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daycourtofficial · 7 months

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Love Potion No. 9

Summary: Azriel returns from a mission and can’t seem to keep his hands off of you.

Author’s note: happy halloween! I thought a fun love potion theme would be so cute and fun!

(Part 2)

Can you come into Azriel’s room?

Rhysand’s request permeates your thoughts. You rise from your spot on the couch, placing a marker in the book you’re halfway through. You pad down the hallway, passing Mor, who gives you a soft smile.

You reach Azriel’s door, knocking softly before letting yourself in. You walk over to Azriel, who’s sitting on his bed with Cassian and Rhys standing facing him.

Rhys made these visits mandatory after Azriel went on three back to back missions and no one realized he hadn’t slept for 6 days until he winnowed in the dining room instead of his room, crashing on the table. Since that happened, Rhys has been making you, their healer, check on everyone post mission.

“Hi Az,” you say, stepping up to him.

“Sweetheart! Hi!” He says, putting his arms around you, enveloping you immediately.

You give Cassian a confused look. The two of you were exceptionally flirty and spent all of your time together, but Azriel was only this touchy when on the rare occasion he allowed himself to get drunk. He especially was never this touchy in front of his brothers.

You wrap your arms around him as he tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder. “Can I check you out, look you over?”

“Baby, you can do much more than that.”

Your cheeks heat immediately, but you don’t address it. You assess him for injuries, which you found none. As you’re assessing, he keeps his hands in a loose circle around your waist, trying to touch as much of you as he can while you’re working.

“Okay, Azriel, I didn’t find any injuries, are you in any pain?”

“I was, actually, in a lot of pain earlier.”

You stop, holding hand as you ask, “what happened?”

He looks down at his feet, thinking about whatever had caused his pain, as he says, “we were apart for several days.”

You roll your eyes, unsure of what has brought this on from him.

“Can you follow my fingers with your eyes?”

You hold up your pointer finger from each hand, holding them in front of his face, as you begin moving your left hand in the left direction. He does as you ask, following your hand, but as you start moving your fingers, you feel his hands slither down to cup your ass.

You hear Cassian try not to laugh.

“Did you ingest anything that you didn’t pack while you were gone?”

He sighs dreamily, “the only thing I want to put my mouth on is you.”

Your jaw drops, but Azriel doesn’t notice. He just starts playing with the ends of your hair, muttering about pretty your hair is when it’s loose.

“Did you have any problems winnowing?” You ask, trying desperately to keep this professional and to get through this check up. You half forgot that Cassian and Rhys are still here, if it weren’t for the occasional giggles from them.

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. He rests his hands on your waist, not looking away from your face. “Just thought of home, and you showed up. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” He states, winking very over dramatically at you.

You see his canteen, and ask, “may I?”

“Everything I have is yours, sweets.”

Cassian’s snort escapes without his permission.

You grab his canteen of water, screwing off the cap and sniffing it.

“Can I see you two out in the hallway?” At the mention of leaving him, Azriel pouts, his hands tightening around your waist. He starts to speak, but you cut him off, “I promise I’ll be right back.”

That response somewhat appeases him, and after Azriel untangles himself from you, not without a ton of huffs from him, the three of you step out into the hallway. You extend Azriel’s canteen with the lid screwed off out to them. “Smell this, what do you smell?”

Cassian takes a whiff, as does Rhysand.

“It smells like the air in the clouds, like,” Rhys takes another sniff, “like the soap Feyre loves. And clean sheets.”

Cassian smells it, “it smells like strawberries and sex.”

You chuckle before starting, “this is a love potion. Someone has drugged our shadowsinger.”

“But he was fine until he saw you - wouldn’t a love potion make him fall in love with who he saw first?” Cassian gasps, “I saw him first! It should be me,” almost offended Azriel wasn’t hanging off of him like he was you.

You laugh, “no, Cass. Love potions can have a certain person in mind, but you have to be an incredibly talented potionmaster to brew such a concoction.” You blush a little before continuing, “most love potions can only exacerbate feelings that are already there. Hence why I had you two smell it - it smells differently to you two. If it was brewed for a certain person, it would smell like them.”

Rhys looks at you, a mischievous grin showing on his lips, “you didn’t tell us what you smell.”

Your blush deepened even further, “it smells like books,” you sigh, looking at your feet, “and like Azriel’s cologne, which is why I couldn’t smell it on him and asked you two to smell it.”

Cassian wolf whistles and you hit his arm, “shut up.”

“Should we be worried? How long will the potion last?” Rhys asks, changing the topic for a moment.

“They usually only last for 12 hours. Supposedly it is all encompassing. I’ve never seen anyone take it before, so I’m not sure what to expect.”

The two brothers look at each other and grin. “Oh no, poor Az. Being looked after by our beautiful healer for twelve uninterrupted hours. However will he cope?” Rhys’s signature smirk stretching his face.

“Rhysand, if you’re insinuating I’d ever take advantage of a patient under the influence of a love potion, you’d be gravely mistaken.”

“Well, I didn’t see you exactly prying his hands off your ass, now did I?”

Cassian mutters under his breath, “I’m sure Azriel can find it in his heart to forgive you if you took advantage.”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re concerned they might actually get stuck. The two bats turn to leave, deciding they’ve teased you enough for now. Cassian turns around, making kissing noises at you as they disappear down the hall.

When Rhys and Cass are out of earshot, Cassian tells his high lord, “you owe me 50 gold marks.”

Rhys scoffs, “you owe me 100 gold marks for the love potion.”

Cassian rolls his eyes, “call it even?”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel/reader

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lorcandidlucienwill · 4 months

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lolol Acofas rewrite to make a tamsand moment bc why not

Only I'm turning Tam into a bisexual female. Also changing the POV because Rhys sucks.

Warning: Bondage (No smut), Suicidal Tam

"Lucien claimed you would come," Tamlina said dully. "Funny, I thought his mate was the seer," Rhysand answered. A twisted barb, another dig. A reminder that Rhysand had a mate and Lucien did too. Archeron mates, no less. But Tamlina did not. The pain swooped through Tamlina again. A never-ending ache. She had screwed things up with Feyre, and she had run into Rhysand's arms. She still couldn't believe that the male who'd sexually assaulted her under the mountain turned out to be her mate. Tamlina had been whole-heartedly convinced Feyre was her mate. But perhaps same-sex mating bonds did not exist, for Thesan had yet to receive a mating bond with his male lover. Perhaps the system was just in place to pair up males and females who would make the most powerful offspring. And the Mother had manipulated Feyre into falling in love with a monster.

A monster she, too, had once cared for. Whose life she'd saved not only for Feyre's sake but her own. Bitterness flowed through her again. "What do you want," she asked shortly.

"I came to have a little chat," he said with a half grin. A handsome smile, but entirely soulless. Tamlina wanted to tear it apart with her bare hands. "Can I trouble you for a cup of tea?"

Tamlina led him through the house, knowing that Rhys noted the complete disarray. She couldn't bring herself to care. She only said, "If you've come here to gloat, you can spare yourself the effort." She already knew he had won, after all. Rhys put a hand on his chest in mock humility. "Why should I bother?" Tamlina ignored it. "What did you want to talk about?" He made a good show at surveying the house before saying, "Where's my dear friend Lucien?"

My. Not our, or hers. Another twisted barb. A reminder that Lucien had left her for Night. No less than Tamlina had deserved for how she'd treated him. Yet Lucien had come back. Yet he was the only one who remembered her. Probably the only reason she was still alive.

"Hunting for our dinner." "No taste for such things these days?" "He left before I was awake."

Rhys lounged in a chair, turning it into a throne. "What's this I hear about you not enforcing your borders?" He couldn't be serious, could he? After all, it was his whore that had caused this problem. Tamlina gestured around them. "Do you see any sentries to do it?"

"Feyre did her work thoroughly, didn't she." A combination of rage and sorrow rose to the surface once more. She bared her teeth at him. "With your coaching, I have no doubt."

"Oh no, that was all her. Clever, isn't she." Tamlina dug her nails into her armchair trying to resist the urge to cry. It was a miracle she still had tears left to cry. "I thought the High Lord of the Night Court couldn't be bothered to brag."

"I suppose you think I should be thanking you, for stepping up to assist in reviving me." He thought wrong then. There was a time where Tamlina would've expected such a thing. There was a time where Rhysand would've worshipped the ground she walked on. That time, that boy, was gone. The male before her was someone she didn't know. Tamlina wished she didn't have a moral code. If she had been a slightly lesser female, she would've left Rhysand to rot. But her stupid, soft heart could not bring herself to do it. "I carry no such illusions. I'm fully aware that the day you thank me for anything, Rhysand, is the day the burning fires of hell go cold."

"Poetic."

All those times in the war band creating limericks had served her well, she wanted to say. But she lacked the energy to say the words. She hardly had any energy at all.

"You saved my mate's life on several occasions. I will always be thankful for that." Again the word mate stabbed her in the heart. I didn't do it for you, she wanted to shout. But who had she done it for, then? Feyre, the girl who had shattered her heart and her court? Rhys, the male who was glad to do it with her? Tamlina had terrible taste in males and females, it seemed.

"Does she know you're here?" were the words that came out instead. "Oh, she certainly does. And she was as disturbed as I was to learn that your borders are not as enforced as we'd hoped."

As if it wasn't Feyre's fucking fault they were in this predicament. Anger surged through her. "With the wall gone, I'd need an army to watch them."

"That can be arranged."

The Mother herself would die before Tamlina accepted even a cent of Rhysand's aid. "I'm not letting your ilk onto my lands."

“My ilk, as you call them, fought most of the war that you helped bring about. If you need patrols, I will supply the warriors.”

Ironic- so terribly ironic that Rhysand blamed her for the war. As if he hadn't gladly licked Amarantha's boots for fifty years. Tamlina had worked as a double agent against Hybern to bring her love back safely from males who played with minds like toys, and she'd done it knowing that having an in with Hybern would give them a chance to control the inevitable war.

"My war?" She said quietly. "My war? Who gladly served as Amarantha's executioner for decades? Who was happy to murder a dozen children as long as you got off unscathed? And for what, Rhysand? Last time I checked, your people are still heavily oppressed."

"My people are not oppressed, as you would know if you-"

"I know about Velaris," Tamlina interrupted. She stalked up to Rhysand, looking up into his eyes. Most claimed the Night Court High Lord had violet eyes, but Tamlina knew better. They were blue- a very deep blue that in some lighting appeared violet. But blue all the same. "And that, Rhysand, is not equality. Separation of different people is not equality. It's not the Prythian I was fighting for."

"Then what exactly, were you fighting for, Tamlina? This?" He gestured to the ruins of the Spring Court. Tamlina hadn't been able to dredge up the energy to care anymore. Most days, she barely even ate. If it hadn't been for Lucien's constant visits and fussing over her like a nanny, there wouldn't be a bone in her body you couldn't see. But Rhysand's words drew up the hurt again. The pain that her world, her people, everything had collapsed around her. She welcomed the pain. At least it was a feeling, and that was better than nothing.

"Until you ruined it all for me," she said quietly. She could feel the tears coming to her eyes again, and she ran away, not wanting to cry in front of Rhysand. Like hell would she show that kind of weakness in front of him. Like hell would she give him that satisfaction.

She thought she sensed a flicker of guilt on Rhys as she ran away, but she ignored it. She waited until she was out of sight before she shapeshifted into a tiny creature. The waterfall of sadness had been replaced by anger. The two emotions always came together with Tamlina. She spotted the discarded bat with which she used to play fireball with Lucien, a sport native to the Autumn Court that he'd introduced to her. She fluttered near the bat as Rhysand searched for her.

"Tamlina?" he called. "Look, I'm s-" It sounded as if he was about to apologize before he choked on the word, his ego getting the better of him. He never could admit when he was wrong.

Quiet as a mouse, Tamlina shapeshifted back into her normal body. Then she soundlessly grabbed the bat and slammed it into the back of Rhysand's head so hard that he thumped to the ground with a rumble that shook the house.

(Brief Rhys POV)

When Rhysand woke up, his body was fully chained to a chair. He tried to move, to work his way out of the chains, physically and with his magic when Tamlina strode towards him. Even in her lifeless state, staring down at him, Tamlina was the most beautiful female Rhys had ever seen. Guilt originating from the mating bond slid through him, but it was true. Her wavy golden hair tickled his hands as her dark green eyes pinned him in place.

"Don't bother to try and get out of those chains," she crooned. A little more spark in her voice than earlier. "Those chains are made of ash wood. You will die before you can get out of them."

Ash wood? Why the hell did Tamlina have that? He must have said the words out loud, for Tamlina smiled bitterly. "Courtesy of Eris Vanserra. He has a collection, you know. He offered me just a little bit, though. For a cost. I kept it in case I ever decided to..." the words trailed off. But Rhys knew what she meant.

In case I ever decided to end my life.

What had he done? He had goaded a depressed female, Tamlina no less. He had just wanted to get a rise out of her, banter with her as they had in the past. But...he had gone too far. Much too far.

"Why so horrified, Rhys? Last I remembered, you used to enjoy being tied up."

Rhys felt hot all over at her words. Tamlina smiled. "Still affected by me. I knew it."

"Let me out."

"No. I have a reason for keeping you chained up, you see. Your little Inner Circle is going to get worried about you and come for you. And I've been longing for a good fight."

"They'll destroy you."

"I'm a High Lady. A real one, not the bullshit title you handed Feyre. Feyre only has power because it was handed to her. My power...it's raw. Straight from the Mother herself. They'll have a hard time beating me even if I'm alone. Plus," she put a hand to his cheek, and Rhysand shuddered, "I have leverage." She stared at him for a long moment before walking away.

Rhysand didn't breathe, couldn't breathe, until Tamlina left the room.

#tamlin #pro tamlin #rhysand #anti rhysand #tamsand #acofas #acofas rewrite

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deathsconsort · 3 months

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“ i can tell something’s bothering you. ” from feyre!

in nyx’s nursery before a grand window was a rocking chair. sitting in the chair was nesta, staring out into the star filled sky while her nephew laid contently in her arms. she wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she snuck away from the inner circle chatting away downstairs to come check on nyx. nor did she care. these ‘family’ dinners still made her feel on edge, she felt as if they watched her to make sure she wouldn’t say or do anything they think is wrong. especially when she spoke with feyre and she could feel her sister’s mates eyes on the two of them, which irked her to the point of wanting to start a fight with rhysand. it was surprising that he hadn’t come in here to take nyx from her arms with the way he always seemed to watch her whenever she was around.

being around her sisters when no one else was around was easy, now that she and feyre had a better relationship she didn’t dread spending time with her sister. in fact, she enjoyed the time spent with them when it was only them. the only reasons she came to these dinners were for cassian’s and her sister’s sake. if it were up to her she’d stay at home reading or spend the night with gwyn and stuff their faces with so much candy they feel on the verge of throwing it up. all she wanted was to be herself without feeling like she was being scrutinized.

nesta turned to her sister at the sound of her voice. “that obvious, huh?” it must have been a while since she escaped from everyone for feyre to come check on her. her head turned back to the window, making no move to get up. “i just–” she started then cut herself off. it was still difficult to open up to her sister about certain things. the inner circle was one of them because she knew her sister considered them her family and she probably didn’t see things the way she did. she breathed in deep then sighed. “it’s still hard to be around everyone and not feel like they’re waiting for me to screw up. like they’re waiting for an opportunity to tell me how horrible i am.”

#☾ ‘ death herself ‘ ( answered )#folkorae #i'm saddd

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c-e-d-dreamer · 3 years

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Okay, I know hockey player versus figure skater is a super cliché rivalry, but all day today, my brain was like “hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian,” so here we are. Also, fun fact, this exact event actually happened to my little brother at one of his games. TW for blood and injuries. Hope you enjoy :) @nessianweek

The cool rush of the air conditioning is the first thing that hits Cassian as he pushes through the doors. The throwback pop song pumping out of the speakers and the smell of popcorn from the snack bar hits him next. He shifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder, resettling the weight, his sticks clacking together in his other hand. He makes his way over to the board declaring the locker room assignments for the day, squinting until he finds the Illyrians. He's about to head off toward their locker room when his eyes snag on someone.

Nesta is perched like a queen on one of the benches in the lobby, her white skates resting beside her. She has a sweatshirt pulled on, but the red skirts of her dress skim across her thighs, and Cassian can see the jeweled embellishments peeking out under the collar. Unsurprising, she has a book opened in her hands, probably another of her smutty romances. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, Cassian finds himself drawn into her eyes, the way they glint as they dance across the pages.

