#Cassian and feyre are bad influences on each other

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

Rhys: Someone taught Feyre "deez nuts" jokes and it's all she says now. Everything is deez nuts. She simply can't stop.

Rhys: I asked Feyre where she learned that joke and she made me promise that the person wouldn't get in trouble if she told me. I agreed.

Rhys: So she leaned in and whispered, "deez nuts."

Rhys: So tell me Cassian, why do you think I brought you in here?

Cassian: So you could suck on deez nuts

[thehighladywrites]

you’re just like me

pairing: cassian x crazy stalker reader

summary: cassian thinks of you as his insanely obsessive ex girlfriend who’s downright crazy. you are obviously cassian’s one true love and will eliminate anything that stands in your way.

warnings: murder, dark romance, cheeky little twist👀, stalking, obsessive behavior, sexual content, knives, nasty sex, um also a sick way of getting off just downright crazy, description of murder… um this is just kinda dark. two psychos encouraging each other

amara’s note: so i might be making this into a series bc i have an amazing idea for azriel next😫😫😫 also guys this was a lil dark lol

You couldn’t understand how Cassian had the nerve to walk away from you. There was absolutely nothing wrong with you, not one single thing. People just didn’t get it; love was supposed to be all-consuming, right? Obsession wasn’t a flaw. It was just proof you cared deeply. So what if you knew his schedule down to the minute, memorized the exact scent of his shampoo, or followed him everywhere he went like your very existence depended on it? That wasn’t weird, it was love. Real, burning, raw love.

Cassian must have been confused, that’s all. Poor thing, probably led astray by some outside influence. Maybe someone whispered lies into his ear or cast some strange spell over his mind. Yeah, that had to be it, because Cassian did love you. He did. He just needed to wake up and realize it again.

And when he did , he’d thank you for never letting go, for being the one person who truly saw him, who loved him without limits.

Seeing Cassian sitting next to some water-wraith makes your heart pound harder and harder, fury bubbling under your skin. That’s it — that’s why he hasn’t been his usual self. That wretched wraith is manipulating him, filling his head with filthy lies about you. Poisoning what was meant to be perfect.

You have to stop this. You have to save him. And the only way to do that is to get rid of her. Permanently.

Your hands itch for action, and you’re already stepping forward when a hand clamps around your wrist.

“Are you about to go over to Cassian?” Feyre’s calm voice cuts through your haze of rage. “Don’t cause a scene.”

You tilt your head, offering her a polite smile. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m simply going to claim what is rightfully mine.”

You tug at her grip, but it holds firm. Feyre’s eyes narrow. “Not so fast. You know Cassian will think you’re crazy if you kill her right here and now.”

Your breath catches. How the hell did she know? Were you that obvious?

Before you can respond, she steps closer, her intoxicating perfume filling your senses. Her voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine.

“If you want that little whore gone, gut her like a fucking fish. I’ll even help you. But not now, it’ll look bad for us.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Never in a million years would you have expected Feyre to suggest murder.

“Why are you so interested in me killing her?” you ask, voice curious.

A wicked smile curls at her lips before she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “That little bitch tried to fuck Rhys right in front of me. Didn’t even bother pretending she didn’t know who I was. She didn’t care. And now I want her gone.”

Her voice cracks with a manic edge before she smooths it over, composure snapping neatly back into place.

She was just like you, a comfort you took pleasure in, someone who understood that love was meant to be fierce, consuming, and without limits.

—

You did exactly what Feyre suggested — waited until the big meeting with all the courts had ended, biding your time until the wraith was on her way back to Spring. She was alone, vulnerable, just as you had hoped.

Before she could winnow away, you struck. Kidnapping her had been easy, far too easy. And then came the best part: stabbing her over and over until you were drenched in her warm blood. Her look of terror sent a sick thrill down your spine, flipping your stomach in delight. Fuck, it felt good to finally get rid of her. Like being on edge for an eternity and finally getting the sweet, blissful relief you'd craved.

You cleaned up meticulously, disposing of every shred of evidence. No one would ever find her.

Winnowing back to Velaris, you appeared just outside Cassian’s house, dagger still in hand. Breaking in through your usual route was second nature by now. You settled yourself on his sofa, waiting patiently like you always did when he needed a gentle reminder of who truly belonged to him.

The door creaked open, and Cassian trudged inside, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. Normally, you'd feel a pang of sympathy for how hard he worked — how much he gave of himself. But not tonight. Tonight, you were kinda pissed.

His eyes flicked toward you, squinting in the dim light. He hesitated, unsure of who he was looking at until he flipped the lights on.

The color drained from his face as he stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock. “What the hell?” His voice wavered. “What are you doing here?”

You tilted your head, offering a sweet, unwavering smile. “Hi, Cassian. Done being a manwhore? Ready to come back to your senses?”

His gaze darted to the blood soaking your clothes, the gleaming dagger in your hand. He shook his head in disbelief, taking another step back, as if distance could protect him from you.

“I said, what are you doing here?” His voice hardens, sharp and commanding.

Yours matches his, cold and steady. “Well, since you seem to be under some delusion that you can get away from me, I figured I’d burst your little bubble and remind you that’s not the case.”

A calm smile spreads across your lips as you lift the dagger, pointing it directly at him. The weight of it feels right in your hand, steady and sure.

Cassian’s chest rises and falls as tension coils through the room. “You’re insane,” he mutters, disbelief lacing every word.

“Call it what you want. Call it love, call it obsession. Call me fucking insane,” you say, taking a slow step forward. “But you belong to me, Cassian. Always have. Always will.”

You shake your head and laugh, a hollow, unsettling sound. “Gods, Cassian. I don't know why you're doing this to me. Stop being so damn difficult and realize there's no one else for you. That water-wraith slut sure knows it now.”

His face goes pale, a hand pressing against his chest. “W-what are you talking about? You... you killed her?” he asks, horrified.

“Sure did.” You smile sweetly, tilting your head. “And I'll end anyone you think can take my place. Am I clear? Either you realize it now, or I keep killing people. It's all up to you.” You shrug nonchalantly, inspecting your nails as if this conversation were about the weather.

There's a long silence, thick with tension, and then something changes.

His voice drops, lower and rougher. “Took you long enough.”

Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing in confusion. His pale, horrified expression has melted away, replaced by something darker, more primal. His eyes gleam with something unholy, and his mouth twists into a cruel, wicked smile.

“Was wondering when you’d kill that little wraith,” he says smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. “Gods know it was hard feigning interest.”

A warmth spreads through your chest, almost dizzying. Was this a dream? No way. Cassian matching your intensity, your madness — that was only supposed to happen in fantasies.

“What?” you whisper, barely believing what you’re hearing.

He steps closer, eyes gleaming darkly. “Didn’t think I noticed your stalking? Or the way you conveniently disposed of anyone I talked to?” His smirk widens, sharp and dangerous. “The way you just happened to show up at places I had scheduled? I’ve been onto you since day one.”

Your breath catches, heart thundering. “And?”

“And I knew you were the one the day you snuck into my room and stared at me, thinking I didn’t know,” he murmurs, eyes burning into yours with dark satisfaction.

A shiver runs down your spine, both thrilled and unhinged by his words. “You knew?”

He leans in closer, voice low and possessive. “Of course I knew. Your heavy breathing was a dead giveaway, sweetheart. You looked like you were seconds away from crawling into bed with me.”

You grin, eyes gleaming with madness. “I almost did.”

And it was true. He had been shirtless, skin smooth and golden in the moonlight, hair tied back so his sharp, handsome features were perfectly highlighted. Only years of discipline had kept you rooted to the spot instead of crawling into bed with him like you’d wanted to.

His smile deepens, dark and taunting. “You should’ve.” He steps closer, voice dropping to a low, sinful whisper. “Not the Gods themselves could have pulled me away.”

Your pulse races, wild and electric. This was so not fucking happening. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not tempting you, my love.” he says, eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “I’m inviting you.”

He looks down at you, hands settling on your hips as he pulls you so close. Cassian’s heat makes your brain go fuzzy and for a moment you’re lost. Just as he is about to kiss you…

”Wait. So you felt the same I did? Why did you act all high and mighty when you’re literally worse than me?” You step back and raise an eyebrow at him, arms crossed over your chest.

Cassian blinks, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst, but instead of guilt or surprise softening his expression, something darker gleams in his eyes — intrigue, even delight. “You’re mad at me, baby?”

“Of course I’m mad!” you snap, practically vibrating with frustration. “You knew I’m bsessed with you, and instead of saying anything, you just sat there, playing with me, making me feel insane.”

Your grip on the dagger tightens in pure frustration. “Do you know how many nights I spent plotting ways to keep you? How much blood I spilled thinking you didn’t care?”

His lips twitch, eyes filled with dark amusement.

“You could’ve just matched my crazy from day one, but nooo, you had to be all stoic and mysterious. Gods, Cassian, that’s infuriating.”

He steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re adorable when you’re pissed off, ya know? A cute, hotheaded little thing.”

“Adorable? I should stab you,” you snarl, but he only grins wider.

“Do it,” he whispers, his voice dripping with challenge. “I’d love to see what happens next.”

Your breath catches, heart racing as his words sink in. Cassian wasn’t just tolerating your madness, he wanted it, thrived on it, matched it beat for beat.

The realization sends a dizzy thrill through you, but you pout anyway, refusing to let him off the hook that easily. “You’re the worst,” you grumble, turning your head away with a dramatic huff.

He chuckles darkly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “I was only interesed in seeing how far you’d go. Didn’t know if you’d run for the hills when I told you I murdered Helion’s advicer for looking at you yesterday.”

Your heart skips a beat, then thunders wildly in your chest. A sharp, wicked grin tugs at your lips despite yourself. “You did that?”

“Snapped his neck right before breakfast. Or did I feed him his own fingers then strangle him with his insides? Can’t say I remember.”

A sick thrill courses through you. Man, he was fucking perfect. It was so fucking wrong but your knees went weak and you started throbbing. He killed someone just for staring at you?

That was actually hot.

—

With no surprise, cassian fucked you for so long, so hard so fucking deep. It was so nasty, a reaaaal mess. one hand of his grabs onto your thigh, another gripping your waist while he’s glancing down at your sloppy cunt, what a masterpiece. Cassian decided he needed to see better so he pulled out as you whimpered pathetically.

his fingers smear his oozing cum all over you, from the slit all the way to your, swollen, throbbing clit.

“look at you makin’ a damn mess.” Your shaky hands gripping his wide shoulders start to slip. His arm tightens around your waist before you fall backwards. “fuckkkk, baby, look at how good your pussy was takin’ me, see how fucking wet she is?” you shudder as his fingers go knuckle deep into your cunt, giving you a few pumps before he pulls it right out, stringy wetness coating them.

he places two thick fingers inside of your mouth, you suck them clean whilst still moving against him, silently pleading for him to fill you out.

“shiiit, not fair. you got these killer hips that’ll dumb down any man.” Cassian finally fills you up again, his fat cock gliding against ypur wall just right. “oh-fuckkkk thaaat’s it, slow baby. slow, fuck me good, yeah?”

Cassian’s breath hitches as you tighten around him, his arm hurling behind the headboard. the desperation of having something to hold on to gives you an ego boost. was your just pussy too damn good?

