chairofchaos

[chairofchaos]

@ninthcircleofprythian this is the other reason he wears reading glasses. I love this headcanon so much 😭

Do you think Lucien had a lazy eye when he first got the metal eye? Like had to learn how to use it and such? I think it would be funny. Him in the process of learning how to use it, and Tamlin just hits him with a 'use both your eyes, Luc' in the middle of dinner

#lucien acotar #lucien #lucien vanserra #tamlin #tamlin acotar

[chairofchaos]

Icing Is The Spice Of Life

Lucien Vanserra x Elain Archeron

Word Count - 1.9k

Author's Note - pure sweet (haha) fluff of my Elucien babies.

Warnings - implied smut at the end, some fun little sexual tension throughout.

“Elain, sweetheart?” Lucien called from the hall as he made his way to the kitchen. “Did you order something to be delivered? There’s a delivery cart that's been sitting outside the back gate for the last hour.”

The answer was evident before her reply could even be uttered. Walking through the kitchen door, Lucien took in the chaos that was occurring. Crates were stacked along the wall. The table was overflowing with sacks of flour and sugar and various nuts. Elain stood in the middle of the room holding a crate of butter as she nodded to the delivery driver.

“Um, just set that over there I suppose,” she muttered. Her worried look grew deeper as she calculated the mess around her. 

“What is all this?,” Lucien breathed out as he spun in a circle in the middle of the now cramped kitchen. 

“Well…,” Elain began sheepishly. “I may have slightly over-committed on promising holiday cookies to our friends and family.”

Lucien quirked his brow as a sly smile spread across his face. “Over-committed might be an understatement.”

“I know,” Elain wailed pathetically. “Its just that -”

With a quick hand in the air, Lucien stopped her protest. “It’s fine, my sweet. Not to worry.” Turning again on the spot he stood, he gathered his surroundings once more. “We just need a plan.”

“We?” Elain squeaked as the crate of butter sagged against her legs. “You’re going to help me?”

“Of course I am,” he stated matter of factly. “They are my friends and family too aren’t they?”

Before she could utter another word he swept over and grabbed the crate from her hands, planting a tender kiss to her forehead as he did. “I’ll take this down to cold storage for now. Tell him to leave the rest just outside the door and I’ll handle it from there.”

A few minutes later, his steps echoed up the cellar stairs. Elain had donned her well worn apron and was struggling to drag a heavy sack of sugar from the kitchen door. 

“Leave it,” Lucien said as he slipped his hands over her hips. The soft command of his voice caused her to shiver as she stood. Slipping past her, he made his way over to the small wooden table below the kitchen window. He paused for just a moment as he rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbow. In one quick movement he bent at the waist and swung two large sacks of flour and sugar over his shoulders. Depositing them along the wall with the others, he spun to face his mate, hands already gathering his long hair back from his face. 

“A pen and paper if you will, my sweet.” Hair tied back and out of the way, he began to pat at his shirt front pocket. “And my -”

Elain’s hand popped from her apron pocket before he could finish his request, handing over the folded reading glasses. He left them everywhere; laid upon books, on top of his desk, on side tables, yet hardly ever where he needed them at the moment. It was just one of those things she did, gathering them up through her day and sticking them in her pocket. A quick dig through the kitchen drawer and she then also handed over a pen and notepad. 

“Ah, thank you.” Lucien settled himself into the chair at the now empty table, sliding his glasses over his nose. “I’ll need the recipes of all the cookies you planned on making,” he said as he peered over his glasses at her. 

Turning toward the counter, Elain grabbed her recipe box and thumbed out all the cards she had already set to the front and handed them over. 

“And what should I do now?,” she giggled. The sight of him peering over his glasses never failed to send her heart into a flutter.

“Have a seat. Relax for a bit,” he smiled at her. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day on your feet.”

One hour and two cups of tea later, a plan was formed. Lucien tossed his glasses onto the table as he handed Elain a surprisingly thorough checklist. She sighed out a laugh, slipping the glasses into her pocket as she surveyed the list. 

“These three all start with the same basic dough. So you start there while I tackle the inventory,” he said pointing to the top of the list. 

“Inventory, hmm? Very official,” she giggled as she pulled her face into mock seriousness. 

Lucien smiled a bright smile as he pulled her into his chest. “Someone’s gotta be the muscle around here.” He landed a peck of a kiss to her forehead before quickly lifting his mate in the air, arms gripping tightly under her perfect backside. 

“Lucien!,” she squealed with a kick of her feet.

He promptly turned and set her gently on the counter of the kitchen island, sliding his hands from their hold and up her sides before cradling her laughing face. 

“Get to work, muscles,” she teased with a nudge from her knee and a squeeze of his bicep. 

“Yes ma’am,” he drawled seductively as he leaned in for a burning kiss. As he pulled away, Elain couldn’t help but notice the flames rising in his eye. 

“We have a lot of work to do,” she smiled at him, almost regretting the amount of work she had landed in their laps.

Clearing his throat and pulling his hands from her face, Lucien jolted into a perfectly straight posture. “At your service,” he intoned deeply before giving a crisp salute followed by a sneaky wink. 

With another giggle, Elain dropped herself back down to the floor and moved over to the other counter to begin her dough, but not before peeking over her shoulder to catch the sight of his well fitted shirt rippling across his back as he lifted more of the sacks from the floor. 

Several hours later, the system was working like a well oiled machine. Several of the items on Lucien’s thorough checklist were ticked off and the mates were working in companionable silence.

Lucien swiped an arm across his forehead depositing even more flour to his already streaked face just as a tinkling bell rang. 

“Pardon me, sweetheart,” he said as he slid behind Elain, hands drifting to her hips as he did. Pulling open the oven door, he leaned down and pulled out the two trays of cookies. “This is the last batch of sugar cookies, what’s next on the list?”

Elain leaned over to where the list was taped to the cabinet door. “Next is icing the sugar cookies and starting the oatmeal walnuts.” She dusted her hands on her apron and then reached for a piping bag. “I have the icing all ready for you. I’ll start on the other batch of cookies.”

A ringing laugh rang through the kitchen. “You really trust my artistry that much, my sweet?” Lucien finished placing the last of the cookies on the cooling rack as he turned to take the now full piping bag.

“I’m sure they will be perfect,” she laughed.

Lucien set himself to work, pulling his face into exaggerated concentration. Lips twisted to one side and the tip of his tongue poking out, his mechanical eye squinting. “If you say so, sweetheart.” 

