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xxvalkyriesxx · 1 month

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The Blood on Your Hands

Summary: Cassian's had enough of Rhysand threatening his mate. He's decided to show his High Lord what happens when he threatens her for a second time.

This is pure smut. The first half is somewhat violet as a heads up. Also warning, there's slight HOFAS spoilers but I made it vague enough that it doesn't go into much detail. This isn't an anti Rhys train, I was just mad at his reaction.

Additional Tags: I was mad once again at HOFAS / Mainly the BAM bonus chapter / Cassian is crazy in this / 1000% alphahole / But I love him / Possessive Cassian / Mating bonds / Its pure filth in the second half / Smut / Praise kink /Not really blood play but blood is kinda there

Read on AO3 or below

Tag list: @separatist-apologist

There was so much red, Cassian couldn’t see his siphons anymore. His hands were coated in blood, his blood. The male who was his brother, his friend, his High Lord.

Rhys would heal.

That was his only reassurance as he punched his face again. His fist connected to Rhys’ mouth once more. From the hit, he spit out the mixture of saliva and blood and tears.

“We’re Ilyrian. So today we will follow their laws.” Cassian growled, his teeth baring at Rhysand. Rhysand was smart not to say anything. His breathing was heavy as he gasped for air.

Rhysand was high lord but he was no Lord of Bloodshed. He could fight his way through a battle with strategy, but when it came down to physical strength, that’s where Cassian had him. But Cassian had another factor in his anger. Something ancient and holy that not even the Illyrians would deny.

His hazel eyes met her silvery blue ones. Her face remained stoic, not a single wince of fear in sight. Yanking the High Lord by his hair, Cassian dragged Rhysand to Nesta’s boots. She wore Illyrian leathers, just like the two of them. An Illyrian in mind and soul.

“Apologize.” Cassian demanded. Rhysand mumbled something but Cassian decided that wasn’t good enough. He pulled on Rhysand’s hair, making him look up at Nesta.

“Apologize to her. Now. Be clear with your words. I will not ask again.” The High Lord gulped as more blood left his mouth. His entire face was bruised in shades of blues and purple. Ironically it complimented his violet irises.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” Rhysand spoke. Cassian sneered. “For what?” Rhysand coughed more of his blood.

“For threatening to kill you, Nesta…For a second time.” Cassian roared at the apology, his hand finally letting go of Rhysand’s head. He marched forward until he stood behind Nesta, his mate.

Silence from Nesta amplified Rhysand’s gasps and coughing fits. Still standing without so much of any emotion. The queen of queens her mother projected her to be, and today she was.

“Rhysand.” Nesta spoke. Her voice firm with her silver flame eyes.

“You will never threaten me, or my loved ones again. I did what anyone with a human heart would have done. That includes my sister. The very sister you’re mated too. There are concepts that even century old fae like yourself cannot understand. I hope after this, you understand my actions. You do not have to agree, but respect is something of mutual value.”

She offered her hand to him. “You’re high lord, which is why Cassian decided to do this in the training yard and not in Illyria. We need to be strong and unified against the ones who cause unjust rebellions. So let this be a one time moment. A learning moment if you will.”

Rhys looked up at Nesta. “Never fuck with Cassian’s mate again?” Nesta smirked. “You’re a fast learner.”

She grabbed his hand and helped him up. Together they brought him inside where Feyre was sipping her tea. Looking up, she grimaced.

“Jeez Cass, did you have to go that far?” Cassian glared at her in reply. She rolled her eyes.

“Has everyone learned their lessons?” Feyre asked. Rhys and Nesta looked at each other then nodded.

“Good. Cassian, put him down over there. I’m going to make his favorite tea and then I’ll start healing.” Cassian did as the High Lady instructed. He graciously placed the High Lord down on the sofa. All three of them heard her mumble about ‘big Ilyrian babies’ as she walked to the kitchen.

“Brother.” Cassian said, firm but gently. Rhys kept his eyes closed, but he spoke softly. “I would’ve done the same thing to you, you piece of shit.” And for the first time that evening, Cassian laughed. He bumped his fist on Rhys’ shoulder who hissed in pain. “You did that on purpose.” “Just a love tap, brother.”

Cassian walked over to Nesta who stood with her arms crossed, watching the whole scene. “Ready, Sweetheart?” A crack in Nesta’s steel armor appeared. A soft smile welcomed his question. “Always.”

The General of the Night Court swooped his mate into his arms and disappeared to their room.

The second Cassian closed their bedroom door, Nesta quietly asked the House for a sound barrier under her breath. The House created a barrier as asked, keeping everything inside their room private. Cassian looked over to Nesta and as he started to approach her, she backed him up against the door.

His eyes widened for a split second before he could smell it. Her yearning. Her need. Her desire. She placed a hand on his cock, feeling it grow hard through the leathers. A breath left him as her lips connected to his neck. She nipped and sucked at him, their desire growing.

“Never have I ever been turned on by a brutish fight.” She mumbled into his skin. “Good to know what gets you off, Sweetheart.” Cassian replied.

Her hands ran to his leathers, slowly undoing the armor letting it fall to the floor. Eventually as she reached his pants, they dropped down along with her knees. Nesta didn’t even flinch at the impact, as it just made her more turned on. His cock, thick, long, and throbbing to be inside sprung out. Quickly she took her hand and started to pump. Her lips found his head, licking his slit before putting his length in her mouth.

Cassian moaned, grabbing Nesta’s hair, pushing his cock deep inside her throat. She gagged as tears sprang into her eyes. A throbbing need matched at the apex of her thighs.

“Look at you. Taking my cock so well, Sweetheart. You didn’t let me clean up first. Does beating the shit out of someone do it for you? Do you want me to fuck you with their blood on my hands?” In response Nesta moaned, picturing the thought in her head.

“You’re filthy, Sweetheart.” The humiliation burned her desire great as she squeezed his cock harder. Cassian hissed, fucking her throat. He pulled her mouth almost fully off before entering her mouth again, letting a slip of air come in.

“If you don’t stop, Sweetheart, I’m going to cum down your throat. You want that? You want my cum everywhere, don’t you?” Nesta’s tears splattered on her face as Cassian yelled, his hot finish releasing. Nesta pulled her lips off, drooling.

“Your beauty will end me and all our enemies. They will fall to their knees looking upon you.” Cassian fell to his own knees, pushing Nesta down on the wooden floor. He quickly removed her leathers, wanting every piece of her. In seconds Nesta was bare before him, her arousal coating her inner thighs. A smirk fell to his lips.

“All of this, for me?” Nesta whimpered, her hips bucking wanting to be touched.

“Answer me, Nes.” Cassian ordered. “All of it. All of this. It’s for you, Cassian. Now please fuck me!”

“Or do I have to get your other brother involved to finish the job?” Nesta taunted.

Immediately Cassian wrapped a hand around her throat squeezing. His teeth bared as he growled. “You will involve no one else but me inside you, Nesta.” He squeezed harder. “Understand?”

Nesta’s eyes fluttered, air being trivial at this point. But she nodded to his command. Gently his hand left her neck. And right as she gasped for her air, Cassian put his mouth on her clit. Nesta swore so loudly as she saw stars appear in her vision. He sucked on her before his lips left, dragging his tongue everywhere. The taste of her consuming him to no end.

His mouth traveled from there to her inner thighs, biting the soft skin, claiming every part of her. Nesta gasped as her hands pulled at his hair. His lips found her clit again and with a tiny nip of his teeth, she came. He pulled away, keeping her legs spread apart, watching her cunt clutch at nothing.

“Please, Cassian. I want your hands, your cock. Please. Please fill me until your cum is slipping out of my cunt.” Her face flushed at her own words.

Cassian growled and let go of her legs before grabbing her cheeks. “Get on the bed. Choose whatever position you want, Sweetheart.” He let go and watched her scramble to their bed. Her arms down on the blankets with her ass up. Mother above he could die just by that view.

“I’m going to wash my hands and then I’ll be back, Sweetheart.” Nesta whined, stomping her feet the best she could in that position. Cassian strolled over, yanking her hair so her upper body came up. “I would rather chew my hand off, then have another male’s blood inside you, Nesta.” The way he growled her name made her desire leak onto the bed.

He slapped her ass hard, catching Nesta off guard. She gasped at the impact, the upper half of her body dropping back down when he let go of her hair. The red handprint on her ass was divine as he walked away. As he got into the bathroom connected to their room, he kept an eye on her.

“Touch yourself, Nes. I want you to get yourself ready for me.” Cassian called out.

Slowly Nesta brought her arm in between her legs immediately sinking three fingers inside herself. Cassian and Nesta moaned in unison. Quickly Cassian washed his hands, the blood leaving a pink faded trail behind. In mere seconds he walked out to the bed, putting two of his own fingers inside Nesta, joining her own. She squealed at the tightness of having five fingers inside her.

“You can take it, Sweetheart. You take my cock and my whole fist. You were made for me. Just as I was made for you.” He whispered into her ear. The action of their hands thrusting faster and faster made Nesta gasp as she came. Cassian licked his lips.

“I love it when you do that.” Nesta huffed a breath. “I could have gotten myself off three times by now.” “You sure you want to be a brat today?” Nesta shaked her ass in response. Cassian growled. He took her hips into his hands and thrusted his cock into her. They moaned at the sensation as it been days since they last fucked.

“I don’t have the patience for discipline tonight. So you’ll get it rough and learn your lesson later.” Cassian shouted, his hips slamming into her. His cock thrusted in her cunt as Nesta held onto the bedspread for deer life. He grabbed a hold of her neck again, pushed her body flat against his, her back on his chest.

“What do you want? Tell me, Nesta.” “Want you. Fuck me. Make me cum.” “Not what I’m looking for, Nes.”

She screamed as his pace slowed into a taunt. So slow that his cock left her except for his tip.

“What. Do. You. Want?” Nesta screamed in agony. “Please, Cassian. Fuck me. MATE. My Mate. PLEASE.” Then he found himself back inside her, pounding into her. They moaned and screamed as their desires finished, coating her walls. They breathed heavily as she dropped back down to the bed, his cock leaving her.

Cassian watched the cum leave only for it to be pushed back in. Nesta moaned at the sensitivity of the area. She gasped for him to be gentle. He noticed the bloody fingerprints over her thighs making he purr at the sight.

“I will mate. Now before we take a bath, let me clean you up.” He flipped her onto her back before he walked off and wetted a clean washcloth with warm water. He came back and gently began cleaning her thighs and in between.

“Should I beat up more people around you, Nes?” Cassian looked down at her. “Maybe I should join you and Azriel in your interrogations.” A feline grin on her face. “Perhaps, if you’re good.” He teased before he threw the cloth into the hamper. He picked her up in his arms, and off the two went to bathe.

#Nessian #nesta archeron #acotar #sarah j maas #sjm #a court thorns and roses #cassian acotar #a court of thorns and roses fanfiction #ACOSF #HOFAS #hofas spoilers #xxmyfic #Nessian fic #Nessian smut #Rhysand #Feysand

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theladyofbloodshed · 2 years

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Shall we try an interesting idea?

Nesta giving birth to triplets!!!

All the babies have wings. They are two boys with Nesta's blue eyes and Cassian's hair, they look just like their daddy. And one girl looks like her mommy with the same hair and skin tone, but with Cassian's hazel eyes, and she also has freckles like her aunt Feyre.

I would love to see all this craziness!!! It's very happy, but messy as every teins birth should be. Maybe they should born in an unexpected place? like a forest or a lake?Just to add more tension 🤣

This was fun to write. Instead of being a weepy mess like in my last Nessian pregnancy, I've written Nesta as an irritable dragon! Contains labour/birth.

‘Are you sure?’

Nesta sucked in a long breath. Most females that she had met had turned into soppy messes with pregnancy hormones. Not her. No, Nesta had turned into a fire breathing dragon. ‘For the twelfth time today, yes, I am sure.’

Cassian had gotten better at hiding his winces each time she snarled at him, or to turn before he rolled his eyes when she went on a tirade at the way he’d folded a pillow case. Today, it was whether she was capable of taking a slow walk around a shallow lake in Illyria.

Still, he gave her a concerned look.

‘I wouldn’t have suggested it if I couldn’t manage it,’ she snapped.

Baby number one had decided to kick her in the spine throughout the night. Baby number one had been planned. Baby number two had been a surprise. Nesta had nearly passed out when Madja said, full of delight, that there was another. And then another. Three babies. Cassian had passed out. Like a stone monolith, he’d keeled over on the spot and gashed open the side of his head. Nobody let him live it down.

Cassian’s arm came around her, guiding her down the steps of their home in Illyria. She had decided to have the children there. It was peaceful and beautiful. Somehow that would seep into the labour, she imagined. The others had warned against it. That she’d want to be in Velaris with access to more healers and shops. Nesta had shot them all down; Cassian had known to stay silent.

Feyre had folded her arms and sighed, ‘If it was me-’

‘It’s not. It’s me who will be pushing three gigantic babies out of my vagina so I get to decide the exact location of the event.’

The males in the room had turned red. All of them. Rhysand still could not look her in the eye and Azriel found reasons to leave the room when Nesta was present.

Nesta waddled for a little while then needed a rest against a rock. Placing two hands on her hips, she groaned and stretched her back.

‘Do you have back ache? Should we go back? Should I fetch Madja?’ Cassian’s eyes were wide.

Do not set him on fire, she told herself. ‘I’ve had back ache since month four, Cassian.’

Nesta declined to tell him that the ache had steadily been worsening for the last couple of days. It was a dull ache above her pelvis, made worse by the fact that no position was comfortable. Cassian settled his hand on her bump and stroked it. It was difficult to be cross with him when he was this tender.

‘Be nice to your mother,’ he warned.

He helped her to her feet. Nesta laced her arm with her mate’s as they moved at a snail’s pace around the curve of the lake. Her feet had swollen so badly that she had taken to wearing Cassian’s shoes. Along with his clothes. Yet even they were becoming too tight around her enormous bump. It was no good. She had to free her arm from him to support the weight of it.

‘We should turn back,’ Cassian said.

None could fault him during the pregnancy; he’d been loving and attentive. His attentiveness had shifted to worry though and it was non-stop. If she had the hiccups, he was flying to Madja. Nesta craved liquorice and he was searching books to discover what it meant, could she eat it, would it harm the baby. He had once asked her if she had been practising her pelvic floor exercises and she’d nearly torn his head off.

‘I want to go a little further.’

The path snaked towards the pine trees that covered the side of the mountain like a sheet. For now, it was still late summer so there were no signs of the bitter winds that autumn brought or the unrelenting snow of winter. Being pregnant during summer was insufferable. She’d skipped out on a trip to the Summer Court when the others went so that she did not melt into a puddle. On the whole, pregnancy had been fine. Or as fine as it could be carrying triplets. She suffered little from morning sickness, all three had been growing well. There had never been any causes of concern and she’d never had any panicked moments of doubt. Three would be chaos, but their lives always were chaotic.

They found a log for Nesta to rest on. Cassian’s strong arms eased her down. Although a fae pregnancy lasted ten months, Nesta knew from her time as a mortal that multiple births came earlier. Nobody was able to give her an estimate on her gestation here. Twins were rare enough. Triplets were unheard of. When news had spread that the General of the Night Court was expecting triplets, males shook his hand and congratulated him as if he had done something worthy of the history books rather than bend her over a desk in the library for five minutes of fun. Nesta had told him as much once when she was cross that her fingers had swollen too much to wear her wedding band.

Her mate rubbed her bump in sweeping motions like he was painting. It was his way of calming the kicking. Miraculously, Nesta had made it to thirty-six weeks. Madja had jested that it was sheer willpower on Nesta’s part that kept them inside her womb. Mor had dared to ponder if Nesta’s stomach could grow anymore because she was already massive. Nesta had never seen Cassian move so quickly; he’d launched himself across the room, taking Morrigan down to the floor with him as Nesta blasted a bolt of silver fire at them, singeing the drapes.

‘It hits me sometimes that we’ll have a baby. Our lives are about to change massively.’

Nesta leant her head against his shoulder. ‘Three babies.’

‘Three babies,’ he echoed, kissing her temple. ‘I’m excited to get my mate back. I can’t say I’ve enjoyed leaping out the line of fire for the last nine months.’

Nesta raised her brows incredulously. ‘You really think we will ever have a moment together with three babies? Do you think I will ever let you touch me again after you have done this to me?’

Cassian smiled. The sunlight caught in his hair, turning strands of it molten gold amongst the black. ‘I can never stop touching you. You’re even more beautiful like this. The Mother herself.’

They rose again, plodding slower through the dense undergrowth of pine needles.

‘I cannot wait to see my feet again.’

Nesta felt a popping sensation, painless but detectable. Then a gushing of liquid down her legs. It was incontrollable.

‘Cassian.’

Her mate stopped swiping a stick against the ground and turned. His eyes caught on the trickle of liquid running down Nesta’s legs. Cassian swayed on the spot then promptly fainted.

Nesta managed to lower herself onto the undergrowth. The pain in her lower back grew more intense. She threw a pebble at Cassian, trying to rouse him. He had hit the ground like a felled tree, face first into the mud.

In between contractions, Nesta fumbled on the ground for any twigs or stones to launch at her unconscious mate.

The contractions came more frequently, lasting longer too. The nice, natural birth that Nesta had envisioned in the Illyrian countryside was not meant to be this literal with pine needles stuck to her bare legs. She managed to flick her toes, sending a shoe bouncing off of Cassian’s head. Nesta only hoped her babies did not have their father’s large head.

A murmuring came from him as he pushed off the ground.

‘Thank you for joining us,’ she hissed.

‘You’re in labour!’

‘You don’t say!’

