trying on a metaphor
Mike Driver
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Not today Justin
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@hopelessromwriter
INTRODUCTION
Hi! I’m Hope^^ Just writing all the things that are on my mind.
22| Moon lover| She/her| Safe place for everyone|
❛Just a reminder in case your mind is playing tricks on you today: You matter. You're important. You're loved. And your presence on this earth makes a difference whether you see it or not.❜
☇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ sʜʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ!
ᴡʜᴏ ɪ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ғᴏʀ:
ᴀᴄᴏᴛᴀʀ
The Trouble with Magic
Liora had always prided herself on her control. Unlike Nyx, who had inherited Rhysand’s raw power and Feyre’s unwavering determination, she had always been more precise, more methodical. Where Nyx flared bright like a star, she was the steady glow of the moon. Or, at least, that’s how it used to be.
Now, her magic was completely out of control.
It had started small—a flickering light in her palm when she wasn’t even trying to summon one, a gust of wind swirling around her feet when she was only stretching. But then, things escalated. The night before, she had sneezed and shattered every single window in her room. That morning, she had accidentally turned her bathwater into solid ice.
And now? Now, she had somehow managed to levitate Nyx two feet off the ground and couldn’t figure out how to put him back down.
“Liora,” Nyx said slowly, his arms crossed over his chest as he floated in the middle of the training ring. “This is ridiculous.”
“I know that,” she snapped, pacing below him. “Do you think I did this on purpose?”
“Well, I’d hope not,” Nyx grumbled, glancing down at the empty space between his boots and the floor. He shifted, as if testing whether he could move on his own, and promptly flipped upside down.
“Oh, gods,” Liora muttered.
Nyx let out a very ungraceful yelp as he dangled mid-air, his wings struggling against the invisible force holding him in place.
“LIORA.”
“I DON’T KNOW HOW TO FIX IT!” she shouted, panic rising in her chest.
“You’re my sister,” Nyx said, voice strained. “And I love you. But if you don’t figure out how to put me down right now, I swear to Mother—”
“—What in the bloody hells is going on here?”
Cassian’s deep voice rang through the training grounds, and both siblings froze. Well, Liora froze. Nyx was still hanging upside down like a particularly miserable bat.
Cassian and Azriel had just landed, their wings tucking neatly behind them. Cassian took one look at Nyx, then at Liora’s guilty expression, and immediately burst into laughter.
“Oh, this is fantastic,” he wheezed, doubling over. “Finally, someone got him under control.”
Azriel, to his credit, only raised a brow before stepping forward, examining the situation with a calculating gaze. “You lost control of your magic?”
“I never had control of it,” Liora admitted, running a hand through her hair. “It’s been going haywire for days. I can’t stop it.”
Azriel studied her for a moment before glancing back at Nyx. “Have you tried letting go?”
Liora blinked. “Letting go?”
“You’re probably trying too hard,” Azriel said simply. “You’re panicking, so your magic is panicking, too.”
“That’s not how—” Liora started, but then she hesitated. Was that what was happening? She had been trying so hard to fix it, to force it into submission, but magic didn’t always work that way.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes.
She pictured the way Nyx felt in her magic, the way the power wrapped around him like unseen threads. Slowly, carefully, she imagined those threads unraveling, releasing him back to the earth.
With a sudden whoosh, Nyx dropped.
Right onto his back.
“Fucking hells, Liora,” he groaned, rolling onto his side. “Next time, warn me before you drop me.”
She winced. “Oops?”
Cassian was still laughing. “That was amazing.”
“Not the word I’d use,” Nyx muttered, rubbing his spine.
Before Liora could say anything else, a second voice cut through the air.
“Why is my daughter throwing her brother around like a ragdoll?”
Liora cringed as Rhysand’s familiar midnight voice curled around them.
Nyx, still sprawled on the ground, lifted a hand. “If I say it’s her fault, will you ground her?”
Rhys raised a brow, looking between them. Then, to Liora’s surprise, his lips twitched.
“Only if I can get it on record.”
Cassian howled with laughter.
Azriel sighed and muttered something about needing a drink.
Liora just groaned, burying her face in her hands. Her magic may have calmed down—for now—but if this was how the day was going, she was in for a long one.
Shattered Bonds
Nyx had never yelled at Liora like this before.
Sure, they bickered—they were siblings, after all—but this was different. This wasn’t playful teasing or a minor disagreement. This was full-blown shouting, voices ricocheting off the stone walls of the House of Wind as anger flared between them like a wildfire neither could control.
“You’re so damn reckless, Liora!” Nyx roared, his wings flaring behind him. “Do you even think before you act? Or do you just run into danger hoping someone will save you?”
Liora’s hands curled into fists. “Excuse me?” she snapped. “Since when did you become the authority on my decisions? You’re not Father, Nyx! Stop acting like you can control me!”
“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t keep putting yourself in danger!”
Liora’s heart pounded. “I can take care of myself—”
“No, you can’t!” Nyx shouted, frustration boiling over. “Not when you pull reckless stunts like today! Do you have any idea what could’ve happened if Cassian hadn’t pulled you out of that fight?”
Liora clenched her jaw. Yes, she knew. The mission had gone sideways. She’d made a call, and it had nearly cost her life. But she didn’t need Nyx throwing it in her face like this.
“I did what I had to do,” she shot back. “Not all of us get to be perfect like you, Nyx.”
His violet eyes darkened. “This isn’t about being perfect. This is about you not dying because you refuse to listen to anyone but yourself.”
“I refuse to let you control me—”
“I’M TRYING TO KEEP YOU SAFE!”
Nyx’s magic surged—darkness laced with fury, raw and untamed. Before he could stop it, a pulse of his power lashed out.
