#that would be even stupider than feysand having a kid

[arson-09]

ive seen way too many posts about nessian having a kid i need yall to stfu because if sarah “just make then have sex and get married with kids” maas does that to nesta i will become her sleep paralysis demon

[sapphicmsmarvel]

feysand x reader: the afterglow

set after getting together but you don't necessarily have to read that to understand this one!

under the cut bc its over 1K!

tw: a bit of anxiety

-After you guys officially mated, you knew the world was gonna take it weirdly. 

-There’s never been a triad bond that would be so well known. 

-To be honest, you were mostly nervous about how the inner circle would react. 

-You knew they loved the three of you dearly. But you also weren’t stupid and knew this was unconventional. You also knew you were freaking over nothing but alas, you were still anxious about it. 

-In the middle of the frenzy, Rhysand sent a message saying that you had accepted the triad bond and you three would be gone for a bit. 

-When you guys came back, it was a party. Mor had hung up a banner that said “congratulations!” There was a buffet table full of foods that Elain had clearly worked so hard over. 

-Cassian was…collecting coins from everyone?

“I bet that you’d be the first to make the first move.” He explained. 

Technically, he wasn’t wrong. It was you yelling at them that made the first move. 

“Did everyone know before we did?” you asked as he collected a few coins from Azriel. 

“Well, Rhysie isn’t subtle. Feyre was oblivious to your struggle just like she was to Rhysie-“

“Hey!” Feyre pouted. “You aren’t wrong, but hey!” 

You kissed her cheek. “And you!” Cassian pointed to you. “Are affectionate with everybody! Do you know how hard it was to convince Feyre and Rhysand that you actually liked them like that!” 

“I’m so sorry my reluctance to fuck our friends made your life harder.” You said dryly. 

He scoffed, “better be!” 

“Quit yelling at my wives, Cassian.” Rhysand said darkly, the alpha-asshole coming out. 

“Here we go.” Feyre muttered. 

“Made it two minutes this time.” Mor added. 

“Instead of two seconds.” Amren finished. 

Cassian gave you a smile that you had you wincing, because you knew what was coming. “Hey Y/N, want a ri-“ He didn’t get to finish because of the punch to his stomach from Rhys. 

“Welcome to the family.” Mor nudged you. “Even though you were already in.” 

“I’m just relieved I don't have to see Y/N pining anymore.” Nesta said from the doorframe. “Over twenty years of that bullshit.” 

You should’ve hit her harder when you were kids. 

Azriel, Lucien and Elain, like the sweethearts they were, just smiled without a sarcastic comment. 

-Your next worry was Nyx. How would you fit into his life? Would you be a stepmom or another mom? 

-You easily loved him more than anything, that was even before being mated to his parents. Now? Somehow you loved him more. 

-You were holding him one day when Rhysand sat down next to you on the porch swing. You were just enjoying the breeze with your-well it felt wrong to call him your son but you were his parents' wife? 

“How are two of my favorite living beings?” Rhysand said kissing you. 

“Good but what kind of greeting is that?” You chuckled. 

“I know he’s a person, but it’s weird to call him that. He’ll always be my baby.” He cooed and brushed back Nyx’s tuft of hair. 

Rhysand sat next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You leaned as much as you felt comfortable with Nyx in your arms. You didn’t like not being on your guard when you were holding him. He was precious. 

Rhysand kissed your temple, you felt peace. You were just missing one vital part. Feyre usually came home from the studio around this time. Rhysand and you had accidentally made it a tradition to sit out on the porch and wait for her. 

“Do you want kids?” Rhysand asked. “You don't have to answer now.” 

“I mean, I kinda have one now. Kind of late to say no.” You giggled and gestured to Nyx. “He may not be biologically mine. And I can be a stepmom or stay Auntie. Whatever’s the most comfortable with you and Fey. I don't want to overstep.” 

“Would….would you be one of his moms?” Rhys asked, you could tell he was incredibly nervous. 

“I would be honored.” You whispered, your gaze never leaving the baby's sleeping face. 

You missed the look of utter adoration that Rhys shot your way. 

Pretty soon, Feyre joined you guys on the porch coming home in paint splattered overalls and a paint stained face. She was glowing, you could tell how happy that studio made her. It made you incredibly happy. 

She leaned down to kiss Nyx, then you, then Rhys who pouted about being last. But he was okay with it, he loved your family so incredibly much. It kind of scared him what he’d do to protect it. 

Later that night, Feyre came up behind you in the mirror as you got ready for bed. She pressed her head against yours. Your cheeks lined up perfectly and were smushed together. Her arms were wrapped around your waist. 

“You are his mother, if that’s what you want to be”. She whispered. “I may have birthed him, but I would be honored to share the mom spot with you.”

“Fey, I just did my skincare, you can’t make me cry like this.” You said, your voice wobbly. She squeezed you tighter in response, her nose scrunching with her closed mouth smile, her eyes half closed and lips scrunched slightly. She kissed your temple and went back to Rhys. 

That was that. Rhysand was dad/daddy, Feyre was mom/mommy and you were mama. 

-The next thing on your list was how the court would see it. The Inner Circle doesn’t give a shit (which was to be expected) but the Court of Nightmares? That’s where you were worried. 

They didn’t take to Feyre that well, then Nyx. Now you. 

Rhys called you out on your bullshit one night while all of you were getting ready for bed. 

“What’s up with you? You’re more nervous going to the Court of Nightmares than you were before.”

“Well, we weren’t mated then.” You said back, you tried to avoid being snippy but your stress levels were high. 

Clearly, he knew you were being snarky because he gave you a raised brow and held his hands up in surrender. You sighed. “Ugh, baby I’m sorry.” You said. You set down your hair brush and crawled into his arms. 

His chest shook with restrained laughter. “Love, you’re allowed to be nervous-“ He was cut off by Feyre coming into the room. 

“Ooh, are we snuggling?” Feyre said. And with the excitement of a five year old she catapulted into bed.  

The three of you bounced and laughed. “I’m nervous about going to the Court of Nightmares.” You admitted, playing with a string on the blanket to avoid looking at Feyre. You could avoid Rhys’ gaze easily since you were sitting with your head laid against his chest and in between his legs. 

“Why?” Feyre brushed your hair behind your ears. 

“Because…” You made a helpless gesture. “It's really scary.”

“You’ve been there before?” Feyre asked. 

“Yeah well I wasn’t fucking the High Lord and Lady.” You sighed. 

“Okay, you aren’t just fucking us.” Rhysand squeezed your hip. “You’re our wife. What label do you want them to know you as? Consort?-“ 

“I’ll rip your dick off.” You growled. “Consorts aren’t treated with the respect they deserve.”

“Agreed.” He said. 

“Do you want political power?” Feyre asked with zero judgment. 

“You know that’s not why I married you two.” You grumbled. 

“But would you want it?” Rhysand pushed. His hands roaming over your skin, he knew how much the contact helped your anxiety. 

You shrugged. “It’d be a massive adjustment. However….I’d love to help people and actually have the power to do so. But there’s…”

“Hm?” Feyre continued to stroke your palm. 

“This is gonna sound bad but I don't mean it to be.”

Feyre smiled and based on the pulsing down the bond, Rhys was too. So you continued. “There’s no room for me to help rule.”

“Who says?” Feyre challenged. 

You sputtered and Rhys decided to take you out of your misery. 

“You know, there also wasn’t such a thing as High Lady when Feyre came into our lives.” He stroked down your back, his hands ending at your hips. 

“And?” You asked. 

“I rewrote that rule, and I’ll rewrite it again for you to be in it. You are our equal in every way and I refuse to let you be reduced to a ‘consort’ that is, if you want to be a High Lady.”

And that was it. The next day, the day you were supposed to head to the Court of Nightmares, you delayed it. Much to the confusion of your Inner Circle. 

You were sworn in as a second High Lady. 

How the Inner Circle found out was quite funny. Az had a feeling, Nesta and the Valkyries were happy for you. Mor and Amren just looked at Rhys with a secret High Lady? Again! Cassian used it as an excuse to celebrate that night so the group could ditch their Court of Nightmares persona. 

When Azriel introduced you, he said, “Rise for your High Lord Rhysand, Highy Lady Feyre and High Lady Y/N.”

The three of you walked in, you in the middle, Rhysand and Feyre on either side of you. 

You felt beautiful, respected. Even though you knew Keir would be a problem. 

You were alright with those problems, as long as you had your family with you.

[lovemyromance]

Let's talk about the dreaded pliant bones argument in ACOTAR

First of all, I don't ever want to see this stupid argument anywhere, especially after HOFAS. Second of all, none of the Archeron sisters are Illyrian so they do not have Illyrian anatomy suitable for childbirth. And yet, we see Feysand and Nessian as mates. So it's not like SJM even cared about that herself.

Then ACOSF happens, and oh no, c-sections don't apparently seem to exist and it becomes a BIG DEAL™ that Nesta changed only her own body and Feyre's body to have Illyrian anatomy.

People have been latching onto this argument like Rose on the goddamn Titanic, anything to cling to their sinking ship.

Let's not forget that Elain & Nesta had their bodies changed already once before, against their will. Why the hell would Nesta change Elain's body without obtaining consent after that traumatic experience? That would be a gross violation of bodily autonomy.

And Nesta was shown how to change the bodies. Which could hint that she still knows how, should a similar situation arise again.

But none of that even matters! What matter is that it's 2024 and we are still saying a woman can't be with the man she loves because she can't give him biological children. That is the crux of the argument Gw*nriels always try to skip around and say without saying. Like "oh no!! She can't have his babies!! Ship sank. It's over. The End."

As if a woman should be reduced down to her ability to procreate. This is not the middle ages people! Wake up!

Also, not to mention, even if we use that disgusting logic - The only other female in this series that is mentioned to have Illyrian anatomy is Emerie. Are we shipping Azriel with Emerie now? Because she can FOR SURE have his babies, if that's all that matters. Who cares about her own desires and personality and sexual preferences if she can have illyrian kids??

Now let's consider what people have been latching onto:

Gwyn...is flexible and adapts to training moves quickly. That's why Nesta commented she had "pliant bones", that's IT. She is part nymph and "has different anatomy than high fae", sure, but is that anatomy in any way, Illyrian? Water nymphs don't have Illyrian leathery wings either so I don't understand why insisting Gwyn has "pliant bones" is in any way endgame ship material. Why would her half-water nymph heritage give her the anatomy to birth a full grown illyrian-winged baby??

And then there's the cowards that use this argument by hiding behind SJM herself by saying "Well, I hate it too, but SJM is *kinda* known for writing like this and her characters are all male-dominated, fae-territorial blah blah, she is *kinda* hinting at endgame because the womb thing–" NO. No.

Don't hide. Tell the room exactly what you are saying. Which is the exact same misogynistic spiel as above, where you try to use gross medieval logic to justify your mf fictional ship, but you hide your faces when you say it. Because you know it's wrong, but you're still not above using that as "evidence" in your ship's favor.

I've even said before, I don't care what SJM says. If I don't like a misogynistic take, I am not using that as evidence in any capacity for any reason.

I'm not even being biased by my preferred ship. I genuinely just want people to stop using this argument because it's hurtful to women as a whole. Ship wars are fine, but ffs, when did we get to the point where we are pitting two women against each other based on whose uterus is more suitable??

And before you even say "I just have a problem because I ship Elriel" No. No.

It's about these kinds of cheap arguments in general. I have also never been one to go off saying how Gwyn can't be a valid love interest because her past SA trauma - That argument is also archaic and hurtful. I've never once used it. I don't like seeing it.

Can we just - Not do it? The only reason such arguments have gained traction is because they're constantly echoed by the toxic sides of the fandom online. It's gross and I don't want to be a part of a group that condones that.

Ship who you want, but let's just be respectful about it. We should not have to resort to cheap arguments like the above.

[bunnyshideawayy]

and since i’m yapping i wanna quickly rant about how stupid and selfish the Feysand death pact is.

yes, i know losing a mate would be devastating for the other. yes, i know Feyre and Rhys watched each other die and were put through hell together. that still doesn’t change my mind. what they did was selfish, for more reasons than just it leaving Nyx orphaned and heartbroken. (btw do we know the timeline for aging as a fae? like do they grow up like humans do until they reach like 20 something and just stop aging for a while? lmk)

Feyre and Rhys are high lady and high lord of the night court, they have the court and its people to consider. what would happen to if they should die together? who would rule the NC if Nyx was to young to become high lord? who would protect Nyx and Velaris? News flash, it wouldn’t be the IC. the only one who stands a chance politically would be Mor, who is Keir’s daughter and Rhys’s cousin, but Cas and Az would be left with no official court positions. Rhys is barely keeping the Illryians in line, should he die they will revolt and Cas and Az will not be able to handle that idc how powerful they are. Amren wouldn’t be able to do much politically i don’t think she is even known outside the NC. Cas and Az have little to no respect from the other courts, they’d maybe have the help of the Summer and Day courts- that’s it. Keir would probably try to become HL of the NC if Nyx is still to young and he would have the entire support of the CON. if that happened Nyx, Mor, any of the IC would never be safe. Nesta and Elain, too. Just rhys dying would drastically change the political landscape, losing both he and feyre would be catastrophic. 

