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#emerie

I have this dumb little head canon that Emerie is really good at drawing. When it’s Nesta’s birthday at the camps, Emerie gives Nesta a drawing of her. There’s no color to it, since it’s this simple pencil drawing but it still shows Nesta looking very content and at peace and happy. Then when the IC arrive for some kind of dinner or something, Feyre gifts Nesta this big painting of her surrounded by flames and scowling. Feyre says she’s showing Nesta as being powerful but all she thinks Feyre just made her look terrifying, and she thinks back to the drawing Emerie had given her. She realizes that the problem isn’t her, it’s just the way Feyre sees her, and when Feyre asks her if she likes it she just says, “It’s nice to know you still see me as a monster.”

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okay, listen.

az goes to the camp because of the unrest among the illyrians, meets emerie, she becomes his insider, they prevent the uprising or whatever, become friends along the way (or fall in love 🥺), etc.

that’s book 6 for ya.

(book 5 is probably lucien idk)

*also, being around emerie would probably make azriel both hate and love illyrian people (former because the mfs clipped her wings, and the latter because she appears to be a rather proud illyrian female, she gives off those vibes to me at least). and their respective families hurt them both in their childhood/youth, so i think that they’d understand each other quite well.*

*and just imagine how well this quote would age, once she becomes a member of the ic, and forms a friendship with cassian and the rest of them, and they all sit together and laugh:

“A reluctant curl of her lips at that. Not quite a smile. Certainly not with a male she didn’t know.”

(acofas, chapter 8)*


the amount of wishful thinking lol 👀

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Anyone any guess on how old  Emerie is .. Since her wings are clipped and is from one of the main camps where wing clipping is prohibited for the last five centuries she must be pretty old right ?. but she has twin braids and is said to look young in appearance. I think  she is older than Nesta  at least.

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A/N: Yeah, I broke my ghosting and wrote an one shot. My mental health has not been very good these days, and writing helps me.

I have no ideia how to feel about this. I started it with angst in mind but I think it ended up way less angsty then I had planned? Either way, I hope it does not look as bad as it seems to be.

image

Originally posted by gotitas

Icarus

Emerie once knew the language of the wind. Spoke it fluently. Effortlessly.

It used to be like breathing for her. As easy and automatic as the action of inhaling and exhaling the pure and fresh air of the Illyrian mountains.

Mêmbira suí Ibutû.

Daughter of the Wind.

That was how Emerie’s mother used to call her.

Emerie remembered little of her mother. A smile, a lovingly hand braiding her hair, brushing it after a bath.

She remembered her walks with her mother. How they used to go to that deserted greenfield, its open space Emerie’s personal playground. Her mom would watch as Emerie soared higher and higher, the wind as gentle as her mother’s caress on her face.

“Watch me cig! Look how high I can go!” small Emerie would shout, her voice filled with delight.

“I’m watching xe nhia” her mother would loving answer, her wishful eyes watching her daughter fly, laughing and shouting in warning when Emerie got bold and would do a backflip or drop and open her wings too close to the ground.

Emerie’s mother could not fly. The scars on her wings were proof of that. But she never let that hold herself back from feeling happy for her daughter.

And Emerie flew for her cig. Higher and higher, wings strong, wind roaring around her. Each flap of her wings was to hear that laugh and see that big proud smile on her mother’s face.

But then her mother died.

And the nightmares began.

Emerie would dream of losing her wings. The scars she saw on her mother’s wings on hers.

She’d wake up painting and sweaty, and would run from home straight to her playground.

She’d fly until she felt the air getting thin, until she could barely breath, until she swore she could touch the moon.

When she was nearing the point of fainting from lack of air, Emerie would plummet down, getting dangerously close to the ground. Only then would she open her wings wide, stretching them to the point of pain and getting back to safety.

Time passed. Emerie became older.

Every day she dreaded the day her first cycle would come. Everyday she woke up and glanced at her sheets, her heart stopping every time during the seconds it took to realize they were clean. White. No sign of blood on them whatsoever.

She would scape to her playground whenever she could. Would fly for hours.

Her father tried to hold her back in the shop. Keep her inside, working.

Being an ornament.

Being seen but not heard.

There and not there at all, her existence a mere object of fleeting importance.

