#Acosf

[ellievickstar]

Bloodied Bonds

A/N: This was...fun. I wanted to fit it all into one part but it was getting too long sooooo yeah.....have fun :)

Summary: When hanahaki disease festers in your lungs, how will your family help you while you hide it from your mate?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

There they were again.

Azriel smiled at Elain with those eyes…those eyes. And in your soul you felt the bond writhe with pain and clench in your chest. You remained still as you immediately brought your eyes to look at the ground beneath you. This hurt. This really hurt. A part of you wanted to deny it, wanted to believe that Azriel would remain faithful to you always, that he would stay true to the mating bond, something he desperately used to want before we got together.

Now, you were not so sure.

“Sweetheart…,” Cassian said from behind me, startling. He knew what you was seeing, saw it in his own brother’s eyes. Azriel may have always been a mystery to everyone else outside the inner circle, but his eyes — his beautiful hazel eyes — showed you everything you needed to know.

“I’m fine,” You waved Cassian off, bringing down shields on the bond, shutting out his emotions, the pain from it, and shutting yourself in as a stray tear slipped down your face, “I’m really fine,” You repeated.

Truth to be told, Cassian did not know what to say to you. After you had defended Azriel since you were kids, brought him to you and Rhysand’s mother, convinced her to take him in. Cassian did not know what could come over Azriel to internally betray you in this way. However as you began coughing Cassian was alarmed when you raced towards the kitchen sink and coughed out flower petals, one after another.

“What the hell-” He started, moving to pull back your hair as he observed what you had coughed out. Blood and petals coated the sink and as you choked them out one by one, slowly calming down, you waved your hand magicking it away. And it was then it hit him.

You were dying.

“Explain. Now.” He demanded. Looking away you mumbled.

“A few weeks ago after I first realised he loved her, I started coughing up flowers and my tears, my tears turned a gold colour. I asked Madja what was wrong. It’s a soul disease called hanahaki, caused by the betrayal of the heart and unrequited love. The tears were caused by the same thing, a unique symptom that is because of my magic due to being the High Lord’s sister. She said the flowers in my lungs will continue to grow until it suffocates me and I die. The star tears are just a symptom that causes physical pain, she doesn’t know if there will be any repercussions from it,” That’s all you managed to ramble out before you doubled over and heaved again, blood dripping out of your gaping mouth as you choked and coughed on the flower petals making their way up your throat.

Cassian was at a loss of words, on one hand he wanted to be angry, angry at you for keeping this from him, for not telling him sooner so he could beat the crap out of Azriel. On the other hand he was…devastated. You had always been like a sister to him, since he first met you as a kindred and fierce spirit when you were seven years old. The three of them had been twenty and Cassian had fell to his knees before the little girl with such a bright spirit, who dared to scream in Devlon’s face when he said females belonged in the kitchen.

Cassian had sworn to protect you.

And now, against a disease he felt helpless.

“Is there a cure?” He asked.

“Madja said there were two ways, either Azriel proves that he still loves me, which we both know won’t happen when he won’t stay away from Elain for more than a few hours, or I could have the flowers cut from their roots and removed, it’s a risky procedure and even successful all my feelings towards Azriel will be removed entirely, given the mating bond, she thinks it will be stripped from my soul. I….I wanted to wait.”

“So you either have your emotions robbed from you, make Azriel realise he’s an idiot, or die?”

You nod.

“Tell Azriel,” “I can’t!” You hissed, “We both know I can’t. He loves her, Cassian, I can feel it, I can see it, everytime he looks at her it’s like she’s the one who hung the stars and moon while when he looks at me that light dies!” You bang your fist on the table.

You point to where Azriel and Elain was far out in the gardens. His shadows no where to be seen, both blissfully unaware of what was going on inside with you and Cassian.

“He acts like she’s the one who went through countless of interrogation, of torture, when she got captured by enemies. He acts like she was the one who protected Velaris with Rhysand when she went under the mountain to be taken advantage of, when Amarantha held me down and tried to force answers out of me,” You let out another pained cry as you slid to the ground, “I have done everything for him, been through hell and back with him. And even after everything he still wants her, still wants to be with her, still doesn’t want me.”

Cassian brought you closer to him as he sat next to you and let you cry on his shoulder.

You cried and cried, and cried until there was nothing left. Cried until you couldn’t cry.

And when you finally fell asleep from exhaustion, Cassian glanced out the house to the gardens where his brother trailed Elain, and Cassian made a decision.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“You told my brother!?” You shrieked. Rhysand and Cassian was now sitting around you in Rhys’s study.

“You told Cassian before me?” Rhysand shot back. You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, “Oh please I didn’t tell him anything I was throwing up flowers in front of him, not much I could do except explain.”

Shaking his head, Rhys sighed as he glanced at Cassian and they both shared a look. Narrowing your eyes, the tendrils in your mind crept towards your brother and the general, and surprise coated your face when you realised they had shut you out.

“Let me remind you what I do is my choice.”

“Not when your life is at stake,” Rhysand retorted.

So he had decided something against your will already. Of course, your brother who wanted to help everyone, your brother who thought you were his responsibility, his burden to bear. Your brother who claimed to value your opinion oh so much but then never, not once, ever considered how you feel in anything that had to do with you.

“He doesn’t care. I haven’t even been actively hiding it from him, it’s just that he’s never around to notice,” You said bitterly, “Did you know he missed my birthday? You all did. Because usually he’s the one going around reminding everyone the week before. Did you know our anniversary passed and I had waited for him all day just to realise he was with her?” Stray tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to hold them back.

Crying meant that you were weak.

And you hated being weak.

That was when Cassian spoke, “Have Madja remove the flowers.”

Rhysand shot a look at him.

“She won’t survive otherwise. Even as we discuss this now she is running out of time, Rhys. Azriel’s infatuation with Elain is unforgivable and at least this way we can save her. Their relationship might never be the same but if Azriel is truly in love with Elain as she feels, then it is possible this way everyone wins.”

“I don’t want the male who almost killed my sister in my court,” Rhys bit out.

“Convincing Azriel that what he is doing is wrong will take too long. Maybe we should have interfered when it first started but now it’s too late. We can still save her, really save her. Not their relationship but at least she’ll live,” “And live with a bond that will eventually diminish into nothing?” “Maybe it’s better that way.”

Glancing between Cassian and your brother, your own inner turmoil seemed to be playing out in front of you as they discussed everything that you had not been able to come to terms with yourself. A part of you could still hardly believe that Azriel would do something like this, hurt you in this way when he himself swore that he would be loyal for eternity.

Mates.

A sacred connection that determined your equal, your partner in everything.

But your parents were mates too…and that did not work out well. So maybe it was time for you to let your mate go.

However, as you opened your mouth to agree with Cassian, to agree that maybe the best option would be to remove the flowers directly, the consequences of your feelings being stolen be damned, a cough climbed up your throat.

And as you coughed out bloody petals onto Rhysand’s office floor….everything went dark.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

It had all happened quickly, too quickly for Rhysand’s liking.

One moment he was debating with Cassian how they would save his sister’s life, the next moment as she was about to say something and he watched in horror as blood came out instead of words. Her eyes drooped and he raced to catch her from hitting her head on the hard wooden floors, and as his ears started ringing, holding his sister’s lifeless body in his arms, as he watched golden tears stream out of her eyes, he noticed there was someone screaming.

And it was not until his throat hurt, until his own throat burned, that he realised he was the one screaming, crying out loud for his sister who’s body seemed as lifeless as the one he had lost all those years ago.

“Get Madja!” He roared at Cassian, “Get her NOW!”

Less that a minute went by when Morrigan and Feyre came into the room, Feyre let out a horrified gasp as Mor took in the scene, freezing as she realised her cousin, her best friend, her only companion during the times after Eris and Keir, was in Rhysand’s arms, still and lifeless even as blood trickled out of her mouth and gold spilled form her closed eyelids.

Madja came shortly after, and Y/N’s body was moved to a different room for Madja to work, Cassian explaining what happened and the illness in Y/N’s body that was causing this. Morrigan took a few steps back, before she crashed into the wall of the hallway and let out her own sob.

And for the first time after Rhysand and Y/N had returned from the mountain, Morrigan wept.

Two days passed, and Y/N did not wake.

Madja estimated that they would have to make a decision within the week whether they would tell Azriel, or cut the flowers out.

And in those two days Azriel did not come.

It was only after Rhysand had asked him to meet, told him about Y/N did Azriel finally realised he had not seen his mate in days. That he had not even spent more than fifteen minutes with her in the past few months.

It was only after Rhysand said that Y/N was dying, did Azriel reach down the now cold and empty bond, and realise he had shut her out. And when he let his walls down, experienced the agony, the pain, the grief she felt even in her unconscious state, did Azriel regret.

“Why didn’t she tell me…” Azriel whispered.

“Because she heard you when I told you to stay away from Elain. I looked into her mind and I realised the day her disease started she went to find you, and you had been in my office, yelling at me that the cauldron had made a mistake, that you wanted Elain,” Rhysand laughed coldly. Even Rhys in all his beauty, his eyes were now red from sobbing, his voice hoarse from how he had cried, and cried.

“Good job, Azriel,” Cassian said from the doorway, “You got what you wanted. Your bond will no longer exist once she awakes…that’s if she survives even.”

“No….I don’t,” Azriel muttered, “Rhysand…what conversation?” Rhysand furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you really playing this game with me now? My sister is DYING! AND YOU WANT TO PRETEND LIKE YOU FORGOT WHAT YOU SAID!?”

Azriel’s eyes looked back and forth between his brother’s….when did he…when did he even get here?

Where was his mate?

Why did it feel like something just cleared from his head?

That was when Elain stepped in, holding a mug and what looked to be tea.

“Azriel, i heard your distress, drink this it will make you feel better,” She said softly, but as Rhysand’s eyes narrowed on the mug, it was Cassian who snatched it out of her hands, brought it to his eyes and shattered it on the already ruined hard wood floors.

“That was not just tea.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

And as Cassian lifted his head he declared, “As General of the Night court, I arrest you for illegal possession and use of aphrodisiacs. You are charged with attempted murder of the Princess of the Night Court. You are charged with manipulation and forced betrayal of the court’s spymaster,” And with a menacing grin Cassian said, “And you are charged because you bloody annoy me and you…what you have done today makes me want to rip you to shreds.”

