#poor nyx archeron

[achaotichuman]

*Trigger warning, mention of SA.*

What is wrong with people?? Acotar isn't a dark romance, in fact it is supposed to touch on DV and abusive tropes being wrong, consider how SJM villainized Tamlin and the BatB trope. Rhysand's actions were abusive and SA by the books own rules!! If Tamlin is abusive for locking her up, Rhysand is abusive for drugging, SAing and hiding medical information from her. You cannot villainize one character for doing something and then have another character praised for the same thing/something even worse. Rhysand has canonically gaslighted and manipulated Feyre. Withheld life-altering information from her on multiple occasions, not just the pregnancy but also their mating bond. Coerced her into making bargains with him, physically abused her under the mountain by twisting her already broken arm. Made her do sexually provocative dances while she was drugged in front of large crowds until she vomited (find it weird that Tamlin is vilified for not helping her when she was vomiting after UTM but Rhysand gets a pass for when she vomited while UTM).

He only allowed her to go outside when she was pregnant with a bubble around her, does not take her to make friends in other courts, doesn't give her a way to access other Courts without one of the IC always being with her. Basically, isolates her in Velaris. And on top of it all, Feyre gaslights herself into believing he does it out of her love her.

But sure, he's just a 'bad boy' in a 'dark romance'. Get real, Tamlin is a saint in comparison to Rhysand. And I haven't even touched on how Rhysand's treats his own Court.

Feyre needs to get the fuck away from Rhysand and Tamlin and take her poor baby with her. Nyx is going to get fucked over by his dad if she stays.

i hate it here

[achaotichuman]

Stupid little headcanon.

As Nyx gets older the people in his life slowly start to come to a realization.

Nyx is not like Rhysand, most certainly not. He gets into arguments with his father daily, he refuses to train at the Illyrian camps and doesn't approve of fighting to kill. He doesn't have the snarky, relaxed, flirtatious personality Rhysand has. In fact, he can be quite cold and very sharp. He has a quick wit and fiery tongue, one could say he has a... forked tongue.

He is nothing like Feyre either. He is not outgoing or highly adventurous, all of his soft spots are carefully concealed. He prefers books to painting or going to meetings. And he prefers tasteful ballroom dancing to going out to Rita's and partying.

Nyx is not Feyre or Rhysand.

Nyx is like Nesta.

[stargirlie25]

consider yourself an enemy if you try to say Nesta didn't have a right to use the trove in the ember bonus chapter.

I know all these ppl are Rhysand Stan's in disguise trying to make a point.

NOT EVERYTHING BELONGS TO ONE CHARACTER ONLY!

The trove obeys Nesta SUCK ITTTT

I don't say it as much but I think Rhysand Stan's annoy me more than Rhysand himself.

LIKE people will never let Nesta goes even though she is practically the authors favorite character?

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in the Bottle - Chapter 9

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Elain Bashing, Rhys is trying to be a supportive big brother, This is officially the penultimate chapter of this story, but the series will eventually go on!

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

“When was I supposed to tell you?” Eira asked Feyre calmly. “You said you were busy with more important things. You were busy with running this court.”

She didn’t give her sister the fault for that, but…

“I would have…” Feyre protested but then cut herself off. “No, I wouldn’t have,” she sighed. “That’s on me. I gave you no opportunity to come to me, no reason why you should ever trust me again…” Feyre said softly, trailing off, staring at Eira with wide blue eyes. “I am sorry.”

“For what? Saying what you were thinking?” Eira asked her sister, her eyebrows furrowing. “You are allowed to do that, Feyre. Even if I don’t like to hear it.”

Even when she didn’t want to hear it…even then.

“Talking to you like this,” Feyre pointed out, reaching out for her hand.  “When I told you that I had more important things to do when you were only trying to be nice to me…or when I put my nose into what happened between Azriel and you.”

Eira swallowed at that. 

“Don’t be,” Eira assured her sister, forcing a smile on her face.  “It was time for me to…to realise that he’s completely uninterested and that any hope of him changing his mind is a fever dream.” Azriel wasn’t interested and he never would be. It would be better for everybody if Eira just accepted that. 

She would get over him. Find somebody else…maybe somebody that she wouldn’t annoy… maybe some long-suffering male… who was willing to take pity on her.  “You don’t need to worry about it anymore, Feyre. I won’t try and talk to him again,” she promised her sister. 

Feyre had enough other things to worry about. Eira’s feelings weren’t going to inconvenience anyone any more. 

“No!” Feyre exclaimed and she stared at her sister. 

What? 

This was what Feyre had wanted, wasn’t it?

“No?” she repeated questioningly, a hand still gently running over Nyx's back that was happily cuddling with her, playing with her fingers. 

“What Feyre means is that…you have every right to…handle your relationships as you see fit,” Nesta hurried to add. 

Her relationships?

“There is no relationship. There never will be a relationship. I’ll get over myself,” Eira promised. Eventually. “You don’t need to worry about it. I won’t annoy him any longer or inconvenience you.”

You’ve never annoyed Master, the shadows hissed at her, suddenly appearing and wrapping themselves around her hand. 

“It’s very sweet of you to say that, but we both know it is a lie,“ she said quietly, blinking back the tears that threatened to run over her face. It was so sweet. So sweet of them to do that…but it was useless. 

Don’t worry, I’ll find somebody else,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. Somebody that…somebody that maybe wanted her…somebody that she wouldn’t annoy…somebody that… “Is everything alright with Elain’s wedding planning?“ she asked, changing the topic. Eira hoped everything was alright with that, otherwise poor Elain would be so stressed once again and…

“Eira, forget that fucking wedding for a moment,” Nesta snapped and she flinched, worriedly looking at Nyx that didn’t seem to care one way or another about Nesta’s cursing. What was wrong with the wedding? Had something gone amiss? Was it her fault? Was it something that Eira had done?! “Look at me,” her older sister said with a sigh. She did. Eira’s eyes met Nesta’s, silver and grey, so similar. “I am sorry,” Nesta told her earnestly. 

“Why are you apologising?” Eira asked. What was…

“Because I threw everything I could think of at your head when I…during those weeks and you still came to visit me every week. You wouldn’t have needed to do that but you still did,” Nesta said quietly. 

“You’re my sister. Of course, I came to visit you,” Eira said fiercely. Of course, she had come to visit Nesta. She would have…otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself. ”You don’t need to apologise,” Eira assured her. It was fine. Nesta had…had a really bad time and…

“Yes, I do,” Nesta snapped. “You should be angry with me!”

Furious…Angry…But then Eira had never really been angry quickly. She had never…And even when she had gotten angry, it had never held for very long…even her anger at Elain had gone away in a few hours. 

It sparked and then it went out again.

“You should be furious with me! For belittling you, for telling you that all the dresses you make are ugly, for behaving like I did!”

She repeated the words, and something deep inside Eira curled together once she heard them again, even when Nesta was sorry about all she had said. 

It was fine. Nesta could… her dresses weren’t as perfect as some that one could buy maybe…maybe Nesta was right. Maybe she should keep to hemming them and shortening sleeves and alterations and stop making things from scratch…maybe she should…“You are entitled to your own opinion,” she said softly. 

“Not when I use it to hurt you on purpose!” Nesta yowled. “You never told me you made me a wedding dress,” she said, her voice dropping, sounding weak. 

How did she…

For just a moment it felt like Eira’s heart was stopping. Then she swallowed, and she looked down at Nyx, still cuddled up to her, as she answered.  “You wouldn’t have wanted to wear it, so what did it matter? It’s ugly.”

Not good enough. Not pretty enough. Worthless.

“It’s beautiful,” Nesta responded, her voice splintering. 

Eira just closed her eyes. 

She couldn’t stand it. She could deal with the harsh words but she could not deal with the outright lying. She could not… “You don’t need to tell me that to spare my feelings, Nesta. I understand,” Eira said weakly. She did understand it. 

It was alright. It was…

“I am not lying to you!” Nesta snapped.” “Be angry at us. Scream at us. Throw us out, Eira. But don’t just…accept it. Don’t just turn the other cheek. Don’t just…”

What good could that possibly do?

“So I am angry and then what, Nesta?” Eira finally asked, for the first time feeling so utterly tired. “Is screaming at you supposed to make me feel better or you?” she asked, for the life of her not understanding what Nesta wanted from her. “I love you, but I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I think it may be better if you all take a break,” a voice came from the doorway and she looked up to see Rhysand there. 

Gods, couldn’t she at least be spared that? 

At least…

“I am not…” Nesta started, but Rhys cut her off quietly. 

“Nesta. Please.” She had never heard the two of them talk to each other like that. 

Never. 

But now they did. And to Eira’s shock, her older sister listened. 

“Fine,” she agreed with a sigh, as Feyre scooped up Nyx, who gave her a toothy smile as she waved at him. 

Both Feyre and Nesta left the room, leaving her alone with Rhys. 

“If this is about my ill-hidden puppy crush on your spymaster, you don’t need to worry about that,” she told him, trying to make her voice seem frosty and probably failing horribly. “I promise I’ll do whatever you want so that he’s not uncomfortable.”

Maybe then she would get out of needing to have a conversation about it with Rhys…maybe then he wouldn’t start making fun of her or laughing at it…

God, it must be utterly ridiculous to a man who was over 500 years old. She probably was just…

The last thing she had expected was for him to watch her with his dark violet eyes and then say three words: “I am sorry.”

Why was everybody insisting on apologising to her today?

And why was Rhys of all people apologising to her? Was it because of him looking into her mind? Seeing her deepest darkest secrets? Stripping her mind naked for him to see and gawk at? 

Was it that?

“About taking a peek into my mind? Weren’t you trying to keep my pain at bay?” she asked, crossing her arms, ignoring the pain that appeared again in her ribs. 

“I was,” Rhys agreed. “But I should have known better. I was arrogant and not careful enough. You have a right to privacy, Eira, and I violated that. And then I violated it further when I told everybody what you felt when they were talking to you.”

Oh great. It just got worse and worse. 

“It’s fine,” she said, waving him off meekly. She didn’t have the strength to argue with him right now. 

“It’s not,” Rhys disagreed with a sigh. “And that’s not the only thing that I am sorry about either. I am sorry about the role I played in making you feel like you have no place here in Velaris,” he continued and her head snapped up to him. 

How…of course. He had seen everything. 

 “Like you are worthless…that you don’t matter,” Rhys continued softly. “I should have never talked to you like that, and I should have realised that we have taken you for granted a very long time ago,” Rhys said. “Even now you are wondering why Feyre and Nesta even bother to apologise to you. Eira, it wasn’t right how we treated you. When I finally got to pull myself from your mind, I threw up, because I was so utterly disgusted with what members of our family said to you. And I am counting myself onto that list as well.”

She didn’t even know what to say to that. 

She didn’t…

It was everything she had ever wished anybody would tell her…Everything right there offered to her on a silver platter. 

She could feel the tears burn into her eyes because she was…”What do you want?” Eira finally choked out. “What do you want, Rhysand? You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t want something. So what is it?”

What did he want that…

But she hadn’t expected him to reach out, one warm broad hand settling on her shoulder. 

“Oh, little one,” he breathed. “I don’t…I don’t want anything from you. This isn’t me manipulating you into giving up even more of yourself. The only thing I want is for you to be happy. I want you to know that we love you. I want you to know that none of us took for granted what you did…that you took this knife for Nyx. You were willing to give your own life for my son, Eira.” 

She had. 

“I am sorry for the role I played. I am not expecting you to forgive me now, but I would…hope that you may let me earn your forgiveness. May let all of us work for it.”

She had no idea what to think of that, didn’t know what to say about any of that, as the tears ran over her cheeks and he handed her a handkerchief from nowhere, his magic easily answering his call. 

“Think about it?” he requested softly. “If you don’t think you can ever forgive us…we’ll figure out somewhere else for you to stay…you won't ever need to worry about money or anything else…but if you were willing to give us a second chance…I know that Feyre and Nesta would be so happy to have you here.”

She didn’t want to go anywhere else. She was too connected to her family for that, she loved them too much that she thought that she could be happy anywhere further away from them. Maybe a smarter person would have taken Rhys’ offer with both hands, would have made herself a nice little life somewhere near the Summer Court maybe…but…

So finally she just nodded. 

She would give them a chance to fix things. She could try. 

And if it didn’t work out…maybe she would find herself somewhere else then. 

“There is…something else, I need to show you, if that’s alright, though,” Rhys continued quietly. “And it’s not..going to be…nice,” he warned her. “Elain had a vision.”

A vision? A bad one? “When?” Eira asked tonelessly. Were they in danger? 

“Close to two years ago,” Rhys answered gently. “Soon after you were made…and since then Elain has…manipulated circumstances so that it wouldn’t come to fruition. She didn’t tell anybody about it.”

This didn’t sound well. This didn’t sound like her sister either. 

“Is she alright?” Eira demanded and Rhys nodded. 

“She’s fine,” he promised her, his voice even. “I think it’s better if you see it if you’ll let me show you.” 

She nodded her agreement, swallowing…steeling herself for death and destruction and then getting…neither. 

Actually, that vision was…the softest, sweetest thing she had ever seen. 

It was…It was everything she had ever wanted. 

A little girl with her caramel brown hair…dark eyes…hazel and green…and wings. She had wings? Illyrian wings?

Eira watched herself with the little girl…watched them pull the carrots out of the ground…watched the little girl grin at her, gap-toothed and beautiful…everything she had ever wanted. 

And then…then she saw these violently scarred hands that had only ever touched her with so much gentleness…scoop up the little girl, her daughter…her mud-sprinkled dress decorated with little floral embroidery and settled her on his hip in a move that looked like he had done it hundreds and thousands of time. 

It was…

Azriel. 

What? How…why…the wings. It was his child? Her child? His child? Their child?!