Cassian swallowed. His body began rocking again unsteadily. ‘I’ll go and get Madja.’

Silver fire rimmed her eyes. ‘Don’t you dare leave me in these woods alone. I am having your children.’

‘Right. Of course. What should I do?’

Nesta gritted her teeth through a contraction. She would suffer through this pain only once to produce three children. That was the silver lining through all of it. ‘Believe it or not, this is my first-time giving birth. My god, why is it so painful?’

A strong hand tilted her forwards, massaging her lower back. Despite her irritation, Nesta was flooded with thankfulness as Cassian settled beside her. He scraped her sweaty hair from her forehead.

‘I need to fly you.’

‘The babies are coming,’ she whimpered.

‘To the cabin.’

It was the most undignified flight they had ever managed. He had somehow managed to lift her in a squat position to carry her, but they only hovered a foot off the ground. They hadn’t made it all the way back to the cabin when Nesta begged him to put her down. Carefully, he set her down on the rough heather. Nesta went down to her knees. She needed to push. Had to push.

Cassian’s eyes had glazed. She wasn’t sure if he was about to faint again.

‘I need to push,’ she groaned, fighting through another contraction.

‘Rhys is on his way.’

Nesta let out a growl as the pain rocked her body. ‘Not him.’

Three figures appeared on the horizon. One was tall and lean, the other two carried large bags. Cassian’s hand was well and truly being squeezed as Nesta began pushing. She couldn’t fight it any longer. Instinct took over with every peak of pain.

She was only vaguely aware of Rhys and Madja’s arrival. Vaguely aware of Madja’s assistant checking her pulse. Vaguely aware of snarling at Rhys to stay near her head. An unbelievable pressure bore down on her as she gave a strong push.

A cry rang out.

Euphoria like Nesta had never known flooded her body as Madja lifted the baby onto her chest. He was so small, so perfect. There was a crop of dark hair on his head and a set of wings tucked against his back, ready to unfurl.

The urge to push struck again. The assistant saw to their first child with Rhys watching on while Nesta began pushing again. She risked a glance to Cassian. His face with wet with tears, but remarkably green in tone.

‘Don’t you dare faint again,’ Nesta warned him. She gripped his hand tighter as another contraction burnt her body.

‘Are you ready to push?’

Nesta shot Madja a glare that could have struck her dead. All she wanted to do was push and get this pain over with.

The healer’s hands pressed against her abdomen. A crease furrowed her brow.

‘What is it?’

‘Their wing is stuck. Do not push.’

‘But I need to push,’ Nesta grunted.

She was trying to override her body’s evolutionary instinct while Madja tried to turn the babe in her womb. It was agony.

As soon as Madja gave the signal, Nesta pushed and pushed and pushed until she heard another cry.

Exhausted, she collapsed back against Cassian’s chest. Their second child – a girl with blonde hair – was handed to her. She stopped crying quickly. Nesta hardly dared to breathe. Then her eyes snagged on the twisted set of wings.

‘Her wings.’

Cassian’s finger seemed gigantic as it brushed against their daughter’s brow. ‘They’ll rectify themselves. It can happen with babies. She won’t have any issues flying.’

When it came to push again, Nesta’s body was weak. The high of birthing two children had swelled within then plummeted. She wanted to close her eyes and rest but that dull pain had started up in her pelvis.

‘I’m so tired,’ she whispered to Cassian, nuzzling against his neck.

He stayed behind her, hands clasped within her own. The sun shone above them, bathing Illyria in warmth. His lips kissed the nape of her neck. All of her was drenched with sweat. Her legs were slick with blood. Rhysand was sat on the dusty path, both babies asleep in his arms. Nesta would cry if they were taken inside. She couldn’t be apart from them.

‘Nesta, you need to push.’

‘I’m so tired,’ she repeated, body resting against Cassian’s.

His hands squeezed hers. ‘Where’s my iron-willed mate? A few more pushes, sweetheart. You’ve got this.’

Madja’s assistant pressed a damp cloth to her forehead and Rhysand’s magic wrapped around her body, cooling her skin.

It took everything she had to birth the last child, but eventually another little boy was placed in her arms. His cry made her cry. Then her tears refused to ebb. Cassian kissed his mate, face shining with pride.

***

They had been inundated with guests and gifts. Nesta had originally thought that she wouldn’t want a moment alone from her children, but she was glad for the extra hands. Everybody had advised her to sleep when baby sleeps; it would take a miracle for them all to sleep at the same time. More often, her and Cassian walked around the house in bleary eyed exhaustion. Elain had taken the spare bedroom for the time being. She was uncertain with a baby, but her help with tackling the mountain of washing or cooking for them was invaluable.

‘Which one can I hold?’ Mor asked, peering at the two crying in Cassian’s arms.

‘Both of them! All of them.’

Uncle Azriel seemed to have the magic touch. In his arms, the babies fell asleep instantly. While everybody else trod on eggshells, scared to make any noise if a baby was asleep, Azriel had one scooped up in his arm and would continue talking or reading reports with Cassian without the baby stirring at all. Nesta even debated crawling into his arms for some much-needed sleep.

The babies themselves were still nameless. They had girl baby and loud boy and quiet boy. Cassian and Nesta could not settle on a name they both liked, much less three of them. When Helion had visited with lavish gifts, he had recommended one be named after him. Girl baby was the only one with any similarity to Nesta; the same skin tone and nose, same golden hair, but her father’s eyes. The boys were their father’s clones. Dark haired, bronze skinned – but, thankfully, her blue eyes. Loud baby – the first born – was the smallest of the three but he certainly made up for it with his racking cry.

Two of them were asleep, tucked up beside each other in a basket. Cassian had nipped out briefly so she was alone with them for the first time. Only quiet boy was still awake, but he remained against her chest, yawning and stretching rather than squawking.

Cassian had crept in through the front door. His face had softened at the sight of them stood beside the window sill.

‘I know I shouldn’t have favourites,’ she whispered as he entered the room. ‘But he never cries. He’s the most well-behaved.’

Quiet boy sneezed. The motion made his tiny wings flutter.

Cassian wrapped his arms around them both. ‘I think we have to keep all three though.’

‘Not when Rhys is around. I have to count them before he leaves.’

Nesta seriously wondered if Rhys was reconsidering his role as high lord. He was obsessed with babies, Feyre had lamented to them. If it wasn’t their triplets, he’d tell her about any baby he had seen that day with a dreamy look in his eyes.

Transporting the triplets anywhere was a military operation to ensure they had everything they needed. Their first evening away from Illyria – where they dined in Velaris – had been a steep learning curve. While Nesta had originally been shy about her body, preferring to go to a separate room to feed them, she had since abandoned any modesty. They were definitely Cassian’s children; they were always hungry. Nobody batted an eyelid any more when Nesta whipped her breast out at the dinner table to feed whichever baby was currently demanding milk. Her lovely mate would feed her while she fed their child.

It was chaos. All of it. But it was bliss too. Children had strengthened her bond with Cassian. They had never been more of a team – especially at bath time. The love that Nesta had for him had transformed into something deeper. When his huge body cradled one of their children, a small, insane voice in her head would whisper that they should have another one day.

#nessian #pregnancy fic #nesta archeron #cassian

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empire-of-wildfire · 4 years

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HOLIDAY SURPRISE

A @starseternalnighttriumphant X @empire-of-wildfire CHRISTMAS MINI-FIC COLLABORATION

WARNING: GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT. NOT SUITABLE FOR READERS UNDER 18 YEARS OLD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

a/n: here’s part 3!! Sorry it’s not on schedule, we both have been going crazy with work but we worked really hard to get this out for you guys tonight!

Cassian hung up the phone, running his hand down his face in frustration. His partners hadn’t been pleased when he’d told them he was staying in Velaris longer than planned because they needed him to start working on another case, but he told them he would work virtually until he could return. He hadn’t told them about Amina, wanting to keep her to himself for a little while at least. He’d called and arranged for more of his things to be sent to him in a week or so, and he looked into AirBnBs so he wasn’t living in the hotel long-term. He was pretty sure he’d thought of everything that needed to be handled while he stayed here, although something still nagged at him but he ignored it. The possibility that he wouldn’t be returning to Illyria permanently flickered through his mind, but he shoved it away. It was too early to know that. That would require further planning, and likely an extremely uncomfortable discussion with Nesta. If she didn’t kill him first.

Even just thinking about her for a brief moment, she moved to the forefront of his mind like she always had, since the day he left Velaris. Except now it wasn’t just Nesta he couldn't stop thinking about. Now she shared his headspace with Amina.

Amina. Now that he’d had a little while to get over his initial shock, he marvelled at the thought of her. So many times he’d dreamed of the day Nesta would bless him with children, but his imagination couldn’t have ever come up with such a perfect child as the one he met hours ago. He wished he could’ve been there to see her birth, to see her grow into the fiery toddler she was now. He couldn’t wait to see the woman she would become one day. Tough as nails and sharp as a whip, no doubt, with Nesta as her mother.

He was dragged out of daydreams of his daughter by the shrill sound of his phone ringing. He didn’t even look at the screen, assuming it was Rhys calling him to chew him out some more.

“What, Rhys?” He snapped.

“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s your other favorite brother,” a deep voice said, sounding amused.

“Oh shit, sorry Az.” Cassian instantly regretted his attitude. He hadn’t even seen his other brother yet in the hours he’d been home, he didn’t deserve his anger. And yet, Azriel had clearly known about Amina, and had kept her from him just like Rhys. “What’s up?”

“I just got off the phone with Feyre… she sounded pretty upset. Mentioned something about you and Nesta and that she wasn’t sure if you were leaving again?” Azriel said the last part slowly, as if afraid of setting Cassian off.

Cassian sighed heavily, bracing for the conversation he knew was about to happen. “How could you not fucking tell me? I don’t give a shit what Nesta threatened, I’m your brother Az. She’s my daughter. I deserved to know.”

“I know Cass, trust me. I wanted to tell you so many times. But I also knew how much your job means to you. I guess I’d just hoped you’d at least come home to visit sooner than this so you didn’t miss so much time, but then the longer it got the less likely I thought it was that you’d ever come home. And I didn’t want the only reason you came home to be because I told you about Amina. I was afraid you’d come to resent me for taking you away from your career, or worse, resent Amina for it. And I couldn’t risk her getting hurt like that.”

Cassian just sat there for a minute, shocked into speechlessness. For all his anger about how he felt about this, he hadn’t stopped to think about how Amina would feel. He’d just decided she would love him automatically, but what if that wasn’t the case? What if she never wanted to know who her father was? Would Nesta have ever told her, even if she didn’t ask?

“Cass? You okay?” Azriel asked tentatively.

“I just… I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

“It’s Christmas Eve, and I know she’s taken the next week off. Go talk to her. I would assume at this point you know where your priorities are, so tell her that. Apologize. Make her see you won’t hurt Amina, or her, and go from there.” Azriel paused, clearly considering something. “She just dropped Amina off with me and Elain. She’s over in the neighborhood by the Sidra.”

Cassian sagged with relief, glad that someone was telling him something at least. “Thanks.”

“Good luck brother,” was his only reply.

Cassian immediately hung up and ran for his car, taking off for the other side of town. The neighborhood Azriel had told him Nesta lived in was pretty small, but he still wasn’t sure how he’d find her house. He slowly drove through the neighborhood, looking at each house for a sign of the fiery woman he hoped was living in one of them. Suddenly he came to a stop in the middle of the street, unable to look away from the house in front of him.

At face value, the house was simple, but elegant. Nothing overly extravagant, but clearly a well loved home. The thing that stopped him in his tracks though, was the front door. All the other homes had very neutral front doors, black, beiges, whites. This door was a bright, crimson red. He was immediately transported back to a different time in his life, when whispered secrets were shared under soft sheets with the woman that held his heart in her hands.

“When we get our own place, like officially ours, I want the front door to be red. I know it’s weird, but I want it to be a statement.” Nesta’s words rang in his head like she just said them, though that conversation was over five years ago.

Evidently Nesta had taken her dreams into her own hands, no longer wanting or needing Cassian with her to make them happen.

Cassian pushed down the twinge of pain and regret that thought caused, then finally parked and got out of the car, making his way slowly towards that bright red door that represented so many missed moments and realized dreams.

Knocking on the door, he braced himself for the wrath of Nesta Archeron.

As soon as she opened the door, she took a step back and ground out, “What do you want?”

“Can I come in?” Nesta hesitated, scanning his face as if looking for something. “Please, Nesta. I just want to talk,” he pleaded.

Finally she nodded, turning and walking into the house, leaving the door wide open since she knew he would follow her. He quickly stepped inside, following her through the house.

He spied the big Christmas tree in the living room, covered in matching ornaments. Nesta had never really been in to Christmas, but he wondered if that had changed now that Amina was in the picture.

He had to admit, he wasn’t expecting Nesta to live in the richer part of town. She must’ve been doing well at the hospital, being paid well if it meant she was living like this. Despite how awkward it felt to be here, to feel her weighted gaze on him, he was glad Amina would be cared for well, even if things didn’t end well and he ended up going back to Illyria.

“How is she?” he asked after a few moments.

Nesta’s whole body was tense as she poured cups of coffee, and he watched her closely just in case she decided to poison him. “She’s fine.”

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Tell me about her.”

“Oh, all of a sudden you’re interested?” she asked, her pleasant voice not concealing the venom underneath.

“Nesta, please.” He never begged, and she knew it. Her shoulders dropped in acquiescence, and she walked over with the two mugs, setting one down in front of him as she sat at the opposite end of the table.

She looked out the window to where the sky was dark now, and he had forgotten how late it was. But she just gazed out for another moment before she sighed and turned back to her coffee, staring into the mug.

“She’s super smart. She started walking months before the doctor said she would. She started talking months before she was supposed to. She’s leagues ahead of any other kid her age.” A small smile graced Nesta’s mouth. “She’ll be smarter than me one day, if you can believe it.”

Cassian watched her intently, hanging on to every word as Nesta finally relaxed and talked about their daughter. It was clear that Amina was the center of Nesta’s world, a place that had used to be his. He always knew Nesta would be an amazing mother, and his heart clenched when he realized he’d always thought he would be there for that day that she did become one. And he’d missed it all: the moment she found out, the ultrasounds, the birthing classes, the actual birth of his daughter. And the truth of it hit him square in the chest, making him wince.

As if she had sensed it, she stopped talking, eyes roving over him. “I didn’t think you’d ever come back.”

Ouch. He guessed she was ready to move on to the harder parts of a conversation that was four years in the making. She didn’t give him time to reply as she grabbed her mug and placed it in the sink, walking out of the kitchen. He scrambled to follow her, catching up to her in the living room.

“Nes, you know I loved you. So much. I just wanted to prove I was more than the dumb kid I was here. I wanted to see if I could make something of myself.”

She spun on him, her eyes ablaze. “You don’t know how much it hurt when you told me you wanted to leave. I thought it was because of me. Every insecurity I’d ever had about us, warranted or not, came roaring back.”

“Nesta—”

“We’d been together all of high school and college, and then suddenly you wanted to leave and I hardly got any more notice than anyone else did.” She was on a roll now, and didn’t leave any space for him to interrupt. “I mean for cauldron’s sake Cass, we’d talked about our future together! That didn’t involve you being thousands of miles away and leaving me here. So after you left and I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t want to try and make you come back. And I knew if I told you and you still didn’t come back, it would crush me.”

Her words shocked him. Nesta Archeron knew him better than anyone else in the world, knew him better than his own brothers. And for her to think that… “Do you honestly think that if you’d called me and said we were having a baby, I wouldn’t come back and be there for you? For fuck’s sake Nesta, I can practice law anywhere.”

She crossed her arms stubbornly, fire in her gaze. “You fucking left, Cassian. You wanted to chase your dream, you were so focused on being such a hotshot lawyer, so forgive me for thinking that a baby would ruin that pipe dream for you!”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’ve known me for how fucking long, Nesta?” his voice was hard, and he was struggling not to raise it but he couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. “Do you think for one second I would’ve stayed in Illyria if I had known you were pregnant with our child?”

Her jaw clenched. “I didn’t need you to stay here out of guilt that you knocked me up.”

“Gods, Nesta, I’m not standing here because I feel fucking guilty. I’m here right now because I never stopped loving you!”

She froze, her face a mask of pure shock. For once she was left speechless, and Cassian took advantage of it. He closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands and kissing the hell out of her.

He wasn’t expecting her to return his fervor, her hands sliding up around his neck, tangling in the locks at the base of it. Every nerve ending came alive at her touch, his body reacting to her the way it used to over four years ago. The feel of her mouth was like coming home, so familiar and intoxicating that he had half a mind to wonder why he ever left her.

He grabbed her up, somehow finding his way to her bedroom and settling her down on her bed, hands slipping her out of her shirt. As he pulled it up over her head, he realized it was one of his old shirts from college. His heart clenched painfully, lungs refusing to breathe. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what Nesta keeping his things meant. But he wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t push just yet.

As soon as he had her completely naked before him, he pulled back to take in every inch of her. She was completely breathtaking; her sharp angles and curves were softer now, likely an after effect of giving birth. But it didn’t matter to him. This was Nesta, the one woman that he would never get over, no matter what happened between them.

He slid his hand over hip and up her stomach, watching goosebumps pebble her skin. Before he could reach her breast, she sat up and grabbed him, impatiently pulling at his clothes to get him on the same playing field. He chuckled, helping her get himself undressed. He leaned over her again but she surprised him by wrapping a leg around his hip and flipping their positions. She was now atop him, gloriously naked above him, her golden brown hair falling around her shoulders and down her back. Her face was vulnerable, open, her eyes already blown with desire. She was a goddess.

