#i want to tag lucien but i know i will lose my head

[writeroutoftime]

pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground. 

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body. 

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard. 

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out. 

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred. 

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him. 

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate pt 8

Summary - When Kaylee Archeron meets Azriel, her world turns upside down. Between balancing her trauma, new powers, a mating bond, and war looming over her new home, Kaylee learns that everything is not as little as it once seemed.

Warnings - Violence, a tiny dragon, Elain being mean, sappy batboys trying to get their Kaylee home

A/n - Sheeeeees baaaaaack. I cut this into a part 8 and part 9 because I felt the ending was dramatic enough alone. Also, I am hoping I got all of you on the taglist, but please let me know if you want to be added or if I missed you. I am hitting my tag limit with this story, so I apologize for the reblog that's about to come.

Also, thank you @sarawritestories for cheering me on through my love hate relationship with this chapter

Series Masterlist ✨️ Azriel Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist

Azriel had never felt more broken than he did right now.

She was lonely.

His mate was lonely.

He moved to her slowly, kneeling before her and stroking her cheek. “Let me take you home, Kaylee. It's going to get too cold here. You hate being cold.”

Kaylee wouldn't look at him. She didn't move from his touch, but she didn't acknowledge him either. It stung him to his core to see her like this. “Kaylee, starlight, please, come home. I will bring you back tomorrow if I must, just please come home.”

“Did you do it?” 

Azriel knew immediately what she meant. His stomach dropped as he got closer, finally feeling her soft skin under his. “No. I never touched her. You are mine, Kaylee. I am yours." He took her chin in his hand, forcing her face to his. "You are the only female I will ever want. I've waited over 500 years for you.”

And those long years wishing to the lost souls during Starfall and to every twinkling piece of starlight felt so miniscule now. What was 500 years compared to the eternity he was fated to have with Kaylee. Beautiful, kind, and innocent Kaylee. “I would never risk losing you.”  He almost jumped as the drake huffed, golden brown eyes opening to stare at the 3 males before snuggling into Kaylee. 

Azriel tentatively reached out, patting the nose of the beast resting his head in Kaylee's lap. “He is fairly attached to you already.” 

“Can you blame him?” Cassian took a small step towards Kaylee, gently tilting her head up. “Have you ever met someone like our Kaylee?”

Rhysand then moved closer to. “Such pure souls are rare. And it appears we all made a mistake while dealing with this one.” His hand brushed her golden hair back. “Come home, little sister.”

She shook her head, eyes watering as she snuggled into the drake's snoot and kissed it. “He is so lonely.” Another soft huff came. Then, the scent of magic. Where a large drake once laid, a small one now sat in Kaylee's hands. Wide blue eyes turned to Rhysand, a pout already forming and triggering a distant memory he didn't dare linger on for too long. “Can we keep him?” 

An otter, a drake, a rabbit, a fox. Azriel had lost track of the animals sneaking into Kaylee's room to join her as she slept soundly in his arms. She had never said she forgave him, never asked for more of an explanation, but she knew she did not want him to leave again. She knew she wanted him in her bed, even if a small scaled creature now shared her pillow. 

He pulled her close, breathing in her freshly cleaned hair. The scent of strawberries was clinging to her, but it was not her. Her natural scent had started to change, and Azriel could not complain. It now reminded him of a soft rain mixing with lilac, as if she was becoming nature itself.

He smiled as she turned over, hooking her leg over his. He pulled her closer, sighing softly at the same time she did. For the first time since she left with Lucien, Azriel found himself drifting off to sleep. Even if a creature he should have feared was currently crawling onto his mate and curling up on her side near him. 

Kaylee hated mornings, but she especially hated waking up alone after asking her mate to stay. As if he knew, Azriel walked into the room a tray in his hands as gray pants rested low on his hips. “Good morning,” he sent a small plate on the floor, watching as the unnamed drake went to the raw meat. His attention was then solely on her as he set the tray down and offered her his arm, leading her to the sitting area of her lavish room. 

Rhys had decorated it with pillows and throw blankets. She remembered him sparkling with pride as the mix of deep blues and golds, as if decorating so simply was a difficult task. She has praised him nonetheless, cherishing the budding relationship with her new big brother, and somehow sensing he needed a little sister to tell him how fantastic he truly was. She did just notice, though, how they matched Azriel's siphons. “This doesn't count as accepting the bond, right?”

Azriel chuckled softly as he gave Kaylee oatmeal and fruits, “Not unless you plan on feeding or serving me. Do you want to talk now or eat first?” They both jumped as the sound of blowing fire filled the room before a heavy munching noise. “Well that answers that question.”

He watched her as she ate. He memorized little things. How she swayed when she ate. How her nose would crinkle, smile going wide when she tasted something she was really enjoying. How her mouth would twitch when she smelled things. “You understand now why we wouldn't eat your food?”

Kaylee smiled as she rolled her eyes, “I cooked that meal.”

He clocked her nose twitch, noting it for later. “You did? Is that a preview of my future? Because if it is, I will prepare my own mating meal and just have you serve it."

Her jaw fell open before she threw a grape at him. “You are so mean.” 

“Tasted like shit.”

“Then I guess it's good I didn't actually make it.”

“Thank the Mother. I was concerned for my stomach." Kaylee smiled before leaning in to kiss bis cheek. "

Your nose twitches when you lie.” He watched her face fall slightly. “I noticed it when you told Feyre you would be okay after that first dinner. Then again, when she left after the first meeting. You also dance when you eat. When you sleep, your legs move until you find the perfect spot for them.”

Kaylee felt herself flushing, hearing all his little observations of her smallest habits, and Azriel smirked before he continued. “You whisper when you read, sounding out each word until you know you're correct. That's how we realized you couldn't read. You braid your hair when you get nervous. Rhys found that one for me as he was teaching you. You do all these simple little things that make me believe you are the most beautiful precious thing.” 

He grabbed her hands, holding them in his own. “I am sorry.” She nodded, brows raising to indicate to continue. He noted that as well, predicted this would not be his last apology to his mate. “I allowed myself to put duty before you, and it put us in a situation where you felt I was someone you could no longer trust. Rhysand and I have discussed his part in this, and he will apologize later, but my part hurt you more.” 

Kaylee felt herself losing her will to hold on to what little anger she had as he moved, kneeling before her. “I am sorry I was ever in her room. I am sorry I was too shocked to leave. I am sorry I did not speak with you right away that morning.”

“It's okay.” She could hardly blink before he kneeled for her. “Az-”

“It's not okay, Kaylee.” He listened to her heart as he touched her lower thighs. “I hurt you. I failed to protect you. I failed you as your mate.”

“Azriel-”

“Let me finish.” He brushed the tears falling on her face and sighed. “My job as your mate is to ensure you feel loved, that you are safe, and that you know we are equals in everything. I have allowed myself to be pulled away from you, and you needed me much more than your sisters did, didn't you?”

Kaylee looked to the ceiling, the door, anywhere but the male who she knew could feel every raw emotion she had. He squeezed her thighs softly, bringing her back to him. “Your silence is enough of an answer for me to know I have failed you. If you believe I am worthy of a third chance, I will not fail you again. I will be a male worthy of your love.” She was silent, too stunned to speak. “Kaylee, my love, please.”

Kaylee had to admit, Azriel looked pretty on his knees. He looked pretty begging for forgiveness over something that he didn't do. Over something she was learned was planned by her own sisters. 

Azriel kissed her palms, holding her hands so tightly it was as if he feared she'd disappear like the wind. "Whatever I have to do, whatever you need me to be, whatever you need. I will do anything to be worthy of holding you again. Kaylee, please." 

Kaylee just sighed, cupping his cheek as she did and stared into those desperate hazel eyes. “We have two weeks to put a strong united front.” He nodded in agreement, but his brows knit in confusion over the statement. “I want to also have a better relationship with you within two weeks. Just to shove it to Eris. But that also means you have to allow me to do something first.” He jumped her without hesitation, crashing her lips to his and delighting in her laughter. 

He would give Kaylee the world, live and breathe solely for the purpose of her happiness, and now he had to prove it.

Dinner that night was silent as Kaylee watched Elain watching Azriel. He had not left Kaylee's side since long slow kisses were shared in her room. They had only stopped when Rhys and Feyre came, knocking on the door after their late breakfast. The Lord and Lady laughed as Kaylee answered the door, hair a tangled mess from Azriel's hands while he laid panting on her bed in a state of bliss. 

He had not even left her as Rhysand trained her powers, watching as she called forth every beast and creature in her collection and communicated with them. Her powers had grown quickly, almost too quickly. The warning was still visible on her discolored fingers.

Kaylee had access to levels of magic that had not been granted since the first fae, levels that were hand given out by the Gods to their chosen few and carrying along those bloodlines in the rarest form. Lucien's warning rang in his and Rhysand's head, a warning of the former tamer who turned more beast than fae before walking off into the forest to never been seen again. 

It festered in the thoughts of both males as they communicated silently, involving Amren as they all looked to the youngest sister's discolored fingertips. It's as if the magic I'd eating at her body, Amren was studying her like a hawk. I will look into the Books.

Kaylee cut into her potato, smiling slightly as Azriel traded her steamed vegetables for the serving of meat she had not touched. “Kaylee, we're going to have to find a way to supplement proteins in your diet.”

Nesta shook her head and spoke softly, “She will get over it.” Nesta had been Kaylee's first fight since learning the truth. Her oldest sister had folded immediately. All cattiness out of her body as soon as they were alone together. Broken together.

And Nesta was broken. A simple fact Kaylee had known for a while. Her oldest sister had not thought of the consequences. She had just wanted Kaylee to hurt as much as she was, and watching her thrive, watching her grow, it had been too much. Kaylee allowed Nesta to hold her to whisper each apology. An apology for not protecting her, for what happened to them, for failing as a sister, and Kaylee accepted each one. It was a side of Nesta reserved only for Kaylee. The side of Nesta she told Cassian about and prayed had not been stolen from them. 

Nesta smiled to Kaylee, “She did this even when we were-” the sentence trailed off with the fond memory. “Azriel, the earring you bought Kaylee are lovely.”

“They are, aren't they?” Rhys moved to brush blonde hair behind a pointed ear. “They work well with the sapphires.” Small diamond twinkled next to the earring Azriel had given her before the Cauldron, sparkling in the light and showing off her newest piercing. 

Azriel maintained his mask, but moved a hand to her thigh under the table. “Only the best for my mate.” 

“And if she doesn't actually want you?” The question hung in the air. “Or if you don't truly want her? You two are forced together. Do you not deserve a choice, Azriel?"

“Elain,” Lucien's warning was a whisper. “Thread carefully.”

Lucien watched as the young Archeron put her silverware down. He watched her take out those mentioned earrings as everything paused as Feyre moved closer to Rhysand and away from Elain. 

“Mother fuck!” Cassian jumped back as Kaylee jumped Elain and chaos ensued. Nesta was the first to her two younger sisters, trying to pull the small wild animal that had taken Kaylee's place off of Elain as Mor and Amren watched with amused smiles. Rhys was next, touching Nesta's shoulder, stating he would handle it, only to be met with a well placed elbow from the now smirking eldest sister.

Azriel and Lucien stared at each other, both rapidly motioning for the other to do something as Kaylee landed a solid punch on Elain's shoulder. "You first. I insist," Lucien motioned towards them. "I already am missing one eye. I would like to keep the other." It was instantly noted by all in the room how the youngest sister was refusing to truly hurt Elain, to damage her more as tears of frustration and anger poured down Kaylee's face.

It was Cassian who finally took the youngest, throwing her over her shoulder and leaving the room with her. Kaylee watched each of his graceful steps, knowing where they were going as she clung to his leathers crying. He sunk her into the training ring, stepping back a few feet before getting into a stance and nodding. 

He braced himself for her sloppy attacks, knowing more than anything to cover his face, but knowing this was nothing. This was nothing compared to her anger when she first woke up. The only difference between the Kaylee before him and the one who begged to be trained was precision. He saw his opening, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her back to his chest. “Breathe, Kaylee.” He kissed the back of her head as her thrashing stopped. “Just breathe.” 

She could not see Cassian as the sobs slowed. She could not see the concern on his face as he looked to the skies.

Flying there in its full glory, circling above them like a predator searching for prey, was her drake, and Cassian was just hoping he, and no one in Velaris, was about to be it's next meal.

@impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless

Bound by Fate:

@cat-or-kitten @knmendiola @holb32

@mis-lil-red @minakay @whatsupb18 @deeshag @justdreamstars @pyrostatic @acourtofmarvels @no1massassin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @acourtofbatboydreams @mich0731 @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit

@coralseacourt @snoopyspace @tothestarsandwhateverend @st4r-girl-official @brieflyclassymortal @nickishadow139 @julesofvolterra @isa1b2h3 @awkward-mystic-beauty @12358 @throneofsmut @inloveallthetime @throneofsapphics @hnnybee0 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @vermillionwinter @mybestfriendmademe @mrstepes @darling006 @mich0731 @wallacewillow0773638 @hnyclover

[fieldofdaisiies]

In canon. During a shopping trip with Vassa in the Day Court, Elain happens to stumble upon a golden nightgown (or "lingerie to surprise her mate with" as Vassa calls it). Elain can't wait to find out what mate says about it. for @elucienweekofficial | elucienweek masterlist | read on ao3 | explicit | thank you so much @moonlightazriel for beta reading

“Elain!” Vassa calls over her shoulder, holding something in her fingers that has yet to be revealed to Elain.

“Coming,” the Archeron sister answers her friend who has come for a visit to the Day Court, alongside her husband. They are staying here for a few weeks, in a small hut provided to them by Helion. And while Lucien and Jurian are out in the forests of the court, hunting and catching up after not seeing each other for so long, Elain and Vassa are spending their day in a small village close to the palace which offers many little and wonderful shops.

When Elain eventually gets back to Vassa, fighting her way through the large piles of undergarments and lingerie, she almost stops dead in her tracks — what Vassa is holding up for her is a whisper of nothing. Golden lace and a few straps of satin of the same colour to hold the pieces together. Apart from that … nothing.

“Lucien will love it!” Vassa is beaming, wiggling the flimsy nightgown into Elain‘s face, her eyes alight with joyfulness.

And although Elain has never ever worn something like this, has never worn lingerie for her mate at all, she knows she wants to get it. Not only for Lucien. But also for herself. She has a feeling she will feel pretty and confident in it, or at least she hopes so. But one thing she knows is that Lucien loves it when she does so.

“It will render him more speechless than he already is when looking at you,” Vassa muses, pushing the nightgown into Elain‘s hands. “He will lose his mind when he sees you in it, I know this.”

With a scrunched nose, and a soft giggle, Elain turns to head for the fitting room. She is almost inside when she looks over her shoulder and says, “Thank you so much for being my friend, Vassa.”

And she means it. She had never had a friendship so pure and genuine. She loves her friend, more than most things, and knows how lucky she is to have found someone like the firebird.

continue on ao3

general elucien tag list: @rippahwrites @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop @aayo-whatt @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone @berryzxx @shadowqueenjude @areyoudreaminof

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

It's another Wednesday people, let's see those wips. Tagged by the always incredible @changelingsandothernonsense (seeing Josh always improves my day <3) and I got tagged @bostoniangirl21 for a WIP whenever <3

Tagging: @dirty-bosmer @theoneandonlysemla @lucien-lachance @thequeenofthewinter @captain-of-silvenar @firefly-factory

@pocket-vvardvark @hircines-hunter @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @umbracirrus

Do I have two chapters I should be working on? Yes. Am I working on a silly little Post-Alduin/Pre-Happy Ending self-induglant fic instead? Absolutely :P Under the cut because suggestive, enjoy! 🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

“You went swimming often at home, did you?” 

“I did, whenever I was stressed; hence I’ve been in the water every day since returning.” She looks up at him with a soft smile, a memory coming into view. “When I was young I used to tell my father I wanted to grow up and be a mermaid.” He laughs. 

“A mermaid? Well, that’s quite the ambition.” 

“Oh I had a plan and everything, asked Father to find a wizard who could do it. I didn’t know how magic worked at the time so I thought wizards could do anything. And Father had a guy for everything, ergo he had a guy who could turn me into a mermaid.”

“Ah yes, there must be some type of alteration spell that could do that.” He leans down to kiss her, she notes that this is the first kiss he’s initiated this evening. Though appreciated of how gentle he’s being, so very grateful for him; how badly she wants more than just a kiss. “That’s very amusing of you.” He chuckles. “You’re certainly beautiful enough, I’m sure if I saw you out at sea I’d be easily fooled.”

“You would, would you?” An opportunity seems to be arising. “Do you think I could convince you to jump overboard? Plunge yourself into the sea to be with me?” She pulls him down, their lips meeting again. Carefully, she nibbles on the corner which only succeeds in making him break the kiss. 

His pupils are wide, glossy-eyed but he still shows concern. 

“Theodora, are you sure you want this? I am far from against it but I do not want you forcing yourself on my behalf. Last thing I want is to rush, forget myself and hurt you.” 

“I love your concern, Ondolemar; it’s what is making me want to. Knowing you’ll be so tender and slow.” Eyes are lidded for the next sentence. "I have beaten back the World-Eater, no mere mortal can hurt in a way that matters. Certainly not the likes of him." She grabs the front of his tunic. "And besides, I'd have to force myself not to want you, and as we know that is futile effort." The change in expression indicates he gives credence to her answer. 

“Is that so?” Another kiss, deeper and it makes her head spin. Yes. Despite the urge to sit back further, nearly laying down and pulling him on top of her, she doesn’t. He has a question to answer. 

“I believe I asked you a question.” 

“Hmm.” He steals another quick peck. “You did, you wanted to know if I’d throw myself overboard, so captivated by you by you I lose all sense of reason. 

“Yes.” She hums. 

“Well, you’ve bewitched me across the province, tempted me into closets while both of us are surrounded by our superior officers; it would seem I abandoned reason long ago. I think a better question is what I wouldn’t do for you?” He looks off into the distance. “To that which I do not know.” He turns back to her, barely hearing what he says as she’s so distracted by how the fire makes him glow. “So yes, you could probably get me to drown myself if you looked at me the right way.”

Between the warmth of the fire and his equally burning gaze, Theodora feels unbearably hot. Her eyes slowly move from him to the water. The light from Masser and Secunda makes the lake look so inviting, the summer breeze still warm despite the night. If he’d throw himself overboard then perhaps… Taking his hand she goes for it. 

“What are you doing?” Her boots are kicked off and then thrown back towards the fire. 

“I’m testing your claim.” 

“Do not tell me you expect me to get in the water with you, it’s likely teeming with slaughterfish.” She rolls her eyes, giggling.

“I’ll have you know they stay much further east in summer.”  

“Ah, so they are found here.” Hmmm, what was that he said? If I looked at him the right way? 

“If you’re too afraid of being an exotic snack to the creatures of Lake Illinata, you can stay here, love.” Tuning away from him, the stale tunic and brown trousers find their way to the ground. Though she normally forgoed smallclothes when home alone, particularly now as she couldn’t even be bothered with the rest of the world; the choice was proving even more fruitful when she turned back around. “But I’m going to cool off.” Fingers fleetingly touch his clothed chest before she enters her beloved lake. 

