#There is so much that Nesta blames herself for that are not her fault | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

belabellissima · 10 months

Text

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don't touch)

Summary: But in the end, it didn’t matter what Elain did to protect the puzzle - three pieces had been missing right from the start. They would never fall into place. Elain felt like that puzzle every time she saw Lucien, every time Feyre brought up his name, tried to push Elain into accepting him. She could see the image, see the outcome in her mind - the perfect life, the love, the children, the years together - but she wasn’t whole. She was lacking those pieces - the one thing that would make her the full image of a perfect, doting wife.

Or: The author saying ace!Elain rights.

Read on AO3 | For @elucienweekofficial

Word count: 7.7k

For all that Feyre did her best to push Elain toward Lucien, Elain knew deep down it would never truly work between them.

And that meant that for all Feyre considered them close, thought she could fix things and be one big happy family, she didn’t truly know Elain at all.

She was too swept away still in the joys of motherhood, of Nesta and Cassian finding their synchronicity too. She loved her family, and for the first time in her life, felt the kind of true contentment that had been denied to them all in that cabin. She cared, loved them so much, and wanted them all to feel just as blissful as her.

Elain couldn’t blame her, couldn’t fault her sister for it. She loved her too, and there was a part of her that wanted the happily ever after that Feyre expected would fall into place. But as far as Elain could see, it just wasn’t possible.

Back when Elain was only six years old, before their father had lost everything, one of his ships had come back with a new device from the continent. A cartographer had painstakingly painted in great detail a map of the known world onto a thin piece of veneer wood, polishing and varnishing it afterwards so it wouldn’t flake off or fade. And then he’d hired a carpenter to cut it into delicate interlocking pieces. The large map - wider than Elain was tall at the time - could be pulled apart into two thousand tiny pieces, packed into a box, taken anywhere, and be reassembled for convenience's sake.

Her father had told her it was called a marquetry puzzle, and had spent the rest of the day putting it together with her.

When the sun was low in the sky, they’d pulled the final remaining piece from the box, but the puzzle itself was left incomplete. Three pieces had been lost in the journey. Her father had been furious at the loss and immediately written a letter to the seller requesting a replacement or his money returned, and had never looked at the first puzzle again. Elain, on the other hand, had spirited away the map to her room so that she might hide it under her bed. Might bring it out and reassemble it whenever she grew bored, trace her finger along the edges and plot out the path she would take one day, when she would get to explore the world.

Nesta was always with Maman and Grandmere, after all, and four year old Feyre was too young to play with her, her fingers not able to work such tiny pieces yet. Even Elain still had trouble with them.

But in the end, it didn’t matter what Elain did to protect the puzzle - three pieces had been missing right from the start. They would never fall into place.

Elain felt like that puzzle every time she saw Lucien, every time Feyre brought up his name, tried to push Elain into accepting him. She could see the image, see the outcome in her mind - the perfect life, the love, the children, the years together - but she wasn’t whole. She was lacking those pieces - the one thing that would make her the full image of a perfect, doting wife.

Broken.

So she stayed away, and when Feyre brought it up, she withdrew into herself.

She planted her garden, adding new life to every empty place she could see. She baked, ensuring no one went without, and she did her best to pretend she was okay, that she didn’t ache in some soul-deep part of her for those lost pieces to be found.

She’d thought at first that she’d found it with Grayson. He’d charmed her, been so polite and witty when they’d danced, and the warmth of his hand on her waist had sent her heart fluttering for the first time in her life. He’d never made excessive mention of her beauty the way the other men with their covetous eyes did. He’d brought her live flowers when calling on her instead of a cut bouquet, listened to her speak about her interests, and seemed to find in her an equal. And Elain had thought, yes. This. This is what love is.

But then they’d been engaged, and he’d started letting those touches linger. His hand went lower on her back, his eyes dipped to her mouth every time she talked. He’d press lingering kisses to her hand when she departed, and the look in his eyes sometimes sent her fleeing home in discomfort.

They were to be married, she’d told herself. She’d known it was coming, known eventually she’d have to go to his bed, bear his children. And she wanted that, wanted a family. But the idea of being touched didn’t appeal to her the way her governess had once said it might. She’d been warned her whole life not to give in to the sinful urges; she didn’t quite know what to do with the fact that she had never felt them for anyone.

But, given that it was to be an eventuality, she’d let Grayson charm her into his bed anyway. It hadn’t been bad, exactly. Her body had reacted to his touch, if not her mind. He’d taken care not to hurt her, to make sure she found her pleasure in the act. He was pleasing to look at too, in a sort-of objective, abstract way, the way one might admire art. But most of it had just been… tedious. Sweaty, and too loud, and repetitive, and… boring. She’d have much rather just spent the night reading by his side instead.

She didn’t burn for him the way he did for her, even though she loved him.

She’d loved him enough to give him that, to be willing to do so again in the future, but he’d not felt the same way, not after she’d been turned fae. He’d been too repulsed by her body to keep loving her, as if her feeling similarly for him hadn’t meant anything at all.

And all of it was happening at the same time as becoming someone's mate, someone she didn’t know and didn’t trust, who had no connection to her outside of that one moment he’d given her his coat, when any gentleman would have done the same. It wasn’t enough in the slightest.

And then years of awkward interactions, years of Elain witnessing the way her sisters sometimes went mindless with lust over their mates. Some cauldron-given connection intended to promote attraction, to give stronger offspring. Her brothers-in-law went nearly animal with it sometimes, nothing else mattering to them but the connection of their flesh with her sisters, with fucking them.

The word felt as horrid as it sounded. Nothing of making love, of finding a soul so similar to yours that life was infinitely better at their side.

But her sisters felt it too, reciprocated it. Craved it, in a way Elain had never seen from them before.

In a way Elain had never felt before.

She thought, at first, that it was lingering from her time as a human. They were more reserved in general than the fae, bound to social conventions and lineages.

And while Elain never craved the physicality, she did crave the connection.

She’d heard too much about the bond by that point to ever seriously consider Lucien. The idea of a frenzy, of him never being able to get enough of her, sent her pulse thundering with nausea and turned her skin clammy. And the way he’d watch her when he thought she wasn’t looking, with that same longing and desire for her that Grayson had at the beginning…

It drowned out the other thoughts. The ones that tempted her when the loneliness grew to be too much. He was beautiful in the way of nature - fire-bright and perfect, so long as it was never disturbed, never bruised by the touch of a covetous outsider. He had gotten along amicably with Feyre too, helped keep her alive even at the cost of his home, so she knew he was honorable and kind. Loyal to her, from what Feyre had said, even when they had never spoken before. Even now, when she continued to put distance between them, not realizing it was for both of their sakes.

He was patient and kind, resilient and witty; all things she had once loved about Grayson. He would be a fine match. One she could see herself falling for if she let herself slip for even a moment. But even then, Elain knew it would be soured by the frenzy, slowly rotting over the years as she forced herself through it.

So she fled to others. To the bars in Velaris, taking home people she ended up kicking out before they could do anything, unable to bring herself to feel anything for them. To Nuala at one point, though beyond one awkward kiss nothing had happened. To Azriel, who was quiet like her. Who listened, and never made her feel uncomfortable, never made her feel like he was expecting something of her she’d be unable to give. Who was so secretive about his lovers that Elain was convinced they didn’t exist and he was merely letting his family think they did to protect himself. She’d thought him the same as her for a long time, and it had been enough for her to risk opening her heart to him. To seek out his company. She had especially sympathized with him for being stuck with Nesta and Cassian. So for Solstice one year, she’d bought him ear-plugs, the kind that might provide relief the way they did to her when Rhys and Feyre grew too loud.

He’d given her a necklace in return, and when his fingers trailed her neck, Elain had shivered with the sudden awareness that she’d been wrong about him, that he wasn’t like her after all. He wanted her, and she… she wanted connection. She wanted to feel like nothing was wrong with her, wanted to prove to herself it was only lingering human sensibilities holding her back, not a lack of drive or passion. So she’d told him yes, watched the way his expression changed as he’d leaned down to kiss her.

She’d waited for him to do it, closing her eyes and holding her breath for the moment when it would all change, but it never came. He’d retreated instead, his shadows swirling angrily a few paces away as he told her it was a mistake.

A mistake.

Somehow, he’d known. His shadows had sensed it, or he could scent it on her, that her body was only reacting to stimulation, not to any actual desire on her part.

Yet again, she wasn’t enough for someone she thought she could love.

“I’m sorry,” she’d said. Sorry that she wasn’t enough, sorry that she didn’t truly want him physically, sorry that she was broken in a way that was apparently unforgivable to them. Sorry that she was relieved, too.

She’d given back the necklace later that night, while he was at the house of wind. Even with his joking and halfhearted complaining about Cassian and Nesta, he’d chosen to spend the night dealing with them, rather than sleep under the same roof as her. It might have been kinder, she thought to herself, if he had used truthteller instead of his actions to cut her heart.

To cut physical gaps in her, to make it obvious to everyone else what she already knew.

That she was empty inside. Not enough for anyone. Alone, and doomed to remain that way.

A puzzle with pieces missing.

---

“Shit!” Elain hissed, drawing her finger to her mouth quickly as it flared with pain, the faint red mark of a burn visible when she looked. Her oven mitts apparently had a hole in them, which she’d just found out the hard way. She grabbed a towel to cover the hole, finishing up removing the cinnamon and apple pie from the oven before sticking her hand under a bit of water.

She could see the back garden through the window over the sink, spotless in white from the snowfall that had been collecting for the past three days.

There was the faint sound of wings a moment later, then a shadow over the sparkling snow as Azriel flew away. Elain’s good mood - which had persevered throughout the burn - faded. He’d still not talked to her since that disastrous Solstice one year earlier, and though she loved her family and wanted to spend time with them, she wasn’t looking forward to being stuck in a room with him all night either.

Behind her, someone coughed, trying to get her attention. Elain whirled, heart sinking as she took in the red hair and metal eye, the stunning face it accompanied. Lucien had arrived while she was daydreaming, managing to sneak up on her with a plate of food in his hands. He glanced out the window too, something bitter crossing his face for a heartbeat before he hid it.

“Feyre told me you were collecting all the food in here first,” he said, gazing at the counter where the solstice meal was being laid out, platter by platter as Elain finished them. The pie had been done first so that it might have enough time to cool and set properly, while the turkey was halfway done, and the side dishes were prepped to be put in the oven soon. Dinner would be served in an hour and a half, and she intended for everything to be either hot and fresh or perfectly chilled when everyone sat down to the table.

She hadn’t realized Lucien was coming.

She’d been cooking everything today, even requesting that Nuala and Cerridwen not help and allow her to be alone with her thoughts for the day. Had she known, she would have never made such a request.

Lucien’s eye twitched, clearly hearing her pulse ratchet up in her chest.

He stepped into the kitchen fully, heading toward the food.

“No!” she blurted, also stepping forward with the intent of blocking him. He couldn’t eat the food; she wouldn’t let him. Lucien jerked to a halt, wide eyed.

“No?” he repeated, confused. “Then where?”

Where? Elain shut her mouth with a click. The food, of course. He was only putting down the dish he had brought, not attempting to eat what she had made and trap her in a frenzy.

Elain shook her head slightly. “Nevermind,” she muttered, shame heating her cheeks. “You can put it there.”

Lucien stepped closer cautiously, like he expected her to yell at him again. She watched his hands as he set his food down - some casserole dish with what looked like pumpkin and corn. When he pulled back, he kept his hands visible, and she glanced up to his face just in time to see him hide his irritation.

“I’m not going to take any,” he said. “It’s why I bring my own food, alright?”

Elain forced her shoulders to loosen, raising her chin and giving him a bland smile. “Of course,” she said, turning her back to him. He’d been doing it for every “family” dinner for the past two years, and normally Elain wasn’t as worried he’d try something. But seeing Azriel for that half moment had jarred her, apparently, into forgetting that fact.

“I’ll see you tonight, then?” Lucien asked.

Elain hummed, not facing him as his footsteps faded away.

Tonight. Elain sighed, bracing her hands on the counter and hanging her head. It was just one more thing to dread.