Now onto Nyx.

I know feyre and rhys didn’t expect to actually get pregnant so soon but they made the pact then decided to try for kids, that is also selfish and irresponsible. idc if they thought it would take 200 years to get pregnant, idc if they didn’t expect the wigs, they still made the pact and knew the consequence of having a kid would mean one of them would have to stay behind to take care of them even if they were grieving! “well mates are different!” do you really think feyre and rhys are the first and only mated pair in pyrithian history? i’m sure there has been someone who lost their mate and still pushed through for their kid(s). it was a desperate thing to do and love makes you desperate. i get it and i don’t expect these deeply traumatized characters to be perfect but i DO expect us as readers to see stupid, and say stupid. it’s obvious even they regret their pact after the pregnancy. so we can all drop this act, what they did was selfish and that’s okay! they made a blind and short sided decision that will have incredible, negative consequences should it ever happen. not just for them and their family, but for their entire court and the entire island of pyrthian, maybe even world, maybe even universe given its now canonly connected to the CC universe. thank the mother they both have way to much plot armor so we don’t have to worry about losing either of them. but the possibility is terrifying!

[westrangecollectionkoalaposts]

Think about how fucked up the mating bond is, people get bonded to whoever tf the magic chooses for them considering only how much powerful you are and that your kids will be powerful as fuck, and if you don't like them or some shit happened between you two earlier, sorry but the chances of you ending up with said person in a toxic relationship are still high, look at how many toxic bonds we saw:

we have tamlin's family, his father and brothers were worse than the vanserras and his mom and father were mated, so it didn't matter how much shit his father was, the mom just accepted that.

feysand's bond, fucked up as fuck. after all rhysand put feyre through during UTM, we get to acomaf (and there is also that stupid ring quest, imagine if she died..) where he gives her a long ass sad background story and she just accepted it.... yet if she wasn't his mate she would be pretty much death in book 1, and oh wait, let's not forget the fact he hid life threatening information about her pregnancy, and like, she is still with him as if nothing had happened.

nessian bond! also fucked up, we have cassian watching nesta fall the stairs and be like "haha i watched bc if get to the end, i would have to take you back upstairs, also you fell bc you didnt train so it is all YOUR fault", cassian telling her everybody hates her, cassian doesn't understand how her sisters love her, cassian taking her to a hike bc she (25 years old) was the only one between all those 500+ years old bitches who had balls to tell feyre she was gonna die before christmas, makes her carry a bag that is a third of her weight (lets say she is 1,75m and weights 60kg, she was carrying around 20kg and according to a search in google, a hiking backpack shouldn't weight more than 10 percent of the person's weight, which in this case Nesta should be carrying 6kg and not more than that...) during this hike. He has sex with her after she gets sexual assaulted by a mythical creature, he gets butthurt when she says a fact about riceman, gets angry when she gets uncomfortabled about the fact he wants everyone to know they share bed (and he literaly says exactly that), like, he even says that he didn't choice to be shackled to her, that means he wouldn't choice her => he wouldn't be with her if there wasn't a bond. During acosf we see that he knows shit about her and he doesnt even like her but he stilld wants her exclusively bc of the bond and nesta is molded and treated like shit until submission so she can fit him and his family. Let's not forget that whatever thing nesta disagres, cassian get like "is that because i am a bastard low born nobody and my ass is flat?". Also from a logic point of view (considering the power thing and that the cauldron chooses who you are mated with and it blessed elain with gifts and got angry at nesta bc she took its power) wouldn't make more sense if nesta ended up with a high lord/high lord heir or azriel? nesta is powerful as fuck, powerful to the point rhysand, a pOWErfuLl high lord (take his telepathy away and he is in the same level as the other high lords) struggles to contain her power, she is in the same level of a high lord, and i know cassian had 7 siphons but it is azriel who has not only 7 siphons but is also a shadowsinger, they are poweful but not in the same level as a high lord/nesta yet azriel at least has a special power, so between them two azriel is more logical, and in a general point of view, a high lord/heir... (i repeat, this bond was a curse threw at nesta)

drakon and miryam, too fucked up, she was a slave, that was given to him as gift from his bride/wife/girlfriend whatever. she was a slave, and half human, and during this time humans were all slaves. and drakon, prince, faerie... she was with jurian then somehow she fell in love with drakon(?) i don't remember their story properly, but i am pretty sure that if there wasn't a mating bond, they would not have any relationship. I honestly find this one too weird/absurd that I even have a theory that drakon is daemanti and manipulated miryam to ''love'' him (pretty much like rhysand seems to be doing/did to feyre... maybe that is why drakon and rhysand were friends or something, drakon taught him the telepathy things)

vs non-toxic:

Lucien and Elain, they aren't together, elain doesn't want to get close to lucien and he respects it, lucien doesn't force himself into her, keeps his distance s he is aware she is not comfortable, he let her know they are bonded from the beginning as opposite to some people up there...

Kallias and viviane - we didn't see much about them but considering they were friends since young age, so we are supposed to assume they are good...

Honestly if i was faerie i would be afraid of having a mate.

[shyvioletcat]

➼ we have never gotten along, but i’d rather bicker with you than be on this boring date right now

➼ i’m at a bar when i see someone making you uncomfortable so i swoop in as your partner…only to find out that the person you’re with is your actual partner and they broke up with you because they thought you were cheating–my bad?

➼ a friend asked me what i thought my life would look like in ten years and i realized that i pictured me and you, holding hands, with kids

➼ i keep drawing you in my sketchbook because i’ve always found you to be beautiful and i’m longing to tell you how i feel, but one day you find it and you have questions

➼ when a great one night stand turns into an awkward meeting with my new boss the following day

For Rowaelin or Feysand... dealers choice?

This was actually a super hard choice. I had a lot of ideas... I may come back to that sketching for Feysand later... I ALMOST picked that family one for Rowaelin too haha.

~~~~~

Rowan watched the bubbles rise in his beer, one after the other. He had agreed to come to the bar to watch the soccer game with his mates but when the game got washed out due to the intense lightning storm he had got bored. The conversation had turned to relationships, and in his current single state he was a little bit bitter about their happiness and potential prospects. He had none, he was busy with work and that didn’t give him much time to look for a girlfriend. Fenrys had downloaded a dating app onto his phone but Rowan had been too proud to open it despite the notification bubble in the corner. Even if he was a bit rusty, he didn’t need the internet to help him find a date, he had enough skill to do it himself.

Maybe.

With a sigh he looked around the bar for his own potential prospect. Rowan had done a near full circle when his eyes landed on Fenrys and his wide grin.

“So that app--”

Rowan didn’t give him a chance to say anything else before he was up and moving. He was halfway to the bar when he realised he had a full glass at his table. Maybe he could order some fries to soak up the booze while they waited for the soccer match to start up again. That was his plan as he made his way to the bar, but then he heard an incredulous, “Excuse me!” and that had him stopping in his tracks.

Turning, Rowan saw a stunning woman seated in a booth, her peculiarly turquoise coloured eyes glaring at a man seated across from her. The man reached out and the woman recoiled but he seemed insistent. Rowan had seen enough. He changed direction heading for the booth, sliding in next to the woman and casually putting an arm around her shoulder.

“Sorry I’m late, babe,” Rowan pressed a kiss to her hair then he addressed the brown-haired man. “I’m Rowan.”

“Aelin,” the man almost sneered. “Who is this?”

Rowan filed that little bit of information away for later.

“This is not what it looks like, Chaol,” the woman -- Aelin-- said stiltedly.

“I knew it,” Chaol said, shaking his head. “I knew you were cheating on me.”

“I--what? You thought I was cheating on you?” Aelin asked.

“I’m out of here,” the man was angry now, throwing down a few bills down on the table from his pocket. “We’re done, this is me officially breaking up with you. Have a nice night.”

The woman watched her… well Rowan wasn’t exactly sure. It seemed like that man may have been her boyfriend, and he may have read the whole situation wrong. He had assumed from the situation that man had been making unwanted advances but from the look of things he may have just interrupted a lovers tiff. When the other man was out the door Aelin pushed away from Rowan, his arm falling off her shoulder.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded.

“Uh…” Rowan rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought he was making you uncomfortable so I thought I would step in and help.” She glared at him. “So, um--my bad?”

“Is your name even Rowan?” Aelin asked him.

“It is.”

She was thoughtful for a few moments, lips pursing while she considered gods knew what. She could be thinking about taking a swing at him and it looked like it would hurt. “Well, Rowan. Seeming as you ruined my date night with my prick of an ex-boyfriend, why don’t you buy me some dinner?”

Aelin smiled at him now, relaxed and looking him over with an appreciative perusal. Rowan smiled right back, maybe he didn’t need a dating app to get a date--maybe he just needed his own stupidity.

“It would be my pleasure.”

~~~~~

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[elentiyawhitethorn]

feysand blind date

Loving Every Second of It

Fluff//3010 words

Feyre wasn’t sure what she was expecting tonight.

Lucien had set her up on a blind date with a friend of a friend and there was no way it wasn’t going to end miserably. Maybe Feyre would say something stupid and he would think she was weird. Maybe he would decide she wasn’t pretty enough or her clothes weren’t nice or she was just boring. Maybe some other woman who was everything she would never be would catch his eye. Maybe—

“I really hope you’re not still imagining ways this will end poorly.”

Feyre frowned. “Seriously, Lu, this is a bad idea.”

Lucien elbowed her. “You said, and I quote, “I’m done being a lonely spinster who’s too busy regretting my life choices to get laid.” Therefore I, as the good friend I am, decided to get you a date. And consequently, laid. So stop being a bitch. If it doesn’t end well, at least you put yourself out there, right?”

She sighed. “If it doesn’t end well, I will have to endure the long-lasting humiliation and despair for the rest of my life. That’s not something I’m inclined to want.”

“The only reason I’m still here listening to your self-pity is because I know if I leave you’ll chicken out.”

“And because I’m your best friend?”

“Yeah, that too.”

Feyre scowled and crossed her arms. “You don’t say that very convincingly.”

Lucien just smiled and gave Feyre a peck on the cheek. “You’ll have a good time tonight. Just be yourself.”

“But what if he doesn’t like myself?”

“He will. Azriel has good taste in people, as evidenced by the fact that he’s dating me,” Lucien stated matter-of-factly.

Feyre rolled her eyes but allowed a small smile to cross her features. Azriel had only started dated Feyre’s best friend a couple weeks ago, and she’d met the man a handful of times. It was his friend, Rhys, she thought he’d said, that she would be going on a date with tonight.

“It’s time to go,” Lu told her.

Feyre blinked. “Already?”

“Yes, don’t pretend you haven’t been counting the seconds. You’re such a bullshitter.”

A mournful sigh was all she gave Lucien before heading to the door. They had agreed to meet at the restaurant, a fancy, but also homey, little place downtown.

“Wait.”

Feyre almost growled out loud. If Lucien kept distracting her, she was going to lose her nerve.

“I’m driving you to the restaurant.”

Feyre spun around. “What do you mean you’re driving me? I was about to walk out the door.”

Lucien crossed his arms. “Yes, but that still leaves you with dozens of opportunities to turn back around. I won’t risk it.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes, but reluctantly allowed him to take her. The drive was unpleasant—Feyre would never admit it to him, but Lucien had been right. Had she had the option, she would have turned around by the time they pulled up at the restaurant. Feyre’s hands were clenched into fists to keep them from shaking.

She tried to think when she had become so nervous about dates. It probably had something to do with Tamlin. Tamlin was a bastard who had ridiculed and scorned Feyre subtly enough during their relationship that Feyre had begun to think of herself as worthless, entirely unaware it was his fault. She’d dumped his sorry ass after she caught him in Feyre’s own fucking bed with Ianthe, a “friend.”

Yes, that was definitely the cause of Feyre’s anxiety. She was never excessively social or flirty, but she had at least been cool and collected, as many guys noticed. Or they used to, anyway. Now she was scared to go on a single gods-damn date.

“Are you going to get out of the car, or are we going to sit here all night?” Lucien’s dry voice cut into her thoughts.

Feyre glared at him, not deigning to give a response other than a raised finger (try and guess which one) and getting out. She closed the door and turned around, checking her phone for the time before turning it on silent. It was only a few minutes before six-thirty, so he may or may not be there already.

