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#honestly I was so distracted that I didn’t even realize it was Azriel
lili-of-the-wildfire · 3 months
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okay fine, u all forced my hand in this one. these are MY azzie headcanons, mostly based on what’s canon in the books but i’m nothing if not a woman who would have been forcefully lobotomized so there’s also some delusion sprinkled in. enjoy 😙 (not proof read or correctly punctuated or even coherently arranged, we die like men on this blog)
* he may be a bit quiet in some situations, especially when meeting people who’s intentions he hasn’t quite figured out yet, but if he does nothing else, he’ll offer up a small smile in greeting. he’s not just going to sit there aloof in a corner, sans introduction.
* he’s a total vibe reader tho, his line of work has made sure of that. like he just knows when something is off about someone even if there is evidence saying otherwise. and he’s right every time, damn him.
* he tucks his hands behind his back out of habit, not necessarily shame. he used to be far more insecure, but as the centuries dragged on, he’s become less and less ashamed of what was done to him as a defenseless child.
* that’s not to say he’s fully healed and moved forward, just that time has given him some perspective and wisdom.
* (btw he loves hand massages with your lavender and lemon verbena lotion and he is not afraid to admit it)
* when he gets himself into trouble he tries to slink off into the shadows slowly, instead of disappearing all at once. nobody has a problem calling him out on it, but sometimes he honestly does get away with it.
* he has TASTE! he took one look at cassian and feyre’s gods awful decorating and didn’t even remove his outside clothes before he was fixing it.
* he and his mate’s house would look like something out of a Williams Sonoma holiday catalog.
* the two of you would put up lebron numbers on a joint pinterest account in a modern au.
* he’s quick as a whip with his dry humor and comebacks, and while cassian may be his main target, the two of them combined?? Mr. your mother and Mr. two hundred years at least TOGETHER? jesus it’s a wonder rhys came out of Illyria with the ego that he did.
* he differs from his brothers in that PDA is not his jam. he’s not getting blowjobs at the dining room table or fucking in tents while people die outside. he’s definitely not fingering you for the first time in a shabby inn, either. he’s more publicly reserved than that because he favors romance more.
* you know how rhys/feyre and cassian/nesta fucked before they were in any sort of relationship? azzie’s not doing that with someone he genuinely wants to pursue a relationship with.
* consider the following: does a man who’s spent centuries pining after the same woman come off as anything other than a romantic? no, lovely reader, not in the slightest.
* he’s got the softest heart, i just know it. while he’s kind, he has his reserved exterior, but i think once you get past that as a relationship develops, he’s so tender and thoughtful.
* his gift to nesta was so personal and thoughtful despite their superficial relationship, and he expected nothing in return. imagine what he could come up with for someone he knew on a more personal and intimate level!!
* his gifts may not be as over-the-top extravagant as Rhys would prefer, but they’re so well-planned and personal because he actually listens to you! and he watches you! and he takes the time to actually think about what would be useful and meaningful for you (Mor could NEVER, luv u tho baby)
* while he’s not overtly sexual, Azriel is a FLIRT! a shameless flirt! he doesn’t need to resort to poetry because when you exasperatedly tell him “stop trying to distract me, I’m busy!” he just arches a thick brow, looks you up and down and says “make me.”
* BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
* And your cheeks heat a bit because he’s looking at you like he knows exactly what you’d taste like and he’s starving for it and then he just laughs and you realize you’re a fly that got stuck in those honey-trap eyes again
* So you huff and roll your eyes, turning to leave the room but a hand on your wrist tugs your momentum backwards and suddenly there’s another hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking along your jawline.
* A deep hum rumbles from the back of his throat, his gaze dragging from your mouth up to your eyes, “Do that again, I like watching your eyes roll back for me.”
* ladies/theydies i am PROFUSELY sweating !!!!!!!!!
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iamqueenpotato · 1 year
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Hurts Like Hell Part Two
Azriel x Reader
A/N- I honestly don't have the words for how grateful I am for the support with my writing. ❤️ It warms my heart and I appreciate each and every one of you! Here is part two! I lied when I said this would be the final part. There will be one more! Enjoy!
⚠️: Angst
Word Count: 3.4k
Part One Final Part
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The Autumn court wasn’t an ideal place for you, but Lucien let you stay at his personal cabin, one that even his father had no idea of.
It took all of your willpower to stay out of Velaris, it was your home but yet each part of the beautiful city reminded you of the love you once had. You had written to your family, each of them knew where you were, you begged them to not say a word to Azriel. And thankfully they were more than willing to keep it a secret.
It had been a few months since you left Azriel and your home behind. And each second had been absolutely miserable, your thoughts were constantly occupied by the shadowsinger, and you knew his were occupied of you as well. The moments you faltered in keeping your walls up, you felt him. Trying to push his way to you, attempting to hear from you across that bond that still sat within you, dull and lifeless. It tore you apart. If it wasn’t for Lucien, you would have never attempted to piece yourself back together.
He is a great male and an even better friend. He stayed up with you when you had nightmares, made you tea to soothe you, and he listened. To all of it.
The pain that sat so heavy on your chest, began feeling lighter each time he didn’t let you hold it in. Even though his mate was somewhat a part of all of this, he never once judged you, never told you what to do. Never once made you feel at fault. He encouraged you to go outside and explore the beautiful lands around the cabin, he showed you how to hunt, so on the days he wasn’t present you would have enough food til he came back. Lucien gave you the space to heal but was always there when you needed someone to lean on. He was a support you never would have expected but were eternally grateful for all that he is.
But the thoughts of Azriel never went away. The wounds of your falling out were still healing, and you missed him. The times you found yourself crying was not because of what happened but because a piece of you was missing. The coldness was a feeling that you would never get used to, it ate at your soul, leaving a certain darkness within you. You did your best to distract yourself with books and other new hobbies. Though sometimes it wasn’t enough.
Lucien came back home one weekend, holding a bag of pastries you knew all too well.
“Are those what I think they are?” You spoke as you peeked over the book you had picked out from Lucien’s collection.
“They are, I was told these were your favorite. So I decided to grab some before I left Velaris.” Lucien smiled, handing the bag over to you. You grabbed it eagerly, taking a bite before offering the other one to Lucien, which he refused. “Your friends miss you.” He added.
You heard his words but your focus was on the food in front of you when the realization hit. There was only one person who knew what your favorite pastries were. “Lucien, who told you about these?” He didn’t answer, he sat down, taking off his boots, his red hair covering his eyes. You moved from your seat, standing in front of him. “Lucien.” He looked up towards you, a worried expression across his face as if you were mad at him for conversing with your mate.
“Azriel came up to me before I left, handed me that bag. I’m sorry.”
You weren’t hurt by his actions, nor were you bothered. You honestly didn’t know how to feel. “It’s okay Lucien, there’s no need to apologize.” You placed a reassuring hand upon his cheek. Giving him a shy smile. “How is he?” You didn’t know why you asked that, part of you was afraid of his answer.
Lucien stood, walking over to the kitchen to prepare a pot of tea. “If I am being honest.” He sighed. “Not good.”
Your face was still, it wasn’t the answer you were expecting, though it was better than hearing he had moved on, that he was doing better without you. But that didn’t stop the sudden sense of worry that washed over you. “What do you mean?”
Lucien gestured you to sit at the kitchen counter, you moved slowly. “Rhys told me he hasn’t really seen him since you left, he’s buried himself in jobs, hasn’t come to training, they’re all worried for him, but he won’t talk to anyone. And when they try to, he doesn’t give them the time of day.” You sucked in a sharp breath, not muttering a word. “He was forced to come to the meeting today. And Y/N, he doesn’t look well. I dont think he’s slept. Its as if all the life had been sucked out of him. The only color on him was that green pastry bag. He walked in holding it, never said a word to anyone but held on to it the entire time and when I motioned to leave he stopped me. All he said was they were your favorites and part of a weekend tradition.”
You watched as your tears dropped onto your hands that you had rested on the counter, Lucien didn't say anything as he walked around to you, pulling you close to his chest. It had been quite some time since you thought of the bakery. It was a time before things changed between you two. Each weekend you had off he would have to leave early for training, but after he would stop by your favorite bakery to grab pastries for the two of you. He would wake you up, pastries and tea in hand. It was a small thing he did that made you love him so dearly. But you couldn’t remember the last time he did something like that. Mornings lately always seemed more lonely.
Moments passed before you pulled yourself away from Lucien’s hold, wiping away the last of your tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect that to affect me so much.”
“Y/N as I told you before, don’t apologize for these things.” He brushed a loose strand of hair out of your face, before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I have a question though.” He moved to the now singing tea kettle.
“What is it?” You asked, gladly accepting the fresh tea he gave you, turning to face him once he sat on the chair next to you.
“Would you ever talk to him again? Try and fix things?”
It was a thought you had internally debated ever since you left. And the answer wasn’t an easy one. As much as you yearned to see him again, to hear him out, if he had any explanation for his actions at all. You werent even sure there was anything to fix. Still, you weren’t ready. As strong as you are, he had wedged his way into your heart, the one thing you had built so many walls around. It would take time to heal, to prepare yourself for whatever would follow. “Not yet, I have considered it but I don’t think I am ready for that conversation.”
“Well you know I don’t mind your company, but whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”
“I don’t know if I have said this enough, but thank you.” You smiled.
“You can say it more.” He joked, you playfully slapped him on the arm, then pulled him in for another hug. He gladly embraced you before pulling away to walk upstairs to his room.
The next day you woke up early, the nightmares never ceased, and it was better to not sleep at all. You found Lucien downstairs, preparing his supplies for a hunt, you always wondered why he didn’t go to the market to buy supplies, but he claimed he enjoyed the peace and quiet. “Leaving?” You asked.
Lucien apparently didn’t see you when you came down the stairs so when you spoke it startled him, causing you to let out a small laugh. “Yes, I’ll be back by lunch but I have a task for you.”
“And that is?”
“Go to the garden once the sun rises, and pick some vegetables for dinner.” Lucien handed you a list, throwing his bag across his shoulder.
“Are you sure I can handle this?” You joked, folding the piece of paper in your hand.
“I believe in you. I’ll see you in a bit.” And with that he was out the door. You had some time before the sun would rise, moving to the couch you opened your book, making yourself comfortable.
Without fault you had lost track of time, a finished book in your hand, you stood, placing it down behind you. Grabbing your coat and a small wooden basket you set off for the garden. The air was chilly but the bright sun warmed your body as you sat picking various vegetables.
You got lost in your task until something in the air shifted as if a sudden gust of wind had rushed across the land. That’s when you saw them. The shadows that moved swiftly along the dirt. Your heart began racing as you looked around for the owner. Grabbing the vegetable basket, you stood, turning towards the exit but there he was. His tall figure standing at the edge of the garden. He didn't look the same, his wings sagged behind him, his shadows encompassed him, and his hair disheveled. Azriel stared at you but did not move, and the eyes that locked onto yours were not of the man you love, but of one who had been broken for far too long.
You moved towards him, your eyes never leaving his figure. Holding your breath as you inched closer to pass him. You would not break, you wouldn’t let him see you falter. Ignoring the way his shadows around his body lept for you as you brushed past him. You felt the pain build within your chest as you felt the cool touch of them, one that was all too familiar. Once you were out of his reach you increased your pace, desperately needing to be back inside.
“Y/N.” Azriel called out, his voice cracking, it pained you to hear the agony in his voice, turning, you faced your mate. You reminded yourself to be strong, to not let him in.
“What are you doing here Azriel?” You hated how harsh your words came out, watching Azriel physically flinch at your tone as if you had just wounded him.
“I needed to see you, Y/N. My world has fallen apart without you. I don’t know who I am anymore.” He attempted to move closer to you, but with each step forward that he took, you took one back.
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to shut me out.” Your voice was calm, though your thoughts ran rapid within your mind. “Please leave.” You added.
“Y/N please, don’t push me away.”
“Don’t push you away?” Your voice was suddenly louder, the emotion filling the air around you felt like a fog, slowly blurring your vision. “I spent months trying to understand why. Wondering if maybe it was my fault you pushed me aside. I always asked myself if I was deserving of love. And maybe I’m not because I lost you. I wasn’t enough to keep myself from being forgotten.” You could feel the tears building up behind your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment.
Azriel was crying now, frantically wiping the tears away, releasing a shuddering breath as he inched closer to you. “You are deserving of love more than anyone I know, you have always had my heart.”
“Did I though?” Azriel stared at you, his empty eyes searching your face for some sort of answer. “Cause I’m starting to think that I never actually had you at all.”
You were aware of the words once they left your lips. And it hurt you to watch as your words cut Azriel like a knife, the pain that you had just inflicted could not be undone. Azriel dropped to his knees, he looked as though all the hope he once had held had been ripped from his soul, leaving him defeated and empty. Tears began falling down your cheeks, you wanted to reach for him, to apologize but your body did not move, you were stuck watching as he suffered.
You saw Lucien in the distance, praying he would come over and save you. Once you locked eyes with your friend, he looked between you and your mate, dropping whatever animal he had caught, and rushing over to your side. Lucien placed his hands on your cheeks, trying to get you to speak. He attempted to turn towards Azriel but you collapsed within his arms, begging him to take you inside. Without hesitation, he listened, but as you moved your eyes never left Azriel, the way his hazel eyes begged you to stay. To forgive him. You saw him winnow away as Lucien closed the door behind the two of you. That’s when you let your emotions free, Lucien held you close, letting you cry until you couldn’t anymore.
Lucien never asked what had occurred that day, it had been weeks since Azriel spontaneously showed up at the cabin, and the pain never lessened, you couldn’t sleep, as much as your body yearned for it, it was a far better outcome than seeing the crestfallen face of your mate every time you closed your eyes. Lucien began worrying more and more, the pieces of you that you had worked so hard to start to put back together were slowly falling apart once more. You haven't left your room, Lucien begged for you to come outside, to walk with him for a little, but all the motivation to get better had left you. Maybe it was because of the memory of your words, how they made Azriel completely fall apart in front of you, or maybe it was the guilt of it all. Either way, you would never forgive yourself for what you had said. You made it sound as though your entire relationship was a lie. And you hated yourself for it.
All the memories the two of you shared, that you created, sat so heavily on your chest in these recent weeks. From healing his wounds, to the nights you showed him recipes from your childhood, the ones that filled your heart with so much love. But then again, they all did. Yet it only made you wonder how it all fell apart. How was it that one moment you two were deeply in love and then the next moment it was all gone?
A knock at your door brought you from your thoughts, you let out a quiet acknowledgment for whoever to enter. Lucien walked in holding a bowl of food, but he was not alone. Behind him Cassian entered, he was smiling but the second he saw you the smile turned into an expression full of concern. Lucien handed you the bowl, your hands shaking as you placed it on your lap. He didn’t say a word to you, only placing a soft kiss on the top of your head, before exiting the room, leaving you and Cassian alone.
“How are you doing Y/N?” Cassian asked as he sat on the edge of your bed. You didn’t answer him, not to ignore him , but you truly didn’t know how you were doing. Your mind felt shattered, empty. Cassian moved closer to you, grabbing your hand to place it within his. “I miss you, we all do.”
“I miss you guys too.” You spoke and you hated how you sounded so broken.
“I heard about Azriel’s visit. I want to apologize.” You looked at Cassian, puzzled about what he was trying to apologize for.
“Why?” You asked.
“I shouldn’t have slipped up about who you were staying with. It came out unintentionally and I wasn’t expecting him to come here. To ambush you in such a way. I am sorry.”
You squeezed his hand in reassurance, letting him know you weren’t mad. You knew he would never purposefully hurt you. “Cas I miss him. So much it hurts. But how can I forgive him? How can I stop these constant thoughts that I was the problem. That who I am made him leave me behind. I want to forgive him but I don’t know where to begin.” You choked out. “Maybe it was all my fault.”
He leaned closer to you, squeezing your hand tighter, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “This was not your fault, do not blame yourself. There is nothing wrong with who you are. You were right to be angry, to feel these things. My brother was wrong to treat you in such a way, but I don’t believe he ever stopped loving you. Forgiving will be hard, I understand that. What happened is not something that is easily forgivable. But healing takes time. And once you’re ready, you will know. But don’t give up on yourself. Please kiddo, for me at least.”
You smiled weakly as the tears flowed freely down your cheeks, Cassian set your food aside before pulling you into an embrace. “Cassian I said something that I regret. How can I live with myself after hurting him like that?”
Cassian held you tighter, rubbing soothing circles across your back. “We all say things we don’t mean. Emotions are a wild thing, sometimes they’re good and sometimes they’re bad but that is life, and it is cruel but it is also beautiful. Y/N I know you will be okay. You are strong. You need to forgive yourself. Don’t blame yourself for things out of your control.”
You nodded against Cassian’s chest, unsure if you believed him, but the more the words replayed in your head, it slowly began to sink in. You still worried for Azriel, Lucien was right when he said he wasn’t doing good and you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you possibly made it worse. “What about Az? Have you talked to him?”
Cassian sighed. “I have not. He isn’t talking to anybody. The last time I saw him was the morning after you left, we uh-” Cassian paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “We sort of got into a fight. He wouldn't talk, and I was getting pissed that he wouldn't tell me why he treated you in such a way.” You let out a breathy laugh through the tears, those boys were always fighting, but it warmed your heart a bit to know that Cassian had defended you like that. “What happened between you two has taken a toll on him. My brother is a fool first of all. But he is a fool in love. Y/N I am not making up excuses for him, for what he did, but he loves you so much, that it's killing him. He regrets what he did. Though he hasn’t said it out loud, we all know. He isn’t the same without you.”
You could say the same for yourself, life without your mate has been difficult, each moment you wish you were back in your townhome, tucked beside him, enjoying the time you shared. It was a warmth you cherished, you could only hope you could feel that again. “I will talk to him eventually Cas. But I need some more time.”
“There is no rush when it comes to healing. You take all the time you need. And when you’re ready Y/N, we will all be anxiously awaiting your return.” Cassian stood, giving you one last hug before he disappeared through the door of your room.
Though there was so much going through your head, so much that you knew you had to work through. For the first time in months, that small part of you that truly believed things would start to be okay peeked through, reigniting that flame of hope you thought had vanished. You would push through this. For yourself. And for Azriel. No matter how long it took.
Taglist: @honestlywtfisgoingon @fanfictioniseverything
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cest-la-vieve · 2 years
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A Court of Pain and Pleasure (Ch. 9)
Summary: Evelyn grapples with a lot, her sister has turned into a shell of her former self and an... awkward run-in with Azriel leaves her even more confused
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: Chronic disability/pain, cussing, friendly fluff with rhys and mor
Notes: hello my lovelies!! i hope you're enjoying and as always i am begging you to feel free to leave any feedback - good, bad, comments, questions. i hope you enjoy this chapter!!
Next Chapter: Chapter Ten
ACOPAP Masterlist
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I’ll admit I wasn’t sure what to expect when I went to see Elain. Something about Nesta’s prickly reaction when I asked how she was stuck with me as I navigated the large house we were in.
I guess being the High Lord’s mate’s sisters had its perks, I snickered.
I continued wandering the halls, admiring various artwork that hung on the wall and the cozy nature of the house. I made it to the end of the hallway and I stopped to stare at what I had assumed was a large painting. A small gasp left my mouth as I recognized clouds floating past and realized this wasn’t a painting… it was a window. 
A large balcony wrapped around the entire house, lit by various golden lanterns. We were on the side of a mountain, judging from how high up we were, and I couldn’t help but ogle at what was situated at its base.
The house had the perfect view of the city below - the city that Rhysand had shown the mortal queens with that smoke. Velaris, I remembered. It was even more beautiful in person. I could see vague shapes moving through the streets - faeries, I realized. I was about ready to throw myself out the window just for the chance at walking through those beautiful streets, unsure if there was another way to get down there. 
“Evelyn!” I turned quickly at the shout of my name from the other end of the hallway.
“Morrigan!” I ran, actually ran, down the hallway and lept into her arms.
She laughed and spun me around before placing me back on the ground.
I realized sheepishly that we weren’t exactly friends and looked at the floor, “I’m so sorry! It’s just really nice to see a friendly face.”
She laughed and hit my arm a little. “Oh please, I could always use a hug, especially after this past month. And call me Mor, we’re family now,” she grinned, “Nice to see you got rid of those hideous Illyrian wings.” She teased.
I smiled. “Brutish, aren’t they,” I quipped back.
“In all seriousness, it’s nice to see you’re in good spirits,” she met my gaze as she spoke, and I could see the trauma swirling in them.
“It’ll take a lot more to kill me than some gangly king and his magic bathtub,” it was my turn to nudge her. “Really though, I’m okay. Just… adjusting.”
She nodded. “I can’t even begin to imagine. If you need anything at all, I’m here. I’m sure you have plenty of questions.”
“Thank you,” I said honestly. “But right now I just want to see my sister. That’s who I was looking for before I was distracted by the view.” “Of course,” she said, turning to lead me down a different hallway with several doors. Thank goodness I had asked her for directions or I would have been lost for hours trying to find the right room.