A beat passed.

“That is….” Cassian continued as he glanced at Azriel, with each blink clarity seemed to return to the shadowsinger as he processed everything, as he remembered everything Elain made him do, as he remembered how he had hurt his mate, “That is if Azriel decides he doesn’t want to kill you first.”

Elain let out a scoff, looking down at the spilled tea and broken pieces of ceramic in disgust, “Azriel loves me. Azriel should love me not that disgusting slut of a female, she might be a princess but she is-,” “Mine.” Azriel interrupted.

“She was mine before you interfered. She was mine before you made me break her.” Azriel turned, no doubt to go find Y/N.

“Start counting your days, Elain, because now they are numbered.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Azriel taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl

Part 2 coming.....tell me if you wanna be tagged :3

Love, Ellie.

#acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel imagine #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #rhysand #cassian #morrigan #feyre #elain

[copypastus]

@nestaarcheronweek Day 3 - Self Care

Self care is calling your sister's bluff and moving away from the Night Court instead of to the House of Wind.

Listen, I fully believe if Nesta and Tamlin got to compare notes on how the NC treats them they could have bonded. And it would be hilarious.

Bonus twitchy Tamlin reaction picture free to use.

Second one too. I'm generous like that.

#my art #acotar #acotar fanart #acosf #nesta archeron #tamlin #NestaWeek2024 #let them be friends #call out the double standards #go on a healing journey #ngl depressta is my fav nesta #neslin

[rainingriversofyou]

Starborn, Fireheart & Lady Death - CC, TOG & ACOTAR

Artist: renata_watsonn

#renata_watsonn #bryce quinlan #starborn #crescent city #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin fireheart #throne of glass #nesta archeron #lady death #a court of silver flames #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #hofas #hosab #hoeab #tog #crescent city fanart #cc fanart #tog fanart #tog art #acotar art #acotar fanart #acosf art #acosf fanart #cc3 hofas #cc hofas #sarah j maas #sjm fanart #book art

[pit-and-the-pen]

Unrequited Love

A/N: I had to get to the airport to return a rental car like 5 hours early so I’m so sorry for the pure amount that I’ve been posting today but as a socially awkward girly, if I’m on my own phone then for sure no one is going to talk to me.

Anywho here is some angsty angst about day court!reader and Azriel. I’m thinking of making this like a mini series but idk who reader would end up with. (Let me know if you have any suggestions!)

Forgive any typos I wrote this on my phone.

Warnings: none

WC-1.4K

————————————————————————

My blood was boiling beneath my skin. Azriel has been complaining for the better part of an hour about Rhys gag order regarding Elain. I was trying not to roll my eyes as I had reached my wits end with his lamenting.

“I just don’t understand why he needs to meddle in this. I get she’s Feyre's sister but he doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “I just can’t help but think that sometimes the cauldron gets it wrong.”

His words were spoken so plainly. Anger wanes for a second as I swear I could feel my heart break inside my chest. The words seemed to echo in my head Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. I almost would have rather had him carve out my heart with truth teller.

“What do you think?” He asks me and I sit reeling over his words. I can’t think of anything to say to him. The comforting words I would normally have for him can’t get past the anger starting to cloud my vision. So I simply shrug, avoiding the question. Desperately trying to change the subject.

“So this new book I’m reading…”

“Oh c’mon.” He interrupts me. “I know you have something to say. And I trust your advice more than anyone else. There isn’t anyone else I would rather talk to about this.” His eyes softened as he looked towards me. Instead of melting under his gaze like I normally do, red bites at the edge of my vision.

“I think you should leave her the hel alone.” My tone is not gentle. He freezes.

“What?”

“She has a mate already. And regardless of if you think the cauldron got it right. Lucien is the one mated to Elain,” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “And Lucien is a wonderful male who has been through a lot of shit. He deserves someone as sweet as Elain, if she ever comes around. You should stop meddling.”

His mouth opens, when no words come out, he closes it again. You see the muscles in his jaw tick as he clenches his teeth.

“What has gotten into you? When did you become Lucien’s spokesperson?” He spits at me. His face starts to get closer to mine as he leans over the table, slowly starting to rise to his feet.

The sane part of me is telling me to stand down. That one of the most powerful warriors in all of Prythian was starting to get angry at me. My mate was starting to get mad at me. But I would not cave under his intimidation.

“I became his spokesperson when you showed no respect for him. Or for Elain.” I noticed I was starting to get to my feet. “What about what she wants? She doesn’t owe you anything more than she owes Lucien. Rhys told you to stay away from a girl you feel entitled to and now you want to mope like a petulant teenager. Grow up Azriel.” He flinches before something stoney sets in his eyes.

“At least I’ve actually told her how I felt. What about you?” My stomach drops into my knees. “Sitting and pining over the same person for a century.”

“You knew?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper. This was not happening. I should have left when I had the chance.

“It’s not like you tried to hide it. I thought at some point you would get the hint that it wasn’t going to happen but yet there you always were trailing behind me like a sad little puppy.”

My hands on the table started to glow faintly. My anger was finally breaking through the surface.

“You asshole. You stupid Illyrian bastard.” The smirk that graced his face fell instantly. “After everything that I’ve done for you, you want to use my feelings for you as some fucking weapon against me.”

Even I was surprised at the venom in my words but I was on a roll. “I sat by for five hundred years. I sat by as you pined over Mor, someone I consider my sister. I felt that bond go unreturned.” He completely froze at my words. Words I have never spoken out loud to anyone.

“Wait-“

“No. You get to hear this shadowslinger.” I pressed my finger to his chest and he stepped back like I had hit him. A small part of me wishes I had. But this. This right here is why Rhys kept me around. I didn’t need to throw a punch to put someone on their knees.

“I followed you around like a lost puppy and you loved it. Every second of it. I was stupid enough at some point to believe that it was because you felt it too. And I couldn’t get away from those feelings,could get away from you. Every time I tried I would damn near drive myself crazy and then you would smile or say some funny joke and I was right back to where I started.” I willed the slight shake in my voice to disappear. “You just wanted to feel important because the one you truly loved wouldn’t have even entertained the thought. Took other males into her bed, but not you right? So why not go for the next available thing. Me. Who cares if I got hurt? Who cares that I still fucking loved you through all of it? Not you clearly. You played me like a fucking fiddle and I played my part well.”

When I finally looked back up at his face I saw nothing but a shell of the male that stood in front of me. Even his shadows had retreated from his side. Looking down I realized they were sitting at my feet. I pushed down the glimmer of something I didn’t have time to think about at the sight.

“Please. Just stop.” He pleaded.

“Why? Because it hurts to hear? Fuck you. “And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I watched him pale. “You didn’t think it killed me to feel that empty weight in my chest every time I looked at you. Everyday that I waited and wished that you would feel that stupid bond I’ve had to live with for the last two centuries.”

He gasped at my words cutting me off

“You never told me about that. I just thought it was… I don’t know… I thought it was a crush like how I felt with Mor”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I shouldn’t have had to! The whole point is that you feel it too. Bonds aren’t supposed to be one sided but for some gods unknown reason, you didn’t,” I felt the anger really starting to boil over.

“Every time I heard you rambling on and on about how perfect Mor was, about the females you took into your bed. I sat by all of it, for what? Three sisters for three brothers?!” I was screaming now, my hands shaking by my side

“What happens when she’s all fixed up too Azriel? When she feels this same thing I feel when she looks at Lucien. Onto the next one for me to hear about I guess . Always on the sidelines. Always the sweet face to come back to at the end of the day but never the one you want to be with.” I took a deep breath for the words about to come out of my mouth, steeling my nerves.

“I’m done. With this. With you. Fuck this entire gods damned city. I will not sit by and play second to whoever you deem worthy enough for the rest of my life.”

He held up his hand like he was going to reach up for me but the light that was glowing off my skin was warning enough.

“Where will you go?” Was all he had the nerve to say.

I let out a cold, twisted laugh. “Anywhere but here. Hel I could finally go home. Helion has

been asking me to come back for years now. All I know it will be somewhere where you can’t come and ruin another half a century of my life. Because that’s what you did. I wasted all this time on someone I knew wouldn’t love me. But I can agree with you on something, Azriel.” I paused long enough to see the hope in his eyes as he whispered “what?”

“That sometimes the cauldron does get it wrong.”

I walked out of that room with my head held high

#acomaf #acosf #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar #acowar #azriel angst #azriels kinda dick in this one #I promise I love him but this popped into my head #azriel x reader #azriel x you #no happy ending #a court of thorns and roses #i make no apologies #well maybe a little

[podemechamardek]

@nestaarcheronweek | Day Two: Metamorphosis

“I feel nothing”, Nesta said silently. […]

“Is that not what you wanted? To feel nothing?”

“I thought that was what I wanted. […] But no longer. […] I want to feel everything. I want to embrace it with my Whole heart.”

“Even the things that hurt and hunt you?” Only curiosity laced the question.

Nesta allowed herself a breath to ponder it, stilling her mind once more. “We need those things in order to appreciate the good. Some days might be more difficult than others, but… I want to experience all of it, live through all of it. With them.”

That wise, soft voice whispered, “So live, Nesta Archeron.” – A Court of Silver Flames, Chapter 77

Although Nesta transforms in more than one way, her embracing life in its entirety, with its ups and downs, as opposed to not caring about her own death as long as she no longer felt anything, will always be my favorite transformation.

To represent this, I asked Pablo to illustrate Nesta in two moments: the trauma of being submerged in the cauldron manifesting itself during the bath and her swimming serenely. Pablo even suggested that we use John Everett Millais’ Ophelia as a reference, because of the colors, but the idea that Nesta, as opposed to Ophelia, ends up alive because she chose to live, warms my heart and I’m very happy to finally share this illustration.

Art by: Pablo Souza (pablochmn)

Commissioned by: @podemechamardek

🚫 Please do not repost.

#nestaweek2024 #nesta archeron #nestha archeron #nesta #nessian #a court of silver flames #acosf #art #art commission: acotar

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Nesta truly deserves the best kind of self-care to celebrate @nestaarcheronweek aka a stack of romance novels and no one bothering her!