Cassian doesn't have to think twice before he's sauntering over to her. He drops his bag with a loud thump at her feet, a smile pulling across his face at her answering glower. He loves this game they play. The way he pushes her buttons and she pushes his always leaves flames licking up his skin in the most delicious way. He's sure they make quite the sight, the hockey player and the figure skater, but he'll never stop going back for more.

"What do you want, Cassian?"

"Love the outfit today, Nes. The sparkles really contrast well with your dark soul."

"Don't you have to go smash someone into the boards?"

"I'd love to press you up against the boards."

Cassian throws a wink her way for extra good measure, and the way Nesta's eyes narrow has his heart ticking up slightly in his chest.

"Prick," Nesta mumbles, opening back up her book.

With a chuckle, Cassian takes it for the cue that it is, picking back up his bag and heading for the locker room. He offers Azriel an easy grin as he passes him, his brother merely shaking his head at his antics yet again.

~ * * * ~

Nesta hears her sister before she sees her, Feyre's laughing bouncing off the walls of the lobby. She closes her book and grabs her skates, but as she heads for the door, her steps falter and pause as she takes in Elain walking in beside Feyre.

"Since when does it take both of you to pick me up?" Nesta asks once her sisters are close enough to hear.

"Actually," Feyre starts slowly. "We were thinking we could stick around for the game."

"What," Nesta deadpans, taking in both her sisters' expressions and inwardly sighing when she sees they're both actually serious. "Fine. Give me the keys, and I'll pick you both up later."

"Oh, Nesta," Elain says, taking Nesta's hand in her own. "It'll be fun. Besides, you and Cassian are friends. Don't you want to see him play?"

"We are not friends."

"That's for sure," Feyre pipes in. "There is way too much sexual tension for that to be considered friendship."

Nesta shoots a glare Feyre's way, but her sister merely smiles innocently. The mischievous glint swirling in her eyes tells Nesta she's not getting the keys from her youngest sister anytime soon. Which is how Nesta ends up pressed between her two sisters, the cold of the metal bleachers biting into the underside of her thighs and a shared blanket draped across their three laps. Elain keeps clapping excitedly to her right while Feyre shouts, "go, baby, go" every time Rhysand cuts up the ice on her left. Nesta thinks her eyes might actually get stuck from rolling them so much.

Despite the equipment and jerseys making it hard to tell the players apart, the whole team blending together into a mash of blues and gold's, Nesta finds she can pick Cassian out fairly easily. She tells herself it's because he's clearly the biggest guy on the team and the hair sticking out the back of his helmet is a dead giveaway. But either way, her eyes always seem to find him any time he's on the ice, whether he’s sweeping along the blue line to make a play or throwing his body against the other team.

They’re into the third period when Nesta watches Cassian jump over the boards, joining the rush before falling back into the neutral zone as the other team gains possession. He guards his man well as the play shifts to their defensive zone, the other player trying and failing to shake Cassian loose. The player tries to deke around him, but Cassian is quicker, their sticks clashing together.

It's like it all unfolds in slow motion. The puck popping up into the air between them. The other player raising his stick like he plans to bat the puck down. The stick colliding with Cassian's head.

There's a collective gasp from the crowd watching the game as Cassian crumbles to the ice, falling onto all fours. And then there's red. A few drops at first, but soon it's a steady stream. It seeps into the ice, spreading out around Cassian like a crimson puddle.

"Oh my gods," Feyre whispers.

"I hope he's alright," Elain chimes in.

Nesta knows that her sisters keep speaking, but all she can hear is a ringing in her ears, like a high pitched screaming sinking its claws into her mind. Her hands fist into the blanket in her lap, and she watches with wide eyes as a trainer walks onto the ice, pulling the cage of Cassian's helmet up and sliding a towel under. With the help of two teammates, Cassian's on his feet and skates back to the bench. Nesta's stomach roils as one of the rink staffers and the referees scrape Cassian's blood from the ice, and even when the game resumes, she can't take her eyes off Cassian slumped over his knees on the bench.

~ * * * ~

Cassian can't help but poke at the bandage on his forehead as he checks himself in the locker room mirror. It's still tender, and he winces at the pain that radiates from that spot. Definitely going to leave a scar. At least he got a goal tonight. Small victories. With a sigh, he shoulders his bag, grabbing his sticks by the door and heading for the rink exit.

When he steps into the lobby, he finds Nesta standing there. Cassian knew that both her sisters were here earlier, but a quick sweep of his eyes around the room shows them nowhere to be found. When his eyes dance back to Nesta, she's already looking at him, something intense brewing in her eyes like storm clouds rolling in. It leaves Cassian captivated, and in a few strides, He’s standing in front of her, dropping his bag at their feet.

"What are you still doing here, sweetheart?"

Cassian throws as much cheek as he can into the question, letting that cocky grin he knows gets under her skin slide across his face. He expects Nesta to scowl, to make some snide remark back, to pick up their game right where they left off, but Nesta's face remains serious. He watches in confusion as she crosses and then uncrosses her arms across her chest, takes a deep breath like she's steeling herself.

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," Nesta explains, her eyes glancing up to the bandage before settling back on his own.

"Oh," Cassian says dumbly, blinking down at Nesta a few times before his brain finally catches up. "It was just bad luck. Stick hit just right for one of the screws in my helmet to go right into my head."

"It looked… bad."

"Well, head wounds bleed a lot."

Nesta nods and silence falls like a blanket between them. Cassian's brain kicks into overdrive, suddenly desperate to keep whatever this precarious moment is going, keep her talking to him, keep those eyes on his. It sparks in his chest like a piece of flint, fire burning under his skin. He's so busy floundering, trying to will his head and mouth to produce actual words, that he almost misses the frown that takes over Nesta's face, her eyes caught on his hand.

"You're not thinking of driving, are you?"

The sudden question takes Cassian by surprise, and Cassian’s brow furrows in confusion until he remembers his car keys are in his hand.

"How else would I get home?"

"You can't drive with a concussion."

"What makes you think I have a concussion?"

"How could you not have a concussion?"

"If I had a concussion, why would I have gone back out on the ice to finish the game?"

"Because you're an idiot."

Before Cassian can even splutter out a protest at the insult, Nesta is reaching forward and snatching the keys out of his hand. Then, for good measure, she reaches out and takes his sticks out of his hand too.

"There's an Urgent Care like five miles away that should still be open."

With that and a final, firm nod, as if she's decidedly made up her mind and Cassian can't change it, Nesta turns on her heel and makes for the doors. Cassian is left there gaping, blinking dumbly after her retreating form, while his sluggish brain tries to grasp what exactly is happening. Maybe he is concussed. Not giving himself another second to contemplate, Cassian scrambles to pick up his bag, tossing the strap over his shoulder as he hurries after Nesta.

"Can I at least buy you dinner after?"

#my fic #acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

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I teased this in a previous post and people asked me to expand so...here’s my controversial take that Rhysand and Nesta are actually parallel characters in many ways and that they both hate each other so much because they ultimately hate themselves.

Alright ladies and gentleman, anti’s and stans, buckle your fucking seatbelts or hope off the roller coaster here because I’m about to learn you a thing or two about the most divisive characters in the ACOTAR world.

Starting out very broadly- both characters are introduced as sort of confusing villains (Rhys is “evil” but he’s also helping Feyre. Nesta is an “awful sister”, but she also is protective of Elain and tells Feyre essentially to go and be happy), both have faced significant trauma and grapple with self-loathing and feelings of not being good enough, and both ultimately find redemption and healing with their mates who love them. They also both currently exist in a strange parallel coming out of ACOSF where Rhys is supposedly “chosen by the Cauldron” and Nesta is “blessed by the Mother”- the two sacred entities of Prythian.

Intrigued? More specifics and text analysis under the cut

Mommy (and Daddy) Issues:

Both characters were basically raised by their mother’s alone and then lost them at a young age and that had a deep impact on them. Rhysand had a far more positive experience of being raised by his mother HOWEVER I would argue that it was still “grooming” of a type since she took him away to train in Illyria specifically so that he wouldn’t be influenced by his father.

Rhys’ mother did this out of love and Nesta’s mother groomed her out of a social climbing agenda, but it had the same effect- they both lost the parent who was their primary caregiver at a young age and they were both not close with their father’s because of their mother’s actions (again this was a good thing for Rhys, not as much for Nesta).

Parents Death: Rhys and Nesta both blame themselves for one of their parent’s death and are deeply affected by feeling like they failed someone important to them.

Rhys thinks that he is responsible for his mother and sister’s death because he gave Tamlin info

Rhys even says after this “It should have been me.”

Nesta feels that she was unable to save her father and she hates herself for it.

Rocky sibling relationship and Separation:

Rhysand and Cassian are obviously a lot further along in their sibling journey, but it’s stated that he and Cassian HATED each other and fought constantly essentially until Azriel arrived and then they decided to be “allies”.

Nesta and Feyre are also at each others throats but seem to put their differences aside in order to not upset Elain. (Even when Feyre first goes back to the human lands Nesta says NOPE NO FAE! But as soon as Elain asks her to do as Feyre says she agrees) and then Nesta states in ACOSF that she and Feyre were brought together by Elain to be allies in the war.

Rhysand and Cassian obviously grew into true brothers despite their adversarial, insulting, bitter beginning... and Nesta and Feyre after ACOSF have done the same. Obviously there’s still a lot of work to be done in that relationship, but the parallel stands (and is just strengthened by the fact that in both cases it’s the character with more power in the relationship- Nesta for being the oldest and Rhys for being the one whose family took Cassian in is then mated to the opposite sibling!)

Both have a parent who essentially separated them from their ‘siblings’ for their own benefit. Nesta’s mom isolated her as a child so that she could groom her and tell her how to maneuver her sisters when the time was right while Rhys’ father- afraid of his, Cassian, and Azriel’s combined power- separated them for 7 years through the first war to ensure they wouldn’t ally against him. Nesta was also separated from Feyre by Tamlin and tried to go to the wall to get her back but couldn’t get through- which is very reminiscent to me of the scene at the beginning of ACOWAR from the first war where Rhys is searching desperately but without hope for Cassian.

Shared Trauma and Learning to be “Evil” to protect their family:

both characters are sexual assault survivors who spend a chunk of their book (I’m counting ACOMAF as essentially Rhys’ book since that’s when we learn more about him as a character) grappling with that, coming to terms with it, and moving forward with a general attitude of “Never Again.” I would also argue that even their abusers are parallels as Rhysand was only ‘with’ Amarantha because he was trying to protect his family and Nesta was only ‘with’ Tomas because she thought his family might be able to take in and feed Elain (she says in ACOSF that she would give him whatever he wanted- her body meant nothing to her and Elain meant everything, which is essentially Rhys’ UTM mindset). In addition, both characters are able to escape their abusers out of love for Feyre. Rhys does so when Amarantha is about to kill Feyre, and Nesta does so because she realizes that Tomas would never go to the wall with her to save Feyre.

Beyond this, both characters express that it is the lack of control over their own lives that truly haunts them. Rhys when he felt like he had no choice but to be Amarantha’s puppet and Nesta with a lot of her life, but especially when she is forced into the cauldron. Both of these are things that make them feel like failures for not protecting others. Rhys is haunted that he couldn’t protect Feyre under the mountain and Nesta is haunted that she couldn’t protect Elain from the cauldron.

This leads both characters to have a terrifying power-surge nightmare brought on by their trauma (Rhys from Amarantha; Nesta from the Cauldron) that terrifies those around them and can only be stopped by their mate.

In addition to this, they both have a “persona” that they put on and sometimes feel like they can’t shake off, a face that they made to protect themselves and their family. Rhys with his “Court of Nightmares” persona that he uses UTM, in the Hewn City, and with the other High Lords until the war. Part of his growth is letting people see beyond that ‘most powerful high lord of darkness’ mask.

For Nesta this is expressed by her “wolves” that she uses to put up a wall between her and the people who mocked her and her family, and especially Elain. And her learning to open up with Cassian and her found family was really important for her growth

HOWEVER, they both also keep that persona. Rhys has his mask polished for when anyone might threaten the people he loves and so does Nesta. Neither of them truly gave up that side of themselves, the darkness, they simply learned to stop it from consuming them.

They also both LIKE doing this to their enemies. Rhys likes to toy with his enemies and torture those who would harm his family or betray him and so does Nesta- she revels in cutting down anyone who insults Elain and says in ACOSF that she’s felt the urge to do the same for Cassian. They both wield words like weapons and use their intelligence to ensure they are always one quip ahead of their enemies. Something that both Feyre and Cassian admire in their mates and try to emulate to a degree.

(Bonus points for the fact that in both cases their families did not ASK to be protected/sacrificed for.)

Found family and sacrifice:

Rhys calls Cassian and Azriel his “brothers” after becoming close while training and they conquer the blood rite together. Nesta calls Emerie and Gwyn her “sisters” after becoming close while training and they conquer the blood rite together. Rhys sacrifices himself to Amarantha in order to protect Cassian and Azriel (and Velaris). Nesta sacrifices herself to hold the path of Enalius to protect Emerie and Gwyn. There’s also a line in ACOMAF and a parallel line in ACOSF essentially about Nesta being willing to do anything- including “whore” herself- to protect Elain, and in order to protect his brother’s that’s exactly what Rhys did- “whore” himself to Amarantha.

Both are ‘saved by’ and feel not good enough for their mate:

I hesitate to use the word “saved by” because ultimately both characters have more agency than that, HOWEVER, both characters rely on their mate to a degree to pull them out of a very dark time and place. Feyre helps Rhys remember who he is and forgive himself for under the mountain and he even specifically calls her his “salvation.”

I don’t think I need to even say the Nesta part here, all of ACOSF is essentially Cassian helping Nesta climb out of a dark period so that they can heal together.

(Both also start connecting with their mates on a “just sex” situation.)

Both characters think that because of the things they’ve done and the darkness inside of them that they don’t deserve the people they have been mated to.

Obviously there are many differences, but the characters are similar in a lot of ways and what I think this really highlights is just how true that line is in ACOSF about Nesta being a wolf that was never allowed to learn how to be a wolf. Meanwhile Rhys is 500 years older and has always had power and agency of some kind even at his lowest point. Nesta didn’t have that power and wasn’t allowed to really unleash herself so she armed herself with a steel exterior to make up for that lack of power and control. Which is very similar to what Rhysand did when he felt he didn’t have power under the mountain- put on a cold face, not let anyone in, and act cruel in order to get through it.

Overall it’s an interesting character study because in a lot of ways these are very similar characters, but there is such a MASSIVE divide among the fandom of liking and hating one or both of them. Ultimately, I do think that a lot of the hate Nesta gets is because she’s a woman and female characters simply aren’t allowed to have the same flaws as male ones- which is kind of Nesta’s whole life story. BUT I think that Rhysand actually gets unintentionally screwed over by the narrative in one big way. Becuase my final paralell is that I think a lot of people came around on Nesta when they saw in her perspective that she knows she has problems and how much she was struggling… and I also think that Rhysand is so hated by those who dislike him because of Feyre’s ‘he can do no wrong’ perspective. I think if we saw more of Rhysand internally struggling and knowing that he made the wrong call sometimes and second guessing himself he’d be a lot more likeable character. We know he’s capable of this because when Cassian calls him out on the training roof for always thinking the worst of Nesta he just says “you’re right. I’m sorry” and he even *kinda* admits some wrong when he’s so shocked by how deep Nesta’s trauma is. Feyre and the rest of the IC constantly exalting Rhys as perfect when he so clearly isn’t and in fact has a lot of the same “flaws” as Nesta is probably the most frustrating thing about the character, which ultimately I think is kind of unfair because we know from his few perspectives that he doesn’t see himself that way.

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aelingalathyniusrailme · 3 years

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If you find me at the edge, we’ll jump together.

Gwynriel pirate au pt 8- you don’t know who I am.

this chapters a little bit shorter because the part that’s coming next would have made it way too long. also check out the other parts. pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed and Azriel swore there was venom in her gaze. If he was being perfectly honest, he was slightly turned on.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Why do we need you?” She spat out. Her words were icy, not the passionate, flirty pirate he had come to know, but someone different. Someone new.

Perhaps new was the wrong word, perhaps he had just peeled away another of her many layers. And perhaps, as the days of their time together grew shorter, he had become more and more interested to find who, and what lay beneath.

His mind was an absolute atrocity. Split between the pirate captain he couldn’t rid himself of, his second with secrets and lies curved around his every word, and the fae female before him, who shared history with each of them.

Feyre. It appeared Nesta’s sister was just as lethal as she was, but where Nesta was cruel words and brute strength, Feyre was power of a different kind. Fae.

