#like i would understand if they were lesser fae or something

[toast-com]

So...

Are the Illyrians lesser fae or what? What are they? They obviously aren't High Fae so... what are they?? And, another question: Why didn't SJM explain any of this? She should have.

[kirarinlovesidols]

Prologue part 2.

Before we start i must put a warning (more like explanation) here since some of you were confused lmao. I did talk about it in my lore post but thought i should put this here too.

But basically MC and Nahida's roles were not only switched but also changed slightly, the story of sumeru as well.

Like, the reader is called LESSER LORD Rukkhadevata cause they take on Nahida's role of being the bird inside a cage.

Nahida is called GREATER LORD Kusanali and is the OG archon who helped deshret save the desert. She just didn't die, just shrank in size and somehow retained her memories.

Does that mean a lot of shit in Sumeru would change? yes. But this isn't a genshin story so what happened there will rarely be mentioned in detail.

Anyway that's all, sorry about the confusion.

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You were usually nervous if not straight up shy but now? now you’re just angry. You had to deal with the stress of getting chased around by a creature you do not even understand where it came from, apparently got transported into another world and now you had to listen to people calling your powers unstable. That was an insult to the Irminsul itself and even YOU weren’t just going to stand by it.

If you thought the stares of the other students were overwhelming then, now it’s almost unbearable. In normal circumstances the cowardly Lesser Lord that you are would just hold her head down and try to ignore it but everyone has a breaking poing, this is yours.

“Is she Fae? i mean look at those ears!”

“I guess so? what other explanation would we have?” The gossiping was getting a bit out of hand and coming from the dorm that was apparently under the red haired boy so he glared at his underclassmen to get them to shut up.

“Grrrrrrrr!”  Grim growled from inside his cube-like prison, wondering what the hell was it even made out of? why couldn’t he burn it? and why did it smell nice in there?

“He…isn’t yours?” Asked Crowley dumbfounded

“No, i’ve never seen him in my life.” You said with a deadpan expression, arms crossed.

The man nervously cleaned his throat– “*Ahem* Then I shall have it expelled from campus. I shall even spare it from being served as dinner.”

Your face IMMEDIATELY contorted in disgust at the thought of the people here eating a cat. Now that was vile.

“My, but I AM kind. ...Someone take this away, please.”  Crowley just settled for ignoring you and held the cube in front of him, expecting someone to come and dispose of the creature inside.

“Oh, right!”  With a snap of your fingers Grim was now free from his prison but being held down by the glasses wearing boy with the weird charismatic voice of earlier.

“Leave it to me, headmage. I’ll be sure to properly deal with him.”  With a merchant’s smile on his lips the boy walked past both of you. However…you didn’t miss his whispering, low yet you could barely make it out.

“I have never seen such magic before…i MUST have it…” You’ll….pretend like you didn’t hear that, it’s for the better. Your powers aren’t something one can easily steal anyway.

“Nooooo! Let me gooooo! You fools better remember my name!”  Grim’s voice started fading in the distance the further he got dragged from the mirror chamber.

“Cause I'm gonna go down in the annals of magic history! Just you wait!”

Your expression softened as you felt a bit sorry for him. There must be a reason to why he was so desperate to stay despite being a…monster? creature? whatever he is. Still fascinating though.

“I hope he can get back home safely…” You whispered to yourself before hearing Crowley let out a big sigh.

“Well, that was quite the unexpected fracas. I hereby declare that orientation has concluded.

Housewardens, please escort your students back to the dorms.” At his permission the students who happened to be sitting down or browsing their phones stood up, preparing to move.

Some of them still stared and some others did a sign using their thumb and pinky while mouthing “call me”. What did that even mean, call who? where?

“..Hm? Come to think of it, I don't see Housewarden Draconia of House Diasomnia anywhere.” The masked man wondered cupping his chin.

“And that surprises you? Dude's a total recluse.” The animal-eared boy said followed by a quick yawn.

“Wait a sec... Did anyone even invite him?” The red eyed boy asked.

“If you're that worried about him missing out, maybe you should have told him yourself.” The pretty boy examined his nails, they still seemed to be drying.

“Maybe, but I don't know him too well either…” The red eyed young man looked to the side apologetically.

You wondered why were they playing ping pong with the idea of inviting this “Draconia” person to an important ceremony. You weren’t an specialist but wasn’t it normal to…check? or…communicate properly? 

“Draconia... Like, Malleus Draconia? THAT Draconia?”

“Holy shit i didn’t think the rumors were true…is it too late to backpedal?”

“I wonder if my mom would be mad if i just went home early.”

At this point you were starting to feel a stress headache setting in so you rested your hand on your forehead and closed your eyes for a few minutes, so when you came back to the land of the living all these people would be gone.

“....kkha……R…..Miss Rukkha!”  Oh. You didn’t really….hear that.

“Please pay attention when people are talking to you.” At that she just gave him a look that only said “I’m so very sorry”.

He seemed to accept the “apology” and resumed talking.

“Well, Miss Rukkha This is a most unfortunate turn of events, I'm afraid that you will not be attending Night Raven Collage after all.” He sounded relieved to finally get rid of you which was rude to say the least. He could at least pretend.

Not that you care about him caring about you but…it’s not very nice, alright?

“Surely you realize that I cannot very well admit a female student with unstable magic to my academy, right?”   He put a hand on your back in the same way a father would to comfort his children, which made you VERY upset again.

First of all. How many times are you going to have to say your powers ARE NOT UNSTABLE! you felt like you were truly going to lose it and show him true unstable. However he seemed to realize you didn’t enjoy that term very much, your face spoke volumes, so he straight up just talked over you to avoid hearing what he considers to be whiny bullshit from some random ass girl who…honestly….scares him a little bit when angry.

“BUT! worry not. The Dark Mirror will see you safely home. Now, step into the gate, and visualize the place you came from.”   You were going to let that one slide since he was going to send you home, FINALLY.

You cannot BELIEVE you’re going to say this but…your cage back in the Sanctuary of Surasthana is looking real comfortable right now, you just want to sleep for another 500 years actually. Being around people is wonderful as it’s draining.

And yet…a small part of you screamed at you for even accepting to go home. You’re finally free! run away! go live your life!

You crushed such thoughts under an airtight sense of guilt.

You had no right to run away or to have some life outside of Sumeru. Even if you were usually held captive there STILL were things you could do for the people, that’s why you used Katherine as your proxy sometimes. And….Greater Lord Kusanali would be worried if you disappeared. You didn’t want to give her anymore grief than you already have.

So you stepped in front of the mirror, closed your eyes and imagined yourself back in your prison.

“O Dark Mirror! Return this soul to where it belongs!”   Crowley extended his hand as if issuing a command.

Yet…

Nothing happened.

Nada.

Utterly disappointing.

“Ahem* L-let us, er...try this again. O Dark Mirror! Return this soul—” He commanded the mirror to try again only for it to cut him off.

“There is no such place.”   At that your heard dropped. You were already starting to get nervous but huh? what do you MEAN there’s no such place? it can’t send you back?

“What?” The man demanded an explanation but was just as confused as you were.

“There is no place in this world where this soul belongs,none.”

You flinched. 

You already knew that. You knew there was no place for you anywhere. Not in Sumeru, not in the Akademiya, not in the desert, not even…in another world.

“How can that be? My, but today is a veritable cavalcade of impossible phenomena!” The headmage held his head on his hands, ready to give up — “This has never happended throughout my long tenure. I must confess that I am at something of a loss”

He looked at you again, ignoring your obviously sad expression.

“Tell me: From what land do you hail?” That question hurt you even more.

You just smiled bitterly, holding back tears. Your eyes lidded with sadness highlighted your face as you answered.

“Teyvat….”

The man shook his head lightly.

“I'm afraid I am not familiar with such a place.”

⟥────────✤────────────────────⟤

Never have you thought you would get out of your cage. If you told your past self she would be able to actually experience the world with her own body she would’ve laughed and…then started crying, maybe.

At the moment you found yourself sitting on top of a dusty couch inside a VERY creepy dorm. The ceiling had a bunch of holes, which wouldn’t be too bad since that means at least the light of the moon would be able to get in but tonight it’s raining. Hard.

You didn’t like the dark and you didn’t like being alone, it leaves you to your own thoughts…and that’s all you’ve ever had for most of the time.

A sigh escaped your mouth as you decided to think about things to occupy your head, like…the fact you can use your powers! right, that. You pull your hand up and watch as dendro energy accumulates there easily. Since you can still use these powers it must mean your link with Irminsul must still be active. Which must also mean…this world can’t be too far away from Teyvat’s firmament.

Crowley said he would find a way for you to get home and even offered you a place to stay even if it was falling apart by the second. So knowing at least you have something as important as the link with the world tree comforts you slightly.

Still…you wondered how Greater Lord Kusanali was doing…did she realize you’re gone? is she sad? is she looking for you? You hope she is.

In almost perfect comedic timing you get a scare from a lightning bolt that seemed to have fallen dangerously close to the dorm. The noise that followed was a tree falling. You flinched at the sound vibrations it caused.

That must’ve been one big tree, yikes….

And if it weren’t enough you suddenly hear a very familiar voice.

“GWAH! It's pouring out there!” Grim just showed up out of literal nowhere soaked to the bone. Yes it scared you as well.

“W-what are you doing here! didn’t you get kicked out?!” You held a hand close to your heart in a feeble attempt to calm it down.

“Bwahaha! That look on your face is priceless! Like a bat that got blasted by a water gun.” He grinned and then shook the water off his body, on you. Deadass.

“Urgh! you didn’t have to do that! now i’m soaked too!” You closed your eyes and tried to shield yourself as much as you could, to no avail though.

“That’s called revenge for locking me up! anyway, you really thought i wouldn't just sneak back onto campus the second I escaped pryin' eyes? You all got no idea what I'm capable of!” Grim puffed his chest as a smirk graced his face.

“I get that you’re very persistent, if anything.” You took off your now soaked robe and materialized your usual garments. Your dress was way too long and it dragged on the dusty floor but you could just either wash it later or outright float.

Grim looked at you with a clear judgmental expression— “Your magic is so flashy, kinda hurts my eyes!”  He rubbed his paws on his face to prove his point. 

“I’m not the one spitting fire everywhere, mister.” Your hands rested on your waist as you “scolded” him.

“Why did you come back anyway? Aren’t you afraid they’re going to kick you out again?” You floated high up to the ceiling and using your pointer fingers you made a little “square” as if you were scanning the holes on the wood or just pretending to use a camera. After a few seconds dendro energy formed and filled the spots where the water was coming from.

You weren’t as creative as Greater Lord Kusanali when it came to your Irminsul powers but you still could do somethings with it. Still, this was a power used mainly to create, not destroy.

“Alright, fixed.” You floated down back to sit on the couch just in time for Grim to answer.

“Isn't it obvious?” He climbed on the little coffee table in front of you and waved his paws excitedly.

“I was born to do this! I'm a magical prodigy who's got the makin's to become one of the greatest mages who ever lived! So I've been waitin' and waitin' for that black carriage to come for me, and yet…” — His gaze seemed to get sadder for a second before shrugging it off and going back to normal.

“Hrmph! That Dark Mirror's got no eye for talent! That's why I took the initiative and came here myself.”  He jumped down from the table and motioned for you to go to the side.

“Scoot over! it’s freezing here!”  Oh. You were kinda taking a lot of space. You moved your legs to rest on the floor properly and smiled at the cat.

“Well, Grim. I think that’s very cool of you to chase after your dream, surely you can become a great mage.”  It was genuinely impressive of him to try and take fate in his own hands — uh…paws. His eyes were full of hopes and dreams, just like the children of sumeru whose dreams you used to watch over.

Needless to say he did a double take, not used to such kind words coming from anyone much less humans.

“W-what? that’s so cheesy! don’t say that kind of stuff out nowhere! myahh, so lame!”

Obviously a bit embarrassed the cat just hissed and swatted at her, only managing to look cute in the process. Still that was rude!

“That’s so rude! i was just trying to say i believe in you!”

You two bickered for a few minutes until Grim went deathly still.

“Hm? what is it?” You ask in confusion.

“Did you…hear that?” He seemed to be staring pretty hard at something so you turn your head to see what it was about.

“Hear…what?” Ok, now that was scary. You aren’t the best when it comes to stuff like this.

“I think it came from the corridor…” Grim squinted as if trying to make out something in the shadows.

“Want to go take a look? i’ll go by myself if you’re scared.” You didn’t want to force him even if you were kinda scared as well. At least floating was better than just stepping on old moldy wood.

“Who are ya calling scared?! I’m way ahead of ya!” Getting on all fours and jumping off the couch the cat bolted straight into the darkness of it.

⟥────────✤────────────────────⟤

“Grim are you sure you heard something?” You floated near him with one of your dendro constructs floating behind you. It wasn’t as effective as a torch but at least it offered some light.

“Yeah i am! i’m not lyin’!”  He hissed again walking slightly behind you, which was ironic considering how enthusiastic he was about finding out the source of the noise earlier.

Creeeeaaak….

Your long ears twitch as you turn your head. Ok, you’re back to being scared.

“I think I just heard something?!” In a panic you tried to direct the little dendro sphere to illuminate the area. 

What a fucking mistake.

“Boo.”

“AHHHHHHHHH! G-GHOSTS!” A scream rips through Grim’s throat.

Yup. Straight out of a classic fontainian horror movie.

The ghost’s face made itself visible due to the eerie green light of your little sphere. It was sincerely terrifying and you wondered why did your powers have to be neon green. Now that’s just foul. You felt your body freeze as you barely stopped yourself from opening a new hole on one of the many unstable walls of this dorm, literally you got jumpscared so badly you lost control of your hability to fly.

Your stomach sank and your breathing stopped as you saw how you were 5 centimeters away from hitting an actual wall.

“Hoooly Archons….” Your voice trembled.

“Yee hee hee... Bwa ha ha ha ha ha.” And to make it worse the ghost was laughing at you both. Your face burned in embarrassment but also anger for being put in such a predicament and in such an embarrassing pose.

You properly stood straight and immediately regretted ever being scared, for the supernatural being was anything but.

A goofy face, a top hat….really? he looked like a character from one of the books you read to children when borrowing Katherine’s body.

“We haven't had visitors in ages!” Said the ghost with the top hat. “All the people who used ta live here got scared of us and ran away.” Another one popped up from behind him. They both wore top hats so it’s best to just call one big ghost and medium ghost for now.

You looked down at Grim who only shivered pathetically.Yeah, seemed like you would have to do something about this yourself.

“We just want a new ghost to play with! What do you say, buddy?” The big ghost was getting a bit too close for comfort so with a flick of your wrist your dendro construct homed in on him and immediately changed shape as it got close, changing into a rectangle. Basically just a longer form of the cube prison you had kept Grim in before.

And you thought you had him, you really did.

Except your target literally phased through it. You couldn’t constrict something that was incorporeal after all.

Nice one, dumbass. You better take that L as well.

You gasped as realization hit you. SEE? this is why you weren’t good enough! if it was Greater Lord Kusanali she wouldn’t even have done something so stupid!

“Grim?! do you want to maybe help me?” You said panicking yet AGAIN. If this kept going they could possibly kill you two since they mentioned they wanted more ghost buddies.

“I'm a master sorcerer! I ain't afraid of any dumb ghosts!” Amidst his shivering the cat managed to talk the talk but couldn’t walk the walk. His fire missed the ghosts by a mile due to having his eyes closed which just raised your concerns tenfold.

“Nuh-uh. Not even close.” A new ghost mocked the sorcerer-wannabe, this one a lot thinner? let’s just call him tall ghost.

“Over here! Over here! Ah ha ha ha!” The big and tall one kept circling him as if toying with his inability to actually hit his targets.

“Grim! You’ll set the entire dorm ablaze if this keeps going, please open your eyes and aim properly!” Even YOU had to dodge one of his blasts. His pyro energy was strong, there was just not sign of control much less technique.

“Shaddup! I don't need any lip from you, human!” Now he was just taking out his frustration over being incompetent on you, absolutely unnecessary.

You hoped that what you’re about to say doesn’t get you in trouble with Crowley later.

