#we’ve never had that in acotar

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Angel of Music (Azriel x Reader)

AN: guys this is always one of my emotional support movies/plays I’ve seen it a million times so it only seemed fair that I give it the ACOTAR collab it deserves. 

Summary: It was the inner circles first time at the theater and from the way the Shadowsinger was blushing they all had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last. (the reader plays Christine Daae in Velaris’ adaptation of The Phantom Of The Opera and Azriel falls in love with her, but he’s afraid that she won’t like him because of his scars because she choose Raoul in the play) Set between ACOWAR and AOFAS

Warnings: Angst because of Azriel’s scars, shy az, but so much fluff, (just a little Az brain rot, didn't take this too seriously)

Word Count: 3,070

It wasn’t the shadowsinger's usual scene. Bustling people dressed to the nines, plush red chairs, gold sconces, orchestras. But Cassian had been tirelessly trying to make Nesta smile, and Ferye wanted to try and get her sisters together, so here he sat in the box that Rhysand had purchased for the night. 

Nesta loved the music and dancing, Elain loved the romance, and Feyre loved the costumes and color palettes of scenes. Cassian wanted to see Nesta smile, and Rhysand would do just about anything Feyre asked of him. 

In all his 500 years of life, Azriel had never thought to go to the theater. When he was a child he heard of his parents going but of course, he never got to go. As he grew the idea of going to see a show simply never crossed his mind.

When the lights went down and the orchestra came to life he spent most of his time watching Cassian, who was watching a very intrigued Nesta. He stayed that way until a clap and a spark echoed throughout the room. At first, he thought there was danger, but as soon as he turned his attention towards the stage he saw the large chandelier raise itself to life bringing the dilapidated stage with it. Golds, reds, and vibrant colors filled the room. 

Still, Azriel had trouble following the plot. But as he watched Nesta and her sisters become entranced by the music and dancing. The loud organ had stirred something in him, but he didn’t truly feel moved until her. 

Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye…

Azriel was sitting in a box at the edge of the theater, but even from this distance, he could tell that she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen.  He scooted to the edge of his seat a tad just to be that much closer to her. Her voice was that of a siren, no not a siren, an angel. His shadows danced around his ears and his wings at the sound of her ballad. Even the rest of the inner circle seemed to be entranced by her spell. 

As the play went on he found himself becoming irrationally jealous of Raoul. The pretty Viscount had not given her a second look at the beginning of the play. It wasn’t until the organ sounded again that the sound of her voice graced Azriel’s ears. The woman walked through a mirror towards a masked man. 

Who was this masked man? Where was he taking her? It wasn’t until Mor rested her hand to where he was gripping his chair with white knuckles that he remembered it was just a play. He sat back in his seat more, trying to tell his shadows to calm down. But as her voice climbed and climbed that beautiful crescendo they twisted and turned around him. 

Azriel spent the rest of the play being utterly entranced by the beautiful singer’s relationship with the Phantom. The masked man was dark and radical, staying in the shadows where no one could see him. He observed her from afar. Much like the shadowsinger did himself in every aspect of his life. 

It was clear to him that the Phantom was in love with Christine. So when Raoul and Christine kissed he nearly felt his heart shatter. The way the Phantom mourned, and cried, it felt all too personal to Azriel. 

I  gave you my music, made your way. And now how you’ve repaid me, denied me and betrayed me…

  From there on out Azriel found himself rooting for the Phantom, the man he saw so much of himself in. He nearly shed a tear when he found out why the man wore a mask. A scared child in a cage made to perform. 

He looked down at his mangled hands sitting on the arms of his chair. He had known a similar childhood and had suddenly wished he had something like a mask to cover such torn flesh. Maybe then the beautiful woman on stage might look at him with that same lovesick gaze, she wore now for Raoul, but he knew that could never be.

For a moment he felt joy, seeing her kiss the Phantom with such passion, such love. Only for that joy to be extinguished like a candle when she walks out with the Viscount. Of course, she would choose him, life does imitate art after all. It wasn’t until the curtain went down and the crowd erupted in thunderous applause that Azriel broke from his trance, standing to applause with them. 

“Well that was wonderful,” Feyre beamed, linking her arm with Rhysand’s. 

“I’ll say, that girl sang like an angel,” Mor gushed, fanning herself with her program as we all made our way out of the box. “Even Azriel seemed to enjoy it,” the female smirked, bumping Azriel with her shoulder. She had seen the lovesick gaze in his eyes. 

“It was so romantic the way Raoul came to rescue her,” Elain swooned, grabbing her sister's other arm. 

“Oh please, the Phantom was the obvious choice!” Nesta huffed at her sister's comment. 

“Nesta, would you like to meet the cast? Maybe talk to some of the dancers?” Feyre asked, changing the subject quickly before conflict arose. 

Nesta thought for a moment and spoke again, “Yes I would.” all she said. 

Of course, it was an easy task for Rhys to sweet-talk his way backstage, the inner circle sticking out like a sore thumb as they weaved past props, costumes, and the ensemble. Azriel’s eyes stayed ever vigilant, unable to let go of years of training as they walked down a dark hall. A cast member opened a door at the end of the hall to reveal mirrors with glimmering faelights around them. Vanities with every manor of makeup and costume jewelry. Two men he recognized as the actors who played the Viscount and the Phantom. 

The Phantom had washed off the makeup that made his face look scarred. Once again Azriel wished he too had that ability. Rhys and Feyre shook both their hands introducing them to the whole inner circle, but Azriel paid no mind. His hazel eyes were searching for a hint of her.

“Oh y/n there’s someone who wants to meet you!” called out one of the actors. 

“Oh, really who?” called a voice so melodic Azriel just knew that she had to be an angel. 

His shadows wisped around him frantically, calling out her name in his ear, like they were excited to finally know it. Rhys and Feyre’s eyes looked to their friend and smiled at one another. 

She walked around from a changing screen, tying the strings of the robe she was wearing that looked similar to the one she had worn on stage. She nearly stopped in her tracks as she saw her High Lord and Lady staring at her. 

“My Lord, My Lady,” she bows. “It is an honor.”

“No, no, please don’t bow,” Feyre rushes over, bringing the singer upright. “If anything we should be bowing to you. You sang like a goddess out there, you are truly talented.”

“Why thank you, my Lady, I’m truly happy you enjoyed the show,” she smiled and Azriel’s heart all but glowed. 

“Please call me Feyre,” the High Lady smiles, extending her hand. 

“Y/n,” the singer replied, taking her hand and shaking it. 

Azriel kept to the sidelines as the inner circle conversed with the cast and crew. Feyre and Rhys praised the play director and claimed they would be purchasing their box for the rest of the season. Nesta picked the brains of the dancers and their instructor, Cassian listening dutifully behind her. Elain chatted up the Phantom and Raoul, both actors seemingly falling for her, once again showing how life imitates art. 

Mor talked to y/n, about what? Azriel didn’t know. But the second Mor caught Az gazing at y/n she held out a hand to him. 

“Y/n I’d like you to meet Azriel, spymaster for the night court,” Mor said, beckoning Azriel over. 

Azriel quickly put his hands behind his back, not wanting to scare her with his scars. He could’ve sworn he saw her cheeks tint a shade pinker as he approached, looming over her in size. 

“How do you do?” y/n asks.

It takes a second for Azriel to realize that her angelic voice is speaking to him.

“Oh um, very well thanks.” he stutters, already feeling like a fool. Gods she was even more beautiful up close, he found himself suddenly longing for the box that offered him sanctuary, or a mask like the Phantom had. 

“Did you um, enjoy the show?” she probed and Azriel realized that Mor had conveniently dismissed herself. 

“I did,” he said quickly. “You have a beautiful voice, I could’ve listened all night.” 

Once again he swore he saw y/n blush as she looked down at her feet, “Thank you, though I think I fell flat a little in the first song. Opening night and all,” she laughed nervously and oh Cauldron, the sound of her laughter was enough to make Az take one step towards her. 

“No it was perfect, all of it.” he spat out, not standing to hear her say one more bad thing about herself. 

“Well thank you Azriel,” she said and by the fucking Cauldron she smiled at him. His name fell off her perfect lips and she smiled at him. He must’ve been dead and somehow gotten to heaven, there was no other explanation. 

The rest of the inner circle watched the pair intently. Feyre sank further into Rhysand’s side as they both realized they were watching Azriel fall in love in real-time. The yin and yang of the pair was near poetic and Feyre told herself she would pain this exact moment tomorrow morning. 

“Y/n why don’t you come to dinner with us? We would love to hear more about you,” Rhysand smiled.

His words broke the trance y/n was in, “Oh my Lord I truly wish I could, but I have an early day tomorrow and my apartment is clear across town.” She apologized. 

“No worries, it sounds like we will all be back for tomorrow night's show as well. Though I would hate for you to walk home alone,” Rhys smirked trying to get Azriel to bite at the bait.

“Not to worry I make the trek all the time,” she smiled, picking up the many vases of flowers people had left for her on her vanity. 

“Azriel could walk you home, couldn’t you Az?” Mor chimed in and Azriel shot her a look. 

“Uh, yeah I could if you’d like,” Azriel mentioned stuttering over his words as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Oh no I wouldn’t want to take you from dinner with your family,” she assured him, picking up two large vases of flowers. 

“Not at all, I would be honored to walk you home,” the shadowsinger said a little too quickly. Feyre tried to stifle her laugh in Rhys’ side, she had never seen her spymaster so flustered. 

“Okay then,” the girl smiled and soon enough they were off down the cobblestone street, their way lit by dim faelight. 

y/n’s pov:

“Your shadows are incredible,” I smile watching as the dark wisps carry the various vases of flowers down the road. 

I had been more than happy to have the High Lord’s shadowsinger walk me home. In all honesty, I was captivated by the male the moment I set eyes on him. Sure he was hard, dressed in black, and over a foot taller than me. 

A sane woman might’ve kept her distance from the male, he was dangerous after all. But I knew the moment he spoke that he wasn’t a threat. There was a quiet and gentle calm underneath all that darkness.

“Thank you,” he says and I swear I see him blush. “They seem to really like you.” 

“They do? How can you tell?” I laugh as one of the little fellas brush against my cheek like a cat brushing against an ankle. 

“They went wild when you were singing tonight,” he chuckles, seemingly remembering how they danced. 

“Really?” I ask balking a bit. 

“I’m serious, give it a try,” he smiles, motioning for me to sing again. 

I shrug and clear my throat before singing a line from the play, “Angel of Music, hide no longer. Come to me, strange angel,” I sang softly and sure enough the little shadows danced and swirled around me. Threading themselves through my hair and around my arms where they held my vases of flowers. 

“That’s amazing,” I breathe finally watching the small wisps die down, hiding behind their master like they were shy. 

“You’re amazing,” their master spits out and then blushes. ‘

I can’t help but feel myself blush too, shying away from the hulking Illyrian. He didn’t look so tough as his shadows carried dozens of flowers behind him. He had walked down the street with his hands behind his back the whole time, not needing to lift a finger. 

The little purple door I’m so used to seeing comes into view. Outside the cottage are dozens and dozens of roses and the light inside is out. 

“I leave these here,” I say gesturing to the flowers I’m holding as I set them on the front porch. 

“Why not take them home? Were they not gifted to you?” Azriel cocks an eyebrow as his shadows place the flowers neatly next to the ones I set down. 

I laugh starting back down the path towards my place, “I get so many, I can’t possibly keep them all. Marla is an elderly woman who lost her husband years ago. It brings her joy to have them, so I leave them for her. Besides it’s not like they’re from anyone special,” I shrug, subtly dropping the hint to Azriel that I’m not otherwise engaged. 

Azriel pauses beside me and approaches a rose bush blooming near one of the cottages. Drawing his dagger, he carefully slices off a vibrant red rose. Before offering it to me, he painstakingly removes every thorn with the same blade, as if to protect my hands from even the slightest prick.

“You deserve to have at least one flower,” he says offering me the rose. 

I blush and go to reach for it when I catch sight of his hand. The mangled and marred flesh. I can’t help but feel my breath hitch as I wonder who could’ve done such a thing to such a gentle soul. The scarred hand pulls back a bit as if realizing my staring. 

“I guess I’m more Phantom than dashing Viscount,” he utters sadly, referring to my play and my role in it. My heart shatters as I see his broken expression. 

“You know,” I smile, taking the rose from his scarred hands. “I always thought that Christine should end up with The Phantom, he was clearly the better choice.” 

His head whips up as if I’ve uttered an inconceivable phrase. “Even though he had ugly scars?” Azriel inquires, his face tight like he might not want to hear whatever answer I provide.

“Who said he was ugly?” I laugh, did this beautiful specimen of a male truly believe he was ugly because his hands bore scars? 

“So you would choose the Phantom?” he cocks an eyebrow as if trying to read if I was telling the truth.

“In a heartbeat,” I affirm confidently and honestly.

He takes a step towards me, his form getting even bigger, “and what about scarred hands? Is that a deal breaker?” he probes, holding out his hands so I can see that they both harbor similar markings.  

I shake my head taking another step towards him, appreciating the beauty that is him. From the white scars that ran up his hands, to the shadows that danced around him like they they were whispering to him.

