#---> Feyre and The IC sending away Nesta to HoW

[pinkwhite]

I see the the aggressive feyres stans/nesta antis found your post about feyres victimhood. She kinda just proved your point. Like feyre is a victim but she isn’t a victim in every situation. You can’t completely separate her from sjms beliefs and how they come up in her work. Also I know she’s defended rhysands actions utm and other times so being mean to others in the name of fighting misogyny is interesting. If your cool with sharing more of your thoughts I was wondering how you think sjms racism appears in feyre vs nesta? 💕

hii anon sorry for responding late, but I think the way SJM writes Feyre in her dynamic with Nesta is where she's this victim or usually in the right of her treatment of Nesta (Talking abt what she did in ACOSF, when she locked Nesta up) We see Rhysand villainize Nesta for letting Feyre go out and hunt, and how he wanted to "roar" at Nesta and Elain because it's their fault for letting her go out in hunt. I feel like in their dynamic Feyre is White Womanhood™, if that is what you mean. We also see her as well using her privilege as High Lady like when she and the IC sent Nesta away to House of Wind.

[itsswritten]

wings

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff

Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

Wings Universe - More from this world.

"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.

You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 

Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 

If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 

"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.

"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.

“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.

Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.

Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.

The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.

 𓇢𓆸

Mor, Feyre and Nesta.

It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.

The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.

A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.

The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.

"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."

“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.

You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.

They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.

"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.

Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.

 𓇢𓆸

Cassian.

Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 

On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.

Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.

"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.

Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.

The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"

You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.

"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.

“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.

Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.

"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.

"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.

Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.

"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.

"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.

You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.

Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.

Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.

 𓇢𓆸

Rhys and Nyx.

“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.

You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.

Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.

Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.

Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.

Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.

You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.

As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.

His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.

"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.

Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 

"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.

"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.

 𓇢𓆸

Azriel.

“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.

You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.

You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.

But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.

As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.

You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.

"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.

Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 

“That’s it my love, that’s it…”

Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.

Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 

"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 

Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.

"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.

"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."

Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.

"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."

Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.

 𓇢𓆸

As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.

"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.

"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."

You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.

"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.

You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"

"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.

Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.

"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.

"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.

"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.

Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.

You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.

"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.

Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”

Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.

They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 

“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.

But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.

No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.

A glow they were forever grateful for.

a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3

Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Snow Bunny | Azriel x Reader

Summary: After the bat boys enjoy their annual snowball fight, in which Azriel wins, he gets the best prize of all, a night alone with his mate.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, p in v penetration, nudity, violent snowball rock assault (rip cassian), and tooth rotting fluff.

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing smut, so go easy on me lol, was just in another feening-over-azriel mood and needed to write, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

It was a cold winter, though all of the winters in Night Court were cold. Compared to Illyrian winters, Azriel supposed that they weren’t too bad. Illyrian winters had everyone shivering and shaking and doing anything for the littlest bit of warmth. Night Court winters usually yielded a bit of snow, maybe a foot or two if the Mother was feeling generous, for the children, or in this case, grown Illyrian males, to play in.

The annual snowball fight began as usual, they built their snow forts, packed them densely, or at least Azriel always did, and went to work making snowballs.

He would admit that using his shadows to make snowballs for him did seem like cheating, but who is he to not use his resources?

Rhys and Cassian went head to head first, predictably, and after hurling snowballs densely packed at each other as hard as they could, their tanned skin was left tinted red and a few bruises. The killer blow was when Cassian hurled a final one at Rhys, and this snowball was packed full of ice in the center.

It knocked the High Lord straight out.

Cassian let out a whoop of victory, but a bit too early, as Azriel then launched a massive snowball with a rock in the center at him, payback, and a guarantee of victory apparently as Cassian then collapsed backward on the snow with a soft groan.

Both Nesta and Feyre came out, not too worried as they were very used to their mates’ shenanigans. Feyre helped drag Rhys into the house, while Nesta fought with Cassian, who was mumbling about how he was “perfectly fine”.

“Really…’m okay, jus’ a few more minutes..”

He mumbled, clearly out of it. Nesta grabbed his legs and began dragging him away.

“You are going inside. I am not letting you die because of a snowball fight of all things.”

Her stern tone rang out, dragging him into the house after Feyre managed to get Rhys inside. Azriel followed soon after.

*********************************************************

You went to the door to drag Azriel back inside but were instead met with the sight of him entering, and you ran smack into his chest. You shuddered slightly at how cold and wet he was. His lips were chapped, crusty, and dry. You pulled your tube of lip gloss out and applied a generous amount on his lips, before leaving a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m assuming you won?”

You asked in an amused tone, glancing over at Cassian and Rhys being dragged away by their mates. Azriel chuckled, the deep sound sending a thrill through your body, before replying with a little smirk.

“Yes, per usual.”

You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Quit being a cocky bastard, and let’s go get you in a hot bath. You’re freezing.”

He gave a little huff of laughter at your quip, before following as his mate dragged him off to their shared bedroom. Your intentions were far from pure, and you wanted much more than a bath, but only if he was willing to provide that. He might be tired.

“Are you sure you want me to take a bath?”

He asked, a knowing glint in his eye as he pushed the door to your shared bedroom closed, locking it painfully slowly, ensuring that the noise would echo through her brain and rattle it.

He began slowly stalking towards you with a predatory, feline grace, his wings flaring behind him in what you could recognize as a symbol of both dominance and desire. Even his shadows seemed eager, slithering up your body as far as he allowed them, their cool touch both soothing your skin and causing goosebumps to rise.

“Maybe a bath isn’t so necessary.”

You said, your voice more feeble than you’d like it to be, swallowing as you sat on the edge of your large bed, with him moving to stand right in front of you and look down at you with nothing short of a lover’s gaze.

“Good. I love our annual snowball fights, but do you know what I love more..?”

He asked in his rich baritone voice, smiling slightly as he pushed you gently back onto the bed, settling over you as he let his hands roam your soft, warm body. His hands went from your thighs, back up to your hair and face, then back to your inner thigh as his leg nudged your knees to open.

As any sensible person would do, you spread your legs for him easily. You'd gotten to a point within the mating bond that submitting to him was as easy as breathing.

“..No, what?”

You asked, your voice wavering slightly as your cheeks flushed, watching him with wide eyes. The arousal in both of your scents could easily be detected. His hand stopped around the waistband of your pants, tugging them off, and the rest of your clothing was soon to go.

Eventually, his large hands began palming your breasts, rubbing your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. He leaned down near your ear, prolonging his answer as long as possible to build your curiosity and the tension before he spoke.

“My mate.”

He answered simply, his hot breath fanning against your ear, before his mouth moved down to latch onto one of your pert nipples, alternating between swirling his tongue around it and sucking. The sheer dominance and possession in his statement made your desire pool as your heavy breathing turned to light mewls and moans, whining to him.

His mouth then switched from your right nipple to your left, continuing his sinful sucking, before separating with a little ‘pop’ as he smirked up at you.

His hand had trailed down to his leathers, unbuttoning his shirt before pulling it off, if only to give you a little taste of the eye candy he truly was beneath his clothes. One hand reached down to your panties, and ran a finger over them, nearly purring in delight.

“Already so wet? I must've put on quite a show tonight.”

He murmured against your chest as one of his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties and tugged them down, before throwing them onto the floor with the rest of your clothes. His fingers slid through your wet folds, before beginning to playfully taunt your clit, rubbing just enough for some pleasure, but never enough for any real friction.

One of his fingers slid over to your slit, gathering all the slick that waited there for him, and he coated his fingers in it before slipping it in, easily going knuckle-deep.

“I’m gonna stretch you out, okay? Gonna get you ready for my cock.”

He said with a small smirk in a soft, almost whispered voice, that had deep currents of lust and desire running not far under it. Soon, one finger turned into two pumping in and out, curling into that delicious spot while you whined because of the stretch. The whines soon turned to moans and begging him for more.

“Az, need more..”

You begged, your hips already starting to buck on instinct and try to grind against his fingers.

“I’ll give you more in due time, darling.”

He replied simply. And then a third finger was slipped in, his thumb still running sinful circles and applying just the right amount of pressure to your clit. In no time you were already slipping so, so close to the edge, and he let you get there, rubbing faster and harder until you fell apart around his fingers with a cry.

His fingers continued working you, prolonging your pleasure as much as possible before slipping out when the high had ended. However, you could hear the sound of his leathers slipping off, and when you opened your hazy eyes, you saw a glimpse of his cock, throbbing, the tip pink and leaking, begging for attention. He stroked himself a few times, hissing at the feeling, before running it through your folds thrice to get it soaked and ready.

“Ready? Take a deep breath for me and relax, darling.”

He whispered softly into your ear, and you could feel his tip prodding at your entrance before slowly inching in. No matter how many times you took him, the sheer size of his dick always managed to surprise you.

The stretch immediately took over your senses, making you whine against him. It was a mixture of pleasure and irritable pain that you didn’t want to admit how much you enjoyed.

After what felt like hours of soft, whispered reassurances and praise of how good you were doing for him, and how warm and tight you were, he had finally bottomed out. You immediately jerked your hips against him, breath leaving you at how delicious it felt.

“Please move, Az. Need you to.”

You said, your breathing already shaky. You weren’t going to last long, and from the way he was already groaning and throbbing in you, he wasn't going to either.

He pressed himself against you, beginning a slow and steady rhythm as he moved against you, groaning lewdly into your ear. His place turned to sloppy, loving thrusts as he just began going with instinct.

“You gonna cum with me, sweet girl? Yeah?”

He asked in a breathless tone, panting for air. The moment you hit your climax, your walls clenching and throbbing around his cock, letting you feel every particular inch and vein as it moved inside of you, he also came, thick ropes of his seed shooting deep into you, both of your moans and groaning making a chorus with the sounds of wet squelching and skin slapping skin as he painted your insides white.

You both just laid there for a moment, content to enjoy the afterglow, and as soon as it came down, Azriel was there for his usual godly aftercare.

“Bath?”

He asked, voice raspy and somewhat gruff from all his noises. You gave a wordless nod, and he picked you up, carrying you over to the bathtub and starting a warm bath, easing both of you into it.

He knew your entire haircare routine to the smallest details, and his shadows, still a bit pouty that he hadn’t let them participate in your session, seemed eager to help as you felt their cool touch against your scalp, then moving on to wash your body with your favorite scent of body wash.

You washed his hair, scrubbing shampoo in, then washed out and followed by conditioner, before the shadows helped you clean him off. A few of them helped ‘clean’ his very sensitive cock, causing Azriel to hiss at the feeling and tell them to stop, which only made you and the shadows giggle.

When you finally got out of the bath, you didn’t bother to put on any clothes, and neither did he. You enjoyed the moments of bare skin-to-skin contact with him.

Curled up in the bed, laying beside him with your arms around him, one of his arms around her waist, and his wings curled protectively around you, you whispered something to him.

“I love you.”

You whispered, voice soft and a bit raspy from earlier. He opened one eye, peeking at your serene face, before whispering back with a smile on his lips.

“I love you, too.”

[thefatesofspring]

The acotar fandom will forever be funny to me because by Tamlin’s very own actions, he is the very definition of that one quote/viral TikTok sound that goes something like “the hero will sacrifice the one he loves for the world but the villain would burn the world down for the one he loves” or however it goes.

Tamlin literally sacrificed Prythian twice for Feyre!! 1st was by sending her home when she was still human the 2nd time was by playing spy with Hybern but also using that opportunity to free Feyre from her bargain to Rhysand & get her back so she’s safe.

Rhysand on the other hand…

• sexually assaulted & exploited Feyre

• violated & embarrassed her mental/private thoughts & then exposed them to Tamlin in front of Lucien

• knowingly let an unknowing Feyre be used as live bait for the attor just to see if it was going to continue to follow them & attack

• Had her steal the book of breathing from Summer Court & nearly died in the process

• let her walk into the weavers cottage without telling her that their was a high possibility she would die in the process to retrieve a ring…a ring that’s meant to prove how much she loves & deserves Rhysand even though she had already done the above by this point & didn’t need to do anything more to prove her love for Rhysand

• kept the dangers of her pregnancy away from her

• knew that Ianthe wasn’t who Tamlin or Feyre believed her to be & didn’t warn either of them about her proposal to him for an heir & power, which ultimately lead to them being blindsided by Ianthe’s betrayal.

• twisted the piece of bone in her infected arm to the point where she nearly blacked out from the pain

• complained about 500 gold marks Nesta spent & read the bill which in turn embarrassed Feyre in front of everyone at breakfast, even though 500 gold marks is nothing to him, he has openly admitted that the IC drink & gamble all the time & worse etc

I could go on & on but it’s just funny because the fandom particularly go crazy over that audio & the whole time it doesn’t even apply to Rhysand but to Tamlin but because Tamlin is blonde and doesn’t handle his temper/emotions in the best way, people will jumps through saturns rings to “explain” why that’s Rhysand & not Tamlin even though canon text states otherwise😩😂

Anyway…thank you for coming to my TedTalk

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Can you please do an azriel or fenrys x reader of him taking care of her after a drunkenness?