He lifted up the basket that they kept their harvest in and then helped up her…the touch gentle and…intimate in a way that spoke of their…that…

One hand was pressed against the swell of her belly…another child slumbering inside her. 

A baby. 

Her babies. 

Their babies. 

No, this…this…

Her blood rushed in her ears, her breathing rapid as her vision cleared and Rhys looked at her quietly…nearly pitying. 

“The mating bond snapped for Azriel during dinner a few days ago,” he told her, his voice quiet. 

No. No. No. 

“This isn’t funny.” She wasn’t even sure how she forced these words out of her mouth. She wasn’t sure how she did that…How she…

“It’s not a joke,” Rhys assured her quietly. “It’s the truth, Eira. Elain saw that and decided to stop it from happening.

No. 

Not Elain. Not her twin sister. Not…

Azriel. Azriel?

At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

But you do need to realise, Eira, that that is never going to go anywhere. 

Azriel is completely disinterested. And it would be better for you if you finally realised that.

I want you to be happy. And thirsting after a male that will never return your affections you won’t do that. He’s not going to change his mind, Eira.

You should just stop your pathetic attempts to flirt with him. All you manage is to make him uncomfortable. 

There are plenty of fish in the sea… You’ll find somebody else one day.

It’s still never going to go anywhere!

He’s completely disinterested.

Her breathing came in sharp gasps. Blood rushed in her ears. 

Elain had said all of that. Elain. 

Elain, who had known that Eira had fallen in love. Who had seen this vision…who had seen her…her children. Her babies. 

Azriel’s children. These perfect babies? 

And Elain had tried to make sure that they never would exist?!

Her babies…

The first sob that broke out of her chest, the first fat tears that spilt over her face as she buried her face in her hands…as she cried. 

“I know. I know, little one,” Rhys whispered quietly. 

“Why did she do this?” Eira forced out, forcing a deep lungful of air into her constricting lungs. Why would she do this? Why had she…Why had Elain seen this and then…then behaved like this…why had she…Why…

“Shhhhh,” Rhys shushed her softly, gently brushing a hand over her hair, smoothing it over “It’s alright. It’s alright.” 

It wasn’t alright. None of this was alright.

And she couldn’t stop the tears or the sob that shook her…even as she didn’t know how long it took until Nesta crawled into bed with her, hauling her against her body and holding her tightly. Even as Feyre curled up next to her, holding her hand…until it was the three of them, just as it had been in that cottage…lacking one sister. 

[artethyst]

~ Shadows Bathed In Moonlight ~

Azriel x Youngest Archeron Sister!Reader x OC

Little Ezekiel was not like his cousins.

Nyx, older only by two years, was cheerful and outgoing, curious like his mother and with an unbridled fearlessness just like his father.

Baby Thena, the youngest of the three, who had only just began to walk- toddle, already had the will of both her mother and father.

Cassian’s mischievous grin with Nesta’s piercing gaze.

Ezekiel, however, was just like Azriel.

He was very shy, in fact, he preferred to hide behind his mother’s legs and cling onto the shimmering skirts that pooled over them than chase after his cousins.

Rest his curly mop of raven hair against his father’s neck who was more than happy to scoop him up and carry him around, protective over the innocent child who had yet to be tainted by Prythian’s cruelties.

It was no secret Azriel preferred it that way, Rhysand and Cassian often teasing his parental axiety and overbearing behaviour, reminding him his son was an Illyrian after all.

Just as Illyrian as he had once been- delicate wings folded against his little back but with unblemished hands and love in his heart.

Azriel would keep it that way.

His Mate knew it was because of the innate fear of the Mother snatching his happiness away- as though he had never deserved it.

Ezekiel was a little miracle.

Not only were Fae children rare, the dangerous birth had put his mother in a coma, and him confined to the Healer’s for the first month of his wavering life.

It was the worst time of Azriel’s centuries long existence.

If he had been protective before, he was a hundred times worse now

When the other children played, Ezekiel was happy to curl up in another adult’s lap, to which many of them had no qualms, as Ezekiel was just the “cutest” according to Mor- a tiny version of his father that the Inner Circle could squeeze and smother with kisses.

Feyre often scolded Nyx for dragging the poor boy around, but Ezekiel held no grudges, a small blush on his face as his cousin tugged him along ranting on about whatever a child of his age had to rant about.

But now it was time for him to leave the nest.

The one his parents has so throughly wound.

“Ezekiel,” his mother bent down to his eye level, twinkling hazel eyes wide and scared. “Mama will be back soon okay?”

The little boy’s lip wobbled and tiny fists came to rub at his eyes which quickly filled with tears. His silent sobs broke her heart, Madja had always said he was an easy baby, like his father.

And even now- when he cried, he tried to hide it.

It worried her- that he would never throw a tantrum or openly seek comfort- but hide it as though he was ashamed to feel.

He choked back little cries as his mother had to force away her own.

She hated to think her little boy felt the need to internalise his feelings- especially from her.

Azriel had assured her it was okay- that he had been that way too, even when his own mother had shown him nothing but love.

“You’ll have lots of fun my Little Shadow,” she pressed a deep kiss to his wet cheek, gently brushing away his tears, trying not only to convince him but herself. “Nyx will be with you-“

“Yepppp! Come on ‘Zekiellllll!” His cousin’s voice sang in anticipation, not understanding why the boy was so reluctant to play with toys and read funny picture books all day.

Ezekiel continued to cry and so his mother picked him up, cradling him against her chest as he sobbed without restraint.

Unusual for such a well-behaved child such as he.

“D-Don’t leave me mama!” He wept. “I-I pwomise I’ll be good p-pwease don’t give me away!”

Her heart broke as he trembled and her free hand came to stroke at his curls, the way she had done to comfort her own husband many a time.

“I would never give you away my darling, and you have not been bad,” she smoothed his raven locks, “you are a big boy now, just like Nyx. You are old enough go and play with all other children-“

“I not a big boy I-I still a baby!” He cried and that was when his father appeared, face just as torn as his mother’s.

The boy did not giggle as he usually did when his father’s shadows came to tickle against his cheek, his cries coming out in small hiccups as she looked to Azriel in pure misery.

He wordlessly plucked the child from her arms, his own chest tightening at the sound of his only child’s pained cries- crying under the belief he was being abandoned.

Azriel had vowed his child would never feel the way he had, unloved and nothing but a burden the Mother was so cruel to burden the equally dismal world with.

His Mate had changed that outlook.

And now his greatest treasure- a part of them both, homage to their fiery passion and proof the Shadowsinger was indeed capable of love.

Ezekiel continued to cry as Azriel’s shadows were equally as unsettled, trying their best to cheer up the little boy who quivered so violently, he might have fallen from his father’s arms had the older male’s grip been so secure.

He would rather suffer burns across his entire flesh- take Truthteller to his heart than have his son feel unwanted.

“You know that your mother and I love you- more than anything. More than the sky above.”

Ezekiel sniffed, his little head nodding pathetically as best it could smushed into Azriel’s chest.

“You are our little star Ezekiel. You are the most precious thing to us- in all of Prythian. We would never let anything or anyone harm you, you never have to be afraid of the world as long as I am here.”

Feyre stood in the distance- letting her brother-in-law share the moment with his son, knowing just how heartbroken Rhys was at the same situation.

The difference was, Nyx hardly gave him a second glance- sprinting into the unfamiliar building with a new sense of reverence and promise of adventure.

“D-Daddy stay?” The boy became hopeful as Azriel shook his head, running a hand lovingly through his son’s inherited locks- a sense of pride and indescribable love overwhelming him at the sight.

Before he could come up with some semblance of comfort, Feyre saved the day. Pressing a wet kiss to her nephew’s cheek with an infectious smile on her warm face.

It wasn’t that she thought her own sister incapable, she just knew the poor woman was just as worried as Azriel.

Their forced smiles and glossy eyes hardly convincible even to a child.

“Hmmm, a little shadow told me that Uncle Cass has a surprise back home waiting for his best Spy…”

The boy paused, his little face red and besmirched with tears but an undeniable curiosity to his eye.

“Spies don’t cry Zekie!” Nyx chimed in as his mother sent him a gentle look of reprimand. “Come onnnnn, the faster we get home, the faster we get the suprise!”

“You like painting, don’t you Ezekiel?” Feyre continued, distracting the boy enough for him to perk up in curiosity, loosening his little balled fisted grip on his father’s leathers. “Would you like me to show you the art room?”

Azriel- albeit reluctantly, lowered his son to the ground, gently encouraging him towards Feyre who happily received his little hand in hers.

The Shadowsinger took his Mate into his arms as replacement, the loss of his son weighing heavy even on his own marred heart.

The boy had never once been out of their sight for so long.

And as Feyre guided him into the Nursery, her sister mouthing a watery ‘thank you’ as a tear cascaded down her cheek, Azriel couldn’t help but let one of his own slip as Ezekiel passed through the doors and out of his sight.

Hesitant in his little steps, but with his cousin there to help him along.

Just as Rhysand had done for his father.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea Right - Part 7

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

Soft Eris! Brooding Azriel! Meddling Nyx! Nosey Azalea! Reader has feelings! Enjoy.

Part 6 Part 7.5 (Prequel Headcanon)

Warnings: Language

How convenient that the moment I show up in a compromising position at my door step with my half-naked lover? Fuck buddy? For all intents and purposes we’ll say boyfriend to spare my father from a heart attack at such a salacious relationship status. Surprise, Eris! You may be an oh-so-noble High Lord but now you’re my boyfriend too. Time to meet the parents! Again. But I digress, my father’s busy schedule conveniently cleared right up as Eris and I showed up at the door.

And Eris, the bastard, accepted his complete and utterly insincere offer to come in for lunch.

He winnowed back to his place beforehand to change into something more befitting of the situation at hand.

It was my intention to dart to my room, put on more clothing than my skimpy underwear and hide there until Eris returned but…. Azalea had other things in mind. No sooner than I dressed, she barreled in through the door.

“Sissy! I missed you. Why didn’t you have clothes on?”

Following her into the room came my mother. “Azalea, why don’t you go help dad set the table.”

Her jaw dropped “But-“

“Please, Azalea. We don’t want Eris to return while we are unprepared. That would make us poor hosts.”

She mulled over it for a moment before letting out a breath. “Fiiiiiine.”

As she ran off down the hall, my mother approached me, seating herself on the edge of the bed.

Here comes the lecture.

Her soft face, frozen in eternal youth remained neutral. “Y/N, your father was mortified to walk out and find you two like that.”

I waited for her to continue but to my absolute shock, she raised her hand to her mouth and LAUGHED. A true, genuine laugh.

“I’m- I’m so sorry. I know it must have been so uncomfortable for you.” Her laughter was contagious, I couldn’t hold back the very slight grin that tilted the corners of my lips upwards. “I just- he’s so hard to surprise. I can count on both hands the amount of times I’ve ever seen him shocked, and Y/N, half of them have been because of you.”

Her laughter softened as she placed a hand softly upon my cheek. I leaned into it. “I love you, Y/N. Your antics and the surprise you bring to our lives makes immortality far less dull.”

I didn’t realize how much I needed this moment with my mother. It was easy to forget that she was more than just “mother”. She was a strong female with a sense of humor and more purpose than just tending to a home and garden and doting over her children.

I am an adult now. She is still very young in fae terms. My mother could be my friend if I’d only let her.

As her laughter died, a memory struck me.

The burning flame drives away the wild shadow.

“The vision from Starfall. What about that? You seemed so upset.”

Mother took my hand. “Y/N, my visions are only a piece of a puzzle, not the entire picture. It could mean anything. The situation itself took me by surprise and the vision felt ominous in the moment but it may not mean anything. And despite the situation that just unfolded at our door, I trust you to use your best judgement. If you feel safe and happy, that’s all I can ask for.”

Elain Archeron, seer and pragmatist. Who knew?

——————

Forks scraped on plates and glasses clanked on wood as the five of us tensely ate our lunch. My appetite non-existent at this point in time. Eris decided to show up in his most noble High Lord attire because why not make this lunch more stiff and uncomfortable than it needs to be? And while he may have been dressed for the part of serious High Lord, his posturing oozed irreverence. with a saccharine grin plastered onto his face. A silent battle of wills raged between he and my father, who would cut the tension by breaking through the silence first?

My father, cauldron bless him, only sat stiffly in his chair, trying his damndest (and failing) not to clench his jaw, while his fists wrapped tightly around his utensils - as if he were afraid he’d set them down and his fists would immediately go flying toward Eris��� face.

My mother sat directly across from me, passing the occasional eyebrow raise in my direction - a silent sentiment of “Males. Am I right?”

Meanwhile, Azalea bounced eagerly in her chair, eyes darting back and forth between my father and Eris. Sparing the two males of a shot to their male egos, she broke the silence. “Well??? Is anyone going to say something?”

“Azalea” my mother warned. To which Azalea let out a dismissive huff before opening her mouth again. “Hey fire-uh, Eris! Do you love my sister? Are you going to get married?”

I choked on my water, father somehow managed to grip his utensils tighter, and Eris only chuckled. “I’d have to get her to go on a proper date with me first.”

While his intentions were genuine with the statement, my father visibly paled as if remembering what two adults who aren’t on dates tended to get up to.

“Ohh! A date! Sissy, why don’t you go on one?”

“Eris is a High Lord, Azzy. It’s hard to schedule time for one.”

“What about Aunt Feyre’s art exhibit? You could dress up fancy and go to Sevenda’s and Eris, you could get her flowers!”

A small part of me lit up at that. I had never considered a date as an option. A larger part of me wanted to fall through the floor immediately only to resurface once everyone had left the table.

Eris glanced toward me, likely noticing my slightly reddened cheeks. With a grin he said, “I’d like that. When’s this exhibit, Azalea?”