---

The dinner passed with the expected awkwardness, though Elain was grateful that Cassian and Nesta were there to draw most of the attention. They were in the middle of a disagreement, bickering playfully about children of their own. Rhys and Feyre were on Cassian’s side, wanting a little cousin for Nyx soon, but Nesta was stubbornly holding out. Elain passed her an extra slice of pie, smiling at her older sister when Nesta looked over and sending her a wink.

Nesta smiled back in that small way of hers, accepting the dessert and immediately digging in. Elain knew Nesta agreed with Cassian in her heart, and had seen visions of their future daughter many times, but Nesta also lived for the thrill of the chase, to see how long she could hold out and fight. Cassian knew it, too - he never would have brought up the subject if they hadn’t already discussed it privately in depth. But he lived for the thrill of the fight, and there was nothing he loved more than finally getting Nesta to admit what she wanted, getting her to give in and take what he was giving.

Throughout it, Lucien refused to look at her. Azriel kept stealing glances.

Elain hadn’t gotten either male a gift this year - she never got one for Lucien, and she was still too hurt by Azriel to have made such an overture again - and the gift-giving passed quickly, if a little tense from the lines everyone could see had been drawn.

Nyx began fussing close to eight, already past his bedtime and not happy about it, so Feyre and Rhys departed up the staircase to put him to bed, while Nesta and Cassian left to celebrate the holiday on their own. Nesta’s friends hadn’t been able to make it, though Elain knew they were waiting for the couple back in the house of wind. Mor begged off next, still exhausted from her trip back from the continent, as if she’d done anything more than wait for Azriel to arrive and get her. And Amren simply vanished, there one second and gone the next, her small stature used to her advantage as she ducked out of the townhouse and back to her own apartment. Lucien cleared his throat in the resulting silence, standing from his lone seat in the corner and disappearing into the kitchen with his own tray and a halfhearted excuse about doing the dishes.

Leaving Elain and Azriel alone.

His shadows hid behind his wings, judging her like they always did.

“You look… nice,” he said. “The dress suits you.”

Elain shrugged demurely, not really wanting to talk with him. “Feyre gave it to me.” In the kitchen, the water turned on and dishes began to clang - Lucien doing his best to not have to listen to Elain talk with Azriel.

Azriel’s lip curled, eyes narrowing in the direction of the open door. “Could he be any louder with that?” he asked lowly. “Leave it to a Vanserra to inte-”

“Oh give it a rest, would you?” Elain snapped, cutting off the shadowsinger’s complaint. “What did Lucien ever do to you? Why do you hate him so much?”

Azriel only allowed himself to look stunned for a moment. “He’s a Vanserra, why wouldn’t I hate him?”

“Because he’s a perfectly decent male who can’t help the father he was born to any more than the rest of us,” Elain said. She knew from a vision he was a Spellcleaver, that Azriel had been told by Rhys as well, but what she had said would be more impactful to the shadowsinger. Besides, Lucien didn’t know yet, and even with the water running, he could likely hear their raised voices.

“I thought you didn’t like him either,” Azriel challenged her. “That you wanted anyone else than your mate.” The bitterness there was surprising, because it had been Azriel who had rejected her, not the other way around. What right did he have to be angry about it, to still be jealous of a bond she could not control?

“I like him fine,” she said. “He’s quite nice, and he puts up with everyone’s disrespect with more grace than you afford him. I’m just not attracted to him. I can’t give him the physicality he’ll want and need because of the bond, as you’re well aware, given it’s why you rejected me too.”

Azriel had only one tell for his surprise, and that was that he had no tells at all. He was so good at hiding himself most of the time, that if he was truly looking unphased, it meant he was in complete mastery of himself in that moment. It was intentional - people hated silence, so would continue to spill information if he left it there.

Even knowing that, Elain couldn’t stop herself from adding, “I’ll never be enough for him, just like I wasn’t enough for Grayson, or for you.”

“That wasn’t-” Azriel shook his head. “That’s not why I stopped. Rhys ordered me to stay away. It wasn’t that I didn’t want you.”

The fight rushed out of Elain in an instant. All this time, she had thought it her fault, not her brother-in-law’s meddling.

“Did he say why?” Perhaps he had heard her thoughts? Had wanted to protect her from something she wasn’t seeking.

Azriel sneered, his head jerking toward the open door of the kitchen, where the water and clang of dishes had fallen suspiciously silent. “Because you're his mate, and he could call a blood duel and ruin our alliances if I didn’t stop pursuing you.”

So it wasn’t protection, or at least not of her. Protection of court politics, prevention of war. But it was cruel, and disregarded Elain’s right to choose. Azriel’s right as well. But try as she might, she couldn’t fully be mad, not when it had spared her a night of pretending.

“Lucien wouldn’t do that,” Elain said tiredly, leaning back in her chair and casting her eyes upward, like if she squinted hard enough she might see Rhys and Feyre and Nyx through the ceiling.

“He certainly wouldn’t win,” Azriel added.

Elain met his gaze coolly. “He might,” she said. “He’s a warrior too, don’t forget that.” He burns, and you’re afraid of fire, she didn’t say aloud. “Besides, if you truly had fought him over the right to be with me, I never would have said yes. I’m tired of bloodshed, especially when you could have just talked to me. To him. And, given that you clearly wanted something I can’t give…”

“You owe him no loyalty,” Azriel said. “You can be with people other than him.”

“No, I can’t.” Elain said, letting out a disappointed, grieving sigh as he continued to not understand. “I’m not… like you. Sex isn’t important to me. I don’t really like it, don’t get anything from it. If you wanted me because of that, you were always going to be disappointed with the outcome. If you wanted me for company though, to be a partner by your side, that I can do.” She didn’t dare let any hope enter her voice. Maybe he’d be willing to try again, now that the truths were laid out between them.

She met his eyes, the question hovering there. But Azriel didn’t answer. He shifted his wings a little closer to his back as he turned his head away, shame visible.

Elain closed her eyes for a moment, drawing her strength back to her. “It wasn’t the reason then,” she said. “But it is now, right?”

He still didn’t answer.

“It’s fine,” she said, finally opening her eyes and standing from her seat. “I already knew I wasn’t enough for anyone. This doesn’t change anything as far as I’m concerned. You don’t have to feel guilty for it.”

“Elain…” He finally said, standing and reaching for her with one hand, but she shook her head, turning from him and heading up the stairs to her room.

“Have a good night, Azriel. Happy Solstice.”

---

In the dark hours of the night, Elain woke to a silent house. She reached for the cup of water at her bedside, but her hand grasped only empty air. She wasn’t sure what had woken her, but nothing felt wrong, so she quietly padded down the hallway and descended the stairs by memory. The moonlight lit the way up through the windows, and Elain took a moment to glance out at her garden. Snow was lightly falling again, giving a fresh dusting to the yard. She smiled, a vision of Nyx’s joy at playing in it the next day - and the snowball fight his father would be losing - floating through her consciousness before she brushed it aside and continued on her way.

The water was cold enough to chill her hand through the glass as it filled, and when she took a sip, she felt the cold trail through her throat to her stomach, sending a shiver through her. It didn’t help that her feet were bare, or that she hadn’t pulled a robe over her sleeveless nightgown. Gooseflesh erupted down her arms, and she absently rubbed one as she took another sip, hoping to settle it down.

“You’re cold.”

Elain shrieked in surprise, whirling around and barely managing to stop herself from dropping and shattering her glass. For the second time that day, Lucien had startled her while she stood at the kitchen sink. This time, he looked less put together, sleep rumpled and bleary eyed from being woken up, a blanket around his shoulders like a cloak, held together with one hand at his chest. It was adorable, though she’d never say such a thing aloud.

“Apologies,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I didn’t realize you were still here,” she said.

“My apartment is being reroofed,” he explained. “Feyre’s been letting me stay here until it gets fixed. Only three more days, if all goes well.”

Silence fell between them, until Elain shivered again and set the glass down, even if it meant one less thing between them. Lucien glanced down at her arms again, then pulled the blanket from his own shoulders, holding it out to her.

Hesitantly, she took it, wrapping it around her. She was immediately warmed, and the scent of woodsmoke and Lucien's apple shampoo surrounded her, just like that day in Hybern. Even the nightgown was similar. He must have thought the same, because he retreated a step, looking away apologetically.

“Thank you,” she said.

Lucien seemed to steady himself, brace himself for something. “Can I ask you something?”

Elain nodded. “I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

Lucien raised his eyes to hers, a determined glint in them as he spoke. “You avoid me whenever possible, and for a long time I’ve thought it was because it was me that unsettles you. But what you were saying earlier - am I wrong? Is your problem with me, specifically? Or with the bond itself? What it… causes?”

She could crush his heart so easily. It was thundering so hard in his chest, the sound pulling her in, and she knew one word from her would be the end of it. One lie to say it was him, push the blame onto someone else, rather than her own inadequacies.

The tension between them was thick, as Lucien waited for the answer, one way or another. As Elain debated which one to give.

She looked away from him as she decided, not wanting to see his face as she whispered, “The second one. It’s never been you.”

His relief was palpable in how he released his held breath, how he strode forward a few steps, hand reaching out for her of its own accord. He froze mere inches away from touching her, forcing his hand back down to his side.

“And if it weren’t for that, would you have been more open to me? To us?”

Elain didn’t like where the conversation was going, the way he seemed to be leading her into admitting something that might trap her. But she nodded anyway. His face lit up like the sun, that golden eye catching light and sparkling as if it wasn’t still hours until the sunrise.

He stepped closer again, and Elain backed up a step, her back hitting the counter, trapping her in place as he rested his hands on either side of her. No part of him touched her, but Elain swore she could feel him, feel the bond tugging on her ribs as he said, “I want to court you. Will you let me?”

She swallowed at his nearness, the warmth radiating off him. She could feel it even though the blanket around her shoulders, the ghosting of his breath on her face. But even then, it didn’t feel the same way as it had with Grayson or Azriel. She knew he had no intention of trying to steal a kiss from her, not right then. He just wanted to be next to her.

She shook her head. “I can’t. It’s not fair to ask that of me.”

“One meal,” he countered. “Lunch, tomorrow, to talk. To explain things. To see if we can make it work, please.”

“I’ll never accept the bond, you have to know that. We won’t work,” she started to say again, but he interrupted her.

“I don’t need sex, Elain. That is not a dealbreaker for me.”

For a moment, a kernel of hope sprouted within her, vicious and unrelenting like a blackberry bramble. She feared pricking herself on the thorns. “You don’t mean that.”

He ducked his head slightly, stealing her gaze so that she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. “I do.”

She could feel his conviction through the bond, and it made her weak. It made her want, more than she had in a long, long time. She wanted to believe in fairytales, in happily-ever-after’s and good things, in stories where the hero and the princess found love and never faced any problems.

She craved it, and here Lucien was, offering it on a silver platter. And Elain… even if it turned out he was wrong, that he hadn’t realized how hard it would be after time passed and she stuck to her words, she could have it for this short time.

What was the phrase again - better to have loved and lost? Better to pretend for however many months it took for him to break than to live the rest of her immortal life without even that lie to comfort her.

She leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder. He stiffened for only a moment, then let one hand drift up to rest between her shoulder blades.

“Okay,” she agreed softly. “One meal. Convince me.”

His other hand came up from the counter, and he tipped his head to the side to rest his cheek on the top of hers.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

They stood there in the silent dark until the clock chimed the top of the hour, when Elain finally pulled back from his embrace.

“Don’t make me regret this.” she said, before leaving him be and heading back up to her room.

---

Elain woke late in the morning, the events of the night coming back to her within moments of opening her eyes. In her chest, the little blackberry bramble bloomed, the roots spreading throughout her lungs, between her ribs, up her throat. She hacked away at it in her mind, trying not to get ahead of herself. Not to put too much stock in the outcome of the day, not to let the budding hope bloom into fruit just for Lucien to let her down - let it rot.

She shoved her blankets off her and padded into the bathroom, turning the water in the tap to scalding and sinking beneath the water. She held her breath for as long as she could, then rose and bathed, until her skin was hopelessly flushed. She couldn’t stand the cold, hated the way the water would turn her fingers and toes pruny if she stayed too long. She much preferred the heat, even if it hurt.

