#When she has Feyre go on and on about his broad hands and sculpted chest and handsome face?

[acourtofthought]

I want someone to provide me canon text as to why Elain "can't stand being near Lucien" and how that proves she doesn't find him attractive.

Does she ignore him as of the novella and SF? Yes but so did Nesta when it came to Cassian:

There were layered and complex reasons for why Nesta ignored Cassian at various points throughout the series regardless of her attraction to him so why couldn't there also be layered and complex reasons for Elain in regards to Lucien?

If your answer is "because she doesn't want a mate" then doesn't canon text also support a female main character changing her mind on that?

This:

To this:

So how does anyone know with 100% certainty that Elain has zero sexual attraction to Lucien just because she ignores him at this point in the series, a change from what happened between them in ACOWAR:

Feyre cringed at the sound of Rhys's name after she had fallen for him:

Cringed at his name after running away from him after he was wounded once she found out they were mates.

We saw these moments despite the fact that Rhys was the most beautiful man Feyre had ever seen:

Elain doesn't have to want to interact with Lucien to be sexually attracted to him, correct? There are many people I find extremely good looking who I'll never interact with because I'm not in a position to pursue them. If she is sexually attracted to him she might not want to act upon it if she's not in the frame of mind for something more meaningful which sex with a known mate would most likely be. Even without having fallen in love a confirmed bond is a bridge to anothers soul and that's a lot more than just sex. Her not wanting more right now makes sense after her broken engagement, her not wanting a mate for that same reason at this point in the series does too though it's something that could easily change in the span of 800+ pages.

Hooking up with Lucien would come with much more intensity than hooking up with a random guy she sees from time to time and who she doesn't share a bond with.

It's canon Elain found Az attractive but we have no proof she found him better looking than Graysen, that he's anything special to her at all, that hooking up with him would have meant anything at all.

And while it's canon she wanted to hook up with Az we don't have the reasons behind it, whether a night of fun, proving to Nesta that she too can go off and fuck strangers or her simply trying to forget the emotions she might feel when her mate is around.

I can't prove with certainty that is the case but the other side can't prove it isn't therefore it's still on the table.

In SF it became canon that Nesta found Cassian appealing from the start though she did not give in to her sexual desires for him until her book.

So again where is this canon text that proves we can't see the same for Elain in regards to Lucien?

[regolithheart]

Love In The Time of Coronavirus: Chapter Six

Summary: One pandemic, one lake house, and two people who loathe one another. Will they be able to survive the outbreak...and each other?

MASTER LIST

Read on AO3.

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CHAPTER SIX:

It was the end of the week and despite their rocky beginning, both Nesta and Cassian had made it through without causing any physical harm to one another. Much to Nesta’s surprise, they had even fallen into a daily routine with shared breakfasts, cocktails at five on the dot, and even cooking dinner together.

She had enjoyed that part of her days the most—almost looking forward to 6pm when she’d wander into the kitchen to see what they were having for dinner. It was easy to talk to Cassian when most of his attention was elsewhere and with her own small tasks to be done, she could easily ignore him if he was being too…Cassian.

Too Cassian.

Before the quarantine she would have labeled him as irritating—too full of himself and stubborn. Things came easy to Cassian: his smile, his jokes, flirting. He was at ease in every situation because he took nothing seriously whereas Nesta took everything seriously. She didn’t understand how he did it, moved through life without analyzing every minuscule detail of it. 

Before the quarantine she would have labeled him as a beautiful idiot, because yes, she couldn’t deny the fact that he was good-looking. Try as she might, even alone in her bedroom with no one else to judge her. She still couldn’t say those words, that looking at Cassian sometimes made her weak in the knees.

But that had been before the quarantine. After spending almost a whole week with him, Nesta had begun to discover other parts of Cassian. That he was an attentive listener and generous with his time. That he smiled at everything, even when it wasn’t funny. That he stuck the tip of his tongue out when he was trying to be flirty, but also subconsciously, when he was concentrating on something.

