#I’m behind on my tbr because of getting back into a childhood comfort show

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {8}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Short & Sweet. As far as feel good chapters go, this one nears the top of the list.

Also, I’m fully aware I’ve used this gif in everything i have ever written, and i do not regret it, whatsoever.

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“Your hand,” he repeats. “Give it to me.” I extend my shaking right hand. And – in a moment that is a hundred dreams come true – Joshua Wasserstein laces his fingers through mine. A staggering shock of energy shoots straight into my veins. Straight into my heart. “There,” he says. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” ― Stephanie Perkins, Isla and the Happily Ever After 

The past week had been blissful.

Since the day Rhysand got drunk off his ass, all had been well between him and Feyre - amazing, actually. 

It was all so easy, so natural, so normal.

And the sex was incredible.

When Feyre got home from work on Friday afternoon, nothing sounded better to her than soaking in a nice, hot bubble bath, but it seemed her plans would have to wait, because the moment she walked through the door, Rhysand was standing in the middle of the room with a bouquet of roses, looking handsome in his jeans and button down shirt.

He smiled.

Feyre eyed him, suspiciously, as she shut the door behind her. “Well, hi.”

“Hi,” he said, chuckling. “Go put on something nice.”

Feyre lifted her brow and gestured to her scrubs, covered in weenie dogs. “This isn’t nice?”

Rhysand laughed. “Feel free to keep that on, but you may get some strange stares.” 

Feyre slipped off her shoes and set down her bag before walking toward Rhysand and taking the flowers from his hand.

“These are pretty,” she said, quietly, cheeks heated. “Thank you.”

“Mhmm,” Rhysand said, biting his lower lip. “I realized this morning that I have yet to take you on a proper date.”

“Is that so?” Feyre asked, kissing him on the cheek before bringing the flowers into the kitchen. She found a tall glass and filled it with water.

Rhysand came up behind her as she put the flowers inside. His arms wrapped around her waist, his teeth nipped at her neck. “Yes, so go get dressed.” 

Feyre turned around and placed her palms against his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his gray flannel. “Is this a new shirt?”

“It is,” he agreed. “See, I went shopping for this. It’s a pretty big deal.”

Feyre laughed. “Alright, fine. I’m going.”

“Good,” he said, eyes narrowed, as she tauntingly walked away, down the hall. 

She closed herself inside of her bedroom and stripped off her scrubs. She should hurry, no telling what he had planned. 

At last, she chose a black slip dress that reached just past her knees. A long slit went up the side, stopping mid-thigh. She paired it with some simple, black strappy heels before brushing her hair out and putting it all into a messy bun at the top of her head. 

Thanks to dry shampoo.

After a quick make-up touch-up, and drowning herself in perfume, she was walking back out into the living room. Rhysand was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone when he looked up, and smiled. 

Phone long forgotten. 

“Do you approve?” Feyre crooned. 

“To put it lightly,” he said, and stood, and held out his hand.

Feyre intertwined her fingers with his, grabbed her purse, and they were gone. She thought they were going to go to the car, but Rhysand just led her down the sidewalk. 

“If I knew we were walking everywhere, I would’ve worn more comfortable shoes.”

Rhysand grinned. “We won’t walk far, I promise.” 

“Hopefully toward food,” Feyre grumbled. “I’m starving.”

Rhysand said nothing. He kept his lips shut, his smile broad. 

True to his word, not far after, they walked up to a bistro and sat on the patio, below a series of string lights. 

“Does Velaris really need string lights?” Feyre asked, sipping on her wine. “Takes away from the starlight.”

Rhysand huffed a laugh. “I suppose that’s true.” All he had done since the moment they sat down was stare at her. Even when he was ordering, he never took his eyes off Feyre. 

“You’re making me nervous,” she murmured. 

“Can’t I look at you?” he asked, brow lifted. 

“No,” she laughed. “You may not.” 

“And just like that, you’ve defeated my purpose for the night,” he said, shaking his head. “Cruel woman.” 

“I thought the purpose of tonight was to spoil me,” she said, with a wink. 

“That too,” he laughed, just as the waitress brought their food. “But that’s the purpose of every night.” 

They ate their meals, and laughed, and joked, just as they always had. Conversation swept between them easily, naturally, as it always had. Nothing had changed - everything had just been made stronger.

After they ate, they walked along the Sidra, through the Rainbow, all around town, her hand in his. 

It was simple.

But it was perfect. 

