#and cass to Rhys before nesta but not loyal to azriel

[theladyofbloodshed]

Part One ¦ Part Two ¦ Part Three ¦ Part Four ¦ Part Five ¦ Part Six ¦ Part Seven ¦ Part Eight ¦ Part Nine ¦ Part Ten ¦ Part Eleven ¦ Part Twelve ¦ Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen - Long final chapter but you will get a smutty epilogue soon!

They scoured the Spring Court as well as they could while the darkness still veiled them, but there were no signs of Nesta or the Vanserra prick. They had edged as close as they could to Tamlin’s manor, scoping the forests for any traces of either of them to no avail. If Lucien was like his slimy brothers, he could winnow – then he could have taken Nesta anywhere in the world. They knew little of him, only that his father had him exiled and mauled his face in one of his rages. They’d never deemed the youngest Vanserra worthy of spying on. Cassian prayed to the Mother that they wouldn’t regret that decision. If Lucien was anything like his brothers, then they had precious time to get to Nesta before she was seriously hurt. If he decided to return to his father, risk his exile, to present Cassian’s mate to the high lord of the Autumn Court then Nesta was as good as dead. There was only a sliver of a chance she wouldn’t be hurt in the Spring Court either.

‘We can’t just go barging into Tamlin’s manor demanding if she’s there.’

‘I know,’ Rhys snapped, eyes not wavering from Cassian’s tense body. Both of them were simmering away with only Azriel’s cool head holding them steady. Likely he was weighing up their options, wondering whether Nesta’s head was about to be presented to Beron Vanserra on a platter.

Cassian was half tempted to hammer on the doors of the Spring Court and demand Lucien be brought forwards. They were wise to be hesitant though. Tamlin was a force to be reckoned with. Beyond his raw strength, the male had legions of loyal soldiers at his command – ones who he’d bled beside in the war, that he’d grown up with in war bands. They would die for him without hesitation. It wouldn’t be easy to make it to the front doors. There was bad blood between them all and Rhys would love nothing better than to settle the score – or to ease his guilt over not coming for Nesta sooner. They didn’t need a war with Spring, even Cassian could agree to that.

‘We return to Velaris,’ Rhys said, voice nowhere near as calm as he tried to make it. ‘Check on the sisters and reconvene.’

‘I’m not leaving without Nesta.’

Azriel sighed with impatience. ‘The sun is almost up. There’s no sign of her. We can’t scent her. I can send my shadows in, but in all likelihood, she isn’t here, Cass.’

It was Rhys’ turn to block Cassian’s path before he parted Azriel’s head from his body. His chest heaved with every breath aching in his lungs. He couldn’t bear to think of Nesta coming to any harm due to their mistakes.  

Azriel went on, ‘We’ve dumped her two sisters with Mor and they need support too. I’m happy to keep searching with you, brother, but Nesta is not here.’

‘Send your spies into Spring. We’ll go to Velaris. Then return.’

What choice did Cassian have? His body was on fire, a rash had erupted all up his arms and he’d scratched the skin until it bled. He needed Nesta as much as she needed him. The bond was demanding their reunion. It burned fiery hot, angry that they had come so close to her then not met.   

‘Fine.’

Without a warning, he was free falling above the House of Wind. The cold wind rippled against his leathers. His wings splayed out on instinct, slowing the fall, but his knees still popped from the impact. Dawn was bleeding into the skies of Velaris; he’d have liked Nesta to have seen the night sky as her first impression of his home. But now he’d take her safety over anything. She could see Velaris pouring with rain for all he cared – he just wanted her in his arms.

Mor strode onto the roof, eyes wide. Her red dress billowed out behind her. ‘We have a big fucking problem.’

‘Don’t tell me a mortal has escaped,’ Rhys groaned.

‘Much fucking worse.’ She pointed a finger at Cassian. ‘You are so lucky that Amren needed something from the vaults in the middle of the night for whatever it is she is up to. Your mortal mate is knocking on the doors of the Hewn City with a fucking Vanserra in tow.’

‘Peace,’ Azriel said, clutching his hands into prayer, ‘Just one week of peace is all I ask.’

***

This was a city unlike any Nesta could have ever imagined. Carved into the black rock mountain were avenues, separate buildings with twisting spires, illuminated homes and bridges criss-crossing the glowing, green streams that ran through it. It was a metropolis carved into the mountain itself. All of it was inlaid with artwork of great, ancient beasts, faeries fornicating, of mortals dancing while fae whipped their bare backs. The pillars were carved to look like curling vines of night-blooming flowers. Silvery light glowed and bobbed in the air.

‘What is this place?’ Nesta asked, keeping her hand in Lucien’s and squeezing his warm fingers tighter. ‘You’ve table-clothed me to the wrong place.’

He had winnowed them to a central path that led to the massive iron gates then promptly tugged them from it behind a boulder out of view from the armoured sentries.

‘This is your beloved’s home.’

‘I never said he was my beloved,’ she replied hotly.

Her cheeks burned at the insinuation – but it was not the only part of her body that did. She needed the snow again to cover her skin; her muscles ached. She could not stop thinking of Cassian – of his body, of seeing him in the bath of her home, the muscles glistening in the fire light, of him guiding her hand to bring him to climax, seeing the hard length of him laying flat against his body, of how she regretted not seizing that chance of lying with him then.

‘Can you not think of sex with your beloved right now?’ Lucien scolded.

‘I never said he was my beloved,’ Nesta repeated.

‘That might be the only thing that could save you in this place. The Night Court is not good. I did warn you.’

Nesta scrunched up her nose as she peered from around the boulder at the still sentries on duty. Their black armour made them look bulkier than they likely were, but they were far taller than her. Their swords crossed over their bodies ready for any assault.

‘This isn’t Velaris.’

There was no beautiful night sky or rows of boutiques and bakers or clothes shops that stocked her gorgeous, fur-lined clothes that Cassian had bought for her. The buildings were supposed to be grey stone with green, slate roofs and a long, winding river was meant to run through the middle of the city where restaurants lined it.

Lucien’s eyes twinkled in the silvery light – both of them – and he murmured, ‘It certainly isn’t.’

This place felt wrong. Nesta couldn’t explain the feeling in her gut that had her wishing she could return to her cabin. There was a darkness to the Hewn City that made her afraid. She nestled closer to Lucien even if he tried to push her away. There was a voice telling her that she should not be here, a hand on her shoulder trying to guide her in the other direction.

‘Go and knock on the gates.’

‘I certainly will not. You said Cassian owes you something. Go and collect it, witch.’

Nesta shivered. Now that she was her, she wanted to go home. ‘They have mortals being hunted for sport on those pillars.’

‘How fast can you run?’

She clutched his arm, terror stilling the blood in her veins. ‘Someone’s coming.’

‘They can probably smell you and want to eat you.’

A small woman strode past the guards and was heading their way. Black, silky hair was cut about her chin, bobbing as she walked. Her clothes matched her eyes; swirling smoke that never settled. Beside her, Lucien tensed. He even pulled Nesta further behind him. Whoever this woman was, she didn’t seem to be good news if she made Lucien nervous.

‘Not Eris,’ she said. ‘Not Beron either. From that ugly disfigurement, the youngest Vanserra.’

‘How dare you!’ Nesta couldn’t help it. Every part of her was crying out not to speak to this woman, to stay hiding behind Lucien, but she wouldn’t hear such awful words said about his scar. ‘What a horrid thing to say.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘A mortal mate for one of the most powerful Illyrians. Fate has a strange sense of humour.’

Lucien’s face leeched of colour. ‘The general is your mate?’

‘He’s a friend, I suppose.’

‘This is not the place for such conversations. Follow me and keep your hoods up. Especially you, girl, keep your hood up and face pointed at the ground.’

Nesta did not want to follow this strange woman into the city that made her skin prickle, but Lucien was already following with his hand reaching out behind him for Nesta to hold. He was afraid, she realised, by whoever this female was. She could not remember Cassian mentioning a high lady. And if she scared Lucien enough to comply then maybe Nesta had made a mistake coming here.

They were led to an obsidian stone room with a long table running through the middle. Some of the chairs, Nesta recognised as ones that could accommodate wings since Cassian had to spin hers around to sit comfortably. Did they all have wings, she wondered or was it only the men?

‘Remain here,’ the woman said before locking them into the room – as if they had any other choice.

‘Table-cloth us back to my cabin, Lucien.’

‘I cannot. There are wards on this city.’

‘I don’t know what that means,’ Nesta whispered.

‘Do you know who she is?’

‘The high lady?’

Lucien shook his head, his hand was still in her own, gripping it tightly. ‘Amren. Legend says she is a true immortal. A warrior serving a vengeful God. After millennia in the Prison, she yielded her perfect grace though her powers are no less bright.’

Nesta stared at Lucien. ‘I don’t know what any of that means.’

‘I am going to die with an ignorant mortal.’

They remained with their chairs huddled together. Nesta kept hold of Lucien’s hand in case he tried to table-cloth away without her despite his insistence that the wards – whatever they were – were impenetrable. His skin had not returned to its golden-brown and still his pulse was a racing song beside her.

‘Thank you for helping me,’ she whispered. ‘I won’t let anybody touch you.’

The corner of Lucien’s mouth tipped up. ‘Thank you, my lady, but I fear without your broom there’s little a witch in the woods can do.’

Maybe faeries were not so bad. Nesta had been a sacrifice, an exile, a witch, and now a friend of the fae.

As the key turned in the door, Lucien rose. ‘Stand with me,’ he murmured.

Nesta remained at his side, hand in his to weather the storm, but once the door opened, her heart shuddered. It felt like a piece was sliding into place, a piece that had always been missing. Cassian burst through, eyes wide with terror.

‘Nesta, has he hurt you?’

In one moment, Nesta was beside Lucien ready to break away from him to greet Cassian, and in the next, he’d hauled her in front of him like a shield, backed up to the wall, and pressed a knife to her throat.

‘Haven’t you ever been taught to never trust a Vanserra?’

‘Funnily enough, Lucien, your family isn’t thought of by mortals at all.’

Azriel had pinned Cassian to a wall over his yelling that he would rip Lucien into pieces and feed them to his father. They were a blur of magic and wings, both thrashing against each other. A blonde woman had entered, trying to instil calm too, then the small, silver eyed one who eyed the situation with disdain. Rhysand, the high lord, had black dust swirling around his hands when he finally entered the room.

‘Lets all take a moment to calm down.’

‘If you harm my mate, Vanserra, your mother will be sent your other eye amongst other organs.’

‘It’s nothing personal, Nesta. I had fun with you,’ Lucien replied smoothly, keeping the knife pressed to her neck. ‘I wanted to ensure Nesta made it here safely – but I want to ensure I can also leave this place in one piece.’

‘Then let her go and you can winnow back to Tamlin’s skirts.’

Lucien’s face was tight as he shook his head. ‘I can see the wards. I can only winnow past the gates and I know you will not let me walk freely. You’ll let me leave or else.’

The blonde one shook her head incredulously. ‘You aren’t in the position to make threats, snake.’

A long pause followed. Nesta tried not to move as Lucien kept his dagger against her skin. Oddly enough, fear didn’t greet her. It was more irritation with herself that she had been foolish enough to trust this annoyingly charming faerie. And, more unexpected, was how desperately she wanted to kiss Cassian. She was preparing herself to let the knife cut through her skin if it gave her the chance to touch him. Her body was alight with desire. There was nothing she wanted more than to get to him.

‘What is Velaris?’

***

‘You told your mortal mate too much – and yet not enough. Not enough for her to guard her words around me.’

Nesta’s face had gone white suddenly. The Vanserra had her chin tipped up to the air as he continued pressing the blade into the creamy skin. Each breath had her skin pushing closer to the blade’s edge. If Cassian saw a bead of blood, the last fraying instinct that he was clinging onto would snap entirely. And only the Mother knew what he would do then.

Rhys seemed to realise the same thing as Cassian struggled against Azriel and Mor’s hold on him. ‘Lucien,’ he said, voice low and urgent, ‘Nesta is Cassian’s mate. She has accepted the bond but they haven’t had the frenzy. You have a knife to the neck of the general of the Night Court’s mate. I have a male in this room who is about to go berserk and kill all of us except Nesta if you draw a single drop of her blood.’

Lucien’s hand tightened on the blade on instinct and Nesta screwed her eyes shut.