The comment sent Azalea into a frenzy as she gave him all the details of the day, the time, the gallery, her favorite works, and into her own interest in art and painting, and how Aunt Feyre keeps a picture that she’d painted of a Unicorn - which is very different from a Pegasus, thank you very much - framed in her gallery.

Azalea may be the biggest busybody of us all but gods was I thankful for her chatty ways and tendency to overshare in the moment.

As Azalea rambled on a loud knock banged on the door, far too loud for my lingering headache from the night before. My shadows practically hissed in irritation at the disruption. And then, as I saw my fathers tense features shift from his own state of irritation into relief, rage flickered inside me.

I glowered. “Are you fucking kidding me, dad?”

Ignoring my question completely, he strode to the door only to be greeted by Cassian’s hulking figure and Rhys.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how cheeky he was feeling, Nyx strode in behind them.

If Eris was phased, he didn’t show it. Powerful High Lord or not, I had to give it to him. My- the male had balls.

Cassian clapped Eris on the shoulder as he strutted in. “To what do we owe this pleasure, High Lord?” Cassian’s ability to bait with only his tone of voice was rather impressive. Almost as impressive as Eris’ ability to remain unbothered by his efforts.

Nyx gave a subtle smirk and simultaneous eye roll. A show of “Oh I’m enjoying this very much but I empathize with you as well, cousin.” Rhys only gave Cassian a cautioning glare and likely a stern mental warning of “he’s still a High Lord and you will treat him as such.”

I forgot I still had a bone to pick with him over whatever secrets he and Eris had been keeping.

In fact….. since they were all here why not make this more uncomfortable for everyone - not JUST me.

Cassian, Rhys, and Nyx poured themselves glasses of whiskey before finding chairs at the table. Because why not mix in alcohol to this shit show? It’s not uncomfortable enough as it is.

“So,” I mused. “Uncle Rhys, when did you approve Eris for a temporary visa to rent an apartment in Velaris?”

Eris, ever the master of chaos, paled for the briefest of moments before a look crossed his features that he usually reserved for calling me “good girl” in his bed.

At that comment my father turned his icy gaze toward Rhys and even Cassian gaped.

And Rhys, the smooth prick, only replied “High Lord business, we have much to discuss regarding commerce in the coming months. Given his status it made more sense for him to have a private, warded apartment than to stay in a hotel with so many prying eyes.”

Though I thought the same, it was my father who muttered “Bullshit.” Shadows whirring in rage at Rhys openly allowing Eris to stay in the city as he pleases.

A part of me wanted to jump in and defend Eris but another part of me was still pissed to not have a direct answer.

Sensing the argument about to unfold between the brothers, my mother ushered Azalea, Eris, and I to the garden for tea. Nyx politely declined the offer in lieu of watching the drama between his father and Uncles play out.

—————

Seated in the garden, Azalea was jittery, practically begging to go inside and listen to the conversation with father and Rhys. Truthfully, I couldn’t blame her, and would have sent my shadows in but someone had thrown up a ward.

The tension between Eris and I, well, the tension from me to Eris was thick. I was still so angry with him for his secretive ways but… also so drawn to him. I craved him.

Fuck - this man and his stupid, beautiful face.

“Aw, are you thinking about me again? Glad you recognize which of us is the best looking Archeron.”

“Get out of my head, Nyx. You’re as nosey as Azalea.”

“Fine. I won’t give you updates on what’s happening in here.”

“Fuck off. Anyone have a broken bone or a black eye yet?”

“Nothing too exciting going on. Sadly. Mostly your father brooding in that rageful way of his over my father ‘encouraging’ your relationship.”

“He’s really struggling with accepting whatever it is between us.”

“Yeah, and Amren is a hoarder. Since we’re apparently stating the obvious here.”

“And you’re a pompous asshole.”

“You wound me, cousin.”

“Update me if anything interesting comes up.”

“Only if you say it.”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Fine. No gossip for you.”

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

Silence. Pure silence filled our mental connection for several moments.

“Fine.”

“Nyx is the most handsome Archeron.”

“I’m flattered. Talk to you later.”

I flipped him off mentally which earned a chuckle as his voice faded away.

He really was his father’s son. Insufferable in the most endearing of ways.

Seemingly having zoned out for too long, Azalea waived her little hands in my face “Earth to sissy!! Are you talking to Nyx? What’s happening?”

“LADIES.” Mother reprimanded. “Leave them be.”

A warmth heated my shoulder that I hadn’t previously noticed. When had Eris put his arm around me? So casually, so comfortably.

So…. Right.

And because she couldn’t leave him in peace, Azalea interrupted the quiet contentment, “Eris! I have a Sprite garden. Want to see it?”

Eris gave a gentle nod to Azalea. “I would love to.”

Mother only gave me an affectionate smile as I stood to follow them.

“This is Night Blooming Jasmine! The flowers are only out at night and this is a bench in case a Sprite comes to visit but I also put a bed back here” She motioned deep within the planted jasmine “in case one comes and needs a nap!”

Eris didn’t miss a beat as he crouched down to look at the little oasis she’s created in her garden.

“Do they ever come visit?” he asked inquisitively.

Softly, sadly, Azalea shook her head as she looked to the ground. “No.. but maybe someday. Maybe they’re nervous because we’re so big and they’re so tiny. I never see footprints but I will keep making it cozy for them so maybe they’ll feel safe. I would be their friend. We could be best friends.”

Eris listened attentively, never drifting his focus from her and her garden. And then my armored heart melted ever so softly as he warmly replied, “They’d be lucky to have you as a friend, Azalea.”

Her eyes lit up. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

“You can be my friend too if you want.” She said, looking to him eagerly.

Eris was taken back for a moment. And the look in his face gutted me. As if- as if he couldn’t fathom that someone so gentle, so unbroken by the world could look at him and see anything other than the cold, calculated product of Beron Vanserra.

Azalea stared at him expectantly, her face beginning to falter until he smiled. A broad, genuine smile that I’d seen so few times. “I’d like that very much.”

And with that she grabbed his hand and led him through the rest of the garden.

——————

Eventually my mother retrieved a reluctant-to leave-Eris’-side Azalea, as father had sent Cassian, Rhys, and Nyx home. He was likely fuming that his little plan to make things more uncomfortable than necessary backfired and she didn’t feel like dealing with explaining to him why Azalea was gleefully dragging Eris by the hand through the garden.

I made a mental note to myself to take my little sister out for pastries soon as a “thank you” for serving as a buffer throughout the afternoon. I didn’t realize just how much discomfort she’d spared me from until she had gone inside and I was left alone in the garden with Eris.

Perhaps softened by his kindness with my vivacious sister and the painful look on his face at her kindness in return, I brushed my hand against the back of his.

His face remained stoic but I could have sworn a small lump formed in his throat.

We wandered a few more steps through the garden. He said nothing but, to my surprise, brought the back of his hand back to mine and hooked his pinky with mine.

And gods damn if that didn’t give me butterflies.

“So,” he started, almost coyly. I couldn’t be hearing this correctly. “About that exhibit at Feyre’s gallery?”

“Yes?” I asked.

“Could I-“ he took both of my hands in his, avoiding eye contact at first but finally meeting my gaze. “Would you- like for me to escort you? We could get dinner beforehand.”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A nervous Eris Vanserra. Of all people, he was nervous in front of the female he’d been fucking for two years.

And yet, something sparked within me at the thought.

Feigning shock, I asked: “High Lord, are you asking me on a date?”

The corners of his lips lifted slightly. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Think you can manage not to strike anymore mysterious, shady bargains between now and then?”

“I believe I can manage.” He quipped. That casual irreverence in his tone returning.

“Then yes, Eris, I will. Now you should probably get home before my father comes out and decides to make his brooding everybody’s problem.”

With that he wrapped an arm around my waist as a hand gripped the back of my head, pulling in me tightly. His lips crashed into mine, kissing me passionately. I gasped into it as heat pooled within me, reverent need burning through my veins, urging him to deepen the kiss further.

And as suddenly as he initiated the kiss, he pulled back with a smirk. “See you soon, little Shadowsinger.” and winnowed away.

————————————-

Tags: @b0xerdancer-writes @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin @azrielsmate3 @coolepowersthings @isa1b2h3 @inloveallthetime @julesofvolterra @deeshag @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @courtofbatboydreams

Totally forgot to add the tags when I first posted this (I was half-asleep) Sorry!!

[violetasteracademic]

A Court of Twisted Fate: Multi Chapter Elriel Fic

Summary:

After nearly losing both her sisters once again, Elain Archeron decides to take the growth of her powers into her own hands. Things may not be going as she would have hoped, but when the Crown is stolen, it is finally time for Elain to serve her court and show her family what she can do. The search for the Crown winds up being a job for the seer and the shadowsinger, the male she has fallen for but barely spoken to after an unrequited wish for a kiss. Azriel has been careful to stay away from Elain, trying his best to follow his High Lord's orders. But as they are forced to work together to protect their court, his resolve begins fading more quickly than he can manage. As they search for the Crown, they become trapped in a castle of treachery, vengeance, and twisted fates. If they cannot find their way out of it, they risk becoming lost there forever, or killed. And if they can't keep their hands off each other, they might finally have to face the mountain of obstacles standing in their way at the home that awaits them.

Warnings: Eventual smut and spice

Chapter One Preview: 2,006 words

Elain

Elain Archeron gritted her teeth as silken shafts of sunlight broke through the heavy veil of twilight. She could not tell if it was morning mist or sweat that clung to her lashes as she panted, suddenly overwhelmed with urgency as the light warmed her skin.

No one questioned her on the mornings she departed the river house hours before dawn, claiming she had to start on her work earlier and earlier as the roster of Velaris citizens whose gardens she tended to grew longer and longer.

It was all true enough. She had grown close to her ever-increasing number of gardening clients. Many would often stop to chat and let her know how the blooms were faring as she strode arm in arm with her sisters, Nyx cradled on one of their hips, through the streets of Velaris. This made her story quite believable and easily accounted for.

What she lied about was exactly when she started her workday. And what she was doing in the early hours of the morning. So early the blooms still slept soundly, not yet ready to stretch awake in the sun and be tended to.

Once the first light broke across the horizon every morning, anxiety gnawed at the edges of her mind. She was always a little bit terrified that someone might decide to come check on the townhouse garden one morning and find her there, eyes closed and waving her hands along the ground like a madwoman.

Focus, Elain, she chided herself. Focus.

She listened. She watched. She felt.

The worm she narrowed her sight on came closer and closer to the surface, and Elain readied her small garden shovel.

Velarian earthworms were fully regenerative. She knew that getting it wrong, that being off in her timing and accidentally slicing the poor creature in half would not kill it. But still, it poked little holes in her heart to do such harm. That, and it was another sign of her failure.

Elain’s vision had always worked in peculiar, specific ways. One being that it worked at a distance. Whether it be the distance of time or location, Elain had never been able to see what was right under her nose. Another was that she was not able to control what visions came to her. She had no say in what she saw and when. She could often easily find information when asked but… everything else came in fits and starts, with no rhyme or reason to it.

There were so many things she should have been able to prevent since gaining her sight.

Her father’s death. Briallyn infiltrating the Blood Rite, nearly killing Cassian and Nesta. Nyx, Feyre, and Rhys and their brush with death. Azriel…

No. She would not think about Azriel. There were far greater risks that she needed to be able to detect other than her own bruised heart. She had survived such a thing before, and she would survive it again.

The safety of her court and her family was what mattered most.

So many threats… she wondered if they would ever stop.

And so, she practiced with the earthworms. She tried to cast her sight into the ground and watched as they wriggled their way up.

Time continued to be the issue. If she tracked a worm, and dug her shovel to find nothing there, she had no way of knowing if it was because that worm had not even been born yet and was hundreds of years into the future, or if it was a smaller, slighter miscalculation. For all she knew, she wasn’t seeing anything with her power at all. She may have spent every morning staring at the ground, imagining worms that were merely a product of her desperate mind and in no way an indication of her power.

There was no one to teach her. No one to help her. No other seers that could offer guidance or help her understand.

The answers she had found in the library at the House of Wind yielded disappointing results. Seers where historically kept in the employ of kings and queens and High Lords, treated as oracles. Kept hidden from the world and doomed to a life of predicting the future for anyone who dared ask. Seers, it seemed, lived solely for others. The stories and legends never once seemed to focus on the life of the seers beyond their servitude.

Did they have wants and wishes? Did they dream? Did they… fall in love?

Or had they lived nothing more than a shell of a life? A ghost, a vessel. Watching so many lives and futures unfold over and over again in their minds until they entirely lost sight of the fact that they once were someone. That they, too, had a heart that beat.

Elain heard so many heartbeats. How long until she could no longer determine the cadence of her own among the chorus?

And while she could not confirm it in her research, there didn’t appear to be any indication seers predicted or tried to affect their own future. They simply answered what they were asked. Elain had found that to be true of her own power so far. When Feyre asked her to look for the Suriel, or when Azriel asked deeper questions about Vassa and Koschei, she was able to find the information they asked for without any prior knowledge of how to do so. It was intuitive to find what others needed.

And yet she had questions of her own that needed answers.

She wanted to protect everyone she had ever loved from harm. She wanted a life of her own. A choice in where her life would lead.

And somehow, when she tried to guide herself in the solitude of this garden, she always drew up empty.

She stared at the ground. She tried to feel the worm move as she touched the earth.

Please, she begged silently. Please work today.

She dug her shovel deep into the earth, her eyes pinched closed.

She crumbled the soil in her hand, her lungs stilled in her chest.

Elain slowly peeled her eyes open, her heart hammering and thudding.

Please.

The soil broke down into smaller and smaller sediment, until it all fell from her hands.

Empty.

She bit back a sob as tears began to prick her eyes.

