sparkleywonderful
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Melissa
@taratjah is the wonderful artist of the banner
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This is not OK!
To the anon, stop trolling. If you are not trolling and do not like to see content from any user, block them.
@tacmc has provided us endless support and provided tons of content. @tacmc is still writing content and sharing it for free! Regardless of the reason any writer or artist provides content our only response should be:
you write the characters so out of character they’re not even true to canon anymore at this point you’re making up your own characters and slapping Sarah’s characters’ names on them. Btw You technically CAN’T write the characters however the hell you want because they’re not yours to destroy and completely rebuild? They’re still Sarah’s characters and if I was her and stumbled across that fic I would sue lmfao
Then sue me
Actually why don’t you just fucking kill me while you’re at it
Because I’m so fucking tired
I’m so tired and I just don’t want to do it anymore
I’m so fucking tired
My life is not going great right now alright it’s really not and I write as an escape for the hell that is my reality and it’s just not worth it anymore alright none of it is worth it anymore
So tell Sara, literally my idol, to sue me. Or give me a death wish. Today’s not the day. I can’t deal with anymore today.
Do your worse to me. I probably deserve it anyway. I can’t seem to make anyone happy, both on this website and in real life.
#anons like this can suck it and not in an enjoyable way#no just no#really we write for free for various reasons and it takes a hell of a lot to post#there is no anon post to hide behind to share content#fandoms die without content#stop killing the fandom#acomaf
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i don’t care about the morality of characters. i don’t give a shit if rhys’ actions are questionable, if feyre’s are, if tamlin’s, if nesta’s... I DON’T CARE
this shit is a FANTASY for a reason. i’m not about to put my own moral code on characters who don’t even exist, in a land that certainly doesn’t exist because that takes all the fun out of suspending my disbelief
i want to simply read books about hot, fae bitches doing hot shit and damn the consequences
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But...and hear me out here. We have Nesta and Cassian bond mostly through Feyre's POV. A POV in which she is just now learning the magic of the world she has been remade into.
Feyre only knows of the mate bond, and with everything going on she has not learned of other bonds.
What if Nesta and Cassian are Carranam? A death goddess and the prince of bloodshed.
I like the idea of Cassian and Nesta being mates don’t get me wrong.
BUT I also like the idea of Cassian and Nesta not being mates, because I feel that Nesta and Cassian both have a complex that would make it better if both of them chose each other without a mate bond hovering over them. Nesta with her lack of choice that she’s had throughout her life, her lack of control. And Cassian who’s kind of been the discarded boy in a war camp who had no official family, who many times has that bastard title hanging over him. Also, Nesta is suppose to be different than everyone. It’s mentioned so many times in the book. So I feel like why would a mate bond apply to her exactly—when it applies to every other fae, no matter how “rare”?
I have this headcanon that maybe Nesta and Cassian were suppose to have a mate bond, or perhaps have something deeper. But because of what she took from the cauldron that messes everything up fate wise.
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@vidalinav Missed you too! I'm looking for spoilers and hype.
ANYTHING to fill the next few weeks as we wait.
My hopes for A Court of Silver Flames are very simple:
1. That it is a release that I dive head first in and that coming out of it to eat, drink, and sleep will be a true struggle.
2. That there will be lines where I go 'I see what you did there' with a respectful nod to SJM for that little nugget.
3. That there will be moments where I go 'Wait...Wait a moment' and pull my dusty copies of ACOTAR, ACOMAF, ACOWAR, and ACOFAS, and I am just amazed at the fore shadowing.
4. Lastly, this fandom heals a bit and we bring back the enjoyment in the pre-ACOWAR days in preparation for the next release!
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@feysandfeels your tags are awesome! Yes 5 is much needed. I am very excited for another POV, we got a hint of it, but now I want 700 pages of it.
My hopes for A Court of Silver Flames are very simple:
1. That it is a release that I dive head first in and that coming out of it to eat, drink, and sleep will be a true struggle.