‘The other high lords will be interested to know exactly why you feel entitled to break a five-hundred-year-old treaty, Rhysand, and bring mortals to your court.’

‘I wish I hit you harder with my broom,’ Nesta hissed.

How many males had she hit with that thing? Oh, he already loved her.

Rhys’ grin was feline. He’d shared something with Amren, Cassian could tell by the smirk on her own face.

‘Alright, Little Lucien, you can see Velaris. And you have my word that you won’t ever be harmed be me or my council. I swear it on the Mother herself.’

‘I keep hold of Nesta until then,’ he said.

‘Not a problem. Mor and Cass first. Amren and Azriel. Then the three of us will go together.’ Rhys voice was placating like one a father might use to soothe a crying child.

He felt Rhys’ voice in his own head imploring him to trust his judgement in this.

Cassian wanted to fight against it. It was the same judgement that had left Nesta festering in a mortal cabin while he wasted away in Illyria without her. The judgement that had meant they went for Nesta last when she was the most important mortal in the world. But he had trusted Rhys for all of his life. He had to trust a little more.

Mor kept hold of him as they winnowed directly to the house. A sour-faced Feyre and a still-wailing Elain came scurrying out to the roof in their thin, scruffy gowns. Velaris would be a good home for both of them.

‘Did you find her?’

Cassian could not speak. It would not only be his heart breaking if Nesta was hurt.

‘She’ll be here soon,’ Mor replied. ‘Go back into the house.’

‘No.’ Feyre had planted her feet with the same stubbornness as her elder sister. Cassian wished the other one would stop her mourning cry or it would wake everybody in Velaris.

Azriel appeared above them, wings billowing out to land, with Amren in his arms. Neither of them looked particularly happy about the situation.

Finally, Rhys winnowed to the roof with his arms gripping both Lucien and Nesta.

‘Velaris,’ he said.

The sun was crawling ever higher into the sky, scattering light across the serpentine Sidra. It hit the frost lacing the roofs, making them shine. This city was beautiful. A city of starlight and wonder.

It was enough for Lucien’s grip to loosen on the knife.

Before any of them could react, Nesta had thrust her heel up to his groin.

‘That’s my mate!’

Nesta was in his arms in moments. That roaring voice in his head had grown louder. She was here. This was real. His mate.

‘I love you,’ he said in between kisses. ‘You stink of smoke and Day Court wine and Vanserras but I still love you.’

Nesta peeled her mouth from Cassian’s. ‘Did you see my cabin?’

‘You became the witch in the woods.’

Nesta’s smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, so full of pride and satisfaction. ‘I wanted to make you laugh.’

And she did. She had. She was brilliant and a little bit unhinged, but in the most perfect of ways.

For a while, he just held onto her. Because he could. Because she was here. Because she was safe. And she always would be; even if the Mother only granted them thirty or forty years, Cassian would savour every minute of them. Time would always be their enemy, but time was never promised.

‘Don’t hurt him,’ one of the sisters cried suddenly.

Nesta thrashed out of Cassian’s arms to land on the roof. ‘Elain, what are you doing?’

The crying had ceased. The middle sister, in her tired, lavender gown was shielding Lucien Vanserra’s body with her own, protecting him. He looked as if he was sizing up the sheer drop from the ledge, debating whether he’d survive it. ‘Please, don’t hurt him.’

‘Elain, he just had a knife to Nesta’s neck,’ Feyre said, face wracked with disgust.

‘He won’t be hurt,’ Rhys said calmly, spreading out his hands. ‘I made that vow. But you won’t ever leave Velaris, Lucien. You know its secret now. You will remain here until you wither and die. That is the price you pay for daring to touch a female who is part of my court.’

Elain wrapped her arms around the male, her tears had been exchanged for an unexpected, fierce streak.

‘I dream of you,’ she whispered. ‘So many times, I’ve dreamed of your face.’

‘They’re called nightmares,’ muttered Azriel.

Cassian knew if he did not claim his mate in the next few minutes, he was going to combust on the spot. His siphons were ready to erupt with power. But Nesta remained throwing her arms in the air at a loss for words, then she snapped, ‘Elain, do not be so silly. This man has bedded witches and dryads, you can do far better.’

‘That was told in confidence.’

Nesta rolled her eyes. ‘It was a brag, Lucien. And a poor one. I might have kept your secret if you didn’t try to kill me.’

‘It was nothing personal as I said.’

Had these two been locking horns like this since they’d met?

The middle sister, kept her arms firmly around Lucien as if he hadn’t just threatened her sister. Then again, Cassian supposed she had also seen her mortal fiancée as part of the hunt to kill the same sister, so maybe Elain wasn’t quite right. Certainly, she was staring at Lucien as if he was the most magnificent male in the world.

They’re not mates too, are they?

Rhys, I don’t know or care. The frenzy is about to become a public spectacle.

‘Put Lucien into the room at the farthest end. Amren will be your companion today, little fox. Elain, you may keep your arms around him like a limpet if you so wish. He won’t hurt you in Amren’s presence.’ Vanserra didn’t seem overly thrilled by the prospect of a mortal woman staring up at him with her moon-wide eyes, which was likely why Rhys allowed it. ‘Feyre darling, has my lovely cousin shown you to your room yet?’

‘We’re just supposed to go to our rooms and pretend everything is normal?’ Feyre had her hands on her hips. ‘We are in a faerie city. One of my sisters is staring at that thing like its love at first site… Nesta, you’ve singed off your eyebrows!’

‘Have I?’

‘Just a little,’ Cassian admitted. ‘You look even more beautiful for it.’

At the compliment, Nesta rolled her eyes. She stepped away from him, and Cassian fought the urge to tug her back. He’d struggle to let her go again, he knew, but her sister needed her more. He'd have to suppress his instincts, just a little longer.

Nesta reached out an arm for Feyre and pulled her into an embrace. The younger one burst into tears the moment they touched.

Rhys’ voice came into their heads again, asking them to give the sisters a moment together.

***

‘I thought they’d kill you and you didn’t want to go then he came and said he could take us and I didn’t know if they’d find you and the cabin was on fire and the men were coming and Graysen would have killed you.’

‘You’re safe,’ Nesta hushed, stroking Feyre’s hair as she cried. Her sister had never wanted to share her battles, just like Nesta. Elain never minded who she cried to, but her and Feyre were the same. Private. Content to be alone. But it wasn’t always good to lock yourself away – she’d learnt as much in the cabin, learnt as much when she decided it was better to die than to accept Cassian and Azriel’s help. Something had snapped in Nesta, a desire to damn the consequences and seek out the lumbering male who’d nearly made a hole in her roof. It was not shameful to accept help. It would not be offered if it was a burden.

Through her tears, Feyre explained how they came to be in Velaris – and Nesta felt a sick sense of satisfaction that their father was not extended the courtesy. Nesta did not tell her sister about the Hewn City. For now, Velaris was a safe place. They would deal with whatever came next together. Even if that involved prising Elain away from Lucien Vanserra.

‘You did all that to your cabin to make a faerie laugh? I thought you were going mad.’

‘It must have been madness from the start when I hid Cassian from the villagers.’

It had been a long, long time since they had embraced each other. Feyre had been tiny the last time it happened. Nesta had blinked and Feyre had become a woman; her reflection in appearance and spirit. They had battled enough. They could try to be sisters now. With no poverty pressing down on their mood, without a father who was useless, with hope for the future, they could be sisters again.

‘This is a beautiful city,’ Feyre said, sniffing back her tears.

‘It is, isn’t it? We could try to love it. But if you want to return to the village then that’s where we will go.’

Feyre nodded, eyes still rimmed with tears. ‘I can’t tell if it’s the tiredness or hunger making me so emotional.’

‘Rest, eat, bathe then we could explore the city.’

‘I’d like that.’

Nesta watched her littlest sister be escorted to her room by the blonde woman, Mor, who chirped away happily despite the lack of sleep they were all experiencing. Before she had a chance to check to see if Elain had forced her engagement ring on Lucien’s finger, Cassian was dragging her down the hall by the hand.

‘Amren will kill Lucien if he tries anything. We have unfinished business.’

‘Unfinished? I recall you finishing.’

‘But you did not hence why it is unfinished.’ Cassian pinned her to the wall of his room, so Nesta had mere seconds to take in the racks of weapons on the wall before his lips were on hers again. He was surprisingly tender for such a large man. His kisses came with a dizzying intensity where Nesta felt as if the current might sweep her away.

‘You need a bath,’ he said, kissing her brow. ‘You stink of smoke, faerie wine, and dead animals.’

‘You have blood on your clothes.’

‘Then we are evenly matched. And,’ he led her by the hand through his tidy room, ‘the baths here can fit a handsome winged faerie and his beautiful mortal mate in comfortably.’

The bath had already been drawn for them. It was frothy with mountains of bubbles and scents of citrus rose from the steam rising from it. Candles encompassed the room and the curtains had been drawn.

‘Slow,’ Nesta whispered as Cassian tore off her clothes like a man starved.

He screwed his eyes shut for a moment then took more care to unlace her boots then remove her stockings. Her heart thumped louder with every layer he discarded. Despite following him to Prythian, this was still new territory. Letting a man touch her. Kiss her. It was still new.

Yet her body thrummed with energy. Nesta fought against her own urges to wrap her legs around his hips and kiss him until she starved of air.

‘Slow,’ she repeated to both of them.

‘Slow,’ Cassian agreed. ‘We have time now.’

@mis-lil-red

#the exile and the injured

[amaranthas-whore]

Do yall prefer the three brothers being loyal to each other above all else or being loyal to their mates/lovers even if it puts their brotherhood at risk?

#yes this is about elriel #or I guess any az ship #but I feel like Rhys is loyal to feyre #and cass to Rhys before nesta but not loyal to azriel #leaving nobody loyal to az first :( #acotar #feyre #illyrians #nessian #feyre archeron #acomaf #acowar #sjmaas #rhysand #high lord rhysand #cassian #elain #azriel x elain #elain archeron

[wingsandembers]

“Won’t your friends tell you this is a mistake?” She gestured to the air between them. “My friends have nothing to do with this. With what I want from you.”

Az chuckled. “Don’t show your hand all at once, Cass.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Az nodded toward the doorway. “Save something for later.”

Rhys’s gaze slid between them, little warmth to be found in his eyes. But plenty of wariness. Little princeling didn’t like her with his friend. Nesta leaned into Cassian. Not much, but enough for a trained warrior like Rhysand to note.

You wear your heart for all to see, brother, Rhys said without turning Cassian’s way. Cassian only shrugged. He was past caring.

One of the things I hated about Cassian before ACOSF is how he acts different towards Nesta or his he hides how he feels about her in front of his friends.

Obviously Nesta noticed and was hurt by that, something I wished was explored more in acosf, but it was acknowledged by Nesta a couple of times when she asked Cassian what will his friends think about them? Implying that she knows his friends disapprove of her for him.

And one of my favorite things in acosf is Cassian becoming more open about how he feels about Nesta in front his friends and not really caring if they know or if they approve.

He is very loyal to his friends, to a fault even, but the limit to that loyalty is Nesta. Only time he defies Rhys is when defending Nesta. Only time he didn’t rush to save Azriel immediately is to make sure he get Nesta somewhere safe first.

When his friends admittedly say they are willing to manipulate Nesta to scry for the Dread Troves, or when they’re willing to expose Nesta to the darkness of the Troves but not Elain, he strongly advocated for her on her behalf.

Maybe the bar is so low, but for Nesta I think that means a lot if she knew how much Cassian came to her defense when they’re talking about her behind her back, though she’s hate they’re talking about her to begin with.

Not that Nesta didn’t have Cassian on a pedestal already, sometimes unearned IMO, but being someone’s first choice is important to her.

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #acosf spoilers #I just love these two idiots #and if anyone thinks Rhys can stop Azriel from going after elain #we’ll see how well that worked out with Cassian and Nesta

[courtofjurdan]

Hi! Could you do 97. “You’re so cute when you pout like that.” for Elriel please?

Thank you for requesting!! This is my first elriel fic so I hope you enjoy!

(Elriel is one of my favorite ship to write for. I just love elain and azriel so much.)

WC: 2260

Warning: mentions of blood

____________

Elain and Azriel got into an argument. The biggest argument they ever had. They’ve been together for three years now. They got into small arguments that usually only lasted a couple of minutes till one of them caved in. But today….. 