The first of the archeron’s was ruthless and cold while the third was as immortal as she was dangerous, with a slight superiority complex. Some morbid interest had him curious as to what the second archeron sister would be like.

At that moment Azriel sneezed, interrupting the stare down going on between Berdara and the assassin. He looked around and found the culprit. In a vase on the a shelf was a bouquet of roses. Damn his fucking allergies.

Gwyn turned to him and everything about her softened, amused.

You alright? she snorted a little

Yes I am perfectly fine thank you for asking.

Well this is good news, the infamous pirate captain can be brought down with a simple flower.

A wretched flower.

“Excuse me.” Feyre seemed very agitated. “I would appreciate it if you two could stop looking at each other for one moment.”

Azriel swore he could see Gwyn blush slightly.

“Yes of course, our apologies, please continue.”

“Please don’t” Gwyn mumbled for only Az to hear. His lips twitched in agreement.

“Now you two have half of what you need but you certainly cannot acquire the huge hall with a measly half.”

She paused for a dramatic second. “You have the map and while I’m sure that the phoenix piss worked wonders in uncovering the sigil of The Dragon. But I’m sure you know it does not actually lead you to Amren herself.”

Gwyn and Azriel shared a look. “Oh,” Feyre frowned. “I guess you didn't know that. But you must have known that her island moves with the storm and is constantly moving and the only way to track it down is to use the compass.”

“No, you didn’t know that either?” Feyre’s frown turned upwards in a devilish smirk. “One more piece of information I suppose you need to know. Only a pure blooded fae can use the compass.”

“And why is that?”

“Like calls to like, power recognizes power.”

“Someone’s quite full of herself.”

“I simply speak the truth.”

“Sure you do.”

Azriel sighed, this back and forth would accomplish nothing and he had treasure to find. “How about Captain Berdara and I discuss your proposition in private?”

“What is there to discuss?”

Azriel smiled charmingly, “Not that you aren’t delightful company, but plenty.” Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw Gwyn frown.

Feyre looked him over, and then turned her gaze to Gwyn, curling her lip in disgust as she walked out the door. Her footsteps became faint and Gwyn blurted, “Absolutely fucking not.”

Gwyn took a breath, trying to regain her composure, “I do not work with people with conflicting interests.”

“We need her.” He was sure of it, Azriel trusted his gut instincts and his instincts were telling him she was telling the truth, or at least some form of it. Although he far from trusted her. Azriel had learned a long time ago that the only people he could regularly rely on were himself and his crew.

She swallowed, her eyes turning steel, and her gaze becoming daggers, “No.” She turned away, about to walk out the door. Her shoulders back and her chin high. Even in her moments of vulnerability she would not sacrifice her pride.

“Gwyn.” The sound of her name from his lips was enough to stop her.

Her voice was faint, the words barely there, “What did you just say.”

His words softened, “Gwyn.” He said again as she breathed in sharply, “I will not pretend as if I understand you even remotely.” She snorted. “But I do not believe you are the kind of person to be swayed from your goals. You go after what you want with a ferocity that could rival any. And I know you want this.” Gwyn shifted on her feet as if preparing for a fight. It was a nervous tic, he realized. “Whoever you were when you knew that woman is not who you are now.”

“And who am I now?”

“Infuriating, stubborn, a royal pain in my ass.” She laughed weakly. “You’re a lot of things Berdara, but you are not stupid and you know as well as I that we require her services.”

“So what is it you said to me? Ah yes suck it up and think of the money.”

Gwyn flexed her fingers and squared her shoulders, clearly still itching for a fight. But then she did something unexpected, her body relaxed and she exhaled slowly. “You’re right.”

Azriel was pretty sure he was having a stroke. “I’m sorry, say that again but slower this time.”

In a flash she had him pinned to the table with her knee pressing on his chest and a dagger to his throat. “I’ve said those words three other times in my life, every one of them ended up with their heads on the ground and their balls in the sea. Don’t make me regret it and don’t expect it again.”

He believed every word and yet the dagger was held with almost no pressure so he smirked in agreement, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She got off of him and wiped her clothes, “To be clear we are going to screw over feyre archeron right?”

“You have to ask?”

Gwyn’s smile was one of pure insanity as she murmured, “Maybe this will be fun after all.”

He walked to the door and opened it, standing to the side as he held out his hand mockingly, “Your majesty,” She breezed through the door without giving him so much as a glance and when they found Feyre and their combined crew, god Azriel despised this women.

Feyre was holding Cassian, a man who was double her size, by the ankles as others watched with bored expressions on their faces. Cassian was grinning like an idiot, Nesta however, looked like she was 0.2 seconds away from throwing a knife into her sister's chest. Azriel didn’t blame her.

“Feyre, drop it.” Gwyn scolded.

“What am I? A dog?” She growled.

“That’s an insult to dogs.” Nesta muttered.

Gwyn laughed but instead of continuing this useless back and forth she spoke again, “Feyre if you acquire us this compass and prove that it works as you say it does, then we will agree to your terms.”

“Thought you might say something like that.”

“Well?” He asked.

“Well, a certain day court event will be expecting a few more members.”

Rhysand, surprisingly, groaned, “Oh my god no.”

Emerie questioned, “Wait what?”

“Feyre darling is taking us to the sun ball.”

Tagging: @imsointobooks @meher-sumedha @himadrij @gwynrielsupremacy @ipsa-est-lux-plenae @flora-shadowshine @allthebooksunderthemoon @valkygwyn @bookish-isha @lattristantketchup @generalnesta @brieq @sv0430 @carsonjade12523 @aelinismyreligion @gwynrielisunmatched @shisingh @sarcasticsugarcookie @feyretale (let me know if you want to be added or removed.”

#gwynriel #gwyn berdara #azriel #gwynriel pirate au #nessian #feysand #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #cassian #rhysand #emerie

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vidalinav · 3 years

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Letting Things Get too Far: (One-shot) *Contains ACOSF spoilers

This is not the fic I was going to post and I am on the fence now about posting “Love is Bright Red, Hope is Dark Blue.” I might still do it, but I don’t know, because I don’t want the six chapters to influence my perception, but OMG I am so mad. I have to laugh because I’ve never been this mad before. And I know eventually it will be okay with the rest of the book, but I cannot deal NOW with what we’ve got. I will not be unbiased, no reader in the world is unbiased when they love a book, but oooo this is a little too much. Like if you’re not deeply enraged are you even a fan? Lol

The only way I deal with emotions is writing because I get really obsessive and I cannot stop thinking about something until I change my mind about it, so I wrote a fic based on those chapters to change my mind.

So Please don’t read this fic if you haven’t read the 5.5 chapters that were released (legally) to the world yesterday. I do have to say that I wrote this based on Italian translation and not of the one that was translated by someone here in English. But the general concept it the same.

Summary: Nesta gets threatening (some time after she’s “healed”)

Nesta could tell they were watching her. She supposed it must have seemed off to them that she was sitting in the dining room, reading a newspaper, a toast with jam and cup of tea to the side of her. Too casual, they must have thought. So very much unlike the Nesta they knew.

But one by one they sat—to the side of her of course since she’d chosen the head of the table. Nesta knew of only one other person who would dare sit across from her. She smirked behind the letters, the paper smelling of ink.

First Elain, sweet Elain with her soft, cautious good morning.

Then Feyre with her ruffled hair, matted and imperfect. Nothing like the High Lady she was supposed to be. How embarrassing, she thought, that Feyre had not yet learned that queens were to be perfect in every instance. Every circumstance.

Mor yawned loudly, stretching her arms above her head. The billowy blonde looked to Feyre as Nesta sipped a bit of tea. Green with a slice of lemon.

Amren was shushed as she came barreling in. Loudly and grumpy. Tired, perhaps, from her days going over the law books of Velaris code.

Rhysand kissed the apple of Feyre’s cheek, her little sister’s skin turning red. A honeyed gesture that made the rest gag mockingly for the way Rhys then bit down on the soft flesh and playfully pulled. He indeed sat where she thought he was going to—the only seat left closest to Feyre. His brows furrowed when he noticed her across from him, but Nesta didn’t give him the light of day.

The game had not begun.

Nesta waited for the missing player, ruffling the newspaper, the sound harsh in this room where all remained quiet. As if they were waiting for something.

Waiting for someone.

Azriel walked in, sitting to the side of her. He peered up at her. Wary and assessing. What are you up to?

She blinked at him surprised, not at all expecting that he’d be here for this—that he’d come down from the House of Wind to grace them with his presence. No matter. This talk wasn’t particularly for him, but she supposed he’d learn something too. As they all could.

The last one of them arrived with a flourish down the stairs. Bright and loud, stomping on the wood as if soldiers had been set loose in this house and not merely one male who made her smile sweetly despite herself.

He kissed her on the lips, a small peck. Something new for the others to witness. They looked at each other, mirth in their eyes—shock. But not from her happiness, Nesta thought, from their triumph. This broken girl who’d been mended when her heart was full.

“Sit down,” Nesta commanded softly, pointing her chin to the seat beside her—across from Azriel. She watched him look towards his brother, but Azriel merely shrugged.

“You waited for me?” Cassian laughed, the sound off even to her. His eyes squinting with concern… or was that vigilance she saw?

Oh, how dangerous he must know her to be to look at her like that.

Nesta smiled, her eyes softening. “I’d always for wait for you.”

Cassian lips set into a fine line at the sickly-sweet tone.

“In fact, I couldn’t have done this without you,” she gestured to the room, shrugging at the last moment. A strained laugh on her voice, “Or so they’ll say.”

Nesta set her newspaper down. The paper rumbling. Distantly she could hear the yells of soldiers, the clash of swords calling to her in her memory.

But none of that noise was here. No one said a gods-damned thing.

She sighed, sitting back in her chair, surveying them all. She could scent their fear, but Nesta didn’t know who it was coming from as she looked to food in the center. Vibrant jellies, eggs, and bacon. Much more food than any she’d consumed in her months away. She’d been reduced to plain porridge.

“Just say what you need to say, girl,” Amren said, gripping the table with her hands. Small and powerless.

Not as powerful as her anyway.

“You’re right of course, dear friend. I should get on with it as any other.”

Nesta lilted her head in a nod. “Consider this meeting long overdue. It was my fault really, for having been in such a low place. I suppose being constantly faced with death and brutality is a regular occurrence to the fae.”

She shrugged a nonchalant shoulder, huffing a laugh as Cassian’s gaze went to the skin of her collarbone from where her robe had slipped off from her shoulder. “Or so I’ve been endearingly reminded of for the past four months… It was my bad of course for letting things get too far.”

Nesta leaned forward, laying her head delicately on her hand. “Isn’t that what you said Feyre? I want to get the exact words right.”

But Feyre didn’t speak only stared at her with those blue eyes so much like hers but so different. They were made from different parts she supposed—different parts of their mother. Feyre got the stomach, and Nesta got her cold, melodic heart.

Queen indeed.

“Letting things get too far?” Nesta laughed, the sound loud even to her own ears. “Yes, I suppose that was true… But you know, this amazing thing happened when I was forced to follow this routine of yours. Have breakfast. Train. Have lunch. Work at the library. Have breakfast. Train. Have lunch. Work at the library. Over and over until I thought the monotony might kill me itself.”

Nesta smiled brightly to all of them, her eyes rolling over their gazes. Elain didn’t dare look at her. Nesta was not in the mood to comfort. What were older sisters for but to lead by example?

“If the magic and the trauma didn’t do it first,” she added.

She lowered her voice as if she were about to tell a story, engaging her audience until all they could do was listen.

“And then—like a miracle—Cassian was called to Vallahan and I went with him. Screw the rules, he said…” Nesta patted him in the shoulder. A good little soldier. “So easy for you to say that when the rules were not made for you.”

“You know what I discovered?” She sang.

Nesta waited for an answer, but no one would meet her gaze.

She looked to the one who knew so much about the outside world. The one who could never leave the one inside her head. “What did I discover Mor?”

Mor took a sip of her mimosa, cringing as she swallowed. “People fear you.”

“People fear me,” Nesta said, proudly.

She laughed, shaking her head at these beings in pajamas who thought so highly of themselves.

She lifted a shoulder, “for good reason of course. I certainly convinced the council of Vallahan. I always knew I had this power, but to wield it—to not let it control me but to be controlled—Glorious.”

“And you know what I learned in those two weeks?” Nesta lowered her voice, the words slipping out of her in a sneer. “That I have more power in my little pinky then you have in your entire body. All of you.”

She flipped her hair back, where a stray piece had fallen forward, “I got your little treaty signed of course. That was simple. You’d be surprised how easy it is for people to give up their will when they are pissing their pants. But no matter, all’s fair right?”

“Why are you tell us this?” Rhys asked. “What do you want?”

Her eyes went to his, those violent storms of subdued rage.

Tell me again to sit like a dog High Lord, she whispered into his mind. Rhys sat straight up, Feyre grasping his arm.

Nesta simply picked up her newspaper once more. The image in the center showing a great depiction of Velaris’s royal family.

“You ever make a decision on my behalf again,” her voice turning to soft silk. As sweet as a poison apple, “I will burn this city to the ground.”

Nesta tilted her head up, noting the marbled leaves engrained in the ceiling. The opulence. The fraudulent comfort of a house too large for two.

“I think I’ll start with this estate.”

She tutted. “Paints are usually flammable, aren’t they Feyre?”

She watched her sister swallow, the light of Rhysand’s eyes dimming to a darkness she thought might engulf them all.

Nesta could smell his fear…

She lifted the cup to her lips, “Understood?”

“Duly noted.”

The rest mumbled their assent.

And Nesta turned to the toast at her side, already spread with apricot jam. She picked up the bread and set it on Cassian’s plate. “I quite like these jams. We should get some before we go.”

“Too much sugar,” he replied slowly, as if he was getting used to the switch from her being threatening to caring. “You eat this, and you’ll be tired within the hour.”

Nesta pouted in response, wrinkling her nose, “You know, you really need to lighten up. Maybe you’ve gotten harsher in your old age.”

Cassian gave her a hard look.

“I mean, you’re in your 500s. You can barely keep up with the times,” She teased. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t keep up… in other areas.”

Cassian scoffed, lifting his lips in an outrageous laugh.

“Wait” Feyre called, holding her hands up in surrender. Nesta turned to her, lifting a curious brow. Her little sister blinked back, unsure if Nesta still wanted to destroy their home.

She would never destroy her little sister’s home...

But then Nesta thought of her shabby apartment laying in rubbles, ready to be rebuilt.

Oh, right.

“Will you continue to be our emissary?”

That was a question Nesta was not expecting…

“Oh, I don’t know,” She flourished. “I suppose we’ll see how it goes.”

She shrugged dramatically, “You follow these rules… and after a couple of months, I’ll re-assess your behavior. We can revisit me working with you all after some time has passed.”

“I don’t see how you’re allowed to do whatever you please, just by being threatening,” Amren noted.

Nesta smiled at the hypocrisy.

“Subsection B, Line 84 says I can,” Nesta sang, “As long as were making up rules.”

I’m laughing as I type this. This book is about to be a cathartic experience. It actually did make me feel better to write this.

I wish someone would release an epub already. Like fuck this shit, we’ve bought three versions, two versions, one versions, multiple versions. There’s only a week left. It hardly matters, release the PDF! The book was supposed to be out last month anyway. I’m not into self-righteousness right now, like the release of books is mostly about money. Sara has earned her part. I’m sure she’s happy. These are the people who hardly cared about promoting it at all. I think they threw this book out the window a long time ago and you know what they saved money on promotions too. They’ll be fine.

I’m clearly displacing my anger... But I cant handle this anymore... But I cant stay away.

#nessian #acosf spoilers #acosf #nesta archeron #cassian

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i-would-have-come-for-you · 3 years

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So...

I read ACOSF like a week ago and it's taken me a week to calm down enough to actually (rant about) review it.

7/10 is how I would actually rate the book and here's why:

There were obviously things which I actually really loved including, but not limited to:

Nesta/Gwyn/Emerie friendship and bond. I feel like that was a healthy portrayal of three females, all struggling with their inner demons, finding a way to heal together. I lived for that.

Nesta/Cassian content. Cassian lived up to my expectations by standing up for Nesta in front of the Inner Circle (Minus Azriel who we will be getting to in a second). He literally snaps at his High Lord in defense of his *Mate*, As he should!

Azriel! I love, love, loved Azriel in this book because of how non-judgemental he was towards Nesta's journey and healing process. He's the only person who didn't unnecessarily try to stick their nose in her business and actually made the effort to befriend her by treating her like a normal person.

Nesta's healing. I feel like she addressed her inner trauma and is on the way of healing with Cassian at her side.