“So if I asked you to dinner after your show tomorrow?” he queries taking a step towards me as well.

“I would ask you where we are going?” I reply feeling my cheeks heat up. Was he asking me out? I tried to push the butterflies down in my stomach.

“Rita’s ?” he shrugs, stepping forward. 

“Sounds like a plan,” I smile moving towards him more, like I was compelled to.

“I’ll swing backstage after the curtain closes,” he smiles, seemingly becoming more confident in himself as we step closer together just a few feet apart.

“I’ll put your name on the list,” I say, feeling his presence pull me in. 

“And if I were to send you flowers? What kind would you like?” he interrogates further. 

I think for a moment, no one had ever asked me what flowers I might like to receive. My eyes look around as if searching for inspiration until they land on a blue siphon adorning his chest that’s right in front of me. 

“Something blue,” I blush knowing that when I see the cobalt flowers on my vanity I will know they are from him. 

“Consider it done,” he smiles and I suddenly realize that we’re mere inches apart now. 

I turn to my right where the blue door to my house beckons to be opened. Pulling out my keys I unlock it and use my shoulder to shove it open as it always gets stuck. 

“Well,” I say shyly. “Thank you for walking me home,” 

“Anytime,” he smiles looking down at his feet. 

The sight of the bashful warrior on my front doorstep has me melting. His face is so beautiful and perfectly carved I can't help but lean up on my toes and kiss his cheek. I almost regret it when it’s over but the violent red of his cheeks makes me smile again.

“Well goodnight,” I say, trying not to let my words shake in the process. 

“Goodnight,” he smiles, brushing a hand against his freshly kissed cheek.

I close the door and place the single, thornless, rose he cut for me in a vase. It isn’t until I turn on a light that I hear him take off into the night and I swear I hear him let out a grand whoop from way up in those clouds.

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202 , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark , @cheneyq

[sarawritestories]

You're My Forever

High Lord Eris Vanserra xFem Reader

Summary: Eris Vanserra sits on his throne, allowing himself to be lost in his thoughts when his mate comes looking for him.

Content warning: A little bit of self doubt. A whole lot of love

A/N: This is dedicated to @milswrites who helped me have a major breakthrough in a plot of my Novel and this was the best way I knew how to thank her!

Word Count: 1.3k

ACOTAR MasterList

Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court.

A title the eldest Vanserra child never thought he would receive. Running his hands along the gold arm rests of the throne, as if the cold bite of the metal could keep him rooted in reality a reminder that he wasn’t dreaming. Beron was dead. His reign of terror came to an end. This throne, this manor, the entire Court of Autumn was Eris’. Eris sat on the extravagant piece of furniture crossing his leg over the other and allowed himself this one moment to be lost in his thoughts. A moment where he let his doubts rise to the surface.

Would he be a fair ruler?

Could he make a difference within his court?

Was he a good mate? A good husband?

Would he make a good father?  Make sure his kids experienced no harm by his hand as he had with Beron?

Was this just a dream? Would he wake up tomorrow back in the clutches of

“Eris?” Eris blinked at the sound of his name looking up he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice. You had stepped into the throne room a pink silk robe wrapped around yourself, your hand supporting your swollen belly. Your hair fell in soft curls right above your chest, face as radiant as ever.

The newly appointed High Lord met your eyes once more, his mate, his beautiful mate, wife soon-to-be mother, the most beautiful female in all of Prythian in his eyes. Your soft smile still made his chest tighten. “My Little Doe, what are you doing out of bed?”

You approached the dais, you were halfway through your pregnancy and walking was becoming more challenging, “I’m looking for my husband, who should have met me in bed hours ago.” She stopped right in front of him and looked around the room, “I can’t seem to find him, High Lord, you wouldn’t happen to know where he is?”

Eris rubbed his chin as his eyes dipped slightly, your robe slipped down revealing your shoulders just enough, that Eris saw the light pink lace bra and the swell of your breast. and he adjusted in his seat. “My fair maiden, what does this male look like?”

“Handsome, has adorable freckles across his nose, eyes that resemble fiery embers.” Your eyes glanced down to his mouth, “A very kissable mouth,” You smiled, “His hair is red and long and smooth enough that I find myself always running my fingers through it.” You grip his knee clad in his riding clothes from going out to the villages earlier.

“Well, he sounds very beautiful,” Eris puffed out his chest causing you to giggle, and he loved that melodic sound. “He must be if he was lucky enough to have you, as his mate.” His throat tightened; he was a lucky male indeed.

“I believe I am the lucky one. The mother blessed me with a mate, who is brilliant, kindhearted and passionate as he is pretty.” Your smile fell slightly. “Are you okay?”

Eris smiled, and adjusted his legs and patted his lap, “Come here, My Love.”

The High Lord tilted his head as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth. “I’m too big, I’ll hurt you.”

Eris growled, as his brows furrowed, “We’ve talked about this.” He leaned down and gripped your chin, “What did I say?”

You sighed, “I am growing a person, and with that is going to be changes I’m simply not used to.” He quirked a brow, waiting for you to continue. “And if you heard anyone talking down about me, you would be the one to teach them a lesson. Even if said person was me.”

The male kissed your forehead, “Good Girl, now come here and sit on your High Lord’s lap.” He released you from his grasp and leaned back. You stepped toward him, and Eris helped turn you and placed you on his lap, picking your legs up so that they dangled over the arm rest. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you placed your hand on the base of his neck. With a flick of his hand all the doors that led to the room locked causing you to jump briefly. “Now, where is that sweet little babe of ours?” You smiled as he tugged at the tie of your robe and the strings fell to the side and the silk slid off your round stomach. Revealing lace panties that matched your top, garter belts holding your sheer stockings in place. With his free hand he grazed your calf and worked his way up your body.

 As he began his slow ascent up your body, he could smell your arousal, “Waiting for me in bed? I am a fool.” He reached your stomach, admiring the stretchmarks that have appeared in the last few months. His russet eyes, met yours, “You are the most beautiful creature, and how hope our child is just as beautiful as their mother.” You could feel heat rise to your cheeks, as you leaned your head back as Eris warmed his hands just a bit to ease the discomfort.

“Eris Vanserra, I know what you’re doing.”  You lifted your head quirking your brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His lips pressed to your stomach his fingers sliding under the waistband of your panties.

Your hand found his wrist. And he lifted his head, “Eris, what’s wrong?”

Eris sighed and moved his hand, wrapping you back in your robe. “Nothing is wrong. I have everything I want. I have my court, my throne,” He pressed his forehead to yours, “My beautiful mate, carrying my child.” He closed his eyes. “I’m terrified that I will wake up, and I will find that this will all be a dream.”

“Darling, how long have you been feeling this way?” You whispered pressing your hand to his cheek swiping your thumb a crossed his freckled cheek idly.

“Since I became High Lord.” Before you could scold him, he continued, “I didn’t want to worry you. Or worse, I was afraid that you would think I would turn into my father and leave.”

“You’re my mate, my equal,” You pulled away and lifted his chin, so he met your gaze, “When I accepted the bond, I did it because I love you. Because I knew then what I know now.”

Eris tilted his head, “What is it that you know?”

You leaned in and kissed his nose, “You’re my Forever. I will always choose you.”

Eris smiled and pressed his lips on yours and you granted him access to deepen the kiss. His tongue met yours as he devoured your taste. You moaned in his mouth and felt his cock rise to attention against your ass. You began to move your hips to give the high lord the friction he craved, and he grunted in your mouth. His fingers threading through your hair as he dominated the kiss, his hand idly rubbing your stomach.

He pulled away from you needing air, “You’re mine and I love you.”

You laughed, “I figured, the child in my womb would have been a strong argument for both of those statements.”

Mischief danced in his eyes, “You know I am keeping track of all of your rule breaking for when I can properly punish you.”

You smiled and pecked his lips, sliding off his lap facing the door. Turning your head you winked, “I’m well aware, High Lord.” You untied the robe and let the pink silk fall to the floor turning back to face the High Lord. He admired your full body, and his heart rate began to quicken. “Now, may I show you how much I love you?" You got down on your knee’s hands braced on his thighs.

Eris began unlacing his pants a smirk on his face, “As you wish, High Lady.”

[tsunami-of-tears]

Breaking Traditions

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 6 (Celebration)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Not wanting to be ganged up on during the annual snowball fight with his brothers - Rhys introduces some new rules. 

Pairing Masterlist

Wordcount: 1K

Warnings: Reader feeling self-conscious, Cassian and Azriel are so sweet though.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Reader

The first Winter Solstice with your new family was upon you. You never celebrated the holiday in the Spring Court, but were buzzing with anticipation for the annual event after hearing the stories from your mates. They spoke of previous Solstices with so much joy, and you couldn’t wait to start making special memories with them. 

It’s the week before the holiday. Velaris is coated in a blanket of snow, while faelights and festive decorations adorn the houses and shopfronts throughout the city. You walk through the winding streets admiring the sights, bundled in many layers to keep out the winter chill. Music plays out across the market squares along with the sound of laughter as both children and adults play in the snow and go about their preparations. 

You were finishing up some shopping before making your way to the River House for a family dinner. 

Feyre greets you upon your arrival with Nyx standing by her legs. He takes your hand, chattering away about the toys he wants to get for Solstice as Feyre escorts you to the lounge where everyone has already gathered. 

Both Cassian and Azriel smile and sit up as you enter and take your usual seat between them, Nyx lets go of your hand to sit with his Auntie Elain. Azriel’s shadows swirl around you in greeting, the one he keeps with you at all times hurries back to its master to report on your outing.

Cassian leans over to whisper something filthy in your ear – he could use the bond but you both enjoy the possibility of someone else hearing – as Rhys clears his throat. He gives Cassian a pointed stare before turning to address the room. 

“As you all know, my brothers and I compete in an annual snowball fight. With the mating bond now in place between them, it wouldn’t be fair to continue the tradition the way it stands.”

Cassian and Azriel both call out their objections. “We’ve been doing this every year since we were children. We can’t just stop!!” “I think someone is afraid of competition…”

Rhys gives his brothers a feline grin, “I never said anything about stopping. I was merely suggesting a slight change in the rules.” 

“Okay Rhys, can you stop with the dramatics and get to the point?” Cassian mutters. 

Rhys sighs, picking at a strand on his lapel. “I propose that this year we play in teams. Cassian, Azriel and Y/N can be one team, playing for bragging rights against myself, Feyre Darling and Mor.” 

You lock eyes with Feyre and Mor who are too shocked to speak, none of you saw this change of rules coming. Cassian cheers beside you, turning your attention to his wide smile. 

You speak down the bond to both of your mates. ‘You’re both at a disadvantage, I’m not as strong as the others.’ 

Azriel reassures you silently, his hand resting on your thigh. ‘Don’t worry angel, we have a week to prepare.’

“As our family grows we can keep adjusting the teams,” Rhys says, reaching down to ruffle Nyx’s hair, the boy scrunches his nose at his father.

“Wow, Illyrians can change their ways,” Mor smirks. “I’ll pass on the naked birchin bonding though.” 

Your eyes widen. In all their stories, your mates had neglected that part. You can feel their gaze on you. ‘That’s the part we’re most looking forward to.’

————

Cassian and Azriel tried their best to get you ready for the snowball fight but you’d never seen snow before this Winter, and with only a week to practise you were unsurprisingly underprepared. 

You stayed out of most of the action, helping to replenish the snowball stockpiles with the help of the shadows and your mates keeping you shielded from the brunt of the attacks. 

Somehow, you still managed to come out on top. 

The scoring system seemed arbitrary and you weren’t sure how they kept track of the points or declared a winner. You decided you’d have to offer some suggestions before the next Solstice, but you wouldn’t argue the results this time.

Azriel carries you on his shoulders as he and Cassian perform their victory chant, white clouds floating from their mouths in the brisk air. Now that the battle is over, you all make your way inside to escape the frigid temperatures. Mor and Feyre trail behind with a crestfallen Rhys.

A fire roars to life in the hearth as you enter your shared bedroom in the cabin. You raise your hands in an attempt to warm your icy fingers but it’s no use. 

“Come here angel, we have a better remedy for the cold,” Azriel says, helping you remove your sodden clothes before taking off his own. 

Your eyes fall on your naked form in the mirror. Goosebumps cover your skin in between the many silvery scars courtesy of the Human Queens. You had become accustomed to Cassian and Azriel seeing them, but the thought of being so exposed in front of anyone else had your anxiety growing.

You must have been screaming your feelings down the bond, as Cassian is by your side a heartbeat later. He takes your hand in his, which is somehow warm despite the day in the snow. He kisses the back of your palm, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Each one shows how brave you are,” he murmurs. 

A moment later, Azriel is behind you, holding up a robe to cover yourself with and a sad, understanding smile on his face. You put your arms through the holes and Cassian helps to fasten the tie around you. He holds your face gently and leans down to give you a sweet kiss. “We’re both so proud of you,” he whispers against your lips. “You don’t have to do this next part if you don’t want to.” 

“It’s a tradition, I wouldn’t miss it.” 

