#they’ll still treat you with mor

[sacrificialroses]

my qoc bf n I bonding over how unpleasant ytppl are like <3 but also I think about this all the time

[grace-mint]

A Fate Worse Than Death- Part 3

Finale time!! I'm still working on improving my writing, so thank you to everyone who read! TW: Angst, negative self-talk, mentions of SA and torture. Let me know if I forgot anything.

My life had lost all of its meaning. I didn’t want to care anymore. I couldn’t find it in me to care anymore. Rhys was concerned, I knew. I also knew that I was slowly killing him, the fact that I hardly ate, hardly spoke, and hardly slept. 

My back had healed in time, it had been about a month and a half since that day, and yet the feeling of hands on my body, the male taking advantage of me, and the gaping hole in my chest from the loss of my wings all felt so prominent and recent. 

Now, in place of my once glorious wings, giant, ugly scars lived on my back. They didn’t allow me to fly, they didn’t offer intimate moments with my mate, and they didn’t offer me any comfort. These jagged, hideous things, they were a reflection of my soul. Who I was now. I didn’t try anymore. And just like I didn’t want to care, I didn’t want to try. 

My childhood, which was ripped from my young grasp, wasn’t enough? The Gods had to punish me even more? I felt so completely numb, and I was ashamed of this. I was so ashamed when Mor had to help me bathe when I had gotten back, too weak to even wash myself. Or when Azriel had to help me learn how to walk again, his scarred hand sitting softly on my back was a parallel to what lingered under my shirts. I’m sure I looked ridiculous, like a fawn learning how to use her legs for the first time. 

And then there was Rhysand, my mate. The person who I let down. I knew he assumed that I was stripped of my dignity. I couldn’t face him. I never let him see me anymore, panic raging through my body when I saw him, my father’s words echoing in my head. ‘They’ll all see you let yourself get taken by another man.’ He was right; I didn’t fight hard enough. In the end, I was still just as weak as I was as a child, letting my brothers and father treat me like nothing more than dirt. 

But, by the cauldron I was bored. I lay in bed, mulling over all of these thoughts that constantly kept me company. I searched my mind and soul to find even a modicum of emotion, a single ray of hope, but I came back empty. So, I just lay there, wallowing. 

3 days later, Cassian burst into my room. His face was one of empathy, yet he was determined. This was the General of the Night Court, still a much softer one, but he was in that mind set. He meant business.

“Get up,” he said, “get up out of that bed. You have hardly eaten, I know you don’t sleep well, and we are all worried.”

I rolled over onto my side, my back to him. “You want me to get up, and I want you to get out.” I spit back.

“No.” He plopped himself on the bed, next to my legs. “We don’t have to talk, but I’m not leaving. Cauldron y/n, we don't know what to do anymore.”

I hummed, not deigning to answer. I knew he would stay there, and again, that feeling, that thing in my chest struggled to get out. I smothered it. 

I don’t know how long he sat there, or how long I lay there. I wish he would say something, anything to silence the racing thoughts in my mind. In conversation, I wanted silence, yet in silence, I wanted conversation. I was so pathetic. 

“He has run himself rampant with worry, you know.” I didn’t want to hear about Rhysand right now, but I wouldn’t stop him. “He spent time in the camps, strictly and personally enforcing the wing laws, seeing to it the males treat the females like actual people, not objects.” Anger entered his voice while talking about the barbaric males in those camps. 

“Y/n, he’s so broken without you. My brother has been the strongest male I’ve ever known. He went through hell with Amarantha, his father, and even now, the prejudice he faces from the other courts, it weighs on him. But, when you two were together, no matter what, I have never seen him more joyful. I had never seen him so stress-free, not caring what others had to say.” He brought his hand up to my head, gently stroking my hair. My heart ached, Cassian, the brother I never had, calmed me. Not as much as Rhys could, obviously, but he calmed me just the same. My thoughts slowed down, becoming less and less rapid. “Just see him, once. He needs to see you, and you need to see him. You two have been through so much together, he would never abandon you. You know that right?” 

I didn’t answer, staying silent. At one point of my life, I would have answered this question without a single doubt in my mind, but now I couldn’t. That feeling in my chest tugged again, telling me I was being an idiot. My mate would never leave me, but everyone leaves eventually. 

Cassian sighed, finally standing up and placing a kiss to my head. “Just think about what I said, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“I will.” The first words I had spoken since I’d tried to kick him out. I still couldn’t see him, but I heard him pause. I understood why, I had been so adamant about Rhysand not seeing me. I just gave him the worst possible thing. I gave him hope. 

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

Rhysand had spent this past month in misery. He hadn’t seen her since a few days after she woke up. He always kept his side of the bond open, hoping she would feel he was there, no matter what. 

“She said she’d think about seeing you.” A voice broke through his thoughts. He was sitting in his office, nursing a glass of bourbon. 

Hope, the damned thing, sparked in his chest. “You think she will actually go through with it?” Rhysand asked Cassian, not wanting to show his disbelief that y/n would actually go through with it.

“She might.” Rhysand’s face fell at his words. He was going to die without his mate another day more. The numbness from the bond made his chest ache constantly. His heart felt as though it was being stabbed over and over. 

“What do I do?” Sorrow dripped from Rhysand’s words. 

“Go to her. You two can’t keep avoiding each other, brother. It is killing you both.”

He knew Cassian was right, as much as he hated to admit it, instead he just nodded my head in dismissal, mulling over his words. 

Rhysand was going to get his mate back. 

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

I slept fitfully. Nightmares plagued the darkness, hands, whips, screaming. It was all the same, every night. I woke up, not even phased anymore, yet still shaken. It was normal now, this is what I had been degraded down to. On nights like these, which had been every one, I missed Rhys the most. 

A knock on my door woke me from my pity party and in walked Madja, the sweetest woman to grace this court. 

She was so grandmotherly and gentle. She truly cared about her patients, treating them more like her own children than simply clients.

“How’s the back?” As kind as she was, she was also a straight to the point, no-nonsense type of grandmotherly. 

“Fine.” My usual answer. I wouldn’t burden her with how sometimes it felt like I could feel the steel of the blade ripping into my skin, the crack of the whip against my wings.

She simply nodded, understanding in her eyes. “Lay on your stomach, I want to get a look at it, make sure it is healing well enough.”

I do as she says. I had been wearing Rhys’ clothes, the sole comfort of him I offered myself. They were large enough to not put too much pressure on my healed, but tender back. It also allowed easy access for Madja’s appointments. She unbuttoned the back of the shirt, pulling it away. 

“Child, you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. You punish yourself, thinking you failed yourself. You are plain wrong.” Her voice was stern but not unkind. “You have healed physically, you are almost out of remission, but the mental has still yet to be touched upon. Why has your mate not been here? Does he not care?” Madja loved her High Lord like he was her own son, but that would not excuse these actions if they were true.

“No. I don’t want to see him.” My words were flat and left room for no argument.

She sighed, “Dear child, I know what happened, all of it. While others may not, you know that you are still here, despite everything. You cannot let those who hurt you win that war that rages in your head. You are our High Lady, or did you forget. You have fought for so much, do not let these demons be the ones who take you down.” 

“Thank you, Madja. Your words mean more than you know.” And I meant it. 

She begins to button up the shirt for me, hardly getting more than a few buttons as the door slammed open. 

And there stood my mate, eyes wild and raging.

Panic flared in my chest, he would hate me. He would see my back and hate me and he wouldn’t want me anymore. 

But as he just stood there, his gaze on my ruined back, I saw his gaze darken with an emotion that wasn’t disgust. He looked murderous. 

“I’m so sorry, I should have knocked.” The words come out of Rhysand’s mouth, dripping with anger and melancholy. 

“Actually, High Lord, if you wouldn’t mind helping her finish up, I fear I am running late for my next appointment.” Madja said, packing her stuff up. She rushed out of the room before either of us could say anything.

Rhys and just stayed there, staring at each other. He finally moved, “Can I help you button these? Is that okay?”

I nodded, relinquishing eye contact and staring out the window instead. He carefully began to button the shirt up, with the gentlest touch I could imagine. He made sure to not touch a single part of my skin, but I could feel his unwavering gaze on my back. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured under his breath, and I felt myself stiffen at his words, not the finger running gently down the scars lingering where my wings should be. 

“You’re delusional,” I hear myself say, my breath quickening at his presence. It wasn’t fear or panic I felt anymore, but longing. Cauldron, I’ve missed him. 

Rhys stood sharply, helping me up and turning me to face him. He put his fingers under my chin firmly pulling it up to meet his gaze.

“Why would you say that about something that’s a part of you. You are the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever had the blessing to set my eyes upon, and these scars do not take away from that. I will make it my life’s mission to let you never forget that.”

I felt a shudder go through my body at his words. Emotions I had kept under lock and key flooded through me. 

“You don’t know what you are talking about, I am ugly. I am disgusting. I am a failure. I don’t deserve someone like you, who still wants me after what I allowed them to do.” And with those words, the dam broke. The emotions escaped the carefully crafted safe, and I cried for the first time since I saw myself in that mirror, facing who I was now. 

“Oh y/n darling,” Rhys placed his forehead to mine, “you are not a failure. You are the most stunning thing I have ever laid eyes on. Nothing can possibly compare to your beauty, not the brightest star on Starfall, nor the most awing beaches of the Summer Court. And you are not a failure. What could ever possess you to believe that.” 

“Rhys, I failed you. I let them touch me, use me. And I didn’t stop it. I ruined what we had.” 

Rhys stilled, his suspicions confirmed. “Your father is going to die an even more painful death than planned.” “He’s still alive?” Fear enters my words. I can hear the shake in my voice.

My mate’s eyes filled with even more anger. “Not for long. He hasn’t been sitting uninjured though, believe me. I would gladly take care of it today, unless you’d like the honor.” He was still in front of me, staring at me. 

I shake my head, “I never want to see him or my brothers again.” He nodded in understanding. 

“It is done then.” He sighed, and took a few steps back, dropping to his knees in front of me. “My mate, my beautiful, strong mate. You are not a failure, you did not fail me. It could never be possible.” 

He gently held my hands, placing a kiss to the back of them. “Those scars you have gained are proof of your strength. Proof that you survived. And I will never, ever allow another male to touch you without your permission.” His words had a dangerous edge to them, one that I knew was speaking nothing but the truth.

“And my love, I am the one who failed you. I wasn’t there to stop them; I let you go on that mission. I am not worthy of your forgiveness.” 

My heart leapt at his words, he thought he was the one who let me down. I tugged my hands from his grasp and placed them on either side of his face, sliding off the bed until I was knee to knee with him. Tears began pouring from my eyes. “Rhysand, you are good. You have been nothing less than perfect to me all these years.” His eyes filled with emotions of his own, and I felt his sorrow on the other end of the bond. The Bond. My mate, I could feel him again. I tugged on it, and felt Rhysand inhale. 

“Y/N, I can feel you again.” His voice cracked, and I felt myself lunging into his arms. Rhysand’s arms, my mate’s arms tugging me impossibly closer. 

“I’m so so sorry, Rhys. I missed you so much; I thought you’d hate me.” 

“How could I ever hate you, darling.” His hand ran down the back of my head in comforting strokes. “I love you so much, I am still healing, and it will take time. But the thing I had felt like I was missing for so long was you.” 

“You could throw me out and take another 6 years, and I would stand at that door waiting for you.” I knew he was telling the truth, a bit exaggerated, but I knew he would be there. I leaned back, pulling my head from his chest. We just gazed at each other for a while, before I slowly leaned up, placing a gentle kiss to his mouth. His arms tightened around me, as if afraid I might be pulled away. 

“I was afraid I would never be able to taste your lips again, feel your embrace, or hear the soft lull of your voice.” My heart broke at his voice, the vulnerability in it. 

“Never again, we will never be separated again.” I placed my head on his shoulder leaning into him. 

“Never again,” He echoed. 

____________________

For the next week, Rhysand was attached to me at the hip, not to say I didn't enjoy it. I missed his presence more than anything. I still couldn’t deal with him sleeping in the bed with me, waking up feeling like I was back in that basement, so he slept in the chair. I felt bad, knowing it couldn’t be comfortable, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d just say he was happy to sleep in the same room as me. 

The day after everything happened between him and I, he walked into the room, hands behind his back. When I’d asked what was wrong, he had simply said he took care of an errand. I knew that meant my father and brothers were no longer living, so I simply just took him into the washroom, helping him wash the blood from his hands. 

Tonight was the first family dinner I would be attending in nearly two months. Rhysand had helped me with my hair, bought me a new beautiful dress to wear, and now stood by my side, holding my hand as we stood on the roof of the townhouse. 

“We don’t have to go, say the word and we can go back down stairs.” His words were soft and gentle. The last time we flew together, I was flying on my own. He would have to carry me now.

I offer a small smile, “I miss my family, Rhys. I have to do this sometime, so why not now.”

With strong arms, he picks me up, hooking one arm under my knees and the other under my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around his neck, with a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be ok.”

He merely nods, stretching out his powerful wings, and I felt a pang go through my chest at the sight. His eyes snap to mine, feeling what I was feeling through the bond. “Darling?”

“Let’s go.” I say, my chin up and determined. I was ready to do this. He shot off the roof with a powerful flap of his wings. I felt the familiar, comforting feeling of my stomach dropping at the movement. My arms tightened around his neck, and I forced myself to look out over our city. It would take time, but I would force myself to be okay with this.

I brought my head up to see my mate staring at me. “You’re the most gorgeous being I’ve ever sat my eyes upon.” I felt my cheeks flush at his words.

“You and your flattery.” I grin at him, looking out over Velaris again. “Our city is gorgeous, Rhys.” 

“That it is,” His words were soft, but his gaze never left my face. “The most gorgeous.”

[koriandrprincessoftamaran]

I get it

E/riel’s have been disappointed & shook since the BC.

I understand there are aggressive shippers out there on all sides with ✨ ZERO ✨ emotional intelligence & can’t help themselves from being actual villains.

All that to say, the biggest difference between Elriel v. Gwynriel/Elucien is we do actually use canon with complete context & build upon that. Canon from multiple series most times. We’ve kept up with the story.. We actually understand the narrative THE AUTHOR is wanting to convey. It’s both.. iykyk

If Elriel’s actually follow cannon you’ll end up with chosen love (if Elain even gives him a chance after that BC), their powers don’t sing or dance for the other, Elain has a bond trailing her forever, & Az leaves Elain for his mate when his bond snaps (bc it’s canon he wants a mate bond. He straight up says he’s envious of RHYS & CASSIAN. Az, quite literally, waited 500 years for a MATING BOND to snap with Mor.).

It’s clear y’all don’t understand that Elain’s treatment of Lucien is NOT unique to Lucien as a character. She’d be treating Az the same way if that bond snapped in Hybern, the same way y’all don’t understand that Azriel’s visceral longing for a mate is NOT unique to Elain as a character.. the same way y’all don’t realize that if Lucien never said anything, y’all wouldn’t have your favorite scene of them sitting in the garden.

I’ve seen a few post lately saying we’ve read too many fanfics, have confused cannon, & that we’re envious of Elriel… that’s what’s prompted this rant lol… This take is rich coming from the ship that had fics with Azriel’s shadows playing/DANCING for Elain, only for that dream to be drowned in a muddy grave in chapter 60 & in the BC of ACOSF.. yet y’all still are out here trying to explain that away or try to spin it as a positive… An Elriel shipper had an artist commission them as Eric & Ariel. At first I thought that commission was supposed to be an uno reverse of irony & apparently it’s not, it was actually for Elriel month & intended to only have one level of irony… Who’s really envious & confusing canon here?

Never seen an Elucien post saying “Darn, I wish Lucien’s power didn’t come out when he was trying to get to Elain, I wish his power was absent around her like Az’s shadows. Shoot, I really wish Lucien didn’t give Elain incredibly thoughtful gifts for solstice & ask Fayre multiple questions about Elain so he could know her as a person. Really wish he didn’t fight his way through a battle field just to see Elain. Actually, I just wish Lucien didn’t think of Elain’s well being at all, he should’ve NEVER thought about her still not eating, how thin she was, & how much that look in her eyes worried him.”

Never seen a Gwynriel post saying “Aw man, I wish Azriel didn’t notice how Gwyn’s freckles crinkle on her nose when she smirks & I wish he didn’t bait her into a challenge like he did with the obstacle course. I really freaking hate that his shadows danced with Gwyn after we got direct confirmation they don’t do that for Elain. Darn, really wish Az thought of his hands tainting Gwyn when we got his PoV.”

It’s absolutely hilarious that they’ll try it when I have YET so see an Elucien proof of ship post that isn’t straight from the books (with the complete context of the quote) & have it not support the overarching narrative THE AUTHOR is wanting to convey regarding a fated mate.. I just.. y’all, it’s okay to be wrong.

If I need to spell it out for you, the overarching theme is ✨ like calls to like ✨ & the mating bond transcends all… I’d hope we all know this as we’ve had to read that saying 832 times & have 832 examples of mates CHOOSING to accept the bond after getting to know them & healing.

We speak with 100% conviction bc it’s OBVIOUS! Elucien’s have been nothing but validated by SJM each time she released a book building more tension for Elucien to explore.. ACOSF was 100% validation for her Elucien’s.. I see Elriel theories & posts all the time bc I follow the Azriel tags. I don’t engage unless the Elriel tag is missing bc I won’t hop on a post that’s obviously for their discussion & rants. Tho, when I do go snoop, I have never seen a Elriel theory or take that can’t be disproven BY THE BOOKS aka THE AUTHOR..

I get it

We’ve all waiting YEARS for SJM to finish a series & we want to see our characters HEA.

I have ✨ ZERO ✨ problem with yall shipping Elriel, it’s just the fact y’all still scream that “your book” is next.. Sweetheart, there’s no book… & it’s that y’all copy & paste Elucien/Gwynriel characteristics & dynamics onto your ship. Like, yall do realize the depth of irony you put yourselves in every.. single.. time?

Just enjoy your side of the fandom & understand that the ship YOU WANT can ONLY be achieved through fanfics or realize that your ship is actually just a pick’N’choose of Elucien & Gwynriel.

I’m sorry that I’m not sorry for considering y’all a joke at this point in the maasverse. Every Elriel take or “proof” I see ends with me laughing my ass off, bc it’s comedic gold the amount of hoops y’all need to jump through. Realistically, only thing Elucien’s & Gwynriel’s need to do is just sit back & wait. Because on this day of May 6th, 2024, we should know that something greater than the cauldron chooses mates, Elain & Lucien are STILL CONFIRMED TO BE MATES, Elain has yet to have an on page conversation with Lucien discussing the future of their bond, Azriel’s shadows still ONLY dance for Gwyn or Azriel, & Az’s chest still ONLY sparked for Gwyn…

ALAIS, Elucien’s have been trying to help manage y’all’s expectations since 2016 & now have us Gwynriel’s to back them up bc it’s allllll in the books babes! (We can pull evidence from all of her series that supports SJM’s theme of like calls to like, mating language, & mating behaviors to show actual proof of our ship)

Honestly, it doesn’t matter how much y’all try to “I know you are, but what am I?” us to death, it still won’t change the fact that after the CoN scene & chapter 60 in ACOSF, y’all should’ve just taken that L with grace & dignity..

