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#feyre’s post is going to be even longer. warning y’all now.
stargirlfeyre · 8 months
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Shit that Rhys gets hate for that never happened in the books or that are completely justified.
“Plotting to become High King.” Rhys has never stated that he wants to be High King and he’s actually said multiple times that he has no plans of becoming one. The idea was brought up by Amren and was shut down quickly by him. I don’t get why y’all are hating on him for it when he literally agrees with you?
“Trying to kill Nesta.” Sadly Rhys has never actually tried to kill Nesta. He threatened to (just like she threatened to kill her baby sister) but he has never done it and he even says that he would never hurt anyone Feyre loves. Quick question though. Nesta’s threat towards Feyre is excused with “she was just angry because her boundaries were being pushed” but why is that logic also not applied to Rhys? He was angry because his wife had a miscarriage thrown in her face. Yet these instances aren’t treated the same?
“Threatening to kill Nesta just because she told Feyre the truth.” The reason he threatened her was not simply because she told Feyre. It was because of how she told Feyre. She threw a dead child in her sister’s face (his child along with Feyre’s) and not only that but she blatantly lied to her sister and said everyone was just going to let her die in ignorance while knowing that that wasn’t true. If someone you cared about was told their child was going to die in the same manner that Nesta told Feyre would you be upset?
“Bullying Tamlin.” His bitch ass deserved it. What do you want me to say?
“Bullying Lucien.” He also deserves it. Seriously though what reason would Rhys have to like Lucien? He’s besties with the man who got his mother and sister killed, he’s the man who tried to force his mate back to her abuser, he’s the man who looked at Feyre with disgust for simply being a part of the IC. What reason do these two people have to like one another? Lucien disliking Rhys is fine but Rhys disliking him is bullying? Need I remind y’all that these are both two grown ass men?
“Forcing traumatized Priestess to work for him.” I didn’t even think people were dumb enough to hate on him for this but here we are. The library is not a prison for the priests who live there. It’s a sanctuary where they are taken to heal and they can leave whenever they are ready to. There are even counselors/therapists there to help them.
“Purposely keeping Nesta ignorant about her powers so he can control her.” If I remember correctly it was actually her who chose to refuse to learn about her abilities and it was her who threw a tantrum when they suggested that she starts learning again. The IC never forced Nesta to be powerless or under their control. She willingly refused to learn about her powers.
“Hating Nesta and abusing her because she didn’t bow to him.” I don’t even know how many times it’s said and shown that Rhys doesn’t enforce rank unless he absolutely has to. His own friends talk shit to him but you actually think he disliked Nesta because she did it? Maybe just maybe his dislike for her came from him watching her repeatedly hurt his wife? You can say he was wrong for defending Nesta against Feyre all you want but painting him out to be the bad guy for simply disliking a woman who hurt his wife is insanity.
Bonus: “Brainwashing Nesta to be happy with how everyone treated her.” This argument is just so unserious I don’t even know how to counter it😭.
“Degrading Azriel and forbidding him to see Elain and in the process taking away their choices.” This is just another instance where he was completely justified in his decision. You have to put yourself in his shoes for a second. One, he’s already stressed out because he thinks that his wife, child, and he himself are going to die and the last thing he needs is to be worried about losing an important ally over Elain and Azriel. Two, from his perspective it looks like Azriel just wanted to fuck Elain and he didn’t actually have feelings for her. “Well how could he not know that Azriel likes Elain” because as I stated before throughout Acosf his main priority was Feyre being pregnant and finding a way for her to survive it. Of course he’s not going to notice two people dancing around one another if he’s worried about his wife dying? A lot of you just forget that Rhys is also a High Lord who will put his people above everything (except for Feyre).
Ending it here even though I could go on and on about how delusional a lot of his antis are. This post would just be way too long.
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gwynrielendgame · 3 years
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Gwyncien part 3
Idk if y’all will like this one as much. It’s kind of a filler but it took forever to write so I’m posting it anyways. I’ll tag people who have asked below.
Gwyn thought she might puke and it had nothing to do with Lucien's winnowing abilities. She never thought she would feel so nauseas especially after the blood rite. She supposes that the imminent fear of death had her more distracted from her typical anxieties. Now that she could focus on the fact that she was actually leaving Velaris, she felt sick. She grabbed onto Lucien harder and closed her eyes tightly. What felt like hours later, although it was truly only a minute or two, Lucien spoke.
"Welcome to the band of exiles." She opened her eyes to a surprisingly large castle. She was not sure what she expected, perhaps an abandoned cabin, but the building was spectacular and beautiful.
"Jurian and Vassa are excited to meet you." Lucien added as they continued to stand out front. It appeared that he would allow her to stand here for as long as she needed. She knew that if she demanded he take her right back he would. His words finally caught up with her brain that seemed to be running a mile a minute. Why would his closest friends be excited to meet her she thought. It made her anxious for the first time. Perhaps she mistook his friendly countenance for something less than it actually was. She would address it later. She began walking towards the door, mumbling under her breath.
"Let's get this over with."
"That's the spirit!" Lucien inserted much more enthusiasm than necessary into his tone. He grabbed her arm and laced it through his which had her feeling very grateful. Her knees were shaking as she walked and she knew he could tell. Gwyn felt the need to remind herself that he had a mate. She wondered if he would be desperate enough to make a move on her. A large, beautifully decorated foyer greeted them. Two very beautiful people stood in the middle of the white marble floor. Gwyn tightened her hold on Lucien when she saw the new male, stopping them mid-walk. She started her mind-stilling technique as the anxiety clawed at her chest and throat. She would eventually have to face men if she ever wanted to get her revenge. She could not allow a few measly physical reactions hold her back. She took one last deep breathe and then continued walking towards the couple. She spent less time analyzing the female, but from what she saw Gwyn knew she was beautiful. She also had red hair, however, Gwyn's hair was more of a copper/bronze red while Vassa had a deep maroon red. Gwyn kept her eye on Jurian though.
"You are making her nervous, standing there like two parents ready to scold their children." Lucien reprimanded his friends with a roll of his eyes. The female waved his comment off, completely ignoring him. Gwyn did not miss the look they shared, however.
"I am Vassa and this is Jurian." She gestured to the male next to her. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard so much about you." It unnerved Gwyn that the few interactions that she had with Lucien warranted Vassa knowing much about her. She did not think much on it as she continued to watch the beautiful male. He had hair cropped short to his head and a deep skin tone. His looks were not what had her distracted though. It was the weapons. Gwyn found it unnecessary for him to require weapons while meeting with her. Instead of exchanging pleasantries like socially integrated Fae would, she began her questioning.
"Why so many daggers?" She gave him a scathing look while cocking her head to the side. He would not manipulate her into believing anything but the truth and she wanted that to be conveyed in her facial expression. His eyebrows shot up into his hairline as if he were surprised.
"I could ask you the same question." He threw back at her with a smirk. It only infuriated her more. He could not tell she had daggers on her. She was wearing a cloak over her priestess robes with silver majesty strapped to her thigh. There was no possible way he could see the outline through her clothes. She narrowed her eyes and waited for him to respond. The staring contest was only broken when Lucien cleared his throat and Vassa nudged him.
"Fine." Jurian conceded with a smile. "Vassa is woefully bad at handling anything sharp, so I have taken on the role of her protecter while soon-to-be high lord is out and about." Both Vassa and Lucien seemed annoyed by his explanation. The anxiety began to loosen in her chest though. He was not completely trusted, but in this moment he would not attack.
"Gwyn." Is all she managed for an introduction. It seemed good enough for Lucien because he began leading her off to the side of the room towards a grand staircase.
"I will be showing Gwyneth her room and then we can talk." He threw over his shoulder. She held onto his arm all the way up the long staircase and through an even longer hallway. She laughed internally at the size of the mansion considering only three people resided here. A thought occurred to her when they finally came to a stop at a door.
"How many people live here?" She finally let go of Lucien and took a step back.
"Just us three. And now you. Occasionally we have a guest or two, but I will give you ample warning before that time. This will be your bedroom here. Mine is right across the hall if you need anything. There is a lock on the inside, but if you would like I can show you how to set up some furniture to keep the door from opening at all." Lucien gave her a small smile. It made her soften towards him even more.
"Thank you. I appreciate that. I appreciate all that you have done for me. Truly. I cannot say thank you enough." She gave him a short hug to convey her gratefulness. He returned it, hesitantly. His touch was feather light. As though he did not want to touch her and make her uncomfortable. She stepped back towards the door once more and began to walk inside.
