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msfeyredarling · 2 years
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Chapter 4: Changing Tides
The tap tap tap of the rain on the window and trees bellowing in the icy wind made the usually cold floorboards, freezing. The bright pink fluffy bed socks warmed her cold toes but the rest of her body felt as if it was in the heat of the scorching sun. 
Feyre wore a blue off-shoulder flowy dress that did not keep her warm but rather to cool her flushed skin. She couldn’t tell if she was flushed, simply because it was cold outside, or for some other reason, that may involve three handsome brothers. Although she decided to move on from the boys, she couldn’t suddenly erase how unmistakably beautiful they were, hence her current predicament. 
She flowed easily between the kitchen and the dining room. Her mother and Rhiannon prepared lunch in the kitchen as Feyre set out the dining table. Every piece of cutlery was perfectly aligned on the dark purple napkins, and a combination of white florals and bright greenery sat in the middle light purple runner. The light purple contrasted beautifully against the dark wood of the table. Her inner artist sighed in delight. 
When she finished the table, she went back to the kitchen to help with lunch, she was on salad duty. She began breaking the crisp leaves off the lettuce and as she was slicing up the tomatoes, the brothers decided to show. 
All three strolled in looking perfect, not a hair out of place. Feyre chose to ignore them as they sat on the stools, unwilling to lose a finger or so she told herself. Unfortunately, her silence wasn’t unnoticed and as the mothers left the kitchen, they pounced. “So the deb ball huh?” Rhys waggled his brows, elbows resting on the counter as he leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. She gave a soft hum of agreement and moved her cutting board to the opposite bench, her back facing them as she began on the onions. 
“Who are you going to take?” Rhys continued but Feyre ignored him. 
“You say that like she'll go through with it and dress up in a white fluffy gown,” Azriel commented. His words hurt, more than they should have. It's been three years since they last sore her and they expected her not to change during that time, that she would be the same old and boring Feyre. 
She was so caught up in her mind and insecurities, she didn’t realise she had been rapidly chopping the onions until a hand laid over her own. Feyre immediately stopped, eyes lined in silver as she looked up into hazel eyes. “Hey,” he said softly. Cassian. He always knew when she was hurting, always there to comfort her, but after last night she thought everything would change between them. It seemed his heart was still prepared to give all its love and she was so undeserving of it. 
“Can we talk?” he asked, eyes pleading with her. “In private,” he gave a pointed look towards Rhysand and Azriel as they stared at the knots in the bench with fascination. 
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “Of course,” she replied, if only because she didn’t want an audience. As she followed him out of the room, her stomach filled with dread. She didn’t know what to expect but she had a nagging feeling this might be the end. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought about losing one of her best friends. 
Feyre followed Cassian to his room. He softly closed the door and turned to face her. Her cheeks became damp as the tears fell.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered
“What?”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to push you or make you feel uncomfortable. I understand if you don’t–”
Warm arms wrapped around her, his warmth seeping through. He held her to his chest, her head resting just below his shoulder. “No Feyre, I’m the one who should be sorry. I was drunk and I lashed out at the closest person available. I am sorry. What I said was completely uncalled for and I didn’t mean any of it. You are my best friend…” he paused. “…and nothing in this world could ever change that.” 
Feyre looked up at Cassian. His eyes were closed as he took in deep breaths like his thoughts had been weighing heavy on his heart. She knew him well enough to know that to be true. “I appreciate your apology,” she stated. She knew his words were sincere and truthful but she also couldn’t suddenly forget what happened. 
Cassian opened his eyes and she looked into his bright hazel irises. He raised a single brow, his lips flickering up into a small smile. “You appreciate it?” 
“Well I can’t let you get everything now can I? I’m going to make you work hard for my forgiveness. I hold your fate in my hands,” she teased and was greeted with his beautiful booming laugh. 
“That’s my Feyre,” he beamed at her and a shiver went down her spine at thought of being ‘his’. A warm fuzzy feeling arose before she got the chance to squash it. She couldn’t deny that she liked how it sounded but she reminded herself she was ‘his’ best friend not ‘his’ anything else. She made a promise and she was going to keep it. 
