#i wanted feyre to have a female magic teacher so bad

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

Tbh a fun way to go about it would be feyre just... making her own set of wings? Like getting the basic musculature right and then optimising them for her and her fighting style. Like, weird that Feyre (and tamlin) can do full on self customisation and that's never explored properly. She could make them cute! And fit her!

that would’ve been so cool😭😭 uh oh, new au forming

ok so imagine if feyre had an actual magic teacher, preferably female (not amren), her powers are getting explored and trained court by court. getting to her dawn court powers (that’s thesan court right? i always get dawn and day mixed) specifically her healing ones. now her magic teacher (let’s call her asena, who’s a character i definitely made up just now) assigns feyre books on the species of prythian, fae, faeries (i hate the term lesser fae so i call them faeries), animals, and beast alike, to learn how each of their bodily systems work so she knows how to heal (and kill, i spend nights thinking on the carnage feyre could wreck on someone’s body using her dawn court powers, healers are technically manipulating someone’s internal system. they can heal but they can also hurt. yrene, my love). anyways, she gets the idea to fly and just uses her books of anatomy to make her own, a literal one of kind set of wings.

[munsons-hellfire]

Chaos: Prologue

SUMMARY: Evangeline did the only thing she knew she could. She ran. Upon leaving her home court, she crash lands into the Spring Court, hoping to find a better home.

PAIRINGS: Evangeline Nightbane x Lucien Vanserra (Currently), & Evangeline Nightbane x Cassian (Eventually)

CONTENT WARNING: MFW, mentions of trauma.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello everyone this is the second original character work that I will be writing. When I came up with this idea I only saw it as an original character storyline. Evangeline is somewhat based of a character I made at one point for a Steve Rogers fic that I used to have up on my wattpad account. On top of that this story will follow the first three books, Silver Flames will be a definite AU and will most likely only include Feyre's pregnancy line. Nesta will be mated to Mor in this version. Also I wanted to try writing in first person pov so that story will be in first person and eventually it'll switch back and forth between Evie and Cassian but as of right now it'll be Evie's pov.

WORD COUNT: 3.7K

Chapter 1

The earliest memory I have is of Helion teaching me how to use my wings. I could conjure them through my magic, I didn’t understand how any of it worked, and Helion probably wasn’t the greatest teacher to be teaching me but he was better than my parents. Helion was more of a real father to me than my actual father had been. My mother and father had always told me that I was the first and only child they’d ever conceived, but I never believed them.

I don’t think Helion believed them either. But what could he do, what could I do? There were key reasons that I didn’t believe I was their child. I could conjure wings firstly, I had black hair and purple eyes, they’d often glow brighter when I used my powers. The Mother had gifted me with three separate powers. Two of them I adored more than anything, the other I wish was never gifted to me.

I have the ability to open portals, a fun one really except when I’d open portals to places I probably shouldn’t be even looking at. Next I learned that I can create any type of weapon𑁋shields included𑁋they are created through telekinetic energy that runs through me. And lastly I can read the minds of those around me. I’m not a Daemati, I’m sure it’d be a lot cooler than everyone’s constant thoughts pressing down on my own mind.

Being able to read every single thought as I pass by any Fae is insufferable. As a child it wasn’t so bad. I was focused on other stuff that would block out the incessant thoughts. I also didn’t understand my powers. I still don’t understand how any of them work, really, but I’ve managed to attempt to control two of the three at least for the time being. Being able to read everyone’s thoughts was truly a destructive power.

That’s how I found myself right now. I had heard my father and mother’s conversation, but I also heard their thoughts. They were going to hand me over to Amarantha, the High Queen of Prythian. I never liked the female, my parents spoke so highly of her. I didn’t understand how they were still in Helion’s Court. The only thing I knew that I could do was run, so that’s what I did.

Except I didn’t think it through so clearly. I was falling through the sky, trying to summon my wings. The portal I had opened, well it had decided to drop me from the sky. I was plummeting towards my death. This was how I would die. I, Evangeline Nightbane, would make contact with the ground and die. For a moment it seemed like an ok death, a great way to escape my parents before they’d even have a chance to hand me over to that hag Under the Mountain.

My eyes were closed, I couldn’t force them open if I tried to. I knew I was getting closer to the grassy lands. I knew my time was coming to an end soon enough. A gasp left my mouth, I didn’t feel the impact of the ground. Instead I felt arms tighten around my body. Then his thoughts hit me.

“Such a beautiful female.” He had thought to himself. I didn’t want to be hearing his thoughts, I didn’t want to hear how beautiful he thought I was. How he was thrilled he had caught me in time.