Cold water reminded her too much of the cauldron, and even though her transformation hadn’t been as violent as Nesta’s, it hadn’t been easy either. And on a day like today, with so much riding on luck, she wasn’t willing to start it off with a bad morning.

Lucien wasn’t in the house when she descended the stairs again; she hadn’t been able to hear his heartbeat at all since she’d woken. She knew he wasn’t backing out, and wondered where he’d run off to. What he might be doing.

When she turned inward, the bond between them was faint - he wasn’t even in the Night Court.

Rhys was gone as well, along with Azriel and Cassian presumably, for their annual snowball fight. Feyre was sleepily making tea in the kitchen, one shoulder of her cardigan hanging from a bruised and bitten shoulder. She glowed with happiness, and Elain couldn’t help the discomforted pursing of her lips from knowing what caused the marks.

“Good morning,” she said. Feyre blinked as she looked up, then smiled.

“Good morning to you too,” her sister said. Did you sleep well?”

Elain wondered for a moment if Feyre knew what had happened in the night, if she’d woken at some point and Elain had been unaware, too drawn in by Lucien.

“I did,” she replied, waiting to see if Feyre might push for more.

Feyre simply smiled at her again and returned to fixing her tea. Elain relaxed; her sister didn’t know yet.

Which meant she couldn’t meddle.

“Do you want some?” Feyre asked, gesturing back to the cabinetry where the mugs were kept. Elain shook her head. She was already jittery enough, she didn’t need to add caffeine to the mix.

“I’ll fix some breakfast,” she said. “Any requests?”

Feyre shook her head. “Nothing special, maybe just some toast?”

Elain set to work, cutting two slices from the previous day’s loaf and slathering them both with a rich cranberry preserve she’d been saving for a special occasion. Feyre was already sitting at the table, and Elain slid one plate in front of her just in time for her sister to sit up, alarm crossing her face.

A moment later, the wards around the house fizzed as something cut through them - a winnower - and then two voices were arguing in the living room. One was Lucien, the other Elain didn’t recognize.

Feyre was already up and rushing to the room, so Elain trailed behind her, worried for Lucien. She hadn’t seen anything in her dreams that might suggest a fight or danger, but she didn’t see everything.

“Ah, Feyre, good morning,” the stranger said. “Mind telling me why I caught your emissary destroying my wards?”

Elain finally recognized the stranger, despite never having seen him before - Helion Spellcleaver, Lucien’s father. He was holding Lucien by the back of his jacket right at the collar, reminding Elain of the way a vixen might carry their kit around by the scruff of their neck. Lucien completed the picture, his eyes glinting with mischief and the high of victory. Whatever it was he’d been doing before getting caught by his unknowing father, he’d succeeded first.

His hands were dirty, with streaks on his pants from where he’d hastily brushed them off, but it was caked underneath his nails. He’d been digging.

“Lucien,” Feyre sighed, pinching her brows between two fingers. “What were you doing in Day?”

Lucien glanced at Elain, lips quirking upward for a moment. “Exploring,” he replied wryly. “It’s been too long since I’ve been in the Day Court. I wanted to refamiliarize myself. For the sake of my emissary duties, of course.”

“Of course,” Feyre replied, voice as dry as Day’s deserts. “Apologies for him, Helion. I’ll see to it that it doesn’t happen again.”

Lucien rolled his eyes as Helion finally let him go, giving him a little shove toward Feyre. Lucien stumbled for only one step, then righted himself, straightening his jacket by tugging the bottom.

“I might suggest a leash for the little fox,” Helion said. “If I catch him again, I’m not going to return him nicely.”

Elain watched Lucien curiously as he approached her, clearly determined now that she was before him. He stopped directly before her, slinging a glamoured satchel off his back. Both Helion and Feyre went silent as the glamour faded, watching Lucien with equal fascination.

Lucien held the bag out to her. “For you.”

Elain raised a delicate brow as she accepted the gift. When she opened it, she gasped, snapping her eyes back up to Lucien’s.

“They’re called Osteospermum,” he explained. “A type of daisy native only to the Day court.”

“All of them?” she asked, looking back in the bag. There were several plants in the bag, each with a different pattern.

“All of them,” he confirmed. “I grabbed all the ones that looked like sunlight. I thought the Night Court could do with a little more of it.”

Indeed he had: some were a purpley black at the center with butter yellow petals, others were orange in the center fading to pink at the tips like a sunrise, others were lavender fading to orange like a sunset. One was bright yellow, with a thick stripe of red down the center of each petal.

All of them were still attached to roots, soil clinging to them. He’d dug them up for her, so that she might plant them in the garden, bring a little bit of brightness to Night.

“Thank you,” she said, overcome with the gift. Lucien beamed at her. Normally, Elain suppressed the bond between them, but this time, she opened it wide and shoved the feeling the gift gave her at him. His mouth parted silently as he felt the full scope of her appreciation.

“You destroyed my wards to steal flowers?” Helion said, incredulity audible.

Lucien ignored him; so did Elain.

“I need to clean up a bit before we go,” Lucien said quietly. “If you're still willing?”

Elain nodded, dumbfounded. Grayson had given her living flowers, sure. But he’d bought them - bought a rose bush from a landscaper that had been planted for her in the grounds of the manor under her supervision, not by her own hands. She’d appreciated the gift then, sure - but she’d never loved roses the way she loved other flowers. They were overused, as far as she thought, too often used as a romantic move simply because everyone said they were. But these-

Lucien knew she wanted the sunlight. Knew she’d love these far more. And he’d gotten them with his own hands, not money, with no intention of letting anyone else touch them. They were for her hands alone to plant, to care for.

This was ten times the gift Grayson had given, because Lucien had put more thought into it. Even with mere hours to prepare - hours he also needed to spend sleeping - he’d done this.

Elain hugged the satchel to her chest, dipping her head to smell the sweet scent wafting up. If this was his idea of a first courting gift, she wondered what else he might have in store for the day.

---

Somehow, Lucien knew of her favorite café in Velaris.

It was a tiny little thing, with large windows to let in the light, packed to the brim with plants on every possible surface. Ivy climbed the walls between the panes, ferns in the corners, the ever dramatic pothos perched on shelves in several places, the leaves dripping down as if to beg for attention and always more water from the visitors.

He pulled out her chair for her, scooting it in as she sat. The server appeared a moment later. Elain studied him as he ordered, the fall of his hair, the gleam of his metal eye, the light scar that cut through it. The sunlight that came through the windows clung to him, and he didn’t even realize.

He watched her in return while the server set their order down, until Elain cleared her throat, took a sip of her steaming tea, and said, “You wanted to talk?”

Lucien took a sip of his tea as well. “Yes. I- How are you, today?”

It clearly wasn’t what he really wanted to say, but Elain saw no problem answering honestly, in jumping straight into the issue. “As fair as I could hope, given everything. But doubting. You say sex isn’t a dealbreaker for you, but I don’t really believe you. You might think you mean it now, but in six weeks? Six months? A year from now? Eventually you’ll change your mind, realize you can’t live without it. And I don’t want to be hurt when you finally have that realization. I refuse to be cast aside for another, but I also refuse to give in and change my mind.”

Lucien winced, taking her words to heart. Elain had known it was too good to be true, and now she would have to face the consequences of her actions, of telling Lucien the truth.

“Has Feyre told you about… about Jesminda?” Lucien asked, changing the subject and refusing to discuss her concerns. It wasn’t a good start, to say the least.

Elain didn’t recognize the name, and so shook her head. Lucien sighed, bringing one hand up to run it through the hair low on his neck - obviously some form of soothing, stress relief.

“Up until you tumbled out of the cauldron, I thought I had already met my mate. Met her and lost her. The bond never snapped between us, for obvious reasons in hindsight, but I would have sworn it existed then.”

Another woman. Female, whatever. Lucien was in love with another female, or at least had been at one point. Jealousy stirred within her, irrational but poignant none-the-less.

“She was a lesser fae, and my father did not approve of the relationship, to say the least. He had her tortured and beheaded in front of me, after which I fled to Spring, where I stayed for the next two centuries, give or take.”

The jealousy receded, replaced with embarrassment and mortification. At least she’d kept her expression neutral, so Lucien would hopefully be none the wiser.

“I’m sorry that happened,” she said. “Losing a loved one is always… hard.”

Lucien smiled his thanks, bitter and grieving even as he appreciated her saying it. “Me too,” he said, falling into silence for a moment as he lived his memories once more. “But that’s not the point. The point is that Jes and I carried on our relationship for over ten years before Beron discovered it. And, in those ten years, we never so much as kissed.”

Elain’s attention focused with archer-like precision on Lucien. Velaris could be burning around her and she wouldn’t so much as blink, lest she miss his next words.

“She loved holding my hand, playing with my hair. Sitting with me in my arms, even falling asleep together. But nothing more. It didn’t change how we loved each other.”

Ten years. She hadn’t thought he would be okay with waiting one year. But he’d been with Jes for a decade - barely anything to a fae, admittedly - and had merely thought her his mate. He’d been willing- no, happy with her, happy to spend the rest of his life never feeling her touch. He’d said as much to Elain, but she hadn’t believed it, not really.

“You aren’t like me and her, though. Right?” she asked.

Lucien gave her a rueful grin. “No, but it’s not as big of an issue as you seem to think it is. With Jes, I fully expected I would die without ever having sex again. And I was okay with it. I loved her for who she was far more than for what she could give me.”

“You don’t love me, though,” Elain said. “You barely even know me, thanks to me.”

Lucien studied her for a long moment. “Perhaps,” he finally allowed. “But I could.”

“Know me?”

“Love you. I think it would be easy to love you.”

Just as she felt about him - that he would be easy to fall in love with if she only let herself.

And she deserved to let herself.

“Okay,” she said softly.

“Okay?”

“You’ve convinced me.” Her lips tugged up at the corners. “We can try to make this work.”

There were still things they’d need to talk about, plans for the future they’d need to make align. Pasts to share, and the present to mold. But Elain finally had faith that it was possible.

Lucien beamed. It was so beautiful, Elain couldn’t help but slide her hand across the table to him. Lucien took it without looking away from her face, but Elain watched the way their fingers tangled, the way his thumb brushed back and forth a few times over hers.

A vision snagged her attention. Barely a second long, but intense. Their hands together again, a wedding ring glinting in the light. They were sitting together in a home, and a little girl was curled up asleep between them. She looked nothing like either of them, but Elain knew it was her child, could feel the love she would have for the girl even from the brief glimpse.

She looked up, meeting Lucien’s gaze once again. For the first time in years, she wasn’t scared of what the future might mean for them. She tightened her grip on his hand, standing up and dragging her chair around to his side of the table.

“In the interest of keeping things honest, I should probably tell you I made no plans for after lunch. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. Is there anything you might like to do?”

Elain thought for a moment, still staring again at the way their hands fit together perfectly. Then she grinned. Lucien’s breath caught, and she heard his heart skip a beat.

“I’ve always loved puzzles,” she said. “Care to find one for us to solve?”

Lucien tilted his head in thought. “I have one in my apartment right now, actually. I bought it secondhand though, so it might be missing a few pieces.”

Elain laughed quietly. “That makes it even better,” she said.

“Yeah?” Lucien’s lips tugged to the side, fox-like mischief flickering in his eyes. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Elain stood, pulling him to his feet after her. “Lead the way.”

Lucien tugged her out the door, never dropping her hand once the entire way home.

#elucienweek2023 #acotar fic #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fic #bela writes

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theladyofbloodshed · 1 year

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hi!! I already know how you pretty much feel about Rhys, but I want to know what you feel about Tamlin? I find it pretty amusing how the fandom treats the two characters.

Rhys can do pretty much all bad things due to trauma and his love for Feyre, but Tamlin cannot do bad things due to trauma and his love for Feyre. (not trying to excuse him but trying to make a point lol)

Here are some double standards that I can think of right now

~ Locking Feyre up: If Velaris wasn't shielded I doubt Rhys would allow her to walk freely and not to mention once she met with the IC she always had "sentries" with her (cough IC cough) AND the fact Rhys is constantly in her head.