She leaned down to meet his mouth, kissing him long and deep. He groaned against her lips when her hand found his already hard length, stroking him softly. When she ran the tip of him between her folds, he was ready to lose his godsdamn mind.

“Nesta,” he breathed, her name coming out like the holiest of prayers.

She wasted no time in sliding down onto him, and he was already lost in pleasure that he almost missed the sharp gasp that left the woman atop him. She stilled, adjusting to him after so many years apart. His hands wrapped around her hips, thumbs caressing her skin as he met her steely gaze.

“Lost for words?” he quipped, the left side of his mouth hitching up into a smirk.

Her nostrils flared, but instead of shooting a venom-laced reply back at him, she moved her hips, effectively shutting him up and leaving him incapable of any cocky remarks. Her hands braced against his chest as she began to ride him, and he wondered if he was going to die from this. He hadn’t been celibate since he’d left her, but every single motion of hers was threatening to undo the very threads of his life. Coming together after so long was going to ruin him, but he didn’t care.

He watched her as she moved on him, rolling his own hips to meet her movements. She clenched around him and he swore, fingers digging into her hip as his other hand came down between her legs to stroke the sensitive bundle of nerves there. When she let out a breathy moan, he knew she was his again.

He continued his ministrations, watching in awe as Nesta started her ascent, writhing and moaning above him. He took over her movements, thrusting into her slow and deep, feeling every inch of her. When he knew she was close, he sat up, seated inside her at a dizzying angle. He captured her mouth, tongue invading her mouth as he picked up his pace, thumb circling her clit torturously.

Her back arched, chest pressing against his and then she was crying out his name and spasming around him, body shaking as her orgasm overtook her. He didn’t stop, continuing to stroke into her, his mouth on her neck as she trembled. He rolled them so she was on her back, his body resting against hers as he continued his pace, hips stuttering as she clenched around him one last time. Her arms and legs wrapped around him, pulling him even closer, her nails raking gently down his back until her hands were on his behind, urging him to go faster.

He didn’t resist, bracing himself on his arms as he looked down at her, taking in her pink cheeks and glazed gray-blue eyes. She held his gaze, hands coming back up to slide along his jaw, pulling him back down to kiss him softly. Her kiss seared his mouth, and he sighed in content against her lips, savoring the way she tasted.

“I love you,” she whispered, the worst so quiet he wasn’t sure if he’d even heard her right. His eyes shot open, brows furrowing in surprised but she just kissed him again, holding him close.

Her lips found the juncture of his shoulder and when her teeth dug into his skin, he found release, choking out her name as he emptied inside her, all but collapsing on top of her sweat-slicked form. He couldn’t think straight, could only focus on all five senses that were overwhelmed by Nesta. Everywhere they touched was like fire, all he could smell was her and the evidence of what they’d done. His head was on her chest, listening to her heartbeat, and the memory of her coming undone kept playing in his mind. He felt no better than a house cat as she ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

When he finally lifted his head, it was to place a light kiss to her collarbone, to her jaw, to her swollen lips. Her eyes were already half-closed, trying to fight off sleep, but her mouth curved into the soft smile that had captured his heart all those years ago.

It wasn’t until she was sound asleep that he ran a thumb over her cheek and whispered, “I love you too.”

@werewolffprince @schmlip-scribble @justgiu12 @westofmoon @legallyhermione @love-is-a-contradiction @shyvioletcat @oversizedbats @superspiritfestival @ladywitchling @disgreisful @empress-ofbloodshed @lovemollywho @highqueenofelfhame @rocky99 @sayosdreams @mynewdreamwasyou @whydoineedtowriteanamehere @charincharge @sjm-things @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @queenestarcheron @julemmaes @littlehoneyybee @throne-of-crescent-roses @sleeping-and-books @agentsofsheilds @that-golden-lyre @swankii-art-teacher @nessiantho @mythicaitt

#holiday surprise #holiday surprise 3 #hs3 #nessian #starseternalnighttriumphant x empire of wildfire

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arinbelle · 4 years

Text

Grateful

Nessian one-shot, smut*

A/N:Dearest the people who put up with me,

This fic...oh boy. So this is the first ever fic I ever wrote. I can’t actually remember why I never posted it, but this was the first thing I ever, ever, ever wrote, even before the multi-fic, even before all those other one-shots. This was my little experiment, guinea pig baby. Treat her kindly please. Um, yeah so this is NSFW, at least towards the end. Not crazy like the other stuff I’ve written aHem *blushes super red*, but ya know, it’s there. I think this was how I knew I was destined to write filth one day- this was my gateway.

Also, literally because I’ve promised so many fics to people and haven’t posted any of them, I’m just releasing this from my drafts because, well, she needs to go. Live her life as a post, free from the WIPs floating near her.

Enjoy? God I hope so. I didn’t proofread this cuz I wrote when I was a fetus writer and I can’t handle rereading it anymore.

Warnings: NSFW, graphic gore? depends on how your stomach is I guess

Tagging: @bookstantrash @moe8 @duskandstarlight @queenestarcheron @queenofbloodshed @vasudharaghavan @courtofjurdan @allilal @cassianscool @sjm-things @greerlunna @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth

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It was warmer tonight. Most nights in Illyria, especially this late into the season, were painfully cold. But tonight was different. Pleasanter. It might have been the warm currents coming in from the sea that surrounded the borderlands. The mountains certainly never helped add any warmth to life in the bleak war camp. Not that she saw it as bleak anymore. Muddy perhaps, when it rained so much the water could reach her knees and she would need to change out of her soaked and ruined dress. But not bleak. Not for some time.

That first month...she shuddered. That was painful for everyone involved. For Nesta, who couldn't sort through the roiling emotions that threatened to consume her very being, it was a different sort of hell she was then being subjected to. There was the anger-no- the rage, at being sent off to a war camp with a male she loathed by her younger sister. There was the sadness- it came unexpectedly one night, two weeks after she had started staying with Cassian in his home. Great waves of despair so strong she thought she would suffocate under the pressure. She didn't know she was screaming through her tears until Cassian came running in and held her close to his chest. She'd never cried out loud, barely able to make a noise in that cramped cabin with her two sisters lying snug beside her. No, Nesta had mastered the art of breaking apart in silence with her sisters peacefully sleeping next to her. She never wanted to disturb them with her pain. She still didn't. Clearly they didn't want to be disturbed either. Hence sending her away.

They never talked about that episode. Of how Nesta had trembled as sobs racked through her too thin form. Or how Cassian had just held her, enclosed her in his warm, strong wings, one hand stroking her hair and his lips briefly brushing her forehead every few minutes. She didn't know how long he held her like that, or when she fell asleep and he laid her down on the bed and tucked her in. They didn't talk about a lot of things, that was just who they were. It worked for them. Nesta had never been very good at words...well she was. Just not the ones that spoke from her heart. She was much better at throwing them out like ice shards at whoever dared to step too close. But Cassian, Cassian who reminded Nesta of fire made flesh- her ice never threw him off. If anything, it beckoned him closer.

But it was warmer today, so Nesta had decided to enjoy the climate for however long it lasted, and put it to good use. She'd journeyed the short path behind the house, once just Cassian's house, and now hers as well, to the small lake in the middle of the forest. She'd grabbed a picnic cloth to sit down on as well as some blankets in case the chill in the air returned. After she set up her spot she quickly returned to the house to retrieve the remaining necessities for the day. She put them in a basket and went on her way with her Grimoire, her talismans, her potions. She kept her witch-dagger in the other hand. Cassian had made sure it was specially crafted by an Illyrian smith who had apparently made his own sword for him when he had become Commander. Oh she had her own collection of swords and weapons to rival Cassian's, but she wasn't on her way to a match in the ring or training with him. Witchcraft was a more delicate art, albeit just as bloody at times.

She set to work quickly, pulling out her Grimoire and chanting her spells. Today was a practicing day so she had no interest in anything too dark. Simple conjurings of books from her room onto her lap, and then back to her shelf over and over had her warmed-up for more complex incantations. She conjured a pleasant wind with a twirl of her fingers and sent it skittering over the rippling water ahead of her. She grabbed her witch-dagger and sent a flame dancing along it's blade, effectively cleaning it before setting it on her own skin. Blood magic was frowned upon by even the Fae and especially the superstitious Illyrians, and for good reason. But she would not be pushing into the darker recesses of her powers today no matter how much her fingers itched to turn her spell into a hex instead. Perhap direct it at one of the camp warlords who had upset her a few days ago. It didn't bother her that he'd called her a demonic-witch and told her to stay away from the women and children of the camp. He had been irritated when she had called out his blatant unfairness in training the females in the ring. It was when he had said he didn't take orders from the bastard's whore that had her seeing red. The insult, not to her, but to Cassian had sent her hissing and she might have taken his head off right then and there, had Cassian not intervened and separated the two.

She ignored the small smile he sent her way though, the gratitude at someone standing up against the word that had been ingrained into his sense of worth for so long. Never mind that it was her who had once thrown that insult at him too. She had seen that insecurity just as he had seen all of hers, and before he could cut her, she made the first move. But Cassian was not like other people Nesta had encountered. He traded every blow of her words back with a parry of his own. If she was a viper with venom dripping down her fangs, he was a wolf, feral and always ready to bite.

Nesta used her blood to fuel a locator spell that she'd been working on perfecting for some time now. She had the idea about a month ago when Cassian had gone on a visit to another camp and had not returned back on time. She had no one to turn to in her worry and so she'd consulted the Grimoire. The spell had looked easy enough, and even though Cassian had warned her ages ago that blood magic was dangerous and only for seasoned spell-casters, she hadn't listened. It had backfired somehow, with Nesta both unable to locate Cassian, and ending up fitfully sick on the floor of the living room. She'd hurled up her guts and then blood and then nothing, dry heaving before passing out. She hadn't had enough strength to get up or move for a full day. Just as she had cleaned up the sick and gotten into the bath, Cassian had entered the house. The evidence of her spell work was gone but the scent of vomit and blood and wrongness still permeated the air and Cassian had demanded answers. She had been too close to bursting into tears, both from the ordeal she had just endured and also at the sight of him whole and unharmed. So she hadn't answered right away, sinking lower into the bathwater and closing her eyes. He waited a little longer for an answer before giving up and undressing as he sighed in resignation. She really did try not to open her eyes and look upon his beautiful and very naked body as he entered the shower. But Nesta had never been very good at inhibiting herself. And Cassian was her one weakness, though she'd seldom admit that to herself let alone him. Of course there were other ways to locate him, should her worries get the best of her. He'd told her as much when she finally admitted to him what had happened.

"Why not just use the bon-?" he'd started off and quickly cut himself off. He muttered something about starting dinner and left the room while she continued combing her hair.

The bond. That was another thing they never talked about. It was there. Nesta can't remember ever living without it. It is as much a part of her as he is, although, she supposes that is what the bond is anyways. A part of her own soul. It's stronger now than it was when a human girl had let a dangerous Fae male kiss her throat. Maybe it's always been a part of her, the Cauldron just being the final catalyst to seal it's complete emergence in her.

He was on the far side of the camp, closer to the cliffs where he trained the aerial legions in complicated spins and flips in the air. She could see it on the map she had in front of her, her blood gathered in a circle around where he was. It reminded her of another time she had used her gifts to trace what she wanted to find. Bones and stone, Amren had called it. That was a different time though. A different Nesta too. She had been afraid of so many things back then- her powers for one. She was also afraid of losing Elain in that war. Losing Feyre. Losing...him.

Now as she quickly cleaned the blood in the lake from the map and her arm, she can't imagine ever living without her powers. Because she had existed without them before. Existed and raged and thrived off of anger alone. But now, now she was living.

Nesta isn't sure how long she's been sitting there at the side of the lake, throwing spell after spell out above the water. It's a dusky pink in the sky signaling to evening time. She's creating small whirlpools in the water when she hears him. He's slow to approach behind her, stopping a few feet away from her spread.

A moment more he stands there gazing at her before silently unwrapping his weapons from his leathers and setting them down next to her talismans. He sits down behind her, leaning against an ancient oak tree, spreading out his legs on either side of her. She sneaks a glance behind her shoulder and her breath falters.

Cassian’s eyes were closed and his strong chest was gently rising in a rhythm that was so at odds with her own fluttering heartbeat. That was what he did to her though. She should count herself lucky that she was in so much more control around him now. The first few months of sharing his home with her, she was constantly flushed- a stammering, clammy, mess of a female. And damn him but he knew the effect he had on her. He relished in it, smirked at her in what she could only describe as male pride, every time she became flustered around him.

He opened his eyes suddenly and Nesta decided to act natural, rather than avert her gaze and give herself and her ogling away. Those eyes...she could lose herself in those eyes. They changed colors depending on the day, or maybe it was his mood. Sometimes they were green and flecked with amber when he sent her his heated glances, and other times a warm brown for when he sent her his honeyed words. Rarely did she see them almost black-completely predatory and vicious- for when the warlords tried his patience and brought forth ugly memories from the past. Never was that gaze ever directed at her.

"Enjoying the view?" he teased, a corner of his mouth turning up in a playful mock.

Deciding to not start in on a round of banter, she tells him the truth.

"Yes."

His eyebrows rise up in surprise. It's usually him that's brash in complimenting and flirting with her. And she's usually the one that is shocked into silence by how filthy he can get. The surprise doesn't stop him for long, because he starts forward reaching a hand out to grab the back of her hair. He tugs lightly and she's forced to look at him properly this time, angling her body towards him.

"Come here," he whispers.

She almost smiles then. She darts her eyes around conspiratorially and then dramatically whispers back. "No."

He frowns and the furrow in his brow is so shockingly adorable she laughs out loud this time, and then turns back to her spellcasting.

He sidles up behind her and splays a calloused hand across her stomach, abruptly pulling her back to his chest. She thinks about it, to continue pushing his patience or to give in. She truly wants to anyways. She settles on giving in and quits casting, lightly setting her hands on the tops of his thighs.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat in approval and the hum vibrates through his chest into her. She shivers even though Cassian's warm body is completely pressed to her back. He lowers his head and starts kissing the side of her neck, gentle at first but enough to make her eyes rolls back in her head. The hand on her stomach moves up to firmly grasp her jaw and move her head just so, providing him even more access to her neck. She'll have bruises tomorrow with the way he's going, but she can't be bothered to stop him. He loves marking her, and damn that primal Fae part of her that relishes in how territorial he can be. Finally she grows tired of the attention her neck is getting and she twists her head to capture his lips.

He tastes like pine and chestnuts and she moans into his mouth at how right this feels. She had missed him all day, and now that he is here, she never wants him to leave.

His other hand has slipped under the skirt of her dress and is inching higher and higher as the ferocity of his kisses deepen. When he strokes her core lightly through her underwear she jumps at the contact and ends up biting his lip, sending him hissing before biting her back. His tongue darts out and smooths over the small hurt before kissing her hard again. She breaks away from his lips and turns herself around to straddle him, pushing him back to lean against the tree.

She can't think clearly. Lust is fogging her mind and the heat pooling at her core is the only thing driving her movements now. She pulls at his shirt and he quickly helps her remove it. She wants to feel him, feel his heated skin against hers before they go further.

No matter how many times she's seen him shirtless, she'll never get over how breathtaking his markings are. The Illyrian tattoos that whorl around his chest, along his shoulders and his biceps, are stark against his tan skin. They seem even more pronounced in the moonlight.

It's nightfall she realizes with shock. Although it isn’t the first time she’s lost track of time in the presence of this wondrous male in front of her.

Her nails lightly scrape his tattoos as she reverently traces them slowly. She'd like to trace them with her tongue but she wants him inside of her more. He's breathing heavily, his warm breath mingling with hers, and his nostrils flare. She can scent her arousal in the air as well so he's likely already close to snapping and just taking her.

"Nesta...," he groans before crushing his lips to hers again. His fingers once again find themselves between her legs and now he wastes no time in moving aside her undergarments and pressing his fingers on her heated core. She gasps at the sensation and screams a little when he plunges a finger inside her. Her hands reach for purchase and grasp at his hair, pulling harder with each stroke he makes inside her.

When he adds a second finger and curls upward, she thinks she could die from the pleasure. When he frees her breasts from her bodice and licks around her peaked nipple, she can't hold back the incoherent moans that tumble from her mouth. She's on fire, completely wrecked from the inside and still burning. She clenches once around his fingers and he knows how close she's getting, his thumb presses and circles on her bundle of nerves. She comes with his name on her lips and her lips moving against his.

"Cass..." she whispers into his neck, still half-delirious from her high, and not fully capable of forming thoughts, let alone sentences.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" his voice is achingly sweet, as his tongue flicks out at her neck again, at that one spot that she loves so much.

She moans, again unable to form the words properly of how much she desires him. But he knows what she needs. He's quick in unbuckling his pants, the only hint at how eager he is too, even if he hasn't said much to her.

He sets her off of him gently to fully remove his clothing and she pulls her half unlaced dress off of herself. Then she's reaching for him and he catches her arms, stropping her advances.

"Wait," he chuckles, before eyeing her slyly, "...or do you want to freeze out here?"

"You can keep me warm," she coyly responds.

His barking laugh is his only response as he grabs the blankets behind them and wraps them both under and over them.

His hand circles her wrist and lightly pulls, telling her "Now you can come."

"I already did."

He raises his brows in surprise for this is twice in one night that she's thrown innuendos at him. That's his forte usually. But something about the way he's looking at her, like he could devour every inch of her, is making her tongue a little loose. Still, she relents and crawls over to him, settling herself in his lap, her arms encircling his neck. His hands rise up to hold her waist and he nuzzles his face against hers, and she realizes, she is content to just stay here with him.

Skin to skin.

No words.

Just...them.