Taking in a breath of air I finally opened my eyes. I turned my head slightly, lifted my eyes and saw the male that had caught me in his arms. He had long red hair, his golden-brown skin really complemented his red hair. And his eyes, oh his eyes were so beautiful. They were covered under a fox mask, one eye is russet, and the other eye is gold. Those beautiful eyes stared back at me.

I had heard what Amarantha had done to the Spring Court, that’s how I knew where I was. His thoughts were weakened just like everyone else's had been, and it had been nice, a little bit peaceful if I’m being honest. But I could still hear all the thoughts. His and the High Lord’s were no different. I pulled myself from his grasp and hopped down on the grass, turning to look at the two males before I gave a bow.

My parents always told me that it was my duty to bow to those who were higher on the social chain than us. They were somewhat high on said chain but I was still taught to act a certain way, especially when we’d visit Beron Vanserra and his family. I didn’t understand why my parents weren’t trapped Under the Mountain like the others had been. Though they were probably conspiring with the High Queen and that’s why they had so much freedom.

I really wouldn’t put it past them, not with the things they’d managed to do to me as a child. I hate them, still do, so I’m happy to be here so long as the High Lord accepts my plea for his protection. I stood from my bow and glanced between the two males. They weren’t that far from their horses that I assumed they’d rode out here.

“Who are you?” The blond male questioned, coming to stand directly in front of me.

“Evangeline Nightbane, my Lord. I apologize, I didn’t mean to open a portal here. I was just trying to escape my parents. They were going to take me to the High Queen, I-I didn’t know what to do so I ran.”

Both males exchanged a glance with each other, their eyes fell back on me as I stood awkwardly in front of them waiting for them to either take me in or turn me away. I’m sure they were staring at my appearance. My black hair was a mess, dirt surly covered my face, and probably my neck, chest, and arms. I was wearing a gold dress that had been ripped at the bottom.

The dress I’d been wearing still hugged my body perfectly even if it was torn. I’m sure they could tell that I had come from the Day Court. Though it was lonely in that Court with everyone being trapped Under the Mountain. I was curious if they knew about who I was. I know that rumors had spread around Prythian about someone with my abilities existing. My parents had confirmed it to Amarantha, and she wanted to take my powers from me, she wanted to kill me for them. I knew it deep in my bones.

“Please, can I seek refuge here just until I figure out how to disappear for good.” I asked, hope, I’m sure was evident in my eyes.

“Such pretty eyes.” His thoughts had run into me again. Unknowingly I glared at the red head male.

“Of course you can stay, Evangeline.” The High Lord had finally spoken, his words were soft but stern. He held his hand out to me. I looked down at his hand hesitant to shake it, then I glanced up at his green eyes beneath the gold mask that covered his face. It was odd to see masks over their faces.

“Thank you…” I paused, realizing that I didn’t even know what to call him. I didn’t really know much about the other High Lord's my parents had neglected to inform me about. So really Helion and Beron Vanserra were the only ones I truly knew about. I didn’t even want to know the High Lord of Autumn.

He would make my life a living hell. I had heard that he had already been discussing marriage to one of his sons, Eris, I think. But then I guess Amarantha offered my parents something better. Or maybe she’d steal my powers and hand me over to the Autumn Court. Either way I knew I had to leave.

“Tamlin,” He said, green eyes still staring at me. “This is my emissary Lucien Vanserra.” I had shook Tamlin’s hand but hesitated with the red head male now known as Lucien, and a Vanserra at that.

“Vanserra?” I choked out, terrified of what he might do.

I think they could see the look evident on my face because Tamlin was the first to take action. “He won’t hurt you.” His voice was soft as he spoke to me.

I watched the two males turn and walk back towards their horses. They were speaking with each other but I wasn’t bothered enough to listen to their discussion. I watched them climb onto their horses, releasing a sigh, I followed behind them. I think once I was settled into the Spring Court I’d need to come out and explore. It was such a beautiful place and I didn’t want to be held up somewhere I didn’t know much about.

I walked up to the males, Lucien was holding his hand out for me to take. I was hesitating, trying to decide if it would be better to ride with Lucien or just walk. Tamlin was wondering why I wasn’t taking his friend’s hand and getting on the horse. Meanwhile Lucien was wondering what had happened to me for me to be this hesitant to accept his hand. In truth his father was Beron, and he was an asshole and despite what Tamlin had said I didn’t know if he could be trusted.