I know the best thing to do is not engage or add to the flame & that they bait, I just can’t help it. I work in the legal field & arguing a point is in my blood! 💀 I get it, don’t yuck others yums, it’s just so funny that we are still neck deep in discourse with them about mates getting a book together… in a contracted fated mates series..

[aldbooks]

I’ve seen a lot of posts circulating through the Lucien tag about how just because Elain and Lucien have a mating bond, doesn’t mean they’ll end up together. If that’s really what you think, fine that’s your prerogative. Ship what you want to ship no one’s stopping you.

However, the author of each seems to be under the impression that all Eluciens (or even most) only want them together because of the bond. (Really they seem to think anyone who ship anything other than their preferred ship has, at best, only the barest reasons for doing so or, at worst, is a terrible, disgusting person. But that’s a conversation for another time)

Let’s be clear. We don’t think they’re a match because they have a bond. We only think that’s why they’ll be end game (because that’s how SJM writes).

We think they’re a match because what we know of them both so far makes them seem (if I’m honest) far more compatible than either Feysand or Nessian. Their personalities and temperaments are similar, they seem to have similar values. Everything about them both screams of a really good pairing.

Another point I keep seeing is that there’s no emotional connection between them unlike existed with the other couples prior to accepting the bond. No shit. That would require they actually know each other and here is where I put full blame on Elain. No, she doesn’t owe him anything but she can’t complain that he doesn’t know her when she won’t let him know her.

And Lucien does try. No one can say he doesn’t. The man risked his life following Feyre all the way across Prythian, with no magic, helped keep her alive on the way there, just to get a chance to meet Elain. And when he got there, was immediately disregarded by everyone, and treated with contempt. (Yet you don’t see him throwing a tantrum over being kept from her) He visits when he’s invited and tries to speak with her only to back off when she won’t give him the time of day.

We still don’t know why she does this. We won’t until we finally get a look inside her head. But I don’t think it’s for reasons most people seem to think and I do believe that once she actually gives him a fair chance, she’ll like him.

As for why the idea of rejecting the bond was brought up, honestly I think it was to hint at other potentially rejected bonds (a la LoA/Helion or Eris/Mor) but, as I’ve seen so many examples of in fanfic, it could be that we’ll see Elain reject the bond, only to succumb to it anyway once the pressure is gone and she actually gets to know Lucien. It doesn’t automatically spell doom for them. Especially if you’ve read enough fated mate/rejected mate stories.

[jumpingjollyrancher]

Day 16: Third-rate

After a morning’s work, it feels good to get outside and stretch her legs. She’s not certain if the air of Mor Dhona can be called ‘fresh’ with all the ambient aether, but it has to be an improvement to be outside regardless. Minfilia stretches her arms over her head. Something in her back gives a little pop and she sighs. “That’s a sign of far too much time spent bent over a desk.”

She lets her eyes sweep over the Toll. They’ve started laying the stonework for the great building they have planned against the northern rise. Weeks have been spent carving out the stone and crystal for space. Her own fingers itched to pick up a pickaxe again, but she’s had far too much to do. Minfilia sighs and starts walking again. She told Tataru not to let her back in for at least an hour and she means to stick to it.

Dodging around a pair carrying heavy looking crates, Minfilia soaks in the feeling of the outpost. It’s growing, what seems like every day, and it makes the place feel ever move lively. And changed. She’ll always miss Thanalan; she grew up in its familiar climes. But this place could easily become a new home. The world, the era has changed for the better. She’d like to think she and the Scions are as well.

A squawk catches her ear and she turns slightly. By the western gate, someone has reined up their chocobo. The bird looks annoyed by the cause. Its head darts forward and its beak snaps. “Spatch, no!” Someone says and the chocobo’s head is pulled back. The bird hisses and Minfilia spots a man gesturing rudely as he puts distance between him and the bird.

She covers a laugh and crosses the plaza. The irritable chocobo has been moved beside the road and its rider strokes its neck. Minfilia shades her eyes and looks up at him. “Did they deserve that?”

“Everyone should know to stay out of his way by now. Spatch doesn’t take anyone’s attitude.” Xher’a arches an eyebrow. “If he lodges a complaint, I’ll let Spatch have his arm next. He’s the idiot who thought he could ‘check out’ my bird.”

“Any mount of the Warrior of Light has to be worth a second look,” she says teasingly. She looks at the adorably named Spatula and does not offer him a hand. Much like his rider, the chocobo tolerates few people. “He’ll be better known than you at this rate.”

Xher’a snorts and swings his leg over to dismount. He drops to the ground, tail adjusting for balance until he straightens up. “I doubt that, even if he could take a whole legion on his own.” On the ground, he’s nearly a head shorter than her. It puts his ears, fluffy and so tempting, in perfect range.

Like always, Minfilia crosses her arms and treats the famous Warrior of Light like a person. “Oh most assuredly. Was there any trouble?”

“No, not a bit.” Xher’a clicks his tongue and tugs gently on the reins. “There’s still the skeleton crew holding the place. They could be chased out, but the worst they can do is glare at us. They lost nearly everything with Baelsar.”

“I’m sure someone will give them orders soon enough.” Minfilia follows, on Xher’a’s other side to be safe, as they head for the stable. “If they’re smart, they’ll withdraw.”

Xher’a hums. “That depends. There’s plenty they can’t easily uproot and flee with. If they abandon the castrum entirely, they know we’ll loot the place.” He smirks up at her, ears flicking up. He’s mischief incarnate and her lips twitch.

“You’d certainly make use of it,” she says dryly. “Even the exploded bits.”

“Ehhh,” Xher’a waves the hand not holding the reins. “That depends on how exploded. If I have a choice, I’d rather not work with third-rate leftover parts.”

“Nothing but the best for you.” Minfilia smiles back at him now.

His smirk widens into a grin. “Exactly. I’ve earned it after all.”

“Most certainly, Xher’a.” Minfilia looks around again. It really is a rather nice day. “If you don’t have another task, I am going to steal you away.”

When she looks back, he has an eyebrow arched. But it’s the look in his eyes, irritated and sharp, that makes her raise her hands. “Not for work, I swear. I am taking a break and you could use one as well. I smell something delicious and we should try it.”

His eyes, bright and silver, study her. They always give him away despite the youthfulness of his features. They’ve both seen things beyond their age. When they relax and brighten, his face relaxes as well. He shakes his head. “Fine with me. Give me ten minutes. And, you know, Minfilia, you can call me Junior.” He steps into the stable to take care of his chocobo.

It’s a reprieve and one she’s grateful for. She exhales through a chest suddenly tight, reminded of another nickname in another voice. They’ve both chosen and taken names. They’ve given them like gifts to those they trust. He is offering her the future he’s chosen.

When he comes back out, she leads them both to lunch. It’s delicious and the conversation is light. She calls him Junior. He grins and tries out ‘Mini’ until she makes a face. It is a glorious new era for Eorzea, for them all.

She knows they both remember a voice, teasing and fond, calling him Xeha.

[astrababyy]

“I want access to [Velaris],” Keir said. “For me, and for my court.”

“No,” Mor said. The word echoed off the pillars, the glass, the rock.

I was inclined to agree. The thought of these people, of Keir, in Velaris... Tainting it with their presence, their hatred and small-mindedness, their disdain and cruelty...

It’s the way Feyre and the IC hates the CoN for their views... then literally does nothing to try and change them. They’ll coerce them into fighting for them when it’s needed. They’ll force them to do their bidding when they want. They’ll control them and make them be their entertainment when they deem it necessary. Then they won’t fucking rule the court. It’s infuriating. 

I said it once, and I’ll say it again. People are more than their prejudices. That doesn’t make those prejudices nonexistent. That doesn’t make their views suddenly not harmful. That doesn’t make their actions, their inaction, or their agreement with horrific things happening within their court suddenly okay.

What it does do is acknowledge that people have more depth than their opinions on one topic. They’re still people. The males the IC send to die in their wars after neglecting their court for years on end all have families. They might be brothers. They might be husbands. They might be fathers, or sons, or friends. They’re more than their beliefs on one topic, and it’s like the IC refuses to treat the CoN as people.

And it’s like... when they treat the CoN like shit, practice nothing but cold disdain towards them, and constantly neglect the court... do they expect these people’s views to change?? Or are these people realistically going to see the person (Mor) who defied the traditions of their court for the other side of the NC (the Inner Circle), that now constantly abuses the CoN and its ruler as their enemies, their rivals? Are they going to acknowledge that their views were ignorant and unfair? Or will they dig their heels in, let their anger at the IC cloud any chance of changing their minds?

Look, my point is that you can’t fix hate with more hate. Mor (and the IC, by way of being her family) have every right to hate the people involved in what happened to Mor. But they hate the CoN for its archaic, unfair values, abuse the court and use that as justification, then... literally do nothing to attempt to change that?? Literally, they never try to help the other victims of the court. I don’t understand what the fuck they expected to happen.

[vampiregirl1797]

When Two Become Three

Rhysand x Feyre x Female Reader

GIF Not Mine

Word count: 7,966

Summary; when Rhysand had reached maturity at 18, he had been graced with not one but two soulmate marks. A triad of mates wasn’t unheard of, but it was rare. So rare that he was sure to keep that knowledge a secret from his father, lest he find out he had not one but two mates to use against him. Thankfully, he didn’t find either of his mates before his father was killed. He found Feyre and nearly lost her Under the Mountain, and now they both wonder if and when they’ll meet their missing thread to complete their bond. It just so happens they find her when out for a family meal at Sevenda’s.

Warnings: SMUT—18+ readers only please, polyamorous relationship; if you don’t like don’t read. Character fainting, mention of not eating, mention of vomiting.

A/N: Hey guys! Hope you’re all okay! I’ve been looking for Feyre x Rhysand x Reader fanfics for a while now and I’ve only been able to find a handful?? So as a result, this one-shot ended up cooking inside my brain and I had to get it out! I hope you like it. Please forgive the smut, I’ve not written any for a while, so I’m a little rusty.

Masterlist Here.

It was rare, the concept of three people being soulmates. So much so, there were only a handful of cases throughout the entirety of Prynthian history. When Rhysand found that he had not one, but two mate marks on his porcelain skin, he knew what it meant. He had been surprised, but something bloomed inside of his chest at the idea of having not one, but two beautiful mates to love and cherish. The marks had bloomed when he matured at eighteen years old; it was tradition for the marks to appear on the inner wrist. His followed tradition, it just meant he had one on both wrists, which he was careful to hide from his father. While there weren’t many mentions, triad mates were rare, and he didn’t trust his father with the information. He wouldn’t put it past him to find his mates just to use them against him, and having two meant double the chances of manipulation. So, he carefully glamoured one to be invisible, and the other was glamoured to show a completely different symbol to what was there.

​Thankfully, his mates didn’t surface while his father was still alive, nor when Amarantha captured him for half a century. Well, at least, not until he’d been send off to scout for traitors in the Spring Court; something he’d requested as his dreams had led him to believe one of his mates was there. And then he’d found her, and almost lost her within the span of a few weeks. Watching as her neck snapped had devastated him, and in his desperation he’d managed to make her linger until he could use the other High Lord’s to bring her back. Once she’d awoken in her knew body and opted to leave with Tamlin… He’d been devastated but he understood; the version of him she’d seen under the mountain had hardly inspired feelings of anything other than disdain.

​But, when Feyre had begged for someone to help her on what was supposed to be her wedding to the High Lord of the Spring Court, he’d been powerless to ignore her pleas. He’s called in the bargain they had made Under the Mountain, and spent a week attempting to even out her hallow cheeks and to help the purple bruises from sleeplessness fade. But it was clear Tamlin was treating her abysmally. What hurt more was that there was nothing he could do about it. Leaving him had to be her decision, but Rhysand knew she loved him despite the way he treated her. When he had sent Mor to save her upon a horrendous panic attack that followed Tamlin locking her inside that house… the High Lord of the Night Court had been enraged. If it hadn’t been for his concern for Feyre outweighing his anger, he would have tracked him down and turned him into mist.

​From that point, their relationship had progressed from hateful glares, to smiles that had his heart warming and her cheeks colouring an alluring red. From her picking arguments, to them exchanging words in soft whispers into the early hours of the morning. From her avoiding being near Rhysand, to her seeking out his touch.

When they reached the point of consummating their bond, and they felt it snap into place, they both felt the absence of another that prevented them from feeling completely whole. They spent time tracing over the identical marks they had on their wrists, over the symbol that represented the other mate they had yet to meet.

The second war with Hybern delayed things, but it was afterwards that they found her. She was one of the humans who had been rescued from the human lands after the wall had fell. All of them had been transported to Velaris, and offered permanent residence there after the war should they wish. She was one of the ones who wished to stay, and they found her when they visited Sevenda’s restaurant. She had been a waitress, and offered them both bright smiles as she made it around the table to fill our empty glasses with wine.

‘Would you like some?’ Her voice had been soft and delicate.

The High Lord had managed a nod, still not recovering from the feeling of the bond forming between them. He managed a glance over to Feyre and saw she felt it too. This was their missing piece. Their mate. But it was clear she didn’t feel what they were feeling as she filled both of their glasses with a blush of attraction and a departing smile.

I don’t understand; how did she not feel it? Feyre asked, sounding bewildered even through their mind-link.

Perhaps because she is human? He took her hand in his and moved his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand. She flipped her hand over to interlock their fingers and shuffled close enough for him to feel her body heat radiating from her.

That would make sense. The concept of mates isn’t discussed in the mortal world; I didn’t know of it until you explained it to me, and what my marks meant. She said wistfully, and he knew they were both remembering the first time her eyes had fallen onto the identical mark they shared, the one that they now knew represented her. It was a rose, so red it looked almost black, and the stem had thorns in the shape of stars. They had both marvelled at the beauty of it countless times over the past year, after Rhysand had explained what it meant, and now they could put a face to the mark. She didn’t disappoint. Now they just had to find a way to explain what this meant, without scaring her off from her new home.

Reader P.O.V

You think I’d be used to it by now; the overwhelming beauty that every single member living in Velaris possessed, but apparently I wasn’t. I hadn’t taken them in properly at first as I’d begun pouring wine for the other inhumanely beautiful members at the table; I recognised them all as they’d been in a few times before and the owner, Sevenda had mentioned them in passing on the night’s they’d been in but I hadn’t been in that section to serve them. They all seemed to radiate a warm and happy energy that subconsciously had me relaxing whenever they were in my proximity. But I hadn’t been prepared to be face to face with him and her. Rhysand and Feyre. High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court.

I’d caught glimpses of them here and there in the City when I was on one of my days off and taking a stroll through the markets. It was rare to see one of them without the other, and I seemed to be incapable of tearing my eyes from them, watching wistfully at the love they clearly shared together. It was beautiful, truly. But I’d gotten used to admiring from afar, and being so close, close enough to smell them… well I’d nearly dropped the bottle of red wine in their laps and that might have resulted in me getting fired on the spot. As nice as Sevenda was, I didn’t think she’d appreciate me spilling wine on two of her favourite customers. They smelled like sea air, citrus and… honey. I didn’t know which scents belonged to whom, but together it was captivating. God, I was pathetic. Lusting after a mated couple, a couple who could probably have me executed at the lustful thoughts that had been running through my head since I’d first spotted them, which was weeks ago.

‘Y/N? Are you alright sweet?’ Sevenda’s soft voice made my breath catch in surprise.

‘I’m okay, sorry I just needed a second.’ I smiled sheepishly; making my way out of the storage closet I’d hastily entered to calm myself down.

‘Are you sure? You left rather hastily, did something happen?’ Her brows furrowed in concern and I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. She was genuinely worried about me and the only think that had happened was my inability to control my attraction for a couple I shouldn’t be lusting after.

‘Absolutely. I’ll get back to work right away, I’m so sorry for the delay.’ I apologised sincerely, smoothening the imaginary creases in my apron in a nervous gesture.

‘Not to worry, there’s just the one table left in your section anyway and they’re still deciding on their order.’ She smiled warmly, patting me on the shoulder and closing the storage room door behind us.

‘Okay. Is there anything else I can do while they decide? Any dishes? Cleaning?’ I asked hopefully; if I got absorbed enough in a task and they needed to order when I wasn’t finished, she would send another waiter to take over the table.

‘No, no.’ She shook her head, ‘everything’s taken care of dear. You can go to the bar and settle with a drink if you like.’

Sevenda was an amazing boss; if it was running slow and we only had a few tables to look after and there was nothing else to do, she was happy to let us sit for a little with a drink at the bar; so long as it wasn’t alcoholic. Being at the bar meant that we could still see the tables in our section, for when they needed us, while being able to take a moment of reprieve after a busy day. It was always busy at Sevenda’s.

‘Thank you.’ I smiled and headed over to the bar, and took a seat. I asked for a cup of tea; Sevenda’s famous blend that tasted sweet with a hint of spice. I made sure I was sitting with my remaining table in my line of sight, and found myself powerless to stop my eyes from roaming where they really shouldn’t.

I felt the warmth from my tea seeping through the mug I was holding into my hands as I took them in. I knew the others’ names by now, but they didn’t garner my attention like Feyre and Rhysand were able to.

Rhysand’s eyes were violet, with shimmers of what appeared to be starlight moving through them. His cheekbones and jaw structure gave his face a structure I’d never imagined anyone other than gods could have. His hair was so dark it looked blue in some lights, and it looked incredibly soft; I wanted to run my hands through it to feel the texture myself. I knew he was tall; I’d seen him next to Azriel and Cassian numerous times before, and he had a few inches on them at least, and he was almost a foot taller than Feyre. His shoulders were broad, and I just knew he was as muscular as the Shadowsinger and General that often sported Illyrian leathers that did nothing to hide their muscular forms. He had tattoos over his hands and peeking out from the collar on his neck, but he often wore long sleeves and high collars, so I had no idea how big they were or how far they went. Which was probably a good thing; I spent too long staring as it was.

When I wasn’t staring at him, I was staring at her. Her beauty was just as captivating; I’d always thought her eyes were a light blue, but when I’d met her gaze earlier they’d been a beautiful grey that had made my heart skip a beat. Her hair was long and golden in colour; it looked just as soft as Rhys.’ She had a few freckles on her face, and I wondered if she had any anywhere else, clearing my throat and urging the flush on my face to dissipate. I’d never been stood next to her, but I had the feeling she was a few inches taller than me, and I briefly imagined being stood in-between the both of them, two sets of arms wrapped around me, their warmth surrounding me like a cocoon of comfort.