Feyre Archeron was falling in love with her best friend.

~~~~~

Elain was nervous.

It had been a long time since she’d been out on a first date, and only a few months since Graysen. She wasn’t ready.

But she couldn’t tell Azriel no.

She liked him.

She was drawn to him.

And, according to Mila, they should be married. 

A statement that did not, at all, help Elain’s nerves. 

She slipped on a skirt and a tank top, paired with a necklace and some flats, deciding that was appropriate for most places they could go to dinner in the city. 

Elain was ready before he arrived, and she spent the remaining minutes pacing in the living room. 

Then the doorbell rang.

Followed by a soft knock on the door.

After a deep breath, Elain opened the door and smiled. “Hi.”

Azriel stood there, a head taller than she, wearing jeans and a black Henley shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hey. Ready?”

She nodded, stepped out, and shut the door behind her. 

He was the perfect gentleman, opening the passenger side door and helping her up inside of his truck before he got himself inside. 

He turned on the engine, and soft rock n’ roll came out of the speakers. 

“Hungry?”

No. “A little bit.”

Azriel smiled. “Good.”

“Where’s Mila tonight?” Elain asked, hands in her lap, over her purse. 

“With my friend Mor,” Azriel explained. “She’s here from school for the summer.”

Elain nodded, and smiled.

And an uncomfortable silence ensued. 

She knew Azriel was feeling it too because he was lightly tapping the steering wheel, his lips sucked in. 

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Thankfully, the restaurant he was taking her to was only ten minutes away.

When he pulled into a parking space, he cleared his throat, and turned off the engine. “Look,” he began, just as Elain said, “So-”

They looked at each other and laughed.

“You first,” Elain urged.

Azriel scratched the back of his neck. “I just...I’m not very good at this.”

Elain nodded, smiling faintly. “Neither am I. It’s been five years since I’ve been on a first date.”

If Azriel was surprised, he didn’t show it. “Well, then I guess we’ll both embarrass ourselves together, yeah?” 

Elain smiled. “Yeah.”

He got out of the truck and went to her door. Once he opened it, he held out his hand. She took it, his fingers warm and calloused.

Once they were seated, after they ordered their food, Azriel asked, “So, what do you do? I mean, you know what I do.”

Elain laughed. “I work at a boutique downtown. As of yesterday.”

“Nice,” Azriel said, nodding. “And for fun?”

Elain had to stop and think about it. She hadn’t done anything for fun in a long time. “I like to garden. And I like to write.” Although I haven’t in a while. “What about you?” 

“I do a lot of woodworking stuff,” Azriel said, then shrugged. “Not that I have a lot of time for it. Especially now, with Mila.”

“What happened with her mom?” Elain asked, before she could think about it. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

But Azriel just smiled. “It’s okay. Mila’s mom is my sister. To make the story short, she is now in prison, and will be there for a long time.”

“That’s horrible,” Elain whispered, “for Mila.”

Azriel agreed. “It’s hard to explain it to a four-year-old.”  

“But you’re so great with her,” Elain said, gently. “She really loves you.” 

“She’s pretty great,” Azriel chuckled.

After that, the conversation began to flow a little easier. There were no more awkward pauses, just curious questions. Elain didn’t mind the “meeting new people” questions. She welcomed the innocent small talk. She asked about his childhood, about his parents. He told her that his mom died when he was young, and then he was adopted, along with his older sister, Amarantha. 

He asked her the same question, and she told him about her mother. He listened as she listed off her favorite memories.

Elain asked how he knew Feyre so well, and he explained that he had been good friends with Rhysand since high school, even though he graduated two years after they did. Rhysand was family, he said.

They finished their dinner, but stayed and talked a while longer, until they felt they overstayed their welcome. Then, she climbed back up into Azriel’s truck and they drove down to the river and parked. 

Elain started to feel uncomfortable, but then Azriel hopped out, and opened her door. Once again, he held out his hand, and once again, Elain happily took it. 

The stars were out in full force. There were very few things that were as beautiful as the Velaris night sky.

Azriel unhitched his truck bed before asking Elain if it was okay for him to help her up. Once she said yes, his hands found her hips, and he lifted her up before joining her there. They looked out over the Sidra. 

After a minute of silence, Elain began, quietly, “You know, don’t you.”

Azriel tensed up. “Sorry?”

She fiddled with her thumbs. “Feyre told you about my engagement.”

Azriel stayed silent, and to Elain’s surprise, she laughed, softly. “It’s okay. Really, I just...it’s the one thing you didn’t ask about tonight. I mean, you didn’t ask why I’m home with my dad, or why I just got a job, or why I haven’t been on a date in so long, or any of that. I thought you would have. So, I assume you already know.”

She looked at Azriel through the side of her eye, and he nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said. 

“No, it’s not,” Azriel said, looking down at her. “He didn’t treat you right. It wasn’t okay.”

Elain’s heart felt a little bit lighter as she said, “Thank you.”

Azriel cleared his throat. “I understand if you’re not ready for...dating, but I’m glad you said yes tonight.”

“Me too,” Elain said, and she meant it.

Azriel was not like she thought he would be. He was kind and gentle. His smile was rare, but stunning. He was quiet, reserved, but truthful and passionate. 

“Maybe we can do it again sometime,” Elain added. “Sometime soon.” 

Azriel’s eyes softened as he said, “I’d like that.” 

~~~~~

“Come on, Ax.”

Bryaxis came running to Cassian after doing his business in the field beyond their apartment building. Like the good boy he was, he followed Cassian up to his apartment without having to be told, again. They’d gone on a night run for a few miles, and Cassian was exhausted.

Just as he was about to walk inside, he turned around and knocked on Nesta’s door.

No answer.