Cassian has other ideas though and before she can protest, he's flipped them over, and his massive form looms above her. His wings unfurl and that's twice in one night that she's breathless. Dark as midnight with old and new scars littered all over them, they're beautiful and deadly and horrific and lovely. She wants to erase the scars that mar them, kiss away all his hurts, as she remembers the fact that she was there for some of those new scars. She was witness to how he was hurt and how helpless she was, forced to watch- a victim herself.

Those dark thoughts are quickly banished from her mind as Cassian sets to work on her breasts. He cups and squeezes and bites until she is writhing underneath him and her legs are squeezing together as heat pools in her down there again.

"Quit playing around," she all but snarls at him. He isn't at all bothered and just smirks at her before returning to his work. He takes his time, working his way back up her chest to her lips again, leaving more nips and markings that she'll admonish him for the next day. She can't take it anymore, the waiting, so while he's kissing her, she grabs at his hardened length and strokes. He breaks from her lips, growling harshly into into her clavicle, and then slowly, so slowly she could scream in frustration, he slides into her.

Once he is fully sheathed, he stops, and cups her cheek. His gaze is heavy and she feels out of sorts with him looking at her so intently. This isn't a look of lust. It's one of adoration and awe. It's something they don't discuss. How much they truly care about the other.

In the beginning, it was just sex. Nesta had had many lovers. So had Cassian. And they both had an appetite for it. So meaningless sex, especially when forced to live together under stressful circumstances, was almost expected. And in the beginning, it wasn't soft. It wasn't sweet. It was rough, and needy, and hard and fast. Although Cassian took her more than once through the night to make up for how quickly they found their release in each other. But with time and with healing, it got better.

Not fixed, because it was obvious to Nesta that she'd never be fully okay with everything that had happened to her. Neither would Cassian. But they were better. It became less of a battle of wills when they clashed their tongues together, just like the swords they still sparred with out in the ring. It wasn't a fight for dominance when she rode him instead of letting him atop her. Before she knew it, he was holding her late into the night and suddenly she was staying in his bed instead of leaving right after to her own room. And she supposed they could even call it "making love" now, as opposed to the hate-fucking they'd been doing before. Except she wouldn't do that. That had too many implications and too much admittance into how deeply she truly loved him.

So she lost herself in the sensations of pleasure coursing through her while he thrust in and out of her. His pace was unmatched and she didn't have any strength in her to meet his hips upward and cant back to them. Her legs locked around his waist harder and she dug her heels harder into his backside, spurring him to go deeper.

More. More. More. That's what she wanted.

When he obliged her, her moaning was replaced with breathy gasps punctuated by each buck of his hips. He was moaning and gasping just as hard as she was, if not more. She was his undoing just as much and he was hers. He was hitting that spot deep inside of her with each pump and she could feel that she was so close.

She must have said it out loud because he locked eyes with her, his furious pace unyielding, and responded, "Then come for me, sweetheart."

And did she ever. His voice, his words, those teeth biting into her earlobe and then kissing her lips, his free hand massaging her breasts were all a deadly combination. She felt him jerk inside her and she could feel he was as close her. Her release made her see stars and say Cassian's name over and over until there was no strength left in her.

His teeth lightly grazed her jaw, still half inside of her, and she couldn't fathom how she could still want him so much, her need for him barely sated even though it was obvious she was too tired to go another round.

"I missed you today," he admitted into her neck, and the whispered truth engraved itself into her skin so much deeper than the already fading markings ever would.

She hummed in response and carded her fingers lightly through his hair, more snarled now from his training and then their...vigorous session. He looked up from his ministrations and met her eyes with a softened gaze. This wasn't the battle hardened General Commander before her. No, he had put that mask aside for her a long time ago, when she had done the same for him. This was Cassian. Just Cassian. Her Cassian. And she was Nesta. Just Nesta. His Nesta.

He shifted off of her then, and pulled her into his side, pulling the blankets around them and curling his arms around her. The chill in the air had indeed returned but Cassian's warm body chased away any cold that seeped into Nesta.

In fact, Cassian chased everything away that hurt Nesta. And for that, for him, she was grateful.

#nesta archeron fanfic #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian

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suits-of-woe · 3 years

Note

Re: your tags on the incredible vampire au post - what is the forbidden tma au?

I've talked about it briefly before here and here but basically it's this half-baked idea in my head of Twelfth Night but half the characters are avatars of the fears from The Magnus Archives. (I'm assuming you're familiar with TMA? If not I can try to explain more). I don't think I've ever fully written out my ideas for it but here goes:

- Viola, or rather Not-Sebastian, is an avatar of the Stranger. After their brother's presumed death they didn't know how to maintain their sense of identity without their twin so they just kind of...didn't and became a warped version of Sebastian instead to try to cope with it. So by the end of the play you've got two Sebastians running around, almost identical, one of which kind of sends a shiver up your spine when you look at them and realize something's not quite right. "I am not what I am..."

- Olivia is an avatar of the Lonely, buried deep in her grief after her brother's death and feeding off the isolation of everyone around her. I'm picturing her household as a super lonely, foggy mansion where everyone is expected to wear black and avoid talking much to each other, at least at first

- Orsino is one of Olivia's victims and she's kind of feeding off him from afar, trying to draw out his misery for all it's worth, but then...suddenly it doesn't seem to be working quite as well anymore? I think half of Olivia's fascination with Not-Sebastian is because she can tell that suddenly Orsino's not so lonely anymore and this person is the reason why and it's frustrating but also very intriguing

- The other half of Olivia's fascination is because both of them have become so warped by grief for their brothers but in such different ways. And also a Stranger avatar is a very strange (pun not intended) person to love because, like, this isn't quite a real person, it's more like a fucked up and slightly wrong memory of a real person who's now dead. And for Olivia who kind of feeds off her own loneliness as well as others' that's compelling. Something something "the people you think you love don't exist, not really, and that's a very lonely place to be"

- Feste is a spiral avatar who just kind of showed up in Olivia's household one day but she rolled with it because he's funny. He plays music that gives you migraines and makes you feel like you're going slightly crazy but it can be a good time

- Toby, Maria, and Andrew are all regular humans. Toby and Maria know what's up and just kind of think it's funny to hang out with eldritch fear monsters all day. Andrew doesn't know and genuinely thinks Olivia and Feste are just a little quirky. Comedy and angst ensue (yes Toby likes Andrew and keeps him around cause he's a fairly good time, but Sir Andrew "I was adored once too" Aguecheek" is also a profoundly lonely person and Olivia's feeding off his misery too)

- Toby and Maria also have a bet going about whether Malvolio will become a victim of the Lonely or the Spiral first. At first it seems like he's going the way of the Lonely with all his unrequited love for Olivia but once Feste gets his hands on him...well. I do picture this as kind of a fucked up Michael and Helen situation -- Malvolio's a victim first but then takes on the transformation himself. He repeats over and over and over that he's not mad but by the time he comes out of that dark room looking at his face makes your head hurt and the patterns on his stockings have turned into fractals and Feste is nowhere to be seen. (This part of the AU might upset me the most actually)

- Antonio is a former agent of the Lonely, and was crew on a kind of Tundra-esque ship that gained a reputation for making sure certain lone sailors were never seen again, which Orsino knows about because he lost a family member to that ship. But Antonio managed to get out when he found actual companionship in Sebastian (who is still pretty normal and doesn't know there's a Not-Him running around out there). So it's not safe for him in Illyria, not with Orsino knowing his past and not with Olivia's Lonely stronghold threatening to take him back in, but it's all worth it for Sebastian, the only man he's ever loved who loves him back...isn't it?

- I think you could really lean into the bittersweet notes of the ending with this AU. Maybe Orsino and not-Sebastian/Viola find something like happiness together, especially once the real Sebastian shows up and maybe helps Viola ground themself in a more concrete identity again, if they're not too far gone. Olivia marries Sebastian but it's not quite right, he's not actually the person she fell in love with, that's a loneliness she's going to sit with for a long time. There's nothing left of Malvolio but the Distortion, doomed to send people to the same fate he met that day. Andrew and Antonio get out, at least for now, but they're both lonelier than they've ever been.

- Anyway. Can you tell I think about this concept an unhealthy amount?

#twelfth night #the magnus archives #SORRY FOR THE EGREGIOUSLY LONG POST THIS WEIRD CROSSOVER AU JUST LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE #posts for an audience of me #shakespeare #mine #asks

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kiefbowl · 3 years

Note

I haven’t watched that much of Angel but I know a lot of people were pro Fred/Wes and that it seemed weird to me - would love to hear more from you

okay well 1. he is too old 2. he locked a woman in his closet for months (unclear if he remembers this after season 4 de ex machina forgetful spell, but I do) 3. the whole reason fred and gunn don't work out is bc he murdered her prof so she didn't have to, but it is unclear if wes has ever told fred that he locked a woman in a closet for 3 months (or shot a man in a calf like a maniac - yes I just watched the first Illyria arch episode) 4. I am convinced he only """loves""" her because she is waifish and I think the text supports this because I believe this is what whedon believes love is, therefore this idea of love imbues everything he touches like a slime 5. for example, he only seems to love her after his crush on her is thwarted because she ends up with age appropriate gunn (who she actually likes) and then is not allowed to pursue her, so like he covets her 6. the actual interesting love story was between him and lilah, who is age appropriate and perfectly in lock step story wise with wes transformation into a dark turtleneck wearing bad-ass who also locks women in his closet for months at a time, but to continue that love story or a similar love story would mean the show reckoning with wes anti-hero actions which they did not want to do - they wanted the flavor but not really explore it. 7. wes chased fred around the hotel when he was high on primal misogyny, but I guess we're all supposed to forget what fred wants likes, needs, experiences, or remembers. no no, chasing a woman around bc you want to beat her to death is really about him suffering not her yes of course 8. wes' crush developed after they saved her from a hell dimension and she was all crazy and vulnerable, where as gunn actually got to know her. this was also pre-~badass~ transformation 9. the second cordy is not cordy, everyone has to be in love with fred. can fred not be single? can we not have more female characters? i guess not

in defense of old fans, this show aired during a very different time in television. people were not binging, and people had a much harder time rewatching. but when you zoom through the series you can't help but yell at the screen every time they chat "hey wes, have you told fred about the time you locked a woman in your closet for months?" at least gunn killed a man for her in front of her. plus her feelings only seemed to arise when wes was going to help fred kill the same man but I guess that's good and gunn killing the man is bad. wait, maybe fred and wes are perfect for each other maybe she loves when men lock women in closets as long as it's for a cause she can get behind.

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redisriding · 4 years

Text

The Right Swipe - Chapter Eight

A Court of Thorns and Roses Modern AU Fanfic

All character’s belong to the wonderful Sarah J Maas.

Tags: @superspiritfestival @duskandstarlight @perseusannabeth @courtofjurdan @omg-aelin @keshavomit @rainbowcheetah512 @queenestarcheron @mis-lil-red @queen-of-glass

Cassian sat in his truck, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music playing on the radio. It was some classic rock channel that his truck had picked up on the drive out of Velaris to the hiking trail where he had agreed to meet Nesta for their second date.

He had been waiting for almost an hour. Not that Nesta was late, but because Cassian had arrived excessively early.

He had woken before his alarm that morning and was too restless to try and go back to sleep, so he had got up and padded around Azriel’s plush apartment making himself breakfast.

But even the elaborate spread he concocted disappeared sooner than he would have liked. He sat at Azriel’s kitchen table trembling with energy that he didn’t know what to do with.

After cleaning up, he decided to make himself useful. Locating Azriel’s tool box, which was some search, he set about hanging the paintings that Rhys had ordered to brighten up the grey minimalist box that Azriel lived in.

He had only drilled the first hole in the wall when Azriel emerged from his room, bleary-eyed and grumpy. “Cass, what are you doing?”

“Hanging the art Rhys bought.”

“I can see that, but do you need to do it before 8am on a Saturday?! The neighbours are going to complain.”

“Right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Why are you even up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Well, go watch TV or something.”

“Do you want to—.”

But Azriel had already retreated back into his room, presumably to hide under his duvet for another few hours.

Cassian closed the toolbox with a sigh.

Lying down on the floor he began scissoring his arms and legs, making dust angels, while trying to decide how best to kill his morning.

He wasn’t nervous about his second date with Nesta, for everything that could have gone wrong already had. Today’s date was a lucky second chance he didn’t think he was going to get, so he was determined that today Nesta was going to get to know the real him, and if she didn’t like it, well he didn’t lose anything he hadn’t already anyway.

Climbing off the floor, he headed for the bathroom.

He didn’t think he had ever showered before a hike, it was the kind of thing you did after you got all sweaty, but given this hike was really a date, turning up smelling ripe wouldn’t do him any favours.

He did however take the opportunity, while he stood under the warm cascade of water, to stroke himself to completion…twice. Nesta’s presence already did things to him, he didn’t need to add unreasonable levels of horniness to the mix.

After towelling off, he spent longer than necessary arranging his hair into a loose man bun, a style that Emerie always told him was sexy. He choose to assume she was an authority for all women and that Nesta would approve.

Grabbing his phone off the vanity, he sent her quick message.

Looking forward to seeing you today :)

Nesta’s rely came a few minutes later.

Hope you can keep up ;)

Cassian’s chest clenched, that stupid grin he’d recently started sporting spread across his face.

Don’t worry about me sweetheart ;)

Adjusting his towel, and himself, Cassian padded from the bathroom back into the room he was staying in at Az’s.

He pulled a pair of trousers from the drawer he had hastily stuck the few clothes he brought with him into when he arrived. He then spent longer than he was prepared to admit debating which of his three flannel shirts he should wear. Cassian was just grateful he didn’t have to borrow anything ill-fitting of Az’s this time.

After lacing up his boots with shaking hands, he decided that he couldn’t sit around in Azriel’s apartment any longer, he was going stir crazy, which is how he now found himself at their date spot, early.

A few hikers who had passed in the hour he sat there had thrown him dirty looks. Men who sitting alone in trucks in the forrest tended not to be up to any good. To be fair to them, about half an hour in, Cassian did debate unzipping his trousers to rub a quick one out just to ensure that any lingering horniness was drained. In the end he decided against exposing himself, given, to do so would be to commit a criminal offence.

It was then that he had started tapping his steering wheel and singing along to the classic anthems.

The radio had just cut to a commercial break when a little red spots car appeared in his mirror. He laughed as it came to a stop behind his truck.

Of course that was what she would drive.

————

Nesta parked her car behind a massive truck. There was absolutely no reason for it to be the size that it was. She was sure that it was owned by some Velaris douche who thought anything outside the city limits could only be enhanced by the smell of exhaust fumes and the sound of an engine revving. She was nervous parking her car behind it, for fear the driver would simply reverse over her car, but it was the only space available in the small lot at the foot of the hiking trail.

Switching off the engine she pulled her phone just her bag and sent Cassian a message.

Hey! I’ve just arrived :)

She hadn’t seen him while she was searching for a parking space, so maybe he was still yet to arrive. He didn’t really know Velaris particularly well after all.

She shucked off the tennis shoes she had been wearing to drive and pulled her hiking boots from the back seat. She had her head down, lacing them up, when a knock on her window startled her.

Jumping, Nesta looked up see a smirking Cassian crouched down looking in the window at her.

Her stomach lurched, brain short circuiting.

Gods.

This was not the man she had met 10 days ago for dinner at the House of Wind.

He was spectacular.

Gone was the nervousness, dressed in clothes that didn’t fit him, with hair that was gelled like a helmet to his head.

Instead, today, Cassian looked at ease. He was wearing a dark green flannel and his hair was tied in a messy bun. Loose tendrils framed his face. She wanted to touch them. She bet his hair was soft. Probably nicer than her own.

If she could just run her hands through…

Nesta realised that she was gaping at him.

Quickly righting herself, she swung open the car door. “Hey!,” she said.

“Hey yourself.” He kept that easy knowing smile, like there was something she was missing.

“You been here long?”

“Nope just got here.”

“Cool, let me just get these boots on and we can hit the trail.”

“Take your time, sweetheart.”

A little thrill went through Nesta at the casual way he called her that.

She ducked her head to hide her blush, focusing instead on her laces. She didn’t look at Cassian but she could feel his eyes on her, watching her.

Her hands shook.

She felt vulnerable, exposed, sitting in her low sports car, his presence looming.

He was so much taller than Nesta remembered, broader too. She was eye level with his powerful thighs wrapped in black work trousers.

There was something predatory about the way he stood. Dangerous. Not to her. Just that he was a powerful man, taking up space in a way he hadn’t the first time they met.

Nesta’s blood heated.

Finished tying her lace, she grabbed her backpack from the passenger seat and made to stand up. Cassian was beside her in an instant, arm outstretched like a gentleman to help her out of her car.

With anyone else she would have not so politely told them where to go, but with Cassian, she was happy to accept any excuse to touch him.

“Ready?” She asked, when she found herself parallel with his chest.

“Yep, you know the way?”

“Yeah I come up here all the time.”

“It seems nice,” Cassian said.

Nesta snorted a laugh, “This is the car park.”

“Yeah,” pink tinged Cassian’s cheeks. Something inside Nesta twisted, she didn’t know how it could go from intimidating in one moment, to adorable in the next. “I just meant the forrest…it seems like a nice spot to go hiking.”

“If you’re impressed by this, the view at the top is going to blow you away,” she said, setting off down the trail.

Cassian chuckled, he was behind her now, following her up the narrow path cut into the undergrowth. It would widen soon and they would be able to walk beside each other, but for now Nesta swayed her hips a little more than she normally would. “And if I’m not blow away?”

“Oh you will be.”

“Willing to bet?”

“Sure.”

Cassian paused for a moment, but when he spoke again, Nesta could hear the daring in his voice. “If you make me walk all the way to the top of this mountain and I’m not blown away by the view I want a kiss.”