The time passed quickly, Lucien completing two dozen nearly perfect cookies before a yelp broke the silence. 

“Oh!,” Elain gasped loudly. “I forgot to soften the butter first!”

The tip of Lucien's icing bag slipped from his nearly perfect cookie and smeared along the table at her gasp. “Bring it here,” he commanded before popping the now ruined cookie in his mouth. 

Elain walked over with the sticks of butter and handed them over, but instead of taking them from her, Lucien just wrapped his large hands over her own. With a flicker in his eye and a smirk on his face, he smiled at his mate standing before him as he slowly heated the fire in his veins, concentrating its heat into his palms. 

“You’re not supposed to eat them, Lu,” Elain sighed as she watched him chew. He only winked his golden eye in response before making an exaggerated swallow. 

“Consider it a taste test,” he laughed as he lifted his hand from hers and kissed her knuckles. “There, softened perfectly. Just like you.”

A heat of its own crept over Elain’s cheeks as she leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Thank you,” she said as she returned to her work. Lucien once again picked up the piping bag to finish his decorating, but not before taking a moment to watch the sway of her hips as she stood at the counter humming softly to herself. 

As the light outside the kitchen window faded past the low light of dusk, Lucien twirled his wrist absentmindedly, lighting the faelights along the wall. His hand dropped back to his cup, swirling the last dregs of his tea before taking the final swallow, his other hand in his lap kneading along the arches of Elain’s feet. Her chair was pushed close to his, feet propped in his lap as she lounged back and sipped her from her own cup. 

“More tea?,” she questioned as she moved to sit up. 

“No, no. I’ve got it,” he waved his hand at her as he reached for the teapot between them. Pouring another cup of tea, he snagged a cookie from the stack beside him. The kitchen was full of the remains of their work. Tins lined the counters, filled to the brim with delicious delights. Cookie sheets and mixing bowls were stacked in the sink, flour dusting nearly every surface. 

“Lu!,” Elain admonished with a giggle. “At least eat the broken ones. I was going to fill extra tins just in case.” She reached to the counter behind her and brought the plate of discarded sweets to the table. Grabbing one half of a broken iced gingersnap she held it out to her mate. 

Instead of taking it from her, Lucien leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the entire half with a gleam in his eye. 

“You nearly took my finger with it!,” she squealed as she snapped her arm back and pulled it to her chest. 

But he was just as quick. In a flash, his hand encircled her wrist and brought it back to his lips. He flashed a lopsided smile just before he stuck out his tongue and with a slow caress, he licked the icing that was left along the side of her finger. 

“And it would have been just as sweet,” he smirked, voice soft and low. 

Elain froze, eyeing his tongue as it swiped the last of the icing from his own lips. “It’s – It’s been a long day. I think we should call it a night,” she said hardly above a whisper.

“You read my mind, my sweet,” he responded in an equally low tone. 

Her feet dropped from his lap with a quickness and she reached to untie her apron. Slipping the garment from her neck, she tossed it over her chair. Lucien mimicked her movements and his apron soon joined hers, their footsteps soon thudding along the hallway floor.

“Lucien?,” Elain called from the foot of the stairs.

With a sliding skid, Lucien reappeared in the kitchen and snagged the half full piping bag laying on the kitchen island. “Coming!,” he called back before scurrying down the hall once more. 

#NINTH #you’re killing me #I love you for it #I’m literally going to get cavities from how sweet these two and their cookies are #elucien #elucien fluff #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #lucien x elain #acotar fluff

[chairofchaos]

Claire Beddor in ACOTAR

#acotar #don’t look at me 🫣 #I’m sorry but this is too good #straightupchaos

[chairofchaos]

#straightupchaos

[chairofchaos]

Azris Day 4: Free Day - Heaven Help the Fool Who Falls in Love: The End

Read on ao3 here

This is a continuation of @the-moth-writes beautiful one shot in which Eris dies. I could not get this story out of my head after reading her beautiful work. So with her permission I have written the continuation and aftermath of that story and how Azriel continues on after the loss of Eris.

It will be angsty. It will be sad. It will be depressing. You will probably want to punch at least one character in the face. Spoiler but this is not a HEA.

I’m going to be honest and say I reworked this chapter to death and the more I look at it the more hate it and so I do not feel happy pulling a single snippet from this thing to give you guys. So you’ll have to just trust me and fly blind for this one.

On a positive note I absolutely love the next chapter which I will post after Azris week.

Love you guys thanks always for the love, support, and comments, it’s seriously makes my whole day.

Sing a little ditty if you want on or off the tag train

@chunkypossum @futurehunt @fieldofdaisiies @hieragalbatorixdottir @the-darkestminds @jules-writes-stories @azrisweek

#bookshelfofchaos #azris #azris fanfiction #eris vanserra #azriel shadowsinger

[chairofchaos]

Too Good To Be True | Lucien x Reader

...you're just too good to be true...can't take my eyes off of you...

summary: in which your newest muse catches you red handed.

word count: 1,600

a/n: I do struggle writing Lucien but I had seen this tiktok and wanted to write a meet-cute over it and when I saw this fanart above made by IG user kri_stasss_, I took this as a sign lol. I also listened to the song can't take my eyes off of you like 100x while writing this.

With a sigh, you lean back into your seat, allowing your eyes a break. You had been sitting at the corner of the bustling cafe for over an hour, choosing to surround yourself with Velaris’s warmth and the smell of coffee in the hopes to finally draw something.  But your sketchbook is spread open on the table with a half-finished drawing.

You look at the view before you, the Sidra River shimmering like pure sapphire under the sun’s gaze. The leaves of surrounding trees rustling gently in the soft spring breeze and flowers vibrant hues adorn the riverwalk. It’s a beautiful sight–one that many stop and admire. Yet, it is not enough to fuel the inspiration you so desperately need.

The flowing water and distant laughter of children blend into a soothing symphony as you absentmindedly twirl your pencil between your fingers, thoughts drifting. Send me a muse, you plead to the Cauldron, yearning to feel that thrill again.That spark that ignites your passion of drawing. The very one that moves your hand effortlessly across the paper.

The sound of iron against pavement startles you, pulling you from your thoughts. You blink your eyes back into focus and instinctively, they land on the source of the noise. The table diagonal from you, that had been vacant for the past hour, now has an occupant. An occupant who is blocking your view of the Sidra River, the very one that is half drawn across your sketchbook.

But you can’t bring yourself to complain.

