#vamren fanfiction

[born-to-riot]

I Know What You Need

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 7 (Free Day)

Summary: Amren comes up with an unorthodox solution to one of Nesta's problems....and by unorthodox I mean Amren and Varian invite Nesta to share their bed for the night.

[This all was inspired by a message I sent @acourtofladydeath that said: I think there is a sore lack of vamren in the community and shall I fix that by having them invite a third? Shall it be Nesta? Shall Amren show her how to harness her potential by taking it out on a needy overstimulated Varian?]

Found on AO3

What I Want.

Chapter 1 of 2

Looking back, Nesta isn’t quite sure how she found herself in this situation. Well actually that’s a lie, she thinks.  Nesta shifts her weight to her other leg and releases a sigh as she tightens her bun for what feels like the umpteenth time. She has been standing outside the door of Amren’s apartament in Velaris for Cauldron knows how long, afraid to knock. 

In truth, Nesta knows exactly how she ended up accepting her mentor and friend’s shocking proposal. It does not necessarily erase the thin but ever-so-present shroud of guilt and mortification hovering about her. 

“You’re here for a reason.” Nesta quietly reminds herself, keeping her blue-gray eyes locked on the unopened door in front of her. 

In a thin, black  robe, Nesta Archeron stands tall. Made ornate by the roses and thorns sewn into the neck line, the silk clings tightly to her skin. Amren had asked–or actually she more so demanded–that Nesta arrive here tonight dressed minimally, so she had. As she, Amren, and Varian have all gone over several times prior to tonight, the scene will start as soon as the tiny fae opens the door. 

“It might help if I knock on it first.” Nesta murmurs to herself.

It's been six months since the end of the war with Hybern and to be honest, Nesta has not been in the best place with her mind, her friends, or with her power. She’s not even going to start on the whole weird connection she feels with Cassian. The male has been super frustrating as of late and honestly, all Nesta wants to do anytime he comes near her is punch him in the face. More pertinent to the present matter at hand, Nesta feels like she’s been swept into a world she wasn’t ready to understand and placed into a body that she doesn’t fully know. She wishes she could take this transition in stride like Feyre. Recently, even Elain is doing better than she is. But instead Nesta feels like she is shriveling down to a fragment of herself, cowering under the weight of the unknown, from the fear of what has already happened, and the terror of what is coming next. 

But alas, Amren has offered a possible solution, albeit an unorthodox one, to address some of her problems and Nesta would be foolish to deny this opportunity as not only it is much better than bedding random males every night, but also she is hopeful that she will be able to feel whole again after tonight. 

“Come on, Nesta,” she tells herself, “Still, she refuses to acknowledge that her hand is most definitely shaking as she slowly raises it in preparation to knock on the red-painted door that stands between her and something that she knows she will never be able to come back from. 

Nesta has to remind herself to keep breathing when the door swings open in front of her, her hand still raised in front of the now empty space. Not even a millisecond later, Amren appears in the doorframe, clad in sheer white oversized button down shirt, which–if Nesta wasn’t too busy attempting to stop her jaw from literally dropping at the mesmerizing sight of Amren’s elaborate lingerie set peaking through the frame provided by the unbuttoned shirt–she’d put her money on it being Varians. She doesn’t spend too much time pondering that thought, however, as Nesta is also currently trying to remedy the usual image of the harem-pants-wearing and fear-inducing tiny gremlin of a fae with the ethereal vision in front of her currently. 

Amren is intimidating enough on her own; however, the additional height of her thigh-high seven-inch platforms brings her just a couple inches shy of Nesta’s own height and the closeness of her ancient silver hues makes Nesta’s heart start racing even faster. As Amren clearly is taking her time in assessing Nesta, she takes her own time to try to decide if she wants to top or be topped by the little fae in front of her. 

Nesta isn’t reluctant to admit that she has not ever spent much time thinking about Amren’s breasts other than the fact that they were small. Now though, as she sees them held in an overbust mesh black steel boned corset, she can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like in her palms. Nesta also hasn’t given too much thought to women before in regards to the matter of sexual preference. In her defense, when she was still human she was mostly surrounded with women that were either related to her or were members of the blasted ‘children of the blessed’. She supposes she will have to be thankful that the whole ‘being dunked in a magical cauldron against her will by an egomaniac’ ordeal has allowed her to explore a wider avenue of carnal opportunities than she ever could have imagined. At that line of thought her traitorous brain and heart work together to form an image of a certain large red-siphoned Illyrian male and Nesta quickly shuts that down. Tonight is not about him, she reassures herself, it's about her. 

Fortunately, there is something about Amren’s ancient aura combined with her ‘wiser than thou’ attitude that Nesta finds infuriating but at the same time inexplicably attractive. Amren lets out a purposefully audible sigh, shifting her weight onto her other leg and placing her black fingerless glove covered arms on her hip–barely visible past the rolled-up sleeves of Varian’s shirt. Still, the movement draws Nesta’s attention to the many rings on her finger–unsurprising–and the tiny fae’s manicure, her nails filed to such sharp tips they appeared to be claws. Not only that, but the movement adjusts the oversized shirt she was wearing over her lingerie set and now Nesta can’t stop the thrum of interest that rises inside of her as her eyes lock onto the bare skin of Amren’s pussy, which is on display through her crotchless mesh and lace panty. 

“You’re late,” Amren’s voice shocks Nesta out of her self-induced stupor. She immediately lifts her gaze to meet the unimpressed one evident in the other’s charcoal-lined eyes. 

She opens her mouth to speak–to try and come up with some sort of explanation for herself–yet she finds she is unable to do anything other than audibly choke on an inhale. Nesta closes her mouth, frustrated with herself. She is smart, she is beautiful, she is the eldest of her sisters and she will be Cauldron-damned if she lets herself get flustered by Amren of all people. Nesta straightens her posture and goes to speak again, intending to say something stupid about how ‘You’re lucky I came at all’ just so she could feel more in control of the situation. However, she gets interrupted again, this time though not by her own volition, but instead at the silent raising of Amren’s hand in a ‘stop’ motion. She feels a rise of anger filling her, absolutely furious at the audacity of Amren to just hold her hand up and expect Nesta to stop speaking. How dare she? A voice hisses inside of her, one that Nesta is not too sure is entirely her own, yet she is too caught up in her inexplicable rage to care. 

“I don’t care for excuses, girl,” Amren interrupts her before Nesta even has a chance to voice her ire, rolling her eyes and stepping aside so that she can hold the door open– the action a clear invitation for Nesta to enter the premises. Nesta takes a deep breath, truly trying not to lose her cool at the elder for such a minor transgression and one that is just so quintessentially Amren. However, she nearly loses her composure again when her inner consciousness decides to remind her that ‘she does have a type.’ Nesta is fully aware that she apparently has a metaphorical hard-on for infuriatingly obnoxious assholes–the main culprit of this affliction being Cassian. However, usually, Amren is more of a smartass which keeps her away from the same category as the Ilyrian. Tonight, however, the ancient being seems to be cauldron-bent on trying to antagonize Nesta and for some forsaken reason the slight is turning her on.

Instead of falling victim to Amren’s goading, Nesta inhales the Velaris air one more time before taking a step past the threshold into Amren’s apartment. Upon her exhale, she finds herself in the same lackluster entryway she’s found herself in many times before. Amren, at least given what Nesta has observed so far in the time she’s known her, seems to prefer to save her decor for the deeper areas of the apartment–if she were to wager a guess, Nesta presumes the ancient creature would rather keep her jewels and valuables protected and hidden in contrast to Rhys and Feyre who display their wealth like a peacock does its feathers. Though, she supposes that is their right as the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. Nevertheless, Nesta still takes the time to let her eyes trail across her immediate surroundings. She recognizes the same little alcove to her left that has two emerald green club chairs on either side of a small end table as well as the rest of the entryway, the area being sparse apart from another closed door and a painting of some books. Despite the fact that she’s seen this all before, Nesta feels the hairs on her arms start to raise as her gaze finally lands on the empty hallway in front of her; she wonders if the chill in the air is a foretaste of what is to come of tonight. 

Before she has a chance to determine what side of the scale the omen leans toward, the sound of the door slamming behind her shocks Nesta back into the moment. She whips around to face Amren, who is leaning with her back against the now-shut front door, smirking up at her. While she internally reprimands her subconscious for allowing her to show her back to such a dangerous creature, Nesta would also be lying if she says she did not feel a sense of satisfaction curl within her once she realizes that even with Amren’s heels, Nesta is still taller than her. Of course, this satisfaction doesn’t last, the second Amren lets her grin fall off her face and takes a step forward, Nesta feels as if a veil has lifted from her view, revealing the ethereal being in front of her. Everyone in Prythian knows that Amren is an otherworldly creature, full of knowledge and power. Nesta regrets to think that she thought Amren would somehow become less than she once was after she lost her power in the Cauldron all those months ago. 

“This is your last chance to back out girl,” Amren says seriously, pure silver locked on gray blue, gazing into her eyes so directly Nesta almost feels as if Amren is able to see through her. Nesta is still trying to take in the sight of Amren’s silky black hair framing her sharp jaw-line, her small but supple tits barely visible but clearly evident, her tiny waist and lean muscle both obvious through the mesh and fit of her corset, the color a great contrast against her tanned skin. However, as Nesta eyes Amren’s freshly shaven cunt–the pattern of the lace on her crotchless panties perfectly framing her vulva–she feels her temperature rise with a combination of both desire and ire. Nesta doesn’t give a shit if Amren currently looks like some sort of goddess, how dare she question her surety.

“I know what I want,” Nesta narrows her eyes into a glare and straightens her posture, refusing to look away from Amren’s unusually sober stare. She understands that Amren is just concerned, but she wishes everyone would stop being so careful around her. She used to be able to rely on Amren to be the only one in her sister’s stupid fucking Inner Circle who was willing to be up-front with her.   

“It's not a question of what you want, this is a matter of what you need, girl,” Amren stalks closer to her, her eyes somehow still bright and predatory despite the dimness of the room. 

“There is nothing weak about having second thoughts,” she purrs, starting to circle around Nesta as she comes even closer, like a predator and its prey. 

“Amren,” she snaps, frustratedly, tired of her friend’s game. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be, Nesta bemoans the fact that it seems like the tiny fae truly derives some sick sense of pleasure from making everything ten times more difficult than it needs to be. 

“Patience child,” she shivers at the sound of Amren’s tongue clicking right behind her, the ancient one’s voice sounding displeased. Before Nesta can even process why the disappointment in Amren’s tone causes her heart to jolt, the press of two dangerously sharp nail tips against the back of her neck pause all of her racing thoughts. She fights the urge to flinch as the nails start to slowly drag down the remainder of her exposed spine, pressing into each vertebrae it passes.

“Don’t make a mistake. Just because I allow you to play a dominant role tonight,” the female hisses, her breath warm against Nesta’s ear, the two dangerously sharp tips of Amren’s nails focusing on the vertebrae that sits right above the collar of Nesta’s robe, she continues, “doesn’t mean I’m not still willing to put you in your place.”

The words send a shiver of delight through Nesta, the tickle of Amren’s breath against her ear sends tendrils of electricity that spread throughout her whole body. She can feel the tingles reverberate in her chest and down her arms, until they land, pooling in her breasts. Nesta’s breath hitches and she  as the indent of Amren’s nails start to shift, her nipples hardening at the drag of the claw-like sensation against the side of her throat. She doesn’t even realize that her eyes are closed until Amren releases the grip on her neck, Nesta opening her eyes to find the other in front of her with a distinctly pleased grin painting her sharp faerie features. 

“Understand?” Amren asks expectantly, slowly moving her jewel covered hand to the flimsy piece of string that is holding Nesta’s robe together, causing the more modest of the two to blush. Nesta feels a piece of her strange newly awakened inner soul start to fight at the idea of conceding to anyone. However, she notes the tantalizingly slow speed of Amren’s outstretched hand and appreciates the fact that she is purposefully giving her plenty of opportunity to reject the advance if Nesta was to wish it so. 

“Hmm?” Amren urges Nesta gently to respond, pausing her hand once it reaches its destination, tangling itself loosely in the string. As Nesta eyes Amren, she can’t help but think that this is probably the most considerate Amren will ever be of her wishes. Still, she looks at the hunger evident in Amren’s eyes, thinks about the heat filling her own body, and she knows she can’t put this off any longer. She thinks over the last couple months of angst and seclusion, about how she can barely stand to look at herself in the mirror, the flames in her eyes not feeling like her own.  It’s time she takes the next step for herself. Nesta knows what she wants–no, she knows what she needs to do now. 

“Yes Mistress, I understand,” Nesta replies, inclining her head as a sign of acceptance of Amren’s authority.

“Good girl” Nesta doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that the older’s praise gives her such a clear sense of security. However, it seems she doesn’t have much time to ponder on it further. With one swift movement Amren has rid Nesta’s robe of the tie keeping it together, the fabric falling open to reveal her bare skin underneath. 

