#also not my fault that rhys went and did that

[soapbubbles511]

Hold on. I'm having a vision

Me and Rhys had a lot of romantic times on that set... off camera as well

[7seas-of-ryy]

Come Back To Me

Author’s Note: Italics are flashbacks! Grumpy x Sunshine! No shenanigans in this one! I'm sorry!

Summary: You had always been the positive one in the IC but one mission can change everything. Set during the war with Hybern!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of torture, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"Hey, I brought you something to eat." Azriel barely whispered as he entered your room.

You looked his way but said nothing, then turned your head back to what you were looking at. The view of the city from your room was always gorgeous, but now it was just something to for you to stare at while you struggled to get through the days.

Disappointment flooded the shadowsinger when you made no move to grab the food.

It had been months of this. Months of him trying to get you back to how you used to be. It seemed you made no improvement but he still tried.

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"Azzzzzz" You called out in a sing-song voice.

"What now?" He grumbled out.

He was trying to do work, frustrated he couldn't find a solution for Rhysand. And being holed up in the library was not helping his mood.

"You have to try this! I picked it up at the bakery and it is delicious!" You told him with pure excitement, not letting his attitude alter your mood.

You never let anyone get in the way of your mood. Happiness seemed to be easy for you. Glass half full was definitely how you viewed life. Azriel envied that.

Without waiting for a reply from the male, you held up the pastry to his mouth.

"I can feed myself." He spoke and gave you a look.

Instead of replying, you put the pastry in his face again. He rolled his eyes yet took a bite of the treat.

It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. His eyes immediately shut and groaned. That was what you loved, seeing these small moments where he wasn’t worried about saving everyone.

You could see the frustration fade from his face, replaced by awe of how amazing the baked good was.

"You can have the rest! I'll get out of your hair so you can get back to work. Oh! I almost forgot, I also got you this coffee, let me know if you need any help!" You told him as you made your way to the exit.

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The spymaster felt useless. It seemed there was nothing he could do for you... until an idea came to him.

He got to the bakery as fast as possible and bought the same pastry that you had bought him all those years ago. He grabbed himself a coffee and made his way back to you.

After knocking on your door to let you know he was coming in, he walked over to you.

"Guess what I got you!" He said with a smile, "Its one of those pastries that you love so much!"

He held it in front of you and you didn't even look his way.

Suddenly his apetite was gone. He didn't think it was possible for his heart to hurt anymore than it currently did. He kissed the top of your head and let you be.

Without another thought, he went to find Rhys.

"Help her. I don't care what you have to do, help her right now." Az pleaded.

"You know I can't do that. She hasn't asked me to and I don't do that without consent." Rhys told him.

"This is all your fault! You should have stopped her! Forbid her from using herself as a distraction! She is a shell of herself because of you!" Az was now shouting, letting his emotions take over.

"Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I wanted to leave her there?" Rhys shouted right back.

He was hurting from all of this too, everyone in the IC was. They had saved you and yet it seemed everyone was mourning the person you once were.

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He could hear you giggling before he saw you. As he entered his room, he saw you standing with your hands behind your back and a giant grin on your face.

Az eyed you suspiciously and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What're you doing in my room?" He questioned and his voice was rougher than he wanted it to be.

"Do you remember your leathers that ripped during the last mission we were on?" You asked the male.

He nodded his head in response, waiting for you to continue.

"I fixed them!" You said, revealing the repaired leathers that had been behind your back.

"I sewed them up and reinforced the seam!" You told him with such excitement.

His eyes softened slightly and he wanted to reach out and hug you but he couldn't let himself. He wouldn't let himself get too close to you, couldn't handle the pain of another loved one getting hurt.

"Thank you," He spoke bluntly then cleared his throat, "What were you laughing at?"

"A few of your shadows and I were just thinking about how you ripped them. I can't believe your leg slipped and you did the splits!" You let out another giggle.

He tried to fight it but a small smile made it's way to his face at your joy.

"Well, thank you again." He spoke quickly before you noticed his grin.

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He looked down at his clothes as he sat next to you in your room, there were small holes and rips all over them.

Normally you repaired them without him asking. He told you that you didn't have to but you assured him you wanted to. Now, he refused to let anyone else fix his clothes.

"Mor refuses to be seen with me in public." Azriel told you with a small laugh.

"She says I look homeless with all these rips in my clothes. But I don't care, I don't trust anyone else to sew my shirts besides you." He spoke again with a smile.

You still stayed completely still, staring at the city below. You felt hollow. It didn't matter that you were still alive, you were dead as far as you were concerned. There was no way to continue life after everything that had happened.

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It was supposed to be simple, meet with Eris, gather information on Hybern and return to the Night Court. The four of you weren't expecting a trap.

As you entered the old building to meet Eris, you could sense something was off. Your suspicions were confirmed when one wrong step set off a trap. Arrows, ash wood arrows shot out from all directions. Luckily you weren't hit by any. Two hit Rhys, one in his shoulder and one in his wing. One hit Feyre in her leg. And four...four hit Azriel; two in his wings, one in his side and one in his leg.

You ran to Az to help him, seeing he had the worst wounds.

"Hey hey, you're ok. I'm going to get you home and we can heal you up, ok?" You told him, giving him a smile that didn't reach your eyes. You forced your tears away, not willing to let him think you were worried.

He loved that smile. He was dying and yet all he could think about was how much your smile meant to him.

As you were trying to break the arrows so you could pull them out of him, you noticed his face pale. And then you heard it, Hybern's soldiers.

The trap must have alerted them and they would be here any minute.

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Rhys had told Az that you drank a few sips of water and ate a tiny bit. As soon as he got the news, he was running to your room. You hadn't responded to anyone at all yet but he seemed to be filled with a new hope.

So, he sat here talking to you and couldn't keep a smile off his face.

"I heard you got some food down, I'm proud of you." He gently offered his words.

He stayed with you for the rest of the day, talking to you about any and everything. He had never spoken so much in his life.

Months passed after that with no more improvements in your condition, it seemed you would never get better. He knew he fell in love with you no matter how hard he tried to stop it, so he fought like hell to hold onto whatever hope he had.

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You dragged Az with all your strength over to Rhys and Feyre. She seemed to be doing ok despite the arrow still sticking out of her thigh. She had pulled the arrows out of Rhys but he was still very hurt.

"Are you ok to winnow?" You asked Rhys.

"I think so, but I won't be able to carry all three of you." He spoke through pained breaths.

"You don't need to. Just get Feyre and Az out of here." You commanded your High Lord.

You knew that if they stayed, you would all be dead. Rhys couldn't carry all of you in his condition, you just hoped he would listen to what you told him to do.

"What? No, how will you get out?" Azriel whispered from the ground.

"I have a plan." You told him.

"You three can't fight, you will die if you stay here. Winnow them out and get Az to a healer." You told Rhys through your mind.

He seemed to be going back and forth in his head, trying to figure out a different way. He gave you a weary look.

"There's no other way. I'll be ok, you have to go now. They're almost here." You added.

The soldiers came running in, ready to attack. You ran right at them, fighting them so they couldn’t get to the other three. You could hear Az screaming to stay as Rhys grabbed him and winnowed out.

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He had been drunk for three days straight at this point. He welcomed the numbness after all the agony he has felt. Once it was night time, he made his way to your room and sat down outside of your door to sleep, just like he did every night in case you needed him.

In the morning, Feyre passed by your door. Az was still asleep and smelled of booze.

She quietly snuck past him and went into your room.

"Hey, I'm not sure what to say or do to help you. But I wanted to let you know how hard Azriel is trying. I mean...you know that but I just want you to realize how much he loves you. How much we all love you. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened, I wish it had been me instead... but you need to know that Azriel is drowning. He is drowning without you. I have never seen him like this and I think we might lose him for good. If you don't have the strength to fight for yourself, please… fight for him." Feyre pleaded with you.

You didn't respond but what she said stuck with you. You had tried everything but it didn't matter, you couldn't find the strength to help yourself. Maybe it would be easier to find strength for the one you love.

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"We just got word. Y/N is alive and we have her location." Rhys spoke quickly.

Azriel shot up from his spot, getting his weapons ready instantly.

As soon as everyone was set, they left to rescue you. After a couple hours, they found you. You were bloody and bruised all over, chained up. Tears welled up in Azriel's eyes but he focused on saving you. He flew you home and you showed Rhys everything.

Rhys saw how you were tortured, starved, and beat every day. He saw how they questioned you about the Night Court and you never gave up anything. You were held captive for three months…he wasn’t sure how you survived.

After they saved you and found out everything you went through, Azriel helped you bathe. You never talked, just nodded or shook your head and you never looked up. He was so grateful you were safe and back with them but he sure did miss your smile.

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It was a beautiful morning, you sat watching the orange and pink sky as the city woke up. There was a knock at the door and Az walked in. He didn’t speak as he set a tray of breakfast foods and coffee down. You didn’t even look over at him but not because you were still checked out. No, this time it was because you couldn’t pull your eyes from the beauty of the sunrise.

You aren’t exactly sure why but you felt something crack inside of you, this was the first time since you were taken that you felt something positive. It was the first time you wanted to live to see these pink and orange hues again.

When Azriel looked over at you he realized there were tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Are you ok?! What’s wrong!?” He panicked, checking everywhere for threats.

“It’s beautiful.” You choked out in between sobs, pointing at the sunrise.

He let out a breath he had been holding in and visibly relaxed. He sat next to you and pulled you close. You leaned into him and he put his arm around you. Neither of you talked, just enjoyed watching the sky come to life in front of you.

He looked down at you after some time had passed and saw the faintest smile on your face. It was barely there but he saw it and that was all that mattered.

“It’s breathtaking.” Azriel stated.

You shook your head in agreement, but what you didn’t know was that he wasn’t talking about the view, he was talking about you.

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“Please please please!” You begged Azriel.

“You woke me up at 4am to watch the sunrise?!” He mumbled with a look of irritation on his face.

“You have to see it! I promise it’ll be worth it!” You continued to beg.

“Fine but I’m not going to be happy about it.” He grunted as he got out of bed, following you to the balcony.

You pulled him down next to you, the pure excitement and adoration you had for something as simple as a sunrise made the spymaster’s heart clench.

The both of you sat and watched the sunrise and you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Isn’t it so beautiful?” You asked him without taking your eyes from the sky.

“It really is.” He responded without taking his eyes from you.

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[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Heavy

Summary: Reader's having a depressive episode and needs some comfort from her mate

Content Warnings: Depression

Author's Note: I should be finishing my Vamp!Rhys fic but I got sad and wrote this instead

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Velaris is beautiful at night, from the glittering stars overhead, to the soft gurgle of the Sidra rushing over time worn stones beneath the city’s many intricate bridges. The music makes the whole city feel full of light and laughter, couples often dancing and humming in the streets. It’s one of your favorite places to be.

Usually.

Tonight it’s just… there. Though you stand in the heart of it, everything moves around you, never quite touching you. It’s as if you’re suddenly a stranger in the place you love the most, the emotional distance between you palpable.

You jam your hands in your pockets and keep walking, though you’re not really sure where you’re going, your body moving on autopilot. It’s been like that for a couple weeks now, if you’re honest, you’ll be half way through the day sometimes before you realize you’re not sure how or when you even got out of bed, or gotten dressed. Did you even eat? Kiss your mate good morning? Rhys has been working long hours in Illyria lately, most nights you’re already asleep before he’s even tumbling into bed, but, now that you’re thinking about it, that could also be because you’ve been going to sleep earlier too.

You frown at your boots as you walk, trying to remember when this happened. It’s not new, you’ve had bouts of this since you were a teenager, but they’ve been better thanks to regular sessions with Madja and some other healers. Art therapy in the Rainbow has helped too. Usually you can tell when you’re starting to slip into the darker places in your head, but it crept up on you this time.

By the time your mindless wanderings bring you back to the Townhouse, the light from your upstairs bedroom is already on, meaning Rhys somehow finished his business and beat you home. You’d only planned to grab some takeout so you wouldn’t have to cook, and yet, here you stand, hands as empty as your stomach.

The door opens before you can even reach for your key, soft light spilling out into the entryway. “There you are!” Rhys says by way of greeting, as if he’d been waiting by the door for you. Your mate leans in to place a quick peck on your lips as he guides you inside.

“Did you go to Rita’s with Mor?”

He should be able to tell you hadn’t, since you’re wearing the same sweatpants you had been for a week, but then again, he also hasn’t been home enough to know you haven’t changed out of them. 

“No I…” you hate talking about this stuff, hate feeling like you’re burdening anybody with the weight you feel pressing down on your chest. “Uh, went to get dinner.”

Rhys stares down at your empty hands, eyebrows raised teasingly. “Did you forget to bring it back?”

You run a hand over your eyes. Cauldron they’re so heavy! Why is everything always so heavy? Your whole body feels like it’s made of bricks, just the effort to kick off your boots feels like it takes every single drop of energy you have left. “Sorry.” Even speaking feels like too much.

Rhys frowns, “Darling, are you ok?”

“Just tired,” you say, avoiding his eyes now. 

He steps forward, placing a knuckle under your chin and tilting your face towards him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m tired,” you repeat, but your eyes are watering now. 

He stills, violet eyes roaming over you, assessing for the first time tonight how you look, the dark circles under your eyes. He knows you haven’t had trouble sleeping, he’s barely been able to wake you when he comes home at night. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, tears falling in earnest now.

Rhys’s features soften as he lifts you into his arms, the bond flooding with warmth and understanding as he says, “It’s not your fault. You can’t help it.”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you upstairs. “I thought I was doing better… but everything just feels heavy again.”

He kisses your forehead gently as he climbs into bed and settles you down against his chest. Twisting, his wings unfurl so he can curl one around you, cocooning you in the warmth of his body. “What can I do to help?”

You wrap an arm around his waist as you settle your face against his chest, his heartbeat steady and even beneath you. Madja had said once that this was helpful if you got overly anxious, the steadiness of his breathing helping yours level out, and it helps now too, gives you something to focus on. It’s grounding and you let your breathing sync up, your chest rising and falling against his own. Madja hadn’t been able to stress enough how important it was to find something to ground you in the present when you got like this, lest your thoughts start to spiral deeper and deeper into the dark.