Not when there is a man of striking beauty seated there. 

His mere presence commands your attention, his red hair catching the sunlight and gleaming like fire. You feel your breath catch in your throat as your eyes trace the elegant lines of his face. Brutal scars mar the left side of his face–from his brow all the way down to his jaw. 

Despite this, the male is devastatingly handsome. Ethereal. 

Too good to be true, you think, finding yourself captivated by his eyes. His right eye, whole and russet-colored, holds a depth that draws you in. But his left eye…His left eye is a mechanical marvel, golden and intricate, and gleaming with an otherworldly light.  

And suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with an urge to touch him. To reassure yourself that he is real and not just a figment of your imagination. Gods, with a face and built body like his, he’d be heaven to touch…

A rush of excitement floods your veins and you feel a familiar thrill coursing through you. Your hands are turning the pages of your sketchbook until a blank page sits before you. And before you know it, you’re pouring your awe and fascination into each stroke of your pencil. Your eyes flicker up and down as you commit the details to mind, heart pounding every time with the fear of being caught. 

Though you're cautious about it, you’re too lost in his eyes to catch the way the male’s lips curve slightly upwards.

**

Lucien takes the last sip of his coffee, admiring the sight before him. The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in twilight hues and dancing across the Sidra River. Along the riverwalk, Fae stroll leisurely. Couples walk hand in hand, children skipping along the cobblestone path, pausing to catch the fireflies that are now visible in the dimming light.

Velaris was proving to be more beautiful with each passing day—a sight he’d never expected from a place like the Night Court. All his life, he had only come to know the Court of Nightmares. A place that truly lived up to his name. And though there were children laughing and running freely, he couldn’t help but still be wary of the City of Starlight. It was still part of the Night Court, after all.

His eyes scan along the riverwalk, golden eye making a soft sound as it moves, in search of something. Or rather, someone. Just as a frown is about to settle on his face, he finds what he was searching for. The reason why he was at this cafe…despite the fact that the best espresso in town was at a little coffee shop in the Rainbow of Velaris.

You.

You are sitting at a bench, knees drawn up and a sketchbook nestled onto your lap. As the sun continues to make its descent, the street lamp near you croaks to life. It bathes you in its soft glow and he is able to appreciate the slight furrow of your brow, the slight way your lips purse in concentration. He wants to know what you're drawing.

Ever since he caught you staring at him at this very cafe, he had an inkling as to what may be hidden within those pages of your sketchbook. He had meant to approach you about it but you had been so into your sketch, he found the sight endearing and feared disrupting you. 

So he had left you to it and showed up to the cafe the next day at the same time in the hopes of seeing you again and he did. That time, your gazes had met and though it had been brief, it felt everlasting. He remembers the way your cheeks tinted with blush before you turned your head away, flustered at being caught. If only you had seen the way he had smiled softly to himself afterwards.

It’s been days since that incident. Though he didn’t find you in that same spot the day after, he came to the conclusion that this was your favorite area to frequent in Velaris. It slowly became his too, his eyes always finding you amongst the busy riverwalk. 

Lucien had never been the shy type–at least, not when it came to pursuing people he was interested in. He had just been waiting for the right time–for the right moment to talk to you. And as you closed your sketchbook with a light exhale, his heart fluttered as he realized what better time than now.

**

Calling it a night, you close your sketchbook with a soft sigh. The sun had been replaced by the moon and the street lamp’s light was too dim for your liking to continue you drawing. You feared messing up what you had meticulously spent hours on. As you rise from the bench and turn to make your way back home, you bump into a smaller frame than yours, the sketchbook in your hold falling from your grasp.

“Sorry, miss!” A lively voice chirps and when you look toward the source, the small child is already far away from you. Kids, you muse to yourself as you turn back around.

Your breath catches in your throat. Standing right in front of you is the male who has become your muse.

But he’s not looking at you.

No, he’s looking at the sketchbook on the ground. Your heart skips a beat, heat rising to your face. The sketchbook had opened to the pages you've been working on—the ones with multiple sketches of his eyes.

You’re frozen in horror, watching as he studies your work. None of you say anything for a moment. It’s when his gaze lifts to yours that you spring into action. “Oh,” you gasp, beginning to bend your knees to gather your belongings. You're absolutely mortified, praying to the Cauldron he can’t hear how fast your heart is racing.

“I’m so sorry.”

Before your hand can reach for your sketchbook, another hand beats you to it.

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice deep and enchanting, causing your hand to freeze in midair. There seems to be a magnetic pull in his words, a sincerity that makes your heart flutter. Is there anything about this male that is not attractive?

“I’ve never seen the beauty of my eyes until now.”

The words are spilling from your mouth before you can stop them. “You’re joking, right?”

He’s knelt before you, his hand hovering over your book. But instead of picking it up for you, he grasps for your hand instead. It’s warm and calloused yet feels so good against yours. Like heaven. His eyes finally meet yours, holding you captive. He slowly brings your hand to his lips, and you don’t think you’re breathing as he presses his lips against your skin.

“No,” he grins as he rises to his full height, using his free hand to grab your sketchbook before bringing you with him. “I’m Lucien.”

It takes you a moment to realize he is waiting for you to speak, his presence overwhelming but exhilarating.

“I’m—” you clear your throat to steady your voice. “I’m y/n.”

“y/n,” Lucien repeats with a smile, finally handing you over your sketchbook.

You take it, immediately clutching the book tightly to your chest and avert your gaze, casting it downwards. “I promise I’m not a creep. I was drawing the Sidra–well, attempting to, anyway. But then you came along, blocking my view and something came over me. You see, I’ve been struggling with artist block and your eyes–your eyes are so pretty”--and under your breath, you mutter–” All of you is, if I’m going to be honest…”–Lucien’s smile widens at that–”and I finally felt inspired–oh gods, I’m rambling. I should just shut my mouth.”

Lucien’s russet eye twinkles with amusement. “I inspired you?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly and bashfully.

“Then perhaps,” he says, his voice low and intimate. “I should let you inspire me as well.”

Slowly, you lift your head back up, meeting his eyes once more. A wave of relief surges through you as you find nothing but sincerity and shared interest in his gentle gaze. You find yourself mirroring his smile, and something warm blossoms in Lucien’s chest—the start of something beautiful.

