#and now I gently hand Elaine back to you after giving you options

[letterboard-fantasy]

i saw harlequinn and yeeted so fast /j I hand Elaine as a sacrifice to any slot you want owo

ELAINEEEE queen

There are a few roles I can see Elaine fitting in!! Some of them are hero roles, some grey roles, and some villainous roles... I'll talk a little bit more about each role's personality and roles in the story under the cut <33 (also obligatory harlequinn posting/j)

The Theatre of Darkness: Deep-Cut Poetry [Options]

Essence A-Tier | Forgotten Poem

Forgotten Poem is a grey character with a secondary skin!! She's one of the many victims of the tragedies that happened on the school's 4th floor. She's called the Forgotten Poem because they were the only victim who couldn't be identified after her death, leading to her name being "forgotten" in history :( and it's been so long that she's forgotten her own name too... leading to her calling herself the "Forgotten Poem"

In the storyline, Forgotten Poem's seen around a lot on the 4th floor and holds a lot of lore importance for being a character with an unknown past and non-existent future. She's a spirit on the shyer side, but oftentimes holds items required to move deeper within the 4th floor.

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Shop A-Tier | Bound to the Past

Bound to the Past is another grey character. Bound to the Past is a friendly spirit who excels in storytelling, and acts like of like a living record of the past. They know all the stories of the ghosts on the 4th floor, what lead them to their demise, and much much more.

Bound to the Past is a curious character because they don't see Lenore as a real person. Something about Lenore is wrong/doesn't make sense to BthP. But they're often very useful when it comes to dealing with more aggressive spirits, like 4th Floor Dissension or Warning Sign. While working underneath Safety Lullaby... they're rather passive, not trying to capture Lenore when they see her.

---

Essence B-Tier | Past Literature Club

Past Literature Club... Well, PLC is a group of 3 b tiers all combined under one name!! They're a club that used to meet on the 4th floor's grand library and they would read through all the library's new arrivals to determine if the books being sent to the prestigious school were appropriate, and where those books would go. They'd also participate in keeping up the maintenance of the school library, so everyone could enjoy a nice and clean library to study in.

Past Literature Club serves as Lenore's allies throughout the story and often treats her like the 4th member of their club they had never gotten.

The 1st club member is Delora, who is the young organizer of the club. She was in charge of cleaning the library and organizing club lunches and takes on this sisterly role for her other clubmates.

The 2nd club member is Jessie, who is like the muscle of the group. She's very strong and carries around crates of books with ease. Because of her strength, she takes it upon herself to protect the other clubmates in dangerous situations.

The 3rd clubmate is Danni, who's the more smart and knowing one They're very familiar with the layout of the 4th floor, including all the secret passageways around. They're more suspicious of Lenore than the other 2 and doesn't mess around.

The Theatre of Darkness: Hotline 2047 [Options]

Essence A-Tier | Amusia

You know Amusia!! And you love Amusia!! But, just as a mandatory recap, Amusia is the second companion of Gracie [Korrie] and it shares a name with the condition amusia [a condition marked by inability to produce music] because... lore reasons. Similar to Gamebreaking Glitch [Red], Amusia is a "broken" character, in terms that they don't work as they are supposed to. This causes them to be regarded as glitches, but because Amusia's glitch isn't as severe as Red's glitches, Amusia often goes around undetected... until someone gets hurt, that is.

Amusia is, despite everything, a good guy. gal? A good pal. Even if many of their abilities cause harm to befall others, they're a good creation. Amusia's one of Gracie's closest friends and they carry lots of lore importance. But biggest of all??? Amusia is baby.

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Shop A-Tier | Passenger in Blue

The passenger in Blue is the first (and only lol) red option. They work with Otherworldly Guest [Harlequinn] to try and capture Grace and her companions on the subway train, and often try extreme methods of capture that just don't... work.

They’re not a bad person exactly… but the people that they work for? The company is definitely bad… little lore drop but PiB and OG were both kind of forced into their villainous positions in the essence. For OG, it revolves around a sickly loved one and an inability to take care of them. For PiB, it revolves around keeping something important to them open/in business.

[ofduskanddreams]

Truth or Dare, Azriel?

For @panicatthenightcourt :) The request: Gwynriel and Elucien. Tipsy truth or dare and maybe things get a little bit messy? I chose to make this a modern AU since it wasn't specified hehe.

A/N: It's implied that they've been drinking but let me assure everyone that they're still fully in control of themselves. There is no infidelity in this fic, everything is consented to by all parties involved.

Gwynriel & Elucien ✦ Rated M ✦ 1.3k words ✦ on AO3

Azriel dropped his head onto Gwyn’s shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the scents of sunscreen and lavender shampoo.

The bonfire was crackling merrily and carving a pool of orange out of the deep violet night. Crickets chirped, frogs trilled, and the lake water lapped gently at the sand.

He was tipsy.

Gwyn smelled fucking amazing.

There were still four days left of their vacation.

He was at his favorite place with his favorite people.

It was too….

No. 

Azriel sat up, blinking against the firelight and reminding himself that he was allowed to have this without the constant fear of it being stripped away.  

Some things were truly good. Other shoes didn’t always drop.

“Everything alright, Az?” Elain asked. She was curled into Lucien’s side across the fire from them.

“Yeah, fine. I just spaced out.” He hoped his face betrayed nothing. The last thing he needed was for Lucien to spend the rest of their vacation calling him Sadzriel again. 

“Okay,” Gwyn exclaimed with a clap of her hands. “We are going to play a game because it’s too early for us to be getting tired. Besides, we need to give them—” she jerked her head toward the house on the hill “—more time before the cabin will be safe.”

Half an hour earlier, Nesta had dragged Cassian away from the fire claiming she was “tired.” Rhys and Feyre made their excuses not long after.

Gwyn had a point. Even if they wanted to go to bed right now, Azriel knew none of them would be able to fall asleep due to the volume of the others' activities. It was the one downside of this pine-sheltered haven on the lake. 

“What kind of game?” Lucien asked.

Azriel turned to his right. The flames danced tangerine in the teal reflection of Gwyn’s eyes making them gleam with a devilish light. 

His girlfriend shot him a sly smile. “Truth or Dare.”

Elain grinned, “I��m in.” 

“Me too,” Lucien said with a huff of laughter. 

“Az?”

His past experiences of Truth or Dare weren’t what Azriel would call fond memories. Then again, maybe that was an unavoidable consequence of playing with Rhys and Cassian instead of being the fault of the game itself. And the way Gwyn was looking up at him all wide-eyed and lower lip caught between her teeth the way she knew drove him crazy….

“Fine, I’m in too.”

“Don’t sound so excited about it,” Lucien chuckled and Azriel threw an empty beer can at his head.

“If you had my memories of Truth or Dare, you wouldn’t be so psyched about it either,” Azriel grumbled. 

It didn’t take long for the game to spiral in the direction that Azriel had been dreading. They made it once around the circle and then it was Elain’s turn again. He knew it was going to be bad no matter which option he chose. The world may think Elain Archeron the epitome of sweet kindness, but those close to her knew better than to fall to that facade. Elain Archeron could be the devil in disguise.

“Truth or dare, Azriel?” she asked, her tone intentionally disarming.

Knowing Elain for as long as he had, he knew she knew things about him that few did—that Gwyn didn’t. Not yet, at least. They’d been together for a year but some things he wanted to share were so weighty that a year might not be strong enough to hold them. To choose “truth” would be too risky.

“Dare.” Azriel leaned back, leveling Elain with a look of challenge to belie his fear of her next words.

“I dare you to kiss Lucien. For at least five seconds. With feeling.”

And Elain looked so smug at that, Azriel couldn’t help but laugh. Lucien was very attractive. Had they met in a bar and weren’t attached, he’d waste no time. “What do you say, Lucien?”

Lucien wore a smirk as he pushed off the log to stand. “If the ladies want a show, and you are willing, who am I to deny them?”

Azriel rose, moving until they were standing nearly chest to chest. “Oh, if it’s what the ladies want, I’m all in.” 

He shot a questioning glance toward Gwyn over his shoulder. It was only a fun game if everyone thought so, if she didn’t want him to do this he wouldn’t. But Gwyn was smiling, and she waved her hands as if to say by all means, please continue.

So, Azriel reached and tangled his fingers in the thick red hair at Lucien’s nape. He winked at Gwyn. “I always have had a thing for redheads,” and then he stepped into Lucien’s space.

Lucien was slightly taller than him. Azriel had forgotten until he had to tilt his chin at the last second. The kiss started out questioning: hi there, hello—drawing back, a second chaste brush and press—we’re doing this, yes we are.

Then it turned exploratory: how good of a kisser are you?—adding pressure—very good I’ll have you know—Lucien’s hands on either side of his jaw, tipping Azriel’s head as he took control. Azriel nipped Lucien’s lower lip in response to the challenge.

Someone wolf-whistled. Probably Gwyn. Azriel took that as his cue to slow, and Lucien did the same.

The kiss ended sincerely: that was rather nice—a strong press—it was, wasn’t it—parting, then coming back for one last peck, featherlight and lingering.

They stepped away from each other, smiling. Lucien offered Azriel his hand, “Nice work.”

Azriel shook it, “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

Lucien rolled his eyes and went back to sit beside Elain. “Was it everything you hoped for?”

Elain, whose red cheeks (though not as red as Gwyn’s when Azriel looked) were answer enough, but she huffed a laugh, “And then some. I don’t know what I expected but that was… something.” 

Lucien arched an eyebrow, glancing between Azriel and Gwyn with a silent question. Azriel couldn’t deny that the idea intrigued him, but that was something to think about for another night. Now he needed revenge.

“Elain—Truth or dare?” Azriel already knew which one she would choose, but they had to play the game. 

“Dare.” 

Just as he had hoped.

“I dare you to ask Gwyn to go skinny dipping in the lake with you right now.”

“Oh,” Elain feigned surprise. “So that’s how it’s going to be? What do you say, Gwyn, should we give the boys a taste of their own medicine?”

“Now hold on. That wasn’t—” Azriel’s half-hearted protest was interrupted when Gwyn stood up and tugged off her (it was actually his, but she’d stolen it) hoodie.

“There is nothing I would like more,” Gwyn replied with a wicked-looking grin aimed at Azriel. 

Elain and Gwyn walked down the beach, a trail of discarded clothes marking their path to the lakeshore. 

Slowly, Azriel and Lucien rose and turned as one, as if there were little more than puppets on strings. 

Inky water swallowed pale limbs and soft curves as they walked further out. The two women seemed to glow in the light of the nearly full moon reflecting off the breeze wrinkled surface of the lake. They were ethereal, otherworldly, like nymphs or sirens.

Azriel glanced at Lucien to find the man already looking at him. They exchanged nods, starting to follow the trail their girlfriends had left behind.

Gwyn and Elain stopped when the water was just below their shoulders. He wasn’t sure who moved first, but the next thing he knew their hands were in each other's wet hair and they were kissing. 

“Fuck me.” The words sounded like they’d been punched out of Lucien’s gut.

“Yeah,” Azriel breathed. He shared the sentiment.

“Well boys,” Gwyn’s voice carried over the water. “Are you going to just stand there or are you going to join us?”

✦ ✦ ✦

tagging: @damedechance @talons-and-teeth @krem-does-stuff @iftheshoef1tz @thelovelymadone @mmiscbutterflies @shadowriel @foundress0fnothing @sunshinebingo @octobers-veryown @areyoudreaminof @moonpatroclus @separatist-apologist @kingofsummer93 @velidewrites @wittyrejoinder @bagelfyre @itsthedoodle @sv0430

[captmickey]

Cravin some plunderbunnies and a baby so.

“Rrgh. I dunno. Could we just sand down all of the sharp corners? Would that be possible?”

Elaine clicked her tongue, brushing her thumb along the sharp edge of the table. 

Nothing seemed to be broken or damaged, from what she could gather… which was good, in her opinion. Of course, it’s not that she cared really, furniture can always be bought, repaired or simply thrown away. The only reason it mattered was because in the arms of her husband who was pacing back and forth, gently shushing and saying comforting words was the sobbing child who ran head first into the sharp table.

“So what’s the verdict?” Guybrush asked. “Guilty or innocent?”

“Well, innocent in that it did nothing but be here.” She stood up, brushing the dirt off her hands as she looked at the weeping child, gently pushing his blond bangs out to see the already forming bruise. “Even if it gave sweet little Lucas a bump.”

“Not his fault.”

She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Guybrush, he ran into the table.” 

“Not his fault.” Guybrush said once more with further certainty. 

“How so?”

“Because it had the audacity of being sharp.”

“We told him not to run.”

“He’s a kid, Elaine. And kids run all the time. You tell me you didn’t run around the house or mansion or what have you and didn’t run into something after being told not to.”

Elaine looked over at Lucas, seeing his cries quiet down slowly, small fingers playing slightly with Guybrush’s shirt. If there was something Guybrush had an absolute knack for, it was calming Lucas. Usually it was in the form of silly voices or stories, but this time it was acting as his lawyer if the way the two blonds looked at her was any indication. 

She smirked and crossed her arms. Alright, she thought, if I must play the role of prosecutor, then so be it.

“Alright, I’ll concede to that, perhaps I did do that as a child.” Elaine chuckled. “However, suppose the table is guilty–”

“It is.” Lucas muttered under his breath, undoubtedly not knowing what guilty means just yet, but he gathered the clues with how Guybrush kept saying it.

“Right, suppose it is. What would you propose is the proper punishment?”

Guybrush pondered for a moment. “We could throw it out.”

“And where will we eat our meals, darling?”

“Okay, throwing out is not an option. Maybe we can chop it up into firewood?”

“Fire? On a ship? Are you mad?”

And now her husband frowned, brushing a hand through his hair and ruffling it into a mess. She knew he was trying to cheer up Lucas and she appreciated it, yet she couldn’t help but feel just slightly smug at winning her ‘case’. 

“Rrgh. I dunno. Could we just sand down all of the sharp corners? Would that be possible?”

“Hmm… that might not be a bad idea, actually.” Elaine tapped a finger on her chin. “Would make things less pointy during the more ah, rougher moments at sea if we were to be here.”

“Wait, really? I was half-asssssssssuming that answer.”

“Nice save.”

“Thanks.”

Elaine chuckled and leaned forward, giving Guybrush a kiss on the cheek. “You have great ideas, Guybrush.”

“Not as great as yours, Laineykins.”

“Ugh.” Lucas groaned, burying his face into Guybrush’s neck. “Gross.”

The two giggled as Elaine once more brushed the hair off Lucas’s face, giving a small kiss on the bruise. “I take it you’re feeling better.”

“....yeah…”

“And what have we learned, kiddo?” Guybrush asked.

“No running when mommy and daddy say so.” Lucas admitted defeat, resting his head on Guybrush.

“Attaboy.” Guybrush shifted Lucas in his arms to be more comfortable. “Now let’s get that battle injury fixed up.”

“Will I get a cool scar?” Lucas asked, his eyes wide.

“‘Fraid not, kiddo.”

“Aw, darn.”

Elaine chuckled and looked at the table. It shouldn’t be too hard to sand out the corners, she figured.

[mardereads19]

Elriel Month 🌸🦇

Day 16:

Special thanks to @themissyvonne for giving me ideas on what to write for day 16. ♥️

Defending herself.

Elain had wanted to learn that, but no matter how many maneuvers Azriel taught her, she was having trouble performing them. Was it really so important that she learned?

“Yes. It is,” Azriel answered with a straight face. Elain had not meant to think out loud.

Today, they were on the roof of the River House —an hour before she was meant to be on the other side of the Sidra working on Marlowe’s garden. The sun had just risen over the horizon, but the sky was still somewhat dark. Azriel’s shadows were not around, something that both confused and saddened her —she had become so used to their presence. But Azriel’s eyes seemed clearer, more focused. More human.

Elain sighed and repositioned herself in the middle of the ceiling. Azriel approached her, his steps as silent as ever. “Let me teach you an easier one.” Elain nodded. “May I?” he asked and gestured to her neck.

“Mhmm,” Elain uttered, unsure of what else she was supposed to say to Azriel asking permission to touch her neck. Her mind came up with many different answers, all of them ending with Azriel hopefully touching other parts of her, too.

Azriel stumbled on his last step and his eyes searched her face. Elain swallowed. Had she said that out loud, too? They stayed looking at each other for a few seconds, then Azriel finally closed the distance and placed his hands on her neck. She swore she could feel his touch reverberating all over her. Felt it on the tips of her fingers.