~ Working with Amarantha. Rhys did that to protect Velaris and IC just like Tamlin allied with Hybern to protect (& get Feyre back).

Rhys did more damage to Pythian allying with Amarantha than Tamlin did with Hybern.

~ Rhys would kill Nesta and Elain in a heartbeat to protect Feyre. But Tamlin "selling them out" is evil

Im sure there are more, but these are the ones I can think of right now :)

Stans will bend over backwards to excuse his actions and it's just weird tbh.

Rhys is constantly invading her privacy. Feyre tells him to leave when she wants to speak to Nesta in the tavern, but he is still in her head. He puts a shield around her when pregnant because he's "protective", but like she's in a very safe city around your closest friends? Then has no problem showing her off in the Hewn City when she was heavily pregnant and half naked.

I liked Tamlin in the first book (granted, I preferred Lucien and wondered why Feyre wasn't on her knees begging him for a taste). I went into it knowing it was a BatB retelling so he was supposed to be a beast. Even though there was a curse that meant he needed to fall in love with her, I found his attempts at befriending her to be genuine. Playing the fiddle whilst she danced, writing her poetry to help her learn new words, offering to help her read etc.

There were times when he was as protective as Rhys, but it was when a) she was mortal b) didn't listen to warnings and actively put herself into danger. Rhys puts her into danger to make her collect a ring and try to use her powers, but then is overprotective when it's not called for.

I blame Rhys/SJM/Feyre for the assassination of his character. Rhys and Amarantha contributed to his paranoia and fear for Feyre's life. Of course, he would not believe that Feyre had really written him a note that she was staying with the NC because a) rhys is his enemy b) he watched feyre drugged and SA by him every night c) she can't read d) they had never actually had a conversation about her not being happy in the relationship.

Rhys is heralded as progressive and wonderful for making Feyre his high lady. Tamlin is vilified because he didn't. Feyre seems to forget that she once told him that she wouldn't want to be high lady when he tells her it doesn't exist. Feyre says she wouldn't want to be the wife of a high lord producing little heirs and then proceeded to do exactly that within 2 years of meeting Rhys (when he was SA her). Feyre changes her mind and is angry with Tamlin. As if it's his fault that there had never been a high lady before and Feyre didn't want to be it anyway.

He gets blamed for Nesta and Elain being turned. When you try to blame feysand, it's not their fault, it's all Ianthe's fault. So why is it Tamlin's fault that Feyre told Ianthe all of the information about her sisters and brought the Illyrians to their home? Rhys is the one who promised E&N that there would be round the clock guards to keep them safe. But it's not their fault!!!! It's Tamlin's fault!!

I feel sorry for him tbh. He could have not helped them in Hybern's camp, he could have not given his drop of power to bring rhys back to life. But he did those things because he cared for feyre and wanted her to be happy. Rhys didn't bother letting tamlin know that Ianthe was nefarious when she wheedled her way into an unstable Spring Court where there was a traumatised high lord and his potential mate, but he likes to go there and kick Tamlin when he's down because he's just an ass.

#anon asks

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nikethestatue · 7 months

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Anon, who said they couldn't handle this fandom anymore because of the horrible behavior and absolutely crazy and even harmful takes, is so true. Like Elain being hated for "not doing anything" when she is the one who killed the main enemy saving everyone? Feyre being shamed and hated for pretty much everything she does especially for not being nice and understanding to Tamlin as if she didn't spend a good part of MAF making excuses for him being physically aggressive? I understand that SF wasn't great but it wasn't that bad either. The core message of the book is very obvious yet I sleep completely misinterpreting the book saying Nesta is "oppressed" and "shamed" by Feyre, Elain and the IC until she changes herself as if she was doing amazing before their interference. Do these people think Nesta's coping mechanism was healthy? That she didn't deserve to be helped by people around her? How did stans make Nesta growing to be a healthier version of herself a bad thing? People bringing up Geneva convention to hate om the mcs like...??? what is even going on anymore. I'm just so tired it's not even a fun kind of discourse it's just biased af takes coming from people who hate everything and everyone in the series except three characters. Some of it I think is SJM's fault. Do you think if she hadn't dragged this series on for so long this would be happening? I feel the fandom has now just grown to hate everything about acotar. I see people who are either critical of the work or straight up haters I don't see fans anymore. It's exhausting was the fandom always so bitter towards these books or is it just the curse of acosf?

I absolutely, 98% blame SJM and BB for all of this.

All of this nonsense could've been nipped in the bud YEARS ago.

She could've posted a message on her Insta saying that the discourse around some topics and characters is not what she intended it to be and not appropriate. She could've given an encouraging message along the lines of 'let's celebrate women, of all shapes, sizes, abilities and backgrounds. Let's celebrate choices. Let's celebrate accomplishments. Their journeys."

There is literally NOTHING secret about her telling everyone 'there will be a book devoted to EACH Archeron sister'. That's it. That's already 90% of BS that we are experiencing. This is not a shocking revelation. And it's BS that BB won't allow her to say that. She's been yakking it up about Nesta for a year before the book was published.

They are enjoying the craziness, the attention and all of it is on them.

Also, you don't change the direction of a series mid-series. If you are trying to target a completely different audience, then you need to make sure that you write accordingly and make it clear that this is an adult book. Put some trigger warnings or something. Make it actually ADULT. There is great inequity in how these books are perceived by someone who is 13 (who shouldn't be reading ACOSF) and someone who is 35.

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nestaismommy · 1 year

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No, it’s not Feyre’s fault and “stupidity” that her sisters were dumped into the cauldron. That’s all on the people who betrayed her trust and confided with while she’s dealing with her own depression. We can blame for Feysand for a lot of things but this is not it.

Hi anon.

You’re right, she didn’t know, I was trying to say that at the end of the day, if Feyre didn’t reveal so much info about her family to someone random, Elain and Nesta wouldn’t have had to experience these traumatic events. My bad. I worded it wrong, she wasn’t stupid. She just wasn’t careful. It was all Ianthe. Feyre did call herself stupid tho 😭. Anyways, what really got me, was how she ended up making it about herself. She just thought about how Nesta’s trauma responses are affecting her (Feyre) reputation as a high lady. It was disgusting. And don’t get me started on how she destroyed the spring court, a home to so many innocent lives, because of something IANTHE did. Now THAT was stupid.

By the way, I do not hate Feyre. She is one of the strongest characters I know. But I hate how she is never held accountable or punished for her actions because she “went through so much”. And she’s a hypocrite

This is just my opinion. It’s fine if you disagree. Please no hating, it’s all ink on paper. But if you really want to, you should comment instead of being a coward and doing it anonymously

#acowar #acosf #acomaf #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #pro nesta

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sayosdreams · 2 years

Text

Sand and Stardust - Chapter 20

Word Count: 4354

Chapter Index

ACOTAR Masterlist

__________

Warning: Panic Attack

__________

Lucien inhaled sharply. “I’m not your uncle, Khoniya.”

The room was still noisy, filled with patrons drinking and dancing, but their corner of the room was filled with a tense silence. Khoniya’s eyes seemed to be glowing softly as she stared at Lucien.

“Yes, you are,” she replied, her voice quiet but resolute.

Lucien shook his head. “I don’t deserve that title.”

“Yes, you do. What happened was awful and tragic, but it wasn’t your fault.”

His face made a pained expression. “Except, it was my fault.”

“No. She knew the consequences and dangers that came with being with you, but she chose you anyway. You did your best to keep her safe and make her happy, and most importantly, you loved her. So no, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Khoniya, you can’t deny that she wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for me,” he replied, his voice tired.

Khoniya tilted her head. “No, but she chose to live a full life filled with love and joy despite the dangers instead of a long, safer, monotonous one. To say that you’re to blame is to discount her choices. She chose love over safety. She knew what she was doing, and I think that she’d do it all again even if she knew what would happen.”

“I thought…” Lucien cleared his throat. “I thought you would hate me. I thought your family would want me dead for what I d— I mean, for what happened.”

She sighed. “I don’t know what they think. Some of them probably blame you, but that’s because they need someone to blame. It’s tough to blame the High Lord when you have to keep supporting him or risk your own life.

“Others probably don’t want to see you, because they try to block out the memory of what happened. But I could never hate you, Uncle Lucien. Not when I understand how Aunt Jesminda felt.”

At Lucien’s puzzled glance, Khoniya rushed to explain, “I have a husband who is High Fae. Being with him comes with risks — I had to give up a lot and it comes with its own problems — but I wouldn’t give it up for the world.”

“You’re married?” His voice was awed, as if he couldn’t believe it.

“I am.” Khoniya smiled, true joy entering her expression. “I think you’d like him. Would you like to come over some time? I’m sure my son would love to meet you, too.”

Lucien’s eyes widened, and Khoniya quickly backtracked. “I mean, I know you’re probably only here for a short time, and you probably have duties — I’m sure you’re busy so I understand if you can’t come.”

“I’d love to come over, if that’s okay with you,” Lucien said softly. Then, he grinned. “Wow, little Khoniya has a son, huh? Look at you, all grown up.”

Khoniya laughed, and Lucien joined in.

Nesta blinked at the scene. She had never seen Lucien look so delighted. Granted, she hadn’t spent much time around the male, but she had a feeling this could be the start of something special for both him and Khoniya.

“I’m sorry, what the hell is going on?” Rhysand interrupted. “How do you two know each other?”

Nesta wanted to punch him for interrupting the moment. She barely managed to contain the urge but settled for glaring at him.

Lucien’s face fell as Rhysand’s voice reminded him of where he was.

“I was… close with Khoniya’s aunt, Jesminda,” he said, his voice flat, so different from the lively tone he’d had moments earlier.

Rhysand raised an eyebrow and hummed in understanding, taking another sip of his drink. Nesta fisted her hands as she watched his bored expression. Nesta herself barely knew Lucien, but even she could tell this was likely a difficult topic for him. Hadn’t Lucien agreed to some role working for Rhysand? Surely, Rhysand should at least pretend to give a shit about him.

Khoniya glanced around the room for a moment before making eye contact with Nesta. Her eyes asked if Nesta could handle the situation — stand up and protect Saibh, Riona, and Cian if necessary. Nesta felt the weight of responsibility fall onto her shoulders as she nodded; however, instead of feeling like a burden, Nesta felt honored to have been entrusted with it.

Once, the people around Nesta — those who claimed to love her — had only ever seen her as a problem to be solved, a viper with fangs too sharp who had to be caged and put away for the safety of all. She would never have been allowed near any vulnerable person, let alone been tasked with defending them.

As Nesta rolled her shoulders, ready to fight til her last breath for her friends, she felt her heart warm. Yes, her family loved her, but they didn’t like her. They loved her because they had to, because they couldn’t help it, but not because they wanted to. How nice it was to be liked, to be trusted, to be wanted! How nice it was for those you love to believe in you — for them to believe you could be good! For them to think that you could be the hero of some story instead of the villain.

Khoniya shot Nesta a small smile, full of gratitude, before turning back to Lucien and asking, “Would you mind if we continued this conversation outside?”

Lucien, who was undoubtedly eager to get away from the crushing gazes of those who pretended to enjoy his company, followed her outside.

__________

“He came over yesterday, and he met Elian and Yaran,” Khoniya informed Nesta and Brielle as they sat around the table, feasting on the snacks Brielle had made. “By the Mother, it was so amazing — even better than I’d imagined. He got along great with Elian. And I think he loves kids; he was so great with Yaran.”

Nesta smiled at how content Khoniya looked.

“Were you very close to him when you were younger?” Nesta asked.

Khoniya tilted her head. “Kind of. It was… Well, he was very kind to me and the rest of my family. Some of my family disapproved of his relationship with my aunt Jesminda, but they didn’t say anything to his face, of course. But… He would play with me and the other kids a lot. He obviously didn’t want to get caught by his dad or brothers, but I could tell that he loved my aunt so much. As I get older, I think I understand and admire their bravery in staying in their relationship more and more.”

Khoniya fell silent for a moment. “I think, in another life, Uncle Lucien and Aunt Jesminda would have been the best parents. I think they would have wanted that too, if they had been in a world where it was safe for them to have a child together.”