“c-cas,” you moan, feeling his big fingers stroke their way against your waist to the very undersides of your thighs. you made sure to go slow, slow and steady just like he wanted. cassian’s got a sleazy grin, feeling the wetness of your cunt take him with all its might. “g-gonna cum!”

“i can tell, ah shit— you’re squeezin’ the fuck outta me,” He grunts in response as he feels you writhing, groaning at the gummy texture of your walls mightily gripping around him tight.

But it’s not enough. The rush lingers, addictive and gnawing, and you want more — need more. Something to cling to, something to burn into your memory for the rest of the week. A painfully sweet reminder of just how far you’ll both go for each other.

Your lips curl into a sly smile, voice dropping into a breathy tease. Finally, you’d lock in one last time to see if he was really as crazy as you. “Do you want to know,” You pause, your breath hitching in pleasure, “how it felt to kill t-that wraith?”

Cassian’s entire body tenses, his pupils dilating as a spark of something wild flickers in his eyes. His pulse kicks up, thrumming like a war drum. Fuck yeah, he wanted to know. Every sickening, twisted detail. Morality be damned—this was love.

“Tell me,” he demands, voice low and raw, filled with a dark hunger.

You grin wickedly, savoring his reaction. “It was beautiful,” you whimper, letting the memory flood your senses. “The way her breath hitched when she realized she was going to die? Gods, Cassian, it was intoxicating. She looked so helpless.”

His breath shudders as he pumps harder, his voice gravelly. “What did you feel?”

A dark satisfaction blooms in your chest. “Relief,” you murmur. “Pure relief. Like I’d been waiting forever and I was free.”

Cassian’s eyes burn into yours, his lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Absolutely perfect. Absolutely mine.”

Your heart races as you lean in, lips hovering near his ear. “Next time,” you purr, “I’ll let you watch then fuck me right there.”

That’s it. Those few sadistic words are all the power he needs to finish you both off.

“you’re a nasty fucking girl—ughhhh.”

his speed had the bed creaking louder, and cassian’s grunting in your ear was getting louder as you were feeling fuller than ever. with hot pounds of skin against skin roughly slapping against each other after each second, the two of you felt the same pangs of pleasure and fervent dizziness. “inside, cas—fuck, cum inside me!” before an inevitable flood of heavenly pleasure consumes you both.

your cunt throbs the second he spills an entire whopping load inside of you raw, and you nuzzle your face into his neck. “cas—,” you stammer, and your walls were oh so greedy, adjusting to the way your pussy convulses around him, sharp nails dragging over his back. you both cum together as a surge of electricity pulses through each of your veins.

“fuck… ya better take every drop, s-shit,” he groans before slumping back against the headboard, tugging you closer so your face rests on his neck.

This was absolutely perfect. Cassian was yours now—forever. He could never leave you. And if he tried? You wouldn’t just kill him; you’d burn the entire world down with him. If you couldn’t have him, no one could. He simply wouldn’t exist without you.

That was love.

And Cassian being utterly, unapologetically insane? A gift wrapped in chaos. He understood you better than anyone ever could. Maybe you’d push him, see just how far that darkness in him stretched. Because Cassian didn’t get jealous—he got even. He got murderous.

“I love you, Cassian. So, so much,” you sob into his neck, your body trembling under the weight of the confession.

“I know you do,” he rasps, his voice rough as he grabs a blanket, wrapping it around your shivering form. His strong arms envelop you completely, his touch obsessive, possessive. His hand trails down your hair and back with agonizing tenderness as though memorizing every inch of you.

But something gnaws at you—a flicker of unease. Why wasn’t he saying it back? Did he need more proof that you were his literal wife(even if he didn’t know it yet), his reason for fucking breathing?

As if sensing your doubt, his grip tightens, pulling you even closer until you could hear the rapid, frantic beat of his heart. His lips brush against your ear, his voice low and raw, trembling with emotion.

“There are no words for what I feel for you,” he says, voice breaking. “Love is too weak, too pitiful. What I feel for you—gods, it devours me whole. It’s a sickness, an obsession that digs its claws into me and never lets go. You are everything. My breath, my blood, my madness.”

His words crash over you, wild and terrifying and utterly beautiful. And you know—he belongs to you as much as you belong to him.

Always.

[infiniteetcetera]

MORE RAPID FIRE ACTOAR HOT TAKES BUT THIS TIME THEYRE 🔥HOT🔥 TAKES

🔥Most people who claim to hate Nesta for what she did to Feyre actually just hate her personality and don’t want to admit it. If she were more like Elain or just generally more kind, open, reserved (✨demure✨ if you will) than she wouldn’t get half as much hate, people just like to hide behind the hunting excuse even when it doesn’t make sense as an expectation. even the characters do this themselves (why Rhys/Cassian/Mor have issues with Nesta but not Elain) because Nesta is strong willed and presents as “strong” on the surface there’s this expectation she should have put her life in danger and been able to hunt while Elain as viewed as “fragile” and therefore it’s not a big deal but the reality is personality does not equal hunting ability and this expectation should have been on none of them.

🔥Cassian is NOT and never has been a himbo/golden retriever guy. Like is he a little dense and theoretically attractive? sure, but one of the big components of both those archetypes is respecting women which he NEVER has. He constantly makes sexist jokes, has treated his LI terribly, and the only woman he shows real respect to is Feyre who is an extension of Rhysand in his mind. he definitely wasn’t as bad in the earlier books as recently but he has never been who his fans characterize him as.

🔥Eris has somehow become massively overhyped😭 I see so many people praise him and cheer him on over/as better than the bat boys and I don’t think they realize they have made up a character for him entirely. At best, Eris falls somewhere in the realm of Rhys in morality. He may be “faking” a lot of the bad things he’s done but he has done them (your boy was utm supporting amarantha just like Rhys & may have tried to stop Lucien from literally getting killed but that’s the bare minimum). I do think he’d have been a better/more interesting love interest for Nesta but that’s just because Cassian set the bar SO low. Most of this man’s interactions with women is calling them derogatory terms he is not perfect and has not shown himself to be above any of the other male characters in his actions.

🔥Of all the mated pairs we’ve been shown in this universe the only two who I think genuinely love/wanted each other is Feyre and Rhys. They are FAR from perfect but the mating bond feels almost inconsequential to the start of their relationship. Feyre doesn’t really know/care about it bc of her human roots and Rhys never wants it to influence her decision and admits more than once it makes him worried she feels like she has to be with him (even after they’re together). Cassian’s opposition to that when Rhys brings it up and the entire way he treats Nesta makes it obvious he just wants a mate (or more precisely, he wants what Rhys has) and Lucien obviously would not have given AF about Elain without the bond. I am not a huge fan of mating bonds in this world in general but Feysand is the only ship where it feels like it’s being done right and more just one aspect of their relationship rather than the reason behind it.

🔥The Valkyries winning the blood rite is not that weird when you spend five minutes actually thinking about it, especially with the fact the bat boys are some of the only other people to do it. Like hmmmm what do these two groups of people have in common that the other Illyrians don’t?

1) Weren’t malnourished, sleeping out in the cold, and probably rife with injuries and sickness for YEARS before the rite

2) Have actual people they can trust with them for at least most of the rite

3) Not dealing with the whole wings being bound thing?? like seriously if they’re so sensitive that’s probably incredibly painful or at least annoying. The girls don’t have to deal with this at all and for the boys Rhys probably didn’t, Az is probably used to it (sobs), so it was just a factor for Cassian

4) Were well looked after, had access to education and information on the rite beyond word of mouth in the camps

My point overall is people tend to forget the Illyrian training camps are literally building child soldiers amongst terrible conditions. You are not fighting 100% or even like 50% of the blood rite, things like being well fed, physically able, and even just having someone who can watch your back while you sleep are so important so it is not surprising at all to me the girls made it while most Illyrians don’t, especially when theyre trained to belive it’s all about going in their to kill and be violent/a warrior (and this all doesn’t even touch on the weapons thing). It’s annoying and borderline sexist so many people complain about this, like just let these girls and their friendship bracelets be winners🤧

🔥Rhys’ trauma is so massively overlooked when people talk about his character/decisions. Not only was he essentially a sex slave for fifty years but Amarantha was also constantly psychologically torturing him all the while being the woman who literally tortured him and killed his friends years prior. To top it off, before Feyre there was literally no end in sight for him??? He couldn’t even hope to die because that would mean his magic couldn’t protect Velaris and his friends??? Even once he escapes the mountain he kind of just has to…move on? ) He doesn’t get any break or trauma therapy, he’s dumped right into it all and he literally doesn’t even tell anyone what happened?? The first time he brings it up to the IC in ACOWAR they’re all stunned to hear him say the words and then he breaks down to Feyre afterwards (literally probably the only person he talks to about what happened). It’s known to everyone including his people what he’s been through and it’s weaponized against him constantly. If he weren’t making bad choices, hurting people around him, and just overall struggling to be a good leader his character wouldn’t be realistic. This isn’t an excuse for every bad thing he’s done, but it’s a reality that most people in his situation wouldn’t do any better and couldn’t even handle being in his spot in the first place. There was a Rhys that existed before this series started and it makes much more sense to believe that guy was the decent male that shines through in some of his scenes with Feyre then to belive he’s always been cruel and evil and all his moments of kindness are just a bit (the evil!Rhys theories will never not be laughable to me, this man bawls in the crowded streets of his city just bc he loves his wife so much, he ain’t plotting evil in his spare time)

🔥The ship wars surrounding next book have gotten so over dramatic😭 most of these couples have barely even interacted on page. I get having preferences and seeing a vision for a pair, I do it too, but people fighting tooth and nail against these ships and swearing they won’t read next book if it’s not what they want are doing the most. Especially when these characters/ships actually…arent that different?? There’s so many similarities between Azriel/Lucien and even Gwyn/Elain, and the only character we know anything about thought/motivation wise is Azriel and even that is barely. I could see any of the pairings working perfectly well or also being written terribly, I think we should all care more about how next love story is written rather than who it’s with because the romance in the last few SJM books have been majorly slacking (Quinlar and Nessian are two of my least favorite ships she’s ever written like she must do better) and no matter who ends up together we probably will see some of the these ships (Elriel/Elucien at least) in a romantic sense before any sort of endgame is decided

[nikethestatue]

What do you think about the friendship between the Inner Circle? I liked them in ACOMAF but after Mor's coming out I really don't know what to think of them. Also with the way they behaved in SF towards Feyre, it has made me doubt that they care about her outside of her being Rhysand's mate.

I also didn't get the point of adding Tamlin in ACOFAS and then letting us know about how he was upset by the news of Feyre's pregnancy. It just feels unnecessary? Like why is he still there? What does he bring to the story?

I don't know what to think of them.

I think there is an automatic disbalance in their relationship, because Rhysand will always be their High Lord and they had to take an actual oath to serve him.

If Rhysand can come to Azriel and order him to stand down from Elain, for political reasons, then that's really not brotherhood? That's just a boss telling his underlink what to do, and not just around work, but also personal life. Furthermore, it also extends to their treatment of Feyre, which is totally shitty, if you think about it. Not only is she their supposed friend, she is also their High Lady, and their absolute loyalty should extend to her as well, yet, they all were perfectly fine hiding a massive secret from her and following Rhys's order.