Her heart beat sped up.

His eyes kept locked on hers as he said, “If you nail at least five of the moves I’ve been teaching you today,” he nodded, glancing at her lips, “then we can move the learning to a room.”

Elain felt anticipation building up inside of her and she let her eyes drop to his lips, too. Her nose caught a slight difference in his scent.

He smiled, “First you learn here, Elain.”

She met his eyes again, noticing the promise shining bright in his hazel eyes. She smirked, she had always liked a challenge.

“Good.” He clasped his hands around her neck, but the pressure was minimum. “It’s important that you learn to defend yourself no matter what, but especially now that you’re a spy. There is always the chance that you’ll be discovered and our enemies will want to repay you for your job.”

She liked the sound of our from his lips. His enemies are my enemies. My enemies are his. Ours.

“If anyone ever had you on this chokehold, here is what I want you to do.”

Azriel taught her various options, ranging from pressing her thumbs inside of her opponents eye sockets to pushing his arms outwards with her forearms. Elain practiced with Azriel until he nodded, satisfied.

“One move down,” he announced.

“That has to count as more than one.”

He smirked. “Different variations of the same move don’t count.”

Elain laughed and raised an eyebrow at him. “If that’s what you want.”

Azriel got close enough that she felt his breath on her face. “What I want is that you learn how to keep yourself safe.”

And she found that so attractive.

Elain lifted herself on her toes and kissed him before he could step away, but he deepened it. When she broke the kiss she shoved him away half-heartedly. “Four moves more, right?”

Azriel chuckled and moved behind her. “The next one, then.”

Elain learned two more moves in the span of half an hour. Perhaps she had always just needed the correct motivation. The sky had lightened by the time Azriel was beginning to teach her the fourth move.

“Sometimes we forget that being quiet is a skill others can learn, too. You may be distracted, or maybe the person really is stealthy and then...” Azriel grabbed a fistful of Elain’s hair from behind her, but did not pull. “It is an easy way to drop you to the floor, unless you are prepared on what to do when you lose your footing.” He taught her what to do in case she fell, and then moved on to teach her how to avoid falling in the first place.

“You have to be quick in taking a step backwards with your right leg.”

“Why the right leg?”

“Because I’ve seen how you favor your right side, it’s your dominant side. You always want to make the important moves with your dominant side.”

Elain nodded. “Okay.”

He grabbed her hair once more. “Let’s go again.”

When Azriel lightly pulled her hair, Elain took a step back with her right leg, but without looking where to place it and with her center of gravity being off, her foot landed wrong. Next thing she knew she was on Azriel’s arms and an acute pain bloomed in her ankle.

She yelped as stars covered her vision and Azriel slowly set her down. Elain covered her face and suppressed the urge to roll around like a kid. She felt her heartbeat on her right ankle and lifted the leg off the floor, not even caring that she was till in a skirt.

“It’s going to be okay,” Azriel said as grabbed her calf and gently extended Elain’s leg, lowering it to the ground, but he did not sound so sure. He sounded pained, too. She cried out again as the back of her heel rested on the floor, a sob escaping her lips. Azriel softly removed her shoe and touched her ankle. Elain moaned in pain and silent tears finally escaped down her face. However, soon after he touched her, the pain disappeared.

She lay still on the floor, sure that if she moved again, the pain would return. Something cold touched her ankle and she finally glanced down. The shadows had come back from wherever they had been hiding and Elain saw Azriel placing ice bags on and around her foot.

Beneath the ice, there was a cobalt glow. A brace made out of Azriel’s power. Sure enough, one of his siphons was gleaming.

“It will help for a while, but I don’t think you’ll be going to any faerie’s house today.” There was a crease between Azriel’s brows as he gently touched Elain’s foot. He shook his head. “I’m sorry this happened.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” Azriel looked at her with an impassive face, but she had a feeling he didn’t believe her. She sat up awkwardly, trying not to shift too much. “Isn’t it obvious that training might entail injuring myself?”

Azriel looked down at her foot. “I should have been more careful in teaching you that move.”

“No,” Elain reached out and lifted his chin until he was looking at her. “You taught me well. Accidents happen, Azriel.”

“It shouldn’t have happened with me around.” Then she saw him clench his jaw.

Elain needed to take that disappointment, that guilt, away from his expression. She said the first thing that came to her mind.

“I hope this means you’ll lower my fee to three moves instead of five.”

He met her gaze, but he was still wearing his neutral mask. “This isn’t funny, Elain.”

“I’m being completely serious right now, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel searched for something in her eyes, but before he could say anything, Feyre materialized behind him. Elain dropped her hand and Azriel watched it as she placed it on her lap.

“What happened?” Feyre walked over, stopping next to Azriel, looking down at Elain’s ankle with worry. There was a cup of tea in her tattooed hand.

Elain waved her hand at her sister. “Nothing I can’t handle.” But that wasn’t true. She could not handle the pain on Azriel’s eyes, like he was the one hurt. No —like he had been the one who hurt her.

She hoped she could recover soon, so she could teach him just how much stronger he had made her, instead.

[demonprincezeldris]

Now that Ban knows that the little mer can speak he’s happy to continue their conversation. He gently cups his cheeks and guides him into a soft kiss, startling and flustering Meliodas. And that’s the thing, Meliodas has a name! Ban felt a wave of adoration pouring over him at the thought that he’s been trusted with a siren’s name. Traditionally magical creatures don’t give out their real names, that’s why his fairy friend Harlequin, Elaine’s brother, only goes by King in public. It’s an old belief that giving ones name out gives power over them. That’s why he came up with the nickname s Greeny and Red for him and his brother instead of simply asking, although he hadn’t been aware asking was an option at the time.

Meliodas’ hearts beat quickly as he brought into the kiss. Why is he doing this? Why would he tell a human his name!? Let this human hold him and kiss him like that!? What… what did Ban do to him!? It’s strange and frightening and he wants to pull away but there’s a part of him that also wants to push closer. Ban… Ban is a really handsome human… he’s known that because he remembers thinking of how cool he looked before he capsized his boat. Back when he was little more than food that needed to be taught a lesson. Is this… is this love like what Zeldris somehow managed to find with that ginger human?

Meliodas is confused and scared and when Ban awkwardly flips them so that Mel is pinned underneath him he startled. Ban shushes him, softly rubbing a hand along his cheek as he looked into those beautiful, wide green eyes adoration. He’d first started calling Meliodas ‘Greeny’ because of his pretty white and emerald tail… but his eyes are what truly catches him. They’re so wide and scared as he starts peppering little butterfly kisses along the mer’s face.m, squirming a bit.

“Wh-what are h-you-“

“Shhhh, just relax Little One. I’m not hurting ya…”

“Wh-what are you doing then!? Wh- why are you-“

“I’m showing you the truth.”

“T-truth!?”

“You’re scared I’m gonna hurt ya, been hurt by humans before right? That’s why you ran away when I kissed ya… I’m showing you what I want… you’re beautiful, Meliodas. All pretty and spunky and you know how to fight. I like that. I like ya, and I wanna show you that ya don’t need to be scared of me.”

The mer quiets down after that, shocked. Was- was this human trying to court him? He’s not sure, he doesn’t know much about courting rituals, being so young. He knows the basics, that Deriere and Monspeet were always together before the humans caught them, that Galand always said he never found a mate because mers mate for life wand he never found someone he tolerated enough for that, and he understood some of the instincts… but he never understood the specifics. Never had a chance to learn them.

Ban, seeing the mer deliberate over something, continues his soft exploration of the mer while he peppered him with more affection. While he wants nothing more than to claim the siren for himself he has to be careful. This isn’t about his wants and needs, it’s about Meliodas! Proving himself to the siren and showing him that now that he’s found him there is no escape, no reason to escape either.

He doesn’t know where this affection for the siren came from, he was always the wary one. The one who hated the sea demons the most. Then he went and got attacked by the prettiest siren boy he’d ever seen and instead of killing him he just hurt him badly enough to scar and left him. Now that he knows that Red is part of his pod, the only member left really, he understands that incident a lot more. He remembers seeing him playing with Red in the waves and seeing the healing bruise on Red’s face. Protective older brothers would do anything for their younger siblings, that’s true for all species.

So he let them be and just watched them from afar, making sure Merlin’s kid doesn’t get himself turned into siren food when he fixated on the younger one. He couldn’t help but find the younger human’s adoration of the red siren and Red’s own attempts at wooing him with little shells, fish, and trilling songs to be cute. Then the storm came… and he found the blond on the beach, terribly injured and weak. He remembers feeling his heart stop at the sight and rushing over, desperate to check if the mer is alright. He wasn’t thinking of the consequences then, wasn’t thinking of the fact this was a siren who’s been shown to distrust humans. All he could think of was that pretty green siren was crying out so pitifully and he was covered in so much sand and debris that he looked half dead as he laid still, breathing shallow. That his scales were so dry and flaky and bleeding from being out in the sun too long while netting trapped his tail between two sharp rocks. That when he finally freed the siren enough to move him, and he gently cradled him, the little ones eyes cracked open just enough for him to clearly see the shining green eyes that now captivated him as he stared down at the shy mer. The mer who just gave him his name, the highest form of trust a magical creature could bestow.

I'm honestly loving the story you're creating here, anon. I really am!

[theoceanfaewriter]

Two Illyrian Babies

Merry Christmas @illyrianwitchling!! have a semi angsty Nessian baby as your christmas giftie 💕💕🦇

Nesta paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, emotions roiling in her belly. She fiddled with the ring on her finger, a nervous tic she had developed after her and Cassian’s wedding. 

Her whole world had changed that morning. And to think, a small pink line on a stick had sent her into a fit of anxiety. It wasn’t like she and Cassian didn’t want kids, it was just that they hadn’t ever talked about it. 

Ok, maybe lately she’d thought more and more about a miniature Cassian running around the house, but now that she was faced with it? She was terrified. What if Cassian didn’t want a child? And maybe she was overthinking, but what if he dumped her and the baby? Already she felt a connection to the life growing inside her. She was keeping it, no matter what. 

She took a deep breath. Regardless of what happened, today was Christmas Eve, and she wanted to make it special for Cass. 

She’d spent weeks planning dinner and fending off dinner invitations from their friends. As much as they loved them, they’d decided to spend their first Christmas as a married couple just the two of them. 

Nesta scrubbed a hand over her face, finally giving up on running a marathon in their living room before collapsing on the couch. 

Her mind whirled. How was one supposed to do this? Have a long talk, or some kind of fun reveal? Hell, Nesta wasn’t feeling up for that. Puking your guts up all morning tended to take the life out of a person.

She sighed and stretched out, pillowing her head on her arms, the pregnancy test still tightly clutched in her hand. She’d close her eyes for just a minute, she decided. It wasn’t like she was going to fall asleep. Nesta had done enough of that, not waking up until ten this morning. 

^

Cassian paused on the top step of his and Nesta’s house. No clashing and banging was coming from the kitchen, and yes, no swearing, which was unusual when Nesta cooked. She made more of a mess than she made food, and with the amount of f-bombs dropped, it was a miracle the kitchen hadn’t exploded by now. 

He quietly opened the door, only to find his spitfire wife snoring softly on the couch, her golden-brown hair spread out on the pillow. He chuckled ruefully. Well, there went dinner. They could get take-out. 

Cassian moved closer to her, brushing her hair back from her face with a gentle hand. He froze when his hand brushed a small object in her hand. Cassian frowned at it, gently tugging it loose from her grasp. He held it up in the light, then paled.

Oh gods. Nesta was… pregnant? His mind immediately flew to how she had taken the news. Had she panicked? They’d never talked about wanting kids, but Cassian had always secretly harbored a wish to become a father. 

Nesta stirred on the couch beside him, and he whirled, caught like a kid in a cookie jar. Oops. She stretched like a cat and smiled up at him. “How was your day, love?”

Really? She wanted to talk about his day. Sure. Two could play at that game. “It was good. Fairly uninteresting. Rhys brought in doughnuts. He also hung mistletoe up everywhere in an attempt to capture your sister. I could’ve killed him.”

She laughed. “Feyre was in today? I thought she would have been prepping for dinner with Elain. Or freaking out with Az. She’s been trying to convince him to propose tonight.”

Nesta bit her lip. “And on that note…”

“Are you trying to break up with me?” Cassian attempted a lighthearted tone, but it came out more nervous than he liked. 

She paled. “What? No, no! It’s just-”

Cassian could wait no longer. “Nes, I know. I found the test in your hand.”

Her eyes widened. “But… Are you mad? Upset?”

He stared at her. “Why would I be? Gods, Nes, I’m excited. I mean, if you are too, and if it’s too much, or whatever, we can consider other options, or-” he babbled.

Nesta breathed a sigh of relief and rolled her eyes. “Idiot,” she said lovingly, and then pressed her lips to his in a searing kiss. 

Cassian pulled away. “Wait. So you’re not upset?”

She frowned. “I’m nervous, of course. I’m also excited though. Lately… I was thinking more and more about a mini you running around.”

Cassian melted. He pulled Nesta into him, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face into his chest. “Merry Christmas, Cass.”

[rhysismydaddy]

Feysand Pregnancy Fluff

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

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

____________________________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or should I say ones. 

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

I think I hate him. 

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

Nope. I know it. 

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

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

Leaving me rotund and naked before him in the mirror. 

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

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

“You look beautiful. You always do.”

That just makes me cry harder for some reason. 

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

I sniffle. “Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He should be fat, too. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Feyre, darling.” 

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

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

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

“Probably,” I laugh. 

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

“Loud. Smelly.” 

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

____________________________________________________________

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

[joysbell]

The One with the Snowstorm: Part I

It’s Summer and I’m thinking of snow. It’s obviously too hot. 

The One with the Snow Storm: Part I

###

My boots crunched in the snow and I sank with every step I took. The dense white burden was at least two feet high, and it came up to my knees. Illyrian leathers kept me warm, although they were loose, and hung from my body in an unpleasant, unattractive way—I did not care. I hated them. But in any other clothing I would freeze.

The cold was like nothing I had experienced before. Every breathe I took hurt my lungs. Any exposed skin burned. My nose felt like it was going to freeze and shatter off.

Everything was white. The trees, the village in the distance, my cabin. Yes, my cabin I reminded myself. It was covered in snow before me. It was rickety—in desperate need of repairs. Small, with only a tiny kitchenette, living room and hearth, one bedroom, one bath. A cabin meant for an Illyrian bachelor, now occupied by the village witch, the outsider, that Made fae who no one would touch, literally.

I had tried.

What I wanted was to be touched. Hard, soft, fast, slow. It did not matter. The Illyrians were beautiful, muscled, with calloused hands. And I wanted one. I hoped it would be rough. But nothing. No one would come near me.

I had tried to get liquor as well. And failed. I had also tried to gamble with some jewels I still had; but no one would play. It seemed I had a cautionary sign on my back.

Now, after months of living here I kept to myself. When I went to the village it was a brief visit, and only because I desperately needed something. I did not bother with anyone or anything and they did not bother with me. I was a ghost.

A ghost that lived in a little run-down cabin on the hill.

When I first came to the mountains, Cassian had made me an offer to stay at his residence. A place I had never seen because I had chosen the other option instead—an abandoned cabin. There had not been time to build me a proper home, Cassian had said, and had apologized. I had sneered.

I do not want you to build me a house.

Instead he insisted on slowly repairing this place. The first thing he did was install locks on my door. I let him. But I did not talk to him. I knew it was his job to check on me—Feyre had insisted. But silence was all that met him when he came.

For three months now he had come, three times a week, on schedule. Cassian brought things from my sisters, cheese, bread, flowers, books… I threw away everything aside from the books. I needed them. I did not want to eat. I did not want to decorate. But the books were an escape from all of this, and they allowed me to travel, to be someone else, to live a different life—a life I did not want to throw away.

Cassian was coming today. So, I stopped drifting away in the snow outside and picked up a few pieces of firewood in my arms. They were heavy and I was weak. All I could carry was three logs, but that would be enough for the hearth. I only lit the fire when he came, because otherwise the bat would throw a fit.

I slowly waded through the snow to my front door. I had left it ajar and the cold had crept inside. The hearth waited for me.

Once I had the fire started, I plopped myself on the couch. Barely a couch, at that. It was worn, blue, and mine. I had insisted it be brought to this place from my old apartment. It had the perfect slump, still smelled like turned wine, and made Cassian angrier than a hellhound. He refused to sit on it. Which pleased me.