Nesta could admit that she’d never cared enough to imagine Lucien’s past, let alone his dreams or failed hopes. Yet as Nesta rushed over to pick up her crying daughter, she wondered what it must be like for him to have lost not only his lover but the dreams of the life he wanted to build with her. She cradled Adira as her daughter suckled on her breast, and her heart clenched at the thought of this joy slipping through Lucien’s fingers.

The thought still preoccupied her as she walked home. The streets were teeming with fae of all sorts: high fae, lower fae, males, females, night court and other fae, all intermingling as they passed each other on the streets of Velaris. Nesta was struck with the realization that, like Lucien, all these strangers had full lives with their own problems and dreams.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t known this before. Of course she had, but only on a logical level. In the moment, Nesta felt the feeling swelling up inside her, churning, spinning her around as she navigated the sea of fae. So many lives, each tumultuous and complex in their own way, moved around her like a powerful current.

She clutched Adira tighter to her chest. Adira was the rock she clung to as the stormy waters tossed and turned. Adira had been so unexpected, and Nesta had felt so utterly unprepared for her — even now, she constantly worried whether she was a decent mother, let alone a good one — and yet no one had ever brought her so much joy. There was no one Nesta loved in the way she loved Adira. She couldn’t even begin to express how grateful she was to have Adira in her life.

“Nesta?”

Perhaps if Nesta had been paying more attention — if she hadn’t been so caught up in her head — she would have detected the scent earlier and managed to switch routes or hide in time.

“Nesta!”

Short of running away, which would be very difficult while carrying a baby, there was nothing Nesta could do to avoid the encounter as a familiar face greeted her.

“I haven’t met up with you in a while, and we didn’t get a chance to talk when I saw you at the dance club,” she laughed lightly.

Nesta stood still, frozen like a statue doomed to watch an explosion occur in slow motion.

“Anyway, how have you been? You look- Is that a baby?” Elain spluttered, her eyes rounding.

Nesta sighed internally. She’d known it was impossible that her sister wouldn’t notice the child in her arms, but that hadn’t stopped her from hoping for a miracle. Fortunately, Adira’s wings were hidden from sight by the soft lilac jacket Cassian had decided to make her wear over her onesie. There were not many Illyrians in Velaris, and Adira’s parentage would have become obvious to Elain the second she saw the tiny black wings.

Elain was silent for a few seconds, likely too stunned to speak. Her eyes drifted over Adira’s clothing to her light brown skin, her chubby cheeks, her dark hair that peeked out of her hood, and her long, dark lashes. Nesta could feel her sleeping daughter’s slow breathing against her shoulder and was thankful for the grounding rhythm as she tried to steady her nerves. Nesta wanted to believe that she didn’t care what Elain would say, that it didn’t matter what Elain thought of her having a child and being a mother. The truth, though, was that it did matter to her — far too much.

“Why are you holding a baby?” Elain’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing walking around with a baby? How- Whose baby is it?”

Nesta blinked. She hadn’t considered that Elain would think that the baby was anyone’s but her own. Perhaps Nesta could simply avoid answering the questions and let Elain assume that Nesta was babysitting.

Although, what if Elain grew concerned for the baby’s safety and wanted to escort the baby home? Perhaps she could pretend like the baby was Khoniya’s — surely Khoniya wouldn’t object to playing along for a few moments. Nesta would just need to find a way to communicate the situation to her. Perhaps Nesta could make a comment implying the situation to her subtly, without Elain realizing.

A small sound diverted Nesta’s thoughts. Adira made another squeaking cry and squirmed. Nesta quickly moved to caress her, gently soothing her while slightly rocking her in the way Adira always seemed to enjoy. Adira let out a tiny, content noise and settled down once more in Nesta’s grip. She yawned, her tiny mouth somehow expanding more and more as the rest of her face scrunched up. Nesta rubbed circles into her back, careful to avoid her folded wings.

She turned her focus back to her sister, who had started talking again. “How long have you been taking care of her — is it a her? Or a him? Is the b-” Elain cut herself off with a gasp.

Nesta followed Elain’s shocked gaze, to find Adira blinking her big blue-grey eyes. Eyes that were almost identical to Nesta’s.

Elain’s hand flew to her mouth. She stared. Her unblinking gaze remained on Adira’s face for several beats while Nesta grew more and more nervous.

Nesta had never been one to hate silence. When she’d had to share a bed with her sisters, she had relished any moment of silence and personal time she could get. Those moments had been like gasps of fresh air that she’d needed as she struggled not to get overwhelmed by the constant noise and company. Now, though, the silence shredded Nesta’s nerves just as the noise once had. She felt like a rope pulled so tight she’d snap unless Elain broke the silence and released her.

Finally, Elain looked at Nesta again. “You have a baby,” she said, her tone unreadable.

Nesta gave a small nod, unsure how she was supposed to reply. Did Elain think Nesta was unfit to be a mother? Was she mad that Nesta hadn’t told her about her pregnancy? Was she ashamed that Nesta had a child without getting married — or mated — first?

Elain’s face, which was usually bright and adorned with an ever-present kind smile, was blank. Nesta had always been able to easily read Elain’s emotions, and she felt a twinge of annoyance that she couldn’t do so now.

“Is it a girl?” Elain’s voice was strange, too. It wasn’t coated with that usual softness, but it was also different from the vacant voice she’d used when they’d first arrived in Velaris.

Nesta nodded again.

Elain tilted her head slightly to the left. Her cheeks were just as round as they’d always been, giving her face a much softer silhouette than Feyre’s or Nesta’s. Elain, who’d been a later bloomer than her sisters in all physical aspects, had often wondered if her cheeks were merely remnants of her baby fat that would disappear in her mid-twenties.

Nesta realized, eerily, that they would never find out. They were all trapped in time now, and their unaging bodies would become relics of a long-gone young adulthood even as their age increased. They would never develop the wrinkles their mother had worried about so much or the gray hairs their grandmother had despised. They would be the same — forever.

And yet, they would change. Nesta had already changed so much since she’d first gotten this body. She’d been depressed, an alcoholic, had sex, made friends, started working, become a mother, and so much more. She was no longer the same person she had been when she’d come out of the Cauldron.

As Elain’s unreadable eyes stared at her, she wondered if the same could be said of Elain. Perhaps Elain, too, had changed while Nesta hadn’t been watching; perhaps the person standing before her was someone new that Nesta did not understand fully in the ways she had understood her little sister.

Elain’s lips opened slightly, closed, and then opened once more. “What’s her name?”

Nesta answered, “Adira.” The corners of her lips curled up, as they always did when she uttered her daughter’s name. She could read all the books in the world and learn every language, but her daughter’s name would always be her most treasured word.

Elain turned her eyes towards the baby and repeated, “Adira.”

Her lips finally turned into a smile, and Nesta felt relieved she could read her sister’s expression once more. Yet, as Elain looked up, Nesta realized that Elain’s smile was not simply one of joy — it was tinged with something else, something she couldn’t entirely untangle. Was that — longing? Regret? Love? Respect?

She gave Nesta a warm but firm nod, a gesture that was so un-Elain-like that it was all Nesta could do to school her own expression.

“Well,” Elain said, tucking a loose face-framing strand of hair behind her ear, “I hope I can see you both again sometime soon.”

She smiled, her light brown eyes almost appearing to glow in the light. Then, she stepped back into the bustling crowd on the street.

It took several moments for Nesta’s shock to subside; long enough to realize she’d yet to ask Elain not to reveal her daughter’s existence to anyone else. She opened her mouth to speak, but Elain had already disappeared into the crowd — just as she always had.

__________

“Hey, Nesta! I’m home! I brought back some sweets with me, since the bakery was having a special— ” Cassian paused, the door swinging shut behind him. “What’s wrong?”

The shift in his tone, from joyful and bubbly to dark and worried, was so dramatic that at any other time Nesta surely would have raised an eyebrow or made some type of quip about his range.

Now, however, she could only stare at him, willing her tongue to form words that her mind couldn’t generate.

“Are you hurt? Is Adira— where’s Adira?” he asked, his voice getting louder and more concerned with every word.

Nesta had enough clarity to glance towards their room. Cassian rushed in, his body so tense that it seemed like it could break. Nesta didn’t know if he returned in seconds, minutes, or hours, as understanding time seemed to have moved beyond her capacities. When he did return, presumably having checked on Adira, he seemed calmer and quieter.

He sat down beside her on the sofa. Nesta noted the heat he seemed to radiate, even as he left a hand-sized space between their knees.

“Did something happen?” Cassian asked, his voice so soft — so kind and supportive — that Nesta wanted to cry.

She opened her mouth, but the words would not come. How could she explain how badly she’d fucked everything up? How she’d frozen in front of her little sister and how their encounter had been so strange that she could barely process it?

“Nesta?” he prompted, reaching out a hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She looked up at him, and their eyes met. His hazel eyes were full of concern and affection for her. It cracked the dam inside her, and her words spilled out, jumbled and raw.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that— I didn’t think she would—” Her eyes were round, her expression pleading him to understand that she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t wanted to reveal their secret to Elain. She hadn’t planned to ruin everything.

“It’s okay,” Cassian said.

Only, it wasn’t. He had no idea what she’d done. How she had made him swear not to tell his family, despite knowing how hard it would be for him, only to mess it all up. He’d surely hate her and rightfully so.

“Nesta, I need you to take a deep breath, okay?”

She felt the weight of Cassian’s hand on her shoulder, grounding her. Following his lead, she took a deep breath in, then out. And another. And another.

The room felt larger, as if the walls that had previously been closing in around her had decided to let go.

“Now,” Cassian said, his voice quiet but serious, “can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m sorry,” Nesta whispered. “I didn’t mean to—”

She blinked a few times and cleared her throat before summarizing the encounter with Elain.

“She left before I could tell her not to tell the others,” she finished.

Cassian listened intently, his face impassive throughout her tale. She had no idea what he was thinking, and if her mother and grandmother hadn’t drilled her manners into her since she learned to walk, she would have been picking at her sleeves anxiously.

“Everyone’s going to know now,” she continued, voicing her worries. “And you didn’t even get to tell them. I mean, they might not know that it’s- that we have a child together but, still. I know they’re your family and I didn’t let you tell them before, even though you wanted to. And now I messed it all up, and ruined everything and they’re going to hate me even more and I took this away from you, too, even though it’s so important to you.” Her breathing quickened and her speech became increasingly fragmented as her thoughts raced ahead of her. “It was supposed to be— They were supposed to know when we were both ready and you could— You would have— I mean, they would have loved Adira even though I’m her— I just. I’m so sorry. I honestly didn’t mean to ruin this for you or for her, and—”

“Nes, listen to me. You didn’t ruin anything. Okay?” His tone was firm, and his eyes had turned into pools of resolute emotion.

She dropped her gaze to the floor. She couldn’t lie to him and just nod along. She had ruined it: this precious peace, this happiness, this life they’d started building together was going to get wrecked because of her carelessness.

The gentle caress of rough fingertips against her jawline pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts and made her glance up.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Nesta,” he repeated. His words were calm and confident, as though he truly believed them and needed her to believe too. “I know that this isn’t what we’d planned. I wish this decision hadn’t been taken from us and that we’d been able to talk about it and make a choice that would work best for us, but it’s not your fault. Okay? I know you didn’t want any of this. Sometimes, things just happen. Honestly, it’s only through luck that we’ve been able to avoid this happening so far.”

“I suppose,” she mumbled in reply, her thoughts and emotions still turbulent.

“I need you to understand that you didn’t take anything away from me, and you didn’t make me do anything.”

She frowned. “But I—”

“No,” he interrupted. “You asked, yes, but I chose this. I chose this because that was what was best for Adira and for us — for our family. I suppose we have to decide now how to deal with them knowing at least part of the situation, but no matter what we decide, how they react is up to them.” His jaw tightened slightly. “I really do hope they love Adira, but I need you to know that I’m not going to let them act like her being your daughter is a drawback. I mean, they aren’t going to love her ‘even though’ you’re her mother. They’re going to love that part of her along with everything else. The Inner Circle may have been my family in a lot of ways, but I’m not going to let them treat either of you with any less respect than you deserve.”