Cannot thank @/brunagarretart enough for bringing this gorgeous art to life! Obsessed with all the details including Nesta's soft expression, the book titles, and, of course, her shoulder freckles. 😍

Please do not repost without credit and don't feed into AI programs.

#nestaweek2024 #nesta archeron #acotar #acosf

[purple-writer8]

Suburban Legends - ACOTAR

Azriel x Winter Court Reader

“When you hold me, it holds me together.”

warnings: unrequited love, pining, evil thoughts, intrusive thoughts, lesser fae thinks shes not enough, hating on girl, self doubt, self loathing, reader is a handful, ice powers, groping, lesser fae slander

1.7k words

Part Two to Heather

Masterlist :)

He kissed you. Azriel kissed you. And then you winnowed away, because he kissed you in a way that you knew would screw you up forever. Because Azriel could never love you. You were not soft like Elain, were not some soft baker with beautiful High Fae features.

No. You were just a winterling. A lesser fae that iced everything around her. You paced the House of Wind, paced and paced through the entire manor— scared out of your mind of seeing Azriel again. Why would he kiss you?

Your mind raced and raced and raced.

Azriel deserved someone better than you, he deserved Elain. Not some winterling that got jealous because of a sweater, jealous and you two weren’t even together. Oh, you were so embarrassed— you wanted to die. You got a quick snack in the kitchen, thanking the house for it, and then you rushed up to your room.

Cauldron, you would die of embarrassment if you saw Azriel.

The way that he kissed you, it killed you, because you knew that you were doomed. How were you supposed to live now that you had tasted him? He had kissed you out of pity, you were sure. Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do.

As you ate your chips and dip, you noticed a shadow slithering underneath your door. You ignored it. He probably just wanted to know if you were freaking out or something.

You heard footsteps outside your door and froze when they stopped in front of it. You whispered a curse when your plate with your snack turned to ice, you really had to start controlling your powers.

A knock sounded against the wood of your door, and you wanted to die. You could feel the ice appearing through your body, invading your skin as it did whenever you were in distress— a winterling defense mechanism. You remained silent, unmoving, and after not answering the door for minutes, the shadow and it’s singer left— footsteps disappearing down the hall.

You were tempted to run out of your room and go after him but you were never going to do that. You would die of embarrassment if Azriel simply rejected you, telling you that he only kissed you because he felt bad.

-

Azriel knocked on your door every night for an entire week, maybe to reject you, or maybe to send you on a mission. You were not sure, but you had barricaded yourself in your room. If you were needed for a mission, Rhysand would reach you, you were sure. Your room had turned into a winter wonderland, your anxiety making your ice powers almost uncontrollable— and frankly unbearable. You were sure you had frost bite by now.

A knock sounded to your door, and instantly you turned to it, watching for the shadow that would always check on you when Azriel came. But no shadow appeared. “Darling? It’s me.”

Surely you could die from embarrassment when you heard the High Lord outside your door. You whimpered when more ice manifested from your fingertips, it fucking hurt and you were sure your fingers could be thawed off your hands any moment now.

Dark majestic talons caressed your mind, and you were tempted to let them in— but instead reinforced the walls that kept Rhysand out, because how fucking embarrassing is it to let your High Lord see how you’ve iced your entire room just because a guy doesn’t want you.

You are supposed to be better than that. But you weren’t.

“Open the door,” the High Lord ordered, and you complied.

His violet eyes widened when he took in the state of your room. “I… What… I… Ice.” Was all he managed to say as he stepped into the room, shivering as the cold hit him.

You smiled awkwardly, unnaturally, “hey.”

“So when Cassian said you turned his room into ice… he meant this?” Rhysand asked and you nodded, awkwardly shifting your weight on your feet. His eyes took in your form and you almost covered your face, but you didn’t. Because the one person who knew all your flaws and ugliness was your High Lord, and he accepted you that way.

It wasn’t a pretty sight when you lost control. As a winterling lesser, the powers that you had were all ice ones. You could wield ice from your fingertips, and when distress happened upon your body— ice bloomed through your flesh, because your blood turned cold. You weren’t good at controlling them; so when anxiety hit you, your veins turned black and you froze everything around you.

Every vein in your body was noticeable, your eyes were white, and you were covered in ice.

Rhysand was probably disgusted by you.

“Azriel says you’ve been cooped up here since game night. Says you won’t open the door for him.” Rhysand stated as he looked around your room, blinking slowly as he took in all of your belongings being frozen.

“For him. But I opened the door for you,” you answered sheepishly.

“He let me know what happened… that night when he went to get you outside… I…” You put your hand up when he said those words.

“I know. I know. He doesn’t like me. I was stupid to complain about a sweater. I mean, my audacity, right?” You laughed dryly. Rhysand frowned, eyeing you— then eyeing your room.

With a snap of his fingers, your room was back to normal. “We’re going out to Rita’s tonight, join us,” Rhysand stated simply, and you were about to decline, but his stern gaze told you that it was a command— not a suggestion.

“I would much rather stay in,” you try anyways. Rhysand shakes his head. “So you could drown in ice and self pity? Get a grip, darling.”

You don’t admit that it hurts. It was not self pity, it was self hate, loathing. You ultimately nod, because you know he is not gonna let you just wallow in your sadness even though it’s all that you want. “Talk to him,” Rhysand said before winnowing away.

You scoffed at nothing. Absolutely not. If he rejected you, which you were sure he would, it would cause you more self hate than you could ever deal with.

You got ready that night in your usual attire. Glittering gowns with diamonds that resembled little snowflakes, reminiscent of your origins. You would look at the clock as you did your hair, and when ten pm rolled around and Azriel did not knock like every other night that week— your whole life was ruined.

At eleven you called for Rhysand in your mind so he could take you down to Rita’s and that he did, though the flight was silent. You were not very fond of him ordering you to hang out when you were miserable.

At Rita’s, you wanted to die.

Azriel was there, sitting silently next to Elain. And instantly your evil mind was hoping she got poisoned by the cocktail she was gently and elegantly sipping.

You truly were unlovable and unlikeable, huh?

You could feel those hazel eyes on you, though no shadows came to greet you. You did not dare meet his gaze because you were sure you would hurl ice all over the floor, so you rushed to find your High Lady and Mor who were chatting by the bar.

They greeted you happily, chatting you up over things you could care less about— because how could you focus when you could see everyone fawning over the shadowsinger in your peripheral vision. He was so magnetic to every fae that it was almost obnoxious.

Feyre started talking about the mating bond with Mor, indulging her in a debate about whether all mates were meant to be. All you could do was fantasize about you and Azriel, mismatched as you may be, surprising the whole court by being mates.

A fae can dream.

A male appeared out of the blue— a handsome male— and he asked you to dance. You indulged him. It was better than standing there pretending to care about Feyre and Mor’s conversation. You loved them, but your mind was elsewhere.

The male danced to the music, swaying along with you, his eyes focused on your white ones. “Shit… I can imagine you sucking my cock with those looking up at me… a perfect lesser fuck,” you gasped at his lewd words because, what the fuck?!

Your heart thudded and you smelled danger, so you gave him an awkward smile and stepped back from him, only for him to snake one strong arm around your waist, tugging you close. “I-Uh, have to go,” you chuckled nervously, looking around for your friends, though the sea of people dancing made it near impossible for you to see their usual booth.

“What does a little lesser like you have to do that is better than being with me?” He asked, leaning down to your ear, an act that sent shivers down your spine. Fear. Which was stupid because you were a spy for the Night Court, you could handle him.

Before you could even snap at him, his hand groped your behind, causing you to gasp and push him away— but in that moment he was stronger, so he tugged you right back to his bulky body. “Who do you think you are?” You scoffed at him, a snarl on your face.

“I’m taking you home tonight, lesser.”

“Over my dead body.” The man stumbled backwards as he looked over your shoulder, to the shadowsinger that had appeared between the crowd. Every fae in the room turned to look at Azriel, at the icy rage that surfaced on his perfect face. He parted the crowd as he stood there, his wings tucked tight as he glared at the High Fae that had been harassing you.

A comforting shadow slinked to you, wrapping around your icy wrist gently. Its gentleness was a stark contrast to the sheer anger it’s master exuded from his being.

“Fuck… I didn’t know… didn’t know she was yours, shadowsinger.”

“Now you know not to fucking touch my mate.”

-

Author’s Note:

this definitely needs a part three i know

General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs

Series Taglist: @illiicits @dee-writes-smut @going-through-shit @saltedcoffeescotch @evergreenlark

#Spotify #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acotar #acowar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel supremacy #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar fic #batboys x reader #batboys

[dustjacketdraws]

She did not feel the cold as she sank into the sea that had no bottom, no horizon, no surface. But she felt the burning.

Immortality was not a serene youth.

It was fire.

It was molten ore poured into her veins, boiling her human blood until it was nothing but steam, forging her brittle bones until they were fresh steel.

And when she opened her mouth to scream, when the pain ripped her very self in two, there was no sound. There was nothing in this place but darkness and agony and power-

They would pay. All of them.

Starting with the cauldron.

Starting now.

@nestaarcheronweek for day 2: metamorphosis

#nesta archeron #fanart #acotar #acosf #dustjacketdraws #nestaweek2024

[hunnyy-bunnyyy]

It's not a mask of cruelty if you're actually being cruel. A mask is letting rumors run rampant, and even starting some yourself; being cruel is drugging, sexually assaulting, and publicly humiliating somebody who is trying to save you, your land, and your people from a heinous dictator.

#anti rhysand #ITS NOT A MASK YOURE JUST A BAD PERSON #acotar #acowar #acosf #acomaf #anti sjm #anti acomaf #anti acowar #anti acosf #anti acofas

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 10: An Unfamiliar World

Summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know. 

Chapter Summary: Nyra tries to recall her memories from the Cauldron which includes the silhouettes of unfamiliar people. Rhys's sister makes an appearance. Nyra confronts Nesta. Shadows are supportive little darlings.

A/N: I am immensely thankful to @stormhearty. Your friendship is something precious for the real me who is a slightly crazy woman who loves food and fictional men. Thank you for helping me with this chapter. I will continue to fangirl over characters from books and manhwa with you.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

Nyra's POV

Approximately an hour was left for dinner. I was still sitting by the window in Elain's bedroom. Nesta was sitting on the armchair across me and the occupant of the room was still unconscious.

None of us were talking but I could hear the Cauldron cry as if it was in the same room. Its cries and pleas which I did not want to hear. Not after what it did to my sisters. I closed my eyes and remembered it.

It was cold and lonely in this place. The sensation on my body made it seem like I was floating. And then there was a rip. Pain shot through me. Pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I could not move. Could not open my eyes to see what was going on. It started from my head, from between the eyes. And then it was there, on my chest. I felt like something was being taken from me and that my body was desperately clinging on to it.

It was exhausting. I don’t even know if I was crying. And then pain vanished. I was someplace warm now. I opened my eyes and saw the darkness around me. I was a silhouette of light. Underneath me, a body floated. My body. My weak, mortal body. I was still connected to it. A single glowing string continued to connect me.

And then there were whispers behind me. I turned around and saw other silhouettes. There were many. Each of them were standing at a different distances from me. All of them with glowing eyes. They were different in appearance—different heights, build, sex, skin colour, hair colour, clothing and so much and yet, the only thing that was common was the glowing eyes. I noticed that only one of them did not have glowing eyes. In fact, her eyes were closed. She was the one standing closest to me. A young girl with large bat-like wings.

My entire being felt a pull. I looked around trying to identify the source. It was that string connecting me to my body that floated in the abyss. I looked behind at the figures and found them facing me. Even the young girl with closed eyes. Everyone except the girl lifted their hands and a string flowed out from their palms towards me. With a bundle of strings in my hands, I let them go. The strings floated around me. I waved my hands and with knowledge I did not know I possessed, I manipulated the strings.

They weaved themselves under my guidance into something. A string from my own palm emerged and joined the creation. Whatever that was finally created, came to rest in my arms and I held it. I looked at the body below me and dropped the thing on it.

I had created a body which was merging with the mortal one that floated. The golden body and my own body were merging. I felt more strings from those behind me and I pushed them towards the merging bodies. Something happened. It seemed to help with the merger. And the final product was complete. I looked behind at the figures and they were looking at me, not with glowing eyes but with their own eyes. Approval, happiness, determination, pride—many emotions floated in their eyes. All of them giving me the nod to do something.

I looked at the girl whose eyes were still closed but this time, her lips were parted. And her young voice spoke. “You were poisoned.” I froze.

Another voice from behind her spoke. “You fought well.” It was a woman—tall and larger than women. Easily six feet.

The girl spoke again, her voice pained. “He has been waiting for so long.” And her hand darted forward to push me towards the new body that had been created.

Something stopped me from reaching my body. Some creatures. Many creatures of different shapes and sizes. They were blocking my path. I had to go. The pull was getting stronger. I closed my eyes and the next thing I knew, I was moving—fighting. Like a warrior with practised ease and strength, I was destroying the demons surrounding me.

A familiar presence was nearby. I looked around and felt the gaze of a predator. A familiar presence. I walked closer and identified that to be the one whom I shared a womb in this life. A sibling. What was their name? Was it a girl or a boy? Either way, they shouldn’t be in this place. I raised my hand when I got close enough and pushed them away. Their presence completely vanished and I was left alone with the figures around me.

My fight continued. I won. I walked over to the body waiting for me like a vessel to fill it. A pained cry caught my attention.

“Please.” It begged. And some stupid part of me walked over and helped it. It was wounded and I healed it. “I am forever in your debt.” We talked a lot and then I walked back and felt my essence enter the body.

Once I had entered the body, I looked around. There was no light, no screams, nothing. Just pure darkness. I lifted my hands and checked them. I was glowing. Energy crackled around me. Something glowed from above me. I looked up and saw a bright thread, the only source of light in this darkness. An identical thread sprouted from my chest and ascended to meet it. I watched as the two thread merge into one, as though they were never separated. And then something grabbed my wrists. It coiled around them like a rope and pulled me upwards.

The next thing I knew, I was exiting the Cauldron. People around me were screaming my name. What was it? I could not even see anything clearly. Wisps of darkness and water blurred my vision to the maximum. Something cool and comfortable was all over me. Some energy. It helped me walk and led me to the source of the shining thread. And then they laid me down and I fell a wave of comfort and relief. And I fell asleep.

There was much more to all of this than what I could comprehend right now. That girl and all the figures lined up behind her. This silence in Elain’s bedroom was too loud. I wanted to scream and run and vomit and do so much, all at the same time. The beast within me was my own self. My real self. My power. At present, she was tame; like a cat curled up for a nap. But the cat was starting to get irritated. It was on the verge of transforming into another feline creature of greater size and power should it be provoked for too long. The only thing calming my inner self was the night sky. The stars were a calming sight.

But why did I feel like this? Like a part of me was absent. And the emptiness was seeping into the rest of me. A desperate feeling of yearning was there. For what? For who? Why? To be yearning so much to the point where it was starting to frustrate me—whose absence was affecting me so? I knew it wasn't father. I did not interact with the man who had been so absent from our lives. During our childhood when we were wealthy, it was a physical absence. During our teenage years when we were poor, it was an emotional absence. When Feyre was taken and we mysteriously became rich, the physical and emotional absence became far too much that I did not bother. We talked only when it was required. With him entrusting the keys of the house to me because he was too afraid to face Nesta, who was the healthier twin.

Was it for Feyre, who had been taken from us only to return as a completely different person? I did not even recognise the girl who came back the first time. A girl with life breathed into her only to tell us about the man she fell in love with. She left to save him. And then she returned as a fae. A broken shell of the woman she had become previously. Her subsequent visits showed improvement but I did not recognise her even then. She was no longer the woman who was our sister. She was free and powerful and independent and that was good for her but my sister had died and a new woman had taken her place. Feyre was no longer our sister in many aspects. And yet she was. But I had this powerful feeling that she would not have come to us after becoming fae if it weren't for the mortal queens and the Book of Breathings.

From what Nesta told me, Elain had begged not to be drowned in the Cauldron and yet she had been the first one to be Made. The woman who went in crying and the woman who returned were two different beings. And now, she was lifeless. The only semblance of who she was could be found in the open curtains. I looked at the sleeping sister. She was pale and thin and the bones of her hand, cheek and neck were too prominent.

Nesta, who had kicked and screamed, before being thrown into the Cauldron. How did she emerge? She hadn’t told me anything. But the woman who was sitting in front of me was withdrawn. She was no longer the panther who waited in the dark before striking. She was a cat who had retired to sleep. Nesta’s claws were no longer sharp.

Then for whom was I feeling so much? This burning sensation. I think I would've cried if I hadn't averted my eyes to look at the sea. Even in the darkness, I could identify where it was after having looked at for so long during the day. So much love, it made me feel like I was bundled up in a velvety blanket. But the other emotions made me feel like the blanket would be ripped away from my body and I would have to wake up to a horrible world.

Nesta's movement began to distract me from my own inner turmoil. She had stood up, walked towards the door, opened it and peeped outside to see if anyone was there and then closed it again. She came back but did not sit down. "We ought to get ready for dinner."

"I suppose we should." I stood up and then looked at Elain. We did not speak because we did not know what to speak of. We walked over to the door connecting Elain's room with Nesta's and entered and closed the door behind us.

"Your room is ahead." Nesta pointed towards the door straight ahead.

"What do you feel about all of this?" I turned to the window. I knew that Nesta required space before she could answer difficult questions. Not looking at her meant that she would feel less pressurised and that she would have more clarity of thought.

Nesta looked outside the window. "We are in an unfamiliar world. I do not mind it much. I do not have a marriage waiting for me. But…"

"You worry for father?" I wanted to know what she felt for him. She did not despise him as much as she tried to pretend. And she would always leave the room whenever I tried to confront her about it, knowing my sick body couldn't follow her. But now I could. And it seemed like she was realising that bit too.

Nesta scoffed. "The man could barely pick himself up even when Feyre went out to hunt. You were sick. We needed the money for your medicines."

"What about you and Elain? What were the two of you doing?" This was it. This was everything. Our lives had revolved around this for so long. Feyre had continuously begged me not to confront Nesta or Elain about this and I truly found her foolish for that. Her kindness had been extended to undeserving people.

"We could never send Elain out. She…"

"Then what about you?" I asked softly. I did not have the patience to shout at her and she was no longer poised to strike. So would she answer me? "Feyre was just a child."

"I know you would've gone out." Nesta's voice was a mere whisper. "You would've done anything and everything for all of us. You're like Feyre in that aspect."

"I think I would have." I spoke. The salty scent of her tears spread around the room. "Do not try to deflect, Nesta."

I knew how much Nesta hated that cottage. That bed where mother had birthed us and died. Everything around us was a reminder of the weakness we carried within ourselves.

"And that trait of yours made you push me out of the Cauldron." Nesta looked at me, vision blurred by tears.

"What were you doing, Nesta?" I had to be more firm with her. I was rarely firm with any of them. That had costed us too much. And whenever I was, I snapped too badly.

"I was scared!" Nesta's voice rose.

"Scared of the world and in that house, only our father knew how to navigate through it." I added and hummed. "He disappointed you, didn't he? When he did not go out to find work and instead remained… hopelessly hopeful for a miracle." I moved towards the door Nesta had pointed at, the one that would lead to me bedroom and stood by the door. The door knob was a beautiful piece of wood, simple and shaped. "Our mother's lessons never included any survival skills but our father's travels did."

I remembered how Feyre had snuck into our father's office to see the maps and the trinkets he brought back from his travels. How father sat her on his lap and told her stories of the world outside. Nesta was staunchly against that. I simply smiled and encouraged Feyre to listen to father's stories. He would tell her about the different people, cultures, cuisines and adventures he had. And eventually those stories shaped Feyre into becoming the one to step outside their home to be the breadwinner.

"And even now, you love him."

"That's ridiculous." Nesta sneered.

"Why?"

"Because I am my mother's daughter."

"All of us are."

"I am more of her than any of you ever was."

"And what are we?"

"Not hers." Nesta did not say anything more but I understood that this was a partition that would remain in her mind. That Nesta would forever see herself as someone apart from her sisters.

"Is that why you never stepped out? Because our mother would've deemed it beneath her to toil for the family? And you're her daughter?" The words escaped me before I could filter them. I saw Nesta flinch. I knew I had struck well when she reacted and I did not like this. I did not like this conversation. Did not like that she was like this. Nesta would've done anything and everything for Elain and I but for Feyre, what was it?

I remembered all the times when we were young and Feyre used to look up to us. I spun my history lessons into stories and told my own version of it to put the younger ones to sleep while Nesta silently watched even though she pretended to be uninterested. Stories of kings and queens, princes and princesses and adventurers and treasure hoarders. Mythologies were the easiest to tell her.

Feyre learned words easily as she listened to my stories and Nesta's advanced speaking. Maybe that's why mother never realised she did not know how to write and read. And for a long time, I did not. Not until mother had passed. Feyre was friends with Elain in a way she never was with me. Friends who would run around the house together, paint together, garden together. To her I was an older sister, but Elain was a friend more than a sister. But Nesta?

For so long, I'd seen her hopefully look at Nesta for the love and companionship she received from us. She did pick up the fierceness from her but she never knew how to wield it. She learned it all on her own and while I was proud of her for being able to do everything on her own, why was she? Why was she the only one providing for us in a house with two more healthy women? Why was she the only one who could do anything and be useful in a house with two capable women?

I'd fed her false hopes during our childhood that Nesta would come around but I believed them to be true. I'd seen how Feyre, fascinated with the first set of paints, had created something and gift it to Nesta. The first of her creations was a gift to someone who simply took it, said her thanks and retired to her room impassively. Feyre did not know what it was called but she saw Nesta using something to mark the book from where she paused; a bookmark.

I saw Nesta keep that bookmark for years, not even allowing me to touch it. Elain did not know where that bookmark was from. The same went for her drawings. Every little scribble, Nesta kept them guarded in her drawers and never told Feyre. She never scolded Feyre for continuing to draw even when we had limited paper after losing our riches. She simply kept them when Feyre thought they were being burned to feed the fire in the cottage. Nesta was a woman of actions and words so why did she not act?

"We are our own person before we were her daughters." I twisted the doorknob to open the door to my room. The luxurious space greeted me with nothing but unfamiliarity. This was not home. "And you are no longer hers. No longer her daughter. I hope you come to accept it someday." I took a step but my other leg remained where it was. "You must apologise to Feyre for not stepping up. The both of you need to move past that."

I let the door slam behind me and began pacing the room. The fact remained that Nesta and Elain did nothing while father and I were physically incapable of going out. Feyre was the only one who did it. And I did not know why I kept defending both of them in my head. I removed the hair tie and enjoyed the feeling of my hair being free.

What did it mean to be an elder sibling? To step in for the younger ones? If that was the case, Nesta and I had done that many times before mother died. Things changed after that. Even then, I'd seen Nesta actively step in for Elain and in my sickness, for me but Feyre was someone she left behind.

I opened the closet wondering whether I needed to dress for the dinner or whether this gown would be appropriate enough. A silk gown of midnight blue grabbed my attention. I took it from where it hung and admired how it was more soft than the one I currently wore. I closed the door of the wardrobe and took the dress with me to the bathing chamber.

The bathtub sat there like the king in his kingdom. I looked away from it and stared at the mirror in front of me. A woman with incomparable beauty stared back but she was so confused. What good was flawless hair and skin and body when I could no longer identify myself? The woman in the mirror was an unfamiliar face. I was never this beautiful, never this healthy. This was definitely someone else.

This is not home. I wanted to cry at that.

The Cauldron had demanded far too much from me. It had exhausted me before I could leave its clutches. I felt it all over my body and I knew I was close to hyperventilating. I'll never return home. And all that pain. I would have died and yet, here I was.

What was the point of snapping at Nesta? We were here, no longer human. We could never return. And what was there for us in the land of the fae? There is nothing. This is not home. My home with my sisters and father. And when I inadvertently looked in the direction of the bathtub, I saw the Cauldron—black and cruel. I screamed in my head at myself to run away. But my legs, why weren't they moving? The Cauldron seemed to nearing me and I wanted to vanish into the shadows.

And as if my prayers were answered, the shadows emerged from behind like the waves of an ocean. I saw their reflection in the mirror and I crumbled as they embraced me and took me away. It was cold and calm. Only the wind remained for me to hear. I could not process anything but my own cries and tears. Where's my home? I screamed into the shadows and wailed. Tears had blurred my vision but I could see enough to identify that I was someplace dark. I sat down on the cold floor with my knees to my chest.

Home was Nesta's stubbornness, my father's hopes for tomorrow, Elain's smiles and Feyre's wildness. But I was somewhere where I could recognise none of my sisters. My stubborn sister had left everything to the youngest, who in turn lost a part of herself. My happy sister no longer smiled. And what was I?

I don’t know how long I was crying but a hand grabbed my shoulder. It was the only source of warmth. It was a large hand and I looked back. There was no one. I could not see the hand on my shoulder but I could definitely feel it. It was still there. And the shadows retreated and I was on the bathroom floor with a worried Nesta in front of me. She saw me and was saying something. She hugged me and rocked me and I closed my eyes. It was when I could hear my surroundings that I dared to open my eyes. Nesta was crying as she held me.

I moved my hand, took her elbow and tried to remove it away from me. It was a heavy arm and my movement made her release me from my embrace to look at me. Her tears were flowing and she looked so worried. “Are you alright?” She grabbed my cheeks and inspected me. “Did something happen? Talk to me, dear.”

Nesta was never affectionate unless she was worried. And that she definitely was at the moment. “I’m fine.” I whispered.

I escaped her embrace and stood up. I had yet to wash my face and I did just that. I kept on gathering cold water in my hands and splashing it on my face until I felt content. I looked up at the mirror and saw someone who I was starting to recognise. Me. The broken me. I took the towel hanging nearby and dabbed my face with it. I had to change clothes. As I was removing my clothes, I heard her call my name.

"Come to me after you've spoken to Feyre." Nesta knew what I was talking about. I wore the midnight blue gown which exposed my neckline and clung loosely to my figure. My hair was in a bun but with a few stray curls escaping here and there. We stared at each other until I made the move to leave for dinner even though I did not know where it was going to.

I walked ahead. I could hear Nesta behind me but I descended the stairs and heard the noise coming from one of the floors. I followed the voices and halted. I was suddenly reminded of the fact that I will be dining with strangers. Even though I'd met a few of them and dined with the brothers before, that was back in my own home. I saw Feyre and her family and I felt like something was attacking me. Meeting her in-laws was not how I ever expected it to be but when I saw Feyre walking towards me, I realised that I did not recognise her at all. Where the hell was my sister and who was this woman?

****

TAGLIST:

@waytoomanyteenagefeels@impossibelle@esposadomd@starswholistenanddreamsanswered@judig92@bunnyredgirl@sh4nn@a-frog-with-a-laptop@kattzillaa@ronnieglennn@wallacewillow0773638@forgiveliv@justdreamstars@donttellthecats@cat-or-kitten@jojodojo02@wandas-dream@evylynny@weasleyreidstyles@stqrgirlies-blog@why4anne@acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe@macimads@footyandformula @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @eatsleepreadance1 @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @maddybraps @mrstepes @violet-potter

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel x oc #azriel x original character #a court of silver flames #acofas #azriel shadowsinger #acosf #acomaf #acowar #azriel spymaster #azriel #rhysand #feyre archeron #feysand #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #elain archeron #lucien #lucien vanserra #night court #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel x reader

[simmanin]

you wouldnt last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

(happy wednesday!)

#pro elucien #pro elain archeron #pro lucien vanserra #acotar #acowar #elucien #the half step heard across the world #pro gwynriel #pro gwyneth berdara #pro azriel acotar #whos afraid of little old me #sjm #sarah j maas #acosf #acotar mates

[arinbelle]

Moments V

A/N: I’ve been working on this fic for over a year and I’m so happy it’s done. I really wanted this conversation to happen right after the Blood Rite or even after Nyx’s birth but alas. So anyways, here we are.

@nestaarcheronweek

Moments Masterlist

~*~

Part V: Shackled

Nesta surveyed the cerulean gown, fingers gliding over the satin before turning away. It was a silent rejection, one of many, and he moved out of the way as the tailor pursed her lips but replaced it with a red one. 

Cassian had come with her to help her pick out a dress for her sisters and Emerie to wear at their mating ceremony, but after the tenth one he was beginning to feel antsy. It wasn’t that he minded the small boutique, hidden amongst stores selling sweet caramels and cakes, or fresh bread and spiced meats. He’d been here before, rather, he’d been wrangled over with Mor and Amren, even with Azriel to find gifts for the females he never brought to meet them. 

It was Nesta’s neither here nor there look on her face that had him apprehensive. She’d been deemed fully healed and back at her full strength three days after the Blood Rite and so preparations for their Mating Ceremony had taken over immediately. She’d doled out the responsibilities the night before; Mor on decorations from whatever colors and schemes Nesta already had in mind, Elain and Feyre on the guest list, Azriel to set up security parameters, and Amren to confirm with all the vendors they bought from. Rhys was of course the master fund for all expenses, to which Nesta had agreed to with a sly smirk.

Yet today, their first day out together since everything had been settled, to find dresses and taste cakes, was proving to be difficult. If it had been a case of true dislike, or perhaps indecision, Cassian wouldn’t have minded. But Nesta had never been an indecisive person- she knew what she preferred and it never took her long to get what she had in mind. So he knew something was wrong when she’d given her silent or quiet rejections to the various cakes and dresses and flower assortments. 

“That’s alright,” he finally decided to cut in, before the boutique owner began laying out another collection of dresses. “We’ll come back another day. Thank you for your time today.”

The boutique owner didn’t seem to mind, likely happy to be rid of them, and he bade her another farewell while ushering Nesta out.

“We weren’t done,” Nesta said when they were finally a few paces away from the shop. “I need to get things done today if the ceremony is in a few days.” A risky timeline for a wedding ceremony, let alone a mating one that was as extravagant as they’d planned it to be. But he ignored that.

She had pulled herself out of his grip, crossing her arms in the middle of the cobblestone street, staring him down with that familiar fire. He’d missed it these past few days but had attributed it to exhaustion from the Rite or nerves from what she’d endured. And he’d stayed silent about it too. Perhaps stupidly, perhaps warily, but he’d kept quiet, even when the dejected look on her face seemed to be worsening with each passing day. 

“We’re not getting anywhere right now. How about we take a break and come back another day, Nes?” 

She didn’t move so he reached out his hand, waiting. Always waiting. Something was wrong but she’d speak when it was time. Until then, he was fine to walk with her in silence for however long she needed.

A few breaths passed but she finally loosened her stance, moving closer before grabbing his hand. He pulled her in tight, wrapping an arm around her waist before moving them down the street. She allowed it and he pressed a kiss to her crown before ushering them towards a juice stall with a long line.

She looked up at him, a small smile gracing her beautiful face. He traced the curve of her lips, the slope of her nose with his eyes, taking in the beauty. He might have been staring too long as a lovely blush colored Nesta’s cheeks and she shoved his face away.

“Stop that,” she snapped, but there was no bite to it.

“Never,” he promised, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheeks before changing to another line that was selling something that smelled tempting each time the wind blew past it.

”If you were hungry you could have just said that,” she huffed, but it was all amusement now.

He thought about it, taking a few steps forward as another order completed ahead of them. 

“Fine, yes, I did want to eat,” he admitted, ignoring the smirk she sent his way. “But I had us leave because it wasn't getting anywhere. You didn’t want to be there so why suffer through it.”

She stiffened in his hold and he knew he’d probably struck a chord. That hadn’t been his intention, but he cursed himself silently. Sometimes his honesty got him into more trouble than he asked for. 

They were silent for the rest of the line with Nesta only speaking to the vendor and ordering fried potatoes with cheese and a mint lemonade. 

”No, I don’t want fish, thank you,” she spoke quickly, cutting her eyes at him as he made to speak. She rolled her eyes at him as he paid, thanking the stall owner before grabbing their food.

”You could use the protein. We’re going back to regular training in a few weeks,” he called behind himself, knowing she’d have something cutting to add. He delighted in it, teasing her incessantly about her huffy dislike of all the things he tried to get her to eat. 

“And you could stand to skip it,” she said sweetly, with nothing kind in her smile. She reached for her plate and popped a wedge into her mouth before continuing. “I mean truly, I don’t know what they’re feeding you, Cassian. You don’t need any more muscles to ogle at.”

He chuckled at that. “Don’t you mean more muscles for you to ogle at.”

Her eyes narrowed but she shook her head emphatically, finally giving into the banter he’d so desperately been trying to distract her somber mood with. 

“It’s embarrassing honestly, all the staring I get when I walk around with you and your wings hulking behind me. The size of you is scaring the poor citizens of Velaris.”

“You don’t seem to mind the size of me most days. And nights. Especially nights,” he added with a wicked grin. 

She blushed, breaking her gaze from his own, snickering quietly even as she stared out at the harbor.

“You’re an idiot,” she finally settled on, mouth twisted in a wry half-smile.

”You still laughed,” he pointed out, poking her cheek as she swatted him away.

They ate in peaceful silence, until a restless urge overcame him and he couldn't keep it in any longer.

“You're not happy.” It was an observation from the past few days. Her face, her mannerisms, her behavior all had him more worried with each day. 

“What?,” she asked, startled at his words.

He tried again, grabbing aimlessly for better words to get through to her.

“Doing all this I mean. I don't have much experience as a bride of course, but I think you're supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” she protested quickly. Too quickly. 

“I am,” she tried again, but it was quiet and a far more obvious lie this time than he was used to seeing from her. 

“I just mean, your heart doesn't seem to be into it. Do you not want this ceremony?” 

There he had said it. It had been a concern he'd toyed with for the past few days but he's convinced himself there was nothing to it. That he was imagining it. But he'd said the words and Nesta hadn't jumped to deny it. In fact she'd gone silent, looking everywhere but at him.

“We should go,” she finally said, her food half uneaten, lemonade completely untouched. “It's getting dark.”

And that was that. 

She seemed to be waiting for him to finish his food but he found his appetite wholly gone then. It was a quiet, painful walk back to the House of Wind and an even worse flight up. Nesta did not look at him, did not dare to meet his eyes, and he found himself secretly relieved. He didn't want to know what he'd find should she look up at him. Disappointment or anger or perhaps both.

Nesta broke away from his hold too quickly for him to not notice it and grimace. But something held her back, one foot in the terrace they’d arrived on and one foot inside the House, and Cassian watched expectantly.

”Can we talk?,” she asked softly, looking back towards him. Something was stirring in her blue-gray eyes and it gave him pause and a moment to reconsider. But something within him told him to agree, and go forward.

He took the few steps to reach her and placed a kiss at the back of her head. “Always,” he promised.

She led him to the smaller alcove they sometimes used to have lunch in between trainings. It was a cozy room, with a fireplace they no longer needed in the blooming heat of summer, and two plush armchairs facing each other.

Cassian sat, stiff and uncertain, but he did it. She settled in across from him and to an unpracticed eye they’d see her move as elegantly as ever. But he saw the faint tremor in her hands, her gaze, the nervousness in all of it. And it set him on edge.

”I didn’t want an audience,” she started. “Out there I mean,” she nodded to the terrace and the world that lay below them. “We’ve done that before and I don’t want to get into another screaming match over the Sidra while all of Velaris watches.”

So it would be that sort of talk. He had to agree though. It wasn’t his finest moment and considering they were extensions of the royal family, it didn’t represent them all very well by public opinion. 

Nesta played with an errant string on her shirt, fidgeting with it until he cleared his throat. She met his eyes then and he was terrified of what he saw. Before he could brace himself for whatever blow she was about to land, whatever hit-

“I think we should cancel the mating ceremony.”

The room was suddenly suffocating him. Hot and wretched air seemed to be all he could breathe in and the walls were definitely closing in around them. There was no way he’d heard her correctly.

“What?,” he blurted out. 

Nesta’s stricken face told him he hadn’t heard anything wrong and his worst nightmare was in fact turning true. Silence laid waste in the space between them, and the longer it went on the worse he felt. Nauseous and overheated and jumping out of his skin. 

“It was your idea,” he managed to bite out.

“I know…,” she sighed. “I know and I’m sorry-”

”Sorry…,” he chuckled, but it was cold. Flat.  

He shut his eyes, trying to reign in his temper. It had no place here, he knew that, not when she was trying her best to talk to him as calmly as possible. He knew she was going through something, had known for the past few days. Angry as he could feel himself getting he knew it would undo any progress they had made in the past year. Maybe all of it.

“Okay,” he started again, opening his eyes and taking in her guarded pose. “Can you…tell me why?”

“I don’t want to fight,” she whispered pleadingly. He heard it, the tremble in her voice, and it broke his heart that she was this upset.

”We aren’t fighting sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Nesta curled up on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her satin dress, and her arms seemed to be holding her together.

”I don’t think it’s a good idea. To have the ceremony.”

”You don’t want to be mated,” he summarized, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of his voice. Or perhaps it was desperation. 

”No. It’s not that. I mean,” she met his eyes, some of the tension gone, to his relief. “We are mated. Technically. I just thought about it and the ceremony is official. I mean, we’re having the priestesses come in to bless it. I know all about that Cassian. It’s serious. It’s ordained by Prythian’s magic, the land’s magic. It is binding.”

Cassian scoffed. “And you don’t want that.”

”No,” she snapped. “I think you don’t.”

Before he could protest the shocking assumption she moved on, a hand shot up to halt him and whatever he had to say.

”My parents were a love match. Did you know? It was so rare where they’re from, so everyone in their families was against it. But they loved each other.” Her eyes narrowed in contempt. “It was supposed to solve everything. Should have. But when I was growing up, I know what I saw. Resentment and anger and frustration. They were stuck together and they hated what they’d become. My father loved my mother, and I think she loved him in her own way, but they weren’t good for each other, in the end.” She shook her head at the thought. “ And I see that now, far more clearly than I did when I was a child. I know how it happens and it never starts off obvious or grim. It starts off like this.” She motioned a hand between them.

“We are not your parents,” he pleaded, not even sure where this was coming from.

”We don’t know that,” she stated flatly. “And I don’t want you to wake up one day, ten, fifteen, two hundred years from now and realize that we want two very different things.”

”Nesta-“

She spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear it. So soft yet laced with heartbreak. “I don’t want you to resent me. And I never want to hold you back.”

He shook his head emphatically, hoping she understood. “Never. You could never do that. That is not us. Wherever this is coming from, whatever you’re scared of, that isn’t us.” 

“It may be. It could be. It’s different for you,” she explained, shifting in her seat, hands wringing nervously in her lap. He wanted her to just look at him, hold his gaze in that fierce strong way he was so used to from her. But she was so on edge he didn’t know if she even could.

”Explain it to me” he said simply.

”You grew up here,” she tried, hands gesticulating around them. “This world, your world, it tells you these things about the mating bond that I have never heard of. That I can never understand. But I can tell from what little I’ve learned, it is sacred to all of you. It is…” she struggled to find the words. 

Nesta stood up then, and he was taken aback by the sudden movement. But he remained seated, focusing his attention wholly on her.

”I loved you,” she breathed out, holding his gaze in a tearful snare. “I loved you from the moment I met you. I knew it was only ever going to be you for me. And that was enough for me. If husband and wife was all I ever got, it was enough for me.”

He opened his mouth to tell her he loved her too. That he’d been so enamored by her from that first moment they’d met, that he’d-

“I have only ever wanted you Cassian. But you, you wanted a mate.”

”No!” He shot up to his feet then too. He had to, to defend himself, to defend them.

Nesta ignored it, lifting her chin in defiance. “I don’t think I can ever live up to the myths and legends your people tell of such a union and the bond. Mates are equals in every sense of the word. We are matched somewhat in power but what else? I am not like you, nor your family. I am not good or kind or honorable.”

“You’re wrong,” he breathed out shallowly, moving towards her. She stepped back and it took everything in him to not howl at the motion. To gather her up in his arms and force her to listen, to see how wrong she was about him, about them, about it all. 

“You said it yourself, so many times Cassian. I just never wanted to see it. And your family…,” she scoffed. “They’ll likely never let me forget it.”

”They aren’t a part of this,” he growled. “Fuck them. Fuck them all. All I want is you. Do you not feel the same? Is that what it is?”

”I already told-,”

”Do you love me?,” he demanded. “You told me you wanted a mating ceremony and now you don’t. You also told me you loved me. Or was that a lie as well?”

She lifted her chin in defiance, hackles already rising at the bite in his tone. And just as suddenly as he’d seen her temper spike to match his, it seemed to completely disappear. Nesta seemed to turn inwards, eyes downcast. “You said you’d be shackled to me.” 

Cassian’s breath came out of him in a whoosh, and understanding had finally hit him. 

“I didn’t mean it.”

”Then you wouldn’t have said it,” she stated coldly. “But you did, and, I can’t even blame you. I would not be my own first choice for a mate, so why would you? Given everything you have heard of this bond, in what reality would you ever want to be with someone like me. I fall flat of all the expectations and I see it and I accept it and that is why I’m canceling our ceremony. You want a mate but you would not have it be me if you had a choice. And I won’t force you into it.”

”Nesta,” he pleaded, hating the crack in his voice. Hating all that he’d done to get them to this point. He’d take it all back, all of it, if only to reverse this moment right here. 

Nesta did not wait to hear more, see more, skirts bustling as she hurried out of the room, Cassian reaching his hand out far too late to catch her.

~*~

He would wait it out. That was what he’d promised himself when she’d locked herself away from him. He's convinced himself that he should take a step back, give her some space, and they’d try again the next day. Perhaps they just needed to cool off and Nesta more so than him, needed time to re-evaluate. But that plan had quickly disappeared when he remembered the broken look on her face as she’d reminded him of his cruel words.

Shackled.

It took him back to that night on the bridge. He’d thought to wait out then too, opting to see her the following day when they’d both had time apart. And what had it gotten him? A mate who’d been stolen from her bed in the middle of the night, likely convinced he hated her. And he’d never made it right had he? In all these days together, planning and teasing, joking and smiling, he’d never corrected himself. Never apologized the way he’d rehearsed and planned to as he’d made the flight to Emerie’s house the day of the Blood Rite. 

No, waiting wouldn’t be an option today. He’d given her an hour and then made his way upstairs. 

He knocked at the door forcing his heart to ignore the soft, muted cries he heard beyond it. If he let himself feel it all as he often did, he may tear down the door itself to get to her. Every instinct in him was roaring to the surface and he barely subdued them.

“Go away Cassian.”

“Please.” It was all he said, all he could say, but something in it seemed to have gotten through to her because he heard a murmur and then the telltale click of the lock. A phantom wind opened the door and blew him in, and he murmured a silent thank you up to the House. 

The bed dipped as Cassian seated himself beside her, and Nesta burrowed her head further under the covers.

A tense silence filled the room and he heard Nesta grit her teeth. Cassian shifted closer.

“I didn’t mean what I said-”

“But you-”

“I know,” Cassian cut her off. “I know I did anyways. I shouldn’t have said it at all. It was spoken in anger and, Nes, it was a mistake.”

Nesta didn’t speak but she did remove the covers from over her and sit upright. Cassian controlled the urge to reach out and smooth her hair, the lines on her face and her tearstained lashes. 

“I didn’t mean it,” Cassian insisted again, extending his hand towards her splayed out on the bed. She withdrew it sharply before he could react and he swore he felt something shear against his heart. Cut and slice and dice him up inside at the small motion.

“You did.” She may have tried to keep the accusation out of her tone but there was only so much that she could do. And only so much he could ignore. “I saw it in your face. You meant it, Cassian. Don’t make yourself a liar just to make me wrong.”

“I…” Words died on Cassian’s lips and he looked away. “I didn’t mean it in that way though,” he whispered hoarsely.

“What other way is there to mean what you said?,” she snapped.

Cassian got off the bed and turned his back to her. His wings twitched with irritation and he tamped down the urge to spread them to ease this edginess in his bones. 

“You’re young,” Cassian’s voice shook when he finally spoke. His hands shook and he interlaced them to calm himself down. “You’re powerful, you’re…so strong, Nesta. So strong. And you could have so much more.”

He turned slightly, dragging a hand over his face, suddenly feeling so tired. Nesta did not speak but her eyes were wide, glistening with something he couldn’t place. 

“You could have had a kingdom. Could have been a queen with the power you had.” He shifted on his feet. “Still have,” he added on. “You could have had a prince who would have become a High Lord one day.” 

He spat out the words High Lord, not caring if Nesta realized that the ire he felt towards Eris was still strong and present.  

“You’re settling with a bastard.” He felt her flinch at the word, but Cassian went on as if he hadn’t seen it. “I have no name to give you and no title to share. You’re shackled to me, and you could do so much better. And I hate that,” he admitted with a bitter laugh, “But it’s the truth. And it’s why I was so angry that night. Because I know all that but still I was hoping I could have you. That I could ever endeavor to be worthy of you.” 

“You are,” she insisted, breaking the silence that had built up between them. Her lip wobbled but she didn’t cry. Instead she reached out a hand to him, and he took it on instinct. But he did not join her on the bed, instead falling to his knees before her. Nesta tightened her hold on his hand and he reveled in it. Delighted in that reassurance that no matter what, she was still here, still willing to hear him out.

“From the moment I met you, I was falling for you.” A whispered confession but he’d kept it from her for too long. She was doubting him. Them. And he couldn’t allow it. 

“I knew, and my brothers knew, and the wiser option would have been to stay away. You were human and fragile and mortal, and it was never going to end well. And I promised myself I would stay away, but I couldn’t. You were so…,” he struggled with his words. There was a band around his neck and it was hard to speak. But he did it anyways, nearly choking. “You were beautiful, and you were fierce, and loyal and brave. Everything you wanted to keep hidden from the world, I saw it. Nesta, I saw you.”

Nesta blinked back tears, holding her composure far more than he thought he was going to. 

“I know,” she whispered, more to herself than him.

”I kept finding stupid excuses to come see you,” he chuckled dryly. “A letter to the queens, a message from Feyre, all bullshit. I just needed to see you because I wanted to know you, all of you. Then you fought with those queens and you defended the humans in your land. And I saw you plead with them for mercy, to help your people, and they mocked you for it- I nearly killed them right then and there. Rhys had to go into my mind and tamp down on me.”

He stopped before he made this new confession. Because it would either fall short on expectations or it would heal them.

”It was then that I knew I was in love with you. You are good and kind and honorable, and I am sorry you don’t see it. You were standing up for those who had no voice. You were courageous, loyal, and fighting for justice and righteousness and innocent lives. It was everything I had spent my entire life fighting for on killing fields and strategy rooms. I remembered how many times my pleas fell on deaf ears. And I knew then, that you were it for me, that I was in love with you, and that we were probably going to die in that war anyways, but it didn’t matter to me because I had found the woman I wanted to spend whatever time was left of my life with. The mating bond hadn’t even registered to me yet, Nesta.”

Nesta was crying now, silent tears streaming down her lovely face and it was all he could do to not reach over and wipe them away. All of his instincts roaring to the surface to cut and kill and hurt whoever had hurt her. Except it was him. He had hurt her, so who was punished then?

”And I will never forgive myself for what happened with Hybern. I promised to protect you and I did everything but. When Hybern threw you into the Cauldron, right before you went in, you looked for me. In a full room of your sisters you were looking for me, just as I have always been looking for you.”

Nesta nodded, confirming what he’d always suspected. It was the bond he’d felt between them when she’d been thrown into the Cauldron. She had sought him out in those moments of desperation before she’d drowned in that black water, and he had died a thousand deaths watching her go in, helpless and useless as she fought alone.  

“The mating bond snapped, and you went under the surface. I felt you drown, I felt you die, I felt you beg for someone to help you and then I felt your anger when you decided to save yourself and take something back. And it meant nothing to me. The mating bond. I was grateful to it, but all that moment caused you was pain and fear that will likely follow you for your entire life. And I would do anything to take that away from you if I could.”

He lifted her hand, clenched and bone-white in his own, to his lips, and he kissed it savoring the blood and life and warmth he felt under his lips. That she was here with him. Through it all, here she was, this female, borne of darkness and anger and fear and strength and calamity. Still she was here, still she was his, and still she stood tall and proud beside him. He’d never stop marveling at her, at all she was, and all she had survived and fought for to get here. 

With him.

Cassian pressed another kiss to her wrist. “I am in love with you. I love you. I will always love you. I don't need a bond to tell me that. Even if we didn't have it I’d tell you the same. I want to spend the rest of our lives together, no matter what.  I never want to be apart. I want whatever you want. If you don’t want a mating ceremony, damn it to hell, we don’t do it. If you want to take some time and think, that’s fine too.”

Nesta stroked his cheek and he burrowed into it. That warmth and life she held for him. 

“But know that I love you Nesta and I will never resent you for being you. I will never not want to be with you. Ten years from now, two hundred years from now, you are all I will ever want by my side. Know that if nothing else.”

He had never been one for poetry, for flowery words and beautiful language. It wasn’t in him but something in him knew this much had to be said. They’d had a whirlwind relationship these past few months and he knew so much had been left unsaid. Some of it was fine, but some of it he knew had led to distress. To him. To her. He’d had so much more to say the night she’d all but banished him and gone to Emerie’s. So much planned and he’d never done it, never thought to in the aftermath of the Blood Rite and Nyx’s birth.

But Cassian had been consumed by her from the moment they’d met. And every moment after. If she doubted him, them, he had to do something about it. 

He waited apprehensively for an answer, a sign, something, anything from Nesta to know what their next move would be. 

Nesta didn’t break his hold on her, nor did her gaze lower from his own. 

Nesta’s voice broke when she finally spoke.

“I love you too. I always will. I…I don’t know what the future is going to bring and I’m scared,” she whispered before leaning down and touching her forehead to his own.

He breathed her in, sighing with relief as some of the tension in both of them loosened.

“We’ll deal with it, all of it, as it comes. I’m here with you. Always. I’m not going anywhere.”

Nesta seemed to be holding in a sob. “Do you promise?”

He ran a hand down her face, her back, soothingly. She was all but shaking. 