I could feel him coming suddenly. He was flying fast, moving more aggressively than usual. The wind howled outside, but it was as if I could hear him, see him, flying straight down to the snow, landing as hard as a mallet to stone.

I grabbed a book and opened it, pretending I had been reading and put on the appearance that I did not want to be disturbed.

“Hello Nesta,” Cassian said, as he stepped through the door I had not locked. He gently tossed a bag on the table by the door. It thumped, obviously full of whatever he had brought. I knew he did not expect me to respond.

Not a word had been spoken from my lips to him since I had come here. I told myself today would be no different. I might look, I might glare, or smirk, or sneer, but otherwise I was mute.

Cassian never stopped talking when he came. If I were going to be silent, he would refuse to shut up.

“The bag has food, clothes, books—from Elain,” he said, rather shortly. It was always things from Elain. “She misses you—wishes you would allow a visit,” he pulled a chair back from the table and sat down.

His whole body was tense. I could see his muscles twitch beneath his leathers. His black hair was pulled tighter than it usually was, in a half bun wrapped in red thread, the rest of the tendrils hanging down against his neck. His eyes bore into me. Cassian smirked, “Sadly, I told Elain hell would probably freeze over before you allowed anyone to come here.”

I silently agreed and kept my nose in my book.

A couple minutes passed where he said nothing. Strange, unlike him to be so quiet. Slowly I looked up from my book and made a passing glance. His eyes met mine and I quickly returned to my cover of paper and words.

“There’s a storm coming. A bad storm. I am worried for you to be alone here during it. I will not be able to fly—”

Instantly, I turned and gave him a dark look of steel. I would be fine. Leave me alone, I said with a clench of my teeth.

Cassian crossed him arms, challenging my expression. Still tense, still tired, but ready to fight me.

You will not stay here.

Yes, I will. It is my job to protect you, and I will not disobey my High Lord and High Lady.

Was this conversation really happening? This was not the first time I felt as if we talked in our minds. Not the first time I looked at Cassian and knew what he was thinking, what he was saying to me and only me. It made me shirk back into my couch, clutch my book harder, and debate whether to throw it at him—

“Nesta, I am sorry to invade your sanctuary. But I will be staying. You may take the couch. I will sleep in your bed,” he finished, and started laughing. His shoulders seemed to sigh, relax.

He had a bad day. Now he was at ends with having to stay with me. Then I realized why the bag he had thrown on the table was so heavy. His things were inside.

When is this storm? I slammed my book shut and got up from my couch.  

“The storm is coming tonight,” Cassian said, and I wondered if it was an answer or a coincidence. “I’ll be out of your hair before you know it. But in the meantime, I brought some knitting to do…”

I turned from him and rolled my eyes. If he was not testing me, he was joking, the stupidest things came out of his mouth—

“Perhaps I will knit you a blanket to keep you warm, your skin and bones. I am surprised you have not died from the cold yet; it is notorious here. With no fat on you, you hardly stand a chance. If you get caught outside in a whitewash, and cannot find your way back, you will be dead in an hour.”

From where he still sat at the table, he looked me over without shame, slowly starting at my feet and working his way up to my face. It was primal.

The air between us always changed so quickly.

A storm was coming, and Cassian was going to ride it out with me.

I looked back at him with menace. The arrogance. To think I could not survive some snow. I had survived the cauldron, I had clawed my way out and took a chunk of it with me, but snow—I shook my head, and went for his bag. I picked it up and shoved it at him. A demand that he leaves.

Cassian sighed, “If you really want me to leave, I will. But” he pressed, “I might get caught in the storm on my way home. And if something happens to me, can you live with yourself?”

Absolutely, I wanted to yell at him, and at that cocky grin that replaced the lament on his face.

Yet I found myself surrender. I found myself back at a place I had not allowed myself to go in a long time. A place where I shielded a broken warrior’s body, sacrificing myself, ready to go—and then I snapped back, and found Cassian staring at me with concern.

Do not, I thought. Do not look at me like that.

Cassian stood a little taller, much taller than I, and changed his expression. He was waiting for an answer. He really was giving me a choice—a horrible one, but a choice.

Stay, I relented. Stay here. But stay away from me.

Cassian smiled. “I’m going to make your dinner.”

I wanted to throttle him. I wanted to scream because he irritated me. With that smile, that smirk, that cocky, arrogant, toned body—

Cassian’s smile grew and he turned, heading for the kitchen. I swore there was extra swagger as he moved his ass. Fucking bastard.

For a moment I prayed the storm took us both.

[silent-scythe]

Broken Love

Hello! My name is Scythe, this is my very first time posting on tumblr, I really don’t know how to lmao. This is a story that I wrote on AO3 a few months ago, but I’ll be posting it here too. Really sorry if the formatting is wonky, I don’t know how to use this lol

TRIGGER WARNING FOR: alcohol abuse, self hate, semi-descriptive mention of sexual assault, and slight sexual content. Please read at your own risk. 

༺༻

“What, do you think your mother even bothered to think about you while she was worked to death?” 

Nesta regretted it the moment those hateful words left her mouth. A part of her wanted to take back the venom she spat out, yet dignity trampled it down, keeping her spine straight and her head held high. She refused to acknowledge the pain that creeped upon her heart, instead curling her hands into fists as that maelstrom in her eyes swirled angrily. 

Her eyes were a force to behold; oh, such rage filled those cunning blue-gray eyes, like that of a wrathful thunderstorm. 

She watched, not a flicker of emotion showing, as the fire in Cassian’s eyes died out, reduced to ashes. 

She wanted, ached for him to spit back at her, to argue and quarrel. 

But she knew she went too far with that remark. 

Yet pride, insufferable pride, refused to let her apologize. 

༺༻

Cassian felt his breath still at the sneering insult she had flung back at him. They bickered endlessly, yet it was an unspoken rule between them to never bring relatives into it.

Never.

Especially when they were dead- have been dead for five hundred years. 

Thousands of retorts came to mind, an endless collection of insults he could hurl back, yet they all died on the tip of his tongue.

Cassian could feel nothing, hear nothing, as he closed the door quietly behind him and walked out of Nesta’s apartment in deafening, roaring silence, wings tucked in tight. He did not know where he was going, and he definitely was not in the mood to fly back to the House of Wind. So he let his steps carry him to the ends of the earth. 

And he couldn’t help but think back to what Nesta had said. 

Do you think your mother even bothered to think about you while she was worked to death?

Somewhere inside him, uncertainty crept along his bones. He knew that his mother cared for him, even as he was abandoned at an Illyrian camp with nothing but himself. But what if he was wrong? Five centuries later, his only recollection of his mother was a hazy, warm face. 

Oh, and the screams and body-wracking sobs that she had let out as he was taken away. 

His mother had left him with an amulet, a necklace of ruby the same brilliant carmine color as his seven siphons. He chose to give it to Nesta. Yet that was at the bottom of the Sidra, thrown in there after she refused to accept it, telling him that she wanted nothing from him and leaving.

Oh, how he loathed himself. 

༺༻

Nesta stood there, fists clenching and unclenching, as she processed what just happened, replaying the events over and over again. 

She should have never said that. She had never hurt Cassian so deep before, so thoroughly that he had left, just left. Without firing some stinging retort back at her. 

And what killed her the most? He was a good male. In her heart, she knew that he was worth everything in the world. Gods, he had even closed the door quietly, not slamming it like she would’ve undoubtedly done. 

She finally shook herself out of her stance, pacing around her messy, drab-gray apartment, dirty clothes flung everywhere, cobwebs on the corners of the walls.

And so, Nesta resorted to the only option at hand.

The only way she knew how to cope.

Oh, how she loathed herself. 

༺༻

Cassian’s steps eventually led him to the Sidra, his unkempt hair blowing in the harsh breeze. The biting cold chilled his fingertips, but he paid it no mind as he stared across the river, waves lapping gently at the sand that he stood on.

From besides him, he could feel shadows wreath him, swirling around the secluded beach, twirling in the air. 

“Not now, Azriel,” he spoke, responding to the silent shadows. “I want to be alone.”

The shadows seemed to stop, hesitating, as if saying, ‘are you sure, brother?’ before eventually blowing away, returning to their master.

The Illyrian Commander stared out across the Sidra, his gaze unfocused, eyes on the horizon. Though he did not see the point where water met land. 

No, the only thing he could see were smoldering eyes of stormy blue. 

༺༻

Nesta cringed inwardly at the cheap alcohol that went down her throat, rough and burning. She took another massive gulp.And she kept this up, until only the last dregs remained.

And then she asked for another drink.

And another.

And another.

She drank, and drank, and drank, welcoming the oblivion and the lack of emotion that accompanied this. Nesta kept at it, until her head was fuzzy and dizzy and she could not hear nor see a single thing clearly. Empty bottles lined the table she sat at.

You are worthless, a voice in her head hissed. Worthless. You do not deserve him, you do not deserve Feyre and Elain’s kindness. You should continue to waste away, until you are completely gone.

Nesta wholeheartedly agreed with whatever spoke in her mind. 

She hated herself, hated her walls of thorns, hated that she was like a plague, spreading hatred and sadness to everyone around her. 

She wished she could change. And when she realized she couldn’t change, wouldn’t change, she wished she was gone. 

A male approached her, sitting down next to her. A cruel smile slashed across his face, displaying a handsome face with striking blue eyes and cropped, dirty blond hair. Pointed ears and sharp canines added to his features. 

High Fae, then, Nesta thought. 

She could practically smell the lust and whiskey on the male.

She welcomed it. 

Nesta did not mind as a phantom hand of his grazed her leg, inching up to her thigh. She smirked at him, an invitation and a taunt. 

Soon enough, she grabbed his hand harshly, and they were in her bedroom within minutes. 

This was the only way she could find freedom, through sex and alcohol. Perhaps she indeed was wasting away, a useless pile of garbage. Once upon a time, she would bristle at such a comparison. Now, she could only agree. 

The male entered her, and an image of Tomas Mandray crossed her mind. The foreign touch, the mortal man who had torn her clothes to pieces and pinned her on the wall, until she had screamed her throat raw and clawed her way out of his grip. She still shuddered at the memory, but she shoved it down in her brain, all the way to the back of her mind, where all these other emotions and memories and feelings and happiness were, repressed and behind a gate that Nesta would never open. 

She rode him deep into the twilight, though she did not see the male Fae.

No, the only thing she could see were fiery eyes of warm hazel.

༺༻

Cassian stayed by the riverbank until dusk, the rays of twilight sun warming him. Occasionally, he stretched his wings out, extending them and flapping once before he tucked them in tight again. Other than that, he stayed still, letting the waves lull him as he combed through memories and thoughts. 

They always seemed to rebel, to go to that one day he didn’t want to think of. The day where his wings were broken, shredded to pieces, wounds dotting his body like stars in the night sky as he laid on that battlefield, with Nesta covering him. 

I have no regrets in my life, but this. That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta. I will find you again in the next world- and we will have that time, I promise.

Those words he had spoken echoed in his mind, and he remembered the way Nesta had shielded his body with her own. 

And right before that- as Nesta had shouted, roaring his name, as he had avoided that blast of magic that would have killed him within milliseconds. 

Did he deserve that?

Nightmares still plagued his mind during the night, where he watched as his soldiers, men he grew up with, died on the battlegrounds. 

Where they had lain their lives for the war. 

Where they died, and he didn’t. 

Guilt still ate at him, reprimanding and lashing at himself for surviving when he should have died, was supposed to die with those people. He had been grateful for Elain and Nesta, who killed Hybern, yet oftentimes he still went back to that day, wondering why he was still alive when he shouldn’t be.

Cassian’s slumbering siphons flared brightly as thoughts invaded his mind. 

He watched as the sun sank into the sky, the last rays of crimson and gold died with the sun, falling below the horizon. For a moment, the atmosphere turned the same, dark shade of vermillion as his siphons.

Gradually, the sky grew dark, as night fell and stars peeked out from behind their blanket of darkness. 

Cassian lowered his head. 

Purpose sang in his body, purpose to live. If he was granted with life, he would live it to the fullest. He would pull Nesta out of that dark, dark place, no matter how long it would take. No matter how much it would hurt himself, no matter how bleak some days might be. He made a promise to himself, vowing to never admit defeat and stop trying.

Because he loved her. Truly. 

And love, unending love, refused to let him give up.

༺༻

Yeah that’s it! Leave any comments down below (are they called comments on tumblr? I think they’re like,, notes or smth? Also, prompts r nice, gimme prompts for Nessian if you want :)) love them sm. Hope u enjoyed!! I have other fanfic oneshots, which i’ll post probably after i figure out how Tumblr works

- Scythe 

[starscheme]

Change My World

Chapter Twelve: Falling For You

After’s Steven’s close call with Spinel, he tried to keep the rest of the night as light hearted as possible. He urged Spinel to try and eat something, but when she attempted to eat the food that Elaine had made, it only served to make her ill. It seemed the Gem had changed her appearance, but not much of her physiology. After all, Mermaids didn’t need to eat. As long as they were in the water, they were healthy. Once this fact was discovered, the two talked about how Steven had spent his time while Spinel was sleeping until late into the night. Though Steven insisted there wasn’t much to tell, Spinel was more curious about Elaine. She was happy to learn that Steven hadn’t spent any time with Elaine. From what she heard, it seemed that Elaine had been following him around, but he didn’t ever speak with her long.

Eventually, when Spinel began to get sleepy, Steven insisted that she take the bed and he’d sleep on the floor. Though she was embarrassed about it, Spinel insisted that they could both share the bed, but Steven refused.

Even though Spinel was certain he was just being stubborn, Steven honestly didn’t think he would be able to sleep if they were so close. The bed wasn’t that big after all.  When Spinel finally drifted off, Steven was left to stare at the ceiling, finding that sleep was quite impossible right now. Spinel had only just woken up from her long sleep earlier today, so he wanted her to take it easy. However, they had a lot to discuss later on. For example, Steven was curious to find out how all those guards were killed. They also had to go over their plans on where to go next. It’s not as though he sat idle while Spinel was sleeping for the past few days. Steven had spent his time doing research and trying to come up with the next best course of action. Though he had come up with what he considered to be the best option, he was certain that Spinel wouldn’t like it. With a long sigh, Steven closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep, there was still so much to do, and he didn’t want to slow it down by being overly tired.

Spinel woke up the next morning to the sound of heavy rain rapping against the window. As she sat up with a yawn, she noticed Steven sitting at the table looking over some maps. "...were you able to get any sleep...?" Spinel asked, still annoyed that Steven insisted upon sleeping on the floor. Did he hate the idea of sleeping beside her so much? She'd even humiliated herself by offering.

"Of course," replied Steven as he paused to look up from his work. Though he immediately regretted that decision. Spinel’s pigtails had come undone in her sleep and the collar of her nightgown seemed to have slipped down her shoulder slightly. Steven's cheeks reddened at once and his heart skipped a beat. He forced himself to look away, dropping his gaze back down to the maps. "Wh-what about you?"

Spinel frowned a bit. Now he wasn't even going to look at her? Why was he acting so strange? Before her long sleep, Steven was always so insistent on being close to her. He would unabashedly compliment her with a smile, and she would often catch him staring every now and then. Now he was refusing to sleep beside her and barely looking at her. "Could you help me get up," she asked, attempting to force his attention.

Steven flinched lightly. Though he was already nervous, he couldn't say no to Spinel. "S-sure," agreed Steven as he made his way over to the side of the bed, still having trouble looking directly at her, but offering her his hands.

Placing her hands in his, Spinel slowly shifted her aching legs over the side of the bed.

Noticing the pained expression on her face, Steven felt his nerves slip away. "Is it still too difficult to move? You don't have to force yourself."

Spinel shook her head. "It hurts a little, but it's not as bad as before. Besides, I don't just want to sit in bed all day. I have legs now; I no longer need to sit around on land."

Steven assisted in pulling her up onto her feet, only to once again feel his cheeks burn when Spinel was brought close to his chest. Though her legs were unsteady, Spinel was doing pretty well in staying upright. No doubt due to Steven's help.

Suddenly, the two were startled by a knock at the door, the surprise of it causing Spinel to lose focus and her legs folding beneath her. Steven reacted quickly, wrapping his arms around Spinel to keep her from falling over.

