In lieu of reaching 700 followers, I finally wrote this down. This little image had been floating in my head ever since I finished Tower of Dawn and I’m glad I wrote it down at last. Sorry if the writing isn’t too great, it was a quick drabble.
The glimmering rays of the brazen sun streamed through the billowing curtains that concealed the windows, illuminating Josefin’s gold-bronze eyes. Yrene watched her 10 month old daughter crawl across the living room, occasionally stopping to pick up a toy or two and start playing. Chaol was holed up in the kitchen, cooking up lunch as Yrene kept an eye their child and went through some old books and scrolls on healing herbs. These days, she was too preoccupied taking care of baby Josie to get any reading and research done; the only thing she read in the past year were bedtime stories. Not that she minded, of course. She loved their little girl with everything she had.
Josie wasn’t really a part of their plan-at least not when they had her. A couple years after the war when Yrene and Chaol moved out of the Palace and into their own house nearby. During the housewarming, Yrene found out she was with child. She noticed symptoms for a few weeks beforehand but she knew for sure at the party. Needless to say she was surprised, given she thought she had been taking her tonic, but some careful reminiscing alerted her that she missed her dose a couple of times, resulting in an accidental pregnancy. Regardless, she was delighted for she believed they were ready and when she told Chaol of the news that night, her husband was ecstatic and in tears.
When she gave birth and saw the face of her little girl-tan skin, brown hair like her father’s and an eye colour that was a blend of both her parents, she burst into tears of happiness. She knew she’d never love anyone or anything more than this bundle in her arms. They decided to name her after Yrene’s mother and what she represented for them-Josefin Hope Westfall. The baby was well loved with doting parents and a King and Queen as her godparents. Dorian and Aelin didn’t even waste a single breath to say yes when they had asked and were overjoyed and honored at the prospect.
Watching her now brought all those memories back to the surface and as Yrene glanced at her daughter, she saw Josie was standing, her tiny hands placed on the golden couch for support and movement-the couch Chaol was insistent on bringing back from Antica. She had been doing this a lot recently, as was normal for a child her age but what Yrene didn’t expect was for her daughter to let go. She was about to rush towards her baby when she halted and noticed her balancing on her own and looking up at her mother with big, wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth.
And then she took a step towards her momma.
“CHAOL!” Yrene screamed for her husband. “CHAOL GET IN HERE. NOW!” she shrieked as she laughed in delight. Hearing loud footsteps, she heard Chaol rush towards her, concern masking his features. “What happened? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, worry filling his eyes and voice. “Yes”, she cried in joy, her eyes never leaving her baby. “Look! She’s walking. Chaol our baby is walking!”
At that, he turned around and looked at his precious daughter, shock and love filling his features as he also broke into a grin.
Noticing her euphoric parents, Josefin cracked a smile and took another step. And another, and as Yrene kept walking back and cooing, “Come here, darling. Come to mama. YES! Good girl”, the tiny human kept following her mother, with her father in tow.
“Yes, sweetheart. You’re doing wonderful”, Chaol called out to his daughter, encouraging her to go on.
-
At long last, Josie finally trotted over to her parents and jumped to Chaol’s lap, flailing her arms around his neck and screaming “Papa!” as she burst into a fit of excited giggles. He kissed the top of her head over and over, eyes brimming with held-back tears. He felt Yrene fall to her knees beside him and hug them both, squealing in delight and smothering their daughter in kisses.
Amidst the laughter and tears, his baby’s first step took Chaol down memory lane and back to a time years before where he learned to walk again; to the day where it all began and he had kissed his wife after a long wait. Seemed like forever ago, that afternoon. And now here they were, with their own home and family and everything he could have ever wished for and more. He looked at his wife and caught her staring at him as if she was recalling the same thing. Chaol smiled at her, at the woman who had surpassed oceans and mountains and forests, who had healed him-body and soul; the woman who had the strongest will and heart and the woman who had stolen his own. He smiled wistfully at her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close, placing a kiss on her forehead.
“Thank you, Yrene Towers.” he whispered. She raised her head from where it was resting on the crook of his neck and looked up, confusion lining her gaze. “For what?” she asked. Chaol placed his hand on the side of her face, tracing his thumb along her cheekbone and brought it to his own, kissing her lovingly. He broke the kiss to look into those eyes which at first glance made him think of sunshine-the eyes he’d never get tired of getting lost into. “For everything.”
#thanksvember 30! I really really love this fic. @runesandfaes did such a great job in so few words to show a really sweet moment between Chaol, Yrene and their daughter learning to walk. I love the parallel back to when Chaol was learning to walk and the cameo of the golden couch. So sweet.
Summary:When a sick Cassian refuses to stay in bed, Rhys is forced to send in reinforcements.
(Post-bonding. Post-ACOWAR. NSFW.)
***
“Traitorous ass.”
“I’m not sorry,” said Rhys.
“You should be,” said Cassian.
“You left me no choice,” said Rhys.
“It’s a cold,” Cassian snarled. “I’m your commander. You can’t just put me on leave because of a damn cold.”
At any other time, Rhys might have conceded. Cassian was the best warrior in all of Prythian, worthy of all his titles and reputation ten times over. But as a patient, he was the absolute worst. The stubborn prick had refused Madja’s orders to rest, even though he was on the verge of total collapse.
“I’m your High Lord,” said Rhys. “And you know as well as I do that this isn’t just a cold.”
It was rare for a fae to succumb to illness, but when they did it was almost unbearable. The pain was like being pierced with ash—not enough to kill, but enough to incapacitate. Headaches, soreness, chills, fever, nausea…though the symptoms were similar to that of human influenza, the severity was magnified a thousandfold. Some even required a sleeping draught so they wouldn’t suffer through the worst of it.
Cassian, like the good soldier he was, simply carried on. Until it was clear that he wouldn’t be able to much longer. It took the combined efforts of Azriel, Morrigan, and Rhys to ambush him in the war camps, winnow him home, and haul him into bed. Of course, he fought them every single inch of the way and there were serious considerations of tying him up. But Cassian had grown so dangerously weak that Rhys dismissed them.