Feyre linked her arm through Cassian’s as they walked back to the kitchen. “His and her majesty decided to join us,” Rhys said from where he was dicing up more tomatoes. Azriel was mixing the salad as Rhys added more ingredients. 
“You should be grateful we are gracing you with our royal presence,” Cassian replied. Cas helped Rhys take the food to the dining table, bickering as they went. She couldn’t help the smile that bloomed. 
Azriel came and stood beside her. “Are you alright?” He asked softly. She peered up at his face, unsurprised he saw right through her. 
“I’m fine. Everything is perfect now that I’m back at this house with you lot,” Feyre grabbed ahold of his hand, ignoring his look of concern, and pulled him along to the dining room. “Hurry up or there won’t be any food left. I do not trust those two to save us any,” she huffed and Azriel chuckled. 
Everything was and would be alright. If she followed her own advice, this summer would be like all the rest, but with less pinning and more fun.
Chapter 5
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msfeyredarling · 2 years
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Chapter 1: Beginning Anew
“Issac’s bummed you’re missing the annual beach party next weekend,” Mor said, staring at Feyre as she waited for an answer.
Feyre deliberately ignored her comment as she folded her clothes. “Um, can you make sure you're all good for the game,” she replied to the stare that was burning a hole into the back of her head.
“Issac Hale is texting me about you and you’re talking about volleyball?”
Mor was right. Feyre would have normally pounced at the idea of Isaac. She wasn’t completely obvious to his flirty comments and lustful smiles. But every time she thought of him, brown hair became black, pale hands became golden brown and blue eyes meshed to hazel or the deepest blue. She liked Isaac and thought he was handsome but in her mind, he could never compare to three particular brothers. Even if she could never have any of them.
“I know what that look means and you either need to tell them or forget them. And don’t give me that ‘they are out of my league’ crap. That’s bullshit. If anything they aren’t even near being in your league.” Mor stood from where she perched on the bed and walked towards Feyre.
She placed both her hands on Feyre’s shoulders as she slowly turned her until they were face to face. “Feyre you are beautiful and smart and wonderful. Anyone who had the chance to meet you would agree. If I wasn’t your best friend and I didn’t already have a girlfriend, I’d ask you out because Feyre you are amazing and in all honesty, anyone who isn’t absolutely thawed by you is a dumbass with a stick up their arse who deserves to walk into a pole and fall in a bin.”
Feyre couldn’t help it, she laughed. Deep belly laughs. “Someone’s in a murderous mood today,” she wheezed out between giggles. “I also thought you were here to help me pack.”
Mor picked up the grey top from the ground and judged it with a critical eye. “Of course, I’m here to help, I am practically your fashion coach.”
“Excuse me, I am the one taking a degree in fashion art so I can be the visual designer for major fashion companies-“
“Ah ah, I don’t care because you still can’t dress yourself. Take my advice…” Mor turned her big brown eyes and pouting lips to Feyre. She merely sighed. “Alright, what’s your advice?”
“Take that black dress,”
“No.”
“…and oh that bikini.”
“No.”
“Feyre hun you would look hot in both.”
“And?”
“And maybe instead of constantly daydreaming about purple eyes or scarred hands or a booming laugh and always wishing for something more, maybe this might initiate something more and push you to tell them how you feel,” she explained in one big huff.
Feyre stared at her best friend in shock. She thought her daydreaming wasn’t that obvious. “But Mor I can’t tell them. There are three. Three for cauldron sakes. I can’t be with three males.”
“Says who? Feyre stop listening to what society tells you to do and start doing what’s right for you,” her words were full of strength but also genuine care. “I mean, if I had listened to society, I would have never shown my true self and met my amazing girlfriend.”
Feyre smiled, thinking about the blossoming relationship Mor and Emerie created. “You're right. Who gives a fuck about society. After the shit I’ve been through, I deserve to do what I want this summer.”
“Yes, Feyre! I also forgot to mention,” she started solemnly, “You look hot for yourself, no one else…but if others also think you look dashing, then that’s just an added bonus,” she said with a wink thrown towards Feyre.
“Feyre we’re leaving in the next ten minutes!” Josephine's voice floated up from downstairs.
“Looks like I have to go.”
“No you don’t, she said in ten. Now before you go, tell me your summer wish.”
