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theladyofdeath · 4 years
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City of Starlight {1}
An A Court of Thorns and Roses & Throne of Glass Crossover, Modern AU fanfiction.
Based on a prompt sent in for the 5k follower contest {winner}, from Anonymous: “Competitive arts school tog x acotar crossover”
Summary:  Velaris School of the Arts is the most prestigious school of talent on the continent. Whoever wants to be someone wants to get in. As her senior year of high school is coming to an end, all Aelin Galathynius wants is to go to the city of starlight and play music. Feyre Archeron, however, longs to paint for the rich and famous. Painters, singers, dancers, actors, and filmmakers come together in friendship, love, and lust, and find that they have a lot more in common than they thought.
A/N: Shoutout to @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ for writing chapter one with me! Ugh, I’m so excited to write this story, y’all don’t even know. Read, enjoy, & let me know what you think!
Warnings: language
Links:
Fanfic Masterlist
Ask me ANYTHING!
City of Starlight {ACOTAR/TOG crossover}
> Characters Detail Sheet <
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Aelin and Aedion stepped out into the late afternoon sun. The drive had taken a little bit longer than intended, but that was only because they stopped to sight-see anything that sounded interesting, including the world’s largest pumpkin. Although ginormous, it was rotted and horrible, but there had been a sign just before the exit and they couldn’t resist. It was also at that exit that they stopped by a little hole-in-the-wall bakery and Aelin got two dozen chocolate donuts.
She’d eaten nearly half of them between there and the entrance of the city.
Velaris was beautiful, just as Aelin suspected it would be, but she really couldn’t wait until nightfall to see the famous starlight. They had a few hours before that, though, which meant that they had to find their apartments. Instead of traditional dorms, since Velaris was a smaller school, they had a huddle of apartments and townhouses. They were all cluttered close together, though, and it was a bit overwhelming trying to decipher which building was which.
“Fuck,” Aedion muttered, looking around the square. They were standing in the middle of four different apartment buildings, all of which looked exactly the same. “What’s your building?”
Aelin dug through her bag to find the envelope with all of her information in it, which took a solid two minutes, and once she opened it up, it took another two to find the right piece of paper.
Aedion just watched her, shaking his head. “How have you made it this far in life being so disorganized?”
She gave him a vulgar gesture as she read, “I’m in building B.” She blinked. “They’re alphabetized?” 
Aedion looked around to find the nearest sign, then groaned. “Well, this is building Q, so if that’s the case, we’re pretty far off. I’m in B, too.”
With a dramatic sigh, Aelin said, “And here I was hoping to finally get some distance from you.”
Aedion nudged her in the ribs before climbing back up behind the wheel of his truck. They rode around for nearly forty-five minutes, slowly, reading every sign they passed with frustration. At one point, they thought they were close, because they came upon building C, only to be met at the next building with a sign that said “Apartment Building L”. Aelin swore it was a test of will - one she definitely didn’t care for.
But, alas, when they finally found Apartment Building B, it was a glorious feeling, and once Aedion pulled into a parking spot, Aelin jumped out of the car and yelled, “Finally!”
She expected Aedion to make a profound exclamation, too, but when she looked over the hood of the car at him, he was looking elsewhere.
On the other side of the courtyard was a girl with long, brown hair, a black tank top, and a pair of ripped skinny jeans. Aedion was staring at her, his lips parted. 
“Aed,” Aelin snapped, voice loud, and he jerked around to meet her gaze. 
After clearing his throat, he muttered an apology and went around back to open the truck bed. He kept glancing across the courtyard every few seconds, though. Aelin wanted to pick on him, but he seemed to be quite smitten and she actually thought it was sweet.
“You should go talk to her,” Aelin said, at last, helping him carry their bags and shit to the sidewalk. 
Aedion shook his head. “I’m too busy helping my cousin move in.”
Aelin rolled her eyes at the excuse as she grabbed a box of pillows and began walking backwards toward the sidewalk, keeping her eyes on Aedion, who was looking over his shoulder, once again. “I’m just saying. I’ve seen that look before, and I- shit!”
Aelin nearly dropped the box as her back ran into a tall, hard body. She quickly turned around to meet the narrowed, green eyes of her acquaintance. 
“Watch where you’re going, freshman,” he warned, his voice low.
Aelin opened her mouth to tell him off, but Aedion must have seen her shift in body language because he was instantly at her back, saying, “It was an accident, calm down.” 
“I’m just saying,” he began, repeating what Aelin had just said, still looking down at her, “that she needs to watch where she’s going. There’s a lot of people around here, and if she’s walking backwards, I won’t be the only person she runs into. The next one may not be so pleasant.” 
Aelin snorted. “This is you being pleasant? Gods.” 
The newcomer’s lips tightened into a straight line as he went to take a step around Aelin, at last. She let him go, but Aedion wasn’t as forgiving. He blocked the silvery-haired stranger’s path and met his hard gaze with one of his own. Aedion was maybe half an inch shorter than he was, a little less broad, but other than that, they were close in stature. In a fight, they would be fairly evenly matched. 
“You owe my cousin an apology,” Aedion said, head cocked slightly to the left.
A light danced in the stranger’s green eyes as he met Aedion with a cocky grin. “You’ve only been here for five minutes and you’re already trying to get your ass kicked?”
“This is ridiculous,” Aelin muttered, stepping in between the two, even though they both stood a head taller than she. “We have shit to get done, knock it off. Unless you want to help us move our shit into 21 and 32, move on with your day.”
The newcomer tensed as he breathed a curse. Then, he looked to Aedion. “You’re in 21? Ashryver?”
Aedion’s hard eyes slid from his cousin’s to the man. “Depends who’s asking.”
“Rowan Whitethorn.” His arms were crossed, clearly not offering a handshake. “I won’t be helping you move, but looks like we’ll be spending a lot of quality time together.”
“Shit,” Aedion breathed.
Rowan turned, his pine green eyes pinning her in place. “And you are?”
Big brother mode kicked in and Aedion grabbed her arm. “None of your concern. Come on, Ace.”
The two began to walk towards the lobby, but Aelin glanced back over her shoulder at Aedion’s surly new roommate. Rowan’s eyes narrowed, as if he were studying her.
With her back straight and her chin held high, Aelin met his stare with one of her own. His shoulders tensed before turning his back to her and walking away. 
“Considering you have way more shit than me,” Aedion began, snapping Aelin back to the present, “why don’t you go see where your room is? I’ll come find you after I find my room and bring my bags in, and I’ll start bringing your stuff up.”
Aelin held a hand over her heart. “What would I ever do without you?”
Aedion blinked. “Everything? Stuff for yourself, for once?” He suggested.
With pursed lips, Aelin shoved him in the shoulder, then he laughed as they took to the stairs. She left him on the second floor before trailing up to the third.
Students were hurrying in and out of every room, the excitement of move in day as strong for the older students as it was for the freshman. As she passed each room, it was like a glimpse into a different world. She could hear instruments being tuned and found people sharing designs on tablets and laptops. She heard clear voices and bass driven beats. She felt like she was home.
She finally found the door marked 32 and took a deep breath. She had been an only child her entire life, Aedion the closest thing to a sibling she’d had, so the idea of having roommates was completely foreign to her. She took a deep breath and sighed, twisting the door knob.
To find that it was...locked.
Aelin glanced down the hall again, on both sides. There wasn’t a single door shut on her floor, save for hers. She assumed she must have been the first of her roommates to arrive.
She dug through her bag until she found the key they’d given her, on a VSOTA lanyard and slid the key into the lock.
She had assumed wrong.
Sprawled out on the couch, tangled in each other’s arms, were two women lost in an intimate embrace, and Aelin was most definitely interrupting.
“Shit, sorry!” She yelled, quickly turning away, attempting to give them privacy while also feeling horribly embarrassed. “I should’ve knocked!”
There was a shuffling on the leather couch then soft laughter flooded into the room.
“Knock?” A light voice said. “It’s your house, if you’re Aelin, which I hope you are, because if you’re not this is a very strange situation.”
Aelin hesitated before slowly turning back around, where she was met with a grin from the young woman with long, blonde hair. She was brushing through it with her fingers when Aelin said, “I suppose that’s one way to break the ice in front of your new roommates, right?”
The blonde’s grin widened. “I’m Mor. This is my girlfriend, Nehemia. I live here, she doesn’t. Our other roommate should be here soon, but I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow!”
Nehemia gave Aelin a gentle smile before pulling her hoodie on over her tank top. Her long braids were pulled back into a low ponytail. “I’m glad you came, actually, brought me back to reality. Elide was expecting me ten minutes ago to help put up flyers for the block party tomorrow night.”
Mor clicked her tongue. “How dare you let me distract you? Elide will have my ass.”
Nehemia chuckled as she kissed Mor on the cheek, then smiled once again at Aelin. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” she smiled.
The door clicked shut behind her and Mor said, “And how is Velaris treating you so far?”
Aelin chuckled and said, “Velaris is kicking my ass. It took us over forty-five minutes to find our building.”
Mor laughed. “Yeah, it can be a bit of a maze sometimes. But you said us? You brought someone?”
Aelin caught the glint in Mor’s rich, brown eyes. “No, no, not like that. I mean, I didn’t bring him. He's studying film, but he’s my cousin. Practically my older brother.”
Mor nodded. “My cousin is here, too, right beneath us.” She stomped a few times for good measure. “Over-protective prick.”
Aelin laughed. “Is it your first year?
“Technically, yes, but I’m from Velaris.” Mor made her way into the kitchen and grabbed a bottled water out of the fridge. “Rhys and Az have been here for two years, so I basically have, too.”
Aelin hesitated.
“Oh, right,” Mor said, after taking a sip from her bottle. “You have no idea who they are. Rhys is the prick, my cousin, and Azriel is the only good one in our group.” She winked as Aelin chuckled. “It’ll all be a lot to take in, but you’ll get used to it. Starting with the party tomorrow night, and the party that follows the party.”
Aelin just nodded, but she wasn’t following at all. Instead of asking more questions, Mor showed Aelin to the two unoccupied bedrooms and Aelin chose the one that looked out at a massive oak tree, the branches within arms reach out the window. Her and Mor made “get-to-know-you” small talk as she waited for Aedion to bring up her belongings.
Aelin wasn’t sure what she was expecting from her roommates, but Mor seemed nice and funny and Aelin assumed they wouldn’t have any problems.
She couldn’t say the same for Aedion, though.
Rowan Whitethorn seemed like a serious piece of work.
~~
Feyre sat in Rhysand’s lap with her arms around his neck in the middle of the quad, Cassian and Azriel sprawled out on the grass beside them. 
“This is it, then?” Cassian asked. “And here I thought we’d actually have to work our asses off at this beautiful institution.”
Azriel opened his eyes just to roll them. “Classes haven’t started yet, idiot.”
“Call me idiot one more time,” Cassian muttered, but he was grinning.
Feyre just shook her head before turning her face back to Rhysand’s, planting her mouth on his. 
Cassian said, “Must you? Get a fucking room, gods.” Rhys lifted his foot where it laid near Cassian’s head and kicked him. He mumbled, “Prick”.
Feyre laughed. “Speaking of rooms, I do have one of my own now.”
“Should we go test out the bed, darling?” Rhysand’s violet eyes were brilliant  in the August sun as he smirked.
“That’s not what I was suggesting, but maybe, later,” she said, with a wink.
Cassian and Azriel groaned. Az had never been so happier than the day that Feyre received her acceptance letter to VSOTA. It meant she’d have her own place, and he wouldn't have to hear she and Rhys until all hours of the night. No wonder their roommate hated them.
“I should go check on my sisters though,” she sighed. “Nesta is all the way across campus now.”
Cassian muttered, “Good.”
Feyre shot him a look, but she didn’t blame him. He and Nesta had a drunken one night stand at a party in high school, when he was a sophomore and she was a senior, and after that every time the two ran into one another it was...tense, to say the least. 