Besides, he had one card up his sleeve and if there was ever a good a time to use it, it would be now.
“Pulling rank is a cheap shot,” said Cassian. “I can leave whenever I want, you know. High Lord or not, you can’t actually stop me.”
Rhys smirked.
“One, since you can barely stand, that argument is moot. Two, you’re absolutely right. I can’t stop you from being a complete idiot. But shecan.”
Cassian groaned. “I swear to the old gods, if you actually brought Feyre into this I’ll…”
Rhys clucked his tongue. “Oh no, dear brother. It’s not my darling Feyre I called to keep watch over you.”
Thanksvember 29! I really love this fic called Fever. I enjoyed how @lady-therion portrayed Nesta. She hit the entire gammut of characteristics (snarky, worried, vulnerable, caring, short-tempered, flirty, you name it!) but it really worked here. I found this nurse Nesta to be endearing and relatable and the dynamic between her and Cassian was very sweet. Just go read the damned thing.
The language of shadows was complex, this Elain knew. It was why shadowsingers were so rare and so feared. Shadows were almost a living thing, their whispers hard to decipher, their powers hard to tame; and, Cauldron, how powerful they could be. Azriel was the most famed shadowsinger in Prythian’s history and the only one currently known to be alive. It was no wonder, then, that he found it hard to explain the nature of his powers, the nature of his shadow-work.
Even Elain, who knew Azriel better than anyone, didn’t quite understand it. But she didn’t have to really. All she had to do was trust it, those tendrils of darkness that followed him around like favored pets. She was fascinated by them, in fact, fascinated by how Azriel wove them in and out existence, how he used them to transport himself from place to place, ever-silent.
It still shocked her though, the first time a soft, black tendril wrapped around her wrist. It writhed against her, shuddered in and out of life – but it didn’t hurt. Elain would have been scared of it, were it not for how she could feel Azriel in it, feel his essence, that dark, that powerful thing he hid under a stone-still exterior.
“It’ll protect you,” Azriel told her, suddenly appearing at her side, stepping out of a large shadow he called up. Elain was too used to his sudden appearances to jump, but her heart still skipped a beat in surprise. “Tell you if there is danger on the way.”
“Can’t my own powers do that? You needn’t overextend yourself for me,” Elain replied, worried as she stared at this dark thing entwined around her fingers.
Azriel placed a gentle hand around her waist, pulling her to his side with the sureness that came with years of being together. He kissed her temple briefly in greeting, as he was often wont to do. “Yes, I suppose,” he said. “But I’d feel better if my shadows were with you anyways, with the rising threat in the Steppes.”
Elain frowned. More and more Illyrian war bands were going rogue these days, forgetting what their High Lord and Lady and their Inner Circle had done for them. She knew the others were trying their best to contain the situation, but they were limited in a way the war bands weren’t. The rogues weren’t trying to contain the violence like Rhys wanted the leaders of his court to do.
“Besides,” Azriel continued, tracing distracting circles into her skin, “the shadows have a mind of their own. I doubt I could pull them back from you now.”
And, this time his voice wasn’t where it was before, instead reflected in her head, quiet and mysterious, we can communicate through them.
That was when she noticed another tendril wrapping loosely around her neck; likely what was passing messages back-and-forth between them. She shivered a bit of the feeling of Azriel so connected to her… it made her think a little bit of a mating bond, not that either of them knew what that was like. She grew envious, sometimes, of the bonds both her sisters had with their mates. It didn’t make her any less grateful to be with Azriel, any less eager to share her eternity with him. But to have this, and with Azriel… Elain delighted at the thought.
You like this, Azriel’s voice came to her, full of wicked wonder.
Elain looked up to meet his eyes, finding them already staring at her. She nodded, cheeks feeling slightly warm. He still had that effect on her, even after all this time spent together.
Well then, let me teach you how to speak back, he whispered in her head, running his hand up her arm, tracing the shadow that was dancing there, it seems hardly fair that I can’t hear you.I do so love the sound of your voice.
Elain’s cheeks pinked even more, red-hot, but she kept her eyes on him determinedly. “Teach me,” she commanded.
And he did, teaching her with same patient strictness that he’d used to teach Feyre. But, unlike her sister, Elain was very much a natural at the shadow-work. It was odd actually, how fast she took to it. Cassian likened it to being an Illyrian born for flight. But none of the rest of the Inner Circle could wrap their heads around her propensity for it, how she didn’t seem to mind having a tendril of darkness around her wrist or neck. She knew they started to wonder if she was a shadowsinger as well, if this was another of her gifts. But that wasn’t the case at all. The shadows that surrounded her were wholly Azriel’s. But, like Azriel, they were undeniably connected to her as well. A bond of sorts, just like she’d always craved.
She loved it, this new ability to speak to her chosen partner in life whenever she needed to, whenever she wanted to. To feel him with her when things got hard, like when the visions overwhelmed her and he was too far.
Breathe Elain, he’d tell her, in that strange shadow-voice that sounded like an echo. Breathe and work through it. I’m with you.
He often sought her out too, for idle conversation when he was busy spying in some far-away territory or when he needed a calming influence. (Azriel’s stoic silences hid a huge well of intent, of fierce passion.)
The clans are getting worse and worse, he’d say, it’s a struggle not to show them a piece of my mind,the narrow-minded bastards.
I know, my love, she’d reply, but you’re far better than them.
Lovely Elain. Always seeing the good in all of us.
So the shadows were a blessing really. A wonderful blessing in her immortal life.
She especially thought so some months later, when the worst happened. The tensions with the rogue war-bands had risen to the point of real concern. Rhys and Feyre had asked Azriel to spy from a distance, to find out how to take them down with the least amount of bloodshed.