Basically, you can't serve 2 masters equally and it was very apparent in ACOSF.

The whole Mor thing is general is just inexplicable and bizarre. Her treatment of Cassian and Azriel, her treatment of Azriel specifically, her inability to open up to these people who are supposed to be super close to her and whom she'd trust with her life, then Rhys's treatment of her in regards to Eris, her ongoing shitty treatment of Feyre, etc. At this point, I don't even understand what this character is and why she is the way she is, any of her motivations or alliances. She is very very odd to me. Is she going to turn bad? I hope so, because then at least something will make sense. She is supposed to be this warrior boss bitch, and she is nothing but a hysterical, moody, manipulative alcoholic with a chip on her shoulder.

I think the IC needs to regroup, have clear delineation of power and authority, stop trying to be a 'family' and be a work council for the Court, and just live their own lives separate from each other's influence. Rhys and Feyre are a family and are rulers, and that's what they should be. Cassian is responsible for the army, Azriel for intelligence--that's what they should do. Not sure what Amren and Mor do, especially Amren and why she serves as the Second. Also, she is Rhys's Second? Is the Feyre's? If Feyre wants to fire or demote her, can she? If we can't answer these questions immediately, that tells you everything about Feyre's power in that Court.

Also, they should ALL be in relationships by now, AND have friends outside of their circle. At 550 to 15,000 years of age, it's time to branch out.

[shallyne]

SJM Crackshipmonth: Modern AU

Rookie Mistake

Day twenty-eight! Ship: Apollion x Mother Archeron. From my theory that Apollion is Feyre's real, biological father. For @sjmcrackshipmonth

Words: 964

TW: mention and implication of substance abuse

Feyre gets curious and asks her father how he had met her mother.

Feyre quickly pulled out her phone to take a picture of her sheep Cottonball because she looked adorable and sent it to her boyfriend. Grabbing her apple juice, she sat down at the dining table and answered a few messages that she didn't have the time to answer yet. She took a sip of her apple juice as she watched the thirty tiktoks and memes that Cassian had sent her over night.

When Rhys finally answered, Feyre smiled down at her phone as she replied.

"You shouldn't text back so quickly, let the punk stew a bit." her father finally said. When Feyre looked up, he was smiling at her, nodding to her phone. She rolled her eyes at the nickname he had for Rhys and said "I'm not taking relationship advice from you, you fucked my mom."

Now it was his time to roll his eyes, "I already told you that it was just one time."

Feyre snorted. "You got her pregnant, too."

"You say that as if it's something bad. I am very happy about your existence." he said, a strand of his blond hair falling in his face as he leaned forward, putting his arms on the table and propping his chin in his hand.

They stared at each other for a moment, Feyre raising a brow in question as a grin spread on her father's pale face. Although it was her who broke the silence first "Dad?"

The amusement on his face faded and was replaced by curiosity as he replied, "Yes, Princess?"

"How did you even meet her?" Feyre asked. "I mean, it could have been anyone, why her?"

Her father chuckled at Feyre's incredulous tone, at the topic they already talked about a handful of times. "I was under the influence, honey. I wasn't known for making the best decisions when I was young."

"No substance in this world could be the cause for this bad of a decision." she murmured.

Her father only laughed as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Trust me, you're wrong." he said.

Feyre opened her mouth to answer but in that moment the front door opened and Mor yelled "I'm hungry!" she sauntered into the kitchen and looked at Apollion and Feyre. "Oh you're already here." She grabbed a few cookies from the kitchen counter and sat beside Feyre "What are we talking about?"

"My father is telling me how he met my mother." Feyre replied, snatching a cookie and munching on it as Mor straightened.

"Please tell!" she shouted excitedly. Her father sighed in defeat.

"Fine, but there is not much to tell," he said.

Mor shrugged "That's okay."

Feyre continued to chew on her cookie as her father looked out of the window, the sun illuminating his pale face.

"Don't you remember that day?" Mor asked.

"No, I remember that day very well, it was the day of my father's funeral." He told her and Mor choked on her cookie.

"I thought you met Feyre's mother at a party." she turned to Feyre, "You told me he met her at a party."

"He did."

"You went to a party on the day of your father's funeral?" she asked Apollion.

"No." he tsked, watching as Mor relaxed. "I threw a party."

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"You see, my father and I always had a bad relationship. I was in a piss poor mood and it was my last day before traveling back to Romania, so I decided to throw a party." he grinned at Feyre and Mor. "That kind of party my father would have hated."

"Did you take drugs?" Mor asked.

Feyre snorted as her father raised an eyebrow. "I'm supposed to be a role model for my daughter, I'm not answering that," he said. "What I can tell you is that an excessive amount of alcohol was flowing and I admit, I didn't hold back. I remember that Feyre's mother was watching me but it wasn't until a few hours later that she finally dared to approach me,"

"But wasn't she married at that time?" Mor interrupted, her cookie discarded as she intently listened to the story.

"That she was but she wasn't wearing a ring." Apollion chuckled faintly although there was no humor on his face. "I think." he shook his head and continued. "Well, she flirted with me but I wasn't interested and turned her down. Honestly, I thought that was the last of her but she approached again and I turned her down, again. I wasn't in the mood for any flings, I just wanted to forget the shitshow of a day but when she approached me the third time, I was…" he drifted off and looked at Feyre, lost in thought. "I was…drunk enough that I wasn't as opposed to her proposition. And then, well–" he waved his hand at Feyre.

"Then what?" Mor asked.

"Then Feyre was conceived." he replied nonchalantly.

Mor looked at Feyre "Ohh."

"I still don't get how you could choose my mother. Literally everyone else would have been a better choice." Feyre chimed in.

Mor snickered. "You look so disgusted."

"Maybe I wanted to punish myself." her father replied to her, stretching his legs with a groan. "Let's order lunch. Can you get the flyers from the living room, Mor?"

Mor gasped excitedly as she stood up "Yes, I'm starving!" she called as she hurried out.

Apollion smiled and waited until she was out of hearing range until he asked Feyre "Are you okay? I know you don't like talking about your mother."

Feyre shrugged and smiled back. "I'm fine." She told the truth. "I didn't know she was that desperate."

Her father laughed in response and ruffled her hair as Mor's steps closed in again.

Taglist: @timesconvert

[litnerdwrites]

@livinforthetea Yes! Exactly!

The whole ignoring her for a year unless it was to force her to social events she didn't want to be at, nor did others want her at thing seemed like it was a very extreme measure to take. And sending her to the how (or any other "rehab" facility (calling what happened at the HOW rehab is an insult to actual rehab imo)) is also a very extreme action, albeit on the opposite end of the spectrum, but still extreme.

Like, I would assume most people would, perhaps, reach out to her, offer to take her to the library (even just for like weekly sessions with the consoler there, or try like 101 other things to help her, before deciding to do either of those things. And if it was bad enough that something like rehab was needed, then it needed to be overseen by a professional

On the money thing, that I see being brought up, I'd argue that they owe Nesta money for what she endured on their behalf. Hosting the meeting with the human queens, despite the danger it presented (which wasn't helped by Rhys and Feyre, who's only job was to protect Nesta and Elain, to make sure nothing happened to them) was Nesta's way of trying to pay Feyre back for the hunting, atone in a way, as was suggested by Elain, and was what finally convinced Nesta to help to begin with.

So if we put that aside, that leaves everything Nesta did during the war, and her work as emissary. If she was their emissary for the HL meeting, she was entitled to regular pay from then to the end of the war, at minimum. There are some arguments to be made that she be payed after that as well, but that's for another day. She scried for them, saved Cassian's life (twice), and killed the King of Hybern (which deserves a reward in and of itself). Let's also consider that her choosing to train with Amren was conditional on the heads of her enemies being delivered to her. She killed the king, but that leaves the mortal queens, so if nobody is going to bring her their heads on a stick, then at the very least, she should be compensated monetarily for each queen, and given that they're queens, the amount is presumably a lot. For each one. We also know Rhysand pays his court on the higher ends of the salary range, at least, so Nesta's entitled to quite a bit of money.

I don't think there would've been many complaints if the IC had paid Nesta in either a lump sum or in instalments for her work, and then stopped. There's also the issue that Feyre is the one who wants Nesta to be a part of her life, and her circle. Nesta just wanted to be left alone, or, at the very least, be met on her own terms, given that she did mention how Elain could come see her at one of the taverns (while Rhys was eavesdropping). A compromise could be inviting her to a restaurant or cafe, with just the three of them.

The conversations Nesta has with Feyre, when it's just the two of them in the library, before the ravens attacked, was the most open they'd been in the books, and I firmly believe it's because there was no outside pressure or influence from the IC. Whereas, in the tavern, Rhys was standing outside, and Nesta knew it. Feyre wanted to make Nesta conform to their circle, because that was her idea of healing.

When you look at the intervention and 'healing plan' in acosf, as well as the information (or lack there of) about the time period between it and acofas, then it makes you wonder how necessary it even was. That's putting aside how terribly thought out and executed it was. They claimed to have tried, for a year, to help her, when they didn't. They tried to help themselves, and Feyre, and Elain and Cassian, by having Nesta conform, when, really they should've talked to Nesta, and found ways to help her become comfortable in her own skin, and reach whatever she thought healing looked like. Not Feyre, or Elain or Cassian or Rhys or anybody. If her version of healing was keeping in touch with her sisters but not anyone else from the IC, that's her prerogative, and should've been the focus.

Another reason the intervention/plot of acosf didn't work was because their words and actions, like being embarrassed by her, for example, indicated that they cared for Feyre, Cassian, and maybe Elain. Not her.

Feyre can feel how she feels, but throwing that in Nesta's face, and slut shaming her aren't helpful when it comes to healing. Having multiple sexual or romantic partners isn't an issue over all. The entire IC have made it clear that they either do, or did. However, Nesta is using both alcohol and sex as a self harm method. If she was SHing in other ways (like physically injuring herself), then throwing it her face would be shitty, and selfish, and indicate that you don't have her best interests at heart, so why is it any different here. Even if Feyre felt embarrassed, if Nesta's wellbeing was her priority in that matter, then she shouldn't have said it. That would just push her deeper into the dark hole she was already in. It wouldn't indicate that Feyre was a person that Nesta could feel safe or open with, especially with the headspace she was in.

There's so much about acosf that was messed up, and indicated that Nesta's wellbeing wasn't the priority, breaking her was. There were so many signs of ulterior motives, like the Dread trove B-plot, or the training, or Cassian's involvement. There's so much more to go into.

Will never understand the people who clain the Inner Circle should have just let Nesta keep spiraling instead of helping her. Because "it's mean to put her on house arrest." But you know. The first 14 months of leaving her to spiral worked. I'm sure another 14 would've been GREAT for her.

[emilia3546]

Wingbeats - Nessian

Written for Nessian Month using prompt: Babysitting Nyx

Babies are a handful anyway, let alone when they start to learn to use their wings, but at least Nesta is used to looking after Illyrian babies.