“Just need you to hold me for a little while,” you say.

Rhys pulls your favorite blanket up over the two of you before wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love you,” and the bond floods with more warmth than you think you deserve, but it doesn’t let up when those thoughts sneak in. “I’ll do anything you need me to.”

You place a gentle kiss to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replies, fingers tracing shapes in your back. “No one has all good days.”

“But nothing even happened,” you protest. “I just woke up one morning and it was just so heavy to be awake.”

He kisses your temple. “We can see Madja in the morning, if you need, but you can’t beat yourself up. You have no control over it.”

You press your temple into his chest and breath in the jasmine and citrus scent of him. “I hate it.”

He places another kiss to the top of your head. You know he hates it too, hates that it’s a battle he can’t fight for you, no matter how much he wants to. “It will pass.”

Rhys is warm, his presence soothing, the darkness that seeps from his skin on the days he hasn’t had the time to expel enough of it, drifting over your body in soothing motions. This is safe and quite and peaceful. Your body starts to settle more and more as time goes on.

“Do you really believe that?” You whisper. “That it’ll pass?”

“Yes,” he says. “It has before, and it will again.” Knowing he’s had the experience himself, you’re inclined to believe he’s right.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” you admit. 

Rhys holds you a little tighter, “Till all the stars fall from the sky, my love.” He holds you all night, whispering all the things he loves about you as you start to fall asleep.

You let yourself fall into it, hoping tomorrow will be better.

[artists-ally]

Can you please write some more Azriel smut with his mate thank you !!!

{Bow} Reader x Azriel

Oh babes, you ask and you shall receive. Y'all went fucking BANANAS with my last Az smut, so here ya go you filthy sluts (i'm the filthiest slut there is i write this shit) Also you cannot convince me that Az isn't a dom. Enjoy!! Title from this song

Word Count: 2,869

Warnings: smut, spanking, spitting, choking, praise kink, breeding kink, possessive behavior, bondage, dom/sub vibes

Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022

Summary: Azriel goes a little feral after the mating bond snaps into place.

~~~~~

I knew it was going to happen. I could feel it coming. Just one of those once-in-a-lifetime feelings when you just know something is going to happen. There wasn’t anything I could do to warn Az since he was on the other end of the continent in Illyria. 

But my bones buzzed when he told me he was coming home. It was just a caress down the bond, a flicker of his shadow around my hand to let me know, but it was intense. I didn’t know if he knew or not, but I certainly did. 

“Okay, why are you pacing around?” Mor snapped me out of my thoughts. 

“I think it’s going to happen. Like today,” I said through a hurried breath. Mor squealed and I flinched, the sound doing nothing to help the vein pulsing in my head. 

“Oh my gods oh my gods I cannot believe it!” She jumped up and down. “Finally.”

“Hey,” I frowned slightly. “It’s not our fault. And we both agreed we’d wait until it felt right to pursue it. Who knew it would take two and a half years.”

“Can I say how proud of you I am for waiting? I could never be that patient,” Mor grabbed me by my shoulders. “I am so happy for you, Yn. No one in Prythian deserves this more than you two.” “Thanks,” I smiled sweetly, taking her hands in mine. I inhaled sharply and let it out. “What do I do?”

“You need to make him something to eat,” Mor hurried out, dragging me out of the living room of the Townhouse and into the kitchen. “What’s his favorite thing to eat?”

I thought for a moment, stuffing down the urge to say me and trying to think of a legit response. “He has always loved those pork dumplings I made for Solstice one year.”

“Perfect,” Mor ran around and grabbed the ingredients I listed off. “Let's make this the most memorable meal of his life!”

For about an hour I kneaded and folded the little dumplings into half circles, filling them with pork and vegetables before sealing them and dropping them in a pan. I was filled with so much excitement that the normally terrifying process of splattering oil didn't faze me. It was so hard to think about anything other than Azriel and what we’d do later tonight. Hopefully, anyway. 

I remember what Feyre told me about her and Rhys. What Cassian said about him and Nesta. That it had been a fury of teeth and tongues and touches. That there wasn’t any time to be wasted. The want. The primal need for each other and how brutal it was. But how satisfying and soul-bonding it was. 

Quite literally.

I finished the last of them up, plating the others for when he got home. He was getting closer; the shadow he always left me with was writhing between my fingers, circling around my wrist. 

“Okay, I will make sure everything is tidy and then I’m gone. And I will make sure no one comes within a three mile radius of this place for the next week. Or until you send word Azriel isn’t going to rip someone's head off.”

I rolled my eyes, “We’ll be fine. He’s almost here so get out.” “Good luck,” she winked, disappearing behind the corner. The front door opened and closed and I watched her winnow away. 

Why am I so nervous? It isn’t like it’s our first date all over again. He has seen the most intimate parts of my body, the most intricate parts of my mind and yet I was shivering with anticipation. Not nerves– excitement. 

I can hear the mighty beat of his wings as he approaches, and I see him land in the back garden, pushing his wind-blown hair off his forehead. My heart is at a furious pace. Gods he looks… it’s like I’m seeing him all over again. For the first time. All those thoughts and feelings rushing into me. 

There isn’t a fucking doubt in my mind that this is going to happen. 

Azriel draws open the back door and turns his head to the left, then to the right to find me motionless in the kitchen. “Yn…”

He says my name in the same breathless way he has since he learned what it was years ago. Our eyes lock and he shuts the door behind him. Azriel doesn’t waste a single second, scooping me up and drawing me in tight against his chest. He smells of the slight salt and lemon of the Sidra, but deep down his natural, rugged scent washes over me. 

“I have to stop taking such long trips to the Camp,” Azriel grumbles a laugh, pressing his lips to the top of my head. He takes a deep breath, then releases it. When I don’t respond– or chuckle alongside him– he draws back. “Yn?”

All I can do is look at him. His eyes are impossibly green at this moment. All the flecks of gold and amber igniting them. My chest is tight and the edges of my control are slipping. 

He furrows his brows, “Is everything…” And the words die on his tongue. 

It’s like Prythian tilts and slides into the sea. Down down down we go with it. I might’ve actually gasped with the crack that formed in my chest, breath still in my throat. 

It’s not the shimmering gold or tether of silver Feyre and Nesta had described. It is an inky black tendril of shadow that I can see, that I can feel, as clear as day. And right there, tied to the other end, is Azriel. Mate mate mate is the only hum I feel besides the roar of hope. Of promise. Of forever. 

Azriel shudders a breath, staggering a step back, eyes blinking as rapidly as his chest moves. His hands are digging into the sides of my arms. “Y-Yn-”

“I feel it,” I finished his unasked question. I nod again, forcing myself to believe that this is actually happening. He nods back, eyes never leaving mine. “I thought that I could feel it coming. Like- like this huge build up in my chest and… almost like a doorway? Like I could see the door but didn’t quite know how to unlock it.”

Azriel doesn’t say anything for a long few beats. “Mates…”

I nod. “Mates.”

It’s like saying it outloud solidified it because only after that did the burn for him become unbearable. It was untamed and wild and feral, just like Feyre had said it would be. Before we wrecked everything in the kitchen, I dropped his hands from my body and walked to the counter. 

I held out the plate of homemade dumplings and presented them to Azriel. His eyes looked from the plate and back up to me. 

He looked hungry. Not for the dumplings– most definitely not for the dumplings. I wonder what it feels like for him. If he’s as desperate as I am. As eager and impatient. If he can barely stand the two feet between us like I do. 

Azriel’s fingers are trembling as he plucks one of the dumplings off the plate and brings it to his mouth. In any other scenario I’d find it weird as he doesn’t look away while he chews… but his scent is driving me in-fucking-sane and I can't look away. 

I think it’s safe to say that he doesn’t taste it, practically swallowing it whole. The plate of dumplings are on the floor the next second and a gasp leaves my mouth. His hand is fisted in my hair, mouth covering mine. 

Fuck me. Feyre wasn’t joking about everything feeling different. About feeling better. 

I pressed onto my toes and looped my arm around the back of his neck. He grabbed the backs of both my thighs and hauled me onto his hips. 

“Mate,” Azriel growled out. “My mate, my mate.”

My ass hit the counter and the canister of spoons and utensils crashed to the floor. I went to look, but Az gripped my throat and forced me to look back at him. He looked wild. Like pure instinct had taken over. 

“Az-”

“You’re fucking mine,” he spoke through clenched teeth. “All fucking mine.”

“All yours, Az,” I breathed out, his thumb pulling down my bottom lip. I sucked on it, tears springing into my eyes when he shoved it further down my throat. I watched the grin spread across his face. “All mine,” I said with equal possession. 

“Only you have that power now, Yn. The power to bring me to my knees. I do not bend to anyone except you. Always you. Forever you.”

My heart swelled before his lips were back on mine, tongue curling with mine in haste. His hands worked their way down my thighs, spreading them apart. I shuddered at the feeling of him against my core, cock already hard and pulsing against me. 

His scent– lightning hot with a touch of cinnamon– cascaded around me, blooming into the air and making my body react in a way I didn’t know it could. I scratched at the edges of his fighting leathers, desperate for his body against mine. Azriel reached for the straps, sliding them through the buckles with five centuries of experience and effortless precision. 

The material gave away and fell to the floor and there was nothing but his tattooed skin in my hands. Nails clawing up his back and shoulders, I couldn’t get closer if I tried. I needed closer. I Needed him inside me like I needed water or the sun. 

My body was thinking for me, hands fumbling with my bottoms as he ripped off his. Even as much as I didn’t want to draw away from his mouth, I couldn’t help the curiosity to look at him. 

I dipped my eyes down, seeing a few beads of slick slip from his body, coating the tip of him. I reached down, even more desperate for a taste than I had been for the feeling of his lips on mine. 

Az watched with a predatory look etched in his eyes. I gathered it and brought my finger to my mouth, the taste of him settling in my bones. He tasted how he always did, but there was just something more satisfying about it now. The confirmation that for the rest of our lives I would be able to have every part of him. Whenever I wanted. 

He couldn’t wait. And I didn’t blame him. In another heartbeat I was flipped over and on my stomach, knees knocking into the cabinet below. His hands tore the rest of the material from my body and the scraps gave away. 

He was panting. I’ve never heard him be this vocal. Or this destructive. “Hold still.” He commanded, pressing on the middle of my back to get me to stop squirming.

I obeyed. 

His hands spread my ass apart and I heard his tongue working in his mouth. I gasp when he spits onto my already soaked cunt, spreading it around with his fingers. He lands a crack to my ass with his palm next and I grit my teeth together, whining when he does it again. 

“Fucking mine,” He snarls, and I feel the tip of his chock slide over my clit. There is the familiar sting that comes with his size as he presses all the way in, not giving me the time to adjust like he normally would. 

But Cauldron damn me if I actually cared. I need him inside me. Need to feel every inch of his length until I couldn’t feel him at all. 

My body was vibrating, as was his. He pulled out and rocked back in, nails dragging down my spine. He let out a dark laugh, void of any real tenderness. “Gods I am going to fucking ruin you, Yn. Yeah you like that don’t you? Fuck.”

I cried out. My body was on fire. Every single hair on my skin stood up on end as he claimed me. Every part of my mind and body and soul melded together with Azriels with each snap of his hips. 

It was not soft. Or sweet. Or comfortable. We were both satisfying an ancient need for each other in every way possible. That door with his shadow leading me was wide open, and it was like I could see into his mind. Through his eyes, I looked at my marked body.

The noises tore through me as did my release. I convulsed around him, arching up and into the momentum as he rocked into me. In seconds I was lifted off the counter, still shuddering around his cock when we landed on the floor. 

Azriel hauled my ass into the hollow of his hips and hit places so deep inside me I didn’t know how to breathe. 

He was a panting, shaking mess behind me. 

“Mine,” he murmured against my neck, teeth grazing the skin. “You’re doing such a good job, taking my cock like that.”

I whimpered as he forced my hips to meet his. He leaned over my body and I felt a few drops of sweat trickle onto my skin. He pushed my chest flat against the floor and I wasn’t entirely sure that my spine wasn’t going to break with the force. With one hand pinning my shoulder, the other ripped my hair back, creating the most painful yet pleasurable angle. 

Shadows whirled around my body, ghosting every inch to stimulate me beyond anything I thought possible. All reason left my mind. I was his, and he was mine. His body, his soul… it was all mine. He was giving himself to me, just like I was giving myself to him. 

Every push of his body into mine drew sounds I didn’t know we could make. At this angle I could feel how much bigger he was than me. Knowing that if he wanted to he could easily over power my body without lifting a finger. 

For a second time my body overtook my mind, leaving me no choice to follow its lead. I shook and cried out, chanting his name over and over again as I came a second time in only a few minutes. 

“Fucking look at you,” Azriel said, easing up on his lod of my hair. “Taking my cock like it’s nothing. You are doing such a good job, Yn. Gonna fucking breed you. Aww, you’d like that, hmm? I can feel you clenching, feel how much you want it.”

I nodded, not able to form any words. 

Azriel turned me over on my back and pinned my knees to the floor with his shadows. That same darkness curled around my wrists and sealed them above my head while his hands worked my nipples, my clit. 

I couldn’t thrash even if I wanted to. His teeth left marks along my chest, the muscles in his shoulders rippling as he forced his cock into me at a brutal pace. 

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “F-fuck yes, Gods you feel so fucking hot.”

I did my best to tighten around him, and judging by the way his hips stuttered, I did a good job. The muscles around his ribs and abdomen flared, the veins in his arms pushing to the surface. 

“I can’t-” he heaved for a breath, mumbling curses and pleas. “Can’t hold on anymore.”

“Let go,” I beg, new tears spilling down my cheeks. “Fill me up.”

Azriel was a mess of gasping breaths and praise as he focused all his motion. Every hard ridge of his body was constricted and convulsing with power as he cursed again, head dipped low, breath fanning over my chest and neck. 

My mind melted as I felt the bond snap into place even deeper. There had been a mental connection earlier, but this was the physical side. Azriel’s front draped over mine as he came deep inside me, his thighs shaking as he fucking into me over and over and over, cum trickling out with each new push of his cock into my aching cunt. 

“That’s a good girl… there you go,” he slurred his words, drunk off the feeling of his release. I could feel it as if it was my own. Feel his claim on my body as if it was my own. “Take it all. All fucking mine. Such a good mate. Taking all my cum so fucking good.”

I moaned, fingers and toes tingling as he took his weight off my chest and sat up. Sweat gleamed his body. My eyes were blurry, but I could still see the need in his eyes. 

I swallowed, the high of it all settling in. His hands roamed over my body, up around the creases of my still bound thighs, and up my sides. 

After a few more short gasps, his hand was gripping my chin. “I am not letting you out of the fucking bed until no one is able to tell our scents apart again. Everyone is gonna know that you’re mine. My mate, and everyone will know I am yours.”

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember Me? (Part 14)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: (￣y▽￣)╭ Ohohoho.....

thats all i got to say

(also, consider this a peace offering after the cliffhanger of the previous part 😏)

enjoy!

•○🌑○•

"What do you mean you can't find Nyx?" Eris questioned, stepping forward to address Feyre properly while Y/n simply stared at her.

"He- he was with me in my room. But then I got up to wash my hands because there was paint on them, and when I returned, he was nowhere to be seen."

"Did you ask his maid?"

"Yes. She has not seen him since after she left him with me." Feyre glanced at Y/n with tears in her eyes, her lower lip wobbling.

Y/n reached out, tugging Feyre into a hug. The moment Feyre's head made contact with Y/n's shoulder, her tears began flowing.

Y/n felt numb, her worries raging in the back of her mind. There was only questions swirling through her head, and the answer to all those question echoing in her head.

What if it is Rhys? What if her somehow broke through the wards? Is he here to take Nyx away for some sick scheme of his?

And as she pondered about the situation, she became all the more confident in her answer.

I will go with him. Offer myself up so he would let Nyx go.

After all, it was her own fault that Feyre and Nyx's life had been ruined. If she had not went to Velaris, everyone would have been living happily.

She could not take Fin with her, but she was sure Eris would take care of him.

"Everything will be fine, Feyre. I will send out as many guards as it takes to search for him. I'm sure he will be found. Maybe he has only gone wandering into a nearby forest."

Feyre sniffled against Y/n, and that brought her back to the present.

Before Y/n could reassure Feyre too, two thuds sounded. And, turning her head to look, she found herself staring at two Illyrians and a female, all staring wide eyed at the scene before them.

Y/n's brows furrowed before she realised that these people were a part of the Night Court.

She swallowed, rubbing Feyre's back.

"Feyre?" The blonde female spoke up, causing Feyre to startle and glance up. Whatever colour was left on her face drained, and she glanced around, probably thinking of a way to escape.

When she found nothing, she turned back to the three people, offering something that looked more like a grimace than a smile.

"Hello." Feyre fiddled with her fingers, doing everything to not meet their eyes.

"Why?" It was the one with red gems adorning his form that spoke up, emotion evident in his voice.

Feyre sighed, opening her mouth to speak, but before she could, the other Illyrian, who had blue gems on his form, advanced menacingly.

He made his way straight towards Eris, and, panicked, Y/n wrapped her hand around Eris's bicep and pulled him closer. She did not know what she was hoping it would do to help, but at least it calmed her down.

And it also made the illyrian slow down a little, even though his eyes looked murderous.

"Why did you bring her here? So you could-"

"Azriel." Feyre called, stopping the male from advancing further. He turned to glance at her.

"I... I came of my own free will."

"But why?" Cried the blonde female.

Feyre rubbed her temples. "I will tell you, but not now. After the meeting. I will tell you all of what happened."

The other Illyrian, the one with the red gems, took a few steps forward to engulf Feyre in a hug. "It's okay. You can tell us whenever you feel comfortable."

"Thank you, Cassian."

The illyrian whose name was Azriel nodded, and the blonde woman looked away, but not before Y/n spied tears in her eyes.

She felt bad for them, as Feyre had been their family and they had been left in the dark for so long.

Feyre pulled back from the hug as if she remembered something. "Please don't tell Rhys where I am."

