#wait no not anyways: my sister is painting grace / me / our two other roommates a picture of a goose with a knife for our aprt next year

[theladyofdeath]

Castaway {ACOTAR/ Chapter 1}

Word Count: 3,001

Summary:  A modern-day University AU, from the A Court of Thorns and Roses universe. All characters belong to Sarah J. Maas. The idea for this fanfic hailed from prompts sent in by Anonymous, and @queen-archeron.

Author’s Note: I want to begin by stating that I am not for Feylin, nor do I support them as a couple. But, as in ACOTAR, it is vital that the story begins with them as a couple. I have been so excited to share this with you, and already can’t wait to share chapter two. As for chapter one, I hope you enjoy. :)

August 16 – It felt like the first time.

My first time having sex was not romantic.

It was horrible.

To say it was awkward would be an understatement. Hell, it would be an improvement.

The only articles of clothing removed were our pants, and my panties, and it took place in the bed of his truck behind his parent’s barn. He kept making uncomfortable grunting noises, and his shoulder kept bumping into my chin.

I think we kissed once during the entire atrocity.

Oh. And he called me Claire.

That’s not my name.

Tonight was different, though. He made me feel like a princess, like every inch of my body was longed for and respected. He took his time with me, and there was nothing awkward about how he touched me, or how he held me, or how he looked at me.

And when he whispered my name, my entire being unraveled.

I won’t be sleeping tonight.

Love,

Wide Awake but Lost in a Dream

   September 2 – Move in day

Feyre could hear their voices before she turned the corner, her heart nearly pounding through her chest with every step.

Trailing behind her, Elain was carrying a box full of art magazines and photographs, while Nesta was hauling so many pillows that she couldn’t quite see where she was going. Feyre, on the other hand, only carried her clothes, which she managed to stuff into two old duffle bags that she had managed to save from decaying in her dad’s attic.

“Shouldn’t your new boyfriend be helping?” Nesta mumbled, tripping over her own two feet. “He could probably carry all this himself.”

“He’s moving in today, too,” Feyre proclaimed, defending him, although she did wish he was there with her.

They had been dating for a month, just about, and Feyre had to admit that she was loving the honeymoon stage. They spent hours kissing until their lips became chapped, and holding onto each other until ridiculous hours in the morning. 

They had met at orientation while Feyre was waltzing through the Greek Row booths.

He was there, with his fraternity, watching her move from booth to booth. He was quiet, a little bit awkward with his words, a little bit stiff and short when he spoke, but there was something about him Feyre could not ignore, could not forget.

He was mesmerizing.

Their first date was the next night. 

And they had spent nearly every day together since.

She sure wished he was there, though, helping her move in, to begin this new chapter of her life. She was finally free, gone from the small town an hour away that held her father, the man who was too lazy and too far broken for Feyre, or either of her sisters, to heal. They had been trying for too long. And Feyre was exhausted.

The thought of leaving used to make Feyre feel guilty. She was the only one left, as Nesta had moved away five years before and made a life for herself in the city. And Elain, sweet Elain, had left just a year after to chase her own dream.

Feyre was his last hope, and she had failed him. He doesn’t want to be helped, Nesta would always tell her, and near the end of her time spent under her father’s roof, Feyre was beginning to agree.

You need to make yourself happy. You need to take your own path, Elain would follow, more graciously than their elder sister.

So, she did.

She had applied to the University of Velaris a few months before, and before she could think twice about leaving her little, dinky hometown, and her father, Feyre was moving to the City of Starlight. She couldn’t wait for her first night there, to find out how the city got its nickname.

Soon enough.

“Here,” Feyre halted, Nesta bumping into her back due to her obnoxiously high stack of pillows.

Room 218.

Feyre pushed open the cracked door, to find that the room was already occupied.

And tiny.

Feyre was used to a small bedroom, and not having much, but this was ridiculous.

There were already two girls sitting in the room, watching Feyre and her sisters with curious expressions, and by the time the new three had entered, there was barely any room to move.

The blonde one, whose hair hung in long, loose curls, darted her eyes to Feyre’s middle sister. “Elain?”

Nesta threw her stack of pillows on the last empty bed, which happened to be the top bunk, to Feyre’s dismay, and blinked. “You two know each other?”