*****

Cassian tossed his head back, laughing loud enough to raise the dead, and Nesta glared at him,

"You could be helpful," she clipped, gasping when Nyx tumbled from her arms again, his little wings beating furiously as he fell, squealing in delight when Nesta scooped him out of the air,

"But you're doing so well," Cassian laughed, "Welcome to the world of Illyrian babies,"

"I'm familiar with the world of Illyrian babies," she looked pointedly across at him, "But I've changed my mind," Nesta bit back a curse when her nephew wriggled again, "I don't want one, another one," Cassian raised an eyebrow and she couldn't even keep a straight face, "Once this one is a bit more grown up, I don't think anyone could cope with him and however mischievous your child will be,"

"Oh no, you don't get to blame everything our future child does wrong on me,"

"Who else is she going to get it from?"

"I see to recall you being up for a good number of mischievous activities," Cassian raised an eyebrow, and Nesta flushed, grateful that Feyre wasn't around to hear that joke within Nyx's earshot, even if he wouldn't understand it just yet.

"Only under your bad influence," Nesta retorted, but conceded the point, he was right after all, but she turned her attention back to the wriggling infant in her arms, "Nyxie," she crooned, and he tilted his head back, leaning half out of her arms, "You want to play a game?" He might not have mastered words yet, but Cauldron did that child have an 'up to mischief' look, and he was giving it to her right now, "Go and get uncle Cassian," she set Nyx on the ground, giggling when he started to crawl for her mate, flapping his wings to move faster, occasionally managing to lift just off the ground. Cassian dropped to the floor, scooping Nyx up when he reached him, and flopped onto his back, letting Nyx squeal with joy, sitting up on his chest and grabbing at his hands when he reached for him. Cassian shifted underneath him, and Nyx laughed, more of a squeal than anything but a laugh nonetheless, Nesta sank into a chair, relieved to see Cassian allowing Nyx to 'fight' him and win, flopping onto the floor,

"Nesta! I've been defeated!"

"Such a mighty warrior," she crooned, half talking to each of them, but she did take Nyx from Cassian's lap, setting him down in her own, a children's book appearing beside her, "Story?" Nyx fixed her with those bright blue shining eyes, and gurgled,

"Story," he repeated, and Nesta immediately looked across to Cassian,

"Was that him?"

"Story," Nyx repeated, a little more insistent this time, and Nesta gaped at him, suddenly worrying how she was going to tell Feyre that she'd missed her son's first word,

"Has he done that before?"

"No. They're going to be upset they missed it," Cassian said, crossing to room to perch on the arm of Nesta's chair, "C'mon, let's read this little warrior a story,"

"Story," Nyx mumbled again, snuggling into Nesta's side when she started to read from the book, sighing when Nyx's eyes fluttered shut, not realizing the story was about his own parents, albeit a watered down version, but she kissed the top of his head as he slept, not daring to move for fear of waking him. Cassian pressed a kiss to her cheek,

"Now just imagine he's ours,"

"We're going to have a daughter,"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I just have a sort of feeling that we'll have a girl, maybe a boy later,"

"You want two?"

"I don't know, we'll see how one goes, I might swear off children forever, especially if the first one takes too much after me, they'll be far too much of a handful to consider a second one," Cassian snorted at that,

"You're not too much of a handful,"

"I would be if I was five,"

"Perhaps, but then you can just get me to take them for a day or two, or as many as you need, I'll be here anyway, you know you don't have to do it alone, we can just call in all the babysitting days Feyre and Rhys owe us if we need to escape." Nesta chuckled at that, rocking Nyx from side to side as he yawned and grasped at her hair in his sleep, "Besides," he laughed, "You really want them to take after me?" Nesta looked over in his direction,

"Our children are going to be a handful anyway," she admitted, "But I do think we're going to have a daughter first,"

"And she'll probably follow Nyx around as soon as she can, especially if he's only a bit older than her,"

"And she'll have you wrapped around her finger from the moment she's born,"

"She'll end up being a genius at sneaking out, or sneaking others in with you protecting her, all the boys will be too scared to go near her,"

"Then she'll just have to make the first move," Nesta laughed, "Or date females, slim pickings for decent males, she'll be lucky to find one,"

"Like you did?"

"More or less," Nesta shrugged, laughing at Cassian's false hurt,

"My own mate! I thought you loved me!"

"Being dramatic again are we, brother?"

"Rhysie!" Cassian practically tackled him when he entered the room, with Feyre right on his heels, darting to the side to avoid getting squashed,

"How was he?"

"Trying to fly away," Nesta chuckled, "He didn't get very far, but he was angel once we sat him down for a story, your story actually, and, uh,"

"Is he okay?" Nesta waved a hand at the panic in her sister's eyes,

"What? Oh he's fine, it's just, he spoke, I feel bad for being the ones to see it,"

"He spoke?" Rhys' head shot up at that and he twisted out of Cassian's hold to cross to where Nesta was still holding his sleeping son,

"What did he say?"

"I asked if he wanted a story, he usually just nods and stops wriggling, but this time he repeated it, 'story', and then again when I didn't immediately start reading, very demanding your son, you know," Feyre chuckled, lifting Nyx into her arms, and laughing when he grabbed onto her,

"He's a dreamer, Rhys."

[kingandfireheart]

What stories are left in ACOTAR: Elain edition

It is likely that the next installment of the ACOTAR series will cover Elain Archeron. Elain is probably the least developed character of the Inner Circle, and the only character (other than Amren and Lucien) whose perspective we haven’t seen yet. This post details her trauma, the issue of choice, Elain’s personality, the sweet innocent Elain image, and her various roles. 

Elain will definitely have to face her past trauma, which include:  

Graysen: grief, feeling of betrayal

The Cauldron and being kidnapped: trauma, feeling violated, becoming high fae

Her father: grief

Sisters: having a role in the Night Court, belonging there, being protected

Choices: 

Before I get into Elain’s role, I want to talk about a huge thing for Elain, which is choice. Rhysand spends ACOMAF and ACOWAR showing Feyre that she always has choices. Nesta struggles with this in ACOSF, and while Nesta does make choices to be more active - she kills the Kelpie, saves Feyre, saves her friends, she choses Cassian, and kills Briallyn. 

“I am not a thing to be controlled by you”, Nesta said icily. Everything in her life, from the moment she was born, had been controlled by other people. Things happened to her; anytime she tried to exert control, she’d been thwarted at every turn -- and she hated that even more than the King of Hybern.

Elain, who has suffered much of the same trauma as Nesta, will make her own choices in her book. Those choices will involve who she ends up with (I refuse to get into the Elucien/Elriel debacle here - I like both!), how she wields her power (as a seer, as high fae, as a Made person, as the Cauldron’s favorite, as a political pawn), and what she makes of the situations that happened to her. 

Elain has already shown that she can make good on a bad situation in ACOWAR, I’m excited to see how she keeps that up in her book: 

“This could end very badly, Elain.” // She brushed her thumb over the iron-and-diamond engagement ring. “It’s already ended badly. Now it’s just a matter of deciding how we meet the consequences.” (ACOWAR)

“I know your circumstances for coming here were awful, Nesta, but it doesn’t mean you need to be so miserable about it.” (ACOSF)

Sweet Innocent Elain: 

Elain’s persona in the Inner Circle is a sweet and innocent girl. She loves gardening and cooking. She is kind and cares about things like manners and propriety. Here are a few quotes that show that: 

Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light. (ACOWAR)

“You’re still lovely,” Mor said a bit gently. Elain offered a half smile. “I suppose that war makes wanting things like that unimportant.”Mor was quiet for a heartbeat. “Perhaps. But you should not let war steal it from you regardless.” (ACOWAR)

“What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.” (ACOWAR)

“I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she’d disappoint you all.” “With time and safety, perhaps we’ll see a different side of her emerge.”(ACOSF Bonus Chapter)  

We know that there is a lot more to Elain than anyone gives her credit for - Cassian, Amren, Rhys, and even Nesta point this out on different occasions in ACOSF: 

Cassian: “Nesta was wrong to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.”

Amren: “Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”

Rhys: “I also think we haven’t seen all she has to offer. “Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way” “And torn up by thorns”

Nesta: “Elain stiffened, but refused to balk from whatever she beheld in Nesta’s gaze. “You think I’m to blame for his death? Challenge laced each word. Challenge - from Elain of all people. 

We also see Elain starting to take back her power in ACOSF when she steps up to look for the Dread Trove

“You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.”

“You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“I am not a child to be fought over”

“I went into the Cauldron too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of it what my trauma did to you.”

Elain’s Roles: 

Sister: Elain has long been a mediator between Nesta and Feyre. She is the calmness that complements each of their fire, she is the one they each seek to protect. (I’m thinking of SJM’s fire/ice/stone metaphor for Manon, Asterin, and Sorrel). However, she is able to fight for what she wants with each of them, and use her skills to her advantage. Elain shows Feyre her remorse for the years when they are poor, which is why Elain and Nesta step up to help with the Mortal Queens.

 “Feyre gave and gave—for years. Let us now help her. Help … others.” (ACOMAF)

“And as for Feyre’s hunting during those years, it was not Nesta’s neglect alone that is to blame. We were scared, and had received no training, and everything had been taken, and we failed her. Both of us.” (ACOMAF)

Sweet, innocent Elain who vomited from the violence on the battlefields, who recoiled from Cassian’s weapons, does show that she is willing to fight for her sisters. 

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

Seer: Elain seemed to gain clarity once she realized what she was seeing. She says she can control her Seer talk, and actually uses this power to help Feyre find the Suriel in ACOWAR, and offers to do the same with the Dread Trove.  It isn’t clear if Elain’s refusal to acknowledge her powers stems from fear, lack of acceptance, or just the fact that she needed to be normal before she can embrace her new life. 

“Are you asking me that as her sister, or as a seer?” (ACOFAS)

“Then I will find it. I might require some time to ... reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” (ACOSF)

Made and Cauldron’s Favorite: Just like Nesta and Feyre, Elain is Made. All of the Like Calls to Like logic that applies to Feyre in ACOMAF with the Cauldron and the Book of Breathings and Nesta in ACOSF with the Dread Trove applies to Elain. Now that Nesta’s power is limited,  Elain may have to step up and use her power to help find the fourth Dread Trove item or with a new Cauldron-related task. The big distinguishing factor here is that the Cauldron likes Elain. 

The Cauldron purred in Elain’s presence as the King of Hybern slumped to his knees, clawing at the knife jutting through his throat. Elain backed away a step.

The Cauldron seemed to realize what she’d done, too, as his head thumped onto the mossy ground. That Elain … Elain had defended this thief. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something … It would not harm Elain, even in its hunt to reclaim what had been taken.

“You were Made by the Cauldron. You may track other objects Made by it as well... and because you are Made by it, you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” 

Lucien’s Mate: Elain hasn’t been raised with the mating bond, she doesn’t care for it in ACOWAR when she tries to win Graysen back, but it is possible that after almost two years in the Night Court, and watching both of her sisters accept their bonds, that she may want to acknowledge it, or at least understand it. Being Lucien’s Mate also makes Elain a political pawn. Her presence in the Night Court ensures Lucien’s loyalty, and given that Lucient has ties to 3 of the seven courts and the human lands. Elain could potentially wield the power of those alliances (or destroy them based on her relationship with Lucien). 