Elain gripped her small shovel and began digging furiously in the soil, desperate for any sign she was close. That she was getting somewhere.

“Please,” she cried aloud this time. Her cheeks heated as she tried to swallow her anguish. She tossed the shovel aside, digging with her bare hands into the earth. She dug and dug until her fingers grew raw and aching. She could not stop the torrent of tears that had broken free from her eyes.

Empty. All of the dirt- completely empty.

She pressed her lips into the crook of her elbow to muffle a heart-piercing scream.

Her hair suddenly began to lift from her face and shoulders, blown this way and that as a cedar and night chilled mist scented wind rushed in. She stiffened, quickly reaching to brush the wet tears from her face. But she halted just in time, realizing her hands and dress sleeves were so thoroughly coated with mud and soil that trying to clear the wet trails staining her cheeks would only serve to make matters worse.

Elain tried to slow her breathing as Azriel appeared before her, eyes boring into her own.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. She was too shocked to see him.

She had to stop herself from falling into that old habit of trying to read him. To see and feel all the words he kept hidden behind that stone cold demeanor. The thoughts tried to rush forward and flood her mind regardless of her attempt to squash them. The slight dilation of his pupils. The tightening of his jaw. A quick, near imperceptible flare of his cobalt siphons.

She shoved the thoughts away. Tried to bury them in the earth beneath her hands, then straightened her back and lifted her chin indignantly.

“What are you doing here?” She couldn’t stop her eyes from drifting to his mouth as his lips pursed.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied coolly.

An ice-cold chill sluiced through her stomach, and her skin paled. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone about the work she had been doing in an attempt to master her powers.

She could have sworn a flicker of guilt flashed across Azriel’s eyes before he said, “I’m here for you.”

The words washed over Elain and the tips of her ears nearly caught fire. Her heart thrashed against her ribcage so violently she was certain Azriel could hear it.

Breathe, she commanded herself. Breathe.

She hadn’t been alone with Azriel in months. Her breath halted as he stepped closer, his eyes darting across her face and down to her hands. To the holes she was digging before she broke apart.

I’m here for you. Was he…

“You are needed at the river house immediately,” he clarified.

“Oh.” The icy water sloshing around Elain’s stomach turned solid, and she dipped her head to hide her mortified flush.

He wasn’t here for her. Not in the way she had hoped. Not in the way she needed.

He was here to retrieve her. That was all.

Foolish. Foolish. Foolish.

“Alright,” she said, brushing the muddy soil caking her hands on her skirts.

Azriel extended a scarred hand to help her up, and she briefly considered not taking it. The last time their skin touched she had nearly gone out of her mind with desire. She had pushed him. Like a woman possessed, she wanted… she needed him to keep touching her. And he…

Well, he hadn’t wanted to.

And he stayed far away from her ever since.

She stared and stared at his hand. Despite her deep embarrassment and shame over how terribly she had wrecked her friendship with Azriel, she could not wave him away.

She knew what it meant to him. She knew how it hurt him when others turned away from his hands. She would not let her own insecurities damage him. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and placed her palm in his.

For a moment, there was a warm familiar spark that had Elain’s skin briefly humming. But Azriel tensed, tightening his grip on her so tightly that she winced and pulled away.

“Sorry,” he murmured, not meeting her gaze. He briefly rubbed his neck, unable to hide a slight grimace.

“It’s fine,” she replied, rubbing her palm and trying not to show her utter devastation. “I can get up on my own. I…” her voice caught in her throat. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”

She began to push herself off the ground, dusting her dress as well as she could as she moved.

“Elain, that isn’t…”

“It’s fine,” she said again as she waved her hand. “Just give me a moment to clean up.”

Azriel nodded tightly. Elain tried not to let her heart sink right into the ground as she began to smooth over the unsightly holes in the ground with the toe of her slipper. Anxiety sank its claws into her mind as Azriel stood stiff muscled behind her.

She hated herself for making him so on edge.

Although she had clearly misinterpreted the meaning of it, she knew that what she and Azriel had shared together was special. The peace and comfort they used to find in each other… that was not imagined. It was real. And maybe… maybe with time they could have it again someday. As friends.

Once she stopped loving him.

Once he could stand being alone without fear she would try to cross another line.

Time. It just needed time. Her garden, her powers, her friendship with Azriel… time would improve it all.

Click here to read the rest of chapter one on AO3!

[lovemyromance]

"The plot of the Gwynriel book will be...

Dual POV where Az & Nesta will go save Dusk Court/Autumn Court/Illyria and Gwyn will tag along as ... their scribe/Azriel's gf (?) Nesta & Azriel will fight with their powers of ... shadows and death(?) and use made weapons Gwyn cannot touch. Then Bard!Gwyn will sing with Azriel and his shadows will dance and she will ... heal his "darkness"... somehow? They will fall in love and Therapist!Gwyn will then have dirty freaky sex with Azriel and tie him up with ribbons while Nesta ... kicks rocks and thinks about how much she misses Cassian? Then, Kinky!Gwyn will descend from the skies on a Pegasus provided to her by Uncle Helion (?) and kiss Azriel on the battlefield and then they will charge into war (?)"

Do I have that right?

Then, once that hot mess of a book is over, the plot of the Elucien book will be...

"Dual POV with Elain and Lucien where we find out Elain has been avoiding Lucien because he truly SEES her and she's madly in love with him already but afraid (?) Lucien will apologize for that tiff with Hybern and Elain will tell him no need to apologize, she is thankful for getting dunked into the cauldron because it gave her her mate 🥹 (?) Then Lucien and Elain will accept the bond, leave the NC and move into the Human Lands where they will spend their days talking about Lucien's relationship with Papa Archeron and bantering with Jassa (?). Elain and Jurian and Vassa will become the new trio of besties-who the fuck are Nougat and Cerluean? She will slowly forget all about her sisters and Nyx and that fuckboi incel Spymaster as she and Lucien heal and grow together (?) Koschei might also show up at one point but don't worry-Lucien, the all powerful son of a HL will defeat him by himself, as nobody was there to help Elain train her Seer powers and she is NOT a warrior, you guys 🙄 Vassa will be free, and then somehow Helion will die (sad) and Lucien will become HL of Day. Then he and Elain will move to the day court where she will get plenty of sunlight and live happily ever after as the pretty prize for poor baby lulu who has suffered so much 🤩"

Wow, so much to cover in just two books? How will Sarah ever write such an enthralling plot?

[seleneprince]

When the Vanserra-Archeron twins find out that Nyx is courting their beloved friend, Zinnia (Tamlin's daughter), they're not amused at all. Specially Sylvie.

She doesn't care about her cousin, has a borderline hostile dynamic with him, but for the most part he's just "that guy from Night Court she happens to share blood with". Neth is on better terms with him and she doesn't mind spending time with him, but they're not close enough to see him as family. She considers him more a long-distance friend.

Meanwhile, they adore Zinnia. They grew up with her. She's their godfather's daughter, their beloved Uncle Tamlin. They spent their childhoods jumping from Spring to Autumn frecuently just to see each other. They love like her a sister. Their families are on the same circle. In their eyes, Zinnia has always been this sweet girl they must protect and who only deserves the best.

Which it's not Nyx Archeron. Or any other brute from the Night Court. They're sure of it.

It's not just them. Literally, no one in their circle approves of this possible union, except Elain (because she knows things). Both Eris and Nesta are amused by the whole mess but he doesn't think they fit together and she doesn't want her to be at the Night Court . Lucien doesn't like it at all and neither do his and Elain's kids. And let's not get started on poor Tamlin, having to see his exes' spawn court his precious daughter so insistently.

Back at the Night Court, it's more or less the same situation. Rhysand is the only person that openly supports his son on this and even gives him advice on how to woo the girl (which is awful advice because he only tells him to do the same things he did with feyre, ignoring that not everyone enjoys those as much as she did). Feyre doesn't understand why he's so enthusiastic about becoming family with Tamlin. The rest of the IC know where Rhysand is coming from and don't dare tell Feyre the truth...

[wingsdippedingold]

The purpose of the mating bond (TL;DR at the bottom)

I was thinking about the mating bond (and consequently how much I hate it) and I started wondering about it's purpose. Apologies: This is barely organized rambling.

Our current explanations are: to create the most powerful offspring, and that the mates are perfect equals. We know its not romance since there are examples of unhappy mates so I'm ignoring that.

Rhysand suspected he was Feyre's mate while she was still human, aka before she was a high fae, and they were still mated after she was. This means that the bond doesn't care about physical bodies, which would play a part in powerful children since fae are just supposed to be so much better than humans in EVERY WAY. Therefore it had nothing do with offspring, but knowing SJM Nyx is gonna be even more powerful as an adult because her favs need to be worshipped like gods.

If the purpose was to create the most powerful offspring that wouldn't even work logistically? The two most powerful beings being mated would work, but everyone after that, not so much. Its kinda weird to explain so imagine 4 fae, their power ranking aligning with their number. 1 & 2 are mated because as the most powerful, their children would then also be the most powerful. With Rhys logic, 3 & 4 would be mated. But 3 & 4 child would be much less powerful than a 1 & 3 child, so that mate bond wouldn't produce the most powerful offspring. Of course the mother could just go by pairing the next most powerful people, but we've seen examples where even then that's not what happens. Of course unique combinations of genes could lead to powerful kids without the need of powerful parents, but considering Rhysand's high lord father was mated with an average Illyrian mother, that doesn't always seem to be the case.

Okay so power aside, the other explanation is that the two mates are two equal halves. Sure? I guess? But that seems to be a product of being mated rather than the reason. Rhysand's parents had huge power imbalances and their personalities didn't mesh. Sure, you could be equal without compatible personalities but power and livelihood? I find it hard to believe.

The mating bond is so inconvenient for it to be a reasonable way of getting any offspring produced in the first place. Rhysand and Cassian were both mated to people from the human world, of course those humans came to the fae world so their mating bond lines up with fate. BUT. They went 500 years without a mate just to end up with 20 yr old women as mates? Same thing with Rhysand's parents. A 900 YEAR OLD MAN AND A 19 YEAR OLD WOMAN. WHAT THE FUCK. High fae rarely leave their courts too, and considering everyone supposedly has a mate, most of their mates would be in other courts, whom they'll never meet. The fate argument that works for Feysand and Cassian fails here, because a mating bond being found is so incredibly rare (except for the fact all three archeron sisters found theirs) that it has nothing to do with fate and circumstance.

Nessian. I hate it with my entire heart. Their ENTIRE romance plot was Cassian domesticating Nesta. He consistently abused and ridiculed her, but Oh! They're mates! So it's out of love! Get out. Pack your 50 shades of domestic violence and get out. That man bitch laughed at her as she fell down the stairs, locked her in a house, insulted and made fun of her regularly, and lusted after her emaciated body while she was clearly struggling. He does not give a fuck about Nesta. They were happy at the end! SO WHAT. That doesn't change the way he acted. She kept pushing away his advances and he didn't not care. The same goes for Feysand but I've already discussed them enough.

Considering all of this, I have come to a conclusion!

SJM used the mating bond as an excuse to not have to write compelling romances that actually make sense and instead a fast track to poor fairy porn and her kinks.

[dreamlandreader]

Sick Day

I have no idea if fae can catch colds/the flu but I’m currently stuck in bed sick so this is my comfort fic 🥲 It isn’t edited because I just wanted to get the idea out of my head, so apologies for any mistakes ❤️

Warnings: Flu, none graphic discussion of flu symptoms, and stubborn Illyrian babies

Feyre Archeron was feeling incredibly smug. She and her mate had somehow managed to survive their son’s first exposure to the flu unscathed. 

Poor Nyx had unfortunately become sick after a play date, so Feyre and Rhysand had spent the past week knee-deep in used tissues and providing endless hugs and kisses to their crying toddler, who didn’t quite understand why he couldn’t stop coughing.

For the first time in almost five days, Nyx had felt well enough to play with his toys on the living room carpet, and that’s where Feyre left him under the dutiful watch of his Auntie Elain while she wandered upstairs to join Rhys in their shared office. 

Her smile faltered, however, the second she stepped through the door to the office and came face to face with her mate. 

Rhys’s usually impeccable style was now far more dishevelled than she was used to seeing. His shirt was buttoned incorrectly, his hair was sticking up as though he had run his hands through it in frustration far too many times, and his perfect nose was looking rather red. 

It was then that a single sniffle signalled trouble.

“Love, are you okay?” Feyre asked tentatively, knowing her eldest Illyrian baby would likely be the most challenging to handle when sick. 

‘Yes darling, I’m absolutely-” Rhys broke off, falling into a fit of sneezes and released a slight groan before continuing. “Fine. I’m absolutely fine,” 

“No offence, but you look awful. Why don’t you take a break? Go back to bed. I can finish up whatever you’re doing.” 

“Okay, ouch! Plenty of offence taken. I’m fine. I’m the most powerful high lord. I don’t need to take a break because of the sniffles,” Rhys scoffed before he again began to sneeze uncontrollably. 

Deciding it was not worth an argument so early in the day, Feyre settled down at her own desk and began to tackle her looming pile of paperwork, desperately trying to block out her husband’s endless coughing. Feyre’s resolve to leave Rhys to it lasted precisely twenty-two minutes before his sniffling drove her so mad that she slammed her pen down and stormed over to his desk. 

“I love you so much, Rhysand, but if you sneeze one more time and refuse to go to bed, I will lose it!” 

“Feyre, I can’t!” 

“Why?” Feyre practically yelled, “Because of your paperwork? Do you think me so incapable as a High Lady that I cannot sign a few papers and get to grips with our court’s laws?” 

“No! It’s not that, and you very well know it,” he argued, incensed that his wife would assume he thought of her as anything less than the most competent of beings. 

Sighing, Rhys put his head in his hands and seemed to steady himself before making an important admission. 

