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witch-and-her-witcher · 3 hours

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That Single Thread of Gold [ Elucien ]

Prompt: Inspired by @eospaint lovely elucien piece here. I went a little nuts in the tags of it but then couldn't contain it and had to write this little fic! I love writing elucien being caught up in their awkward feelings stage. I hope you enjoy! | AO3

He told himself it was for the best if he didn't see her this time. It was almost always awkward. Tense. Lucien could do without the stress of their uncomfortable interactions this visit; he was here to see Feyre, after all. He had given Feyre enough notice that she would inform Elain and there would be no need for them to cross paths. They had no need to see each other, especially when she had clearly never expressed the desire to see him anyway.

So Lucien sat and waited in Feyre’s living room, let in by one of the twins. He sat and waited and tried not to let the crumpled pieces of his stupid heart hope. Tried not to set himself up for disappointment. His fingers drummed on his knees as he glanced towards the half open door, waiting for his friend to arrive.

Instead, her scent flooded his senses.

And then she appeared in the doorway.

Lucien didn’t know what to do with himself as she blinked at him in surprise, almost as shocked as he was that she was standing there.

Elain hadn’t even meant to stumble into the room. She knew he was coming today – Feyre had given her the heads up but – but something about her had been different today. Today felt different and she wasn’t sure why. Normally, Elain had no desire to meet him and allow herself to feel all the things she did whenever he was close. Normally, she was very good at being a coward and avoiding him.

But today…that tug of the bond had pulled her into the room before she could stop it or realize what was happening.

She stood by the door and blinked, then blinked again. Elain hadn’t even realized he was already here.

Lucien stood immediately and as anticipated, the expected awkwardness unfurled between them, quickly followed by that strained tension.

Touch. Taste. Claim.

Lucien fisted his hands by his side and instead bowed graciously, murmuring, “My lady.”

He said nothing more as his mate watched him, a muscle flexing in his jaw at her gaze, because here she was staring at him like she had no idea what to do with him and Lucien felt heat rise in his body. He swallowed, then cleared his throat and casually said, “I’m here to see Feyre. It seems she’s running a little late.”

“Oh.” is all Elain could think to reply and a flicker of emotion passed his expression quicker than she could read it. She licked her lips, her hands fisting in the folds of her dress and Elain couldn’t help but catalog every inch of him; she normally didn’t allow herself to look at him for too long and Elain wasn’t sure what it was this time around compelling her to take him in.

Was it because it had been a while since she’d seen him? Was it the lack of sleep? Was it the thread of gold that chafed at her whenever he was in the general vicinity? He always seemed to handle himself so well around her despite what Elain had heard about the mating bond doing to males; he always handled himself so well.

She wished he’d yell at her, if only once. So she had a reason to actually avoid him. So she had a reason to resist him, to be justified in cowering.

But no. He was always so polite.

Realizing a few moments had passed and she hadn’t said anything, Elain cleared her throat and said, “I’m not sure when Feyre will be back.”

Lucien tried not to fidget beneath her gaze despite the urge to shift on his feet. She’d never looked at him so directly before. It was unnerving him but Lucien didn’t let himself hope. He squashed down any possible emotions he could feel and instead nodded. “I understand. I’ll take my leave then.” he said and gave her a thin smile. “She knows where to find me.”

He didn’t allow himself another word and instead, took a step aiming to leave but – but then Elain took a step towards him and he froze.

All her senses went on high alert as Elain realized that she too had paused in that half step. A half step she had taken towards him before – long ago. Her eyes widened slightly and she watched as Lucien’s brows furrowed, his body strained as her pulse quickened beneath her skin, her heart pounding.

Lucien tilted his head, straightening, her reaction confusing him. “Is there something else I can help you with?” he asked tightly.

And it was Elain’s turn to swallow because she didn’t know. Was there something else he could help her with? She hadn’t been alone with him in – in a long while. She had made sure of it.

She went out of her way not to actively think about him, not to have him in her mind so he wouldn’t follow her in her dreams the way he did anyway on so many nights. But now he was here standing in front of her and she wasn't sure what to do with him.

Her pulse was fluttering and Elain wanted to be angry with him even though none of this was really his fault. She wanted to be mean to him even though he didn’t deserve it. She just wanted someone who sees how wretched she feels about it all. She wanted someone to see behind her stupid fake smiles and her distance from him. She wanted someone to understand why.