Taking a moment—and making sure Lucien had already driven off—Feyre smoothed out her dress apprehensively. She was wearing a plain blue dress suited for a special occasion, but still simple enough not to be too flashy. Had she misjudged what to wear? Should she have with something more stylish? Or maybe more revealing, showing off more of her legs or breasts?

And her makeup—was it too plain? Should she have chosen better earrings? Should she be wearing more jewelry? Were her flats too drab?

Feyre almost wished Lucien had stayed to make sure she made it in the restaurant. Steeling herself for the inevitable letdown that tonight would be, Feyre went inside.

Before she had a chance to look around, she nearly ran into a man waiting at the entrance.

“Oh, you’re pretty.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

Feyre blinked. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” She was blushing and cursing herself for her lack of a filter.

Although, who could blame her? The man was dark-skinned, violet-eyed, and muscled, with dark, tousled hair and strong cheekbones. He was wearing an insanely hot dress shirt with the sleeves—the fucking sleeves—rolled up, revealing tattooed forearms. Pretty was a bit of an understatement.

The man was grinning now. The bastard probably had a lot of women telling him he was pretty. Feyre kicked herself internally.

“Well, if it makes it better, I think you’re pretty too.”

Feyre’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “Um, thanks. I should… I have a date… with um…” She trailed off, the man smirking all the while. And then she thought of something.

“You’re Rhys, aren’t you? I mean sure, there are plenty of other people here who could be Rhys, but I have the worst luck, and telling my date he’s pretty totally qualifies as bad luck. Fuck, I thought we’d at least make it to the table before I scared you away. Oh shit, I’m just making it worse now, aren’t I?”

Rhys, or the random guy Feyre was assuming to be Rhys, smiled. Not condescendingly or rudely in any way, just more of an amused expression. “I am Rhys. Which I think makes you Feyre?”

Feyre nodded sullenly.

“It takes more than a beautiful woman complimenting me to scare me away, don’t worry. Why don’t we sit down?”

Feyre’s face was crimson, she was sure of it. She hadn’t expected a compliment from him after that little incident. She tried to think of what Lucien would say right now. Don’t worry, it’ll be a fun story to tell your kids. Okay, not helping.

Trying to turn off her brain, admittedly without much success, Feyre nodded once more and let Rhys lead her over to a table by the window. It was mostly dark outside, so the choice of seating only allowed to give them some privacy as opposed to being in the middle of the room. Probably not a conscious choice on Rhys’ choice, but Feyre quite liked it.

He also pulled the chair out for Feyre to sit. What a gentleman.

Feyre awkwardly fumbled with the menu, trying not to stare at Rhys’ beautiful face.

“Have you been here before, Feyre?” So much for that.

She looked up. “No, I haven’t.”

“I’ve been a couple times. Of course you can get whatever you like, but I would recommend the braised pork. It was delicious.”

Feyre bit her lip. “It sounds good.”

The waiter came over just then and Rhys asked for the braised pork for himself, then Feyre said to make it two orders.

He left, and the pair was left in silence once more. “So, Rhys,” Feyre said, making an effort not to be entirely silent. “Tell me about yourself.”

He smiled. “I work as an architect. I like reading, sightseeing, and talking to interesting ladies. How about you?”

Feyre snorted. “I’m an artist. I like, well, painting I guess. And jogging. And talking to handsome men, I suppose I should say.”

Rhys full-on grinned. “Tell me about your work. Is it just paint, or other types of art?”

Feyre answered his question, and then a few more. She tried not to talk too much, not wanting to take over the conversation, but Rhys showed such a genuine interest in her passion that Feyre could help opening up. By the time the food arrived, he knew her style, her favorite colors to use, her methods of gaining inspiration, and her opinions on some classic pieces that Rhys seemed to know more than the average person about.

Then the waiter interrupted with their meal. Once everything was served and Feyre had already dug into the pork, which was even more delectable then Rhys had let on, he asked another question.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you decide to try out a blind date?”

Feyre finished chewing, using the time to think about how to answer his question properly. “I ended a bad relationship a few months ago, and I’ve been a bit lacking in confidence since then. I guess I’m just sick of spending my weekends alone. What about you?”

“I’ve been searching for a relationship for a while. I’m interested in the idea of spending my future with someone, so when Azriel suggested a date with you, I jumped at the chance.” Rhys seemed to reconsider his words. “Not that I would be spending my future with you, necessarily.” He paused. “I mean—”

“No, I get it,” Feyre cut in, not wanting to hear any more of this. “I’m not the type of person you want to be in a serious relationship with.” She had known all along. Rhys was charming and handsome and smart and funny and there was no reason he would want to spend his life with her of all people.

Rhys’ eyes widened. “No, not at all!” he exclaimed. “That came out wrong. I was only trying to take it back so as not to pressure you. I didn’t know how much you’d be okay with hearing me tell you how interested I was in you after saying I’m looking for a relationship.”

Feyre blinked, surprised to find that it hadn’t been a dismissal. Surprised at more than that. “Oh.”

Rhys smiled, the first signs of nervousness shining through his calm demeanor. “I like you, Feyre. We’ve only been talking for fifteen minutes, and already I like you. And I’m not getting too ahead of myself by claiming you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Not nearly this soon; hell, I just met you. But I do think you should know what I’m looking for so we can end this before it goes too far. If you’re not ready for something like that, I mean.”

Feyre was stunned. Rhys not only liked her, but enough to tell her something like that?

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, but I like you too,” she replied. And she meant it. Rhys was really nice, and very intriguing. She hadn’t considered what she wanted past a date. After all, she had been positive he would diss her by the end of it. But Feyre sure as hell wanted something with this man.

Rhys almost seemed surprised. “I’m not asking for commitment or anything like that. Certainly not on the first date. But maybe you can think over that later, and we can finish dinner now?”

Feyre smiled, still processing his words. “Okay.”

They dug in. There was less conversation than before, both because Feyre was too busy letting out content groans at the taste of the food and from the lingering awkwardness. But they did start talking more toward the end, Feyre snorting into her hand as she heard the end of some ridiculous story Rhys was telling her. By the time the waiter came over and let them know the restaurant was closing now, they’d returned to an animated conversation.

From everything to Rhys’ work as an architect to gossip about Azriel and Lucien to current events and old movies and bad jokes, it had crossed the discussion. Rhys was an exceptional conversationalist.

Rhys pulled out a wallet, but Feyre said, “We can split it.”

He glanced over. “I’ve got it, darling. Consider it my treat.”

Trying to suppress a shiver at the new nickname, Feyre said, “Really, I can help out.”

“Persistent, aren’t you? Maybe I’ll let you buy me coffee next time.”

Feyre knew he was teasing; there was no doubt he would refuse to let her pay next time. He seemed like the kind of guy to insist. Still, Feyre was more than satisfied with hearing that there would be a next time.

Disappointed with the fact they had to leave, but definitely pleased with how the date had gone, Feyre stood. Rhys walked Feyre out in silence, the latter surprised to find how long they’d been chatting. The restaurant was almost empty.

Feyre pulled her phone out of her purse.

“No ride, darling?” Rhys had raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“No, my friend dropped me off. He was worried I would flee if he didn’t actually bring me here himself.”

Rhys grinned. “Would you have fled?”

“Probably,” Feyre admitted.

“Let me drive you home. No expectations,” he added hastily at Feyre’s expression. “Just so you don’t have to wait out here. It’s getting cold.”

“Alright,” she agreed, very appreciative.

She’d sent Lucien a text and he had shot back a message letting her know he would be on the way. Feyre swiftly sent another text.

nvm rhys is dropping me off

Then she followed Rhys over to his car, laughing when he opened the door for her with a bow. Feyre wished she was the one driving; it would have been easier to keep her eyes off of him if she had something to focus on.

“Am I really that pretty?” So he’d noticed.

Feyre scowled. “Shut up.”

Rhys chuckled and glanced over, then turned his eyes back to the road. “I had a really nice time tonight, Feyre.”

“Me too,” she said.

The only words passed between them after that were directions on how to find Feyre’s apartment, fairly close to the restaurant. They were a street over when Feyre pulled a scrap of a receipt out of her purse, as well as a pen—Lucien often made fun of her having everything in her purse, but it was useful—and wrote down her number. They parked and Rhys looked over.

“So you don’t have to contact me through Lucien next time,” she clarified, handing him the paper.

Rhys smiled and put the paper in his pocket.

“Thank you for the ride, Rhys.”

He frowned mockingly. “What kind of person do you think I am, darling? Didn’t you know the good guys walk their dates to the door?”

Feyre laughed and mumbled something, getting out. Rhys stepped out of the car as well. But Feyre was starting to get nervous that Rhys was expecting something from her. Tamlin always had, after all.

They reached Feyre’s door and she stopped. But before she could say goodnight, Rhys seemed to realize why she was so anxious. He was too observant for his own good.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Feyre. I didn’t walk you here because I required anything of you.”

She flushed. “It’s not that I thought you would, exactly, I guess it just… been a while since I’ve met a nice guy.”

Rhys looked very sympathetic. “I understand. And for you, Feyre, I couldn’t care less if you wanted to drag me in your apartment and have your way with me now or wait a year to so much as kiss me. You’re worth it.”

There was no way Feyre’s face at all resembled a normal color. Or her ears. Or her neck. Gods, she was positively reeling.

“Really?”

“I had fun with you,” was all Rhys said.

Feyre barely noticed herself leaning closer. “Maybe a goodnight kiss wouldn’t be so bad.”

Rhys’ lips twitched and he assessed the sincerity of the statement. He leaned in slowly, giving Feyre every chance to back away, before planting his lips softly on hers.

Feyre melted into the kiss, obsessed with the soft feel of his mouth. It only last a few seconds, and Rhys’ touch remained featherlight. He pulled back, grinning.

“Goodnight, Feyre.”

She leaned against the wall for support. She was probably swooning. “Goodnight.”

One last smirk was all she got before he turned and walked down the hall.

Making it into her apartment, Feyre tried to process what had happened.

She’d met the man and made a fool of herself. Still, he had been nice and showed an interest in her. Then he had said he desired a serious relationship with someone, and she was a good candidate. There had been some more startled deer-like behavior on her part and some more suaveness from him. Then he had been super gentlemanly about not expecting her to sleep with him.

Basically, he was all Feyre could have wished for—and then some.

Feyre groaned loudly, throwing one of her flats at the wall. Then the other. She wasn’t sure why she was angry. Probably just because she’d been so ridiculous tonight. Or maybe it was the pent-up up hormones.

Feyre glanced at her phone, saw about a dozen messages from Lucien telling her to have fun and “be safe.” She threw her phone on the couch and grumbled about what a nosy little asshole her best friend was.

Then she slumped to the floor.

Feyre was going to spend the rest of her life mooning over Rhys and making a fool of herself, she already knew it. And she was going to love every second of it.

Oh, she was screwed.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen // @feysand-loml // @infernoqueen19 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @midsizewitch // @sleeping-and-books // @story-scribbler // @thebonecarver

[feysandfeels]

ACOTAR 5 or 6?? (I don’t know which book is next)

Did someone ask for this? No, not really. Am I still going to theorize how the next book is going to go in length? Yes, yes I will. Also I’m doing a facemask that needs 20min to set in so like, I have time to kill. 

I have seen many saying that Azriel’s book is next because through him we will get Illyria, which still needs to be dealt with. Also through him we get Gwynriel and that. Even though I can definitely see the logic behind that, I thought I might throw in another option just for shits and giggles. 

This is more like a fever dream than anything. Don’t hold me to it, because I haven’t read these books with the academic rigorosity to come up with counter arguments as to why it’s Az’s and not Elain’s book that will come next. But, that being said, if I’m right I will say I told you so (lol). 

Also this will further my Elucien agenda so like... yeah you’ve been warned.

Why Elain?

Because I think it makes more sense to go have a book deal with one villain working up to Koshei, than to have Beron+Koshei as the big baddies in one final book. So like ACOSF was the human queen, ACOTAR 5 is Beron and then ACOTAR 6 ultimate baddie Koshei. And who is character that has ties to Beron? Lucien and who would Lucien’s book be with? exactly, Azriel. no I’m kidding, of course Elain. 

I also think Elain was a character that had a huge presence in this ACOSF despite having like three sentences. You could see her impact in the book and to me that was quite telling. 

ACOTAR 5: 

Right so we all can agree on a few things after being in this fandom for a couple of years or at least since the end of ACOSF: first, Elain and Lucien will deliver a Jane Austen type romance; second, it will entail a lot of court politics; and third, Elain is up to something and no one knows what it is. Yes? 

First Act:

Elain doing her suspicious stuff and we as the reader find out what it is and can already see the negative implications

Lucien still taking the brunt of the work in the SC, which is still utter chaos.

BoE content: Vassa is agitated because her curse is nowhere near close to being broken and time is running out. 

