#my au cassian stands up for his mate

[jmoonjones]

my bbs relaxing before nesta week hits

#nesta archeron #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #nessian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #acomaf #acosf #acowar #nesta #in this house we love and respect nesta archeron #my au cassian stands up for his mate #acotar art #acotar fan art #booktok

[azsazz]

Lips of an Angel (Part 4)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the song ‘Lips of an Angel’ by Hinder. Azriel left you for Elain. After finding out that he has a child he didn’t know about, he’s furious.

**Daddy!Az AU**

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1,805

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

_________________________________________

The glass in his hand is empty again, the bottle next to it too. 

Azriel sits at his desk, thinking about everything that has led up to this very moment: nursing the wounds he’d amassed from Rhysand as well as the full liquor bottle that he kept hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk in a secret compartment where Elain would never notice.

His left eye is swollen shut and throbbing. Bruises and cuts litter his body from the brawl he’d had with his High Lord in his office only an hour ago, over his ex and the fact that she’d had a child and never told him about.

The High Lord still packs a pretty good punch, he thinks as he shifts to pull open another drawer. His entire body aches with each movement but the alcohol has made it a touch easier. He’s burned through most of the bottle with his anger, but he could’ve sworn he had shoved another bottle in there somewhere.

Elain hasn’t arrived yet and he hopes that she doesn’t. Hopes that she doesn’t walk into his home with her striking smile and eager aura. Right now what he needs is to be alone. Alone with his thoughts, in the dark, silent and nurturing like they were when he was a child and his father trapped him in the dungeons.

The age his child is now. Wren. His chest aches an insurmountable amount when he thinks of the child, so much like him despite having never met. Eyes so strikingly similar to his own that Azriel knows you think about him everytime you look at your son. With tiny wings to match and the most stoic face he’s ever seen on a child, there was no doubting that Wren was his.

But you hadn’t even denied it when he asked, couldn’t, and that made him all the more angry at himself. That he had pushed you so far away from him, had hurt you so badly that you didn’t even tell him he had a child? That you had gone so far as to tell the High Lord and the rest of his family but not him?

“I deserved to know about my child,” he screamed into Rhysands face. The bellow was followed by a blow to his jaw, his bones reverberating beneath his skin from the force of it. It had been a long time since they’d come to blows like this, not training, but actually fighting. Azriel thinks the last time they’d had a real argument that had led to injuring each other like this was when they were still learning in the camps and Cassian and Rhysand had teased him, pushed him to his brink before accepting him into their found family.

“And you could have,” Rhys spits back, the utter fury in his voice shaking the paintings on the walls. The High Lord’s power had unleashed then, slamming Azriel back into the wall. His head crashed into the plaster with a harsh thunk and when he blinked the spots from his vision Rhysand was already pouncing towards him, ringed-fist raised. “We all put it together before you ever made a move on Elain. The signs were right there! Think about it! They were right in front of your fucking face and you didn’t even care.”

“Gods,” Azriel groans. He’s been leaning over his chair for far too long and the broken rib his brother had given him makes it hard to breathe.

But Rhysand had been right, all of the signs were there, he was just too infatuated with finding a mate that he overlooked them.

When you’d started having dizzy spells and he’d passed it off as you not drinking enough water, or when you’d told him you missed your cycle, he remembers that like it was yesterday and curses himself for being so dimwitted. 

All of the times you’d tried to cuddle up to him or kissed him just the way he liked but he still pushed you away because it had felt wrong to kiss you back when Elain was standing right over there. He was so busy chasing after Feyre’s middle sister that he didn’t notice your scent shifting, thinking you were coming down with a sickness that would keep you in bed for a day or two so he could have some time with Elain and didn’t have to worry about you finding out.

It was all right fucking there, and he hadn’t been able to see it.

Even when he’d come home to find you sitting in the guest room one night. The door had been cracked open and you’d been sitting on the edge of the bed looking around the room with a look on your face he hadn’t even cared to decipher, but he remembers it now. It was awe, excitement as you clutched your belly, probably thinking to yourself how exciting it was going to be to decorate a room for the babe growing in your belly. But all Azriel had done was pass it off as you starting to realize the distance he was forcing between the both of you and maybe you had decided to sleep in there that night instead of the room you shared.

There is no denying that he’s fucked up. Fucked up to the point of never finding love again. He realizes in this moment how badly he’s treated you, treated the little boy that dons his face and doesn’t even know him. Wren already thinks that Malik is his father, and with the way that the fae male looks Azriel can’t blame him. While you clearly had a type, your current boyfriend doesn’t seem to be as broody or cruel to you as he’d been.

Azriel sighs, saddened by the lack of alcohol he’s hidden in his desk, and sits in self-pity instead.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Azriel wipes his hands on his pants because truly, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

Sitting across the table from you, Malik, and Rhysand was not something he’d ever thought he’d be doing. Let alone being in the same room as you again.

And fuck, you’re as gorgeous as he remembers, even with the guarded way you’re sitting, arms crossed over your chest and your mouth set into a firm line as you stare him down like it’s not fucking burning you up to see him as much as it is for him to see you. 

Rhysand looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. They’ve both healed up due to the nature of their fae healing, but his brother’s glare makes Azriel want to allow the shadows curling around his ankles to shroud him behind their blackness.

And Malik. Malik is here, with his arm around the back of your chair. He’s slid his own closer to yours for comfort, and even the cheerful male he’d seen with his son doesn’t seem so joyful right now. His straight brows are drawn and he keeps glancing over at you in concern. 

Azriel can’t even find it in himself to hate the male. The one who’s taken care of you, of his son all of these years he’d been so oblivious. He wants to hate him with the fires of a thousand autumn fires, but, after the way that he’s treated you, he can’t help but to feel a little bit grateful for the male.

Wren hadn’t joined you, of course not. Feyre had taken him and Nyx down into the Rainbow for an afternoon art class followed by the most ice cream they could even imagine. Normally, you wouldn’t allow Wren so many sweets, but he’s been more than stressed lately with the information of seeing his birth father, and you’ve been trying to help him work through his own feelings on the matter.

Feyre even helped place Wren into an art therapy course with one of her good friends. Everett owns the studio next door and you’ve heard nothing but the best about the therapist. She’s been a light in Wren’s life as of late, and he seems to be responding well to the therapy. So well that he’s mentioned he might be open to meeting Azriel one day.

Today is not that day.

He doesn’t know what to say. His throat is clogged with years worth of emotions. Azriel prides himself on his cool, calm exterior, but right now, there’s none of that front on display. His palms are slick with sweat, leg jerking up and down to try and dispel some of the anxiety wracking his body. It’s no use at all.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he starts, and it’s more than a little awkward. He watches you and Rhysand share a glance and deflates in his chair. He’s more than a fucking prick.

“I’m not doing it for you,” you start, and he’s never heard your voice so cold. “I’m doing this for Wren.”

Azriel looks up at the sound of his son’s voice. There’s a hopeful note in his golden eyes that you don’t want to diminish, even if there’s still a sting as you’re reminded when his eyes had lit up like that at the sight of you. Your hands fall from where they’re crossed across your chest as the dread settles in, and you can’t seem to fight the tingling of your sinuses. You don’t love him anymore, but seeing him so often after years spent apart brings the feelings of everything he had done right back. 

Sensing your shifting emotions, Malik drops his hand from the back of your chair to your lap, threading his fingers through yours. Azriel’s shadows relay the way that you cling to his hand tightly, and he shifts in his seat.

He watches the way that your eyes go glossy, unfocusing from his and he knows that Rhysand is speaking to you, mind-to-mind. Azriel is sure that his brother is doing his best to reassure you, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. It should have been him reassuring you. It should have been him by your side all of this time.

Just the thought of Elain pains him. Everything that he has fucking done to you because he thought that he wanted her plays over and over and over again in his head. He will never forgive himself for any of this, but the road to making things up to you, up to his son, starts now.

Rhysand takes the reins of the conversation, and Azriel doesn’t like the way that he’s looking at him like any one of his courtiers, hands folded together as they sit on the table. 

He’s even wearing his crown.

“Wren has decided that he wants to meet you. Properly, this time.”

The floor falls out from under Azriel’s chair.

#azriel acotar #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel angst #lips of an angel

[prythianpages]

🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ imagines inspired by ABBA songs ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧

rainbow divider is by @cafekitsune! I really just wanted an excuse to make a little disco edit so I made this masterlist. There might be more songs added to this if I get new ideas/inspirations. If you have any suggestions for them or would like to talk about any one of them, feel free to send an ask my way ❤

•¨•.¸¸♪ Lay All Your Love On Me | Cassian

summary: Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends don’t get jealous. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. But you did.

•¨•.¸¸♪ When I Kissed the Teacher | Cas's version

summary: After weeks of shameless flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.

•¨•.¸¸♪ I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel

summary: After centuries of waiting, Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate. (this is kinda inspired by Alice & Jasper from twilight.)

•¨•.¸¸♪ Slipping Through My Fingers | Azriel

summary: it's your baby girl's first day of school and Azriel isn't ready to let her go. *this is based on my Az x Witch reader au but can be read as a stand alone.

•¨•.¸¸♪ When I Kissed The Teacher | Az's version

summary: After crushing on Azriel for weeks, Nesta dares you to kiss him during Valkyrie training.

•¨•.¸¸♪ A Man After Midnight | Eris

summary: though engaged to Sawyer Vanserra, you feel utterly and completely alone with only the company of autumn winds, blowing outside your window. that is, until, Eris shows up. Your man after midnight.

•¨•.¸¸♪ 'Cause Somewhere in The Crowd There's You | Lucien

summary:When Tamlin sends Lucien to the Night Court as his emisssary, he stumbles upon a nightclub and finds himself captivated by you. His sweet nightingale.

WIPs

These are in no particular order. I am currently focusing on Rhys's & Cas's next.

•¨•.¸¸♪Sing a New Song, Chiquitita | Rhys's Sis x Azriel (ACOSM AU)

summary: your big brother comforts you after a fight with Azriel.

•¨•.¸¸♪ Can't You Hear Me, S.O.S? | Rhysand

summary: You and Rhysand, your childhood bestfriend, make a promise to each other when teenagers. If you two don't find someone by your 300th birthday, you will marry each other instead. Too bad for Rhysand that you get proposed to just before your birthday.

•¨•.¸¸♪ Honey, Honey | Cassian

summary: Hate. Desire. Anger. You make Cassian feel all of the above but when Azriel assigns him to accompany you on a mission, he finds something even more dangerous. A burning crush on you.

•¨•.¸¸♪ The Winner Takes it All | Lucien

#acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar series #acotar x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #eris x reader #lucien x reader #rhysand x you #azriel x you #cassian x you #eris x you #lucien x you #abba x acotar

[ellievickstar]

Between Two worlds (Discontinued)

A/N: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS. Okay so basically my debut of my series: Between two worlds, where I make a series with a love triangle where it is between my two biggest characters: (I'm not gonna spoil the character read the fic to find out) and Azriel. I hope you guys enjoy!!! PS. nothing much really happens yet, but I am doing a time skip for the second chapter after this, this chapter is more so that you understand the AU.

Summary: After fifty years of being under Amarantha's reign, you finally reunite with your brother, can have a leisure day with a friend, and secretly meet up with an old enemy.

Request: N/A

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, -find out later- x reader

Warnings: This is a build up to a love triangle. More of a AU building chapter. Also mentions of abuse, sexual assault and harassment. Weapons.

Between Two Worlds / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (coming soon)

~*~*~*~*~

“She's my mate! She's my mate!” Rhys exclaimed as he suddenly winnowed in front of you. You nearly jumped back in shock as you began to process what was happening. “Firstly, welcome back, it's been fifty years. Secondly, who?” You asked patiently as Rhys breathed heavily, keeling over on his knees as magic seemed to burst out of him, causing you to take a step back. Mor bent down as she checked Rhys's condition to make sure he was not delusional.

Eventually your brother managed to get off the floor with the help of Azriel and Cassian and explained everything. Feyre, how Amarantha was dead, how he had had his visions. When he finally finished you didn't know whether you were surprised…or relieved. To be honest, you sort of expected that your brother would get into some sort of shit during the fifty years he was in captivity.

However, after everyone else left you lingered for a moment, sensing that your brother was holding something else back. He met your eyes as his shoulders slumped, and you approached slowly as you sat on his bed next to him. He brought you closer using his wings as you sat next to each other in silence. You smiled at the memories it brought back.

“I know you're not telling me something. You have the same expression from when you came home after father died,” You said softly, Rhys hummed as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. At first, you thought that he wouldn't answer your question but a soft knock on your mental shields spoke what hadn't been said. You show me mine, I'll show you yours.

And so you did. You know that showing him the effects of the curse wouldn't help his probably festering guilt, but you knew that you couldn't hide from him. You only had each other, it would do more harm than good if you didn't confide in each other. Rhys took the guilt of letting you follow him to that party all those years ago, and as a warning to him, Amarantha had placed a curse on you which forced you to live through your worst years of struggles. The times you were in the Illyrian camps as a female, the times your father berated you for defending yourself with magic and had you hung and whipped. Rhys made a strangled noise.

When he finally showed you his memories, you were aghast as you wanted to throw up. This…this felt worse than the time you were harassed at the Illyrian camps. At the time Azriel and Cassian had come to save you, but this? You were nauseous. Desperately, you flung yourself against your brother as he let a stray tear fall. “I am here with you,” You said. The phrase was sacred, it showed how you would always stand by his side no matter who or what opposed him, you would be there fighting for him, with him. And you knew he would do the same for you too.

You both stayed like that for a while, staying in each other's comforting and ever-loving embrace. Making a joke about how he had been so desperate to spend time with his mate he made a bargain to kidnap her once a month. It was then that he nearly elbowed you in the ribs and you ran off squealing while he pretended to chase you.

Crashing into a wall of muscle, you hid behind the looming shadow singer who seemed to be in shock as he raised the blade he was polishing away from your head. “Az save me!” You shouted as you clung to the spymaster, he politely smiled at Rhys as he pretended to 'guard' you. Rhys scoffed, muttering something about favouritism as you stuck your tongue out at him. After a while, he sighed and went to find Mor, mumbling to himself about a less biassed family.

Azriel turned to face you, eyebrows raised as you shrugged and perched yourself onto a stool next to him, picking up a bloody dagger, wanting to help police and sharpen the various weapons to pass time, however, Ariel tutted as he set down the dagger in his hand, “You’ll hurt yourself, and I don’t need Rhys coming after me for letting you play with a knife, sweetheart.”

You scoffed as you snatched the dagger back up. “Rhys can go to hell if he thinks he can control any aspect of my life,” Azriel just smiled in return. You had a good friendship with Az, after all, when the three of them were younger he was the one who hung out with you the most after finishing all the daily training. Cassian was busy training even more, and Rhys was off doing whatever royal duties he had to attend to. Azriel was also the same person who first taught you how to fly, seeing as the camp you went to refused to see as you were a female. Devlon was a bastard then and he’s a bastard now. Or so Azriel says. On top of all that, Azriel also trained your combat skills - in which he will always hold over your head because you have only ever beaten him once at a fight - and he also taught you how to read.

Yes. Funny enough, Azriel had taught you how to read after Keir had deliberately said that you should focus less on books and more on looking pretty and being good enough to marry off. Your father promised to teach you eventually, but Azriel thought it would be funny to stick it to Mor’s father. He soon regretted it because you eventually loved reading so much that every time he went to visit a small town near the camps, you begged him to bring you back at least one or two new books for your enjoyment. He did use it as leverage from time to time during training, so eventually it worked out.

“So, any good books you’ve read recently? Or is it just the usual book porn,” Azriel teased as he set to work on a sword. You groaned inwardly and would have slumped over the table if you weren’t holding a blade. “It was one time that you caught me reading that Az, and besides, it’s ROMANCE books. Anyways, yes I have read a good book recently, but I doubt you would bear any interest,” You replied.

Smirking at you, he motioned for you to continue, the bastard knew you were aching to tell him every single detail of the book, probably suspected that you were about to attack someone with a rant. As you went on about the newest fantasy read, he chimed in with a few remarks here and there, and eventually it just turned into a whole session with both of you debasing every single thing that was wrong with the male lead in the book. Well, the second male lead.

“You don’t understand Azriel, he was so hot! And the grovelling!” You squealed as you recalled how the two leads had finally reconciled after a horrible mistake. It seems like you were more interested in the romance than the actual plot of the high fantasy novel. “Must have been nice,” Azriel hummed as he finished the last dagger. Wait- the last dagger!? You turned to a clock on the wall as you realised just what time it was in the evening. Oh god, you were late. Jumping from the stool, you quickly excused yourself as you ran towards the open balcony doors that Azriel had left open when you both decided that the room you were in was stuffy.

“I have to meet someone, but please read the novel! Maybe if you read more books you wouldn’t just be a pretty face!” You yelled back, wings springing from your back as they flared and flapped, allowing yourself to take off before Azriel could say anything. And just like that you were off.