“It’s been years,” Azriel said, his eyes still closed. “You two should get the fuck over it.”
Cassian's brow lifted as he looked sideways at Azriel. “Damn. What's up your ass?”
“He’s just pissed because Whitethorn drank one of his beers this morning,” Rhysand chimed.
Feyre scrunched her nose. “I never understood how people can drink beer when they’re not already drunk. The taste is awful.”
But Azriel was throwing his hands in the air. “They’re hard to find and I specifically told everyone to keep their hands off!”
“If you’d drink regular beer like the rest of us, you wouldn’t have this problem,” Cassian said. “And if you two would have requested me as your roommate like you were supposed to, you’d have one less person tell not to drink your Cafe Coco Coffee stout or whatever the fuck.”
“You didn’t turn in your registration until after the semester ended! It’s hard to request someone who isn’t a student.” Azriel laid back down and closed his eyes again. “And it's an IPA called Coffee Del. If you’re gonna make fun of me, at least do it right.”
“Sounds gross either way,” Cassian mumbled.
Feyre was laughing uncontrollably. “My gods, I never knew you were so boujee, Az.”
The side of Azriel’s lips quirked upward. “I’m heading to Elain’s in a little bit to help put together her bookshelf, if you wanna go with me.”
“I can do that,” Feyre said, “as long as Nesta’s not there, we haven’t spoken in a year and I don’t plan to start today. To do that, I will need beer in me, and not Azriel’s fancy shit, but the crap kind that tastes like junk but gets you real drunk, real fast.”
Rhysand just shook his head, slowly. “You’re so sexy.”
Feyre’s grin widened as she took his face into her hands and pulled his mouth back against hers. Cassian groaned as Azriel took off his beanie and threw it at them.
“Fuck off,” Rhysand muttered, against Feyre’s lips. “And I’m keeping your hat, so thank you.” 
Azriel chuckled quietly as he closed his eyes, once again. Cassian stood up and announced his departure. “I have to go meet my roommates.”
He was in the building across from the others, which he had made sure they all knew he was pissed about. After pulling the sheet of wadded up paper out of his pocket, he read, “Fenrys, Lorcan, and Dorian.” He stared at the paper for another minute before sighing, dramatically. “You two assholes have fun with your new roommates while I go make new friends.”
“Your dramatic ass should have gone into acting, Cass,” Rhysand said, his arm around Feyre’s waist tightening. 
Cassian just grinned as he shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking backwards, away from the center of the quad. “I would have, but I was gifted with the voice of an angel.”
“You’re no angel,” Feyre muttered, and he held his middle finger up high as he turned his back to them and walked away.
“Fuck,” Azriel breathed. “Now I have to watch you two suck each other’s faces alone.”
And that’s exactly what they did.
———
Nesta Archeron fell onto the couch, having finally carried her last bag up from the car. She deserved the chilled glass of wine she was going to pour herself, just as soon as she could breathe again.
The door opened and Amren groaned as she carried a tub towards her bedroom. “Why exactly do we have to move during the hottest season of the year?”
“I say you and I just buy a little house in the city so that we can stay there year round,” Nesta said, slowly making her way toward the fridge. “And then we wouldn’t have to have any other roommates, either.”
Their previous roommate had graduated the year before, so a new one had been appointed to them, one that Nesta was dreading to be in the same room as, much less living alongside her. She didn’t know Manon Blackbeak all that well, but the dancer certainly had a reputation. 
Amren knew her a little bit. They’d had a few classes together, both being dancers at the same school for a few years now, but the two had never really talked.
When Nesta and Amren found out that Manon would be their new roommate, they debated on leaving VSOTA altogether and moving to the other side of the country, but no, they had worked too hard to get where they were, and they wouldn’t let Manon ruin their ongoing success. 
“You know, you could help me,” Amren scowled.
Nesta shrugged as she popped the cork from her wine bottle and filled a glass. “That’s your last tub, you’ve got it.”
Leaving the door open, Amren rolled her eyes as she pushed the tote into her room before going back to the living room and falling down on the couch. “Just pour me a glass and we’ll call it even.”
“Deal.” Nesta poured a second glass before re-corking the bottle, returning it to the fridge and carrying the glasses to the other room. She handed Amren a glass and sat in the oversized chair in the corner.
“It’s the least you could do after you took the good room, you bitch,” Amren muttered, the glass to her lips.
Nesta scoffed and threw her a vulgar gesture. “I wasn’t up all night at Varian’s.”
“I’d hope not,” Amren smirked. “Since we were up all night fucking.”
A throat was cleared from the open doorway and Nesta and Amren turned to find Manon standing there with a leather messenger back over her shoulder. “Hey.”
Nesta’s oncoming good mood was instantly fading. “Blackbeak.”
Neither Nesta or Amren moved to welcome their new roommate, but Manon didn’t seem to mind. She walked through the open door, her chin held high. “Which room is mine? I assume you’ve already chosen, given how comfortable and smug you look.”
Amren nodded to the door in the corner. 
“Thanks,” Manon muttered, and began to walk that direction.
“Wait,” Nesta said, taking a long sip from her glass before setting it on the side table and rising to her feet. “Since you’re being forced to live with us, there’s a few ground rules.” 
Manon snorted, but faced Nesta, nonetheless. “Fine.”
“First of all,” Nesta began, slowly walking to where Manon stood in the middle of the room. “If you decide to have a late night booty call, let us know. We have no interest in sharing the breakfast table with whatever fuckboy warms your bed that night.”
Manon lifted a perfectly sculpted brow. “Fair. And second?”
“Keep your space clean,” Nesta went on, stopping a good foot away from where Manon stood. “I don’t do well with messes.”
Manon sighed, looking at her long, black-painted nails, seemingly bored. “I’m not a fucking slob, shouldn’t be an issue. Anything else?”
Nesta looked over her shoulder at Amren, who was watching them both with a deadly, feline smile.
“We hear you got kicked out of your last apartment for being a bitch,” Nesta went on, at last. “So, keep to yourself as much as possible and realize that the school assigned you to live here, we didn’t ask for it.”
Nesta wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she was going to get, but it certainly wasn’t the grin that spread across Manon’s lips. She surely wasn’t expecting Manon to close the distance between them and get up in her face. Her voice was low, amused, when she said, “I don’t mind keeping to myself, because I came here to dance, not to make friends with bitches like you.” 
———
Setting her phone down on top of the stack of flyers, Elide flipped her head upside down and gathered her hair into a messy bun. Being a member of the student council, she’d been on campus for over a week. While everyone else was moving in, she’d been mingling, giving tours, helping new students and, currently, putting up and handing out flyers for the block party she’d been planning for two months.
And, gods, it was so hot.
She picked her flyers up, tucking them against her chest. She’d already hit the East and South sides of campus. Nehemia, though she was late and Elide had given her a look which she blushed at, was heading to the North side. She decided to get to West campus through the Quad, where most students today were gathering.
As she crossed campus, many people she knew called out to Elide. She was waving to one of the girls she’d taken Geology with the year before when she ran into a wall.
Which turned out to be a rock solid chest of muscles.
Her flyers flew from her arms and Elide swore under her breath.
She was  immediately down on her hands and knees, trying to gather the flyers before the breeze took them away. When it was clear the wall she’d run into wasn’t going to help, her eyes snapped up to meet the one and only Lorcan Salvaterre’s.
She didn’t know Lorcan, at least not well, only by reputation. He was a loner, kept mostly to himself. Some say he did jail time before he began at VSOTA, in high school, and looking at him now, Elide didn’t doubt it.
He was just staring at her when she scoffed, “Mind giving me a hand?” 
“Here, I’ll help.” Elide looked over her shoulder to find Cassian, a freshman who she had met a few days before and had instantly clicked with, hurrying to where she knelt in the grass. Cassian leaned down to help, but not before giving Lorcan a distasteful look. “Fuck, you knock her down and don’t help her out? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I didn’t knock her down, she ran into me.” Elide could have sworn a snarl left Lorcan’s lips, but he did squat down and begin helping the two of them scoop the papers up. Once they had gathered what hadn’t blown away, he stood and held the stack out. “Maybe she should look where she’s going.”
Elide snatched the stack back and narrowed her eyes at him.
Lorcan’s expression didn’t change as he reached and took the flyer from the top to read it. “The block party? As if that’s the party people will be at that night.”
She took it back from him. “It’s before the other party even starts. It’s a way for new students to make friends, not get trashed.”
“Fuck that,” Lorcan mumbled. “It’s a waste of time.”
“How about you keep your negativity to yourself, huh?” Cassian asked, taking a step forward in Lorcan’s direction.
Lorcan blinked, as if just remembering that Cassian was there, too. “Who the hell are you? Is this your little boyfriend?”
The question was directed at Elide, but she didn’t answer. Instead, Cassian said, “I’m the only guy here that knows how to act in front of a woman, apparently.”
Lorcan laughed, loudly and humorlessly. “You may want to watch how you speak in front of me. Haven’t you heard? I’m a criminal.”
Cassian snorted. “Is that your idea of a threat? Pretty weak ass threat to me. I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t care, but Elide doesn’t need your shit, so go do whatever it is criminals do, and leave her alone.”
Lorcan’s shoulders tensed as he asked, “Excuse me?”
Elide was suddenly there, in between the two men. “Let it go, Lorcan. Cassian,” she turned and handed him a flyer. “I’ll see you there?”
He grinned. “I’ll be there.”
Lorcan scoffed, but Elide ignored him. “Anything I can help you with? You’re good?”
“Nope, just headed to D.” He picked up the duffle he’d dropped when he rushed over to help Elide gather her flyers. “Time to meet my roommates.”
Lorcan snorted and said, “Good luck to them.”
Cassian stilled, and looked over to where Lorcan was standing. “Sorry?”
“I’m just saying,” Lorcan mumbled. “I’d hate to be stuck living in an apartment with your ego.”
“You’re a dick,” Cassian said, voice low. 
“Do you really think that’s the worst insult I’ve ever gotten?” Lorcan asked, then took a look at Elide. “You going to let your little boyfriend insult me like that?”
Cassian was anything but little. In fact, he and Lorcan were pretty evenly matched. 
“Leave Elide alone,” Cassian warned. “Seriously, stop talking to her like that-.”
“Or what?” Lorcan interrupted, humored. “I’m sure her little interaction with me has been the most excitement she’s had this week in her perfect little world.”
Elide wanted to tell them both to just walk away, but Cassian was pissed now, could see it in the way he clenched his fists at his side, could see it in the way the vein in his neck popped. 
“How the hell did you get into this school?” Cassian asked, his voice low. “You fuck your way to the top?”
“I don’t think you want to do this,” Lorcan breathed. “My face doesn’t have to be pretty. I’m sure yours does.”
Cassian’s jaw ticked and he tilted his head to the side. “That’s sweet. You think I’m pretty.”
Elide froze and she swallowed. Everyone had heard stories about Lorcan. Everyone but Cassian, it seemed.
“What’s your name?” He breathed.
Cassian very casually tied his hair back in a short knot at the back of his head. “Why? You wanna follow my instagram? It’s pretty impressive, I’ve got about nine-hundred followers.”
“I won’t beat the ass of someone who’s name I don’t know.”
Cassian’s lips pursed. Elide watched the wheels in Cassian's head turning. Lorcan’s pride may not have let him kick the ass of someone who’s name he didn’t know, but apparently Cassian held no such reservations.
Elide wanted to scream at him, to call Cassian Nazari the world's biggest idiot, because he crossed the space between he and Lorcan, swinging his fist and knocking Lorcan Salvaterre square in the jaw.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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shyvioletcat · 4 years
Note
I think you said that LorcanxNesta was your new favourite crackship. We got some new chapters of CoS, so any new crackships you like?
I knew they were destined to crash and burn but I did enjoy it while it lasted. I also love the fact Lorcan was starting to be about the feelings even if it led to their relationship’s demise.
At this point in time I’m not fully invested any new crackships but I’m open to be influenced into joining a new crew.
VERY excited for next chapter @tacmc @snelbz
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darling-cas · 6 years
Text
All Is Well: Elriel
TOG/ACOTAR Christmas Fic Co-written with @tacmc
Summary: Elain takes Az ice skating, too bad he can’t stand on his own two feet. MODERN AU
Note: Tara, you are a gem and such a pleasure to work with. When I first came up with the idea to do this little series, I had to work with her. And when she mentioned she wanted to do ice skating for Elain and Az, I couldn't help but agree - even after writing 2 full-length figure skating fics! Thank you so much for doing this with me, girlie! I hope I get to work with you again in the future, XX.
All Is Well Masterlist
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Azriel was not made for winter.
It’s not that he didn’t like winter, he actually loved it. The idea of it, anyway. He loved looking outside of his apartment window to see blankets of snow, loved seeing kids building snowmen on his way to work, loved watching them catch the thin, ivory flakes on their tongues.
But being in it? Staying outside for hours in the dreary, frigid weather? No, thank you.
Elain, on the other hand, was not Azriel.
The love of his life, who was perfect and beautiful in every way, brought him to a small ice rink on the outskirts of the city. Azriel knew she loved to skate, knew she loved the independence the sport gave her when she glided along the ice, but he never thought Elain would expect him to skate alongside her.
As usual, he was wrong.
A small bench, made of a fallen down tree trunk, sat at the corner of the rink. Azriel was currently the only one occupying it as he stared at the skates Elain had gifted him with – staring, but refusing to put them on.
He had never skated before. He didn’t know how to skate. And, being the man he was, he surely did not want to embarrass himself.
Because he would. The moment he’d step out on that ice, he’d fall on his ass, and Elain would laugh, and his cheeks would turn an awkward shade of pink even though he’d try to convince them not to.
So, he sat, and watched her glide gracefully across the pond.
“Azriel!” she called, skating backwards, giving him a grin that sent a shock through his body. “Are you coming? Come skate with me!”
“Uh –“ he hesitated. He should have said yes. He should have been excited to skate with her, to share such an intimate moment with her doing something that she loved. But, he had hesitated.
And she had noticed.
She stopped, in the middle of the pond, and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
He took a moment to open his hands and watch the snowflakes fall onto his black, cotton gloves before he glanced back up to see the disappointment in her eyes.
Azriel debated on making up an excuse. A few flew to the tip of his tongue, but he admitted, nonetheless, “I don’t know how to skate.”
Elain chuckled, then covered her mouth with her hands at his expression. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh! Just….put on the skates, Az. Please?”
“But I can’t-“
“I’ll help you.”
Azriel watched her for a long while before loosening his breath, and pulling the heavy skates over his thick, woolen socks.
He rose to his feet, and wobbled to the edge of the rink. After swallowing his pride, he put one blade against the ice, and then the other. And then –
Nothing.
He was standing.
“This isn’t so bad,” he mumbled.
Elain, from the other side of the pond, giggled. “You haven’t done anything yet!”
He glared in her direction, but couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across his lips as she skated circles around him.
Literally.
A chill shook his body and he cursed himself for not putting on more layers before leaving the house as he courageously put one foot in front of the other.
“There,” he said, refusing to take his eyes off his feet. He was moving, slowly but steadily, shuffling along the middle of the ice. “See? Now I’m –“
A very unmanly yelp fell from his mouth as his ass hit the ice and a string of curses filled the air.
There was a moment of silence as realization washed over Azriel. He could feel the flush on his cheeks grow a darker shade of red, his gloved covered hands forming a tight fist. Then, he glanced up at Elain.
She was frozen, mittens covering her mouth in shock as her honey-brown eyes widen with concern and laughter.
The look on her face only caused his ears to turn pinker.
Slowly, Elain lowered her hands from her face, skating a single step closer to where Azriel was sitting on the ice.
“Are you alright?” She asked, but even he could hear how hard she was trying not to laugh. A fact that was only made more evident as he watched her bite down on her bottom lip, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile as she eyes glistened.
Azriel took a deep breath in through his nose. He glanced down at the ice he was sat on before looking back up at Elain.
“My ass is wet.”
Elain didn’t even try to hide her smile anymore. The grin that broke out on her face was wide and full of amusement. “Well. You are sitting on ice.”
Despite the situation and the color staining his cheeks, Azriel could feel the slightest smile pulling on the corners of his lips. Clearly, his cheekiness was rubbing off on Elain, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it.
Elain let out a musical laugh as she skated in front of him, holding out her hands.
“Come on,” she smiled down at him.
Azriel stared at her hand for a moment before unclenching his fist, placing his hands in hers as she helped him stand.
It was like he had no control over his feet, that's what it felt like. He could feel them slipping and sliding under him but there was nothing he could do to stop it. And just as fast as he stood up, Azriel felt himself start to fall again.
But Elain was there and the grip on his hands tightened as he started to slide backwards.
“Don’t overthink it,” Elain’s voice was soft and gentle as she spoke, looking down at their feet before meeting Azriel’s gaze. “Don’t think about the fact you’re in skates and on ice, just balance yourself and stand there.”
Azriel nodded, though it was easier said than done. But eventually, with Elain’s help, he managed to find his balance and stand there without his feet moving under him.
“Great!” Elain smiled. Then, so very slowly, she started to glide backwards and Azriel couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of panic start to rise within him. But Elain just continued to smile. “Don’t worry, you can hold my hands the whole time if you’d like.”
Azriel felt his own grin spread across his face as he gave Elain’s hands a squeeze.
“How can I say no to that?”
The slightest pink formed on Elain’s chilled cheeks, a piece of hair flying in her face and Azriel felt his heart swell with love.
They skated around the ice at a slow and steady pace. True to her word, Elain never let go of his hands. She was always there when he felt like he was losing control again, holding him and keeping him steady.
After some time went by and Azriel had yet to actually fall again - though there were a number of close calls - Elain moved so she was skating next to him rather than gliding backwards in front. Still, her hand never left his and Azriel actually felt like he could now do this. Maybe he could actually skate-
That was the thought he had right before he hit a rough patch in the already uneven surface of the pond.
He tried to stop himself from falling, but gravity and momentum were not on his side. Soon, he found himself on the cold ground once more and this time, he took Elain with him.
Azirel only registered his pain for a moment, then his eyes landed on Elain. She was half on top of him, legs tangled with his, and Azriel was very careful not to move his blades in case he’d cut her.
Panic rushed through him, until her eyes met his and he saw laughter in them. Freshly fallen snow stuck in her hair and when Azriel was sure she was okay, he couldn't help but let out a breath.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, but Elain simply shook her head.
“It’s fine, Az,” she laughed, placing a cold kiss on his nose. “Really.”
Azirel brought his hand up to brush a piece of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering there as he looked into her eyes.
“I know this isn’t the day you had planned-”
“No it’s not,” Elain cut him off. She was so close that Azriel could feel her chilly breath on his cheeks as she smiled. “It was better.”
Azriel’s restraint blew away with the wind at the look in Elain’s eyes.
Leaning forward, he captured Elain’s lips with his. Despite the coldness in the air around them, as he poured all his love and devotion into that kiss, Azriel felt fire race through his veins, his heart growing two sizes at the love he had for the women in his arms.
“Az,” Elain breathed, pulling back slightly with mischief, love and - gods help him - desire coating her eyes. “Now my ass is wet. And I’m cold.”
A deep laugh fell from his lips. “Hot chocolate then?”
Azriel felt like the ice had crept in and stole the air from his lungs at the smile Elain gave him. That smile, that carefree dazzling smile, was his favourite thing in the world and Azriel knew, even if he hated winter, he would do anything and everything Elain wanted just to see that smile.
Placing a cherished kiss his lips, Elain nodded.
“Hot chocolate sounds perfect.”
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wingsofanillyrian · 6 years
Note
do you have some good acotar/tog blog recommendations?😊
I HAVE SO MANY.
@highladyofdreamcourt your #1 source for edits (and check out her fics too 😏)
@spegetty is a great friend and she’s currently working on a lil nessian fic!
@runesandfaes another genuinely awesome person with some great headcannons!
@darlingfireheart another lovely person and co-high lady of the Lightning Court!
@squaddreamcourt FOR FICS OF ANY SHIP YOU COULD POSSIBLY WANT (and some of the best smut I’ve ever read tbh)
@iamthebonecarver Donnie is absolutely wonderful and is a total sweetheart! 
And some other lovely people:
@queenoffantasy @aedicn @rowan-buzzard-whitethorn @tacmc @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @propshophannah @highlady-casandra  @feysandsmut @cassianandfenrysaremyboyos @catastrophicallyinlovewithbooks @tothemoonandback-97 @foxboy-lucien @highkeynessian @rowaelinsmut @lordlochanlorcan @queen-archeron @modernbookfae @highlord-tarquin @paperbacktrash @readinglikewildfire @fiery-feyre
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theladyofdeath · 4 years
Text
City of Starlight {teaser}
An A Court of Thorns and Roses & Throne of Glass Crossover, Modern AU fanfiction.
Based on a prompt sent in for the 5k follower contest winner, from Anonymous: “Competitive arts school tog x acotar crossover”
Summary:  Velaris School of the Arts is the most prestigious school of talent on the continent. Whoever wants to be someone wants to get in. As her senior year of high school is coming to an end, all Aelin Galathynius wants is to go to the city of starlight and play music. Feyre Archeron, however, longs to paint for the rich and famous. Painters, singers, dancers, actors, and filmmakers come together in friendship, love, and lust, and find that they have a lot more in common than they thought.
A/N: Shoutout to @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ for helping me with prepping and writing the teaser. I’m excited to start this one! Angst & drama + fluff & romance = City of Starlight. Here’s the teaser.
Links: 
Fanfic Masterlist
Ask me ANYTHING!
City of Starlight {ACOTAR/TOG crossover}
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Aelin looked around her empty bedroom. 
Four years of high school had come and gone, and now she was left looking at empty purple walls and bookshelves that had been cleared. She left a few things, of course. She couldn’t take everything with her to Velaris. Her bed still had her floral comforter set, tucked in neatly around the edges, the same one she’d had for years. A poster of her favorite band still hung on the wall, along with some pictures of her when she was little with her mom and dad. Her homecoming tiara sat on her dresser, and her first guitar sat in the corner.
That guitar was too precious.
She knew it would be safe here, in her old bedroom, in her parent’s house.
A horn honked from outside and Aelin glanced out of the sheer-curtained window. Aedion was sitting behind the wheel of his truck, ready to go. The bed was loaded with their belongings, and her cousin was infamously impatient. 
It had always been their dream to get into the Velaris School of the Arts. Four years of studying and training, four years of getting better and meeting people that could help them make their dreams come true. It was crucial. It was everything. It was life changing.
And both her and her cousin had both gotten in after years of hard work and a little bit of luck. Him for film-making, her for music. She was glad she already knew someone. The thought of going there alone not knowing a soul was daunting. People from all over the continent got into Velaris. Aelin was excited to get to know people from other places, considering she had never left Terrasen, but she was glad to have her anchor.
Aedion was her anchor.
She gave her room one last look before reaching for the doorknob and pulling it closed.
Her purse was already slung over her shoulder, so all she had to grab was her guitar at the top of the stairs and her backpack and suitcase by the front door. She locked it on her way out and hurried down the drive to where Aedion waited with the windows down.
“Is Aunt Ev home?” He asked, leaning down to see the house better.
Aelin tossed her bags into the bed with a groan. “Nope. They’re in Vienna, I believe.” She opened up the back door and slid her guitar case between the seats. Getting into the front seat beside him, she added, “Dad is winning the award this time, or, wait.” She tapped her chin, as if she were deep in thought. “Is it mom?”
Aedion laughed and said, “Shut up, you know they’d be right here if they could be.”
It was true. Aelin’s mother had video called her four times, and it was only nine in the morning.
After a quick run through of her essentials, Aelin gave Aedion the okay to hit the road.
In three short hours, they’d be arriving at Velaris School of the Arts. Aelin would finally be living her dream.
Here’s to hoping it wouldn’t become a nightmare.
Tag list (comment or send an ask to be added):
@mariamuses​ @wifeofchrishemsworth​ @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit​ @rowanismybae​ @bibesfirra​ @starrynightsbooks​ @the-dark-swan​ @b00kworm​ @awesomelena555​ @alxanxah​ @rowaelinforeverworld​ @highqueenofelfhame​ @slightfanofeverything101 @towhateverend17​ @ifinallygavein​ @aa1482003​ @sjm-things​ @courtofmaasdestruction​ @ifangirlninja​ @imwastingmylifeinhere​ @dreamerforever-5​ @rhyswhitethorn​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @notyournymphetish​ @slitherofgold​ @flora-and-fae​ @my-parabatai-is-a-herondale​ @thereaderandfangirl​ @courtofstars @psmarra @rosalineroses​ @marshall119​9 @mockingjayusa​ @wordsafterhours​ @sleeping-and-books​ @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​ @mu-si-ca-l​ @court-of-glass​ @booklover41802​ @empress-ofbloodshed​ @towhateverend17​ @sjmships 
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theladyofdeath · 4 years
Text
City of Starlight {Detail Sheet}
So, there’s so many “main” characters and content in this fic, I thought a reference would be helpful to keep everyone straight! 
 Singers: Aelin, Cassian, Amarantha 
Dancers: Manon, Amren, Lorcan, Nehemia 
DJ/production: Rhysand
 Instrumental: Nesta (Piano), Azriel (Violin), Lysandra (Cello), Fenrys (Drummer)
Theater: Elide, Elain, Dorian, Mor
 Artists: Feyre, Rowan
Film: Aedion 
Roommates:
Aelin, Mor, Feyre
Elain, Elide, Lysandra
Nesta, Manon, Amren 
Cassian, Lorcan, Fenrys, Dorian
Rowan, Rhysand, Azriel, Aedion 
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snelbz · 3 years
Text
Life As We Know It {Chapter 23}
Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.
Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.
Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​
Life As We Know It Masterlist
Shelby’s Masterlist
Tara’s Masterlist
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Nesta was torn.
Half of her thought that Cassian was overreacting, but the other half of her thought that his anger and frustration was perfectly justified.
What exactly were they getting into? And, was it what was best for Nyx? Yeah, the last month had been great, but if it didn’t work out, what would that mean for him? Would it be better if she and Cassian had simply remained two friends, co-parenting under one roof?
Nesta’s heart began to beat a little faster.
She felt like she was going into a panic attack.
Cassian and Nyx had been gone for an hour, and every second that passed became more and more unbearable.
She needed him to be there.
She needed to figure this out.
She just didn’t know what the answer was.
Alis had gotten into her head, there was no doubt about that. A little over an hour ago, she was living in a dream, then Alis came in, out of nowhere, and brought her back to reality.
She was sitting on the couch, almost exactly where he’d left her, when he finally returned. He was covered in sweat, his t-shirt sticking to him. Nyx was having a conversation with him, more to himself though, since it didn’t seem like Cassian was even close to paying attention to him. But his eyes went directly to Nesta as soon as he walked in.
She’d changed. She no longer wore his t-shirt, instead in a loose shirt of her own and a pair of jeans, and her hair was loose and wet around her face. As if she’d need to shower their night together, shower him off of her. Not a shred of that beautiful skin was showing, not like she’d been doing lately. Leggings and shorts and tank tops. She’d been comfortable around him.
With a scoff, Cassian set Nyx down on the floor. He headed for the stairs, but Nesta stood, nearly toppling the cup of coffee she’d been clutching over as she set it on the coffee table. “Cassian, we need to talk about this.”
He paused, waving a hand towards her. “What for? It looks like you’ve already made your decision.”
“I need you to calm down,” she said, steadily. “I need you to think logically.”
Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me.”
Nesta hesitated. “Tell you what?”
“If this is something you want to pursue or if I just wasted the last couple months falling in love with you,” he finished.
His voice may have lacked emotion, but Nesta felt every word like a stab in the chest. Falling in love with you. Those were the words she was going to tell him today, under much different circumstances.
Now, she didn’t know what to think.
Now, she was overwhelmed.
Now, all of her thoughts were rushing toward the same spot in the middle of her skull at a thousand miles an hour, and when they got there, her head would explode.
“It’s not that easy,” she said, and her voice cracked.
“But it should be,” Cassian said. “If you feel the way that I do, it should be that easy.”
“We have to think of Nyx,” she breathed.
“I am thinking of Nyx,” he said, struggling to keep his voice low. At the sound of his name, the baby turned to look at him. “I want him to grow up in a happy home, seeing two people who love each other, and damn it if that isn’t how it’s been for the past few weeks.”
“It’s not that simple,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “What happens if we break up? What happens if we get in a fight or something happens to one of us? What then?”
He had strode down the stairs and was in front of her before he could stop himself. He framed her face in his hands, like he had so many times the past month, to kiss her, to make love to her, to show her how he cared for her. “Why are you worrying about the what if’s? Why are you worrying about what could go wrong, rather than how right everything has been?”
Because everything goes wrong eventually. The only reason we’re together is because we were shoved into this house after the worst thing imaginable happened. They died. We took over. What right do we have to be happy?
The words flooded her mind, but stilled on her tongue.
Nesta didn’t push him away. She wanted to reach up on her toes and kiss him, softly, but she didn’t.
Instead, she met his gaze. “Cass,” she breathed.
The pain in his eyes nearly shattered her heart into a million pieces.
Nyx had walked up to them and was hugging Nesta’s leg, as if he knew that she needed the comfort.
“Dont say my name like that,” he whispered.
Nesta slowly shook her head. “I just think this has all happened too quickly. We haven’t been thinking, we’ve just been acting-.”
“You’re pushing me away,” Cassian interrupted, swallowing harshly. “Damn it, Nesta.”
“You don’t understand,” she pleaded.
“Because you’re not making sense,” he argued. “Things have been perfect—”
“They’re dead!” She cried, pulling from his grip, scooping Nyx up. “Things have been far from perfect. We’re only like this now because Rhys and Feyre are dead.”
The words seemed to freeze something inside of Cassian and he stepped back as well. “So what? We go back to how we used to be? I’m back in the guest room and we awkwardly exchange good mornings over breakfast?”
She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of him, the scent of him, everything. “I don’t know, Cassian, I don’t—.” She took a shuddering breath, her arms wrapping tighter around Nyx. “I just need some time to think, to breathe…”
When she looked back up at him, his jaw was set and he was slowly nodding. “Fine. Take your time.”
And then he was moving, back up the stairs before Nesta could even ask what he was doing.
A few minutes later, he was back with a duffle bag in his hands.
“Wh—what are you doing?”
“Giving you space,” he said, refusing to meet her gaze.
Nesta opened her mouth but nothing came out. She was frozen where she stood, her feet stuck to the floor, her mouth hanging open, that panic rising from the pit of her stomach into her heart, which was beating far too quickly.
Cassian kissed Nyx on the forehead as he passed, but paid Nesta no mind as he went for the door.
“Cassian!” She called, at last.
Cassian stopped just in front of the door, keeping his back to her, one hand on the doorknob.
“You're just going to leave?” She asked, quietly, bouncing a sleepy Nyx on her hip. “Just like that?”
Cassian didn’t turn around. “Are you going to ask me to stay?”
Yes. No. I don’t know. Nesta said nothing.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he grumbled, exhaustion lacing his tone. “Maybe I need time to think, too.”
He opened the door and shut it softly behind him.
*
He didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.
He knew where he wanted to be, but right now…
He couldn’t look at her.
It didn’t escape him that when he’d told her he’d fallen in love with her, she didn’t say it back. He couldn’t even act like he hadn’t seen her eyes flare in panic. So he couldn’t stay there. Couldn’t go back to sleeping in that guest room, not when he’d become so used to sleeping with her in his arms every night.
So Cassian had ended up here, knocking on his brother’s door, thankful that his car had been parked in the driveway when he pulled up.
He needed a drink. He needed someone to tell him he was being an asshole. He needed someone to listen while he vented and bitched. He knew Azriel would do all that for him.
When he answered the door, Seph was in his arms, pulling on his bottom lip. She smiled when she saw Cassian, but Azriel’s surprised smile quickly faded.
“Do I want to know?” He asked, looking at the duffel bag tossed over Cassian’s shoulder.
Cassian sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Can I sleep here tonight?”
Azriel stared at him for a second before stepping aside and letting Cassian pass.
“Are we talking about this now or later?” Azriel asked, shutting the door behind them.
“Beer?” Cassian asked, dropping his bag beside the couch.
“Fridge,” Azriel said, slowly, watching him.
Cassian made his way to the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door, grabbing a cold bottle and chugging its contents.
Azriel followed, leaning against the countertop and Seph continued to play with his lips.
“Where’s Elain?” Cassian asked, tossing the empty bottle into the trash and getting another.
“Work,” Azriel said, sighing. “So, if this involves smack talking Nesta, you may want to get it out now.”
He shook his head. He didn’t want to do that, barely wanted to think about her. But he owed Azriel at least some explanation.
“The social worker stopped by this morning,” he sighed, leaning back against the counter and opening the beer. “And honestly, yeah, it was unexpected, but I figured it’d be fine. Last time, Nes was drunk off her ass, but we— I figured, since we were more of a family this time, things would be great.”
Azriel blinked. “They’re not taking Nyx, are they?”
Another shake of his head. “No, gods, no. They— She could tell he was in good hands, but she immediately picked up on Nesta and I. What we’ve…become.”
It seemed, just like Cassian, Azriel didn’t see it as a problem. He wasn’t following. “And?”
“And Nyx was hungry so I left the social worker and Nesta alone to get him breakfast. I came back and she’s gone and Nesta is second-guessing our relationship. She asked if I’m just fucking her out of convenience.”
The thought made him sick to his stomach, almost as badly as it hurt his heart.
“And you replied with…” Azriel began, trailing off, waiting for Cassian to finish the sentence.
“I went for a jog,” Cassian said, shrugging.
“So you ran away?” Azriel pushed.
Cassian shot him a look. “No. I went for a jog.”
Azriel sighed. “And when you came back?”
“She said she needed space,” Cassian said, emptying his bottle.
Azriel set Seph on the floor with a plastic spatula, which she instantly start banging on the cabinets. “And that’s when you ran away?”
“I didn’t run,” Cassian snapped. “I gave her what she wanted. I gave her space.”
Azriel slowly shook his head. “Did you even try to talk things out?”
“Yes,” Cassian said, the word clipped. “Told her I was falling in love with her, and guess how she replied?”
Azriel watched his brother.
“Didn’t say a fucking word,” Cassian finished.
When Azriel didn’t speak, he walked back to the trash can, dropping the bottle inside.
“Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here,” he said, unable to turn around and look his brother in the eye. “She was ending it. She was calling things off and I’m supposed to, what? Just keep living there like we were before? Pretend nothing has changed?” He swallowed hard, willing the damn tears clouding his vision to fade. They wouldn’t. “She didn’t even ask me to stay.”
Azriel sighed, opening a cabinet beside the fridge that Seph couldn’t reach. He produced a bottle of whiskey and set it on the counter. “I can’t drink until Elain gets home. And I absolutely think you need to talk to Nesta, but I think you’re right. You need to stay here tonight. Give her space.”
Cassian blinked, and a tear that was holding on slid free, down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away. He felt ridiculous, but it had been a long time since he had told a woman that he loved her. He’d never said it in his adulthood. A couple times in his teens, before he knew what the word really meant, but never as an adult.
He’d said it.
He’d meant it.
And she hadn’t felt the same.
Cassian nodded and poured himself a glass of whiskey.
*
Nesta stared at Cassian’s contact on her phone screen.
She wanted to press the call button, but didn’t.
She did open a blank text a few times, but couldn’t type anything.
She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do.
She knew what she wanted.
She wanted Cassian.
But, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
She had never been one who was dependent on a man, had spent most of her twenties single and having no problem with it. But suddenly, she couldn’t imagine her day to day life without Cassian in it. And that terrified her.
She heard murmuring on the baby monitor sitting next to her on the side table and glanced over to see Nyx sitting up in his crib.
It had been nearly three hours since Cassian left, and aside from putting Nyx down for a nap, Nesta had barely moved. She still sat in the same spot on the couch she’d been in when the social worker had shown up and when she’d ignored that Cassian had said that he loved her.
The words should have filled her with joy and she should have screamed from the rooftops that she loved him, too. Instead she locked up and thought she was going to be sick.
What was wrong with her?
Wiping away the tears she didn’t even realize had fallen, Nesta hurried up the stairs, and into Nyx’s nursery. He reached for her the moment he saw her, his own big, blue eyes beginning to fill with tears.
“What’s wrong, bubba?” She cooed, resting his head against her shoulder.
After a deep sigh, he looked up at her and reached for a tear that had fallen down her cheek. His lip began to wobble.
“I’m okay,” Nesta promised, even though her voice cracked and those tears continued. “I’m okay, buddy, I promise.”
Nyx knew, though.
He knew something wasn’t right.
He knew Cassian was gone.
He knew Nesta was heartbroken.
Little did he know that her heartbreak was self-inflicted.
Nyx laid his head back on her shoulder and clung to her. He stayed like that as she walked back downstairs and sat back in her spot on the couch.
He held onto her, looking around the room. She knew he was looking for him and was about to tell him he wasn’t here when he spoke. The word wasn’t a mash up of noises like it had always been. No, it was a true and steady word. His first word.
“Dada?”
Nesta froze. She didn’t even know what to say. Should she tell him Cassian wasn’t his father? He probably wouldn’t even understand, just like he didn’t understand where Rhys and Feyre had gone.
But…for all intents and purposes, Cassian was his daddy now. And she was his mama.
So she pressed a kiss to his dark hair and whispered. “He had to leave, baby. He had to go for a little while.”
Nesta hoped and prayed that Cassian would walk back through that door, and yet, she couldn’t muster the courage to ask him to.
That night, instead of Cassian taking up the spot next to her, it was Nyx, who held her hand until they both fell asleep.
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snelbz · 3 years
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Spitting Image
Based on the anonymous prompt:  “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
Co-written, as always, with @tacmc​.
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Cassian had been infuriated when he left his flat, but as he sat in his car outside of Nesta’s house, there was a hollowness settled in the pit of his stomach.
He hadn’t been back in Velaris for long. He hadn’t expected to be back so soon, but he missed his family too much to stay in the north forever. After their constant begging, and after he’d gotten his college diploma, he was packing up and moving back to the city of starlight.
Where she was.
He’d been avoiding her so far, hadn’t seen her once in the month he’d been home.
Until he found out.
Then he was going to confront her, going to pound on her door and demand how she couldn’t have told him. He was going to yell, was going to look her in the eye for the first time in years and demand answers she’d never given him.
Nothing came to him, though, as he sat in his car, staring at her front door.
None of it made any sense. It made as little now as it had then, when a single text message had shredded his heart, and sitting here, staring at the unfamiliar house, Cassian felt all those old wounds reopening.
With a weary sigh, he let his forehead fall against the steering wheel and he closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how they had ended up here, how any of this had happened, but he knew exactly what day everything had changed.
Just like everything else in his life, Cassian had gotten his information to Adriata’s head coach just days before the deadline, going back and forth on the decision of whether or not he should pursue his dream. Summer training was slated to start the following Monday and when his phone rang, he never expected it to be Tarquin Hadrian himself.
He’d immediately texted Nesta, telling her he had good news and that he was on his way to see her. He had to get packed. He was leaving for Adriata tonight.
She texted back and told him she had news, too, but he was so excited, he didn’t even think to ask what it was. He knew she’d tell him as soon as he got there.
But she hadn’t, because Cassian had gone first.
He’d told her about the scholarship, told him his education was paid for at one of the best universities in the country. He’d told her that he would be playing football, starting as a freshman.
Then she’d told him she was proud of him, told him how amazing it all was. Cassian was so hyped up that he forgot to ask what her news was.
She broke up with him soon after, because he would be too far away, and long distance was too hard. Cassian had left, and never heard from Nesta Archeron again.
Now, he would.
As soon as he got the nerve to get out of his car.
He looked at the clock on the dash. 
He’d been there for nearly half an hour.
It was time.
Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath before throwing open his door and getting out.
He was sure she had to know he was back. He’d been to dinner with Elain and Azriel the night before. They’d firmly avoided the topic of the eldest Archeron sister, just as every conversation had since he’d arrived back in Velaris. Just as he’d been doing to the woman herself.
As he walked up the cobblestone path to the door, he was struck by just how much the home looked like it was made for Nesta. It was older, but you’d never be able to tell. Not with the glossy, navy shutters and the cheery garden out front. He was sure that was courtesy of Elain, rather than Nesta.
When he lifted his hand to knock, all of the anger that had built and built in him fell away and he felt a pang of nerves growing in his gut.
Five years.
It had been five years since he’d seen Nesta Archeron. Five years of wondering how she was, what she was doing, who she was with.
With a final deep breath, he knocked on the door. Cassian wasn’t sure what he was expecting when the door opened, but it sure as shit wasn’t Tomas fucking Mandray.
Cassian froze.
As did Tomas.
“The fuck are you doing here?” Tomas asked, which Cassian thought was funny, because he was just about to ask Tomas the same question.
“I need to talk to Nesta,” he said, evenly.
“Too bad,” he replied, leaning against the door frame. “She’s unavailable.”
Cassian rolled his eyes and said, “Cut the cheeky bullshit. I need to talk to her and it’s important.”
Nothing in his life had ever been this important. Not even the championship games he’d had the honor of playing in…and winning. And he knew nothing would ever be as important again.
“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” Tomas said, stepping out and getting eye to eye with Cassian. He hadn’t remembered being taller than the man, but he felt a small bit of pride as he had to look up at him. “Coming back after all these years, trying to come in like you still have a claim on her.”
Cassian had to take a moment to catch his breath, to remind himself that causing a scene, that kicking Tomas’ ass, would do no good. 
“Go get Nesta,” Cassian said, simply, calmly. “I’m not leaving here until I talk to her.”
“Then you’ll be waiting a long ass time,” Tomas said, his voice low. 
“I’ll wait,” he replied.
The two men stared at one another, unblinkingly. 
Her footsteps began creaking down the old wooden stairs behind Tomas, and the moment that Cassian saw her, every thought he’d ever had fell from his mind. It went completely blank, and he suddenly began to panic as every emotion he’d ever had for Nesta flooded the surface. 
Love, lust, complete adoration.
Anger, hatred, complete heartbreak. 
“Who’s here?” Nesta asked, reading a novel as she walked. She always had her nose in a book. 
Tomas lifted his chin. “No one. He was just leaving.”
Nesta looked up then, and on the bottom step, she froze. Her eyes connected with Cassian’s, and her lips fell open. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t do a thing.
“Tomas, I think you should head home,” she said, voice so quiet that Cassian was surprised he could hear it.
He turned around, staring at her. “Are you kidding me?”
“Please,” she said. “Go.”
Without another word, he walked towards the back of the house. Nesta was staring at her feet, still not looking at him, but gods, he was staring at her. She was so beautiful, as beautiful the day he’d kissed her goodbye.
He had no idea it would be the last time he’d ever feel her lips on his.
Tomas emerged again, a black backpack slung over his shoulder, keys in his hand. He didn’t look at Nesta, just brushed past Cassian as he left, shoving him with his shoulder.
After a few seconds of silence, Cassian cleared his throat, but Nesta spoke first. “I heard you were back in town.”
“Didn’t try to call though,” Cassian said, the words not as hard as he intended them to be. He stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him.
Nesta sighed and said, “I’ve been busy. Would you like some coffee?”
So formal. So polite. So unlike the firey girl he’d loved.
“You know, why I’m here, Nes,” he breathed, the familiar nickname falling from his lips. Before she could respond, he added, “Where is he?”
Her eyes fell closed and she rubbed at the spot between her eyes, just like she’d always done when he did something to infuriate her. “At school. It’s noon on a Tuesday.”
Of course he would be at school. Cassian hadn’t even thought about that on his way over. For a moment, he didn’t say a thing. Instead, he waited, waited for her to say something, anything, and when she didn’t, he was shaking his head.
Before he could speak, before he could blow up, Nesta asked, again, “Coffee?”
“I don’t want coffee,” Cassian said, quietly.
“You used to love coffee,” she pressed.
“I still do, I don’t want any right now.”
“Let me get you some coffee.” She was walking away before he could protest, yet again.
He wasn’t sure what to do, so he followed her down the hall, into the kitchen.
She was fixing a pot of coffee, refusing to meet his eyes still. 
“Nesta-.”
“How have you been?” she asked, the question rushing out of her as she pressed start on the coffee maker. 
“How have I been?” he repeated, exasperated.
“Yes, Cassian,” she said, pulling two mugs out of the cabinet and proceeding to dump two very healthy spoons of sugar into one of them and a normal amount into the other. “I haven’t talked to you in five years, I’d like to know how you’ve been.”
He blinked, not only at the fact that she still remembered exactly how to make his coffee, but as the genuine sincerity in her words. “What is this?” He asked, shaking his head. “I don’t understand what’s happening here?”
The pot gurgled as it finished brewing and Nesta pulled the carafe from its base and poured the coffee into the mugs. She picked them up and carefully carried them to the island where Cassian was leaning on his palms. “It’s two old friends catching up.”
The cold laugh left him before he could even think to stop it. “Old friends? Old friends? At least have the decency to call me your ex, Nes.”
She was so calm, as if she’d been expecting this reaction. As if she’d been preparing for this for nearly five years.
“Were we not friends?” she asked, sliding a mug across the island to him.
Cassian stared at her. He opened his mouth, but it soon fell shut, yet again. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t let you in to fight, Cass,” she said, quietly.
Cass.
His old nickname. She used to say it longing, lovingly. Now, it just seemed like an annoyance. 
“I’m not here to fight,” Cassian said, quietly, putting his hand around the mug. “I’m here for answers.” 
“I want to know how you’ve been,” Nesta continued, sipping from her steaming mug.
Cassian knew Nesta. He knew her better than most people. He knew that he would not win this argument. “I’ve been good. Living the fucking dream. Played football, got a degree, decided to come back home. And you? How have you been?”
His words were kind enough, but his tone was clipped, rushed, annoyed. He had no interest in small talk.
“Busy,” she admitted. “Got my degree, too, online though. And I started my own business. Interior design.”
Cassian couldn’t stop himself from looking around. The house was decorated impeccably. “Dating Tomas Mandray, I see,” he scoffed.
She almost spewed coffee across the counter, but she pulled herself together just in time. “Absolutely not,” she said, reaching for a paper towel to dab off her mouth. “He works for me, he balances my books.”
Blinking, his mug halfway to his own mouth, Cassian stared at her. And then he started laughing hysterically.
Nesta was staring at him. At first, she seemed concerned, then she was amused. “Does that please you?”
“I just…” he began, his laughter dying down. “I can’t believe I thought he was with you to begin with.” 
Nesta stared at him for a moment, until his laughter became obsolete. “Why did you come here, Cass?”
Cassian’s smile faded before he said, “You know why I’m here, Nesta.” 
She slowly set her mug down on the counter and looked up at him and sighed quietly.
He asked, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Of course not,” she breathed, her eyes sad. “I knew you would eventually, but you were living your dream. I wasn’t going to be the one to take that from you.”
He stared at her, unblinking and absolutely silent. When he spoke, he didn’t recognize his own voice. “Did you really think that I would care about football more than I would care about my own son? More than I cared about you?”
Nesta’s eyes fell closed and she let out a quiet, shuddering breath. “It didn’t matter, I wasn’t going to let you throw away your life-.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make!” He said, surprised by the elevation of his words, how genuinely hurt he was that she took that precious time from him. Time he couldn’t get back.
“Cassian-.” “No,” he said, before she could say anymore. “You should’ve told me.”
Nesta’s lips thinned out. “If I did, you would’ve dropped everything to come back here, and I just couldn’t…”
Cassian waited, and when she didn’t finish, Cassian shook his head. “Of course I would’ve come home. Would that have been so bad?” 
“Yes!” Nesta yelled, eyes wide. “You were living your dream, Cass!” 
“But you were here, having my kid!” he yelled, the words echoing throughout the empty kitchen.
He turned away, beginning to pace. “Is this why you ended it?” He asked, looking over at her. “So you wouldn’t have to visit, so I wouldn’t find out? Or did you dump me and it was just a happy accident?”
“Stop,” Nesta breathed.  
“I don’t wanna fucking stop!” Cassian yelled. “You had my kid, you were pregnant when I left, and you didn’t tell me!”
Nesta closed her eyes.
“I have been gone for five years, and I had no idea that I had a kid here!” Cassian continued, trying to contain himself, but being unable to.
The front door opened and little feet were hurrying down the hardwood floor towards them. “Mama, there’s a huuuuge truck outside! You have to come-.”
A little boy with blue-grey eyes and dark, curly hair froze as he came barreling into the kitchen, a Power Rangers backpack strapped to his back. Nesta glanced over at the clock, not realizing it was time for the bus to already be here. He slowly made his way to the middle of the kitchen, where she still stood, clutching her quickly cooling cup of coffee. “Are you still working, mama?” He quietly asked, looking at Cassian out of the corner of his eye.
It was a wonder Cassian hadn’t fallen to his knees the second he saw him. His eyes may have been the color of Nesta’s, but the shape was familiar in a way Cassian never thought he’d see. His lips were fuller than his own, so much like his mother’s. But the tan skin, the curly hair that was much longer than he was sure Nesta wanted it to be…
It was like looking into the most precious mirror, seeing a different version of himself, that he never knew existed, never knew he needed.  
“Hi, baby,” Nesta said, at last, meeting her son in the middle of the kitchen and wrapping him up in her arms. After giving him a kiss on his forehead, she asked, “Did you have a good day?”
“Yeah!” He replied. “I had art, and gym, and I learned about the letter Q.”
“Q?” Nesta asked, like it was the coolest thing she had ever heard. “That’s awesome, buddy.”
He looked back at Cassian. “Who are you?”
Cassian hadn’t realized he had been staring, hadn’t realized he had been analyzing every inch of the little man, his spitting image before him.
He was frozen, unable to think of his own name.
“Mommy has been doing some work for him for a while. He’s here to see it.”
His eyes flicked to Nesta, at the save she’d made for him, but at the truth of her words.
He cleared his throat and rounded the island, crouching down in front of him. “My name is Cassian.”
Those little eyes scrutinized him, with a look he’d seen from Nesta a thousand times, and he tilted his head to the side. Finally, he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. His words were clipped. “Rhett.”
Nesta warned, “Everett Gideon.” His eyes turned up to look at his mother and he found her looking back at him, an eyebrow raised. “Manners.”
He stood up a little straighter and when he looked back at Cassian, he could see a familiar spark of mischief in those eyes. “My name is Rhett. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Cassian said. “I like your name.”
“Thank you,” Rhett said, and turned around to storm out of the room.
Cassian watched him go.
“Hang your backpack up!” Nesta called after him. “And take off your shoes!”
Cassian hardly heard her. His son, Rhett. Five years old and probably full of attitude, considering who he was a biproduct of. He wasn’t sure what to think, wasn’t sure what thought to form.
Cassian looked at the doorway he had hurried out of for a long while. Nesta didn’t press. She simply waited, quietly.
After a moment, he breathed, “He… I…” 
He looked away and cleared his throat and Nesta pretended not to see the shimmering in his hazel eyes.
“I don’t know him… He doesn’t know me…” The words were quiet when he finally spoke. All at once, Nesta realized the anger was gone. What was left was a broken man. A father who wanted to know his son. “He’s five and he doesn’t know me.”
Nesta didn’t say anything, just calmly watched him, listening.
His words were soft, sad, when he said, “Did you not want me to know him?”
“Cassian,” Nesta began, but nothing else came out. She sighed and brushed her hair behind her ear. 
“Did you not want me to know him?” Cassian repeated, his voice catching on the words. 
“You had a dream,” Nesta said, simply. “I wasn’t about to ask you to stay.”
There it was. She’d said it before but it hust clicked in his head what she was saying.
Cassian was taken back. “What?”
She wasn’t even pretending to drink her coffee anymore, standing with her arms crossed, a hip pressed against the counter. She was gazing out the window, a faint smile on her lips. She cleared her throat, but when she finally spoke, Nesta’s voice still sounded tight. “You had the chance to do what you’d always wanted, Cass. You were getting to live out your dreams.” She turned to look at him and her eyes were soft. “I couldn’t take that from you.”
Cassian hesitated, unable to sort out his thoughts. “You… I…” He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair. “You knew you were pregnant before I left? With- With my child? You knew you were pregnant with my child and you let me move across the fucking country?”
“Did you not hear what I just said?” she snapped. 
“Of course, I did,” he breathed. “But I’m having a little bit of trouble understanding.”
Her eyes fluttered shut as she let loose a breath. “Do you know how long I’ve known you, Cass?”
Yes. Years. Nearly their entire lives.
“You always wanted to play football. You love it, and you always have,” she went on. “If I told you I was pregnant, you would’ve stayed, or you would’ve come back.”
“Of course, I would have!” Cassian yelled, meeting her eyes.
Her voice cracked as she said, “I wasn’t going to let you throw your entire life away for me!”
The silence settled in the kitchen and Cassian’s heavy breathing as he calmed himself was the only sound.
“I didn’t keep him from you to hurt you,” she said, at last. “I did it so you could do what you loved. I didn’t want you to resent me one day for losing that chance…”
Nesta didn’t have to say what else she was thinking. Cassian already knew.
Or Rhett.
None of this was his fault, yet his parents were screaming at each other in the kitchen, and there was no way he hadn’t heard.
Cassian let his elbows land on the hard countertop and his face fell into his hands.
“Five years,” he whispered, his voice muffled by his hands. “Five years and I’ve been… Damn it, Nesta.” 
There was no anger in his voice, hardly anything at all in his voice. 
“I already told you-.”
“You should’ve told me,” he interrupted, quietly. “You should’ve told me you were pregnant, should’ve told me he was born. You should’ve told me that he existed, Nesta, I have a son. What does he think of his father? That I don’t care? That I abandoned him? That I was just never around?”  
“No, I-.”
“Has he ever even asked?” Cassian breathed. “I mean… I’ve known about him for less than twenty-four hours, and he’s all I thought about, Nes. And, ultimately… I feel like shit. Five years… For five years, I had a kid out there and I missed it. I missed all of it, missed five years of my kid growing up.”
“But you got to do what you loved,” she said, quietly, looking away from him. “You got to play football. We watched you on TV,” she said, a soft laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob falling from her lips. “He loves football, too.”
He’d had it, something in him snapped. He rounded the island and took her face into his hands. “I loved you,” he said, “and you making that decision for me, without telling me, I lost precious years with him. Precious years I could have had with you.”
Nesta’s eyes fell shut. No lie had ever hurt as badly as telling Cassian she didn’t want to be with him anymore. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Of course, there were times she wished he was there. But knowing he was happy and living the life he’d always dreamed of, especially after his hard life… It had been worth the struggle.
“You couldn’t miss out on it,” Nesta said, quietly, her eyes shut. “I don’t regret it.” 
“I do,” he replied, without any hesitation. “I would’ve come back in a heartbeat, would have been a part of his life, a part of both of your lives, and I would have had no regrets, Nes.”
“Maybe not yet.” She shook her head, her eyes still shut. “But you would have regretted it, eventually.”
Cassian knew Nesta, and he knew that she was adamant, that her mind had been made up long ago. There was nothing he could say that would make her believe that she had made the wrong decision, and he knew when to stop trying.
He didn’t take his hands off her face.
“Why did you tell me you didn’t want to be with me anymore?” He breathed.
She didn’t hesitate. “Because I knew it was the only way you’d let me go.”
He was shaking his head. “Damn it, Nesta, I didn’t want to let you go. I wanted to spend forever with you. I wanted to have a family with you.” He let his forehead fall against hers as his eyes fell shut. “I just... I didn’t know I already had one coming.”
Nesta didn’t say she was sorry.
Cassian knew she wouldn’t, knew she would have stuck by what she had done, whether she was truly sorry or not. 
The hesitation in her eyes told Cassian that she may have thought she was sorry, after all.
“I could live without football, Nes.” Cassian whispered. “I could have done without it. It’s a game-.”
“We were young,” Nesta fought, quietly.
“It’s a fucking game,” he repeated, a little more bite in his voice. “Just a game.”
“That game was your life,” Nesta snapped.
“You were my fucking life,” he hissed.
“I won’t ever apologize for letting you live your dream.”
He asked, “And will you apologize for lying?”
Nesta blinked. “About what?”
His words were hard. “For telling me you didn’t love me.”
Shame flashed in Nesta’s eyes. “Of course I am.”
“And what about now?” He breathed.
“Now?” She asked.
“Are you sorry about it now?” He asked. “Do you still love me?”
The words hung in the air between them.
Nesta’s voice was barely audible when she said, “That’s not a fair question.”
Cassian fought the urge to laugh. What the hell did she know about fair? “Answer the question.” 
“I can’t,” she said, her voice breaking as she shook her head. “I can’t.” 
“Why?” he asked, growing frustrated, and he hated being frustrated, because when he was frustrated he didn’t know how to handle it, not well. “Just answer the question, Nesta. Do you still love me?” 
“I’m not answering that,” she repeated, as a tear slid down her cheek.
“Because I still love you,” Cassian continued, pretending she hadn’t spoken, knowing she was still lying to his face. “I still love you, I have never stopped loving you, Nesta.”
“Cassian, we-.”
“Every year apart, every month, every day, I have always loved you. I’ve tried to get over you, I really have, but I can’t,” he breathed. “It’s always been you, it will always be you.”
She shook her head again, closing her eyes in a pointless attempt to stop the tears that ran down her face.
“If you don’t love me, just tell me.” The words hurt, even as he said them. “I’ll keep my feelings to myself, but I want to be in Rhett’s life. Please.”
The fact that he was putting her feelings before his own, putting Rhett above them… “I love you just as much today as I did the day I sent those damn text messages. I didn’t just break your heart that day,” Nesta breathed, looking up into his hazel eyes. “I broke my own, too.”
Cassian leaned down and pressed his forehead gently against hers. “I have waited years to hear you tell me that you love me,” he whispered. “Years.” 
Nesta let out a slow breath.
Cassian’s lips met hers. 
He wasted no time, didn’t even bother with a warning before he was sliding his tongue along her bottom lip. Nesta melted into him, finding just as much comfort as she always had in his arms.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and Cassian lifted her up, setting her on the counter and standing between her legs. He ran his hands up and down her thighs and let one of his hands thread through her hair, and-.
“Mommy?”
Cassian was jumping back and Nesta was pushing her hair back off of her face and dropping off the counter. “Hey, baby. I thought you were upstairs?”
But Rhett’s little gaze wasn’t on Nesta, it was on Cassian. “Why were you kissing my mommy?”
Even Cassian’s quick wit didn’t have an answer for that. Nesta was beet red so he knew she wasn’t going to be any help. He opened his mouth spew some some bullshit to hopefully chill the anger he could see growing in those little eyes, but he was surging across the kitchen and began battering his tiny fists against his stomach. “You can’t kiss my mommy, she’s waiting for my daddy!”
Cassian hesitated, but didn’t move, nor did he bother to ask the child to stop hitting him in the stomach. In fact, he simply put his hands in his pockets and let Rhett punch him again and again and again.
It reminded Cassian of himself at that age.
“Rhett,” Nesta demanded, now that she had regained her composure. “Stop. Now.” 
He was frowning, but he did just as his mother asked. 
“We do not hit,” Nesta chastised. “Now, apologize.”
Rhett crossed his little arms. “No.”
“It’s okay, he thinks he’s protecting you,” Cassian whispered. 
“It doesn’t matter,” Nesta said, not looking away from her son. “He knows better. Apologize, now.”
“But if you’re kissing him, what about my daddy?” He said, and his little lip was wobbling, but Nesta could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry.
Cassian’s heart broke watching the scene in front of him, watching his son. He wished he could say something, do something. But this wasn’t his call. He hadn’t been here for five years. Rhett had no idea who he was. He looked up at Nesta, seeing the battle she was having within herself.
She’s waiting for my daddy.
He realized what Rhett had said and he blinked once. He was unable to stop the words as he breathed, “You waited for me?”
“Not for you!” Rhett cried again. “For my daddy!”
But for once Nesta didn’t chastise her rambunctious son for screaming in the house. She was too busy looking at Cassian.
“It’s always been you,” she whispered, repeating his earlier words back to him.
Cassian longed to kiss her then, wanted to press his lips urgently against hers, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked down to Rhett. 
“He looks like me,” he whispered, then looked over at Nesta. “Sounds like me.”
“When he’s throwing a fit? Yeah, he does,” Nesta said, quietly, and the smallest of smiles appeared on her lips.
Rhett was still looking at Cassian when he scooted closer to Nesta and wrapped his little arms around her.
Nesta picked her son up, setting him down on the counter where she’d been sitting just a few seconds before. “Mommy’s always told you daddy would come home one day, right?”
He was looking between the two of them, suspiciously. He nodded.
“But that he was busy making sure we’d all have the best lives that we could?”
Another nod.
“Your daddy is finally here, buddy,” she said, softly. She ran a thumb over his cheek. “I didn’t know he was coming-.” A look at Cassian, who at least had the audacity to blush at intruding on her peaceful day and throwing the most amazing wrench into their lives. “But he’s here.”
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snelbz · 3 years
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Light Up the Ice - Chapter 10
Summary: Aelin Galathynius has never really been into sports. Yes, she likes to keep in shape, and she works out, but watching people run up and down a field, trying to keep a leather ball away from each other? It’s always seemed a bit childish to her, and decidedly NOT a way for a grown adult to make a living.
Rowan Whitethorn has recently been drafted by the Terresen Staghorns, one of best teams in the EHL (Erilean Hockey League). And since he moved to Terresen from Wendlyn, it’s been hard for him to get more than 30 seconds alone from someone demanding a picture with him. Getting drafted straight out of college wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he’s not complaining. Until he accidentally meets a girl. More specifically, until he accidentally meets his neighbor. She seems to have no idea who he is and for some reason, that’s refreshing. But will she still want to be with him once he shows her the truth?
Light Up the Ice Masterlist
My Masterlist
Tara’s Masterlist
Co-written with @tacmc​.
Warnings: language, smut - this chapter is 18+.
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Rowan’s phone rang for the third time since he’d made it home from practice less than an hour ago. He had two papers due in the morning and his professors didn’t give a shit if the Warriors were heading to the finals in less than a week. They cared about the history of Wendlyn and its allies.
His girlfriend, however, clearly didn’t give a shit about either.
He answered, his tone clipped. “Hello?”
“You never called me when you finished up.”
He pulled the phone away from his ear and sighed, before returning it and saying, “I’ve only been home for about fifteen minutes. Coach made me spend some extra time in the weight room.”
“You’re going to put on too much bulk if you keep going to the gym,” she said, pointedly. “You won’t get drafted into the EHL if you don’t have the speed, babe.”
Another heavy sigh. “I’m just doing what my coaches say, Maeve. They’ve gotten me this far-.”
“No, Rowan, you’ve gotten yourself this far, with your ability, not your coaches,” she said, and he could hear her getting into the car. “You need to quit going to the gym and focus on your puck-handling.”
When Rowan had met Maeve his freshman year, after Lyria’s accident, he thought dating someone in the sports medicine program would make his life easier. A good distraction from life and his feelings, but the longer they stayed together, the more Rowan regretted ever asking the dark-haired beauty out to dinner.
She’d been great at first. She was as interested in hockey as he was, so he didn’t feel like he was bothering her by asking her to come to his games. But as she inserted herself into his life in more and more ways, Rowan knew that they weren’t going to last.
“I’m leaving my apartment now, I’ll be there in just a bit,” she said, completely ignoring his lack of reply to her suggestions.
He sighed. “I’ve got a lot of homework, Maeve, I really think I should-.”
“You’re in college to play, baby,” she replied with a scoff. “You need to focus on your future, your studies are just a stepping stone.”
This was becoming a frequent conversation between the two of them. Maeve was adamant that Rowan should drop out and see if he could get drafted as soon as he could. Rowan knew that even if he was to get drafted early, one game, one bad hit, one concussion, one injury could end his career. He didn’t just study to ensure he could play for the University of Wendlyn.
He studied because he wanted a backup plan.
Maeve, as single-minded as she was, didn’t understand that. She didn’t understand a thing, not about Rowan, anyway. All she saw was a man that made her look good, a guy that was well-liked around campus and in his hockey community and their group of friends.
“I need to-.”
Maeve was already interrupting him. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
She hung up.
With one last heavy sigh, Rowan closed his laptop and prepared for her arrival.
Rowan pulled out his phone the moment she left. It was on his ear, ringing, as he checked the stovetop clock to see if it was too early to be drinking.
Brello answered on the third ring. “Whitethorn.”
“Hey,” Rowan began, hesitantly. “I-.”
“Did you see the new therapist?” Brello interrupted. “Havilliard mentioned you were planning on getting started today.”
“Aye, coach, I did, but there’s a minor problem-.”
He was cut off again. “You can’t get back on the ice for at least two games, Rowan, I’m sorry. Those are the rules. Just follow the at home therapy routine Dorian left you and you can come back to practice on Sunday.”
“The problem isn’t me not getting to play.” He rushed the words out, not meaning to sound disrespectful, but wanting to speak before Brello hung up the phone. “It’s with the new sports therapist.”
Silence met him on the other side of the phone. “Give her a couple weeks, Whitethorn. I know you were used to Sorscha, but even she says Maeve is highly qualified, and highly recommended.”
“I’m sure she is, but it’s more of a, ah, personal conflict,” Rowan said, pacing around Aelin’s apartment. He’d come back after Maeve was done. Dorian had left a note on top of the stack of paperwork he assumed was his therapy, letting him know he’d headed back to the arena and to call him with any questions.
Another pause. “A personal conflict?”
“Maeve is my…” Rowan cleared his throat. “Maeve is my ex, sir.” Brello was once, again, quiet on the other line. “Sir?”
Brello sighed, long and heavy. “Look, Whitethorn. I respect you, and you and I have never had any real issues. You’re a great player, and a great asset to the team. Because of that, you need to get the hell over your personal issues and keep your eye on the end goal here.”
Rowan closed his eyes. “But-.”
“You need to take the treatment being given to you or you won’t be playing any time soon and that’s final,” Brello said, his voice conveying one thing: that his words were very much final.
When Rowan didn’t answer, Brello’s voice filled the silence, yet again. “Is that clear?”
Rowan’s voice was strong but quiet when he replied, “Yes, sir.”
Brello hung up without another word, which left Rowan standing there, his phone still held up to his ear. After a moment, he pulled it away and looked down at it, at the ridiculously adorable selfie Aelin had set as his lock screen . He wasn’t sure when she’d done it, but he couldn’t help but smile as he looked into her gorgeous eyes.
He froze.
Shit. How was he going to tell her?
Good news, babe, I called the team therapist. Bad news, she’s my ex.
His phone lit up in his hand, taking Rowan by surprise. “Hey, man,” he answered, falling back on the couch. Which was a mistake. He immediately groaned.
Lorcan snorted. “I take it you saw Maeve. I have the same reaction when she puts her hands on me.”
Regardless of the fact that he loved Aelin, regardless of the fact that he could hear the joking tone in his teammate’s voice, Maeve was still his ex. And Rowan hated the feeling that rose in him at the thought of her hands on someone else’s body.
When Rowan said nothing, Lorcan followed, “That was a joke, asshole.”
Rowan cleared his throat. “I know, I was just thinking of how I’m going to tell Aelin.”
Lorcan snorted. “Tell Aelin? Tell her what?”
Rowan blinked, even though Lorcan couldn’t see him. “About Maeve.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” Lorcan asked, without missing a beat.
“Because I’ve learned my lesson about keeping things from her,” Rowan snapped. “Last time it didn’t work out so well for me.”
“Didn’t it?” Lorcan chuckled. “You got the girl, I think it worked out alright.”
Rowan was about to reply, about to tell him that Aelin wasn’t a prize to be won and that he was lucky as hell she decided to forgive him. But Lorcan cut him off. “On top of that, all it’s going to do is make the princess pissy and jealous, which is only going to make her hate hockey more. And I don’t see that working out well for you in the long run.”
Lorcan had begun to call Aelin the princess and Rowan sighed as he used the nickname. “Shit. I didn’t think about that.”
“Exactly. You gotta think long term. You tell Aelin that your ex is your massage therapist and she’s going to be so jealous, she can’t see straight,” Lorcan said, and Rowan could hear the beeps of the treadmill as he picked up the pace.
“Are you at the arena?” Rowan asked, praying that they weren’t having this conversation while Lorcan was around the rest of the team.
He sounded offended when he replied. “Hell no, I’m at home. You know I don’t run at the rink. But speaking of being at the arena, we need you there. Not in the box, not suspended on the bench, and sure as shit not on the injured list. You need to quit this dumb shit with the fighting.”
They’d had this conversation once before but rather than over the phone, they had been in person.
It ended in a fist fight.
Rowan sucked on his teeth. “I promise, it’s done with. Now that I have Aelin back, I just-.”
“Stop, stop with the mushy shit, I don’t want to hear about it.”
Rowan frowned. “You’re a jackass, you know that?”
“I do,” Lorcan said, between heavy breaths. “A fact that I’m proud of.”
Rowan just shook his head. “Of course, you are.”
“Be at the game tonight?” Lorcan asked.
“Yeah,” Rowan replied. “With Aelin.”
“Good,” Lorcan huffed. “Bond, keep her happy up in that box of yours. Keep Maeve to yourself. Trust me.”
Trust me. Those words from Lorcan Salvaterre typically didn’t sit well in the pit of Rowan’s stomach, but Rowan had to admit that this time, Lorcan had a point.
He just got Aelin. He didn’t want to ruin it with petty jealousy coming between them.
Besides, it was just a little, white lie.
Right?
When Aelin got home, she found Rowan on her couch, wearing a very nice suit, that was tailored to immaculately accent his muscular form, watching highlights from the games the night before. Her eyebrows rose as she took him in. “I already feel underdressed and I haven’t even changed yet.”
Rowan chuckled as she set her purse down on the kitchen counter. “If I didn’t have to wear this to games, I wouldn’t. Unfortunately, I don’t get much of a choice.” He stood and met Aelin in the middle of the room. “How was your day?”
“Insanely busy,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and smiling up at him. “But that meant it flew by. So it was good.”
Leaning down to kiss her, he replied, “Good.”
She raised up on her tiptoes and met his lips with hers before pulling away and heading for her bedroom. “I need to get ready, come tell me about your therapy appointment today. You look like you aren’t hurting as bad.”
Rowan rubbed at the back of his neck, but waited until she had rounded the corner to answer. “Nothing of consequence happened. Got the massage, my trainer gave me some physical therapy exercises to do at night, and relaxed the rest of the day. Just like I said I would.”
Rowan walked into her room and found her in the bathroom, piling her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. She looked at him in the mirror and raised an eyebrow. “Nothing of consequence? You sure about that?” She asked, before reaching for her makeup bag underneath the vanity.
Rowan swallowed hard, the abrupt change in her tone having immediately put him on edge.
How had she found out? Lorcan was the only person he’d told about Maeve. Rowan was fairly sure that he hadn’t said anything, since Lorcan didn’t even want him telling her himself.
“No, nothing,” he replied. “A pretty boring day, honestly.”
Aelin ran a spoolie brush through her brows, but smirked and said, “Liar.”
Rowan’s blood went cold.
The smile on her face surprised him until she said, “You didn’t tell me Dorian was your trainer!”
He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He chuckled and scratched at the stubble on his jaw.
“We’ve known each other for years,” Aelin went on, checking herself out in the mirror. “He’s such a good guy. I didn’t even know you knew him, which is ridiculous, considering how often I talk to Dorian.”
“Yeah, he’s great,” Rowan said, nodding along. No more questions, please, no more questions.
“Maybe we’ll see him at the game tonight.” Aelin reached up on her toes and gave Rowan a kiss on the cheek. “Let me change and touch up my makeup, then we’ll go?”
Rowan cleared his throat. “Sounds good.”
Rowan had hung his jersey on the door so Aelin could wear it, but after holding it up to her frame, it was agreed that it was far, far too big.
“We’ll get you another one from the Pro Shop when we get to the arena, get one in your size, yeah?” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she pouted about being unable to wear his.
She tossed on a light jacket and they were out the door. True to his word, as soon as they emerged from the stairwell leading from the staff and player’s garage, Rowan took her into the Pro Shop, much to the amazement of the crowd inside. They were hardly stopped though and a handful of minutes and one Jersey purchase later, they were all alone. The privacy of the box was a nice reprieve for Aelin. She was not used to being stared at for such long periods of time and she found she didn’t much care for it.
“Is this always how it is?” Aelin asked, as she sat her purse in one of the chairs. “Everyone being starstruck?”
Rowan shrugged. “Only when I’m here. I’m rarely recognized elsewhere. You know, unless they’re diehard hockey fans.”
“Which explains why I didn’t know who the hell you were,” Aelin chuckled.
Rowan grinned. “I liked that about you.”
Aelin smiled and walked toward the open end of the small room, facing out over the ice. The plush chairs were set far enough back that unless you were standing right on the railing, you couldn’t be seen. But the railing is where Aelin ended up and she whispered, “It’s so much to take in.”
The arena opened up before them. He knew exactly what she meant, but on a completely different scale. He’d ruined two hockey games for her though, and he wanted her to enjoy this one.
“Do you want a drink?” He asked, brushing a long, loose strand of hair behind her ear
“Yes, please,” she smiled. “A Jack and Coke.”
He nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead, before placing their order on the small iPad on the counter. A beer for himself and her drink, plus miscellaneous things they could snack on.
“So what do you want to know about hockey? He asked, after they’d sat down on one of the many plush loveseats. The box could seat as many as twelve, but Aelin and Rowan weren’t complaining about their privacy. He wrapped his arm around her and drew small shapes on her shoulder as he watched his teammates warm up.
She shrugged, snuggling into his embrace. “I’m more of an ‘ask as you go’ type of person. I’m sure I’ll think of something though.”
Rowan snorted. “Fair enough.”
It wasn’t five minutes later that someone showed up with their drink order and appetizers, then politely left them alone.
Aelin took a sip from her drink as she watched the players skate gracefully around the ice. Aelin could faintly remember the last time she had been on ice skates, she couldn’t have been older than ten.
And she hated every second of it.
She had constantly fallen down and her ankles were sore as hell afterwards. After that, she had never wanted to go ice skating again. Even if she found the sport beautiful.
Hockey players skated in an entirely different way, though. They were brutal, ruthless, but still so graceful with every glide of their skate.
“You look mesmerized,” Rowan muttered, cup of beer tipped against his bottom lip.
“It’s…intense,” she admitted, trying to follow just one of the little black pucks sliding across the ice as the players warmed up.
“It is,” he said, focusing on the activity below. He watched as his line followed through the warm ups he did with them every night. It felt so foreign to be up here, so far from the ice, instead of with them.
Aelin’s hand rested on his arm. He tore his eyes from the ice and the figures gliding around.
“You really do love this game, don’t you?” Aelin asked, smiling at him.
He paused and gazed back out over the ice. “More than I can explain, Aelin. Hockey… It may just be a game to some people, but it’s my entire life. Everything I am, everything I have, I owe to this sport.” His pine green eyes caught hers when he turned back to look at her and he cupped her face with one hand. “You have no clue how much it means that you’re here with me, darlin’. Thank you.”
Aelin melted. “Thank you for asking me to come with.” He took her hand in his and she chuckled as she ran her thumbs over his knuckles. “I can honestly say that I wouldn’t have come to a hockey game with anyone else.”
Rowan snorted. “Fair enough.”
The game began and Aelin wasn’t ashamed to say that Rowan had to explain every little thing that happened.
When the crowd would cheer, she’d try to decipher what had happened. When they’d yell and boo, she’d try to observe the game. It didn’t help that she couldn’t see the puck, sliding across the ice at ridiculous speeds. More often than not, she’d have to ask what caused the reaction from the crowd. And the goal horn nearly made her spill her drink the first time it rang out, after Gavriel scored a goal on the power play.
He never acted like her questions were a bother, though he may hold up a finger to indicate he needed to watch for a second longer to process what had just gone down. But then he’d grin and explain what happened, or if it wasn’t in the Staghorns’ favor, his brow would crinkle and he’d tell her what went wrong.
Then he’d tell her what he would have done that would have kept it from happening and wink at her, and she’d shake her head, laughing quietly.
She understood the basics of the game, but after her third stiff drink in the first period, Aelin wasn’t really worried about learning the in’s and out’s. There was time for that at a later game and the way Rowan’s warm hand was resting on the inside of her thigh had her focused on something else entirely. His calloused thumb rubbed small circles into the denim of her jeans, but even that touch was enough to ignite something within her.
All the while, her own hand was resting on his leg. Through those expensive suit pants, she could feel his muscular thighs and every time something major happened, he’d scoot forward. The first couple of times, Aelin would write it off as something from the game, but she knew what lie beneath those silk-spun slacks, beneath the boxer-briefs.
Right before the end of the second period, Aelin turned towards Rowan right as he turned to ask her a question, and she felt it.
Rowan’s cheeks were heated. He stammered an excuse out. “There’s a lot of adrenaline running through me, Ace,” he breathed.
He was rock hard inside of slacks.
It may have been because of the game, he may have not been lying, but Aelin couldn’t resist.
“How private is this box,” she whispered, brushing her fingers along the definite bulge in his pants.
Rowan hissed quietly, his pine-green eyes went wide, but his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “No one can get in unless we open the door. No cameras either.”
“Hmm.” The response was quiet and Aelin went back to watching the game, sipping on her drink.
For another few seconds, Rowan watched her, all too aware of the ridiculous hard-on straining against his slacks. The regulation clock ticked down to 0:00 and as the players skated towards the benches for the intermission, Rowan was about to suggest ordering one more round of drinks, when Aelin slid off the couch, settled on her knees, and started undoing his belt buckle.
He didn’t dare move, didn’t breathe. He was perfectly aware of every one of her movements, perfectly aware of where her eyes remained as she unbuttoned his slacks, and moved down the zipper.
Rowan’s jaw hardened as those slacks slid down, just to the tops of his thighs. His cock stood proud.
Her hands were like ice, frigid, thanks to the arena being, well, literal ice, but he didn’t care. Not when her touch made him feel like he was on fire. She stroked him, slowly, carefully, but not like the other night, when she’d surprised him after the shower.
Her grip was more firm, and Rowan could see the lust in her own eyes.
“Does this happen every game?” She crooned, spreading his legs wider and scooting in closer.
His eyes fell closed of their own accord and he nodded. “Mostly all of them, aye.”
“Hmm.” Once again, a short, quiet answer. He didn’t have to press her through. She continued, “And you usually take care of it yourself?”
His eyes opened and he looked at her. He nodded once.
“Maybe I should come to more games then,” she said, smirking. He groaned softly, and she leaned and pressed a soft kiss to the tip, before looking up at him again. She was almost sure he wasn’t breathing, but his eyes… His eyes burned for her.
He cleared his throat, and his voice was husky when he said, “I can get pretty…rough after games, baby. What we do out there, it’s a pretty aggressive sport.”
Aelin ran her tongue along the underside of his cock, from the base to the crown at the top, which glistened with Rowan’s precum. It was practically begging for her lips around it. “What if I told you I like it pretty rough?”
Rowan had to fight the urge to take her then and there.
“Nothing to say to that?” Aelin crooned, her grin wild and mischievous.
“Wouldn't be the first time you’ve left me speechless,” Rowan answered, attempting a joke, but his voice was far too rough for humor.
“I call that a success,” Aelin breathed, her breath warm against the tip of his cock.
Rowan fell back in his chair as her lips wrapped around him, and he couldn’t stop his hand from slowly reaching out and gripping the back of her head, her fingers tangling themselves into her golden locks.
Twice now, he’d had Aelin’s mouth on him, and twice now, he felt as if the blood in his veins had turned to fire. He tugged on the strands and Aelin’s turquoise-and-gold eyes opened, finding him gazing down at her. As she bobbed her head, taking him deeper and deeper with each pass, a quiet whimper left Aelin and Rowan’s grip tightened on her hair, groaning as Aelin began to work him with her hand as well.
Rowan had the vague recognition of the teams retaking the ice and roar of the crowd, but his sole focus was the woman on his knees before him, worshipping his cock.
He began to hope that his words before had been true. Hopefully no one would walk in. Hopefully, no cameras would find a way to catch them. Then again, did he truly care?
No.
The feeling that swept through his body made him not care a single bit.
“Aelin,” he breathed.
He could feel her lips curve upward as she worked him.
He growled, “Fuck the rest of the game,” and pulled himself from Aelin’s mouth.
He quickly resituated himself and Aelin, bless her, had the foresight to sit back in her seat before standing up. She adjusted her hair and grabbed her purse, asking, “You don’t have to stay the whole time?”
“Didn’t have to come at all,” Rowan said, coming up behind her. He turned her around and tilted her chin up so that she was looking up into his handsome face. “But you do, so we need to go, and we need to get home as quickly as possible.”
Aelin blinked, staring up at him for a moment, shocked by how upfront his words were. The grin that graced her lips though, was one of wicked delight.
“Who says we need to go all the way back home for that to happen?” Aelin whispered, caressing his cheek with the palm of her hand.
Rowan looked around the box, even though they were alone. “Are you saying what I think you are, Galathynius?”
Her grin only grew more feline.
Licking his lips, watching Aelin, Rowan warred with himself inside his head. But he wouldn’t fuck her in a private box at a game.
Not the first time, at least.
He leaned down, his lips at her ear, and breathed, “I want to take my time with you - to learn…every inch of you. And this box doesn’t have the thickest walls. I don’t want to have an audience,” he added as he pulled back and let his lips just barely brush against hers, “when I make you moan, Aelin.”
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