Nesta powers. I love how Nesta learned to not be afraid of her powers: to use them for her benefit and how she learned to defend herself so she wouldn't have to rely on anyone else.

Eris. I feel like there's a lot more to Eris than just him being an asshole. He's clever, he's cunning and he knows how to survive in that court with his father holding the power...but I don't think that's all there is to him. I would love to see more of him.

Elain. I loved how bold she was in this book and how she spoke up for herself, making it clear that she was capable of making her own decision.

So now, onto the things I HATED in this book with a passion:

I hated The Inner Circle meddling with Nesta's life and imposing their decisions on her. Like...it's HER life? Everyone deals with grief in their own way. No one, absolutely no one judged Feyre for the way she was dealing with her grief and depression. And I'm not blindly defending Nesta saying she wasn't at fault about certain things, but I feel like if my family/ friends did that as an attempt to "help me", it would simply piss me off to the point where I wouldn't even want to associate with them anymore.

How toxic the inner circle was: Mor legit said they should throw Nesta into the court of nightmares, a place which still haunts her after 500 years. No screw you Mor. And don't even get me started on Rhysand because that man PISSED me off throughout the whole book. And Amren actually had the nerve to call Nesta toxic when she literally called her "a waste of life"

RHYSAND. DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THAT MAN. Its like he cares about one singular thing in his life: Feyre. Other people be damned as long as he can be in a happy bubble with his mate. He has no right degrading Nesta and threatening to kill her for telling her sister the truth, which for the record HE was keeping from his mate even though she deserved to know. Aside from all that, I wanted to strangle him when he ordered Azriel to stay away from Elain because it would ruin their relationship with the autumn court. THE HYPOCRISY.

Nesta's apologies to the people who least deserved it? RHYSAND and Amren? Oh hell no, she had no need to apologise to them and especially since they didn't even apologize to her once.

Nesta losing her powers. Typical SJM, ofc no one can be more powerful than her precious Rhysand. Why would I even expect anything else?

The Feysend centric drama in NESTA'S book. bruh, I have nothing against that couple but they've had 3 novels and a novella. Could this Book, literally centered around Nesta and her healing, NOT be centered around their drama? Please and thank you.

Anyways, these were just MY thoughts. Maybe not everyone agrees with them, but that's their opinion.

#acosf #a court of silver flames #nesta archeron #cassian #Nessian #Azriel #acotar #Acotar 4 #Gywn Berdara #Emerie #Rhysand what the actual fuck?#Heres hoping for Elriel

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ratabrasileira · 3 years

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When The Mask Falls Out

OneShot

Trigger Warning: Depressive Thoughts.

Disclaimer: Characters belongs to Sarah J. Maas.

Summary: After having a nightmare, Rhysand needs to spit some things out and Feyre is there to listen to him.

It was late at night when Feyre woke up without the warm of her mate at the right side of the bed. She searched for any piece of him, but nothing was found. She didn’t get surprise for the absence of Rhysand there, after all the war that they passed, it was common to one of them, sometimes both, be awake at the nights.

The sound of the water made her open her eyes. The darkness was spreading to the room, softly as any plume. It didn’t seem angry or scared, it was tired, starless-tired.

Feyre got to her feet, following the bond to her mate. Thanks to Helion's gift, she was able to light the path to their room to the bathroom.

"Rhys?" He was lying in the bathtub, bubbles and bubbles surrounding him. The night wasn’t visible outside. They were the night.

"Sorry. I didn't want to wake you up" His countenance was so… broken.

"No, no, it’s ok.” Feyre said before sitting in the floor next to him. “What's going on?"

Rhysand didn’t answer immediately. He avoided to look at her, to look at anything.

“I dreamed with her” Feyre let him to continue. It was all about that, giving each other space.

"I..." He breathed; stopped for a second before the avalanche of feelings was spited out. "I just... I feel dirty, I'm dirty. I'm fucked up. Every day, I have to remember that it's done, we are in peace, but my brain can't realize that it's ok, so I constantly feel that something bad is going to happen and this scary me so much, Feyre."

He said with such pain that Feyre felt her throat tight and her eyes burn. She knew things weren’t all better. They had talked, a lot, mostly after Nyx’s birth. But still, she knew that Rhys was hiding his feelings; from their family, from her and even from him himself. She could feel that in the bond.

"And I screw up. I fucked up so many times with everyone, and it sucks because I just want you all safe." He kept, silver lines forming in his deep-blue eyes. "And sometimes... I'm this reality, dimension, that it's all a dream, so I have to back up to realize that it's real, it is all real and I'm not dreaming and I won't wake up by her side and pleasure her or kill for her. And every time that I remember about Under the Mountain I feel dirty, I feel… the need of clean myself because all the filth, all the blood, it just doesn’t go away. And I know, I know we have to live with it, but…"

Tears was rolling through Rhys’ cheek while he was catching his breath back. By that time, Feyre’s own cheeks were wet.

"I'm still young and scared of my powers, I'm still Under the Mountain, I'm still there when she killed you, I'm still in the war, in both wars, I'm still when... When you and Nyx..."

"I'm stil crucifying myself for what I did to you, Under the Mountain and… for hiding the pregnancy thing from you... I mean, you were right and I did that knowing how you would react and does it make me better than him?” Feyre knew exactly that him meant Tamlin. She knew he couldn’t stand to voice his name, no because of their enmity, but because what he meant for Feyre. ”I don't want to be like him, and don't want to be like my father either. I don't want you to hate me, and I know, we talked about it, but it still running in my head sometimes."

"And I'm tired. One day, I'm fine, but... Now? I'm tired of everything. 500 years being me and everything through what I passed for… It all get back in my head and I just feel overwhelmed. And it's silly, stupid, because I was supposed to live with it and I feel so weak. It wasn't to let me this way. But then, I keep thinking and thinking and it brings me to my mother and my sister and... I killed both. I can convince myself that I didn't, but I did, Feyre. I was stupid, dumb, and…”

“And I’m just tired.”

They remained in silence. There were so many words and so many more feelings. Feyre partly knew what was coming for, although she didn’t expect it to be like this.

Feyre entered in the bathtub still with her gown. Rhysand looked at her, scared, while shaking his head, but she just entered there and hugged him. Hugged him as strongly as she could while sending the starry night overcome the starless one.

"It's ok, my love." She whispered in his chest. "You can feel tired and overwhelmed once and I'll be here for you as you did for me when I felt the same. You gave so much, Rhys. So much. If things are down, I'll be here for you to handle things, ok?"

Rhysand held her tightly; his mate, his friend, his soul.

Feyre kept saying comfy things for Rhys until the true night was visible in the wide windows of the room. She was glad that he said it all: what it was still bothering him, which things would never go away. How broken they both could be, but together… Together both could repair the little pieces that belong to each other.

Because wherever and whenever they would go, they would go together.

#tw: depressive thoughts #lmao #acotar #acotar fic #feysand #rhysand #feyre #feyre archeron #my fic #my writing #acotar fanfic #rhysand's fic

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bookstantrash · 3 years

Text

A/N: Here it’s folks! Final part of my Queen inspired AU. I wanted to post it yesterday but got busy with school, sorry for the small delay. I hope you enjoy it! ☺️

Somebody to love — Part Two

Cassian knew something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.

He had received Nesta’s break up text three days ago out of the blue, and had been trying to reach her ever since.

She had blocked his contact. Had left her apartment.

So he contacted Emerie, which also didn’t answer any of his questions.

He didn’t have much luck with her sisters either.

His friends knew something had happened between him and Nesta, but hadn’t pried after seeing Cassian’s distressed face.

He hadn’t wanted to go out today. Specially after Azriel — Azriel of all people — suggested they go to the karaoke bar.

But he didn’t want to worry his friends any longer. And it had been an awful long time since they had gone out with Mor.

However, when they walked in and he heard a familiar voice — her voice — he wanted to grab Azriel and kiss him in gratitude.

Cassian couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Couldn’t stop listening to her sing.

He had always loved her voice. And when they had come here for their first date and he heard her sing... that was it for him.

When Nesta sang it was as if the whole world stopped to listen. She connected with the song, the way she felt everything so intensely giving a deeper meaning to the lyrics.

‘That’s my chance’ he thought while Nesta finished the song ‘I’m going to talk to her right now’

But when their eyes met and he saw how pissed she became, and how she started to argue with Feyre — no doubt thinking her younger sister had spilled the beans to Rhys, who in turn told him — he knew he had to act fast. So he did the first thing he thought of.

He got on the stage.

And decided he was going to win her back by redoing their first date, although with some slight changes.

“Nesta Archeron?” Cassian said on the microphone, hoping his voice didn’t give away how nervous he was.

He saw her nod in the crowd, and almost released a sight of relief. He had caught her off guard, good.

“This song is for you”

He just hoped she stayed long enough to hear what he had to say.

This thing called love, I just can't handle it

This thing called love, I must get round to it

Cassian had been head over heels for Nesta Archeron since five years ago when he met her at Feyre’s birthday party.

He became friends with her.

He had teased her.

He had shamelessly flirted with her.

Until, after much pestering from his part, she finally agreed to go on a date with him.

I ain't ready

Crazy little thing called love

In their first date, he had sang “Treasure”, by Bruno Mars.

He had been nervous as hell. He had this super elaborate plan on his head that went flying out of the window when he heard her sing.

He knew she must feel at least something towards him, if the way she reacted to his flirting was any indication.

Or the way he had caught her glancing at him when she thought nobody was looking.

This thing (this thing)

Called love (called love)

It cries (like a baby)

In a cradle all night

Still, Cassian couldn’t help but think that he had misinterpreted her.

Maybe all of that was just his mind playing tricks on him. Just wishful thinking of his.

But Cassian sang the damn song, and when he got off stage and came face to face with an expressionless Nesta, he felt his heart stop beating.

It swings (woo woo)

It jives (woo woo)

It shakes all over like a jelly fish

I kinda like it

Crazy little thing called love

Yet it went back to normal just fine after Nesta gave him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

And she kissed him.

Grabbed his T-shirt and pulled him towards her, smashing her lips against his.

Cassian thought if he died right then and there he would have been the happiest man to have ever lived.

There goes my baby

She knows how to rock 'n' roll

Deciding to spice things up a bit, Cassian jumped from the stage. And started to dance towards a very much shocked Nesta.

She drives me crazy

She gives me hot and cold fever

Then she leaves me in a cool cool sweat

He was singing for her. Only her. Screw the rest of the bar. Screw his friends who were probably filming it all.

Nesta Archeron was the only one right now who deserved his attention and thoughts.

I gotta be cool, relax, get hip

And get on my track's

Cassian grabbed her hand with his free one, pulling her closer to him.

And then he was dancing with her.

Take a back seat, hitch-hike

And take a long ride on my motorbike

Cassian could swear he saw the corner of Nesta’s mouth turn up in a tentative smile.

He cheered internally.

She hadn’t punched him yet. That was a victory.

Until I'm ready

Crazy little thing called love

He stopped dancing. Stopped singing.

Never mind that there was still two verses left. He had to take his shoot now.

Cassian blindly gave the microphone to a guy standing near them.

“You” he said, not taking his eyes or hands away from Nesta “It’s your turn. Go on now”

Taking the hint, the guy grabbed the microphone and went to the stage, Feyre, Elain and Emerie also taking the opportunity to leave them alone, going to greet their friends.

But that small moment was enough to make Nesta snap back to reality.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she said, snatching her hand and taking a step back from him.

“Nesta” he breathed “Talk to me sweetheart. What happened?”

“Her” she answered, pointing at where their friends where standing “Her is what happened. How could you? How could you bring her here!”

“Wait, you’re talking about Mor?” to say Cassian was confused was an understatement. He was completely lost.

“Oh, so she has a name.” Nesta snorted, but Cassian knew her. He knew she was hurt. But he didn’t see why.

“Nesta, explain what this is all about. Because I’ve no damn idea what’s going on.”

“I saw you. With her. I finished my book before the deadline and wanted to make a surprise for you” she stopped to take a deep breath, and Cassian could see she was trying not to cry “I saw both of you on the sidewalk when I stopped at a traffic light. And you looked so happy, so carefree.”

“Nesta—“

“You have been so nervous around me these past weeks. I thought—I thought you were cheating on me. That you were trying to break things up but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. So I did it first” she bit her lip, and Cassian didn’t know if he should hug her for all the pain she must be feeling or shake her for thinking he could cheat on her.

“Mor is Rhysand’s cousin” he began, trying to appeal to her “She has been living abroad these past years as a diplomat, that’s why you never met her”

Nesta opened her mouth to say something, but Cassian beat her to it.

“She’s a childhood friend. I was happy because we haven’t seen each other in ages” he pointed at the redhead that was chatting animatedly with Rhysand “And because we both had rather good news. Mor is engaged to Vassa. She came back to visit and invite us all to the wedding.”

“Oh” Nesta opened her mouth in surprise, her cheeks pinking in shame.

“Oh indeed” Cassian laughed, shaking his head.

“But you just said that you ‘both had great news’. What do you mean?” it was Nesta’s turn to be confused.

“This is the good news” Cassian said, getting down on one knee “I have been nervous and quiet these past weeks because all I could think of was how to come up with a perfect plan. I thought of asking you after you finished your book, so you’d be less worried and we could celebrate both things in style”

He took a small velvet box from his jacket and Nesta’s eyes widened in shock.

“Cassian—”

“I have been carrying this with me for a long time now” he prayed she didn’t notice how his hands were shaking as he opened the small box “I love you Nesta Archeron and I want you to get through your tick-head that you are the only woman out there for me. You have ruined me for everyone else”

“I— Cassian, you don’t have to do this because of my insecurities”

“Did you not hear me woman? I absolutely adore you. I worship the ground you walk. I’m doing this because I want to. Because I want to do like Beyoncé said and put a ring on what I like. So please say yes, because I won’t be able to suffer anymore heartbreak than what I’ve felt these past three days” he took a deep breath “Be my wife Nesta Archeron. Be my wife and fight me, flirt with me and love me”

“Yes. A thousand times yes” happy tears were running down Nesta’s face as Cassian placed the wedding band on her finger — a single gold ring adorned by a single round-cut blue stone, the exact colour of her eyes.

“It was about bloody time” he growled, getting up to kiss Nesta, pouring all of his love and adoration for her in that kiss.

They were so focused on each other that they did not notice the bar applauding them, Feyre and Emerie crying, Rhysand filming it all while Mor and Vassa watched everything with curiosity, or Amren raising her drink in a silent toast.

And they didn’t see Azriel and Elain high-fiving each other, both of them smiling with self satisfaction.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030-blog @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list}

#sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic #nessian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #cassian

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stokingthemidnightflame · 4 years

Text

Xanthorrhoeas: Fire and Flame (1/6)

(AO3 link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25173700/chapters/61005721#main)

So I did a thing...wrote a fic. I hope you like it!

Xanthorrhoeas

It’s a little known fact that lingering in the ashes of fire, the beautiful Xanthorrhoeas can spring up again.

Six years after a nasty breakup, Nesta Jia Archeron and Cassian Ramirez still can’t seem to get away from each other.

As Nesta seeks to make sure that life-saving healthcare ends up in the right hands, and far away from Hybern’s hands, she begins to attract threat after threat. Underneath carefully curated pearls, stilettos and tweed jackets, Nesta’s a viper waiting to strike. But she’s fresh out of law school, and the Archeron sisters are wading into dangerously flammable territory.

Where flame appears, heat follows close behind.

Cassian Ramirez is ex-Marine. After two tours, a breakup, and one honourable discharge, Ramirez Securities is a leading digital and personal security company. Nesta has always been his kryptonite; and when he gets the call, there’s no question - he’s always going to have her back. Semper fidelis. Always faithful.

And maybe, just maybe, something else will bloom too.

----

Chapter 1: Fire and Flame

She wanted to be here about as much as Rhysand seemed to want Keir to be here. His arm was curled protectively around Feyre, both dressed to the nines as they greeted each guest with smiles and hugs. The gala was yet another one of Rhysand’s obligations as the CEO of the massive technology conglomerate, Velaris. There were perks to being a thirty something heir of a recently deemed Fortune 500 company: thousands of employees, a healthy salary and almost anything money could buy, but it did not preclude Rhys from having to deal with pompous old white men and their entitled children. Tomas being one of them. Nesta didn’t want to think about her ex, who she saw with two women wrapped around him in a corner.

Unfortunately, she was about two seconds away from pouring her virgin margarita on his smarmy face. He grinned as he saw Nesta and gave an arrogant half-wave, half-beckon, still ensconced by the two blondes, each wearing a tiny scrap of a dress. She ignored him resolutely.