“A kiss?” That liquid heat slicked through her again. Where was this bold Cassian the last time they went out? Trapped in that terrible hair perhaps?

“A kiss.”

“And if you make to the top and are blown away by the view?”

“Well then I’ll give you a kiss.”

She snorted, “So either way, we get to the top of this mountain and we’re kissing?”

“Sounds like good odds to me.”

“Sounds like rigged odds!”

“The first rule of gambling, sweetheart, the bookie always wins.”

She snorted a laugh.

“So what do you say, Nes, do you accept those odds?”

“Ask me again when we reach the half way point.”

Silence fell between them then. Heated. Until they rounded a corner and the path widened. Cassian fell into step beside her.

“Do you hike much in Illyria?” She asked him.

“No. I wish I could do it more, it’s so beautiful up there, but it’s…messy.”

“Messy?”

“Yeah,” Cassian shrugged, “There used to be great hiking all over Illyria, but now, the land has all been carved up and sold to logging companies and private developers. The paths all cut through private property so you’re trespassing if you want to hike a trail.”

“Ah, messy.”

“The old-timers really hate it.”

“I can imagine.”

“All of this wild land they had the free run of in their youth, now it’s all gone. Well, it’s still there but no one can use it.” Cassian ran a frustrated had through his hair. The movement showing off the size of his bicep. Nesta was sure it was bigger than her thigh. “There is this old guy in the town nearest me, real grumpy, his name is Beron. He always said that no one could push him off his ancestral lands, ya know?”

Nesta nodded. This was a story she knew all to well.

“So one day, he goes hiking on this trail that cuts through land owned by some development company, they want to log the forest and then extract minerals from the soil or some shit,” Cassian rolled his eyes dramatically, “Anyway, a week later, old Beron get’s a cease and desist letter in the mail from the development company. Apparently they have cameras all over their land and were able to identify him. It’s fucked up.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“No?”

“No. Stuff like this is happens all the time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Velaris and Hewn City are growing exponentially, and developers are swooping in to try and make a fast buck.”

“Illyria is not growing, it’s the opposite. Nobody under 40 lives there.”

“You live there.”

“Yeah well I’m special,” Cassian said with a wink.

Nesta gave him a playful shove with her shoulder, it did nothing to move the mountain of a man walking beside her. His shove back however…

It was enough to push Nesta off balance. Her foot caught on a rock. Her ankle twisted.

And then she was falling.

Her arms propelling in an attempt to grab hold of something.

To keep her off the ground.

Just as she toppled backwards a thick arm wrapped around her waist catching her. Pulling her tight against him.

“Shit sorry Nes, I didn’t mean…” his voice trailed off as is he realised the position they were in.

How close he stood to her.

One big arm wrapped around her tiny waist, pulling her body tight against his. Her hands clutching onto his thick arms, a reflex from when he grabbed her, but now she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to let go.

She liked the feel of him against her.

A zing went through Nesta as she realised her breasts were pressed up against his solid chest.

Her breathing hitched.

He noticed.

The laughter in his hazel eyes dying, only to be replaced with something more fierce, determined.

Their faces were so close together it wouldn’t take much for her to close the gap, to press her mouth against his full lips.

Her gaze flicked down in time to catch his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip.

His grip tightened on her.

The blood pounded through Nesta anchoring her to the moment. She was surrounded by Cassian, his strong body cocooning her. All she could see was him. All she could feel as he held her against him. She could hear her pulse beating in her ears, the shallowness of her breathing, the deep breath that Cassian took to steady himself before he learnt down, closing the distance between him.

Their lips met, tentative at first but soon Nesta found herself deepening the kiss. Her hands gripping at Cassian’s thick arms as she melted against his body.

She was on fire.

Never had she felt a kiss like this.

This was it.

Whatever it was.

She had found it.

————

Elain’s saw her hands trembling as she pushed the elevator button. The doors slid closed and she found herself staring at a mirror image of herself. She was dressed in a soft pink coat, with a matching pink scarf. Her makeup was simple but emphasised her eyes. Her hair was curled softly.

She had just finished fluffing her hair when the doors slid open. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the hallway, and froze.

There were two doors in the hallway, Azriel hadn’t told her which one was his. He had just said the penthouse.

Pulling her phone from her pocket she sent a message to Azriel. They didn’t text very often, preferring to talk on the phone. She just hoped that now he would reply quickly.

Hi Azriel, I’m outside but I don’t know which door is yours.

Standing in the hallway waiting for him to reply, Elain was suddenly overcome with a bout of nerves. She had been so excited to finally meet Azriel she hadn’t be worried, it felt like she had been going to meet an old friend, but it was in that moment she realised that she didn’t know this man. Had never met him. He could in fact be anyone.

And she was meeting him in his home.

This wasn’t safe.

She needed to get out of here.

Elain turned back to the elevator and pressed the call button just as the one of the hallway doors behind her opened.

“Elain?”

Hesitantly, Elain turned around to look at Azriel.

Oh. My. Gods.

His face was exactly how it appeared when they video called.

No.

It was even more beautiful in person.

His dark features, his floppy hair, his hazel eyes that were both shy and kind.

But the rest of him…

He was a hockey player. She knew that. What she hadn’t fully considered was what that meant.

He practically filled the door way. Long lean muscle.

He was wearing a grey jumper and dark grey slacks, so at odds with her pink.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice failing her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes…I just…”

“You just?”

“Er…I just realised that maybe this was a bad idea.”

She didn’t miss the hurt that flickered across his face. He moved then, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. It was only this movement that drew her attention to them; the scars that marred his hands.

A hockey injury?

“Was I not what you expected?” He asked, distress settling in his features.

“No, not at all.”

“I—.”

“No, I didn’t mean like that,” she exclaimed when she realised the way he must have taken that. “I just suddenly realised that it it maybe not a good idea to be in the apartment of some random man I don’t know.”

A small smile played on his mouth, as if he was trying not to laugh at her, and Gods was it not the most beautiful thing that Elain had ever seen. She wondered then what he must sound like when he laughed. Some subconscious part of her decided it was her mission to find out.

“I would say you know me pretty well.”

“I feel like I know you.”

Elain could have sworn his smile broadened slightly. “But I understand if you are uncomfortable.”

“I think the whole reality of the situation just suddenly hit me.”

“Yeah I get that.” He settled himself, leaning against the doorframe. He seemed in no rush to usher her inside, a fact that somehow set Elain more at ease. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course?”

“I’m terrified.”

Elain’s eyes went wide. “Why?”

“It’s been a long time since I was last on a date.”

“Sure.”

“No, it’s true! I haven’t been on a date in I don’t even want to know how long. I was with my last girlfriend for ten years and we broke up three years ago. I haven’t been on a date since.”

“But you’re so handsome.”

Azriel smiled now, a broad one, that lit up his whole face, and Elain felt something warm spread across her chest. “I’m flattered you think so.”

“It’s true.”

“Well that makes it all the more embarrassing then doesn’t it? Thirteen years since I last had a first date, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’re doing pretty great so far.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

“When was the last time you were on a first date?”

Elain hesitated. Her first date with Lucien had been just over two weeks ago. Her sisters had told her that dating multiple people was normal now, but after what Tamlin had said to her at dinner the other night…

She cut those thoughts off. If Azriel was the kind of guy that would speak to her the way Tamlin had spoken to her, the way Greyson used to speak to her, then it was better she found out now when she was able to turn around and flee in the elevator.

“Two weeks ago.”

“Oh wow.”

“But I also got out of a long term relationship.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, two years ago. That was the first date I’d been on since.”

“How long were you with your last boyfriend?”

“Five years.”

“You’ve been on two first dates in the last seven years, and you still have more experience that me.” Azriel was fully grinning at her now.

Elain felt her own smile match his. “It appears that way.”

“I understand if you feel too uncomfortable,” he swallowed, “but if you want to come in maybe we could figure this whole first date thing out together?”

With a buoyancy in her heart, Elain stepped towards the door.

————

Elain.

God’s Azriel had been struck stupid when he opened the door and she had just been standing there. Pretty in pink.

He understood her nerves. Gods he felt them too. All the time. He had been so overjoyed when she agreed to have dinner at his place that he didn’t think about what that might mean for her.

He was so grateful for her now, as she stepped across the threshold and into his apartment, that she had agreed to go through with it.

He wouldn’t have just let her walk away. Not after seeing her standing there in the hallway. Something in his chest had begun singing to him then. He would have asked her to go to a restaurant instead. Not that he ever went to restaurants. His anxiety didn’t allow it. His life was spent in his apartment, at the rink, or holed up in a hotel room whenever his team played an away game. He absolutely hated being in public, but for Elain, maybe he could try.

“This is for you,” Elain said, thrusting the potted plant that she had been hugging against herself, towards him, “It’s a snake plant. You said that you needed some plants to make your place more homely and this guy is pretty hard to kill. They don’t mind shady spots, or draughts, you can pretty much ignore them and they’ll reward you by purifying the air.”

Azriel smiled down at her, “Thank you,” he whispered, “you didn’t have to bring me anything.”

Elain flushed pink, “I know…but I wanted to.”

“You’ll have to help me find a good spot for him.”

She smiled then, that shy smile of hers that stirred things within him, “Sure.”

Gods how had he let it go so long.

Now he was finally around a woman and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He suddenly felt too hot and too cold at once. His gut twist, his heart pound, while other parts of him that he would never dare mention in the polite company of a lady began to throb.

“Let me take your coat.”

“Oh thank you.”

As Elain shrugged off her coat all of the electric heat in Azriel simmered to something closer to concern. He frowned. She was wearing a pink dress, with long sleeves and flowy skirt, it was beautiful on her but it did nothing to hide just how thin she was.

He hadn’t noticed when they had called, but she was absolutely tiny. He was sure her waist was about as thick as his thigh.

He hoped she was okay.

Hanging her coat up, Azriel led her down the hallway and into the open plan living space. “So where do you think this guy should go?” He asked, gesturing to the plant.

Elain paused, looking around the big room. “Maybe he should go over there?” She said, pointing to table near the window that held only a lamp.

Azriel padded across the room to position the plant on the table. “What do you think?”

“Looks good,” Elain smiled that smile again, “something smells good too.”

“I hope you’re hungry. I’ve got loads of food.”

“Spend all day in front of the stove?”

A sheepish smile spread across Azriel’s face, “I was going to try and pass the food off as my own, but I can’t take the credit for work I didn’t do.”

Elain giggled, “You ordered in?”

“I ordered in.”

She rolled her eyes, “I thought you promised to make me dinner?”

“I think I promised to get you dinner, you definitely don’t want to eat anything I make.”

“You can’t cook?”

“I can barely make coffee.”

“I’ll teach you to cook, if you want?”

Making future plans, clearly Elain felt more comfortable in his presence after their initial wobble. Good. “Are you a good cook?”

“I’m an amazing cook.”

Azriel chuckled, “Then I might just take you up on that offer, at leasts I can sample some of your amazing cooking.”

Elain laughed again. Gods that sound was so refreshing, Azriel didn’t think it would ever get old.

“So can I get you a glass of wine?”

“Yes, that would be nice.”

Azriel padded to the kitchen, to pour two glasses of wine. When he returned he found Elain staring dreamily at oneof the brightly coloured canvasses that Rhys had bought. He had hung them up this afternoon in preparation. He wanted his apartment to feel homey, not like he just moved in.

“Pretty cool, huh?” He asked, coming to a stand beside her. Gods she was dainty. Her head didn’t even come past his shoulder.

Elain took the glass of wine from his outstretched hand. Her fingers brushed lightly against his, causing a bolt of electricity to shoot through Azriel. “Where did you get it?” She asked.

“My manager bought them, but I can find out for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I know the artist.”

“Oh yeah? Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass against hers.

“Cheers! Yeah, it’s my sister.”

“The artist? No way?”

Elain nodded, “I just didn’t realise she was selling her work again.”

“Apparently so?”

“Indeed.”

“So, ugh, do you want to eat?”

The mention of food seemed to snap Elain from her reverie. “Sure.”

Padding back to the kitchen Azriel plated up to large plates of food. One for Elain, and then double for him.

Elain’s eye’s went big when he sat the plates down in front of her at the table. “You eat a lot of food.”

Azriel shrugged, settling himself across the table from her. “Food is fuel for me. I need it to keep up with training.”

And it’s nothing to be ashamed of he almost added. To Azriel’s great surprise however, Elain polished off the plate of food her served her, and then joined him for seconds. She did tap out before thirds, but it was still an impressive showing.

Azriel just hoped that it was a sign she was in some sort of recovery, and she wasn’t going to punish herself later. Or that she was sick in some other way.

After they had finished dinner they settled themselves on the couch to watch a film. Azriel preened over how close Elain sat to him. Their legs touching. He took it as a sign that she liked him, or at the very least that she was comfortable with him.

As the opening sequence began, Azriel stretched his arm across the back of the chair. Elain glanced up at him, smiling, she knew his game, but she didn’t stop him. She seemed content to allow his arm, slowly over the course of the film, drift down until it was slung around her shoulders.

By the time the film ended, Elain was snuggled into his side, her head resting against his chest.

Azriel hadn’t been paying close attention to the film, he tightened his arm around her as the credit began to roll. He didn’t want her to move. He was just so comfortable with her. Physically, as they lay together on the couch, but emotionally too. Elain was so easy to be around, his anxiety didn’t flare up.

Azriel knew he was starting to develop feelings for her.

It was just their first date and he was already a goner.

He could only hope that she felt the same way.

————

“You know when you said that I could hang with you tonight, so I could give Azriel his space?”

“Yeah?”

“I kinda figured you meant we could go to a sports bar or something.”

Rhys looked up at his friend. They were standing in the Velaris Gallery of Art, one of Rhy’s clients had a big installation opening tonight. Rhys had only planned to stop by for a short time, to show his face and congratulate his client on her big night, but Rhys had alway enjoyed art. What harm, he’d thought, if he just glanced at the exhibition. An hour later however, and he had only seen half of it.

Cassian had patiently trailed along behind him, making the occasional confused comment as to what exactly he was looking at.

The only paint strokes Cassian cared about were the weather proofing he slapped on his wooden cabin every summer to protect it in the winter ahead.

Gods bless him, he did not fit in here. He was just so big. He kept awkwardly twisting his body to avoid knocking over any of the exhibits. At any moment, Cassian risked bumping into something and the place falling like dominos.

His friend was clearly uneasy, in his work boots and a green flannel, he had come straight from his hike to the event so that Azriel could have his apartment for a date of his own. Rhys couldn’t help but feel bad for him, “I’m sorry man, I just got carried away.”

“It’s okay.”

“Nah, give me a half an hour, I’ll talk to my client and we can get out of here.”

“Yeah?”

“Just let me find her,” Rhys said, craning his neck to see if he could find her amongst the crowd. “There’s food over there is you want to park up and I’ll come find you in a bit?”

Cassian glanced to the table with a frown. “Is it, like, real food?”

“Real food?”

“I thought it was part of the museum?”

Rhys laughed, “It’s not part of the exhibition, no.”

Cassian nodded seemingly relieved, “I’ll be at the food table then.”

“Half an hour, and we can go, I promise.”

Cassian just waved a hand dismissively, as he headed for the snacks, “Take as long as you need.”

————

Feyre kept her head ducked as she made her way through the crowd. She was supposed to be working tonight, well she was working tonight but only in the sense that she was physically at work. She was supposed to be working the crowd, making introductions, chatting with artists, schmoozing potential buyers, but it was taking all her strength not to cry, and she wasn’t even succeeding at that.

It had been 48 hours since Tamlin proposed.

48 hours since he had got down on one knee in the middle of the street and asked her to be his wife.

48 hours since the tears had started spilling, not with the joy that Tamlin had first thought, but with fear.

48 hours since he started screaming at her in the street. How dare she reject him? She was nothing without him. Everything she had in her life was because of him.

48 hours since he left her sobbing in the street.

It had been 48 hours since she had last talked to the love of her life and it hurt.

Gods she needed a drink.

Sniffling she made her way to the drinks table, and took a large gulp from the first glass of wine she could lay her hand on.

“Eh…are you okay?”

Feyre looked over to the man who had spoke, a snotty laugh spluttered from her. The guy was huge, like a giant, dressed in outdoor work clothes. His shoulders curled protectively over the napkin he held in one hand and the cheese laden cracker in the other. As if anyone would even attempt to steel it from him anyway.

She wondered which artist had dragged him along to support them this evening.

He watched her with big hazel eyes. There was something about him that looked familiar. Comfortable. That was the only reason why the next words fell from her mouth. “I think I broke up with my boyfriend.”

“Aww shit,” the giant said, shaking his head like it was the worst thing he had ever heard. “That really sucks. Were you guys together long?”

“We were serious, he proposed,” Feyre’s voice caught on the last word and the sob racked her.

The giant swore. “No girly don’t cry, it’ll be okay.”

He somehow managed to ease himself around the table without knocking anything over, coming to rub Feyre on the back as she continued to so uncontrollably.

She didn’t know this man who was comforting her, but she sound herself turning into his chest, her tears wetting his t-shirt as she cried against him. One hand continued to rub her back, the other, she felt rather than saw, popped the final cheese and cracker into his mouth, before he pressed the crumby napkin into her hand. “Here, have a tissue,” or at least that sounded like what he said with a mouthful of cheese.

They stood like that for a few minutes until Feyre was able to get her breathing under control. She took a step back to look up at the man, dapping her eyes with the napkin he had given her. “I’m sorry,” she sniffed.

“Don’t worry about—,” the giant frowned, “You kinda look like some I know, you know?”

“Oh yeah?” Feyre wiped her nose, couldn’t be anyone good if her swollen tear stained face was anything to go by.