Cassian kisses you again softly. “Just tell us if you want to leave, okay?” 

“Okay,” you agree, taking the hand of each of your mates in yours. “Let’s get warmed up,” you grin. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

A/N: I had planned to add some steamy birchin smut featuring Feyre x Reader but it’s just not coming together how I’d like it to. I’m feeling so frustrated with myself ☹️ I’ll leave this open to a potential Part 2 but no promises xx

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @coolepowersthings @therealmoonstone

[k-godling]

Welcome to the ACOTAR fandom!

I’d love your takes on the Archeron sisters!

Thank you, I’ve only really been properly in the fandom for a few months, but I HAVE THOUGHTS! This is also a warning that some of my thoughts are ‘hot takes’ in the fandom, but these are my thoughts.

Warning: This is heavy anti-Inner Circle

Nesta Archeron

Ok! We’re gonna start with the BIG one.

TL:DR - I love Nesta’s character. I think she’s complex and layered in a way that few other characters are (and in a way that I like).

Other characters that I think are layered/complex or are going to be include:

• Rhysand - I don’t like his layers, I think that if he stayed the morally greyish character he was in the first book, I would absolutely love him, but I hate the way that all of his bad deeds are excused because ‘I wear a mask’ and ‘it was for the greater good’… like I just want him be quiet sometimes.

• Eris - I can’t wait for his story. Because he also ‘wears a mask’ for the good of his ENTIRE COURT. And I think he is just what Rhys would’ve ended up like if he didn’t have the cushioning of the Velaris and the Inner Circle, but I think this is better. Eris doesn’t push blame or anything like that. I can’t wait to learn more about him.

• Elain - This is gonna be short cuz she has her own section, but I think she’s such a blank slate rn that I think she’s absolutely sizzling underneath. She’s got shit to say.

• Azriel - I need him to blow up and leave. And I know that’s dramatic and over the top but I NEED IT. In my opinion, he’s the most likely to do it, to rebel and get out of the Night Court, within the Inner Circle because he has the ‘ice that (Rhys) can’t thaw’ or something like that. And because we’ve seen Rhys and Az argue until Rhys has to pull rank, and I think that says a lot about how much Az’s personal loyalty effects him, because a lot of the time he listens because Rhys is his brother and High Lord, not because he agrees with him. Also I want to get into the nitty gritty of Azriel feelings (ALL OF THEM)… self hatred, desperation, abandonment issues.

ANYWAYS… I got off topic, but I like Nesta’s character complexity the most because it’s makes me think of how realistic her reaction to things were. Like the IC have been drinking, gambling, whoring about, and all the shit they’re accusing her of doing, FOR 500 YEARS, but she’s been doing it for a few months and suddenly it’s their biggest problem I’m the world. It’s also massively hypocritical she’s only been doing this for a few months, and it took Cassian 10 YEARS to recover after his mother died and he DESTROYED AN ENTIRE VILLAGE. But if Nesta did that she’d be the bad guy and get locked up.

IT WASN’T REHAB and I will stand by that. If locking her up in a building she cannot get out of, with a man she wants nothing to do with, who ends up have sex with her when she’s in a vulnerable enough state to need ‘rehab’, is the Inner Circle’s acceptable version of ‘helping’ the. I don’t even want to know what ‘healthy’ looks like to them, cuz it ain’t them.

Also, she’s not a mean/nasty person. She has a mirroring personality. She’s gives back what she’s given. It’s why the Valkyries love her so much, it’s why she’s friends with Azriel, it’s why she was civil with Eris before Cassian barged into their dance. Similarly, it’s why she doesn’t care for Amren (Amren cares for no one), it’s why she dislikes Mor (who has had a weird obsession with hating her and making her uncomfortable), it’s why she’ll never by in good terms with Rhys (he will never accept her into his ‘family’ without saying something at every moment he can, and she will always retaliate),

This would also effect her relationship with Feyre, because Feyre will put her Court relationships first (she puts their opinion above reason when dealing with her sisters, she only wanted to help Nesta because of how it made her look as High Lady). Another reason to further this point is the fact that they stuck Cassian up there with her, which in my opinion was to get her to soften up to the mating bond and make it easier to control her/her powers (orchestrated by Rhysand), and probably for ‘the better of the court’.

Speaking of Cassian, I hate him as her mate. I don’t think he likes her at all, definitely doesn’t love her, he just wants a mate. And they’re so incompatible thats their mating bond makes no sense. Why would the Cauldron give her a mate that she couldn’t genetically have kids with if the entire point of mates is to make the most powerful offspring, cuz before she changed her anatomy, she couldn’t have held his baby.

That’s where I’m gonna finish the Inner Circle but cuz I’m gonna get heated otherwise.

The only thing left is her with the Dread Trove. First of all, the Dread Trove currently only answers to her, therefore she should have control of how to use it, especially for when she thinks it should and shouldn’t be used. Same with her Made weapons, none of the Inner Circle should have authority or power over where those weapons go, and who should wield them, other than her, especially since no one else can even touch them.

Saying this, I understand Rhys’ rage about Nesta giving the Mask to Bryce. I understand both POVs because both were for what they believed to be right, WITH GOOD REASONS, and not just ‘it’s for the betterment of Prythian’ because both of their theories were possible to happen if she did or didn’t give the Mask.

HOWEVER, Rhys berating her the way that he did to point where someone had to step in and it WASN’T CASSIAN, but someone Nesta doesn’t even know, was sickening. I will never trust either of those two men to actually care about Nesta with sincerity and not with an ulterior motive.

This is where I’m gonna stop, because this is gonna end up to be long post.

Feyre Archeron

I’m gonna try make this as simple as possible.

• ACOTAR - I liked her

• ACOMAF - I was iffy about her

• ACOWAR - I hated her

• ACOFAS - I didn’t care for her

• ACOSF - I hated her

Just to be clear, I’m highly critical of Feyre, because the writing of her is inconsistent and contradictory, and I don’t think that it’s going to change.

Firstly, she has a panic attack and loses control when being locked up for ‘her own safety’, but then threatens to tie up and drag Nesta to the HoW if she refused? And that’s alright?

Let’s not forget that’s she’s a WAR CRIMINAL!!! The fact that she did everything she did in the Spring Court to get back at Tamlin, but it directly affected everyone in the Court EXCEPT FOR Tamlin (but it did later). And the fact that the Inner Circle was celebrating her for it.

PEOPLE LOST THEIR HOMES, THEIR BUSINESSES, THEIR LIVES. LITERALLY EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF HER. This is literally most of the reason that I cannot physically like her as a character. Because, at the end of the day, it’s doesn’t matter if ‘it was up to Tamlin’s decisions’ because she still caused it. That blood would still be on HER hands.

Also, HOT TAKE INCOMING, she shouldn’t be High Lady. She literally found out that far couldn’t lie within the same year/year and a half that she became High Lady. SHE KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT FAE. She basically JUST learned how to read ffs. And suddenly people who are over 500 years older have to listen to her orders when she knows nothing that shes talking about (specifically in reference to when she tells Azriel to pull out his spies and stop spying on Briallyn and he disagrees).

And how the Inner Circle expect the Court of Nightmares to respect her when the first time they’re introduced to her, she literally just know as Rhysand’s Whore, and gave him a lap dance, like I wouldn’t respect you either. Same goes for the people Under the Mountain, she was literally doing the same thing and suddenly they have to respect her cuz she’s in a position of ‘power’ (which I don’t believe is real btw, I think she’s only High Lady because Rhys gave her the title).

ALSO, I hate that everyone says she freed the Fae from Amarantha. No she didn’t, Tamlin did. Feyre bargained that if she finished the trials, or solved the riddle, it would free TAMLIN AND THE SPRING COURT, not everyone else. The only reason everyone else was free was because TAMLIN KILLED AMARANTHA.

(Also the fact that both her and Rhysand are still resentful of Tamlin even though he’s literally the entire reason they’re both still alive is fucking hilarious to me.)

I’ve already made the comments I wanted to make on her relationship with Nesta, and I can’t comment on her relationship with Elain because we haven’t seen enough of it on-page.

In my opinion, ACOTAR Feyre would absolutely hate ACOSF Feyre. What do you mean you have 5 houses? What do you mean you rule a court where 2/3’s of it are oppressed and girls’ virginities get sold to highest bidder and they get permanently mutilated, and you’ve done nothing but wear their wings like a costume? You’ve done nothing but basically encourage Hewn City to continue to brutalise their wives and daughters, and the cycle will never stop.

Then you can’t understand when people don’t want to live in your ‘perfect city’ that’s built in the backs of your other citizens, or work for you, when you do nothing for people who actually need it.

Also, I hate that she’s nosy af, and people just give her information, it politically makes no sense.

e.g. Eris spilling his guts about the night Lucien left Autumn, none of Feyre’s business because she obviously she doesn’t care about Lucien (but I’m not gonna get into that)

e.g. There was no need for Rhys to give Feyre Azriel’s backstory about his father and brothers, it makes no sense. Azriel is literally the most secretive person in the Night Court, I don’t think he’d just want you to spill his life story to someone who’s effectively a stranger, it doesn’t matter who you are.

e.g. Hiding Lucien’s real father from him and Helion, like wtf is going through your head, because now if they find out, there’s a possibility that the Night Court lose two allies, Day (Helion) and Autumn (Eris). Never mind Azriel and a blood duel, this damn secret is bad for you stupid political balance, but it’s not gonna go that way cuz SJM is so far up the Inner Circle’s asses, I’m surprised she’s not popping out the other end.

I’m gonna end this part here cuz it’s getting me heated and I don’t want to feel bad.

Elain Archeron

Ok, this part is going to be significantly lighter because I don’t have a lot of thoughts, but I will share some headcanons.

The reason this won’t be long is because I’m relatively ambivalent to canon Elain because I haven’t seen enough of her and her personality yet to have an informed opinion.

My opinion on the ship war thing is just that I don’t think she should even have a romantic relationship yet. I think she needs to find a place for herself in the world now that she’s fae, BEFORE she finds a significant other, because the other two sisters did it the other way and it’s now getting boring.

BUT, if I had to pick someone for her to be with, it would be Lucien, due to the fact that it’s impossible for me to see her with Azriel for the rest of her fae life, it makes no sense to me.

However, to plug any possible sort of future works I might do, I have crack ships of the Vanserras and the Archerons, but it’s not what you think.

I have a mini guilty pleasure ship of Eris x Elain, and Lucien x Nesta (but it has to be in the same universe, if you get what I mean)

With Elain x Eris, it’s because I have the theory that Elain is sizzling on the inside and is going to explode on the Inner Circle. Within this theory, I headcanon Elain to be sarcastically snarky (like Dorian/Lysandra from ToG) and can give Eris some his attitude back in playful way (which is a dynamic I love). And she gets violent when she needs to against people who try to hurt Eris, like when he NEEDS TO KILL BERON.

Also, I don’t think she’d be as sidelined in Autumn as she is in Night, because Eris takes care of the ENTIRE court, she could go around and ask for and give advice on how to grow certain flowers or crops because they’ll be a lot more farmers growing their own crops instead of importing them.

Also, in my opinion, Autumn Court is the most human court as of right now, which I think she would find comfort in, and it borders the Spring Court which I think she would love to visit.

Also in this headcanon, I think that she’d play a large part in Tamlin’s recovery and the revival of the Spring Court, which would be her path to possibly becoming a High Lady, of Spring if Tamlin abdicates or Autumn with Eris, if she would want either of these possibilities.

Lucien x Nesta should be obvious, I believe that SJM should have kept them mates. They would bounce off of each other well, he’d actually love her how she deserves to be loved, he’d probably act out whatever book scenes she’d want him to.

Anyways, those are my thought on the Archeron Sister - plus a few more tangents (sorry about that).

Also, I have an ACOTAR story planned, but it basically completely rewrites most canon events, so it’s an AU instead of a fanficion. Hints for it include azriel x oc, eris main character, Lucien main character, the dusk court, dragons, starborne power.

HOWEVER, in this AU, the other series will not exist. No Throne of Glass, no Crescent City. There will definitely be themes and passages used from those series, and names will be dropped (e.g. Ashryver) but it has nothing to do with this character, like Aelin won’t be mentioned at all as the Aelin from Throne of Glass.

Let me know if you want to see it xx

– Serenity 🤍

[sc11vb]

Hey guys! It’s your favourite Elriel. Today I’m here with some Elriel quotes I found while re-reading ACOMAF.

Let me start off by asking Gwynriels if they have actually read this book. Like … how can you read it and think that Azriel’s only after Elain for sex????

And also … as much as I do love Lucien, he was awful in this book. I get that he thinks Tamlin’s doing the right thing, and that he owes him - but Feyre’s his friend too.

All right, let’s get started. Spoilers ahead - so proceed with caution. And this is going to be a lengthy post; please bear with me.

Azriel had been in love with Mor for 500 years. This, we know.

“Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder as she dodged his outstretched wing. ‘Relax, Az—no fighting tonight. We promised Rhys.’

The lurking shadows vanished entirely as Azriel’s head dipped a bit.”