Liora barely had time to react before a blast of force sent her stumbling backward. She hit the ground hard, her head knocking against the stone floor. A sharp sting bloomed along her arm where she’d braced her fall.
The room went deathly silent.
Nyx’s eyes went wide in horror, his chest heaving. “Liora—”
She blinked up at him, stunned. Pain throbbed where she’d landed, but it was nothing compared to the shock in her heart.
He’d never—never—hurt her before.
Nyx rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside her. His hands hovered over her as if afraid to touch her. “Shit. I—Liora, I didn’t mean—”
She flinched away before she could stop herself.
The heartbreak on Nyx’s face was instant.
“I didn’t mean to,” he choked out, his voice hoarse. “Gods, I—”
Footsteps thundered down the hall, and then their parents were there.
Rhysand took one look at the scene—Liora on the ground, Nyx pale and shaking—and his face turned to stone. “What happened?”
Feyre’s gaze darted between them, concern flaring in her eyes. “Liora?”
Liora swallowed, struggling to find words.
Nyx, however, spoke first. “It was me,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I—I lost control. I didn’t mean to, but—” His throat bobbed. “I hurt her.”
Rhysand’s expression darkened with something unreadable. For a moment, Nyx looked like a child again—like the boy who had always feared disappointing their father.
Feyre knelt beside Liora, gently inspecting her scraped arm. “Can you move everything?”
Liora nodded stiffly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
But her voice lacked its usual fire.
Nyx’s hands were shaking. “Liora, please—”
She met his eyes, and something inside her cracked at the sheer guilt written all over his face.
He had never looked at her like that before.
Rhysand exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temples. “Nyx,” he said, voice tight, “step outside. Now.”
Nyx didn’t argue. He cast one more devastated look at Liora before turning and walking out.
The moment the door shut behind him, Feyre cupped Liora’s face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Liora hesitated. She didn’t feel okay.
Her body ached, but worse was the dull ache in her chest—the pain of knowing her brother, her best friend, had been the one to do this.
Rhysand sighed, crouching down beside her. “You know he didn’t mean to.”
“I know,” Liora murmured.
Feyre smoothed her hair back. “He’s going to beat himself up over this.”
“I know.”
“Do you want to talk to him?”
Liora let out a breath. “Not yet.”
Rhysand nodded, brushing a hand over her scraped arm, healing it with a soft pulse of magic. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She was grateful they didn’t push. But even as she sat there, her arm no longer aching, the weight in her chest remained.
Because no matter how much she knew it was an accident, no matter how much she knew Nyx loved her…
It still hurt.
A Tea Party Disaster
Liora should have known that peace and quiet were never guaranteed in the Night Court.
Her aunt, Elain had invited her for tea in the garden, promising a calm afternoon surrounded by flowers and delicate pastries. And for the first twenty minutes, it had been exactly that—serene, warm, and almost too perfect.
Which should have been her first warning.
Because then, Cassian and Nyx showed up.
“Tea?” Cassian snorted as he strolled toward them, hands on his hips. “What happened to you, Liora? You used to be fun.”
Liora shot him a flat look. “I am fun. This is just…a different kind of fun.”
Nyx plopped down in the chair across from her, already reaching for one of the little cakes. “Tea fun,” he teased, stuffing an entire lemon tart into his mouth.
Elain sighed, though there was a hint of amusement in her expression. “If you two are going to stay, at least behave.”
Cassian grinned. “Elain, sweetheart, I always behave.”
Liora and Nyx exchanged a glance before saying in unison, “No, you don’t.”
Cassian gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wound me.”
Liora rolled her eyes, reaching for her teacup, only for Nyx to yank it out of her hand and take a sip.
“Nyx!” she screeched.
His face twisted in immediate regret. “What is this?!” he coughed, shoving the cup back toward her. “It tastes like flowers!”
“That’s because it’s chamomile,” Elain said patiently.
Cassian snickered. “Gods, Nyx, you sound like Azriel when he tried tea for the first time.”
Nyx wiped his tongue on his sleeve like a child. “Never again.”
Liora groaned, setting her cup far out of his reach. “Why are you two even here?”
“Because,” Nyx said, grinning, “we were bored.”
“And because we knew you’d be too polite to kick us out,” Cassian added, smirking.
Elain pinched the bridge of her nose, already regretting every life choice that had led to this moment.
Things might have remained relatively contained—until Cassian decided to show off.
“I love these fancy tea sets,” he said, picking up a delicate porcelain teapot. “So fragile. So—” He tossed it into the air, catching it just in time. “—breakable.”
Liora gasped. “Cassian, put that down!”
“Oh, come on. I have impeccable reflexes,” Cassian bragged, tossing the teapot again.
Unfortunately for him, Nyx chose that exact moment to nudge his elbow.
Cassian fumbled.
The teapot went flying.
Liora lunged for it—
And somehow, in the chaos, Nyx knocked over a candle.
A candle that landed on the pristine white tablecloth.
The tablecloth that immediately caught fire.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then—
“OH SHIT—”
“PUT IT OUT, PUT IT OUT—”
“Liora, use your powers!”
“I don’t have water magic like mom, Nyx!”
“Then do something!”
Cassian, to no one’s surprise, tried to smother the flames with his wings.
Which only resulted in his feathers catching fire.
“MOTHER’S TITS—” Cassian cursed, flapping wildly as Elain grabbed a pitcher of water and dumped it over him.
Liora just stood there, watching the flames die down, watching her beautiful tea party turn into a soaked, scorched mess, and put her head in her hands.
A long, long silence followed.