That fucking asshole. Two years, and all she had for it was a shitload of trauma and therapy - six months and still counting.

“Nesta, there you are.” Helion, smoothly said as he finally arrived, wrapping a soft, manicured hand around her elbow. In the nick of time too, as Nesta’s fingers tightened around the half-empty margarita glass.

“You’re late,” she replied stubbornly, trying to be offended by Helion’s charming smile and dazzling beauty. Her date for the night, Helion looked like he had stepped fresh off the runway in a black, double-breasted satin tuxedo. Fuck. She needed to get laid. It had been months since Hybern Co. had started a massive patents war with Velaris, and Feyre had asked her for help. She had never been able to refuse Feyre, which was how she had ended up working the case with a bunch of overqualified associates with half a brain between them. And how she ended up with exactly no time for herself.

Harvard grads were not all they were cracked up to be.

“My apologies. I only just came from a meeting, darling,” he responded smoothly as he continued to guide her gently across the room. They moved further away from Tomas and his oh-so-punchable face. With a start, she realised that he had guided her all the way to the middle of the dance floor. Screw Helion and his charm.

“May I have this dance?” A voice came from behind her. Startled, Nesta whirled around and came face-to-face with Cassian Ramirez. Formerly known as fiancé. But that was a long time ago, Nesta.

She arched a single brow, nodding to Helion as he let go of her hand.

As Cassian offered an open hand, she composed herself, trying not to think about how handsome Cassian looked in his slick burgundy suit. She was a sucker for a good suit, and his hair was tied back, making his dark brown honey eyes all the more prominent. It didn’t help that he had worn that exact suit on their second date. It had been so long, but she could still remember him in exacting detail.

Nesta hasn’t laid eyes on Cassian Ramirez for at least a year and a half. Not since Tomas started getting violent. And even before then, they were on tenuous terms. Things had never been the same after she had stormed out of their apartment six years ago, her heart savagely ripped out and stepped upon. Nothing good ever came after that. It was all tortured glances from the other side of galas, avoiding bubbly messages from Feyre and Elain and Rhysand and Azriel to go out with them! and the unending ellipsis of unsent texts. Over and over again.

“She’s all yours,” Helion said, quirking his eyebrows. Nesta reflexively pinched Helion, and he winced before hurrying away. Cassian in the meantime, was gazing into her eyes, She could feel her hands start to sweat under his intense gaze, and as she tried to wipe her hands discretely on the thorned roses stitched into her stiff silk dress, Cassian offered a hand that Nesta took.

“I uh - ” as he stood in front of her, he suddenly seemed lost for words. Cassian's hand was warm and calloused and still perfect for her. Once, these caresses had been as natural and fluid as breathing. Even with the rift that stood between them, it still felt so right.

She smiled serenely and ignored Cassian’s fumble, patently aware of Tomas in the corner. “We should probably dance.” The words hover in the air, an olive branch that she wonders if Cassian really deserves. Regardless, it doesn’t matter. They can’t make a scene tonight.

And if she’s telling the truth, she doesn’t want to either. After Tomas...Nesta craves the kind of blissful innocence she had with Cassian. Lingering kisses and slow mornings, late nights with coffee and curled up with each other.

“Uh-yes.” Cassian blushed, his olive skin flushing a cardinal as bright as her dress. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?” He grasped the olive branch, as Nesta slid into his arms, his hand drifting to a respectable, brotherly place on her waist as he guided her into a delicate spin. Her skin was as delicate as ever, and her as her hair grazed his hand, he shivered.

“Good.” The overture is gone as fast as it came. Her tone is brisk and terse, an end to the conversation. Why did he have to ask that of all questions? Unbidden, her eyes fall upon Tomas again, and she felt her lips purse tightly.

Cassian, perceptive as ever, gracefully glances over, his eyes darkening as they landed on the arrogant lawyer in the corner.

“Yes, I heard that you got together with Mandray,” he said tightly.

Nesta’s fiery gaze slid back to him, as she hissed, “That’s none of your business. Why are you here anyway? Last I heard, you had left for San Francisco.” You were the one that left me. Again and again and again. The thought bubbled up, and Nesta squashed it, willing her tone to remain firm and steady.

He grimaced but didn't fall for Nesta's bait. “You know why I’m back.” His jaw was clenched tight, his gaze firmly upon her as they kept on dancing. Nesta forced yet another smile with gritted teeth.

“Fuck Azriel. That’s not his right and he goddamn knows it!”

“Hybern is dangerous. Don’t be stubborn. You know better than that.” Impassive and cold, his words ignite a fury in Nesta.

“Stubborn? You have the nerve to call me stubborn? After that stunt you pulled-”

His brows furrowed in pain and she felt the urge to dig her nails into the pad of her palm. Anything to stop herself from apologizing for the gaping wound she had re-opened with half a sentence but before she could say something he cleared his throat and said quietly, “I’m sorry. That was - a poor choice of words on my part.”

Nesta scoffed, her fury blanketed again. She didn’t say a word.

“We really do have to get you a security detail,” he pressed instead.

“You mean you.” She accused. He doesn’t object. Azriel would never have just asked anybody to protect Nesta.

“I don’t need a security detail. I’m fine. I know how to kick somebody in the balls,” she said emphatically, trying to resist the urge to rip Cassian a new one. She doesn’t want to hurt him. Not really. Not the way he hurt her. “And if Hybern comes after me in any other way, I will systematically destroy them.”

“As delightfully painful and visceral that sounds, some things require a more delicate touch.” he said, suddenly smirking in a false bravado that Nesta sees right through. “Hybern will be after you in more ways than one. I can help with that. Or have you forgotten my degree in-”

“Cybersecurity and computer science. I remember. Doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself. Elain and Feyre need it more than me.” Her voice is brusque and words to the point. I don’t need this. And even if I did...you would be the last person I ever asked.

His only response was a growl. The smirk disappeared as fast as it came.

“You know as well as I do that Feyre and Elain both have martial arts training. You were the only one who never wanted to learn. Which is fine, but they can protect themselves physically. Unless if you suddenly earned a black belt in the past two years, that kick in the balls and viper mouth won’t keep them down.

“Please, sweetheart,” she hears him beg. Was that anguish in his voice? The nickname dropped so naturally from his lips, but as soon as he says it she flinched, seizing up. You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you? A pretty little thing... The memory comes back so swiftly that she almost reels. Cassian lifted his hands from her immediately, his eyes questioning.

She pursed her lips firmly. “Don’t call me that.”

Cassian bowed his head and Nesta sees a glimpse of torment, can just barely hear him curse himself as he bites down on his lip. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” It's not why you think. It's much worse.

They dance along to three more songs, before Nesta announced she was tired. She had made her presence known, and ensured that Tomas knew she was in peak ability for their impeding legal battle. Meeting Cassian had not been part of the plan. It left her with the kind of bone-deep weariness that she hasn’t felt since pulling three all-nighters in a row as a law intern.

“Let me drive you home. You still haven’t bought a car, right?” he offered. There was no denying that. Nesta had never seen the need for a car in New York, but she scowled anyway as she disparagingly asked him if he was drunk.

“Not a drop,” he promised. When they had been together, they had rarely drank. Part of Nesta had always wondered if he had reverted back to his pre-Nesta college days of drinking after their less-than-ideal breakup. She glanced over at Feyre and Rhysand who were still dancing together happily, nodding a goodbye, before waving to Azriel and Elain. All of them...in their lover’s cuddles. A wave of jealousy washed over her before she clamped it down, breathing out quickly.

“Fine. You remember where I live, right?” She asked, letting him drape her matching red coat over her shoulders. Watching Cassian’s hands linger on the ruby red coat before he helped her into it almost made her regret wearing it.

Red had always been their thing.

---

How could he forget her home? The brownstone, with its first and second floors decked out in rich brocade and tapestry, hardwood floors for visitors. But then, her third and fourth floors; soft modern furnishings. Carpet so thick that his feet sunk into it. A walk-in closet, wholly converted into a sunken lounging area, snug and cosy surrounded by her favourite novels. Late nights with Nesta curled into him as he read romance novels to her or they watched some trashy flick.

His tongue suddenly felt swollen. He couldn’t breath for a moment. Instead, he nodded, opening the passenger door for her as the valet pulled his car up.

He had to get a grip on himself.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, looking over to check on Nesta. As he does, his eyes fall onto her monogrammed leather clutch.

NJA.

“So you’re Azriel's girl with the fancy monogrammed bracelet,” Cassian says. He dangles the golden chain with its delicate monogrammed heart in front of her, but frowns when he spots the faint tan line on her writs. Immediately, he feels like an ass for playing around with something clearly so sentimental to the girl.

Nesta’s eyes look up as he slides over her gold bracelet. “I'm not Azriel's girl." As she glances over at him properly, she glares and adds, "And you’re the trust fund baby. Not sure why you’re talking,” she hits back. She grabs the bracelet and clasps it on immediately. No thank you. She had left it behind in the apartment Azriel and Cassian had shared, and Cassian had taken it upon himself to bring it back to her.

Cassian snorts. “Clearly. As if wearing a monogrammed 24-carat gold bracelet isn't a sign of being a trust fund kid."

Nesta pushes up her glasses, puckers her lips and says primly, “I, unlike you, actually pay for my own things."

Cassian shrugs and then foolhardily remarks, "Not if I take you to dinner." He smirks, the kind of panty-dropping grin that has worked so effectively in the past.

"In your dreams, asshole."

Three months later, he knew he was in love with her. She was it for him. He graduated college, while she continued law school. Cassian had moved into her brownstone, bequeathed by her mother. He had promised to never hurt her, that he would always be there for her.

But somewhere along the line, he had fucked it up. Sent her running to Tomas. His hand clenched, fingers digging into his palm, sending a dull pain through his body. It’s her life. He doesn’t get a say. And he knows, knows that he would never impede upon her choices. But he feels a lot.

“Cassian?” Nesta’s confused voice cut through and he ripped his gaze from the purse.

“Sorry. Let’s get going.” His voice is short. Terse. But Nesta doesn’t question it, instead settling into the leather seat and sighing, her eyes fluttering shut.

He remembered how social events always drained her. She loved dressing up but hated talking to everyone. It exhausted her, having to put on that facade of unthreatening politeness, when she was really a viper. A viper in pearls and stilettos, ball gowns and dripping in diamonds, but a viper nonetheless.

As he pulled up, he realised with a start that Nesta had fallen asleep. Her loose, dark hair was strewn across her shoulders, and Cassian wants more than anything to tuck it behind her ear. To do anything so that the way her forehead was creased, even in sleep, softened and-

“Nesta,” he said abruptly instead. He can’t keep fantasising. It’s not fair for her, not when it’s his fault. His fault, his fault, his fault. When he sees her, all he can see is his mistakes, again and again and again.

Her face reddened as she fumbles with her clutch. “Let me check everything’s okay, alright?” He reassured her.

Nesta nods without a fight, still tired. She passed him her keys without a fuss, following him as they walk up the stairs to the brownstone.

As soon as he unlocked the front door, he noticed the heavy, musk scent. It’s so out of place with the light, lavender and floral scents that Nesta has always favoured. But maybe something changed after you left. It wasn’t until he nearly tripped over the box right behind her door that he realised something was very, very wrong. As he inhaled, he tried to keep his stomach from lurching.

“Nesta, I want you to stay calm, okay?” he said carefully, pulling out his gun. Her eyes widened, her hand trembling as she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Liar. Liar. Liar. It thrummed in his head, making it hard to concentrate. “Just call Azriel, okay? Tell him to bring the Level 1 team. And hurry.” She nodded, pulling out her phone and dialling. As she started talking, he glanced back at the box.

Inside the cardboard box, was a decapitated snake nestled amongst red roses. The same cardinal as Nesta’s dress. It doesn’t take a genius to realise the death threat. Not when he was pretty certain the snake was a viper. The stench wasn’t just from the dead snake, he realised.

The roses had been dipped in blood.

Cassian took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his hand. Focus. Nesta needs you.

Because Nesta’s never been one to listen to Cassian, she had, unbeknownst to him, walked over and looked over his shoulder. He only realised when he heard her gasp in fear, hand reaching up to her throat as if she was being choked.

Immediately, Cassian turned around, holding her. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he promised. “I’ve got you. Do you still have the go bag we made?” He remembers teaching her how to be safe in the old, cavernous brownstone. He had bought her the grey cargo bag two weeks after they started dating. He had probably come on a little strong, but at the time, he didn’t care.

Nesta clutched onto his shirt, but he felt her nod against him. Selfishly, a part of him feels gratified that she still feels some measure of comfort in him. The rest of him hates himself for even thinking that at this moment. “Okay. Once Azriel and my team gets here, we’ll get the bag and you’ll spend the night at my place. Is that okay?”

She let out a sob, and Cassian tightened his grip on her. After what seemed like an eternity, Azriel pulled up, his face drawn and tight. Azriel and Nesta had been friends for longer than even Cassian had known Azriel. They were twin souls of fire and ice, with a deep understanding of each other.

Cassian nodded to Azriel, his eyes a silent order to him. Azriel inclined his head ever so slightly, and Cassian returned his focus to Nesta. “Azriel’s going to get your bag. Then we’re going to get out of here.”

There was a single nod from Nesta as they walked towards the minivan, Rowan sliding open the door for them. Two minutes later, Azriel returned with the grey duffel bag that made Cassian’s heart clench. It hurt more than he could say that Nesta had kept the bag. But it lit a new fire in him too.

Nesta had regained her poise, sitting ramrod straight on the bench, seatbelt clicked into place. As Cassian and Azriel took seats on either side of her, she didn’t say a word. But her hands were clenched so tight, her knuckles were white and her skin was blanched.

“We’ve got you,” Cassian said quietly as he looked at Azriel over Nesta. Azriel’s face was easy to read: Don’t fuck this up. You better not make me regret my decision to call you.

As Rowan drove, the only thing Cassian could think was she’s in danger again. I have to protect her.

I swear, I won’t fail you ever again Nesta.

I swear it on my life.

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #feyre #rhys #acotar #acomaf #acofas #modern au #viper #feysand #elriel #rowaelin #throne of glass #nesta x cassian

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abraxos-is-toothless · 4 years

Text

Surprises (7)

Ah here is chapter 7, hoping for 8 tomorrow if all goes well:))

Previous Chapter.

Masterlist.

Ask Box.

Warnings: In this chapter there is talks of past violence and death. There will be swearing, mature themes, mentions of alcohol at times, and mentions of sex. I will update warnings as I go if needed.

My beautiful beta @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares was very happy, I’ll leave it at that;)

Chapter 7

—————

Azriel decided to take her to a place he only ever went to alone, not even bringing his brothers out here, the ones that meant something anyway. He’d brought her to his old house, or, at least, what was left of it. The outhouse where his mother spent the majority of her time was still standing, but the main house was no more than cinders, the remaining few parts of its foundation were the only signs that it had existed in the first place. Elain was a quiet presence beside him, her hand linked with his again- he had told her that path was overgrown and didn’t want her to trip, but he just wanted an excuse to do so once more. When they were finally in his mother’s old house, he told her to sit while he got her a glass of water, ignoring her protests that she was fine. She didn’t look fine at all, she looked like she was going to be sick or something and he told her as such.

He took a seat opposite Elain after handing her the glass, the reason they were here coming back to him when she spoke again.

“It’s the morning sickness. Well I should say daytime sickness, because that’s how it feels. That’s why I don’t look too great.”

Azriel’s mouth was moving before he could stop the words, yet he didn’t regret them.

“You look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”

She blushed then, ducking her head said slightly, and the sight made his chest hurt. It wasn’t just that, it was looking at her in the place he grew up, looking as though she belonged. Like she was meant to be there with him. He stopped those thoughts in their tracks when the words ‘morning sickness’ actually clicked something in his mind, and he forced himself to ask about the reason for such a thing. “You know, I meant what I said, about the baby. I really would like to be there for you, for both of you. If you’ll let me, that is. But I’m not asking to jump into some kind of relationship; I thought maybe we could try to be friends? We never had that to begin with and I would like to get to know you. Even if we weren’t in this situation, I’d still want that.”

His heart broke a little bit when she looked back at him with tears in her eyes, just like back at the diner. He had wanted to wipe them away then, but hadn’t been sure whether or not she would let him. Screw it. Moving from his own chair, he got down on his knees in front of her, gently lifting his hands to cup her cheeks and used his thumbs to brush them away.

“Please don’t cry, El. Please, I didn’t mean to upset you. Gods, how do I keep fucking this up?”