“She’s a friend of Azriel’s,” Elain beamed. “Well, family, I should say.”

The two girls hugged as Feyre caught a glimpse of the other female, sitting crossed-legged on the bottom bunk. Her chin length black hair made her look chic paired with her black skinny jeans and short-sleeved, black crop top. Underneath her choppy bangs, there was a glint in her silver eyes that made Feyre feel as if the girl wished to set her on fire. She may have been small, but she had a lot of power dwelling within her small frame. 

Note to self: Watch out for that one. Also, sleep with one eye open. 

“I’m Mor.” It took Feyre a second to realize that the blonde one was speaking to her. “And this is Amren. Looks like we’re your new roommates.”

“Feyre,” she smiled, as good as she could muster. “This is my other sister, Nes –“

“I’ve seen you before.” The other girl, Amren, narrowed her eyes at Feyre.

“Don’t scare her, Amren,” Mor rolled her eyes. “Not yet, anyway. You’ll get used to her creepiness. If you’re like me, you may even become fond of it.”

Mor spoke theatrically. Feyre would bet good money that she was here to pursue the arts. She had the looks, too, as she was as beautiful as any Greek goddess that Feyre had ever attempted to paint.

Maybe Mor would let Feyre paint her, someday, too.

Although beautiful, Mor’s words sent Feyre’s stomach into a knot. These girls were intimidating, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

She wanted to run back home.

“I’ll have to tell Az that you two are roommates,” Elain said, giddily. “He’ll have a field day.”

“Is he helping you set up the store?” Mor asked, all while Amren’s narrowed eyes began to make Feyre sweat.

“You know Azriel,” Elain shrugged, a soft smile gracing her mouth. “With him it’s all or nothing. He helped me start, and now he insists on helping me until it’s finished.”

“Well, he’d do anything for you,” Mor winked.

“Well,” Nesta interrupted, taking a step back toward the door. “We should get going.” She looked to Feyre. “You can take care of yourself. You’re welcome for helping.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. Nesta meant well, she always did, but for Nesta to express her feelings.....Well, she had better luck walking on water than hoping her eldest sister would open up.

Besides, taking care of herself was nothing new. Nesta was right. She could do it, she didn’t need help. She had been doing it for years.

“We love you,” Elain, Nesta’s polar opposite, smiled, and planted a kiss on Feyre’s freckled cheek.

It didn’t calm Feyre down, though. She hadn’t realized how comfortable she was in her little hometown, even if it was less than ideal. She had never left its boarders, not for more than a few hours - not until now.

And the feeling was overwhelming. 

Even more so when ice coated Amren’s tone as she spat, “Shit. You’re Tamlin’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”

  “Do you know a Tamlin?”

Azriel froze from he was standing, hunched over a plastic tub filled with floral skirts. Slowly, he looked up to Elain. “Why do you ask?”

“Whoa.” Elain set down the dress she was about to put on the mannequin. “You got weird. You do know him.”

Azriel didn’t say anything else as he grabbed yet another skirt, and hung it on a plastic hanger, and on the z rack. Then, he repeated, “Why do you ask?”

“Feyre’s other roommate mentioned him. Ah, dang it, what was her name….” Elain shrugged, keeping an eye on Azriel as she continued dressing her plastic person. “Anyway. They’re dating. Feyre and Tamlin, not what’s-her-name and Tamlin. She’s bringing him to dinner on Friday.”

“This Friday?” the words flew out of his mouth, and that mixed with the shadows that swept into his deep, hazel eyes…..

“Talk.” Elain demanded, striding to where he stood, leaving the dress half way on the mannequin standing in the window. “If he’s going to hurt my sister, I need to know.”

“Did Mor say anything? After he was mentioned?”

Elain shook her head. “No….She did seem a bit uncomfortable, though. If there is something wrong with him, you need to tell me now, he –“

Azriel softened, and gave his friend an encouraging smile, although it still didn’t reach his eyes. “Tamlin is….Well, we just….There…..There’s history.”

“Between you and him?” Elain’s eyebrows rose. “Bad history?”

“Between him and my family.”