Facing him, she watches his eyes linger as the water envelopes her. It’s brisk and invigorating, but could be so much more so if she was not alone. 

“It’s lovely in here, Ondolemar.” Laying on her back, Theodora continues taunting him. “Why don’t you come join me?” Slipping beneath she submerges herself, finding so much peace in the quiet below. Popping back up, hair flipping overhead, she looks at him the right way. That much is evident as he removes his own clothes, casting them aside to wade through the water. As he approaches, the wanting expression creates quite the contrast with his words. 

“So this will be how I die.”

[crazy-ache]

ACOTAR tag game 💕

Thanks for tagging me @the-darkestminds @zenkindoflove @ataraxiasflame @starsreminisce and @teddyhoneybear!!!

Answer the questions below & tag whoever you want, or make it an open tag!!

Who's your favourite ACOTAR character?

Lucien Vanserra. Since Book 1.

Who's your least favourite character?

Ianthe. I am currently re-reading ACOWAR and god she is the worst. Especially for all she did to Feyre and my baby Lucien. I also hate that she was a missed opportunity for a complex, female villain, perhaps with undertones of religious motivations....instead of another female sexual predator villain in Sarah's books. Sigh.

Say something nice about your least favourite character.

She got what she deserved!!! :-)

Who's your favourite High Lord? (If you picked one for your fav character, then who's your second fav!)

Helion Spell-Cleaver. I am very into his tragic love story with the Lady of Autumn. It gives me Greek mythology vibes. My head canon is that Helion told her to reject the bond, to protect her from the wrath of Beron, and to protect her sons. He begged and begged her to do it, because it was better for him to suffer than for her to lose her life.

Favourite MINOR character?

Jurian, hands down. He's got that tortured asshole soul vibe going on. A human who is not remotely phased by magic or Fae after all the shit he's been through. People underestimate how brilliant and wise he probably is....because he's an ass lmao. And I love that about him.

Favourite ship? (Crackships included!)

ELUCIEN FOREVER.

Favourite court and why?

Autumn Court. The political intrigue. The fall vibes. The amazing forests. It feels very faerie and I want to see more of that lore in the coming books.

Make up a brand new court RIGHT NOW, NO PREP JUST VIBES.

Court of Mountains --> Picture this. Influences from the Incan Empire. Think of buildings and temples built into the mountains, like Machu Picchu. I picked this because I've visited it before/share roots with it and it felt magical - the lore, the beauty, the mountains .... it would make for an incredible kind of court we haven't seen before. I am envisioning the people have magic that controls the Earth (like Earthbenders!) and it helps them live and survive in the difficult landscapes, away from the other courts. IDK I made this all up now.

What relationship would you have wanted to see more of in the books?

I need an Elain and Eris friendship arc and I need it now.

What's your unpopular opinion?

That the Elucien book is next, then a novella, and then a Gwynriel book. Ha.

What's your favourite headcanon/fan canon?

That although Lucien never told Papa Archeron directly, the man figured it out by himself that Lucien was the one for Elain. Maybe he didn't know the word mate but he said - wait a second. They're going to be together. This fae is a little too interested in her, but I like him. And he gives him his blessing before he dies. I think he's the one who told Lucien that Elain is worth waiting for...and to take her to the tulip fields one day. YES I WROTE A WHOLE ASS FIC FOR THIS

If you were swept away to Prythian, what's ONE thing you would want to do?

Lucien

I want to experience all the magic. Just frolic through a field and really feel this fae magical world, see the creatures, witness the magic and spells, just be absolutely bewitched by it all.

If you could have ONE faerie ability seen in the books, which would it be?

Y'all I want fire magic. Because I've always wanted to be a fire bender. IYKYK

No pressure tags!! @works-of-heart @yaralulu @animezinglife @shadowqueenjude

[achaotichuman]

A Field Of Dahlias

Notes:

Finally free of the Mountain and Amarantha's grip on the people. The Spring Court is scrambling to get back to normal. With their wedding not far away, Tamlin is struggling to keep his Court from falling into disarray. When he starts to get sick things begin to take a turn for the worse and worser.

When Feyre is taken by the Lord of Night, it doesn't look like anything it can get any worse. With his life experience Tamlin should know that things can always get worse.

Request- Do you think you could write about dahlia in this context: https://www.tumblr.com/praetorqueenreyna/737196004108058624?source=share, hopefully featuring deadbeat at first mom feyre, horrified stepdad rhysand, tired of it all tamlin and a supportive lucien/eris.

Anyway here is this little fic. Also here is part 1, part 2, and part 3 if you missed 'em. You can also read this on Squidgeworld, or AO3.

Also! I am now realizing I have strayed entirely from what the original prompt was, which was basically the exact same events of Acomaf and Acowar just with the added inclusion of Tamlin being pregnant with Feyre's kid. Buuuut this is my story and I shall do as I please.

Plus if I rewrote the entirety of the Acomaf and Acowar books this would be unnecessarily long and I would lose all interest, so in an effort to keep things fun I have pretty much scraped the entire plot of Acowar and made it my own.

I think my ideas are more fun anyway. But when I tell you this plot is was deeper than I meant it to be, I mean it.

Anyway enjoy!

Tag- @sonics-atelier (Anyone who wants to be on the tag list, feel free to ask me!)

____________________________________________________

The next few days passed, each seeming longer than the rest. Meetings with Hybern that lasted hours, and keeping the mask glued to her face. 

Lucien often found his way to the former human, snarking with him in the corner, sharpening his tongue and finding every way to irk the General. 

Though it seemed Jurian entertained his game with insane eyes and a twisted grin. Lucien met it with skilled words and smart replies. Watching them dance around each other as they practically sized the other up was entertaining in it’s own way, Tamlin supposed. 

Tamlin found herself coming into contact with the woman in robes more often than she liked. 

Lady Amber, with her cunning mouth and smart eyes, she was a threat. A cruel snake in tall grass. Always lurking around the corners in the shadows. Watching with slanted eyes, everytime she opened her mouth Tamlin expected to see a forked tongue. 

After a meeting, Lucien remained engaged with Jurian in whatever talk they had found. Jurian watched him with a cocked head and eyes that barely blinked. He looked as though he had lost it. 

Tamlin slipped away from the meeting. A murmured goodbye to the Lords and an apology that she would not stay later. Hybern had brushed her off as he spoke to another Lord, and Tamlin was too tired to snap for a response. 

Passing through the cold hallways, she kept her eyes ahead, watching the crawling shadows. A chill ran down over her skin, showering her in goosebumps. 

As she walked over wooden floors. Dark green dress whispering around her ankles, she almost wished she had just grabbed Lucien, or someone to escort her. 

She hated this place. Hated every room, every reminder of the woman who had made her life hell for so long. 

But that would be stupid, she knew her way back to her room, and didn’t need someone to hold her hand. 

But as she turned a corner, Tamlin nearly jumped. 

Lady Amber stared at him, with her cruel icy eyes. Tamlin took a quick step back, one hand subconsciously going to her womb, the other falling to her thigh, where a concealed dagger laid. 

“Lady Amber, I didn’t expect to see you.” Tamlin told her. 

“Just taking a breath of fresh air.” She smiled. Even her voice sent chills down her spine. 

“I see,” Tamlin replied, “Well, you enjoy yourself, I must be getting to my rooms.”

But as she went to walk past her, Lady Amber chimed, “Leaving so soon? Come Lady, we have barely spoken these past few days.”

Tamlin swallowed and said, “Well, we have been quite busy.”

She went to step away again, but Lady Amber moved smoothly to block her way to her rooms. 

Shit. 

Tamlin breathed a tad quicker than she needed to, and Amber noted that she cocked her head, a serpent's smile on her face, “Well, neither of us are busy now. Please, let us talk.”

Tamlin swallowed, another action she noted, shit, “About?”

“How far are you along?” Amber asked, tilting her head to the other side slowly. 

She considered not answering, but ended up replying, “Five months.”

“Halfway then,” She murmured. 

The world seemed to darken, Tamlin took a step back, feeling like something was pressing in around her lungs. Constricting her breathing, “Yes.”

“That is very interesting, and the father, or mother, is the Cursebreaker? Right?” She took another step forward. 

“Yes.” Tamlin let the agitation shine in her voice, “Now, if that is all you have to ask, I will be on my way-”

“Oh but darling, I have more questions,” She said, reaching out a hand, her sleeve pulled back to reveal a bracelet of emerald. Her fingers brushed Tamlin’s arms, and she reeled back. 

“Please do not touch me.” She insisted. 

“Oh I apologise, my dear, but please do answer all my questions.” She prowled closer and Tamlin felt like prey caught in a hunting trap. 

“I can answer any more questions in the meeting tonight.” Tamlin said, “Now please, I will be going.”

She pushed past Amber and headed in the direction of her room, wanting to sprint, to run, to go, go, go-

Amber grabbed her arm with such a force, bruises would surely be left. 

Tamlin screamed, but a palm was slapped over her mouth. 

She tried to summon claws, her magic fought to the surface. Screaming and crying as it raced to protect its favoured son. 

But Tamlin cried out again as her magic slammed into a wall, preventing it from escaping. It shoved and pushed, and screamed and it felt like he was exploding under her skin. 

Her eyes had screwed shut but when she opened them she saw the bracelet on Amber’s wrist glowing golden. 

“My daughter has told me much about you, Spring Lord. And the power this child could have.” She whispered cruelly. 

Tamlin struggled against her arms, but Amber was deceptively strong. And she was feeling weaker and weaker. 

She laughed, “Emeralds hold much power from my family. Ours are enchanted, my dear.”

Tamlin tried to scream, tried to run, but Amber pulled her closer. 

“The birth of your child will fuel the magic of Spring for centuries to come. To harvest that energy,” Amber's hand slipped down to take away the dagger from Tamlin’s thigh, “We would be unstoppable.”

No. 

No, no, no, no. 

She laughed, and that dagger began to slide over whatever bare skin she could find, “Even your blood holds power, it sings-”

“Amber!” A voice shouted. 

Tamlin cried with relief as Amber quickly threw her to the floor. Barely catching herself on her knees. 

Shit.

Dear Gods-

Looking up, Tamlin saw a familiar face. 

Jurian was leaning against the wall. Eyes wide, mouth curled into a grin, face twisted with insanity. Tamlin couldn’t exactly blame him if he had lost himself, afterall he had been an eye ring not just a few months back. 

“Jurian.” Amber said smoothly, “To what do we owe your company?”

She didn’t keep the sneer out of her voice. The man flicked his eyes between Tamlin and her, tilting his head to the side, looking like a cunning cat. 

“The King has sent for you two.”

Amber straightened at that. Eyes glancing down to Tamlin. Burning with such an intensity Tamlin heard the words she spoke, ‘Don’t tell him a thing that happened here.’

As if the King of Hybern would care if she had been trying to kill her. 

“And why would that be, Jurian?” Amber asked bluntly. 

His grin twisted into something insane once more, “Why the delightful Cursebreaker has come.”

She was going to be sick. She was going to be sick all over the floors, or pass out, or a combination of the two. Tamlin raced to stand beside Jurian, and Amber maintained a leisurely pace behind them. 

Her heart was thundering against her ribcage. Desperately wanting to run. To hide, to leave immediately. But there was nothing to be done. A predator at her back and an insane man at her side, there was no telling what either of them could, or would, do. 

They went through the dark tunnels, and then finally, they were opening the large, heavy doors to the throne room. 

Amber then strutted ahead and Tamlin sighed with relief as she was finally in front of her and not leering behind. 

Hybern sat upon the massive, black carved throne. Soldiers flanking at every side. Many hidden in shadows, waiting and watching. Lucien was standing near to the throne but when he laid eyes on Tamlin, he ran to her.  

“Tamlin are you-” Lucien blinked as he saw the sheer panic in her eyes, “Tamlin what happened?”

“We have to get out of here.” She whispered quickly. 

“Dear Gods, the Night Court-” Lucien cupped her face. 

“Lord and Lady of Spring, come forward.” Hybern barked. 

Lucien looked over his shoulder and quickly took Tamlin’s hand leading her up to stand beside the throne. 

Leaning in, he whispered, “Keep up the mask a little longer Tam, we’ll get out of here.”

Dear Cauldron and Mother. 

The room was large, the ceiling looming far overtop of her. The throne she stood beside, was the same one she had seen her father kneel before. Seen Amarantha kneel before. 

Now she stood there. Below the same King that had allowed his General to take over Prythian. 

From the shadows of the throne room, she saw blue eyes glaring, and a cruel smile. Amber watched from where she could not be seen. Emerald bracelet gleaming in the minimal light. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

She was being hunted. Prey in a trap. Prey in a trap. Prey in a trap. 

Lucien’s eyes followed her. Finding the glowing sky blue in the shadows. He looked back at Tamlin, opening his mouth to ask, or to accuse Amber. But he was cut short when the doors slammed open. 

And writhing, kicking and screaming, was Rhysand and Feyre Archeron. 

Her blood turned to ice. 

She was dressed fully in Night Court uniform. Face twisted in hatred and anger. Eyes glowing with a storm. 

Lucien stepped out in front of Tamlin, half hiding her from sight. Just enough that Feyre would only be able to make out half of Tamlin’s face and blonde hair. 

“Welcome Night Court, to the Kingdom of Hybern.” Dae drawled from his throne. 

“You.” Feyre hissed with such venom Tamlin nearly flinched. 

“King of Hybern.” Rhysand murmured. His voice reverberated with power, even if he was held back by guards. 

Three others came into view, and Tamlin’s eyes went wide at the Night Court entourage. Two Illyrian warriors, and a blonde-headed female with wide brown eyes. All their faces pulled back into snarls. All their eyes found the King of Hybern. 

Feyre however was staring right at Tamlin and Lucien. She screamed something that Tamlin couldn’t make out. 

“What an interesting group,” Dae said. Dragging a finger up the arm of his throne, “So you’re the great Cursebreaker? Finally a face to put to the name.”

“Release us!” Feyre screamed at him. 

“Now, I cannot do that so soon, Feyre.” Dae said, “Why, you just got here. After trying to steal away with my little prize no less.”

Little prize…

“We’ll return to our Court.” Rhysand offered. “And give you no more trouble.”

Liar, as always. His ploy was as clear as crystal water, yet there was something nearly trusting in it. 

Daemati magic, he was attempting to coax the King into releasing them. 

Dae just laughed at his attempt, “Then I wouldn’t be fulfilling my part of the bargain.”

“Bargain?” The blonde haired female questioned. 

Dae then gestured to the Spring lords beside him, “Why my bargain with Spring of course. I help to return their missing fawn, and I will have their loyalties in the War soon to come.”

“You bargained with them.” Feyre breathed, her spiteful face nearly blank for a moment. Before it curdled into undying rage, “You bargained to steal me back!”

“Feyre.” Tamlin breathed. 

“How fucking dare you!” She screamed, voice raw and powerful. Echoing through the room. 

That was the mother of her child. His child. Tamlin looked between Hybern and Feyre. Hybern who smiled so coldly down at her. Eyes narrowed and cruel. Feyre’s mouth was pulled back into a snarl as she pulled and kicked against the guards holding her down. Like if she was free she would run at the King, or Tamlin. Lucien seemed to sense that as he subconsciously held out an arm. Keeping Tamlin locked behind him. 

Rhysand’s violet eyes jumped around the room. Locking into everyone. Taking into account every piece on the playing field. 

Tamlin sucked in a breath, grazing Lucien’s arm with his fingers, “Feyre, we are saving you from him-”

“How dare you decide what is good for me!” She cut him off with a shout, “You have no right.”

“Feyre.” He felt the High lord’s power seeping into his voice, and begged it to stay at bay. For now.

“You will not take my mate back there.” Rhysand snarled, violet eyes glowing with barely concealed power. 

The day outside felt like it got a little colder. And Tamlin's eyes went wide as his heart pounded against his ribcage. Mask slipping away as anger took hold of him. Burning inside his flesh, face heating up, bones tightening in his skin. He wanted to shift claws and fur and teeth and lash at Rhysand, but a hand reaching over to brush the back of his hand halted every action. Lucien’s eyes were set on the Night Court, but Tamlin could hear the unspoken words. 

‘Just a little longer.’

Hold out, keep the beast at bay, just a little while longer. 

So Tamlin straightened his back. Summoning the face of the High lord of Spring, he felt the cruel cold mask of his father slip away as he faced Rhysand with all the raw, unfiltered hatred he held for him, “I do not care if she is your mate, I do not care if you think you have a right to lay claim to her. She is mine and she is coming home with me.”

Tamlin remembered his mother’s face when his father laid claim to her time and time again. He remembered the tragic story of the former Lady Spring, how she had been taken by his father and claimed without consent, all for the crime of being his mate. 

Tamlin wouldn’t let that happen to Feyre. 

Never would he ever stand by and let that happen to any other female again, least of all his Feyre. His sarcastic, wild, beautiful Feyre. 

But as the words left his mouth something deeply rooted, and hateful twisted in Feyre’s eyes. Causing the storm to darken like never before, she tried to leap forward but was reigned in by Hybern’s soldiers. 

“Let her go.” Tamlin ordered, turning his eyes up to Hybern. 

But Dae just lifted a finger, an order to be silent. Tamlin nearly snapped but Lucien’s hand gripped him quickly. 

Damn it. 

Dae lounged back in his throne, “Now, this has been as interesting as ever, but if I may, I would like to perform a little experiment.”

At those words, all eyes snapped to the King of Hybern. Lucien’s head turned so quickly Tamlin thought he heard the Fox’s neck crack. 

“What-” Tamlin murmured, but his words were cut off. 

The giant, black stone room seemed to darken for a moment, like the lights had flickered on and off simulatanously. 

In between a heartbeat, the air shifted, tightening until it was nearly to heavy to breathe. Shadows pressed in and darkness swirled in his vision. It was like a presence had descended in Hybern. 

An earth shattering clap of thunder, Tamlin jumped back and Lucien grabbed him by the waist. The Night Court reeled back, and someone screamed. 

But the doors of the throne room were thrown open so quickly they slammed against the walls. 

And four figures strutted in with their heads high, eyes cruel and each wearing the same twisted expression. 

Four human women, each with flaming eyes of a multitude of colours. Like different colour flames. Each breath was a puff of power into the whirlpool of magic that had shadowed the throne room. 

There was a shout of something incomprehensible and the two Illyrian warriors tried to rush at the human women, but the soldiers were fasted and in a split second, the two were chained to the floor by threads of black magic. 

There was laughter and smiles from the humans as they gazed upon Fae brought so low. One, an older female were greying hair and silver eyes, stopped before the Illyrians, glaring down with a smile. 

Tamlin felt the hatred burning off of her, years of remembrance from times humans kneeled before Fae was in her gaze. The High lord of Spring couldn’t say the hatred for their kind wasn’t deserved. It absolutely was.

But then she turned her eyes up to Hybern as the four approached his throne. 

The seemingly eldest of the group spoke first, “Hybern, make this trip worth our time.”