Cassian, now dripping wet, cleared his throat. “So…maybe porcelain isn’t my strong suit.”
Elain exhaled very, very slowly. Then, in the calmest voice Liora had ever heard, she said, “You two need to leave.”
Cassian and Nyx exchanged glances.
And then, with identical guilty grins, they bolted.
Liora groaned, sinking into her chair. “Why are they like this?”
Elain, somehow managing to salvage what little dignity remained, picked up her cup, still perfectly intact, and took a sip.
“Because,” she said, utterly unfazed, “the Cauldron cursed us.”
Battle of Heirs
Liora had been to many High Lord meetings before. She knew the way they worked—the tension beneath flowery words, the calculated glances exchanged over gilded tables, the way her father effortlessly wielded his silver tongue like a blade.
She usually hated them.
But today?
Today, she was ready to murder someone.
And that someone was Erias of the Autumn Court.
“Do you actually believe that?” Erias scoffed, his auburn hair catching the golden light streaming into the grand hall of the Dawn Court. His amber eyes—so much like his father’s—were filled with amusement. “Mercy isn’t a strength. It’s a liability.”
Liora clenched her fists. “You think slaughtering people for the sake of power makes you strong?”
Erias leaned back, smirking. “It certainly makes you feared.”
Across the room, Nyx groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, here we go.”
Rhysand and Feyre, seated among the High Lords, turned toward the commotion. Cassian, standing off to the side, elbowed Azriel and muttered, “Ten gold says she throws the first punch.”
Azriel just sighed.
Liora stepped forward, her wings twitching. “You sound just like your father.”
Erias’ smirk widened. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
Before either of them could escalate further, a slow, measured voice cut through the tension.
“Well, this is entertaining.”
The two turned—to find Eris Vanserra watching them with amusement, his sharp gaze flicking between his son and Liora. “Are we dueling in the middle of diplomatic meetings now? Because if so, I’d like to place a wager.”
Liora scowled. Eris was just as infuriating as his son.
Rhysand sighed, standing from his seat. “Your heir is provoking mine,” he said smoothly.
Eris raised a brow. “Your heir is taking the bait.”
“She wouldn’t have to if your son wasn’t acting like an arrogant ass,” Nyx muttered.
Erias shot Nyx a grin. “Jealous, brother?”
Nyx rolled his eyes. “You wish we were brothers.”
Before Rhysand or Feyre could intervene, Liora stepped forward, magic crackling at her fingertips. “You need to shut up before I make you.”
Erias just smirked. “Go on, then.”
The tension was thick enough to cut with a blade. Around them, courtiers and heirs watched, some backing away, others clearly thrilled at the entertainment.
Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose. “Liora, walk away.”
Liora barely twitched. “He—”
“Walk. Away.” His voice was smooth as silk, yet it left no room for argument.
Eris chuckled. “See, this is what happens when you let your children think they’re equals.”
Rhysand’s violet eyes flashed. “Careful, Vanserra.”
Eris smiled. “Merely an observation.”
Liora wanted to wipe that smug look off his and his son’s faces. But her father was right—engaging would only give them what they wanted.
So, with a look that promised this wasn’t over, Liora turned on her heel and walked away.
As she passed, Erias leaned in, voice barely above a whisper.
“Coward.”
Her fist was swinging before she even processed it.
The satisfying crack of her knuckles meeting his jaw echoed through the grand hall, followed by a collective gasp from the onlookers. Erias staggered back, shock flashing across his face as he touched his split lip.
Silence.
Then—Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder and grinned. “Pay up.”
Azriel just sighed, already pulling out the ten gold coins.
Rhysand groaned, rubbing his temples. Feyre muttered something under her breath that sounded a lot like Mother spare me.
And Eris?
Eris just laughed. “Oh, I like her.”
Liora smirked, shaking out her hand. “Maybe next time, don’t run your mouth.”
Nyx just buried his face in his hands. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”
Shattered Trust
Rhysand had never been this angry before. Not in the centuries he had ruled, not in all the wars he had fought. Not even under Amarantha’s reign had rage burned through him like this.
Because this wasn’t about war. This wasn’t about courts or politics.
This was about his daughter.
His daughter, who stood in front of him now, arms crossed defiantly, jaw clenched as she faced him without fear.
“You lied to me,” he said, his voice deadly quiet.
She didn’t flinch. “I handled it.”
“You handled it?” Rhys’s voice rose, a storm beginning to gather in his chest. “You think sneaking off to the Autumn Court, alone, without telling a single soul, was handling it?”
Feyre stood beside him, her expression tight with barely contained fury. “You could have died.”
“I didn’t,” Liora snapped back. “And I got the information we needed, didn’t I?”
“That is not the point!” Rhysand exploded, his wings flaring out. Shadows curled at his feet, feeding off the barely restrained rage pulsing through him. “You disobeyed a direct order. You went alone. If something had happened—”
“But nothing did!” she argued. “And I would have told you eventually!”
Rhys let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Eventually?” His hands clenched into fists. “How, exactly, were you planning on telling us? Over dinner? ‘Oh, by the way, I infiltrated the Autumn Court on my own, but don’t worry, it all worked out’?”
Her silence was answer enough.
Nyx had been standing off to the side, arms crossed, his own anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. But now, he stepped forward. “What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was tight with frustration. “I would’ve gone with you. We all would have.”
Liora turned to her brother, something softer flashing across her face, but she held her ground. “I didn’t want to risk anyone else. I knew I could do it alone.”
Rhysand’s fury only grew. “You are not alone! You are never alone!”
She shook her head, exasperated. “I didn’t do this to spite you!”
“Then why?” Feyre demanded, stepping forward. “Why risk your life like this?”