We finally stopped in front of one of the doors and I reached out my hand to grab the door handle but Mor’s hand on my wrist stopped me. I glanced at her and scrunched my face in confusion.
“Just a friendly warning,” she said quietly, “Your sister… well, both of them, have not taken as easily as you seem to have to being Fae. Especially Elain. She’s… different.”
I stared at her and blinked slowly. My thoughts wandered back to the sudden shift in Nesta when I mentioned Elain. I nodded slowly and she released my wrist. She gave me one last glance and then turned and disappeared down the long hallway.
I took a steadying breath, opened the door, then let out a sigh. Elain sat in a chair facing a window, but she was alive and unharmed.
“Elain,” I said, clearing my throat. She didn’t even turn to look at me.
“Elain?” I repeated, louder and took a step forward. Again, no response. My face contorted in worry as I walked over to her side. 
I crouched next to her, taking one of her hands off the arm of the chair and into my own. I squeezed and her eyes lazily drifted to me. Not even a sliver of recognition before she returned her gaze to the window.
My heart felt like it broke in two, but I didn’t let her see the tear that slipped down my face.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked in a hushed voice, but there was no answer. “If you think of anything, let me know and I’ll find a way to get it for you.”
I gripped her hand tightly as I stood back up. I pet one hand down her hair, mimicking the comforting gesture she would always use to calm me down. A small part of me hoped it would jog something or she would react at all.
A voice from the door startled me, “She’s been like this since we got here.” I turned to find Nesta, leaning against the doorframe. “She hasn’t eaten, she hasn’t drank, and she hasn’t spoken a word to anyone.”
I frowned. What had happened to our sweet sister in that horrible Cauldron?
Nesta beckoned me with her head and I followed her out of the room.
“There’s nothing I’ve been able to do for her,” Nesta paced the hallway as she ran her hands through her hair.
I hated seeing her like this, especially when it wasn’t just between her and I behind closed doors. I pulled her into a hug. Her body slumped against me and I could feel the exhaustion coming off of her in waves. She probably hadn’t slept much while she was worried about me and Elain. 
I registered his presence behind me at the same time Nesta did. I moved to let go of her but she hung on tight as she hissed over my shoulder, “Fuck off, Shadowsinger. This isn’t your business.”
I almost laughed. Only Nesta would tell the most deadly person we had ever encountered to fuck off. Not wanting to upset Nes further, I shot Azriel a sympathetic glance over my shoulder, Nesta still holding me against her. He just turned and slunk off to somewhere else in the house.
Focusing back on Nesta, I asked, “What about Feyre? She’s always been close to Elain… Has she tried to get her to eat something?”
Nesta stiffened and pulled away. Damn, apparently I need to stop asking her about our sisters.
“Feyre’s not here.”
“What?” I had hoped since waking up that I’d get answers to the questions I had… eventually. But so far all that’s happened is I had more questions.
“She, well... Come with me. We need to talk.”
So I did. Her room was right next to Elain’s, a door connecting the two of them. 
We both sat on her bed and she recounted everything from when I was pushed into the Cauldron up until she found out I had woken up.
It was a lot to take in. 
Between me spilling out of the Cauldron, Lucien’s declaration of being Elain’s mate, Nesta being forced into the Cauldron… She didn’t describe it to me, but she didn’t have to. I just reached out a hand and placed it on her leg. She cleared her throat and continued.
Feyre’s deal… she had broken the bond she shared with Rhys - but not the one the Spring Court and the King of Hybern believed had been broken. She was there, but she was a spy. 
Not only that, our sister had become High Lady of the Night Court. My chest swelled with pride at the thought that Feyre had come so far from that tiny cottage in the woods. She deserved all this and more.
Nesta’s story continued, detailing how Feyre had been taken to the Spring Court and we had been brought here. 
She continued, detailing everything that had happened since arriving in this house. I felt myself stiffen as she described the interest Azriel seemed to take in Elain. Nesta mentioned that she would often find him sitting with her or checking on her and I tried to quell the jealousy and anxiety that clogged up my throat.
She went on to detail how they had taken turns sitting with me, waiting for me to wake up. How she had barely slept and only left my side when Cassian had forced her to, but she would spend the remaining time sitting with Elain.
“Eve, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.” The admission caught me by surprise. “Nes, please. You had - and have - a lot going on.”
She paused to consider me. The apology was genuine and so was my response - I’m glad she continued to be there for Elain when I couldn’t.
“I hate them,” she murmured.
I sighed. “I know, Nes.”
“No, you don’t. I hate them. I hate all of them with everything in me. I’m reminded of it constantly. Every time I see my reflection, every time I sit with Elain and see that listless look in her eyes, every time I saw your unconscious body on the brink of death. I hate them.”
The fire that burned in her eyes turned my stomach to mush. I was glad I wasn’t on the receiving end.
“But we have nothing,” she continued. “I have nowhere I can take you, no one who could possibly help with Elain. So I accept I have to stay here. But I am not going to pretend to be grateful - not when they’re the ones who dragged us into this in the first place.”
I nodded. I understood - I did. But I couldn’t bring myself to feel the same way. Not when I knew what they were fighting for - their family, that beautiful city, and the entirety of the human realm. I would have done it a thousand times over for them.
I looked out the window on the wall across from us and realized how late it had gotten. The moon shone high in the sky and its light twinkled through the curtains. My stomach growled.
“Does this place have any food? I feel like I haven’t eaten for a month,” I joked.
Nesta didn’t smile but nodded. “There’s a kitchen downstairs,” she said. “I’d join you but I think… I think I’ll go sit with Elain for a bit.”
“Of course,” I said and left the room.
I found my way to the stairs and eventually saw the kitchen. I gaped at all the different cupboards, unsure of where to even begin searching for food.
“Having trouble?” For the third time today, I jumped as a voice came out of nowhere. I huffed, I really have to start working on hearing when people are around.
“Do you Fae even eat or do you just have a kitchen for decoration?” A snort of amusement left the male behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, recognizing the High Lord’s voice instantly.
“We eat,” Rhysand responded simply. “We just don’t usually cook. Sometimes Cerridwen and Nuala do, but not this late at night.”
“Then how, praytell, am I supposed to get any food?” I whirled around to face him, putting my hands on my hips and ignoring the fact that I had no idea who those names belonged to.
He just looked at me as he said, “It’s magic.”
Of course it was.
After receiving instructions on how it worked, I eventually had a bowl of soup in front of me. Surprisingly, Rhys sat across from me at the table as I ate, studying me as if I were some sort of experiment.
“Are you going to stare at me all night?” I asked, pointedly.
He just shrugged.
I waved my spoon in the air before pointing it directly at him, “So are you going to tell me how you, High Lord and mate of my dear sister Feyre, let her be taken back to that horrible Spring Court?”
He let out a heavy sigh. “You know as well as I do that you can’t control Feyre. It was the last thing I wanted her to do but I admit… it has its advantages.” “Have you, you know, talked to her?” I took the spoon that I had pointed at him and gestured to my temple with it. I wasn’t sure what to call whatever connection they had.
“She’s my High Lady,” he chuckled, “Of course, I’ve talked to her.” I looked at him pointedly, “Elaborate please, oh, dear High Lord? How fares my dear sister and High Lady in eternal Spring?” I put on a ridiculously posh accent, trying to take away from the seriousness of Feyre’s predicament.
“She’s… doing what she needs to.”
I nodded at that. I knew Feyre was stronger than anyone knew - maybe even Rhysand included.
“I appreciate you allowing me and my sisters to stay here. It’s very generous of you,” I told him as I stood from the table and my empty dishes disappeared.
“It’s the least I can do for my mate’s family,” he said.
I had already begun walking out of the dining room but turned at that, pausing at the doorway. “Not just Feyre’s family, your family too, Rhys. If you ever need to talk or anything, you’re my family now,” A beautiful smile crossed his features and I flushed a bit at the intensity of it. I meant it - I had seen and heard how much he loved Feyre and that was enough for me.
I turned back to leave the room but paused. I turned around and bounded across the room to where he was sitting. I pulled him out of his chair, surprising myself with the strength, and pulled him into a tight hug.
He stiffened before chuckling and wrapping his arms around me.
“Thank you for taking care of her. I’ve never seen her so happy,” I said to him.
He pulled away and held me by my shoulders. “Thank you for being there for her before I found her,” he said seriously, looking into my eyes the entire time.
I smiled at him and pulled away. Thank the Mother Feyre had found such a kind and loving partner.
I left after that, content with the moment Rhys and I had shared. I eventually found my way upstairs to go to the room I had woken up in, assuming that was where I was meant to stay tonight.
Despite the labyrinth-like layout of the house, I remembered the painting I had seen as soon as I had left the room. It was a beautiful rendition of the night sky similar to the one Feyre had painted on her dresser drawer all that time ago. I quickly found it and sighed in relief that I hadn’t gotten lost again.
I opened the door, not even thinking of knocking as I assumed it would be empty, which was most definitely a mistake on my part.
There, standing with just a towel wrapped around his waist stood a mostly-naked, definitely wet Azriel.
Any logical person would have immediately apologized, turned around, and shut the door behind them. I, being the idiot that I was, completely froze and could only watch the water drops make their way from his broad shoulders, down his chest, over the tattoos that covered it, and meet the towel that hung dangerously low on his waist.
I had never seen anything more beautiful. If I didn’t know better, I would have guessed that I had died and this was the afterlife. I did know better, however, and the wings that suddenly sprouted up behind me as my concentration on keeping them away slipped served as a reminder that I was, very much, alive.
I became increasingly aware of his gaze on me and how many seconds had passed without me saying anything. My brain floundered for something to say. Something funny or sarcastic or just to break whatever this strange tension was.
“You’re in my room,” I mentally slapped myself. That was the stupidest thing I have ever said in my entire life.
He chuckled and the sound made my heart feel like it was trying to escape my chest. Either because it, too, was embarrassed by me and wanted to escape or it wanted to hear that sweet sound for itself.
“I believe you’re the one in my room,” he said, moving to grab clothes from the dresser.
I tried not to ogle the way his back muscles flexed as he dug through the drawers and shook my head to clear it.
“Isn’t this the room I was in earlier?” I asked, genuinely confused.
He stood up quickly and turned around, dipping his head down a bit as a faint blush covered his cheeks. “Oh, uh,” A scarred hand reached out to rub the nape of his neck. “When I found out what happened… Well, I mean when…” He paused and looked at me.
I just furrowed my eyebrows, not sure where he was going with this.
“Once Madja helped bandage me up, you were still unconscious and there wasn’t another conjoining room with Nesta and Elain and I don’t always stay here so I figured it would be fine if they just kept you in here and…” He trailed off again.
I still couldn’t speak. Azriel had… given up his room for me? I had been sleeping in his bed for the past month? My cheeks flushed a pink that matched his blush from earlier.
“Well, where exactly am I supposed to sleep then?” I crossed my arm and quirked an eyebrow, returning to my usual demeanor.
He turned back to pick up a pair of clothes and said, “Rhys had one of the extra rooms cleaned out for you down the hall.”
My hesitation must have been obvious as I thought about getting lost in the maze of hallways again and his gaze softened a bit.
“I’ll get dressed and show you the way,” he offered. I nodded in thanks and shifted my weight from foot to foot.
“I’ll need some privacy for that,” he raised an eyebrow in amusement as I flushed even redder.
“Right, yes, of course. So sorry.” I turned to walk out the door but forgot to accommodate the wings on my back. I cussed as they bumped into the door frame. I didn’t even look at Azriel, already embarrassed far beyond belief as I rushed the rest of the way out and slammed the door behind me.
I braced an arm against the wall and put my forehead against my forearm, my wings hanging limply behind me as I still couldn’t handle their full weight. I am an idiot. I am a dumbass. I am stupid. I repeated this over and over in my head, finding it easier than actually thinking of what just happened.
What had just happened?
I was too caught up in my own head to hear when Azriel left the - his - room.
“You really shouldn’t let those drag on the ground, you know?” His voice took me out of my own head.
“Oh, right,” I tried to lift my wings up but didn’t have the strength. Instead, I tried to calm my mind and get my focus back until I was able to will them away.
“That’s… one way to do it.” I snorted and followed him as he moved down the hallway. We stopped at a door near where my sisters’ rooms were. We stood quietly for a moment before I spoke up.
“I appreciate it, you know,” I said softly.
His head tilted to the side a bit. “What?”
“Well, everything. I appreciate you letting me meet your shadows when you first visited. And then swearing your allegiance to me and my sisters. But mostly, I appreciated your comfort earlier when I woke up. I just assumed… that wasn’t something you’re necessarily accustomed to doing and it meant a lot to me…”
He stared at me and blinked as if I had just said the most outrageous thing he had ever heard.
He opened his mouth to say something but I waved my hand to cut him off as I said, “You don’t have to say anything. I get it. I just wanted to say thank you and that’s it. I, um, definitely hope to see more of you around. For now, I hope you have a good night.”
I rushed into the room and quickly shut the door. I slumped to the floor with my back resting against it and let loose a huge sigh. I pulled my knees up to my chest and put my head in my hands.
I wasn’t sure what to make of what was happening between the Shadowsinger and me. Especially not considering what Nesta had told me about his level of care for Elain and how gentle he had been with her this past month while I’ve been… asleep. 
Perhaps there wasn’t even anything to think about. He hadn’t been there when I’d woken up and despite his small comforts, he had left when Nesta showed up and telling me to get some “rest”. Maybe he was just being kind. But then… that moment when I had fallen and he held my hand… Gods, what did this all mean? 
I mean clearly he had taken an interest in Elain. Why wouldn’t he? And what did I have that would make me any better than Elain, after all? 
She was the best of us. The kindest, the purest, and now the most broken. She deserved the world and between Lucien, her mate, and Azriel, I knew at least one of them could give it to her. It was selfish of me to think otherwise.
After all, I had got everything I had ever wanted. I was in Prythian, with the opportunity to explore and learn as much as I wanted to about the world I was now in. Feyre was safe and happy and loved. I wasn’t in pain. I had the life of my dreams.
So I had to leave whatever this ridiculous pining for the Shadowsinger was behind me. I had to let him go so he would have a chance at happiness… even if it was with my sister.
I had to figure out what to do with this gift that had been given to me. I could find a way to help with this war against Hybern and take care of my sisters in the process.
I could find a way to leave behind the pain of losing this… relationship… with Azriel and figure out what in this new life could bring me the most pleasure.
---
Taglist: @mis-lil-red @ambivertedcroissants @reareaikea @biblophilefox82 @in-some-fandoms @hollyismentallyillhelp
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ncssian · 3 years
Text
A Favor: Part Twenty
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: sorry for the wait yall this month really kicked my ass,, but also we reached part 20!!
tw infertility discussion
***
Gwyn: isn’t he beautiful <3
In the freezing February air outside the tea house, Nesta clicks on the picture attached to Gwyn’s text. It’s a distant shot of a man in his mid-thirties hunched over a library desk while working, unaware that there’s a camera on him. She’ll give it to Gwyn, though—he is a little handsome.
Emerie: the stalker levels are through the roof, gwyneth. seek help.
Gwyn: no i’m gonna marry him
Nesta doesn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned, but she types out a brief response before her thumbs fall off from the cold: Will give my opinion on him later. Got to go.
Gwyn’s crush will have to wait, Nesta thinks as she finally puts her phone away and pushes her way inside the exquisite tea house. Immediately, blasting heat thaws her frozen fingers and toes, and farther inside she spots the table she reserved for three. Right now, only one person sits at it.
Nesta grits her teeth and approaches the round table, heels clicking softly on the parquet floors. Elain doesn’t look up from the menu she’s reading. “This place would be nicer to visit in the spring,” is her only acknowledgment of Nesta.
“I like the winter,” Nesta answers simply, taking her seat across from Elain. She likes how the ice creeps over the garden outside until everything looks frozen in time, and she likes how the colorful flowers and trees become dulled by white snow. Not that her sister would understand or care.
“Of course you do,” Elain mutters, setting down the menu with all the careful elegance of a debutante. “I’m only here for Feyre, anyway.”
It almost saddens Nesta that she doesn’t feel hurt or offense at the words. She thought she would care more about Elain’s opinion than she actually does. “Where is Feyre, then?” she says, looking pointedly at the empty seat between them. “I thought she was coming with you.”
“I’m right here,” a breathless voice says, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps. Feyre appears, looking flushed from exertion and the cold. She sets her bag down and joins them at the table, scooting her seat all the way in. “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”
“Nothing,” Nesta bites. “I was just about to order.”
“So was I.” Elain smiles breezily.
Feyre glances between the two of them, clear concern on her face, but she covers it up and says, “I’m so glad we’re doing this.”
It was Feyre’s idea, of course. After Nesta told her off for never being interested in what she wanted to do, Feyre actually listened. She asked if Nesta wanted to hang out, and then let Nesta fill in the rest of the details on her own terms.
Which brings them to the tea house. Unfortunately for her sisters, however, Nesta doesn’t really know where to go from ordering tea and biscuits.
“How is school going?” Feyre asks her after their drinks arrive.
Nesta sips from her tea, already bored. “It’s been fifteen minutes and you have yet to say anything of substance, Feyre. It makes me miss being alone with Elain and her mood.”
Feyre looks taken aback, and Elain levels a glare at Nesta. An unsurprised, of course you have to ruin everything like this glare.
So Nesta clarifies, “That wasn’t an attack. I just hoped that after driving out here, I would get something better than shallow small talk.”
“And how do you know it was shallow?” Elain steps in harshly. “How do you know she isn’t actually interested in how you’re doing at school?”
Nesta slides blunt blue eyes to Feyre. “If that’s the case, then I commend you. Personally, I wouldn’t give a shit if I was in your position.”
To her surprise, Feyre snorts. She looks resigned when she says, “No, you’re right. I don’t care about what’s going on at school, not if you don’t. What would you rather we talk about then, Nesta?”
Without hesitation, Nesta says, “Ask me something you really care to hear the answer to.”
Elain shuts her mouth and sits back at that. Feyre twists her lips, thinking her next words over carefully. “How is your therapy going?” she finally asks in a cautious tone. “What do you talk about there?”
Remembering that she’s in a formal setting, Nesta stops herself from crossing her arms. She settles on wrapping her fingers delicately around her teacup instead. “We talk about whatever I feel like talking about,” she answers honestly. Although lately her conversations with Lana feel more restrained than usual.
“And what’s that?” Feyre urges.
Nesta shrugs, fitting apathy onto her face like an old mask. “Recently? Childbearing.” But it isn’t her favorite topic of discussion, not at all.
“You’re pregnant?” Elain jumps in, leading Nesta to throw her an unamused look.
“No, idiot,” she says. “My therapist just has the idea that if I end up being infertile it’ll screw me up, mentally and emotionally and whatever. She thinks I should deal with that baggage now instead of saving it for later.” She rolls her eyes thinking about it. How many times does she have to repeat that she doesn’t care about her body’s reproductive abilities until Lana gets it?
Feyre chuckles, confused. “Why would you be infertile?”
Nesta forgot—she didn’t want her sisters knowing anything that has to do with her health. She even made Cassian keep her doctor visits secret from Feyre. But that was months ago, and the sisters are… not exactly in a better place now, but looking for the way there. Nesta thinks she can tell them without any severe regrets. “I have endometriosis.”
When she’s met with silence, she adds, “You know, with the tissue growing on my ovaries and stuff. It might affect all the babies I don’t care to have in the future.”
Elain is the first to speak. “You always wanted to be a mother.” Her voice is soft, almost mourning. It irritates the hell out of Nesta.
“No, I didn’t,” she snaps back.
“You did,” Elain insists. Feyre still hasn’t said anything. “You took care of our cat, Mittens, until the day she died. You taught Feyre her alphabet. You raised me when Mama and Papa were too busy to do it. You never carried dolls around in strollers or anything, but you loved being a mother.”
“I don’t remember any of this,” Feyre says, blinking. “I’m sorry, can we go back to the endometriosis part?”
Nesta sips from her tea, the bitter taste a welcome distraction from Elain’s words. “What about it?”
“How long have you known?” Feyre demands.
“It isn’t cancer. And I’m getting treated, obviously. I’m fine.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Nesta sighs, setting her cup down. “October. Cassian made me go to the doctor because he was worried about my periods, we had a big fight about health insurance, and now I use my salary from your boyfriend to afford medication so I don’t feel like dying every month. Is that everything you wanted to hear?”
Feyre only stares at her, for once revealing no emotion. “I keep forgetting,” she says finally, “that we’re not at a place to share things like that with each other. I keep being surprised every time I realize how much of your life you keep from us.”
“I don’t,” Elain huffs under her breath while she tears a croissant in half.
Nesta is still watching Feyre. “You remember how bad my cycles were? I would cry loud enough at night to wake the house.”
Feyre flinches at the memory, and Elain goes still.
“But no one ever woke up,” Nesta says. They never talked about it before, and she has no desire to keep speaking about it now. If they start to tally all the hurts they’ve dealt to each other, Nesta fears they’ll be here for hours. Worse, she fears she will lose.