“As if I ever wouldn’t.” Dae purred to her. Eyes gleaming wickedly. Something like disgust gleamed in hers, but she held his evil smile with a uncanny version of her own. 

“What is-” Rhysand yelled out, cut off by a guard pulling him back by a rope that had been quickly tied around his neck. 

Lucien moved even further in front of him. Hands twitching like he might just grab Tamlin, toss him over his shoulder and run. 

Tamlin put a hand on his shoulder, if only to prevent him from doing just that. 

“This, Lord of Night,” The eldest human purred, “is power.”

They bargained. 

It was clear as day, Tamlin saw in all their eyes was magic that shouldn’t belong to humans. It came from a bargain. 

And it was only confirmed by Dae’s next words, “The Queens of the Human realms and I have created a bargain of our own. I give them the power they so desire, and in return I have their support.”

The blonde female on the floor, next to Feyre, screamed, it was raw and guttural, “We had a deal!”

The Queens just grinned with cruel eyes. 

Hybern was planning to invade the mortal world. To take them all back as slaves, and the Queens had countered with a plan of their own making. A last ditch effort to protect their lands, making plans with the enemy. 

Tamlin caught the eye of one of the Queens. A beautiful woman, with eyes that were wide set like a fawn, hair perfect and dress smooth. Her fiery eyes burned into his own with delight and something rest-assured. 

She winked, her grin softening into something confident and genuinely kind. 

Tamlin returned it with understanding in his eyes. 

They were here to protect their Courts. The same way he was. 

But as he looked back down at the Night Court, it seemed the great powerful Daemati’s had yet to catch onto that. 

Rhysand���s eyes were wide with panic, the purple shining bright like light violet, he writhed against his chains. And Feyre tried to dive a foot into the gut of the male holding her back. 

“Let her go.” Tamlin ordered again. 

Dae once again ignored him, “Back to my little experiment. As per requested by the Queens. I will show you just the amount of power we hold in the palms of our hands.”

With a snap of his fingers. The doors slammed open. 

And the room fell silent as the air was sucked, and darkness filled the world. 

Whispers of ancient evil and cruelty filled his ears, and phantom hands crawled up his skin. Invasive and touching, and filled with a power he could barely imagine. 

The whispers got louder and for a moment Tamlin made out what they said to him. 

“Son of the Lady. Son of our Lady. Son of the Blessed. Son of Dahlia. Son of Dahlia. Son of Dahlia.”

Dahlia.

Son of Dahlia. 

His mother. 

The Cauldron was placed on the floor, and the darkened liquid sloshing inside lapped at the edges of its cage. Whispering to the outside, curious and peeking around. Like fingers that traced the rim of the bowl. Beckoning. 

There was a choked gasp and Tamlin’s eyes snapped down to Feyre, she wasn’t looking at the Cauldron, or the Queens or Hybern. 

Rather she was staring down at a pendant around her neck. She held it in her hand as her eyes were wide, staring at it as it glowed with power. 

Emerald. 

He saw it in her palm, it flashed at him like metal gleaming. With power it glowed so brightly she clasped it in between her two hands, eyes shooting up, and they met his. 

Momentarily stunned, hatred was all gone, as she looked to the Cauldron, then back to the necklace. 

Two and two were quickly put together. 

The necklace was reacting to the Cauldron.

“What-” Feyre gasped out. 

Then there was raucous laughter as a snake stepped out of the shadows. 

Lady Amber stalked towards the Cauldron like it called for her. The hood of her robe fell away as she approached, looking down into the deep magic it held like it was her own. Her eyes gleamed so wickedly, and as she lifted her hand, her sleeve fell down to her elbow. 

And exposed her emerald bracelet, which glowed like a shining star in the sky, as if it was basking in the delightfully evil power of the Cauldron. Eyes gleaming in the reflection of the light, Amber turned her head up to the King of Hybern. 

“We will be unstoppable, my King.” She murmured. 

Dae grinned as he tossed a leg over the arm of his throne, lounging in all his glory, “I know, High Priestess.”

She was their High Priestess. No wonder she had such robes. 

Tamlin looked back down to the emerald clutched in Feyre’s hand, as she hid it under her shirt. 

He looked back at Amber’s emerald.

Feyre met his eyes, wide with confusion and fear. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

They needed to get out of here now. 

“Lucien-”

Lucien’s eyes widening halted Tamlin’s words as cries and screams filled the air once more. And a set of guards winnowed in, bringing all Hell with them. 

Feyre was the figure out what was happening, and the first to scream as she lunged forward. 

“Nesta! Elain!” Feyre screamed, a guttural sound that shook the room with magic. 

On the cold floor they were thrown, in just their nightgowns. The two Archeron sisters were tied, skin bruised, the eldest one had her lip cut, red and black blooming on her eye from where she had undoubtedly been punched. 

The middle one was screaming, tears freely dripping down her face. Her hands were bleeding like she had been desperately grabbing onto something to prevent them from taking her. 

No. 

Fucking hell no. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” Tamlin shouted up at Hybern. Stepping forward, wanting to rush at him. 

Lucien held him back by his wrist. 

Dae just grinned once again, “The experiment.”

“Let them go! They have no part in this!” Feyre shrieked. 

“This was not part of our deal.” Tamlin seethed. 

“No.” Amber said, hands hovering over the Cauldron, as if taking in warmth from a fire, “it was in our deal.”

Nodding, the King of Hybern grinned, “We needed a test subject for this little experiment. And these two, sisters of a Made Fae, will work perfectly.”

“You told them about my sisters!” Feyre accused, screaming as she nearly snapped her chains. Teeth and claws nearly breaking her skin, breaking through a near impenetrable force of magic around her. 

“No, no I-” 

“He didn’t.” Amber replied smoothly, eyes greedily lapping in the sight of the Cauldron, her own form of worship as she gazed upon it, “My dear little runaway daughter did.”

Runaway daughter. 

“My daughter has told me much about you, Spring Lord.”

“Release them at once!” Tamlin shouted, hands curling into fists. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of this was supposed to happen. 

Who told the King about them? Who would do this? Who would be so cruel-

“I told you not to come here, Tam.” An emotionless, static voice called. 

A full body chill descended upon his skin, every nerve on end, burned and raw. 

Please no. 

If there was anything in the world he could ask for, he would ask for this to have all been a dream. Ice flooded him as starkly as the warm anger that had curled in his gut as another walked through those large doors. 

Pale blue robes, blonde hair curling around her face. Eyes filled with nothing at all, as she walked towards the Cauldron, towards the two sisters. 

“What have you done?” Tamlin whispered. 

Ianthe stoic eyes didn’t meet his as she said, “You should have never come here.”

She told Hybern. Ianthe revealed the sister’s. 

But that meant-

“Dear daughter.” Amber crooned, as she beckoned the Priestess forth. Ianthe obeyed, her head low as she stepped up to the Cauldron, beside her mother. 

“Dear mother.” Ianthe murmured back, her voice as blank as her eyes. 

No. 

But denial was worth nothing, as Rhysand hissed, “I knew you were a viper, Ianthe. The apple never strays.”

For the first time since entering, emotion flashed in her blue eyes for a moment as she flinched at the words. 

Amber ignored Rhysand as she stepped back and grabbed her daughter by her shoulders and held Ianthe in front of her. Fingers digging into the bone until it must’ve hurt. But Ianthe just held her head high and gazed into the Cauldron. 

“Enough embellishments, let our experiment begin.” Dae declared, “The Mortal Queens wished for a show of how a human can be Made. We will give them just that.”

With a snap of his fingers, the guards grabbed Nesta and Elain pulling them to their shaking knees as they both pulled back and tried to kick away. 

Dae observed them both with cruel eyes, before ultimately saying, “Put the pretty one in first.”

Nesta screamed as Elain was dragged to the Cauldron. 

“No.”

She was lifted up, her head thrown back as she cried out. Heels slamming into the lip of the Cauldron, like she might shove off, like she might tip it over and run. 

A burst of unadulterated magic struck him and Tamlin rushed forward. To Dae. To the Throne. 

Claws and teeth and everything vicious and snarling. Tamlin lunged forward, but something burning and too bright grabbed him and reigned him back. Gagging him and pulling his clawed hands away from Dae’s face. 

Tamlin snarled and Hybern laughed. 

Gasps echoed from behind him, and Tamlin’s eyes widened by a fraction as he realised, Lucien was no longer in front of him to hide the evidence of the baby. 

Hybern mouthed, ‘You will regret this.’

A shout of terror and anger vibrated in his bones as Lucien writhed against his own restraints, held back after trying to dive after Tamlin, and the girl being thrown into the Cauldron. 

Nothing could be done. Even as Feyre screamed so loud the Palace nearly shook, Elain was thrown in. 

The emerald on Amber’s wrist glowed as her smile widened. 

And the world shook. 

Everything quivered. 

Like a shaking breath of pleasure, the ground, sky and wind melted into the point of the Cauldron, as Elain was boiled alive. 

It was barely a second long. 

Her hands broke the surface of the Cauldron and she grabbed the edge. Head breaking up for air, she gasped, and as she took a new breath, reborn, remade. The Earth quivered again. 

Her long brown hair stuck to her back, neck and shoulders. Pushed up by her hands, nightgown soaked and sticking to her skin, revealing every part of her frame. 

And Ianthe at the Cauldron, her stoic mask was burned away as she began to shake. Breath stolen from her lungs as her blue eyes shone like sapphires. 

Elain’s hands slipped and she nearly fell back into the dark waters. 

But Ianthe’s hands were faster. Nearly shoving away from her mother, she lunged forward, grabbing the creature that had once been the human Elain. And pulling her out, to the ground. Soaking her robes with water that was both holy and sinful. 

“Ianthe!” Amber shouted. But Ianthe ignored her as she gently laid the shivering Elain in her lap as she kneeled on the floor. 

Still the same eyes and sweet face, but her limbs were longer now, skin healthier, glowing. A golden light was pouring from her chest and the tips of her fingers. Haloing her head. 

Ianthe was panting, breaths becoming shallower and shallower as stared down at the newly Made Fae. 

“Ianthe, get back over here.” Amber seethed. 

“Mate.” Ianthe gasped out. 

The world exploded. 

Nesta screamed as she lunged forward and tore Elain away from the Priestess, shoving Ianthe to the ground. 

Amber shrieked something. Face burning red from anger, hands shaking, she snapped forward. Ianthe tried to scramble back, but her mother grabbed her, pulling her hood, her head covering off of her blonde hair. Ianthe screamed as she cried, trying to pull the hood back over her head. 

Amber pulled Ianthe’s face to her own as she screamed curses in the name of the Mother in her face. Curses of breaking her vows, and Ianthe sobbed, heavy wet tears falling down her face. 

“Enough!” Hybern’s voice echoed through the room, Amber looked back up to the King of Hybern, who nodded to her. Amber gritted her teeth and threw her daughter to the floor and quickly covered her head again as she cried and whispered prayers to the Mother. Apologies and begging for some kind of mercy. 

Tamlin writhed against his chains. Pulling and pulling. Elain sobbed into Nesta’s chest, but the guards pulled her away, as they grabbed Nesta and forced her to her feet. Nesta screamed bloody murder as she was dragged to the Cauldron. 

“No, No!” Feyre cried as she too was helpless but to watch her eldest sister be picked up and brought to the surface of the burning ice of the Cauldron. 

But as she was plunged under, Nesta twisted her body and turned to Hybern. 

As her skin was burned going under, the flaming water eating away at her skin and bones, turning her into something else. She lifted a hand. 

Her eyes flashed. 

Target locked. 

Promise marked. 

Nesta Archeron pointed to the King of Hybern, and Dae, Dae with all the power in his hands, flinched as his eyes widened and his skin paled. 

And the once human girl went under. 

If the world quivered in pleasure at Elain’s death and rebirth, it roared with anger at Nesta’s. 

The air turned stiff and everyone began to gasp for air like it had been taken away. The ground under them shook and the stone floors screeched as it cracked. 

Outside thunder split the sky. Causing the world to divulge into a show of rage and hurt, as the Cauldron cried out like it was being torn apart. 

And finally, after too long and barely a second later at the same time, two hands broke the surface and Nesta tried to shove out of the Cauldron. Dark water dripped down her face, as she grabbed the rim of the bowl, she lifted her eyes. 

Silver danced in them like flames of molten steel. 

The whole room went wholly still. 

She gasped and gagged, tears of anger and pain streaming down her face. She hauled a leg over the Cauldron, but as if something were pulling her back in, she slipped back. 

In a sudden burst of light and energy, Lucien rushed to the Cauldron, free of his restraints. 

However, he wasn’t faster than Elain, who scraped her knees, blooding herself further as she leapt up and grabbed her eldest sister’s hand. Dragging her to the floor. Nesta fell in a boneless heap in her sister’s arms. 

Lucien, reaching them just a second later, didn’t waste time as he shrugged off his coat and draped it over the two sisters. Nesta snarled up at him, but out of energy she couldn’t force him away. Elain accepted the warm, dry clothing with little more than a piercing glare. 

Made. Pointed ears pushed past their long locks of hair. Skin glowing with power that wasn’t previously there. Fae, through and through, with nothing human left to them. 

Dae cleared his throat, cutting through the power and magic writhing in the air. He addressed the Queens, “Now you see what the Cauldron can do, the power it holds. Creation itself is in our hands.”

Creation itself. 

Twisting his head, Tamlin looked towards Feyre. 

Her eyes were wet with tears, and her eyes kept darting between everyone. Like she didn’t know what to think about first. 

They were so utterly fucked. 

Feyre didn’t know what to do. 

At first it had been going just as planned. 

Then she had turned her back on the Cauldron and laid eyes on one she had only ever seen as an eye ring on Amarantha’s finger. Jurian had smirked at them as guards descended on them. 

Brought kicking and screaming to the throne room she had at first been set on rushing at the King herself. As she watched Cassian and Azriel struggle against their restraints. As Morrigan was tied up and Rhysand was chained, she pulled her power to the surface and prepared to rush him. 

Then her eyes fell to two standing by the throne. Tamlin mostly hidden behind Lucien, who was watching with blank eyes. All anger had consumed her in that moment, as she remembered being trapped behind those doors, locked in that house. She screamed and wanted for blood to spill. 

Then those mortal Queens, betraying them and looking down at Azriel and Cassian like dogs. Feyre wanted to kill them too. 

Then her sisters, tossed into the Cauldron and remade. Because Ianthe, someone she had considered a friend, had given them away. Had willingly handed them over to Hybern. 

Ianthe’s own words came back to her, “Just know not to take the word of Faeries at face value." She had told her. Almost like she was warning her. 

Or perhaps taunting her, Feyre thought, since she ended up betraying her. 

But then Ianthe had pulled Elain into her lap, and whispered that dreadful word. 

Mate. 

Feyre had wanted to scream and shout, but froze. Nesta reacted the quickest, shoving Ianthe away from Elain. 

Then that High Priestess of Hybern, Ianthe’s mother, had screamed in the Priestess of Spring’s face. 

Ianthe still was on the floor, her mother hovering over her. Watching her every move. 

And Feyre found herself clutching the emerald necklace now hidden underneath her shirt. 

It glowed with the power of the Cauldron. And when she looked at Ianthe's mother’s wrist, a bracelet of pure emerald glowed under her robes. 

What else had Ianthe told her that day? When she gave her necklace? The day she had cried out in her mind for someone to take her away from that wedding? 

"Take it, Cursebreaker." As she let it hang from Feyre's neck she murmured, "You may need it."

"Need it?" Feyre whispered. 

Ianthe just smiled, "Trust me."

"You said yourself not to take the words of Fae at face value." Feyre countered. 

"I did." She stated. 

Before Feyre could once again point out the blatant hypocrisy, Ianthe said, "Try to see past the person, Feyre. Try and see what may lay underneath."

Try and see what may lay underneath… 

What lays underneath, what lays underneath, what lays underneath?

Now Nesta, Made Fae and stripped of her human skin, clutched Elain. Whilst the middle Archeron sister pulled her in protectively, anger and pure fear twisting in her face as she helped to shield the eldest. 

Feyre clutched the necklace tighter, part of her wanted to rip it off for the deceit of Ianthe, the other made her keep it on. 

One of the Mortal Queens, those traitors, stepped forward and away from the rest. She was the eldest of the group, her darkened eyes swept over Nesta and Elain before turning back to Hybern, “We see that you have such great power, Fae King. With this confirmation, my sisters and I ask we go through to the next phase.”

Hybern smiled coldly, “Then let us proceed.”

Proceed. 

As the Queen smiled, the others encircled the Cauldron. 

Hybern caught Feyre’s widened, confused eyes. As the Inner Circle around her were strapped with chains and gagged with cloth. Morrigan fought them away as best she could, but the blonde was exhausted and easily restrained. 

“I see you are confused, Archeron. Allow me to explain.” He grinned, “The Mortal Queens will be vessels for the Cauldron’s magic, and with them we will spread power throughout the entirety of the Realm, taking full control of this world and all its inhabitants.”

Full control. 

Feyre snapped her eyes to Rhysand, whose entire face had gone completely pale. That rope around his neck choked him as it was pulled. Spine bending, his back arching as his whole body trembled. A half-muffled cry of pain tearing from his throat. 

Then her eyes tore to Tamlin, gagged and bound. Green dress singed where the ropes burned over his clothes. And when her eyes fell to his middle. 

Like alarm bells were blazing in her ears. Fae senses all sharp on and on edge. Instincts in buried deep down in her core fought to the surface. Forcing her to crawl forward, towards him, as if if she laid hands on his skin this would be undone. 

Her mind was screaming it, a voice that wasn’t her own told her what it was. 

Pregnancy, a baby, her child. 

Her baby. 

Shit. 

Feyre rushed to her feet on fiery legs, her muscles contracting and burning. She rushed for the throne, claws shooting through her fingertips. She would rip Hybern’s throat out, she would kill them all, she would undo all of this. 

She screamed as the chains around her limbs dragged her to the ground, the noise that left her throat was half feral animal. Every one of the Inner Circle swivelled their heads to her. Their eyes wide, fearful and confused. 

She met them with a look of anger and pain. It coursed through her skin, making her fill with light from another power that was not naturally her own. Skin glowing, hands smoking with fire and the whole world so sharp and clearer than ever, a sob was torn from her. Making her whole body shake. 

Shit. 

Then a scream echoed through the castle. And smoke filled the throne room. 

When Feyre looked towards the Cauldron, she saw black, ashy smoke that rolled out in waves, rippling over the stone. 

And the Priestess wearing black robes, who had called herself Ianthe’s mother, was bent over the side of the Cauldron. Her face completely submerged, burning and bubbling off. 

Ianthe stood behind her. Eyes wide and full of terror and rage. Feyre nearly flinched as she witnessed the Priestess of Spring with her hand forcing her mother’s face into the Cauldron  as she screamed and screamed, even under the water. 

“Release her!” Hybern’s voice bellowed through the room. 

Ianthe did not listen. As fire flamed in her eyes she screamed for all to hear, “This is what you deserve, you fucking witch!”

In a second, everything turned. 

As soon as Ianthe’s declaration left her throat, her mother twisted up. Her hand grabbing onto Ianthe’s robes and tried to force her down into the Cauldron. 