Mother above, she was even more stunning up close. There were little freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose, her eyes were so bright with hope he never wanted to look anywhere else. And that mouth. He just wanted to kiss it. All of the time. Elain giggled then, a soft and adorable sound that he wanted engraved into his brain. She smiled when she spoke once more, and he thought he’d died right there and gone to heaven.

“You didn’t upset me, Az. Stupid hormones are making me cry over the littlest things. But did you mean that? Are you sure this is what you want? Because you can walk away, you don’t have to bear this with me, I’d understand.”

If Azriel was any other idiotic, pig–headed teenage boy, he might have taken her up on that offer. Might have walked away from them and never looked back. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He always knew he’d wanted kids, and yes this might be earlier than he had planned, but maybe this is how it was meant to happen. And he knew for certain he was not going to be his father, he wasn’t going to let his child grow up thinking its father didn’t want it. Didn’t love it. So, he nodded and smiled back, and answered with all the determination he could muster.

“Yes, this is what I want. I’m all in, Elain.”

He hadn’t expected it, but she brought him into a bone crushing hug, like she hadn’t expected him to agree with her. Hesitantly, he put his own arms around her shoulders and rested his cheek on the top of her head. She smelt so good, fit so right in his arms that he never wanted to let her go.

Azriel thought he could get used to this and decided to do everything in his power to keep it.

oOoOo

It had been a few weeks since their talk about the baby, and Elain found that she was smiling almost constantly. Azriel had been texting her every day, asking her how she was, and for the first few days her answer was simply just ‘I’m fine’. He seemed to know that she never really meant it, phoning her one evening a few days ago, to call her out on her bullshit while she was lying in bed.

Elain had just been about to put her phone down, telling Lucien goodnight, when it lit up with Azriel’s name on an incoming call. She hesitated for a moment as he’d never called before, but then told herself to stop being stupid because they’d talked in person, there was no difference.

“Hi Az. Are you alright?” Why the hell was he calling?

“I’m going to ask you a question, El, and I want you to be honest with me. How are you feeling?”

“Wha- fine. I feel fine Az, I’ve told you.”

There was a huff of breath on the other end, a frustrated huff, like he was mad at her. But she didn’t know why, didn’t know what she had done to piss him off. Everything was okay when they texted only a few hours ago.

“Feyre and Nesta were talking at lunch today,” fuckity fuck, “they were saying that you were sick this morning with a bad headache, so you didn’t come into school. But when I asked you this morning, you said there was nothing wrong. You said you trusted me Elain, but you’re not telling me things. I don’t ask just to ask, I genuinely want to know, and I know I can’t begin to understand, but I did this to you and I just want you tell me that yeah, sometimes you feel like complete shit.”

What did she do to deserve this boy?

“I’m sorry. It’s just, you already feel terrible about the whole thing, I don’t want to make you feel any worse.”

It was true. Whenever that night was brought up, when they were trying to remember things or tell the other that they had remembered something new, he always got this distant look on his face. And when she asked about it, it was always the same answer. He wished that it hadn’t been like that, wished he could do it all differently, to take care of her how she deserved and be gentler than he had. He was always scared of hurting her, when he’d already hurt her too much. However, he finished every time saying that he’d never regret her or the baby, because now they were all he wanted. Thinking of that made her say how she felt, even though she didn’t want to add to his guilt. But he’d asked.

“Every day, I feel so goddamn awful Az, and it sucks ass.”

He laughed then and gods, she would do whatever she could to make him do it again, again, again.

Elain looked at him now, standing at the kitchen counter, in the house he’d explained was his mother’s. His real mother’s before she died. That story, when he’d told her, had made her cry for what felt like hours. His biological brothers had decided that day that they had wanted to play with fire, using him as a test dummy. They had him pinned and set fire to his hands, not letting him go until he was screaming at the top of his lungs. When they did, the flames were gone although the burning sensation was still there, his flight or fight response kicked in, and he just bolted, running all the way to Rhysand’s house. He was only eight. And by the time Rhys’ mother- a nurse, he had remembered his friend telling him–had cleaned up his hands and he’d gathered the courage to go home, the whole place was ablaze, taking his family with it. She pushed that to the back of her mind and couldn’t help her smile as she watched him make her a sandwich, cutting it into to small squares so she didn’t eat too much and make herself sick, knowing that she couldn’t really keep any food down.

Azriel sat across from her after handing her the plate, just watching her, but after a few minutes, she had noticed a contemplative look become apparent on his face. Lifting a piece of her sandwich, she asked him with a bit of amusement, “Why are you looking at me like that?” He shook his head at that and turned away from her.

“It’s uh, it’s nothing. Eat; you said you’d barely had anything today.”

Not suspicious at all that, was it?

“I thought we agreed to stop lying to each other. You can tell me. What’s wrong?”

“I just... I just really want to kiss you right now.”

Elain was hearing things. She’d finally lost the plot. He couldn’t have possibly just said what she thought he did, there was just no way. The butterflies that were always in her stomach whenever she was near him became ten times worse. He couldn’t want Elain. Yes, they’d spent that one night together, but they were both drunk, he was probably just going for what was closest in his hazy state of arousal. And sure, there were kisses he’d placed on her cheek when they managed to get some time alone but they were just friendly. He’d asked to be friends. All of a sudden, her chair was being dragged around next his, and he lifted one hand to cup her cheek.

“May I kiss you, Elain?”

It was actually happening then. She’d fantasized about this a few times since he’d first brought her here, but she never thought she’d get to experience the real thing. Closing her eyes tightly, she nodded to let him know it was a yes. That it was okay. But for Azriel, that wasn’t enough.

“Open your eyes, El. I need to be sure; I’m not taking something that isn’t mine again.”

She did so, and staring into those beautiful hazel eyes, Elain let out a breathy, “Yes.”

He leaned in slowly, so slowly she thought he wasn’t moving at all. But then she felt his breath on her lips and his eyes were flicking between her own and her mouth. She closed them again at the first touch, just a peck. Then another. A few more until his mouth was opening slightly against hers, and she followed his lead, not really having kissed anyone- the ones she didn’t remember not counting. For a minute, it was a clash of teeth and tongue, but he wasn’t put off and stayed slow as not to rush her. Gods, he tasted good, like mint and something she couldn’t quite place. She brought her hand up to tangle in his hair, making him groan against her mouth, causing her to giggle.

Az pulled back slightly then, smiling at her as he asked, “We can go as slow as you’d like, but I want you to know that no matter how this makes me feel,” he brought her hand to his chest and she gasped at the feeling of his racing heart, “the choice will always be yours.”

Nodding enthusiastically, she kissed him this time, with more confidence than before. Only one word pushed to the forefront of her mind.

Yes, yes, yes.

—————

So they finally kissed! Are you happy? Was it good? Let me know your thoughts:)) if you want to be added/removed from tags I’ll be happy to do so😊

Tags: @starlitfangirl @starsauroras @drunken-starz @myfriendscallmeraba @thesirenwashere @empress-sei @elrielllll @stars-falling @cirieael @verifiefangirl @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @mirainthedark05 @fancyclodpaintercookie @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @azriel-archeronn @queen-of-glass @bamchickawowow @slightly-sane-fangirl @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @b00kworm @kvi-arts @rhysandhlcor @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s @judexcardanxgreenbriar

#elain archeron #elain x azriel #azriel #elriel #surprises #omg they kissed #finally #how long will this last #feyre archeron #rhysand #nesta archeron #cassian

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dutifullybitchypeach · 3 years

Text

My two cents worth for the first six chapters and some reasoning around IC and Nesta. All my own personal opinion. Read if you want but it's just my general thoughts. Please, please don't flip if you disagree. I love Nesta and the darkness she is in right now and her behaviour is taking over this sassy no nonsense Queen and it needs to change.

THIS INCLUDES SPOILERS.

....................

Is the House of Wind a prison...technically no. Nesta just does not have the ability to fly or winnow. And no one is on standby to be her taxi. She can leave by walking. Amren threw her that challenge on purpose. She's not alone, Az and Cassian live there. And the Priestesses. Yes it has dark memories. Yes. I know that and I take it on board.

On a side note, it's irritating to hear 'I'm not your prisoner" from Nesta (who I like!!!!) I think of Azriel, Feyre, all the Fae Under the Mountain, even Elide 💗. Then again everyone's idea of prison is different. But the fact remains. She CAN leave. It's just bollocks hard. For a reason

But we know it's what she needs. We know that. We don't have to like it. Not one likes the reality. The ultimatum is uncomfortable and harsh. Our way or fuck off. They are not suggesting manual labour or degrading her. They suggest training, food, working in a library, purpose, being part of something. This doesn't sound bad to me. It just sucks it comeing across as an order. But this is Nesta's POV and she doesn't do requests or pretty please. The fact I got riled up reading it is a compliment to Mass. I had to take a major step back and reassess. Nesta sees everything as an attack. And no that is not her fault. Stay with me! I agree people enjoy provoking Nesta ( Rhys, Morrigan, Cassian) and then get affronted when she bites back. At some point I'd enjoy her retaliation akin to her ripping their head off :) And their vow to never go there again.

The IC 'review' is what annoys me. The "we" will decide where you go from here if you play ball. My hope 🤞 is that Nesta will TELL THEM where she will go/what she will do with sass. But right now sitting on a rock instead of trying to train is fucking juvenile (Again I stress I like Nesta). She hates her power as far as I can tell. But she is so low she can't see the wood from the trees. Or the hand that is been given to her.

Does Feyre have a right to be embarrassed. Yes. I'd die of shame if my sister (I have 3 btw) kept at that again and again and again all on my families dime. Without even being polite or respectful to anyone. She's only ever provided for Nesta. Period. Not to mention being a high lady with all the responsibilities that entails. Living her own life (well earned) and well life in general! I mean Jesus, Nesta is not her only priority. She maybe ours lol! But Feyre has 101 things going on. Give her credit. She tried with Nesta several times. Gave her space and time which Nesta wanted while still making the effort to reach out. Nesta needs to acknowledge that. Feyre was bankrolling her self destructive lifestyle and it had to stop.

The whole "your behaviour reflects badly on us". Well yes it does. Nesta doesn't get a free pass. The whole of Pyrithian is rebuilding and our girl is pissing away money. That's not even hers! Her behaviour does undermine the Court, folks must eye roll when IC lay down the law when your sister/ sister in law is prancing around being a with a big fuck you. Everyone is broken and rebuilding. And it's a slap in the face. Is the saving face irrelevant to Nestas issues, yes! But is Feyre allowed to feel fucked over, yes! Sisters say shit when they fight. Arguments are not flawless debates. Their emotive and bring out the worst in people. Feyre darling is feeling the pressure of being high lady and it came out all wrong. Especially when it's your sister acting up.

And Nesta never tried (as far as Feyre can tell) WE know Nesta IS trying, and surviving every day is a battle. But Feyre doesn't. Why would she. Nesta doesn't speak to her. But their relationship is so toxic that it's beyond Feyre to get it. And that is not her fault. NO ONE is perfect. There is only so much responsibility Feyre can CONTINUALLY take.

Rhys being there. I have a feeling that a male will not let his pregnant mate anywhere near someone he is afraid of. It's instinctive. Someone who hasn't trained to control their powers especially. He is on High Lord mode cause guess what he is a High Lord. This is his court and the people in it his responsibility. Not to mention the oncoming drama with the queens on the horizon and general court bullshit. Does he abuse his position of power.... well in this world the HL have the power. Everyone is answerable to one. Even Amren obeys the rules. Nesta doesn't/won't recognize that. Which is rare. They tricked and lied to get her "consent" surprise surprise a dick move from Rhysand/Feyre. We know they will do that for the "greater good". Lie, steal etc all in the name of saving the day. He screwed Morrigan over in front of her ass Father for flip sake! My point is the NC stability is his priority now more than ever if impending fatherhood is on the way. It's no surprise he wants Cassian to take on more responsibility. Nesta is a liability cause she is AWOL. It's worth noting he had this plan for months but Feyre refused preferring to give Nesta space and the opportunity to decide for herself what she wanted. So we could assume if Rhys had his way Amren and Nesta would have still been friends and it would have been far different. Amren would have been by her side. Do I condone his domineering behaviour, no not in a million years. And neither did Feyre. Will he apologise? Probably not he's an arrogant ass. And wanted to control the room. Fact. He wants/needs Nesta on board the team to bolster his ranks. She is that powerful. We KNOW he will do anything to protect his family (baby on the way).

Morrigan and her nasty comment on sending Nesta to The Court of Nightmares. Cassian acknowledges it's an insult but also the truth. That's a harsh fact on how Nesta is percieved right now. But I believe she wouldn't just thrive there, she would CONQUER ;) I don't know if Morrigan is referring to the people that abused her or the "type" of people that live in Hewn City...? Will we give HER the benefit of the doubt... hmmm.

Morrigan and that comment on good people giving Nesta the benefit of the doubt...that's Morrigans issue. She never gave Eris the benefit of the doubt and yet he proved her wrong with Keir. She's all over the place as a result . And she's been lying for 5 centuries. To her family. Cassian said he values the raw honesty that he has with Morrigan. Wow is he going to get a shock some day. Nesta may be a bitch but at least she's an honest one. And Morrigan knows it which must rattle her to no end. Point is Mor isn't supposed to be in this story very much and Nesta never really cared for her opinion anyway. So neither should we. I've checked out of Mor. Knowing she won't give Azriel closure or honesty just makes me not consider her opinion. It suits her to keep Nesta down in the gutter so her lie can continue.

Amren - her behaviour. I have to remind myself Amren is OLD, a stint in the Dungeon is probably a standard response! Her idea after the Summer Court fiasco and the jewels was to go there and crush them. Amren is by nature harsh. Which is why she gets on with Nesta the most. Cassian tells us she cares. Nesta can't see this. Her comment on Nestas sex life in ACOFAS. People ran with that. Fae lifestyles always kind of disgusted her. She wasn't Fae so bodily functions were an alien concept. Now she's Fae she's slightly horrified. Also no one else has much to say on Nesta's bedroom antics. Cause it's a non issue Mass doesn't do slut shaming. So neither should we. Speaking as a woman also here.

Elaine - we know Elaine craves peace and quiet. Confrontation is not her thing. Being there would mean Nesta would use her as a crutch, and I'm not sure Elaine wouldn't cave. Nesta pushed her away on purpose and Elaine choose to try and find some sort of contentment. That's her right and choice. Agree or disagree. She walked away or decided she can't deal with Nestas difficult behaviour. I don't know. Or is she oblivious to the situation ?! Who knows. Elaine is an enigma! It's the first 6 chapters! Right now they are two different people and have been drifting apart since ACOWR. Nesta is a dichotomy of pushing people away and hurt when they stop trying. It's exhausting for the people that have to deal with it. Who are not perfect and have their own issues and lives. Elaine has stepped back from this situation. Because either she recognizes it needs to happen or cannot sway the majority. Though I think Elaine did say something to Feyre, cause when Nesta pressed her she refused to say what Elaine thought. Just that she wasn't there and not part of the issue. Feyre is high handed when it comes to her sisters. Because that's the role they allowed her. Nesta is fighting back. And Feyre takes it personally. Which is only natural. They're sisters.

Cassian! Ah Cassian. He was spectacularly rejected and being around Nesta is a constant reminder. That's enough to make me cringe in a corner. He acknowledges he stayed away cause it hurt too much. He's a soldier and has serious self discipline. He has no idea how his behaviour/comments hurt her until she confronts him. Deliver him a few home truths. Another well deserved kick in the balls. Flirting with Mor, not sure his behaviour there has ever changed. He keeps it normal cause being around Nesta gives him the shakes!! Lol. He is slack jawed after Nesta and wants her badly, passion we know is big thing for them. It ignites them. Raw and real. Recognising Morrigan is aesthetically beautiful is just a fact. We know she's a looker. So what. Meh to this issue some people have.

We know from spoilers they start training and communicating and Mass is a Nessain ship so I'm excited to see this grow and flourish! I've read spoilers here on these two so I've no qualms.

Cassian for me is right. He and others have been through similar situations before so can empathise. But until she answers him back without snapping he won't be able to be that shoulder to lean on or turn too. He's not going to be her Prince though. Nesta is her own Queen!

I've read some spoilers on her friendships and I'm so happy. I've no idea how it will go but it says to me that the IC have a block when it comes to Nesta and don't see her the way others do and Nesta opens up to people who don't have a predisposed prejudice.

Also the IC have no idea how Nesta is going to react at any stage. It's like walking around on eggshells. Why would anyone actively choose to be around someone like that. That and very obvious fact they are BUSY AF. They don't have time to have a daily bollicking from Nesta. Yet all fall in when the plan is announced. Make what you will of that.