"I will come get you before dinner. You have a full wardrobe to pick from in there if you would like to change. If there is anything you require, just ask." Gwyn nodded and then he was gone.
The first thing Gwyn noticed was that the satchel she packed earlier before leaving was sitting on the bed. She had been so nervous about everything else that she had not even realized it was missing. Gwyn continued to survey the room. It was beautiful. The decorations reminded her of the night court. Lucien really did pay attention to the smallest details. Gwyn truly believed Elain was an idiot for not giving Lucien a chance. The bedding was all black and the drapes twinkled with specks of a shiny material. It almost made them look like stars. The bed was unnecessarily large and so was the desk that was off to the side of the room. It had been such a mentally exhausting day that Gwyn decided a nap was needed. She locked her door and stripped off her cloak. She knew the lock would do nothing against winnowing, but as far as she knew only Lucien could do that. She placed her desk chair under the doorknob anyways. She fell onto the bed without even removing her priestess robes. She did remove her dagger and place it under her pillow for protection. A small smile graced her face as she thought of a certain spymaster who also slept with a dagger under his pillow.
Soft footsteps woke Gwyn from her sleep. She had no idea how long she had slept, but knew that dinner must be approaching if it had not already passed. A light knock on the door made her jump.
"Gwyn? Dinner is almost ready if you would like to join us downstairs." Lucien yelled through the door. Gwyn's racing heart began to slow as she realized where she was and who was speaking to her.
"One moment." She decided this dinner was not worth changing her clothes so she grabbed her dagger, putting it back in its sheath, and flattened her hair down with her hands. She did not want to keep Lucien waiting after all. The second she stepped out of the room, a sly smile crossed the male's face.
"What?" Gwyn demanded a tad self-consciously. She flattened her hair once more.
"Enjoyed a nap I see?" He was teasing, but that did nothing to stop her from shoving him.
"Oh shut up and show me the dining room." A real smile graced his face as he put his arm out for her to grab. She was half tempted to shove his arm away for his teasing. Instead, she rolled her eyes and held onto his arm anyways.
"Your wish is my command."
The castle was truly beautiful. Gwyn knew she could spend hours looking at the art pieces- some of them looked familiar. She would guess those were done by Feyre. The marble flooring and intricate ceilings were only part of the beauty. It has clearly been decorated. Perhaps Vassa and Lucien bonded over similar tastes in rugs. The thought made Gwyn giggle internally. The castle was so large that it took them about five minutes before they reached the dining hall. Gwyn took her place next to Lucien across from Jurian and Vassa who were already pleasantly discussing Vassa’s doomed fate. They quickly stopped talking once she sat down and turned the conversation to her.
"So I have been dying to know," Jurian begins "is Rhysand as much of a prick as he pretends to be?" Lucien sent him a glare which only had Jurian shrugging with an innocent expression upon his face. Gwyn sighed.
"Depends on who you are. He is kind to me, but only out of pity from what he witnessed at Sangravah. I have seen him be cruel to those he purposefully does not want to understand. I am not here as your spy though. That is as much from me as you will get about Rhysand." Gwyn truly felt a level of gratefulness to the high lord, however, he often squandered any other positive feelings she had of him by constantly looking at her as if he was seeing that day in Sangravah all over again. It did nothing to help her forget. Jurian gave a contemplative look before turning his attention to his plate. Vassa decided to try her hand at conversation.
"How are the Archeron sisters? I know the death of their father was hard on all of them." Vassa took a sip of wine. Gwyn did not want to discuss this either though. Speaking of Nesta made her miss her sisters.
"They are as well as could be expected." It was generic and had the fiery red head pursing her lips in displeasure. Gwyn did not quite care.
“Gwyn is a beautiful singer.” Lucien finally changed the subject to something that she did not mind engaging in. “We will need you to sing for us sometime.” Gwyn nodded in agreement. The conversation continued on with Lucien boasting about Gwyn, talking about her training as a Valkyrie and winning the blood rite. She started feeling uncomfortable with all the compliments he was sending her way. It reminded her of a conversation she needed to have with him. Right now was as good of a time as any she supposed.
"It was extremely generous of you to offer your help, but I feel I should inform you that I am not interested in anything other than your friendship." Gwyn interrupted Lucien mid-speech to clarify. He looked startled by her statement. Jurian choked on his wine and Vassa cackled like there would be no tomorrow. It made Gwyn feel as though she was on the outside of some joke they all knew.
"Excuse me?" Lucien, for once, looked genuinely surprised. It was as if he could not quite believe she would say that and needed her to repeat it just in case he heard her wrong. Maybe Gwyn misinterpreted some of his advances.
"I know our coupling seems inevitable," Gwyn explained further a bit shyly, not quite sure of herself anymore. "But I am not interested in any one that is not Azriel." Vassa's cackles slowed down to more of a chuckle and Jurian kept sending amused looks to Lucien.
"Gwyn, I am your grandfather." Lucien approached the topic slowly. "I assumed your mother talked about me, but, and I really hope this is the case, you did not know this?" His tone lifted up at the end in questioning.
Oh, Gwyn thought. She was not easily surprised, but this topped the cake. She tried to think back to anytime her mother mentioned her grandparents, but the instances were few and far between. Gwyn realized she did not even know their names. Suddenly, every compliment and favor from Lucien no longer appeared odd. He was complimenting and bragging about his only living granddaughter. This took much longer to process than Gwyn would like to admit. Unexpectedly, she felt an unwarranted amount of anger towards Lucien.
"And you waited until this very moment to tell me? What the hell Lucien? Or should I say grandpa?" Her tone was more hostile than it had been with anyone else. The sarcastic comment at the end had the red-haired male cringing. Jurian and Vassa started laughing once more.
"I know this is not great timing to interrupt, but I, for one, will be referring to you as grandpa from here on out." Jurian inserted. Vassa gave an amused smirk, but said nothing. It earned him a glare from Gwyn and Lucien though.
"I apologize, Gwyneth, for the delayed reveal. I thought you knew that's why I offered to help you, though. I assumed your mother had spoken of Jesminda and I. She was rather young when we had to surrender her, I suppose." Lucien looked so genuine that Gwyn's anger diminished as fast as it had appeared. Gwyn's family history had always been a mystery to her. She might finally get some answers.
"Jesminda is my grandmother?" Gwyn inquired. Her own mother had never given details. This adventure was beginning to answer many questions she had always had.
"Yes." Lucien said. Gwyn was trying to understand his expression and tone. She spent another minute watching him. Their other table mates had gone quiet as well. It did not take a genius to understand the moment. Jesminda had never been mentioned before to her from anyone and she was not here right now. She was dead that much was clear. Lucien cleared his throat and for a brief second Gwyn could see the emotion he was so desperately trying to hide, guilt.
"Why did you give my mother to Sangravah?" Gwyn realized it probably had something to do with Jesminda's death. She truly wanted more details. Lucien sighed heavily, probably understanding that there were many questions in store for him.
"Beron just ordered for Jesminda to be tortured and executed in front of me. I am certain if he had known of your mother, he would have had the same future in store for her. I had kept the child a secret from everyone except a brother, who helped me hide her after Jesminda's death." It did not escape Gwyn's attention that Lucien neither referred to Beron as his high lord nor as his father. Lucien ran a hand through his hair roughly. Her hair was clearly from him, but it was his one russet eye that had her pausing. An eye that suddenly reminded her so much of Catrin.
"Why did he kill her?" She asked softly. Gwyn realized she would never be able to deny Lucien anything. One look from his russet eye and Gwyn would give in simply because of its similarity to her dead twin.
"Because he's a spiteful old man." Vassa spit out. Clearly, she was just as enraged by the situation. It made Gwyn wonder if Vassa and Lucien had ever been together. Lucien rolled his eyes at the fiery female. He seemed to roll his eyes constantly while he was here.
"Because he could," Lucien added. "Your mother, who was about six at the time, was extremely unsafe even under my brother and I's protection. Beron would put your mate to shame with all the torture tactics he uses. I dropped her off on the doorstep of that church in the middle of the night. I always planned to go back and visit, but I was nervous and I knew she was safe there. I felt it was selfish to visit her since it only put her in more danger." Gwyn felt sad for everyone involved. Sad for Lucien who watched his love be tortured and executed in front of him only for him to have to turn around and surrender his daughter to a church. Sad for Jesminda who died that day. Sad for her mother who must have lived every day wondering where her parents went and why they abandoned her. Sad for Catrin who never got to meet her grandfather.