—————

*One week and 3 days before*

“Don’t leave.” Elain groaned. 

Elain has yourself wrapped around Azriel’s body. Not wanting to let go. Her and Azriel are laying in the bed. He has to leave this morning to go on a mission. 

This is what happens every time. Elain begs him not to go, pleading with him to just stay in bed with her.

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I have to go. Rhys needs me to check in on some things.” 

“What do you have to do? What do you have to check on?” 

He takes a deep breath, knowing what she will say to his answer.  “I have to check on some Illyrian rebellion groups that are getting closer to here.” 

Her head shot up, “No, no Azriel, you can get hurt.”

“I’ll have Cass with me. We’ll be good. I promise.” 

“Nooooo.” She groaned. 

Azriel rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. “I know. But I promise I’ll be back in a week.”

———————

It’s been a week and she has heard nothing from Azriel or Cass. He was supposed to come home today. He was supposed to stay true to his word. He was supposed to be right beside her. 

Her thoughts go to the worst. What if something bad happened? What if he got hurt? What if he got kidnapped? What if they tortured him? What if they tortured him to dea-. She shook her head. She can’t be thinking like that. He’s okay. He’s always okay. 

Another day passes by, nothing. Another day passes by, still nothing. Now she’s beginning to panic. He would have told her if he was having to stay longer. He would have written to her. She can’t sleep, eat, she can barely breathe correctly knowing there is something wrong. 

Thankfully, she begged Rhys to go looking for him and Cass. Just to make sure he’s okay. It didn’t take a lot of convincing. Rhys would do anything for them. He went to find his brothers with a little protesting from Feyre. She wanted to go help too, but Rhys told her to stay with Elain. He gave her a look that said “She needs you right now. Stay.” 

—————————

*present day* 

Rhys has been gone all day and all night. Elain nor Feyre could sleep knowing both of their loves were out there with Cauldron knows what. 

It was about ten o’clock in the morning when the doors to the House opened and there stood Cass, Azriel, and Rhys. 

Cass and Rhys were having to support Azriel. His wings were wounded, there was blood down his face, and a wound on the side of his abdomen that was gushing blood. He was pale, and groaning in pain. 

Elain didn’t know what to do. She stood there with a panic-stricken face and watched him. Tears flowed earnestly now. All she could think is that he said he would come back and be okay. And he lied. He’s not okay. He’s not okay. He’s not okay. 

She didn’t even realize that Feyre had left her side to, she assumed, go get Madja. The boys brought Azriel up the stairs and into his room. But Elain didn’t move. She continued to stare into oblivion. After a few minutes, Feyre carefully came up to her and said her name softly, “Elain.” 

Elain didn’t even deign a single look at her sister. Didn’t even acknowledge that she was there. Feyre grabbed her shoulders softly and said, “Elain, look at me.” 

All of a sudden, reality hit her. Azriel was hurt. She couldn't do anything about it. Her chest was heaving, her breaths becoming ragged, she started to get sweaty. Panic. Panic. Panic. 

Feyre grabbed her face. “Elain, stop. He’s going to be okay. Madja is a great healer. I need you to calm down. I need you to breathe. Elain, breathe slower.” 

One heartbeat Elain is standing up looking at Feyre in panic the next her world goes dark. Feyre calls for Mor who comes running to her. They put Elain on the couch and Mor goes and gets a cool rag to put on her forehead. 

“What happened?” Mor asked, genuinely concerned.

“She started to panic. She hyperventilated and then passed out. She’ll be okay. I just think she went into shock seeing Az the way he looked.” 

———————

Madja stitched and cleaned Azriel up. She had to sedate him a little because of his pain. Luckily with his Fae healing, he will be better in a couple of days. 

He did lose a lot of blood so he was weak and tired but his family is grateful that he is alive and the damage done is fixable. 

———————

Azriel started to wake up. When he opened his eyes he didn’t suspect to see Cassian and Rhys sitting in the room. He looked around for a light brown hair and doe-eyed female. He couldn’t see her anywhere.

Azriel asked groggily, “Where’s Elain?” 

Cass and Rhys look at each other and that only sparks panic in Azriel. 

“What happened?” 

Rhys goes over to him and sits on the edge of the bed, “She down stairs laying on the couch. Feyre told me she went into shock after seeing you and passed out.”

Azriel made a move to get up despite the obvious pain written on his face. But Rhys and Cass was holding him down quicker than he could blink. 

“She’s okay. I promise.” Rhys assured. 

Cassian clasped his back, “The moment she gets up, we'll have her come.” 

Cass and Az talked to Rhys about what they saw, heard and rumors that have been spread. 

———————

Elain started to move and when she opened her eyes the first thing she did was sit up and frantically said, “Azriel. Azriel. Where’s Azr-”

Feyre was at her side in a moment, she interrupted, “He’s okay, Elain. Just a little sore, but he’s okay.” 

Without another word, she gets up and starts to walk up the stairs. Feyre must have talked to Rhys through the bond because as Elain was going up, Cass and Rhys started to come down. 

Rhys gave her a wry smile and Cass said, “Glad to see you’re feeling better.” And nodded his head once. 

Elain opened the door to her and Azriel’s room to see him sitting up on the bed supported by pillows. He gave her a small, concerned smile as she made her way to the bed. 

“How are you feeling, sunshine?” 

She looked at him with a blank face. Looked at his bandaged wigs, bandaged torso. Tears started to well up and poor from her eyes. Azriel was quick to grab her hand and say, “I’m okay. I promised you I would be okay and I am.” 

She looked at him. Anger taking over her features. Angry at him. Angry that he let himself get hurt. Angry at the people who hurt him. Angry at the fact that he is selfless. 

“You call this ‘being okay’?” She has angry tears coming down now. 

“Well I didn’t die, Elain and I call that being okay.” He was getting flustered at the fact she was taking her anger out on him.

“How could you do this to me? You said you would be okay. Promised me. Then you come back looking like someone attempted murder on you.” Her voice got higher with frustration as she spoke. 

“I’m sorry, but just in case you forgot I don’t read minds. I didn’t know they were going to attack us. I would have never come to you like this on my own accord. I don’t want to fight, Elain. I know you're mad and aggravated. But this is my job. I’m a spymaster and sometimes I get hurt. It comes with the title.” 

Elain bared her teeth as she said, “Then get a new job or become a better spymaster.” She left the room with a slam of the door. 

Those words hurt more than the wounds on Azriel’s body. Those words cut deeper, sharper. He didn’t see her for the rest of the night. He sent a shadow to his brother asking if Elain was okay. Rhys’ response was “Yeah she just needs to calm down. Nesta and Feyre have been with her.” 

Azriel wishes she was with him. He wishes he was holding her, comforting her. But he ruined it. Because he ruins everything, right? 

———————

Elain felt awful. She didn’t believe he would forgive her. She couldn’t bring herself to see Az to see if he was doing better. Her guilt was too much. 

It’s been two days since their fight. An argument has never lasted this long. Never extended over days. She decided she misses her bed. And yeah, she may miss Azriel a little too. So she goes up the stairs to her- their- chamber and knocks. 

She hears his soft voice say, “Come in.” 

She touches the door knob. The images of his face when she told him to “be a better spymaster” flash through her memory. The hurt evident on his face. It brings up the guilt and shame even worse. And with guilt and shame, come tears. 

She walks in quietly and shuts the door. She finds Azriel sitting at his desk working on reports. He always has to be doing something productive. 

When she doesn’t say anything, he turns around in his chair and sees her. One word comes out of his mouth. 

“Elain.” 

Elain doesn’t give him any more time to say anything. She walks up to him, sits carefully on his lap, and puts her arms around his neck, all the while being very considerate of his wounds. She buries her head in the spot between his neck and shoulder and sobs. Sob after sob rack through her body. He wraps his arms around her, putting one hand up and down the length of her spine in an attempt to comfort. Seeing Elain in so much guilt, makes Azriel let a few tears of his own fall out. 

Through her sobs, she says, “I’m so sorry, Azriel. I’m so sorry.” 

“I know, sunshine. It’s okay.” 

Elain pulls back to see his face. “No Az, it’s not okay. I said stuff out of anger and it hurt you. I caused you pain when it wasn’t even needed. And it’s all because I got mad at you, at them for hurting you. I wanted you to hurt the way I hurt so my mouth opened and words came out, but I promise you I didn’t mean any of it. You’re the best spymaster. Never change that. Please.” 

Az wiped her tears away with his thumbs, “Why were you mad at me for?” 

“Because you’re so selfless, loyal, compassionate, reckless, and fearless. Because you would sacrifice yourself for your friends and family. But, Az that’s why I fell in love with you. Because you are all those things. I just didn’t like seeing you hurt like that. The worst thoughts ran through my mind and I can’t live without you. I can’t. You’re my whole world. The light in my shadows.” She put her arms around him again and buried her head. “I’m so sorry.” 

Az turned his head and kissed her. They sat in each other’s embrace for a couple of minutes, until Azriel spoke up. 

“Marry me.” 

Elain pulled back, “What?” She wasn’t sure she heard him right. 

“Elain, I love you more than the stars multiplied in Velaris. You are my light in my shadows. You are my comfort in time of need. You are loving, ambitious, bright, passionate and the list goes on and on. You are my salvation, and there isn’t anybody I would rather spend my eternity with than you. Will you marry me, Elain Archeron?” Azriel pulled out a small, black velvet box from his desk. He opened it up to show a ring with a sapphire blue jewel right in the middle with two small diamonds on each side of the sapphire. It reminded Elain of his siphons. She loved it. 

She covered her hands with her mouth and tears of happiness were now streaming. She looked at him with wide eyes and said, “Yes. Yes Azriel, there isn’t anything I rather do more.” 

He slid the ring onto her finger and kissed her as tears of joy ran down his own face, the biggest grin plastered there. It was a deep and passionate kiss. That kiss said more to them than the words they have just spoken. 

Elain pulled back and asked, “So I’m guessing you forgive me?” She gave him big puppy dog eyes and pouted her lip. 

Azriel chuckled. “You’re so cute when you pout like that. But of course I forgive you. I always will.” 

She gave him a peck on the lips. “I love you so much, Azriel. Words can’t even describe it.” 

“I love you so much too.” Az smirked his mischievous grin. “And you’re right, words can’t describe, so let me show you.” 

He picked her up and brought her to the bed. Elain was very gentle of his still healing but mostly healed wounds but Azriel showed her how much she truly means to him, how much he truly loves her for the rest of the day. 

_____________

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#azriel x elain #elain archeron #elain x azriel #elriel #elriel fanfiction #elriel fic #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #feyre archeron #morrigan #azriel #cassian #rhysand #abigail writes

[awitchylilbitch]

Elriel HC // Nose piercing a.k.a Az will do anything to have Elain near // pt 2 Elain’s pov

Just brushing off the rust and getting my keyboard clacking (also violently procrastinating an exam but the world is on fire and I need elriel fluff) I love double pov stuff so I figures it was only fair to see what Elain thought in my last HC.

(not as happppy with this as i was with Az but its 3 am and i h a d to get this outta me)

Part 1

azriel’s pov

Elain pierces Azriel’s nose, as per his request pt 2

·         The pot was heavier than she had realized.

·         Elain hoisted the large planter onto the wire stand, huffing as the leaves brushed her face.

·         They were growing nicely

·         She relished in the pang of relief that coursed through her.

·         Ever since the War, ever since she came back, she had been at odds.

·         Feyre had a life here, and she had been more than welcoming.

·         But Elain couldn’t shake the feeling that she was supposed to do more, be more. Help more by learning.

·         She had not indulged in her powers much. She didn’t want to. All she saw was horrible, dark twisted things.

·         Little bat babies being snatched away from Feyre, Nesta’s icy anger at everyone through the years, her sister’s crushing sobs at the war when Rhys stopped breathing-

·         She shook her head, realizing she was white knuckling the edges of her terra cotta pot, her fingers digging into the soil.

·         Feyre loved him. And he had loved her enough to come back

·         Elain hated to admit it but she wanted that too.

·         She didn’t want Rhys, Cauldron no-

·         And she wanted nothing to do with the man who was complacent in hurting her sister.

·         Lucien.

·         She felt that tug, settled deep into her and she shuddered.

·         Lucien was not hers. And she was okay with it.

·         But her heart tugged at her again. Not towards the horizon to wherever Lucien had settled.

·         But back to the Manor.

·         To him.