“I promise,” he said before kissing her. She kissed him back fervently and they were both out of breath when she finally broke apart. 

Cassian opened his eyes and watched her. He vowed, “I promise, on breath and blood, I will be with you for as long as you’ll have me. I will love you for the rest of our entire lives and I will cherish every moment we are given together. And when this world ends I will search for you in the next. And through it all, I will never stop loving you.”

Nesta smiled softly at that, before reaching for him again for another kiss. The kiss could have ended worlds. It could have stopped time. It was just them in that moment, bound by the very fabric of their souls, with the melody of their bond soaring high before tightening stronger within each other. 

He’d meant every word. 

So long as he breathed, he would be by her side, unyielding, loving her with every moment of their lives. 

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#Nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #acotar #Nesta #pro nesta #pro nesta archeron

[pastelpinkkadan]

Anti-El*cien and kinda Anti-Lucien so I would really not read if you’re triggered by that.

I cannot reiterate enough how Lucien has done the BARE minimum for Elain as her “mate”.

Lucien is not “being a gentleman and giving her space/comfort” by living with the band of exiles. He’s AVOIDING her. It’s not polite, he’s literally just dipping out. Because it’s so painfully obvious that ELAIN DOES NOT WANT HIM. And honestly, there’s nothing in his actions to suggest he actually wants her either.

He’s not being a “good male” and thinking of Elain’s feelings. He wants out.

Him gifting her gardening gloves is NOT a good gift, If he actually cared, he’d know that Elain likes to garden with her bare hands. And in the Feysand BC it even says Elain has not used these gloves once. Also, the pearls he gave her? I literally cannot think of a worse or ill fitting jewel to give Elain. Like, he could have chosen anything and he went with pearls?? The jewel you’d give some stuffy old court lady. That’s a “safe” jewel you give to someone you DO NOT KNOW.

I’m just sick of these wild interpretations that Lucien is such a gentleman and a good mate, when he’s done nothing to deserve the title. Or the theory that Elain avoids him because she likes him sooooo much.

SJM has shown us time and again that Elain and him DO NOT FIT.

If Elain was not his mate, Lucien would not give her the time of day. Which he barely does already.

This is why I truly believe their bond is wrong/false in some way. If they were REALLY mates, Lucien wouldn’t be able to stay away like he is. And to an extent, neither would Elain. But they can separate for months without so much as batting an eye. It goes against EVERYTHING we know about mates.

Note- I’ve also been seeing from some El*ciens that “Azriel is like Graysen and that’s why Elain wants him”, and I cannot BELIEVE the reach. 1. We’ve gotten like one scene of Graysen and he was NOTHING like Azriel so where is this comparison even coming from? 2. It’s super disrespectful to Elain and her growth/healing to imply that she would do that. She’s into Az because of how kindly he’s treated her, how they’ve spent time together, and the romantic/connecting moments with her rescue and TruthTeller come ON.

#acotar #acosf #elriel #elain archeron #pro elain #pro elriel #azriel #elain x azriel #anti gw*nriel #anti el*cien

[pit-and-the-pen]

Eris- Panic Attack

Eris x mate reader

Pre-established relationship, I’m going to say for the context of his, Eris has panic attacks from time to time.

Summary: Beron has recently died and Eris insisted on cleaning out the throne room himself. He didn’t think the memories of his father would still haunt the room.

Warnings: Panic attack explained pretty in-depth, mentions of cannon typical parental abuse, Beron mention

WC: ~1.5k

————————————————————————

The heavy mahogany doors swung open as Eris pushed on them. He stepped into the familiar space and steadied his breathing. Beron had been dead for a little over a month now. Eris fully stepping into the role of High Lord. Eventually, he would have to start holding court, but not before he wiped any trace of his father from the room. Not that there was much of him in this room. Despite being high lord of Autumn for centuries, the room held a certain degree of emptiness that had nothing to do with his father’s passing. It was as devoid of emotion as his own father.

After looking around Eris found something that made even his hot blood run cold.

He could feel the whip as it bit into his back. Scorching angry red lines into his back. He couldn’t even place the action that had angered his father this time. But one thing led to another and Beron had said something about disloyalty and disappointment. Eris wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying out. So he bit his tongue so hard it bled, repressing the screams he desperately needed to release.

Lucien was kneeling in front of the throne, white shirt torn open. Bright red blood seeped into the fabric. Clinging to his brother's skin and staining the stark fabric, a gut turning maron. Eris couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. Couldn’t form the pleas for his father to stop. He was just a boy, barley 16 years old. Even his other brothers had the decency to look horrified by their fathers actions. Lucien did cry out. The action had earned him more lashings that the servants had to hold him down for. He was going to pass out. His head slumping slightly as his father landed another blow. Just as Eris thought he found the right words, his father paused. He surveyed Lucien like he was nothing more than a piece of meat. A callous tone as he simply said “take him to his room” was all the acknowledgment Lucien was granted by the High Lord. The rest of the siblings stood in a line, silence filling the crowded room. Beron ran his hand along the whip, shaking Lucien’s blood off of his hand. He had the nerve to act disgusted by it. As if the blood would taint his hands simply by touching it. Eris had never felt fury like this before. At Beron. At himself. At his complaint mother who just stood by Berons side and didn’t so much as try to convince him to stop his cruel punishment. Eris declared right then and there that when the time came, he would make sure that Berons death would be at his hands.

Eris willed his eyes to pull into focus. He blinked against the dark that bit at the edge of his vision. His hands would not stop shaking as he held the whip. He couldn't let go of it for some reason, like the leather hilt had burned his flesh to it.

He had regretted his decision to enter the room at that very moment but some prideful part of him demanded he should be the one to do it. What he hadn’t considered was the memories this room held. Memories that couldn’t go away at just the mere passing of his father. One small object in the room and that’s all it took to reduce the recently crowned high lord to nothing more than a scared babe.

His breathing. He needed to control his breathing but it felt like sandpaper as he clutched for some semblance of rationality. He couldn’t suck in air fast enough and he knew that he was hyperventilating but couldn’t stop it. He felt his knees starting to buckle under him. A firm hand slamming against the nearest wall was all he could do to stop from falling to his knees right there. The whip finally falling from his hands as he felt a cold sweat break over his entire body.

The blood roaring in his ears drowned out the sound of the door swinging open again. He all but jumped out of his skin at the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. You rubbed gentle circles into the back of his neck and that was all it took for Eris to fall to his knees. Your soft touch was such a stark contrast to the phantom pain he felt rip across his body only moments before.

When he finally had the strength to open his eyes, he found you sitting on your knees in front of him. Your own eyes filled with sympathy and it was enough to break him. Years ago that look would have him storming off, terrified of how that one look seemed to stare into his very soul and rip him apart. But now, he used your eyes to ground him in the present. The fact that you were here in this room was enough to send his mind into overdrive the need to protect you from some long gone force took over his mind.

He must have sent that feeling down the body because he felt a calming wave of love in response. You didn’t move for a second, seeming to fully take in the situation that was unfolding in front of you.

As you had done so many times before, you slowly lifted Eris’ hands and gently put it on your own chest. You took deep breaths and Eris found himself struggling to time his with yours. It took a few tries but he felt his lungs open up. The scratch still there but manageable as he all but panted in time with your steady breathing.

Once he got his breathing to a more steady rhythm, you went to remove his hand from your chest and Eris simply laid his free hand on top of yous. Unwilling to let the comfort of your heartbeat disappear. You didn’t shake him off, instead you shuffled closer to him until your knees were pressed against his own. He watched you move in slow motion as you tenderly placed your forehead against his. He closed his eyes as he gulped down breaths of your smell. Caramel and cinnamon. His lips ghosted over yours, not truly kissing but enough that your breathing finally in sync and he could taste your sweet smell as you exhaled

The two of you sat like this until the trembling in his body stopped. The tension still clung into his shoulders and was already starting to give him a headache. You could pick up on that too. You were always so attentive and aware of his moods. It used to terrify him but the longer the bond held , the more he let you see his part of him. The part that wasn’t a high lord who killed his own father for a role he had been training his whole life for.

Pulling his hands free from your chest, Eris fumbled frantically to wrap his arms around you. His head going to the crook of your neck at the same time you carded your fingers into his precious red hair. He all but purred when you used your nails to scratch his scalp.

You didn’t ask what was wrong. It wasn’t necessary. All it took was that pure fear that traveled down the bond and you were sprinting through the large estate, one you were still unfamiliar with due to spending all of your time at the forest house. So all you did was offer him a small “I love you”. It didn't matter that his throat was too raw to say it back. None of that mattered. You would spend the rest of your life telling you t to him without a response if it meant he would believe those three words.

Much to your surprise, you felt the words mumble into your neck and you just held him tighter. You held him until he gave you three tight squeezes, the signal he gave you when he was back down to earth. You held his face in your hands and gave him a chaste kiss. Pulling him up to his feet, I led him out of the throne room. Letting him know that this wasn’t something he had to do today, at all or alone.

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris fluff #eris angst #acosf #acomaf #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acowar #eris x you #did I write this because I had a panic attack #yes. the answer is yes #Erie needs a hug #i love this man

[podemechamardek]

@nestaarcheronweek | Day Three: Self-Care

For today I wanted an illustration that shows Nesta doing something that makes her feel like herself and at the same time sharing that part of herself with those she loves and who love her in return.

Jessica is really sweet and was able to do this soft illustration of Nesta dancing with Nyx and I’m so grateful for that. I hope we get to see more moments of Nyx with his favorite aunt (Nesta, obviously) in the next books.

Art by: Jéssica Brasil (jessi.brasilart)

Commissioned by: @podemechamardek

🚫 Please do not repost.

#nestaweek2024 #nesta archeron #nyx archeron #nestha archeron #nesta #nessian #a court of silver flames #acosf #acourtofthornsandroses #acotar #art #art commission: acotar

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Sometimes, when Nesta stays out too late at Rita's with the Valkyries, when she stays up too late reading in the library, Cassian carries her back to their bed all soft and sweet 😌

A very happy Day Four of @nestaarcheronweek! And a very very big thanks to @maybemacdc for working with me on this absolutely beautiful and tender commission 🥺 Please do not repost without credit and don't feed into AI programs.

#nestaweek2024 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nesta x cassian