Summary: biker!azriel decides to take you on a smooth ride to his special spot for a little special fun👀
Warnings: 18+, SMUT, MDNI, biker!az, biker!azriel, modern au, dirty talk, semi public, fingering, clit play, vibration, squirting, praising, teasing, dating app, hook up, slight dom&sub, slight marking, he owns a bike & unfortunately also your self control
This wasn’t the first date. Nor the second. It was the sixth date between you and Azriel. When you downloaded that god-awful dating app your friends had you get, you never expected to match with someone so mysterious yet gentle in unexpected ways.
A quiet blade sheathed in silk.
However, what wasn’t quiet was the rumbling motorcycle engine beneath you two as he drove toward the lookout spot.
His secret, special spot. Azriel mentioned it to you through texts and the thought of something so secretive to him enticed you. Of course, you said yes.
“Closer—“
A demanding tone. Yet it held a sense of carefulness to it. You scooted yourself closer to the male. Your arms locked around his waist tighter while he leaned into the final turn like he trusted the road itself.
The bikes roar simmered as he came to an easy stop. Placing both boots flat on the ground, turning his head to look at you. “Wow… Az, this is breathtaking…” A mere whisper fluttering through your lips as you took the scene in.
From the cliff, the city lights gleamed brightly in the distance, and the stars twinkled ever so perfectly above both of you.
“Isn’t it?”
His voice purring lowly, sending a shiver down your spine as you stared over at him. But Azriel? He was looking at you. Drinking in your beauty. The view that was simply you.
“It’s so sweet of you to bring me here…”
You felt the apples of your cheeks shade into a deep crimson. His intense gaze burning into yours. And for a moment you felt your heartbeat pick up. Perhaps the one between your legs as well.
A sly smirk twitched onto his lips as he hopped off the bike and onto the gravel road. Leaving you straddled on it. “You deserve it. A special spot for a special girl-“
Butterflies filled your belly. So sweet yet so damn smooth. You felt yourself staring at the handsome man, getting lost in those hazel eyes of his. But Azriel? He was doing the same, yet the amber specks were slowly darkening. “W-what? What is it?”
A breath. A tension growing between you both. Feeling a pull to him. That same sly smirk only seemed to spread wider across his features.
“Every time I look at you…I want to touch you…”
So smooth yet again. Warmth ran throughout your entire body as he brushed some of your hair behind your ear. Fuck it. He was gentleman enough. It had been a few dates. You needed him. Fucking craved him.
“Then… touch me.”
The whisper hardly left your mouth before you felt his soft lips slam to yours. His body pressing firm and tightly against your own while his other hand gripped your waist tightly.
Heated. The kiss was instantly turning into one of seduction. Azriel repositioned you, turning you to face him as you sat on the bike. The vibration from the engine only building up that arousal between your legs more so.
“God— I’ve been waiting to taste you.” He growled, his hand snaking down from your cheek to your breast. Firmly grasping it before slipping lower to the hem of your flowy sundress.
You smiled through the kiss. “And? How do I taste?” Teasing Azriel, a small groan emitted low from his throat. “Absolutely sensational.” He husked into your mouth, his hand now massaging the inside of your thigh.
A soft little whimper slipped through your lips, only giving him that approval even more. He traced over your dampened lace panties. “Got you soaked already, hm?”
That damn domineering tone. You managed a breathy “yes—“ before he yanked your panties to the side. Taking his pointer finger and running it along your slit to tease you.
Your breath hitched as he moved his mouth down to your jaw, kissing until he got to the delicate side of your neck. “You gonna be a good girl for me, beautiful?” Again, you gave a quick and eager head nod.
With that, Azriel thrusted two fingers inside of you. The cool feeling of his silver rings only adding onto the pleasurable sensation. “F-fuck!” you cried out while he smirked against your subtle skin.
“You can’t control yourself, can you? Feels too good already?”
He chuckled under his breath before pulling his head back to stare into those submissive eyes of yours. “So good, Az— fuck. You really know what you’re doing.”
“I know I do.”
His thick fingers moved in such ways that it could only be described as otherworldly. A come here motion with both of them before he stretched his thumb out to press on your swollen little bud.
All the sensations were making you melt for the male. But what was really getting you now? When Az reached over with his free hand, twisting the throttle which only made the seat vibrate harder. The motorcycle purring along with you.