Silly

Azriel didn’t enjoy alcohol. He never understood the appeal and quite frankly the smell alone for years hunted him. Reminding him of his drunken father. The pain. The torture. The male he never wanted to turn to. So he kept himself away from it. Not that he was afraid of getting addicted more from the pain it inflicted. Scarcely enjoying a glass of bourbon with his brothers. Or downing a shot or two when drunken Mor stumbled to him at Rita’s.

“I wonder when we should intervene”, Rhys chuckled eyes fixed on his mate practically crawling towards the stage at Rita’s. “I tried, look where it got me”, Cass grunted, lifting his iced glass away from his cracked eyebrow. He had been pinning after Nesta for so long. It was painful to watch if Azriel was honest. But his brother was determined. “They haven’t let loose in a while. Let them be”, the spymaster muttered, his shadows swirling at your feet as you tried to climb the steps.

You two weren’t exactly together yet Azriel couldn’t help the feeling that ran through him when his mind drifted to you. The thought made him frown slightly. Maybe he was a hypocrite for judging Cassian’s situation when his wasn’t that much different. It was worse. Both Cassian and Rhys saw you as their sister. The same feeling Azriel should have shared but it had always been different. There was always more.

“Show me your ass, witch”, Cassian shouted, making Nesta glare, before she reached for her shoe. Flinging it across the room screaming, “Eat shit!”. All the girls giggled around her and even Cassian laughed. “That’s my wife’s move”, Rhys grunted, “Need to be more inventive”. But his voice didn’t reach her as Feyre ushered the musician off the stage, before motioning for Mor to play something. The drunken voices that joined suit made all three of the males laugh but Cassian was the only one who joined in.

All Azriel could focus on, however, was your flushed cheeks as you giggled bracing yourself onto the piano. Your hair was messy, braids half loose but that’s what you got from dancing with Cassian. A pang shot through Azriel, it should have been him. He should have been the one spinning you around. So lost in his thoughts he didn’t feel the tug of his shadows until he heard a thud and gasps. Slipped his shadows clawed at his legs as Azriel pushed up from the booth. Ready to assess the damage.

“Move aside”, he ushered the drunken girls, ready to see anyone but you there. His heart leaped as he knelt. “Yn”, he called gently. You sat so still with your hair over your face that he couldn’t understand the damage. Until a laugh bubbled through your lips as you threw your head back. His palm rested on your back as you tilted backward, nearly sending yourself toppling over.

“Okay”, Azriel sighed, “Come on, before you reck this place”, “Did you see?”, you wheezed, clasping your hand over his, “My heel…”, your voice died down as another wave of laughter erupted from your mouth. Azriel just shook his head, “You could have cracked your skull, silly”, steadying you onto your feet, even if he doubted that you could even stand, he turned towards his brother. A look was enough to let them know that he was leaving and taking you with him.

“You’re blowing it”, you muttered. Air caught in Azriel’s chest, “Sorry, what?”, surely this was not the time for him to start thinking of things that you probably didn’t even mean. “Blowing the fun”, you blinked at him. “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes, love”, he mused, wrapping an arm around your middle as he walked you out of the Rita’s.

“Azriel”, you whined, stopping in your tracks. He simply hummed. “My feet”, you pointed to your heels. “Did you hurt your ankle?”, a panic washed over him as he knelt once more, making you giggle as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “Dang did you go down fast, it was a blur”, you laughed. “Pull yourself together, woman, did you hurt yourself?”, he demanded, running his fingers over your ankles looking for visible bruises.

“Nope”, you popped the p, “Killer heels give you killer foot pain”, you shrugged, watching his shoulders sag before he stood back up. “Carry me back home?”, you asked him trying to appear innocent. “You will be the death of me”, he grunted but wrapped his arks around you anyway. “No”, you shook your head, “But Nesta might be”. Azriel chuckled, “I think Cassian is in more danger in that department”. You hummed, cuddling deeper into him when the night air brushed against your skin. “Can I ask you something?”, you muttered, looking up at him from his shoulder. “Sure”, Azriel mused, stepping through the narrow streets. “If I wasn’t drunk would you kiss me?”, your words made Azriel nearly lose his footing. “Where is this coming from?”, he looked down at you, eyelids drooping slowly. “Cause, I wanted to kiss you all night long”, you muttered against him making Azriel’s heart flutter. “Can you ask me that tomorrow?”, he muttered, feeling you nod against his shoulder. “But can you remind me of it?”, you added quickly. “How would I do that?”, Azriel slowly ran his hand down your back. “By kissing me yourself, silly”, you giggled, “I give you permission to do that”.

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

ive realized that nesta antis seem to fundamentally misunderstand how and why the intervention is abusive. no one is arguing that the ic is initially obligated to help - or at least, thats not what the argument is.

the ic is not responsible for nesta - feyre is not obligated to help nesta; that portion i absolutely agree with. the problem was - and always has been - that the ic personally put themselves in charge of nesta. they don't suggest - they demand. they couldve have literally just cut nesta off - and that would have been their right.

nesta is forced to go to the house of wind. she cannot leave by herself unless she has a chaperone. she cannot decide what she eats, what she wears, and who can visit her. she is forced to work in the library, she is forced to train in a foreign land. her clothes were already packed delivered to the house of wind before she attended the meeting -- before she even formally gave a response. her house WAS TORN DOWN BY THE TIME THE MEETING HAD EVEN STARTED. they had already made the decision before she could make it for herself. they personally put themselves in charge of her well being. feyre told nesta that if she had to be TIED UP AND FORCIBLY TAKEN to the house of wind - she would. that is not a choice. they then repeadedly ask HER TO DO COURT DUTIES AND INTENTIONALLY USE elain to force nesta into action. AND THEY DONT PAY HER FOR THIS. SHE STILL HAS TO GO RIGHT BACK TO THE HOW.

they literally deemed her too mentally ill function in society, to live by herself -- but sure lets send on her these missions (and she is then sexually assaulted TWICEEE).

yall - thats not legal by even our standards. in many ways its written much worse than tamlin's scene in maf bc the story justifies itself.

you cant argue that the ic is not responsible for nesta when THEY DECIDED to intervene. at that point, nesta IS their responsibility. she literally has to depend on them to eat, sleep, live, and work. they take measures to make her completely dependent on them. she has to sleep in the house of wind with cassian, even though she explained that she wanted nothing to do with him.

like if you dont like nesta - good on you. but this idea that we should always rely on this "we know what they meant" is so annoying bc nesta literally almost DIES bc cassian literally ignored and watched nesta waste away JUST LIKE TAMLIN DID. no one noticed that she was terrified of the sound of wood crackling - she just sat there and endured it. and everyone called her a bitch about it. and the fact that maf uses these same scenario to call out tamlin but not cassian reiterates the problem with this series. these topic are nothing outside of how you can continually justify your favs. it doesnt take much to see how cassian and tamlin literally do the same things , yet ive not seen one meta from that side earnestly discussing it bc "nesta is difficult" very nasty behavior is you ask me.

[fairydustblossom]

Hello! Can I request something with pre relationship fluff with Azriel? Maybe something where everyone else can see the attraction between them but they’re clueless or in denial?

Thanks! ❤️

I’m writing this as a blurb because I just had so many random ideas LOL. I hope this is okay! 

Okay Azriel would be smitten by you, and you by him, but like the entire IC could just see it because of the special treatment you got in every little thing and Azriel literally didn’t treat anyone else like this. Princess treatment fr without even officially being his princess. 

He would be so caring and kind to you, a complete gentlebat, holding doors open, pulling your chair out for you, will offer to carry whatever you are carrying for you, etc…

He would basically be your personal escort while visiting other courts, going out, or just while strolling through Velaris. He would always be beside you but he would purposefully slow his stride to fall back a bit, making sure he could look at all of your surroundings, sending glares to anyone who seemed like a threat. Even if the threat is literally just the butcher at the local meat market holding a knife that was casually pointed at you in conversation. Azriel gave the man a death stare behind you and you were left wondering why the conversation ended so abruptly…

It got to the point where even Rhys felt abandoned by his Spymaster. Azriel had always prioritized guarding his High Lord, his brother, but now he was giving all of his attention to you. (He would act mildly offended but didn’t really care he just thought it was funny because Azriel used to always be so attentive. And also Rhys adores you so it’s fine.)

Now, everyone in the IC, in fact, everyone in Velaris, knows that Azriel does not like to be touched. Like it takes a lot for him to be comfortable with someone touching him and he’ll tolerate it but you won’t ever see him going out of his way to touch someone unless absolutely necessary. However, when it comes to you, he finds any excuse to touch you or have you touch him. It’s like he wants to recover all the physical touch he’s avoided his whole life through you. He would never openly admit this, no, not until later on but something in him begs to feel your skin.

For example, when he puts his leathers on he’ll make some random ass excuse to get you to put your hands on him. “I think I’ve got all my buckles in place, could you double check for me?”. When Cass heard him say this he was about to burst laughing, because for mothers sake, Azriel had been buckling and unbuckling his leathers for centuries and had never asked anyone to double check, it was literally muscle memory at this point. Of course, Az sent Cass a death glare that dared him to say something so Cass held in his laugh, raised his hands and walked away. But he definitely told Nesta, and then Nesta told Feyre, and of course, Feyre told Rhys. Rhys told Mor, and soon everyone was overly aware of the excuses you guys made just to touch each other. When Azriel asked you to double check his leathers, you thought it was a great idea and asked him to do the same for you.

Azriel took this job very seriously, his gloved hands would roam your body, checking each and every pocket, lace, buckle, button. He would make sure everything was perfectly in place. He never groped and never overstepped his boundaries, just very diligently ran his hands through every part of your body. It would be hard to keep your cheeks from blushing and your belly from fluttering, it was also hard to cover up how much it turned you on to have him look after you. And oh gods, when he got to the holsters around your thigh….. Let’s just say thank the mother that Azriel was so concentrated in his task that he didn;t realize how visibly flustered you were. But everyone else definitely noticed.

It basically became a routine for you both before any mission to touch every inch of each other's body. So much so that Azriel now just couldn’t let you go on mission without doing an “inspection”, as he liked to call it, and he wouldn't leave on any until you checked him. You just really really cared about each other's gear being properly set., definitely wasn’t just an excuse to feel each other up. 

The whole IC truly found it hilarious and would talk about it behind y’alls back. It was just so obvious to everyone how infatuated you were with each other, so obvious to everyone except the two of you.

Azriel also kind of assigned himself your personal flyer. One time you asked Cass to fly you over to the house of wind and Azriel’s heart just about broke. You didn’t ask him because he was busy doing some work and Cass was just lounging around but he took it sooo personally. Of course he never told you that, instead he took it out on Cass by not speaking to him for a day LOL. From that day on he made sure to always ask you if you need a lift before waiting for you to ask. 

He was also playful around you, one might even say goofy, a rare sight for anyone that had known Azriel. If you were ever spaced out he would nudge you a bit with his wing, making you stumble a bit. You would send him a glare and he would have a smirk on his face. 

Or if you were super concentrated on a book or something and he wanted your attention he would flap his wings, sending a gust of wind to mess up the pages. You would huff in annoyance, shut the book, and look at him, only to find him reading his own book acting like he didn’t just do that. 

But you would also get him back, with the help of his shadows of course. Like when you were feeling playful, you would maybe take one of daggers or something and then you would run off and hide, a few of his shadows helping you find the darkest hiding spot and never snitching on you. That was another thing no one else had seen, his shadows fully listening to anyone other than him ?? Like hello ??? How did Azriel not realize what that meant ?? But he was just so blissfully comfortable around you and everything seemed so normal, that he never really gave it a second thought. He always knew the only reason he was a Shadowsinger was because the shadows allowed it so he just kind of accepted it. 

Most of all though, the IC was grateful for the friendship (soon to be more in their opinion) that you and Azriel had nurtured. They would abstain from teasing him because you were just so good for Azriel. It became a regular occurrence to find Azriel napping by you, or the both of you snoozing on the couch, your head or feet on his lap or maybe even his on yours, when Mor saw him sleeping on you that one time she audibly gasped. She was so giddy with excitement that she ran to tell the others. They all came one by one, so as to not spook the shadows, to take a peek and all their hearts melted a little more. 

He felt so relaxed around you that he just dozed off quite easily now. And they all saw the gradual disappearance of the bags under his eyes. Everyone knew Azriel barely slept but now he seemed to fall asleep so easily whenever he was near you. He just felt safe. You had always been a napper and he had finally caught on to the art of napping.

Another thing everyone started noticing was that Azriel was cooking a whole lot more than usual. He was always a good cook, Rhys and Cass would recall every now and then how they probably would have lived off beans and oatmeal during their younger years if it hadn’t been for Azriel’s cooking. His mom had always cooked him comforting meals, one of the few comforts she could afford her son given the environment he grew up in, so Azriel had always seen cooking as a way of showing someone he cared.

So even though Azriel would cook for everyone from time to time, he started doing it more frequently and everyone could see it was all for you. He would make enough food for everyone in the IC but in their opinion, it wasn’t a coincidence that he always asked you what you were craving, never asked them, always cooked your favorite meals, and always, always, prepared your plate first. 

He would always serve your plate the way you liked it, and would have you wait at the table while he brought it for you. He never served himself first, not even the High Lord or the High Lady. They found it incredibly amusing how he treated you like royalty and basically ignored them when you were around. (Not that they expected that treatment from him, but it was certainly funny to see Azriel go from overly observant of everything and everyone to basically having tunnel vision for you.)