Azriel was, of course, ready to do his duty. But Elain… Elain was worried; her visions had been especially vague the past month, as if the entire future was unsure. She hated it, being unable to help him foresee any danger. It made him similarly concerned, so much so that he insisted she keep Truth-Teller with her. He had many blades, he assured her, but this one would do best to protect her, should she need it.
Elain held it close to her as he flew away, disappearing over the horizon.
Be careful, she’d called to him, the tendril around her wrist snaking up to her neck, a comforting blanket over her shoulders.
Always, came the reply, his voice soothing in its calmness.
She tried to relax after that, tried to focus on the big garden she’d been cultivating over the years in the back of the house she and Azriel shared. She grew a multitude of flowers there, and all sorts of herbs that could be used for medicines and tonics, even for cooking. She sold them in a small store she’d been running for the past decade. Quiet work, perhaps, but fulfilling.
But nothing could take her mind off Azriel, off his mission. She tried to see the possible outcomes, to use her gift, but nothing clear was coming through. She thought of checking in through the shadow-bond but didn’t want to risk distracting him.
So she waited. And waited. And waited.
And then, suddenly, the tendril of shadow that lay twisted around her arm grew, became a swirling mass around her, infused with Azriel’s power, calling to her. The shadows’ murmurings were soft even in their panic, and indecipherable to all but her and Azriel.
Lady of fortune, they called, whispered in a thousand different voices, the master is in danger, the master is in danger.
As if those words unlocked something in her, a vision passed before her eyes, lightening-fast. But it was enough to know what was going to happen any second.
Azriel was going be captured by some of the rogue Illyrians. That future was set in stone. Nothing was going to change that.
Elain knew what she had to. She spared herself all of two minutes to pull on some tough leather pants and a loose tunic, sheathing Truth-Teller in a belt around her waist. The shadows followed her, so she gathered them close, encouraged them to lay in wait.
I’m going to get him back, she told them, using her shadow-bond with Azriel to keep control of them. But I need a little help.
She ran to her sister’s river house, barged in to find Feyre already waiting, Rhys and Cassian by her side, all of them decked in their Illyrian armor. They were clearly expecting complications, so she wasted no time.
“Azriel’s been captured,” she said. “We have to go get him. Now.”
To their credit, they believed her immediately, anger written on their faces as they gathered the rest of the weaponry, readied themselves to winnow to the camp Azriel had been spying on. Elain soon realized they fully expected her to stay behind. She supposed she couldn’t blame them for it – she hadn’t joined them in any sort of battle since the war.
But this was Azriel.Her Azriel. The shadows hidden in her skin flared slightly, feeding on her anger. She forced them down with her tenuous control.
“I’m coming with you,” Elain said, staring her sister and brothers-in-law in the eye.
Feyre hesitated. “I don’t know, Elain, you’re not as trained as the rest of us. Azriel would never forgive us if you got injured.”
Elain bared her teeth – a sight so rare that everyone stilled. She gripped Truth-Teller where it was strapped to her hip, the shadow on her wrist undulating with her distress. “He might not be my Cauldron-given mate, but he is mine. I’m coming, you can’t stop me.”
There wasn’t much any of them could say to that, so Feyre simply took Elain’s hand and winnowed them out, Rhys following suit with Cassian.
The carnage the others wreaked when they arrived at the camp was indescribable, but Elain didn’t care about that. She had her own role here. So, instead, she gathered the shadows tight to her, coaxed them into guiding her until they pointed her to a hidden tent at the edge of camp.
The master, they said, the master. He waits for us.
Elainran.
And when she finally found Azriel, the sight of him made her see red. It was a fury unlike anything she had ever felt, possessive and purely fae. Because they had him strapped up to a post like an animal for slaughter, his wings – beautiful, delicate things – pinned down with Cauldron-damned nails. Fourof them. His armor had been stripped from him, leaving him in only his undershorts, not a Siphon in sight.
(And he was surrounded by young Illyrian females, a part of her noted. They were strapped to similar posts in the tent, tired and obviously malnourished, barely blinking at the sight of Elain barging in, wielding her wicked blade.)
The sole Illyrian guard smirked at her, readying his own weapons, taunting her as he stepped on one of Azriel’s wings to get to her.
Elain let out a scream – no, a growl – as she charged, Azriel’s shadows around her writhing with their anger, their fury. Logically, she knew she had little chance against a fully-grown Illyrian male. Elain was no warrior, wasn’t built for it, abhorred violence even… but she would be damned if she let this stand. So she ran forwards anyways, looking for whatever advantage she could use.
And then, as if sensing her thoughts, a long shadow appeared in front of her and she slipped into without hesitation. The next thing she knew, she appeared in front of the Illyrian, not even pausing long enough to see his shocked expression before she plunged Truth-Teller deep into his bare throat. He went down with a gurgle, his lifeblood flowing out of him.
Elain barely paid attention, running to where Azriel was still pinned, falling to her knees beside him.
“Azriel?” she asked, voice trembling, hands hovering over him, unsure where she could touch him without hurting him. Mother above, she could cry. How could they do this to him? To this wonderful, selfless male? To Azriel?
(If she didn’t know the entire war-band was already dead or soon to be, Elain would have taken Truth-Teller and run them through. The sheer violence of these thoughts surprised even her.)
Azriel, she called again, this time through the shadow-bond. She watched as black tendrils rose on his skin, protecting him even as they conveyed her messaged. Azriel, please.
“Elain,” he groaned finally, cracking his eyes open, thank the Mother. “You’re here.” He gave her a small smile, even through his pain.
“Of course I am,” she whispered back. There’s nowhere else I’d be.
Lovely Elain, Azriel sent back, half-delirious.
“I have to… I have to get you free. I’m so sorry, but this is going to hurt.”
Cauldron, Elain didn’t want to do this to him, didn’t want to cause him more pain. But she had to. So, she gathered whatever courage she had left, and reached for the first nail. She pulled it out with all her might, hating herself for the way Azriel bit off a pained groaned. She whispered a thousand apologies under her breath, saying sorry over and over as she continued to the next one. And the next. By the last nail, she was fully crying, body shaking with it.