The IC finds out what Elain is been up to. I do think it has something to do with her wanting to go back to her human self. Cue the confrontation.

Meanwhile with Lucien: Vassa might attempt something it triggers a magical response from Koshei, an attack or something. Maybe Beron decides to make a move to the SC given that Tamlin is absent as a ruler. I don’t know, the point is we get a confrontation scene that sees Tamlin die to protect Lucien. Everyone is in shock because the HL of Spring just died, without heirs and close relatives. Where did the power go?

Lucien starts to feel it, but then he realizes that it’s not because it is happening to him.

Cue to Elain having her “i want to be human again I don’t care the cost” rant at the IC. Amren will call her a stupid girl, because that’s what she does. Then the power flows to her and she’s going to be hella confused, everyone in the IC is stunned and when Elain asks wtf just happened, Feyre will say: Tamlin died (because she can feel the shift of power of spring due to the kernel of power of spring that she has), so that means and Rhysand finishes the thought by saying that Elain is the new High Lady of the Spring Court (and the first cauldron-chosen high lady)

This means that now she has more ties to this fae world and can’t simply abandon them.

We will have some discussion about what to do next and Elain is all like “I don’t want to be High Lady I didn’t even want to be fae”. Trust someone in the IC, maybe Amren (since she has no problem with saying what everyone else is thinking in the bluntest-maybe even rudest way), to say that having Elain be HL of Spring would make everyone’s life easier given the unified Prythian front they must once again have because of the Koshei threat. Maybe it will even be Azriel and they will have the E/lriel fallout...

Lucien arrives at the NC to talk to Elain or well something. 

News spread about what happened and they know that Elain’s claim (if she chooses to make it) to the SC is a tad shaky and not everyone will accept it. Beron is like the fuck if you think I will accept this human-turned fae claim. The SC is an strategic location and I will take it for myself because it will be useful fo my Koshei-agenda.

Eris arrives like hello my dad is about to move his army to the SC so now is the time to kill him

And Elain is still like “i don’t want it”. Think Jon Snow in GoT.

Cue an Archeron confrontation of “you can’t run away from your responsabilities// life is not neat and sometimes it will throw at you things you thought you wouldn’t have thought you’d needed to take on// take a stance for once and think beyond your own plants”.

Details are blurry but she is like I need to leave here (the NC) because no one has my best interest at heart they are just doing what it’s politically best. But who might have my best interest at heart? That’s right, Lucien. She asks him for help or to leave or whatever.

Lucien is a politician and a courtier but for once, for fucking once he will do something that’s not for political gain (for the court he represents). He will help her because he wants to see her at peace. They go to the human lands with BoE.

The first act ends with one dead Tamlin, one unsure Elain, one willing to help regardless of the decision Lucien, and one war focused Beron. 

Second act:

The BoE content we have all been waiting for 

Vassa might be weak from whatever happened and Jurian is all worried. 

They see Elucien arrive and are like 👀👀👀👀. Lucien glares at them in a “say anything and i will in fact kill you” way. 

Elain starts to open up and mentions that if anything it should be Lucien who’s the HL and not her because he knows the territory and it suits his skillset. All she wanted to do was have a quiet life and see the world. 

Lucien says that if he were to make a claim he would need even more support from other courts, because if Elain’s claim is shaky at best, then his is like ... not great.

They agree that Lucien should travel to other courts to gather support because regardless whether it’s Elain or Lucien who will ascend to the Spring throne, they will need it. Elain asks if she can go with him because, as she said, she wanted to see more of the world. 

We also get an Eris Vanserra visit - or several - and Lucien starts to realize that Eris knows waaaaaaaaaaaay more than he has lead on. And that they need to work together because again, regardless of who takes the throne, Beron will fight it, but if Eris is on the Autumn throne he would offer support to either. 

Cue the Lads tour of Prythian ft. Politics-courtier plotline and the “how the fuck are we going to help Vassa” side quest.

Elain starts to learn more about what it takes to be a High Lady and about the territory of Spring and its people.

During visits to other courts one or two members of the IC will pop in and out.

Elucien slow burn + court romance begins (We have nice balls with tension because that’s how Jane Austen would have wanted it and this is nothing if not an austenian romance).

Elan will learn about Jessminda (that’s her name right?)

Lucien and Elain have a heart to heart one day and Lucien is like “I’ve never had a home that is mine, i’ve always owed it to someone else or it comes because they see me as a political pawn”.

Eventually another heart to heart about the complex grief (if you will) that Lucien must be feeling for Tamlin. 

When we get to the Day Court, we get the baby news. Not only are they trying to gather Helion’s support but also to figure out a spell to save Vassa. Doing something with a spell Lucien and Helion find out. I imagine that Feysand is in the DC because they are trying to keep tabs on how Elain is feeling regarding her High Lady position and they wanted to meet somewhere neutral; and so is Eris, because things are getting out of hand at the AC so they are trying to see what they should do. Also Feysand are nosy bitches so of course they would be there.

After the reveal, Lucien is shooketh and leaves, Elain leaves after him. It is raining. They get wet and he stops when he arrives at a temple (we love a good P&P reference) Lucien starts the monologue of what does this mean, who am i, I’ve always been alone and Elain cuts in and says that maybe in the past he’s been alone but that he will never be again; Lucien turns to face her and she walks up to him and kisses him like the Cauldron intended when it made them mates. 

We Eluciens are starting getting our well deserved smutt dishes. 

Third act:

Elain is still  a tad unsure about being a High Lady, because all she ever heard was that she was good at being pretty and an ornament, that she was meant to be the supporting role. Lucien is like “babes fuck what your mom said but no matter what you choose, I will choose you”. 

Finally shit hits the fan at the AC so that’s where Elucien go and Helion.. because LoA is there and he says fuck it imma go help her Beron can go fuck himself.

However they do not arrive at the palace or something like that but to another location where we can finally have visual proof of what Eris has been up to. LoA appears. Her and Helion have a nice tête-a-tête. 

Vassa and Jurian are there too beause #WereGoingToNeedAllTheHelpWeCanGet

Elucien formally arrive to Beron’s court, as is the plan. 

The tension is absurd, the coup is about to happen, something goes wrong, they need to think of their feet, somebody gets hurt.. you know the usual stuff. 

They use the spell to free Vassa and in such release of power Beron is confused and weakened

Lady of Autumn delivers the killing blow. Beron dies, power goes to Eris and everyone is like did we win??

Eris makes the joke that whichever half of Elucien will make the claim to the SC he will support it. By this moment is clear that Elain will take up the role so we all have a good laugh.

Archeron sister reunion, congratulations all around. Maybe a celebration in the SC??? or maybe that’s too tacky given that the whole court is still a mess,

Happy ending?? oh wait there’s something more uh-oh, when freeing Vassa you also freed Koshei. Oh you thought you had weakened Koshei by killing is Prythian ally? think again. Koshei is a god of death that now has full access to his powers. 

The end. 

[acourtofthought]

Someone: "will we have Elain's POV in the next book?"

Sjm: "well, she'll still exist like she did before"

El/riel: "oH mY bLeEb- eLriEl cOnFiRmEd"

I honestly hated her answer because the question wasn't really answered. She said "she'll be there in some form" like yeah, we know she'll be there in the upcoming books but as what? Side character? Main character?. "Some form" can mean literally anything, but to me it sounded like we'll see her but not as an important character.

I'm not really mad at sjm tho, because she hasn't started writing the book and she can't say anything about the next couple, what gets me is that a large part of the fandom took a meaningless answer as ship confirmed.

Is the fandom so starved that they really take any random words out of context and make it into a big thing? Like the bread and roses line, the color that Elain wore only once in acomaf (as if Mor doesn't wear red, the color of Cassian siphons, everyday) etc.

Or whenever Sarah posts something and they pick out random sh*t that they see in the pic and comment "Oh I see what you did there 😉🦇🌸"- what did she do there? Putting flowers next to a book as decoration?

Everyone forgets that Sjm doesn't think about ships 24/7. She legit doesn't care about gwynriel, elriel, elucien etc. And it shows. If she did care that much like so many do, she would've already finished writing acotar 5. Sarah, unlike so many people here, has a life to live. She has kids to take care of, a husband, family and friends, A TV Show, CC3, her Hobbys and interests etc. She got barely time to think about ships now. But if she did thought about ships all the time it would be Feysand or Nessian, Bryathalar, Rowaelin etc. None of the ships the fandom are fighting over are stronger compared to Feysand. She'll always love them over Gwynriel, El/riel and Elucien.

Like.. Just because you think about these ships 24/7 doesn't mean Sarah does as well. She seemed rather dissapointed at the questions she got asked and I know it annoys her that the majority is only asking about ships. I'd be very annoyed too.

Many people were complaining about how they got nothing from that Interview but we literally did? We got so much about Nesta and her journey. The Interview wasn't suppose to be about acotar 5 anyway, are they stupid?

If they didn't think about ships for just one day and asked normal questions, we would've gotten more. Haven't they figured out yet that she can't say anything about acotar 5 and the next couple?! Like you cannot keep asking question that she can't even answer and complain about why she gave you nothing.

Yeah that non answer was no answer at all, I don't really care how people spin it. Especially because 50% could say it means one thing while the other half says it means the exact opposite. When something is that ambiguous, it's foolish to think it's a guarantee of anything.

If SJM is contractually obligated not to share information before Bloomsbury allows it then I don't think she's going to risk breaking contract by sneaking information into interviews that's confirmation of something.

If anything, it seems more likely that she'd say the exact opposite of the truth just to throw everyone off. And it's not just the words she's saying but the way she avoids the question at first, shifts her eyes around and laughs while she's answering. All of that adds up to not being able to take anything said very seriously.

I am disappointed we got no new information. I wish she were at the point with the series where she was permitted to discuss it but if it's a contract thing than I understand. I think what upset me the most though, is getting charged $15 for an interview that was pretty much the same information she's given in past interviews. That felt like a tiny slap in the face because charging fans two years after the initial release of a book and recycling past conversations people can now watch for free was a bitter pill to swallow.

[mmvalentine]

But You pt 1 | Feysand

Modern AU, college-y sort of. Part 2

Feyre worried about Rhys going to college. Of course his grades were impeccable, it’s just that he had never been very good at making friends. When they were in the second grade, the teacher had asked them all to say what their dream world might look like, and where all the other kids had said things like “a world with unicorns” or “a world where we have swords for hands,” Rhys had said “a world where everyone is warm and comfy and loved.” And then one of the boys had laughed at him, called him stupid, and then stalked around the room chopping everyone down with his sword-hands. By the time the teacher had calmed everyone down and gotten them to sit back in the centre of the room, she had quite forgotten little Rhys, who was hiding under a table. Feyre, always a watchful, observant creature, had brought him pillows from the reading nook, and set up camp with him beneath the desk.

She was pretty sure that was the last time Rhys had made a friend. Because they were inseparable all through primary school and middle school, and when Feyre started making more friends in high school, Rhys just wandered off to the library.

“Don’t you want to stay and sit with us?” Feyre would ask him. Rhys just smiled and shrugged, and then sauntered off to be with his books instead.

Of course, Rhys wasn’t antisocial or anything. In fact he had always been so sensitive. And he needed so much physical affection- had toned it down as they progressed through school, but still spent most afternoons sprawled over the foot of Feyre’s bed, a leg or hip against hers, as long as they always had one point of contact. He had one or two romantic entanglements, but they never seemed to last long. Feyre wondered sometimes whether Rhys had decided early on that people were callous and cruel, and most weren’t worth the risk.

So when she got into a college on the opposite coast, and Rhys got a scholarship somewhere up north, Feyre seriously worried about what might happen to him left to his own devices.

Rhys had rolled his eyes when she broached the subject.

“I’ll be fine, Feyre darling,” he said. “Look at me. I’m unreasonably handsome.” “And has that helped you make any friends in high school?” Feyre had demanded, eyebrows raised. “It helped me get you,” he said with a rakish grin. “And you are all I need.” “Right but you won’t have me in six weeks,” Feyre said, feeling like she was going in circles. Rhys only shrugged. “I’ll be fine,” was all he said.

In the end Feyre decided that Rhys was just less in need of people than she was. She had always enjoyed company, and bouncing ideas off people. Rhys lived more inside himself.

And so she packed up for college, said goodbye to her friends, and went to one last party before she was due to drive off the next morning. Rhys hadn't wanted to come, of course, he never did. Truth be told, she felt a little disappointed but not surprised. It would have been nice to hang out one more time before she left.

Disappointments aside, Feyre was ecstatic to be leaving her hometown. It was small, and dingy, and contained her two awful sisters and she just knew she would go and never look back. She hoped Rhys would be able to do the same thing.

Feyre left the house wearing a scandalous silver dress. It was such a conservative town, she knew she'd be getting looks but screw it, she was leaving tomorrow. She took the bus to the sorry excuse for a bar the town had, and as she looked out the window she couldn't say she would miss any of this.