I tried to ignore their thoughts the best I could. Then I walked away from Lucien, ignoring him as I walked over to Tamlin. The High Lord held his hand out to me, I grasped a hold of his hand and climbed up onto the horse. I caught Tamlin glancing at Lucien, I took a chance and glanced at the other male to see a flustered look on his face as he stared at me. His thoughts were slightly louder than they had been. It was starting to give me a headache.

“I can hear your thoughts by the way.” I said, as the two steads took off through the grassy fields. “Not as loud as they used to be, but still.” I mumbled that last part hoping neither male had heard me but I wasn’t so sure. I had my hands wrapped around Tamlin’s waist and my head rested on his back. I was exhausted to say the least. I’d been running for at least a day and a half and this was the first time I could actually catch a breather.

Somewhere on the journey back I knew I had fallen asleep. I was uninterested in opening my eyes to see why we’d stopped moving. But then I felt someone wrap their arms around me and carry me. The arms were familiar, I knew I was in Lucien’s arms. His chest was so firm, and for some reason I wanted to see more of him. I felt a soft bed underneath my back, so I finally opened my eyes.

I turned slightly to look at Lucien who had been staring down at me. He had a soft look in his eyes as he gazed over me. His thoughts were all over the place, I didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Though some part of me felt that it was in fact because of me. I swear at some point I’d seen lust in his russet eye. But I chose to ignore it.

“You’ll be safe here. We’ll make sure that Amarantha doesn’t find you.” He whispered. I couldn’t help the smile that tugged on my lips.

“Thank you.” I sighed contentedly while Lucien started to back away from the bed he’d placed me on. His eyes were still on me though.

“Dinner will be in a few hours. Tamlin expects you to join us.”

“Will you be the one to get me?” I asked, a devious smirk replacing the smile on my lips as I stared at the male before me. It’s funny that Lucien was thinking of my beauty when he held me in his arms while Tamlin had been concerned about where I’d come from. I knew then and there that I’d be able to have some fun with the male, and I’m sure he’d enjoy it just as much.

“If it’s what you desire, then yes, I’ll be back here in a few hours to bring you to dinner.”

“Wonderful.” I sent a nod his way, then turned on my side and closed my eyes waiting for him to leave my newly appointed room. I figured it would be good to get some more sleep. As I drifted off to sleep I started to hope that maybe this could be my home for good.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

I’m awake now, I think I only got an hour of sleep. Something rustled outside the window which prompted me to wake. I think I’ve been standing by the window looking out of it for some time now. When I heard the noise my first thought was that my parents had found me and that they were coming to take me home. I couldn’t shake the feeling that was settling in the pit of my stomach. So I backed away from the window and closed it hoping no one could see into it.

I needed to move the bed away from the window, it was too close for my liking. If my parents were truly here they could break into the window and take me away. I pulled a piece of rope from my pocket that was on my dress. I still had yet to change out of it. With the string I pulled my hair back and proceeded to tie it so it was out of my way while I moved the bed to the other side of the room.

I didn’t know how much time had passed, suddenly the door was open and Lucien was standing in the open door way. “What are you doing, Evangeline?” The way he had said my name had sparked something inside me.

“I’m just moving my bed.” I put my focus back on the bed and continued to move it to the other side of the room. I could tell that Lucien was curious. He didn’t need to think it for me to see it evident on his face when I briefly looked at him.

“Why exactly are you moving the bed?” He was so serious as he had asked the question.

I sighed, pulled away from the bed and glared at the male. I understand that he wanted to know but I wasn’t so sure I could trust him yet. He was a Vanserra after all. Maybe I could tell him about this feeling I had.

“I heard a noise outside my window. I was afraid that it was my parents.” The fear was evident in my voice. This had caught Lucien’s attention. I now wished I had just kept my mouth shut. I was good at that, keeping quiet and listening to everything.

“I’m sure it was just an animal.” Of course he would think that. And maybe he was right, maybe my mind was playing tricks on me but I wasn’t taking a chance.

“Why are you here anyway?” I asked, shifting the conversation to something else. I needed to move on from the topic. Thinking about the possibility of my parents finding me was starting to bring the headache back.

“Dinner is ready. I would advise you to change into something clean as well as clean up your appearance.”

I held my hand down by my side, attempting to control the telekinetic energy buzzing around inside me.

“Fantastic.” I paused, taking in a deep breath before exhaling it. “If you’ll be so kind as to wait outside so I can get changed that would be much appreciated, Lucien.”

The male released a small growl, I only smirked and walked over to the armoire. It was closest to the door. I could move it in front of the door but then my chances of escape would be slim. So I’d keep it where it stood. Opening the door I saw different shades of dresses. I settled on one that was a light green, pink flowers rested at the top of the dress.