And he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the Night Court isn’t so bad after all.

a/n: okay, that's enough Lucien for now. Can't keep letting him distract me because I need to focus back on the other Vanserra *cough* Eris *cough*

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen

#bookshelfofchaos #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #lucien x you #lucien vanserra x you #lucien vanserra fanfiction #artist!reader

[chairofchaos]

If you love me- if you even just TOLERATE me, and you are willing to do one thing for me this week: READ THIS FIC (after checking TWs and ratings though. I watch a lot of crime shows this is not something I can give normal takes on lol)

Azris Week Day 4 | May The Best Man Win

Read On AO3!

Summary: For six years, MI6 agent Azriel Singer has been haunted by the one killer he could never catch. But now, out of nowhere, he's back, and their cat-and-mouse game starts anew. For six years, contract killer Eris Vanserra has followed orders and behaved himself - until now. Now, he's bored. And he misses Azriel. The two men find themselves drawn straight back into their game of obsession and desire, secrets and lies, love and hatred - and there's no way out.

Word count: 17.5k

@chairofchaos @azrisweek

Snippet under the cut!

“I know you better than I know myself.” Eris curled his hands around Azriel’s front, tracing the planes of muscle beneath his shirt. “If I am not capable of love – if this is the most I am capable of feeling – is it not love? Is love not just reaching the limit of your feelings for someone, and then surpassing it?”

“Eris.” It was a throaty, husky, growling sort of voice that left Azriel’s throat, one he barely recognised. Eris’ hands were hot and firm and insistent, roaming over his body in a way he wasn’t sure if he liked or not.

“You came here to kill me because you can’t bear it. You can’t bear that the person who knows you the most in the world is the person you’ve sworn to destroy. You can’t stop thinking about me, night and day, awake and asleep, and it tears you apart inside. One little message was all it took to reignite a flame six years suppressed, and you can’t bear the effect that I have on you. You want me, and you hate yourself for it. You love me, and yet you deny yourself to me. You want to kiss me, so you’ll kill me.” His slender fingers came to Azriel’s jaw, twisting his face to the side, bringing them eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose, mouth-to-mouth. Hot air mingled between them. They even smelled the same: sandalwood and clove. “Am I right?” Eris said.

Azriel kissed him.

#azris #acotar #fanfiction #eris vanserra #azriel #azris fanfiction #bookshelfofchaos

[chairofchaos]

Azriel’s Girls

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 2.6k | warnings: none

Summary: you overhear a conversation between Azriel and his brothers that has you second guessing your boyfriend’s faithfulness. What will you find when you follow him out one night?

Author’s note: two fics one day! This is crack lmao I wrote this in a blur this afternoon from a silly convo with @milswrites @prythianpages and @ninthcircleofprythian lmao

You and Feyre came into the River House giggling over the amount of paint that covered the both of you. The two of you stop laughing long enough to look at each other, before devolving into fits of giggles once more. One of the boys in the studio had insisted on today’s topic being finger painting, which led to the children essentially dipping their hands into paint before smearing it over all of your clothes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to shower here?” Her voice is soft and kind, a slight rasp to it from talking to the kids all afternoon.

“Thanks Fey, but I’d rather shower at home so I can slip into my pajamas and go to sleep.” You look away from her, as if you could see him through the walls. “Maybe I can even convince Azriel to rub my back. I shouldn't have given some piggy back rides.”

Feyre hums, a soft ‘told you so’ on her tongue, but you give her a pointed look and she keeps it to herself.

“Well, I’m going to go wash up. Good luck finding the boys.”

Her voice floats down the hallway she takes, and you start thinking about where to look - the most obvious place being Rhys’s study. Your feet pad through the halls until you start to hear three loud laughs coming from the cracked study door.

You keep moving towards the source, ready to make your presence known, when you hear Cassian say, “when will you see them again?”

Your boyfriend responds with a soft, “tonight”, eliciting raucous laughter from his brothers. You still, pressing yourself towards the wall, tilting your head in contemplation.

Azriel had told you he had plans tonight, that he was doing something important for Rhys. Had he lied to you?

Cassian’s voice cuts through your train of thoughts, “I’m sure the girls at Rosehall have been missing you.”

Rosehall?

You scrunch your eyebrows, trying to remember if you had ever heard of Rosehall. Was it somewhere in Velaris? Was it a pleasure hall? Who were these girls Cassian spoke of?

Had your sweet Azriel been sneaking around, and his brothers were aware of it? Had they been condoning it?

“I haven’t been able to see them in a while, they’ll be glad for the company.”

“I’m sure they’ll be crawling all over you, brother.”

Their laughs were knives in your heart. Did everyone know? Were you nothing more than a fool to them? Nothing more than a mere joke to these males? Your mind was racing, not paying any mind to the rest of the conversation as you ran down the hall into the kitchens, getting yourself a glass of water. You chugged it, the cool liquid giving your racing thoughts something else to focus on. Like a plan to figure out the truth.

After a few minutes of allowing yourself to seethe and panic, you retraced your steps towards Rhys’s study with your plan in tow: get to Rosehall, find out who these girls are, and yell and scream at Azriel and his brothers for playing you for a fool. As you approach, the males within were now speaking of some sporting event you were not the slightest bit interested in. Azriel’s face brightens as you knock and enter, pushing the door that was slightly ajar. You hate the way your heart picks up a bit at seeing him, at seeing how his face lights up at your presence, your cheeks heating at his attention.

He’s a lying, backstabbing, good for nothing-

“How was painting with Feyre?”

The attention from all three of them pulls you from your thought spiral and you choke on your own spit, coughing a bit. Azriel’s smile turns into a look of concern as he watches you, but Cassian chuckles. “Did you eat the paint by accident?”

Rhysand’s low tone chimes in, “I believe she’s wearing half the paint in Feyre’s studio, and I’m sure my mate’s wearing the other half.”

You chuckle, “uh yeah, Feyre was heading to shower when I left her.”

Rhys dips his head, “that's my cue to leave. BRothers, always a pleasure until better things come along. I’ll see you all later.”

Cassian laughs as Rhys disappears in front of you all, “horny bastard.”

Azriel glares at his brother, “and the pot calls the kettle black.”

Cassian scoffs, flicking his wrist in the air, “pish posh, Azriel. The past is the past.”

“Your past was last week when everytime I came back to the House of Wind for two weeks I got front row seats to your ass.”

“Well, it's our house. And I have a fantastic ass.”

Cassian flexes his thighs, as if Azriel just had to see it to mitigate his annoyance.

“I live there too.”

Cassian shrugs, as if this was a matter of opinion to just accept differences over.