This is significant for so many reasons. Although this is an Elriel post and not a M/oriel one, you need to bear with me. At this point in the book, Az has not yet met Elain. He is still completely in love with Mor. And when she touches him—boom, his shadows disappear. We have GAs coming at us left and right because Az’s shadows vanish when Elain is around. They think that she’s washing away his true nature, whatever. And they insist that Elriel’s connection is either not there, or a romantic one. But they can admit that he loved Mor—so why can’t they realise that his shadows vanishing is not a bad thing.

“‘My father and mother, despite being mates, were wrong for each other … My mother was soft and fiery and beloved by everyone she met. She hated him after a time—but never stopped being grateful that he had saved her wings, that he allowed her to fly whenever and wherever she wished.’” - Rhys

Okay, we’ve got mated not being the right match for each other. GAs say that SJM is a fated mates author—and yes, the majority of her couples are all mates. But just the fact that “wrong for each other” was put in there—that’s pretty significant. Not all mates are a dream couple, and this is something that GAs need to learn.

“My sisters both stiffened at Cassian and Azriel, at those mighty wings tucked in tight to powerful bodies, at the weapons, and then at the devastatingly beautiful faces of all three males.

Elain, to her credit, did not faint.”

I don’t think this quote has too much Elriel in it, but just that last line from Feyre … Azriel is a frightening male. Handsome, but honestly scary. And although I’m 100 % sure that Feyre is underestimating Elain, I think that last quote is saying something, for sure.

“Elain rasped, ‘Nice to meet you,’ before hustling after her, the silk skirts of her cobalt dress whispering over the parquet floor.”

COBALT skirts?! We see you, SJM! You mean, cobalt like Azriel’s siphons?

And let me just ask the GAs—does this scream Gwyn and Azriel to you? I didn’t think so.

This quote is put down, over and over and over again, but obviously the message isn’t clear enough.

“‘And I think Elain—Elain would like it too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.’

I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.”

Elain and Az are the quieter ones. More civilised, as Feyre calls them in an earlier chapter. And yes, Feyre, I do agree that Elain and Az would be handsome together. Gosh, they might even make the best couple in this series, don’t you think? I’d certainly say so.

Look, nowhere am I saying that Elain and Az don’t want to have sex. In fact, I think they might be the freakiest of the ACOTAR couples. But when I say that sex isn’t the only thing they want to do or have together, I mean it. Soft moments like the ones Feyre thinks of—the gentle brushes of their hands as they walk by each other, the meeting of hazel and brown eyes—those are necessary to build their story. And they have those. A quick, longing glance in the corridor, only broken when they’re too far away.

The next ACOTAR book is going to be the best I’ve read, I think.

And here’s a bonus quote—just because I love you guys.

6. “‘Amren and Mor told me that the span of an Illyrian male’s wings says a lot about the size of … other parts.’

His eye shot to mine, then to pine-tree-coated slopes below. ‘Did they now.’

… ‘They also said Azriel’s wings are the biggest.’”

And we all know that Feyre’s telling the truth, right?

[cassiefromhell]

Bats and Fire: The Very Beginnings

What if we took y/n (who is, in this fic, a monster researcher/hunter) being mated to a couple acotar men... then made it all the acotar men (batboys, eris, lucien)....

So this was a silly joke. Then I wrote it. Then I realized that this could be multiple parts... so welcome to:

Bats and Fire

01 - The Very Beginnings

(this is such proof that i will write anything and i'm 6x more likely to write it if its MESSY and CHAOTIC)

Warnings: none

WC: 2k

Finding out you’re mated to all the ACOTAR men would be a doozy.

At first it’s Rhys, when you make eye contact with him while on a business visit in Velaris…

“I know,” you laugh, gently nudging your friend’s shoulder. “Boo hoo, you don’t like the Night Court. But it’s beautiful. We’ve been in worse places on business.”

“That’s tru— oh my cauldron, look who it is!” She points to the back of a man walking with a tall blonde woman, and you can immediately sense the power radiating off of him. He must be who you’re looking for: the High Lord of Night.

“Yes!” you grin, tightening your grip on the jar in your hands — which holds a very menacing pixie that has been stealing magic from residents of Prythian all over. The High Lord of Autumn had commissioned its capture, and you had tracked it back to night, and well… here you were.

“Lord Rhysand!” you call out, gracefully sliding your way through the crowd. “Lord Rhysand, I must speak with you!”

Someone bumps into you, and you stumble, crashing straight into the High Lord’s chest. 

“You bellowed?”

“Yes, yes— sorry, my Lord. But you see, this pixie—”

But then you look up, meeting his stunning violet-blue gaze.

You drop your jar, and it shatters on the cobblestone ground, the pixie exploding out of the rubble, trying to make a break for it. The creature is immediately surrounded by darkness, unable to make its grand escape.

“You’re…” you whisper, covering your mouth with a hand. 

“…My mate.”

Cassian and Azriel came shortly after. You and Rhys got close quickly, so why wouldn’t you be introduced to his friends?

“Darling?” Rhysand says, glancing around the room, his eyes finally landing on you. “Oh, good— you’re all ready. Remember that it’s cold, so wear plenty of layers—”

You blink up at him, gesturing to the not one, not two, not three, but four layers he’s made you put on. “Rhys. I’m going to be very warm. I’ve been to the Illyrian mountains on hunting trips before and I can confirm that this is too much.”

“It’s gotten colder in recent years.”

“Sure.”

Rhys grins, kisses the side of your head, and takes your hand. “Ready? We won’t be there for two long, I just want to do a little surveillance with the camps and introduce you to my brothers while we’re there.”

With a quick nod, you’re  enveloped by darkness and wind. And then it all fades, and chill air bites at your cheeks and nose.

Rhysand holds you close to his side as you trudge through the snow. You wrap your coats tighter around yourself, leaning into his warmth.

And then you feel it.

You freeze.

An electric connection stuns you, seeming to form at your heart and spread through your chest. 

And then another.

You reluctantly look over your shoulder, cursing when you see them. Two tall Illyrian males, staring at you. They definitely know. And you have the gut feeling that these two males are the Cassian and Azriel that Rhys told you about.

“Ah, look, there they are,” Rhys grins, waving towards the two males, who have both started in your direction.

This is your moment: fight, flight, or freeze? Your heart pounds in your chest—they’re getting closer—and the crowd is so thick with people…

As a monster researcher and hunter, you’ve never fled once in your life.

…But now is a fantastic time to start.

“Restroom,” you blurt, and then sprint from Rhys’s side, burying yourself in the crowd of taller Fae and wings and fur coats.

You weave between the people, attempting to mask your scent, and then burst into a small corner shop. A bakery, filled with the smells of bread and pastries. Perfect to cover your trail.

You walk up to the counter, fishing out a few coppers. “Do you have anything particularly smelly?”

The baker raises a brow, his wings shifting behind him as he gives you a once-over dripping with judgment. “Excuse me?”

“Love?”

You curse under your breath at the sound of Rhys’s voice. And then you slowly turn around, finding your mate… and your other two mates.

So you face your fate.

The Illyrians were easy to love. You got to know them in a matter of weeks, but you had other jobs to attend to, and was soon in the Autumn Court, where you had to finally turn in that damned pixie to High Lord Eris…

Are you sure you feel safe there? Azriel asks down the bond. One of us can come and accompany you.

Yes, you confirm. All is well. I’m just turning in this little beast. I’ll be back before sundown.

He sent you a wave of love, paired with a sarcastic you have fun with that.

So here you are, climbing a ladder to get to the top level of the Autumn palace. It’s built like a treehouse, with ladders separating the levels unless you’re nobility or a special guest, in which case you get to use the fancy-dancy wooden staircases in the center. 

But being a monster specialist is pretty damn far from nobility. So you get the ladders route.

You decide that you hate this place.

Hoisting yourself up onto the final platform, where the throne room is, you climb to your feet. 

A guard gives you a dirty look, holding out a spear to stop you in your path. “Female. State your name and business.”

You say your name, and hold up the jar containing a very angry pixie. “The High Lord commissioned this pixie’s capture. Now, if you’ll let me go, this Tinkerbelle is very eager to find an escape route.”

“You didn’t give advance warning of your visit.”

“I sent word a month ago,” you snarl, baring your teeth.

His spear strikes you quicker than your Fae reflexes can react. It collides with your cheek, sending you stumbling back, blood rushing down your jaw.

“What in Prythian are you doing, Magus?” an unfamiliar male voice enters the encounter, and you immediately see boots approaching.

“She was trying to force her way in—”

“Liar,” you hiss. You wipe away the blood and face the guard once more, free hand tightening on the pixie jar. “I have proper certification, if you would just let me—”

“She’s aggressive, your majesty.”

Your majesty?

You look up at the male who had approached. You’re met with a golden-skinned male, with a  scar through one eye and a whirring, mechanical eyeball. When he too looks at you, you feel the slightest… ittiest bittiest… tug.

Shit.

His jaw drops, long ginger hair falling over his shoulder. “You’re…”

The doors to the throne room swing open, revealing a male that looks like your newfound fourth mate. But he’s wearing a crown, so he must be the High Lord that you came for.

And when his stunning copper eyes turn to you, it happens.

For the fifth time.

“Nope,” you say, throwing the jar in High Lord Eris’s direction. “Nope. Not again. Not doing this.”

With that, you turn on your heel, starting back towards the ladder.

“Wait,” the first male jumps in front of you, eyes glimmering. “You’re… you’re my mate.”

“What do you mean?” Eris jumps in, stepping into view and rapidly approaching. “She’s my mate.”

“See, so there’s this phenomenon,” you start, gritting your teeth. “I already have three mates. I don’t feel the need for another two. The Mother is cruel and she thinks that building me a harem is great entertainment. But you two are officially out. Capishe?”

The two males looked at eachother, and then back to you—

But you were gone.

We have an issue, you stated down the bond to your Illyrian mates.

You knew that blocking out two mates would not work. And it didn’t. They sent you flowers and gifts, and... oh, the gifts... such expensive and exquisite things... for weeks, until you caved… and called a meeting for all of your mates.

You sit in silence at The House of Wind’s dining table, monitoring the males’ expressions. They're all glaring at each other. The Mother definitely could have given you a less… volatile… group.

“Okay,” you start, scratching the back of your neck. “So… I think this is it.”

“I’d like to put it on the record that you said you were sure we were all last time,” Cassian grits out, wings rigid at his back. 

“This is different. Now, we need to go over rules, boundaries… anything that comes to mind?”

“Separated court times,” Lucien starts, seeming rather open to the situation. “Eris and I manage the Autumn Court, and these three are always in Night, so it makes sense to do a week-on, week-off schedule.”

“Her work requires her to travel,” Azriel joins in, twirling Truth-Teller in his hand. “You couldn’t expect her to just stay in your court for a week at a time.”

“Of course he didn’t mean that,” Eris snarls, ear twitching. “He meant during her off time.”

“I could—” you try to join in, but it doesn’t really work out for you.

“I plan on making her my High Lady, which she has already agreed to,” Rhysand growls. “So she’ll be spending a lot of time in the Night Court.”

Cassian nods, joining in. “And we don’t want her to give up her passions. Which seems to be what you want. So she’ll be either at the Night Court or traveling. You two can… visit… her.”

“I really wouldn’t mind—”

“And what if I want her to be my High Lady?” Eris stands, lips pulling back as he faces Rhys. “Perhaps she’d prefer to reside in a more respectable court than Night.”

That prompts both Azriel and Cassian to stand, growling and wings flaring. “You’re a piece of scum and she does not deserve to be tied to the likes of you,” Azriel responds, bitterness and anger dripping in his tone.

“Have you lost all your dignity?” Lucien shoots to his feet too, and Rhys follows suit.

They start yelling. And arguing. And every time you try to cut in, they ignore you.

So you conjure up something that should get their attention.

“Contraceptive brews!” you shout, throwing your arms in the air.

Sure enough, the males go silent, turning to look at you.

“Sit down.”

And they all do.

Like puppies taking a command.

“Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel and I have all agreed that the males take the contraceptive brews. I have a rigorous travel schedule that often includes random overnights in the woods or mountains while hunting or researching, so I don’t always have access to them,” you explain, gesturing to the Illyrians.

Eris raises a brow. “Wouldn’t it make sense for you to just carry it with you rather than all five of us taking—”

“Drink the brew or you don’t get it,” Cassian growls, making a lewd gesture.

“New rule. No more fighting. It’s overwhelming and stupid.” you announce, taking the ribbon out of your hair and putting it in the middle of the table. “This is the Talking Ribbon. When you want to talk, you must have the ribbon. Else you shut the fuck up.”

“That is your—”

“Rhys. Talking Ribbon.”

Rhys obediently takes the ribbon, then tries speaking again. “This is your favorite ribbon. I wouldn’t risk this being used… it could get torn.”

Lucien takes the ribbon gingerly, and then faces you. “Then we will not tear the ribbon. Right, everyone?”

The males all nod.

You sigh, and then gesture around the group. “My time will be spent as I please. Now, I think I’ve been here for as long as I need to, so you five can work out the details on your own.” You stand, and walk away from the table.