“Listen! maybe if you get rid of them mister Crowley will let you enroll in the academy! wouldn’t that be nice? being a hero?”  You felt so bad for using his pride like that, truly another thing that just made you different from Kusanali and deserving of being called the Lesser Lord. She would never use something as dirty as manipulation to get people to listen to her. But this is all you can do so you would dwell on such thoughts later.

“Myah...?! Hmph... I'm Grim, Master Sorcerer! How come I can't even hit one of these little-” Another missed hit that ended up making a very obvious burn mark on the wood. 

“Grrrr! Stop ganging up on us! yer a buncha cowards!” Ok that wasn’t enough…so you’ll have to try harder.

“I’ll help you! surely if i tell mister Crowley how cool you were he’ll understand!” Yup, you’re so going to drown in guilt later.

“Ugh! You tell me which way the ghosts are!”  Grim finally gave in to the idea of teamwork and turned to you. He was expecting some kind of quote or something ridiculous but most certainly not you picking him up and using him a flamethrower.

“HEY! THIS ISN’T WHAT I MEANT!”  The monster struggled and even scratched you a bit. His claws were very sharp so a little blood trickled down your arms. Pain wasn’t anything new, however it’s been at least 5 centuries since you got hurt.

“I-I’m sorry! this is just way easier! i’ll make it up to you later!” That was all you could tell him before one of the ghosts went in for the kill again.

So in this very goofy way you and Grim made sure they disappeared. By the end you were both mentally and physically exhausted.

Archons you had no stamina at all, this was horrible.

“We did it…we did it Grim….” You said while trying to get your breathing to go back to normal.

“Aw, geez, I was scared outta my-” He ceased immediately and coughed before resuming—

“I mean, they didn't faze me one bit! just a walk in the park for a mage of my caliber! Whaddaya got to say now, ghosties? That's right!” Well that’s rich coming from the guy who was shivering so bad he looked like a whole chihuahua.

“Sure Grim…you’re truly amazing…” You rolled your eyes. Buttering him up was for the better after all.

“Good evening. In another gesture of my immense kindness, I have brought you dinner.” Crowley let himself inside the dorm only to see you wearing some weird clothes he had never seen anywhere before and a very much not-thrown-outside Grim.

“Wait. That's the creature we ejected for causing trouble at orientation! What is it doing here?!” He looked at you as if expecting some kind of explanation, you just gave him an apologetic smile and shrugged. The cat just got in, that’s all.

“Takin' care of yer ghost problem, that's what. You're welcome, by the way!” Grim’s forked tail swayed in annoyance.

“What’s the meaning of this Miss Rukkha? But you know, on that topic, I do seem to recall that this dorm had a mischievous ghost problem…Ah, yes... That's why it was abandoned, in fact. The ghosts scared away all the students. And you're saying that you two joined forces to drive them away?” He stared at both of you with a weird expression on his face, you didn’t like that.

“ ‘Joined forces’ ain't exactly how I'd describe it, More like I drove 'em away, and the human watched. Don’t I deserve a can of tuna for this?”  What? you tried! what you could do was limited! the enemy was incorporeal and Irminsul didn’t allow nor you or Greater Lord Kusanali to use desctructive powers! what else were you supposed to do?

“T-That’s not true! I tried to help! it’s just that…my powers were completely useless against something that can phase through walls!”  There was no reason for you to explain yourself to this figure of authority yet you did, you felt like you had to.

“Would you two be so kind as to demonstrate your ghost-eradication methods for me?” Oh yeah, he’s planning something.

Grim hissed at that.

“One, no, 'cause I already wiped 'em all out. And two, no, 'cause where's my tuna?!” No one ever said there would be tuna, he literally made that up.

“I will play the part of the ghosts. As for the tuna, you'll receive it when you defeat me. Oh, what generosity, Crowley…” The masked man wiped an imaginary tear from his face. 

“Ah, you gotta be kiddin' me. I gotta work together with the human again?” Grim looked at you with an expression that said “dude i’m tired of this”. And you felt even more offended. You had been nothing but kind to him! why was this pyro cat so mean? still you did say all of that about him enrolling earlier so…you’ll feel even worse later if you don’t at least try to get him inside NightRaven.

“It won’t be that bad, this could be your chance to show off and enroll!” You gave him a wink followed by a thumbs up.

⟥────────✤────────────────────⟤

After another “””””””””ghost hunting””””””””” session and a convoluted conversation you managed to get Grim enrolled.

His happiness made you a bit happy as well. Maybe it was his childish behavior but you felt like you couldn’t leave him alone.

And you couldn’t anyway, since the both of you are now the “janitorial team”. You read in a book once a saying that went “Those who don’t work shall not eat”, so cleaning up the school seemed like a fair deal considering he was letting you stay here despite being from another world and breaking rules.

Besides, taking odd jobs like these would allow you to have more freedom and  check out the books inside the library, maybe they had something about sending you back to Teyvat.

You stared at the ceiling while laid in the bed you had to share with Grim since it was the only clean one and you both were tired, ruminating on why you had the feeling things would go wrong.

Well, you shall know for sure when the sun rises up again.

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I've been writing this since 1pm, it's 1am now.

I take so long to write smth so cringe, oh my god.

As always, sorry and boy am i tired!

Part 3 should be coming in sunday and the final part on monday.

After that i'll be addressing the love interests and then start book 1.

Also taglist before i forget: @coffee-or-hot-cocoa

[acourtofthought]

hi, so.. i'm genuinely curious. why do you ship gwyn and azriel? because for me, i don't think gwyn has shown any romantic interest in azriel, and even he himself thinks they're not close enough to be friends. do you think sjm is going to throw all of elriel's moments away in previous books just for a ship built off of a spark in the chest and a private dagger lesson which happened off page?

because if she does, i think it will be fan service. major fan service.

thank you.

You say all the E/riel moments but if you really care about what I have to say (as you felt the need to message me) I hope you'll actually pay attention to the things I'm telling you.

It's not all the E/riel moments. It's all the E/riel moments that were almost instantly followed up by Az's fixation on someone else or lack of true interest on his part.

Az figured out Elain was a Seer? He then went on and agreed that they shouldn't bother following through on her visions.

Az announced he'd get Elain back only after Cassian first said they'd get her back? He went on to disobey Feyre's orders to get Elain to safety so he could stay behind and save Feyre, risking Elain's life in the process. He also said he'd be the one who could also take Briar though it was Elain who helped save her, something Az never acknowledged. Just like he never acknowledged her saving him too when kicking the hounds and Cassian, Nesta when she stabbed the king.

Az gave Elain TT? That's because Mor begged him to sit out of battle. He sat out of the one thing he's known for, being the first to throw himself into danger, because the female he in canon loved at the time had tears in her eyes and asked him not to enter the fight. Also, he didn't bother to check on Elain after the war or provide his condolences for the loss of her father.

Az was so sweet taking the potatoes from Elain's hand? Only a few chapters before he was relieved not to have to get her a gift to help her celebrate her first Solstice after being turned fae and he went on to stare at Mor with heat and yearning while Elain sat in the room with them.

He stared at Elain's headache powder for a year while he imagined what she'd look like during sex? He was pissy towards Helion because of Helion's question on where Mor was. He interrupted Nesta's question to Feyre on whether Elain knew about the pregnancy to ask if Mor knew. And because he STILL looks at Mor with longing glances. "Few and Far between" doesn't equal Zero. It means they still exist though to a much lesser degree......all while he's supposed to be so captivated by Elain. He didn't bother asking Elain how she was doing after her fights with Nesta, didn't bother saying he'd help her train her powers. You know, important things when it comes to endgame couples.

Not to mention Az wasn't remotely affected by Elain's catatonic state, where she was withering away. Lucien was DEVASTATED. Az drew straws so he didn't have to stay behind and guard her. THAT'S supposed to be who I want for Elain? The IC was not allowed to enter the Rite otherwise it would guarantee death to them all. Nothing prevented Az from staying with Elain to guard her.

Did you read the TOG series? Did you see how many moments existed between Dorian and Celeana? Beautiful moments too. Did you see what transpired between Celaena and Chaol? She literally tells Chaol that she'd always choose him, she says that he is her home.

Tell me how anything that happened between Az and Elain is any more poetic than what we witnessed between Celaena and Chaol yet Sarah had no problems chucking that out the window.

How about the buildup between Nesryn and Chaol? Sarah had her travel with him to the Torres Cesme, she was willing to accept him with his disability yet Sarah knocked down that house of cards in Tower of Dawn.

Dorian and Sorscha?

Feyre was engaged to Tamlin for gods sakes.

I truly don't understand how you think buildup means anything in Sarah's books. Unless two characters are mates, Sarah will easily tear down whatever buildup once existed between two non mates.

Theia and Fionn were forbidden lovers yet she went on to stand by impassioned as he was murdered only to later be willing to give up everything for Aidas, her mate.

And though you'll refuse to see it, I think Sarah already ended them on Solstice. Az and Elain were doomed from the start and there has now been 7 months that have passed from Solstice until the events of HOFAS. We are given absolutely no buildup for the E/riel ship in all that time, not since Elain returned his necklace. There has been no on page bantering between them, no longing glances, not even an indiscernible peak out of the corner of their eyes at one another.

"All the E/riel buildup" except it's already gone? E/riels entire buildup amounted to an almost kiss that never happened in a bonus chapter which makes it pretty easy for Sarah to move on from considering she tore down Feyre's engagement to Tamlin within the span of a few chapters. And Feyre and Tamlin had an entire book dedicated to them.

You can ship E/riel still, of course, but you can't honestly act like it would be difficult for an author like SJM to walk away from whatever they had going since she had no issues breaking apart multiple other characters who shared so much more.

Serious question for you.

How many books do you read where at the very start of the novel, the two characters instantly want one another?

Did Claire want Jamie at the start of Outlander? Pretty sure she was married to and in love with her husband. She also tried to escape back to said husband after marrying and sleeping with Jamie.

I just read a book where the guy ends up helping a girl who was homeless and she's worried that he'll expect sexual favors from her as she's seen happen on the streets and he says and thinks "she's not remotely my type" though of course they end up together and she's the most beautiful thing ever.

Off the top of your head I'm guessing you can't tell me 5 books where the endgame couple starts the book already in love or romantically interested in one another. So why would Az and Gwyn not being true friends yet be a problem at all?

As far as Gwyn's interest or lack thereof, I don't even need the bonus but if after 2 years and knowing what Elain did during the war he still doesn't think she's capable of handling the darkness of the trove but after a few months he believes in Gwyn's ability to make it through the Rite, it's pretty obvious who the author is setting up as his love interest. Sarah's writing and preferred behavior for her MMC with his endgame person is not difficult to spot at this point.

While we don't currently have confirmation of physical attraction (something that could easily change with a simple change of pov), we do have confirmation of curiousity on Gwyn's part. And a lot of admiration on Az's side.

How is that not a wonderful jumping off point for these two characters? Az is no stranger to lust for beautiful females but he doesn't often give them credit for standing on their own two feet. And Gwyn's curiousity about Az, a male, after what happened to her, is a huge step forward already.

Gwyn started SF not having left the library in 2 years but by the end she was fine being alone with Az on the top of the roof in the middle of the night. She was teasing him over his title, "Shadowsinger."

I'm not sure how you don't see that as being playful / flirtatious. Does that mean she's in love with Az and wants to jump his bones? No, it's just the first hints we're seeing. I'd rather only see hints of something before two characters are ready to bang one out on page before they've even had a POV and shared any sort of meaningful conversation (which Az and Elain have never done, they have never spoken about anything of true importance). That's the difference between a romance book with sex and a book with smut.

As for Az, I'd much rather wait for his romance to build on page, where he's only focused on one female, rather than the shit-show that has been the Mor / Elain situation. Where he can't even admit to his best friend that he's over Mor in the same chapter he thinks how he's not thought of a plan on how to be with Elain beyond his sexual fantasies.

Elain deserves a hell of a lot better than that. And so does Gwyn. Which is why I'm glad Az isn't romantically interested in her at this point in time. Have you ever liked a guy who was panting over you and another girl? It's really not the romance E/riels like to pretend it is and I'd rather Az truly come to terms with his past with Mor and letting her go (something that he has not fully done) before he shows any romantic interest for his endgame person. But with Gwynriel I see that future potential. The banter already exists, she's a bit bloodthirsty like Az, she's seen him slaughter which means she's seen a little what Az is capable of versus how he's behaved around Elain, and his shadows are happy around her (which is better than how Az notes they tend to vanish around Elain after telling us how they're his companions). Not to mention Az won't suffer being around someone who already has a mate and will forever have that mate.

Crying fanservice because you don't get your way rather than paying attention to the author you're reading is a copout and I hope you respect Sarah's writing more than that.

[yourlittlebunnyy]

a court of shadows and darkness

masterlist - prologue - next chapter

chapter one

summary: Selaene, Rhysand's sister, Azriel's mate runs away after the High Lord of Spring tries to kill her.

warnings: - (ltm if you find any)

enjoy!!

The young Fae hesitates after hearing such words. Had someone else been stuck like her? As she pulls the dagger away from her neck and makes sure she has a good grip on it-despite her lack of skill in using it.

"Is anyone there?" her voice is not as steady as she wanted it to be.

Footsteps echo in the void, and she cannot make out which way they are coming from. "Who are you?" she asks again and no one answers, and yet a sense of calm makes her let go slightly of her grip on the dagger. What would be the point? This is probably her fate: death. The High Lord has attempted it, and she will probably now be killed by whatever hides in the dark. It is written in her history, she finds herself pondering. A bitter laugh shakes her shoulders; she was a fool to think of bypassing the Mother's will.

"What are you laughing at, little girl?"

"Are you here to kill me?"

"No." A simple, dry, almost bored answer. The footsteps restart and this time, although she does not understand the direction, they are getting closer. But her scent does not change or fade with the smell of fear; no, she remains lying on her back, arms along her sides and eyes closed, one hand barely holding her mate's dagger.

Perhaps, a small thought makes its way into her, into her heart, whoever this creature is, she was sent by the Mother just to keep her from dying.

Perhaps death is not his fate, at least not now.

What for, though? To enjoy watching her rot in the most obscure place of all, in the UnderWorld?

She can feel the creature come even closer, and she notices that it is not someone with human features, probably some strange Lesser Fae who took a chance and ended up here. The figure comes so close to her that she can feel its warm breath at her side, and then with a thud, it lies down next to her. She hears its deep breaths, probably trying to smell and identify her, given the lack of light. Something brushes against her arm, some coat of fur. Could it be an Higher Fae capable of shape-shifting?

"What are you?"

"I am a Higher Fae, but I have been stuck in my animal form."

A moment of silence creeps between the two Fae, as if it were a calculating pause between two warriors studying each other from opposite sides of the battle.

It is only then that the young Fae shudders, her body having now officially exhausted all adrenaline reserves, causing her to remain sore and cold. She moves almost imperceptibly closer to the creature, which emanates a comforting warmth. And as she feels every part of her body slowly relax, her eyelids close and a feeling of comforting heat envelops her mind, a deeper, steadier breath accompanying the gentle transition between wakefulness and sleep.

It may have been only hours, or entire days, when Fae wakes up to find the creature still at her side.

"'Welcome back.'"

She discovers with pleasure that a small scar now remains in her side, and that her body has stopped aching as if she had been carrying a rock on her back all her life.

"Are there other people here?" The other Fae does not answer, but she can feel her body move in a nod of denial.

"I was only able to find you because of the smell of your blood and the heightened senses of my form."

"What are you?"

"A white tiger."

"And what is that?"

"You've never seen a white tiger?" her voice sounds surprised.

"No."

"When we find the light and you see me, you will see your first white tiger."

The young girl doesn't answer for a while, "Is there any light here?"

"Maybe." Another pause, this time longer, "I have been here for a while..."

"Really?" a movement makes her realize the tiger is nodding, "How did you manage to survive without water, or food?"

"I realized just a little while ago that ... time does not flow here as it does in the world above us. Here it is as if we are on pause. I look the same as when I arrived, although it's been ... years."

"Years?"

"I'm not sure." This time it was the young woman's turn to nod.

"And in all these years you haven't found light? Or an exit?"

"No, but I think there is a way."

A glimmer of hope clutched her chest just enough to hurt, "tell me how."

"Maybe it's easier to show you."