Azriel looks back to you, his eyes making you feel warm, just as they always did. But the warmth was quickly devolving into a ball of anger and sadness, warming your stomach with jealousy and annoyance.

You slap a smile onto your face as you look towards Az, taking in his lazy grin as Cassian slaps him on the back. “I’m off to see Nes. You kids have fun!”

Cassian walks toward the balcony, taking to the skies. Azriel turns toward you, offering his hand so the two of you could embark as well. You accept his hand in yours, a little part of your mind telling you this is the last time you’ll do this. You laugh, pushing the thoughts to the side as you allow Azriel to pick you up, the two of you shooting up into the air.

Azriel flies you back to your apartment, his wings expertly moving over the streets of Velaris. You can’t help the smile on your face as you two fly through the air, watching the people below you until he lands right in front of your home.

You open the door for the both of you, and he follows closely behind. He chuckles at your paint covered clothes, and you fidget slightly, wanting him to make the move to leave.

The clock in your living room chimes, and his gaze moves towards it. “It’s getting late, I have to go. Will you be okay?”

You nod, your arms tightening around yourself. He takes your nervous energy as your hatred for sleeping alone, not wanting to upset you further by making you speak about it.

“How long will you be gone?”

He ponders for a moment, “I should be back tomorrow or the day after.”

He turns toward the door, but you shoot out your hand to grab his wrist. “Can I have one of your shadows? To keep me company? I like having them around.”

One shadow in particular dances at your words, coming from behind Azriel, practically spinning in the air as it immediately rushes to you.

“I hope you like that one because I don’t think it’ll let a different one stay with you.”

You giggle as it weaves through your hair, picking it up into a ponytail before dropping it.

“Perfect, so I’ll have someone to be witness to my antics.”

You giggle, but his face is solemn as he looks at you, something feeling so off about your behavior.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His words are so soft, and every part of you wants to tell him no, I’m not okay, because you are seeing other women who will be crawling all over you once you leave from here.

Instead you nod, making up an excuse about your eyes being tired from all the painting. He kisses your forehead, his lips soft and light against your skin before pulling away and stepping out of your door before winnowing away.

You count your breath for a few beats before turning to the shadow, “do you know where Rosehall is?”

-

Of all of your terrible ideas over the years, this one was perhaps the worst. You had asked the shadow where Rosehall was, expecting it to be somewhere in Velaris, likely in the parts of the city you were less familiar with. You did not expect the black wisp to wrap around your wrist and begin tugging you away from Velaris very forcefully.

You had started getting nervous when it kept pulling you towards the outskirts, but you were in it now, and you were going to see this ridiculous scheme through to the end.

The shadow had been pulling you for hours it seemed, across landscapes, your feet killing you as you walked, and somewhere several miles away from Velaris, the shadow’s hold loosened on your wrist, opting to move up and down your arm, as if telling you this was your destination.

“Are you sure this is right?”

The shadow danced all around you as if it were confirming your statement. You looked at the gated entrance, the estate so lush and green and not at all what you had expected, it took you by surprise.

This was where he brought women? To do scandalous things and have nights full of debauchery? Was this some beautiful and well-tended pleasure hall? Before you can debate going through the gate, the shadow moves forward, unlatching it and pushing it open for you.

You sigh, thinking to yourself no going back now.

You enter through the gate, preparing yourself to hear the sounds of females giggling, perhaps even moaning, but you are completely taken aback at the chorus of meows you hear, followed by a door opening, and Azriel’s soft voice calling out, “if you’re here for my mother, she has stepped out-”

His voice stops as he takes in the sight of you, the two of you standing before each other across the lush estate. His eyes swim with confusion, and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him at such a loss for words or the situation before. He continues to look at you, before realizing he’s carrying a tray of various raw meats and fish. He takes no notice of the dozen or so cats circling him, several trying to climb up his legs toward the food he carries.

“You- what are- how did you get here?”

You lift up the shadow that was entwined with your arm before it skitters off to join the other shadows playing games with the cats who weren’t paying attention to Azriel. You try not to wear the confusion on your face, hoping desperately to have some upper hand here.

“Is this Rosehall?”

Azriel sighs, setting down the food as one of the cats lunges to bite at his arm, missing and falling back into the pool of cats at Azriel’s feet.

“Yes.”

You puff up your chest, confusion seeping through your features as you ask, “and where are the females? The girls?”

“The girls?” His voice is incredulous, and you want to roll your eyes at it.

“Yes, the girls. The ones who wish to climb all over you because you haven’t been paying them attention.”

His long legs start to make their way across the front garden, the sea of cats at his feet parting as he makes his way through them. “The girls who climb over me?”

You sigh, exasperation evident, “must you repeat my words? Yes, okay fine. I overheard Cassian speaking of your plans this evening with ‘your girls’. Now why don’t you bring them out and show me to be a fool?”

A deep, belly laugh comes from his mouth, and you are utterly offended.

“Azriel, I came here to put you through the ringer for stepping out on me, and you find it funny?”

He steps forward, trying to put his arms around you but you step away from his embrace. His laughing continues as he asks, “you walked all the way here?”

“Yes.”

You stick out your chin, determined to look strong and confident.

“You walked all the way from Velaris to here, to find out I had cats?”

“Why yes, I did walk all the way here to find out-”

Your words die on your tongue as you look around, not seeing any other females anywhere. You picked up the scent of one, but the scent smelled so much like Azriel, they had to be related in some way.

He watches your nose twitch, separating out all the smells beneath the ever present smell of cat.

“My mother lives here.”

He coughs, the joyous look from his laughter gone, his hands moving behind his back. He rocks on his feet, and you found it quite endearing.

“With my cats.”

“Your cats?”

“Yes, but they’re not really mine. They just show up.”

“Your cats show up? What does that mean?”

“It means, if I spend any time in Illyria the cats seek me out. I’ve already fixed the stray cat problem in Velaris.”

He opens his arms wide.

“They’re all here. Problem solved, I suppose.”

You blink, slightly convinced Rhys had finally broken your mind and made up the most ridiculous scenario he could imagine. You feel one of the cats rub against your legs, and you bend slightly to nuzzle its face. It was pitch black with bright green eyes. It was so little, you couldn’t help but pick it up despite its verbal protests.

“You have cats.”

“Yes, and Rhys and Cassian despise the cats. Rhys says he’s allergic, but I think he’s just too worried about his damn furniture.”

“And Cassian?”

“Cats hate Cassian.”