And it wasn’t just big meals it was like anytime he was cooking for himself he would make you something too, a snack, a dessert, a juice, a tea literally he just started including you.

Now, he wasn’t the only one to do these sweet things for you, you definitely had your own ways of cluelessly showing your devotion for him. Like you would get him oils, and soaps, and salts to help him relax. “Okay AZ, this one’s for sleep, this one’s for sore muscles, this one’s to help you concentrate…” and you would make sure to jot down everything so he wouldn’t get them mixed up and could get the best use out of them. One time it even prompted Cass to ask Nesta where his smellies were after you had been out in the town with her and had picked up all the goodies… Now that caused a whole scene, meanwhile you and Az were in your own little world smelling all the tiny bottles.

You would also polish all his weapons whenever you had some down time. Or you would read a book and take little notes along the margins and then you would give it to him, sharing all the thoughts you wrote down in those pages. He would then write his own notes and give it back to you, because you were each other's confidants, best friends, crushes (still not time to admit that), and very obviously (to everyone excluding the both of you), mates. 

I could literally keep going LOL but I’ll stop now. Basically Azriel is just protective and caring and loving towards you and the rest of the IC notices everything he does for you and the effect you’ve had on him and they are patiently waiting for y’all to finally kiSS. Feyre and Cass have a bet going on when the bond will snap and who will feel it first.

[acourtofthought]

Tamlin was the first one to try to stop the King of Hybern during the cauldron scene. Does that undermine what Lucien did?  Lucien thought Elain was in danger in the Night Court but he told Tamlin to “get her back” instead of trying to save Elain himself. Yet Sarah notes that this behavior is that of “a mate already going wild to defend what was his.” Lucien only left the Spring Court when Feyre was already leaving and he had to leave anyways for his safety. Does that undermine his actions? Mor was the first to offer to go search for Vassa. Does that undermine what Lucien did? Unlike Cassian, Azriel didn’t offer to go after the Valkyries at all when they were taken to the blood rite, even though this happens after the bonus chapter. He only said that they needed to get Eris. Does this mean he doesn't care?

No because Tamlin's actions were focused on the king while Lucien's were focused on Elain.

Even as recent as SF we know Tamlin is in love with Feyre therefore it's logical to assume that anything he does is about her. Protecting her, helping her, etc. Tamlin trying to stop the King doesn't have anything to do with Elain specifically so much as Tamlin trying to stop the Kings madness overall because this wasn't what he agreed to (something verified when he says "this is not part of our deal"). A deal which was made in order to break Feyre's bargain with Rhys and get her back.

But Lucien? He tried to step towards Elain before she was put in. Someone he broke free of the kings shackles for, someone who was then revealed as his mate. Lucien paid no attention to Nesta as she was put into the Cauldron, he was more interested in picking up Elain and holding her in his arms so she didn't have more of the Cauldron dumped onto her.

How can anything Lucien did for Elain be undermined when he had never even met her? They were complete strangers yet his instinct wasn't to stop the King but go to her.

This is Rhys after his bond snapped, after suspecting he had a bond with Feyre for months:

No, I don't think Lucien's actions, the "get her back" moment, means his bond with Elain should undermined. He was completely blindsided by the snapping of his bond. If Rhys nearly stole Feyre away but only managed to avoid it by winnowing then I think Lucien being out of his head and having no idea what he was doing or saying can be forgiven. How often do we see Lucien panting and snarling? He's usually quite controlled so it's clear he was a bit out of his mind. Also.... how exactly would Lucien be able to get her back from a High Lord in that moment? "Lucien should have gotten her back himself!". Except Rhys sent Mor in to Spring to retrieve Feyre, right? He didn't even go get his own mate so it's not really as simple as everyone claims.

No, Lucien leaving with Feyre after Spring's downfall doesn't undermine his own actions because Lucien wanted to get Elain back long before that:

End of ACOMAF:

Start of ACOWAR:

People need to remember Lucien is not yet a HL and definitely did not have the power to go against the most powerful HL of Prythian history at the beginning of ACOWAR.

Lucien isn't stupid. Getting himself killed trying to get Elain isn't going to help Elain therefore it was necessary for him to form a plan, not just storm the gates. He knew Feyre was playing him but he knew he had to play the game.

However he was ready to get Elain long before the Spring Court fell, it was just Feyre was finally done playing the game at that point which meant he could then demand his answers.

If another male had been the first to suggest going after Vassa than it might undermine Lucien's actions a bit more but girl power is a theme in Sarah's novels, just as much as the romance. However we also need to remember Lucien is not an Inner Circle member. He doesn't get to order the IC around and tell them how they should be operating, what soldiers they should be sending out, that he should be the one to handle the information accordingly. He rightly gave them time to work through the information as it was presented to the NC since he was only a guest, then spoke up. But either way, he was the only male who fought for her vision.

He was also clearly stunned by everything that had just been revealed:

What happens to Elain also affects Lucien and I think people forget that. Just like her depression caused him actual devestation. I think people need to give the guy a few moments to process the information since she's literally the other half of his soul, whether they accept the bond or not.

Once again, people forget a mated male struggles to react rationally.

In SF, Az was not a mated male. Even if he has a bond with Gwyn he's got no clue, just like Rowan didn't seem affected by Aelin's multiple near death experiences at first. Because of this Az was able to logic that entering the Rite meant her death. I don't think Az would have cared about his own safety but when the laws clearly state she would die too, that it would guarantee her death and he at this point in time was level headed enough to remember that in the way a newly mated male could not, I think it makes sense why he wasn't overcome by emotion to the point it would risk her life.

But Az showing zero concern for Elain when Elain was put into the Cauldron? Az being second to Cassian in offering Elain a dagger? Az not believing in Elain's ability to handle the Trove? Az not feeling Elain's vision was worth pursuing? Az putting Elain's life at risk for both Feyre and Briar simply because he wanted to be the hero who could do it all? Az avoiding Elain at her lowest and only looking into her riddles after Feyre asked it of him? Az looking at Mor with lust while Elain sat in the room with them? Az never giving her credit for her bravery during the war? These things do undermine the supposed feelings he has for her.

[etchedjade]

My comfort headcanon is that, instead of going to the house of wind, Nesta decided to run to the human lands instead in a petty act against the IC, as if saying she preferred a sure death than live with Cassian. And you know what court is closest to the human boarders?

The Spring Court.

Nesta going there and kinda forcing Tamlin into taking her in, both turning into reluctant housemates that clash a lot, but Nesta isn't afraid of his beast form and her mean tongue doesn't bother Tamlin. Eventually they become friends because they bond over the ic's hypocrisy and how they've been treated over glasses of wine. They both get their healing arcs together.

She gets to see Eris sometimes, outside the IC machinations, and while they don't like each other yet, she gets to know him a bit better.

Until the IC comes looking for her (because of course Rhysand had Azriel track her down to drag her back) Tamlin helps her escape and guess who ends up finding her this time?

Eris, who brings her to his court as a refugee, and she has to navigate around the complicated family dynamic and the twisted court where no one can be trusted. But much like Feyre's canon story, what seemed like a terrifying and evil court turns out to be way more than it meets the eye. The Vanserra are not what people think, none of them. And slowly, Nesta finds her place within them

First of all, I love this. I believe she would heal better away from the IC and outside of the NC (though the Valks helped a lot). I do think Nes having a hand in taking down Beron and rebuilding Autumn with someone who gets her—Eris—would be very cool and fitting.

Second of all, I think I partially read a fic that went something like this. I didn’t get to the part where Nes got together with anyone but Nes and Tam’s bond was really sweet. I think the endgame for the fic was Az—which I love bc Nesriel is on par with Neris for me.

It’s called “A House of Flame and Flower” by Mellowenglishgal on AO3!

Third of all, I was not expecting this but I love that you wanted to share your Nesta-related thoughts and headcannons with me!

If anyone wants to send their Nesta/Valk/or Autumn Court theories and headcannons with me, please feel free to send it in asks! I’d love to read them!

(I’m actually working through 3 theories rn and hope to post those with evidence in the next month or so)

[litnerdwrites]

Azriel in Silver Flames

I've basically hated the IC since... Acowar, honestly. But the more I think about it, the more conflicted I am about Azriel. I liked him in every book, but in retrospect, I'm not so sure anymore. This is mostly regarding his treatment of Nesta, since he honestly didn't do much before hand the start of Silver Flames, and he didn't do too much during it either.

I understand why Azriel would stay away from Nesta from the end of ACOWAR to the start of Silver Flames. He's observant, and I imagine he's figured out that Nesta doesn't want to spend time with the IC. Moreover, he may also see it as being in Feyre's jurisdiction, and wanting to stay out of it out of respect for her privacy and what not. It's his behaviour through out silver flames that has me conflicted.

Azriel was raised in confinement with limited interactions with other people. He saw his mother once a week, for limited time and suffered physical and verbal abuse, and torture during that time. He had no control over his schedule, food, social interactions, nothing. Yet, despite that, he allowed Nesta to be isolated and kept on a strict schedule and diet that she has no say in, and we never see any signs of him arguing against it. Especially since he knows being locked up somewhere against your will, where you can't leave, often made to do things you don't want, is what most of the IC's trauma roots from (Amren in the Prison, Rhys UTM, Feyre UTM, Mor in the CON, Azriel in his father's dungeon, etc). Why the, seemingly, most sensible person allowed this is beyond me.

Azriel, through out the book, never protests against this treatment either. He treats Nesta decently, though that is the absolute minimum. She should've been treated like that, regardless, of where she was or what she was doing.

He despises Illyria, knows the dangers out there, from both males and whatever's in those forests, yet he doesn't protest against Nesta going. We've seen that there are days where she wanders around on her own (like when she went to Emerie's), without protection. What would happen if she jumped off a cliff or a steep bluff? Or if she went into the forests? What about if some of the males attacked her? It's not like she was constantly supervised. trusting her witch status will keep them away is too risky, since some might not care. Azriel knows the dangers of Illyria, and he let her be taken there. He saw how Illyria hurt his mother, and how she was treated, first hand.

He doesn't do anything even after suspecting that Cassian pushed her down the stairs, or witnessing her being verbally abused by Cassian, and Rhys when he cares to show up. He doesn't defend her, or shut his brothers down, he just lets it happen, seemingly unbothered. Idk about you, but if I was at dinner, and my brother said to his girlfriend, the things that Cassian says to Nesta, I'd drag him out the front door by the hair myself.

Azriel also had a bag packed for Nesta and Cassian's hike from hell, waiting for Cassian to come get it. He let Cassian take Nesta somewhere else against her will. He, presumably, knew about the plan to take her on that hike, helped prepare for it, and just let it happen without a care. He knew where they were taking her, and what they were going to make her do, and he let it happen.

Then there's the issue regarding the Trove. Azriel pushes for Nesta's right to know about what her powers can do, yet he doesn't have any issue pushing her into life threatening situation to keep Elain from it? He says that Elain shouldn't be exposed to whatever darkness the trove and cauldron possess, but that alone implies that Nesta should be exposed to it, and that's despite her mental condition at the time.

While I don't think Azriel's status as a spymaster means he should know things like Nesta's fear of fire, and her suicidal ideation, but it does mean that there's a very good chance that he does (and yet he still sends her on that hike). Knowing this, Azriel implies that Nesta should go on these life threatening missions, where she could be killed, or commit suicide, or be taken.

Azriel is shown to stand up to/argue with Rhysand in the bonus chapters. He does so for himself and arguably Elain. Why doesn't he do it for Nesta too?

It's all of these little things that leave a bitter taste in my mouth regarding Azriel.

Would he have tried to beg/force Nesta to go instead of Elain had she refused, or if he would've stood up for Nesta if Cassian had become physically violent with her. If she refused to go on that hike, would he have fought for her right to chose like he did before? If Rhys tried to kill her, would he stand up to him for her? If Elain is mistreated in her book, would he stand up for her? If so, why not Nesta too? How can he call himself her friend if he doesn't at least try to talk about how wrong it is, assuming he even realises it's wrong to start with.

We haven't gotten much of his pov yet, and he doesn't really say much, but from what I have seen, I'm concerned. Azriel may not be actively trying to hurt Nesta, but it feels like he enables his brothers and his court too much.

Didn't Tamlin dod the same, along with his court, who watched Feyre whither away, and did nothing. Even if they didn't see what was happening in her head, they saw her wasting away from lack of sleep or food. Isn't Azriel doing the same to Nesta by letting her be treated that way? Reaming neutral still makes him part of the problem, doesn't it?

Am I the only one who gets this bad taste in my mouth when I think about this?

[lovemyromance]

Im curious about your take on how azriel is “overprotective”

I honestly don't understand how we got to this point where a male love interest being protective is a bad thing. Overprotective, sure. But I don't think any of the bat boys are overprotective.

There are really two parts to to understanding this argument:

Azriel's protectiveness

Elain's personality/character itself

Let's begin:

Azriel's protectiveness

Homeboy is protective, no one can deny this. But he is protective of them all. He attacked Eris to defend Mor's honor, he is Mr. "Careful how you speak of my High Lady", he handles even Nesta with the utmost care and respect. If there is danger, I'd sooner believe he'd throw himself into it rather than it get close to any of his pretty friends' heads.