“What a treat,” a devilish smirk plasters itself onto Amren’s face as the female eyes her up and down. She has to admit that this, revealing her naked body to her friend, is one of the parts of tonight that she has been most nervous for. Now though, Nesta can only find it in herself to feel pleased as she watches Amren hungrily take in her bare body, her unyielding silver stare seeming to pause on her ample breasts and what’s visible of her cunt. 

“You look absolutely delightful, he won’t be able to control himself,” Amren notes before turning on her heel and heading down the long hallway. Nesta is flattered and somewhat surprised that Amren said so– assuming the ‘he’ in question is Varian– Nesta’s body being a much different build than Amren’s. Nesta has been so caught up in Amren she almost is sorry to say that she might have forgotten about Varian, which is insane because Amren is quite literally letting Nesta fuck her boyfriend to help her feel normal in this new body of hers and to help her gain control of the great power that has been set loose inside her. 

“Come on, girl,” Nesta will admit she barely registers the words that are coming out of Amren’s mouth, her eyes a little busy admiring the other’s well-defined ass. She supposes it makes sense, Amren is strong not only due to her position as Rhysand’s Second in Command, but also just through reputation alone. It would make sense that Amren’s glutes would reflect such strength, which Nesta once again feels bad for presuming that someone so small wouldn’t be able to have a wonderful ass. 

“I won’t be happy if I have to repeat myself,” Amren notes, turning back to look at Nesta over her shoulder, raising a brow. Nesta quickly launches herself into motion, following the other female. As Amren comes to stop in front of one of the doors further down the way, Nesta wonders what lies behind it.

“Let the festivities begin,” Amren quips, opening the door in front of her and stepping inside. Nesta gulps as she follows behind her, not having a chance to see anything other than a dark room and the white of the shirt on Amren’s back before the other motions to her in a request to close the door behind her. Nesta turns quickly then, somehow hoping that the faster she moves the more it will lessen her nerves. As soon as she closes the door she notes that the lighting in the room dims significantly. She takes a second to inhale and exhale, clearing her mind of all of her worries, before finally deciding that she is truly ready to begin..

“What now?” Nesta asks, turning around in search of Amren. 

“Strip” Amren orders, taking the moment to also shed herself of the oversized shirt she had been wearing over her lingerie. 

Nesta takes a moment to assess her surroundings, noting that they seem to be in a walk-in closet. The only light in the room is provided by the flames of various candles throughout the many presumably empty shelves in the room, Nesta admits she hasn’t given the shelves too much attention as she is much more interested in the main focus of the room: a large ostentatious full length mirror. The mirror is absolutely gorgeous and is framed by two hanging lanterns so that whoever stands in front of it will be able to see themselves in lovely detail. So much detail that Nesta finds her nerves creeping up on her again, but she looks at Amren–waiting patiently next to the mirror for her– and slips the sleeves of her robe off her shoulders. The already-opened garment easily slides down the rest of her body and gathers in a puddle at her feet.

“Good girl,” Amren purrs, “now come over here and stand in front of this mirror for me, yeah?”

Nesta nods, trying to keep her eyes on Amren female instead of looking back at her own reflection. The air in the room chills against her now bare skin, Nesta feels the hair on her arms stand as she lessens the distance between herself and her destination. Although, as Nesta takes another step, she realizes that she is not exactly sure if the goosebumps are solely due to the cold. 

“Tell me what you see, girl,” Amren orders her, Nesta finally arriving at a standstill. She hesitates to adhere to the ancient one’s wishes, biting her lip and taking note of the fact that she finds some form of comfort in the familiar face of her friend. It is not like she is a virgin. Nesta is guilty of having taken many random fae males back to her apartment over the course of the past six months. Despite the frequency of the occurrences, Nesta finds it hard to remember anything apart from going through the expected motions. She brings the male of choice to her bed, they fuck, the male goes home, and once again she is left feeling trapped in some suspension of reality–stuck in a time that is between the past and the present, no hope for a future. 

But tonight, in this moment, in this closet, there is no denying the vulnerability that seeps through her every pore. In the candlelight Amren’s silver eyes look radiant, luminous like they were before she sacrificed herself, her power, for them all. Nesta is as guilty as the rest of the inner circle in that they all are waiting for the moment Amren breaks, that she lashes out at one of the others in jealousy, that she can’t take it anymore. But now, Amren stands in front of her more alluring than Nesta has ever found her before. The tiny fae is still leaning against the mirror frame, waiting patiently for Nesta to follow her orders. Nesta looks her up and down, once again admiring Amrens' lingerie–the combination of her heels, corset, fingerless gloves, and crotchless lace mesh panties all working well together to bring attention to her toned legs. Nesta finds herself overcome with jealousy too, that Amren could walk around her own house showing off her cunt so freely. However, she does appreciate Amren’s uncharacteristic show of patience and so Nesta nods at the elder before adhering to her wishes. She turns slightly to face herself in the mirror.

“I see myself,” Nesta answers the question without a thought. She spies Amren frowning at her response from the corner of her eye and Nesta struggles not to do the same. Respecting the process is hard when the process is asking her what she sees in a mirror, what the fuck else is she supposed to see other than her reflection? 

“Try again,” Amren says, clearly displeased. This time, Nesta doesn’t bother to hide her frown. She doesn’t know why she's trying to be polite when she’s here naked in front of Amren. Still, she swallows as she takes note of Amren’s figure entering the mirror’s field of vision, the ancient creature clearly assessing her.

“I don’t know its a fucking mirror, Amren, what else am I supposed to see?” Nesta snaps. She has never been one to hold herself back before, she doesn’t know why she should stop now. Maybe if Nesta demands some answers from Amren, then their night can get started faster.

“I will give you one warning to keep your temper in check, girl,” Amren hisses, the flickering candlelight bouncing off her naturally tanned skin as she approaches Nesta, her figure becoming larger as she gets closer to Nesta. 

“You know what you signed up for, I don’t like brats,” Amren comes to a stop just slightly behind her, Nesta is able to see her claw-like nails rhythmically tapping impatiently upon her cocked hip.

Nesta closes her eyes with a sigh. She does know what she signed up for, and if anyone knows how to deal with being shoved inside a different form it's Amren. She inhales and tries to clear her mind of all her inhibitions, she knows that in order for this to work she needs to step into it fully rather than keeping one metaphorical foot out the door. Nesta opens her eyes, looking straight into their gray-blue reflection as she decides she’s ready to try again. 

“I see…” Nesta trails off, her throat suddenly dry as the mirror confronts her with a bare body, the body that she knows is supposed to belong to her, the body that looks almost the same as it always has, the body that no longer feels like her own. A stranger.

“You see…?” Amren urges her to continue. The heat radiating from her breath tickles against Nesta’s ear, causing her nipples to tingle slightly. She pushes that thought aside though because she remembers Amren has asked her a question..

“I see….myself?” she replies less sure than before, watching her own shoulders hike up in the mirror, noting that her breasts bounce slightly with the motion. Despite the fact that she utters the same response as before, anyone who has two eyes and two working ears would be able to tell that Nesta’s tone is completely different than it was before. She stares at her reflection in the mirror. 

Nesta knows this body, she recognizes her fair skin, she recognizes her golden-brown hair–still tied up in a bun, and she recognizes her sharp jawline. Her ears are definitely different but oddly enough it doesn’t bother her, she supposes it suits her face and she still has her same long neck. As she lets her eyes trail down her reflection further she can see her arms are more toned than before. Her breasts are a tad bit bigger than when she was human too–which she chalks up to the amazing food in Prythian. In her opinion, there is nothing particularly remarkable about her stomach or legs, they are the same size and length as before. Nesta is familiar with this body, so she doesn’t know why she feels so out of place in front of this mirror.

Nesta can’t help but let her eyes focus on her least favorite part of herself: her cunt. It's not like she’s had a lot of others to compare hers to before, but she has always felt like hers was rather ugly. Nesta lets her eyes glance slightly to the right to take a peek at Amren’s cunt where it's peeking through her crotchless panties in the mirror. The ancient fae’s pussy was free of all pubic hair, her vulva looking smooth. Based on the fact that Nesta doesn’t see any signs of Amren's inner labia, she assumes that Amren is one of those lucky bitches with shorter ones. Nesta glances back to her own, her own pubic region is covered in hair in addition to her inner labia hanging down to where they are visible in her reflection. 

“Good enough,” Amren, thankfully, interrupts her negative spiral of thoughts. Nesta is also grateful that Amren accepts her answer, probably able to sense the change in Nesta’s energy. 

“On your knees!” Nesta didn’t even notice Amren move before she felt a distinct boot-like pressure on the backs of her knees, causing them to buckle. Before she even has a chance to be upset about this turn of events, she feels Amren’s hand grip the back of her neck, focusing Nesta’s attention back on both of their reflections in the mirror.

“First, we’re taking care of this pesky bun,” Nesta gasps as Amren roughly snaps the hairband she was using, yanking it out of her hair. Nesta can’t even appreciate the tickle of her golden-brown hair falling upon her shoulders, she gasps out a moan as Amren adjusts her grip to include the back of her hair, yanking it back roughly.

“Then,” she uses one of her nails to bring Nesta’s head up to face her. From this position, Nesta has a really good perspective of Amren's vulva, her dark inner labia symmetrically framed by the beautiful lace of her panties. She guesses she understands now why Amren and Varian spend so much of their time in the bedroom, if Nesta had a partner who looked like that she wouldn’t be able to stay off of them. 

“Listen to me,” Amren continues to speak, adding pressure to her grip on the back of Nesta’s neck, moving the other hand–finger still on her jaw–down to rest upon the column of her now exposed throat, “you are never going to get over this malaise of yours if you don’t acknowledge that you are more now.”

Nesta isn’t exactly sure how she’s supposed to be paying attention to anything other than the feel of Amren’s finger, the sharp edge now tracing down the line of her throat–now that Nesta can actually feel the edges of Amren’s nails, she knows that if Amren wanted she could slice through the skin of her neck with one flick of her finger. Still, Nesta tries to ignore the trail of electricity that seems to be shooting out of wherever her skin makes contact with Amren’s and instead tries to focus on the conversation that she is supposed to be participating in.

“No, I know…,” Nesta starts, the sudden absence of Amren’s grip startles her, “I know-”, she tries to continue, tracking Amren’s reflection in the mirror, the tiny fae keeping her one finger anchored in its position on Nesta’s neck while swerving behind her so that she is now standing behind Nesta’s left side. “I know that I’m… different,” Nesta finishes, trying not to flinch away from the sudden softness of Amren’s knuckle circling the area of skin around the indentation left behind by the sharp edge of her nail. 

“Different isn’t the same as bad, child,” Nesta doesn’t know why the use of the term ‘child’ suddenly bothers her, Amren is so old that it makes perfect sense why she would view all their friends as such. Yet, for some reason, the term strikes an odd cord within her, leaving behind a slight residue of ire. She doesn’t think she is in the place to complain about it now, though. Especially as she both witnesses Amren’s reflection and feels the fae move behind her, now straddling her left calf and hooking her chin over the back of Nesta’s shoulder. Her nipples harden immediately, the combination of Amren’s breath ghosting over her shoulder—breezing past the side of her neck—and of the warmth against her completely nude back transforms Nesta’s body into an oversensitive vessel. 

“I remember when I first saw you, and these,” Amren starts, her arms reaching out from behind Nesta, her tanned hands—peeking out from fingerless gloves—now taking a hold of Nesta’s breasts, “these for sure are different.”

Nesta bites back a moan as she makes eye contact with Amren through the mirror, the other fae having an almost feral grin on her face as she begins massaging Nesta’s breasts. Despite the fact that Amren’s hands are small—not able to encompass the entirety of Nesta’s rather large breasts—she makes up for it with her vigor. Amren starts rolling Nesta’s nipples between her index finger and thumb in combination with the rhythmic pressing of her other fingers, each one making contact with a pressure point Nesta didn’t even know was there.. 

“Mhmm” Nesta moans a response, unable to hold back the effect of the pleasure arising from Amren’s kneading. It feels like there is fire inside her, each roll of Amren’s fingers on her nipples causes a ripple like sensation shooting straight to her cunt, leaving a pathway of sensitivity leading straight to her steadily heating core.

“And this,” Amren says lowly, nibbling at Nesta’s left ear as she releases her grip on her right breast. Both silver and gray-blue eyes track Amren’s hand through the mirror–watching as it disappears behind Nesta’s back briefly. 

Nesta loses track of the room around her as she feels two of the pads of Amren’s fingers press ever-so-lightly against her spine between her shoulder-blades. This teasingly light touch combines with a particularly well timed squeeze of her left breast, triggering another round of the spark-like sensation inside her. Nesta tilts her head back to the right almost subconsciously, her body submitting to Amren and readily exposing her neck. She ignores the inner rage that emerges from that same deep  place as before, especially when she feels Amren’s fingers start to trail their teasingly-light touch down her spine–the fae seemingly enjoying the feel of the dips and ridges between her vertebrae as she makes her way down. 