"I had a sister." Gwyn felt the need to mention. She was unaware of how much Lucien knew, but it suddenly felt important to her that he knew of Catrin.
"I know." He responded with a sad smile. "This family is well versed in tragedy." Gwyn had so many more questions. She had time to ask though. Her questions were making Lucien relive memories that were better left untouched. Perhaps he had endured enough for one night. She looked down at her full plate. She had been so distracted that she had not touched a thing. She began to devour her food as the rest of the table engaged in a debate about seasonings and which was the best.
"Have you and Vassa..." Gwyn trailed off, leaving the innuendo open when Lucien walked her back to her room after dinner.
"She wishes." He chuckled.
"Would you be with Elain if you could?"
"I would not jump into a mating ceremony but I would like the chance to get to know her. She has not given me the opportunity." He answered practically with his arms folded behind his back. Gwyn felt the need to assure him that knowing Elain would not make any of this easier.
"Trust me, it's better this way." She did not want to leave the conversation on such a sore point. As they approached her door, Gwyn jokingly shoved him. "So this would make Elain my step-grandmother?" Lucien was quiet before speaking. It was not the reaction she hoped for.
"Elain does not know. No one knows. And no one can know, even Azriel. At least until Beron is dead. Make no mistakes if Beron were to discover you, he would torture you simply to spite my mother." His lips pursued together in displeasure.
"Azriel is very good with secrets." She felt the need to remind Lucien. He is a Shadowsinger after all.
"Not with his high lord. If Rhysand knew, he would tell Beron if he had too. If Nyx or Feyre's life were on the line, he would do anything to save them. That includes selling you out. This is very important, Gwyneth. You cannot tell anyone- promise me." His stare was so intense that she could not look away. He grabbed her hands in a tight grip to make sure she understood how serious he was. Gwyneth had never purposely kept a secret from Azriel before. Hopefully, Beron would die sooner rather than later.
"I promise."
+++
Two weeks later
"What do you mean she’s gone?" Azriel was shocked to discover that Gwyn had left two weeks ago. He thought she had been avoiding training because of the kiss they shared- not because she was gone. He had been eating dinner with Nesta and Cassian when he finally had the courage to mention the priestess and where she had gone. Now he was mad that he had not asked sooner.
“She left with Lucien on some adventure. I am not really sure. Her note was unclear.” Nesta responded solemnly. The House dropped a piece of chocolate cake in front of her which made a small smile curve at the brash female’s lips. Azriel’s stomach dropped at the mention of Lucien. Gwyn did not know him well enough to go on an adventure with him. Gwyn would not leave her sisters here and she would definitely not choose Lucien to be the first person she left Velaris with. He was certain of that. He also knew Lucien to be a spiteful person. Perhaps he was tired of watching Azriel and Elain parade their relationship around him, making a fool of the one-eyed male. He could have taken Gwyn as retribution.
“He must have kidnapped her. Gwyn would never willingly leave the House of Wind with anyone- let alone Lucien.” Azriel knew this had to be true. Gwyn would never just up and leave. Guilt started gnawing at his chest as he realize he could have prevented her from being taken. If only his shadows would work properly around her, he could have prevented Lucien’s nefarious plans from being completed. His siphons started glowing the longer he though about it. He had to clench his hands around his silverware to keep from winnowing straight to the Band of Exiles and demanding his mate be given back. Nesta gave Azriel an odd look before speaking.
“She left a note that said she was willingly leaving with him and as much as he annoys the shit out of me, I don’t think he would hurt Gwyn.” A frown marred her face now, though. As if she had not considered that her sister could be in trouble. It only annoyed Az further.
“He could have made her write the note.” He reminded in a quiet, harsh voice. Gwyn and Lucien were not friends. She would have no reason to leave with him. Cassian was cautiously glancing between his mate and Azriel. He did not know what to say that would not piss off Az, so he was choosing to let Nesta handle the situation instead.
“She is not in danger.” Nesta declared after peeking at her wrist. There was no possible way for her to know whether Gwyn was safe or not. Even Azriel could not find out given how stubborn his shadows were being. He could always take a trip to the Band of Exiles, but he had to assume Lucien would not be stupid enough to take Gwyn there.
“You do not know that.” His wings flexed in anger. The siphons atop his hands were glowing dangerously bright now. He needed to get his emotions under control.
“Yes I do.” Nesta insisted with a roll of her eyes that annoyed Azriel to no ends. “My bracelet is not glowing. They glow when any of us is in trouble. It’s how I found her in the blood rite. It has not glowed since then either.”
“Hers could have fell off.” Gwyn would not have left after the kiss they shared. It was too important of a moment between them for her to have left immediately after.
“Gwyn and Lucien are friends, Az. You know if you want someone to blame for her leaving, maybe you should look inward.” It was a sharp jab that hurt more than the Shadowsinger would ever admit.
Suddenly though, he could see the hurt on Nesta’s face. It was there for only a second, but he saw it. Nesta was just as hurt by Gwyn’s departure as he was. He finally unclenched his hands from around his silverware- his fight giving out. Nesta was right. Lucien would never kidnap Gwyn especially if he thought it might upset Elain. Azriel chose this time to leave, however. He would not stoop to Nesta’s level and trade jab after jab. He headed to the training arena. It was hours later when slight footsteps could be heard making their way over to him. He was sitting at the edge, his exhaustion forcing him to take a break. Nesta took a seat next to him, resting her head against his shoulder.
"I miss her too, Shadowsinger." He said nothing in return because there was nothing else he could say. "You are worse than I was with the mating bond." Nesta tried again with a joke this time to try and get Azriel talking. She knew he was not normally one to discuss his feelings though. He gave her a withering look at that comment. It was an ongoing joke within the inner circle that Nesta handled the mate situation particularly horrible.
“Shut up.” Was all he responded with and he only said it halfheartedly.
"I am just saying, if you ask me for advice I could save you some time and heartache." They both continued to look out at the Velaris skyline.
"And what precious advice would you bestow upon me?" The comment was dripping in sarcasm, but he decided to humor her.
"Anyone other than your mate will be a disappointment, especially to you. Just accept it and her and everything else will become background noise." She looked up at him for a second before setting her head back down. He was not one to seek out comfort through touch, but sitting here with Nesta made him feel a bit better. Maybe it was because they could both ruminate in their sadness at Gwyn’s departure.
"Ah so wise. I had not considered that." Again the sarcasm was heavy.
"Well if you have thought about it and have not done it then I would consider you an idiot. You do not strike me as an idiot, Az." She was frustrated now- throwing her arms up and crossing them over her chest. He chuckled lightly.
"I think I might be." He admitted. Everything was so confusing with Mor and Elain that he lost focus of what was truly important.
"Gwyn is the most compassionate and understanding person I know. If she can love me, she can love you too. Just be honest with her." Her voice was soft now in a way that it never was. She always seemed to push him even when it seemed the rest of his family refused. It was the thing he liked most about Nesta- she was never scared of him or his feelings.
"Thanks Nes." He settled his head on top of hers and they stayed like that for hours- reminiscing in all things Gwyn.
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theladyofdeath · 4 years
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Rags & Riches {16}
Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU. Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313 All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.
Warning: Mature content strung throughout.
A/N: I never realize how much I drop “fuck” until I proofread...ah, oh well. 5 chapters left. Do y’all mind when I post 2 chapters in 1 day? yay? nay? I’ll only do 1 if it’s too much, but either way, R&R will be finishing up, soon.
Enjoy (you know, if possible).
Leave a comment to be tagged & tell me what you think! :)
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One month had passed since they arrived in Hybern.
They had endured one battle, which lasted two weeks. Many of Hybern’s men went down, but a large number perished from their own side, too.
Even when they relaxed at camp, they were always on alert, always kept one eye open.
Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand sat around the fire.
The three of them had created quite the bond, never leaving one another’s side - both in battle, and out. Rhysand had an opportunity to stay away from the front lines because of his title, but he did not. He stayed with Azriel and Cassian, refusing the opportunity without any hesitation. 
“Elain says she should start showing soon,” Azriel announced, the other two looking up from their letters. “She also says morning sickness is getting much worse.” 
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Cassian grinned. “If a little you was growing inside of me, I would probably feel like shit, too.” 