But there is a difference between him, and let's say, Tamlin for example. Tamlin literally locks up Feyre in her room, doesn't let her train her own powers, keeps her far away from courtly affairs.

And I know what you are going to say - "Oh, but Azriel stopped Elain from scrying for the troves" - um yeah, no shit.

The Cauldron literally kidnapped Elain? You think he's going to let that dangerous thing in her presence again? He snarls at Eris everytime he shows his face, you think he's going to let that evil crockpot anywhere near her?

It's not like he said "Elain can't train." or "Elain should be locked up in a tower". All he said was, "Elain should not be exposed to that darkness". Which - brings me to my second point.

2. Elain's entire character

Elain is not a warrior. She does not want to be violent. She has no desire to train like her sisters, but she does want to be helpful. There are ways to be helpful without physically going into the Bog or Prison or fighting on the frontlines of battle.

But again, she is untrained. Even if she does want to be helpful, nobody is willing to send her into a situation that might turn violent without any training. They are not willing to risk losing her, because of what happened last time.

The IC is even more protective of Elain as a whole because of who she is. It is not a stretch that Azriel, someone who cares dearly for her, is also protective of her.

And again, let's not forget that all of the bat boys are protective over their women. If we keep reading past when Azriel says, "Elain should not be exposed to the darkness of the troves", you will see Cassian protest and ask "and Nesta should?"

Even Cassian is reluctant to let Nesta be exposed to that darkness. The difference is in Nesta & Elain's core personalities, more so than the protectiveness of Azriel and Cassian. Elain will pick up a dagger as the last resort only to defend someone else/herself, but Nesta? Nesta will charge at you with her sword, probably even if you look at her wrong.

That's the difference. It's not a question about protectiveness, it's about currently, what is Elain capable of.

Azriel is protective of Elain, as he should be. In case you forgot, he was the one who saved her from Hybern's camp. His wings were shredded, he was swaying on his feet, he was warned he would die, but he still went after her. Of course he would be afraid to let that Cauldron anywhere near Elain after that.

And by the way, that is the only instance the anti-s are using to call him "overprotective" and "he stifles her, doesn't let her do anything".

Azriel may not be shoving her off a cliff to fly (sorry Feyre lol), but he is still giving Elain the tools she needs to grow. Azriel is the one who figures out she is a Seer, freeing her from her murky realm and depression. Azriel saw her, understood her, when everyone else including her own sisters and mate saw her as crazy. Azriel gives her his own dagger (the one he NEVER let anyone else touch), to defend herself. Azriel sits with her in the garden, allows her to feel peace and calm.

I think SJMs past male love interests have created a kind of blueprint in the mind of antis, so much so that they are unable to comprehend a different kind of relationship, a different kind of love. Just because Rhys sends Feyre into the Weaver cottage with a "good luck lol" and Rowan punched Aelin in the face, doesn't mean all her MMC have to have the same brutish approach. Have they ever considered that love can be shown in different ways?

Even in HOFAS, Hunt cautions Bryce and voices several times how they should just give up in their plans against the Asteri. Is he being overprotective? Is he stifling Bryce? No. He is simply trying to keep the person he cares about alive and safe. Because he loves her.

Love can be spending time with the one you care for, in small quiet moments in the background, in the garden. Love can be soft embraces under the cover of the darkness, where only the Mother may witness them.

Like, I thought it was obvious.

[kayla-2]

i dont get why feyre demolished her sisters apartment (+with all the other people there) and made her train, lock her up basically against her will with no escape except stairs which she could physically not do. Feyre had this massive ass breakdown when tamlin did the same to her. so why is she doing it to her sister. yes nesta had drinking problems and yes she was wasting money but don't act like feyre did anything to earn that money. they all live in velaris where nothing wrong goes on while other people in other parts of the court suffer and pay taxes because they arent seen as "dreamers" or wtv bs that is. personally i feel like nesta and feyre could have such a good relationship if rhys didnt keep coming in the middle of it. Also nesta's drinking problem was a problem but when the whole ic was drunk and im talking about mor when it says she's always drunk at rita's etc. so thats ok but when nesta does it, it's not?

i think each character could have had such a great story but sjm ruined it by going back on her own words. if acotar feyre saw acowar feyre she would murder herself. she became the thing she didnt want to be. its not even like any of the ic respect feyre. they hid the fact that she could die. thats so out of order because its feyre's body and she has the right to know. yes nesta told her out of her own spite but at least someone told her. and dont even get me started on acosf cassian because wtf was he even on.

sorry this was kind of me ranting. i would love to hear ur opinions on what i said and just ur thoughts in general (this isn't me sending hate btw) (it depends on my mood sometimes im anti ic sometimes im pro i think it depends on what specific media i see that day portraying those characters)

I don’t even think feyre should’ve helped n.esta, so I don’t know how to respond.

Feyre gave her an ultimatum, and she agreed to go to the house of wind. She wasn’t forced. Tamlin didn’t even speak to Feyre and abused her multiple times. It’s very irresponsible to compare the 2 situations as no one in the inner circle messed with N.esta like she asked until a year later and gave her unlimited money and her sisters tried to reach out and was pushed away. I know the fandom mysteriously forget n.etsas actions to vilify Feyre and the inner circle but I don’t.

Feyre wanted her train to help the powers that were tormenting her. I wish n.esta fans would actually understand her because you wouldn’t be upset about her training since lack of control is what was causing her pain. She ends up wanting to be trained and invited others because she didn’t want to feel weak anymore. Which she explicitly said like wtf?!?

She was drinking to escape and not dealing with her problems that different from causally drinking. If she had a job or money they wouldnt be able to do anything but Feyre has the right to say I’m not “funding anything that destroys you.” Which if you are a fan, why would you be upset??

Personally, Feyre did nothing wrong and n.esta would’ve died in that apartment if she didn’t do anything. Which she should not have. Especially since it’s bringing unnecessary hate to her. She’s not n.estas mom and don’t owe her anything. P.S it was not even n.estas apartment, she paid absolutely nothing and didn’t work. Why did feysand destroy their apartment they pay for?. They were already rebuilding old or destroyed buildings

[hrizantemy]

Feyre said that Lucien gave her “almost the same speech” that Ianthe did about “tamlin is a high lord. You will be his wife. There are traditions and expectations you must uphold. We must uphold” and feyre also tells him “you sound a great deal like her/Ianthe” when he tells her she shouldn’t ask for “free rein” to walk 3 miles outside and test her powers because what tamlin orders they obey and feyre falling in line is for the “stability” and appearance of the court.

These sentiments are the same ones Ianthe was telling feyre. She doesn’t even know who Ianthe is then and she’s only commenting that Lucian and Ianthe are telling her the same thing.

like come on, why are you so delusionaly hateful about these books, overanalyzing nesta to explain away her awful behavior and find fault everywhere in the ic by twisting every little things and then deny what’s blatant?

This is straightforward. Both Ianthe and lucian on page tell feyre when she expresses that she feels stifled by the restrictions and control tamlin is putting on her that she should go along with it and that it sends a message that will help the court heal after amarantha. It’s not complicated, Ianthe and Lucien don’t have to be the same people to be telling feyre the same thing- they both had an incentive to get feyre to suck ip her pain and fall in line with tamlin’s rules to keep the “peace” and “stability” as they say.

Like can you read or critically think? Or are you just so hateful about these characters that you make up issues?

But I dont know what I expected from a rape apologist like you

It seems my post about what Feyre said to Lucien struck a nerve for you. First and foremost, I have never excused rape, so I’m not sure where you’re getting that from.

Second, every analysis I’ve made regarding Nesta doesn’t excuse her actions. It debunks false claims like her enabling Elain, being ableist, or that she should have been parentified. My criticisms of the characters surrounding her stem from the belief that the punishments don’t fit the crimes in many cases. It’s one thing to hold people accountable, but it’s another to use trauma or struggles as ammunition against them.

Third, people are entitled to their own opinions on matters like this. Just because Feyre didn’t fully grasp what was going on with Lucien at the time doesn’t mean her words didn’t affect him. Ianthe had been harassing him, so imagine how he might have felt hearing those comparisons. Look at it like the situation where Amren compared Feyre to Tamlin when she wanted to protect her sisters. Feyre did what she thought was right at the time, just as Lucien did. That doesn’t make his actions right, but it also doesn’t excuse the impact her words may have had.

Fourth, I haven’t denied anything, so I’m unsure what you’re referring to there. If you believe I’ve misunderstood something, feel free to point it out, but baseless accusations don’t further the discussion.

Fifth, I’m not being delusional or hateful. I dislike certain characters and the author, and I’m entitled to those opinions. Plenty of people read books, enjoy analyzing characters and themes, and form critical opinions. That’s part of engaging with literature.

And finally, if you don’t like what I have to say, you can always block me. It’s simple. Engaging with someone’s posts doesn’t mean you have to agree, but personal attacks and wild accusations just diminish any real dialogue.

[theladyofdeath]

Better or Worse {11...Simplified?}

For everyone who can't see the original post! Here is chapter 11 of Better or Worse...

…………..

Cassian

…………..

I hate late flights but it was all Nesta and I could book last minute. I’m already tired, due to lack of sleep, now that I’m back on the couch. After getting cockblocked by Eris last week, and seeing that intimacy isn’t as important to my wife as it apparently is to me, I decided that sleeping on the couch would be best.

She hasn’t seemed to mind.

Not once has she asked me to come back to bed. Although, she has stayed true to her word and has been working nonstop since we decided we’d be going on vacation. I haven’t been ignoring her completely. When we’re in the same room, we’ve indulged in that same small talk that we indulged in weeks ago. Then, things started to change and get better.

Now I don’t know what to think. I’m not sure where we are now.

I debated on calling our little getaway off, but being on the beach right now sounds good, therapeutic, so here we are. Even though there’s a wall back between us, we’re taking Gwyn’s advice and going to paradise for a few days. 

Once we make it past security and to our gate, Nesta’s already pulling out her laptop. I mumble that I’m going to find coffee and leave her there to work. I feel a little better, a little less grumpy, once I get caffeine in me. I even feel nice enough to bring Nesta a latte. 

The flight is three hours long, and I sleep for most of it. Surprisingly, the plane seat is just as comfortable as the couch.

Maybe we should get a new couch. 

I only wake up when we land, as the plane jolts once it makes contact with the tarmac. Nesta’s laptop is put away, although I think it’s because they ask you to when landing, not because she chose to. Either way, she gives me a little smile and nods out the window. “We made it.”

It’s hard to see anything because it’s already dark, but I know the airport is close to the ocean. I can see city lights through the window, but I’m too tired to try and brace myself for the nightlife of Adriata tonight. 

I yawn as we pull up to our gate and the seatbelt signs are turned off. “I think our hotel is pretty close to here.” 

It wasn’t what she was expecting me to respond with. Her smile falters, but she nods. “That’s good.” 

I’m not in the mood for the small talk right now. I don’t have patience for it. Swiping my phone out of my pocket, I see that it’s nearly midnight. I turn it off of airplane mode and a barrage of texts and emails come through. I ignore the texts from my employees until tomorrow and skim over my email, deciding the contents of it can wait until the sun rises, too.

I open the group chat between my brothers and I, sending off a short text letting them know we’d landed. Azriel replies almost immediately, telling us to have fun, while Rhys is all radio silence. Seeing as it’s almost two in the morning in Velaris, I’m not surprised.

It’s taking forever for the people ahead of us to disembark, so I open my text thread with just Az, not wanting to wake up a likely sleeping Rhys or worse — Feyre.

You’re up late, I text. Everything okay?

Again, his reply is almost instantaneous. It’s all good. Elain woke up from a dream craving butter crunch ice cream. I’m at my third grocery store looking for it.

Chuckling, I respond, You know she’ll be fast asleep by the time you get home.

Yeah, but her smile in the morning will make it worth it.

I hate the jealousy that shoots through me reading my brother’s words.

Gwyn is still the only person we’ve told about Nesta’s miscarriages. They have no idea how badly I want what they both have.

Still, I reply, Take care of your woman. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

I hit send as soon as we finally get moving, then we’re making our way to baggage claim. Half an hour later, with my bag tossed over my shoulder and wheeling Nesta’s suitcase behind me, we’re finding a cab to take us down to the beach, where our hotel is.

Nesta booked the flight, but I chose the hotel. With a weight room bigger than the one at my gym and walking distance to the shore, I didn’t even have to think twice about spending the ridiculous amount of money to book us a suite. 

Nesta doesn’t seem to mind either as we make our way into the lobby and she looks around, impressed. The thought occurs to me then that maybe I should’ve picked a shitty hotel. If she likes it too much, it will be that much more tempting to stay in our room and work as she overlooks the endless blue waters beyond our balcony.

Nonetheless, I check in and we make our way up to the ninth floor where our suite lies at the end of the hall. 

The room is big, clean, with a giant bathroom that has a jacuzzi and a little living room with a mini kitchen.

 The only issue is that the couch in the living room is nothing more than a loveseat, which means that it will be me and Nesta in the same bed, yet again.

At least it’s a king size. 