She reaches for a lavender macaron and delicately pulls it apart, studying the cream filling inside. “Did you know they make these using the lavender flowers from the garden outside?”
“I hate lavender,” Elain says.
Spying her chance to shift the subject off herself, Nesta goes for it. “Because Azriel smells like lavender?” She pushes one half of the dainty cookie past her lips, chewing. “It’s an interesting cologne choice, I agree.”
“Wait, what are we talking about now?” Feyre looks around, unaware that they’ve moved onto another topic.
Elain’s innocent brown eyes turn into daggers pointed at Nesta, betrayal written across her face. Nesta feels no pity for her—especially not if they’re going to sit around judging each other for keeping secrets.
Feyre’s eyes widen and she turns to Elain. “Is it about your,” she lowers her voice and whispers, “crush?”
Nesta raises a skeptical brow. She doubts whatever Az and Elain have stops at just a crush.
“No, it’s not,” Elain answers determinedly. “God, do you have to bring men into everything, Nesta?”
“I think you’re projecting.”
“Quit it,” Feyre snaps at the both of them. “Or I’ll grab my things and leave.”
Do it, Nesta almost dares. But she has a feeling that Feyre means it, that she won’t submit to being taunted, so Nesta reins the words back from the tip of her tongue. After all, this tea is expensive.
The sisters take a moment to settle, and Feyre is the one to restart the conversation. “Either way,” she tells Nesta, “it looks like counseling is going really well for you. I’m glad.”
“Yeah, it really gives your skin a certain glow,” Elain drawls.
Nesta doesn’t rise to meet her sarcasm. In all seriousness, Elain and Feyre could probably use a therapist themselves. It might make Nesta’s interactions with them less headache-inducing.
“You should visit one day,” she throws the suggestion out without thinking.
“What, like a therapy session?” Feyre says.
Realizing the implications of her terrible idea, Nesta forces herself not to backpedal. “Yes,” she makes herself grit out. “If you’re interested, that is.”
Elain and Feyre share a glance of hesitation and concern. It’s a glance that grates on Nesta’s nerves, but she keeps her mouth shut and waits for a response.
Feyre answers first: “We’ll do it.”
Elain looks more doubtful, but seems to realize that refusing to go would paint her in a negative light. We can’t have that, can we? Nesta thinks wryly. She reaches for some macarons and starts stuffing them into her purse. “Sounds good. Great.” It is not at all great. Having her sisters in the same room as her and Lana might just be terrible enough to ruin Nesta’s next month or two.
“I’ll text you the details whenever I feel like it,” she tells Feyre and Elain as she rises out of her seat. Likely not for as long as possible.
“Where are you going?” Elain demands.
“I’m leaving.” Nesta pointedly drapes her coat over her shoulders, picking up her purse. “I have plans for the rest of the day, sorry.” Plans to get home and rate Gwyn’s work crush on a scale of one to ten. Maybe she’ll rewatch a sitcom if she has time.
“But it’s only been an hour,” Feyre protests.
Did Feyre think they would be spending the whole day together? Nesta wants to shudder at the mere idea of it, but she somehow… feels bad for her sister. “Maybe another time,” she promises vaguely. To provide some sort of reassurance, she adds, “I had fun today. Thanks for pulling this together.” The words are hollow, fake, and she’s probably a hypocrite for not being able to return the same sincerity she demanded from Feyre. But honesty isn’t going to get Nesta very far today, so this false politeness is the best she can manage.
Elain looks somewhat relieved, and Feyre looks disappointed but unsurprised. “Alright.” The girls nod at her. “Get home safe.”
She turns and leaves as soon as she’s given the green light.
A stale scent greets Nesta when she enters her apartment, reminding her that she hasn’t been around in days. In her defense, the winter months are easier to bear in Cassian’s heated cabin than in a poorly insulated basement.
Flicking the lights on, Nesta books it to the thermostat, her teeth nearly chattering out of her body. After turning the heat as high as it can go, she climbs beneath the covers of her bed without bothering to take her coat off. She doesn’t take out her phone to text the groupchat like she promised she would. She doesn’t even get her laptop to turn Netflix on. Rather, her focus is caught on the framed picture of her and Cassian sitting atop the dresser.
Everything was okay as she stepped out of the tea house. It wasn’t until she was inside her car that it came upon her: the whirlwind of emotions that had stayed so carefully hidden while she chatted with her sisters. All throughout the drive home, her mind kept returning to that one topic. Children.
Elain said that Nesta used to genuinely enjoy playing substitute mother when they were children, and she was right. But that was all fun and games, like playing teacher. What Elain left out was what happened after their actual mother died and their father went into debt, leaving all three girls in need of a parent figure. Nesta wasn’t a mother then—or at least, not a good one.
Now, she stares at the picture full of smiley cheeks and windblown hair, remembering the night that she realized she wanted to hold Cassian’s hand in hers.
She can’t imagine Cassian not wanting kids. They’ve never discussed it, but it’s so obvious to anyone who’s ever met him: he has too much love to give away to not one day end up with a whole brood of children. The thought makes Nesta’s stomach churn.
***
“Thanks again, guys.” Cassian shakes hands with his team as they file out of the conference room, all of them dressed professionally while he lingers in his hoodie. As soon as the last worker is out the door, he pulls out his phone, ready to shoot Nesta a message. She met up with her sisters alone today for the first time in a year, and he can’t wait any longer to find out if their brunch ended in a fight or not.
He clicks on his phone to find two texts from his brother, sent not too long ago.
Rhys: You’re in the office today for the monthly check-in, right?
Rhys: Don’t leave after the meeting is over. I’ll be there in an hour to introduce you to the new guy heading the Milan project.
Cassian frowns, confused. Rhys and the new guy are coming all the way up here to meet him? He didn’t know he was that important to the project.
While he waits for his unexpected guests, Cassian texts Nesta twice, and only receives a single short response saying she got home safe. Resolving to call and have a real conversation with her later, he gets up to change into the spare buttondown and pressed slacks he keeps in a locker in his office. If Rhys wants him to play the part of company boss, then he might as well look the part.
He’s adjusting the cuffs of his dark-colored shirt when the door to his office opens without warning, and Rhysand strides in followed by a stiff-looking young man.
Cassian eyes the stranger up and down first, trying to get a read on him the way he’s seen Nesta and Rhys read others. He doesn’t come up with a single thing, as usual, but he hopes he achieved his goal of looking intimidating.
“Cass,” Rhys greets him with a subdued nod, in full CEO mode. “This is our new hire, Keith O’Connell. I snagged him from right under Vanserra & Co.’s noses.” His near-violet eyes gleam with pride. “He’s going to be working out of Milan for us starting this summer.”
“Sounds good to me.” Cassian smiles lazily, and this is something he doesn’t need to fake—confidence. He reaches out to shake Keith’s hand. “Hi. I’m Cassian Madani.”
“Good to meet you.” The other man shakes back, but his grip is too tight, like he’s trying to break Cassian’s hand. Try-hard, a voice that sounds like Nesta tells him. Uses arrogance to cover up his insecurity.
Cassian takes it all into account as he pulls his hand away, seeing Keith through clearer eyes. His dark brown hair is slicked back with copious amounts of hair product, and a shrewd black gaze takes in every detail of the office. He stands like he’s attempting to seem taller than he actually is.
A typical white-collar worker looking for a way up the corporate ladder, Cassian concludes. Nothing he hasn’t seen before, but there must be a reason Rhys is so excited about him.
“Keith is starting here at your branch next week,” Rhys is saying when Cassian refocuses.
He blinks, unsure if he heard correctly. “What, all the way out here?” Away from Velaris in this modest mountain town?
“We agreed it was best if you two work together as closely as possible while preparing for the summer launch. Since you can’t come to Velaris, that means Keith comes here.”
Cassian looks at Rhys in astonishment. He thought that once he rejected the Milan position, he’d cleaned his hands of the job for good. Clearly he was wrong. “Just how involved am I going to be on this project?”
Rhys grins back at him. “You’ll lead from home base, of course.”
Cassian glares. Rhys responds with a look that says they’ll talk about this later.
Keith seems to find the idea of working alongside another person as distasteful as Cassian finds it unexpected, but he says anyway, “I can’t wait to start working together. I have a lot of ideas for the Italian outpost that I think you’ll appreciate.”
“I’m sure I will,” Cassian hums. “When do you start again?”
“Next Monday.”
“Then we should talk then.” Cassian gestures out the door. Keith looks taken aback, likely having expected more out of this meeting. But Cassian can’t meet with this guy until he gets a hold of what the fuck is going on. After shepherding Keith out of the office and shutting the door after him, he turns to Rhys with a raised brow.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Rhys warns. “Your role in this project is serious.”
“This project isn’t even part of my job description. What am I supposed to know about international business conductions?”
“You know enough to keep an eye on that O’Connell kid for me.” Rhys leans against Cassian’s desk as if it’s his own and crosses his feet. “He’s an asset to the company, but he also worked for our competitors up to a couple of months ago. I can’t trust him to manage this thing on his own, and I don’t have the time or resources right now to watch over him myself. That’s why the duty falls to you.”
“I manage security,” Cassian states, in case it wasn’t obvious. “What about Az?”
“Az has his own things to handle.” Rhys waves him off. “Just do what I tell you to, will you? Pay attention to O’Connell for the duration of the Italy venture and make sure he doesn’t steer our ship off course. You’ll get paid triple for the extra hours.”
“I don’t need triple,” Cassian grumbles, but Rhys is no longer listening. He’s typing on his phone and already heading for the door.
“Feyre and I are having dinner here before heading back home,” he calls over his shoulder. “See you later; I believe in you!” The door shuts after him, leaving Cassian alone.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replies to the empty room.
Cassian leaves not long after Rhysand does, having no excuse to linger. Outside, he’s greeted with a surprise leaning against the hood of his truck.
Nesta pushes off the hood as soon as he catches notice of her. “Long day?” she asks.
He laughs for the first time all afternoon, the sound surprised and genuine. “I was just thinking about you.”
“That’s why I’m here. I heard your thoughts.” There’s a light in her pale eyes that only burns whenever she looks at him. It’s the same light that powers her ability to make jokes and let her guard down around him in a way she can’t with most others, and Cassian is especially grateful for it today.
Nesta reaches out and takes his hand into hers. He watches the way their palms fit together in endless fascination, his brown fingers a stark contrast against her white ones. He squeezes once and looks back up at her. “How did meeting your sisters go? You never told me.”
The light flickers so briefly Cassian wonders if it’s a trick of his eyes. But then Nesta is there again, at full brightness. She squeezes his hand back. “Take me home. I’ll tell you all about it.”
***
a/n: i love writing stuff related to cassian’s job i’ll just be throwing random words in there and calling it business jargon
tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog
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gwynrielendgame · 3 years
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Gwyncien headcanon
Okay so my headcanon is that Lucien would try to be understanding about Elain and Azriel being together. The mating bond would be the only thing that would make him want to enact the blood duel but he would fight it cause he knows he isn’t owed Elain. Anyways this was the outcome of that.
Gwyn did not know why she was here. She told herself it was for Nesta, but she knew her friend would be occupied with her mate for most of the night. It was true torture to endure this night at the court of nightmares. She insisted that if she couldn't handle the court of nightmares there was no way she could handle the rest of the world. It was a test for herself. She couldn't tell if she were passing or failing though.
"Could definitely be worse." Gwyn whispered back. She tried not to stare. It only made her pathetic she told herself. Luckily though, no one was watching her too closely. No one knew that Azriel and Gwyn were mates which meant they weren't over analyzing the situation right along with Gwyn. When she had dreamt of finding a mate, she never imagined this. The way the bond could actually hurt Gwyn was almost too much to bear. No wonder mates never rejected each other. Gwyn had been so lost in her head, she hadn't noticed Lucien approaching her.
"You look beautiful tonight, Gwyn." The male gave her a shy smile before bowing. Gwyn frowned while looking down at herself. She was wearing her priestess robe with the hood pulled down to cover most of her face for once. She wasn't sure what he was playing at, but decided to play along. Anything to distract her from that wretched couple. Only then did it hit her that perhaps he was doing the same.
"Thank you. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Gwyn lifted her hood off her head and smiled at the red head. Similar in color to her own hair.
"I was hoping for a dance." He held out his hand. His smile turned more confident. He truly was handsome even with that terrible scar running down half his face.
"I don't know how to dance." Gwyn didn't want to make a fool of herself, especially when Azriel and Elain looked so graceful together.
"I'll lead. Don't worry. I won't do anything crazy." He sent her a smirk that told her he would, in fact, do something crazy.
"Okay." She found herself agreeing. Emerie sent her a wide look while nudging her. Gwyn sent a casual smile back. Lucien would never hurt Gwyn. She had over heard the story from Feyre herself. Lucien was one of few males who understood her pain.
He led her off to the floor and swept her into the ongoing waltz. He was close, closer than she had let any male before. Yet there was still a respectable distance between them for a dance. He kept his hand high on her back and she knew it would never veer from that spot. Her heart picked up out of conditioned fear. She took a deep breath to calm herself. He would not hurt her. They were slow and clumsy, but they were dancing which was surprising enough for Gwyn. She figured she would have stepped on his toes by now.
+
Azriel tried to ignore the mate bond as it tugged sharply. It didn't help that his shadows were angry about the situation as well. He kept making brief glances as his mate ineloquently danced along with the autumn lord. He knew Lucien was doing this on purpose. Azriel was unaware how the other male learned of his ties to Gwyn, but this was Lucien's payback for Elain and damn did it make Azriel feel guilty.
"What's wrong?" Elain spoke quietly. She glanced up at him through her lashes before focusing back on the dancing. She looked beautiful tonight, opting for red instead of black which he had to admit suited her much better. He hadn't told Elain that the mating bond snapped into place for Gwyn and him a little over two months ago. He didn't know how to tell her, although if anyone could understand, it was Elain.
"Just keeping surveillance." Azriel wished he had his shadows right now, so that they could keep track of Gwyn. Unfortunately, they still disappeared around Elain. He thought that had been a good thing. Now he wasn't so sure. "What is it like to watch Lucien dance with someone else?" He couldn't help but wonder if it felt the same for her as it did for him. He felt miserable yet had no right to be. Gwyn gave him an option. He just hadn't realized how insistent this bond would be.
"Uncomfortable." Elain decided after a long pause. "I don't really know him, so I should feel indifferent. But I can feel the bond tugging as though it's mad at me." He hadn't expected her to be so honest. He appreciated it anyways. Azriel did know Gwyn though. She was his friend which could be the reason the bond is much more painful than a mere uncomfort. He twirled Elain once more before she announced she was tired of dancing. They both retreated back to the dais where their friends were joking.
"It's not funny." Nesta groaned with a scowl gracing her face. Feyre, Rhys, and Mor were all laughing.
"What's not funny" Elain asked looking towards her oldest sister. Mor decided to answer when Nesta refused.
"It appears that the first man to pique the priestess's interest also happens to be the man that annoys the shit out of Nesta." Amren drawled after taking a seat. A bloom of anger rocked the bond so hard that Azriel's shadows came to life for a brief second before hiding again. The tight squeeze of Elain's hand into Azriel's let the Shadowsinger know that she felt the same way he did. It angered him to think that the first male to catch Gwyn's eye would be Lucien rather than him.
"It's not like that." Elain squashed any relationship theories right then. "Lucien wouldn't parade another female in front of me like that." While Elain's proclamation was true, it still made him frown. Perhaps Elain felt a little more than just uncomfortable seeing the pair dance. The rest of the group eyed Elain, but it was Feyre who came to Lucien’s defense.
"You refuse to talk to Lucien and are in a public relationship with our spymaster, Elain," Feyre was frowning as she spoke. "I think he can ask Gwyn, of all people, to dance with him." She finished by rolling her eyes at Elain. Azriel didn't like the insinuation Feyre made but kept it to himself all the same. The conversation quickly cut off as the group watched the pair end the dance with a bow.
+
"It sucks, doesn't it? Watching them be happy together?" Gwyn eyed Lucien. He couldn't know. Gwyn refused to tell anyone, mainly out of embarrassment. She supposed that didn't mean Azriel kept quiet though.
"I'm unsure I understand." She would play dumb for all it was worth. It made Lucien chuckle. He twirled her before pulling her back and continuing the conversation.
"I guessed you two were mates awhile ago. But you confirmed it for me tonight. You watch him like I watch Elain." He gave a sad smile before twirling her again. "I'm surprised he rejected you though. Azriel has been waiting more than 500 years for a mate."
"Not for A mate." Gwyn snapped. She couldn't control her rising anger. Not when it came to the mate bond. "He waited 500 years for the mate bond to snap in place with Mor and then Elain." She used her mind-stilling to calm herself. Lucien watched her intently with his one russet eye.
"He didn't technically reject me." Gwyn started the story she hadn't uttered to anyone before. "I knew he was still hung up on Elain though when the mate bond snapped into place. I told him I didn't want him to feel forced into this. So if he wanted to be with Elain, I wouldn't hold any resentment." Gwyn chuckled along with Lucien at that. The mate bond was not as forgiving. Gwyn hadn't realized how painful it would be to watch him with Elain when she uttered those words to him.
"The bond can be a fickle thing can't it?"
"Why didn't you challenge him to the blood fight? You had every reason to?" Gwyn couldn't stop herself from asking. She was glad he hadn't. It still didn't make sense to her though.
"Besides the fact that he would kill me and Elain would feel that pain? Would finally understand the true torture of the mating bond? Same reason you told him he could be with Elain. I don't want someone to be with me out of obligation." He twirled her once more and she was suddenly overcome with such sadness for the autumn lord. He deserved a mate that chose him. His eyes softened as they made eye contact again. Neither said a word for a solid minute.
“You are quick to underestimate yourself. Is that on purpose or do you truly believe you would lose?” Gwyn believed that at the very least, Lucien would put up one hell of a fight. He was raised by high lord Beron of all people, who was known for his cruelty. A sly smile quirked Lucien’s mouth.
“You’re the first to call me out on that.” It wasn’t technically an answer, but it told Gwyn all she needed to know. He allowed everyone to underestimate him. To believe he is only proficient in fighting. It should have made her nervous, but for some reason it had her laughing.
“I would love to see you kick Azriel’s ass.” It would be the kick to his ego that he needed quite honestly. Lucien laughed before a round of silence fell over them. Lucien was the first to break it.
"You could come with me. We call ourselves the band of exiles. It's just Jurian, Vassa, and I, but it would be better than watching their love story unfold." She was shocked by the invitation. She knew her face showed it as well. She knew she couldn't accept. At least not right now. She didn't want to leave Nesta and Emerie. She didn't want to stop her Valkarie training. The song was coming to an end and Gwyn knew that as soon as it did that this conversation would have to end with it.
"I have something I want to do." Lucien's brows furrowed in confusion, so she elaborated further. "I want revenge. But I'm not ready yet. Would this invitation still extend when I am ready?" Her voice was unsteady due to nerves. She hadn't mentioned her revenge plan to anyone before. A gleam entered Lucien's eye. He knew what she wanted and he would support her through it. The song ended causing Lucien to step away from Gwyn and bow once more.
"I'll be waiting." And then he was walking away. Gwyn floated back to the dais, to her spot by Emerie. She was so lost in her new plans, new plans that Lucien helped establish that she hadn't realized the entire inner circle staring at her. Including Elain and Azriel. Both had unreadable expression but both made her skin crawl uncomfortably. One of Azriel's shadows whipped out at her, barely grazing her wrist. It barely stung, but enough for Gwyn to know the shadows were upset with her. She frowned at them.
"What?" Redness rushed to her cheeks at the attention. She knew it wasn't good attention either.
"What was that about?" Nesta inclined her head to the dance floor. Gwyn didn't want to talk about it especially in front of the inner circle.
"He asked me to dance so I said yes." Gwyn shrugged as though it meant nothing. Truly the conversation had meant a lot to Gwyn. Finally being able to talk about it to someone lifted a weight that she hadn't known was there from her shoulders.
"Is that why you were making goo goo eyes at him?" Emerie teased while nudging her. Gwyn didn't see why this was being openly joked about. Azriel and Elain only went public with their relationship a month ago. Before then the entire inner circle was sure that this would cause war. Gwyn chanced a glance at Azriel, but his face gave nothing away. She looked to his shadows because she knew that those were much harder to control around her. Unfortunately the shadows had disappeared.
"Lucien is my friend." The words were colder than Gwyn had meant, but it turned the teasing air into awkward silence. Nesta and Emerie were searching Gwyn's face for any tells. They came up empty though. It was Rhysand to respond next.
"Sorry Gwyn. We weren't trying to imply anything." His words were kind but it only made Gwyn's face flame brighter. Of course they wouldn't imply anything like that with her. It reminded her of how they all see her. Trauma first. Person second.