“I cannot go to bed because he will never let it go.” 

“What? Who?” 

“Cassian!” 

Rhys finally looked up at his wife and met her confused gaze. His beautiful face was full of something Feyre had never seen take over her mate’s expression before. Embarrassment. Rhysand was- well, he was blushing. 

“Around my 400th birthday, I contracted a pretty bad case of the flu. My bones ached every time I moved, my head hurt, I couldn’t stop coughing and sneezing, and frankly, I felt dire. So, for the first time ever, I took the day off. I sent word to Cassian that I wouldn’t be at training that morning because I was under the weather, and him being the concerned idiot he is, he turned up thinking I was on my deathbed. When he ran into my bedroom and found me with two chunks of toilet paper stuffed up my nose and an eye mask on to block out the sunlight, well, I’ve never seen him laugh quite so hard. And he has never let it go.” Rhys said, rolling his eyes. 

“The great Rhysand,” he exclaimed, deepening his voice to match the grit of his brother’s vocal range. “The most powerful fae in Prythian’s history, taken down by a gnarly cold!”

Feyre’s frown disappeared, replaced by a look of sympathy and understanding. Sitting gently on his lap, Feyre took Rhys’s face in her hands and looked deep into his violet eyes. 

“He doesn’t mean anything by it, and it doesn’t upset me by a long shot,” Rhys laughed to himself, “but if I have to go another century listening to his sarcastic comments about it, I may commit murder.” 

“So you’re not going to take a break because your stupid, stubborn ass is too full of pride.” Feyre queried. 

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” Rhys shrugged. 

“Rhys!” Feyre scolded, playfully tapping his shoulder. 

“Look, why don’t you just go to bed. Cass is busy the next few days anyway; he doesn’t need to find out where you are. It can be our little secret.” Slowly, Feyre could sense her mate coming around to the idea, and she had one more trick up her sleeve.

“I’ll even stay with you if that will convince you. We can have a day in bed together. Just relax, the two of us.” Feyre suggested, a sly glint in her eye as she ran her fingers up and down Rhysand’s tattooed arm. 

“Feyre, we’re already so far behind,” Rhys interrupted, shivering under his mate’s touch. 

“It will wait, Rhys. And anything in that pile that can’t, we can delegate to Mor and Amren. They’ll be happy to help,” 

“Fine. I’ll agree to one day in bed. On the condition that nobody ever finds out. Oh, and that you stay with me.” Rhys agrees, squeezing Feyre’s hip. 

Dragging Rhysand by the hand to their bedroom, Feyre sent a message to her sister informing her that she and Rhys were snowed under with work and asking if she would mind taking Nyx out for the rest of the day. After receiving a reply from Elain that she would happily take her nephew for the afternoon, Feyre settled in bed with Rhysand, pulling him into her chest and stroking his hair in a bid to help him fall asleep. She found success within ten minutes as her mate drifted into a secure slumber. 

A week later …

“Oh, by the way, I contacted Tarquin about renewing our trade agreement, and he said he is happy to sign the contract again under the same terms as last time if that is what you both wish, of course,” Mor stated, looking towards her High Lord and Lady. 

“I thought you were dealing with the trade agreements alone these days, Rhys?” Azriel questioned, unable to leave his inner spy at the door, even if it was family night. 

“I am. I just needed a little extra help this week after being so busy taking care of Nyxie the week before,” 

“That’s right, little buddy, you were sick, weren’t you,” Cassian said to the young Illyrian perched on his lap, ruffling his hair and making him giggle. 

“Yep. I was sneezy, and I threwed up.” 

“Lovely,” Amren cringed from the other end of the table. 

“Daddy was sneezy, too, but he didn’t throw up. He sleeped a lot. Mama pet him like a puppy, and he feeled better.” 

The table erupted with laughter at the image of the High Lord of the Night Court being stroked like a dog. Rhysand sank in his seat and gave Feyre a pointed stare that said, “I told you so!”

“Oops,” Nyx cried after seeing his father’s strange reaction, “I member now Mama said I was meant to keep that a secret.” Nyx covered his mouth in surprise and looked towards his mother with shame in his eyes. 

“It’s okay, baby, it was an accident,” Feyre replied and opened her arms for her son to crawl into. 

“Did you- did you check him for fleas before you let him into your bed, Feyre.” Cassian howled, wiping tears from his eyes while meeting Rhysand’s glare. 

“Ha ha, very funny. Have you had your fill now?” Rhys quipped.

Cassian opened his mouth again to fling another joke Rhysand’s way but was interrupted by his own inability to avoid letting out a very dramatic sneeze, swiftly followed by three more. 

Shock filled Cassian’s face, and his smirk dropped. He took one panicked look at Rhysand, who was holding in his laughter, before looking to Feyre who was wearing her own wicked smile as she handed him a tissue and calmly stated, “Good luck, Lord of Bloodshed.” 

[herharmonyenemy]

ACOTAR Headcanons

Rhys: 

Has had a skincare routine since he was a teenager. His mother taught him. 

And hair care (gels n everything)

Has like 15 university diplomas. 

Waxes. 

Has the highest bodycount. Everyone wanted to sleep with the crown prince (then highlord), and being as arrogant as he was, knew he had the females (and males) head over heels for him.

Plays piano because he’s a rich spoiled old money kid

To this day he sometimes blurts out some unchecked spoiled comment without realizing it. Cassian punches him as part of the deal. Once the archerons caught on, they also take turns. 

He once got a face piercing (nose/lips) just to spite his father. He got punished but kept it until he became highlord. 

Did a lot of things to spite his father actually. Including but not limited to: growing his hair out, dying his hair, getting a diploma in something not very legacy/bloodline like (sports medicine?), painted his nails (black ofc), got drunk in poor people bars like Nesta (when she learns about this…), and started wearing his shirts open to show his chest (which stuck until present day). 

Does in fact read smut. The best way for him to learn is by reading, so teenage rhys decided to read about sex to be better. It worked, but he got an interest in smut and still reads from time to time. Nesta never lets him live it down for the rest of their lives. 

Is the kind of person to correct your spelling and grammar. However, someone once did it to feyre and he responded that as the person to teach her to read, he is the one to correct her. 

Gift giving is his love language. 

Would watch game of thrones in modern and criticize every move. 

Doesn’t know how to do any chores. Feyre forces him to learn 

Doesn’t like animals only because he formed a bond with a dog when he was younger and when something happened (died/ran away) he cried and his dad told him to man up and it’s only a dog 

Out of all the highlords, he’s the worst at controlling his beast once it’s out but he’s the best at keeping it in 

Knows other languages (as hofas proved)

Is actually religious. 

Is a clean freak. Doesn’t even sit on the bed with his everyday work clothes unless sheet are already going to be changed. 

Had a stuffed animals that he brought to the Illyrian camps when he was 8. Cas learned and threw it off a cliff. Cas gave another stuffie for rhys’s 18 birthday, which was put on a shelf for the next 5 centuries. Nyx now plays with it. 

Picky about food. Feyre jokes that it’s a red flag. Once Rhys learn human slang and what a red flag is, he fixes it. Although Feyre laughs when he makes a face at the brussels sprouts.

Gets his fashion sense from his father, who also likes high quality pieces. 

Also gets his eyes from his father. 

Has toxic dating history that az and cas disapprove and hate 

He was like Simon from Bridgerton as a child: He learned to speak very late, which is why his father was borderline abusive and didn’t pay attention to him. He didn’t learn to speak until right before he went to the camps. Only amren knows, but rhys told feyre after nyx was born. 

Actually the nerd of the group but he hides it 

Wins the prize for best mouth action

Insecure about his ears since he grew up around Illyrians 

The first to learn how to tie shoes, so he was the designated shoe tie-er. Many jokes were made about the crown prince on his knees, mainly through Cas.

Az:

least body count - but he could actually hold a relationship for longer then one night.

As we already know, the kindest bat boy

Trims. 

Also got piercings with rhys so he wouldn’t be alone. 

Writes in all caps 

Doodles when he’s doing something on autopilot 

Knows hand placement 

Drinks way too much coffee

Had the most pimples as a teenager. 

He was the most romantic out of the three. While cas and rhys were going through their “never getting married, forever the bachelor life” phase, az was still after romance. 

Loves bread 

Loves loves loves traveling 

Is good at gymnastics 

Very good at winged eyeliner. When it’s eyeliner time, everyone goes to either az or feyre

Wins the price for best downstairs action

Likes watching the sunset

Always wins the scavenger hunts cas organizes 

Cas: 

once had a buzz cut. Happened because of a dare but he ended up being fine with it. 

Au natural

Has worst handwriting but doesn’t care. Rhys complains that it’s so bad he can’t read it (he can) 

Wears a chain necklace from time to time. After mating, he doesn’t take it off. (Nesta likes when it swings in her face) 

Out of the three, has the highest rice purity score. Az is kinky, and rhys is up for anything. 

Makes the most dad jokes 

LOVES fruits. And veggies. Eats the healthiest out of the three. 

Morning person. He used to wake up rhys and az at the crack of dawn to go hiking. 

He has a hair care routine - more complicated than rhys. Those locks aren’t just magically there. He oils his hair at least once a week. 

Wins the prize for best hand action 

Insecure about his nose 

Best at making scavenger hunts 

Has slow metabolism so whenever he eats really fast he falls asleep right after the energy high

Once used az’s toothbrush to annoy him, ended up using rhys’s. Being the clean freak he is, this started a war among them. 

100% takes dramatic showers like those scenes in movies

All three: 

on the camp, there was another trio that was everything they weren’t (pure blood illyrians from a noble line, got favored). The day comes when those three meet the archerons and the girls think they just want to be friends and the boys get jealoussss

Rhys takes them shopping. He’s up on the mini stage getting measured and tailored and cas is drinking on a couch. This is their gossip and complain time. 

They all speak Illyrian when they want to speak secretly. They never taught mor no matter how many times she asked because “it is a boys club” thing 

The archerons catch on and they eventually learn with help from bat boys, who then momentarily regret it because they don’t have a secret language anymore, but it’s the archerons who know crack the dirtiest jokes in Illyrian. 

When they were younger, they would share notes via this charmed journal that would winnow to whichever one wanted to write in it. Centuries later one of the archerons finds it and the boys jump over each other to get it from the girls cause it’s filled with teenaged thoughts (another headcanon)

They have a synchronized dance 

They used to have beach days but gradually stopped. They started again once the sisters said they have never been to the beach

They used to share a bed when they were younger. It was a hard fit, but rhys slept in the middle since he can disappear his wings. 

Cas and az didn’t leave rhys alone the first week he was highlord. Even in moments of silence. One of them was always within arms reach

They slap each others butt. At first it was a joke, but it became a competition of who could surprise slap the hardest. 

Once, az’s ex made moves on rhys, and rhys took the chance. This lead to the biggest fight between the two (up until the elain situation) until cas asked if they were going to let a girl get in between them. They made up and the next day rhys found out she was only with him for the power. Az comforted him when he cried. 

Engaged in locker room talk. Shared tips on sex. 

Rhys and az wear eyeliner/kohl on special but informal parties. Cas always smudges it so he’s quit. 

[dawneternal]

Take the World in Your Hands | Eris x Elain | Four

Summary: Eris's brothers catch wind of his proposal to Nesta. They plan to find and deliver her to their father as a gift, surely winning his favor. Their plan takes a turn when they kidnap the wrong Archeron sister and Eris finds her in the Autumn Court dungeon.

all aboard the crack ship???

Notes: it's the shopping episode!! 🛍️💅 Also I discovered dividers. This one is by cozykitsune

Warnings: none for this part

Word Count: 2.5k

Ao3 link / Masterlist

When Elain woke in the morning, Eris was frying pancakes in the kitchen. Shirtless and barefoot, which seemed very unsafe but admittedly nice to look at. It was a good sign, as well, that the balm had done it's job. The smattering of bruises seemed to be mostly gone, only a few smudges of color ghosting his shoulders.

"Eat up! Long day of shopping ahead," Eris sang, gesturing to the full plate of pancakes and eggs on the kitchen table.

A mug of hot cider sat beside it, and Elain eyed it suspiciously, wondering if he had somehow sensed her dream. Nevertheless, he seemed very chipper this morning and it was a pleasant change from the awkwardness of last night.

Elain savored the pancakes, a little hum of satisfaction escaping with the first bite. Food in Velaris was delicious, but the variation of another court's flavors was a nice change.

"You didn't have to sleep in your dress," Eris said, joining her at the table, "I'm sure the tunic was more comfortable."

"Is that what your guests do? Sleep in your shirts?" Elain looked up at him through her lashes as she took another bite, "I did notice you don't have any nightgowns."

Eris suppressed a grin. Somehow, no one else had figured out that little scheme. Or at least, no one had said anything.

"You don't seem to be a morning person," He said, instead of answering.

"Oh, I am, actually. I love the early morning. But I watch Nyx so often that I've more or less adapted to his schedule, and he definitely takes after his father." Elain sipped her cider, relishing the spices that lingered on her tongue.

"Poor little fellow," Eris clicked his tongue, shaking his head in mock sympathy.

Elain emerged from the washroom, dressed, groomed, and bathed. She had decided she liked the cut of Autumn Court dresses. Comfortable, modest, and delicately adorned with embroidery and beads. She had chosen a warm burnt orange and admired the way it complimented the honey-brown of her hair. Eris resisted the urge to tell her exactly how well the wardrobe of his court suited her. Or that he wished she'd wear her hair down, as was the current fashion in Autumn.

Instead, he held out a wine colored-coat for her to slip on, and tucked a knitted scarf around her collar. She found the matching mittens and and hat stuffed into the pockets and tugged those on as well.

"Ready," She said, a little bit muffled behind her layers. He couldn't help his grin then.