Apparently I’m staring disappointedly at the bed because Nesta asks, “Something wrong?”

Surely she knows. One look at her and I can tell she does. “Nope.”

I toss our bags on the loveseat and open mine up, finding my toothbrush and all my other toiletries before making my way to the bathroom and closing the door behind me.

I take longer in the bathroom than I usually would, but I also admit that I’m being a bit of a coward. I’m hoping that when I come out, Nesta will be in bed, already asleep, and I can curl up on the uncomfortable loveseat for what I can only imagine will be one of the worst night’s sleep of my life. I want to skip the fight that I feel is inevitable. I’m too tired to fight, too tired to explain to her why I can’t sleep in the bed with her.

But what I want doesn’t matter, because when I exit the bathroom, Nesta isn’t in bed. She isn’t even in the room.

The sliding door leading the balcony is open, sheer, white curtains fluttering in the warm breeze and I know that’s where I’ll find her.

She doesn’t notice me immediately, her eyes closed as she takes in the ocean air. Her hair hangs long and loose down her back, freed from the braid she usually wears it in, and she’s changed out of her leggings and t-shirt. I don’t recognize the pale, lace night gown she’s wearing.

But she looks absolutely ethereal standing in the moonlight.

I’m breathless.

Even when I’m pissed, frustrated with this woman, she has the power to take my breath away.

Which is why I’m still here, why I didn’t leave for good. I need that reminder as I step onto the balcony. 

Her eyes open as I lean against the railing next to her but she doesn’t look at me. For a moment, neither of us say a word, but then she says, “You can’t sleep on that couch.”

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore relax me. “I know.”

“Does that mean you’re okay sleeping with me tonight?” she asks, and her voice is quiet which is strange for Nesta. It’s strange to hear fear lacing her tone, even if it’s subtle. 

“I did debate on creating a pillow blockade between us,” I say, and I say it as a joke even though it’s something I considered while getting ready for bed. 

Nesta huffs a laugh but there’s hardly any humor in it. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Cassian—”

“It’s late,” I say, and finally look at her. She’s still looking at the water, but her body is relaxed as if she’s come to terms with the conversation we’re about to have. “We can do this tomorrow—”

“No, we can’t.” She turns toward me then and looks up. Her eyes are pleading. “I don’t want this vacation to start off on the wrong foot. This is supposed to be good for us and it can’t be good for us if we’re not communicating. You’re pissed.” I open my mouth, but she shakes her head before I can say anything. “And don’t say you’re not. I’m not stupid, Cassian. I messed up, and I’ve been pretending like I didn’t do anything wrong but I did. I know I did, and I feel foolish. The other night… I’ve been wanting you to touch me like that for so long. It wasn’t that I wanted you to stop, because I didn’t, but when I saw Eris was calling me, my stubborn, workaholic nature took over and I had to answer. If I hadn’t answered, it would have been all I was thinking about, instead of what we were doing. And that’s not an excuse, because I know I hurt you when I answered the damn phone, and you’re right. I shouldn’t have.”

You’re right. Those are not words that leave my wife’s mouth often. 

“But I meant what I said, what I promised you. This weekend is about us. I’m going to wake up every morning, respond to emails, mark a couple of little things off my checklist, and that’s it. And if you feel like I’m taking too long, then tell me. But I got a lot done in the last week, just so I can spend this time with you, uninterrupted. I want you to know that I’m all in, with you. You’re more important than my job, and if you’re feeling like you’re not, I need you to be vocal about it so I can be more aware.”

Last time I was vocal about it, she answered the phone anyways, but I don’t tell her that now. She’s trying. She’s communicating. She’s being honest. So, I nod. “It’s late,” I repeat, although more gentle than before. “Let’s get to bed so we can have a good day tomorrow.”

The fear in her eyes fades and she looks relieved as she takes my hand. I let her pull me inside, toward the bed, where we lay down together beneath the blankets. 

Nothing more is said as we drift off to sleep, but she lays her head against my chest and I hold on to her through the night.

…………..

Nesta

…………..

I haven’t had such a good night’s sleep since the last time I had Cass in bed with me, and the only reason I wake up now is because the newly awoken sun is streaming through the thin curtains and my husband’s cock is burying itself painfully into my backside. 

All night, he never let me go. My back is pressed up against his front, his arm slung lazily across my waist as he breathes steadily into the silence. I can feel his chest rise and fall against my back. It calms me.

I know that he’s sleeping better now than he has in days, too, and I don’t want to wake him so I stay perfectly still, even though I’m tempted, even if all I can think about is the feel of him up against me. 

All I’ve been able to think of since that night is how I could be so stupid. We’ve been making so much progress. We’ve both opened up and talked about things we didn’t want to. I’ve acknowledged that I work too much and that it’s not only one of my character flaws but the main reason I nearly lost my husband.

And the first opportunity I have to prove that he means more to me than any job ever will? I fuck it up.

For a moment, I let myself consider how that night could have ended if I didn’t answer the phone.

Likely with me bent over the kitchen counter, one of my knees propped up on one of the bar stools, as Cassian gripped my hips, pounding into me—

Cassian’s arm tightened around my waist as he shifted in his sleep and I tensed, not sure if he was awake. He murmured something, a sure sign that he was still dreaming, and settled into his pillows, not loosening his grip on me.

His thick erection, nestled into the cleft of my ass, was all I could think about. It made the throbbing between my legs all the more insistent and for a second I thought about touching myself.

What a hell of a way to wake my husband up on the first morning of our vacation.

But then I had a better idea.

I listened closely to the sound of his breathing, ensuring he was still well and truly asleep and then carefully turned over in his arms. It was a slow process, considering the hold he had on me, but after a minute, I found myself gazing into his sleeping face.

Even fast asleep, he’s ridiculously handsome, although that cocky tilt of his lips is gone when he’s out like this. I lay there for a minute, admiring his beauty, and then he stirs and I freeze. The hand that’s slung around me moves lower, his hand cupping my ass with a content sigh before he starts snoring, softly.

I force myself not to laugh, even if it’s adorable, until he shifts again and I can feel every inch of him perfectly against the thin fabric of my nightgown. Mother damn me, I want him inside of me. It takes everything within me not to grind against him, not to take control and give myself pleasure, but this wouldn’t be about me.

It would be about him. 

I reach up and brush his hair back with teasingly soft fingertips. His lips, in perfect calm, form the softest of smiles.

With my hands still tucked in close to me, I press my lips to the center of his chest. It's a soft kiss, my mouth meeting his warm, toned skin, but I let it linger. I let my tongue brush over his skin, and then I move my lips to a new spot and do the same. As I pepper his chest with lingering kisses, I run a hand up his abdomen. His body jumps a little beneath my touch, almost like it tickles, and his hand on my ass tightens. My leg is drawn up over him, and now that I can feel his erection against my throbbing clit, I can’t stop myself from rocking my hips against him, just to ease the torturous feeling, if only a little. Cassian groans quietly, and I know that he’s now awake, even though his eyes are still closed, when his hips rock back into me.

I used to wake him up like this all the time, and he would do the same to me. Waking one another with little, teasing kisses until it escalated into something far more. I miss waking up like this, with him, starting off my day in pure bliss, with a euphoric high. 

He breathes my name, and the second it falls from his tongue, I can’t control myself any longer. My mouth trails up the side of his neck until it finds that spot he loves, just beneath his jaw, just below his ear and sucks vigorously as my hand slides back down his hard abdomen. My fingers tease the waistband of his sweatpants, but he’s not having it. 

“Nesta,” he pleads, yet again, and I nip at his skin, causing him to moan quietly above his deep, heavy breaths. His hips can’t stay still, as if his cock has a mind of its own. But he shouldn’t have to chase it, shouldn’t have to be the one to guide pleasure. My hand slips into his sweats and I take him into my hand.

The second my fingers wrap around his length, he curses. 

I lean back, and his eyes are open, his lips parted. The look full of lust and love and need that he gives me makes me want to mount him right here and now, but this morning is about him. Instead, I pump him a few times, slowly, before pulling my hand out of his pants and just when he’s about to protest, I straddle his thighs and yank his sweats down until he’s free.

Everything about my husband is magnificent. His face, his hair, his body. And most definitely is cock.

Beautiful, and hard, and absolutely enormous. My mouth is watering as I look at him, at his body I’ve scarcely seen over the past year, at his cock, staring and already dripping precum and practically begging for me to touch it.

Gripping him at the base, I lean in, ready to swirl my tongue around the swollen head, just how I know drives him wild, and—

His hands grab my shoulders, stopping me. “Nesta, you don’t have to—”

“No, I don’t have to,” I agree, rubbing the head of his cock over my lips. “But I want to.”

He makes a choking sound, but doesn’t try to stop me any further.

After almost ten years together, I know his body as well as my own. I know what makes him go crazy and what will unleash him. I know every spot that tickles, what to do that will make him moan and groan and lose control. This morning, I’m pretending I don’t. I take my time exploring him, slowly dragging fingers up and down his length, over the ridge of the swollen head, teasing a vein that runs along the side.

Gazing up at him, I grip him tightly at the base and flick my tongue over the head once. As soon as my tongue glides over his skin, his hand is in my hair and he curses violently.

Our eyes are locked as I do it again, and his jaw ticks as he swallows harshly. The fingers in my hair tighten which makes me moan, a sound that drives my husband wild. I slowly work him, my mouth and hand working in tandem. It isn’t until his head is back on the pillow, his eyes closed, his breathing quick that I take the entirety of him into my mouth. 

That foul language of his greets me once more, and his filthy mouth does things to me that I have no control of. I keep still for a moment, my tongue running wild before I release him and repeat the motion, again and again, taking him into my mouth, a little quicker each time. His fingers are still tangled into my hair, gripping each strand hard enough to bring on a pleasant tinge of pain. I relish in it, in that pain, in this moment. I don’t even realize I’m touching myself until I’m moaning, the sound muffled as I take him in, as I cup his balls with my free hand and give them a squeeze. 

Unable to keep still any longer, Cassian’s hips began to writhe beneath me. With one quick buck, I have him fully in my mouth yet again, and I grab his ass to encourage him to repeat the motion.

His other hand joins the one in my hair, but this one smooths it back off my face, making sure he can see everything I’m doing. Gazing up at him, I can tell the second he notices my hand moving frantically, my own orgasm building quicker than I expected it. His eyes grow impossibly darker, fingers massaging my scalp before pulling on the strands of my hair again. “Are you close?”

I nod, loving the gravely tone of his voice, rough with sleep and lust. My mouth is too full to answer directly, so I bob my head in time with the fingers plunging in and out of my center.

Cassian tugs my hair, once again. “Let me watch you come.”

My entire body feels like it’s on fire as my toes curl, that sensation that I haven’t felt in so long starting to flow its way through my body. My mouth, my movements, become less fluid and Cassian tugs at my hair again, this time pulling my mouth free of his cock.

Dragging me up his body, his lips crash against mine as his fingers replace mine. I gasp at the feeling of his fingers sliding through my folds, unable to stop the moan as he circles my clit.

Reaching between us, I grip his cock, still slick and wet from my mouth and squeeze as I stroke him from base to tip.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, pumping his hips into my hand, fucking it like he had my mouth moments before. I’m just as desperate for release as he is. I’m grinding into his hand as he expertly works me, thumb circling my clit in time with the finger he has plunged inside me, knowing it’ll have me on the edge in a matter of seconds. He bites down on my neck and I moan. “So wet and so needy.”

And then he lowers his head to my breasts.

The blunt edge of his teeth on my nipple sends me falling into utter bliss. I cry out as my entire body tenses, my pussy clenching around his fingers.

Cassian groans low and then I can feel a warm wetness on my lower belly and my hand. Still lost in the orgasm crashing through me, I barely notice as Cassian curses softly, his voice laced with ecstasy.

Then his mouth is on mine again and he’s kissing me like I’m the air he needs to breathe, like a man who’s been starving being presented a feast.

My mind can’t form a single thought. All I can focus on are his hands around my waist, his mouth on mine, the hunger and desperate need radiating off of him, even though we’ve both found our releases. There’s something far deeper that just happened between us than helping one another orgasm and feel good. A wall has broken down, a barrier has crumbled that has been up for far too long. I feel lighter as he kisses me, as his tongue brushes mine, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

And when I break our kiss to meet his gaze, I know, without a doubt, that he feels it, too.

[autumnshighlady]

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 11)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Nesta is now in the Autumn court, and the reader has gone missing.

warnings: the usual IC slander, Cassian slander, mentions of abuse/beating, misogyny

word count: 7.7k holy

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: FINALLY THE NERIS POV!!!! So many of you have been begging for this part and I’m so glad I can finally deliver. Let me know what you think!

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10

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NESTA POV

You were gone before Nesta could even blink. Your sweet scent only lingered in the space that you had once been, her hand now cold. Nesta saw red, trying to calm the uproar of silver fire inside of her that begged to be unleashed.

She whirled on Rhysand. “Where the hell did she go?” Her tone of voice left no room for bullshit.

The High Lord merely shrugged, folding his hands into his pockets and shrugging. “She’s probably fine, don’t worry.”

“I didn’t ask that,” Nesta growled, clenching her fists. “You’re going to tell me where she is.”