"Ah, thanks," breathed Spinel in relief, though a little embarrassed being held like this. It was only made worse when she glanced up to see his face. Steven was staring down at her with such concern, but his cheeks were tinted pink. Was he embarrassed too? At least he wasn't looking away like before. As they fell into silence once again, Spinel couldn't help but notice that Steven's eyes had changed. With a pink hue and diamond shaped pupils, they looked just as they did back at the camp after he disposed of all those guards. What did it mean? Without thinking, she reached up and placed her hand against his cheek, keeping her eyes locked with his.

As Spinel's fingers brushed his skin, Steven felt his heart skip once again. Though Spinel's gaze had become a bit curious, he didn't look away. Even if he knew he couldn't admit it aloud, that it would be for the best to bury these feelings that just seemed to keep growing, he was only human. When she was in his arms like this, he just couldn't bring himself to push her away. "Spinel...I—"

Just as Steven began to speak, there was another knock at the door, this time accompanied by a familiar voice. "Steven? Are you in there? I found that book you mentioned last time! I thought you might want to give it a read!"

Spinel and Steven turned their gaze towards the door now. Spinel frowned, glaring in the doors direction at the unwelcome sound of Elaine’s voice. This girl was terribly annoying.

Steven sighed, but knew it was probably for the best that he didn't get to say what he wanted. "...I should get the door," he stated before lowering Spinel to sit at the side of the bed.

As Steven was about to release her, Spinel felt a sense of panic. Steven's eyes were still not back to normal. If Elaine saw this, surely she would have questions. "W-wait," pleaded Spinel, gripping at his sleeves with burning cheeks. "Don't...don't go." Though Spinel told herself that this was for Steven's sake, a part of her knew that she just didn't want him to follow along with Elaine’s attempt to get his attention. She couldn't help feeling a little possessive. Why would Steven let her go so that he could speak with that girl?

Steven was sure his heart had stopped when Spinel asked him to stay. "I-I'm not going to leave. I was just gonna answer the door," he replied, trying to appear as if he were completely calm.

Spinel shook her head at once, "don't answer it. Just stay with me," she insisted stubbornly.

"You...what does that mean?" Steven asked now, unable to wrap his head around this. He didn't want to make any assumptions and upset her. Did she want him to hold her again? Was she just uncomfortable around Elaine because she was a human? Or maybe she felt unsafe when he wasn't close by because she couldn't properly stand up yet?

His question caused Spinel's entire face to turn scarlet and the disguised mermaid looked down at her lap as she clutched gently at his sleeves. "Y-you're mine," started Spinel, her voice shaking slightly. "You said...you'd help me. So you can't...I mean...you're..." Her voice trailed off when she started to hear exactly what she was saying. How could she say these things without thinking? "I-I mean, I know you don't—-it's not as if I own you. I just—-"

As Spinel stammered for some explanation for what she was saying, Steven cut her off by bending on one knee and leaning forward to wrap his arms around her once again. Even though Elaine knocked once again, neither of them seemed to hear it. Spinel forgot all at once what she was trying to say, especially when she felt his hand entangle in her hair, pressing his palm gently at the back of her head. Why was he being so affectionate with her after she had acted like a spoiled child? "Steven...?"

He was glad that Spinel couldn't see his troubled expression right now. Steven felt like such a hypocrite. Here he was just telling himself that he couldn't allow himself to feel anything for her, but one word from Spinel and he started to get his hopes up like an idiot. "Sorry. Can we just...stay like this for a moment?"

Spinel didn't say anything, but she nodded her head. Though he couldn't see her face, she prayed he wouldn't hear the sound of her heart. It was pounding so hard against her chest that Spinel was sure he must hear something. This was so confusing. A part of her wanted so much to ask him, but the other part was too afraid of being humiliated. Steven was nice to everyone, for all she knew, this level of affection was normal for him. Maybe he was like this with everyone? Perhaps she could ask something that wouldn't make her seem like she was jumping to conclusions on her own. "Steven, is this...this normal for you? I mean...you know...would you...hold...that Elaine girl...like this?" Though she did her best to phrase the question properly, it still came out awkward.

Steven had been nervous before Spinel mentioned Elaine for the second time. Though there could be several reasons why, Spinel was obviously jealous. He reluctantly pulled himself back to see her face, smiling as he met her eyes. "No. I wouldn't," he answered simply.

Spinel smiled back, but turned her head in hopes of hiding her expression. However, she'd caught a glimpse of Steven's eyes and doubled back to see that they had returned to normal. Thank goodness. "Can I...ask you one more question?" She asked, more serious now as she met his gaze once again.

"Of course," answered Steven.

"...do you know...what happened to all the guards back at the camp after they...nearly caught me?"

"Do you?" Steven asked in return, hoping that Spinel could fill the gaps in his memory. "The last thing I remember is confirming that you were safe. When I woke up...all the guards had been...murdered somehow." Steven's voice choked a bit near the end. No matter whom they were, killing someone was just too far. "...I buried them all at the campsite."

Spinel was quiet for a moment. So he didn't remember that blast of pink light, or how he'd made the ground crumble beneath him? Should she tell him? After all, Spinel knew exactly how those guards had died. She saw one hit the ground after the light hit him. He had dropped instantly and she could still see the blood that leaked from his eyes, nose, and mouth. "No..." Spinel lied, already feeling guilty for it. "I don't remember. ...there was just a pink light and that was it." In the end, Spinel didn't want Steven to carry the burden of murdering anyone. He was too kind and would surely hate himself or feel so guilty that he'd just blame himself over something he couldn't seem to control. If he couldn't remember doing it, she wasn't going to be the one to remind him of it.

"Oh, so it's the same for you," sighed Steven.

"M-maybe the Off Colors had some sort of magic set up," suggested Spinel, hoping to ease Steven's mind. "Like some sort of security measure against any humans that found the place."

"But then, why wasn't I hurt by it?"

"Y-you entered a binding contract. The magic of that spell probably protected you," answered Spinel quickly, praying that he would believe her.

Though Steven looked a tad skeptical at first, eventually he seemed to accept it. "I see. ...I should learn more about the magic that mermaid’s use I guess."

Spinel breathed an internal sigh of relief, but her quick answer suddenly reminded her that she still didn't know the terms of Steven's contract. "By the way..." she began, glancing at Steven curiously. “You never actually told me the terms of that Binding Spell."

"Oh? Um...well...it wasn't anything too serious." Steven replied, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck as he averted his eyes to the side.

"...okay, well what was it? What did you promise?" Spinel asked again, getting suspicious since he didn't seem willing to answer her straight away.

Steven sighed and returned his gaze to Spinel. He was indeed apprehensive in telling her the details. He didn't plan on keeping it to himself; he just knew that Spinel would be upset about it. After all, she was angry at him for just signing the contract in the first place. "...the conditions were that I'd be bound by my heart. If I betray you in any way...or you die under my care...my heart will stop."

Spinel's eyes grew wide and she shot up from the bed, albeit on poorly balanced legs. "Are you insane?!" She demanded. "You bet your LIFE?! What, being a traitor and a criminal wasn't enough for you?! Risking your life JUST by being around me wasn't enough?! You had to literally put your heart on the line under such vague conditions?! What constitutes a betrayal, Steven?! Who decides when you betray me?! Is there some stupid cosmic force that's gonna make a judgment call?! You're already in so much danger! Why do you have to constantly go so far?!"

"Sp-spinel, calm down. You're gonna fall," pleaded Steven, also worried about how loud she was shouting.

"Stop it," snapped Spinel. "Stop always putting me first! Is this why you've been so...affectionate with me?” She asked suddenly. “Did they actually bind your heart to mine in some way? Or since the spell tied your life to mine...you're feeling attached?" Her mind was racing and coming to all kinds of conclusions all on her own. Feeling like an idiot for thinking that Steven might actually be feeling something for her. It was probably all due to the Spell that bound his heart to her life.

"What?! No!" Steven replied quickly, getting to his feet and holding out his arms just in case Spinel fell over.

Spinel pushed against his chest in an attempt to show him that she didn't need him to fuss over her. However, she forgot how strong Steven was and how weak she had become now that she was in human form. When she tried to shove him away, she just ended up falling backward to sit on the bed and Steven didn't budge. Angry tears formed at the corner of her eyes. His heart is bound to her life, so of course he was probably confusing his feelings because he was connected to her now. “Gah, I feel so stupid! I let you risk your life again! You keep doing these things…as if you don’t care about your own safety! Why?! All I’ve ever been able to do is thank you for it! Now that you’re bound to my life…you’re only going to get worse!”

“Spinel, please, just calm down for one second,” he tried again. “Look, they weren’t going to let me stay with you if I didn’t sign that contract. Also, my heart may be bound to your life, but it has nothing to do with how I feel or act. It was my choice. I didn’t want to leave you, so I chose to bind myself. The terms didn’t matter to me at all because I knew I would never betray you or let you get hurt. I didn’t see this contract as changing anything. And I have never wanted anything in return from you. You know that.”

“You just don’t get it. You think it doesn’t change anything, but it changes everything. Steven, I…”   Spinel stopped and took a breath, wiping the tears the threatened to trail down her cheeks. “You need to value your own life more. You can’t keep getting hurt or risking your life for me. How do you think it would make me feel if you died? You did this because you didn’t want to leave me alone…but if you died I’d be left alone anyway. Your life is important to me. For you to gamble it like this, I hate it. Wouldn’t you be upset if I did something similar for your sake?”

That stung a bit. Spinel was right. If he’d found out that she’d signed anything with her life at stake, he wouldn’t like it at all. It was a selfish decision on his part to sign that contract. He just didn’t want to be separated from her so soon. He really didn’t think it through. “…I’m sorry,” he began, getting down on one knee yet again. “I…should have spoken with you first. I was just worried you would force me to leave rather than sign it and stay. It was selfish of me.” He placed his palm at her cheek tenderly, urging Spinel to look his way.

“…yes it was…” replied Spinel, stubbornly keeping her gaze from his. “Every time I think I might understand you…you do things like this. And soon it will be even worse. Since you’ve bound yourself to my life…you might start feeling attached to me…and you might confuse those feelings for something else. Binding Magic is very strong after all.”

“Anything I might feel from now on will have nothing to do with some spell.” Steven insisted, feeling slightly offended that Spinel would suggest any affection he showed her would be solely due to some contract.

“...but we don’t know that for sure…” Spinel mumbled.

“Yes we do. I know you can’t really think that. Why are you so insistent about this?”

“Because…wouldn’t that mean…it wouldn’t be our fault?” Spinel suggested, finally looking his way. “I mean, if feelings started to change, it could be because of the spell and anything that happened wouldn’t be our fault…”

“Our fault?” Steven repeated, a little taken aback. Was she doing this on purpose? Was this her way of getting back at him for the contract? No, she wouldn’t go that far. The beginning of this day had been terribly confusing. “Spinel…you’re very special to me,” he decided it was fine to at least say that much, right? “If you really want to attribute that to some spell, then you can, but it’s not going to change anything.” As Steven slowly got to his feet, he paused for just a moment to kiss Spinel’s cheek before standing upright. “I need to go and wash up, do you need anything?”

Spinel stared up at Steven in silent shock, brushing her fingers lightly against her cheek where his lips had touched. All she could do was shake her head slowly in response and Steven smiled down at her before he headed for the washroom, shutting the door behind him, leaving a surprised and confused Spinel to sit alone. How was this happening? Was it really not because of the magic placed on him? If not, how had it happened so fast? Could she even come to terms with feelings like this? Steven was a human and she was eventually going back into the ocean. He couldn’t follow after her and she certainly couldn’t stay on land forever when humans were intent on hunting down her kind. Wouldn’t it be kinder to pretend nothing had changed between them? Still, after all this, it would be difficult to feign ignorance. Even if she wasn’t entirely certain of Steven’s thoughts on all this, she could no longer deny how she was feeling. It had happened all too quickly, but Spinel was falling for Steven and she didn’t know what to do about it. 

A/N: Sorry! I know I said this chapter would be up sooner than this,  but I ended up getting home SUPER late from work and still needed to finish some of it. So it’s a little late, but here you go!

[radientwings]

Of Rainy Nights (Elriel Fluff)

This was inspired by three things: a wonderful sentence prompt from @watermilanfish and this prompt/this post from the always lovely @julesherondalex. Just a fluffy little piece involving an inn and a bed ;)

“Put me down,” Elain demanded, her heart fluttering nervously in her chest. She didn’t fight against the grip around her though, didn’t even try. Partly because she didn’t want to fall back onto the rough forest ground… and partly because she quite liked being cradled close against her best friend’s chest.

Azriel sighed and gave her the same answer he’d given the last two times she’d asked him. “No, Elain,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

“I can walk. Put me down,” she repeated.

He came to a stop, ignoring the rain getting in his eyes as he gave her a pointed look. “You can walk in pain. You’re injured, Elain.”

“It’s a sprained ankle, Az, it’s not going to kill me,” she replied, somewhat petulantly, ignoring the sharp ache in her ankle. Her cheeks still felt hot from embarrassment; she couldn’t believe she’d tripped over a rock of all things… only to stumble down a hill full of them. In front of Azriel. Mother above, she was mortified. And it was somehow made even worse when he hadn’t just laughed it off, when he’d instead dived after her, immediately fussing over her in that unfailingly kind way of his.

They were supposed to be on their way to a diplomatic mission in the human realms, for Cauldron’s sake, not stumbling about in a forest because of Elain’s clumsiness. She couldn't believe she’d allowed this to happen after all the effort it took to get here in the first place, after all the precautions they’d taken in an attempt to keep the tentative peace with the humans. They’d only walked at all at Elain’s insistence; she’d told Azriel it was best not to suddenly land in their territory with his wings out, glorious yes, but terrifying to the human eye. So she’d made him land a few hours from the border instead, adamant they made the rest of the journey on foot.

It should have been a relatively short trek. Were it not for the rocks. And the rain. And Elain being stupid and tripping.

The journey was likely to take twice as long now.

(She supposed she wasn’t making it any easier by not letting Azriel help her, but she couldn’t help it. She felt so useless. So utterly dumb.)

“Your legs are also full of cuts, lest we forget,” Azriel reminded her gently, dragging her of her thoughts. “I’d say that and the ankle is more than enough reason not to get back on your feet.”

“It was just a fall,” Elain grumbled, though her voice lost some of its vehemence.

“Yes, it was. But it was a hard fall. And that was before the rain,” he replied, still looking her in the eye as the rain around them continued to soak them. “Just let me carry you? Please? At least until we find somewhere to bed down for the night.” 

I suppose we won’t be able to reach the border with this weather anyways, Elain thought. So she finally conceded, uncrossing her arms from her chest and instead wrapping them around Azriel’s neck, letting his warmth seep into her.

“Fine,” she said, rather curtly. “But know that I am not happy about this.”

“Noted,” he replied, voice full of laughter. His arms we steel bands underneath her knees and back, cradling her with utter gentleness as he started the trek again.

They were quiet for a long while, locked in an intimate embrace that made nerves churn in Elain’s stomach. Azriel held her with ease through it all, striding over the unsteady forest path without a single stumble, not once complaining.

“Thank you,” Elain eventually murmured, when the embarrassment of it all had finally faded and left only gratitude.

Azriel looked down at her quizzically, raindrops falling over the handsome planes of his face. (Sweet Azriel, with his infinite patience.)

“For taking care of me,” she clarified. “I know I can be stubborn sometimes… and I know it can come out at the worst of times.”

“Elain, I’ve known you for nearly a decade now,” Azriel replied, smiling that little smile of his. She tried her best not to squirm in his arms. “This is hardly something you have to thank me for. Besides, I know all about your stubbornness.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead giving him a look that told him to tread carefully. “Yes, yes, I know.”

“Don’t worry. I quite like it actually. It’s a part of you are,” he said, as if it was that simple, as if that was enough of a reason for him. Before she could even remotely think of what to say to that, quiet mischief lit his eyes. “I also like the look on others’ faces when quiet Elain Archeron out-stubborns them.”

Elain felt her cheeks color again, was sure they went a bright, unmistakable red. But she supposed she shouldn’t be too preoccupied by it; as Azriel had said, he’d known her long enough to really know her… and to know that she was a quick blusher.

(Especially around him. But that was neither here nor there.)

“There’s a village up ahead,” Azriel told her after a few more minutes of steady walking. “Let’s see if we can find an inn there.”