They complimented each other perfectly. He was night and she was dawn. He was dark hair and violet eyes that gleamed with starlight, and she was golden hair and eyes that shone blue like a new crisp morning. It was no wonder I was drawn to them, but it had to stop. I was setting myself for heartbreak and potentially trouble; they were High Lord and High Lady after all.

A sound of booming laughter bought me out of my daze, and I looked away from the captivating couple to see Cassian laughing loudly, Mor blushing and Azriel looking like he wanted to wring the General’s neck. Ameren didn’t seem interested; she was staring at her glass of red wine and swirling it around in the glass as if she wished it were something else. I noticed their menus were now closed and I stood, repressing a sigh and hoping that the butterflies in my stomach would calm down as I approached their table. No such luck.

‘Hey everyone, have you decided on what meal’s you’d like?’ I pulled out a pen and paper to give me something to do with my hands, and somewhere to direct my focus.

‘Yes, girl we’ll all take the house special please.’ Ameren said with a toothy smile that might have been terrifying if it hadn’t been for the warmth in her silver eyes.

‘You got it.’ I grinned, making a note on my pad, ‘do you need anything else?’

‘More wine would be lovely, darling.’ Rhys’ smooth voice said from the other end of the table.

I nodded, my gaze focused on the pad in front of me as I pretended to write something more. I whimpered internally at the pet name and hoped no one noticed how my hand shook to be on the receiving end of that endearment.

‘Great, I’ll get your order started and fetch more wine for you.’ I smiled and left the table to head towards the kitchen.

I forced myself to pass the storage cupboard, figuring that needing two breathers in one shift was just ridiculous. I pulled off the paper with their orders and pinned it to the board for Sevenda and retrieved a fresh bottle of red wine. I’d noticed that not every glass needed topping up, so one should suffice. I allowed myself a few deep breaths in the hallway before I re-emerged with their wine, willing the freaking bats in my stomach to fly away; of course, they didn’t. I forced myself to approach their table anyway, starting with Cassian’s glass; the General offered me a thankful smile before I moved on, not stopping his conversation with Azriel. I filled Mor’s next, then topped up Azriel’s and Ameren’s.

I tried to take another discrete deep breath as I turned to fill Feyre’s glass, but that was a mistake because I took in a lungful of that glorious combination again. I paused, overwhelmed with what I could only describe was completely them. I frowned when the room appeared to be spinning and I wondered how the world was suddenly falling and why no one else was concerned about it, but then I was warm, so pleasantly warm and I didn’t care anymore. Someone was stroking my hair, another hand stroking my spine, and my lungs were still full of the tantalising breath I’d taken earlier. And when my vision started to darken around the edges, the panic trying to bubble up inside of me lost the battle as I fell unconscious feeling calmer than I’d felt in years.

//

I woke slowly feeling confused and disorientated. I opened my eyes only to close them again with a groan from the brightness in the room. I heard a whisper that was too soft for me to hear, but when I attempted to open my eyes again, the room was bathed in a softer light. It took me longer than it should have to realise I was staring at the ceiling in Sevenda’s, and even longer to realise that I was being spoken to.

‘Y/N? Sweetheart, can you hear me?’ Feyre’s soft voice had my eyes falling from the ceiling to my right where the High Lady was kneeling beside me, her eyes grey with concern. I wondered if strong emotions made that happen, or if it was just the lighting.

‘What happened?’ I attempted to sit up, but two gentle hands made me stay where I was; one belonged to Feyre, and the other to the High Lord. I felt the warmth of their touch through my work shirt, and tried to hide my disappointment when they removed their hands when I didn’t fight to sit up.

‘You fainted.’ Rhysand murmured, his violet eyes making me lose my train of thought for a moment when I saw the worry shining in them.

‘Oh. Oh! I was supposed to be pouring you wine, and your food! Shit! I didn’t spill wine all over you did I?’ I fussed, once again trying to sit up, but their hands kept me down, their grip gentle but firm.

‘Y/N, everything is fine, no wine was spilled and the food isn’t even ready to be served yet. If you think I’m going to let you carry on working tonight then you must be insane!’ Sevenda stepped closer, her face appearing in my eye line, ‘when was the last time you ate?’

I bit my lip, looking down guiltily as I mumbled nonsensical words under my breath.

‘What?’ She didn’t shout, but her voice held no room for argument.

‘I can’t remember,’ I sighed, wincing at her sound of disapproval, ‘It’s been busy, and when I’m busy I don’t really feel hungry, and if I do it’s not like I can just stop working to eat at my own leisure!’

‘Of course you can!’ She sounded exasperated, and I knew if I were to look, she’d have her hands on her waist and her mouth contorted into a frown.

‘I’m sorry.’ I murmured, fighting tears as my emotions overwhelmed me. I was embarrassed that I’d fainted, shamed that it had happened at work, angry that I hadn’t been taking care of myself, and mortified that this had happened in front of the two people I’d been admiring for weeks. It was not my day.

‘You’re going to eat with us.’ Rhysand spoke up, his lips lifting into a smile when I looked over to him in surprise, ‘and then you’re going to come home with us, so our healer can look you over and make sure there are no other reasons why you fainted.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t impose on you like that, and—.’ My mouth snapped shut when Feyre took my hand in hers and her warm smile took my breath away.

‘You’re eating with us and coming home with us, if you want to leave after the healer has looked you over then that’s fine, but please let us do this for you.’ Her eyes were shining grey again, and I was powerless to stop myself from nodding my head.

‘Excellent!’ She smiled brightly and then I was breathless all over again. She stood up and Rhysand carefully helped me sit up while the High Lady murmured something to Sevenda.

A wave of nausea washed over me for a moment and I held onto the High Lord’s forearm to anchor myself. I could feel his heat through the black shirt he was wearing, and the way his muscled tensed as if he were preparing for me to faint again. I took a few deep breaths and nodded to assure him I was fine. I didn’t look up to see his expression, but one of his hands curled around my back and the other he offered to me for support. I placed my hand in his, and as I pushed myself up I noticed the cuff of his shirt inch down his wrist, revealing a very familiar symbol. When I was standing, I reached for it unthinkingly, sliding down his shirt cuff further to reveal the full mark. It was an archer’s bow with a crescent moon behind it. It was on of the images I’d spend hours staring at and tracing over with my index finger, wondering what it meant, wondering why no one else I knew had one. And now I was staring at its identical twin on the wrist of a man who was mated to someone else.

‘How?’ I managed to murmur, releasing him to reveal my left wrist to him, to help him understand my confusion.

‘I promise you, darling, we’ll explain everything after dinner.’ Rhysand’s voice was soft, his eyes were guarded but I thought I could sense apprehension coming from him.

I didn’t know why, there was no logical reason, but I found myself nodding in acceptance, and following him and Feyre out the door. I didn’t know either of them, not beyond their titles of High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court, but I felt comfortable in their presence, my body seemed drawn to them. I didn’t know why, but I found myself not wanting to fight it when it felt so right, nor did I question it.

‘We’re going to eat at the new house, along the river, if that’s okay? It’s a little more private and quiet.’ Feyre murmured after a shared look with Rhysand.

‘That’s fine.’ I replied, trying not to fidget as I walked in between them. I could feel the warmth radiating from them both and I had to resist the urge to burrow in closer. Now that I knew what it felt like to be completely surrounded by them, I found myself craving it.

We reached the house after a few minutes, and I was led into a kitchen with a small and intimate circular dining table that seated four people. With a wave of his hand, the food Feyre had carried back from the restaurant was unloaded onto three plates, and the lights in the room softened into a more intimate lighting. I knew it was because he’d noticed my sensitivity before, but it still made my heart pick up pace.

I bit my lip and sat down in the middle seat, realising too late that meant they weren’t sat together. I went to stand and correct my mistake, but they waved me off with soft smiles. I took a deep breath and felt my mouth water at the smell of the divine food; steak, potatoes, vegetables and gravy. I had no idea what Sevenda did to the meat to make it so tender and flavoursome, but I swore I could have lived on just those steaks forever. Before I knew it, my food was gone, and I was washing it down with the glass of water beside my now empty plate.

‘Good?’ Feyre asked, her eyes dancing with mirth. I noted they looked bluer now and found myself cataloguing that information in the back of my brain.

‘Amazing, as always.’ I grinned, missing the flush that rose on her cheeks at my happiness.

‘I couldn’t agree more, Sevenda always outdoes herself.’ Rhysand commented, taking a sip of wine and pushing his now empty plate towards the centre of the table. I noticed a drop of wine escape from the corner of his mouth, and I had to bite back a gasp as his tongue shot out to catch it.

I missed his smirk and the heated look he shared with Feyre at my reaction.

‘So, now we’ve eaten.’ I started, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt, ‘can you explain what these mean?’ I held out my wrists so they could both see the symbols adorned on either arm.

I was unable to bite back my gasp as they each reached out to trace over my skin; Feyre’s index finger followed the archer’s bow on my right, while Rhysand’s followed the mountain outline on my left, his touch lingering at the three stars at the top.

‘These, darling, are mating symbols.’ He murmured, their touches simultaneously left my skin and they both rolled up their own sleeves to reveal a myriad of markings, but prominent on their wrists were two familiar symbols, and one not so familiar symbol.

Rhysand had the archer’s bow, which I had already seen, and Feyre had the mountain and three stars, but they both had a red rose, with stars on the stem instead of thorns. I felt something in my heart twitch as I traced over that symbol on their skin, unexplainably drawn to it.

‘One symbol for each of us.’ I realised.

‘Exactly.’ Feyre agreed, her free hand lifting to tuck a tendril of hair behind my ear, ‘this is your symbol, sweetheart.’

‘You’re the bow.’ I didn’t know how I knew, I just did when she nodded I turned to Rhysand, ‘and you’re the mountain.’

Rhysand’s smile was bright, his eyes were hesitant. They were afraid, I realised, worried over how I was going to react over the information.

‘What does this mean exactly?’ I asked, withdrawing my hands from their skin even though every cell in my body begged me not to; I couldn’t get too carried away, especially if this didn’t mean what I hoped it meant.

‘Are you familiar with the creation story?’ Rhysand asked, his voice soft. He continued when I nodded, ‘mating bonds are given to those who the Mother deems are perfect for each other. Of course, in some cases despite the potential for love, others thirst for other concepts such as power has overpowered it and led to loveless bonds.’

‘But that’s not the case for us.’ Feyre said firmly, reaching over to squeeze the High Lord’s hand.

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection before he continued, ‘of course, those involved have the option to reject the bond. It’s rare, but there are cases when two people have met, fallen in love, and one has come across their intended mate afterwards, but decided to remain in their current relationship.’

‘Of course, you can also accept the bond.’ Feyre picked up from Rhysand’s words, ‘by presenting your mate, or mates, with food you are saying you accept the bond and want to consolidate it further with a commitment ceremony.’

‘But what if I present you with food and you don’t want the bond?’ I murmured, my index finger trailing over the pattern of lace on the tablecloth.

An index finger lifted my chin, and I looked into soft violet eyes as the High Lord murmured, ‘we wouldn’t not want the bond, Y/N.’

All I could see in his eyes was sincerity, and when I looked over to Feyre, she was emitting the same emotion.

‘But,’ I felt my heart drop as Feyre started, I knew it was too good to be true, ‘we understand if this seems too fast for you. There’s no deadline on consecrating the bond, so take your time.’

‘We’d love it if you would consider moving in here with us? Just to be closer and get to know not just us, but the whole household, better. Consecrated bond or not, you’re still our mate and part of the family.’ Rhysand continued when he noticed how my jaw had dropped, ‘you’d have your own room of course, and we could make sure it’s nowhere near ours if that makes you more comfortable.’

‘And you don’t have to move in, of course, it would just settle us to have you near, but the choice is completely yours.’ Feyre added, sharing a worried look with Rhysand.

When I didn’t respond, Rhysand and Feyre took a hand each and squeezed.

‘Y/N?’ Feyre’s soft voice had me looking over to her, ‘are you okay?’

‘I—.’ I took a breath, savouring the wash of comfort as I inhaled their scents, ‘I don’t know where to—how to—.’

‘It’s okay, maybe moving in is too fast—.’ Feyre stopped when I shook my head and patiently waited for me to explain.

‘I don’t have any food.’ I frowned, wishing I’d left a couple of bites so I could have something to offer them, ‘but I could make something…’ I stood up and wondered over to the cupboards to look for something I could present to them, and when I found a bar of chocolate I turned excitedly and snapped it in half.

I went to hand Rhysand his section, but his hand covered mine before I could give it to him. I met his gaze and felt my heartbeat quicken at the hesitant joy I saw in his eyes, ‘are you sure you want to do this now? If you need time, darling, we’re more than content to wait.’

‘I’m sure.’ I didn’t hesitate and smiled brightly when he took his half of the chocolate and immediately began eating it. I handed Feyre hers and beamed when she did the same.

When they were done I felt something shift inside me, like threads that were entwining, winding together to find their places amongst one another. When they settled, my heart warmed with pure happiness and unbridled joy, and something else that festered, bubbled and quickly took over, and when I looked in between my mates I knew they felt it too—hunger.

//

I couldn’t tell you how we ended up in what I assumed was their bedroom. All I knew was one minute I was overwhelmed with my attraction to them, and the next I was in Rhysand’s arms, being surrounded by shadows that revealed an extravagant bedroom when they dissipated. I was too far gone to take in any details and found my nails digging into his shoulders when I felt Feyre come up behind me and settle her hands on my hips. Rhys’ hands ripped—yes ripped—my shirt down the middle, buttons hitting the floor and cool air hitting my skin. My gasp at the sensation quickly became a whimper as Feyre’s lips fell to my now exposed neck, as she sucked and nipped at that spot just below my ear. I was powerless to stop my hips arching forward, straight into Rhys’ and making him growl at the friction it created. Goose bumps broke out across my skin at the sound, and my hands travelled down to the buttons on his shirt, incapable of getting my brain to focus long enough to figure out how to undo them, but I tugged at them to let him know I wanted it off.

He chuckled, but lifted his hands and complied with my silent request slowly. My eyes followed his fingers to every button, I could feel my eyes darkening the lower he got, the more skin he exposed. My hands fell from the material still covering his shoulders to the open chasm on his chest, I glided over the smooth skin, trailed over his abs and the swirled markings he had decorating him. His eyes darkened and he leaned down, sealing his mouth over mine and trapping me completely between the both of them. I heard his shirt drop to the floor and moaned at the feel of his skin against mine, when he shifted even closer, I gasped at the friction against my nipples.

He took the opportunity, slipping his tongue into my mouth and winding my ponytail around his wrist to tilt my head and make the kiss even deeper. His tongue flicked against mine and I groaned, my hands moving to his hair to pull him closer. I hadn’t noticed Feyre had stopped kissing my neck to observe us, until she started again, and I swear to god my whole vision whitened out behind my eyelids from the pleasure of both of them kissing me at once.

I could feel I was being led somewhere, and when I was twisted to lie back on the bed I realised what was happening. Rhys’ lips moved from mine to the spot Feyre had relinquished to guide me to lie down. One of my hands fell to the back of his neck, while the other blindly reached out for her. Her hand found mine and I looked over to see her kneeling beside my head; she gave me a wicked smile and guided my hand down in between her legs, to her folds. I had no idea if they timed it, or if it was coincidental, but the moment my fingers made contact with her wetness, Rhys’ fingers found my folds at the same time.

We all moaned in unison, and time seemed to stop for a split second before our primal hunger took over. My fingers moved over Feyre’s silky folds, moving back and forth across her swollen g-spot. I felt my own arousal spike at how beautiful she looked whilst lost in pleasure; her cheeks were flushed, her breasts were bouncing as her hips moved with my fingers and her nipples were taught. Rhysand groaned against my throat, his fingers moving down until he reached my entrance and he slipped inside of me. I moaned, my eyes pinching closed with pleasure, my fingers continuing their assault on Feyre. I moved my fingers inside of her too, curling them to enhance her desire and when she gasped I felt my walls tighten around Rhysand’s fingers. I felt him grin against my collarbone as he started to kiss his way down my chest, his tongue and teeth assaulting my nipples in a way that made me arch further into him.

I was so overwhelmed with everything that was happening, that I didn’t realise his intention until his tongue flicked against my swollen folds, the sensation making me scream and my back arch up into him. His hand found my hips and held me steady. I met his gaze and he sent me a wink that made my toes curl before my view was obstructed. Feyre had removed my fingers from inside her to gently lower herself over my chest. She leaned down and captured my lips in a kiss that was both gentle and passionate, before she shuffled up and directed my mouth to her folds. My hands went to her thighs, holding her open and allowing me the access I needed as I leaned forward and swiped my tongue over her clit. She moaned loudly and threw her head back. I slipped two fingers into her again, curling them as I sucked on her g-spot. She screamed and her hips started to move on their own; she rode me and I moaned against her as Rhysand continued to expertly unravel me. I flattened my tongue against her as she continued to move, her arousal coating my mouth as she got closer and closer to her orgasm. Rhys opened my legs wider and pulled me down a few inches, causing me to lick downward on Feyre’s clit, down to her entrance, and when her hips moved up again, she started to shake as I was now focused on that particular spot.

I could feel my own orgasm approaching and I knew, if I came before her I wouldn’t be able to focus long enough to help her reach her own pleasure, so as her hips moved again, I pulled my tongue back and sucked her clit in between my lips to enhance her pleasure. Her hands fell to my hair and she pulled at as she came undone, her hips continuing to move as she fell through her high. Once she recovered, she shifted to kneel beside me once again, kissing me and licking her arousal from around my mouth. Rhys lifted my hips higher, and his fingers moved deeper just about touching me on that spot inside of me and I moaned, my fingers digging into the mattress beside me. I was so close. I could feel it, and apparently they could too. Feyre’s lips fell to my neck, her hands to my breasts and her fingers played with my nipples, rolling them between her middle finger and thumb. I groaned, the spike of pleasure caused by her actions inching me that much closer, and when Rhys sucked on my clit right there, I shattered. I thought I screamed, but I wasn’t completely sure, all I knew was that I felt good. Really, really good.

​‘That was perfect, love.’ Feyre murmured into my neck.

​‘You took my fingers so well, and let Feyre ride you so good.’ Rhys whispered into my thigh, ‘such a good girl.’

​I felt myself shiver at his words, a fresh wave of arousal traveling through me. My two mates shared a look of delighted surprise as they lay down on either side of me.

​‘Do you like that, our beautiful mate?’ Rhysand purred, his hand moving over my stomach and lower, ‘do you like it when we tell you what a good girl you are?’

​I moaned in answer, gasping when he gripped my hips and effortlessly pulled me to straddle him.

​‘Are you going to be a good girl and ride our High Lords cock?’ Feyre asked, her hand pumping up and down on Rhys’ erect cock. I couldn’t help but bite my lip at the sight of him; he was so big and he was already weeping with pre-cum.

​‘Yes.’ I whispered, shuffling forward to line him up at my entrance. I looked up into his eyes as I sank down slowly. I could feel myself clenching around him already, eager to take in every single inch of him until he was sheathed completely inside of me.

​My head fell back, enjoying how he stretched me so deliciously, how he filled me so completely. When I looked back up, I saw Feyre lowering herself down onto his face, just as she had with me before. I groaned at the sight of his tongue moving against her folds and I noticed her expression mirrored mine, aroused to see our High Lord’s cock inside me. I leaned forward, resting my hands against Rhys’ chest as I lifted myself up and back down for the first time. I gasped at the shot of pleasure that travelled up my spine, and when I shifted my hips a little to the side as I moved up and down again, I screamed as I felt him slide against the spot inside me that made me see stars. I heard Rhysand groan against Feyre’s sex, as I started moving with speed, positioning my hips to hit that spot with every movement.

I was going to come fast, I could feel it; there was no way I could hold out when I was feeling so much ecstasy all at once. I could feel my knees weakening as I neared my end and I reached out, clutching Feyre’s hands in mine as I came harder than I ever had before. Feyre seemed to move from Rhys in the blink of an eye, and I was beneath him, my thighs pressed against my chest as he bent me in half. He was deeper this way, seeming to move even further against my g-spot, and he was quick, he was rough and I was helpless to stop myself from clawing at his shoulders as my body once again raced towards a peak that I didn’t know I was ready for. His lips were on that spot on my neck, his hands were holding my thighs so that he could get so deep inside me, and I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak, it was too much, it was too much, I was going to—. I came so hard that I didn’t make a sound. I was incapable of speech as my body was overcome with such sheer pleasure that I couldn’t see anything but white. If it weren’t for Rhysand’s weight on top of me, I would have been certain I was floating. I felt weightless, boneless, and I shuddered as I felt Rhys swear against my collarbone as he reached his end and I felt his come fill me up in hot spurts.

When I managed to find the energy to open my eyes, I looked over to see Feyre kneeling beside us, riding her own fingers to completion, getting off on the sight of her two mates together. I bit my lip as we watched her reach her high, her skin shimmering with her pleasure as she lay down beside us. Rhysand shifted as if he were going to move from on top of me, and my nails reflexively dug into his shoulders to stop him. He sent me a wicked grin, but lowered my legs to rest around his hips and turned us to the side so that he was still inside me. Feyre snuggled closer to my back and reached over to hold us both.

I felt my eyes fluttering shut as they started placing gentle kisses anywhere their lips could reach; my neck, shoulders, cheeks, forehead and lips. I’d never felt more content in my whole life, so when my exhaustion claimed me, I didn’t try to fight it. I welcomed it with open arms and a happy sigh.

//

Three Months Later

I wiped the tears from my cheeks as I stood and flushed the toilet. I hated being sick, absolutely detested it. Even when the food I’d managed to consume for breakfast was gone, the sickness tried to make me give more. I washed my hands and splashed some water onto my face, refusing to meet my reflection in the mirror. I knew how I’d look; gaunt, grey skinned and like death. I’d been throwing up everyday for the past three days now. I was pretty sure it was food poisoning, so I’d managed to hold my protective mates off on summoning a healer, but now I knew I’d have no choice. Food poisoning didn’t last this long, and while my other theory was a sickness bug, I knew I’d held off their concern for too long as it was.

I sighed and shuffled back into the bedroom, collapsing face first into the silk sheets and pulling the covers up over my head. I knew I needed to eat and drink something, but the only time I didn’t feel nauseous was when I was lying down, and the kitchen was two floors below our bedroom. I nuzzled further into the mattress, feeling a wave of comfort from my mates scents that lingered on the sheets. I knew they were out conducting business in the Illyrian camps with Cassian today, so I would be alone until dinnertime at least. So when sleep moved to claim me again, I didn’t resist.

‘Y/N?’ Azriel’s voice bought me out of my slumber. I had to blink a few times to wake myself up completely, and when I did I noticed the concern in the Shadowsinger’s hazel eyes.

‘Az? What time is it?’ I groaned, moving to stretch and freezing at the wave of sickness that washed over me. I clenched my eyes shut and preyed for it to pass, but of course it didn’t.

I grabbed Azriel’s hand to pull myself out of bed quickly and darted around him for the bathroom. I made it just in time for me to throw up bile into the toilet. I sobbed as dry heaves racked through my body for the next few minutes, waiting until my stomach settled before I pulled myself off the floor. I sat on the toilet, feeling too weak to stand, and rinsed my mouth out with mouthwash.

‘You’re still sick?’ Az’s soft voice drew my attention to the doorway where he was standing, his arms crossed over his chest and his wings outstretched behind him; a sign he was worried.

‘Yeah. So much for food poisoning.’ I joked weakly after I’d spat the mouthwash into the sink. I went to stand but I stumbled, the Shadowsinger reached out, taking one of my hands in his while the other went to my waist to steady me.

‘You need a healer.’ He said, his deep voice gravely with concern.

‘I know.’ I sighed, shuffling into bed and putting some pillows between my back and the headboard so I could comfortably sit up, ‘where are Feyre and Rhys?’

‘They’re on their way back, they just wanted me to check on you and see how you were doing.’ He said, settling into the armchair after he pulled it to sit beside the bed.

‘I’m sorry you had to see me in such a state.’ I said, not wanting to be a burden on him.

‘Hey.’ His hand captured mine, ‘you’re family. That means we’re all going to worry about you when you’re sick, it’s a part of the deal.’

We shared a smile and looked up when the double doors flew open to reveal our High Lord and High Lady. Despite how awful I was feeling, I could feel myself light up at their presence, just as they did whenever they saw me.

‘Darling, how are you feeling?’ Rhysand asked coming over and feeling my forehead. I leaned into his touch and squeezed Feyre’s hand as she slid into the bed next to me.

‘I’m still sick.’ I admitted, knowing as much as I didn’t want to worry them, I couldn’t lie to them either.

‘Please let us summon a healer for you,’ Feyre pleaded, ‘whatever this is, it can’t be food poisoning.’

‘I know and I agree.’ I smiled sheepishly at their surprise, ‘I’m sorry it took so long for me to admit, I just didn’t want to waste the healers time if I just had a little bought of food poisoning.’

‘Magda is our personal healer, darling, I can guarantee you wouldn’t be wasting her time, you’d be allowing her to do her job,’ he reassured me.

Azriel left to summon the healer and Rhys climbed in on the other side of me. My head fell to his shoulder, while Feyre’s fell to mine, and we held each other like that until Magda arrived a few minutes later.

Rhys had to move to allow her access to me, but Feyre stayed on my other side, her hand continuing to hold mine and squeeze reassuringly as I explained my symptoms. Once I was done, she smiled knowingly and pulled a test vial from her bag. She took my finger and pricked it with a needle before adding a drop of my blood to the clear liquid. She placed a stopper on the top, shook it and waited for a moment. I watched in confusion, and when the liquid turned pink the healer grinned. Either she was a sadist, or it was good news.

‘Well you don’t have a sickness bug,’ she reassured me placing the vial into her bag, ‘you’re pregnant, about three months I’d say.’

I felt the whole room pause as we all processed the news in shock. Pregnant? I was Pregnant? How did my mates feel about this? Rhysand and Feyre seemed to react simultaneously, both beaming with happiness. I felt the prickle of doubt in my mind ease away at the sight of their excitement, allowing my own to bubble to the surface. I vaguely noticed the healer and Azriel leaving the room as Rhys re-joined us in the bed. Feyre was stroking my hair and kissing my forehead, while our other mate was speaking softly to my stomach, placing soft kisses to my abdomen every few minutes. Both of them thanked me for giving them such a precious gift, for being so perfect and strong and beautiful. We stayed in our little bubble of happiness for hours. We wiped away each other’s tears of joy and exchanged kisses and words of disbelief.

We were having a baby, and I knew none of us could be more thrilled.

[sunatooru]

This is a random but cute idea, I got! So you know of the whole friends to lover schtick like “the one that’s always been there for them no matter what” kinda deal? So Suna, Bokuto, Kuroo, and Iwaizumi are friends with Y/N who’s always been by their side through and through. She has a crush on them (they aren’t aware of it) but accepts that her feelings might not be returned, but after a few days of her not showing up to school or answering their messages/calls; They hear from one of her friends about her moving to America (mainly heard her last name and the word moving). And they get this big ass realization about how much they love her and how amazing she is. They’re terrified that they’ll never see her again, so these guys just book it to her place and when they finally see her, they give her a hella tight hug as they confess their feelings, how much they love her, and that they don’t want her to go. Y/N is both confused and relieved that her crush returns her feelings but explains that she’s helping her relative move out to the states so she’s been too busy to talk or be at school but she confesses her feelings back to them and gives them a kiss.

(God, I’m so sorry for how long this became 😭)

Hiiii these were cutee and also I love when requests are super long and detailed!! So thank youuuu, I hope you like them and let me know pleasee xx

~

A/n - Are these dramatic or do I want to be loved??? 

~

Suna

You watch him go through his phone. He always looked so relaxed and pretty. You two had been friends for a while now. Always telling each other what's going on around school, teasing his least favourite twin and just always being around each other. You were falling for him hard. The way his eyes would slightly widen when he watched his favourite show. The little air he puffs when he sees a funny meme. Everything he did made your heart beat faster.

When you realised how much you liked him you were overjoyed. Being close friends with your crush was rare and yet you got to enjoy his presence.

However, overtime you realised he never really acknowledges you. Yes, he talks and hangs out with you but he didn't seem interested in the same way you were with him. When you accepted he wouldn't return your feelings, you just continued to act like it didn't hurt you every time he smiled at someone else.

He noticed you hadn't been at school for the last 2 days, not thinking much until he heard your name.

"Yeah I heard they're leaving for America. Must be so cool." He hears his classmates gush and widens his eyes.

You were leaving?

When the end of school bell rings, he quickly gathers his things and rush to the exit.

"Hey! We have practice!" He hears Osamu call out but keeps on moving.

"Tell Kita-san there's an emergency and I can't make it." He doesn't wait for a reply.

He hurries to your house, tie loose as he finally makes it to your street. He feels his chest tighten at the moving truck stationed outside your gates.

He sees you holding a box and rushes over to you. You almost dropped the box from his approach.

"Suna? What are you doing here?"

He pulls you into a tight embrace, hand buried in your hair as you feels his heart beat.

"Don't go. Please, I don't want you to go..." you break away from the hug and he tenses at your confused face.

"What?" You question and he runs his hand through this hair.

"I love you. I know I don't show it but I do. I think I've always loved you but I guess I didn't want to change our friendship..please don't go. I need you." He confesses in quick breath and this time you do drop the box.

"Rin-" you jump into his chest, wrapping your arms around him, hiding your face as you let out a little sniffle.

"I love you too. I've been in love with you for a while now." You look up to him and although the smiles, his eyes still hold a worried look.

"So you won't leave?"

"No? Why would I leave?" He motions to the box of belonging and van.

"Oh, I'm just helping my aunt move some of her stuff she kept here. She's leaving for America soon, so I've been busy and couldn't be at school." He rubs his palm over his face, chuckling from your answer.

"I really rushed here thinking I would never see you again."

"Sorry but you don't get that pleasure." You poke at his cheek, giggling, only to be silence as he places his lips on yours.

Bokuto

You're basically his number one fan. Always attending matches, staying after school for practice and just being his support. He adored you for it. Always calling on you to watch him spike, complimenting how his jersey looks good on you and how well you get along with the team.

What you wished he would realise was how in love you are with him. You've known him for a long time and of course you cheered for him as his friend but all the extra bits were efforts to show him he meant more to you. How could you not fall for him? He was beautiful, passionate, kind and enthusiastic. The way his eyes would light up when he touch a volleyball. How his laugh could lift the mood in the room, make you forget your problems and just let his laugh make its way into your heart. He just made everyone so comfortable and this gained him a lot of admirers. You would watch the way he behaved with potential dates, treating them kindly and laughing with them. He could have anyone he wanted. And with that thought your heart silently broke at the fact he probably doesn't feel anything towards you.

He immediately notices your absence. Scanning the school for your face, texting you multiple times for your whereabouts. Although your messages were short, he was content with the replies. Letting you get on with whatever was keeping you busy. But then you didn't come in the next day. He scanned everywhere again with no luck.

"Y/n...America....going tomorrow." He stood frozen at the door of your classroom, eyes widen hearing that you're m leaving the country.

Somehow gets permission to go out for lunch. He runs to your house, growing more and more upset that you're leaving him. Yells out your name when he sees you.

"Y/n, why are you leaving me? You can't just go! Why didn't you tell me that you're leaving me and going somewhere else? I love you too much!" He pants, arms pulling you into a tight hug.

"What did you say, Bo?" You whisper, head hoping you heard wrong so you could carry on pretending.

"I love you so much. More than a friend. I love you, don't leave me.." his voice strains and you gasp.

"I'm not going anywhere.," you finally say and you look up to see his eyes a little watery.

"But they said you're going to America tomorrow..."

"Nooo, I'm helping my cousin. They're going tomorrow and needed help. I'm not leaving you. I love you too.," you blush as you say the words out loud. His face immediately brightens, teeth on show as he smiles at you.

You pull his chin down and watch as he closes his mouth and eyes flutter shut. He smiles into the kiss, his warm lips finally on yours, pulling back you grin back at him.

Kuroo

What started as table partners in your chemistry lesson, quickly turned into best friend. From mocking his hair to cheering for the team he captains. You both got close really fast. He would wave at you at games, stick his tongue at you when he scored higher on exams and even tease you if his teammates flirted with you. He treated you like his friend. A close, always present, friend. But you started to feel more, you would look around in hopes of seeing him. Argue with him just to spend more time together and rolling your eyes at his fake collected demeanour when girls approached him. You loved him, loved his bad hair, stupid laugh and cunning brain.

You were so close to confessing until you heard him calling you just a good friend. Your throat tightened and in that moment, you chose to act like your feelings never existed. You would still tease and cheer for him, but not forcing any more contact you already had. You hoped the less time spent with him, the less hurt you'd feel.

He noticed, he might not seem very observant, but he noticed the way you would slightly pull away. How your mock fights would just be a little less intense, almost as if you were hesitating with your words. And then you stopped replying to him. All he wanted to know was if you were coming to the game tomorrow, sending you a quick message at night knowing you'll be awake. When he woke up, there was no reply. Hoping to catch you at school, he waits at your classroom. But you weren't there. He sent more messages, worried when you still wouldn't reply. Another day went by in the same way. He couldn't understand why you weren't replying to him. He almost walked into an opening door looking at his phone.

".Yeah, I went over to help Y/n pack a little, they're taking so many things for when they leave for America."

He felt his ears grow red, his grip on his phone tightening in the thought of you leaving. Is that why you've not been replying? But why? Why are you leaving and going away?

Cancels practice and hurries to your place. White shirt half tucked in as he obnoxiously knocks on your door. Your eyes widen as you see him panting on your doorstep.

"Why are you ignoring me? Why haven't you been at school or answering my messages?" You can hear the hurt in his voice.

"Why did you not tell-tell me you're leaving? You can't just go and not tell me, I thought we were close enough. I thought I still had time to tell you I'm in love with you. And you're just planning to leave with no explanation?!" A tear slips down his cheek, you quickly go to brush it away and he holds your wrist in place.

"Kuroo, I...I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry I haven't replied to you or been at school I've just been helping my relative with packing for when they move to America." You looks at your feet, cheeks burning as you speak.

"I'm in love with you too...for some time now. I thought you only saw me as a friend.." you yelp as he squeezes you in his arms, his breathing beginning to regulate.

"Yeah a friend who I'm very much in love with, who will hopefully become more than a friend." You pull away and giggle as he gives you a lopsided grin.

"You're so cute I could kiss you." You tease and he moves his face closer to yours.

"Go ahead." You shake your head, pursing your lips as you bring them to his, his hand cupping your jaw to bring you closer.

Iwaizumi

If there's one thing you grateful for by being partners with Oikawa, it was being able to meet Iwaizumi too. You two quickly became friends in mocking Oikawa, a friendship bonded over your mutual annoyance. Suddenly you've become a trio, hanging around in school, meeting after school for training and going over to their house to do homework. It just felt right. And although Oikawa was pretty, you couldn't help but have a crush on Iwaizumi. He was respectful, nature, kind and adorable when he smiled. You love how his presence could almost control a room. His invisible authority was admirable. When training went late he would always drop you off after Oikawa. Asking how your day was, making sure you were okay and safe. You found the time alone with him made your crush go deeper. You couldn't help but think about him before you slept and after you've woken up. Your blush harder to hide when ever he bumped shoulders with you.

You almost hated having a crush on him. Knowing he just sees you as a friend. Pain in your gut at the thought of him rejecting you if you confessed.

When he didn't see you at the school, he was concerned. Asking Oikawa if he knew your whereabouts before calling you. When you didn't reply, he sent you a quick message but you don't respond. He was growing impatient. Your absence was making him restless. He missed you. Your laugh, the way you narrowed your eyes when you studied and how comfortable he felt around you.

"Iwa-chan!" He rolls his eyes.

"What do you want shittykawa?"

"Hey! Don't be rude. But listen, I heard someone say that Y/n is moving to the states!" He feels his stomach tense.

"What? When?"

"Yeah, apparently the flight is-" he doesn't stay for the rest.

He runs to your house, his backpack barely on as he runs through the crowds. Knocks on your door and waits. Bow to your parents from letting him in and quickly makes his way to you room, the door is open and his heart drops at the box filled with belongings on your floor.

"Iwaizumi? What are you doing here?"

"Are you leaving?"

"What?"

"Are you leaving for America? Please say you're not and Oikawa is lying and that you're not actually going away. Y/n, I like you a lot, so much, you can't leave...I was going to ask you out and take you on a date and get you food and-" you cut him off with a kiss.

He face is full of shock when you pull away, you sheepishly smile at him and he blushes. You grab one of his hand and caress it.

"I'm not the one going to America, one of my relatives is going so I'm helping them. See, this is some stuff they're giving me." You point to the box and he lefts out a sigh of relief.

"I'm going to kill trashykawa." He groans and you let out a laugh.

"So um...you don't have to like me back or anything.." he says lowly.

"Iwa, I like you too. And I'll love to go on a date with you." He looks up and smiles at you, bringing you hand to his lips, placing a little kiss on your skin.

[vulpixen]

Who Are You?

A/N: I was stumped with what to do for the prompt Identity until I suddenly found the inspiration to write this fic that depicts an au of mine called Lost and Gained. Which includes ocs of mine such those from OBWHF and new ones for the Pines family such as Andrea Pereira, wife of Stan and mother of James, Jessie and additional kid Leroy. Lucina Evergreen, wife of Ford and Fiddleford and mother of Tate and Shiloh and later Shauna and Shannon. But enjoy what I wrote here for @stanuary 

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“Who are you?” A young boy Stan asked his reflection in the bathroom mirror, flashing a bright grin on his face after finishing brushing his teeth. “I’m Stanley Pines! King of New Jersey! This guy is gonna go sailing one day with his brother!” He pointed at himself with bright confidence and pride. “And Andy if she wants to…” Stan muttered under his breath with his cheeks blushing.

“Stanley, are you done in there?” asked Ford after knocking on the closed door. 

“Coming out!”

A teenage Stan saw himself in the bathroom mirror while grooming his hair and fixing up his pink suit in preparation for prom he’ll attend with his brother, and their respective dates. Stan smugly grinned at his image. “Who are you? Stan freaking Pines! This guy’s gonna take his best gal to the prom. And then we’re going to see a show after. Hell yeah. Tch. Tch.” Stan finger gunned back at his reflection before the sound of knocking was heard on the other side of the door. “Alright, alright. Yeesh.”

“Who are you?” Stan nervously asked his reflection inside the bathroom mirror at home. “Stan Pines… who's going to be a dad, while still in high school. You really did it now, Stan.” He smiled a little after taking time to compose himself. “At least Andy still loves you, you still love her, and her parents and brother don’t hate you after we told them. I’m gonna take responsibility. But I can’t tell my family… they’ll be less than thrilled. Except Sixer, I can trust him with anything.” Stan took a deep breath and left the bathroom.

Stan rubbed his tired, puffy red eyes in front of the Pereira family’s bathroom mirror to clean himself up. “Who are you?” Stan paused and choked up tears. “The knucklehead who ruined his brother’s science fair project, costing him that chance to get into the stupid college he wanted to be in, and got kicked out by Pops because of it.” He sniffled and wiped his runny nose. “Fuck… I can’t do anything right.”

“It’s going to be okay, Stan…” Andy said on the other side of the door. “I – we’re here for you.”

“I – thank you, lass.”

“Who are you?” Stan adjusted the striped tie of his cleaned shirt in front of the bathroom mirror of his, his wife and children’s apartment they’re renting in Florida. “Stan Pines. A husband, father of three gremlins, comic book writer and artist. Not too bad, I admit. Can do better. One day. Andy got her marine biology degree, and she’s hoping to find a job. Knowing Florida, it’ll be easy as pumpkin pie!”

“Dad! Dad! Dad!” cried out the three kids James, Jessie and Leroy approaching the bathroom door. 

“You got a postcard!”

“Alright, I’ll come read it. Be right out.”

“Who are you?” Stan asked his reflection in the bathroom mirror of his brother Ford’s home. Behind Stan, his wife Andrea or Andy as most called her, stood behind him to treat the burn mark on the back of his right shoulder he sustained from physically fighting his brother before he ended up through the portal. The burn stung his back something fierce when Andy began to apply the ointment against his skin.

“You’re the guy who’s going to get his brother back.” Andy answered for Stan, doing her best to keep her emotions under control. “I still can’t believe what happened. His wife disappeared. His husband up and left. His sons were left in another person’s care… we have to do something.”

“We will. I think we can handle two more kids under our care. Tate and Shiloh need their family right now more than anything.” Stan gently touched his wife’s hand behind him. “And I know I’ll need your help.” Andy gingerly kissed his cheek. 

“With you every step of the way, Stan.”

“Who are you?” Stan asked his image in the mirror of his and Andy’s bedroom now that they’ve taken ownership of the house that once belonged to Ford. “Stan Pines, owner of the Mystery Shack! People around here sure love a good tourist trap, let me tell you handsome devil. And with Andy working as a Lake Ranger at the lake, perfect for discounts for fishing supplies. The kids seem to love this town. Tate and Shiloh need time… but I’ll do my best as their uncle to get them through this. At least their other dad Fiddleford will be around once he’s mentally well enough to be involved with his kids again.” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s been a long year since then. I hope I can make this all work. I hope I can get my brother back as soon as possible. Ugh, enough of me rambling.” Stan put on the fez hat as the final part of his outfit and left the room. 

“Who are you?” Stan wiped away his happy tears in asking his reflection in his bedroom mirror. “Grandpa Stan Pines, that’s who! My first granddaughter was born today! Her name is Tanya and she is the cutest! I have a feeling me and Andy will be anticipating more grandkids running around here when they start actually running, so I'm gonna look forward to planning more space around here. If they’ll be anything like their parents, this is gonna be chaotic.” Stan let out a content sigh and headed downstairs. 

“Who are you?” Stan demanded his reflection in the mirror. “Stanley Pines. The brother Stanford should be thanking me and Andy for getting not only him out of that stupid portal, but his wife, and apparently their twin teenage daughters they had while in there.” He was angry after his heated argument with his twin brother. At least their respective wives interfered and stopped the two brothers from physically fighting each other before it got worse. “I thought… I thought things would be fixed, but I don’t know if it can be.” Stan looked at himself with determination. “I guess I can try talking. Oof. I’m not looking forward to that.”

Stan let out a big breath. “Who are you? Me? Guess who became a Grunkle in the past couple of years? This guy!” Stan jovially thumbed at himself. “Which makes Andy a Grandy. Ha! Tate and his wife had their son Isaac. Shiloh and his wife had their daughter Hazel. Finally, Shermie got his grandkids Mason and Mabel born a couple days ago. Ford and I wouldn't willingly give the twins up to Shermie. God, I miss those twins already.” Andy laughed in the background. 

“It was a wonderful time. And that has a nice ring to it. Grandy….”

Stan approached the mirror of his and Andy’s bedroom. He had one question that came to mind, remembering the one thing he would always ask and have an answer. “Who are you? Me? Um… I’m Stanley, I think. Stanley Pines. Yeah, that sounds about right from what everyone keeps telling me. It’s coming back to me.” Stan rubbed at his head, memories of his past, his whole life he spent with his family, and the last moments before it was almost all wiped out of his mind were slowly but surely coming back thanks to his family’s diligent efforts to bring him back.

“Who are you?” Stan would ask his reflection in the mirror onboard the Stan O’ War. Ford would walk from behind and stand next to him. 

“I think you know the answer.” 

Stan and Ford exchanged smiles at each other before going back on deck to start their adventure out at sea like they’ve always dreamed of doing when they were young.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Thirteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: merry christmas

***

Nesta and Cassian agree to take separate cars to Velaris— not because they’re so afraid of being discovered together that they’ll risk global warming, but because Nesta has a preceding event and tells Cassian not to wait up for her.

After a rushed Secret Santa with the boys at Emerie’s apartment, Nesta drops by Gwyn’s place and leaves a small parcel at the doorstep. She doesn’t have time to knock and make conversation, but the gift is the least she can do after Gwyn surprised her the other day with a copy of a highly anticipated romance book weeks ahead of its official release.

“The library got early copies and I borrowed this one for you,” she said out of nowhere one afternoon, handing her the book. Nesta blinked in shock, not realizing that she and Gwyn were close enough for such acts of kindness. Even if their conversations felt like they’d been friends for much longer, they’d only known each other for a couple of weeks. It was then that she realized that’s just how Gwyn is. She does nice things because she can, not because social bonds or etiquette compels her to.

Guilt isn’t something Nesta feels often, but she was ravaged by it when she thought of not repaying Gwyn’s kindness. She couldn’t bear the idea of imbalances or debts being created in her relationships with her new friends, and spent the last two days searching everywhere for a decent gift to make up for it. She’ll have to text to make sure Gwyn got her present later tonight.

After a two hour drive (she might have taken detours to stall), Nesta is in the hallway leading to Feyre and Rhysand’s penthouse apartment. The door is cracked open enough that laughter and music float out to where she stands, and her fingers tighten on the bag carrying her sisters’ gifts. She checks her makeup in the hall mirror one final time, assuring that not a smidge of her perfect armor is out of place.

An in-and-out operation, she tells herself, flicking a lock of hair away from her face. She’s prepared for this.

Walking up to the half-open door, she’s struck down by the decision of whether to knock before going in or not. Luckily, the choice is taken away from her when the door swings open on its own, and Feyre is on the other side.

“Nesta,” her sister says in surprise, in a good or bad way Nesta doesn’t know.

Nesta blinks. “Did you know I was here?” She gestures to the door.

“Oh, no...” Feyre pokes her head past Nesta into the hallway. “Actually, I was checking to see if the pizza guy was here yet,” —she looks back at Nesta— “but this is even better!”

The slight strain in her voice makes Nesta think otherwise.

She doesn’t play along with the game. She doesn’t even comment on how they’re having pizza on Christmas Eve. Feyre adds after a moment, genuinely this time, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Nesta glances down at her dress, a skintight ruched piece that shows more chest than usual, and then back up at Feyre’s designer jumpsuit. “So do you,” she says, her voice more flat than she’d prefer it. But she means it. “Can I come in?” she gestures inside, hoping to put an end to this conversation and her nerves.

“Right, duh,” Feyre laughs, grabbing Nesta’s gift bag and waving her inside. “Elain’s in the kitchen if you want to see her. Grab a drink and make yourself comfortable.”

Nesta steps past the door cautiously, eyeing the penthouse as if it’s her first time here. The winding iron-railed staircase is to the right, leading up to the second floor which holds all the bedrooms. The living area sprawls to her left, and through a wood-paneled threshold across from her is the dining room and kitchen. If anything is different from the last time she visited, it’s that the place is now considerably more lived in: pictures, hand-picked art, and other signs of life and love decorate every inch of the apartment, to the point where it makes Nesta feel like a home invader.

She’s so busy absorbing this place she doesn’t belong in that it takes her a moment to realize the room has fallen silent.

She turns to the living area, and her eyes land on Cassian first. He went so far as to put on a suit for tonight, and he’s watching her with a stunned quietness that makes her proud of her own outfit choice.

Nesta knows there are other people in the room, but she really can’t bring herself to care. Her hands twitch at her sides, instinctively reaching for him—

“Look who finally decided to show up,” a smug voice drawls.

Nesta looks away from Cassian to find that just about everybody else is staring at her, too. The voice who spoke up is that tiny woman named Amren, and she’s watching Nesta now with a sharp glint in her gray eyes.

Slick discomfort coats Nesta’s insides at Amren’s tone, and she lets her hands fall behind her back so they can’t reveal her anxiety. “Merry Christmas, everyone,” are the first words out of her mouth.

“’Sup, Nesta,” Cassian is the only one that bothers to respond. His tone holds none of the closeness or intimacy it usually does— it’s been replaced with a removed, almost strained friendliness instead.

Remembering that seeking him out for comfort is not an option tonight, she tries to find somewhere else to look.

In the span of a second, she spies Mor’s curiosity, Rhysand’s vague distaste, and Varian’s hesitance, before finally settling on Azriel’s bland look of disinterest. His phone dangles lazily from his hand, and he looks about two seconds away from going back to it and ignoring her completely.

It’s his detachment that grounds Nesta enough to remember her words. “I’m going to…” she gestures vaguely toward the kitchen, “get some food.”

“I can help—” Feyre starts.

“No, thank you,” Nesta quips, then hightails it out of there. The conversation, along with Nesta’s heartbeat, restarts as soon as she’s out of the room.

Following the short hallway connecting the dining space to the huge kitchen, she freezes when she finds Elain standing before the dual range oven, staring intently down at her phone. She curses herself silently— how did she forget her other sister would be waiting here right after being told so?

Elain’s head snaps up at the sound of Nesta’s heels on the tile, looking flustered. She quickly tucks her phone into the pocket of her apron before she realizes who she’s looking at, and a wide smile overtakes her beautiful face. “Is that really you?” Elain marvels in her lilting southern accent.

The words hit Nesta bluntly for some inexplicable reason. She shakes it off with a blink and smiles back, far more subdued than Elain but still genuine. “Lain,” she greets kindly, like they’re two old friends picking up right where they left off.

It’s Nesta’s fault that things are like this, she knows. She hasn’t bothered holding a real conversation with her closest sister in months, and now she’s in the same room as her hoping she won’t have to face Elain’s disappointment for her distance.

“Oh, get over here, how’ve you been?” Elain crosses the sleek kitchen and waves her into a hug. Nesta awkwardly pats her back, and is held even tighter when she tries pulling away.

She only manages to detach from Elain when Elain’s apron pocket vibrates. Stepping back, she takes her phone out and silences it before tucking it away once more. “So,” she grins when her focus returns to Nesta, “how’s the lone wolf life treating you? Isn’t it great to be back at your old apartment?”

“It’s good. I’m doing good,” she nods along. Nesta hates small talk more than anything, but this is the least she owes Elain. And the least she owes herself, if she’s being honest. Even if she knows she will never truly be fit for a life of socialization.

She takes things a step further and nods to the oven, asking, “What are you cooking up?”

She knows she’s done something right when Elain’s dark eyes light up, and she starts rattling off the three-course menu she’s prepared for tonight. (“What about the pizza on the way?” Nesta asks. Elain’s face darkens. “Don’t get me started. Some of the people in that living room have the taste palate of five year olds.”)

Nesta takes a seat at the island and falls into the age-old rhythm of listening to her sister talk, her heart feeling bruised and soothed at the same time. How similar and different they are now from the people they were ten years ago. Nesta doesn’t know if this is a good thing or not.

***

“That’s the thirtieth time you’ve checked your phone since Mor started telling her dolphin story,” Cassian mutters to Azriel sitting next to him on the couch.

Az clicks his phone off and turns it facedown so Cassian can’t see the screen, his face remaining blank the entire time. “I can’t help it if I’ve heard the dolphin story a hundred times already.”

“You’ve been staring at that thing the entire night,” Cassian calls him out. “Anyone on there more interesting than us, dear brother?”

Az snorts, not bothering to look at him. “Like you’re one to talk.” He reaches for his glass of liquor on the side table.

Cassian frowns as the chatter drowns out his murmur. “What do you mean?”

Azriel takes a sip from his drink, not replying. “When do you plan on letting us back at your cabin?” he says instead.

Cassian snorts. “It’s not like I’ve been keeping you away from it.”

“You turned Rhys and me down every time we made plans about coming over.”

“Because Nesta was staying there.” He is very, very careful about the way he says her name. Even talking about her is walking a thin line.

“She moved out a while ago, though,” Azriel continues. He leans back into the couch. “Speaking of Nesta, I don’t remember her being that hot. Did you see her in that little dress tonight?”

Cassian tenses, dull anger sliding over his bones and under his skin. “We all fucking saw her,” he says tightly.

Az clicks his tongue. “Damn. A woman like that shouldn’t be wasted in a small town.” His eyes slide over to Cassian’s with a dark glint of amusement. “You mind sharing?”

In that moment, Cassian is presented with the option of punching Azriel in the face. Hard. It’s only due to a divine miracle that he doesn’t.

Even with his temper, Cassian knows when he’s being played with. “How did you know.” His voice is flat, cold.

“You have ‘Nesta’s bitch’ written all over your face.”

Goddammit. Cassian clenches his teeth, saying nothing. Can everyone see it, or only his closest brother? How long has he known?

“I had my suspicions,” Az says simply, “when you ran out of Thanksgiving dinner like your ass was on fire after she sent you that thirst trap.”

Cassian blinks. Of course; the bastard peeked at his phone the last time they were together. No reason other than that.

“It wasn’t a thirst trap,” he grits, on high defense now. “It was a perfectly appropriate photo that you never should have seen.”

Az’s lips twitch upward. “Could’ve fooled me with the way you reacted to it.”

This— this is exactly why he doesn’t want anybody to know about him and Nesta. Because even though a weight has been lifted off his chest with Azriel knowing, an even heavier weight has started to sink in his stomach.

For months, Nesta has been his alone. And the idea of opening their relationship up to others’ opinions and judgements...

“Cass?”

He breaks his death glare at Azriel to find Feyre standing over the couch. He blinks; when did she cross the room? “Yeah?”

“You okay?” She glances between him and Azriel, clear-cut concern in her eyes. “You’ve been a little out of it tonight.” These last several weeks, actually, he knows she’s thinking.

He pulls his best Nesta face, all emotion carefully hidden behind a wall so blank it’s almost dead. “I’m doing fine,” he says simply. “Don’t worry about me; worry about Rhys spending all of your money on cards tonight.”

When Feyre still looks hesitant, Cassian summons his signature smile, the one that puts everyone and their babies at ease. He knows he’s succeeded when Feyre’s shoulders sink and she smiles back, nudging him in the arm. “Alright,” she says begrudgingly. “Just don’t keep pulling that long face. It’s Christmas Eve.”

***

Nesta is still hiding out in the kitchen while Elain finishes up a roast chicken when Feyre wanders in, eager to play the doting host.

Nesta pauses in the middle of telling Elain what she got earlier today for Secret Santa, waiting for Feyre to interrupt or insert her opinion, but Feyre only leans against the kitchen entrance and waits for her to go on.

“... So I thought it was hideous, but she insisted I keep it,” Nesta finishes cautiously.

“Who insisted you keep what?” Feyre speaks up.

“My friend Emerie got me a Christmas sweater.” Nesta waves a hand. “It looks like it came out of the recycling bin of a thrift shop, but I think she legitimately expects me to wear it tomorrow.” She huffs a lighthearted laugh, remembering how she and Emerie had cackled over the tacky gift together.

She finds she doesn’t mind talking about Emerie to her sisters. Rather, it’s something that brings her pride, like how she imagines new parents talk about their babies.

“Ain’t that amazing?” Elain speaks from where she arranges the chicken onto a platter, her back turned to both sisters. “While we were worried this whole time about Nesta being holed up in her room, she’s been going out and making friends.” Her voice is tight with a forced cheerfulness that only their mother could have taught her. Nesta stiffens in her seat at the island.

“Oh,” Feyre says shortly, blinking. “I see.”

The easiness Nesta had from talking about her friends slips away, being replaced with her usual mask of steel and ice. “See what?”

“Nothing,” Feyre defends, moving to lean against the island across from her. “We barely ever speak anymore, Nesta. How are we supposed to know what goes on in your life these days?”

“Well, I’m telling you now,” Nesta says coldly.

“She’s also in therapy.” Elain still hasn’t turned around from the stove. “How exciting.”

Nesta whips her head toward Elain in disbelief at the information spilled. So she is angry at Nesta for avoiding her calls.

“Therapy?” Feyre looks taken aback. “For what?”

Elain swoops in before Nesta can choose between scoffing or rolling her eyes at Feyre’s question. “Who cares what it’s for?” She finally turns around, bracing her hands on the counter. “Does it even matter?”

Nesta tastes venom on her tongue, and it wants to be spit in her sisters’ direction. “If you have something you want to say, Elain, say it. The passive-aggressive act makes you look like a fake bitch.”

Elain flinches, and Feyre looks away to hide her tired disappointment. “We still can’t have a single conversation without you going from zero to a hundred, I see.”

You haven’t even seen a hundred yet. “Tell me,” Nesta demands. “What did I do to mortally wound you this time? Is it the fact that I have a life away from your incestuous circle, or am I missing something else?”

Feyre scoffs incredulously, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s the fact, Nesta, that you have it in yourself to be good to everyone except for your sisters! When it was just me you hated, I could accept it fine, but then you left Tennessee and shut Elain out, too. With no explanation.” Hurt dances across her face. “It’s been years and it’s only gotten worse. And after months of near silence you show up here like—like you would rather be part of any family except ours.”

She keeps saying we, like her and Elain’s feelings are one and the same. Like they’ve talked about this before.

Nesta crosses her arms. “So you are mad I have friends.”

“How is that your takeaway from this?” Feyre has to struggle to keep her voice down.

Nesta’s heated eyes cut to Elain, who’s been silent during this whole exchange. “And you agree with her? Or is there something else you’d like to add?”

Elain opens her mouth to respond, but Nesta doesn’t give her the chance. “If I haven’t changed, then neither have you two,” she seethes. “You still think this is the fucking Disney channel or something, where we’re all best friends who have sisterly sleepovers and text each other good night. Wake the fuck up,” she bares her teeth. “Stop expecting things from me and just be happy I’m alive and doing well— because that’s the bare minimum that I’ve always given you!”

But no matter what Nesta says or does, they will never understand her. She will never be enough for them. The realization sinks in with a rattling finality at the resigned look on Feyre and Elain’s faces: like they didn’t hear a word she said. Nesta wonders when they stopped listening.

A throat clears behind her, and she whirls to see Feyre’s boyfriend at the doorway. His pretty-boy face is drawn tight, barely hidden rage simmering in the violet of his eyes. “Pizza’s here,” he says curtly.

Elain blinks tears out of her eyes, spinning back to the counter to pick up the platter of chicken. “Of course,” she says quickly, “the rest of the food is ready too.”

Feyre leaves the kitchen first, then Elain, then Rhysand with a final deadly glare at Nesta.

Nesta doesn’t know how long she stands there in the same spot, unmoving. Only when her phone buzzes from the island countertop does she turn.

Gwyn: did u get me a vibrator for christmas???

***

Cassian hasn’t looked at her all night.

Nesta doesn’t know what she expected when she told him they couldn’t be together in public, but it wasn’t this: him, laughing and talking with everybody at the table save for her. Like she isn’t even sitting there.

Nothing has changed. Least of all her.

She swallows around a mouthful of dry meat, feeling herself slip back into that old, familiar role: the background character. Except tonight is different, because everyone saw Elain’s watery eyes and Rhysand’s furious stare when they left the kitchen, and now Nesta is being ignored on purpose.

The buzzing in her head is louder than any conversation going on at the table anyway. Whether her sisters would believe her or not, Nesta had made plans. Plans to call more often, to make amends for the years of radio silence, to reintroduce herself to Feyre and Elain as a better sister. Not now, but one day— when she finally learned how.

Plans that were all dashed in the span of one conversation. Her knuckles turn bone white around her fork. So much for getting better.

The longer the night goes on, the more hurt and rage swells in her chest, until she fears she can’t say a word without screaming. How long will it be like this between her and her sisters, between her and the world? As if Nesta owes them all one thing or another: her time, her energy, her best smile and her affections. Why does everything have to be an exchange, and why is she always the one giving something up?

Cassian is the one person who always let her be, adjusting to her whenever she couldn’t adjust to him. But she’s having trouble remembering that fact when he won’t even spare a glance her way. When he’s sitting there laughing with Mor in a way he never laughs with her.

“And what about you, girl?”

Amren’s voice drags Nesta out of her haze, and she realizes the woman is speaking to her.

Nesta doesn’t like the way Amren speaks— with barely hidden cruelty, like she takes joy in watching people squirm.

Nesta blinks. “What?”

A slow smile creeps up Amren’s red mouth. “I said,” she repeats, “are you finding the pay for your work at Night Court sufficient?”

“Amren,” Cassian starts, but Nesta is already on her feet. The table falls silent.

“I have to...” she mumbles unintelligibly. She can’t come up with an excuse. Shaking her head, she leaves the table without finishing her sentence. Leaves the dining room and the whole damn apartment.

***

The slam of the door shutting echoes through the penthouse. No one speaks for a long moment, and Cassian finds himself filling the silence: “Was that necessary, Amren?”

Amren sneers. “What did I do?”

Because he’s counting down the seconds until it’s acceptable to go after Nesta, Cassian indulges her. “Not everyone has it in them to play Mean Girls with you whenever you feel like it.”

“Yeah, but did she have to ruin dinner over it?” Mor snorts, reaching over and plucking a roasted Brussels sprout from Nesta’s nearly untouched plate.

Feyre stands up. “I’ll go after her—”

“Don’t bother,” Cassian says, earning a raised brow from Azriel. Elain looks inclined to agree with Cassian until he adds, “I’ll check on her. You don’t need to stress, Feyre.” With a reassuring smile, he pushes out of his seat and heads for the door.

Each casual step toward Nesta lasts a million years, but he finally reaches the hallway beyond the apartment, letting his facade drop in the same breath that the door shuts behind him. Relief wracks his body when he finds Nesta waiting for the elevator, still here.

“Nes,” he calls, hurrying after her.

She punches the elevator button repeatedly, as if that’ll get it to hurry up. He catches up to her and takes hold of her hand, turning her around—

She snatches her wrist out of his grip like she’s been burned, her fingers flexing with pent up emotion. “Not tonight, Cassian.”

“I’ll go home with you, you can tell me what’s wrong—”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?” he demands. She never shuts him out like this.

Nesta stares intently at the elevator doors. “Go back to forgetting I exist.” Her voice is flat.

He scoffs in disbelief. “You’re not serious—”

She whirls on him so quickly he almost stumbles back in surprise. “You didn’t look at me once the entire night.”

Cassian stills, stunned. Is that what this is about? “How could I have?” he laughs, shaking his head. “You’re the one who doesn’t want anyone knowing about us!”

“So you pretend I’m not there at all?” Hurt flares beneath her angered words.

“I can’t do both.” He fights to keep his voice low, aware of the thin walls. “I can’t look at you and not have everyone see what I feel for you— you’re all over me.” Even Azriel sees it, for God’s sake.

“What’s the truth, then?” she hisses. “Are you a terrible actor or a great one? Because in that apartment I forgot we were even in a relationship.”

“You walked in looking like that,” he gestures wildly at the black sheer mesh hugging her body, “and I was supposed to, what? Act like we were friends?” He hasn’t spent all night nearly losing his mind trying to fulfill Nesta’s wishes, trying not to let his feelings show, to get dragged through the mud for it.

“Is that your best excuse?” Nesta sneers. “I used to be too boring to spare a glance, and now I’m too sexy?” She steps closer to him, bringing them chest to chest. “We were good distractions for each other in your lonely little cabin, but deep down you know we wouldn’t last a day in the real world. That’s why we haven’t told anybody, Cassian.”

Cassian knows a spiral when he sees one, and he’s fighting not to get dragged into Nesta’s. “I know this isn’t about me.” He closes his eyes, praying for calm. “It’s about whatever happened with Feyre and Elain tonight.”

Which is the wrong thing to say, from the way Nesta’s face reddens. “Don’t even fucking go there.”

He doesn’t realize that the elevator has dinged open until Nesta reaches out her arm to stop the doors from closing. “You know nothing about me,” she says heatedly. “You were sad and desperate for acknowledgement when we first met, and you’re the same way now. You haven’t. Learned. Anything.”

Cassian almost wishes she would scream senseless things at him like she used to do whenever she was upset— because this refined wrath of hers is so much more hurtful. And it makes him angry, too.

He leans in until his nose is brushing hers. “If this is one of those things where you try to push me away by being cruel, I’m not fucking buying it.”

Like a switch is flipped, the flame in Nesta’s eyes flares out. He sees that dead nothingness and knows he’s lost. “You don’t have to buy it,” she says simply. She steps onto the waiting elevator, and he doesn’t try stopping her. She doesn’t want to be stopped.

Nesta gives him a final look before the doors shut between them. “And I wore this dress for you, asshole.”

Cassian stands there long after she’s gone. Not knowing what to do next.

A muffled laugh breaks through to him from the other side of the walls, and he realizes that everyone has moved back into the living room. Turning around, he goes back inside to his friends.

***

;)

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[bookofmirth]

Hello! This is a bit different from your usual gwynriel/elucien asks, so I hope you don’t mind, but it’s something that’s been bothering me lately and I wonder if anyone else has noticed.

I’m not sure if it’s because if the upsurge in popularity of acotar on tiktok/twitter with a younger audience reading it, or if I’ve just been lucky and not noticed it before, but I’ve seen so many Tamlin stans coming out of the woodwork and it honestly bothers me.

I definitely do agree that Tamlin is a complex character and of course, it’s fine that people are interested in him (I really don’t care about him, but to each their own)! But lately there have been so many people in the fandom arguing that he’s a victim of PTSD who deserves better, often villainizing Feyre/Lucien because of this.

I‘ve seen takes that Feyre was gaslighting Tamlin when she told him she was happy with Rhys because Rhys still had the whole night court persona going on?? And that Lucien and Feyre were a horrible support system because they wouldn’t stand up to him (completely ignoring that when they did Tamlin … ya know … physically hurt both of them)? And that somehow Feyre spying in the Spring Court in ACOWAR was also abusive and manipulative towards Tamlin?

I just genuinely don’t understand where all of this is coming from. I try to be critical of SJM’s writing because I understand that it can be flawed, especially since I have problems with how Feysand was written after ACOWAR, Azriel’s issues with women, the IC’s treatment of Nesta, etc. But I just can’t seem to get behind these interpretations and I’m not sure if I’m just missing something (or ‘biased’ by Feyre’s POV as some claim).

Wooooooo boy, so I didn't know that this was a thing happening but lemme break down how wrong these people are with some of these arguments! This is going to get long.

(I definitely don't mind, I appreciate any ask that's not just about ship wars!)

So I'm going to lay out the claims people are making and talk about them one at a time.

Tamlin has PTSD:

Probably yes. In the beginning of acomaf, Feyre mentions that he has trouble sleeping, just like she does, and I believe he gets up at night, and this is when their relationship really deteriorates. I can't say for sure what he was experiencing, but it seems like he had a lot of anxiety and fears left over from Amarantha and watching Feyre die. The things he was experiencing emotionally are 1000% understandable and valid, even if it wasn't diagnosable PTSD.

But you know who else likely has PTSD? Lucien and Feyre.

Say it with me everyone: emotions do not always justify behaviors.

Feyre is gaslighting Tamlin:

Hell fucking no.

People need to learn what gaslighting is. Gaslighting is not just "lying". Gaslighting is not "disagreeing". Gaslighting is a very specific tactic used to make someone question their memory, their reality, to twist the truth.

Rhys definitely had a persona. That was a calculated decision. But when Feyre tells Tamlin that she is happy, she is not lying at all. Her telling Tamlin that she is happy has nothing to do with whatever lies or manipulations that Rhys did in the past. Why? Because even if Rhys was a super asshole dark dude, Feyre saying she is happy with him is still the truth. Feyre isn't lying, let alone gaslighting Tamlin, that idea is completely laughable.

The only way that people could say that Feyre is gaslighting Tamlin is to say that she is responsible for Rhysand's Dark persona, that she is the one who created it with the intention of making people question what they thought was true. Which she isn't. That isn't even the reason that Rhys created the persona. He created it to obscure the truth in the first place.

And even his persona isn't gaslighting? He isn't trying to make people question their reality. He isn't trying to make people question themselves. He is trying to make himself look scary. And so when he drops that persona, he is telling the truth. He isn't gaslighting people, he is saying "hey I wasn't being honest before but now I am".

And i think that's a big, big difference that people are failing to understand. Gaslighting is about trying to change other people's reality. Rhys's persona was about him. Feyre saying she was happy was about her. Neither of those things were about trying to make people feel like they were crazy.

So there has to be this reality. Let's say Rhys was spotted being menacing. Person A is like "hey, you look scary!" And he's like "noice, my evil plan is working." Then later on Rhys is like "hey you know what, I wasn't being honest before, I'm actually a Super Cool Dude." Person A might be confused for a minute because what they thought was true wasn't true, but they'll get there.

If it were gaslighting, on the other hand, it would go more like: Rhys: *is nice*. Person A: "hey, I thought you were scary though?" Rhys: "nah, that was my good twin, Rhysnaldo. I've never been nice a day in my life. You must be confused." Person A: *questioning everything they thought they just witnessed".

So yeah anyway, people gotta stop using that term if they don't know what it means.

Feyre manipulating Tamlin:

Personally, I agree with the argument that she manipulated Tamlin in the beginning of acowar. I don't think that's even a matter of interpretation, she went to Spring with the intention of burning shit down.

Feyre was not abusive towards Tamlin. She knew his weaknesses and exploited them. I don't care that she did that to him, I think that she deserved a bit of vengeance. However, personally I cannot stand the fact that in doing so she caused a lot of collateral damage and did not gaf. Deal with your abusive ex however you need to, Feyre. Don't knowingly, intentionally bring harm to other people in doing so.

Feyre and Lucien failing as a support system:

NO.

Feyre literally saved Tamlin's life by killing and dying for him. Lucien was also tortured by Amarantha because of Tamlin. Neither of them broke and betrayed him. They were incredibly loyal to him throughout acotar. Even now, when Lucien is being emotionally and physically abused by Tamlin, Lucien is still trying to work with him, make sure he is fed, make sure he doesn't completely lose his humanity fae-ness. Lucien is the only reason that the Spring Court hasn't completely collapsed while Tamlin wallows in his beasty feelings.

Any time that either Feyre or Lucien try to stand up to Tamlin, he gets manipulative and abusive. He emotionally manipulates Feyre into feeling guilty for wanting to be able to defend herself. He emotionally abuses Feyre by making her afraid of his anger and afraid of how he will react to anything that she says or does. He glares or shouts down anything the Lucien says.

Also, Tamlin is a High Lord! They can only do so much when it comes to standing up to him.

For real, Feyre and Lucien did literally everything that they possibly could in order to try to support Tamlin, and much of that was to their own detriment. In trying to support Tamlin, they got emotional and physical abuse in return. So no, fuck that. Being supportive does not mean we have to put up with abuse.

Being biased in Feyre's favor:

We are not biased by Feyre's POV in the sense that she is trying to mislead the reader, but we are limited by her POV because she doesn't know everything. She tells us the truth as she knows it. That is very different from a narrator who is intentionally trying to hide things or lie or mislead.

But even if we were biased by Feyre's POV, so fucking what??? Is it so wrong to take the side of a victim of abuse? Why do we need to try so hard to understand Tamlin's side? People can do that, of course, I have myself, especially later on in the story. In acofas I started to feel sorry for him. I've been mad at how Rhys treated him in acofas. But the idea of being biased in Feyre's favor means that we would have to question her, in some way, when she recounts the story of her abuse. That's disgusting, to me. What reason do we have to think she isn't telling her story truthfully?

We might naturally have more empathy towards Feyre because we heard the story from her POV, but again - why is that a bad thing? To hear a story from the victim of abuse and feel empathy for them??? Call me crazy but that's not a problem. I'm going to empathize with Feyre, and I'm going to believe Mor (and Rhys, and Lucien). The end.

A final word

Just something you said in the last paragraph struck me, in regards to Azriel's view of women and how the IC treats Nesta: those are not thing to criticize in sjm's writing, I think. Just because Tamlin is abusive doesn't mean that sjm shouldn't have written him that way, ya know? If there are inconsistencies in characterization or a lack of understanding of abusive dynamics or alcohol abuse or something like that, those are things we can criticize in her writing. But characters do uncomfy things, that's supposed to happen.

What I'm trying to say is that there is a difference between criticizing a character's actions, and criticizing the way they have been written. Pretty much everything above falls under the realm of "analyzing a character or story", not criticizing the author.

[talkfantasytome]

This got a little long, forgive me if this is tormenting you, but I really love to talk about this and I also loved your answers and would love to know your point of view on other parts of the story.

So, here I will show you my thoughts about what might happen in the next book with Azriel and also how I believe more people will know about Lucien and Helion in the next book. Let's go.

This is a thought of mine, but I think that probably in the next book more characters will learn that Lucien is Helion's son. I remember that either Rhys or Feyre said that they hadn't told anyone yet because it wasn't the time. I think that maybe something happens and in one of the meetings they have, in the search to find a solution to something Feysand can tell the IC, or something happens and Lucien unintentionally releases some power that makes other people suspicious. I think SJM is taking too long with this issue and it will get too rushed if she adds this only in the last book. Making a small comparison with TOG we saw as the books went by more and more characters knowing until they had the reunion between father and son.

I just don't know how this will be added in the story, because I believe the next book (using logic and the end of the book), will be about the Ilyrians vs Valkyries conflict, Ilyrians vs NC and the autumn court conflicts. Maybe Eris will use this to make Helion want to kill his father, we know he is looking for someone to kill him. As we know that Cassian and Rhys deal with Eris, I believe we will see less of him in this book as we saw in ACOSF but he will still appear in the Nightmare Court, on another hand, who gives information to Azriel is Lucien, so I believe we will see some conversation between the two.

I believe that the Ilyrians will plan something to hit the girls for getting out of the bloond rite alive, I believe that some Ilyrians will be inspired by them, probably Emerie will suffer something since besides being Ilyrian, she had her wings cut off and works and lives there, I am not sure but I think they will want them to stay training in the Ilyrian training camp. As Rhys and Cassian said it will be hard to make Azriel want to defend the Ilyrians because to him they could all die, I believe that will be one of the points to work on, maybe working with the Ilyrians he will feel the need to protect them and the fact that the Valkyries are connected to that makes me 50% sure that will be one of the triggers for him to defend them. (Just like Nesta who wanted the women to train to defend themselves and why it helped her with her trauma, I think this Ilyrianas training will mess with her feelings for being connected to her mother and the way she was treated). I also believe that the Ilyrian who did not kill the girls in the blood rite will reappear, probably mediating the problem between the Valkyries and the Ilyrians, to show Azriel that not all Ilyrians are bad and so on.

(I think this will be the first plot of the book, as it was in ACOSF, making this one want to go train, then her liking to train and wanting the other women to train as well. I think something like that will happen at the beginning of the book with Azriel).

The other plot I am not sure but I think it will involve AC again and Gwyn. I don't know how it will happen but I am really excited to read the next book.

Do you agree with this thought?

Hi Nonnie! No, definitely not tormenting me. <3

So, first, I just want to say this seems totally possible! Admittedly, that's not saying much, as I'm very open-minded to the possibilities of the next books and, also, considering what "possible" means, you really can't say something isn't possible. So, you won't find me saying something isn't possible unless it's like "I think Nesta and Rhys are going to go on a Bryaxis hunt, and they're going to fall in love and end up cheating on their mates with each other while Cassian goes off to Autumn to f*ck Eris and Feyre decides to explore her sexuality with Emerie." Like, okay, no, that's not gonna happen. 😂

But, with anything that really does seem to be thought of based on what's happened in the books and being foreshadowed - totally possible!

As for me, personally - I agree with a good chunk of this, but not sure on all of it, so I'm going to dive in to help explain better.

Lucien & Helion: Honestly, yes. I do agree more people will find out in the next book. I do hope it's saved mostly for the full novels over the novellas, as it's such a big plot point, so I really don't want anyone finding out in a novella, except maybe characters that would be completely unaffected by this. Like, for example, say people find out in book 5, then the Emorie novella comes out (that's my hope), and Mor reveals to Emerie about Lucien...unless Emerie and Lucien become besties in book 5, it really has very little effect on her life, so that's okay. But other IC members, for example - it needs to come out in a full novel.

That is, unless, it becomes the main plot point of a novella. But, since we know Lucien's story is likely to be in a novel, I find that unlikely.

So I do believe we'll start to see more. I think Cassian starting to see something in Lucien was a bit of foreshadowing, and my guess is that for the next book we'll see more of Lucien and E\ain, just like we saw more of Az in ACOSF - as the way to build up their book.

In terms of how it'll be added, I've added thoughts on that in the next section.

As for Eris & Helion, I honestly don't think we'll see Eris "getting" Helion to kill his father. Whether or not something happens between Helion and Beron, who can say? It's possible. But I don't see Eris playing much of a role in that, just potentially benefiting from it. XD

Illyrians & Valkyries: I also agree the next book will have more focus on this. ACOSF was about the creation/establishment of the Valkyries, and I think book 5 will have a focus - though maybe smaller - on the building up of the Valkyries more. I also agree, believing that makes it harder to understand how Lucien's story will come into play.

BUT. With the knowledge that Gwyn's grandfather was an Autumn Court High Fae, and since we do believe there's likely to be a focus on the Valkyries, that's possibly where it could come in. If the book really is Az-Gwyn, we will see more of Gwyn's story and development, and if there is any relation to Lucien, then I think we'll get to see their relationship grow and develop. And that would be a prime spot to bring in the other aspect of the story and reveal it a bit more. Similarly, if it's more Eris and Gwyn getting to know each other, that could still be an opening for this plot point.

As for the Illyrians planning something to hit the Valkyries - I'm, honestly, not convinced. They already did that in bringing them into the Blood Rite, so it would be a rather similar plot point to once again have the Illyrians secretly plan to hurt the Valkyries.

I DO agree there will be conflict there, for sure. I think there's already growing conflict in Illyria, so that's where the main focus will be - the Illyrians are discontent, I think there was growing belief of a possible rebellion or something? So I think that's likely what will have a focus, and the Valkyries will come into play in a way that, I think, will act as a catalyst.

I could see the issue being that the Valkyries come round, proving how females can be trained, now with two Carynthians and an Oristian (sp? 👀), and they could become a beacon for Illyrian females. Especially with Emerie, proving what you can do even with clipped wings (what a badass). And maybe they start to get the females training more. They'll still have their training at the House, considering the priestesses, but Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn (hopefully), I'm guessing, will do stuff in Illyria with Cassian and Az.

Az & Illyrians: I definitely agree. One of the biggest aspects of most characters' emotional arcs is accepting themselves, who they are, who they were born to be. And that's going to be a HUGE part of Az's emotional journey, because we know he doesn't accept himself. Just as I believe E\ain's will be revolving around accepting herself as being High Fae, Az's will likely revolve around accepting his heritage. He tries to pretend on so many levels that he's not an Illyrian, but he is. He can't hide it. That's part of who he is.

And I get it. The Illyrians can kinda suck. Az and Cassian are two opposite sides of the spectrum of having a hard time with their heritage. Cassian hates the way they are, and wants to change it, but also desperately wants their approval (bby boi <3). Az, on the other hand, literally wants to never deal with them and act as if he's not one of them.

So I agree about that part of Az's emotional journey. I think it'll involve more, with him finally understanding he is worthy of love and accepting every part of himself, but the Illyrian side is a big piece.

Overall, I'd say I agree with a lot of what you've said. I typically don't think too much about possible future plot points the way I do relationships and other things, mostly because I generally plan to be surprised. LOL But, in thinking about it, that's sort of where I end up on possibilities, especially when thinking about ways in which we might see certain things play out. I definitely have no idea what the big climax will be, nor am I sure how it'll tie to the overarching plot. Plot is, admittedly, one of my weaker links - I'm not good at big climaxes...👀 So no way can I guess what another author would do. But in terms of build up to major plot points, those are my thoughts.

Thanks for the question! :)

[adiabolikpastel]

Title: Lunar Eclipse Masquerade

Kanato pt. 2

Rating: NSFW | PG-17 (language & sexual content)

Word Count: 2,370

Pairing: Kanato x Yuuki (m/f)

ღ Yuuki marvels at the beauty of Eden Castle and it's guest, however, Kanato's agitation threatens to ruin things. Perhaps some alone time would do them both some good. ღ

Mun Yu: We made it to the second wave of LEM. I hope you all enjoyed the set up, and are ready for the main event. Our Lunar Eclipse is in full swing as the masquerade beings. These chapters will be longer.

Additionally: I would love to thank @dialovers-translations for translating the Kanato and Subaru versus CD which show cased them during the Lunar Eclipse. It helped me greatly to write his personality.

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ﾟ ｡. +ﾟ ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

Despite what most people think, demonic beings are very social creatures. The elites hold countless balls and parties, celebrating their immortality together, and entertaining one another with stories. Typically, they are done in celebration for something – though this is not always the case. All types of beings from across the Demon Realm will come if the host is of high enough prestige.

There would be no such host if it was not for Karlheinz. Seated as the head of the Bat Clan (vampires), Karl’s reach spans far. Being the widow for the former Demon King’s daughter, and having children of the first blood, an invitation from the Vampire King is not one to refuse. Though why would you? In his immaculate castle within the Demon Realm, Eden Castle, it is always quite the spectacle. While the celebrations held in his Human World mansion are nice, nothing compares to a true night of pleasure within the true home of the King.

On this night, there was to be a Masquerade in honor of the first Lunar Eclipsed Moon in over two years. While this night may serve each species differently, the idea to celebrate its return was simply too tempting. For this reason, Karlheinz took it upon himself – or rather – his house, to host the event. This extended to his offspring as well, regardless of their personal agenda. Members of every social elite race accepted the offer, and gathered for a truly unforgettable evening.

Yuuki marveled at the magnitude of Karlheinz’s castle. Kanato had told her it was called the Eden Castle, and that his father was always cooked up in it. It was the first actual castle Yuuki had ever seen in person. Kanato was less excited. He kept going on about how he was annoyed to be back in this house, and that he’d wished Teddy were with him.

Yuuki knew how much it meant to Kanato having to leave Teddy behind. So she offered him her hand as a stand in. At first the small vampire looked angry. She would even suggest such a thing, but once Yuuki’s hand was laced with his, he didn’t seem to mind. Yuuki declared that she wouldn’t let go all night, if it meant he would feel better.

The guests of the masquerade were all wearing such beautiful gowns and masks, Yuuki couldn’t help but notice. She asked Kanato if it was really all right for her to be here. He had only laughed and commented on how the demons may try to eat her if she wanders off. Yuuki couldn’t tell if it was a joke or he was just trying to make sure she didn’t leave him.

There were beautiful decorations, and the castle seemed to brighten even more as the music began to fill the halls. Everyone was welcome to explore, though most chose to stay in the ballroom. Kanato had wanted to spend time getting food, so that was where Yuuki and he went first. It was an eye opening experience to see the high society of the Makai interacting with one another.

While Yuuki had no actual concept of what everyone was, she could tell that there were no humans apart from herself and Yuko – who had tagged along with Ayato. That idea was rather frightening. Did other races not date humans? Surely there were other vampires at the party. What made the Sakamaki family so different? Perhaps one day Yuuki might learn the answer, but for tonight she was simply happy to be present with Kanato.

For the bulk of the evening, Kanto had the two of them sitting at a table. He had gotten a large amount of sweet treats, and was content simply staying away from the crowded areas. Yuuki however, was itching to go dance. “Your face is so honest.” Kanato finally spoke to her with a glare. “If you want to go that badly, simply leave me here.”

Yuuki pouts slightly at his words, “If I were going to dance, I’d only want to do it with you Kanato-san.” She assures him. “Are we going to? We came all the way here, and got all dressed up. You have all these foods at home, surely we could-"

“Please stop talking.” Kanato said softly, yet his voice was firm. Yuuki was about to protest when she saw that he was looking past her. Curious, she turned to find what on earth he could be looking at.

Not too far away from them, but far enough that it was a challenge for Yuuki to be sure, was a man dressed also in white. His hair was long, matching the color of his clothes, tied with a crimson ribbon, and draped over his shoulder. His mask simply covered his eyes and was a goldish color with what looked to be pearls. This man seemed to stand out, even in the crowd. As if the entire room was aware of his presence, and made it a point to keep a distance.

Next to him stood a gorgeous woman. Yuuki actually felt herself blush a little. She was also without an equal. Dressed in a single strapped long dress that started in black, then faded into a deep crimson. Her hair is decorated with matching colored flowers. Her mask matched the dress, being mostly black in color with some red jewels to decorate the center.

The two stood next to another man who held a similar aura to the first. Though without as much, overwhelming presence. By comparison, he seemed to be the opposite of the man in white. Dressed in darker clothing, and hair also dark, though long and tied in a ribbon as well. The three of them really stood out, though Yuuki couldn’t honestly say why.

“Wow… she’s beautiful.” Yuuki comments, thinking that Kanato was admiring the guest as well.

“Beautiful!?” Kanato’s voice was full of rage as his shout caught the attention of those around them. “Ha! That thing he has draped on his arm?! What a joke! Truly there is no lower standard that man will not fall to!” Kanato rants, and grabs a hold of the table.

Yuuki looks around nervously as the surrounding guests start to whisper. “Ua… K-Kanato-san why don’t we-" Before she could finish, the purple monster of a vampire flips the entire table over. All of the cakes, pastries, candies and ice cream spill onto the floor. Yuuki shot up out of her seat, ensuring no food could get on her dress. “Kanato-san!”

Kanato’s eyes were still locked onto the man at a distance. His rage bubbling inside. Yuuki moves around the mess to walk over to him, taking his arm. “Kanato-san, come with me, let’s go get you cleaned, okay?” The vampire did not fight her, but his eyes also never left their locked on location. Yuuki looked over her shoulder as she managed to get Kanato out of the ballroom. That man didn’t seem to notice their presence at all.

Yuuki held onto Kanato as she searched for a bathroom – though this castle was much larger than the mansion. In fact the more they walked, the more intense it seemed. The halls seemed to grow darker, and it felt like every turn only led to a dead end. However, Yuuki wasn’t going to give up. Kanato needed her to be strong in this moment, no matter how scary the castle seemed.

After walking for what felt like forever, Kanato finally stopped dead in the hallway. Yuuki also almost fell backwards at his abruptness, but she steadied herself. “Kanato-san? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” She asks, looking him over.

Kanato stood with his head downward, “That man- … how dare he show off that-… when that person always…” He mumbled to himself, as the frustration from before finally began to manifest itself into tears. “All my sweets are ruined as well…” He began to openly sob, wiping his eyes with his free hand.

Yuuki couldn’t bear seeing Kanato like this- she never could. It never mattered how selfish, or fake the tears were – Kanato crying always reduced her to a puddle. “Kanato-san…” Yuuki didn��t know how to help. This time it really seemed like he was frustrated and upset. Feeling at a loss herself, Yuuki looked down to their joined hands. Kanato had not let go, in fact, he was holding on so tightly. Just like with Teddy.

Without warning, Yuuki moved in front of Kanato and pushed her head onto his. The Vampire was surprised and looked into Yuuki’s eyes as she looked into his. “Kanato-san… I’m here… you don’t have to cry all by yourself. You know that, don’t you…?” She says softly, bringing her other hand up for him to lace with his.

Kanato was taken back for a moment, but slowly took her other hand in his. “You can be frustrated all you want with me, I don’t mind.” Yuuki smiles, squeezing his hands. “I want to help you… that’s why I’m here.”

Kanato sniffles a little before meekly asking, “You want to help me…?” Yuuki nods in response, and he begins to drag her down the hall. With no instruction Yuuki is simply left wondering where her keeper was taking her. She had been wandering the halls with no way of navigating them, yet Kanato seemed to know exactly where to go.

It does not take long for him to locate a room, and in a hurry he pulls Yuuki into it. A rather small bathroom, but this had been where Yuuki was trying to go. Kanato moved to lock the door as Yuuki wandered over to find a towel. “Here let me clean you up Kanato-sa-" Yuuki begins to offer, but Kanato embraces her from behind. “Ah! Kanato-san our clothes they’ll- … Ah~!” Yuuki began to protest, but was cut off as Kanato licked the side of her neck.

Kanato ran his tongue along her veins softly, “Fufu… you told me you wished to help… I have no concerns about these clothes.” He states firmly. “You too… instead of worrying about them… console me more.” Kanato murmurs against her skin as his fangs begin to descend.

Yuuki blushed at Kanato’s demands, and was about to speak when she noticed there was a mirror in the restroom. It captured their likeness perfectly. The embarrassment leaped from inside her, and she rushed to cover her face, “K-Kanato-san not here that’s too…” She groans a bit.

Kanato looks up, noticing the mirror himself. With a sigh he moves so that Yuuki would be pinned against the mirror. “You say that you will help me, but refuse when I ask!” He yells, his saddened cries echoing in the small room. “Why do you always toy with me like this!?”

Yuuki tries to push herself off of the glass, but the combined friction causes it to break. The shattering glass cuts into her hands and wrist, as they fall into the sink and onto the floor. She winces in pain, “Ah! Kanato-san wait… the glass…”

“You think that will stop me? I get to decide when your blood is taken!” Kanato says moving to a crouching position and lifting her dress, folding it up onto her hips. “We still have an appearance to make… So I’ll have to punish you down here. All though I wouldn’t mind marking you up for all to see~ Fufu.” Kanato speaks as he caresses Yuuki’s thighs.

Yuuki knew when things got to this level, it was because Kanato was feeling insecure. He needed some affirmation of her loyalty and affections, no matter how embarrassing it was. “I’m sorry Kanato-san… I was embarrassed before…” She says softly, looking over her shoulder to see him.

Kanato pouts a little and squeezes her thigh. “There is no taking it back now… I’ll spoil you a little I suppose. My fangs will feel good for you after all.” With that he bites into the fat of her thighs. Yuuki let out a small gasp, though it wasn’t so much in pain. “Haa… it’s flowing out… and mixing inside me…” Kanato’s voice was muffled as he drank deeply. “I was so frustrated before… mmmh but now…”

Yuuki’s face was beet red as Kanato drank from her. This situation was embarrassing enough, what if someone came by this room!? However, those thoughts alone were not enough to make her protest. In fact, she felt the moment a bit more. “Ahh… Kanato-san….!” Her voice echoed slightly as she tried to keep quiet.

“Nn… No good… let your voice out more…” Kanato whined as he moved over to her other thigh. “Haah… the sweetest melody you ever make...Fufu… Is when you moan from my fangs!”

Yuuki could feel Kanato bite deeper into her, causing a rather loud moan to escape her. As he drank, she couldn’t hold back. The echoing sounds filling the small space. “Ahha! Kanato-san…!” At this point in their relationship, Yuuki couldn’t help but feel… aroused whenever Kanato drank from her. It used to be embarrassing, but now… she just couldn’t help it.

Kanato pulls away with a loud sigh, licking the blood that dripped down Yuuki’s leg. “Haha… what will people think if this blood of yours stains the floor? Fufu...” He stands up, and looks at Yuuki through the mirror. “Aah~ Look at your face now! Your expression… it always excites me.”

Yuuki looks up into the mirror as well. Her expression was one of pure ecstasy. Cheeks flushed. Short of breath. Outfit a mess. “Fufu… you are beautiful, My Doll.” Kanato says, pulling Yuuki up from her bent position. He wraps one arm around her waist, the other up to the top of her dress. “Hey… comfort me more… you’ll do it properly right?” Kanato asks, tugging at her dress.

Yuuki smiles, leaning her head back against Kanato’s shoulder. “Of course…” She says catching her breath. Yuuki could never say ‘no’ to him. Not even as he holds her very life in his hands. There had been countless nights where his squeezed at her throat or drank from her until she passed out. Still, she would always consent to his torture.

Kanato sunk his fangs deep into Yuuki’s shoulder, while his hand grab onto her chest. She let out a gasp, moving her hips back against him. “Kanato-san…” His name floated in the air, filling the small space. Again and again. It was all she could manage to say when things got like this.

“Fufu… such a naughty doll you are… Hmm” Kanato moved his other hand up the bottom of her dress. “You are trembling, Fufu~ Say my name more… so that everyone knows who you belong to.”

After those words, any restraint left the both of them. The desire to feel one another. To be lost in their own world. “Haah… Kanato-san… I love you…” Yuuki voice was soft, despite how rough things had gotten. No longer in front of the mirror, the two had moved to sitting on the toilet. Yuuki on top of Kanato, her dress pulled down, his face buried into her chest.

The vampire had his fangs buried into her plump flesh when she spoke. He released her with a small pop, blood falling down over her skin. With a pure smile, he looked up at her, resting his face still on her accented breast. “Me too… fufu~” He moves to capture her lips.

It’s a sweet, yet tender kiss. Assuring her of his affection. When he pulls away, Kanato moves his head to rest once more on her breast. “My perfect Doll…” he mumbles diving his fangs into her as he thrust into her once more.

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ﾟ ｡. +ﾟ ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡ TO BE CONTINUED ☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

[yazthebookish]

“The gift of a violent, warmongering people,” Amren added. Azriel nodded, shadows wreathing his neck, his wrists. Cassian gave him a sharp look, face tightening, but Azriel ignored him. Rhys went on, though I knew he was aware of every glance between the spymaster and army commander[...]

“The Illyrians,” Rhys smoothly cut in, that light finally returning to his gaze, “are unparalleled warriors, and are rich with stories and traditions. But they are also brutal and backward, particularly in regard to how they treat their females.” Azriel’s eyes had gone near-vacant as he stared at the wall of windows behind me.

“They’re barbarians,” Amren said, and neither Illyrian male objected. Mor nodded emphatically, even as she noted Azriel’s posture and bit her lip. “They cripple their females so they can keep them for breeding more flawless warriors.”

I saw Cassian trudging through the mud—toward the few ramshackle tents outside of the camp. I asked her where he was going, and she told me that bastards are given nothing: they find their own shelter, own food. If they survive and get picked to be in a war-band, they’ll be bottom-ranking forever, but receive their own tents and supplies. But until then, he’d stay in the cold.” “Those mountains,” Azriel added, his face hard as ice, “offer some of the harshest conditions you can imagine.”

And this is from ACOMAF. How do you expect Azriel to go through his healing journey without facing his Illyrian background? Illyria is tied to his past.