“This is your greatest error,” Amren ghosts the words over the exposed skin of her neck, Nesta shivers at the sensation. 

“What is?” Nesta asks, she internally curses her ancient friend’s inability to refrain from sounding cryptic whenever she speaks.

“This,” Amren repeats, immediately releasing her other breast. Nesta is too confused to register the jiggle of her tit as it settles back into its place on her chest. ‘This’ still isn’t an answer, Nesta thinks. Thankfully though, she isn’t too far caught up into the ‘enigma that is Amren’ to miss the fact that Amren’s right hand is currently resting on her ass, the palm of her left hand–the one that has just released her breast–now pressing on the region of skin just above her pelvic bone. 

“How dare you deny this cunt as your own,” Amren demands. Nesta gasps as Amren moves her hand that is resting on Nesta’s ass down to cup her vulva from behind, igniting a whole new round of heat inside of her. Nesta can feel Amren’s fingers tangling themselves in her pubic hair, she can see the tips of Amren’s nails in the reflection from the mirror. 

“I-I didn’t tell you that,” Nesta stutters, the heat of Amren’s hand below making it difficult for Nesta to retrieve her thoughts, her clit throbs in anticipation and she can feel the distinct sensation of wetness starting to build up inside of her.  

“I know,” Amren smirks, Nesta making eye contact with her reflection, “But you poured your soul out into this mirror, girl. I can tell, that’s why I know exactly what I need to do to fix you.”

Nesta can’t even begin to try to wrap her head around that sentence; as soon as Nesta opens her mouth Amren presses her palm harder into Nesta’s front, causing a loud moan to escape her lips instead of whatever it was she intended to say as the added pressure discharges quivers of pleasure straight to her clit. Nesta is beginning to get the feeling that Amren enjoys making her speechless. 

“And w-what’s that?” she manages to ask, truly desperate to know how Amren is going to fix Nesta’s fractured soul.

“How about you stop asking questions so that I can show you,” Amren replies instead of answering, Nesta pauses, noting that this is the first time tonight that Amren has sounded anything close to borderline impatient. Amren relaxes the pressure on Nesta’s front, seemingly waiting for the younger to respond before she continues. 

Nesta quickly pushes aside the massive amounts of lust that are coursing through her body at the moment and instead makes eye contact with Amren again through their reflections. 

“Yes Mistress, I apologize,” Nesta says dutifully, only feeling slightly bad that she irritated Amren. Still, she knows she made the right move as Nesta spies Amren’s shoulders relaxing as she rehooks her chin over Nesta’s left shoulder.

“Good girl,” she praises. Nesta watches Amren’s eyes flash before she starts moving her left hand up and down Nesta’s stomach. Nesta can do nothing but swallow as Amren starts to move her right hand. 

“Now, are you seriously trying to tell me that these don’t belong to you?” Amren hisses. Nesta jolts as she feels Amren grip the lips of her inner labia, slowly rolling them between her fingers.

“These are nice, full, begging for attention, why do you hate them?”

“I don’t-” Nesta tries to start.

“Don’t lie to me,” Amren cuts her off, igniting another distant unfamiliar rage inside Nesta, one that she does not completely understand. As it seems to keep happening tonight, Amren doesn’t give her a chance to respond as Amren places a particularly strong tug on her inner labia, pulling the lips down before releasing them, the sound of Nesta’s wetness subsequently echoing in the quiet tiny room.

Amren forms two of her fingers into a V, pressing them just outside the area surrounding her clit before she starts massaging the area in a circular motion.

“Fuck.” Nesta whimpers, Amren’s teasing is absolutely agonizing. Nesta’s clit throbs, with the other’s fingers so close, it can’t help but send pulses of need throughout Nesta’s body in time with each move of Amren’s fingers around it. 

“I need you to understand that this power of yours is not something you should be afraid of,” Amren stops the circular motions and instead presses two fingers directly onto her clit through its hood. Nesta swears the pleasure is so intense, it feels as if a fire is rising inside of her. The base of it originates from her core, the smoke rising up to keep the rest of her upper body warm too.  

“It wants to work with you,” Amren lets out a gasp as she starts to grind her own pussy down on Nesta’s leg which she has been stradling this whole time. Nesta bites her lip as she feels the moist beginnings of Amren’s own juices impressing upon her calf. The fingers of Amren’s right hand aren't moving, instead they keep a constant thread of pressure on her clit. Nesta’s poor clit, she can tell it’s desperate for attention, it sends constant pulses as if it is asking her to move to give it some sort of relief from all the stimulation Amren is providing.

Nesta watches Amren through the mirror. She can both see and feel Amren’s right hand splaying out across her stomach, using it for balance as she grinds against her calf and uses her other hand to attend to Nesta’s cunt. Despite the impressive multitasking that Amren already has going on, Nesta notices Amren’s assessing silver gaze is locked on her own, as if Amren is waiting for her to realize something. 

What though? Nesta wants to ask, but she refrains because she knows Amren won’t take it well. But how the fuck is she supposed to know what Amren wants? Amren is older than Prythian itself and Nesta has been High Fae for less than a year. All Nesta knows is that she is more turned on than she has ever been in her entire life, sitting completely in the nude between a mirror and the scantily dressed body of one of the people she feels the most comfortable around lately–which in itself is saying something as it is Amren she is talking about. 

“Look inside yourself,” Amren says as she slows the pace of her gyrations, “can’t you feel that you’re not alone?”

Nesta lets out another moan, closing her eyes as Amren starts driving the fingers that have been fixed on Nesta’s clit around, dragging her clit into a circular path. This, of course, causes Nesta’s hips to jerk into the motion, chasing after the pleasure. She also tries to decipher what exactly Amren means with her statement that ‘she’s not alone.’

It is quite hard to do so though when she feels like there’s a sweltering heat inside her body, begging for escape. Nesta has been horny before, she knows what it feels like. Cauldron knows that she has been a victim of it tonight. Fortunately, thanks to the overstimulation that Amren is so happily providing, Nesta is able to take a deeper look at what’s going on inside of her. 

Nesta closes her eyes, trying to center herself past the pleasure that’s overwhelming her senses. As she inhales, she ignores the rocking of Amren’s pussy back and forth on her calf, she ignores the sting of her painfully hard nipples, she ignores the rhythmic squelching coming from her own pussy as Amren’s hand keeps her lips in motion and pressure on her clit, Nesta ignores it all. As she channels into her soul, deep inside her, Nesta realizes that Amren is right, once again, she is clearly not alone. 

It’s a hard thing to describe, a soul. Nesta certainly isn’t expecting to find hers feeling like it's coated in some sort of substance similar to live-wire. It definitely seems to be working in overload–constricted behind some sort of mental block–the area around it seems electrically charged. She tries to paint a mental picture of it, of this charged substance locked deep inside her persona. Nesta thinks it could best be described as a worn steel cage that just barely contains a ball of pure energy. For some reason, Nesta’s gets a sudden feeling if something other than her tries to reach out for it, this hidden piece of her soul, fire would lash out through the holes in the cage, almost like an intentional solar flare. She mentally reaches towards it, trying to catch a read of it–and inwardly gasps as she realizes she recognizes it. 

“By the Cauldron,” Nesta gasps, coming back to the present with a jolt, the shock of her realization causing her to sit back on her calves–a space in which she notices Amren is no longer occupying–not being able to kneel properly any longer. She’s definitely sweating, she can feel its sheen gathering upon every inch of her body.

As she struggles to catch her breath, Nesta remembers something that Amren had said when she first was explaining the benefits of this whole ordeal to Nesta.

“Every being in this world has the potential for magic, child. Even some humans if they so chose to tap into that part of themselves. Its residue lies along the lines of the needs that unite all living creatures in all the worlds–eat, sleep, fuck. Your walls have been built too high, girl. It’s time we break them down.”

“Don’t you see now?” Nesta snaps her attention towards Amren, the female now standing, pressing her weight against the side of the mirror–one heeled boot crossed over the other–and inspecting the nails of her right hand, the one which had just been intimately involved with Nesta’s folds. 

Nesta decides to ignore the fact that she has no idea when Amren even left her prior position behind her. She’s so close to understanding what’s going on with her, she can taste it. She doesn’t even care that Amren stopped touching her right before she would have most definitely orgasmed–well, she does a little… a lot, but gaining control of herself and her power is much more important, she reminds herself.

“It’s my magic…” Nesta breathes, moving her hands to the floor behind her to support her weight. 

“It’s my…” Nesta trails off, noticing her own flushed appearance in the mirror.

“Yes,” Amren answers, redirecting Nesta’s attention back towards her, “it’s You, girl.”

This time, Nesta’s ire in response to Amren’s addressment of her is much more palpable, she can feel it crawling under her skin. How dare she, her inner voice speaks, louder than ever before.

“And Nesta,” Amren calls and Nesta turns her attention back towards her immediately, shock coloring her cheeks further. She can count the times that Amren has used her actual name on one hand. 

“Yes?” she asks before she has a chance to take the vision of her in, heart freezing as she registers what Amren is actually doing. 

Amren, still radiant in her lingerie, isn’t even looking at Nesta. Instead, she has her eyes closed, head tilted back against the edge of the mirror frame, and is actively humming. Nesta can do nothing but watch as Amren lifts her index and middle fingers–the ones belonging to the hand that the female had been inspecting previously–and brings it to her plump red lips.

Amren opens her eyes then, and Nesta once again finds herself trapped in the other’s primordial gaze. Amren moans again as she pushes them past her lips, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks on the digits before pulling them out–the action releasing a wet popping sound that seems very loud in the tiny room, the only other sound being Nesta’s increasingly rapid breathing.

“It tastes good,” Amren replies simply, as if she didn’t just do one of the sexiest things Nesta has ever witnessed, “you, taste good.”

“I’ll be right back,” Amren says, disappearing behind the mirror–the one that is so large that Nesta didn’t even know the closet extended further behind it until just now. She doesn’t really care about her abrupt departure though, not when Amren’s words have just launched her into what feels like a state of estrus. 

There is a new wave of boiling heat inside of her. Nesta knows that this heat is different, it almost stings yet it is somehow still satisfying, it’s comforting, and it vibrates against seemingly every possible organ inside her body. She can do nothing but gasp as she feels her magic finally free itself from its steel trap. This power, her power feels just right inside her veins, like her heart needs it just as much as it needs oxygen. 

It’s about time, the magic chides her, and Nesta is overcome by feelings of regret. How could she have denied this part of herself for so long. She understands why Amren was so insistent upon helping her now, why she had been so disappointed in her. Nesta clutches her breast to try to ground herself as she feels her soul reuniting with her heart underneath the skin. 

Of course though, the serene moment is broken by Amren who throws a pile of clothes at her face, breaking Nesta from her trance. This time, Nesta is ready to snap at Amren, in sync with her newly awakened power. 

“Now stand up!” Amren orders. Nesta tries not to let her temper get the best of her as she slowly rises, still able to feel the other’s wetness from where it leaked against her calf. Amren speaks again before Nesta actually has a chance to rip her head off, though.

“Put this on, this is taking a little longer than I was initially anticipating,” Amren says before she promptly disappears behind the mirror yet again. Nesta’s inner irritation quickly dims as she notes a slight tinge of concern dimming Amren’s usually confident eyes. Nesta remembers then, she and Amren are not the only two participants of tonight’s activities. Where exactly is Varian? Nesta wants to find out.

She quickly puts on the clothes that Amren picks out for her and slips her feet into an expensive looking pair of black stilettos. As she starts to turn around so that she can get a good look at herself in the mirror, Nesta can’t help but ponder about how the hell Amren knows her shoe size. She assumes the tiny fae must have bullied Azriel or someone into finding out the correct size instead of just asking Nesta outright, which actually sounds like a very ‘Amren-type-thing’ to do now that she thinks about it.

Nesta’s jaw drops as she comes face-to-face with her reflection. Amren has dressed her in a black wet-look teddy which features a low cut open bust, a criss cross neck, gold zip up front, cut out sides, criss cross back straps with O-ring details, a tie back, and a cheeky cut bottom. The way the teddy sits on her emphasizes all her curves in the best way possible, Nesta thinks as she raises her arms to adjust her hair. There is no hiding the monstrous size of her breasts with this low cut open bust. There is a perfect path of bare skin that travels from between her tits down to the visible zipper of the front. Fuck, Nesta thinks as she shifts slightly to see the back of the teddy, she looks delicious. The realization causes the already blistering temperature inside of her to somehow elevate even more. 

“If you’re finished getting dressed, come back here!” she hears Amren call from behind the mirror. With the added height provided by Nesta’s heels, she is sure that the size difference between the two females will return to the usual. Still, Amren’s presence is so strong and foreboding–especially tonight–that Nesta would rather die than point this out to her friend. Still, Nesta follows Amren’s order without question and feels a gasp escape her lips as she steps past the edge of the frame which Amren has been hanging around all night. 