My family. Azriel had told Elain all about his family. He was abandoned, forced into foster care by the age of five, after seeing far more than any child should. After that, he bounced from foster family to foster family, until he finally got dropped in one that was different. That loved him. That accepted him. That wanted him. There were two other boys there, with the same tanned skin and dark hair as him. It didn’t take long for them to become brothers. A year later, the day after he turned fifteen, a girl with blonde hair came. Morrigan. They have been the only family I have ever known, he had confessed to her.

He loved them more than anything. And the way he said it, between him and my family, Elain was afraid what was coming next.

“Do you care to expand?” Elain pushed, when he was apparently not going to.

Azriel sighed, and let out a soft laugh, breaking the tension if only a little bit. “No, Elain, I don’t. Because this is supposed to be exciting for you, and I will not be the one to bum you out. We can talk about it later. Right now, you have a half nude mannequin in the window and I’m ninety percent sure there is a kid staring at its boob.”

Elain twirled around. Just as he said, a teenage boy was staring at the mannequin, eyeing its chest. “Great.” She threw her hands in the air. “My clientele is going to consist of prepubescent boys.”

Azriel laughed as Elain groaned, running a frustrated hand through her long, dark hair. Again.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy, starting her own business, but Elain had dreamt of it since she was young. She had been saving every penny since she was fifteen, all those years of waiting tables finally paying off. She had bought a small boutique on the downtown strip, just outside of the Rainbow, where the artists liked to play and city-goers went to admire masterpieces. She was supposed to open on Saturday, but they had so much to do. She was lucky she had Azriel, or she would be in the state of full blown panic.

Elain had moved to Velaris four years ago, just after she had turned eighteen. For a while, she lived with Nesta, but once she saved up enough, she moved into her own downtown studio apartment. Azriel lived in the apartment across the hall, and they had instantly hit it off. He was gentle, kind, and genuine in every way.

They had been inseparable ever since.

“Finish putting the dress on,” Azriel offered, “then we’re going to dinner. On me. And you’re going to relax. And maybe even enjoy yourself.”

Despite the stress, Elain smiled. “I can’t say no to that.”

“Good,” he grinned. “Let me grab my wallet and my keys…..Wherever I put them……”

“Try in the back, by the microwave.”

Azriel disappeared and Elain went to tend to her half-nude mannequin. The boy had disappeared, thankfully, but a man had taken his place. He wasn’t staring at the mannequin, which would have been strange, but up at the sign that Azriel had hung that morning. The Fawn.

When he caught Elain watching him, he smiled, and pointed up to the sign.

After clearing her throat, and lifting her chin, Elain stepped out onto the sidewalk, under Velaris’ fading sun. “May I help you?”

The man, not too much older than Elain herself, if she had to guess, had fiery red hair that was piled up in a bun. He was wearing a navy blue, tailored suit, and brown, leather shoes that looked far more expensive than Elain would spend.

He looked handsome, and wealthy, but what really caught her attention was his eyes: soft, golden.

“Sorry,” he apologized, a ginger smile playing on his lips. “I wasn’t aware they were putting a new shop in here so soon.”

“Looks like I bought it at just the right time,” Elain said, suggestively.

This took the stranger by surprise, as if Elain, in her blue jeans and soft pink t-shirt, did not look fit to be the owner of her own boutique. As if noticing her offense, the stranger spoke up. “Oh, no! I wasn’t…..You look so young, is all. To own your own business, that is.”

Elain got that often. She was twenty-three, and perhaps a little young to already be opening The Fawn, but she was talented, and she knew what she wanted. In the words of Azriel: You won’t know if you don’t try. There’s always risks, but I believe in you. “Just because I’m young does not mean I cannot be successful.”

The stranger grinned. “Very well. I like the name. Why The Fawn?”

“Fawns are beautiful, graceful, and gentle,” Elain shrugged. “Everything I want people to see in my designs.”

“You’ve designed everything that you’re selling?”

“Designed and sewed myself,” she confirmed, feeling a smug satisfaction at her words. Her studio apartment looked like a teeny-tiny one-man factory. 

The stranger looked impressed. “I’m Lucien Vanserra.”

And when he held out his hand, she shook it. “Elain Archeron.”

“It is lovely to meet you, Elain Archeron,” Lucien smiled, his hand holding onto hers for a beat longer than normal.

“Lucien!”