Azriel chuckled. “Yeah.”
Cassian knew that Azriel’s chest ached as he wondered how long he would have to be away. It seemed as if the war had only just begun, but he felt like he had been away from Elain for far too long.
“Any news from Feyre or Nesta?” Azriel asked.
“Feyre says Nesta is being extra bitchy,” Rhysand mumbled. “Other than that, she says she wrote to Elain, telling her to visit soon and their father is finally getting back this week. Oh, and they got a dog. Named him Oswald.” 
“Oswald?” Azriel asked, brows raised. “That’s a….nice….name.” 
Rhysand snorted. “And Nesta?”
They both looked at Cassian, who was reading his letter with narrowed eyes. “She gave me an update on the weather, says it has been raining a lot. I also hear of Oswald, and it is a terrible name, so don’t lie. She said she put a gift in here for me, but there was nothing in the paper.” He looked around for the envelope to put the letter back inside, and once he found it, and opened it up, he froze.
Azriel raised his brows as Rhysand reached for the envelope.
Cassian quickly put it out of his reach. 
Rhysand’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”
Cassian put the letter back in the envelope and closed it. “Nothing. A photograph.”
Azriel blinked. “Of what?”
“Hmmm,” Rhysand hummed, leaning back. “Is this photograph of Nesta?”
“You will never know, will you?” Cassian asked.
“Is she nude?” Azriel chimed.
Cassian backed up, toward his tent. “I am going to bid you both goodnight.”
Rhysand howled as Azriel’s grin widened. “Alright. Don’t get too vocal with yourself, no one wants to hear all that.” 
Cassian rolled his eyes as he climbed inside, shutting the tent flaps behind him. He used a match to light his lantern, and his pipe, as he laid back against his blankets, atop the grass. 
He pulled open the yellow envelope, once more, removing the letter and setting it aside as he reached for the other contents. He pulled out a long, silver chain, an oval locket attached to the bottom. When he opened it up, all the tension was released from his body. 
On one side was Nesta, and on the other, was Marigold. Cassian chuckled at the photograph of the horse before brushing his thumb over the one of Nesta. She sat, poised, her chin lifted high. Even in black and white, he could see the intensity of her gray-blue eyes. 
He closed it shut and clasped the chain around his neck, tucking the locket beneath his shirt.
There was another photograph inside of the envelope. Azriel’s guess had not been wrong. Cassian took it into his hands and brought it closer to the lantern, his heart beating wildly. Her hair hung loose around her pale shoulders, reaching just below her breasts, which Cassian admired as he brought his pipe to his lips. Her legs were open, waiting for him, and he suddenly had the realization that someone must have taken such a photo, and wondered how Nesta had swung it without anyone seeing.
He laughed, under his breath, at the thought of Nesta ordering someone around to take a nude photo, only to have it instantly taken away and put in an envelope to ship to him overseas. He turned it over and on the back, it read, I know what you are thinking. Do not worry, Helion helped me with such a project and kept all details to himself. Cassian snorted - knew what he would be thinking, indeed. Then, below, it read, For when you are lonely. At night, this is how I wait for you to return. Hurry back.
Cassian flipped the photograph back over and ran his fingers down the image. She was so beautiful, especially when she was natural, bare. Nothing but the locket in which she sent along, the locket that was now around his neck, covered her skin. The silver oval laid between her breasts. 
He studied her until he could no longer bear to keep still. 
After unzipping his trousers, he wrapped his fist around his cock and began to stroke himself. His head fell back and his eyes fell shut, but the image of Nesta, his Nesta, remained.
~~~~~
Rhysand was eating a bowl of some kind of slop the next morning when Cassian emerged from his tent and stretched.
“Have a nice date with your hand last night?” Rhysand asked, filling his mouth.
“Fuck off,” Cassian said, shaking his head but unable to stop his grin. “Where’s Az?”
“Bringing our letters to the post. They’re going out this afternoon.” 
Cassian nodded, reaching for one of the bowls Rhysand had brought. “Okay, I grew up poor, but even this shit looks disgusting to me...and my standards are fairly low.” 
“At least it keeps us from starving to death,” Rhysand said. “Hopefully.”
Cassian was just about to reply as a bell sounded from the middle of camp. Rhysand quickly met his gaze, his jaw set, as soldiers all around them got to their feet.
Azriel was running toward them, eyes wild. “They’re coming, less than a mile away. We have to go.”
Rhysand swore, dropping his bowl to the ground as Cassian reached for their guns. A moment later, helmets were atop their heads and rifles were tossed across their backs and they were running across the landscape. Once in formation, they marched as one through the valley and halted. Beyond was the battlefield they had already seen, the battlefield in which so many had died around them. Rhysand looked to Cassian on his left. His friend was focused, his breathing even. He had a good shot, if he ever had nerves, he did not show it. Then Rhysand looked to Azriel on his right, who was closing his eyes. Azriel was fast, could dodge anything. Rhysand was not worried about either of them. He would not allow himself to be. They would stick together. They would make it out.
“Stay together,” Rhysand whispered.
The other two repeated, in the same quiet calm, “Stay together.”
~~~~~
“Feyre?” Nesta called, knocking on her sister’s door. “A letter just arrived from Elain. She will be here next week, she says.”
The door was opened a moment later.
Nesta froze.
Feyre’s eyes were red and puffy. “Sorry, I just….” her words trailed off and Nesta pulled her sister into her arms.
“Has something happened?” she asked. “Is Rhysand okay?”
Feyre nodded. “Yes, it’s nothing like that, I just….Nesta, I’m pregnant.” 
Nesta blinked. “Pregnant?”
Feyre laughed, wiping at her eyes. “Yes.”
Nesta smiled, wrapping her arms around Feyre even tighter. “That’s great news. Why are you crying?”
Feyre allowed Nesta into her room before she closed the door. They both sat by the fireplace, on the floor.
“I knew when I last wrote Rhys,” she explained. “But, I did not tell him. Now I feel guilty.”
“Why?” Nesta asked. “Why keep it a secret?”
Feyre nibbled on her bottom lip. “Is it truly better to tell him?”
Nesta’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean...would telling him make him happier or just more upset that he is not here?” she asked. “He says he misses me, that all he thinks about is coming home, and if I tell him that I am with child, it would just be more of a burden. I thought perhaps I should wait, until he returns.”
Nesta nodded. “Well, I think you should let him know. He would want to know, considering he tried so hard to impregnate you to begin with.”
Feyre laughed, pushing her sister in the arm. “Perhaps. I do not know the right answer to anything these days.”
Nesta stared at her hands when she said.  “Would you like to know something that will cheer you up? Perhaps make you laugh?”
Feyre raised a brow. “You are going to tell me something that will make me laugh? That seems unlikely.”
Nesta rolled her eyes. “In the last letters we sent, I put a photograph of myself inside.”
Feyre blinked. “Why would that make me laugh?”
Nesta could not control her smile as she said, “Because I was not wearing any clothing.”
Feyre’s mouth fell open before she broke into a fit of laughter. “You? Nesta? You sent Cassian a nude photograph?” 
Nesta nodded, her own laughter sputtering out. “Yes. I wonder if he has received it, yet.”
Feyre put her hands over her mouth. “I cannot believe you did such a thing! How was it? Was it awkward?”
Nesta shook her head. “No, Helion took it when he was here last week, in my room. It was actually quite invigorating. I have never felt so….I don’t know. Powerful.” 
Feyre’s laughter died down as she watched the flames. “How very risque of you.” 
“Indeed,” Nesta agreed, then looked at her sister. “I am happy for you.” She nodded toward her sister’s abdomen. “Truly.”
“Thank you,” Feyre said, patting her sister’s knee. “And I am so very proud of you.”
Nesta looked over at her sister and they both broke into laughter, once more.
They were not certain of much lately, but they were certain that when their worlds were full of the unknown, laughter was the best medication.
~~~~~
Cassian had never seen so much blood.
The explosion happened quickly, no one had seen it coming. At the time, Cassian had his rifle pointed at one of the enemy, and the moment he pulled the trigger, as if on que, the ground exploded.
He was knocked on the ground, into the dirt, his ears ringing as he looked around for his brothers.
Rhysand was on the ground a few yards away, but he was already pulling himself up, rifle in hand. 
To his other side, men lay scattered, motionless.
He called out for Azriel, and when he looked back to Rhysand, his violet eyes were wide and panicked. 