“Actually, I won’t. We need her here, not in Autumn.”

Rage made Nesta’s voice shake. “Why? So you can just send her off to the continent to be killed?”

For once, Rhys was silent. Nesta allowed a bit of that silver fire to flare into her eyes, letting him see what she would do if you were hurt. Every once of power within her was churning like a stormy ocean, wanting to be released upon this entire damned court. It sang to her, playing on her rage.

You had been taken from Nesta. Azriel had ripped your hand from hers and whisked you away to a location she probably had no hope of finding. She fought to keep the tears at bay – she had promised you that she wouldn’t leave without you, and now you were gone. The female who had reached out her hand and pulled her from her lowest point was snatched away moments before you all could have gotten away. You had seen and understood what Nesta had truly needed – to make her own choices rather than be broken into submission. You had given her strength, and now you were gone.

Feyre’s brows were furrowed and she stared at Nesta. “What are you talking about?”

She was unable to help herself – Nesta laughed humourlessly. “Don’t tell me your loving mate kept another secret from you?”

Feyre’s eyes darted between her and Rhys, unsure. Nesta knew they were speaking mentally, and she took that moment of silence to try reaching you.

(Y/N)? Where are you?

No response came. Nesta tried again and again, heart beating faster as each moment passed where your end remained quiet. She wasn’t sure if Azriel had taken you on Rhys’ orders or on his own volition. She prayed it was all part of some master plan you had formed and failed to tell Nesta, to make sure her reaction was real.  

Rhys fixed Nesta a level stare, violet eyes glowing with warning. “I suggest you leave for your new court, Lady Nesta.” He growled.

“No!” Both Feyre and Cassian exclaimed at the same time in protest.

“Quiet.” Rhys’ tone was lethal, and the two were silent.

Thorns pricked at Nesta’s heart at the sight. Her beautiful, strong sister who had hunted for them in the woods for years and defeated Amarantha before getting her neck snapped, was so easily subdued by her mate. Nesta knew how much trauma her sister had been through with the trials under the Mountain, and now she was just another one of Rhys’ puppets like everyone else. Rhys had used what Tamlin did to Feyre to paint himself as her salvation, and make Tamlin the bad guy when they were two sides of the same coin.

Except Tamlin would have told Feyre that her child would kill her.

Nesta glanced at Cassian – his eyes were so wide, so panicked and enraged at the thought of her leaving, it sent a sick feeling through her gut. She had become so close to maybe loving Cassian, to truly letting him in. But the more time went on the more she had realised that he would always side with Rhys – the clues were there earlier, but she had been too blind to see them. He had shamed her for sleeping with males after the war, yet he was 500 years old and had bedded a hundred times the males she had. Rhysand’s opinions seeped into the minds of the Inner Circle and became their own, like they were mindless puppets under his control.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Nesta growled at Cassian, feeling an ache in her chest – his ache, at her words. She felt him reaching and tugging at that link between them, the one that urged every part of her to run to his side. But she pulled away, shutting out his presence completely and instead reaching for that silver thread in her chest that called to you, drawing from its strength.

“Nes-” Cassian pleaded, breathing heavily.

“No.” Nesta’s words were firm, any ounce of affection she had drained out of her body. “You are not entitled to me. I don’t care what your reasoning is. I am done with this court, and I am done with you.”

“The High Lord is right, my dear,” Eris warned, gently touching Nesta’s elbow. “We should get going.”

Nesta met Rhys’ stare, smouldering. “Not without (Y/N).”

Dark mist began swirling between the High Lord’s fingers, a heavy sense of darkness falling over the room like a blanket. His voice was so low it was almost a snarl. “Leave.”

Her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands, drawing blood. The silver fire within her was pleading to be released, to cleanse this cursed city and sink it to hell. But Nesta did not know where you were, if you were still here or if Azriel had taken you far away. The risk was too great, and as much as Nesta wanted to burn this place to the ground, she knew that many of the innocent females in this court did not deserve to be sacrificed in such a fate. But perhaps many of them wished they would.

“Let’s go,” Eris spoke quietly, his grip on her elbow tightening. “We’ve caused enough of a scene.”

The Autumn prince seemed composed, but Nesta could feel the panic coming off him. He did not know where you were either, apparently, but seemed determined to get Nesta out of there regardless. She let him walk her a few steps away, but turned and gave the High Lord one last glare.

“If anything happens to her,” Nesta growled, letting that silver fire come out just enough to make Cassian and the others go still. “I do not care what you have done for me. I do not care that you are my sister, Feyre, or that Cassian is my mate. I will level this place and everything in it if (Y/N) is hurt in any way. Mark my words, High Lord. I will come for you.”

Thunder cracked above, and the very walls of the mountains trembled as Nesta lifted a finger and pointed it directly at Rhysand. He shrank from it, the dark mist retreating back into his fingertips like it was running away from Nesta’s power, unwilling to even try and fend it off. Silver flames melted from her body and slithered along the floor, creeping towards the table where the Inner Circle resided.

Feyre’s eyes were wide with shock as she stood up, hand curled protectively over her belly. Mor grabbed onto the High Lady’s shoulder, pulling her away from the silver flames and behind Rhysand. The only one who didn’t flinch was Cassian. His hazel eyes remained on Nesta, slightly glassy as if some spell overcame him. The general remained motionless, even as the silver flames crept closer.

Rhys snarled viciously, dark mist exploding from his fingertips and pulling screams from the audience, many of whom were winnowing away or fleeing the scene entirely at the showdown in front of them. But Nesta’s fire relented, singeing the expensive table and causing the wood to crackle and fall away. Rhys’ darkness tried to smother the fire, but it made no effect. The flames rose, as hot as lava yet as cold as ice as Nesta’s eyes glowed, never leaving the High Lord.

She was like a goddess of death, skirts bathed in silver fire yet never burning her. She let every ounce of hate she had suppressed for months bleed into her flames, causing them to whorl angrily like a stormy sea. Candles spilled over and statues crumbled as the mountain continued to tremble in response to Nesta’s power. Feyre’s cheeks were stained with tears as her sister’s fire halted inches away from the Inner Circle.

Save your tears, sister. Nesta scoffed. This is your fault too. If you had bothered to stand up to your mate in any way, none of this would have happened.

A twinge of guilt flickered in Nesta’s gut. She knew her sister’s naivety had been taken advantage of by her mate, but that did nothing to soothe the hurt within her at the fact that her sister had chosen a male she had known for maybe two years over Nesta. A male who painted himself as her saviour when she was at her lowest.

Nesta remembered holding Feyre as a baby, rocking her in her arms to help her fall asleep while their mother wanted nothing to do with the youngest child. Nesta had vowed to always look out for Feyre, even hiring that mercenary to help her try and get to Prythian after Tamlin had taken Feyre away from them. But all Feyre chose to remember, all she elected to tell people, was how Nesta let her go hunting in the woods at 14. As if it was Nesta’s job to step up as a parent at the age of 17.

Feyre had chosen to paint Nesta as the bad guy, and she was fine with letting them believe it. She no longer cared.

Out of the corner of her eye, orange flames entwined with her silver ones, casting an eerie glow in the room. Still, Nesta kept her gaze on Rhysand, fixing him with that stare that she could tell unnerved him. His chest heaved with the effort of trying to put out her flames, but to no avail. Her rage was no match for him.

“Nesta,” Eris’ voice purred in her ear, breaking the whirlwind of screaming in her own head. “Why don’t we go home? Those silver flames have had enough playtime for today.”

Nesta felt stuck, like her entire body was frozen with her finger pointed at the High Lord. She couldn’t move. But a gently orange flame wrapped around her arm, warming it. It was hot, but not hot enough to burn. Like the rays of sun after a winter’s chill, it brought warmth back into her bones. The flames mixed with her own, taming them as Nesta lowered her hand. The mountain’s trembling stopped, but the thunder overhead continued to rage, the flames flickering like an extension of lightning.

A flame-covered hand gently caressed her face, bringing her attention to Eris. He had stepped up beside her, flames whorling around his body in a similar manner to her own. His long hair danced with his orange fire, as if he was more flame than fae. Her silver, glowing eyes landed on Eris’ green ones that swirled with trickles of embers within them. She sighed at the warmth of his flames, letting them envelop them both in a mix of silver and orange fire.

“You beautiful, wicked goddess,” Eris breathed, his mouth inches away from Nesta’s, so much so she felt the heat from his words on her lips. “I’ve had enough of this court for one day. Let me take you home.”

Nesta felt herself snap back to reality, the roaring in her own head fading as the sounds of the room around her came back once again. But she did not look at her sister, or her mate. No, all she could focus on was Eris, standing so close to her. His thumb caressed her cheek, and his other hand was enclosed around her waist as if they were dancing like they had earlier. He looked beautiful, his angular face glowing with the light of their entwined flames. He stared at her with wonder, not fear like the others were. No, Eris did not shy away from her flames, but embraced them like they were his own. Two sets of fire merging into one, powerful force as he held her so close she was sure she would stop breathing.

At the same time, both Nesta and Eris turned their heads towards Rhysand and his family. The High Lord flinched at the motion, at the two fae already in synch as if they were one entity. He stared at them with nothing but hatred in his eyes, ignoring the pleas from Feyre behind him. Nesta let the glow in her eyes flare as Eris’ flames did the same, a threatening motion that insinuated instant incineration to anyone who made a move against them.

“Thank you for the invitation, Rhysand,” Eris said smoothly, his hand still on Nesta’s face. “I’m sure we’ll see you around. Perhaps at our wedding.”

Eris did not give Rhys time to make a move before he winnowed himself and Nesta away, taking their flames with them.

*********************

Nesta’s stomach churned as the whirling motion of winnowing vanished, leaving her dizzy. It took a few moments for her to catch her breath, doubling over and inhaling shakily. With the retreat of her flames, her entire body trembled. She could barely even register the red trees around her before she collapsed to the ground.

*********************

A soft, golden glow caused Nesta’s eyes to flicker open. Mind fuzzy, she tried to lift her head but failed, groaning as the feeling came back into her body. She felt as if her bones were made of rocks, creaking and grinding painfully with even the slightest hint of movement. There was a relentless pounding in her head that screamed at her to go back to sleep. She was tempted to, but the recent memories came flooding back.

Nesta jolted upright, ignoring the protests of her body. She took in the unfamiliar surroundings and panic flooded her. She was in a large bed, deep red sheets covering her body. They were soft against her skin, which she realised was covered in a soft white nightgown. Confused, she looked around the room. The bedframe was a deep, rich brown, carved with intricate designs like wood. The walls were high and arching towards the centre where an elaborate chandelier hung from the ceiling, decorated with a vast array of candles.  A fireplace was directly across from the bed on the other side of the large room, a comfortable looking armchair and lounge couch directly in front of it. A large window let in the morning light to the left of the bed, and Nesta squinted at the brightness. Slowly, she pulled the soft sheets away and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

Outside the window, a small body of water was sparking in the morning light. There was a small clearing between the window and the water’s edge, and lush green grass swayed in the gentle breeze. In the distance, Nesta noticed a large white horse grazing freely, a smaller dark brown one next to it. Large trees with thick trunks everywhere in varying burnt shades of autumn colours, and the chirping of birds were carried in the wind.

As Nesta inhaled, she felt the cool breeze from outside come in through the cracked window. It filled her lungs, soothing the burning sensation that seemed to coat her insides. The air smelled damp and musky, yet sweet at the same time. She tipped her head back, letting the breeze cool off her sweaty face.

On shaky feet, Nesta pushed herself up off the bed. Her body protested, legs unable to hold her up as she crashed onto the floor with a loud thump. She cursed, the ache in her bones worsening at the sudden contact with the wooden floor. The handle of the door clicked as it turned, and Eris rushed into the room.

Nesta hissed in pain as she tried to stand up, but failed again, her body giving out.

“Good morning to you.” Eris said casually, reaching out a hand. Nesta glared at him, grabbing onto the bed frame instead to haul herself up. She grunted in pain, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

The prince snorted, shoving his hand back in his pocket. “You know it would have been much less painful if you had just let me–”

“Shut up.” She hissed, putting her head in her hands. “Just shut up.”

Eris said nothing, only coming down to sit on the bed a few feet away from her. She was thankful for the distance, that he had the decency to respect her space. If he were Cassian, he would have sat right next to her, ignoring her desperate pleas to be left alone until she gave up and accepted his help on his terms.

But Eris was not Cassian. He did not look at her with pity, only curiosity. His long hair was tied back into a low ponytail with a leather strap, and he bore a simple, white, billowy shirt and brown trousers. It was more casual than Nesta had ever seen him, which brought her some comfort.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes as Nesta evened her breathing. “You were supposed to take us both.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I know.” He responded evenly. “But the shadowsinger whisking her away complicated things. She made me promise to get you out, no matter what happened to her.”  

Nesta’s eyes prickled with tears. She lifted her chin, refusing to let them fall. Her chest ached, the tattoo on her sternum like a cold brand that burned an empty hole in her heart. She could usually tap into its magic and feel you, sense the way your mark called to hers, hear your heartbeat through the bond. But there was only silence and emptiness. She could tell you weren’t dead, but the unknown alternative was almost worse.