I can’t do this, she thought. I can’t.
But then the shadows buffeted her, comforting her with their innate sense of Azriel. He was here with her. Even in his suffering, he was here.
So Elain took hold of the last, blasted nail and pulled it free.
She collapsed after, choking on a sob, but managed to find it in her to break the chains around Azriel’s hands, his shadows helping her along, whispering encouragements to her all the while. When he was finally, blessedly free, Azriel reached out to her, cupping a hand over her tear-stained cheek.
He seemed more lucid now, looking at her with clear, hazel eyes. Mother, but she loved those eyes, loved him, so much. She put her hand over his, bringing it down a little so she could press a soft kiss to his bruised wrist.
Thank you, he told her through his shadows – theirshadows.Thank you.
And then he was forcing himself to sit up. Elain immediately reached out to help, heaving him up until he was leaning his torso back against the pole, slightly winded. Elain pulled away, ready to call for help, when his hand on her wrist stopped her, tugged her back into him despite the bruises littering his skin.
She made a sound of protest, but then Azriel’s voice sounded through her head, shadows wreathing them both until they were half-hidden underneath them.
Don’t go yet. I want you close. Please.
Elain gave in quickly, allowing him to cradle her against him, hands running over her again and again, as if to reassure himself that she was really there with him. She buried her wet face in his neck, breathing him in, her breath still hitching, tears still flowing.
Azriel’s shadows were comfort around them, their soft whispering a much-wanted familiarity.
“I’m sorry that you had to do that,” Azriel said, voice absolutely wrecked. “I could have escaped, but they took my Siphons and put some their runaway females in here so if I tried to destroy their warriors, I’d destroy them too. And by that time I was too weak to do anything else but send my shadows to you.”
Elain hated that they had done this to him, preyed on his good nature so that he wouldn’t escape. It was clever of them in the cruelest kind of way, to take his Siphons so he couldn’t control the sheer breadth of his killing power. To put innocents in his way so he wouldn’t attack.
“Bastards,” she hissed, surprising them both. But she pressed a kiss to Azriel’s throat, felt him tremble beneath her as he was overcome with emotion. “And you have nothing to be sorry about. They took you from me. You are not at fault here.”
He wrapped himself tighter around her, his shadows following, until they were both fully ensconced in their shimmering darkness. Their murmurings had quieted by now, leaving just Azriel and Elain and the shadow-bond linking them together.
The females? he asked her, suddenly worried.
They’re fine. Last I saw, Cassian had barged in; I’m sure he’s taking care of them.
They lapsed into silence, Elain encouraging one of the shadowy tendrils to cover Azriel’s open wounds, to stem the blood still flowing from them until he was willing to be tended to by the rest of their family.
I’m sure the others are getting worried by now, she ventured after a long while.
Let them. Just for a moment longer.
For all her better judgment, Elain did just that, curling herself around Azriel protectively. It soothed her wild instincts; the animal in her that wouldn’t rest until the other half of her was safe. She was sure it did the same for him, this ancient warrior of hers. The shadow-bond between them was awash with feelings of comfort, of reassurance.
And when the shadows finally lifted – following Azriel’s command – the others found them like that, wrapped together, surrounded by four bloody nails and the last vestiges of darkness.
But Azriel didn’t let go of Elain even as they were winnowed back to Velaris. And Elain continued to cling to him when the healer came to their home. All the while, they spoke to one another. But no one else heard a word they said.
No, they saved their words for their bond. For each other. As it should be.
Thanksvember 27 - I love Azriel, and this is such a wonderful fic by @radientwings focusing on how his shadows might work. His shadows are the one thing that I am most curious about him in the series, so it was lovely to read such a well written interpretation of them.
Summary:Welcome to Velaris High - your favorite idiots are now teaching innocent High School students.One day, biology teacher Elain finds a love note addressed to her, without anyone taking responsibility for it. She’s left to figure out the hopeless romantic - all the while fighting her silly crush for the nerdy math teacher.
“Okay, class, we’re done for today. As soon as you’ve copied your homework, you can…” Elain broke off, already having lost the room full of hormone-driven teenagers to the liberating break within their grasp.
#Thanksvember 26! Okay, so let’s talk about this lovely fic. I really enjoy the subtle mystery that follows this entire journey. I enjoy that @julesherondalex keeps us guessing, while simultaneously weaving a sweet and tender story about two shy teachers and just a slew of mishaps worthy of a Shakespearian drama.
So, this morning I was scrolling through Tumblr and I saw this post who said “i just want a fic with cassian defending nesta!!! idc what the context even is i just want to see him being offended on nesta’s behalf and being ready to throw hands” and I obviously couldn’t resist. The post is this one.
Nesta is not really present in this specific part, if you want more of this au you can always send an ask (and a prompt if you want) and yall know I would continue this without hesitation. Hope you enjoy, as always:)
#thanksvember 25! This is an excellent fic that I really loved. @julemmaes did such a great job translating some of the canon tension from ACOFAS into a modern world. It’s ripe with emotion, drama and quite a bit of heart. I love how earnestly Cassian comes to Nesta’s defense even in the face of going against his entire family. I like the reference to some very real psychological struggles. I think a lot of people can relate to it.
Here it is! The first part of my new Elriel fic. I’m so excited to be posting this. I’m going to try to post weekly, but I make no promises. As a reminder, this is a dark AU. I’ve placed overall trigger warnings below, so please consider them before you proceed. I’m also trying to keep the parts between 2-5K words, just because when they get longer, they become a beast to edit. Let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Thanksvember 24 - This is an amazing fic called I Do Bad Things To You. The mob angle may have been done before, but I don’t think with as much care and regard that @tswaney17 has been giving it. I how the canon personalities of the characters translate so well into this modern AU. Its very obvious that @tswaney17 has done her research. I especially love all the details around Elain as a surgeon. The story is compelling and well written and every chapter has me wanting more.