Emerie hated it. Knew her father kept track of her scent. To see if it had changed.

To see if she had bled.

Emerie knew her father did not care about the High Lord’s new law, which had banned clipping.

Her father came from a traditional family. An old family who had more money than most, but still less than the powerful camp lords had.

Their backwards mentality, however, was the same.

She remembers the day it came as if it was yesterday.

She woke up, and the usual panic before she saw the sheets was the same.

But this time it did not pass.

It became unbearable.

Emerie could feel her lungs closing, her pulse quickening, and dread, pure and deep dread filling her stomach.

She had lit scented candles to try and disperse the metallic smell of blood, ripping the bedsheets in small pieces and feeding the blazing fire in her room with them.

She remembers dressing with shaking fingers, finally braiding her hair in her usual style after countless attempts.

Remember getting downstairs to the shop and praying to the Mother her father would be so busy counting those damn gold coins or scheming some merchant transaction with the camp lords to stop and pay attention to her.

He had done so well in ignoring her after her mother had died.

“You’re just like your cig” he used to tell her.

Only when she grew up did she notice that he did not say it in a lovingly way.

He said it with a bittersweet tone.

As if he was saying she should have been the one to die from the plague that had befallen Illyria years ago.

No amount of power, contacts or money had been able to save his termireco.

The day his wife died was the day her father never looked at Emerie again the same way.

He had lost his opacatúmbae. His world.

Emerie thought she had managed to finish the day without her father finding about it.

How foolish had she been.

How stupid to dare and hope.

She also remembers when they came.

Four Illyrians, all friends of her father.

They held her down.

She tried to fight.

She kicked and bit at them, screaming and crying.

It was a fruitless effort.

One of them pressed a handkerchief against her mouth and the last thing she heard was her father’s voice before she passed out.

“I’m sorry xe tagira. It’s for your own good”

When Emerie woke up, she had scars.

Her beautiful proud wings were scarred just like her mother’s had been. Like most of the older females at camp were.

The day Emerie lost her wings was the day the wind in Illyria blew so strong that tents were torn from the ground and trees flew.

The ibutû was mourning the loss of his mêmbira.

For three days and three nights Illyria was throw into completely chaos.

For three days and three nights Emerie didn’t eat. Didn’t get out of her room.

For three days and three nights Emerie mourned, together with Qilaë, goddess of wind, what she had once been.

And when she got out of her room, face tearstained but brown eyes deep with hatred, she never gave her father an easy day until his passing.

Emerie would purposely stay away from home all the time, helping with chores at the healers tent or in the communal kitchen at camp.

She would spit insults at the males her father tried to sell her to, lashing at them until they were scared of her, until not even one male in Windhaven would dare accept her as his wife.

When her father died, she fought to be the owner of the clothier.

She hoped her father was turning over in disgust in his grave.

With time, Emerie slowly learned how to deal with the pain.

It became a fog that came and went as it pleased.

Sometimes it was so tick she would find herself screaming until her throat was sore.

Sometimes it was as brief as a summer breeze.

Sometimes Emerie would find herself standing in her old playground, opening her wings and flapping them in vain attempts of raising herself even a millimetre from the ground.

It did not matter how many times she tried. How her wings screamed in pain and how she fought back her tears.

She never left the ground.

Time passed again. Emerie would go to her playground less and less.

One day, she started going again.

Now, Emerie went to the playground with Azriel.

It all began when he found her there, alone, hair free and wind kissing her face, as if Qilaë was greeting her.

He probably had followed her through his shadows.

Even with her eyes closed Emerie could feel his presence. Could feel as he tentatively walked towards her, stopping beside her and staying quiet, letting her enjoy the moment.

And she told him the story of Mêmbira suí Ibutû, who had flown higher than anyone else had ever dared to before.

When she finished the story, she was sobbing, Azriel having moved to embrace her, his wings around them creating a cocoon of safety.

Protecting her from the horrors of the past.

Protecting her like she should have been protected.

After her crying had ceased, Azriel only asked her one thing.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life” she answered.

Grabbing her waist, Azriel shot to the sky and for the first time in years Emerie left the ground.

He held her only by the waist, supporting the rest of her body with his shadows as he flew.

It was as if Emerie could fly again.

And in that moment Qilaë knew her daughter had come home at last.

