#it really seems like Rhys just loves rubbing it in Tamlin’s face that he finally found someone to love him after all this time

[pearblossommina]

Tumblr bringing me back to my roots and making me ship Tamsand in 2023

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 5

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: Damn we really on part 5? Wild. Also y'all thought Tama Lama Ding Dong was a shithead in part 4? Light your torches and pitch forks then...

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): physical abuse, mentions of SA, major sexisim.

Word count: 5462

(all photos are from pinterest)

I wake up the next morning to warm kisses being placed on my cheek. My eyes flit open and I can feel Rhys’ arms holding me tightly from behind, in front of me the sunlight drifts through the balcony windows and the snow on the mountain seems to glisten in the sun. I feel Rhys’ kisses trailing down my neck causing me to giggle. 

“I knew you were awake,” he smiles, kissing my cheek. 

I roll over to see him looking down at me, his eyes catch the sun and I can swear I see literal stars flickering in his eyes. The golden sunlight warms his face and I can’t help but reach a hand up to cup his cheek. His hand falls on top of mine and pulls it down a bit to place a kiss to my open palm. 

“I haven’t slept that good in years,” I laugh.

“Well over 5 rounds will do that to a couple,” he grins.

“I suppose you’re right,” I laugh playfully, hitting his chest. “But that’s not what I meant, I liked sleeping here, with you.”

“I feel the same mate,” he smiles nuzzling my cheek. “When you’re in my bed I can sleep well knowing you’re as safe as you can possibly be.” 

“That is very true,” I smile, running a hand through his hair pulling his lips to mine. “I love you Rhys.” 

“I love you too y/n,” he smiles into the kiss. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.” 

“I’ll never get tired of saying it,” I reply, kissing him deeper, the tension in the room shifting. I feel his arm snake around my back pulling me closer to him and I take it as an opportunity to snake a leg around his hips and swing my body over his so that I’m straddling him. 

It takes him a moment to realize what has just happened but the second I start raking my hands down his chest his eyes light up in amusement. 

“Where on earth did you learn that little move mate?” he grinned, rubbing circles into my hips. 

“My so-called ‘dirty books’ you always tease me about,” I muse running my hands down his chest loving the feel of his velvet covered muscles under my fingers. 

“Then my mating present to you is going to be a whole library full of dirty books,” he smiles and leans up to kiss me.

“Please stay,” Rhys begged again. 

We had spent the rest of our morning tangled in a mess of morning sex and cuddles and then we utilized the abnormally large bath. As the afternoon started to roll around I felt my internal clock ticking and I knew I needed to get back to the Spring Court before anyone suspected anything. 

“You know I can’t Rhys,” I answered as I finished tying the top of my dress off. “If Tamlin finds out what happened it won’t be good for either of us.” 

“It makes my stomach sick to know you’ll be locked up in that house again, with him, with Lucien.” he pleads, taking my hands in his. 

“I’ll be okay, I promise. The sooner I go back the sooner I can tell Tamlin.” I say remind him, placing a hand on either side of his face. 

“And then you can come home to me.” he says warmly, pressing his forehead against mine. 

“Yes, home,” I sigh, liking the way the word rolled off my tongue. I bury my head in his chest and hold him as close as I can. 

“Let me go with you,” he begs, rubbing my back as his chin rests on top of my head. “We can tell Tamlin together.” 

“I wish you could, but the second that you set foot in our court Tamlin will attack first and ask questions later. We won’t even get a chance to talk to him civilly.” I say.

“I hate that you don’t smell like me anymore,” he deadpans.

 I knew that if I walked into the Spring Court with Rhys’ scent all over me there would be no way in Hel that Tamlin would let me explain. So I had thrown a glamour over myself to mask the scent. 

“I promise when I get back you can rub your scent all over me you psycho alpha male,” I laugh pushing away from him so I can see his face.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he chuckles. “I love you, y/n.” 

“I love you too Rhys’” I say, standing up on my tiptoes to give him one final kiss. 

It’s unseasonably cold in the Spring Court when I arrive, though the sheer fabric of my dress didn’t do much to keep me warm. I walked through the gardens and up the front steps of the mansion. The closing of the door echoed throughout the house. Its sound reminded me of how empty this place truly was, how it held no love in it. Just pastel fabric and cold, echoing marble. It was never a home, hell it wasn’t even a home when my parents were alive. 

My find wanders to Velaris. The warm inviting wooden walls, the cozy fireplaces, Cassian’s laugh. The lived in couches covered in all sorts of blankets, the amazing breakfast that had been served to us in bed. My mate, my beautiful wonderful mate, and how he smiled at me this morning.  How it felt so good to wake up in his arms.

My heart already ached for home, and I wasn’t going to waste another moment. 

“Tamlin!” my shout echoed off the marble walls as I started walking through the house looking for my brother. “Tamlin!” I scream again this time a little louder. 

I peer into the tea room and find no one. I prance down the hall towards the dining room and don’t find him there either. 

“Tamlin!” I scream even louder and begin walking towards his study. 

“What?!” came a muffled response from behind the study door. I open the door and let myself in. I find him bent over spreads of papers adding up numbers and recording them. 

“Tamlin, I need to speak to you,” I say, closing the door.  

“Me first though sister,” he starts, standing up and rounding his desk to lean on the front. “I spent the morning negotiating with Beron and we’ve come to an agreement. You and Eris are to be married by the end of the week.”

“I already told you I won’t marry Eris!” I seethe. “I want to marry my mate.”

Tamlin laughs mockingly, “and who, pray tell, is that sister? Don’t tell me that after all this time you’ve grown to tolerate Lucien.” 

“Lucien isn’t my mate,” I take a deep breath. “Rhysand is.” 

The amused look on Tamlin’s face drops and he suddenly embodies the idea of ‘if looks could kill’ as he stands up straight. 

“What did you just say?” he growls. 

“Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, is my mate,” I say, trying to sound brave as I let my glamour drop and Rhys’ scent floods the room. 

Tamlin’s eyes turn murderous and I know that there’s no going back now, no explaining my way out of this. There was nothing else I could say, the law of mates was as absolute as it got, he would be forced to accept it. 

He charges forward and before I can move far enough away his hand is wrapped around my throat and the back of my head is slamming against the doorframe to his study. 

“You let him fuck you?” he growled, and all I could do was whimper, as the hand around my throat wouldn’t allow me to speak. 

“You’re a worthless fucking whore and you always have been,” he shouts slamming my head against the doorframe again. “I’ve worked far too hard and lost far too much to lose this alliance with the Autumn Court. I’ll be damned if Rhysand putting his cock in you changes that. You’ll marry Eris even if I have to chain you to the altar!”  

Tamlin releases my throat and I drop to the floor unable to get my footing. I’m free for mere seconds before he’s grabbing me by my hair and pulling me down the hallway. 

“TAMLIN PLEASE STOP!” I scream trying to rip my hair out of his hands. 

“You’ll marry him even if you do so in a cell sister!” he bellows and I realize where we’re going. Where he’s taking me. My stomach pits. The cells below the Spring Court aren’t for the faint of heart. They are cold, wet, and musty. A stark contrast to the flowers that bloom outside.

Tamlin drags me down the steps, my knees scraping and cutting open on each one. As I feel the stone slice my knees the air around me gets colder and colder. The screeching of metal screams in my ears and I finally feel Tamlin let go of my hair. I scramble to the bars but it’s too late,  I hear the lock on the door click shut. 

“Tamlin, please don’t do this!” I plead, reaching through the bars for him but he moves away. 

“You did this to yourself y/n, I’ve been a good brother. I raised you, clothed you and watched over you for years. All I asked is that you marry Eris peacefully and you couldn’t even do that. I’ve just lost parts of my land, I won’t lose this alliance. I’ll see you at your wedding.” he seethes and turns to walk away. 

“Rhys!” I cry out hoping that saying his name out loud will be louder through the bond. 

“He can’t hear you sister, these cells are so heavily warded, not even that so-called mating bond you think you have can get through.” he smiles before closing the door at the top of the stairs and leaving me to the darkness.

Rhys…Rhys…Rhys… I called down the bond but I heard no answer. 

I had spent most of the morning and afternoon screaming for Rhys hoping that maybe verbally calling for him might strengthen the signal, but my voice ricocheted off the stone walls just like the mating bond did. 

When the tiny sliver of sunlight went dark so had my voice. I could barely speak, so I resorted to calling down the bond. But just like Tamlin had said, it was hopeless. I tried to pick the lock with a nail I found on the floor but only succeeded in slicing my palm open. At this point my dress was so ripped up from being used as bandages and being dragged down here it could hardly be called a dress. 

I screamed down the bond through the night until fatigue took over and I fell asleep. I woke to that tiny sliver of light again, which meant another day had passed and I was one day closer to my “wedding”. I stared at that sliver of light and continued to call down the bond but I was met with nothing but silence. I even tried tugging on that invisible string inside me, but I didn’t feel anything.

That night, the cell felt more like an ice box. The damp floor combined with the cold underground air had me shivering in a ball in the corner of the cell suddenly wishing I hadn’t used so much of my dress to bandage my wounds. 

Rhys…Rhys…Rhys

I called and called until sleep took me, my body tired from starvation, and cold. And as I sat in the back corner of my cell, freezing and alone, I realized that no one was coming.

“Just give her time, Rhys,” Cassian told me. “Tamlin’s always been a bit of a hard ass, I’m sure she would say something if something was wrong.”

“Yeah she’s survived there this long, she can do it again,” Azriel chimed in. 

It had been three days since I had seen or heard from y/n and I was beginning to worry. I know she wanted me to stay away from the Spring Court and give her time to reason with Tamlin, and I wanted to give her my complete faith that she could do this. But something wasn’t right. 

“She should’ve contacted me by now, something is wrong.” I say pacing around my office. 

“When was the last time you tried to reach down the bond?” Azriel asks, being uncharacteristically chatty today. 

“Just last night, but I couldn’t hear her,” I replied. 

“Tamlin’s got some pretty nasty wards on that place. I heard that Tarquin helped set them up,” Cassain replied. 

“Maybe try to break into a few of them,” Az suggested. 

“Worth a try I suppose, but that never stopped us from communicating before,” I say. 

I allow my power to flow to the Spring Court and in my mind I can see the layers and layers of wards. I cut my way through the first few and I hear a faint crying but I can’t make out what it is. I use my power to dig in even further, straining against the wards, and then I hear her. 

Rhys…Rhys…Rhys…

My knees nearly hit the floor as I hear her little cries. My heart nearly caves out from how hopeless she sounds, how weak.  

“What is it?” Azriel asks, sensing my pain. 

“She’s in trouble, I’m going to get her,” I say firmly, trying not to let my power rattle the very house we stood in. 

“Rhys you can’t, Tamlin will see it as an act of war. Let me and Az go get her.” Cassian pleads. 

“I don’t care, I won’t lose her.” I grit. “You both go get Madja I’ll be back.” 

I winnow to the Spring Court as fast as I can and pray to whatever gods are listening that I’m not too late.

This morning Tamlin dropped a piece of bread and a glass of water into my cell and I didn’t even plead with him to let me out. His small offering of food when he knew I was starving was proof enough that all my screaming and crying hadn’t affected him at all. He was beyond compassion and beyond saving. 

The bread was mostly moldy but I picked around the parts that weren’t and ate what I could, which wasn’t enough to cure my hunger. I left the rest to the rats who ran about the cell and crawled back into my corner to stare at that sliver of light on the floor all day again waiting for my wedding day tomorrow. 

The smell of flowers and freshly cut grass had never smelled so sour to me as I waltzed up the steps to the Spring Court mansion. On the outside it was truly beautiful, but the inside was cold and barren, no warmth, no life and I couldn’t imagine my sweet y/n living in such a place. 

I knew Tamlin was aware I was here, knew he felt me touch down on his soil, yet I didn’t yet see him. I used my powers to feel around for his presence and ended up walking toward the dining hall. I threw open the doors, hearing them crash into the walls behind them. There Tamlin sat, at the head of his empty table, and I swore fear flickered across his eyes.

“Where is she?” I growl stalking towards him. 

“You’ll have to be more specific, Rhysand.” he glowered. 

“Where is my mate,” I seethed, letting the last word bite. 

“Ahh my sister, well she has a prior engagement and I do mean that quite literally,” he mused. “You see she’s to bear Eris Vanserra many sons and make me a very rich High Lord.” 

My blood boils at the thought of her carrying Eris’ children and I feel my mental talons reach out to grab Tamlin’s mind. He falls to the floor in pain and it only seeks to fuel me further. 

“You dare attack me in my own court?” he chokes out.  “I will declare war upon your court Rhysand, and that whore will still be where Eris’ warms his cock when I leave your city in a pile of rubble.” 

“Be careful how you speak about my mate Tamlin, I will cut out your fucking tongue and take a great deal of pleasure in doing so.” I growl, tightening my grip on his mind.  

“She’s not worth this Rhysand, not worth your court, go home and I’ll forget this ever happened.” Tamlin rasps out. 

“You forget that you are standing between a male and his mate Tamlin, and not just any  male, me,” I glower and step closer to him. “I will melt your mind until all that is left is your rotted fucking corpse in this absurd mansion.” 

I lean in close to growl every word to him loud and clear. “Where. Is. My. Mate.” 

Tamlin doesn’t say anything. So I dig my talons so deep inside his mind so that his entire body convulses from the pain. I could shatter his mind right now, leave him dying and rotting in this mansion just like I promised. But then the whole council would declare war on The Night Court and I wouldn’t risk my family like that, wouldn’t risk y/n like that. 

I dig my talons deeper until his eyes roll into the back of his head and I release him leaving him to fall to the ground unconscious, he likely wouldn’t wake up for hours. I think about killing him one more time for what he did to her, but I just turn my back and take off to find my precious mate. 

I stare at the sliver of light on the floor and try to decipher what time of day it is. Try and figure out how many days until I legally belong to Eris and I’ll never hold Rhys again. I think about how my life will look, once Eris becomes High Lord. Will he allow me to attend council meetings with him? Will I have to watch Rhsyand from across the room and pretend I don’t know every inch of him? Will he one day show up with a High Lady? And I’ll sit there and watch him love and dote upon her like she placed the stars in his court? 

I shutter at the thought and try to curl inward on myself even more letting my tears fall freely. There was no one here to tell me how pathetic I was anyways. I trembled to the point where I couldn’t tell if I was crying too hard, scared or freezing to death. 

I hear the door to the dungeons open and I press my forehead against the wall and curl myself into the tightest ball possible not wanting Tamlin to get any satisfaction. 

“Y/n?” that voice echoes off the walls and my head snaps to the cell door. There before me, Rhysand is kneeling on the other side of the bars. His voice is broken and so is the pained expression on his face. 

“Rhys?” I rasp out, my voice still gone. I scramble over to where he’s kneeling and I reach my hands through the bars to touch his arms. The second I feel him I erupt into tears. “Rhys oh my gods,” I sob. 

“What has he done to you?” he asks, taking in the state of me, I must be covered in dirt and blood, my dress ripped to shreds from makeshift bandages. “It doesn’t matter, stand back I’m going to break open the door.” 

I do as he says and scootch back on my butt to the corner of the room where he found me. I cover my head and let my tears fall as I try to catch my breath. I hear the door blast off its hinges, metal crashing to the stone floor. Before I can even look up Rhys has me in his arms. 

“Oh my gods you’re so cold,” he hisses when he touches my skin. “Come on, I'm getting you out of here.” 

I feel him hoist me up and carry me up the stairs where there are no wards to prevent him from winnowing. The next thing I know my senses can smell the jasmine of Velaris and I open my eyes to find us in the foyer where Rhys first winnowed us. 

“Cassian! Azriel!” Rhys bellowed an urgency in his voice I never heard before. I hear two sets of footsteps enter the room. “Where is Madja she needs help.” 

“What the fuck happened to her?” Cassian balked. 

“He locked her in the fucking dungeons,” Rhys gritted out. “Here take her,” he said, passing me off to Azriel and I let out a whine at the loss of him.

“Where are you going?!” Cassian bellowed. 

“I left Tamlin alive before I found her, I’m going to finish the job.” Rhys seethed in a fit of blind rage. 

“Like hell you are, y/n needs you Rhys. Your mate needs you, Tamlin will be handled another day, stay with her for now.” Cassian beseeched Rhys, and I could see Rhys trying to decide what to do. 

“Rhys,” I cried, and I saw his heart melt at the sound of my cry. 

“I’m right here darling,” he cooed, taking me from Azriel’s arms. “I’m gonna take care of you.” he said, pressing a kiss to my brow and taking me into a room where Madja was. 

 I felt her hands assessing me for any broken bones before she started cleaning the wounds on my knees and hand. Her healing magic is already making me feel better taking away the tightness in my chest so I can breathe without sobbing. 

“She will be okay, she has a few cuts on her legs but her hand will need stitches. She seems to have some head trauma and severe damage to her trachea,” she begins. “Say ‘ahh’ for me sweetie.” 

“Ahh,” I comply, the word barely a flicker of sound. 

“Damage to her vocal chords, she must’ve been screaming for hours.” Madja says, helping me sit up again. “She’s cold, hungry and traumatized, but with some warmth, food and rest she will be okay,” she smiles at Rhys.

“Thank you Madja,” Rhys says, forcing a smile. 

I stood and walked over to where a mirror was across the room, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel looked at me as if I might shatter on the ground at any given moment. When I look into the mirror I gasp, I don’t recognize the woman looking back at me. Hair matted, tired eyes, dress torn to shreds and a large bruise around my neck from where Tamlin choked me. 

I can see Rhys coming to stand behind me as I trace the bruise with my hand. I make eye contact with him in the mirror and I can see him trying not to cry. I turn to throw my arms around him and sob into his chest and though his arms come to wrap around me as well he holds me like I might break. 

“Let's get you cleaned up okay?” he says sweetly. 

I nod and allow him to pick me up and carry me to his, well, our room. When we arrive the bath is already magically filled and heated and I chalk it up to the magic that brought us breakfast in bed that one morning.

As I sit in the warm bath he kneels at the edge, sponging me off and washing my hair with jasmine scented shampoo. 

“You don’t need to do this,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. 

“I want to,” was all he said in return and I didn’t have the voice to argue. 

He dries me off in a warm towel and carries me to bed. Already waiting for me is a beef and vegetable stew. Rhys tries to pick it up and spoon feed it to me, but I take it from his hands to feed myself. 

“I promise you I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself,” I give a hoarse laugh. 

“I know, I just…I want to take care of you.” he says sadly. 

“You are Rhys, I promise it’s not as bad as it looks,” I say, shoveling the stew into my  mouth. 

“What do you mean it’s ‘not that bad’, y/n look at you,” he pleads, eyes flitting to my neck. 

“I’m safe now though Rhys, I’m with you.”  I say setting down the stew to crawl into his lap. 

I feel his hand graze my neck where the bruise is, “when Madja said you must’ve screamed for hours,” he stopped teeth gritting at the idea. “Did he torture you?” 

“No,” I started. “When I got back to the mansion I immediately thought of you and Velaris and how much I missed this place already and I didn’t even think twice before barreling in his office and telling him. I was even stupid enough to let the glamour drop. He completely lost his mind and that’s how I got this,” I said, hand grazing the bruise. “He told me I would marry Eris even if I did it in a cell. And he dragged me down there and left me. The cuts on my legs are from being dragged, the gash on my hand is from trying to pick the lock with a rusty nail and slicing my hand open.” 

“And the screaming?” he asked. 

I sighed knowing that he wouldn’t give up until he knew the truth, “Tamlin told me the cells were heavily warded, that the mating bond wouldn’t be strong enough for you to hear me through them. But I didn’t care. I screamed your name for days until I lost my voice completely.” I admitted.

I looked up to see the hurt in Rhys’ eyes. Through the mating bond I could see him playing the image of me, cold, alone and screaming his name in a cell for hours. That name he begged me to say when we first met… I screamed it for days, and he didn’t hear me. 

“You couldn’t have known Rhys,” I assured him, placing my hands on his face. 

“Who's the mind reader now,” he quipped, trying to hide his pain. 

“I’m safe now Rhys, I’m here with you.” I smile, wiping the tear from his face. 

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again, I never want to be separated from you from this moment forward.” he said with promise and I could sense he was trying to assure himself more than me. 