She wondered if any of them, besides her two sisters, would ever look at her and see anything other than that day in Sangravah. She peeked a glance back at Lucien and saw him for what he could be. A fresh start. He knew about her experiences, but he wasn't there that day. He didn't see with his own eye what they had done to her. Perhaps Azriel's rejection was a blessing in disguise. Azriel himself had saved her that day. Maybe one look at her face and he found himself back in Sangravah, lifting her weak body into his arms. Before she could sink too far into the memories, she felt the mate bond being tugged at. Her eyes snapped to Azriel's where he was already staring softly back. It only fueled her anger though. She knew he had done it to pull her away from those memories but he had no right. He didn't get to use the mate bond unless he wanted to be with her.
"Stop looking at me like that." It was meant for Azriel, but applied to most of the group as well. Gwyn pulled her hood up and turned back to the dance floor. Her silent way of telling them to fuck off. She felt Emerie link their arms together. Nesta found herself on Gwyn's other side, grabbing her hand.
"I swear if you like Lucien I'll rip all my hair out." Nesta muttered in her ear. It had Gwyn laughing out loud. She gripped her friend's hand harder.
"I'd expect nothing less."
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nikethestatue · 3 years
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Meet Me in the Silence
Elriel Month - Day 5
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 Continuation of ‘Forbidden’
Honestly, tooth-rotting fluff, some Nyx, stabbing Cassian with fork, Azriel singing and relationship stuff
Azriel loved Nyx. He didn’t love him because Nyx was cute and pudgy, or because he was his nephew, or because he was a fun, if demanding baby, and not even because spending time with him was a private relief for Azriel. A time to let go, a time where he could spend rolling around on the carpet, helping Nyx with blocks, rattles and the construction of pillow forts, watching Nyx sneeze little whiffs of starry night.
Nyx, unbenounced to him, showed Azriel some truths that Azriel couldn’t face before. The thing with Nyx was that he was a baby and he didn’t care—he didn’t care about Azriel’s scars and his ugly hands, he didn’t care about Azriel’s cruel ways, or the services that he provided to the High Lord. Nyx didn’t care about how many people fell under Truth-Teller’s deadly edge, or what Azriel had to do on the battlefields or during the Blood Rite. Nyx didn’t judge. As an infant, he wanted the same thing from Azriel as he wanted from everyone—warmth and comfort, kindness and love. He wanted to be rocked to sleep, fed, changed and played with. He didn’t care that the bottle was held by the same hand that tortured the Night Court’s enemies, or that the man who held him to his chest did some unforgivable things in his life.
As the last nine months rolled by, Azriel had to do some re-evaluations of his life. He had time on his hand, to be sure. Instead of courting Elain, like he wanted to, he thought. There was nothing much else left for him to do.
He thought that perhaps, despite his internal denials, Elain was much like Nyx—she accepted Azriel for what he was. Scars and all. Her acceptance did not stem from naiveite, though, but love. The realization hit Azriel like a sledgehammer. He crawled towards it, slowly, but surely, rethinking every touch and every smile, recalling every smirk and sparkle of the caramel-brown eyes, all the jokes and jabs, and gentle touches and finger brushes. Recalled the worry on Elain’s face when she knew that he went on his missions—even if they weren’t particularly dangerous. The pain that was etched on her features, when he returned in a particularly foul mood, and she knew that it was because he did things that marred his soul. He remembered her casually handing him a whiskey, which he’d gulped down in one go. Or a cup of tea, with honey and lemon, just like he liked. The gooey caramel cakes that she made—they were his favourite—and they began making a frequent appearance on the dessert menu. The past nine months of their forbidden love—is that what it was?—were the time when Azriel finally felt loved. For the first time in his life. Mor never really loved him, not like he needed to be loved. His brothers—well, they were his brothers, so that was that. Elain loved him. Of that, he was now certain. Elain loved him without touching. Without kissing. Without romance. Without courtship. Without gifts or presents or flowers. Without promises. Without expectations. It’s like she couldn’t help herself, even if she tried. She needed to love him, as much as he needed to be loved by her. All her tiny gestures of comfort and care created a glittering mosaic of love and devotion, which he only now began to piece together. And it pained him that she was not free to express herself as she wanted to, because loving him came with a hefty, unreasonable price.
For her, he’d fight. For her, he’d be the person she deserved. When she began choosing him, it was the first time in his life when someone actively chose him, despite all his shortcoming. And he wanted her to continue choosing him, every day, making the decision to love him.
Azriel had a lot of time to think about it, in silence.
 Azriel was a good cook. One of his may hidden talents. He spent much of his time alone, or in places that were foreign and unfamiliar, or in the army, and necessity being the mother of invention, he had to learn how to cook. And then, he became quite good at it. He had to draw the line at baking, but he could make a steak like nobody’s business, and eggs every way were his specialty. Tonight though, he was tired and distracted. It was the first time in a very, very long time when he and Elain were alone, so he didn’t particularly want to waste it on cooking. What’s more, with Nyx being the raging little monster that he was today, Azriel wanted to put the kid to bed as soon as possible and just relax. For a meticulous planner, tonight, he had no plans at all…and it both excited and frightened him, because it would just be the two of them and they’ll have to figure it out.
“Breakfast for dinner?” he offered, while Elain set Nyx’s food in front of him. He was too quick for her and immediately jammed his whole fist into the vegetable mash, soliciting a groan from her, as he began licking his palm and fingers with gusto.
“Whatever you want to make,” she agreed, as she began wiping the mess that Nyx made, while Azriel smirked, shaking his head. He tossed two slices of ham in the skillet, and allowed it to crisp up and caramelize.
He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her hair. She smiled, momentarily lost in the sensation of closeness and comfort that he always offered her, so effortlessly too.
“You know,” warned Azriel, using his ‘stern’ voice, looking at Nyx, “for your behavior, you should be sent to an Illyrian training camp. Just so you know what’s what. There, there won’t be 10 people looking for Brute for you, or uncle Cassian swimming with you in the pool, or Elain feeding you lemon cakes, or aunt Nesta reading to you the same book over, and over, and over, and over again. No aunt Mor taking you on a pony, and no Varian building sandcastles with you, only to watch you destroy them.”
Elain, tucked against his chest, was laughing. Especially because Nyx was glaring at Aziel unhappily and suspiciously.
Then, she said, softly, almost to herself, “I am happy that he is happy. That we can give him the childhood that none of us had. Let him be a little bit spoilt, because he is so loved.”
There was longing in her tone. Longing for something that she probably desired for herself. Those conversations have never been had between the two of them. Gods, they’ve never even been together in public, let alone had conversations about the future, and a future that included children. It was never something Azriel even thought of, considering his ‘luck’ in love, and his line of work. But he heard her. So he gave her a little kiss on the cheek and returned to his cooking.
Elain was feeding Nyx the last of his food, when Azriel placed two plates on the table, and poured both of them a glass of ale.
“Beer with breakfast,” she giggled. “I like the way you think, shadowsinger.”
He laughed, loving how easy it all was. How easy the banter came, how relaxed they were together, how there were no pressures at all when it was just the two of them. Well, three.
“Alright, you’ve taken enough of everybody’s time today,” he decided, as he fished Nyx out of the highchair and went to wash his face and hands again. Elain remained seated, watching the two of them, with her chin propped on her hand.
Was it normal to be that enamoured with a man? When he did mundane things? She had to admit—Azriel was indescribably beautiful. That alone would attract anyone. The gargantuan wings, ticked tightly, but not tensely against his back didn’t hurt either. The span of his enormous shoulders, the movement of those thick muscles around the arms, over his back, which moved and bulged as he wrestled with Nyx, who was refusing to get his hands washed, were mesmerizing. She knew that she shouldn’t be so dazzled by his looks, but she couldn’t help herself. But it was more than just admiring the elegant cut of his body, the well-fitted trousers that did very nice things to his thighs and his long legs, or the enticing forearms that were exposed from his haphazardly rolled up sleeves. The tattoos, in fact, snaked lower than she anticipated. She’d never seen him undressed—Cassian, strong, beefy and powerful, and the leaner, thinner Rhysand—plenty of times. But not Azriel. He’s been annoyingly timid. All three were tattooed, but apparently, Azriel’s reached all the way to his scars. She smiled to herself, amazed and bemused. Who would’ve thought that she, Elain, would be so attracted to a winged and tattooed male? What a far cry from the ordinary, plain Greyson.
Azriel plopped Nyx down on the floor, tossed him Brute and some toys and then quickly threw a shield around them, so Nyx was contained and didn’t attempt to wander from the kitchen.
“You should’ve started,” he nodded to her untouched plate, as he sat down.
“Not without you,” she said. “Looks very good!”
“I try,” he said bashfully and they tucked into to the scrambled eggs, ham and vegetables.
“Oh, gods, it’s really good,” she almost moaned.
“Baby, it’s just eggs,” he reminded her, secretly very pleased with her reaction.
“Well, baby likes them!” she giggled, cutting into the ham. Azriel watched her, watched the movement of her hands and she asked, “What?”
He chuckled and said, sipping his ale,
“I recall when you were planning to kill Cassian with a fork.”
Her brow furrowed.
“What?”
“Oh, you don’t remember?” he was laughing softly.
“I don’t think it’s even possible to kill Cassian,” she noted.
“I’d agree. But you were ready and eager.”
“When was I planning to kill Cassian?” she demanded.
“First time we met—at dinner. I remember Nesta…well, being Nesta. And Cassian—Mother save me, the moment he had her eyes on her, he was just dripping with this hideous arousal,”
Elain almost choked, eyes wide.
“What?”
“It was horrible,” he gave an exaggerated shudder. “Rhys and I were traumatized. Those two were going at it, as usual, fighting, sniping…whatever they do, and all we could smell was him getting hotter and hotter. That dinner,” he shook his head at the memory. “It was something else.”
She was laughing, nodding.
“And you?” she asked, at last.
He gave her a long thoughtful look. A tender, loving look that made her throat bob, and suddenly she was hot…much like Cassian.
“Honestly?” he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off her.
“Yes.”
“I thought that I saw the most human and the most beautiful girl in the world. Utterly unattainable. Engaged to another man. But surprisingly unafraid of us,”
“I was very afraid of you!” she argued. Azriel smiled.
“You three were huge!” she cried. “With these enormous wings,”
He raised his brow suggestively and she smacked his arm,
“Oh, shut up,”
“I didn’t even say anything,” he shrugged, “but please, tell me more about our huge wings, and our generally superior size,”
“I am not telling you anything,” she snapped, her cheeks red, and he was delighted.
“But you do admit that you tried to kill Cassian?”
“I didn’t try to kill him. Just defend myself, if there was need,”
“Pretty sure Nesta would’ve unmanned him with her bare hands,”
“Of that, I have no doubt.”
“And me?” he pressed, “you didn’t want to stab me with a fork?”
She gave him a cool look of nonchalance and recalled,
“You suddenly turned into a poet!”
“Did I?” it was his turn to be confused.
“Something about hearing the wind song, or something,”
“I don’t even remember that,” he confessed, a slow blush spreading over his cheeks.
“I do. I guess we remember different things about that evening.” She glanced at him from under her lashes and added, “I just remember thinking that you were the most handsome man—male—I’d ever seen. I didn’t even think that people could be that beautiful,”
Azriel’s blush deepened and Elain secretly enjoyed watching him squirm a little. She was well aware of the fact that he was always uncomfortable when people mentioned his appearance. He knew that he was handsome, almost unnaturally so, but whatever horrible words and deeds he’d experienced in his childhood warped his perception of himself. At times, she wanted to assure him that no one paid much attention to his hands…she certainly didn’t. She always found his hands, the scars on them just as attractive as the rest of him. They were simply a part of him, just as his beauty was. But he struggled. She knew it.
And as she always did, when she wanted to reassure him, she took his hand and brought it to her lips. He stilled. She kissed. Kissed the inside and outside of his palm. Watched him. Watched him tense, but not pull away his hand. Kissed each long, strong finger. Kissed the rough skin. Kissed the pain and the doubt. Not away, but at least temporarily.
Bored and tired, Nyx fell asleep on the floor, sprawled on the rug, clutching Brute.
“We have to take him upstairs,” muttered Elain, releasing Azriel’s hand.
She didn’t know how to deal with the intimacy of their relationship. Her feelings were raw and exposed, and she was painfully aware of her own inexperience. She didn’t know how to be seductive. Had no idea how to play games—wasn’t really looking to learn either. But she wasn’t dazzling or mysterious, and had no inkling of what Azriel expected, of what he wanted. He was so unbearably difficult to read, while she was stupidly, obviously in love with him. She was the Cassian to his Nesta. She was the one dripping with arousal, unable to stifle her need, or dampen her desire. He probably saw her as the fool that she was.
Frustrated, she made to get up from the table, but he caught her wrist and clasped it gently, as always reigning in his terrifying strength.
“Come here,” he murmured and pulled her to him, until she settled on his lap, feeling both awkward and happy. “Lainey,”
“I like baby,” she blurted.
He nodded, and said, “Baby, you don’t need to pretend with me…I…” he swallowed, thinking how to continue. “You might be surprised, but it’s new for me as well. I’ve had,” ugh, he really didn’t want to discuss his past lovers with her, not right now. “I am not inexperienced,” he said diplomatically. No, he wasn’t. “But this,” and he waved his hand between them, “this is new for me as well. I’ve never felt this much…for anyone. Ever,”
“What becomes of us, Az?” she asked softly.
“Whatever you want,” he stated simply.
“But,”
He shrugged, “there will always be obstacles,”
“Rhysand is more than just an ‘obstacle,’” she reminded him.
“Rhysand, frankly, can go and fuck himself,” Azriel said flatly.
The new, Fae Elain wasn’t scandalized by the coarse language. The three brothers, Nesta and Mor cursed like sailors, and Elain found herself throwing an occasional ‘shit’ and ‘dick’ in her speech. So it made her smile when the usually controlled, polite Azriel unleashed his mouth.
“He is your High Lord,” she reminded him.
“He is technically everyone’s High Lord, but it doesn’t mean that he gets free reign on doing whatever he wants. If I am not asking him to give up Feyre—remember how he snuck her out from Tamlin’s clutches—then he doesn’t get to tell us what we ought to do.”
The thing that he’s been carrying in his pocket was burning through him, a constant reminder. He shifted and then looked straight at her and tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. For someone who didn’t crave or enjoy touch, the desire to touch her was constant. He didn’t even need anything sexual at this point, but feeling her skin against him, in whatever way, was beyond satisfying.
“Did you promise him anything?” she inquired, moving even closer to him, loving the heavy warmth of his arms around her.
“Absolutely not!” he spat. “He is completely overstepping, and I’ve been humouring him up until now, but it seems to be that he is a little too comfortable with the status quo,” he looked at her, his voice grave, “I hope you didn’t promise him anything either?”
She shook her head,
“No. I didn’t say anything.”
A whoosh of breath escaped him. “Thank the Cauldron.”
Elain stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers and said, sharply this time, “Everything’s been taken away from me once already. I wasn’t prepared to give you up. You are the only thing that I want, and Rhysand wasn’t going to take that away from me. From us…” she glanced at him, “if you feel the same…”
“Do you need to ask?”
She smiled.
Azriel exhaled deeply and then cupped her face between his hands. He was going to do it. He needed to do it. She devoured his gaze, the look of intent in his forest-green golden eyes, the determined set of his jaw. He left her, once, waiting…Waiting for him to take the next step, waiting for him to act and he didn’t. Not today.
“Elain,” he swallowed audibly, and she felt that he was nervous. “Will you permit me to court you?”
Azriel wanted to do this properly. Elain deserved it—deserved to be treated with kindness and respect, but he deserved it as well—he wanted to do what so many others took for granted. It never came naturally to him, the normal things, and for once, despite everything, he was going to make this one thing happen.
Nyx moved on the floor, woke up and let out a scream. Confused, he looked around and began babbling tearfully ‘ma, ma, ma’.
Elain slipped off his lap and gently cooed “Shhhh, come…come, my sweet boy,” and picked him up. Azriel watched them, not even upset at the interruption.
Nyx was crying in earnest now, and not even Brute was enough to console him.
“I am going to try to put him to bed,” she whispered, rocking the baby against her chest.
Azriel opened his arms and said, “hand him over.”
“But,”
He carefully took Nyx from her and the move did not result in silence or calm, and Nyx cried just as sadly, looking for his mom. As Azriel made his way down the hall and towards the stairway, with Elain trailing him, he began to sing. In a language that Elain did not know, but understood innately to be Illyrian. The way the sounds rolled off Azriel’s tongue was natural, the melody lulling and sweet. His voice was soothing and pleasant, with a gravelly note that came from the back of his throat. Nyx stilled, blinking at him. As they slowly went up the stairs, Azriel rocked and cuddled Nyx, stretching his wings so they covered them in a dark canopy, the words of the lullaby muffled, but just as beautiful. Elain wished that it didn’t end…There were just a words that she picked up ‘warrior’ and ‘sleep’—something she learned from Cassian, who was teaching Nesta some Illyrain phrases, now that they spent a decent amount of time in their Illyrian bungalow.
In Nyx’s nursery, Azriel put the baby down in the crib and covered him with a blanket, rocking the crib lightly, as he continued his song, quieter now, seeing that Nyx’s eyelids drooped.
Wordlessly, he lifted his arm and Elain slipped to his side, and wrapped her arm around his torso. They never needed words.
Sleep, warrior heart
Sleep and know that you are loved
Sleep, warrior heart and meet me in silence
Find dreams and peaceful slumber, my little warrior heart
 Azriel quietly translated the song, without her prompting. He knew that she’d want to know what the words meant. He, however, did not explain the history of the song and where and how he’d learned it.
“Yes.”
He looked down at her, a silent question on his face.
“The answer is ‘yes’,” she repeated. “You may court me.”
“Thank you,” was all he said.
They left the nursery and stopped in the hallway.
He put his hand on the back of her neck and stroked.
“Then I’d like for you to have this,” he said at last. He took something from his pocket and laid it in her palm. It was a key.
“We will have to meet in silence.”
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kimsnnn · 3 years
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Part 1
Disclaimer: This post is in favor of my ship, Elriel. No hate, just an opinion. This is what makes sense to me. If this isn't your cup of tea, and it came up on your feed, no worries just skip please. 
If you look at it this way:
If the series were to officially end at ACOWAR then that would mean that there would be no need to add any more books due to the majority of the plot being resolved. If there were slight questions or plot holes that were left open, we as readers can basically create our own conclusion based of where these characters and their stories were left off at. That’s the beauty of being a reader, being able to use our imagination to extend the stories based on canon information to infer or even speculate what happened to those beloved characters of ours.
If its easy to answer these questions, fill these plot holes and resolve any issues within that story, then there would be no need for any additional books, and lets say there were questions that were pressing but not complicated to answer, a simple extra book could be added to resolve that like ACOFAS. ACOFAS could’ve concluded everything. She could’ve also showed Feyre or whoever freeing Vassa and then created a whole spin off on Vassa and her adventures including the plot of her defeating her captor Koschei while also dealing with the queens and humans basically introducing us to a whole new world and continent with new fae/fae territories (like chaol introduced in his book from ToG). Her LI would most likely be Jurian because Lucien would have ended up with Elain which we know because she resolved that in ACOFAS.
BUT
That’s not at all what happened. Things were not answered/resolved during ACOFAS.
The author which in this case is SJM knew that whatever obvious inferences/speculation we the fandom would have is not the accurate ending she had for these characters. So she decided to introduce far more books into the series as standalones but, still part of the overarching plot to truly get the full scope of what she has in store for these characters. Why make additional books based on the obvious ?  She’s a writer, she knows the importance of creating mystery or writing plot twists that we either didn’t or decided not to realize or even accept. So ACOFAS and even ACOWAR wasn’t there to answer last minute questions, to show us that our favorite ships did end up together, no it was there to be used to set up future stories like SJM said and be as close as can be as opposite of obvious.
At the End of ACOWAR we have :
Nesta
-THAT Nessian moment 🥰  (& Nessian moments in general in ACOWAR)
We can infer based on where those characters were left off that :
-They would end up together eventually.  I mean come on, Cass’s line *chef’s kiss*.
BUT what people forget is that was also her breaking point (trauma) 
-We didn’t know how her trauma would affect her, her life and loved ones, & how she’d heal Or what were even her powers. These questions were built up throughout all of ACOWAR
So what did SJM do?
-She wrote the answers to those questions in ACOSF while also resolving questions about Nessian’s status especially since Nesta first had to start healing to let herself be loved.
The evidence ? The set up to gain support to find these answers ? Its in ACOFAS
-Nesta’s drinking, isolation, rage, fear, loneliness and self hate
-Nesta’s avoidance of her sisters, the IC and Cassian
-Cassian’s persistence, confusion. Feeling helpless.
Same thing can be seen for Elain
At the end of ACOWAR
Elain
-Civilness between E and L.  She seems more at peach and want to plan gardens/rebuild
We can infer
-Elain talked to Lucien so she forgave him or is on track to forgive him. From this we can assume the possibility of Elucien being endgame.