“You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?”// “It means nothing,” Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”// “You belong to him.”//“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”(ACOWAR)

“You couldn’t say a single word to him? A pleasant greeting?//“He brought you a present”// “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”// “No. He is a good male. He cares for you.”// “He doesn’t know me.” //“You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.”//“I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male” (ACOFAS)

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen. 

Member of the Inner Circle: Elain insists that she is a member of the Night Court in ACOSF, and offers her help in tracking down the Dread Trove. . She is already an active member at Inner Circle dinners (seen in ACOFAS and ACOSF), and those bonds could continue to grow. 

“And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared she was a part of this court -- and would do whatever was needed. ... He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court... It sucked the life from her.”

Nuala and Cerrdiwen’s Friend: Elain has befriended the two half-wraiths who spy for both Azriel and Rhys. Give Elain’s powers for persuasion (”my sister Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles”)  and observation (”Nesta never spoke if afterward, I just observed”// “Elain’s brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.” ), she could make an interesting spy or courtier.

“They’d spent more time with Elain than even I had. They understood her moods, what she sometimes needed.” (ACOFAS)

Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends. (ACOSF)

[rhysismydaddy]

Feysand Pregnancy Fluff

From an ask! Heavily influenced by the fact that I am ~super~ on my period right now and in a mood myself lol. In Feyre’s POV. 

I’m working on cleaning out my box rn and then will be starting After Midnight :)

____________________________________________________________

Am I aware that I’m acting like a psycho? Yes. 

Does it change my mood, and thereby psycho tendencies? No. 

“I just think it’s funny, honestly.” That’s a lie. I didn’t find it funny at all. 

Rhysand sighs, because after four years of marriage, he knows he’s in pretty deep shit. 

“You smiled. Someone compared your wife to a beached whale, and you smiled.”

He’ll either stick to his story or admit that he’s a horrible human being. 

He chooses the first option, unfortunately. “Feyre, darling, I didn’t smile.”

“Well then you should be a goddamn ventriloquist or something, because I could’ve sworn I heard you chuckle, too.”

Like the complete asshole he is, his lips twitch. “That wasn’t me.”

“You are such a bad liar, Rhysand De’Luca.”

He turns into the driveway of our house in the suburbs and rolls his eyes. “It must be from all these years living with you. I used to be a better one.”

“So you admit you’re lying!” I exclaim, half in victory, half in anger as I waddle from the car. 

I’m well aware that our neighbors, the Havenshims or something, are staring at our little exchange with raised brows, but I still call my husband a filthy liar. And a horrible person. And a snake in the grass.

Where I even learned that last phrase, I have no idea. 

Rhysand bites his lip, but I see the edge of a smile form anyway, and it makes the temper spike even worse. The fact that he shrugs to our neighbors doesn’t help, either. 

Stomping to the front door, I unlock it, walk inside, and close it in his face. I don’t bother locking it though, since he learned a month ago to keep a set of keys on him. 

I toss my shoes off, barely resisting the temptation to turn around and throw one at his head, and walk up the stairs. “In case you don’t remember, it’s your fault I look like a beached whale anyway. And you had the utter audacity to laugh!”

Once I’m up the stairs, I take a few moments to catch my breath, gritting my teeth in annoyance. 

Did you know male babies burn more calories than female babies? Guess which one I’m carrying. 

Or should I say ones. 

Because my stupid, lying husband somehow managed to knock me up with twins on our first go. Male twins. 

I think I hate him. 

“Pretty sure it took the both of us, although I did probably put in more effort.”

Nope. I know it. 

“I want a divorce,” I tell him as I attempt to slide the side of my dress zipper down. Of course it gets stuck on my ginormous stomach, which doesn’t do much for the mood I’m in. 

Before I can grab a knife and just cut it off, Rhys’s hands replace mine and tug, and I watch in the mirror as he pushes the fabric off my shoulders. 

Leaving me rotund and naked before him in the mirror. 

And just like that, I start to cry. “You know, I’m tried my best to look good tonight, okay? I did my hair, even though it’s dry and hasn’t been cut in three months, and I put on makeup, even though I was sweating so much it took an hour.”

Said makeup is being destroyed by the sheer amount of tears streaming down my face, but who cares. I’m a whale anyway. 

“You look beautiful. You always do.”

That just makes me cry harder for some reason. 

“And I didn’t laugh at what Cassian said,” he informs me, wisely refraining from repeating it himself. “I laughed at how hard Nesta punched him when he did.”

I sniffle. “Oh.”

Gentle hands on my shoulders turn me around, and then he tsks and wiped the tears on my cheeks away with his thumb. “You’re gorgeous. Makeup or no. Nine months pregnant or no.”

Pushing my head against his chest, I’m glad he wears so much black, because my mascara’s probably running everywhere. “Okay.”

“We’re only five days away now,” he tells me, and I can hear the smile in his voice. 

I’m about to smile, too when another horrible thought occurs. 

“Oh, gods. I only have five days until I have to push two bowling balls out of my lady parts,” I wail, and he sighs against the top of my head. 

I almost fall when his chest suddenly disappears, but he comes back quickly, wrapping my fluffiest robe around me and leading me to the bed. I’m about to protest when he just holds up a hand. 

Still crying, I ease onto the bed. It takes about eight pillows--one of which belongs to my husband--but I finally get comfortable. 

Giving up on being sanitary tonight, I sniffle and wipe my nose on the collar of my robe. Rhys is up and about, pulling off his pants and shirt to reveal the stupidly perfect body underneath. 

He should be fat, too. 

He should be fat and disgusting and have people make fun of him. 

Life is so unfair, I think as he pulls on an old college shirt and goes to the bathroom for something. 

When he comes back, sits on the bed, and murmurs, “Close your eyes,” I have to amend my statement. Maybe it’s not so bad. 

Because even if I am nine months pregnant and an emotional wreck, I have a husband who takes off my makeup for me at night. 

He gently wipes the foundation and lipstick and mascara away, then unclips the earrings I forgot I was wearing. I peer up at him, and he just looks back at me, beautiful eyes full of patience and love. 

“I don’t know if I can do this, Rhys,” I whisper, mentally building a dam to hold the tears back. 

“Oh, Feyre, darling.” 

He crawls over me somehow and lays on my other side, careful not to disturb my mountain of pillows as he leans on an arm to hover over me. 

His lips softly meet my cheek, then my forehead, then each eyelid, before landing briefly on my mouth. 

“You may not know, but I do. You’re the strongest person I know. You’ll probably curse me to hell the whole time, but you can do it.” 

“Probably,” I laugh. 

He puts a hand on my bulging stomach, smiling when one of the babies kicks against his palm. “Five days until we get to meet them. What do you think they’re going to be like?”

“Loud. Smelly.” 

Rhys rolls his eyes and settles down further in the bed, not even mentioning his lack of pillow. “I think one’s going to be really athletic and tall. You’ll want him to play something safe like baseball, but he’ll choose hockey. And he’ll have your blue eyes and blonde hair and charming personality, so we’ll have to give him the birds and bees talk when he’s four.”

I smile at the ceiling. “And the other?”

“He’ll be smart like you. Probably will come out knowing how to read. And he’ll definitely get along with Azriel and Elain, so we’ll have to fight for his attention.” He yawns, hand going still on top of my belly. “But it’ll be worth it, because he’ll cure cancer or something, and we’ll be in the paper and they’ll praise us for creating such a stand up guy.”

“As long as the whole article’s about us,” I reason, putting my hand on top of his and interlinking our fingers. 

“Of course.”

Turning my face to his, I press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you so much. Even if I’m crazy. Even if I curse you to hell when I finally have your babies.”

His violet eyes open, and he kisses me softly. “I know. I love you, too. I can’t wait.”

“Me either,” I whisper back, eyes drifting close as I fall asleep, hand still atop my stomach, intertwined with his. 

____________________________________________________________

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter One//

(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (Chapter six) (Chapter seven) (Chapter eight) (Chapter nine) (Chapter ten)

I knew it was bound to happen eventually. Surrounded by the new walls in this estate, after growing so familiar with Rhys’s old room—my old room, at the House of Wind; a part of me knew the new surroundings might trigger the nightmares to return. Even if over a decade had passed, a part of me was, and would probably always be haunted by the events that had taken place Under the Mountain. At first, I dreamt of stabbing myself in the heart, as I had the young male and female fae. Over the years the nightmares evolved, sometimes as gory and painful as it had been to actually live through it, and other times an array of images would pass through my mind in a panic—as if I were living through it all at once in a matter of seconds. Images of blood, Amarantha, the knife in my blood-soaked hands—of Rhys. Of Rhys’s pained face as he desperately tried to get to me during Amarantha’s attack, wielding a knife of his own. Tonight, in particular, those flashing images conjured up old and ancient feelings of panic in me that I had not experienced since I was newly Made; since my time in the Spring Court. Since before I learned Rhys was my mate; before I overcame that overwhelming despair that had threatened to drown me. The nightmares hadn’t stirred those emotions in over a decade, but tonight was different. 

I jolted awake in a cold sweat, my skin clammy and stomach roiling at the particularly violent images of my blood-soaked hands and Rhys’s panicked and desperate face still lingering as I tried to discern reality from dream. I silently thanked the Cauldron that Rhys wasn’t with me as I made a mad dash for the bathing room attached to our suite. I barely made it to the toilet as I vomited up the dinner, and probably the entirety of my stomach contents from the day before, I had with Mor. My eyes burned as the wave intensified, reminding me of those days in the Spring Court, a couple of sobs escaping between my heaves. 

Breathe

You’re free. We’re free. And safe

Just breathe

As the wave of nausea finally began to pass, and the heaving stopped, I took a few deep breaths as Rhys guided me through our bond. Nerves settled, I flushed the toilet and stood slowly. Once I was confident I wouldn’t sway on my feet, I padded over to the sink, rinsing my mouth out thoroughly. Sighing deeply once again, I smiled softly as I felt those familiar dark-shadowed talons caress my mental shields before lowering them and allowing Rhys in. 

Hello Feyre darling

My smile widened. I’m alright, just another bad dream

Must have been a bad one. Your nightmares haven’t caused you to puke your guts up in years. 

It’s because I’m alone in this big house without you. 

I felt his dark laugh reverberate through the bond. I knew I couldn’t blame him for performing his duties as the High Lord of the Night Court, particularly in matters of the Illyrian sort. He, Cassian, and Azriel were duty-bound to attend and oversee the Blood Rite of their novice-warriors. As High Lord, commander of armies, and spymaster, the trio of Illyrians had taken it upon themselves to attend the ceremonies before would-be warriors were sent off to fend for themselves and survive in the mountains. Previously, they had only attended the ceremonies at the beginning and end of the blood rite on the first and last day, but this year they decided to stay the week to welcome, congratulate, and perform all ceremonial rights for the survivors and new Illyrian warriors. 

Though it had only been three days since they left, it was the longest Rhys and I had been apart since before the war with Hybern. The first couple of years after the war had been a hard period of adjustment, and while there were still days where I only saw Rhys first thing in the morning and not again until right before bed, over the last decade we had managed to make more time for each other. Especially after our first Winter Solstice together, after coming to the decision that we would try and conceive the firstborn the bone-carver had once shown me, we always found time to spend together—just the two of us. Perhaps that was the real reason why my despairing nightmares had returned. Perhaps it was simply because I missed him, his warmth as we lay entangled in our sheets—our new sheets in this estate I built for us, our family. 