Elain just nodded, heart fluttering oddly, words stuck in her throat. That had been happening more and more frequently lately, and she had no idea what to do with it. Azriel was one of her closest friends, after all. In fact, his steadfast friendship had been one of the main things that had helped her recover after the traumas of Hybern… that had helped her accept and even thrive in her new life. She was eternally grateful for it, for him. 

So, this new feeling that had been creeping up on her the past year or so… it scared her. She didn’t want to ruin one of the few trusted and treasured relationships she had outside her family. Cauldron, if she lost Azriel… Elain wasn’t sure she would survive it. Not after Graysen. Not after Lucien, who she’d had to let go some years back when even their mating bond wasn’t enough to keep them together.

Really, it was better to keep quiet, to hold onto all the parts of Azriel she did get. Like his mother-blessed patience or that quiet sense of humor that never failed to make her laugh. Or that beautiful smile of his. Or the way he always, always made time for her, no matter how small the problem.

Elain sighed a little as Azriel continued to walk to the village, found herself leaning her head onto his shoulder, tightening her arms around his neck. She could do this, couldn’t she? She could embrace him, take some comfort in him… right?

Either way, Azriel himself didn’t seem to mind, only shifting her slightly so he she could lay more comfortably against him.

“Almost there,” he whispered in her ear. “Try not to fall asleep just yet.”

Elain poked his leather-covered chest, smiling a little. “I’ll have you know I’m wide awake.”

Azriel chuckled. “Well in that case…” he trailed off, slowing down despite the rain falling more harshly. But it was a warm summer rain and actually rather pleasant, Elain was finding, especially now that Azriel had slowed into a stroll… especially now that he was holding her as close as possible.

She still lifted her head enough so she could give him a questioning look, asking why he’d slowed down so much. But Azriel just shook his head, wearing that small smile of his; the very same she often dreamt of. So Elain let herself sink into his embrace, the rain a warm blanket around them.

They didn’t speak any more after that. Didn’t need to fill the peaceful bubble around them with words, not after the many years of friendship they’d shared. It was like they were both savoring this moment, suspended in time together.

Getting into the village was like waking from a dream, a wonderful dream that Elain hadn’t wanted to end. But it was sadly a necessary waking, with the wind now picking up in an almost dangerous way. Azriel sped up again, wary of the darker clouds on the horizon. Elain didn’t need foresight to recognize a coming storm, so she made sure to keep her grip tight as her friend strode through the town square and tried not to linger on that peaceful bubble they’d lost.

They quickly found the only inn, stepping through into a blissfully warm and dry interior. The innkeeper was an elegant lesser faerie with midnight blue skin. She was apologetic when she informed them she only had one room left in a small cabin at the back; something about the rain bringing many unexpected visitors. Neither Elain nor Azriel were about to argue about that, the both of them just grateful to have a room at all. They took the key and braved the rain once more to get to the little cabin the innkeeper indicated, Elain firmly in Azriel’s arms the entire time. 

Somehow Azriel managed to unlock their door and maneuver his way through the narrow threshold, all without relinquishing his grip on her. He only put her down when they were firmly inside, placing her gently on the edge of the small bed pushed against the wall.

The only bed. Elain blanched at the sight.

Oh.

Oh no.

Azriel didn’t make any mention of the bed, either not noticing their current dilemma or not caring about it… and Elain wasn’t sure which option she preferred. Regardless, he seemed to be ignoring it for the moment, instead kneeling before her, gazing up at her with worried hazel eyes. “How’s the ankle?”

Elain had to force her thoughts away from their sleeping arrangements. “It’s fine. I promise.”

Azriel shook his head a little, pointing to her right leg. “Let me see?”

He waited until he had her hesitant consent before carefully taking her food in hand, removing her soaked shoe so he could better examine it. Elain shivered a little when he shifted the hem of her dress out of the way, exposing the bare skin of her calf. She’d never felt so bare in front of him before, but he didn’t seem to mind it, running scarred fingertips over her swollen ankle, glancing over all the little cuts on her legs. He was very cautious when he tested the joint, stopping immediately when she hissed in pain, murmuring an apology under his breath.

“It’s quite a bad sprain,” he told her, warm hands still on her bare leg. “I’ll have to wrap it so you recover faster. But first we should get you dry. I’ll be right back; don’t put any weight on it,” he finished, giving her leg a gentle squeeze before standing and making his exit.

Elain took the momentary silence to gather herself and her racing heart. There was no reason to make this whole situation into something it wasn’t. Azriel was her friend, and he was taking care of her as a friend. It shouldn’t matter to her that he had just had his hands all over her legs. And it certainly shouldn’t matter that they were sharing a room with only one bed. She’d slept beside friends before. Surely this was no different than sharing a bed with her sisters? Or with Morrigan?

(But it’s Azriel, a quiet voice inside her whispered. It’s Azriel. Of course it’s different.)

(Elain quickly quashed those thoughts… though the doubt lingered.)

The door banged open again some minutes later, Azriel coming through with a bag full of supplies.

“I’ve got some dry things for you to put on,” he told her, seeing as the only dress she brought was the one she was wearing… and the one that was currently leaving a wet patch on the bedspread. He handed her a white slip of a thing – clearly an old sleep shirt, but that smelled clean and was as dry as he claimed – as well as a towel.

Elain shifted forward and was contemplating the best way to stand when Azriel’s arm surrounded her waist, supporting her until she stood balanced on one foot. She gave him a grateful glance, before grabbing one of the bedposts to steady herself.

“Do you– Do you mind?” she asked him, gesturing shyly at the shirt she was holding.

“Of course not.” Azriel immediately backed away and turned around so his back was to her. “Let me know if you need any help?”

“I’ll be fine,” Elain replied, voice suspiciously high-pitched. (Cauldron, she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle his hands on any more of her skin to tonight. She could barely even handle him in the room when she was changing.)

“Stubbornness again, Elain?” Azriel replied, clearly amused.

“I thought you liked that about me,” she said smartly, careful as she shucked her dress off and pulled on the shirt. Thankfully, it was long enough to cover her to her knees, the linen of it cool against her heated skin.

A small laugh. “You’re right. I do.”

Adjusting the shirt so it covered her as much as possible, Elain had to tell herself her bare legs were nothing special. She wouldn’t be this shy with any of the other members of the Inner Circle, so it should hardly matter with her best friend. She gave one last useless tug before sighing. “Alright, I’m done.”

Azriel turned back to her, having shed most of his Illyrian leathers, leaving him in his undershirt and briefs. Elain felt over-heated but kept her eyes firmly on his face, not the dark swirls of tattoos she could see through his open collar or the thick muscle of his own bare legs, studiously focusing on towel-drying her hair instead. Still, she couldn’t help but notice how Azriel’s gaze examined her unashamedly from head-to-toe; her heart beat faster at it, racing wildly.

Azriel suddenly snapped his eyes back to hers, his gaze darker than it had been before. But he said nothing of it, only gesturing back to her ankle. “Let’s get that wrapped.”

Elain kept as still as possible as he helped her settle back on the edge of the bed, the towel covering the earlier wet patch her soaked dress had left there. She practically held her breath when he kneeled again, when he once again touched her bare ankle. He wrapped her ankle with practiced efficiency, but treated her with such gentleness that it made her chest ache something fierce. Finally, when he was done, he stood, putting enough space between them that Elain could exhale.

The silence between them was taught, tension-filled when it usually never was. The room felt suddenly too small and yet too big, the space between her and Azriel a sweet relief and yet begging to be closed.

“Are you hungry?” he suddenly asked, as if searching for something to say.

But Elain shook her head; the nerves in her stomach made it impossible to even think of eating. She kept her eyes on him, felt like something between them would disappear if she looked away.

“Me neither,” Azriel replied, his expression inscrutable, hazel gaze still dark in a way that made her want to shiver. “Perhaps we should rest then.”

She hesitated. “There’s… There’s only one bed. It’s… small.”

That small, amused smile again. “I noticed.”

“I can take the chair?” she offered abruptly, cheeks flushing.

Azriel shook his head firmly, approaching so he stood right next to her… so he could reach out to chuck her gently under the chin; a soft reprimand. “Elain you’re the one who’s injured. I’m hardly letting you take the chair.”

She had to push through the nervous lump in her throat. “Well, you carried me all the way here. It isn’t fair for you to take the chair either.” (Besides, the thing was far too small and rickety to support the sheer size of him.)

He grinned almost wolfishly at that, leaning against the bedpost as he stared down at her. He crossed his impressive arms over his chest, wet hair curling into his eyes in a way that distracted Elain utterly.

“Then it seems we are at an impasse,” Azriel finally said. “What do you suggest?”

She looked behind her, it was small… but. “We could… share? The bed, I mean.”

He similarly examined it. “It’ll be a tight fit,” he offered cautiously.

“I know.”

“Are you sure?” Azriel asked her, uncharacteristically hesitant.

It was that that made her certain. So she nodded, lips pulling up into a smile. “I’m sure. I’d feel too guilty to sleep if you weren’t comfortable too.”

Azriel let out a loud laugh, eyes full of undeniable fondness. “Elain, has anyone ever told you there might be such a thing as too much kindness?”

“Has anyone ever told you that?” she returned.

Azriel’s eyes widened slightly with surprise when the implication sank in, before he ducked his head almost shyly. It made Elain sad that he should be surprised that she thought him kind. It made her so incredibly sad. But there was nothing to be done for it, other than to remind him as much as she was able.

He cleared his throat suddenly, clearly uncomfortable. “Come on, let’s figure this out. We’ll need to be well-rested for tomorrow.”

After some discussion, they soon realized the only way they would both fit was if Azriel climbed in first and lay on his back with Elain practically on top of him. Mother, but her cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Still, she wasn’t about to turn back on her word, so she waited patiently as Azriel sat on the bed first, waited as he shifted back until he could lie down, wings at his side, tucked in as much as they were able with him on his back. Stars, to see him like this… Elain was sure her heart was going to beat right out of her chest. The reality was so much more intimidating than her imagination could have predicted. Still, she steeled herself, forced herself to act like this was all completely normal.

He’s your friend, she told herself. Azriel’s your friend. It’ll be fine. Just don't make this into something it’s not.

Careful of her ankle, she crawled into the bed beside Azriel. He helped her maneuver comfortably, hands steady around her waist until she was finally in place, lying against his side with her head over his heart, her injured food on top of his leg so it wasn’t squashed against the bed. They were tangled together, limbs against limbs, chest-to-chest.

Elain hadn’t been this close to male since Graysen. Elain hadn’t really been this close to any male.

He’s your friend, she reminded herself again. Your friend. Nothing else.

Azriel was tense under her, though his heart remained a steady beat under her ear. She shifted a little bit more, trying to get comfortable until she found that the best way to lie down – lie on him – was by practically hugging his muscled chest. Elain would still have changed from that position, regardless of comfort, were it not for Azriel suddenly relaxing beneath her… for his own arms coming up to surround her completely.

Elain melted into him then, into the comfort of his presence, of the hand that ran gently through her hair.

“Goodnight, Elain,” he told her, turning his head and giving her a sweet kiss to the temple. (He’s your friend. He’s your friend.)

Elain smiled, pleased. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

Yet even with her drowsiness, even with the delicious coziness of her position, she found she couldn’t fall asleep. It eluded her, her entire body suddenly filled with anxious energy – like she was waiting for something to happen.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime but was likely closer to fifteen minutes, Azriel spoke again. “Can’t sleep?”

She shook her head slightly.

Azriel made a humming sound, his fingers still running softly through her loose hair. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

Elain shifted so she could look up at him, could meet his eyes, barely visible in their moonlit room. “You first,” she said.

He seemed to consider, hand moving away from her hair to cup her face, long fingers splayed over the soft skin of her cheek. Elain shivered a little under his touch; this simple touch that really shouldn’t be affecting her the way it was considering the way they were lying together. But still it did. And that said something she’d been trying to ignore.

“I’m thinking…” he started, voice deep, “I’m thinking that I’ve wanted to see you like this for a long, long time.”

Her brow furrowed. “Like what?”

He traced her face again, like he was memorizing the lines of it with his fingers. “Like this. Here. With me.”

Oh. Oh.

“You… you did?” Elain found herself asking, taken by utter surprise. But Azriel is just my friend… isn’t he?

Azriel shook his head with disbelief, that small smile of his back as he stared at her with wonder. “Of course I did, Elain. Of course I do.”

“But why did you say anything?” Why didn't you tell me there was a possibility between us all along?

“I suppose I was scared of losing what we already had. I just… I want you in my life in whatever you’ll allow me, Elain Archeron.”

With that, Elain finally knew what to do with that feeling in her chest. With his words – his beautiful, spellbinding words – she finally understood. Because here was Azriel. Her best friend… and the male she loved.

“Azriel?” Elain asked, heart practically exploding with happiness.

“Yes?”

She smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. “Ask me again. Ask me what I’m thinking.”

He seemed hopeful. So, so hopeful. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I was scared too,” she told him, thumb tracing his strong jawline once. “But I’m not anymore.”

And then she kissed him. She kissed him with everything she had, with every feeling she had for him. It was a beautiful thing, soft yet passionate. Sweet yet full of undeniable fire. Not just a friend, Elain thought suddenly, triumphant. But that thought, and so many of her others, were quickly chased away by Azriel’s tongue, by his ever-moving hands, which seemed starved to touch her. 

She would have continued to kiss him, would have continued to touch him the way she’d wanted to for so long, were it not for sudden pain in her ankle reminding her that probably shouldn’t overdo it.

Stupid ankle. Stupid, stupid ankle.

So she pulled away, apologies ready to fall from her lips, but Azriel quickly waved them away.

“There’s never a need to apologize for that, Elain,” Azriel told her, voice full of serious sincerity. “We will only ever go as far as we both want to.”

She smiled. Cauldron, she was so incredibly lucky to have this male in her life, this beautiful, kind male. She pressed a kiss to his cloth-covered chest, right over his heart. Thank you, that kiss said. Thank you.

Azriel seemed too overcome to reply to that, instead just pressing another kiss to the side of her head. And then another and another, giving his own thanks. 

Cauldron, she was lucky. So mother-blessed lucky.

They still didn’t fall asleep for a long time after that, instead just murmuring softly to each other, talking about everything and nothing. Even their lapses of silence were filled with nothing but comfort, simply basking in each other’s company while they lay tangled together.

It was in one of those lapses that they finally fell into slumber, the both of them feeling warm and peaceful. And loved. That too. Though neither was ready to admit that yet.

But that day would come. And it would come soon. Elain only had to wait… and she was sure that Azriel would be by her side the entire time.

Have you ever wished you were good at writing smut so you could add it in? Yeah… that was me with this one. Oh, well.

Tagging @rosehallshadowsinger @ben-roll-io @queen-archeron @flxwer-petals @alicethelonerabbit @charmed908 @poisonous00 @mrspettyferr

If you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to message me! You can read more of my elriel fics here and on my AO3. 

[happywriter-happywriting]

The Shadow And His Light Chapter Four: Kiss

Azriel slept peacefully all night-- a huge feat for him. Typically he tossed and turned, harassed by memories and nightmares and shadows whispering. When he awoke, Elain was still pressed tight against him. She was pale and her delicate skin warm to the touch.

Real. She was real. So tangible and soft in his arms- not a shadow or a wisp of smoke. She was real.

The word chanted over and over in his sleepy mind. She sighed softly in her sleep and Azriel had to stop himself from squeezing her closer to him. The sunlight coming from the cracked curtains gleamed off her honeycomb hair and Azriel breathed in her sunflower scent.

He thought back to the previous night, he hated himself for giving her that draught of faebane, but he had seen no other option. She was so scared and it terrified him. The small amount of the faerie poison would not stay in her system long- and Azriel knew a choice had to be made. Not by him, no, he would respect her wishes either way. But he saw what a gift the Cauldron had bestowed upon her, and would be damned if he did not tell her. A gift like hers should not be suppressed.

She stirred in his arms, nestling into his chest, Azriel sucked in a breath. She peeked open one eye and then the other, staring up at him in confusion.

“Good morning, love” Azriel tucked a piece of hair behind the point of her ear, “How are you feeling?”

Elain didn’t pull away from him, “Tired,” she traced an exposed portion of his tattooed chest absentmindedly. Her thoughts were far away from her body, though she faintly recognized that she had indeed spent the night in a male’s arms.

“Faebane will dull the senses if taken too often, I’m surprised you were even coherent on our wedding day.” Cauldron, her scent was intoxicating him.

“My father made me take it,” she spoke in a whisper, “I hate how it makes me feel, but it does help with the nightmares.”