“You like feeling the bike's vibration while I finger fuck this slit?” He asked as your body jolted, a sea of moans effortlessly slipping through your now swollen lips.
Again, you nodded eagerly. Euphoric sensations only rising more so. “Y-yes. I do- god it feels— fuck!- it feels so good—“
A mess. You were slowly becoming a mess for Azriel. God did he adore this sight of you. And this was just some foreplay. Nothing crazy. But god, you couldn’t even imagine how great the sex would be with him.
“You feel how close you are to cummin’ from just my fingers? Imagine my cock-“
Azriel moved his head swiftly, dropping his lips back to the crook of your neck. Kissing, biting, and sucking as he pleased. Leaving his mark on his new beautiful conquest. You.
“God— I’m really close. Really fucking close.” Your entire body started to quiver. But the biker used that same free hand to twist the throttle yet again. The vibration from revving up the engine sending you right over the edge.
“I know, sweetheart, I know… That’s a good girl- Fuck— cummin’ on my fingers like that.”
Az talked you through an intense and pleasurable orgasm. His darkened gaze falling to watch as your juices squirted out onto his hand and rings. Drenching the saddle of his bike.
Once you started to catch your breath, you felt your eyes flicker between his. Heart racing as the tension grew. “Az, that was—“ Your words cut off when suddenly bright headlights were zooming in your direction.
“Fuckin’ Hell! Hop on, babygirl-“
Low and demanding yet again, you quickly obeyed. listening to him as you adjusted yourself. Both of you repositioned on the motorcycle before he took off.
Some random people were driving around the spot. You didn’t want them to see anything. And Az? He didn’t want anyone to see you in such a vulnerable position. Because that was only for his eyes.
Possessive and jealous already, though he wouldn’t say that aloud. Not yet at least. He craved you like no other. And even though he didn’t get to feel your walls stretch around his cock tonight, he knew he would soon. Especially hearing the little noises you made for him.
But getting this little teaser? Fuck it made his imagination run wild until the next time he’d see you…
Ahhh first biker!az fic🥹 love making au’s come to life! Hope yall enjoyed this one, plenty more to comeee
A/N: I know I'm incredibly late, but I've been really busy lately. However, I managed to write this collection of short drabbles of how I imagine ACOTAR men would celebrate Halloween with their S/O. Enjoy!
Azriel
It was All Hallows’ Eve. Everyone was out in Velaris, celebrating and laughing the night away. Crowds weren’t Azriel’s thing, you knew that. He preferred quieter things.
You found him on the roof of the House of Wind, lying on the cold stone and watching the stars. His shadows stirred when you stepped closer, alerting him to your presence.
He turned his head toward you, a faint smile ghosting his lips. “Hey.”
“Hey back.” You returned his smile and crossed the space between you. When he lifted an arm in invitation, you nestled beside him, resting your head on his shoulder.
“I thought you’d be out celebrating with the others,” he murmured.
“And leave you to brood and sulk alone? No way,” you teased, tracing idle shapes on his chest.
A soft chuckle escaped him. “You know you can go out and have fun, right? You don’t have to stay behind for my sake.”
“Az, there is no fun without you. My place is here, by your side. So is my happiness. So if you’re gonna spend the night watching the stars, then so will I.” You paused, smiling faintly. “Besides, I like having you all to myself like this.”
His chest rose in quiet breath, shadows brushing softly over your skin as if echoing his contentment. “You sure you don’t want to light a candle or something?” he asked after a moment. “To lighten the place up a bit?”
You shook your head, gaze still fixed on the constellations above. “No. I don’t need a candle,” you whispered. “You are my light, Az.”
His heart stumbled in his chest. He turned, pressing a gentle kiss to your hair, his voice barely above a murmur. “Happy All Hallows’ Eve, Y/n.”
Cassian
Cider, lanterns, laughter, costumes, the whole All Hallows’s Eve Festival might as well have been invented for Cassian. He won a ridiculous number of games, cheated only when it made you laugh, and kissed you wet and grinning after an unfair victory at apple-bobbing.
“You’re insufferable,” you told him, breathless, pushing him off you teasingly.
“You love me like this,” he shot back, hauling you into a spinning dance as a band struck up something loud and fast. His hands were everywhere, steady at your waist, teasing at your hips, until the music slowed and so did he.