The bar had stained carpets and flickering lights. For some reason, Alis was devoted to it and was here most weekends. Feyre had turned her down many times, but figured it was as good a place as any to spend her last night in town. Lucien was already there too, taking up half the booth with his long limbs.

"Feyre!" Alis squealed. She hugged her friend tightly, and then Lucien pushed two shot glasses toward her as she sat down. "You're two behind Feyre, drink up."

And that would be the last clear thing that Feyre remembered from that night.

Hours later, she swayed on her front door step and tried to open the door without waking anyone. This was particularly difficult because the keyhole kept moving.

She managed to get herself up the stairs without anyone coming out, and closed her bedroom door behind herself thankfully. Dropped her purse on the ground, threw her coat over the chair, and stumbled toward the bed.

Where Rhys was sitting, his legs crossed at the ankles and his back against the headboard, with a bemused smirk on his handsome face.

"Hello, Feyre darling," he said. "Rhys? How did you get in here?" Rhys shrugged. "Through the window." "I'm on the second floor." "I climbed." Feyre's alcohol addled brain struggled to put this together.

"Okay..." she said. "But, what are you doing here?" Rhys fiddled with a loose thread on Feyre's duvet cover. "Wanted to see you," he said. "I invited you out tonight." Rhys rolled his eyes. "Yeah but I hate those guys. I just want to see you."

Feyre walked unsteadily round the side of the bed and sat down next to Rhys.

"You always just want to see me, Rhys," she said. "Come on seriously, you know you're going to have to talk to other people at college." "I hate other people." "You hate everyone." "I don't hate you."

Feyre just peered at him until he squirmed.

"Okay, okay, I promise I'll talk to people at college. Now can you take that ridiculous thing off and come hang out with me?" Feyre sighed. "Fine. Turn." She circled her finger in the air, indicating for Rhys to face away from her. He huffed but then turned his back obediently, and she got out of her ridiculous dress and into flannel pyjama pants.

"Rhys," she said. "Are you sitting on my t-shirt?" "I don't think so?" Rhys said. He pulled off his own shirt and held it out to her without turning. "Here," he said. "You can have mine." "Well aren't you a gentleman," Feyre said. "You know this is my house, I have a whole wardrobe full of t-shirts." But tired as she was, she pulled it on anyway, and slid into bed.

Rhys turned when Feyre told him it was okay. "I know, but I like you in my clothes," he said. And snuggled down next to her.

"Hey," she said. "You can't sleep in here." "Why not?" Rhys asked. "I've slept in here plenty of times." "You're usually on the floor." "But you're leaving me tomorrow," Rhys complained. "Can't I just stay tonight?"

Feyre sighed. The alcohol still sloshing through her veins was making her sleepy, and made it hard to care about anything.

"Sure," she said. "I don't know why you don't just sleep in your own bed." "Because you aren't in it," Rhys said with a grin. Feyre frowned. "Turn off the lights, would you." She closed her eyes.

A second later, the room was peacefully dark, and Rhys laid his head down on the pillow next to hers.

"You know," he said more quietly. "I used to sleep up here." "Sure, when we were kids," Feyre said. She yawned. "I wish I could do it every night," Rhys murmured. "Why?" Feyre asked. Even though she was lying down now, the room still spun somehow. "Because I miss you when you're not there," he whispered. "Well what are you going to do when I'm at college?" she asked, and the words were like cotton in her mouth. "Think about you everyday," Rhys said, "and wish that I had told you when you were sober that I have no idea what I'm going to do without you and I've never been so scared in my life."

But Feyre was asleep by that point, and wouldn't remember that Rhys kissed her forehead before closing his eyes too.

****

HOKAY phew I really hit a wall there and was panicking a bit so I am very happy to be back in a chapter fic. Big ol' thanks and also smooshy kisses to my brain trust @feyrearcherons and @asteria-of-mars for getting me over the line.

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @tillyrubes10 @feysand-babies @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist

MASTERLIST

[rhysismydaddy]

An Artful Revenge pt. 6 (Feysand)

Part of the Damnation series. 

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

This is the last part of this fic! Gonna work on some asks next, then start the Nessian story (see the link above for details) 

~Feyre~

Men, in general, are beyond stupid.

I honestly don’t even know how the male population is still around.

I mean sure, they have their moments. Fire? Pretty cool. 

Maybe I should amend my statement: Men are stupid when it comes to women.

Because if Tamlin had any common sense, he would wonder why I drag myself into his office downtown, the day after I found out who he really is.

He’d wonder how I even found his posh little office, since he sure as hell never told me about it. (Answer: Rhysand). 

He’d wonder why I’m crying and having an emotional breakdown, but am still dressed in a lowcut dress with my hair done. (Answer: men are even stupider when it comes to a woman with exposed breasts). 

But he doesn’t.

He sees me stumbling toward him, a mess of tears and fluffy hair, and jumps to his feet, coming to my rescue.

His arms wrap around me miraculously at the same time my legs give out, and I fall into him dramatically. 

That was a little much, but what can I say? I was a theatre kid.

“Feyre,” he says calmly, stroking my hair like he didn’t insult me twenty-four hours ago. In fact, he’s acting like we didn’t even break up. “What’s wrong?”

I press my face in his shoulder, trying not to think about how wrong this feels, how wrong he smells. 

Rhysand smells like citrus and the sea and something so manly it makes my knees go weak for real. Tamlin smells like dirt and bad decisions. 

“You were right.” It’s something all men love to hear a woman say, even though it’s hardly ever true. “You were so right, Tamlin.”

He pulls back and runs a thumb over my cheek, swiping a tear away. 

His green eyes question mine, so calm and understanding compared to yesterday’s rage. His hands are gentle as they cradle my face, and I want them off off off.

“He’s a monster,” I wail, dredging up some more tears. Knowing there needs to be more of a concrete reason for my breakdown, I make some pretty seedy shit up. “He... killed his driver! Because he took a wrong turn!”

Gods, Feyre. Really?

I can practically see Rhysand rolling his eyes. He’d see through my lies in a second. 

Tamlin, however, bites the bait... more like he swallows the whole damn line.

He hugs me again, so tight my feet leave the floor, and I go limp against him, pressing all the soft parts of me against the hardness of his chest.

Don’t get me wrong, Tamlin’s attractive. Wide shoulders, surfer boy hair, tan skin, and green eyes that look like the deepest of emerald. 

But he also is a fucking asshole, and everything about him irritates me.

It’s crazy, I think as his hands slip lower on my back, that yesterday he called me a whore, and now he wants to sleep with me.

Prick.

“Tamlin,” I sigh against his neck.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

I almost throw up at the little pet name, but I nod and act like he’s the greatest thing on this planet, the gods’ personal gift to all things women.

But then he kisses me, and I get tired of this little charade. 

I keep my eyes open as his warm lips meet mine, wanting to see his face as the needle sinks into his skin.

His eyes fly open, and he drops me to my feet roughly, a hand pressed against his neck. It’s too late, of course.

Whatever black market shit this is, it works fast. 

His legs give out, and I shove his shoulder so he lands in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. 

“Feyre,” he growls, no longer happy to see me, “What the fuck are you doing?”

I roll my eyes, because even the dumbest of men should be able to figure that out my now. 

You’d think he’d pass out or be too paralyzed to talk, but just like Rhysand promised me, the drugs have paralyzed him from the neck down but left him perfectly conscious. 

I want him to see exactly what I’m doing.

Straightening my dress, I saunter over to his desk, eyes scanning the messy papers and folders for what I want.

Three rings, the exact copy of Rhysand’s, sit in a glass box, the shining titanium making them look like treasure. And they are.

But they’ve been here fucking long enough. 

I try to open the box, but it’s locked, so I sigh and grab a paperweight, then smash it to bits.

“You do this, Feyre, and I’ll come after you.”

“Ooooh, scary,” I deadpan, completely writing him off in a way I know drives him crazy.

Glass flies everywhere, but I just grab the rings and put them on whatever fingers they’ll fit on. 

Yet another piece of evidence men are idiots: I was wearing Rhysand’s ring when I walked in here.

A small detail, sure, but when I took that ring from him yesterday in his car, I made a vow to never take it off.

It’s a little big, resting on my thumb, but it’s perfect. 

It means I’m his, and he’s mine.

“He might have Chicago, but I’ll make you’re life miserable!”

“You did that for two years,” I remind him with a smile.

Then I set the radio exactly like I’d been told to, turn back to Tamlin, punch him square in the jaw, and smile when I hear a crunch.

That wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but I was tired of his threats. 

He howls in pain, and I know it makes me meaner than an adder, but I blow him a kiss and laugh as I walk out of his office. 

A sleek black sedan, driven by the very much alive Rolando (I’ve officially stopped thinking of him as Beefcakes), waits for me at the curb. I swing the door open and climb in, turning to Rhysand with a grin.

I hold up my hands victory. 

Rhysand smiles and laughs, relief and love and awe written across his beautiful features. 

He’s so fucking handsome, I can’t hold out anymore.

Muttering an apology to Rolando for what he’s about to witness, I sling myself across the leather seat and pretty much attack Rhysand. 

It might be the fact that I just drugged someone with illegal substances--my very first crime!--or maybe just how he looks when he’s happy. I don’t really care.

My hands are on his jaw, running down his chest, tangling in his hair. 

He lets out a surprised laugh as I paw at him, and I use the opportunity to sweep my tongue into his mouth, holding back a moan at the taste of him.

The car stops, but I sure as hell don’t.

Until Rhysand takes me shoulders in his hands, and gently pulls away. “Adrenaline junkie,” he accuses with a smile, pressing one last kiss to my cheek. 

I nod, because it’s probably true.

He gives me an amused look. “Then I can’t wait for what happens in twenty minutes.”

I stick my tongue out at him, ever the mature adult, and he smiles. Then he takes my hands, examines the rings, and takes the two that fit the worst.

He slips them on, and even though it’s a casual gesture, I almost break out into tears.

Too manly to cry like a baby, Rhysand just opens the door and walks out, taking my hand and pulling me with him.

Even though he looks calm and cool as a cucumber, I know he’s not exactly thrilled I’m here. We had our first real argument about me coming along for this part of the plan I’ve secretly begun to call Toppling Tamlin the Tool. 

I won, obviously.

He warned me time and time again about what I was going to witness today, but I don’t care. His revenge is his to take, but I want to be here for him. 

He’s been fighting for so long, completely alone. 

And no matter how it started, I fell for him. He isn’t alone anymore, and won’t be ever again, no matter how dangerous the situation is.

Hand in hand, we stroll into Leperchaun’s Luck, the last remaining Irish stronghold in Chicago.

When I asked why he’d let it remain all this time, Rhysand smiled that cruel smile and said, “Revenge is only worth it if it’s slow and painful.”

I’d shuddered, half in horror and half in excitement.

I know it’s horrible and beyond absurd, but what he does for a living doesn’t scare me. He explained the gory details last night, and I listened. And even though I was scared, it wasn’t of him.

It was for him.

He has enemies with rap sheets longer than my arm. 

The guy Rhysand blocks from buying Degas? Russian arms dealer!

But Chicago, he’d told me with a smile, is his. Someone would have to be suicidal to come after him here. So I guess I’ll just blow up his plane and never let him leave.

Sounds realistic.

I’d like to think it was my smile and charm that made him give in and let me tag along, but it was likely the fact that we aren’t in any super big dangerous. 

We walk through the empty bar and to the courtyard in the back, and it’s a little amusing how quickly the six men sitting around a poker table jump to their feet and start shouting questions. 

“What the fuck?” is the most popular. 

“Hello, gentlemen,” Rhysand greets smoothly, ever the gentleman. 

Someone behind us loads a gun, the sound making my eyes go wide. 

But it’s never fired.

Because all of a sudden, red dots are on every single chest besides mine and Rhysand’s. 

“Pull that trigger, McCallen, and all your friends die.”

They all look down and around at each other with huge, saucer-sized eyes. 

Not one to dally, Rhysand smiles and tells the group, “I just bought this establishment. Needless to say, you’re no longer welcome. In here, or Chicago. You have six hours to leave my city.”

‘Bought’ is a bit of a strong word. He hacked into Tamlin’s bank account and bankrupted him, forcing him to sell to the highest bidder. Guess who that was.

“Or what?” one asks, feeling brave.

Another dot makes its way to his chest.

Gods, how many snipers does Rhysand have?

“Or you’ll die, and your precious little daughter Lena will be an orphan.”

The man’s jaw sets, even as his face pales. 

Checking his watch with a casual gesture, Rhysand reminds, “Six hours and counting.”

Then he says, directly at the small box in the middle of the poker table, “That goes for you too, Tamlin.” 