Eris began to put on his own coat, but stopped and let out a hiss of pain.

"Are you okay?" Elain's brows knit together.

"I'm alright," He sighed, "Just stretched a little too far on my bad side."

Elain took his coat from his hands and helped him into it, fastening each wooden button for him. He gave her a grateful smile and led her out of the cabin, away toward the edge of the wards. When Elain turned around, the cabin had disappeared. There was not even a clearing where it should be. Nothing but a tiny gap in the trees.

"Neat trick, no?" Eris eyes sparkled.

Elain placed a mittened hand on his arm and looked up at him with furrowed brows. "Are you sure you're up for winnowing?"

"Yes, dear," Eris smiled, "I'll be alright. Not all of us have wings to take us where we wish, anyways."

"How is it so cold here, if we're in Autumn?" She asked, ignoring the pet name. But she did take the hand he held out to her.

"We're very close to the Winter border. Hazelbury is the last Autumn village before the Winter Court border. Its higher up here, so it snows during cold snaps. Ready?"

"Ready."

Elain gripped his hand tight as they winnowed. She was grateful for the barrier of their mittens and gloves, but she could still feel his warmth radiating through her.

They landed among the trees, bits of loose snow falling onto them from above.

"Alright?" Eris asked, brushing snowflakes from her eyebrows. Elain looked up at him and started, forgetting that the plan had been to glamour them both. He was unrecognizable, his red hair now deep brown, the angle of his nose smoothed, his skin clear of freckles. The fire was gone from his eyes. A little ruby teardrop dangled from one ear, as if to compensate for the missing warmth.

"I stole a description from a Sellyn Drake novel," Eris gave her a crooked smile.

"How do you know Sellyn Drake?" Elain laughed. Her eyes drifted to the bustling village ahead of them, a blur of colors and motion. The murmur was pleasant, frequent laughter rising up from it.

"My observational skills are excellent," He said, "And how do you know Sellyn Drake?"

"Am I glamoured?" Elain dodged yet another of his questions, bringing her fingers to her nose to feel it's shape.

"A little, you'll see." Eris started toward the village path, stepping high through the snow. Elain was grateful for her the heavy boots and wool socks she'd been given. The cabin truly seemed to hold everything one could need.

"What do you usually call yourself when you come here?"

"I've never needed to come up with a name. What about you? What would you like to be called today?"

"I suppose I'll think of one in the moment if it comes up," Elain said, blushing at the improper answers that had come to her. None of which she planned on ever uttering out loud.

The bustling crowd flowed around them as they stood on the edge of the cobblestone street - presumably the main street. Worn buildings popped up all around, their once-colorful roofs spreading as far as the eye could see. Lanterns hung from the awnings, and strings of fae-lights wove back and forth overhead, illuminating window displays filled with lovely things.

"General store first," Eris said, pressing a guiding hand to the small of her back. He led her inside one of the wooden buildings, warm air greeting them in the doorway. He gave Elain a smile and nodded toward the displays. "Pick whatever you want."

So, Elain took her time studying the displays as Eris made polite conversation with the shop keeper. She felt a little pang of guilt as she came across a box of pencils in an autumn color scheme that Feyre would surely love. She wasn't even sure if her sister would accept a gift from the Autumn Court, anyways, judging by her reaction to Elain's note. And Nesta was not supposed to know she was here, so she couldn't pick a gift for her, either.

Instead, she picked for herself a maple sugar candy to try, and a few varieties of seeds she had never seen. Perhaps someday, when things were different, she could return with her sisters and shop with them.

Elain dared not make the comparison aloud again, but Eris's shopping habits were very similar to Rhys's. He encouraged her to pick something at nearly every shop they stopped in, claiming it was necessary for the "full Autumn Court experience."

By the time they had made it to the dress shop, his arms were full of bags with handmade cheese and bread, fresh flowers, books, and  candy. Half were recommendations or gifts from the shop keepers, all of whom seemed to recognize and greet him eagerly. Naturally, Elain began to wonder how often he did this and how often he needed to visit the safe house.

The dress shop was no different. Eris flopped down into a chair at the front of the store, letting his arms rest from carrying the heavy bags. A short, older women scurried to greet him.

"Ezra, my love," She cried, planting a kiss on his cheek.

An involuntary, shit-eating grin spread across Elain's face. Eris flashed her a warning look. So he had chosen his name him a Sellyn Drake novel, as well.

"What brings you in today?" The woman asked after she had finished fussing over him.

"My lady is to accompany me to an event in a few days," He gestured to Elain, who blushed and nodded in greeting, "Do you have anything that we could take with us today?"

"Of course," The woman cried, placing a hand over her chest. Her enthusiasm was rather infectious. "I will find a few sections for you."

"I do hope she brings something scandalous," Eris grinned, leaning back in his chair as if it were a throne, crossing one leg over the other.

"I will not wear anything scandalous unless you agree to show just as much skin as I do," Elain retorted.

Eris tipped his head back and laughed. He seemed so at ease here, pretending to be someone else. Someone proud of his court, enjoying a day of leisure in a tourist town. It made Elain's chest ache for him.

The seamstress returned and beckoned Elain to a dressing room. She seemed baffled by Elain's insistence that she could dress by herself, but left her alone nonetheless. It did not escape her that the woman had never asked for her name, leading her to wonder how much she really knew about Eris. How much she knew about guests that must remain anonymous.

The first time Elain looked in the mirror it startled her. She forgot Eris had glamoured her, though the changes were not as drastic as his. The curve of her nose and lips had tilted, eyebrows thicker and straighter, and her eyes shifted more towards a solid green than her own hazel. It was unsettling, though the girl who stared back at her was pretty.

Elain had planned to show each choice to Eris and let him choose. It was his money, after all. But she lost her nerve after slipping the first dress over her head. A moss green silk gown with cut outs around the waist and translucent gossamer sleeves. The skirt hugged her hips and flared out at the knees, a train of shining fabric falling behind her. It was beautiful and skillfully made. But she was not brave enough for the plunging neckline and skin-tight bodice.

She made her way through the rack of dresses, each one-of-a-kind in some gorgeous jewel toned fabric. When she found one that she loved, it took her a long moment of staring in the mirror until she gathered enough courage to leave the dressing room.

It was not anything as revealing as her sisters might choose, but it was tighter and showier than anything she'd normally go for. The plum-colored velvet gown had a full shirt with slits up each side, inching dangerously high on her thighs. The bodice laced up like a corset, the square neckline framing her cleavage with shimmering golden lace. Over the whole gown, swirls of beadwork caught the light and glowed like gemstones. The back dipped low, threatening to expose the dimples at the end of her spine.

"Well?" Elain appeared before Eris, wringing her hands in nervousness.

Eris's eyes snapped up from the newspaper in his lap, his gaze dragging slowly down her body. As if memorizing every detail. He swallowed hard before clearing his throat and announcing, "It's perfect."

Elain padded to stand before the mirror. Eris appeared behind her, dutifully clasping his hands behind his back.

"And what do you think?" He asked, eyeing her furrowed brow.

"It's a bit more...scandalous than I'd usually choose," She said, turning to side and letting the slit in the skirt expose the length of her leg.

"Well we are hoping to cause a bit of a scandal, no?" He flashed a wild, crooked grin.

"I suppose you'll be baring your back in solidarity?" Elain watched him in the mirror, his eyes drifting up and down her form.

"As I promised." Eris laughed, "Now you just need a dagger to match. There's a shop a few doors down-"

"No," The words came out before Elain knew she had wanted to say them. "I want it to be yours."

Eris's eyebrows arched high, a little of his glamour fell and let a few flames through. They burned into her, blush creeping across her chest under the golden lace.

"I want the dagger to be yours. I want to-to have something of yours," Elain stammered.

Eris's eyes were on hers in the reflection. She watched them darken, a muscle in his jaw twitching. One of his hands, despite his best efforts to behave, reached out to rest on her exposed thigh, fingers brushing just underneath the velvet fabric.

"I'll give you a dagger of mine," He purred into her ear, deep voice rumbling in his chest, "if you'll promise to wear it here."

Elain's stomach fluttered, skin heating under his touch.

"Promise," She whispered.

"Go change, little dove," Eris whispered, giving her a gentle nudge.

It took her just a moment to return to herself, to resist the urge to lean her back against him and let his lips brush her neck. Perhaps they would, before their time together was over. And perhaps she was terrible and wicked for wishing such a thing. She moved towards the dressing room as if in a trance.

Elain managed to collect herself before returning to Eris, shoving down the butterflies in her stomach and fanning her face to cool her skin. Eris stood at the counter chatting with the seamstress, No sign of the hunger that had gripped his features before. They had found a pair of matching shoes and enchanted them to fit Elain's size.

"Eris," Elain said as they gathered their bags and boxes.

"Yes?"

"You are not buying me anything else today."

"I refuse to be ashamed of my love for buying things," He proclaimed, "Just dinner, and then we go home."

"Just dinner," Elain repeated firmly.

"And maybe dessert," He grinned.

"Eris," Elain groaned at him but he just smirked.

Eris took her to the edge of a village, leading her to a restaurant with walls of full-length windows. The waiter led them to their own room in the back, a cozy booth tucked into an alcove of glass. A little faelight, encased in a dome of glass, sat on the center of the table. The heavy snowflakes just outside caught the light and glittered as they fell.

"My favorite thing about this place," Eris said after the waiter had left them, "Is that they decide your order for you and have it sent to your table. You don't have to talk to anyone for your whole meal."

Eris tapped the faelight on the table and two mugs of hot chocolate materialized, garnished with whipped cream and chocolate snowflakes.

Elain's heart hammered in her chest. Of course, he had to look gorgeous in the dim light, every handsome characteristic accentuated by the fae light. He had dropped his disguise, the full force of his beauty hitting her like a rough wave. He smiled like he knew what she was thinking, and Elain wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing that no one would return to wait their table. No buffer for her to insist on propriety in front of.

Because the most troubling thing of this whole ordeal was how easy it all was. Easy to talk, easy to flirt, and so very easy to want him. 

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter ix - gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,000+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

For being one of the strongest High Fae currently alive, Feyre was still huffing quite a lot up the steep hill. 

Y/N had tried to sneak out to go on another one of her hikes. The sneaking was due to her knowing no one would let her go alone after what happened with Cassian and Nyx. But that was exactly why she wanted to go alone: so no one else could be put in danger. 

However, Feyre had been visiting the House of Wind, on the hunt for her sister, when she crossed paths with Y/N. 

The High Lady had insisted on joining Y/N for her hike, choosing a very different trail and a completely different woods than where she had been attacked. 

“You alright?” Y/N asked with a teasing tone. 

Feyre glared at her. “I understand the benefits and joy of a hike. But why are we sprinting?”

Y/N shrugged. “Part fresh air, part endurance training.”

“I used to hunt in the woods, back in the mortal lands. Started when I was just a child. But I was slow and quiet.”

“I see,” Y/N took in the bit of information. Feyre didn’t talk much about her time as a mortal. It didn’t seem like a taboo subject. Perhaps her happiness with the present made her dwell on the past very little. “Hunting is quite different than hiking.” 

Then Y/N paused and smirked at the High Lady over her shoulder and teased, “Maybe you should spend some time training with the Valkyries…”

Feyre laughed, but shook her head. “That is Nesta’s domain, her sisterhood. I dare not intrude on it. I train still, just not with them.” 

For some reason, the response triggered Y/N to think about the third Archeron sister. She knew the least of Elain, but enough to know she was not a warrior. Y/N had never seen the middle sister train, and rarely did she ever leave the River House. 

“I met Lucien the other day,” Y/N blurted out. 

It was enough for Feyre to stop in her tracks. 

Feyre gave a short nod. “Rhysand said Azriel mentioned him stopping by your shop.”  

Y/N continued hiking, but slowed down the pace to make it easier for them to converse. “I did not realize Elain had a…mate.” 

“We once called ourselves friends, Lucien and I. But I’m not sure what we are anymore. I should say I feel like I’m stuck between the two of them. But Lucien rarely has the courage to ask me about Elain. And my sister likes to pretend Lucien doesn’t exist.” 

Y/N was silent for a moment, trying to tread the topic carefully, but still wanting her curiosities answered. “I just thought…from what I know of mates – you and Rhys, Nesta and Cassian…”

Feyre gave her a sympathetic look. “Mating bonds are…peculiar things. To some, they create soulmates.”

“Like you and Rhys.”

Feyre nodded. “But to others, it’s just two puzzle pieces finally being put together. Nothing more – no connection, not emotions. Bonds not always equate to love. Sometimes it’s the Cauldron telling us that two people would simply create superior offspring.” 

“You make it sound so…cold.” 

Feyre nodded again. “My sister…she would have never chosen the life she’s been given. Elain thought she was in love – and perhaps she was. But she was turned fae against her will. And the next moment: a stranger confessed that they were bond together – all while she still wore her engagement ring to a mortal, who hated what she became.” 

Poor Elain, Y/N thought. “Is he so horrible that she won’t even give him a chance?” 

“Lucien is not horrible. He has made great mistakes…but…he is a good male.” 

Y/N processed that. The wind had told her of his lost lover, of being forced to watch her get murdered by his family and court. How could Eris have watched such a thing and not intervened? But the wind did confess that it was Eris who helped his youngest brother escape Autumn Court and seek sanctuary in Spring Court. 

“He seemed surprised that Eris knew me, that he had saved me and brought me here.”

Feyre’s body stiffened at the slight change of subject. 

“Does he not know that Eris wishes to take the throne from their father?” 

Feyre took in a slow breath. “It is best that you do not speak of Eris’ plans for his court.” 

“Does he know that Lucien is not his father’s son? Is he not the bastard child of Helion Spellcleaver?” 

Y/N realized by the High Lady’s reaction that she just spoke an even more dangerous piece of information.