“You look happy,” you said softly.
He ducked his head, that rare soft smile peeking through the swagger as he brushed his lips against your jaw. “You do that.”
Your heart skipped, and before you could respond, he twirled you around and dipped you the moment you faced him again. It was so sudden you didn’t even have time to gasp before he leaned down again and started kissing your throat right there on the dance floor.
“Cassian, people are staring!” you hissed, swatting at him.
“Let them,” he murmured against your skin, voice muffled and smug.
You somehow finally distracted him with a pint of ale, which worked, until you regretted it later when he was spectacularly drunk.
When another drunk tried to flirt with you, Cassian didn’t even glance his way. “Sorry, brother,” he said mildly, drawing you closer. “She’s busy.”
“With what?” you asked, amused.
He pulled you into his lap, brushing his mouth over your cheek. “Me.”
You burst out laughing. He looked ridiculously proud of himself for managing that answer.
You spent the rest of the night dragging him from stall to stall, his arm slung heavy around your shoulders, both of you giggling under the strings of faelights. Velaris shimmered with lanterns and laughter. And Cassian glanced up a few times, eyes half-lidded and soft. “Oh, sweetheart,” he slurred,”we should stay and have fun with the others.”
You sighed, adjusting his weight. “We already did, Cass. You’re barely conscious.”
He grinned sleepily. “Still fun.”
By the time you made it home, you barely managed to shove him onto the bed. But before you could step away, his hand caught yours, tugging you done onto his chest.
“Better,” he muttered, smirking. His arms locked around you in a possessive, heavy, unrelenting hold, so you couldn’t move even if you tried.
And just like that, the Lord of Bloodshed and General of the Night Court was out cold, snoring loud enough to wake the dead, with you stuck on top of him.
Rhysand
Rhysand had insisted on throwing a masquerade ball at the River House, because of course he did. Velaris was alive with lanterns, children running in painted masks, but the real spectacle was the party he’d arranged. Velvet draped the walls, golden candlelight flickered from every corner, and music swelled in the grand hall as half the city danced beneath enchanted chandeliers.
“You do know this isn’t your holiday, right?” you teased as he pulled you onto the dance floor. His mask was black and gold, but you’d recognize that smug grin anywhere.
“Everything is my holiday if I decide it is,” he murmured against your ear, spinning you before drawing you flush against him again. “Besides, what good is Hallows’ Night if I can’t make a spectacle of you?”
You laughed despite yourself, your mask slipping a little as he leaned closer. “So this whole ball was just an excuse to show me off?”
“Obviously,” he said without a hint of shame. His hand skimmed lower along your back, sending a shiver up your spine. “Look at them, all of Velaris staring, and none of them daring to touch. It’s almost enough to make me jealous.”
“Almost?”
Rhys’s grin sharpened. He bent his head, lips brushing the curve of your jaw through the mask. “Almost, because I know how you’ll look later, when the music is gone, and it’s just us, and I have you pressed against the window with nothing but the stars watching.”
Heat curled through you, but you pushed lightly against his chest. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” he purred, twirling you in a dizzying spin before catching you again, “you adore me.”
By the time the music slowed, your mask was askew, your cheeks flushed, and Rhys was looking at you like you were the only one in the room. He reached up to fix the ribbon at your temple, fingers brushing your skin with deliberate slowness.
“Beautiful,” he said softly. No tease this time, no sharp edge, just that voice he only ever used when it was the two of you.
“Happy Hallows’ Night, darling. Now come with me before I forget how to be a gentleman.”
And judging by the wicked gleam in his eyes, you knew he already had.
Lucien
Lucien didn’t need a festival. He preferred a lantern-lit walk through the woods, your hands brushing as he told stories of spirits and old traditions. When you flinched at a whisper in the trees, his fingers found yours.
“Stay close,” he said, his fox’s grin softened by the firelight. “It’s only spirits passing by.”
“Where are we going, Lucien?” you asked, still glancing around warily.
“There’s a field beyond the woods. It’s where the spirits rise to the sky. You’ll see, it’s worth it.”
“And you’re sure these spirits aren’t…harmful?” you pressed, unease still curling in your stomach.
He stopped then, turning to face you fully. His hands came to rest gently on your shoulders. “I’d never take you anywhere I thought you’d be in danger,” he said softly. “And you know I’d never let anything harm you.”
You hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll follow your lead.”
His smile returned, small but genuine, as he laced your fingers together and guided you through the last stretch of trees. The forest opened into a quiet meadow bathed in starlight. Colored mist rose from afar, drifting lazily toward the sky.
“Wow,” you breathed, looking up in awe.
Lucien sat down in the grass, tugging your hand to bring you down beside him. “Those,” he said, following your gaze, “are the spirits I told you about.”
“They’re beautiful,” you whispered.
But his eyes never left your face. “They are,” he murmured, a faint smile curving his lips. “So very beautiful.”
The sky shimmered above you, and he watched in silence, content, because seeing you happy had always been enough to make him happy too.
Eris
Eris, as always didn’t ask you to meet him, he summoned you, with yet another ‘urgent’ letter. Same clearing as always, same impatient tilt to his mouth, same attempt at pretending this meant nothing.
“You’re late,” he said, leaning against the same old tree.
“And you’re dramatic,” you returned, crossing your arms. “What now?”
Eris rolled a small wrapped box across his knuckles, then held it out without meeting your eyes. “Take it.”
You stared. “On Hallows’ Eve?”
He scoffed. “It’s a day. Days pass. Open it.”
Inside was a slender, fire-wrought pin, elegant, unmistakably Autumn Court. You looked up; he was already glancing away like he hadn’t spent weeks choosing it.
“It’s not a declaration,” he said smoothly. “Don’t make it one.”
“Of course not,” you said, pinning it just above your heart. “It’s nothing. But just so you know, people don’t usually gift each other things on Hallows’ Eve.”
Silence followed. His gaze dropped to the pin against your chest; something inside him tightened.
“Wear it to the ball tonight,” he said at last.
“The ball?” you echoed, brow raised.
“My father is hosting one. In honor of the deceased, or whatever.”
“Ah, and you want me to attend?” you asked, unable to hide your amusement.
“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want you to.”
“You didn’t ask,” you reminded.
“Don’t be a smartass,” he shot back.
“Don’t be a bastard,” you countered.
He exhaled through his nose, clearly restraining a smile. “Fine. You want me to ask properly or something?”
“For starters, yes,” you said, crossing your arms.
He inhaled deeply then exhaled, resigned. “Y/n… come to the ball tonight.” He glanced up, saw you weren’t budging, and added quietly, “please?”
You smirked, amused. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?
“Is that a yes?”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Eris. It’s a yes. I’ll come to the damn ball.”
“Good.” His voice softened, the edge fading. “Happy Hallows’ Eve.”
“It’s not—” you began, but the words were lost as he stepped forward, fast, fingers at your jaw, mouth finding yours in a kiss so precise it felt like a brand. When he pulled back, his voice was a warning and a confession at once. “Don’t read into it.”
You smiled against his mouth. “Never do. It means nothing.”
He kissed you again, rougher, messier, like he despised how much it meant, how much he craved it.
Helping Hand - Explicit Smut + Fluff. Porn Without Plot basically. WC : 5K
Pierced By Spring - Explicit Smut + Fluff. Rhysand gets a new piercing and tests it out on Tamlin. WC : 1.5 K
Beneath The Boughs And The Stars - Explicit + Fluff ( yes i have a type ) Lots of sexual tension during a combat lesson. WC : 1 K
In The Devil's Deck - I dont know how to explain this except that its a sexy torture scene with angst. WC: 2K. TW: Blood, mentions of torture with rope, etc.
- @sonics-atelier 2025 ( do not repost or reuse in any way, shape or form )
Can Fic writers stop tagging every single goddamn ship like this please! Or at least say it’s an Elriel/whoever endgame fic or something. Theres no way I am wasting time reading a fic if I don’t know who the endgame is….no way I am risking reading a 30 chapter fic thats starts off elriel or ends with a different ship. This goes for any ship/shipper/fandom, I doubt a Nessian wants to read a potential Eris/Nesta fic by accident(unless they’re into that i guess lol), or a elucien wants to read a Vassien fic, etc…
I can’t be the only one who feels this way. That couldn’t possibly gain writers more followers.
Who the hell is the fic about? Unless its a poly fic theres only one endgame.