“Never again mate,” I say, pressing our foreheads together. I reach for the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. 

“y/n no you’re hurt,” he murmurs, pulling his shirt back down. 

“No not sex, I just- I want to feel you,” I say referencing the time he held my hand under a council table. 

He takes his shirt off slowly and lays down pulling me into his chest. My cheek hit his skin and I’m flooded with his scent. My heart immediately calmed as I pulled the fluffy towel up on my body. Rhys reaches down and covers us up with the blankets and even though it’s not yet 4 o’clock we fall fast asleep.

The next morning I wake up in Rhysand’s arms and sit up to admire him sleeping. Somehow he’s still the most beautiful male I had ever seen. I run my hands down his chest and I can't help but lean down to place a kiss there. One kiss turns to two, two into three, three to four and before I know it the sleeping High Lord is waking with a groan. 

“I could get used to waking up like this,” he smiles that devilish smile that brings me to my knees. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, I just can’t get enough of you,” I giggle, kissing his chest again. 

“That’s the frenzy starting, once we officially mate it’ll be much worse. So much worse in fact, I’m going to have to take you away to my cabin in the mountains for a bit.” he smirks and runs a hand through my hair as I pepper kisses all over his chest. 

“Aww but I love this house so much, I don’t want to mate in a cabin,” I pout. 

“Yes but if we stay here it's a safety concern for the citizens but mostly for Cassian. If he even looks at you the wrong way I’ll be inclined to rip his head off,” he chuckles. “I promise you’ll love it, it's not a ramshackle place, it's enchanted just like this one.” 

“That’s right I forgot males can get all territorial after they mate,” I snort. 

“It's true,” he laughs. “I’ve seen males of reason and education destroy a room and attack other males, only because a male looked too long in the direction of his mate too soon after their mating.” he says, kissing my brow. 

“Then maybe the cabin is a good idea, I’m quite fond of Cassian already, I’d hate to see him decapitated.” I smile, giving him a short kiss.

“You and I both mate,” he smiles, kissing me back. 

I lean in to deepen the kiss and he abruptly pulls away. 

“What’s wrong?” I ask, feeling like I might’ve been too bold.

“It’s Mor, I just heard her thoughts and she wants us to come downstairs, says it’s urgent,” he explains begging to sit up. 

I don’t ask questions, whatever Mor has to say must truly be urgent given the events of the past few days. I slowly realize I don’t have any clothes and reach to pick up one of Rhysand’s discarded shirts on the floor and slip it over my head. It’s big enough on me that it fits like a dress. He pulls a shirt over his own head and turns back to look at me. 

“Shit woman, we're going to have to go shopping because if you’re walking around this house in nothing but my clothes I won’t hesitate to take you on every piece of furniture I own,” he smirks, grabbing me by the waist. 

“Is that a promise mate?” I muse. 

“You little-” he smirks before leaning in to kiss me deeply. 

We reluctantly break apart and Rhys leads me down the stairs to where his cousin Mor awaits with a letter in hand, the wax seal already broken. 

“Mor this is y/n, my mate. Y/n this is my cousin Mor.” Rhys introduces us,  taking the letter from Mor’s hand. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m sorry I’m not wearing something more proper. I don’t have any clothes here yet,” I smile nervously, holding out my hand for her to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’ve heard so much about you,” she says, pushing my hand away and wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. “And don’t worry about the clothes I’ve been dying to go shopping, and no one is better at spending Rhys’s money than me.”

I see Rhys roll his eyes as he pockets the letter. 

“I’ll look forward to that, I’ve always longed for a girlfriend to go shopping with,” I say truthfully. “What was the letter about?” I say directing my attention to Rhys who already looks like he's scheming and brooding over it.

“It’s from the council, they are calling us in to question the validity of our mating bond and who you truly belong to, me or Eris,” he explains and I can tell it’s plaguing him. 

“Beron definitely wrote that, he’s such a sexist asshole,” Mor ranted rolling her eyes. 

“Do you think we need to worry?” I ask earnestly. 

“With Beron backing your brother? We might.”

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[gwynrielendgame]

Feyre x Lucien

I’m gonna be honest, I normally hate cheating and anything related, but….I hate Rhysand more 😭😭I’m sorry it’s true. Nothing I hate more than an entitled white(up for debate I suppose), cishet man that is worshipped for being a feminist icon. Anyways, enjoy the story.

@decadantstudent @e-bacellar

Feyre was fuming mad and she planned on giving Lucien an earful until he promised to come to the next winter solstice.

"You are avoiding me." Feyre declared as she burst into his room. Surprisingly, he was not shocked by her entrance. Vassa must have warned him that she would be coming.

"Has it ever occurred to you that not everything is about you Feyre?" Lucien gave a heavy sigh as he finished buttoning the cuff on his left hand. He was standing in front of a long mirror, looking as regal and handsome as ever. Feyre put both hands on her hips and gave him the same look Nyx received when he was in trouble.

"Then why did you not come to solstice?" She demanded. She could not explain why her feelings were so hurt, but they were. After everything they had been through, he should at least come to celebrate her birthday.

"Believe it or not, Feyre, you are the only one who wants me there. Not very welcoming." He met her eyes through the mirror before fiddling with his next cuff. Feyre knew her family was not very kind to him, but she did not realize it had bothered him. Most insults slid off his back as if he had never heard it in the first place. With his quick wit and even quicker mouth, Feyre just assumed he might even like the banter.

"That is not true." She struggled to think of anyone else who liked having Lucien there. There was no one, but she simply wanted to argue with him at this point. "Nyx likes you."

"Nyx is a baby. He likes everyone."

"It is my birthday, Lucien. The least you could do is show up."

"I sent a gift. Did you not get it?" He elegantly leaned his shoulder against the wall. His nonchalance bothered her though.

"The bow and arrows were lovely but that's not the point, Lucien." She could admit they had been one of her favorite gifts. It had been perfectly crafted to fit all of Feyre's preferences. She brought it with her on every mission now.

"Then what is?" The bastard had the nerve to look amused.

"I was a much better friend to you than you were to me and now all I ask is for you to come to one event a year."

"Feyre, what do you want from me? I cannot go back and change the past. Trust me I would if I could. How can I fix it if an apology will not?" He seemed exasperated by the entire situation which only resulted in infuriating Feyre further.

"Changed behavior! Be a better friend." She shrieked as she crossed her arms across her chest. She was hoping to come across as a disappointed mother, but she felt more like a nagging mate.

"You hardly seemed like you even wanted me there the last three solstices. So what do you really want?" Lucien pushed himself off the wall and elegantly stretched out on his emerald green couch. Feyre reconsidered for a moment. What did she want?

"Answers."

Lucien looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Would you ever have intervened with Tamlin if Rhysand did not exist?" She decided to ask. She had blamed Lucien as much as Tamlin for what had happened. No matter how unfair, part of Feyre did resent Lucien. He gave a pained look. The first hint of something other than annoyance.

"Eventually. Not as soon as you would have wanted." He admitted while looking away, clearly ashamed. His jaw clenched tightly under her watchful eye.

"Why?"

"Tamlin has done more for me than any other fae. Betraying him in the worst way possible would not have been easy." Lucien offered. There was more to it that he was refusing to admit to and Feyre was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"But allowing me to suffer was?" She asked softly as she stared at her feet. It appeared seeing each other’s faces would be too much for both of them considering neither would look at each other.

"No! I did not know it was as bad as it was. Unlike you Feyre I am not a mind reader. It was not like you came crying to me about how miserable you were."

He had a point there. As close as she was to Lucien, she knew he would not respond how she wanted, so she kept her feelings inside. Regardless, he must have known she was unhappy.

"Do not pretend. You knew it was bad." She finally found the courage to look up at him, but his head was in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees.

"What would you have done in my position? Say Azriel was mistreating that priestess he is so fond of and no one else knew? Would you whisk her away knowing it would destroy him without a second thought? Without a plan hm?" There was such conviction in his eye when he looked up at her that

Feyre paused. She cocked her head to analyze Lucien. Had he been concocting a plan to help her? One that never came to fruition because of Rhysand? She ignored that thought altogether. It was too complicated to piece apart.

"Can you be honest for like five minutes, Lucien?"

"I have been honest!" He was clearly frustrated as he snapped at Feyre. He stood up from the chair.

"Then tell me why you did not help me?" She demanded. "You saw what he was doing to me and allowed it to continue." Feyre had never been this angry at Lucien, but all her previous resentment was rising to the surface and she could not contain it. Her chest was heaving from all the yelling she had done.

"Because I loved you!" He shouted back at her while pacing the length of his room. "Because I knew it was suffocating you and I could not find it in myself to stop it because I wanted you safe as much as Tamlin did."

Feyre reared back at Lucien's admittance. She truly was not expecting that. Lucien stopped his pacing to look at her through his one good eye. He looked miserable and clearly did not want to talk about this, but Feyre had forced it out. He dragged his hand through his hair rather roughly. Feyre suddenly wished she had never come to the band of exiles, had never accused Lucien of being a bad friend. She thought he had been running away from Elain and Tamlin, but perhaps he had been running away from her as well. The space between them felt too small.

"Lucien..." she did not know what to say, so she let the silence drag on. He sighed heavily before sitting in the chaise at the corner of the room once again. He let his head drop, refusing to look her in the eye.

"I knew the prophecy meant you had to fall for Tamlin, so I stepped back. The more time I spent with you though, the more I wanted you for myself. I thought you might have felt the same way until calanmai." He shrugged as if he was not admitting to something that could destroy their entire friendship.

"But then you mated to Rhys and I mated to Elain, and do not misunderstand. Your sister is lovely, but she is not the only one avoiding the bond." He finally looked up at her and the pain in his eye made Feyre want to comfort him. She was unsure if that was appropriate now though. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. She supposed she could offer an olive branch in a room where only Lucien could hear her deepest, buried thoughts.

"I was jealous of Vassa." She blurted before she could stop herself. Lucien tilted his head as he analyzed her words. "I thought I was jealous of your friendship because you were my first true friend, but I think part of me wants you to remain unattached at my side as you were when I was with Tamlin." The hopeful glint in Lucien's eye had her adding on the next part. "I love Rhysand more than life itself and I would not change anything." His face fell.

The silence dragged on with both of them refusing to move any closer to each other. It was safest with Lucien in his chair and Feyre standing by the door. Lucien leaned back in his chair with a surprisingly blank expression. More than anything she wanted to see his smirk and have him crack a joke so that she knew their friendship was not lost forever.

"I started to resent you. That's why I left with Vassa and Jurian." Feyre felt something crack in her chest, but she did not want to ponder all the possibilities of that. "I slept with Ianthe for you."

"I never asked-" Feyre started to interrupt but Lucien held up his hand to stop her.

"I know. But I knew you would never forgive Tamlin if he participated in Calanmai and I did not want that to be something that drove you two apart. I mean I did, but..." he seemed to struggle with his words for the first time ever. He rubbed his hands roughly over his face. "I knew that if I participated that Ianthe would sink her claws into the opportunity." His face went two shades paler and the dread in his voice finally had Feyre crossing the imaginary line in the room. She sat next to him and took his hand. He refused to turn and look at her, but he did squeeze her hand.

"I never wanted that. But I loved you too much and I loved Tamlin too much. I should have put my foot down with him way before you ever entered the picture." Feyre put her hand on his cheek to force him to look at her. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears. It was not her fault that Lucien was forced to be with Ianthe, but she still felt sad that Lucien would have done anything for Tamlin even if he would not have returned the favor.

He grabbed both of her cheeks with his hands and gently brought her face to his. He was giving her time to back away. She realized in this moment she should not have come. The emotionally charged room kept her from pulling away. She thought she was giving Lucien a passionate kiss before they each went their separate ways permanently. Instead, Lucien very softy brushed his lips against hers and then pulled away. It could hardly be considered a kiss. Once he dropped his hands from her face, the spell was broken and Feyre was moving to the far end of the room.

"Sorry." Was all Lucien could muster without even looking at her. Her face flamed bright red with a wave of shame and something else she did not want to label.

"It's fine." She stammered. "I should go."

He let her leave the room without so much as a look in her direction. Feyre had never quite understood all her feelings where Lucien was concerned. She planned on keeping it locked away forever though.

[mmvalentine]

Home is Where You Are pt 10 | Feysand

Girl next door AU. One last smut piece before we leave this fic. Also this is my 50th post and that makes me happy. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

They stayed in the city apartment for another year, then moved into the old house. They had spent so many weekends there anyway, that it seemed a natural progression. Feyre liked the big pools of light in the living room to paint, and Rhys declared there was nothing he was attached to, nothing that was home if Feyre wasn't there. He worked from home easily and only had to go to the city for big events, and that suited him just fine. Feyre left her job and was invited to another studio by someone who had been following her on social media, and messaged as soon as Feyre announced the move.

They packed up their little life into Rhys' car; there was not much since they had been gradually moving things over on their breaks. Then they drove the six hours to their house, and before Feyre could climb the first step Rhys was scooping her up into his arms so he could carry her across the threshold.

"What are you doing you dork?" Feyre giggled. "I'm giving you the official welcome to your new home," Rhys said. "We're not married, and we've been half-living here for months now," Feyre pointed out. "Yes, well, we didn't technically live here. Maybe just a welcome home, then." Feyre folded her arms around his neck and kissed him like frosting on a cupcake.

"We could, you know," Rhys said, still holding her in his arms. "Get married. If you want." Feyre tipped her head to one side. "Rhysand are you proposing to me?" she asked with a smile. Rhys shrugged. "You've always had me, Feyre. Since we were thirteen years old. I've never been one for tradition, and I didn't know if you'd want a proposal after Tamlin. But I hope you'll be mine for my whole life." "Forever," Feyre promised, and kissed him again.

Rhys walked them into the landing, then stood at the foot of the stairs.

"Ladies choice," he said. "Bedroom, or counter top?" Feyre shivered in his arms in anticipation, and licked her lips. "One, then the other." Rhys' eyes sparked. "Yes ma'am," he said, and carried her to the kitchen. "Although I might reverse the order, if it's all the same to you."

He set her down on the bench top, gently at first, rearranging her legs so she sat facing him. Then his eyes went black, and he grabbed a hold of her behind the knees and yanked her forward, a hand gliding to the back of her neck and the other coasting down the outside of her thigh. Even sitting on the tall counter, Feyre's head only came up to Rhys' nose. His sudden change of mood had sparks rolling down Feyre's spine.

"Seriously," he said, in a voice like midnight. "All I think about all day is you on kitchen table tops, and I never get any work done." He pulled off her shirt, and dropped it onto the floor. "You're a terrible influence on my work habits." The bra was dropped, too. Feyre slid her hands up in the inside of Rhys' black t-shirt. "Don't blame me for your lack of productivity," she said. "You're the one who keeps putting me up on these." "True," Rhys said against her lips. "But you look so good sitting up here."

Rhys' hands smoothed over her legs and hitched them around his waist. He kissed her mouth, and leaned into her so she was tipped backward, and holding onto his neck to keep herself upright. He gripped her hips so that they wouldn't lose contact with his.

"Now," he murmured. "This island bench top is much bigger than the one at the apartment." He put his palm flat against Feyre's chest, and pushed her gently downward so she had her back flat on the table and her feet dangling off the edge.

"I think I'll have you like this. And," he paused and smoothed her arms above her head. "Like this," he said. He leaned down and pressed a luscious kiss into Feyre's belly. Her hands came down to stroke his hair, but Rhys stood up quickly.

"Mmm naughty," he purred. "Hands up." He pushed her arms back above her head, and held her wrists down. "Keep them there. If you don't, I'll have to tie you up so you can't move them."

He kissed his way down Feyre's arm, and across her collar bone. Made eye contact as he moved his hands, making sure she didn't bring her arms down. Then, satisfied she wasn't moving, he cupped both breasts in his hands and put his teeth on her nipple.

Feyre's back arched up but she kept her arms above her head as instructed. Rhys' lips made their way across to the other breast, then over her ribcage. Feyre curled her fingers around the opposite lip of the island. Rhys squeezed her breasts in his hand as his tongue travelled further south. As he bit into the waistband of her pants and used his teeth to tug them down a little. As he licked that line of her hips, teasing high above where she really needed him.

In one smooth motion, Rhys had her pants off, but instead of going to the centre of her, his mouth moved to the inside of her thigh. Feyre moaned in protest, but Rhys took his time. Teeth and tongue on the softest part of her leg. Up higher. And higher. Finally he reached the edge of her underwear- but then he just moved across to the other side and bit into her right thigh. Feyre tried to pull him in with her feet, tried to get him closer, but he was unmoved. Ran his tongue across the leg edge of her underwear, and did would not speed up.

Rhys loved Feyre like this. Spread over the counter, needing him so badly her eyes were rolling back and her teeth were clamped down over her lower lip. Her hands stuck on the table above her, because he said so. The sight of her had him so fucking hard. He peeled her underwear off, but kept his attention at the join of her leg and her hip.

"Please," Feyre panted, starting to buck off the table. "Rhys, please."

Rhys hovered his lips over her clit, so she would feel his breath when he spoke.

"I love my name in your mouth," he said, and then sucked against her with a swirl of his tongue. The sound that tore from Feyre made his knees buckle for a second. He ran his thumbs over her nipples, and licked broadly over her until her knees were trembling next to his ears, and he knew she was close. Then just before she started to come, he stood, unzipped his jeans and pushed into her.

Feyre, whose moans became close to sobs, gripped the far edge of the bench so hard her knuckles were white. She moved her hips to meet his, as Rhys' hand ghosted down her sternum.

"Are you right on the edge, my darling?" Rhys asked. "Are you wishing you could rub your clit right now?"

Feyre's teeth clicked together, but she couldn't seem to form words.

"It's a shame you can't move your hands," Rhys mused. He picked up the pace a little. "Maybe you need someone to help you."

Feyre nodded, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes now.

"Is that what you want?" Rhys asked her. "I don't know if you don't tell me." He sped up more, fucking her hard into the counter top.

"Y...yes," Feyre stuttered. "P..p..." "What's that my love?" "Please," Feyre got out. Rhys licked his thumb, then held it over her clit as her hips rocked back and forth. Feyre's moans choked off, moved beyond sound. A beautiful flush spread out over her chest.

"Don't come yet," Rhys told her. "Wait for me. Come with me." Feyre bit down savagely on her lip, and just nodded her head. "Listen, honey," he said. "Listen to me breathing and come with me."

Rhys kept the pressure under his thumb, and put his other hand down on the table by Feyre's shoulder. His rhythm built, and his steady breathing built with it. Soon his moans matched paced with Feyre's, and he locked his eyes on hers and watched her run up to the edge with him...

And tumble right over at the same time.

Rhys came hard inside her, the feeling of Feyre's own climax around him intensifying everything a hundred times over. He kept moving inside her until her orgasm faded away, and then put his head down on her breastbone and listened to her heart beat gradually slowing down.

Feyre's hands finally came down, and she threaded her fingers through his hair. He nuzzled into her stomach and pushed into her touch.

Finally, he pulled out of her and used a tea towel to clean her up. Then he helped her up to sitting, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing softly up the side of her neck. She hugged her legs around him, and ran her nails across his shoulders.

"Welcome home, lover," he whispered. "Welcome home yourself," Feyre said back to him.

Rhys lifted her off the counter, her legs locking around him, as he kissed her mouth and licked her tongue. Then he turned, and started climbing the stairs to the bedroom, where they would start all over again.

****

*sighhhh* that's the end, lovers. I really enjoyed this little fic, my enormous thanks to everyone who came along for the ride and let me write this. I hope it made you feel as gooey as I did.

TAGLIST: Some of you are only tagged for this specific fic, so goodbye lovelies and thanks for being here! If you'd like to be tagged in any of my other feysand flick me a message.

@ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @asteria-of-mars@booksmusicandgoodvibes @burritowithfeels

[bookdorp]

A Court of Wings and Ruin - Chapter 44 to chapter 50.

It’s been some time since I posted more of my Read-Through of A Court of Winds and Ruin, but I started a new job a month ago and I haven’t been feeling up to writing more on this book. Though I kept reading, even though with ever chapter I dislike this book more and more. It’s really, so far, my least favorite in the series, even though there are things and characters in it that I like. Unfortunatuly my favorite Lucien is of adenturing on his own at on the other side of the world, but I know we’ll see him again right when we most need him.