“Do you have sisters?”

“Two?”

“One of them called Nesta by any chance?”

Feyre froze, her eyes going wide as she looked up at the giant, “How do you know Nes—.”

A hand came out to clap the giant on the shoulder, “Hey man, you ready to go?”

Shit.

Well wasn’t this the last person she wanted to see right now.

The giant’s friend took one look at her and purred. “Feyre, darling.”

#the right swipe #acotar fanfiction

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thespianbooks · 4 years

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 23//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Sorry this chapter is late today, it’s just been a crazy hectic week, but I’ve been determined to still post on Monday’s dammit! Even at 8PM 😅 Enjoy!

XXX

A week into our newfound peace, Rhys and I were glad to be rid of Keir and the ongoing threat he posed, but now faced the aftermath of the Illyrians and the rebellion they had raised on their side of the coup. While Keir and his Darkbringer generals had been easily taken care of by Mor, we were now faced with the task of dispensing the repercussions to the Illyrian camp lords that sided with Kallon.

"I want all the camp lords dead," Rhys said—darkly and very matter-of-factly to our inner circle; all of us having gathered in the small cabin at Windhaven.

Following the battle, it only took a couple of days to round up the rogue Illyrians into the prison camps that had been established. Cassian had also separated the camp lords from their legions and imprisoned them separately. He, Azriel, Rhys and I decided early on that their sentences would differ from their soldiers as a warning that another attempt like this wouldn't be taken lightly—if our powerful friends throughout the other courts weren't foreboding enough. As the days passed, most of our court allies had returned back to their respective territories; Tamlin being the first, followed by Tarquin with the promise to send any other additional aide we might need; as well as good wishes for my mate and I and our baby. Eris left shortly after without any additional fanfare, but gave us a less-than subtle reminder of his father who continued to rot in their dungeons, though any thoughts of possibly dealing with the elder male left me weary. Rhys assured me that Eris would be more than pleased to manage with his father. Only a few days after that, Helion and Thesan agreed to stay behind with their general commanders and a small intel of higher-ranking soldiers in order to help keep an eye on our newly stationed prisons. They decided to leave the rest of this issue in our hands by wisely sitting out of the meetings Rhys and I had with our family.

Cassian visibly stiffened at my mate's words, but before he had a chance to protest, I held up a hand and turned to him. "That is almost half of the camp lords in Illyria, some that have been in their position for centuries, Rhys," I shared a quick exchange with Cassian, who looked on with approval.

"You, Cassian, and Azriel came to the conclusion long ago that this had to be dealt with more delicately, right?" I posed.

The tension in Rhys's shoulders remained, but his face shifted from dark to moderate as his eyes trailed over my rounded stomach; more pronounced than ever at this stage, and more so while I sat in the chair at the table we gathered around. With only a little less than two months to go, I was growing increasingly uncomfortable as the days dragged on. With the dust settled, the adrenaline I had gathered in the past weeks began to dissipate—leaving me with the aches and pains I had grown accustomed to, along with my more sluggish movement.

Rhys's gaze lingered on my stomach. "That was a decade ago, when we were speculating. Things played out a lot differently than we originally anticipated."

"But we had a hunch on this outcome, Rhys. Feyre is right, we were right back then. We can't kill our way out of this one," Cassian explained.

From the corner of my eye I noticed Azriel silently watching their exchange, arms crossed, and it didn't take much to assume what his opinion on the matter was.

"Well how else do we send a message to them? Apparently executing the camps who sided with Amarantha didn't send it clear enough, because they pulled this," Mor challenged.

I turned a withered gaze in her direction. She did have a point, but I still couldn't help feeling that simply sentencing high-ranking Illyrians to death wasn't the answer we needed.

"That, and the losses they suffered from the war with Hybern only added to their list of grievances against us. Adding more to their dead would only strengthen that point for them," Cassian argued.

"These people are ruthless," Nesta pointed out, staring Cassian down hard as his head turned at her words. "The only way to match that and make sure our point is received is by being equally merciless."

"The girl has a point, Cassian." Amren drawled from her spot next to me, her petite legs draped casually on the table. "Violence begets violence."

"We don't need any more violence," Elain suddenly said, surprisingly assertive—even as everyone directed their astonished stares at her.

"Feyre is about to have a baby. That baby is going to take over as High Lord one day, and we don't want him inheriting the difficulties you all have been dealing with for centuries," she explained. "The whole reason we sought to end this coup was to herald in a new era of peace. So, we have to establish that now. Somehow."

I smiled gratefully in return and noticed that while Nesta and Cassian stared at my otherwise timid sister, Azriel fought a grin on his composed face. Amren, however, allowed a long feline grin to grow on her lips.

"Wise words, girl," she said casually.

Mor's grin was friendly, but worried. "That would be ideal, but these are the Illyrians we're talking about."

"There must be something we can do," Elain insisted.

"There is," Rhys finally spoke up. "But will be hard pressed to find."

I drummed my fingertips along the apex of my belly, Sebastian mercifully sleeping after a night of constant kicking, and I debated aloud. "What if we took something of value to them? Something that would cost them they're rank and force them into different occupations in the camps? Like say...an ability?"

Azriel was the first to understand what I meant, eyes growing wide with an astonished blink, Rhys and Cassian following and looking equally shocked.

"That practice was banned centuries ago," Rhys said, though he didn't sound too bothered.

"In regard to females," Cassian interjected as he crossed his arms again with a smug smirk.

"It would certainly make them wish they were dead," Azriel added, also unbothered.

"And makes for a rather profound impact," I concluded with a small grin. "Any other sympathizers for their cause will think twice before trying to oppose our rule again."

Mor and Amren seemed to catch onto what we were implying, as did Nesta—who bent down to mutter in our sister's ear to inform her. Elain's eyes went wide but didn't protest.

"Well girl, it appears pregnancy hasn't affected that mischievous mind of yours," Amren mused, grey eyes almost seeming to shimmer as she spoke.

"It looks like we have our solution then," Mor said with a satisfied sigh. "Can we get the hell out of this frozen tundra now and go back to Velaris?"

Rhys nodded, placing a hand on the back of my chair. "We will, just as soon as Feyre darling delivers the sentences to the camp lords."

I blinked and turned my head to face him. "Me?" I asked.

"Well, it was your idea, my love," Rhys replied with a wicked grin.

"And since you weren't at the battle, it'd be good for them to hear and see their High Lady. Give them another reminder of your position and the power you hold as well," Cassian said.

I sighed tiredly, running both hands along the expanse of my belly. I wanted nothing more than to return to Velaris—return home and finally enjoy this newly-granted peace, before a new chaos ensued in the form of a newborn high fae infant.

I promise, the first thing I'll do when we return to Velaris is draw you a warm bath

And bring me as many chocolate covered strawberries as I want? I asked in return.

His responding chuckle was aloud as he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. I'll bring you whatever you're craving and more, my love

I smiled at him in return before facing the others. "All right, I'll address the camp lords and hand out their sentences, but I don't think I can stomach watching it all be carried out."

"Az and I will see to that, and we'll have the other prisoners and camp lords bear witness. That will guarantee that none of them ever try anything like this again," Cassian promised, though for a second I saw a glimmer of that long-held pain reflected in his eyes.

After the week it took to gather the last of our prisoners and the last efforts it took to clean up this mess, I still didn't get that moment alone to speak with Cassian. The night following the battle, Rhys had let down his black adamant shields, allowing me to see the fighting that took place after Keir's death. While the Illyrians and Darkbringers managed to hold their own for a time, they were certainly no match against our numbers with the other High Lord's forces combined. Even through his memories I could feel the ache my mate felt when facing his own people; the people and traditions he had been primarily raised in thanks to his mother. That ache and betrayal was just as present in Cassian, who would let out frustrated shouts of anger as he fought his fellow Illyrian warriors. Through Rhys's memory, I saw flashes of Cassian in battle and the inner turmoil he endured as he took down Illyrian after Illyrian. Both he and Rhys did their best to only knock them unconscious rather than kill them outright, but there were instances when it was their only option.

I stared at Cassian a little longer than I meant to, having realized it when he frowned with concern. "Feyre?" he asked.

I looked down at my lap, half covered by my belly, and squeezed Rhys's hand, still on my shoulder. "I need a moment with Cassian, please," I said to no one in particular.

Rhys pressed a kiss to the crown of my head as confirmation, and I didn't look up as I heard the scrapping of chairs as the others filed out of the cabin one-by-one. I waited until I heard the soft click of the door closing before I lifted my head to face the general—my general and commander.

My eyes stung as I sighed. "Cassian, I...I never got to apologize to you, for all of this," I started softly. "For your own people turning on you, and Rhys, and Az. For you having to fight them at all. I-I can't imagine how hard it must've been for you during that battle."

He crossed over to my side, pulling out a chair and turning it to face mine as he sat across from me. "Feyre, you're not the one who should be apologizing, there is no need," he said before taking my hands in his. "I have dealt with the Illyrians' resentment for centuries and learned a long time ago that I would never be more than some bastard-born nobody to them. I've accepted that."

"Still, to have to take down your own, to face them across the field and know of their intentions…" I said and shook my head with a sigh.

"It might've stung a little, but my loyalties lie elsewhere," he said with a small squeeze of my hands.

I offered him a sad smile in return, but he grinned. "I may command these legions, and consider myself a proud Illyrian male, but that is separate from you, Rhys, and the others. The Illyrians may be the foundation on which I was raised and trained, but Velaris—the rest of you, are my people."

Tears sprang to my eyes before I had the chance to control them and Cassian laughed, standing so he could kneel at my side and wrap an arm around my shoulders. He rubbed my back lightly as I cried.

"I'm beginning to wonder if you'll ever return back to the old Feyre once the little one is born. She was able to control her tears better," he contemplated.

I shoved his shoulder and he laughed again. "You have no idea how hard it is to control my emotions right now," I motioned to my stomach. "He has complete control over me."

"Oh, I don't envy that at all," he said before standing upright and offering me a hand up.

I sniffed as I took his hand, standing with a grunt of effort and resting a hand on the small of my back. "Thank you, Cassian," I said. "For helping make his world safer."

Cassian grinned in return, bowing with a hand over his heart—as he had when he swore his first oath to me. "Anything in service and protection for my High Lady," he said with a wink.

I laughed and after clearing away any lingering tears, he escorted me outside of the cabin; where I would address the imprisoned Illyrian camp lords and perform as High Lady for the last time before giving birth to their future High Lord.

XXX

Rhys's speech had been short and to the point. We agreed he would address the camp lords first before turning the verdict of their punishment to me. The minute the word clipped left my mouth, audible shocked gasps could be heard from the other camp residents and prisoners. Devlon's face was steeled over, despite having agreed with us on this course of action, I imagined the thought of losing one's ability to fly made every male here recoil—though Devlon's face remained as hard as ever.

Half of the camp lords looked disbelieving, thinking we wouldn't actually follow through on such a promise; until Kallon himself foolishly stepped forward and expressed as much, followed by spitting on the ground in front of where Rhys and I stood. Azriel had been quick in his response, a cobalt siphon flickering before a blue light shot out and flattened Kallon on his back—bright blue netting holding him down as he thrashed to get free. Azriel slowly walked over and forced one of the male's wings open, Truth-Teller in hand, before swiftly and brutally making the cut.

I tried not to look away even as my stomach churned at the male's screams. I continued to watch in abject horror until Rhys placed a hand on my back and led me away without another word, Cassian stepping into our place as we left.

The screams followed me all the way back to Velaris, Rhys carrying me in his arms as we flew through the skies as carefully as possible. Even now as I stood on the front balcony of the estate, overlooking the Sidra and city beyond, the anguished screams echoed through my mind for much longer than I wanted. It wasn't remorse that twisted in my gut—no, Kallon and every camp lord that decided to follow him deserved to be clipped as their punishment.

"It's the centuries and centuries you know that practice was performed on females," Rhys suddenly said from behind me, and I realized my shields were down as I twisted to find him leaning against the doorframe leading back into the estate. "And you're worried how they might retaliate."

I frowned, running both hands over the front of my stomach, holding it. "Do you think they will?" I asked softly.

Rhys sauntered over to me, pressing a lingering kiss to my brow. "It's certainly a possibility, but we'll be keeping a much closer eye on those camps, and the females residing there," he reassured me.

I sighed shakily with a nod, placing my hands on his shoulders. "I just...don't want them to use it as an excuse to clip any more females, even the ones that sympathized with their cause," I admitted.

"If they do, they'll pay the consequences. And for any other bullshit they try to pull," he pressed another kiss to my brow, both hands coming to hold my stomach. "But I have a feeling this will bring them down a couple notches, so we may not have anything to worry about for a while."

"I hope you're right about that," I said, closing my eyes with relief as he massaged the sides of my stomach, the muscles beneath my skin sore.

"Am I ever wrong, Feyre darling?" He asked with a wicked grin.

"You don't want me to answer that," I teased.

He gasped in mock hurt. "You wound me, my love," he said as his hands moved to my hips, eliciting a groan from my lips as he massaged the tender spots where the muscles of my stomach met my hips. "Come get some rest, it's been a hectic week."

I nodded and followed him back into our home, placing both of my hands on the small of my back as I began walking ahead of him. "Your son is starting to get heavier and heavier these days," I complained.

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the wide grin on his face and raised a brow as he watched me walk. "What is it?" I asked.

"Your gait has changed, Feyre darling, that's all," he said as he caught up to my side, resting a hand in place of mine on my back.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You're starting to waddle," he answered, his grin widening.

I balked and took a few more steps, noticing that I certainly was shifting my weight in a slight swaying motion as I walked. "Well, you can't blame me, I am carrying around a splendid burden in my gut."

"You certainly are, my love," he laughed as he guided me to the living area

I held onto both of his arms as I lowered myself onto the sofa, glad I had chosen such luxuriously soft furnishings for each room of the manor. "It's only going to get bigger...much bigger," I said as I stared at my stomach.

Rhys sat beside me, draping an arm over the back of the seat behind me. "That's a good thing. Madja says we want a healthy, cherub-cheeked babe," he said.

His violet eyes sparkled as he began stroking my stomach gently, his grin transforming into a warm smile. I smiled at him in return. "It's all just...becoming so real now. We've spent so much time worrying about the coup, and even though we had those periods of respite, it always lingered over us," I explained. "Now the only thing we have to look forward to is...becoming parents."

"Are you nervous?" Rhys asked, keeping a hand on my stomach.

I shook my head. "I'm excited to meet him, and hold him...to see you hold him," my eyes stung at just the mention of it and laughed at myself—exasperated at how quickly I continued to be reduced to tears.

Rhys pulled me closer, placing a kiss at my temple before moving to my ear. "I can't wait to see him in your arms, to see you nurse him and rock him to sleep," he purred.

I sniffed and nuzzled into his embrace, resting my face into the nape of his neck, breathing in his salt and citrus scent. "It's going to be wonderful isn't it?" I asked softly.

"That, and more," he replied, his chin resting atop the crown of my head as he inhaled my scent as well, both of us basking in each other as he caressed my belly—gratitude didn't even begin to explain what we were both experiencing in this moment.

Gratitude, and hope, and so much more.

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flowerflamestars · 4 years

Note

I just realized this... I was just wondering since daylight 3, what is going on with Feyre? everyone else seems to be involved in the war and everything that happened, but how does she feel about Rhys failing and all that? I know it's not about her and I'm more than happy not dealing with her nonsense, but I would think she would get quite psycho after everything.

Honestly, I love this question so much? ‘Quite Psycho’ is IT. Let’s go chronologically, as it does sort of weave in and out of the narrative

-Six months after Nesta left, Rhys and Feyre realize she’s gone. Rhysand immediately talks Feyre out of going after her, Fey goes off to hang out with Mor and gets her version of Cassian and Mor’s Nesta was always going to leave, the Cauldron broke the Archeron sisters conversation.

Then she goes to the Illyrian mountains, Rhysand grinning and flirting by her side, to look for clues. Because she thinks Nesta would leave her a note? or something? Feyre doesn’t understand the depth or conditions of Nesta’s loyalty.

- Some months later, Elain fights her way back to the present. She gets a front row to the argument Az honestly has almost every other day.

Feyre: YOU KNOW WHERE SHE IS

Az: (Silence)

Feyre: I KNOW YOU KNOW, I LOVE HER AND WANT TO HELP HER

Az: Order me. Try it.

-Meanwhile, in the background, the Illyrian rebellion is picking up slow speed as a brutal, bloody effort happening in time with a horrifically harsh winter and Rhysand kind of just... killing dissidents? He doesn’t want to. But they could threaten him, they could threaten Feyre.

-Further in the background, Helion has cut off the import of all nonessential items to the North. Gold. Whiskey. Morrigans wine. Summer fruit. Rhysand notices. Feyre doesn’t and he DOES NOT tell her

-Cassian goes missing between the lines of a disputed territory. His men can’t find him, the Night Court generals have heard nothing. Rhysand orders retaliation- Cassian reappears fighting against him.

-Then the massacre happens, and the rebellion really begins. This is Feyre’s tipping point. Initially Cas shows up across enemy lines and Feyre is like: do they have Nesta hostage? what about magic? Is he cursed?

Feyre cannot imagine Cassian siding against Rhys. They’re brothers! They’s family! She also problematically does not understand the intricacy of the conflict. Lets remember that Feyre is young and traumatized- to fight and move forward she’s always needed (had to) assign pretty clear good vs evil roles. She’s not fighting for a cause, she’s fighting against evil person. It’s deeply personal.

Cassian siding with the rebellion is about the stratification of Illyrian society- the bastards and women and downtrodden. But Feyre can’t unsee it as against Rhys, and when the rebellion takes out the Lords whose power was shipped up by Rhysand’s rule, Feyre thinks it’s unspeakable. Insane. Barbaric.