Azriel nodded in understanding, his father had forced him to take it when he was young. His father had tried everything to get rid of the shadows.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” He gently untangled himself from her warm body, “If you are up to it, that is.”

Elain missed his warmth under her immediately, but she nodded without a word. Azriel noticed that the far-off look had not left her eyes since last night, he wondered what horror was replaying in her mind. But as her eyes roamed aimlessly, they landed on the opal ring on her left hand, she softened.

Azriel placed a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to his, “I’ll be in the kitchen when you are ready.” Her smile was small, but at least it was there. He slowly got out of the bed and left the room, allowing her to freshen up.

He made his way down the hall, stopping first just outside of her closed door, making sure she would be okay alone. When he heard her soft footsteps on the wood floor and her still steady breathing, he went in search for a pot of tea.

He had neglected to clean up last night, the kitchen was a mess. Elain must have been been baking when she cut her finger and all hell broke loose in her mind.

Azriel quickly cleaned up the mess while the water boiled, he didn’t want her to see any reminder of last night’s horrors.

Elain emerged in a loose flowery dress moments after Azriel had finished pouring the tea; he quickly guided a warm mug into her jittery hands.

“I had started a casserole last night,” she said it with remorse, “ I forgot,”

“Don’t worry about it, love,” He motioned her to follow him through the kitchen door, “Come on,” It led straight out to the garden. Elain had worked on it all afternoon the day before, and already it was looking much neater than when she had arrived. The whole house was neater and more homey, Azriel noted. Flowers in vases, and the pillows fluffed, and curtains drawn wide.

It was a cool day, the weather had shifted and rain clouds hung ominously close in the sky. Azriel extended his wing behind Elain, to keep the crisp wind from hitting her too harshly. They walked for a while in comfortable silence, heading into the deep woods that surrounded the estate. Every once in a while, Elain would point out a fox or colorful bird, her face lighting up for a moment. Azriel was pleased that she seemed a bit more at ease now.; he tucked the idea that the outdoors calmed her into the back of his mind for a later date. Already there was a bit of color in her cheeks and a light in her eyes.

“Do you remember the first vision you had?” his words were laced in gentleness.

Elain tightened her grip on the warm mug in her hands and nodded. They walked on for a minute before Azriel spoke again, “You are very special, Elain. Did you know that?”

Elain looked up at him with wide eyes, “Oh, no- no, not me,” she shook her head and smiled sadly, “Feyre, she is special-- she’s the warrior.” she thought for a moment, “And Nesta is strong and powerful. No, I’m just the middle sister.” she looked down at her feet, “Not special.”

Azriel stopped in his tracks, softly grabbing Elain’s arm and spinning her around to face him. She sucked in a breath and looked up at him in surprise.

“Just because you’re not a warrior doesn’t mean you’re not a fighter. Elain, you are so strong, and you have such a gift.” He let go of her arm, “Your visions are powerful, you are a seer.”

She took a step back, “Seer?”

“Your visions-” Such soft words, “-have some of them come true?”

Elain took another step back, her heart began to pound, “I- I never told anyone.” her empty tea cup fell from her hands, “They’re all real?”

Azriel took a step towards her, taking her hands in his, “Yes, but you already knew that.” His scarred hands held her softly.

Elain did not meet his eyes, “My father never believed me.” For months, Elain had slowly felt herself slipping into madness; first because of the nightmares, and then because of the sickening faebane-- always seeping into her blood. Her days were either horror filled or a thick fog. In all honesty, if something hadn’t shifted in her world, and soon, she was prepared to end it all. She shuddered, her eyes welling with tears.

Azriel hooked a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his kind eyes. “It’s real. You’re real,” he tightened his grip on her hand, “This is real.”

Elain smiled through her tears, “The first vision I had, it…” she took a deep breath, “It was in a world of shadows. I saw myself, and I was smiling,” He was even closer to her now, “It was hard to find things to smile about back then.”

More tears dripped down her cheeks as Azriel cupped his hand behind her neck. It was then that he realized that his shadows had been whispering about a sunshine-girl his whole life. A girl made of earth and flowers, would haunt his dreams when he was locked away as a child. He always dreamed of seeing the sun, feeling it shine on him. And now, here she was. Her hands had become tangled in the front of his shirt, and their faces were mere inches from one another. His other hand had somehow found its way around her small waist, and he held her close.

Slowly.

Oh.

So Slowly.

Their lips brushed.

Oh, this fever.

She was sunshine against his lips.

He was cool night on hers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered with their lips still brushing. He knew it was too soon. They had known each other for less than three days. Or had it been a lifetime?

Elain pulled away after a moment, and Azriel let her go, “The glass…” she gestured to the broken cup in unease.

“Don’t worry about the glass.” In an instant, Azriel whisked it away with the help of his shadows. Azriel wanted to fade into nothing, he should never have touched her. It was a mistake, he convinced himself, she didn’t want him.

After a moment, Elain was able to catch her breath, “I don’t…”

He waited for her to finish... Want you. I don't want you

“I- I mean, I didn’t know it would be like that.” her cheeks burnt a soft pink and she could not meet his eyes. She felt as if dandelions had grown from every pore of her body, and another touch from him, and she would simply sail in a million directions.

“You make me feel as if I could outshine the sun.”

And suddenly he was kissing her again.

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Tags! Thanks for being patient with me and amazing! <3

@rosehallshadowsinger @queenofillea1 @stalkingyourmuse @lord-douglas-the-third

@acotarsmutfluff @aelinxfeyre @Julesherondalex @poisonous00 @feyrethedarklady @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @musicallibrarian93 @flxwer-petals @nightcourtstarlight @aelinninielelain

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[galfridus1]

"this is what i love about you" for king and diane 😍 plzzz !

Hi Ines. Sorry for the delay in replying. Life got in the way. I really hope you like this :)

***

“You ate my dinner!”

King looked incredulously at the impossibly tall human who was leering over him, sharp canines showing with his smile. He looked again at the empty dish, the bits of crust sticking to the top of the ceramic bowl the only indication it had ever contained the fish pie he had been so looking forward to. He felt his face go red - he always did rise to visible anger more easily in this form - as his jowls shook with his rage. Ban meanwhile just grinned at him, downing the last dregs of his ale before placing the stein leisurely on the table, the very picture of nonchalance.

“I heard you let a cat beat you over one of these~” Ban fluted as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes falling closed. “I’m safe from you I reckon.” At this King spluttered, feeling his face turn even more red, as if that were possible.

“You look as if steam’s coming out of your ears,” Ban murmured, lazily opening one eye.

“Spirit Spear Chastiefol…”

“That’s enough of that!” The bartender of Yawn Of The Black Cat came into view, standing over the pair, his hands on his hips and his face like thunder. “I told you Sins, no fighting in here! It took me three weeks to clean up last time!” King scrunched up his face, forcing himself to take deep breaths as Ban cackled like a harpie next to him. Unable to stand anymore, King got up from the table, shooting the immortal a furious look before practically running out of the pub. Why is it he seemed to spend three-quarters of his time in this form being humiliated by his supposed comrades?

Stomping through the streets of Liones, King felt his anger grow: it was not fair! Why did Meliodas and the others let Ban behave this way? It wasn’t even as if he had real power, not in the proper sense. That stealing thing of his really didn’t count. He had complained to The Captain, several times, in no uncertain terms, always to find his legitimate concerns brushed off. The Captain and Ban got on well of course, and perhaps such refusal to see reason was to be expected, but Merlin had been the same. She had listened, or at least pretended to, while he spoke at length of Ban’s shortcomings, nodding her head sagely as he talked. After half an hour or so, she had held up her hand, silencing him as her amber eyes flashed. “Just put up with it,” she had advised as King spluttered indignantly.

Lost in his thoughts, King was just on the point of realising he had no idea where he was going when a welcome shadow covered him, blocking out the unbearable heat of the sun. He spun round, his face burning as if on fire as he took in the giant’s cute amethyst eyes and her signature pigtails. He had thought he would never see her again, and now here she was, living and working alongside him. It was like a dream come true, or it would have been if he didn’t have to hide his true self. It was hot work walking around in this body suit of flab.

“King, are you okay?” Diane asked, her head tilted to one side in that adorable way and instantly King felt his remaining anger melt.

“D-Diane… just… I’m fine,” he muttered, finding himself unable to form intelligible words as he looked up at her. Why couldn’t he go back to the way he had been with her before? When he was the one who knew things? Somehow after he had left her, Diane had not just grown up, she had surpassed him. The thought did his ego no good, and he felt himself trying to shrink as Diane leaned towards him.

“I can tell when you’re lying, silly,” Diane sang lightly as she leaned down towards him. “Come on, let’s got for a walk. It’s a lovely day!”

She was right, it was. The sun shone bright in the clear blue sky, not a single cloud to be seen and there was barely a breeze, the slight wind fluttering pleasantly against his cheeks. Summoning Chastiefol, King floated up towards Diane and together they made their way out of the city gates, the Holy Knights on duty waving to them as they passed. The verdant grass looked soft and inviting and King felt the urge to take a nap, but with Diane that was never an option. She always had more energy than was reasonable.

They moved at pace, heading towards the shade of the nearby forest and all at once King felt his heart ache. The cool, almost wet feel of the air on his skin was enough to bring memories flooding back; the blushing pink leaves of the sacred tree, the fluttering fairies laughing as they played and the glowing fountain of youth, Elaine standing beside it. How long had it been since he had seen her now? Too long…

“You’re very quiet, you sure there’s not something wrong?” The sweet sound of her voice brought him back to the present. The forest was not the same of course; the trees were still and sparse, the light streaming through in great rivers rather than tiny trickles, and the smell was wrong. This part of the world, the woodlands were filled with pine trees rather than majestic oaks, and the fresh smell of resin tickled his nostrils. It was not unpleasant, but a far cry from home.

“Ooohhh,” Diane squealed and she thudded towards a small clearing. King followed more slowly, the splash of a small brook and chirping of birds beckoning him forward. As he approached, King took in the sight; the clearing was full of flowers, the bouquets of vibrant colour dazzling his eyes. The soil must be particularly fertile here.

“These are my favourites!” Diane gushed, pointing at a bunch of white gerberas growing by the side of the stream. “I don’t know why but they remind me of something… It’s so silly, every time I try and focus on it, the memory slips further away. Do you think it means anything?”

King stood stock still, slowing sinking to the ground so Diane could not see his expression. Of course it did; those were the very same flowers that he had bewitched so as to erase Diane’s memories, knowing that he had to leave her forever to avenge his friend.

“They seem to mean something important, something to do with why I went back to my clan.” Diane’s voice was soft and sad, enough to break King’s heart. They had been so happy, and he had abandoned her, robbing her of all recollection of their time together in the process. But it was all for her own good of course. He had planted the suggestion that she return to the giants, knowing that she would follow the call of home in her confused state.

“I don’t know why I did that…” Diane fell silent, sitting down beside the clump of flowers, gently stroking the soft petals, “I wish I hadn’t.”

“W-why? What happened?” The question was out before King could stop himself. He had thought she would be safe, cared for, cherished even. He had congratulated himself for his quick thinking at the time. But as he looked at Diane’s sorrowful face he knew, and it felt like a heavy blow to the chest. “They’re your clan. Surely…”

“All they know is how to fight!” Diane’s hand which had gently been stroking the flower petals clenched into a fist and King looked up to see a glowering expression on her innocent face. It was so incongruous, so unlike her, that the breath caught in his lungs. “They don’t care about anyone, not even their own children. All they care about is honour and victory and violence.”

King stood stock still, his feet planted on the ground as he tried to process what Diane was saying. She had been unhappy, and it was his fault. For seven hundred years they had lived together in that cave, taking care of each other, and he had promised, promised her faithfully that he would not let her down. And yet he had, just like everyone else in his life. This was yet another example of how he had failed those around him.

“I’m sorry!” he blurted out, his eyes downcast.

“It’s not your fault silly!” Diane replied in her customary cheerful voice. “The giants have always been like that. That’s why my parents smuggled me out - they didn’t want me to fight like some sort of machine. They wanted me to think for myself, defend others and stand up for what was right. And… somehow, I don’t know how… I learned to do that. Someone must have taught me I guess but I don’t know who. My memories are all hazy…” As Diane broke off, her eyes strayed back to the flowers, her brow creasing in thought and King suddenly realised the danger he was in.

“We should get back,” he murmured, trying to sound regretful. “The Captain said…”

“Oh, The Captain wants us?” Diane enthused, her eyes shining with happiness. She sprang to her feet, the ground trembling slightly with the force of her movement. She stretched her hand down, and King stepped on, allowed the giantess to convey him to her shoulder. He jolted slightly as she set off at what was practically a gallop, heading back towards Liones.

“Do you think The Captain will ever like me?” Diane asked thoughtfully, panting slightly with the exertion as she ran. “I adore him so…” King knew this of course - Diane had made no secret of her infatuation - but it still hurt like hell. He loved her, more than anything in the world and he knew, deep down, she cared for him too. But how could he tell her, especially now? Surely she would hate him if she found out he was the one who had sent her back to her clan.

“I- I’m sure he will. I’m sure he does now,” King muttered, forcing the words out of his mouth. “How could he not?” There was a pause, and King held his breath. Perhaps… maybe… could she?

“This is what I love about you!” Diane sang into the silence. “You always give me hope. Of course he will, I just have to keep trying!”

As they continued back to Liones, King felt the ache in his chest blossom as he clung to the cloth at Diane’s shoulder. The ache that had been there for years, and would always remain.

[likeateatray-inthesky]

Eyes Wide Open || Selfie

Children’s laughter rang through the air, Malinda’s voice among them as she sat on the swings, watching her brothers try to make each other sick on the merry go round. Her mother sat off to the side on a bench in the park, a small ways from the playground, and Malinda hopped down from her swing and ran over to her, climbing into her mom’s lap. Her mother looked down at her with a warm smile and pulled her into a snuggly hug, at which Malinda let out another peal of laughter. “Momma, can we get some ice cream today?” she asked, bouncing excitedly in her mother’s lap. Her mess of long dark waves fell into her face, and Aleena pushed her hair back with a smile. “How about we get some after we have dinner. You still wanted to go to that taco truck, didn’t you?” Malinda’s eyes widened at the mention of the taco truck, getting excited about it all over again. “Yeah! Everyone loves tacos, even sissy!” Elaine was known to be rather picky about what she put in her body, but tacos never failed to get her excited too. “Then we’ll do tacos and ice cream for dinner tonight, my little dormouse,” Aleena assured her daughter. “Just don’t tell your father or he’ll be so sad he missed out on it having to work late tonight,” she added in a conspiratorial tone. Malinda giggled and nodded once again before bounding back over to the playground to where her brothers had started tackling each other while Elaine sat off to the side, yelling at them to stop fighting...

The memory faded away, and once again Malinda was left in the darkness. This time it didn’t feel like a dream, it felt real, it felt tangible, it felt warm. She felt warm for the first time since she’d entered the forest the week and a half before. Outwardly, in St. Mungo’s, there was a sign that Malinda wasn’t as catatonic as she once had been, as tears started to fall down her cheeks. “Call in the healer, Joseph. Now.” Aleena moved from her seat by the window and came to perch on the edge of the bed, taking one of Malinda’s hands in hers. “Mally, honey? Can you hear me?”

“Maliumpkin!” Joseph boomed as he entered the home, the one they’d just moved into in a suburb of London. Boxes were still everywhere around the house, and each of the Upton children had only just claimed their bedrooms the week before, Malinda completely fine with getting the smallest one because in her opinion, it had the best view. She bounded down the hall and then the stairs to the front door to greet her father with as big of a hug as her little eleven year old body could manage. “Welcome home, Daddy!” she cried happily, the biggest smile on her face. “Guess what came in the mail today, honey,” her father said in an almost taunting tone, waving an envelope in the air. “Is it my letter?!” she all but shrieked and jumped up to try and reach the mail in her father’s hand. “Go get your mother first, then we can read it over together,” he instructed, and with an excited squeal, Malinda went bolting into the kitchen where her mother was cooking dinner and tugged on her apron. “Mom, mom, mom! Dad’s home! And my letter came! The one from Hogwarts!” Aleena knew exactly what letter it was that was coming, it was the reason they’d moved to London in the first place, and while she’d been a little worried about moving so far from their home, she was excited for her daughter to get seven years of schooling at what was argued to be the best wizarding school in the world. Being a muggle, Aleena didn’t really understand what the difference was, but she did like being closer to the school should anything happen. Having to send her older three children to Salem before they’d moved had been hard each year since it was so far from Amherst.