Beside her she feels the tiger's body move and stand up, and she finds herself following her through the void, orienting herself only by the sound of her footsteps echoing in space.

"I don't think it's a good idea to move away from where I came from."

The tiger lets out a snort that is more animalistic than human. The young woman finds it best to keep her mouth shut.

After walking for what seemed like hours, the other Fae stops and lies down on the floor made of darkness.

"Are we there yet?"

"No. According to my reckoning, we are now at the border of the Day Court."

"And where- where do we need to get to?"

"To Under the Mountain Realm."

A full day's flight, almost a week's walk. That means they walked almost two days, without ever stopping, without uttering a word, or without drinking even a drop of water. Two whole days.

"But why am I not thirsty, or sleepy?"

"I've already told you, time here ... It's as if our bodies freeze. Now sleep."

"You never told me your name."

"Vanessa, what about you?"

"Selaene."

Selaene wakes up feeling something soft and warm brush against her cheek, interrupting her sleep. When she slowly opens her eyes she can almost catch a glimpse of the tiger's moon-colored fur.

"Let us continue." The young Fae does not respond, but gets up silently and follows the tiger. They walk on for what seems like a day, the only audible noise the sound of their footsteps.

"Do you think there are other people like us here?"

"I'm sure there are."

"Thank you for...for stopping me earlier."

Vanessa doesn't answer her, but a puff of air echoes through the air as if to say no big deal. Neither of them speaks yet, instead the tiger stops and invites the young woman to rest.

The next day, or at least what the Fae thinks it is, they find themselves walking again. Selaene does not want to be intrusive, but she has so many doubts to clear up with Vanessa, who seems to have an answer to every question she has. Who knows how long she has been here, she finds herself thinking, to know all this.

As the days of walking pass, Selaene realizes that neither of them feels like having a conversation, despite the many questions she would like to ask the tiger. The darkness and the pattering of the shifter's paws have slowly turned into an instrument of torture, and the young Fae can only wonder if getting to wherever she is being led would make any difference.

Last night, as she heard the steady breathing of the sleeping animal beside her, she tried to contact her mate through the bond, only to find ... nothing.

She spent the night trying to muffle the sobs as she felt the only part that would be able to keep her rational ... disappear. Because Azriel, her mate, was gone. The bond was dead.

And the worst thing was not that Selaene wanted to feel his support and love through it, the one that was her only light in this darkness, but the fact that the ShadowSinger is probably feeling the same things. And if she feels the bond dying - no, if she simply doesn't feel the bond, then neither does he. And that means he thinks she's dead. And he -- oh gods.

By now this path, she thinks as she follows Vanessa into the unknown, is useless. It makes no difference to her, because her last hope is gone.

The tiger does not speak to her until the last stop, and Selaene, on her part, does not even try to open her mouth.

She does not allow herself to cry yet, but she knows deep down that Vanessa has realized that something is wrong. Perhaps, she even dares to think that that night she actually heard everything and a kind of silent understanding, a silent respect, was sparked between the two.

"Maybe we should rest," the first to break the silence is the white-coated Fae. After that, the emptiness drops between them again, and Selaene realizes that this silence is louder than anything else, because it allows her to focus only on her thoughts.

"You know," the other female begins, "I-I've been through what you're going through, too." She waits a while, as if to see if Selaene would respond, and when she does not, she goes on.

"I know this emptiness ... it's scary. But ... now we are no longer alone. You have me. And I have you, Selaene." The young woman wanted to tell her that she didn't care about her, or whatever place they're looking for, because the moment the bond was gone, she realized she had other problems than clinging to that tiny glimmer of hope. Because there is none, and in her there never will be.

"Selaene. Listen to me. I too -- I too have left someone dear to me up there. But if you don't try, if you don't hope, you're going to go crazy. You'll end up using that dagger like you did when you got here."

"My mate thinks I'm dead, and I'm stuck in the UnderWorld. What do you expect me to do?" as she breaks the silence for the first time in days, her voice more broken than she thought.

"Selaene..."

"No. I don't... I don't care, Vanessa."

"It doesn't matter. When you see -- when you see them, it will light up some hope in you, too." And with that, the absence of noise settled over them again like a phantom blanket.

The next day they walked half as far as they had walked before. Everything around her was such a bright black, she wondered if she would ever see the colors again before she died, assuming she would die in this place where you don't age.

"We have arrived.", Selaene looks around and sees... nothing.

"Is this a joke?"

"No, we will stay here as long as it takes."

previous chapter - next chapter

[olenvasynyt]

26 for Lucien, Eris, Tamlin, Rhys, Feyre, Nesta (sorry lol I want to see you go on both rants and gushes)

For this character ask game

26. What's something the character has done you can't get over? Be it something funny, bad, good, serious, whatever?

Alrighty, get ready:

Lucien:

I will never ever ever be able to get over him and Jesminda and just his entire backstory. I love a good forbidden romance and unhappy ending, and I love young, rakish Lucien rebelling against Beron and the Autumn Court, him finding love in a dark time in his life, respecting and learning about lesser fae culture. And I just love how he is this rakish, charming and witty character who secretly has so much guilt and trauma. This quote I will NEVER be able to get over:

Eris:

Probably his whole past with Mor and why he left her on the border, and also his whole past in general. But specifically about his betrothal with Mor: I totally think Mor reminded Eris of his own mother, which is weird to say but Mor was in a very similar situation as LoA was with this betrothal.

Autumn and the Court of Nightmares are similar; misogyny is super prominent in both of these courts.  Females are suppressed, their virginity is sold; they are abused. Mor and the LoA are both huge examples of this.  They are two females with power who were sold to males: LoA comes from a very strong bloodline of fire wielders, and Mor has…whatever her powers are. 

And I’m not using this to compare Eris to Beron, but Eris knows how females are treated in Autumn, he sees it all the time with his mother.  Mor would be brought into the same court and High Family that abuses and suppresses Eris’ own mother.  So that in my opinion is probably one of Eris’ motives for refusing to take her in and instead leaving her there on the border.  She was one female that he could protect from Autumn and Beron.

This is actually something that Eris hints at here in ACOSF:

Chapter 14 of ACOSF: “I told you years ago what I wanted, High Lord,” Eris said. “To seize his father’s throne.  “Why?” Cassian asked. Eris grasped what he meant apparently, because flame sizzled in his eyes.  “For the same reasons I left Morrigan untouched at the border.” “You left her there to suffer and die,” Cassian spat. Eris sneered.  “Did I?  Perhaps you should ask Morrigan whether or not that is true.  I think she finally knows the answer.”

Cassian is like, “Why do you want Autumn’s throne?”  Eris answers, “Because the male currently sitting on that throne sucks and abuses females including my mother.”  

And this quote actually illustrates something I find frustrating.  Mor wanted to cancel the betrothal so she slept with Cassian to do so.  And Eris understood that.  When she was dumped at the Autumn border, he was like okay, I understand what you did. You slept with Cassian because you don’t want to be in Autumn.  I got you.  I won’t touch you, because then you’ll be my problem, aka Beron’s problem.  And that makes sense.  

And the IC is almost mad at him for that and it’s so jarring to me.  Because Mor is like I don’t want to be in Autumn, Eris is like cool, then I’ll leave you here and I won’t bring you into Autumn, and the IC is like “You left her there.  How dare you!” 

I am a huge Eris defender, as you can tell lmao. I love him.

Tamlin:

"MY SHAYLAAAA!😩 My Shayla🥺" I will never get over his past and his inherit goodness. He was raised in an abusive household: his father allied with Hybern; he grew up around slavers and murders and abusive people.  Amarantha, a mature, probably several hundred-year-old fae at the time, was lustful of Tamlin.  She was lustful over a child.  A fucking child.  That alone is evidence of how awful his childhood was if he was a child victim to a predator.

He most definitely hated his life and family.  He was ashamed of it, which I think is shown by how he did not want the title of High Lord, how he spoke badly about his brothers and father, and how he became friends with Rhysand, a male who sided against his father in the war.  And the fact that Tamlin grew up in an abusive household and found love and peace through music says a lot about his character.  He was still peaceful at heart and craved something else.  He wanted to join a traveling music band, for fucks sake.  He wanted to get out of his court so badly.

And when he became High Lord, it was violent and sad, and many people supported his father left. And I think Tamlin helped Spring grow a little softer after the Human War.

Rhys:

...you had to throw Rhys and Feyre in there lmao.

There are many things I can't get over when it comes to Rhys but I dislike him in ACOFAS with Tamlin the most. I will never get over him walking into Spring, seeing Tamlin in such a depressed state and Tamlin asking "will Feyre forgive me?" and he kicks him further into the ground. I thought it was so sad and horrible of him! T amlin told your mate to be happy, he SAVED YOUR LIFE, and he has went back to Spring and been in his depression by himself, not hurting you or Feyre or anyone else.

And I will be fully honest: if Tamlin was the one who had died and the High Lords were trying to bring him back, Rhysand would not have lifted a finger. And I think that makes Tamlin the better male than Rhys.

Feyre:

Like Rhys, there are a lot of things Feyre has done that I can't get over 😂😭. I wish Tiktok was still up so I could link the dozens of videos I made ranting about Feyre taking down Spring, or her being a shitty friend to Lucien. But I got this post on tumblr about Feyre being a shitty friend to Lucien, and I got this quote I can simply share:

Chapter 15 of ACOWAR: “Lucien was waiting in the sitting room when Rhus and I came downstairs at last… I fought my cringe as I halted at the threshold.  Lucien was still in his travel-worn, filthy clothes.  His face and hands, at least, were clean, but…I should have gotten him something else.  Remembered to offer him— The thought rippled away into nothing as Rhys appeared at my side.

AJFBEFERGUEVFBJWEFHIFEHJFVEKJHOIF

Nesta:

I just love how Nesta was written in ACOSF (did not like the book, I like Nesta) because I relate to her inner dialogue and self-loathing. She’s so sad and traumatized and that makes her relatable 🙃😂 and people hate on her for “being mean” but I personally love it, and she is (usually) only mean when she’s provoked. I will never get over this exchange with Mor in ACOWAR 😂

[danaedanette]

About racism in ACOTAR

I hate the expression "lesser faerie". It's really horrible to name entire species like this, and more so to call them "lesser" to their face. Plus, we already know that you're racist and arrogant, it's in your name : High Fae. We get it, you're better than everyone else, blabla. No need to overkill it and call others the "lesser" beings, it's insensitive and frankly, if we think about it, it can also come across as insecure. "I'm a HIGH FAE I'm BETTER than you, you're LESSER" yeah yeah, we know.

SJM did not think real hard about this and it's sadden me, because writing about fae is really about limitless opportunities. Faes have some rules like no lying, or the time in fae realms is weird, and some others (and we all know that SJM followed and respected exactly zero of those rules). But as with their appearances and their powers, writers can go crazy and do almost anything they want. And we have SJM, renowned all around the world for her ACOTAR series and her fae writing, and what does she serve us ? Bland ass character. The most human looking her fae are, the most powerful they are. The most "high". Like, not only her faes are raging misogynists, they're also racists. We want escapism, not a carbon copy of our own world with a pinch of glamour

Also, I want to talk about Cassian. Now, we know that Illyrians are considered with contempt by about everyone, so I won't bother pulling quotes from the book. We also know that Cassian, as a bastard, know what it's like to be rejected and hated for something he has no control over, here, his birth. He was just born this way, exactly like "lesser faeries" are born this way. And yet, all Cassian has to say on the matter is : "and we're not lesser faeries, though some try to call us that. We're just — Illyrians". (ACOMAF, chapter 16 page 151) Maybe he doesn't mean anything but it's just feel so... condescendant to me. I feel like there is a subtext of "we're better than lesser faeries" in his phrase.

So. I guess there is no real point to this rant except that SJM is a shitty author. She can't name a specie (or rather, specieS, plural) "lesser faeries" and just leave it there and expect the readers to merrily keep on reading about Feysand fucking in the sky. There is so many issues with using the name "lesser faeries" that need to be adressed. And I genuinely think that SJM just didn't understand that there were issues in using this name in the first place. It's kind of impressive having so little thoughts about your own worldbuilding and about the words you're using when, you know, you're a writer.

So... yeah. If you have thoughts about it, I would love to exchange !

[snailygoon]

Spread 6: ✨AIDEN✨

TEXT: “So how exactly did I come to meet Aiden, you might ask? And what makes him the most wonderful bloke you’ll ever have the honor of being hoisted twenty feet in the air by? First of all, he’s gorgeous. Just look at him! Absolute class. Second of all, he's the most gentle and caring being that walks the earth. Backtracking a bit to that whole crying and running into the woods fiasco I mentioned before, Aiden just so happened to be in a similar situation that day; our paths crossing in an attempt to escape our problems. Noticing my frantic state, and being well aware of the dangers of the forest, he impulsively swept me off the ground and into his palm. I won't lie, I was about ready to shite my soul in fear, but something about the look in his eye calmed me instantly. In a moment of understanding, all our differences became irrelevant, and suddenly we were just two kids in desperate need of a friend. Immediately noticing his cornucopia of a crown, I commented on his spectacular taste in fashion (I didn't know it was quite literally a part of his head. I was 12. leave me alone) and he proceeded to take me around the forest so I could make a crown of my own, all so we could cheer each other up. Since then we’ve been inseparable, and I honestly couldn’t imagine life any other way. Aiden has reminded me of the ways in which we are all intrinsically connected to the forces of nature and each other, exposing me to his world where even the biggest and smallest of Fae and fauna are no lesser or greater than one another. In turn I've gotten to introduce him to my world, showing him the wonderful and bizarre things that have come out of humanity. Things he longed to know, considering the circumstances of his creation. At the end of the day we’re just two souls who once felt like they would never find their place in the world, and then just so happened to find it in each other.”

<(Previous spread) (Next spread)> <<(Beginning)

[headfulloflettuce]

The Human Who Fooled All of Prythian

13. Welcome to Winter Court

Cosette and Ophelia had been very confident in their decision to travel to the Capital of Winter Court, until they stepped outside and got covered in snow by some wind. It was then the two realized they were actually extremely underdressed for the weather; the adrenaline and panic the night of their getaway had kept the feeling of cold at bay. Cosette hugged herself, trying to preserve as much heat as possible, as she and Ophelia walked through the town to a clothing store. 

On second thought, I was most likely getting stared at for going outside today in a basic maid uniform. No wonder the Winter fae stared at me as though I was crazy.

The clothing shop was thankfully not far, marked by a very simple sign that said, ‘Clothing store’. In Cosette’s humble opinion the place received points for its efficiency and lost none for its lack of creativity. 

Ophelia and Cosette breathed a sigh of relief once inside.

Neither of us were built for this weather.

The two dispersed across the store, searching for cheap, warm cloaks. Cosette, still trying to understand fae currency, would select cloaks and then bring them to Ophelia for approval.

While the Autumn Court palette had been a range of bold red to light orange hues, Winter Court’s clothes leaned into the blue color scheme. From baby blue to gray, various designs of cloaks hung around the store. Eventually the two had settled on their outfits, Cosette selecting a light, sky blue cloak and Ophelia a blue-gray one. 

I wonder what differentiates Night Court’s blue tones from Winter Court’s hues…

Cosette stood back to the side as Ophelia haggled with the store owner over prices, the fae’s eyes practically sparkling from excitement as she debated with the poor bloke. Cosette smiled, watching Ophelia expertly disarm the owner’s arguments for higher prices; something about the state of the town, and the fabric quality being subpar.

Her potential is wasted working as the maid to the Lady of a Court. She’d be amazing as a manager, or the head of an HR office. Granted, maybe that is exactly why she was hired for the position.

Within fifteen minutes the two were out in the street, fully dressed and ready to continue their journey.

“That was amazing.” Cosette complimented.

“Oh, thank you.” Ophelia blushed lightly, “I could normally resolve those kinds of disputes within five minutes…”

“Wow, humble brag much?” Cosette shoved her gently.

“Hmpf!” Ophelia shook her head, putting on a pair of thick boots she chose for herself. She then shoved a pair of boots with high heels into Cosette’s hands, “Put these on.”

“Um, why do mine have heels? We’re about to hike through a forest.” Cosette stared at her. The path to the Winter Court’s Capital from the outskirts was not well defined, but certain roads existed to preserve the safety of cargo when it was transported to the center cities from Lesser Fae or animals. It was enough that the two of them shouldn’t get lost.