His thumb moved infinitesimally, grasping her face slightly more firmly. “And you deserve the world,” Cassian said. “I’m not going to let them insult you, and I’m definitely not going to let them try to teach our daughter to dislike you. If they can’t love every part of Adira, if they can’t respect you, if they can’t love our family and treat us the way they should, then they aren’t going to get to be a part of our lives.”

“But Cass, what if they don’t like— because, I mean, they might think that I—”

He tilted his face down, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I don’t care,” he whispered. “It doesn’t matter why. You come first. We come first.”

She couldn’t look away from the intensity in his expression.

“You should tell them,” she answered, her voice mirroring his in volume and tone. “If they bring her up, or if they seem to know about her, you can tell them that she’s yours.”

“Are you sure?” The twin sparks of genuine concern and joy in his eyes made her heart clench.

“If you want to, you can,” she answered. She savored the smile that spread across his face through the upturn of his lips, the crinkled corners of his eyes, and the movement of his cheeks.

“Okay.” His free hand came up to brush her hair back. “I was thinking that we could invite them to talk about everything, if you’re okay with that? We don’t need to talk to everyone at the same time. Maybe we could just start with your sisters?”

Nesta swallowed, trying her best not to get lost in his eyes. “Yes,” she replied, her voice a touch too breathless. “We can talk to them about it sometime. Let’s just tell all of them and get it over with.”

“Yeah?” Cassian seemed to search her face to ensure that she was truly comfortable with it.

She felt herself melt even more at the raw, caring expression he wore. He wore his emotions openly for her to see — a feat that wasn’t as easy for him as others might believe. He had been trained as a warrior: rough, fearless, angry, and always battle-ready. He’d trained himself to be a bright light: always happy, carefree, funny and smiling. While the masks Nesta wore were very different, she knew just how difficult it was for him to shed them.

Showing his emotions — not his humor or joy, not his anger or strength, but his true hopes and fears and depths of his affection — left him vulnerable, and he had thus adapted to conceal them to ensure his survival. He was letting his guard down for her, purposefully breaking down centuries-old walls to let her in. This male — this complicated, intense, caring, beautiful male — made her heart overflow with a feeling she couldn’t quite name.

“Yeah,” she replied.

Then, they were kissing. She didn’t know which of them had moved or how the tiny distance between them had disappeared. All she cared about was how perfectly they fit together. It felt so right to be cradled in his arms and pressed against his lips — like a homecoming, except she hadn’t ever known that home could be this caring, this unconditional, this sweet. As she tasted him again and again, lost in the pleasure of how his lips felt against hers, her thoughts disappeared, save for one realization. The word she had been searching for earlier came to mind, enveloping her with a force she hadn’t anticipated.

Oh.

It was love.

__________

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ircnwrought · 9 months

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“I ACCIDENTALLY TOLD YOU I LOVED YOU AND NOW WE’RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT IT”

once this is all over... let's talk about this again. // @manupropria (nesta) to feyre !!

__________🏹 HER BLUE-GREY EYES MEET THOSE OF HER SISTER'S && SHE FEELS A LUMP FORM IN HER THROAT. nesta is passion, she is fire. she loves fiercely && hates entirely. loyal to a fault, a hurricane in the body of a girl. those facts had never been in question, but for years, the youngest archeron had always believed nesta's good will never extended beyond elain. it is complicated to love a sister one believes does not love you. more so when one tries to rationalize it with thoughts of how soft elain is, how likeable ( the huntress is frayed around the edges, less a lady && more a beast, she tells herself she does not necessarily blame nesta even as she craved that love )

🏹__________ THE ADMISSION HAS LEFT HER STUNNED. it takes a moment to rearrange her thoughts. their lives were forever turned upside down after their mother died, && once again after being made. they may cope in different ways, but the only constant they've had in the chaos were each other. three stars rise above the triple holy peaks. so too will three sisters shine together in its court. slowly, she takes her sister's hand && gives a small squeeze && a smile. ❛ i would like that very much. ❜

#c; feyre archeron #❛ time in a bottle ❜ ▬ ( answered. )#❛ the huntress finds her mark ❜ ▬ ( feyre archeron meme. )#manupropria #reply; nesta archeron (manupropria)#q #(( let me always cry over how complicated family and sister dynamics in particular are ))

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vidalinav · 2 years

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It's hard not to feel guilty when Rhys sees them so soft. Stubborn hypocrisy clings to him like an old and bitter friend, but guilt... guilt sits beside him patiently. It has all the time in the world.

So do Nesta and Cassian.

They move around each other like two hands of a twisted clock and Rhys looks at them once and thinks they’ll never have the time they’ve promised. Not the way they avoid each other. Not the way Nesta pretends and Cassian dreams without moving forward.

But it isn’t his to decide what moments mean more to them. He’s tried playing the Mother, fate, whatever controls stars, and he almost ruins it. Rhys almost ruins them.

They may smile at each other, but their mirth is secretive. It’s reserved as if they hide it from them all. They don’t trust them with their happiness and Rhys can’t blame them when he’s tried. At some point, he hopes Cassian will just get over her. Who cares about mates, he thinks. Who wants one when this is the consequence?

But what is the consequence of suffering? What is the consequence of grief?

Now, Rhys sees those tentative smiles Nesta reserves only for Cassian. She’ll be reading her book and Cassian will be rambling on to Mor or Azriel, and in a moment she’ll be looking at him. Her lips raise so sweetly, so gently, and her eyes brighten to blue, and Rhysand knows that Cassian has been blessed.

Rhys knows that Cassian is loved.

He groans at the thought--all those days, he kept her out. Maybe not purposefully, but in a way that didn’t encourage anyone to know her. He didn’t want to know her--to know that grief she carried, that grief wrapped up in her arms because it was too soon to let go.

Where did all this time go?

Now, Cassian brightens at the mere mention of her name. He doesn’t shutter at the prospect of conversing with sycophants because Nesta will be there. Nesta will know. Nesta will dance. Rhys even hears him call himself bastard less. It rarely comes out of his lips. It’s not a title Cassian carries, because he’s Nesta’s mate now.

He has always been Nesta’s and Nesta has always been his... and Rhys has never meant anything to either of them.

So why did he try to control stars?

The stars are in their eyes, and they peck each other sweetly when they walk into a room or leave a room or stand in a room and think no one is watching. No one is watching and yet, they mutter soft words to each other that no one can hear. Cassian sets his hand on her thigh, on her shoulder, on her cheek. Nesta entwines their fingers together and squeezes. They are softness personified and Rhys hasn’t learned a damned thing.

He spends so much time thinking of ways to rid himself of this petulant anger, the bitterness that doesn’t seem to go away, and all the while guilt waits for him patiently. Rhys is running out of time.

Nesta and Cassian would have loved each other regardless... They would have ended up together eventually. A thousand years or a thousand days mean nothing to mates who’ve waited for each other all these years. Rhys should be singing them praises.

Rhys should be offering them apologies.

But no, that bitter part of him still roars and aches and tears and it says he’s not as good as he thinks he is. Nesta is better than him. Nesta’s at least more honest with herself and she doesn’t argue her faults away.

She stares them in the face.

Rhys can’t even look himself in the mirror.

#nessian #nesta archeron #vidalinav writes mini fics

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shadowsingersmate · 3 years

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Angst azriel x reader request

i just thought, what if the one mate could feel it when the other would cheat on them? azriel cheating on y/n and she doesn't tell him that she knows, she keeps it to herself until one day she's had enough because she over hears him telling someone in the ic that he loves y/n and would never hurt her and they start to fight. she tells him the truth and she just leaves him all togehter. overtime az tries to talk to y/n but she doesn't budge they end up not getting back together and stuff if you wanna change some things thats fine

Okey I’ve been vv inactive but it’s because I’m just not okey but I LIVED THIS IDEA so here we go.

Also I have about three or four requests draft that I gave up in the middle so I’ll try to finish those as well .

I didn’t proof read so…. Yeah I hope you like it :)

The black blanket had fallen over the sky signing the arrival of the night.

You were sitting on the couch, reading a romance book that nesta had recommended you couple of days ago, it was alright you guessed. It was particularly hard to concentrate to the main characters love life as yours was already falling apart.

Azriel hadn’t been at home a lot lately. He had a lot of work and you knew, you could understand but it was all too much. You had missed his touch, his company, the endless talks that you two would have at the nights were you both couldn’t sleep.

You close the book as you sighted and went over the kitchen to make some tea, maybe that would help calm you a bit, maybe that would help to get your sleeping schedule back to normal. You had gotten used to Azriel holding you that you found it hard to sleep when he wasn’t there.

Once the tea was brewed you went into your bedroom and sat on the bed, admiring the view from the window, the stars were beautiful! You smiled as you remembered how Azriel would take you out on late night dates, just you two staring at the night sky.

It hadn’t been long before you fell asleep, the sleeping tea madja had recommended was truly doing wonders when it came to sleep diprivation.

Azriel’s scarred hands were grazing her naked body as his lips found hers. The passion was clear, both of them fighting for dominance, their sent of arousal filled the air making you gag.

“Azriel…” you choked but he didn’t listen, he didn’t even spare you a glance.

You felt his emotion, the longing, the want, the lust. You felt everything. You shook your head taking small steps back as tears escaped freely. You could hear their moans, you could see everything.

“Azriel!!!” You shouted again and closed your eyes, but when you opened them again you weren’t in the room were Azriel and the girl had been but your own shared bedroom. You were sweating, weeping.

A dream you realized but them you felt a wave of pleasure running through your body and then another. You felt longing and want but no, those weren’t your feeling they were azriels.

It wasn’t a dream it was a moment, a moment of azriels long nights working. He had lied, he was cheating on you.

You just stayed there frozen, waiting for the emotions to stop and they did, then you felt his regret and you closed the bond shut forming a thick brick wall between your and his mind.

You rushed to the bathroom, you knew Azriel was coming home, he would be there in a couple of minuite sand you weren’t ready to face him.

You cried and cried trying to remember anything you had done that led to this moment.

You couldn’t really blame him, the girl was beatiful, blonde hair and blue eyes eyes, her breasts were much fuller than yours and her curves were perfect, unlike you, you looked like a child compared to her.

It was your fault, you should have taken better care of yourself maybe then Azriel wouldn’t feel the need to seek something more mature, someone better.

You heard the door click from downstairs and hurriedly you wiped your cheeks and stalked over the bed.

“What are you doing awake love?” love? Seriously?

“Good, how was work?” You asked

You expected from him to look regretful or maybe tell you the truth, but he didn’t instead he said a quiet “fine” and went to the bathroom to get ready for the night.

Once he laid on your bed you had seriously contemplated to tell him, yo let him know that you knew what he had done but you decided that it would be bette rig you just stayed quiet.

Months had past with you being silent. Everyday he would come home and you expected him to break and reveal the truth but he didn’t.

Meanwhile you felt anger building up, you felt like you were suffocating. You no longer trusted him, you found yourself thinking thrice before you believe anything he said.

He was taking you on more dates than before and he was being at home for longer which made things harder.

You tried to better yourself by working out longer hours and eating healthier, you no longer felt comfortable with him seeing you without make up.

Azriel had realized obviously and you knew, that was something. Maybe now you could be enough for him.

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks when you were passing rhysands office when you heard the three brothers talking.

“I don’t know what’s happening to her, she barely even let me see her in the morning” Azriel exclaimed “she doesn’t even touch sugar, you all know how much she used to live sweets”

“Have you tried to talk to her?” Rhysand asked.

“Yeah, I’ve tried once or twice but she just change the conversation completely, I don’t know what going on” Azriel said worriedly “I’m trying to think of anything I may have done to hurt her but I would never do anything that would cause her the littlest bit of pain you know that right?”

You laughed out loud and the males stopped talking, after a few minutes cassian opened the door and his eyes softened at your presence.

“Y/n what are you doing here?” Azriel asked.

“I was just passing by when I heard your little speech do how much you love me and care about me” you scoffed voice dripping venom.