“Because I wanted to prove that I could!”
The words echoed through the River House like a slap.
Rhysand inhaled sharply.
Liora’s breathing was unsteady, but she refused to break eye contact. “I’m not just your daughter. I’m not just the High Lord’s child. I’m a warrior, I’m a fighter. And I needed to prove it—to myself and to everyone else.”
“You have nothing to prove,” Feyre said, her voice soft but firm.
Liora shook her head. “Maybe you don’t think so, but everyone else does. The Inner Circle, the Illyrians, the other courts—they all see me as your daughter, Rhysand’s daughter, Feyre’s daughter. They don’t see me.”
Rhysand’s heart twisted.
“We never wanted you to feel like you had to live up to anything,” he said, his voice quieter now, though still edged with frustration.
“But I do,” she whispered. “And that’s why I did this. I wanted to prove that I’m more than just your child.”
Rhysand stared at her, at the determination in her eyes, the same determination he had seen in Feyre so many times before. And beneath the anger, beneath the fear, something else crept in—understanding.
He had been just like her once. Reckless. Desperate to prove himself.
Still, that didn’t erase the fury or the gut-wrenching fear that had clawed at him when he realized she had been in danger.
He exhaled slowly. “If you ever—ever—do something like this again, I will ground you for the next century.”
A flicker of relief crossed her face, as if she had expected worse. “Understood.”
Nyx still looked irritated, but he sighed. “Next time, you tell me first.”
She gave him a small, sheepish nod. “Okay.”
Feyre reached out, brushing a hand over their daughter’s hair. “We only worry because we love you.”
Liora swallowed. “I know.”
Rhysand stepped forward, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “Never again,” he said, the command in his voice clear.
She met his gaze and nodded.
And for now, that was enough.
The Art of War
The training ring atop the House of Wind was quiet, save for the distant whistle of the wind and the soft padding of boots on stone. Liora stood across from Cassian, arms crossed, watching as her uncle paced in front of her like a general before battle.
“This,” Cassian began, sweeping his arm toward the vast Illyrian mountain range beyond them, “is where some of the greatest battles in history were fought.”
Liora arched a brow. “You’re not about to give me a history lecture, are you?”
Cassian shot her a grin. “Why? You don’t think history is important?”
She groaned, shifting her weight onto one foot. “It’s not that. It’s just…if I wanted a history lesson, I’d ask Amren. Or maybe Azriel. You just sound like a storyteller at a war camp.”
Cassian clutched his chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know, my storytelling is legendary. Azriel is the one who makes it sound like a death sentence.”
Liora smirked but didn’t argue.
Cassian resumed pacing, his expression turning more serious. “What I was trying to say,” he continued, “is that the Illyrians didn’t just win battles with brute strength. They won with strategy, with understanding their enemies.”
Liora sighed. “And that’s why I have to study battle formations, right?”
“Exactly.” Cassian folded his arms. “If you want to be a warrior, you need to think like one.”
Liora rolled her eyes but nodded. She did want to be a warrior—had spent her entire life trying to prove that she could hold her own among the Illyrians and the Inner Circle alike. But Cassian’s endless lessons on strategy, on patience, on thinking before acting, were driving her insane.
“I already know most of this,” she muttered. “You and Azriel drill it into my head every day.”
Cassian’s hazel eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, really?”
Liora’s stomach twisted. That look never meant anything good.
Before she could react, Cassian moved. One second he was standing a few feet away, the next he was lunging toward her, his wings tucked in, his body a blur of muscle and speed.
Liora barely had time to dodge as he swung a practice sword toward her side. She leapt backward, drawing her own weapon, and blocked his next strike just in time. The clang of steel echoed through the training ring.
“You want to prove you know battle strategy?” Cassian taunted, pressing his blade harder against hers. “Then show me.”
Liora gritted her teeth and shoved him back, using his own momentum to spin out of his reach. She moved quickly, analyzing his stance, watching the way his muscles coiled before each strike. Cassian was fast—but he was also predictable.
He feinted left. She dodged right. He brought his sword down toward her shoulder, but she sidestepped, angling her blade just enough to redirect his attack.
Cassian grinned. “Not bad.”
Liora smirked. “Not trying my hardest yet.”
Cassian barked a laugh. “Cocky little thing.”
He lunged again, and Liora parried, dancing just out of his reach. This time, she didn’t let him dictate the pace. She moved first, slashing toward his side, forcing him to go on the defensive. He blocked each strike, but she could see it—the faint flicker of surprise in his eyes.
Good.
She pivoted sharply, aiming low, trying to knock his legs out from under him. But Cassian, the bastard, anticipated it. Instead of dodging, he let her attack land—only to grab her wrist as she struck and yank her forward.
Liora barely had time to react before she found herself pinned, her back against the stone floor, Cassian’s weight holding her down.
“Lesson number one,” Cassian panted, grinning down at her. “Don’t let your opponent bait you.”
Liora groaned, smacking his arm. “You fight dirty.”
Cassian shrugged. “A warrior does what they have to do to win.”
Liora huffed, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Fine. Next time, I’ll be the one who tricks you.”
Cassian laughed and stood, offering her a hand. “Looking forward to it, kid.”
As Liora took his hand and got back to her feet, she couldn’t help but grin. Even if Cassian’s lessons were annoying, she had to admit—there was no better way to learn than with him at her side.
Through The Storm
Liora felt hollow.
The world had not ended, but it felt like it had.
The ache in her chest was a dull, constant thing, like a blade that had sunk too deep and refused to be pulled free.
Liora had loved him. Trusted him. Given him everything. And in the end, it hadn’t been enough.