“There!” he shouted, but Cassian could hardly hear him. He turned himself around, pulling himself fully off the ground, as he followed Rhysand’s gaze.
Azriel lay still, his gun a few feet beside him, his helmet having flown from his head. He was covered in blood, how much was actually his, Cassian was not certain. 
They were all covered in blood.
Their fellow man’s.
Their enemies.
Cassian and Rhysand ran to his side, sinking down in the dirt alongside him. Rhysand instantly had his back to them both, his gun raised, protecting them. 
Cassian pressed his ear to Azriel’s chest. “He’s still breathing.”
Rhysand gave a curt nod, the only sign he had heard as he pulled the trigger, firing upon any threat coming toward them. 
Cassian found the gaping wound coming from his side and tore open his shirt, where blood was flowing. “Fuck,” Cassian breathed, pressing his hands down on the wound to stop the flow. “Fuck! Rhys….Rhys, we have to get him out of here. We have to get him to medical.” 
“Can you carry him?” Rhysand called, still holding up his gun, not looking behind him. 
Cassian panicked. He was losing blood. So much blood.
He tossed his gun up to Rhysand, who took it and put it around his shoulder without taking his concentration from his own. Cassian quickly pulled off his shirt and tore it into long strips, his helmet discarded. He bundled up a few of the strips and pressed them into the wound, then tied a few together to make it long enough to wrap around Azriel’s abdomen a few times. Once he tied it tight, he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I can.”
“Okay,” Rhysand called. “Let me know when to walk, I’ve got you both.”
The blood was still pouring from the wound, although not as bad.
With a grunt, Cassian lifted Azriel off the ground, carrying him over his shoulder. “Fuck, you heavy bastard,” he groaned, getting himself into a steady position. “Alright, Rhys, I’m moving!”
Then they both were moving, Azriel unconscious, but his heart still beating within his chest, against Cassian’s back. He was heavy, and nearly Cassian’s height, but Cassian did not let himself think of it as he hurried through the gunfire and around those that were already dead.
“Do not die on me,” Cassian grunted, Azriel’s weight starting to slow him down, “Do not fucking die on me. Elain would kill me if I let you die. Do not die, you hear me? You’re going to be a dad, do not fucking die on your kid!” Cassian yelled, eyes still ahead, blurred with tears but determined. “Do not fucking die on me!” 
Rhysand’s gun fired from behind them. 
“We’re almost to the clear!” Cassian called.
“I don’t see many more from Hybern!” Rhysand called back. 
Cassian could feel the warmth of Azriel’s blood sinking through the shreds of his shirt, onto his own skin, down his arm.
He suddenly became lighter a moment later, once they neared the end of the valley. Rhysand, with both rifles slung across his chest, said, “I’ll take his legs, you take his arms.”
Cassian nodded, putting Azriel down as gently as he could among the grass. He put his fingers against Azriel’s neck and swore before putting his forearms underneath Azriel’s underarms.
Rhysand took him beneath the knees and they lifted him from the ground, and they hurried, as fast as they could, across the remaining distance.
When they reached the camp, the medical tent was the first to appear.
They brought Azriel inside and a nurse yelled for a table to be cleared. Rhysand and Cassian put him down, then both stepped back to let the nurses swarm him.
“He’s going to be okay, yeah?” Rhysand asked, face paled. “He’s still breathing? He’s going to be okay?”
No one answered him, which only made Cassian ask, louder, “Just tell us he’ll fucking make it!” 
A nurse pressed her hands against the newly unraveled wound as she said, calmly, “Yes, he’s still breathing.”
“That doesn’t answer my fucking question,” Cassian spat. 
Rhysand met him at his side and started to pull Cassian back. “Let them work.”
Rhysand’s hands were surprisingly calm as Cassian turned to him, Rhys’ face covered in the blood of others and dirt, his hair drenched in sweat and wild. 
“He can’t die, Rhys,” Cassian breathed.
“I know,” Rhysand said, taking Cassian’s face in his hands. “I know, alright? So we have to let the nurses work. Yeah? We have to let the nurses work, Cass.” 
Cassian nodded, and Rhysand did not let go of Cassian’s face until his breathing began to even.
A soldier poked his head into the tent a moment later and said, “Hybern retreated. It is done for the day.”
The nurses gave a sign of understanding and the soldier went away. Cassian had not even heard them coming back, had not even heard the shouts of victory from the outside. 
“You two may stay, if you wish, but you have to sit to the side,” a nurse said, the one with her hands against Azriel’s wound.
Cassian nodded as he and Rhysand went to the side of the tent and slumped to the ground. 
Neither of them spoke as they waited. 
~~~~~
Hours passed, the day had gone and turned into night, and he did not open his eyes. The nurses had sterilized the wound the best they could and sewed his skin shut. He had lost a lot of blood. 
Rhysand looked at Cassian every once in a while, but neither of them said a word, neither of them dared. Cassian still sat with his chest bare, covered in filth, dried blood matting his hair to his forehead. Rhysand assumed he did not look much better. 
The minutes were passing too slowly, it was agonizing. Rhysand had killed more than he thought he would have to since arriving at Hybern. The thought was unnerving, but he tried not to dwell on it. He was protecting himself, protecting Azriel and Cassian. 
“If he dies, how would I ever go back?” Cassian whispered. Face glowing in the lanterns that surrounded them. “How could I stand there, in front of Elain, and Feyre, and Nesta, and tell them that Azriel died?”
Rhysand cleared his throat, his gaze falling to his hands where he began picking off the dried, crimson coat. “I don’t know.”
Cassian nodded, eyes empty. “They have a baby on the way, Rhys.”
“Yeah,” Rhysand breathed, not bothering to wipe away the tear that fell down his tanned cheek.
Cassian shook his head, but said no more.
When the silence became unbearable, Rhysand stood and walked to Azriel’s side. His chest was still rising and falling, his wound closed. Rhysand reached up to feel his forehead. He did not feel feverish. 
“Before we left,” Rhysand began, quietly, “me and Feyre tried, for a baby. Seeing you here now…” his words trailed off and he shook his head. “Elain needs you. That baby needs you. Fight for them, yeah?” he used his torn shirtsleeve to wipe at his eyes, his nose. “If you can hear me, you have to fight for them. Because if it were me in your place, and Feyre was pregnant, that woman would cut off my fucking balls.” 
Cassian stood and joined them at Azriel’s other side. Rhysand knew Cassian was thinking of their conversation on the ship. I wanted to give her a baby, to look at, to love, to remind her of me, if I don’t make it back. 
Azriel’s eyes rolled behind his eyelids, and both Rhysand and Cassian froze. 
“Az?” Rhysand whispered.
Azriel’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stirred, then groaned, softly.
Cassian and Rhysand said nothing as they watched, as they waited. 
Rhysand thought he would collapse once Azriel’s eyes fluttered open and met his gaze. “Rhys. Cass….”
Rhsyand nodded toward Cassian where Azriel’s eyes slowly trailed to. Cassian stood completely still, as if he were afraid to breathe. 
Azriel let out a breath as his eyes closed, once more. 
But his hands found theirs. One in Rhysand’s, the other in Cassian’s. 
“My side…” Azriel began, as if each word brought him pain, “fucking hurts.” 
Cassian, unable to control himself, began to laugh, and when he couldn’t stop, Rhysand started to laugh, too.
Azriel’s hands tightened around theirs, smiling faintly, eyes still closed. 
That battlefield had been littered with the dead, husbands and sons and fathers who would be no more.
But Azriel would not be one of them.
They promised to stay together.
They would stay together. 
At least, for now.
~~~~~
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theladyofdeath · 6 years
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Friday Night Lights {ACOTAR}
Chapter 15
Summary: Inspired by the series Friday Night Lights. In a town that is obsessed with football, a group of teenagers are glorified for what they bring to the field. But what the people of Velaris don’t realize is that there is a lot more to life than football, and it’s not always pretty.
Revolves around Cassian, Nesta, Elain, Lucien, Azriel, Morrigan, Amren, Feyre, and Rhysand.
*Warning: This fic deals with sensitive material.
*Note: A chapter will be posted every Sunday & Wednesday.
Click here for previous chapters.
Author’s Note: Five more chapters and SHIT IS ABOUT TO GET REAL. 
Enjoy.
(I legit cried at y’all’s comments on chapter 14 ohmygod thank you.)