You had fought so hard to get Nesta out, and she had finally escaped. But without you. The thought made her sick with guilt, heart aching at the thought of leaving you alone in the Night Court. “I promised her…” Nesta’s voice broke. “I promised her I wouldn’t leave without her.”

“And you did the best you could,” Eris assured her calmly. “But none of us could have predicted Azriel taking her away like that. I do not know if he did it of his own volition or under Rhys’ orders, but I will do my best to find out. One way or another, we will get her back, Nesta.”

“How?”

“Do not worry about that, I will take care of it.”

Nesta turned to face Eris, finally meeting his green gaze. “No,” She said firmly. “I will not sit by while you claim to be looking for her.”

Eris cocked an eyebrow in amusement, lips pulling into a smirk. “Do you not trust me, Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta straightened her spine. “No.”

He shrugged, seemingly unoffended. “Understandable, given what the Night Court has probably told you about me. But just for the sake of satisfying my own ego, let me explain something to you. It has been four days since the Winter Solstice celebration in the Hewn City. You have spent those four days passed out cold in my bed. Yes, Nesta, this is my room. In fact, this is my private residence. I have one in the main castle where I spend much of my time when I am busy at court, but not even my father can enter this one. The grounds are entirely safe, and I have my own staff that are loyal to me, not my father. Who, by the way, does not know you are here yet. I must tell him soon before he finds out from someone else, but my point is that I could have easily forced you to wake up and dragged you in front of him. Sure, he would be royally pissed that I brought you without his permission, but the benefits of having you in his court would outweigh that.”

Nesta swallowed the bile in her throat. She remembered the High Lord of the Autumn Court from the meeting, how Beron Vanserra had looked at everyone with nothing but cruelty and disdain, deeming them all lesser than him. Nesta was no fool – she knew that while the Inner Circle was not the most reliable source, they were right on the mark about Beron’s cruelty. “So why haven’t you done that?” She asked cautiously.

“A few reasons, believe it or not. First being I made a promise to (Y/N) that I would keep you safe. And with my father, you would not be. Secondly, I am sure you have heard about how the majority of this court treats its females. He would want us married and to have you pregnant by the end of the month, most likely. You would be locked in the castle, made to bear children and lend my father your powers for the rest of your life. That is not a fate I want for you, Nesta Archeron.”

Nesta’s brows furrowed. “And why do you care about me? You don’t even know me.”

“Again, two reasons. One, (Y/N) cares deeply about you. And two, that is the exact fate my mother suffered. If you believe one thing about me, Nesta Archeron, believe that I do not want to see any female living the life my mother is forced to live. Not if I can help it.”

Nesta huffed, shaking her head. “I’d like to believe that, Eris. But Rhys also claims to care about helping females, yet he lets the females in the Court of Nightmares be married to cruel males every day. And he lets the female Illyrians get mutilated and bred like livestock. So how exactly are you different from him?”

Eris was quiet for a moment, as if he was choosing his words carefully. Nesta was torn, she wanted to trust him – you had seemed willing to, but you weren’t here to judge Eris’ actions. She didn’t know Eris like you did, and was hesitant to trust him. She had hoped that he was different from Rhys, but had no way of telling yet.

“Nesta,” Eris said coolly. “I understand there’s nothing I can say to make you believe I am different from him. I will let you be the judge of that. In the meantime, you can reside here. You are free to wander the grounds, but I would advise you to wait until I have spoken with my father before leaving them. I will show you around, and you spend your time doing as you wish. And together, we will work on getting (Y/N) back.”

Nesta paused for a moment, then nodded. Eris was right – he could do all the talking in the world right now and she would still not fully trust him. But she would give him a chance to earn her trust through his actions, not false promises. Starting with getting you back.

She fiddled with the fabric of her nightgown before it suddenly dawned on her that she was in his private residence. “Wait, am I in your room?”

Eris smirked at her, making her nervous. “Yes, you are.” He said smugly.

A horrified, embarrassed pit grew in Nesta’s stomach as she realised somebody had to have put her in the nightgown. Her cheeks went red instantly. “Did you….”

The smirk disappeared at Nesta’s discomfort, and Eris snorted. “Mother above, no. While undressing you would be an honour, you were completely unconscious after using so much of your power. My mother and her female servants took you to your room and closed the door. I waited in the hallway while they removed your dress and put you in a nightgown. I did not enter until they said it was okay, and by then you were tucked in bed.”

Nesta sighed with relief, then mulled over his words. “Your mother was here?” She had only seen the Lady of the Autumn Court once, at the meeting. She had seemed frail and sullen, a faceless shadow in the presence of her cruel husband. There had been no life to her face, no emotion, just submission.

Eris stood up, strolling over to the window. He cranked the lever, pushing the window open and letting more of the morning air inside the room. “Yes,” He said, turning back towards Nesta and leaning against the windowsill. “She made that nightgown you are wearing. She, too, would like to keep you as far removed from my father as possible.”

“She won’t tell him I’m here?”

“Never. She has been through hell with my father, and he has broken her in so many ways. But she would never betray another suffering female, or her sons, no matter what he did to her. You are safe with her, Nesta.”

“Where is she?”

“Back in the palace with my father. He does not let her leave his sight for long.”

Nesta rubbed her temples, the pounding in her head not subsiding. “And I was asleep for your days?”

Eris hummed an agreement. “Have you ever released your power like that, Nesta?”

She shook her head.

“Interesting. Your magic is powerful, and needs to be released in small portions frequently so you don’t burn out. Suddenly letting go of that much power after suppressing it for so long when your body is not used to it took a lot out of you. It’s why you feel like shit. You will take a few days to feel better, but I can have one of my healers bring you a tonic to help. Would you like that?”

“Yes please.” Nesta said, cracking her knuckles.

Eris cocked his head, staring down at her. “Did they even let you train your powers?”

“A bit. With Amren, but it wasn’t really releasing my magic. She was trying to teach me how to reach out with it, but that’s it.”

“And you never were permitted to release even a single flame?”

“No.”

Eris scowled, visibly disgusted. He brought his slender hand off the windowsill and held it out, palm upwards. An orange flame appeared instantly, swirling in his hand. The tendrils flickered in the breeze, and she leaned forward with fascination. It was so different from her own fire, so bright and warm. Nesta wondered if her flames could even be put in the same category as fire.

“Like calls to like,” Eris said smoothly as the flame swirled into a column. “Our powers are similar, Nesta. I know how it feels to let it build up inside of you. Granted, our magic is different in many ways, but you can feel your fire calling out to mine right now, can’t you?”

He was right – Nesta felt the silver flames rise within her, begging her to let them out to play with Eris. They sang inside her, harmonising with the song of Eris’ own flames. Nesta felt captivated, almost in a trance-like state as she stared into the orange flame. It wasn’t hard to tell by the delight on Eris’ face that her eyes were glowing a faint silver.

“There we go,” He purred, letting a tendril of flame graze her chin but not burn it. “See how your magic craves mine, how your body craves me now? They create a song of fire and death, especially now that your flames have felt mine.”

Eris’ words kindled something in Nesta, and suddenly the subtle presence she felt within her that pulled her towards Cassian was quiet, extinguished by this new sensation. It coursed through her like water on the rocks, heating her frozen bones.

Eris’ flame disappeared, and Nesta felt the disappointment of her own magic as it retreated in response. “That’s enough playtime for today,” He said. “Your body has not recovered enough yet. But if you like, I can help you control it.”

Nesta’s throat was dry. The ache in her chest for you was almost unbearable, amplified by the churning sea of magic inside her that begged to be released and cleanse the world out of rage for you. She never talked about her magic, what it did to her. Not even with you. You were someone she felt comfortable sharing almost anything with, but not once did she reveal her greatest fear to you – that she would lose control of her flames and harm you.

The thought had occurred to her many times. Whenever she gazed upon your sweet smile, or your mischievous eyes she felt her heart flutter, but her magic responded too. She figured it was a result of the spell-made bond between you two, and it frightened her. It seemed her flames sang both to you and Eris, but she did not understand what they wanted, or why they were so drawn to you. It had never been that way with Cassian, even in their most heated and passionate moments. No, the flames were silent with him. Yet the only reason she pulled away after her first kiss with you was out of fear she would set herself and you ablaze.

And Nesta knew she’d never forgive herself if her magic harmed you. She did not want to embrace her magic, for it served as the reminder of everything bad that had happened in the past year. But for you, she’d brave it.

“Ok.” She said slowly. “But only under two conditions.”

Eris cocked his head, an amused look playing at his features. “Oh? And what might those be, my lovely bride?”

Nesta crossed her arms. “Firstly, you never lock me up. I am free to go where I wish whenever I wish and you will not try to coerce me under the illusion of some shitty choice. Got it?”

A red eyebrow was raised, as if he wanted to press the issue. But Eris simply nodded, allowing Nesta to continue.

“Second,” She said firmly, ensuring Eris was meeting her gaze. “I will only train so long as you are doing everything in your power to get (Y/N) back. Only if you swear on your life to both of those things will I cooperate.”

“I swear it,” Eris said, dramatically pressing his hand to heart. “Now rest, my dear. I will be back tomorrow after dealing with breaking the news of your arrival to my father. Then I can give you a tour of my grounds, if that’s what you’d like. If you need anything, my servants will be around to assist you.”

Nesta bit her lip, nodding. As much as she secretly wanted to explore Eris’ residence, the ache within her bones told her that he was right, and she should rest. The prince returned her nod politely, clasping his hands behind his back and heading towards the door.

“Eris!” She called out before she could stop herself.

He paused, hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”

Nesta paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Thank you.” Was all she said.

“Do not thank me yet, Nesta Archeron.” He warned, no hint of the usual mischief in his green eyes. “You have a long road ahead of you, and finding (Y/N) may not be easy. My father will not sit passively on your presence in his court. And you have to brace yourself for the day Cassian comes for you. Because he will, Nesta. And when he does you must be ready to make a choice.”

He did not linger, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him before Nesta could respond. She sighed, mulling over their conversation.

Nesta hoped beyond hope that Azriel’s disappearance with you was his own choice and not Rhysand’s order – that way you stood a better chance of finding your way to Autumn. She had noticed how the spymaster softened to you over the weeks of training. His normally expressionless gaze was different with you, even though half the time it was masked with annoyance. As much as Nesta had hated it, it had made her jealous. Deep down she knew his interest in you was nothing remotely romantic, only fascination with a female who spoke to him like she did not care about his reputation as Rhysand’s feared spymaster. No, you and Azriel had an easiness to your dynamic that likened what Nesta had with Emerie or Gwyn. She prayed it was enough for Azriel to save you from whatever hell the High Lord wanted to put you through.

Another cool breeze swept in, brushing the tear that had fallen down Nesta’s cheek. She laughed quietly, reminded of the House she had befriended in the Night Court. It had looked out for her when nobody else but you had, and while she was glad to be rid of the court, she certainly missed the House.

Nesta’s head returned to the soft pillow as she wrapped the blankets around her tightly, laying on her side to stare out the window. The horses in the distance had begun grooming each other’s withers, leaves fell all around them in the breeze, scattering across the green grass. It was like a painting, something Feyre would be dying to capture on her canvas if she had the opportunity. The majestic beasts seemed so content to simply exist in the presence of one another, the same way you and Nesta had – no expectations, no definite plans or overthinking. Just peace.

Another tear dripped down Nesta’s cheek, pooling onto the white pillow. She missed you, craved the feel of your presence in her chest that always soothed her mind in her worst moments. She had gotten used to having you so close even when you weren’t physically there, it felt as if her chest was about to cave in and shatter without you holding her together.

I wonder if this is what Feyre felt when Rhys died in the war? Nesta wondered, pressing a hand to her sternum, an unintentional attempt at soothing the ache. If she reached carefully, she could feel Cassian on the other end of the mating bond. She dared not venture too close, avoiding making any contact with the bond itself and alerting him of her presence. On the other end, she felt every bit of Cassian’s rage. His anger towards her for leaving, towards Eris for taking her away, and towards Rhys for letting it happen. He was feeling so many things at once, Nesta pulled back.

Yet everything was slightly muted, as if she was staring at Cassian through a foggy window. Vividly, she recalled Feyre describing the bond to her as feeling exactly what the other felt, not just watching it from afar. It didn’t feel like that with Cassian, but she wasn’t about to ask Eris about it.

Nesta wasn’t sure what to think of Eris yet. He hadn’t done anything wrong per se, but she could tell he was hiding something. The prince was a secretive male, but one who she had no choice but to trust.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and let the breeze lull her back into a deep sleep.

*********************

Earlier that morning, Nesta had woken up to a knock on the door. Groggily, she had rubbed her eyes and called for whoever it was to come in. Servants had greeted her politely, bringing her a tray of breakfast pastries, fruits, and a small bowl of oatmeal. They did not linger, merely laid out a dress on the chair for her and left after saying Eris would be arriving in an hour.

The gown was a deep green, with a square neckline and long loose sleeves. It flattered Nesta’s figure, and was somehow just the right level of tightness. She had also surprised herself by eating almost all the breakfast, her body clearly needing it after sleeping for four days apparently. While she had waited for Eris, she balanced upon the windowsill, content to stare out at the clearing and the water, trying not to make herself sick with worry for you.