Some further musings:

Nesta being reminded she has to be respectful to Clotho and the priestesses is sobering. Like wow, people can't trust you will have basic manners. Again I know this is Feyre saying it but Christ to worry about that. Will be interesting with Gwyn and that friendship and a nice reality check for the IC.

I spent 4 God damn books understanding Rhys motives. He's a prick yes. Which I enjoy. But the bastard people are making him out to be I don't agree. Half of Pyrethian hates/hated him, Nesta hating him won't stress him. Or her for that matter. They have a 2 people they both care about in common and will just have to deal.

Training in Illyria, well Nesta is powerful, training in the mountains is probably damage control if she explodes. And a change of scenery from her prison!

Rhys was controlled for 50 years, Amren escaped worlds to be free. I don't believe they want to control Nesta.

Families are messy and fucked up. The intervention is a perfect example of how arseways it can get.

Azriel being Azriel I'm not sure about anything with him right now. I've read the snippets and spoilers and I'm all over the place. He is one of my favourites. FYI when I say IC I never mean Azriel I don't know why but I always imagine he finds it just plain drama and avoids it at all costs. Nesta is drinking and gambling away her life. Okay! Nesta is now training and we are all on board to help. Okay! Nesta is a powerful Queen and we are all afraid. Okay! Nesta has turned Cassian into a drooling mess and hes ass is hers. Excellent ;)

Sisters! They need to deal and respect each others independence. They are all in the wrong. It's just annoying at this stage. Personally I'll rip into my sisters when I need to but usually get a red mist when anyone else does. Even if they are in the wrong. I have a habit of always defending them.

So overall the angst killed me in the first 6 chapters. Did Rhys dominant shite irritate me? Yes. Do I want Nesta to make it clear she's not a pawn in his/their world? Yes. In spectacular fashion please.

Did Feyre handle it well? No. Does she ever deal with Nesta well? No. Perhaps only when Nesta is more inclined to talk. Which is rare. The ultimatum we know from Cassian sickened Feyre she recognizes it for what it is it but really cannot see any other option. Her fault or a combination of factors you decide. It was hyper tense situation we all just wanted to get through.

Would we be so angry if this was a soft approach headed by Elaine/Feyre/Amren? Would Nesta even react?

Cassian compared Nesta to a sleeping dragon who has just been woken up. Nesta needed a kick in teeth. A major reality check. Life in Pyrethian is hard. This a fae world. She is angry and incensed they have dared to 'interfere' and 'assume' she will be controlled. I want her to tackle her demons, confront her fears her issues with herself and others and live! Live! I've no idea what she wants and can't wait to find out.

***I've read some spoilers on the end. The rumours and the actual basic plot ending. I'm like Mass I love a HEA. And am hopeful I'll be satisfied. I had a similar theory when I heard the pregnancy rumour. A move by Nesta that would never have anyone doubt her.

#acosf spoilers #a court of silver flames #acofs #nessian #nesta archeron #nesta and azriel brotp

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flowerflamestars · 4 years

Note

Nessian "arranged marriage that neither of us wanted, but then we fell in love only for our parents to break off the engagement, now we're trying to arrange everything so that it is back on without anyone knowing we're in love" AU

ooo! this is DECADENT

1. The whole thing started off because they were both separately helping Feyre and Rhysand hide that they were in love from their controlling parents.

2. SHENANIGANS ensue, their parents end up seeing Cassian and Nesta together while they’re covering for Feyre + Rhys and decide it’s time to mend the feud between families- it’s perfect, Cas as the younger son isn’t going to inherit, Nesta as the oldest absolutely needs a husband but has been scaring off suitors for years. And look! They already know each other

3. NESTA IS FURIOUS. FURIOUS. Cassian, like all versions of himself that will ever exist is like: God, she’s a nightmare. But like, one I want to keep having forever and ever and ever? SO ANGRY, SO BEAUTIFUL

4. There is at least one sexually charged fencing match. Cassian has already had his uhoh, she’s goddamn amazing moment, Nesta is so very attracted and that makes her even angrier. She’s not going to give in! Not going to let her choices be taken away! Give away control of her business to A MAN. But sweet holy gods is the whole fencing thing working for her.

5. They get locked in the spare ballroom they were using for the match. Cassian talks Nesta out of breaking a window and trying to just jump down three stories. Nesta says fuck you, I’m not going to jump, I’m going to slide over to the solarium roof. Cassian seizing on literally anything, is like: You guys have a solarium? Why?

Nesta, angry and confused because this HOT HOT HOT man is trying to steal her fortune, he should know about the semi-famous Archeron gardens: My sister breeds orchids.

Cassian, praying she will stop eyeing the damned window and also trying not to think too hard about how unbearably flattering her little tight pants beneath a open kirtle fencing outfit is: That’s brilliant. Vanilla ones too?

Nesta, deeply suspicious, because her grandfather became famous for smuggling vanilla orchids back to their country and then completely cornered the market before he got really into international shipping: Yes

Cassian, looking away to hide the sweat literally trying to drip down his face: That’s so cool, you guys must make the best cakes.

Nesta: Cakes???

Cassian, thanking every god he can think of that she sounds at least curious: Yeah! [ proceeds to spend the next half hour telling her about how he learned to bake from his mom before she died, when he was really little. Nesta’s nods of acknowledgement destroy his self control so he goes on: yeah, I was sent off to be trained for the army after that, but it turns about they don’t actually let nobles fight? I cook for Rhys and Az all the time, but my dad hates it. I’d be a chef in another life, you know? And (looking at her and remembering with certain shy, mounting horror that this incandescent, perfect woman is his fiance) or at least, like bake cakes for my family?}

Nesta, internally, realizing this HOT HOT HOT man probably doesn’t want her money?? But whose greatest ambition would be to bake for her with those big beautiful hands. because she HAS noticed the way he looks at her, but was too angry to deal: CAKE. CASSIAN MAKES CAKES.

Aloud, and honest enough that she winces a little: That sounds wonderful.

Cassian, lighting up like a supernova: Maybe i could make you dinner sometime? Not that I don’t know that you have a great cook. And staff-but-

Nesta, interrupting because is he keeps blushing and rambling her mind will be lost: Tonight. When we get out of here.

So they have dinner, after the maid Elain bribed to lock them in for a certain amount of time pretends to have just stumbled on them while dusting the east wing.

And Cassian is funny. And shy. And kind. And Nesta is FURIOUS, because this big beautiful soldier man that she didn’t get to actually chose herself is great? Sure she’s seen him act like a brash asshole before, but there’s more to him??

6. BUT DISASTER. Lord Archeron finally discovers what Rhys and Feyre have been getting up to and calls everything off, says their houses honor has been tarnished, he’ll be damned if his daughters marry into that family.

7. Nesta feels like she’s been punched through the chest. Cassian is heartbroken. She writes him letters, and he sends her back all these silly gifts because he doesn’t know how else to convince her he really, really does adore her: homemade patisserie, exotic houseplants because of that one time she said she didn’t like bouquets, rare books, and tiny clever daggers she can stick in her hair.

Nesta is like, yep. I’m just going to love him forever.

8. The Archeron sisters, all three screwed over by their father in one way or another, decide they’re not just going to lay down and let him set them up new betrothals.

But! Helpfully! The king hates him. (Elain totally hasn’t been quietly courting his son or anything, so the royal family isn’t totally RIDE OR DIE COMPLETELY ON THE ARCHERON GIRLS SIDE OR ANYTHING.)

Nesta’s all like, I resign myself to duty, and throws herself into the family business. Reporting back all the while all those taxes their father stiffed the crown on and tariffs he avoided and international laws he just ignored.

9. LORD ARCHERON GETS THROWN IN PRISON FOR THE REST OF HIS DAYS

10. Nesta inherits the family title, Cassian shyly shows up on her doorstep and never leaves again. Feyre and Rhys have an insanely grandiose wedding, only overshadowed by the fact that it’s been announced Elain is marrying the crown prince and is someday to be queen.

Nesta and Cassian have this little tiny family wedding inside the solarium. It’s so private people in the kingdom are still habitually shocked when Lady Nesta Archeron, explorer of the high seas, richest woman in the land, always excuses herself early from royal events to get back to her husband.

Cassian comes to the palace sometimes, but overall the bowing and scraping makes him insane. Except for family stuff that isn’t a national occasion, he makes every excuse to stay home with the kids. Nesta’s the famous one, he gets to hang out with their five amazing, terrifying daughters, who all know daddy makes the best cakes in the world.

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cuquitalocita · 3 years

Text

kids and car rides 2 -feysand

AN: well, you guys liked the one-shot, so here’s a part 2! this is five thousand words of plotless fluff- hope you like it! if you didn’t read it, here is part one

part three

Rhys had known he was screwed from the very beginning.

It was those damn eyes. It had to be.

From the first comment Feyre Archeron had made in Literature, Rhys had been hooked. Maybe it was the tone in which she spoke the words, almost as if she expected someone to disagree with her even -though what she was saying was brilliant- but Rhys was pretty sure it was the paint stains she always seemed to carry around all over her body, no matter the time of day.

Gods, all he had wanted to do was brush a finger over a paint-stained strand of hair when she had been in his car earlier. Yep, because Rhys had somehow convinced the brunette to let him drive her home. He was still reeling.

Rhys shook his head, running a hand quickly over his face before focusing back on the road in front of him. Soon enough he was pulling into the student parking lot in front of the high school, immediately spotting Cassian and Azriel standing by Cassian’s truck.

Rhys scowled at them before turning off the engine and stalking over to them. He still wasn’t quite over them leaving Thebe out of his sight. But of course, Feyre had been there to find her. And just like that, his thoughts returned to the grey-eyed girl.

His friends fell into step beside him as they walked through the school in silence, still tired due to the early morning. He wasn’t sure whose brilliant idea it was to have football practice before and after school, but Rhys was still bitter about it.

“So,” Cassian snickered. “Did Rhysie have an interesting night?” Rhys shoved him, glaring through violet eyes at Cassian’s shit-eating grin and Azriel’s small smile.

“Shut the hell up, Cassian.”

“I think it’s a fair ask. You finally got the girl to spend some time alone with you and you’re telling me it didn’t go well?” Rhys rolled his eyes, arriving in the locker room.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Oh calm down, Rhys. It’s six in the morning- there’s no one else here.”

“Still,” Rhys insisted. He didn’t know what was going on with him and Feyre, but he doubted she wanted anything about them to start circling around the school. Especially when she was still dating Tamlin Hybern.

Rhys scowled into his locker. How could a girl like Feyre be dating a prick like Tamlin Hybern?

It didn’t matter, Rhys reminded himself. Because Feyre didn’t seem interested in him. So why should he even broach the thought of a relationship between them?

But his thoughts dissipated, quickly replaced with a small smile as he pulled his jacket out of his bag. She had only worn it for a few minutes, but the scent of Feyre Archeron had clung to his jacket like glue. Pears and lilac. Gods, Rhys could get drunk off of it.

“Dude,” Az’s voice rang through the almost empty locker room. “You coming?”

Rhys closed his locker, leaving his jacket inside along with the feelings for a girl who would never return them.

“Yeah.”

Practice was uneventful, his eyes constantly dragging to the empty bleachers, expecting to see- he didn’t really know what. Rhys had showered quickly, shoving himself out of the locker room as students began arriving and walking to their classes.

He was walking to calculus, already dreading what the old man had in store for his students when he passed the art room. Rhys shook his head. There was no way she was here this early. Why would she be?

But he couldn’t help it. So Rhys poked his head through the opened door of the art room, almost dropping the cellphone in his hand when he indeed saw the figure of Feyre Archeron hunched over in front of an aisle.

His heart was in his throat as he gazed at the girl in front of him. She wore a frown, clearly frustrated with whatever was going on in the painting in front of her and the sight brought a small quirk to his lips. Feyre had the tip of a paintbrush between her teeth and she seemed to be mumbling something to herself. Her hair was pulled into some type of knot in her head, also held together with a paintbrush, this one with a small bit of paint on it that was already falling into her hair. Not to mention the smear of yellow paint already on her cheek.

Rhys was full-blown grinning now as he shook his head.

He was shocked out of his staring by a strong hand clapping his shoulder. He recognized it as Cassian’s.

“Dude, you are so screwed.”

Yeah. Yeah, he was.

He saw her again after lunch. Feyre was back in the empty art studio, her brows drawn together as she examined the painting that now looked like a night sky. Rhys was sometimes taken aback by how talented she was.

If only he had the chance to tell her.

Rhys could practically hear Cassian’s voice in his head telling him to do it, so he did. With a light knock on the open door, he walked into the art studio. He couldn’t help but feel out of place with his clunky football gear around the beautiful paintings.

Feyre had jerked up as soon as he had knocked, the paintbrush flying out of her hand as it went to her chest.

“Hell, Rhys! You scared me.” Her gray eyes hardened as she took him in and Rhys couldn’t contain the grin on his face as he pulled up a chair and straddled it.

“Well, that was clearly my intention, darling. What fun would I be if I walked in like a normal person?” Feyre rolled her eyes, regaining her paintbrush and turning back to the canvas as if he weren’t there.

“I wonder, do things like that sound funnier in your head?” she arched a brow. For a moment Rhys was taken up in how simply beautiful she was. She looked like something out of a Disney movie with her big blue eyes and golden brown hair. Rhys was such a sucker for it.

“Aw, come on. We both know I’m funny.”

“Funny looking,” Feyre snorted. Gods, that was cute.

“I think we both know how you feel about my looks, darling.” His jab was rewarded with a pretty blush on Feyre’s cheeks that suited her a little too well. Finally, she placed her brush down and turned fully toward him.

“Is there a reason you’re here? Or have you just come to annoy me?” Rhys grinned, leaning his head on his hands.

“The latter obviously.” At her lack of facial expression, Rhys sighed. “Alright, I digress. I came here with an ulterior motive.”

Feyre arched a brow. “And that is?”

“To schedule my first study session,” Rhys blurted, thinking on his feet. The girl in front of him scoffed, twirling a piece of hair around her finger, and Rhys was struck with the raging desire to twirl it himself. It was sheer self-control that kept him in his chair. Because Feyre didn’t see him like that. No matter how much he wished she would.

“Sorry to tell you, but this isn’t the library.”

“That may be true. But my tutor’s here. I’m staring right after.” Feyre’s open-mouthed response was cut off by the bell ringing and Rhys cursed silently.

“Look, Rhys. I would if I could. But I’m honestly just too busy. This project isn’t working and the deadline is coming up. I’m sorry.” Feyre hauled her backpack over her shoulder and turned to leave the room before Rhys’s arm was shooting out to catch her wrist.

“Wait!” His hand dropped her wrist as she whipped her head back to him and Rhys swallowed. “Come on, go over notes with me for… twenty minutes. Then you can finish your project. I’ll even help you.” Feyre’s eyes flashed gray-blue.

“And how, pray tell-do you intend to do that?”

“By giving you inspiration of course,” he smirked, and the no-doubt accidental smile that broke on Feyre’s lips could have fueled his soul if he was the last man on earth. He shrugged, as if unaffected by the gorgeous smile on her face. “I’d say I’m pretty inspiring.”

Feyre watched him before shaking her head as if shaking thoughts out of her head. “You’re definitely something Rhysand.” She cleared her throat. “Fine. Meet me in the library. Three o’clock. Don’t be late. Have your study material ready and we’ll study. For twenty minutes.”

Rhys bet his smile was blinding as Feyre walked out of the room and down the hallway. He watched her in silent awe. But she had said yes.

Rhys wasn’t even a little embarrassed by the fact that he pumped his fist in the air when he knew she was too far to see him. She was going to study with him.

For a class, he didn’t take.

Shit.

Rhys cursed, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing the recently used number.

“Rhys?”

“Az, you take European Art right?”

“Uh… yeah? Why?”

“Please tell me you have some sort of notes for the class.” There was a sigh on the other end of the line.

“This is for Feyre isn’t it?”

“Will you just answer the question?” Azriel huffed.

“Alright, fine. There’s a blue notebook in my locker- it’s for art. Anything in there should work for study material. Stay away from the back, though. Those are too detailed. Feyre would never believe they’re yours.”

Rhys grinned, ignoring the jab, and thanked Azriel. After sprinting to his friend’s locker and acquiring his notebook, Rhys was strutting back down the hall, a satisfying feeling in his stomach.

She had said yes.

How Coach had actually ended up letting Rhys skip practice to study was beyond him. He had an inkling sensation that it had something to do with Cassian muttering something about a girl to him. Coach had simply rolled his eyes and given him a bi.