With a sigh, he opened his own front door and slipped off his flip flops.

And froze.

Sitting on his couch was Amren, a glass of red wine in her hand, and sitting next to her was Nesta, a glass to her lips. 

“You didn’t tell me you had such a charming neighbor,” Amren sang as he walked inside. 

Silently, Cassian let Bryaxis in before shutting the door behind him. Then, he asked, “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

The two women on the couch grinned. 

“I have asked you over for a drink at least fifty times since I moved here, and she asks you, what, once?” Cassian asked, exasperated. “And you fucking came?”

Nesta shrugged. “I like her better than you.”

Cassian snorted, padding to the kitchen. “Apparently.”

As he poured himself a glass of whiskey, Amren said, “Don’t worry, you may join us.” 

“I’m not sure that I want to,” he mumbled, joining them, anyway. He sat on the floor, his back against the coffee table, facing them. “Alright. What are we talking about?”

“You,” Amren said, obviously.

Cassian sipped from his glass. “Liar.” 

“She’s not, actually,” Nesta said, and when he looked her way, she grinned. 

He didn’t like that grin.

It reminded him too much of Amren’s man-eater grin. 

“Okay, I’m going to bed,” he said, standing up. “Come on, Bryaxis.”

“Here, Ax,” Amren followed.

Bryaxis jumped up on the couch next to Amren and laid his head on her lap.

Cassian’s lips tightened. “Traitor.” 

“Stay, Cass,” Amren called after him.

“No, you two are drunk and gossipy, and I don’t trust either of you,” he called back, already halfway down the hall. He dipped into the bathroom and shut the door. 

After downing the rest of his glass, he turned on the shower and let it warm up. He pulled his shirt over his head before slipping off his sweatpants and stepping into the steaming water. 

A long, slow breath left him as he closed his eyes, letting the water soak his hair. He washed his body with the soap Amren brought along - lemon something or another. 

His muscles relaxed, the sweat rinsed off of him.

All the while, all he could think about was that Amren, of all people, got Nesta to come over. Then again, he supposed the two weren’t all that different.

The biggest difference between them was that Amren actually enjoyed Cassian’s presence. 

By the time he turned the shower off and stepped out, drying his skin and wrapping a towel around his waist, the apartment was quiet.

In the living room, Amren was out on the couch, her head resting comfortably on Bryaxis’ back. Cassian grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over her before turning to the kitchen and jumping backwards with a curse. “What the hell? You can’t just sit in dark rooms, silently, in other people’s houses!”

His voice came out as a harsh whisper, careful not to wake Amren, or Bryaxis, but he nearly pissed himself. 

Nesta chuckled as she sat at the kitchen table, fingers fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “Sorry. I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Yeah, well,” Cassian said, sighing, “great job.” 

Nesta looked at his body, to his towel, and shook her head. 

“Checking me out?” Cassian asked, walking into the kitchen. “Don’t make it so obvious.”

“No,” Nesta said, as Cassian poured another glass of whiskey. “But, I was going to make a sarcastic comment about how your towel has little pink hearts on it.” 

Cassian looked down at his towel as he meandered to the kitchen table and sat opposite of Nesta. “This towel is adorable, don’t deny it.” 

Nesta snorted. “Right. Well, I’ll get going.”

She didn’t move. So, Cassian said, “At least stay until your glass is empty.”

Nesta nodded, slowly. “Okay.” 

“Get along with Amren, then?” Cassian asked, sipping from his own. 

“Yeah,” Nesta said, quietly. “She’s nice.”

Cassian arched a brow. “I have a lot of words to describe that woman, nice is not one of them.” 

“I disagree,” Nesta said, but she was smiling. 

The kitchen light was off, but Cassian could pick out her distinct, shadowy features in the dim light coming from the lamp in the living room. 

He could see her lips, plump, curved upward on one side. Her gray-blue eyes, full of sadness and destruction, like a late-Summer storm. 

“What’s on your mind?” Cassian asked, watching her intently.

She met his stare, chin held high. “That we should fuck.”

Cassian laughed, but her expression didn’t change.

She was serious. 

Cassian shook his head. “No.”

He expected her to get pissed, but she didn’t. Her head tilted. “Why?”

“I’m a lot of things,” Cassian said, bringing his glass to his mouth. “But you’re drunk, and I don’t take advantage of intoxicated women.” 

Nesta nodded, slowly. “That’s what separates you from every other man in this fucked up city.” 

“Maybe you’ve just been hanging out in the wrong places,” Cassian followed. 

“I hang out in the places that accept me,” she whispered, looking down at her wine glass, half full, before downing the rest of its contents.  

She set the glass on the table and stood. The moment her feet hit the ground, she nearly fell over.

Cassian chuckled. “Go home. Sleep it off.”

She nodded, eyelids drooping. Cassian followed her to the door, a step behind, and made sure she made it across the hallway safely.

She turned around in her doorway. “Next time, put on pants.”

With that, she shut the door, leaving Cassian and his towel with the little pink hearts staring after her.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #nessian #feysand #elriel #modern au #tacmc aita