Fixed tag list: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030 @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @allilal @sensitiveillyrian @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan @rainbowcheetah512

Emeriel tag: @julemmaes @angrypotatofairy @illyrianwitchling @moe8 @thewayshedreamed @ko0mbayamylord @rosegoldannie @fourshizzle149 @arin1030 @elide-lochan-salvaterre @the-bookish-deer @silvernesta @a-girl-named-isa

{Please let me know if you want to be added in either the Emeriel or my Fixed Tag list}

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Head cannon:

Nesta figures out she can bring people back from the dead (without consequences) when the cause of death was not supposed to happen. One day, as her and Lucien have become closer she finds out how his lover died. Later in the night she leaves to go to where Jesminda was buried and brings her back to the Illyrian mountains. With help from Emerie (someone else she has come to see as a best friend) she brings her back to life with her powers and Emerie helps clean her up and inform her what happened.

The next day Nesta lets her see Lucien and he is very, very happy and she can visably see some of his walls crumble. Jesminda and Lucien become even closer to Emerie and Nesta, thankful to them but also balance out each other. (Nesta and Emerie don’t expect nor think they need to be repaid.)

After getting Jesminda reaccustomed to normal life Lucien takes her on a trip around the world to show her what he has seen and to reconnect to and learn about the girl he lost. She loves hearing all his stories (even the sad ones) because she gets to know the new him, and they fall in love all over again. Of course, Elain and he choose to not accept the bond and stay friends since it was mutual.

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Coming out of my ghost mode just to say how much Nessian content we’ll be getting once acosf is there: fanarts, canon fics, new headcanons.

But, we’ll also be getting Emerie content. I do not think that Sarah introduced her in acofas just so she’d forget about her later or give her a non existent role — I’m all in for some Nemerie brotop, badass bestfriends giving Illyrian males hell.

Imagine the possibilities. Emerie fanart. Emerie canon and headcanons overload. NEW EMERIEL CONTENT

Thirty one days folks. Let that sink.

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Emerie was seen in acofas. She owns a clothier (a clothing shop) in Windhaven. Was once her father’s but he died in the war. She’s strong minded and sharp given the small glimpse we see of her. Sadly as an Illyrian woman her wings are clipped, Emerie has long scars down her wings from it. Her stare and poise remind Cassian of Nesta. She’s described as not beautiful but striking and interesting.

Hope this helps nonnie!

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Nesta helping #Emeriel reunite because Emerie can’t use her wings to rise herself to Azriel’s window.

Post
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There is a strange surge of Emeriel content on my dash and it’s making me feel all sorts of ways. Anyway, here’s my contribution: (some) songs that I’ve headcanoned for the crack ship before they’ve even interacted (if they ever do)

  • Willow by Taylor Swift
  • Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored by Ariana Grande
  • Positions by Ariana Grande
  • Fetish by Selena Gomez
  • Be Honest by Jorja Smith
  • Ungodly Hour by Chloe x Halle
  • Rumors by Sabrina Claudio and ZAYN
  • All Night by Beyoncé
  • That’s So Us by Allie X

Add more if you’d like!!

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If you don’t think that the minute ACOSF is uploaded onto my kindle app on Feb 16, that I’m not immediately going to do a word search on my crackship, then boiii

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the lack of azriel x emerie content in the tag is…..disturbing

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To all the people who have become far too invested in Emerie (like me), here are all of her lines in ACOFAS: 

“Proteus was my father.”…“He didn’t come home from the war.”

“Why should you be [sorry]?” …“I’m Emerie. This is my shop now.”

[Cassian buying her entire stock to give to Illyrians]: “Really?”…“I don’t need charity.”…“Do you want me to find some bags and boxes?”…“[Deliver] To whom?”

“They [Illyrians]– a lot of them don’t like me.”

[Cassian: “Tell them it was a gift from the High Lord.”]: “Why not you?”

“I’ll make sure this has been delivered to those who need it most by sundown.”

“Lord Cassian”… “Happy Solstice.”

[Cassian: “Send word if you have any trouble with the deliveries”]: “I’m sure I won’t need to.”