“Love,” Rhys calls after you. “Love, I think that maybe we would benefit from your presence—”

“I can’t always be your mediator. I have a Wyrm to hunt. Good night.”

And you leave the males to grumble amongst each other.

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Read 02 HERE

[delulustateofmind]

A City of Dreamers [Part One]

Series Summary: ModernAU of ACOTAR, Azriel breaks away from the small town of Windhaven to escape his toxic family and chase his dreams with his newfound family. Leaving behind his small-town life for new ventures in Velaris. 

[Part One]{Part Two]

Work Count: 1.5K

Trigger warnings: Tabaco use and trauma mentioned, I think that's it!

Another night, another nightmare. Azriel awoke to the gentle sunlight creeping through his window, emitting a small groan as he stretched amidst the boxes littering his bedroom, remnants of his recent move taking a toll on him. Another task he needed to complete to a list that already seemed endless. 

Three years prior, Rhysand, fresh out of university, pitched the idea of starting a tech company called ‘Night Corp.’ Rhysand’s father, a real estate mogul, agreed to fund the venture under the condition it operated in Velaris. As the company prospered, they moved into an apartment closer to work. 

The company ‘Night Corp’ is the biggest in technology. Booming after a year of the three of the ‘brothers’ working eighty-hour weeks. Azriel running the programming and hardware side. Cassian working on management and dealing with the paperwork. While Rhysand was the face, he made sure to bring in the investors and funding. Over time, the company grew larger and larger. Which led to the boys moving into an apartment closer to work. 

The apartment boasted amenities, including separate bathrooms and balconies for each room. Azriel found solace in his smoke breaks on the balcony, appreciating the alone time overlooking the city with a faint scent of tobacco in the air. Cassian however would always chastise him for smoking, but old habits are hard to die out. 

Struggling with the sleepless nights fueled by long coding sessions and haunting memories, Azriel joined Cassian in the kitchen. Finding Cassian making breakfast and doing a small dance as he jammed out to his booming music. 

Azriel moved past him to start his morning coffee, much deserved from the late night he had. Cassian shot him a big grin. 

“There’s a boxing gym nearby if you want to check it out with me later today,” Cassian mentioned as he removed his headphones. 

Azriel shook his head, his messy dark curls bouncing. “I need to ensure the program is fine for the next big launch. Security reasons” Azriel shrugged. “I’ll check it out later with you some other time.” 

Cassian raised a brow. “You know, Az, you don’t have to work yourself to the bone anymore. We’ve got a solid team now. Gone are the days of us slaving away in Rhys’ mom’s basement. Remember, you hired the best from Velaris Tech. Let them shoulder some of the load.”

Azriel shrugged, pouring his coffee and taking a sip. “I’ll think about it” 

It’s true, that Azriel did seek out some of the best programmers for the business. A business that started in a business that now had several major buildings around Prythian. While Velaris remains to be headquarters. 

Rhysand, already at the office, tasked Mor, who was already busy as the marketing director, to find him a personal assistant. Signaling the start of yet another busy day at Night Corp. 

*****

In an apartment two doors down from the boys lived Feyre and Y/n. Childhood best friends who grew up in a small town together that later reconnected. Both of them had faced their challenges.

Feyre is one of three sisters. The oldest was Nesta a famous ballet dancer, one of the best in all of Prythian who frequently traveled, rarely visited unless for the holidays. The middle child, Elaine, worked as a florist in the Springs. However, she did visit more frequently than Nesta. Feyre was the youngest and unfortunately, her father already exhausted most of his income on his other two daughters, leaving Feyre to figure her life out on her own.  

Feyre never was able to go to college unless she wanted copious amounts of debt. Though her artwork was enough to pay for rent, her income wasn’t stable enough. Some months were better than others, leaving Feyre in the middle of applying for a position as a personal assistant, there was no guarantee she would even get an interview without a degree. She was still going to give it her best shot. The job paid well enough that she could start saving up for her studio and be able to pay rent. 

Y/n on the other hand, inherited her parents' coffee shop. After they had passed away, left her with nothing but the deed to a business that she never knew her folks owned. Y/n spent her days tirelessly researching how to even run a business and while sorting through her emotions of losing her parents- cleaned up the place. From time to time Feyre would come and help. Painting the walls, even including a beautiful mural of the Sidra River on one of the walls. After a year of opening the business, the income was stable enough that she could hire a full staff.

The coffee house was unique in a way that instead of being open in the early hours of the morning, the cafe would instead be open late into the night. Allowing night owls like herself to feel the comfort of a good cup of coffee.

It was late afternoon when y/n woke up, she had worked a double late night shift after one of her managers called out. Climbing out of bed, groggy, hoping that her staff could handle the shipment coming in today, reluctantly checked her phone. Finding no calls from the afternoon staff, she considered it to be a small success, a small smile appeared on her face before walking into the living room to find Feyre on her ancient laptop typing away at her resume. 

“Morning” Feyre murmured with her brows furrowed in concentration as she slowly typed away. 

“Morning. Didn’t Tamlin get you the latest model from Night Corp?” y/n murmured sleepily. Taking a spot next to Feyre on the couch. 

“He did, but…” A deep sigh escaped Feyre’s lips “We broke up” she reluctantly met y/n gaze. “He proposed and I said no…” her face showed regret as she didn’t meet y/n’s curious glance. 

Y/n gazed at her, a look of pity for her friend on her face as she leaned her head onto Feyre’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Feyre. What made you turn him down?” 

“Funny thing is, Tam wanted a traditional housewife. Someone to plan parties, wear fancy dresses, and be pampered” Feyre explained, her tone tinged with sadness. “That’s just not me, I need room to grow. He was kind, but I think I really hurt him y/n” She shook off the sadness and continued with determination “So, I’m applying to Night Corp for a personal assistant position. How hard could it be?” 

“I’m here for you if you need anything…with the whole Tamlin situation. But I have to say, I’m proud of you for coming to that conclusion about what you want in life. That wasn’t an easy decision I’m sure.” Y/n gave her a soft smile before laughing softly. “You? Applying to a tech company, Feyre you had to ask me the other day how to download an app on your phone. Feyre you still use BuzzFeed!” Feyre playfully nudged y/n. 

“Buzzfeed will always have a special place in my heart, how else am I supposed to know what kind of pizza my zodiac sign is?” Feyre said with a chuckle “But seriously, the job pays well, and it can’t be that challenging, right? Plus, they’re on the rise. Word on the street is that their main office has a slide! How cool is that?” 

“I wish you the best of luck, I know you would nail that interview” Y/n grinned before getting up to get ready for her shift. “I have to be in early today, to help with the truck order. Let me know if you get a call from them, we can go celebrate!” Feyre gave a warm smile before slowly typing away at her cover letter. Feyre was absolutely awful with anything technology-based. 

After an hour of getting ready, y/n waved goodbye to Feyre and headed out the door. Locking the door to the apartment and heading down the hallway. Scrolling through her phone she bumped into someone. 

“Sorry,” she stammered before peering up at the man before her. Dark raven black hair with a slight curl that almost covered his eyes, a black face mask that hid most of his face, and hazel eyes that resembled burnt honey. He was beautiful, a classically handsome man. The man peered down at her roughly a whole foot taller and said in a voice that was so deep it sounded sinful. 

“You’re alright,” he murmured before gliding past her down the hallway back to his apartment. The sultry voice sent shivers down her spine. A blush had warmed her cheeks before she made her way to the elevator, their brief encounter replaying in her mind. Seemingly hypnotized by the deep voice, a melody she deeply wanted to hear again. 

Azriel returning from his run, sliding in the front door of the shared apartment, couldn’t shake the comforting scent of vanilla and coffee the girl exuded. 

[redheadspark]

hi i wanted to request from the august prompt list, i think number 8 would be absolutely great with Azriel from acotar! thank you love your writing always :)

A/N - AWWW This is so sweet! Thanks for the request, Anon!

Pace

Summary - Azriel was and will always be willing to go at your own pace.

Warnings - Nothing but fluff

“You doing okay back there?”

“Oh sure…you know….hiking was the best idea at the time,”

Azriel had to chuckle as you were trying to catch your breath while he was up head on the wide trail path.  The war sun was on your back and making you sweat into your tank top and workout pants, the cooler wind coming along from the high peaks to give you come kind of relief, but of course you are struggling immensely. 

Although it was a great idea at the time, you were not mentally kicking yourself.  What were you thinking?

You loved being Azriel’s mate, you truly did.  But the fact that he was constantly working out and staying in shape would seem like a chore to you in comparison to him.  He had to be in tip top shape as the Spymaster of Velaris and Night Court, his own physique was amazing to stare at.  You weren’t gong to lie and say you didn’t like gazing at your mate, you did.  

Yet at the same time, you were no workout fiend.  

A good hike or walk a few times a week was good enough for you, Azriel never had a problem with that.  He preferred you to be happy in your own skin and with how to felt about your body and your health than to try and keep up with him.  You loved cooking food that was hearty and filled with amazing spices and warmth, Azriel devoting every mela you made him and he would leave no scrapes behind.  You would prefer to lounge in bed or on the couch than join him in the wee hours in the morning for a training session at the Illyrian camps, yet that never bothered him.  You both were so in tuned with one another after 200 years of being mates and being married.

You suggesting hiking to a small river bank to go swimming together, it was both a blessing and a curse.

“Hey, you okay?” Azriel asked as he looked over his shoulder at you.  You waved him off and perhced yourself on a large boulder that was on the side of the trail, needing to catch your breath for a long moment since you were loosing your momentum.  You were only 1 mile away from the riverbank, already walking for 2 miles at a decent pace.  

“I just need to catch my breath,” You reasoned as he walked back over to you briskly and took off his backpack to find his water bottle and spare cloth in his bag, “It’s been awhile since we’ve hiked—“

“Drink, baby,” He said to you as he placed the water bottle on your hands, you draining in long drinks as he rubbed your thighs and arms calmly, “We can slow down, we don’t have to go this fast, okay?  I can even carry you the last mile if you want,”

Shaking your head and taking the water bottle off of your lips, “Az, I’ll be fine for the last mile..”

“I don’t mind at all,” He said to you as he swatted away some of the sweat from your forehead and pushed the hair from your eyes, “This hike was great idea….but maybe on a cooler autumn day and not during a heatwave,” 

You had to grin, knowing that it was true as Azriel went on, “Plus, I can feel it in the bond,”

It was both a blessing and a curse that you two were connected through your bond.  You sensed when he was tired after training at the Illyrian camps for hours on end, when he was frustrated or angry after dealing with the Inner Circle during an intense meeting.  He also felt it in you when you were pushing yourself a bit over the edge and within limits.  Azriel knew you were stubborn and you held your ground at times, and he knew when to calm you and bring you breath again.  

When you wanted to rush, he would slow you down and make you pace yourself.  When you wanted to go at a snail pace when making a decision, Azriel was right at your side and took your hand whole heartedly.  He would never leave you ahead or behind, not without him.  You both were each other’s better half, through the good and the bad.

“Sorry for slowing us down,” You were about to apologize, when Azriel was now the one shaking his head.

“Nope, you’re not going to say you’re sorry.  Nothing wrong with stopping and taking a break, right?  Come on, hope on my back and let me carry you,” He reasoned as he took his backpack and threw it over your shoulders to have your arms go through.  

“That’s not necessary,” You started to argue.

“You and I both know I can carry you since your light as a feather to me, or do I need to remind you of our honeymoon?” He teased with you with a wink, having you blush crimson as he then turn to show his backside to you.  His wings tucked in tightly against his back, you rolled your eyes and hopped on his back with ease.  As your legs were around his waist and your arms around his neck, his wings snug between you two while he stood up gracefully, he started walking with your plastered to his backside. 

“I feel like a monkey right now,” You grumbled as Azriel chuckled and kept his pace going along the path, as if you weight no more than a pebble on his back.

“And yet you’re sexier than a monkey,” He replied, pinching your thigh around his waist as you squealed and smacked his arm playfully.  Azriel loved going at your pace, no matter how fast or slow you were willing to go.

The End

August Prompts

[anarchiii]

World’s apart-8 —ACOTAR x TOG AU

Part eight | warnings: angst, Dorian. . . | Azriel x Celaena Sardothien

Summary; Pain and suffering one after the other, Azriel decides that maybe he’s not meant for this world, but maybe he is meant for another…

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Disclaimer; Nehemia doesn’t exist in this world, okay?

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Celaena’s POV

The only sounds were the dripping of melting ice from the remnants of winter, spring finally making an appearance, and the sounds of pages flipping accompanied by the soft snoring of Fleetfoot beneath her feet.

Her eyes burned from hours of scanning books, now, she just saw the words not really reading them, “we should take a break, we’ve been at this for hours.” Azriel said from where he was lounging next to her. Those mysterious glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, one of those lovely scarred hands of his held the Walking Dead, the book appearing in their room late on night, his other hand rubbing her sock covered feet from where she had carelessly put them on his lap. Celaena made a contemplative sound in response. Putting down the book she was scanning and getting off the bed, not noticing how Azriel’s hands had tightened on her feet as if he hadn’t wanted to let them go before he eventually did.

