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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

Note

Can I request something where Azriel has to pick up Nyx from school one day and thinks his teacher is cute & is very flirty with her?

Yes! Love this idea so much!

When I Kissed The Teacher

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Feyre loves Nyx's teacher but loves playing matchmaker even more. After sending Azriel to collect Nyx from school one day after feigning a studio related emergency, she's very happy to learn that Azriel's affections are completely in the palm of your hand.

Warnings - none really, just cuteness all round

Feyre had always been worried about sending Nyx off to school, even though she believed Rhys when he told her that the schools of Velaris were the best in Prythian, she couldn't help but feel anxious that he wouldn't thrive.

Then she met you, and all of her worries faded away.

You were everything Feyre wanted in a teacher for her child, it had taken a lot of weight throwing to get him into your class, it was full to the brim of children from higher born families, only wanting the best for their offspring. Feyre wasn't even surprised.

It was clear how much you cared about your children, in nurturing them into intelligently creative creatures. Other teachers focused solely on the academics, but you had a passion for the arts, you said creativity helped children to find their passions and grow into more compassionate and joyful souls.

Nyx had run into her arms when she had come to collect him that first day, babbling on about what a wonderful time he had with you. Miss Y/L/N. Feyre had never seen such wonderment in his eyes when he told her in that broken infant language how great you were. Everyone's worries about Nyx becoming a shell had vanished.

The little thing had returned home with paintings, reciting poetry from your favourite passages; he had the desire to read, making different voices for the different characters like he had learned from you. Nyx was well and truly flourishing.

Feyre had insisted that you walk home with them one afternoon, since you only lived five minutes from the River House and it was on your route home anyway. From that walk, Feyre had learned much about you, that you were from Spring but left after being disowned by your family for wanting more from life than being married away to be used as a breeding tool. After that you had travelled the continent, making many friends along the way and opening your mind to the world before settling in Hewn City, only to be brought to Velaris on Rhys' orders because he had heard of your talents and passion and wanted it taking root in the children of his city.

The more you spoke, rambling on about art and books and theatre, did Feyre come to the realisation that a certain someone would be absolutely besotted with you. When you had hugged Nyx goodbye, ruffling his hair and telling him you'd see him in the morning, did Feyre begin to hatch her plan.

Azriel wasn't one for sunshine and rainbows, but even he had to admit that Nyx's and Feyre's gushings about you had him intrigued, even Rhys had commented on how sweet you were, seemingly very fond of how Nyx was excelling under your wing.

"Az, would you mind grabbing Nyx today? I have to head to the studio, delivery emergency," Feyre floated past him toward the door, a thin cloak fitted around her shoulders to protect her from the afternoon summer breeze that drifted along the Sidra.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," he waved Feyre from the house as she dashed down the path shouting over her shoulder what time to be at the school for.

The sun was beginning to dip in the sky but warmth still flew through Velaris, Azriel walked along the winding paths and up the hill to the school, the skittering sound of children's laughter filling his ears as he approached. Parents parted as he walked down the cobbled stone path, not wanting to graze against his wings with slight unease in their eyes. Azriel was used to it by now, the looks of disapproval, the slight fear in the people he passed.

The bell rang and birds shot to perch on the branches of the trees that surrounded the plush gardens teeming with bright flowers and wildlife. Children began to file out from the open door, grabbing their bags and running to their parents with wide smiles, excited to tell them what you had taught them that day.

Azriel spied the inside wall littered will paintings and cards, all addressed to you, as well as a wooden table filled with the gifts the children had no doubt made their parents purchase for you.

Then he saw you, and the Shadowsinger audibly gasped. There you were, dressed in a loose white blouse with stringed corset, an earthy brown skirt that fell to the floor covered in colourful handprints that reached your thighs, your hair was unbound and baby hairs whispered along the sides of your face.

You were sunshine. You were radiant.

Nyx's hand was curled in your own as you led him out of the classroom and Azriel could have sworn he'd never seen a brighter look on anyone's face as the little man searched the crowd, "Uncle, Az!"

Your gaze had also fallen on him and you drank in his smile as Nyx left your grip and hurtled to the Shadowsinger, his grin was large, showing off all of his teeth as he bent down and wrapped Nyx in his toned arms, laughing loudly and asking about his day before standing up.

"I don't think we've ever formally met," you held your free hand out, your other carrying Nyx's bag, "I'm Y/N, well, Miss Y/L/N."

You were as soft as summer rain, adoration in your orbs, and you radiated purity and grace. Azriel glanced at your outstretched hand, sliding his own into it and feeling a force of gravity will him closer to you, "So you're the one that has Nyx ready for school at the crack of dawn," he felt relief when you didn't recoil at his hand in yours, the hands that usually made people grimace, "Azriel," you giggled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your pointed ear.

High Fae.

"Guilty as charged," your voice was like butter, smooth and rich, the perfect balance of femineity.

"Can't say I blame him," he smirked at the heat that rose to his cheeks, at the sheepish smile that tugged at your lips.

"That's very nice of you to say," one of your students walked past you, waving goodbye, and Azriel watched you bend down and fix her jacket to her body, telling her to have a lovely weekend in the sun, "Nyx has had a lovely day today. He just keeps on flourishing, it's remarkable," you had told him once you had risen again.

"I'm sure anyone could flourish with you around. Must be the Y/N effect," he cocked his head to the side at your giggle, just happy to be able to examine the woman who had Nyx all excited every morning. Feyre and Rhys were right, you were remarkable. Like a rainbow rippling in a storm.

"Must be it," the birds jumped from branch to branch around you, like they wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as possible, flitting to the bird houses you had erected by the pond of ducks and in the trees.

"Would you like to walk home with us? Feyre mentioned that you didn't live too far from the house?"

Your mouth fell into the perfect o shape, "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose-"

"You're not," Azriel smiled, looking down at Nyx, shaking his little hand and asking, "Is she, Nyx? Would you like Miss Y/L/N to walk home with us?"

"Yes!" Nyx shouted and you laughed, a laugh that made the edges of your eyes crinkle, you disappeared into the building, returning a few moments later with you satchel, locking the door and taking Nyx's free hand in your own after handing his bag to Azriel.

Azriel was positive that he'd never seen Nyx shine so brightly.

The walk home was full of light chatter, you made Azriel laugh more times than you could count, and Nyx was pointing out random things along the way, looking up at you for approval and tapping his feet on the ground when you nodded and smiled.

From the house, Feyre watched through the curtains as Nyx ran up the path, and kept watching as Azriel lingered behind, she wished she could hear what he was saying to you. But as you smiled, and blushed, and then nodded at the Shadowsinger who was kicking his feet like a schoolboy, she knew it was going well.

Strong arms wrapped around her midsection and her back hit a hard chest, his deep chuckle vibrated through him and his warm breath fanned against her ear, "Playing matchmaker again, darling?"

Feyre hummed with a gentle smile, accepting the peppering kisses over her shoulder as she watched you walk away, looking back at Azriel and waving before turning the corner, "I think this is my best one yet," she told Rhys, noticing the pursed smile on Azriel's lips and the faint pink tinge to his complexion as he followed Nyx up the path.

"I'm inclined to agree."

SO CUTE!

Thank you for the request! x

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whisplion · 1 year

Text

Cloaked Hearts

Feysand x Court of Nightmares Reader

“I’ve dreamt for so long of what the warmth of the sun would feel like.”

“You know nothing High Lord of what it is we endure in that prison you forbade us from leaving.”

“You speak of equality for all of Prythian but we are not considered into that equation.”

“I love you more than I care to admit to you or myself.”

#just a little aesthetic for thoughts I have about this au #i have ideas for a few oneshots here and there but not a full-blown fic #it’s very political #mc has many layers and beef with our high lord and lady #poly! feysand #feysand x reader #acotar x reader #poly! feysand x reader #feyre archeron x reader #rhysand x reader #feysand x con! reader

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theladyofdeath · 1 year

Note

Hi, maybe I have a prompt for you.

Rhys helps Nyx to get to bed and when Feyre checks on both of them and asks if he is already asleep Nyx lifts his head and says "Yes, sound asleep".

(Story freely invented 🙃)

A/N: To tell you that I love this prompt is an understatement. Please enjoy the fluff!

"Don't wanna go to bed." Nyx sat on the couch with his little arms crossed and his brows drawn low. His frown was fully set, but it didn't stop Rhysand from walking to his son and tossing him over his shoulder, effortlessly.

Feyre chuckled. "It's late, buddy. Me and daddy are going to bed, too."

Rhysand shot her a suggestive look, complete with a brow wiggle and a wink.

"Not tired," Nyx said with a sigh, lying over Rhysand's shoulder like a dead weight. "Hungry."

"You're not hungry," Feyre reassured him. Even though he was a growing toddler, he'd eaten seconds and thirds at dinner, and had an after-bath snack of strawberries, cheese, crackers, and sausage.

"I'm starving!" Nyx protested, but Rhysand was already walking him up the stairs.

"I'll come in a minute after you brush your teeth to tell you goodnight," Feyre promised, as she picked up Nyx's plate up off the coffee table and carried it into the kitchen to wash. Once it was sparkling clean, Feyre made her way upstairs and peeked into Nyx's room.

Rhysand was buttoning up the top of Nyx's pajamas. Nyx still had a frown on his face, but he resigned, accepting his fate. After a hug and a kiss and countless I love you's, Feyre was walking back out of the bedroom, cracking the door closed.

It was just after eight, which meant that she could at least get one more full load of laundry done before she was too tired to do anymore. After grabbing a sorted basket from the master bedroom, Feyre was walking back downstairs to the laundry room, where she moved what was in the washer to the dryer, what was in the dryer to a laundry basket, and what was dirty into the washing machine. She was the only one that did the laundry, after Rhys had turned an entire load of whites to pink with a sneaky red sock. He's claimed that he's learned since then, but one of Feyre's favorite t-shrits had been in that load and she had never forgotten.

After the newly cleaned clothes were folded, Feyre was walking back upstairs to put them away. When she passed by Nyx's room, she could hear Rhysand's voice, low and gentle, reading Goodnight Moon. She waited outside the door for just a minute, listening to his voice, letting it calm her.

From the second that Feyre found out she was pregnant, Rhysand had been an amazing father. He was made for fatherhood.

Feyre carried the laundry basket to the master bedroom and put everything away before stripping off her leggings and sweater, and putting on a nightgown. After cleaning her face and brushing her hair, she was making her way back down the hall.

As she stood outside of Nyx's room, it was silent. She gave it a minute, just to be sure, before pushing open the door. "Is he asleep?" she whispered into the dark.

But then Nyx's head popped up, and with a grin, he said, "Yes, sound asleep."

Unable to help herself, Feyre huffed a laugh and stepped inside. As she approached the little twin bed, she witnessed quite the display. Both boys were under the heap of blankets, but it was Rhysand whose head was against the pillow, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open.

"Daddy was sleepy, mama," Nyx whispered. "Shhh. Don't wake him up."

"I see that," Feyre whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed, "but he was supposed to be putting you to sleep, goofball."