“Oh my,” Nesta can’t help but say as she takes another step into the hidden part of the closet that she and Amren have been spending so much time in this evening. Lining each and every single shelf in front of her is the widest variety of sex toys that Nesta has ever seen. She always suspected that Amren was a hoarder, however, when she first formed that suspicion Nesta was thinking more along the lines of jewelry. She is not entirely sure what she should make of the display of dildos, paddles, chains, straps, vibrators, and plenty more in front of her. 

“Wha-How long have you been collecting all of this?” Nesta asks, unable to stop herself. She turns towards Armen who has been waiting for her, leaning against the only wall in this little hidden area without any shelfs occupying it.

“I’ve been alive a long time,” Amren replies, mirth filling her gaze. Nesta considers that to be a fair response.

“Anyway,” Amren starts, pushing herself off of the wall and strutting forward until she stops right in front of Nesta, “pick what calls to you, girl.”

“Excuse me?” Nesta asks for clarity while trying to keep her inner beast in-check. Nesta doesn’t even know where to begin. However, she remembers that this isn’t her first time racking her mind to try to find something that Amren has told her to, Nesta thinks back to when she was trying to feel out the location of the Ouroboros. She also ignores the utter ridiculousness of Amren’s request, does she really want Nesta to tap into this great power of hers just to find the perfect sex toy? One thing she has learned throughout her relatively short time being friends with Amren is that the other female always has her reasons. Nesta supposes she will try to do as she’s asked.

“It’s quite simple. Your magic is awake now, let it guide you,” Amren coos before brushing past Nesta, purposely bumping into her shoulder as she passes by. 

“You look great in that by the way.” Nesta jolts as a quick slap meets the flesh of her ass, turning around to find Amren laughing. She will not deny she enjoys the warmth that emerges from the affected area of her skin after the impromptu spanking. However, Nesta eyes the other female with a glare, she swears she’s never been more willing to attempt to tear Amren's throat out then she is right now. Nesta isn’t even entirely sure why, usually her subconscious would make itself known at this point to try to guide her away from such a rash decision. However, now that her soul is complete, Nesta cannot feel anything within her aside from a pleased rumble of agreement. 

“How will I know?” Nesta asks, turning back towards the treasure trove of sex toys displayed before her. 

“There is only so much I can tell you, try trusting your instincts,” Amren answers softly, the sound of her footsteps echoing as she takes a couple steps back, clearly giving Nesta space to work with.

Nesta inhales a deep breath before exhaling softly, closing her eyes so that she can try and concentrate. Nesta lifts her hands–palms up–and holds them there, her elbows remaining in a position at about the same height as her waist. She tunes out the room around her and focuses in on the flames that have been joyfully traveling around her body ever since she finally accepted their presence, she focuses in on her power, tapping into the electric bundle at her core and then refocusing her energy on the area in front of her. 

As she mentally scans the toys with her power–eyes still closed–she hopes that she is able to tap into whatever instincts Amren is referring to. As she keeps scanning though, she feels the electricity inside her getting more painful as she gets closer to a certain area. Here, Nesta knows where to go. She keeps her eyes closed as she moves in that direction, each step causing the stinging to travel to a new area of her body. Finally, Nesta opens her eyes as her stiletto covered toe meets the edge of the shelf of toys.

The sight of a black riding crop makes her mouth water, yes this, we need to use this, we need to keep others in line. To make things even better, the crop had a beautiful diamond encrusted handle. Before she has a chance to pick it up, Nesta realizes her power isn’t done screaming at her, something more, we need something else. 

“I need to pick another,” Nesta turns her head over her shoulder slightly to make eye-contact with Amren, noting that her silver eyes blink slightly in surprise before she shrugs her bare shoulders.

“As I’ve been saying the whole time, listen to your instincts,” Amren steps back up to the shelf next to Nesta, gesturing for her to carry on with her business as Amren picks up the riding crop to hold for her. 

Nesta turns back around to follow the second trail of sparks that had been nagging at her. Only after she picked up the riding crop did Nesta actually realize that she was meant to be following two different paths. Not that it matters anymore, now she knows what to do. Nesta doesn’t even bother to close her eyes, instead she makes her way straight for the shelf of strap-ons, her sights locked on this massive red dildo. 

Nesta is a bit confused though once she gets closer, although it satisfies her instincts–the fact that this is the thickest dildo she has ever seen in her life makes her clit throb–she can’t help but notice the inside of it is hollow. Nesta picks up the toy and turns back around again to ask Amren what it is.

“Oh!” Amren’s eyes light up in delight as she eyes what Nesta is holding, “I haven’t had a chance to use that with him yet, this is wonderful!”

“Why is it hollow though?” Nesta asks, a bit nervous about the fact that she thinks Amren actually skips as she makes her way over to grab the toy from Nesta. She also tries not to focus on the fact that she thinks this is the most excited she has ever seen Amren outside of her talks with Lucien about whatever sport it is that they both like. 

“Oh child,” Amren starts, the term once again annoying Nesta and causes her to roll her eyes, “this isn’t a strap on for you.”

Nesta shoots her head back up at the ancient one’s words. Oh?

She eyes Amren, who is stalling at the edge of the mirror frame.

“It’s for him,” Amren grins at her, a mischievous spark in her eye. Nesta feels another wave of heat wash over her entire body as she imagines the implications of this knowledge. However, Nesta also gets hit with a sudden sense of insecurity as Amren leaves the hidden section of the closet.

“Amren, I have a question,” Nesta calls out as she follows her. As she crosses into the other section, she spies Amren placing the toys that Nesta has selected in one of the empty spaces on the shelves between candle displays, the tiny fae’s back turned away from her. Amren sighs and lets her head hang forward before turning around to meet Nesta’s gaze. 

“What is it now, girl?” Amren is no longer hiding her impatience, not even bothering to reprimand Nesta for failing to call her Mistress. Nesta doesn’t feel bad though, how could she when she finally feels like she belongs in her own body. There is one question she still needs to ask.

“How do I know that this magic is truly my own? How do I know this was meant to belong to me?” Nesta has never felt better or more like she belongs in her body than this moment in time, she is just worried that this is a trick, that it won’t stay that way, that she’s not strong enough.

Amren glares at her as soon as Nesta finishes spitting out the question, visibly incredulous that she had the gall to even ask the question.

"I have watched many a reign come and go girl, you dare question me?" Nesta gulps as Amren storms up to her, no longer teasing in her grip as she grabs Nesta’s arm and swings her around so that she faces the mirror again. 

“I thought we went over this already but let me try to explain it one more time,” Nesta sees Amren frown through the reflection, the tiny fae standing on Nesta’s left side this time rather than behind her because of the added height of Nesta’s stilettos. 

“Close your eyes!” Amren orders. Nesta does. 

“What do you feel?” she asks, holding Nesta at the waist as she massages little circles into the skin of Nesta’s hips, visible through the cutouts of her teddy.

Nesta sighs before emptying her mind, trying to focus purely on her inner core.

“I feel fire, it's everywhere. My nipples are hard, my pussy is wet, and it feels like my flesh is being scorched from within, I want-” Nesta cuts herself off. She wants so much. She wants to dominate, she wants to take, she wants to own, Nesta can’t even keep up with all the urges running past her mind, she knows for sure though that she’s never felt more hungry than she is in this moment. 

“Open your eyes, girl," Amren orders just as Nests feels like the fire in her chest is about to break past her ribcage. Again, if it was any other time Nesta would rip her a new one for continuing to call her ‘girl’. Now though, what other option does she have other than to listen?

Nesta opens her eyes and is met with their reflection, flames clearly dancing within her gray-blue hues. 

"Your power wants to work with you,” Amren hisses, splaying one of her hands on the bare skin below Nesta’s breasts, “it's meant for you to wield."

 "Feel this?" Amren presses her palm into the region above Nesta’s pelvic bone, the added pressure sending waves of pleasure towards her cunt, her nipples raging with electricity as they beg for similar attention. 

“Feel how good it aches," Amren whispers, moving her other hand to play with the zipper on Nesta’s front. She cries out a moan as Amren adds even more pressure to the area above her pelvic region, I do feel. 

"Feel how it makes your body cry for more?" she asks, and Nesta is starving. 

"This is what true power feels like girl, this is the feeling that men climb, cry and fight for, but they always fail," Amren brings her lips to Nesta’s ear and Nesta would be lying if she says she’s anything other than horny as fuck. 

"But us," Amren whispers, her soft breath causing Nesta to become somehow even more sensitive than before. Amren removes her hands from Nesta’s lower body and instead brings them up to slide beneath the fabric of her teddy, the cut providing easy access to her breasts. 

"Creatures like you and I…," Amren continues to whisper, squeezing Nesta’s breasts a couple times as Nesta feels even more wetness pool between her folds.

"We will prevail," Amren whispers, leaving a kiss under Nesta’s ear before letting go of her and backing away, out of the mirror’s line of vision. 

“I see” Nesta closes her eyes once more and reflects. She finally thinks she gets it now, at least for the most part. Because how can she deny who she is any longer? Who is she to decide that she isn’t meant to be here? The magic is in her now, it breathes with her and it craves her every waking desire. Her journey in this new world has been like a battle between Nesta’s old beliefs, her family, and the grim reality seemingly standing before her. Now though, Nesta Archeon is done being afraid. 

She opens her eyes only to immediately realize the lighting in the room has changed. The flickering yellow-orange flames from Amren’s candles are no more, in their stead, to Nesta’s utter astonishment, are silver flames, casting the room in a flickering white glow instead. In a similar tune, almost as if her magic is rejoicing at her inner revelation, Nesta feels another round of flames lick up her inner viscera, making her insides feel warm and comforting like a hearth. This body is no vessel, it is her own flesh and blood.

“I believe it's time,” Amren says quietly, softly, like she doesn’t want to accidentally startle Nesta into closing herself off from her magic again.

“I’m ready,” Nesta replies in the same tone, nodding at Amren through the mirror to show her that she is genuinely grateful for her assistance. It is actually quite insane to think that all it took to set her head straight was to be brought to the edge of an orgasm.

“I’ll give you a minute, I’ll be waiting in the hall.”

Nesta inhales as she nods in acknowledgement, once again admiring Amren’s petite figure as the female makes her way to exit the small room. Nesta feels yet another bout of heat spurn within her as she spies Amren grabbing the toys that Nesta has selected to use for tonight before she leaves.

“Remember what you can be, girl,” Amren tosses over her shoulder just before the door slams behind her, setting silence upon the tiny room where Nesta still stands. She waits a moment, listening. Judging by the increasingly quiet clack of the tiny Fae’s heels on the wooden floor, Nesta presumes that Amren is going to place them wherever she has stashed Varian thus far. 

Nesta closes her eyes, reveling in the swirling thrum of sparks inside her, she would like to think that it is her inner beast coming to say hello, she really would. But Nesta is an intelligent woman…an intelligent woman who knows that the jump in her arousal is most definitely because she notices that the strap-on–the massive hollow toy that she intends to use tonight–is close to over half the length of Amren’s forearm. And the thickness… cauldron. She knows that a male-strap-on has to have a certain level of thickness in regards to the girth because it has to allow for a cock to fill its hollow opening. However–Nesta thinks as she opens her eyes, seeing the flames inside them staring back at her through the mirror in front of her–she wonders exactly what type of toy is hanging between Varian’s legs that requires a dildo as thick as her wrist. She is witness to her own reflection as a devilish grin forms on her own mouth–Nesta is more than ready to leave all that was before in this room. 

“It’s time,” Nesta speaks aloud to the empty room. She refuses to let herself cower in the face of power ever again, especially when it's her own. Nesta straightens her posture, taking one last look at her reflection.  

It’s time to take what she needs.

___Preview of Next Chapter____

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry, did we leave you alone too long,” Amren coos to her lover. Varian sits exposed on a simple wooden chair in the middle of the couple’s bedroom. The Summer Court male’s head is hanging low, his white tendrils of hair acting like a shield in front of his face. Nesta did not pick up on any sort of response from the male that indicates that he acknowledges their presence. She takes a quick peek over at Amren and decides not to worry after finding the other female to seem emphatically unconcerned. Nesta watches on silently as the tiny fae takes a couple soft predatory steps towards the subdued male. Nonetheless, she stills to take in the view of the delicious specimen of man in front of her. Nesta can admit fully that she has never really given much thought to Varian before, not really having much time to assess him in the short three months after the war with Hybern. However, now, she can’t seem to look away from the large male’s thick muscular thighs, his heavy cock, his beautiful dark skin–fuck, Nesta feels her cunt throb in anticipation. 

“Baby boy,” Amren releases another coo, causing Varian to finally raise his gaze to meet his Mistresses and causing Nesta to shiver for a different reason entirely. Now, not only does she have a better view of the male himself, a white blindfold and ball gag rendering his sight and ability to speak obsolete; but also she can see his nostrils flaring and his muscles twitching. Nesta is absolutely enraptured in the scene in front of her as she watches Varian suddenly seem to try to lunge in Amren’s direction, the man trying and failing to get closer to her, his muscles bulging in their effort to win a one-sided battle against his restraints.

But it isn’t until Nesta spots Varian’s collar, large and heavy on his neck, that she feels her nipples harden and another bout of wetness starting to form between her folds. Here, on Varian’s neck, in Amren’s apartment in Velaris, is one of the Summer Court’s infamous blood rubies. The massive jewel's weight was supported by a two-inch thick diamond encrusted platinum band. She knows it must sit heavy on his neck, it seems almost impossible that a jewel that large could be fixed upon a collar without falling, yet there it stands.

Last Nesta had checked, the source material of Prythian’s most common nightmares had decided to use this ‘threat’ as a paperweight. Although, she can’t deny how much the pathway to her center steams at the thought of the Summer Court male being made to wear a sign of ownership stamped with the ultimate symbol of betrayal of his own court, an invocation of  a feud on a personal level.  

Nesta can’t help but muse over what the thrill of incurring such a depth of loyalty from another must taste like, she wonders too, greedily and needily what it feels like to be such a fearsome predator to surpass the laws of societal expectation. Is this Amren’s subtle yet personal way of invoking her own feud, a remnant of the possessive creature that once roamed inside of her that is furious at the land for claiming ownership of something that she marked as hers. She also wonders heatedly, enviously, what it would be like to be wanted that furiously. Need starts to play at the strings of her core, she can feel it heating and readying itself for something more.

“Don’t be shy now, boy,” Amren instructs Varian, the man immediately turning his head in the direction of her voice, clearly desperate for her touch. Nesta would be lying if she said the palpable smell and taste of his desperation didn’t cause her clit to start to throb.

The sweetness of the pair in front of her simultaneously puts Nesta on edge as well as incurs yet another thrum of heat inside of her. Amren is never sweet. Nesta watches on as her mentor finally reaches her lover–no, her pet. Amren looks Varian up and down with a hungry gleam in her eye before grabbing his chin roughly, causing what sounds like a gruff moan to escape the large man’s lips. That’s all it took? Nesta thinks to herself. 

“You haven’t even been touched boy and you’re already sweating?” Amren tuts, roughly maneuvering his chin as she gives him a thorough inspection, the male seemingly keening into the contact despite its roughness. Nesta tries not to get whiplash as Amren softly pats the male’s cheek twice with her free hand before letting it drop to rest on her waist.

“Pathetic,” the ancient one scoffs, finally releasing her other hand’s grip on his chin. 

Nesta realizes that the male in front of her is not the same one that has been a frequent guest at their dinner table over the last couple of months. No, tonight she is not looking at the same captain of Tarquin’s guard nor the commendable battle tactician that she has come to know. Instead, Nesta finds herself looking at Amren’s pet. As soon as the thought crosses her mind though, Nesta is hit by a shudder that rolls through her entire body, a shock of a reprimand from something deep in her core, something primal.No, Nesta reprimands herself, straightening her posture as she starts to make her own way towards Varian. Tonight, he is her prey.

_______________________

Tag List: (tell me if you don’t wanna be here) @acourtofladydeath @ofduskanddreams @secret-third-thing @areyoudreaminof @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @queercontrarian @yourlazykitkat @krem-has-a-mess @witch-and-her-witcher @yanny-77 @pippsmcgee @fieldofdaisiies

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[aelin-and-feyre]

Blush

requested by @wrydtoyourmother (sorry for the wait) 110: “You’re like, five feet tall. How you gonna reach me shortie?”

Vamren - modern high school au

Varian should never have let Cresseida know that he likes Amren. It is probably the stupidest mistake he's ever made.

He's known his whole life that Cresseida cannot keep a secret and yet he goes and tells her the one he's been harboring for years. And now... the whole football team knows. And will not stop teasing him about it.

"Amren and Varian sitting in a tree," Two of the guys chant after practice one night. Varian blocks out the rest but he knows what they were about to say.

Another guy slaps his shoulder with a laugh. "I wonder how she'll climax, wonder if she'll show any emotion in bed."

"Amren the Emotionless in bed? That'd be like fucking a slab of wood." A jock down the row exclaims, making Varian grit his teeth. He knows that showing a reaction will just encourage them, but it's hard to sit and listen to them bash the girl he's liked since middle school.

"What do you even like about her, Var? Her smile? The sparkle in her eye when she laughs? We all know you've seen neither." His teammates nod in agreement.

Varian continues to pull on his shoes, refusing to meet their gazes. He is going to kill Cresseida. They keep getting in cheap shots and finally, Varian can't take it anymore. "She's not emotionless all the time." He finally says, and then immediately regrets it.

"Oh? Have you seen her smile, Var? What about blush, have you seen that?" They continue to taunt. Varian clenches his fists, knowing if he confirms of denies, it will just make it worse. He cringes when Tarquin's voice suddenly booms through the locker room.

"What the hell is going on?" Their captain asks, making all heads snap to him. Varian lets out a small sigh of relief that his friend is there, but he's sure how it will all play out.

One of the guys helpfully pipes up, "Apparently, Varian has a crush on Amren the Emotionless."

Tarquin raises an eyebrow in Varian's direction and then shrugs. "What's so bad about that?"

"Well, he also thinks that she's not as stoic as we say."

Tarquin taps his foot, seeing the tortured look in Varian's eyes, and rolls his own. "And if he does? Who are you guys to judge? Besides, maybe Amren does have a soft side." Everyone grumbles their disagreement. "How about this," Tarquin continues. "I bet Varian that he can't get Amren to blush in the next three days. If I win, we get to tell the whole school about his crush." Varian's eyes widen in horror. "But if he wins, we have to leave him alone and each pay him five dollars for making him feel like crap for no reason. Fair?"

The team considers it for a few moments before they all burst out laughing, completely sure that they are going to win and excited to exploit Varian to the student body. They agree to the terms of the bet and finish getting out of their practice stuff, leaving until it's just Varian and Tarquin left in the locker room.

"What the hell, man!" Varian exclaims finally. "I thought you were on my side!"

Tarquin raises his hands in defense. "Hey, I am. I set up that bet so you'll be sure to win. And, not only will you finally show Amren that you like her, you'll get some decent money out of it."

"But that's the whole point! I'll never get Amren to even notice my existence, much less blush at anything I say!" He grabs his white hair in frustration, mad at himself and Cresseida, but mostly Cresseida.

"You'll be fine, in fact, I think this will help you. You will finally be able to get over your silent Amren obsession, no matter how this turns out." Tarquin claps him on the back and starts to leave. "Trust me, this is a better alternative to what would have happened if I hadn't stepped in. Besides, how hard is it to make one girl blush?"

Apparently, it's very hard to make one girl blush.

The next day, Varian is talking with some of his friends, including a couple who had been in the locker room last night when the bet was placed, and suddenly gets violently turned around by two of them. He's about to yell his objection when he sees a small figure walking down the hallway, short hair and confident stride giving her away in two seconds.

Varian doesn't even think before he is suddenly shouting at her from across the hallway. "Hey Amren! You look beautiful today!" He exclaims. Amren doesn't even glance at him, sticking one hand in the air and giving him the finger.

People around him snicker, making Varian himself blush. He curses quietly and then runs up next to her. "Hey, Amren..." He tries again, but her step doesn't falter, her head doesn't move, and she refuses to look at him. "Look, I'm sorry about that. I really do think you're beautiful, I just didn't express it right."

"No, you did not." She responds, her voice like steel. She still does not avert her eyes from what's in front of her.

Varian clears his throat awkwardly. "So, um..." He isn't even able to come up with a filler topic before she turns into a classroom and disappears from view. "Uh, yeah, I'll talk to you later!" Varian says to no one. He sighs and turns back in the direction of his own next class.

The next day, Varian decides to try his luck in the library. He asked one of her friends where she usually hangs out during lunch and, after a round of questions about why he cares, they told him she sits at the table in the southeastern corner of the school library most of the time.

He heads there immediately after the bell rings, hoping to arrive before her, and claims the table in the back. She approaches quietly, Varian pretending not to notice her when in fact he is tracking her every move.

Amren stops abruptly when she glances up from her book to see him sitting at her table. She hesitantly walks a couple more steps until she right next to him. Varian feigns surprise when he looks up at the shadow that is suddenly looming above, staring innocently up at Amren. "You're sitting in my spot." She states, her mystical, swirling grey eyes moving accusingly between him and the chair he's seated on.

Varian smoothly gestures to the three other seats at the table. "You're welcome to sit with me if you like, I just have a lot of work to do so I picked this table in the back for quiet." As soon as her eyes narrow, Varian knows he has said too much.

"You're that guy who catcalled me in the hallway yesterday, aren't you?" She accuses, now glaring daggers at him. "What the hell are you doing in my seat?"

Varian knows this cannot end well and he quickly scoops his things up. "Nothing, sorry, I didn't know you had it reserved. Here, please sit."

Without moving her eyes from him, Amren drops her bag and plops into the seat he just vacated. "You can leave." She states, opening her book again and settling down to read.

Varian is at a loss for words. His entire plan was just completely screwed up because she scared the shit out of him. Thank god none of the guys are watching. "I think I'll just sit here if you don't mind." He pulls back a chair adjacent to her own, sets down his things again, and sits down.

Amren lets out a deep sigh through her nose but doesn't say anything. Varian tries to concentrate on his book but finds he's having a hard time with her sitting so close to him. He looks up, studying her for a few minutes and trying not to act like a creep.

"You should take a picture." Amren finally says, their first words in over ten minutes. She doesn't look up from her book.

Varian is taken aback. "What?"

"If you're going to keep staring at me, you might as well take a picture, it'll last longer." Varian once again blushes at being caught and averts his eyes back to his own studies.

"Sorry, you're hair is just really pretty." He tries, examining her out of the corner of his eye for any sign of pink in her cheeks.

"I know." She states, signaling the end of the conversation.

Now that he's looking at her hair, however, Varian can't help but wonder what it feels like. Hesitantly, and without really thinking about it, he reaches a hand up and is halted by Amren's biting tone. "Touch my hair and I will break your neck."

He quickly draws his hand back but chuckles none the less. "You're like five feet tall. How are you gonna reach me, shortie?"

"Don't call me that." She snaps back. "And you have no idea what I can do." Her tone makes Varian shiver, out of fear, delight, and definitely something else, but mostly fear. He doesn't try to engage her for the rest of lunch.

"I honestly don't know if I can do this, Tarquin. She threatened to break my neck today!" Varian complains during drills later that day.

The captain laughs. "Wow, that's rough. I'm sure you'll figure something out though. Get her some sort of jewelry or something, ladies love that sort of thing."

"Yeah, ladies love that sort of thing," One of their teammates interrupts. "Amren is no lady."

After Tarquin yells at the guy for being nosey, he turns back to Varian. "Do you really think you're gonna lose this bet?" He wonders.

"No." Varian responds, suddenly sounding much more confident than he feels. "I still have twenty four hours. I can do this."

As he continues the drill though, he's not completely sure. He's not even convinced it's possible to make a girl like Amren blush. With no good ideas of his own left, Varian starts contemplating what Tarquin said. Maybe a gift would be the right way to go. but what would Amren even like?

Finding her the next day is easy, as almost everyone goes to their locker before leaving for the day. He confidently walks up to her, leaning against the locker next to hers, and holds out the box. "Hey Amren, I got you something to apologize for the way I've been acting the last few days."

Amren turns to him stiffly, glances at the box, and picks it up. She inspects the box first, shakes it a bit, then opens it. Varian grins in triumph when he heres her take a sharp intake of breath, but her composure remains. She shuts the lid and places it in her backpack before looking up at him. "Thanks." She states simply, almost sounding bored.

Varian feels completely deflated, wishing he had more time. He only has until tonight to make her blush or everyone is going to know how he feels about this infuriating girl. She starts to manuever around him when he lightly grabs her arm, enough to make her pause. "Wait, let me put it on you." He insists, reaching into her bag and pulling the box out again. She stands completely still as he delicately lifts the ruby necklace out of it's holder and goes around Amren. He moves her hair out of the way, only a small part of him relishing in the fact that it feels just like he thought it would, and clasps the necklace behind her neck.

Amren turns around to face him, a hand touching the red stone that now rests at the base of her throat, but her stoic expression remains. Varian is about to practically beg her for the answers of what he can do to make her smile, when she whispers, "You touched my hair."

Before he can even register what is happening, Amren's fist is in his gut and he's hunched over, clutching his abdomen. Her small hands grasp both sides of his face and for a moment, Varian fears for his life. Before he can stop her from breaking his neck like she promised, suddenly, she's kissing him.

Her lips are soft when they connect with his, making his eyes close for just a moment and allow himself to savor the feeling before it's over. Amren breaks away but doesn't loose her grip on his face. Varian can feel how red his cheeks are, especially when he glances around and sees that everyone in the hallway is staring at them with wide eyes. "That's the third time I've made you blush in three days. Does that mean I get five dollars from every guy on the football team?" She whispers in his ear, then let's go, not even glancing back to savor his stunned expression. "Thank you for the necklace!" She calls back as she walks away. "It really is beautiful."

Telling Cresseida about his crush on Amren might have been the best decision Varian has ever made.

750 follower extravaganza: Send me a request and I will write a 1k fic

Masterlist

#750 follower extravaganza #vamren #varian x amren #varianxamren #amren #varian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses fanfiction #acotar fanfic #vamren fanfic #vamren fanfiction #vamren oneshot #amrian #amrian oneshot #amrian fanfic #amren x varian #amrenxvarian #modern au #highschool au #acotar modern au #my writing

[abraxoswyvernnn]

VAMREN College Roommates AU

VAMREN College Roommates AU Chapter 1 Ship: VAMREN ( Varian x Amren ) Book/Series: A Court of Thorns and Roses SERIES Triggers (smut, angst, etc.) : None (for now haha) Written by: @abraxoswyvernnn on TUMBLR © abraxoswyvernnn © DO NOT EDIT ANYTHING WITHOUT PERMISSION ❁ I always love criticism and feedback so let me know what you think! ❁ Enjoy! ________________________ Varian I lugged my final suitcase up the steps. The sun burned in my eyes as I lifted my head up to see the medium sized box of a building that was his dorm house. And I had to admit, the building was quite ugly. The bricks looked so worn out, Varian sweared if he touched them the whole thing would collapse on him. It was painted a vivid and crusty yellow with a gigantic turquoise door that looked like it almost wasn't even turquoise at all because the paint was peeling. Carefully opening the door, his gaze first went to a long hallway on the left, a few doors inside it that lead to other rooms, and on the right were stairs that escalated up into the second floor which had a bare living room/kitchen duo and more rooms on the right. Varian lifted up the slip of paper he kept in the pocket of his black jeans. B3. Slouching past the first two doors he turned to his right and was standing in front of his room, B3. Sighing with relief of not having to walk anymore he opened the door, but he did not see his room. Amren Having to be in this shitty building for her freshman year of college was going to suck, Amren could already tell. First of all, it was so ugly and surrounded with trash. The kitchen barely functioned and the sink water was brown with dirt. Amren was the first to move into this awful building and even though she's only been here for three days she already hated it. Heading back to the dorm after buying groceries for the week -and actual water- she walked up the stairs, bags hung on her fingers and opened the door. Varian "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" I jolted awake at the sudden screech, unplugged my earphones and turned around. There was a girl in the doorway. She was beautiful, far more gorgeous than any female he had ever encountered. She was tiny, and wore skinny gray jeans and a burgundy crop hoodie that was snug to her chest and stopped right above the belly button. Her lips painted a deep scarlet against her stark porcelain skin, her hair cropped short to flaunt her sharp jawline, and blood rubies dripping from her ears. Not only was this girl pretty, but she was fucking hot. Looking down at the swirled black and white comforter on the bed he had been laying on, he jumped right off, realizing what he had done. "O-Oh cauldron...shit.. I'm sorry, I didn't realize-" he stammered. Slap. "That's what you get for sleeping on my bed." Her teeth gritted and her pupils dilated. Varian made a hissing sound through his teeth, and then slowly put his hand out. "I'm... Varian. ... and I know this already isn't a good start, but, can I ask why all of your things are in my room?" She blinked at him, then a wide grin started to bloom on her small mouth. It was the scariest (and sexiest) thing Varian had ever seen. "This is your room?" "Yes." She started laughing, not creepily, but happy and giggly. "Whatever, cunt. I know what you're trying to do. But I don't have cash, so it's your unlucky day." she giggled and started to sloppily push him out. "No, im serious. This is my room ." he lifted up the confirmation paper printed from Craigslist from purchasing rent for 9 months. She stopped laughing and squinted at the paper. Amren An hour full of pacing, arguing, and screaming later, now clutching the paper, Amren spoke slowly. "So, now we're roommates." "I don't get it, the website said that I would have my own room and that I would be living in a 'Shared Household'. But I didn't think it meant.. this." I set down my bags on the bed, my fingers sore, and sat down with them. "Where's your bed?" The male I still did not know the name of looked around the room again, even though there wasn't much to look at and shrugged. "I guess it wasn't included. I-" A knock interrupted him, and a girl probably a year or two younger than me it seemed peeked through. "Hi... is now a bad time?" I gestured for her to come in. She looked at us both -me and my now roommate- warily but stepped into the glorified closet. Her hands were full, holding a small tin. "Hi.. I'm Elain Archeron, I live downstairs, room A2. I thought I might introduce myself, since we'll be living in the same house. I made you both some sweets as a welcome gift. I moved in just last night." My roommate stepped forward, his hand reaching out for the tin. "Varian." he said as he took the tin from her dainty hands and gave her a handshake. Then I stepped forward, now aligned with Varian. "Amren." I said boldly as I gave a little smile and nod in thanks. Elain stepped back after the introduction and gently spoke again, "Well.. I'll always be downstairs if you ever need me. I barely leave my room unless i'm in class or baking or gardening. It was nice to meet you." Varian and I both beamed a smile and nodded in thanks again before Varian's now stretched out arm closed the door. Then he turned to me, any trace of a grin vanished, a full face of awkwardness in it's place. "I... need to call the landlord. I need to see if we could get another bed." I nodded and added, "I'm going to call my Uncle and see if he has any places I can stay." "Good idea." "Okay. great." .... "I'm... going to get some fresh air." "Okay." "Okay," Varian slipped out of the room and I let out a deep breath. This was going to be interesting. ________________ written by: @abraxoswyvernnn on TUMBLR ©abraxoswyvernnn _________________ Do NOT change without permission! Thanks for reading, loves! ♡

#vamren #amren and varian #varian #amren #amren x varian #varian x amren #au #fanfic #vamren fanfiction #vamren fanfic #abraxoswyvernnn #sarah #sjmaas #sarah j maas #sjm #maas #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #acotar3 #acotar2 #acowar #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #acowar spoilers #my heart #my post #angst #smut

[starbornvalkyrie]

of love and pearls

Okay so I actually don’t know what Amren’s inner voice would sound like but I wanted to write this little Vamren piece for my bb Nyka, @theoceanfaewriter​. Happy birthday, my Amren loving Canadian friend!!! I hope you have the most wonderful day <3

For all the indifference and lack of warmth she shows on a daily basis, Amren really does love her people and her family. They’ve been through the wringer and back--literally, if she stops to think about it. Amren would have never guessed she would be able to feel love, but now that she has , she was sure she had no space left in her heart to give away.

But then she met Varian.

The affections from the Summer Court prince came to Amren as a bit of a surprise. Although, if she was being quite honest with herself, Amren was attracted to him from the very beginning.

Usually, when people first met her, they would shy away from her gaze or pay more attention to the High Lord she’s most likely accompanying. Those who did focus on her generally did so out of fear, out of wariness for the chance she might erupt--or whatever it was that made people so afraid of her.

Varian was different. Year after year, century after century, Amren had never met anyone who had seen her as just Amren. Not Second in Command to the High Lord of the Night Court, not one of the most powerful beings not of their world. Just--Amren. And she fell for him even harder for it.

She kept falling even after Varian’s High Lord issued a blood feud against Amren, Feyre, and Rhysand. Though she would never admit it, Amren was worried what the feud with the Summer Court would do to her budding relationship with Varian. But Varian showed her she needn’t worry by sending her a necklace made of diamonds and rubies. And even when his own Court was under attack by Hybern, he made an effort to warn Amren to ready the Night Court’s defenses.

Needless to say, not that she ever would, Amren is completely smitten with the High Fae male, and there’s no coming back from it.

That night, she was dressed to the nines, ready for a night out on the town in Velaris. Varian had arrived early that morning but had been in a meeting with Feyre and Rhysand all day. She loves her High Lord and High Lady unconditionally, but she needs to see Varian before he heads back to the Summer Court.

As she donned the diamond and ruby necklace Varian gifted her, there was a knock at the door. Opening it revealed the faces of Nesta, Cassian, and Morrigan, and all of them seemed a little too excited for a night at Rita’s.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, Cassian’s fidgeting feet giving him away.

Nesta was the one to answer with a roll of her eyes and an elbow jab to Cassian’s side. “Why do you assume something is wrong? Cassian had literal ants in his pants earlier today and swears he can still feel one. Idiot.”

Amren looked to Cassian who only shrugged as though to say It’s true. She sighed, “Whatever, let’s go.”

The four of them made their way along the Sidra, Amren next to Nesta as Cassian and Mor whispered behind them. It sounded like they were arguing, which wasn’t new, so Amren paid them no mind and instead asked how the Illyrian camps with Cassian have been.

Nesta smiled and said, “It’s been great. We’ve finally been able to get more females out to train with us. It helps that I beat Cassian in the ring three out of five times now.”

Amren was about to express how happy she was to hear that when she saw Cassian and Mor in front of them, wide grins on their faces and a giant box wrapped in gold paper between them. How she hadn’t noticed Mor winnow the two of them ahead, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she needed to know what was in the box.

Nesta sped up to meet them, and before she knew it, they had winnowed away, leaving someone else in their place.

Varian.

He stood there before her dressed in high Night Court fashion and a smile so wide it took up most of his face. He leaned against the giant box and greeted her, “Hello, Amren.”

“Varian,” she says, cool and collected, even though all she wants to do is run into his arms. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

His smile softened, and Amren melted as he motioned for her to join him by the box. He took her hands in his and began. “I know you absolutely loathe when people beat around the bush, so here it is. Amren, I love you. I have loved you from the moment you came to the Summer Court and stole from us, and I kept falling every moment after.” Amren was sure she wasn’t crying--she doesn’t cry--but Varian keeps going. “Knowing that I almost lost you for good still keeps me up at night. I don’t know where the next hundred years will take us, but I do know that I want to spend those years with you. Will you marry me?”

Amren decided she could let herself be vulnerable in this moment, let herself be soft and warm instead of cold and hard. She threw her arms around this tall, dark male that had stolen her heart and said Yes on a sob. She kissed him senseless as though they were the only people in Velaris, in the world.

When they finally broke apart, breaths heavy, lips swollen, she remembered to ask, “So, what’s in the box?”

Varian’s face-splitting smile returned and he gestured for her to open it. Amren didn’t hesitate and gasped when she saw what was inside. It was a giant jewelry box made of glass to show off everything inside. The best part, however, was that it was lined with pearls. There were pearls everywhere, and Amren thought she might die again from the sheer beauty of it. 

Varian told her to open it, and, for once, she obeyed to find a smaller box, also lined with pearls. The ring inside took her breath away. It had a simple silver band but was adorned with the largest pearl she had ever seen with tiny drops of diamonds and rubies surrounding it. Amren looked to Varian, expecting to find a smug look on his face for knowing he picked the perfect ring, but found nothing except pure love and adoration.

Silently, Varian took the ring from the box and slid it on to Amren’s finger. A perfect fit.

She looked from the ring to Varian, and with all the love she never knew she could feel, she said, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of eternity with you.”

---

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#a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #amren #varian #vamren #HAPPY BIRTHDAY NYKA #theoceanfaewriter #nyka tag #sfq meg writes

[illyrian-lover-flower]

Chapter 3

As Azriel walked the right wing of the white staircase up, he noticed that Feyre seemed more tense than usually, but why would he blame her? She hasn't seen him in the past three years so why would she just relax by seeing him?

But there was also something strange about her reaction when she led him in at the front door. Shock crossed her features first, but was soon replaced by something like hurt and pity? Pity was the last he wanted from her, after all she was the one that lost a sister.

The light hallway hasn't changed much within these three years, only a few new paintings from Feyre hung on the walls. He noticed that some of the newer paintings were lighter and more colour in them. But it was no new painting he suddenly stopped walking for - almost in front of his High Lords Office.  

The painting he stopped at had more colours too, but the moment it caught laid back so many years. It showed an occasion at the beginning of his and Elain's friendship, a moment were both knelt in front of one of Elain's flower beds. They nursed some herbaceous plants with delicate petals. Back then Elain had only gotten them, making them the newest members of her beloved garden, the closed blooms were the evidence. But some already started to open up, peeking their heads out to meet their new caring owner.

Elain smiled softly at the white Freesia, if he remembered correctly, both hands on the soil around the plant. Some soil already found its way to her cheeks and nose. She looked with such love at the plant that Azriel actually wished to be one of them too, only to be shown such love.

As he expected -Elain was covered in Light, her blush pink gown glittered a little, but was also messed up with soil. She didn't look like she cared though. Her honey curls caught the sunlight, Looking like liquid honey. The big pink blooms of her flower crown fit perfectly to her innocent look.

And as Azriel looked at himself, now twenty-three years older, he saw something glimmer in his younger eyes. A look Feyre managed to express good, even with all the mixed-up emotions. There was admiration for the flower grower and everything she created. There was something like longing too, but there also was love? He would have liked to deny it, but it seems like he already had a weak spot for her back then.

But what wondered him the most was, that the creative Artist put him into the light too, right next to the flower grower, her beloved older sister. He wondered why she would put a so destroyed monster Right next to her perfect, petite sister.  

But he remembered that they actually sat like this. His hands were on the ground too, covering the roots of a Freesia with Violett pedals. His scarred fingers and palms covered in the wet earth. He looked her way and had only eyes for her, a soft smile drawn on his lips. Sitting Closer than anyone to her.

The scenery was covered in green and the bright sunlight, lit by the colours of Elain's garden and her flower crown. Not even one shadow in sight.

When Azriel looked again at Feyre, his vision was blurry, he found her smiling sheepishly at him. He tried to ask her when she had drawn it, she only shook her head, now Looking at her painting too. She smiled at it and started answering his Questions.

"I had actually had searched for Elain that day. I wanted to ask her if she might know what tea fits best for a Friends meet up in spring, but when I saw you two there, I didn't want to disturb you two. You both looked so happy and calm at that time, as if you were in your own world, so I left you alone again. But at that time, I already had the inspiration for that drawing."

Now she looked at him again, Tears started to brim in her eyes. His heart felt like granite and slowly started to sink into his guts. Her voice came out shaky as she spoke again.

"I actually drew it two years ago. I always thought you two would have a problem with pictures hanging around of you, when it wasn't for Family portraits. But after you two left-" her voice broke and tears started streaming down her face.

Azriel hung his head low, knowing that he was one of the causes for her pain. So, he did the only thing Elain thought him as right in such moments -he hugged her.

He only hugged her lightly, making her even more sob, but she wrapped her arms around his frame.

After a few silent moments she whipped her snooty nose on her blue wool pullover and took the last steps towards Rhys office. She knocked softly and didn't even wait for the muffled "Come in."

*******

The office still looked like as the day he decided to leave his family. And in all honesty - it pained him.

The dark, chunky mahogany desk still stood in the middle of this large room. Windows that reached up to the ceiling enlightened the white room. On the grey walls hung also paintings from Feyre.

If it wouldn't have been such an unfitting time he would have laughed at the paintings, because each of them showed his High Lord in an over dramatized heroic position. Rhys looked up from his papers as he saw him entering the room. The mood immediately switched as he rose from his dark leathered chair.

Feyre seemed to have noticed too and left her mate and the puzzled shadowsinger behind as she closed the large door.

His brother walked around his desk and casually leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest, over his black pullover. 'Wearing black, as always.' Azriel thought silently, at least some things don't change.

Rhys offered him a smile, a forced one. The shadowsinger already saw better ones than this of his High Lord, or he just saw right through him. With all the time that past it wouldn't wonder him - he knew him almost his whole life after all.

Azriel raised an eyebrow at him, making his forehead wrinkle. Rhys sighed at that and dragged a hand through his midnight hair.

"I would have called you soon anyway." he mumbled.

His brother mentioned silently to the black armchair in front of his desk. He himself sat back again in his chair. He propped his elbows on the table top and folded his Hands nervously before him.

Azriel took the -for winged persons- rather uncomfortable seat, Looking at his High Lord now. He sighed again and closed his eyes frustrated.

"I didn't mention it when I last talked to you," he begun. His words were tense, the shadowsinger straightened a bit.

"..., but there are still riots at Windhaven and the other war-camps. They won't listen to Cassian, but they also refuse to listen to me." another sigh. Whatever is bothering him, is definitely a whole pain in the ass.

So Azriel growled lightly as he spoke "Get it out already!"

He hated that about his High Lord, he always sweet talked everything and danced around the main Point.

"Devlon and the other war-Lords want that you and Cassian repeat the Blood Rite."

It suddenly became verry Cold, even for him and he was glad he already sat, because else he would have needed a chair now. His scarred hands clenched and unclenched in his lap.

"And why is that?"

"They said if you and Cassian take part in the next Blood Rite, they're going to put their weapons down and obey. They said they would also finally accept you two."

Az laughed drily at that. "We're not going to suddenly be respected only because we survive that stupid Rite a second time!"

Rhys tensed, his words were calm as he spoke again, this time as his High Lord. "Cassian has already agreed to it."

Azriel was far more than shocked. He wouldn't have thought of his brother as that lightheaded. He shook his head in disbelief, but he obeyed his High Lord as he nodded. His Body screamed at him to not do it, to not do the Rite another time. His primitive instincts screaming at him to search for a safe hiding place and safe his life.

"I never wanted to be accepted by These Monsters." he scrunched his nose at the thought of all the winged males that only waited to shed the blood of their enemies.

"Then don't do it for yourself -do it for your court."

Az needed to nod, as he gave in to his High Lord, like every time. Laying his fate in Rhys Hands, yet still having to take care of his life in his own destroyed hands.

"But after that," he started, Looking into the violet eyes of his High Lord, his Brother. "..., I want to take the next six months off. I want to search for her and not even you can stop me from doing that."

Something hurt and knowing crossed his eyes, but was gone in a blink of them. He nodded "I think that can be arranged."

"So, where's the snag in all that?"

Rhys sighed again.

"You and Cassian are going to start at the opposite sides of Ramiel. You two shall not unite this time."

"And if we do?"

A sad look crossed his Features as he looked at him "Then you two have to fight. A fight of life and death. They say you still can use your shadows, so they should be able to warn you soon enough and if they don't …." he shrugged with his shoulders, trying to Play it down "...it'll end with the death of one of my Brothers."

Azriel nodded as he stood up and reached for the door, Ready to leave again. Not even trying to make his Point of not taking part in that deadly Rite again or the fact that he still wanted to take off and start searching for his love instead of having to train again.

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" Rhys asked him in a rushed Question.

Azriel nodded again. Wanting to at least spent his last time with his Family. He had already caused enough pain to all of them and he also wanted to apologize for it. After all, the Blood Rite was only two weeks away.

                                                    *******

"It's good to see you again, I actually thought you had become a shadow yourself!"  

Cassian probably meant it as a joke, but Azriel had the slight Feeling that the bulky Illyrian knew just too well that he indeed was only a shadow of himself. Az still offered him a slight smile, fake, but he tried.

He took his usual seat, the one to his left still empty. A heavy blanket started to fall upon him and his emotions.

Cassian sat across from him and smiled sadly as he noticed Azriel starring at the empty chair next to him.

Mor took also her usual seat, at the Right side of Cassian. They started to form a conversation as soon as the plates were filled.

Rhys and Feyre grinned at each other from across their seats. Feyre had the chair after the empty one at Ariel's left, while Rhys sat next to Mor. Amren, fierce as ever sipped annoyed at her blood red wine. His already eaten Food wanted to climb out of his mouth again at the colour, but he smiled when he noticed that Amren was kicking something under the table, and both Rhys and Feyre winced a little in pain.

They truly lived their life's as ever. Even without the seer.

As he ate his dinner silently, thinking About the seer and all their playfully annoyed and pained expressions they gave each other when their family did that at every dinner. The ghost of a smile came to his lips at the playfulness she only shared with him.

But over these lips never came a word of an apology. The words imprisoned in his own world.  

And as he flew home, the wind hitting his face, finally, again, he only thought about Elain and all the things he should have told her, because of the future perspective with the Blood Rite, he was scared he would not be able to tell her his deepest secret.

So, he flew a little longer than necessary, with the Image of her smiling face and sparkling Eyes in mind.

Still no apology on his lips, as he once again united with the dark night sky and its sparkling stars.

__________________previous chapter | next chapter ____________________

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#elriel #elriel ff #elriel fluff #elriel angst #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #elain and azriel #azriel and elain #elriel fanfiction #elriel fic #feysand #feyre archeron #rhys #cassian #nessian #nesta #amren #varian #vamren #lucien #lucien x vassa #acotar #vassa #own character

[born-to-riot]

WIP Wednesday

Since there is exactly one week until the day I plan to post my @polyacotarweek fic, I think it's time I share a little snippet of Nesta's adventure with Amren and Varian.... in their bed hehehehe

TW: NSFW

____________

[So 900 words may be too long for a snippet but just so you have an idea of what you're getting into, this is the message I sent @acourtofladydeath when I came up with this idea: (I think there is a sore lack of vamren in the community and shall I fix that by having them invite a third? Shall it be Nesta? Shall Amren show her how to harness her potential by taking it out on a needy overstimulated Varian?)

__________

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry, did we leave you alone too long,” Amren coos to her lover. Varian sits exposed on a simple wooden chair in the middle of the couple’s bedroom. The Summer Court male’s head is hanging low, his white tendrils of hair acting like a shield in front of his face. Nesta did not pick up on any sort of response from the male that indicates that he acknowledges their presence. She takes a quick peek over at Amren and decides not to worry after finding the other female to seem emphatically unconcerned. Nesta watches on silently as the tiny fae takes a couple soft predatory steps towards the subdued male. Nonetheless, she stills to take in the view of the delicious specimen of man in front of her. Nesta can admit fully that she has never really given much thought to Varian before, not really having much time to assess him in the short three months after the war with Hybern. However, now, she can’t seem to look away from the large male’s thick muscular thighs, his heavy cock, his beautiful dark skin–fuck, Nesta feels her cunt throb in anticipation. 

“Baby boy,” Amren releases another coo, causing Varian to finally raise his gaze to meet his Mistresses and causing Nesta to shiver for a different reason entirely. Now, not only does she have a better view of the male himself, a white blindfold and ball gag rendering his sight and ability to speak obsolete; but also she can see his nostrils flaring and his muscles twitching. Nesta is absolutely enraptured in the scene in front of her as she watches Varian suddenly seem to try to lunge in Amren’s direction, the man trying and failing to get closer to her, his muscles bulging in their effort to win a one-sided battle against his restraints.

But it isn’t until Nesta spots Varian’s collar, large and heavy on his neck, that she feels her nipples harden and another bout of wetness starting to form between her folds. Here, on Varian’s neck, in Amren’s apartment in Velaris, was one of the Summer Court’s infamous blood rubies. The massive jewel's weight was supported by a two-inch thick diamond encrusted platinum band. She knows it must sit heavy on his neck, it seems almost impossible that a jewel that large could be fixed upon a collar without falling, but here it stands.

Last Nesta had checked, the source material of Prythian’s most common nightmares had decided to use this ‘threat’ as a paperweight. Although, she can’t deny how much the pathway to her center steams at the thought of the Summer Court male being made to wear a sign of ownership stamped with the ultimate symbol of betrayal of his own court, an invocation of  a feud on a personal level. 

Nesta can’t help but muse over what the thrill of incurring such a depth of loyalty from another must taste like, she wonders too, greedily and needily what it feels like to be such a fearsome predator to surpass the laws of societal expectation. Is this Amren’s subtle yet personal way of invoking her own feud, a remnant of the possessive creature that once roamed inside of her that is furious at the land for claiming ownership of something that she marked as hers. She also wonders heatedly, enviously, what it would be like to be wanted that furiously. Need starts to play at the strings of her core, she can feel it heating and readying itself for something more.

“Don’t be shy now boy,” Amren instructs Varian, the man immediately turning his head in the direction of her voice, clearly desperate for her touch. Nesta would be lying if she said the palpable smell and taste of his desperation didn’t cause her clit to start to throb.

The sweetness of the pair in front of her simultaneously puts Nesta on edge as well as incurs yet another thrum of heat inside of her. Amren is never sweet. Nesta watches on as her mentor finally reaches her lover–no, her pet. Amren looks Varian up and down with a hungry gleam in her eye before grabbing his chin roughly, causing what sounds like a gruff moan to escape the large man’s lips. That’s all it took? Nesta thinks to herself. 

“You haven’t even been touched boy and you’re already sweating?” Amren tuts, roughly maneuvering his chin as she gives him a thorough inspection, the male seemingly keening into the contact despite its roughness. Nesta tries not to get whiplash as Amren softly pats the male’s cheek twice with her free hand before letting it drop to rest on her waist.

“Pathetic,” the ancient one scoffs, finally releasing her other hand’s grip on his chin. 

Nesta realizes that the male in front of her is not the same one that has been a frequent guest at their dinner table over the last couple of months. No, tonight she is not looking at the same captain of Tarquin’s guard nor the commendable battle tactician that she has come to know. Instead, Nesta finds herself looking at Amren’s pet. As soon as the thought crosses her mind though, Nesta is hit by a shudder that rolls through her entire body, a shock of a reprimand from something deep in her core, something primal. No, Nesta reprimands herself, straightening her posture as she starts to make her own way towards Varian. Tonight, he is her prey.

__________

hehehehe if you liked this then feel free to come back next week to see the full thing (hopefully I will come up with a title before then)

EDIT: im slow so this is going to be posted on the free day!!!!

#wip wednesday #acotar #acomaf #acowar #vamren #polyamory #consensual nonmonogamy #acotar smut #varian x amren #amren x varian #amren x nesta #amren x varian x nesta #vamren x nesta #acotar fanfiction #polyacotarweek2024 #idk how to tag this #poly!acotar #poly+acotarweek2024 #amren acotar #amren and varian #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #varian acotar #I am going to post this and run away #also this is my first smut and I'm pulling out the b*ll g*gs #lmao

[born-to-riot]

Contrary to popular belief, Eris Vanserra did have feelings. He has a heart and as much as he loathes to admit it, he does fall guilty to being influenced by its whims. Whether that’s a good or bad thing remains to be seen; however, as now his heart is quite literally compelling him to follow his stupid mate into a metaphorical lion’s den. ‘Family Dinner at the Night Court.’ What the fuck.

Initially just expecting to get a front row seat to Azriel’s family drama, Eris Vanserra finds himself disappointed yet ultimately not surprised when the arrival of Lucien at the Night Court family dinner forces his own problems to be served up as part of the main course.

Tag List: (tell me if you don’t wanna be here) @acourtofladydeath @ofduskanddreams @secret-third-thing @areyoudreaminof @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @queercontrarian

#azris forever #acotar #eris x azriel #azriel #eris and azriel #azris fanfiction #azris #acowar #acomaf #acosf #vamren #elucien #lucien vanserra #vanserra family #feysand #nessian #family dinner #rancor and risotto

[born-to-riot]

Rancor and Risotto Chapter 3: Le Potage

“Hello everyone!” Azriel calls out, silencing the room. Eris takes a deep breath and exhales. He reminds himself that he has no need to be this nervous, he is here to provide backup for his mate, it's not like he’s having dinner with his own family. Eris squeezes Azriel’s hand and steps closer to his side, a silent show of support.

“I’m sure you have met my mate before, but I will still introduce him for the sake of formality. Meet Eris Vanserra, High Lord of Autumn and more importantly, my bonded mate,” Azriel declares smugly, not at all ashamed of the bomb he just dropped on his family.

Little excerpts from the chapter below: 

“Fuck.” Cassian, Lord of Bloodshed, stands in front of them, holding open the door to the House of Wind. 

Eris and Azriel stand side-by-side, looking at the other male blankly. They blink in unison, staring back at Cassian with growing expressions of confusion on both of their faces. The latter of the two has an assortment of fresh bite-shaped bruises on his exposed chest. The former looks as sharp as ever, having heated up a dull blade to smooth out the wrinkles in his suit after Azriel flew him up to the House of Wind. 

Eris also made sure to use the heated blade to straighten out the wrinkles on Azriel’s dress pants, actively ignoring the Shadowsinger’s grumbles about such an act being unnecessary. If this is their official debut to the Night Court as a couple, then that means that Azriel is now technically an extension of Eris’ reputation. As a result, Eris will do everything in his power to make sure the Illyrian menace looks as sharp as possible whenever he has the opportunity to do so; Vanserras always dress to impress. Not that his efforts ended up mattering in this situation, as here he was with his mate, still face-to-face with Cassian, who remained in the same position as when the larger male first opened the door.

Eris can’t help but feel a little disgruntled at the behemoth bat’s greeting, he thought their relationship had progressed a bit beyond on-sight expletives. Lately, whenever Eris runs into the male at various court events, he is always greeted with a warm smile from Cassian and is usually allowed a single dance with the Illyrians' lovely mate. All things considered, Eris’ mind can’t produce the reasoning for why Cassian is still standing in front of the halfway-opened door with a facial expression that resembles how Eris feels when one of his hounds produce a particularly potent excrement. Frankie, the little shit, always seems to find his way into the kitchens and into something that he most definitely is not supposed to be eating. 

Eris squeezes Azriel’s hand and looks over to his mate, who is frozen in ‘assessment mode.’ He has to put actual effort into fighting off his burgeoning smile, Azriel is just so cute. He watches as his mate’s hazel eyes look Cassian up and down, trying to read the other’s body language and assesses his best course of action. Eris cherishes the fact that Azriel is so quick to be on the defensive for him. To be honest, Eris is still not used to having someone in his corner. But now with Azriel by his side, he knows he will never be alone again. Eris feels the tickle of multiple shadows flying up the back of his pants and settling themselves along the usual permanent residents of his arms, ready to strike if need be.

It doesn’t seem like his mate is going to take action right away, which Eris understands as Cassian hasn’t really done anything except for behave uncharacteristically quiet and frozen. But still, Eris finds the General of the Night Court’s behavior to be unusually unnerving. As much as Azriel claims that he doesn’t care what happens tonight, the Night Court entourage is his family and Eris wants to make sure that the other doesn’t lose it all because of him. Anyway, it seems that Azriel has moved on from his ‘assessment mode’ to his ‘watch and guard mode.’ Eris has always admired the Shadowsinger’s patience. He is both appreciative and awed by the other’s ability to be on guard for hours if need be. However, Eris was decidedly not blessed with that same gift of patience, and he is tired of standing here and waiting for something to happen. So, Eris supposes he’ll just have to move things along by himself.

“Hello to you too,” Eris smirks at the long-haired overgrown bat, “Personally, I prefer to be addressed as High Lord Fuck, but I guess shouldn’t expect any proper titles out of an Illyrian Bastard like yourself.”

Tag List: (tell me if you don’t wanna be here) @acourtofladydeath @ofduskanddreams @secret-third-thing @areyoudreaminof @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @queercontrarian @yourlazykitkat @krem-has-a-mess @witch-and-her-witcher

#azris #azris fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel acotar #azris supremacy #acosf #eris vanserra #elucien #feysand #nessian #vamren #nyx acotar #nyx #feyre archeron #cassian #nesta archeron #elain archeron #azriel

[born-to-riot]

Chapter 5: Le Plat Principale

Before Eris has a chance to further assess the situation or finish analyzing his chances of being stabbed in any theoretical crossfire that may or may not about to take place, the High Lady of the Night Court decides to open her mouth and fuck everything up.

“I’m bored. Azriel, let’s change seats,” Feyre declares, silencing the room, the only sound being the slight clink of the High Lady's cutlery as she places it back down on the table.

Eris blinks. Did she say Azriel? He blinks again.

Contrary to popular belief, Eris Vanserra did have feelings. He has a heart and as much as he loathes to admit it, he does fall guilty to being influenced by its whims. Whether that’s a good or bad thing remains to be seen; however, as now his heart is quite literally compelling him to follow his stupid mate into a metaphorical lion’s den. ‘Family Dinner at the Night Court.’ What the fuck.

Initially just expecting to get a front row seat to Azriel’s family drama, Eris Vanserra finds himself disappointed yet ultimately not surprised when the arrival of Lucien at the Night Court family dinner forces his own problems to be served up as part of the main course. 

Tag List: (tell me if you don’t wanna be here) @acourtofladydeath @ofduskanddreams @secret-third-thing @areyoudreaminof @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @queercontrarian @yourlazykitkat @krem-has-a-mess @witch-and-her-witcher @yanny-77 @pippsmcgee

#acotar #azris #acomaf #acowar #azriel x eris #azris supremacy #azris fanfiction #family drama #rancor and risotto #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #azriel acotar #vamren #feysand #nessian #elucien

[born-to-riot]

Rancor and Risotto Chapter 4: Le Poisson

Rancor and Risotto Chapter 4: Le Poisson

“Okay, Calm down little foxes.” Rhysand starts, probably only willing to speak now because he can sense that he is not the only one that feels out of control anymore, the bastard.

“I hate to say that this is a surprise but it genuinely is a surprise to all of us; congratulations Vanserras, you both won. I mean I’ve known Eris was mated since I saw him at his coronation but I still am reeling at the fact that—“

“Speaking of my coronation…” Eris interrupts the High Lord of the Night Court, which is considered to be an extremely rude thing to do in itself. However, since Eris is also a High Lord he is allowed to be rude.

“Lucien, did you not receive my invitation?” Eris asks. This question has been on his mind for about a year now and he is curious to see if his brother will actually give him a straight answer.

“Must have gotten lost, sorry brother,” the Spellcleaver’s son replies nonchalantly, his golden eye scanning the entirety of the room as he shrugs.

Liar, Eris can’t help but think as he tries to keep his rising fury inside of him 

____ 

Contrary to popular belief, Eris Vanserra did have feelings. He has a heart and as much as he loathes to admit it, he does fall guilty to being influenced by its whims. Whether that’s a good or bad thing remains to be seen; however, as now his heart is quite literally compelling him to follow his stupid mate into a metaphorical lion’s den. ‘Family Dinner at the Night Court.’ What the fuck.

Initially just expecting to get a front row seat to Azriel’s family drama, Eris Vanserra finds himself disappointed yet ultimately not surprised when the arrival of Lucien at the Night Court family dinner forces his own problems to be served up as part of the main course. 

Tag List: (tell me if you don’t wanna be here) @acourtofladydeath @ofduskanddreams @secret-third-thing@areyoudreaminof @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @queercontrarian @yourlazykitkat @krem-has-a-mess @witch-and-her-witcher

#acomaf #acowar #acotar #acosf #eris vanserra #azris #azris supremacy #azris fanfiction #nessian #vamren #feysand #elucien #rancor and risotto #acotar fanfiction

[born-to-riot]

Rancor and Risotto Dinner Outfits: The Men Pt. 2

Since we’re finally seeing everyone in chapter 3 and chapter 4 of my fic Rancor and Risotto, I thought I’d show y’all my Dinner outfit inspo for everyone!! Of course nothing will be as perfect as it is in my head but I will try to show you the vision. Idk I thought it might be fun. Also I will make a separate post for the females so look here if you are interested! Also tumblr will only let me put so many images in one post so click here if you’re interested in seeing the rest of the men.

Rhysand

For Rhysand I was feeling a more understated but still appropriate suit. It’s not like he was planning on having to impress anyone but also I feel like he’s the type of guy who always looks put together. Thus we have our simple black suit.

Nyx

I don’t believe Feyre could resist dressing up Nyx formally for the occasion and I mean hey I don’t blame her. IMAGINE HOW CUTE NYX WOULD LOOK IN THIS OUTFIT

Varian

This might just be me but I feel like it’s always a fight to get Summer Court men to put on a shirt. For tonight’s dinner Varian was willing to compromise mostly on the basis of defense of his skin as one can never be too careful around Amren’s friends. Who knows if flying cutlery is something he should be wary of at dinner. He is still traumatized by what Cassian did in summer. However, Amren claims that she is upset that he wore shorts, yet she keeps sitting in his lap so is she really that mad? Varian doesn’t know. (Did it also help that Amren picked out the shirt for him? Yeah he’s a simp)

Lucien

Idk why I feel like Lucien is most comfortable in spring colors. Also the man was raised a Vanserra so he is never going to shy away from an opportunity to dress up. ALSO LUCIEN WOULD SLAY IN THIS SUIT. Vanserra approved.

#rancor and risotto #azris fanfiction #acomaf #acotar #acowar #rhysand #rhys acotar #nyx archeron #nyx acotar #lucien vanserra #elucien #feysand #varian acotar #varian #amren x varian #vamren #amrian

[born-to-riot]

Rancor and Risotto Dinner Outfits: The Women

Since we’re finally seeing everyone in chapter 3 and chapter 4 of my fic Rancor and Risotto, I thought I’d show y’all my Dinner outfit inspo for everyone!! Of course nothing will be as perfect as it is in my head but I will still try to show you the vision. Idk I thought it might be fun. Also I will make a separate post for the males here and here so look at that if you are interested!

Nesta

I want Nesta in a dress like this except for more Navy and she will have suitable jewelry to make it more formal. Nesta will look wonderful alright.

Morrigan

(Not my art, all credits to artist- found this on Google images) but yes this is literally the exact dress in my head for our resident fashion goddess Mor. (Keep in mind Eris may be bitter about it but she looks amazing)

Feyre

You cannot tell me this silhouette does not scream Feyre Archeon. And the fact that her breasts are easy access is even better lol. For Rhys I guess....

Amren

I know we usually only see Amren in the typical Night Court style harem pants and the top that goes to her midriff, but I think she’d love the opportunity to show off some of her hoard hehe. Also slip dresses look good on petite girls and especially girls with a small bust so I think Amren would like it idk.

Elain

I actually had a hard time coming up with Elain's outfit in my head, mostly because of this beautiful fan art that kinda was ruining my vision of her. But I think she would wear this in a color that compliment's Lucien's suit. Maybe more pale pink or a dusty yellow? Idk but her outfit is most definitely corresponding to Lucien’s. She doesn't really care about the Night Court colors or her technical residency there IMO

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #rancor and risotto #azris fanfiction #nesta archeron #a court of thorns and roses #nessian #mor #mor acotar #morrigan acotar #feyre archeron #feyre cursebreaker #feysand #amren #amren acotar #amren and varian #vamren #amrian #elain archeron #elucien

[thesurielships]

Fanfic Masterlist

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