So far I had only ever worn Day Court colors, I was looking forward to being able to wear Spring Court colors. Walking over to the sink I turned the water on and started to wash my skin off so I looked more presentable. Lucien had a point, and I needed to look my best if I truly wanted to stay here. I pulled my black locks back and separated my hair in half to braid it. Finally I changed into the dress I had picked out.

I took a final look in the mirror and for the first time in a really long time I believed that I could be happy here. Walking back out to the bedroom I see the door is now closed. I could hear his thoughts, and again he was so curious about who I was. My hand found the door handle and I pulled it open. Lucien turned, smirked, and led me down the hallway towards the dining area.

The High Lord was already seated at the head of the table. Lucien walked over to a chair and pulled it out for me. I thanked him as I sat in the chair. Lucien walked around and sat down across from me. I glanced down at the food, I knew I should eat the meat, and veggies but for the life of me I didn’t know if I had an appetite to hold anything down.

“Evangeline.” Tamlin was the first to speak since the dinner had started. His green eyes were plastered on me. I reached for the wine that was sitting next to my food. After taking a gulp of the wine I pulled it away from my lips and stared back at the High Lord.

“Please, call me Evie.” Tamlin gave a nod of his head, his blond locks following his movement. I looked to Lucien who also sent me a nod.

“Evie.” Tamlin corrected himself before continuing. “You fell from a portal. How is that possible?”

“Portals… Yeah. That’s one of my abilities.” I started to swirl the wine around afraid of where this conversation would go. Lucien definitely was uncomfortable with the direction the question was heading.

“One of them?” He proceeded to ask.

“Yes, one of them.” I could tell that he wanted to know more about what I could do. Maybe he thought that I’d be useful to him in the future. Maybe he’d turn around and use me against Amarantha. I held my breath hoping he’d move on to ask me something else.

“You said you were running from your parents, why?” This question was a lot harsher than I had thought it would be.

I closed my hand and pushed my nails into the skin of my palm. This male whom I’d met only a few hours ago was already trying to learn everything about me. This is not what I had in mind when I had asked for refuge. I could feel the tears threatening to fall down my face.

“They hurt me in ways parents should never do. If I’d stayed any longer with them they would’ve given me over to Amarantha who would’ve killed me for my powers. Or they likely would’ve accepted Beron’s proposal to have me marry his eldest son Eris. Neither of those options worked for me. So I did the only thing I knew I could do, I ran. That is why I am here, High Lord.”

I slammed my hands on the table and stood up pushing the chair back. Before either male could object I stormed out of the room heading back to my room. The door slammed behind me and I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about any of this, eventually the longer I’m here Tamlin and Lucien will start to ask more questions.

I’m not ready to talk about what my parents did to me. I don’t want to talk about what they would’ve done had I still been there. I just want to move on from it. Wiping the tears that had managed to fly down my face I pull back from the mirror and walk out of my room. Then I moved down the hallway. However I came to a quick stop when I heard another voice. Without thinking I took a step into the room.

There was a male in the room with his back to me. He had short black hair. It was the same color as mine. All my life I hadn’t seen anyone else with black hair like his. He stood tall as he talked to Tamlin who seemed to have an annoyed look on his face. His thoughts confirmed that he was annoyed with the male. Lucien seemed as though he didn’t want to be here. But he was the first to notice my appearance.

He stands up quickly, his eyes on me as he walks over to me. His hand reaches for my elbow and he stands in front of me. The other male turns around, he has violet eyes. Almost the same shade as mine, only darker.

“Who are you hiding, Lucien?” He questioned. I wanted to know who he was just as much as he wanted to know who I was. His thoughts were quieter than Lucien and Tamlin’s. But I knew he could sense something. His thoughts were giving him away. I moved past Lucien to get a better look at the male, it happened so quickly.

We all watched as he gasped suddenly. His face had gone pale, like he’d seen a ghost from his past. Then he was gone. He just disappeared. Now I was even more confused than before.

“Who was that?” I asked, stepping towards Tamlin.

“That was Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court.”

[mmvalentine]

prompt request for part 2 of your utm fic? pretty please? :)

NONNIE I ALMOST SAID NO hahaha honestly @asteria-of-mars is cooking up some WILD dark!Rhys and if you're looking to not know if you're turned on or horrified I can recommend her fic Undone. She is better at this than me. But okay I'll give this a little whirl just for you, because your please was so pretty.

Fuck You, Feyre Darling Pt 2 (Mercy)

Read Part 1

Guilty.

That's all that was swirling around in my head for the next two days: guilty, guilty, guilty. I was a bad person, I was a cheater, I was so full of shame I could have choked on it.

But then Rhysand appeared in the same corner of my cell that he always did, and I had a better idea of where to place my anger.

"You fucking prick," I spat at him. He just raised his eyebrows.

"Dear me," he said. "And just what have I done to raise your ire today?"

"You made me cheat on Tamlin," I said, knowing full well that was neither true nor fair.

"I didn't," Rhys said mildly, flicking a speck of lint off his lapel.

"You did," I snapped. I stepped up to him. "You and your fucking mind tricks." My chin jerked up to stare into his eyes. Most powerful High Lord in all of Prythian? I didn't give a damn.

"I assure you, I don't need mind tricks to coax females into my bed," Rhys said, and his unaffected air was infuriating.

"You forced me," I ground out. "Admit it."

"Admit something that's not true?"

"Admit it!"

"Why Feyre?"

"Because!" I yelled. "If I wanted it then I'm a terrible person and I'm here in this horrible place to save Tamlin only to find that I don't deserve him anyway." My voice broke on the last word, and to my horror, a sob cracked in my chest.

Not again, I thought. I couldn't bear the thought of breaking down in front of Rhys, not again. He already had so much of me.

But Rhys just stood there a moment, with his hands in his pockets. Then he said, "Fine," and then the world blurred and we were back in his room.

Rhys pushed me back onto the bed, and I fell, startled.

"So what, Feyre?" he asked. I realised with shock that he was angry. "What do you want?"

Despite the darkness of the room, his violet eyes seemed to glow brighter than ever.

"Do you want me to have forced you, so you don't have to feel guilty? Or do you want to be forced because you deserve to be punished?"

Rhys pulled his jacket off and threw it onto a chair by the wall. I shrank back against the headboard, suddenly nervous.

"Because see now, I may be a whore but I'll not have some mortal questioning my honour." He knelt up on the bed in front of me, and rolled up his sleeves.

"However, if you were after a punishment," he paused, and removed his belt to fold it in his hand. Then he gave me a grin that was all teeth and no smile at all. "You only had to ask."

The anger still coiled in his voice, and now, now I was scared of him.

I didn't know what I was expecting- I had goaded him, but not thought through what would happen next. And now here we were, back in his room, and I couldn't tell where my fear stopped and my anticipation began.

What I did know is that the heaviness of the shame in my limbs had been replaced by adrenaline and that was a trade I was only too happy to make.

"Well?" Rhys demanded. "Is the cruel little creature here to repent for her sins?

And Cauldron damn me to the deepest depths of hell, my lips parted and I whispered, "yes."

"Good," Rhys snarled, and then quick as lightning he had grabbed my ankle and jerked me back down the bed. Disappeared my clothes by magic, rolled me over onto my stomach, where I tried to drag myself away with my hands but he yanked me back by the hips and slapped me hard across the ass.

I gasped, as pain burst before my eyes. I forgot everything, I knew nothing at all expect for the flash of sensation, and then a flooding peace. Yes. This is what I deserved. Rhys buckled his belt around my ankles.

"Is this what you wanted?" Rhys hissed in my ear. I hadn't noticed him moving closer.

"Yes," I whispered. Rhys spanked me a second time, and that white hot flash popped in my vision again.

"Is this what you needed, you wicked mortal thing?"

"Yes," I said again, and it came out as a moan.

"Beg me," Rhys commanded. He landed three more stinging slaps, and I couldn't help but gasp at each one. "Beg me for mercy."

He smacked me once more, and leaned down to my ear again. "Beg me, and I will deny you."

And I would never know how to admit this out loud, not to Rhys, not to Tamlin, not to anyone. But it was exactly what I craved.

So I pushed my hips up toward Rhys, turned my face to the side, and breathed, "Mercy."

"No," Rhys replied coldly, and then I was spanked on the top of my ass, on the join to my thigh on either side, and then once right over my bare pussy.

The shock of the last had my fingers curling in the sheets. It was so unexpected that at first my legs clenched together automatically- but then as the pain faded it was replaced by a spreading heat and my muscles relaxed completely.

The next touch was a rub of his hand over my reddened backside and down between my legs, and where he had slapped me my skin was so sensitive I shook hard under his fingers.

"And now what, Feyre darling?" Rhys asked. His voice was low and dangerous. I rode the edge of pain and fear and pleasure, and couldn't form words. When Rhys stroked his hand down me again, I realised I was thoroughly wet from being spanked.

"Do you need to be fucked now?" he crooned.

"Yes," I said, and even though he wasn't touching me at all now, my breaths came in pants.

"Do you need to be pounded so hard it feels like you're not in control?" Rhys asked me.

"Yes," I repeated, not able to say any more than that for the shame of it.

"Beg me again," Rhys said.

"Please," I whimpered. "Mercy."

Rhys's fingers slipped back between my legs, finding my clit and rubbing tight, fast circles into it. My hips bucked at the suddenness of the motion, and then the pleasure began to pool. I wanted to push my knees apart on the bed to get closer to his touch, but his belt still bound by ankles together. I arched my back instead, and Rhys's steady rhythm had me careening toward my orgasm faster than I thought possible.

"Rhys," I moaned.

"Yes Feyre?" he said. "Are you going to come?"

"Yes, oh gods, yes," I said, and my toes curled as my climax crested-

And then Rhys pulled his hand away and slapped me across the backside instead.

I let out a frustrated groan, and Rhys purred, "Again."

It took me a moment to figure out what he wanted. Then, "please," I begged. "Mercy."

Rhys's fingers returned, but this time he was sliding them into me and moving infuriatingly slowly. I rocked my hips back and forth on his hand, trying to build his pace. It was almost enough.

"Please," I said again. Breathlessly. Desperately. "Please."

Rhys's fingers sped up and curled to that spot inside me, and then I was chasing my climax again. My head spun, then buzzed as I found-

Nothing. Rhys's fingers slipped out of me and I was spanked again, on the other side, and hot tears sprang to my eyes. A combination of the sudden pain and the sharper frustration.

"Please Rhys!" I cried out. "Please, please, mercy, please."

Rhys's voice in my ear, one more time. "Do you deserve it?" he asked. "Do you deserve pleasure?"

"No," I whispered.

"That's right," he replied. And then sank his cock deep inside me nonetheless.

Rhys was not gentle, Rhys did not give me time to acclimatise. Just pushed inside my already soaking pussy and fucked me hard with my ankles tied the entire time. As wound up as I was, he had barely gotten started when my orgasm slammed into me. I came soundlessly on his cock, tears blocking my throat, my lips mouthing his name into the sheets.

Once my high had subsided, Rhys pulled out, removed the belt from my ankles, and turned my over on my back. I was so wrung out I barely registered the movement. And then with a shocking gentleness, he came back to me. Pulled my legs around his waist and slid inside me again- but this time moved with a rolling consistency that had me building up again, coasting on the brink of pleasure rather than screaming toward it, and when this orgasm came I was in the middle of it before I had known it'd begun.

My back arched up into Rhys's arms and he pressed kisses down my sternum as I came, and then just when I thought I'd start coming down his hips got faster and his own release triggered a new wave for me, too. I held on to him as he shuddered into me, and it wasn't until he had rolled onto his back and pulled me into his chest that I realised he had stopped punishing me.

"Rhys?" I asked softly.

"Mm?"

"Am I a bad person?"

Rhys sighed into the dark, and when he spoke he did not sound like his usual, arrogant self. He just sounded tired.

"No Feyre," he said, "you're not a bad person."

"I'm betraying someone I love," I argued.

"We're Under the Mountain, now," Rhys said. "We're only just surviving. And here, that is enough.”

We lay there for a while longer, until I thought I could almost fall asleep there in the High Lord's arms. What an absurd thought.

"I'm ready to go back to my cell now," I whispered.

"In the morning," was all Rhys said, and then he turned us and tugged me back against his chest facing away from him. He wrapped his arms around me, and I gave in. After all, there would be plenty of time to feel bad about it all if we survived at all. And maybe that was a mercy I could grant myself.

****

Eeee stop making me go UTM anons, it's toooo sad I'm gonna leave this dark edgy shit to Liz now and go back to my palace of fluff 🥺🥺

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[imperiousasdawn-blog]

Aurora Borealis ☆ Chapter 2

A/N: thank you guys so much for your sweet comments on chapter 1! knowing that y’all liked it definitely motivated me to write this faster. so, without further ado…here is chapter 2! 

Healing, Cassian soon realizes, is more difficult than any battle he has ever fought. He’s been hurt before, of course. The first War wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, and Cassian has had his fair share of gruesome injuries- after all, a bastard is a bastard, and the leaders of the Illyrian camps he grew up in made sure to remind him of that frequently and painfully. This, though, this is unlike any recovery he has ever been through.

Gods, it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

Still, he grits his teeth and squares his screaming shoulders and smiles at his brothers. He lives, lives for his absent Lady. Lives for his grieving Lord. Lives for his newly Made-

Well. He doesn’t quite know what Nesta is to him. Not his friend, obviously. Nesta can barely stand being in the same room as him, much less having a two minute conversation that isn’t comprised of taunts and barbs aimed to sting. Even so, she’s no enemy. Nesta Archeron is a bold, vicious question mark haunting Cassian’s mind. She is somewhere in the middle.

Cassian isn’t sure how to handle that. He sees the world in black and white- friend or foe, good or bad, right or wrong. Nesta, on the other hand, is as grey as those icy eyes of hers, and it drives the Illyrian absolutely mad. He wants to play with her, to poke and prod and push at her until she materializes solid in his life, frost made flesh. He wants to know her, to really know her, to learn what makes her smile and cry and scream.

Yes, he most definitely wants to know what makes her scream. He’s pretty sure that if she gave him half an hour with his mouth, he could find out.

Time, Cassian decides, is one hell of a bitch. Time is clever, and cruel, and thoroughly untouchable. Much like someone else Cassian knows, come to think about it.

His wings belong to time. Cassian has become a slave to the hourglass standing tall and proud on his desk. He calls out a prayer to every grain of sand that falls- pleasepleaseplease give them back- but nothing seems to come of it. He wonders if he is pathetic, like Nesta said. He feels pretty damn pathetic.

“Still sulking?” Cassian is always surprised by how clear Nesta’s voice is. It sounds like bells. “Or have you finally decided to grow up and move on with your meaningless life?”

“Sweetheart. Always a pleasure,” Cassian grates, slowly shifting in his chair to face the female standing in his doorway. She’s wearing a ditsy, simpering smile that, for a split second, reminds him of Ianthe. “If you’re here to beg me to bed you, I’m afraid the medics say I can’t engage in any…strenuous activity for another few weeks. Don’t be too disappointed.”

Nesta curls her lip, faux-smile gone. “I’d sooner bed an Attor,” she says icily. Cassian raises an eyebrow.

“I see Rhysand has been giving you some lessons on all of the creatures our fine realm has to offer,” he says. “I hope you’ve been taking notes. ”

Nesta narrows her eyes, stepping closer to Cassian, and the Illyrian feels a thrill in his stomach when the female stops in front of his chair. “Get up,” she says, and the sheer authority in her voice startles Cassian into following her command. He towers over her, even with her new Fae height, and Cassian can’t help but think about how perfectly her head would fit tucked under his chin. “Rhysand,” she begins, somehow making the name sound like a curse, “has decided that you are to train me. Why he wants some mangled oaf to be my teacher, I’m not sure, but he made it very clear that his order is non negotiable.”

Cassian furrows his eyebrows. He’s doing better, yes, but he’s not even close to recovered, and the muscles in his back scream and protest with every move he makes. It would make more sense for Az or Rhys to train her; they, at least, could spar with her, demonstrate moves properly. “And Elain?” he asks, looking down at Nesta. She’s still so deliciously close to him, her scent- warm and heady, so at odds with her personality- wafting up in a way that makes Cassian want to bury his nose in her neck.

Nesta’s scowl deepens. “Elain, apparently, will be training with Azriel. When he’s not doing reconnaissance in the Spring Court.”

So, Azriel is available for training. Cassian, it seems, needs to have a little chat with his High Lord. “I see.”

Nesta scans the Illyrian, dragging her gaze across his bandaged wings before returning to his face with a sniff. “You need to bathe. You reek of rot.” With that, she turns around and leaves Cassian with only the ghost of her scent in the air.

Cassian finds Rhysand in the study. His brother radiates sheer exhaustion; even the sharp crackle of his magic in the air seems tired, subdued. It kills Rhysand to know that his mate is back in that suffocating spring. Feyre knows what she’s doing, she can take care of herself, but Cassian knows that if he could, Rhys would tear apart the entire Spring Court to get her back.

Cassian would too.

“Brother,” he says mildly. Rhysand looks up from the map he is studying, his skin pale.

“Cassian,” he says. “How are your wings?”