Nyx shrugged. "He finished the story and I started patting his back. Then he started snoring."

"Mhmm." Feyre chuckled and leaned over Nyx to brush Rhysand's hair back. "I guess daddy's sharing your bed tonight. Come on. Lay down."

Without a fight, Nyx started getting comfortable, only to stop to kiss Rhysand's forehead. "Night night, daddy."

She swore Rhys smiled in his sleep.

Once Nyx was comfortable, Feyre laid down beside him, barely able to fit on the little bed with all three of them. She patted Nyx's back and sang him a quiet lullaby until he, too, fell asleep.

Not wanting to go to bed alone, Feyre stayed, admiring her two boys, the spitting image of one another, until she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

#feysand #nyx #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #drabble #dabble #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #feyre x rhysand #rhysand x feyre #parenthood fic #sjm fanfiction #fluff #tara answers prompts

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starfall-spirit · 10 months

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Nyx is such a helpful boy

There they were, right where she guessed they’d be, her wonderful mate and four-year-old sprawled out on a sheet of plastic, various brushes scattered around them. “Tomorrow we do Mama’s.”

“Alright, little star. We’ll ask tomorrow.”

“Do you think she’ll like it?” Nyx asked, brow scrunched as he sloppily dragged his paintbrush across Rhys’ tattooed forearm.

“I know she will,” he promised, raising his eyes to where she stood in the doorway. “Won’t you, darling?”

Nyx sprung to his feet, green paint splattering against Rhys’ shirt as their son flung to brush to the floor and scrambled to Feyre’s side. She suppressed her wince as his paint-covered hands smeared against her skirt. Nothing a little magic couldn’t fix. Hopefully. “Mama, we were painting, see?”

“I see that! You did a beautiful job on Daddy’s tattoo.”

#acotar #feysand #i know i don't need any more oneshots but it's just a little drabble for the event #it's not a multichapter so it's totally allowed #family #day 3 #snippet #i know im annoying im sorry #but i love writing kids and i wanted to share

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hellogoodbye14 · 11 months

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Uncles teaching - One Shot (Rhysand, Feyre, Nyx, Cassian, Azriel and Nesta)

Been a minute! Hope you guys enjoy this cute little one shot. Involves a mischievous Nyx that Uncle Cass and Az have to deal with. A snarky Nesta and as per usual a wholesome feysand+nyx dynamic.

I know I have been away, dealing with getting healthy again. This story bursted out of me during recovery. Hoping to get back into it just like before ❤️. Once again, thanks for being here. All the love as always xx

“Alright buddy, you’re all strapped in. You ready?”

Nyx looked up into Cassians eyes and blew bubbles at him.

He snorted, “I’ll take that as a yes”.

He patted Nyx on his tummy, “Remember, no telling mommy about this yeah? And don’t tell your da either because he can’t keep a thing from her to save his life.”

Nyx looked up at him and squealed in excitement, “da…da..daa!”

Cassian sighed, “No buddy, he’ll be back from Spring Court soon but not today.”

He shook his finger, “ what I mean is no telling da da”.

Nyx frowned, Cassian sighed.

“This is what I get for trying to distract you from your dads absence the last three days huh?”

Nyx blew bubbles again but excitedly clapped and Cassian positioned the sled at the top of the stairs.

“Alright, taking off in 3…2…”

Cassian heard footfalls behind him.

“Cassian, what are you…”, he heard Azriels yell fall in the distance as he pitched the sled forward.

Cassian let out a whoop and Nyx squealed with laughter. Each time Cassian turned the sled in the corners, Nyx would happily throw his hands up and laugh at the jerking motion.

The House of Wind had plenty of stairs and Cassian was glad to share this with Nyx.

As soon as the sled came to a stop, Cassian pushed back some strands of his hair which came loose. Nyx was clapping and yelled, “Azzy”.

Cassian looked up to find Azriel standing with his arms crossed.

“Uh-oh, Shit.”

“Sheet”, Nyx mimicked.

“No, buddy you can’t say shit.”

“Sheet”

Cassian sighed.

“Feyre is going to kill you”, said Azriel.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“Azzy, Azzzy, Azzy!”, Nyx tried getting out.

Azriel smiled at the little troublemaker and picked him up.

“Hey buddy, less moody today?”

Nyx smiled, “Da..da?”. It was clear to Azriel that Nyx was asking a question.

He sighed, “Not yet buddy, but he’ll be here soon.”

Nyx frowned again and then a bubbling sound escaped.

Cassian laughed as Azriel groaned.

“He farted on me again, I swear he does it on purpose.”

Azriel shook his head at his nephew and pulled out a candy, “Here. To cheer you up. Don’t tell your mom okay?”

Nyx’s eyes twinkled and he sucked on the lolly Azriel gave him.

Azriel and Cassian took to the skies few moments later to land at Feyre and Rhys’s estate house.

“Honey, I’m home!”, Cassian yelled out knowing Nesta was around somewhere. And yes, there she was reading a book and randomly waving her hand not looking away from the book.

“I feel so loved”, he sighed dramatically.

“Don’t distract me, the enemies finally kissed so we’re turning to the lovers bit now.”

Cassian frowned, “Is this another one of those tropes?”

“It’s the enemies to lovers trope, you idiot”, said Azriel.

Cassian slowly turned towards his brother in arms, even Nesta kept her book down, arching a brow.

A bit of pink appeared on his cheeks as he cuddled Nyx closer.

“Umm, Gwyn mentioned something about it.”

Feyre snickered from behind, “Interesting development, Shadowsinger. It’s cute to see you blush.”

“I don’t blush”, said Azriel as he blushed harder.

“Ma..ma..ma..”, Nyx instantly reached out to Feyre and she peppered him with kisses.

“Hi, sweetheart. Did you have fun with uncle Cassian reading some nursery rhymes?”

Azriel coughed, “Nursery rhymes?”

Cassian shoved Azriel.

“Yeah, yeah. I told Feyre I’d look after Nyx for a bit. Play some completely safe games and read him some nursery rhymes.”

“Safe games huh?”, Azriel asked.

Cassian clenched his teeth.

“Yes, safe.”

Feyre frowned at them while Nyx played with her hair.

“You guys are acting weird but I’m assuming you’re hugry. Dinners ready, thought we could have it at the backyard since the weather is pleasant.”

“I’m famished gorgeous, thank you”, said Cassian pecking a kiss on Feyres cheek.

Azriel shuffled Nyx’s hair and kissed Feyre’s forehead in thanks.

“Oh cauldron! Theres only one bed!”, yelled Nesta.

Feyre snickered, “another trope huh?”

Nesta sighed, “I love this book.”

“Any spicy scenes?”

Nesta smirked, “Yeap. Are you going to share them with Rhys again?”

Feyre blushed, “most likely.”

Nesta snickered as she kept her book away and went with Feyre to the backyard.

Everyone laughed, and joked as they had their dinner but Nyx kept looking into the distance towards the forest line close to the garden.

Feyre lifted his cheek, “You okay buddy?”

Nyx pointed to a spot, “da..da..da.”

Feyre sighed, “Sweety, I know you miss him but he won’t be back for another two days.”

Nyx shook his head and kept staring at the same spot.

“That boy misses him like hell”, said Nesta as she dug into her dessert.

Feyre nodded, “It’s been hard on Rhys too. I kept telling him it’s only four days but he said it felt like a lifetime being away. It’s been hard for him not to winnow back and forth just to see Nyx but there’s nothing that can be done.”

“Is Tamlin not being a bit too paranoid? Like he made an enchantress use wyrd marks to make sure no one could winnow.”

Azriel shrugged, “Lucien said he doesn’t trust anyone, not even people in his own court. He’s taking extra precautions as peace talks happen.”

Nesta picked her nails, “Tarquin and Helion went too, surely it’ll be all civil.”

Cassian snorted, “Tarquin is diplomatic, Helion is… not.”

Nyx suddenly jumped in Feyre’s lap, pointing to the same spot again.

“Da….da..da!”, he yelled excitedly.

Feyre turned to look but the spot was still empty.

She frowned but just as she was about to comfort her son, a cloud of black smoke erupted in the same spot Nyx kept pointing at.

As the smoke cleared, she saw Rhys standing there with a smile on his face.

Her heart soared and she wanted to leap at him. She would have done just that had she not felt a moment of instant panic when the weight of her son disappeared from her arms.

She frowned at the empty spot and looked around, Rhys’s eye widened too that was until Nyx winnowed himself right into Rhys’s arms.

Rhys caught him with an oomph.

“Da..da..da”, Nyx laughed as Rhys hugged him close.

“Ah, you’ve grown way too much already bud. Let me look at you.”

Rhys held Nyx away from him and smiled, his eyes bright. He threw Nyx up high and caught him as Nyx squealed.

“He can winnow?”, Cassian exclaimed.

“Apparently he can”, Feyre sighed. Great, just what she needed. A toddler who could winnow.

Nyx was babbling gibberish as if telling Rhys all about his day. Rhys smiled and nodded as if he understood everything.

He pecked Nyx on the nose.

“Alright, tell me the rest later. I need to kiss your mom.”

Nyx blew bubbles at him and Feyre laughed as she got up to meet Rhys.

“Honey, I’m home.”

She hugged him close with Nyx secure between them. Palming the side of his face and kissing him.

She rested her forehead against his and rubbed her thumb on his cheek.

“Missed you”, she smiled up at him.

“Missed you more.”

Cassian looked at his mate and pointed at the couple, “See! That. That is what I’m talking about.”

His mate just flipped him the finger.

Everyone settled down at their seats, Nyx stayed in his fathers arms and rested his head on Rhys’s shoulder.

“So what did you guys get up to?”, asked Rhys after briefing everyone on the meeting at Spring.

“Apparently, Cassian read Nyx some nursery rhymes”, Azriel snickered.

Rhys smiled, “which one?”

Cassian glared at Azriel, “Oh, umm you know the popular one.”

Azriel smiled into his glass and said, “yeah? Sing it for us. Maybe Nyx will join in since he learned it today.”

Everyone stared at him waiting.

He coughed, “Ba Ba Brown sheep”

Azriel interrupted, “Black.”

Cassian continued, “Have you any pull.”

“Wool.”

“Yes sir, Yes sir, six bags full.”

“Three bags”

“One for my muppet”

“Master”

“ and one for the fame”

“Dame”

“And one for the little girl who lived down the lane.”

“Little boy”

Cassian glared at Azriel, “What are you? The Nursery rhyme police?!”

Everyone laughed at the back and forth. Nyx looked at Azriel and let out a hand.

“Canyy cand”.

Azriel froze.

“What is that sweety?”, Feyre asked.

Cassian smirked, “oh are you asking for candy Nyx? Huh.. interesting. Why is he asking you for Candy Az?”

“Umm, I don’t know.”

Nyx smiled, asking again.

Rhys sighed, “You gave him candy before dinner didn’t you?”

“Azriel”, Feyre sighed.

“No wonder he’s been so hyper all day!”

Azriel offered a meek look, well as meek as he could.