-Enter, Feyre remembering she has two dangerous sisters. Recall from Daylight 3, the Trouble Trio arriving ‘looking like they came from a firefight’ and ‘blood from Rhysands broken nose on Lucien’s hand’.

Azriel caught the thought that Rhysand was thinking maybe (maybe Cassian should. just. die.), and pulled back every spy he controlled on the off chance Rhys was going to pick an assassin.

At the exact same time, Feyre and Rhys go to see Elain and Lucien. Feyre rolls up like hey sister mine, remember the war? Remember how I bought you this insane mansion because you were too crazy to talk to? Remember how much I love you and how many ugly flower paintings I made for your walls?

And Rhysand is like, in all his ‘I’m being genuine’ splendor: We need your help.

Elain, perfectly sane as always: This isn’t the war.

Feyre, feyreing: But we are AT WAR. Cassian has gone crazy, Nesta is gone, the Court of Nightmares dogs our every step! I need you to be my sister.

It becomes clear, dear reader, that ‘be her sister’ means go back to battlefields to predict what the Illyrian’s are going to do so Rhysand can more effectively clobber them into a) grinding submission or b)total annihilation

Rhysand: I need your help. I want a safe world. A world safe for your sister.

Elain, who can see a thousand years into the past and a thousand in the future. Who knows Feyre is safe, rich, and perfectly fine. Who can see the five hundred years Rhysand spent doing the bare minimum while Cassian agonized. Who can also see right in front of her, Rhysand starting to make that same fucking face he made at Nesta, wanting her to lower her head, thinking that Elain is about to say yes: No.

Rhysand has a very Rhysand reaction to this, Azriel shows up to Lucien yelling at Rhys to fuck off because Elain is a person, not a tool, don’t look at me, she just told you she won’t do it- right in time for Lucien to break Rhysand’s nose.

They winnow to Day for asylum, which brings us up to the date.

-The last battle comes. Rhysand sends in the Darkbringer army, but stays away. The Darkbringers die, the land shakes, Cassian that is not Cassian rides out of Illyria on the wings of a storm carrying the wrath of generations and the power of a god.

He goes after Rhysand, to quote Lucien in Daylight 4 ‘like fucking vengeance’.

He takes Illyria from him, takes his wings. Rhysand kills him. (temporarily) The storm hits the walls of the City and Amren, ward-weaving tenacious monster Amren, remakes the border. Morrigan drags Rhysand bleeding back into the city, to Feyre’s waiting arms.

She leaves Cassian.

Feyre’s done. Rhysand will never fly again. Az killed Keir without Morrigan’s blessing- killed her whole family. She’ll still make sure Elain- crazy, broken, gentle, clearly hoodwinked Elain- is taken care of.

Feyre growls revenge, mops Rhysand’s brow. Stays in her beautiful City of Starlight, angry but content to rule her small kingdom. The world changes, but all she wants is peace.

Eventually, she hears the once again, Prythian has a Librarian. It’s whispered: the Ten Thousand Libraries, where all knowledge lives. Stories that breathe, information that knows your deepest need and cherished dream.

Feyre wonders, if there’s any secret that could ever let Rhys fly again, surely- surely it’s in the Library.

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theladyofbloodshed · 2 years

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Here is the thing about Cassian and Azriel. How is their influence in Illyria? I know Cassian is actively trying to change his people even when the progress is slow. And Azriel, he hated his people right? It is understandable. But i kept thinking, how will you change your people if you spend most of your time in Velaris? I know Cassian have his room in House Of Wind and practically lives there with mor, az. Then think of his people feel about this. Their general lives in velaris, safe warm clean no clipping wing. As if their own general is running from illyria and they know of it.

If it was me, I feel rather sad and offended. Sjm keep using this "bastard" excuses for cassian to be outcast from his people. But that somehow dont make sense. There must be a few male willing to be his friends if effort is make. Not all illyria is horrid as depicted. And jf he had no friends in illyria, how is he going to change his homeland?

"A man with no friends, is a man with no power". I stayed true to this and I believe Cassian is accepted as general merely because of Rhys. If Rhys is discarded in this dynamic, where would Cassian stand? I feel as Cassian whole life is too dependent on Rhys influence. Make friends with your people, Cassian. Learn them, show them, win them. You need friends outside your inner circle. Apart from feyre having no friends outside the IC, same goes to all of them. They need friends outside their IC, outside velaris. It so weird you know being so tied to your circle. It is not healthy.

Bit by bit, Cassian can change Illyria, he can do it without Rhys if he plays his role as friends well. To influence a person, surely you need to be likeable, at least relatable, then you became friends. As for Cass, he is already Illyria, stay true to his people, this can be a start. Convo about the celebration, food, song. How can he not have a single friend outside IC?

It is not surprising Illyria wanted to rebel. I would too. Their only voice to the HL is their general. And EVEN their general has little voice in it. They are not heard you know. Despite all the power Rhys have, his influence stand behind this 'fear' he created, not from the respect of his people. Same thing goes his people in hewn city. Who is Mor to them? What influence Mor have on them? Did she have friends in hewn city? No, she practically ditch them to be this 'dreamer' while the rest left in their nightmare.

Then we have this whole Feyre and her wing. Goodness, what does Azriel see and feel when he taught her to fly? Then goes back to his mother and see the wing clipped while his High Lady flaunt it? Goodness, it riled me up thinking about this.

Cassian could be pivotal to change in Illyria. If the society is as bad as they say then there would be many more little boys - just like Cassian - who are abandoned and have to fend for themselves. He could be their role model. Someone like them who now stands alongside the high lord. He could be the one they look up to and respect. Cassian could give them hope that they aren't just bastard born, lowest members of society. Instead, they have to start from the bottom rung of the ladder, fighting for any scrap of respect - and never receiving it because "that's how Illyria is".

I absolutely agree with you that it's crazy that they don't have any of the IC residing in Illyria or the Hewn City. How can they spearhead change if they hate to be in the place? They don't have the respect of the people because they don't deserve it. They have utter disdain for Illyria and the Hewn City. Their only appearances are to belittle them or to recruit them for a war.

It's the same attitude of Mor; well I got out so too bad to the others! In ACOMAF, when they arrive at Windhaven, Mor says the place should be burnt to the ground - literally as they arrived there. They all have such disgust for the place, but none of them will put in the work to change it. It is your job!! You are the leaders!!

Feyre could literally shift to any sort of wings. Fairy wings. Butterfly wings. Bird wings. But she chooses Illyrian. It's such a slap in the face to all the Illyrian woman who have to bow down to her as high lady. I think if Rhys' mother had her wings clipped - if his father arrived a minute too late - then maybe they'd have started to change things. I never actually considered what it must be like for Azriel to see it as we believe is still alive (and presumably clipped). Also as he didn't learn how to fly until he was 11 then surely he should be even more motivated to stop females losing their flight?

#anon asks

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sunnydaleherald · 4 years

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crackspinewornpages · 4 years

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Twelfth-Night; or, What You Will -William Shakespeare

A1S1

In the dukes’ palace there’s the duke Orsino, Curio and other people, “If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it, that, surfeiting the appetite may sicken, and so die.”p.343 Curio asks if he will go hunt the hart and the Duke says when he saw Olivia he was turned into one and his desires are like hounds perused him. Valentine enters saying he wasn’t admitted as Olivia is in mourning for her father and brother. The duke wonders how she will love when she pays it all to her dead brother and it killed all other afflictions. (dude people are allowed to mourn how they want and are allowed to stay single as they want and your callous attitude isn’t winning you any points)

A1S2

At the sea coast there’s Viola, the captain and sailors, Viola asks what country they washed up on and the captain says Illyria and Viola wonders what she should do as her brother is in Elysium (basically Greek heaven) after drowning. The captain says there’s a chance and to assure herself when the ship split he saw her brother tie himself to the mast. She asks the captain if he knows the country, he was born and bred there and a duke governs it, and there’s word he’s in love with Olivia. Her father and brother recently died, “for whose dead love, they say she hath abjur’d the company and sight of men.”p.344 Viola comes up with a plan, “conceal me what I am, and be my aid for such disguise as haply shall become the form of my intent.”p.344 (I see why the LBTQ community likes this play) She’ll serve the duke as a eunuch (a man that was fully castrated she uses this as an excuse as to why she has a high voice) and the captain agrees to help her and not say a word.

A1S3

In Olivia’s house, Sir Toby talks to Maria asking what’s wrong with his niece. (you mean besides the fact her father and brother just died) Maria tells him to come earlier, to dress better and behave himself. Sir Toby doesn’t see what’s wrong with his outfit, Maria says his drinking is the problem and she heard Olivia speak of the knight he introduced to her. Sir Toby doesn’t know what’s wrong with Andrew he’s tall, makes three thousand ducats a year, plays the viol-de-gambol and speaks four languages. (but how’s his personality) Maria says while that may be true, he’s also a fool gets into fights and is a coward, “tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of the grave.”p.344 Sir Toby demands to know who says that and Maria tells him they also say he frequently gets drunk with him, Sir Toby says it’s drinking to Olivia’s health, oh here he comes now.

They greet each other and introduces Olivia’s chambermaid and keeps getting her name wrong. Maria leaves and Andrew asks if she has fools in hand Maria replies she has him in hand. (oooh) When she’s gone Toby asks what has him down, Andrew says he sometimes thinks he has no more with than a Christian (ey) or ordinary man or it could be the beef he eats. (or it could be you drink them away) He’ll ride home tomorrow wishing the time he spent on language on the arts, Toby says he has good hair, regardless he’ll ride home tomorrow as his niece won’t have him as the Count woos her. Toby says she won’t worry above herself, Andrew agrees to stay a month and they’ll party together.

A1S4

In the Duke’s palace Valentine tells Viola dressed as a man going by the name Cesario if the duke continues to favor them they’ll advance in no time, he’s not inconsistent in his favors. The duke Orsino, Curio and attendants enter and the duke calls over V/Cesario and orders them to go to Olivia’s and don’t leave until they have an audience. When they see her tell her how much he loves her she’ll listen to them better than someone older. V/Cesario says they’ll do their best, “yet, a barful strife! Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife.”p.346 (yup she fell in love with this guy)

A1S5

In Olivia’s house Maria has the clown, Feste, (haha get it his name is Feste sounds similar to festive and he’s a fool) tell them where he’s been the lady would have him hanged for his absence. “Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.”p.346 Maria warns he could be turned out is that as bad as hanging to him, he says hanging prevents a bad marriage. He’s resolved on two points but Maria says Olivia is coming and to make his excuse wise, “Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.”p.346

Movolio and Olivia enter and Olivia orders the fool taken away and the clown tells them to take away Olivia. Olivia says she’s tired of him and he’s dishonest, Feste says he can prove she’s a fool, “to mourn for your brother’s soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.”p.347 Olivia sees his point and calls Movolio distempered and Maria informs them that a young man is at the gate wanting to speak with her. Olivia gives her orders to take care of it and tells Movolio if they’re from court she’s either sick or not at home (I like that this excuse is that old) and tells Toby what’s going on so he leaves. Feste jokes about him and Olivia sends him to make sure nothing happens to her uncle.

Movolio comes back the man at the gate won’t leave and she asks what type of man it is, well he’s not bad looking. Olivia says she’ll allow him to see her (letting a guy in your house because you want to see a cute boy) and has Maria put her veil on. V/Cesario enters and Olivia says to speak V/Cesario says they can only say it to the lady of the house and Olivia finally says it’s her. It’s a poetic, heartfelt message, Olivia says she heard them at the gate and to be brief, “It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my hand; my words are as full of peace as matter.”p.348 Maria has her attendants leave them alone.

The message is from the duke Orsino and V/Cesario asks to see Olivia’s face and she lifts her veil and V/Cesario praises her beauty. V/Cesario sees she’s proud but Orsino loves her with adorations but Olivia can’t love him and he won’t take that as an answer. “If I did love you in my master’s flame, with such suffering, such a deadly life, in your denial I would find no sense, I would not understand it.”p.349 V/Cesario says they would stay at the gate and sing about love and yell her name to the hills, Olivia (finding this very romantic) tells V/Cesario to tell Orsino she can’t love him and to tell her how he takes it. After they’re gone Olivia repeats V/Cesario’s words she’s intrigued and calls Movolio and orders him to return a ring V/Cesario supposedly dropped and when they return she’ll tell them why she won’t give Orsino a chance. “I do I know not what, and fear to find mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.”p.349 (it seems girls know what girls want)

A2S1

Antonio asks Sebastian if he can go with him, Sebastian says his fate looks worse than his and he will face his evils alone. He reveals the truth, that he is a prince of the Messaline and his twin sister drowned at sea. They look alike, but she was beautiful but she is drowned and he still drowns he with memory. Antonio says he’ll be his servant but Sebastian won’t accept since he’s going to Orsino’s court, full of enemies (apparently their two countries don’t like each other we’ll see how it turns out) but Antonio still follows him.

Movolio is following V/Cesario to return the ring and says they should come again to report Orsino’s response. V/Cesario won’t take the ring, Movolio says it’s Olivia’s will to give it to them. V/Cesario worries that they charmed Olivia, certain they left no ring and is horrified to think Olivia is in love with them. (darn you false identity shenanigans two woman can’t possibly be together…this didn’t age well today) What will become of it since they are actually a woman they have to untangle this. “My master loves her dearly; and I poor monster, fond as much on him; and she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.”p.350 (a love triangle not whatever those Twilight books had)

A2S3

Toby and Andrew come into Olivia’s room drunkenly singing and reciting proverbs. Feste comes in and they all joke and make asses of themselves, then Maria comes in and yells at them for being loud, it’ll get them thrown out. They ignore her until they see Movolio who calls them crazy, if they don’t have respect them leave. They act like asses and Movolio goes to tattle to Olivia, they’re all sick of him and decided to make fun of him. Maria plots to drop a love note to him in Olivia’s handwriting. “My purpose is, indeed, a horse of the colour.” “And your horse now would make him an ass.”p.352 (sometimes I just love Shakespeare’s wordplay) They plan to leave it where he can find it and hide to watch him, they celebrate with more drinking.

A2S4 In duke Orsino’s palace Orsino orders Curio to get Feste and whines to V/Cesario, “if ever thou shalt love, in the sweet pangs of it remember me; for such as I am all true loves are: unstaid and skittish in all motions else save in the constant image of the creature that is belo’d.”p.352 V/Cesario hints that they are already in love, Orsino believes them and asks what the woman looks like, V/Cesario describes Orsino. Orsino (failing to understand the obvious) tells them to find someone younger and V/Cesario says they’ll think about it. Feste comes in and sings a melancholy song that makes them depressed and the duke has him leave.

After everyone leaves Orsino tells V/Cesario that they must return to Olivia’s house and convince her of his love and refuses to answer what to do if she protests. (no means no) V/Cesario says they must, “Say that some lady, as perhaps, there is, hath for your love as great a pang of heart as you have for Olivia: you cannot love her; you tell her so; must she not then be answer’d?”p.353 Orsino refuses to believe women can love with a passion like men and no woman can compare to his love to Olivia. (Viola what do you see in this guy) He asks what do they know, too well that women are true of heart their father had a daughter perhaps if they were a woman, but stops before they reveal the truth. Orsino wants to know more and V/Cesario makes up a story that the sister loved so passionately and privately she died and they are the last child of the house. The duke gives V/Cesario a jewel to give to Olivia and not to take no for an answer.

A2S5

In Olivia’s garden Toby, Andrew and Fabian meet up all eager to make a fool of Movolio. Maria comes and has them hide in the trees as Movolio is coming as he does he’s reveling in the fact Olivia supposedly loves him. While the others are making fun of him in the trees Movolio fantasizes about being marred to Olivia and being able to give the orders. Movolio then sees the letter Maria planted saying he should wear yellow stockings and talk funny to prove he loves her, he’ll do it. (no questions asked) When he’s gone the others are happy he fell for it and how he’ll look like a drunken fool.

A3S1

In Olivia’s garden V/Cesario and Feste are having a conversation, Feste says he lives in a house by a church, “So thou must say, the king lives by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him;”p.356 and they have a friendly verbal spar. V/Cesario stops it and pays him a sixpence, Feste says it would be better if he were an older and wiser man. V/Cesario almost reveals the truth when they say they are sick for one and Feste leaves to announce V/Cesario’s arrival to Olivia, “This fellow is wise enough to play the fool, and to do that well craves a kind of wit:”p.356 (how I wish for a wise fool in office and less foolish fools) He must check everyone he jests and adjust a practice full of labor. (no such thing as unskilled labor)

Toby and Andrew enter and greet V/Cesario impressed with them and Andrew copies their mannerisms. Olivia and Maria enter and Olivia dismisses the them so she can be alone with V/Cesario. She tries to get them to say words of love and doesn’t want to hear of Orsino and admits to planting the ring to get them to come back. V/Cesario says they pity her, Olivia takes it “If one should be a prey, how much the better to fall before the lion than the wolf!”p.357 (not well) Olivia says she won’t press them for love and before they leave asks if Olivia has any words for Orsino and she says to stay. They both confess they are not what they seem and V/Cesario says for now they are Olivia’s fool and Olivia soliloquys a declaration of love. “By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, and that no woman has; nor never none shall mistress of it, save I alone.”p.357 They leave and Olivia wants them to come back.