Malinda perched in a chair at the dining table, her feet on the seat and bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her knees bumped the edge of the table constantly as she tried to keep herself balanced, too excited to sit properly. Joseph placed the letter before her carefully and sat in the chair across from her, his wife taking the seat beside him. “Okay, you can open it now,” he said, and Malinda ever so carefully opened the seal and pulled the letter out, unfolding it even more carefully than the envelope, reading it to herself first then reading it aloud. With it was a list of the things she would need for school, and Malinda got excited all over again. “I get to get an owl!” She paused and looked at her parents with wide eyes. “I get an owl right?” Her father laughed lightly and looked over at his wife who looked rather perplexed. She’d never understood why witches and wizards had owls when the post worked just as well, but what was one more owl? Thankfully, Elaine had opted for the cat option, so there would only be three owls in the house instead of the four it could have been. “Yes, you get to get an owl. Hold on though, we can’t afford to get all new things, so you’ll have to use some of your siblings’ old books and things.” Her father’s warning fell on deaf ears, though, as Malinda was already jumping down from the chair and running back up the stairs to tell her Elaine all about her letter and what kind of owl she thought she should get.

“Mr. and Mrs. Upton, please calm down. I can see what you’re talking about, but there is nothing that I can do yet. Her vitals are still strong, and she is still doing well. Her brain activity is growing, her body just needs a little more time to catch up. Let me know when she starts moving, okay?” With that, the chief healer on Malinda’s case left the room with a small nod, leaving her parents in their distressed state. Joseph recovered first and rolled the chair over from the window beside Malinda’s bed, gently pushing his wife into the seat. Aleena’s gaze never once left her daughter, waiting for one sign or another that she was waking up. Her hand still squeezed Mal’s, but there was no squeezing back, her skin still as cold as it had been when they moved her to St. Mungo’s. The only sign of movement was the visible shiver that ran through her body, though the healers had already declared that a symptom of the dementor attack.

Malinda was fifteen and she had just seen her big sister graduate from Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her spell was hardly impressive, and she swayed a bit on stage before being shuffled off and back into her seat while she waited for the rest of her class to finish their final examination. To her right, Malinda could hear hushed whispers of her parents, but she wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying. She was still staring in awe at her big sister. That was going to be her in two years. She was going to be sitting where Elaine sat, doing what Elaine did, and becoming an adult. She was scared and excited all at the same time. Elaine turned to look back at her family, and Malinda waved enthusiastically. She got nothing in return except a faint smile. It was like Elaine wasn’t even looking at her, like she was looking through her. She’d seen the same glassy look in her sister’s eyes a lot more often in the last six months than the last two years combined, but Malinda didn’t think there was anything wrong. There couldn’t be. Elaine was her big sister, she was almighty and strong and impressive and amazing and everything that Malinda wanted to be one day.

Malinda shivered in her seat, and she looked around again, wondering if anyone else had felt the cold that was starting to sink into her bones. This wasn’t right, there was something wrong. A little voice in the back of her head nagged at her to get the memory right, that there was something off about it, but Malinda genuinely couldn’t figure it out. Everything seemed normal, but the day wasn’t as happy as it should have been, it wasn’t as happy as Malinda remembered it to be. Maybe this was a dream after all. She stood from her seat and excused herself to go to the bathroom, and no one even looked in her direction. This was wrong…

In her room, Malinda’s brow furrowed just in the slightest, and if her mother hadn’t been looking at her so carefully, it probably would have gone unnoticed. Another few tears slipped free, and Aleena leaned up to wipe them from her face. “Joseph, should we get a nurse at least? I think she’s having some sort of fit in there,” she said worriedly, but her husband shook his head. “Give her time, Ally,” he reassured her, and stood behind her, gently massaging her shoulders, hoping that would make Aleena relax a little. For as worried as he was about his youngest daughter and now youngest child, Aleena was easily ten times as worried. It had been an hour from the first tears to the change in her facial expression, at this rate, logically, she wouldn’t be waking up for a while, and Joseph didn’t want to add more stress to the healers trying to wake her up or Malinda’s fragile state of mind and soul.

Time flashed again, and Malinda was standing in Hogsmeade. It was hotter than hell, and here she was, standing in a flannel and black jeans. What had she been thinking? Right. It was laundry day, and this was all she’d had available. “I know it’s summer and all, but we’re in the British Isles, isn’t it always supposed to rain? Where’s the cold?” she grumbled, rolling up her sleeves as she did so. “Seriously, could do with a little cold right now,” she heard a boy mutter, presumably meant to be under his breath, and she chuckled a bit. “I don’t think you sounded bitter enough there, buddy.” She shook her arms a bit to settle the sleeves and checked the time before looking back at him. “You wanna go get some ice cream or something? Cold to combat the unnecessary heat?” Food had been her number one priority after waking up from her nap and someone just as displeased with the weather as her had to be good enough company. “U-uhm...uhm sure,” came his answer finally. When he agreed, she smiled wider and nodded her head once in approval. “Great! I’ve been wanting to try out this cute little parlor for a while,” she said as she started down the street, waving for him to follow her. “I’m Malinda, by the way. What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? My mom always told me you can a lot about a person by what kind of ice cream they like.”

The boy tugged at his sleeves a lot, but Malinda didn’t make a comment on it. “Oh, uhm, salted caramel,” he got out. “Salted caramel? Really? I definitely would have pegged you as a cookie dough or moose tracks guy. But salted caramel is definitely a good choice. Personally, I’m a big fan of birthday cake, but only when it’s not my unbirthday. On my birthday, anything with fudge or brownies is my favorite,” she responded cheerily. “Oh, uhm, I’m PJ...by the way…” It almost sounded like he wasn’t sure about his own name, and her head tilted a bit in interest. “PJ. Is that short for something or did your parents jump on the bandwagon a while ago with the two letter names that don’t actually stand for anything? Not that that’s a bad thing, of course, I’m just curious.” That was when she saw the sign for the ice cream parlor, and she got a bit of a skip to her step. “I’m really glad you agreed to come with me. Ice cream is so much better with company.” Malinda was getting a bit of a sense that she was kind of bombarding the boy with her presence, but he hadn’t run yet, so that had to be a good sign, right? “PJ is, uhm… They’re my initials. My, uhm...my full name is Pete Jeterson, but… everyone calls me PJ,” he explained, and she nodded her head. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, PJ.”

It was weird, this memory was more distant than the other once, more like a dream like the last one had been. Instead of Malinda seeing through her own eyes, she was watching it unfold before her as though she was just a spectator. It made her feel like she was watching someone else’s memories. Another shiver ran through her as she realised she was intruding on her own memories. She wanted to be a part of the scene that unfolded before her, she needed to be a part of the scene that unfolded before her. That was her memory, and it felt like it’d been ripped from her. 

Another visible shiver ran through her body. It was happening more often now, and even Joseph had agreed with his wife and said that they should call in a nurse to keep an eye on her if she made any progress. It wasn’t much longer before Malinda’s hand twitched in her mother’s. “I’m going to go get the healer, Mrs. Upton,” she assured Aleena before she had a chance to say anything and darted out. “It looks like she might be waking up, honey,” Joseph said reassuringly, taking a seat in his seat again. He was visibly relaxing, glad that something finally seemed to be going right after nearly two weeks of no information. Aleena, however, was more alert than ever, making mental notes of any changes that happened in her daughter.

Malinda needed to wake up, she was sure of it. This was all a dream, it wasn’t memories anymore. They weren’t hers, there was something wrong. She knew her sister’s graduation had been nothing but happiness, she remembered her father being there in the park with them and for tacos and ice cream later that night. She remembered zero hesitation in her parents’ eyes when she asked about owl. They were the smallest details, but she knew they were wrong. Deep down, she knew. If she hadn’t felt so disconnected, she wouldn’t have thought to delve deeper, but there was something wrong with the latest memory. It was right, there weren’t any inconsistencies, but it hadn’t been hers. She had just watched it happen. She needed to wake up, she didn’t want to be here anymore.

She closed her eyes tight and waited a few seconds, hoping that when she opened them again, she’d be in the real world again and she wouldn’t be stuck in her own head anymore. But instead of being awake, she was in the dress she’d worn to the Wizard Olympics Ball, the one that was far too stuffy, but honestly, it did look good. She made her way toward the hall where it was being held and met PJ just before heading it. “You, uhm, you look good,” he commented with the smallest hint of a smile, to which Malinda nodded her thanks and responded in kind. As they headed inside, he felt like too many eyes were on her all at once, and she wanted to shy away, hide against the wall and drink everything that was in the flask hidden in her purse. She’d come here for PJ, and she’d be damned if she left him alone. Besides, he didn’t seem to be all that opposed to spending time with her. Standing off to the side honestly felt more awkward than being in the middle of everything, so they made their way out to the dancefloor. It was clear that PJ was in his head still, but Malinda was determined to try and get him out and into the real world with the rest of them. “So how are you faring with all of this?” she asked, hoping that talking would help bring him to the present. “Honestly? Not great, but I’m making it work,” he assured her as they continued to move to the music. It was hardly the first time they’d spent time together, but for some reason, it felt different this time. She felt more at ease and relaxed around him, and more like everything was starting to fall into place. It was like she’d all but forgotten that he could die still in this stupid tournament. For a brief, beautiful moment, it was just the two of them, talking, smiling, dancing. And then he took her hand. He took her hand. And Malinda felt her heart swell in her chest. The PJ she had met only a month or so before had grown to trust her and be her closest friend. And deep down, a part of her acknowledged more.

“It feels good to do what you want, doesn’t it?” she asked as they escaped the stuffiness of the ball and headed outside. “What do you want to do now?” Malinda looked at him expectantly and a bit hopeful, looking forward to spending the rest of the evening with him. Except he wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t holding her hand anymore, he’d pulled away completely. And when he did look at her, she wilted. There, plain as day on his face, was the expression she’d seen before from a few people when she’d first started going to school. That she was “less than” because of her family’s middle class status or the impurity of her blood or the reputation that her siblings had left behind them. “We can’t be friends, Malinda. Do you have any idea how much of a mistake it was for me to be seen dancing with you tonight? It was because I pity you, of course. It’s not your fault you were born a halfblood.” It was PJ’s voice, but it wasn’t his words, Malinda was sure of it. But the words had sliced her so deeply, she couldn’t even look at him anymore. She looked to her feet and nodded, as though what he said made total and complete sense. “I just...never thought you’d be the type of person to say these things. Peej, we’re friends,” she pleaded before she could think. “I can’t say what you want me to. Goodbye, Malinda,” he responded without any emotion in his voice, turning on his heel and walking back into the hall, leaving her alone in a dress she hadn’t wanted to wear and shoes that were killing her feet.

Malinda could feel the hot tears running down her cheeks, but she ignored them, looking after PJ for a moment before turning and running in the opposite direction, losing her heels a few steps in. She abandoned them, not caring if she lost them forever, needing to just run. Run fast and run hard and pretend this had never happened. The voice in the back of her head nagged at her again, reminding her it was just a dream, it wasn’t real, but it had felt so real. His words rang in her ears and broke her heart. But if it wasn’t real, why couldn’t she wake up?

Again, she closed her eyes, willing herself to wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up!

Malinda bolted upright in her bed, her breathing uneven and coming more in heaves than breaths, not even aware of the fact that tears were still falling down her cheeks. It took her a few moments to realise that she wasn’t in Hogsmeade anymore or on Hogwarts grounds or at her family home. Where was she? It looked like a hospital room...smelled like a hospital room. She turned her head to look around her and was shocked at the sight of her parents standing at the edge of the bed. “Mally, honey, we were so worried about you!” her mother cried before throwing her arms around her daughter and holding on tightly. Malinda was still shocked, but held onto her mother just as tightly. “Could someone maybe tell me what happened?” she managed to get out weakly.

[1cowand2iguanapersecond-blog]

FIRST ACOTAR FAN FICTION I'VE TRIED TO WRITE:

 I don’t know how this will go, so let’s see shall we… please be kind!

Elain sat at her mirror trying to breathe. Lucien was waiting downstairs. Waiting for her to arrive. Today was the big day. The day that she had asked for, that Lucien had laughed at at first before realising that she was serious.

She looked at herself in the mirror again. Her hair was long and flowing, falling in waves and curls. The sun shone through the open bedroom window, highlighting her pale skin, almost making it glow. The sun also highlighted the various shades of brown in her hair, something Lucien said he loved to sit and stare at whenever they went for picnics in the court’s gardens. It made Elain blush whenever Lucien sat there adoringly watching her.

She finally stood up, taking a step back from the mirror, looking herself up and down. She wasn’t wearing shoes, that was her way of doing things. Elain was one with nature, she embodied the Spring Court in both inner and outer appearance.

When she had told Feyre and Nesta that she was moving to the Spring Court almost a year ago, they weren’t surprised at all. They both knew she was sad to be leaving her sisters and the close-knit family of the Night Court. But they also knew and accepted that her mating bond was calling to her, despite Lucian and Elain having not accepted it yet. They also both agreed that there was no Court Elain was better suited to than the Spring court.

Her eyes flowed upwards, passing over her now strong and muscley legs from months of training. Her eyes reached her knees, where her dress started. It was a light dress, made of chiffon. She loved the way it flowed and moved in the slight breeze. The dress was a deep purple at the bottom, slowly fading into a pastel purple. The material tightened to show her waist. The colour faded from the pastel purple to a pastel pink as it carried over her breasts. The dress was strapless, Elain chose it specifically to show of her shoulders and collarbones, something Lucian loved. He would plant soft kisses across her collarbones whenever she would allow it, which was often.

Elain was wearing a necklace too, a silver chain that held a lovely white rose, the stem extending down between her collarbones. It was a gift Lucian had given her upon her arrival in the Spring Court.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, through the bond she could feel her mate’s anxiety. Ever so slight, his worry toward her and how she was coping with her nerves of today. She felt the familiar tug on her heart as she delved into the bond, letting it surround her for a moment. They hadn’t solidified the bond yet, although it pained Lucian, he knew she needed time. Elain needed time to adjust to her body and senses and of course, her magic. Something she thanked the Cauldron for everyday. He was patient, oh so patient, and Elain made sure that he knew she appreciated it. They were both surprised at how strong the bond was considering Elain hadn’t accepted it yet. They put it down to all the time they spent together and didn’t talk about it much.

She could hear soft music flowing through her bedroom window, no doubt an attempt to calm and entertain the guests in the courtyard below. She felt Lucian’s anxiety spike as he heard it to. It was a clear indication that Elain was taking a long time to ready herself. She could also feel his understanding and she knew he wouldn’t come to fetch her, time was something they had an eternity of, and he hated rushing her.

She sent a thrum of calm and okay down the bond, letting Lucian know she was indeed okay, just nervous. Elain felt a smile pass her lips as she felt him relax ever so slightly. She glanced at herself once more, feeling nude without her usual adornment of flowers upon her head, but today was not the day for a flower crown.

Elain turned from the mirror and made to exit the room, opening and shutting the door with a quiet that came naturally now days. She descended the stairs, her bare feet padding softly against the cold marble floor.

She could feel Lucian before she saw him, waiting patiently in the sitting room for her. She knew he sensed her as well. So she had no time to pause before showing herself to him. She took a breathe and stepped through the doorway to the sitting room.

Lucian stood quickly as she entered. She heard his breath catch as he looked her up and down. Elain felt a blush spread over her face as she watched Lucian’s eyes pass over her body. She watched his eyes pause on her bare shoulders, smiling ever so softly as he eyed the necklace. Finally, his eyes reached her face. She saw warmth and love grow in his eyes as he scanned her face.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“Is… Is this okay?” Elain was surprised at how nervous she was in front of her mate. He’d seen her at her most vulnerable, there was no need to feel this way. She breathed deeply again, trying to calm herself. She realised she was probably nervous at the up and coming event, not her mate’s scrutiny.

Lucian took quick steps to close the gap between them. “Okay?” he shook his head. “You’re beautiful, stunning, the personification of Spring.” He reached up and his thumb softly stroked her cheek. Elain felt a barrage of love and affection come down the bond. She felt exactly the same, she mirrored the feelings back down the bond.