Feyre felt a blush rise to her cheeks, her face felt on fire. “I don’t know.”
“Uh-huh, liar. I know who you daydream about. You want a hot make-out session with three very lucky brothers, and with that black dress, it's very much achievable.” Mor said with a knowing glint in her honey brown eyes.
“Mor is doesn’t matter what I do. Wearing that black dress or that bikini or even confessing how I feel, they won’t ever see me that way.” She felt a pit of disappointment and sorrow fill her stomach. A constant heartache that would only ever be one-sided.
“Feyre, I know you won’t believe me, but they’ll see you. Whether they want to or not. You look a lot different from when you were sixteen, three summers ago.”
*ೃ༄*:・
They’d been driving for about seven thousand years. Or at least that’s how it felt. Her mother, Josephine, drove slower than the average driver, said she always had to be cautious. Feyre sat in the passenger seat with her feet up on the dashboard while she slowly watched the scenery change just beyond the window.
She watched as the expansive wilderness slowly merged into houses of reds and blues and yellows with damaged mailboxes and sand between everything. Finally, the beach came into view and the rolling waves of the clearest blue, crashed against the cream white sand of the shore. The sound of the crashing waves was audible even from within the car.
“Go faster,” Feyre urged her mother. “Let’s pass that kid on the bike.”
“No,” she said. “And take your dirty feet off the dashboard.”
Feyre wiggled her toes back and forth, showing off the newly painted pretty blue nail polish. “They look pretty clean to me.”
Her mother chuckled and continued to drive at the same pace.
Eventually, Feyre got bored of staring out the window and began to fiddle with the radio. One of her favourite things about the drive to Velaris was the radio station. She loved the radio from the beach and felt it always enhanced her experience.
She flicked around the channels until she got to the night court. The night court was her favourite station and had everything music could offer. One of her favourite songs by Coldplay began playing. Feyre immediately began belting out the lyrics. “Cause you’re a sky, 'cause you’re a sky full of stars; I’m gonna give you my heart.”
Her mother caught on and began singing along. “I don’t care, go on and tear me apart. I don’t care if you do, oh…” They both were beaming and started laughing. “You’re such a heavenly view.” The song ended and their smiles faded but their happiness lived on.
Feyre’s mother never knew why she loved that song so much. Feyre never told anyone why. It reminded her of a certain few. Only when the sun had died and darkness began anew, did she allow those thoughts to invade her mind. How she wished for something that was impossible. She found the song truly resonated with how she felt on the inside and absolutely no one would ever know. No one except… Feyre cut her own thoughts off, no longer allowing herself to continue digging her own grave.
Noticing her sombre mood, Feyre’s mother asked, “Are you thinking about Azriel?”
“What?”
“Do you still like Azriel? I mean I always thought you and Rhys would end up together, or even Cassian from the looks of last summer.”
Feyre’s cheeks flamed. “First, I never said I liked Az-“
“But I heard Mor talking about you and-“
“And second, I don’t like Rhys or Cas either. I mean, not like how you were implying. Four people can be good friends without anything going on. I like them as best friends, that's all. Please never bring that up again.”
Josephine sighed. “Alright,” she replied, not at all convinced. Telling her mother anything would only give her reason to interrogate Feyre, and there was nothing to tell. There had never been anything to tell and there never would be.
Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand were Rhiannon’s boys or Ria as Feyre’s mother called her. Rhiannon Asra, the wife of Gareth Asra, had one biological child, her son Rhysand. When Rhys was about four, she adopted two boys, Cas and Az. Rhiannon told Feyre that when she adopted the two new boys, she knew Feyre would be destined for one of the three. She said it was fate. Rhiannon gave Feyre her unequivocal blessing as she said she’d hate to lose her boys to anyone else.
Josephine, who didn’t normally believe in anything related to fate as she claimed things just happened, said it would be perfect as long as her daughter had a few lovers before she settled. Feyre cringed as she thought of the phrase her mother used, “lovers” was not a word she ever thought her mother would use directed towards her.
Feyre and her mother had been to the Asra beach house every summer since forever. Summer, for Feyre, was less about visiting Velaris itself but rather the house, which she considered to be her world.
The house had its own strip of beach, a wraparound porch, the swimming pool, many jugs of starlight tea but most of all, the boys.