“Ianthe!” Feyre screamed. 

The Priestess tried to kick and fight back as her mother came back up from the Cauldron. 

Oh Gods. 

Her face, fairer than before, eyes pools of blazing fire. Hair dripping and soaked, light that spilled down her shoulders. Like the sun had come down from the sky and walked as a person. Blinding and beautiful. And so, so angry. 

Her mother screamed something incoherent as she pushed her daughter to the lip of the Cauldron. 

“The emerald!” Ianthe screamed as she grabbed onto the lip of the bowl. Nails tearing away, fingers pouring blood as her mother tried to shove her in. 

Hybern shot up from his throne and gaurds rushed to the Cauldron. 

The emerald. 

It burned a hole through her shirt, and marked her chest as it filled with undiluted power. 

Feyre grabbed onto the emerald even as it singed her palm, burning her flesh until it was scorching and smoking. 

With no idea what it did or how to use it, Feyre did the first thing that came to her mind. 

She brought up every drop of power she had writhing in her, screaming for release. Screwing her eyes shut so she only saw black. She imagined the seven orbs of magic, sitting deep in her belly. Waiting for their chance to rise. She imagined each Court. With their magic, their skies, their sights, their feels. Even the wind was different for each. 

She felt the emerald grow hotter and hotter and hotter until her bone was exposed and turning black from heat. The pain was nothing compared to the magic clawing its way out of her body. 

Winds that surrounded her, each different, some harsher, some hotter, some softer, some colder. Feyre didn’t know where her body began or ended as power collapsed in on her, and the emerald became her only anchor to the world around her. 

Screaming erupted in the throne room and Feyre opened her eyes. 

She saw light, golden beautiful light, it shone in her eyes and hair and skin. She met the face of Ianthe and her mother. 

Ianthe grinned so wildly as her mother plunged her into the Cauldron. 

Feyre screamed and the world shattered. 

The Mortal Queens drew swords from the pockets between worlds. The eldest tossing off her heeled shoes and diving at the guards holding back Rhysand. 

She cut them down in one fell swoop, heads rolling to the ground, and the High lord of the Night Court was free. 

Feyre didn’t feel the ground beneath her feet, and when she looked down, she saw that she hovered above it. Power writhed around her like threads of light and fire. The colours shifted from green, to purple, to white, to black, to blue, to every colour she had ever seen and more. 

With her hand clutching the emerald, she felt it, sucking the energy around it. 

She gave and gave and gave her magic until the emerald had all of it. A stone of magic and power. Until it was no longer recognizable as an emerald, until it was just a pool of pure magic. 

Falling to the floor, her knees cracked against the stone, she pulled it close to her heart as all magic left her. 

Her breaths were slowing, her power was gone, her ears were rounded now, instead of pointed. And she felt the undoing of the healing work, as her neck felt more and more fragile, the bone chipping away. 

Not much time left. 

Ianthe’s mother left the Cauldron’s side as she rushed for Feyre, running with her hands out, trying to get the emerald from Feyre’s hands. 

In one final burst of strength Feyre got to her feet and threw Ianthe’s mother to the floor. Then ran for the Cauldron. 

Her feet gave out under her. 

Sprawling across the floor, Feyre saw through darkened eyes, the emerald rolling from her hand out across the floor. 

Then Ianthe’s mother laughing as she stood over Feyre. 

“Off with your head.” She crooned, as her foot came down and snapped her neck. 

 Tamlin didn’t think he would be able to break free of the restraints that were holding him down. 

Then he heard the sound of bone under foot. And he saw her again, red hair, and laughing cruel eyes. Hands on his bare skin. And then hands on her skin, her power holding her up as she snapped her neck. 

In a burst of immense power that washed through his veins. Forcing to the surface. Roots that shot up from the ground. The ropes turned to nothing around him, bursting into light and warmth. 

And Tamlin launched at Amber. Her head tilted back as she laughed and reached for the emerald. 

But never got to it as Tamlin pulled her down to the ground. 

She screamed as her arm reeled back and hand closed into a fist, connecting with his jaw. He cried out in pain, but grabbed onto her hand and yanked hard enough that a handful of blonde curls were ripped out. She screamed, pulled her hand back again and her punch landed in his belly this time. 

Tamlin screamed, as she laughed and pulled her hand back again

Amber shrieked as fire split across her side and she was thrown across the room. 

Lucien screamed his name and ran to his side. 

He couldn’t feel much, that punch sent fire up his jaw, he tasted blood in his mouth, but nothing was compared to the terror seizing up his every movement as pain twisted and pounded in his belly. A sob was ripped from his throat. Big, wet tears shedding down his face, but he forced himself up. 

Lucien grabbed and held him back. But Tamlin laid eyes on the glowing emerald, and the chaos around it. 

The mortal Queens were fighting the soldiers with all the strength they had. Swinging their swords and meeting the soldiers for every strike. But being human, they were losing the fights. 

The Illyrian warriors and the blonde female were grappling with their captors. And Rhysand ran for Feyre. Arms reaching out, screaming as he tried to grab her. 

Then a guard reefed him back, shoving faebane down his throat. And forcing him to be tied once more. 

They were losing. Badly. 

And through all the chaos, the swords clashing and the screaming. Tamlin heard footsteps. Footsteps that reverberated through the room and through his bones. 

When he looked up, Dae stared down with a grin. Reaching down he took the emerald in his hands. Filled with the power of seven High lords. Glowing like a fallen star spilling its light across land. 

“Well look at this.” Dae said as he looked into his palm, at the star of power shining up at him. 

“I do wonder just what we could do with this.” His grin widened as his head filled with all the power he now held right in the centre of his palm. 

“Nothing!”  A voice screamed. 

The world rumbled, shaking with the power that shuddered through it. 

Everyone ceased their movements as the earth seemed to come to a blinding stop. 

Looking to the Cauldron, there she stood. On shaking legs, as unstable as a just born foal. Soaked to the bone, her hair stuck to the sides of her face. Eyes blazing with anger and courage. 

Nesta Archeron clung to her limp sister. Her broken neck unable to hold up her head. Her formerly strong body, now unmoving and dead. 

“You will be nothing.” Nesta breathed, voice a puff of frost in a frozen land. 

Dae stared at her with wide eyes. Unable to anticipate what the middle Archeorn sister was doing. 

Elain appeared from seemingly nowhere, as if travelling in between worlds. As if winnowing, but in a way that was slightly different, unlike appearing from one place to another, but as if running between the worlds, travelling on air. 

She snatched the emerald from Dae’s hand, and as he shouted and went to grab it. Elain tossed the emerald into the Cauldron. At the same time, Nesta pushed in Feyre. 

Coming back to life was a different experience than before. 

Her skin burned and burned and burned. Back arching, each muscle on fire. Flames spread over her skin like never before. Singed like the hairs of a feather. Fire and icy water delving into her body. Ripped apart and put together again like a deconstructable doll.

She wanted to scream, open her mouth and throat and scream for all her life. But as her lips parted her throat filled with water and she choked. Drowning, as her lungs filled with it. The fiery liquid burning and freezing her all at once. In a panicking haze she fought to get somewhere. Anywhere, just out of the water, but there was nowhere to go. 

She wasn’t in open air, instead underwater, deep in a void of darkness that was never-ending. As if she was in deep ocean. Opening her eyes, she looked down and saw black. Around her was just black, above her was all black. All of it was black. 

Black, black, black. 

She was dead, she had to be dead. She was in some kind of eternal punishment. This was the Hell she had been warned about. Oh dear Gods. 

Her body went limp as her eyes closed once more. Unable to breathe, unable to think as she fell deeper into the darkness. Feeling cold seeping in like never before

Then something grabbed her.

A hand held onto her arm, keeping her connected to whatever was with her here. Her eyes shot open again, as her body fought for life, as something, that thing holding onto her, just being there wouldn’t let her die. 

Darkness, it was all darkness, until it wasn’t. 

Until something filled with light dropped down with them, like a drop of sunlight falling into the sea. 

As it fell down to them, Feyre saw her. 

Blonde hair floating around her face in the water. Eyes of bright blue. Skin pale and covered by pale robes. 

Before it could fall past them, Feyre took hold of the drop of light, holding it in her palm as she stared at Ianthe. 

And as that emerald sat in her hand, a warmth spread over her skin. Making her come alight. Her very blood began to glow with its magic, making every line, every vein underneath her skin light up with it. 

The water was gone from her lungs, and air was no longer needed. Her body completely sustained on power. 

Not dead. 

They weren’t dead. 

Looking down at the drop of light in her hand. 

It was the emerald. 

Soft fingers touched her mental wards. Feyre quickly opened them, and a soft voice spoke into the space between them, ‘Feyre.’

‘Ianthe.’

They stared at each other through the water, shimmering reflections connected their hands, holding onto each other like they might slip back into darkness at any moment. 

‘They’re out there still.’ Ianthe said, ‘We need to use the emerald.’

‘How? It has all of my power now. How do we use it?’

Ianthe grinned as she covered Feyre’s hands with her own, closing the emerald in. 

‘Breathe in, and command it.’

The Cauldron was bubbling over. Water splashing over the lip, hissing angrily as it hit the floor. Black flames licked up over the water. It boiled over as the world started shaking. Parts of the roof falling. 

Time to get out of here. 

Tamlin was still unconscious. Blood dripping from his mouth, a bruise swelling on his face. Lucien picked him up and stood off the floor, being as careful as he could. Pulling him into his arms even as Lucien himself still knelt on the floor. 

He took a hit to the stomach, panic swelled in Lucien’s chest as he thought of what could have happened. 

Gods please just make sure he’s okay. 

Where to run? 

The world around them was swirling shadow and fire and smoke. There was no way out. No one could get out now. They were in the middle of a losing fight, a circle of bloodshed and killing around them, as guards shouted, the Queens cried out, and the Night Court spun with their steel and hands. 

And Hybern ran for the Cauldron. The King looked over the edge, going past the bubbling and the black fire spreading. Looking in, trying to find that emerald of light. 

Elain had fallen to her knees and crawled to her shaking sister, who even with her eyes of steel could not hide her horror at the sights around her. 

Lucien pulled Tamlin closer to his chest, and pulled fire from his core as his eyes lit up. 

And his own flames burst through the room. 

Two guards screamed as their body was reduced to ashes. Around them, Lucien formed a circle of impenetrable flames, and did the same for Elain and Nesta. Elain whom had pulled Lucien’s coat from the floor and covered her sister with it. Her doe brown eyes jumped up to him, Lucien nodded to her and Elain returned the gesture with an almost smile, an almost thank you. 

Almost because she couldn’t be anymore thankful to him than she was to the people who had put her in the Cauldron. But Lucien didn’t blame her for that. 

“Feyre.” A voice croaked from below him, Lucien looked down at Tamlin whose eyes slowly blinked open. He coughed and more blood dripped down his chin, “Feyre… Cauldron-”

“Tam we have to focus on getting out alive.” Lucien told him as he lifted his hand and aimed a blast of fire at a guard who threw one of the Queens to the floor and lifted his sword to her. He fell to the ground a pile of bubbling flesh. Lucien heard retching noises and when he glanced over he saw Elain finally keeling over as she vomited at the sight. 

He felt bad for the girl, but had no time to stew over her as Tamlin quickly reefed away from his arms. 

“Tamlin-!” Lucien panicked, hands going out to grab him and pull him back. 

Tamlin shoved his arms back with an apologetic look before forcing himself up on shaking legs. Lucien got up and went to follow him but slammed into a ward. He cried out as he winced, but it was quickly replaced by terror as he realised Tamlin had warded him back. 

‘I’m sorry.’ Tamlin mouthed, before he ran for Amber’s body on the floor. 

He knew what he had to do. 

If only to get everyone out alive. 

Those emeralds, they could absorb power. 

Those words Amber had hissed to him in that hallway. 

She laughed, “Emeralds hold much power from my family. Ours are enchanted, my dear.”

Enchanted. 

Tamlin had been wondering with what, and he finally figured it out. 

They could absorb power from others and give that magic to whoever wore them. And Amber had been going to use her emerald to absorb the power of the Cauldron. 

The emerald that had been around Feyre’s neck had absorbed the magic that had been keeping her alive, leaving her dead and mortal again. If unleashed, that magic was the equivalent to the most powerful Fae in known history. 

What magic did Amber have stored? 

Even as Lucien screamed from behind that ward. Tamlin didn’t turn back, but felt as Lucien gave up trying to run and instead focussed his energy on blazing their enemies. Guilt writhed in his core, but he needed to do this and Lucien would try to hold him back. 

A guard came out of nowhere and tried to pin him down with his sword. But even if Tamlin was near collapsing he wasn’t a High lord for nothing. Claws shot through his skin almost unannounced and it was nothing to slash his throat and leave him choking on his own blood on the floor. 

Tamlin passed the haze of smoke and blood and fire. And finally made it to the darkened corner where Amber was limp on the floor, her breaths shallow but still there, not dead yet. But her face different from the rest of her body, shining faintly, gleaming in the light, as Tamlin put a hand on her forehead, he felt how cold her skin truly was. 

Gold. 

Her skin had turned to gold. 

The Cauldron it seemed, had done a number on her. 

Tamlin gave no hesitation as his hands went to her wrist, pulling up her sleeve he saw the emerald bracelet. 

Yes. 

He went to pull it off, but as he tried to tug it over her hand, her arm shot up. 

“Insolent fool.” Amber hissed as she launched up and grabbed his hair, shoving his head to the ground, forehead bashing into the cold stone. 

The world went dark for a moment, then he was thrown back into it as she pulled his head back up and went to smash him down again. This time he moved, running on adrenaline and fear. 

Twisting back, Tamlin grabbed her robes, then sharply kicked her in the stomach. Amber cried out, but was not quick enough to react as Tamlin sunk his teeth into her throat, ripping with sharpened canines, blood pooled in his mouth and she screamed death in his ear. 

“Fuck. You. Witch!” She might as well have been one. 

Amber spluttered, vomiting blood, every inch of him burned to finish the job, but as the Cauldron bubbled over once more, spilling more ancient water to the ground, causing more black fire to scorch the ground. He knew he didn’t have much more time. 

Grabbing her wrist, it was nothing to snap it. Causing her body to convulse with pain, he let her fall to the ground as he ripped the bracelet off and forced himself back to his feet. 

The world faded in and out, Tamlin nearly tripped and fell. He was losing energy quickly. In no time at all he would pass out, and the High lord genuinely didn’t know if he would wake up again. 

The closer he got to the Cauldron the more the emerald started to glow, and burn. As it burned into his hands, the pain throbbed through his arms and the added injury ca

used him to nearly lose footing again, it was a miracle he hadn’t fallen again already. 

Everything was burning hotter and hotter, the air was suffocating, he could barely see as the room was now little more than black smoke. Another gust of unnatural wind caused by the power of the Cauldron and Tamlin could no longer see. 

He coughed and spluttered, but still ran forward, knowing it was somewhere in front of him. 

Feeling splashing underfoot, the water that touched his skin burning marks that would scar forever, he knew he was almost there. 

Almost there, almost there, almost there-

“There you are, my love.” A cruel male voice hissed as he was grabbed and torn away from the Cauldron. 

“No!” Tamlin screamed as he kicked and bucked and thrashed, desperately holding onto the emerald bracelet like a lifeline in a storm. 

Dae laughed in his ear as he pulled him back, “I may not have the cursebreakers power, but I will make do with yours.” 

Screaming, Dae grabbed the bracelet from his hand and put it to his chest. Whispering something like a spell, a curse or maybe an enchantment, the emerald began to glow, and Tamlin felt himself get weaker and weaker, as the emerald sucked away his magic. 

Not now, not when he was so close. They were on the brink of losing or winning. 

Losing he realised, they were losing. 

Done for. 

He went limp as his eyes started to close. 

Dae pressed his lips to Tamlin’s ear, cold words seeping into his skin, into his bones, as if they were etched there with a knife, “Did you really think you could outsmart me, Tamlin? Did you think you could win?”

A cruel laugh, “You will see what we do to traitors around here, even if they’re dead.”

The world turned cold once more and Tamlin felt himself slipping in and out of reality, as everything became less and less corporeal. 

Dying. 

So this was dying. 

Why did it have to be so inviting? So loving and tender? 

“Please.” He whispered. 

Someone. 

Anyone. 

As he closed his eyes for the final time. Tamlin felt the breath leave his lungs-

“Keep your hands off my mate!” 

The black smoke was forced back by magic of another. And there he stood. 

Free of the ward which had fallen away as Tamlin’s power was drained. Hands blazing with fire and eyes melted into pools of burning, burning light. Lucien looked like flame personified. 

Dae shouted something to his guards, but no one could react quick enough as a blast of fire was shot out at Hybern. 

Dae lifted a hand and a ward blocked the attack with ease. He tilted his head back as he laughed in Lucien’s face, “What was that fire lord? At least give me something harder to fight against.”

“He was just the distraction, bitch King.” A delighted voice hissed, before a knife sunk into Dae’s side. 

The King screamed as Nesta Archeron stabbed him. Blood poured from his side, but as he raised his hands to grab her neck, he dropped Tamlin to the floor. 

It was no matter as Tamlin sprawled, weak and near powerless, against the stone, as he still held the emerald. 

Nesta choked as she ripped out the knife, Dae lifted her above the floor with a single hand as she grasped his wrist with both hands, face beginning to turn pink from lack of air. 

“Stupid, stupid girl.” He said, as he raised the emerald, it glowed with power as he pressed it to her body, “I wonder what power you took from the Cauldron.”

The knife dropped to the floor, and Tamlin looked up to meet Nesta’s eyes. 

Smart, smart girl. 

Tamlin grabbed the knife, and in a swift motion stabbed it into Dae’s back.

The High lord barely heard his cry, just watched as his body seized up and released Nesta along with the emerald on instinct. 

Even as Dae swung around and grabbed Tamlin, it didn’t matter, because Nesta grabbed the emerald. And threw it through the air. 

Dae shouted as  he watched the scene unfold, letting Tamlin drop back to the floor and this time he remained there, content with what he had done as he saw what the sisters did. 

Elain caught the glowing emerald with a single hand and ran for the Cauldron. Even as Dae bolted after her, he was not near quick enough for Elain, who seemed to disappear behind shimmering air and then reappear by the Cauldron, still running. 

As the Cauldron seemed to cry with overflowing magic, Elain held the bracelet over it. Her hands visibly began to burn and blister with the intense heat, but she didn’t back down, didn’t flinch, not even as the burning spread over her arms. 

The Cauldron splashed one more time. 

And a hand shot up out of it. A pale hand with tattoos covered it, an eye drawn into the centre of her palm. Feyre seized the emerald bracelet as she grabbed the edge of the Cauldron and hauled herself up. 

And holding onto her as she was pulled up as well, was Ianthe. Drenched and shivering, but clutching the glowing emerald necklace that Feyre had once had around her neck, to her chest. 

The world faded in and out again. 

Then hands were on him and Tamlin flinched, but when he looked up, he relaxed. Dark brown eyes bore into his own, red hair falling around them. Lucien’s eyes were flicking all over him. Assessing each part of his body, pulling Tamlin into his arms. 