And that was how Rhys arrived in the library fifteen minutes to three. He hid behind one of the higher shelves, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans and praying to the Gods that he didn’t mess this up.

Rhys had poured over the detailed notes in Azriel’s journal, thanking the Gods that he had a best friend who was so organized. The class seemed relatively simple, nothing much for him to worry about. He just hoped Feyre wouldn’t think he was stupid for asking the questions he would have to make up. Not lying in the first place really would have been the way to go. But it was much too late for that now.

Twenty minutes. That was all he had. He sincerely doubted that Feyre Archeron would spend more time with him than was necessary. And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

As if hearing his thoughts about her, Feyre, in all her glory, walked into the library at that moment, a phone held in between her ear and shoulder. A small pout was on her face as she shook her head, ignoring the looks of the librarian who clearly pointed to the sign saying phones weren’t allowed.

“It’s not like that Nes…” she was saying as she passed by the bookshelf he was hiding behind. She clearly hadn’t seen him. “We’re just studying. He asked for help and he drove me home last Friday. It’s the least I could do.” The voice on the other end of the line bit something back and Feyre’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Gods! No, that is definitely not what’s happening. Besides, you know I’m going to end it. Nesta, would you please calm down? Look, he’s gonna get here soon, I gotta go.” Feyre rolled her eyes at the person’s response. “Yes, mom, I’ll be careful. Love you too. Bye.”

Rhys was slightly surprised that Feyre felt she needed to be careful around him. The prospect of anything that would even remotely hurt her caused his stomach to tumble uncomfortably.

But he steeled himself and walked over to Feyre who was already sitting at a table at the back of the library, textbooks open. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly when she noticed him before returning to their usual indifference.

“Ready to do this, Archeron?” Rhys wasn’t prepared for the wicked grin Feyre shot him.

“I think I’m supposed to be asking you that. Bring it on, Knight.”

The study session consisted of alternating between watching Feyre ramble through intricate art details and attempting not to be intoxicated by her perfume. Rhys seemed unable to do either without realizing how truly enthralled he was with the girl.

Feyre looked beautiful when she talked about art, and Rhys quickly realized he only needed to ask a simple question to send her on a factual tangent. But he didn’t mind. Her cheeks gained a pretty blush and her eyes twinkled with each sentence.

Yeah, Rhys could watch her forever.

But the buzzing of his phone alerted him that he and Feyre had ‘studied’ for much longer than twenty minutes, and it was time for him to pick Thebe up from the elementary school.

“Any other questions?” Feyre asked, without noticing his phone.

“You ready to go?” She started in place as she finally turned from her textbook.

“What?”

“If you didn’t notice, our twenty minutes ended a while ago, darling.” Feyre scowled at the nickname but Rhys continued. “And it’s time for my end of the deal.”

“Your… what?”

“I told you I would help you with your art project. So let’s go. I have to pick up Thebe, but if you want, you can come home with us, and we can try to figure your project out.”

Feyre smiled at the mention of his little sister and Rhys’s heart did a little relay in his chest. But Feyre shook her head, packing up her bag.

“Thanks, but I don’t know how you could help. It’s a mental thing and I… should figure it out on my own.”

“Come on, Feyre. Are we gonna do this again? Just let me try. Besides, Thebe misses you.” Rhys was smirking the moment he saw Feyre’s resolve crack.

“Fine. I’ll do it for Thebe.”

“Feyre!” Rhys almost frowned at the excitement in his little sister’s voice as she jumped into the back of his car. She had never greeted him like that.

“Hey, no hello for your big brother?” Thebe stuck her tongue out at him in the rearview mirror and Feyre choked out a laugh from beside him.

“Of course not. Because you aren’t her game buddy, now are you? Right Thebe?”

“Right!” Feyre smirked in triumph as Rhys gaped at her. But he couldn’t even be offended if the sickly sweet feeling in his stomach was any indication. Rhys had been amazed from the beginning with how good Feyre was with Thebe. She had always been a good kid, but recently Thebe had been on a rebellious streak.

But the little girl seemed to have a weak spot for Feyre Archeron. Rhys couldn’t say he blamed her. So as Feyre reached over and turned on the stereo in his car without his permission and smiled at him when he looked at her, he decided he would be okay with being whatever Feyre wanted to be. Because he didn’t know if he could live without being able to see that smile.

The ride to his house was silent and content, Feyre smiling at Thebe in the rearview mirror as she kicked her feet to the tune of whatever song was playing. The second he pulled into their driveway Thebe was out of the car and sprinting to the front door. After a kind scolding from Feyre about running away from her brother, Rhys unlocked the front door and led the two girls in.

He could already smell his mothers cooking on the stove and sweet, melodic music flowed through the house. He gazed at Feyre as she looked around, a small smile on his face.

He was so screwed.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Before Feyre could reply, Rhys was walking to the kitchen mumbling, “I’ll get you a water,” and leaving her with Thebe.

“Rhysand,” his mother hissed the second he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. She was in front of the stove holding a wooden spoon. “Is that a girl out there?” Rhys scratched the back of his burning neck.

“It is.” He was rewarded with a smack to the back of his head. “And why exactly have I not had an introduction?”

“It’s her first time over here, Mom. I don’t want to freak Feyre out.”

“FEYRE?” Rhys winced as soon as he realized his mistake. “The one you and the boys talk about all the time?” He almost laughed at the resemblance between her and Thebe, but he was too busy blushing down to his toes.

“Yes, now can I please go back out there? There’s a good chance she ran away.” His mother rolled her eyes.

“Rhysand Knight, you bring that girl in here right now and introduce me to her. If she’s anything like Thebe tells me then something tells me we’ll get along just fine.”

“Mom-” the look she shot him demanded he keep his mouth shut and do what she said. So Rhys walked back out the living room where Thebe was coloring something on a bright orange piece of paper. She was speaking to Feyre, her hands moving in all directions as Feyre watched her, nodding along in understanding. There was no way she understood what Thebe was saying.

Feyre’s gaze snapped up as he walked into the room. “What’s up?”

“Uh, my mom wants to meet you. Is that okay?” Rhys was ready to start rambling before Feyre stood up and walked over to him.

“Sure thing. I’d love to meet the woman who raised my favorite Knight. I’m talking about Thebe, by the way.” Rhys rolled his eyes, shooting her a small grin.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go Archeron.” Rhys lightly pushed the small of her back forward and they walked side by side back to the kitchen where his mother now held a knife. Feyre’s laid back demeanor quickly diminished as she gazed at the older woman and Rhys had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

“Feyre,” Rhys said through a laugh. “This is my mom. Mom, this is Feyre. She’s here for some inspiration.”

Whatever Rhys had expected to happen was thrown to hell as his mother surged forward and enveloped Feyre in a hug. In a short bit of hesitation, Feyre hugged her back and smiled.

“It’s so nice to meet you, dear. I’ve heard so much about you- from both of my children, surprisingly. Although Rhysand didn’t tell me how beautiful you were!”

“MOM!”

Feyre was blushing up to her roots but she smiled back nonetheless.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Archeron. Your house is beautiful. And your children saved my life last Friday at the football game. Quite the athlete you’ve got here by the way.” Rhys frowned.

“I didn’t know you watched the game.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” she said, turning to him and shooting him a sly smirk. “I was talking about Thebe. She’s pretty fast.” His mother laughed as Rhys rolled his eyes. “I knew I would like you. And I suppose I have you to thank that I have my daughter here today?” Feyre shook her head, accepting the water bottle his mother offered her.

“I didn’t do much. It was a right place, right time sort of thing. Besides, I think we all run away when we’re children. I’m just glad she’s okay. She’s just a kid- I’m sure she’ll learn not to run off eventually.”

“I hope so,” Rhys and his mother echoed at the same time. Feyre looked between the two, a small smile growing on her face as she reached into her backpack and pulled out a pen and a pencil. Rhys shot her a questioning look but she simply shook her head, letting him know that she was in no rush to stress about her project.

“So, Feyre.” His mother had returned to her chopping board and was cutting some carrots. He crossed the counter and pulled out a cutting board for himself and began to help her, catching Feyre’s eye in the process. The smile he shot her was one of pure happiness, and if he had known her better, he would’ve guessed the one she returned was the same. “Rhysand tells me you’re an artist.”

Feyre laughed a little. “Artist'' is a broad term. But, yes, I paint. And draw sometimes too. Your son would know, since tearing me away from my work seems to be his favorite hobby.” Rhys would have paled if not for the twinkle of amusement in Feyre’s eye and he flicked a droplet of water at her, causing her to reach over and pinch his side.

Rhys yelped, and Feyre’s smile turned positively wicked.

“Are you…? Are you ticklish?” Rhys squawked in offense.

“I am not!”

“You are too,” his mother and Thebe’s voices harmonized together. The little girl had wandered into the kitchen not long ago and was sitting on the bar stool next to Feyre, holding her own colorful crayons and paper.

“Wow,” Feyre mused from across the table. “Rhysand Knight: star quarterback. Ticklish.” She let out a melodic laugh and Rhys knew he would allow himself to be embarrassed for life if only to hear it again. Thebe giggled from beside her and Feyre arched a brow.

“I wouldn’t be giggling if I were you, Thee,” she warned, wiggling her dexterous fingers at the little girl. Thebe let out a high pitched squeal as she attempted to back out of the chair, Feyre’s hand behind her the only thing keeping her from falling backwards.

“No...no! Feyre no! Don’t-!” the little girl protested. But it was too late, and Feyre had scooped the little girl into her lap, tickling her sides with fervor until tears of laughter were streaming down her chubby cheeks. Feyre was laughing along with Thebe, even as the little girl tried to reach for her own sides to tickle her.

Rhys turned around and stared at the wooden cabinets for a moment. This feeling, in his chest. He had never felt it before. Like every bit of sunlight in existence was shoving its way into his soul, and there wasn’t enough room for it so it simply grew bigger. He couldn’t explain the happiness that coursed through his body at the sight of Feyre with his sister. He didn’t want to.

By the time he turned back around, the two girls had called a truce, yet they both gazed at each other, eyes in slits.

“Finally found her weak spot, Thee?” Thebe pouted, crossing her tiny arms in front of her and shaking her head resolutely.

“She’s not ticklish!” the girl complained in a whine and Feyre laughed.

“Sorry, Thebe. It’s an Archeron family trait.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rhys stated, placing his knife down in the sink and turning back to Feyre, who was now looking at him with wide eyes as he approached her. Feyre backed up and out of the kitchen, her hands in front of her as if to defend herself.

“Rhys, NO. Rhysand, don’t you dare. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare! Rhys no-”

The rest of her sentence was replaced with a sharp gasp as Rhys reached for her, his longer arms and legs allowing him to easily reach around Feyre’s waist and pull her to his chest. She shrieked as his fingers found her neck, tickling without restraint and causing a cacophony of laugh to explode from her as her body attempted to spring away from his.

Not ticklish my ass.

“Rhysand Knight, you let go of me right now!” she managed to get out in between out of breath laughs. Rhys almost didn’t hear her over the overwhelming scent of her shampoo in his senses. But when he did, Rhys smirked.

“Hmm… no, I don’t think I will.” He didn’t think twice before hauling Feyre over his shoulder and carrying her back to the kitchen, her fists pounding uselessly on his back. Thebe and his mother watched the two of them with wide smiles and his sister clapped her hands in excitement, reaching out for Feyre as Rhys put her back down.

“My turn!” Feyre raised a brow, clearly confused. But realization struck her face too late and Thebe was already reaching towards her.

“Thebe! Come on, we’re friends, right? What about being game buddies? Game buddies don’t do this to each other!” But she was a girl on a mission, and Rhys tugged Feyre towards his chest once more, ignoring how well they just fit as he held her arms down.

Thebe tickled Feyre’s neck relentlessly until she had no choice but to shield herself. Feyre turned, burying her head in Rhysand’s chest. He ignored the fact that it offered no protection to her neck and pulled her closer, disguising the movement with the laughter in his chest. Rhys would trade anything for the moment to never end.

“Okay you two,” his mother cut in. “Release the prisoner. We do want her to come back, don’t we?” Rhys finally released her, immediately missing Feyre’s warmth. She shot him a dirty look that held absolutely no bite and the twinkle in her eye and flush in her cheeks changed her face entirely, reminding him once more of how beautiful she was. It knocked the breath out of his chest for a moment.

But he finally managed to pull himself together, returning back to the carrots on the counter as Feyre settled back into the chair next to Thebe.

“Traitor,” she hissed playfully to the little girl.

“Hey, don’t mess with the Knights. Right, Thee?” Rhys cut in from across the counter, reaching out to give his little sister a high five which she excitedly returned. He caught Feyre’s eyes and the blatant happiness in them made his heart flip.

His mother watched the two with amusement, her cheeks shining with a happy blush. The knowing look she shot him had Rhys clearing his throat and returning his attention to the carrots in front of him.

“So, Feyre. Do you have any siblings?” Feyre jerked, as if shocked out of her thoughts before smiling at his mother.

“I do, actually. I have two sisters, Nesta and Elain. Both are older than me. Nesta is a freshman at Prythian and Elain is planning on going there next year too.” Feyre was twirling her pen around her finger and Rhys quickly realized it was a habit of hers. He found it adorable.

“What about you?” he found himself asking.

Feyre’s pen stilled as she looked at him, as if surprised he had asked. But how could she be? He wanted to know everything about her.

“Velaris. For art,” she said finally. “That’s where I wanna go.” Rhys hoped Feyre hadn’t noticed the change of pace of his cuts. Rhys had been born in Velaris, and had lived there until he was ten before moving to Prythian. He had loved it with everything in him. Still did. Rhys thought he was pleasantly surprised yet again by another thing he and Feyre Archeron held in common.

“Really?” his mother asked knowingly. “How come?” Feyre’s eyes lit up, taking up an almost angelic glow. Rhys tried not to stare.

“It’s gorgeous. The city itself, and the lights, and the stars, gods, I could look at the stars of Velaris for eternity.” The life in which Feyre spoke the words had Rhys meeting her gaze. And something so taut pulled between them, he thought something would snap, if not his self control.

“What’s your project on?” he croaked out instead. Feyre cleared her throat, looking away from him and down at a scribbled on piece of paper next to Thebe. Her masterpiece.

“Um,” her voice was hoarse. “Love.” Although she wasn’t looking at him, his gaze snapped to her, noticing her now red cheeks.

“Love?” asked his mother.

“Love. A piece of art that represents my definition of love,” Feyre replied, finally looking at him. Gods, she was beautiful.

“Rhysie! I wanna help!” Rhys startled, looking at his little sister who was now holding out her hands for his knife. Rhys laughed, shaking his head and placing the knife down far away from her.

“Sorry, Thee. No knife today. Actually, no knife for a while.” His sister’s gaze narrowed, ready for war. But Rhys reached over the counter, careful not to brush his arm with Feyre’s, and picked up his sister, quickly sitting her on his shoulders.

She giggled in glee and Feyre beamed at the little girl. Rhys had a feeling Thebe wasn’t the only one with a soft spot.

“Here,” he said. “You can help from up here.” He tickled the bottom of her foot and grinned as she laughed. He loved this little goofball.

“Rhysand, you drop that little girl and I will knock you on your ass so hard you won’t be able to breathe for a week,” his mother warned. Feyre let out a loose laugh at the statement and Rhys playfully glared at her. She returned it in kind.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he swore. “Scouts honor.”

“Were you in scouts?” Feyre asked.

“No,” cut in his mother. “No, he was not.” She hit the top of his head and Rhys winced through a laugh.

“Aw,” Thebe cooed from above him. She began to rub his head. “There, there. Feel better Rhysie.” Finally Rhys smiled, looking up at the pair of violet eyes that matched his own.

“Thanks Thee.”

A rustling sound had him looking back to where Feyre was. She had grabbed a piece of Thebe’s construction paper on the table and was reaching for a dark blue crayola crayon. Rhys watched as she bit her lip in concentration and her hand began to move over the paper.

Feyre looked up again only to find him watching her. He quirked a brow in question and the smile and shrug she gave him in return was the sun on a cloudy day.

“I think I found some inspiration.”

Rhys was in love with Feyre Archeron. There was no denying it, as he stared at the row of finished final products in the art studio. The snarky and quick witted girl had captured his heart and Rhys was more than willing to give it to her. She could do with it as she pleased.

He had fallen wholly and deeply for her.

And as he gazed at the bright orange paper in front of him, at the sketch of a kitchen and a mother, a son and a laughing girl, he thought he might’ve fallen a little bit more.

i love these two :)

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #acotar #acomaf #feysand fic #sjm #a court of thorns and roses

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