The moment she had found out—the whispered conversations behind her back, the stolen glances between him and her—it was like the entire world had tilted on its axis.
Now, Liora was curled up on the couch in the River House, staring blankly at the fire.
Her mother had tried to comfort her, stroking her hair, whispering soft reassurances. Her father had gone terrifyingly still when he heard what had happened, his power flickering through the room like a living shadow. Cassian had offered to break the bastard’s legs. Azriel had suggested something far more terrifying. Even Mor had promised vengeance, her rage a burning, relentless thing.
But none of it had made Liora feel better.
None of it had eased the ache in her chest, the suffocating weight of it.
So, she sat there, silent and unmoving, feeling like a ghost in her own skin.
Then, Nyx walked in.
He didn’t say anything at first. He just studied her, his violet eyes scanning her face, taking in the shadows beneath her eyes, the way she was curled into herself like she was trying to disappear.
Without a word, he sat down beside his sister.
He didn’t try to talk. Didn’t try to force her to feel better like everyone else had.
He just sat there.
The silence stretched between them, but for the first time since Liora’s heart had been shattered, it didn’t feel unbearable.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Nyx spoke.
“You want me to kill him?”
A choked laugh escaped before Liora could stop it. It was a pathetic sound, broken and hoarse, but it was something.
Nyx’s lips twitched. “I’m serious.”
She shook your head, exhaling shakily. “I don’t think that’ll help.”
Nyx huffed. “Maybe not. But it’d make me feel better.”
That time, her laugh was real.
He nudged her gently. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Liora frowned. “Where?”
“Anywhere but here.” He stood, offering her his hand. When Liora hesitated, he softened. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to do anything. Just…come with me.”
Liora hesitated. But then she looked at her brother—really looked at him—and saw nothing but quiet understanding. No pressure. No expectation.
Just him.
So, she took his hand.
—
The wind was crisp against Liora’s skin as she and Nyx soared above Velaris, the city below glittering in the night. He didn’t take her anywhere grand or extravagant. Just to a quiet rooftop overlooking the Sidra, where the stars stretched endlessly above them.
They sat side by side, legs dangling over the edge.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The sounds of the river, the distant hum of the city, filled the silence between them.
Then—
“You know you’re not alone in this, right?” Nyx said quietly.
Liora’s throat tightened. “I feel alone.”
Nyx exhaled. “I know. I hate it.”
She swallowed, staring down at her hands. “I feel…stupid. Like I should have seen it coming.”
Nyx frowned. “Don’t do that.”
She didn’t respond.
“Liora,” he said firmly, turning to face her. “Don’t do that.”
She clenched her jaw. “I just—I gave him everything, Nyx. And he just—he threw it away.” Liora’s voice cracked, and she bit her lip, willing herself not to cry.
Nyx’s expression softened.
“He’s an idiot,” he said simply.
She blinked. “What?”
Nyx shrugged. “He’s an idiot. And a bastard. And an absolute waste of space. But you? You’re the best thing that ever happened to him. And he lost you.”
A lump formed in her throat.
Nyx nudged her again. “You are the kindest person I know, Liora. The funniest. The smartest. You make people feel safe just by being you. And if he was too blind to see that, then that’s his loss.”
Liora sniffled, looking away. “You’re blind.”
Nyx snorted. “Please. I’ve always been the favorite twin.”
She let out a breathy laugh, wiping at her eyes.
Nyx grinned, draping an arm over her shoulders and pulling her close. “One day, you’re going to look back at this and realize he was just a footnote in your story. And you’re going to be so much happier without him.”
Liora exhaled shakily. “I hope so.”
Nyx squeezed her tighter. “I know so.”
She rested herr head against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his embrace chase away the lingering shadows.
And for the first time in days, the ache in Liora’s chest felt just a little bit lighter.
Because no matter what happened—no matter how many people came and went—Nyx would always be there.
Her brother. Herr best friend.
Always.
Maybe a little drabble with Cassian + sparring?
Here you go :D
Sparring
Cassian stood before you, his eyes alight with a playful glint as he twirled his training blade between his fingers.
"Ready for some action?" he grinned, the challenge evident in his tone as he beckoned you closer.
You nodded eagerly, your heart racing with excitement at the prospect of a sparring session with the formidable warrior.
"Absolutely," you replied, your voice filled with determination as you stepped forward to meet him in the center of the ring.
As the two of you circled each other, the tension in the air was palpable, but instead of the usual intensity of a training session, there was a playful energy that crackled between you, a silent invitation for something more.
Cassian's eyes sparkled with mischief as he lunged forward, his movements fluid and graceful as he feigned an attack.
You dodged his strike with ease, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you countered with a swift move of your own.
As the sparring continued, the lines between fighting and flirting began to blur, each exchange of blows accompanied by teasing banter and lingering touches that sent a thrill racing through your veins.
Cassian's laughter filled the air as he deftly blocked your attack, his hands closing around yours as he spun you around, his body pressed close against yours in a move that was more intimate than combative.
"You're quick on your feet," he murmured, his voice low and husky as he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "But can you keep up with me?"
You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine at his words, the closeness between you igniting a fire within that burned hotter with each passing moment. "Only one way to find out," you replied, your voice filled with playful challenge as you met his gaze with a heated intensity of your own.
As the sparring session continued, the playful banter and flirtatious exchanges only intensified, each touch and taunt fueling the undeniable chemistry between you until it became impossible to ignore.
And as the training session came to an end, you found yourselves breathless and exhilarated, the thrill of the fight mingling with the heat of your shared passion, leaving you both hungry for more.
With a knowing smile, Cassian reached out to take your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. "Same time tomorrow?" he asked, his eyes smoldering with desire as he met your gaze with a heated intensity that left no doubt of his intentions.