He says this as if it’s an uncontested fact.

“How can all cats hate one person?”

“He likes to swing them by their tails.”

You nod, “okay, maybe all cats can hate one person.”

As the two of you spoke the shadows had lifted a cat up onto Azriel’s shoulders, where it stood meowing and pawing at the black wisps. You watched in bewilderment, unsure if the shadows were playing pranks or not, when the cat slid from his shoulder into the crook of his elbow, nuzzling into the warmth there.

You cross your arms, heat blooming in your cheeks at your rash decision making. “So there aren’t beautiful females here?”

“There’s one.”

“I knew i- oh. You meant me.”

You deflate once more, letting the adrenaline seep from your body. You were exhausted, well and truly. He nodded before putting the cat down, watching it scamper off into the grass. “I shouldn’t have lied about where I was going. Several dozen cats are just… a lot to spring on someone at once.”

You look to the ground, fingers scratching the ears of the kitten you were holding, “and maybe I got a little…. carried away.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “you picked the wrong shoes to hike out here from Velaris.”

You looked down at your sneakers, chuckling, “uh yeah, I definitely need to soak my feet for a bit.”

“Do you want to come inside?” He watches you hesitantly before asking, “Or I could take you home?”

You look toward the beautiful estate before peering back down at the wiggling kitten in your arms, before deciding that you did want to see Azriel’s mother’s home and to hopefully meet her. “Are you going to tell your mother about how I got here?”

He chuckles, slow and soft, “of course I am. She’d be endlessly amused.”

“Do you have any black felt? I’d love to make this little guy some wings.”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes as he puts an arm around your shoulder, leading you inside. “While you play arts and crafts, I can formally introduce you to all of the other cats.”

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @ninthcircleofprythian

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading ❣️

#bookshelfofchaos #azriel x reader

[chairofchaos]

Viviane and Kallias - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Artist: @ellyness5

#do we think the Elsa x Jack Frost shippers are Viviane x Kallias Stan’s just by nature of the similarities? #ANYWAYS #viviane #kallias #viviane x kallias #acotar fanart #winter court fanart #straightupchaos

[chairofchaos]

Eris and Lucien 💔🥲

These are a few panels from a fan comic I've made this spring. For those who know me and follow me on Instagram, know that I'm these two advocate until my final breath.

Eris definitely had a very rought childhood and life. Being Beron's favorite son had a price and for sure it wasn't easy. But I think Lucien (being his youngest brother) always made every pain more bearable. He gave Eris hope.

And it's a fact that Eris always protected him and in his way, always will.

I hope we get more of them in the next acotar books.

Ps: you cand find the rest of the comic on my Instagram ❤

#eris vanserra #lucien vanserra #Eris fanart #Lucien fanart #Eris and Lucien fanart #straightupchaos

[chairofchaos]

The Power of Jewelry

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra (fluffy fluffy fluffy)

Summary: Eris has a little secret. Actually, it’s a few secrets. Stored in a box. Above the bed he shares with Azriel. (It’s fluff. I pinky promise!)

Rating: Teen/PG-13

Word Count: <1000

A/N: What can I say? My fingers slipped again. Oops. Based on this post. Fits in @azrisweek Day Four!

Azriel lurked in the doorway watching his mate rifle through a box he had pulled down from the shelf above the bed. He had thought the box was empty, but Eris seemed intent on finding whatever he was looking for.

Quickly, quickly, his shadows had urged him, guiding him to the bedroom. But instead of finding his mate in the state which usually got the shadows excited for him to enter the bedroom, he found his mate being sneaky. There was very little they hid from each other, usually presents or other surprises. But Azriel, attentive though he was, had never caught his mate red handed.

“Can I help you find something?”

Eris’ head snapped around to face him. He looked guilty, not disappointed. Interesting.

“I’m looking for a… piece of jewelry,” Eris said awkwardly.

“Well, let’s see,” Azriel nodded to the box. “I didn’t realize you kept jewelry in there. Is it earrings? You left a pair in the bathroom yesterday.”

Eris licked his bottom lip. Oh, he was hiding something.

“No, I knew those were there,” he said evenly.

Azriel only quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

Eris rolled his eyes and tucked his hands by his sides, straightening with a huff. “I’m looking for a ring.”

“A ring.”

“Yes.”

“You’re already wearing your usuals. And you’re wearing your wedding ring.”

“My most important ring,” Eris mused with a small smirk. Azriel smiled, but ignored his comment.

“Why is it so important?”

Eris couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “I have a meeting.”

“A meeting.”

“Az…” Eris started to protest, but Azriel only shook his head and motioned for him to continue. “Does it matter?”

“It does if you’re making this big of a deal out of it,” Azriel countered.

Eris muttered something so low that even Azriel couldn’t hear it. Whatever it was, it made Azriel’s shadows start to churn. Even his prompting them didn’t break their silent, furious spinning.

“Eris.”

“They’re engagement rings.” Eris’ eyes were wary, but not guilty.

Azriel was shocked enough that it took him more than a moment to respond.

“What?”

“I… this box, they’re the engagement rings from the proposals my father forced me to make. I started picking jewelry that I would like, things I could wear.”

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh at the sorry expression Eris made as he finished his little tale. Eris’ brows were furrowed with frustration even as the corner of his mouth twitched up. His eyes reflected only amusement and apology.

“So these are the rings, then? What, did you lose a favorite?”

Eris winced. “Um… not exactly.”

He does not want to admit what he is doing, his shadows whispered in his ears. Azriel ignored them. That was obvious enough, even though his shadows seemed to be seething at the idea Eris was hiding something.

“Eris. Please just spit it out.”

“I’m meeting with one of the females and her father today to discuss a trade deal and I usually wear the rings to the meetings to throw them off,” Eris groans, laughing a bit as he sits on the edge of the bed.

The box tips over from the movement- and suddenly, Azriel understands. A small mountain of rings topple and roll from the box, settling in a little pile of fine metals and gemstones, all unique.

“How many?” Azriel breathed, crossing the room to brush his fingers against them. They were rather lovely. And Azriel recognized a few of them, ones that had graced his mate’s long fingers and then disappeared after a day or two.

“Twenty three,” Eris groaned, flopping backwards onto the bed with such an uncanny resemblance to Azriel’s teenage nephew that he couldn’t help but snort, then school his features into something a little less… bewildered.

“Twenty three proposals?” It was a shocking number, even for a male who had been alive and unmarried as long as Eris.