“Look, he was sad okay? And I wanted to cheer him up. It was just a couple.”

“How much is a couple?”, asked Nesta.

“Two… okay no that’s a lie.. three.”

Feyre glared.

“Okay fine, it was five! But you know what? At least I didn’t take him sledding down the house of wind stairs, Cass did!”

Feyre gasped.

Rhys let out a slow whistle, “She’s going to kill you.”

“Cass, do you not have self preservation?”, asked Nesta.

“YOU TOOK MY TODDLER CHILD DOWN THOSE STAIRS.”

Cassian slowly backed away, “It was completely safe! I had him packed up and he enjoyed it so much. I even have a picture.”

Feyre’s nostrils flared.

“Uh-oh”, Cassian let out a nervous laugh.

Nyx learning that new word just today of course said, “Sheet”.

Feyre’s eyes widened.

“Sweety, who taught you that word.”

Cassian was already getting off his ass when his traitorous nephew pointed a finger at him.

“Yeah, you run bat boy. You run.”

Soon a pair of water wolves were chasing down Cassian around the estate.

“Feyre stop, I SAID I WAS SORRY.”

“Sorry ain’t good enough!”

“Rhys, Ness, MAKE HER STOP.”

Nesta smiled, “Oh, but I’m enjoying this too much ‘honey’”

“CAULDRON, when did she give them wings?!”

Rhys smiled as a sleepy Nyx cuddled into his arms, “It’s good to be back home.”

Taglist: @meher-sumedha

@sv0430

@highladysith

@imakeangelscry

@whoreforgwynriel

@booksandlibrarys

@cretaceous-therapod

@story-scribbler

@kneelingsince2012

@whenyadoesntcutit

@allthebooksunderthemoon

@argumtumstella

#acomaf #acotar #acosf #acowar #feyre #rhysand #feysand #azriel #cassian #nesta #nessian #nyx #oneshot

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folklorianhaze · 1 year

Text

elevator buttons & evening air

Pairing: Feyre x Rhysand (Feysand)

Rating: T

Tags: One Shot, Alternate Universe — Modern Setting, Rivals to Lovers, Flirting, might turn this into a longfic later, Banter, Claustrophobia, Feyre suffers from millenial ennui, Unresolved Romantic Tension

Word Count: 5291

Summary: Meet Feyre — an exhausted, overworked attorney working for Vanserra and Co. Law Offices. She wants nothing more than to prove herself, but in the past year that she's been working here, she can't help but feel underestimated and talked down to by her boss, Beron, and her coworkers.

All of them are just the worst, she thinks, but she might hate Rhysand more than any of them. Maybe it's because of the way he looks at her sometimes from across the room, like he can actually see her, like he knows exactly what she's thinking and knows that she's settling for far less than she deserves. She hates it when he gets smug like that.

So, of course, fate has them getting stuck in an elevator together as they're both trying to leave work one evening.

Well, Feyre guesses she might as well get cozy.

Read it on AO3 here!

Feyre Archeron stared at her computer monitor and tried to convince herself that her eyes weren’t, in fact, actually literally bleeding from how many times they’d scanned over the same words over the past few hours.

She blinked, as if finally remembering that such a thing was indeed a function of her body, and sighed as she leaned back in her swivel chair. Her back made several resounding popping noises that weren’t entirely unpleasant. With a grimace, she massaged a searing tightness in her left shoulder, and cursed herself for once again forgetting her posture. She slouched badly when distracted — and well, it was hard to remain exactly riveted when one had to review the same case file with a fine-toothed comb over and over again ad nauseam.

Feyre pushed her chair back farther from her desk and treated herself to a quick stretch. Still seated, leaning her back as far into the chair as she thought she could go without risking it tipping over. (Not that it had ever happened before. Of course not.) She even dared to bring her arms over her head and let the muscles in her shoulders stretch themselves out. Imagined herself as a vine reaching for a few precious rays of sunlight.

The chair creaked pathetically beneath her movements. Like most of the furniture that decorated the glorified supply closet she called her office, it was sad, cheap, and sagging. And gray. This was a very gray space, despite her feeble attempts to give the room a little color so she wouldn’t go insane in here. But when she’d accepted this position, she’d only had enough money on hand to cover purchasing a new, more professional wardrobe for herself, and had promised herself she’d make do furnishing the space they’d given her with whatever chairs and futons she’d had leftover from her law school-era apartment. Clearly, it hadn’t worked, and the result was ramshackle and stripped of identity. Anyone could occupy this space, and you’d have no idea who they were just from looking around at it.

Certainly nothing in this room, with its eggshell walls and windows too far up to let in any quantifiable amount of light, could compete with the shiny baubles and fucking velvet chaises decorating her boss, Beron Vanserra’s office. But seeing as he’d owned this firm for twenty years now, Feyre supposed that was to be expected. He’d had time and experience (and certainly, he’d had wealth well before even becoming a lawyer) that had helped him arrive at such a level of comfort.

She’d only been with Vanserra & Co. for about a year now — a shorter time than anyone else here, still the newbie so far. But in that time, she’d only scarcely seen Beron emerge from behind the doors to his office, although she saw various suit-wearing types popping in and out regularly during the weeks for scheduled meetings. Or evil scheming, or whatever it was they all did in there.

Enigmatic figure that he was, it seemed like everyone in the firm was constantly feuding for Beron’s attention. A few months ago, when he’d wanted a younger, fresher face to help handle a particularly time-consuming pharmaceutical company merger, it had been practically a bloodbath. Feyre couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. You would’ve thought he was standing in front of a chocolate factory, waving around a fucking Golden Ticket, she thought, shaking her head. Though it wouldn’t be entirely truthful if she said she hadn’t been interested in the opportunity, too.

Of course, none of them had been surprised when that had gone to Rhysand. He was one of the best younger hires here, even if it physically pained Feyre to admit it.

Didn’t stop him from being a dickhead, though.

Her fingers curled into fists in her lap as her memories traveled inexorably to just a few months ago, to the office holiday party. The glitter of Christmas lights in the background, Frank Sinatra crooning over the speakers, and the look in Rhysand’s eyes as he’d sauntered up to her. She tried not to think of the conversation they’d had that night too often. Tried even harder to ignore the sudden dryness in her throat whenever she remembered what he’d looked like from up close, the way his violet stare had pinned her to the spot.

The way he always seemed to see her. Not through her, but directly into her, as if all her secret vulnerabilities and passions and thoughts were splayed out on an open table for him to observe. But there was never any eagerness in that steady gaze, no — just a curiosity, as if he were patient and content enough to study all of her from afar. As if that were all it would take to parse out the truth of her, because perhaps he already understood it.

She hated him a little bit for that.

Feyre pushed herself out of her seat, needing to banish thoughts of Rhysand as quickly as they’d settled onto her. She hated giving him that power, making him someone that could reduce her to a pacing, fretting thing. She told herself instead that she just needed to stand after hunching over her computer for so long — and anyway, as she glanced at the clock, she realized that it was just about time for her to wrap up here and head home.

So, as luck would have it, standing was necessary and not at all a byproduct of being hung-up and moony over her obnoxious coworker.

She snatched her coat from where she’d draped it over the futon on her way in this morning — she should probably get a coat rack, would it be more professional to have a coat rack? Pulling it on and gathering her things, she headed for the door and gave the room a final cursory glance. Computer turned off, notes all tucked away and ready to last the weekend in this dark little hole of an office. It was as good as it was ever going to get. Satisfied, Feyre nodded to herself and headed out for the evening, locking the door behind her on the way.

The building was quiet this evening, the assorted desks and sofas and squat little modern chairs casting tall, thin shadows along the walls. Now that she’d stepped out into the common area (which actually had windows, she thought bitterly) she could see it was nearly full dark outside.

Fuck. Had she really stayed so late? She was lucky the cleaning crew hadn’t locked her in.

Huffing an exasperated sigh, she headed for the elevators, trying her best not to think about how spectacularly creepy this place looked at night. Like a ghost town, or something out of a post-apocalyptic movie. As she reached the elevator doors, she slammed the button, and told herself she wasn’t being frantic, just efficient. She hugged her coat closer to her body and bounced restlessly on the balls of her feet. It seemed chillier in here with all the people gone.

She hardly even noticed anyone was behind her until she heard a familiar voice drawl, “Funny seeing you here, Archeron.”

Well, you know what they say, Feyre, she thought to herself. Speak of the devil . . .

Stomach fluttering, Feyre slowly turned around and came face-to-face with the very man she’d hoped to avoid all day. In all his smirking, arrogant glory.

“Hello, Rhysand,” she sighed, fixing him with a saccharine smile so tight that her teeth ground together. “You do realize I work here too, right?”

He returned her smile with one of his own, something like wicked amusement dancing in his eyes. “And how am I supposed to forget that? I think you’ll find someone as charming as yourself tends to be remembered, whether you want to or not.” Somehow, he made it sound as if it were both a compliment and insult in the same breath.

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks for that, I guess,” she snorted.

“An actual thank you from Feyre Archeron? Oh, day of days!”

She barely managed to reign in an eye-roll at the sarcasm dripping from his voice. Still, something lightly teasing in his words tugged at the corners of her lips, made her tempted to crack the barest traces of an amused smirk. She fought it, stifled the instinct to laugh, and instead folded her arms protectively across her chest. He spoke to her like he knew her, like . . . like they were actually friends.

Was that what they were? After that night at the holiday party, were they anything at all anymore? Or were things between them forever destined to just hover in this strange, uncomfortable stagnation, both of them tiptoeing around it?

Feyre cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the elevator. Of course, it had to choose tonight, of all nights, to be so damn slow. When she returned her gaze to Rhysand, though, his expression had relaxed into careful neutrality — as if he were indeed simply waiting for the elevator, just like her, and didn’t intend to cause her any further trouble. In his hands he clutched a sleek black briefcase — which matched his equally-sleek black suit. His raven-feather hair gleamed oily blue-black in the low light.

“Working on something important tonight?” he said at last, making small talk when the silence had drawn on just long enough to edge into discomfort.

Feyre blinked, bemused by the question, then realized. “Oh — oh, no, not really. I mean, yes, I guess it is, but not . . . I don’t know, not important enough for me to have spent this much time on it. I don’t know why I stayed so late tonight. I don’t usually fall into my work like that.”

“You’re meticulous,” he said, and she couldn’t quite determine if it was a simple observation or if he’d intended to flatter her with it. “When you really care about something, that is. You hold yourself to high standards.”

Enough heat rushed to her cheeks that Feyre ducked her head slightly, hoping the curtain of her auburn hair would block him from seeing how deeply his words had resonated. Even if he’d just meant it as a passing detail he’d noticed, it had hit with more certainty than he knew. They’d worked on a few cases together in the past, but she hadn’t really thought he’d even paid attention to anything like that.

At last, the elevator gave a feeble ding to announce its arrival. The doors slid lethargically open, and Feyre tried to ignore their metal whining as she stepped in. Only four floors, and then she’d be out again. She’d always hated elevators, but especially this thing — though the rest of the office was fairly nice and new, this elevator was old and unreliable and finicky. Hopefully the trip to the lobby wouldn’t take as long as it had taken for it to get up here in the first place.