“Hold on.” Lucien begged, “Please hold on, we can win.”

Tamlin smiled weakly at Lucien, as his eyes fell closed. 

“I love you.” Tamlin whispered, as all started to drown out. 

The last he heard was a petrified scream from his mate as he descended into darkness. 

As her hand closed around that bracelet, Feyre felt power flood her veins. Power that was not hers but hers to use so long as the emerald was in her hands. And with Ianthe touching her, Feyre’s emerald in her hands. They were a combined magic. For a moment in time, whilst still in the Cauldron, they were the magic of the Cauldron. 

Eyes blazing and bodies alight with magic, Feyre lifted her hand and closed her eyes. 

Black, she pulled out the power. Commanding it. Breathe in. She told it to obey. 

With the help of the emeralds magic, the power it had sucked it, like a breath held in still lungs, it all blended and merged together. No longer chaotic and refusing to work with each other. Rather it moved like water commanded by the Summer Court magic. Flowing and controlled. 

Feyre grinned with bone white teeth as she lifted a clawed hand, and squeezed her fingers into a fist. 

“Let all Hell break loose.” She whispered. 

And break loose it did. 

The soldiers screamed as they were burned with black fire. Their bodies dissolving into ash. Even as the Mortal Queens seemed horrified at the blinding figures emerging from the Cauldron, they ran to continue their killing sweep. Finishing off the last of the soldiers. 

Then Feyre turned her attention to Hybern, who lifted his head and grinned. Even as he stumbled to one knee, clutching the wound at his side, as his shirt darkened with blood. 

Try me, was what that grin said to her. 

Feyre gritted her teeth. Twisting her hand as she forced the magic to move with her. The world around her darkening. The room filling, as light exploded from her form. Like a star in  blackened night, she was the magic she commanded. 

But as magic was forced onto the King of Hybern, she felt it… start to disappear, rather than make contact with the target. 

Oh. 

Fuck. 

Hybern grinned as he lifted a large emerald amulet, a wall of protecting, keeping his body safe from the attack but absorbing the power. 

“No.” Ianthe shook from beside her. 

He had an emerald. 

“No!” Ianthe screamed, she shoved Feyre out of the Cauldron and fell out with her. Stopping the onslaught of magic so he would gain no more. 

Sprawled against the stone cold floors, Feyre coughed and spluttered. Feeling herself weakening as the power she had been controlling calmed again. 

Now out of the Cauldron, it stopped its bubbling and settled down. 

The smoke still drifted around the room, but now it was silent. As the guard had been killed, and there was no one left to fight. 

Stepping out from the haze of black smoke, Hybern grinned at her, his wounds healing over from the magic she had just handed to him on a silver platter. 

“You should have stayed in the Cauldron, little girl.” He grinned as he lifted the amulet, it glowed with power and reflected in his cold, cruel eyes. 

His hand buried in her hair and forced her neck back, as he placed the emerald on her skin, leaving a branding mark, “Let’s see what power we can steal from you.”

Feyre screamed and writhed as once again she felt power torn from deep within her flesh, the very bindings keeping her together. 

But unlike last time, Hybern was cut short. 

As someone from behind him screamed, “Don’t you dare ever touch my sister!”

And Elain tackled Hybern to the floor, releasing Feyre from the grip of the emerald. 

Elain’s small, untrained body was no match for the King but she fought valiantly anyway. With a scream, she kicked and punched, but not before her hands grabbed the amulet and ripped it free of his grasp. She tossed it to Feyre, and shouted “Run!”

“But-” Big, heavy tears fell down her face as Feyre watched her older sister fight. 

“Run Feyre! Get out!” Elain cried as Hybern grabbed her hair and slammed her into the floor. 

Feyre didn’t run. 

But Ianthe did. She grabbed Feyre by her collar, and in what must have been adrenaline filled strength, dragged her up and forced her to run. 

The smoke began to clear. And Feyre finally saw the true extent of the damage. 

Rhysand was on the floor, her eyes went to him first. Shaking and gritting his teeth, coughing up blood as he tried to stand on two feet. She screamed when she looked closer as she barrelled forward, and saw that one wing had been completely torn off. 

Feyre fell to his side but as she cried, “Rhys-”

He shook his hand and grabbed her arm forcing her to look to the middle of the throne room. 

“Not me.” He croaked out, “Get him first.”

“Get who-” Feyre cut herself off with a gasp. 

She saw them. She saw them and her chest caved in. 

Tamlin lying limp across the floor, his body not moving, his chest not rising or falling. And Lucien hunched over his form, crying and pleading into his neck to come back. 

“No.” Feyre whispered. 

“Everyone evacuate!” The eldest of the Mortal Queens screamed. 

At that same moment, Hybern was bolting for Feyre, eyes blazing with rage. And Elain a bloodied form on the floor behind him, whimpering with pain and just barely holding on. 

Ianthe laid eyes on her. And she screamed a scream so agony filled that Feyre could have sworn the room shook. 

Abandoning everything else. Ianthe shot Feyre one last look, full of apologies unspoken, before she ran for Elain. Falling to her knees by her side. 

Hybern ignored the weeping Priestess as he headed for Feyre, “You think you can get away.”

“Oh I think she can.” Rhysand croaked out. 

The King’s eyes went wide as a rage-filled grin split his face, “No she won’t.”

“Yes, she will.” A new voice echoed through the room. One like fire and wind. Bursting through and adding a whole new level of danger. 

Eris grinned from the doorways, “Hope I’m not too late to the party.”

“Just in time.” Rhysand smirked. 

Hybern laid eyes on the Autumn Heir and snarled, “I suggest running now, Autumn bitch.”

“Great fun, Hybern, just like your General was.” Eris drawled as he drew up fire to his hands. Preparing to launch his own attack. 

Hybern grinned, “Let's see what the pretty Autumn boy can do then.”

Eris’s eyes were seething when he lifted his hand and fire descended on Hybern. 

Shit.

Everything ached, but she had no time to focus in on it. Not as the room was screaming once more, not as they were being thrown into battle again. Elain couldn’t see well at all. Black edging in and out of her vision, she thought she might collapse at any second. 

But slowly, very slowly, she felt the pain of her body disappearing and when she forced her eyes to open properly. She saw her. 

And her chest tightened until her lungs couldn’t open or close. 

The Priestess, Ianthe they had called her, was kneeling over her. The emerald that had been on Feyre’s neck being pressed into Elain’s chest by her hands, she was whispering a prayer of some kind, forcing the power residing in the stone to heal her. 

Elain finally breathed in deep enough that she could move again. 

A sob tore through Ianthe’s chest as relief flooded her. 

“You’re alive.” Ianthe whispered. 

“We won’t be for long.” Elain whispered back as she pointed to the fire show going on before them. 

A Fae with short red hair and burning eyes, that looked similar to the red-headed male they had called Lucien, was summoning fire down on the King of Hybern. But nothing could harm him, as Ianthe’s mother, the older Priestess, had quickly rushed in front of him and held up her hands. 

Whatever power she had been given from the Cauldron when her head had been under, it allowed her to create a ward strong enough to withstand the onslaught of fire from the Autumn male. But forced them to remain standing still so the others around them could rush out of the throne room. 

Elain watched as Feyre met her eyes. Elain nodded and Feyre mouthed ‘I’m sorry’.

Before helping to pick up her mate and run from the throne room. Followed by the two winged warriors and the blonde woman. 

Leaving the last of those there. 

“We need to get them out of here.” Ianthe said, pointing to the middle of the throne room. 

Dead. 

She was dead. The fair fae, who had been called Tamlin, was dead in the arms of Lucien. Her blonde hair matted with blood, her dress torn and ruined. Elain gasped at the sight of her swollen womb, the child inside it either dead or dying. 

And Lucien wracked with grief, his power and energy drained, was collapsed over her. Begging and praying for a miracle. 

They needed to get out.

From across the room, Elain saw another lump of fallen flesh. Nesta coughed and vomited, before forcing herself to her knees, surveying the damage with wide eyes. 

Then she looked to Elain. And Elain shuddered at what she saw. 

Her sister’s grey eyes, now burning, burning silver. 

Nesta looked back at Hybern, and the male forcing fire on them. Starting to weaken. 

They had to act right now. 

“Go!” Elain shouted. 

“But-” Nesta started, moving to go towards Elain. 

Elain tried to get to her feet but she fell again. Dizzy and unable to stand up properly, the feeling of her body having been through so much, the emeralds could only undo so much damage. 

Ianthe was the one to make the decision, as she tossed Nesta the emerald and screamed, “Go!”

Nesta, for the first time, sobbed, wet tears falling down her face. But she nodded and ran. 

But not for the doors. 

For Lucien and Tamlin. 

She grabbed Lucien by his shoulders and screamed, “Grab her and get up!”

Lucien’s eyes went wide, but as if his body was not his own anymore, he obeyed and scooped Tamlin into his arms. Forcing himself up on shaking legs that were even worse that Elain’s. And went for the door. 

Thank God. 

Elain’s head tipped back as darkness engulfed her. 

Nesta was running on burning, burning legs. Every muscle was rigid, she felt everything and nothing at the same time and it was torment. 

But nothing could stop her as she forced herself forward and forward. The fox haired male beside her, cheeks tear-stained and cradling the body of his dead mate. 

She wanted to look behind her, just to catch a glimpse of her sister, but knew she couldn’t, that she had to get out now. She had the emerald and they needed that to remain out of Hybern’s hands. 

The exit was right before them. They were almost out. 

A little more. 

Lucien passed through the doors and as soon as he was gone from the spelled room, he disappeared into thin air, along with his dead mate. 

And Nesta. 

Nesta was grabbed and thrown to the floor. 

The Fire Fae that had been pelting down flame on Hybern and the Priestess that served him had collapsed in a heap on the ground. Fully spent, with barely enough energy to breathe. 

“No!”

She had been so close. 

“You stupid whore!” Hybern screamed in her ear as he went to grab the emerald. 

“Fuck you!” Nesta screamed as she fisted the emerald, and it burned in her hands. 

Then something rage-filled, and hot rolled through her core in dark waves. 

And Hybern was screaming and Nesta’s vision was white with flames. 

Flames that came from her own hands. 

Shit. 

Silver, it filled the room, dancing along the stone floor. Burning the King and his Priestess, sending them sprawling back against the scorching stone. 

She had no time to revel in her own victory, Nesta clutched the emerald which absorbed the power she could not control herself. Running for the unconscious Fae male. 

In a moment of pure fear, strength came to her. She grabbed him and slung his arm around her shoulder, running from the throne room. 

“Wake up!” She begged, still he remained limp. 

With no other choice, or place to run to as she left the spelled throne room. Heading new guards, the armies rushing into the castle. Filling the place with shouting and the sound of steel being unsheathed.

Nesta put the emerald to the male’s chest like she had witnessed happen and forced magic through it. 

“Come on!” She shouted. 

The emerald pulsed, the sound of footsteps quicked. 

“Please, please, please.” She begged. 

He gasped in air as his eyes opened. The green a scorching liquid amber colour. 

“Well hello.” He rasped out. 

“Get us out of here!” Nesta ordered. 

As he looked around and saw new soldiers beginning to rush in through the hallways. He nodded, “Of course, my Lady.”

And they were gone. 

When Elain woke up, it was because chains were being wrapped around her body and she was being hauled to her feet. 

Head spinning she didn’t know where to look. Maybe Hybern’s half scorched face, maybe Ianthe’s mother, whom she quickly realised was called Amber, when a guard referred to her as such, and her golden face. 

Ianthe was silent as she too was put in chains. 

Elain didn’t know how long it had been, but it must have been not more than a few minutes, as the bodies of soldiers were still out. And the mess of the battle was still visible. 

“Dungeons.” Hybern hissed. 

Amber grinned, “With pleasure. 

They were walked down dark tunnels that only got darker. The cold seeping in through the walls and into Elain’s skin. She kept her head low but watched Ianthe in front of her through her eyelashes. 

Eventually they were led to a large metal door, it swung open with a loud creak and inside could be seen two male guards. 

Ianthe stopped in place, as if waiting for Elain to be put in first. But then, Amber tsked, her grin widening as she said, “You’ll go in first, Ianthe.”

There was a moment of silence as the guards then forced the Priestess forward. 

In a heartbeat. 

Ianthe screamed. A raw sound that tore her throat, nose bleeding from the severity of her crying out. The red streamed down her face as her eyes too began to bleed from her never ending sobbing. 

She screamed to the roof, neck stretching up and head fallen back. The Priestess writhed against her chains, clinging to a threshold, as the guards tried to drag her into a room, into a dungeon. 

Elain was behind her. Watching with teary eyes of her own, as the robed female scabbed at threshold. Her arms strained, hands beginning to tear. 

“Please.” Elain flinched at the tearing screech in her voice. 

“This is your punishment,” Amber said to her daughter, as she smiled from behind them, “Your vows were forsaken when you betrayed me.”

Ianthe let out a gut-wrenching cry as she turned her eyes to the sky, “Mother of creation and Cauldron-”

“Do not beg.” Ianthe’s mother crooned. “The Goddess will not save you.”

Ianthe was sobbing, her cries making her voice shake and her prayer barely coherent, “I have been your loyal subject. Save me from staining. Save me please.”

“You defile us by your unworthy prayers.” Amber spat, “You will break your vows today by entering under a roof with only a male. The Mother will punish you with eternal flame and suffering. You are no Priestess.”

“Save me please, Mother, I have done nothing wrong.” Ianthe shrieked, as her fingers began to slip and the guards dragged her inside-

Elain leapt forward, her sudden, sharp burst of movement shocking the guards enough that she slipped from their grip. 

She hit the ground, and felt her arm shatter as it hit the floor. But she managed to dive into the room. Hitting a set of stairs and screaming as she almost tumbled down them, only just digging her nails into the wall and stopping herself from falling. 

Elain Archeron managed to get through the threshold just before Ianthe was thrown in. 

There was a terrifying shriek of anger from the Lady Amber outside, but Ianthe collapsed to the floor, face smeared with her own blood, tears and mucus. Her breaths were too quick and shallow, hyperventilating as she cried more on the floor. 

Elain went forward quickly. Her arm screaming with fiery pain but the adrenaline was enough for her to ignore it. 

With one arm, Elain managed to pull a sobbing Ianthe into her arms, holding her close. 

“You are okay.” Elain whispered, “You did not break your vows.”

Ianthe opened her mouth to say something, but it was cut off by gasping that was getting quicker and quicker as panic was still flooding through her. Elain could feel tears in her own eyes, but she hugged the female tighter, “Priestess.” She whispered, “Your Goddess had mercy, Priestess, she has not forsaken you.”

“My merciful Goddess.” Ianthe whispered into Elain’s skin. 

Elain ignored how that declaration felt more like it was directed at Elain herself rather than unseeable God. 

I’ll give over my soul. I sacrifice myself. I’ll gut myself on your alter. I throw my body into the sea. Just please, Mother, bring him back to me. 

Lucien recited his prayers over and over, and over, and over. Yet Tamlin’s body in his arms remained limp. Unmoving, not breathing. 

Water from the beach lapped against his knees. Causing his body to shiver from the cold. The crying of birds watching them was the only noise for a while. Lucien cried into Tamlin’s hair. One hand wrapped around him and the other going to his womb. Resting on the child they would have had, the baby they could have been blessed with. 

What would they have looked like? 

Blonde hair, blue eyes? Brown hair, green eyes? 

A little girl? A little boy? 

Lucien cried harder into Tamlin’s hair. 

The mating bond, it had snapped into place as Lucien had watched Hybern lay his hands down upon him. The fire that had leapt up in him had been nothing compared to the hatred and anger he had been engulfed with. 

But as soon as he was given it, it was ripped away. 

Sobbing, barely coherent, barely even there at all. Lucien looked at that lovely face. Blood drying on the corner of his plush lips. Skin still so divine, even if paler now. Lucien threaded his hands through Tamlin’s hair and untangled some of the knots gently. 

Lucien pressed his lips to Tamlin’s cheek, then the other, then his temple, then his nose, then the crown of his head. Like it was just another lazy morning in bed, like Tamlin would laugh as he woke. Like Tamlin would open his big green eyes and smile up at him once again. 

Please bring him back, please I can’t live without him. 

Please. 

Please, anybody. 

Lucien’s chest heaved and shuddered again as a cry was torn from his again. Rocking his love, his High lord, his Tamlin, back and forth. Like he was just sleeping, just asleep, nothing more. He would awaken. He always did. 

“Lucien.” A cracked voice said from behind him. Lucien snapped his eyes up and he saw her. 

Feyre, with her beautiful face, scattered with freckles, her brown hair stuck and clinging to her face. 

“This is your fault!” Lucien screamed with every last bit of strength in his weak body. 

Her eyes went wide and her face scrunched up as she fell to her knees crying. 

“If you had just come back, he wouldn’t be dead.” Lucien cried, his words near incoherent from his sobbing. 

But even through his cries and screams. Even through Feyre’s relentless sobs. 

Tamlin stayed still. 

Fully and utterly dead.

__________________________________________________

Whoops I ended it on an angsty note.

I swear Tamlin lives; I promise the story doesn't end here.

[dalishthunder]

WIP Wednesday

I'm not gonna change things up this time teehee so I tag @totally-not-deacon and @wanders-in-stars

Up in the mountains, snow was a near constant part of life. You learned that the hard way when you had to dig your way out of the inn after two days of it, leaving nearly three feet in its wake for you to trudge through.

"I don't understand why we have to make our way up the mountain in this kind of condition. Surely the Greybeards can wait until after thaw...." Nebarra grumbled, and for once Xelzaz agreed with him.

"Perhaps it would be best for us to wait until some of this has melted...." The argonian replied.

Kaidan snorted, pushing past them. "That's not how Skyrim works. At this altitude the snow won't melt ‘til summer. So either we head out now and take our chances, or we wait several months."

Nebarra balked, Lucien letting out an uncomfortable little laugh.

"And something tells me the Greybeards wouldn't appreciate their summons taking that long. We've already dallied several days," Kaidan continued. "But it's not my place to say what we do here." He turned to look at you, nearly waist deep in snow. "Dragonborn, what say you?"

You looked among your friends, noting the unease in their eyes. "I... I will go. Anyone who wants to stay at the inn for now, I think I have spare coin enough left for a week or so. I won't judge anyone for not accompanying me."

"What, and leave you alone to fend off gods know what on that mountain? Are you serious?" Kaidan scoffed. "No, Dragonborn, I'm afraid you're not rid of me that easily."

"Just... don't lead me to an early grave." Nebarra sighed as he stood by your side.

"As nice as curling up near a warm fire sounds, a burden is made lighter by many hands." Inigo placed his hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah! I am coming too! I want to see the Graybeards." Khash grinned.

Both Lucien and Lucifer agreed as well, and you almost wanted to cry, but that sounded ridiculous and you didn't want Nebarra mocking you all the way up the mountain. "I'm glad you're all here." You gave them all the biggest smile you could, feeling the cold already beginning to dry out your lips.