“There were more before I started picking rings I knew I’d use once I convinced them to say no,” Eris grumbled.

“So, twenty three rings. That you picked for yourself, under the guise of engagement rings.”

Eris nodded. “I actually came to love it. A little bit of freedom.”

“And now, what, you wear them to taunt them?”

“You’d be surprised how often it turns the tide in my favor.”

“How so?”

“I once startled a courtier so much she agreed to an agreement which gave me the power to control half her land for a decade.”

“Cauldron,” Azriel shook his head, biting back a smirk. “And today’s ring?”

Eris blushed. “I’m meeting with the father of the sixteenth female I proposed to. He flew into such a rage when she broke off the engagement that I took her away to Day, where she claimed asylum. He hasn’t seen her since. His glower gets angrier each time I wear it, and I’ve done his daughter the favor of keeping her in the loop of all the stupid things his rage makes him do.”

“You, my devious, lovely trickster,” Azriel bent to kiss Eris, smiling. “I love you.”

Eris pulled him in for another kiss, and Azriel let his weight fall atop his mate. The rings clinked, a couple of them rolling off the bed with thuds betraying their various weights. “I love you too.”

The shadows swirled around them both, their fury gone as suddenly as it had come. After a moment, Eris pushed Azriel back a few inches. “D’you know my favorite ring of all?” He murmured against Azriel’s lips.

“No idea,” Azriel smiled, pressing a kiss to Eris’ jaw. He knew. He always knew.

Eris smirked at Azriel’s indulgence, pulling his mate’s left hand slowly to his mouth to press a gentle kiss along the gold wedding band circling his ring finger.

“This one, right here.”

#azrisweek2024 #azrisweekday4 #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #Azriel Vanserra #Eris vanserra #eris x azriel #eris fanfiction #Azris established relationship #azris fluff #my work #fictionalchaos #my fic #my fics #Azris Drabble

[chairofchaos]

[after a night of drinking at Rita’s]

Cassian: A good captain always goes down with his ship

Azriel:

Cassian: And in this case, the ship is my body. Peace, y’all *passes out*

Azriel: …why did I have to be the drunk wrangler

#incorrect acotar quotes #straightupchaos

[chairofchaos]

Historic England-style chaperoning? Lucien and Elain forcing Nesta and Eris to follow them around a garden at a respectable distance? YES. PLEASE.

Eldest sibling bickering between Nesta and Eris during Elucien courtship is not a want but a NEED

#elucien #Eris & Nesta #you can’t tell me they wouldn’t trade insults like they wanted to kill each other #then they’d go back to their mates and be like #“actually i love him/her they’re great #we’re good friends

[chairofchaos]

Because y'all love selective reading...

Nesta doesn't care about anyone but herself.

refusing to leave Cassian as he dies in ACOWAR

"What I care about is making sure no children-fae or human-are harmed."

Staying by Cassian's side as he dies in ACOSF

Staying behind so that her friends could survive the rite.

"She would save him, save them, even if it took everything."

Nesta needs to acknowledge what Feyre did for her/how she treated her!

"But beneath the wall, I witnessed children-entire families-starve to death. Were it not for my sister...I would be among them."

"It consumed me so much that...that I let Feyre go into that forest and told myself I didn't care."

"Wished someone would smother the voice that whispered every horrible thing she'd ever done, every awful thought she'd had, every person she'd failed."

"You loved me when no one else would. You never stopped. Even when I didn't deserve it, you loved me, and fought for me."

"I swallowed my shout of pain as Nesta's arms went around my neck, and she embraced me so hard it snatched my breath away." "Her body shook, shook as she sobbed, and said over and over and over, thank you."

Nesta didn't experience enough trauma to act the way she did!

girl, bye be so fr

comparing trauma is gross, and if you think you have any right to do so, you won't fit in on my page :)

Nesta thinks she is superior to everyone around her. 

"I am worthless and I am nothing. I hate everything I am, and I am so, so tired. I am tired of wanting to be anywhere but in my own head."

"You're right to hide your children from me, I am the monster you fear."

"She had been suffering, and he'd had no idea how much it consumed every facet of her life. He'd seen her self-loathing and anger-but hadn't realized how much she'd been away of it. How much it had eaten her up."

Nesta can never allow anyone to love her.

"Nesta leaned forward until their brows touched. And despite all that brimmed in her heart, all that flowed through her body, sure and true, she merely whispered, thank you."

"I love you, too, Feyre whispered to her sister, and smiled. Nesta didn't stop her sob as she launched herself onto Feyre and embraced her."

"I didn't know how long my sisters and I lay there together, just like we had once shared that carved bed in that dilapidated cottage. Then-back then, we had kicked and twisted and fought for any bit of space, any breathing room. But that morning, as the sun rose over the world, we held tight. And we did not let go."

#reblogged specifically for this tag: #i will teach you how to read if you ask politely #op marry me #nesta acheron #I would marry her actually

[chairofchaos]

New headcanon: Eris purposely buys engagement rings he likes (with inset stones and things) and then gets them resized to fit him once he gets turned down.

An Autumn Court female walks into a meeting with him, and does a double take when she sees the ring he proposed to her with on his middle finger. He just smirks.

Eris Vanserra has a ring collection (it’s from all his failed proposals)

#nice little jewelry collection lol #eris vanserra #eris headcanons #Eris and his rings #Eris and his failed proposals

[chairofchaos]

“It’ll take more than that to kill me,”

“No, it will not.”

Horrible head canon

So all through Silver Flames, Cassian complains about his allergies.

Runny nose

Itchy, watery eyes

The works

Why did SJM include that? What did that add to the overall story?

It didn’t add anything to his journey except to give him another thing to hate about the Spring Court,

Unless

It was a seed of foreshadowing

To tell us that these magical Fae creatures can still suffer allergies

Can still be humbled by something as insignificant as pollen

Can still die from anaphylaxis

What if Cassian isn’t doomed to die on the battle field?

What if it’s a bee sting while he’s walking in the Spring Court again?

What if it’s shellfish at a party when he’s welcomed back into the Summer Court?

What if the greatest warrior isn’t given the chance to die in battle, but he dies on a regular day enjoying time with the people he loves who never saw it coming?