Celaena let out a comical yawn and stretched her arms out wide, the male behind her watching her move, although his gaze could be unnerving sometimes, it was also comforting, it was nice to know someone was watching her back. Something a friend would do.

And the Gods knew she could use a friend, even if Azriel wasn’t around long, his company was still nice.

Celaena was nearly out the door, walking past Dorian, when Azriel grabbed her hand, forcing her to turn around, she practically fast-planted into his chest but looked up at him anyway. Finding his piercing gaze on her once more. She couldn’t describe the way he looked at her, there were so many emotions swimming around in those pools of whiskey, he looked at her in a way no one had before, not even her own parents. He looked at her as if he saw her. Saw her and was not afraid. . .

He cleared his throat, his grip still tight but not painful, his scars touching her own, “you forget shoes—and a jumper,” he said, his voice clear. “Right. Of course,” she said, still looking at him.

Both of them stood there, watching eachother intently, breaths mingling from how close they were to one another, Celaena’s gaze flickered from his lovely eyes to his lips, and wondering how they would feel against hers.

It was complete silence for a few minutes before another throat was cleared, this time coming from the couch, Dorian, they both whipped their heads to the prince, finding him rapidly blinking and smiling slightly, “am I interrupting something? If so, I can be quiet, ” He said. His voice gravely from lack of water. Celaena pulled away from Azriel and picked up a glass of water that had been sitting on a small table and handed it to Dorian, sitting down next to him as he drank deeply from the glass.

“How are you feeling?” She said after an uncomfortable few minutes of silence, the prince put down the glance and turned to face her, she winced slightly at his expression, “I’ve been better, but not bad. Honestly. It was nice to get to sleep in. Though, I have to ask, how did no one find out where or why I was gone for what. . . Two days—” “three, three days,” Azriel cut in. Dorian looked to the male finally. Frowning deeply at him before turning back to her.

“Uh,” shit, how had she kept everyone from asking questions? That hadn’t even crossed her mind, not good, Celaena would have to look into that. Later.

She gave her friend—or whatever she called him—her fakest smile, watching as he huffed, clearly pleased, she knew without looking that Azriel saw straight through that smile. “I have my ways.” She said simply, getting up from the couch and groaning as her knees ached, her knees had never been good. But they had gotten especially worse in the past few months. She’d simply chalked it up to the weather.

She walked out of the room, leaving them in there alone, she needed a break from this and even though Celaena’s walk had been interrupted, that didn’t mean she couldn’t do something to take her mind off things, bath it was, she turned the tap on and watched patiently as the water poured into the tub. Steam rising up to meet her face.

She put a variety of soaps and scented things in the bath before getting it, instantly calming at the heat, hot things had always had a way of doing that, Arobynn had wanted to see how much heat I could handle, faint burn marks on her arms as proof of his curiosity, Celaena swished around the water. Watching the water flow over and around her skin. It felt cleansing almost.

If she could even be cleansed, that is.

The knocking on the bathroom door pulled her out of her thoughts, “come in,” she said, not looking at who it was, hopefully it wasn’t Dorian, because it would end up with him in this bath with her. Whether she wanted him in with her or not. She had not a clue what that man saw in her, then again, he could fall for a pebble and be okay with it, he probably was.

She heard the door open and someone walk in, their footsteps near silent, Azriel then, Chaol didn’t possess the gift of silence.

A sharp inhale of air made her turn around to find Azriel staring at her, no, not her, her back.

-

Azriel’s POV

He couldn’t stop staring at her back, it was brutalised, he wasn’t disgusted by it, Cauldron no, he was furious. Furious that someone had done that to her. When he found the person that did this to her. . .

“You’re staring,” Celaena said blankly, there was fear in her eyes, fear that she would be judged, he knew that feeling all too well. “Who did this to you?” Azriel asked quitely. Not straying from the skin, it looked like whip marks, he only knew that because he had inflicted them before, he still heard the cracking when he slept—or tried to—“I was. . . I was a slave, in Endovier, a salt mine. When I stopped or didn’t exceed in my job the Overseer would use his whip. He would sometimes use it even when I had behaved.”

There was red hot anger coursing through Azriel as he thought of all the ways he could repay that Overseer— “he’s dead,” she said, reading his thoughts, “since he gave me a metal tipped whip for my eighteenth birthday, I gave him a picaxe in the stomach for his.” He blinked at the calm fury so blatant on her face, “good girl,” he said, a slight smile on his face, she didn’t return it, simply turning around again.

Sensing that she wasn’t in the mood for talking, he left, heading for their bed.

-

Azriel was reading when Celaena finally came out of the bathroom, her hair dripping wet, with only a towel wrapped around her, she crawled into bed, turning her back on him, perhaps he had asked too much about her past. If she had been in Endovier when she was eighteen then it had only been a year since. It had taken Azriel centuries to even be able to look at his hands, how could he expect her to open up so soon?

He blew out the candle and laid down, he stared up at the ceiling for a while, perhaps a few hours, it wasn’t until he felt her shivering that he strayed from his thoughts, Celaena pulled the blankets tighter around herself but still shook, he had a feeling the cold she was experiencing was not from the temperature, a different sort of cold. A wicked sort.

Before he knew what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, his chest meeting her back, he held her tighter until the shivering stopped, but when he went to let go, he found she would not let go, instead moving as close to Azriel as she could, and he could’ve sworn a smile bloomed on her face when he didn’t stop her.

The End.

-Taglist

@azrielslittleslut

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@aelincaddel

[areyoudreaminof]

ACOTAR GIFT EXCHANGE

Beyond: a Helion x LoA fic for @spell-cleavers

For the @acotargiftexchange I was thrilled to write this fic for @spell-cleavers who just so happens to be one of my very favorite people. Getting to know her over the course of this year has been such a joy, so I wanted to writer her something special. And by special, I mean I wrote my first ever smut scene. Can you believe?? Special thanks to @iambutmortal and @rosanna-writer for the beta help, and @separatist-apologist for allowing me to have a fun little cameo.

The Lady of Autumn has agreed to come live at the Autumn Court, though seems hesitant. Can Helion convince her that she belongs at his side?

And here's a little playlist!

She shines me up like gold on my arm I wanna take it slow but it's so hard I love to see her face in daylight It's more than just our bodies at night

Do you think I'm being foolish if I don't rush in?

Beyond-Leon Bridges

MORNING: 

Helion Spell-Cleaver was feeling a bit unhinged. It wasn’t a surprise, since he had been looking forward to this for centuries. But still, he was teetering on the edge of his sanity. 

It couldn’t have been a more perfect day, though. The sun rose over the Day Court, cloudless skies stretching from the far valleys and hills in the east to the rocky coast and the city of Naxopolis. Groves of orange and fig trees surrounded the sandstone palace, brushing up against its white pillars and walls. The smells of citrus and trees were deepened by the warmth from the sun and a cool breeze from the turquoise sea. From the balcony, Helion watched the early morning sunlight reflect off the waves like small golden flecks. The room was peacefully quiet and open. Helion was certain when he had chosen the large and spacious suite, she would love it. 

Now, he wasn’t so sure. 

She had never seen the sea, she had told him once, many, many years ago, when they had only met under cover of darkness in the far corners of the Autumn lands. He chose the large wing of rooms as soon as she had agreed to move to the Day Court. Helion wanted a fresh start for them both. 

They had each other again. They had their son, Lucien, who had agreed to stay too. Though, Helion would admit only to himself that he wasn’t letting his son and his mate out of his sight again. Never again would Thérèse be stuck in Autumn, never again would she be under anyone’s control. The members of his court were thrilled when he had found Lucien, and they were equally as thrilled when Helion announced his mate would finally come home. 

But as he heard the soft cries of morning gulls, and the city coming to life below him, Helion’s doubts slithered back into his mind. 

Will she even like it here? Will she ask Eris to take her back? She left once. 

Yes, but that was to save us, and to save our son.  Helion reminded himself as he took steadying breaths to calm his speeding heart. And I am not that monster. I will never force her. I am at her service. 

A soft knock at the door brought him back to the morning. Costis, his butler, entered with a soft robe of linen in his arms. The satyr’s hooves clicked sharply on the tile, as he draped the ivory fabric chiton across a chair. 

“Good Morning, my Lord. We’ve received word from Velaris, and the Lady Thérèse will be arriving with your son and his mate promptly at eleven o’clock.” Costis announced, crossing the room to bow. “Her personal items will be sent here. 

Helion nodded once, quickly attempting to clear his mind. “Is everything else in order?” 

“Yes, your Grace. The food is being prepared as well as the smaller dining balcony in the northwest wing. Nothing much is happening in the city, and The Magus has predicted fine weather for today. Perfect to show Lady Thérèse her new home,” the satyr said as he removed the sleeping robe from Helion’s shoulders. “I can send up for breakfast, unless you prefer to wait.” 

“I’ll wait, thank you,” Helion said. He hardly had an appetite anyway. 

Costis began to dress Helion, expertly wrapping the toga around him. The soft mix of linen and cotton promised a warmer day, the fabric hitting just above his knees. Enough to tempt, but not enough to scandalize. As Costis fetched his sandals, Helion removed the silk wrap from his head, satisfied that his hair still looked perfect. He had removed the ornaments from his locs for the occasion, instead opting for a small golden thread woven throughout his hair, tying it back with a leather strap. Helion placed a golden sun band on each bicep, cuffs on his wrists, and the small bronze ring Thérèse had given him five centuries ago. Striding to the mirror, Helion took in his reflection. He wore no crown, his toga was simple, and he was unadorned. He looked like the same male that went to the Equinox ball all those centuries ago. 

The sharp clang of steel and bronze bells from the Magus’s tower rang, indicating it was half past ten. Helion straightened and took a deep breath. He had been planning this day for weeks, no, centuries. He was ready. “Costis, remind me of the possible itinerary I had drawn up.” 

READ THE REST ON AO3

[acourtofladydeath]

Poly+ ACOTAR Week Day 1: Beginnings

All his life Nyx has been raised by his parents, Rhysand and Feyre, and their mate Tamlin. One day he decides to ask him mom how their bonds snapped and she is more than happy to oblige.

Inspired by the storytelling in "The Princess Bride" and "How I Met Your Mother" this is angsty, fluffy fun.

So excited to kick off the first day of @polyacotarweek with one of my favorite trios, Feytamsand. Start reading below, or read the entire fic on AO3 here!

“Mom!” I shouted through the hall of the River House. It was her day off, which probably meant she was painting. The River House had a state of the art studio for her to work in, but she typically painted wherever inspiration struck. Which means she could be anywhere. 

The house was entirely too large. Something I loved growing up when I wanted to hide, but hated when I needed to find them. Sure, we could mind speak, but once I walked in on my parents having daemati sex, something I literally didn't know existed before then. After that, I refused to communicate that way unless there was an emergency. 

“In here Nyxie!” She called back from the library at the end of the hall. It had a huge window overlooking the Sidra and sunset. Throughout the day light cast through the window, ricocheting through the room. As it traveled it glanced across the wide array of books, some gilded and some plain, painting the floor in its own way. With the kaleidoscope of colors and dancing light, it was one of mom’s favorite spots to paint. Aunt Nes spent most of her time here when she visited, but today it was just mom. 

“What’s up, baby?” Mom said as I walked in. Covered head to toe in paint, she turned to look at me and wiped even more on her apron and one of her mate’s old shirts. Now which one, I wasn’t quite sure. But judging by those giant, billowy sleeves and the gauzy white linen fabric I had a pretty good guess. 

“I’m not a baby anymore,” I scoffed from the doorway. There was no way I’d get any closer to her like this. Last time she hugged me while painting it took three baths to get it all off and my clothes had to be burned. 

“Nyx you are thirteen, you are definitely still my baby. Even a hundred years from now you’ll still be my baby. I’m your mother, that’s how it goes.” She smiled softly at me then, one of those smiles that told me she was thinking about the past and the future all at once. They were my favorites. 

“What did you need? Or did you just want to watch me paint?” My mom asked, slight worry in her eyes. I’d never been great at schooling my expressions like dad was, mom and I had that in common. We both wore our emotions on our sleeves for all to see. 

I sighed, settling in to ask the question that had been gnawing at me for some time now. “One of the kids at school said something today that bothered me,” I rubbed at the muscles in the back of my neck with one hand, my gaze cast down on the floor as I tried to find the right words. 

It took me several long breaths, but mom waited patiently even as I felt her own anxiety build. “They said…” I let out a long sigh, there really was no good way to say this. “They said it’s not fair that I have two High Lords for parents, or for you to have two mates. And it’s not the first time, either.” 

Mom wrung her apron uneasily between her paint streaked hands, her art now completely forgotten as she focused on me. “I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this love. We knew people might say things like this, Nyx. I wish I had better answers for you, but the Mother gave your fathers and I each two mates.” She looked up at me with apology in her eyes, something I never intended and didn’t need to hear from her again. “I never wanted it to affect you negatively though.” 

“I know mom, and I know we’ve talked it to death.” I ran a frustrated hand through my hair. “It’s just still a lot, you know?” A thought struck me then. I knew my parents were all mates, I knew they’d met around the time of Amarantha’s reign under the mountain. We’d had a lot of conversations that time so I wasn’t caught off guard if other kids or parents mentioned it, but still…

“How’d you all find out anyway?” 