Rhysand trailed in after her, and the doors closed behind his back. Inside the elevator, the lighting was a sallow yellow, a single flickering bulb over their heads. The floors beneath them were fraying carpet, and the walls were plastered with posters advertising all the varied and oh-so-exciting things one could pursue legal action for. Beron Vanserra’s grinning face leered at her from one of them. She tried not to make eye contact with it for too long.

“What about you?” Feyre finally asked. “Were you working on anything, er—” she made a vague gesture with her hand, “—special?”

Rhysand gave a snort of derision.

“You could say that,” he said. “Although I suspect it serves Beron’s interests more than my own.”

Feyre shrugged, but didn’t bother asking him to elaborate. After all, no one in the office was at all surprised whenever Rhysand got handed these flashy, fancy assignments. In comparison, she supposed her menial work was embarrassing, juvenile. She tried not to bristle at the thought.

Before either of them could say anything else, the elevator gave a shudder beneath their feet. Groaned in protest like some slumbering beast that had woken up to discover them resting in its mouth. There was a piercing clanking noise, the squeal of metal on cables — above them, the light flickered on and off so quickly that it was nearly dizzying — Feyre’s hand shot out to the nearest wall to keep herself steady —

— and with a thud, the elevator came to a grinding halt in the middle of its track, before it could reach the ground floor.

“Shit,” Rhysand cursed colorfully, his voice right by Feyre’s ear, holding her steady as if he’d —

— he’d reached out to keep her from falling or injuring herself.

Feyre opened her mouth, nearly too stunned to speak, but before any words could tumble out, the light overhead flickered one last time.

And then went out entirely.

Their breaths rasped noisily in the heavy darkness, both of them holding as still as possible in case the slightest movement sent them careening out of control again. Rhysand’s hand still pressed against the curve of her waist, holding her steady in the dark. She found herself only dimly aware of the heat of his touch. But at that moment, it wasn’t an entirely unwelcome sensation. In fact, Feyre felt rather grateful someone else was here with her.

Grateful that she wasn’t alone, because . . .

“Oh my god,” she finally breathed, her voice a thin wobble. “Oh my god, we’re stuck in here.”

How had she never noticed what a tight space this was before? And now that it was so dark that she could barely even tell if her eyes were open, now that it was difficult to even see her hands in front of her face . . . her chest tightened, hands shaking at her sides.

“Take a deep breath,” Rhysand told her, his voice carefully smooth, as if he were doing his best to hold back his own worries for her sake. “It’s going to be alright. Hang on just a second, okay, Feyre?”

Feyre nodded, too consumed with the cold creep of anxiety in the pit of her stomach to bother with quipping back at him about whether or not he had the right to boss her around. And slowly, purposefully, she did as he said, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. As she exhaled on a shudder, she found herself still sick with needle-sharp worry, but the sensation had dulled somewhat. As if she could hold it at bay for just a little longer.

She heard rather than saw Rhys fumble in the darkness. Then, in the next instant, a square of light blossomed between them, bathing the elevator car in the white-blue shine of the flashlight on his cell phone. The light cast his features into stark relief, his eyes flashing at her across the distance.

“At least now we can see,” he murmured. “Hold tight. I’m going to try and get the emergency button working, see if we can call anybody with that. I don’t think my phone has enough bars in here on its own.”

Feyre nodded shakily, raking her fingers through her hair. “Fuck,” she exhaled under her breath. Then again, a bit louder: “Fuck! I can’t believe this fucking happened to me!”

From over where he stood fiddling with the elevator buttons, Rhys gave a low chuckle. “Quite a mouth on you,” he said, as if he found this endlessly amusing. “Are you sure that’s workplace appropriate?”

Feyre muttered something darkly under her breath in response that she hoped Rhysand couldn’t hear — something about “working this foot up your ass” that she was sure he wouldn’t appreciate.

Or maybe he would, given how exceedingly funny he’d seemed to find her cursing.

Whatever Rhys did seemed to work, and the elevator filled with the staticky, distinctly pathetic sound of the emergency button dialing rescue services for them. She willed herself to feel at least a little relief to take the edge off those razor-sharp nerves. At least now there would be people who knew they were here, who were coming to get them.

When someone answered on the other end of the line, he explained to them smoothly, calmly, what had happened. Perhaps Feyre would have felt compelled to interject on her own, but she was still too shaken — too focused on keeping her lunch from earlier down in her stomach where it belonged. On any other occasion, she might have bristled at the idea of letting Rhysand take the reins, but in this case, she didn’t mind relinquishing responsibility. Especially since it was just now starting to feel as if she could breathe normally again.

Of course this would happen with Rhysand, of all people, here with her. Of course he would have to see her like this, so . . . vulnerable. So afraid. Because it wouldn’t have been easier for her at all to have just been able to keep him at a distance, after all this time. No, she couldn’t have that.

“They’ll be on their way soon,” he told her, standing from where he’d crouched near the emergency button and making his way back over to her. “In the meantime . . . I suppose we might as well get comfortable, hm?”

He sighed, then looked up. And, as if noticing her face for the first time:

“Feyre,” he said. “Are you alright?”

Feyre glanced up from where she’d been pointedly studying her shoes, concentrating on anything but the way the world seemed to sway dizzily around her. Rhysand’s eyes searched her face, something she thought looked startlingly close to genuine concern furrowing his brow. She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat, gave a few stilted little nods. Tried for a wan little smile that even she could tell didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m — yes, I’m fine,�� she finally managed. “I just — ah, this is embarrassing . . . I don’t do tight spaces. It, uh, freaks me out a little.”

Something barely perceptible in his expression softened, and Feyre’s stomach twisted. Great. Now she supposed he’d pity her or something. Still, she held his gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her entirely crumble before him. Help would be on the way soon, as he’d said — she only needed to endure this for a while longer. She could manage that.

She could manage being here with him, all those words unsaid lingering much too heavily in the air between them.

“In that case,” he said, settling into a crouch, and then lowering himself fully into a sitting position on the elevator floor. “Why don’t you take a seat by me? We’ll talk about something else to pass the time. Keep your mind off of it until they get here to let us out.” He patted the empty space beside him. “Unfortunately, this is the one day I neglected to bring snacks with me to work, so . . . we’ll have to go hungry for now, but at least I’m never short on sparkling conversation.” And then he winked at her, a conspirator’s grin on his tan face.

Despite herself, a smile twitched at the edges of Feyre’s mouth, a dry laugh huffing from her almost involuntarily. “I think I have some old Tic-Tacs in the bottom of my purse,” she said. “I guess if we start starving to death in here, we’ll have those to fall back on.”

His laugh in return was surprisingly warm, a richer, freer sound than she’d expected from someone who she’d scarcely ever heard speak about anything other than work. Maybe that alone was enough to convince her — or maybe she was just frightened and desperate for anything to steer her thoughts away from this literal nightmare scenario she’d wandered into. Whatever the reason, Feyre didn’t care to think too deeply on it as she at last relented, and lowered herself onto the floor at Rhysand’s side.

“Even if we are trapped in here,” he sighed when she’d settled into place, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy for the chance to talk to you, anyway. It feels like it’s been forever since . . . since we were able to just talk.”

She didn’t miss how his eyes found hers towards the end of his sentence, nor the beat of silence that passed between them afterward that felt just a bit too significant and pointed for her to completely ignore. Feyre cleared her throat, swallowed unevenly. Anything to avoid answering, to not think about the last time they’d been so close, the way she’d thought for a moment or two that — that he might have even kissed her —

With a shiver she hoped was too small for Rhysand to see in the dark, she nodded and said, “Yeah. I’ve just been really busy. You know how it is.”

The knowing smile on his face said he didn’t buy it for a second, but he humored her. “Of course. But I don’t want to waste these precious few minutes talking shop with you, Feyre darling. Why don’t you tell me what else has been going on lately?”

“What else?” she repeated blankly.

“Sure,” said Rhys. “You must have what we like to call a life outside of that sad excuse for an office. I’d like to hear about it. Know more about what interests you outside of writing brilliant contracts and reviewing case files.”

She tried to ignore the way the subtle, casual compliment — brilliant contracts, spoken as smoothly as if it were an irrefutable fact. Tried, and failed, to ignore the way it sang all the way through her, resonating to the bone. She’d always thought that her work, her meticulous attention to detail, had gone relatively unnoticed. Why had it never occurred to her that Rhys would have kept a close eye on it — would have not only remembered, but respected, the effort she put into it all?

“Well . . .” she said with a shrug, hating the way her sentence trailed off so sadly. She might as well have had a big, blinking I HAVE NO LIFE OR FRIENDS OUTSIDE OF MY WORKPLACE sign strapped to her forehead. When was the last time she had allowed herself to be truly happy, to lift her nose from her desk and take joy in the world around her? “Um, I went to a painting class a few weeks ago.”

Maybe the answer was embarrassing and stupid, maybe something like that was nothing to be proud of at all. But it was something — more importantly, it was the last time she could remember really caring about something outside of work. The last time she’d really felt free to express the tangled mess of jumbled-up emotion in the pit of her stomach, to get it out onto a blank canvas and leave some sort of indelible mark upon the world. It was no masterpiece, but she’d created it, and that was enough.

Before landing this job — before getting into law school, really — she’d painted almost constantly. Her tiny apartment that had seen her so bravely through all the drama of undergrad had been cluttered nearly to the brim with filled-up canvases and painting supplies, vivid and bursting with color. Ideas had come to her as naturally as breathing, and back then she’d had the time and energy to devote to nurturing them as they came up.

Now, whenever she tried to reach for the part of her that wanted to paint again, it was like reaching down into an empty hole, her fingers digging up nothing but dust. And occasionally there would be a glimmer, the barest hint of inspiration, but work and the obligations of day-to-day life would stifle it. It was always later now, I’ll do it later, paint it later, but when later inevitably rolled around, she was too exhausted or distracted to devote any time to anything beyond surviving.

She missed the feeling that creating had given her. And wanted it back more than anything. But to admit that to Rhys . . . she wasn’t sure if she could yet.

“That’s good,” Rhys said, and he genuinely seemed to mean it. “I remember you mentioned it before — the painting. Making time for things like that is important when you work that hard.” He seemed to think about it for a moment, then added, “What sort of things do you like to paint?”

Feyre blinked, nonplussed. She wasn’t sure if anyone had actually asked her about that before. Most peoples’ eyes tended to start glazing over the minute she started talking about painting.

“Uh, well, I usually like to go for a more impressionistic style. I like the suggestion of something, rather than a realistic interpretation. Like . . . like whatever moment or subject I’m depicting, it isn’t there anymore, and I’m . . . I’m just painting the mark it left behind.” She gave a soft chuckle. “Sorry. That probably sounds confusing and weird and . . .” her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. “Sorry.”