A fluffy little domestic Nessian one-shot based on the adorable prompt from @sayosdreams! The original post is here.
“I make my husband a sandwich everyday for work. Once, I jokingly kissed it to show him that I made it ‘with love’. But then for some reason it stuck, and that just became the habit. Make sandwich, give it a little smooch, put into baggie. Except when I’m mad at him. Then that sandwich isn’t made with love. It gets no kiss. Yeah, enjoy that sandwich, jerkface. I hope it tastes like despair.”
——————————————————————————
Nesta hadn’t meant to go to bed angry last night. She and Cassian had been through a lot as of late between work stress and buying their first home, but he hadn’t really done anything wrong. She felt especially prickly the previous day, and there wasn’t much he could have done differently to prevent her frustration. When he finally snapped at her, telling her to either talk to him about what was bothering her or stop taking it out on him, she had marched directly upstairs to read in bed. Before she knew it, she was squinting toward her blaring alarm clock, book still on her chest.
The shower was running in their en-suite bathroom. It wasn’t especially rare that Cassian arose before his alarm, and on those days, he would get ready early to head into the office and get a head start on the day. Since he was likely leaving earlier than usual, she tossed her hair into a high, messy bun and padded to the kitchen to get started making his lunch. He never expected it of her, but Nesta felt it was one of the small ways she could show her love to her husband with how poorly she expressed herself most days.
He had pissed her off, but she didn’t think he should starve for it.
With the sandwich supplies laid out in front of her, she got started making it. It was possible that she was using a little more force than necessary as she moved, but since it didn’t alter the quality of the sandwich, she didn’t do anything to correct it.
Her husband walked into the kitchen as she was placing the two pieces of bread together, the softest glint of mischief in his hazel eyes. He walked over to her and placed a chaste kiss to her temple as she worked.
“Morning,” he greeted her, very poorly masking his amusement at her grouchiness.
She leaned into him, but she didn’t respond. He huffed a laugh through his nose, sending her baby hairs flying around her face at the disruption. She cut a glare his way, but it took all of her focus to resist her lips pulling up at the corners. He was so infuriatingly unbothered by their bickering the night before, and although his mood was contagious, she wasn’t in the mood to be deterred so quickly.
Cassian busied himself with gathering the other items for his lunch: an orange, some chips, and a cookie as dessert. Nesta had long since told him he had the palette of a 5-year-old, but he was set in his ways. He watched her as she adjusted the sandwich in the center of the napkin, wrapped it, and placed it in the small plastic bag. He cut her a subtle side-eye, earning an identical one from her in response.
“What?” she demanded.
“Nothing. Thank you, babe. I’ll see you later?” He gathered all of his things into his bag and started toward the front door.
“I’ll be here,” she responded, as she waved him off.
—
Several hours later, Nesta sent a new draft of her work to her editor for review, just as she heard a key turning in the front door. Cassian walked into the house, plopping himself down on the couch next to her and laying his head back dramatically. She adjusted her laptop to correct its position form all his jostling and fixed her gaze on his profile.
“What are you doing?”
“Long lunch today. Thought I’d come to eat together and maybe catch a nap. I didn’t sleep well last night,” he replied, although his demeanor was just as cheerful as ever. It irritated the hell out of Nesta that he still refused to acknowledge their tiff from the night before.
I hope your sandwich tastes like despair, you prick.
He sat up, pulling all his lunch contents from his workbag. He got everything situated just as he liked it before starting to dig in; the sandwich being the first to earn his attention. He pulled it from the bag to balance it on his huge palm as he unwrapped it with the other hand. His eyes snapped up to Nesta as he finished.
“Fix it,” he stated, holding the sandwich out toward her.
“It’s fixed. I made it this morning,” she replied, unsure of his meaning.
He leveled a playful glare her way, shoving the sandwich in her direction more forcefully. “Fix it, Nesta.”
“Stop pushing your sandwich at me, you brute! Would you just eat already?”
“Not until you fix it,” he pleaded, his eyes rounding as he implored her to complete the final step. “Please? I’m hungry.”
She snatched the sandwich from his napkin, holding it in both hands. Maintaining eye contact to gauge if she was right in her assumption, she lowered her mouth and placed a kiss in the center of the bread. Cassian’s smile was blinding.
Nesta leaned behind her laptop to hide her smile as she tucked her feet tightly under Cassian’s thigh. A peace offering, despite her best efforts against letting things go.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he beamed, turning his attention to his now perfect sandwich.
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If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, please send me an ask, a message, leave a comment, or reblog! I’ll be happy to add you!
[And, if I’ve left you off my list unintentionally, please don’t hesitate to remind me! I promise I won’t be offended!]
Thanksvember 23 is one by @thewayshedreamed that I love in its simplicity. It’s a small little argument Cassian and Nesta get into, but its still compelling. It’s sweet and super endearing the way the two of them are written and the subtle way they work through it. Great read!
It’s Summer and I’m thinking of snow. It’s obviously too hot.
The One with the Snow Storm: Part I
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My boots crunched in the snow and I sank with every step I took. The dense white burden was at least two feet high, and it came up to my knees. Illyrian leathers kept me warm, although they were loose, and hung from my body in an unpleasant, unattractive way—I did not care. I hated them. But in any other clothing I would freeze.
The cold was like nothing I had experienced before. Every breathe I took hurt my lungs. Any exposed skin burned. My nose felt like it was going to freeze and shatter off.
Everything was white. The trees, the village in the distance, my cabin. Yes, my cabin I reminded myself. It was covered in snow before me. It was rickety—in desperate need of repairs. Small, with only a tiny kitchenette, living room and hearth, one bedroom, one bath. A cabin meant for an Illyrian bachelor, now occupied by the village witch, the outsider, that Made fae who no one would touch, literally.
I had tried.