Well, most of them anyway…

#this almost made me cry #if this is how it ends #I will die alongside him #cassian #elains prophecy #elain archeron #seer elain #cassian dying

[chairofchaos]

✨️ACOTAR Hands Handcanons✨️

Warnings - sexual references

A/N - "But liz! Where is Az?" I didn't include Azriel because I don't think some people understand how brutally scarred his hands are. A lot of people headcanon him wear rings and watches to distract from his scarring, but his scarring would be so brutal from his hands being set on fire with oil that wearing jewelry for him would be nearly impossible and more than likely very uncomfortable both physically and in the sense that jewelry will draw attention to his hands, something we know canon Azriel hates. If it is wanted, I will do a reblog with Azzy's hands, but they will be accurate, not pretty.

Also, if you're a hand whore like I am, you have to go look at this post from the lovely @thehighladywrites about asking for hand pics 🥵🥵 it's one of my favorites.

✨️ Acotar Body Headcanons Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️

Rhys

Rhys is a firm believer in hands speaking of how well you care for yourself, so the man have perfect hands.

Rhys keeps his nails neat and trimmed, his cuticles cut, and his nail bed moisturized.

Rhys has fine hand creams imported from across the seas. It's made with water from some river you don't remember the name of. It matches his skincare line. Very spoiled Illyrian baby.

Rhys does have calloused hands, but they are not rough and dry. The calloused mainly rest towards the top of his palm near where his fingers begin. It's one small sigh of his skill with blades.

Rhys like to accessorize, but not too much, a few unique rings and a bracelet

Cassian

We're just here to make sure @sarawritestories can't sleep without dreaming of Cassian.

These are some of my favorite hands in all of Hollywood. Say hello to the hands of Alexander Skarsgård. His hands are massive.

Cassian does have rougher hands, but he can not help it. He's tried Rhysie little princess routine, but it doesn't work. That is more than likely due to the fact that he's constantly training and teaching someone.

You truly do not mind, though. Cassian's callouses and small scars in his hands remind you that you are safe. That no one will ever harm you as long as he is around.

One of Cassian's favorite acts of service you provide for him is little at home hand care sessions. You will soak his hands in warm water and then wash and care for them. You trim his nails, apply cuticle oils, and then use a very expensive lotion that helps keep his hands softer.

Cassian's hands are constantly on you. His favorite placement is when he gets to cup under your breasts. Preferably below your shirt. And he doesn't care who sees him doing it. His second favorite placement is your hips or ass.

Cassian does not accessorize since he rarely does not have his hand siphons on. The only jewelry on his hands is his wedding band

Lucien

Soft, warm, and gentle. Lucien's hands are a personification of the male himself.

They are not too large, but they're definitely big, and Lucien has strong hands.

Lucien tries his very best to keep his hands very soft he is constantly greeting and meeting new fae as an emissary, so he ensures his hands are covered while training.

Lucien also knows you appreciate how soft his hands are. He loves watching as you lean into his touch. He loves watching you shiver when he runs them along your body.

Lucien will wear jewelry for special occasions. Otherwise, he tends to avoid it. You never know when he will need to fish with his hair and bare hands to impress you. He had a reputation to maintain there.

Eris

Eris is constantly wearing rings and fine jewelry. His hands are part of his mask of cruelty only you and a few others get to see beyond.

Eris hates his hands. He hates how they've been used to cause pain. He hates how they remind him of his father's, he hates the small scars on them.

It almost confuses him when his hands bring you pleasure. When he watches as you fall apart under his touch.

He has started to care for them more now that he has you. His beautiful wonderful you.

You have noticed the rough skin getting softer. How his nail beds seem healthier. You catch him one night with his expensive hand creme and cuticle oils and your heart melts.

Soon, the jewelry becomes a little less and less, but you told him it would be a lie of you ever said you didn't love the way rings sat on his slender hands.

Nesta

Nail, simple, and with a touch of sparkle.

Nesta keeps her hands very pretty and very soft.

Her nails are also always professionally done on Rhysand's dime.

Nesta goes to the salon once a month. She gets the works. The expensive manicures. Rhys owes her, and she wants pretty hands.

Her grandmother and mama told her hands can make or break a marriage, and this is something she can not shake.

She loves clean, simple polish. Neutral colors or a French tip, that's all. For special occasions, she will do an iridescent polish.

As Lady Death, she tries not to wear too much jewelry, but she does have two favorite rings she wears. One from you, one from Cassian.

Elain

I am a garden hobby girl, so this one was fun.

Elain keeps her nails very short. She is constantly struggling with dirt under and around her nails, so she figures keeping them short is best.

Elain has surprisingly rough hands. A garden is a lot of manual labor, and she refuses to wear gloves, so she constantly dealing with little cuts and callouses.

You bought Elain a nail brush and special soaps meant to help her keep her nails clean so it doesn't interfere with her love of baking or... other activities involving you.

Elain's hands are very small, but they fit perfectly into yours.

Feyre

This is the hands I identified most with.

Feyre's hands are constantly covered in paint now that the lands are in a time of peace.

She's been known to wipe her palette knife off on the back of her hand or dab a paint brush on them if she picks up too much color. Or use them to swatch shades as she's mixing.

It is messy, but you adore it. You love helping her peel off the bigger chunks and helping her scrub them clean.

Underneath that paint, her hands can be a little dry, so you two have been caught many times sneaking into Rhysand's room to steal his hand creme.

Feyre keeps her nails a medium length. She will paint them for fun every so often, but she sees no point since they are typically covered in her medium of choice.

Mor

The baddie of the group.

Mor keeps her hands ready to greet royalty. They are so soft, so well kept, and constantly being pampered.

Mor used hand creme at least once and hour.

She keeps her nails longer, minus two on each hand. Iykyk.

Her nails have to be red. She will not paint them any color but her power color.

She is constantly wearing a ton of rings and jewelry as well.

I personally see Mor as a gold tone girlie.

The only ring she consistently wears is her wedding ring. Otherwise, all her other jewelry is subject to change.

Amren

Nails sharp enough to rip your eye out. Sorry, Lucien.

Amren sees her hands as weapons and her nails as weapons as well. But like all powerful weapons, they need to hidden.

She hides them using fae beauty standards. Manicures, jewelry, nail polish. Amren fully believes she's fooling other fae with those daggers attached to five small fingers but she isn't.

Amren does not do two curtesy nails. Amren is a starfish. You should be spoiling her. Not the other way around.

Finding out she could do jewels on her manicure was a life changing moment for her.

She practically purrs when she gets a fresh set now.

You swear she is secretly a fire drake with the amount of jewelry she has for her hands and on her nails.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

#acotar #acotar hands 👀 #vaguely x reader #straightupchaos