A3S2

Toby, Andrew and Fabian are in Olivia’s house and Andrew is frustrated Olivia won’t return affections she favors V/Cesario. Fabian says that favor is only a ploy to disguise her love for Andrew, (of course because everyone knows woman cant be straightforward and like to play games) he should have accosted her and beat up V/Cesario and now lost his chance in Olivia’s eyes. Now he deeds to redeem himself with something glorious, Toby says to beat V/Cesario in valor and Olivia will notice, so go and write a challenge to them. When Andrew leaves Toby and Fabian laugh certain that neither will challenge the other in a duel. Maria enters telling them that Movolio is acting crazy in accordance to the letter and Toby wants to see.

A3s3

In a street Sebastian and Antonio tells him he won’t leave him alone out of concern risking recognition and arrest. Sebastian is grateful and where should they go, Antonio says tomorrow as he explains he fought with the king’s people and will pay for it. He gives Sebastian his purse and tells him to go to the lodge after going around the town he’ll meet him there. (in no way will this go wrong)

A3S4

Olivia and Maria are in the garden and Olivia tells her she told V/Cesario to come back and what should she do and wonders where Movolio is. Maria tells her he’s acting crazy and Olivia has her bring him. When she comes back with him Olivia asks what’s wrong with him but he won’t explain and recites lines from the letter Olivia believes its madness. A servant comes to say V/Cesario is here and Olivia leaves Movolio to Maria. When she’s gone Movolio is angry it didn’t work, Maria gets Toby and Fabian and Fabian says, “If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as improbable fiction.”p.360 (almost breaking the fourth wall there) They decide if they lock him up the house will be quieter.

Andrew gives his challenge to Fabian to look over and Toby says if the letter doesn’t move V/Cesario he will and tells Andrew to wait for them in the orchard. With him gone Toby sates he won’t deliver the letter since it’s not terrifying enough, he’ll make up his own challenge and paint Andrew a figure of rage and skill. Fabian says Olivia and V/Cesario are coming now and to go and deliver the message. V/Cesario again asks her to give Orsino the time of day, Olivia just gives them a broach with a miniature of herself inside and wants them to come again tomorrow. (got yourself a bit of a problem here Viola)

Toby and Fabian return to see V/Cesario and tell them Andrew is waiting for them to challenge a sword fight and he’s already killed three men. V/Cesario panics since they are actually a woman and wasn’t taught sword fighting and has no quarrel with Andrew and will return to the house. Toby says they must face him and goes to get him and Fabian also says he’s skillful and to make peace if he can. Toby comes back with Andrew bolstering up V/Cesario and they won’t be pacified, and Fabian can barely hold them back. Andrew woes that he thought he was being valiant, and Toby taunts the two to fight. (honestly this seems hilarious)

Antonio enters and offers to take V/Cesario’s place thinking Viola is Sebastian and draws his sword. Toby asks who he is, “One sir, that for his love dares yet do more than you have heard him brag to you he will.”p.362 V/Cesario tells Andrew to put up his sword as officers arrive and arrest Antonio. Antonio thinking V/Cesario is Sebastian asks for his purse back of course V/Cesario doesn’t recognize him or has the purse. Antonio in enraged by this perceived ingratitude for saving him from drowning. “In nature there’s no blemish but the mind; none can be call’d deform’d but the unkind: virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil are empty trunks o’er flourish’d by the evil.”p.363 The officers carry him off and V/Cesario wonders if Sebastian survived and leaves the duel, Toby and Fabian call them a coward and encourage Andrew to beat them up. (in no way this backfire)

A4S1

In the street Sebastian and Feste are talking and Feste mistook Sebastian for V/Cesario insisting Olivia sent for him. Sebastian is annoyed and pays him to go away then threatens him, then Andrew shows up and punches Sebastian, Sebastian, in turn, kicks his ass and calls everyone mad. Toby and Fabian show up and Feste leaves to inform Olivia of the fight as Toby holds Sebastian back, but Andrew still wants to fight him (stay down if you know what’s good for you) and Sebastian surprises everyone by telling him to draw his sword. Olivia arrives telling them to stop and sends Toby out of her sight leaving just her and who she believes is V/Cesario. She tells Sebastian to come with her to the house and she’ll tell him about all of Toby’s antics Sebastian is confused but follows her. “Or I am mad, or else this is a dream: let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep; if if it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!”p.364 (a beautiful woman comes out of nowhere and wants you to follow seems like a dream)

A4S2

In Olivia’s house Movolio is in a dark room and Maria and Feste plan to play pranks on him, Feste will pose are a parson and Toby plays along. Movolio thinks he’s a parson and says they locked him in there and Feste knows enough Latin and drivel to convince him. Toby thinks it’s enough and wants to release Movolio but is also afraid Olivia will kick him out. Toby and Maria leave and Feste continues to fool Movolio and he wants him to tell Olivia he is sane and asks to write a letter to her Feste sings as he goes to get pen and paper. (I guess mentally tormenting a person was funny back then)

A4S3

In the garden Sebastian wonders what’s going on, he’s not crazy, a beautiful countess is in love with him and he can’t find Antonio. He thinks it’s all a dream but he has the pearl Olivia gave him, perhaps she is mad or he is. Olivia comes back with a priest and she’s apologizing for the haste (ordinarily a random woman declaring her love as soon as she meets you and pressures you into marriage that day is a red flag but this is Shakespeare it usually works out) and Sebastian agrees to marry her now and keep it a secret until later.

A5S1

In the street Fabian wants to see Movolio’s letter but Feste won’t give it to him. Then Orsino, V/Cesario, Curio and attendants arrive. Feste and Fabian identify themselves as Olivia’s friends, Feste makes a joke and the duke gives him a coin and has him inform Olivia he is here. V/Cesario says the man that saved them from Andrew is a hero as Antonio and the officers arrive. Orsino recognizes him as a pirate that attacked his fleet, V/Cesario vouges for him, even though he spoke strangely. Antonio claims he was never a pirate but was his enemy that witchcraft brought him and calls V/Cesario an ungrateful boy whose life he saved despite the danger and gave him his purse then denied him. (if anyone does this play can they use the most girly purse they can find like the rest is historic it’s just the purse) Orsino asks when they came to town, three months ago.

Olivia and her attendants arrive as the duke calls Antonio’s words madness as V/Cesario has been with him for that time. Olivia asks Orsino what he wants and asks V/Cesario why they didn’t keep their appointment and the duke turns on V/Cesario and threatens them. V/Cesario agrees to leave with him despite his threats, “And I, must jocund, apt, and willingly, to do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.”p.367 When Olivia asks where they’re going, V/Cesario says because they love Orsino more than their life, more than they would a wife. Olivia cries that she was beguiled to V/Cesario’s confusion (I bet they’re all kinds of confused by now) and Olivia sends for the priest as Orsino orders V/Cesario to come and she orders them to stay as V/Cesario protests. (again if anyone is doing this play can Orsino and Olivia tug on V/Cesario’s arms)

The priest comes and confirms he married them just two hours ago, Orsino accepts it but never wants to see V/Cesario again when Andrew arrives with a busted face. He’s calling for a surgeon and Olivia asks what’s wrong he says V/Cesario just beat him and Toby up, he thought they were a coward but they are the devil. V/Cesario says they never touched him but he drew his sword without cause, Andrew says they did hurt him and here comes Toby. Feste is leading him as he claims V/Cesario beat him but he’s also drunk and Olivia has him sent away and Andrew to help him. (I’m guessing she’s just done with their shit by this point)

Sebastian then runs up to Olivia apologizing for hurting her uncle and Orsino notices the similarities to V/Cesario. “One face, one voice, one habit, two persons;”p.368 Sebastian sees Antonio and is relieved, he was worried and Antonio calls him and V/Cesario an apple cut in two, Olivia calls it wonderful. (I’m sure you do think that) Sebastian wonders what is going on since he doesn’t have a brother, how are they related. V/Cesario says Sebastian was their father’s name and their brother’s, who drowned and Sebastian says he had a twin sister, they describe their father who died when they were thirteen. V/Cesario reveals they are Viola and the captain will prove it since he helped disguise her, she then went to serve duke Orsino.

Sebastian tells Olivia she was mistaken and would have married Viola but, luckily, he is also a bit of a maid. (this most likely meant he is a bit feminine but the LGBT community could takes this so many ways) Olivia calls for Movolio, even though he is crazy right now, he knows where the captain is. Orsino tells Viola she told him she loves a woman like him, she says it’s true and he asks to marry her. Feste comes with the letter and Fabian, Olivia has him read the letter, Olivia still has Movolio sent for and she and Orsino have a truce. Orsino tells Viola that she did so much against her sex and beneath her breeding and will make her his mistress and Olivia calls her sister.

Fabian comes back with Movolio who claims Olivia did him a terrible wrong and Olivia denies it. Movolio hands her the supposed letter she left, he did everything it said to, why did she make it a joke. Olivia says it’s not her handwriting, but Maria’s and she was the one who told her he was mad. She knows who made the practical joke and he’ll be the judge of them, Fabian immediately folds and confesses everything. (some friend you are) Feste quotes some lines from the letter and Movolio swears revenge on them all and everyone goes to talk except for Feste. He stays to sing a philosophical song about men’s lives, “A great while ago the world began, with hey, ho, the wind and the rain; but that’s all one, our play is done, and we’ll strive to please you every day.”p.370

#twelfth night #william shakespeare #books #book summaries #play #comedy #romantic comedy

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we-pay-for-everything · 6 years

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If you had to choose: Fred or Illyria? Vamp Willow or Dark Willow? Drusilla/Spike or Darla/Angel? Bangel in Season 2 or Season 3? Season 3 of Angel or Season 5 of BtVS since I know those are your least favorite seasons from both shows? Jonathan or Andrew? The Mayor or Glory as a big bad? Hope you have fun answering these!

Winifred Burkle or Illyria?

This is a hard choice! I love Illryia. I think her character is super interesting, in particular because of her relationship with Wesley. I love Fred too, but she’s not a late addition like Illryia is. She has a much bigger role in the show. She’s more flawed and complete. It seems unfair to compare the two of them. Fred irks me a lot sometimes, but I think, out of loyalty, I have to choose her!

Vampire!Willow or Dark!Willow?

Vampire!Willow really doesn’t do it for me. The Wish and Doppelgangland have always been overrated episodes imo. Dark!Willow is much more interesting than Vampire!Willow because she’s an extension of Willow, a direct consequence of her actions. I get a kick out of Dark!Willow in season 6. I love it when she flays Warren, and I love how she flaunts her powers. She’s fun!

Drusilla/Spike or Darla/Angel?

Drusilla/Spike is a weird, fun, but also superficial relationship. Dru ditches Spike, and vice-versa, all the time. Honestly, we don’t know much about how Drusilla changed Spike, and the other way around too.

Darla and Angel have such a dark, complicated, compelling history! From Liam to Angelus to Angel, Darla knew Angel at all of these different points in his life. She helped shape the person he is today, she gave him Connor. And Darla was just as changed by Angelus and Angel. She found peace because of Angel.

Bangel s2 or Bangel s3?

Buffy and Angel in season 2 are kinda immature, cute, exasperating, tragic, fun. I love watching them get together, and say goodbye to. Buffy and Angel change each other, but without really noticing it. It’s a very superficial story in a way; it’s two people paying house. In season 3, Buffy and Angel have a much better and bigger understanding of themselves and each other. It’s great watching them grow and face the world head on.

AtS s3 or BtVS s5?

These are two of my least favorite Buffyverse seasons! But, I’ll always pick AtS! Season 5 annoys me, but I’m not emotionally invested in it, and nothing about the season is impactful to me (except The Body and Buffy’s death). But season 3 has Darla, Lullaby, Connor, Wesley’s arc, Weslah, Lilah, etc. I love Angel even when it sucks. I’m so disappointed in the season. It had the potential to be much more than it was, but it still has good writing.

Jonathan Levinson or Andrew Wells?

Jonathan deserved better. I feel like he was ret-conned in season 4 and onward. He was never bad or violent, and they changed about him. He was with us from the beginning and he was killed off in season 7 in favor of Andrew. That’s sad! Andrew can be funny, but he’s also a shitty person who overstayed his welcome on the Buffyverse and likes to talk about shit he doesn’t know anything about.

The Mayor or Glory?

I’m not that crazy about The Mayor, but Glory is such an annoying villain!

Thanks for the ask! This was fun!!

#ask #btvs #ats #thanks #Anonymous

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spuffyverseonthecomics · 6 years

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BtVS S12 - The Reckoning #1

A good issue for a beginning of a story that has the ambition to be big (“the culmination of all Buffy seasons!”). Its pace is just crazy, it's like the writers were sitting in their desk with someone yelling in their ears: go, go, go! But how could it be different in a season with only 4 issues and... so many characters?

It's really crowded – Xander and Dawn moving to a new house was handy, because at their old condo all these people surely wouldn't fit! And aside for the baby (or not...), all of them have to have their time to shine; we're talking about Buffy, Spike, Willow, Giles, Xander and Dawn plus Angel, Illyria and Faith, plus Fray, Erin and Harth, plus a bunch of demons – including the return of The Mayor in his Olvikan form (yes, as an Old One, he didn't die when Buffy... killed him). And Andrew was expected to show up any minute (if he could “catch an earlier flight”).

So, the baby girl who became worldwide famous by appearing on the cover of the first issue is Joyce, the daughter of Xander and Dawn. Mystery solved! To start this new chapter in their lives, the couple has moved to a new house, and are throwing a housewarming party when Angel and Illyria show up at their door, uninvited: while Illyria announces they are lovers (and Buffy seems not to care a bit), Angel tells everybody something wicked their way comes.

Unbeknownst to them, far ahead in the future, vampire Harth is planning a trip to the present to make the definitive battle he has in his memory (part of the Slayers' memories he got from his twin sister Fray in the womb) happen.

But, before the action begins...

Willow has a Center who “foster women's empowerment and connection to the natural world”, and is running a blog; she says many Slayers have joined the Center, and that they are getting threats; she worries about the Government seeing them as dangerous, like in those times of the Slayer army (Season 8). She's in contact with Riley, though, and he says he won't let that happen again.

Giles is good. He's back to his former old self. Yep, a spell was found, and like magic, we have Adult Giles back.

Buffy and Spike... have broken up. Because they “don't work as a couple when nothing is going wrong” with the world, according to Buffy. It was mutual, which both of them keep repeating during the party. Buffy says she and Spike aren't mad at each other, just to ask Xander nervously a second later if Spike could be mad at her. At the party, Buffy is sitting alone (with a glass of wine in her hands), looking miserable, when Willow approaches her and asks if she's OK. She isn't. She says “it's not me and Spike, it's just me”. She is now 30 years old and then... we read Buffy saying pratically the same words Buffy spoke at the rooftop in the beginning of Season 11, right before the attack of the Shenlong dragon (see it here). She sees her friends growing, while she's stuck with the fighting (she is working as a counselor to the San Francisco Police, and has refused to work with them full-time). She thinks “normal” isn't for her and gray isn't her color – Buffy, who had came to the conclusion that she had “learned that the world isn't black and white” (Season 11, #3). WTF???

Action time:

Angel tells he has info about an attack that is about to happen against Willow's Center; Wolfham & Hart is involved, and some vampire from the future is giving info to them. Buffy knows who the vampire is (because in the future there is only one bad vampire, of course): Melaka Fray's twin brother Harth, who she met years ago when she was sent to the future (Season 8 Time of Your Life). They all – except Dawn, who stay behind because Joyce has to be fed – go to the Big Bad's lair (Wolfham & Hart, Silicon Valley), meet Faith there, it's a trap (because Harth, who has already arrived from the future, knows exactly how things come to pass), Faith and the Mayor exchange some harsh words, the good side of the force have their ass kicked, and through a portal opened by Dawn, they escape. Awesome!

But there's still more:

Back home, Buffy remembers the library Fray has (in the future), and how its books could be useful to them right now. Simple solution: they will just drop by the future, where Giles can decipher the old books and save them all. With Illyria's abilities of controlling time, Willow’s magic and The Key Dawn, they (except Xander, who stays behind this time; Dawn has pumped and left milk in the fridge) leave the present towards their destination in the future: New York. And as soon as the portal opens, in a very strange coincidence, a very angry Fray and her sister Erin are waiting for them heavily armed.

Now, the bitching:

Adult Giles bothered me a great deal, and I was wondering why, since I shouldn't mind having Adult Giles back. The fact he was re-aged off-screen? Yes, that's really bad, but... Kid Giles: what a shitty way to kill off a character! I, for one, got attached to him, I liked his predicaments, I saw some great stuff happening to him... and now he is no more. “It was a spell”, and here there was Adult Giles back in the living room chatting with I-don't-even-remember-who. Just like that. In S10, issue #19 (Freaky Giles Day), Adult Giles was back. There was a spell, one that was temporary, and it happened to Kid Giles. Who got very uncomfortable and felt he wasn't fitting in anymore in this world as an adult. This new old Giles didn't do much in this first issue, and I don't believe there will be space to know how he felt when Willow found a spell to re-age him (Kid Giles' feelings, after the whole thing he went through with Roux), how he felt after it was done, how he adapted to his new old self, how he feels now. RIP Kid Giles.

Fred. I know, 4 issues, not much space etc – but... where's she? She's too big a part of Illyria and she has history with Spike. It's odd she didn't make an appearance (just a mention: Illyria would be cool about a brief exchange of Angel for hair products with Buffy because “Fred creature's mane continues to vex me”; Buffy seems not interested). That's the problem with having too many characters (and one of them are really two) in a short story, some things have to be left alone; too complicated to explain to the audience about the sharing of the body as well as the feelings... Last time Buffy readers saw Illyria, she was just Illyria, and many who read Buffy, don’t read Angel, so... Angellyria is cool, though; Angel dating a Goddess seems to fit his character.

And... Buffy and Spike. WTF?

The art is just awful. I miss Rebekah Isaacs SO MUCH. This panel, though, is awesome:

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