Kaidan made plowing through the snow seem like easy work, but even just following in his footsteps was an arduous task. And the higher you got, the thinner the air became... forcing you all to make frequent stops. Taking shelter under an overhang, you all carved your way into a relatively cozy spot. The sun was starting to get low, and you weren't sure how much farther you had to go to get the High Hrothgar... the last thing you needed was to lose someone over the edge from an easily avoidable stumble. So, you decided to make a crude shelter, piling up the snow you’d dug out to give you some semblance of a wall as you all huddled together around the small fire you’d made.

It was during second watch that you'd heard it; The muffled shuffling of heavy feet outside.

[totally-not-deacon]

WIP Wednesday Friday!

Time is a social construct, baby! Tagged by @throughtrialbyfire, thank you!! Uh, given the day, I suspect most folk have already been tagged, so instead - if you see this and haven't been tagged, consider yourself so!

So, to be kind chapter 8 is ending up... waaay fluffier than I originally intended, but the crew deserves it. Still gonna be a bit of drama in there, of course, but this one's muuuuch lighter.

With that said, take two short snippets to illustrate what I mean:

---

“Here Xel, let me at it.” He turned from the counter where he’d been about to season several mammoth steaks for supper. If they were going back on the road tomorrow, he wanted to take advantage of having an actual kitchen for once.

“Didn’t know you could cook.”

“Just meat, for obvious reasons.” Even if she was willing to, she wouldn’t have a clue how to cook vegetables. Knowing her, she’d somehow manage to both turn them to mush and burn them to nothing but ash. “My mother taught me a way to prepare timber mammoth steaks that I swear will melt in your mouth.”

“Looks like someone’s got some competition.” taunted Nebarra. “Hey, if it’s any good, maybe we can drop some dead weight around here.”

“Only if you never want to see another fruit or vegetable again.” Xelzaz reminded him. “And no, wine doesn’t count as a fruit.”

“Eh, I’ll live.”

“Oh, I should have you try my version of horker stew one day!” Cooking was something she hadn’t gotten to do in ages, and even then, doing so for only one person was no fun at all. It felt nice to have a different kind of blade in her hand, though it did make her a bit homesick. Nothing could ever beat waking up in the morning to her mother baking fresh jagga tarts, always trying to beat her siblings to the last one left. Apparently ‘I’m eldest’ wasn’t a good enough reason. Brats.

“Horker stew, you say?” She could hear the grin in Nebarra’s voice. “Well, Xelzaz, enjoy your walk through Hammerfell.”

---------

“Well isn’t that adorable.” Lucien looked up from his book, a bump in the road jostling the carriage nearly made him lose his place. Xelzaz nodded to the pair of moonstone clad mer across from them. He covered his mouth, chuckling quietly to himself. The pair were obviously asleep – Nebarra’s head hung limp, the faintest hint of a snore emanating from his helm, with an arm dangling over the cart’s frame behind the other elf. Meanwhile Marasa was plastered to his side, face jammed against his chestplate and dead to the world. Each bounce of the carriage had her own helm clanging against him, yet she didn’t stir.

Inigo leaned in from his other side, whispering. “Our friends seem to have gotten very close to one another lately.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Xelzaz would probably go with ‘joined at the hip’, especially after the disaster that was the embassy. Maybe it was just due to Marasa’s nerves over being out of the safety of home again, but it seemed like they were somehow worse, if that was even possible.

“Do you think they’re…?” Lucien trailed off.

“I’m not sure they could get their heads out of their rears long enough to even acknowledge it.” Then again… He glanced back at them. Nebarra had been slightly less insufferable the past few days on the road, and despite her worries, Marasa seemed especially chipper from the moment they left town.

The next bump nearly threw him off the back of the carriage and he landed back in his seat - and on his tail - with a painful thud. Nebarra jolted but didn’t awaken, pulling his arm back into the cart and draping it over her shoulders instead. She responded with a wordless grumble, shuffling closer and throwing her own arm around his waist. They fell still and quiet again as if nothing had happened. Xelzaz blinked. Okay, maybe there was something going on after all.

[draguta]

.a court of ash and smoke | seven.

pairing: lucien vanseera x fem!reader

summary: five years before feyre archeron ever stepped foot in prythian, another human girl found herself in the spring court. but the trials and tribulations of her time under the mountain left her with nothing but a certain red-headed high fae emissary, who had once resented her entire presence, to help and guide her.

chapter warnings: mentions of suicide, mentions of non-con/dub-con, violence

chapter word count: 3937

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Dungeons

Finding yourself back in the dungeons Under the Mountain was like falling into a fever dream. Five years had passed since you had last set foot in those dank and dark caves. As promised, Rhysand had collected you from your chambers that night, and you had trekked down the steep, winding staircase that led to Amarantha’s cells. Once there, he teleported - or winnowed, as he called it - you directly to Feyre’s cell, where all you had to do was open the door using the keys that he had swiped from one of the sleeping guards, put under when Rhysand had entered their minds and made them think that they were sleepy. You didn’t think to question why he couldn’t have simply winnowed you down the stairs, or directly into the cell.

“I’ll wait for you at the stairs,” he said lowly, with a nod of his head, and you simply thinned your lips in response, before he was gone. They key clicked as the lock opened, and the door creaked as it swung open a crack, shining the orange glow of the candlelight outside into the dark cell. It was the same cell, you realised with a lurch of your stomach, that you had been left to rot in once upon a time. Had it really only been five years? Five years in hell felt like so much longer.

“Feyre?” You whispered into the darkness, and then you saw her form move in the corner of the room, pressing up against the wall, arms outstretched before her as if to defend herself. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

She whimpered, and you hesitantly dropped to your knees before her, smiling at her softly, as soothingly as you could muster. Up close, you could see the beauty that had drawn Tamlin to her, that made Amarantha so jealous. Yet that beauty was now masked by fear, by torment and pain.

“I-I know you,” she whispered, her eyes scanning your face. “Tamlin told me about you. You’re his sister.”

You drew in a deep breath. “By blood, no. By choice, very much so.”

It was almost as if you were looking into a mirror that reflected your own past back at you. You saw so much of yourself in Feyre, so much of the strength and zest that you had once had. But now she too was breaking, just as you once had, and you would be damned if you let her lose herself in this cell as you had. “Why are you here?” She asked slowly, and you lowered your head, glancing down at her arm. Where bone had once protruded sickeningly from the skin, now lay smooth skin, only the black tendrils of a tattoo reaching up her arm in place. Rhysand.

“I wanted to talk to you,” you said quietly. “Because I can see your strength, your determination and defiance. I can see it in you. It leeches from your skin like a scent. But right now, it’s hidden, and I knew it would be. The second I saw you throw that bone, when I saw your arm, I knew that you would have given up hope.”

“You were at my trial?” She asked, and you nodded firmly. “So, what do you see now?”

“I see fear,” you answered plainly. “I see someone who is breaking, someone who is close to giving up, just as I once did. I gave up fighting, I accepted my fate. But you don’t need to do that, you can’t do that.”

You could hear her sniffles, even if you couldn’t see her tears. “What am I supposed to do then?”

“You keep fighting, Feyre. Not for the Spring Court, not for Lucien, or even Tamlin,” you drew in a breath, and caught her eyes with yours. “You fight for you. Because that strength that I first saw from you on the day that you came here, I know it’s still in there. Harness that. Harness your pain and frustration. Use it against her. Use it to your own advantage.”

She sniffled again. “You have lost someone, under this mountain, I think,” she said quietly.

“What makes you say that?” You frowned.

“Because you speak as if you’ve lost your own strength,” she whispered in reply. “And yet I can see it, behind your eyes. Just as you can see mine. You keep fighting, but not for yourself. You fight for someone else, for a memory of something long gone.”

You flinched under her gaze. Because she was right. You may have been broken, and lost, and so very tired, but you hadn’t stopped fighting, even if you hadn’t realised it until then.

“You’re wrong,” was all you could manage, rising to your feet. “I do keep fighting, but not for someone who has died. I fight for me, or rather, the me that I used to be. That’s what I lost. I lost myself under this mountain, in this court.” You drew in a shaking breath. “But I intend to get her back, just as you should. Don’t lose yourself Feyre. Because the fight to get back to where you are will be harder than anything you face here. I would know.”

You turned and made for the door, pausing only once your hand met the wood, and looked back at her. “Don’t let them see you vulnerable,” you whispered. “Don’t let them think you’re weak.”

Feyre’s final words to you echoed along through the cell door as you closed it behind you. “Thank you, Y/N. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Days passed by, and you found yourself lingering outside Lucien’s chambers more than you likely should have been. The Spring Court members who had been caring for him since his lashings had informed you on more than one occasion that he was ok, that he was healing, and simply needed rest and time to recover, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from hovering there each day, for hours at a time, for any word on his well being. Your feet would walk the halls Under the Mountain without thought, and you would always find yourself, at the end, staring up at the wooden door, so close to knocking, so close to entering and seeing his face.

But could you see him like that? In so much pain that you couldn’t alleviate? You would be helpless, and would only get in the way of those from the Spring Court who knew how to deal with wounds like that. You could only imagine that this was not the first time they had seen lashes like that.

You never asked Rhysand about the tattoo that you had seen on Feyre’s hand and arm, even if he was the one who dragged you away from Lucien’s door on most occasions. Each time he found you there, he was more furious than the last, pulling you away by your arm every time and escorting you personally back to your own chambers, despite your arguments.

“Did I not tell you to leave it, to leave him, alone?” He snapped on the last of countless times he had found you lingering there. Only once you were back in your chambers did he deign to speak, or scold you. “You will only make it worse.”

“I just want to know that he’s ok,” you huffed out in defeat.

“You already know that he’s ok,” he countered. “They tell you every time you show up there, and yet you ignore them, and ignore me, and show your face like a lost puppy dog outside his door every day. Do you know how that looks? For the court whore to be so worried about one of her many clients? To be caught outside his bedroom? Especially after your performance in the throne room when Amarantha was interrogating him for Feyre’s name.”

You tutted your tongue and threw yourself onto the edge of your mattress, your dress fluttering around you as you did so. “So what am I meant to do? Just sit and wait?”

“Exactly,” he heaved. “You’re finally getting it.”

“You really expect me not to go to him? You expect me to sit here and wait?” You asked in disbelief.

“I expect you to keep up appearances. Do your job, and don’t cause any suspicions-” he began, but you interrupted.

“He’s hurt, Rhysand. How can you act like I can simply go back to whoring myself out, when he nearly died?”

“Do you love him?”

You froze, a pang in your gut, a strange swirling sensation as his violet eyes met yours and held them in a harsh glare. You twisted your lips. “I don’t think of him that way,” you finally uttered.

“Then why do you care so much?” Rhysand asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” you countered. Rhysand snarled.

“You know my reasonings for acting with you the way that I do,” he leered. “Now, don’t try to change the subject. Tell me.”

You inhaled sharply, pulling your gaze away from him, staring at the floor, and wishing yourself somewhere else, as you had done so many times before. You had not the strength to tell him of your darkest thoughts, to tell him only the real, pure truth, something that still shone in your heart, albeit dimly. That one little glimmer that you still held, only for you, was your own truth.

“Because he’s all I have,” you said finally, no louder than a whisper of breath between slightly parted lips. “When you brought me here, and Tamlin all-but forsook me, it was Lucien that checked on me, who looked after and protected me. I know I asked Tamlin to stay away, but it was still Lucien, the entire time. It was him, day after day, that I’ve been clinging to. The only scrap of happiness that I found under this godforsaken mountain. Those times when I’m with him, I feel safe. And that’s something that I haven’t felt for a long time.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow as he came to perch on the side of the bed beside you. But he didn’t speak, he gave me the time to let it out, everything that you had been holding so close to my chest for five years.

“Amarantha, she keeps threatening to take that away,” you continued through a shaky breath. “That’s why I stay there, outside his door. Because if I lost that glimmer of safety, if I lost him, then I would have no hope left.”

Rhysand sighed, deep and heavy and seemingly filled with unsaid words, and then he turned to you, eyebrows raised, hand gripped on his thighs. “Perhaps all this time here really has driven you mad.”

You blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Well, if you think that Lucien of all people is your only hope, then you must have completely lost your mind,” he laughed.

“You know, he would say something similar about you.” You couldn’t help but smile.

“I have no doubt that he would,” Rhysand smirked, and you thought you heard a small chuckle laced into his words. “But you do realise that your hope, as you put it, isn’t in Lucien, or Tamlin, or even me, even if I am rather incredible. Your hope, you foolish girl, is in there.”

He prodded a thick finger against your chest, enough to push you back slightly, poking you right where your heart was. “It’s been there the whole time. Maybe you lost it for a moment,” - neither of us dared speak that we knew what he was referring to - the ash arrow on the fateful day when you had felt that there was nothing left but that - “but it’s always been in you. That was the only reason I chose to trust you, because I knew that heart of yours was just squeezed full of hope.”

Tears trickled at your cheeks - you hadn’t even realised you’d been crying.

“It’s the only reason you’re still here, I think. The only reason you haven’t completely given up yet,” he continued with a smile - a genuine one, filled with no snide or snark. “And you’re the hope for so many under this mountain, those of us who have seen you persevere, have seen you fight, no matter what has been placed in front of you, and have seen you never back down, never break down. Feyre may be our chance,” he paused again, glimmering deep-violet eyes meeting yours as he reached up to stroke away one of your tears from your cheek, “but you, Y/N, you are our hope.”

Weeks passed by, and you found yourself walking with a new sense of lightness in each step. Amarantha noticed it, much to her aggravation. She saw the smile that you wore, saw the way you chattered with the Spring Court as if you weren’t living deep in the depths of hell. Tamlin noticed too, and you saw the way that his eyes followed you as you made your way through the throne room each night, every party, with your chin high.

Rhysand had begun bringing Feyre out from her cell, dressing her in a similar fashion to how he had styled you, and you couldn’t help but wince when you saw her that first night, concerned that she was to be the new you, that she was to go through the same horrors that you had faced. But Rhysand kept her close to his side, and you couldn’t help but notice the way he never truly touched her.

It made you cast your mind back, and you realised with great surprise that Rhysand had never once come to your chamber to claim you, only ever to help you. After a while, the bodies had blended together, and you had forgotten who was who, yet standing there, watching the way he acted with Feyre, it clicked that he had never gone to see you seeking servicing as the others had. That was all it took for you to become cemented in your decision that Rhysand was an ally, whether he helped for his own means, or genuinely because he was good at heart.

Lucien had returned to court, and despite his slight limp and occasional wince of pain, he seemed to be on the mend. When he had first walked through those double doors, you had been sure your heart might have popped out of your chest onto the tiled floor at your feet, but as Rhysand caught your eye, he gave you a warning shake of his head.

Of course. To show that he was your weakness, that you may very well have been his, would only cause trouble for the both of you, that’s what Rhysand had said, and with the way Amarantha watched you so intently for the entire night, as if waiting to get a rise from you, you could only assume that he was right.

And so, you kept your distance, and kept your head held high. Plied Feyre with faerie wine at Rhysand’s behest, as Lucien once had with you, knowing that it would help to dull the embarrassment that she felt. You could feel Lucien’s eyes on you, Tamlin’s twinning him occasionally when his focus was drawn from Feyre, but you didn’t even so much as glance at Lucien. You drank glass after glass of wine each night for weeks, laughed with Rhysand, allowed a client to pick you out of the crowd and take you back to your chambers, and fell asleep after the door had clicked closed behind them when they left.

And it remained that way for those weeks. The same routine, each and every night.

But when you fell asleep each night, faerie wine making you hazy and dizzy and sleepy, it was red hair and autumn leaves and the smell of apple cider that you dreamt of.

Feyre’s second trial loomed, and the air in the court began to change, to grow colder and more tense with each day that passed. You didn’t pay heed to it - Feyre could do it, you believed in her, just as Rhysand had believed in you.

On the day of the trial you wandered down to the throne room. For some reason, despite having avoided him for weeks by that point, you had half expected Lucien to be waiting at those open doors, just as he had been for the first trial, and it was hard to mask your disappointment when you found that spot to be void of anyone.

“He’s not coming,” that smooth, low voice came from behind you, and as you turned you found Rhysand leaning against the door opposite, wearing that familiar smirk. 

“What makes you think I was looking for him?” You asked with a raised brow.

“I’m not stupid,” he chuckled. He pushed himself off the wall and extended an arm to you. “Come, you can watch the trial from the good seats today.”

You had no choice but to link your arm through his and allow him to lead you through the mountainous court. When you finally reached the area where the trial would take place, you found it not to be the same one as the first trial. It was similar, that was for sure, but it was smaller in size. It still bore, however, a deep pit dug low into the ground in the middle, this time made of a sharp, smooth stone. You squeezed through the bodies behind Rhysand, pushing past the chairs, and found a perch in the seat beside him, just to the right of Amarantha and her throne.

You were so close to Tamlin from there that if you just reached out, you might’ve been able to touch his shoulder. Your brother, who had played the part of indifferent, cold soldier for so long now that he might as well have become it entirely.

Your eyes scanned the crowds, both seated and surrounding the pit on foot, for Lucien, but he was nowhere in sight, and your heart dropped just a little bit more. Perhaps your attempts at keeping him at arms length had been too much. A moment later, Feyre was brought forward, and the crowd cheered.

“Well, Feyre, your second trial has come,” Amarantha’s voice echoed through the room, cutting the cheers to a snappy silence. “Have you solved my riddle yet?”

Feyre said nothing, and Amarantha simply snarled smugly. “Too bad. But I’m feeling generous tonight.” She glanced at Tamlin, who held Feyre’s stare, and she hissed in distaste. “Begin.”

A light flickered somewhere in the pit as Feyre was lowered down, and the air from your lungs whooshed from your mouth as you rose to your feet from instinct, ignoring Rhysand’s light grip on your wrist, pulling you back down. You couldn’t move, you were frozen to that spot, as if bound in place by one of these High Fae’s magic. Because there, on the far side of an iron gate, bound in chains, laid on his side, was Lucien.

You didn’t miss the smirk that Amarantha shot you, and you realised now what Rhysand had meant; you truly understood every inch of what he had said. You had done this, had placed a target on Lucien’s back. He had always been a way to torment Tamlin and Feyre, but with the added bonus of breaking you into nothing, Amarantha had chosen him, of everyone.

You could see the white of his russet eye glinting in the dim light as he took in his surroundings, took in Feyre’s stance before him. And then it moved, trailing over the crowd around them, until it finally landed on you, and despite his circumstances, despite where he was, you saw his chest deflate in a sigh. Because you were there, and you were safe, and if he was going to die then he would at least know that you were there in his final moments.

And your heart wrenched in a way that it never had before. It twisted in your chest, as if Amarantha had reached in between your ribs and rushed it with her red fingernails.

“Sit down,” you heard Rhysand whisper from behind you. But you couldn’t, you were glued to the spot, eyes trained on Lucien.

“Here, Feyre darling, you shall find your task,” Amarantha stated clearly and loudly for the entire court to hear. “Simply answer the question by selecting the correct lever, and you’ll win. Select the wrong one to your doom. As there are only three options, I think I gave you an unfair advantage.” She smirked, snapping her fingers, and as something groaned and creaked above, you looked up, eyes wide, vomit ready to spew on the floor. For above them were two large metal grates, slowly descending inch by inch toward the pit, encrusted in sharp, glinting spikes. “That is,” Amarantha continued. “If you can solve the puzzle in time.”