His smile faded as a town car pulled up, with the window rolled down, and a man who looked to be the older version of Lucien looking dissatisfied as he yelled out of it.

Elain felt uncomfortable at the man’s stare. He was eyeing her suspiciously, his short, perfectly sculpted red hair in perfect contrast to his brown eyes. “Lucien. It is time to go. We have a meeting in twenty minutes.”

After a deep breath, Lucien turned to Elain one final time. “May I come back later tonight? Will you be here?”

Elain wasn’t sure why, but she nodded. With that, Lucien threw open the passenger side door and sat. Before it was even closed, the car sped off.

Elain jumped when she found Azriel standing behind her, the key to the store in his hand. He handed Elain her bag. “I thought I’d grab this for you, so you wouldn’t have to go to the back. Ready to go?”

She nodded as he locked the door, and handed her the key. His demeanor was different, the sparkle in his eye had gone.

“Az?” Elain reached out to him, and he didn’t pull away as she swept her fingers down his arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, and his voice sounded normal, even if his posture had slumped. “I’m just hungry.”

“Okay,” Elain replied, careful not to push him.

Although, she swore he looked different.

Sad.

Disappointed.

  Nesta didn’t handle stress well.

She knew it. Her family knew it. And now everyone she worked with knew it.

And it was only her first night.

“Relax.” Another nurse, Viviane, came up behind her. “You’re doing fine.”

She nodded, even if she felt like a complete failure. She kept walking into the wrong rooms, unsure of where she needed to be. On top of that, she’d almost tripped an elderly man......with his own cane. 

“You’re taking over in room six,” she continued, handing Nesta a clipboard. “He should be set for a while, just keep an eye on his vitals.”

Nesta looked over the information. Car accident. Male. Brown hair. Hazel eyes. Height: 6’1”. Weight: 230 pounds. Twenty-three. Fractured fibula.

With a sigh, Nesta held the clipboard tightly to her side and made her way to room six. It was quiet, all except for the television playing softly in the background. He was asleep.

And, holy gods, he was beautiful.

It looked like he was carved from stone, at least from what Nesta could see past the blue hospital gown. His leg has been casted, and was propped on a pillow while he slept. The narcotics must have kicked in already.

Nesta placed the clipboard silently on the counter before running the water to wash her hands.

“Am I dead?”

Nesta whirled around, hands dripping, taking in the sight of the dreary-eyed patient lying on the cot.

“No,” Nesta said, simply, before grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser. “You’re fine.”

“You’re not very peppy,” he slurred, a yawn escaping him. “For a nurse.”

“Are nurses typically peppy?” Nesta snapped.

The patient just smiled.

Nesta glanced at the clipboard. Cassian. “How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful,” he said, with a chuckle. Then, he turned his head, and noticed her for the first time. “You’re a different nurse.”

Nesta blinked. “Yes.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Nesta cursed herself for blushing.

“Will you marry me?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “You’ve been given narcotics. Your mind is a little fuzzy. You should be feeling clearer, shortly.”

“I told you,” he whispered. “I feel wonderful.”

“Noted,” Nesta said. “We’re keeping you overnight to make sure everything is in order, and to be sure there is no internal bleeding. It looks like the bruising on your ribs is pretty severe.” I’d like to take a look – no, shut up, Nesta. “You will need someone to come get you and take you home tomorrow. Who would you like us to call? You’re emergency contact is a…..” Nesta flipped through the pages on the clipboard. “Rhysand?”

Cassian gave her a thumbs up. Nesta took that as a go for it. “Hit the red button if you need anything. I’ll be back to check on you after you’ve rested. A doctor will be in to see you soon.”

“You didn’t tell me your name.”

Nesta halted just before she reached the doorway. She turned, just slightly, to look over her shoulder. Cassian was watching her; his eyes having cleared slightly. “Nesta.”

“Nesta,” he repeated, quietly. “It was nice to meet you, Nesta.”

Nesta gave him a nod before stepping into the hallway.

Before she had made it too far, she heard Cassian call after her, “I can’t wait until our wedding!”

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 2 coming soon. Let me know what you think! 

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #feysand #elriel #elucien #nessian #tamlin the tampon #morrigan #amren #the inner circle #the court of dreams #modern au #Let me know what you think