And the longer she stood staring at him, the more Lucien seemed to read her mind. That single thread of gold between them…he seemed to understand the whirlwind of feelings she was battling and his expression softened for a moment. Like he really did see.

Elain almost hated that even more but she wasn’t even sure why and the thought threatened to release tears she had no business showing in front of him. Her bottom lip trembled for a breath before she straightened and shook her head.

Lucien stood still for a moment then forced himself to take a step then another until he stood in front of her and slowly, held out his hand. Then waited.

Because he could feel her. He could hear her heart and Lucien couldn’t stop himself from trying to bring her comfort in some way. The instincts beneath his skin wouldn't let him walk away when he knew his mate was on the verge of tears, even when Lucien had no idea if he was the reason for them.

This fae life – this mating bond had been thrust on her and the way she had been pretending to adjust since then was one of the main reasons he never pushed. He felt her confusion, her inner turmoil. He knew what it was like to swallow it all and play pretend. The least he could do was allow himself to be the guiding light through the dark for her. Even if he wasn’t sure she’d want that from him. Lucien couldn’t help but offer.

Elain glanced down at his hand and she felt her throat tighten. They didn’t touch. They rarely even stood so close. Did she want to touch him? She didn’t know what his skin felt like but in her dreams – in her sleep she wondered – she felt like she knew –

Before she could let herself doubt any further and even as the battle of emotions threatened to swallow her whole, Elain couldn’t help but slowly, carefully slide her hand in his.

And it felt – it felt –

Elain felt herself take a breath. She waited for the discomfort. For the prickling anxiety that usually haunted her. For the wretchedness to snap at her heels.

But his hand was softer than she imagined. Strong, calloused – a warrior’s hand but – it didn’t feel bad at all. It felt…better than expected. It was gentle. Warm.

She glanced at him then away, suddenly embarrassed and truly not sure what to do with herself. He was so patient and it only made her feel so much worse about herself. She owed him nothing and he owed her nothing and yet…

Lucien only held out his other hand and Elain met his gaze as he gave her a small knowing smile.

Elain’s throat bobbed and even as she slid her other hand into his, she whispered, “Why?”

The simple question seemed to make Lucien’s shoulders sag because even to Elain, her one question asked about a hundred more. Why was he still here? Why did he still try with her? Why did she hesitate to even speak with him? Why did she hide?

Why? Why? Why?

“Because you looked like you needed some comfort.” he said quietly and shrugged. “And I know what it’s like to need a steady hand.”

And it was like he’d snatched the breath from her throat.

Had her sisters been right about what a mating bond could do for those blessed with one? About what her mate could do for her? Was it indeed a blessing then? Had she really only been hurting herself with her distance? She had only slid her hand in his, touching him so very lightly and yet…with this simple touch, Elain had found herself willing to stand in this room with him a little longer.

“A steady hand?” she repeated softly and the brush of his thumb against the back of her hand seemed involuntary.

“A steady hand and a good friend make all the difference.” he said and hoped his yearning wasn’t too obvious as she met his gaze again.

“A good friend?” she repeated once more and the corner of his mouth lifted, the movement highlighting his scar as he nodded.

“Indeed.”

A friend.

The thought seemed to hit Elain so suddenly and the sheer longing of it almost overwhelmed her.

A friend.

She needed one more than she could put into words and Elain could only stare at her mate. The rapid beating of her heart seemed so loud in the silence between them but for once, it was a comfortable silence.

Comfortable enough that Elain found herself asking so very quietly as roses bloomed on her cheeks, “Do you happen to know any good friends available?”

His lips twitched and Lucien was sure the rapid beating of his own heart now matched hers as he answered in that same quiet tone, “I daresay, I have the perfect person in mind.”

#oh god this is so lovely 🥹#elucien #acotar #acotar fanfic

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witch-and-her-witcher · 9 hours

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Elain and Lucien accepting the bond. I know Elain would bake something special. 🍰

Honeyypears created this beautiful art for me and I am so thrilled with it! She was so lovely to work with and it's just what I imagined.

art by @/honeyypears on Instagram

commission by me

#this is so hot!!!!#elucien #acotar #acotar fanart

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witch-and-her-witcher · 9 hours

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Which are you for?