~*~*~*~*~

“I am so so sorry I am so late I promise it will never happen again,” Breathing in and out you folded your wings away. The male chuckled as he leaned against a tree, letting out a full on laugh as you fell to your knees from exhaustion from flapping your wings so hard just to get here fast, to meet him.

“Well, if you weren’t so set on leaving if I didn’t show up after 15minutes on our routine time, I wouldn’t have had to rush here!” You hissed. He just grinned down at you and that’s when you realised you were on your knees, looking up at him. Letting out a snarl, you pushed off the ground, standing up and crossing your arms to face him, he just let out a mock look of regret.

“Shame, I thought you were finally tearing me like the High Lord’s son I am,” He teased. You wanted to throw a branch at his face but instead settled for a light burn on his ego. “Well I would respect you if there was anyone to respect, Eris.”

That’s right. Eris Vanserra. The lord of the Autumn Court was smiling down at you and exchanging insults with you. He clenched his heart at your words. “You wound me, little flame, how can I ever recover?” You folded at the old nickname, flinging yourself at Eris as you jumped up and hugged him. Fifty years since you last saw your old friend. Fifty years. And you missed him dearly.

When Mor had been found by Azriel, she relayed the events that happened and you had been furious, and as it had just happened to be, you father was taking you and your brother on a little trip to the Autumn Court to show you both everything, however, as Rhys was now to enraged to go, you needed to go alone. Eventually your father and Beron had left you and Eris in a room together to ‘bond’ while they really discussed matters between courts, and you had grabbed that opportunity like your life depended on it and lunged at Eris, as you were quite small compared to him, he tackled you easily and growled at you to stop being a child.

You had demanded an explanation from him and he had given one, explaining how his father was physically, emotionally, mentally and verbally abusive, and if he hadn’t left Mor to die, he would have subjected her to a life just like his mother’s. And he would never knowingly do that to anyone. Being the open-minded person and amazing you were, you heard him out. However, till this day you prompted him to finally put down his pride and apologise for the way he did things, sure it came from good intentions, but it was still flawed. He, of course, refuses, and you don’t want to push the matter.

“So, any updates about the ‘how-to-kill-your-father’ plan? Or have you just been sitting around these fifty years?” He smirked at your words, laughing as you sat down, your legs being extremely tired for absolutely no other reason than standing for the short period of time you had. Quickly joining you on the floor, he spoke about the events that happened on his side before you shared yours.

“Amarantha is a bitch,” You muttered, “True that,” He agreed, raising a fist as if in solidarity. Humming, you leaned against the tree behind you, Eris doing the same as you both sat shoulder to shoulder, while Eris fiddled with the ends of your hair, you played with the various rings on his finger, slipping them on and off and turning them around in your hand.

When you reached his middle finger, you pulled off the ring. It was simple gold band had small carvings that decorated the entire ring, some even had small diamonds that tied the ring together nicely, but the carving that really caught your eye was the fox.

“My mother had that crafted and made for me when I was young. Every carving is something special and unique to only this ring,” He explained. You made a small noise of amazement as you tuned it over in your hand again, “I love it, it’s so pretty,” You admitted. Smiling down at you, he seemed to think for a moment before removing one of the various chains around his neck, and handing it to you as well. “Keep them both, just promise me you’ll wear it,” Stunned, you tried to give the chain and the ring back but he refused, claiming that he wanted you to have it.

The chain was obviously so you could wear the ring as a necklace seeing as it was far too large for any of your fingers. With Eris’s help, you put it on and he grinned, smirking about how you looked absolutely dazzling with your new accessory and you should thank him that you can look so utterly divine.

You slapped his shoulder, which honestly probably hurt you more than it did him.

It was at this point that you both finally parted, him winnowing away but not before he hugged you and murmured his goodbye as he rested his head on top of yours. And as you felt blood rush to your cheeks, he was gone. As if he was never there, the only proof of your meeting was the ring that now hung around your neck.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: SO!? What do you think :D I'm curious about feedback. Also some additional warnings about this series is that there will be angst, it would not be me without angst. There will be A LOT of angst. ALSO AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS ERIS WOULD BE A BIG RING-WEARER!??

taglist: @positivewitch

#acotar #acosf #acotar fandom #a court of silver flames #azriel shadowsinger #a court of mist and fury #azriel #rhysand #eris vanserra x reader #azriel x reader #eris vanserra #eris x reader

[litnerdwrites]

Justice for Nesta recs (AO3)

Most, if not all, of these recs are in the Justice for Nesta/ ACOSF rewrite/fix-it vein. It will be updates as I find more fics, but feel free to send any recs you have.

TRIGGER WARNING! Many of these fics will be very dark, with references to suicide, ptsd, misogyny, and IC BS. However, I'll be sure to add specifics where applicable.

Fics For Those Craving Nesta JusticeI put all the fics I found into one collection on AO3 that, as the title suggests, are for those craving Nesta Justice. Please read the relevant tags for each fic, as many of them contain reference to PTSD, SA (both past referenced and in story), and general IC BS.

I'll also list every fic in this collection bellow, just to keep them all in one place. Feel free to also add your own finds or works if you have any. The collection is open, but moderated.

Those the Stars Cannot Hear by @kataraavatara An ACOSF rewrite where Mor makes good on her threat to leave Nesta in the CON.

Baby, now we got bad blood by Pumpkinspice_Lou They say you should never come between a male and his mate. Rhysand should've known better. Aka Cassian finally choosing Nesta. Completed two-shot.

A Court of Vice and Victors by Wishcamper Acosf rewritten by a therapist. Need I say more? Incomplete.

You Made Her Like That By BookWorm77071 A few days into their Hike from Hell, Nesta is able to form one coherent thought: I don't want to do this anymore. So she stops. Three chapter short story. Completed.

Nesta becomes a baby by Theladyofbloodshed Exactly what the title says. Oneshot.

A Court of Tangled Flames by Theladyofbloodshed A Neris fic where Nesta gets the love story she deserves.

ACOTAR snippet collection by Theladyofbloodshed A collection of Acotar what ifs.

Nesta vs. The Buffer by Theladyofbloodshed After Nesta finally snaps at another 'family' dinner, calling Cassian and Mor out on their shit, she begins to heal and fall in love on her own terms. With a certain shadowsinger. Completed. Nezriel fic. Anti IC but they kind of redeem themselves at the end. Completed.

AU Where We Pretend Acosf Didn't Happen by Theladyofbloodshed An alternative take to ACOSF, starting from post ACOFS. Nesta ends up leaving Velaris, starting herself on a journey of self discovery and healing. TW Beron Vansera, implied/referenced SA, IC being assholes.

Nightmare Dressed Like A Daydream by This_Immortal_Hope Nesta was a wolf. So, much like a wolf, she bided her time, accepting her exile with ice in her and determination in her heart. When she was ready, she tore their Court of Dreams apart with their own hypocrisy. One shot. No ship. Rhysand is thoroughly put in his place. Oneshot.

Second Chances by miryamdev Cassian apologises to Nesta after the HOFAS bonus chapter.

A trick of the light by closet_monster There was nothing condemning about madness or paralyzing fear. Nesta was familiar with both — they seemed to be a recurring theme in both womanhood and life in Hewn. Oneshot. TW Depression, self harm, and implied abuse. Please double check the tags before reading.

Burn for Eternity by rosemai Nesta is defeated and broken down by the words of her sisters and the IC, so she takes matters into her own hands and meets a group on individuals who could give her the help she needs. Incomplete.

Nesta's Truth by grovellingboyfriends After another year of leaving Nesta alone, Cassian finds Nesta in her apartment on Solstice, standing over a dead man. TW for implied SA, parental abuse, Elain is a bitch. 3/5 chapters published as of making this post.

Daylight by Flowerflamestar Nesta Archeron, banished and betrayed, ran from cold and hatred straight into the light of Day and found a place where she could belong. Completed.

Might I Suggest You Don't Fuck With My Sis by MacabreGiggles The intervention rethought, where the Archeron sisters decide to stand up for one another and put the IC in their place. Incomplete.

I died. I will die. It's alright. I don't mind. By MacabreGiggles Nesta resorts to other means to cope, like drugs. Incomplete. TW. Abuse. Alcolism. Suicide. Sexual assault. Drug abuse.

The Veil of Silence by Hrizantemy There exists a veil of silence, it shrouds our voices masking our truths, muffling our cries, our voices are muted, and dreams whispered. Incomplete.

You're a crisis of my faith by porque_nolosdos Nesta and Elain leave the NC, and upon seeing the IC's reaction, Feyre decides to ditch them too. Incomplete.

A thousand cuts by adelindschade It finally clicks for Cassian just how badly Nesta was hurting (it only took three TW suicide TW attempts), so he decides to try thinking of what Nesta would want. This decision leaves a ripple effect that will change the NC as we know it. Incomplete.

The consequences of normality by TheTeaQueen After the events of ACOSF, things seem relatively normal. Until Cassian realises that Nesta doesn't ask for things, or that self hatred still grips her, or the facade she puts on for her family. When she starts cutting back on training and work in the library, he begins to worry. Maybe things aren't as perfect as he thought. Maybe their methods in helping her weren't as effective as he thought. Incomplete.

Three little words by TheTeaQueen Cassian finally says those three little words that Nesta needed to hear. Oneshot.

Like fire, she raged by TheTeaQueen Emerie stands up for Nesta and puts Rhys and Feyre in their place. Completed.

Of Death and Resurrection by TheTeaQueen Part 1 of In the name of healing and happiness. Nesta was ready to die. So to save Feyre and Nyx, she did. Can Rhysand, the only person who can save her, bring her back from the brink? Completed. TW Implied suicide, rape/sa, anti Elain.

Of Shadows and Light by TheTeaQueen Part 2 of In the name of healing and happiness. Technically more of a Gwynriel fic, but does have some Nessian since it follows the aftermath of Of death and Resurrection, only Azriel, Gwyn & Elain are the main focus. Ties up a lose thread or two from part 1, and is 100% Anti Elain. Completed. TW Implied child abuse, implied suicide, torture.

Of Reopened Wounds and Retribution by TheTeaQueen Part 3 of In the name of healing and happiness. A trip to the human lands to discuss the treaty leads Nesta to face Thomas Mandray again. This time, she has family willing to go to hell and back for her. Incomplete. TW Implied rape/sa, panic attack.

Lady Death and Her Kingdom by TheTeaQueen Amren pushes Nesta too far, causing her to awaken a strange new power. TW Implied child abuse. Incomplete.

The Hike, Alternatively by TheTeaQueen An alternative take on The Hike from Hell, where Nesta attempt to TW commit suicide TW, and Cassian realises just how messed up their methods, and the events leading up to the hike are. Written for Suicide prevention month. Completed. TW Self harm, suicide, The Hike.

To Pay a Debt by TheTeaQueen When Nesta sees that Feyre didn't include her in any of the paintings, she does the only thing she can think of; Run. Incomplete. TW, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, mentioned sa.

Burning from the Inside out by TheTeaQueen An au where Nesta's secretly lived with Chronic pain her whole life, only for the cauldron and her new powers to exacerbate it. Complete. TW Implied/referenced child abuse, suicidal thoughts, ableism, internalised ableism.

The Whole Truth by TheTeaQueen An alternative take where Nesta's deepest secret comes to light when Elain explodes at the dinner table one night. This forces the IC and her sisters to reevaluate their perception of her. Incomplete. TW: Child abuse, suicidal thoughts/ideation, forced prostitution, sexual assault (underage!!)

Set my Soul Alight by moodymelanist Nesta finds solace in Autumn. No Nessian. Completed. TW Implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced rape, implied/referenced torture.

Falling by becauseofreading Another take on what happens after Cassian tells Nesta that everybody hates her. Incomplete. TW Self harm, suicidal thoughts, blood and injuries.

Destruction and Renewal by Vorbi Nesta is given the opportunity to form new alliances. Initially, she scoffs at the idea, but after a small, final act of disrespect from the IC, she decides to see where this new path leads us. Incomplete. TW Implied/referenced abuse.

No One Likes A Mad Woman by Separatist_Apologist You made her like that. Nesta has had her choices tripped away, so when Eris offers her an out, she takes it. No happy ending for Cassian. The Night Court gets no sympathy. Completed. TW Domestic violence

A Cup of Tea by shaziskhalid After realising that the Cassian of her dreams isn't the Cassian she's mated to, everything changed. (MCU! Wanda, modern Au). Incomplete.

Promise by Daughterofthesea Begins during that scene where Cassian follows Nesta, and ends with him understanding just how much pain she's in, and deciding to actually help her.

Stay here (I love you, but I need another year) by littleplease Nesta is tired, and losing the will to even try. Complete. TW Apathy, depression, vuage suicidal thoughts.

What you did to me (I'll spend my life trying to rise) by filthymouthedslut Nesta is done with the IC's holier-than-thou attitude. No ship. Incomplete (3/4) as of updating this post.

Everybody hates you by Booksandsushi A different take on the time Cassian tells Nesta that Everybody hates her. Incomplete.

Change is good by Booksandsushi Nesta figures her life out on her own. Complete.

Truth of the Heart By TheFreakPanda The months after ACOFAS leave Nesta presented with some new opportunities. Full of therapy and dancing. Completed.

I've Always Liked to Play with Fire by catalyste After her village is destroyed and family killed by Hybern following Feyre's revenge mission, you wake up healed in the NC. After Lucien leaves you there, you find yourself trapped with Nesta Archeron, who turns out to be an unlikely ally. The two of you plan your escape with the help of Eris Vansera. Polly, Neris/reader, with IC bashing, and dragons. Incomplete.

The relapse by Janes_Melodies Something broke in Nesta when she learned about the results of the vote, knowing it was a tie until Feyre. She was trying for her sisters and for Cassian, yet they still think she's cruel enough to create a whole new trove just to kill them all. For the first time in months, she gave into her desires. Incomplete. TW Alcoholism, Implied/referenced self harm, suicidal thoughts.

You're safe now by annieleonhardtsring Rewrite of the scene where Nesta falls down the stairs, and Azriel stands up for her. Complete.

Love her how she should be loved by julemmaes Cassian overhears his family making some not-so-subtle comments about Nesta, and it pushes him over the edge. So he goes to bat for her, blaming his friends for everything wrong with their relationship with his girlfriend. Modern AU completed.

The Nest World - The Next Life by bat_called_phil ACOSF canon divergence fic that starts with the intervention, but diverts when Nesta takes a stand for herself, and Feyre starts holding Rhys accountable. TW Implied/referenced suicide, Implied/referenced abortion.

A Court of Spite and Isolation by xxTAO Nesta choses the human lands, separated from the IC and the distractions from her trauma, she spirals. Incomplete (4/6) TW Suicidal thoughts, Implied/referenced alcoholism, Suicide attempt.

Come Home by Rhysanoodle Cassian learns how Nesta's been living since she came to Illyria, and which fears haunt her the most. Complete.

#pro nesta #anti inner circle #anti ic #anti acosf #nesta deserves better #pro nesta archeron #anti rhysand #nesta acotar #anti elain #the archeron sisters deserve better #anti rhys #anti amren #anti cassian #anti feyre #anti mor #anti morrigan #fic rec

[achaotichuman]

Hello everyone, I am A Chaotic Human, or Asher, this is my fanatic blog dedicated to Acotar. My pronouns are He/Him/His. My side-blog is @achaotichuman2-0

This account is Pro-Palestine, call for a permanent ceasefire in Palestine. Free the lands that have been occupied for 75+ years.

Most of my posts are my stupid little headcanons for Acotar and my one-shots/fanfictions. I'll also rant quite a bit on here about the general BS in Acotar. If you are a Rhysand stan, do not interact, because this is no Rhysand safe space, though I do write Tamlin/Rhysand, but that is usually in regard to Rhysand and Tamlin having had a past relationship, or I write Rhysand in my honey-eyed fanon version.

If you want some quality Tamlin content, complete with Tamcien, Tamsand, and whatever else you want me to write, this is the place to be. If you have any prompts about Acotar you want me to write, or you just wanna chat, just shoot me an ask or a direct message! Note- Prompts can take anywhere from a month to longer for me to write, sometimes longer, cause work, school, life and stuff.

Works on Ao3-

A Court of Song and Desolation-

The Spring Court is in ruins, and Tamlin lives with the ghostly memories that haunt his broken, forgotten manor. Lucien cannot and will not stand for the idea of leaving him there to rot. After bringing Tamlin to the mortal lands, they begin to unveil a darkness that is targeting the Spring Lord and may rewrite their way of life as they know it.

-Not completed. Set to have 70 chapters. Includes, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Azriel/Eris Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian.

How Nesta Archeron Learned to Trap A Beast-

Nesta leaves the Night Court for the Mortal Lands after they attempt to trap her with the male she loathes. After travelling through Summer, she finds the Spring Court and is determined to make it through to her old home. Tamlin is on the brink of ending it, but when the eldest Archeron sister comes marching through his lands, he finds a new reason to keep going.