Mom cocked her head slightly to the side, her brow furrowed just a bit. “What do you mean?”

“How’d you find out you’re all mates? I mean, we’ve talked about the mountain and how you met them, but I’ve never really heard the full story of how your bonds snapped.” 

A secretive smile slid across her face then, and my mom straightened her head toward me. “Would you like to hear the full story? I think you’re old enough now.”

“Only if you promise to spare the gross bits…” I said, internally cringing as the unbidden image of mentally walking in on them flashed through my mind again. Fighting back a shudder at the memory I continued,  "But I am pretty curious.” I smiled slightly, and her own brightened wide enough to light the whole room. 

“Are you too old to sit on mom’s lap for story time? I can change out of my paint clothes first, I know you’ve taken after your dad with how much you care for your clothes.” she asks, humor alight in her words. 

I feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks as I answer. “Definitely too old for sitting on your lap…but maybe not for the couch…” She knew what I meant. When I had bad dreams or hard days at school, sometimes I’d lay on the couch, head in her lap. It felt too juvenile to use the word ‘cuddles’ but I guess that’s what it was. A kid’s allowed to cuddle his mom right? 

A few minutes later, mom was back wearing leggings and one of her favorite sweaters. She sat on the couch next to the big window in the library and patted the seat next to her, warmth filling the space between us. I pushed off the wall from where I stood and went to join her. As I settled in, she began her story. “Alright Nyx, let’s start from the beginning. Here’s the story of how I met your fathers.” 

Continue reading at the first cut on AO3.

Please let me know if you would like off or on my taglist!: @pippsmcgee @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yanny-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing

[pagemasters]

So it’s no secret that I believe the next book will be Elain’s with Azriel as the love interest, but I have an important question

For almost every single one of her book releases it’s been—

Title soon to be announced

Title announcement

Cover release (sometimes with release date or month)

It’s important to note she announced it will be Nesta and Cassian’s book WHEN she announced the title, NOT when cover was released. She didn’t do a “soon to be announced” post for acosf. It was something she’s never had to do because she’s never done full duo povs before, we’ve always known who will be the main character(s), even if NESTA AND CASSIAN WERE OBVIOUS!!!

Let me know if what you think will happen is different than what you want!

Please I hope they don’t drag out the ship wars it’s been too fucking long and for WHAT, I swear if they hide who the couple is until the synopsis release (which I can’t remember when it’s dropped in the sequencing) I’ll actually cry. Idk if it’ll be good tears or bad tears but there will be waterworks nonetheless

Also considering next year will be the 10th anniversary since acotar I hope they do something special in general

[kristeristerin]

There’s not enough Tarquin content here so I was wondering if I could send in Tarquin x reader to Mary’s Song (Oh My My My) by Taylor Swift as a prompt for the drabbles you’re planning on writing? Thanks!

AN: Thank you so much for the ask! Tarquin is a character that I may not have chosen to do on my own, but after writing him I feel like I need to explore more with him! I hope you feel like I did him justice!

As Always my asks are open for more Taylor Swift song and ACOTAR pairings! (I'll take other requests too of course!)

Song: Mary’s Song (Oh My My My)

Pairing: Reader X Tarquin

Content Warning: None

Words: 860

Your hands were shaking as you looked around the Summer Palace. This was your first time returning to Adriata in over 50 years and while coming back home should feel like a happy occurrence, you can’t help but worry about seeing him again. 

When you last saw Tarquin he’d just been the prince of Udrin, and the man you’d loved since you were children. Now though, you supposed, things would be different. While you could convince yourself that love would have been enough for the two of you when he was a prince, High Lords have a duty to uphold and marriage to a lesser fae was not part of that. 

Varian gave you a tight smile as he held out an arm to you, “He’s been asking for you. Are you ready?” 

“I’m not certain I’ll ever be ready to face him if I’m being honest,” you looked away from the Prince’s eyes as he led you through the palace hallways. Your eyebrows draw together when Varian turns not toward the High Lord’s study, but instead toward the doors leading to the back garden. 

“He’s out there waiting for you,” Varian drops your arm and gives you a gentle push toward the doors. 

When you step outside he’s facing away from you, instead choosing to look out at the ocean beyond the city. You are several feet away from him when you stop and drop into a low curtsy. “You wanted to see me, High Lord?” 

You hear him turn, but you don’t dare look up. 

“Y/N,” Tarquin laughs, “Surely you know we are far past these formalities. We’ve known each other since childhood after all.” 

You rise but still don’t look him in the eyes. “I’ve never known you as High Lord, though.” 

He steps forward and runs his hand through your hair, using it to gently raise your gaze to his, “I’d like you to.” He whispers before his lips brush yours in a gentle kiss. He steps away but grabs your hand before you can mourn the loss of his touch. “Come with me, I wish to show you something.” 

He led you further into the garden to the all too familiar tree. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” He asked as he pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around you. 

You laugh at the memory. “I wanted Cressida and Varian to like me so bad. I followed them out here to meet their cousin, and you hated me. I believe you even threatened to throw me into the ocean that day.” 

He looked away, biting his lip to contain his own laughter. “To be fair that wasn’t until after you had threatened to tell my mother that I wouldn’t be the Prince in your game of make-believe.” 

“Mmm, yes, and fitting punishment for my crime,” you pull away from his grip and approach the largest tree in the corner of the garden. You touch the small carving in the tree and turn to him. “Do you remember this?” you ask in a small voice. 

When he approaches you, Tarquin turns you toward the tree and wraps both of his arms around you. “Of course, I do,” his breath tickles the shell of your ear as he speaks. “This was the carving I made into the tree 9 years later when I finally agreed to be your prince. Nostrus was very cross with me for carving our initials into the tree.” 

Smiling at the memory you turn in his arms so you’re face to face. “I always hoped I’d be your princess.” You murmur looking at him through your lashes. 

Tarquin cupped your jaw and returned your smile, “Now I’m hoping you’ll agree to be the High Lord’s Lady. Perhaps not right away, but if you’ll let me court you again I know I can prove to you that we can have everything we once had, and so much more.” 

His smile falters as you begin to cry, “Have I said something wrong, my love?” 

“No,” you sniffle and then laugh at the horrid sound you made, “this is just unexpected. I thought you had asked me to join you here so you could tell me that we were through because a High Lord could never spend his life with a lesser fae.” 

“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he looked into your eyes, “There is nothing lesser about you. It’s the thought of you and the life that we could have together that got me through every day under that mountain. I’d be honored to be able to one day call you my wife, and our people would be better off with you at my side. Please, don’t think for a moment you're unworthy of anything, least of all me. I have loved you with all that I am since I was 18 years old, Y/N, and I will continue to do so for centuries more.” 

You lift a hand to his cheek and lean up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Tarquin, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.” 

[sapchat]

As much as I would hate for it to happen I think it would be kind of poetic is Rhys did try to become High King of Prythian. (I also think it’d be a really good fucking book)

Think about it, so far (from what we’ve seen through Feyre POV) his entire goal has been to save and protect Prythian from evil. And Amren keeps push in that really the only way to do it would be by becoming High King. The thing is, is we can tell he’s starting to get stressed. We saw it in ACOFAS (fucking holiday special. I’m waiting for the musical special next) and we saw some of it in ACOSF.

He’s trying to find ways to protect his family while also protecting Prythian. Amren’s putting ideas in his head to become High King, so why doesn’t he try it?

Here’s why I think it’d be poetic: Amarantha.

Now we know the trauma he went through with her, but she declared herself “Queen of Prythian”. It’d be poetic if her “whore”/consort later became King. I think this is where SJM could put a lot of his troubles and talk about his struggles he went through with her but we all know she won’t.

I also think it would be poetic because of his goal and worry to protect his family. Protect Feyre. Because what’s one way you could kill Rhys? Feyre. Because of that fucking bargain they’ve made. So what do I think will happen? It’ll come full circle, he’ll start locking her up. Now we know he basically promised it would never happen again but come on poetic irony.

Rhys would be Amarantha, Feyre would be Tamlin. Rhys would become Tamlin, and Feyre would become someone who wouldn’t know what to do.

I don’t think it would be as bad as Tamlin in ACOMAF, but I do think Rhys would try and keep her in Velaris, safe where it’s protected, where nothing can happen to her and Nyx and therefore nothing can happened to Rhys.

Here’s another thing I could would be poetic if Rhys became High King. Koshcei. The Bone Carver. The Weaver.

Three siblings. Three “brothers”.

Koshcei is the most powerful of the siblings, that’s why he was locked in the lake. In Slavic folklore Koshcei is a male antagonist who “kidnaps the hero’s wife.” What is it that Rhys is accused of? Stealing Tamlins bride. Now I don’t think Tamlin is gonna be a hero, but I do think he’ll have some part to play just because SJM could’ve left him alone at the end of ACOWAR. His ending should’ve been him saying “be happy” but no she has Rhys going and antagonizing him in ACOSF. I 100% think you could have Rhys and Koshcei be a poetic comparison.

I think Azriel would be The Bone Carver. Now the bone carver states that he’s the weakest of his three siblings when it comes to power. In a way I can see where this could apply to Rhys and Cass. Azriel is powerful in his own way, he’s a shadowsinger. The first seen/documented in years. He’s a powerful Illyrian but when it comes to many other fae, he isn’t. And I say that with lots of love for Azriel.

That would make Cassian The Weaver. He’s the one to tie Rhys and Az together in the first place really. If he didn’t beat Rhys as a child, Rhys never would’ve gone and gotten Cass that night. Cass is the one who weaves them together. Because without that night happening, it would’ve just been Rhys and Az. Cass would’ve likely stayed a low foot soldier. The Weaver is able to sense things, he sensed that Nesta was his mate or something when she was still human, something Rhys couldn’t actually do. Rhys just knew that he had dreamt of Feyre, he didn’t realize that she was actually his mate until she was Made. Just like Nesta and Cass.

I think SJM could have a really good book if she did something like I talk about above. But I really only see her as “happy happy happy 😃” I don’t think she’ll have Rhys become High King or slowly become this villain everyone sees him as just because of how SJM has done ACOTAR so far. I think he’ll stay just a high lord and him and feyre will basically pump out babes the next few books will defeating whatever evil shows up.

[theladyofdeath]

Lady Death's Lover {II}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: I'm sorry I waited until, like, midnight to post this. As the school year approaches, I find myself in a constant state of panic and stress. Haha. Anyways, thank you for reading the prologue and chapter 1! I love seeing your feedback. This chapter is fairly light in the way of trigger warnings, but as always, know that this story contains the following. Thank you for reading! x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

Nesta

The gown I’m wearing cost more than what my sisters, father, and I spent in a year on clothing only a few years ago. It’s a stunning deep blue that brings out my eyes. The skirt is full and the bodice is laced in beads that sparkle when they hit the light. A braid crowns my head and the bruise has faded on my cheek enough that the powder covers it. 

I wait in the foyer for Tomas who seems to be taking his sweet time. It takes a certain level of disrespect to keep someone waiting for an extended period of time, but it’s the least of the cruelties that my husband inflicts upon me. 

Just when I’m ready to board the carriage alone, Tomas comes down the grand staircase dressed in his finest. He is handsome, only a few years older than myself. He’s wearing his full evening dress, and even I, who loathes him, has to admit that he looks fine in tails. I hate it, hate that he’s handsome, hate that I have to hang on his arm all evening instead of gracing the dance floor. 

The carriage ride is silent. We sit on opposite benches, facing one another. We’ve nearly reached our destination by the time he speaks.

“How was your afternoon?”

His words are so sudden that it makes me jump. I clear my throat. “Fine, I suppose. I went to the dressmaker and had tea with Gwyn and Emerie.”

He cringes at the informal use of my closest friends’ names. I rarely see them and know that Tomas disapproves, even if he’s never said it outright. “Lovely, dear.”

I do not progress the conversation, I simply let it drop and stare out the window once more. 

When the coach stops, we are sitting in front of a grand townhouse. It’s massive, larger than our own home in town. I’ve not been here before nor do I know the owner. It’s one of Tomas’ many business partners, the names of whom I don’t bother to memorize. 

Nonetheless, the home we enter is beautiful. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen and I’m mesmerized as I cross the threshold. 

Everything is black, but it is elegant. Among the dark interior, there are paintings of the night sky, murals on the ceiling of the famous starlight of Velaris. White roses are strung throughout the hall, the stark petals leading to the ballroom, where people are gathered and a string quartet plays. 

“Beautiful,” I breathe, allowing myself to be dragged by Tomas.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” It’s clear he’s not paying attention to me, but right now I don’t mind. “Chin up. Back straight. Don’t speak unless you’ve been asked a direct question. Think wisely about your answers before you voice them.”

I don’t respond. A sudden, familiar emptiness fills my core.

We round the ballroom until we’re gathered with a herd of people I don’t know but Tomas seems to. My arm remains looped through his and I smile, completely charmed, as voices surround us. The conversation is nothing more than muddled noise that I ignore as my eyes scan my surroundings. I watch as gentlemen ask the young ladies of Velaris to dance. I watch as they take to the floor and follow the commonly known steps while the music plays jovially from the platform near the corner. 