“No — please, don’t apologize,” said Rhys. “I mean it. I like hearing about your process. I’m not much of an artist, myself. Creative people fascinate me in that way. My cousin Mor, she designs dresses for a living — talks my ear off about it all the time. I’m sure she’d froth at the mouth to have you as her captive audience,” he laughed.

Feyre couldn’t help it, and smiled at the idea. “She sounds great,” she said. “Especially if she really annoys you as much as it seems.”

“I’m sure she’d be thrilled to know you said that.”

“Then by all means, tell her for me.”

They fell into laughter again, the sound soft and quiet in the darkness of the elevator. Feyre found herself surprised by it — the warmth of the moment. The ease and comfort of the two of them sitting together, just talking. Perhaps she’d missed his company these past few months a bit more than she’d initially realized.

And from there, it was as if they’d never had a disagreement before at all. Talking was so easy — so natural — that they fell into conversation without any struggle whatsoever. Just chatting about whatever happened to come to mind: work drama they’d both witnessed from the sidelines, cringe-inducing jokes they’d overheard in the break room, even down to the new television shows they’d been watching. It was pleasant, maybe even something close to fun, though she wasn’t sure if she’d admit that.

Somehow, it seemed as if she’d known Rhysand for much longer than a year; and even so, she got the sense that there was more to learn. And, in spite of herself, she wanted to know it all. Wanted to take the time to find it all out.

Eventually, their conversation slowed to a natural, comfortable silence. Still, as their laughter died out, something about the air between them became charged. Somehow, she sensed without even asking that his thoughts had traveled to a similar place to her own — and she wasn’t entirely sure if that frightened her or not. Perhaps a small, hidden part of her wanted to know that Rhysand had missed her, delighted in the fact that he, too, seemed to be wondering whether or not this tiptoeing around what they both refused to talk about was worth it. It comforted her, on some strange level, to imagine that the words she so desperately wanted to say were just on the tip of his tongue, too.

It was Rhysand who broke the silence, as if that pressing quiet was too much for him to stand. “I just want you to take care of yourself, Feyre,” he murmured, as if it were some secret confession. “I know I might not always have given you reason to believe that—” here he huffed a laugh, full of irony, “—but it’s true. I just . . . hm. Let’s just say this place would be much too boring without you.”

Feyre looked down at her lap. Carefully studied her interlaced fingers. “Rhys . . .” she whispered, unable to bring herself to say anything else. Unable to trust what might come out if she did.

“Look, just . . . don’t forget to take time to care for yourself, too, okay?” he said at last, his tone lightening a bit. “Work is one thing, but . . . you deserve to do the things that make you happy. Without any guilt or shame for it.”

The smile returned to her face, this time as its own rueful shadow. It was a nice sentiment, to be sure, but . . . “Yeah, well, find me the time and energy to do something more than just work, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Rhys elbowed her, but the movement was gentle, teasing. “Alright, smartass. Maybe I’ll just have to take you to a painting class myself sometime.”

Feyre snorted, her grin becoming more genuine now. “Yeah, okay. I’ll believe that when I see it, Rhysand.”

She could sense him working up a reply, and nearly opened her mouth to interrupt him before he could get it out — but both of them were stunned into silence as the lights flickered overhead, and, miraculously, sprung back on. Feyre squinted, eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden change in lighting, even as relief flooded her stomach.

They were getting out — the rescue crew had gotten here, they were finally going to fix this fucking thing!

It was more of an effort than she thought it would be to be happy about it — to not think about the fact that she didn’t know when she’d next get an excuse to talk to Rhysand again. Not just the two of them, like it was tonight.

She didn’t want to think too much about why she even wanted that to begin with. After all, she hated Rhys. Hadn’t she just been thinking earlier about how obnoxious and insufferable he was? No, it certainly wouldn’t be much of a loss.

When at last they’d been pulled from the gaping maw of the elevator, the doors hauled open so they could wriggle their way between them, she made her best effort to avoid direct eye contact with Rhysand. Speaking with him so candidly in the darkness had been one thing, but in the harsh lighting of the now-deserted parking garage, she felt too bare under his gaze. Too raw from everything she’d revealed, embarrassed by the vulnerabilities she’d laid before his feet. They’d gone back into the real world now, and . . . well, she’d have to work hard to draw those lines back again.

Even if she maybe didn’t entirely mind that they’d been crossed.

“Do you need me to walk you to your car?” Rhysand asked, breath fogging out in front of his face. The face that had been, mere minutes ago, so close to hers in the darkness. Feyre shook her head mutely, and he answered, “Alright. Then . . . take care. And if you don’t mind, shoot me a text when you get home safely?”

A card from his pocket, pressed into her hands. His number scrawled on it, the warmth of his hand still bleeding into the paper. Feyre’s fingers curled around it, and she nodded again, pointedly ignoring the heat blazing in her cheeks.

His fingers gave hers one last tiny, barely-there squeeze before he allowed his hand to fall to his side again. “It was good talking to you tonight.”

“Yeah,” she breathed, finally allowing her eyes to meet his. “You too, Rhys. I’ve . . .” Well, she might regret it, but screw it, wasn’t she on some kind of honesty streak, anyway? It would be a shame to break it. “I think I’ve missed you lately.”

Something unreadable flickered in his gaze, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly in its usual crooked grin. This time tinged with something strangely close to sadness, something that made her stomach twist inside her.

“Goodnight, Feyre.”

#acotar #feysand #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #rhysand #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #my fanfic #sjm fanfic #acotar oneshot

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the-lonelybarricade · 16 days

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OK LB, I know you are drowning in WIP and I'm not saying you should continue Caught up in you.

What I'm saying is OMG this fic has lived rent free in my mind for like a year and the premise is so good and I feel like people are sleeping on it and it's such a good one shot with so much potential.

Go read it, whoever see this and hasn't already, go read right now!! Or I will hunt you down if you don't and I may be as short as Amren but I'm pretty much as scary.

Rhys is so rockstar coded and you nailed this AU. I tried to continue it but I was never able to do you or it justice so it's sitting in the graveyard of my forgotten drabbles.

I have that fic saved as a pdf in my kindle this is how often I read it.

I'm far too unhinged about this to go off anon, sorry It got intense.

I was watching Starstruck the other night and it was making me think of this fic!

You have it saved on your kindle? 🥺 I’m always so surprised (and touched!!) when I find out my little oneshots have stuck with people! Especially the ones I made during event weeks, they all just feel like a fever dream to me

I hope you do come off anon!! I don’t think this is unhinged at all and I’d love to read your drabbles/hear your thoughts! I never had a vision for where the story would go from there, but I agree it has a lot of potential! Rockstar Rhys just hits different 😩

#I don’t know what got into me during Feysand month #but I wish I could write like that now 😂😂#I was pulling daily oneshots out of my ass???#recently I can barely write 3k in a weekend 🫠

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msfeyredarling · 2 years

Text

Because I’m not posting until tomorrow now, I felt like sharing a snippet😬 this is not final though so might be different in the final piece

Rhysand’s eyes softened, almost with a panicked look when he noticed the fear and anger waging a war on her face. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come off in a bad way but you’re brothers right, sometimes I can be a-“

“Prick,” she cut him off, taking in the sincerity of his voice and on his face.

“Most definitely,” he grinned as Feyre chuckled. Their eyes met and she was captured in the glittering universe. Her caught when she noticed the stars that bloomed and soared in the wake of her attention. If possible the moon and stars lived within the violets of his eyes and his exterior was night personified.

#acomaf #acotar #acowar #acosf #rhysand #acofas #feysand #feyre #cassian #fanfic #rhys #fanfiction #azriel #feyrhys #mor #nesta #oneshot #nyx #elain #velaris

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selenicdreamer · 1 year

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Here’s to dreaming

A Feysand one shot that I just thought of and couldn’t help myself. Im not a good writer and English isn’t my native language so pls dont hate me:) enjoy

Possibly will have errors, didnt edit plus its like 1am

I got carried away, this is kinda long:3 sorryxx

She heard it again, the soft and slow melody across her apartement wall.

She’d never admit it to herself but every morning she woke up she would long for the sun to set, for the light to go out of the sky to make way for the night. For that time alone in the studio of her apartment just to paint, away from the rush of the day, the buzz of the crowd and the headache of what her life has been. Her mind would drift to the empty canvas ahead and just paint, create. Though after her break up with her ex, her trouble with her family and all her financial issues, she found herself just sitting across the white surface staring for hours and hours before just leaving it as it was and calling it a day. Some days she would hold the brush and stare at it for hours before placing it back in its case, others she would just cry and cry and throw things in frustration. She couldn’t paint. So after a couple of months she gave up, she would just sit on her stool, hold her brush so tightly she would pierce her own skin with her fingernails and stare. She was so lost in the fog of her own mind that when the music started playing the first time she nearly toppled over her stool and dropped her paintbrush to the floor. The piano chords and notes were drifting silently through her walls, almost melancholically she noticed. She stayed there and listened for hours, silently piercing the wall with her gaze as if she could strip the paint and brick apart to make the music louder. When it stopped she just sat down by the stool and cried, she cried so much she never had before. Why? She didn’t know.

The following day she walked in, fuzzy socks against the wooden floor and sat again in her stool. She waited, five minutes, ten, thirty. There it was, the melancholic piano and the feelings it awoke in her. She wanted to paint, she wanted to capture what it was she thought the person was trying to say with their music. She took a deep breath and just started, slowly with shaky hands, a night sky full of stars and a white piano in a flowery patio being played by almost invisible hands. That was it, her first painting in months. As she finished she couldn’t help the small smile that reached her face, she’s done it, took her more than a week but she’s done it! After months of pain and endless tiredness she finally did something she was proud of, thanks to the piano stranger.As she let the paint to dry and took this time to get a refreshment her mind couldn’t help but hover over the stranger that played such beautiful music it made her feel alive again. That night she dreamed of the music

“I’m telling you, I can’t go do this without you for real, It’s like torture” Mor protested dramatically while leaning on Feyre’s kitchen counter, her golden locks tied securely behind her ears and her coffee in hand as she stared at her with despair Feyre almost laughed,

“And I’m telling you I can’t go back to the same yoga place my ex boyfriend and the instructor fucked in, Feyre cringed, I can’t even begin to think of the look in her face without wanting to bury myself from embarrassment and resentment” she groaned as she kept her focus on the laptop ahead of her, she had to finish that work project sooner than later and she wanted to be free for her special time.

“Do you think I’m some sort of monster?” Her new friend blinked as if offended, “I only meant we should find a new place together, Im not going there again without you! I just did today to rub in their face how much better off you are and to cancel our subscription” Feyre huffed and rolled her eyes, Mor for the little Feyre knew her, was a drama queen, a really good friend but a drama queen. Still being so lonely she was more than grateful to have her in her life. That Yoga place did cause her break up since she found Tamlin, her ex, and her teacher hooking up on a yoga mat but Its not all that bad since it brought Mor and her together.