“Exactly, this is your first lesson. Walking.”

“I know how to walk Ophelia; I am not a baby.” Cosette retorted but slipped on the boots anyways.

“First off you’re in your twenties, which makes you a toddler by faerie standards.”

“A toddler!?” Cosette squawked.

“Second, you walk wrong.”

“First you call me a child, then you insult my walk…” Cosette muttered, stomping ahead.

“Not my fault you have the maturity of one.” Ophelia smiled, following after her, “Your walk is fine for a human Cosette, but a fae walks differently. It’s cleaner, smoother, more perfect.”

“I think you just have a sadistic side to you, Ophelia.” Cosette snarked, “Want to watch me suffer in high heels?”

“For your information the high heels will help you fix your human-like walk.”

“Okay…fine.” Cosette conceded reluctantly, already imagining how painful walking through the forest parts of the trail would be.

Thank goodness the shoes are at least boots and are suitable for the weather.

“Think back to Eris or Beron.” Ophelia said, “Did you notice how they move elegantly?”

“I don’t know, I was too busy fighting for my life.” Cosette remarked dryly, “Though, Eris always had a way of sneaking up on me.”

“Exactly! Faes walk quietly, with poise and agility. We can’t give you inhumane speed, but we can have you smooth out your walk.” 

Cosette nodded, walking awkwardly through the snow-covered road, casting one final glance back. The strange emporium-like store stood as if it was waiting for something, its windows dark with no customers in sight. She shook her head, turning her back to it, ignoring the chill that ran down her spine.

It was just the cold, nothing more.

The sounds of the town quickly fell away behind them. Tall pine trees rested along the road’s edges, with small cedars peeking out, surrounded by bushes. Despite the snowfall, it was obvious the road was frequently used by traders, cart marks were visible where the snow was spotty. 

“See?” Ophelia pointed.

“See what?”

“The way you step on the ground. It’s too aggressive. Too desperate. Even the footprints you leave behind are messy.” she pointed to her own neat marks, “Look, mine have an even shape while yours scatter pieces of snow everywhere.”

“Huh.” Cosette took several more steps, very slowly, trying not to disturb the ground beneath her.

“There! That’s better. Now do the same thing without staring at the ground.”

Cosette kept walking, trying to follow Ophelia’s instructions, stumbling slightly.

“Think of walking as a deliberate act. The more powerful the fae the less animalistic and connected to nature they are. For example, High Fae lack a lot of the more aggressive and abrasive tendencies Lesser Fae have, however, their behavior isn’t casual. It’s deliberate. It emanates power.”

Cosette nodded, taking another step, putting thought and intent behind it, “Doesn’t the power that we feel from High Fae come from their actual magical abilities?” She really doubted that the power she sensed from the nobility of Autumn Court came from their walking habits.

“Well yes, to some extent. High Fae have a natural authority over other faes and humans but take Bero-No, Eris for example. He doesn’t activate his abilities every time he walks into a room, yet you can feel a sense of regality emanating from him. Such traits and behaviors are drilled into High Fae from birth, for average or Lesser Fae a part of it comes naturally, just in a less extreme form.” Ophelia explained, carefully jumping over a couple pieces of logs on the road, “You’re human and thus have no powers, meaning that you will only be able to create a facade of a fae’s aura. Don’t underestimate a good walk, it can fool people into thinking you’re more than you are.”

This all sounded like interview advice I’d hear back home.

Cosette’s foot got caught on one of the logs, causing her to nearly trip. She quickly recovered, resuming her previous attempt at emulating a fae’s walk, doing her best to make her movements as smooth and fluid as possible.

“Hmm.” Ophelia hummed, watching her closely, “Straighten your back and try relaxing a bit. You’re too stiff when you move.”

Cosette took a deep breath, listening to the sounds of the birds and rustling of leaves.

Imagine you’re walking to your favorite coffee shop.

She exhaled, walking once more. 

“Much better.” Ophelia smiled, “You look like you’re in your element now.”

Cosette kept walking, a small bounce appearing in her step.

“You need to act more entitled.”

“Pardon?”

“Entitled.” Ophelia repeated, “You need to show everyone that you have something you want and aren’t afraid to get it. I can’t see that in your walk right now. Sure, it has confidence, but it doesn’t scream fae entitlement. It doesn’t scream control.”

“The person you’re describing just sounds like an asshole. Besides, I have standards for how I get things done.”

Unless I am really desperate. Then survival is prioritized.

Ophelia laughed, “Well…faes are notorious for being jackasses, although that’s not my point. What’s most important is conveying the idea that you are in control of yourself. Don’t be a spoiled prick, obviously. You simply need to have confidence that is ‘otherworldly’, as you humans would say. Also, you’re slouching again.”

“Otherworldly...” Cosette muttered, straightening her back, “You sure you were a servant and not a teacher? You’re really good at nagging.”

“I am sorry, who asked to teach whom?” Ophelia raised an eyebrow.

Cosette shut her mouth, not wanting to piss off her only access to fae knowledge.

Ophelia seemed to sense her pause, laughing at her expression, “No need to look like that Cosette.”

“Like what?”

“As If I’ll turn around and leave.” Ophelia’s brown eyes met Ophelia’s green ones, “Because I am not planning on it.”

Cosette and Ophelia had stopped at one of the many towns they encountered during their hike. Even though the road went through the forest, it also crossed many rural villages and farms.

“Wow, they have farms in Winter Court?”

Ophelia nodded, adjusting her boots while they took a break, “Some species of plants can survive on the outskirts deep under the snow. Farmers grow them out here and then import into the central cities where it’s too cold to grow food.”

“Interesting.” Cosette handed Ophelia some dried turkey that she had brought from one of the inns they stayed at. Cosette was now responsible for their food bag as Ophelia nearly got sick from overeating on a previous day, her body unable to handle the mass of food after years of neglect.

“How do they get the plants out of the ground?”

“My partner mentioned that they dug it out using some custom that had been passed down for generations.” Ophelia bit into the turkey slowly.

Cosette approached a farm that was close to the road, its entire field covered in snow. A man was walking along it, crouching down every now and then to check something. Looking up he noticed Cosette, his expression turning cold instantly. 

Ah, the iconic Winter fae’s welcoming scowl.

“Hello!” Cosette waved.

The man hesitantly approached, crossing his arms, “The nearest inn is down the road.”

Damn, straight to the point.

“I had a question about the farm.”

“What?” 

“How do you grow the plants when they’re so deep underground, and how do you get the plants out once they’re fully grown? Since they’re buried deep under snow, do you use any tools? How do you know when they’re ready for harvest?” Cosette rambled, the man staring at her in slight surprise.

“We use ancient techniques passed down from our predecessors, traveler.” The man’s expression remained unchanged, but his voice didn’t sound mean, rather it was more hesitant, “The plants are native to this land, we only help them grow by sometimes making additional holes in the snow to give them access to sunlight.” he gestured to the small holes in the snow, “That’s also how we check to see if they’re ready.”

“I see.”

“As for the process of extraction, we offer a small treat to the spirits that helped the plant grow and then dig it up.”

Okay straightforward-wait, spirits?

Cosette nodded along, deciding not to question him.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to use something to pull the plant out?”

“Hmm…some people try to use nets but those result in less fruitful harvests.”

“Why?”

“The net makes it harder for the spirits to get access to the fruit or plant. They also get stuck trying to leave at times.”

“Interesting…”

“Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Do you ever stop asking questions?” his annoyed tone returned once more, but seeing Cosette’s curiosity the man sighed, “Checking how many of the plants are still viable for harvest.”

“Viable for harvest?”

“If any predators ate the plants or anything of the sort.” he clarified.

“Ah I see.” she nodded, waving goodbye as the man went back to looking at the little holes in the ground. Cosette walked back to Ophelia who had finished eating and was waiting for her.

“Did you berate the man enough?” 

Cosette rolled her eyes, “Ha, ha, I just asked him a couple questions. By the way, he mentioned spirits? Do spirits help plants grow?”

Ophelia looked at her, “Sometimes I feel like you crawled out from under a rock.”

It’s not my fault I didn’t read the books in detail! Though I for the life of me cannot remember spirits besides for the Starfall event.

Seeing Cosette’s perplexed expression Ophelia sighed and began explaining, “Spirits are responsible for various aspects of the natural world, contributing to it when they can. He was probably referring to the spirits that help pollinate plants.”

“Aren’t those just bees?”

“They’re more than bees, they help spread necessary nutrients and use their power to ensure a good harvest.” Ophelia shook her head at Cosette’s ignorance, “Seriously…we’re gonna need to get you some basic history books at this rate.”

“That would probably be ideal.”

“Good, your walking has improved.”

“Yay!” Cosette cheered. She and Ophelia had resumed their journey to the Capital, the farming fields disappearing as a forest replaced their surroundings once more.

“Now onto your manner of speech.” 

“Oh no!” Cosette jokingly cried out, maintaining her posture, making sure to keep even spacing between her steps. 

These heels were going to be the death of me.

Cosette cried internally. Last night Ophelia had her soak her feet in hot water to help the calluses, putting some padding into the boots to keep her from hurting her feet further. Cosette eyed Ophelia’s shoes enviously.

Sadistic fae woman…making me walk in high heeled boots.

Cosette, however, couldn't stay mad at Ophelia, as she was currently the only person on her side. So really, Cosette couldn’t complain.

“‘Oh no’ indeed. You’re very casual when you speak, I honestly cannot wrap my head around how you survived the nobility of Autumn Court.”

Cosette’s expression fell slightly, replaced by a neutral mask, “I am smart enough to keep my mouth shut if I don’t have anything better to say.” her voice came out sharper than intended.

They like their prey to put up a fight before they fully kill it.

Ophelia laughed, the sound strained, “Well, that is half of the task is it not?” 

Cosette nodded, her body relaxing a bit. 

“Ahem, when talking with regular civilians you can speak normally, although it’s good to use terms such as sir or ma’am for elders or people in a respectable position, such as an innkeeper.”

“Basically, use those honorifics towards people I want to suck up to.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Ophelia laughed, “When speaking to nobility you already know the gist, use terms such as ‘Your Highness’ towards heirs, or ‘High Lord’ towards the ruler. ‘Sir’ or ‘my lord’ are also acceptable depending on if the person you’re talking to requests them.”

“Or ‘High Lady’.” Cosette added on.

“Haha, yes. Or ‘High Lady’” Ophelia’s tone turned strange.

Was that a hint of condescension?

Cosette looked at Ophelia, “Do you not like Feyre?”

“It’s hard to like someone who has caused so much destruction.”

“Didn’t she save all of Prythian? I thought she was beloved by the people”

“It’s…complicated.” Ophelia sighed, “And how did you even get the idea that she was beloved? She is not exactly popular in Autumn Court.”

“Oh well, I just heard things, you know?” Cosette answered vaguely.

“Uh huh, right.” Ophelia shook her head, “To be honest, most faes don’t have much reason to like her at the moment.”

“She defeated Amaranthe.” Cosette’s curiosity only grew by the minute. The ACOTAR book series was written from a first-person perspective, which made the whole thing extremely biased. When she read the first book and other chunks of the series, she had thought certain reactions were overplayed or left unexplored, but hearing a regular person within this world share their opinions was intriguing.

“Yeah, and what has she done since then? She pretty much obliterated Spring Court which had consequences; refugees flooded other Courts, not to mention the economic crisis. Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful Amaranthe got overthrown. Woo hoo! Down with the queen and all, but things aren’t actually all that great.”

Wow, okay. Didn’t expect that response, though it’s partially true.

“Well, it’s not like Tamlin played no part. Also, isn’t an economic crisis to be expected? It takes time to rebuild.” Cosette couldn’t believe she was defending Feyre of all people. She was never a hater, but she wasn’t exactly the character’s biggest fan either.

“Oh, I am not defending him. However, at least he suffers due to his own actions. According to the guards in the dungeon he is living out the rest of his miserable life in a forsaken Court all alone.” she sighed, “Yeah sure it takes time to rebuild, but how much time will pass before things get better?”

“When the people in charge see the problem with their own eyes.” Cosette answered flatly.

Ophelia nodded in agreement, “You worked in the palace, did the food or anything seem bad or of low quality?”

Cosette shook her head.

“So, until things get so bad that the ruling parties start to suffer, nothing will change.” Ophelia kicked a stone, “Yet, the common folk, Lesser Fae in particular will have to suffer and starve. Did you notice anything about the foods we packed with us that were provided by the inns?”

Cosette thought back to the breakfast Ophelia chowed down on earlier: dried meats, stale greens, dried fruits.

“It’s all mostly dried foods.”

“Yeah, that’s not just because those are easier to travel with, those are easier to preserve. With Spring Court, one of the biggest producers of food, out of the picture the other Courts have taken a hit. No matter how wealthy they might be, eventually their economies will crumble unless they come up with a solution or make peace with Spring.” Ophelia raged.

“Feyre used to be human though.” Cosette was determined to see the positive in this bleak situation, “There is no way she would just sit by and watch all this happen without doing anything. She’s experienced suffering, she knows what it’s like to go hungry.”

The woman literally had to hunt to provide for her family.

Ophelia laughed coldly, “Right, you’d think that would have developed empathy within her, but I am pretty certain that character trait died once she became a fae. Night Court is on the other side of the damn continent; they don’t have to deal with these problems despite being actively involved in them. Feyre is probably living out her life in a palace, not even aware of half of the problems Courts in the South are dealing with.” she leaned into Cosette’s ear, despite them being all alone, “I heard the guards talking about it, apparently Night Court troops had been spotted along Spring Court borders. I wouldn’t be surprised if the inner circle decided to take action on their own and reestablish farms and trade.”

Cosette cringed. Even if the action made political sense, the idea left a bad taste in her mouth. It just seemed petty. No, not even petty, it was more malicious.

“That…sounds icky.”

“It is.” Ophelia nodded in agreement, “So, forgive me for not adoring a woman who completely abandoned all her ideals and became a trophy wife.”

Okay wow, I wasn’t a Feysand stan but like that’s just rude.

“Isn’t that harsh? She’s more than a trophy wife.” Cosette’s tone was reproachful. 

“I’ll call her a queen when she does something besides fight or twirl around ballrooms. Rhysand makes half of her decisions for her anyways.”

Cosette frowned. Even if some of the things Ophelia said were true, this woman had spent a lot of time imprisoned. A lot of what she was saying was not coming from a place of educated knowledge, but a desire to blame someone.

Sounds like Feyre is being partially used as a scapegoat.

“Then why does no one speak up?”

“Ha! You try telling her mate these things, he'd flatten you in a heartbeat.”

“Why…isn’t a High Lord lashing out at a Lesser Fae looked down on?”

Ophelia looked at her as if she was an idiot.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Cosette frowned.

“Lesser Faes are viewed as dispensable, there is no reason for anyone to care.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean that if a Lesser Fae speaks out against a High Lord and he lashes out, how is that not viewed as their fault for a lack of self-control? How are they not looked down at for choosing a weaker opponent?” Cosette clarified.

“The High Fae, especially High Lords, have never been known for self-control.”

“But you said Lesser Fae were more animalistic!”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that the High Fae are much better.” Ophelia’s tone was sour, “A Lesser Fae going against a High Fae is an insult to the natural order and therefore a High Fae punishing or putting said fae in their place would be deemed as acceptable. Probably even applauded.”

“That’s…screwed up.”

“It is.”

The two paused their discussion, both deep in thought. The snow crunched beneath Cosette’s boots as Ophelia interrupted the silence.

“You’re slouching again.”

Cosette straightened her back, seizing the opportunity to shift the subject to something less heavy, “Oh, what about palace etiquette?” She had picked up a bit from her time in Autumn Court, but she recognized that what she saw and understood was a very small portion of a larger societal structure.

“I unfortunately don’t know much about that.”

“You worked as the maid to the Lady of Autumn Court though!” Cosette was surprised.

“Okay well, I know a little bit, but it’s pretty much all the stuff I told you now. I don’t know the details of proper etiquette of speaking to a High Fae if you are on semi-equal terms with them.” Ophelia shook her head, “Overall though people tend to follow similar rules, just show respect and you’ll be fine. You won’t have to worry much about this because it’s not likely you’ll get a chance to interact with such people.”