What I wanted was to be touched. Hard, soft, fast, slow. It did not matter. The Illyrians were beautiful, muscled, with calloused hands. And I wanted one. I hoped it would be rough. But nothing. No one would come near me.
I had tried to get liquor as well. And failed. I had also tried to gamble with some jewels I still had; but no one would play. It seemed I had a cautionary sign on my back.
Now, after months of living here I kept to myself. When I went to the village it was a brief visit, and only because I desperately needed something. I did not bother with anyone or anything and they did not bother with me. I was a ghost.
A ghost that lived in a little run-down cabin on the hill.
When I first came to the mountains, Cassian had made me an offer to stay at his residence. A place I had never seen because I had chosen the other option instead—an abandoned cabin. There had not been time to build me a proper home, Cassian had said, and had apologized. I had sneered.
I do not want you to build me a house.
Instead he insisted on slowly repairing this place. The first thing he did was install locks on my door. I let him. But I did not talk to him. I knew it was his job to check on me—Feyre had insisted. But silence was all that met him when he came.
For three months now he had come, three times a week, on schedule. Cassian brought things from my sisters, cheese, bread, flowers, books… I threw away everything aside from the books. I needed them. I did not want to eat. I did not want to decorate. But the books were an escape from all of this, and they allowed me to travel, to be someone else, to live a different life—a life I did not want to throw away.
Cassian was coming today. So, I stopped drifting away in the snow outside and picked up a few pieces of firewood in my arms. They were heavy and I was weak. All I could carry was three logs, but that would be enough for the hearth. I only lit the fire when he came, because otherwise the bat would throw a fit.
I slowly waded through the snow to my front door. I had left it ajar and the cold had crept inside. The hearth waited for me.
Once I had the fire started, I plopped myself on the couch. Barely a couch, at that. It was worn, blue, and mine. I had insisted it be brought to this place from my old apartment. It had the perfect slump, still smelled like turned wine, and made Cassian angrier than a hellhound. He refused to sit on it. Which pleased me.
I could feel him coming suddenly. He was flying fast, moving more aggressively than usual. The wind howled outside, but it was as if I could hear him, see him, flying straight down to the snow, landing as hard as a mallet to stone.
I grabbed a book and opened it, pretending I had been reading and put on the appearance that I did not want to be disturbed.
“Hello Nesta,” Cassian said, as he stepped through the door I had not locked. He gently tossed a bag on the table by the door. It thumped, obviously full of whatever he had brought. I knew he did not expect me to respond.
Not a word had been spoken from my lips to him since I had come here. I told myself today would be no different. I might look, I might glare, or smirk, or sneer, but otherwise I was mute.
Cassian never stopped talking when he came. If I were going to be silent, he would refuse to shut up.
“The bag has food, clothes, books—from Elain,” he said, rather shortly. It was always things from Elain. “She misses you—wishes you would allow a visit,” he pulled a chair back from the table and sat down.
His whole body was tense. I could see his muscles twitch beneath his leathers. His black hair was pulled tighter than it usually was, in a half bun wrapped in red thread, the rest of the tendrils hanging down against his neck. His eyes bore into me. Cassian smirked, “Sadly, I told Elain hell would probably freeze over before you allowed anyone to come here.”
I silently agreed and kept my nose in my book.
A couple minutes passed where he said nothing. Strange, unlike him to be so quiet. Slowly I looked up from my book and made a passing glance. His eyes met mine and I quickly returned to my cover of paper and words.
“There’s a storm coming. A bad storm. I am worried for you to be alone here during it. I will not be able to fly—”
Instantly, I turned and gave him a dark look of steel. I would be fine. Leave me alone, I said with a clench of my teeth.
Cassian crossed him arms, challenging my expression. Still tense, still tired, but ready to fight me.
You will not stay here.
Yes, I will. It is my job to protect you, and I will not disobey my High Lord and High Lady.
Was this conversation really happening? This was not the first time I felt as if we talked in our minds. Not the first time I looked at Cassian and knew what he was thinking, what he was saying to me and only me. It made me shirk back into my couch, clutch my book harder, and debate whether to throw it at him—
“Nesta, I am sorry to invade your sanctuary. But I will be staying. You may take the couch. I will sleep in your bed,” he finished, and started laughing. His shoulders seemed to sigh, relax.
He had a bad day. Now he was at ends with having to stay with me. Then I realized why the bag he had thrown on the table was so heavy. His things were inside.
When is this storm? I slammed my book shut and got up from my couch.
“The storm is coming tonight,” Cassian said, and I wondered if it was an answer or a coincidence. “I’ll be out of your hair before you know it. But in the meantime, I brought some knitting to do…”
I turned from him and rolled my eyes. If he was not testing me, he was joking, the stupidest things came out of his mouth—
“Perhaps I will knit you a blanket to keep you warm, your skin and bones. I am surprised you have not died from the cold yet; it is notorious here. With no fat on you, you hardly stand a chance. If you get caught outside in a whitewash, and cannot find your way back, you will be dead in an hour.”
From where he still sat at the table, he looked me over without shame, slowly starting at my feet and working his way up to my face. It was primal.
The air between us always changed so quickly.
A storm was coming, and Cassian was going to ride it out with me.
I looked back at him with menace. The arrogance. To think I could not survive some snow. I had survived the cauldron, I had clawed my way out and took a chunk of it with me, but snow—I shook my head, and went for his bag. I picked it up and shoved it at him. A demand that he leaves.
Cassian sighed, “If you really want me to leave, I will. But” he pressed, “I might get caught in the storm on my way home. And if something happens to me, can you live with yourself?”
Absolutely, I wanted to yell at him, and at that cocky grin that replaced the lament on his face.
Yet I found myself surrender. I found myself back at a place I had not allowed myself to go in a long time. A place where I shielded a broken warrior’s body, sacrificing myself, ready to go—and then I snapped back, and found Cassian staring at me with concern.
Do not, I thought. Do not look at me like that.