Her dreamless sleep after using her powers had gone, as last night had been plagued with dreams of you, and it had left her waking up in a cold sweat. In the dream, Nesta was in a pit of darkness, reaching out her hand and calling out your name. You had been screaming, and she fought her way through the darkness to try and get to you. But it was as cold as ice, and the darkness was never ending. And then the dream changed, and she was in a dungeon. In the middle of the room you were chain, arms and legs spread barely enough for you to support your own weight. You looked pale and exhausted, tears staining your cheeks. Nesta tried to run to you, but the second she moved, a dust of darkness swept you away, and she had woken up.

It had taken half an hour of Nesta gulping in the fresh air to stop the shaking. Everything felt so real, and she couldn’t get rid of the pit in her stomach.

“Good morning,” Eris’ voice came from outside the door. “May I come in?”

Nesta pushed herself off the windowsill, smoothing the skirts of her dress. “Yes.” She called out.

The handle clicked as Eris entered the room. He looked much more formal than yesterday, donning a green tunic the same shade as her dress with a brown vest over top of it. His hair was neatly combed, and he looked put together – except for the nasty bruise framing his left eye. It was a deep purple with hints of red around the edges. The bags under his eyes outweighed his usual smirk.

Nesta raised an eyebrow. “What happened to your pretty face?”

Eris chuckled, taking another step towards her. “I’m flattered to know you think I have a pretty face, darling.”

She scoffed, ignoring the purr in his voice that threatened to make her cheeks go red. “Seriously, Eris. You were fine yesterday, what happened? DId you fall off your horse?”

“You have such little faith in my riding skills, Nesta.” Eris smirked, winking once before his expression turned more serious. “But no, I did not fall off my horse, thank you very much. I informed my father of my decision to bring you here and marry you. This is some of the result of his reaction.”

Nesta frowned, feeling queasy. The High Lord had done this to his own son, and Eris simply took it. She almost didn’t want to know what other horrors that Beron had inflicted on his own family. Sure, her own father was neglectful and hypocritical, but he had never laid a hand on her like this.

“Are you okay?” She asked carefully, studying the nasty bruise.

“I’m doing wonderful, Nesta.” Eris quipped. “Actually, considering my father didn’t incinerate me on the spot for offering my hand in marriage without his permission, I’d say it went quite well all things considered.”

Eris strolled over to the couch, swinging his legs up to rest them on the table before grabbing a leftover pastry and popping it into his mouth. Confused, Nesta stared. For a son whose father just beat him, Eris seemed to be in suspiciously good spirits.

“Come, sit.” Eris flashed her a toothy grin and patted the empty space next to him. “I won’t bite, I promise.”

Nesta’s eyes didn’t miss the red marks around his wrist that were revealed as his sleeve rode up ever so slightly. The skin was raw and burned, as if searing chains had been wrapped tightly around them.

But Eris didn’t miss where her eyes went, and his gaze hardened. “Stop looking at me like that,” He growled. “I do not need your pity, and I do not want it.”

Nesta held his gaze, crossing her arms. “It’s not pity towards you,” She snapped. “It's a pity that some males are so weak and pathetic they feel the need to beat their own family into obedience.”

Eris only blinked in surprise, and regret washed over Nesta immediately. She had spoken horrendously about the High Lord in his own court – Beron being evil did not matter, Nesta had grown up with court manners instilled in her. Being fae would not take that away from her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

The prince merely chuckled, cutting her off. “It’s quite alright, my dear. Refreshing, actually, to hear someone speak the truth about my father. But I would advise not doing so outside of this residence, if you can help it. My father has eyes and ears everywhere except for here, and they will not hesitate to inform the High Lord of any slander to gain his favour.”

He patted the spot next to him again, and Nesta reluctantly sat down. The cushions were soft, letting her sink comfortably into the couch. She was so close to Eris, able to smell the scent of oak and burnt wood coming from his skin. Being in such close proximity to the autumn prince stirred something in Nesta, and she angrily pushed it down. Eris was charming and attractive in his own way, yes, but she could still not get you out of her mind. Or the fact she was still mated to Cassian.

So Nesta ignored how Eris’ arm was casually draped behind her across the back of the couch as she spoke. “So what did he say exactly before he beat you bloody?”

Eris shrugged, grabbing a leftover strawberry and popping it into his mouth. “Oh, exactly as I predicted.” He said between bites. “‘How dare you do this without telling me? Do you have any idea the position you put me in? What’s wrong with you, boy? He calmed down once I told him how beneficial having you in his court would be. In the end he agreed to go through with the marriage, and he was practically salivating about the idea soon after.”

“Was that before or after he hurt you?” Nesta couldn’t stop herself from asking. She had seen so much male cruelty, and suffered much of it firsthand, but Beron was a whole other beast. He lived off of the power that hurting others gave him, and that was terrifying.

“Before. After we spoke, he did all this to remind me what will happen if I go behind his back. Then he requested that you meet us for dinner tonight.”

Nesta baulked. “Tonight?” Panic rose in her chest – she had not prepared to meet Beron so soon. Perhaps she had been delusional in thinking she could have postponed it, but given the past week, Beron Vanserra was the last thing on her mind.

“Yes. He wanted you to be brought to him immediately, but I explained you would be asleep until this afternoon because using your powers took so much out of you. I think the fact you used your magic enough that it overpowered Rhysand was enough to convince him to give you until tonight.”

She frowned. “I don’t know anything about Beron, or this court. If I say the wrong thing tonight…”

A warm hand lightly touched her shoulder, making Nesta’s skin burn. The contact made her breath hitch as the arm that was draped behind her grazed her skin.

“That is why I am here,” Eris said plainly. “We will spend the day together, and I will prepare you as best as I can for tonight. The main rule is to not speak unless spoken to. My father does not take kindly to females speaking out of turn.”

Eris’ hand brought Nesta reassurance, and she couldn’t say why. But as always, that aching feeling in her sternum reminded her of your absence, and the pain of it carved through her chest like a knife and she winced.

Eris frowned. “Are you ok?”

Nesta nodded, pressing a hand to her sternum and breathing deeply. She felt so cold without you, like her chest was nothing but an empty void. Every time she thought of you her heart threatened to crack a little more.

“Yes.” She breathed. “It’s just….”

“Just what?” Eris now sat up, leaning forward to examine Nesta’s face. His hand remained on her shoulder, steadying her.

“I miss her,” Nesta admitted. “I didn’t want to do any of this without her. She’s so brilliant, so good at all of these politics and scheming.”

“That’s why I enjoy my little fox so much.” Eris chuckled, rubbing small circles on Nesta’s shoulder. “But she also told me about this bond you have, that you used an ancient spell for. Can you feel her through it?”

“Usually. It’s like she’s always there on the other end of the rope, but not since Azriel took her. Now it just feels like….nothing. Only cold, dark emptiness.”

“Do you think she is dead?”

“No. I would know if she was. It’s like there’s something in the way of the connection, I don’t know.”

Eris frowned, his fine features twisted into a thoughtful expression. “And it hurts, physically, right now?”

Nesta took another deep breath. “Yes, whenever I think about her for too long knowing she’s not with me.”

“Interesting…” Eris’ murmur was almost inaudible.

Nesta whipped her head towards him. “What is that supposed to mean? Do you know something?”

Eris sat back, letting out a laugh and folding his hands behind his head. Nesta’s skin felt cold where his warm hand had been. “Funny, (Y/N) asked me the exact same thing.”

Nesta rolled her eyes at his avoidance. “And did you tell her?”

“No. Because I knew nothing for certain, and I still don’t. But I will look into it tomorrow, and you may accompany me if you wish.”

Nesta nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope rise. Eris was a resourceful male, and if anyone could find out something about how to regain her connection to you, it would be him. The male smirked, pushing off the couch and standing up. He extended his hand to Nesta.

“Well then,” He said. “It is time to introduce you to my court.”

Nesta let herself take Eris’ hand, realizing now that maybe, just maybe, he was a male worth putting some of her trust into.

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[surielbonecarver]

I love Nesta idc idc

I love her difficult personality. She was interesting.

I understand that a lot of people hate her, but I've liked her from Book 1. From the moment all 3 sisters were going into the market and Nesta stepped in to shoo away the Children of the Blessed, and pulled Feyre aside to warn her to stay away from mercenaries, and especially when it was revealed that Nesta was so strong willed that Tamlin's glamor didn't work on her and that she went to those same mercenaries and tried to cross the wall to save Feyre. I knew instantly that I liked her.

So when Cassian was in her house in Book 2 talking about the past issues between Feyre and Nesta I was???? Confused??? Because didn't Feyre and Nesta move past that in Book 1???? Why is he bringing it up??? I thought we were over this??? And that has nothing to do with him? (Literally Rhys and Feyre weren't even dating yet, I think? So it was literally my sister's friend of a friend is talking shit in my house type of situation)

Sidebar: I wish any of my friends would take words out my mouth to talk shit about my siblings. Yeh, me and my siblings have beef sometimes, but that ain't got shit to do with you???? (Sidesidebar: I don't wanna see anyone trying to say "yeh but I bet your siblings didn't abuse you like Nesta did to Feyre". Stop. You don't know me, my siblings, or my life.)

ANYWAY lol

I, for one, am big on the idea of having a life away from your partner.

So Feyre's literal entire life revolving around the ic was a pass for me. And it actually annoyed tf out of me that Rhysand and The Pips (sry, Feysand and The Pips) were fighting so hard to make Nesta fit in. Because why? If you hate her so much, leave her alone. Don't want her spending your money? Send her somewhere else? The way they constantly verbally and mentally beat her down until she had no choice but to fit in had me grinding my teeth.

She's mean. So what? Amren's attitude was a million times worse than Nesta imo, the only difference is that Amren was a five thousand year old eldrich being the fey told bedtime stories to their kids about to get them to behave. No one says shit to Amren about her attitude because what tf are they going to do about it? Amren literally even says that she likes Nesta and her attitude because it was just like her. But the moment Nesta stops doing what Amren wanted her to do, now she all of a sudden has a problem with her attitude, lol.

We see there are a handful of examples within the books of people that have no problem at all with Nesta. It's literally just Rhys and The Pips that have a problem, and if Rhys has a problem then it's everyone's problem.

Literally.

We are literally told that Nesta was visiting Feyre, Elain, and Amren regularly on her own after acowar and that the only time she seemed to kick up a fuss is when she was being made to participate in ic gatherings. Sooooo.... besides Az, that means Rhys, Morgan, and Cassian were the problem. Rhys and Morgan very openly hate her, and after acowar she made it clear that she wasn't ready for whatever Cassian wanted from her, so she was avoiding him. And Nesta says herself that she didn't hate Rhys. She thought he was an asshole (because he is), but all in all she thinks he's a good male. (**she calls Rhys an asshole to Cassian, but after training when she sees Gwen/the priestesses move away from Rhys she notes how it made her sad (??) because he's a good male and would never hurt a female like that COUGH CHOKE)

Wow this post derailed from the main point

My point is: why does Nesta have to be nice/nicer? Why? And why is Nesta being blamed for everything bad that happened to Feyre when they were kids?

I'm not even joking. Every time Rhys did some shit to Nesta I was WAITING for Feyre to give him shit for it. Feyre does call him out for treating Nesta poorly on multiple occasions across FOUR (4) BOOKS (acomaf, acowar, acofas, & acosf) [I will say that it may only be called out in 3 books, but it's 3 at the very least]. And just when I think she's finally going to snap at him in acosf, it ends up being downplayed as a joke between Cassian and Rhys

Cass: oooh you know you're in trouble for what you did/said to Nesta... you send the staff away so they won't hear the wife nag at you?

Rhys: naaaah, I sent them away so they won't hear something else *suggestive eyebrow wiggle*

Bffr. Seriously? Did he really just sidestep the fact that he did something that obviously upset Feyre.... to fuck?

And the one and only time Rhys is called out specifically for how hypocritical it is for him to hate Nesta but be perfectly fine with Elain, he says that "Elain is Elain" bs (yall my blood ran so hot reading that line I had to put the book down for a moment). Like Rhys actually could've given about a thousand legitimate reasons for why he likes Elain but doesn't like Nesta, and he says THAT?

I'm not going to defend any of Nesta's actions cuz yeah she definitely was being a bitch for a good portion of the book, but also... she doesn't really owe them anything. Especially not her time or her kindness.

Listen. I'm of the opinion that no one owes anyone anything, so I don't wanna hear "well after Feyre did all that the least Nesta can do is blah blah blah—"

No.

I heard enough of that growing up. Enough of that, "I provided for you, so you owe me" bs (this isn't directed at Feyre specificly, since Feyre never actually asks Nesta for anything besides using her home for negotiations but that was a separate, unrelated occurrence). Absolutely not. Nesta didn't ask or tell Feyre to go into the woods. So why should Nesta owe Feyre for that?

I will also never forget how Feyre said Nesta and her were at each other's throats and were mean to each other. Feyre said that. So when people started hating on Nesta because Nesta was mean to Feyre, it felt very one-sided. Also because that detail is one of the many retcons in acotar. Like sjm literally forgot that she wrote that Nesta and Feyre were mean to EACH OTHER but also forgave each other and reached an understanding (all in Book 1), only in the very next book to take it all back.