Since he didn’t want to risk coming back to Chicago, much less his last property here, Tamlin had been keeping control of his men by listening to everything that happened in this place on a private radio frequency.

Which, somehow, Rhysand knew.

He’d told me the number, and I’d turned the radio in Tamlin’s office to it before leaving. The drugs haven’t left his system and won’t until later today, meaning he’s still lying limp in that chair, listening to every word.

“Leave before I lose my patience,” Rhysand growls, and the men take the warning and haul ass out of the building.

Turning to me, he smiles and asks, “Ready, Feyre darling?”

“Ready.”

We walk out of the restaurant again, pep definitely in our steps, then get back in the car. Rolando starts driving immediately, leaving the restaurant behind us.

“Do you want to-”

“Yes,” I answer immediately, grabbing the phone from him and hitting call.

"So violent,” he murmurs with a smirk, turning in his seat to watch as the explosives he’d placed there years ago during a mandatory “city inspection” finally came into use. 

The explanation I got on that one: “In case I got bored.”

Gods, he’s sexy.

The car rocks slightly as orange and blue and yellow flames race out of the building, leaving absolutely nothing behind. 

Even though the violent woman in me wants to keep watching, I look at Rhysand instead.

His eyes find mine, and he smiles softly. “It’s done. It’s over.”

I nod and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, linking our hands together. We both stare down at the rings. “It’s over.”

Tamlin will run back to wherever he’s been the past seven months, and since there’s absolutely nothing for him here, he won’t come back. 

Rhysand has complete control of the city again, his empire built brick by brick through hard work and rage. He’s gotten his revenge, taken everything from the man who left him with nothing. 

And he got me.

“Was that enough adrenaline for you, Feyre?” he asks, hitting a button to roll up the barrier between us and Rolando. 

Someone else, it seems, is an adrenaline junkie. 

Smiling, I slide down on the soft leather and lift an eyebrow. “Come find out.”

~Feyre, three months later~

Somehow, I feel nauseous, excited, and doomed all at once.

I don’t even know how that’s possible, but it’s true.

I’m so nervous, I might be sick. I’m so excited, I can hardly walk. I’m so unsure of myself, I might fail. 

Focusing on the one in the middle, I walk down the aisle between chairs, ignoring the people watching me and focusing on the destination.

I can feel his eyes on me, and just like the first day we met, I can hardly breathe. But I ignore the tingly feeling in my spine and focus on what I’m doing.

I walk up to the slightly lifted stage in the large auditorium and turn to my peers, smiling and feigning confidence. 

I’m presenting my senior project today. And even though I’m excited and nervous and doomed, I’m proud of it.

It turned out better than I expected, honestly. 

It took me forever to finish the painting aspect because I wasn’t quite satisfied until late last night. 

The paint’s interrupted and surrounded by photos I’ve collected this year.

Rhysand, covered in paint. Art from both Chicago’s museum and the private collection I visit almost every day. Random bits of architecture and the night sky and shots that just work. 

Up close, it’s a bit of a mess, but from a distance--particularly, the distance between me and Rhysand’s chair--it looks like three dancers, twirling and leaping under the night sky. 

My professor hugged me when she saw it. So did Rhysand.

No offense to Prof. Jones, but I enjoyed his a little more.

“This is called Starlight Dancers,” I tell the room, my voice surprisingly level. I’m glad for the bright lights, because I can’t see anyone’s actual face as I continue. “It’s a rendition of Degas’s work, Dancers in Blue, which is my favorite piece. I’ve also incorporated photographs of art and people who mean a lot to me. Like a lot of pieces from the Renaissance, it’s meant to be viewed at a distance.”

I keep talking, going through the difference elements and explaining how, essentially, it’s a celebration of painting and love.

More than once, my eyes are drawn to the photographs of Rhysand, and I find myself searching for him in the crowd. 

I also get a little distracted by the mass of sparkles adorning my ring finger.

We’ve been engaged for three days, eight hours, and a handful of minutes.

He proposed in the museum, right where we met. When I almost feinted at the site of the biggest diamond I’d ever seen and told him it was too much, he’d just laughed and said, “It was this or the painting behind you.”

Ridiculous, wonderful man. 

I know it’s fast to get married after less than five months together, but the scary truth is that I can’t imagine life without him.

I scan the crowd again, and it might be my imagination, but I think I see a pair of violet eyes watching me. 

And I could swear one winks at me.

~Rhysand~

I’m not supposed to be in here.

I’m not a professor, and I’m sure as shit not a student. 

But I snuck in anyway, ignoring the millions of things I actually need to be doing, because I want to support her. 

I don’t even know what she’s talking about--impressionism and romantic elements and different types of photography--but she’s so passionate and beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off her.

She has me completely wrapped around her finger, and it should probably scare me that I don’t even care.

Years and years of planning, and everything that’s happened in the past month still surprised me.

Not the part about running every last Irish bastard out of my city; that’d been set in stone. 

The part about me getting engaged.

Ironically, that’s the only part that makes me smile.

Sure, I sent Tamlin running for the hills with his ragged band of leprechauns, set his stronghold on fire, and finally have peace over what happened all those years ago. 

But even that pales in comparison to waking up next to the woman up on the stage.

She’s a bed hog and always puts her freezing feet on me as soon as I crawl next to her, but the way she smiles at me when she wakes up makes up for it.

Everything about her makes up for it, actually. 

She’s still absolutely crazy and wonderful and I now have paint splatters on more than a few of my suits, but being loved by her is like... standing in the sun after being locked in a cave. Or some other shitty metaphor.

The fucking point is, even though getting down on one knee in a museum and asking her to share her life with me is the last thing I expected to happen, I’m glad it did.

Because being with her gives me something I’d thought I’d lost ten years ago: happiness.

________________________________________

Thank you for reading! 

TAGS: @elorcan-trash​ @januarystears​ @emikadreams​ @alpha-omegas​ @joyceortiz13​ @sapphic-beauty​ @meowsekai​ @ahappyhistorianreader​ @courtofjurdan​ @acalypsot​ @acourtofsjmtrash​ @highladyofthesith @bookwormq702 @swankii-art-teacher​ @lunaroseperdomo​ @leaf-love-life​ @mari-highladyof-feels​ @raghad-50725​ @perseusannabeth​ @cursebreaker29​ @a-bit-of-a-cactus​ @elriel4life​ @girl-who-reads-the-books​ @shinya-hiiragi​ @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @highqueenofelfhame​ @nahthanks​ @ghostlyrose2​ @lovemollywho​ @tillyrubes10 @claralady​ @tswaney17​ @rowanisahunk​ @superspiritfestival​ @thegoddessofyou​ @awesomelena555​  @booksofthemoon​ @greerlunna​ @jlinez​ @studyliketate​ @over300books​ @justgiu12​ @maastrash​ @aesthetics-11​ @bamchickawowow​ @b00kworm​ @sleeping-and-books​ @musicmaam​ @hizqueen4life​ @maybekindasortaace​

[flowerflamestars]

⭐ do you have any crumbs about tidal? ⭐

TIDAL MY MONSTER CHILD MASTERPIECE

Endless crumbs, but I'm going to try to remain circumspect. Three fun scenes. Bold for commentary from here on out!

Cassian knew all the rumors.

Cassian has been ACTIVELY SEEKING OUT THE RUMORS. Their careers circle each other- their stats make them nearly level on a playing field that barely even exists. Cassian thinks Nesta in combat is like...the platonic ideal of a drift pilot.

All the stories- Serene Majesty’s design included armor made from Kaiju bone (TRUE, THANKS PROFESSOR VANSERRA), Serene was painted to match the exact blue shade of her older pilot’s eyes (False, but a very sexy coincidence that absolutely made it into war propaganda), Serene’s nuclear core was the oldest still running, and they were lucky she hadn’t melted the ocean floor of the Bering Strait right down to the mantle.

Fact: Nesta Archeron had solo piloted forty-one minutes longer than the nearest record holder, who’d died in minute sixteen.

Can you hear Cassian's admiration? That LONGING for partnership. The raw appreciation of skill. MHM BABE YOU ARE NOT LOOKING RESPECTFULLY AND YOU KNOW IT Story: Nesta Archeron called him a patchwork dickbag within moments of meeting him, and proceeded to kick his ass, before they even let them drop test.

Picture, if you will, the very Fun Mako/Raleigh fight with the poles? the compatibility test? Right. That. Tank tops. Barren light and sweaty skin. REALLY GOOD HAIR. But a hand-to-hand fight.

Cassian: oh fun yes fuck let's do this lets see how we move together, come play Archeron

Nesta: walks right up to him and clocks him

The first thing Elain said when she saw Asani was, “Oh, Nesta.”

And despite the fact that Nesta felt more like climbing bare through the Breach than getting in a jaeger with the man, she knew what her sister was seeing. The smile- two dimples on the right but one of the left. Close-cropped dark curls getting just long enough to assert themselves.

Shoulder and arms and everything that matched the face saying- you’re looking at a sculpture. You’re looking at a person whose whole being might as well have been idealized from an artists eyes.

14 drops, 12 kills. Only two back to back drops in the same jaeger.

Hand to hand combat elite. Muay Thai. Second generation marine.

Charm that had cracked Amren.

Elain: Nesta that man is more your type than Your Type. HE CAN KEEP UP WITH YOU. He's not afraid of you. “I know,” Nesta said. Nesta: YES I WANT TO CLIMB THAT MOUNTAIN

Elain arched a pale brow- different color, same shape- and hummed. “And he’s?” Elain: a perfect lock, a fucking doom, a sync so deep and long lasting you probably can't drift with ANYONE ELSE? “Yep.” Nesta: Yes. Nesta to Nesta: SO I'M PROBABLY GOING TO END UP ACCIDENTALLY KILLING HIM IN FUCKING DRIFT LIKE I DID YOU- THAT PERFECT STUPID ASSHOLE- Quietly, Elain swore.

She stole the binder out of his hand- they both pretended he hadn’t already been holding it out, that their reaches hadn’t perfectly, on time, overlapped. STILL GHOSTING BESTIES

She opened it. “Mhmm. Where are we from? Easy, we’re both American. Do we have siblings?” She snickered. “Yes. Where did we go to school? Places that are under the ocean now.”

GUYS guys guys they are both from places that no longer EXIST. They both came of age in war! they both, in a fucked way, thrive in the war. It's what they have- the infinite drift, purpose, and their siblings who are a direct part of that. Cassian tried to take the binder back. She shut it on his hand. “That gave us the childhood trauma book?” AMREN IS GOOD AT HER JOB (AND FUCKING WITH NESTA) She flicked the hand he hadn’t moved, lodged between the pages. “Origin stories, Asani.” Nesta is a fucking NERD and she likes the shape of Cassian's name in her mouth. “We already know all of this, Archeron,” He sighed, and she finally let him pull back. “Wanna flip?” It seemed like a trap- it felt like…fun. Cassian had the distinctly wild thought that Nesta must have been a nightmare in first level training, and half wished he’d seen it. Had her voice already contained that murder drawl at sixteen?

The only thing messier than baby! Feysand would have been Baby Nessian. It would have been on sight. It would have been a CATASTROPHE. they would have fucked it up so hard and then longed for each other for years until like...out of the blue eloping the very next time they crossed paths. No hesitation.

Cassian leaned forward, propped elbows on knees. “Go ahead.” He might have said it like a challenge- Nesta’s face might have brightened in catlike pleasure.

“Cassian Karam Asani. Twenty-seven years old, in service since your eighteenth birthday.” She was watching his face, and Cassian could do little but stare back. “You grew up on the East coast. Have an older brother. You’re a caffeine addict who likes to box. Dad died when you were ten.You have your mother’s green eyes and your paternal grandfathers face.” Her gaze flickered up, caught him.

Cassian could hear his heart hammering in his chest, pull from the rise and fall of his ribs too fast. “That’s not in my file.”

Cassian to the world: calm, cheerful, good at his job. Cassian to himself: Sure I'm Good at this Sure I Can Feel Her in my BONES- sure i definitely fucked this up- there's no way nESTA WANTS TO KNOW ME- SHE CAN'T POSSIBLY-

Nesta: it's real bitch “We dropped, Asani.” More than a drop, a successful drift. He didn’t need to say it, Nesta was already sniping in victory. “You love strawberry matcha cake.” “I can make it, too,” Cassian shot, with forced lightness.

Cassian: I COULD MAKE IT FOR YOU? what else did you see? if I'm yours...you're mine? please.

“Nesta Iseult Archeron. West Coast. Your mom taught literature, which is how you got that name. She died when you were twelve. You’re the older sister. You’re also a caffeine addict. Three tattoos. You miss sparring with your sister, and it makes you feel like shit. You horde Korean moisturizer.” “Eight tattoos.” She didn’t mean herself. SHE'S GOING TO LEARN THEM WITH HER TEETH YALL

“You hate the color blue.” hELLO, Trauma She laughed, and it wasn’t particularly joyful. “Your brother’s downstairs in the labs.” “Wrong.” Realer smile, he wanted to keep talking, “I have two.”