Elain also must be healed because she smiled and wants to help rebuild. So that all equals acceptance of her powers (on occasionally seeing things and that it, that’s her power), her new life and bond
BUT what we forget is the iconic Elriel moments (Hybern camp & truth teller connection), Elain’s world/future going up in flames, the consequences/trauma of having been gifted these powers
-We don’t know the full scope of her powers, why the cauldron adores her, how she feels, why were we given blooming moments between Elriel 
So again what will SJM probably do?
-Set Elriel to be endgame. Cause civility/friendship/forgiveness/CLOSURE between Elain and Lucien. Get In depth about her powers, her trauma and how it has affected the life she thought she would have. Have her come into her role in the NC and have self growth. 
The evidence? Its in ACOFAS & ACOSF
-Elain’s anger and desperation to have a choice, to have her own agency
-Elain’s avoidance, tolerance, discomfort of Lucien ( she wilts and regresses)
-Elain’s push to contribute more and firmly declare she’s a member of the NC
-Elriel’s tension & build up ( glances, smiles, blushing, gifts, humor, awareness, longing, protectiveness, attraction, actively trying to distract themselves, etc I could go on and on)
-Confirmation of Elain’s power still existing. Her whereabouts: where is Elain when the IC are facing obstacles?
-Her visions still to happen. The fourth dead trove needs to be found: it makes sense that it would be found by Elain (& Az) ( the crown: Braiylln, the harp & mask: Nesta, the fourth trove: Elain)
*If there are 3 cauldron made and Braiylln found one (& is now dead), Nesta found 2 but couldn't get a good read of the fourth, that means it'll be up to Elain & Azriel because they are basically the only two in the IC who closely work with shadows and even mist. Maybe Nuala and Cerridwen would also join in searching which id love.
Now let’s ignore the evidence.
From that moment at the end of ACOWAR again: 1) we see Elain who seems better and 2)we have Elain and Lucien who seem to be in a civil place 
So we assume she’s healed or on track, and her relationship with Lucien is looking up. So why would SJM write a whole standalone on the obvious?
If she’s healed and okay, if she and Lucien will be a sailing ship why be so secretive and unclear on Elain’s story, on who she ends up with?
Nessian was so clear, there was no REAL doubt that they would not end up together despite the obstacles between them, two of them being her rage and trauma. But Nessian would be and are endgame period. All the other “prospects” were just for angst, development and humor. Not real threats.
She wrote Nesta’s story because the worry and question wasn’t on Nessian’s validity, she established their validity and their romance when Nesta prepared to die with Cassian, when Cassian promised to find more time with her, when Nesta called for Cassian, when Nesta Wass worried for Cassian, when Nesta would constantly pay attention to him without realizing it (his wings) when Cassian ran after her during solstice, when Cassian bought her a gift etc. The worry and questions were ALWAYS on and about Nesta’s role, powers, and trauma because they were the influencing factor that affected everyone’s future, Nesta’s life/health and Nessian’s ability to finally able to come together.
If Elucien were endgame we as a fandom would know without a doubt that they are. There would be many more moments of ooh’s and hmmm’s and less mystery and confusion on their validity. There would be far more angst and these characters would have be seen more often together (seeking each other out, but Elain never does) or at least have them have more than one scene of mutual civilness where they dont talk awkwardly, and have a real conversation not one that seems forced, especially by Feyre. Even with the obstacles between them and their distance (because of the obvious elephant in the room) we should have scenes that showcases clear interest between them but we don’t. There is only one true scene where we have that and its at the end of ACOWAR, Im not blind i could see where people might interpret it as Elucien confirmation and who knows maybe I'm wrong and it is but, I read that differently. That to me was confirmation that a friendship between them is possible. Something completely platonic but just as sweet in a different way. That scene to me wasn’t charged it was not even a slow burn or even a spark it was healing and the foreshadowing of a possible friendship.
ALSO:
*Possible ToG spoiler below*
I don’t think it’s too far fetched to assume that Vassien is a thing. And in all honestly I also don’t think its too far fetched to have Lucien (& Vassa) have their own book like Chaol (& Yrene) did. Chaol was an important/original main character from the very beginning of the series who ended up doing grave mistakes. He found himself lost in life to later finding himself gaining a new purpose outlook & perspective when he left the continent to only meet his new LI Yrene freaking Towers who SERIOUSLY changed the whole game ( I freaking love her) and was extremely valuable to winning that war. This is so similar to Lucien’s story so far and Vassa (the firebird) who I expect to resemble Yrene in value and vitalness  BUT it is important to state that Lucien is nothing like Chaol and is far more SUPERIOR. So No this is not me saying Lucien is like Chaol. This is just me seeing the resemblance in their journeys so far, which might be due to SJM possibly reusing the same template on purpose.
Part 2
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rhysismydaddy · 4 years
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New Years Kiss Smut - Elriel NSFW
From an ask: Elriel smut!! If you want. They can be celebrating new years eve or something, and after y e a r n i n g for years they finally kiss and it gets ✨steamy✨
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Elain smiles at the person talking her ear off, mentally trying to calculate when it’d be socially acceptable to walk away. 
It's not that she’s uninterested in whatever the heck he’s talking about, it’s more that she didn’t want to be here at all. 
Not when he’s here. 
Which, by the way, why in the world is he here? 
He’d graduated last year, which thankfully meant she hadn’t had to face running into him on campus. Avoiding him in her personal life had been hard enough. 
The guy talking to her paused and looked at her expectantly, so she nodded and said, “Yeah,” hoping that’s an acceptable answer. 
Elain didn’t know how he expected her to concentrate on a word he was saying when one of her oldest friends was standing across the room, staring at her like he hated her. 
Or maybe like he wanted to kiss her. 
Either way, she isn’t paying attention to... Luke? and his complaints about his history professor. 
Her mind’s focused on a year ago today, when she’d somehow found herself at an upperclassmen house party as a freshman. Azriel had smiled when he’d seen her, and like always, there was just something... different about being around him. 
It was like her body was in tune with his. 
When he came in the room, she noticed. When he smiled, she found herself smiling back. 
And that night... she’d been just drunk enough to believe in New Years Eve kisses and that everyone should get one in their life. 
So when the countdown had ended and the new year had begun, Elain had gone up on her tiptoes and smacked her lips against Azriel’s. 
Which was probably the stupidest thing she’d ever done. 
Because apparently, he was perfectly content to have all this sexual tension with her and never actually act on it. His hands had gone to her shoulders, gently pushing her away, and he’d looked down at her with wide, confused eyes. 
And the absolute shock on his face had been too much to bear. 
So she’d fled. 
She’d run all the way home and had adamantly refused every single one of his calls. And since he’d graduated in December and immediately moved to the city to work, she hadn’t seen him since. 
Which was honestly kind of impressive, considering for the first eighteen years of her life, she’d spent almost every day with him. 
Their friend group was insanely close, and they’d immediately noticed that Elain stopped coming around whenever she knew Azriel would be there. So she kind of... stopped coming in general. 
She'd taken an insane amount of classes in the spring so she’d be busy enough to never leave campus, then over the summer, she’d worked two jobs. And this semester, she’d done both, taking enough courses to keep her busy and also working part time at the local bookstore. 
At first, he’d called all the time. And texted. And called some more. 
But until she could figure out how to look him in the face and not break down crying or blush from head to toe in embarassment, she was staying away. 
At least, that was the plan before he’d smacked the ball firmly back into her court by showing up on campus tonight. 
He’s currently standing by the mantle, hands shoved in his pockets, glaring at her. Or rather the boy she was standing with. 
Elain didn’t realize why until the people around them shout Ten, then start counting down. Maybe-Luke looks down at her expectantly, small smile on his parted lips. 
She knows instantly that there’s no way she can kiss him, especially not when Azriel’s twenty feet away distracting her. So she blurts, “Um, I have to go.”
And runs. 
Spotting a staircase, she bolts for it, praying she’ll make it up in time to avoid the sight of all the happy people kissing other happy people. 
By the time the crowd chants, “Three, two, one,” she’s in the dark hallway, thankfully alone. 
But then a rough, very familiar voice says, “Happy New Year.”
Fuck. 
She grabs one of the closest door handles, figuring she’ll go out the window or something. Anything would be better than having to face him. Azriel, however, does not agree with this plan. 
He smacks her hand away from the handle, wraps her in very muscley arms, and dips her so low her hair grazes the floor. 
And then he kisses her. 
Elain’s dreaming. She has to be. Because this... this is all she’s ever wanted. 
A soft nip at her lower lip tells her that no, she isn’t dreaming, but she might as well be. 
Because being kissed by Azriel... it’s everything. 
One hand supports her head, the other is on her back, and he holds her captive against him as his tongue meets hers. She isn’t exactly sure when she’d even opened her mouth, but she isn’t complaining. 
Her body’s wide awake, well aware of the strong chest pressing against hers, the stubble scraping her cheek softly. 
All too soon, he pulls back and tells her, “You, Elain Archeron, are fucking done avoiding me.” 
A shiver runs over her at the pure command, the anger in his voice. And then everything that had just happened catches up to her, and she becomes really, really confused. “But I thought-”
His hazel eyes are dark, somehow brewing both irritation and amusement. 
“You thought wrong,” he mutters back, lips meeting hers again. 
Well, that’s pretty fucking obvious at this point. 
Because he’s kissing her like he’s trying to make up for lost time. She's aware she’s doing the same to him, since the result is a clash of teeth and tongues and lips and-
He stands up, bringing her with him, and then she’s against a wall, picture frames digging into her shoulder blades. 
But she doesn’t care in the slightest, because Azriel’s hands are roaming over her in a way that makes her shiver, and his mouth is moving down her neck to kiss the top of her breasts. 
For the first time since her roommate forced it on her, she’s actually glad she’s wearing the low-cut thing. 
“You are so annoying sometimes,” he mutters, teeth scraping her neck slightly as he moves back to her mouth. 
“Okay,” she gasps, head falling back against the wall with a thud. 
Angry, beautiful hazel eyes meet hers. “I’ve wanted you for years, a feeling I didn’t know you shared, by the way. And then you kiss me, and before I can do something about it, you run.”
“I’m sorry.” Gods is that true. 
His hips press into hers, and she arches against him. “That’s 365 days we missed out on.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeats against his lips. 
“You’re about to be.”
They’re kissing again, and he somehow supports her with one arm long enough to yank the closest door open and walk them inside. 
Part of her is aware that she’s sitting on the sink in a stranger’s bathroom, but the other part’s too busy yanking his t-shirt over his head so she can explore his shoulders and abs and chest. 
The straps of her dress are pushed down, a hand in her hair forces her head back, and then his mouth closes around her nipple. Her back arches instinctively, and she almost falls off the sink, but his hands shoot out to brace her hips. 
He switches to her other breast, and she knows he’s trying to be polite, but she’s way too far gone for foreplay. 
Her legs pull his hips to hers, and she grinds against him desperately. He apparently gets the message because his hands push her dress up off her hips and slides a hand to the apex of her thighs. 
Azriel curses, then says, “I’ll buy you another pair.”
She doesn’t have to wonder what he’s talking about for long, because there’s a ripping sound, and then the tights she’d forgotten about become a torn mess at the top. 
Elain couldn’t care less as she reaches for his belt and pushes his jeans down his hips. After a brief moment, he’s pushing inside her, his body tense against hers. 
His hands are braced on her hips, hers are gripping his shoulders for dear life. She’s practically laying in the sink, back arched and head against the mirror, but he keeps her in place as he starts to thrust. 
And she realizes he was right, because she is so, so sorry she missed out on this for a year. 
His hips are hard against hers, and she moans as he picks up the pace. His lips are suddenly on hers, absorbing the sound. Which is good, because she’s not exactly being quiet. 
He isn’t either, though. He’s tugging on her earlobe with his teeth as he murmurs all sorts of filthy, wonderful things she never knew she wanted to hear. 
He’s telling her things with his body, too. 
He’s telling her how stupid she was to not realize that he wants her, that he’s desperate for her. How glad he is that she finally knows. How this is everything for him, too. 
One hand bracing the small of her back, Azriel slides the other down her stomach to the apex of her legs and starts to draw little circles that make Elain tremble. 
“Azriel, please.” She doesn’t even know what she’s begging for, but she feels like she needs it right the fuck now. 
Her nails rake down his back as he pounds against her, and he groans, biting her lip. 
She’s so close she can hardly breathe, so when he murmurs, “Come for me, Elain,” the sound of his gruff voice does it for her. 
She gasps as release barrels into her, head dropping back again as her eyes press shut and her body shakes. She can feel his eyes on her, watching, and that somehow makes it even sweeter. 
He makes a low, helpless sound as he follows, hips hips stilling against hers. 
Pulling back a little, he looks down at her and says, “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit,” she whispers back. It’s all she can think to say. 
His dark eyes track down her frame, and his lips twitch. “I fantasize about you for years, and the first time I fuck you, it’s in a stranger’s bathroom.”
Elain smiles, a giggle escaping her. He shakes his head, then lifts her off the sink and sets her on the floor gently enough to make her laugh again. 
Callouses scrap against her skin as he fixes the top of her dress. Glancing down, he bites a lip and says, “Sorry.”
“I don’t care,” she replies honestly. If he wants to rip every pair of her tights, she’ll let him. As long as she gets a repeat of what just happened. 
Luckily, her dress is long enough to cover the ruined tights, so she doesn’t have to take them off and risk freezing to death outside. 
Azriel throws on his shirt and buckles his dark jeans, then peeks outside the door. “Thank the gods there’s not a line of people out there.”
Laughing, she walks out, feeling better than she has in ages. Especially as he follows and grabs her hand. 
“Elain.” She turns to face him and raises a brow. “I really missed you. You have to promise you won’t ever do that again.” 
Nodding, she wraps her arms around him. “I promise.”
“You’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs against the top of her head. 
“Lucky me.” Leaning up to kiss him softly, she says, “I’m really sorry I ran. And avoided you. And called you an asshole a time or two behind your back.”
He laughs, and she can’t realizes how much she’s missed that sound. 
Elain pulls back and looks at him through her lashes. “How can I make it up to you?”
The grin he gives her can only be described as wolfish. “I can think of a few things.”
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Ugh I love them. Sorry this is kinda shitty, but thanks for the ask nonnie! Feel free to hit me with some more :)
@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace
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luciensfox · 3 years
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ACOSF Thoughts...
Don’t read unless you wish to be spoiled! Here are some things I can’t get out of my head after finishing the book...
Well first and foremost, I absolutely adore Nessian (as I always have but now it’s even more so) and I’m incredibly pleased with the direction it seems that SJM is leading Nesta’s character development! I’ve always wanted a badass warrior Nesta and I got way more than I figured (short of her growing wings at any time as I think some Valkyrie myths depict, this is amazing/ especially with all of the parallels people drew with her and Enalius). She’s going to make for an interesting character in the coming books and dare I say...commander Nesta. Oh, yes.
Of course I’ve always been obsessed with Lucien and nothing has changed on that front, but I’m even more intrigued now because we still need so many answers. When will it be revealed that he’s the heir of the Day Court? What’s the standings between he and Tamlin? With Vassa and Jurian? With his mother/ brothers? His mate? We literally got only two or three scenes with Luc involved so I knew nothing would be resolved in this novella, however I’m even more excited to see how Eris will play into his character arc come the next story (because you cannot convince me that SJM would put more emphasis on Eris than Lucien in this book and not intend for some brotherly angst in the future). Eris is also an anomaly and maybe it’s because I’m obsessed with the mysterious nature of whatever the hell is happening in the Autumn Court, but I really can’t wait to see what’s up with him and the rest of his family. (Also....the ballroom scene with Nest and Eris dancing to what is supposed to reflect Black Swan was one of my absolute favorite scenes.) Does Eris secretly desire peace and wants to take over Autumn not for power but to make amends and heal/ bring back glory to his home? And what exactly happened with Mor? SJM put so much emphasis on that too and we still have no idea.
I LOVE Gwyneth and Emerie. The triad of Valkyries was honestly the best part of the whole book for me. I know everyone is quick to match up characters with potential romances/ mates etc and it sounds like that’s what will happen with these two...but let’s not forget that they’re incredibly strong characters on their own terms and I hope whatever comes about their arcs isn't entirely placed on their romance status. However, they both seem to want to find someone to be with which leads me to believe that Emerie and Mor will very likely end up together (if only for the fact that we got one sentences indicating Em finds Mor gorgeous....I guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens) and that Gwyn is going to be a potential interest for Azriel. 
I love Lucien so much, but my soft fox boy needs to heal and stop forcing himself to find romantic love when all he really needs is some self love. (So perhaps that will be his final journey....Lucien finally coming to terms with his trauma, settling ties with everyone from his past, and taking up his mental as Helion’s son and the future of the Day Court.) 
Elain seemed a bit OOC...and yet not at all? We’ve only got the chance to see the “sweet/ innocent” side of her, but it makes sense that she’s going to be a super complex character (SJM wouldn't have set her up so mysteriously if the intent was to leave her as a mere gardener) and that her journey in following books will show us a side of her we’ve never encountered. The Elriel ship has always been a confusing one for me, not because I don’t ship it but because there’s so much happening all the time that it’s hard to get a proper read on clues when SJM throws characters like Gwyn at us...coupled with the fact that Lucien seems to still be in love with Elain (or at least he’s just lonely and doesn't know how else to react, never mind whatever is happening with Vassa and Jurian), and that Az seems intent on getting with Elain....but Az also seems to be the type of character who falls in love deeply without considering a number of things. He’s driven by his desires and often hurt by them, hence his love for Mor. Notice how shortly after he started drifting from his desire for Mor, he started to desire Elain? Part of me wonders if it’s because he found the person he’s meant to be with...or if he felt attracted to her and she was a distraction to his pain and a means to help him get over Mor. Like I said, I don’t know which way I lean just yet but these are all possibilities!
Then there’s the Gwynriel ship--totally didn’t see that coming but I can’t say I don’t enjoy it. I love how Gwyn teases Az in a way that many others usually don’t dare, and that she’s another character with a history outside of the IC. While there’s a lot to consider, like the fact that Az’s shadows shy away when Elain is around but “dance” and seem to be overjoyed when Gwyn is nearby, I think a truly noticeable parallel to the pairing could be this:
Azriel is no stranger to unrequited love. In fact, that seemed to be his overarching characteristic for the first two books. Now that he’s found Elain and she also reciprocates their shared desire, it would be easy to pair them together. However, Gwyn seems to be interested in Azriel and Az can’t seem to figure out his standings with her other than being enticed and not realizing what’s in front of him because he’s so determined to be with Elain since “she’s the third sister and he the third brother” etc so it must make sense somehow even though Elain is mated. But Gwyn, to that extent, is no stranger to unrequited love either. 
Just imagine: Azriel finally cracks in the following book and shows a rare display of emotions to either Gwyn or the IC (or both) and Gwyn decides to confront him about facing his fears (his past with Mor, his current standings with Elain, his desire to have someone) by claiming that she knows exactly what unrequited love feels like because every day she stares at him and feels precisely as devastated as he did/does whenever he sees Mor or Elain. Az will probably be shocked to all hell and maybe it’ll snap him out of his misery enough to think clearly on the whole matter.
The Rhysand and Nesta friendship was something else I wasn’t expecting, didn’t necessarily think I’d want, but now am excited to see bloom. They definitely do share traits and I can’t help but remember how Rhys once compared Feyre to Cassian and how Nesta and Rhys might be the opposite counterparts since they’re both haughty and respond to things with incredibly heightened emotions because they love fiercely. 
This post is much longer than I’d intended but oh well, some other things for your consideration.....
A Varian/Amren x Nessian double date.
Nesta taking on a similar military role as Cassian and either leading a female unit of Illyrians/ Valkyries or sharing the brunt of Cassian’s job (plus come on... those two training together is essentially their respective version of foreplay and I’m so here for warrior Nessian bonding).
I hope we get to see that mating ceremony scene!
Also....does anyone remember Balthazar--the Illyrian who showed up for one scene and fell asleep on Nesta’s shoulder during the Blood Rite while he helped them find shelter? There’s no way SJM would’ve written in a character like that without intending for him to show up again in the future....
Koschei the deathless? Wonder what will occur there. 
Damn, if you’ve made it this far give yourself a pat on the back. 
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acourtofcouture · 3 years
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ACOTAR & TOG Fic Rec!!!
I’ve never done one of these before so bear with me please! I also didn’t realize how much I apparently love AUs, especially modern AUs until I made this lmao. I can definitely do more but I thought I’d start small first time around. Considering doing a fic rec post for one shots and other shorter reads, if there’s anyone who’d want that!
A Court of Thorns and Roses
First Daughter- Feyre x Rhysand, 9 Chapters (20,120 words), Explicit. Modern AU! Bodyguard Rhysand is hired to protect the President’s wild daughter from herself and her shitty, abusive boyfriend Tamlin. Rhysand doesn’t want to cross any lines but there’s no denying the way he and Feyre just gravitate towards each other. Background Nesta/Cassian and Elain/Azriel. Trigger warning though, for past abuse and a little violence here and there. 