Cass attempts a nonchalant shrug, ignoring the jolt of pain that runs down his back. “Fine. The medics say that the tissue will heal, but they,” he sucks in a breath, “they don’t think I’ll be able to fly again. It’s fine, I’m…” He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. Rhysand understands, understands how deep the loss hits him, understands that Cassian will never be whole again, even if they’ve managed to stitch him up. Cassian clears his throat, the air in the room suddenly far too thin. “Why Nesta?” he asks. There’s no point beating around the bush; his brother is no fool, and despite popular belief, nor is Cassian. “You know that Azriel would do better.” Rhysand makes to object, but Cassian continues, “I’m weak, Rhys. Don’t try to disagree, you know that I am. And if we’re being honest-“ Cassian stops, swallowing hard. “If we’re being honest, you need to find a new Commander. I’m useless. I’m only going to bring the Circle down.”

The look of pure shock and pain in Rhysand’s eyes is enough to knock the air out of Cassian’s lungs. “No, Cassian,” his friend, his brother, says, rising. “No. I will not replace you, what are you talking about?”

“How the hell am I supposed to command your armies when I can barely lace my boots without help, Rhys?”

“You’ll heal-“

“Don’t you get it?” He’s shouting now, all the anger and desperation and fear he’s been trying to hold back finally unleashing. “That commander, that man you think I still am- he’s gone, Rhysand!”

“Stop.”  Rhys’s voice shakes the very foundation of the house as darkness floods the room. When the blackness clears, he is standing in front of Cassian, his violet eyes drawn and tired. “You’re right here, Cassian,” Rhys says softly, gripping his brother’s arm. “You never left. Wings or no wings, you’re the best fighter in Prythian. So please, don’t stop fighting. Not now.”

Cassian closes his eyes. If he tries hard enough, he can pretend that Hybern never happened. He can pretend he was the same person he was two months ago, bold and reckless and alive. When he opens his eyes, all he feels is exhaustion. “Ok,” Cassian says finally, and Gods, he’s so tired. “Ok, Rhys.”

Cassian has two types of nightmares: the type where he’s back in Hybern, wings shredded, watching Nesta get shoved into the Cauldron, and the type where he’s suspended from the ceiling, forced to watch Amarantha torture his family one by one. Tonight, Nesta is in that horrible pit, screaming as Amarantha drags a sharp, crimson nail over her exposed stomach. Jurian’s eye bobs on her finger, that horrible pupil dilated and hungry. “Look at you,” the redhead croons into Nesta’s skin, tongue darting out to lap at the blood that pools on Nesta’s abdomen. “Aren’t you just delectable?” Cassian is frozen, he’s frozen, and he’s screaming and helpless and-

“Wake UP! ” Cassian snaps awake, panting and drenched in cold sweat, and she’s there, it’s Nesta, and she’s whole and unmarked and perfect.

“Nesta,” he breathes, letting his head drop as he gulps down air. She’s okay, he reminds himself. She’s okay.

“Yes,” she says, irritated. “You were screaming.”

“Oh.”

“Yes,” she says again, albeit with slightly less venom. “So.”

Cassian looks up at her, soft and rumpled in her sleeping garments, and is struck with an overwhelming fondness. Her hair is tangled, as if she’s been tossing and turning, and Cassian is suddenly struck by how tired she looks. “You weren’t sleeping,” Cassian says, and it isn’t a question.

“What I do at night is none of your business,” Nesta replies coldly, but Cassian ignores her.

“When did you last get a good night’s sleep?”

“When did you?”

They’re at a stalemate, then, hazel eyes on grey. Neither of them will back down first, that, at least, and the thought is almost reassuring. “Well,” Cassian finally says, “If neither of us are going to sleep, we might as well start training now.” This, he notes with pleasure, manages to surprise Nesta.

“What?” she asks, startled. “Don’t be ridi- it’s three in the morning, Cassian.” Cassian swallows hard at the sound of his name on her tongue.

“Yes, it is,” he says. “Now, I’m going to get out of bed, and it’s my duty as a gentleman-” he pauses, smirking at her predictable scoff- “to warn you that I sleep naked. So unless that’s something you want to see, I advise you to put on some proper clothes and meet me on the roof in ten minutes.”

The female steels her jaw, giving Cassian one last scathing look before stalking out. “Prick,” she hisses, and Cassian is reminded so powerfully of Feyre that he can’t help but smile as he heaves his aching body out of bed and pulls on some leggings. He steps to the balcony, lets the moonlight wash over his face, his broken wings.

“Your sister is a menace, Cursebreaker,” Cassian says to the stars, and he can almost see Feyre’s shit eating smirk. The youngest Archeron has always been too clever for her own good when it comes to everybody’s relationships but her own. For a quiet moment, he closes his eyes, breathing in the cool night air. “We’re going to bring you back. I promise.” The night seems to hum in agreement. “Spit in Tamlin’s food for me.”

With that, he turns, ready to face hurricane Nesta.