So, Chapter 44. In chapter 43 we ended with Tamlin making his big entrance at the High Lords and Lady meeting. Maas really over did him here by making him extra mean and rude. Was it really necessary to comment on how Feyre does certain things during sex? I skipped that part of the chapter because it was unnecessary to put that in here. We get it by now: this is a sexist world, no need to rub it in again and again. And Tamlin is mean and an ass. Ugh, this chapter really rubbed me the wrong way so I’m not going to say more about it. This chapter shouldhave been left out. It feels like Maas wrote it to make Tamlin seem even more evil and rude, just to make the ‘surprise’ of him being on their side all along more ‘suprising’. I really wish Maas’ writing was more subtle.

And in chapter 45 we need to be reminded of how Rhys is perfect at everything and (mirror mirror on the wall who is the) sTRONGEST OF THEM ALL. I miss his faults from ACOTAR. His ‘faults’ in this one are not really faults because ‘willing to risk your life to save others’ isn’t a fault. And when repeated and used too many times it gets annoying. I want the prick again, but a real one, not a mask. I want Rhys to be a realy prick who is also a good guy. I WANT ACOTAR Rhys back!

Also, does no one have any self control? I mean, having someone stand up for you is really amazing and makes you feel good, but I’m really starting to dislike this ‘males wanting to beat up everyone being rude to their females’ shit. And it’s always the men that do this. There are more ways to proof your love and loyalty to someone that losing your shit each time someone is being rude, to said love-interest. Why not let Mor attack Eris herself for what he said. That I would have loved reading. But instead Mor sits there ‘pale’ and ‘trembling’ at Aziel’s attack.

I do love the new character being introduced: Nuan, just too bad she’s only there for like 5 pages sor so. She made Lucien’s eye and is a good friend of Lucien (no wonder I like her already ><!!) she’s a tinkerer and inventor and has made herself a mechanical hand after loosing her real one. I mean, I’d love to read more about her in future books. Why is Maas so much better at writing side characters??

I do like how the consequences for Feyre messing up the Spring Court are finally faced. Somewhat at least, and she feels bad about it, a little, and she tries to ignore it. And I don’t mean this in a mean way, it’s because I lke reading stories where actions have consequences. And while Tamlin is a huge ass (and written far too evil by Maas), he has every reason to be angry at Feyre. And Feyre has every reason to angry at him. But Feyre forgot to calculate the consequences to the innocent people of the Spring Court that suffered through her actions. I’m glad to see her reminded of it.

And lastly of course we get to Feyre’s grand reveal of her powers. I knew her decision (or rather Maas’ decision) to keep it a secret for now would backfire. and now we know it was just so it could be a grand surprise thing for the High Lords. It’s nice to watch a woman go feral to protect someone for a change. I mean, a few sentences back I was complaining its always the men going berserk like Azriel just did. I just wish it wasn’t part of Maas’ plan to make it into a Thing to make Feyre look special and extra powerful. 

Chapter 46 is Feyre beating Beron on his ass. Beron of course deserves it, but just like Tamlin, I wish Maas would write him a little more nuanced. She really has very little grey characters. And Rhys was perfectly grey in ACOTAR, but she totally bleached him to make him look better next to Tamlin. Why isn’t Tamlin allowed to be grey? Moving on, the rest of the chapter is talking and then deciding if they’ll band. Beron doesn’t of course. But the rest does.

In chapter 47 the description of the meeting is very rushed. We don’t get explanations on what they decide, only that it was a difficult meeting and they decide to continue the next day. Though the Inner Circle continues their talking in private and is joined by Helion, who turns out not to be a real jerk. Just like Rhys he pretends to be an asshole. Helion explaines how he met the Lady of the Autumn Court and I’m pretty sure Lucien is his son after all that. Of course Feyre is the only one smart enough to figure it out, as if its not obvious after all the descriptions in previous chapters how Lucien is just a shade darker than his father and brothers, and the ‘looks’ Helion and the Lady of the Autumn Court give eachother. I’m glad for Lucien that his real dad isn’t a jerk. I hope his mom will escape Beron at some point. Maybe in another book, after Eris becomes High Lord or the Autumn Court.

More talking in this chapter, this time about Mor and Azriel and Casian. I’m not sure what the point of their weird triangle thing is. Nothing really happens with it, it’s just there to create angst from time to time.

Nesta has a weird feeling which no one really ends up believing is real. I mean, they did check it out but didn’t find anything so they assumed she felt it wrong. Obviously we know she’ll end up being right. We just know that if Feyre had had a weird feeling they’d have followed up for real, but when it’s not Feyre everyone is like meh... It was the same with Elain and her vision. 

And on a small but good note, Feyre tells Rhys the wings of his mother and sister were burned by Tamlin the moment he became High Lord. See, Tamlin isn’t evil. If they would just all be mature enough to talk it out like the 500 year old beings that they are. I mean, that Feyre acts childisch sometimes, yes, she is after all only 19 or 20 or so. But the rest of them are all about 500 years old.

Mor had some sexy time in chapter 48 with Helion but didn’t seem too happy with it after. I already know why, that’s something I remember from my first read because its kind of big, but I’ll wait to talk about it until I reach that chapter in the book.

Nesta gets a weird feeling again the next morning and BAM, the Wall has been destroyed! If only they had taken her seriously...

In Chapter 49 we make plans to save the humans and Elain is finally doing something instead of swooning like a damsel all the time. She’s going to ask her former human bethrothed to let the humans in his father’s protected lands for safety. She loves Grayson still which is sweet.

The chapter ends with Feyre demanding Amren to go to the creature in the library.Everyone is going behind people’s backs again. And these chapters are getting shorter and shorter.

Chapter 50 has Feyre making a bargain with the thing in the library. Its called Bryaxis. And it all goes really easy. Bryaxis only wants a window. Good thing evil scary monsters are very easy to persuade to fight for you. Only the Carver is making things hard. 

Chapter 51 is the start of Part 3 of this book which is called High Lady. And this is where I’m going to end this post. the rest is for some other time.

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Surprises (17)

Ah this was meant to up yesterday but then I got a little sidetracked when I came home from work. I am very sorry:((

We’ve got just a little bit of violence in this one because, it was needed, you’ll see. This happens to be a favourite of mine so I hope you enjoy<3

Surprises Masterlist.

Full Masterlist.

No gif because I’m useless and I can’t find the one I wanted. Oops.

---------

Elain did not want to be at school, she wanted to be at home with Azriel, in bed. Preferably naked. But she was stuck here in her stupid fucking English Lit class where she was absorbing literally no information. He was perfectly fine at home she knew, his mother was there with him, but that didn’t stop her leg from bouncing nervously.

When they were finally let out, she ignored all of the curious glances she received walking out of the room. Her bump was bigger but she was wearing Az’s hoodie so no one could actually see that it had and she tried not to let her hand hold it, something she had taken to doing quite a lot recently. As she walked through the cafeteria and to their usual table, where Cass, Rhys and Lucien were already sat, more people kept looking at her oddly. Some were just curious like the ones from her class, some gave her a quick and disgusted once over and others, they just looked before turning back to their friends and giggling. Elain had to clench her hands into fists so as not to wrap her arms around herself. She would not show them how they affected her; she would not look weak in their eyes. Sitting next to Cass when she finally got to the boys, more people started openly staring at their table, and she watched as Rhys’ brows furrowed and asked with blatant confusion, “And why the fuck is every moron in this school staring at us?”

Lucien laughed from opposite her, “We aren’t that special. It’s probably you and your new scar. You are now even uglier than before.” He winked at Rhys, causing the other boy to let out a gasp and put his hand to his chest.

“Vanserra, how could you? I thought you loved me?!” He put his face in his hands and started to very obnoxiously fake cry. It was at that moment that Feyre and Nesta arrived, the former raising a brow at her boyfriend’s antics as she sat down.

“Why are you being such a drama queen, Rhysand?” Rhys threw himself at Feyre in an instant, burying his face into her neck as he gasped out between more fake sobs;

“B-babe, Lucy d-doesn’t love me any-anymore.”

Elain’s sister only rolled her eyes whilst patting his back, causing Elain to giggle, which stopped as soon as it started when a voice rang out through the cafeteria. A voice she really didn’t want to fucking deal with right now.

“Well would you look at this. Velaris High’s new ‘mommy to be’ finally decided to show her face.” They all turned to see Ianthe standing there with a hand on her hips; a smirking Tamlin at her back. Fucking bastard. Elain was frozen and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe. How the fuck could that stuck up bitch know that she was pregnant? Cassian had his good arm tightly wrapped around Nesta’s waist, stopping her from getting up but he was also wincing at the way she dug her nails in. Lucien and Rhys were glaring at Tamlin and Feyre was silently seething.

Cassian tipped his head to stare at the ceiling as he groaned, “Please, please just fuck off, Ianthe. No one is in the mood for your stupid bullshit today.”

“But I’m just so curious. I was at the hospital just visiting one day, when I overheard a conversation. And then Nesta came storming out of the room. I waited for a little bit after and Tamlin’s dearest Feyre came out too. So, how did our little freak manage to get someone to even look at her, let alone put a baby in her?”

Feyre snarled from where she sat, vibrating with anger, “I am not his anything. Call my sister a freak again Ianthe, and you won’t like the consequences.”

Elain wanted to be anywhere else than here. She wanted to be at home, with Az and forget this day ever happened. Ianthe laughed, something like a hyena, and gods it was the worst sound.

“But she is a freak. A freak with a bastard baby and even better, a cripple for a baby daddy. Yeah, we heard about dear Azzie. Such a shame, he really was a looker before.” She was smirking by the end and Elain felt anger rising from the pit of her stomach. Before she knew it, she was on her feet and there was pain coursing through her hand and wrist. She shook out her fist, cursing, and looked up to see Ianthe with a hand over her nose, blood leaking through her fingers. She was also screaming.

“You fucking bitch! You broke my gods damned nose!”

Cassian had let go of Nesta who was also now on her feet, and proceeded to bang Ianthe’s head against a chair. The screeching stopped but people throughout the cafeteria were now cheering and chanting. Cassian whistled lowly, eyes dark as he watched his girlfriend. “Sweetheart, what have I told you about turning me on in public places?” Nesta simply flipped him off, making him chuckle.

Tamlin was looking between them and an unconscious Ianthe lying on the floor, opening his mouth to say something before the principal walked in. “What on earth is going on in here?” He looked at the group of them, sending someone to get the nurse when he saw Ianthe, and narrowed his eyes at Elain. She was still shaking out her slightly throbbing fist. “My office, right now.” Turning on the spot, he gestured with a hand for her to move forward, following behind her as she did as she was told. There were faint murmurings of Rhys saying, “Who knew Lain had such fire?” as she walked away. It was only then that she allowed her hand to drop, curving her hand around her steadily growing stomach, hand rubbing against the side. Her brows furrowed when it felt like something was tickling her and pressed her hand down a little harder. She gasped when it happened again, eyes widening as a shocked smile spread across her face.

Her little girl was moving.

Elain dragged her hand downwards and her girl followed. It took everything she had to not let herself cry with joy. Her girl made her presence known right when Elain needed her most.

Mama is here baby girl. I’ve got you, my littlest one.

She held her head high and back straight as she walked into the principal’s office, proud of herself. She had defended herself, the man that she loved and that wonderful little miracle they’d created together. She had defended her family.

Just as she always would.

oOoOo

Azriel peered up over his book from where he was sitting on the sofa, watching as his family walked through the front door of the house, all of them laughing loudly. Cass and Rhys both had an arm each looped through one of Elain’s as she giggled at them. Feyre and Nesta came through just behind them, both smiling wide as they watched the trio in front of them. Cassian let go of her to flop down next to him and Rhys twirled Elain before bringing her close, singing a random song off tune as he danced with her. Azriel felt a small twinge of jealousy at the sight, but it was overpowered by the happiness he felt as he watched her. This was the brightest she’d been in almost a week and his heart soared.

His brother nudged him with an elbow, his whole body twitching with how giddy he was. “Oh dearest brother, you would never guess what kind of day we’ve had.”

“No I can’t, but I’m assuming it was a good one?” He didn’t take his eyes off of his girlfriend, who seemed to be glowing with all of the excitement. He wanted nothing more than to get up and take her into his own arms, he ached to do so. He pushed it down and finally tore his eyes away, meeting hazel eyes similar to his own.

“Ianthe knows about the baby.” Azriel’s eyes went wide at that before abruptly spun back to Elain, but she didn’t seem bothered by it, didn’t look like she cared one bit.

“How the hell could she possibly fucking know? You can’t even see Elain’s bump when she’s wearing baggy clothes.”

Nesta spoke up; returning from where she’d disappeared into the kitchen, bottle of water in one hand and Elain’s vitamins in the other, handing them both off to his girlfriend. “She was at the hospital the day Elain collapsed, lurking around like a creepy loser after I stormed out to come and beat your ass.” There was no heat behind the words and she even winked at him. “She called Elain a freak, the baby a bastard and then you a cripple.” His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach at that. He couldn’t give two fucks about what people thought of him, but that was his girl and his baby. The anger inside of him had clearly transformed the look on his face because Rhys nodded at the sight.

“That was your girl’s thoughts exactly because the next thing we knew, Elain was out of her seat and punching Ianthe square in the nose.” Pride over took him then at the image it provided him. His beautiful Ellie all fired up. As he looked at her he could see the pride she too felt about herself, but her lips were also formed into a shy smile. His girlfriend was not violent, never had been. She was kind, loving and so amazingly sweet; it was part of the reason he’d fallen in love with her. The opposite of him but she also matched him perfectly.

“That’s my girl.” He breathed the words with such awe, watching the way Elain flushed at the praise, from her cheeks, down her neck and then it disappeared, hidden by the clothes she was wearing. Azriel didn’t need to see though, he knew exactly what it would look like from their times together. Part of his anatomy stirred at the thought of getting her naked again, making that flush spread all over. Thought of the way she’d gasp and bite her lip when he traced it gently with his fingertips. He shook his head of the thoughts when Elain spoke softly, the first time since they’d all gotten home.

“Could the rest of you give us a minute please?” Both Rhys and Cassian turned to look at him, both of them with matching, shit eating grins on their faces as they wiggled their brows. Feyre and Nesta rolled their eyes at the pair, forcefully dragging their boyfriends’ from the room despite their protests. When they were alone, Elain slowly walked over to stand in front of him where he was sitting, holding her hands out to him. He raised his own and placed them in hers, feeling the way she squeezed gently before her beautiful voice filled the room again. “I know it’s awful of me but before today, sometimes I regretted that night we shared.” His face fell at the confession and he went to pull his hands away, but Elain only gripped his hands tighter.

“Ellie...”

“No, listen. It’s just that, on the bad days since then, I just didn’t feel like me anymore, you know? I felt like I had lost myself, lost the person that I was.” All Azriel could do was nod, not understanding where she was going with this, but he listened anyway. “But then today, today Ianthe happened. She said those things, called us those names and I just sort of lost it. She called our little girl a bastard and so I punched her and fuck, it felt so fucking amazing to do that. I actually felt good.” She deserved to feel good because of that. Ianthe had always been a raging bitch, an attention seeking one at that. It was about time that somebody put her in her place.

A wonderful and breathtaking smile broke out over her face, twisting her hands to bring his own to her stomach, curving them around one spot to the side. “And when I was walking to the principal’s office, I took comfort in holding our baby, just in time to feel that.” At which point, she pushed his hands down a little harder, and he felt something flutter beneath his palm. He was confused for a moment but then it happened again, making shock and astonishment overtake him. Elain took her own hands away, just letting him feel all on his own and cupped his cheek, tilting his head back to look at her.

“Is that what I think it is?” She nodded, laughing quietly and he let every emotion wash over him, tears spilling down his cheeks. They were brushed away by gentle thumbs before letting his head drop so he could press his face to the movements, feeling the little thud, thud, thud, against his cheekbone. Gods it was so fucking surreal, being able to feel the way his little girl moved, making her presence known in the best way she possibly could.

“It was like she was telling me that everything was alright, that she was the one that was there for me, not the other way around. And I knew, I knew then in that moment I could never regret it, could never regret you. I could never regret her. It simply wasn’t possible to do so because I love you both, so terribly much.”

“I love you too, Ellie. You have no idea how fucking much.” He pushed up her clothes, baring her bump to him and he pressed his lips to her warm skin, kissing the little flutters he could feel there. His daughter’s movements sped up as he spoke against skin, pouring his heart out to the girls who meant the world to him.

“And you, my angel, daddy loves you more than words can describe. You are my greatest gift and I promise you, to protect and love you, until the day my heart stops beating. Maybe not even then, sweetheart.”

----------

Oh my god, I gave you more fluff, who am I?;)) If you want to be added/removed from the tags then just give me a shout!!

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[shadowturtlesstuff]

>Falling<

Feysand fanfic

Might turn into a mini series. Maybe. Enjoy:

I hear the locker next to me open and I pull my head from my own locker and hide behind my hair whilst I dry my face with my sleeve.“Feyre, darling, wonderful morn-“ he stops before I have the chance to scowl and tell him to piss off. “Darling what’s wrong?” He spins me around to face him, hair flinging over my shoulder to show my red face. I stutter as I search his eyes for any sort of trick. I only see concern. His hands find there way onto my face, his cool hands stroking a tear that betrays me. “Nothing, Rhys.” I lie.

“Tell that to your tears darling.” He gives a small smile. A true smile, not his usual smirk. This is a trick. He’s obviously heard, the whole school has. Tamlin probably set his minions on me to try and trick me to be his again. Why would rhys help Tamlin though? I blink, breaking my trance from Rhys deep violet eyes. Shaking me head I force his hands from me and taking a step back.

“No. Rhys just piss off.” I say, my hourse voice taking any confidence away. Rhys looks shocked and hurt. He splutters and apology as I pick up my bag from the ground. “I have to go.” Only a half lie, we have 5 minutes till the bell, a time in which I’ll stay in the bathroom.

I turn away from him but he grabs my arm more gentle than I expected, I gasp but don’t try and pull back. “Feyre. Who made you cry?” He asks stepping forward, his towering muscular body, one that intimidates most, does not make me shrink back. I force myself to stand higher and to meet his gaze.

“Why do you care? Rhys… I’m not your concern. I’m no ones. Now please,” more silent tears fall down my face, “please, leave me alone.”

It’s been an hour since Rhysand saw me. My lesson ended 10 minutes ago and I haven’t moved from the art room all lunch. I know if I do Tamlin or Lucien will track me down and I just can’t handle them right now. I can barley handle the teacher, let alone the cause of my current sadness. So i hid in the art room, content to stay there till the end of the day. I was working on a new project, something that I shouldn’t have been able to, and shouldn’t be able to picture it so vividly. The faces yes, the action no.

I’m painting Tamlin and Ianthe, for the fifth time now. Each time a new wave of anger or sadness rolls over me. Each time there is a new aspect, the first was just a sketch that led to the one I’m currently doing,having me in, staring in horror at what is happening.

I sit for another 20 minutes until the final bell. I made it half the day without being seen by them. Or anyone for that matter. I pack away my supplies and start heading out of the art room. I turn the last corner to leave the building when I walk into a wall. “Fuck.” I breath out as the paints fall from my hand and slam into the wall. As I bend down I hear another curse word, I look up to find the wall I bumped into was Rhysand. I curse again. Behind him are Cassain and Azriel. One a solid mass of no emotion and the other smirking at Rhys. I sigh and start to pick up my supplies. Why did I bring my acrylics today, if I brought my water colors I would’ve picked them all up by now and not have to deal with these people. Rhys bends down to help me, which I ignore even if he politely hands them back to me. When I’m done I stand, along with Rhys, and notice that Azriel and Cassain has gone. Not that it matters because I’m leaving Rhys right now too.

“Feyre, darling, are you okay?” Rhys stops me in my tracks.

“Yes. And stop calling me darling.”

“That’s not happening. Feyre, I’m sorry for what happened.”

“So the whole school knows now? Fan-fucking-tastic! Look Rhys I don’t want your pity I just want to go home and bury myself under brackets, eat ice cream, watch some shit romance film while I cry. Okay? Now please move out of my way so I can do that.” I explain as I try to step around him.

“No, you shouldn’t be alone, and Tamlin will go to your house and trick you back to dating him.”