Nox Industries- Feyre x Rhysand, 33 Chapters (100,377 words), Mature. Modern AU! Feyre is the newly hired personal assistant for Rhysand, the CEO of Nox Industries. She’s freshly out of an abusive personal/work relationship with Tamlin, the CEO of a competing company. Together they work through their pasts and the day to day challenges of running Nox Industries while exploring the mutual attraction that flourishes between them. Featuring the Inner Circle, minus Elain and Nesta, as company executives!
Of Shadows and Sunshine- Elain x Azriel, 9 Chapters (11,700 words), Mature. Follows the developments between Elain and Azriel following A Court of Wings and Ruin so basically pretend that A Court fo Frost and Starlight never happens. There’s fluff, mating bond drama, angst and smut, though not necessarily in that order. 
Tender Jar- Elain x Azriel, 11 Chapters (70,540 words), Explicit. Following the end of the war, the Inner Circle is regrouping and readjusting to life at peace. Elain is strugging the most of all, with the loss of her human life, her fiancé and her newly developed powers as a seer. Azriel is her confidant and closest friend, the obvious choice companion to accompany her on a mission to save her mate, Lucien and her mortal ex-fiancé from a threat Elain sees in a vision. As they travel from Velaris to the Spring Court to Vassa’s Court and back, the developing feelings between the shadowsinger and the seer complicate things considerably. 
The Solider and the Swan- Nesta x Cassian, 10 Chapters (23,518 words), Explicit. Modern AU! Nesta is the principal dancer at a New York ballet company and Cassian is the photographer hired by the company to take the official promo photos for the upcoming production of Swan Lake. Cassian is obsessed and a little in love immediately, a bargain is made and Nesta is annoyed that he’s there, distracting her with his flirting and handsome face, but she also isn’t sure she wants him to leave. A strange dynamic develops!!! Background Feyre/Rhysand!
Quarantine- Nesta x Cassian, 13 Chapters (47,309 words), Mature. Woohoo! Modern AU! Lmao normally COVID quarantine fics can make me feel weird but this is really good! When Cassian hears from Feyre that her sister Nesta is bored and lonely just as quarantine starts, he decides to go see her, even though they aren’t friends and she openly finds him obnoxious. But oh no, he’s can’t leave and they’ll have to live together for the foreseeable future! I wonder what will happen? Will it be a forced into close quarters slow burn read with bickering and mutual pining? Duh.
Throne of Glass
Growth- Aelin x Rowan, 56 Chapters (236,371 words), Explicit. AU world where Adarlan never attacked, Terrasen never fell, and Erawan doesn’t exist. Rowan Whitethorn is sent by Maeve to train the princess in her magic for a few months every year. As Aelin grows up and her powers develop, the relationship between the two grows and develops too. Its a super slow burn but honestly it really works out in the relationship’s favor.
One Night Standards- Aelin x Rowan, 32 Chapters (126,174 words), Explicit. Modern AU! Princess Aelin of Terrasen is entered into an arranged marriage with Prince Rowan of Whitethorn, a man she’s never met, to ensure the continued survival of her country. The night before the prince is set to arrive, Aelin goes out dancing and has a one night stand with a very, very handsome stranger. But who could this man be, it couldn’t be her future husband, could it? Of course it is, because why wouldn’t it be! 10/10 would highly recommend.
The President’s Daughter- Aelin x Rowan, 11 Chapters (24,578 words), Mature. Modern AU! Aelin is the first daughter of Terrasen, who’s just trying to move forward following the sudden departure of her personal bodyguard and an assassination attempt. When threats to her life and safety seem to be closing in, her old close guard, Rowan Whitethorn, returns to the job. But why’d he leave so suddenly? Is Aelin still in love with him? Could Rowan in love with her? Can she forgive him for leaving? Boundaries get blurry, self-control is in high demand and Aelin is a force of nature. This is killer, honestly.
The Stars That Gazed Back- Aelin x Rowan, 30 Chapters (35,233 words), Teen and Up Audiences. Modern AU! Are you even surprised? Modern day setting that jumps off with Rowan joining Aelin in Rifthold in the months following the formation of their friendship during her trip to Doranelle. Just a solid, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers fic! Featuring a heavy dosage of background Aedion/Lysandra!
can you tell I have a weak spot for Aelin x Rowan reads???? Sorry there isn’t much variety. 
ACOTAR/TOG Crossover
Perhaps We Were Friends First- Feyre/Rhysand’s Son x Aelin/Rowan’s Daughter, 10 Chapters (15,405), Mature. Ashera, heir of Terrasen, and Theoden, heir of the Night Court, have been been attached at the hip since they were young as they alternate spending weekends between Velaris and Orynth. But now, aged 18 and 19, their relationship begins to shift, leaving them both wanting something more but in fear of what that something more could mean. Honestly very very very good, one of the best future generations fics I’ve ever read!
Also I’m throwing in two random Grishaverse fics no one asked for but that I think are worth your attention.
The Grishaverse
Mystery Deep In The Royal Heart- Nikolai/Alina, 16 Chapters (45,935 words), Explicit. Alina is the an orphaned princess who’s been promised in marriage to the crown prince of the country that invaded hers. In a last ditch attempt at freedom before her wedding, Alina goes on an adventure, only for her ship to be attacked by pirates on the way back home. Another ship, with a dashing and charismatic captain come to her rescue before vanishing into thin air. Little does she know that soon she’ll see him again and join his crew. Barebones are secret identities/royals in disguise, slow burn, but there’s only one bed!, and pirates.
Primadonna- Nikolai/Zoya. 14 Chapters (32,766 words), Explicit. Basically just a Ruin and Rising rewrite. Nikolai appoints her to train the squallers, as the King’s army readies for the final battle with the Darkling. Zoya’s knowledge and understanding of the Darkling and how his mind works is vital to Nikolai’s war preparations, not to mention a really good excuse to get to know her and keep her close. 
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cloudywriter · 4 years
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i never got to say i love you - 2
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A/N: heyy i wanted to update vanilla pudding cups but i’ve really kinda hit a block in that story so enjoy this while i move pass my stump with the other story. also i’m working on some masterlist so navigating stories will be easier!
masterlist & AO3 
also here’s my other feysand au if you would like to check that out! -> vanilla pudding cups
~~~
As classes begin to start up Feyre finds herself adjusting well to her new schedule. Most days she has one or two classes in the morning and one or two in the afternoon. Alis almost always brings her some lunch or snacks as she spends every free moment she has in the studio. If it weren’t for Alis she’s convinced she might’ve accidentally starved to death by now. 
Honestly, Feyre hadn’t made many friends besides Alis who she had grown pretty close with. She had brief conversations with Mor in the hallways and had eventually met her roommate, Viviane, but most of the time she saw Mor outside of the dorm building she was with that group of boys from the dining hall. Yes, the same group of boys Alis still managed to bring up every other day, especially when they’d first seen Mor walking with them very comfortably. Alis was convinced Mor would be their way in. 
What Feyre had never told Alis was a week ago Mor had invited them to come play monopoly in her dorm one Friday night with said boys, Viviane, and her boyfriend, Kallias. Feyre had declined. 
Mor is always extremely sweet and a constant ray of sunshine but so much so it unnerved Feyre a bit, she could easily turn into one of those girls Feyre avoided like the plague in high school. Viviane is similar, but a bit more subdued, however Mor was completely right about her being with her boyfriend more often than not. 
At the moment Feyre was making her way back from her last class of the day to her dorm, mentally preparing herself to pull an all-nighter. She had an assignment due for her drawing class that she had been putting off for weeks until the due date had crept up on her. Therefore, Feyre now had approximately 12 hours to draw an entire portrait. Mostly she had procrastinated up until this point because she just had no idea who she wanted to draw and her options were already limited.
When she finally arrived at her dorm room, having stopped at the vending machine for snacks on the way, she pushed the door open, threw her bag on her bed, and slumped in her desk chair, letting out a loud sigh. 
She was hunched over her sketchbook feeling utterly defeated only a few hours later. The sun was beginning to set which had her hopeful, usually she did her best work in the dead of night anyway. But her fingers ached from gripping her pencil so long and she wasn’t sure she could sit up straight without an immense pain flaring in her back, even her neck and shoulders felt stiff. Not to mention, her efforts only produced a half dozen crumpled balls in the trash and a mound of eraser shreds. 
Luckily, Feyre started to get her rhythm back as the night progressed, it was dark out now the only lights coming from the city buildings surrounding the campus. Alis had yet to return which she found a little odd but it was safe to assume she was studying late in the library. 
Unluckily though, the dorm next to her, Mor’s dorm, was getting increasingly noisy with the darkening sky. The constant sound of muffled voices, laughing, and music poured through the wall. 
Feyre was about halfway done with her portrait which had turned into a drawing of Alis, it had started coming together nicely but the added distraction of all the commotion next door was throwing her off her game. She’d been debating with herself for half an hour now whether or not she should say something to Mor; she knew Mor would probably tone it down if she asked. 
At last, nearly two hours later, Feyre was at her absolute breaking point. She hadn’t made much of a dent in the rest of her sketch throughout those hours due to the ever growing disruptions. How Mor had not gotten a noise complaint yet she did not know. The music was louder, the voices went back and forward between intense bickering and cheering, and even random slamming sounds could be heard every once in a while. 
Feyre tried desperately to tune out her surroundings but just as she was finding success a loud banging on the wall followed by yelling brought her right back. She groaned, burying her face in her hands.
Before her mind even processed what her body was doing Feyre found herself outside of Mor’s door knocking with intent. She heard a frenzy of shushing and the music turned down a few notches. 
The door then swung open.
“Hey, sorry - oh, you’re not the RA.”
A hulk of a man stood in the doorway dressed in a tight black t-shirt and batman pajama pants. The man flashed her a big shit-eating grin. Feyre thought there was something familiar about him.
“What brings you around here, sweetheart?” He added, leaning against the door.
That’s when the familiarity donned on Feyre. He was one of the boys from the dining hall, specifically the one who had half his hair up. She also then realized it was in fact Friday night, game night for them.
She had yet to respond to the boy but made herself look up to meet his gaze, making sure she had her best scowl on. He was quite tall.
“You look cute when you’re trying to look angry.” He smirked at her. His eyes dragged up and down her body slowly, intimately. Fuck, Feyre noticed too late she had really left her room with only a random cropped band t-shirt on, barely there baby blue shorts, mismatching socks, glasses, and her hair wrapped around itself in a ridiculously messy bun with only a chunky wool beige cardigan thrown over herself. 
“I’m not cute.”
“I beg to differ, sweetheart.” He winked at her.
“Don’t call me that,” Feyre ground out.
“Sure, I can switch up pet names. What would you rather instead?” He raised his brows at her in question. 
Before Feyre could stomp on his toes Mor came up from behind him, a red solo cup in hand. “Stop bothering Feyre with your incessant flirting, you brute.”
“Feyre, you say? I don’t believe we’ve met.” He spoke, not breaking eye contact with her.
“Right.” Mor opened the door wider causing the man to stumble and shoot her a glare, Mor only giggled. Now that Feyre could see inside she noticed the small foldable table set up in the center of the room and an array of uno cards scattered across the floor. “Okay, well you’ve kinda met Cassian, he’s an ass. But this is Azriel, Rhysand, and Amren,” she spoke, indicating to each person with her hand. 
Azriel gave her a small, half smile while Amren gave her a disinterested wave of the hand. 
Rhysand, however, studied her with an intense gaze that Feyre returned. She hadn’t seen the front of his face up close until now and she could not say she was disappointed whatsoever. Gods, he was like a greek god or something. He looked as if his face and body had been expertly sculpted out of the finest marble. He had black hair that was longer on top and adorably tousled, eyes that were such a specific shade of deep blue they might appear violet in some lights, and bronzed skin. Azriel and Cassian were definitely not bad on the eyes but Rhysand was just something else in her mind. It didn’t hurt he was also wearing the batman pajama bottoms.
Feyre might’ve thought he was having a similar inner monologue to her own but the harsh reality of what she was wearing right now, her bare face, and her hair’s state had her banishing that possibility. He too seemed as if he were in a bit of a daze, studying her. 
“And this guys is Feyre. She lives next door,” Mor finished off. 
Cassian gave Rhysand’s ribs a sharp jab. Rhysand looked a bit startled at first but recovered swiftly, giving Feyre a small tilt of his head in acknowledgment. “Well, it is lovely to finally meet you, Feyre,” Cassian smiled at her. 
Feyre nodded her head, still a little distracted by Rhysand. “You too, sorry for interrupting.” 
“No, no, you’re all good. I’m really sorry were we being too loud? Were you trying to sleep?” Mor asked so sweetly and genuinely Feyre almost felt bad for coming to ask her to quiet down in the first place.
“I-I no, um, it’s alright actually. Have a good night.” Feyre stammered, turning on her heel to end this embarrassing exchange. 
She heard Mor reply with the same sentiment before disappearing back into her dorm. She closed the door and leaned her head against the solid wood. 
That was not the smoothest interaction she’s ever had, that’s for sure. 
She sat back down at her desk and stared at her work before picking up her pencil once more. It was substantially quieter now, Mor must’ve known what had bothered Feyre in the first place. 
She tried to finish her sketch of Alis but her inspiration to do so had dissipated. With that, Feyre turned to the next page, letting her mind take over as her pencil flowed across the paper. She was somewhat aware of who she was now outlining but couldn’t find it in herself to stop. When she got an idea or saw something that intrigued her she had to draw it, like an itch that wouldn’t go away until it gets scratched. 
In record time a completed portrait stared back at her, more specifically Rhysand’s stupid, perfect face stared back at her. Feyre groaned and put her head in her hands.
~~~
please leave feedback & let me know if you wanna be tagged!
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thespianbooks · 4 years
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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 6//
(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (Chapter six) (Chapter seven) (Chapter eight) (Chapter nine) (Chapter ten)
(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red)
“Are you absolutely sure it's a boy?” Rhys asked me as we lay entangled in bed, his ear pressed against my bare stomach and his hand splayed just below my navel.
I giggled as I ran my fingers through his raven locks. In the week since I announced my pregnancy, he asked me different versions of the same question. His hands also seemed to have become permanently glued to my stomach; along with his ears and lips. Every chance he had, Rhys would try and get as close to the baby as possible—which I welcomed, absolutely content with how devoted he was. The morning after Starfall, Rhys insisted we visit Madja’s clinic in Velaris—determined to learn anything and everything there was to know about pregnancy and what it would entail for me. The healer happily obliged, and informed us both of what the next eight and a half months would look like. Not only was a high fae pregnancy longer than a human’s, but as with other fae ailments, any symptoms and risks I faced might be amplified.
There were the normal symptoms I was already accustomed to: nausea, vomiting, fatigue, and others I would soon face: backaches, swelling in my hands, face, and feet, and occasional headaches. Hearing about those symptoms didn’t cause any alarm, they were common and unfortunately came hand-in-hand with creating a new life. Madja also said that every female experienced her pregnancy differently; some had severe complications and had to be on strict bed rest, while others hardly experienced anything other than a few minor discomforts. I hoped for the latter of the two.
It was hearing about the risks, which included a small chance of bleeding that could lead to a miscarriage while we were still in an early phase, that made me nervous and caused Rhys to enter in a full-blown defensive mode. Any prior protective behavior he was experiencing before now intensified with his innate need to safeguard me and the baby. Madja assured us that this behavior was expected and normal between mates; with females in such a vulnerable condition, a male’s instinct was always to protect his mate and their offspring. To his credit, Rhys offered a sheepish grin along with an apology in advance. Having already witnessed what he was like after we were freshly mated, and how he managed to reign himself in, I knew most of it was beyond his control.
However, I welcomed some of his coddling after my unpleasant symptoms returned a day after our visit with Madja, and fluctuated throughout the week. The extreme fatigue seemed to be a permanent state I would stay in for the duration of my pregnancy, but I pleaded to the Mother that my nausea spells would soon cease. It was torture being unable to leave my room for periods of time throughout the day. Unfortunately, there was no predicting when the queasiness would hit, so for the time being I would have to bear with it and hope none of the others would notice and wonder why my seemingly mysterious illness still remained.
Rhys and I decided to hold off on revealing the news to our friends and my sisters until we were out of the realm of possibility for a miscarriage. Madja reassured me that the chances were slim and divulged that although it was difficult for high fae to conceive, it was also difficult to lose a pregnancy. In spite of my relief, I didn’t want to take any chances and asked the healer for all recommendations on how to stay as healthy as possible.
So, along with the prenatal herbal teas she initially prescribed, she also ordered that I immediately put a halt to my morning training sessions with Cassian—which Rhys whole-heartedly agreed with, much to my chagrin. As much as I enjoyed being active, however, I knew fainting after only a couple of minutes of basic punching forms was a sign that I should be taking it easier. My body was now working overtime to provide not only for myself, but for a baby that was growing more and more by the day. Instead, Madja suggested I take more time to rest and relax, to allow myself more free time for leisure activities like my painting. Knowing my concerns, and guilt, over becoming stagnant, Rhys promised my duties as High Lady wouldn’t be affected—which left me relieved.
However, as much as my mate knew how capable I was of tending to my regular duties as High Lady, I couldn’t help but be amused at how much he insisted on spoiling me. He now reserved the right to tend to my every want and need; whether I was weary or not, Rhys began to wait on my hand and foot under the guise that since I was carrying his child, he would carry everything else. I appreciated it most whenever I was feeling particularly nauseated or drained, but I drew the line whenever he tried to spoon feed me my meals—I still maintained my irritation for it, no matter how much of a mother hen he was going to be for the duration of my pregnancy. I also valued it on morning’s like today when I had awoken with little to no desire to leave the comforts of our bed—whether it was from my overwhelming fatigue or not.
“Yes, the Bone Carver appeared to me as our firstborn. A miniature version of you,” I answered with a sigh of mock exasperation.
“And you’re sure this mini-me didn’t happen to actually have long hair or maybe more feminine features? It is dark in the prison, afterall, maybe you missed a couple of details,” he tried to reason, raising his head to look at me.
“I showed you what he looked like,” I laughed.
“Ah yes, but I saw through your eyes Feyre darling. So to clarify the vision, I have to rely on the original source. In this case, that’s you,” he said, his grin positively feline.
I grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it as I laughed, “Smartass.”
His grin remained as he braced himself against my stomach playfully, “Careful darling, you’ll hurt the baby,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes and hit him again as he laughed, “It’s a boy. Maybe the next one will be a girl.”
“Next one?” He asked, his violet eyes lit up as they met mine with raised and amused brows.
“We’ll see. Let’s focus on our son first,” I said.
His chuckle reverberated through me as he pressed his ear to my still-flat stomach. Despite no growth progress being made on my pregnant belly, he was obsessed.
“I want him to know I’m here,” Rhys answered before I could ask; double checking to make sure that my mental shields were intact.
“He knows,” I said as I continued to brush my fingers through his hair. “He was calling out to you for weeks before either of us realized he was there.”
During our visit, I had Madja explain the mystery behind the faint glimmer that fluttered between us. The ancient inkling that existed between mates as a confirmation that they had successfully procreated. Rhys was in awe of the information, and hoped the glimmer would remain throughout the months. So far, my little glimmering baby was silent—perhaps reveling in finally being noticed.
“Still, it’s never too early to bond with my son,” he said with a grin as he pressed a chaste kiss to my stomach before subsequently moving from his spot and hovering above me. “Are you feeling well enough to have breakfast with everyone, or shall I bring you breakfast in bed?”
I sighed as I held his arms, lightly tracing the pattern of his tattoos as I debated, “I could honestly sleep for another couple of hours. You should go, let everyone know I’m okay,” I answered.
“I’m beginning to run out of excuses to explain why their High Lady has been so inclined to not leave her room.”
I hesitated, realizing how hard it actually was to keep up the deceit. A part of me knew Mor was suspicious of something already, having guessed Cauldron-knew-what on Starfall. The others I couldn’t even begin to guess what assumptions they made.
“Should we just tell them?” I asked. “I know we wanted to wait a little while longer, but it just doesn’t feel right to keep giving excuse after excuse.”
Rhys nodded in agreement, “I’m pretty sure Cassian and Azriel know something, but they have too much respect for your privacy to pry it out of me.”
I laughed and sighed tiredly, “Do you think they’ll be excited?” I asked.
He smirked, “Well I don’t think they’ll be disappointed.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed him away before sitting up as he chuckled. He caught my wrist carefully before I could get up from the bed, “I think they’ll be more than happy to hear there will soon be a new member of our Inner Circle,” he said.
I smiled, “He’s going to be spoiled, isn’t he?”
“Rotten, my love.” He replied as I laughed.
X
I didn’t realize how nervous I would actually be until we sat down for breakfast. Our morning routine was proceeding as normal—everyone gathering in our grand dining hall, another room I was particularly proud of in the estate. I planned for it to be large enough to fit all of us comfortably, and took extra consideration for the Illyrian brothers and their mighty wings.