Cosette nodded, not arguing with her local fae expert. 

“What do you want to do once we get to the capital?” Ophelia asked

“Oh, I was planning on finding a job, or opening a business.”

“A business? Good luck with that.” Ophelia smirked, though her tone was not unkind.

“Why do you say that?”

“Businesses are primarily monopolized by the High Faes or regular faes who are affiliated to nobility. It’s very hard to maintain a business otherwise.”

“Wow…I…that’s crazy.” Cosette hadn’t even thought of that aspect of the books in detail, but it was true. It seemed that everything of importance was controlled by the Court’s respective leader. 

A true monarchy.

“Is that not how it is in the human lands?” Ophelia tilted her head gently, adjusting her cloak to better cover herself from the snow that began falling.

“I…well…” Cosette smiled to herself, reminded of Earth, even if in a negative way, “It’s like that where I came from as well, though I would argue we have it a bit better. My village’s system allows for some degree of mobility within social classes.”

“That’s the first time I’ve heard of humans having it better than faes. Your village really is special.”

Cosette smiled sadly, “It is.”

“Look!” Cosette cried out, pointing at the tall, icy fort walls in the distance. The view from the town they were passing through was breathtaking. The capital was visible, small shimmering yellow lights in the distance against the harsh whites and blues created a surprisingly welcome feeling. Even if most of the Winter faes they had met had been cold, the view was definitely worth it. 

Nothing, however, was worth Cosette’s pain. The pads they put into her shoes had helped at the beginning, but her feet still cried in pain, demanding better working conditions.

“Wow…” Ophelia gasped, taken by the sight as well, “It’s gorgeous.”

“And very cold.” Cosette pipped in, quickly beginning to walk again, the chill of the air settling on her 

“You get cold quite easily.”

“Are you not cold?” Cosette tugged the cloak tighter around her body.

“No, not really, the cloak is enough.”

Cosette was salty.

“It’s probably because you’re human, you’re less resistant to the low temperatures.” Ophelia noted, “The central regions of Winter Court are known for their cold. Let’s rest for a bit before we go further.”

Cosette sighed, her human nature once again falling short of fae abilities, following Ophelia to a cafe within the town. 

A man dressed in armor, a dark blue emblem of a wolf on his chest, assisted a group of farmers to unload goods to the side of the main road. Another guard directed traffic. Cosette’s eyes however focused on the swords on their hips.

Ophelia followed her gaze, “What’s up?”

“Who are those people?”

“Royal guard. They’re mostly located in the capital and the surrounding cities to protect civilians and maintain order.”

“What are the laws in Winter Court regarding weapon use?” Cosette cringed recalling the lack of accountability of abuse in Autumn.

“It’s better than Autumn, supposedly.” Ophelia mumbled under her breath as they passed a guard, approaching a cafe, “Regular civilians are permitted to carry weapons such as knives as long as they’re concealed. Large weapons are allowed for hunting, training or in the case of an attack. Only the nobility and the royal guard are permitted to wear swords openly, but they’re not allowed to use them unless the situation is dangerous.”

Cosette nodded. Everything sounded reasonable except for the last part; who got to decide what was deemed as dangerous?

“Okay, how do you know all this? You’re like a walking encyclopedia!”

“Haha, I only know this because my partner’s brother was in the royal guard.” Ophelia spoke softly, “I never got to meet the man himself, but his brother always spoke highly of him.”

Ophelia grabbed some coins out of their bag and purchased sandwiches since their supplies had run low during their trip. Cosette relaxed in a chair, savoring the warmth of the tea Ophelia brought her. She tried to share with the fae but Ophelia insisted she keep it.

After eating they carefully walked down the hill the town was on, sticking to the pathway that led to the entrance of the city.

“Oh, I was thinking about this as we were walking, but what kind of fae am I? Like what is my identity?” Cosette turned to look at Ophelia, “I need a backstory after all. Do you think I could pass as a fae from a particular court?”

Ophelia laughed, “Frankly we should have thought of that question earlier, before your training.” she sighed, “To be honest, I don’t know. I haven’t met many faes from other Courts, it’s not a common occurrence.”  Ophelia smiled gingerly, 

“Really? You all don’t travel on vacation or something?”

“Haha most don’t have the money or resources to travel so freely. Those that do tend to because of their job or due to their high standing in society. So, unfortunately, I can’t tell you if you could pass as a fae from a particular Court. You certainly wouldn’t pass as a fae from Autumn, or Winter. You’re too cheery.”

“Hm, guess I could just say I grew up in some village in a forest.”

“No one will believe that.”

“Well, that’s their problem.”

“No…it’s also your problem when they go to investigate your past.”

“Well, do you have any better ideas?”

“Nope.”

“Random village in a forest it is.”

Ophelia sighed, “At least you can pull off an oblivious country bumpkin with how many questions you ask me.”

Cosette felt insulted.

I’ll have you know I came from a semi big city!

“Will they let us in? Considering that traveling is an uncommon occurrence?” Cosette shivered as they steadily approached the small line before the fort. The walls, a misty blue color towered over them. She glanced at Ophelia, who seemed comfortable in her cloak. 

How was she not freezing?

“Oh!” Cosette’s eyes sparkled for a second, “As a fae from a mysterious village, what would I be called?”

“Miss.”

“What about ‘Lady’?”

“Never ‘Lady’, that title is reserved for the nobility.”

“Oh…” Cosette’s dreams of roleplaying as an important figure were crushed.

Ophelia cackled at her expression, trying to keep quiet to not draw attention from the people around them as they got in line.

“By the way, don’t say you're twenty-one.” Ophelia whispered.

“I am twenty-two now.”

“Wow, a year has passed since we first met.” Ophelia’s eyes grew misty, before she blinked, smiling at the blonde, “Happy Birthday, Cosette.”

Cosette cringed, reminded of her ‘birthday celebration’. 

Ophelia frowned at her reaction but continued as if nothing happened, “Considering your behavior, and lack of knowledge it would be hard to pass you off as someone who is a fully mature adult. It makes sense to keep your age somewhere close to a young adult fae. Let’s say…a hundred? It’s a little on the younger end but regardless of if you were a Lesser Fae or on the more powerful end of the spectrum, you’d still be considered an adult.” Ophelia smirked, “If you want, you’ll be able to find yourself a partner.”

Cosette nodded. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of having a partner.

I am going to leave anyway; they would only be hurt by me.

“Can you explain how fae age?”

Ophelia groaned, wiggling her body, “Anything but that!”

“Why?” Cosette smiled, enjoying Ophelia’s annoyance.

“It’s complicated.”

“Well, I am a smart girl, I can handle it.”

“I am sure you can.” Ophelia ruffled Cosette’s hair, pausing when she felt the small flinch from the younger woman. 

“It’s just really convoluted. I’ll explain it another time, okay?” Ophelia was partially lying. 

“Alright…but can’t I be fifty or something?”

“No, I am already being generous with the hundred. Unless you're planning on lying about being a High Fae, which I do not recommend, one hundred is considered of legal age for most Lesser Fae.”

Cosette sighed, “I can’t believe I am saying goodbye to my youth.”

Ophelia looked at her, exasperated, “You do realize I am one hundred and seventy?”

Cosette’s mouth dropped, “Wow, hello granny.”

Ophelia playfully smacked Cosette’s arm.

The two halted their whispers as they got closer to the guards. They waited for their turn, listening to the guards berating the people ahead of them.

“What is your reason for visiting?”

“My family.”

“Length of stay?”

“A week.”

“Are they always this critical?” Cosette whispered to Ophelia.

“I don’t know as I haven’t traveled much.” Ophelia reiterated, “But I would assume it’s worse now due to the recent war with Hybern.”

This was giving border checks during international flights.

“Let me handle the talking, okay?” Ophelia whispered to Cosette.

“Sure, but why?” Cosette was itching to test her newly studied behavior on a proper audience.

“This is too important to screw up, and I understand fae better than you.”

Despite wanting to test her capabilities Cosette knew Ophelia was right. It was too important for them to get inside the city, they couldn’t afford silly mistakes. She could practice later.

“No offense Cosette.” Ophelia winked at her.

“None taken.”

The group ahead of them moved into the city, leaving Ophelia and Cosette face to face with the guards.

“Purpose of visit?” a fae with white hair asked.

“We’re moving here from the outskirts.” Ophelia spoke.

“Moving here?” the guard perked up, his eyes narrowing, “Why?”

“Because it’s better here than out there.” Ophelia joked with ease.

The guard chuckled at her honesty, “Well, you don’t look like a person we should be letting in.”

“Why is that?” 

“We don’t need any more Lesser Fae waltzing around the streets.” he snickered.

Ophelia bristled, “We come to work, not dilly dally and waste money.”

“That’s what they all say.” the guard glared.

Ophelia glared back. 

He sighed, “Do you even have some money to your name?”

“Yes, we do.”

“How much?”

Ophelia paused - she didn’t know as Cosette was the one who carried the money.

“Ha! So stupid you don’t even know how much money you have with you?” he mocked, “I forget they don’t teach you folks math.”

“Look, we’re not here to cause trouble.” Ophelia tried to placate him, but that was the wrong move.

The man smirked, sensing a sore spot, “You barely have powers worth mentioning, what good could you even contribute to the Winter Court?”

Has this man ever met a Bogge? What is with the disrespect towards Lesser Faes??

Ophelia growled, her hands balling into fists, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, do I not?” the man taunted.

Cosette glanced at Ophelia.

She’s struggling because she let him get under her skin.

Ophelia had gone on the defensive - the last thing one should do in this situation. Not that it was easy to remain calm in such circumstances. Cosette looked around the area, a fairly large line had formed behind them due to the hold up. Ahead of them were several other guards standing next to the icy wall talking to a black-haired man in armor, the emblem on his chest silver rather than blue.

Interesting.

“Say, if you have no money, I have an idea for how else you could contribute.” he leaned into Ophelia’s personal space, running a hand through her hair, “If you’re good for me maybe I’ll let you in.”

Okay, that’s it.

“We have none.” Cosette suddenly spoke up, putting herself between the fae and Ophelia, praying her half-baked plan worked.

“None?” the guard laughed, “I thought you said you had mon-”

“None of your business. That’s how much we have.” Cosette cut him off, 

Ophelia stared at her, slightly horrified, tugging at her arm. “Cosette, what are you doing?”

Playing by the rules.

“Excuse me?” the man looked at Cosette, “Who do you think you are?”

“A civilian trying to get to my new home.”

“Ha! Your new home.” the man laughed, “Creatures like you sleep in the forest. Go back to your moss.” He tried leaning in, but quickly covered his face.

Cosette at the moment was a walking stink bomb - partially because neither she or Ophelia had washed properly over the course of the last few days, but also because she had been going out of her way to mask her human scent. Cue the literal dirt baths.

“Holy shit, have you ever thought of washing yourself?” he snarled, “I didn’t realize education was so bad amongst Lesser Fae you hadn’t heard of bathing.” he jeered.

What would piss off an egotistical, narcissistic bastard?

“And I didn’t realize that the Winter Court’s guards were this weak.” she smiled kindly, raising her voice.

“Excuse me?” the man growled.

Oh great, another dog.

Ophelia tugged on her arm, “Cosette, please…This isn’t worth it”

Cosette gently squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“You heard me. Why do you feel the need to berate us this harshly if we ‘barely have powers worth mentioning’ and no money to our name?” she tilted her head, “Your description makes us sound unthreatening.”

The man’s face turned red, “I-That’s not what this is. We don’t just let anyone into the Capital. As far as I can see you’re bad news.” trying to regain the upper hand he continued, raising his voice as well, “Lesser Fae are always just liabilities. Pathetic and weak”

The group behind Ophelia exchanged uncomfortable glances

“Then you should get your eyes checked.” Cosette remained calm, which only served to piss the guard off more. She glanced at the group of soldiers ahead of them, seeing them looking in their direction.

Good.

“You bitch!” The guard looked like he was about to explode. The veins on his neck bulged. 

“Ah, and the name calling. Really professional.” Cosette commented sarcastically.

“Cosette!” Ophelia cried out, pulling her friend back as the guard drew his sword. 

“Oh so now you’re scared?” he sneered.

“What’s going on here?” a deeper voice interrupted, the black-haired man Cosette saw earlier approached.

“C-Captain.” the guard stuttered, quickly composing himself, “These two ladies are insulting the royal guard and threatening public safety!”

“We did no such thing!” Ophelia was infuriated. 

“You called us weak!”

The captain of the guard watched the scene before him, a disappointed expression replacing his neutral one, “Stand down officer.”

“But sir-”

“Stand. Down.”

Cosette trembled, the energy around them growing heavy and oppressive.

Did the snow stop falling?

Ophelia pulled Cosette close. This felt just like when Eris sent a course of magic through her.

The white haired fae quickly sheathed his sword.

Cosette felt like she could breathe again.

“Captain, they can’t be permitted to say such things about us!”

“You just proved her claim by getting upset over such a minor comment.” 

“But sir, it doesn’t look good to let a bunch of Lesser Fae walk all over us.” the blonde fae hissed.

A flash of rage passed over the captain’s face as he looked at his subordinate.

“Officer, what doesn’t look good is you being provoked into drawing your sword in a public space for no good reason.” 

“Yeah, so? We’re at a checkpoint, we can use violence if nece-”

“If necessary.” the black-haired man cut him off, “These two women haven’t done anything. Usage of threats is not permitted to ensure safety along the border.”

“They won’t contribute anything to the Court!”

“I am sure they will contribute plenty since they actually understand our laws, unlike some.” the captain glowered, “You are dismissed officer. I want you on cleaning duty until ordered otherwise.”

The white haired fae stormed away, as the captain turned to face Cosette.

“I apologize for his behavior.”

“I am disappointed in the lack of restraint from your soldiers.” her voice was shaky as she separated from Ophelia, standing by herself.

“I have nothing to say, my officer’s behavior was unacceptable, and he will be punished accordingly.” 

“It’s fine.” Cosette shook her head, Ophelia held her hand supportingly. Cosette straightened her back, looking the main guard in the eyes. 

This wasn’t over.

“However, I would like to file a complaint.”

The man raised an eyebrow, “Go ahead.”

“Your officer, apart from being unprofessional, also tried to ask for sexual favors with my friend here.”

The man’s eyes widened, “What?”

Ophelia looked at Cosette, a strange expression on her face.

“You heard me. He attempted to proposition us.”

“I-Oh Gods.” the man muttered, “Thank you for telling me this, I will make sure he receives proper punishment.”

“I want proof.”

“Hm?”

“Proof that he will have faced consequences for his actions.”

The man nodded understandingly, “Of course, I can arrange for that. Do you know where you are staying in the city?”

“We will be staying at an inn, though we haven’t decided which yet.”

“Alright.” the man waved over a fellow soldier who quickly brought a piece of paper and pen for him. He quickly wrote something, and signed at the bottom, handing it over to Cosette, “You’re welcome to come by the training grounds, they’re adjacent to the palace. We’ll be able to fulfill your wish there, just show them this and they will let you in.”

“How long will his punishment last?”

“Until the end of the winter solstice, so you can come down until then.”

“Alright, thank you sir.” Cosette nodded respectfully.

“I recommend the Forrest inn. The man who runs it is a good guy, and the place is affordable.”

“Thank you for the advice.” Cosette paused, glancing at him, “May I ask you your name captain?”

The fae’s lips tensed as he kept himself from smiling.

“The name is Aquilo, miss.” he said, stepping to the side, giving Ophelia and Cosette space to pass, “Welcome to Winter Court, may your stay be enjoyable.”

Next: Chapter 14 - Petty Coins

Back: Chapter 12 - The Day Fern Died

Masterlist

Tag list: @rcarbo1

[starsreminisce]

i was revisiting some os lucien's lines and at the end of acotar seems like rhysand grew fond of him, did u get the same feeling or am i going mad?

If you're going mad, nonnie, then so am I because I really don't believe in the Rhys slander that he hates Lucien. I feel that Rhys is disappointed with Lucien in ACOMAF because Rhys saw how Lucien stood up to him and Amarantha for Feyre but not towards Tamlin, even though we know more about Lucien's situation with Tamlin and how it's more complicated than that.