“Trick?” I raise my brow at him. I knew Tamlin would but I knew I just wouldn’t open the door for him to try.

“Yes, I heard him in chemistry, making a plan how he would ‘take back what was his.’” He air quotes that stops me dead.

“I’m not a possession…”

Rhys grabs my chin gently and lifts it up so he can look into my brown eyes.

“Feyre darling, stay with someone for the time being. Tamlin isn’t safe.”

“Yes he is. He has never hurt me.” I defend him, it’s only partially true. Tamlin has hurt me, but not hard enough to mark or for me to care that it was abuse. “I’ll be fine, stop worrying about me Rhys.”

“Never. How about this feyre, stay with me for a bit, then go home.” He let’s go of my face and takes both arms in his hands, rubbing gently. He gives me a genuine smile. I don’t understand why he cares so much, and why I feel so safe with him. “Okay.” I whisper, not trusting my own voice. A tear drops down my face, a tear Rhys kisses away. I flinch at first but he pulls away from his lingering kiss, giving me another soft smile. “Let me put my stuff back in the room, and I’ll be ready.” I pull away from him and rush into the art room.

I place everything at the back near my painting and go to rush back out. But again I bump into a wall. I fall again, this time hitting my arm of a table and cursing as pain sweeps through. I panic thinking Tamlin finally came to the art room, but as I look up I find another well built football player in black clothes and a man bun. Cassain. He’s smirking as he stands watching me. I get up and hold my arm so I don’t make the pain worse. “What do you want Cass?”

He stays where he is, a shit eating smirk still on his face. “Feyre. I think you fell in love with the wrong person.

I give him a look. “Don’t worry. I’ve spent my whole life falling in love with people that didn’t love me back.” I sigh and move past Cassain with ease. I think about everyone who claimed to love me. My alcoholic father who doesn’t seem to love any of my sisters let alone me. Isaac, who also left me for someone else. And now Tamlin. A man I spent so long perfecting myself for. A man who claimed to love me, who never left me out of his sight. The only two people who love me are my sisters, and that’s a stretch considering Nesta is.. Is Nesta.

I find Rhys outside taking to Azriel, who also suddenly appeared. They are in a serious looking conversation so I walk down the hallway and text Elain I’m not coming home yet. Then I go back and find Rhys and Az in a hug, Rhys nodding and as saying something to him. Then they let go and Azriel walls off, I assume to find Cassain, leaving me with Rhys.

“Feyre darling. Let’s go.” He offers his arms out and I scoff. Tamlin use to take my hand in his as we walked, he never offered his arm. I take it and we walk in silence out of school.

“We are going to a dinner, one that I guarantee you haven’t been to, and one you’ll love.”

“Rhys there are so many places I haven’t been to. I don’t really go out anyway.”

“Did Tamlin never take you out for dinner?”

“Only the one his parents own, and where he works. Normally when it’s his shift I have to have dinner there and wait for him to finish.” I don’t know why I’m explaining everything to Rhys, I never explained it to anyone, including Lucien (Tamlin’s best friend) I just keep my answers small so they don’t ask me anything else.

“Where you allowed to do anything?” Rhys stops us and spins me to face him, his brows are beamy in confusion and his lips a grin line.

“What do you mean?”

“Did Tamlin leave you to do what you wished to do?”

I think about this. Normally I would say yes, even if I know it isn’t true. But I don’t need to defend him anymore. And for some strange reason I trust Rhysand. A person Tamlin said I couldn’t talk to ever because they hated each other. However the time I’ve spent with Rhys shows me that he is a good man. A person I somehow trust more than Tamlin.

“Not really.” I admit. For the first time to anyone. I feel lighter, like the confession what weighing me down. I feel like crying again, but I don’t, I don’t think I have many tears left. And I don’t want Rhys kissing my face again.

“Oh darling. You spent two years with him. He made you into this submissive skeleton,” we both look down. And for the first time I see how much weight I’ve lost in two years, “feyre that isn’t fair on you. I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, but, we’ll Tamlin hates me, and I didn’t want to face him after everything he’s done.”

“What did he do?” I whisper, unsure if I want the answer. He hesitates before answering me.

“He, he, drove home from a party late, and crashed into my mother’s car, killing her and my sister. To this day he has never said sorry, only that it wasn’t his fault and he doesn’t care they are dead.” It’s Rhys turn to look away as he fights back tears. I gasp, unsure how I fell in love with that monster. I pull him into a tight hug, my arms settling around his shoulders and his around my back. We stand there comforting each other for quite sometime, both of us not wanting to let go. Rhys finally does, he pulls back and rest his forehead on mine. His purple eyes stare into mine, both transfixed with the emotions swimming around in the. We both made ourselves vulnerable and neither regret it.

“What do you want to do darling?”

[bookaholic1012]

Prythian Magazine Part 17

A/N: There really is no plot in this. It’s literally a chapter of fluff.

PM Masterlist  My Writing

“I’m so glad you three could make it!” Tarquin called, Varian following closely behind.

“Thank you for inviting us, Tarquin. Your new line is beautiful!” Feyre said.

She had briefly met Tarquin and Varian before the show, and immediately liked them, Tarquin especially. He was a very sweet, kind man. Tarquin had an aura of comfort and ease surrounding him that attracted Feyre to him. Not romantically, though, because she couldn’t move on so soon after leaving Tamlin, even if he was an abusive bastard. It was why she refused to acknowledge Rhys and what she felt towards him.

“Yes, it was very generous of you.” Rhys agreed.

Feyre felt awkward being around Rhys because she kept thinking back to when he asked her to come in person. One look at how tired and wrecked he was made her want to hug him tightly, and comfort him until all his worries went away. Instead, she was cold to him, refusing to say anything other than her agreement to go to Adriata.

Tarquin waved away their thanks. “Don’t mention it. I’ve been wanting to meet you, Rhysand, for a while now to discuss ways to improve relations between our two courts. And you, Feyre, have been making headlines. I do sincerely hope you will be able to lock away Tamlin for a long while.”

“You believe me?” Feyre was shocked. More people believed Tamlin because of how long he has been in the spotlight. To them, Feyre was no one.

“Of course. I had unfortunate luck of meeting Mr. Springsteen once. It was absolutely dreadful. I have also met Lucien, the poor man. I have no doubt the two of you are telling the truth.” Tarquin explained. “But I didn’t invite you here to talk about that. During your stay, I wish for you to be comfortable.”

“Thank you, Tarquin.” Feyre managed to say, struck by Tarquin’s position in all this.

“Your welcome. All of you will of course be staying with me, of course. No guest of mine will be staying in some hotel. Now come! Unless of course any of you would prefer to stay for the after party. I for one am in no mood, but I can make sure someone will stay with you until you wish to leave.” Tarquin glanced at Varian and Amren, who were talking in hushed tones to each other. “And I’m sure my dear cousin would like to be alone with Amren.” His tone had a suggestive note to it, earning him a glare from Varian.

Feyre immediately agreed. As did Rhys and Amren. She was struck by the beauty of Tarquin’s mansion - really, it was the only fitting term. It was situated near the coast, which She was sure resulted in gorgeous views from the balcony. His home was old-fashioned looking, a nice contrast from all the neighboring modern houses. Fountains lead up to the intricate iron door.

The inside was even more grand. Paintings and pictures hung everywhere, but not in a way that made everything seem crowded. Every piece of furnishing was placed with care. The dark sapphire blue walls was a color Feyre was determined to remember for if - no, when - she would paint again.

“You should take design tips from Tarquin.” She murmured to Rhys, the first words Feyre voluntarily said to him since his confession.

He let out a chuckle. “Do you not like how my townhouse looks?”

She did. The first time she saw it was when Az had told everyone the plan to bring here back to Tamlin. Feyre instantly fell in love with the decor purely because everything about it screamed Rhysand.

“It could use some improvement.” She teased.

“Ah, well, seeing as I’m the only one currently living there, I’ll decline. However, if someone were to move in who shared the same sentiments as you, Darling… I may be persuaded reconsider.”

“Prick.” Feyre muttered, her cheeks heating; there was no doubt in her mind that the “someone” Rhys was referring to was none other than herself.

“Up the stairs to your left will be your room, Feyre. Rhysand, yours is the one next to hers. And Amren… I’m going to assume you’ll be with Varian?” Tarquin said, a raised eyebrow thrown in her direction.

“You assume correctly.” Amren replied, her smile nothing short of wicked, before dragging Varian up the stairs.

“I have to attend to some work, but I’ll have someone bring up your bags. Good night, Feyre. Rhysand.”

Rhys smiled at Tarquin. “Please, Tarquin, call me Rhys.”

“Very well. Good night, Rhys.” Tarquin said before walking away.

Rhys and Feyre walked up the stairs in silence, and for the first time in weeks, it was a comfortable silence. When they got to Feyre’s door, Rhys turned to her.

“Good night, Darling. Sleep well.” Feyre snorted to herself. As if she would be able to sleep through the night. Rhys leaned in a little, but stopped short. Feyre knew what Rhys was going to do. She also knew that he wouldn’t kiss her forehead because of how she acted around him.

Instead, Feyre leaned up to kiss Rhys’s cheek. Rhys stilled, his eyes closing to savor the feel of her lips against his skin. “Good night, Rhys.” She whispered, pulling back.

“Feyre darling…” Rhys started to say, but she shook her head. Not now.

Feyre stepped into her room, leaving Rhys in the hallway, wondering what spurred her action. To be honest, Feyre didn’t know why she kissed his cheek either.

Feyre fell asleep that night with her lips tingling from the touch of Rhys’s warm, golden skin.

Mor was curious as to what Andromache had planned. The entire Saturday she kept asking Andi what she was talking about on the phone, but all Mor got in return were vague answers.

It was Andromache’s evasiveness that prompted Mor to wear a sinfully tight red dress for their date. The spaghetti strap dress was full length, outlining every curve. The neckline plunged to show a borderline scandalous amount of cleavage, and the back… well, it simply wasn’t there. A slit in the dress ran up to her thigh. Mor finished the look with black heels, lots of golden bangles, carefully styled hair, and smokey eyes with wine red lips. Underneath was a little something Mor picked up from Victoria’s Secret. Judging by the way Andi kept looking at Mor, her plan was working.

Andromache looked equally stunning. She wore a white dress that went down to her knees. It had lace sleeve and was a loose fit. Her beautiful brown hair was put in a messy bun that enhanced the look. She wore dangly silver earrings and a simple charm bracelet gifted to her by Mor when they celebrated her birthday together for the first time to accompany the outfit. She didn’t wear any makeup, but Andromache didn’t need it; she was a natural beauty. Andi also had a white clutch she kept fiddling with.

The whole evening was spent with the two talking about anything and everything and laughter. After splitting the bill, Andi and a Mor went for a walk. Andromache led Mor through an empty park, the moonlight shining down on them.

“Mor,” Andi said, pausing on a bridge going over a small river. “I have something to ask you.”

“Is this what you’re going to ask me what you were talking about over the phone?” Mor asked, excited to finally know what Andi was hiding.

“It is.”

“Well? What is it?”

Andromache took a deep breath and opened her clutch. She pulled out a small black box. A jewelry box. One that could easily fit a ring.

Andromache got down on one knee.

“Andi…” Mor breathed.

“Shhh. Just...let me speak. Please.” All Mor could manage was a nod.

“Morrigan Zohar. Since the day I saw you, five years ago, I felt drawn to you. As if we were meant to find one another. I remember thinking how beautiful, smart, kind, and charming you were that day. I still think of you as that and more. When I asked you out… Cauldron I was nervous.” Andromache chuckled. “I never thought you would go out with me, but you did. I have loved you since our first date and everyday since. I know you are the only person I ever want to spend my life with. Will you marry me, Morrigan?”

Mor was speechless. She always knew that she favored women over men, but never imagined being lucky enough find a female she wanted to spend her life with. That is, until she met Andromache.

“Yes, Andi! Yes, I’ll marry you!” Morrigan cried. Andromache slipped the simple diamond ring on her finger and stood up to embrace her fiancée.

Under the moonlight, Morrigan and Andromache hugged and kissed and whispered sweet nothings to each other.

“I love you.” Cassian whispered into Lucien’s ear.

“Cassian, this is the fifth time you told me that in the past minute.” Lucien said warmly. “...I love you too.”

“I know. I just like saying it to you.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Cassian gasped. “Rude!”

Lucien laughed - he was doing more of that lately.

“Tell me more. What did you and Andras like to do together?” Cassian asked.

Cassian insisted on Lucien telling him everything about his and Andras’s relationship. He said it might help him, and it did. Lucien didn’t feel as weighed down by his previous boyfriend’s death as he had before. Of course he still missed him, but the nightmares and pain wasn’t as bad.

“He would always take me on picnics.” Lucien smiled fondly, recalling memories from another time. “It was something he did with his family growing up, so he insisted we do it too. At first I wasn’t sure, but I enjoyed myself. Whenever we had free time, that’s what we would do.”

“Is that something you want to do as well?” Cassian inquired, rubbing soothing circles into the back of Lucien’s hands.

“I’m not sure if I could do it now. Maybe one day.”

The two fell into a companionable silence.

“When Feyre started hanging out with us, she dragged us to various art museums.” Lucien huffed a chuckle. “She would always leave us to browse the displays.”

“That sounds like Feyre!” Cassian remarked.

“Once, Andras and I were in this garden. It had statues everywhere. I turned around and came face-to-face with a scary gargoyle one. I screamed and jumped back, but ended up tripping and falling into a fountain behind me.” Lucien’s cheeks burned when Cassian roared in laughter. “I may have a picture Andras sent me somewhere.”

“Now that I have to see!” Cassian managed to say.

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Lucien purred.

“Mmmm.” Cassian hummed. “Good thing I’m always good.” At that, Lucien snorted.

“I am!” He exclaimed.

“Sure you are, Cass.”

“You are so mean to me!” Cassian said jokingly.

Lucien rolled over on his bed to face Cassian. He placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Am I forgiven?”

“Y’know, I think I need more apologies.”

Lucien leaned back over to kiss him. Slowly, the kiss turned deeper. His tongue swept into Cassian’s mouth, exploring every inch - not that he needed much exploring.

Cassian flipped them over so he was on top. Lucien arched his back as Cassian ripped his mouth away to place small, wet kisses along his neck. A moan escaped Lucien’s mouth when Cassian sucked on the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

“Cass…” Lucien breathed. Cassian growled in approval.

Lucien flipped them over so he was now in control. He licked up the column of Cassian’s throat to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue.

The ping of an incoming text broke them apart.

“You should probably get that.” Cassian said in between kisses when Lucien ignored the onslaught of notifications he was getting in favor of feeling his boyfriend’s skin up beneath his lips.

“Fine.” Lucien said with irritation at being interrupted.

Feyre: I need your help!

Feyre: I kissed Rhys on the cheek, but now I don’t know what to do!

Feyre: It wasn’t a friendly kiss, but it wasn’t one shared between a couple either.

Feyre: What do I do now??

Feyre: How should I act around Rhys???

Feyre: Are you busy?

Feyre: Are you making out with Cass?

And there were more texts along the same lines.

Lucien: why would you think that?

Feyre: The last time I called you, that’s what you were doing. Were you?

Lucien: Yes.

Feyre: How was it!

Lucien: Fey! Really!

Feyre: Sorry. Can you help me? What do I do?

Lucien: You guys need to talk about this. Clearly you have feelings for Rhys. Just tell him!

Feyre: I don’t love Rhys!

Lucien: I never said you loved him. I said you had feelings for him. That’s different. And because you said love means you do.

Feyre: …shit….you’re right

Lucien: Obviously!

Feyre: What do I do?

Lucien: Tell him!!

Lucien: Now stop bugging me.

Feyre: Fine. I’m going to call you later!

“Well, I’m glad Feyre’s finally going to tell him.” Cassian said.

Lucien helped in surprise. “Cassian! Don’t read my messages over my shoulder!”

“Why not?”

“What if they were private?”

“I would’ve stopped reading them when I realized they were private!” Cassian was quiet for a moment. “Are you alright?”

Lucien cocked his head in question. “Of course. Why?”

“We never went that far with our kissing. I just wanted to make sure it was alright with you. I’m sorry if I took it too far.”

Lucien’s heart swelled with love for how considerate Cassian was being. “Yeah, I’m fine.” And he was.

“Good.” Cassian smiled and held Lucien closer to him.

“We should probably do something productive. It’s only the morning.” Lucien said.

“Like what?”

“Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure. You can pick.” Cassian said.

“The original Jumanji movie.”

“I’ll get it set up.” Cassian said, leaving Lucien with a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Make popcorn!” Lucien called after him.

“Got it!”

*Zohar means “light, brilliance” in Hebrew*

Andromache and Mor are engaged! Please let me know you’re thoughts on the chapter! Updates weekly on Saturdays!

Tagging: @ourbooksuniverse @sugarcoated44 @unicornbooks @ame233 @adgedarling @tyblckthrn

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[the-wheel-comes-full-circle]

The Snowball part 16

Hello, congrats if you've followed this so far, I really feel like you need a medal. This was supposed to be a one shot and now look it's 16 parts long haha.

Link to other parts, X

Feyre entered the living room shyly.

"I made you some tea?" She said quietly.

Rhys looked up from the tv to smile warmly at her. Feyre offered him the tea and stood awkwardly next to the couch.

"Did Mor ask you to babysit me?" Rhys teased.

Feyre hesitated. "Sort of. But Rhys I wanted to apologise for all the trouble I've caused."

Rhys immediately waved her off. "Feyre darling this is what family does, look out for each other."

To Feyre's horror she found herself beginning to tear up and her throat closing over. Feyre had her own family. But they had never made her feel so apart of something so intricate and wonderful like Rhys and his friends had.

Rhys seeming to sense this added soothingly, "Sometimes your family chooses you, Feyre. None of us really have our own blood families anymore, so we made our own."

"What happened to everyone else's?"

Sighing Rhys patted the seat next to him for her to join him.

"Cassian never really had a family, they abandoned him for whatever reasons. Azriel had a terrible step mother and siblings who abused him so he got away."

Feyre nodded, suddenly understanding the horrible scars she had seen on Azriel's hands.

"I've never really had the guts to ask about Amren's family, all I know is that they are far, far away. And Mor..."

Here Rhys hesitated, a dark shadow crossing his face.

"Mor is from a powerful family, they saw her as only a political tool to be wielded and gain more power. They arranged a marriage for her, to a brother of Lucien's actually."

Feyre gasped. From all that Lucien had told her, his family sounded like sadistic villains from a film.

"One night she met up with Cassian, knowing if her... virtue was compromised, especially with an Illyrian like Cassian, Lucien's family would disown her and the marriage wouldn't go ahead."

"She went to Cassian, not Azriel?" Feyre asked innocently.

"Ah. That is something I have never asked Mor about, and if you wish to keep your head, I'd suggest you not ask either. Those three will work it out."

"So after that, her family let her go live with you?"

"Not exactly. They beat her for her disobedience. That's when we got her away from them. We should've done it much sooner."

Raw guilt showed on Rhys's face and Feyre couldn't help but reach her hand out to grip his.

"You did what you could Rhys. For all of them. For me. I think I understand why Mor hates Tamlin so much now."

Rhys looked down at their intertwined hands with wonder in his eyes before replying.

"For the record we all hate Tamlin, but yes, Mor understands you a lot more than I think you ever give her credit for."

"What about you?" Feyre asked curiously.

"What about me?"

"Tamlin... mentioned something about your mother earlier. What was that about?"

Feyre expected Rhys's face to shut off. Block out what was clearly a sensitive topic for Rhys. But surprisingly he turned more towards her and gave her hand one more squeeze.

"I had a mother and father, they loved me very much, my little sister too."

Feyre had to fight to keep the shock off her face. Sister.

"Where are they?"

"Dead." Rhys said matter of factly.

Feyre didn't want to probe for answers, but she so desperately wanted to know what had happened. Wanted to know why Rhys never mentioned his family. Out of all of his friends, Rhys had actually had a family he cared about, one that was taken from him all the same.

Feyre waited patiently for him to go on. When shadows had stopped haunting Rhys's face and he had composed himself he continued, giving her hand another squeeze which Feyre was sure was a thank you for waiting.

"It was a few years ago. They were driving home from a dinner that I was supposed to be at too, but I had meetings. A drunk driver hit them on the freeway. The car flipped, killing everyone inside. My father, mother, and sister."

Feyre had her hand over her mouth in horror. "Rhys, I'm so sorry-"

"There's more." Rhys quietly interrupted.

Feyre immediately went silent, wondering how this story could get any worse.

"The drunk driver... was Tamlin's father. His family was in his car too. I don't even know why they would have allowed him to drive when he was so clearly drunk." Rhys said angrily. "Tamlin's parents and brothers all died at the scene, Tamlin was thrown from the car and somehow didn't die. He was the only survivor."

Feyre felt like she was about to throw up. She couldn't say anything. Offer up any condolences.

After several moments of silence she became aware that Rhys was tracing small, soothing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, doing his best to calm her. After all he had just told her, Rhys was the one calming Feyre.

"I can't believe he threw that in your face today." Feyre said disgusted.

"I've had worse said to me about it." Rhys said shrugging indifferently, but Feyre could tell from the tightness of his shoulders that the comment had bothered him.

"I'm sorry for bringing him back into your life." Feyre added quietly.

Rhys laughed softly. "You don't have to apologise all the time Feyre. Besides if it brought you to us, I don't mind in the slightest."

Feyre blushed as the intensity of Rhys's stare hit her and she had to look away.

Rhys looked like he was about to say more when his phone rang. It wasn't very loud but he winced and leaned away from the noise. Feyre grabbed it when he made no move to answer.

"Mor?" Feyre asked when she saw the caller ID.

"Hey Feyre, is Rhys okay, why didn't he answer?"

"He's fine, I was just closer to the phone." Feyre said glancing at Rhys worriedly who now had his head in his hands.

"Okay, well I just called to say that Amren and I are nearly done packing and will be home soon."

"Great! See you soon then." Feyre said quickly before hanging up, not wanting Mor to ask questions and worry about Rhys.

"Rhys?" Feyre asked quietly.

Rhys groaned and rubbed his forehead. "I'm fine, sorry. I just have a headache."

"Do you want some pain medication? The doctor gave us some in case you had any pain."

Rhys nodded slowly.

Feyre scrambled off of the couch to get her bag. She read the label that advised he should have two tablets before handing them to him, which he gulped down with his tea.

"Thanks." Rhys said smiling at her, when a funny look crossed his face. "Feyre, what did they give me before I left the hospital?"

"They gave you something before you left?" Feyre repeated.

Rhys nodded slowly. "Something for the pain." He said.

Feyre quickly read the label again which had a very big warning on it that said you couldn't take more than two tablets every 6 hours.

"Are you telling me you've had four of these in about an hour?" Feyre asked in horror.

"I mean probably? I forgot the nurse gave me something. I'm sure I'll be fine." Rhys said waving off her concern.

"Rhys! We should probably take you back, these are really strong, they're not just your average over the counter tablets!" Feyre said, a shrill panic in her voice.

"It's nothing. I do feel a bit tired though, I might go to bed."

"Oh no you don't, Mor specifically didn't want you falling asleep."

"The nurse said I was fine to sleep." Rhys frowned like a grumpy child.

"Only if you didn't have any symptoms! And you have a bad headache."

Rhys staggered to his feet. "You worry too much Feyre, I'm fine." Rhys slurred his voice almost like he was drunk before losing his balance and careening into an armchair.

"Rhys!" Feyre shouted.

She moved forward to help him but Rhys had already straightened up again and was moving towards the doorway.

"Rhys, slow down. You're going to injure yourself." Feyre couldn't help but laugh despite trying to sound serious, when Rhys bumped into the doorframe and then apologised to it.

Rhys made for the staircase with Feyre trailing after him like a lost puppy.

"Rhys please, you won't make it up the stairs. Just come sit back down on the couch."

Rhys ignored her and made it all of two steps up before he lost his balance and began windmilling his arms to stay upright. Feyre surged forward to keep him from falling. She sighed to herself, if Rhys was determined to go upstairs then she would have to help him.

She threw one of his arms over her shoulders and took most of his weight.

"Okay lean on me and I'll help you get up."

Rhys grinned stupidly at her as he realised he was getting his way. The two made their way up slowly, Rhys almost falling several times but Feyre always managed to pull him back in time, once having only a hold on his jacket.

When they finally reached the top of the stairs Feyre was flushed and sweaty from the exertion. Rhys seemed to find this endearing as he brushed away stray hairs from her face.

He grabbed a vase with flowers in it from nearby and offered it to her, Feyre wasn't sure if he was offering her the flowers or water but she accepted them anyway, laughing.

Rhys, looking pleased with himself for making her laugh, grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway.

Feyre quickly found a place for the vase of flowers before allowing Rhys to drag her away. She had never been upstairs before. When she realised that Rhys was taking her to his room she hesitated.

Even in his drugged up stupor, Rhys could feel her hesitation so he stopped just outside what was presumably the door to his room.

"You can wait for the others downstairs if you like." He said.

But Feyre knew Rhys would never leave her alone if she was in his state, and Mor had asked her to keep an eye on him. So Feyre shook her head and reached past Rhys to open the door.

Rhys immediately toppled in, catching himself just before hitting the ground.

Feyre laughed. "Maybe you should sit down."

Rhys sat on the edge of his bed, lifting a suggestive eyebrow at her, "Only if you join me Feyre."

Feyre laughed again at how ridiculous he sounded, trying to flirt while not being able to keep his eyes focused on her. Nonetheless, Feyre moved to sit next to him.

Feyre looked around his room curiously. It was mostly minimalist, decorated with dark furniture with flashes of silver. There were a few photos of him and Mor or with Cassian and Azriel, and one of a young girl with dark hair like him and piercing violet eyes. Feyre looked away quickly.

Rhys leaned back into a mountain of pillows and closed his eyes with a content smile on his face.

"Oh no you don't. No sleeping!" Feyre said, pinching his arm.

Rhys screwed up his face in mock pain but opened his eyes to watch as Feyre took off her shoes so she could also lie down. She was close enough to feel his body heat, but not close enough to actually touch him.

"Well if I can't sleep what can I do?" Rhys asked.

Feyre pondered this seriously before her eyes lit up. "Read to me."

Rhys huffed. "All the books are downstairs."

"Then tell me a story. Make one up." Feyre teased.

Rhys smiled back, closing his eyes as he began a story about a girl who married a prince, never seeing his face. Every night he would come to her in darkness and warned her that she should never look upon his face. But one night the girl became too curious and lit a candle after he fell asleep, revealing the form of a beautiful man.

Feyre felt like she was in a trance, listening to the soft tone of Rhys's voice who was telling the story expertly with great memory, as if the story had been told to him many times.

Rhys explained how an evil faerie had cursed the man to remain in an animal form by day, and becoming human again at night until someone loved him despite never seeing his face. When the girl saw his true face he was forced to return to the evil faerie in a castle east of the sun and west of the moon.

The girl managed to track the castle down and was tricked out of meeting her prince several times over but eventually after completing a task, she wins back the prince and the evil faerie is killed.

At some point Feyre had begun yawning and her head had dropped until it rested on Rhys's shoulder.

"Am I boring you that much?" Rhys laughed.

"No! That was a great story, I'm just really tired." Feyre rushed to assure him.

"I mean it's not like I'm complaining about this." Rhys said, looking down at Feyre and reaching an arm around her to pull her closer.

Rhys seemed to be holding his breath as he waited to see if Feyre would pull away, but instead Feyre rested an arm on his chest and turned her face closer to his shoulder so her voice was faintly muffled when she asked what the story was called.

"East of the Sun and West of the Moon." Rhys told her. "My mother used to tell it to me when I was young."

Feyre desperately tried to remain awake but exhaustion lined her every limb after all the stress and worry that had happened that day, and Rhys was so warm next to her. She lost a fight to contain a yawn and Rhys smiled at her.

"You can sleep if you want." He said softly.

Feyre shook her head. "Mor... told me... to watch you." She mumbled tiredly.

"I won't sleep. I promise."

Feyre sighed as Rhys tucked a blanket around her, keeping himself on top of the covers. He began quietly telling her a new story, and this time when Feyre's eyes closed, they didn't open again.

[birdiethebibliophile]

{fic} Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed (part 3)

Word Count:  3.3k Relationship:  Lucien/Cassian Characters:  Lucien, Cassian, Nesta, Mor Warnings:  Just some regular ole Sadness in this chapter

Here on AO3.

(Tagging @squaddreamcourt so you don’t miss this one! :) )

__________________

They were finally there, and Lucien wouldn’t get out of the truck.

“No,” he said flatly, head back against the seat. “No, Cass, okay?”

“Come on, Lu,” Cassian said, exasperated. “It’s not going to kill you.”

“Fuck off, Cassian.”

Cassian studied the other man through the open window. Body limp, as if he’d been tossed into the vehicle by someone who didn’t both to arrange his limbs properly. Eyes staring straight out the windshield. Mouth set in a line – Lucien’s normally thin lips, quick to smirk or snark, were almost invisible.

“It’s just the library, Lucien,” Cassian said quietly.

“Maybe I’ve become suddenly and dramatically allergic to paper. Ever thought of that?”

Cassian paused, then slowly went back around to the driver’s side of the truck and got in.

They sat that way – both looking forwards, neither acknowledging the other – for nearly fifteen minutes.

Lucien was the first one to crack, letting out a long, shaky breath. “Sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry,” Cassian said. “I should’ve listened to you the first time. Forgive me?”

Lucien nodded. “Yeah.”

Cassian glanced at him. “Is it… a job in general? Or libraries in particular? Or…”

“Both,” Lucien said after a moment. “My dad – my birth dad –” Cassian shifted, but didn’t ask him to clarify. “– has a thing with libraries. But more than that…” He paused to brace himself. “What if I can’t get a job? If I’m not qualified, or not what they want, or just not – enough?”

“Then we’ll find you a different one,” Cassian said. “All sorts of morons get jobs. Hell, all sorts of morons run this city, and yes, I include Rhys in that count. The question really is, do you want to try?”

Lucien stared out the windshield, russet eye blank.

“It doesn’t have to be today.” Cassian had just taken Lucien to therapy for the third time, and he knew the other man could be a bit… vulnerable afterwards. He should’ve remembered this – should’ve planned accordingly – but he’d been too excited about his idea. There was just something about Lucien that occasionally made him lose his mind utterly, which he also should’ve remembered.

“No. Today isn’t that much worse than any other day would be.” Lucien exhaled again, like he was reminding himself to breathe. “Just… give me a minute.”

Cassian nodded, pulling out his phone. He’d come to realize, even in the short time he’d known Lucien, that this happened a lot – gaps of silence that the other man seemed to need to catch up. Slow down. Get centered. Cassian didn’t really know which. Cassian was already used to filling these spaces with silent tasks. He’d read, or watch MMA videos with one headphone in, or text his brothers to tell them when he was free to get drinks. Lucien didn’t mind. He appreciated it, in fact – it allowed them communion without Lucien feeling like he was taking over Cassian’s life.

“All right,” Lucien said, sitting up in his seat.

Cassian turned off his phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his jeans. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

They both got out of the truck, Cassian locking the doors behind them, then headed across the parking lot to the library.

It was an oddly incongruous building, even in the mainly-residential area where Cassian spent most of his time. It was all sharp, elegant angles on the outside: crystal-clear windows and navy blue accents and LIBRARY printed in large, serifed letters over the front door. But once they got inside, Cassian thought as they walked through the heavy glass doors, it was very different. The walls were painted a comforting peachy-pink, and Cassian knew from experience that as long as you behaved and treated the books well, there were little nooks with rocking chairs and beanbags where you could stay for as long as you wanted. It was a haven, and had been as long as he remembered. He often saw homeless people, both men and women, sleeping at the worn wooden tables, and there were always a few tired adults printing out coupons for cat food or lugging their young children to storytime in the warm, brightly-lit basement. Once you got past the austere exterior, it was a place of safety.

It was, Cassian thought, not unlike the woman who worked there.

“Nesta,” he said, a smile spreading across his face as they approached the circulation desk.

The brown-haired woman, who looked to be in her late thirties, examined Cassian over the top of her glasses. “Cassian,” she said shortly.

He leaned against the desk, bracing his forearms on the surface. “C’mon, Nes, aren’t you glad to see me?”

“Not until you’ve paid your fines,” she said, turning a page in her book.

Cassian’s smile fell. “Damn. I forgot all about that. How much?” He dug in his pockets, pulling out his wallet.

“Six dollars and twenty-two cents,” Nesta said without looking up.

Cassian counted out the cash and placed it on the desk. “Now are you glad to see me?”

Nesta gathered up the money, counted it twice, put it in the register nearby, then typed something into the computer. Finally, she looked up, taking off her glasses and closing them with a small click. Her blue-grey eyes took both of them in, and the corner of her mouth quirked slightly. “Let’s go with that I don’t object to your presence. Who’s your little friend?” She pointed at Lucien with her glasses.

“This is Lucien,” Cassian said, stepping back to stand beside him.

“Nes? Who’re you talking to?” A lovely woman with blonde hair going grey at the roots and warm brown eyes strode out of the back office. She was wearing a sharp business suit. Her face tightened as she took them in. “Lucien Kelly. What are you doing here?”

Lucien looked vaguely ill. “I should go,” he muttered, turning as if to leave.

“Wait,” Cassian said. “Mor? A word?”

Mor waited until the door to Nesta’s office was closed before exploding – quietly. “What the hell, Cassian?” she hissed.

“I could ask you the same,” he snapped, then sighed. “Sorry. Listen. I know you haven’t spent a lot – any – time with him, but it’s not what you think. Feyre brought him with her because he was a victim of Tamlin’s abuse just as much as she was. I don’t know his whole story, but he’s gone through some shit, and he needs a fresh start.”

Mor tapped the toe of her shoe lightly on the carpet as she thought. Finally, she ran a hand through her hair, raised her eyes to heaven, and nodded. “You know I’d never deny a trauma victim help,” she said. “And I suppose as long as Feyre’s forgiven him…”

“She has. He’s been living with her and Rhys, actually.”

“Which he didn’t bother to tell me about,” Mor added in a grumpy sort of voice.

Cassian smiled. “You sound like Nes. She’s rubbing off on you.”

Mor’s face softened at the mention of her wife. “Well, we have been married nearly ten years. I should hope so.”

“Just give him a chance, Mor,” Cassian said softly. “Please. For me.”

Mor nodded. “I will. Can’t promise anything about Nesta, though.”

“Oh, I think they’ll get along swimmingly,” Cassian said, pushing the door back open and heading out from behind the desk.

“Who will?” Nesta asked, one finger marking her place in her book.

“You and Lucien,” Cassian said. “Seeing as he’s applying for a job here.”

Nesta’s gaze snapped to Lucien. “You are, are you?”

Lucien shifted slightly. “I was hoping so. Are there… forms I can fill out, something like that?”

Nesta sighed, flipped through a folder, and handed him a few sheets stapled together. “Get this back to me by the end of the day today,” she instructs. “And I’ll consider it.”

“I won’t have any references.”

“You have Cassian,” Nesta remarked. Something like a smile crossed her face. “In terms of character, at least, I trust his word. You’ll have to prove the rest of it.”

“Thanks,” Lucien said. “Cass… do you mind if…?” He gestured to the forms.

“Not at all. Here – I’ll show you someplace to fill them out.” Cassian grabbed a pen from the desk, winked at Nesta (who scowled at him), and led the way deeper into the library.

“So,” Lucien said, following Cassian through the shelves.

“So,” Cassian agreed.

“Nesta seems… nice.”

“She warms up to you,” Cassian said.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“For what seems like forever,” he replied. “She worked here as a volunteer when I was a kid. She was just a teenager herself, then, but she’d keep an eye on me when I’d sleep at the tables, you know? Make sure no one disturbed me…”

“You…” Lucien sounded startled.

Cassian glanced over his shoulder. “I was homeless, on my own, from when I was about five to a few months after I turned nine,” he said baldly. “That’s when Rhys and his mom came into the picture. Spoiled little rich kid that Rhys was, he saw me on the street and asked in that snotty way he still has sometimes why I was so dirty. Obviously, I punched him in the face.”

Lucien’s eye widened. “What happened?”

Cassian laughed a little. “His mom broke us up before either of us could do anything but give each other bloody noses and a black eye apiece. She asked me if I had anywhere to sleep. I said no. She asked if I wanted one. I said yes.” Cassian turned away from Lucien again. “She… I was part of their family from then on. Just like that,” he said, blinking away the sudden sting of tears in his eyes. He’d thought fifteen years would make it hurt less. He’d been wrong.

“What… if you don’t mind talking about it,” Lucien ventured after a moment. “What happened to her? Rhys said his parents were dead.”

“Leukemia,” Cassian said softly. “When Rhys and I were fifteen and Azriel was thirteen.”

“I’m sorry.” Cassian stopped at the feeling of Lucien’s cool hand on his arm. “Cass?”

“Yeah?” He turned and looked at the other man.

“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” Lucien said. “And a wonderful mother.”

“She was.” Cassian swiped a quick hand across his face. “Here’s the place.” He sank into a nearby beanbag chair, leaving Lucien the cushioned chair before the table. “Take your time filling out the application. If I know Nesta, it’s long and complicated.”

“Right.” Lucien sat down and started filling in blanks, but then put the pen down. “So that’s Nesta. And Mor… knows me already.”

“She knows of you,” Cassian corrected. “She’s Rhys’s VP – they’re good friends. She would’ve heard about you from him or Feyre.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t think she’d react like that. I didn’t think she’d even be here.”

Lucien propped his chin in one hand, balancing his elbow on the edge of the table. “I’m not really surprised. I can’t blame her. I… I let Tamlin abuse Feyre for months and turned a blind eye.” He tapped his cheekbone over his scar. “She was sick. She was my friend, and she was sick, and hurting, and I did nothing about it. She was right – what she said to me in that alley. I gave up on her.”

Cassian looked up sharply. Lucien’s skin had a pasty hue to it, and he looked like he was going to be sick. Immediately, Cassian got up and sat in the chair next to Lucien. “Lu?”

Lucien shook his head, eyes blind. “I told her not to take me with her,” he said hoarsely. “I told her… to leave me there…” His hands dropped into his lap. They were trembling.

“Lucien.” Very slowly, Cassian reached out and touched the backs of Lucien’s hands. “Listen to me. You’re here in the library. You’re safe. And it is not your fault.”

Lucien’s breath shuddered in his throat. He didn’t respond.

Cassian let the warm weight of his palms cover Lucien’s hands, which were splayed like he wasn’t aware of their presence. “Lucien,” he said again. “Tamlin hurt you, too. What he did isn’t your fault.” He swallowed, then, “You deserve to be safe. You deserve to be happy. And you deserve to have your own life. That’s why you’re here.”

Then he waited.

It was a long, long moment before Lucien’s eyes met his.

“What do you need?” Cassian asked.

“Just – just stay here for a minute. Like this. With your hands on mine,” Lucien whispered. His head tipped forward as if his neck couldn’t support it.

“Okay.”

Cassian didn’t know how long they sat there. He felt as if he could’ve sat there forever, with his hands resting on Lucien’s and the other man’s head bent, red hair falling in a curtain around his face. It was like a dream. They were both so quiet, he thought he could hear Lucien’s heartbeat. It sounded, in his head, like the whir of a hummingbird’s wings. Like when you listened to a baby’s heartbeat on an ultrasound and you couldn’t identify single beats – just a constant a-whoosh a-whoosh a-whoosh, as if the baby’s heart was beating so fast everything ran together. That’s what Lucien’s heart would sound like, Cassian thought. Quick as his tongue. Vulnerable as his soul.

Eventually, Lucien’s breath quieted, and he lifted his head. “Thanks,” he said, eyes still lowered.

“Hey. No problem,” Cassian said with a small smile. “Anytime.” He took his hands away, but immediately missed that point of contact. It felt like breaking a circuit – disconnected and wrong.

“I’ll, um, finish filling this out, then,” Lucien said, picking up his pen once more.

“Only do it if you want to,” Cassian told him. “I – you know, I didn’t ask if you wanted to work here, really. I won’t be offended if you want to try somewhere else.”

Lucien shook his head, pushing his hair out of his face and tucking it behind one ear. “No, I like it here,” he admitted. “It’s quiet. Organized. And I like books. I haven’t read a lot lately, and I’d like to start again.”

“What about Nesta?”

That actually drew a smile out of him. “I like her, too.”

“After one meeting?” Cassian leaned back in his chair with a laugh. “It usually takes people at least five to warm up to her at all. And most give up before then.”

“No, really,” Lucien said. “I mean, sure, she’s prickly, maybe even ornery, but she’s…” He trailed off, seemingly unable to find a suitable word.

“Safe,” Cassian said quietly.

Lucien turned to him. “Yeah. Safe. How… did you know?”

“How did I know what?”

“That this would be a good place for me.”

Cassian considered that, tipping his chair back on two legs. “Lucky guess?”

“Well – thanks. I owe you. Assuming I get the job.”

“As I said the other day, friends can do favors for each other,” Cassian said firmly. “If you really want to do me a favor in return, you can cook me dinner sometime. Rhys and Feyre have that nice kitchen, I’m sure they’d –”

“I can’t cook,” Lucien interrupted.

Cassian let his chair’s legs fall back to the floor with a thump. “When you say you can’t cook,” he began, “do you mean –”

“I can’t even crack an egg, Cass,” Lucien said, tone ironic. “I mean, I could microwave you a pizza, but I don’t think that’s exactly what you had in mind.”

“There’s only one solution to this, obviously,” Cassian informed him, leaning forwards and raising a single finger. “I have to teach you to cook.”

Color rose sharply in Lucien’s cheeks. It would’ve been hard for Cassian to believe he’d looked so sick a few minutes ago, if not for the lingering tremor in his hands. “I thought the point was for me to do something nice for you.”

“You will,” Cassian said with a grin. “You’ll give me an excuse to, one, make food for people, which is one of my favorite pastimes; two, teach someone something, which is my other one; and three, make sure you’ll never starve if you’re equipped with a stove, a frying pan, and an uncracked egg. You know the saying. Give a man a fish, and he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish…”

“I already know how to fish,” Lucien informed him, his cheeks still rather pink.

“You do?” Cassian said. “You never cease to surprise me, Lu.”

Lucien smiled at that. “I camped a lot when I was younger. I, um, taught myself to catch trout in the streams.” He paused. “With my bare hands.”

“Lucien,” Cassian said, genuinely impressed. “That’s some Mulan shit right there. I’m impressed, bro.”

Lucien ducked his head to hide his growing smile. “One of my few talents. Along with charming business moguls and arranging flowers.”

“All right, then if I ever need any flowers arranged, you’re the man I’ll call,” Cassian said. “And you can teach me the fish-catching thing sometime. Deal?”

“Deal,” Lucien agreed. “How do you know how to cook, anyways?”

“Rhys’s mom made sure we all knew how to do that kind of stuff. Cook, clean, do our own laundry. She didn’t want us to be…” Cassian trailed off uncertainly. “…dependent on anyone.”

“Makes sense,” Lucien said with a sigh. “You can see where that gets you. Twenty-six, unemployed, and living in your friend’s apartment.”

“Not unemployed for long,” Cassian reminded him, tapping the application. “You done with that?”

“Yeah, almost.” Lucien bent over the forms again. After a moment, though, he straightened up again. “Why the hell does she want me to say what my favorite food is?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s so if she finds any food stains in her books, she can identify the culprit,” Cassian said. “I think she started that a couple years ago after an employee left boysenberry jam all over her favorite copy of On the Back of the North Wind.”

Lucien shrugged and started writing. Cassian craned his neck, but he couldn’t read Lucien’s spiky handwriting upside down.

“Would you like to see?”

Cassian started, his neck heating, to find Lucien smirking at him. “You seem curious. Here.” He flipped the paper around.

Apple pie, Cassian read. “I would’ve thought you’d like some neo-vegan crap.”

Lucien pulled the papers back towards him and started writing again. “I’m vegetarian, not vegan, Cass,” he reminded the other man. “Also, just because I don’t eat meat, it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy food.”

“Wait.” Cassian narrowed his eyes. “You said you caught fish.”

Lucien flushed, glancing up. “Guilty. Fish is different. Sometimes I’m a pescatarian?”

Cassian laughed. “I’m not judging you. So, hypothetically, if I cooked salmon sometime, would you eat it?”

“Probably,” Lucien admitted. “My doctor says it’s good for me to get whatever good oils and stuff are in fish.”

“And also you like it.”

Lucien glared at him. Cassian just lifted his eyebrows, so he sighed. “Yes. And also I like it.” He put down his pen. “There. Application complete.”

“Awesome.” Cassian checked his watch, stood up, and stretched. “Back to the circulation desk, and then do you want me to drop you off at Feysand’s before my class at four?”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucien stood up as well. “Let’s go.”

 It wasn’t until Cassian stopped the truck in front of Rhys and Feyre’s place that Lucien asked, “Cass? Do you really think I could get that job?”

“Yeah,” Cassian said. “And not just because I’m your friend. I really do.”

“We’re not friends,” Lucien said automatically, but he was smiling all the way up to the door, when he turned and waved at Cassian before the other man drove away.

[one-day-i-will-write]

Feysand Modern AU, Part 3

JFC I have no idea what happened here but I am out of practice. Also v long chapter but I haven’t submitted stuff in so long that you guys deserve it.

So sorry if this is bad my writing seems to have taken a hit.

Part 1 | Part 2

Over a week passed and Feyre was happy to have someone to talk to, besides Morrigan, who seemed to know exactly how to react. Though Rhysand did have a new game he liked to play called “Scenarios that lead to me punching Tamlin in the face.” He’d gotten rather ridiculous with the new ones, lately, but they made Feyre smile and laugh all the same. She wasn’t quite sure how to process Rhysand’s reaction to her smile. It was like he lived for them.

Which was absolutely ridiculous. Men like Rhys went after super models, not clunky artists who cried on their shoulder.

She’d recently taken to drawing him. Especially while he was working. He’d become a freelance writer, his family’s wealth allowed him to pursue whatever career he wanted, and sometimes spent hours staring at a laptop or pad of paper. He had a habit to tapping his bottom lip with a pen, even while writing on his laptop. Feyre loved to draw Rhys like that. 

Now he was on one of their dining room chairs, his head thrown over the back of the seat with a book resting on his face. His dinner plate, half cleared, sitting on the table. Apparently, he’d been hired to do a book review. Evidently, it was not a good book.

They were quiet. Feyre could hear the Rhysand’s steady breaths against the pages and the calming sound of charcoal on drawing paper. Finally, she could stop herself from commenting.

“That’s not the proper way to read a book, Rhysand, darling.” She smirked, hijacking her nickname for her always made her do so.

“I suppose I’m hoping to simply absorb the story.” He took to book off his face, throwing it onto the table before running his hands through his hair. “At least that would save me the torture of actually reading it.”

“Somebody worked hard on that, you know.” Feyre huffed as she tried to get the edge of the book right from memory now.

“Not as hard as you’re working on that drawing, I’d wager.” Feyre heard Rhys stand and begin to walk over to her. She hugged the pad as close to her chest as she could, without risking smears. “What are you drawing, anyway? A beautiful subject I hope.”

“I suppose.” Feyre bit her lip, debating on showing him. Finally, she lowered the pad enough so he could see.

“A beautiful subject indeed.” Rhys reached out a hand, his fingers so close to brushing the page. “You’re very talented, Feyre.”

“No, I mean look at the lines. I couldn’t get them right.” She was blushing, she could feel the heat creeping from her cheeks.

“Always so hard on yourself.” Feyre looked up to see Rhys shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised, you don’t seem to know how amazing you truly are.”

“You must say that to all the girls.” Feyre tried to joke, to try and make the situation a little lighter.

Rhysand huffed a laugh. Feyre watched as he moved around to settle next to her on the couch. His body turned towards her and his head resting on his hand.

“Do you really not agree?” His violet eyes were so focused on her, Feyre couldn’t turn away. “You are smart and beautiful. Kind and passionate. Gentle and fierce. And so, so talented.” He nodded towards her drawing, which she had put on the coffee table at some point, with the last point.

“You are amazing, Feyre. And anyone should be so lucky as to call you friend, even luckier to have your love.” Rhys’s voice softened until he trailed off, and it was like he was suddenly unsure of himself. Feyre didn’t realize she was crying until he reached to brush away a tear.

It only took another moment before she made her decision. Leaning forward, so slowly, she gently kissed him. It was chaste and sweet. When she pulled away, he was staring at her in shock.

“I’m sorry, I thought-“ But he stopped her with a kiss. Feyre relaxed into the kidd, happy that she hadn’t misread him. She smiled as his hand came up to cup her cheek, Rhys’s thumb gently stroking her cheekbone.

Then his hand came around to twist his fingers in her hair. She decided to dare once again, and bit his lip. Rhysand’s answering groan sent shivers down her spine. Suddenly she was on her back, hands gripping his hair and pulling him closer. Always closer. Feyre felt light headed, from lack of air or the way the man above her made her feel she couldn’t say. The kiss turned passionate, a battle of dominance Feyre wasn’t sure she wanted to win, and Rhys’s hands started to wander.

His fingers brushed the top of her pant and she gasped. Rhys pulled away from her, only a few inches, just to smirk. She glared at him, bucking her hips ever so slightly. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her neck as his fingers wandered below-

A knock at the door had them jumping apart.

Rhys looked down, his pupils blown wide and lips pink from their kiss. “We could ignore it.”

“Agreed.”

He leaned down to kiss her again, but the knocking became a pounding at the door. Rhys all but growled at the intrusion. Feyre laughed and smacked his arm.

“Let me up, I’ll get them to leave.” She kissed his cheek. A promise.

Rhys grumbled but complied. Laying down on his back he started mumbling in a language she didn’t recognize. Feyre smiled as she stood and he returned it. It had been too long since she was this happy.

Feyre padded to the door, each step she fought the urge to ignore whoever was there in favor of pouncing on Rhysand.

Still, she opened the door with a smile and prepared to greet whoever was there. Instead, it was as if a bucket of icy water had been thrown on her.

Tamlin stood on the other side. His face showed relief at seeing her, then turned stormy at the tousled hair and kiss swollen lips.

“Finally, I thought maybe Lucien had gotten the wrong address.” He shook his head, as if having her tracked was an everyday thing. Then he stepped forward. Feyre stepped back. Tamlin frowned, his face the picture of confusion.

“You had Lucien track me down?” The redhead was a detective, she should honestly be surprised Tamlin hadn’t roped him into this sooner.

“It took me awhile to convince him too.” Tamlin crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “He seemed to think you had left on purpose. I knew that Morrigan-“

“Freed me?” Feyre felt her fury rising, her skin heating not in want but pure, glorious anger. “After you locked me in the house?”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Tamlin took another step, tried to place an arm on her shoulder. She batted him away. “You weren’t well, I was trying to protect you. I told you that Morrigan was toxic, she messed with your mind. Turned you against me.”

Feyre sputtered. She had so many things to say, words were flashing in her mind. As were the memories, the warning signs she’d missed that Morrigan hadn’t. How free she had felt when her friend had kicked down the door, cursing Tamlin in the same language Rhys had been speaking moments ago. But she didn’t have to say anything.

“Is there a problem, Feyre, darling?” Rhys stepped into the doorway, ever so subtly angling his body to block her even a little from the blond. “Oh, hello Tamlin.”

“Rhysand.” Tamlin spat the name, his face taking on that storm like fury that had haunted Feyre’s nightmares. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, I live here.”

“Feyre lives here.”

“With me.” Rhysand put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorway. ”That’s kind of the point of roommates isn’t it?”

“Feyre, you need to come home.” Tamlin again reached for her, and Feyre again backed away.

“Do not touch me.”

“When a woman says no, it means no, Tamlin.” Rhysand pretended to check his nails for imperfections, as if any part of him looked imperfect at any time. “But I doubt you would have learned that.”

Tamlin lunged for him then. So fast Feyre nearly missed it. Nearly. Rhysand prepared to defend himself, but Feyre beat him to it. She punched Tamlin, sending him sprawling on to the stoop.

She blatantly ignore the pain in her hand, though she was nearly certain she had broken something.

Tamlin stared up at her, face in shock. Rhysand, on the other hand, started to laugh.

“Cauldron, that was beautiful.”

Tamlin got up, prepared to come forward again, but Rhysand held up a hand.

“I do suggest you leave, old friend. I’d hate to call dear Lucien to have you removed, it’s be a bit embarrassing. For you, anyway.”

“This isn’t over.” Tamlin looked at her, his eyes burning. “I will save you from this Feyre.”

“That’s your problem, Tamlin. You think I need to be protected.” Feyre put her hand on the door. “What I need is to be free.”

She shut the door and felt a weight lift off of her. But then a realization dawned and she swung around to see Rhysand.

“You know Tamlin?” For whatever reason, she felt betrayed that he had kept that from her.

“We were friends, once.” Rhysand crossed his arms, suddenly uncomfortable. “Well, I met him through Lucien. He was my sister’s boyfriend at the time. I met them both at a family gathering of Tamlin’s. My sister didn’t feel comfortable around them, the family I mean, so she asked me to come under the guise of having me meet them.”

“And?”

Rhys rubbed his hands over his face and moved back into the living room. He fell onto the couch, his head thrown back against the cushion. Feyre wasn’t sure he’d continue, but he patted the seat next to him. She joined him.

“And Morrigan tagged along as well, we couldn’t really stop her. Lucien’s brother took an…interest in her. Morrigan did not return those feelings. A few weeks later, he didn’t appreciate that the feelings weren’t reciprocated. Both of our families are well off, the kind of people who marry for business mergers and the such. So, he went above her head, talked to her father. They set up a marriage.”

“How could they do that?” Feyre was horrified, knew it showed in her voice.

“Keir isn’t exactly known for his empathy. Especially towards his only daughter.” Rhys’s eyes flashed, so much anger and pain hidden beneath.

“What happened?” She shifted her position until she was facing him. She took his hand in hers, running her thumb over his knuckles. Rhys squeezed her hand in response.

“I helped her get out of it. Lucien helped too, actually. Ended up disowned because of it. But his family has some unsavory ties. They set up an accident. Such spiteful people, that family. My mother happened to be with her when it happened. I think that’s why Lucien got into law enforcement, to stop things like that. But he was broken, couldn’t stand to be near me either.”

“Why?”

“My sister and I share a lot of the same traits. People often asked if we were twins. Anyway, without me and Morrigan all Lucien had left was Tamlin. Eventually, Lucien started to change. Tamlin changed him. Lorded his help over Lucien’s head until he could manipulate him. I doubt he even wanted to help track you down, but Tamlin has a lot of power over him.”

“I’m sorry.” Feyre moved, settling into his lap. She wrapped her arms around him, and Rhys buried his face in her shoulder. He released a shaky breath, his hold tightening on her. Feyre stroked his hair and kissed his temple. “I am so, so sorry.”

“It happened a lifetime ago, or it feels like it did.” Rhys lifted his head and she saw tears running down his face. She leaned forward, slowly kissing them away. Feyre didn’t think Rhys breathed again until she was done.

“Let’s go to bed.” She stroked his cheek, smiling when he leaned into it.

“It’s early.” Rhys shook his head. “Don’t you want to finish your drawing?”

“The real thing is much better.” She smiled, and her heart soared when he returned it. “Besides, I’m tired.”

“To bed then.”

They spent the enter night curled up together.

[cleopatraas]

if chiara had lived and became High Lady. would she have been Under the Mountain to protect her brothers + Mor and Amren?

“There are no High Ladies”

“Someone has been looking for you for a very long time,” The female whispered in her ear. She tilted her head up, raising her eyebrows at the males. “Thank you for finding her for me. You can go” The Fae snarled, a devil worthy smile springing across her face. 

Feyre had never seen males run faster. “You- You...thank you” Feyre swallowed. The High Fae spun around, grabbing her wrist. She pressed Feyre’s wrist against her nose and her eyes widened just a fraction. 

“You could have gotten yourself killed. Go home,” She said flatly. Feyre wasn’t sure if she meant the Spring Court or her actual home, a worn down cabin. “Who are you?” Feyre asked as the girl slowly began to walk away. She spun around and spread her arms a bit. 

“Your Savior,” She winked before disappearing. Lucien was running towards her in the next moment, Feyre didn’t have time to compute what she said. 

xXxXx

“Ever Amarantha’s whore, Chiara,” Lucien said cooly, pressing Feyre tighter between the wall and his back. Feyre wheezed gently as Chiara walked into sight. Her dress traveled behind her, both her thighs bare. Her dress dipped down her chest and a pendant rested against her skin. 

Feyre saw the female who had saved her on Calamnai. She gasped and covered her mouth tightly. 

She gave a cool smile, walking closer. Tamlin froze at the table and Feyre gripped onto Lucien without even thinking about. “That is what they say these days. Is that a human I smell?” Chiara rose an eyebrow slowly and she tilted her head to the side. 

“She’s my betrothed,” Lucien lied smoothly. 

“Moved on so quickly, Lucien? Who have guessed,” Chiara laughed, her throat bobbing. Feyre winced. 

“Get out,” Lucien said tightly. “You have no right here”

“We both know that’s a lie.” There was a soft laugh on her tongue. And Feyre couldn’t help but observe how beautiful she was. Her bronze skin seemed to sparkle under her black dress, her hair pinned on top of her head, showcasing her neck. Bold. “I belong here more than you” 

Her hand snapped out and Lucien went sliding across the room, the glamour falling from Feyre. Lucien grunted as his back hit the wall. Feyre grabbed the curtain tightly and she pressed herself tightly against the hard surface behind her. “Leave her alone, Chiara” Tamlin finally spoke up. 

She was already inside her mind. Feyre felt as if a thousand pins were poking at her brain and she nearly screamed. No one should have that kind of power. The poking ceased and Chiara grinned, her red lips pulling back. “Such wicked fantasizes you have. Maybe I should tell Tam-Tam how much you dream of him at night. How much you whisper his name and how much you fantasize him whispering your name in between those sweet thighs of yours”

“That’s enough,” Tamlin said tightly. Feyre flushed and she hugged herself, feeling suddenly cold. 

“You’re running out of time, Tamlin,” Chiara swallowed and she licked her bottom lip gently. “Tick, tock, tick, tock,” She mocked the High Lord before disappearing 

xXxXx

“You’re a bi-”

“Ta ta ta, us women have to stick together,” Chiara smiled cruelly. Feyre groaned and she held her arm, panting harshly. Sweat trickled down her face and her neck, her breathing growing shallower and shallower. “You should really get that checked out”

Chiara laughed and she stood up in Feyre’s cell. She pushed her red dress behind her, walking around. The dress was really only a few strips of fabrics. Feyre avoided her gaze quickly. 

“All this for Tamlin?” Chiara whispered. Feyre gulped and she spat at the High Lady. No High Ladies. She wanted to slap Tamlin for the lie. Why would he lie? “Interesting. You really do love him”

“Sorry it’s not something you can comprehend” 

In a moment the High Lady was towering over her. Chiara yanked her arm and Feyre screamed in pain. Chiara dug her thumb into the large gap in her arm, flicking the bone a few times. Feyre vomited, wanting to pass out from pain.  

“Looks like you won’t be around long enough to love him,” Chiara winked. She let go of Feyre’s arm and rubbed her blood in between her fingers. “Beg me Feyre Darling. Beg me to save your life”

Feyre opened her mouth and Chiara tilted her head back and she chuckled. “Begging is not attractive. One week out of every month you come to the Night Court. Experience true nightmares,” Chiara grinned, her white teeth blazing. 

“Fine, whatever” Feyre choked out. Chiara kissed Feyre’s cheek and grabbed her arm gently. Her arm began to feel better but it felt like thousands of bee stings at the same time. Feyre groaned and she watched a mark grow. “Branding me? Doesn’t seem your style”“Oh this is not my mark,” Chiara clicked her tongue before Feyre passed out in her dank cell

xXxXx

“You two puppies just can’t keep your hands off each other,” Chiara shoved Tamlin away. The High Lord cringed and looked away from Feyre. Feyre whimpered and Chiara waved her hand, fixing the paint on her body. 

“Get out of here, Tamlin” She said tightly, not looking back at him. “And fix your belt” Chiara looked away as Tamlin stuffed his shirt in his pants, fastening his belt quickly before leaving. 

“Hold your breath,” Chiara warned. Feyre’s eyes widened and she tried to shove Chiara away but the female’s lips were already on her own. Feyre’s eyes widened and she gripped the back of Chiara’s silver dress. Feyre jumped when her fingers met Chiara’s bare back.

Chiara grinned and she tugged Feyre’s hair, kissing her deeper. Chiara grabbed her face gently and pulled Feyre closer, purposely messing with the paint on her body, getting it on her own dress. 

Amarantha walked in five seconds later and Chiara slowly pulled away from Feyre. Feyre gulped down air and she stared wide eyed at the High Lady of the Night Court. 

Chiara wiped Feyre’s lip slowly and Feyre choked down a gulp. Chiara laughed and she walked over to Amarantha, forcing herself to link arms with the queen. “Don’t look so down, Amarantha. I enjoy new company sometimes” 

Chiara forced a smile onto her face and she kissed Amarantha slowly. Feyre adverted her eyes and she pressed her hands against her stomach, trying to hold back her vomiting. 

Chiara left with Amarantha, but she turned around. She winked at Feyre and her cheeks flushed a bright red. The eye on her palm began to burn and Feyre touched her lips, smiling. 

xXxXx

“She broke the riddle,” Chiara walked through the crowd. The Fae jumped away from her as if she were the Plague and she bit her tongue. “Let us go, Amarantha” 

Amarantha gave a cruel smile and she turned to Feyre. “No!” Chiara screamed. She jumped forward but Feyre was already screaming and Chiara heard the first break of her spine. Gods, no. Her eyes widened and she rushed forward, but Amarantha’s magic grabbed her tightly. 

“It’s not as if you love her, Chiara. I thought you’d be happy to get her out of the way” Chiara began to grind her teeth and she snarled at the Queen. Tamlin struggled against her magic as well and their eyes connected. 

Tamlin looked away first. 

“Let her go. Let them all go. You can keep me” 

“Not enough,” Amarantha grinned coldly, but she let Chiara go. Chiara glared and she looked at Feyre. She watched as the human spasmed and she tried to reign in her face, keeping a neutral expression. But her hands were still coated in blood. The blood of innocents. 

Chiara could only imagine Cassian. The way he would always find her and know it was okay to throw up in her presence. The way Azriel would always curl in on himself when he remembered what her father had done to him. The way Rhys tried to be stronger than she was, because he didn’t want his little sister to suffer. 

She would suffer tenfold to keep them safe in Velaris. 

“Feyre,” Chiara whispered. Chiara crawled slowly and she lied down, grabbing Feyre’s hand. She looked up and saw Amarantha grinning cooly. She would be trapped down here forever. Chiara looked back at Feyre and she closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Rhys”

There was a flicker. A flicker down a bond she hadn’t felt in fifty years. 

That was what caused her to finally fight back. 

Chiara spun around and she threw the entire might of her magic at Amarantha. The Queen went soaring through the air. Chiara grunted, waves and waves of darkness pouring out of her very essence. Her back arched forward and she saw Tamlin’s beast fly through the air. 

She was reminded of implied, sweeter, happier times. 

A heart of stone, indeed. 

Chiara blocked the thought out of her mind and she turned away as Tamlin finished Amarantha off. Chiara swallowed and she looked back up, watching Tamlin walk towards her. “Tamlin-” 

The High Lord of the Spring Court side-stepped her and Chiara shuddered. Tamlin fell to his knees next to Feyre and he scooped her up slowly, brushing her hair. Chiara held her breath for a moment. 

She turned around and saw Lucien sliding down his fox mask. She had forgotten what his face looked like. The scar stood against his replacement eye and Chiara forced herself to look away. Tears slipped down his cheeks. Chiara squared her shoulders and she walked towards Feyre. 

She knelt down beside Tamlin, ignoring the green eyes that used to see through her, that could see her, really see her. But now she was High Lady, Amarantha’s Whore, most feared Fae in all of Prythian, and he was in love with her brother’s mate. 

Chiara pressed her hand against Feyre’s chest and she bit her lip gently. “Remember our deal,” Chiara whispered barely audibly. She slowly stood up and fixed her golden dress. She glared long and hard at the High Lords until their magic was flowing through Feyre. 

Feyre’s eyes fluttered open and Chiara gave her a painful smile. “Thank you, Feyre Cursebreaker”

Chiara was slipping through the crowd before Feyre or god forbid Tamlin could say something. She ran through Under the Mountain until she reached her chambers. The High Lady fell to her knees and started to vomit, gripping the floor. Her wings shot out from her back and she screamed, arching. 

Her roars shook her room, but she continued to roar louder and louder until her voice cracked. 

Tears streamed down her face and she curled in on herself, her wings comforting her. She was free. She was finally free. She could fly, fly far away. But even if she was free from this mountain, she had to go back to the Court of Nightmares. 

She had to go back knowing she had lost everything. 

But had saved everything for everyone else. 

xXxXx

Hope you enjoyed that! Leave your thoughts please

[hellas-himself]

Where There Are Shadows Pt.9

Writing this was fun, but also kind of... hard? 

Coming out (I am queer AF to begin with) has never been easy for me, even with my loved ones. There’s always that thought that they’ll change. I’m lucky to have amazing people in my life. So a lot of that experience went into this. 

.

.

.

-Feyre-

We were both trying to catch our breath, and I laughed, rolling on my side. Rhys put an arm around me, pulling me close to him. “The floor is all wet,” I said. He’d carried me from the tub and to the bed. How he had not slipped and fallen was beyond me.

“I don’t care,” he said softly. He was exhausted. With good reason.

“Hm… I guess I really don’t either.” It was worth it. I closed my eyes, sleep wasn’t far off.

“Feyre… Can I ask you something?”

I nodded, eyes still closed.

“Have you ever… looked at another female and found her to your liking?”

“I’m an artist Rhys, I find beauty in everyone.”

I thought he was going to drift off to sleep, but he rephrased his question.

“Have you ever desired a female?”

I opened my eyes and adjusted myself so that I was looking at him. He looked so sad, confused. And through our bond, I felt an overwhelming fear of rejection. I reached out to brush his hair away from his face.

“Why do you ask?”

“Have you?”

“I don’t know. I guess being with you, I’ve never thought about it.”

He looked away from me. And that was when it hit me, all his teasing, the reason he felt no threat to Lucien’s love for me-

“Rhys, are you attracted to males?”

From the look on his face, the mortification in our bond- I knew the answer. I sat up, gently pulling on his arm so he would sit with me. But he wouldn’t look at me.

“I am,” he said, painfully. As if that would make me question his love for me.  

“Rhysand, do you have any idea how honored I am that you would trust me with this?”

He finally looked at me. “I suppose… The fact that your beloved fox has these feelings for you… I just thought that-”

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck. He was nervous, in a way I’d never known him to feel. So I took his hand in mine. How could I love him, want him any less?

“I’ve never said yes,” I said quietly, “Because Helion was an absolute no.” That brought out a laugh from him. The thought of sleeping with Lucien’s father… I shook the thought from my mind. “Cassian and Azriel… I would find it very hard to believe you three have never… Well, maybe not after Mor… but before that.”

Rhys chuckled and I saw him blush.

“But, they’ve got enough to deal with, with both my sisters. I wouldn’t want to make it worse.”

“So you would have said yes?” Some of the playfulness returned to his voice, his demeanor. And I smacked his arm. We both laughed.

“Maybe,” I said, my face so hot I imagined I was crimson. I couldn’t even fathom being tangled between the three of them, how it would feel. I would probably die from it. And by the look on Rhys’ face, he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“But that’s not the point.”

Rhys pulled me close to him. “No?”

I shook my head. “Is this what you want Rhys?”

He stilled. I caressed his face, Rhys closing his eyes and sighing.

“Let’s try it,” I said. He looked at me in disbelief. “If this is what you want, I want to- need to- give you the chance to have it.”

His voice was shaken. “But the fox is in love with you. And we don’t know his… preferences.”

“But if he got to know you, the real you… At worst, we walk away from this as friends who probably know far too much about each other.” He chuckled, rolling his eyes at me. “At best, you both can have what you want. And nothing would make me happier.”

Rhys considered me for a moment. “Do you desire him?”

“I…” My mind went straight to that night on the Summer Solstice, when Tamlin had found us together in his room. How it had felt for him to hold me, comfort me. “I don’t know.”

“Are you certain you feel alright with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I love you, Rhysand. For all that you are.”

He pulled me in his arms and kissed me so fervently that I barely had time to notice the tears that lined his eyes. Because I accepted him, and he had feared I wouldn’t have. And I would give him more than words, I would show him that I did.

Hours later, I stood on the balcony at the House, looking over Velaris. When Rhys had first brought me here, I’d met my family, even if hadn’t known it then. Cas had offered to invite everyone to his home for dinner, to let Rhys and I have the townhouse to ourselves, but I felt this place was perfect for what we meant to do. What we were going to ask.

I was unnecessarily adjusting the plates when I heard them arrive. The sound of Rhys landing, Lucien’s irritated voice followed by my mate’s laughter. I looked at them from where I was standing by the head of the table. Lucien was running his fingers through his fiery hair.

And he was wearing black.

Rhys placed a hand on Lucien’s shoulder, guiding him inside. I had never really seen Lucien dressed in black finery. Only in green, in blue and the occasional grey. It suited him.

Rhys approached me, greeting me with a soft kiss, but still holding a promise for something more. I couldn’t help but blush, couldn’t help but smile. Even when Lucien looked at me, as if he had never really seen me before.

“You look beautiful Feyre,” he said softly. My hair was pinned into a loose knot, allowing for some curls to fall naturally, a hairstyle I wore sometimes to paint. My dress, which Rhys has suggested I wear, was lilac. Though it lacked the jewels and beading that most of my gowns had, it was far from simple. The top, separated from the high waisted skirt, had no sleeves, my tattoos on full display. And the fabric was sheer over the low plunge of my neckline. Then there was the back of the top; that was completely bare.  

“Thank you,” I said, forcing myself to move from where I stood. I gave him a hug, and when his arms came around me, I felt the surprise at touching bare skin and he quickly broke our embrace. Rhys was wise enough not to laugh.

I guided Lucien to his chair, and then walked over to where Rhys was waiting for me. I felt Lucien’s eyes on me as I walked towards my mate who pulled out the chair. Who leaned over to place both hands on my shoulders and press a kiss to my cheek. And then he sat across from Lucien.

We poured each other wine, passed around the various trays of food. I hated the quiet, the formality of this. I was wishing that we were in the townhouse, sitting on the floor by the fire. I could easily picture it, the three of us lounging about, maybe with books. Or sweets. Or both. I saw Rhys being an arrogant prick and Lucien meeting that arrogance with sarcasm and wit, while I ignored them both, content. Happy. But if I wanted that, whatever that meant, it wouldn’t come from silence.

I finished what was left of my wine.

“So, Lucien,” I said, feeling utterly nervous and wishing I hadn’t spoken at all. “I wanted to thank you for joining us.”

He set down his fork and knife. “Thank you for inviting me. Both of you.”

“The House is not usually where we like to spend our time,” Rhys said, “But there are matters to discuss that we felt were better spoken in private.”

I gave him a grateful smile before I looked at Lucien.

“I know that I’ve asked a lot from you,” I said to him. “But I don’t want you to think for one moment that your feelings aren’t being considered.”

He looked at me, and that mechanical eye seemed to see right through me.  

“The fact of the matter is, Lucien, that you love my mate,” Rhys said. “And that has opened up… an opportunity.”

“What kind of opportunity?”

Rhys looked at me and through our bond, I could feel his hesitation. I reached out and placed my hand over his. It’s alright, I said to him, there is nothing to be ashamed of.

He looked at Lucien, who seemed just as curious, just as anxious to hear whatever it was Rhys was trying to say.

“For some time now, I have entertained the idea of bringing someone else to…,” he paused to look at me and what I saw in his eyes set my blood on fire. “To join us.”

“Join you how, exactly?”

“In bed.”

“A male?” Lucien asked, brow raised.

“Male, female- I’ve no qualms with either, so as long as Feyre is also in agreement.”

Lucien poured more wine into his cup and drank it all as fast as he could.

“So, what you are saying is…,” he paused and ran his fingers through his hair. “What are you asking me?” His question was directed at both of us. I wasn’t sure Rhys was going to speak again. But I knew what he wanted, I could feel it as real as my own desires.

“I’ve asked you to stay with me, Lucien. Here. In Velaris. With us,” I said, motioning between Rhys and myself. “To get to know one another. And maybe… maybe Rhys and I could have what we’ve wanted. And so could you.” There was pride, and sheer gratitude down the bond.

“You’re mated,” Lucien said, his voice like gravel.  

“You would have my blessing to court Feyre, if that is what she wants.” Rhys’ words made my heart flutter. “And if you share the same preference as I do, I suppose I would have incredible luck.”

He considered Rhys for a moment. “You hardly tolerate me.”

Rhys shrugged. “You are pretty enough.”

I glared at him until Lucien laughed. Wholehearted, unabashed laughter. I couldn’t remember ever hearing him laugh that way, so freely. It made me smile.

“What do you say, fox?” Rhys asked once Lucien had sobered down.

“Am I to be your mistress, Rhysand?”

I tried really hard not to laugh.  

Rhys smirked. “A mistress implies infidelity.”

Lucien’s mouth twitched. He drank a little more wine.

“Is this what you really want, Feyre?” Lucien asked, and I heard it in his voice. He was afraid I was going to reject him, too. How could they think I would push them away?

“I don’t know, Lucien,” I said honestly. I felt my heart ache at the thought of him leaving. “I only know that when you’re gone, it feels like something is missing. And knowing how you feel about me… knowing how Rhys feels… If there is any chance that this could work, I’m willing to try.”

Lucien leaned back against his seat, the expression on his face unreadable. Rhys was staring at nothing, nowhere. The only sound I heard were their racing hearts, and the wind outside.

Lucien’s voice broke the silence. “What do I tell Elain?”

“Elain,” I said, feeling nervous speaking of my sister. “Elain has been forgiven so… easily, and I’m guilty of that. But she if she wants nothing to do with you, why does it matter?”

Rhys looked at me with surprise, but I felt pride through our bond. I knew that Rhys treated Elain far different than he did Nesta, and I knew that I had to stop making excuses for my sister, both of them. If I was bothered that Elain rejected Lucien… I had to acknowledge how terribly Nesta treated Cas. At least Elain was quiet. Nesta was… I sighed. I would deal with that another time.

“Then I accept,” Lucien said softly. “Both of you.”

“Are you certain?” Rhys asked, as if all of this were a dream.

“Only if I have a say on how those tattoos of yours work. If I see one gods damned flower, I’m pushing you over that balcony.”

Rhys burst into laughter.

I looked at my arms, at the tattoos that symbolized my bond with Rhys, my agreement with Bryaxis, and the promise I had made with Rhysand that no one else was privy to.

“I accept,” I said quietly, although both males heard me. I was still looking at my tattoos, and the thought of sharing one with Lucien and Rhys… It made me feel warm, it felt right.

“I accept as well,” Rhys said and that was when I looked away from my tattoos, and up at him. He smiled, holding out his hand to me. As I took his hand, I turned to Lucien and reached out to him.

And then we all felt it, the physical proof of whatever this bond between us was, what it would become. I let go of their hands once the sting of it passed, and slightly lifted up my shirt enough to see the sun and moon together in intricate black lines, reminiscent of the lines on my arms- but no flowers. They sat right below my left breast, on the ribs. By the way Lucien and Rhys pressed a hand to their chests, I knew theirs sat in the same place. I let go of my shirt and smiled.

“I suppose you won’t be pushing me off the balcony,” Rhys said rather smug.

“Maybe not tonight,” Lucien replied which only made Rhys laugh.

“You two are insufferable,” I said and though they both laughed at me, I felt inexplicably happy.

[illyrianbeauty]

A Not So Chance Encounter: Chapter 6

Rhys is persuaded to attend a fundraiser by his cousin Mor. He didn’t expect to meet the girl of his dreams.

Fic Masterlist

Writing Masterlist

Chapter 6: Coffee and Musketeers

Rhys spun on his heels and stalked out of the club.  He didn’t hear Mor calling after him. He barely felt the chill of the early November air.  The only thing he was aware of was the pounding in his head and the white hot anger burning through him.  

“Rhys! Please. Stop. Please stop!” Mor begged from somewhere behind him.

He kept walking, practically running at this point.  He didn’t know where he was going, nor did he care. The only thing that mattered was her.  Feyre. With him.  His greatest enemy.  It all made perfect sense now.  Why Feyre thought that Mor hated her boyfriend for no reason.  Why Mor had refused to meet him.  The fear in her eyes before she had run out of the club.  The thought hit him like a physical blow.  She was scared.  He was supposed to be her boyfriend, and she was terrified of him.  Fucking Tamlin.  

He didn’t know how long he had been walking nor how far he had traveled.  His burning anger slowly began to turn into an icy fear.  Tamlin wouldn’t actually harm Feyre, would he? No. Tamlin was a monster, but not like that. Rhys wouldn’t let him hurt her. Ever.  A string of vicious curse words that would have made Amren proud tumbled out of his mouth as he halted his walking.  Grabbing fistfulls of his hair, he stood in the middle of the sidewalk trying to get control of his tumultuous emotions.  As his jagged breathing slowly returned to normal and his senses returned to him, he realized two things.  The first was that Mor had indeed followed him and had nearly caught up.  The second was that he had absolutely no idea where he was.  He shoved his hands into his pockets and dropped his gaze, his chin practically touching his chest as his cousin drew near.  Mor threw her arms around him and, after a heartbeat, he reluctantly returned her hug.  

She said onto his neck, “I’m sorry.”

He stepped out of her embrace, shaking his head, “I just don’t understand.  What did you think was going to happen? She would see me and immediately dump Tamlin?” he spat out the name like the most vile of insults.

She had the audacity to snort and say, “No. Nothing like that.” She smiled kindly at him before saying, “I knew you would fall for her right away. And I knew she would like you too.” She threw up a hand to stop him from interrupting, which he was most certainly about to do.  “She does like you, whether she’s ready to face it or not.”  She rolled her eyes. “Honestly. I don’t know who is more blind… you or her.  I saw the way she was looking at you- the exact same way you were looking at her.”  

Mor had some nerve to spew out that nonsense about Feyre reciprocating his feelings.  She had made her lack of any interest in him, besides friendship, quite clear tonight.  Not allowing him any time to spit this out, Mor continued, “I introduced the two of you now because, well,  this is Tamlin we’re talking about. It’s only a matter of time before he does something stupid and she breaks it off with him.”

Rhys bitterly spat out, “I love you, but that has got to be the stupidest plan I have ever heard.”

Mor flung out her hands and set them on her hips, huffing, “Ok, so my plan may not have been completely perfect.  But you don’t need to be a dick about it!”  Rhys crossed his arms over his chest and gave her an incredulous look.  She loosed a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly.  She pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “You’re right. I should have told you. It was a shit plan.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” he ground out, though with a tad less anger.  

Mor rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms, saying, “Now that you’ve calmed down, can we please go somewhere a little warmer to talk? I’m freezing my ass off!”

“Yeah. Let’s go get some coffee.  But…” he said looking around with a slightly embarrassed expression, “Where are we and how do we get back to the car?”

***

Rhys unlocked the door to his apartment and staggered inside.  He and Mor had spent nearly an hour sitting in a dinner drinking coffee that tasted like mud and discussing everything that had transpired that evening.  He had eventually forgiven his cousin for withholding the truth from him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still pissed as hell about it.  Not to mention he was still worried about his… about Feyre.  Mor seemed to think that she would be fine, but he had to know for sure.  He filled a glass with water from the sink and flopped down on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table.  Would it be safe to text her if she was with him?  He battled with himself for a moment longer before finally deciding to send a text to check in on her.  

Hello Darling! Just wanted to make sure you made it home safely.  Let me know! :)

He didn’t have to wait long before his phone pinged in response.  He opened up the message to discover a new group text named The Three Musketeers. His stomach did a little flip when he saw Feyre’s number.  Smiling widely, he opened the message and discovered that the group text consisted of him, Feyre, and Mor. Oh, this could be interesting, he mused.  

Feyre Darling: You guys are a bunch of mother hens!  I got messages from both of you within minutes of each other asking if I made it home ok.