Feyre always wondered what the brothers looked like in winter. Cranberry-coloured scarves and turtleneck sweaters, rosy cheeks and noses, white specks of snow in their blue-black hair. Feyre didn’t know the winter Az, Cas and Rhys. She hated to admit it but she was jealous of everyone who did. Feyre got the flip-flops, swim trunks and sand, and although that was a treat in itself, she always envied the girls who got to snuggle up to them after the snowball fights in the woods. The ones who got to experience wearing their coats because they cared enough to sacrifice their warmth for her. All the while, Feyre would sit next to the radiator in history class and wonder what they were doing, if they were also counting down the days until summer. It was unlikely, they were probably too busy to think about it. Feyre on the other hand measured her whole life in summers and didn’t feel like she was truly living until she was in that house.
Azriel was the eldest of the three. He was dark dark, a type of darkness that was completely unattainable, unavailable and unreadable and yet he was classically beautiful. He had vibrant hazel eyes that were almost golden, short blue-black hair and hands with brutal scars. He had an air of silence around him and always seemed to blend into the shadows. Feyre found herself turning to Az when in need of silence. She knew she could alway talk to him and he would just listen, no judgement.
Cassian was the second eldest. He, like Az, had hazel eyes that matched with his golden-brown skin, a scar beneath his ear and shoulder-length blue-black hair. Unlike Azriel, he had features that could be described as rough-hewn, as if he’d been made from the wind, earth and flame combined. Cassian was the one you could always turn to for some fun or even just a smile. He was always up to trouble but no matter the situation, he would always make you laugh. What most didn’t realise was although Cas looked and acted confident, he was actually a huge teddy bear on the inside.
That left Rhysand as the youngest of the bunch. Like his brothers, he was tall, had golden-brown skin and short blue-black hair; it was like a raven’s feathers. He had breathtaking eyes of the deepest blue, they were almost violet, with flecks of silver that made his eyes look like they held all the constellations of the night sky and the entire universe within. He was heartbreakingly handsome and Feyre thought he was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. He always radiated sensual grace and ease that Feyre truly believed he was born to be powerful. Although he was beautiful, he was terribly arrogant and a shameless flirt. He’s dark like Azriel and has an air of mystery, swagger and sensuality surrounding him. He dons a mask of savage beauty and deadly coldness to those he doesn’t care for but underneath the mask, he is the most generous, kind and humble person, willing to do anything to protect those he cares for.  
Unfortunately for Feyre, they all had sensational lips she often found herself staring at during the summer. Often they wore smirks and she wished to kiss them away. Or maybe not away but she wanted to control it somehow; make it yours. That's exactly what she wanted to do to the brothers, make them hers.
Feyre knew they were all very popular at school and that they had girls throwing themselves at them. She knew they each played football and that Cassian was the captain but sometimes she wished they didn’t. That would make them just Az, Cas and Rhys; quiet, caring and moody, and not football Gods or Greek sculptures or God-born flesh. Just Az, Cas and Rhys. Feyre liked that. She liked to think that if they came to her school and didn’t play football, they might notice someone like her.
*ೃ༄*:・
When the Archerons finally arrived at the house, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel were sitting on the front porch. Feyre leaned over her mother and honked the horn twice, which in their summer language meant ‘come help with the bags’.
Each of the brothers were twenty now. Rhys most recently. They were all so much taller than the last time Feyre had seen them, and were now adults which made them more devastatingly beautiful.
Cassian was the first down the stairs of the porch and gave Josephine a bear hug as she stepped out of the car. Azriel and Rhys went straight for the bags.
“Hey boys, where’s your mother?” she called out.
“Hey Josephine, she’s inside taking a nap,” Rhysand called back. Feyre’s mother walked over to Az and Rhys, hugged them both tightly then disappeared into the house.
Feyre hopped out of the car and as she rounded it, Cassian noticed her.
“Hi,” Feyre smiled and waved awkwardly.
Cassian took a second of looking Feyre up and down. “Look who came back all grown up!” He then hugged Feyre, lifting her in the air and spinning. Warmth seeped into her chest as she laughed.
“Put me down, Cas,” she said breathlessly after her giggles.