Team Elain x Lucien x Azriel

Team Elain x Lucien x Tamlin 👀

The NSFW versions are up on my Patreon 💖

#cant decide 😍#eltamcien #eluzriel #acotar #acotar fanart

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witch-and-her-witcher · 12 hours

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Tamlin mermaid and Lulu🧜🏻‍♂️🥀

#stunning #tamcien #acotar #acotar fanart

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witch-and-her-witcher · 14 hours

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Now I'm picturing him chasing young Nyx around with a lint roller ...

Rhys is always using the ultimate Parent Move of the thumb lick to clean Nyx's face or fix a fly away hair.

#its not the sleepless nights thay test rhys as a father #its the disorderliness of it all

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witch-and-her-witcher · 16 hours

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Rhys is always using the ultimate Parent Move of the thumb lick to clean Nyx's face or fix a fly away hair.

#sorry i think about this little family entirely too much #and rhys is part cat #rhys loves taking care of his people #acotar

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witch-and-her-witcher · 19 hours

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LB, don’t tell me you’re thinking of a Feysand Princess Bride AU (please tell me you’re thinking of this AU). You have enough WIPs on your plate (do it! Do it!).

hahahaha you're right anon, I do have enough WIPs on my plate! I'm not planning on starting a Princess Bride AU any time soon 😂 buuuuut if you're interested in an Elucien Princess Bride AU boy do I have the recommendation for you 👀👀

My lovely, brilliant friend @wilde-knight has been working on a Burnished Gold and deserves a million forehead smooches for it!

#oh yes #this fic is delish #the vibes are immaculate and the emotions are deep and nuanced #elucien #acotar #acotar fanfic

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witch-and-her-witcher · 1 day

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sorry for being a cunt sometimes it’s just that i am one

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witch-and-her-witcher · 1 day

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Snippet Below 👇

"Fuck." The red-head pants out, using his index and middle finger to rub the sore spot on his lower spine—his lumbar vertebrae. Since introducing new fighting styles to his armies his muscles have been overworked alongside his brain.

"You're overdoing it." A rough voice says from behind him.

Eris jolts out of the bed—instantly regretting the choice of movement as he nearly falls over from the pain in his back—staring at the man now in his personal chambers. "What are you doing in here?" He snaps at the General, confused on how the man managed to slip past the ancient wards.

"I was here on courtier duty," Cassian steps closer to the slightly smaller male. "But considering my mate is in pain I would like to help him."

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55571428

Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1442356652-𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞-𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐬-𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚-𝐱-𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧

#digging the vibes #casris #acotar #acotar fanfic

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witch-and-her-witcher · 1 day

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Truth or Dare

T | 968 Words | One-shot

Lucien & Feyre take a little breather from all of life's difficulties and play a game aka the Feycien Bromance one

Read on AO3 here 🧡🍁🍂

#god i love this #feycien #acotar #acotar fanfic

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witch-and-her-witcher · 1 day

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I have a story to tell you. Really, what is it about? BROTHER BEAR (2003) dir. Aaron Blaise & Robert Walker

#okay but this scene #brother bear

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witch-and-her-witcher · 1 day

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Mor: better watch out with nesta, cass.

Cassian: why, because of the unknown death magic or ...?

Mor: no. because once she sits on your face, she legally owns you. squatters rights and all.

Cassian: ....

Az: y'know, she's got a point there.

#az and mor wait to see how long it takes for cass to ask clotho for a copy of velaris property laws #and die laughing #acotar #shit post #mildly nsfw #nessian

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witch-and-her-witcher · 1 day

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Gwynlain fic idea (mod or canonverse):

Gwyn has been pining after her neighbor for months with her plant filled terrace, freckled smile when they bump into each other at rhe mailbox, and the constant smell of baked goods coming from her open sliding glass door. When Elain first asks Gwyn to come over to fix her shower head, she assumes she's just taking advantage of the tall, lesbian next door like any drop dead gorgeous girl with a smile like that would.

But Elain keeps having issues that Gwyn has the tools for, and besides, every time she comes over, she leaves with her belly so full from the delicious plate of food Elain prepares her as a thank you, how can she even grouse this is what they have a maintenence person in the building for?

Finally, after weeks of these ongoing repair jobs, Elain corners Gwyn at her front door after she's just gotten back from the gym, demanding to know why Gwyn hasn't asked her out yet and if it's her cooking or she's just not her type - what is it???

Gwyn is thankful she's already red and sweaty from leg day to cover up her blush as she stumbles through, "No - I mean, yes! You're my cooking - I mean, my type, yes!"

#the gwynlain brainrot is real #gwynlain #gwyn x elain #wlw #acotar #acotar fanfic #concept #my writing

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witch-and-her-witcher · 2 days

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I present to you: the dream beta rotation.

#for when you write too fucking much so you have a kick ass beta for specific ships or genres #so no one is over asked #i love all of you 😭❤️

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witch-and-her-witcher · 2 days

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Want to write the reverse of your wlw nessian drabble where cas doesn’t realize she’s gay yet but nesta thinks cas stares at her boobs a little too much to be straight

hell yeah I do. hope y’all enjoy this one and happy @nestaarcheronweek day 4 🩷 got the title from tangerine by kehlani hehe

Read on AO3 here!

“Are you going to keep staring down my shirt, or can we get this presentation done?”

Cass startled so badly at Nesta’s words that she nearly knocked over her water, only barely managing to catch the reusable bottle at the last second. “What?”

Cass and Nesta had been paired up as partners for their advanced writing requirement course, and they’d been making steady progress on their presentation in one of the library’s group study rooms. Cass was an education major to Nesta’s political science, and Cass had never been so excited for a group project in her life.

At least, until Nesta had shown up to the library wearing that shirt. It was just a simple, blue, wrap-tie shirt, but between the way it made Nesta’s eyes look even bluer than usual and the way it perfectly cupped her breasts, Cass was having a difficult time staying focused on the task at hand.

“Sorry,” Cass said, hoping her face wasn’t as red as it felt from being called out. She’d thought she was being more discreet, but Nesta had clearly proved that theory wrong. “I was just, uh, zoned out.”

“Were you zoned out the other three times, too?” Nesta fired back without missing a beat.

“I…” Cass trailed off, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound insane. “I just think your shirt is really… cute.��

Nesta Archeron was easily one of the most gorgeous women that Cass had ever seen. With her gray-blue eyes, bronze hair, and amazing fashion sense, Cass spent most of her time wanting to be just like Nesta. Granted, Cass was way too much of a tomboy to pull off even a quarter of Nesta’s wardrobe, but a woman could dream, right? And who better to dream about that Nesta Archeron, especially when she had on a shirt like that?

“Right,” Nesta replied with the most deadpan voice Cass had ever heard. She sighed heavily before shutting her laptop altogether, fixing Cass with a slightly incredulous look. “Are you ever going to get your shit together and ask me out?”

“What?” Cass blurted out, all the blood in her body rushing to her cheeks. God, she hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “I don’t—”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Cass, I can do this assignment in my sleep. I just wanted to make sure my gaydar was working.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cass answered. Okay, maybe sometimes she found herself staring way longer than she should’ve when it came to pretty women, but that was just… what everyone did. That didn’t mean she was anything more than a strong ally, no matter how many times she cringed when a man came near her.

“Don’t you?” Nesta asked, cocking an eyebrow. She leaned forward, a victorious little smirk gracing her lips as Cass’ eyes immediately tracked the motion. “Well that’s a yes.”

“It’s not my fault you have a great rack,” Cass blurted out, her brain to mouth filter evaporating altogether.

Nesta snorted. “I’m not making you look at it.”

“If I wasn’t looking, I’d have to be dead,” Cass muttered.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Nesta retorted with a roll of her eyes.

Before Cass could think of a proper reply — Nesta thought she was pretty? — Nesta reached out and grabbed a hold of Cass’ chair, pulling her own so close that there was no room to escape. Not that Cass was feeling particularly inclined to do that, anyway. It was dizzying having Nesta so close; she was pinned under that icy gaze and couldn’t back away even if she wanted to.

Cass didn’t want to.

“I’m going to finish this assignment when I get home,” Nesta said, her voice low and offering no argument. “Give you some time to think about… things.”

“Think about what?” Cass said back. She was hardly breathing as Nesta leaned in even closer, placing her hand on the chair in between Cass’ thighs for balance.

Nesta was close enough now that it would’ve been easy for Cass to lean in and kiss her, and find out if her lips were as soft as they looked. Cass’ lips parted in anticipation, every thought in her mind besides Nesta emptying out like they’d never been there at all, and she was torn between leaning forward to kiss her or letting Nesta continue to order Cass around like she owned her.

What the hell was wrong with her?

“That’s what I thought,” Nesta breathed after a few moments, her lips still dangerously close to Cass’ own. When Nesta laughed quietly at Cass’ reflexive frown, Cass could almost feel the vibrations on her lips, and God wasn’t that a thought. “You’re taking me to dinner tonight.”

“I— okay,” Cass agreed. God, she hoped she didn’t sound as dumbstruck as she felt; Nesta didn’t suffer fools, and Cass wasn’t trying to be one. “Whatever you want.”

Nesta finally leaned forward to press a kiss to Cass’ cheek, pulling back with a smirk. “I think we’ll get along just fine. See you later.”

Cass watched Nesta grab her things and saunter out of the room, the only thought in her head I love when women…

Well. At least one woman, that was for damn sure.

#TBR #idk how i missed this but I am SALIVATING #nessian #acotar #acotar fanfic

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witch-and-her-witcher · 2 days

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Solstice Gifts

Baby's first Feysand! | Ao3

[Feyre loves buying Solstice gifts for her family, but this year she might have been outdone.]

Eternal thank yous and forehead kisses to @tunaababee @cauldronblssd and @witch-and-her-witcher for just being the most wonderful humans and beta reading and encouraging me to post this.

Solstice in Velaris was the most lovely time of year, and no matter how much time Feyre spent here, she doubted she’d ever grow tired of it.

The snowy streets were covered in faelights, all twisted into beautiful shapes and hanging from the signs and light posts. There were long strings of them criss-crossing over The Rainbow and casting all the snow and shops in an ethereal glow. Complex smells of cinnamon, clove, freshly baked breads, rosemary, and mulled ciders cascaded from the storefronts, their windows decked in boughs of holly and fir and their doors hung with mistletoe.

Feyre was hurrying back to the River House, late as usual, with the last of her gifts.

She’d been mostly organized this year, but Nesta’s gift had ended up taking longer than expected, and of course today was the first time she’d been able to sneak off to grab the little Illyrian leathers with space for wings that would fit an almost-four year old.

She’d gone a little overboard on gifts this year, but it was hard to not spoil those she loved now that she had the means. Old habits die hard, and she too-vividly remembered the years that she and her sisters had stoically ignored the Solstice happening at all, not even a candle lit in the windows to be spared. So now, when things had changed so vastly in the last seven years, she would fully use every bit of means at her disposal to shower everyone with gifts they would love.

Nyx was six now, somehow, the years flying by in a rush that she tried and failed to stop like grabbing whitewater in her hands. Rhysand reassured her constantly, a laugh on his lips, that though time was flying, they still had centuries together, and there was no need to beg for more. Another thing she had trouble letting go of in her immortality–the idea that things were good now, and there was no time limit on it. Things could be happy and productive and peaceful like this for centuries more. But Feyre still had trouble allowing hope for good things to bloom in her heart, despite feeling beyond blessed in all ways.

She shuffled the bags in her arms–she’d had to stop for some last-minute pastries, too. What good was a solstice birthday if she couldn’t eat whatever she wanted? The smells on the way to the leather-smith had been too good to resist, and she was crazed for the pistachio croissants with the bergamot filling that the bakery beside Rita’s had this time of year.

She quietly snuck the front door open, hoping to slip in quietly and unnoticed by her houseguests. Mor, draped in her normal gorgeous finery, strode through the foyer, lifting a brow that surely must be genetic, and before tipping her head back to laugh at Feyre.

“You’re just as bad as Rhys, you know? I saw him coming back not twenty minutes ago.”

Rhys, that weasel.

Feyre wondered what he’d been off plundering after amusedly lecturing her this morning about sneaking out last minute for more presents. She ran the bags upstairs, ditched her coat, and wrapped the leathers quickly in the celebratory packaging she’d picked up last month in their guest bedroom before scurrying back down the stairs. She’d arrived just in time, everyone present in the sitting room as Nuala and Cerridwen announced the dinner was ready. Luckily, she’d had the foresight to prepare before going to grab the gifts, her long midnight-blue dress swaying luxuriously around her feet, the gossamer sleeves like a soft embrace along her arms. She’d definitely gotten used to wearing pretty clothes in the time she’d spent in Velaris, though most days, she still dressed for comfort. She’d left her hair down and lightly curled, compulsively tucking a strand behind her ear as she entered the dining room. Elain had helped prepare the Solstice meal and cake, as she insisted she do every year, and Feyre had to admit it all looked mouthwatering, as always.

Rhys pulled her seat out for her as she walked up, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head as he pushed her in.

“Last minute shopping go well?” He murmured against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine and goosebumps down her arms. He knew it, too, and she turned to scrunch her nose at him as he laughed.

“I hear you’re one to talk, hypocrite.” He held his hand to his chest feigning offense, then sent her an absolutely world-shattering smile as he moved to take his place.

A crash in the hall sent Feyre’s eyes to the doors, followed by Nesta’s bellowing.

“Hey! Wings closed indoors! You know the rules.” Giggles abound as Nyx and Aife came into the room, leaning into each other and cackling as they took their seats. They were only two years apart and thick as thieves. Though Nesta and Feyre would never admit it aloud, seeing their children close as they’d never had the opportunity to be as children had healed something between the two of them that had once felt depthless.

Nyx pushed midnight-black hair from his eyes as he looked to Feyre.

“Mom, can we go play with our presents after we open them tonight? I promise I’ll go straight to bed after.”

“I don’t see why not. Nesta, are you all staying the night tonight?” Nesta looked to Cassian and nodded.

“I think so. Aife and Nyx are going to be here all day tomorrow anyway during the snowball fight. We might as well.” She gave a pointed look to Cassian, who grinned wolfishly. Feyre could hear Aife whispering to Nyx.

“Who’s going to win this year?”

“Uncle Az. It’s always Uncle Az. He says our dads are old now.” They both giggled and Feyre cracked a smile, shooting the conversation down the bond to Rhys, whose eyebrows lifted as he shot her an amused smile as if to say we’ll see.

They tucked into the great feast, a large roast the centerpiece, surrounded by offerings of ham and turkey and too many sides to reasonably name. Feyre loaded her plate with the most buttery mashed potatoes she’d ever tasted, one of Elain’s specialities that Feyre always requested for special occasions, as well as a basil and tomato tart, baked to crisp perfection by Nuala.

She remembered a time when she’d hated her birthday, and while she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with all the attention, she surely would celebrate now if only for the delicious foods she got to have. She couldn’t beat the company either, her blood and chosen family all seated around the table, laughing and loving and enjoying themselves in her home. A decade ago, she would have laughed in the face of anyone who’d tried to describe this possibility, and it wasn’t lost on her how much luck and fate had stepped in to make things as they were.

Stuffed to the brim and with the gift exchange behind them, Feyre slumped onto the couch. The kids had been spoiled beyond reason, the piles of gifts higher than the chairs surrounding them.

Nyx and Aife had begged Az, Cass, and Lucien to bring them outside to practice with the new bow and arrow sets, courtesy of Elain and Lucien’s recent trip to the Day Court. As the official “Uncle Troupe”, as they’d so ridiculously named themselves, they felt it would have been in poor taste to decline. Feyre pulled her feet up onto the couch and laid her head back. It had been a busy few months, though things were finally, blessedly beginning to smooth out. They’d been able to delegate a bit more recently, and it certainly helped their workload.

Elain had gone back to the kitchens to help clean up and exchange gifts with the twins before they took off for the evening, leaving Feyre to relax for a bit while Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, and Mor sat at the table with sweets and coffees chatting. Amren and Varian had skipped the party this year in favor of a trip to Summer, as they now alternated holidays between courts. While she’d never taunt Amren to her face about it, Feyre secretly loved how domesticated she’d become in the time she’d known her, settling down while still claiming that ancient power hummed through her veins.

She felt Rhys sit down by her feet, his presence always noted by her magic immediately twining with his. At any given time, she could feel where he was, the power soaring back and forth between them like a current. The depth of love between them was fathomless and deep, and she’d never quite get over the fact that she had him all to herself, hers and hers alone, for the rest of her life.

He picked her feet up in his hands, shuffling them over to his lap and giving them a squeeze.

“Tired, darling?” His voice was a low rumble as he leaned against the back of the couch, settling in.

“Exhausted. I love the holidays, but I would also love a solid two days of sleep.” He laughed, his smile lighting up the room as she lifted her head to peek at him. “Did you enjoy your Solstice gifts?”

She’d bought him a device she’d found at one of the shops in Day Court on a summer visit to Elain and Lucien months ago. Duty had them back and forth between courts now, and Feyre couldn’t deny the love she had for any excuse to get to the shimmering beaches of Day. She’d found it nestled in the back of a tinkerer’s store–a handheld device that rolled over clothes, enchanted to remain sticky, and pulled any lint or fuzz from them.

“It’s only my favorite thing I’ve ever owned,” Rhys quipped immediately. She laughed, closing her eyes again and poking him in the side with her toe. He gripped it in his hands and threatened to tickle her. “How about you, love? Get everything you wanted?” Feyre paused, but didn’t open her eyes. She should say yes. She should feel like she had everything she wanted, but there was just one thing missing, and unfortunately it was something she couldn’t have.

“Hey lovebirds, we’re heading out!” Mor called across the room, her arm around Emerie’s.

Feyre sat up to say goodbye. “So early?”

Mor chuckled and Emerie elbowed her in the ribs. “Solstice plans of our own,” Mor said, waggling her brows at Rhys and giggling as he rubbed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh.

“Alright, then.” He slapped his palms on his thighs, laughing and ending the conversation as Emerie blushed about ten shades of red, still not quite used to the way this family spoke so openly about things. Feyre stood to hug them both.

“We’re so glad you came. Feel free to drop in any time tomorrow. We’ll be here all day.”

Gwyn and Nesta had gone to join their mates and the children out on the illuminated training ring in the yard, leaving Feyre to slip back down onto the couch, this time scooting closer to Rhys and leaning her body against his. He was always so warm and solid, her touchstone in times both trying and lovely. He always smelled like oranges and the sea–the smell of Velaris, of home, tied intrinsically with his. She nuzzled closer, his arm finding its way around her waist as he settled too.

“Everything okay, darling?”

She hummed noncommittally. She hated that even with all this joy, all these gifts, all this family, she still couldn't shake the thought that something was missing, incomplete.

“Can you believe this is Nyx’s sixth Solstice?” She felt Rhys soften beneath her, realization creeping down the bond from his end, followed by a burst of soothing love and affection.

“He's incredible, isn't he? What are we going to do when he learns how to use that bow accurately?” She laughed.

“Truly, it's the inaccurate use I'm more worried about.” His breath ghosted her ear as he chuckled, sending those light shivers scurrying back along her spine.

Things got quiet, then. She knew it would take very little for Rhys to understand what she was thinking, if he didn't already intrinsically know. Even without the bond, even without the daemati powers, there was really a moment he wasn't able to read her like a wide open book.

“He's so big now…” she let her voice drift off, trying to hide the hurt in it and failing miserably. As always Rhys filled in the gaps.

“He’s wonderful. We made a really wonderful child, Feyre. He’s everything I never even dared to hope for for myself. I never thought such joy was possible for someone like me. You know that he’s the greatest gift you ever could have given me, right?” She felt the tears burning behind her eyes, and she took in a deep breath as she felt him press a kiss to her temple.

“I know.” Her voice was just a wobbly whisper, quiet in the room.

“And if he’s the only one we ever have, it’s more than enough for me. I need to know you know that, Feyre.” She nodded furiously, the big tears slipping down her cheeks now, burning hot tracks as they descended.

“I can’t even explain it. It just feels like someone else should be here.” He pulled her tightly against him, resting his chin on her shoulder and rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

“And maybe, someday, they will be. But if the three of us are all we ever have, it’s more than enough. It’s everything to me.” She couldn’t hold back the sobs then, turning to bury her face in his chest as she cried.

It had been two years since they’d decided things had evened out enough that another child was even an option for them. They’d been casual about it at first, enjoying themselves and giggling in the dark under covers as they talked about the possibilities of the future. She missed Nyx’s tufts of baby curls, that new infant smell that seemed to cling to him always then faded abruptly away after he hit one year. She missed the snuggles and the closeness, and her heart ached to watch how wonderful he was with his cousin without knowing if she’d ever be able to give him that gift as a big brother.

Realistically, she knew all the logic. It could take fae decades to have a child. It wasn’t always going to be as quick as it had been with Nyx. He’d come quickly, but the consequences, as everyone remembered, had been disastrous and near-fatal. She’d never even considered the possibility of it being a problem again when Nesta informed her she’d changed their anatomy, but she’d never considered that she might be the one having the problem. Part of her wondered if the absolute massacre of her body bringing Nyx into the world was responsible–her tissue mangled and her blood spilt and her spirit eking into the ether, only to be yanked back and mended together at the last possible second. Could it have damaged her irreparably, the anatomy be damned?