You nodded eagerly, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you returned his gaze with a playful glint of your own. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," you replied, your voice filled with anticipation as you imagined the possibilities of what tomorrow's sparring session might bring.
No matter the cost
Rhysand x daughter!reader
In the Night Court, where stars painted a tapestry of luminescence above, Rhysand paced within his study, his heart heavy with concern.
His daughter withdrew into the solitude of her room, her distress palpable even from a distance.
A gentle knock broke the silence, and Rhysand entered without waiting for an invitation, finding you perched on the edge of your bed, a veil of melancholy clouding your usually bright eyes.
“(Y/n),” Rhysand called softly, a tender note in his voice. “My dear girl.”
You raised your gaze, the weight of your emotions evident in the lines etched upon your face. You attempted a smile, but it crumbled under your father’s attentive gaze.
Rhysand settled beside you, his heart aching to assuage your pain.
He reached out, fingers hovering hesitantly, yearning to provide solace to his beloved daughter but unsure of how to navigate her shattered emotions.
“You don’t need to speak,” Rhysand murmured, his voice a soothing melody. “I feel your anguish, the turmoil within you. You’re hurting.”
Your composure shattered, tears cascading down your cheeks as the floodgates of your pain opened. “It’s…it’s unbearable, Papa. I never imagined it would hurt this much.”
Rhysand enveloped you in a protective embrace, his heart shattering at the sight of your crumbling. His whispered words carried the weight of a father’s unwavering love and dedication.
“I’d move mountains to spare you this pain,” Rhysand vowed, his voice resonating with a father’s resolute determination. “You’re my everything, my precious one. I’ll shield you from harm, protecting you with all I have.”
You clung to him, seeking refuge in your father’s embrace. His warmth, his unconditional love, provided fleeting relief amidst the tempest raging in your soul.
“I’m here, my dear,” Rhysand whispered, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. “Together, we’ll weather this storm. I’ll stand by your side.”
“No matter the cost.”
Replacement
Cassian x daughter!reader
Warnings: angst, argument, loss of family member, grieving
The Night Court was illuminated by the soft glow of the stars as Cassian approached his home.
He had been looking forward to this moment for a long time–introducing his daughter to Nesta. But as he pushed open the door and stepped into the warmth of the house, he immediately sensed the tension in the air.
You were standing by the fireplace, your face set in a cold, unyielding expression.
Cassian's heart sank, knowing that the reunion might not be as he had hoped.
His daughter had her mother's stubbornness, and she was still grieving the loss of the woman who had meant the world to her.
"Sweetheart," Cassian began tentatively, "I'd like you to meet someone."
You turned your gaze to the unfamiliar figure standing beside Cassian. It was Nesta, the woman who had become an integral part of their lives.
Her presence had been a source of contention between you and your father, and you hadn't been ready to accept her.
"I don't want to meet her," you replied sharply, your voice laced with bitterness.
Cassian's face fell, hurt flickering in his eyes. "Please, just give it a chance. She cares about you."
"No one can replace Mom," you snapped, your eyes welling up with tears. "And I don't want to pretend that everything is okay just because you've moved on."
Cassian's heart ached as he watched you turn and storm out of the house. Panic gripped him, and he hurried after you, calling out your name. But you didn't stop, and he realized that he had pushed too hard, too soon.
In the hours that followed, the Inner Circle searched for you, each member carrying the weight of concern and responsibility.
But it was Nesta who eventually found you, sitting on a quiet bench in a moonlit garden, tears streaming down your face.
She approached you slowly, giving you space to breathe. "I know I can't replace your mother," she began softly. "I don't want to. But I want to be a part of your life, in whatever way you'll allow me."
You wiped away your tears, looking at Nesta with a mix of anger and sorrow. "Why now?" you asked, voice cracking. "Why does he have to bring you into our lives now, when we're still grieving?"
Nesta reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Sometimes, life brings unexpected changes," she said, her voice filled with empathy. "I didn't ask for this either, but I want to be here for you, if you'll let me."
You hesitated, your anger slowly subsiding as you looked into Nesta's eyes, seeing the genuine care and concern there. "I miss her," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
Nesta nodded, understanding the depth of your pain. "I know you do," she replied. "And I promise, I won't try to take her place. But maybe we can find a way to coexist, to support each other."
You took a deep, shuddering breath, and the dam that had held back your emotions finally broke. Nesta wrapped her arms around you, and you sobbed into her shoulder, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your loss.
Back at the house, Cassian was frantic, waiting for news of your whereabouts. When Nesta returned with you, he rushed forward, relief washing over him.
You looked at your father, your eyes still red from crying, but there was a glimmer of acceptance. "I'm not ready to move on," you admitted. "But maybe I can learn to accept that you've found happiness again."
Cassian pulled you into a tight embrace, tears welling up in his eyes. "I love you, and I'll always be here for you," he whispered.
And as the night wrapped its comforting embrace around the three of you, there was hope that healing and love could bridge the gaps that had torn your family apart.
Eternity
Rhysand x Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow across the Night Court, Rhysand and you found yourselves perched on the balcony of the luxurious townhouse he had gifted you.
The cool breeze gently tousled your hair, but the beauty of the night seemed dimmed by the heaviness in your heart.
Rhysand leaned against the railing beside you, his violet eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions. His usual charismatic smile was absent tonight, replaced by a solemn expression that mirrored your own.
"What's bothering you, my love?", Rhysand asked, concern lacing his velvety voice.
You took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "I just...I can't help but feel like I don't belong here. Like I'm an intruder in your world. I'm not like you, Rhysand. I'm just a mortal."