Cassian stood a little taller, much taller than I, and changed his expression. He was waiting for an answer. He really was giving me a choice—a horrible one, but a choice.
Stay, I relented. Stay here. But stay away from me.
Cassian smiled. “I’m going to make your dinner.”
I wanted to throttle him. I wanted to scream because he irritated me. With that smile, that smirk, that cocky, arrogant, toned body—
Cassian’s smile grew and he turned, heading for the kitchen. I swore there was extra swagger as he moved his ass. Fucking bastard.
For a moment I prayed the storm took us both.
#Thanksvember day 21 is a great comfy read called The One with the Snowstorm. What I really like is that Cassian actually says that he is sorry for his part in Nesta’s exile. I am not bitter about it, but it was an interesting turn. They need to meet halfway here and I rarely see it so well written as @joysbell has done here!
For the prompt: ‘you’re a vet and i’m pleading with you to save my goldfish and you’re the first vet i’ve visited to not ask me if i’m sure i don’t want to go and buy another goldfish for three dollars’ au
Please like and reblog? I’m trying to make friends in this fandom because you’re all so wonderful and I don’t want to just observe from afar anymore. ACCEPT ME! VALIDATE ME! LOVE ME!
Now enjoy some Feysand goodness.
***
“Please somebody help!”
Feyre burst into the vet’s office in a frenzy, her hair flying all around her and her eyes wide as saucers.
She then immediately froze, looking around the tiny waiting room and seeing everyone staring at her, even the various dogs and cats and the one random parrot.
“Um, ma’am?”
Feyre jumped at the secretary’s voice, whipping her head around to look at the most stunning blonde woman she had ever seen. The woman gave her a bright, sweet smile.
“Are you alright?” She asked cautiously.
“I – what – no!” Feyre finally managed to spit out, rushing to the counter. “Please, I need to see the vet immediately, it’s an emergency. No one will see her and I’m getting really scared and –“
“Slow down, honey,” the woman – Mor, according to her nametag – said gently. “What kind of pet is it, and what’s wrong?”
Heat bloomed on Feyre’s cheeks and she glanced behind her at the rest of the waiting room eavesdropping on her. She leaned over the counter as close to Mor as she could get and mumbled incoherently.
#Thanksvember 20 - What a fun read. I love how frantic and much personality Feyre had here. I love how dedicated to her fish she was, and how that made her super endearing. Cute read from @azrielsiphons!
Day 1 - Like Coming Home- It has a super rare “wholesome plot twist”! Without spoiling anything too huge, I really like that @julesherondalex took the time to talk about how important it is to take care of yourself first. You can’t love someone else properly, the way they deserve, if you don’t have that same love for yourself. I wasn’t expecting the heartbreaking scene, but the beautiful way in which that topic was was approached neither took away from the story or the joy.
Day 2 - Must Love Dogs - An incredibly fluffy (literally) fic that I loved reading. @rosehallshadowsinger did a really great job weaving Azriel and Elain’s canon personalities into this adorable AU scenario. It is obvious @rosehallshadowsinger took care to create believable personalities for two characters that didn’t get POVs in the books.
Day 3 - Striking Matches - I have to say that I wasn’t at all attracted to an AU fic about firefighters. I was also not a big Rowaelin fan before that, but I was work procrastinating so I gave it a try. Wellll, 30 parts later, I found myself delighted at the writing and sad it was over. I couldn’t believe how well @shyvioletcat cat was able to entirely re-characterize these two into such a different setting, yet still retaining what made them popular in the books. Aelin was perfect in her role as a snarky schoolteacher irritating the stoic firefighter Rowan. And the descriptions of the kids lining up at the firehouse demonstration and Jake’s adorable prodding was icing on the cake.
Day 4 - Close Quarters - I really loved the way @lady-therion wrote Nesta in this modern AU. I particularly like how she equates Nesta’s sometimes standoffish attitude as a very relatable personality trait. She has trouble reading people and gauging situations. It’s well written and the dialogue is unique for a plot that is common in ff!
Day 5 - Like A Lonely House- It’s got a colossal I love Lucy level misunderstanding mixed in with a lot of tension and angst. This Nesta that is full of sacrifice and duty and fire is how I imagine the Nesta who feels that she has a stake in the Fae world would be like. @featherymalignancy wove such a captivating new world in Macar, that it felt a lot like being introduced to the 8th court in the ACOTAR world.
Day 6 - Death Dance- There are several takes out there that touch on Nesta in the Ilyrian camps, but I love how @thewayshedreamed interpreted Nesta’s skills on the battlefield as a calculated dance. Nesta has always been a raging storm, but I love how @thewayshedreamed took care to show us a Nesta that channeled that storm into discipline. If SJM never intended to release a Nessian focused book, I would have considered this a satisfying end to their story.
Day 7 - One Night Standards- I love the way @sassyhobbits writes Aelin with her typical extremely sassy exterior, but also made sure to saddle her with a vulnerable side that runs deep. I normally don’t care for slow burns, but I like the pace of her relationship with Rowan here, and that they had to work hard at it. I also like the plot lines that involved their PR stunts and how the public grew to love them as well.
Day 8 - Goose Chasing- Its the most absurd plot of any fanfic I’ve read! The title is not figurative. Its really does involve chasing a goose. @rhysismydaddy did a fantastic job encapsulating the spirit of silly Cassian and grumpy Nesta in a situation they’d likely never find themselves in, yet making it entirely believable.
Day 9 - Manon Chooses The Worst Babysitter Possible- It’s such a casual and fluffy and hilarious read. It was fun to read about a softer and more delicate Manon. Through this absurd mistake, @sarah-bae-maas did an excellent job really humanizing Manon and postulating a fun in-world domestic scenario.
Day 10 - My Hunger Knows No Bounds-@perseusannabeth manages to take a simple concept and weave a sweet narrative. I particularly love how @perseusannabeth incorporated her personal details into it and took the time to share her lovely culture with us.