-Not completed. Set to have 6 chapters. Includes, Nesta Archeron/Tamlin.

The Dog Days Are Over-

A gift for @shi-daisy for writing the beautiful A Court of Threads & Daises. The Spring festival is upon the Ambrose family. Joy and celebration is in the air, but this festival is a little different to any other. Amarantha is no longer looming on the lands and the people are free to celebrate as they wish, they are no longer weighed down by her sadistic hand, or by a curse. The dog days are over.

-Completed. 1 chapter. Includes the original ships of A Court of Threads and Daises.

A Game Never Worth Playing-

Their mating bond has been ignored for too long and Eris is finally and fully fed up with it. He marches into Spring and demands that Tamlin finally make a decision.

-Completed. 2 chapters. Includes Tamlin/Eris Vanserra.

Melodies In The Dark-

A snippet of what occurred UTM before Feyre came back to save Prythian. Tamlin misses the sun, when he sees Lucien again for the first time in weeks, he realizes his sun was Under the Mountain with him all along.

-Completed. 1 chapter. Includes Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Tamlin/Rhysand.

The One True High Lord

Even after everyone expected Nesta Archeron, the eldest of the Night Court Heirs would take the throne, Feyre Acheron has been chosen by the Cauldron. With her new precarious position, and resistance against women in power in the Night Court, Feyre decides to ask an old friend to turn her male. Now High Lord of the Night Court. Feyre explores the ins and outs of ruling and finds drama waiting for her in the hands of a beautiful stranger.

This was based of Tumblr Prompt but I turned into an AU

-Not completed. Set to have 4 chapter. Includes Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Morrigan, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

Citrus Tears, Sour Souls

I went on an angst kick and uploaded some angsty oneshots to Tumblr, this is them collected on Ao3.

-Not completed. Includes Lucien/Elain Archeron, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Eris Vanserra & The Lady of the Autumn Court.

A Field Of Dahlias

Finally free of the Mountain and Amarantha's grip on the people. The Spring Court is scrambling to get back to normal. With their wedding not far away, Tamlin is struggling to keep his Court from falling into disarray. When he starts to get sick things begin to take a turn for the worse and worser.

When Feyre is taken by the Lord of Night, it doesn't look like anything it can get any worse. With his life experience Tamlin should know that things can always get worse.

-Not completed. Set to have 5 chapters. Includes Feyre Archeron/Tamlin, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Ianthe/Elain Archeron, Nesta Archeron/Eris Vanserra.

Heaven Help A Fool Who Falls In Love

Tamlin mumbled something too quiet for Lucien to catch, the Fox chuckled, and pressed his forehead to Tamlin’s, “What was that, pretty boy?”

Tamlin breathed a laugh, “Pretty boy?”

Lucien bit down on his lip, trying to contain his grin, he was unsuccessful, “Yes, pretty boy.”

“Okay, handsome man.” Tamlin replied.

Tamlin gets sick, and Lucien takes care of him.

-Completed. 1 chapter. Includes Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

Tumblr Oneshots-

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-

Hallow's eve is upon Prythian. But what Court has the best scares? Autumn or Spring. Lucien is the judge and Tamlin is determined to win.

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-

When Tamlin is fighting his magic, and Lucien takes care of him.

Tamlin/Rhysand-

Rhysand pushes Tamlin too far at a ball. Tamlin finally snaps and gives him what he deserves.

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-

Modern!Au, Lucien has a motorcycle, he gives his boyfriend a ride. Tamlin is in love.

Tamlin/Rhysand & Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-

Rhysand is still hung over Tamlin even centuries after their fallout. Lucien isn't letting him anywhere near his High lord.

Tamlin/Rhysand-

Rhysand blames Tamlin, but who's left to blame if Tamlin isn't there?

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra & Elain Archeron/Gwyneth Berdara-

Lucien is drawing further and further away from Elain. Elain wants to know why.

Tamlin/Rhysand-

Tamlin finally gives Rhysand a reality check, so naturally Rhysand does the next logical thing, and attempts to court him.

Tamlin Oneshot-

Tamlin is stuck in a time loop of reliving his life over and over. An old friend comes to lead him into the afterlife. Tamlin finally lets himself go with her.

Tamlin/Rhysand-

Rhysand meets a beautiful female at a ball in the Hewn City. She runs away before he can get her name. He is still in love a year later, and finally meets her again, but who was she really...

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-

Lucien loves reading. He can't anymore because the clicking of his metal eye drives him insane. Tamlin decides to step in and help.

Tamlin & Jesminda

Jesminda is simply trying to enjoy a beautiful day, then, because the Gods apparently hate her, a problem falls from the sky and into her life.

Five times Lucien Vanserra proposed to Tamlin, one time Tamlin said yes

Exactly what the title says, five times Tamlin rejected Lucien's proposal, one time he accepted.

A rewrite of Feyre’s death Under the Mountain.

Feyre awakening from her near death experience in a slightly more realistic manner.

Thunderstorms- Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra

Lucien is afraid of thunderstorms; Tamlin helps him through one. Or Tamcien fluff.

Eris Vanserra

Eris' home has never been a safe place; or Eris Vanserra angst.

The Mother's Least Favourite Son

Elain decides to reject the mating bond, and what Lucien becomes after.

Worthless Man

Tamlin is difficult to understand, even harder to love.

The Last Time He Cried

Finding peace in the after world- A continuation of The Mother's Least Favourite Son, but you do not need to read it to understand this one.

Eris Vanserra

Eris has a not good, very bad, horrible day.

Tamlin Week 2024

This is the list of my oneshots for Tamlin Week 2024, I decided to make them their own section with links to both the Tumblr post and Ao3 work for them!

Day1- Kidnapped By The Faery Queen

Link for Tumblr Post and the Link for Ao3 work

It was a terrible decision, as then the wolves pounced.

Tamlin tried to duck down, screaming. Hoping someone equally as stupid as him had come out here during the night, hopefully with an axe or a mace. A large claw descended on him, and Tamlin screamed again as it slashed his abdomen. Blood poured from his stomach. Soaking his clothes. The four were on him, a pile of raw flesh for the taking. There was nothing he could do as he felt teeth sink into his arm, preparing to pierce flesh.

Then a roar more powerful than any of the snarling wolves shattered the night sky.

The large furred heads of the wolves jutted up, ears falling back, completely flat. The roar echoed again, similar to a snarled warning. They began to whimper and whine.

Then it appeared, and Tamlin felt all the blood drain from his face.

A character reversal AU, where Tamlin is mortal and in Feyre's position. And Feyre is the High Lady of Spring who needs a human to break her curse.

Day2- The Ghost Of The One That Got Away

Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 work

“Well?” Rhysand asked.

“Well…?” Tamlin repeated.

“You said you needed to practise for your performance. So,” Rhysand leaned back on the heels of his hands, “Practice.”

Confusion lined Tamlin’s soft golden features. He tilted his head ever so slightly, “What?”

Nodding his head once more to the instrument in Tamlin’s hands, Rhysand repeated, “Practise for me.”

“I- Are you sure?” Tamlin seemed to clutch the fiddle closer to him, “It’s not all that good, I-”

“Tamlin.” Rhysand’s voice lowered in pitch, “I want to hear you play.”

Rhysand walks in on Tamlin practicing for a performance. What happened after... well who was to blame him for falling in love on the spot?

Day3- Hedonism

Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 post

Lucien whispered, “I hate that I couldn’t make it all stop. I hate that I couldn’t help you.”

“I hate that I made it so hard for you.” Tamlin murmured back, “I hate that in the end you even stopped yelling at me. You used to do that everyday.”

For once, a smile slipped over Lucien’s face. One pure and real and genuine.

“We haven’t lost it all.” Lucien said, sitting back down, “We aren’t all gone.”

“What else can we do?” Tamlin asked.

Lucien didn’t respond as he took another shot. Tamlin followed suit. As he did his head spun and the light in his eyes swam.

Then he felt a pair of hot hands on his shoulders, making him turn to face Lucien. The male seemed closer than before. As if he had moved his chair across to be nearer.

“I remember your hair.” Lucien whispered into the space between them, “I remember how much you liked me brushing it, or braiding it, or weaving flowers into it.”

Tamlin has never been good with words. Much less relationships, of any kind at all.

He doesn't know how to fix this; he doesn't know if there's any possibility of this being fixed.

But he has to try, for the man that is everything he's ever needed. He will try.

Day4- Mama's Boy

Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 work

“Is it the same rock for every High lord?” Lucien asked. Tamlin groaned loudly and Alis had to step away, lest her snickering led her to messing the paint up. Not that it would be perfect for very long tonight.

“Yes, Lucien.” Tamlin answered.

“Gods.” The fox murmured, “How was that the first time? I don’t think I could fuck in the exact same place I knew my father did.” As he said the words, Lucien visibly shuddered at the thought. To which Andras cackled.

But Tamlin didn’t laugh, stuck on what Lucien said to laugh.

How was that the first time?

On the evening of Calanmai, Tamlin remembers the first time he ever performed the ritual.

Day5- Marry Me

Link to Tumblr post and the Link to Ao3 work

As the music in the air swirled and the people began to dance a heartbeat quicker, Tamlin looked over at Lucien. All beauty and dashing, charming face with sweet eyes, a soft flicker in that burning amber. His gaze sweeping over the work that had been made up for him.

Tamlin cleared his throat and Lucien looked back at him. Holding out his hand, the High lord asked, “My Lord, may I have this dance?”

Slowly, the softest smile that the male could have ever bestowed to him appeared on Lucien’s face. He took his hand gracefully, murmuring, “You may.”

With what he was sure was the same smile echoed on his own features, Tamlin swept Lucien onto the dancefloor. And all of a sudden, it was just them in the world.

Tamlin has been wanting to marry Lucien for two years. Now he finally decides to propose.

Hopefully everything goes smoothly.

Day6- How Easy It Is To Worship You

Link to Tumblr post and the Link to Ao3 work

Lucien shifted, he leaned on his elbow, so he could see over at Tamlin’s face. He started running his fingers through Tamlin’s curls, “Do what?”

“Why…” Tamlin squeezed his eyes shut, “Why do you keep trying to take care of me? Why do you keep trying to love me?”

To Tamlin’s surprise Lucien chuckled, “there's no ‘trying’. I love you, and I want to take care of you. It's as simple as that.”

Tamlin manoeuvred himself so he was laying flat on his back and staring up at Lucien. He tried to search his face for insincerity but only found a look of pure unfiltered love.

“Why? Why do you love me? I’ve never given you a reason to.” Tamlin stared into those deep never-ending amber flames, as his words poured out of his throat. Some kind of dam breaking.

“Tamlin-”

Tamlin has a nightmare, reimagining his past and his mistakes. Lucien comforts him, and helps him through his negative spiral.

And here is a list of other Pro Tamlin creators and their fiction if you are interested in reading from others but don't know where to start!

#acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #tamcien #tamlin/lucien vanserra #rhysand #tamlin/rhysand #tamsand #rhyslin #nesta archeron #pro nesta archeron #neslin #a chaotic human masterlist #acotar headcanons #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #tamris #eris vanserra #jesminda #pro eris vanserra #morsta #morrigan #feysand #fanfiction writer #achaotichuman #religious lesbian icon ianthe #ianthe acotar

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Barbarian Bat: Part One

A/N: It's everyone's favorite day of @nessianweek aka AU Day! And I'm taking everyone to Not-Hoth for it ;) That's right. It's the Ice Planet Barbarians and ACOTAR crossover that literally nobody asked for. Unfortunately, I didn't finish it all in time for Nessian Week, but hopefully, everyone enjoys this first part :) Also, I jokingly named this document Barbarian Bat in my files because I thought it was funny, but then I realized I accidentally matched the actual names of the series in a way (aka Barbarian Lover, Barbarian Mate, Barbarian Mine etc. etc.) so I decided to keep it.

Read on AO3 // Next Part

Nesta just barely swallows down a sigh, curling her knees tight against her chest. She watches across the cave at the way Feyre is curled up beside Rhysand, watches the way he has an arm so casually slung behind her back like it’s the most natural thing in the world, watches the way he leans down to say something quietly and makes Feyre laugh. It’s so comfortable, so easy, Feyre stepping so seamlessly into the role of the Chief’s mate as if the Mother herself predestined it. As if everything that happened, that they went through, is nothing more than a distant memory that led to this moment, this happiness.

Feyre turns her head, tilting her chin up so that she can kiss Rhysand, and Nesta has to look away. Her gaze flits instead around the rest of the cave, to the other human women and sa-khui sat around and in the hot spring that takes up most of the space at the center of the cave. Everyone is chatting or smiling, and Nesta presses her knees that little bit tighter against her chest, digs her nails in that little harder into her arms. She just doesn’t understand how everyone can be so normal. How everyone can act like this whole thing is normal.

“Hello, Nes.”

Nesta snaps her head to the right, finding Cassian standing there, his dark, curly hair falling around his face for once, around the horns twisting up and back. He folds his long legs to settle into the seat beside her, offering her one of his easy smiles that tugs the left side of his lips up higher than the right, that shows off his fanged canines.

“What do you want?” Nesta asks, hoping her cool, clipped tone will scare him off the way the rest of the sa-khui have steered clear of her. Unsurprisingly, Cassian’s grin only seems to grow, his glowing eyes almost seeming to glint.

“I brought you some meat,” Cassian explains, holding out his hands and showing off the food in question. “I have burned it the way you humans like.”

Nesta rolls her eyes and turns away from him. “I’m not hungry.”

Cassian is silent for a moment, and when Nesta chances a glance back toward him, he’s frowning in confusion. “You must be. You have not eaten at all today.”

“What? Are you watching me?”

“Yes.”

Nesta scoffs at that. If there’s one thing these aliens are terrible at, it’s reading a room. She decides not to deem him with a response, hoping that with her extended silence, he’ll finally take a hint and leave her alone. Instead, she focuses on the steam that curls off the hot spring, watching as it floats and dances through the air before vanishing.

“Are you sick? Should I ask Madja to speak with your khui?” Cassian continues when Nesta doesn’t answer. He reaches a hand up toward her face, but Nesta is quick to smack it away before his fingers can make contact against her skin.

“Don’t touch me.”

Cassian shifts so he’s kneeling in front of Nesta. It blocks her view of everyone else in the cave, but it shields her from any prying gazes too. It’s their own bubble, their own cocoon cast by the wide set of his shoulders. His face is pinched with concern, eyes watching her face in that unnerving way of his. Something in that stare has always had Nesta swearing that he could see through her in a way no one ever has, swearing that he could somehow see all the way down to her soul. From the moment Nesta met Cassian back on the crashed ship, that stare had her hackles raising, had her building her defensive walls that little bit thicker, that little bit taller.

“Are you well, Nes?” Cassian asks, his voice quiet and just for her.

Nesta almost wants to laugh at the question, at the absurdity of the notion of her ever being alright. How could anyone be alright after being kidnapped by aliens right from the safety of their bed? She's not sure she'll ever forget the feeling of waking up in a literal cage on that ship. She'll never forget the sight of both her sisters huddled together, both still in their night things and Elain silently crying. She'll never forget the fear that gripped her when Feyre, stubborn and determined as ever, decided to brave the snow of the unknown planet around them. She was sure that she'd never see her youngest sister again, watching her climb out of the safety of what remained of the cargo hold of the spaceship.

She sees it all every time she closes her eyes. She feels the cold metal biting into her skin through the thin material of her sleep shorts. She hears the hum of the engines as they flew through space, hears the clicks of those weird basketball head aliens. She feels that roiling fear twisting in her gut, tastes the tang of failure at the back of her tongue when she realized it wasn't just her but her sisters too that were going to suffer, that she couldn't save them.

Even now, even in this cave supposedly surrounded by aliens who say they only want to help, who swear they'll protect Elain and Feyre, Nesta can't shake that feeling. It still makes her pulse jump. Still makes her stomach twist and turn. Still has bile crawling up the back of her throat. Still makes her chest feel tight enough that it takes active effort to breathe in and out.

So, Nesta lets out a derisive snort, keeping her tone cold and cruel. “Are you fucking with me? I was thrown onto an alien planet covered in snow, and I have this stupid blue alien that never shuts up, that can’t take a hint and leave me alone, and you want to know if I’m well?”

Cassian continues to frown at her, and Nesta wonders if she’s finally hit the mark to drive him away, if she’s finally crossed the line. Wonders if he’ll give up on her now, grow tired of the effort and decide to cut his losses and walk away. She hates the way her heart gives a squeeze at the prospect, quickly squashing that feeling back down.

Rather than hear what Cassian might have to say, Nesta pushes up to her feet and walks away, pointedly ignoring the way she can feel Cassian’s stare prickling along her spine the whole way. She heads for the bathroom, ready to unwind for the evening and take refuge away from any more annoying aliens with piercing stares and concerned words in her personal cave, but when Nesta pulls down her pants, a small, quiet ping draws her attention.