The estate Rhys had given me—us, really, had taken a little longer to remodel than I had originally hoped. He had told me to build a painting studio for myself, a room for each member of our inner circle, including my sisters...including the would-be son we had yet to conceive. I worked on the nursery first; once I had officially shifted all my focus on the estate-building project, it was all I could think about. The art studio I opened in the Rainbow, with Ressina, was beginning to flourish and after countless days of watching fae children heal from their trauma the war caused, I wanted nothing more than to prepare the nursery for my future child—as a form of my own healing process.

But as time passed, and my cycles returned at their regular intervals, I shifted my focus from the nursery to the rest of our estate. As an attempt to distract myself from it, I made sure to create the perfect space for every member of our inner circle. Everyone had their own living quarters, allowing them to freely stay or leave at their leisure. Cassian and Azriel were delighted to have their own space; though the former was more vocal about it, I knew Az was glad to have a place of solace—especially since space was so limited at our townhouse. The two Illyrians were especially pleased with the training grounds in the back of the estate, past the gardens. Rhys had the most influence over that aspect of the estate, since the trio used the space so frequently.

Mor was especially ecstatic to have a new room—an upgrade she called it, with an abundance of closet space which allowed her to show off her multiple pieces of fashion from the various courts of Prythian to her heart's content. Even Amren was pleased with not only her luxurious suite; more luxurious than mine and Rhys’s that allowed her to display the fine jewelry and baubles she collected over the years, but also with the two-story library lined with stacks of books that even I couldn’t resist browsing. 

Elain had been my biggest help in planning our estate, and when I asked what she wanted, she simply—and shyly, requested a garden. A now wide and expansive garden, with a vast greenhouse, which she tended to with the groundskeeper every day. Her living quarters were combined with Nesta’s, who never admittedly claimed to live in our estate, but over the years settled and even sold the small apartment she once resided in on the other side of the Sidra. I couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with Cassian’s growing influence, but I knew it was mostly due to Elain and Amren. I was only happy to see her on a nearly day-to-day basis. 

I had indeed built the house of my dreams—our dreams, filled with family, staff and sentries with their own living quarters, and more than an adequate amount of space for us all. After three years of careful planning and attending to every last detail, along with balancing my shared duties as High Lady; our estate was now a masterpiece with an empty nursery. I pushed away from the thought, reminding myself that fae children—fae babies, were rare. That night on the Winter Solstice when we decided we were ready for them, Rhys had warned me it could take years. At the time, I hadn’t cared, but as the years passed I often wondered if I would ever see the beautiful face of the son the bone-carver had shown me. 

I tried not to lose faith, in the Mother, the cauldron, all of it. Every time the disappointment showed in my face when my excruciating cycle would return, Rhys knew and reassured me that it would happen for us. I tried not to think about it with my mental shields down, or shout it down the bond, which I was more efficient at building every year. Not that I actively liked to block Rhys out, I rather enjoyed communicating through our bond, depended on it—especially on a night like this.

I’d rather not worry about you getting sick every night this week. I’ll come home tomorrow

You don’t need to do that, I’m really fine. Maybe it was that big dinner I had.

Funny, I almost believed you for a second Feyre, darling

I sighed audibly, sure that he knew I did. It was just an intense nightmare. They still come and go, you know they do

I do—but still-

Don’t be such a mother hen. I snapped. It was a bad dream and a bad reaction. I’ll be fine in the morning.

Silence followed for longer than I liked, and I felt some remorse for snapping at him. Knowing my feelings, my experience, with overprotective behavior had him reigning it in as much as possible. It was still there from time to time, but I knew my mate. Knew when he was overprotective, it meant he couldn’t help himself but would in no way force me to his will. Still, my feelings of guilt remained. It was true that it had been years since a nightmare caused this reaction, and had the roles been reversed, I would want to be at his side. 

I was about to apologize before he sent another warm message down the bond; As you wish, High Lady

I rolled my eyes. That wasn’t exactly an order, you know.

Oh I know, but I also know just how much you love ordering me around

I smiled as I settled in our bed, imagining his cocky grin adorning his handsome face, violet eyes glimmering with mischief. I sighed again, if that were the case, I would actually order you back home.

I still can

No, no I’m alright. I feel better already. Plus you need to be there. Go enjoy your Illyrian rituals and ceremonies and whatnot.

As you wish, High Lady

I snorted before sending him a vulgar gesture down the bond and raising my mental shield of adamant as I closed my eyes, sleep once again starting to claim my body; the timbre of his dark laughter resounding softly in the shadows around me, causing my stomach to flutter delicately as the sound lingered and lulled me into a new sleep.

[bookofmirth]

what do you think will be the roles of the actor secondary characters for this new "spin-off"? specifically vassa, eris (i would be happy if all of autumn court self-combusted from their firedicks), tamlin, etc... i thought that vassa and lucien seemed to have a fun broship happening and could see some fun moments of her trying to help him talk to elain. i got the vibe they could be like mor and cass 2.0 lol. anyway what is basically your wishlist for the secondary characters?

Hi NonNon,

First off:

i would be happy if all of autumn court self-combusted from their firedicks

Props on the imagery and making me lol (Also sorry for taking a couple days to respond, I didn’t want to answer while under the influence, and also the fanfic writing fever clearly took me these last few days.)

I don’t know if we will see much of Tamlin anymore. I don’t think he has much of a purpose anymore in the broader story. Moving forward, I assume he is slowly, but surely, going to learn some emotional intelligence and be able to become a better person (based off a few of his actions in acowar), but that’s not necessarily going to be a part of Feyre’s life, or anyone else’s of the “main” characters. Which I guess I would consider Feyre, Rhys, Nesta, Elain, Cassian, Mor, Amren, and Az. Lucien is… hanging in there.

I think it’d be great if Lucien and Vassa could have a broship (since I ship him with Elain, this doesn’t need to be a love-quadrangle, thanks). And omg him having someone he can rely on and tell his secrets too who will give him crap but be there to support him - I think he and Feyre could be that, but they have some baggage, currently.

Eris probably will play a role moving forward, since he is such a part of Mor’s history, and there was the whole thing with the CoN and Cassian and Az being protective. And maybe that means we will end up learning more about Lucien. Yeah, now that I think about it, Eris will probably be around more, just because he hinted at Mor and Lucien not knowing the whole story about his family. Which. Ok, whatever. It’s not that I’m not interested in a redemption arc for “bad guys”. I just literally don’t care about him. On a scale of 1-10, I am “meh”.

Let’s see, other secondary characters would be Viviane and Kallias, which I super need more of them, especially Viviane, because Mor, much like Lucien, really needs a good friend who she can be open with. And she does have that with Feyre, but Viviane is such a snappy little… winter… sass-master. (???)

Ok I’m going to be honest here and say that when I made my initial list of main characters, I totally left Amren out. She gets left behind a lot, maybe because the ships aren’t such a thing with her? The reason I even thought of her was because of the possibility of an amazing broship with her and Nesta. But I would like to see more from her, specifically her getting used to being a High Fae and not as immortal anymore.

This might be weird but this is how I was thinking of the spin-offs - certain characters have connections with each other, more so than others, so I was thinking Cassian/Nesta/Amren/Mor/Eris/Az as being central in one spin-off, then maybe Lucien/Vassa/Elain/Azriel in another? Not necessarily in ship ways, just because of friendships or plot things that are already going on. (I hope that makes sense.) I still don’t really care about Miryam/Drakon. *shrug*

Also, I feel like Viviane and Kallias and Viviane’s sister have to make an appearance, but I’m not sure if they would be more tied to a storyline with Mor? Or Feysand? Based on the novella description, they could definitely play a role in the next one?

[modernbookfae]

Sisterly Bond

This part of the chapter popped into my mind and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to add more of the frayed connection that Nesta has with Feyre. This chapter is about the huntress, her friend and sisters on the hunt...for a dress! And what is Nesta going to confess to Feyre about Cassian??? 

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

“What do you mean you don’t have a dress?!” Mor leapt off the couch in Nesta and Elain’s apartment. 

“I have dresses,” Nesta disagreed. 

“Summer dresses don’t count,” Feyre scrolled through her phone without looking up. 

“There is no way you are turning up in a summer dress,” Mor began pacing back and forth while Nesta and Elain sat watching her from their own seats in the living room.

“As if I would show up to a formal event in a casual dress,” Nesta rolled her eyes. At this rate she might do that if only to see Mor spontaneously combust at the sight.

“Where are we going to find a dress in such a short amount of time? We only have a week left and the holiday shoppers have probably scooped up all the best dresses!” Mor stopped her pacing and turned around to face Nesta. “Do not worry though. If it takes all week for us to find you a dress then I will not rest until we find the perfect one for you!”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Elain said with a gentle smile. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find a dress if you’re helping with the search.”

“We can buy a simple one in the mall,” Nesta said taking a sip of tea. Her posture at ease and similar to that of a queen addressing a meager issue that was not of major importance compared to other things on her mind. She was more worried about the event itself rather than the dress. There was bound to be many people there most of whom were large business figures and could be a potential doorway into Nesta’s career path. A strategy was needed to face them and gain some sort of good mark on their memory once she graduated in the spring. It was hard to imagine she had one more semester left of school.

“That won’t do,” Mor mumbled. “You can’t show up wearing a dress from the prom section of an outlet store.”

Nesta opened her mouth to say something about Mor’s comment when Feyre stood up.

“I just found this boutique online that is open today,” Feyre said pocketing her phone. “We should head over there and see what we can find Nesta.”

“Right now?” Nesta turned incredulously toward her youngest sister.

“Yes! Let’s go now! The sooner the better!” Mor tugged both Elain and Nesta off the couch with surprising strength. It was easy to forget that the blonde beauty had much more than looks going for her. She was trained to fight since her teen years after being brought to her cousin’s home.

“I’m coming with you?” Elain asked excitedly. 

“Let’s make this a girl’s day,” Feyre said with a smile.

“It was already a girl’s day,” Nesta said being pulled to the door by Mor. 

“And now it’s a shopping day so let’s go and find you a dress,” Mor stopped by the door as everyone gathered their purses, coats and shoes. 

They locked the apartment and Mor drove them uptown to a shopping area in the northeastern part of the city. Feyre led the entourage to a white stone building with a sign in gold letters reading Solis Boutique. Once inside a dark-skinned man wearing a pressed white shirt with golden buttons greeted them. 

“Welcome to my store young ladies,” the man walked toward them. “My name is Helion. Is there anything I can help you find today?”

“My sister needs a dress for a formal event next week and we were hoping you’re shop may have what we’re looking for,” Feyre answered.

“And your budget?” Helion asked looking at Nesta.

“The cheapest you are selling,” Nesta said, but Mor elbowed her lightly in the stomach.

“Let us look around and we will get back to you once we have found a dress to her liking,” Mor said.

Helion nodded and directed the women to the area holding dresses that would be their best options for the event.

All four girls scoured the dresses with mixed levels of excitement. Mor was happily going through the racks and pulling dress after dress off to be taken to a changing room. Elain was intrigued by the dresses with chiffon, but knew Nesta wouldn’t prefer that style. Instead Elain walked to the area where Feyre was currently sifting through and each pulled a dress for their sister to try on. Nesta on the other hand hadn’t even found one yet that she wanted to take back with her to change. 

“Just try on the ones we already put back in a room and see if you like any of them,” Feyre said when she noticed Nesta kept eyeing the door as if plotting to escape. 

“Fine, but don’t get your hopes up,” Nesta walked to the changing room and startled by the amount of fabric that greeted her.

“How many dresses did you put in here?” Nesta asked and looked pointedly at Mor. She saw Mor walk back here twice with an armful of dresses earlier.

“It doesn’t matter how many so long you find at least one that works with you,” Mor said innocently. 

Nesta groaned and shut the wooden changing room door. She looked over the dresses and decidedly took out ones she already knew she wouldn’t like. All the short dresses were hung to the discard rack along with bright colors ranging such as pink.

That only left seven dresses to try on. After slipping in and out of each one Nesta was exhausted and firmly was against these dresses. They either didn’t look good on her frame or she didn’t feel comfortable wearing them. 

“Nesta is everything okay in there?” Elain asked from the other side of the door.

“None of these dresses are going to work out,” Nesta replied. 

“You already tried them on?” Feyre questioned.

“Why didn’t you let us see them first?” Mor’s disappointed tone made Nesta almost regret not showing them, but then again she didn’t feel the urge to waltz around in a dress that didn’t sit right with her.

“Hang on second,” Nesta brought out an armful of dresses and handed them to Mor. “Can you put those back considering you’re the one that grabbed them all?”

“Sure and I’ll keep looking for a dress that you might like better than these ones.”

“Not pink! There were way too many pink dresses to begin with and I’m don’t want a dress that will make me look like a cupcake.”

“Afraid Cassian may take a bite of you?” Feyre asked with a teasing smile.

“Don’t even go there,” Nesta hefted another armful of dresses which Feyre took from her hands. “Cassian doesn’t need another reason to give me a hard time.”

“You know,” Feyre began. “Cassian means well and wants to be your friend.” And more if only you could see it Nesta. “Just give him a chance to show you that he cares and he’s not some brute like you used to call him.”

Nesta was silent. “I think we are friends, but at times…I don’t know it feels weird.”

“What do you mean?” Elain asked.

Nesta shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” she mumbled.

“Well? What kind of conversation are we having?” Feyre hoped that Nesta would open up and they could finally begin to connect on a deeper level. Sure the three sisters met up for weekly dinners on occasion, but it had been years since Nesta opened up to any of them with personal problems that had been plaguing. Hell Feyre still wondered about the Tomas situation, but Nesta refused to budge on giving any information.

“Sometimes I wonder if Cassian actually likes me,” Nesta admitted.

“Of course he likes you!” Elain exclaimed then immediately dropped down to a whisper. “Sorry, but the way he acts doesn’t make it seem otherwise. He adopted Blaze, helps you with boxing, you go on doggy play dates together and he invited you to this party. I think it’s safe to say he is your friend.”

“I mean he might like me, as in- Oh never mind!” Nesta started putting away dresses with force. “I’m just seeing way too much into things not there.”

Elain looked worriedly at her older sister, but Feyre motioned to her, signaling that Feyre would handle it. Elain nodded and went to help Mor put away the rest of the dresses before looking for a different dress.

Feyre paused until she and Nesta were alone before approaching her sister.

“Nesta wait,” Feyre placed a hand on Nesta’s shoulder that was tense and frozen at Feyre’s touch. “Do you think Cassian loves you?”

Nesta’s eyes darted to her sister and back to the glittering fabric clenched in her fists. She said nothing for a stretch of time as she retreated back behind her inner walls.

“You can trust me,” Feyre said hoping that her sister would open up.

After a few seconds Nesta hefted a sigh. “There are moments when I think he does,” Nest said softly not wanting to be overheard by anyone else. “Cassian somehow knows what to say and do to make me feel-” Nesta stopped herself.

“Do you love him?” Feyre asked.

Nesta whipped her head to look at her sister. She never thought the sentiment of love would be affiliated with herself. Sure Nesta loved her sisters in different ways, but the idea of Nesta loving someone else was hard to comprehend. Nesta didn’t believe she could ever love someone to that degree. Not after all the males in her life had a bad influence on the idea. Her father didn’t help support and raise them while Tomas sullied the thought of a man ever trying to touch her again.

All those thoughts crashed into Nesta’s walls and her emotions began to leak through the cracks. “I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing,” Nesta's hollow voice echoed with regret. “I wish that this…whatever this is between me and Cassian didn't follow me every single day.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lately I’ve been thinking about all these little details and wondering if Cassian does love me. Sometimes wondering what he’s doing at a random moment while I’m at work or walking home from class. And then I wish I could be there with him.” Nesta added quietly.

“You do love him.” Feyre’s shocked tone was barely concealed as she watched her older sister put away the dress in her hands. “Nesta you should tell Cassian your feelings.”

“But I don’t know if I can,” Nesta ran a hand through her hair in a frustrated motion. “Besides we both know that girls flock to him and that if it came down to it he would pick someone that would be better suited for him.”

“And you think you’re not?” Feyre had seen the connection that could easily form between Nesta and Cassian. Sure they argued and they were at each other’s throats in the beginning, but now there was this strong bond between them. If only Nesta could see that.

“You and I both know that Cassian is funny and strong and too kind for his own good. He would be happier with someone who could match him.” Nesta looked at Feyre daring her sister to contradict the statement.

“From what I see you match him better than anyone else,” Feyre said. “Each day you challenge him and keep him on his toes. You don’t let his cocky attitude get in the way of seeing what he needs whether that be a putting him in his place or offering support.”

“He deserves better,” Nesta spoke firmly causing Feyre to look at her in understanding. Feyre too had thought she didn't deserve Rhys, but then she realized something that she felt the need to tell Nesta now.

“You’re right,” Feyre admitted and Nesta slightly winced at the words as they struck her like a barb. “But that’s the thing. You make him happier and you’ve given him so much more than anyone else has-”

“No,” Nesta interrupted. “He’s the one that has given me so much. Cassian has trained me, adopted Blaze and he still sticks around despite an attitude that I know has pushed others away.”

“Nesta you’ve defended him and have made an impact in his life too,” Feyre added. If only you could hear how he talks about you. How he obviously loves you.

“That is what any decent person would do,” Nesta countered.

“Yet you were the first person to call out the problem with his friends. Nesta you and Cassian deserve better, but you both make each other better. You’re perfect together.”

“I don’t know if I can ever give Cassian the love he needs though. Feyre if you knew what Tomas did-”

“Look what Elain and I found!” Mor said holding up a grey silk dress with intricate lace and beading.

Nesta glanced at Feyre and quickly approached Mor and Elain who were excitedly explaining how they thought this dress was lovely. Feyre watched her oldest sister closely as she talked with Mor and began walking back to the changing room. What was Nesta going to say before Mor called out to them? What did Tomas do that rattled Nesta so much that she felt that love was an incapable thing she could provide?

“Feyre are you coming?” Elain asked causing Nesta to glance back. Her slate eyes empty of the feelings that was there only moments ago, but Feyre could see that Nesta had a faint pleading gaze. For now Feyre would let this conversation go, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it. Though she feared that her original thoughts of Tomas and Nesta’s breakup were true. What if Tomas hurt her like his father did to his own wife? Or stars forbid something worse.

“I’m right behind you,” Feyre said looking straight at Nesta. They made their way to the changing room where Nesta walked while the others waited.

“Be sure to let us see it on you Nesta,” Mor said who earned a few mumbled words in response.

After a bit of shuffling came from inside the changing area before the door opened and Nesta walked out wearing a dress that made her look like a hardened queen ready for battle. It was perfect.

“Nesta it’s beautiful! You’re beautiful – I mean you’re always beautiful, but this is something else all together,” Elain smiled and hurried to her sister for a closer look.

“I usually prefer bold colors for formal wear, but I this is definitely an exception,” Mor said as she evaluated the beadwork and tight lace sleeves that went down to Nesta’s wrist.

The dress was long with sheer lace draped down her long legs over a short dark hem skirt that ended at her mid-thighs. It was revealing enough to draw attention, but the dark lace made the gown modest enough for Nesta who was uncomfortable showing off too much skin. Beadwork was sewn down the cleavage line and carried on across the bust area until reaching the mid-thigh. Nesta smoothed the metal grey silk slash that banded her waist and trailed flowingly along the long lace to the floor.

“It’s wonderful,” Nesta said in awe and spun slowly to get a feel of the dress as she moved.

“So this is the dress?” Feyre asked.

Nesta paused to look at the price tag.

“Don’t worry about it,” More said quickly. “It’s worth the cost.”

Nesta frowned when she finally saw the price. “I can’t spend this much money on a dress I’ll only wear once.”

“You can save it. I’m sure Cassian will invite you to more events in the future,” Feyre said with a knowing look at her sister who glared in response.

“I’m not joking-” Nesta began to argue when Helion arrived.

“You found a dress I see. It looks quite lovely on you dear,” Helion smiled.

“Helion we’ll be using my discount today if you don’t mind ringing it up,” Feyre said.

“Feyre I can’t possibly let you do this,” Nesta said refusing to let her sister try to pay for the dress.

“Don’t worry, I am a frequent customer and that means I get discounts when I put purchases under my name. You can pay me the remaining price after the discount is applied.”

“I doubt a discount will be enough,” Nesta said before turning back into the changing room and removing the dress.

In the meantime Helion rang up the dress on the register and informed Feyre and the others of the new price. Nesta’s head jerked out of the door as she heard the considerably lower price.

“Are you joking?” Nesta questioned unbelieving of what he said.

“I do not joke around miss, now would you like that packaged and delivered?”

“That’s all right we drove today so we will be taking the dress with us,” Mor said pulling out her set of car keys.

“Very well I’ll take the dress with me so I can place it in a bag and we can finalize the sale,” Helion walked to the changing room where Nesta stepped out in her regular clothes and handed him the dress.

“Are you sure that was the price and you’re not mistaken?” Nesta glanced at Feyre wondering what sort of discount she had that enabled her to get hundreds of dollars off a dress.

“I’m positive now if you follow me we will go to the register.” Helion led the small group to the registers where he completed the sale and delicately handed Nesta her new dress in a long dark protective bag with the store’s logo on it.

“Thank you Helion!” Feyre said with a wave as the girls left the store with the new purchase.

“Let’s go get some jewelry and new shoes to go with the dress,” Mor said excitedly listing off places while Elain chatted with her about a few vintage boutiques that would be good to visit.

Nesta and Feyre hung back as they walked down the sidewalk leading to the parking garage. “You didn’t need to do that,” Nesta said suddenly. “Using your magical discount which I still don’t think is quite true.”

“Believe me Nesta I do have a discount considering I helped Helion out of a bind months ago,” Feyre briefly explained. “His two kids went to school with us and let’s just say they were on the brunt end of Amarantha’s tirade before the whole incident.”

The incident being Feyre exposing the university’s president and being the cause of Amarantha’s ‘reign’ ending at Prythian University or at any school in general.

“You’ve already done enough though Feyre,” Nesta turned to her sister. “Ever since we were kids you were always going above and beyond to help Elain and I when it should have been us pulling the weight.”

Feyre shook her head. “Honestly Nesta it prepared me for what was to come in the future. Without everything that happened we might not be here now and I probably never would have met Rhys. If I had to do it all over again I would.”

The sisters walked silently as they watched Mor and Elain chattering up ahead. Finally Nesta sighed and looked back to her sister. Grey eyes meeting matching grey ones. The same color their mother’s eyes were before she was gone.

“Thank you Feyre,” Nesta gave her the faintest of smiles with eyes that shimmered with sincerity. “For everything. And I’m sorry I wasn’t the sister you needed growing up.”

Feyre nodded. “I forgive you and thank you for being here with me now Nesta.”

And for perhaps the first time in their lives the youngest and eldest Archeron sisters strode in tune with one another. Finally having a better understanding and loving each other for those differences that made them come to this point in their lives.

Nesta took a deep breath of city air and felt like she was at ease with her sister’s warmth walking beside her and the forgiveness that she never thought she would ever deserve or receive. Today was one of the brightest days in Nesta’s existence as she moved forward in her life full of new beginnings and bonds she was excited to experience.

[vidalinav]

Letting Things Get too Far: (One-shot) *Contains ACOSF spoilers

This is not the fic I was going to post and I am on the fence now about posting “Love is Bright Red, Hope is Dark Blue.” I might still do it, but I don’t know, because I don’t want the six chapters to influence my perception, but OMG I am so mad. I have to laugh because I’ve never been this mad before. And I know eventually it will be okay with the rest of the book, but I cannot deal NOW with what we’ve got. I will not be unbiased, no reader in the world is unbiased when they love a book, but oooo this is a little too much. Like if you’re not deeply enraged are you even a fan? Lol

The only way I deal with emotions is writing because I get really obsessive and I cannot stop thinking about something until I change my mind about it, so I wrote a fic based on those chapters to change my mind. 

So Please don’t read this fic if you haven’t read the 5.5 chapters that were released (legally) to the world yesterday. I do have to say that I wrote this based on Italian translation and not of the one that was translated by someone here in English. But the general concept it the same. 

Summary: Nesta gets threatening (some time after she’s “healed”) 

~

Nesta could tell they were watching her. She supposed it must have seemed off to them that she was sitting in the dining room, reading a newspaper, a toast with jam and cup of tea to the side of her. Too casual, they must have thought. So very much unlike the Nesta they knew.

But one by one they sat—to the side of her of course since she’d chosen the head of the table. Nesta knew of only one other person who would dare sit across from her. She smirked behind the letters, the paper smelling of ink.

First Elain, sweet Elain with her soft, cautious good morning.

Then Feyre with her ruffled hair, matted and imperfect. Nothing like the High Lady she was supposed to be. How embarrassing, she thought, that Feyre had not yet learned that queens were to be perfect in every instance. Every circumstance.

Mor yawned loudly, stretching her arms above her head. The billowy blonde looked to Feyre as Nesta sipped a bit of tea. Green with a slice of lemon.

Amren was shushed as she came barreling in. Loudly and grumpy. Tired, perhaps, from her days going over the law books of Velaris code.

Rhysand kissed the apple of Feyre’s cheek, her little sister’s skin turning red. A honeyed gesture that made the rest gag mockingly for the way Rhys then bit down on the soft flesh and playfully pulled. He indeed sat where she thought he was going to—the only seat left closest to Feyre. His brows furrowed when he noticed her across from him, but Nesta didn’t give him the light of day.

The game had not begun.

Nesta waited for the missing player, ruffling the newspaper, the sound harsh in this room where all remained quiet. As if they were waiting for something.

Waiting for someone.

Azriel walked in, sitting to the side of her. He peered up at her. Wary and assessing. What are you up to?

She blinked at him surprised, not at all expecting that he’d be here for this—that he’d come down from the House of Wind to grace them with his presence. No matter. This talk wasn’t particularly for him, but she supposed he’d learn something too. As they all could.

The last one of them arrived with a flourish down the stairs. Bright and loud, stomping on the wood as if soldiers had been set loose in this house and not merely one male who made her smile sweetly despite herself.

He kissed her on the lips, a small peck. Something new for the others to witness. They looked at each other, mirth in their eyes—shock. But not from her happiness, Nesta thought, from their triumph. This broken girl who’d been mended when her heart was full.

“Sit down,” Nesta commanded softly, pointing her chin to the seat beside her—across from Azriel. She watched him look towards his brother, but Azriel merely shrugged.

“You waited for me?” Cassian laughed, the sound off even to her. His eyes squinting with concern… or was that vigilance she saw?

Oh, how dangerous he must know her to be to look at her like that.

Nesta smiled, her eyes softening. “I’d always for wait for you.”

Cassian lips set into a fine line at the sickly-sweet tone.

“In fact, I couldn’t have done this without you,” she gestured to the room, shrugging at the last moment. A strained laugh on her voice, “Or so they’ll say.”

Nesta set her newspaper down. The paper rumbling. Distantly she could hear the yells of soldiers, the clash of swords calling to her in her memory.

But none of that noise was here. No one said a gods-damned thing.

She sighed, sitting back in her chair, surveying them all. She could scent their fear, but Nesta didn’t know who it was coming from as she looked to food in the center. Vibrant jellies, eggs, and bacon. Much more food than any she’d consumed in her months away. She’d been reduced to plain porridge.

“Just say what you need to say, girl,” Amren said, gripping the table with her hands. Small and powerless.

Not as powerful as her anyway.

“You’re right of course, dear friend. I should get on with it as any other.”

Nesta lilted her head in a nod. “Consider this meeting long overdue. It was my fault really, for having been in such a low place. I suppose being constantly faced with death and brutality is a regular occurrence to the fae.”

She shrugged a nonchalant shoulder, huffing a laugh as Cassian’s gaze went to the skin of her collarbone from where her robe had slipped off from her shoulder. “Or so I’ve been endearingly reminded of for the past four months… It was my bad of course for letting things get too far.”

Nesta leaned forward, laying her head delicately on her hand. “Isn’t that what you said Feyre? I want to get the exact words right.”

But Feyre didn’t speak only stared at her with those blue eyes so much like hers but so different. They were made from different parts she supposed—different parts of their mother. Feyre got the stomach, and Nesta got her cold, melodic heart.

Queen indeed.

“Letting things get too far?” Nesta laughed, the sound loud even to her own ears. “Yes, I suppose that was true… But you know, this amazing thing happened when I was forced to follow this routine of yours. Have breakfast. Train. Have lunch. Work at the library. Have breakfast. Train. Have lunch. Work at the library. Over and over until I thought the monotony might kill me itself.”

Nesta smiled brightly to all of them, her eyes rolling over their gazes. Elain didn’t dare look at her. Nesta was not in the mood to comfort. What were older sisters for but to lead by example?

“If the magic and the trauma didn’t do it first,” she added.

 She lowered her voice as if she were about to tell a story, engaging her audience until all they could do was listen.

“And then—like a miracle—Cassian was called to Vallahan and I went with him. Screw the rules, he said…” Nesta patted him in the shoulder. A good little soldier. “So easy for you to say that when the rules were not made for you.”

“You know what I discovered?” She sang.

Nesta waited for an answer, but no one would meet her gaze.

She looked to the one who knew so much about the outside world. The one who could never leave the one inside her head. “What did I discover Mor?”

Mor took a sip of her mimosa, cringing as she swallowed. “People fear you.”

“People fear me,” Nesta said, proudly.

She laughed, shaking her head at these beings in pajamas who thought so highly of themselves.

She lifted a shoulder, “for good reason of course. I certainly convinced the council of Vallahan. I always knew I had this power, but to wield it—to not let it control me but to be controlled—Glorious.”

“And you know what I learned in those two weeks?” Nesta lowered her voice, the words slipping out of her in a sneer. “That I have more power in my little pinky then you have in your entire body. All of you.”

She flipped her hair back, where a stray piece had fallen forward, “I got your little treaty signed of course. That was simple. You’d be surprised how easy it is for people to give up their will when they are pissing their pants. But no matter, all’s fair right?”

“Why are you tell us this?” Rhys asked. “What do you want?”

Her eyes went to his, those violent storms of subdued rage.

Tell me again to sit like a dog High Lord, she whispered into his mind. Rhys sat straight up, Feyre grasping his arm.

Nesta simply picked up her newspaper once more. The image in the center showing a great depiction of Velaris’s royal family.

“You ever make a decision on my behalf again,” her voice turning to soft silk. As sweet as a poison apple, “I will burn this city to the ground.”

Nesta tilted her head up, noting the marbled leaves engrained in the ceiling. The opulence. The fraudulent comfort of a house too large for two.

“I think I’ll start with this estate.”

She tutted. “Paints are usually flammable, aren’t they Feyre?”

She watched her sister swallow, the light of Rhysand’s eyes dimming to a darkness she thought might engulf them all.

Nesta could smell his fear…

She lifted the cup to her lips, “Understood?”

“Duly noted.”

The rest mumbled their assent.

And Nesta turned to the toast at her side, already spread with apricot jam. She picked up the bread and set it on Cassian’s plate. “I quite like these jams. We should get some before we go.”

“Too much sugar,” he replied slowly, as if he was getting used to the switch from her being threatening to caring. “You eat this, and you’ll be tired within the hour.”

Nesta pouted in response, wrinkling her nose, “You know, you really need to lighten up. Maybe you’ve gotten harsher in your old age.”

Cassian gave her a hard look.

“I mean, you’re in your 500s. You can barely keep up with the times,” She teased. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t keep up… in other areas.”

Cassian scoffed, lifting his lips in an outrageous laugh.

“Wait” Feyre called, holding her hands up in surrender. Nesta turned to her, lifting a curious brow. Her little sister blinked back, unsure if Nesta still wanted to destroy their home.

She would never destroy her little sister’s home...

But then Nesta thought of her shabby apartment laying in rubbles, ready to be rebuilt.

Oh, right.

“Will you continue to be our emissary?”

That was a question Nesta was not expecting…

“Oh, I don’t know,” She flourished. “I suppose we’ll see how it goes.”

She shrugged dramatically, “You follow these rules… and after a couple of months, I’ll re-assess your behavior. We can revisit me working with you all after some time has passed.”

“I don’t see how you’re allowed to do whatever you please, just by being threatening,” Amren noted.

Nesta smiled at the hypocrisy.

“Subsection B, Line 84 says I can,” Nesta sang, “As long as were making up rules.”

~

I’m laughing as I type this. This book is about to be a cathartic experience. It actually did make me feel better to write this. 

I wish someone would release an epub already. Like fuck this shit, we’ve bought three versions, two versions, one versions, multiple versions. There’s only a week left. It hardly matters, release the PDF! The book was supposed to be out last month anyway. I’m not into self-righteousness right now, like the release of books is mostly about money. Sara has earned her part. I’m sure she’s happy. These are the people who hardly cared about promoting it at all. I think they threw this book out the window a long time ago and you know what they saved money on promotions too. They’ll be fine. 

I’m clearly displacing my anger... But I cant handle this anymore... But I cant stay away.