“By the way where did I leave my jacket the other day? Em has been asking for it since I stole it from her” Mor looked around,her face slightly blushing at the mention of her girlfriend and Feyre hid the icing bitterness at the back of herthroat, bitterness for her pathetic life, never her friend. “Uh check in my bedroom, probably left it while we were trying on clothes” she said but failed to notice that Mor walked in her painting studio before she heard her gasp and her name coming out from her mouth. She immediately stood up and run towards her her fingers rubbing on her temple trying to find a way to kick her out without looking like an idiot.

“Feyre this… you’re incredibly talented” Mor’s eyes were as wide as ever as she kept staring at all her paintings slowly then stopped at her most recent one, her small gasp nearly audible to her.

“Please, it’s just barely sketching, let’s not talk about it” she hurriedly said moving her arms and hinting towards the door,

“Could I buy this one?” Feyre’s heart dropped to her feet she had to look down to make sure it was there,

“What?” She found herself ask,

“Could I buy this one?” Mor repeated her eyes locked to her painting of her neighbour, “my cousin is going to love it, he told me he recently moved so this will be the perfect housewarming gift. I haven’t even seen the place yet” she turned to look at her, her eyes pleading,

Feyre kept staring at her and the painting trying to decide, this was a huge chance for her, her career and she didn’t want to say no to her friend. Though insecurity kept eating her mind what if he hates it and then Mor hates her and-

“Oh please Feyre! He loves playing music he is going to fall in love with this” Feyre then just nodded barely and gulped chuckling when Mor hugged her suddenly, her words just flooting over her head as she wrapped the painting for her, receiving way too much money that Mor insisted on handing her for it before she left.

In the following days Feyre’s mind was still so cluttered she couldn’t finish her project until the last minute,she didn’t even have time to paint for a week so when Sunday came around she hopped into her painting room and patiently waited for the music.

She waiting for so long that she thought she was going insane with boredom, the only thing she could hear was footsteps, heels and she could swear she could hear Mor’s laugh. Deciding she was insane she got up to get ready for bed, disappointed with how her night turned out but just as she was ready to change into pyjamas she heard a frantic knock at her door. Blinking she looked at the wall clock of her bedroom, 12:00am

“Yes?” She said cautiously

“Feyre! Open the door! You won’t believe this!” Mor’s voice rung in her ears, surprised she obeyed and saw her grinning face in a flash before she was grabbing her wrist and leading her out of her apartement and to the left hall,

“Uh Mor, would you kindly please inform me of the reason you’re kidnapping me at 12 in the morning?” She asked confused as they stopped to the apartement next to hers, Mor just banged on the door rudely which Feyre thought was insane until the door opened and her mind went blank,

Right in front of her was the most handsome man she’s ever seen, tall with broad shoulders, silk black hair and eyes such a dark blue she thought could pass as purple. His bronze skin dressed in all black shirt and trousers, his smirk making him utterly and completely devastating to look at. His eyes were so fiercely gazing at her she forgot how to speak, breathe or think

“This is my friend Feyre I’ve been telling you about! She is the one who painted this! Plus she literally lives right next to you!” Mor laughed shaking her head, “that stuff literally is impossible to happen.” She walked in like she belonged right in, which to be fair she did, and kept talking and talking but Feyre and her cousin just stayed at the doorway looking at each other, then his smirk turned into a smile “Feyre,” she shivered, his voice could only be described as the midnight sky, “I am glad to find out I have such interesting and art inclined neighbours” he all but purred before extending his hand to her, “Rhysand, please call me Rhys” Rhys Rhys Rhys

“Nice to meet you Rhys” she shakes his hand trying to hide her anxious state, “come in Feyre darling” she slowly walked in trying not to pass out looking around his apartment, it was the same as hers, a living room connecting with a small kitchen and three closed doors, two to the left one to the right and a huge window up ahead.

“Nice place, I like your decoration” she says softly standing next to Mor,

“Thank you, I think more paintings are due if you’d like to bless me with some” he grins leaning back against the wall

“Shoot, I have to go, Mor stands up hurriedly checking on her phone, Em needs me to pick her up from the library, catch you guys later” she kisses Feyre’s cheek before she storms off and Feyre is left awkwardly standing in a stranger’s house, handsome stranger but stranger nonetheless. She looks at him and he has a curious look on his handsome face, Feyre clears her throat. “Well I should be on my way, nice to meet you Rhysand” she said politely before walking towards the door,

“Wouldn’t you like to see where I put your painting Feyre?” He asks soflty, velvetly looking at her, not waiting for an answer before he starts walking towards one of the doors to the left smirking at her before he walks in, curiously she follows and as he turns off the small lights by the door Feyre’s eyes widen gazing at a huge piano in the centre of an otherwise empty room, safe for the painting on the left wall, the wall she realizes that connects their apartments, Rhys is the piano guy, Rhys Mor’s cousin is the piano guy, Rhys who lives next door is Mor’s cousin and is the piano guy, Rhys who now has her painting of the piano guy that is Rhys who is Mor’s cousin and lives right next door- her mind is spiriling down a hill of panic and she’s just standing there staring at the piano trying not to bolt out the room,

“Do you like music Feyre?” He softly asks as he glances at her before taking a seat, opening the lid and his hands trace slowly and softly at the keys, she thinks she can’t breathe when he starts playing, the same slow yet full of life melody she heard the first day, that very first song that made her heart beat with purpose again, with a longing for life. She swallowed the sob that nearly broke through her and she nodded realizing he isn’t looking at the keys but at her, “I love music yes especially this piece, did you write it?” She asks looking at his hands, trying to stay focused, he grins his eyes sparkling

“Yes, yes I did, how does it make you feel?” He asks curiously looking at her as he keeps playing, skilled enough to not needing to look over

“Alive” she whispers not able to take her eyes off of him as he stands up and walks to her, his hand now as gently as before lifting her chin up so their eyes meet,

“Alive” he agrees before bowing down to graze his lips against hers, their eyes closing as they connect and the world falls into place, her hands moving to touch his shoulders, his to cup her cheeks and Feyre was sure she could still hear the music as he smiled against her lips.

“Here’s to living” he whispers grinning

“Here’s to dreaming” she replies before kissing him again.

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhys acotar #rhysand #acotar #oneshot #fanfic #firstime writing #pls dont judge me I didnt check this

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shallyne · 2 years

Text

Masterpost | AO3

for all my 4 stories // previous pinned post

Under the Stars (Feyre POV, Fluff)

I'm fine, just tired (Feyre POV, Heavy Angst, Major Character Death)

Dancing in the Moonlight (Feyre POV, Fluff)

When you spend long enough in the darkness (Feyre POV, Heavy Angst, Major Character Deaths)

It's nice to see you, Auntie! (Feyre POV, Fluff/Angst)

Keeping her safe (Feyre POV, Angst/light Fluff)

Hard Days Companions (Feyre POV, Feyssian friendship, Fluff/Angst)

Just another shortcoming (Feyre POV, Fluff)

It wasn't supposed to happen like that (Feyre POV, Fluff)

Jealousy, Jealousy (Feyre POV, light Angst/Fluff)

An Unexpected Meeting (Feyre POV, Fluff)

When the clock strikes midnight (Feyre POV, Fluff)

4 AM Talks (Feyre POV, Fluff/Angst, Feyssian friendship)

It would be an Honor (Feyre POV, Fluff, Feyzriel friendship)

Would you still love me if I was a worm? (Feyre POV, Fluff)

Ask me again when you're sober (Feyre POV, Fluff)

Change isn't bad (Feyre POV, Fluff)

Drunk Fey (Rhys POV, Fluff)

And the first night that you saw me I knew I wanted your body (Feyre/Rhys POV, Angst)

The Prince of Night and the City of Starlight (Feyre POV, Feysandnyx fluff)

Yours (Feyre POV, Feysand smut)

gone but not forgotten (Feyre POV, heavy angst, major character death)

Who Are You (Feyre POV, a little angtsy, happy end)

Sisterhood (Feyre POV, Feyre and Nesta, Fluff/slight angst)

Beautiful Stranger (Feyre POV, Fluff/Angst, finished)

take care of Biscuit (Feyre/Rhys POV, Fluff, light Angst, open end, can be read as oneshots)

Because you're my Friend (Feyre POV, Fluff, Heavy Angst towards end, finished)

Come Home (Feyre/Cassian POV, Fluff/Angst, Feyssian friendship, open end, can be read as oneshots)

Once Upon A Night | Once During The Night (Once Upon A Night Rhys POV) (Feyre POV, Fluff/light Angst, finished)

New Realms and Other Beings (Rhys POV, Fluff/Angst, finished)

Sunshine and Promises (Feyre POV, Pregnancy, Feyre x Helion, eventual Feysand)

Sunshine and Reunions (Elucien, Sunshine and Promises Universe)

Two Fates, One Day (Elriel/Feysand, Fluff)

All Our Lives (Feysand, soon...)

Bleeding Ink (Rhys/Feyre POV, Fluff/slight Angst, open end)

Through Blood and Tears (switching POV, Feysand, fluff/Angst)

On the Edge | (Feysand/Elriel Mermay, Fluff, Feyre POV)

Horns and Halos (Feyre POV, afterlife, fluff/Angst)

The Diary of Feyre Archeron (First person, multi POV, fluff/angst, finished)

Feyssian Week Masterlist

Feyzriel Week Masterlist

Rhys Week & Feyre Week Masterlist

Feysand Month Masterlist

SJM Romance Week Masterlist

SJM Next Gen Week Masterlist

Crackshipmonth Masterlist

Feysand Week Masterlist

The Artist of Summer and the City of Starlight (acotar gift exchange) and Bryaxis Moodboard + Poem (acotar gift exchange) - created by @reverie-tales

(Are We) Out of the Woods created for @starfall-spirit

Night Among the City of Stars created by @disturbingly-silent

if you ever think you got it wrong created by @the-lonelybarricade

Shallyne Creator Highlight

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar one shot #Acotar oneshot #Feysand fanfiction #Acotar fanfic #Acotar fic #Acotar fan fiction #Feysand fanfic #Feysand fic #Feysand fan fiction #Feysand one shot #Feysand oneshot #Acotar masterpost #acotar masterlist

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fuckyesfeysand · 2 months

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Creator Highlight #1 - @popjunkie42

Welcome to our Feysand Creator Highlights! We want to take a moment to recognize some of the amazing individuals in our fandom who kindly use up so much of their freetime and creative energy to share their work with us!

To start off, we wanted to highlight @popjunkie42, an author who has shared such a wonderful collection of feysand fics, poems, headcannons, and comissioned pieces with us!

Thank you for sharing your talent with us, as well as being such an amazing source of love and positivity! You never miss a chance to uplift other creators, so we wanted to take this chance to uplift you!

Below are some of our favorite popjunkie feysand creations, and you can find more on their masterlist.

Hate Me Instead - Rhysand and Feyre both struggle with her first visit to the Night Court in this alternative version to early events in ACOMAF. What if Rhysand had stuck around for more for lessons and both of them were making rather poor decisions?

Eureka - aka the one where Rhys wears glasses. A wonderful oneshot that should be paired like fine wine with this comissioned piece

Blossoming In Winter - A Court of Thorns and Roses AU set during the first Hybern war, inspired by the story of Faramir and Eowyn in Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien.