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"When you love something it loves you back in whatever way it has to love." - John Knowles 
Rhysand was breathless.
He had been with a lot of girls, and had seen a lot of beautiful things, but when Feyre opened the door he became weak in the knees. His bottom lip fell open, and he realized he looked like an idiot as she grinned, modestly.
He wasn’t alone, though.
Azriel was the same as he looked at Elain, then looked down at his own outfit, then back at Elain.
“You look beautiful,” Rhysand whispered, as he took her hand.
“Thank you,” she smiled, cheeks heating. “You look pretty good yourself.”
“Have fun!” a woman called from the doorway, as Feyre’s oldest sister stood beside her, scowling.
Rhysand waved as they walked to his BMW.
“Your sister looks like she wants to kill me,” he whispered in Feyre’s ear as he opened his passenger side door.
“She probably does,” Feyre muttered, sitting down and buckling her seatbelt.
He peeked over his shoulder after he shut Feyre’s door. Nesta was still watching him with slitted eyes. 
Yes, she definitely wanted him dead.
Azriel wasn’t saying anything, and Rhysand was pretty sure he was going into cardiac arrest.
Rhysand couldn’t blame him.
He peeked over at Feyre as he started his engine. She was stunning, in every sense of the word. Her red, silky dressed reached to her mid-thighs, and her golden-brown hair was curled and twisted so that it was neatly out of her face.
Beautiful. She was beautiful.
He cleared his throat. “So, ready?”
No one answered, and nervous tension filled the air.
Ready or not, they were off.
It was homecoming. 
Lucien and Vassa were riding in silence.
To Vassa’s surprise, Lucien had actually put quite a bit of effort into his appearance. It wasn’t that Lucien didn’t like to dress up – he actually did, a fact that Vassa loved about him. She was just surprised he had dressed up for her.
He wore a burgundy jacket and black pants, a gray button down shirt in perfect contrast to his red hair and russet eyes. His hair was combed back, out of his face. He was completely, utterly handsome.
She couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him for the entirety of the ride, then felt ridiculous.
Lucien and Vassa had been best friends since freshman year when they quickly bonded over their love for journalism and photography. He was her other half.
Or so she had thought.
They were made for one another. When they were together, nothing else mattered and all seemed right with the world. Until recently. Until Vassa had put herself out there and Lucien seemed to care less.
Until she put her heart on the line.Yet, Lucien only wanted to be with other girls.
With Elain. 
“So,” she said, trying to break the silence that had somehow grown uncomfortable. They had never had uncomfortable silence before. “Excited?”
“Yeah,” he said, although his voice was quiet.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, afraid of the answer.
“I just…..I don’t know. Not really looking forward to seeing Elain there with Azriel.”
Vassa tried to hide the hurt that was obviously showing in her eyes. “What’s so bad about Azriel?”
Lucien eyed Vassa. “Seriously? The guy is a freak. He sulks all the time and is incredibly secretive. He could be planning to kill her for all we know.”
“Oh, shut up,” Vassa snapped. “You’re being ridiculous.” 
Lucien raised a brow, his hands still on the wheel at ten and two. “What?”
“There’s no need to bash on Azriel because you’re jealous.”
Lucien snorted. “I’m not jealous.”
“Aren’t you?” Vassa yelled, and Lucien flinched at her volume. “That’s bullshit, Lu! You’re still hung up over this girl that you barely know. You’re the one sulking! You’re so bummed that you’re not going to the dance with her. Well, guess what, Lu? You’re not going to the dance with her. You’re going with me.”
Lucien pulled his car into the school parking lot. “You say that likes it’s a bad thi-”
“It is a bad thing!” Vassa tossed her hands in the air, the straps of her pine-green dress sliding up her shoulders as she did so. “At least, you seem to think it is.”
Lucien pulled into a spot near the back of the parking lot and put the car in park. “What is your deal?”
“My deal?” Vassa scoffed. “My deal is that I have spent four years picking up the pieces of your heart every time some random girl has stomped all over it. And it’s been pointless, Lu, because the girl you should have been with all this time is me.”
Lucien looked at her for the first time since they entered the parking lot, his eyes widening. “What?”
“This was a mistake,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I was so stupid for asking you to the dance and actually thinking you would want to go with me. I’m wasting my time.”
“Vassa –“ he began.
But she had already thrown open her door. “Have fun, Lucien. I’ll see you Monday.”
“You’re being ridiculous!” he said, trying to grab her wrist, but she quickly snatched it away.
“I’m being real,” she said, wistfully, embarrassed that tears were shining in her eyes. She swung her legs out of the door and brushed down her dress as she rose onto the pavement. “I’m so stupid. I’ve been chasing you for years and you are so obviously not into me. Stupid. So, so stupid.”
“Vass –“
She slammed the door, and by the time Lucien was out of the car, she was walking away.
“Can’t we just talk for a minute?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern.
“I’m done talking, Lucien,” she said, barely looking back over her shoulder. “I’m done talking. I’m done hoping. I’m done trying. I just…..need some time to myself, okay?”
She was embarrassed. She was mortified. The last thing she needed was to see the pity written plainly across his face.
She was going home, and she was going to slip out of her ridiculous dress, and wipe off her make-up, and get into her pajamas. Then, she was going to watch a movie that would surely make her cry, and lie awake staring at the ceiling until she no longer felt like an idiot for throwing herself out there to a guy who didn’t see her in the same light that she saw him.
Lucien called her name until she was so far away that she could no longer hear his broken voice.
Mor had picked up Cassian in her Volkswagen, and they had dropped Alana off with Reina, Rhysand’s mother.
“Okay,” Mor said, as she pulled out of the Lunasa’s driveway and headed toward the school. “Answers. Now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cut the bullshit,” she rolled her eyes. “Your sister called me this morning and asked me why you weren’t taking Nesta to the dance. Nesta, who was at your house. Nesta, who was in your bed, wearing your clothes. Nesta, who is in charge of you in detention –“
“Okay, okay!” He interrupted, rolling up the sleeves of his crimson button-down. “You can stop. Remind me to hide my phone from Lana.”
“No, I should be reminding you to make better choices.”
“She’s only a year older than me. And she’s different, Mor. She’s not…..Never mind.”
Cassian was frustrated. She wouldn’t understand. She wouldn’t get it. People saw Nesta in a certain light, but it was all just a show on her part. A defense mechanism. She would rather people hate her or feel nothing than feel anything remotely human toward her. 
“No, continue,” Mor ordered. “Because you are walking dangerous territory and I want to know why.”
Cassian looked out the window, at the cloudless sky they were driving under. The weather was perfect, the sun shining, the temperature warm but not too hot. Autumn had reached Velaris. Soon, the leaves would be changing colors and falling to the ground. It was Cassian’s favorite time of year.
“Are you listening to me?” she snapped.
“Yup,” he said. “And I am choosing not to answer.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“So are you.”
They fell into a silence that made Cassian’s head pound. They had known each other for a long time, and although they used to date, in what seemed like a different lifetime, Cassian knew she wasn’t speaking from jealousy. Worry, maybe, but not jealousy.
“She makes me feel better than I am,” he said, at last. “Not because she sees me for better, but because she doesn’t care about my faults. She’s seen everything I have to offer, Mor, and she still looks at me like….” Mor waited, her lips thin, as he grasped for the word. “Like I’m an actual person, not a poor kid with no money, no family, and nothing to show for my life.”
All the tension in Mor’s features faded as she stopped at a red light and looked at him, pensively. “Is that how you see yourself?”
Cassian shrugged. “Some days.”
“Why?” she asked, quietly, as she began to drive again.
Cassian ran a hand through his lose hair. “My mom may as well be dead, so I won’t even go there. My dad left before I could memorize his face. I’ve taken care of my sister since I was thirteen and I’ve done a shit job at that. Shit, Mor, she’s swearing and telling people that I’m up all night kissing women, for the Mother’s sake. She has no idea what it’s like to have a real family. She has no idea what it’s like to sit down with her family and eat a proper dinner. She has no idea –“
He stopped himself. Partly because he could go on and on for hours about how he had done that little girl wrong, and partly because his voice was breaking.