Rhys carries big grudges towards those who didn't do the right thing with Feyre and had a huge problem with Nesta for not stepping up as the eldest child, perceiving her as someone who should have taken more responsibility.

“I knew things were bad,” Rhysand said with quiet rage, barely audible over the freezing bite of the wind and rain, “but I thought Lucien, at least, would have stepped in.” “I thought so, too,” I said, my voice smaller than I intended.

ACOSAF shows Rhys's thought process regarding Lucien's loyalty to Tamlin, who he once saw as a kindred spirit before being betrayed. Rhys's biggest hangup was how he felt Lucien should have done more to help Feyre, but after visiting Tamlin, he realized that Lucien had done what he could. Rhys knew Tamlin's anger would be his downfall and how his visit would trigger that.

He didn't realize that Lucien would have been the outlet for that anger until Lucien brought it up to Feyre, for which Rhys apologized. While it wasn't explicitly spelled out, Rhys went from not wanting to forgive Lucien to realizing the aftermath of Feyre and Lucien leaving and how Lucien was in that environment, to witnessing Tamlin lashing out at Lucien for something Rhys did. Lucien reminded them of their positions, showing they couldn't afford to ignore Tamlin's position either.

Quotes under the cut.

ACOSF presents challenges, Lucien appears to be following the same directives, yet Rhys and Lucien have been having private meetings concerning Tamlin and the Spring Court. Even Azriel acknowledges that Lucien is the most suitable person to stabilize the Spring Court. Perhaps Rhys and Lucien's conversations extend beyond these matters, leading Mor to express doubts about fully trusting Lucien's perspectives on humans.

This could be due to Lucien's stance on the power dynamics between High Fae and lesser beings, which he might challenge Rhys on during their discussions.

Rhys and Feyre also invited Lucien to see Nesta's training and extended an invitation for him to join in the more intimate Solstice gathering and Starfall. They keep Lucien around when it would be easier to write him off, especially if SJM wasn't planning an Elucien endgame.

A lot of SJM's choices lean towards Rhys and Cassian being accepting of their future brother-in-law, and Lucien moving past his preconceptions to interact more authentically with them.

Also, this line just gave me chills about Lucien and Rhys battling together, given what we know about Lucien being the heir.

If Rhys was a flying terror crafted from shadows and cold moonlight, Helion was his daytime equivalent. Gold feathers and shredding claws and feathered wings— Together, my mate and the High Lord of Day unleashed themselves upon Hybern.

But, yes, it's harder to fully understand without being in their perspective, but I do believe Rhys and Lucien get along much better than people give them credit for. We'll learn more about how Lucien's friendship with Feyre and Rhys evolved when it's time for his book.

Thank you for asking!

ACOSAF Chapter 5

Rhys said at last, “I can stomach being around him.” “I’m sure he’d love to hear that thrilling endorsement.” A half smile that had me walking toward him, stopping between his legs. He braced his hands idly on my hips. “I can let go of the taunts,” he said, scanning my face. “And the fact that he still harbors some hope of one day reuniting with Tamlin. But I cannot let go of how he treated you after Under the Mountain.” “I can. I’ve forgiven him for that.” “Well, you’ll forgive me if I can’t.” Icy rage darkened the stars in those violet eyes.

ACOSAF Chapter 11

Though the great oak doors were undeniably worse for wear. Deep, long claw marks had been slashed down them. Standing on the top step of the marble staircase that led to those front doors, I surveyed the brutal gashes. My money was on Tamlin having inflicted them after Feyre had duped him and his court. But Tamlin’s temper had always been his downfall. Any bad day could have produced the gouge marks. Perhaps today would produce more of them.

Tamlin didn’t speak, didn’t offer any explanations for the vacant house. For the rooms we passed, some of the carved doors cracked open enough for me to behold the destruction inside. Shattered furniture, shredded paintings, cracked walls. Lucien had not come here to make amends during Solstice, I realized as Tamlin opened the door to the dark library. Lucien had come here out of pity. Mercy.

Hunting for dinner—because there were no servants here to make food. Or buy it. I couldn’t say I felt bad for him. Only for Lucien, once again stuck with being his crony.

ACOSAF Chapter 18

I studied the jacket he wore. I’d seen it before. Back in— “Tamlin sent it to our manor yesterday,” Lucien hissed. “My clothes. My belongings. All of it. He had it sent from the Spring Court and dumped on the doorstep.” Bastard. Still a bastard, despite what he’d done for Rhys and me during that last battle. But the blame for that behavior was not on Tamlin’s shoulders alone. I’d created that rift. Ripped it apart with my own two hands. I didn’t quite feel guilty enough to warrant apologizing for it. Not yet. Possibly not ever. “Why?” It was the only question I could think to ask. “Perhaps it had something to do with your mate’s visit the other day.” My spine stiffened. “Rhys didn’t involve you in that.” “He might as well have. Whatever he said or did, Tamlin decided he wishes to remain in solitude.” His russet eye darkened. “Your mate should have known better than to kick a downed male.” “I can’t say I’m particularly sorry that he did.” “You will need Tamlin as an ally before the dust has settled. Tread carefully.” I didn’t want to think about it, consider it, today. Any day. “My business with him is done.” “Yours might be, but Rhys’s isn’t. And you’d do well to remind your mate of that fact.” A pulse down the bond, as if in answer. Everything all right? I let Rhys see and hear all that had been said, the conversation conveyed in the blink of an eye. I’m sorry to have caused him trouble, Rhys said.

ACOSAF Chapter 23

“Your dinner is leaking,” I told him by way of greeting, nodding toward the mess gathering on the floor. No reply. The High Lord of Spring didn’t so much as look up at me. Your mate should have known better than to kick a downed male. Lucien’s words to Feyre yesterday had lingered. Perhaps it was why I’d left Feyre to explore the new paints Azriel had given her and winnowed here.

[vnfadinglight]

I still don't have an Ao3 account so couldn't post it there. It's a prologue to my Eris-centric fic with a dash of calling out IC on their bulshit. It will go either Azris or Neris direction but not until much, much later.

I also hope to find a better title!

Monsters are Made

Prologue

He felt as if something was trying to crush his chest under an enormous boulder, his breathing heavy and laboured. He noted hard rock underneath his fingertips, smell of wet stone and minerals mixing with saltiness of his own sweat and faint timbre of familiar voices.

He was home.

Groan of pain escaped his already parted lips when he tried to move into a more comfortable position, alerting whoever was here with him. He heard footsteps, felt subtle shifts in the air and smelled people approaching him.

“Tyche”

He recognised the smell of bonfire and some spices that were foreign to him. The voice that spoke to him was steady but pretentious, with its overly enunciated consonants and slight lilt to it.

“Traveler”, he rasped.

Man was an outsider to both Hewn City and the Night Court but visited often enough to earn trust among the members of the Court of Lunatics. Although Tyche suspected that it had something to do with all the sweets and food that accompanied his visits.

“What happened?” Tyche asked, his voice weak and then he shivered suddenly.

“That is my question.” Another voice, this time like priceless crystals shattering on a marble floor. Echo with her faint scent of blooming lilac. He could feel travelers hands on him, assessing the injuries. “Meili and Ve found you all bloodied and unconscious near Barrenwort caves.”

“Wounds are infected,” Traveller said before Tyche had a chance to respond. “Do you have some medicine?”

“Medicine? We barely have food!” Echo sputtered but he could hear her getting up from the floor near his blankets and rummaging through their crates.

He took a well deserved break from this conversation and tried to gather his strength. Traveler kept touching his forehead.

“Darkbringers” he explained. “They… caught me fishing.”

“Doesn’t sound very illegal,” Traveller noted with some undertone to his voice that Tyche couldn’t really place.

“In steward’s private lake”

“Why on Cauldron would you go fishing in steward’s lake?!” Echo was exasperated. “It’s too risky!”

“It’s not like I could see the sign!” he barked struggling to sit up, but Traveler promptly pinned his shoulders to the rocky floor. He had no strength to fight or even attempt an objection.

“I will bring a healer” the man said, getting up, but both Echo and him started to protest.

“You can’t bring anyone here!”

“You promised to keep a secret!”

“If they find us, they will bring us back to the mines!”

It was the unfortunate life of most lesser fae kids in Hewn City, especially those like them - orphaned or abandoned, without adults to support them. Most of their peers were forced to work in mines alongside adults, exploring tight cracks in rock where adults couldn’t squeeze, hacking away at stone with pickaxes, collecting ore and jewels that were lining pockets of both steward of the Hewn City and current High Lord.

House of Pebbles was, ironically, in an old shaft, abandoned due to an instability. Their main entry consisted of a collapsed ceiling. You needed to know that something really is behind all the rubble and know how to navigate it to make it through. And inside, Court of Lunatics, was giving in to delusions of grand escape, of seeing a glimpse of the night sky and creatures that live in it and real trees. Tyche would feel the song of wind again.

“I will get some medicine,” Traveler said. “Don’t do…”

“She knows you’re looking for her,” he interrupted suddenly. “She dares you to find her.”

There was a weird feeling of warmth, something scaly and smelling of smoke. It came over him quickly but disappeared as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He didn’t understand them, unable to use his powers to divine the context but it was unnecessary. The message was for Traveler.

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Ragnarok

⚔️ All Previous Parts Here ⚔️

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: future ABO, mpreg, PAY ATTENTION TO THESE! THIS CHAPTER IS ROUGH! BIG BAD/BIG SAD™️, Viking Col, fae Dom, threats, talks of murder, war, threats of death, violence, intense violence, some threats of sexual violence (against Dom), explanations of sexual violence (past tense about Col's mom), questioning if sexual violence happened (Dom), cutting, slashing, stabbing, bleeding, lots of blood, wondering if someone is alive, violence against Col, Col beaten and bloody, more slashing, description of throat ripping, body shifting, magic, not knowing if someone is alive, worrying over fetal death, pain and suffering, hurt/comfort ish (just wait), surprise ending, fear, PTSD, boys in love ☠️ rating: EXPLICIT ☠️ ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

The chieftain tried to sneak up to the meeting place he was expected at but he was sure they already knew of his arrival. He'd attempted to stay close to the trees and keep his steed quiet but he swore his rage was a beacon around him, heralding his return. There was a knot in his stomach from so much anger and fear- he was tired of being stepped on and treated as lesser and the enemy taking his family was the last fucking straw. He was looking for more than just Harald- he hoped he'd find both him and his uncle together since he was sure they'd been working as one, at least that's what Inga had led him to understand.

☠️⚔️☠️

The Viking was gathering his weapons for the meeting ahead when his aunt found him. She was fretting more than he was used to seeing her, she was always his port in the storm but something was truly bothering her. "Feilan, I beg a moment of your time. I know you're busy but it's… it's life and death I think." She rushed to say and he paused after placing a sword on his back. He stepped closer to her, his hand going to her shoulder to hopefully give her a little peace but she was a wreck and truthfully so was he. They were probably feeding off each other.

"What is it? Dom needs me." He knew it was more than just his thrall but he was having trouble facing the truth. First he had to find his boy alive and then he could deal with the extra passenger. Gods- he didn't know how to be a father. His own was dead long before he was gone and his uncle was... Shit would be too kind.

"That's just it. I believe it was Bjørn who wished to keep your thrall." She whispered and his heart sank. No. It couldn't be true. His uncle was a bastard sure but he was kin. Sure he'd tried to assault- Kol'son couldn't even finish the thought without growling, so many thoughts were racing through his mind. He'd always put that off to the man just being narcissistic and seeing the boy as lesser but he couldn't see it that way anymore. Pieces of a puzzle were trying to fall in place. "I believe- Odin help us- I believe my brother made arrangements to take the throne himself." Inga sniffled, tears welling her angry blue eyes. "I'm starting to wonder if he hasn't been fighting for it since he was a boy. Kol I think… I think he killed our family."

The man couldn't breathe, all the blood seemed to freeze in his veins. He'd been burning hot with rage as long as he could remember- a constant fire burning in his belly that smelted him into the Viking warrior he was but he'd never gone so cold with it. So much in his life felt like a lie. He was in his twenty third year of life but for the first time he knew he was finally seeing clearly. "Do you think he killed our men? You truly believe he's been orchestrating this for so long?" He was almost begging her to say she was joking, it would be a terrible joke but anything was better than finding out the man he loved almost as a second father had hated him so long. Had slaughtered his own kin.

"The girls have been trying to get more information but we could find no proof. I was going to wait until I had something but I can't wait. It isn't just Harald, it's him. I believe this was all his will. He wants your place as he did your father's. He's probably with him now, I doubt the agreement holds any truth, I fear they plan your death no matter what you agree to." She cried softly but stood tall and strong. Kol may have seen Bjørn as his role model but Inga was the one who raised him. She was who taught him to be who he became. "If you go I fear your death." She pushed again and grabbed for his hand but he shook her off and turned back to his horse.

"Inga I love you more than I can say but they have Dom. Whether I die today or not I'm not-" His voice broke, his throat trying to close around the words he feared almost more than death. "I'm not letting them hurt him or my child. If he wishes for my death he'll kill them as well just to destroy my line. I'm sorry, but I have to." Even when she called out to him again he shook his head. There was no way to stop him. He had to rescue his family.

☠️⚔️☠️

There were too many warriors for his comfort but any strong fighters when he had so few was far too much. He could see Harald on his throne in his great hall but there were so many people around. He had wondered why they went back to their own land but as he watched the bastard drink his fill as if he were already celebrating he knew the truth. They didn't want Kol's clan around to watch him be put to death, they'd already decided to kill him and if they did it on their ground then they could lie to his people. Bjørn could lie to them all. Again. There was never a bargain for him, there was no submission or die- they planned for him to perish that day- alone and broken, and his bastard uncle would step up in his place.

He prayed to gods he was having trouble believing in as he centered himself and stood tall. He couldn't see Dom or Bjørn for that matter but he was sure they were somewhere. Probably hidden away to be one more surprise knife in his back before they murdered him. He had been thinking he'd be dead without Dom but now that it seemed he might genuinely die he was almost at peace- as long as he made sure his family lived on.

He stalked into the room, his footsteps heavy and his anger so hot and cold he was positive it touched everyone he walked past. His fist gripped tight around the hilt of his blade and the roar around him fell silent as he jumped onto the table and pointed his sword at Harald's throat. "Where is my thrall?" He demanded, his voice booming and echoing off the walls in the quiet. Of course his enemy just arched a brow and leaned back, but he could see the fear around the edges. "What did you do with him? And where the fuck is my uncle? Bjørn! Get your ass out here. I'll take you both at once!"

"I see you've learned a few things but you are still so wrong, boy. I don't have your thrall or your uncle. I know not what you speak of." The other Viking sighed. For just a moment Kol let his gaze flick to the bitch he had almost married just to save his clan and the children he assumed were her siblings that were lined up next to her at the table. Gods he didn't want them mortified and cursed for life by seeing their father's blood spilt. Megna he didn't care for, but some of them were so young. "I swear Kol'son, perhaps I lied about much but I have no reason to lie now. Your death was not planned by me, Bjørn only offered me my revenge. If I helped him kill you he would pay me a tithe for years to come and he would take my daughter's hand- making both lands mine."

Kol didn't know what to believe or not so instead of speaking he pressed the blade tighter to the man's throat and tried to calm his rage enough to deal with the present problem. Harald must have seen something in his eyes because the jerk smiled and arched a brow. "Didn't you know? He's why you're an orphan. An only child. He's who slaughtered your men this week. He wanted to break you down for all you and your father stole from him. First your mother and sibling, then your father, now you. Either way I had my revenge as well. I didn't care how I got it but even I have to admit he's a dark fellow. Honestly you were for so long blessed by the gods boy- someone was always watching but your family was not so lucky. And… I worry perhaps your thrall has not been either." The last almost sounded true, as if he were so disgusted by truths he knew to have happened that he could only imagine what might have befallen Dom. It made Kol ill.

The Viking felt cold, every inch of his body broke out in a sick sweat, and his body trembled as his stomach soured. "You're saying he- he what? Took my brother from my mother's womb? Why are you telling me this?" He shouted, pushing the blade until it nicked the man's skin. He was so close to breaking but he needed the whole truth and he needed to bide time. Make sure the whole village was searched.

"So innocent. I'd heard stories about you and I had assumed you would be… quicker than that. Perhaps even darker as your uncle is. No, he didn't tear a child from her womb. He wanted- as I did- what he felt was stolen from him so he took it. Filled with rage and jealousy he took her- from what I've heard. With body and weapon until she was no longer as perfect as she once was. Even I shudder at the thought. Åse was lovely." Kol almost swung at that very moment but he knew he had to wait. It was destroying him not to see blood shed for blood. "I tell you not to torture you boy, although that is a bonus. I tell you the truth so you may face your gods honestly. I intend to send you to them today. You should not have come alone but all has been stolen from you hasn't it?"

"Hmm, not quite!" Kol'son heard a new voice behind him and a dark angry smile curled his lips. New footsteps filed in, almost thundering behind him, and he savored the look of apprehension turned fear on the man's face. One of the fae stepped up behind the chieftain and hopped on the table next to him- holding a sword so surely no one could tell he wasn't used to it.

"Harald, meet my fellow chieftain and prince of the forest- you know Modig don't you? The army behind us? Almost all fae. This would be the part where you grovel." The room froze, it felt as if the universe were holding it's breath and waiting for the human's answer before all Hell broke loose and all Kol'son could think was that he hoped to see his love again. Soon.

☠️⚔️☠️

Dom came to slowly. He tried to keep himself as relaxed as possible because his instincts knew he was in danger. If he woke carefully he could take in his surroundings and hopefully get a handle on everything. He kept his dark rimmed eyes shut tight because he knew they would reflect any light in the room and he was quite sure there was a fire near. He could hear a noise like a knife against stone and bile rose in his throat. The Bastard was still with him and possibly sharpening a weapon? Fuck. He tried to carefully test his body but he could feel restraints around his wrists and ankles- his body was bare, and his thighs spread. He couldn't tell if he'd been used yet, he still felt full from his mate and even when he clenched he wasn't sure. He just prayed the last and only person inside him was Kol'son.

"The pup is awake I see." Shit. He thought he'd been hiding it well but he supposed not if that drunken bear arsehole could tell. He didn't dignify him with an answer though and he kept himself playing dead- maybe the man was testing him. "If you'd just stayed a distraction for him I might could have left you alive but no- somehow my kin always beds freaks of fucking nature!" Dom knew in the next moment he should have opened his eyes but he didn't think he'd have been able to stop the backhand slap across his cheek. He might have dodged it enough to hurt less though, he wasn't sure. As it was his cheek split open against his sharp fangs and he choked on a mouthful of blood. The crimson stained his face as the Viking hovered over him with a small sharp blade that he teased in a line down the siren's shivering body.

"Wha'- wha' you mean?" He finally whimpered when the bastard held the knife over his stomach and pressed it hard. He could tell Bjørn had been holding it in the flame when it automatically seared his skin but he swallowed his scream to instead glare at him. He'd fight not to give him the satisfaction. He just didn't know how long they'd already been in there or what all had already been done to his body. He felt like he'd been asleep too long. He just hoped someone would find them soon.

"My whore sister spread her legs for any forest nymph that smiled at her, putting halfling blood in our family line. My fucking brother fell for a-" He paused his rant to spit on the boy's skin and that almost made Dom throw up. "I don't even know. I know she was wrong though, I felt it in her the day she died! I thought you would help me with my fate- distract that stupid boy from wanting to be chief but no! Even you're- you're-"

"Wha'? I'm wha'? You don't fucking know because you can't understand pure magic! You can't force ya way to the top Bjørn! You'll never be as good as Kol! You're jus' fucking jealous of 'im and the love he and ya bruv got. 'Ow dare you take 'er! Even if you kill me-" Whatever he was about to shout was cut off on a scream as Bjørn slashed a shallow cut straight down his stomach. It wasn't deep at all but it burned like hell and there was so much blood. It wouldn't kill him but without help he knew he'd scar.

"Don't you dare try to use that on me boy! Keep your mouth shut!" Dom hadn't tried to use his siren song- he hadn't even thought of it but he did after that. His throat felt raw, his soul not even a little bit in it but he had to save himself and his child. For Kol'son. The man growled, somehow fighting through the first note to wrap a hand around the selkie's neck and keep him quiet. "It doesn't matter anyway. Your master is dead by now. You're all mine little whore. All mine." With that horrid thought and the man's war worn face so close to his own Dom couldn't help but start to give up. The world went dark around him.

The door slammed open behind Bjørn and he turned fast, surprised to find his nephew bruised and bleeding and pissed behind him. "How- where did you- what the fuck? Why aren't you dead?"

Kol'son knew his uncle didn't mean to ask that, it was obviously too truthful and the bear of a man tried to pull himself together as the still true chieftain took in the room. His nostrils flared when a familiar scent filled his nose and so much new rage filled him he shook with it, his knees going weak. He'd fought his way through the other clan- killed Harald and so many others he couldn't count- only to realize Bjørn and Dom were nowhere to be found. The moment the others had laid down their swords and submitted to him he stopped the fight- leaving Modig and Tom in charge of what happened there. He had to find his mate and now he had. "Is he-" He clamped his jaw shut, he couldn't ask and he wouldn't trust the man's answer anyway but what scared him most was the crimson covering Dom's stomach. If this bastard killed his child-

"Nephew? Feilan?"

"You call me that again and I'll show you a fucking wolf! Shut the fuck up!" His voice was barely above a growl- in fact everything felt graveled and low as if his vocal cords had been ripped to shreds. He knew so much of him had been stabbed and cut, he was bleeding all over and most of his ink was in ruins but nothing mattered if Dom was d- if he was g- nothing mattered if.

"Your runes-" The Bastard gasped, literally falling to his knees as if about to pray and that was perfect for the chieftain. Kol walked forward, his sword landing steady on one side of his uncle's neck. It would kill him to shed kin blood but looking around he knew the man had shed so much more. He looked into those blue eyes so much like his own and shook his head. "I love you Kol." He had the balls to whisper.

"And I loved you as a father. But you took my father didn't you? You took them all?" His voice went soft. Small. For just a moment he was a boy of maturity again and Bjørn was cradling him close, telling him his father was gone. The last time they'd stood like this, the last time Bjørn had fallen on his knees was when he returned from battle and knelt to Kol- telling him he was chieftain now. Gods he'd been lying so long. So long.

Bjørn struck out, his upper body lunging to tackle Kol to the ground and just as when he was a boy they wrestled again- but this time it was real. This time it was for their lives. Kol'son felt empty besides a rage that was fighting to get out. Something had shifted inside him during his fight before. Something predatory. With every punch and stab and slash he felt it grow stronger. With every grunt it sounded more like a roar. Finally though his uncle landed above him, his hand wrapped tight around Kol's neck and he held a knife covered in Dom's blood against his chest. "The first son- you were supposed to be so special. All of you were! But every generation I swear you get worse. Look at you- falling for a nymph just like your kin before you! Wolves you are not!" A gash opened across the skin of Kol's chest and his next shout felt more animalistic than them all. He put every ounce of fear and pain and anger into it and screamed to the gods for his fate to change. He just didn't understand they were closer than he ever knew.

Bjørn scrambled off of him, falling on his ass and trying to crawl away as a light emanated from his nephew's wound. The cut glowed bright and brighter until all his blood seemed to shine pink it was so red and it followed through every vein in the Viking's body. The tattoo he'd watched his brother etch into Kol's skin was destroyed which he'd thought would be a good thing but no. "Oh- oh gods-" But whatever and whoever he was about to pray to didn't matter when claws sank into his throat and tore through his flesh.

☠️⚔️☠️

Kol'son blinked slowly, there was so much light around him he could barely see but at the same moment everything felt so clear. He pulled his hand away from the disgusting wet heat it was surrounded by only to see his uncle's lifeless body drop to the ground. His brows furrowed as he turned to wipe his hand on a discarded tunic, too sick at the thought of keeping that Bastard's blood on his skin. It hit him suddenly and all at once, his war was over- but at what cost?

"Dom? Shit! Dom?" His voice was shot and filled with tears as he crawled onto the bed and systematically cut each rope holding his mate. The boy was drenched in blood and limp in his hold but he got him free and pulled him close into his arms, covering his lover with his own fur. He couldn't even think about the fact that his uncle might have taken him- he couldn't smell the man's spend on him though so he tried to take comfort. However he wasn't sure why he thought that was something he could smell. "Wake up boy. I'm taking you back home. Come on. You have to wake up for me." His voice was wet and choked up but he couldn't stop begging those jade eyes to open. All he could do was cradle his prince close and carry him from the hell he'd been in.

The village gathered as he slowly walked home to their hut, he was pretty sure there was still a glow about him but he couldn't focus on anything but making his thrall wake. "No. Not thrall. Prince. Mine. My fucking mate. If you don't wake up I'll-" He knew the clan was hearing him curse the kid but it didn't matter. Everyone was around staring and some were crying but once he reached their home he knew everything would be okay. It had to be. He'd go mad if.

Once inside he laid his boy out so carefully above his fur and he straightened his limbs before finally petting through his hair. He sat on the bed next to him and something reminded him about their first night together when he sat in the same spot nude and waiting to be joined by the beautiful creature with the glowing eyes.

"Kol'son-"

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" His voice didn't sound his own. It was empty and amplified and he didn't care who had tried to talk to him- friend or family no one mattered while his future wife and child weren't here. The person ran off, shutting the door behind them. Even sitting his knees buckled and he slid to the floor, almost melting into a puddle of fear and pain. He'd been so terrified of his babe ever existing but now that they might be gone along with the only person he truly loved? He couldn't live without them. His ear pressed to his thrall's belly, he knew even without threat of death he wouldn't be able to hear anything- they were hours old- but he needed to be close. "Please- please fuck- just… just come back to me? I can't do this… I can't lose anyone else." Kol'son hadn't sobbed since the day he found his mother dead but as he closed his eyes he saw the scenes superimposed over each other. It was as if it were happening all over again. And finally- he let himself break.

"D- did someone say-" A soft voice sounded and the world halted- or at least Kol's world. There was a harsh cough before- "Fenrir?" The Viking ignored the pain and heat that rushed through him at that whispered name and instead he surged up over his boy to press his quivering lips to those plush perfect dark ones.

"You're here? Fuck! You're okay? Dom? Ástin min? Fuck-" His words sped fast as he left kisses all over Dom's blood stained face but he couldn't help it. Everything felt like a dream. "Gods I… I didn't think- I love you!"

Somehow the siren found strength to laugh at his puppy-like mate as the man kissed his face so much it felt like he was licking him. "I love you too. You're okay? Wait- wha' 'appened?"

"Don't ask."

"Daidí- oh wait." The selkie had started to chide his lover before the nickname he'd called him so long hit him and a happy bright smile curled his lips. He could tell something was happening and there was so much he was missing- his master was fucking glowing and he had a name loud in his head but first. "Daidí." He purred, pulling the chieftain close.

"I know." And Kol- with all his fear, smiled back.

Author's Note/Tags: @manicpixiedreamb0y @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @cole-way-iero28 @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

Eeeeep 😬 I'm honestly proud of myself after this one, we're near the end of part one. I worked so hard on this chapter and I really really hope you all like it! I promise smut next. Happy smut. This was a long and intense chapter and we ALL deserve a treat! 🖤☠️

[nikethestatue]

I read one of your responses about SJM's worldbuilding and structure of magic and I agree that it's very messy. What exactly is cardinal magic? How is it different from other magic?

Typically, you have intrinsic/elemental magic and cardinal magic.

So for example, in SJM's world, all High Lords would have their 'special' magic which is specific to them, or to their kind. So with Rhys, it would be the manipulation of night/darkness, with Tarquin, it would be water magic, with Helion, I suppose it would be fire/light, with Kallian, I guess, it would be cold/frost. Beron and Tamlin are unclear and I don't really understand what their elemental magic is.

In other books, we had Aelin with Fire and Rowan with wind.

Furthermore, we assume from what Lucien said and from what we saw during the war, that all HLs have a beast inside of them, that they can unleash.

Rhys also has his daemati powers, which are specific to him.

All HLs would be able to winnow any distance. All would have 'innate dominance' which they could use to force others to heel or to do their bidding.

Cardinal magic is usually 'learned' magic--aka, it's an ability that technically all Fae should have, but it's not intrinsic to them and requires learning. That would typically include any kind of healing (I would assume that the more powerful you are, the better healer you are), invisibility, object manipulation and spells. So when Amarantha stole the book of spells from the King, that's how she managed to weaken and lock away all of the High Lords' magic.

It gets messy with SJM when she doesn't define what High Fael vs Lesser Fae vs High Lords can do, and what is elemental. We don't know if all High Fae have some kind of elemental magic to them, and what it might be. Like is glamour something all high Fae can do? or is it cardinal magic, which they learned? So when Lucien glamoured Feyre, and even Rhys couldn't see her, what is that exactly? Same with LoA--when she helped Feyre UTM, is it because she is a Lady or because she is a High Fae?

The problem also continues, for example, with Rhys UTM--he could still use his daemati powers, but nothing else. So, is daemati then not his natural magic? But it would seem that it is, but why would he be able to use it on Lucien and others? And why not on everyone? And why were Lucien's mental shields so weak? OR, when Rhys picked up all the lentils for Feyre from the fireplace--why was he able to do that, but not other things?

There are lots of inconsistencies, especially when it comes to Rhys--SJM keeps wanting to make him oh-so powerful, which is fine, but then like why can't he deliver his baby without killing his wife and his kid? Yet, at the same time, he is able to shield an entire city from discovery for 50 years and move huge armies to his heart delight.

I mean, even with Nesta, for example--why couldn't Feyre or Rhys technically daemati her into a different behaviour? (yes, it sounds terrible and totally invasive) but logically, it would make sense? and Rhys sounds like a guy who would do something like that? Or like, why can't he daemati Kier?

[talesdevourer]

Hi! Here is my thought if you'd like to hear from another perspective!

I WANT HER TO WANT HIM, I want them to sincerely fall in love, as simple as it sounds. If she won't like him I would be sad and it doesn't make sense anymore for them to be endgame in the books because it would feel forced and that's not enjoyable, but still I would ship them in my fake scenarios because I like it. But often this issues is taken too seriously... they are fictional characters, they exist in our head too so I'm allowed to imagine them happy together or whatever please me. We can be super invested in a story or a ship and as long as we don't disrespect the author or each other pov I don't see a problem.

Back to Elucien.

Right now I don't think she has feelings for him, maybe she feels a pull she cant understand, but secret love/lust/liking? Not really. Imo she doesn't even want to think about it now. Or him.

But I see lot of potential for them (aside the classic sunshine/nature aesthetic). The slow burn would be tortuous but satisfying.

I see a young heartbroken woman and a male who knows well about suffering for love. Both of them were going to marry for love until something tragic happened. Lucien swear he wouldn't love anyone anymore. He mourned his beloved for decades, I think he would understand that Elain can't move on overnight, not only from Graysen rejection but from everything since the Cauldron. He's giving her space.

Greysen spoke hateful words to her because she became different, while Lucien didn't care that Jesminda was a lesser fae and was willing to marry her anyway even without Beron's approval.

Lucien is the only one who knew Elein's father, while among her sisters Elain was the only one who didn't hate him when he wasn't providing for their family. I imagine she would like to know things about her father's last days of life, and Lucien could tell her. Tell her that her father acknowledged her love for him, even if he knew he didn't deserve it during those years. Ok I'm starting to get emotional with all this wandering 😭

He would challenge her with his wit and humor, she could be sheepish at first and then learn to leave him speechless, like omg the polite and gracious Elain has a very dirty mouth lol (ok this is just headcanon). Even in public I don't think, like I read somewhere, that he would shade her with his nature; he's courteous and together they could be very efficient hosts/diplomats and complement each other. They could maintain pleasant conversations with people.

She's to learn how to use her power, he has unknown (to us) powers since he's Helion son. Their journey would be of personal growth too.

I really believe that among the Archeron sisters, Elein is the one who's really the power to choose. The first one to know who's his mate before even talking to him, interesting isnt it? Maybe she feels "shackled" (Lucien used this word) to him, instead she has full knowledge of her situation and can act accordingly. Also I think Lucien wants to choose and to be chosen, he wanted to see if she was worth it because he had knew love and who knows, maybe he's struggling with guilt for Jesminda.