You could see the panic overtake Feyre, could see as Lucien pulled at his chains as if to get to her, to help her. She stared wildly at the question on the wall, the groaning metal above lowering and lowering, signifying her time running out.

“Something wrong?” Amarantha chortled. Feyre simply stared at the wall, and you stood, unable to breathe as you watched her - watched Lucien - intently, and your heart all-but cracked in two. Because you realised then, as you took in her puzzled and panicked expression, that Feyre could not read.

And Lucien was, in all likelihood, about to die.

The spikes were hot, you could see that from their dim, orange glow, as if they had been held over a flame for hours, and those grates passed over the tip of the pit.

“Answer it!” Lucien shouted, voice hoarse and pleading, those eyes flickering up to you just for a moment. You tried to memorise every line of his face in that sharp second. “Just pick one!”

You spun on your heel, staring intently at Rhysand. “Help her,” you whispered. He looked up at you in surprise, but it was quickly wiped away when he looked back down at the pit, at Feyre struggling to make out the words. “Rhysand, help her, please. I’m begging you!”

It was louder, not enough that Amarantha might hear, but Rhysand’s fierce stare flicked back up to you as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into your seat. “What do you think I’m doing?” He hissed quietly. “Now, keep your mouth shut.”

You could barely hear him over the pounding of your own heart in your chest. Feyre reached for the second lever - the wrong answer - but then snapped her hand away as if she had been burnt. She reached again for the same lever, but once again pulled away as if in pain. She reached for the first lever, just as Lucien begged again - “Feyre, please!” - and once again lunged away from it, clutching her hand.

Your eyes widened, and you turned slowly to look at Rhysand, who simply leaned back in his chair, looking back at me with a smirk.

The third lever - she pulled it firmly, eyes gripped tightly closed, and then-

The grates stopped, and began retracting from the pit, and you could hear the sigh of relief that burst through Lucien’s lips as he collapsed to the ground, a quiet prayer, a kiss to the floor, and a sharp smile thrown at you. Feyre was pulled upward again, but you were already on your feet, rushing through the crowd and back down the stairs.

This time, Rhysand didn’t stop you.

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

Left you by the road with the crows in the dust...

Summary:

Lucien “Luci” Greco, you’re piece of shit ex, has come to NY looking for you. He's the reason you had to leave everything behind in the first place. Didn't stop him from searching for you though. The long lost mafia princess. He needs you if he is ever to rightfully take over the family from your father Declan. Little does he know you're doing mercenary work for the highest bidder. He still thinks you're some wilting damsel, a spoiled little princess. Your daddy didn't raise you that way though. You've been primed to take over since birth. Too bad he beat the shit out of you so badly you had to run for your safety. Somehow, even trying to stay under the radar you've befriended the damn Avengers family. A misfit mafia if you’ve ever seen one. You’re all after the same enemy afterall. Maybe, it's time to finally let someone or several someones in, so you can live life without constantly looking over your shoulder. Question is, do you even want the crown anymore?

Warnings: 18+ Only. Dark Themes ahead. Read at your own risk.

Angst and Fluff and Smut, Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Angst, Blood and Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse. Past Sexual Abuse, Past Relationship(s)Past Violence, Mafia Avengers, Mafia AU, Reader-Insert, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top, Just a lot of dirty smut ok.

Notes:

Warning: This chapter gets pretty dark. Please heed the tags. Banner @cafekitsune Divider @firefly-graphics

“So…let me get this straight. My favorite little merc, with a body as deadly as the daggers she wields, and the mouth of a sailor, is secretly a mafia princess. Oh and not just any mafia princess. But the heir to the whole damn San Francisco Bay Empire. The only family around in the US that I even count as equal to my status.” Tony expresses as he pours himself a Scotch from the bar while you casually peruse the books lining the study walls.

“That about sums it up. I was trying to heal in peace and help my father, as well as myself, seek some revenge. I just so happen to have acquired a taste for blood and mayhem in my renewed life. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to make some green while painting the town red.” You succinctly reply. “But, seeing as how my little secret is out, I guess I owe you some kind of explanation. The floor is all yours. Just for tonight, I will answer any questions you have as honestly as I am able to.”

“I’ve got one. Why?” Bucky swaggers into the study, looking very much the Winter Soldier he is known for being. “Why was he able to do such horrendous things to you and he is still breathing?”

“Aw. The million dollar question.” You nod your head. “It’s simple really. I was young and naive back then. I trusted a man that I grew up with who knew our lifestyle because he grew up in it as well. That Lucien is one smooth talking snake in the grass, I’ll tell you. He charmed the pants off of me literally. My father too. Treated me like a princess at first and then over time his true colors began to shine through as he started climbing the ranks within the family.” 

You take a deep breath. “Everything I did was scrutinized down to the color of my pedicure. I was to be seen and never heard when my father was not around. A difference of opinion, no matter how small, earned me a back hand to the face at minimum.” 

You shake your head, knocking lose the memories. “Goddess forbid I ever fought back. He’d just overpower me and leave me with marks as reminders to obey. He threatened to kill my father in his sleep more times than I could count knowing I would never play with that man’s life.”

You turn towards the three men leaning against the bar. “It got to a point where it was just easier to let him have his way while I thought of a way safely out of things. Unfortunately for me, the way I finally got away from him was far from safe.”

“And how exactly did you get away? I’m gonna need to know the story attached to that lovely little scar you have.” Tony chimes in.

“I’m gonna need a stiff drink before I dive into those sordid details.”

You approach the bar as Bucky places a glass of whiskey in your hand. You shoot it back and prepare yourself to relive the worst night of your life.

The bass is vibrating through the floor beneath you in the VIP section, as it fills the club. You watch from up above, the mass of gyrating bodies out for a good time. You wish you could be one of those lost souls right now, under the spell of liquor and sin. But alas, here you stand, amongst made men, as nothing more than something pretty to look at while your boyfriend conducts business. Your typical Saturday for the last two years, unfortunately. 

Knowing the Boss's daughter will be in attendance when you have a meeting, makes things far easier for the young Capo trying to continue his trajectory through the ranks. Lucien didn't give a shit about anything other than his business. You were to be seen and not heard on these nights, anything else would result in lessons that left marks behind. 

Tonight, you just didn't have it in you to play the part of the dutiful, sweet, mafia princess fiancee. Maybe there was something in the air, or you’ve had enough of his philandering antics and arrogant narcissism. No matter the cause, you were full of the ‘fuck it’s’ and it showed. 

“She is very beautiful, Lucien. You are one lucky man to have landed such a catch. Tell me, is she worth all the hoopla? I imagine you have others to keep your kinks in check.” Nero, the pompous ass your fiance is meeting with, inquires.

Before Lucien can get a word out to most likely placate this low-life, you pipe up. “I’m right here asshole. And you’d do best to remember who you’re speaking of. I am far more than some trophy. You’d be blessed to have the chance to lick the dirt off my heels.”

Nero looks taken aback for a moment before a smile splits his face. “Feisty. I like em with some bite in em. My apologies. I’d be more than happy to rectify the situation privately. I’m sure Luci here wouldn’t mind.”

“In your wettest dreams Nero.” You say behind a saccharine sweet smile. 

Quietly seething and tense, Lucien attempts to get this meeting back on track. “Sunshine.” He says through gritted teeth. “That’ll be all for now. Connor, take her down to the car. As soon as my meeting is finished, we will be heading home.” 

His eyes narrow at you as a hand grips around your bicep and you're being pulled toward the back exit. Your eyes never leave his, until the door is firmly closed, removing him from your sight. Your actions will not go unpunished. Of this you are certain. But it is of no matter to you at this moment. It was worth it to put that scumbag in his place. Goddess knows Luci would not have. 

Too anxious to sit still, you decide to pace along the car, while you wait in the garage for the meeting to conclude. Connor follows you with his eyes like a predator watching his prey. Your fiance’s right hand always gave you the creeps. He was the one person who knew first hand all the horrible things Lucien has done to you. He was often present for them and seemed to find some kind of sick joy out of your torment. He would be of no help, once Luci arrived. 

Just as you were about to turn and start another trek around the car, the door to the garage from inside the club slams open. Out walks your fiance, looking anything but calm. He makes a beeline straight to where you had halted in your tracks. 

“Lucie-” was the only word you were able to utter before his meaty hand was clamped around your throat, cutting off your air supply, as he slammed you into the passenger door.

“Oh no. You’ve run your mouth enough tonight Sunshine. Could have cost me a pretty penny too if I wasn’t the great business man that I am.” He only squeezes harder as your hands claw at his wrist. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen now. We’re gonna get into the car. Connor is gonna drive us home. Along the way I’m going to remind you of the only thing that mouth is good for. Then I’m going to do whatever I want with this sexy little body because I can.”

Your vision was getting blurry and just as you thought you might pass out, he releases you and throws you into the back of the car. Your lungs burn, trying to take in as much air as they can. He climbs in behind you and nods his head to Connor to head out. 

Before you can really get your bearings, he entangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you over his turgid length, standing proud from his unzipped pants. “Open wide and relax your throat Sunshine. This is going to be rough.” 

You’ve barely opened your mouth before your head is pulled down, taking him to the root, making you gag and tears form in your eyes. Your airflow is once again cut off as you choke on the dick lodged in your throat. That’s when he begins to bob your head along his length as he thrusts up each time he pulls you down. Saliva and tears are making a mess of your face as well as his lap.

But he just doesn’t care. This is your punishment for not being a step-ford princess tonight. You only deserve the breaths he allows you to take. Your head is throbbing from the death grip on your hair and the lack of oxygen being supplied to your brain. You’re trying your hardest to not pass out. You can only imagine what he’d do to your body if that happened with him in this state.

With a growl he pulls you off his lap and throws you back against the door so you're sprawled out along the bench. Trying to catch your breath you eyes follow his hand as it retrieves his Stiletto Switchblade from his slacks pocket and he flicks it open. 

“It’s a shame I have to cut this off you. I really do love you in this dress.” He shifts his body in between your thighs and begins to cut your dress right up the middle. Leaning further over your body as he goes. A sadistic smile spreads across his face as he reaches the bottom of your ribs.

You have no idea what comes over you, but you can not let him get this dress off you. With a quickness you were unaware you had, you reach into his undone pants, grip his balls tightly, twist and pull down with all of your might, eliciting a shocked yell from your fiance. 

“You fucking bitch! You really are stupid tonight. I warned you. Remember that.” With those final words he spins the blade in his hand and plunges it into your sternum. As you gaze down to the knife protruding from your chest you hear Lucien instruct Connor to pull over. 

“I really wish you would have just behaved Sunshine.” As the car comes to a stop he exits the car. The door behind your head opens and arms are shoved under yours, pulling you out onto the dusty embankment. It must be Connor because Lucien is crouched above your semi prone form. “I’m gonna need my knife back baby. You understand.” He then proceeds to yank it out of your chest, wipe it off on his still open slacks and turn back to the car. 

The next thing you know your rolling down a ditch until you land on your side, slowly bleeding out as you hear two car doors shut and the sound of the engine taking off and headlights leading away, leaving you in total darkness surrounded by the cold night air.

“What Lucien failed to remember that night; was the tracker in the locket that my father made me wear since I was little.” You stated. A little too calmly for someone who just told the story of their near death at the hands of their partner. “It not only tracks my coordinates but my health status as well. When my heart rate drops below a certain level it sends an SOS to my father along with my location.” 

“So daddy came in to save the day.” Tony states.

You nod your head. “More or less. He showed up with my uncle Teddy and our most trusted medic. They took me to a safe house, equipped with a hospital grade exam room. I got patched up and rested for a couple days while my father played the part of a distraught parent searching for his lost child.” 

You tap your fingers against your empty glass as Steve refills it for you. “Let me guess? Lucien acted as if he had no idea what happened to you. Playing his dutiful fiance role.”

“You would be correct, Captain. At least that’s what I heard in my isolation. Once I was healthy enough to travel my father made some calls and moved some money around. He set me up with the funds to head out and not come back until he was ready for me.” You downed your whiskey. “That’s how I ended up in New York. As far away as physically possible but close enough that when the time came I could end Lucien myself.” 

“And the mercenary work?” Bucky inquired.

“Right.” You push your tongue into your cheek. “Honestly. I wanted to keep my skills sharp and form new ones. Why not do that while making some coins in the process. Win/Win in my book.” You shrug. “Plus what better way to slate my bloodlust.”

“Well you’ve definitely filled in some gaps for us with that information. Now we just need to figure out what we’re going to do about this Hydra situation.” Tony informs you all. 

“I’m not going to be comfortable sending you home knowing that jackass is aware you’re alive and well now.” States the brunette enforcer.

“Aww. You worried about little ole me Wolfie?” You bite on the tip of your pointer finger. 

“He’s not the only one, Doll.” Steve chimes in.

“I’d feel better having you here at the compound myself. Once Pep hears about what went down tonight and in the past, she’s not letting you leave.” Now it was Tony’s turn to express his concerns.

You let out a sigh. “Do I really have a choice in the matter?”

“I’d say you do but that would be a lie.” Steve answers for the group.

“Alright. Under one condition. My room needs to be able to accommodate not only me but Hades as well. Where I go, my hell-hound goes. No exceptions.”

“Deal.” Tony places his hand out for you to shake. You promptly do.

“Now about this Hydra business.” Your eyes light with mischief and mayhem. “I have some ideas.” 

[cheeryconspiracy]

I literally NEVER use tumblr except to stalk my fixation tags but I know that the my time series has a relatively sizeable fandom here so I thought I’d use this opportunity to share my My Time at Sandrock ocs! I love sharing stuff like this so if anyone ever wants to share infodumps abt their ocs or just the series in general I’d love to meet more people into it! <3

Anyway here r the ocs 🥳 I’ll introduce them individually under a read more (I think that’s how tumblr works? I don’t use this enough)

Clarice is a 26 year old Sandrock native. While her parents are originally from Walnut Groove and Vega 5, they moved to Sandrock in the peak of the relic rush era and decided to stay, even after everyone else had packed up and jumped ship. Clarice herself is an aspiring opera singer, who loves all sorts of old world music. Her life goal is to travel across the free cities and perform, but for now she remains in her hometown, and the Blue Moon’s guests remain her most loyal audience. Clarice is the type of person who it’s easy to get along with - she’s a good listener, kind and gentle, and treats everyone with respect, even when she disagrees.

Calliope is a 23 year old acolyte of the Church of the Light. She was born in Meidi, to parents who were both extremely devout followers of the Church. Technology was strictly banned for her household, as were any sorts of old world paraphernalia. Growing up, Calliope became very interested in the old world, indulging in her interest in secret. After training under the Church in Meidi, she made a request to be stationed in Sandrock - the most accepting city state of old world relics, and is currently on a three year service. Despite not believing in the church’s teachings at all, Calliope is very devoted to her job, although it’s her dream to be a professional ruin diver. She’s very cheerful and tries to get everyone to be the best person they can be, even if sometimes she comes across as a little pushy, and doesn’t really leave a lot of moral support for herself.

Topher is a 29 year old Civil Corps Officer. Raised in one of Atara’s more wealthy families, Topher is used to having everything handed to him, on a silver platter no less. As he grew up he became much more spoiled and developed a lot more of an attitude. Unable to cope with his attitude, his parents were able to pull a few strings and get Topher enlisted in the Sandrock Civil Corps, in hope that Sandrock’s harsh climate and more dangerous jobs would straighten him out a little. Despite this, he still manages to be as pompous as ever, often redirecting all of his jobs to Unsuur when possible.

Adelaide is a 28 year old builder! Born on the border of Lucien, she was caught up in Duvos skirmishes from a very early age. After losing her mother at war, her and her father packed up and headed to Highwind. Adelaide learned to toughen up from a very early age, knowing that if she had to return home for whatever reason, she’d have to do it a lot stronger than she had been. She lives a relatively comfortable life, impulsively switching up on jobs every few years. At the moment, she’s on a building kick, and moved to Sandrock on a complete and total whim - who knows where she’ll end up, though? She tends to be snarky and overconfident and a bit of a bastard, always picking fun at people. Despite her short height, she’s incredibly feisty and always aims to prove how strong she is! She’s shipped with Pen :> gotta draw them at some point

And then there’s Hestia! A 24 year old builder who serves as my self insert for the series! (I still made up backstory for them tho cuz. Ofc) Hestia was born in Portia but due to her parent’s wanderlust was moved around constantly - every few months or so - until he and his parents eventually settled in Highwind East. Her builder father passed away in a co-gliding incident soon after, and her botanist mother, as a response, went into a workaholic frenzy, often forcing Hestia into her work with her. Hestia got to visit Sandrock multiple times in his youth as a result of this, though it wasn’t until he ran away from home several years later that she’d return for good to become a builder. She’s shipped with Fang, bc he’s my favourite :>

If you actually read this far, first of all I appreciate you so much. Second of all hi! Have a good day <333

[countrymusiclover]

67 - A Caring Vamp Sire

Part 68

Gemini Runaway

Tag list ask to be added @icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

“Thank you…” He whispered, pressing his face into my chest breathing in and out slowly. 

Resting my chin on top of his head I wrapped my arms around his weak form. His fingers clutched the fabric of my shirt for some comfort. “Sssh, Nik. I’ve got you.” 

Moving my fingers through Nik's curly mess of hair I felt him steer slightly. He blinked his eyes opened turning his head to meet my gaze. "Morning babe, who knew it would be four years before I would be the one taking care of you after a fight." I chuckled, giving him a bright smile of relief washing over me. 

"Rae….wait Aurora?" He began to sit up until I pushed him down. 

"Freya has her dosed with a spell. So she'll be down for a while. Lay back down." 

He sighed reaching out for my hand. "You gave me your blood. You didn't have to do that.." 

"Yes I did. You were barely hanging on, Nik. You needed blood before you desiccated." Intertwining my hand with his I turned my head hearing someone coming inside from downstairs. "Someone's here." 

He again tried to sit up but I held his arm down. "I'm coming…uh!" 

"Just stay here and rest. I'll be back in a second." I told him vamping out of the room before he fought me. Walking towards the door I recognized the voice that hollers. 

"Klaus? Klaus?" 

I rushed forward seeing Cami stumbling into the doorway. "Cami, What is it?" 

"Something happened and you're gonna be angry, but Lucien wants you to be angry. He's trying to lure you into a trap." She babbled gripping my shoulders when I stepped towards her. 

Suddenly Klaus vamped beside me asking the newbie vampire. "What did he do?" 

"I told you to stay in bed!" I snapped at him. 

He shook his head, taking Cami's hand in his. On her arm we could see a bite mark forming. "Promise me you won't fly off the handle and do something crazy. Promise me. Before you lose it...Klaus... look at me. I won't let you get yourself killed." 

Klaus and I shared a worried glance when he asked. "Camille…" 

"I just needed you to know." She breaks out weakly. 

Holding her shoulder in my grasp before she collapsed towards me. "Thank you for the warning but…woah." 