It wouldn’t be the first time the winds had gotten her in trouble with sharing such secrets. 

“Y/N,” Feyre’s voice was so serious that it caused a chill to go down Y/N’s spine. “You must never speak of that to anyone.”

“Lucien does not know,” Y/N whispered in realization. 

“No. And I do not believe Helion knows either,” Feyre added. “The Lady of Autumn has kept her son’s secret close to her heart – to keep him alive, I imagine.” 

Y/N knows of Lucien’s true parentage, Feyre spoke to Rhysand through their minds. 

But Rhysand only seemed amused, Who knew the winds could be so troublesome? 

She seems rather curious about Elain and Lucien’s bond, Feyre added. Should we tell her? She deserves to know about Eris. 

We cannot, Rhys answered immediately. We promised him we wouldn’t. 

Feyre grew frustrated in her mates head, She will be just as angry as I was. But furthermore, she will be confused. She will not understand it like I had. He is not her kind. 

He does not wish for her to know. Beron is still a risk to her. It is not our place, Feyre darling. 

Feyre cut off the connection, further proving her growing frustration. 

“You alright?” Y/N asked. 

Feyre just nodded. “Damn your hikes.” 

–––––

A week later, Y/N was cleaning around her shop. She was gaining more and more customers to her surprise – and also delight. She was even receiving custom orders, which meant more and more late nights spent casting and brewing.

The other night, Cassian had even found her passed out on top of her workshop table. 

But now, Y/N was surprised to see a familiar redhead standing before her. 

“Lucien!” she greeted cheerfully, trying not to immediately think of her conversation with Feyre about his failed bonding with Elain.

“Change your mind about that love potion?” She took a risk, teasing him on such a subject. 

But to her relief, Lucien laughed. “No. Not yet, at least. I came to thank you for your…”

“Merchandise?” Y/N offered innocently.

Lucien smiled so charmingly that it was hard to believe someone like Elain wouldn’t at least give this male a chance. 

Y/N crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side. “And it worked?”

But she knew her magic wouldn’t fail. 

Lucien blushed and nodded. “I can’t explain it entirely. But I…felt so much lighter. I haven’t slept that well in a century.” 

She smirked proudly and even stood straighter. “If you have trouble with sleeping, you should have told me. I have dozens of remedies for that.” 

“Now you are just boasting.” 

Y/N shrunk at such a comment, “I do not mean to, I promise.” 

Lucien gave her a soft smile. 

“I did not expect to see you back so soon,” Y/N changed the subject. “Feyre says Rhysand keeps you quite busy as an emissary of this court…” 

“Yes. He’s kept me very busy. But I spend a lot of time in the mortal realm with a couple of friends. And one of them wished to try some of your merchandise, as well.”

“Friends?” Y/N questioned.

She didn’t know why the word sounded so unusual to her. But she had blurted it out nonetheless.

Lucien huffed out a laugh. “Yes, is it so surprising that I have them?” 

“N-No! No, I’m sorry. I just…” But she couldn’t explain her response. 

Perhaps because this was the first time she felt like she had them herself. Her coven was her family before all else. But having been on the run the past years, alone, and constantly needing to just survive, friends were not a privilege she was allowed. 

But isn’t that what she had gained in the Night Court? Hadn’t Rhysand’s inner circle become her friends, too? And the Valkyrie’s… hadn’t they become even closer than friends?

Y/N blinked, and then forced a small smile. “W-What would your friend be interested in trying?”  

Lucien’s amusement disappeared as he clearly caught Y/N getting lost in her own mind. 

“My friend has been…cursed.” 

Y/N opened her mouth. 

“I am not asking if you can break it,” Lucien stopped her from interrupting. “The one who punished her is far more powerful than any High Fae. He is a death-lord.” 

Y/N had heard whisperings of death-lords from the wind. She didn't know much about them. Only that of how powerful they were.

He took in a shallow breath. “She is forced into the form of a firebird during the day, only to return to her mortal form at night. And she experiences…pain after the transformation.”

Y/N gave a confident nod. “Anything else?” 

“She doesn’t allow herself to sleep in her human form, saving it for when she is a firebird. Coffee nor tea is not strong enough to keep her up the way she wishes to.”

Y/N nodded again. “I can help with both.” 

Then she was off, bustling about her shop to prepare what was needed. 

Lucien watched her with both admiration and amusement. There was still so much he wanted to know about this woman.

Why had his brother saved her? Yes, she was beautiful. Anyone could see that, even feel it. Surely there was more to it than that. Or perhaps Eris had become so lonely that saving a damsel in distress felt rebellious and reckless.

“Has my brother visited since he brought you here?”

Lucien caught how her movements stopped for a moment from the question. 

“Only once. After I was attacked.” 

Lucien’s eyebrows rose a second. “Rhysand told me of the attempted kidnapping of Nyx. He also said you saved his life, most likely. How could Eris have known you were injured?”

Y/N shrugged. “I-I-I don’t believe that was why he had even come…” She shook her head. “I just figured he had business with the court.” 

Lucien suddenly realized that Y/N hadn’t considered that perhaps Eris had come because she had been hurt. 

Which just made Lucien have 20 more questions: Why would Rhysand tell Eris that Y/N had been hurt? And why would Eris care enough to see for himself that Y/N was alright?

Y/N had already returned to moving about her shop. At one point, he heard her mutter something while weaving and knotting a leather bracelet. 

A few moments later, Y/N returned to him with a woven basket filled with various objects. And gently placed it in Lucien’s arms. 

“This,” Y/N lifted a bright orange candle. “Tell her to light it as soon as she has returned to her human form. But it must be lit by only her, and with intention.”

She picked up an orange and golden gemstone that was attached to a gold necklace chain. “This is citrine. She should wear it throughout the night. It will shake off any grogginess and keep her alert.”

Then she pointed to a green gemstone, but this was too big to be jewelry. “This is malachite. After lighting the candle, she should rub this across her skin, focusing on the bottoms of her feet.”

Lucien nodded, trying to memorize the instructions carefully. 

Y/N picked up the bracelet that he had heard her reciting an incantation over. “This bracelet will soothe any pain she has. But she should only wear it when experiencing it, not at all times.”

She grabbed a jar that was filled with what appeared to be various herbs. “When the pain is very bad, mix two spoonfuls of this mixture to brew tea. It’s capsaicin, cloves, ginger, turmeric, and rosemary – all will soothe her aches and pains.”

And before Lucien could thank her or ask any questions, Y/N unfolded a piece of paper that he hadn’t seen in the basket. “I’ve written down all the instructions here, as well.” 

“Didn’t trust me to remember it all?” Lucien teased. 

Y/N smirked. “I don’t trust males to do many things.” 

“You wound me.” He looked down at the basket in his hands. “What do I owe you? I refuse to take any gifts from you again.” 

Y/N sighed, but gave him a number to pay.

Lucien didn’t so much as blink at that price, so he must not be short on currency. 

As she moved them to the register, Lucien cleared his throat as if trying to get the courage to ask something. 

“Would you join me for dinner tonight?” He asked. 

Y/N was so taken aback by the question that her head snapped up to meet his gaze, half expecting to see an expression that showed he was messing with her. 

Her mouth opened and closed a couple times before she finally got her thoughts in order. 

“That is very kind, b-but…” She closed her eyes for a moment and took in a shaky breath. “With Elain…I-I-I don’t think it is…appropriate.” 

Lucien hid his disappointment well. “Not even as friends?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at the cheekiness of it all. “And is that what everyone else in Velaris would perceive if they saw the two of together?” 

They both knew she was right. 

But Y/N also had no intention of getting between two fated mates – even if one of them refused to acknowledge their magical bond. 

“We are all going out dancing tonight,” Y/N quickly added, as if it would soften the blow of turning down his dinner invitation. “You should join us.”

Lucien was quiet for a moment, truly contemplating the invite. After a moment, he hesitated before finally giving a short nod. 

The ease at which he accepted made Y/N wonder if his dinner invite was merely out of loneliness and not actual romantic interest. 

“R-Really?” Y/N asked excitedly. "It’s called Rita’s – or so I am told.”

He nodded, “I know it.”

“If you wait an hour or so, I will be closing and we could go together. I’m meeting them there, it’s not a far walk.” 

But Lucien shook his head. “I must drop these off at my apartment, and then run some errands. But I will see you there.”

And he was walking out of the shop. 

Y/N didn’t truly believe Lucien would show up. But if he did, she hadn’t even considered that any of her friends would be upset that Lucien was invited in the first place. Elain wasn’t exactly one to go to the taverns and drink. But maybe tonight she would. 

–––––––

Feyre walked into Rhysand’s office with a nervous expression. 

Nyx sat on her hip as he was held and a bright smile appeared on the toddler's face when he caught sight of his father. 

“Lucien is here,” Feyre quickly shared. “Says he wishes to speak to both of us.” 

Rhys nodded and stood up, gently taking their son from her.

Feyre led them to the den, where their guest patiently waited for them. 

Lucien’s arms were crossed and he wore a deep frown as he looked into the crackling and blazing fireplace. 

“Lucien,” Rhysand greeted formally. 

Nyx cooed in his arms. 

Lucien turned and gave a slight bow of his head to both of them. “I come with a request.” 

“And what is this request?” Rhysand continued. 

“I wish for you to send a letter to my brother, Eris. I need to meet with him, and I do not have the same methods of contacting him while he is in Autumn Court.” 

Feyre and Rhysand didn’t look at each other, but shared similar thoughts in their minds. 

“What is this about?” Feyre questioned harshly. 

“The mortal witch you are harboring in this court. I know that Eris saved her life and brought her here. But no one will tell me why. And it seems Y/N is being kept in the dark and is not fully aware of how peculiar her situation is.” 

Rhysand ignored the accusatory tone and asked, “Where do you wish to meet him?”

Lucien has probably already assumed correctly, Feyre told Rhysand through their bond. Is this smart?

Rhysand answered, We cannot tell him the truth. Whether or not Eris wants his brother to know of his secret is up to him. Let him tell his story. 

“The Band of Exiles manor,” Lucien answered. 

Feyre rolled her eyes at the name of the dwelling.

“I will send him a message tonight then,” Rhysand told him. “Telling him to meet you there tomorrow as dusk.” 

Lucien nodded, but still narrowed his gaze at the two of them. “I am an emissary to your court, but you still would not trust me with this?”

“Your brother asked us to keep Y/N safe. That is all,” Rhysand shrugged. 

“All of us know Eris is not a merciful male,” Lucien growled. "He has nearly killed almost every member of your Inner Circle, including your own mate. Yet you protect someone upon his request.” 

“Perhaps we do not know Eris as well as we once thought,” Feyre surprised them all by pointing out. 

Lucien had nothing to say to that, then looked at Rhysand. “Just get him the message, please.” 

He started to leave the room, but paused. “Will Elain be going out with you tonight?” 

Feyre squinted in confusion. “No, why?” 

Lucien only half-turned to face them. “Y/N invited me to join all of you tonight. If it will be uncomfortable for me to attend, I understand.” 

“You are welcome, Lucien.” Rhysand answered before Feyre could. “You are an emissary of this court, as you said.” 

Lucien nearly rolled his eyes and huffed, “Yes, but only an emissary and nothing more. That has always been made very clear.” 

Then he pulled a pouch from the inside pocket of his jacket. “These are for Elain,” and placed them on the nearest surface. 

And with that, he left. 

Once he was gone, Y/N picked up the pouch to see that they were seeds. 

Feyre gave Rhysand a sad look. “What would you have done had this been us?” 

Her mate seemed to hold Nyx even closer. “I do not like to think about what could have been when it comes to us, Feyre Darling.” 

–––––––––––

Please, please, please leave a comment or a message. it would be oh so lovely.

What do you think Lucien will say to Eris?

How do you think a night out at Rita's with all this tension will turn out?

What do you think Lucien will say to Eris?

How do you think a night out at Rita's with all this tension will turn out?

chapter x

[theladyofdeath]

Better or Worse {17}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to all of those who have continued to read! We have loved writing this story and cannot believe it's about to come to a close.

*WARNING: NSFW, 18+ READERS ONLY.*

I don’t remember the last time my sisters and I had the afternoon to ourselves. No kids, no husbands, just the three Archeron girls.

And about eight hundred dresses.

Elain’s eyes are already shining with tears, her new mama hormones just as powerful as the pregnancy hormones, while Feyre looks like she’s on a mission.

The consultant, a pretty girl named Justine, met us at the door and showed us to the changing rooms we’d been assigned before asking me what my vision was for our vow renewal. As she hurried off to look for dresses that fit the ceremony of my dreams, she gave my sisters free reign to pick out one or two dresses of their own.

I’m not sure what to think about getting a second wedding dress. My first wedding dress was cheap, something I found online, but I loved it. Simple, fitted, but gorgeous. It was perfect for our casual beach wedding. It’s been sitting in an upstairs closet for the past decade. 

Feyre and Elain come back to the dressing rooms at the same time, multiple gowns draped over their arms.

“Okay, rule,” I begin as they start hanging them up. “We show each other everything, even if we look ridiculous.”

“Fair,” Elain agrees, sitting next to me on a plush bench. “We should have fun. We won’t be doing this again until the kids are grown and planning their weddings.”

At the mention of Nyx and Sera growing up, Elain tears up, but she quickly shakes it off. She left the baby with Azriel and is having serious separation anxiety.

I squeeze her hand.

“Remember when we went dress shopping for my wedding?”

As soon as the question leaves Feyre’s mouth, Elain and I burst into a fit of laughter. The most hideous green dress pops into my mind that Feyre nearly had us wear just to play a prank on her soon-to-be husband, but in the end we went with the sleek navy blue gowns that Feyre just couldn’t pass up. 

But shit, those green dresses were awful. They reminded us of something her ex may have wanted in his wedding…which added to the reasons why Feyre had left him.

Poor taste. In everything.

“Those blue dresses were stunning, though,” Elain says, eyes soft. “You were stunning.”

“Very few brides can pull off a black dress,” I agree, “but you were perfect.”

Feyre smiles, remembering it all. “Yeah, it was a perfect dress. Too bad Rhys ripped it to shreds the second the reception was over.”

Elain barks a laugh as I shake my head. “He would destroy something so beautiful without a second thought. He’s insane.”

“Which is why she married him.” Elain winks.

Feyre doesn’t deny it as her grin grows and turns just a little bit wicked.

“Someone had to marry a madman, may as well be me,” Feyre jokes.

But I shake my head. “I don’t know. Beneath all that calm demeanor, we all know Az is a freak.”

Elain’s cheeks redden at my words, but she doesn’t deny it which makes Feyre howl.

Justine returns with three dresses, two of which I immediately know will be going in the reject pile, but true to my word, I try them on.

“Tell me about your husband,” Justine says, fanning out the train and handing me a large mirror so I can see the back. The dress is atrocious, all puffy sleeves and layers upon layers upon layers of tulle. I look like a cake topper and based on Feyre and Elain’s constant smirking, they agree.

I ignore them, answering Justine. “He’s handsome, kind, strong, loyal. A bit of a goofball, but it’s one of the things I love about him. I can be a bit too serious, sometimes, so he balances me out.”

“And how did you meet?”

And so goes most of the appointment. She brings dress after dress, most of which don’t fit my style, but I politely try them on, answering her questions, while constantly thinking of my dress at home.

I idly wonder if I can still fit in it, something I mention to my sisters while we have a moment alone.

“I sure as hell wouldn’t fit in mine anymore,” Elain sighs, patting the small belly she hasn’t been quite able to get rid of since Sera was born. “Hips are wider, belly is bigger, and don’t even get me started on these boobs.”

I laugh, feeling the jealousy poke its head up but ignoring it until it dissipates on its own.

“And my dress no longer exists…” Feyre sighs, rolling her eyes in the most loving way.

“I might try it on tonight,” I say, playing with one of the ties of the dressing robe I’m wearing. “Just to see if it still fits.”

“Do you want to wear it again?” Elain asks, examining the fit of the lavender dress in the mirror in front of her. “Rather than get a new dress?”

Pursing my lips, I look at the mountains of lace and beading and silk around us. “No,” I admit. “This is sort of a new beginning for us. These vows are to show how far we’ve come and how strong we are. I love my old dress, but I think I need something new for this new chapter.”

Both Feyre and Elain are nodding, understanding on their faces, just as Justine comes back with two more dresses. Feyre sighs and leans back on the couch she’s curled up on. “One thing is for sure. If you do still fit in your original dress, Cassian is going to lose his shit when he sees you.”

The hanger on one of the dresses Justine was hanging by my dressing room door clatters against the wall before she drops the garment to the floor. The noise pauses our conversation as she hastily reaches down and picks the dress back up.

“I’m sorry, I’m so clumsy,” she mutters, clearing her throat. Hanging the dresses up, she turns around and looks at me in the reflection. Her look isn’t appraising, it isn’t the same look she gave me earlier when we were discussing dress shapes. This is an inspection. Her eyes start at the top of my head, where my hair is braided in a coronet, down to the tips of my toes, painted in a deep red color.

“It’s fine,” I say, slowly. 

She doesn’t seem to hear me as her eyes trail back up my body. “At least you’re pretty.”

I hesitate. “Pardon?”

She clears her throat and I swear the smile she paints on her mouth is forced. “I was just saying how beautiful you are. All of these dresses will look lovely on you.”

I slowly look at my sisters in the reflection of the mirror, but they’re watching Justine with equal confusion. 

With a halfhearted promise that she’ll be just around the corner if we need her, she’s gone, leaving my sisters and I to stare after her in a stunned silence.

“Okay, well,” Feyre says, jumping to her feet and clearing the awkward tension. “Let’s see these dresses that will look lovely on you.”

Rolling my eyes, I grab the one she dropped and head into the dressing room.

I end up leaving without a dress. Nothing stood out to me, nothing grabbed my eye like my original dress did. After leaving the dress store, we ended up at a Mexican restaurant, where Elain relented to peer pressure and had exactly half of a margarita. Nine months of not drinking killed her tolerance and she’s a giggling mess as I drop her and Feyre off at her house.

When I make it back home, the house is silent and empty, except for Greg who is fast asleep on the couch, snoring soundly. 

After kicking off my shoes and setting my keys and purse aside, I hurry up the stairs into the spare bedroom. In the back of the closet, stuffed into a zipped up bag, is my wedding dress.

I haul it out — an unnerving amount of dust clouding in the air — and set it on the unmade guest bed. I don’t know why, but I find that I’m nervous. Maybe it’s more of excitement, but the feeling that floods my core has my fingers trembling as I reach for the zipper.

When I pull out the dress, it’s exactly like I remember it. 

It’s white, of course, but the lace covering the bodice has a hint of blush to it, just enough to notice. The back is completely open, while the sweetheart neckline is held up by thin, dainty straps. Fitted through the waist and hips, it gently flares out before reaching the floor.

I love it just as much as I did the day I wore it to marry my best friend.

Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m taking off my clothes and whipping the dress off its hanger. 

I’m surprised when it easily slips on. I slide my arms through the straps and shimmy the dress over my hips. There’s a zipper on the side and I only have to tug and suck in once before it’s fully zipped. 

When I look in the mirror, I suck in a breath. Suddenly, I see myself on the beach, looking into Cassian’s eyes as he says his vows. Ten years is a long time, but I remember it like it was yesterday.

A door closes downstairs and then I hear Cassian’s carrying up to me.

“Nes?”

“Shit.” Cursing under my breath, I quickly hurry across the hall to our room and then into our bathroom, closing the door behind me. My hair, thanks to the dozen or so dresses I tried on today, is an absolute mess. I pull the bobby pins out and haphazardly run my fingers through it, doing my best to make it presentable again. A knock sounds on the door just as I drop the last pin on the counter.

“You okay?”

With a deep breath, more nerves in my stomach now than ten years ago, I open the door.

Whatever Cass had been planning to say fades into nothing as his jaw drops and his eyes drag down my body and up again. I’m surprised to see silver lining his eyes when he meets my gaze again.

“You are so beautiful.”

Emotion clogs my throat and I look down at the counter, feeling my cheeks burn. “Thank you.”

“You look as beautiful today as you did the first time I saw you in that dress.” He steps closer and lifts my chin.

I meet his eyes and the emotion dwelling within them is overwhelming. My vision blurs and he wipes away a tear that escapes down my cheek. There was a time that I would have felt foolish in a situation such as this, but I don’t. I feel completely loved, in every possible way by this man in front of me.

“I just wanted to see if it still fits,” I say, although my voice breaks.

His smile is so soft that it makes my knees weak. “Oh, it fits,” he says, and his eyes graze my body, making my heart beat just a little bit quicker. His eyes linger in all the right places before I step forward and slide my arms around his neck. His hands run down my sides and rest on my hips.

“I love you,” I breathe, and he kisses me.

Cassian has kissed me in a million different ways throughout the years, but there’s something precious about a sweet, gentle kiss. It’s the kind of kiss he gives me now and the sincerity of it, the promise of it, nearly has me going limp in his arms.

“Did you find your dress today?” He asked, his lips leaving my own for a moment to find my temple.

I shake my head. “No, none of them were the one.”

“You’ll find it, baby,” he says, stepping behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and gazing at our reflection in the mirror. The image it creates is laughable, my wedding dress contrasting with the sweats and hoodie he wore over to Rhysand’s, but it doesn’t matter. What we’re wearing, what we look like, none of it matters. It doesn’t matter if I wear a two thousand dollar ball gown, my first wedding dress, or one of Cassian’s old hoodies, being with him, reaffirming our love for each other, that’s all that matters.

“I love you,” I tell his reflection, repeating my words from earlier, because I feel like I need to make up for all of our lost time, all the days he didn’t hear me say it.

His lips find my neck. “And I love you.”

The deep rumble of his voice against my skin has my eyes closing, tipping my head to the side to give him better access. I feel the zipper at my side coming loose and can’t stop the smirk from forming on my lips.

The dress pools at my feet and I know I should carry it back across the hall, put it back in its bag, and return it to its place in the back of the closet.

But I don’t.

Instead I luxuriate in the feeling of Cassian’s large hands cupping my breasts, the way he rolls my nipples under his thumbs in tandem with his tongue on my throat. I can’t stop the soft moan that falls from my lips.

Behind me, I can feel the evidence of what the little sound does to him. 

I watch his eyes open and darken as they meet mine in our reflection. I can tell he grins as he bites the tender spot at the base of my throat, and this time when I let out a moan, one hand slides down my abdomen and finds its place between my thighs, beneath my panties. His finger teases me, running between my folds again and again, as Cassian whispers, “Beautiful.”

I try to rock my hips, try to signal my need for his fingertips against my throbbing clit, but he takes his hands off of me. Before I can protest, he’s picking me up and carrying me into our bedroom. 

Instead of throwing me on the bed in a fit of passion, as he usually does, he lays me down gently. My head falls against the pillow as our eyes meet, and there’s such a yearning, such a devotion staring back at me that it has me feeling emotional, yet again. I say nothing. Neither does he.

He simply pushes himself back on his knees and pulls off his hoodie, then his t-shirt before leaning over me and kissing me, slowly. Our tongues brush as our lips open and move. He takes my hands in his and brings them over my head against the pillow. 

Our kisses grow heavier and I need more. I need more of his mouth on mine, more of his skin on mine.

With my heels I push down his sweats and we work them off together, and eventually it’s just our bodies lined up as one, perfectly as always.

He pushes in, slowly, my legs wrapping around his waist until he’s fully seated inside me. With my hands pressed into the pillow above me, I’m completely at his mercy, pinned there under his adoring gaze. His hips draw back, leaving me empty and needy before pushing back in. Cassian swallows my moan with another tender kiss and before I know it, I’m gasping beneath him as he makes love to me.

If the past few months have taught me nothing else, it’s the different ways my husband worships my body. He’s fucked me, dominated me, let me take the lead. But there’s nothing that makes me feel as cherished and desired not for my body, but for my heart as when he makes love to me, our souls becoming one for those few minutes.

Giving myself over to the pleasure of the moment, I let my eyes fall closed and focus on the feel of him moving in me, on me, around me, and allow the emotion building in my chest to grow.

“I love you,” he breathes, peppering my face with kisses as he thrusts in and pulls out. His lips trail down my neck to my breasts and I’m unable to stop the moan this time as his tongue flicks over my sensitive nipples, playing with the jewelry there.

I want to tell him that I love him too, but I’ve momentarily forgotten how to form words. I’m lost in him, completely consumed in all that he’s giving to me. My legs around his waist tighten as he quickens his pace. His tongue plays with my nipple only for a moment more before trailing back up my neck and capturing my lips. My back arches and I’ve completely lost control over the sounds tumbling out of my mouth, sounds that Cassian seems to thrive on. 

He curses, and although it’s filthy it feels reverent, as he leans back and meets my gaze just as I cry out and my body trembles around him. My release finds me and I cling to him, wanting to revel in this moment. He thrusts a few more times before his movements grow uneven, and he comes with his eyes locked on mine and our breaths mingled together, quick and heavy. 

Neither of us say a thing, but neither of us move, either. Our hands are clasped, his body is on top of mine. He stays inside of me. 

I feel safe, wanted, loved.

A dress may not seem like something to get emotional over, but thinking about where we started, how far we’ve come, and what we’ve gone through in the past year makes me forever grateful that I wore that thirty dollar dress all those years ago. I can’t wait to marry my husband all over again.

[venus-celestial]

I have so many Writing/Art ideas Mostly Nesta so here's a list of things coming in no particular order

Priestess Nesta (After Feyre leaves for the second time shit goes down with Tomas and she somehow ends up at a small fey temple later ending up in the library)

Rhys Sister and Nesta (based on a head canon I have that the house of wind is Rhys Sister's spirit Nesta's powers end up giving her a physical form after a while and she fusses over nesta and fucks with Cassian who she never lets she her)

Tamlin and Feyre wedding but It's Eris and Nesta (I have a whole au with this idea I posted a bit about it a while back there's going to be Amren Mor and Nesta friendship Also Rhysand is going to get bonked)

More Next Gen kids (Nessian's oldest is coming Next Then Nyx I'm also planning on giving him a little sister)

Next Gen Romance (Or as I'm calling it Night steals Spring 2 electric boogaloo or poor tamlin can't have anything nice first his wife then his daughter although he kinda deserves it Rhys is proud Sylvie doesn't get along with her dad and consents to "kidnapping" and Nyx just loves his mate)

Mor being a big sister to all 3 Archerons ( I'm going to Drop a Terrified and traumatized Nesta in front of her and give her protective older sister instincts so help me god)

Amren and Nesta Friendship (I Swear I'm going to forever be upset this went nowhere and seek to rectify it the power they hold with their friendship they could take over the world or scare the ever loving shit out of the courts or Cassian just for shits and giggles also both of them in a modern au omg also if I'm giving the braincell to anyone in my fics it's going to be ether Amren or Azriel speaking of which)

Azriel and Nesta Friendship (Everytime he calls her little sister in any fic ever I lose my mind I love these two together so fucking much also I have the image of Azriel singing to Nesta to her during a panic attack in my head and it won't go away

Rhysand caring for Nesta like a sister (I also lose my mind when this is in a fic and I will make it happen so help me I will)

That's it for now but lots of these could have many more prompts so there's a lot coming

I love Acotar but I'm electing to just throw Cannon out the window of 500 story building and write my own