2. That there will be lines where I go 'I see what you did there' with a respectful nod to SJM for that little nugget.
3. That there will be moments where I go 'Wait...Wait a moment' and pull my dusty copies of ACOTAR, ACOMAF, ACOWAR, and ACOFAS, and I am just amazed at the fore shadowing.
4. Lastly, this fandom heals a bit and we bring back the enjoyment in the pre-ACOWAR days in preparation for the next release!
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@arielle-reads yes those were the good ol' days. How I have missed them.
My hopes for A Court of Silver Flames are very simple:
1. That it is a release that I dive head first in and that coming out of it to eat, drink, and sleep will be a true struggle.
2. That there will be lines where I go ‘I see what you did there’ with a respectful nod to SJM for that little nugget.
3. That there will be moments where I go 'Wait…Wait a moment’ and pull my dusty copies of ACOTAR, ACOMAF, ACOWAR, and ACOFAS, and I am just amazed at the fore shadowing.
4. Lastly, this fandom heals a bit and we bring back the enjoyment in the pre-ACOWAR days in preparation for the next release!
49 notes
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My hopes for A Court of Silver Flames are very simple:
1. That it is a release that I dive head first in and that coming out of it to eat, drink, and sleep will be a true struggle.
2. That there will be lines where I go 'I see what you did there' with a respectful nod to SJM for that little nugget.
3. That there will be moments where I go 'Wait...Wait a moment' and pull my dusty copies of ACOTAR, ACOMAF, ACOWAR, and ACOFAS, and I am just amazed at the fore shadowing.
4. Lastly, this fandom heals a bit and we bring back the enjoyment in the pre-ACOWAR days in preparation for the next release!
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A/N: Sup folks! I apologise for my complete lack of schedule for posting but, as I promised @perseusannabeth , here we have Part Three! Delivered on Saturday, the last day of my self imposed deadline lol
Our dear boy Cass is back, so grab some popcorn and enjoy the show!
In which she makes a friend, Part Three
Two months and two weeks.
Cassian had been away from Windhaven for seventy-five days.
Seventy fives days spent going to each of the fifty war camps, overseeing the trainings – specially the female’s — and trying to cease the fire that seemed to be leading to the first Illyrian civil war since the Night Court’s High Lord had taken control of the land.
He was tired. Both physically and mentally. His wings seemed to weight ten times more, and he couldn’t help but think of the female he had left alone in his secluded cabin.
He had not wanted to leave.
He had not had a choice.
He should have written to her.
Should have tried to ask her to go with him.
He remembered Feyre saying in passing how Nesta once wished to go and sail the world. But that was a long time ago. When she had been human. When she had not suffered the horrors of the war.
Cassian was not concerned about her safety. He had wards on his house, wards that made it impossible to anyone deemed dangerous or suspicious to get inside. Specially other males apart from him and his brothers. Although Cassian didn’t think that Nesta would try and take anyone to his house. He had made sure to scare the fuck out of every male in camp once Nesta and him had arrived at Windhaven. They knew to not get close to her.
Nesta going to their houses seemed as much unlikely. She had not left her room since they’d arrived. He doubted she’d do so after he had gone away.
No, Cassian was concerned about her health.
In the first month, Cassian had taken upon himself the task of helping Nesta go through her detoxification. Not that she had wanted his help at all.
It had not been pretty. It was not an easy process. Cassian knew it. That was why he had been so concerned when she’d locked herself in her room and went through the pain all alone.
He had stayed awake, listening to her empty her guts day and night, unable to comfort her. To hold her hair back from her face. He’d leave water and food outside her door, the best he’d offer given the situation.
She usually took all the water. She left most of the food.
In the last week of her detoxification, the worst phase, he stood in front of his closed door all through the week, awake. Just waiting for a sound that would have him throwing the door open and running to her room, her anger at him be dammed.
She didn’t call for him. Or for anyone. She stayed unusually quiet.
Cassian died a thousand deaths during that time. He had been so afraid he had dared to open his door and almost knocked on hers. But he heard her breathing.
She was sleeping so quietly that only Fae ears would have been able to hear her.
That night, he stayed outside her door. And when he heard her wake up on the next day, he quickly went to the kitchen.
Acted as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t prayed all night for her well being, his stomach filled with dread.
He left food for her and went to oversee the morning training.
The males were smart not to provoke him that day.
And so their relationship stayed that way, Cassian trying to give her space. Waiting for her to talk to him. Or scream at him. Even hit him.
She did no such thing. Stayed practically all day in her room. In good days, Cassian would see her sitting in the stone bench outside his house when he came back. Those days were rarer then he liked.
And then he left. For two months.
She did not leave his mind not even for a second of those seventy-five days.
Landing outside his house, Cassian took a deep breath, bracing himself for what awaited him.
He entered the house, silence being his only greeting. He was not surprised. He had left Ironcrest as the sun was raising, eager to return home, and Nesta was not one to wake up early.
Cassian had stayed at Ironcrest for longer than the other camps, given how that prick Kallon was raising distress among the Illyrians.
He hoped Kallon met his demise at the Blood Rite that year.
But something was amiss in his house. Cassian spotted a duffel bag beside the sofa, which had a pillow and a blanket neatly folded on it. And there was a new scent, one which was not Nesta’s. His heart started to beat faster, his mind running the possibilities. Had the wards became weaker somehow? Had someone gotten inside his home? Or was this some arrangement Nesta had made? Was she planning to leave?
Dumping his things in the hall, Cassian practically ran towards her room, and after knocking and receiving no answer whatsoever — not even a low curse — he opened the door to find the room empty. The bed was made, and Nesta’s scent was still there, which calmed him a little bit. But where the Mother was she?
Closing the door, he strained his ears to listen to something, anything that would tell him that she still was in the house. And then he heard it, a voice coming from outside, very faintly.
He went to the kitchen and opened a side door that connected to an outdoor patio behind his house, which he used for training when he wanted to let off some steam instead of sparring with the other Illyrians.
The scene which Cassian was now seeing made him believe he had fallen sleep and was dreaming, for Nesta and an Illyrian kid were outside, doing what appeared to be some sort of training.
There were four tree stumps positioned to form a big square, in which Nesta was standing inside while the young Illyrian stayed airborne.
“FOUR!” the kid shouted, and flew towards what Cassian guessed was the stump marked as number four, Nesta running towards the same stump. She had just come close to it when another number was shouted, both the kid and Nesta moving towards the new spot.
And Cassian realised, after the initial shock of seeing Nesta outside, of seeing her filled with energy, that the young Illyrian was training Nesta. The exercise in question was one of the first the small Illyrians learned once they started training, to both create a sense of direction and balance while flying and having to suddenly change positions, and to start building their stamina.
He could not believe that somehow Nesta had started training, that she was wearing the Illyrian leathers he left for her among her other clothes. He had done it out of hope that she’d warm up to the ideia of training, to help her manage her powers, to help her learn how to defend herself, so she never found herself in a situation similar to the one with Hybern or his twin spies, all that time ago in Velaris’ library.
The leathers were a little big on her, and she still looked like she should eat at least five full banquets, but something had changed in the time he had been away.
Cassian was afraid to move. Was afraid to even breath. He remained frozen, and kept staring and staring at the female in front of him. A female that two months ago was a shell of her previous self, but that now had a little spark of life back in her eyes. A reminder of the untameable fire she once held.
“Anak”
The word — Commander in Illyrian — caught Cassian’s attention, and he came back to reality to find Nesta looking at him, unmoving, whereas the kid was back on the ground, one fist across its chest, wings tucked and head bowed down.
A soldier, greeting the Commander. A soldier, waiting for orders.
“Küroch” Cassian said, and the young boy raised his head, taking a relaxed attitude, with his feet apart and hands behind his back.
“Kaelin, you should go” Nesta’s voice broke the awkward silence that had fallen among them, and Cassian eyed their interaction with interest.
“But—”
“No buts. You have training in an hour right? You may go”
Kaelin’s eyes darted to Cassian, and the boy hesitated a fraction before muttering a quick goodbye and launching to the skies.
Leaving Cassian and Nesta alone.
~•~
“So you’re back”
“Did you miss me sweetheart?” Cassian teased, hoping to ease some of the tension in the air.
Nesta had gone back inside as soon as Kaelin had left, not bothering to give Cassian a single glance. He had obviously followed her inside, and now eyed her from the kitchen door as she gulped down a glass of water.
“Did you feel so alone that you got yourself a roommate?” he said, pushing her, wanting to get some reaction.
But it seemed the wrong thing to say, for Nesta stiffened and became a pillar of ice and steel he had not seen since the war.
“If Kaelin goes, so do I” she said, fire burning in her eyes “Do not blame me for taking him in and not consulting you when I thought you’d left for good. Two months. For two months you didn’t—”
She stopped herself, and Cassian was reminded of another conversation like this.
“You didn’t come to—”
“The next time, Emissary, I’ll come say hello”
Another broken promise. Another failure to add to his ever growing pile of mistakes.
“No one is going anywhere” he quietly added, trying to bury those memories again “But I’d like to know the reason why he’s here”
“He’s an orphan. He’s a thirteen year old kid who has nothing and no one to take care of him. And who’s left to live in some piss poor tent in the mud while the weather is as cold as Death’s kiss.”
“I lived like that too” Cassian said, reminding those cold and harsh days before Rhysand’s mother took him in, before he knew what it felt like to sleep on a bed, to have a warm meal and hot bath.
“Does it make it right then?” Nesta snapped, and the way she seemed to care for Kaelin made him think that maybe he’d judged her wrong.
She had pleaded for both humans and children’s lives back at the High Lord’s reunion. Had passionately demanded for them to stop being selfish and save them.
How could he have ever thought that she’d let Feyre go hunting as a fourteen year old and say nothing? Do nothing but just twiddle her thumbs while her youngest sister risked her life? With each passing day, Cassian found himself being more and more drawn to the interesting persona that was Nesta Archeron.
“No. No it doesn’t” his voice softened, and he decided to try and be a little less of an asshole “He stays. For as long he wants”
Cassian thought he saw Nesta almost sigh in relief and got even more curious about their relationship.
“How—” he cleared his throat, hoping to find a neutral topic “You are training”
“I figured that if I was to stay here for Mother knows how long I’d better find something to kill time with” she snorted “It’s not like there’s a library here”
“I can— I can ask for books to be delivered here” he gave her what he hoped was a teasing smirk instead of a grimace “I’m sorry my small private collection was not enough stimulation”
Cassian was tripping over his words, he knew that. He thought he must sound pathetic, but he had gotten Nesta to talk, and if his two months away had taught him something it was that he was done keeping his distance.
Nesta only shrugged, in thanks or dismissal he didn’t know, and walked past him to leave the kitchen. Probably to take a bath and get rid of those leathers.
“Stay” he grabbed her fingers, softly, just to hold her back.
She turned her face to look at him, their proximity and the meaning of his words making Cassian drop her hand and place some space between them.
“Have breakfast with me” he quickly added “You should always eat after exercise to regain the lost energy, and breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
He waited for a heartbeat. Two.
“I mean, I don’t know about you but I’m starving. I left Ironcrest too early and didn’t eat and—“
Gods, he sounded like a green boy talking with a girl for their first time.
“I’ll keep you company” Nesta cut his blabbering short, and sat in the kitchen chair, the ever picture of the mighty queen she was.
Cassian almost jumped with joy. Almost. Because she said she’d keep him company, not that she’d eat with him. And she needed to, desperately so.
Washing his hands and typing his hair back, he went through his cabinets and gathered lots of different ingredients. Nesta stayed silent while he cooked, and when he placed the food on the table — also giving her a plate — she only raised an eyebrow in question.
“This is Imu Yanisa Kiyauriri” he said, gesturing to the dish in front of her “It’s a traditional Illyrian dish. Kind like the human for porridge, but better.”
He didn’t wait for Nesta to start eating, but secretly eyed her as he ate.
“It tastes better hot” he tentatively said, silently willing her to grab the spoon and eat.
He cheered internally when she did, and swore he heard a silent moan of pleasure when she swallowed it. Imu Yanisa Kiyauriri was a dish know for its high energy potencial, and consisted of milk, water, sugar and mbe'yu, a type of wheat that the Illyrians grew. It was a simple dish to make, and was the first Cassian had ever learned to cook. He had faint memories of his mother feeding him Imu Yanisa Kiyauriri, and had almost begged Rhysand’s mother to teach him how to make it, if only to get closer to his mother one way or another.
Cassian had also cooked eggs, bacon, made some toast and brewed coffee. He left it all on the table, and didn’t force Nesta to take it. He would have to take small steps to help her. He could only offer her the possibilities and pray she would take them.
But as he sipped his coffee — the hot drink warming his tired body — he thought that maybe the new occupant of the house would turn out to be a very precious ally.
•
Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030-blog @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan
{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list. Tags in bold are the ones not working}
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A/N: This is an idea that has been living inside my mind for a really long time and I finally gathered courage to write it. But I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so every time I read and edited it I always found more and more faults in what I had written, so I said “To hell with this, I’m gonna post it before I delete the whole thing”
This ended up being way longer than what I had imagined and I have no idea how I feel about it. So buckle up folks, because this is going to be a ride.
In which she makes a friend
After almost three months living in Illyria, Nesta could not recall a single conversation that had lasted for more than three minutes or that had been longer than two sentences. Not that she cared much in holding meaningless conversations about the weather and whatnot with the few Illyrians bold enough to talk to her. Because few were those that tried to talk to her, those that were not scared of her, whose voices did not whisper Other or Witch whenever she bothered to leave the house she now lived in.
So when Nesta sat on the lonely stone bench in front the house – the weather had given a break and gone from “insufferable bone cold” to “tolerable chilly” – to try and calm the raging fire in her veins, a sign that her power was trying to break free, a sign that she was close to breaking and destroying everything around her, she was very much surprised to find an Illyrian child walking towards her.
It was not unusual to have a few Illyrians knocking on the door sometimes, given that she now lived with him due to her sister’s order long ago in Velaris. But since her babysitter had gone to Cauldron knows where, to do Cauldron knows what a week ago, no one had come knocking on the door asking for that overgrown bat. Adding the fact that his house was a little secluded from the rest, Nesta could not imagine why that child was coming over.
“Good...good evening” the Illyrian greeted, stopping in front of her.
“He’s not here” Nesta said, eyeing the child in front of her. The boy – Nesta supposed it was a boy, not older than thirteen, with its short cut curly brown hair, bandaged hands, muddied clothes and scar free wings being the only clue she had – shifted nervously on his feet.
“I...I’m not looking for the General” the boy said “I heard there was a Witch living here. I take you are her”
For the second time of that day Nesta found herself surprised. The boy in front of her had called her a Witch in her face, something most did not.
“I wanted to ask for a spell” the boy’s voice had lost a bit of it’s previous nervousness, and he had squared his shoulders, wings slightly flaring “I don’t have much, but I’m ready to give anything in return”
‘You can’t possible have anything to give me’ Nesta thought, glancing at his ripped and dirty clothes.
“I’m no Witch” Nesta said, getting up and turning her back at the kid, making for the house’s door “Go back to your parents”
~•~
The next day, when Nesta was coming back from a walk in the woods – there was something about the ancient trees and the wilderness that helped her control her inner turmoil — she was baffled to see yesterday’s boy waiting for her.
“I’m sorry for yesterday” the boy blurted out before she could send him away “I didn’t want to offend you. I’m Kaelin”
Nesta’s only answer was a blink.
“I...I only said you were a Witch because that’s what the others said you were” Kaelin’s ears turned pink, no doubt embarrassed to admit listening to gossip.
“I don’t blame you” she said, and Kaelin’s eyes lit in surprise.
No. Nesta did not blame the boy for thinking her a Witch. Because long ago, before the war, before the empt void inside her was as big as the ocean, before she heard her father’s neck crack, she had declared to that annoying camp lord Devlon that she indeed was a Witch. But now, even though her powers were as loud as a beast’s roar in her ears, she did not want to touch them. Could not touch them.
And nothing, not even the hopeful look in Kaelin’s light brown eyes, would make her touch the wild beast that lived within her. She would not give the boy false hope. She would not fail another child. Not again. Not ever.
“If you have problems maybe you’d better tell your parents about it, instead of reaching for witchcraft”
After all, even thirteen year old Illyrians must have foolish mistakes that they would rather not tell their parents about.
“I don’t have parents. At least not anymore” Kaelin’s hard and sorrowful voice was enough to make Nesta resist prying further into his problem.
“I see” was the only thing she said, and she once again turned her back at him, entering that lonely and sad cabin, even though she was feeling rather inclined to talk, a feeling she had not felt for the longest time.
~•~
Kaelin appeared on Nesta’s door three days later, with a black eye, bruised cheek and a split lip that didn’t stop him from smiling and giving her something wrapped in brown paper.
“I thought about it and I realised that my apology was lacking” he started talking non stop, not giving Nesta a chance to say anything except gape at him and the gift on her hands “Father always said to treat everyone nicely, unless they were rude to you. He said it was what mother believed in”
Nesta could only nod and unwrap the paper to discover a pair of gloves.
“Did you steal them?” She asked, connecting the dots between the gloves she held — surely way out of the kid’s status of affordable — and his beaten face.
“No!” Kaelin replied, a bitterness in his voice “I know I’m just a lowly orphan but I’d never take something from another one in such an unhonoured way”
Nesta just grossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.
“One of the boys from the high families arrived at training with new boots” he gave a sly smile “I fought him for them”
“You did what?” Nesta’s voice rose and she was holding herself back from shaking the boy until he was back into his right mind.
“Fighting between Illyrians is not prohibited. But it’s best if you don’t get caught” Kaelin replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Nesta felt her temper rising.
“You. Come with me” she grabbed Kaelin’s arm and took him inside before he could protest.
She made him sit on sofa in the living room while she went searching for the medic supplies she was sure Cassian had. Once she found it, she went back to Kaelin and started treating his cuts, mumbling the entire time about how stupid and reckless boys were.
“This is nice” he said, wincing slight when Nesta touched his bruised cheek.
“What is nice?”
“Having someone take care of you” he answered “I... I didn’t know my mom. She died shortly after I was born. Father said she was quite fragile”
Nesta trying to not let show how his words affected her. She remembered another woman, dying in a lonely bed just a few years after her youngest child had been born.
“He died in the last war. Against Hybern” he practically spat the late king’s name, hate filling every syllable.
Nesta finished treating him and started organising the materials, to keep herself busy and have an excuse to buy time to know what to answer him. She had never been good at consoling others. And she didn’t know why, but she was afraid her bluntness would end up hurting Kaelin.
“He was a hero” he said firmly, his eyes shining with defiance “He may have been just a mere foot soldier but he was at the front line, keeping Hybern’s forces back”
“I’m sure he was” Nesta replied, trying not to think about who may have said otherwise to him, hurting a child who had nothing “But would he like to see his son picking meaningless fights?”
“It was to get you a gift” Kaelin looked down and poked at the sofa “I’m sure he’d have understood. Besides, I have to fight and stand out if I want to have a shot at the Rite”
“You mean the Blood Rite? I thought everyone participated” Nesta had gathered little information about the Illyrians for the time she had been living in Illyria. There were no libraries, no bookstores, and the books Cassian had about the Illyrian culture and history were scarce and outdated.
“The very one. You are not obligated to become a warrior, but that’s the path most of male Illyrians take. Not that we have many options to begin with” Kaelin’s voice had became serious “Most of the males from the richer families are bound to participate, but the rest.... we end up being mere foot soldiers. Expendable. So no point in making us take part in it.”
At his words, Nesta could not help but think about Cassian. He too was an orphan but had risen to be Rhysand’s Commander and had seven siphons. From what she had heard and seen at the war, that was rather unusual.
“It’s worse for females” Kaelin added quietly.
She knew that. Saw how females were treated on the rare times she got out of the cabin. A scarce number trained. And she did not know a lot about training, but was sure it was not near enough to make them part of the Illyrian army. Or even defend themselves were the worst to happen.
Nesta opened her mouth to say Cauldron knows what — she had to say something, she could not let the boy leave with such dark thoughts — when a loud noise interrupted her.
It was a sound Nesta knew quite well from her time as a human living in a shabby cottage.
A sound she had become reacquainted with after being Made. After that day at the battle field.
The sound of hungriness. The sound of someone who was starving, and had been so for quite a while.
And it was coming from Kaelin.
The Illyrian boy beside her blushed a deep scarlet, trying — and failing — to come up with an excuse. But Nesta knew better. She knew the signs of starvation. Saw them in herself. Had seen it in her younger sisters, when they were not older than Kaelin.
Thin wrists. Sunken eyes. Cheekbones way too sharp. Up close Nesta could properly examine Kaelin and notice that the boy was all bones and little muscle, his skinny built not a consequence of slow metabolism to gain weight, but rather the fact that he did not have enough sustenance to make it possible.
“I have way too much food stocked here. I was supposed to be living with an adult warrior that can eat for five people “ Nesta began, cutting Kaelin’s blabbering “It would be a crime to let it all get wasted”
Leaving him no window to reply, she took hold of his arm, hauling him towards the kitchen and making him to sit down while she gathered whatever food she came across. And she had enough fire in her eyes — she may or may not have lost a little bit of control of her powers due to her racing emotions — that Kaelin did not dare say a word, but just sit quietly and eat what was put in front of him.
~•~
Nesta’s routine had suffered a slight change after that evening. For the past month and a half, Kaelin had been having a meal with her after his training. Every day.
She had made sure to make it clear that she was expecting a visit from him after his activities were over.
He did not dare argue with her.
Today, however, was an unusual day.
Kaelin was late.
Almost two hours late.
Nesta had come to know Illyrian boy better, and one thing she learned about him was that he detested to be late. For him, his promises and commitment were everything, reminding her of another Illyrian she knew – which had not come back in two months. Not that she missed or was worried about him.
She tried and failed to convince herself that Kaelin may have been held back by training. But she did not know why she felt a strange feeling. Her powers were restless, more so than usual.
The air and the trees around her seemed different.
She felt it deeply in her bones.
As if the Cauldron itself — hidden far far away in a island that did not exist in any map ever written — dreaded whatever future thread the Mother was knitting.
As if something had been woken.
As if the winds of change had gone from a light breeze to a tornado, ready to wreak havoc in Illyria.
Nesta could not hold herself back any longer. She needed to know what was happening. To know if that strange song that spoke of a power strong and ancient was connected to Kaelin tardiness.
So into the woods she went.
She walked and walked, until the song in her ears got louder and a new sound appeared, a sound she would not be able to hear were it not for her fae ears.
The sound of someone whimpering.
Quickening her steps, Nesta followed the cries of pain until the wall of trees around her gave way to a small clearing.
And there, lying curled up in a ball, was Kaelin.
“KAELIN!”
Nesta ran towards him, falling on her knees beside his body.
“What happened? Did somebody hurt you?” she smelled blood, and feared the Illyrian whose boots he had “won” had gone after him for payback.
Her mind was racing, her thoughts overlapping themselves. She recalled another winged body, laying on the ground. She recalled another child, crying in pain due to its empty stomach, who had seen food for weeks.
She would not fail anyone ever again. That had been her promise to herself.
“Kaelin...” Nesta slowly touched his arm, trying to soothe him “Talk to me. Tell me where it hurts”
Kaelin whimpered, slowly uncurling his body and tucking his wings. He clutched his abdomen, and Nesta dared to try and touch her power.
She would touch that dangerous beast if that meant she could help the young boy in front of her.
And so she tentatively reached inside herself for that source, trying to recall if any training she’d had with Amren may assist her in the current situation.
She scanned Kaelin’s body, and that’s when she noticed the small drops of blood beneath him. But her powers had not detected any wounds. No, he was not hurt.
However, she finally found the origin of the bleeding. And Nesta momentarily lost her breath.
Because she knew the reason why Kaelin was in pain.
“You are not a boy” she breathed.
Kaelin was a girl.
A girl who had had her first period.
A girl who was passing as a boy. Training like one.
And when Kaelin finally meet Nesta’s eyes, brown eyes shining with tears, she cursed the Mother for whatever future thread she had knitted.
•
Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth
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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight /Chapter One/
I knew it was bound to happen eventually. Surrounded by the new walls in this estate, after growing so familiar with Rhys’s old room—my old room, at the House of Wind; a part of me knew the new surroundings might trigger the nightmares to return. Even if over a decade had passed, a part of me was, and would probably always be haunted by the events that had taken place Under the Mountain. At first, I dreamt of stabbing myself in the heart, as I had the young male and female fae. Over the years the nightmares evolved, sometimes as gory and painful as it had been to actually live through it, and other times an array of images would pass through my mind in a panic—as if I were living through it all at once in a matter of seconds. Images of blood, Amarantha, the knife in my blood-soaked hands—of Rhys. Of Rhys’s pained face as he desperately tried to get to me during Amarantha’s attack, wielding a knife of his own. Tonight, in particular, those flashing images conjured up old and ancient feelings of panic in me that I had not experienced since I was newly Made; since my time in the Spring Court. Since before I learned Rhys was my mate; before I overcame that overwhelming despair that had threatened to drown me. The nightmares hadn’t stirred those emotions in over a decade, but tonight was different.
Keep reading
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The character growth in that moment.
Think about how she often she just executed a heart stopping plan. No discussion, no input, no help, willing to sacrifice herself for that better world.
When Aelin says “I would like to put it to a vote” to decide about using the keys in KoA, my heart stopped. The ANXIETY IN THAT MOMENT...😵
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For Aedion and the Bane, imagine dragons, warriors.
After reading The Heir of Fire years ago, I kinda associated songs with the main ships in the books. It was weird how or why I came up with it. I just did one day and I look fondly back on that time whenever I hear them.
With Aelin x Dorian, idk but somehow Love Me Like You Do by Ellie Goulding comes to my mind? I think this was my background song for when the time they were dancing at a ball.
With Celaena x Chaol, Tenerife Sea by Ed Sheeran just hits home for them.
And with Aelin x Rowan, I always thought No Matter Where You Are by Us The Duo fits them so much.
And I laugh whenever Love Me Like You Do plays and all I think about how appropriate the song is with Dorian. Turns out he's one kinky mf. 😂
Share me yours!
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Primaries matter, learn about your state, when the primary is held, what is required to vote in the primary. Only 2 primary elections have occurred. The electoral primaries will decide who the candidates are for each party.
Don't stop at president. Local and State matters as well. Have an issue with public transportation, that starts at the local level.
#vote#just vote#it takes such little time#voter registration#learn your voting rights#but not from Facebook
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With Darkdawn coming out in a few days i gotta throw some love out for Ashlinn Järnheim that i did a lil while back
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What kind of wanker writes a novel with footnotes. :)
Oh Mr Kindly, how I have missed you.
Let the smut and butchery begin in earnest.
@propshophannah
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