I took comfort in seeing everyone in their customary morning moods; Amren and Mor chattering over a new line of jewelry on display at their favorite shop at the Palace of Thread and Jewels, Elain displaying a book of pressed flowers she had been collecting to Azriel—who actually requested to see it the night before, and Nesta keeping a watchful eye on the pair while Cassian engaged her in some kind of boastful conversation. I was actually surprised to see how close they were sitting together without Nesta having a sneer on her face. I tried to remember the last time it was she even looked at him with a sneer at all.
Getting distracted, my love? Rhys asked down the bond.
I glanced at him and took a sip from my glass of orange juice. What, should I just blurt it out while they aren’t paying attention?
Why not?
I paused. Really?
If you don’t, then perhaps I will.
I blinked and opened my mouth to say it, but when the words refused to come out, Rhys grinned mischievously before simply turning in his seat and said, “Feyre darling is pregnant.”
Everyone’s eyes instantly turned to me and I blushed under their collective gaze. There was quiet for little more than two heartbeats before Mor and Elain’s high-pitched squeals met the air and the sounds of chairs scraping the floor filled the room as everyone moved. Mor was the first to reach me as she threw her arms around me in a warm embrace.
“Oh, I knew it, I knew it!” She cheered as she hugged me and my eyes burned as she pulled away, Elain wrapping me in her arms next.
“I can’t believe it, Feyre, you’re going to have a baby!” she exclaimed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Azriel and Cassian congratulating Rhys with clasps on the shoulder.
I laughed aloud when Cassian wrapped an arm around his shoulder and wrestled him around, “I knew you had it in you Rhysie!” he exclaimed as Azriel nodded his approval.
Just as the shadowsinger turned his attention to me and took a step in my direction to congratulate me, Rhys was out of Cassian’s hold and in his path—blocking him from getting to me with a deadly snarl on his lips.
Cassian barked a laugh and slapped a hand on Rhys’s tense shoulder, “Is this a second version of that mating bond rearing its ugly head?” he taunted.
Before Rhys could turn that snarl towards Cassian, I touched his other shoulder gently in an attempt to calm his feral temper. Almost instantly, he relaxed as his gaze drifted to my stomach and shrugged Cassian’s hand away.
“Madja warned us that this might happen,” I said, “But I’d prefer you two not destroy this room.”
“We can always have it out in the training pit later, Rhysie.” Cassian goaded, cracking his knuckles with a wicked grin.
Rhys squared his shoulders as his hand came to rest on the small of my back, “I’m fine here.”
“A typical male guarding his offspring,” Amren said coolly, and I was grateful for the attempt to lighten the animosity that briefly began to brew. “Congratulations girl. It’s about time our group is graced by a youngling’s presence, it’ll be a welcome change around here.”
“How far along are you?” Nesta asked, and I was surprised to see her standing beside Cassian, not realizing she had made her way over during the hostile interaction with Rhys, instead of attempting to shield Elain.
“Almost three months now,” I answered, my hand coming to rest on my flat stomach. “I found out the day before Starfall.”
“Aha! I told you!” Mor cheered as she turned to Cassian and Azriel.
Cassian swore under his breath and Az dipped his head in acknowledgement, and I balked. “What’re you talking about?”
“We all made a bet on how long it would take for you guys to announce it. I gave it a week, Cass bet two, and Az bet you would be half-way along before you told us. Which means I won!” Mor sang excitedly.
“I lost the minute his darkness over here didn’t shout it from the rooftop after you told him,” Amren revealed nonchalantly, motioning to Rhys.
“Wait, you all knew?” I asked, bewildered.
“Are you kidding? I smelled it on you the minute we came back from the mountains,” Cassian admitted, “I’m surprised Rhys didn’t, with him being your mate and all.”
“To be fair, a part of me did know, but until Feyre was fully aware herself, I wasn’t going to raise any suspicion,” Rhys said nonchalantly, and I could feel his attempt to tame his preternatural instincts in order to avoid giving into Cassian’s baiting.
“So, this wasn’t really news then?” I asked, unable to hide my disappointment.
“It was for me,” Elain interjected, grabbing my hands gently with a smile, “I had no idea, and I’m so happy Feyre.”
“I didn’t know either,” Nesta added, and I was astonished to see a formal look of support on her lovely face.
Elain embraced me again as my eyes burned. They were all happy for us, and as Amren mentioned earlier, a baby would soon be welcomed by everyone here. I tried not to let the tears fall as I imagined my son being held in each of their arms. I sniffed as I stepped back from Elain’s arms and blinked in surprise when I saw Amren, Mor, Azriel and Cassian standing together before me and bowed with their hands over their hearts—just as they had done years ago after Rhys and I were newly mated.
“Our vow of service and protection is extended to the child you carry; our future High Lord of the Night Court.” Mor explained before I could question them.
“Or the future High Lady,” Cassian said with a wink.
I glanced at Rhys as he slid his hand back onto the small of my back, and without the need to communicate through the bond we knew we would keep that revelation a secret.
“This is normally a tradition sworn to the High Lord, but seeing as you are our High Lady, and the one who is actually doing all the work, we pledge our vow to you and your child.” Amren continued.
My heart tightened and my face flushed as they all stood as one, their hands still on their hearts. I captured the image in my mind, imagining what colors of paint I would need later and the exact canvas I would use to commemorate this moment forever. Sworn protectors of the Night.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice still thick with the unshed tears.
Mor grinned and came up to envelop me in another hug, “Your emotions are going to be all over the place now! You don’t have to worry about holding back, we all understand,” she crooned and I laughed with a sob.
“I’ll admit, I’ve never really been around pregnant females outside of the ones in the Illyrian camps, but I’m willing to learn,” Cassian reassured.
“We all are,” Azriel added.
I sniffed and wiped at the few tears that escaped, “I guess we’re all experiencing this for the first time,” I said.
“I’ve at least held a baby before,” Mor said proudly.
“Before it burst into tears and reached back for its mother,” Rhys remarked with a smirk, earning a glare from the golden-haired beauty.
“Hey, I’ve held a baby before,” Cassian defended. “You forget, I’ve taught younglings how to fly. Sometimes that required holding them when they cried.”
“Your idea of holding a youngling included patting them on the back until they calmed and tossing them, sometimes in mid-air,” Azriel smoothly cut in.
“That happened once, and it was an accident!” Cassian barked.
“So, you dropped a baby in mid-air?” Mor asked.
Elain gasped in horror at the thought, causing Amren to burst out laughing and Nesta rolled her eyes as Cassian fumbled over his words to try and defend his actions. I squeezed Rhys’s hand as my heart swelled and his eyes met mine with an easy grin, his free hand coming to rest on my stomach—happy to finally be able to do so in front of everyone. I returned his grin when that familiar glimmer fluttered excitedly beneath his touch, our son happy and no doubt feeling right at home with his family.
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gwynrielendgame · 3 years
Text
Gwyn one shot
Idk I just write shit I think is chaotic
TW(possible): SA
Devlon was, once again, trying to invalidate the females who had won the blood rite. Gwyn didn't see why it was necessary for the three sisters to help train the other female Illyrians in their own camps. It would be much more beneficial for them to train at the house of wind training ring, away from all the male scrutiny. Gwyn, Emerie, and Nesta knew how much it bothered Devlon that they had done so well in the rite. He had made comments here and there invalidating them and went as far as embarrassing them in front of other war camp leaders, suggesting that they only won because the Illyrian males went easy on them. Cassian and Azriel could only do so much. It was really starting to piss Gwyn off. She knew Devlon was provoking them, but Gwyn no longer seemed to care. He would continue to do this until one of the girls proved him wrong.
"I mean if we are speaking honestly, you females only did so well because you had each other. Individual hand-to-hand combat is a completely different playing field." Some of the higher rank males laughed along with Devlon. Nesta rolled her eyes while Emerie could not have looked less interested if she tried.
"Fine. Who do you want me to fight?" Gwyn snapped at the pigheaded male. It caught everyone by surprise. While Devlon was trying to goad them, he didn't think they would call him out by proving him wrong. Cassian and Azriel sent Gwyn a wary look. They knew her and Emerie won the blood rite, but they haven't seen any of the females actually fight. They would continue to underestimate her too.
"I don't expect you to actually fight any of my males, darling." He sent her a toothy grin as if they were in on the same joke. "It wouldn't be fair."
"Pick your guy and I'll fight him." She insisted. She would shut him up once and for all. Devlon had never seen her fight either. She would show him exactly where he could shove his "darling."
"Gwyn." Emerie muttered. Clearly hoping for Gwyn to shut up. If anyone knew of the Illyrians ruthlessness, it was her. Devlon smirked before scanning the area. There were several men training on the opposite side of the ring. Gwyn, her two sisters, Cassian, and Azriel (for some reason) were currently standing on the females side along side Devlon. They were supposed to be giving helpful tips, but the arrogant male had been too busy undermining them to allow any teaching to occur. Devlon stopped his scanning and turned to Gwyn.
"Trev. Come here." Devlon called to the other side. Almost predictably, the largest man over there came strutting over to them. When Gwyn made eye contact, she immediately froze. He was in the same group as her in the blood rite. He also woke up early. He seemed more fascinated by the weapons on the playing field than her, so she took his distraction as her time to escape. Trev stopped a few feet away from them and looked towards Devlon.
"You're going to do hand-to-hand combat with the half-breed." He sneered out the last word as though it might hurt Gwyn. She rolled her eyes. He was going to have to do a lot better than that if he wanted to hurt her. To his credit, Trev looked apprehensive.
"No weapons?"
"No." Devlon almost looked gleeful as he said this, but it caused Trev's eyes to nervously glance over to Nesta's.
"Seems unfair. Does the witch promise to leave me alone if I hurt her friend?" All eyes seemed to turn to Nesta who was glaring as per usual.
"I don't make promises I can't keep." Her response was curt, but it had Gwyn elbowing her in the ribs. If this was how she had to prove herself, then so be it. It appeared she would need her sisters on board for it though. "Fine. No witchy shit." Nesta conceded after an intense stare down with Gwyn. Cassian spoke up next.
"This seems like a bad idea." Gwyn shot him a glare. She knows he doesn't mean to do it, but comments like that undermine her ability as much as Devlon's. She could handle herself against anyone. She would never allow a man to have the upper hand again.
"She can do it." Azriel's quiet confidence had her sliding her eyes to meet him. She could find only support behind them which strengthened her resolve. She stepped inside the ring and quickly ran through her stretches. Just as Trev stepped in, she began her mind-stilling.
"Go." It was a singular, quiet word spoken by Devlon, but Gwyn was off. She knew that Trev wouldn't make the first move with his apprehension. Gwyn shot her fist into Trev's neck which had him bending over in a coughing fit. Gwyn grabbed the back of his head and shoved it into her knee. He was sprawled on the floor for less than a second before he hopped back up.
"Bitch." He muttered as he spit blood from his mouth. Gwyn could now see the anger simmering in his eyes. This is where the real fight began. They traded a series of blows, and punches, and kicks. Gwyn got hit so hard in the temple she started seeing stars, but she refused to give up. Her stubbornness wouldn't allow her to lose this fight. Gwyn once again got the upper hand by kicking the back of his knee which had him falling once more. She jabbed her fingers into his eyes which had him screaming. He managed to shove her back while yelling profanities at her. She wasn't playing fair and she knew that. She was taking as many low blows as she could. Trev wouldn't be used to this kind of combat considering other males liked to play by certain rules. Gwyn didn't have that sort of luxury being at such a physical disadvantage.
"Fuck you." He shouted then a small smirk quirked his lips up. "You should hear what the other males have to say about you." They were both circling each other at this point. The exhaustion was setting in for both of them and they needed a second to breathe. Gwyn didn't think the other males would gossip like teenage busybodies, but apparently she would be proven wrong. He threw out a fist that she barely blocked. It still clipped her jaw though.
"Didn't realize the great Illyrian warriors were such gossips." She huffed out. Stupid males.
"Those Illyrian warriors talk about how much they wanted your friends that day. How they would have been willing to lose the whole thing for one night with either of them. Didn't hear quite the same thing about you." Gwyn suddenly knew where this was going and blood roared in her ears. She impulsively threw a punch into his ribs that he easily blocked and responded with a punch of his own to her ribs. She realized then that that was his plan. Piss her off enough that she becomes sloppy. She started her mind-still again, but he wouldn't stop talking.
"I'm curious what's under those leathers. I didn't get a good look that day." He paused for only a second to drag his eyes up and down her body. It was enough to make her skin crawl. "I hear it is quite the canvas of scars. One of my brothers said one look at you in that nightgown had him gagging." Gwyn's breathing became much more labored.
"Shut up." She spit at him. She sent a kick to his thigh, but he stepped away too quickly.
"Another one of my brothers said your skin was so mutilated, he'd rather fuck a suriel." Trev laughed at that. Gwyn didn't peg him for a vindictive male, but she supposed he didn't like being made a fool of so quickly within their fight. "It's hard to know for sure without seeing with my own eyes though. Why don't you show a little skin?"
"You know what I have noticed about men?" Gwyn started. Her rage had peaked and she was about to let it out. "They don't play by the rules. So why should I?" Gwyn dropped down to her knees and swung her legs out. Trev fell hard, too slow to notice what Gwyn was doing. She was sitting on his chest. His arms stuck under her legs. She had pulled a hidden dagger out and shoved it through his lips. She held his tongue between two fingers and pressed the dagger heavily to it. Trev's eyes widen and Gwyn could hear shouts from outside the ring.
"What was that, Trev? I couldn't quite hear you. What were you saying about my body?" Trev was squirming with all his might but he had exhausted most of his energy by now, and Gwyn's anger was insatiable. She felt as though she had increased strength even for a fae. He was muttering and mumbling, but none of it made since with his tongue in her tight grasp.
"Don't get shy now. Speak up." Gwyn felt as though her anger could shoot out of her like a ray of light. It was uncontrollable. The shouting outside of the ring continued but Gwyn was only focused on the male in front of her. It wasn't until she registered the fear in his eyes that her anger started to dim. She finally could hear what they were saying.
"Gwyn, stop." That was Nesta.
"Gwyn, he didn't mean it." Emerie.
"Let him go." Cassian.
"Are you fucking crazy, you dumb bitch?" And that one was definitely Devlon.
It was as if she was burned by fire. One second she was about to cut his tongue out of his mouth and the next she was throwing herself off him and scrambling away. It appeared Trev was on the same mind set because he also was scrambling away from her.
"Sorry." Gwyn could barely choke it out. She didn't know what overcame her. She just hoped it never happened again. Her breathing was heavy as she searched her family's faces for the judgement that should be there. Nesta and Emerie looked concerned, Cassian looked wary, and Azriel looked...supportive? He had that same look on his face as before. As though he understood the rage that was boiling over inside before she shoved it back down.
"Sorry." Gwyn tried again. Devlon was looking over Trev at this point who still looked spooked. Both of the females jumped out of whatever daze they were in and grabbed Gwyn.
"We need to go." Nesta whispered. "Before Devlon can dish out any punishments." The beautiful high fae female was hurrying them over to Azriel to winnow them away. Cassian was staying behind. Probably to do damage control if Gwyn had to guess.
It wasn't until the were back in the personal library of the house of wind did Gwyn break down. She was so startled by her own wrath that she didn't know how to cope. Gwyn had never been cruel before, but in that moment, she felt cruel. Azriel left the females to comfort their sister, but not before whispering so only Gwyn could hear.
"Good job."
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darling-archeron · 5 years
Text
Beneath the Dark - Chapter One
What would have happened if Feyre had come to Prythian much earlier? Feyre Archeron has left her mortal life behind, and accepted being demi-fae. She has found her place in the Night Court's Inner Circle. But when her and Rhys attend a ball hosted by Amarantha Under the Mountain, they are in for much for then they bargained for.
Masterlist
Two years later
What are you scheming now, Rhys?” Feyre asked, sneaking up behind me on soft feet and peering over my shoulder.
“I’m not scheming - I’m plotting, darling,” I replied smoothly, folding the paper I held.
Feyre rolled her eyes, walking over to face me. “Semantics. What’s on the paper?”
I feigned a dramatic sigh and handed over the stiff parchment, watching her eyes move slowly across the page as she sounded out words she didn’t know well. “General Amarantha of Hybern requests the presence of The High Lord of the Night Court this evening Under the Mountain, for a night of revelry and celebration. The half-moon offers us peace to rejoice in our newly formed alliances.”
I couldn’t help but snort at the last part. Honoring moon cycles was a completely Prythian tradition, and one that only some courts upheld. The half-moon wasn’t generally seen as a symbol of peace, but it was interesting that Amarantha would try to pass herself off as knowledgeable about Prythian’s culture.
Feyre paused, raising her eyebrows at me. “The theme of the evening will be a masquerade, to honor High Lord Tamlin’s shapeshifting gift.” Again, phony pleasantness. The ball was likely to ‘apologize’ for tearing out Lucien’s eyeball and sending him back to Tamlin screaming in agony.
The letter went on about honoring alliances, how the first shipments of goods had arrived on Prythian’s shores. We would dine on Hybern’s fine wine tonight. Feyre disdainfully tossed the letter back on the mahogany table. “I thought Amarantha had moved on from trying to forge alliances with Night.”
I shook my head. “No. Amarantha has always had a penchant for cruelty, and she quite delighted in Hewn City. She’s been biding her time by charming Beron in Autumn, but I have no doubt she would take great pleasure in the chance to learn our secrets.”
“Are the other courts still going forward with their trading deals?”
“Yes. All of them except Tamlin, that is. Most of the other High Lords were alive during the war, even if they were very young. I had hoped they would realize she’s still a snake. But they’ve all been fooled by her apparent ‘desire for retribution.’ They’ve forgotten how she slaughtered the humans they fought so hard to protect.” Feyre shook her head in disgust at my words.
“Tamlin must have really pissed off Amarantha for her to go after Lucien. It’s the most violent she’s been since landing on our shores.” Feyre clenched her jaw, air hissing through her teeth at the thought of Amarantha hurting Lucien. Despite everything – she still cared for him.
“I think she has a thing for eyes, quite honestly. During the war, I saw her tear out the eyeball of Jurian, and do far worse things to those who displeased her.”
“Are you going?” She asked.
“I wouldn’t bother – it’ll be an evening of scheming courtiers that I have little patience for.” No matter that I would don a mask that would make me worse than them. “But the evening provides an excellent chance at figuring out her – and Hybern’s – true motivations.”
“You don’t think she wants peace and trade.” Not a question.
“Not for a moment. Amarantha’s been angry ever since the War. Some say that she’s harbored a vengeance deeper than Hybern himself. I have no doubt that any sham of an alliance we made with her will only go poorly for us. Even Azriel’s best spies haven’t come up with any useful information. Which is why this meeting provides an opportunity to get past her mental shields and make her confess her crimes in front of all of Prythian. Both of us will be attending.” Even though I hated the idea of bringing her before Amarantha…but Feyre could take care of herself.  I leaned on the side of the table as she considered.
“Killing her could lead to war.” Feyre pointed out, even though I hadn’t mentioned murder. But Feyre knew me well.
“I know. I’m prepared.” I didn’t elaborate on exactly how much thought I had put into this.
“Are the others joining us?”
“No. If she was using this night to plan an invasion, that’s what she would hope for. I have no intention of leaving the Court vulnerable to attack. Besides, they wouldn’t be my expected entourage anyway. We’re going to have to stomach the Court of Nightmares for the evening.”
Feyre let out an exaggerated sigh, plopping herself down on an armchair. “Bring Nuala and Cerridwen too. They won’t be out of place as your handmaidens, and they’ll be able to spy.”
I felt a rush of pride at her cunning. She had changed so much in the past six months since coming to Night. My strong, beautiful mate.
“An excellent suggestion, and one I will be sure to carry out, darling.”
“So, you’ll be acting as the Almighty High Lord tonight. What about me?”
I gave her a crooked smile. “That’s up to you. I’ll need you to help to keep me anchored when I am in Amarantha’s mind. If one’s shields are thick enough you can become lost or entrapped in their mind – even someone as powerful as myself. You’ll also be in charge of making sure she doesn’t notice anything amiss, keeping her distracted if need be.”
She nodded. “And after that?”
There was no surprise in Feyre’s eyes, only understanding, and ferocity as I told her the rest of my plan, what I would need her to do.
“We leave at eight. Nuala and Cerridwen have been shopping and found a few possible dresses for the occasion. I took the liberty of picking out a mask for you myself.”
“I certainly hope you picked out one beautiful enough to charm everyone.” She said, humor in her voice.
“Ah, but your own face can do that well enough on its own.”
She looked at me in amusement, tossing her shining hair as she stood. “Flirt. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Striding away on soft feet, my mate exited the room as silently as she had come.
Mate.
My mate.
If only I had the courage to tell her.
The mask Rhys had sent up to my room was made of swirling black lace, the sides of the mask swooping up to form the wings of a bat. At the center, the bat’s head was formed. Little silver gems lined the edges. It was utterly perfect, and I planned the rest of my outfit around it.
The dress itself felt unlike anything I had ever worn. Even after I had left Spring, I had stayed on the more conservative side of Night Court attire. Though it had been a relief to return to the ordinary comfort of pants.