I envy them. I used to love to dance, used to come alive as the music played. Even now, I feel it in my bones while the quartet plays and I feel nothing but dread as I remain perfectly still, side by side with my husband. I don’t show it, though. The smile remains plastered on my face and I nod politely as each new person is introduced to me.

“Care for a smoke, Mandray?” 

Tomas looks at me and frowns, but I smile politely. “Don’t worry about me, my dear. I’ll get a drink and stand with the other married ladies.” 

He thinks for a minute, but then he nods and his arm slips from mine, giving me a sudden sense of freedom. I know he doesn't like leaving me alone in a room full of people but to decline an offer would speak of a weakness in both our marriage and his manhood, so he leaves me be. 

True to my word, I walk toward the refreshments table and grab a filled champagne flute. The bubbles tickle going down my throat and I can’t help my foot as it begins to tap along with the tune. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

I spin around, nearly flinging the fillings of my glass over the rim as I do so. A man stands behind me, tall and broad-shouldered, smiling kindly. His hair is long, which I find ridiculous, even if it’s pulled back neatly at the nape of his neck. He’s handsome, but not as a gentleman should be. He looks as if he should be working by the docks or in a lumber yard, perhaps in the mines. He looks more like a man that would live in my old village, not a member of high society. 

“The music?” I ask, and he nods. “Yes. Beautiful.”

I turn away from him, back towards the quartet. I watch as they expertly handle their instruments. 

“Would you care to dance?” 

My back stiffens as I turn to face my intruder once more. “Pardon?”

“Dance?” he asks, and his hazel eyes are lit with humor. “You know…what they’re all doing out there. Having fun.” 

Fun.

That was a word I haven’t heard in a long while, a word I haven’t felt. The offer is tempting and part of me wants to say yes, just to feel alive for a few minutes. 

“I’m married,” I say, simply.

He stares at me. Blinks. “And?”

My brows, I swear, shoot up into my hairline. “And…that means I cannot dance with you.” 

“Does it?” he asks, and a stupid, cocky little grin lifts the side of his mouth. “I don’t recall reading that in the rulebook.”

Knowing full well there isn’t a rule book, I feel my eyes narrow. “You, sir, are awfully inappropriate.”

“It is not inappropriate to ask a Lady to dance.”

“But it is to ask a married woman. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr…”

“Nazari. Lord Cassian—”

“Yes, well, thank you for the offer but I obviously must decline.” I hand my half-emptied glass to a passing server and go to step around Lord Cassian. 

He steps in front of me. “I did not catch your name.”

“My name is not yours to know,” I say, and try to step around him yet again.

He follows me once more. “Please do not make me endure the rest of the night without us being properly introduced.”

I take a deep breath, trying my best to keep my cool. “Lady Mandray.” 

That cocky smile of his fades, and he’s left staring at me looking completely unsettled. “You’re married to Tomas Mandray?”

“I am,” I say, the words feeling hollow as they leave me. 

He nods and bows his head. “Very well. I apologize for the disruption of your evening. Enjoy the music.”

Before I can reply, he’s hurrying far away from me. It seems my husband has the same effect on strangers that he does on me. 

His reaction makes me think a little better of the man I just met, as awful as that may seem.

I do not join the other married women. They don’t seem to like me all that much and I honestly don’t care for them. The conversations are meaningless and I don’t care to answer over and over again how soon we’ll be having children. I wish Emerie and Gwyn were here. Although they’re at some of the events that I’m dragged to, they rarely come to the balls. They are not married nor are they looking for husbands, claiming and content to be spinsters, but that is what drew me to them in the first place, their freedom even in society. 

So I stand here, close to the refreshments even though I’ve given up my glass. I watch young gentlemen and ladies dance, watch as they smile and laugh and move freely to the music. And I can’t help when my eyes find Lord Cassian as he speaks with another young lady across the hall. His body is so relaxed, his smile so easy, and I loathe him for that.

Jealousy is a bitch and it’s all I seem to be feeling tonight. Jealousy, and loneliness.

…….

Cassian 

“Would you like me to introduce you to Mandray?” 

My smile falters and I clear my throat. “Of course. Eh, let’s hope that the fact that I tried to charm his wife doesn’t ruin his impression of me.”

Beside me, Azriel snorts. Rhysand’s lips form a tight line. “You hit on his wife?”

“I didn’t know she was his wife,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “I didn’t know she was anyone’s wife. I saw a pretty woman. I asked her to dance.”

Rhysand’s eyes narrow. “Why do I feel that wasn’t the end of the conversation?”

I sip from my champagne.

Pretty isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe Lady Mandray, but I can’t tell my brothers that she is, by far, the most terrifyingly beautiful woman I have ever crossed paths with. Traditional beauty had been thrown out the window and replaced with a cold, intricate beauty that was unknown to society and the world beyond. The type of beauty that was Lady Mandray could not be replicated. No, I wouldn’t tell them that. That would be inappropriate and although I love the inappropriate most of the time, being inappropriate with the man I’m attempting to invest with to boost my fortune seems to be crossing a line.

“Well, let’s hope his wife remains quiet and no one overheard,” Rhysand says, shaking his head. “It would be just like you to cause a scandal at my event, of all places.” 

“No scandal, just a misunderstanding,” I assure him. At least, I try to. The look in his eye tells me to watch myself for the remainder of the evening. I try not to let that piss me off as I take another drink. 

Just as I’m about to ask Rhys to make the introduction, I see a familiar face out of the corner of my eye and a slow smile spreads across my lips. There’s someone I could have fun with and cause no scandal.

None that hasn’t been spread before, anyway. 

“One dance, then I’ll meet Mandray.” I’m moving before the words are out of my mouth. I move around the outskirts of the dancefloor, tossing my drink aside on the way, until I’m stopping behind a long-legged blonde in a red dress.

I bow. “Miss Morrigan.”

She’s turning, eyes narrowed, before I stand back at full height. “I swear, every time you call me that it makes me hate you just a little bit more.” 

“You don’t hate me.” I grin. “If you hated me, you wouldn’t accept the dance I’m about to offer you and we both know that you can’t say no to a dance with me.” 

With a roll of her eyes, she takes my outstretched hand and we join the other dancers as a quadrille begins. It’s not the best dance for conversation but we seem to carry one anyway without caring about those around us. 

“You’re late,” I say, as the music becomes lively. “I didn’t think you were going to show.”

“Missed me?” she asks with a wink. “You missed tea this past Monday. Maybe I was angry with you.”

We come together and spin around as I ask, “No, I just figured you were holed up with someone you weren’t supposed to be again.”

Her eyes grow bright as we part and the softest shade of pink tinges her cheeks. She looks around to make sure those closest to us didn’t hear, but I know they didn’t. It takes a few seconds for us to come back together, but when she does she says, “No, that was last weekend. Tonight I just felt like arriving late so that everyone would have to look at me as I entered.” 

It worked. It always did. Mor was stunning, beautiful to everyone who looked her way. She took my virginity, and I took hers, when we were teenagers. It was awkward and horrible and I lasted no more than twenty seconds. It took her a long time to convince me that such a horribly awkward experience wasn’t what opened her eyes to realizing that she didn’t like men at all in such a way — a fact that only a few of us know and keep secret in her honor. Me, Azriel, Rhys, our friend Amren. We’ll keep that secret until we no longer walk this earth. 

But, it’s nice to know that she finds someone to spend her time with every now and then. I want to ask about the mystery woman that she spent the weekend with, but it’ll have to wait until Monday’s tea time. 

The dance ends a minute later and we all take our bow, then I’m sweeping her to where Rhysand and Azriel are in deep conversation with a group of young ladies. Mor’s arm loops through mine when I see her. 

Lady Mandray is watching me, and I can tell she’s pissed that I caught her. I offer her a smile, but maybe it comes off a bit too cocky because her pursed lips seem to amplify. She quickly turns on her heels and exits the room, which leaves me confused and strangely aroused. 

Mor catches me looking and leans in closer. “And who is that?”

“The wife of Lord Tomas Mandray,” I answer, my smile fading. “Met earlier tonight. We didn’t hit it off.”

Mor gasps, patting my arm. “Lord Cassian Nazari didn’t instantly sweep a woman off her feet? My, my. You must be getting old.”

I shoot her a look that makes her grin widen, but we say nothing more as we reach our destination. I fall into the chaos that consists of the ladies of Velaris desperately wanting to charm a man into becoming their husbands until we politely dismiss ourselves to find Lord Mandray. 

We find him in a smoke-filled room full of gentlemen and Rhysand makes the introduction. We talk for no more than two minutes before he’s called away, apparently a much sought after man of high society. 

After those two minutes, I deduce two things.

One: investing with him will make me more money in a month than all my tenants combined make me in a year. 

Two: I would hate to be the woman married to that asshole. 

[acourtofquestions]

I personally love all of SJM’s books, and have read TOG and ACOTAR (I’m on the second book of CC) but I’ve seen multiple anti-SJM posts on tumblr. I personally disagree with them, but what’s your opinion?

(One of the main things they argue is that Rhysand was abusive)

A very good question! Thanks for asking! I always love talking about fandom stuff & your posts are always a fav😊🫶 @romantasyreader28 (apology in advance for the delay & long ramble lol; it was a good question I had many thoughts on🤣)

I was actually pondering something similar within this note but separate for an updated reading post on Rowan from TOG (I’m reading HoF for the first time; & though I generally try not to pick “pro/anti” (as there’s always another side to the story) not gonna lie I was near “anti”-Rowan… until PT. 2… hence the more “pro”-Rowan upcoming post😂).

— So there are definitely a LOT of changing opinions depending on the point in the series.

As far as Rhysand goes:

I was on a rollercoaster with him at first too, the introductory chapters & UTM time period were concerning (assault is a big trigger for me; so having Feyre drink faerie wine, “marking” her with paint, & kissing her without consent was disturbing).

With that said, I did find his character generally easier to “like/not loathe” on first read in comparison to other “enemies to lovers”. I think this is because of a few reasons… The 1st being you know there is more going on beneath the surface. 2nd, the perspective it’s written in shows their draw to each-other & makes swaying the audience easier. 3rd the undercurrents to their banter & little clues to more within their interactions; such as him betting on HER; shows he believes in her & also something more. Finally, it is furthered by the already very dark setting, not to give excuse but to more easily explain the why which is NOT of malice. My biggest point is that he does not defend it, apologizes for it & it is not portrayed as “okay”.

He is not perfect, he can be read as hero or villain; he does NOT make the same mistake twice, he DOES apologize, he does TRY to be better. He creates a sanctuary specifically for women to escape abuse, he makes a lot of effort to give Feyre HER choices & empower her to make them. And the times we are shown his side it is much less morally murky.

I know there is a lot of anger around him hiding the risk of Feyre & Nyx; I don’t disagree it is wrong & confusing, but we do not get the full picture, clearly showing in the other perspectives. & The other being his threat to Nesta after she tells Feyre; which was wrong & he knows it. — There is a difference however between anger & action. — While many of these patterns could probably be deemed as abusive, they could also be deemed as acceptable/explainable. Which one is correct?

— Well, at the end of the day it’s fiction. Within a genre that very much struggles with this as a whole. & While there is something to be said for “real world” power within fictional escapes. It also comes with a different & messier set of non-existent rules; if we are to examine them all, quickly everything becomes problematic. & maybe that’s good to do, maybe not; it’s worth acknowledging; but in that acknowledge that it is fiction.

Meanwhile, writers are real people. So be wary of jumping toward conclusions on either side…

As far as SJM goes:

I don’t know & we’ve never met, I don’t know what she’s like, what she believes in, what she’s experienced. I doubt anyone would write a series with the intention to sway people into abusive relationships. & though intent is a good question to ask; I tend to lean similarly towards no.

There are times I think abuse is shown; whether intentional (as Arobynn and Celaena), or questionably (Tamlin & Feyre’s first kiss; a moment that bothered me as she is drunk, but I actually appreciate because it is shown how problematic they are later; point to it as a key warning, not “romantic fairytale” to aspire for).

I also think the Maasverse does take time to give survivors & “unspoken stories” a spotlight, that means a great deal (or at least it did to me) with characters like Gwyn being a large one.

It serves as an enjoyable escape from the world; one we know is fiction. A morality that can be more “fun” to debate & ponder, but still exists within fiction & opinion primarily over actual moral grounding.

For me: I love Rhysand (though I may not wish to marry him in the real world) I wish to have someone to hold my hair when I have nightmares & I loved watching him and Feyre fall in love in moments like that; I love the way SJM turns plots on their heads & think she does a great job with them.

Reading throne of glass as my next Maasverse series has been cathartic; I have thoroughly enjoyed many dynamics and actually praised them for flipping stereotypes on their heads & NOT being abusive.

So, while I think there are many sides and points to argue & at the end of the day is generally within fiction; I enjoy SJM’s writing & reading them. I generally don’t find it more problematic than other series. And prefer to enjoy fandoms, or move along if it doesn’t feed me healthily.