Mor reached across the middle seat of her ancient Volkswagen and put her hand on top of his. “Your mother is shit. So is your father. But Alana looks at you, Cass, and sees the world. She sees the boy who had to become a man when he was still a child and raise her, and she loves you more than anyone else in the world. She doesn’t look at you and see everything she does not have, Cass. She looks at you and sees a good life with a brother who would do anything for her. She is smart, and kind, and confident, and she is that way because of you. So, you can say your parents are shit, because I agree. But, you can’t say that you’ve done a shit job at raising Alana, because you have done an amazing job.”
He nodded, still looking out the window, and tightened his hand on hers.
Then, Mor said, “As for Nesta…..is she worth it? The hiding? The risk? She could get fired, Cass. And it’s not like people look favorably upon students who sleep with faculty. What if it got around to the schools you’ve applied for? The scouts?” 
Cassian looked at her then, as they pulled into the school parking lot, and intertwined his fingers with hers. “Yeah, she is.”
Mor shook her head, a small smile forming on her lips. “You love her.”
“No one said anything about love.”
“You do, though,” she chuckled. “Out of all the people in the world, you fall for the ice queen of detention. Just be careful, okay?”
Cassian said nothing, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across face.
Because there was a lot of things he could be with Nesta Archeron, and careful was not one of them.
Homecoming was in full swing when Azriel and Elain walked into the gymnasium.
Streamers were hung, in blue and black and gold, and there were way too many balloons for Azriel’s taste.
Elain was nervous, he could tell, but nowhere near as nervous as he was. The last time he had dated anyone was Ianthe, if that could even be considered dating. It was more like a one night stand, one that he tried to dwell on as little as possible, although he had a baby with the woman.
He glanced at Elain as he held out his arm, and she humbly took it.
He wondered what she would think when she found out he was a father and how he was going to tell her the news. 
“Are you having fun?” he asked, then wasn’t sure why. They had just gotten there, and the ride was awkward as hell.
But, she nodded, smiling gently. “Of course, I am. Want to dance?”
Azriel cursed inwardly. He sucked at dancing. Maybe it wasn’t even that he was bad at it, but that he hated it in general. It made him feel uncomfortable. “Sure.”
They walked into the crowd of students, and Azriel figured that there were so many people, maybe he would even look impressive in the midst of them.
He was wrong.
“I’m sorry,” he shouted, five minutes later, above the fast-paced music. “I’m horrible at this!”
She giggled, and moved closer to him. “I think you’re doing great!”
Elain brushed her fingers along his arm making his stomach do something he couldn’t quite comprehend. “I’m really glad you asked me!”
“I was terrified as shit!” he shouted back, realizing he was on a roll with saying pathetic, ridiculous things.
“What?” she yelled. “I can’t hear you!” 
“Never mind!” He quietly thanked the loud music for erasing his last statement. “You look beautiful!”
The song ended as soon as he spoke, and the crowd around him turned to look as his ears turned pink.
Elain bit her bottom lip as she smiled, then replied in her normal voice, “Thank you. You like quite handsome yourself.”
“Thanks,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, I’m really nervous. I don’t do this often.”
“Dance?”
“Well, yeah. Dance, and ask beautiful girls to said dance. Not just any beautiful girl, either.” He stopped before he could say something stupid, and held out his hand as a slow song began.
She gladly accepted it.
He pulled her close to his body, but not so close that she would feel uncomfortable. He pulled her close, but kept her at a healthy distance. He thought. He hoped.
He cleared his throat, his chin almost touching her forehead. “Is this okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Okay.”
The song played quietly as they swayed back and forth, Azriel’s hands on her hips. Her fingers were brushing his neck, right above his collar, gently. He was sure he was going to mess it up. He didn’t know how, but things were simply going too perfectly.
She laid her head on his shoulder and he stopped for a moment from utter surprise.
She noticed, and giggled as his hands tightened around her waist.
It was going to be a good night.
Mor and Cassian were slow dancing when she caught Andi’s eye.
She was standing with a group of friends, and waved at Mor, mouthing, You look beautiful.
Mor grinned, swinging Cassian around so that his back was to her. Thank you. You too.
“Who the hell are you talking to?” Cassian muttered into her ear. “If you’re seeing people who aren’t really there, we should really get you some help.”
Mor rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
Cassian peeked over his shoulder to sneak a peek of her conversationalist, and she stomped on his toe. Cassian, in typical Cassian fashion, cursed obscenely.
“Sorry, I’m a bad dancer.”
“Mor, you took dance for ten years, you are not a bad dancer.”
Mor looked at him pointedly, and he stared back in the same way.
“You’re acting weird,” he continued.
The tension faded from Mor’s shoulders, and she swung Cassian around so that her back was to Andromache and her friends.
Cassian blinked. “Who the hell am I supposed to be looking at?”
“White dress. One o’clock.”
Cassian blinked, again. “Andi?”
“Yes.”
“You were talking to Andi?”
“Yes.”
“Flirting? You were flirting with Andi?”
“Yes.”
Cassian looked down at her then and flicked back her hair, which Mor reached up and quickly brought back over her shoulder. “Shit, I knew I saw a hickey earlier.”
“Will you keep your voice down?” Mor hissed, making sure her hair was put back the way it was, continuing to sway back and forth with Cassian as memories from the night before flew though her mind.
Her and Andi, sitting by the bank of the river, kissing until her lips turned red and puffy. 
Cassian grinned. “You and Andromache. You two are, like, a thing, then?”
Mor shrugged, looking away from him. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess, we are.”
“Does she make you happy?” he asked, genuinely curious.
Mor arched a brow, looking back up at him. “Huh?”
“Andi. When you’re together. Does she make you happy?”
Mor smiled, sadly. “Yeah, she does.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?” Cassian asked, into her ear. To anyone else, it would have just looked like a romantic  gesture between a couple. He placed his hand just above the small of her back - a hand of safety, of comfort. “Does she treat you right?”
“Of course,” Mor laughed. “It’s Andi. She’s, like, known as one of the nicest people in the school.”
“Yeah,” Cassian agreed, “but people like Eris, too.”
Mor nodded. He had a right to be concerned. She knew he would be, too, no matter who she started dating after her relationship with Eris had ended.
Dating. She was dating Andromache.
“She’s amazing,” was all Mor said.
Cassian smiled, and she could feel it forming on his lips as they brushed along the top of her ear. “Then what the hell are you doing here with me?”
“You asked me.”
“So? Rejection is good for my ego.”
Mor chuckled. “I guess.”
But what would people think? Would they care? What if they did? Gods, Mor, why does it matter?
As if he could sense her thoughts, and he probably could judging from how long they had known each other, he said, “Your friends are all that matter, Morrigan. And we just want you to be happy, and find someone who treats you like you deserve to be treated. We don’t give a damn who it is.” 
Mor knew it was ridiculous, but her eyes began to swell up with tears. “Cass –“
“I’m gonna go,” he said over the music, leaning back. “I want you to enjoy your night, Mor. Go be with who you want to be with.”
Mor’s eyes widened. “No! Stay!”
He stopped, looked at Andromache, then back to her. “Not ready?”
Not ready for them to find out? Not ready for everyone to know? But that wasn’t really fair to Andi, to keep her hidden. It wasn’t fair to herself, either.
“No, it’s not that,” she said, and she almost felt confident about it. “I came with you. I want to finish the night with you.”
“It’s okay,” he smiled, and she knew he meant it. “I’ve got a headache, anyway.”
It was a lie, and a weak excuse. When Cassian lied, he always averted his eyes.
Mor shook her head.  “You’re a sucky liar.”
“But a good friend.”
Mor laughed, and fell into his chest, tightening her arms around his waist. “Yes, a very good friend.”
“If you’re not ready, though….I get it. I’ll stay. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you to take a step you’re not ready to take,” he said, in all seriousness, tightening his own arms around her shoulders. “But I know who you would rather share the night with, Mor. I want you to be happy.”
Mor took a minute to think about it as they swayed back and forth to the music. “A headache?”
“Yeah,” Cassian sighed, dramatically. “It’s horrible. It’s all in my eyes….and stuff.”
“If you want to stay –“
“I’ve got other plans. Don’t worry about me.”
“Nesta?”
He gave her a knowing look, but said nothing.
Mor smiled. “Make good choices.”
“Yeah, you too,” Cassian laughed, then took Mor’s hand and walked her to the sidelines.
He stopped by Andromache, and let go of her hand, then winked at Andromache before finding his way out of the gym, hands in his pockets.
“Hi,” Mor said to Andromache.
She looked from Mor, to where Cassian had just walked out, then back to Mor. “What just happened?”