“Nothing is your fault, love. Not one bit of it.” He held her to his chest as her cries subsided. “And it’s okay to be upset about this. You don’t have to hold everything in all the time. There are no prizes for stoicism.” She snorted at him, and he huffed amusedly at her.

“Pot, meet kettle,” she shot back wetly. He smiled softly as she sat back to look at him, a little of the life returning to her as well.

“You’re a lovely mother, and our boy thinks you’ve hung the stars and moon above Velaris, even if he is getting old enough to wield a weapon. A little sibling won’t ever change that. Plus, I get the impression Aife isn’t going to be his only cousin.” She sighed, nodding, as he wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“It’s just hard not to feel like I’ve done something wrong. I know how badly you want another, how badly I do. It’s hard not to wonder.” He took his hands in hers.

“I meant it when I told you that you and Nyx, you are the gifts. Our family is absolutely lovely the way it is now. If we’re meant to grow it one day, we will, and if we aren’t, believe me when I tell you I am absolutely over the moon for the way things are now.” She couldn’t help but kiss him then, the stars reflecting in his violet eyes taking her breath away, as they always did. “Plus, I never mind practicing with you.” She smacked him across the chest as he grinned broadly and wickedly at her, hauling her into his lap in response as she yelped.

If anything, Rhys knew how to chase away her tears better than anyone else ever had or would.

Just then, the parlor doors opened and Elain stepped through.

“Oh, just the two I was looking for! I’ve got one last gift for you both, but I wanted to wait until the right moment.” She ducked back through the doors momentarily, reappearing with a small, neatly wrapped parcel as they stood. She flounced lightly up to them, setting the little bundle wrapped in delicate yellow paper in Rhys’s hands.

“Elain, you didn’t need to get us anything else. You already gave us such lovely gifts and you made dinner.” Elain blushed, still the demure lady after all this time.

“Consider it a double gift.” She whispered as she leaned in conspiratorially. Rhys pulled back the paper and pulled out the tiniest, knitted pink blanket.

One beat, two. The silence hung in the room as Elain smiled wide.

“I just saw last week, but I wanted to make you something to let you know in a way that was special.”

Feyre’s hands shot to her stomach, and Rhys began to cry, turning to her and holding her close while still looking at Elain.

“Now?” Feyre asked, incredulously.

“Probably only about a month along.” Elain smiled again. “I knew with the wings and everything last time, you’d want to get in to see Madja as early as possible.”

Feyre was sobbing into Rhys’s chest again, his tears dripping down into her hair. Feyre felt him reach out to Elain and pull her into the embrace.

“Thank you, Elain. Thank you so much.” She pulled back, laughing lightly again.

“I’ll leave you both to it then. I gotta get little lady’s cousin and uncle home safely.” She put a hand to her own stomach, winked, and went towards the back to grab Lucien before Feyre and Rhys could even register her news. He grabbed her face in his hands, pressing kisses to every inch of her face.

“I love you, more than anything.” Feyre laughed, the sound breathless and airy. She couldn’t take her hands off her stomach, the joy pulsing through her veins with every beat of her heart.

A daughter.

“I have one more gift for you, too, actually.” He reached into his back pocket to withdraw a small, navy velvet box, pressing it gently into her hands.

Her eyes shot to his. “You didn’t need to get me something else.”

“Open it.” His smile was wide open, his entire heart spelled across his face like stars across the night sky.

Feyre cracked open the box and couldn’t help the flood of tears that began anew. Nestled in the soft velvet was a silver necklace, a charm of a large crescent moon with two small stars dangling down off of it.

“You knew?”

“I suspected.” He smiled. “You’ve been getting those pistachio pastries all week that you liked so much last time. I figured it couldn’t hurt to be prepared with one more last minute gift.” She took it out, turning to let him put it on her. He let his hands graze across her neck as he dropped them while she turned in his arms.

“Beautiful.” He murmured, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Thank you, Rhys. I love it. It’s been the best Solstice ever.” Her smile was broad and teary, but she felt the joy all the way down to the very fibers of her immortal heart.

“Thank you, Feyre. For all of it.”

And nothing in all of Velaris could hold a candle to the joy radiating back and forth down the bond between them in that moment as their lips met quietly again this Solstice.

#this is so freaking cute and cozy #its a rainy cold day here and this is PERFECTION to read today ❤️#be ready to brush the fluff from your teeth after this is so tooth rotting and i LOVE IT #feysand #acotar #acotar fanfic

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