He is still haunted by it. Example?

ACOMAF:

“She wanted to keep you out of your father’s claws,” Mor said, swirling her wine, her shoulders loosening as Azriel at last blinked, and seemed to shake off whatever memory had frozen him.

Azriel's chapter:

He avoided the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to look intimidating. He blocked out the memory that flashed--of his mother cringing before his father, the male standing with crossed arms in such a way that made his displeasure known before he opened his hateful mouth.

And what does SJM address in ACOFAS and ACOSF?

ACOFAS:

It was healthy, perhaps, for Az to sometimes remember where he’d come from. He still wore the Illyrian leathers. Had not tried to get the tattoos removed. Some part of him was Illyrian still. Always would be. Even if he wished to forget it.

ACOSF:

“Cassian rolled his eyes. But they both knew Azriel would sooner disband and destroy Illyria than help it. Convincing their brother that the Illyrians were a people worth saving was still a battle amongst the three of them.”

[flowerflamestars]

Nesta Under the Mountain part 3: acomaf, the later half

So while some extremely painful flirting is happening, so is plot. Azriel periodically disappears to try to infiltrate the Queens palace. Morrigan splits her time between Velaris and trying to keep Keir remotely in line. Amren and Lucien teach Nesta how to use magic, Cassian readies the legions for war.

So Nesta, unlike Feyre, has multiple sources for her most important questions: What the hell is Hybern doing? Trying to build an empire of old. Reaching for glory that isn’t there, because Prythian is wealthy.

Why Amarantha? Why was she so powerful?

It’s Rhysand who answers her, one day when they’re alone. He’s drinking on the roof- Nesta is inclined to make a comment about lordly behavior but doesn’t because she knows, she knows, from the look in his eyes, that he’s going to answer for real.

Amarantha liked to talk in bed. And Rhysand had, eventually, put the pieces together: Amarantha was the invading force alone, because Amarantha needed to earn Hyberns favor.

What did Hybern have? A kingdom crippled without its slaves. A King who’d ruled so long the world forgot his name. No heir, no other ruler. No son, only daughters.

Amarantha sought to earn her place in succession- with her father’s stolen magical secrets and a taste for vengeance.

Nesta accepts this, and has a drink.

There’s an interim of weeks, while Amren relearns a dead language and Azriel tries his last, worst plans. Nesta is so ready to tear out of her skin- Morrigan succeeds in getting Nesta to go out with her.

Morrigan pulls her over cobblestones to Ritas, and Nesta absolutely doesn’t tell her Lucien had found the place on his first city walkabout and been toasting their bitter victories there every one since.

Cassian, as he tends to wherever Nesta is, appears. They haven’t spoken since she came back with the book. Lucien trickles in with glitter in his hair, Azriel silent, offensively handsome drawing the light by his side.

And Morrigan watches. Cassian will spend the night quietly pressing fresh drinks into Nesta’s hand and glaring like absolute murder at any stranger who tries to get near. She sees how Cassian, her friend for five centuries, is contextualizing this: service, gladly rendered.

Understands he will make it small in his head and it means the opposite- the very opposite- that Nesta is letting him do either of those things for her. That she trusts him, to be near at all.

Morrigan and Nesta have a very different talk afterward than her and Feyre would have. Mor thinks it might be a good idea to make it really clear she herself doesn’t ever want Cassian, in case, that too, is standing in the way.

(Nesta also just...so clearly doesn’t have a single negative thought about Lucien doing...whatever Lucien does. They’ll get insouciant and mean and discuss the attractiveness of anyone. Nesta, unlike Feyre, reacts to queerness without even blinking)

So Mor and Nesta might not enjoy each other, exactly, but they respect one another. When Rhysand poses his insane Nesta you were mortal, let’s meet the Queens on mortal land plan, Morrigan, more than anyone, is the one who listens when Nesta explains that the Queens hate faeries.

Hate magic. Hate, even, it seems, the mortals that live along the wall for existing in proximity to Prythian.

It’s like letting go of a dream- for the chance of something real. Five centuries have passed, and that’s not much for Mor, but it’s everything, to mortals. Their bright lives are so quick, so valuable in an eyeblink- and that’s why Nesta’s here at all.

A mortal heart.

Azriel and Nesta team up- she scoffs that infiltration has fails, laughs outright at the idea she should be a diplomat, and proposes something else. They veritable army of spies, why are none of them mortal? Hundreds of humans work in Court of Queens. Voiceless, unrecognized. None of the magical protections would stop them.

So instead of Keir, or the Veritas, or her sisters- we bring back the lady mercenary. We bring in a whole bunch of lady mercenaries. A new network of information, passed from overlooked woman to overlooked woman, carried in shadows, all the way back to the Court of Night.

There’s no meeting. Because Hybern is already there. 

And Nesta thinks its the most insane thing she’s ever heard- they want to live forever?

Morrigan tries to comfort her, Lucien tries to stop Morrigan, because he knows- Nesta doesn’t regret. And she tells them all that, looking over the war map, each grim face and strange shred of sympathy. 

Nesta says, I know I’m a monster and I’m glad of it. I will never belong to just one Court, never go home. I cannot, because that life was taken from me and I am glad, because it will take a monster to protect the humans from other monsters. 

And Rhysand says, oh so very quietly: You can belong. 

But it’s lost, completely, in two things- the way Lucien has stepped around Azriel to let Nesta, not lean- Nesta, sober, leans on absolutely no one- but to be there, close, in her orbit, and Cassian standing up. 

It’s the Queens Meeting promise, dark chocolate version. Cassian wipes away that one tear on her perfect face. Says to her and her alone like no one else is there, that he’d done monstrous things his entire life in the name of what was right. But he’d become something worse, unleash a whole ocean of blood, to protect the innocents who needed it. Die a monster, in defense of those mortals with her.

And Nesta just looks at him. Like she can see all the way through to his aching soul, and nods. 

One commander to another. Absolute, perfect, understanding.

So what happens, if the mcguffin of the book cannot work?

Nesta says, like Cassian isn’t still staring at her, like she isn’t leaning into Lucien’s bodyheat like a refuge- the book is to control the Cauldron, but why can’t we just go after the Cauldron?

Steal it? Break it? Use it ourselves.

No ones answers particularly satisfy her- they can winnow. They can move unseen. There’s more power in this room than whole kingdoms possess, why the hell can’t they just break in, touch the Cauldron, and winnow away?

Cassian says it’s suicide. The castle is a deathtrap. Guards, wards, magic.

And, Rhysand adds, the Cauldron might not play along. It’s too powerful, too old to just treat like an object. The Cauldron itself could resist.

They’re all piling out of the townhouse, after the unsuccessful meeting, when Lucien goes white. Freezes.

And Nesta knows.

Knows that despite every precaution, the words that have never, ever escaped her lips in Prythian. Despite Tamlin dead- someone, somehow, found out that Prythian’s vengeance has two vulnerable, mortal sisters.

Nesta is grabbing onto Lucien to winnow away before anyone can ask what is wrong. Because something is wrong, so, so wrong- at the last second, Cassian snatches her hand, and ends up dragged along.

The Archeron estate is on fire.

There’s no time to ask- no time to talk. Cassian starts killing Hybernian soldiers left and right, no one here that can actually stop him.

Nesta runs straight into the fire, Lucien on her heels, keeping the flames away. Not that he needs to- Nesta is shimmering with power, every Court’s strength right on the surface, teeming to be used. She kills six men before she finds Elain, kicking and screaming in a soldiers arms. 

That soldier loses his head- that man, Lucien turns to ash.

It’s Cassian who finds Feyre, hidden in the kitchen, standing on top of table having just dumped a small ocean on lye on her attackers. Despite making short work of the burnt, pissed off faeries, she’s still throwing shit at him when Nesta, screaming her name, is finally close enough to be heard.

Nesta almost stabs Cassian in the back getting to Feyre. Fey jumps off the table, straight at her sister- there’s no pause for thought, no flinch at her faery face and bloody hands, just an armload full of her taller baby sister, an easy weight to carry now.

When they make it out of the collapsing house, Azriel and Rhys are waiting.

It’s Rhys who says, in that tone of voice that makes Nesta want to beat him to death, the voice that insists, I understand, who says, you have a family?

Nesta doesn’t answer. Nesta doesn’t say a goddamn word to anyone at all except for Feyre and Elain as they take them back to Velaris. As she settles them in the roaring warmth of one of the palatial sitting rooms, wraps them in blankets. Conveys, solely with a head jerk and a glare, that Cassian should make himself useful and provide hot beverages.

Nesta doesn’t say anything until the burns are healed by Lucien, her sisters understand where they are, and what has happened.

It’s Feyre who snaps first and bodily pulls Nesta down on the couch between them. Elain who leans hard, shoulder to shoulder, and wipes the blood off Nesta’s face.

They love each other- they still love her, don’t blame her, and that is what makes Nesta’s choice.

She introduces them to Lucien, her friend. To the others without explanation, the odd bedfellows of war Nesta really is starting to like despite herself. Except Rhys. Rhys can fall in the damned ocean. 

It’s a long, long evening, and they all get settled eventually- Feyre, in particular, with a shy smile and an extra mug of Cassian’s hot chocolate. 

Everyone goes their separate ways, and Lucien, quietly, slips off to find Nesta in the dark.

He knows what she’s going to say. Hybern came for her family- Hybern almost killed her sisters. Nesta doesn’t give a fuck about the book, about Rhysand’s alliances, or hangup on the mortal queens- Nesta wants Hybern to pay.

Lucien sometimes looks at his life now- free, safe as he choses, the dark eyed smile of man who fears no part of him- and thinks it’s all because of Nesta Archeron’s heart. Nesta, who believed in loyalty enough to buy his safety. Nesta, who had every reason to hate Spring and still been the only person to look close enough and see, that Lucien was just as trapped.

No one in his life had ever given him that, so easily. No one had cared. 

Nesta didn’t even think about it- he was in her corner and she was in his, friends. Best friends, only friends they had. Lucien would have still chosen her, every time.

Choses her now- Nesta says, I’m going tonight. I’m going alone. I’m not waiting any longer.

And Lucien squeezes her hand, and tells her, not alone.

They winnow to the castle like bone across the sea. 

Lucien might not know why he can break wards, why foul enchantment can’t touch him, but he knows how to use it. How to fight and kill, and does just that. Lucien stands guard, Lucien gets Nesta to the Cauldron.

No Book, no plan, just this- Nesta’s will do what is right.

Two hands on the Cauldron- and Rhysand was right. It won’t move. It won’t be winnowed away, it pulls her in and speaks. 

The story of the Cauldron is the story of a woman. 

Power, power, power- endless potential, utilized to create. A thousand children, a million voices. But then her children grew- into their own power, their own politics and ways. They forgot her voice, that forget she’d made them- and they trapped her. Broke her. Imprisoned her.

Forgot she was not a cauldron- she was their Mother.

But the Mother was also once the Maiden, the Mother always becomes the Crone.

The Crones watches, as the dark night comes, and all life eventually ends.

She’d been imprisoned all over again.

Nesta Archeron, drowning in power, communicates by sheer force of screaming, raging will. 

I was imprisoned, I stolen, I was remade against my will-

I was broken, and all I asked was that my family be safe- all I wanted- I am the child of every Court you made, I am the daughter of your power and i WILL NOT- I will not allow your sons to kill what is ours-

The Cauldron, seething, stills, if only for a moment.

Nesta thinks she’s won. Nesta realizes, too late, that she can smell blood. Lucien, stabbed and scrabbling, Nesta being dragged away from the Cauldron- the King had waited for her.

And how he crooned with joy- Nesta Archeron, the destroyer. Nesta Archeron, Prythian’s vengeance. Nesta Archeron you will be mine, you, you, you, finally, a worthy woman-

It’s a desperate, stupid ploy. Nesta can’t escape, Nesta can’t save Lucien, knows it from the blood dripping off his lips as he mouthes, a goodbye: love you, Archeron. 

Nesta jumps into the Cauldron.

What comes out is not what went in- young as a fawn, old as the seas- Nesta doesn’t have to steal eternity. She’s already eternal, she’s already powerful in her rage-

But the Cauldron, who’d slept so long. Broken in peices, cold, welcomes her fire like the fierce magic of her first children, and gives her a gift. 

Nesta’s no maiden or mother, but the Cauldron is happy to let the Crone out.

Death comes out of those waters, and mists the King of Hybern.

Scoops up her beloved companion, the fire that lights the way, and leaves the castle of the king unraveling behind her.

Nesta brings the Cauldron home. 

The bloody bundle of Lucien is pulled from her arms on the floor of Rhysand’s townhouse, the Cauldron quiet behind them. It’s to Cassian who is frankly patting her down, searching for injuries, that Nesta says:

She wasn’t the only sister, and then passes out.

[dustjacketmusings]

The Intervention Scene: Pretty Much A Rant

I've seen a lot of really great discourse in the fandom around whether the intervention was controlling/abusive or necessary tough love. The thing is... Nesta absolutely needed an intervention. And this was an intervention. Feyre said approximately the right things at approximately the right time with approximately the right amount of structure for this to be successful. My problem is all of the approximates. It's really not clear why there was an intervention in the first place, and all of the actions following it undercut the message, or literally any message.

I charted them all out because this mess is living rent free in my brain. So here are the possible reasons why there could have been an intervention, and why the intervention itself or following actions made it fall so very flat for me.

Nesta is depressed. This is absolutely true. We see from Nesta's perspective that she is slowly killing herself. But following conversations with other characters make it clear that how Nesta sees herself is not how Cassian and other others see her. Do Feyre and Cassian know that Nesta is depressed? I honestly have no idea. And if that's the reason why they intervened... why did it take until Chapter 12 for anyone to ask how she was doing? Like - putting a depressed person in bootcamp and then never asking them how they feel, while systematically shutting down any time they want to vent is the worst idea I've ever heard. Even if Cassian is excused (maybe he didn't get the memo), Feyre could have checked up on her more. I wouldn't send my very depressed sister away without status updates more frequently than Feyre does. She also, pointedly, does not take Cassian aside to remind him to treat her sister with kindness. This is not even to say that the bootcamp aspect of this is extreme. If she is just depressed, why does she need to train so vigorously that she needs a strict diet? Exercise first -> battle formations later. The weird focus on training still makes no sense to me. I understand expecting training to help, but Cassian really does shut down any time she tries to talk about her feelings.

Nesta is alcoholic. This is pretty realistic and the structure of the intervention mimics this cause the closest. This looks like the intervention from the family of an addict. The problem is... Nesta has no problems with alcohol. She's fine after two days, never has a relapse, and suffers no ill effects. If that's the case, was she in danger of being an alcoholic in the first place? There also isn't really a plan for when she gets out of here. Eventually she'll be able to climb the stairs and even though she has no money, an addict will go to desperate measures to get alcohol. It's never brought up or addressed. The training aspect of bootcamp seems extra extreme for this scenario because... why would she need to train at all? It's just detoxing, really.

Nesta is not eating enough and arguably has an eating disorder. This one infuriates me after the breakfast scene. I cannot come up with words to explain how absolutely stupid it is to take someone with a suspected eating disorder and then control what they eat, while ignoring their requests for different food. Additionally... TRAINING. Why would you physically exhaust someone who's not eating? They'll just train and not eat and then they're worse off. And also this would be way better if anyone ever referenced THAT SHE WAS EATING. "Cassian... make sure she eats something" would have made Feyre so much more sympathetic. Ugh its just the worst! Because they notice that she's lost weight (while still fitting in her leathers perfectly, because that's possible), and then totally ignore her positive attempts to eat food.

Nesta is a sex addict. This is also argueable true. But I'm again unclear how training and mandatory service are supposed to help a sex addict other than keeping them busy. And, of course, she has a ton of sex with Cassian all the time. So if this is the issue, its incredibly problematic and never solved. They just stuck her in bootcamp while also feeding her addiction. There is literally no reason for the controlling aspects.

Nesta is spending too much of Feyre's money. Yeah this is true. Sorry Nesta but its absolutely within Feyre's right to cut her off. That being said... bootcamp? "You spent too much of my money so I'm going to control almost every aspect of your day and kick you out of your apartment" ??? I don't think I need to say how extreme of a response this is. This motivation would work really well if she was just doing library services. "You spent too much money without contributing so now you have to contribute at this library. Since you can't winnow or fly and everyone else has actual jobs (it's my headcannon that they have actual jobs and can't just taxi service) you need to live there too. Cassian will also be there because he lives there and to make sure you comply." Feyre could just say she's going to pay back her debt so she has to work at the library for XX time. OR the libary now funds her allowance (but that gives her way too much freedom). But training? We'll revisit in a few months? Revisit what?

Nesta is embarrassing Feyre as High Lady. This one is tricky, because on the one hand, fuck Feyre for this comment. On the other hand, Feyre is now an important public official and her sister does reflect on her. (Do not get me started on how Feyre not being able to "control" her sister implies shes unfit to be High Lady. The fact that she used the word "control" implies that she's unfit to be High Lady, not Nesta's behavior. You don't control your subjects but - ugh, I got started) Lets assume for a second that this is valid. If Nesta is embarrassing Feyre in public wouldn't the rational response to have someone... tell her what is appropriate behavior in public? Say, someone very good with presenting a public face... like Mor??? Who also conveniently has a few days off from being a politician????? Bootcamp to become a strong warrior is... not relevant? Wtf? Have they never met a warrior who is totally compentent on the battlefield and an epic embarrassment otherwise (that sounds kind of like Cassian tbh...). There is an arguement to be made that Nesta already knows how to do this (she's actually decent at politics) so her embarrassing Feyre must be on purpose. It's still a gross oversight to say "You're behaving incorrectly but I'm not going to tell you what was incorrect, go fix it". UNLESS:

They want to control Nesta. This one makes an UNCOMFORTABLE amount of sense. They didn't tell her what to fix. She's just going off and "they'll revisit in a few months" to check on her progress. See how moldable she is maybe? Controlling every aspect of her life in a place she can't escape on her own? check. BUT because this book makes no sense, they manage to fuck this up too. Why did they train at Windhaven?? Look, I'm not saying that anyone should control someone's life until they break down and become a shell of their former self, but if someone were to do that, it's in private. Arguably, Windhaven, where there was civil unrest less than a year ago, is full of people who ABSOLUTELY need to believe that Nesta is under the control of the IC (or at least on the same side). So why would they take her there on the first day, when she is most full of defiance? (They're idiots, moving on) Cassian's comments about how Nesta was embarrassing him in front of other people were hilariously a joke because he put them in front of other people to begin with. (Even if they didn't want to control her, why windhaven? Like... oh look there's the High Lady's sister who is an absolute weakling and garbage at throwing a punch. This reflects so well on the inner circle. what????)

The problem is that SJM took all of these reasons and put them in a blender to give some frankenstein motivation. In the end there was too much going on so she achieved none of it. It feels almost like a successful intervention, until you look a little closer, and then everything falls apart.