She bends forward, squinting down at the ground in confusion, when she sees the culprit of the sound. Her blood runs cold, a ringing taking up home in her ears and her chest starting to heave with panicked breaths. Her fingers tremble as she reaches down and picks it up.

It’s an IUD.

It’s her IUD, the one thing that’s been keeping her from resonating with anyone.

“Fuck,” Nesta mutters to herself, her heart starting to thunder between her ribs.

Nesta tries to take a deep, calming breath in, but the air stutters in her lungs, catching on the lump pressing in around her throat. She curls her palm around the tiny device, her grip tight enough that her fingers bite into her skin, but just that small shock of pain is somehow grounding. She can’t let the panic get to her. She merely needs to come up with a plan, with her next steps.

The next breath that Nesta takes in is much more steady, and with a decided nod, she steps back out into the intricate cave system. Thankfully, there’s no one around and she’s able to slip back to her personal cave without running into anyone. She quickly slides the privacy screen into place, stepping over to the side of the cave where her furs are laid out. She grabs a pack and starts to stuff her spare leathers inside, tying a pair of snow-shoes to the straps before she stashes it in the corner out of sight.

And then she waits.

Nesta climbs beneath her furs and rolls over so her back is to the cave entrance. She keeps her focus on the wall instead, on keeping her breathing slow to give the illusion that she’s asleep. She’s not sure how much time passes before she hears light, lilting laughter just outside the cave, hears the deep rumble of a response. The privacy screen slides aside and Gwyn steps inside, quiet rustling coming from the other side of the cave as she slips beneath her own furs.

Despite the quiet that settles through their cave, Nesta can still hear the sounds of others in the main cave, but soon that dies down too. And then, just to be safe, she begins to count. She counts all the way up to a thousand before she finally sits up and pushes her furs down her legs. Keeping her movements slow, careful, she rolls her furs up, pausing periodically and glancing back toward Gwyn’s sleeping form. When her furs are gathered, she grabs her pack again, adding the furs and sliding the straps over her shoulders.

She pulls the privacy screen away from the cave entrance inch by slow inch, each scrape along the stone floor too loud in the silent cave and causing her to whip her head back around to check on Gwyn. When there’s finally enough space, she sticks her head out to check everything really is clear. The area around their cave is all empty; although it’s not all quiet. Nesta can hear one of the other women having an exciting end to her evening, and she rolls her eyes. At least, she can use it to her advantage, fully stepping out of the cave and carefully sliding the privacy screen back in place behind her.

She keeps to the walls, to the shadows, as she moves toward the main cave. Her steps are light but quick, and soon, the entrance is in sight. Freedom is in sight. Nesta spies two aliens on guard and standing between her and said freedom, Balthazar and some other name she can’t remember, but they seem to be invested in some sort of game that involves dice carved from bone.

It’s now or never clearly.

Holding her breath and keeping her eyes on the two aliens the whole time, Nesta makes a break for the cave entrance. It’s only when she steps outside that she finally releases the breath in relief, but she doesn’t waste any more time. She grabs her snowshoes and straps them onto her boots, readjusting her pack against her back and marching through the snow. Her steps are slow moving with the way her feet still sink in with every step, but her determination is stronger. She squints up at the sky, at the two moons glowing amongst the inky blacks and purples and tries to remember the way. They had passed a thick forest of trees, or what counts as trees on this godsforsaken planet, and there was—

“Nes!”

Nesta’s whole body freezes up at the sound of that nickname, at the sound of that familiar voice. She decides that she’ll just ignore him. Maybe, he’ll just assume that she’s going for an evening stroll, that she’s just getting some fresh air, and he’ll leave her alone. Of course, she should have known better when it comes to Cassian. Should have known that with his long legs, it would take him only a few strides to catch up with her.

“Nes, what are you doing?” Cassian’s grin falls away as he takes in her pack. “Where are you going?”

“I’m fine,” Nesta snaps, continuing to trudge forward through the snow. “Just leave me alone.”

“You should not be out here at night. It is dangerous.”

“I said I’m fine. I’m just going to the spaceship, the Elder’s Cave, whatever the fuck you call it.”

“Come back inside. We can go in the morning.”

“No,” Nesta argues. She can feel panic beginning to well up in her chest, digging in its claws and clogging her throat. “You don’t understand. I have to…”

Nesta’s words trail off as a strange sort of vibrating starts to take up home between her ribs, sending warmth ricocheting through Nesta’s veins all the way down to her toes. The hum even reaches her ears, seeming to grow faster, louder with each passing second. It’s somehow unsettling and leaves her feeling comforted at the same time, and Nesta is about to ask Cassian if he hears it too when she notices the way his eyes widen. The way he presses a hand to his chest, that odd humming seeming to echo from him too, a response to her own.

Realization of what’s happening hits Nesta like a bucket of ice water, that warm feeling vanishing quickly into icy dread. She swears that she’s going to be sick, her stomach twisting and roiling as she and Cassian continue to resonate with one another. This can’t be happening. She refuses to let this happen.

“No no no,” Nesta mutters, already shaking her head and backing away from him. Her snowshoe gets stuck with the movement and sends her stumbling backwards. Cassian’s hands reach out to her, but almost on instinct, Nesta’s entire body flinches. “Don’t touch me.”

Cassian’s expression looks pained, but slowly he reaches a single hand palm up toward her. “I just wish to help you up.”

Nesta can feel heat start to creep up her neck, but she swallows it back down. She settles her hand in Cassian’s, allowing him to pull her up and back onto her feet. As soon as she’s steady, he drops her hand and takes a pointed step back, giving her space, and Nesta hates the way her heart squeezes and swells at the gesture. Words twist and clog in the back of her throat, pressing and desperate for release, but she swallows them down and wraps her arms around herself.

“Are you going to make me go back inside now?” Nesta asks instead, staring Cassian down, daring him. “Lock me away in your cave?”

“No,” Cassian tells her, and Nesta’s shoulders slump in relief. “But only if you tell me why you wish to go to the Elder Cave so urgently.”

Nesta considers lying to him, considers making up some easy excuse, but she has a strong suspicion that Cassian would see straight through it. “There’s a… device that I have from earth. It’s what kept me from resonating, from having a mate, until now. It’s fallen out, and I need to go to the spaceship because it has a machine that can… put it back in basically.”

“And that’s what you want? To have it put back and to stop resonating.”

“Well, I certainly don’t want to be resonating right now.”

Cassian is quiet for a moment, and Nesta can do nothing but watch as a muscle in his jaw ticks beneath the moonlight. He turns his face away from her, gaze searching across the snow banks, and when he finally looks back at her, there’s something different about his expression, something colder, more closed off. Since the moment that Nesta has met him, there’s always been a warmth to Cassian, an easy openness that’s been a bit terrifying, especially when it’s directed at her, but now, it’s as if his own walls have risen and slid into place.

“Then I will escort you to the Elder Cave,” Cassian finally says. “I just need to grab a pack.”

Cassian turns and starts to move back toward the cave entrance, but Nesta steps forward and reaches out instinctively. “Wait! Will…” She takes a moment to swallow hard. “Will they know? That we resonated? They can't know, Cassian.”

“Almost the entire tribe is already asleep,” Cassian explains, not bothering to turn and look at her, his shoulders tense. “And if you stay out here and wait for me, then our khuis should be silent for now.”

“Okay…”

“Just stay here and wait for me.” Cassian finally turns to look at her again, a flicker of desperation dancing across his face. “Please.”

When Nesta doesn’t say anything else, when she doesn’t move, Cassian jogs the rest of the way to the entrance of the cave, and Nesta watches as he vanishes inside. A breeze blows past her, a shiver skittering its way up her spine, and she wraps her arms tighter around herself to fight off the chill. She glances out toward the expanse of snow around her, the light of the two moons bouncing off the crystalized flakes and leaving everything with an almost eerie glow. It’s unnerving, the quiet and the dark, and while Nesta would never admit it aloud, she’s suddenly glad that Cassian will be traveling with her.

As though her very thoughts have summoned him, the sound of a deep voice prickles her ears. The sounds of multiple deep voices. Nesta whips her attention back toward the cave entrance, her stomach dropping when she sees not just Cassian but Azriel standing there. They stop just outside the cave entrance, too far away for Nesta to hear what they’re saying, but it’s clear what, or whom, the topic of conversation is from the way Azriel’s gaze darts toward her.

Nesta waits for them to approach her. Waits for Cassian to announce their journey isn’t happening. Waits for Azriel to tell her to come back inside the cave. She considers what would happen if she refuses, if she decides to take her chances and see how far she can get trekking through the snow. But before she can even take a step, Cassian and Azriel are clasping forearms, Azriel turning and vanishing back inside the cave.

Nesta watches warily as Cassian walks back over to her. She tries to read his expression, tries to look for any sort of clue about what was said between him and Azriel, but Cassian keeps his face decidedly blank. It’s odd not seeing that teasing smirk he always directs at her, the wrongness of it all clanging through Nesta hard enough that she has to look away.

“What was that about?” Nesta asks once Cassian is close enough. “What did Azriel want?”

“Do not worry about it,” Cassian dismisses, tugging her pack off her shoulders and slinging it alongside the one on his own. “It’s this way.”

Something about his tone, about the way he starts to walk away from her through the snow without even a glance back, has her anger flaring. Those flames lick across her skin and leave her blood simmering. She’s been itching for a fight for a while now, pushing down the urge to let it all boil over, to release her claws, but she gives in to that feeling now. Clenching her fists at her side, she whirls around, storming after Cassian through the snow.

“So, what? Now you’re mad you have to escort me?” Nesta calls after him. “Did you forget that I didn’t ask you to? I was perfectly fine on my own.”

Cassian stops walking, turning back to face her, his tone dripping with a dry sort of sarcasm that Nesta didn’t know the sa-khui were capable of, as he drawls, “sorry I thwarted your wish to get eaten by a snow-cat.”

“You have no idea what I wish,” Nesta seethes, daring to step closer until they’re toe to toe.

“I know that you do not wish to be mates. You have made that perfectly clear.”

The words hang in the air between them, carried away on the night breeze. The world is quiet around them, nothing except their heaving breaths as Nesta glares up at him, Cassian meeting her stare head-on, a twin flame to meet her own blazing through his eyes. But it’s Cassian that breaks away first, taking a step back and readjusting the two packs slung across his backs before he continues the trek through the snow.

“It’s this way.”

—

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#nessian #nessianweek2023 #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #IPB AU #my fic

[rosanna-writer]

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (4/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~4.4k

Feyre traps the Suriel and gets some answers, then makes a decision.

Read on AO3 or you can find the fourth chapter below the readmore.

ch. 1 - the altar is my hips | ch 2. - an arrowhead leading us home | ch. 3 - by the way, i just may like some explanations | ch. 4 - can't not think of all the cost

I slept fitfully, but I slept. My dreams were full of screams and necks snapping and rivulets of blood on stone floors. The pain wasn't Rhys's, which was likely the only reason I managed to get some rest, even if I did suspect the dreams were glimpses out of his eyes. It was dark when I finally got out of bed—I'd been out for most of the day. I'd needed it, though.

There was a note from Mor stuck to the bedroom door. I struggled through reading most of it, but I got the gist: there were food and clothes here for me. It included directions to somewhere called the House of Wind, but I couldn't quite understand all the steps. I pushed the paper aside, dreading admitting I could only read about half the words.

I'd slept long enough to miss a meal, and my stomach grumbled accordingly. I ignored it—partially just because I was unable to shake the habit—and ran a bath, scrubbing hard at my skin and hoping it was enough to wash away the scent from Calanmai. I wasn't ashamed of what Rhys and I had done, but all the conclusions the fae could draw from the lingering smell made me feel uncomfortably exposed. The marks on my neck were already fading.

I wasn't sure if I'd miss them when they were gone.

The echo of the stag's magic was still there, no fainter than it was before I'd fallen asleep. If I hadn't already believed Amren, then this was just more evidence that might have convinced me she was correct about the stag Making me immortal.

But there were things to do, so I pushed that thought aside.

I'd expected the clothes Mor left to be dresses, not the practical pieces I found in the closet. I pulled on a pair of pants that tapered at the ankle, clearly made to be tucked into boots, and shrugged on a sweater with an elaborate pattern of swirling cables. Both were soft, warm, and made from fine fabric of the deepest black.

Functional, easy to move in, and very, very obviously of the Night Court.

I found food in the kitchen, just as Mor had said. She'd mentioned there were chairs on the flat portion of the house's roof, so I found a coat and brought some bread, cheese, and an apple up there. After months of eternal spring, I wanted to feel cold air on my face again, and I'd always felt better out in the open. Back home, being outside was a reprieve from fights with Nesta, Elain's sad, hungry eyes, and my father's indifference. I hated being cooped up.

What I didn't expect, however, was to find Cassian already there, perched like a gargoyle. Cauldron, I thought Mor had been joking when she said this might happen.

"Is there a reason you're sitting like an overgrown bat instead of in a chair?" I called up to him.

Cassian stretched his wings wide, gliding down to the flat portion of the roof where I was standing. "Is there a reason you're eating in the cold?" he said.

"The snow from yesterday already melted. I can tolerate anything above freezing," I said with a shrug. The air was turning the tip of my nose pink, but I didn't mind. I'd faced much worse hunting outside for hours on end every winter. Seeing the stars from here was worth the chill—somehow the night sky in the mortal lands and Spring paled in comparison to the one in Night. I hadn't known it was possible to see so many stars at once.

Cassian gave me a look that might have been approving and sank into a chair as I did the same. "How are you doing?" he said.

"Fine," I said, and it was mostly the truth. I had no desire to talk about my feelings with Cassian anyway. I gestured to the food and added, "Want some?"

He grinned. "Are you always in the habit of offering food to males you've just met?"

I glared and flung the apple at his head, which he plucked out of the air handily, then took a bite. Still scowling, I tore apart the bread and muttered, "I suppose I walked right into that one."

I hadn't meant for him to hear that, but Cassian had the same preternatural hearing as the rest of the fae. His grin went wider. "Walking right into it is pretty disappointing behavior from a professional, if you ask me."

I paused devouring the bread just long enough to raise my brows. "A professional?"

"A professional trapper. Bowhunting too, but you mentioned snares earlier."

It was nearly as ridiculous as the stag calling me High Lady. Most days in the woods, I still felt like a novice. But Cassian's grin was gone, and I realized that he hadn't meant it as a joke. "I'm not a professional. I just did it to feed my family and sold the pelts sometimes."

"For how long?" Cassian said around bites of apple.

"Eight years."

Cassian's gaze turned assessing, as if he was trying to guess my age and work backwards from there. If he asked, I wasn't sure he'd believe that I'd set my first trap at eleven years old. It was a few more years before I could shoot a bow properly, but by my twelfth birthday, I'd been snaring rabbits regularly.

"If you spend eight years doing something to put food on the table, I think you're well within your rights to call yourself a professional."

I finished the bread and started on the cheese, not sure what to say. Lucien's jibes about the mighty mortal huntress rang in my ears. Like Mor, though, Cassian was content to fill the silence, telling me about how his people in Illyria hunted for their meat just as often as they farmed it. When he asked for my thoughts on the merits of still-hunting instead of setting up a tree stand, I didn't think it was just politeness. There was respect there, a kind I'd hadn't been shown in Spring.

It had been a long time since I'd scarfed food down as if it might be stolen, but I still ate relatively quickly. The bread and cheese were gone in a few minutes. I stood to go, and Cassian said, "I have something for you, by the way."

He indicated a small bag that I hadn't noticed was sitting tucked in a corner on the roof. I eyed it suspiciously before picking it up and peering inside.

Bendable wire, a small hatchet, a cloak, and some sort of black leather clothes I couldn't identify. "What is it?" I said.

"Supplies to make a snare, bait for the Suriel, and Illyrian leathers," Cassian said.

I ran my hands over the strange, scaled black leather, then unfolded it to get a better look. There were slits at the back, presumably for wings, and there were a myriad of places to strap knives all over. These were clearly made for fighting.

When I didn't say anything, Cassian continued, "It didn't seem right to send you after a Suriel without something protective, and these are warmer than they look—nothing blocks the wind better. I guessed your size, and let me know if you need help fastening them in the back."

"Thank you," I said, then brought everything downstairs and changed. I didn't particularly care that it was dark out—I was awake and anxious to get moving. And it didn't seem particularly Night Court to wait until daybreak.

It took a few tries to button the leathers in the back, but I managed. I moved around experimentally and decided that I probably would have killed to have these while I was hunting in the woods. The tight-fitting leather wouldn't get caught on anything when I scrambled up a tree, but it was still remarkably easy to move in. It held in my body heat without the bulk of a coat and didn't rustle like fabric might.

These were more than just practical—wearing them, I was lethal.

I planned to pack food along with the supplies for the snare, but when I returned to the living room, Cassian had already done that for me. I assumed he'd take us to the edge of the city with the same vanishing-and-reappearing magic that Rhys and Mor had used, but he just laughed and said there was no need to winnow when he could fly. So I pulled on the hood of my cloak to avoid attention and walked with him there instead.

The bond went taut as soon as I crossed the wards again.

"Rhys, I'm fine, " I muttered, not sure if he could hear me. I expected to feel those talons brush my mind any minute now.

And sure enough, his voice floated into my mind again, his tone carefully neutral. Where are you going?

He clearly didn't like that I'd left the city. My thoughts sounded testy even to myself as I said, Trapping a Suriel. And before you ask, I've done it before.

At first, he didn't say anything back, but through the bond, I felt him perk up with interest. His eyes were probably glittering just as they did when I hadn't let him kiss me goodbye. I wasn't sure what to make of it, but I'd take it over doubt or disbelief. When you finish, please let me know what it tells you.

His mind started to retreat, and I couldn't let him go, at least not yet. I flung out a mental hand and grabbed onto him again. Are you…alright? It seemed like such a stupid thing to ask after what I felt from him earlier, but I couldn't think of anything better.

His response came quickly. No. I said nothing, just waited for him to elaborate. It was strange, feeling the distinct impression that we were having a staring contest despite not being face-to-face. I leaned back against a tree and crossed my arms. Eventually, he added, I'm not any worse off than I was before. I'm not fine, but tell the others I am.

I understood. It would only make it worse to tell them he was hurting, but with the bond, it was impossible to hide from me. I doubted they'd believe it, though.

Stay safe.

You, too.

Cauldron boil and fry me but he was just so hard to let go of. I wanted to tell him he wasn't alone, but after he'd shut me out when I tried to reach for him, that didn't seem wise. Instead, before he could pull away again, I added, And Rhys…If you're going to leave marks, pick somewhere less obvious than my neck next time.

The bond between us snapped taut again, nearly vibrating with all the potential held in those last two words. Next time. Cauldron, I hadn't spoken to him long enough to even be sure he wanted a next time, but there it was.

His mental voice dropped down to that purr of his again. Tell me exactly where you want it, and I'll do whatever you ask.

I couldn't hold back a snort, even if he wasn't there to hear it. Rhys might be alluring—incredibly, heartbreakingly so—but he was also just as transparent. And I couldn't forget he was still a faerie or the lesson now inked on my ring finger. I'm not stupid enough to agree to another bargain with you.

There was a laugh from him, a soft, intimate thing that had me instinctively looking around for the source of the sound, even though it was coming from my own head. His mind retreated after that, and it was just me and the forest as always.

I pressed forward, falling back into old habits as I scouted out a location for the snare. The pines weren't much like the leafy trees back in the mortal lands, but if I closed my eyes, I could almost believe I was back home and that being kidnapped and whisked away to Prythian was nothing more than a nightmare.

Once I found a place for it, I made quick work of setting the trap, just as I always had. I scrambled up a nearby tree, hoping that none of the pine needles ended up embedding themselves between the scales of the leathers.

I hadn't missed the monotony of being alone with my thoughts and trying not to move or breathe too loudly. The woods were quiet beyond the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance, and the most interesting thing to happen for a while was a pair of squirrels scurrying by—apparently their fur in Night was darker than their southern counterparts. Ever a merchant's daughter, I couldn't help but wonder if that meant I could charge a furrier more for their pelts.

But still, boredom was still the worst part of setting a trap.

I don't know how long I sat in that tree, but it was enough to be glad I'd honed my sense of patience. Eventually, though, the Suriel shrieked, and the sound of it nearly knocked me from my perch. I climbed down to meet it.

Even knowing what to expect, my instincts screamed at me to run. I willed myself to stay calm as the Suriel watched me, clutching the new cloak in those awful, clicking fingers of bone.

"I told you not to seek me out again, human," it said.

I'd thought it might say as much, so I said evenly, "I have more questions."

"Release me, and I'll answer your questions. I'll help you as you helped me, but those are my terms."

The Suriel could still run off, but what it was asking seemed fair enough to me. And beyond that, I had no desire to make an enemy of it. As I crouched down and loosened the wire, I braced myself for an attack. It never came.

"Ask your questions. There are many," it said as I straightened up.

There was only so much time before its patience ran out, so I began with my most important question. "How can I release Rhysand from Under the Mountain?"

The Suriel cocked its head at me, the most human gesture I'd seen it make. It failed to set me at ease. "You wish to kill the Deceiver. Interesting."

"That's all I have to do? Kill her?"

That seemed far too simple, even if she did have the power of all seven High Lords in her possession. She could have been overwhelmed by sheer numbers alone by now.

"Do not attempt it. You will not succeed, and if she dies, the High Lords' magic dies with her. The King of Hybern will not hesitate to invade a land without magic."

I wanted Rhys back more than anything, but he'd never forgive me if I did it at the cost of the Night Court's sovereignty. But still, there had to be a way. "Then how?"

"She can still be coerced or convinced to return the power that she stole," the Suriel said. I considered that, and it clicked its fingers impatiently, the bone seeming to glow faintly in the moonlight. "Ask your next question, human. Hurry."

"What did the stag do to me on Calanmai?"

That echo of magic was still there and hadn't faded, still thrumming through me. I was beginning to doubt it would ever disappear.

"You were Made an immortal human, gifted an unobstructed path to your mate and the long lifespan of a faerie."

Just as Amren had said, but it was good to hear the Suriel confirm it. My hand drifted up to the edge of my ear, as if to remind myself that it was still rounded, that I was still me.

"How?" I whispered, not even sure what I was asking. I didn't understand any of it—how a human could possibly have a High Lord for a mate, how the stag had Made me, how any of this had happened.

"The Great Rite is faerie, intended to be performed by a High Lord of Prythian. The magic cannot flow through a human without aftereffects."

It made sense, even if I still didn't understand the reason behind it all. Everything that had led me here had felt purposeful. And I hated being a pawn.

Which brought me to my next question. "What did Tamlin want with me? Why take me over the Wall?"

"To break the Deceiver's curse, he needed the love of a mortal who'd killed one of his men in an unprovoked attack. One with hatred for his kind, with ice in her heart. There are six more weeks for the curse to be broken."

I wanted to vomit. And perhaps I nearly had, because the Suriel took a step back. I hardly noticed—my mind was reeling.

It was bad enough that a few kindnesses had been all it took for me to drop my guard. But knowing that they weren't even kindnesses at all, merely means to an end, was a thousand times worse. Killing Andras had been awful when I'd thought it was in self-defense. And now, knowing that I'd been set up and that he wouldn't have hurt me if I'd just run made it all worse.

Never before had I felt so used.

The sound of the Suriel's voice, suddenly sharp, jerked me from my thoughts. "I'm growing impatient, human. One more question."

"What does this mean?" I said, holding up my tattooed hand.

The Suriel grinned, revealing rows of those awful, brown teeth. "You are already familiar with bargain tattoos."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

It tipped its head back and laughed, teeth clicking together. I frowned and waited for it to answer.

"The Night Court itself chose you to make an offer to. You may complete the bargain by offering something in return. The details of the terms are between you and your court—there are some things that even my kind do not know."

Your court. It was so strange to hear the Suriel refer to the Night Court as mine that I was nearly distracted enough not to notice it clutch its new cloak and run off. I leaned back against the tree, thinking it over.

Because Rhys had asked, I gave a tug on the bond again. As soon as I felt his mind brush mine, I said, Go ahead and see my conversation with the Suriel for yourself. It would be easier than telling him everything, and I didn't mind letting him in like this.

I wasn't sure if anyone ever got used to the sensation of talons digging around in their mind, no matter how gentle they were. It wasn't painful, just strange.

After a moment, the talons retreated and he said, Thank you. I started to say something else, but another sharp wave of his pain and fear down the bond stole the words away. I bit back a cry. Rhys spoke again, urgently this time. I have to go. She's— She's not letting me rest. Ask Amren to teach you to shield your mind.

And just like that, he was gone. The walls were up again, shutting me out completely, and maybe it was worse this way, wondering exactly what was going on instead of feeling it for myself. All the mental shields in the world wouldn't stop me from worrying.

There was nothing left to do but head back to the city. I still wasn't completely sure how the wards worked, so I approached it on a diagonal again, crouching to make myself as small as possible.

When the city appeared around me, I walked right into Azriel. "How did you know where I was?" I said, stepping back to give him some space.

"The wards don't block our view, and my shadows told me you were coming," he said.

I'd been too consumed by everything else that had happened in the last day to pay much attention to the shadows that swirled around him, and now I felt foolish for it. "They…talk?"

He smiled at me for the first time. "Only to me. I'm a shadowsinger."

He said it as if I'd know what that meant, and it just seemed too human to admit that I didn't. I changed the subject. "I trapped it, by the way. The Suriel answered most of my questions."

"Good. Amren wants to discuss what you heard with the rest of the Inner Circle. We're meeting at the House of Wind."

"Now?"

Azriel nodded. "I'll fly you there, if that's alright with you." Mor's note had said something about ten thousand steps. I'd thought it was a figure of speech, but perhaps I'd been wrong about that, too. I must have looked hesitant because Azriel added, "I promise my landings are soft, but I'll warn you now that Cassian can't say the same."

Azriel was respectful, gentlemanly even, as he hooked his arms around my shoulders and knees. We shot into the sky without another word.

I could feel him watching me carefully, but I wasn't afraid. When I'd hunted, I'd sat high up on more than enough shaky branches to last a lifetime. Heights didn't bother me. Instead, I watched the city spread out beneath us and tried to wrap my mind around the size of its sprawl. It had been such a long time since I'd been anywhere with more people than my village on the other side of the Wall.

It wasn't long until we gained speed and descended towards a palace above the city carved from the red stone mountain. I forced myself to keep my eyes open as we glided towards the largest balcony, the wind rushing around us.

The landing was shockingly gentle; Azriel spread his wings wide so we glided down to the balcony, and I barely felt it as his feet hit the floor. He'd made good on the promise, so I decided I trusted him a bit more than I had before takeoff. Amren, Mor, and Cassian were already standing there, waiting for us.

"Well?" Amren said, raising a brow.

"I caught it," I said. My tone was a clear challenge, daring any of them to tell me they doubted that I would. None of them did.

"Then let's talk."

I followed the rest of them inside, towards a meeting room. Unlike the townhouse, this was a true palace—large and official, the sort of place I'd expect to find a High Lord and courtiers. As we took our places around the table, I had the distinct feeling a war council was about to begin.

I told them everything. As I spoke, I half-expected to feel Rhys's mind brush mine or for him to cut in with his own opinions, but the bond was silent. That scared me more than anything. 

When I finished, before any of them could attempt to convince me otherwise, I said, "This hasn't changed my mind. I'm going Under the Mountain, and I'll bargain with her if I have to."

"You can't," Mor said, and there was real fear in her voice. "She'll kill you, Feyre."

Cassian's face was grave as he added, "Mor's right. This is Amarantha we're talking about. She slaughtered her human slaves instead of freeing them during the war. She'll do the same to you."

"And we already lost Rhys to her because he insisted on being a self-sacrificing idiot," Azriel said.

I'd considered all of it already, but my mind was made up. I couldn't live like this, safe under the wards while Rhys's pain lanced through the bond like a knife. And Amarantha was from Hybern—if she held the High Lords' power long enough, what was stopping her homeland from invading mine?

I looked to Amren, expecting her to chime in and agree with them, but she just said coolly, "I wasn't aware we'd abandoned the Nephelle Philosophy in the Night Court." I started to ask what that was, but she added, "Perhaps all of you need reminding that what we think is our biggest weakness may be our biggest strength. And that the most unlikely person can alter the course of history."

Mor got up from her chair, falling into a fighting stance again. Cauldron—this might actually come to blows. 

"It's different. Feyre's not a soldier," Cassian growled. Azriel's eyes flashed, and he appeared to be sizing up Amren as his hand drifted to the dagger sheathed at his hip.

They'd known me less than a day. I didn't understand why they were so prepared to fight a brawl over me.

But if anything, Amren just seemed faintly amused by all of it. She rolled her eyes. "I'm the High Lord's Second, and he isn't here. Don't make me order you not to interfere. Sit down," she said. Mor did as Amren said, glowering at her the entire time.

The High Lord's Second. For an awful moment, I wondered if Amren was so eager to send me Under the Mountain because she viewed me as a threat of some kind. But that seemed laughable—it was clear that if she wanted to be rid of me, I'd already be dead.

I forced myself to meet the swirling smoke of Amren's gaze as she turned her attention back to me. "I've known many High Lords over the centuries, but none like Rhysand. As his mate, you're his match. That makes you a force to be reckoned with alone, but together…you two should be unstoppable. Figure it out and get us out of this mess," she said.

It seemed impossible, but if I wasn't mistaken, Amren actually believed in me. I'd never felt more human, wholly unlike a faerie, let alone a High Lord. At best, I was just a decent shot with a bow.

But maybe the mating bond could drive me to be more than that. Amren seemed to think so.

"Then I'll leave tomorrow," I said.

"No. I doubt she'll bargain with you while the curse is still in effect. You'll wait until it runs out."

I considered that. As much as I hated to wait, she was right—it wouldn't be to my advantage to leave while the magic still clearly proved I wasn't in love with Tamlin. I took a breath as Cassian's words about Rhys deserving our best effort came back to me.

"And what will I do until then?" I said.

Amren smiled, her gaze sweeping over all of us as she said, "You didn't think we'd send you Under the Mountain unprepared, did you?"

#feysand #feyre archeron #we said hello and your eyes look like coming home

[theladyofbloodshed]

Prompt-

(I'm imagining this fic a couple decades after your AU ACOSF story,not the Canon ACOSF but you can keep it however you like)

If you feel okay with doing a pregnancy related fic then-

Can you do one where Nesta is pregnant and very hormonal (like prone to crying or getting upset easily which is very OOC but I want the fluff and angst in this so) and Cassian is very overprotective of her and tries to make sure she never gets upset.So like one day when Cassian is away in Illyria and Nesta is staying at the River house for some reason maybe she is having some argument/conversation with Amren (cause she's basically fixed over issues with everyone except her so ig it will make sense for Amren to be there)or someone else (if you don't feel like writing Amren because understandably she's an annoying character) and she bursts out crying out of frustration or something ( cause hormones ) and then the rest of the IC tries to make her happy/calm her down cause if Cassian shows up and finds out that they upset her then he'll get really pissed of and pick a fight or something (cause protective male instincts) so it's just the whole of the IC ( excluding Cassian but literally everyone else partners and all) that is trying to comfort,soothe and downright beg Nesta to calm down and stop crying(Like Rhys gets involved and asks Amren or whoever she was arguing with to apologize cause he doesn't want to see her stressed and doesn't want to deal with Cassian lol).My idea is it ends with Cassian showing up and something happening (good or bad-whatever it takes for you to make this angsty or fluffy-as long as it has a happy ending imo).

Ofcourse you don't have to follow this to the exact request and you can steer completely away from it for all you want.The basic hormonal pregnancy concept is something I would love to see with Nesta since I feel like it will be such a shock for the IC to see her so open with emotions.

I set this at some point after AU ACOSF so it mentions Zasha and Rovena. Eris is also still buddies with Nesta.

Hope you enjoy pregnant and hormonal Nesta!

Pregnancy was hell. Feyre had birthed a cherubic baby boy weeks earlier and her entire pregnancy had been a breeze. Only in the final few weeks did Feyre’s pregnancy slow her down - and that had been at Rhys' insistence. From the back, she hadn’t even looked ten months pregnant.

Nesta wished the same could be said for her, but her own pregnancy was utterly horrendous.

She had entered month eight. Every single month had been plagued with morning sickness. And not just morning sickness, afternoon and night sickness too. The whole pregnancy, Nesta had felt as if she was at sea. The healers had run out of things to try. Nesta had even tried the old wives’ tales spouted by mortals with no luck. If she wasn’t vomiting, heart burn clawed at her chest. No position was comfortable. She couldn’t sit for long, couldn’t stand for long – and night time was filled with fitful tossing and turning. Every afternoon, her ankles had swollen like balloons and the gigantic bump she lugged around gave her terrible back ache.

Everybody blamed Cassian. If it wasn’t for his enormous size, the baby wouldn’t be the size of a small elephant.

‘I’d say they’re nearing ten pounds,’ Madja had said after their last appointment.

‘But I have two months left. It can’t grow anymore.’

The healer had shrugged then pointed at an uncharacteristically sheepish Cassian. ‘Have you seen the size of your mate?’

Despite getting her into this state, Cassian had been a stalwart support in every moment. He had doted on her constantly. He refused to allow her to do a single thing around the house. He had prepared the entire nursery, massaged her swollen feet, and got whatever food she had a sudden craving for. Once, he even flew all the way to the Autumn Court to purchase a single candy-covered apple for her. He did anything to ensure she didn’t cry.

Crying happened as much as vomiting. Nesta saw a child trip and bloody their knee in Windhaven, and she’d been the inconsolable one. Cassian had eaten the last stale biscuit after asking her three times if she wanted it then she burst into tears when he’d finished it; her body deciding it did want it after all. Being near baby Nyx was hell. If he started, Nesta sobbed. The sound of his cries made her milk leak so Nesta cried even more at her soggy dress.

Nobody knew what to do when she wept. They hadn’t gotten used to her hormonal state in eight months. Cassian was the only one who could soothe her fully. The pregnancy had brought them even closer. He’d only made he cry once in the last week, when he’d confiscated her salted pistachios and claimed too much salt was bad for her and the baby. He’d soon learnt never to take the food away.

Nesta spent the morning hugging the toilet then needed Cassian’s assistance to rise. She wore one of his tunics. Nothing much fit her these days. Everything was too tight or too uncomfortable. The steadily rising temperature of the summer made her miserable too.

‘Everything’s packed, sweetheart.’

Her lower lip wobbled. It had been agreed that they’d relocate to Velaris for the final few weeks. Nobody expected Nesta to reach full term anyway. Saying goodbye to the cabin even for a few weeks made her sniffle. Cassian brought her close and cuddled her.

It was not only Nesta whose emotions were on edge. There was nothing fiercer than a male with a heavily-pregnant, thoroughly miserable mate it seemed. When Nesta had been out of ear-shot, he’d argued with anybody over anything. If Rhys hadn’t moved his knee enough out of the way when Nesta moved past. If Mor hadn’t offered Nesta a fifth strawberry. If the wraiths cooked something that turned Nesta’s stomach. Elain had made a comment with no ill-intent about how different Feyre and Nesta’s pregnancies were. That was it. As soon as Nesta’s eyes had filled with tears, Cassian was on his feet ready to wage war for his mate against Elain of all people.

Azriel and Rhysand took it in turns to come to their cabin on the outskirts of Windhaven to spar with him. Mostly they ended up bloodied and beaten, but it helped to take the edge off Cassian’s temper. Usually, Azriel would escort his mother there so that Rovena could placate Nesta meanwhile. The Illyrian female would bring knitted blankets or toys, traditional Illyrian meals, or homemade remedies for all of Nesta’s ailments. She was the gentle mother that neither of them had, who always brought comfort and reassurance.

‘We won’t see Rovena.’

Cassian stroked her head. ‘It’s just a few weeks. We’re closer to the healers and our family.’

‘But Rovena’s our family,’ Nesta wailed. ‘And Zasha? He’s our first-born. We can’t just leave Illyria.’

Their dog would remain with Rovena for the time being – that had been another upset. Rhys was reluctant to let the ill-mannered, untrained hound into his elegant riverside estate, especially with his own new born son. Nesta had cried and protested that Zasha wasn’t an issue. Eris had offered to keep him a while, but the dog was bonded well with Rovena.

When Cassian’s brothers came to transport their belongings, Azriel asked if everything really was necessary. His eyes had lingered on Nesta’s weapons piled up by the door. She hadn’t managed any activity more than a slow walk around the garden in weeks and weeks.

‘It’s coming,’ Cassian growled. ‘Nesta wants it. It’s coming.’

As they settled into a floor of the vast river estate, various members of the inner circle helped move their furniture around and unpack for them. They had four blissful days together in the early summer sunshine then Cassian was sent on a mission to the mortal lands to meet with Jurian and Eris.

‘It’s only a few days,’ he promised.

Cassian had not been happy about the decision. He’d argued with Rhys over his selection when Nesta was so heavily pregnant. They still had a few weeks in theory, Cassian knew, but Nesta was ready to pop at any moment it seemed. There was no way around it. Only him or Rhys could go. Rhys had a baby to care for. Feyre’s pregnancy might have been a dream, but at least their son was proving to be the opposite. The fact was a balm to soothe Nesta. Cassian would whisper to her that they’d have an easy baby who slept all night. Nyx didn’t sleep. It was their fault for naming him after night. The pair of them were lucky if they managed two hours a night – and never solid. That fact was evidenced by Rhys throwing his full mug of tea into the bin and keeping hold of the tea strainer

‘But what if the baby comes.’

‘Rhys will bring me back. But the baby won’t come yet.’

‘I can’t do it without you,’ she pleaded, hooking her fingers into his. It always broke his heart when she began to cry, even if now Nesta cried if a spider was squashed.

‘And you won’t. Just a few days.’

It had taken almost an hour to prise himself out of her grip. Azriel had employed emergency diversion tactic number one and brought Gwyn for a visit. Nesta’s mood had brightened so Cassian swooped down for a kiss then was on his way before she could fully register his absence.

***

They had managed two days with no blubbering. Cassian was due back for dinner, thank the Mother. Azriel felt for Nesta, he really did, but they all trod on egg-shells around her. Where was the silver-eyed female who’d blazed with power? Washed away with all the wailing that happened. Mor had nearly set her off the previous night by asking if she missed Cassian. The whole room had tensed as Nesta sucked in a breath. They had employed emergency diversion tactic number two and a babbling baby Nyx was pressed to her chest. He hadn’t wanted to sleep anyway, Feyre had muttered.

It wasn’t the crying that was the worst bit. It was what followed Nesta’s tears. A male, full of rage and protectiveness, would come and bellow at them. It was like upsetting a cub and the big, daddy bear was lurking round the corner ready to rip their heads off.

‘It’s sweet.’

Azriel rolled his eyes at Gwyn in the garden. ‘I feel like a prisoner.’

‘Then keep your jailer happy.’

They did all they could to keep Nesta happy. She’d been taken for a slow plod around the garden by Lucien and Elain and sat now with her feet in a stream, drinking lemonade with a book. Azriel was glad he was not female. If he’d only seen Feyre’s pregnancy, he might have thought it was something magical. Nesta had opened his eyes to the horrors that came with bringing life into the world.

In the afternoon, their horror became a reality. Nesta’s cries rang out from the kitchen. Azriel surged there, his shadows carrying him quicker.

She clutched her handkerchief to her chest and sobbed.

‘I’m sorry. Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry,’ Varian said, trying to pull an arm around her.

Nesta stood rooted to the spot crying. Rhys was there, pushing Varian out of the way and putting his own arm around Nesta. Miraculously, she sunk into his touch.

‘What did you do to her?’

Amren threw up her hands. ‘It was a valid question.’

The male hung his head. ‘It was wrong of me. I’m so sorry.’

‘He asked me if was carrying twins. I look like a beached whale.’ Nesta let out a high-pitched whine.

‘You look beautiful, Nesta,’ said Gwyn. Mor nodded her head in agreement.

It only made Nesta cry harder. ‘You two are perfect. I look like I’ve swallowed a boulder. I haven’t seen my feet for weeks.’

Feyre bounced a red-faced, screaming Nyx on her hip. ‘I was the same, Nesta. It will pass.’

‘No, it won’t! You didn’t even look pregnant. I’m an elephant.’ Tears streaked her face. Her crying made Nyx cry.

‘It is an unnaturally large baby,’ Amren grimaced.

Rhys shushed her. ‘Pregnancy is a blessing, Nesta.’

‘You carry this gigantic bat then,’ she hissed.

It was at that moment that Elain and Lucien entered carrying groceries. One of those items hung over Lucien’s arm; a floppy-necked pheasant ready to be plucked.

‘Is that a dead bird?’

Lucien wasn’t quick enough to hide it behind his back.

Nobody could stop Nesta’s crying. No offers of cake or massages or future babysitting could slow the flood of tears. They all fussed about her, trying to get her into a chair and to drink a nice, cold lemonade again. One of Azriel’s shadows brushed against Nesta’s forehead to cool her down. The summer heat wasn’t helping things. Nesta was inconsolable at the thought of the bird being killed now.

Rhys suddenly froze. His face drained of colour.

‘Cassian’s coming.’

If they thought mention of her mate’s name might have improved the situation, they were sorely mistaken. They flapped around the kitchen, debating what to do. Amren and Varian fled as quickly as they could, knowing that they were most likely to be victims of the general’s ire. Lucien stashed the pheasant in a cupboard then Feyre yelled at him to get rid of it properly. Through it all, Rhys bounced Nyx in his lap, trying to get his son to stop crying, while keeping an arm around Nesta’s shoulders as he perched on the arm of the chair.

‘Should I bar the door?’ Azriel asked drily.

‘Like that will keep him out,’ Mor snorted.

‘Nesta, you have to stop crying,’ Elain whispered, clutching her sister’s hand. ‘If Cassian comes back and you’re crying, he’ll…’

None of them wanted to think about what Cassian would do. Nesta cried at everything and he’d fight them over it. Azriel had been banned from eating eggs because Nesta started crying thinking about them one day being chicks. Even when he had explained to Cassian that it was physically impossible for the eggs he ate to turn into chickens, Cassian had still enforced the ban.

They felt the tremor as Cassian landed on the front step.

‘Give me my son,’ Feyre had ordered before scurrying from the room with him.

Azriel gave a nod to Gwyn. Leave while you still can, he thought.

‘You’re not going anywhere. She’s ­your sister,’ Lucien said, catching Elain by the arm as she tried to flee. He pulled Elain in front of him and gave a twinkling smile.

‘Nesta, stop crying. I’ll give you anything. My entire bank account. Stop crying,’ Mor begged. ‘He’s coming now, just please stop crying.’

‘I can’t,’ she sniffed, dabbing at her face. ‘All I do is cry and vomit.’

The great shadow of Cassian loomed into the kitchen. The wraiths had the sense to vanish, dragging Azriel’s shadows with them.

He said nothing, merely looked at Nesta sobbing in the chair. He raised an eyebrow to Rhysand who leapt away from it. Each step towards his mate made the house quake.

‘Lucien brought a dead bird into the house,’ Mor said, throwing Lucien under the wagon.

‘You know she’s not eating meat,’ Cassian hissed, engulfing Nesta into a fierce embrace. ‘None of you should have meat in the house. You know this.’

Yes, they did, Azriel thought miserably. They couldn’t have meat or eggs because Nesta felt too guilty about the animals who suffered. No fish either. She’d gone off the smell of cinnamon. They weren’t allowed to drink because she couldn’t. It had to be said that Nesta never insisted on these rules; it was the overprotective nursemaid that puffed up his chest and set the commandments.

‘Varian asked if she was having twins,’ Lucien shot back, angling Elain so she was his shield.

‘He what?’

Nesta cried harder at the memory. ‘I’m huge.’

‘Where is Varian?’

They knew Cassian well enough to recognise the challenge in his voice. That low note always meant danger.

‘Do you know what, Cass? Since you work so hard, you can go on leave. You and Nesta deserve fun. Take as much time off as you want. I wanted to build you a house too. Here. Illyria. Both.’

The fearsome face of the general melted away as he turned back to Nesta. His wings spread out behind him, blocking her mostly from view. Azriel could still see a glimpse of Nesta as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She spoke Illyrian fluently now. Her accent gave her away, but only Azriel and Rhys could eavesdrop on the conversation.

‘Do you want to go back to Illyria?’

‘I just want this baby out of me. I’m so hot and miserable. I can’t sleep. They’ve been kicking me all day.’

Cassian’s massive hand rubbed Nesta’s stomach then she guided it to the side of her bump. The corners of his mouth ticked up as a foot met his palm then he said in a stern voice, ‘Stop hurting your mother.’

He rummaged for something in his bag then pulled out an apple on a stick drizzled in toffee. ‘From Eris.’

Nesta tore open the wrapping and crunched down on the sticky flesh. The moment the sugar touched her tongue, she let out a sigh of happiness. Cassian stroked her hair, glad his mate was at peace finally.

To them, still cowering in the kitchen, he mouthed, ‘Food. Always food.’

#nessian #pregnant nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #cassian #my writing

[jennierubyjanersblog]

DADDA - Gwynriel’s child’s first words headcanon

I should be mainly focus on WoH, but these past few days my mind had been all over the place and I was torn between WoH, a NSFW Gwynriel AU (that I’ll most likely never share because I’m *shy*), and Gwynriel as parents. I’ve been in an unusual baby fever lately (s/o to @shadowsingerspriestess for the gender-reveal hc that motivated me to write this), so here is a little headcanon about Gwynriel’s child’s first words.

Their son was six months old. Onyx tufts of hair, wide teal eyes and a delicate set of wings, Erebus taught both Gwyn and Azriel a new kind of love, one they didn’t even imagine could exist. He was a treasure, a blessing from the Mother.

And, as of now, the center of attention and the most spoiled by their family. Mor fought anyone that tried to take Erebus from her arms. The blonde was wholly obsessed with their son, and it was not unusual for her to unceremoniously drop by their mansion because she missed her nephew.

His shadows were captivated by Erebus. At first, Azriel was afraid they’d scare him, but the first time a bold one went to wrap around his little fist, the boy was nothing but curious. Those blue-green eyes that perfectly mirrored Gwyn’s had the same sparkle as hers when she first got to properly interact with his shadows. Erebus laughed and tried to grasp the black mists of onyx, completely mesmerized by them. Ever since then, they hardly left his side. They would soothe Erebus when he’d wake up crying; play with the babe by dancing around him, or gently tickling his sides. They even sang to Erebus when Az and Gwyn were too tired to do so, and to his surprise, their son would not only calm down, but also fall asleep.

“Maybe he understands them.” Gwyn had said. He was inclined to disagree, yet his mate pointed out. “Unless your title is made up by someone, there are chances Erebus inherited your shadowsinging abilities.”

Azriel asked his shadows, but they did not give him a concrete answer. So all they could do was wait for Erebus to grow up.

Azriel had been gone to Spring Court with Rhys for two weeks. Even years after the war had ended, with a somewhat established peace, Tamlin’s court was still in a frail state. His and Rhys’ presence was still required there.

It was no surprise that, when Azriel got back home, his shadows informed him that Gwyn overworked herself. As usual, his gorgeous – and stubborn as hell – mate wouldn’t accept help from anyone, so she took care of everything. If Azriel felt overwhelmed when it was both of them, he couldn’t even grasp how it must have been for Gwyn, two weeks on her own with a six months old babe.

Erebus was, compared to Nesta and Cassian’s daughter, Ida, a quiet child. He still had his moments of crying and screaming, but they were not nearly as many as Ida’s when she was his age. But did Erebus have a ton of energy.

“He is peacefully sleeping.” His shadows announced. He didn’t want to wake his son, so he decided to first look for his mate.

Azriel found Gwyn in the bathing room. Her head was thrown back, lips parted as she delicately snored. The book she must’ve been reading was floating into the bathtub. Azriel suppressed a chuckle as he walked towards her, not before sending some shadows to gently wake her up.

She was disoriented at first, looking around the room until her eyes met his. “Shadowsinger, you’re back.” Her smile was nothing but a thing of secret, lovely beauty.

Kissing her lips softly, Azriel brushed her cheek as he apologized. “I hate to wake you up, sweetheart, but I am afraid you’re going to freeze if you stay in this bathtub longer.”

Gwyn crinkled her nose, but didn’t protest as he helped her stand up and dry her trembling body with a fluffy towel. She cursed under her breath as she noticed the floating book, complaining how it was her Sellyn Drake signed edition.

As soon as he took her in his arms, Gwyn’s eyes felt heavy. “He’s been restless lately. I think it’s because his teeth are starting to grow. It was a miracle that I got him to sleep tonight.”

Gwyn was already asleep by the time they reached their room. Carefully, he tucked Gwyn under the covers and affectionately kissed her cheek. His body ached, exhaustion kicking in, yet Azriel had to check on Erebus first.

Soundlessly, the shadowsinger winnowed in the nursery. Shadows were already by Erebus’ side, hovering above the child as if they observed him. Azriel couldn’t stop the smile. Bringing a scarred finger to his son’s chubby cheek, Azriel lightly brushed the soft skin. His little fists clenched and unclenched.

Large ocean eyes slowly opened. A small yawn left his tender mouth, then Erebus blinked to get used to the dim light in the room.

“Hello, bud,” Azriel whispered, his heart swelling when Erebus smiled back. He raised his hands and legs, trying to reach for Azriel. He was about to pick him up, yet his whole body froze.

“Da-dda.”

Azriel could only stare at Erebus. The babe giggled and kept repeating dadda, wiggling and panting as he, unsuccessfully, tried to cling to his father’s neck.

Erebus has never said that word. In fact, no other word. Or maybe he started talking when he was away.

“No, shadowsinger, this is his first word!” shadows excitedly swirled around them.

“Da-dda!”

He was about to pass out. “Well, are you going to hug your son or leave him wriggling in his bed?” Gwyn’s serene chuckle filled the room. Azriel was still too dumbfounded to do anything but stare. Was it possible; could this be real?

He felt a hand on his back, rubbing small circles. Standing on her tip-toes, Gwyn kissed his cheek lovingly. “It’s the first time he ever talked, Az.”

With shaky hands, Azriel picked Erebus from the crib. Their son squealed and threw his arms around the shadowsinger’s neck. The toddler muttered dadda with a huge, toothless grin. Once again, Azriel understood happiness took many forms; and nothing could yet compare to what he felt at that moment. His heart, which he had once considered wretched, was melting. The overwhelming joy swelling in his chest brought tears to his eyes.

Gwyn’s eyes were glistening, her delight just as immense. With one hand running through Erebus’ hair, and the other brushing Azriel’s cheek, Gwyn beamed. “My beautiful boys.”

A faint blush adorned Az’s face. He crookedly smiled, leaning to kiss her. Yet his lips did not meet the soft, plump ones he adored, but a chubby cheek he equally loved. Erebus giggled as he stopped his parents from kissing.

“Mischievous little thing.” Gwyn chuckled, fondly ruffling Erebus’ soft hair. The baby answered by stretching his little arms to her, a silent demand to be held by his mother.

They spent about an hour playing with Erebus before the babe fell asleep against Gwyn’s chest after being breastfed. Back to their room, Azriel could hardly grasp what had happened. He never thought those first words of Erebus would ever wake so many things in Azriel.

“Well, I guess I lost.” Gwyn dramatically sighed while running her fingers through Azriel’s hair. With his head in her lap, he looked up at her, questioning. She chuckled and shrugged. “Remember our talk years ago, when I said our child was going to say momma first?”

Azriel’s brow creased. In his selfishness, he strictly focused on his glee. Didn’t take into consideration how Gwyn might feel that their child had first said dadda. “I am sorry, sweetheart.”

The amusement was gone. Gwyn frowned, then sighed in utter exasperation. “I swear to the fucking Cauldron, if you believe for one second that I am bitter because Erebus said dadda not momma first, I am going to beat your muscled ass.” His lips twitched slightly. Gwyn bent her head to kiss the tip of his nose. “Az, I was teasing you. I am just as joyful as you are!” A small pause, then Gwyn smiled brightly. “In fact, I am happier that his first words were dadda than I would’ve been if they were momma.”

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up as Gwyn answered the unasked question. “I don’t have an explanation for it, shadowsinger. I love you, and you’re an amazing father.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. You’re an incredible mother, Gwyneth.” Azriel whispered, kissing her elegant, freckled knuckles reverently. She chuckled. “Oh, I know that. We’re both terrific.”

He couldn’t help but bring her head down for a kiss. Her confidence made his stunning Valkyrie even more irresistible. Gwyn grinned between kisses, pulling back. There was a wicked gleam in her eyes that he knew meant trouble — in the best way possible.

“But, because it’s rare I lose, I call it now and say our second child will say momma ,” Gwyn taunted, her deft fingers tracing the swirls inked on his skin. Azriel cocked one eyebrow. “Someone is a sore loser.” He teased back, chuckling at the light swat on his bare chest.

Azriel turned to face Gwyn. She simply lay on the bed, his shirt that she was clad in riding enough to expose her perfect thighs to his hungry gaze. “Or someone is saying we should try for baby two.” Gwyn grinned, painfully slow, spreading her long as hell legs. “We’ve anyways agreed on having more than a child, and now seems like the perfect time. What do you say, mate?”

After all, who was Azriel to deny his mate anything?

Erebus, as far as I’ve got to research, means “deep darkness” or “shadow”, and has Greek origins. I think it’s self-explanatory why I chose this name, haha.

I was in a rush when editing it, so sorry for the mistakes, but I will fix them as soon as I have more time. I just couldn’t help myself but post this. 🥰

#gwyneth x azriel #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn acosf #acosf #azgwyn #headcanon #gwynriel headcanon #gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel fanfiction #gwyn acotar #azriel x gwyn

[houseofhurricane]

love your writing! modern au request: gwynriel hosting thanksgiving for their friends the first time after recently moving in together (I’m picturing gwyn trying to cook elaborate recipes and completely failing but feel free to go where you want haha)

All right, this is Gwynriel and the Prythian equivalent of Thanksgiving, but it's not a modern AU because I got stuck on what Azriel and Cassian's jobs would be! (Gwyn was going to be a new professor and everyone would have come out to the small town where she and Azriel moved to celebrate Thanksgiving with them... I really tried to figure it out!) But anyway, here's a more-or-less canon-compliant Thanksgiving Gwynriel fic with lots of Nessian and Emorie, as well as love and chaos. After all, it is Thanksgiving.

---

“Nobody’s going to notice if the cranberry sauce doesn’t have orange zest,” Azriel says, his hand on Gwyn’s shoulder, waiting for her nod of acknowledgement.

She tries to smile back at him, but ends up cradling her head in her hands.

Gwyn had started her preparation for the Autumn Equinox dinner a week early, running across Velaris in search of obscure spices and decorations, cramming cooking around her already-full schedule.

“This is our one chance to host,” she says, her words muffled by Azriel’s leathers as he pulled her into a hug, thankfully stirring the cranberry sauce at the same time. “Feyre and Rhys will take it back next year.”

Azriel muttered something that sounded suspiciously like thank the Mother for that, and then, smoothing her hair, says, “Cassian mentioned Nesta hasn’t been feeling well. And Mor and Emerie are coming from Anahit’s party, so at minimum they’ll be late, and probably tipsy. Everyone will be impressed by the smells alone.”

She takes a deep breath and stands up straight, trying to channel the same energy she’d found in battle, during the Blood Rite. This was nothing in comparison, Gwyn tells herself. Even if she still has to wrestle the turkey out of the oven.

Still, Azriel offers to take over for her so she can change into the outfit she’d lovingly selected weeks ago, and by the time she emerges in the emerald green sweater and leather leggings, Nesta and Cassian have arrived, a fragrant squash pie in Cassian’s hands.

Her friend looks pale and moderately aggrieved, and Cassian catches Gwyn’s eye and shakes his head before she can follow Nesta to the sitting room. But Gwyn has always had a knack for snapping Nesta out of her moods, so after pulling the potatoes out of the oven and deciding that the turkey needs a few minutes more to cook, she grabs the cheese plate she spent an hour arranging at dawn and heads to the sitting room.

Nesta instantly covers her nose with both of her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she says, sounding truly wretched, “I don’t know what I ate yesterday, but I woke up this morning and everything is too much for my stomach. Sounds and smells, and also Cassian is just somehow too nice, which you know is infuriating.”

“I understand,” Gwyn says, walking the cheese plate back to the kitchen to a shrug from Cassian, who has already stuck a fork in the green bean dish that Azriel insisted he’d never eat, and returning with crackers and grapes, which Nesta accepts, and soon she and Gwyn are talking about their plans to start regular self-defense classes throughout the Night Court.

When Gwyn goes back to the kitchen to pull out the turkey, Cassian actually bows down in front of her.

“I didn’t realize the green beans were that good,” she deadpans, heaving the giant bird on to the counter, Azriel swooping in to catch the other side before it falls.

“They are,” her mate says with a kiss, but Cassian rolls his eyes.

“How did you calm Nesta down like that? I’ve been trying to tell her--” He clamps his mouth shut and Gwyn thinks interesting, but this is an important dinner for her, so she returns her attention to the oven, the macaroni and cheese that’s just about to get a bit too brown. Once she removes it, she arranges the roast vegetables on the wooden board she’d bought just for this dinner, and once she’s moved that and everything else to the table, she hears Mor and Emerie in the sitting room with Nesta, wondering if the meal is just grapes and crackers.

They’re definitely tipsy, Gwyn thinks, but she pours them each a goblet of wine anyway, because tipsy Mor makes any party better, and because Emerie sparkles when they’re together and usually ends up telling the most funny and embarrassing stories after four glasses of wine.

Before they eat, Azriel insists on having them all admire the food, and on having Gwyn accept everyone’s compliments, which is fine until Nesta lets out an ominous gulp and Cassian hurries her to the bathing-room.

“She ate something strange last night,” Azriel says, too evenly, though it doesn’t cover up the sounds Nesta’s making in the bathing-room, or her gasp after the rumble of Cassian’s voice. Then there is silence for a while, during which Mor and Emerie start asking Azriel what Nesta could have eaten, making increasingly improbable suggestions, and Gwyn decides to pour herself a glass of wine.

“You know something,” she murmurs to him, when Mor and Emerie get carried away and therefore more than a little distracted.

“Cassian needed advice,” he murmurs back, raising his eyebrow the way he does when they’re on a mission and she hasn’t put the obvious together yet. And, like it always seems to when she’s with Azriel, everything clicks.

“Nesta’s pregnant?”

Gwyn swears she barely whispers the words, but then, as Azriel gives the world’s tiniest nod, Mor and Emerie are shrieking and laughing and refilling her glass of wine, and when Nesta returns, pale but with shining eyes, she takes one look at their grins and says, flatly, “Cassian told you, didn’t he?”

“I happen to be an excellent spy,” Gwyn says, realizing that she hasn’t eaten in hours but has drank down two glasses of wine, and then she flings her arms around Nesta and congratulates her, telling her what an incredible mother she will be, fierce and loyal and perfect, and Nesta’s arms are tight around Gwyn too, and it takes Gwyn too long to realize that her sweater is wet with a few of Nesta’s tears.

“You really will be perfect,” Gwyn says again as Azriel and Cassian lead them both to the table, where Mor has started heaping food onto everyone’s plates.

“I agree,” Emerie says, the only person Gwyn knows who gets more convincing with every glass of wine. “You’re going to be the best mother, Nes. You’ll have to give us lessons.”

Mor’s eyes go wide at that, and then Emerie has to clarify, pointing dramatically at the wine bottle, but as they finally all begin to eat the food she started preparing days ago, Gwyn has the sense that there was a declaration made, a line crossed.

Sure enough, the next few Autumn Equinoxes pass with new babies and rounded bellies, including one where Azriel has to practically tie a very pregnant Gwyn down to a chair in order to keep her from trying to heave the turkey into the oven as per tradition, but for that last dinner where the six of them are just six adults in love and in friendship, she fills her plate and takes it all in.

#gwynriel #nessian #emorie #gwynriel thanksgiving #apparently i write gwynriel for every holiday now #nessian pregnancy #gwynriel fic #domestic gwynriel #domestic nessian #emorie are the queens of a good dinner party #asked and answered #acotar #acotar fanfiction

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Loving the Nessian Lawyer AU fic!! That Nesta is an Armani girl? Yesssss --just *chef's kiss* 💋 Here's a prompt for you if you please: canon-verse jealous!nessian. Cassian arrives late to an evening event at the Summer Court high lord meeting. Nesta's wearing a black gown. Only as she walks he notices the mid-thigh high slit 👀👀

Oh you KNOW I love a jealous Cassian. I took some liberties with the dress because by Prythian standards I just wasn’t sure a thigh slit would cut it ;)I also gave Nesta some new power because she deserves it!!

Keep the requests coming guys I’m having so much fun!!

The death of Beron Vanserra, as it turned out, was the birth of peace among the courts of Prythian.

Tamlin was still a jackass, but not powerful enough to actually ever take a stand or reject peace.

So the courts banded together. An impenetrable alliance of forces that the continent nations wouldn’t dare March on. And to uphold that agreement, this is what they did now. Once a year they had a summit. The hosting Court rotated and this was the first year it was being held in Summer. Rhys joked that he had to make a special appeal for Cassian to be allowed back in Tarquin’s court after the infamous building incident.

Whatever.

It wasn’t even that big of a building. Tarquin could be so dramatic.

Anyway, the point was that Beron’s death had been a very good thing for everyone. But that still didn’t mean Cassian liked having to sit in a room with Tamlin and Eris Vanserra. Alone.

Ok not alone. But… basically alone. Mor had abandoned him the second they walked in and she was giggling with Vivianne on the other end of the room. Rhys and Feyre were trying to nail down an agreement with Thesan to import some of his Faebane stopping powder.

Azriel wasn’t there at all because he and Gwyn were on some insane spy mission in Vallahan that had to coincide with this summit because that was when all the other territories relaxed. Got lazy and assumed there was no threat from Prythian.

But, you might be asking yourself, Cassian still shouldn’t be alone here, right? He had a mate. A beautiful, powerful, mother communing, force of nature of a mate.

Who was, for all of those stunning qualities that made him love her, a very in demand woman.

Right now she was working with Helion. She’d been gone more than a week. And a week the month before that. And the month before that. And they should be done now. Should be ready to present to the group this new spell that they were creating.

A protection spell. Nesta and Helion were creating a spell. Like gods of magic. Not ingrained, learned, trained, magic. They were creating magic. Spells.

She was a witch. Cassian smirked at the thought. A beautiful, brilliant, witch goddess.

And she was his.

So why did Eris scuff the legs of his chair and sit up three inches straighter when she walked into the room.

And why did Helion have his hand on the small of her back as he lead her into the room.

Gods, she was beautiful. A streak of devastating black silk in the sea of the white-clad Day courtiers.

Her hair, brighter than when she left, more gold from the hours he knew she spent in Helion’s sun-drenched library, was braided up in its usual style.

The dress had a collar that molded around her neck and then dipped into a sweat heart neckline just at the base of her throat. Long sleeved and floor length.

Devastating.

And then she took a step forward.

The left side of the dress split open to reveal a shock of creamy white skin that looked like porcelain against the dark fabric. Cassian took a hard breath in when she moved again. The slit went up to her hip. Not her thigh. Her fucking hip.

Nope.

“Control yourself,” Cassian growled in reaction to the scent that was leaching off of Eris as the High Lord of Autumn stared at his mate.

Cassian flew out of his chair. Making it across the room in three long strides and carefully pulling his mate from out of Helion’s grasp.

“Hello, Nes.” Cassian murmured in her ear, pressed a kiss to her temple, and subtly, wrapped his wing around the left side of her body to cover up the slit.

Not subtle enough, however, as Nesta simply smirked in response and ran her finger down the membrane until his wing, and the rest of his body, trembled. “I’ve missed you.”

“Gods I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, General.” Helion smirked, sidling up right beside Nesta.

“I assume I have you to thank for this dress,” Cassian narrowed his eyes.

“Your mate is a brilliant, incredible, extraordinary female.” Helion winked, “But I still like having pretty things to look at while we work.”

“Call me a pretty thing one more time and I’ll blast you with the offensive spell I’m going to work on next.”

Helion smiled, “Oh how I love that fire. Don’t get all growly with me, General. I’d never think to steal her away into my bed. Without you, that is.”

“In your dreams.” Cassian’s body was vibrating, but he knew Helion was just being Helion. And he didn’t deserve the jealous rage storming through Cassian to be unleashed on him.

Cassian took Nesta’s hand and brought her to their seats.

“Wait,” Cassian raised an eyebrow. “You need a High Lord to develop spells. Your connection to the Mother and their connection to the Court comes together to make the spells. Balance, you said.”

“You remembered, A+ my love.”

“No. I mean… an offensive spell. Are you working with Rhys?”

“No,” Nesta smirked.

“But that kind of magic only comes from Night, Winter, and-“

“I’ll be sure to control myself, while she’s a guest of Autumn, Brute.” Eris had never looked so smug in his life. And that was a high bar.

“I do hope it’s Lucien.” Cassian said, deathly calm.

“What?”

“The brother who the magic chooses to be High Lord after I fucking murder you.” Cassian shrugged, “I hope it’s Lucien.”

Me at that last line:

SJM, Apparently, for no reason:

#nessian #drabbles open #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #acosf #eris vanserra #helion #gwynriel #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar

[sunflowermoonshinewrites]

AO3

“What if,” Cassian began quietly, slowly stroking a finger up the side of Nesta’s arm. He buried his face in her hair, pulling her closer to him before continuing, “we aren’t mates.”

A look, something of confusion and hurt, flashed across Nesta’s face. Cassian felt a sudden rush of guilt, worried that his poorly timed words may have given her the wrong impression. He continued on, “I’m not saying I don’t want to be with you! I do. I mean, what if we say fuck the mating bond and just choose to be together.”

Nesta looked up at him with wide eyes, “I don’t understand what you are saying.”

“You said that you felt like your choice was taken out of the equation… with the bond I mean. But, Nesta, I’ve seen the bond go wrong and I can tell you that a mating bond and loving someone are entirely unrelated. So,” Cassian paused because he knew this next part was going to hurt the primal part of him that screamed to claim, screamed mine, mine, mine, my mate, my mate, my mate any time he was near Nesta, “what if we never accept the bond. But instead, we just chose to be together.”

Nesta considered this for a long time, watching as Cassian's hand continued its lazy strokes across her arm and stomach. “What would we be then?” She finally asked.

“Lovers? Friends? Maybe husband and wife, if you’re ever dumb enough to marry me,” Cassian’s heart swelled at Nesta’s soft chuckle as he kept talking, “Or nothing. Maybe we don’t need a name. Maybe it is just you and me. Forever.”