But first they have to interact more, I don't know how but in this environment, where she is guarded from the IC and every move he does is watched closely, how can they show their true selves? They are awkward and not spontaneous with each other. I wouldn't want to be in Lucien shoes, the pressure of this situation is unbearable I could never 🥲

I want them to get closer. I hope they can at least be friends, who knows maybe she will know him but still reject the bond 🥲 I can't claim Elucien will be endgame because 1) I'm not the author and 2) also Elriel and a possible forbidden love has potential, he saw her (after she said that no one sees her) being a seer when Lucien couldn't help her like others were expecting him to do, and there is physical attraction and comfort between them. Elain hears Lucien heartbeats but he doesn't. Elriel has lot of points in its favor too.

I feel like elucien is endgame and I love the destiny lovers/mated trope, a rejected bond would be so sad but atsm I don't want to get my hopes up and than be disappointed because we can argue but nobody really knows what's going to happen next

... the only thing I know is that like the damned Gemini I am I definitely talk too much about what I'm passionate (obsessed) about 🫠

As an Elriel, I actually rlly like most Eluciens. I find that a lot of their theory’s are well thought out and they want the characters to be happy. But I do wonder one thing tho, so if you are an Elucien feel free to comment and rb if u have an answer!

I know that most Eluciens think that Elain already has secret feelings for Lucien but is staying away from him bc she’s scared of her feelings or she had a vision he’ll get hurt. At the very least, most think that eventually they’ll fall in love. Again, no problem with that!

But if Elain doesn’t actually like Lucien, and she never does, would you still want them to be together? Not to say that Lucien’s a bad character or undeserving of love(I love him sm) but would you want Elain to be with him even if she doesn’t want to be?

[anulithots]

"Show off much?"

The tumblr houseplant series: Philodendron. Episode five.

The tumblr houseplant series: Growing a garden of houseplants based off this weird thing called existence, "planted" by others from tumblr.

The Philodendron from @rainisawriter

"I think one of the biggest things I struggle to overcome is taking things to heart. I'm quite sensitive, see, and I tend to take things personally even when it isn't personal at all."

Episode one - Weather you like it or not

Episode two - What a debut

Episode three- You get in the way

Episode four - You're being unreasonable.

Note - this is still a first draft, any feedback is much appreciated <3

TRIGGER WARNING - slight self-deprecation.

-------

Before, Philo danced.

Fae wasn't particularly good at it. Although fae didn't know that at the time. By the stars, how did fae live in such ignorance? The feelings of sunshine through the mist, of its rays brushing the clouds over the hills of a vast world beyond, were those feelings worth the aftermath?

Yes. No.

But at the time, Philo swished faer leaves around in a showcase of just how obnoxiously large and "twirly-flappy" they were.

To think, Philo wanted to dance at every festival, all through the dawn, for as long as fae could. Fae wanted to sway faer leaves at every opportunity and fae wanted to watch the shadows as the sunlight trickled across faer leaf tips.

To think, it took one entire year of suffocating memories before someone told Philo a critical piece of information.

Faer leaves got in the way.

It was Rose. Rose told faer during the spring festival. Philo had wanted to take part in the 'showcase competition', specifically in Rose's group. It was Rose, after all, who brought the original idea of festivals to the gardens - even if their versions were heavily modified, 'desecrated' according to faer.

If Philo could take part in faer group, then fae would have a quite valuable use to the festivals, fae could even participate in Rose's agenda to 'wild-ize' the gardens.

Oh how wrong Philo was.

Rose looked over Philo with a few glances. "Your wings are quite showy - they may get in the way of any dances. In the wild you would've -"

Philo burst into tears right then and there.

Fae ran to the window, letting the outside world Rose raved about distract faer from the thoughts that threatened to consume faer. The sunlight, the clouds, the moon and the stars, they softened the world in Philo's head, until it faded away.

If Philo did something, if fae could do something as magical as the stars themselves, then maybe none of it would hurt. Because fae already made faer world as expansive as the outside, why would anyone say anything bad to that?

Philo would be free of worrying about this, if fae only found a suitable idea.

Philo curled into a ball, worrying about it, because fae found the worst idea in existence.

-------

Yes, I will scream if you show me any videos of the dances I did at weddings when I was younger. Yes, I did give up a few hobbies because someone said something off-handed, even helpful.

Yes, there was a time where embarrassment was constant and painful, and I never could understand why embarrassment seemed to be one of the 'lesser emotions' to everyone else. It ruled my entire life.

So yes, this was extremely healing.

To any Philodendron people out there, take care of yourself <3

[next episode - Rain]

[theladyofbloodshed]

Another prompt, inspired by In Defiance of the Stars, except Cassian discovers his mate is an Autumn Court fae named Nesta. 2 problems, She is Beron's bastard and the Vanserra brood are now Cassian's in laws. But yeah, Eris and Nesta as siblings would have so much power and the awkward family dinners...

‘It has finally happened,’ Mor announced, waltzing into the room with a clap of her hands. A bright, beaming smile was on her face as she dropped into a chair. She waited a moment for her words to settle, to create intrigue. ‘Beron Vanserra has a bastard.’

‘Bullshit,’ Cassian scoffed.

Mor held up her hands. ‘This has come from the Summer Court. You know they don’t lie.’

‘Cass wouldn’t know because he’s not been allowed in for centuries.’

The others snickered at Azriel’s word. It was one building – and none of them would let him forget it.

‘So, he’ll be dead soon,’ Rhys replied absently, tinkering with a metal model of the stars. ‘Beron has enough legitimate sons vying for his throne and he’s not even dead yet. A bastard’s head will roll quick enough.’

Mor gave a tut then sank further into the chair. She crossed an ankle over the other. ‘This one’s a daughter. And there are rumours that he will claim her.’

‘A prize breeding mare to bargain with,’ said Cassian.

‘Exactly.’ Mor’s eyes simmered with long-held pain.

The shadows circling Azriel tightened so he was almost concealed from view. Then, ‘I’ve heard none of this. Not a whisper.’

Rhys shook his head with exasperation. ‘Because you deal with intel worth knowing. Mor likes to gossip.’

‘It’s not gossip! And Cassian likes to hear it.’

That was true. Sometimes he and Mor would sit up on the balcony and gossip about the people passing by if they knew them. Their lives were examined enough; it was fun to do it to others in return.

'She’s powerful.’

They turned to Amren who sat clutching a wineglass filled with blood. Her black painted nails drummed on the bowl.

'Beron would never claim a bastard – female or male – unless they had something he wanted. He will claim ownership of his daughter because she likely has a power he wants to possess.’

That made sense. Beron couldn’t be called a pious male by any means, but he had been a high lord for nearly seven centuries. There had been no weaknesses in his court, no attempts at usurping him. Cruel and malicious, yes, but Beron had ruled without wavering. It was said his wife was a shadow of herself and his sons were just as vile as he was. But there had never been a whisper of his infidelity where so many other males might have exploited their power. It had seemed that Beron had produced enough heirs and focused only on the iron-fist that gripped his court for seven hundred years. Until now.

‘We need every scrap of information on this female, Az.’

The shadow singer gave a curt nod then departed swiftly.

‘It’s not gossip,’ Mor repeated to her cousin.

Rhys snorted. ‘Didn’t you tell me a few weeks ago that Beron’s youngest was wooing a lesser fae?’

Mor folded her arms. ‘He is.’

‘You are obsessed with the Autumn Court, girl.’

Mor turned her stare on Amren. Neither was willing to back down from it until Cassian coughed loudly. ‘I feel bad already for this female. Beron as her father, Eris as her brother. Imagine if she ends up with a male like Tamlin as her mate.’

***

‘Eris Vanserra, if you go into my room again, I will snap your wrist.’

Eris, proud and cold, did not pause from eating his breakfast. The knife sliced through the fried egg. ‘I didn’t go in. A servant did.’

‘Semantics,’ Nesta snapped.

It had been three months since Nesta had been moved into the Forest House. It had not been a seamless transition. In fact, it had all been rather odd.

Eris had long been the male her father had planned to marry her to. Whenever it was brought up though, her mother would become strange and reluctant, offering up other well-to-do families in the Autumn Court instead for their daughter. Her father couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t aim for the Vanserra family so that Nesta’s son could become the future high lord. What was the point in deliberately aiming lower?

She had known the Vanserras, of course. Her father was an advisor to Beron. Her mother a lady-in-waiting to Elena, his wife. Nesta had spent many days in the Forest House right from birth. She knew its every secret tunnel and passageway, knew the guards and servants.

From all the brothers, Lucien was the kindest but least likely to be high lord. She had shared a tutor with Eris, knew him the best. A marriage wouldn’t have been terrible – but they argued relentlessly.

Eris had invited Nesta to dance at a ball. They’d bickered and snapped the entire dance. Eris deliberately stepped on her toes, so she deliberately raised her knee to his groin, doubling him over in pain.

Beron had laughed – actually laughed – at their fiery altercation. He’d clapped Nesta’s father on the back and said, ‘What do you say? You have one daughter. I have a son. Let’s see what fireworks they can create.’

Her father had been about to agree, to strike the betrothal like a match setting a forest alight. Her mother had turned a ghastly shade of green. Then it had all come spilling out.

Nesta Archeron was Nesta Vanserra. It happened once she said. Once was enough with the seed of Beron. The male she had danced with, borderline flirted with many times, was actually her brother. She had wanted to vomit. Eris had vomited out of the window. Her father – not her father really – had thrown her mother from the house, scandalised and disgusted. Beron had him executed and then her mother for revealing the truth.

Nesta had sat in their manor awaiting the sentries to drag her to her fate too. Instead, a group of servants from the Forest House arrived to pack up all of her belongings and bring her to Beron’s home. It seemed he was claiming his bastard daughter. She had magic. A lot of it. Her mother had let that slip too. What he had not learned however was the sort of fire she possessed: it blazed silver and struck a person dead.

‘Stop being so nosy. You have no business in my room.’

‘As your elder brother it is my duty to ensure your virtue remains intact,’ Eris replied smoothly.

‘Who do you think I am hiding beneath my bed? A sprite? It is three inches from the floor, Eris. Or perhaps you believe that's actually eight inches.’

His cheeks pinked. ‘How dare you speak of such things at the table.’

‘Where else would you like to discuss it?’

The dining room door opened and Elena Vanserra entered accompanied by her personal handmaiden and a guard. Elena had always been kind to Nesta, always used to relish stroking her hair or buying pretty dresses for her. She had worried that since her birth had come to light, the Lady of the Autumn Court might become hostile or treat her as cruelly as Beron did. Elena’s heart did not waver. She did not blame Nesta for any of it. Just as a lady should be, she navigated it all with dignity – even if it was shameful that her husband had not only sired another child, but had moved her into the family home.

‘Mother.’

‘Good morning.’ Elena took a seat to the left of Eris and servant scurried to bring her a breakfast. ‘The high lords are meeting tomorrow in the Dawn Court. Your father has requested that we all attend.’

Her russet eyes landed on Nesta. She knew what lay behind that look. It was Beron’s first opportunity to trot out his daughter in front of the most powerful males in Prythian. He would test the waters to see what she could earn him. Elena had been there, knew the struggle. Her family had offered her up to Beron when he had newly taken his throne and she had endured his brutality ever since.

The day was spent with Elena. Servants and handmaidens were shooed away, allowing them privacy to prepare. She had been afforded some slack as the daughter of an advisor. Now, Nesta was a Vanserra. Every move had to be precise and calculated. The story of her conception was altered. The executions of her parents were to be silenced. Nesta had to scrub any memories of them from her mind as if Beron had birthed her himself.

At least, she had been raised to be a lady. Her manners were impeccable, her knowledge of courts and Prythian itself second to none. That was likely one of the reasons why Beron hadn’t also had her neck on the chopping block. She was far easier to mould into what he wanted.

It worked in her favour that Nesta knew the ins and outs of the court through her father, that she’d spent time in his study reading reports and learning from him. A shame really that Beron’s title would not pass to her; Nesta found herself far more deserving it of than Eris.

Beron had spoken to her a handful of times since claiming her – more often it was about her. As they prepared to winnow to the Dawn Court, Beron inspected all of them. An advisor had lined them all up – as if they needed prompting to assemble. He prowled slowly, eyes roving from head to toe to ensure they were up to his high standards. Not a thread was allowed to be loose. No scuffs on boots, no hair out of place. Sometimes, he called inspections in the middle of the night or had their rooms searched.  

His eyes snagged on the fourth born, well, fifth born now Nesta supposed since she had slotted into second born position. Roan kept his eyes trained on the ground as Beron drew closer. Nesta could almost hear the thumping of his heart, the sweat running down the back of his neck in terror.

‘Stand up straighter like her,’ he said finally with a reluctant glance at Nesta.

***

Travelling to other courts always made them uncomfortable. Amren would remain in Velaris, guarding the City of Starlight. Mor had been irritable since dawn; every hour that brought her closer to seeing Eris again had put her more on edge. Even Azriel seemed to be feeding into that energy. His shadows never strayed far from his side as they ran over last-minute preparations. They had blueprints of the Dawn Court’s palace, had mapped out every single exit, gone over every possible scenario.

It had been Helion who had called the meeting, mentioning Hybern in his letter to Rhys, but not expanding on it.

If the others were nervous, Rhys was at least calm. He would don the mask of sadistic bastard in public because he had to. There could be no wavering in his confidence. One crack in that mask would be exploited.

Unlike his friends, Cassian felt good. The Dawn Court had fantastic food, beautiful females, and a near-constant golden glow. What could go wrong?

They exchanged tentative greetings with Day Court representatives – the only Court they were on cordial terms with. Only Winter hadn’t yet arrived.

The Summer delegate were already mingling with Spring, their closest ally. The two high lords spoke with another male too – Beron’s youngest by the looks of him. Unlike the Vanserras, this one seemed at ease mingling with crowds and making friends.

Cassian searched for an autumn female. Amongst the crowd, he hunted for chestnut or red hair, for forest-green or orange dresses -for Beron in a wig. Azriel had been unable to uncover little information on her. Only that she was not a child and was high-fae. He saw Elena Vanserra stood meekly beside her husband, eyes cast to the ground in submission. Beron did not covet friends. Most of his sons flanked him. The eldest had departed. Eris had climbed the stairs so he stood on the balcony, looking down upon the white hall. His cruel eyes scrutinised the decorations. Automatically, Cassian spared a look to Mor. She had pulsed forwards to the entry where the Winter Court were making their arrival, oblivious to Eris' presence.

He glanced up again to the male. He could not say how glad he was that Mor had not married him. What had been done to her was vile. There would be no forgiveness for it. But at least she had not been condemned to a life in the Autumn Court.

A female came to his side. She was utterly beautiful. Her blonde hair was swept up into a coronet, displaying the sharp line of her jaw. Her white dress was like a second skin, tight to her chest and waist then dripping out around the skirts like a mist. She clinked a glass with Eris, smirking slightly, then drained it in one long drink.

Not another female that had the misfortune of being betrothed to Eris, Cassian hoped.

Unable to help himself, Cassian started up the stairs towards them. He could never resist the chance to torment Eris, just as Eris did to them.

Closer, he could see the blue-grey of her eyes. They way they swirled like molten metal as she engaged in rapid conversation with Eris.

Her arms were mostly bare save for the draping of gossamer from the straps of her dress. There was no indication of her Court. Most had some tell-tale signs. She was a puzzle. Perhaps Beron had bought a foreign female for his eldest to breed because no other would want him.

‘Another bride for you to torture?’ Cassian asked, closing the distance between them.

Eris had the gall to look affronted by his words, but the female next to him scoffed. Her arm looped with his in solidarity.

‘My sister,’ he said coldly.

She turned that quicksilver gaze on him, inspecting his wings first, then his size, and finally landing on his own eyes.

Cassian's heart quickened. Felt the tug of a force beyond this world shifting the very fabric of the universe. Time slowed as the earth shifted on its axis. She held his gaze, face going slack as she felt the same bond that he did wending between them. Felt it snap into place. Mates.   

[anyoneseenadam]

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

—————————————————————————-

You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.  

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!”  you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”