#creator highlight #fanfic #feysand #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #feysand fic #fuckyesfeysand

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azrielsbxtch · 9 months

Text

Feysand Oneshot

𝗙𝗲𝘆𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁🥰

𝗜 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻’𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗳 𝗜’𝘃𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀. 𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗔𝗖𝗢𝗦𝗙 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗚𝘄𝘆𝗻𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗹 & 𝗡𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗮𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲….

Two weeks after Feyre gives birth….

The curtains swayed slightly as a gentle breeze flew into Rhysand and Feyre’s room. He’d left the windows open at her request right before she fell asleep on her sketch pad. Even while on strict bedrest she refused to stay away from painting. Today he and Nyx were her subjects. He held their baby as she sketched smiling softly to herself. Until she fell asleep still drowsy from the drugs Madja had administered.

It’d been two weeks since she’d almost died. Since Rhys had almost lost her and their son. No matter how long he lived Rhys would never forget the complete and desolate despair he’d felt in those moments. The horrible feeling of helplessness. How even being the most powerful high lord in history could not help him save his wife and son.

If it wasn’t for Nesta….His heart clenched painfully as he thought about what might have happened. He would never stop being grateful for Nesta. Ever.

“Stop frowning. You’ll get wrinkles and then I would have to trade you in for a younger model”

Rhys looked up to see Feyre awake.

“Why are you sitting over there?” she asked.

Because he couldn’t get comfortable. No matter how hard he tried. His instincts,his powers were always on alert. Always watching. He hadn’t slept for two weeks but Feyre didn’t know that. He carefully kept that part of his mind locked away. She would worry and that was the last thing she needed. No. He would stay awake and watch over their family.

Rhys felt like at any moment she would slip away. Nyx would slip away. And there would be nothing he could do about it.

“Rhys?”

“Yes Darling?”

“Come to bed.”

“Let me get Nyx first”

After Feyre had fallen asleep,Mor had come to get the baby to lay him down for a nap. Even though the River House was impenetrable considering Rhys had warded it like a fortress,he still couldn’t breathe properly until both Feyre and his son were in front of him.

He knew Nyx was in the nursery. Their minds were already connected. He could see Nyx’s dreams and random thoughts. Their son was a deamati too. And right now,Rhys could see Nyx looking up at Mor as she giggled and played with him.

“Nyx is fine. Mor is with him. He’ll fall asleep in no time”

“But-“

“Come to bed Rhys” she said leaving no room for argument.

He stoop up from the chair and went to her. She wrapped her arms around him and placed his head on her chest lightly stroking his hair. He entertwined their legs together under the blankets.

I know you haven’t been sleeping ‘ she said into his mind.

I sleep. When you’re asleep.’

Don’t lie to me’

He sighed and looked up at her with those violet eyes. Feyre could literally see stars in them.

“I’m sorry” he said quietly.

He nuzzled deeper into her as she continued stroking his hair. Her strokes turned slower,more gentle..

“I know what you’re doing” he mumbled as his eyes started feeling heavy.

Ten minutes later he was asleep. Feyre kissed his head and held him tighter.

——————————————————————————————

A soft knock woke him up.

The bed was empty.

Where was Feyre? Nyx?

“Feyre?” he called out.

“I’m here” she said poking her head out of their closet.

He mentally checked in with Nyx who was dreaming of…a river filled with milk? He must be hungry. Rhys smiled and shared the image with Feyre who laughed out loud.

“I’ll tell Mor to bring him back”

The knock sounded on the door again. Rhys stood up to open it and a sentry stood outside.

She bowed her head and said “I’m sorry to disturb my Lord. The High Lord of Day has arrived”

“Thank you Lia. I’ll be right there”

He closed the door and turned to Feyre. She was wearing one his sweaters as she climbed back into bed. He should’ve have brought comfortable clothes closer to her so she wouldn’t need to stand up.

“I can get my own clothes Rhys. Stop treating me like an invalid” she said shaking her head at him.

He was about to reply when Mor barged in holding Nyx.

“Helion is here” Mor announced. “And this little angel is about put his lungs to good use unless you feed him”

Feyre reached out to collect him and Mor placed him gently in her hands. She sat by her as she fed him stroking Feyre’s hair lovingly. Feyre looked up to see Rhys still standing…watching them.

“Helion is waiting” she said gently.

He nodded. Then walked over to kiss her and Nyx before turning to leave.

——————————————————————————————

He found his friend in the private library with Azriel,Cassian,Nesta and Gwyn? She never came to the River House. He knew because Nesta and Azriel had invited her many times but she always declined.

“And how old is he?” she was saying to Helion.

“Thousand of years old”

“Oh my goodness” she said in awe. Azriel stood behind her shaking his head.

Cassian noticed Rhys standing by the door and walked over to him.

“How’s Feyre”

“She’s…getting better”

Cassian nodded.

“What’s going on here?“ Rhys asked.

Cassian chuckled before saying “Az finally got Gwyn to agree to come here when he told her Helion was arriving with his Pegasus.”

That made sense. Gwyn had an almost obsessive fascination with the magical creatures. He was sure Helion was happy to meet someone who cared about the creatures as much as he did.

“Maellan is by the River. You can see him if you wish”

“I’ll take you” Az said gently taking her hand.

“Thank you so much” she said to Helion.

She turned and was startled to see Rhys at the door. Gwyn bowed and Rhys said “Hello Gywn”

“Hello. Congratulations on the birth of your son. I hope he and the High Lady are doing well”

“They are. Thank you” he said smiling warmly.

She blushed before Azriel dragged her away throwing a warning glance at Rhys. Rhys heard something like

“he needs to keep those smiles to himself” in Azriel’s mind as the shadowsinger walked away.

Helion went to Rhys and hugged him. “Congratulations my friend. I’m so happy for you”

“Thank you Helion”

“How is Feyre and the babe?”

“They’re doing well.”

Helion observed him closely. “You don’t like to leave them”

“Not if I can help it”

Helion nodded. They turned to walk out of the library and headed to the gardens to talk further.

——————————————————————————————

After Helion left,Rhys went back to his room and found Cassian and Nesta with Feyre and Nyx who was in Nesta’s arms. The baby kept staring at Nesta and giggling. Nesta was cooing to him in a baby voice. Cassian stood next to her watching them.

He climbed into bed with Feyre and threw an arm around her shoulder.

“Everything alright?” she asked

He nodded then said,“Helion informed me that Kallias,Thesan and Tarquin would all love to formally meet the baby. They asked Helion to meet with me and inquire if that was feasible”

“Is it going to be a ceremony of some sort?” Feyre asked

“No” Rhys replied gently. “I think our friends want to meet our son”

“Oh…Alright then”

“Are you sure? If you’re not feeling up to it-“

“I’m fine Rhys. I promise”

Rhys nodded and bent down to lightly kiss her.

Cassian covered Nyx’s eyes “Honestly Rhys there is a baby in here”

Rhys flipped him off.

Nesta gently placed Nyx in his cradle before dragging Cassian out to give the new parents some privacy.

Some minutes later,Nyx fell asleep and an image flashed into Rhys and Feyre’s mind as their son started dreaming. Tears sprung into Rhysand’s eyes as he saw what Nyx was dreaming about.

A swirling cosmos of stars and light. And right in it’s center…his face and Feyre’s shone brightly with love.

The center of their son’s universe.

Just as he was theirs.

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theladyofdeath · 1 year

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Nyx bonding with the bat boys

A/N: Anything that includes Nyx is a prompt I adore. This is how I imagine nights with uncle Az and uncle Cass to go. Thank you for your prompt! x Warnings: Language, overwhelming cuteness

"What's it about?"

"Bats."

"Bats like us? We're bats."

Cassian and Azriel shot each other a look over Nyx's head, who sat in between them on his bed.

"Who told you that?" Azriel asked, at last.

Nyx, at four, shrugged. "Auntie Nesta."

Cassian snorted but didn't dare correct him as he opened the book and began reading. "Alright. Bart the bat-"

"Who's Bart?"

"The bat," Cassian answered, before continuing. "Bart the bat liked to wear hats. His-"

"I'm hungry," Nyx said, sighing. "And thirsty. And I don't wanna go to bed."

Cassian and Azriel looked at one another again.

Rhysand and Feyre had winnowed to Adriata to take care of a few minor details of a newly founded treaty between the courts, leaving Azriel and Cassian at the manor with Nyx. Nesta and Elain had gone with them, along with Amren and Mor. At first, both Cassian and Azriel had protested, but it would be a peaceful meeting that held no threats. Beside, everyone who had gone could look after themselves, and someone had to watch Nyx.

So here they were.

"It's almost bedtime," Azriel began, slowly. "If you don't get to sleep, you'll be cranky tomorrow."

Nyx crossed his arms and frowned. "I will not. I'll be cranky if I don't eat."

"We just ate an hour ago," Cassian said, then tried to start the story again. "Bart-"

"Can I have cheese? I like cheese."

Azriel's sigh was one of the most dramatic sounds that Cassian had ever heard come out of his brother's mouth. He snapped the book shut and said, "Cheese, then bed."

"Cheese, then Bart the Bat."

Once again, Azriel and Cassian shared a look that said, This kid is a manipulative little shit.

"Fine, but you better be a fucking delight tomorrow, you hear me?" Cassian said, poking Nyx in the ribs, making him giggle.

"Yay!" Nyx jumped up on the bed and clapped his hands. "You have a yucky mouth, Uncle Cass. Mama says you should wash your mouth out with soap."

Azriel snorted as he pushed himself off the bed and threw Nyx over his shoulder. "He should, shouldn't he?"

"Auntie Nesta shouldn't kiss you with a yucky mouth," Nyx went on, his voice fading as Azriel carried him out of the room.

Cassian tossed the book aside and followed them through the halls, toward the kitchen. "Auntie Nesta likes my yucky mouth. Hers is yuckier."

He swore he heard Azriel mutter he's not wrong before turning into the kitchens. After setting Nyx on the counter, Azriel pulled out a block of cheese and began cutting off slices and handing them to Nyx.

"Can I have bread?" he asked, mouth full of cheese. "I like bread."

"Is there anything you don't like?" Cassian asked, sarcastically, taking a fresh loaf of bread off the counter.

Nyx thought about it for a moment as his uncles worked. "Turnips."

Azriel's lips quirked as Cassian let out a laugh. "Your parents make you eat turnips? That's just mean."

"I know!" Nyx threw his hands in the air. "They won't let me leave the table until they're all gone. Sometimes I hide them in my pockets so I don't have to eat them all."

Cassian stopped cutting the loaf of bread to narrow his eyes at Nyx. "You lie to your mama and papa?"

Nyx shrugged. "No. I just don't eat my turnips."

Azriel chuckled, sliding across a plate of cheese and setting the knife aside. "Turnips help you grow big and strong."

"I'm going to grow big and strong because I'm an Illyrian," Nyx said, mispronouncing the word Illyrian as he always did. "And I'm high fae. And a bat."