"You're not dying today." Klaus caught her limp body bridal style carrying her into the bedroom and laying her down. 

A Few minutes later Freya and Elijah joined us in the room seeing the state she was in. Her head was laying against a pillow. Leaning back against the bedroom. "Are you all right?" 

She nodded. "Yeah. Considering." 

Freya came over dabbing her wound with something. "Hold still.This is going to burn." 

Cami winced. "Ow. Ow, what is that?" 

She told her. "It's a healing salve. Motherwort. White willow bark. The recipe's over 1,000 years old." 

Cami grumbled. "So, the good stuff, huh?" 

The Mikealson witch explained looking at me. "Well, it will ease the pain, dull the symptoms, but... it won't stop the infection." 

"So I'm screwed." She spat. 

Klaus told her reaching for my hand to take. "We're gonna do everything that we can, Cami." 

Elijah entered the conversation. "To that end, a little assistance." 

"I can't believe you let this happen. Now there's someone bigger than an Original vampire!" I snapped at my brother in law. 

He slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Raelyn, I'm sorry. We tried yo stop him-" 

"Shut it, Elijah" Holding my hand up I cut him off heading towards the door leaving the room. 

Yet Klaus came after.me spinning me back around into his chest. "Rae, where are you going?" 

"To kick Lucien’s ass!" I barked showing him my fangs for s brief moment. 

His blue eyes met my gaze. "Love, its too dangerous. He could kill you." 

"But now he is the reason she's dying. I refuse to let my friend die because of a beast like him!" I growled, yanking my arm from his grasp. 

Klaus rolls his eyes as I went to wall away. "Raelyn, just stay here. We will stop him together." 

"I can't sit and watch her die!" Spinning around on my feet throwing my hair in my face. "You said Lucien has curse for almost everything. So my guess is that he has one for his own bite." 

He asked me softly. "And what exactly do you think the cure would be?" 

"Since your blood is the cure for a werewolf bite. Then my theory is his blood is the cure go his own bite yoo." I put the pieces together turning and finally leaving. 

"Be careful, Rae¡" He called out. 

I responded to him vamping off to find Lucien. "I will be." 

Entering his big apartment I searched around in his drawers. Opening cabinets and boxes but not finding any vials of blood. "I wouldn't have taken you to be a theft, siphon heretic." 

"Lucien! Motus!" Spinning I'm my boots I launched him across the room where he fell into the coffee table. 

He sat up a little wickedly smiling. "Not as impressive as me. So what makes you think that you can best me?: 

Clutching my hands into fists at my sides I focused on him. "I'm here to find a cure for Cami. And I will do whatever I have to so she can live." 

"You can try your best. But I doubt-" He got cutting off by me. 

"Invidia!" I made him grab his head in agony. "Where is the cure!" 

He started laughing vamping away from me coming back into the room with my brother. "I was hoping you showed up. I'm glad I snagged him on the chance of seeing you." 

"Jacob! You let him go this minute!" I grunted revealing my fangs. 

Lucien smirked. "Not until I do this." He sunk his fangs into his neck. 

"Ahh!" Jacob screamed where I vamped over to Lucien holding him against the wall. 

Jacob's body collapsed where I head his neck break behind me. "You bastard, nobody hurts my brother  - Jacob!" 

"Ha ha ha  you should known I'd grabbed him. I don't care who dies. Our sire needs to realize he's not all powerful anymore." Lucien chuckled dryly sliding down the wall. 

Vamping over to my brothers body. He gripped my shirt in his hands. "Rae.." 

"I'm sorry this happened." I croaked grasping his hand in mine. 

Lucien just kept laughing at us. "I am in charge now!" 

"Ad somnum, beast!" Throwing my habd in his direction I snapped his neck putting a sleep spell on him. "J, look at me. You can't die. Take my blood." Biting into my wrist I held it out to him. 

He pushed my hand away. "Don't worry about me, sis." 

"You're my brother. I'm always going to worry. Now please drink!" 

He snagged my wrist before I could give him my blood. "Stop Raelyn. I already have vamp blood in my system." 

"What who's?" I blurted out a question. 

He lifted his gaze to mine. "Kol's. He gave it to me when I nearly died. He was trying to kill Davina until I stopped him." 

"So you're saying I just have to watch you die. Then you'll become a heretic like me?" I asked, sniffing through tears. 

My twin nodded yes. "Just snap my neck and then we can get out of here before he bites somebody else." 

"J, I…fine. I'll try to make it easy." Moving my hands to his neck, snapping it quickly where he fell into my lap. In a few short seconds he shot awake. 

"Ugh everything hurts!" He winced closing his eyes tightly. 

Raising myself to my feet I offered my hands to him. "You'll adjust once you feed. Let's get out of here." He held my habd when we vamped back to the compound. 

"Is she olay?" I asked dragging him into the bedroom with the others. 

Freya noticed us. "She's getting weaker. Did you find a cure?" 

"Unfortunately no." I slumped my shoulders in defeat looking at my brother. "Elijah, can you get my brother a blood bag?" 

"Of course." He vamped away and back handed it to him. "Who turned him exactly, you?" 

Jacob tears his bag slowly while drinking it. "Nope. Kol did…oh wow. Awesome." He opened his mouth and he gasped seeing his fangs come out. 

"Well worry about teaching you later, mate. Right now we have to save Camille." My husband squeezed my brother's shoulder. 

Cami attempts to sit up croaking out. "I want my wake to be at Rousseau's. I want it to be epic...An open bar and dancing, and no one cries, or I come back, and I poltergeist the hell out of…" 

Klaus raised his voice towards her. "Stop it! I will not entertain this kind of talk any longer." 

"Lucien’s bite killed Finn. I am in the same position as he was." She explains back. 

Shaking my head I vamped over to her bedside grasping her hand in mine. "No way in hell will you end up like him. I swear to you as your sire." 

Freya stood by her suit wearing brother frustrated that she couldn't find a way. "She only has a few hours left to live. Maybe we should just send her off the way she wants." 

"So you're giving up?" I began crying up at her. 

Elijah slumped his shoulders. "Raelyn, if there's no cure there's nothing we can do." 

"Bullshit Elijah!" Jumping up to my feet I vamped in front of his face. Tears were falling down my face and I had my fangs out. "I have consumed dark magic and lived. I have dropped you and your siblings on the floor with just one spell. I escaped me dying without killing my cousins I care for. So I refuse to think that there isn't another option we thought of!" 

"Raelyn…" Cami whispered with her breathing laboring out. 

Whipping my head around to her I was sobbing down at my friend and godmother. "Cami, you qsrw forced to turn with my blood. So I will save you from this." 

"Hold up. My sister's right. We haven't tried everything yet." Jacob entered the conversation. 

Klaus and everyone shifted their gaze over to him. "And what exactly would that be, Jacob Lane?" 

"We're siphons, remember. We can take magic from almost everything." He walked forward holding Cami's hand. 

Dropping my mouth open I covered it with my hands jumping around like a child. "Oh my God. Why didn't I see that earlier." 

"Can you help me, Rae?" He offered me his hand. 

Walking over to her bedside I removed his hand sending him a serious look. "No, J. I have to do this." 

"But I'm a heretic now-" 

I cut him short squeezing his shoulder with my other hand. "Yes but you're a newbie one. I can handle more than you right now. You can help us once we have taught you." 

"Camille, hang on just a little longer." Klaus came to my side. 

Placing one hand over the bite of her arm. I placed my other hand in mine with everyone watching us closely. "Magia tollux de terras. Magia tollux de terras…" 

"Ah Raelyn!" The bartender winced feeling my magic fighting her body. 

Clutching my eyes closed for a moment I peaked one open seeing the red mark begging to disappear. "Magia tollux de terras. Magia tollux de terras…" Finally it disappeared before I collapsed into Nik's waiting arms. 

"Woah, Rae." He lifted me up into his arms. 

Gripping his shirt he sat me down on the bed with Cami slowly sitting upright. "I'm fine, Nik…it worked then." 

"Thank you, Raelyn." She hugged me. 

Wrapping my arms around her I smiled into her shoulder. "I told you. I am a sire who will look out for her vampires." 

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[fieldofdaisiies]

elain x lucien | warnings: talk about post trauma and death | masterlist | ao3

“I have them too.” Lucien carefully walks into the living room bathed in moonlight in order to not scare Elain. His bare feet softly glide over the wooden floor, not wanting to make it squeak too loudly. He knows she uneasy, can feel it, he doesn’t want to cause her any more discomfort.

Lucien gently rests his hands atop the back of the couch, looking outside of the large windows and then down to his mate. Elain turns to him, her eyes as red and swollen as he remembers them from the last time he knocked at her door in the middle of the night finding her crying. This time he is surprised about the different location, to find her in the living room and not in her own room. But the dread he felt through the bond was exactly the same.

“The nightmares.”

Elain doesn’t answer immediately, she only looks at him until she reaches for his lower arm, curling her fingers gently around it. “Sit with me?”

The past week has flown by quickly. Lucien and Elain have taken many more walks, now often discovering more places where the grass started to peek through the melting snow. They have also talked a lot, about everything and anything — a lot about Elain‘s love for plants and flowers and everything she knows about them.

Lucien takes up her offer, rounding the couch, not letting his disappointment show when the warmth of her touch fades as his arm slips out of her fingers.

“Are you well?” Lucien asks when he sits down, brushing his hands down his sleeping pants to smooth them out,

Elain shrugs. “I think I am now.”

“Did you sleep here?” A boyish smile appears on Lucien’s lips. He leans back, crossing his arms behind his head and his eyes fall shut. Elain’s eyes follow him, every small movement, watching how his biceps flex, how his muscles ripple, how his lips curl.

“You are staring, my lady.”

Elain immediately averts her gaze, whipping her head away, looking outside the window in front of her at the dark garden.

“I fell asleep looking outside at the melting snow and the land entering the night,” she says in a rushed voice. “It was so peaceful, I didn’t mean to sleep here all night, though.”

He hums. “It‘s only a little after one in the morning, you can still catch a few hours of sleep in your bed.”

Elain begins to nod, but her gaze darkens, turning sombre. Her shoulders cave in the slightest bit and in a voice full of apprehension, she says, “Have you ever felt like you were losing yourself, falling without someone to catch you? Falling into an endless pit of darkness.”

continue on ao3

general Elucien tag list  @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop @aayo-whatt @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone @berryzxx @jules-writes-stories @bookishbroadwaybish @the-darkestminds @goldenmagnolias @isnotwhatyourethinking

[megatraven]

Meg!!! when you said Victor in your tags about the baby girl post, please tell me you did not mean Victor from HIFL😭😭. Because no omg that just. It reminds me of your post about your WIP of MC calling Hades baby girl!!! And the idea of Zeus calling MC that in the middle of a meeting😂.

But honestly??? When I think of babygirl, I think of Diego (HIFL), Lucien (SE), and honestly??? Hydra, just a little bit. His snake that is ‘yes man’ would nod and wrap around MC😭.

Anyways!! How are you Meg👀? I hope you’re doing good💙🥺. I think you said recently you were on a flight? I hope you’re doing well wherever you are, and is it al right if I ask why’d you fly? Just curious but it’s alright if you don’t want to say. I’m doing kinda alright. I have a cough and it’s been tough to get it to go away but I’ll be fine sooner or later lol.

ALSO!! My other ask about Eros (well the second one other than the headcannon one), I mentioned how would he feel if Ares ended up killing MC when he tried to awaken Hera, and I thought of something more sad. A few of your AU fics always include Alex or another LI in AFK holding MC in the throne room when she’s dying and I just imagine Eros being in such despair that he literally shouts at all the gods and goddesses and loses his temper on all of them, especially his father! His attitude comes back full force and I could just imagine them standing there like “O.O”. Some with sympathy and maybe guilt, but others with shock at how Aphrodites child is literally berating them lol.

Anyways, I hope you’re alright and have a good day💙💙💙!!!

HII SARAH!! Sorry it took a bit responding, my wifi signal has been so bad :( and YES I DID MEAN HAVENFALL VICTOR!!!! he's my babygirl and he's terrible and i love him 😂

but i do agree on the other three, especially hydra. he's true babygirl material for me

i'm doing okay! yes, i flew down to new jersey to visit my parents :) we're camping so i can't be online too much unfortunately. i'll be flying back home on august 1st i believe. i'm sorry to hear about your cough!!! i hope it goes away and that you feel better! i know how hard it can be with a cough that won't go away :(

AUGHHHH sarah i can picture that in my head so perfectly....

ahem excuse me i'm just going to post a fic real fast :]

[lucientelrunya]

Fic Writer Interview

Thank you @forerussake for tagging me <3

name/nicknames: on the internet I'm almost always Lucien Telrunya or Luci, a real life nickname is 'Angel' or 'Angely'. My real name doesn't have any short forms and I don't like it, I prefer Luci.

fandoms: Hmmm, currently I'm very deep into various C-Dramas, mostly DMBJ (the only one I've written for so far), but also Guardian, MDZS, L.O.R.D. Critical World, Tientsin Mystic. I also still like Stranger Things (when will I ever finish my fics for that, I wonder) or various video games like Final Fantasy VII, VIII or XII.

two shots?: I'm not sure if this means something that is divided into two chapters? Then: None. I tend to write long ass things, even though I really tried my hand at a few one-shots.

most popular multi-chapter fic: That would be my first ever tumblr-post that started 'Like a lonely house' and also my first fic posted to AO3. I was so surprised by all the reactions here on tumblr and also on AO3, it really encouraged me to write more.

actual worst part of writing: oooof. I don't really know. Guess it depends on the mood? Sometimes it's trying to connect two scenes that popped up in my head. Sometimes it's trying to put something that's playing inside my head on repeat into words. Sometimes it's getting started with writing at all. Or endings. Or summaries......

how do you choose your titles: By looking at poetry or lyrics and trying to find a line that resonates and just feels right. Sometimes it's easy ('Like a lonely house' was easy), most times it's really hard (it took me forever to find 'We go deeper than the ink beneath the skin of our tattoos' and then I wasn't sure if it was too long for a title, but it fit so perfectly that I didn't care in the end).

do you outline?: A little. I mostly have a vague idea what I want and then I see where that takes me. Or I have some scenes/things I want to happend and I need to write a story around them.

ideas you probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice?: The Hei Xiazi/Zhang Rishan Immortals AU (I really, really want to read that, but I don't think I could write it, I feel like I couldn't do Hei Xiazi justice). Probably the whole Fo Ye, Ba Ye and Rishan in a tomb losing sight, hearing and voice and having to find their way out of the tomb. I still love the idea, but it's such a nebulous concept, I don't even know what would happen. But maybe this year will surprise me, who knows. There was also an idea for a fic about Wen Ning (MDZS) getting turned back into a living person and having to navigate all the things that come with that again.

callouts @ me: Stop comparing yourself to others, I'd say ^^°°°

best writing traits: I have no idea?

spicy tangential opinion: Ummm... It is spicy to say I don't get many of the various AUs in which the characters are gender-swapped or otherwise so heavily changed that they barely resemble the original character and I just wonder why people don't just write original fiction? Back when I wrote a lot of originals with my RP-partner we always had certain actors in mind (mostly even in a certain role) and imagined our character to look like them.

tagging: @elletromil, @s1utspeare, @daydreamorama, @kholran only if you want to, of course :)

[citrusbunnies]

I posted 2,868 times in 2022

That's 2,868 more posts than 2021!

48 posts created (2%)

2,820 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mysdrym

@nenestansunsthings

@pacificwaternymph

@biggest-gaudiest-patronuses

@whaile

I tagged 480 of my posts in 2022

#world of warcraft - 70 posts

#warcraft - 42 posts

#skyrim - 38 posts

#overwatch - 23 posts

#dragonflight - 23 posts

#wrathion - 22 posts

#the elder scrolls - 20 posts

#tes - 18 posts

#goncharov - 17 posts

#sabellian - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 130 characters

#tbh idk how theydve done that in game format but that just goes into my opinion that while i adore this game and the replayability

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

all the tes games start with the player in prison because godd howard knows us well and knows what wierd shit yall mod in

3 notes - Posted December 6, 2022

#4

why is a good part of wow fics just porn i dont want to read porn i want more fics like of a feather by mysdrym yes this is me staring directly at you and telling you to read my favorite fic please it deserves so much love

4 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

#3

TOH SPOILERS

THE RUNES ALMOST WORKING OMFGGG

luz get therapy challenge (impossible)

OMFG OMFG OMFG IS HUNTER GETTING FKN POSSESED??????? THIS IS WILD

oh no luz thats a mood

SHES STAYING???????

HES BLEEDING GREEN OMFG OMFG

WHY ARE YOU RUNNING OFF HUNTER PLEASE

this is some detective shit luz

find a phone, saving kids from being lost and me from not being able to find my phone

OH MY GOD I THINK HES FULLY POSSESED WHYS HE TALKING LIKE THAT

THE GREEN STAIN OMFG OMFG IM LOSING MY MIND

FLAPJACK NO

OH MY GOD HES FKN POSSESED BY BELOS FUCK THAT IN ITS ENTIRETY

BELOS YOU MF GIVE HUNTER HIS BODY BACK

MY WIFI IS BEING GOD AWFUL IM GONNA RIOT

THE ANIMATIONNNN

FLAPJACK NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

HUNTER NOOOOOOO OMFG THE TITANS BLOOD

KICK ASS CARMILLA

well thats horrifying

PORTAL PORTAL PORTAL OMFG

IS HUNTER DEAD????????????

THEY KNOW HES A GRIMWALKER NOW OMFG

FLAPJACK NO OMFG HE SAVED HUNTER

FRIEND ASKED IF HUNTER IS GONNA BE DEPENDANT ON PALISMAN MAGIC AND NOW IM SCARED

IS SHE GOING IN??????

KICK ASS CARMILA

OH MY GOD IM TERRIFIED

STG IF SHE STAYS

See the full post

14 notes - Posted October 15, 2022

#2

how do yall keep finding these rad skyrim mods im on se but not anniversary edition i tried to find auri on the mods menu in there i dont see her ive got lucien and inigo but kaidan isnt to my personal taste as a follower and i keep seeing people with these super cool graphics and the coolest armor but im a modding noob and dont even know where to start looking for good mods esp ones that arent viruses dont crash my game and i like TwT

27 notes - Posted December 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

aaaaaaa @mysdrym ty ty ty for the tag!!! tag 10 ppl you want to know more abt!!

relationship status: single TwT

fave color: green!!!

3 fave foods: mac and cheese casserole, chicken cutlets, peach cobbler!

song stuck in my head: nothing rn actually but most recent was invincible yeah the one from wow to absolutely no ones suprise

last song i listened to: w.i t.c.h. by devon cole

last thing i googled: how to do the round er up quest from wotlk

time: 8:46

dream trip: hmmmm probably ireland ive heard its gorgeous

anything i want: a break TwT taking an ap class was a mistake lmao @biggest-gaudiest-patronuses @bigb-divorce-speedrun @bucket-of-amethyst @chaotic-archaeologist @dark-lady-sylvanas @esperanta-dragon @evilwizard @floweroflaurelin @jaakkola @medivhthecorrupted

29 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

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