·         His impossible kindness, his deep, unyielding strength. Elain had never seen anything like it.

·         She could feel the power rolling off those broad shoulders, could feel the sheer force of him and-

·         Home. Azriel.

·         The word crashed through her

·         She shook it off, picking up the watering can with a little too much zeal. When it flew up, unexpectedly light in her hands, she instinctively blocked her face with her hand.

·         Dammit Elain.

·         She took a deep breath, angling the can over the edge, forcing her mind to focus on the water.

·         Not too much, not too far.

·         She wondered if she was still thinking about the plants.

·         Once she was done, she sighed.

·         There was no dodging it. She had to go back inside.

·         She knew he was there. Knew that as soon as her feet crossed the threshold, she would drift to him, just like her traitorous mind was doing right now. Towards that smile, that soft rumbling voice-

·         She immediately set foot into the garden. She was going for a walk. It was a few feet but she would do it, because the wandering would keep her outside the house longer.

·         Away from him, from his pining glances towards Mor.

·         Elain saw them. She would be an idiot not to.

·         Her fingers brushed against the flowers gently, the pollen rubbing onto them.

·         And she felt pathetic. Not being loyal to the man she had been betrothed to, rejecting her mate and pining after someone who was pining after an endlessly beautiful fae female.

·         She hated that it bothered her. Hated that all she wanted to do was bury her face in his chest and hug him. Hug him hard enough that all the broken pieces of her would fuse together again.

·         When something poked her finger, she looked down. And realized that in her wanderings, her fingers had stopped caressing the flower and had picked it right off.

·         Oh no.

·         Elain sighed. She was supposed to be good at this.

·         After a beat, she raised her hand and tucked the flower behind her ear. And sighed again. She had to go back inside now. rinsing her hands off at the small sink, she dried them with the towelthat had appeared there one day. She hoped it had been him.

·         When she crossed the threshold, she heard the gentle murmur of voices. The Males, Mor and her sister.

·         He was there, she was sure of it.

·         And just like she had predicted her feet floated towards the door of the sitting room.

·         She paused outside the doorway.

·         She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t do this.

·         If she stepped inside, it would be rude and unlike her to leave suddenly, she knew she’d make herself stay.

·         And spend the night like she always did. Catching glimpses of him out of the corner of his eye, watching that rare smile flit across his, face, seeing his deft hands move as he spoke, that voice like cedar scented velvet-

·         “I said I’d like to get my nose pierced. Change up the look a little.”

·         Elain stepped out of her haze, to realize she had stepped into the door.

·         Cauldron damn her.

·         She heard his friend reply, the one who reminded her of fire and flame.

·         She could still leave, no one had noticed, she could turn around and walk right out-

·         He spoke again and she was instantly liquid where she stood.

·         “I just think a nose piercing would look good. Too many tattoos. I’m almost bored of them.”

·         Elain loved nose piercings on men. It was such a simple little accessory that many of them would not dream of because it was too much of a hit to their manliness but here he was, talking about getting his nose pierced. And Elain loved it. She hated herself for the fact that the thought of it made her smile. Her cheeks flooded with heat.

·         This was bad, this was bad-

·         Right on cue, the male turned to look at her.

·         His eyes were fixed on her, that tender, soft look that he always had, the one that reduced her to shambles-

·         Only then did she realized she had spoken.

·         Mother above, what did she say? She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t think when he was looking at her, his torso fully turned towards her. There was a drumming in her ears. Was she smiling, why was she smiling at him like that, oh Mother above-

·         She spoke again, before she could reign it in.

·         “If you really want to, I can help.”

·         There was silence. She could have heard the petals drop outside. Her heart stuttered.

·         She looked like an idiot. His eyes are wide, Mother above, he thinks you’re insane Elain.

·         “You can?”

·         She dragged her eyes away from him.

·         A near impossible feat.

·         And met Mor’s.

·         There was no resentment there, no jealousy. Just a question.

·         Why did Elain feel exposed?

·         “I used to help the girls in our village get piercings. And I used to scrounge up some herbs to help with the healing and aftercare.”

·         Be quiet Elain, please for the love of-

·         “How about right now?”

·         When he spoke, Elain broke out of her daze. She made her eyes refocus on him. On his tan skin, on the little crease above his eyebrow, pulled together just a little. Why did he look at her like that? Like he wanted to reach out to her-

·         Nonsense. It’s because she looked like an idiot, that’s why.

·         The flower behind her ear came loose and a lock of hair flopped into her face. She brushed at it, sweeping it behind her ear again. She blinked. It took a second for her to form a sentence.

·         “Now?” it came out almost sharp. She regretted it instantly.

·         “If you don’t mind, that is.”

·         How could she mind, how could she ever, ever mind?

·         Her cheeks flushed again, and she realized she was giving him a smile.

·         Oh, for crying out loud, why did she look so stupidly happy, he’s going to think something’s wrong with her.

·         “I have some supplies in my room, I’ll get them.”

·         Before Elain fully realized it, her feet were out the door.

·         She entered her room, as though she was walking on a cloud. How could she be doing this, offering to pierce the nose of a man she was pining after-

·         She was not pining.

·         She was not.

·         And she’d prove it.

·         She would pierce his nose. And that wouldn’t mean a thing.

·         She ignored how the very idea of her near him, her touching his face sent her insides into butterflies-

·         Where was the little box?

·         Her hands brushed against it, and she pulled it out from under the pile of things neatly tucked away in her drawer. The folds came undone, the clothes flopped around, some even falling out the edge of the drawer-

·         She didn’t; care. Why didn’t she care? Her things were always immaculate.

·         She had a job to do. That’s all. Just a job.

·         A favour for a friend. She ignored the twisting in her at friend.

·         She would do it. And that’s all there would be to it. Nothing more.

·         When she entered the room, he looked up at her.

·         And her insides screamed not a friend, not a friend, not a friend-

·         Oh Mother above, what had she done, she was going to have to touch him-

·         She placed the box on the table, and focused on breathing as she looked up at him.

·         Very carefully she spoke, stressing the words.

·         “Do you want a stud or a hoop?”

·         He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers and she swore the world tilted just a bit-

·         His eyes were soft, questioning.

·         He looked so soft, yet so hewn, the way the heat from the oven caressed her hands when she pulled out fresh loaves, like the weight of the soil between her fingers-

·         She gave a small laugh.

·         Why did she laugh, why was-

·         His eyes shifted a little. Or Elain was imagining things.

·         She was imagining things. For sure.

·         “Here, I’ll help.” Why was it so hard to form a sentence?

·         She pulled a small hoop from the box, one with flat ends that could be slid on, and a stud with a sticky back.

·         She always did a good job, she always went the extra mile.

·         Even when it involved touching him more?

·         She clamped down on the bubbling question.

·         For the first time, she realized she had company. She truly had not been able to look at anyone else, not her sister, not the males watching her intently.

·         She suddenly felt a rush, of self-consciousness and didn’t dare look up at anyone else. She was mortified, they were Fae, they could see right through her-

·         “Which is your good side?”

·         Oh cauldron damn her

·         “Really, Elain?” Cass’s voice rumbled from somewhere in the room, and she put her hands up, defeated.

·         She was an idiot, they all knew.

·         “I don’t really have a preference, love”

·         Love.

·         For a minute, for a full minute, Elain forgot how to move, forgot how to breathe-

·         Love.

·         He hasn’t ever said that to anyone in front of her. Or said it to anyone ever.

·         Why did he say it to her?

·         He must have said it to others before. She wracked her brain as she forced herself to step forward. When she reached for him, her hands shook.

·         “May I?”

·         She had forgotten how to talk above a whisper.

·         She wondered if he even heard her.

·         “Yes.”

·         And the first brush of her fingertips against his skin sent Elain reeling.

·         She made herself focus, focus more than when she was weeding, when she was planting, when she was measuring ingredient-

·         She took a deep breath.

·         The fragrance of his skin hit her hard.

·         He smelled of cedar, mist and hints of mint. It was like the spark of a cedar wood fire, as it dulled to a constant, steady glow in the embers.

·         Mother above, Elain was going to lose her mind-

·         She slipped the hoop onto his skin.

·         “Okay, other side.”

·         She didn’t know if she said it out loud. She didn’t care. All she wanted to remember was to breathe in, breathe out-

·         “This one has a sticky back, you can put it on without having to pierce to see what it looks like.”

·         He rumbled an “mhm’ in response.

·         “Okay, now for the mirror.”

·         Her hand brushed against his when they both reached for it.

·         This time, she was aware that she laughed.

·         It was idiotic really, how far gone she felt in this moment-

·         She watched his profile, the deep cheekbones, the tan skin, the midnight hair.

·         She pictured her fingers pulling through them

·         Enough.

·         “I like the hoop better.” Feyre’s voice cut into the haze.

·         She looked up to see Mor nodding, examining Azriel, her head to the side. Elain felt that pang again.

·         “Yeah the hoop’s nicer, Az”

·         “Doesn’t the hoop also help it heal faster?” Rhys spoke, his voice low behind her.

·         “Yeah, the boys at the camps used to use those for their eyebrows.”

·         But Az’s eyes met hers.

·         “What do you think?”

·         Her voice was again, just above a whisper. She couldn’t even talk to him properly-

·         “The hoop.”

·         Elain picked up the needle.

·         Usually this would be the hard part. Elain would be very aware that she was about the hurt the person in front of her.

·         Even if it was just a pinch.

·         He was a soldier. She knew he’d had worse. But she had to be so careful, so very careful.

·         It was Azriel.

·         The needle broke skin. Elain released a shuddering breath she didn’t know she was holding. She slipped the ring through, it clicked close.

·         When she looked back at him, his eyes were scrunched close. Little crows feet appeared at the edges, and she had a sudden, wild temptation to brush at them-

·         “Did that hurt too much?”

·         He smiled at her and Elain’s breath shuttered. He didn’t smile much.

·         She realized how much she had come to rely on it, come to trying to make it happen.

·         “I’m okay” she sighed in relief.

·         She couldn’t hurt him, she could never-

·         She had to leave, she had to walk away before she did something truly stupid.

·         He turned away from her and reached for the mirror. Where she sat she could see the ring, his profile, the warmth of him on her fingertips-

·         “I like it.”

·         She could have sworn he stilled when she spoke. And when he turned to look at her, that gentle smile appearing again.

·         She had to leave, she had to walk away, remember? She could not afford to do any more favours.

·         When she rose, her feet felt unsteady.

·         “Elain, do you have any of that ointment for the aftercare?”

·         Elain stilled. Oh she was in trouble-

·         Just give him the ointment, just don’t make any more promises, just the ointment-

·         “Oh, yes. I’ll get some. I’ll help you clean the wound up, okay? It should heal around the hoop soon, Azriel.”

·         Dammit, dammit, dammit Elain.

·         “Thank you, love.”

·         Love. There it was again.

·         The term on his lips would be her undoing.

·         As she crossed the threshold, she realized she was smiling again.

·         Mother above, if she was in trouble, might as well fully be in it-

·         “I always liked nose piercings on men. They look elegant.”

·         She didn’t know if he heard her.

·         She hoped he did.

·         He spoke from behind her.

·         Thank you, love. I’m glad you like it.”

·         And, there it was again. 

·   When Elain caught sight of herself in the small mirror on the landing, she realized. She still had dirt on her nose.

#elriel #elriel fluff #azriel #elain #elain x azriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #nessian #feysand #elriel headcannon #awitchylilbitch

[a-courtof-sarah-j-maas]

Feysand Modern- Chapter 8

Feyre POV

Ever since Rhys suggested that we go back to his place, I have been nervous. I could feel my heartbeat pounding, accelerating, excessively. Not only are we going to be “hanging out” in his room, but also, Cassian and Azriel will see us together. This means that eventually Nesta and Elain will find out, which means when I get home I will most likely be bombarded with questions like: How long have you and Rhys been dating? Do you love him? Is he a good kisser? And frankly, I don’t want to be asked all of those questions. Rhys grabs my hand, as if he knows what I’m thinking, and he lifts it to his mouth, and kisses it. The minutes his mouth leaves my hand, I miss the warmth and heaviness of it. He whispers, “It’ll be alright Feyre.” Immediately, most of my worries vanished, and I let the feel of our fingers laced with each others take over.