She was alright! Rhys let out a relieved breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.  

The Queen: You know you love our overprotective tendencies! ;)

He couldn’t help but snort at his cousin.  And not only at her smartass mouth.  The Queen?  Obviously Mor had gotten into his phone at some point tonight and made a few changes.   It did suit her, if he was being honest with himself.

Really Mor? You stole my phone and changed your name to The Queen? A little conceited, don’t you think?   

The Queen: I didn’t steal it. It’s not my fault you left it on the table when you went to the restroom.  I resent your accusations!

The Queen: Besides, I think it’s rather appropriate, don’t you agree Fey?

Feyre Darling: Oh yes! You do like to order people around! ALL THE TIME! Hehe

Feyre Darling: BTW Rhysee Poo- I saved you in my contacts as Prince Prick, since we’re going with the whole royalty thing.

The Queen: HAHAHA!!  I knew there was a reason we’re besties! I’m changing Rhys’s name in my contacts to Prince Prick right now!  

Prince Prick: I knew being outnumbered by females was a bad idea!

The Queen: Oh, poor baby!

Feyre Darling: It’s late. I’m gonna go to bed. Night assholes!

The Queen: Love you too, bitch! ;)

Prince Prick: I need new friends

The Queen: Fuck off, cousin.

Prince Prick: You know you love me, Mor!

The Queen: Not as much as you love me!

Rhys felt a smile tugging at his lips.  He felt slightly better since receiving the text messages.  He could almost hear Feyre’s sassy voice as he reread the thread. At least she was safe. For now. He sighed and closed the group text. He clicked her name and glanced at the first message he had sent her tonight. He ran a hand through his hair, hesitating.  Was she really ok? Would she tell them if something was wrong? Making up his mind at last, he sent another message just to her.

Are you sure you’re ok? You know you can talk to me anytime you need to.    

After a full minute of staring at his phone waiting her response, he decided to call it a night.  He was exhausted after everything that had happened, both emotionally and physically.  He was just climbing into bed when her response finally came.

Feyre Darling: Yes, I’m fine. I am capable of taking care of myself, you know.

Her irritation was palpable, even through the text.  He chuckled as he sent his response.  

I know you can, darling. I was just worried about you.

Feyre Darling: I’m sorry if I scared you and Mor with how I left tonight. I’m fine, really.

Feyre Darling: Thanks for checking in on me, though. You and Mor are good friends.  Good night, Prick.

Good night, darling!

Rhys tossed his phone on the nightstand beside him and rested his hands behind his head.  No matter how hard he tried not to, his thoughts kept circling back to Feyre.  She was so completely perfect, it was unreal.  She was smart, funny, not to mention sexy as hell.  And she didn’t mind calling him out on his shit.  Cauldron, could Mor be right about Feyre liking him too? Do not go there, he chided himself.  He was firmly, permanently sitting in the friend-zone. But…. maybe…. No. He couldn’t get his hopes up.  A frustrated groan escaped him and he buried his head in the pillow.  Muttering a curse under his breath, he rolled over and tried to push her out of his head… again.

[the-wheel-comes-full-circle]

The Snowball part 18

I'm going to be MIA for a few days guys, I'm going to Sydney for a few days and won't be taking my laptop so that's why I've done a few quick updates. xx

Link to previous chapters X

Feyre and the rest of the gang were sitting in the living room. Feyre occupied the couch, in between Rhys and Mor, sitting opposite Nesta. Feyre couldn't believe her sister had found her. Nesta looked as out of place in Rhys's house as a camel in a blizzard.

Nesta sat in an armchair, glaring at Cassian when he stared at her for too long, with a devilish gleam in his eyes and mouth that seemed to quirk in a challenge.

This was not going to be fun.

Mor had brought Feyre a cup of tea which she desperately needed after the shock of seeing her sister after months of not hearing anything from her.

"So, Nesta is it? It's nice to meet you." Rhys said, holding out a hand to an aggravated looking Nesta.

Feyre looked at him in surprise and was grateful he was even attempting to talk to her beast of a sister.

Nesta pointedly ignored Rhys's hand and looked to Feyre instead.

"Where the hell have you been?" She asked angrily.

Feyre was taken aback to say the least. "Me? You're the one who never contacted me." She said trying to defend herself.

"I called you for weeks! You never picked up." Nesta said icily.

Feyre looked at her blankly until she remembered Tamlin had given her a new phone when they'd moved in together. "I got a new phone... Tamlin said he was going to give you my new number."

"I don't care if you got a new phone, you could've called us. Elain and I were worried." Nesta had gone strangely quiet.

Feyre could feel the eyes of everyone flitting back and forth between her and her sister, trying to figure out what kind of relationship they had, and why Nesta had appeared now.

"I just assumed you didn't want to talk to me." Feyre said meekly. It was something she had believed all these months. She had been made to just feel like she was in the way back home. She was unneeded. She refused to believe she was unwanted though.

"You think we honestly wouldn't care when you disappear off the face of the earth with some guy who's paying us money every couple of weeks? It was like we sold you or something, it was really weird Feyre."

Feyre felt embarrassed now. Why hadn't she just tried to call them? She had just assumed that Tamlin had taken care of her family and she wouldn't need to worry about them now. She was out of the way.

When Feyre didn't say anything Nesta continued, "Or were you too good for us now that you had a fancy boyfriend? Didn't need us anymore I guess."

"I think there has been a misunderstanding here. But don't you dare think that Feyre never thought about her family, or that she was living in some fairytale these past few months." Rhys snarled at Nesta.

"Well if she had just talked to us we would actually know what to think." Nesta snarled back.

"Please, just stop." Feyre interrupted quickly. "I'm sorry I never called Nesta. I thought you'd be better off without me anyway." Feyre said lamely.

A strange look crossed Nesta's face, and Feyre almost thought it looked like guilt, before it vanished and was replaced with her usual frown.

"How did you find us Nesta?" Mor asked curiously.

"I googled Tamlin. He came up straight away I mean there's not many guys around here called that."

"You went to his house?" Amren asked alarmed.

Nesta nodded and the group looked at each other in shock.

"What?" Nesta asked annoyed. "Was I not supposed to go to her boyfriend's house?"

"Nesta what happened? Did you see Tamlin? What did he say-" Feyre asked quickly before Rhys's hand over hers reminded her to slow down.

Nesta's calculating eyes took special interest in Rhys's hand on Feyre's, but continued with her story.

"He wasn't home. His friend was though. Odd guy. Bright red hair."

"Lucien." The group said in unison.

"Okay that was freaky, don't ever do that again." Nesta said. "I told him I was Feyre's sister and I wasn't leaving until I saw her. He got really weird and told me I had to leave before Tamlin came home. Gave me this address and told me you were here."

Feyre felt a surge of gratitude for Lucien. But Nesta was avoiding talking about something, Feyre could tell by the way she fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

"Why did you decide to come now?" Feyre asked.

"What, did you want me to wait 10 years before I finally came to see what became of my sister?"

Feyre just looked at her pointedly until Nesta finally sighed. "Okay the money stopped coming, but I promise it's not just about that!" She said quickly when all eyes turned feral with rage. "I saw you on the news Feyre. You lot too. Involved in a big fight, the news said it was a turf war or something. I thought you were in trouble with gangs or something."

When the male's hands failed to unclench from the fist's they had formed, Nesta eyed them warily and added, "I'm still not convinced you're not in some kind of gang."

Feyre laughed at the idea of Rhys being a gang leader. "It's not a gang. These are my friends."

"Just friends?" Nesta asked, glancing at Rhys.

Feyre blushed but made no move to correct her, instead she explained first about Hybern's plan to completely ruin the area and make the Illyrians either homeless, or very, very sick.

After hesitating slightly, Feyre was able to get out her past few months with Tamlin. When she struggled to open up about some parts, a few reassuring thumb strokes on the back of her hand from Rhys helped calm her again. When she tried to explain what had happened at the café and she couldn't find the words, Rhys's knee nudged hers gently to encourage her.

Nesta listened to it all with no comment. But she did look at the others with a little less animosity. Except Cassian. She still looked at Cassian like she would like to knock all his teeth out, and Cassian looked at her like he knew and would love nothing less than to see her try.

Feyre paused expectantly at the end for Nesta to say something.

"What a bastard." Nesta said simply, as if she was commenting on the weather.

"An apology would have been better." Cassian said.

"Excuse me?" Nesta bristled.

"An apology. To Feyre. She needs one." Cassian enunciated slowly as if talking to a toddler.

"Cassian, it's alrigh-" Feyre began uneasily before Nesta's indignant screech cut her off sharply.

"Apologise for what you overgrown ape?" She snarled.

"You came in here acting like you were better than her. Like she was an ant. Then you accuse her of thinking she's better than you, when you had no idea what she was going through." Cassian said through gritted teeth.

"Well you have no idea what I went through just to get to her. So back off and mind your own business you ass!"

Feyre buried her head in her hands while Rhys, Azriel, and Mor looked between the two helplessly as they continued to bicker for several minutes. Amren was covering a small smile with her hand as she watched with interest.

An hour later, Cassian had gone to his work out room to sulk and Nesta claimed his larger armchair for herself, while the others helped Feyre reply to emails sent to her by reporters for websites and newspapers.

Some of the questions sent to her were so intrusive and offensive it started getting to Feyre after a while.

Mor took one look at her and declared work time over. "Let's go have some fun!" She said to the group.

Rhys rubbed his eyes wearily. It was then that Feyre realised he hadn't slept last night. "Mor we have enough things to worry about right now." Rhys said.

"Exactly! We should go out." She said excitedly.

"I wouldn't mind a break." Azriel said, agreeing non-surprisingly with Mor.

Amren groaned. "Ugh not another night out. Someone either ends up missing, in hospital, with a new tattoo, or all three!"

"Rhys can't drink with his concussion anyway so he can be the Mom for tonight and watch us." Mor explained.

"This sounds like it'll be more trouble than it's worth." Rhys sighed but he already had a wicked gleam in his eye.

"What if we run into... someone we know." Feyre asked quietly.

Mor waved off her concern. "Tamlin wouldn't dare set foot over here, he has his own trashy clubs to go to. I don't think he's ever even been to Rita's."

"I'm down." Cassian said, emerging from the hallway suddenly.

"Have you been eavesdropping?" Amren asked amused.

"No. Just went to the kitchen to get a drink." Cassian said too quickly.

"What do you think Feyre? Nesta?" Rhys turned to them.

"Yes," Feyre said at the exact same time that Nesta said, "No".

Feyre turned wide, imploring eyes to her. "Nesta you should come, the neighbourhood is really nice and it would give you a chance to get to know every-"

"No." Nesta interrupted. "I'm tired, and I've come a long way."

"Wimp." Cassian muttered challengingly.

"What did you just call me?" Nesta said slowly.

Feyre rolled her eyes at Rhys who had to hide his resulting smile.

"Bet you just can't hold your alcohol." Cassian teased.

"Better than you I'd bet. You're so full of yourself there's no room for the alcohol."

"It's on then. Everyone meet down here in 20 minutes." Cassian said leaving an open mouthed Nesta glaring a hole into his retreating frame.

"What just happened?" Nesta asked them confused.

"You just accepted a bet to beat Cassian at drinking." Rhys smiled at her, amused. He reached out to squeeze Nesta's shoulder reassuringly. "Good luck."

[birdiethebibliophile]

For the fic prompt thing - okay, this may sound veeery specific but...Feyre and Rhys helping Lucien to heal and defending him from Tamlin's manipulative influence? I don't know the contest or anything but HOW cute

Bless your soul for this prompt. I always love writing about my ginger child. (This… got a bit out of hand.)

Found on AO3 here!

————-

“Oh, like you’ve never –”

Feyre, two floors above and distracted by the noteshe’s writing to Rhys, still flinches at the snarl that cuts Lucien off. Tamlintakes issue with others mouthing off to him as much as any High Fae, and Lucienhas been very mouthy indeed of late.

It’s been three months. Three months of planningand plotting. Three months of pretending to shudder at the very mention of hermate’s name. Three months of simpering and placing her lips on Tamlin’s cheekwhen needed and resisting the urge to disembowel him.

A lot has changed in three months. Cassian’salmost completely recovered, though he isn’t flying yet, and it’s doubtfulwhether he ever will; Elain’s started a garden of moonlace and jasmine on theroof of Rhys’s home in Velaris; Azriel and Mor are evidently, in Rhys’s words,“a thing.”

And Lucien…

Feyre isn’t sure whether it was her return thattriggered the change, or the discovery of his mate, or maybe even thebanishment of Ianthe, but something like a flame – bright and vibrant as hishair – has been rekindled in Lucien. She hadn’t realized it was gone until itwas back. His eye no longer dulls, sweeps over her in hopeless despair. Shecatches him absentmindedly humming snatches of a folk tune, or playing a fewtentative keys on the pianoforte, or braiding flowers into his hair. (Shewonders how much he notices the mating bond; the flowers in question lookremarkably similar to the ones Rhys describes Elain coaxing out of his roof.)

Of course, along with these changes comes a revivalin Lucien’s quick tongue and sharp wit. She remembers it from her early days inthe Spring Court, when it was directed at her.

Lucien, she thinks, has a knack for using it onexactly the people who will react the worst.

Just as her note disappears, Lucien storms intothe room, slams the door behind him, and flings himself onto the couch. “Thatbastard is getting on my last nerve,” he growls.

Feyre shoots him a warning look. “Lucien –”

He waves a weary hand. “He’s out. Don’t knowwhere. Meeting with Ianthe, for all I know. But not before…” The hand drops,and he rubs slightly at the blossoming bruise over his cheekbone.

Feyre hesitates, troubled. Lucien’s beeninvaluable in the past two months. He snapped a month after the Hybern fiasco,pushed back against Tamlin like he hadn’t since Under the Mountain. Afterwards,Feyre (still a bit reluctantly) tended his wounds as he muttered bitter wordsabout what he wished he could do to change – all this, he said, change allthis, everything he’s done.

She’d promised Rhys that she didn’t trust anyoneat the Spring Court, but the genuine pain in Lucien’s face, the whirring of hisgolden eye as he made sure Tamlin hadn’t damaged it, cracked her composure. Shetold him. Not everything – not their plans, not details about the Inner Circle– but enough that she saw shock, then suspicion, then finally hope light hisface. She explained about Rhys, what he was really like, why she was in lovewith him. Before Hybern, Lucien would’ve refused to believe it. Afterwards, he couldn’tignore it.

“Mouthing off to him isn’t going to solveanything,” Feyre says, but her heart isn’t in it. She’s so relieved by thereturn of Lucien’s silver tongue that she would write a play just to hear himsnark his way through the lines.

“I know, I know.” He lets out a frustrated sigh.“How do you do it? Just – keep quiet when he gets like this?” Feyre gives him alook. “All right, any time he opens his mouth?”

As she’s about to answer, Rhys’s response appearsin midair and drops into her hand. “Like this,” she says, waving the page atLucien. “Someone to talk to.” She feels a pang of unexpected sympathy. Sheknows Lucien wishes with all his heart that he could talk to Elain like shetalks to Rhys, but that’s just not possible.

Lucien rubs his eyes. He looks tired. Not tiredthe way he did before – not hopeless – just bone-weary. “Maybe I should startwriting to him, if he’s that pleasant of a correspondent.”

Feyre laughs again, but it isn’t as genuine asbefore. Since they allied, Lucien’s been taking the brunt of Tamlin’soutbursts. He doesn’t have daemati powers, and Feyre can’t always be with himto soothe Tamlin’s fury, tweak his thoughts. And that isn’t even taking intoaccount the pain of being without his mate and the aftereffects of the monthsbetween Under the Mountain and Hybern. Lucien’s spirit is unquenched, butconstant stress erodes even the hardest of hearts. And, Feyre thinks, thatwould not quite be the word to describe Lucien’s heart. It’s softer – likegold, perhaps:  resilient and invaluable,but able to be marked even by the slightest pressure.

“Lucien?”

“Hmm?” He glances at her, the note in her hand,and away again.

“If…” Feyre hesitates. “If there was a chance toleave the Spring Court – I’m not saying there will be, but if – would you takeit?”

Lucien’s silent for a moment. His fingers absentlystroke the textured wood of his chair. “Where would I go?” he finally says.“Not to the Autumn Court.”

“What if you could go to the Night Court?” Feyreasks carefully.

Lucien’s eyes snap to her, fingers stilling. Inthe silence, she can hear his golden eye whirring, adjusting and readjusting,seemingly unable to focus on her. “What?”

Feyre almost winces at the rawness in his voice.“You heard me.”

“I would take the chance,” Lucien finally says. “IfI could.”

“I’ll remember that,” Feyre says, her voice quiet.

*************

She’s very nearly too late.

Afterwards, she thinks she should’ve seen itcoming – should’ve seen how fast Tamlin’s sense was deteriorating, should’veseen how vulnerable that left Lucien, the one within the blast range who didn’thave the powers of all seven High Lords.

Feyre hears Lucien’s scream from three floorsaway, and her blood runs cold. She winnows before she thinks about it, steppingthrough the fabric of space towards her friend. She can still hear the echo ofhis cry when the world resolves around her.

“Tam, please – please–”

“You’ve been spying for them!” Tamlin’s voice isall animal snarl, and his claws have burst through his knuckles. “Don’t try todeny it. After everything they did to Feyre – after they took your mate away –”

“You don’t understand, Tam.” Neither of them haveseen Feyre yet, but she can see them. Tamlin has Lucien cornered, and – shefeels a jolt of horror as she realizes that one of Tamlin’s knives, hisIllyrian knives, is embedded in Lucien’s gut. His long, pale fingers areclenched over the steel, scarlet blood welling up between them. “Please, don’tdo this. I’m your friend. I’m still your friend.”

“Liar!” Feyre sees, as if in slow motion, Tamlinpulling an arrow from his quiver and nocking it. Leveling it at Lucien’s heart.

Come. Now.That’s all the warning she’s able to give Rhys before she flings up her hand,and Tamlin’s arrow shatters against her shield.

“Don’t hurt him. Don’t you dare.” Darkness dances over her outstretched fingers, forming intotalons for a moment before dissolving into shadow once more.

Tamlin whirls to face her. “Feyre? What…” Thewords die in his throat.

“Surprise,” Feyre snarls, the heavy wings onlyLucien has seen before settling between her shoulderblades. “Touch him again,and you’ll pay in pain.”

“My, my, Feyre darling…” Unlike the first time heappeared in the Spring Court, there’s no clap of thunder, no lightning flash ofdarkness, that accompanies Rhys’s arrival. Instead, he simply steps to herside, straightening his lapels, his darkness winding into hers like a sweetcaress. “Such manners. And to a High Lord, too. I never would have thought itof you. Oh, wait…” He gives her a wicked grin.

“Prick,” she murmurs affectionately. Thank you for coming so quickly.

Anytime,Feyre. He glances at her, violet eyes soft. I’ll always come to you when you call.

“You –” Tamlin nocks another arrow, but seems notto know who to point it at. “Fuck. Fuck.Get away from her, you bastard.”

“Tam,” Lucien croaks. He’s still bleeding, hisface paling by the second. “Tam, for the Mother’s sake, leave it. You can’t –they’re mates, they’re in love. Let them be.”

“You,”Tamlin snarls again, whipping around to face Lucien, dropping his bow andgrabbing another of his knives, lunging at the red-haired Fae now that Feyre isdistracted –

“Ah, ah, ah…” Rhys winnows between them with asharp crack. “I think little Lucien’s suffered enough, don’t you?” Feyrestares, a smile growing slowly on her face, as Rhys turns around and carefullypulls Lucien to his feet. Then, as Lucien stumbles, his eyelids fluttering,Rhys (not without a small sigh) sweeps the other male into his arms. “Don’tread anything into this,” Feyre hears Rhys murmur to him. “This is the firstand last time this will ever happen.”

“We’ll be leaving now, Tamlin,” Feyre says,striding over to join her mate and her friend. “Next time we see each other…you’d better have chosen the right side. Because if not, it’ll be the last.”

“Is that a threat?” he snaps, hands white-knuckledon his knife.

“No, Tam,” Feyre croons. At her command, thetemperature and light in the room drop, as if the sun has gone out. “It’s a promise.”

Then she places a hand on Rhys’s shoulder, andthey winnow.