This character had spoken less than 80 words and we

1. Want her to be besties with Nesta.

2. Want her to liberate her people and play a critical role in ACOSF.

3. Put her in a crackship with Azriel.

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I made quite a lot of these already, but I’m so sure Emerie and Nesta won’t have the relationship I made up in my head and she won’t be half the comedic genius I pretend she is, that I wanted to share a few more detailed scenarios and add them to this other two: 1, 2. You know, just in case I don’t like ACOSF after 3 years of waiting and I have to prettend it doesn’t exsist.


The thing is, Nesta lives in the tiny one bedroom “apartment” above Emerie’s shop. They both live there, so Nesta doesn’t have to stay in Cassian’s house or in a canvas tent. Whenever Cassian wants to talk to Nesta and goes to the store looking for her, Emerie pretends she is busy and packes him off with an excuse. So Cassian says he needs to talk to her, it’s important, and even if they were just having tea, Emerie tells him Nesta can’t talk to him right now, she is having wild sex upstairs. “I can’t here a thing” he says. He knows Emerie is lying to him. “Maybe her mouth is bussy right now. You know ” she winks “ Wel… you don’t” she dares to touch his arm in consolation “But I’m sure you imagine”.

Mor doesn’t like Emerie. She thought they were sending Nesta to Illyria to get rid of her, not to double the trouble once she came back. So she straight up asks Emerie “Why do you feel the urge to be bitter all the time?” Because she is, she never misses the oportunity of adding a subtle insult.  “It’s a natural response to balance Nesta’s sweetnes”.

Once, Cassian was telling Nesta and Emerie “his brother” would come the next morning to do some paperwork in the camps and both Nesta and her were invited to have lunch with them in one of the houses. “The shadowy one or the sparkly one” Emerie asks. Cassian is taken by surprise becuase she is usully more hostil towards him and he thought she would say something like “fuck off” or “We would rather die”, and the finds the nicknames they have given to his brothers to be a little funny and absolutely fitting. He is intrigued and feels invited to go on the conversation “What do you call me?” He looks at Nesta, but she gives a quick look at her friend. That’s what Emerie wanted, she had intended to laugh at him all along, when she simply goes back to her book and all she says is “guess”.

And finally, whenever Feyre tries to get closer to Emerie by buying something from her store, Emerie will tell her the prize is “excacly the same amount the jewelry you are wearing is worth”. The first time she did, Feyre actually gave her the ruby necklace she was wearing, to prove she didn’t care how much money it would cost her to get to know her. But then she realized it was not a test, Emerie was simply making fun of her and about to make huge amounts of money.

Here are the other headcanons for ACOSF  Part 1 || Part 2

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I- Nonnie come back here… this is so random and until Eris gets his redemption arc we can’t do that to Emerie

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What if eris actually falls in love with emerie and then they get married and eris become high lord and emerie as high lady and they become allies with the illyrians and the illyrians would also go to the autumn court, where they will be actually welcomed and hang out with the fellow faes and Cassian and nesta being in the camps living happily, while nesta casually just goes once or twice a week to see emerie and eris oh God that would be so beautiful 🥺

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I’m honestly so nervous for ACOSF cause now I have to purge my attachment to all the headcanons. I have to get rid of my attachment to Emerie in case she turns out not to be that big of a character in ACOSF or is in an antagonistic role with respect to Nessian. I have to release my attachment to the idea of Nesta putting the IC in their place in case it doesn’t happen. I have to release the idea that that there’s not going to be a love triangle or two. I’m so scared guys.

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Random thought on a crackship: the upside of Emeriel is that both Az and Emerie are probably really really old (because they’re both Fae), so the whole age gap issue that people are generally uncomfortable with in the other ships won’t be as much of an issue here

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If it happens…

I see you Nesta trying to bring Eris into the friend group so he can get with Emerie (I had my bets on Emerie and Tamlin but you know what I’ll take Emerie and Eris)

Question to self: Why do I put everyone in relationships whether they’ve met each other or not?

Answer to self: Because I said so and because i like it


image

Originally posted by just-r-connection

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I’m sensing a theme here. Nesta is apparently friendly/ becoming friends with either the hated, outcast or those looked down upon by the IC. Lucien, Eris, Emerie, along with Azriel and Amren (they aren’t super gossipy within the circle and stay to themselves more than Mor, Rhys, and Feyre). This girl is gonna create an outcast circle of friends and I can’t wait.

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