The moment that we pulled into Rhys’ driveway, I smile a little, remember what happened the last time I was here. It’s the first time I felt happy after Tamlin and what happened with him. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and walked up the stairs together, until Rhys took his other hand and fished in his pocket for his key. The moment we got in the house, I hear Cassian walking downstairs asking, “Rhys, how did the date--” He paused when he was halfway down the stairs, and he saw me. “Feyre, what are you doing here?” He asked slightly confused. I smile sheepishly, and think, here goes nothing, “I was Rhys’ date…” Cassian looks between us and at our interlaced hands, and he smiled. He grins goofishly, and exclaims, “I can’t wait to tell Nes.” I automatically groan, and cover my blushing face with my hand.

“And that’s our que to leave…” Rhys exclaims sarcastically, and suddenly takes my hand and drags me up the stairs, and to his room. He closes the door and leads me to sit on his bed, with him. On his bed. “Feyre, darling, what kind of food do you want? I’m gonna call it in and ask them to deliver.” Umm, I think quickly. “Thai?” He smiles, nods, ands orders it in. Somehow without asking, he knows my favourite is red curry and chicken pad thai, or maybe it’s his favourite too. Finally, when he gets off the phone, he looks straight at me, and asks, “What do you want to do?” I was too busy looking at his lips move, while he was speaking to even comprehend the question he asked. They are so full, plump, so... kissable. The next thing I see is Rhys waving his hand and snapping his fingers in front of my face. “Feyre? Earth to Feyre?” I blink myself out of my daze, and blush. “Sorry, Rhys…” I muttered. “No need to apologize, I know you can’t help staring at this.” He exclaims with a grin, gesturing, once again to his handsome face. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, and pulls me into an embrace against his chest. I look up at him, our faces inches apart, and ask, “What do you wanna do…?” I bite my lip, trying to get rid of the thoughts I am having. He grips my chin between his two fingers, gently, and looks right in my eyes and whispers, “I.. I would like to kiss you.” I respond before I lose my boldness, “Then what are you waiting for?”

Rhys surges forward, and places his lips on mine, softly, letting me take the lead. This is do different then when Tamlin and I kissed, he would claim me, branding me as a possession, he dominated me making me cower in fear. Where as Rhys, being the gentleman he is, lets me choose the pace, the speed. His lips cover mine, shaping around them smoothing, until his tongue darts out, flicking my lower lip. I breathlessly gasp, and open my mouth slowly, allowing his tongue to seep in. His tongue is nowhere, then it is suddenly everywhere. It touches the roof of my mouth, and then tangles up with my tongue. He releases a groan into my mouth at my taste, which automatically has me whimpering in his. He detaches our lips, and whispers, “God, I fucking love that sound.” At those words, I feel the heat gather in a place that is lower than my belly. I gulp, not knowing how to respond.

Within the next half an hour, we talk about ourselves, as we would have done on a normal date, and we kissed periodically in between. Okay, that was an understatement, because we definitely kissed more than we spoke. Just as it was getting heated for the... 10th time?... Azriel walked in and cleared his throat awkwardly, stating that the food was here. He left with a heated blush at interrupting our *ughm* activities, and the minute he left, me and Rhys started laughing furiously at his reaction.

We made our way down the stairs, hand in hand. It was still that honeymoon stage in our relationship, where we loved to be touching every minutes possible, and I don’t think either of us minded it. Rhys, let go of my hand, and I immediately felt the warmth seep out, but only to get plates to put our food on. But he didn’t only get 2, he got 4. “Feyre, darling, I hope you don’t mind, but Cass and Az are gonna eat with us.” I grabbed his hand and made a small smile, “No problem.” He pulled out my chair for me, and placed my plate and utensils down, and then he sat down right next to me. He smiled instantly, but then started shoveling food in his mouth, and at his antics, I snorted. “So, Feyre, how’s your job going?” He asked, obviously, trying to start a conversation. “It’s great, but my hours aren’t too long, thank god. My initial job is selling my painting online, but my profits aren’t too great.” He looks shocked at this and asks, “You sell your paintings to strangers, when you haven’t even shown them to me?” He places a hand over his heart, and makes a flabbergasted expressions that leaves me giggling. “Can you pull up the website?” He fishes into his pocket, and grabs his cellphone. He puts his thumb on the home button, and opens the internet app for me.

I type in my blog’s name and click enter, and it shows up. My breath hitches and shortens, what if he doesn’t like it? What if he thinks it’s stupid or lame? But his face lights up as he scrolls down, and he smiles. He looks at me in awe, and he looks speechless. “Did you actually paint all of these?” He murmurs, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Yeah, it’s nothing special--” “What do you mean? They’re amazing... You’re amazing.” I blush again, unable to hide my happiness.

After another few minutes, of hushed conversations between Rhys and I. Cassian and Azriel come and sit at the table. They are very polite, but not too much where it seems fake or artificial. I look at Cassian, and I immediately smile, because he is laughing at something Rhys said. His laughter and joy is contagious, and I now understand why him and Nesta work. While he is funny and a little boisterous as times, he seems like the type of guy that is loyal and compassionate towards those he loves. Then my gaze flickers to Azriel, and though he is quiet, he is no less compassionate. My eyes lower to his hands, in which they are horribly scarred, probably at a young age too. But that doesn’t stop him from smirking, or smiling at the conversation we are having. We sit at the table talking for hours, having conversations about the most random things, me and Rhys, my work, my blog, Cassian and Az’s jobs.

At about 10:30 in the night, the doors to the house swing open, and in come Nesta and Elain, as they let themselves in with their spare set of keys. When they see me, they run up to me and as expected, bombard me with questions like: Why am I here? How did my date go? Who’s the lucky man? But before I can answer any of the questions, as promised, Cass interrupted--”Feyre and Rhys are dating.” It goes silent for about a minute, and Elain and Nesta look at me, eyeing me, as if they don’t believe that it is true. I nod, trying to convey the message, and then Elain smiles. Although my sisters don’t say anything, I know they are both relieved and happy for me. The tensions seeps out from their shoulders, relieved that I have found someone after Tamlin. At that moment, Nesta looks at Rhys and states nonchalantly, “If you hurt my sister in any sort of way, you and your favourite part will regret it.” Rhys gulps, and his face immediately pales, and he nods at Nesta. She smirked and remarked, “Good.” Then she returned to her conversation with her boyfriend. Rhys looked at me as if he had just wet his hand, and I laughed and lightly shoved him, mentally telling him to knock it off.

As Rhys and I join the conversation, I can’t help but feel happy, giddy almost. The blush on my cheeks refuse to go away, and I find myself giggling at almost everything Rhys says. Under the table, Rhys grabs my hand, unexpectedly, and laces our fingers together. My thumb starts to stroke the back of his hand, as if it has a mind of its’ own, and I look down at it. Then I look up, and smile at Rhys. He smiles back, and brings up our entwined hands to his lips, and kisses the back of mine, discreetly, then sets it gently back on his knee. As the night gets later and later, we keep talking and drinking, and I see this in my future. I see us being a family, all of us. The last thing I remember is leaning back on Rhys’ shoulder and chest, and closing my eyes, taking in the sounds and sight of my friends and family together.

***

“Shshsh, don’t wake her up.” I hear Elain whispering, and suddenly I am floating. My head is cradled against something hard, but soft, and it feels entirely different. My eyes peak open, and I stare up at the handsome face of Rhys cradling me against his chest, his arms under my back and knees, carrying my up the stairs. “Rhys.. where are we going?” I ask, my voice still mulled with sleep. “My room, everyone is staying over the night.” I smile in response, and once again murmur, “Okay.”

He lays me down on the bed, and tucks me into the covers, and then strips himself of his shirt, but luckily... thankfully, leaves his pants on. He hops into bed, almost eagerly, and wraps an arm around my waist, and wraps my legs in his. He picks up a piece of my stray hair, and tucks it behind my ears, and gets close enough, to where I can feel his breath on my neck. I wonder if he knows what he does to me, how he makes me feel. If he knows how my heart rate picks up whenever we touch, or even when I see him. His other hand is lulling me to sleep by drawing soothing circles on my back and sides. His touch isn’t seductive nor arrogant, it’s soft and gentle. He leans over some more, and as I am on the verge of my dreams, he whispers in my ear, “Good night, Feyre.”

[mac-writes-fanfiction]

The Interruption

An update for Slow Burn!

Taglist: @heyyitsangie

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

The House of Wind had become somewhat of a project for Elain since she had been training for longer hours. Still dressed in her training leathers with well-worn tunic pulled over it, she held a potted moonflower lovingly held in her arms as she moved toward the balcony. Rhys had dropped her off with the flower just a moment ago, tugging one of the two braids parting her hair on his way off.

She had decided to drop off the flower before meeting Cassian and Nesta for a grueling training session. Cass throwing innuendos and Nesta acting like she was unaffected for four hours was exceptionally low on her list of activities she was interested in today. Thus, the brief respite with plants before the coming storm.

She had made it her mission to fill the house with various foliage. Not that it needed to be any more perfect than it already was, but she felt the urge to put in her own personal touch, a reminder of how much she appreciated each and every person to frequent the residence. Each of them had saved her and given her a reason to look forward to this new immortal life to be lived.

This particular balcony she knew well. If only because Azriel tended to favor this balcony for his returns from missions. A moonflower would be good, one that bloomed in the night when he returns. She hoped he saw it as a welcome home even when she was not present to welcome him herself.

She could feel the presence of them before she rounded the entrance, readying her face with a smile at the company she turned the corner.

Her breathe hitched when she took in the almost intimate position she had caught her present company huddled in. Mor’s hands were placed simultaneously on both Azriel’s face and his forearm. While his hands, his beautiful gnarled hands, clasped both her elbows. Their whispers were low and intent, the barest smirk spread across his lips.

When both of them turned to face her, Elain could feel her face blanch and her smile shake. Their expressions were what she would perceive as taken aback when they separated from each other. She wished her heart would not squeeze so hard in her chest, or the pit of her stomach had not leaden so quickly. Recounting moments of Feyre under the breath remarks and glances between her new family surfaced in her mind with clarity. Of course, she had seen moments between the two in front of her but always assumed it was of a type of love between two friends with centuries of history. Not between two people in love.

It was Mor that spoke first, bounding toward Elain in a graceful way only Mor could, “Hello, Darling! Oh, what did you bring for the house today?”

Even though her heart stung she straightened her smile and her shoulders, “It’s a moonflower. I figured it would look best where the moonlight could reach it first. I had no idea you two were out here or I would have waited. Sorry for intruding,” realizing almost too late she looked as though she were skulking in the shadows.

A worrisome expression flashed in Mor’s face; Elain still had yet to look at Azriel, even as she felt a small whispery breath against her ear tell her to look at him. Truth was she was scared to see what his face said. She was even more worried she would see nothing on his face at all. Her movements were unnatural as she set the moonflower off to the side of balcony’s entrance.

From behind her she could hear his cool, raspy voice, “You aren’t, El."

Her heart jerked inside her chest. She was going to embarrass herself more if she stayed.

Saving face and making a quick exit was all she could do at this point.

Her eyes came back to Mor, just Mor, “Well I should head to find Cassian and Nesta,” Mor’s eyebrow raised at that. No one wanted to find Cassian and Nesta. Lately, as they had been working out the kinks in their whatever it was they were doing they were all giving the couple a wide berth. But they felt safer now than this situation.

Still, she avoided looking at the male, whose gaze she could feel burning into her, before she gave into that same voice almost desperate this time, look at him, just look at his face. She practically sprinted to the training grounds to avoid doing just that.

Nesta smiling at Cassian almost made her freeze. Cassian took two fingers and tapped them between Nesta’s eyes who playfully slapped them away.

Cassian caught her eyes first, “There you are. I thought I would have to find Az to see if you were glued to his side again.”

At the mention of Azriel she tried with all her effort not freeze. Judging by the narrowed eyes from Nesta and Cassian’s furrowed brow it was unsuccessful.

“Nope just had to find a place for a new plant.”

Cassian’s gaze slid to Nesta, who side-eyed him in return. Elain rolled her eyes at the both of them. Before Cassian could give her a directive on what she should start on, Elain made her way to the makeshift body double made of cloth and stuffing. Her hands were shaking, before she could make them stop her sister grabbed the wrappings and started working on her hands. When she had tightened the last of it, Nesta held her hands until Elain met her stare. Elain’s defiant streak rarely came to life, now she could feel it leaking through her skin. Nesta must have decided not to push her because all she said was, “we’ll talk after dinner,” and returned to the area were Cassian had two blunted swords at the ready.