Mor shrugged. “I’m ready to be happy.”
Andromache grinned and reached for her hand. Mor intertwined her fingers with Andi’s.
And for a moment, Mor felt free.
Suddenly, the music abruptly came to a stop.
When Mor turned around toward the DJ booth, the DJ was no longer operating the laptop.
A girl stood there, a girl who Mor hadn’t seen since she had graduated the year before. A girl who she knew a certain someone there wouldn’t want to see.
“Excuse me,” she said into the mic, her long, blonde hair in perfect curls. There was a slight slur to her voice, and Mor concluded there was a solid amount of alcohol running through her system.
“Who is that?” Andromache asked.
Mor shuddered as she replied, “Ianthe.”
Ianthe grinned, her eyes set in the middle the gym. Mor followed her line of vision, and landed directly on a pale-faced Azriel, and a confused Elain.
With clear confidence, and a wicked grin, Ianthe said into the mic, “I’m looking for the father of my child. Have you seen him?”
Silence filled the gym just as Mor said, “Oh, fuck.”
Mor had driven Cassian to the dance, so once he had left, he was walking.
He’d texted Nesta the moment he left the gym, and now that he was under the night sky stars of Velaris, he felt unstoppable.
He was going to find her, and grab her face, and kiss her mouth, and tell her endless beautiful words until morning came.
He was falling in love with her, and the thought was equally terrifying and wonderful.
But she found him first.
A car slowed down on the road beside him, and a window rolled down.
Nesta smiled from behind the wheel.
He loved it when she smiled. She didn’t do it enough.
“Need a ride?” she asked.
He grinned. “That’d be great.”
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theladyofdeath · 6 years
Text
Friday Night Lights {ACOTAR}
Prologue.
Summary: Inspired by the series Friday Night Lights. In a town that is obsessed with football, a group of teenagers are glorified for what they bring to the field. But what the people of Velaris don’t realize is that there is a lot more to life than football, and it’s not always pretty.
Revolves around Cassian, Nesta, Elain, Lucien, Azriel, Morrigan, Amren, Feyre, and Rhysand. 
*Warning: This fic deals with sensitive material. 
*Note: A chapter will be posted every Wednesday. 
Click here for previous chapters.
Author’s Note: Yay, y’all! It’s finally here. Yes, I did decide to post early. The original start date was January 1, but I’ll be busy for most of that day and I didn’t want to become so busy that I couldn’t post. So, I decided earlier was better than later! I’ve been so hard at work on this fic, and have been so anxious to share it with you. This story is close to my heart, and deals with sensitive material. Someone asked me with Castaway why I write about some of the things I do, and it’s because I have either gone through them myself, or something similar, or I know someone that has. I think it’s important to talk about heavy issues, and I love being able to do that through our favorite literary characters. SO, without further ado, I hope you enjoy Friday Night Lights. 
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“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.” - Edgar Allen Poe
The house was silent as Cassian pushed open the front door, which was already propped open.
“Cass?” Aliana whispered. She knew to stay hushed, she knew how nights like this typically turned out. “What’s wrong?”
Cassian didn’t answer, partly because he didn’t know for certain, and partly because he didn’t want to tell his five-year-old sister what his hunch was. Instead, he picked her up and held her small, fragile frame close to his.
“Cassian,” she whispered, her small voice beginning to tremble. “I’m scared.”
“Shhh,” he mumbled, into her ear. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
The floorboards creaked as Cassian tiptoed across the hardwood floor, and attempted to turn on the lights. They must’ve been late on the electric bill. Again.
“I’m going to put you down,” Cassian said. “Stay right here. I’m going to find a flashlight.”
Aliana nodded as her small, narrow feet hit the ground, and she pressed her back against the wall. She was too young, Cassian thought, to be living this sort of life. Too young, and too innocent. Her body shook in her jean shorts that barely fit around her waist, and the soccer ball t-shirt that was Cassian’s when he was her age.
After an encouraging nod, Cassian found his way through the dark into the kitchen, where he opened the junk drawer and found a small flashlight just as his eyes were beginning to adjust. After hitting it a few times, the light illuminated the small kitchen, and Cassian only took one step back to the living room before halting.
Aliana was no longer in her spot by the front door, but standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking further down the hallway.
Where their mother was lying face-down on the burgundy, shag rug.
Cassian pulled Aliana back a step, away from his mother’s limp form, and connected her eyes with his. In a calming voice he said, “Take this flashlight. Go up to your room. I’ll be there in five minutes to help you get ready for bed. Okay?”
Hesitantly, Aliana took the illuminated flashlight and nodded. “O-Okay.”
He kept his eyes on her as she walked up the stairs, and every time she looked back at him, he gave her a comforting smile. And when she had gone around the corner upstairs, Cassian looked back down to his mother. Her shirt was torn and the smell of whiskey had consumed the narrow hallway, not to Cassian’s surprise. He didn’t want to know what her night had entailed. He didn’t want to know how she had made it back home. He just wanted to toss her in her room, so Aliana didn’t have to wake up to the same sight in the morning.
With a grunt, Cassian lifted his mother’s body into his arms, and gagged as her open mouth fell directly in front of his face. At least she was breathing. That much was good, he supposed.
She didn’t stir, not even a little bit.
He hated that he and Aliana looked just like their mother, with her curly brown hair and hazel eyes. Her skin looked as if it had been permanently kissed by the sun, even in the darkness, as Cassian carried her down the hall to her bedroom.  
As he dropped her in her bed, Cassian didn’t bother tucking his mother in. He had lost respect for her a long time ago, if not during his childhood, then once Aliana had been born.
But he lingered in the doorway, and took one last look at the woman who birthed him, before simply shaking his head and shutting her door gingerly behind him.
  “We don’t even know her!”
“So? She was a friend of mom’s. Besides, I’ve already lived with her for a year. I know her.”
Elain sighed as Feyre and Nesta bickered in the backseat. They were almost to Velaris, just in time for her and Feyre to start their first days at Velaris High, and Nesta to go back to Velaris University for another semester.
They were going to be living with Alis, a friend of their mother’s, until they could get up on their feet without help.
Although, according to Nesta, Alis had said that they could stay as long as they wanted.
Elain and Feyre had never met her before, but living with their father had become too heavy a burden. When Elain had called the month before, telling Nesta that their father had lost their house because of his gambling addiction and her and Feyre couldn’t finish out their final years in high school, because they would have to get a job to help out……Well, Nesta stepped in.
Let me call in a few favors and see what I can do, she had said. Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.
And she had.
Nesta had met Alis through her job at a corner café in the city. Alis kept telling Nesta that she reminded her of someone she used to know, and before they knew it, they had connected the dots.
Alis was a good childhood friend of their mother’s. Nesta and Alis had grown close, so when Elain had called for help, Alis was the first person Nesta had called.
Now Elain and Feyre were moving in with the woman and her two nephews, which was wonderful, except Elain and Feyre had never met her.
Elain trusted Nesta, though, and knew their sister would never put them in a harmful, or unsafe, situation.
Feyre, on the other hand, was harder to convince.
“Fine, Feyre,” Nesta snapped, after their bickering had become too heavy. Elain simply rolled her eyes from behind the wheel. “Then go back with dad. I’m sure the homeless shelter, or wherever the fuck he is, would love to welcome you in, too.”
It was a low blow, but Feyre shut her mouth and turned her gaze to the starry night sky outside of her window.
“Well,” Elain sighed. “At least we can make up on lost bonding time, right?” She caught Nesta’s scowl through the review mirror before shaking her head. “Look, I know this isn’t the most ideal situation,” she began, turning her mirror toward Feyre, “but Nesta got us out of there. And no matter how you feel about this change, it’s better than being with…..being with dad. And Nesta,” she said, turning the mirror back toward her eldest sister, “it wouldn’t kill you to keep in mind how difficult this is for us.”
“For us?” Feyre scoffed, laughing emotionlessly. “You don’t seem to be bothered at all.”
“I lost everything too,” she said, a bite to her sweet voice that shut both of her sisters up. Elain took a deep breath before turning her focus back toward the road ahead. “Look, I’m not…..I’m just trying to ease the tension. Okay? We’ve been through too much lately to be fighting. We need each other now more than ever so just…..please. No more fighting.”
Her two sisters in the back gave her tight nods before silence ensued. 
Elain didn’t know what was going to happen, she had no idea what their futures held.
But she was hoping it would only go up from there.
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