Azriel was next. He gave Feyre a less dramatic hug yet still as meaningful. Feyre tried not to focus on the toned muscle she felt beneath his shirt. She pulled back and beamed at Azriel. “It's nice to see you too.” He chuckled, a hint of a smirk showing.
Feyre quickly glanced away and was caught in glowing violet orbs. Her breath caught as she took him in. He was as beautiful as ever. He seemed to be taking her in as well. He really looked at her, did a double-take before he began walking toward her. Feyre removed herself from Azriel’s embrace and raced towards Rhys. She launched at him and he caught her, laughing in her hair. “Hello, Feyre darling,” he whispered into her brown curls. He used the nickname given to her when she was young. It all started one summer when they were young. Feyre called Rhys a princess because he ate his food like he was royalty. He then turned around and began acting like the royal he was said to be. He used many words of endearment but darling got the most significant reaction from her and therefore he stuck with the name. The name used to bug her but now it makes her feel special knowing no one else has the same name.
Out of the brothers, Feyre was closest with Rhys, and although she had the biggest crush on him, she missed him as her best friend.
“Cauldron, it’s been so long. Three years now,” Feyre stated as she detached herself from his arms.
“Yeah…” Cassian led.
“Wow, you guys have changed so much. You’re all so tall, I think I might break my neck just having to look up at you,” Feyre started, trying to dispel the awkward tension.
“I think I’ll get a neck cramp from having to look down at you all the time, shortass,” Cas said in his usual dramatic flare. Feyre rolled her eyes.
“You look different too,” Azriel said.
“Maybe because I’m older?”
He smiled. A soft sort of smile. “It's not that. You just look different.”
“While you guys continue to chit-chat, I have an announcement,” Cassian began.
“What announcement,” Feyre asked nervously, having a slight clue to what it might be.
“Well I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time for some flying lessons.” All three of them turned their gorgeous eyes upon Feyre, devilish grins appearing. She slowly backed up.
“No way.”
“Feyre darling, you can’t fight tradition,” Rhys smirked at her, ready to pounce.
Feyre turned and bolted, heading towards the back fence.
“Shit she’s fast,” Cassian said just as he caught her and she squealed.
“No, no, please!” She laughed as Rhys and Az picked up her feet while Cas held her arms. They carried Feyre to the pool as she begged for mercy. “Please.”
“Ready?” Rhys asked.
“No, please, let go.”
“Alright,” he replied and she realised her mistake. They began swinging her back and forth.
“One,” Rhys began.
“Two,” Azriel said.
“Three,” Cassian finished.
As they let go and Feyre flew through the air, they simultaneously yelled, “Fly like a fairy!”
Chapter 2
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msfeyredarling · 2 years
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a little sneak peak at chapter 1 of the summer I rocked up pretty (or TSIRUP because I can't be bother to write the whole title lol)
Feyre couldn’t help it, she laughed. Deep belly laughs. “Someone’s in a murderous mood today,” she wheezed out between giggles.
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msfeyredarling · 2 years
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Prologue
Feyre’s family has been going to the Asra’s beach house in Velaris every summer since she was a baby. Since before she was even born. All year long, Feyre would stare at her calendar, counting down the days until she was in that house. That place. Her salvation.
The dads would come along to cook on the barbecue. The mothers would come along to watch the sunset. But ultimately it wasn’t their place. It belonged to the kids.
Three brothers and a girl.
Four best friends.
Four then teens now adults.
Feyre hadn’t been to the house since she was sixteen and now she was close to turning nineteen.
Two years ago, Josephine and Henry, Feyre’s mother and father had a terrible fight, ending with a hole in the wall and a shattered vase. Feyre’s mother kicked Henry out, only for him to come back begging and apologising the next morning. She shut the door in his face, saying it was over and promptly filed for divorce. Just before Feyre’s seventeenth birthday, the divorce was approved and her parents were officially separated. They didn’t make it to the beach house that year. Nor the next.
It wasn’t until Feyre begged her mother and she finally agreed it would be good to get out of the house. Feyre knew the reasons for her mother's reclusive behaviour, especially regarding the Asra’s house, but she didn’t push.
Approaching nineteen and three years later, she would finally see her three best friends again; just like every summer before her sixteenth birthday. Tradition once again.
Chapter 1
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