Everyone nodded, before Cassian grinned.

"So. Where is my nephew?"

A new rush of tears flooded Feyre's eyes.

"He is missing. I was trying to search for him just before you showed up."

The smile dropped from Cassian's face, and he turned to look at Azriel.

And then, a sound that had everyone going rigid and sighing in relief at the same time came from outside the huge doors, and both Fere and Y/n rushed forward.

And there, sat on a golden beast's head, was a giggling Nyx.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Eris Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @tele86

Remember me Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii @anuttellaa @coisas-da-dani @hnyclover @sassyslytherinshai @historygeekqueen @why4anne @mybestfriendmademe @going-through-shit @thisblogisaboutabook @thehighlordishere

[feyrescourt]

The shit people say about, and project onto Feyre and Rhys, will always be the #1 reason I hate this fandom.

Anti elriels are a point of contention for me but everything they believe is so baseless and this has been proven time and time again over the years. The only reason gwynriels have existed as long as they have is because we haven’t received a new book in 4 years. But best believe that if we did and there was another side character introduced they’d switch up for the 600th time lol.

No, the Feyre and Rhys hate is my line in the sand. If you’re someone who crosses it, I do NOT fuck with you.

I have seen so many weirdos on this app and tiktok project their internalized misogyny onto Feyre for becoming a mother, make fun of her not being literate in the first two books, diminish her skills as an artists, call her selfish and arrogant, and find ways to make everything that’s ever happened to other characters, Feyre’s fault.

Feyre went her entire life not knowing what love was, was never shown it. She was emotionally abused by her mother until she died, that abuse was the carried on by nesta for another 10 years, and then when she was taken from her family, was subjected to DV for months. Never experiencing love was the reason she couldn’t solve the riddle in book one. Then finally, after 20 years, she finds people who show and give her unconditionally love. In return she becomes their family and their high lady, and every thing she does for the rest of her life is for them, for her court, family, and mate.

Then she decides that she does want to become a mother. That she doesn’t want to keep waiting on life regardless of the fact that she is immortal. She’s waited on other people and circumstances her entire life and she doesn’t want to cast aside her desires any longer.

Any anyone who uses this against her does not fundamentally understand Feyre and you choose to be intentionally ignorant in your assessment and characterization of her.

As for Rhys hate, this is clearly only popular because he loves his mate and doesn’t take shit from anyone who’s abused her or was complicit in her abuse. He has also suffered at the hands of other people for decades. He was assaulted and violated for 50 years as a form of retaliation against the decisions his father he made in time of war, which mind you, Rhys himself had NO control over. In the end, he always first and foremost a dreamer. Only ever wanted to do his part in rebuilding the world to be a safe place for everyone in it. Not just for his court, but all courts, those on the continent, and in the human lands. He died for it. What did your faves do?

I’ll always defend and love feysand because they’re the heart and soul of this series. Neither of them deserve the psychotic hate that is spread about them in online acotar circles. And if anyone says “they’re just fictional characters” “they’re not real” then why the fuck do you speak about them in such a vile way as if they are and are the worst people to ever exist?

If you are a feysand hater, I don’t fuck with you. Period.

[gingersnaptaff]

Nest of Deheubarth and Gwenllian ferch Gruffudd ap Cynan

Lemme talk about two fabulous Welsh women who deserve to be yelled about more because they occupy fascinating roles in Welsh history and also they were SISTERS-IN-LAW. If they'd met I do think they would have a very Morgan Le Fay and Guinevere relationship (without the casual murder? Hmm.)

Anyways, Nest of Deheubarth (Also known as Nesta, or Annest, was the 'Helen of Wales,' which, seriously, we gotta stop appellating Helen of Troy to women whose beauty starts wars. It is a handy metric, but, like, neither were THEIR FAULT.) daughter of Rhys ap Tewdwr - yes, as in the Tudors. They have links to them through Rhys' son, Gruffudd - and Gwladys ferch Rhiwallon ap Cynfyn of Powys. (Said it before will say it again intermarriage between Gwynedd, Deheubarth, and Powys is super common.)

(This is Nest with Henry II. Note how they both have crowns on in bed. Like, I know it's to telegraph they're royal but like imagine them kissing. *clang* sorry, my crown keeps slipping off my head *clang* sŵs.)

Anyways, born in about 1085 (give or take) Nest was Princess of Deheubarth. Normally, this would entail being married to another Welsh royal family - and possibly your cousin, yeesh - but, sadly (or happily depending on your view) this was not to be the case for Nest.

Her father, Rhys, was King of Deheubarth until 1093. Deheubarth had largely been left untouched by the Normans thanks to a peacy treaty brokered by Rhys and thr King of England William Rufus but, sadly, Henry I soon put a stop to that after his brother, William Rufus' death. (For those wondering he got shot in an arrow in the New Forest. Some say Henry did it so he could assume the throne)

Rhys perished in battle at Breacon against Bernard de Neufmarche's forces, with him being beheaded at Penrhys in Rhondda Cynon Taf (Penrhys literally means Rhys' head.) Brut Y Tywysogion records: 'Rhys ap Tewdwr, king of Deheubarth, was slain by the Frenchmen who were inhabiting Brycheiniog, and with him fell the kingdom of the Britons' His death allowed the Normans to take Deheubarth unopposed and they wouldn't even begin to break their yoke until Gwenllian.

Anyways, Nest, her mother, her half-brothers, and her sisters were captured by the Normans once they'd murdered Rhys and were sent to either prison or the Anglo-Norman court to live as hostages to prevent any further rebellions. Meanwhile, Nest's younger brother, Gruffydd, was spirited away to Ireland (more about him later!).

But even there Nest wouldn't exactly be allowed to fly under the radar. She grew into a beauty - don't all captured foreign historical women, honestly? Like, grim - and caught the eye of Henry I, becoming his mistress, bearing him a son -- also called Henry* as it goes. See, having the same name as your dad is just a Welsh trait, ngl.

Soon after, in around about 1102 but possibly later, and once Henry I had dealt with some rebellions from his subjects (namely Robert de Bellême) he married Nest off to Gerald FitzWalter who was the constable of Pembroke Castle, purely cuz he sided with him. Nest's feelings are not recorded in history, but I'd imagine she was both delighted to be going home to Wales and distraught that she was married to a Norman lord who'd had a hand in subjugating her country.

Either way, with her marriage to Gerald she was both seen as a Norman - as were her sons, collectively known as the Geraldines, famous for subjugating Ireland, and nephew, Gerald of Wales - and as a figurehead for Welsh resistance.

And it's this that gives her the claim for being the Helen of Wales. Now, various reports of how shit went down are given but the facts are thus: in either 1106 or 1109 her cousin, Owain ap Cadwgan, Prince of Powys, kidnapped Nest and her sons. Gerald escaped either by escaping down the latrine (smelly toilet pit) or fighting his way out. Some say this was during an Eisteddfod given by Owain's dad, some say this was at Cilgerran Castle, a Norman castle that Gerald had built. Idk. Either way, she was once again, a hostage. Kari L. Maude says Owain was 'overcome by her [Nest's] charm,' but, equally, he could've been making a point of raiding the castle to spite a Norman and carrying off his cousin to try and force the Welsh to rebel. 'What is clear,' Maund further writes, 'Is that Owain was engaged on a consistent campaign against the Norman colonies in Wales.'

(OR, Nest had engineered the whole affair deliberately cuz she and Owain were lovers. There is talk that Owain was gonna be betrothed to Nest before everything that occurred but that is spurious speculation so idk. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.)

ANYWAYS. The earliest account of this shenaniganery we have is by Caradoc of Llancarfan which relates that: 'At the instigation of the Devil, he [Owain] was moved by passion and love for the woman, and with a small company with him...he made for the castle by night.' Once he'd done this he took Nest and her kids to a hunting lodge by the Eglwyseg Rocks north of Llangollen, presumably to live in what he thought was relative peace.

Hoo boi, he was WRONG. The abduction of Nest, done with her consent or not, aroused the wrath of both the Normans (for obvious reasons those HEIRS ARE NORMAN-BLOODED GIVE THE SONS BACK) and the Welsh (I guess because this was seen as a Welshman abducting a Princess of Deheubarth? Unsure.) Either way, the Normans bribed Owain's Welsh enemies to attack him which they did. (Pls remember that the Powysians hated Deheubarthians and Gwyddelians hated them both ect, etc.)

Owain's dad throughout all of this desperately tried to persuade his son to give Nest back ('Pls, pls, pls, Owain, your himbo arse has gotten us into SO MUCH SHIT!' I can imagine him saying. This does, however, ignore the fact that Cadwgan himself was sanctioning his son's raids.) With Owain just brushing him off. Nest, once again, saves a man's life and entreats Owain: 'If you would have me stay with you and be faithful to you, then send my children home to their father.'

Owain did so, but before long, both he and his dad were then obliged to seek safety in Ireland lest further attacks were made on them. Nest was also returned to her husband. Whether willingly or not idk but yeah.

Now, by this time (1112), her brother Gruffudd had returned from his sojourn in Ireland and was trying to drum up support to get Deheubarth back under his rule, particularly with the aid of the King of Gwynedd, Gruffudd ap Cynan, who would ultimately become Gruffydd's father-in-law when Gruffydd married his daughter, Gwenllian 🥳🥳🥳. It's interesting to imagine that Nest was giving her brother a hand in this but we have no textual support to say so. Tbf, perhaps she did and she was just so good at doing it that it's just remained undetected for hundreds of years. 🤷🏻‍♀️

War broke out between Gruffydd and the Normans. Gruffydd, expecting to have his inheritance given to him and no liking to hear the word 'NO' yelled at him Henry I with a fuckin megaphone, fuckin burned Carmarthen and then destroyed Arberth in 1115, alongside 'members of the younger nobility'. (As he should, in all honesty.)

Owain ap Cadwgan who had, by this time, tootled back from Ireland, been PARDONED BY THE KING (Henry I, that is.), and became prince of Powys after his dad was ASSASSINATED (Assassin's Creed: Powys edition when?) Obliged by Henry I to rendezvous with a Norman force to proceed against Gruffydd, Owain found himself meeting up with Nest's husband, Gerald.

( Sjdjxjxjddkxj Could not make that up. Sounds like a Hollyoaks episode.)

Gerald, wanting to fuckin Murk Owain for what he did to his kids and wife, proceeded to Murk Owain. I do honestly feel like Gerald also thought 'If he kills my bro-in-law my wife will fuckin KILL ME.' so I respect this for being In Fear of his wife.

Gerald himself died in 1135, yet Nest delightfully, was still going. She married Robert FitzStephen, having another kid to the five she'd already had with Gerald, including the mother of my arch-nemesis Gerald of Wales, Angharad.

It isn't known when she died but it's estimated that it was about 1135/1136, thus allowing her to see the start of her brother and sister-in-law's rebellion that would eventually put the land that the Normans had so cruelly taken from the back into the hands of their family.

A note:

*Henry would later be killed in Ynys Môn during a battle against Nest's brother-in-law Owain Gwynedd, coincidently led by Owain's son - and my fuckin pookie - Hywel ab Owain Gwynedd. Apparently, again according to the Brut, Henry died 'by a shower of lances.'

Up next: Gwenllian!!!!!!!

Sadly we have no drawings of Gwenllian, but that's okay cuz artists are more than up to the challenge. Also, idk why but the fact that she has red hair is generally accepted even though we don't know how she looked. I guess it's because bravery is telegraphed as red, or at least fieryness which, ngl, she defo was.

Born in about 1097, Gwenllian was the daughter of the King of Gwynedd, Gruffudd ap Cynan, and his wife, Angharad ferch Owain.

Gwynedd, at this time, was perhaps the most stable of the Welsh kingdoms, although Gruffudd ap Cynan HAD had to battle like fuck to free Gwynedd from the Normans before he could even sit on the throne. (He got thrown in Chester for a time and had to be rescued by a very tall man called Cynwrig. Will do a post on him because he's FUN) so rebellion is very much in Gwenllian's blood. We don't know much about her childhood although we can assume it was happy and filled with the various activities of a Welsh Princess.

Still, that would soon shift.

Gwenllian, at around about thirteen /fourteen or so (remember girls became women when they reached 14 under Welsh law), soon became involved with Gruffydd ap Rhys after her father hosted him when Gruffydd was hoping to summon up aid for his Getting Rid of the Normans scheme.

Unfortunately for Gruffydd - who I will now call Griff so as not to confuse with Gruffudd ap Cynan - this place at the Gwyddelian court became tenuous. Gruffudd ap Cynan, unwilling to further inflame tensions with the Normans after he'd just recovered Ynys Môn (Anglesey) from them and now ruled kinda peacefully, elected to hand Griff over to them. Somehow - probably through Gruffudd ap Cynan's nobles - news of this rescued Griff and he once again left for Deheubarth.

Only he wouldn't travel alone.

Gwenllian, unwilling to let the man she loved slip away, eloped with him and became his wife. They soon became 'the Robin Hood's of Wales' as Philip Warner writes and set about killing the Normans. Griff, emboldened by his and his wife's success hastened to meet with his father-in-law, Gruffudd ap Cynan, in an effort to get troops.

So, Gwenllian was left to helm her husband's forces by herself. To be fair to her SHE DID. AND honestly, this is why she's compared to 'Buddug' or Bouddica. Normans led raids a just as she and Griff had done against them- and she was compelled to rise an army for Deheubarth's defense.

The Great Revolt of 1136, as it was known, was to be Gwenllian's last conflict for she and two of her sons, Maredudd and Maelwgyn were beheaded by the Normans after their forces were routed at Cydweli Castle. Yet Gwenllian would not be forgotten. Her youngest son, the Lord Rhys, would become Prince of Deheubarth and recover much of the territory that had once been their family's. And Nest? Well, Griff had sent time in her and Gerald's castles as he went about letting how to get Dejeubarth back. It's tempting to think that she and Gwenllian met.

Also, Dr Andrew Breeze HAS argued that Gwenllian is the author of the Mabinogi because much of the action takes place in Gwynedd and Deheubarth where Gwenllian was based. Might it have been a tract to inspire people to rebellion? Or for women to know their worth? It's tempting but we'll never know. We can only guess. All we can say is 'Dial Achos Gwenllian!'

(That's Revenge for Gwenllian btw. Long may she reign, as it were.)

[lovemyromance]

if the cauldron was wrong do you think that means Nesta and Cassian's bond is also fake?

I already kind of made a post on this here

But the tldr version is we don't 100% know where mating bonds come from. Like can we say they all come from the cauldron? The Mother? Both? We haven't been given enough information to accurately conclude anything.

My theory was that if the cauldron does give out mating bonds, then I believe only Elucien's bond is cauldron-given.

They Feysand bond snapped into place and was accepted before they even got near the Cauldron. Cassian was drawn to and showed a clear attraction for Nesta when she was still human, before she went into the cauldron. In the Nessian bonus chapter, we can see Cassian shows mate behavior and that extreme protectiveness towards Nesta. If both their bonds/relationships were in place before the Cauldron incident, I drew the conclusion that perhaps the Feysand & Nessian bonds are not from the Cauldron, even if Nesta also went inside it.

The Elucien bond did not snap into place until after Elain emerged from the cauldron. She was plenty distressed and panicked before she went into the Cauldron, and yet no extreme protectiveness surged out from Lucien. Yes, he did protest. But so did Tamlin. So did Rhys. Cassian. Feyre. Mor. Basically everyone there was protesting, so no, Lucien's specific protest did not stand out as "mate behavior".

Now, I will say we don't know if Elucien had met prior to the Cauldron incident, something might've snapped in place before then. But SJM did not write it that way. They are the only couple whose bond was revealed before they had a chance to fall in love naturally. That in itself is sus as hell?

Not to mention, the Elucien bond is not written like the Feysand and Nessian bonds. Nesta, even though she was at Cassian's throat, was ready to die with him. Rhys was ready to die with Feyre, even before he knew that was his mate.

Elain doesn't want anything to do with Lucien, and it's been three books. Every interaction is described as awkward and uncomfortable. SJM went out of her way to show us the Elucien bond is different - its not her fault half the fandom isn't picking up what she's been putting down for three books now.

[feyreandhercourt]

My thoughts on HOFAS, ft. SPOILERS

Overall, I will say I think this was a very well "written" book craft-wise. Like better than HOSAB and ACOSF, imo.

Okay Bryce telling Hunt “thinking about you getting tortured was hard for me!!!” was a… choice. If fated mates could divorce, I’d be filing

Honestly all around. They are my least favorite but before I attributed it to just not being into Hunt. But honestly they just seemed to be on different pages.

Where was Fury?????????????????????

Okay the hand thing was brutal but well played

Lidia was great. Also I recognized the Brann thing when he was introduced and was very proud of myself because I never make the connections lol

But I did think he might be like OG Brannon… the fact he’s not still has me interested

The bonus chapters were decent generally. Az and Nesta were likeable in them which makes me hopeful because Az’s LAST bonus chapter was Not A Good Look (tm)

Tell me how Feyre beat the Midgardden wyrm or whatever with a bone and yet Az and Nesta couldn’t. Nothing but respect for MY high lady

Speaking of, Theia really went the tradwife route and said no more high ladies tee hee only men should rule, huh?

Did Sigfrid or whatever even matter?

Ariadne felt like the opposite of Chekov’s gun. You have a DRAGON and a lot of fire and girlie is MIA

Ithan becoming Prime when the boy has zero main character energy was… meh.

Getting their powers back was AWESOME though am I forgetting something or did that not happen to Bryce? It felt like a copout but maybe I missed it?

The Theia/Silene reveals were interesting but lmao Nesta and Bryce kept talking shit during them which was both funny and just… repetitive

Bryce seemed to CONSTANTLY making inappropriate wisecracks. Like I don’t mean with the king but like when Lydia’s sons were captured or whatever??? not necessarily that but similar. Like girl there are times to be serious.

Ruhb SHOOTING LYDIA IN THE LEG while they are in enemy territory was one of the DUMBEST things going. But ya know what I need a couple to root for and Juniper/Lydia had no page time so they get a pass

Um. So we’re just not gonna address the Rhys/Ruhn twinsie connection?????

Tharion really made the bold choice to just… exist.

Also not the book’s fault but the video thing lmao would SO be disbelieved with where AI is today and that was all I could think when they released it

The Urd/Wyrd thing was a facepalmer that I liked

Wehb ACOWARA came out, a blogger (who posts great takes) was annoyed Feyre reused the starfall dress because that was a major royalty faux pas. That’s how I felt when Bryce used the mask.

People said things felt “too easy” but I don’t think that was an issue. Like QOS was “easier” but it’s one of the most beloved SJM books. I think the real issue is people didn’t feel connected and SJM had a few too many instances of explicitly saying “they didn’t know what they were doing but they did it by instinct”

GIVE ME MY FIRE BREATHING BITCH QUEEN WITH HER POWERS BACK PLEASE

SJM is 100000% going to write another TOG book and I am so ready. Those do. Not. Miss.

As ever, (and I had the same issue with Marvel) the issue with these multiverse things for me personally is I read some really fantastic theories that make a TON of sense, get excited for them, and then when they’re either not present or not present but with no explanation or a worse one, I wind up disappointed.

I’d say this is my second favorite CC book. I did think it was well-written though. And I know some were upset not to have ACOTAR POVs (okay me too lol) but I do think it makes sense to keep it as Bryce’s book. Except it’s more “Bryce and Friends” than Bryce.

[nocasdatsgay]

The Price You Pay For Power Ch. 4

Pairing: Neris | Chapter Rating: T | Word Count: 2443

Story Summary: Eris revises his bargain with Rhysand: Nesta for Autumn Healers. He agrees and Nesta is sent to Autumn under the guise as Eris’s new bride in order to assist with removing Beron for good. Now she has to navigate a new court and also decide just how much she will trust her new husband.

CW: Beron, Vanserra brothers acting out of pocket, implied abuse

Chapter Summary: Nesta learns Lucien lore and has dinner with the Vanserras

MasterPost | Read it here on AO3 | Previous Chapter

or read below

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nesta slapped him the moment the door shut to her chambers. She went to slap him again but he grabbed her wrist. His hard amber gaze would have made her wither if she wasn’t so livid. 

“I will take the first one, but you will not hit me again.” He lowered her arm and let go. His expression unchanged like he was carved from stone. 

That didn’t damper the rage inside her. “Beron planned to turn me over to Briallyn.”

“I would not have brought you here if I thought it was a possibility.” He walked towards the wall of shelves. 

“How do you know he won’t change his mind?” 

“I told him a week ago you accepted my proposal.” He stopped and looked back at Nesta with a smirk. “He would not have allowed us to spend money on a wedding that wouldn’t happen.” 

Nesta tilted her head, her voice was a hiss as she spoke through clenched teeth. “You told him I accepted a week ago?” 

Eris shrugged, perfect picture of nonchalance. “You said yourself Rhysand was looking for a reason to get rid of you. So I took a risk. It obviously paid off.” He cut his eyes to her, a smirk still gracing his lips. “You are much more cunning than they give you credit for. You did a very good job of mixing lies with truth. Even I was almost convinced.” 

He turned and narrowed his gaze at the empty fireplace. He threw flames into it and she waited for them to start crackling and popping. The noise never came. Eris placed his hands behind his back and turned to her again. He slowly walked back towards her, eying her over again. 

“How do your powers work?” 

“I don’t know.” She looked away, shame washing over her for a reason she couldn’t place. 

“They haven’t been training you?” She looked back to see him frowning. 

Nesta shook her head. “I trained in physical combat. That’s what they wanted and I didn’t argue. I don’t want to use my magic.” 

Eris was quiet for a moment, staring at her but not seeming to actually see her. He sighed. 

“After the wedding, we start training with your magic. You’re not much used to me if you can’t actually control it.”

“Seems like a poor decision on your part. Buying a cow without knowing if it produces milk.” 

Despite her sharp tongue, she felt the heat of embarrassment crawl up her neck. Not being able to control her powers made her feel weak. But having to actually control them instead of simply burying them? That scared her more than she wanted to admit. 

“You showed in that throne room you have powers. I knew exactly what I was getting when I first asked for your hand in Hewn City. It is no fault of your own Rhys was too scared to have you trained.” He looked down his nose at her. “Referring to yourself as a cow doesn’t become you.” 

Her face flushed at the realization of what she said. He acted as if he had the sudden need to adjust the cuff of his jacket. He continued, ignoring her reaction. 

“Are there any questions before dinner?” He paused. “Or complaints?” 

She crossed her arms. The meeting with Beron in the throne room was quick and simple. She was introduced to each family member and she prayed to whatever gods still listened that she could remember the brothers names. She only remembered Asher and even he looked less than friendly. 

“Am I really able to trust your brother? The stocky one?” 

Eris said simply. “We have an arrangement. If he so much as sneers in your direction, he will suffer the consequences.” 

“What kind of arrangement?” 

“Nothing you need to worry about.” 

She studied Eris trying to figure out what he could have on his brother that would make him fall in line so easily when all she ever heard was how vicious they were. 

“His wife, she isn’t from here.” 

“Observant.” He could have rolled his eyes for how sarcastically he said it. “ Anything else?” 

“Where is she from?” Nesta narrowed her gaze.

“She’s from Spring. Her uncle is a Lord in the western part of Autumn. He offered her up when father requested a list of eligible females to marry off Asher.”

“Why choose her?” 

It didn’t make sense to Nesta. After what she’d seen, Spring was of use to no one. Autumn Court for all its appearances, seemed to prioritize gain above all else. That is what made this very scheme work in first place

“Probably because she was the only one who still had her maidenhead.” Nesta instantly balked but Eris continued. “She admitted to knowing Lucien while in Spring like an idiot. What better way to punish him further than to have his friend marry one of the brothers that forced him to watch his betrothed be beheaded.” 

Nesta’s mouth gaped open slightly. There was so much information to process. “Lucien was betrothed?” 

“Centuries ago. The fool fell in love with a lesser fae.” Eris shot her a stern look. “You will not speak of him after today, understood? Anything else?” 

“She was beheaded?” He nodded and her stomach churned. Disgust etched into her features. “And you let it happen just because she was lesser?”

“I could only save one of them and I chose my brother.” Actual anger flashed in his eyes, heat filling the air between them. “I paid for it greatly. You have to pick your battles even if they come at a cost.”

Then he blinked and seemed to come back to himself. She almost felt like he looked at her with regret. 

He added in a softer tone. “My father is cruel. You do things you normally wouldn’t to survive.”

That did not set her at ease. “And you felt it was wise to bring me here?” 

“That was a call your High Lord made. Rather quickly, I might add.” He raised a brow and narrowed his gaze. “What did you do to Rhys that would make him give you up so quickly?”

“I gained his ire by making it out of the cauldron alive.” She gave him a withered look. “I am certain deep down he hopes I die in this court.” 

He stared at her for a moment, then scoffed. She swore there was a flash of a grin on his face. Eris immediately cleared his throat and he slipped right back into his previous cold demeanor. 

“We both know there is to be only one death in this court, and it will not be yours.” He paused as if collecting his thoughts. “That reminds me there are more unspoken rules I should share before dinner.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nesta could hardly stomach dinner.

Being back around the other Vanserras put her on edge. She was seated to Eris’s left and Eris to his father’s left at the head of the table. Even with Eris between them, she was too close to Beron for her comfort. Beside her was Piran, if she remembered correctly. Eris explained the seating before they left her room. Explained how once Beron and his mother walked in, they were to stand until Beron seated her and then himself. He added neither of them could leave until after Beron left unless formally dismissed.

It did not help that it felt like they were all watching her. Especially the brother across from her, Cillian. He was the only one of the brothers that had more brown than red in his hair. It was cut shorter and slicked back. She looked up once to see him staring at her but his eyes were not on her face. She kept her head down after that. The other issue was the wine. She pretended to drink and prayed no one noticed her glass not emptying. She would have to humble herself later and ask Eris to have her served only water. 

The food was thankfully not terrible. Completely different from the Night Court’s; more root vegetables and milder on the tongue. A type of bird for meat. She’d never admit this single dish was better than anything her sister and the half-wraiths could cook up. The dining room itself was beautiful. Eris mentioned it was the formal one; they met once a week in this room and other times the Vanserra’s were free to dine where they liked. 

She made a point to stare at the cloth on the table while the maids in golden linen dresses and blood red aprons went about refilling wine glasses. The table cloth was thick, ivory white and gold stitching. The runner in the center was blue, similar to what everyone was wearing. She wondered if it always matched and if so, what a waste of money it was to constantly replace the runner just for the sake of a family dinner. She was so lost in her thoughts, ignoring conversation around her that she started when she felt Eris’s foot hit her own under the table.

“Nesta.” She lifted her head and her gaze met Eris’s. He was glaring at her. “Celeste asked you a question.” 

“I’m sorry.” Apologies fell from her lips easier than she liked. She scanned the table and further down her eyes met striking blue. “Would you mind repeating the question? I didn’t quite hear it.”

Cillian snorted. “Just like a female to not listen. Are you as dumb as your sister? I heard the High Lord of Night taught her to spell with his tongue. Did he teach you how to spell too? With his head between your legs?”

Nesta was too taken aback to respond. Eris however, was out of his seat immediately. In a blink he was on the other side of the table, yanking Cillian by his hair with a knife to his throat. 

“Apologize to my wife or I will cut out your tongue through your throat.” 

“She isn’t your wife yet.” He hissed back. 

“Cillian,” Beron spoke up as if he was chastising a child. His tone did darken as he added, “Apologize. I have already told you once before to not be crude in front of your mother.” 

“My apologies, Mother.” He sneered and Eris seemed to tug his head again. “And Lady Nesta.” 

The Lady of Autumn picked food from her plate as if nothing was happening. “I accept your apology dear.” 

“Eris, sit down.” Beron grumbled. 

Eris made a point of throwing Cillian’s head forward narrowly missing shoving it into his plate. Unlike before Eris made a slow walk around the table. Nesta was certain her mouth was gaped still. 

A moment passed and Celeste cleared her throat. “I was asking if you were excited. For the wedding considering your family won’t be present.” 

“Yes, I am.” She replied automatically, lies quickly falling from her tongue without thought. “My sister is with child. Which is why they will not be joining us.” She cut her eyes to Cillian, hoping he saw the promise of death in them if he commented again. “One can never be too careful during pregnancy. Children are a blessing.” 

“Indeed they are.” Celeste replied quickly before looking down at her plate. 

“Celeste is pregnant,” Piran spoke up beside her. Nesta tried to not scowl at how he spoke around his food. He nudged her with his elbow. “Vanserra’s are fertile. Better watch it if you want to enjoy your honeymoon period or you’ll end up like them.” 

“Piran,” Eris practically growled. She didn’t dare look over at him. 

“You’ll have to forgive my boys, Lady Nesta.” Beron’s voice was like a low rumble that struck fear down her spine. “They seem to forget the concept of manners. Do I need to remind you both how to behave in front of guests or is a warning enough?”

She could feel Piran stiffen beside her. Cillian’s face paled. The silence at the table made her hair stand on end. Something unspoken laid between them all. It reminded her of when everyone but Feyre knew about the complications, only worse. This was a heaviness she hoped to never be subjected to again. 

”Speaking of guests,” Beron broke the silence as if it had never happened. “The Lords from the territories will arrive in the morning. I expect the two of you,” His eyes shifted between Piran and Cillian, “To greet them.”

“Yes sir,” they both muttered. 

Nesta was shocked when the Lady of Autumn spoke up, looking at her directly. “Your dress will be fitted in the morning. It’s a shame your previous High Lord wouldn’t allow you to come for it prior.”

”He does like to cause as much trouble as he can,” Nesta replied. “I look forward to the fitting.

“I think it would be best if we retire,” Eris spoke up. Nesta cut her eyes to him but he was looking at his father. “It will be a long day tomorrow.”

Beron considered it for a moment. “You’re dismissed. All of you are dismissed. Except for Piran and Cillian. I need to speak with them about the Lords and Governors. Before we retire for the evening.”

Nesta felt in her soul that wasn’t the truth. 

Not with the way everyone stood on cue, and Eris coming to pull her chair out from the table quickly. She kept her composure, back stiff and head held high when Eris offered her his arm. Neither of them spoke all the way back to their chambers. It was only when he stopped at her door, he seemed to relax. 

“Your maids will wake you in the morning.” He stepped back from her and straightened his jacket. He didn’t look her in the eyes. “I will not see you until the ceremony.”

”Eris, what-“ 

His eyes cut to her and she stopped speaking. It shocked her to see his amber eyes pleading with an air of something she couldn’t put her finger on. 

”Do not ask questions. Not here.” He whispered. “Go to bed and try to rest.”

She nodded and bid him good night. As she readied herself for bed, the uneasiness from dinner did not leave her. What the deep hells had Rhys got her involved in? She stared at the door from her bed, hoping against hope that Cassian would barge in and fly her away back to Night. Like the heroes in her novels would when their love was in danger. Cassian was supposed to be a hero. He was supposed to be her hero. 

She finally fell asleep dreaming of red; glowing stones morphing into flaming red hair. 

Next Chapter

[olenvasynyt]

Does anyone else ponder on why they are so obsessed with a certain type of fictional man? Because I love Lucien. So much. I think about him 24/7. And ages ago I was trying to put my finger on why I’m so obsessed with him and then I remembered who my first book crush was as a little 8 year old reading fantasy.

And that is Dustfinger from the Inkheart series.

And I swear to god. These two men are so similar it’s not even funny.

A little summary with spoilers for Inkheart for those who haven’t read the series:

Facial scars. Lucien lost his eye and has a scar ofc, and Dustfinger has three scars on his cheek and eye area

Fire powers. Lucien is from Autumn and Dustfinger is a fire-eater

They are both redheads. Dustfinger is technically a strawberry blonde, since there are some descriptions of his hair leaning more to the ginger side. When he had a shruff it was described as ginger.

They both have very sly and snarky senses of humor. They often trick other characters.

They are both compared to foxes. Dustfinger’s first pov chapter ends with “the night swallowed him up like a thieving fox”

They are outcasts from their home in some way which is essential to some aspect of their character development. Lucien ran from Autumn, and then ran from Spring. Dustfinger was read out of his book and found it impossible to be sent back

Worked with the enemy at some point, either as a morally grey character or because they thought it was the right thing. And they eventually discover that they made a detrimental mistake and have to learn from it. Lucien worked with Tamlin to try to save Feyre from Rhys and in turn worked with Hybern. Dustfinger worked with the antagonist Capricorn to get the book so he could get back home.

They have a very dark and sad inner dialogue. Both are described to be hopeless and filled with regret and mourning, but they both hide them under a charming and snarky humor