Azriel flinched at your words. “Love? What’s going on?” He asked perfectly calm.

“What’s going on? You must be kidding me Azriel. You really must think I’m stupid” you chuckled darkly.

“What are you saying?” Cassian interrupted.

“Oh I’m just talking about the passionate night Azriel had with a stranger not to long ago. Do you remember love?” You said mockingly.

Azriel’s eyes widened and he started shaking. “What? I-“

At this point both Cassian and rhysand had turned their attention to their brother both shocked. “Azriel is this true?” Cassian asked clearly angry.

Cassian was your best friend and his anger was clear.

“I-“ Azriel stuttered.

“You what? You went and slept with someone and I blamed myself for it. I though okey maybe Azriel wants something more someone better. So you know what I did Azriel? I tried to become better” you practically shouted “and now” you laughed “and now you’re what? You decided that you love me? You decided that you worry about me?”

“Y/n let me explain please I- you are perfect I just-“ he was panicking.

“No, you know what? You had your chance to explain, I gave you two months for you to tell me, to be honest with me and explain how I don’t want to hear it” you spit before you turned and left.

Months after the hurt was still there buried deep, the void of losing someone you loved so dearly was there but you couldn’t ignore the weight that lifted off your shoulders.

Azriel had tried to talk to you for months after that but you refused to listen, you left the inner circle but still held your relationships with the rest of the inner circl. You’d till went shopping with mor, you still spent hours taking with Cassian, you still read with amren and nesta, you still went to Rita’s with them when azriel didn’t go.

You were happy that you had succeeded in keeping your relationships, however sometimes you still had thoughts of what would happen if you decided to talk to azriel, what would happen if you’d let him explain and maybe try again fresh. But that wasn’t possible, he had lost your trust, even if you wanted you could never trust him, you would never be like you were before.

Sometimes you liked to look forward to the future and see what would happen if you and Azriel made up and become friends, maybe you could rejoin the inner circle but he was your mate.

You sighted, he was your mate and he had hurt u deeply and just like that the pain blossomed again before you pushed everything down and wore the blank expression again as you realized that nothing would be the same again, you would never find happiness again.

#a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #acotar #azriel #shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst #azriel acosf #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #sjm fandom #sjm fanfic #sjmass

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lynyrdwrites · 2 years

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I couldn’t quite keep this one below 500 words... oops?

Nessian + thieves + flower shop au

It wasn’t a front. Not really.

Nesta blamed Gwyn for the whole thing. It had been them and Emerie (it was always the three of them), and Nesta had complained about how her father had, once again, screwed their family finances over.

The last time, Feyre had ended up almost destroying herself with Tamlin. This time, it looked like the same thing would happen with Elain and Graysen. And Nesta was just tired, watching her sisters ruin themselves over and over when their father would never learn.

She knew that they both blamed her, because she refused to set herself on fire for that man. But it was the only way Nesta could exert any sort of power – by refusing to help anyone, including herself. Self destructive it might be, but no more so than Feyre had been, when she’d almost married Tamlin, simply because she hadn’t seen a better option.

Rhys and put an end to it, and Nesta was thankful for that, not that she’d ever tell him that to his face.

Their relationship was one just shy of hate, and they both liked it that way.

But Feyre wasn’t the center of the story. No, it was how Gwyn was at fault for the whole thing.

The whole thing meaning using Emerie’s flower shop as a front for washing the money that Nesta and Gwyn had… liberated.

Yeah, that was the best word.

Liberated.

Where it was liberated from? That wasn’t important. Mind your own damn business.

That’s what Nesta really wanted to say to the cocky asshole leaning on storefront counter, having slid his badge across the surface towards her, as if she needed it to know who he was.

“Is this your way of trying to seem hot?” Nesta asked, picking up the badge between two fingers and letting it dangle as she sneered at it. “I know you’re a detective. I also know you like to watch the sing-a-long version of Frozen. This doesn’t impress me.”

“Ah, there’s the sharp tongue I’ve been missing. You stopped coming to the Thursday meet ups.”

“Actually, I didn’t. I just found more pleasant people to meet up with.”

“We’re in an axe throwing league!” Emerie piped up, from where she and Gwyn were eavesdropping in the back, not even pretending to give them much privacy. “Nesta is 3rd in the league. Give her another month, and she’ll be first.”

Any other man might have looked intimidated by that, but Cas just looked at Nesta as if he’d like to eat her up – possibly while she tried to use one of the axes on him. It was annoying.

It was distracting.

“Why are you here?” She demanded, because the longer he looked at her like that, the more flustered she became. And she hated being flustered around Cas. It made him think he had the upperhand.

“I’m on the Summer Thieves case” – Nesta thought it was a stupid name, but the media had never been known for their creativity in nicknames – “I thought you could maybe help.”

“You thought a florist could help you with a theft case?” Gwyn asked, coming out to twine her arm with Nesta’s and stare Cas down. Emerie joined them on Nesta’s other side, a united front that Cassian could never hope to break. “That seems desperate. Doesn’t it seem desperate?”

“It does,” Nesta agreed, not looking away from Cas, because he hadn’t looked away from her.

“Really Nes?” he asked, his voice a mix of a whine and a cajole that shouldn’t be nearly as charming as it was. “Couldn’t you make this easy on me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cassian. But we both know I’ve never been easy.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh, and then reached out, tapping the tip of her nose with his finger.

“True. Then again, easy’s pretty boring anyway.” He took his badge back and stepped back from the counter, hands in his pockets as he looked around. “Nice place. You’ve made some improvements, Em. I like them.”

“Business has been good,” Emerie replied tightly, and Cassian smirked.

“I’m sure it has. You know what they say… summer is the best time for weddings. And for heists. I’ll see you around, ladies.”

He left, leaving Nesta behind to glare and plan exactly how the… Summer Thieves would be successful again, and shove his stupid nose into that success.

(And if one of the Summer Thieves stole a kiss from the lead detective at their next heist, after far too close a call… well, that was between them, wasn’t it?)

#Nessian #Nessian fic #writing exercise

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acourtofthought · 8 months

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I sometimes hate Azriel so fkn much... like I know I'm gonna love him at some point, there is no chance I wouldn't. sjm has a way with words but my god... right now... I HATE HIM SO FKN MUCH!!!

This character alone is the reason this fandom hate at least three female characters in this series: Mor, Gwyn, Elain

Mor is literally being hated for no reason. And it doesn't help the fact that she's also queer and a (SA) survivor from her abusive family. People say she's been leading Az for 5 century while idk how she could be anymore obvious about her choice on the matter. I mean if I had a little self-respect I wouldn't have chased a woman when it's clear she doesn't want to be chased and I think she did it in the best way to not hurt him and also keep things neutral and still be his friend but as we all know this man is a shadow daddy so he's the one being wronged y'know...

Gwyn being hated bc she's a barrier between two people of a non canon (I repeat NON CANON) ship and again she's a SA survivor and never been given a chance to choose for herself. She's being villainized to make some people feel better and hopeful that one day their ship will be canon and destroy the villain so they can make their way to each other (I'M HYSTERICALLY LAUGHING I CAN'T-) like if you talk about Gwyn alone to someone they would fall in love with her idk how they could put a villain arc in her story...

Elain again having no choice in becoming a high fae and the only character trait they made for her is in the circle of being a housewife for Azriel, if not that they completely forget her desire not to want to be a warrior or spy or anything that has to do with violence and make her a full spymaster (that actually doesn't make a single sense since he's so abundant to keep her safe all the time and not wanting to expose her to troves bc he thinks so little of her and not trusting her in handling these stuffs?) or the high lady of Prison... yeah she would thrive there absolutely!!! We don't know much about this character and still people make it like they do and put their ideas and fantasies in her while we've never been in her head once!!

As you can see why I hate him so much. (I know it's probably not much of his fault really but his stans and I really hate that about this fandom)

ps: I know there are other reasons to dislike Elain but honestly didn't we all hated Nesta before her book? I'm pretty sure sjm would make us love her INDIVIDUALLY and not bc her relationship with someone...

The Mor and Az situation is complicated and messy but at the end of the day, he has had 500 years to ask Mor to sit down and have a real conversation about whether she has interest in him.

Really, it's as easy as that.

It's never easy to want someone who doesn't seem to want you in return and maybe you give it some time to see if that changes. But no one gets to play the victim after 500 years of pining for someone and I'm not sure why the narrative is always "poor Az". Maybe he tried to confess his feelings after her assault but that's not an excuse for never trying again within the last 5 centuries. He's the one who wants to know so he's the one that needs to approach her, not vice versa.

And yeah, Gwyn has done nothing to warrant hatred from anyone. She doesn't have to be someone's favorite character but the agenda to turn her evil or be some cruel seductress trying to lure Az away from Elain is ridiculous. She doesn't even know Az likes Elain. She's never even MET Elain. It doesn't matter if E/riel is canon or not, if Gwyn was being flirtatious with Az, Az never felt it was inappropriate considering he didn't vocalize having feelings for someone else. Instead he raised his brows high in amusement. He didn't feel guilt over the thought of Gwyn's happiness sparking something in his chest. Why is blame being placed on Gwyn when she's completely clueless as to what Az does when he leaves the training ring?

And yes, Elain has a mate. Yes, Elain was about to kiss Az. But so what? Nesta all but declared her love for Cassian then turned around and slept with other males yet I have never seen anyone shame her for that. But Elain being ready to kiss Az when she has never made promises to Lucien makes her a terrible person? People really don't seem to grasp the fact that to the sisters, mate doesn't mean anything to them at the start of their journey's. They were HUMANS for 20 plus years. The mating bond is not sacred to them. If the mating bond is the equivalent to fae religion, then people are attacking Elain for not jumping right on board with fae religion when she was raised to believe in something else. She hasn't embraced being fae yet therefore she is not ready to deal with her mating bond. She just lost her fiance, give the girl some time to play the field before making another life long decision. And again, Lucien has never once said, "Elain, can we sit down and discuss our bond?" He keeps it surface level so she does too. Of course we know he'd like more than that but him desiring more and him actually approaching her with purpose (and not just tiptoeing around waiting for her to give him a sign) means he's being just as complacent.

AZ is the one who was raised to respect the mating bond yet he's the one who knew it was wrong to kiss Elain with Lucien in the house yet he didn't care. He's the one who is willing to burn bridges with an important ally with a female who he's never thought of beyond his sexual fantasies. He's the one who can't even admit to being completely over Mor.

The girls are so young compared to Az (Elain is 24ish and Gwyn is 28) but they are expected to behave impeccably while the 500 year old torturer gets free passes left and right. It makes no sense.

As far as your PS. I don't hate Elain at all. Sure she should have done more in the way of chores in the cabin at the start of the series but really, what has her big crime been since then? She was willing to risk her engagement for Feyre and allowed her to use their house in the human lands to meet with the queens. She's been kind to Feyre's new found family. She didn't blame Feyre for the fact that she was made. She helped Feyre by designing and maintaining her garden. She apologized in front of everyone for failing Feyre. She didn't blame Nesta for her fathers death. She wants to spend time with Feyre AND Nesta. Yes, she was disappointed to find Nesta wasn't getting better but only because Cassian told her he thought the training was helping. And no, she didn't understand what Nesta needed in order to heal but that's because Nesta refused to open up and pushed Elain away. It was easy for Nesta to sit beside Elain's bedside because all she had to do was read her book. Did Nesta EVER ask Elain for something which Elain refused to do? Did Nesta invite her out to the bar with her? Elain did reach out and Nesta, knowing it would hurt Elain and knowing that Elain was also struggling after the war and the death of their father told her to leave her alone.

I'm not going to blame Elain who is also dealing with trauma to not have the answers for Nesta's problems. It's not her job and she did make it known that she wanted to spend time with Nesta. Nesta rejected her offers and only showed up to get rent money for Feyre.

Really, it's funny to me how much hate the females of the series get. They are flawed but so are the males. They are not MORE flawed and actually, for how young they are and how recent (and major) their traumas are, I'd say they don't deserve the hatred coming their way.