Rhysand reached out and gently cupped your face, his thumb caressing your cheek.
"Don't ever think that. You belong with me, in my heart, in my life. Mortal or not, you are the reason the stars shine brighter. Your presence fills my darkness with light."
A tear escaped your eye, and Rhysand wiped it away tenderly with his thumb.
"You've shown me so much love and happiness, but I'm afraid, Rhysand. Afraid that one day, I'll be taken away from you, and you'll be left with an empty space in your life."
His eyes softened with understanding, a depth of pain evident in their violet depths. "I won't lie to you, my love. Immortality can be a curse in itself. To watch those we love age and wither while we remain untouched by time. But I would endure eternity without a second thought if it meant I could spend even a fraction of it with you."
You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his palm sending shivers down your spine. "I don't want you to suffer, Rhysand. I can't bear the thought of causing you pain."
"You don't cause me pain, love. It's the circumstances we find ourselves in that cause it. But together, we'll face whatever comes our way," he said, his voice determined.
The weight of his love enveloped you like a protective shield, and you found some comfort in his words. Still, a knot of sorrow lingered in your heart.
"I wish we could have more time together, without worrying about what the future holds."
Rhysand pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "So do I, my love. But let's cherish every moment we have now. Let's fill them with joy and love, and when the time comes, we'll face the future together, no matter how uncertain it may be."
You closed your eyes, taking solace in his embrace.
The stars above seemed to shine with a newfound intensity, as if to remind you of the beauty in embracing the present, even amidst the looming darkness of the future.
In that moment, you made a silent vow to cherish each day, each hour, and each heartbeat you shared with Rhysand.
Together, you would create a love so profound that not even the hands of time could erase its mark on eternity.
And in the gentle embrace of the Night Court, you found the strength to face whatever fate had in store for the two of you, united against the cruel whims of destiny.
Dancing In The Starlight
Azriel x reader
Warnings: none
The night was alive with a luminescent glow, the sky adorned with a tapestry of stars that seemed to dance and twinkle in celebration of an extraordinary meeting.
Among them, Azriel, the shadowy warrior from the Night Court, found himself drawn to a mysterious figure that had captured his attention like no other.
As the moonlight cast its ethereal glow upon the secluded glade, Azriel spotted a lone figure standing in the center, surrounded by an aura of mystique.
The figure seemed to emanate an enigmatic energy, and Azriel's curiosity piqued, drawing him closer with each step.
It was you, an unassuming mortal, caught in a reverie of stardust and moonbeams.
Azriel observed as you spun gracefully, your laughter ringing through the night like a sweet melody. Your soulful eyes sparkled like the stars above, and Azriel found himself entranced by your every move.
Unable to resist the allure of your presence, Azriel stepped forward, his wings of shadows casting a dark and protective embrace around you. His powerful, silent presence did not startle you, but rather, it seemed to intensify the magic of the moment.
"Who are you?" you whispered softly, a glimmer of recognition in your eyes as if you had been expecting him.
Azriel remained wordless, his gaze searching for the right response in the depths of your soul.
He found that your soul was unlike any he had encountered before, a kaleidoscope of emotions and experiences that stirred something deep within him.
Instead of answering, Azriel extended a hand, offering to share a dance under the celestial canopy.
Without hesitation, you placed your hand in his, and the two of you began to sway in harmony with the night breeze.
Time seemed to stand still as you danced, your heartbeats echoing in rhythm.
The barriers that separated your worlds dissolved, leaving only the connection between your souls.
Each step, each touch, felt like a revelation, as if the universe had conspired to bring you both together.
In the silence of the night, you dared to ask him about the secrets he held, the shadows that clung to him like a cloak.
And in return, Azriel shared fragments of his past, his pain, and the battles he had fought for the Night Court.
Despite the darkness he carried within, you sensed the glimmer of hope and compassion within Azriel, a side of him that few had ever glimpsed. It was a fragile vulnerability he entrusted you with, and you vowed to cherish it as a precious gift.
As the night wore on, the dance became a timeless expression of connection and understanding.
With each twirl and spin, you felt as though you were unraveling the complexities of your own heart, exposing your deepest desires and fears to this captivating fae warrior.
With the first light of dawn peeking over the horizon, the dance came to an end.
You gazed into Azriel's eyes, feeling a bittersweet ache that this enchanted moment would soon become a cherished memory.
"Will we meet again?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.
Azriel smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "The stars have a way of guiding us to where we belong," he replied. "If it's meant to be, we'll find each other again."
With that, Azriel disappeared into the shadows, leaving you standing in the glade, your heart a swirling mix of emotions.
As you watched him go, you knew that this fleeting encounter had forever changed the trajectory of your life.
And so, you kept your gaze fixed on the stars, knowing that somewhere out there, a shadowy warrior named Azriel was doing the same.
The memory of your dance in the starlight remained imprinted in both your hearts, a reminder of the rare and extraordinary connection that could transcend the boundaries of worlds and time.
I just read the entirety of the rose garden series and I LOVED IT
Ik Eris was kicking his legs and giggling while writing those letters
YESS😭
Enough
Lucien Vanserra x reader
Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff
The Night Court was abuzz with excitement as they prepared for the upcoming High Lord meeting.
Azriel was busy poring over reports and making preparations, his mind focused solely on Elain.
He barely noticed you as you entered the room, your presence almost invisible to him.
Lucien, on the other hand, noticed you immediately. He had always been perceptive, and he could sense the sadness and loneliness that radiated from you.
"Hey," he said, his voice gentle. "Are you okay?"
You looked up at him, surprised by his concern. "I'm fine," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lucien raised an eyebrow, not quite convinced. "You don't seem fine. Do you want to talk about it?"
You hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
As you both talked, you discovered that you had a lot in common.
You both felt ignored and overlooked by the people you cared about, and you both longed for something more.
Days turned into weeks, and you and Lucien grew closer. You spent hours talking, exploring the city, and even training together.
As you laughed and joked, you realized that you didn't waste any thoughts about Azriel or Elain.
One day, as you sat together in a quiet corner of the Night Court gardens, you turned to Lucien.
"You know," you said, your voice hesitant. "I never thought I could feel this way about anyone. But I think I might be falling in love with you."
Lucien's eyes widened in surprise, but then a smile spread across his face. "I think I might be falling in love with you too," he said, taking your hand.
As you sat together, bathed in the soft light of the setting sun, you and Lucien knew that you had found something special.
You didn't need Elain or Azriel to be happy.
You had each other, and that was enough.
More Eris??? You’ve left me wanting more after the last fict you wrote
Something Special
Eris Vanserra x reader
Here, a little something with our boy^^.
The sun was setting over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city of the autumn court.
Eris Vanserra stood on the balcony of his private quarters, overlooking the sprawling metropolis below. He had always loved this view, but tonight it held a special significance. Tonight, he was going to propose to the love of his life.
He turned around to face the room, taking in the flickering candles and the bouquet of roses he had arranged earlier. His heart was racing as he heard a knock at the door.
"Come in," he said, trying to steady his breathing.
The door opened and the love of his life walked in, looking more beautiful than ever. Eris couldn't help but smile as he took you in. He had loved you for years, but it wasn't until recently that he had found the courage to tell you.
"Hey," you said softly, closing the door behind you.
"Hey," Eris replied, feeling his throat tighten.
You stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. Eris felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He took a deep breath and walked over to you.
"I've been thinking a lot lately," he said, taking your hand.
"That’s never a good sign. About what?" you asked, looking up at him.
"About us," Eris replied, after laughing at her statement, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I've realized something."
He got down on one knee, pulling out a small box from his pocket. His heart was pounding as he opened it, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.
"I love you," he said, his eyes locked on yours. "And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"
There was a moment of silence as you looked down at him, your eyes filling with tears. Eris felt like he was holding his breath.
"Yes," you finally whispered, your voice shaking with emotion. "Yes, Eris. I'll marry you."
Eris felt like he was on top of the world as he slipped the ring onto your finger. He stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace as you both cried tears of joy.
As you held each other, Eris knew that he had found his other piece, his mate. He had always been a man of ambition and power, but he had never felt as alive as he did in this moment, with the woman he loved in his arms.
You stayed there for a while, holding each other and basking in the warmth of your love. And as the sun set over the city of the autumn court, Eris knew that his life would never be the same again. But that was okay, because he had you by his side, and that was all that mattered.
A Little Walk
Rhysand x reader
The Inner Circle of the Night Court was gathered in the living room of their luxurious house, enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet.
Feyre was curled up on the couch, reading a book, while Rhysand and Cassian were playing a game of cards. Mor was lounging in a nearby armchair, sipping on a glass of wine, and Amren was studying a piece of parchment with a furrowed brow.
But there was one member of their family missing, and it didn't take long for them to realize it. You had been missing from the group for several days, working on a top-secret project for Rhysand. You had hardly slept or eaten, pouring all your energy into the task at hand.
Azriel had noticed your absence and had grown increasingly concerned. He knew how much you cared about your work, but he also knew that you tended to overwork yourself, often to the point of exhaustion. He had tried to talk to you about it, but you always brushed him off, insisting that you could handle it.
But now, as he watched his family enjoying their moment of relaxation, he couldn't help but worry. He knew that you needed to take a break, to rest and recharge, but he wasn't sure how to convince you.
As if sensing his thoughts, Rhysand looked up from his game and caught Azriel's eye. "What's on your mind, brother?" he asked.
Azriel hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I'm worried about (y/n)" he said, his voice quiet. "She's been working non-stop for days, and I don't think she's taking care of herself."
The Inner Circle fell silent, all of them contemplating Azriel's words. They knew how important your work was, but they also knew that your health and well-being were just as crucial.
"We need to talk to her," Feyre said, setting down her book. "Make her see that she needs to take a break."
Rhysand nodded in agreement. "I'll talk to her," he said. "She trusts me, maybe I can convince her to take some time off."
But when Rhysand went to find you, he found you hunched over your desk, poring over a stack of papers. Your hair was disheveled, and there were dark circles under your eyes.
"Hey," Rhysand said, his voice gentle. "How's it going?"
You looked up, your eyes bloodshot and tired. "It's going," you said, forcing a smile. "Just a few more things to finish up."
Rhysand frowned, his concern growing. "Listen, I know how important this is, but you need to take a break. You can't keep pushing yourself like this."
Your smile faltered, and you sighed heavily. "I know," you said, rubbing your tired eyes. "But I have a deadline, and I don't want to let anyone down."
Rhysand took a step closer, his wings wrapping around you protectively. "You won't let anyone down," he said. "But you will let yourself down if you don't take care of yourself. Come on, let's go for a walk."
At first, you hesitated, but Rhysand's gentle insistence finally convinced you. You walked through the gardens of the Night Court, the cool breeze and the soft sounds of nature soothing your frazzled nerves.
You didn't talk about work, or deadlines, or anything remotely related to their responsibilities. You two simply walked, enjoying each other's company in the peaceful surroundings.
And as you both walked, you began to feel something shift inside you.
You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders, knowing that you had people who cared about your well-being. And as you walked beside the High Lord, your heart swelled with gratitude for the Inner Circle, the family you had found in the midst of chaos.