Had a loved one they lost and are constantly thinking about. Lucien’s lover Jesminda was murdered, and Dustfinger had a wife named Roxanne who he hadn’t seen in years after he was read out of his book.

I count this as a similarity: they both pine over a woman but they keep their distance and let that woman make her own choice. Lucien lines over Elain ofc, and Dustfinger loved the main character Meggie’s mother Rita, but he still thought of his own wife Roxanne and he discovered that Rita was Mo’s wife. (I don’t know how to explain it if you haven’t read the book I’m sorry if it sounds confusing or weird lmao)

Lucien is very loyal and often sacrifices himself for others. And Dustfinger was not like that at all in the beginning of the series, and in fact he was very selfish and did not often want to put himself in danger. But then he makes the ultimate sacrifice (no big spoilers) and then he changes to a person who is very loyal to the main characters.

They both like to travel

Main differences:

Lucien came from a prestigious family and Dustfinger was an orphan who was homeless for the majority of his life. We can sort of apply that homelessness to Lucien but Dustfinger very much thrives in that sort of environment while Lucien feels disheartened by it.

Lucien has daddy issues with Beron being a shitty father and Helion being his true father. And Dustfinger does not have any parental figures but he is the daddy issues: he had two daughters, and the oldest daughter hated him for disappearing for years.  Wasn’t his fault for leaving, he didn’t have a choice, but it still formed into daddy issues for his daughter.  He was essentially the dad who went to get milk at the grocery store and never came back.  

Lucien has no animal companion, unlike Dustfinger who has his horned marten Gwin! But maybe Lucien can get a Pegasus in the future 👀

I love both of these characters so much and ugh man. It’s rare to find fictional characters that are like them. I recommend the Inkheart series for those who love Dustfinger and also to those who love fantasy and reading in general!

[achaotichuman]

Hiii! I'm Andras Anon, back again! This time for a short time, because I was thinking about Rhysand and Tamlin past, about the death (murder) of their families and... I couldn't remember well the details and since I don't really want to pick up the books to search when they talk about it (I'm not ready to suffer again lol), I was wondering if you remember why didn't Rhysand kill Tamlin? The one who was "responsable" for the death of his mother and sister? Unless there's more to it, bc, If I remember correctly even him doesn't fault Tamlin 100%, it's Feyre who really jumps the gun there lol (and I kind of remember that when Tamlin talked about it he had a different take on the events, another retcon?)

What I remember is -> Rhysand & Tamlin became friends (THE DAGGERS AAA) -> Tamlin tells (?) his father and brothers about the location of Rhys's mothers & sister, they kill them -> Rhysand & Father kill Tamlin's family -> Tamlin becomes HL & kills BatKing, Rhysand becomes HL -> ??? I don't remember anything after this, like blank state ahaha

But, why didn't Rhysand (since he hates Tamlin so much) kill him? Why didn't they kill him before? Because Rhysand knew it wasn't his fault (but still hate/can't forgive him?) / Because he couldn't (if I see another person saying "He is the strongest HL" where? give me proof since he really can't do anything on his own) / other reason that I don't remember?

In my heart I know that SJM is planning for the Friends to Lovers to Enemy to Lovers again, so she really can't kill him, ahahaha

Jokes aside (not really), I wanted to ask your opinion and pov about this? If you like and it's not a bother of course! In the meantime I wish you a good day/night! ♥

Oooooooooohhhh yes yes yes!!! I love this question!!!

Okay so you’re pretty spot on with the series of events. It was Tamlin and Rhysand were bffs - Tamlin supposedly reveals the location of Rhysand’s mother and sister to his brothers and father- They go and kill them and send their heads down the river for Rhysand and his father to find- Rhysand and his father immediately go and kill Tamlin’s father, mother and brothers- Tamlin kills Rhysands father- Suddenly they’re both High lords.

My biggest issue with this series of events is when you look at the spot where Tamlin went and revealed the location of Rhysand’s mother and sister, Rhysand isnt actually there to witness what happened. Then later they find his mother and soster dead because they found the bodies. No one was around to tell them who killed them. I imagine theyre must have been some kind of tell tale sign, like a branded signal, in the same way Thysand branded the faeries head he left in Spring under Amarantha’s reign. Or maybe even a letter stating who did it. In any case Rhysand has no clear way of knowing that it was Tamlin who revealed the location. The only thing he has to go off of is assumption.

Saying Rhysand assumed Tamlin revealed the location is not a long shot given that Rhysand himself and Feyre tend to very very quickly jump to conclusions. And it ties in really nicely if this is the case because it stands to say that Rhysand didnt kill Tamlin because he felt guilty for doing so, as he has no real way of knowing if he was truly involved in the effort or not. Plus Rhysand had said that he “was tired of all the death” so it’s easy to say he couldn't bring himself to kill Tamlin because of guilt.

What also I believe supports my theory is Tamlin’s overall personality and his actions throughout the series. Tamlin slowly became more and more unhinged (I believe due to poor writing on SJM’s part) but one thing is consistent and that he is not a malicious man or a liar. If one thing has to show for Tamlin’s good nature it’s that he always has good intentions.

Plus we know that Tamlin loathed his brothers and father with all of his heart and wanted to be better than them, so it’s unlikely he would hand over any information willingly to them.

All this to say I believe Rhysand just assumed Tamlin told them, but felt that was too rocky a theory at the time he could have killed Tamlin. And throughout his life this ‘truth’ has become even more solidified in his mind which is why he says it with such certainty to Feyre.

Anyway, this is just my two cents, but thank you for the question, I very much enjoy talking about this topic!!!

[nestasgalpal]

Can't think straight when we are together Pt. 4 [Nessian]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Nesta’s Gal Pal masterlist | AO3

Tagging: @zoyaslai @champanheandluxxury @pataytayo @nessiantrashh @dustjacketmusings @saltydreamcollector @generalnesta @simpingfornestaarcheron @arinbelle @a-court-of-valkyries @azrielsgirl @swoopingoccamy @vasudharaghavan @vidalinav @sv0430 @nessianforlife @claralady @sayosdreams @malluzia @dealfea @kylosmomm @unlikelypersonalknight1

This townhouse had been in Rhys' family for generations, its living room a witness to almost all their hangovers, but now that the happy couple had officially moved in, the space was unrecognizable. Feyre's paintings hang on every wall, and instead of the mismatched cups they had collected over the years, a new set was now waiting to be used. The boxes with the old stuff were stored away, so Feyre and Rhys could start filling the rooms with their own belongings.

Cassian's heart warmed when he saw the place. Of course, a part of him missed the sense of familiarity when he entered a room, but at least he got to be part of the new memories they would make here.

The joy of the night was that, and collecting the jackpot. "How in hell did you miss this happening?" Cassian poked fun at Amren, who hadn't guessed correctly in the poll made almost 10 years ago about who would move in with their partner first.

"I thought you and Az would move in together and be the type of roommates who have the entire block wondering if they are really good friends or really good friends." Amren wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Cassian roared laughing again. She waved her piece of paper in the air accusingly, as if it was his fault she lost.

Fifty bucks wasn't a fortune, but it was definitely more than the others got. Mor had trusted her own ability to find a partner quicker than the rest. Amren had put all her eggs in the basket of a bromance that never happened. Az himself had been 15 years old and in love, and therefore it was Mor's name on his piece of paper. And Rhys, in an unexpected turn of events, had tried to make a joke out of putting Amren's name on it next to a poorly drawn knife, as if implying she would be the first one to move in with her partner, but violence would be involved.

Not only didn't he win, but, to his disappointment, he didn't even get a laugh out of the crowd.

So Cassian was now fifty dollars richer than he was that morning.

"I'm a little hurt no one put me." He confessed, the grin still hanging on his lips.

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Come on, man, you know you'll be last. I think Amren's hunch was right: You'll live with friends until all of us move out." The collective agreement when all the guests laughed, had Cassian frowning. "What?" Rhys saw the need to explain himself when he saw Cassian wasn't joining in the laughter. "You are the kind of guy who would rather spend time with friends than anything else. And I'm not complaining!" Again, everyone agreed.

Mor went a little further with the explanation that, apparently, only Cassian needed. "Cass, we know we are lucky to have you. I would hate having to share the best friend ever with anyone but the people in this room. And your career will also benefit from it." 

Indeed, his prospects to go pro within the next year did benefit from him not having to divide his time three ways: football, friends and love life. There was still something that bothered him, though. But Cassian knew he should be grateful for how blindly his friends trusted that he would always be there for them. That was his role, after all. Good, reliable, always willing Cassian.

It's my fault, I'm the one who never sought a love life in the first place. Cassian thought, trying to rub it off.

But the itch didn't go away—not fully. Deep down, Cassian knew it didn't make sense, as Rhy's dream career was the exact same one he was pursuing. And love had never been something he was expected to give up in order to achieve it. Just the opposite: they were here celebrating it.

"I mean," Amren was adding now, as the conversation had kept going without him, "we don't even have enough chairs to grant you a plus one, so even if we wanted that for you," She shrugged, "we can't afford it."

Ouch.

"Yeah, I get it." He laughed without feeling it, doing his best to mask it. The topic clearly wouldn't die until he agreed. "As me being in a relationship would be inconvenient for all of us, I promise you I never will." He placed a hand over his heart as he made his vow.

As simple as that, everyone moved on.

The paint color for the walls was perfect. Were they thinking of adding a lamp in that dark corner? Mor made a point to mention how trendy wall molding was at the moment, and Az made a point to mention how that kind of feature only collected dust. The extra cleaning was a dealbreaker for Feyre; she had noticed in the last few days how much dust the paintings collected and wasn't planning on spending even more time cleaning the walls.

Football and the draft being around the corner was the next topic, one Cassian was thrilled to get into. He expected to be picked in the first round, and so did Rhys.

"You've got it, man." There was not a pinch of doubt in his friend's voice. "My dad heard our city's team wants you, so it's a done deal. Next season, you'll be playing for Velaris."

"It would make more sense to pick you in the first round: quarterback, team captain and the mayor's son." Cassian argued.

Az didn't fully agree. "I don't know, Cass. Your stats are better. If they don't pick you in the first round, you might not be there for the second one."

The three of them got deep into the discussion and stopped paying attention to whatever the girls were saying in their parallel conversation. From time to time, Cassian caught Feyre mentioning her sisters or her parents. He knew they hadn't taken her decision to drop out well; otherwise, she wouldn't be here with her life packed in boxes. He made an effort to pay even less attention to her. Feyre's family was a topic he would rather not hear about, for his own reasons.

"There is an implied pressure for the other teams not to pick Rhys if they go with you in the first round." Azriel was insistent on the fact that Cassian would be picked by Velaris' team first, then Rhys in the second round. Cassian wasn't so sure, and Rhys was on the fence. "Obviously, the mayor's son playing for another city wouldn't sit well with anyone."

"Do you see how offensive it is to imply the only reason the team wants me is my dad? I am the fucking captain in the college league!"

"Yet Cass has been MVP for the last three years. Out of four." He added, more worked up by the second.

"I mean, it is a factor, Rhys." Cassian wasn't planning on fooling himself to protect Rhysand's ego. His dad had intel on the team's plans, and knowing that was enough to figure he was part of the conversation... and conclude what that meant. 

Neither of the three was budging. "He is your father in some way too." Rhys tried arguing.

Rhysand's parents had fostered Az and him for a couple of years and treated them like their own, that was true. But they were in their twenties now, and while Rhys was getting a townhouse as a gift in the middle of the semester, Cassian and Az paid for their shared dorm on campus themselves. The three of them would always see each other as brothers, Cassian had no doubt, but in reality, Rhysand's father had long ago stopped taking care of them as such. His mom, though, still had them go over for dinner at least once a week, and made sure they had presents under the tree each Christmas.

Just like the last one, the topic of the draft died unresolved, and the night went on. Board games were followed by charades, and the wine kept flowing, making it harder every round to perform.

Cassian did his best to play a horse, although his teammates were having a hard time understanding his gestures. He laughed and drank, focusing on the game as the back of his mind remained unsettled. As he played charades, it played with the idea that something was off tonight.

Perhaps it was the boxes in the living room, so similar to the ones where he and his mom used to put their few belongings when they moved from one tiny place to another. The flats she could afford were never bigger than this living room, and their things had certainly never filled them as much as Feyre and Rhys' did. 

It could also be the topic of the draft. Of course, he wanted to stay in the city with his friends, but, as Az had pointed out, his chances were dependent on how much influence politics had in the decision.

The annoying rumble troubling him could, of course, be caused by the same anguishing fear that had a month ago settled in his mind and conquered it. It took on a new form now, but the dilemma was the same as it was the last time: What did he want, and what was he willing to pay for it? In the scenario where Velaris' team didn't pick him and another did, accepting would mean leaving this place behind—his friends. So, again, was his career on the list of things he was willing to sacrifice in order to keep life as he knew it unchanged? It was hard to tell right now, drunk as he was. Especially considering he had been regretting his first call from the moment he made it.

Cassian was repulsed by his own cowardice.

Despite his inner distress, he didn't let any of it show. He was present in the board game and alert enough to stop Amren, his assigned partner, from launching herself over the table and slapping Az when he caught her cheating. Az's life was saved, Cass was thanked, and the balcony door was opened so the smokers could take a break.

"I got this." He let Feyre know when she started picking up the game pieces to tidy up the table. "Why don't you go set up the karaoke?"

She did. Or tried to. Where had they packed it? "If you were me yesterday, would you say the karaoke belonged in the miscellaneous box, the living room miscellaneous box, or the home items miscellaneous box?" She asked him across the room, pointing at each one at a time. They were now alone. Feyre pouted. "This was supposed to be a relaxing weekend! I can't believe I exchanged a spa for an unpacking season." 

They both laughed.

"Don't rush it, Fey. You have a thousand little rooms to fill, so the labels you wrote before coming here won't help you make sense of anything."

"There are so many rooms, right?" She smiled. "Not now, of course, but maybe after we've made this place ours, we can start tearing down a few walls and make it more of an open concept."

Nodding, Cassian closed the box that contained the game and put it on the shelf they had taken it from. "I like the little rooms, though. I like the privacy of small spaces better than large floor plans, which I wouldn't know how to furnish." He went to help Feyre figure out the boxes. Two sets of hands and eyes would, or should, find the karaoke faster. "I grew up sharing one-bedroom apartments with my mom. The living room would sometimes be the kitchen as well. Or that, plus the bedroom, not gonna lie."

Feyre nodded, understanding. She had lived like that for a few years as well, when her father's company declared bankruptcy. That was a long time ago, though, and the estate Cassian had wandered through last month was proof of it. Like businessmen do, her dad had found his way up again. Cassian had learned at a young age that connections were more valuable than money itself. If you knew the right people, doors would open for you, no matter what.

That was the problem, wasn't it? Some of the people he was competing against knew everybody, while his claim to success relied on his talent alone.

"How do you imagine your place?" Feyre asked. "Something small in the city?"

Cassian laughed. "The opposite. I want a big place. And far away from here. With a large garden for the dogs I'll have to run." Feyre confessed to liking the idea of animals as well. "I'll have my things all over the place. Not in my room, because the entire house will be mine." She smiled and imagined the place he was describing. "I'll need long hallways to frame all my football memorabilia. I've been collecting it since I was a kid, and it will be the first thing to find a place for. Then, we can fill the rest of the walls with her books, but my football stuff goes first."

Eyes wide, she opened her mouth to say something, but Cassian was too into the picture already. "Plus, I can build her the shelves, but the signed shirts have to go into these specific glass frames. They are custom-made, so I need to take care of them before anything else."

"Right, I'm sure she will understand." Feyre murmured.

Shit.

"I mean, whoever. I might even get the house before I get a girlfriend and won't worry about it for a long time, so whatever." He laughed, struggling not to stumble upon his words. "That's why my things have priority."

"Yeah, it makes total sense." Feyre pretended with him. "You go first."

"Nesta's spoiled ass won't be happy about that." Mor's voice took both Feyre and him by surprise, and the new homeowner almost dropped the bundle in her hands back into the box.

It could be because he had never been able to lie to Mor, but he didn't try to mask the feelings soaking his words this time. "That was unprompted."

"No, it wasn't. You were thinking about her." She countered, as if that explained the comment. "How do I know?" She read his mind again. "Your face changes when you do. You look more stupid than usual."

The silence was awkward, and none of them moved. Cassian didn't want to talk about Nesta right now. And if Mor didn't like her, which was clearly the case, then why did she even have to bring her up?

Feyre was the first to react, but that wasn't much help. "I'll go look for the karaoke in some boxes I have in the bedroom." She excused herself and left.

"What the fuck is your problem?" He snapped when they were alone.

"Do you know how hard it is for me to see you plan your life with someone who doesn't care if you live or die?"

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest and took a step forward. This was not the day to be condescending. "Do you know how fucking insufferable it is being told what you should and shouldn't do as if you didn't have a damn brain of your own?" Mor was taken aback by his sudden aggressiveness. "Keep her name out of your mouth and let me live my fucking life."

He didn't raise his voice, but he was cutting with every word. Mor just stood there, speechless. Cassian didn't know what had taken over him either, he only knew Mor had broken a candid moment between him and Feyre with nasty and unnecessary comments. The first fucking good moment he had had in the entire night.

"Go ruin someone else's life with your self-centered advice, Mor. You are done with mine."

Feeling offended brought her back to life. "I'm your friend, it's my job to protect you!"

His face was probably redder by the second. "From what? A 125-pound girl that needs glasses to read the ingredients on her cereal and spends her afternoons studying the names of pharmaceutical drugs?" The surprising choice of words for his description of Nesta stole a shocked laugh from Mor, as well as from Cassian, unfortunately. That seemed to lighten the mood. "See, now you've made me roast the girl I want!" He accused, a smile lingering in the corner of his lips. Mor was doing her best to contain hers, and he appreciated the effort. "I really want to be with her —read the labels for her and distract her mind when she is burned out. Do you really have reasons to dislike her so much you must stop me? Can't you just get a fucking hobby?"

Accepting that she didn't, in fact, have a specific reason, Mor nodded her head. Cassian saw a glimpse of regret for what she had been doing in her eyes, even if pride hid it again a moment later. All was said, at least as far as his need to defend himself and Nesta went.

"I am sorry, Cass. I am sorry I let some of that ugly overprotectiveness get between the two of you... and us. But you have to understand that I don't want things to change."

Her voice cracked in the last sentence, and Cassian couldn't stay mad because he understood. He understood Mor better than the rest, hence why he expected the same thing from her in return. She had always reciprocated, which was probably the reason it had taken Cassian so long to see she was actually sabotaging things for him. He would have never thought to be wary of her, of all people.

There had always been a silent recognition between the two. It was a bond that never turned romantic, but both had always been painfully aware they had, to some extent, sacrificed their own happiness for the group. Cassian never pursued a love life, knowing they would never be okay with someone taking his focus from them. He had at times wanted to, but the fear of losing what they had in the process and being left out had always stopped him.

Mor, on the other hand, had endured almost ten years of yearning from Azriel, only so she didn't risk the group having to pick between the two of them. Again, out of fear she would end up losing the only people whose presence in her life mattered. She always got that, and saw the same fears in him. Shouldn't she sympathize with his stance more than anyone else? Shouldn't she be the one having his back at this crossroad, where desire to have a life beyond this friendship finally rivaled with the guilt of not doing what was best for them? Now that Cassian, for the first time, was willing to explore which was greater?

In order to protect the group's integrity, Cassian had let the one person he had ever wanted to be with get away.

"I really am." She muttered. They shared a knowing look, and this time, Mor's pride didn't cloud the hurt and regret in her eyes.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Cassian ran his hands through his hair and said nothing. She reached for her purse, a bag way too big for daily use that somehow was always full to the brim. He saw her dive inside through the corner of his eye but didn't really pay attention until she put a white card in his face. "Here. This is for you. Feyre and I were going to use it, but plans changed." He rolled his eyes and said she needn't make him a gift to compensate, he knew she was sorry, but Mor insisted. "Just take it, will you? And go." He agreed, uncomfortable, just so this would end.

His friend seemed to be waiting for him to do something else, although Cassian wasn't sure what. He looked at the card, as she may want him to be more excited about it. That's when he saw it —the name for the reservation. "Archeron." He read. "How am I supposed to get in, Mor? This is in someone else's name."

The sassy, confident smile was back on his friend's lips. She winked at him and palmed his shoulder. "Let this be my olive branch to you two, okay?" Cassian was starting to join the dots. "And pack a suit!"

[shadowqueenjude]

Part 4 of my Feytamsand fic for Day 4 of @polyacotarweek --> Adventure (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part3)

Tamlin takes Feyre and Rhysand on an adventure to right an old wrong!

“Why have you woken me up so early?” Rhysand grunted, squinting against the sudden light hitting his eyes. Feyre beamed. “We’re going on a trip, Rhys! Isn’t that fun?”

“What? No! I just want to sit in bed and mourn my lost powers!”

“Now who’s the boring one?” Tamlin said, shuffling to Rhysand’s door. “Up you get. So long as you’re living under my roof, you will be working for me.”

Rhysand blinked. “Working…for you?”

“Yes,” Tamlin replied.

Rhysand shook his head. “Absolutely not. I will not sit here and let your annoying self made from nothing but muscle order me around like some common servant-“

“Is that what you thought of Cassian and Azriel?” Feyre countered.

“Well no, but-“

“Is that what you thought of Lucien?” Rhysand did not fail to notice Tamlin’s wince at the charming redhead’s name. “Of course not, but-“

“Then why do you think you’d be any different?”

“Didn’t you say he treated you like a trophy?” Rhysand protested. Feyre shrugged. “We’re long past that now. Everyone deserves a second chance. Besides, did you forget how you paraded me like a trophy under the mountain?”

Tamlin snickered behind Feyre and Rhysand threw him a withering glare. “I hate you both.”

“Sure,” Tamlin and Feyre said at the same time, turning to each other. “When did you two decide to gang up on me?” Rhysand muttered as he followed them to the dining table to eat. Sighhh. “Where are we going?” Rhysand asked through a mouthful of noodles. “Summer Court,” Tamlin answered. “We need to begin the repopulation of Spring, bring back those who had taken refuge in Summer.”

“You don’t mean to say you haven’t already started?”

“Well no one saw fit to come back, seeing as they all believed this shit to be my fault,” Tamlin growled, his claws poking out through his skin. “That’s where you two come in. You’re going to tell the people of summer the truth.”

“And ruin my reputation?”

Tamlin tilted his head. “Can your reputation really be ruined more than it already is?”

Feyre pouted at Tamlin. “No, but mine can. Isn’t there another way?”

“You did this, Feyre,” Tamlin said quietly. “You refused to address it at the High Lord’s meeting. Will you continue to ignore your wrongs now?”

Feyre said nothing.

“The people may forgive you; you liberated Prythian from Amarantha, after all. But my people won’t forgive me unless I can prove to them that I didn’t do this.

Feyre’s expression tightened. Then she muttered, “Fine.”

Rhysand squawked, “You’re just ok with this?”

Feyre’s glare was frigid when she turned to him. “I want Spring to bloom once more. Don’t you?”

Rhysand grumbled, “Yes, ok, whatever, I’ll do it.”

“Good.”

Rhysand went through his clothes, trying to decide what to wear to appear more harmless. But looking through his clothing, it was clear enough that most of it was rather…plain. Also, it was all black. Black, as a general rule, was a threatening color. Or a depressing one. Either way, not the message he wanted to send.

Perhaps a feminine way of dressing would make him seem unthreatening. The only problem was that he’d only ever dressed like that in private; he’d never had the courage to dress like that in public.

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. Rhysand practically flew up the stairs and into Tamlin’s mother’s old bedroom, where sure enough, several of her former dresses awaited him. Rhysand forced his head down a pretty yellow sundress, lining his eyes with kohl and pink eyeshadow, adding little daffodil gems to the corner of each eye.

There. All he needed was a pretty little bun at the top of his head complete with a bow and he’d be all set. Unfortunately, his hair was too short for that. He pulled up his skirts as he carefully descended the stairs. Feyre and Tamlin both raised brows at him as he came down to the first level.

“What?” Rhysand demanded. “Don’t I look handsome?”

Tamlin stared blankly. “Erm, your eyes are…bright?”

“You look marvelous, Rhys,” Feyre cut in, shaking her head at Tamlin. “We need to work on those compliments, Tam. Though bright eyes is admittedly better than clean hair.”

Tamlin grunted, and Rhysand grinned. Finally a joke that was not at his expense.

Tamlin placed one beefy hand in Rhysand’s while his other hand went into Feyre’s. Then together, they winnowed into the Summer Court.

[divinemare]

Legend of a Mortal Love

┊ ➶ rhys x oc

┊ ➶ part five

part four

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Velaris was like nothing she had ever seen in her life. Not that she had seen much, tho. But still.

Ariadne spent hours a day walking through the city, accompanying Rhiannon and Mor going shopping for the incoming Winter Solstice. And they had even asked her her opinion sometimes.

“What do you think about this?” Rhiannon asked, taking a mug that read ‘as hot as my ass’.

She tried hard to keep a straight face, and even tho the mug seemed to be the most ridiculous gift ever, Ariadne nodded anyway.

“It looks like something that…uhm, it’s ok, it’s funny,” she managed to stop herself before she got to say what was truly on her mind, but Rhiannon noticed it immediately, since she did that almost all the time.

“Something like what?” The female raised a dark eyebrow, and Ariadne knew there was no escaping that look.

“Like something…I don’t know, I may be wrong,” Ariadne brushed the subject off, but Rhiannon did not.

“Ariadne, you can tell me anything, you know? We’re far from court now,” Rhiannon told her that at least twice a day.

But still, she was a court princess, and Ariadne was…

She let out a sigh and looked into the beautiful violet eyes. Rhiannon always encouraged her to speak her mind, to say whatever she wanted to say, like also Morrigan had been doing since they got to Velaris. It was still hard for her, to “speak her mind”, every time she had tried to in the past, it had ended up in beatings and nasty bruises, and everyone she had ever witnessed speaking too much their mind, always ended up dead.

“I think…it might be something Cassian would like,” she finally said it, realizing how stupid it had been to keep it quiet.

Rhiannon smiled, like she too had been thinking the same thing.

“You’ve been paying attention, huh?”

Ariadne’s cheeks caught a little bit of color, but she nodded anyway. “I like to observe, it’s everything you can do while working in court. No speaking, no distractions, just work. Silence does have its advantages, tho, one learns to listen, to keep quiet and observe.”

And quiet was exactly how Rhiannon had fell when Ariadne spoke. She recognized that expression in the female’s face, Rhiannon tended to make it every time something about Ariadne’s…life situation, got mention, and it made her feel bad that she had been the one to brought the subject up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No! No, you don’t have to apologize for anything, Ariadne, I should be the one apologizing,” the female left the mug on the counter and sighed, grabbing Ariadne’s hands.

Mor had somehow managed to get rid of the chains. Both on her wrists and on her ankles, and every step she gave, every movement she made, felt weird, but somehow…good.

Ariadne had never been without her chains, not even as a child, only for the moment she went to bed an even then, there were chains in her ankles. Not having them on her felt as if not having a part of her, as weird as it sounded, but she was getting used to the feeling of her skin being free of the metal. Skin that was, for the first time in her entire life, healing.

She was getting dangerously used to not having them, that was.

“And why would you do that?”

“Because…you know,” for the first time since they had met, Rhiannon seemed to not be able to meet her stare. “This,” she rubbed a delicate, manicured hand over the bruises and scarred skin of her wrists, then finally looked up into her eyes with heaviness in her own. “And everything else.”

“Rhiannon…”

“Rhi, please call me Rhi,” the request sounded like a plea, and Ariadne’s throat bobbed trying hard not to let the knot in it win.

“Rhi…” the nickname felt too personal rolling off her tongue, too intimate, like they were…friends. “This isn’t your fault, you don’t make the rules.”

“I know, but-”

“Let’s go look for Morrigan, shall we?” Ariadne quickly shut the female’s sad intrusive thoughts down, and instead gave her a small, but sincere, smile.

“Oh, so she gets to be called Rhi, but I get called ‘Morrigan’?” Rhiannon’s cousin was at the back of the very female, lifting an indignant eyebrow while holding something on her crossed arms that had a blinding, too sparkly color.

“Sorry…Mor,” the blonde’s face lighten up, and she gave Ariadne a big smile before walking up to them.

“Much better. Now, what do you think of this?”

Lifting up the blinding, too sparkly thing she was holding, both Ariadne and Rhiannon contained their horrified faces at the pair of neon blue sparkly socks.

“And those are for…” Rhiannon asked.

“For Azriel, obviously, since the only color he seems to at least like is blue, and he needs a bit more color in his closet than black.”

“Honey, while I agree with you that Azriel does need more color in his closet…that, that would give him a stroke if he ever saw them,” the violet eyed female couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, and Ariadne allowed herself to smile a bit.

“Come on! They…” Mor eyed the socks, then sighed and her shoulders sank in defeat. “They do suck, don’t they?” Rhiannon bursted out a laugh, while Ariadne couldn’t help the little smile at her lips also.

She wasn’t gonna lie, she liked the females, and she had seen why Rhiannon was so fond of Cassian and Azriel, too. But, a part of her, was extremely confused. For one side, she wanted to convince herself she didn’t belong there —maybe because she so obviously didn’t—, yet another part of her really, really wanted to. She wanted to sing as freely as she had been wishing to since the first day Rhiannon took her to the Rainbow and she saw the performers on the streets, she wanted to laugh freely like Mor and Rhiannon did, she wanted to join Cassian’s conversation when he so evidently was trying to include her, but she also felt like, somehow, being here, but mostly enjoying being here —because she was, she really was starting to enjoy life for the first time—, was treason to her people.

It sounded ridiculous, yet…she couldn’t help but feel that way. Fae were monsters, the ones that had enslaved her people for centuries now, she owed all her tragedies to them, yet…here, in Velaris, everything was so peaceful, so…out of her reality, people didn’t look down at her when she was walking on the street, and Rhiannon and her family had never treated her like a slave. The opposite, really, they had tried to convince she didn’t had to be a slave here.

Ariadne’s heart was truly at conflict right now, but that had turned to some sort of inspiration for her in the long run.

One day, she started humming a melody, a random one that came straight from her head, then she started putting words to that melody, random words, words that came from her heart, from all the conflicts in her mind, and, progressively, whenever she was completely alone, she would start mixing those melodie’s and words into songs she would sing for herself.

She hadn’t done that in years. Since her father’s last breath on earth.

They used to do it together; whenever she was afraid, her father would tell her to create a song, to mix random words together, and then he would put a melody to them. The songs would go from how dirty the floor was, to how much her chains hurt, to how bright the stars were.

Years later, she realized her father had done all that in attempts to detach her from their awful reality. It hadn’t worked so well after she grew up and could no longer ignore and detach herself from the cruelness of being born a human.

Yet it had happened again some days ago, when she again visited the Rainbow with Mor and Rhi, she felt it again, the need to put into words and melodies her feelings and thoughts.

It scared her, what that meant.

༺ ♡ ༻

The Winter Solstice was the reason why they had come to Velaris in the first place. The Night Court had a big celebration for this day in particular, since it was the longest night in the year.

Ariadne helped Mor and Rhi to pack their presents. Everyone would be leaving to have a quick dinner with the High Lord and the Lady of Night, then they would come back for the actual celebration between all of them.

They luckily didn’t take her with them, instead left Ariadne in the townhouse with a million protective guards on it. She thanked those hours alone, because she managed to get her hands on some paper and a quill and start writing some of the songs she had been having stuck on her head.

When she was a kid, her father taught her how to read and write, saying she would one day need it to contact her brother. Ariadne had never known how that would ever be possible at all.

Until his lath breath, her father had never stoped believing her brother was alive. They had been separated when the Fae came to capture her family, he had been sent somewhere else, and Ariadne couldn’t even remember his face by now, the last time she had ever seen him was when she had been around 5 years old.

If he was still alive, she would never be able to find him, or him to find her. Not in the world they were living in, as the people the were forced to live like.

She wrote about him in her songs, too. If only because ‘the lost star’ sounded good in a song.

She wrote about the Rainbow, about Velaris, about winged males and females, about blonde beauties and star-filled eyes, and families that felt like a taste of wind for a person that had only ever tasted dirt. All until she heard the door of the house open, and was taken away from her deep concentration.

Ariadne felt a tug of panic for a second, and quickly hid the sheets of paper in the box she had been hiding the rest. Then remembered she wasn’t doing anything bad, and the people that had arrived weren’t guards, only Rhiannon and the others.

She mastered some composure before going downstairs to see the young Fae entering the house.

“How was dinner?” She asked Rhiannon, who rolled her eyes and scoffed slightly.

“Boring, but that is the normal effect my father has on every fun affair, so it could be said that it went just as it was expected. Have you eaten anything?” Ariadne shook her head, she had forgotten about food while being so immerse in her writing.

Rhiannon didn’t give her much time to protest before she was dragging her down to the kitchen, and while everyone else got ready to exchange presents, Rhiannon sat with her and made sure she ate, while complaining about the dinner and her father.

When Ariadne was over, she said she could go back to her room to leave them alone, but both Rhiannon and Morrigan had looked at her as if she had grown a second head and sat her down between them.

“It’s Winter Solstice, Ari, you’ve got to celebrate!” Rhiannon had encouraged, and Ariadne accepted the invitation.

She didn’t have anything to gift them, since she got no money whatsoever. So she couldn’t help but feel bad when Mor had pulled out a pair of ugly socks and given them to her.

“To keep you warm,” she had said, and Ariadne had almost cried.

She had never received a present before. And even tho the socks were terribly ugly, the thought had been beautiful.

“Bitch! I wanted to give her my present first,” Rhiannon said, scoffing at not being the first to give Ariadne a present.

Ariadne swallowed the gulp in her throat while Rhiannon pulled out a little box and handed it to her.

When she opened it, Ariadne couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of the small black pearl necklace.

“This is…” She looked up at the female, her eyes inevitably holding some tears now.

“To honor the day we met,” Rhiannon said with a smile, taking the Night Pearl necklace and putting it on Ariadne.

She had only been given two gifts, but those gifts were more than she had ever possessed in her life.

“Thank…” her voice broke, and she swallowed hard to avoid the tremble in her next words. “Thank you, I’m sorry I-”

“Don’t even apologize for that, Ariadne,” Rhiannon stoped her before she could apologize for not getting her and Mor something, and the blonde female only hugged her tightly and told her in a whisper that she could consider her gift as a thank you for helping her with the other gifts, since for the first time ever, nobody had nothing bad to say about her presents.

“I…got something for you, too,” the shock she had been was interrupted by Azriel’s voice.

When Ariadne raised her head, she saw he was talking to her. She couldn’t help but to open her eyes and mouth in shock.

“For- for me?” They hadn’t talked much since they met, Ariadne was shy, and he was not a male of small chatter, either, but they had both shared something; little acknowledging, understanding looks when they saw each other’s scars.

Two days ago, Azriel had found her scratching intensely her wrists, since it was the first timeher skin ever got a chance to heal at all from the chain’s damage. He had helped her, prepared some hot water for her to relax the itching, then showed her his hands, and briefly told her the story of the scars in them.

She had then understood why Rhiannon had fallen for him. They were a perfect match, and he was a companionate male, she hadn’t helped but feel happy Rhiannon had someone like him by her side —even if they weren’t official, everyone else around them knew they would be.

“What is it?” She asked with her mouth dry in astonishment when the male nodded slightly.

“It’s a tonic for your…” Azriel pulled a little bottle out of his leathers, and looked down and her wrists and ankles.

At her scars.

“Oh,” now she was absolutely out of not only words, but breath as well.

“Rhys’ mom bought it for me a long time ago, and it really did helped me with…” he looked down at his own scars. “It won’t heal the scars, but it will make them less painful and scratchy, I promise.”

Now the tears in her eyes were almost imposible to hold. She murmured a shaky thank you, and took Azriel’s hand so he could feel the shaking in hers and understand just how thankful she really was. The male smiled slightly at her, and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly.

“Ok ok, my turn!” Cassian pushed Azriel aside to hand Ariadne his gift.

He handed her a leather notebook, wrapped perfectly with a purple ribbon.

When Ariadne looked at him a little confused, he smiled proudly and got way too close to her, almost making her back away for the surprise, and leaning in her ear.

“So you can write all those songs I’ve been hearing you sing.”

When he backed away, his smile was compassionate and light.

“I didn’t…I couldn’t get you anything, I’m sorry,” her voice shook, as much as she tried to avoid it, and she felt the first tear rolling down her cheek before she could stop it.

This people…they had known her for so little, specially Azriel and Cassian, and yet…

“Come on, a hug will suffice!” Before she could move or say anything, Cassian wrapped her in his arms and lifted her up slightly.

She had never received such a warm hug. Not since her mother died, at least. And it was in that moment that Ariadne couldn’t help but silently cry while she allowed Cassian to hug her, and she herself wrapped her arms around the big male.

“Happy Solstice, Ariadne,” both him and Azriel said when Cassian put her back down.

She was out of breath, out of words. She kept her head down so they wouldn’t see the tears streaming down het face.

“I’m sorry, can you…can you give me a moment? May I…” She made the best attempt to wipe away her tears and looked back at Rhiannon, wanting to ask for permission.

The female obviously noticed her red, crystallized eyes, and immediately stood up to take the potion and the notebook from her hands.

“Of course you can, you don’t have to ask, Ari, go,” the violet eyed female smiled understandingly, and nodded towards the exit of the common room.

Ariadne thanked everyone in a low voice, then hurried out before she could keep making a fool of herself with the tears that did not wait to keep appearing.

༺ ♡ ༻

The balcony was the only place she finally found a bit of calm in. She could still hear the laughter coming from inside the house, but she tried to focus on the stars on top of her head than in the pounding of her heart.

It was surreal, all of this. The people inside, the gifts they had gotten her…everything felt like a story of her own songs, and not her reality.

She wasn’t mad about it, not even sad. She discovered that while she stared at the sky and silently talked to the stars. That’s what scared her the most. That she wasn’t really against this whole thing, that she was actually, for the first time in her life, not feeling fear, not feeling dread, not feeling anger. For the first time in her life, there were tiny moments during the day she forgot to feel all those things.

Ariadne took a deep breath, trying to absorb the star’s serene energy, to take in the happiness and peace in the air and keep it in her heart for as long as she could.

Then the window to the balcony opened, and the strangest feeling rose in her neck at the presence that came in.

She didn’t had to turn around, by the way the hairs in her neck stood on end, she already knew who was standing behind her even before he spoke.

“I got you a present, too, but I didn’t got to give it to you before you left,” Rhysand said, the window to the inside of the house closing behind him.

When Ariadne turned around, she had the chance to take him in, truly take him in. His wings were out, relaxed, just as his shoulders were as well. His eyes had a unique light Ariadne had only seen shining in the stars, and his face was much more handsome in the moonlight, as if the night literally suited him to perfection.

Here, in Velaris, it seemed as if Rhysand relaxed into a new person completely, gone were the scowls she had so often seen him make, the furrowed brows and the sharp edges of his face. It was as if the city soften him, or maybe it was the people inside the house, or both, she would dare say.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No need to apologize, or to explain yourself. You’re not at court, Ariadne,” he rushed to cut her words off, a small, relaxed smile on his beautifully thin lips.

“Rhiannon tells me that all the time,” she sighed, leaning in the railing of the balcony.

“Because it’s the truth,” Rhysand approached her side, taking the same position she was, leaning in by her left.

“But for how long? Rhysand? A couple days more?” She looked at him, both harshness and tiredness dripping off her tone.

She had noticed that, only with Rhysand, she found herself being insolent, a little too much herself, some times. Maybe it was the way he purposely drove her to act like that, or something else entirely she hadn’t stop to think about.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh,” she adverted her eyes from his violet ones.

“Yes, yes you did,” her head snapped back at him, just in time to see the tiniest smile in his lips before he quickly took it back and pulled out something from a pocket of his black pants. “Here,” it was a thin, simple envelope, with only her name written in front of it.

“What is it?” She took it in her hands, and stared at him with a confused frown.

“Your Solstice present,” he answered with a tone of obviousness that made her want to roll her eyes, but she abstained from as she carefully opened the envelope.

Ariadne pulled out two papers from it, and stared at them in utter confusion.

“I’m sorry, I have no Idea what this is,” she admitted to Rhysand, and the male cocked his head to one side with a grin.

“They’re theater tickets, for tomorrow night.”

“Theatre?” Ariadne opened her eyes, this time in surprise, while Rhysand only raised a nonchalant shoulder, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I’ve noticed you like to hum to yourself when you think no one’s hearing. And Rhiannon mentioned how your eyes practically lit up when you saw the performers at the Rainbow. So I thought you might enjoy a function.”

Something in her chest tighten at the thought Rhysand being this attentive towards her. But it still didn’t surprise her that much, he always seemed to know how to read her before she learned how to read him.

“That’s…really thoughtful, thank you,” she smiled, genuinely smiled at him for the first time since they had met.

“But…” Ariadne raised her eyes from the tickets in her hands to look at him, one eyebrow higher than the other.

“But?”

“There’s a but,” it wasn’t exactly a question.

“There’s no…” Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow, and when Ariadne saw the amusement in his violet eyes, she sighed and lowered her head again. “Okay fine, there is a but,” she swallowed hard, not being able to gather the courage to look up as she talked. “I don’t…know what a theatre is,” she felt stupid, as if it was something she should know by logic, but Rhysand didn’t mock her or made fun of her in any way, but instead seemed to be unaware of the little smirk that slipped on him.

“You will, tomorrow night.”

Ariadne simply nodded, and sighed when silence settled over them. Something in her heart was threatening to pound so hard she knew he would hear her if he concentrated, so she quickly opened her mouth to avoid that happening, if it hadn’t already did.

“There’s two,” she held out the two pieces of paper, and Rhysand nodded.

“Great observation.”

“There’s two because…” Ariadne raised one of her eyebrows, and he gave an only step closer.

“Because I will go with you.”

At his words, she tried harder to lower the overwhelming beats of her heart, knowing for a fact Rhysand had already had to hear it. Ariadne swallowed discreetly, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“You will?”

“Yes,” he answered with no hesitation, making her look up at him.

There was only pure, total seriousness in his violet gaze, making Ariadne all the more confused.

“Why?” She couldn’t help the tone of her question, and quickly bit her words down at how harsh it had sounded.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Ariadne, I bought two because I love the theatre,” he shifted his weight on his feet as if uncomfortable, putting his hands in his pockets and adverting his eyes from hers.

Ariadne cursed herself internally for not figuring that out earlier. And felt embarrassed as she look down to the two theatre tickets.

“Yeah, right. Im sorry.”

Silence settled for a long while, Ariadne waited eagerly for him to walk away and stop making her feel the hot shame on her cheeks, yet that did not happen, as Rhysand never seemed to get the hint of her heartbeats sounding like hammers against her chest.

“So…are you coming with me, Ariadne?” Her name rolled off his tongue like sweet honey, coating each syllable with slow precision.

Ariadne raised her head towards him again, analyzing the harshness and softness of his stare, the angles of his face that hinted something else hidden in those sharp lines.

Today had been an unbelievable day, one full of feelings she had never thought she could feel again, and so it may have been those mixed feelings that made her heart flutter with the tiniest bit of excitement, and smile at the male staring at her with galaxies in his eyes to mutter words she probably will regret later.

“I would love to.”

[shallyne]

Feysand Week Day Seven

This is part of my Biscuit Series but you do NOT have to read the rest of the series for that oneshot. It's just a lot of oneshots in a random order

Feyre was stressed. She didn't expect it would be easy to plan a wedding but she wouldn't have expected all the tiny steps in between were very important. One extra step was her own fault because she insisted on having her cat being part of the wedding. Biscuit played a big factor that Feyre and Rhysand even were where they are now. They had grown closer over taking care of Biscuit, they had found her together and Rhys was the only other person who Biscuit trusted as much as she trusted Feyre. Most of the time.

It would be a small party, simple. As much for Feyre's sake as it was for Biscuits sake. Everytime Feyre mentioned that her cat would be a part of her wedding people made this face that told her that they thought she was absolutely weird but Feyre didn't care. Rhys understood and that was all that matters.

Sighing, Feyre pushed the planner to the side and took a look at the color swatches when suddenly a purring sounded from her side. "Oh, hello Biscuit." she said in a baby voice, heaving her on Feyres lap where Biscuit curled together. "That's a surprise, you're not in your hammock." she kissed the top of Biscuit's head quickly before she turned away. She suppressed a laugh at the annoyed look Biscuit threw her. "I ordered cat biscuits for you but don't tell Rhys."

"Don't tell me what?" Rhys asked.

Feyre looked over her shoulder, where Rhys stood at the counter of the open kitchen and shrugged off his jacket. "That you buttoned your shirt wrong." she told him and the moment it took him to check and realize that Feyre lied, she changed the topic, "How's Naya?"

Rhys sighed, "My mother almost bit my head off when I went into her sewing room because she was working on your dress. Don't worry, I didn't see it, she made sure." he flopped down on the couch beside Feyre, scratching Biscuits between her ears. "She's good, excited for the wedding. So is Selene." Rhys's sister. "And my Father kept asking about wearing a suit."

"You told him no suits, right? Biscuit is afraid of middle aged men in suits!" Feyre said.

"Biscuit is also afraid of peas." Rhys snorted, watching the cat resting on Feyre's lap.

"That's why we won't have any!" she replied, grinning at Rhys.

He rolled his eyes but smirked, "Yes, I told my father about the no-suits rule. Although I can't remember a day in my life when he didn't wear one."

Feyre clicked her pen in thought, careful not to disturb Biscuit, "Maybe it will be fine if he doesn't tug his shirt into his pants and leaves the jacket. We'll have to test that." Feyre made a note on a small piece of paper and tugged it into the planner.

When she looked back at Rhys, he was already watching her with a serene expression. He twirled a strand of hair around his finger. "I can't wait to finally call you my wife, you know that?"

"You already do that." she giggled, taking his hand.

"I can't wait to officially call you my wife." he countered, clearly satisfied with his answer. Feyre leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his lips. He smiled when she pulled back and sighed, "By the way, why did I get an email about an order confirmation from a pet bakery?"

Shit, did she use his email address? Feyre shrugged, "Weird," she only said, going back to planning their wedding.

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @edgyellie @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader @officialfeysandweek2023