"And because you eat your turnips," Cassian said, snatching a piece of cheese and popping it into his mouth.

Behind him, Nyx's wings drooped. "But turnips are gross. They're only yummy at Auntie Elain's."

At the mention of Elain's name, Azriel's eyes softened. "Auntie Elain makes good turnips?"

Nyx nodded enthusiastically, snatching up a piece of bread. "Auntie Elain makes good everything. Every time I go to Auntie Lainy's, she lets me eat alllllllll the muffins I want!"

"She has pretty good muffins, doesn't she?" Azriel asked, smiling to himself.

Cassian lifted his brow. "Like Auntie Elain's muffins, uncle Azzie?"

Azriel shot Cassian a look. "Don't pervert Elain's muffins."

Nyx's brows scrunched together. "What does pervert mean?"

Both Cassian and Azriel's eyes shot to the kid. Azriel said, "It means...lazy."

Nyx frowned. "I don't understand."

"Lazy?" Cassian snorted. "Nice one."

Azriel nudged Cassian.

Cassian nudged Azriel back.

"Mama says it's not good to fight," Nyx said, kicking his feet from where he sat on the counter, stuffing his face with bread and cheese. "She says it's naughty."

"It's only naughty if you're four," Cassian said, stealing another piece of cheese, earning a glare from his nephew.

Nyx's eyes widened. "I can fight when I'm five?!"

"He's too smart," Azriel whispered. "Feyre's gonna kick your ass."

"Ass," Nyx repeated, with a giggle.

"No," Cassian corrected, "she's gonna kick your ass for teaching him words like ass."

"You've sworn so many times-"

"I want water," Nyx interrupted, jumping up on the counter.

"Alright, no standing on countertops," Cassian said, sweeping Nyx off the counter, into his arms. "And don't say naughty words."

Azriel filled a small glass with water and handed it to Nyx, who took two sips before deciding he was done. With a yawn, he handed his glass back to Azriel before laying his cheek on Cassian's shoulder. "Can we finish the bat story?"

"Sure, buddy," Cassian said, quietly. "Uncle Azzie, bring the cheese."

Azriel took the plate of cheese and bread, and followed Cassian and Nyx back down the hall to his bedroom. Once they got him tucked back beneath the covers, Cassian helped himself to the cheese and bread as Azriel opened the book.

"Okay," he began, clearing his throat. "Bart the bat liked to wear hats. His favorite hat was red-"

"I have to go potty."

Azriel slowly laid the book against his lap. "Alright. Go on."

Nyx slipped out of the blankets, hopped off the bed, and disappeared into the washroom.

"He's a handful," Azriel muttered, shaking his head. "He's perfect."

Cassian chuckled. "I love that Rhys is getting exactly what he gave to his poor mother. The menace."

Azriel grinned and they both took a beat of silence, thinking about Rhysand's mother, who helped them both become the men that they were now.

Nyx came back in, his pajama pants crooked. Azriel straightened them before Nyx climbed back under the blankets and settled himself.

"Okay," he said, yawning once more. "Bat."

Azriel opened the book, yet again, and started reading. "Bart the bat liked to wear hats. His favorite one was red and flat. He wore-“

"Uncle Azzie?"

Azriel looked down at Nyx, lying between he and Cassian. "Hmm?"

"Will you do the funny voices?"

Cassian grinned as Azriel took a deep breath. "Of course." He started again, coming up with his own voice for Bart the bat. "Bart the bat liked to wear hats. His favorite one was red and flat. He wore his hat with his best friend, Pat, who was a cat-"

"I want a cat," Nyx said, his eyes drifting shut. "A black cat. Named Pat."

"That sounds nice, buddy," Cassian said, with a yawn of his own.

Azriel continued. "He wore his hat with his best friend, Pat, who was a cat that sold hats. Bart got all of his hats from Pat. He-"

"Do you have any hats?" Nyx asked, with his eyes closed.

"Everyone has hats," Cassian assured him.

"I don't have a hat." Nyx frowned. "But I have cheese."

"Cheese is much better than hats," Azriel promised, returning to the book. "He-"

"Uncle Azzie," Nyx began, snuggling up between the two of them, "why are there always shadows around you?"

Cassian's eyes darted to Azriel, who slowly shut the book. "Well," Azriel began, unsure of how to answer. He had never had anyone ask him about his shadows, much less a child. "The shadows are my friends. They stay close to me...to protect me."

Nyx, eyes still closed, sighed contentedly. "I like your shadows."

Azriel smiled warmly as he brushed the hair out of Nyx's eyes. "They don't scare you?"

Nyx shook his head, burying himself deeper into his blankets. "No. They make me happy."

Cassian watched but didn't say a word as Azriel smiled. "I'm glad to hear that, buddy. Thank you."

Nyx reached up to take Azriel's hand but said no more as his breathing shallowed, then turned even. Cassian watched the child as he sank into the mattress, only speaking when he was certain that Nyx had fallen asleep.

"So," he said, quietly, "what the fuck happens to Bart the bat?"

Azriel laughed and shrugged. "Apparently he likes hats, and his best friend is a cat."

"Lucky bastard," Cassian said, eyes slowly shutting.

Azriel shook his head, setting the book on Nyx's bedside table. They said no more as they drifted off into dreamland, two Illyrian warriors on each side of the heir of the Night Court.

It was exactly how Rhysand found them once he returned, just after midnight, snuggled up together with a plate of cheese and bread. His son, his heir, well protected and happy, blissfully asleep and well loved.

#nyx #azriel #cassian #bat boys #bat bois #bat bros #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #drabble #rhysand #feysand #nessian #elriel #fluff #uncles #tara answers prompts

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starfall-spirit · 9 months

Text

Rewrite the Stars

@officialfeysandweek2023

Day 5: Starfall

Read on Ao3

“We had danced. All of us together. And I had never seen Rhys so happy, laughing with Azriel, drinking with Mor, bickering with Cassian. I’d danced with each of them, and when the night had shifted toward dawn and the music became soft and honeyed, I had let Rhys take me in his arms and dance with me, slowly, until the other guests had left, until Mor was asleep on a settee in the dining room, until the gold disc of the sun gilded Velaris.”

~A Court of Mist and Fury, Pg. 441

AN: This was only supposed to be a moodboard, but @shallyne is constantly putting out little ideas I want to run away with. I'll just let the book quote serve as the summary.

“They’re a band of fools,” Rhys muttered, watching his drunken family members stumble towards various pieces of furniture one by one. The dawn was just kissing the sky as he was finally left alone with his mate once again. He loved his family to pieces, truly. And he had been smiling so often this evening his face was almost aching from it. It had been too long since he felt that joy. Since they all did.

And it was all thanks to the female beside him.

A slow melody was drifting over the dwindling crowd staying to embrace the morning, and as Feyre leaned against the red stone of the house to watch the pinkening sky he found his feet bringing him closer to her.

“I don’t think any sight could compare to the moment the stars fall, but there is something beautiful about the sunrise,” she said. “Maybe it’s just my imagination. Wanting to paint again may be changing how I view the simple things.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, either way. But I did mention before, dawn is exquisite to all of the solar courts. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself tonight.”

“How could I not? There’s certainly nothing like this in the human lands, and I’ve always found solace in the stars. To be beneath them tonight, here with you—” She paused, looking startled by her own confession as his own heart began to race. “—and the others. All of you, I mean.”

He reached out to cup her face, finding a bit of pink there beneath the shimmering dust from earlier. “Dance with me, Feyre. One last time, before we go home. Please?”

One more dance would never be enough, but it was all he could ask of her without pushing too hard. Even if he’d be cataloging every tender moment between them that night. Every intentional brush of fingers, every smile and laugh between them, every time she spun away from Cassian or Mor and right back into his arms, leaning into him before logic or fear had her pulling back to a more modest hold. He was a greedy bastard, clinging to those stolen moments, but he needed every one of them.

“I’d love that, Rhys.” She’d be the death of him, smiling like that. And he’d let her, if it meant she was healing at last. He squeezed her hand, drawing her away from the wall and back out to where the stragglers danced around them. She slid right into his arms, this time close enough to share breath. And as he started to lead her, she rested her head on his chest, the soft scent of her washing over him.

It would only take a few movements. Simple adjustments to shift his hand off of her waist and band his arm around her, to reach up and cradle her head, to lean down and press a kiss to her hair. All possibilities she may permit after everything that had changed between them.

All possibilities that could shatter the progress they had made. He couldn’t risk that, not even now with her body pressed to his, a tentative trust growing over these weeks. Months, he’d dare say. From the moment she left Spring, things had been changing, little by little. He had to hope this step wasn’t all to do with the wine they’d drank this evening. Or that she’d brush it off as only that, even if he didn’t deserve a happy ending with her.

“A thought for a thought?” Feyre mumbled into his chest sometime later, the visiting citizens long gone.

“Didn’t we already play that tonight?”

She shrugged. “You seem… pensive. I thought it might help. Was it too much after all, being with your family? You seemed happy earlier.”

He sighed, running a loose length of hair between two fingers. “I’m thinking, Feyre, that I’m more happy than ever. And I’m dreading the moment I have to fly you back to the town house and say goodnight.” He ducked his head, his nose brushing the side of her face as he brought his lips to her ear. “What’s your thought, darling?”

He couldn’t quite tell if it was the breeze around them or his tone that had her shivering in his arms, but he knew which he’d prefer. “I’m thinking I don’t want this to end either. But if I’m being honest, my feet are killing me.”

He chuckled, despite his disappointment that her confession broke the spell building between them. “Come on then. I’ll winnow back once we’re past the wards.”

She let him lift her in his arms, possibly holding her a little closer than was necessary. “Can we—can we fly the whole way? If you aren’t too tired?”

He smiled softly. “Why not.”

And as she curled her arms behind his neck, her head tucked under his chin, he knew he was utterly ruined for anyone else, regardless of what happened in this war. If he lost her…

He launched into the sky, flying directly to the townhouse and setting Feyre back on her own feet all too soon. “Goodnight, Feyre.”

“Goodnight, Rhys.” And something in her voice, in her eyes, held him there at her door. “Goodnight,” she repeated, softer this time. And as he slipped into his own room, that hesitation turned into a restlessness he hadn’t felt between them before. Almost like—hope. As if—She couldn’t want that. Not from him. Never from him. That bridge was long since burned, no matter what sort of chemistry they may have as mates.

And if he told her now, she knew between the story he’d shared with her about his parents and whatever Tamlin had told her, most mated pairs would try to force the bond to work. She had endured enough out of obligation and he would not risk swaying her with such a strong sense of duty. Not when she was just finding her independence again. He tried to send something soothing down the bond between them and moments later he sensed her settling in at last, exhaustion at the young hour finally claiming her consciousness.

Rhys fell to his knees at his own door. And he wept.

~~~~~

Taglist:

@lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone

#feysandweek2023 #starfall #day 5 #acotar #feysand #moodboard #feyre archeron #rhysand #velaris #night court #oneshot #fluff #feysand fic

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