She left her hands fly in escalated sequences. Fifty sets of one-twos, one hundred sets of one-two-threes. On and on. Over and over. She let her mind wander, not fully aware of what she was doing but relying on muscle memory.

Again, she had overestimated someone’s feeling for her, and how could she not blame herself.

Had she read too much into the comfortable quietness she and Azriel had when they were alone? Did he still think of her as the selfish sister he had first seen at their family’s manor so long ago? As the useless, heartbroken girl who had gotten captured by her own stupidity? She was not that same girl and would never be again. She grew nauseous to think about all the times she had given him a lingering look or kiss on the cheek. She had slept next to him not even a month earlier. She had been terrified she would lose him physically that night. She had never considered losing him emotionally could be almost as devastating.

Maybe her heart had deceivingly fallen in love with the how he had taken to helping her adjust to life as a fae. Not even a heartbeat later a resounding no answered her. No, she had not loved him at first. But over the months by his side, learning about him, studying him, being his friend, she had discovered that she had truly known no one as fiercely loyal and as good as he was. He was at once one of the most dangerous males in history and her safest place. This love for Azriel was not based on superficial looks and needs like the false love she had with Graysen. It was built on a foundation of implicit trust. Even back when she was human she was drawn to his quiet ability to put her at ease.

But if the encounter she had witness was any indication, Mor was the one that held his heart. Mor, who had treated Elain with such fondness and care, deserved to be loved. Mor had told Elain about her past. And if Azriel loved anyone else, she would not hold it against either of them.

Maybe she was to be alone. Let it make her into a stronger person. No one else knew that she had already rejected the bond with Lucien. She had not even told Nesta or Feyre. She thought back to the night, both of them sitting in the garden at the townhouse after he had helped Azriel. He could never know her heart. And she could never know his. She still felt that bond tug at her ribs every now and then, a gentle reminder than Lucien still cared. She found herself tugging back when he crossed her mind, another reminder to stay safe on his journeys. He still had much to learn from Helion, having vowed to be the one to break to curse on Vassa himself. Yes, he would find someone.

She had found her someone, but he already had another. And she would have to live with that. Maybe for eternity.

“…ain… Elain… Elain!”

Scarred, calloused hands grabbed at hers, breaking her out of her trance. The blue syphons attached to said hands were faintly gleaming. Blood seeped from the knuckles of her hands, Elain stared at it as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. She had not even felt the skin break, even now that she had noticed it she still could not feel anything as she flexed her hands. Quickly and efficiently her hands were unwrapped. She wanted to stroke the fingers that held hers, but those fingers did not belong to her, no matter how much she wanted them to. Instead she stood there with her hands limp.

“What happened? Look what you did to your hands. Let me fix them. Please?” she had never heard him speak so quickly, like she might run away before he finished speaking.

“Look at me, Elain. Please. Just look at me,” looking at him seemed dangerous to her. Like it might crack her wide open. A hand under her chin lifted it up, up, up until their eyes met. His looked to be somewhere residing between worried and panicked.

Truth was walking away was impossible and it was slowly killing her. She needed to move away from this closeness, she could not breathe with his hands on her face.

Her hands went to his chest, trying to put even the slightest distance between them. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me. I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you have to.”

Her eyes shot open wide when she felt his hands lock around her neck keeping her from moving away.

His eyes were too intense, anyone else would think it was anger, “I do not have to take care of you. I want to. I will always want to.”

Elain shook her head almost violently, trying to throw off the words before they settled into her chest giving her hope, “You cannot say things like that to me. Not when you have Mor.”

Why was he giving her his confused face?

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.

“If you and Mor are together, you should be with her right now not trying to help me. I know you might still see me as fragile because of how I was when we first met, but I am not that person anymore, Azriel. I need to learn to no-“

His hand was on her mouth. At least she had cut him off before he even started to speak, cutting her off in the middle of a sentence was more than a little frustrating especially when it was something this important. Although, his face was still alarmed. She decided her frustration slip from her. His face moved from alarmed to soft. His hand slid away from her mouth and back around her neck.

“There is a conversation that needs to be had. That has needed to be had for a long time, I think. I would suggest we move to another location to have it since I’d rather not have Cassian and Nesta glaring at me from across the training yard. But first, I am not nor, have I ever been with Mor.”

Hope and confusion were warring inside of her. Her mind had not yet caught up with Azriel, yet. The slight smirk on his face was indication he was aware she had yet to catch up. His arms drew her close and she did not stop him.

“Wrap your arms around my neck.” And she did.

However, she was not expecting him to take off immediately without even putting his arms underneath her knees. Her initial panic made her throw a leg over each side of his hips. She knew she was clutching onto him for dear life, and underneath her sudden embarrassment she knew if he had not wanted this exact reaction his hands would not be drawing her closer even still. She was thankful Rhys, yes Rhys, had braided her hair this morning or it would be damned awful to untangle later.

Their flight to the townhouse was silent, much like most their flights were, but it was different. She felt too much. Clutching him, her face pressed next to his, her legs wrapped around him. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, this way. His wings had always mesmerized her, but this way she studied the shifting in his broad shoulders that carried them. She knew it was inappropriate to touch wings without asking, but she found herself wondering how they felt.

He landed in the garden. Of course, he took her to the garden.

When she made a move to loosen her grip on him, he held fast. She was grateful for it. She had never felt another person this close before, it thrilled and terrified her. His hands were ever slowly inching themselves down her thighs stopping just before they got to her rear. Her breathing was out of control, while Azriel remained perfectly calm. She felt his amusement. She hoped he was proud of himself, she could not even glare at him.

He reached the garden’s bench and lowered her onto the wood. She kept herself from sighing in disappointment when his arms fell away from her.

“I am going to get something for these,” he tugged her hands closer to his face. Cool wisps of shadow traced her fingers and replaced themselves with the shadowsinger’s lips while they traveled up her arm and curled around her shoulder and ear. When she looked back up from the shadows he was walking into the townhouse.

His shadows her playful with her. They had been for a while. Surprisingly, she never noticed them interacting so much with the others. She could feel the shadows move behind and around her neck and jaw, rest there, then move back down to encircle her upper arm almost like a cuff.

Azriel strode back to her. He reminded her of a large cat, the way he prowled. He was almost too graceful and silent for how big he was. Sleek came to her mind when she looked at him. Sleek, Dark, and Silent. Getting overwhelmed by him was still easy after all this time. Would there ever be a time when she would not be?

Instead of crouching in front of her, he straddled the bench. Her legs were pulled to the side and draped over each of his legs so that she was face to face with him. Certain that her face was the color of the roses behind Azriel’s back she ducked her head to focus on their hands. His hands cleaned hers, his hands rubbed salve gently over the wounds. It was while his hands started wrapping her knuckles that he started to speak.

“I have never been with Mor, but I did have feelings for her for a long, long time. You know what she went through all those centuries ago, they started before even then,” she wondered if he was pausing to test her reaction. Her stomach wanted to heave itself at his words. Her hands must have stiffened because he rubbed her palm after he had finished wrapping the first one.

“I had feelings for her, but I never believed I was good enough. For hundreds of years I kept my mouth shut about it. I watched her take lovers, and I had my own,” he said unapologetically. Elain knew he had lovers. It would be absurd for someone who had lived for centuries to not have them, “But in all those years, the only thing I felt in regard to my feelings for Mor was pain. I know now my feelings caused her pain as well. Mor, Cassian and I danced an uncomfortable dance for centuries because I clung to my feelings for her, Mor was afraid to hurt me, and Cassian was stuck in the middle trying to navigate and be a buffer for us both.”

His face was stark and open to her, “Mor and I hurt each other, and we hurt Cassian.”

His second wrapping job finished, he settled for holding her hands firmly in his, she turned hers around to hold his back. “My romantic feelings for Mor did not make me a better person. I know you understand what that is like.”

Elain thought about how bitter Graysen had become toward her after she had been Made.

Azriel lip curled up a little at the corner, “Although to be fair, Graysen might just be a prick.”

A watery giggle broke left her mouth with a smile. She saw his eyes lock onto it, “There she is.”

Elain cleared her throat, he watched her, waiting for her to speak, “Do you still have those feelings for her?”

Eyes always intent on hers, “I’ve reconciled that no, I no longer have those feelings for Mor. And what you saw this morning,” Elain felt her cheeks flush again, “was a conversation of forgiveness. I asked for her forgiveness. And she asked for mine in return. When I saw you standing there, I froze. I was concerned you had heard what I had just told her, before I could come to you and tell you myself.”

Scared to hear the answer as she was, Elain asked the question anyways, “And what is it you wanted to tell me?”

“That I love you. I think I have for a while now.”

He said it so casually, like it would not break open her world and put it back together more beautifully than she could have ever imagined.

She knew she was crying and did not try to stop it. He wiped the tears away, while he continued talking, “I wanted to give you time to come to me at first, to know it was your choice to love me. It might be selfish of me, but I need to tell you. You need to know sleeping with you in my arms that night was the happiest I have ever felt. I want you to know I could spend the rest of eternity waiting for you if that is what you need.”

Elain’s hands grappled for the front of his leathers, pulling herself up into his lap fully. And this time her lips met his. His lips were cool and a relief to her own that were burning. Their lips separate and just as quickly came back together again, this time almost wild. Her hands tugging at him needing him closer. She sighed, and he growled. His tongue received entrance to her mouth freely. Hers seeking his in return. She like he was stealing her soul and replacing it with his own.

She separated their lips; she may be immortal, but she still needed to breathe. He was staring at her eyes almost glazed like he could not believe what just happened.

“I love you, Az,” at that his gaze cleared and touch hers.

“You could see me, when no one else could. I feel stronger because of you. A mate bond could not even keep me from loving you,” maybe she should have told everyone about her rejecting that same bond.

“I told Lucien I would not mate with him. We both decided rejecting the bond was the right thing to do.”

His face did not register surprise at the fact, “Sometimes, I think the shadows are just as attracted to you as I am.” They had told him, is what he did not say. It felt nice to be favored by his shadows.

“Kiss me, again,” was all she said. He kissed her like she was indestructible. And she loved it. Her instincts her screaming to take and give. Her body pushed insistently against him. Finding him hardened against her stomach only made her more desperate. It was Azriel who stopped them this time.

His throat cleared, “As much as I want to make you scream on this bench, I think it’d be better to wait until we can find somewhere all our lovely friends will be unable to witness it.” Elain buried her face in his neck and groaned, earning her a raspy chuckle.

“Your sister has been watching us for last twenty minutes at least.”

“Oh, Mother Tits,” she might die from embarrassment, “Want to skip dinner tonight?”

Azriel’s laugh was full and burned a path to her heart, “I can think of something I would much rather eat.”

She knew she should be scandalized, yet a firm, “Please,” is what she answered stroking a finger along the ridge of his wing causing him to shiver.

His answering smile was wicked and gorgeous. Without another word he stood with her still clinging to him and took off into the blue canopy over Velaris.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acomaf fanfiction #acowar #acowar fanfiction #elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain

[moiraineswife]

Cassian

First impression- I actually can’t remember having much of a first impression on Cass actually, I didn’t think about him that much, which isn’t surprising because he’s not what I’d typically describe as my ‘type’ of character. 

Impression now- Cassian is a character that I shouldn’t be this deeply in love with but I am. He’s got that typical hulking, muscular, greatest warrior ever blah blah blah exterior but the interior is all heart and emotion. He’s incredible compassionate, emotionally sensitive, self-aware, supportive, loyal and committed.Also, fandom talks a lot about Rhys’ feminism but I actually think Cassian would make a more interesting argument on that front. Cassian doesn’t give the women around him titles and empty gestures and the illusion of power that he ultimately still controls. Cassian trains them, teaches them how to defend themselves and fight for themselves and doesn’t make them reliant on him but shows them how they can rely on themselves. One of the first things Cassian does for Feyre is to tell her that she’s found herself a teacher if she wants one. No mess, no fuss, just, I see what you’ve been through, I see how you’ve suffered, I see why, I’m going to give you the ability to make sure that never happens to you again Same with Nesta - he gives her a blade and gives her basic self-defence tips to take care of herself. He affirms her agency and her power and how she is in control and how she chooses, and not through a middle-man. If she doesn’t want a man to touch her, she dictates that. He doesn’t offer to be her shield, he puts a blade in her hand and tells her she can damn well look after herself) He supports and empowers without smothering or directing, he’s a pillar, not a pedestal and that’s important. 