#pro elain archeron #pro morrigan #pro gwyneth berdara #anti e/riel

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dreaminginvelaris · 3 years

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Didn’t Feyre herself say that growing up, she could couldn’t tell who was worse to who (in regards to her and Nesta’s relationship)? I think that was one of the reasons why I wasn’t as anti-Nesta when reading the books. I definitely didn’t like her, but we’re told that they were both horrible to each other.

here's the thing:

Feyre during that scene and when she says she was "just as bad as Nesta" is obviously showing signs of being an abused person. shes thinking "yes maybe it was my fault too, maybe I was mean and did stuff to provoke her behavior towards me" because Feyre at this point wants to just mend the bridge between her and Nesta. she wants to move forward, and instead of getting the apology she rightfully deserves she's being complacent and is willing to make herself the bad guy as well for Nesta and for herself so that they can move on, bc she knows Nesta will never admit she was at fault. so instead she tries to take half of the blame as well. its why she subconsciously thinks "yes it was my fault how she treated me bc perhaps I did the same"

this mentality you see often in victims of domestic abuse. (this is an example) women when being abused by their spouses will start to say "no it was my fault I provoked him, I shouldn't have said this or done that, I shouldn't have provoked him, we're both a fault" but we know the truth, they didn't do anything to have deserved the abuse they were given. you can also see it with Feyre and Tamlin, after Tamlin physically abuses her in the study what does Feyre start to think? "maybe I shouldn't have pushed, he has trauma, he wants to keep me safe, I should be pushing too hard" Feyre is trying to be complacent here but like I said, nothing she did deserves that outcome.

just like Feyre didn't do anything to have deserved the abuse Nesta inflicted on her, as much as Feyre tries to tell herself she deserved it. just by the interactions between Nesta and Feyre alone, you see Feyre was not the same as Nesta. Nesta insulted and Feyre either ignored it or tried to reason with Nesta. once did she ever stand up for herself, and that cant be seen as Feyre being "just as bad" as Nesta. yes, we don't know everything that happened in the cabin years, but I'm thinking of just going by acotar alone, miss Nesta immediately emotionally abuses her, and what does Feyre do? she ignores it and excuses it as "oh well Nesta always been that way, she's a fiery person" and at the table when they're eating and Nesta starts insulting Feyre again, slut-shaming her, saying she's not special, that she will be forgotten, what does Feyre do? she keeps her cool, she stays quiet. she doesn't start insulting back, she doesn't do the shit Nesta does.

that doesn't look like someone who was just as bad as Nesta. that doesn't look like someone who was just as horrible to the other person, does it?

yes this is the post where that who-shall-not-be-named bitch went off in the comments and then cried when i was “rude” to her lol, as you can see, contary to her claims, i was not actually that rude the way she was, so good for me. but even if i was, idc its my blog, no feyre slander is welcome here. i will be a bitch to you 100x harder

#acotar #acomaf #acosf #acowar #acofas #feyre archeron #high lady feyre #feyre acotar #pro feyre #anti nesta #anti nesta archeron #tamlin #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #sjm fandom

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theladyofbloodshed · 1 year

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I have read almost all of your fics and I adore how you write Nesta. I really appreciate how you have handled her character in you Neris, Nezriel, and now Jurian x Nesta (Jursta? Can’t be Nesian) fics and I’m so glad you have kept her as a center in your fics ❤️ and so since you’re someone that I feel understands Nesta’s character, what are your thoughts on Feyre? I’m curious because the word abuse is often thrown around alot when it comes to Feyre and Nesta. I personally don’t give the time of day to Elain, Mor, and Rhys stans that are anti Nesta because no real case can be made but with Feyre? It is tricky. Anyways I’m humbly asking for your thoughts on Nesta and Feyre sister dynamic. Thanks so much for your content 😊

Thank you so much for the nice words. Nesta is my number one 🧡 I hope you are ready for a 10,000 word essay *cracks knuckles*

I find this so complicated.

At the beginning of Acotar, Nesta is almost comically wicked. It’s like a pantomime. Randomly sniping at Feyre at how bad she smells. But then I think, well she has been hunting in the woods so probably does? The cold outdoors has a really specific smell when somebody comes in. We know Nesta doesn’t mince her words. But it is such a randomly rude thing to say. (As somebody who is the youngest of 4, i wish saying we smelt was the worst insult slung).

I don’t doubt that they had many issues growing up. They were all in a terrible situation. I doubt any of them are innocent and didn’t argue back. It’s difficult to analyse their relationship because it’s so tangled with their other family members.

Feyre hunted due to the promise to their mother and because she had the bravery to learn. But she also had minimal time with their mother, she says she is the strangest child because she was born on the longest night of the year, and we know Feyre was left to her own devices a lot hence not being able to read and having to teach herself to swim. She was the only sister capable of learning to hunt. Feyre was neglected a lot as a child which was not Nesta’s fault, but if she saw that her eldest sister was her mother’s favourite and her middle was her father’s then yes she likely feels quite jaded.

Nesta spent the most time with wealth and their mother. She was primed to be a good little wife for the longest time. Even if she wasn’t stubborn enough to starve, there is no way Nesta would have been able to find that spirit to head off into the woods and learn to hunt. It’s so “unfeminine”. She even hates wearing pants in acosf. I just don’t see any way Nesta would have taught herself to hunt. She isn’t as daring as Feyre.

Father

The biggest neglect came from their father. He is abusive.

Nesta gets the heat for not hunting but not once is any blame put on him by the ic etc. And not just for that. Okay, he cannot walk. Physically was unable to hunt. But he was too proud to work in other ways. He was called the prince of merchants. We assume he was well educated - or at least could read. So why didn’t he teach his daughters when he could give them nothing else? Why did he not teach Feyre to read - why does Nesta get the blame for it? Why didn’t he find work that didn’t require physical exertion? He apparently had absolutely no contacts as a merchant, whose job was trading goods, who was willing to offer him help or work. Nobody was willing to help a widow with three young daughters? He had no friends or acquaintances? Feyre gets so close at one point to acknowledging his failures; I think it’s when she said that Nesta was realistic and didn’t fill their heads with talk of regaining wealth like the father.

He puts a massive strain on their relationship because Nesta is trying to spur him into action whereas Feyre is ensuring they don’t starve so he has no reason to act. Nesta is angry that Feyre is not helping her plan. Feyre is angry Nesta is not helping her.

Nesta gets blamed for things that their father could have done - teaching/providing. Feyre is the one who has told her story to the IC and obviously has not put any blame on her father when she’s told the story, further twisting her and Nesta’s relationship.

Elain

I don’t know why Elain seems like the baby by a good number of years but she does. For some reason, Nesta chose to be her protector. If you’ve ever hung out in a group of 3, it ends up being 2+1 and that’s the family dynamic we have. Poor Feyre is always the one left out. Nesta always chooses Elain. She will always choose Elain. Until acosf when Elain turns her back on her and chooses Feyre because it’s safer. For Nesta, it’s unfair and a massive betrayal because she spent so much time caring for Elain - and when she needed someone to lean on, Elain moved to Feyre. Not Feyre’s fault but I can see how Nesta would read it that way. And for Feyre she probably feels glad that she is being picked for once.

Elain was also in the cabin, also knew how to read and is only a year younger than Nesta. The fact she is never held accountable to the same level as Nesta for not hunting/teaching must really piss Nesta off. And it drives yet another wedge between Nesta and Feyre.

The IC/Rhys

Thanks to Feyre already telling her new family about her sisters, the ic meet them with prejudice. Elain is given a bit of a pass but Nesta is already the villain. Not the father. We never hear any of them criticise the father - even though they all have terrible fathers themselves and should be able to empathise with Feyre and her sisters.

When Cassian and Rhys meet Nesta, she is public enemy number one despite forcing themselves into her home (Feyre makes her host them, even says to them she’ll make Nesta contact the queens) despite it putting Nesta and Elain’s position in jeopardy. At this point, Nesta is trying to protect Elain’s relationship with Graysen. Upon meeting her for the first time, Rhys says he can never forgive Nesta. No issue with Elain or the father. Later when Feyre asks him to let it go, he still refuses to but “Elain is Elain”. It’s unfair.

Because Feyre and Nesta have such a strained relationship, it affects everybody else’s view of Nesta. They knew Feyre first and believe her. They side with her. Rhys flies so fast she vomits and he finds it funny. Nesta expresses concern over Cassian and Mor tells her to keep her forked tongue behind her teeth. Nesta is never allowed to be soft or vulnerable with them because they always have their hackles up around her - then she loses her home and humanity and gets sucked into their life where Feyre is at the centre of their universe and can do no wrong. Nesta feels even more pushed out and unwanted. It’s not Feyre’s fault but when Feyre tries to change things, Rhys won’t forgive Nesta.

To me, it was not abuse. Nesta was an angry, hurt girl who had lost her mother, her home, and her future. Her anger came out through lashing out. It wasn’t just at Feyre. She thought she was too good for the village. She looked down on them all. She was cruel to the father. She even snaps at Elain. There isn’t a power imbalance between her and Feyre when they’re mortal. Nesta wasn’t doing it to gain anything. She didn’t feel better as a result. She was just lashing out constantly. Was it nice? No. Does she massively regret it? Yes. Part of growing up is looking back and thinking “I really wasn’t the best I could have been back then”.

But their relationship isn’t all completely miserable or Feyre doing everything. Nesta shows her love through actions and in acotar she displays it in many ways:

Nesta chops wood at the start. Once Feyre asks her to and the second time she does it of her own accord.

When Elain is begging Feyre for money, Nesta reprimands her for it.

When Feyre returns from Prythian, Elain and their father host a ball and all these suitors come after Feyre for her money. At no point are they ever chastised for not really missing Feyre and seeing her as a cash cow. What happened during the ball? Nesta stayed by Feyre’s side all night protecting her from unwanted suitors.

Elain complains that Nesta has freaked out all of her friends by being miserable and withdrawn - because she knew that Feyre had been taken by Tamlin and it affected her deeply.

Nesta saw through the glamour and hired the mercenary to try and get to the wall to bring Feyre home despite being scared of the mercenary (because her and Elain were once robbed by one) and faeries.

She asks Feyre to teach her how to paint and while she does that, she wants to Feyre’s story.

Nesta encourages her to write when she returns from finding Tamlin. She sees Feyre off. Their father is counting money in his study and doesn’t even come to say goodbye but nothing is even mentioned about that.

These things are forgotten about by some feysand stans. It upsets me a lot that Feyre and Nesta’s relationship ends on a high note in acotar then the next time they meet, Feyre is surprised that Nesta won’t let her in with 3 faeries. Nesta knew she’d let her sister go back to Prythian during a time of danger then heard nothing for months. She was likely worried sick. But Feyre doesn’t care about that because she has a new family and needs to win their love. Despite the horrific months she spent UTM, she doesn’t share that with the IC - but instead tells them about Nesta.

There is now a massive power imbalance between the two sisters. Feyre is high lady, she’s wealthy and Nesta is essentially at her mercy. She has nowhere else to go. They don’t have a sisterly bond because Feyre is her provider, her employer, her land lord, her queen. Along with Rhys who doesn’t like nesta. Nesta essentially lost her home because Feyre told ianthe all about her. The ic entered their lives and rhys promised to have guards there round the clock but they still were turned fae. And then Feyre went back to spring and Nesta was left alone in an unfamiliar court with strangers trying to take care of Elain. It’s a massive change and she likely feels very angry with Feyre and hurt.

And yet again, Nesta and Feyre never have any time alone to be sisters. Feyre will always choose Rhys over spending time with anybody else. One of the best scenes for me is when the three sisters huddle together for sleep when elain is rescued. You can see how much they love each other in that scene when Nesta beats Rhys to hug Feyre and is sobbing then they all sleep cuddled up. It’s so tender and they need time to actually get to know each other when they’re not angry or starving.

I think at their core they’re quite similar. Neither has ever been loved enough. Feyre is desperate to be loved and latches onto anybody who gives her attention. Nesta doesn’t trust that anybody does genuinely love her so pushes it away rather than lets it in.

Tldr; they have a strained relationship that isn’t helped by others interfering and affecting it. Feyre and Nesta need to spend time together alone and get to know each other with other people butting out.

#anon asks

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