Their eyes met and they both smiled, a smile full of love. Elain gingerly got up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, softly. He returned the kiss, just as gentle. Her hands rested on his chest where she could feel his heartbeat. His hand remained on her cheek and his other hand found its way to her waist, steadying her. Elain lost herself in the moment, the feeling of his heartbeat, his lips, the heat radiating off his skin and his scent, something she could never get enough of.

Lucian pulled away after a few moments and Elain lowered herself back down to her feet. “Are you ready?” Lucien stepped back, withdrawing his touch.

Her waist was still warm where his hand had been. Elain nodded, but she knew the Lucien felt her nerves and anxieties through the bond. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“You can take long as you need to, dove.” Her heart swelled at the use of the pet name she had grown to love.

“I don’t want to keep everyone waiting,” she glanced out the sitting room window, not seeing anything but the empty from porch. “They’ve been waiting so long they started the music.”

“They’re only the members and citizens of this court. You have no obligation to be on time. They will wait for YOU and ME.” “Lucian. 

“They’ve travelled and stopped their lives to come to our manor for this occasion. I owe them my time and effort. Just because you are their High Lord, doesn’t mean you can disregard their lives before you feel more important.” She didn’t know where this little flare of anger towards Lucien came from, but she knew he felt it. She could see it in his eyes. 

She closed her eyes and took a breath. She felt the anger fade as quick as it came. She opened her eyes and reached for his hand. “I’m sorry. I think it’s my nerves.“ She smiled apologetically.

“I understand,” he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes watching her face closely, a spike of concern spiking from him. “Let us make our appearance then, shall we?” he cocked his eyebrows at her as he gently tugged toward the door. Elan didn’t respond, but followed silently. 

When they entered the foyer and were standing before the main door, Lucian paused. “We can do this two ways. I can go out by myself first and you can follow once I’m at the front, or we can go out together.” Lucian watched Elain’s face as she considered the options. 

“You wrote the invitations, I asked you to keep the intention of this occasion a secret. Did you?” Elain realised she didn’t get to read the invitations before they got sent out to the guests. 

“Yes. I kept my promise. No one out there, not even the servants, know why they are here. After our marriage they probably think it’s a baby announcement.” He chuckled at Elain’s shocked face, “Relax, dove. They’ll know soon enough. So, alone or together?”

“Together. I’m not sure I can handle the entire Spring Court staring at me.”

Lucian only nodded as he pulled open the heavy wood door. They exited the manor, the volume of the music increasing ever so slightly. They walked across the large marble porch. As they walked down the steps that led to the large open courtyard, she gasped. Elain hadn’t been allowed to view the courtyard or help decorate for the occasion, much to her annoyance. Before her, to either side of the stairs they descended, stood hundreds of people. They were all staring at the couple. Elain swallowed her discomfort, straightened her shoulders and let her gaze roam over the crowd. They stood to either side of a white pathway. A sheet that was lightly decorated with petals for them to walk down. She looked above the heads of guests and was delighted to see a white wooden structure had been erected and was decorated with lanterns, vines and flowers - white roses, of course. 

She reached up and softy touched her necklace, before glancing at Lucian and giving him a soft smile. Their hands remained linked and she gave his a squeeze to let him know she was ready to proceed. They walked the few steps to the start of the sheet. 

They paused and Lucien glanced around. Before them, the entire court went to their knees, the sign of respect to a High Lord. They began their descent down the path to the front. There were so many people in attendance that the path was quite long. Elain couldn’t see the people at the front of the crowd. Everyone reminded bowed for their entire walk.

They walked at a moderate pace, not wanting people to be uncomfortable for too long. Lucian kept sending reassuring feelings down the bond, calming Elain’s nerves at the upcoming event. 

Elain kept her eyes forward, trying to pretend she wasn’t about to be in front of hundreds of people, most of which she had never seen before. All Fae, judging her for being “made”. Struggling to accept her for what she was. A mere human given a Fae’s life, she heard from the staff the rumours that circulated through the Spring Court. Elain was suddenly increasing nervous at what was about to happen, how people would react.  Lucian squeezed her hand tight and sent a clear message down the bond, It will be okay, they do not condemn you like you think they do. A rare few have something against you, but most of our citizens adore you and your ways with nature, do not fret, dove. It will be okay.

Elain felt calm wash over her, knowing that her mate was correct, it wasn’t as bad as her emotions was making it to be. She made an effort to breath and concentrate on her feet, one in front of the other. 

It didn’t take long before they reached the platform at the front of the crowd. They climbed the few steps to the wide platform with two thrones, side by side.

They turned and faced the crowd, each standing in front of a throne, still loosely holding hands. 

Lucian gazed out across the crowd, admiring his court in all its glory. “You may rise, thank you.” 

He waited for the music to stop and everyone’s eyes to be on the couple before he considered addressing them. 

It took only moments for Elain’s eyes to scan the crowd and land on the front row. A row of familiar faces. She couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes or the smile the graced her lips. Feyre raised one hand and gave her a little wave, and Nesta gave her a nod accompanied by a smile. Standing next to her sister’s were their mates, Rhysand,and and Cassian. Azriel, Mor and Amren were also standing with the group, her little Night Court family. They all smiled proudly at her and nodded their greetings. She noticed that they had their wings tucked away. Whether this was to spare intimidating the Spring Court citizens or to take up less space, she didn’t know. She loved the appearance of the wings and the freedom they offered, sometimes she wished she could fly as well. It came to her often in her dreams.

Elain squeezed Lucian’s hand tight, knowing that it was his doing that bought her family here. Love and adoration coursed through the bond again, both ways. 

“I’m sure you are all curious as to what bought you here today.” Lucian said calmly, looking around at the crowd. Meeting people’s eyes as he passed over them.

“An invitation was sent to each and everyone in the Spring Court, with a few acceptations, of course.” He smiled and nodded at Elain’s family in the front row, they all responded in kind. 

Since Tamlin’s passing and Lucian’s rise to power, things had been calmer between the two courts and the rulers. Rhysand went as far as to mentor Lucian in being a High Lord and they all visited each other went Court duties allowed.

He continued on, a pleasant smile gracing his face. “Today is a very special day for everyone in the Spring Court. We are not making history here, as that had been done, but we are following in the wise steps.” 

Elain tried to follow Lucian’s lead, letting her eyes roam over the crowd with a smile plastered across her face to hide the nervousness.

He let the crowd murmur softly to one another for a brief moment before continuing. “I have called you here for a ceremony, the first of it’s kind in the Spring Court, and hopefully not the last.” He nodded to Feyre who silently moved from her place by Rhysand to the stairs at the front of the stage. 

“We are making a change in this Court. Feyre, if you will.” He nodded and smiled once more at Feyre. He squeezed Elain’s hand before letting go and taking two calculated steps to the side.

Feyre walked up the few steps and stood in front of her sister, waiting for the cue from Lucian.

“Today, I name Elain Archeron as the High Lady of the Spring Court!” Without a moments delay Feyre reached up and carefully placed a crown upon Elain’s head. Elain realised that she had been hiding it behind her back this entire time. Feyre gave her sister’s hand a squeeze before she knelt before her. Elain watched in awe as from the front to the back of the crowd, everyone knelt before their first High Lady, acceptance washing over her body. Elain took the brief few moments that she had to reach into the bond and see the crown from Lucian’s eyes, not having a moment to see it herself before it was upon her head. It was stunning. It shined gold and silver. The base that touched her head was solid gold and rose up and was covered with silver vines and roses. A crown made for her, for the High Lady of the Spring Court. 

When you’re ready, dove. Lucian gently prompted her, reminding her that it was her duty to tell them to rise again.  Elain looked out over the crowd, clearing her throat softly. “You may rise,” she watched the crowd rise to her feet before focusing on Feyre in front of her. “Thank you, sister.” Feyre nodded and gave her hand another squeeze before leaving the stage and returning to her spot beside her High Lord. 

Lucian stepped up beside her again. “Your High Lady is to be shown the same respect you show your High Lord. We are equals and nothing less.” He scanned the crowd, his smile missing as he made sure they understood what that meant. A second later, he clapped his hands and smiled widely, “Now, let us celebrate!” 

Next to the platform were two long tables that Elain had failed to notice, within seconds they were filled with a buffet of delicious food and drinks. Bonfires started burning in various positions around the crowd as the day proceeded in to late afternoon. Lucian turned to Elain, “Please, take your throne, my High Lady.” She blushed but turned and sat in the throne behind her, Lucian following suit. She admired how someone as intimidating as Lucian could look so graceful. 

Slowly the music started up again, the band almost hidden from view amongst the crowd. The music flowed and rolled across the guests as they started mingling and migrating around toward the food and drinks. 

Many people offered smiles at the couple, who sat their watching their court. They both had the same feelings coursing through the bond, enjoyment at watching their court smile and laugh, enjoying themselves after so many decades of hardship and war.

Elain looked over and reached her hand out toward Lucian, needing to touch her mate. He reciprocated the feelings and gently linked their fingers together, emotions coursing freely through the bond.

She looked deeply into Lucian’s eyes and said softly, “I love you, Lucian.” 

“I love you too, dove.” A smile as big as hers gracing his face at those words.

[maastrash]

Second Chances Chapter 5

Summary: For Azriel, Elain Archeron is the one that got away. He had been deeply in love with her since high school–even though she had no clue who he was. Now, 10 years later, Elain is engaged and happy. Knowing he missed his chance, Azriel tries to move on from the girl who captured his heart for so long. But, when Elain’s wedding is suddenly canceled, fate seems to finally be on his side. The world has given him a second chance, and this time he won’t mess it up.

A/N: Ah I am so sorry this took about 1000 years oml I was kinda in a writing slump... But yesterday I got into the University of Washington AH and I feel motivated to write again!! I have a few pieces in the works but hope you enjoy this!

Thank you to @fireheart-of-your-dreams for being my literal comma correcting queen, she is amazing!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Masterlist // AO3 :)      

Elain smiled as a cool breeze blew through her hair. She shut her eyes, letting the warmth of the Hawaiian sun kiss her face. It was magical. She always felt wild and free in the middle of the ocean, away from all the city life. This time it was different, though. Better. This time, she had Azriel.

She leaned into him as they both watched the water sparkle, the island getting closer as the boat began its journey back to the shore. The past two days on the boat had been absolutely perfect. The way he would reach for her hand or put his arm around her shoulders made her feel loved, cherished. It still shocked her how easy it was to joke with him, laugh with him, and just be with him. Although it was fake dating, Elain could no longer deny that she had feelings for him. Yes, she was still hurting and yes they were friends, but despite all that baggage, their connection felt deep. It felt real.

Here with Azriel, Elain could almost see the life they could have. The love she thought she would never get to experience seemed so attainable with Azriel. She could picture them coming back here. Alone. She knew to get there, she needed to let Greyson go, and she knew just how to do it.

Twisting the cool metal around her finger, Elain slowly slid the ring off her hand. Azriel watched the approaching island, not noticing the small splash as Elain let the ring fall into the ocean. At that moment, Azriel didn’t know, but his presence, his words, gave her the strength to let go. The strength to leave it behind, leave Greyson behind. And as they drew closer to the island, Elain smiled, grasping Azriel’s hand - ready for this new chapter of her life to begin.

~

Azriel couldn’t help but grin as Elain took his hand and led him off the boat. The past two days pretending to be her boyfriend had been simultaneously heaven and hell. He got to touch her, support her, and love her without hiding, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t real. He wanted more, needed more. But it was fake. He knew his best option was to cherish the time he did have with her. Before it was over.

Sometimes, it was so hard to keep how he truly felt a secret. He was so tempted to leave it out in the open, but there was too much at stake. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose her friendship, to lose her. Maybe when it was all over, he would tell her. Maybe.

~

Elain loved her family to death, but after two full days of Rhys and Feyre eye fucking, Nesta and Cassian’s bickering, and her parents digging into her love life, she needed a break. Well, not so much a break, more like alone time with Azriel.

She was still holding his hand, and despite no longer being with her family, she was not planning on letting go any time soon. Elain led him through the bustling market with stands selling jewelry, shaved ice, and street food without giving any of them a second glance. She had been coming to this resort for years, and she knew just where she wanted to spend the rest of the day with him.

Once past the market, Elain led him down the familiar grey trail surrounded by grass and palm trees. She slowed her pace so they were walking next to each other, their hands swinging gently between them. She took a breath, inhaling the pleasant scent of the sea as well as a slight misty cedar scent she had become so accustomed too.

Azriel squeezed her hand gently, pulling her back to reality. Her cheeks flushed - she hoped he hadn’t known what she had been thinking about. “Sorry.” She smiled sheepishly. “Just got distracted.”

He laughed softly, the sound making her very soul feel lighter. “You’re cute when you’re distracted.”

“I see the flirting is still in your system after two days.”

“How can I resist?”

This was new. They had never really flirted when they didn’t have to. But if Azriel wanted to play, she could play.

She let go of his hand and wrapped her arm around his, leaning into him as they walked. She heard his sharp intake of breath in surprise and felt satisfaction at the fact that she could unnerve him so easily.

“You’re pretty irresistible too,” she said, looking up him through her lashes.

Azriel cleared his throat but met her gaze. “Where are you taking me Ms. Archeron?”

“It’s a surprise.”

~

They talked softly until Elain stopped in front of the hotel arcade, lights flashing and sounds of children playing within greeting them.

“I thought you could use some fun.” She smiled up at him.

“You thought right.”

“I mean, I don’t know how much fun you’ll be having after I beat you.”

“We’ll see about that.”

They started off with basketball, and Elain lost so badly, it wasn’t even fair to call it a game. It was such a beat down that Azriel ended up showing her how to shoot correctly, moving to stand behind her and move her through the motions. But with the warmth of his body against hers, his lips by her ear, his breath caressing her neck, she forgot how to think. Suddenly, it was way too hot–Elain suggested they play air hockey, if just to clear her head of the feeling of Azriel so close.

Azriel couldn’t stop staring at Elain as they played. Her honey locks falling out of her loose ponytail, the determination of her brows, the look of concentration clear in her eyes, and most of all the dazzling smile and joy that overtook her when she scored or blocked his shot. That look was worth missing the shot every single time.

By the time they decided to leave, it was dark out, and Azriel had won Elain a teddy bear, a rabbit, and even some sweet treats. It was by far the best date he’d ever had, and it wasn’t even a real date. He tried to not to think about that, instead savoring the time he had left with her.

“I had fun, Elain.” He smiled softly, giving her hand a squeeze.

“I’m so glad,” she said, squeezing his hand back.

Slowly making their way back to the hotel, they walked hand in hand, laughing lightly about all the fun they’d had.

When they finally got to the room, Elain just plopped down onto the bed. It was an exhausting day, and even though the night was young, she could barely keep her eyes open.

Azriel laid down beside her - both of them had gotten pretty comfortable sleeping together after the past few days. And although neither of them would admit it, they’d never slept better.

Elain sighed softly as she felt Azriel drape an arm around her. She leaned into his warmth and let herself drift to sleep.

~

Elain opened her eyes and saw that the bright red letters of the clock read 1:30 am. She’d been asleep a while but a nightmare had woken her. She hadn’t had one for weeks. She sat up, breathing deeply, reminding herself that she was with Azriel. She was safe.

“Elain?” Azriel stirred next to her. “Are you ok? What’s going on?”

“Nightmare,” she sighed softly.

“Are you ok? Do you want to talk about?” he asked, sitting up next to her.

“I’m ok. I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.

“Never apologize,” he said softly, stroking her back gently.

She leaned into him, savoring the comfort he provided. “Want to go for a walk?”

“Right now? It’s 2 am.” He chuckled raising a brow.

She blushed. “I just wanted a reason to be out with you.”

“Well, how can I refuse?”

The couple walked around the hotel, the warm breeze blowing through their hair. They headed towards the hotel’s restaurant and bar which still appeared to be open. Settling at a table in the back corner, Elain couldn’t stop herself from admiring the male across from her. The lighting brought out the warmth of Azriel’s eyes, so different from the cold grey ones she had been so accustomed to.

“I’ll get us some drinks. Be right back.” He smiled as he stood, making her stomach flip.

She nodded as he left and decided she would freshen up in the bathroom. She probably looked like a complete mess.

Elain looked down at her phone to see a text from Feyre. As she typed in the passcode to open her phone, she stumbled on a dip the ground and walked straight into someone. By the cauldron, why was she so clumsy?

Once stable, she looked up about to apologize when she saw those cold, and unforgiving eyes she tried to forget. The eyes that haunted her dreams.

Greyson.

Thanks for reading!

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