Favourite moment-  He studied Nesta for a long moment. She was still glaring at thequeens, her eyes lined with tears—tears of rage and despair, from that firethat burned her so violently from within. When she finally noticed Cassian, shelooked up at him.His voice wasrough as he said, “Five hundred years ago, I fought on battlefields not farfrom this house. I fought beside human and faerie alike, bled beside them. Iwill stand on that battlefield again, Nesta Archeron, to protect thishouse—your people. I can think of no better way to end my existence than todefend those who need it most.” The nessian content is good but from a Cassian point of view I think this just embodies who he is. Because this actually is not about Nesta in the sense that Cassian is not standing there saying he will protect her, at no point does he ever say that to her, he promises to protect her house, her people, people who cannot protect themselves. This is for Nesta in the sense that it mirrors her ideals and it mirrors what she wanted and argued for a few moments before but it’s bigger than her. This is the heart of Cassian - protecting those who cannot protect themselves - is what his character embodies. The warrior who fights without expectation of glory or riches or power but because there is a frightened child behind him that he will give his life to defend. Same kind of idea in the “I know” scene with Feyre and the scene where he supports Mor in ACOWAR after the CoN travesty. 

Idea for a story- I might actually want to take Cassian’s wings from him and see how he copes and what he does, how it changes him and how he stays the same in spite of that. Cassian has, I think, a deeper connection to his Illyrian heritage than either Azriel or Rhys. I don’t think it’s blind, I think there’s condemnation and awareness in there, but there’s a bit of pride as well. I also think this could have made an interesting and powerful statement with regards to the female Illyrians. Hundreds, probably thousands of those women have had their wings clipped and mutilated to prevent them ever flying again. Where’s the outcry for them? People lost their minds when Cassian’s wings were threatened, when he might not be able to fly again, but all of those women have their wings clipped and are not allowed to fly, are forced to breed. I want a narrative where Cassian loses his wings and can’t fly anymore and he returns to the camps and gets a very serious reality shock from the thousands of women who still have their wings, who were not allowed to sacrifice them to shield a loved one, who there was no outrage and agony over and so he forms a new legion - the Illyrians who cannot fly but who can still fight. The females with clipped wings, the Illyrians born with deformities, the Illyrians who lost their wings to battle scars or infection. Cassian trains them and rallies them and rediscovers purpose in himself. The female Illyrians who can fly stand with their clipped sisters and join this legion too. Cassian appoints a young daemati female soldier to his command and uses her and the other females who are more fierce and loyal than any others he’s ever worked with, to command and direct his aerial troops. 

Unpopular opinion- Erm...I don’t think I have one?? Maybe ‘Cassian is a more interesting feminist study than Rhys’ but idk. 

Favourite relationship- Nessian intrigues me and delights me a hell of a lot. But I think his relationship with Az is something that should get more attention - there’s a definite ‘two sides of the same coin’ kind of yin and yang between them and comparing and contrasting them is really interesting tbh. Also Cassian/Mor (even though I have some minor regards with how this was handled in regards to ACOWAR and Moriel) it is Good and Pure and there’s a lot of supportive unconditional love there that I’m here for. 

Favourite headcanon- Cassian designs and personally gives his soldiers their Illyrian tattoos. The Inner Circle all have a variation of the Night Court insignia specific to the Court of Dreams somewhere on their bodies. After the war he adds it to Feyre’s spinal tattoo. He and Nesta have matching tattoo designs inked onto their bodies to mark their mating bond acceptance. Nesta saw the designs doodled at the side of one of his reports and announced that she wanted them. Cassian was shocked but didn’t argue. He gave her hers; she gave him his. 

#cassian #nessian #nesta archeron #acowar #rhysand #morrigan #azriel #feyre #the court of dreams #apparently i have a great many cassian feelings #what else is new? i am Attached now to both that story idea and the tattoo thing #i've been attached to the tattoo thing for decades #answered #lauren answers #ask game answers #<3 dear good bat

[acourtofsunshine-blog]

The Cullens literally all have an acotar equivalent

I was so completely shocked when I first noticed this parallel Rosalie Cullen is Nesta: - she hates her own immortal existence and preferred her life as a human - she is seemingly cold and heartless, yet in actuality she cares so much - her mate is Emmet (who I’m comparing to Cassian) - fiercely loyal to her friends - it wasn’t her choice to become a vampire similar to how it wasn’t Nestas choice to be Made - ok she’s gorgeous let’s not lie here

Emmet Cullen is Cassian: - he’s really loud and just so very Cassian- has the thunderous laugh the 12 year old boy sense of humour - he also is loyal to a fault, he would happily die defending his loved ones - he is Mated to Rosalie (who is the equivalent of Nesta) - he’s such a lill goofball - he’s very physically strong and muscular ;)

Alice Cullen is Mor: - cheery and kind - almost always has a smile on her face and tries to make the best out of every situation - BADASS WHEN NECESSARY - loyal to a fault - gorrrgeous - Mated to Jasper (who i see as Azriel) - her powers include seeing the future similar to how Mor’s truth telling powers see the present

Jasper Cullen is Azriel: - subdued and doesn’t always show his emotions - physically strong - has a dark past and is a better person because of it - Jasper was able to move from the person he used to be and grow into someone who is loving and kind - actual daddy 😍

Bella Cullen/Swan is Feyre: - she is the protagonist of the entire story - introduced to a supernatural world she originally fears - turns from a human to an immortal (like how Feyre is Made) - Bella has an ENORMOUS character development from the first to last book: she goes from being fragile and damaged to being a strong amazing vampire woman who loves herself and her family - Bella’s weaknesses are acknowledged and then eventually healed- she becomes happy, her nightmares stop, her depression gets better and she stops isolating herself and starts enjoying life - she puts her family before herself and acts to please them rather than herself

Edward Cullen is Rhys: - if I’m being honest this one is a little of a stretch, Edward resembles Rhys in some ways but in others they are very very different Let’s start off with some similarities: - hot damn Edward 😍 - he’s mated to Bella (aka Feyre;)) - very much in love with Bella and protects her with his life (I’ll talk more on that later and why it makes me a little uncomfortable) - would give 100% of himself up for his family and friends - has that adorable bromance with Emmet and Jasper (aka Az and Cass) - has a very dark past and because of that believes he is a monster - ok one more time: HOT DAMN EDWARD 😍 Now let’s talk differences: - Edward is a weirdly protective of Bella, it makes me a little uncomfortable. Don’t get me wrong I love those two, but there were just a few scenes where I was like what wtf. It’s little things, like him making a decision for her or telling her she’s not allowed to do something or go somewhere (or maybe watching her sleep ya know?? Lol) - Edward doesn’t have the complete and utter sassiness that Rhys does (sorry bud, but to be fair it’s hard to encompass that much feistyness as one human actor . ./) - Edward doesn’t really meet the physical description of Rhys (pale versus tan skin, his eyes etc) - Edward hasn’t been through nearly as much as Rhys (and probably never will) Okay those are all the characters I can think of!! If you have anymore ideas reblog them:) And I’ll leave you with this: My absolute favorite Emmet/Rosalie aka Nessian scene is the baseball one. Rosalie is soooo pissed that she got out and is just giving everyone death looks and Emmets suddenly like BABE ITS JUST A GAME and smiles at her and she gives him this hidden smile :) I CAN TOTALLY SEE NESSIAN DOING THIS EXACT THING. LIKE NESTA BEING A HARDO @ SOME GAME AND CASSIAN BEING LIKE BAAABE CMON Okay peace out cuties ✌️

#acotar acomaf acowar TWILIGHT Cullen's character comparisons Feyre Rhys Nesta Cassian Nessian love

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 6 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

*****

Azriel was still asleep when she opened her eyes, his hair falling over his eyes as his head dropped onto the back of the chair, had he slept there all night? She couldn't think how he actually managed to fall asleep in a chair of all places. He opened his eyes as she sat up,

"Morning, sleepyhead," she laughed, and he yawned,

"Morni-" and yawned again, setting Gwyn laughing again,

"C'mere, you're hair's all messy." She leaned towards him, quickly tiding it up, brushing it backwards through her fingers, not quite registering how still he had gone until she had finished and sat back, "There we go, that's better,"

"Thank you," he said, his voice much lower than usual, still with notes of sleep in it, she had never noticed it before, and she had to force herself to get up normally, and wash her face, without thinking about that voice. She stared into the mirror for a few moments, mentally preparing herself to face him again, "Gwyn, I'm gonna go and get dressed, I'll see you at breakfast."

"Okay," she shouted back, shit. How was the sound of his voice slowly shredding her self-control? It was just the change in his voice, nothing else, it couldn't be anything else she told herself. She was foolish to even consider it.

Apparently, Cassian and Nesta hadn't emerged yet, so it was just Gwyn and Azriel at the dining table that morning, forcing Gwyn to try to control her thoughts, to push any thoughts of him aside and focus on her food. She hated the silence, it felt wrong, unnatural, and she sighed, anything to break the stillness around them. Even that small sound seemed to wake Azriel,

"Gwyn," she looked up, startled, and smiled, "I just wanted to talk to you about what's going on in Illyria." Oh, she'd forgotten to ask Nesta,

"Okay,"

"I don't know how much Nesta's already told you,"

"I haven't had a chance to ask her yet, so very little."

"Okay, well, the bottom line is that there are those among the Illyrians who hate the changes Rhys has been implementing. Banning wing-clipping, and enforcing it, forcing them to train females, and putting systems in place for those who want help, so they can contact us easily, without their families knowing." Gwyn nodded, good, she'd heard about wing-clipping, seen what had happened to Emerie, it was about time it was finally gotten rid of, completely.

"Okay, so, some of them don't like it, then,"

"No, there are some who have been attempting to ignore the laws, and have failed," he added, seeing her worry, "And then there are those who are restless, hating that they fall under Rhys' jurisdiction. They want an independent Illyria, and freedom to treat their  females how they wish." Gwyn gasped,

"They wouldn't survive on their own, right? They don't have a unified leader, anyone who wanted would be able to invade easily, and their army is paid by Rhysand, they couldn't afford it otherwise."

"Exactly, that's why the wannabe rebels are a minority, but they are there. I promised you no secrets, it's no good trying to protect you from this. There's nothing that could happen in Velaris though, any potential fighting will be in Illyria."

"You're going to fight?" He'd only come back from another war a year ago, and she couldn't face the thought of him, of any of them, on a battlefield.

"Maybe. Hopefully it won't come to that. Hopefully, the loyal Illyrians will be able to stop a full rebellion before it starts. Most of them do support Rhys' new laws, but the minority are very vocal."

"You need to know who is stirring up violence then. And where, and how many, and how strong they are."

"Y-yeah, exactly, have you been reading about this?"

"No, why?"

"Never mind, it's just, you seem to know exactly what to look for, and at dinner last night, you were paying attention to everyone."

"I was just trying to work out what to talk about, I doubt I'd remember it."

"Oh, really, who was complaining, quietly I might add, about the wine running out?"

"Mor."

"Yeah, and what did Rhys say?"

"That it served her right for drinking all his best wine." Azriel raised an eyebrow,

"And Feyre?"

"Laughed at both of them, and called Rhysand a pretentious prick."

"So you don't remember anything?" Gwyn laughed,

"I don't know."

"You instincts are spot-on. It takes months of training for some of my spies to learn to listen to a room like that," he mused,

"Then train me."

"What?"

"Train me. To be a spy, maybe I can help with Illyria."

"Absolutely not, you've not even trained to fight for that long, I'm not letting you anywhere near rebellious Illyrians."

"That's stupid, Az. Train me to help, or at least to listen, I visit Emerie at Windhaven quite often, so I can at least help you get a picture of what it's like there, if nowhere else. Please, I want to be helpful, I'm done being useless."

"You've never been useless, Gwyn, and I will train you, but only so that you have an extra skill set to defend yourself, not so you can go and spy in Illyria." Gwyn huffed,

"Az. You're being stupid, stop trying to keep me safe, train me, and then let me use those skills."