Nesta caught Cassian’s hand and pulled it towards her while hooking her leg around his, pulling him as close as possible. She wanted to make sure every part of them touched as she carefully considered his words before responding with, “Forever.”

Cassian’s eyes welled slightly as he pressed another kiss into Nesta’s hair and repeated, “Forever.”

-

Note: This is a scene taken from a larger AU story line that I've been working on where Cassian loses his wings after the war and Nesta is struggling with PTSD so they go to Illyria together for a joint healing journey. But it has quickly become an overwhelming monster of random scenes that are half written and the rest is still in my head. So some day I'll work up the courage to start posting that. But until then, enjoy this little piece I wrote that I feel like stands on its own.

#nesta x cassian #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fic #nessian fanfiction #sunflowermoonshinewrites

[blueunoias]

Nesta is having her period and horrible day and she just want to go home. Then she and Cassian get in fight bc of something stupid (like Cassian has ate nestas chocolate or smth) and then she just starts crying. So like angst, comfort and yeah🤭

Ooooh, thank you for my first ask. I love this prompt! I'll do my best for you. Let me know if you want more modern au or canon!

For context Cassian was away for a day or two, Nesta had a bad day with her trauma. Nessian angst, comfort and fluff. Enjoy!

Cassian was exhausted when he'd gotten home from Windhaven his wings were worn out, his muscles ached in pain and all he wanted was to see his beautiful mate and sleep in her loving arms.

That would have to wait a bit however.

The family was having dinner at the River House, he quickly showered and changed, excited to finally be reunited with his mate, family and friends.

But mostly his mate.

Stepping into the house, he heard the booming laughter from the living room everyone was sat by the fire, this immediately set an alarm off in Cassian's brain.

As his eyes scanned the room, he found Mor relaxing on a lounge chaise, bottle of wine in hand.

Feyre on Rhys lap on a velvet arm chair.

Lucien and Elain were sat on the carpet by the coffee table wrapped in each others arms.

Amren was in her own chair nursing a glass of dark red ruby wine, with Varian at her feet massaging her ankles

Then his eyes caught to Azriel who stood in the far back of the room carerfully watching over Nesta who seemed like was trying to keep herself together.

Her posture was shrunk, her eyes were glazed and hollow, her breaths were small and heavy.

Cassian could see Nesta, his fierce, fearless mate, cowering into herself, drowning without someone to anchor her.

Suddenly noticing his presence, everyone in the room greeted him with cheerful ebullience.

Cassian politely greeted them and immediately made him path to his mate, ignoring Mor asking him to join her on the chaise or Rhys questions on his trip.

He had no intention of doing any of that. He had another mission.

"Hey sweetheart." He kneeled down in front of Nesta, gently putting his hands on her knees, rubbing delicate circles with his thumb.

Nesta slowly looked up and her gaze was suddenly icy and cold it chilled the room.

"She's been like this for a while." Azriel spoke lowly and quietly only for Cassian to hear.

Worry rushed through Cassian, his first primal instinct was immediately to take her home, hold her and comfort her.

Every protective Fae bone in his body wanted to soar out of there her in his arms, but calmly he took her hands pulled her up.

"I'm taking Nesta home." He announced making his way with an unresponsive Nesta to the exit. "I'll see you later."

"But you just got here." Mor pouted.

"Come on Cass. Stay a bit." Rhys asked.

"You both can always stay the night." Feyre offered generously.

"No. We're going home. And no more fires when I'm not here." He growled, the anger betraying him that they lit a fire and didn't account for Nesta's traumatized behavior.

Without another word he took Nesta and flew them back home to the House of Wind.

Once they were in the room, the House immediately procured warm tea and blankets for Nesta.

She walked silently to the bathroom, she had still to talk to him, still to touch him, still to even acknowledge him.

The fear was beginning to eat him up inside.

He followed her to their bathroom, finding Nesta standing like a ghost in the middle of the room.

Cassian stormed his way towards her, turning her body to his, searching her face for answers.

"Nesta, sweetheart. Talk to me, love." He said softly, cupping her face in his hand.

Then she pushed his hand away, twisting something in his gut.

"Nesta, what's wrong?" She still wouldn't meet his gaze.

Silence for a long stretch of a moment, until she finally opened her mouth and he finally heard her sweet voice.

"You took it."

"What?"

"You took it." She shoved him weakly in the chest, not moving him at all, but her voice grew louder and became glacial ice.

"Nesta what the fuck?" He growled, this was not the homecoming he was expecting.

"You took my book Cassian! You took my book." She shoved him again. Her face was rage, fury, mixed in with a hint of sadness?

"What the fuck? Your book?"

"Yes. My book. My book. The one you gifted me. You took it!." She shouted into his face, her breathing turned ragged.

"You're acting crazy over a fucking book?"

"Don't talk to me like that," she growled, barring her teeth. "You took my book."

"Calm the fuck down, alright. What the hell is wrong with you? You have lot's of books why the fuck are freaking out over one book?"

At this Nesta balked, her face turned red to pale, her eyes went hollow, suddenly tears started running down her eyes.

Sobs broke out of his mate, and Cassian was so utterly horrified.

Afraid of hurting her more and taken aback with confusion he stilled in his stop.

"It's not just a book." She cried, more tears danced down her face, agony twisted on her beautiful features, he felt Nesta's hurt through the bond and his own tearing his heart.

"Nes–"

"I need it! I needed the book. And took it. It was the only thing that keeps me grounded when you're not here, and you took it with you and my heart."

"Sweetheart." Cassian whispered, daring to take a step toward the devastating female, her took her head and cradled her to his chest, she continued to sob and he let her get it out.

He could see the tension in her shoulders fade away as she released the pain she'd been holding in all day.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Nesta my love." He apologized into her hair, pressing kisses to her crown. "I'm sorry."

He didn't know how long he and Nesta stood there holding each other, embraced in each other's arms, but finally Nesta's sobs subsided, her breathing calmed.

"Bad day?" He asked softly, leaning away to cup her beautiful face in his calloused hands.

She nodded solemnly against his embrace.

"Bad day. And you weren't here." More tears danced down her pale ivory skin, her blue grey eyes shined in the moonlight.

Even in sadness, Nesta was still the most beautiful creature he's ever set his ancient eyes on.

"And– and then with the fire and all the talking and voiced it was, it just was too much. I didn't– I couldn't handle it without you there."

He gently wiped her tears with his thumbs, leaning in to press kisses under her cheeks.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. I'm so sorry. It won't happen again." He promised, holding her to his chest again, arm wrapped around her waist the other hand brushing out her braided hair.

"You know I'm always here for you. I got your back Nesta.

"I missed you." She confessed quietly, her arms tighter around his waist.

"I know, I know. I missed you too. So much."

"It's hard when you're not here sometimes."

"It's hard for me too." He breathed. "Not being with you. You're my anchor too Nesta."

As much as he loved his fiery sassy Nesta, he loved when Nesta could open her heart to him and be so vulnerable even if it took a little screaming to get there.

"I'm sorry for– well for freaking out. The way I did."

"Don't apologise, Nes." He pulled away just to look down and smile at her. Taking her hand he led her back into the bedroom.

"Thank you for being my anchor." She said, in which he grinned in response, conveying all the words with a simple look.

Always. Nesta. Always.

"Come on sweetheart. Let's get to bed." He said pressing a soft warm kiss to her full lips, rousing a small bashful smile from his female.

Sleep came easy to Cassian, with Nesta calm and soothed wrapped up in his arm, her arms wrapped around his, her pretty head laying on his chest.

"I love you, Cass." His mate whispered into the night.

He pulled even closer to his firm body, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I love you too, Nes."

In this life and the next.

#nessian #drabble #ask box

[verifiefangirl]

Baby Bats: Elriel edition

Baby bats: Illyrian steppes edition

Baby bats: Style edition AU

Can be read with shadow ties for context

When Az would see those smug grins on his brother faces he knew it was gonna be one of those days.

He was so not ready to deal with any bullshit that they were going to throw at him

He would eye them warily while sitting on the bench, donning his training gear

Cassian and Rhys would be nudging each other like two little school boys while pointedly staring at Elain.

Azriel finally had enough.

“What?” He snapped. The veins in his arms protruding with tension.

The Illyrian bastards just stared back at him innocently.

“Elain huh?” Cassian would drawl.

At which point our baby bat would stand up to his full height. Looking all menacing and delicious, shirtless.

“What about her?” He asked through gritted teeth.

Rhys coughed a laugh into his fist and look skyward.

“Didn’t know she had it in her....” Cassian trailed off.

“But now we all now what she has in her-“

“Cass, you’re about to be a dead man walking-“

“And it’s not Lucien.” He finished, disregarding Rhys warning.

“Oh fuck!” Was all Rhys managed to get out before shadows exploded everywhere.

“Rhysie!” Cassian squealed with terror as Az tackled him to the ground.

Az was ready to go to war with his brother. He rained down a couple of blows before a peaceful look overcame his features. An evil glint glimmered in those swirling hazel eyes.

Rhys could practically scent the fear coming off Cas from that look. Even he was unnerved from the sudden change as he stepped in to haul Az off him.

“You so much as look at her wrong, Cas. I will choke my shadows down your throat so you can’t utter any more of sexual innuendos.”

He tapped his brother’s cheek lovingly twice before leaning close to his ear. Their face side by side.

“I won’t punish you.” Now Az was the one wearing the innocent smile.

“I’ll just have a nice long chat with Nesta Archeron.”

Rhys whoops of laughter made the grin on his face grow wider

Cassian face blanched of all colour. Getting his act together real quick he let out a light laugh.

“C’mon Az, you know you’re my favourite.”

Rhys squawked in outrage

Az would roll off him and brush himself off elegantly, turning that piercing stare on Rhys next.

“I think I might even invite our highlady.”

“Wait, wait. Now hold up a second. I didn’t do anything.”

“Shut up Rhys!” Cassian snapped.

“You shut up! I didn’t call him my favourite and then provoke him.”

The two Illyrians started squabbling like a married couple. Az let out an exasperated sigh. It was honestly a wonder that those two managed to get such amazingly, beautiful, strong women.

He had slipped away while they were mid arguing without them noticing.

When they finally came to investigate his whereabouts after arguing about what was the best way to bribe their shadowsinger. They found they were too late.

There Az was, on the rug in, front of the fireplace with Feyre and Nesta flanked on each side. A wine glass cradled in each of their hands, an assortment of meats and cheeses laid before them.

The trio were laughing and enjoying themself until they caught sight of the two Illyrians lurking in the shadows with ashen faces.

Their mates faces turned blank in an instant, their eyes alight with fire and wrath.

Cassian and Rhys stumbled over each other to escape. Coming up with a new plan to soften their mates up.

Az smirked into his glass as he watched his bumbling brothers disappear.

“So, tell us again why you wanted us to fake being mad at Rhys and Cas?” Feyre asked, arching her brow.

“I’m sure they’ll let you know. I just handed them the rope and they are gonna hang themselves.” He cackled. At least Nesta and Feyre will be pampered before heads rolled.

Tags:

@julesherondalex​ @jemma-nessian-and-elriel​ @maastrash​ @empress-ofbloodshed​ @wolffrising​@azrielismycinnamonrollprimary​ @sezkins79​ @poisonous00​ @humanexile​ @sleeping-and-books​ @highladyofidris​ @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn​ @rhysanoodle​ @b00kworm​ @mysweetvilllain​ @nite0wl29​ @mirainthedark05​  @negativenesta​

#azriel #acowar #acotar #acomaf #elriel #sjm #sarah j maas #verified tag #nesta archeron #acofas #verified hc #cassian #rhysand #baby bats #feysand #nessian #baby bats: elriel edition

[onthesandsofdreams]

The Summoning [3/5]

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn Rating: T Summary: ‘Fuck’ she thought, out of all the stupid and reckless things to do, she opted for summoning a demon. One that now claimed that he was her mate.  Words: 1120 Notes: Witches & Demons AU. Tagging: @mousedetective

Read @ AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Jyn grabbed her clothes and rushed back to the bathroom. ‘Fuck’ she thought, out of all the stupid and reckless things to do, she opted for summoning a demon. One that now claimed that he was her mate. She leaned against the door for a minute, her clothes in her arms, she was thankful that for once, her granny pajamas.

She washed her face quickly, she opted for cold water in order to wake fully. She nearly winced at the shock of the cold, but she kept on going. And when she finished, she leaned on the zinc and looked at herself in the mirror.

“Well, Erso,” she told at her own reflection. “You’ve really fucked this one up.”

She kept looking at the mirror, and then sighed, there was no point in delaying the inevitable. She quickly changed to her jeans and shirt, once more glad that she’d opted for a bra yesterday. When she opened the door to face Cassian, she found him sitting on the bed, staring around curiously.

“Never seen a bedroom before?” She tried to tease, she was not going to back down and she wasn’t going to let this very attractive demon take her words.

Cassian shook his head, “No,” he looked at her and at her confusion, he continued. “My kind don’t leave our dimension, not unless we’re summoned.”

It was an odd thing, she felt pity for him. She knew that demon dimensions tended to be harsh and cruel, but now here he was, sitting on her bed and his whole demeanor spoke of softness. It was strange, to not have to fear a demon. “Ah,” she said. “Would you like something to eat? I am quite hungry myself.”

Cassian gave her a small smile, “Yes, thank you.”

“Follow me then,” She walked out of the room, hoping that this demon would not jump at her while her back is turned. “I hope you don’t mind leftover cold Chinese.”

“That should not be a problem, I can eat anything.”

She freezes, stops and looks back. “Anything?”

Cassian seems to know what she’s asking, for he’s quick to lift his hands in a motion of surrender, “Except humans, that’s not the kind of demon I am.”

That reassures her a little, so she nods and continues to walk with him all the way into the kitchen. They do not speak, her mind is still a little troubled and she’s still not quite sure how to react at this whole thing. She makes a beeline towards the leftovers, but she frowns when she realizes that it’s too little for two grown stomachs, and she can be a demon herself with not enough food. She sighs, “Listen, there’s not enough, but there is a place near, would that be fine.”

Cassian nods, “I trust your judgment.”

She nods, “Well then, come along.” For the first time, she notices that he’s dressed differently, no longer in the shorts he wore when he laid with her, instead, he wears jeans, shirt and shoes. He would look no different than the average man on the street, which is a very good thing.

They leave the house, the small café is two blocks away, and they walk side by side. She allows herself to toss some glances at Cassian with the corner of her eye. She does her best not to think of how safe she feels with him. It is such a strange sense, it’s like they had known each other for years on end. She’s lost in thought, that the sudden growl startles her, “What?”

Cassian is standing still, two paces behind her and looking around to the other street. The face he makes is one that promises a few unpleasantness. “Someone’s following you.”

She feels queasy, and while she’s not afraid, she wishes she could run and hide. “Are you sure?” She can’t quite help the tremor that comes in her voice, and she rushes to his side and the moment she does, Cassian tosses an arm around her and she, on instinct, draws further into him.

“Yes.” Cassian growls. “I overheard him reporting he’d found you. That he’d keep his eyes on you. Want to go home?”

Does she? The answer is yes. She has lived her life avoiding her father’s friends. And now, here the one moment where she lowers her guard for a moment, they catch up with her. But she’d be damned if she was going to let them win. “No.” She say with a calm she doesn’t feel. “I want food, and you need to eat too, I have an idea, but first food.”

Cassian looks at her, and she looks at him. There’s an intensity in his eyes that leaves her breathless. Fuck, he looks hot. Then he nods, “As you wish. Lead on.”

She doesn’t pull away from him, but they continue their walk. The café is blessedly near empty, so they take a table in a corner and sit down. Cassian looks at the menu with curiosity in his features. “Ask for whatever you want,” she tells him. “Really, pick what sounds good.”

In the end, she orders the English breakfast and Cassian asks for the same thing. He opts for orange juice and she coffee, she needs the caffeine to do what she’s planning. They eat in peace, Cassian doesn’t growl during the whole duration, but he does look outside and whispers, “He’s still out there.”

She grits her teeth, she hates them all. So, she drinks the coffee and eats her food slowly, and in the end, even when she’s full, she orders a muffin, she will need the extra calories, the spell she’s about to pull out will take much from her, “I will make us invisible,” she tells him right before she bites into the muffin.

Cassian’s brows shot upwards.

She grins, and she knows it’s a feral one that would scare Bodhi and the rest of her friends, but Cassian simply stares at her, “The last secret my mom taught me.”

Realization dawns on Cassian and he nods.

When the food is done, and she has paid, they take the decide to take the longer road, and as they are walking around a corner, Cassian tightens his hold on hers and she cast the spell over them. It’s not full invisibility, but more like camouflage and now, they blend into the walls, plants and fences of the quiet neighborhood.

It is then, that Cassian points towards a man dressed in complete black. Like one of those who came for her father so long ago. She hisses, and Cassian nods at her reaction.

They want her, but they are not going to get her.

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