Nesta recrossed her legs, the entire table monopolized. “Middle child?’

An outstretched brown hand, tilted back and forth, “Azriel is only a year older than me. My other brother is…more complicated. Much younger. Az and I half raised him, but we don’t really talk.” And Nesta, mystifyingly said, “Me too. Two sisters, I mean.” She rolled her shoulders, made a face that said fuck, as her mouth continued with, “I’ve been trying to keep her out of a jaeger since she was fourteen.”

Nesta casts them IN THE SAME ROLE in her head. The middle child thing trips her for precisely two seconds and then. of course. Yeah, of course. “Three Archerons in the corps? Thats”- “The Admiralties wet dream, I know. She’s good- she’s so, so good, but I’m trying to make sure she grows up first.”

Nesta: OVER MY DEAD FUCKNG BODY WILL MY BABY SISTER GO FIGHT THIS WAR

“Rhys can’t drift. He’s Airforce now, incredible- twenty years ago, he’d be on tract to be an astronaut, but now-“ I loved making Rhys finally bad at something? He's a smart, angry kid thrashing around in a difficult world. He's SO CLASSICALLY YOUNG AND STUPID ABOUT EVERYTHING “Now the world is gone to shit?” “Tried to, at least.” Her laugh was nearly silent, small. Real.

Cassian looked at Nesta, and Nesta looked at Cassian.

The Look. The i SEE YOU AND YOU SEE ME, no this changes nothing, no this changes everything Look-

Amren is very, very, VERY good at her job, have I mentioned that?

[ratabrasileira]

Feysand babies + IC!

I love a happy and funny familly so here I go:

Feysand had three kids: two boys and a girl

Nyx, the first-born, is the little rascal; he loves to do some mess with Uncle Cass as well training with him.

Acmon, the middle-child, is a male miniature from Feyre and a true courtier; he is more reserverd than his siblings, but it doesn't mean that he isn't the one who gives bad ideas to them.

Nemesis, the youngest, is so lovely... she inhereted her father features and has the same wrapped by her fingers; likely because her personality's too similar with Feyre's.

Since SJM change her mind about pregnancy being rare gave me this idea, I like to think that Feyre's very fertille, so her children have little difference of age, what make those kids very close and protective with each other.

All of them have wings !! All of them are very powerful...

They LOVE LOVE LOVE their parents; they will defend them with all cost and if you dare to say something bad about Feyre and Rhys... prepare yourself to find your favorite clothe ripped or your favorite book all painted and smashed or that slice of cake that you saved for later gone.

Feysand always gave them a choice, so when the time came: Nyx decided going to illyria, Acmon stayed with his parents to know better how to be a good High Lord (not that the others wouldn't) and Nemesis... I really can't think about it, for me she's still 6y.o.

Feyre and Rhys freacked out about it and their children knew, but as Nyx was the first to go there, he is the one that comforted them.

Also, Nyx is the one who discovers that Rhys was Amarantha's whore. He didn't know what that word means, so he asked to his mother, who explained him everything.

After that Nyx cuddled his father and when it was bedtime he said, almost asleepy, to Rhys "I don't care what you did, dad, I love you... forev-"

Feyre had to take care of her fourth illyrian-baby (but she was almost crying with him).

When Nyx was less than 6, he used to hide from the entirely IC by shape-shifting. Only Nesta, Azriel and Feyre could find them.

Acmon is the best chess player ever. When older, he can even beats Helion.

Nemesis dominated the painting and music, what made she has a special bond with her mother and her Aunt Nesta.

The three inhereted all her mother gifts, yet Nyx has a affinite to shape-shift, Acmon to the darkness and Nemesis to the flames.

Acmon is a daemati.

Cassian is the related that Nyx is the most close to, given their taste to fighting and bad behavious. Mor just behind to break some parented-stupid rules.

Acmon loves spending time with Lucien and Nesta, he learn a lot with them and laugh of sassy jokes.

Nemesis is attached to Azriel, who never gets why, but she loves playing with Uncle Az's shadows. Mor fakes to hate it, since the little girl is Mor's little girl... As Nyx and Acmon are Mor's little boys. This make Az and Cass and the kids tease Mor.

Rhysand loves making clothes to her daugther. He even made her future bride's dress.

Elain LOVES making cookies and chocolate cake to them. Nemesis excitedly help her aunt, Nyx and Acmon trie to.

In the beggining, you would never see Amren with the kids —she claimed to not have patient to kids, but if you were attentive, you could see Amren telling them stories of centuries and centuries ago to them.

They love the waterbubbles of mama and Uncle Varian.

Ok it got too long and it is not even half of my ideas. If you want more just ask me, will be a pleasure to share !!

[epochofbelief]

Breath Control, Chapter Fifteen

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU 

All characters belong to SJ Maas! 

Feysand and Elriel

Author’s Note: Enjoy a bunch of fluff written kinda quick and stay tuned for the announcement for my next fic! Can’t believe only the epilogue is left of this story:) 

Masterlist Link !!! 

FIFTEEN!!

~~~Feyre~~~

“Love the room.”

Having just dropped my suitcase and swim bag on the floor of my new bedroom, I turned to find Rhys leaning in the doorway. 

“Thanks for letting me move in,” I responded, lugging the suitcase from the floor to the bed, ready to start unpacking. 

“Are you ready for training to start again tomorrow morning?” 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that, Mr. Still-Slightly-Out-of-Shape. I’m kicking ass right now, if you hadn’t noticed.” 

Rhys slumped down across my bed, his black hair a rumpled mess. 

“Please. Give me one more week and I’ll definitely be traveling to our next dual meet.” 

I gave up on packing and sat next to him. He placed a warm hand on my back, moving it back and forth across my t-shirt. I shivered slightly. 

“Coach is going to announce the rest of the team going to the Conference Championships by the end of Christmas break.” As hard as I tried to keep my tone even, I knew my voice shook as I said what I’d been thinking about for the past month. 

His hand stilled on my back. 

“You’re not worried that you won’t make it? You just got back on the travel team, Feyre. That basically means you’re going.” 

“Yeah, but we don’t know that for sure. I sucked at Conference last year, remember? And I’ve sucked ever since.” I stood up and grabbed an armful of rumpled clothes out of my suitcase. Keeping my eyes on the floor, I padded over to my dresser and shoved the clothes in. I remained there for a moment, staring at the top of the dresser.

“I’m pretty sure those were dirty,” Rhys’s voice came from right behind my back, making me jump and spin around to face him. 

“Ohmygosh you scared the shit out of me,” I breathed, eyes still on the floor between us. 

“Feyre. Look at me.” 

I bit my lip and raised my eyes to his. 

“You’re going to make that team. And if you don’t, it doesn’t change who you are. I’ll love you just the same, if that helps.” 

In some ways it frustrated me that him saying those words was nearly enough to make me feel better. I hated that I was worried about this, that I would be so massively crushed if I didn’t make a stupid sports team. But in most others, I was overjoyed to hear it. My swimming, be it good or bad, didn’t define me as a person. As long as I was giving it my all, day in and day out, the rest was out of my hands. And I cared about swimming, and wanted to be good, even if I’d lost sight of that drive for a while. 

I really wanted to make that team. 

“Besides,” Rhys continued, his hands coming to rest on my hips. “I should be the one begging you to accept me whether I make the team or not. My injury has really pushed me to the bottom of the barrel.” 

I threw my arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Thank you. And you know you’re going to make the team. Injury or not, you’re too damn fast for Coach to risk not taking you.” 

He buried his face in my hair. “True.”

I pulled back and smacked his arm. “Watch out, I think your head just swelled to twice its normal size, you humble man.” 

He raised his hands and backed away a few steps. “I speak the truth, and nothing but.” 

I smiled. 

“And that applies to everything I just said about you, Feyre. You deserve to go. You’ve improved so much over the past few months. Especially when I was out of the picture.”

I frowned. 

 “In fact, maybe I should just go…” He continued to back away, aiming for my bedroom door now. 

“Shut up. Get your stuck-up ass back over here!”

“No, no! This is what’s best for you, Feyre darling. I’ll just bid you adieu, and maybe we can talk after Conference. I think that’s the best plan.” He stepped into the hallway and out of view. 

Arms crossed, I stormed into the hallway. I knew he was joking but I could feel my blood boiling. I turned right, aiming for the stairs I was sure he’d be walking up at that moment, and ran straight into a wall of muscle.

I stumbled backwards, but Rhys seized my wrists before I could get very far.

“You know I’m kidding, right?” He kept his grip on my wrists firm.

“I know, but that doesn’t make you any less annoying!” I gazed up at him, breathing heavily, glaring. Keeping my wrists in his grip, he leaned down and brushed a featherlight kiss to my lips. 

“Do I annoy you when I do this?” He pushed me against the wall, both my wrists now pinned above my head by one of his hands. The other he placed on my waist as his lips met mine briefly, oh so briefly. “Because I can stop, if you want me to.”

“Don’t stop,” I whispered, his lips barely a millimeter from mine.

He kissed me again, his free hand roaming up and down my side. “But I thought I bothered you, Feyre darling,” he purred, his breath hot against my neck as he trailed a line of kisses down my shoulder, pulling the collar of my t-shirt back as he did so. 

I managed to shake my head. “No.” 

“Good,” he said brightly, letting me go.

He pushed off the wall and strode briskly into my bedroom.

“What the hell?” I shouted.

“Love you,” he called. “Now come unpack!”

“I take it all back! You win the prize for most annoying boyfriend-slash-roommate ever.”

“Then why are you following me into your bedroom?”

“Dammit,” I muttered, closing the door behind me. 

-----

~~~Elain~~~

Ten minutes into the movie, Azriel and I were wrapped up together inside an enormous quilt and several fluffy blankets. A bowl of popcorn mixed with M&M’s rested between us. My head was on his shoulders, his hand on my thigh. It had been a few weeks since my concussion and this was the first movie I had been allowed to watch since. I hadn’t been able to use my phone or look at any screens per the doctor’s instructions. I was lucky I’d been cleared to focus on things close to my face just in time for school to start tomorrow. And thus, with my “staring at things” privileges returned to me, I planned on staying in that comfy spot on the couch until the end credits rolled when…

“I have to pee.”

I slowly turned my head to look at him. “You did not just say that.”

“I’m sorry, I do!” He started shifting under the quilt but I just nestled closer to him. 

“Nooooo. Why didn’t you go before?”

“What am I, five? I didn’t have to go then!”

“If you weren’t before, after saying that you’re definitely five now.” 

“Just stop the movie so I can go!” Azriel glared at me stubbornly. 

“You have chocolate on your face,” I said, reaching up to rub my thumb against his chin. “Such an adorable five year old.”

“Where’d we land on that movie?” He asked, batting my hand away, but not until I’d removed all the chocolate.

“You should have gone before. Go now but I’m not pausing it! It’s your fault for never having seen Jurassic Park before.” 

“My mother hated anything that had to do with dinosaurs, okay? I never got around to it! Please pause it. Please?” 

“What will you give me?” I said from the corner of my mouth, my eyes locked on the TV even though I had long since shifted my attention away from the screen and toward my immature boyfriend instead. 

“I’ll make it worth your while. Trust me. But please pause the movie--and rewind it a couple minutes. I've missed everything.” 

I made a large show of sighing and reaching for the remote that lay a few feet to my right on the couch. “Fine. Go on, then.” 

He was up and out of the room in a flash. He must really have had to pee. 

Not two minutes later, he was back. 

“DId you wash your hands?” I goaded from the couch.

“Oh my God, Elain, yes I did! Drop the five year old thing.” 

“Okay, okay, it’s dropped.” 

He sat back down, covering himself with the quilt. 

I giggled. He poked me in the side. 

“Okay really. I’m done. Can I press play now, dear?”

“Yes!” 

But after only five more minutes of watching, Azriel, his arm around my lower back, started rubbing small circles on the outside of my thigh. I kept my gaze locked on the screen. After I didn’t respond, he grazed his nose up the side of my neck, kissing the small patch of skin behind my ear. 

“Azriel.”

“Hmmm?” He pressed another kiss just below my ear, then another and another, trailing farther down my neck. 

“You’ve gone twenty-one years without seeing Jurassic Park. Think you could wait another night?”

“I’d hazard a guess and say I could survive another several nights with you and without the movie.” He murmured, now making his way down the skin of my chest that my v-neck left exposed. 

“Alright then.” I shut the TV off and moved the bowl of popcorn to the other side of the couch. 

Azriel pounced. 

He laid me back on the couch and hovered above me. He paused an inch from my lips. “You’re sure? Not five minutes ago you were yelling at me for making you pause the movie for two minutes. . .”

His hands started tugging down my leggings. 

“You must be mistaken,” I breathed, reaching for the hem of his shirt. 

His hand pushed mine away. “I’m pretty sure you’d rather watch that movie right now than do anything else. Or have anything else. . . done to you.” He cocked an eyebrow. 

I pulled him down on top of me.  “Shut up about the movie already,” I said, and kissed him. 

His tongue swept in as his hands made short work of my underwear. I now wore only my pajama t-shirt as his hands drifted toward the exact spot I wanted him to focus on. Our kisses became frantic, heated, before he lowered his head over me and made me forget entirely about the movie.

------------

TAGS

@queen-of-glass​ @fabfire​ @sleeping-and-books​ @aknymph​ 

[ccrtana]

feysand one shot

prompt: “I can’t stay away from you”

A/N: I really wanted to write something today and this fluffy piece is what came out. I hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading xx :)

Rhys can’t stop pacing, he is too awake. Ever since he was a young boy, he was never good at doing what he was told. His mom constantly reminds him of that with stories from his childhood, countless times when he was told he couldn’t do something, and that only made him want to do whatever it was more.

“You can’t do it Rhysand, stop being a baby”, Mor had warned him earlier in the night, “If I hear you anywhere near her room, I will hurt you. Stay away.’’ Her face had been serious enough to keep him away for a few hours. But the clock in his room has been mocking him, minutes passing slower than they should be. The next day can’t come soon enough.

Finally, when the clock marks two in the morning, Rhys decides he has had it. He is a big guy, why is he afraid of threats from his cousin? He can take Morrigan, has done it many times in fact. Sure, it was when they were kids, before she found a passion in boxing, but he has determination on his side. There are countless stories out there about people winning fights out of sheer will. Besides, she is probably asleep already, and would be none the wiser from his little escape.

As carefully as he can master, the man opens the door from his room. The lights in the corridor from the small inn his friends and family are staying at are on, but he can’t hear any sounds coming from the outside. Once he is convinced Mor isn’t about to jump out on him and tie him up to his bed, Rhys makes his way quietly through the halls, searching for a specific room. 

He hasn’t been to Feyre’s room himself yet, but earlier he had heard her sister, Elain, commenting on the flower arrangement just outside her door. Easy task, all he has to do is find a room on their floor, probably as far from his own as possible, with yellow hibiscus near the door. 

Apparently, the gods approved of his plan, because none of the other rooms had flowers anywhere near them but one. Great, because Rhys wasn’t really sure he knew what a hibiscus looks like, anyway. With one last look around to make sure no one was awake and out of their rooms and a prayer that Feyre was alone, he knocked on the door. 

Just as he is about to bolt back to his own room, thinking he heard footsteps noises from further down the hall, the door opens and he is met with blue eyes, coated with sleep. “I’m so sorry darling, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he tells her apologetically. Bold of him to assume that just because he was having trouble to fall asleep she would be feeling the same. 

“What are you doing here? I think everyone made it pretty clear we aren’t supposed to see each other,” her voice is rough from sleep, but he can note the playfulness in her tone, “Come in before Mor sees you out there. I need you in one piece for tomorrow.” She opens the door to her room further, softly tugging on his arm. 

He walks in and sits at the edge of the unmade bed. It’s still warm from her body and, just like that, Rhys is ready to lay down and sleep, all his restlessness forgotten. “Well, I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d come see you. Having you near has always made me sleep better anyway.”

A small smile graces her features and Rhys’ heart is so full he doesn’t think he can handle it. “It’s just for one night, love”, Feyre says but she sits next to him, her arm brushing his own. If she thinks this is going to convince him to leave… “Tradition right? The groom can’t see the bride the night before the wedding.”

“Who even came up with this anyway? It’s stupid. I’m not seeing you in your dress or anything. Is it so wrong to want to spend as much time as possible next to the love of my life?” Feyre notices the pout on his lips and a chuckle escapes her. 

“Mor will kill you if she finds out you’re here. She cares a lot about this, it’s kind of weird actually.”

“I swear I tried, Feyre Darling, but I can’t stay away from you.” He reaches for her hands, that are intertwined in her lap, and gives each of them a small kiss. “I promise I’ll get out of here early in the morning, no one has to know but us.”

Feyre reaches for his face, placing her hand gently on his cheek. And just like it happened the first time she touched him, and all the times since, every cell in Rhys’ body comes alive, like they are responding to her call. “What is one more night in the rest of our lives right?”

He beams and lays down, pulling the covers over them, as soon as Feyre joins him, tucking her closely. Slowly, his breathing starts to even out, sleep taking over his body. “I’m really glad I found you, Rhys. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you never lack love and peace in your life. I want to make you as happy as you make me, everyday.” Feyre’s quiet voice and soft words settle in his heart, and he smiles at her.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you. You’re the best thing that has happened to me. I love you and I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow.” He kisses her lips gently. Holding each other, they fall asleep, dreaming of the things to come in the life they are building together, full of happiness, love and union.

[daylilysirius]

Arms Unfolding: Year Three

A/N: part three! this part is a little shorter but i have a feeling part four will more than make up for that. also, thinking about doing some requested pieces/drabbles to get me back into the swing of things so drop me a message if you have any requests for any harry potter or the punisher characters :-)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin! Reader

Warnings: swearing, angsty draco x reader rise !

Word count: 1661

- MASTERLIST IN BIO -

Draco was seeing red.

It was bad enough that you were still being off with him because of his behavior towards Hermione (he had promised you that he would do better but it transpired that his idea of bettering himself was to just make sure you weren’t around when he was being a bigot), and now here you were fawning all over Harry.

So, he rode a bloody Hippogriff, who cares?

He couldn’t explain the ugly feeling of jealously that slowly crept up on him when he watched the two of you laughing together. He didn’t feel this way about any of his other friends when they were around other people, mainly because none of them would fawn over a person Draco didn’t like in plain sight, but he still couldn’t figure out why exactly it bothered him so much.

Maybe it was just because it was Harry? Yeah. That had to be it.

He desperately tried to ignore the other pang of anger that hit when you turned to smile at Dean and sneered at Pansy when she gave him a goading look, seemingly the only one to catch onto his envy.

“Your friend seems to be having fun, eh Draco?” She smirked.

Blaise snorted, the two of them sharing a look like they knew something Draco didn’t.

“Piss off, Parkinson.”

As he turned to walk away he was greeted with the sight of you pulling Harry in for a hug, and the little resolve he had left snapped. He marched right over to Buckbeak, ignoring Hagrid’s warnings, and wound up in the hospital wing once again.

Technically speaking though, his plan hadn’t been a complete failure. Yes, it was embarrassing. Yes, he couldn’t play quidditch for a few weeks. But he finally had your attention. You barely left his side the entire time he was in hospital. You would sit with him all day, bringing food and gossip to try and life his spirits, and if he was really lucky you would play with his hair to soothe him when the pain was particularly bad. The only thing that could part the two of you was when Professor Snape came looking for you with a deep scowl set in his face, insisting that “Mr. Malfoy will still be here when you get back from your lessons.”

Even after he was released from Madam Pompfrey’s care you will still inseparable. Anywhere he was you could be seen not far behind, carrying his books that were particularly heavy or guarding his bandaged arm from overly excited first years as they sprinted down the halls.

“Hey, Draco?” You began one afternoon as you were walking him to his transfiguration class.

“Mhmm?” He hummed.

“Do you fancy going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? It’s doing you no good being cooped up in the castle all the time.”

His heart started beating wildly in his chest. You had never asked him to go anywhere with you alone before, it had always either been forced upon you or pure coincidence. He tried not to overthink what you might have meant by it and cursed the way his mind went into overdrive in reaction to the question.

“Uh, yeah. That would be cool.” He stammered.

“Great!” you grinned, “It’s a date! I mean, not a date, a- a… oh you know what I mean.”

Draco smiled kindly back at you, “Yeah.”

You came to a halt outside McGonagall’s classroom and gently passed him his books back.

“Cool. See you later, Draco.”

“Yeah. Later.” he continued to watch you as you walked away.

The week had dragged on ridiculously slow in Draco’s opinion, but as soon as the day came he started willing time to come to a halt.

As he sat with you outside Honeydukes, chatting and laughing without a care in the world, he felt at peace for the first time in as long as he could remember. He didn’t think he would ever enjoy someone’s company so much.

“I just don’t understand how we didn’t meet before school. I mean, the Sacred 28 have parties all the time.”

“My parent’s never go to those.” You said before taking a bite of your pumpkin pasty, “they think they’re stupid.”

“Shame. They deprived you of the joy of my company.” He grinned teasingly as you scoffed and shook your head.

“My grandparents probably would’ve married me off to you by now if they had been given that chance.”

Draco’s heart began racing again. How did you manage to get such a rise out of him so easily?

He chuckled, looking away to hid his blushing cheeks, “That wouldn’t have been so bad, would it?”

You shrugged. He reveled in the fact that your face seemed to be heating up as well.

“I don’t trust myself to not throttle you as soon as you start being annoying.”

He snorted, “Fair point.”

You sat in a pleasant silence as you both finished eating. It was beginning to drop dark and Draco knew you would have to go back soon. He felt a little deflated as you began to pack your things up, you both knew you couldn’t act this cozy once you were back at the castle, neither of your social circles would like it.

“Thanks for coming with me.” You smiled warmly at him as you started on the path back to Hogwarts.

“Anytime.”

You slipped slightly on the icy path but Draco was quick to catch hold of you.

“Thanks.” You stuttered, a little flustered from embarrassment. Draco just smiled at you before cautiously peering downwards, before you could question it he linked his hand with yours. You looked at him skeptically as he began walking again.

“Safer this way.” He explained, a shy grin on his face.

You raised your eyebrows, “So if I go down, you’re coming with me.”

“Nah, you know I’ll always catch you.”

Draco’s rage was back and bigger than ever. Even greater than it had been during your Care of Magical Creatures class. It was almost like déjà vu as he watched you and Harry together, but after spending the day in Hogsmeade with you his anger burned tenfold. He should be the one spending time with you, making you laugh, not Potter.

He seethed quietly as he watched the two of you in the corridor. He had been waiting for you to finish talking to him for ten minutes now. What could you two possible have to talk about that would take this long? Or that made you smile in that way? The same way your lips perked up when he would offer to help you with your studies or give you an unexpected compliment.

The fact that he could never hate you for being so friendly with Harry angered him even further. If what he felt towards you wasn’t anger then what was it? Jealousy? Irritation? … or something else?

The fact that you had him so wrapped around your finger wound him up even further and by the time you had walked over to him he was ready to explode. He had never been good at expressing his emotions and the sudden realization that maybe, just maybe, he felt something more for you had thrown him off completely, and you being completely oblivious to it was all the more infuriating.

“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting. Harry needed some books for herbology.” You said.

Draco went rigid at the mention of his name, the final nail in the coffin in his opinion, and in turn your smile dropped.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, as he turned to start walking towards your common room “I’m fine.”

You stayed put for a few seconds, shocked by his sudden coldness. You had seen it before of course, but never directed at you.

“Hey, Draco, what’s wrong?” You snapped back into reality and quickly caught up with him. When he didn’t respond you put a hand on his arm but he flinched away, stunning you once again. He finally took a breath and turned to you, a harshness to his eyes that you didn’t recognise.

“Why do you have to be like this?” He snapped.

“Like what?”

He sighed, looking at you as if you were completely stupid, “Fine, Y/N. If you want to be a blood traitor, then so be it, I won’t stop you.”

You stepped back a few paces, reeling as if you had been physically slapped.

“Excuse me?” You asked in disbelief.

He said nothing.

“Is that what you think of me? That I’m a traitor to what? Your kind?”

Draco shrugged, still not dignifying you with a response.

“Because of the people I’m friends with? Because I don’t discriminate?” You were shaking with anger now. Who the hell did he think he was?

Your reaction made Draco stand a little straighter, his features hardening, “Purebloods will always be superior, the sooner you realise that the better. Until then you’re betraying the rest of us by being so touchy-feely with people like that.”

Your fists clenched at your sides as you tried your best to keep yourself in check, there was no way you were going to cry in front of him.

“You know what, the past three years I’ve spent so much of my time defending you. Telling everyone that you were more than the front you put up, but you know what? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was just wasting my time.”

Draco felt a knot in his throat but he wasn’t going to back down now, “Maybe you were.”

You laughed humorlessly, shaking your head.

“Well, no more then. Let them say whatever they want. You can go fuck yourself, Malfoy.”

You stormed away before he could see the heartbreak etched unmistakably on your face. You heard Draco give an angry, pained groan when he thought you were out of earshot but you didn’t turn back to check on him. Not anymore. You were done.

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