*****

Gwyn was glaring at him, annoyance glimmering in her eyes, he was being stupid, but some part of him couldn't bear the thought of her in danger. She kept her gaze on him as she finished eating, giving him a chance to think,

"I won't say yes," Gwyn shot him another exasperated look, "But," he continued, "You can be a last resort, only if my usual spies can't get in, or can't find anything, then you can go." She narrowed her eyes, considering, and nodded,

"Perhaps Em has heard something, we should ask her today." Azriel nodded, and quickly tidied up their plates,

"You wanna help set up for training?" He grinned, "Should be fun today," Gwyn sat bolt upright,

"Oh no, no, I know that look, you're going to be mean, is there an obstacle course of something?"

"You'll have to come if you want to find out," he slipped out of the room, chuckling as she swore and scrambled out of her chair to follow him. Gwyn's eyes widened at the sight of the course he and Cassian had secretly set up last night before dinner,

"What is it?" She breathed, pretending to be nervous of it, but Azriel noticed how she was shifting her weight from foot to foot, how her voice raised in pitch slightly, she wasn't scared. She was excited,

"It's sort of an obstacle course, but this one simulates enemies, so Cass and I can both watch you fight, without one of us having to be the opponent. And, as a bonus, the second half is brilliant for silent movement training, which is what we'll work up to if you want lessons from me." Gwyn nodded gleefully, and Azriel chuckled at her excitement, "There's only a few things I need to get set up now, the moving parts and stuff. If you like, you can get the weapons racks out and ready while I do that."

As expected, Gwyn was right at the front of the queue to tackle the course, with Nesta and Emerie right behind her, she was bouncing on her toes, waiting, waiting,

"Go!" Cassian's shout spurred her into action, and she leaped over the wall obscuring the course from her view, immediately ducking the padded bar swinging towards her head. She kept light on her feet as she ducked and weaved between moving obstacles, one wrong step and she'd be sent flying. Gwyn kept her focus on one obstacle at a time, facing one, and moving to the next, she rolled sideways, and leaped onto a wall to avoid the final bar, and it slammed into the wood next to her. She gasped, and glared at Azriel, but he chuckled, it wouldn't have really hurt her if she hadn't moved, just left a bruise perhaps, but the near-miss spurred her on, and she sprinted for the next obstacle, but her undivided focus left her exposed for the first 'enemy' to knock her feet out from underneath her. Gwyn gasped and rolled, and Nesta craned her neck to try to see at the sound, glaring at Cassian, and mouthed something at him,

"She says that if Gwyn's hurt, she'll kill us both," Cassian whispered, and Azriel snorted,

"She can try," Gwyn had rolled forwards, her hands automatically raising into her guard, and she easily blocked the next blow from the padded gloves,

"Wait! Az, how do I win?" She shouted when she ducked past and landed a blow, but barely ducked the backhanded counter-strike,

"You run, Gwyn. Run!" He shouted, "You have to beat the obstacles whilst avoiding your enemies, try not to activate the rest of them," Gwyn shot him a look before taking off, and made it past the next obstacle, before another 'enemy' activated, and she was trapped between the two of them. Azriel deactivated them with a quick command to his shadows before they could hurt her, but she was still stuck,

"Azriel!" She shouted, "Make them move, you idiot!" He didn't respond, and just chuckled at her annoyance, "Azriel!" She snapped again, and he reset the course, offering her a hand over the fence to the training ring, and chuckled when she slapped it aside, climbing over herself,

"Not bad for a first try. But, you've got to be aware of your surroundings a bit more, focus on the obstacle, but be aware of the rest of them, both of those enemies were avoidable, in fact, all of them are. When I tested this yesterday, I didn't set any off, Cass set off a few, but you should be able to avoid all of them. You're smaller than us, more agile, use that to your advantage." Gwyn nodded, and grinned when he marked her place, "Beat that next time."

Nesta came within spitting distance of Gwyn's record, a sprained ankle as she underestimated the distance of a jump sending her sprawling to the floor. She was still leaning against Cassian as he fussed whilst Emerie ran the course, only losing when a wing clipped an obstacle, knocking her off balance. She swore, but scrambled over the fence to join her sisters to watch the other females.

"Make sure you cool off, ladies," Azriel called, "Gwyn, you're with me," he stepped aside to a quiet corner of the ring. "First off, I want you to learn to move silently, it should be easy here, there's no stones to move, or creaky floorboards. Go and stand by the wall, and try to reach me without my hearing you."

"Your shadows-"

"They won't betray you, I honestly think they'd rather betray me than you," Gwyn snorted, "Make sure you place your feet carefully, and move slower than you think you need to." Gwyn nodded and Azriel turned his back, waiting for her footsteps to halt as she reached the wall. Ten meters. That was all she needed to cross. She took a deep breath, and fell silent, but after what must have been only a few steps, she rushed, placing a foot too quickly, and Azriel whirled, "Start again, you rushed, move slowly," Gwyn alerted him quickly three more times, groaning in exasperation each time he sent her back to the start, but gradually she started getting closer, only her excitement getting the better of her. She was one step away from him when she scuffed the ground,

"No!" she hissed when Azriel turned to face her, "I can do it, I can."

"I know you can, don't celebrate too early, that's the only issue." Gwyn sighed, and started again, this time remaining silent until she poked him in the shoulder and let out a whoop of delight, grinning at him, and he laughed. She was shining, and his heart leapt with her, his shadows too, her joy becoming his own, and she practically bounced up to him and beamed up at him. There was just something about her, her mere presence lifted his worries, and let his shadows roam, not constrained, but freed. She didn't chase them off as Elain had, or even Mor, she made them sing. He blinked, and realized he'd been staring, so coughed, and forced himself to look away, "Grab a sword, practice your basic movements silently."

Gwyn picked everything up remarkably quickly, it had only taken her half an hour to reach him, and now she was already adapting that technique to the swordplay, even moving the sword silently through the air. Azriel had begun coaching her through it, but now he too fell silent, just watching her, only occasionally offering pointers, and stopped her when he noticed her swings slowing down, her breathing speeding up,

"Go jog a lap, then stretch off, that's enough for today." Azriel stayed to watch, making sure she cooled off completely before leaving her to bathe and change, he should have reports to read from all his spies by now anyway, and Rhys would want an overview this evening.

*****

Gwyn toweled her hair off, and for the first time since she could remember, she had no work to do, Merrill hadn't sent her any messages, any demands more like, and she didn't feel like just sitting and reading on her own. She grabbed her book off her nightstand, and went to find Nesta, but made a face when she heard suspect noises from her friend's room, turning on her heel and heading back the way she had come. She still didn't want to be alone, so she knocked on Azriel's door, and pushed it open at the grunt from inside,

"Can I sit with you, Nesta is, uh, y'know, and I don't want to be on my own. I won't disturb you," she added, noticing the paperwork on his desk, and he smiled,

"Of course, it's just reports to go through,"

"Anything interesting?"

"No. Not yet, but I've only read through a couple, hopefully someone will have something." Gwyn nodded, and settled into an armchair to read. They fell into a comfortable silence, each reading their own material, at ease in each other's company.

As time wore on, Azriel's brows scrunched together, and he narrowed his eyes, even his shadows seemed agitated as they flitted between the two of them. Gwyn set her book aside, and crossed to his side, gently resting a hand on his shoulder,

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing important," he offered her a small smile, "Don't worry," Gwyn squeezed his shoulder softly,

"Az, what is it? Even if I can't help, let me take some of the burden. I won't pretend to know what your job's like, but please, let me help however I can."

"You are helping, by being here, by being safe, you're helping. I have so many people to worry about," he raised the papers, "I can't easily protect them, but you, and the rest of you here, I can keep you safe here. That burden lessens when you're all here." Gwyn softly cleared a spot on the desk, tiding the unusually messy papers, and sat in front of him,

"Did something go wrong?"

"No, I'm just worried it might, honestly, Gwyn, I'm fine." Gwyn narrowed her eyes disbelievingly but before she had a chance to respond, Azriel pushed his chair backwards, and made for the door, "I need to clear my head a bit, I'll be back in a bit."

"Oh, okay," of course he didn't want her help, she was probably just a nuisance, she couldn't possibly understand the stresses he faced on a daily basis. If he needed help he'd ask Cassian, she should leave him alone. But, even as she allowed him time, something made her feet move, made her climb the stairs to the roof.

The stars were beautiful, shining together, and she relaxed at the familiar sight, counting the stars as she had since she was a little girl. She stopped moving at the sight of another figure sitting on the edge of the roof, hunched over, his knees drawn up to his chest, with his great,beautiful wings drooping behind him. Gwyn made her presence known as she crossed the roof and sat beside him,

"Az," she whispered, and put an arm around his shoulders, "Please. Talk to me." he shook his head, staring into the distance still, even as a wing shifted closer to her, "What's wrong?" He just turned to face her, his beautiful face filled with despair, his eyes, usually so full of life were dimmed, empty. Gwyn moved before she knew what she was doing, cupping his face in her hand, and he leaned into the touch, "What happened?" She breathed,

"Nothing. That's the problem. Nothing. I can't even do my job." He broke off and turned away, but Gwyn turned him back,

"Talk to me."

"Rhys has a meeting with all the Camp Lords tomorrow, it could be the make or break moment for the rebellion. I was supposed to get information, who tries to fight his new laws, who wants to fight back, you know. I have nothing. He's going in blind. It's my fault, I failed him. Again." Tears pricked Gwyn's eyes at the despair in his voice, the self-loathing.

"You didn't fail anyone. You did everything you could."

"I could have gone in myself."

"To Illyria? They'd have clammed up completely at the slightest whiff that you were there. You have to trust your spies, and sometimes they won't find anything, and it isn't your fault."

"I couldn't even get them in to some camps."

"Again, they couldn't get in, not you. They work for you, but something that goes wrong on their end does not mean that you let anyone down. Sometimes things go wrong, and no-one is to blame."

"I can't keep letting him down."

"You don't keep letting him down. You could never let him down."

"I did. I wasn't with him when he went to that meeting. I could have stopped it." Gwyn knew the meeting he was talking about, "There was no-one to sniff his drink, if I had been there, she would never have been able to sink her claws into him." Gwyn just nestled into his side, letting him talk, "Fifty years, Gwyn. I failed to find a way to save him for fifty years! And then when he got back, I got injured at Hybern, I forced Feyre to go back to Spring. I am the reason that he almost lost his mate as soon as he found her. I should have known that the queens were after Feyre's sisters in the first place, but I failed them, too." Gwyn rubbed his shoulder, holding his gaze as he spoke, "I was too slow in the battle, he died because I couldn't help."

"No." Gwyn breathed, “He died to heal the Cauldron, you couldn't have done anything.”

"Yes, I could. I was with Helion, his specialty is spellwork. If I'd gotten him there faster, they could have worked together."

"You got him there fast enough to revive him."

"But without Feyre, we never would have had the chance. I can't risk something happening again, for all I know, they might all attack him at the meeting. He'd be fine, but still, I should know if there's a plan like that." Azriel finally stopped for a breath, his gaze returning a little, actually looking at her, not just seeing.

"Az, you have done everything and more that anyone could possibly expect. Plan for what might happen, with what you have, but we can't use what we don't have, so don't beat yourself up about it. Please." It broke her, seeing him like this, miserable, thinking he didn't deserve everything he had built for himself. She couldn't bear the thought of him suffering, alone, thinking that he'd failed those he loved most. Before she could reconsider, she was singing, singing the only song she knew would help him, his mother's lullaby,

Arrorró mi niño

Arrorró mi sol

Duérmase pedazo

De mi corazón

Cierre los ojitos

Ya se va a dormir

Que el pícaro sueño

No quiere venir.

Azriel's gaze remained on her as she sang, his breathing becoming more regular, until his shadows began to dance. She was still leaning against his side when the song finished, and she started again, tears pricking her eyes when he joined in, no hint of the misery left in his voice, just hope.

"Let's get to bed, it's late," she whispered, and Azriel didn't complain as she led him back to his room, but when she turned to leave, she couldn't. He needed her now. She perched on the bed beside him, setting a pillow against the wall, and sang again, stroking his hair as he drifted off to sleep, his head in her lap.

*****

Azriel actually felt rested for the first time in far too long, his mind clear, focused, and he carefully lifted Gwyn into his arms. She snuggled into him as he carried her back to her own room, leaving her sleeping, safe in her own bed. He left her a note,

Gone with Rhys to the meeting, I'll be back this evening. Thank you.

He stole one last look at Gwyn's sleeping form before slipping away.

#fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #Azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn #gwyn acosf #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara