#nyx is obnoxious

[rhapsodyred-writes]

What DND classes would your Rent-Free's choose if they were to start a game together? How funny would them playing a tabletop RPG together be?

Sans - DM Red - Barbarian Violet - Druid Nyx -Rogue Ash - Cleric Nightmare - Warlock Fresh - Bard

Only chaos lives here now. (whoops my hand slipped)

“for the last time, it’s a reinforced steel door.” The sighs behind the DM’s screen were the only indication of Sans’s thoughts on the matter.

“no kinda reinforced steel is any match for me!” Red was all bravado.

“alright, roll to break down the door.”

The sound of a rolling die was immediately followed by silence.

“red, what’d you roll?” Sans asked, already smirking behind his screen.

“i don’t wanna talk about it.”

Chuckles broke out around the table and Sans peeked over his screen to see Red’s die displaying a proud 2.

“hmm, with your +2 strength modifier that’s a 4, so…” He trailed off teasingly and watched as Red’s eyelights flared before he settled back down in his seat.

“i don’t break the door.”

“you sure don’t.”

More laughter spread around the table as Red’s face turned, well, red.

“an impenetrable door, huh?” Nyx leaned back in his seat, looking awfully smug.

“yeah i’d like to see you break it down.” Red growled.

“oh no, this is a job for finesse.”

“guys seriously, this is a locked door.” Sans was beginning to sound tired behind his DM screen.

“yeah, and i have a lock picking set,” Nyx replied, leaning forward.

Sans sighed deeply and leaned his skull against one hand. “alright, roll to lock pick.”

The sound of a rolling die was followed by…

“are you funking kidding me?” Red sounded both surprised and outraged, but he was barely heard over the sounds of Nyx’s triumphant cackling.

“yes! nat 20!” Nyx slammed his hands down on the table, jostling everyone else's dice.

“i’m never dming a game for you guys again.”

–

“so you’re gonna need to ask the barkeep-”

“i wanna seduce them.”

“nyx, i swear to-”

“come on, it’s my stars-given right!”

Sans sighed, deep and long-suffering. 

“fine, role persuasion.”

The sound of a rolling die was followed shortly by-

“FUNK!”

Which was then followed by assorted laughter.

–

“before you stands a dire wolf.” 

“i cast animal friendship.” Violet didn’t hesitate a second before making his intentions clear.

“you-” Sans cut himself off. “alright, you’ve befriended the dire wolf. what now?”

Vi shrugged. “i just wanted to pet it.”

A snorted laugh was quickly covered up - so quickly that it was hard to tell who it was. Whoever it was though, knew well enough not to poke too much fun.

Red, however, was never prone to subtlety.

“and if any of you funkers hurts it, i’ll turn that back on ya!” He glowered evenly around the table, at five people who most likely had no intentions of hurting Vi’s temporary pet wolf.

“Bro, unrad.” Fresh was the only one who spoke. “Ain’t any of us gonna mess with his dog, no need for threats, yo.”

“red relax.” Vi sighed, rolling his eye. “fresh is right, we’re all on the same side here. and even if someone did want to hurt it, it’s a fictional wolf, it's not real.”

–

It was nearing the stage in a session when Red usually became belligerent and fighty, and by the looks on the faces around the table, no one really wanted to deal with it.

“i’m just sayin’ it’s a dumb rule, ok?!”

“no one’s fighting you on that, you don’t have to yell.” Ash’s voice was quiet, but his tone was tense. “you don’t like the rules, get creative.”

“yeah,” Nyx piped up. “i once heard of someone who used a summon water spell inside an enemy to basically blow them up."

It didn’t seem like Red was listening, and his chair was beginning to creak in his grasp.

“ok, if you can’t calm down, i’m gonna ask you to step away.” Sans didn’t want to issue these kinds of warnings, but with Red and his temper, it had become somewhat of a necessary measure.

“what?!” As usual, Red didn’t take it well.

“Broski chill, it’s just a game, yo!” 

Instead of having the calming effect he’d intended, Fresh’s words seemed to make Red burn even hotter, but he didn’t have a chance to interrupt.

“Besides, last I checked, I can put ya ta sleep in game. All I gotta do is say da word.” His grin had turned devilish at some point, and without realizing it, Red gave an inch. Fresh took a mile. “If ya can’t settle down, I could take ya outta da game, real easy-like.”

“wait, no, you can’t do that!” 

“Can’t I? Look around, broski - no one here wants ta deal with ya whinin’ anymore. If ya think one of ya teammates’d wake ya after da kinda behaviour ya showin’, ya gonna be real disappointed.”

Red glanced around at the others around the table. Vi was wincing, fidgeting with his hands in a way Red knew meant he was trying to keep from touching at his head injury.

“alright fine.” He deflated and sat back in his seat. “i’m not happy about it though.”

It was then that he noticed a flash of purple slip back behind Fresh’s shades as Fresh settled back into his own chair, every trace of a threat now gone from his demeanour.

“A’ight, so we good?”

Red nodded. Fresh grinned.

“See how nice it is when we all get along?”

Terrifying.

–

“I don’t suppose you could heal me properly?”

“nightmare, all due respect - shut the funk up.”

–

“ok,” Sans started, holding back a laugh. He’d never expected to have to ask this. “does anyone want to trade dice with ash?”

Nyx and Red broke into snickers that had the atmosphere in the room take a worryingly electrified turn.

“don’t say that like it’s my fault my dice are mutinying.” Ash grumbled, glaring at the die that had just barely healed Nightmare from the last battle. This wasn’t the first time any of his dice had screwed him though. The one he used to roll for healing was consistently giving him low rolls, often just enough to do some minor healing, and that was after adding the modifier.

“Might I suggest getting a new set of dice?” Nightmare asked.

Ash grumbled a few unintelligible swears. The only indication that they were swears at all was the unholy quacking sound that censored them.

“here.” Sans leaned over his screen and deposited a few replacement dice in front of Ash. “stars know this party needs a cleric who can heal.”

–

“i don’t funkin’ believe this.”

“Is something the matter?”

“well, not “the matter” per se, it’s more like-”

“how’re you acin’ all your damn rolls?!”

Nightmare glanced up to where Red was leaning over the table, glaring at his dice as though they’d somehow offended him. To Nightmare’s right, Ash was silently simmering, too proud to use the dice that Sans had supplied, and past Ash Sans was smiling somewhat apologetically. 

“it’s not bad, just…weird.” Sans said, his expression turning sheepish. “it’s, uh, a little uncanny actually.”

“i can’t even pass a seduction check, and he’s funking carrying this party single-handedly! sorry fresh.” 

Fresh accepted Nyx’s apology with a nod.

At last Ash spoke up.

“trade dice with me.”

#mys friend #red answers #red writes #the dice are never in ash's favour #nyx is obnoxious #fresh is the peacekeeper #sans the skeleton #red #fell!sans #violet #horror!sans #nyx #killer!sans #ash #dust!sans #nightmare!sans #fresh!sans #undertale au #red's rent frees #dungeons & dragons #cw swearing

[thesistersarcheron]

i just know the night court's inner circle would be a turkey trot family if they lived in a world with thanksgiving... i can't forgive that

#nessian get their thanksgiving catered but still wake up obnoxiously early for a pre-turkey trot 5k warm up #feysand are already awake with nyx so they might as well do the turkey trot with the baby in a $$$$$ running stroller #azriel trades off doing the trot and picking up the catered meal #mor and elain are the only safe members of this family #mor pretends to be too hungover to run and elain just refuses #even nuala and cerridwen run and they're the ''surprise'' first and second place runners every year

[theonyxranger]

just sent this to all the coworkers i have who are younger than i am

#nyx post #i am obnoxious on purpose

[hauntedwitch04]

Lucifer I

Nyx Acheron x reader

Words: about 5.0k words

Warnings: blood, death, murder, sad things in general, shitty biological family

Author's note: This is a request by a follower on Wattpad, that I personally loved and I wrote this during the night. It's not complited, the second part will be out soon, but it was getting to long. Hope you like it loves, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

Buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Say one more word and I swear I'll cut out your tongue." You say looking at the young prince of the night, who reciprocates by looking at you amused.

"Uncle Az, tell your hound dog to stay put." Nyx replies, as he rises from the chair in the meeting room we are in. For a moment you forget about him and end up looking around, and you wonder if little te knew this would happen to her in the future, if she would believe it. When Azriel found you, hiding in a cave not far from the Illyrian camp from which you had escaped, he was shocked at how long you had lasted alone in the woods. It had been weeks now since you had managed to escape what was left of my family, yet you still had not managed to wash away completely the blood of your sisters that had remained under your nails.

After your parents had died, my father in battle and my mother in childbirth, the chief of our tribe had decided to assign you to the only relatives left for you and your sisters namely your uncles, evil and mean people who had only money in mind and how to accumulate more and more of it, and because of this however small you were, you had to start working right away. Also living with you was our mother's mother, a bigoted and unintelligent woman bound by the stupid traditions of the barbaric people of which I am a part, who from early on you knew would present a threat to your wings. Not a day went by when she did not complain that you had not yet bled or find ways to make it happen, but you in response had studied every book and document you could about it and made sure to find every remedy you could to delay the arrival of what would spell the end of your last freedom. And the same you did with your sisters when they began to grow up, honoring the memory of your parents by asking them for help every night.

After spending years and years being a slave, on your twentieth birthday you woke up with red-stained blankets and immediately a new fear took its place in your body. You could already hear voices coming toward the room you shared with your sisters, and without a second thought you had jumped up waking the other two girls and telling them to take what you had prepared to run away. Within minutes you were already running through the woods, looking for a safe place to live for a while until you figured out how to do it. Over time you had also learned to hunt, and so you were not afraid to live in the woods; what you were afraid of was your family.

A little over an hour had passed when you heard voices coming from behind.

"Baby, I don't want to hurt you. You know we have to, it's time for you to become a real woman." Yelled your uncle in an obnoxious, sarcastic voice, and you only increased your pace, which soon turned again into a hopeless race dragging your sisters toward what you hoped would be salvation.

"Do you really think those wings make you somebody! You are nothing if a little slut trying to escape from a future that is already written! Hurry up and I promise I won't rip your wings off, just keep playing hide-and-seek and I'll take all the time I can to do what I want with you!" Yells your uncle again, before laughing out loud. "Do you think we haven't found your stupid plant books, to delay your bleeding, do you think we're that stupid? That alone could be enough of a death sentence for you, do you really want to make your situation worse!?" He continued, and you felt a cold chill run down your spine. For a moment you thought about turning yourself in, then the image of all those girls you had seen suffer or even die for what they had done to their wings came into your mind, and so you began to run even harder, until you found yourself in front of a cave. You had found it a while ago, trying to catch something in the woods, and it had seemed like a good hiding place. You told your sisters to go inside, while you went for a second to retrieve some weapons you had hidden in a hollow log two minutes away from there, intimating to them to keep quiet if they did not want to be discovered. Yet all was in vain.

One minute. Sixty seconds. Twenty blinks. One moment.

It only took a moment to kill your sisters. Your uncle found them, and because they tried to escape he killed them on the spot, stabbing them in the stomach.

You arrived at the moment when you saw the youngest among the three of you fall, the one who being the eldest daughter you had the pleasure of holding first, while the middle one was already on the ground lifeless. You saw in her eyes the life slip away, like sand running through your fingers.

"So you won't run away like your useless sister." Said your uncle, looking at her handiwork before turning away. "Where is he right now, anyway? He abandoned you, he doesn't even have the courage to face me, yet he has the courage to leave you here to die." He continued.

"Turn around asshole, and face your fate." Whispers your sister, dying, amid blood spit on the ground and moans of pain. "I hope his blade is as sharp as your tongue." She continues, before telling you with her lips that she loved you, and then letting the life that animated her flow out of her.

Your uncle turned and for a moment his face was crossed with pure and simple fear, coming the anger that animated your face. A few simple sword movements, and in a few seconds he was in front of you on his knees, praying to your goodness, which in his regard had left you years ago. Blood gushed from his lips like lava from a volcano as you watched life fade away behind his tar-black pupils.

"I hope you will suffer as much as you made us suffer, and that Mother will have a special punishment for you. You killed the only family I had left, and for that I will take from you what you took from me: life." You said, looking down into his eyes. He spat in your face in response.

"Do you think you are so much better than me? You too will take the life of another human being, even your hands will be stained with blood, you and I are not much different." He said, before spitting more blood at my feet. "Besides, do you really think they will not notice that I am not going back to the village? Do you really think they won't come looking for me and find you here with all these dead people? Do you think you'll get away with it? O deluded little bitch, they will kill you, and then there we will be in the same cage before Lucifer."

"See you in hell then." You whispered before finally cutting his neck and letting his blood create a pool at your feet.

For hours you felt like an automaton as you carried your uncle's body out of the cave and buried it not far from there. Once you had stowed away all the earth, you turned to where your sisters still lay and for the first time truly felt their death strike you with an axe blow to the chest, whereas before you were too busy still brooding over anger and revenge. In a few steps you found yourself on the ground, your hands grasping their bloody clothes as you clutched them to your chest, crying hot and bitter tears. You screamed in every language you knew against every deity you remembered, as you begged anyone to take you in their place and let them live their lives. You spent the whole night crying and screaming, so much so that by morning you had no voice left. Once the sun came up you realized what you looked like. Your arms were completely bloody, especially your hands, where blood had even gone under your fingernails. Long minutes passed before you conceived the fact that you had to bury your sisters as well. This time, however, was different. You found a beautiful clearing full of lavender flowers and laughed at the irony. You had always loved lavender very much, and your sisters always teased you about it, and now the place where they would find peace would be just that. You slowly dug two pits next to each other in the shade of a willow tree, and gently placed their bodies, wrapped in blankets, as tears continued to stream down your face. You looked one last time at their bodies, so small and helpless at that moment, before covering them with the earth. Once finished you lay there on top of them, waiting for the dead to come for you too, feeling guilty for their death and for killing a man, seeing the blood still staining your hands. You screamed, cried again as you had done the night before, then you heard a rustling in the plants, and like a vision your sisters appeared to you holding hands with your mother, surrounded by shadows. By now it had become night, but you did not even realize it too engrossed in crying.

Immediately you were frightened by the scene and jumped to your feet, then you calmed down and realized that you had not gone crazy, but there were really them in front of you. You ran toward them, and tried to hug each of them three times, failing, and falling all three times into the void. Immediately the tears came back to you.

"I thought I was dead. I thought I had atoned for my sins, and instead I'm still here. I don't deserve to live, please do something help me." You asked, kneeling in front of them, looking down, and at that moment you felt like a gust of wind settling on your shoulder, so you looked up and saw that your mother had placed her hand on his shoulder and was looking at you fondly.

"My child, do not think that our death is your fault. You, on the contrary, did everything you could do. You must keep fighting, you cannot let yourself go like this. You must live for us, too." She said, but you shook your head, not believing you could.

"I am not so strong mom, I allowed them to hurt them. I-I don't think I can go on alone anymore. I am not strong enough." You whisper, as you go back to slump on the ground.

"Don't even think that. You have come this far, you must live for us too. We will never abandon you, we will become your janitors." She said making a gesture to indicate the shadows that surrounded her and your sisters. As if they understood the topic of conversation they moved toward you, twisting like a snake along your arms, until they reached your ear and whispered something to you. You were not even surprised to understand them, no matter how surreal this situation was. You watched intently as those night-colored pythons came to life around you, until you looked up again and saw that your mother was now retreating with your sisters, back to where they had come from.

"Where are you going!? Don't leave me!" You screamed, getting up and running toward them, but the shadows held you, like worried hands holding someone dear.

"You can't follow us where we go love, now we have to go back where we came from, we have already been away too much according to the rules. Take care dear and remember we love you. Enjoy every second of your life, don't remember the past, create a new future." Those were your mother's last words to you as your sisters waved goodbye, also with tears in their eyes.

At that moment I became a shadowsinger.

And so you returned to being alone, in the middle of the night, surrounded by shreds of darkness that moved with a life of their own.

"My lady must go and wash the blood off her clothes, and she will attract wild animals." The shadows say in your ear, as they urge you to get up. You resist a little at first, to be guided by them, who like an invisible wet nurse took care of you, for the first few days where you still had to get used to the situation. A week later you were fully back to yourself, and nothing could stop you. You kept moving from one place to another so they would not find you until one morning you heard a rustling among the plants, but your shadows that time told you something different that struck you.

"Honey, this time the one chasing us is someone like you." They said, as you were setting a new trap to catch some small game.

"Like us, you mean another shadowsinger?" You asked confused, torn between wanting to escape and wanting to know.

"That's right honey." They replied, before going forward.

A few minutes passed before a man, an Illyrian, emerged from behind the plants, but you soon realized that you did not know him.

"Hello." He said first, smiling slightly as he put his hands forward to show you that he had no hidden weapons to hurt you. "I would just like to talk to you."

You looked at him wary, then you saw a shadow emerge from his back, exactly like those adorning your shoulders, and immediately you felt understood. You saw his shadows go to his ears, as if to report something to him, and immediately his eyes widened as his face changed, looking at you with sorry eyes and a sorrowful smile on his lips.

"You are also like me. "You affirmed as you approached, he without warning embraced you, holding your slender, exhausted body in his mighty arms.

"I'm sorry." He said in a choked voice as he gently stroked your back. "Who has passed away?" He asked, trying to understand how you had managed to get what for him was a curse.

"My mother and sisters. They failed to protect them. My mother I failed to save all those years ago, while the others I left alone, and my uncle killed them." You whispered, as you let go in his arms in a desperate cry.

"Then you really are the girl from the village they are looking for." He said as he looked into your eyes, and you saw tears forming in his, as if he also remembered at this moment a past and distant pain, still alive in him though. "They sent me to find you, saying that a crazy dangerous murderer, but I think they actually are." He continues laughing, before asking another question. "Where is your uncle?"

"I killed him." You said in a hard, impassive voice and then looked at him coldly, or at least tried to, but the fear you were feeling clearly shone through your eyes. "I will accept whatever punishment you want to give me, but please don't take me back there. I ran away because they wanted to clip my wings, and now I'm afraid of what they would have in store for me, and I suspect it's worse than death." You asked, as more tears ran down your face.

He shook his head, before taking off his jacket and laying it on your shoulders.

"My dear, you will come with me, I will never take you back to that shitty place." He said softly as he stroked your face, and for the first time you felt the scars adorning his palms, and you were shocked by the contrast between his soft voice and his rough skin.

"I am Azriel, the High Lord's chief spy, and you will come with me to Velaris, where I will teach you everything I know about the shadows we share. After all, I've always wanted a little sister, and I'm sure Cassian will be impressed with your skills as well." He said, as he pointed you to a place in the forest devoid of trees. "I have to warn you though, we're a little crazy as a family." He continued, but you froze.

"Wait, I have to do something first." You said before running one last time to that lavender field, to which you had gone every day to see your sisters.

"It's not goodbye, it's goodbye. I will be back soon, as soon as I can. I love you all. I will live for you." You confessed at their graves, amid sobs before returning to Azriel.

He looked at you with compassion and together you took off into the air, and only when you arrived in Velaris did you realize that your life had really changed, and that a new adventure was beginning.

"Hey baby all right?" You eventually hear Azriel's voice, concerned, as he leans over the table to take your hands. You are the only one with whom he shows physical affection, trusting only you, and of course Gwyn, whom you regard as a mother.

Over time your relationship has proven to be more like that between a father and a daughter than between a brother and a sister. He has from the very beginning taken care of you, and you of him at times when he needed it, you have always supported each other, and a bond flows between you that is stronger than just a blood bond. You look into his eyes and see his doubt gripping him, but it still does not invade your mind, leaving you space. Nyx also seems to have quieted down. You and he have never gotten along too well, ever since you first met. You have been part of the Inner circle for ten years now, but the two of you only met five years ago, since he was studying on the mainland before that.

He, from the beginning saw you as a rival, and even being a couple of years younger, felt that his place as a protected and beloved prince of the court was being undermined by you.

He never understood the real reason why his uncle took you with them, and that was also because you had never shared your story with anyone outside of Az and his mate, not wanting others to see you as weak.

"Yeah all right, I was thinking about how not to kill that asshole during the mission." You say, trying to sound convincing, and apparently succeeding because everyone is giggling, outside of Az and Nyx who don't look very convinced.

"Oh come on Lucifer, we both know that the better of the two is me." He tries to comment, but you can still read the uncertainty in his eyes not believing your words.

"In your dreams Acheron." You answer, trying to let the nickname pass.

The next day, at dawn you find yourself on a mission in the woods near where you had grown up. A feeling of fear covers your heart and mind ever since you set foot here. Like a flooding river, memories of your childhood wash over you. Rhysand didn't know this place was steeped in trauma for you, or he wouldn't have assigned it to you, but if you had told him, you would have proven yourself unequal to your role as his court's deputy spy chief, unable to separate work and private life.

"We need to go to an Illyrian camp nearby, apparently there has been some insubordination." Nyx tells you, not remembering that you were also at the meeting her father had to describe the mission. "Hey, you look pale, are you okay?" He asks worriedly, turning to look at you.

"Since when do you worry about me Acheron? Aren't you getting soft?" You say, stepping past him as with confident steps of someone who has been down that road a billion times before, you move like a snake, with elegance and fluidity, through the trees of the forest. Out of the corner of your eye you see the boy step into a trap, which has been there since you were a child, which an old hunter always puts in that hole.

"Be careful putting your foot there, there is a trap." You say atonically as you continue walking. He stops and looks carefully at where he was about to walk to see that indeed you were right.

"Well I'd say you're mellowing, too, honey. Is the cold-hearted witch thawing out?" He asks with amusement as you without stopping or turning around give him the middle finger.

"I love you too baby." He continues, in response to your gesture, and you shake your head in response as you can't suppress a silly little smile appearing on your face.

"How did you know there was a trap anyway, it was really very well hidden." Comments the prince of the night, as he takes great strides to catch up with you.

You pause for a second, thinking whether to tell him the truth or tell him to go to hell again. You don't know what is getting into you but this place makes your head spin, and you feel like a poor, lonely, helpless girl again. The shadows surround you like a shield since you arrived, as if they, too, sense the familiarity of that place. You look into his violet eyes, which in the little sunshine coming in through the tree foliage, take on a lavender-like hue, and again it feels as if a prick comes sharply into your stomach and knocks you to the ground.

You see in his expression concern and sincerity, and this sends your system into a tailspin, which, as if it were nothing, opens up a deep, private part of you to him.

"I grew up here, I know these woods well." You say not looking into his eyes, too caught up in your emotions that are running through you right now. The shadows close even tighter between you, almost creating a cocoon.

"I didn't know that." He replies.

"Nobody knows, nobody but Az and Gwyn." You counter.

"He found you here then." The boy affirms, while in the shadows he tries to look around.

"Yes, not far from here." And you almost can't hold between your lips <<and near here I buried my sisters, a little farther away instead is the cave where they died at the hands of my uncle, whom I killed and buried near there>>, but fortunately you manage to hold back.

A few seconds pass in which neither of you really knows what to say, until you decide to confess other things.

"Nyx, the village we are going to is the one I ran away from when I was 20 years old with my sisters. Everyone there hates me, but I don't even think they would recognize me, however, I wanted to tell you before you see doing something stupid and reckless for no reason. At least you know some context, it seemed right to tell you." You say as you resume walking, but he grabs one of your two wrists with his hand and stops you.

"How come you ran away?" He asks with a seriousness you think you've never seen in him before.

"They wanted to take away the only thing that made me free: my wings." You answer with equal seriousness as I see his jaw twitch in anger.

"Who wanted to do this to you? Your parents?" He asks as disgust is evident from his tone.

"No, it's a long story." You try to answer without giving too much information, but immediately you feel something, guilt, making its way inside you. "Maybe someday I will tell you, but this is neither the place nor the time to do so." You continue, before starting to move along the forest. Nyx does not counter and follows your steps silently, always, however, staying close to you and in silence, as if she has that at this moment, the slightest thing could destabilize you and that you need someone right now, who without your asking, should help you survive from drowning in your memories.

You arrive at the village shortly after, and for a moment you feel like you have traveled through time. Nothing has changed since you left, and that gives you the chills. Immediately people begin to look at you askance, and within seconds you find the village chief standing in front of you. He is still the same as when you were there, an elderly gentleman with poor eyesight and a big heart. He was the only one who supported your choice to keep your wings, but the council had overtaken him and there was nothing he could do about it, he had confessed to you once while your family was still waiting for you to bleed, but he was already deciding your future. He looks at you with squinted eyes, trying to focus on your figure.

"Hello, we are here about the small riot that happened here a few days ago. The High Lord sent us." Says Nyx casually, with a smile on his face. You had decided before you left not to say your identities right away, so as not to arouse hatred as soon as you arrived, but you obviously hadn't told Nyx about why, though now he knows.

"Oh certainly, this way guys." Says the elderly gentleman, smiling at us. "But you didn't have to go to all that trouble, it was just a bunch of stupid kids who decided to make some trouble. There was no need for the High Lord to send any of his people, but we really appreciate you coming." He continues, as we cross the main street of the village.

"High Lord Rhysand is keen to let it be known that he is always available to his subjects when needed." Nyx replies very diplomatically, as he has been taught. You stop and stare at him, as you walk along, and think that deep down all those girls falling at his feet are not wrong. He is one of the most handsome boys you have ever seen, if not the most handsome of them all, with those violet eyes and perpetually disheveled night-colored hair. He is smart, but at the same time reckless, funny and kind, in short the perfect boy everyone dreams of. Immediately you freeze, and blush when you realize what you're thinking. You hear the shadows laughing in your ear, hearing your thoughts, and you under your breath curse them. You look around and realize you've stopped in front of what used to be your little piece of heaven: the bookstore. It was a tiny, musty place, and full of dusty old shelves, and run by a sweet and loving little lady, whom you treated like children.

When you were little, you spent hours in there, so much so that eventually the lady hired you as an assistant, making sure that your aunt and uncle didn't force you to stop going to that place to go to work.

It was never very busy, but it had a small circle of trusted customers.

Now, however, it is a ruined place. The window glass is broken, and the now-worn sign has fallen down. The shelves have all fallen, one on top of the other like bodies of soldiers wounded in battle, piled on top of each other. A dusty mist fills the store, while on the ground one can still see marks left by flames, while nothing but ashes remain of the books.

Nyx seeing that you stopped, stops in turn, apologizing to the village chief, and coming to see if you were okay.

"Hey, are you okay Lucifer? If you want, you can wait in one spot, and I'd be back to you in five minutes, I swear I'd be quick and then we'd run right out of here and not look back. You don't have to do all this if you can't." The boy says sympathetically as he takes your hand in his. That gesture makes you turn toward him, and then look at the older gentleman who has also turned back, and he looks at you smiling.

"I felt like I knew that smile." He says, looking at you as he strokes your face with one hand. "It seems like a lifetime since you and your sisters left. I see that life has treated you well." He continues happily, and you feel a pang in your heart.

"Life apparently has only treated me well." You say while remaining vague, and immediately he seems to understand, and with a sweet gesture, typical of a grandfather toward his granddaughter, he kisses your forehead lovingly.

"I'm sorry little witch." He whispers, and you smile at the nickname, which he had given you when you were still playing at making potions out of mud in the camp.

Nyx meanwhile was looking at you more and more confused, but he does not ask you anything, realizing that this is not the time for his questions. The shadows move agitated, too caught up in all those emotions.

"What happened to the bookstore?" You ask worriedly. "Is the lady okay?"

"She passed away shortly after you left. Her family did not take care of the store and let vandals destroy it." Confessed the elderly gentleman, sorry.

You are about to respond, angry at the people who allowed part of your childhood to be set on fire, when you hear a voice from down the street that chills the blood in your veins, that of your aunt.

...to be continued...

TAGLIST

@winchestergirl222

• @nothingimportentreally

• @duda

• @itsmeseph

• @lys-neyr8

• @nyotamalfoy

• @anonimusy

• @marigold-morelli

• @luna-1-3-5

• @esposadomd

• @thotd-f1

• @humanpersonlasttimeichecked

@backups-backups

@daeneeryss

@hjgdhghoe

@theviewfromtheotherside

@e_dollly

#acotar x reader #imagine acotar #nyx acheron x reader #nyx archeron x reader #hauntedwitch04's writing

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter vi – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,500+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

Eris did as he promised to the High Lady and Lord of Night Court: he found their best booze and chugged two glasses before pouring a third and forcing himself to nurse is. 

There was a fire already crackling when he entered. Night Court had a subtle chill not so different than Autumn Court. Though Eris wish he had a sanctuary similar to Feyre and Rhysand that could give him such comforts. 

What the Cauldron are you doing here? Eris asked himself. 

He should be back in Autumn Court by now. This was not part of the plan. He was meant to check on Y/N, instill fear into the hearts of Rhysand and his court, and never to appear again. 

But now he planned on having dinner with his mate? His mate who had no idea that they were mates. 

Someone finally walked into the drawing room. 

Eris recognized her as the middle Archeron sister. His youngest brother’s mate. 

Her eyes grew wide at his presence.

But then she blinked and seemed to relax quite a bit. “Oh, I thought you were your brother.”

Eris smoothly took another sip of his drink before he said, “I take that as a great offense. I am far more handsome than him.” 

Elain managed to force a small smile. But Eris saw how much effort it took her, more than anything. 

“I-I did not realize you were dining with us,” she muttered awkwardly. 

Clearly his presence made her uncomfortable, whether he was Lucien or not. 

“I was forced,” Eris answered bluntly. 

A toddler came crawling after Elain, cooing and trying to climb up his aunt’s legs. 

Elain smiled – genuine, this time – and leaned down to pick up Nyx. 

“So this is the little prince…” Eris finally spoke, observing the toddler. 

“He’s certainly treated like one by all his aunts and uncles,” Feyre joked, finally entering the drawing room with Rhysand right behind her. 

She immediately went for her son, who beamed at the sight of his mother. 

Eris had never thought much about children. Being the eldest of seven meant he was often asked to take care of his brothers growing up. The last time he held a baby was when Lucien had been one. 

He figured he’d have children when a marriage was forced upon him by his father for political reasons. 

But with Y/N…Eris doesn’t know if he could go through with such a union now. Even though there was voice in his mind screaming that it would put a much needed chasm between the two of them if he did. Distance from him is what Y/N needed most of all. And an arranged marriage with some courtier or another would do just that.

There was a ruckus coming from the front entrance. 

Illyrians, Eris thought. So loud and obnoxious. 

The rest of Rhys’ inner circle came waltzing into the drawing room: Cassian with his mate Nesta, then Amren, Azriel, Mor. But it was Y/N who walked in last. 

And the sight before Eris made him lose his breath. 

Y/N wore a dress of Night Court fashion: a grayish plum color that curved into the shape of her body so naturally. While there was hardly any skin showing, it made Eris’ heart race just a little bit faster. 

Her face was painted with rather dramatic makeup. Though it suited her and she looked beautiful, Eris somehow knew that Y/N must not involve herself in such glamour in her daily life. 

It also completely hid the bruises that Eris had spotted earlier.

“Y/N, you are allowed to tell Mor no,” Feyre giggled at the sight Y/N all dressed up. 

Y/N shrugged politely and ducked her head as she said, “It seems to bring her so much joy. I don’t have it in me to stop her.” 

But Mor wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. Because as soon as her eyes had been locked on Eris, she gave him a glare that Eris felt should’ve killed him. 

“What is he doing here?” Mor snapped. 

Eris had been too busy getting lost in Y/N to even notice that he was someone’s prey. 

Rhysand stepped forward. “He is our guest tonight, Mor.” 

Y/N watched everyone’s reaction’s to Eris’ presence carefully, and she was smart enough to put together that Eris was no friend to the inner circle. 

Then she looked at Rhysand, staring intensely at More, who still glared at Eris. She knew the High Lord must be speaking to her through their minds. 

“I’m famished!” Cassian groaned. “Let us eat already.”

And the tension was broken – for now. 

Rhysand and Feyre guided them to a formal dining room with a long table. However, at the head on one side were two chairs. So the High Lord and Lady could sit next to each other instead of being separated by a massive table. 

Feyre kept Nyx in her lap, seeing no issue with feeding him while she also fed herself and entertained their friends and guest. 

Nesta sat on Feyre's left side, Cassian sat next to her, and then Y/N squeezed in between Cassian and Mor. Eris could tell it was purposeful. As if Mor and Cassian were protecting the human girl by sitting on either side of him. 

Eris managed to grab the seat on the other side of the table that was directly across from Y/N. If he was going through with this terrible dinner, he was at least going to get a good view of his mate. 

Amren sat on his other side, at the corner of the table. Whether it was to keep an eye on him or because she didn’t care to sit beside him at all, he didn’t know. Azriel sat to Eris’ left and then Elaine was between the Shadowsinger and Rhysand. 

Feyre noticed the unusual quietness. 

Their dinners tended to be chaotic, but full of love and camaraderie. 

The tension of Eris’ presence was impossible to ignore. 

“Wine,” Feyre blurted out. And everyone’s glasses filled with it. 

The High Lady didn’t hesitate to toss the entire glass back. And her mate watched in amusement. 

“Y/N,” Feyre called to her politely. “Have you been properly introduced to our guest?”

“No,” Y/N answered bluntly. “But I know who he is.” Then she muttered under her breath as if she were talking to herself. 

Eris watched her closely, yet still somewhat discreetly. 

She then eyed him right back, as if silently telling him, ‘And I can see enough to know I shouldn’t like you…or trust you.’

“Let us toast,” Rhysand stood.

Feyre joined him, Nyx balancing on her hip and her other arm holding out her wine. 

“To Y/N,” Rhys started. “Who risked her life to protect and save my son.” 

Cassian pounded his fist on the table, “Hear! Hear!”

Mor bumped Y/N’s shoulder playfully, yet proudly. 

Eris looked around to see that everyone was beaming at Y/N, who shrunk at the attention, but still slightly lifted her glass off the table. 

“We can never repay such a debt,” Rhys added ever so seriously. 

“But he will surely try,” Feyre added with a smile, lightening the mood a bit. 

“I could smell the flower shop you put in her room from down the hall,” Nesta commented, pretending to act as if it had been an inconvenience. 

Y/N smiled at Nesta, almost gratefully. 

As soon as the toast was over, food appeared on their plates with a snap of Rhysand’s fingers. 

Eris noticed that Y/N was looking around, observing everyone. It was as if she needed to make sure she was matching the groups etiquette, how formal or informal they ate and talked. He had already assumed Y/N had not been from a wealthy mortal family. But her watchfulness only proved it.

“We haven’t poisoned your food,” Cassian teased Eris when he noticed the male hadn’t started eating. 

“Maybe we should have,” Mor snips before taking a bite and added a glare to Eris. 

“I neither begged nor requested this invitation. Your qualm is not with me,” Eris cooly answered. 

“Did you have fun in the stables today, Y/N?” Rhys asked, taking on the role to defuse any sort of tension aimed at Eris. 

Y/N nodded shyly. “I didn’t expect you to have horses…since all of you use…different forms of travel.” 

“Do you like horses?” 

Eris shocked himself, not even realizing the question had come from him until he saw Y/N’s eyes widen in surprise. 

Everyone else had paused for a moment to process his boldness as well. 

Y/N lowered her gaze to her plate as she nodded and then muttered lowly, “I don’t believe there’s any animal that I don’t love…” 

An image of Y/N meeting Eris’ smoke hounds flashed into his mind. 

But Mor wasn’t finished yet. “Have you killed that demon of a father yet, Eris?” 

Eris didn’t look up from his plate, but his grip on his silverware tightened so hard that he was convinced he was about to break it in half with just his thumb.

So much scheming and secrecy lingered around Eris’ plans to rule Autumn Court, that to have someone so blatantly speak ill of his father and expose his plans was infuriating. 

He glanced to his left to see that Azriel gripped a knife in his hand and his shadows were humming with anticipation. The Shadowsinger was fulling expecting Eris to fling himself across the table and try to strangle Morrigan. 

“Mor…” Feyre warned, but she mostly sounded disappointed. 

“You wish to kill your father?” Y/N asked ever so quietly, eyes narrowed with suspicion and distrust. 

Eris knew what Mor was doing: ruining his image befor he ever got to even have a conversation with Y/N.

In a way, he respected her strategy for trying to protect Y/N. 

But Eris couldn’t ignore Y/N when she spoke so directly to him. 

“My father is unfit to rule,” was all he told her. 

But the answer made Y/N’s face scrunch even further in thought. 

Mor continued with, “What’s stopping you?”

Eris ground his teeth before snapping, “I can only assume it is the same thing that’s stopping you from killing your own father, Morrigan.” 

Mor shot to her feet, fist clenched at her side. “I’ve lost my appetite suddenly.”

A soft wind brushed through the room. 

“It was not him that tortured you,” Y/N mumbled, eyes staring off into the distance. 

But it was enough to stop Mor in her tracks. 

“He brought you to the border and sent word that you needed saving,” Y/N added darkly. 

Then she blinked, as if bringing herself out of a daze. 

Mor took a deep breath as she stared at the back of Y/N’s head. But then still continued her exit, slamming the door of the dining room behind her. 

Eris’ gaze shot to the High Lord and Lady. “What tales have you been telling her?”

“Y/N has a knack for knowing things that have never been told to her,” Rhysand tried to speak for her, making it seem nonchalant with a wave of his hand. 

Feyre managed to shift the conversation to lighter topics. And the Inner Circle was set on helping her as much as they could. 

Azriel seemed to be the most annoyed with Eris' attendance. But his stoic silence was the only outward rebellion to their guest. 

Cassian joked with both Feyre and Y/N. Nesta pretended to be annoyed, but would give her mate looks of love when she thought no one was watching. 

Y/N seemed to lighten as the conversation continued. She wouldn’t add anything, but answered pleasantly when anyone spoke to her. 

But every so often, her eyes would subtly move to Eris as if he were a puzzle she were trying to figure out. 

Eris mostly ignored the conversations around them. But he held onto every single word Y/N spoke and intended to memorize them within his heart. 

When they were all finished eating, Feyre said something about going back into the drawing room for drinks and possibly dessert. 

But Eris noticed a door leading into their back garden that eventually led to a river. 

Without saying anything, Eris walked out of the home. The fresh air did him wonders. Even with so many other people and a steaming supper, Y/N’s scent had infiltrated his senses.

And his body was screaming at him to just speak to her, to get her alone. 

The cold air woke him from his trance. 

He leaned his head back and looked up at the sky. 

It must be the magic of the Night Court that made the stars and moon seem even more beautiful here. Though Eris wondered when the last time he even looked at the sky in Autumn. 

“Are you trying to flee?” A deep voice said behind him. 

Eris slightly turned to face the Illyrian General. 

It sometimes seemed like Cassian hated him the least. But perhaps Eris was confusing his smugness of winning Nesta as a lack of hatred towards him. 

“Never. Though I should be leaving soon,” Eris clipped back. 

Cassian still lingered though. 

And Eris shifted his weight. His eyes were distant, as if he seemed to be mulling something over in his head. 

“Do you wish to ask me something?” Cassian asked. 

But he surprised Eris by appearing rather serious, no teasing in his tone. 

Eris cleared his throat. “Before your mate was turned fae, did you know?” 

Cassian nodded his head slowly. “I had an…inkling.” 

Eris only gave a slight nod. 

“It is stronger for you?” Cassian asked in return. 

Eris didn’t want to share something so intimate with anyone, let alone someone he still considered an enemy. But this Illyrian was the only one who seemed to relate to the turmoil he was going through. To know your mate is mortal... it was a terrifying realization. 

“As soon as she–“ Eris cleared his throat. “As soon as she looked me in the eye, the bond snapped into place.” 

“Perhaps it’s because she needed saving,” Cassian pondered. “The Cauldron has strange ways of connecting us.”

Then the Illyrian turned and looked at the window of the drawing room. Y/N was on her knees, controlling little gusts that lifted Nyx a foot off the ground with his baby wings. Nesta smiled as Nyx fell into fit of giggles when he slowly lowered to the ground.

Eris inhaled sharply. “She’s…”

“A witch, yes.” Cassian finished for him. 

Eris seemed to process this. The eerie knowledge she had on everyone, the dazed look she sometimes got, the muttering to herself, the reason she was able to protect the heir of Night Court against an infantry of fae. 

Eris had spent so little time with her, yet somehow he'd sensed from the moment he met Y/N that there was something more to her. 

“That is how she saved the boy,” he breathed. 

Cassian nodded. “Rhys didn’t tell you?”

Eris’ expression darkened. “No, he failed to share that particular detail.”

“Y/n says people have always just believe she is crazy,” Cassian commented darkly.

Was that a protective tone in the Illyrian's voice? 

“The wind,” Eris commented. “It tells her things.” 

Cassian nodded again. “For the most part, she keeps it to herself. Y/N’s more than aware that many only know witches as evil beings, drinking the blood of innocents and thirsting for more power than they should ever possess.”

But both males knew there was nothing evil about Y/N. 

Eris still watched Y/N through the windows. She now held little Nyx in her lap while softly talking to both Nesta and Elain. Perhaps she liked talking to the them because she could sense that they were once mortal like her. 

As if feeling someone watching her, Y/N’s eyes moved to meet Eris’ through the window. They locked gazes only for a second or two. But to him, it felt like an hour. 

“I should be going,” Eris declared, forcing himself to break eye contact and fully turn to face Cassian. 

Then he was marching back into the house, but made sure not to look at Y/N – or anyone else in the room, for that matter. He didn’t pause in the room, not wanting to ruin the joy and comfort that had built in his absence. 

On his way to the front door, Eris lowered his mental shields for the first time in the presence of Rhysand and Feyre. 

Thank you for your hospitality, but I must return to Autumn Court, Eris mentally messaged the High Lord and Lady. 

You are welcome to visit her whenever you wish, Feyre answered. 

But Eris ignored her comment, and put his shield back up before they could say anything more on the matter of Y/N. 

“Please, wait.” A gentle voice begged, just as Eris reached the front door and had already opened it halfway. 

A chill went up his spine. He took a shallow breath, breathing in her scent now that it was not mixed with anything else. 

Eris slowly turned to find Y/N watching him hesitantly. 

This was only the second time they had ever been alone. 

His back straightened and his face went even colder, even more cryptic. 

“S-Sorry,” Y/N stuttered out. “I…I just wanted to know…”

She was interrupted by a wind that rushed from outside, brushing through Eris and Y/N.

It suddenly slammed the door shut that Eris had held half open. 

“Shhh!” Y/N muttered, clearly not speaking to him. 

Eris could easily see how mortals would call her crazy and think nothing more of it. But faes who have lived for hundreds of years could easily see that there was something more to the young woman. 

He tilted his head slightly. “Dare I ask what your little friend tells you now?”  

His voice almost sounded bored and disinterested. But his heart raced faster, fearing that perhaps the wind knew what Y/N was to him. 

Y/N’s eyes widened at his clear awareness of her gift. “T-They just say you should stay. But…but they won’t tell me why.”

“I must be going,” Eris told her harshly. “Was there something you needed?”

She nodded, but seemed less confident now with his performative coldness and annoyance. 

“Why…umm…why did you save me?” She sighed. 

Eris’ jaw clenched and he crossed his arms. “You would have died in that forest.” 

Y/N blinked at his blunt response. 

“And you could have just left me there,” she challenged. 

Eris looked around at the house they stood in. The home of the High Lord and Lady of a court that was not his own. 

“Do you have family? People in the mortal lands?” He asked, making sure to keep out any sympathy or affection in his voice. “You do not have to stay here.” 

But Y/N shook her head. “My cov–” She stopped herself. “My family is dead. I’ve been on my own for years.” 

“Your coven,” Eris said slowly, proving that he caught her mistake. 

She glared at him. “We are not what you think.”

He ignored her reply. “What happened to them?” 

“They were killed by the nearby village.” 

“By humans?” Eris persisted. 

“We could never settle in one place for long. People always assumed we brought some sort of evil with us. But all we ever wanted was to be left alone.” She shook her head as her eyes glazed over with the memory. “There was a plague going through the mortal realm. We had the pow–“ She stopped herself again, and cleared her throat. “We had the means to cure those suffering. But the village…they thought we had brought the illness.” Y/N’s voice shook as she continued, “The night we were brewing the medicine to save them was the night they chose to come and slaughter us.”

Eris felt his heart drop at his mate’s story. 

A silent tension filled the room. 

“I-I don’t know why I just told you all that,” Y/N mumbled, clearly annoyed with herself for oversharing with a stranger.

“Yet, you survived,” Eris pointed out, managing to still sound unmoved by her story. 

Y/N’s eyes stared at the floor as she whispered, “I shouldn’t have.”

All of Eris was screaming at him to go to his mate, to comfort her, to pull her into his arms. He wished to tell her that nothing like that would ever happen to her again, that he would keep her safe. 

But he couldn’t even keep her safe from his father, from his court. 

So, instead of doing or saying the things his heart begged for, he cleared his throat roughly and said, “I must being going.” 

And he walked down the path, only able to winnow when he finally left the protection wards of the River House. 

He didn’t turn back to give her a final look. 

Eris heard Y/N’s story... and gave her nothing. 

–––––

Let me know if you liked this! I love hearing from readers 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Still think only like 5 people are reading this silly fic. lol

Feel free to send me questions in an ask. Those always making me happy.

chapter vii

#eris vanserra #gust & flame #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra reader insert #night court #autumn court #acotar #a court of thorns & roses #inner circle #cassian acotar #feyre archeron #nyx acotar #rhysand

[ninainthetardis]

⚠️⚠️⚠️ HoFaS spoilers ⚠️⚠️⚠️

.

.

.

Be warned, this is going to be a rant.

.

.

Ok, the HoFaS crossover was supposed to be exciting, but it ended up being another trigger topic for me thanks to the obnoxious N.esta stans who never hold her accountable for her wrong choices and always pick on the characters who stand up to her/call her out on her crap.

The thing is, I didn't even dislike her in this crossover, but I swear the moment her stans open their mouth, I go straight back to hating her. I don't even know how it is possible to be so clouded that they can't see/recognise when she's wrong or the hurt she causes/her actions may cause to other people. How they can always defend her without considering any other perspective/logic and proceed with the slander of any character that does not share her ideas or approve of her actions. Or how they demand respect for her trauma while ignoring/invalidating the one she inflicted to others.

The point in this case is: giving Bryce the mask WAS a dumb, rushed, risky choice. Stop ranting and insulting Rhys for his reaction, he was bloody RIGHT (also, Azriel was on that line too, why isn't he an asshole too?). I thought that immediately, even before reading the bonus chapter. You're even bashing Cassian for not defending her, as if she wasn't gambling with everyone's life because she somewhat liked Bryce and understood her desperate situation. Which could be admirable if it wasn't a lot hypocritical of her, considering that she barely moved a finger to help win their war against Hybern. And about that: isn't it time to wake up? It was Elain to end the King, N/esta just cut his head off once the hard part was done. And on top of that, both her and Cassian would be as good as dead without Elain's intervention. But why am I even bothering to talk about this...

And by the way, to those hating on Cassian, now here's a flash news: you do not have to defend your partner if you think they are wrong. It doesn't mean you don't love them, acting like the significat other is always right is not how support looks like. And N.esta can clearly speak for herself, maybe even too much, and with too much entitlement. You don't want to respond of your actions to Feyre and Rhys? Well, fucking leave the Night Court already! They're its rulers!!!

And Bryce's mom was the other one being totally out of line and acting entitled tbh and quite rude. I mean, you are in another world, in which your daughter made mess after mess, with people you need something from whether you like it or not, people you don't know and you talk that way? Not every bloody Fae is the Autumn King or the Avallen King! Someone really has to tell her AND Bryce, given that she passed that bias toward the entirety of the species to her. Generalisation is always wrong. And also, you know, it's a matter of good manners, and that issue was really none of her goddamn business. She could've spoken on N/esta's behalf using different tones, and it would have been a lot different.

Now, let's get back at the mask thing.

Honestly, I get that I was supposed to root for Bryce in this one, but she made it quite difficult for me when all she did in Prythian was putting that world in a danger she was very aware of. Like freeing an Asteri on Prythian soil, as if Vesperus would ever tell Bryce how to kill her own species. I get she was desperate, but it was just dumb and egoistic of her to do that, to risk to bring the same evil that plagues her world into another one, especially when there was no guarantee (quite the opposite actually) that by doing that she'd get the answers she was looking for.

Bryce had no reason to trust them, and they had no reason to trust her as well. Had Bryce failed, the consequences of giving her the mask would have been catastrophic. And I am not even going to mention Nyx's safety as a reason for Rhys to be pissed at N/esta. Rhysand and Feyre are responsible for the whole Night Court. And in this case, the whole of Prythian, AGAIN. There is a reason if they're the ones in charge, position that actually includes putting your people first and being able to make hard choices, even if they are morally grey choices, to protect their people. N.esta doesn't have such responsibility, and thankfully so because she would be terrible in that position. Moreover, they've just come out of a war, for Rhysand it was the second war he fought and after 50 years of UTM... but of course, why would N.esta care? She was somewhere safe almost the entirety of the time while Feyre - who died to save the very same world N.esta was endangering with her choice - was out fighting for everyone's safety. I am honestly shocked by how people refuse to even consider Rhysand's perspective, at least on this one. As if he knew Bryce and what she was capable of (and as if the whole resolution in CC wasn't due to pure luck, anyway) and have the slightest idea she might succeed. Also, Bryce had 10 other ways to manage the whole situation differently. Had she cooperated a little instead of proving to be a loose cannon, she might have had the chance to actually GET their help without having to take it by stealing and endangering Prythian. Trust goes both ways. They could have found a common ground or made a deal that ensured Prythian's safety and at the same time help Lunathion. Rhys and Feyre are sensitive to people who are suffering and would do something about it. There was no need to endanger Prythian in the process. But 1. They would've stolen the show and 2. Bryce's the one who left Baxian and Fury in Avallen or didn't think of calling Jesiba during the final battle against the Asteri, why would she think that someone as powerful as Rhysand and as knowning as Amren could be helpful anyway 🙄 her "Aelin wanna be" era failed miserably because she actually didn't have the skills, the drive, the strategic thinking and the experience to be like her, despite the efforts. But Bryce is a topic for another day.

This is my tea for today. It's been a year I'm part of this fandom and I've tried so hard not to rant/write about acotar just to avoid the toxic part of this fandom, but hey, patience has its limits, this is still my space and seeing all that "everyone" slander from the pro N.esta for no logical reason really got on my last nerve at this point.

#anti nesta #hofas spoilers #cc3 hofas #pro rhysand #anti bryce quinlan #house of flame and shadow #acotar #anti bryce

[theladyofdeath]

Better or Worse {9}

Nessian. Angst. Modern au.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

Warnings: language.

“Shit, bud. Calm down.”

Nyx is flailing around recklessly in his booster seat, his seatbelt stuck. As soon as the words leave my mouth, he gasps.

“That’s naughty, uncle Cass,” he says, as I lean over him and rattle the seatbelt for a second, getting it unstuck and breaking him free. He hops out of the truck and I grab his backpack.

“What’s naughty?”

“Bad words.” He leads us into the kitchen from the garage and Greg instantly greets him. Nyx is the only human that Greg truly likes. “Hi, Greggy.”

“They’re only naughty if you say them,” I assure him, dropping his backpack onto the kitchen table.

“Aunt Nesta!” Nyx’s little voice rings through the house.

“She’s not home, buddy,” I say, throwing him over my shoulder and carrying him into the living room.

He repeatedly hits me in the back as he giggles. “Where is she?”

“Yoga,” I say, and Nyx repeats the word with confusion. “Exercising,” I simplify. “Aunt Elain dragged her to a yoga class to help her with her body aches from carrying your new cousin.”

“Does having a baby hurt, uncle Cass?”

“I don’t think it feels too good, bud.”

“How did Aunt Lainy get a baby in her belly?”

I drop Nyx on the couch and cross my arms, trying not to laugh at his curiosity. Answering that question is beyond my pay grade. “Ask your dad.”

“But—”

“Ask your dad.” 

He sighs. “Fine. I’m hungry.”

Of course he is. He’s always hungry. “Chicken nuggets or mac and cheese?” 

He frowns. “Why can’t I have both?”

Both it is. 

I may be a critically acclaimed chef, but even I can’t help but heed the call of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

“Uncle Cass?” Nyx asks, while I’m walking toward the kitchen.

“Hmm?”

“Why is your pillow on the couch?” His question makes me stop to look back at him. Sure enough, he has my pillow on his lap and is beating the shit out of it. “That’s a bed pillow. It goes on your bed.”

It should be on my bed.

For the last few nights, since our date, I’ve debated on going up to bed. Every night, I’m tempted, and every night I think that it’s the night I’m finally going to take that step, but Nesta has never mentioned it and she’s the one that said one of us should be sleeping on the couch once I came back home.

Things have been going so well between us that I’m scared I’m going to do something to ruin it, like climb into bed with her in the middle of the night when she doesn’t want me there. 

“I slept on the couch last night,” I say, slowly, “because aunt Nesta was snoring too loud.”

Nyx giggles and starts fake snoring loudly and obnoxiously. “Like that?”

“Exactly. She was keeping me awake.”

As I walk into the kitchen and get a pot out the cupboard, Nyx says, “Is sleeping on the couch comfy? You’re too big to sleep on the couch.”

I snort and the pain in my lower back seems to be agreeing with my nephew. I remember being twenty and able to sleep in whatever position, wherever, and not feeling a damn thing. Now, after sleeping on the narrow as fuck couch, I wake up every morning with aches and pains I didn’t think were possible after an eight hour sleep. 

Half an hour later, Nesta walks through the door as me and Nyx are downing chicken nuggets and macaroni, and she barely says hi before Nyx says, “Uncle Cass is too old and big to be sleeping on the couch, Aunt Nesta, so you need to stop snoring.”

Her eyes go wide and she looks from him to me and I hope she can still read my face as well as she used to. 

She turns back to our nephew, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow, and asks, “Is that why he said he was sleeping on the couch?”

“Yeah,” he replies, nodding animatedly. I’m fairly sure that the last bite he had was more ketchup than it was nugget, based on the amount on his face. “He said it was cause you were snoring like this.”

He then replicates his fake snore from earlier, embellishing his snorts just as well as he had before.

Her eyebrows raise and for a moment, I forget to breathe. Her jaw clenches and I think every bit of progress we’ve made is about to be gone in an instant.

But then her lips twitch.

I exhale, the relieved breath I’ve been holding whooshing out quietly as Nesta hums. “That’s funny, because I recall making him sleep on the couch because he was the one snoring.”

With the most dramatic of gasps, Nyx turns to face me. “You were the one snoring, Uncle Cass?”

My wince is fake, but he can’t tell that. “Only a little bit. Hers were louder.”

Scooping up a bite of macaroni, he says, “Mama snores, but daddy said I’m not allowed to say anything about it.”

I watch in wonderment as Nesta throws her head back and laughs. “Your mama does snore, and your daddy is very smart for keeping that to himself.”

Nyx grins as if he had just said the world’s best joke.

Nesta catches me watching her and her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. 

“How was yoga?”

“Good,” she says, setting her back down next to the island. “I haven’t done it in so long, but I feel amazing.” 

I’m about to say good, that I’m glad she had such a nice time, but then she reaches down to my plate and grabs a chicken nugget before popping it into her mouth. I gasp and turn to the toddler stuffing his face beside me. “Did she just steal one of my nuggets?”

Nyx shakes his head and says, “You better get her, Uncle Cass.” He shoves a spoonful of noodles into his mouth. “She needs to go to timeout.”

“Yeah,” I say, looking up at Nesta, who is smiling as she chews, looking ridiculously gorgeous and humored. “You. Time out. Now. Nose in the corner for five minutes.” 

That brow lifts, once more. “Is that a demand?”

Her voice has a sultry quality I haven’t heard in months.

“Hell yeah it is,” I murmur, and Nesta’s eyes brighten. Nyx is too busy stuffing his face to call me out for my curse or notice what’s happening. At least until I say my next words. “Unless you want to take us for ice cream instead.” 

Nyx’s spoon clatters onto his plate as he drops it to clap. “Ice cream! Ice cream!” 

Nesta pretends to think on it for a minute. “Finish everything on your plate, then I guess we can get ice cream.” 

Nyx jumps up in his chair with a celebratory screech before sitting back down to finish his dinner in record time. 

True to her word, after going to change out of her yoga clothes, Nesta returns a few minutes later, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a cardigan, with her hair pulled back off of her face. She grabs her purse off the counter and asks, “Ready to go?”

Nyx is up and heading for the garage before I can react, but even so, I’m glued in place.

She is so, so beautiful.

Turning for the back door, Nesta notices I haven’t moved. She glances back at me. “What?”

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I approach her, pausing in front of her. “Nothing, just…” I reach out and run my hand down the length of her sleek ponytail, tugging lightly when I reach the end. I don’t let myself notice the slight catch in her breath as I do so. “Appreciating how gorgeous you are.”

Her eyes, so often full of storms, are calm today and they soften, as she looks at me.

“Can I kiss you?” I whisper, still not wanting to push her past her comfort zone yet.

She nods, rising up on her toes and closes the distance between us before I even have the chance.

My hands cup her face, tilting her head just right so I can slant my mouth over hers. Her fingers are clinging to my shirt and I break the kiss before it can become anything our nephew shouldn’t see.

“Come on,” I say, lacing her fingers in mine and heading for the back door. “You promised ice cream and you’re going to have to deliver.”

One of my favorite things about having a nephew is having the ability to load him up on sugar and then give him back to my brother.

By the time we’re pulling into Rhys and Feyre’s driveway, Nyx is bouncing in his carseat, singing the national anthem of Velaris at the top of his lungs for the fifth time. Apparently he’s been practicing it at school, and I’m impressed considering he only messes up about half the words.

Nesta finds it hilarious.

I keep sneaking glances over at her as she laughs in the passenger seat. 

Rhys opens the door when I ring the doorbell and Nyx runs past him, into the house, giggling as he continues singing. He doesn’t even move, my brother, as his toddler runs through the house. He just sighs and looks at me. “Ice cream?”

“Blame Nesta.”

I think he’s about to scold me, but then he cocks his head. “You seem happy. Doing good?”

I nod, slowly. “Yeah. I am. We are, I think.”

Even through his exhaustion, he smiles. “Good.” From somewhere in the distance, there’s a crash. 

Then, Nyx yelling, “Daddy? Uh… I tried to get juice.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I have to mop up some juice,” Rhys says, clapping me on the shoulder before telling me he’ll call me later. 

When I make it back to the truck, Nesta’s watching me. “That’s going to be fun putting to bed.”

“Considering it’s already ten minutes past bedtime? Yeah, Rhys is going to be thanking us.”

She chuckles and gets comfortable as I back out of the driveway. The ride is quiet for a moment, nothing uncomfortable, but as I stop at a redlight I can feel her watching me. I turn to meet her gaze as the truck comes to a stop. “You alright?” She nods, but she’s sucking on her bottom lip. I frown. “Nes, we have to be honest with each other, if you’re not alright—”

“I’m fine,” she says, quietly. The light turns green. “I’ve just been thinking.”

The words leave her slowly and an uneasy feeling creeps into the pit of my stomach. “Okay. About what?”

“You,” she says, quietly. “Sleeping on the couch.” 

I shrug, doing my best not get my hopes up. “Not a big deal.”

“I disagree,” she says, turning in her seat to face me.

This is something I’ve noticed her doing for the past few weeks. She’s giving me her full attention, letting me know that I’m her priority right now.

“Nyx won’t say anything to Rhys and Feyre,” I promise her, assuming she’s worried about what her sister will say. “And even if he does, I’m sure they could guess I’ve been sleeping on the couch—”

“I don’t care what Rhys and Feyre think.” She cuts me off and I let her, snapping my mouth shut. “I don’t care what anyone else, save for Gwyn, thinks about what takes place in our marriage. I… I’ve been thinking you should come back to bed.”

“Tonight?” I ask, turning onto our street, glancing  over at her. I want to make sure she’s serious, that she’s not just saying this because she thinks it’s what she should do since Nyx found out.

“Tonight,” she agrees, then adds, “and tomorrow night, and the night after that, depending how things go.”

I pull into our driveway and into the garage, parking next to her car, but neither of us make a move to get out. My next question could damn me, but I can’t stop myself from asking.  “And how do you want things to go?” Immediately, Nesta’s back goes rigid and I reach out, taking her hand and smoothing my thumb over the back of it. “I’m not asking to have sex, Nes, I just want to know what exactly you’re expecting.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m… I don’t think I’m ready for that. Not yet.” Opening her eyes, she gives me a soft smile. “But I miss having you sleeping next to me. I miss falling asleep in your arms and waking up with you curled around me. I even miss your snoring.”

I feign being appalled. “My snoring?”

“Yeah, contrary to what you told our nephew, you’re the only one that snores in this relationship,” she says, laughing quietly. 

“What can I say?” I ask, quietly, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between us and kiss her. “I’m not perfect.”

She rolls her eyes and tells me to get out of the truck. We go inside and I grab my pillow off the couch after I lock up and make my way upstairs. 

When I enter, Nesta’s standing in her bra, pulling an old t-shirt out of her drawer. It takes me a second to realize I’m staring, then I look away, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sorry.”

She laughs, quietly. “It’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before, Cass.”

Taking that as permission, I look back up, but she’s pulled the t-shirt on. It’s one of mine, one I haven’t worn in years, one that she had claimed long ago. It’s long enough on her that when she starts shimmying out of her jeans, I don’t see anything, it’s all hidden. 

“True,” I say, because I’m not sure what else to say. To confess that it’s different now, that everything is different now, probably wouldn’t help the situation. I don’t want to start a fight right when I’m about to climb into my own damn bed for the first time in over a month. 

Her smile doesn’t fade as she goes into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. I pull off my shirt and search through my drawers for a clean pair of sweatpants, which I kick off my jeans to pull on. 

Greg hops onto the bed, the bell on his collar jingling merrily as he makes himself comfortable on Nesta’s pillow. As much as I love our cat, I’m not interested in having him squeezed between us like the furry toddler he is the first night I’m allowed back in my own bed.

Without a word, I round to her side of the bed, picking Greg up. He gives me an inquisitive trill as I carry him towards the bedroom door, which turns into a noise of outrage as I chuck him out into the hall and pull the door shut as he lands on his feet.

Nesta comes out of the bathroom, chuckling. “What was that?”

I turn around to make a snarky remark about Greg’s sass, but I come up short. 

In nothing but that damn old shirt, Nesta’s pulling her hair back into a ponytail. With her arms raised, the hem of the shirt slides up her thighs. I can’t help my eyes as they graze her body, can’t help how slowly they trail from her bare legs, to the curves of her breasts that I can make out through the thin fabric now that her bra has been long forgotten, up to her cleansed face, which I admire in all her natural beauty. 

Needing to get under a blanket before she sees just how much the sight of her is affecting me, I round to my side of the bed, my arm brushing hers as I pass her, and get beneath the comforter.

I watch her still as she goes to turn off the light, then she makes her way to her side of the bed and gets in.

There.

We’ve done it.

Hurdle crossed. 

Except now I want to throw my body on top of hers and rip off that t-shirt. But I don’t, because she told me she wasn’t ready, and I respect that. 

But she did say that she wants to be held.

When I turn to her, she’s already facing me, already watching me.

“This is nice,” she whispers.

“I feel like you’re too far away,” I whisper back.

She huffs a laugh as she comes closer to me, until her forehead is against my chest and her arm is sliding around my waist.

“Better?”

I pull her on top of me, and she melts right into me as she always had, her body knowing exactly where to go to get comfortable. Her cheek is against my shoulder and my arms stay around her, tightly, protectively. Her knee is just above my cock, which is too hard for me to be thinking straight, but I like that her leg is slung over me, so I close my eyes and think of sick puppies and death.

“Better now,” I say, quietly, and her hand, which is lying on my bare chest, starts moving, her fingers moving in lazy circles across my skin, tracing the ink there. 

“Better now,” she agrees, and kisses the base of my neck.

The simple touch has my skin feeling like it’s on fire, and I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. 

This feels good.

Right.

Torturous.

But right.

My arm is wrapped around her, tucking her against me, my hand pressed against her lower back. I can feel the heat of her skin through the thin t-shirt and I let my fingers move as indolently as hers do.

I don’t mean to, but before I know it, my fingers are skimming over the bare skin of her back, the thin fabric of the shirt bunched up.

“Sorry,” I mutter into the darkness, trying to smooth her shirt back down. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, Cass,” she whispers, breath skating over my skin. “Gwyn said physical touch was good.”

Yeah, she did, but my dick is so hard and I’m wound so tight that if Nesta all but touches it, I’m going to blow.

Dead puppies. Well done steak. Naked grandmothers.

I repeat the mantra in my head until all the blood in my body isn’t being redirected south and I can breathe without feeling like my skin is stretched too tight.

When I glance down at Nesta, I find that she’s already looking at me, a smirk on her beautiful face. “You good?”

That smirk makes me want to roll on top of her, claim that wicked mouth in a kiss that I’d trail down her body until I reached the hem of my old shirt, tugging it up to reveal—

Closing my eyes, I drag my free hand down my face. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Her soft laughter ruffles my hair and she presses another kiss to my skin, just above my collarbone. “Go to sleep.”

With another deep breath, I pull her closer against me and settle into the pillows, listening as her breathing evens out.

When I’m sure she’s well and truly asleep, I press my lips to her forehead, breathing in her honey and lilac scent, and whisper, “Goodnight, Nesta. I love you.”

I swear her body relaxes further in my arms.

#nessian #nessian bow #snelbz x theladyofdeath collab #fanfic #fanfiction #modern au #angst #nesta #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas

[dreamlandreader]

Foolish Fire

Chapter One: Little Lights

Merry Christmas! I’m here to deliver one freshly baked fic for the incredibly lovely and wonderfully talented @popjunkie42-blog for the @acotargiftexchange 🫱🏻🎁 Surprise! I’m your Secret Santa! ♥️ I’ve loved chatting with you over the past couple of months! I hope you love this fic as much as I’ve loved every minute of writing it.

Click HERE if you would prefer to read on AO3 Content warnings - Suggestive conversations, bad language and public displays of fae affection 🔥

Word Count - 3201 Words

“Absolutely not, Feyre. No way. Not a chance!” Rhysand insisted for the third time in less than an hour. He may love his mate to the end of his existence and beyond, but his patience was becoming increasingly limited.

It didn’t help Feyre’s case that she was attempting to have this rather alarming conversation whilst Rhys was turning his office upside down, trying to locate an important document that had escaped his attention.

“Why not?” Feyre begged, bouncing her son energetically on her hip and following Rhys across the room as he frantically searched through his neatly arranged files, papers flying everywhere.

“I am not spending a weekend in the woods with half our inner circle, a toddler, and Lucien freaking Vanserra!” Rhys huffed.

“Okay, first of all, it’s not half the inner circle; it’s my sisters and their mates - one of whom happens to be your brother!” Feyre stated plainly, rolling her eyes at her mate’s usual dramatics. “Secondly, I thought you and Lucien were okay now?”

“Well, yes, okay to share dinner and a drink with, not to huddle around a campfire, darling”, he groaned.

“Daddy’s grumpy,” Nyx said to Feyre, hiding a giggle behind his tiny hands. Rhys stuck his tongue out to his son, of course, he would take his mother’s side. The cheeky baby just blew a raspberry back in response.

“I really think this could be good for us, Rhys,” Feyre tried again, ignoring her two boys’ antics and glancing over at her mate’s desk. “I love our lives, and the responsibility we have for this court, but even the High Lord and Lady need a break from time to time. We’ve barely seen each other the past few weeks,”

Feeling the twinges of guilt starting to gnaw at his gut, Rhys looked from his son to his wife just in time to see her pull the exact paper he needed from his desk with knowing eyes. He supposed he had been overdoing it a little the last month or so. Sighing, he reached for the paper with one hand and hooked an arm around Feyre’s waist with the other. 

“I know things have been busy at the moment, but once this treaty is drafted and we’ve managed to convince everyone to sign it, then I’m all yours again, darling,” 

“You need a break, Rhys,” Feyre sighed. 

“When I do eventually go back to it, I’m able to see exactly what I need to do to make it work better,” Feyre said gently, looking at Rhys with such care and warmth in her eyes. “Clearly, all this extra work has your head muddled if you couldn’t find a paper right there on your desk. Give yourself a break, and come back with fresh eyes. The treaty will be all the better for it.”

“And what about Nyx? We can’t take him off into the woods. He’s too young,” Rhys replied, stroking his son’s cheek as he looked at his father with such innocent and loving eyes.

“Mor said she will happily babysit for a couple of days,”

“Aunty Mor! Aunty Mor!” Nyx squealed, clapping his pudgy hands together in excitement.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you, baby? A whole weekend with Aunty Morrigan,” Feyre said to her son, tickling his round tummy.

Rhysand walked over to his plush velvet couch and flopped down theatrically.

“But why can’t we just throw him an obnoxiously large party like a normal Fae male. Why does it have to be in a forest?”

“Because Elain wanted to plan something special for the first birthday he’ll celebrate as part of a mated couple. She knows he loves the outdoors and thought it would be a great opportunity for us all to go on a family trip. Please, Rhys! Do it for me!”

“Oh, for caldron’s sake! Fine. But I’m not sharing a tent with Cass, no matter how much he begs!” Rhys insisted, giving his mate the most adorable of pouts.

Two weeks later, with a backpack full of supplies and her mate in tow, Feyre sludged through the thick mud and jumped over the tree roots which lay intertwined on the forest floor. Rhysand followed behind her, much less enthusiastically clambering through the woods, a solemn look upon his face, as his wife continued to drag him by the hand, and they fell behind the rest of their group.

Lucien and Elain were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, leading the group with an impressive energy that Rhys believed could only be explained by their newly formed bond. No one could possibly be that excited to trudge through the woods, he thought. Bouncing along the woodland route, Lucien had not stopped talking for the five hours they’d been walking. Elain was practically skipping alongside him, giving him her most rapt attention.

In typical fashion, Cassian and Nesta, who lingered in the middle of the pack, had spent the day jumping between arguing uncontrollably and restraining themselves from ripping each other’s clothes off. Rhys swore to himself on hour three that if he caught one more scent of their arousal upon the wind, he would winnow himself and Feyre right back home, damn the consequences.

Elain had chosen the Erebus forest on the border between the courts of Night and Day because it was known for its beautiful pathways and glittering lakes. The trees were still lush with leaves despite the autumn days creeping in, leaving the landscape rich with burnished gold, deep russet and warm copper foliage. The most extensive woodland in the entirety of the Night Court, the Erebus forest was the centre of a vast amount of local folklore, much of which Rhysand had been told by his mother in childhood. Tales of devious tricksters and terrifying beasts that prowled the woods were passed down through generations of Night Court young. As the High Lord over this territory, though, Rhysand had never found evidence to suggest that these stories were anything more than myths which warned children against getting lost in such a dense forest.

Elain had chosen the Erebus forest on the border between the courts of Night and Day because it was known for its beautiful pathways and glittering lakes. The trees were still lush with leaves despite the autumn days creeping in, leaving the landscape rich with burnished gold, deep russet and warm copper foliage. The most extensive woodland in the entirety of the Night Court, the Erebus forest was the centre of a vast amount of local folklore, much of which Rhysand had been told by his mother in childhood. Tales of devious tricksters and terrifying beasts that prowled the woods were passed down through generations of Night Court young. As the High Lord over this territory, though, Rhysand had never found evidence to suggest that these stories were anything more than myths which warned children against getting lost in such a dense forest.

Rhysand’s poor mood was punctuated by the slow and steady drip drip drip of rain. “I knew this was a terrible idea,” Rhys mumbled, slicking his damp hair out of his eyes.

“Rhysand!” Feyre exclaimed, stopping dead in her tracks with a venomous look in her eyes and raindrops dripping off the end of her nose. “You survived the blood rite, have fought in some of the deadliest battles in Prythian’s history, and have literally been brought back from death, yet a bit of rain is sending you over the edge?”

Rhysand looked at his muddy feet, raindrops dripping from his eyelashes in shame. He may be hating every moment of this trip, but he could not stand the thought of letting his wife down.

“I didn’t have a choice with those things. I did them to survive. This is supposed to be … fun,” he grimaced, shivering on the spot. “Why can’t we just winnow to a camping spot?”

“You know why. Lucien and Elain have asked we do everything authentically. No magic.”

“Urgh,” he groaned like a petulant child.

“Rhys, I love you so much, but I need you to stop whining! You’re driving me mad,” Feyre begged, feeling dangerously close to the end of her tether.

“Hey, I think this would be a good place to stop and set up camp,” Lucien shouted, interrupting Feyre’s tense glare. Replacing her frown with a smile, she once again grabbed Rhysand’s hand and dragged him along.

It took Rhys and Feyre roughly forty minutes to pitch their tent. Twice as long as Cassian and Nesta, who, after high-fiving and giving one another a delighted grin, sat back and critiqued everyone else’s technique.

The copse of trees under which they set up camp didn’t do much to shield them from the rain that was teaming down in buckets. Still, once the storm began to subside and a fire was built, they could at least start warming themselves.

Rhysand had decided for his mate, and his mate alone, he would try to seem more enthusiastic. So when Lucien suggested he could teach the other two males how to catch fish from a nearby river with their bare hands, Rhys was the first to roll up his sleeves and jump in the freezing water.

Feyre and her sisters, who chose to watch in amusement from the edge of the water, did not even attempt to stifle their laughter. After all, you rarely get front-row seats to watch the High Lord of the Night Court and his general splash around aggressively in water to bolster their male pride.

Lucien was successful in his endeavour and caught a good amount of sizeable fish, which would easily fill the bellies of the entire group. Cassian and Rhys, however, were slightly less successful. Cassian had managed to catch a fish, but it was barely as big as his thumb. Rhys, on the other hand, had caught everything but a fish. An old boot, several empty bottles of fae wine and numerous twigs now lined the bank of the river and stared mockingly at Rhysand, who was beginning to doubt his own skills.

Feyre was right. He had survived much worse conditions than this, he’d even been through much more severe forms of camping than this. During the blood rite, he had been separated from his brothers and had to fight his way back to them, all whilst trying to keep himself alive in the process. He hadn’t thought twice about it back then. He was getting too comfortable with his life in Velaris. Getting used to the calm of a post-war Prythian. Yes, he and his mate had piles of work to keep them busy, treaties to sign, and alliances to make, but all in all, they were in an excellent position, a period of great contentment. That thought made Rhysand’s stomach squeeze. He should not, could not, let himself get complacent.

From then on, Rhysand decided to utilise this trip as an opportunity to re-engage with his survival instincts. Perhaps he could even learn a trick or two from his Autumn Court companion. He would never admit it to Lucien, but some sly observation of his obvious skills would harm no one. And, if his active participation in the group kept his mate happy, then Rhys was even more convinced to oblige.

With his newfound vigour, Rhysand pulled Feyre into his lap whilst dinner was roasted over the campfire. Her suspicions about her mate's sudden change of heart soon disappeared as the fae wine that Elain had snuck into her travel sack began to flow, and laughter echoed around the campsite.

A few hours later, giddy from the wine and encouraged by the slowly setting sun, Rhysand dipped his head into the crook of his mate's neck and began to plant gentle kisses against her soft skin. Within seconds, Feyre turned in his lap, eyes alight with craving, and her lips pressed against his own. His hands slid down her spine and cupped her backside as he let out a low groan.

Just as Rhys slipped his tongue between Feyre's parted lips, the lovers were jerked harshly back into reality by an unamused Nesta.

“For the love of the mother, please stop before I puke up the remains of dinner,” Nesta drawled, giving her sister a pointed look.

“Oh come on, Nesta, as though you and Cass haven’t been giving each other sex eyes all night,” Feyre laughed, as Cassian shrugged in agreement, and Nesta elbowed him in the side.

“At least we are holding back until we get to the tent,” Nesta retorted, raising one eyebrow in a blatant challenge.

Although the sisters were debating who the horniest couple was, there was none of the bitterness that used to linger between them. Since Nyx’s birth, Feyre and Nesta had worked on repairing the fractured parts of their relationship, and though things had been tentative for a while, this sisterly teasing was a clear step in the right direction.

Rhysand’s heart swelled for his mate. He knew just how much this newly developing relationship meant to her, and from the warm smile radiating from his brother, he could tell it meant a lot to Nesta, too.

“All that steamy smut you read and your sister sharing one kiss with her mate is sending you over the edge?” Feyre retorted, a quizzical grin brightening her beautiful face.

“That smut doesn’t require me to watch my sister getting her ass squeezed!” Nesta huffed, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

“Pfft, as if Elain and I aren’t painfully aware that you and Cassian have fucked on every available surface in the House of Wind,”

An awkward cough interrupted the quick retort that was teetering on the edge of Nesta’s lips, and all eyes swung to Cassian, who was rubbing the back of his neck in evident discomfort.

“I hate to break it to you ladies,” Cassian said, low and quiet, as though he was revealing his most precious of secrets. “But I don’t think either of you is the Archeron sister that needs worrying about!”

Nesta and Feyre, along with their mates, all readjusted their gazes towards Elain, who was sat in her mate’s lap, sharing kisses and sensually moving her fully clothed hips against his. She was blissfully ignorant to her sister’s shock as Lucien’s hands slid up both sides of her dress, and she threw back her head in pleasure, allowing him to kiss down her exposed neck towards her chest.

“Oh gods, that’s enough socialising for today. I’m going to bed!” Nesta cried, almost tripping over herself in an effort to unsee what was now burned deeply into her mind.

“Yeah, good plan. Great plan!” Feyre squeaked, cheeks getting hotter by the second, as her desire to winnow away as far as possible grew exponentially.

Rhysand had to laugh as his mate clumsily hurried away towards the tent. What did she expect going away with a freshly mated couple? Even if the initial frenzy had eased off, the first year of a new bond was filled with passion and numerous instances where all rational thought went out of the window. Even now, three years after his own mating bond was cemented, Feyre and Rhys often struggled to resist each other.

Catching up to Feyre, Rhys wrapped his arms around his mate's middle and tucked his head into her neck, nipping at her earlobe.

“I didn’t know you were so easy to make blush, my love,” Rhys chuckled in her ear.

“I didn’t expect to see my sister dry-humping her mate tonight, that’s all,” Feyre replied, laughing too.

"Let's go for a walk, Darling," Rhys purred.

Feyre turned in his arms, a sly grin on her face as she clasped Rhysand's hand in her own, and together, they wandered deeper into the woods, away from the prying ears of their fae brethren.

Breathless from excitement, Rhys twirled his mate towards him, picked her up and pushed her against a nearby tree. As their lips met, teeth clashing in their eagerness, Feyre scraped her nails against Rhysand’s scalp in the way she knew always made the male shiver with anticipation.

Rhys nipped and sucked at Feyre’s lower lip, sliding his hands under her thick jumper and lazily working them up her body. Tracing the bottom of her lacy bra around to the back, Rhys was moments away from undoing the clasp when a sharp sound perforated the heated silence of the woods.

The snap of the twig had the lovers on instant high alert. Rhys tried to reassure himself that perhaps it was just one of the other couples from their party, who, like Feyre and himself, felt like a midnight tryst under the stars. But then, in the distance, a soft flickering light melted through the frigid black of night.

“What is that?” Feyre faltered, peering around her mate’s shoulder to better see the potential danger ahead.

"I don't know, but it's coming this way. Perhaps it's time to leave." Rhys replied, gripping Feyre's waist more firmly but lowering her to the ground to give her the chance to run if needed.

As the light drew ever closer, it became apparent that the source of light did not come from the lamp of another weary traveller or even as the result of a predator out in the dead of night ready to catch some unsuspecting prey. Instead, it appeared that the glow was produced by a small, illuminated, floating creature.

"Fireflies?" Feyre asked, squinting into the distance. The couple's fae hearing picked up the sound of tiny wings fluttering against the brisk autumn air as the light danced closer.

"No, they look like-"

"Butterflies!" Feyre gasped as dozens of dazzling butterflies swirled around them like autumn leaves on the breeze, leaving a gleaming trail in the path behind them.

Feyre reached out a hand and let out a small laugh as one of the creatures landed on her index finger, its magic bouncing off her own, sending a warm tingle throughout her body.

Then, as quickly as the golden butterflies appeared, they began to drift off and were, one by one, swallowed by the shadows. Only the gentle butterfly on Feyre's hand remained, casting a glow that lit her face with wonder.

Slowly taking flight, the beautiful creature seemed to beckon Feyre to follow it deeper into the woods. Feyre felt in her very soul that it was of the utmost importance that she went with it, and she shared this thought with her mate. Rhysand, however, was uncertain. He scoured his memory for any recollection of a creature quite like this, with luminous wings and a beckoning pull, but he came up short. The only tale he could remember was of the Will-o'-the-wisp, tricky little beasts who masqueraded as distant lamp lights, only to deceive weary travellers into getting lost, often leading them into mortal danger, delivering them to foul monsters who would gladly tear them apart. But, in all the stories he had heard of these characters, they had never taken the form of such placid creatures.

"Come on," Feyre beamed, striding forward, sparkling eyes wide.

"Feyre no!" Rhys replied, reaching a hand out towards her, but he merely blinked, and his mate had disappeared into the inky night.

✨ Click here to head to the series master list ✨

#acotarsecretsanta #acotar gift exchange #feysand #feyre x rhysand #acotar fanfiction #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #feyre darling #rhysand #acotar #sarah j maas

[whitedemon-ladydeath]

dhsjsghs the people like "that is FEYRES BABY" when it comes to them ridiculing people who have headcanons about Nyx + Gwyn or even Nyx + Eris just reeks so much of "boy mom" behavior. Homie yall do not want Feyre to be a "boy mom" for the love of God

who cares if people have headcanons about Nyx + Gwyn or Nyx + Eris??? like??? why are ppl being so obnoxious over this stupid baby that should have been yeeted in the first place. they kinda already proved Nyx was more important than Feyre bec they didn't even tell her that pregnancy was going to kill her

"feyre wouldn't have aborted anyways" yeah that's not the point and that baby has the world's laziest name alive

People can make headcanons about "Uncle Eris" or "Aunt Gwyn" like. whywhywhy. this is why this Fandom is the way it is

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #sjm critical #anti rhysand #anti feyre archeron #just in case ig #anti nyx archeron

[katatty]

Recap: Strangetown Round 5 (Summer) - part 4

Johnny and Ophelia finally move into their new place, along with Ophelia’s puppy, Nyx! They’ve been engaged since last round, and have been hoping to have a nice, quiet wedding here in Strangetown.

Ophelia had been doing occasional work as a private therapist, and she intended to start working in the local hospital, but there weren’t any vacancies, and the household needed money! So she took a job at Shiny Things lab, instead. Apparently their natural science division was understaffed.

As a detective, Johnny’s currently investigating some of their neighbours after recieving an anonymous tip. Rather nasty child experimentation allegations…

Housewarming party!

During this round, Johnny collects statements from Nervous, as well as Testee...

Nyx grows up into a large dog! Cute, too.

The Wedding is just a small ceremony at the chapel with a few family members. Johnny takes Ophelia's last name, to honour her late parents. After all, there are plenty more Smiths to carry on their family name.

Ophelia woke up the morning after the wedding to a suprise! Sooner than they planned, but they're both happy about it. (Ophelia has some anxieties, though.)

Baby Jude is born! He has red hair and dark eyes. Like a little PT9 :')

I didn't actually play Don (since I played him pleanty during the Pleasantview round), but want to quickly note he lives in Strangetown now, too. He popped up as a visitor a few times!

Then it's the Beakers!

The Beakers have two daughters, Calypso & Cruella. Cruella is currently off at Summer Camp, whereas Calypso is due a birthday this season.

(Unoficially) Loki has a third daughter, an alien girl named Testee. After escaping their lab, she was fostered by Lola Curious. She recently agreed to talk to the police about her childhood…

With the house getting full and a more interesting test subject arriving, the Beakers kicked Nervous Subject out long ago

They also found Bella Goth & returned her to her family, making them longtime close friends of the Goth family

Circe owns a magic lamp, and has one wish remaining

Throughout their round, Johnny Smith keeps popping by. Loki is not thrilled!

Circe's worried about it, but plays along with Loki when he tries to reassure her.

A lot of the round is dedicated to Calypso's education. She and her Daddy are very close. She gets into private school and grows up into a fortune sim, with ambitions of becoming a lawyer!

Cassie pays a visit. She's not doing too hot.

Circe makes use of her final genie wish, turning herself into a teenager and fleeing town.

This leaves Loki to take the fall for all their nefarious activity. He's arrested the following morning.

Phew, and that's all! Hopefully the recap being split into so many parts wasn't too obnoxious, haha. I'll probably need to rethink how I format these in future.

Thank you for reading! If you have any thoughts, I always really appreciate comments :)

#pleasantview plus #hood: strangetown #PP: Recap

[wistfulenchantress]

it is late and i am sleep deprived and i have worked up the nerve to post part of my wip.

so here goes, this is a scene between my main characters. here goes. posting this for people to see.

“You ready?” I ask. She nods slowly. “Are you?”

“I hope so,” I respond. We walk into the final training room, where Madame Cytherea, our new instructor, is standing in the center talking to the other trainees. “You are late,” she tells us, her voice shrill. “Sorry, ma’am,” I respond, hurriedly. I thought class started at 8:00, it's only 7:53. As if to prove my thought, another group of trainees walks in the door.

“Class starts at 7:50, on the dot,” Madame Cytherea informs them. “I know this is your first day, but you need to be punctual if you want to succeed.” The students nod, hurrying to their places. “Alright. I hope everyone is here, as we are already three minutes behind schedule.” Another group of students walk in, cowering under her glare. “What time were you all told that class starts?” she asks them, her voice shaking with rage. “Eight o clock,” a nervous girl whispers. She nods. “Ok then. We will wait until then. And class will run ten minutes late.” The entire room groans. “Next time, everyone should show up on schedule,” she reminds them. I make eye contact with Nyx, who shrugs. I scoot my chair closer to hers. “What do you think of her?” I whisper. “Seems sleep deprived,” Nyx murmurs, deep in thought. “Seems grumpy and obnoxious,” I add. “Indeed.”

“Nyx, do you have a nickname yet?”

“No!” she exclaims in frustration. I put a hand on her shoulder. “All I can think of is Madame C,” she continues, her volume back to a whisper, “And that is so basic.”

Nyx prides herself on teacher nicknames. She drove our third year trainer into early retirement. “It's ok. I like Madame C.”

“No, you don't. But you are sweet to lie.”

I roll my eyes. “I actually like it. She is so stuck up the abbreviation would kill her. And if you say it in the careless way you do, it will do its job. And I don't do flattery, you know that.”

Nyx nods slowly. “Madame C it is, then. Since you want me to be basic.”

I grin. “Just try it.” Nyx nods, and straightens in her seat, raising a hand politely in the air. “Yes?” Madame Cytherea asks, her voice thin. “Can I use the restroom, please?”

“You may.”

“Yes! Thanks, Madame C.” Nyx springs up out of her chair, and skips out the door. Madame C’s face turns several shades darker, the veins in her forehead starting to show. I cover my mouth to hide the smile. I was right, abbreviation was the way to go. Nice job. She looks ready to explode. I project the thought over to Nyx, careful not to invade her mind while sending the message. Already? Nyx’s voice fills my head, You were right on the money, Vala. Nice work! My face warms slightly at the praise, and I feel suddenly grateful Nyx isn't in the room, her blue eyes locking with mine…

A cold, bony fingertip alights on my shoulder. I look up to see Madame C, speak of the devil, staring down at me. “You and your friend will not receive special treatment because of your… connections.” I nod, “Of course, ma’am.”

“Good.” The woman straightens uncomfortably, and walks away. Nyx slides back into her seat. “We won’t be receiving special treatment, except for when we do because everyone is scared of you?” We both know the speech. I nod, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “They realize that your dad won’t protect you, right?”

“Nope. They are convinced he gives a crap about my happiness.” Nyx chuckles darkly. We both know the truth about my father. Related by blood only. I smile stiffly, starting to feel uncomfortable. She notices, and changes the subject. “How is the phasing working out?”

“I’m making progress,” I reply, glad to talk about something I can control. “I got stuck in the wall yesterday, but I managed to escape within an hour.”

“An hour?” Nyx raises her eyebrows. “But I’m getting better!” I protest. She nods sagely. “But you still chose an over-complicated medium,” she reminds me. I roll my eyes. “You keep reminding me. Yo haven’t even chose anything yet!”

“But I didn’t choose matter manipulation.”

I groan, slumping in my seat. Nyx just rests her head on my shoulder. “I could let your head sink into me right now,” I whisper. “You won’t, though,” she responds. I pause. She’s right. As always. “Shut up,” I shrug my shoulder, forcing her off. “You know me better than that,” she replies, and I can hear the smile in her words.

ok i hope that wasn’t terrible. please give me feedback so i can become functioning as a writer, because this is probably bad. idk. someone tell me, tho

#writeblr #writers #feedback #writers on tumblr #writing #spilled writing #feedback? maybe? #queer

[negative-speedforce]

1, 3, 4, 11, 13, 15, 26, and 30 for Onnie and Laila please?

YESSSS I FREAKING LOVE GETTING ASKS FOR LAILA SHE IS MY BLORBO-

1. Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

Onnie hasn't had any stuffed animals in years. Eobard made her get rid of them all as soon as she was like, 12, because he thought they were developmentally inappropriate for her age. She had a frog named Tedward (some weird amalgamation of Ted and Edward) and that was her favorite as a kid.

I... don't think Laila is even aware of what a stuffed animal is, considering that she was raised from infancy to be the Empire's weapon. Athena's probably not much help with that one, since she grew up on the streets and having toys falls to the wayside when compared to things like food and shelter.

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

"Pippa is... an idiot. I can't stand her, she drives me insane, but I can't help but be strangely drawn to her. She's obnoxious, and I really wish she'd back off, but something about her is just so endearing. Maybe it's that she manages to bring back to life the part of me I thought died a long time ago. Or maybe she's just kinda hot."

"Athena's ruthless, reckless, and I never lose the feeling that she's going to backstab me. But she's the only person who's ever given more than two shits about me in my life, so hey, what the heck? Not like I have much else to lose anyway. I'm pretty sure I care a lot more about her than she does about me, but even if this is a short ride, it's a good ride, and I'm not getting off."

4. Do they look good in red?

Onnie looks fantastic in red, so long as the shade's not too orangey. Shades closer to orange (and orange itself) tend to bring out the olive undertones in their skin in a bad way, making them look kinda yellow and sickly.

Laila doesn't look good in most shades of red, except the darker ones, like burgundy and maroon. Bright colors tend to clash with her already near-translucent pale skin, making her look even more pale than she already is.

11. They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

Onnie: Save it all. She's already rich, there's not much else she wants or needs.

Laila: Spend some, save some. Her and Athena aren't exactly poor, but there are some things they'd like that are a little out of budget.

13. Name one thing their parents taught them.

Onnie learned how to be a killer from Eobard. He taught her everything- where the best places to stab someone are, how to rip out someone's heart with your bare hands, how to snap people's necks. Insert Onnie having the sudden "Holy shit I had a bad childhood" realization here.

Laila doesn't have parents. Being a clone, I guess you could technically say that either the parents of her donor are her parents, who she's never met, or the woman who raised her, but anyone calling Nyx a mother would be absolutely insane to say that, since the relationship that Laila (and Pyrrha, later on) had with her was one-sided, conditional, and both emotionally and physically abusive.

15. What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

Onnie considers friendships and other relationships a waste of time. Since they (in very rapid succession) lost their girlfriend, accidentally killed their best friend, and then Jessi faked her own death (which was believed to have been a suicide), Onnie is kinda afraid to open up, but through a lot of mental gymnastics, she thinks it's because she's better than everyone rather than just plain trauma.

Laila considers training non-Force Sensitives in the Jedi arts to be a complete waste of time. Athena's asked her multiple times to try teaching her to do some of the things that Laila can do, like the gymnastics and meditation and stuff, but the most Laila will show her is how to use a lightsaber- weapons are pretty universal, after all.

26. Talent or effort?

Onnie: Talent

Laila: Effort

30. What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

Onnie would probably cry. They've been repressing a lot of emotions for a very long time, and any show of weakness could get her in trouble with Eobard, so if she knew it would be excused, I think Onnie would finally let go and feel those emotions.

Laila would tell Athena that she loves her. She'd never say it to Athena's face, especially since Athena kinda scares her and let's be real, she's not even sure if Athena even is capable of caring about a person other than herself. However, if she knew that it wouldn't ruin their relationship completely, Laila would tell Athena how she felt.

#ask revan #oc shit #practically-an-x-man #laila salibun #onnie thawne

[hauntedwitch04]

I hate that I love you

Nyx Acheron x Eris’ daughter!Reader 

Words: about 2.4k words 

Warning: a bit of smut but more talking about sexy times

Author’s note: HI love! I had this idea about Nyx and I really wanted to write this down, hope you like it. I want to dedicate this to @b7717 , always so sweet with me and she helped me putting ideas down for this story.  I took inspiration from “Boyfriend” of Dove Cameron. 

p.s. I think I’ll post a second part of this, because I feel like it isn’t finished like this 

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

Nyx playlist (yes I made a playlist about him, I'm crazy I know🙃)

You never liked dances, yet here you are, shining like the flame that burns in the deepest darkness and as powerful as the fire that burns whole cities.

A few weeks ago you received a letter where Lenox, the son of the High Lord of the Summer Court, invited you to his birthday party. You were very happy about this invitation, and even your father Eris could not help but be delighted and promise to accompany you to the party. You did not like the dances, however: too many people in a place too small to contain them, the music too loud and people shouting to be heard over the music and the general general commotion, in addition to the horrible discussions to be had with the various members of the Courts.

Another reason why you are not comfortable in this place is the presence of the son of the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court, Nyx, or rather the "pompous playboy who thinks he is better than everyone else."

When you were little you also got along very well, so much so that your father and Nyx had begun to be more civil to each other so that problems from the past would not interfere with their children; but as he grew up he became a snooty young man who thinks he is better than others and who believes that all girls fall at his feet with one word from him. Gradually you have begun to drift apart until you move on to insulting each other every time you see each other, in fact they generally try to keep you apart because they know you will end up beating each other up, and as you have shown several times you would win and kick the night prince's ass.

Back at the party, you finally managed to escape from the clutches of an obnoxious lady from the Spring Court. That woman had managed to send you into a rage with a few simple questions including why you didn't have a husband and children yet and whether you intended to take your father's place in the future, and when at the last you answered yes, she indignantly went on to explain that a woman should only think about her husband and children and not about ruling and power because that is the job of men. At those words you felt the fire of your family burning powerfully in your veins before you smiled and cursed her and left. Your father through it all was laughing at the scene in front of him, letting you do and say what you wanted knowing that you would manage perfectly well on your own without his help.

"Dad, I'm going to get something to drink. I'll be right back." You say looking at your father, he smiles and nods, so you head to the drinks table and drink a glass of wine. You're standing there deciding whether to get a second one that you hear the most obnoxious voice ever.

"Look who shows up here. How long has it been since we've seen each other Foxy?" Says Nyx flanking you as he too takes a glass of wine. You can't help but roll your eyes and pray he would leave quickly.

"Too little time. I was really hoping not to see you again, at least in this lifetime." You reply, trying to move away, but he, like the flies that buzz around just to annoy, stays glued to you.

"Oh come on Foxy, we both know you missed me." He whispers in your ear in a seductive tone.

"How I miss daggers stuck in my eyes." You exclaim sarcastically as you turn to look at him. You can't help but mentally beat yourself up for finding him so damn attractive. Nyx Acheron has always had an indescribable charm with his violet eyes and well-delineated facial features, and because of that he has always bragged believing he could get any woman he wanted and that has always bothered you a lot, but at the same time you can't help but notice his beauty.

"Do you like what you see honey?" He says with a grin, noticing the intensity of your gaze as you look at him. All you can do is shift your eyes, blushing slightly.

"More than anything, I was thinking about how to divide and hide the various parts of your body once I kill you, so that they can't find you." You answer before smiling at him. "Now if you don't mind, at your highness, I must go to my father, who will be looking for me." You continue with a mock smile on your lips and a half bow, before turning and going back the way you came.

"What took you so long?" Your father asks once you return to him.

"I met Nyx on the street and he obviously had to be an asshole." You answer a little too loudly, so much so that some people turn to look at you. Your father gives a cough and takes you a little further away from them.

"Try to restrain yourself a little my dear, you know how these nobles are, always looking for gossip." Your father continues in a low voice.

"Fuck decorum, that guy makes me mad every time." You say, as smoke seems to come out of your ears, and a hot flush rises all over your body. You think back to those damn purple eyes and curse yourself for wanting his hands on your body. Your father seems to read your mind.

"You know the line between love and hate is very thin, my dear, it often happens that we misunderstand which way we tend to fall." Says your father, smiling, as he hangs your face in his hands and places a kiss on your forehead. "Understand early which way you are going to fall, and let go without fear in case it is the one you don't expect. Fate may surprise you."

---------------------------------------------------------

You're bored out of your mind, and you can't help but let your gaze wander down the hall until you meet the eyes of the Prince of the Night, already fixed on you.

Instinctively you are reminded of your father's words, said just before, and you look away, confused by your feelings. First you thought it was sexual attraction, but what if there was more to it. As you think this and do not allow yourself to go any further, afraid of the response you might get. You see him out of the corner of your 'eye approaching you, but someone is faster than you.

"Would you do me the honor of this dance?" Asks the boy who had approached you without your noticing. He is none other than Calian, the son of the general of the Winter Court, who smiles at you and holds out his hand. You've known him all your life, too, and he's never been anything but kind and polite, as any boy should be, and you know that he's always had a soft spot for you, but you've never made it a point to let him feel that way.

Without answering, you smile back at him and take his hand, and together you go to the dance floor. You dance the whole song in silence, his hands resting on your hips with a light, gentle touch, but you feel that gesture is wrong, that his hands are not the ones you wish to be brushed against you. You feel someone's eyes glued on you, and between the twirls you glimpse that the eyes of the Sovereign of Dreams are resting on you, as an immense rage and power emanates from him like an expanding storm, ready to make lightning and thunderbolts at any moment. Once the dance is over you bow to Calian and feel a hand encircle your wrist, and all you can do is turn around. You see him in all his Nyx glory, with the stars of the night blazing in his gaze, gazing into yours that recall those of your Court. You do not realize that you have been staring at each other, saying nothing, until Calian gives a cough, and suddenly you both turn around. You see the young man laugh under his mustache, first leaving, not without first commenting.

"You better be careful Nyx, the girl has fire burning in her, you might get burned." He says chuckling, then adds. "I'll leave you to your looks. See you later my dear." He continues by kissing your hand. "Nyx."

The Prince of the Night does not respond, just makes a growl and then turns to you.

"May I have this dance?" He asks hastily, but you don't even have time to answer that he has already dragged you onto the dance floor. His hands rest gently on your hips, but his fingers cling to your dress as if they need to be certain that you are there with him. His arms and his warmth wrap around you and you feel the need to lean against his chest. Your and his eyes never stop looking at each other for a second, as if they were linked with an invisible chain. Your feet move on their own, and after what seems like an eternity, you stop dancing since the song is over, but your gaze does not fall.

"I...I need to talk to you." Says the serious boy, dragging you out of the room to a balcony overlooking a beautiful gulf. From here the party music is far away, and there doesn't seem to be a soul in sight.

"What do you have to tell me?" You ask pretending to be pissed off, so as not to give away that your body is betraying you. Every fiber, every cell in your body right now is screaming to get close to him and hold him to you, but you hold back.

"What's between you and Calion?" He asks in a tone as angry as thunder from the storm in the darkest night.

"What do you care bat? Even if I was going to marry him or take him to bed you don't have to care, it's my life and I decide what I want to do." You say in a harsh, authoritative tone as you look at him.

You get so close that your breaths become confused and before you can really understand what is happening your lips join in a passionate kiss. Your tongues entwine and try hard to overpower one another. Your hands immediately go to his hair, tugging lightly at it and making him moan with pleasure; while his hands go from holding your face to caressing your breasts and later to resting on your hips, pulling you closer to him. The kiss gradually becomes more passionate, until he brings you to have your back against the wall. His mouth moves on to torment your neck, leaving clear signs of his passage. For a long time you are silent, the only sounds are your repressed moans of pleasure so as not to give satisfaction to the other, until he lets out with a growl a phrase laden with jealousy.

"I can be a lover a thousand times better than any guy you've ever slept with princess, all you have to do is ask nicely. I'm sure I could do shit they never did, all night long, without giving up." He says whispering beside your ear, interrupting the talk with a few kisses. "What's more, I can be a gentleman, too. What do you have to lose?"

"Words, words, words. I need star facts before I can say whether a horse is thoroughbred or not dear." You comment, reciprocating with the same coin, leaving a bite at the base of his neck. You feel his muscles tense and a groan escapes his mouth.

"Sometimes I really hate that I love you know Foxy. You drive me so crazy that I don't know whether I'm about to fuck you so hard that even on the continent they will learn my name by hearing your moans, or keep myself from plugging you." He responds by stroking your face.

"Believe me, the feeling is reciprocated Starlet." You say with a grin.

Interrupting this moment is the voice of Nyx's cousin Hecate, a.k.a. the daughter of Nesta and General Cassian, and as much as she may be your friend, for a moment you curse her for interrupting you, leaving you wanting for this asshole.

"Nyx, where the fuck are you!" The girl asks aloud, stepping into the balcony. In the meantime we had split up, but it was obvious from the way we looked in our hair, clothes and various signs what we were doing. "Oh." The girl continues, looking at us with that obnoxious little smile. You give her the middle finger and the gesture makes Nyx laugh with gusto.

"What do you want Hec?" The boy asks, returning to why she is here.

"Uncle Rhys is looking for you, he certainly had no idea you were so busy." She comments.

"Okay, I think that's enough Hec." He stops her. "Go ahead, I'll follow you."

Hecate nods and leaves us alone for a moment.

"I have to go Foxy, but don't think this is the end of it, after all I am a man of my word." Says Nyx winking at me before walking away and following her cousin, not before leaving a kiss on my cheek.

You can't help but mentally slap yourself for falling into the playboy's mind, but then you remember your father's words and for a moment think about how true the line between love and hate is thin, and you really find yourself wondering if you hadn't misunderstood whose side you were on.

That boy is going to kill you, you are sure of it, as long as you are not the one to do it.

#nyx x reader #nyx archeron x reader #acotar x reader #imagine acotar #eris x reader

[divinemare]

⊹₊ ⋆ 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 ⋆₊ ⊹

┊⁀➷ nyx x oc

┊ part seven

part six

☁︎·̩͙✧

The next morning, Demetria awoke to a new sensation, one she couldn't quite place, but one that was rather... warm and cozy in her chest. She'd spent the entire night talking, dancing, and kissing Nyx as they'd watched the northern lights. It had been the strangest, yet most comforting experience of her entire life. Not once before had she thought it would be possible to have that kind of interaction with the Prince of the Night without threading each other to death if only they breathed, let alone wanting to be kissed and touched by him.

Her lips felt it then, as she remembered the feeling of his lips on hers, how they fit so perfectly and felt so out of this world, how his hands roamed her body in search of even greater proximity than possible and how they could be so loving, sweet and soft, but also hard, sensual and full of lust.

She cursed herself a couple of times before getting out of bed. She didn't know what the hell she had done last night, what kind of enchantment had taken hold of her, but she could feel it still dominating her. They had parted when it was all too obvious that they had to get back to the party before anyone noticed they were both gone and they haven't spoken since, a last glance and a sly smile was all they exchanged as both families returned to the castles for some rest before the next day of celebration took place.

Just as she emerged from the bath in her dressing gown, three knocks on her door brought Demetria’s thoughts back to reality. When she gave permission, a servant entered her room.

Malika was unlike any other servant, by far her favorite and one of her true friends. The female was part High Fae and part Ice Troll; she had pointed ears and the normally larger, sleeker features and body of a High Fae, but her skin was a cold blue and her upper teeth were slightly too large for her mouth, what should be white in her eyes was almost completely black, were it not for the deep sky blue of her irises. She was also much taller than a normal High Fae. Malika had taken care of her since she was ten, and with her rather shy and sweet personality, it hadn't been hard to befriend her.

"I'm surprised to see you here," was the first thing the blue-skinned female said, a playful smile on her lips, as if she knew something Demetria was unaware of.

"In my room, you mean?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Malika approached as she sat at the dressing table, her hair wet and in need of shaping. "I saw you out last night with the night boy," the air in her lungs suddenly vanished at the female’s words, and despite her attempts to hide the change in her body, Malika noticed it at once, her rather cheerful smile intensifying. "I thought you couldn't stand him".

"And I can't," she replied more quickly and defensively than she intended. It was partly true. She couldn't stand the way he made her feel, not knowing what exactly the feeling was left her out of control over it and she didn't like that. Demetria couldn't stand his cheeky grin and his rather obnoxious behaviour, he was still a pain in the ass, it was just that she felt weird about it and found herself unable to stop thinking about him. She felt different, she didn't know how, but the feeling was... there.

"If you say so, milady," she looked at the female through the mirror, but said nothing. Malika had known her since she was a child, knew she was lying, but still she didn't bring it up again, much to Demetria's pleasure.

Once Malika had finished with her, she escorted Demetria to the royal dining room, where her family and guests were already waiting for breakfast. When she entered, Nyx was sited between Elliot and her brother, the three males engaged in conversation, but at her entrance, Nyx raised his eyes at her, a sly, way too personal smirk slipped from her lips, and Demetria got that old and too well known desire to punch it out of his face. She simply ignored it, and smiled to the others present.

"There you are darling, we've been waiting for you, come on, your mother is starving and you know how she gets," Kallias instantly earned a glare from his mate at his comment, to which he simply responded with a blown kiss.

Demetria tried not to think too much about what happened last night, or the fact that Nyx Archeron was sited right in front and she could feel his eyes linger upon her far too often, but she found it much more difficult than she expected, and much more difficult than she liked to admit, even to herself.

Breakfast passed in soft and amid conversation, not to much of her tho, she just stared at her food and now and then commented something, still trapped in her own thoughts. That, until Asterin changed abruptly the subject, earning a kick from her.

"So, we're not talking about my brother and Dem dancing last night, or the fact that my dear cousins just lost a bet with me, or.... Ouch!"

After breakfast, Demetria approached the High Lady of the Night Court with a box in her hands that had been carefully wrapped by her, Feyre was talking with her godmother and her aunt when she went up to them.

“Oh, darling, what’s that?” The High Lady asked, leaving the conversation with the other females to walk away with the youngest.

"A gift, I thought, since I won't be able to be around for your birthday this year, I'd give you an early happy birthday present right now," she smiled sweetly, handing over the beautifully decorated box.

“Oh, Demetria,” Feyre pulled the young female towards her for an embrace, and Demetria returned it with with appreciation.

In her century of life, Demetria had known many powerful females, she herself was the daughter of one, but Feyre Archeron had always been at the top of her list, always so sweet, always so welcoming, always so motherly and loving and full of joy, but also fierce and protective and powerful, she had been the first High Lady of all Prythian and had rightfully earned her place.

"Thank you very much, my dear, you shouldn't have bothered," the older female said with a big smile, pulling out of the embrace.

"Oh, it's nothing, really, just something I found in the woods and figured you'd like."

Feyre smiled enthusiastically before opening her gift, gaping then at the beautiful watercolours.

Malika had long ago taught her that flower petals were great for making watercolors, and that the most amazing and beautiful colors could be obtained by the unique color of the flower, she had never really considered the knowledge useful, until she had seen some of the prettiest flowers that only bloomed at the Winter Court and remembered a painting Feyre had given her on her last birthday. It had been strikingly beautiful, and when Demetria saw the flowers blooming, she thought it might make a good birthday present.

“They are absolutely beautiful, thank you, Demetria,” the female squeezed her hand before retrieving back to the other females.

✧₊˚.

Nyx had watched the whole interaction between Demetria and his mother with an involuntary smile. Blaze had been talking about something, Elliot had laughed and acted stupidly smitten as he was, but Nyx hadn't paid them the slightest bit of attention.

"Oh my-, go away, please, before I throw up my breakfast," Asterin urged her brother, Nyx hadn't realised that it had been so obvious that even his sister and Kardam were scowling at him.

"Uhm, yeah, I'll be back in a minute, Blaze," without waiting for the male's response, he stood up and walked towards Demetria, who didn't notice him approaching at all.

"Well, looks like it's just you and me, then," Elliot said, resting his chin on his hand and looking at the white-haired male.

"Darya, it's your turn," Blaze said to the female at the other side of the table.

"What? But it was my turn last night!" She argued.

"Ok, you two have to decide, because I may have a heart for both of you, but not a body, or, well, actually I could have my body-"

"Oh my Mother, someone cut out his tongue, please!" Hollyver stopped the words that were about to come out of her brother's mouth with a snarl and a horrified expression.

"You know, Holly, just because you don't have anyone to love in your life doesn't mean you have to take out your frustration on my love life."

"Oh, you're going to regret that, you bastard!" Before Elliot could react, Hollyver launched for him.

Nyx stopped hearing the utter chaos behind him as soon as he was close enough to Demetria to smell her scent. It was undoubtedly what had driven him most mad for decades, the unique and all-too-precise scent of honey and winter. He remembered, then, an occasion when Viviane had given his mother and aunts some beautiful snowdrop flowers, which only bloomed at the Winter Court and happened to be Demetria's favourite flowers —as he had discovered thanks to Asterin—, and which also smelled just like Demetria: of honey and winter. He had been so enraged by the smell that had invaded not only his home, but also the House Wind and his aunt Elain's house, and that house was filled with delicious smelling flowers. There was no escape, wherever he went, he smelled Snowdrops, he smelled her. It had driven him so mad that he had thrown the flowers from his house into the Sidra. His father, for some reason, had lied for him when his mother had found out that the flowers were gone, saying it had been his fault, that he had accidentally knocked over the vase and the flowers had been ruined.

To this day, he was still haunted by that smell whenever it was winter in his court or he was close enough to her to smell it, he just couldn't seem to escape it wherever he went, apparently.

"You were very quiet at breakfast, I still can't decide if it was because you were too tired from last night or because you were ignoring me," at the sound of his voice, Demetria had startled and jumped slightly.

She turned to look at him, and Nyx felt his heart drop into his hands when he saw Demetria’s flushed cheeks and her beautifully unique eyes looking up at him at last. If he hadn't seen the look in her eyes when he walked into the dining room and she saw him, he would have sworn he'd dreamed everything that had happened last night. Now, with her so close to him, he was finally one hundred percent sure that it hadn't been a dream. His heart leapt in his chest so hard he could have sworn the organ almost jumped out of his chest.

"You- I- What are you doing?" She whispered in a low, anxious voice, as if someone were to eavesdrop their conversation.

"Nothing, what are you doing? Are you trying to run away from me?"

"I wasn't...!" When she realized she was raising her voice too much, she sighed and closed her eyes to calm herself, a gesture Nyx knew all too well, as she almost always used it to calm herself because of him. He smiled sideways but tried to hide it when Demetria opened her eyes again. "I wasn't running away, least of all from you," she folded her arms indignantly, and Nyx couldn't help an amused chuckle as he too folded his arms and leaned against the wall, shielding her flushed ears from the views of everyone inside.

"Did you know that your ears turn red when you lie? It's very subtle, I must admit, and of course I can't see it with all that beautiful white hair covering them, but," before Demetria could protest, he moved so close to her that she didn't have time to react as he pushed her hair aside to take a look at her ears. They were, indeed, flushed.

They stood like that in silence for a minute, Nyx pulling one side of her hair to her ear so that the pink of it remained visible, his hands lingering too close to her neck, and he stared into her beautiful, mesmerising eyes with no intention of ever looking away. How had he not noticed it before? That when she was mad or frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly?

"Will you stop this, Nyx?" Demetria pushed his hand away, and Nyx couldn't help but smile as he licked his lips and furrowed his eyebrows in such incredulity as he leaned back against the wall.

"Stop what?"

"That," she pointed his body up and down with her hands.

"What what?"

"For the Mother, please... no, I get it now, you just want to frustrate me, don't you?" She snorted, rolling her eyes, Nyx just cocked his head, amusement written all over his face. "Of course you do, that's what you always do, you just want to annoy me, and make me mad, and-"

What Demetria hadn't taken into account was that Nyx had already learned the perfect way to shut her up, and now that he knew it, he wasn't about to let that knowledge slide.

And so her words were cut off so unexpectedly by his hand on her cheek and his body forcing hers against the wall, they were now hidden from prying eyes, and it gave him the freedom to be as close to her as he wanted.

"Stop what exactly, Dem? What?" He whispered the last word in her ear and, just like the night before, he heard her heartbeat increase until it matched his own. A symphony so perfect it made him gasp internally, but a symphony Demetria didn't seem to hear at all.

"What do you want from me, Nyx?"

Her voice sounded so serious that it snapped him out of the enchantment their synchronized heart had plunged him into.

Nyx sighed and rested his head on her shoulder, if only for a split second, until he regained some of his self-control. He looked into her beautiful eyes, which were looking at him with such frustration and confusion. Damn the mother, even their feelings were in a ridiculous sync, because he felt just as frustrated and confused.

"I want you to hear it," he replied desperately.

"You want me to hear what?" She asked back, growing increasingly frustrated.

"Hear it, Demetria, just. hear. it."

They got into a horrible silence, in which she scowled at him, trying to search for some more rational answer, only to find pure despair and frustration in him as well.

Nyx waited, and waited, and waited for something, anything, any sign she could give that she could hear too. But nothing came, nothing at all.

So his heart slowly lowered its beat, and the excitement in it descended into a painful emptiness, he lowered his head slightly, defeated, and took a step away from her before it was all too much.

Without a word, he wanted to get as far away from her as he could, so he turned around, walking down the hallway, until,

"I heard it," he had never stopped as abruptly as he did then. "I heard it but...", at her lack of words, he turned around slowly, fearing disappointment again. "But I don't know what it means."

He released the air he hadn't been able to breathe, and so he took one step, then another, closer to her, her delicious scent again invading his nostrils with intensity.

"Yeah, me neither."

"Then what?" He took another step closer.

"Then what what?" She rolled her eyes, and he again felt the need to smile.

"Then, what are we going to do?"

"Nothing," he took the last step he needed for them to be so close that she had to tilt her head slightly to look him in the eye.

"Nothing?" She repeated, incredulous.

"Yeah, nothing, nothing at all. Just once, Dem, don't do anything, don’t try to control it, don’t try to understand it, just do nothing, just listen to it," Nyx took Demetria’s chin under his fingers and stroke the skin under his thumb.

"I don't know how to do that," she admitted in a mere whisper. Nyx smiled, not taking his eyes from hers.

"I know.”

"Then what?"

"Nothing," they spoke in whispers now, their faces mere inches apart.

"Ok, then, nothing."

And so they stayed there for a while, doing nothing, and just hearing it.

✧₊˚.

Seraphina had begged her to go see the puppies, Demetria hadn't been able to refuse the girl, so she had taken the younglings, with Asterin, Elliot and Kardam, out of the castle and to the stables. Hollyver and Darya had decided to "leave it for next time", which really meant they were too hungover and went back to bed.

Beyond the horses, there was also the place where they kept the family wolves, all of whom, frankly, belonged more to Demetria than anyone else. She had trained most of them since birth, the pack now looked up to her as the alpha.

"Come on, tell us everything!" pleaded Asterin for the fifth time.

"I've already told you; we danced, he was his usual prick self, and that's it, what more is there to tell?" She dared not look at them, thinking that, especially Kardam, would instantly realise her lie if she looked up. Instead, she focused on the puppies playing with Seraphina, Inara and Asra.

"Oh, you're not fooling us, I know there's something else you're not saying."

"Honestly, I hadn't even realised you'd danced, I was busy being dragged around by someone," Elliot complained, pointing out his disbelief too obviously to Asterin, who merely shrugged, too eager to hear her story to pay him any attention. "I thought you were bitter enemies."

"Oh, my obvious and stupidly naive cousin, of course they’re not-"

"We are! I mean, not enemies, but not friends or allies or anything resembling any kind of relationship," she rolled her eyes, wanting to end the conversation there and grateful for Elliot's obliviousness.

It didn't feel right to lie to her friends, even if it was a small omission of the truth. But she still couldn't tell them what she didn't understand. First she had to find out what the hell had happened, yesterday night and today, and what was going to happen, before she could tell them. After all, if things didn't end well —which was a very likely possibility— she didn't want to have the reminder of them that something had happened at all.

Besides, she didn't want to spend the last day she had with her friends talking about such complicated and frustrating things, she would leave that for later, for the one person she needed to have that conversation with.

Mother, how she now missed the days when the most difficult thing with Nyx was to try not to hate him.

✧₊˚.

Demetria walked through the forest with her heart in her mouth, the hood of her cloak pulled back to hide her face, her breathing was rapid, if anyone found her sneaking out at such hours....

"There you are, I thought you weren't coming."

She stopped in her tracks, but did not look up. They were far from her court, on the border between the Middle and the Winter Court, she didn't know what was more dangerous, the fact that she had done all this behind the backs of her entire family and court, or the place they were in.

Demetria gathered her thoughts and calmed her fears, raising her head and staring at the owner of the voice, her expression sharp as ice, as she pulled her hood down.

"Yes, well, it seems we're both full of surprises, how did you get out of your court?" She raised an eyebrow suspiciously, her eyes itching to use her power to probe into the true intentions behind this encounter, but she held back, waited for whatever was about to be said.

"That's a story for another day, I'm afraid, we don't have much time."

"Then get to the point. Now. Before I find out for myself."

"Accept the deal."

Demetria rolled her eyes and huffed incredulous at what she had just heard. When she snapped out of her astonishment, she burst out laughing, the whole thing had been nothing more than a sad attempt of a joke. A true waste of her time and energy.

"Yeah, no. If you were that bored, you could have said so in your note instead of wasting my time," she was about to turn her back on the cloaked figure and walk away.

"Wait! Just... wait, listen to me," the voice sounded desperate now, pleading.

Demetria considered it for a second, before her curiosity made her give in and turn away as she clenched her jaw.

"Speak. Now, and be very clear."

"Take the deal. Marry that son of a bitch, or at least pretend you will."

"That doesn't sound very clear to me. Why, for the fucking Cauldron's sake, would I do that?"

"Because you can help me save my court, you can help me take that motherfucker down once and for all."

For a moment she stared at the figure in confusion, pulling her eyebrows together and analyzing every word that was said.

"Put an end to what, exactly? Tamlin?"

"Please, he's nothing more than a dog that barks but can't actually bite, it’s his horrible son who takes on his worst traits, but multiplied. He's the one plotting behind your back, plotting even behind Tamlin's back, he's tired of his father not taking steps to hunt you down and marry you to him, or kill you so you're not a threat to his plans."

"He plans..." Her face fell as she comprehended each word and tied her own conclusions, her face pale much worse than natural. "He plans to kill his father, ascend to High Lord."

That would be bad, to say the least. Abraxas was anything but a leader, he would lead the courts into civil wars, he would feud with every High Lord who disagreed with him and, being the manipulative bitch that he was, he would probably twist the narrative of her powers to gain the support of those he could manipulate into fearing her.

The cloaked figure nodded, then spoke again."He wants to destroy you and your court for the humiliation you have subjected him to, and..."

"And what?" Getting no answer, Demetria took a step closer, gritting her teeth. “And what?”

"And... he wants to destroy the Night Court, turn other courts against all of you, get revenge for what Feyre and Rhysand did to Tamlin. Ridiculous, isn't it? He wants to kill his father, blame the High Lady and the High Lord for it, and then use it all as an excuse to start a Mother damned war all over again."

"That's... that's not possible," she tried to laugh it all off, refusing to see what was in front of her. "He'd be a new High Lord, too young, they won't take him seriously, let alone knowing what Tamlin himself did in the past."

But when again there was no answer to that, Demetria felt her heart give a flutter at the hole in the plot that still remained to be filled.

"What aren't you telling me?" She asked, startled by the silent answer.

"He already has the support of Eris's nephew, who would gladly put a knife through his cousin's heart to get to the throne."

She knew Rein, he was an absolute imbecile like his father, and just as bitter about not having been the one to gain power. He was very influential in the Autumn Court, those who had been his father's supporters were now his, the court could be divided if he could get just enough to win even more support. Exposing her secret would be a perfect way, for example.

"Just... just him?"

"No, not just him. I don't know how, but he contacted the Prince of Vallahan, you know very well they didn't accept any peace deal long ago after the war with Hybern, peace is not an option, certainly especially not now. And, he's also getting support from Dawn, probably, if he plays his cards right, if you or the Night Court make a mistake."

Demetria took a step back, her mouth suddenly so dry that she had to swallow twice and lick her lips to moisten them again.

That would put three of the seven Courts against them, not to mention a whole other kingdom, and, even if they had secured the support from Amren and her daughter, therefor of Varian, he was merely a Prince, not the High Lord, and Tarquin had daughter, if she too was convinced…

"Demetria they... they know about your secret, they all know about it.”

She dared not blink, she dared not breathe, she could not think straight. How was it possible, how had all this happened?

After several minutes of feeling her heart in her throat, she swallowed hard and finally got up the courage to look up and speak, her voice firmer than her legs felt.

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked, more wary of the whole situation, of this help.

"Because we can help each other, if we work together. I will help you avoid a war against your court and that of your friends, and, you will help me become the next High Lady of the Spring Court after we both kill my horrible brother."

Demetria stared into Selah's green eyes when her cloak fell off her head and noticed a spark she had never seen in the female's always dull and drab eyes. Demetria didn't have to read her soul to know that the firstborn of the Spring Court was ready to take her throne, to whatever ends.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar oc #demetria and nyx #nyx x demetria #nyx archeron #demetria acotar #nyx fanfic #night court #winter court #spring court #rhysand #feyre #tamlin #kallias #viviane #high lord of the winter court #high lord of the night court #high lord of the spring court #acomaf #acowar #acosf

[shallyne]

Please just imagine Rhys doing typical Dad things

-Telling dad jokes

-Being weirdly obsessed with barbecues

-Never remembering the names of Nyx's friends

-Refusing to admit that they fell asleep like

"Rhys you fell asleep"

"No Feyre, I was resting my eyes."

-Sneezing obnoxiously loud

I NEED ALTERNATE UNIVERSE DAD RHYS NOW LMAO

#Acotar #A court of thorns and roses #ACOSF #A court of Silver Flames #Rhys #Rhysand #High Lord Rhysand #High Lord of the Night Court #Feysand #Nyx #Nyx archeron

[theladyofdeath]

I Burn for You {Two}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction. Elriel. Period AU. 19th Century. Written alongside @snelbz .

Click here to read the summary and for more chapters!

A/N: It's about to get real. We're almost done writing all 10 chapters and I cannot wait to share the rest of this story with you all. Enjoy! T/W: None

Dear Azriel,

I’ll be returning from the Autumn Court later this week and find myself in need of your company. I’ve missed you in these months apart. Perhaps we can have lunch in the park? Or, we can meet at the academy and paint something new? It would be nice to see you.

Considering I have not heard from you since we parted, I assume you are in Velaris and anxiously awaiting my return. I shall stop by your home in a few days and we can make a plan unless I hear from you beforehand.

Sincerely,

Gwyn

Her penmanship was horrible but Azriel could decipher it nonetheless. He could tell that she had no formal education but he was surprised by her grammar. The letter, which had come out of nowhere, made him smile.

He supposed that was significant these days. 

His favorite thing about Gwyn was that she was a good listener. She was a pusher, too, in the most obnoxious of ways, but he liked it. She always made him share more than he wanted to, but it usually benefited him. He always felt a little lighter after his long, heartfelt talks with Gwyn. 

It was why he’d initially felt so great after returning from their travels. He’d been able to talk through some of his feelings for Elain with Gwyn. She’d been the first person to know he was in love with Elain, had actively pushed him to tell her, to pursue her even.

But towards the end, he’d begun to notice that her eyes lingered on him more and more. Had their time together changed something for her, something she hadn’t revealed before he left her in Autumn, after stopping to visit with her family? She’d promised him she could find travel accommodations back and wasn’t yet ready to leave her sister behind.

If he’d delayed another day with her, he wouldn’t have been here to meet Nyx the day he did. This whole mess with Elain wouldn’t have started, though he was fairly sure that it started at Rhysand’s wedding, but still.

Bottom line was that he missed Gwyn. He was glad to hear she was back in Velaris, glad to have his friend and confidant back.

Even if he’d begun to consider what a life with her would be like.

Perhaps that was how he found himself standing in front of a canvas full of oranges and browns and yellows and reds. The color of the leaves of her home.

He had never seen Gwyn as an outsider, someone who didn’t fit in. She had plenty of friends at the academy, but in Velaris, she was just another pretty face on the street that you could walk by without knowing.

In Autumn, she was staggering. It seemed everything there complimented her. The leaves and expansive forests, the rough stone buildings, even the crystal clear lakes and rivers she’d shown him.

His favorite had been the exact color of her eyes. Azriel had enjoyed their time in Autumn, even though it had been more brief than any of the other courts they visited.

Except for Spring. They skipped Spring entirely, the perennially stagnant smell of flowers and constant humming of insects appealing to neither of them.

Gwyn had shown her all of her favorite haunts growing up.

He had found it charming.

Graciously interrupting his alone time once again, Rhysand and Cassian burst into Azriel’s bedroom. The former cringed while the latter pretended to fall into a coughing fit.

“Please tell me that stench is not you,” Rhysand drawled. 

Azriel frowned, looking around his room. He hadn’t even realized that something smelled. He’d taken multiple baths since they had last come to disrupt his peace. 

Then it hit him. “I was burning incense. I thought it smelled nice.”

“It smells like a gypsy wagon,” Rhysand noted, walking further into the space.

“You would know,” Azriel said, dropping his paintbrush on the base of his easel and wiping his hands on his smock. “You spent enough time in them before you met the Viscountess.” 

Despite himself, Rhysand grinned. There had been a summer, the summer of their twenty-first year, when the three of them met a few gypsies in Winter and spent a month traveling with them. Rhysand had found a gypsy woman near thirty that he had become enamored with and spent the entirety of that month in her caravan. Azriel and Cassian had just made their rounds with the single women that remained.

That was such a different lifetime ago, when they had been young and foolish. 

“I like it,” Azriel went on, but pushed open a window nonetheless. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Supper tonight,” Rhysand said, simply. “It’s about time you came to see your nephew. He and Feyre miss your company and request your presence.” 

The thought of going to a formal supper on such short notice made Azriel uneasy, even if it was just at Rhysand’s.

“Nesta wishes to see you, too,” Cassian added. “She needs to talk to someone about her books and you are the only one that seems to listen.”

Azriel lifted a brow. “You do not listen? As her husband, it seems you should.”

Cassian grinned. “We have far better things to do, I assure you.”

With a shake of his head, Azriel sat on the edge of his bed. “What time is supper?”

“We’ll have tea in an hour. Get dressed and presentable, we’ll wait for you.” That way you can make sure that I’ll go, Azriel thought, but he didn’t blame them. If the roles were reversed, Azriel would be hovering, too. He loved Rhysand and Cassian more than anyone. They were his family. He knew the feeling was mutual between them all. 

The love that they had for Azriel was why they were here, annoying him relentlessly. “Fine, but I’m only doing this for Nyx and your wives.”

Cassian clapped him on the back so hard that he nearly toppled forward. “Good. Hurry.”

Azriel bathed, shaved, and dressed in some of his finest clothes. When he was deemed appropriate by his brothers, he was joining them in Rhysand’s carriage and riding across town to the manor that ran along the Sidra.   

It wasn’t that Azriel did not like joining his brothers for supper, he truly did, but being outside of his house and socializing felt strange after his months of solitude. 

Feyre and Nyx stood in front of the manor as they pulled up, smiling brightly. Feyre had Nyx’s hand in hers, making it look like he was waving as they came to a stop. Rhysand was watching them with so much adoration that it made Azriel shift in his seat.

To no one’s surprise, Rhys was out of the carriage before the doorman was even able to reach for the door, up the manor stairs, and taking his giggling son out of Feyre’s arms. Cassian was out a moment later, holding his hand out for Azriel to take as he exited. He swatted his brother’s hand aside as his boots landed on the ground, looking up to find Feyre’s eyes wide in surprise. Azriel looked around. “Where’s Nesta?”

Feyre, who was looking more confused by the second, took Nyx back from Rhysand. “She’s inside with—”

“With the tea, which must be growing cold,” Cassian interrupted, clapping Azriel on the shoulder as he led him up the stairs, “so let’s head in.”

He could hear Feyre and Rhysand murmuring quietly behind them as they headed for the drawing room where they’d be taking their tea. Nyx thought he was a part of the conversation as well, his excited babbles echoing off the marble tiles. Cassian was talking idly about what ladies he’d heard would be debuting this season and who would be returning to the ton, as if Azriel actually cared what any of the women of society were doing. Save for one.

As they approached the open drawing room doors, a laugh carried out to them. Azriel’s steps slowed and then stopped.

Feyre stepped around him, refusing to make eye contact as she disappeared into the room with her son. Rhysand and Cassian both stopped behind him, and when Azriel slowly turned to face them, they were already waiting for whatever would be coming out of his mouth.

After staring at each other in silence for an ungodly amount of time, Azriel announced, “I’m leaving.”

“Az—”

“Good day.” He was already moving around his brothers, but although Rhysand was the same size and stature as Azriel, Cassian was just a little bit bigger. It was that little bit that made it possible for Cassian to reach out and grab Azriel when Rhysand couldn’t. Azriel came to a stop, his body rigid as Cassian gripped the back of his collar. 

“You’re not leaving,” Cassian said, his voice low. “You’re going to man up and sit through this family dinner, because we miss you and you are a part of this family. And, so is she.”

Her laughter floated into the hall once again and Azriel’s eyes closed. 

Months. It had been months since he had heard that laugh. 

It had been nearly a year since he had been the reason she laughed like that.

When he opened his eyes, he shoved Cassian off of him but didn’t move. He brushed down his jacket, even though there were no wrinkles or dust. “You should not have lured me here under false pretenses. That was unfair.”

“If we told you Elain was present, you would not have joined us,” Rhysand said, shrugging. “We will not let you stay holed up, alone, forever. Cass is right, we miss you. If nothing else, you’re missing watching Nyx grow. Call me selfish, but I do not want you missing that.”

Azriel didn’t want to miss it, either. He loved his nephew and wanted to be a part of his life. He had only seen him once since he was two weeks old, when he first met Nyx, when Rhysand had brought him to visit. 

“Does she know I’m here?” Azriel asked, quietly.

“Feyre is letting her know,” Rhysand said, eyes flickering to the sitting room behind him. “We should probably go inside, don’t you think? We do not want to seem like we’re talking about her out here.”

Azriel scoffed, shaking his head. He hated his brothers. He hated them, and he loved them, and he wanted to challenge them both to a duel and watch as he beat their asses. 

“I require a drink,” Azriel said, looking down at the tile beneath his polished boots. 

“I’ll fill it to the brim,” Rhysand promised and gestured to the sitting room. “Shall we?”

As his shoulders deflated, Azriel took a deep breath and nodded. 

He followed his brothers into the sitting room and as soon as he caught sight of her, he couldn’t breathe. 

Elain sat across from her sisters on the settee, her yellow dress a stark contrast to her long golden brown hair and caramel eyes. As soon as the gentlemen entered, the three sisters stood and curtsied. Azriel could not take his eyes off of her, and when she rose from her curtsy and met his gaze, her cheeks were flushed. 

An awkward tension filled the air that the others quickly tried to cover. 

“Finally, someone to listen to me talk about the novel I just finished,” Nesta said, walking to Azriel and taking his face into her hands so that it was her eyes he met. 

With a smile, Azriel said, “I cannot wait to hear about your most recent literary adventure.”

After planting a kiss on his cheek, Nesta strode to her husband and Azriel could hear the quiet scolding she was giving him. 

Unable to help himself, his eyes drifted back to Elain. Her feet were planted in place as if she was unable to move, so it seemed he would be the one to make the first move. There was only ten feet between them or so, but the walk to her felt like miles. Keeping a healthy distance away, Azriel nodded in greeting. “Good evening, Miss Elain. You look well.”

“As do you, my lord,” she answered, and the use of his title from her mouth was still painful. “It is nice to see you again.”

“When did you return from Spring?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation light, even though it was nothing that he wanted to say. The questions he had for her, however, were not under the sanction of small talk. 

“Just last week,” she replied, her voice quieting. 

Azriel nodded and he felt foolish for not knowing. Rhysand had told him that she would be returning soon, but he hadn’t known when, just that she would be returning before the season began. He supposed the season would begin in a week’s time. It was only a matter of time before she returned. “And did you enjoy your time there?”

Elain looked away from him, towards the table where a vase of roses sat. “Very much so. Thank you for asking, my lord.”

It was too painful. Speaking with her so formally was too painful. Thankfully, Nyx soon became a distraction to all and he no longer had to try and have more of that painful conversation with the woman he had once been in love with.

Was still in love with.

Complicated. It was so complicated. 

As he sat down in a chair opposite of Elain, Azriel tried not to look her way and failed as Rhysand handed him a full glass of whiskey. He wouldn’t drink it too fast. He wouldn’t want to get sloppy, not in front of his family, not in front of Nyx, not in front of Elain. No, he would pace himself. After all, the night was just beginning. 

#elriel #pro elriel #fanfic #fanfiction #rhysand #feyre #feysand #nessian #nesta #cassian #azriel #elain #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #sjm #period au #regency au #historical au #romance au