The bodice was covered in woven strands of black lace with ornate, shimmery black detailing covering parts of my chest, arms, and stomach. The neckline, wide at the top, slimmed down to a vee that showed a mere sliver of skin a few inches above my bellybutton. The flowing black skirt sported a single high slit.
Small, ornate braids twined in my hair – Nuala’s work - while the rest flowed freely down my back. I had let her apply red lipstick and eye makeup to complete the look, but the finishing touch was the lapis lazuli diadem she had placed on my head. I truly looked the part of a formidable ambassador of Night.
I looked at the clock. Twenty minutes until I was due to meet Rhys. I sank down into the chair by the window that gave me a perfect view of Velaris, careful not to wrinkle the gown. Outside, the daytime activities were wrapping up as the sun began to sink lower into the horizon. Mothers called their children in for supper, workers hurried home. I could hear the faint sound of a lute a few blocks away.
I wondered what the fae mother who had abandoned me so long ago would say about me now. If she had known even as she abandoned my unsuspecting, mortal father what I was to become. Nesta and Elain would have certainly been shocked. Their outcast, unwanted half-sister, lounging in Prythian’s most feared court.
Perhaps one day, I would return to the human lands, try to reconcile with my sisters. But not now. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to put it off forever. Far too soon they would wither with age while I remained young and immortal.
I would do it, I vowed. Just not today. Standing, I took last one look at my form in the mirror and strode down the staircase.  Rhys was waiting, hands tucked into his pockets. I watched him as his eyes traveled up my form – something like desire hidden in their depths. “You look absolutely delicious, darling. I fear the other courts may fall to their knees at the sight of you.”
I raised my brows. “Someone, it seems, has good taste.”
“I knew you’d like the mask.”
“I was referring to Cerridwen’s suggestion of the dress, actually.”
“You wound me, Feyre.” He sighed theatrically.
I smiled a bit. “You seem to be keeping your look on brand. But no mask?” Indeed, he was dressed in black pants and an elaborate black tunic laced with silver thread, his favored crown of ravens’ feathers on his head. His face, however, remained bare.
He twitched his fingers, a mask appearing in his hand. “I thought I’d give you one last look at my face before I covered it up.”
I snorted as he twirled the mask between his fingers, brandishing it before he placed it on his face. It was black, with detailing of the same coloring etched over top.
Between the crown and the mask, he truly looked like the Lord of Nightmares, though I knew better as he held out his arm for me.
Taking it, I breathed in the scent of Velaris one last time before Rhys winnowed us away.
I clung tightly to his arm as we traveled to the fabric of the universe, stopping first at Hewn City. Around forty fae waited, looking vaguely unnerved by the sight of their High Lord. I made eye contact with a few, giving them a serpentine smile as I walked past. Most appeared to be nobles, but there were a few guards and lesser fae thrown in the bunch as well. “No Kier tonight?” I asked down our bond. Rhys’s shields were enforced more than usual tonight, not even a crack left open.
 “No. He’s throwing a tantrum about it, but he’ll only stir up trouble if he comes with us.”
Rhys glared out over the wicked courtiers he ruled over. “I expect you all to be on good behavior tonight unless someone would like themselves to find themselves missing an appendage.”   He paused for a beat before winnowing away, leaving everyone else – including myself, to follow suit. Various fae held onto each other – clearly, not everyone could winnow. Luckily, I wasn’t included in that count as I vanished, pushing through the void to reach my destination. I hadn’t winnowed this far by myself before, and by the time I arrived at the gates of the Mountain, I found myself out of breath. Rhys was already there, giving me a wink a hairsbreadth of a second before the Nightmare Court began to winnow in. Turning around with a flourish, he led us into the base of the Mountain. I walked a few steps behind him with a few other nobles as we had planned.
I had never been to the meeting place of the High Lords, but I could see why it was the only place they could all meet without being too crowded or threatening to destroy something. The mountain was huge – bigger than any of the Steppes.
Though the entrance had been filled with ornate carvings, the majority of the Mountain’s walls were disappointingly bare, my artist’s eyes noted.
Down we descended, following the bright torches as they led us into the mountain’s heart. Soon, the passageway led to a set of towering doors. Upon Rhysand’s arrival, two red-skinned faeries pulled open the doors for him, giving way to a brightly lit gathering hall.
It was a wide, open space – a wise choice, considering the mighty powers that would soon fill it. Glowing faelight bobbed throughout the room, and below finely roasted food was set out onto tables. Strange, unfamiliar music played in the background. Ornate tapestries that would have taken a mortal lifetime to create adorned the walls, almost as lifelike as the fae who crowded the room in front of me.
Immediately, I scanned the room, looking for the different Courts. Summer, Autumn, Dawn, and Winter had already arrived, members mingling in the crowd. The Spring Court - Tamlin - hadn’t arrived yet. I stiffened at the thought of seeing him again. We hadn’t had any contact since that day I had accepted Rhys’s sanctuary. Did he still love me? Or had that love turned into the boiling rage I knew too well?
Sensing my thoughts, I felt Rhys brush up against my mental shields reassuringly. It brought my mind back to the task at hand. Amarantha.
I scanned the crowd again, this time looking for the red hair Rhys had described. It didn’t take long. She had positioned herself near the center of the room and was talking to the High Lord of Dawn. The Ever-Blooming Flower wasn’t overwhelmingly beautiful, nor did her features strike a bolt of fear in my heart, though her face was obscured by a golden lioness mask. She wore a long-sleeved, bronze gown that was tight in the hips. A regal sort of beauty. What struck me as out of place was the spiky, golden crown she wore. Though only metal, not jewels, it was a queen’s crown - not a general’s. Rhys turned around to the court behind him, bringing my attention back to him. “Go play.”
For Amarantha, sensing Rhysand’s arrival, had broken away from the throng and was gliding over to us. I could hardly walk away and spend the evening under her radar now, not without her taking it as an insult. It would appear I was to meet the beast head-on.
It was what I had come for. Breathing deeply, I checked my mental shields and looked her in the eyes.
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maastrash · 5 years
Note
Hi! Could you do the first neighbors prompt for Elriel?
Hi nonnie!! Thank you for the request :) I hope you enjoy 💗💗💗
Holiday HC Request List
Is it Christmas without an ER trip?
Elain was flustered
No, that was an understatement
She was going full-on insane
She had a pie baking in the oven, pasta boiling in a pot, and she still needed to make more dishes
Feyre’s boyfriend Rhysand was hosting Christmas this year and of course, Elain wanted to make a good impression
She had never cooked for Feyre’s friends or been to Rhys’s house which just made this situation all the more stressful
After hours of prepping Elain knows she has to go or she’ll be late
And she does not want to be late
Elain goes outside to open her car trunk because she won’t be able to simultaneously carry the dishes and open the car
Precariously balancing 5 dishes on her arms and chest she slowly makes her out of the house
“Hey, do you need a hand with that?”
Elain turns “Thank you, but I think I’m al-
She slips, falling right on her ankle, the dishes crashing down around her
Before she can even process what just happened, the most beautiful man she has ever seen is leaning over her, looking very concerned
“Oh my god, I am so sorry that I distracted you, are you ok?” he asks
Elain tries to move “Yea I think I’m go-” she winces
“Ok never mind I’m not good”
“That ankle looks like it could be broken and you look pretty scraped up,” he says evaluating her, “I think we need to go to the ER”
“Oh man, I had to bring all these dishes to my sister’s Christmas celebration!” Elain groans  “Although it doesn’t look like there’s a point now” 
The man looks at her sympathetically “I’m really sorry about all your hard work, but you really should let me take you to the hospital.”
“Usually I would say no to strangers” she chuckles “But it looks like I don’t really have any other option.”
He laughs “Well if it makes you feel better, I live like two houses down so technically I’m your neighbor and not a complete stranger.”
That actually does make me feel better” she smiles “I’m Elain, and you are?”
“Azriel,” he says shaking her hand “Here let me try and get you in my car”
Elain tries to not squeal in pain as he lifts her off the icy ground 
Although she’s in pain she can’t help but notice how muscular he is
Her heart begins beating faster and her cheeks begin to redden
Elain sighs in relief once she’s in the car glad that her breathing has finally returned back to normal, not from the pain ;)
“Hey Azriel I’m really sorry if I’m ruining your Christmas plans. Feel free to drop me off at the hospital. You are in no way obligated to stay with me”
He chuckles “Elain honestly don’t worry at all. I was just on my way to my brother’s house and he’s going to be with his girlfriend all night. Plus, I am for sure not leaving you alone on Christmas with a possible broken ankle.”
She can’t help but smile
How did she get lucky enough to end up with the most handsome and caring male on Christmas?
“Ok” she replies, “Only if you’re sure”
“ I am 100% sure and good thing too because we’re here”
Azriel parks the car, grabs a wheelchair, and brings Elain to the ER desk
“Hi there, my neighbor here slipped in the snow and we think she may have broken her ankle”
The women look concerned, “Has she been drinking? It’s only 4 pm”
Elain’s cheeks flush “No ma’am I’m sober,  just a total klutz”
The receptionist doesn’t look convinced, but proceeds “Ok go ahead and wheel her to room 5, a nurse will be in shortly to take x rays”
They thank the woman and head towards the room
“I can’t believe I am actually stupid enough to end up in the ER on Christmas, completely sober”
Azriel laughs “Hey is it really Christmas without an ER trip?”
Elain smilies “ I guess not”
As they’re waiting, they realize they have a lot more in common than they originally thought
In fact, they enjoy each other’s company so much that Elain is disappointed when the nurse finally takes her away to do x rays
When she comes back in a cast, Az wants to be the first to sign it
As he’s signing Elain looks up at the clock
“Oh my goodness it’s almost 9! I’m sorry I made you so late to your brother’s party Azriel”
“Don’t worry!” he laughs “I don’t even think Rhysand noticed”
“Wait did you say Rhysand?” she asks
“Yea why?”
“Because I was supposed to meet my sister’s boyfriend, Rhysand, at his house for a Christmas party”
Wait are you Elain, Feyre’s sister?”
“Yea that’s me, Elain Archeron”
“Wow, I can’t believe I didn’t put this together! Usually, people say I’m super observant”
“I guess not observant enough” Elain giggles  “But this is perfect then, we can go together”
Azriel grins “That is perfect”
Elain never thought she would be happy to have a broken leg, but leaving the hospital and looking up at Azriel, she couldn’t be any more thankful for her clumsiness 
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hellas-himself · 5 years
Text
Ch.1 Welcome to Illyria
After the death of his father, Azriel is forced to go back to the one place he swore he’d never return to. But he finds himself quite literally face to face with his past, one that he had not let himself think of since he’d left. 
(translations and other notes at the end!)
here’s Ch. 2
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.
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The bus driver wasted no time in closing the door behind me as soon as my boots hit the ground. I sighed, adjusting my backpack and walked away from the paved road towards the muddy path head. Of course, I had been the only one to get off at this stop. Who would willingly come here? ‘Welcome to Illyria’, the sign read and I scoffed. But I supposed that this would be the most welcome I’d ever be here now that my father was dead. 
The dirt road gave way to pavement and I was surprised enough that I stopped and stared at the town I’d left so long ago. The shops were the same, yes, but renovated. New faces. Smiling faces. How anyone had ever loved living here, or even visiting- always amazed me.  But I realized where I was standing and though her father was gone, I was sure Emerie was running the store now. No one knew I was here and I wanted to keep it that way.
My father’s house was at least half an hour walk away from the town, but that was alright. The day was sunny despite the cold. Despite the fact that I was going back to the one place I swore I never would. But the hijo’e puta had one trick up his sleeve, even after his death. At least his lawyer respected her word and when I arrived, we were the only ones there. Cordial. To the point- I was handed a folder containing my mother’s legal documents like her birth certificate and passport. The papers to a deposit box at the bank across town that she had left to me- something I had not known about. Then, the lawyer handed me a wooden box, small enough to fit in my backpack but no key to open it. “It was left for you,” the lawyer said to me, “Legally.” I had to smirk at that. I almost wished I had been there to see my madrasta’s face when she learned my father had held on to my mother’s things. That he had managed to keep her from getting rid of it was a thought I was not ready to consider.
The bank was literally across town. By the time I made it back, I decided I had enough time to get something to eat and take a breath before walking the rest of the way. Illyria still had no buses, and I doubted Uber was even a thing here. It didn’t take me long to choose where to go, the diner was still up and running. I had to smile at the sight of it, that had been one place I’d enjoyed going to everyday after school with my friends. With my mother. Nuala and Cerridwen’s parents had owned it… But I knew they’d passed. I doubted the twins had remained here.
I didn’t recognize anyone inside, but it was quiet. Ridiculously clean. There was music playing softly and it smelled like heaven in there. I found a booth at the very back, setting my bag on the floor and pushing it against the wall. The owner must be new, I decided. The menu was almost all in French and to my surprise, Spanish.
“What can I start you off with?” a familiar voice said and I looked up, staring into familiar brown eyes. My heart did leaps in my chest.
“Elain?”
“Az?”
I set the menu down. “What are you doing here?”
She blushed. “I own the place.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “You still drink black coffee?”
I nodded and before I could utter another word, she walked away. I wasn’t sure what to make of this. I hadn’t seen Elain since my mother’s funeral. But she had been engaged then and everyone had gone their separate ways. When I left town… I left everyone behind, too.
Elain returned with a tray of food, setting it down in front of me. There was the black coffee, a bowl of farina with generous amounts of cinnamon and a side dish of eggs, bacon and toast. A glass of orange juice, too.
“Two sugars, right?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled, sitting down across from me.
“It’s quiet today… The weather keeps tourists away.”
“Tourists?” Anything to distract myself from the fact that she remembered what I liked to eat for breakfast and the fact that the farina tasted just like my mother used to make it.
“Well, once everyone discovered that the great Feyre Archeron lived here once, people come to visit. Mostly artists looking for whatever might have given Feyre her talent,” she said with a giggle. She still only had the one dimple when she smiled. “With the renovations, we attract all sorts of people, especially from the city. Bored rich people like to come play house at the rentals, like they can’t wipe their asses with money.”
I snorted which only made her smile.
“So, how did the old bastard trick you into coming back?”
“He had my mother’s things,” I said, taking a drink of coffee. Elain thrummed her fingers against the table. No ring, save for the gold one on her right middle finger with the blue stone. That was her birthday present when she turned fifteen. I’d worked extra hours at the shop and sold a gold chain my adoptive parents gave me one Christmas to afford it. Elain must have saw where my gaze had fallen because she brought her hands under the table.
“He left. I stayed.”
“Ah.”
“He was an asshole.”
“I agree.”
She giggled.
“How long are you here for?”
“Just the end of the day. I have to go to the bank before the last bus comes for the day.”
She looked disappointed but put on a smile.
“You can use my car. Wouldn’t want you getting stuck here.”
I wasn’t sure why that made me feel so guilty but Elain shoved her hand into her pocket and set keys on the table. The keychain was a squishy cinnamon roll. “I have to get back to work. It’s the only car back there… Usually. It’s blue.”
“Elain-”
“Finish eating and don’t you dare insult me by paying.”
I sighed, watching her get to her feet just as the door opened and a family of six walked in.
The first thing that bothered me about Elain’s blue Oldsmobile was that it was not locked. The second, was that there was no radio, the cables stuck out as if it had been stolen- which for Illyria, wouldn’t surprise me. The third was that there was no heat, which was nothing to me, but the thought of Elain driving this thing in the cold bothered me.
Her car got me to the bank at least. I didn’t have to wait long, the lawyer had called them and they’d been expecting me. My mother’s deposit box held two envelopes. One contained cash and the other, an old iron key, nothing more. I set those in my bag and got back in Elain’s car. It was starting to snow, but I had time to go back to the diner and walk to the bus stop if I wanted to.
Until Elain’s car shut down.
*
“Oh my god,” Elain shouted as I walked into the diner and rushed around the counter. “What happened?”
I probably looked like a wet dog but I was too cold to care about that.
“Your car shut down by the grocery store.”
“Shit,” she said.
“When was the last time you put gas in your car?” The fuel gauge wasn’t even working.
She blushed. “Well… I don’t really use it. I live here.”
“Here?”
“Come on. Cassian leaves some clothes here when he stays.”
“Cas stays here.” Why did that bother me so much?
“Sometimes. Rhys does, too, but Cas prefers my sofa to the bed and breakfast.”
She led me to the back of the diner and unlocked a door. Up the stairs we went and there, she unlocked another door. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” she said. Her parents had been wealthy, I remembered. They had never taken too kindly to her being friends with Cas and I, even if Rhysand’s parents had taken us in. Elain had grown up in a mansion, a mansion I’d never been allowed to go inside.
“When Cas told me the diner was going to be demolished, I bought it. But it was with my money,” she said proudly. “I refused any help from my parents… Especially after all they did to Feyre.”
“Honestly,” I said looking around the studio apartment. “This is you.”
That made her laugh. To the right was a beaten up sofa, a little table where the tv sat. A small dining table, big enough for four, took up the middle of the room where the kitchen was. And to the left, her bed was in the corner covered in a mountain of pillows and a teddy bear I remembered from high school. She had a dresser and nothing more.
“That door over there is where the washer and dryer is,” she said pointing towards the right. “The bathroom is over there. Cas has some clothes in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Just toss your clothes on the chair by the bed. I’ll wash them while you shower.”
“Left or right?” I asked.
“Hot is to the right, don’t ask me why. Oh, you can use my shampoo. I know you won’t use it all in one go like Cassian. There are clean wash clothes in one of the cubbies… Anyway, go shower before you get sick.”
Her bathroom sink was leaking, the shower head needed changing and the water drained too slow. After I got dressed, I walked out to find that Elain had gone back to work. I could hear the washer going. I don’t know what I was doing, but I started walking around her apartment, mentally cursing Cassian and Rhys. Her dining table was uneven on one leg. Two of the chairs were broken and held together by faith- as my mother would say. The kitchen sink didn’t even work and the light bulb in the ceiling fan was going to go out soon. I tried to charge my phone but I couldn’t find a single working outlet without disconnecting her tv, which I didn’t want to do. After I set the clothes to dry, I checked the cabinets, the windows. Some needed oil. Her locks needed replacing.
The door opened as I was looking in the rather empty fridge and I found Elain walking in with Lucien Vanserra, of all people. He smirked when he saw me, and I felt an undeserved jealousy at how close he stood beside her. Lucien had always had a thing for Elain, which I couldn’t blame him for.
“Az, Lucien went and got the car.”
“It was nothing,” he said with a shrug. “But Vassa is waiting for me downstairs.”
“Thanks,” she said, looking at him sheepishly.
“Anything for you, Elain.” He kissed her forehead then looked at me. “Az.”
“Vanserra.”
He nodded and left with a smirk. Elain let out a long sigh.
“I didn’t want to call him but… Lucien owns almost everything in town. He really didn’t have to drive it over here himself but Vassa was craving apple pie so I had Nuala send them home with two.”
“Nuala?”
“Oh, yeah. She’s in the kitchen. We work together.”
“That’s… I’m glad you’re not alone.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “I have to finish up downstairs, but once you’re ready to go, I’ll drive you. If you need to charge your phone, there’s an outlet by my bed.”
I nodded, not wanting to admit that I’d spent all this time looking for a working outlet. She smiled and walked out, leaving me alone to wait.
*
The drive to the bus stop was quiet, Elain humming to herself and cursing whenever she hit a bump in the road. She had handed me a bagged lunch which I put in my backpack at her insistence. She insisted on waiting with me for the bus, too.
“It was really nice seeing you,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry about the car.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“All the same.”
“It was nice seeing you, too.”
The bus came in to view and we both rose to our feet. Once, she would have hugged me so tight I’d break a rib. But I wasn’t sure I was allowed that anymore, if I even deserved it.
“Don’t be such a stranger, Az.”
“I’ll try.”
She put her hands in her pockets, reminding me of Rhys.
“Let me know when you get home?”
“Yeah, sure.”
The bus stopped in front of us.
“Bye, Az.”
“Bye, El.”
Fighting the urge to hug her goodbye, I got on the bus. I found an empty sit and sat down. When the bus drove away, I looked back. Elain was still standing there. 
.
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So I wrote this last month and never finished it. But with Reyes coming up (Three King’s Day) I just figured- what the hell. I’m a sucker for Hallmark and that “small town girl goes back home and falls in love with boy from said town” trope is my jam but I switched it. Being Puerto Rican, Christmas ends in the middle of January so I wanted to toss that in, too. My family is from a town called Fajardo in Puerto Rico, I lived in the mountains (just like our favorite bat boys).
hijo’e puta is the “improper” way to pronounce son of a bitch back home lol native speakers take out some of the letters sometimes. in this case, the ‘d’ in de which means of. 
Madrastra means step mother. 
Farina is cream of wheat? Idk. But it’s my favorite thing ever for breakfast. My grandma makes it with hella sugar and cinnamon. They make it every morning with coffee on the side and basically it’s sometimes the “first” breakfast. (at least in my family)
I have NO idea what to name this thing. So I’ll just name the chapters. 
Happy Holidays!!!
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