Day 11 - Knowing me, Knowing you - We never got to actually see Aelin rule Terrasen (well we got a tinyyy bit) in the books. Though this was modern day, @nalgenewhore tells a fun story of what that could have been like.
Day 12 - Forever (is a long time)- @noodlecatposts takes Elide and Lorcan’s completely polar opposite personalities and spins an interesting (and frankly quite adorable) story. All the rules crack me up. My favorite Lorcan is the one that reminds me of Luke Danes from Gilmore Girls. Currently, he is in the middle of grumpily fixing up her flooded room, so I am sure that my favorite parts are yet to come.
Day 13 - Go Your Own Way- I appreciate @tomtenadia for putting to words a scene that I desperately wanted in ACOWAR or even ACOFAS. A lovely parallel to an equally lovely Fleetwood mac song.
Day 14 - In Which She Makes A Friend- It is no surprise that the fandom wants Nesta to find her place in the Illyrian mountains and even bring about some social change with the female warriors. But the way @bookstantrash got there was such a wonderful and endearing journey. Big fan of the callbacks to how Kaelin was treated and the similarities to a certain Illyrian warrior was when he was younger. We got to see a sweet Nesta, who I’d like to think was attempting to make up for some of her regrets through taking care of Kaelin.
Day 15 - The Ranch- As a huge fan of Sweet Home Alabama, its should be no surprise that I loved this fic by @tacmc . I enjoyed the slow change that we saw in a stubborn Nesta as she opened up to this new way of life and reconnected with her sisters and found a home with Cassian.
Day 16 - Felons- Such a unique interpretation of Nesta and Cassian. I really like the self-sacrificing Nesta angle and @rhysismydaddy did a great job weaving intrigue into the unraveling of what we knew to be a her innocence. I never read The Witness, but this really made me want to.
Day 17 - Of Books and Timber- Cassian offers to build a shelf for Nesta. The way @duskandstarlight goes through the entire range of emotions through Nesta is brilliant. She starts out with cold indifference, but by the end, we get from her a sweet and tender gesture of gratitude. Showing that meeting each other halfway with small gestures is all they ever needed.
Day 18 - You Should Sleep In My Bed More Often- I absolutely loved this quick exchange between Nesta and Cassian after she accidentally injures him. I can’t believe how much I laughed out loud when Cassian said “I need you to protect me closer”.@charincharge perfectly captured the teasing childish essence of Cassian and Nesta’s hilarious victim-blaming was so on the nose that I might have thought this was taken right out of ACOSAF.
Day 19 - The Right Swipe- I really enjoyed this take on the inner circle mixed with the super modern online dating plot. I especially love that @redisriding created genuinely realistic characters (body issues, social anxiety etc). Great read!
Day 20 - Goldfish Prompt - What a fun read. I love how frantic and much personality Feyre had here. I love how dedicated to her fish she was, and how that made her super endearing. Cute read from @azrielsiphons
Day 21 - The One With The Snowstorm - What I really like is that Cassian actually says that he is sorry for his part in Nesta’s exile. I am not bitter about it, but it was an interesting turn. They need to meet halfway here and I rarely see it so well written as @joysbell has done here!
Day 22 - Prompt- A lovely and cute and sweet prompt written by @crowsvalentine! I love the ramp up of suspense just to get to the hilarious payoff. Its adorable and worth the quick read.
Day 23 - Fix It - is one by @thewayshedreamed that I love in its simplicity. It’s a small little argument Cassian and Nesta get into, but its still compelling. It’s sweet and super endearing the way the two of them are written and the subtle way they work through it. Great read!
Day 24 - I Do Bad Things To You- The mob angle may have been done before, but I don’t think with as much care and regard that @tswaney17 has been giving it. I how the canon personalities of the characters translate so well into this modern AU. Its very obvious that @tswaney17 has done her research. I especially love all the details around Elain as a surgeon. The story is compelling and well written and every chapter has me wanting more.
Day 25 - Love Her Like She should Be Loved- This is an excellent fic that I really loved. @julemmaes did such a great job translating some of the canon tension from ACOFAS into a modern world. It’s ripe with emotion, drama and quite a bit of heart. I love how earnestly Cassian comes to Nesta’s defense even in the face of going against his entire family. I like the reference to some very real psychological struggles. I think a lot of people can relate to it.
Day 26 - Literally In Love - I really enjoy the subtle mystery that follows this entire journey. I enjoy that @julesherondalex keeps us guessing, while simultaneously weaving a sweet and tender story about two shy teachers and just a slew of mishaps worthy of a Shakespearian drama.
Day 27 - The Shadow Bond-I love Azriel, and this is such a wonderful fic by @radientwings focusing on how his shadows might work. His shadows are the one thing that I am most curious about him in the series, so it was lovely to read such a well written interpretation of them.
Day 28 - Exes and Oh’s- Just a shout out to @highqueenofelfhame for this lovely story about rekindling past love. I like that even though the plot was uncomplicated, the emotions were not. I love that Aelin didn’t have a perfect reason for what she did, but sometimes that is just how things are. This is a story about taking a second chance, whether it’s deserved or not.
Day 29 - Fever- I really love this fic called Fever. I enjoyed how @lady-therion portrayed Nesta. She hit the entire gammut of characteristics (snarky, worried, vulnerable, caring, short-tempered, flirty, you name it!) but it really worked here. I found this nurse Nesta to be endearing and relatable and the dynamic between her and Cassian was very sweet. Just go read the damned thing.
Day 30 - Baby Steps- I really really love this fic. @runesandfaes did such a great job in just so few words to show a really sweet moment between Chaol, Yrene and their daughter learning to walk. I love the parallel back to when Chaol was learning to walk and the cameo of the golden couch. So sweet.
I just want all you beautiful fanfic writers out there to know that I take this statement to heart and if you simply get a like from me on your fic it’s cause I’m saving it for later. You shall be reblogged after i’ve read it, so I can give you the thorough review you deserve!