And in the span of six days, she had caught herself wondering what Cassian looked like shirtless, at least twice. Once, when she saw him lounging outside on one of the deck chairs. The rising sun had painted his face with a golden glow and she had wondered what it would have looked like, spilling across his broad shoulders. And a second time, when he had off-handedly pulled back the collar of his shirt to reveal that yes, he did in fact know what real pain was as marked by the whorls of black ink on his flesh.

Nesta had allowed herself a two second glance that had her stomach doing cartwheels. She had bit her lip hard enough to hurt and avoided his eyes for the rest of the dinner. 

Yes, Nesta still thought Cassian was brash and too loud. He didn’t know how to respect personal boundaries and made everything his business. And how on Earth he wasn’t able to sit still or in silence for ten minutes straight would always grate on Nesta’s nerves. But he was also all the other small things that she had began discovering as well, the things that made her reconsider how much she actually despised him. 

Which made her flustered for completely other reasons. 

Looking around for something to distract her, her eyes fell onto her phone. 

Perhaps she should finally give Feyre a call. She was beginning to feel guilty for not reaching out, especially because she hadn’t spoken to her baby sister since before their quarantining began. 

Glancing at her watch, she figured now was as good a time as any. 

Feyre picked up on the second ring.

“Nesta, hi. How are you?” Her voice was soft, happy.

“I wanted to check up on you. Is this a good time?”

“Yes, of course. I’m glad you called.”

Nesta could hear people talking in the background, but it had quieted down when Feyre spoke again. “How are things going with Cas—“ She cleared her throat. “How are you doing?”

Nesta scrunched her nose. She wasn’t sure why, but she had suddenly became annoyed. “Fine.”

Feyre was quiet, but when Nesta didn’t provide any further detail, she spoke again. “That’s good… all of my classes are online now… how’s work?”

Nesta shrugged even though she knew Feyre couldn’t see her. “Business as usual. Some people can’t do their jobs when they’re at work or at home.”

Feyre gave her a small chuckle. “Not everyone is as brilliant as you.” She paused a moment. “What about Cassian? Are you guys getting along?”

There it was again, that lick of irritation. “He’s fine. We’re fine. I can actually be civil, you know.”

“I know that! I was just asking. Making sure he wasn’t giving you a hard time or anything.” 

“No.” Nesta felt just a smidge bit guilty. “I mean, he’s not being any more of a pain in my ass than he usually is.” She didn’t know why she was compelled to add, “We’ve been… making dinner together. We’re also taking turns making breakfast.”

“You’re making breakfast?”

“I know how to scoop yogurt into a bowl!”

Feyre laughed. “Can’t argue with you there. You’re the best at it!” 

“Damn right, I am.”

“Do you fan out the bananas and dot the granola with raspberries for Cassian, too?”

“No. He has not proven himself worthy of banana-fanning yet.”

Feyre laughed again. “Good. Only Archerons get fanned bananas.” After a few seconds, she let out a soft sigh and her voice was gentle. “But you’re doing okay?” 

Nesta bit the inside of her cheek. It was always like Feyre to try and take care of them. Sweet, gentle, Elain, she understood, but sometimes Nesta hated the implication that she couldn’t take care of herself. 

“Yes, yes. I’m fine, Feyre.”

“Good. And Elain? Have you talked to her? I try to call but we keep missing each other.”

“I talked to her last night. She sounds bored out of her mind, but I don’t know what she expected locking herself up in an apartment with Graysen.”

“Nesta.” There was that motherly tone again.

“Tell me you disagree.”

“She loves him.”

Nesta’s only response was a derisive snort. 

When Feyre spoke again, the austerity was gone and was replaced with a hint of mischievousness that Nesta had learned to detect years ago. “I’m glad you don’t sound like you’re bored out of your mind.”

“I’ve been busy with work.”

“In a beautiful house with the best scenery?”

“It’s… tolerable.”

Feyre cackled at that. “I’ll make sure to let Rhys know that you think his house is tolerable.”

“Please, don’t. It’ll just make his head bigger. I mean come on, Feyre. Who installs a full-sized sauna in their home?”

Her sister’s giggles were starting to become contagious and Nesta smiled. “I thought that, too, but just give in to the sauna, Nesta. You won’t regret it.”

“Fine, but two Pelotons?” 

“Okay. I’ll agree with you on that one, but it’s so much nicer when we don’t have to readjust the seat every time we want to ride.” 

“Unbelievable. You know, Elain and I had to share one bike until I was ten.” 

“Yes, and I got all your hand-me-downs.” 

Nesta smirked to herself. 

“Listen, I gotta go. We’re just about to eat dinner.”

The photo of Feyre looking so happy with her new found family flashed in Nesta’s mind, making her chest feel oddly tight. “Okay. Have a good night.”

“You, too. Love ya.”

“Same.”

“Bye bye.” Feyre hung up, leaving Nesta’s room feeling even more quiet than it had before.

Wondering what to do with the rest of her day, she gave the book on her nightstand a dejected glance. 

Normally, she would have jumped at the opportunity to spend the whole day reading, but she felt restless and decided that perhaps she should make use of the Peloton and sauna downstairs. It wasn’t as though she had any other plans and it would give her a chance to work out some of her sudden listlessness. 

Silently thanking Elain for making her pack gym clothes, she changed into a matching set of stormy blue high-waisted tights and sports bra and gave herself a once over in the full-length mirror as she pulled her hair into a high pony-tail. Out of habit, she swiped her lips with her favorite mint balm before leaving the room.

The house was quiet and for a brief second, Nesta wondered were Cassian was. Again, his bedroom door was ajar and the room empty and she hadn’t heard him in the kitchen either. 

She wondered if he was stretched out on the lawn as she’d seen him before, during her work days—no doubt spying on her or more likely, trying to get on her nerves and distract her from important emails and conference calls. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that he had chosen to reposition the outdoor furniture to sit perfectly framed in the view from the office window. 

Nesta was debating whether or not she should call him out on it the next time she saw him when she entered the gym and stopped dead in her tracks. 

Standing in the middle of the room, toweling off his brow was Cassian. His t-shirt was loose and the V of the collar hung low, revealing the sculpted hardness of his chest. Muscles defined and taut in a deep bronze, glistened with sweat. The dark curling ends of his tattoo rippled as he moved—like ink gliding over water—and Nesta’s fingertips tingled.

Looking up, his finally saw her standing in the doorway. Their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity and then he spoke, breaking the spell.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He grinned, slinging his towel over his shoulder.

Nesta crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

Cassian chuckled, making it sound like she’d just told a joke instead of sending a death glare his way. 

“I’d ask if you were lost, but judging from your outfit, it doesn’t look like you’re on your way to the ball.”

Nesta watched as Cassian’s eyes dragged from her sneakers up her legs, then torso, and then… 

She turned, walking over to the stationary bikes, hoping he hadn’t caught the flush that was beginning to bloom across her chest. 

Looking at the Peloton, Nesta began to question her decision. Thinking she should switch over to the treadmill, she felt Cassian’s breath against the shell of her ear. 

“Here, let me help.”

How he had managed to sneak up behind her without her noticing was a surprise, but not as big of one as how close he had gotten. She could feel the heat radiating off of him and if she took a half-step back, there was a strong chance she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from melting into him. 

Instead, she straightened her back and at the sudden lost of heat, knew that Cassian had widened the distance between them. Chancing a glance behind her, she saw him leaning against the treadmill. His hand gently—casually—rubbing the back of his neck.

“You need special shoes for that,” he said, jutting his chin towards the pedals. “Feyre’s are in the cabinet. You wear the same size, right?”

Nesta took her time retrieving the shoes and putting them on, anything to give her a moment to even out her breathing and collect herself. It was only the surprise of running into him that had thrown her off. 

Focus, Nesta. You’ve seen a muscled man before. 

When she got back to the bikes, Cassian was already tinkering with the levers and bolts. 

“You’re taller than Feyre. We’ll have to adjust the seat.” He held out his hand. 

Nesta swallowed, but did not let her hand slip into his. Instead, she nudged him away with her elbow to give herself some space.

Cassian chuckled. He remained standing where Nesta had pushed him, but he was still close enough for her to feel the rumble of his laughter on her skin—close enough for her to smell the salt and sweat on him.

She scowled. 

Cassian moved behind her to tug at the seat, adjusting it to align with her hip before leaning over to tighten the screw, fixing it into place. She watched as his arms flexed, the tight chords of his muscles shifting easily beneath that deep copper skin. 

She realized she had never stood this close to him before, so close that she could see a bead of sweat glide down the chiseled stone column of his neck and she hated the tightness she was feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she also couldn’t look away. 

When Cassian straightened, Nesta bristled. 

“I need you to hold your arm out so I can adjust the seat distance. Elbow at the seat front.” 

This time, Nesta did finally allow Cassian to guide her and the gentle brush of his hand at her elbow, her arm, felt oddly intimate. His palm was calloused and the scrape of it against her skin made her spine tingle. 

His hands were so big.

Nesta was reminded of where she was when Cassian told her she could get onto the bike. Eager for the distraction, she locked her shoe into the pedal and swung her leg around to the other side. Again, she felt the heat of Cassian’s body close to her skin, this time from the hand hovering just above the small of her back.

“I can handle it from here,” she said, dismissing him.

Clearing her throat, she began scrolling through the classes on the screen, not chancing a look at him.

She had already felt too vulnerable in the five minutes standing next to him and now that she was sitting on a bike, her feet locked into place, she couldn’t allow herself the possibility of toppling over, or worse, not being able to escape if he fixed her with one of his looks. 

Cassian didn’t say anything until he got to the door. Not turning back, he said, “Have fun,” before leaving.

It wasn’t until Nesta heard the door click shut that she let her shoulders sag. Expelling a deep breath, she shook out the tension in her arms, her neck. 

Scrolling through the classes, she decided a ninety minute power ride was exactly what she needed to shake the unfamiliar jitteriness that had suddenly seized her entire body. 

---------------

Cassian let his forehead rest against the wall as he released a shuttering breath. He had made it to the end of the hallway before having to stop to collect himself. Slinging his towel across the back of his neck, he grabbed both ends and tugged firmly. 

God.

He had barely made it out of there. Had surprised himself when he was able to say something that wasn’t a declaration of how much he wanted to kiss her, touch her. 

He hadn’t been expecting it, her showing up at the gym like that and in those clothes…

He had always thought she was gorgeous. She had taken his breath away the first time he had laid eyes on her and in their subsequent meetings, she’d only proven herself more and more beautiful. But today… with that thin material matching the exact color of her eyes and clinging to each and every one of her curves, he couldn’t help himself. He just had to be near her.

And so he moved—stalked in three long strides—close enough to touch her, but not daring to. 

He had half-expected her to turn around and snap at him. To claw at him with her nails and her words. And when she didn’t, and he saw the blush against the shell of her ear, exactly where his breath had been, he thought that maybe…

But her back had stiffened and so he backed away, tried to plaster on that cool exterior he could easily hide behind, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable than she had been. Of course, he was only human and when she walked off to find Feyre’s shoes, Cassian’s eyes had followed her. Followed those long legs, the curve of her backside, and the swell of her hips as they swayed. 

He had had to muster every bit of strength in his body to remain calm. And for a moment, he had considered leaving the room to escape the torture. 

But as soon as she’d come back within arm’s reach of him, he couldn’t walk away. And she had let him touch her arm. 

It had been the most chaste of touches. A past Cassian would have laughed at himself for being so modest, but it had set his hand on fire. Her skin was so soft, and for a heartbeat, he had let himself wonder if she’d let him touch her anywhere else. Her shoulder? Her neck? Those pouty lips? 

If she’d let him, he’d trace his fingertips across that delicate skin to mark her—let her know where his mouth would follow. 

Cassian groaned.

He felt foolish, like a giddy teenager touching a girl for the first time, instead of the grown man he was. One who had taken many lovers, all of whom had let him do much more than touch their elbow. 

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

They had let him—wanted him to, begged him, in fact. But Nesta… all she did was push him away and brush him off. She had glared at him and bristled at his closeness. And when he was done being useful, she had dismissed him wholly. 

Cassian had thought that she was finally beginning to thaw against him. Their interactions had become cordial, almost friendly at times. But again, she had managed to prove him wrong. 

He raked a hand through his hair, tugging hard. Then pushed himself off the wall, and headed upstairs, looking to take a very, very cold shower. 

[the-curious-alice]

Ezriel “Training”

I haven’t written anything in forever so I attempted at Ezriel

She thrashed, biting and clawing, shrieking as her left boot was hauled back dragging her against the earth.

She tried to shove away, grass churning around her like flour on the kitchen counter, but the arms that gripped her were immovable, like twisted branches of thick iron.

A rasping voice sounded in her ear, the heated breath tickling the hairs on her neck sending a wave of heat to her belly, “Lovely attempt at getting away Elain, however if you turn your back to your enemy they will snap your neck.”

The cold shadow fingers slowly loosened around her throat once her body relaxed against Azriel’s broad armored chest.

As his shadows retreated from around her throat Elain felt the thick arms around her waist and chest loosen allowing her to stand from her hunched over position in the grass of the clearing.

It had been months since the war against Hybern, the visions that had filled her nightmares faded, thank the Mother.

Spending all her time in her garden tending to her roses and baking in the kitchen until the Sun set in Velaris. Feyre insisted she and Nesta learned how to fend for themselves in case another war broke out while she and Rhysand tried to maintain the peace among the Courts and the Mortal Realm.

So taking up Feyre’s request to train, only to ease her sister’s mind, Elain chose to request Azriel to train her seeing how Cassian practically threw Nesta over his shoulder and left the room grinning like a cocky bastard, ignoring Nesta’s curses about him training her.

Brushing the dirt and grass off her brown Illyrian leather trousers and faded pink blouse Mor had given her that morning, Elain scooped up Truth-Teller from the dirt gripping the handle of Azriel’s favorite blade tightly. “Again.” She said to the beautiful Illyrian male before her as she crouched in the fighting stance Azriel had only shown her hours earlier.

Azriel’s hazel eyes lightened slightly at her stance as the corner of his lips twitched up slightly as if he was fighting the urge to laugh. Walking towards her with feline grace he crossed his arms over the scaled armor on his chest letting the sun reflect off his blue Siphons.

Staying crouched down with Truth-Teller at the ready she watched as Azriel stalked around her like a predator about to pounce on it’s prey before stopping behind her.

His lips brushed the shell of her ear sending chills down her porcelain skin, “Legs farther apart,” He critiques in a soft tone as he gently nudged her right foot slightly farther with his own boot. “More weight on one leg so you’re ready to dodge any attack.” He stated placing his scarred hands on her hips, causing the blouse to rise up, the roughness rubbing her soft skin as he swayed them to the right and back against his hips slightly.

She could sense the heat radiating off of his body as she tensed at the light touch of his scarred hands on her hips, feeling her heart leap up into her throat she fought the urge to rut her hips back against his to feel every inch of him.

“Are you alright?” Azriel asked, his hazel eyes filled with curiosity and worry as his shadows moved up his neck close to his ears, their whispers setting his nerves on edge.

‘She feels your touch, her heart rate increases, she longs for more, but you cannot give her more-’

Azriel stepped back clearing his throat as his shadows moved back down to his sides whispering softly. “Now-” He began walking around pulling a sica blade from his side twirling it in his hand before crouching in the same position. “Strike me, don’t let me get behind you.”

Sloppily slashing Truth-Teller at Azriel with all her Fae strength. The ringing collision of their blades cracked across the afternoon air. Azriel grinned earning a smile from Elain as he spoke, “Good, but don’t get cocky-” He trailed off forcing Elain back toward one of the large oaks on the edge of the clearing.

Azriel catapulted himself on top of her, his hand pressing the tip of the blade against the smooth skin of Elain’s throat tipping her head back against the tree as his wings shifted cocooning them in against the large oak while shadows pinned her wrists against the wood so she couldn’t move.

She opened her mouth. Nothing. His cold stare gleamed with triumph. Her jaw opened and closed uselessly as her heart pounded in her chest at having him so close. Azriel’s ruthless face turned soft, like it had when they shared stolen glances at the table, or in Elain’s garden while he “tanned his wings.” She wanted to smile. To laugh. To cry. So this was what it meant to give in. "You did much better, but I cannot help but feel like you’re holding back.” Azriel whispered finally not realizing how close they had became as he leaned closer to her face, their noses brushing against one another gently as he spoke.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Elain squeaked bashfully, her pale cheeks turning as pink as the roses in her garden.

“That’s why we’re here, training. To figure out how strong your body has become in these last few months.” Azriel told her softly, but his eyes burned so intensely that she had to look away.

Shoving off the tree Azriel stepped back giving Elain some space as he spoke again, “Try again, this time don’t hold back, I have Madja to heal me if you get a little too rough.”

Moving into positions once again at the center of the clearing Elain let out a deep breath before launching herself forward swinging Truth-Teller with blinding speed at Azriel’s chest hearing the clash of metal and ripping of fabric as he winnowed into the shadows causing Elain to stagger losing her grip as the blade fell from her hand. Cold metal pressed against her throat as Azriel’s thick arm tightened around her waist, “Better- but not good enough.” His rough voice whispered against her ear.

Hissing Elain grabbed his arm before hauling herself forward using Azriel’s weight to throw him over and off her back. A move she only saw a few times between Cassian and Rhysand while they practiced. Pressing her knee against his throat gently but enough to keep him in place, stretching sideways to pick up Truth-Teller Elain brought the blade down to his tan throat.

Azriel’s wings flared out beneath them, he was grinding his teeth, uttering blood boiling noises, growling like an animal. ”Perfect.” He grinned as Elain huffed lowering Truth-Teller as her body relaxed, finally beating him. She beat him. The great Shadowsinger of The Night Court.

“I beat yo-”

Before she could finish her sentence Azriel flipped them over tumbling in the dirt as his shadows pinned her arms above her head, his hips flushed up against hers pressing her down in place against the earth. “First rule Elain, never take your eyes off the enemy until they’re dead.”

The heat rushed down her body causing her heart to spike again as his eyes flickered between hers. “Az…” Elain whispered as his shadows loosened around her wrist allowing her small hands to trace his tanned sculpted face. Leaning up just enough to close the space between them pressing a gentle kiss against his lips.

His colossal hands tangled in her golden-brown locks loosening them from her braid as he deepened the kiss with a swipe of his tongue. Wiggling her hips up Azriel let out a feeble grunt pushing down against hers allowing her legs to tighten around his waist.

Twisting she flipped their bodies over pinning Azriel down panting with a triumphant grin on her pink lips. “I win Shadowsinger. Don’t take your eyes off the enemy.”

Azriel tossed his arm over his eyes chuckling weakly about how he would need a ice cold shower once they returned to The House of Wind. “Why shower when we’re alone-” Elain began hearing a soft voice clear their throat.

Tearing herself off of Azriel’s body Elain quickly got to her feet with Azriel following suit. At the edge of the clearing Rhysand and Feyre stood there, a pink tint on Feyre’s cheeks, a smirk on Rhysand’s lips.

“We were training.” Elain squeaked handing Truth-Teller back to Azriel pressing the handle roughly into his hands before qucikly making her way to Feyre following her back to The House of Wind.

“What?” Azriel lazily asked as he placed Truth-Teller back at it’s rightful place on his thigh.

“Nesta is going to kick your ass when she finds out.” Rhysand teased crossing his arms before winnowing out of the clearing.

“If she finds out.” Azriel grumbled grinning to himself before fading into the shadows.

@rhysanoodle

@theartfuldodgcr

@rosehallshadowsinger

[acourtofshipsanddreams]

The Night Court (and friends) at the beach

This ended up longer than planned. Please bare with me, as this was written in the car while my family and I drive from Texas to Florida. Enjoy! Mor: Suntans all day long; nothing can get this sun kissed goddess out of the sun (except for food maybe); admires all the pretty people on the beach (herself included) Amren: naps under the umbrella like a cat; magics in a chaise lounge because a towel is not good enough; Cassian throws her in the ocean and nearly loses his arm because of it; she grudgingly gives in to building a sand castle at Varian's pouting Varian: He LOVES sand castles and is secretly a champ at it, he and Amren make a seven foot tall sandcastle around Cassian while he is napping and seal him inside; he proudly names it "Amren's revenge" Tarquin: Shows off by turning into a giant fish creature and diving beneath the waves as soon as they arrive (we don't know what his beast mode is so I'm going with some kind of fishy-sea creature) Feyre: Wants to do it all—volleyball, swimming, surfing, soaring over the seas, you name it; scares the shit out of Rhys by shape-shifting into a great white shark, and Fish-Tarquin takes her to go see the coral reefs and underwater caves Rhys: He may be the High Lord of night, but he looks damn good in the sunlight; he and Feyre destroy his brothers in beach volleyball, and he is delighted at her competitive side; simply enjoys being with his family, and is overwhelmed by how lucky he is that he was given a second chance; ends the day by taking a sunset stroll hand-in-hand down the beach with his High Lady Cassian: nearly combusts at the sight of Nesta in a bikini, and can't keep his eyes off of her (Feyre winks at him and he vows to thank her later for giving her the suit); claims that Rhys and Feyre cheated and only won at volleyball bc they can speak mind to mind (but he's really just a sore loser), also swears that Azriel missed the ball on purpose; after waking up in his sand castle tomb, he now knows never to accept a dare from Nesta. But he also knows that he will continue to do so anyways. Nesta: Quiet and distant at first, choosing to sit by the shore and let the water rush over her feet while she took everything in; laughs at Cassian's tantrum when he loses the volleyball match; when Cassian comes to sit by her she surprises both of them by wrapping her arms around his neck and crawling into his lap; "I want to see it all. From the air. Will you fly me, Cass?"; "Do you trust me?" he whispered in her ear, and she shivered. She merely nodded. Cassian took her hands and lowered her slowly, sliding her off his sweat-slick body until she was hanging vertical. He continued to descend, those massive bat wings straightening into a glide, and finally her feet dipped into the warm waves. Nesta couldn't help the low laugh that escaped her lips from the thrill of their stunt, and she grinned up at hazel eyes filled with wonder. Too quickly they were once again rising, the salty breeze causing her body to sway. But she was not finished. "Drop me." He did the opposite. Cassian pulled her up until they were face to face, the muscles beneath his bronze skin tensing. He raised a dark brow at her. Feeling daring, she leaned into him, grazing his stubbled cheek with her lips, and whispered seductively in his ear, "I said drop me Cassian." And just because she could, she bit his ear lobe in emphasis. She felt the breath whoosh out of him, and he pulled his head back once again, her body heating as she met those hazel eyes full of mischief and desire. Her gaze dropped to those full lips as they parted, and Cassian, voice husky, simply said," As you wish, Nes." And then she was falling. Her vision was a blur of azure blue skies and turquoise waters as she plummeted toward the sea, her screams coming in a steady torrent until she finally plunged feet first into the ocean. Nesta's heart was thrumming with joy as she continued to sink in a cloud of white bubbles. A blur of silver circled in the shadows beneath her, and she could have sworn that the shark winked at her. Ignoring it, she swam hard for the surface, and the Illyrian she knew would be waiting for her. Her head barely crested the surface and then massive hands were yanking her out, cocooning her into a broad, sculpted chest. "Nesta, Nesta I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have dropped you, you could have been hurt—" Nesta covered his lips with her slender fingers before he could go on. "Again." Her voice was breathless. Cassian's eyes grew wide in surprise at her request, scanning her face closely. The joy she knew he found there must have been enough to convince Cassian that she was indeed fine, as he finally beat those wings into a steady climb. He kissed her forehead. "Daredevil." "Brute."; It was Nesta who later dared Cassian to drop Amren in the ocean, but she willingly lets him take the fall and get buried beneath Amren and Varian's sand castle Elain: doesn't really like the water and decides to go looking for sea shells instead; pretends not to notice that Azriel and Lucien have turned sea shell hunting into a competition Azriel: admits to missing the ball a few times simply because he thinks it's funny how angry Cassian gets when he loses; sunbathes with Mor and gossips about their friends and the other courts (she finally told him that she doesn't love him like that and now they're just best friends); "Elain, look at this one" picks out an iridescent blue and purple shell the size of his palm (he actually found it 200 years ago and has kept it ever since), Elain beams up at him and he smirks at Lucien, who is face palming Lucien: wishes for the cool, crisp air of the Autumn court or even the mild temperate of Spring, anything but this brutal, humid heat, but he refuses to complain in front of Elain; enjoys fishing on the shore until he reels in Feyre-the-shark (who grins at him with those wicked sharp teeth and plunges back into the surf); damn him if he doesn't find the perfect shell for his mate, he would make her a crown of shells... Both Azriel and Lucien: Sighing in disappointment when Feyre tops them and brings Elain a pearl after returning from her adventures with Tarquin, but melting at the sheer wonder on her face Bonus: Feyre- "Damn it Mor, for the last time this isn't a nude beach!" Mor- *winks "But it could be." Still not quite sure where the Nessian came from, but I enjoyed it! :)

[acourtofthought]

My "everybody wants Lucien" post was said tongue in cheek however..............

"Then at us, their eyes widening further as they noted Lucien's cruel beauty."

Feyre was standing with Brannagh, Dagdan and Jurian. But it was only upon seeing Lucien that the Children of the Blessed eyes widened at his "cruel beauty". He is literally the epitome of a fae male. Long red hair that burns like molten metal in the sun or when his temper rises, pointed ears, broad form, and a wicked scar that of course makes him all the sexier and dangerous looking.

"You should kill Beron and his sons and set up the handsome one as High Lord of Autumn".

Amren is a being 15,000 years old. A being that comes from a different world. She has seen many, many, many fae. How often does Amren talk about anyone's looks in a positive way? She acknowledged Elain's beauty in SF but beyond that, I don't think she cares a whit about doling out compliments. She could have said, "the scarred one" or "the one with the eye". But instead it was "the handsome one".

"Lucien's scarred, handsome face appeared."

We know that at the start of SF, Cassian hadn't completely warmed to Lucien since we later get a scene where Lucien tells Cassian he's not the enemy so he can drop the aggressive brute act and Cassian replies "who says it's an act?" So why would there be any reason for Cassian to be noting his not quite a friends "handsome face" unless it's a pretty stand out feature?

"Perhaps you'll get a handsome Fae lord as your mate, too."

Hybern is THE villain of the ACOTAR trilogy.

The Cauldron scene was dramatic, it was intense. But let's all make sure that everyone standing there knows that Lucien is a handsome fae lord in the midst of the chaos.

"I'd pick Beron's son, too."

The daemati twin knows Feyre was with Rhys at a certain point, then with Tamlin, both High Lords. She told Feyre that rather than having a High Lord she'd pick Lucien too. I'm not sure whether it's based on his physical appearance at all but "Autumn Court males have fire in their blood - and they fuck like it, too." Again, the fae would give up a High Lord for a titled but not really titled since he turned his back on the court lord just because of how good he would be in bed.

I'm not even going to drag this on longer by listing everything Feyre has said about Lucien but let's keep in mind that Rhys is the most beautiful male she'd ever seen, her mate.

Yet we have her going on about how fast Lucien can run, how well he dresses, how easily he lifts her from her horse, how he slung her like a sack of potatoes over her shoulder, his handsome face, his casual grace, his broad hands, his sculpted chest, the hard muscles of his shoulders, his corded forearms.

Ma'am. You are too thirsty over your sisters mate.

So while my post was meant to read as playful and fun, I'm not sure it was all that far off the mark.