This drives me absolutely batshit up-the-wall crazy 🙄 🤬
I bet there are fantastic Elriel fics i have skipped over because of this
A/N: I’M SO SORRY THIS IS SOME WEEKS LATE, BUT I MADE IT, I DID IT!!!!
@darkshadowqueensrule ELLA THIS IS FOR YOU. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FLUFFY;) THING AS MUCH I DID PLANNING AND WRITING IT AND I HOPE IT BRINGS YOU JOY
Word count: 3,098
Cassian had so much to do that day that he cursed himself for not thinking of everything sooner. He had already bought the flowers for Nesta, who lay in the seat next to him, and the smell of the food and spices their neighbor had given him was already intoxicating him. He just hoped it wouldn't get too cold by the time they got to Azriel and Emerie's house. They were all going to be there, as they did every year, to celebrate Nesta's birthday in company, but before joining their family, Cassian had to pick up each of his four children from school.
He arrived almost immediately at the school of the youngest, Alesia and Becan, and smiled when he saw them on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for the line of cars to flow by until theirs would appear in the parking lot.
They were only a year apart, but Alesia was the oldest, and in the last year she had grown so much that Cassian's heart ached every time he looked at her. She was starting to look like Nesta and he couldn't have been happier, even though she was losing the light blonde hair that was being replaced by the classic light brown color of the Archeron sisters.
Becan, on the other hand, looked exactly like Leka, his oldest son, and both were the exact copy of Cassian, it was as if they weren't even Nesta's children. Both of his little men looked older than they were, and they never failed to have that silly, cocky grin on their faces - as Nesta used to point out.
When the two children saw the familiar car they lit up, pointing him out to the teacher and starting to run towards him. Alesia was the first to catch up and got in right away, pulling up Becan's backpack, which at times seemed to tower over him as big as it was.
"Hello gorgeous." said Cassian turning to his children.
"Hi daddy!" they both yelled.
He reached out a hand to his daughter's head, fixing her hair behind her ear and then turned to his son, "What did you guys do today?"
Becan was arranging his backpack next to him with a frown on his face, "I had English and we got to plurals and the teacher said we're great, but I didn't understand why I can't say foots." concluded the youngest looking directly at him. Alesia beside him giggled, turning to face her father as well.
Cassian's eyes went wide with amusement, restraining himself from laughing, "What do you mean?"
"Why do I have to say feet?" the boy asked, arching an eyebrow, "Why can't I just say foots, or mouses?" then he shrugged, curling the corner of his mouth, "We'll never know."
"It's the irregulars," Alesia beat him to the punch, still looking at him for approval. Cassian smiled at her and nodded slightly, "There are no real rules, you just have to read a lot of texts."
A car in line behind them honked and Cassian huffed, turning back to the steering wheel, "Seatbelts please." he waited to hear the click of both children before driving off towards Xhuli's school, his first daughter. He turned on the radio, keeping the volume low enough to hear what his children were telling him.
He was more relaxed than in years past, oddly enough. He was always so fidgety during this time of year, and when Nesta's birthday came around, he couldn't help but remember all the times they had been young and celebrated for days on the beaches of Adriata, waiting for the sun to go down and rise the next day from over the mountains. He couldn't help but think of all the little gifts he gave her - the shells, the stones, the flowers - that Nesta had kept throughout the years to come and that still sat on the middle shelf of the bookcase in their room.
He thought about how the light from the coastal region was a gift from the gods, the way it had lit up Nesta's clear eyes every holy time, making them shine just for him.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, focusing on his daughter's words.
"Then during the break Ella gave me a piece of her snack and I gave her a piece of mine," Alesia yawned, then nodded thoughtfully, "She's nice."
"And did you manage to do the geography test or was it too hard?" he asked her, turning into the street of Xhuli's school.
"It went well, I think," she murmured, "although I couldn't remember the name of the mountains in Illyria, what are they called?" she asked curiously, leaning forward. Cassian restrained himself from telling her to sit down in the seat, as an unnatural fear welled up inside him.
He cast a glance at Becan as well, to make sure he was buckled in properly as well.
"Myrmidons." sighed Cassian, returning his eyes to the road as his heart sped up in his chest.
"Yeah!" shouted Alesia, grunting, "The Myrmidons." then slammed a hand on her forehead dramatically.
"Are we going to Uncle Az's?" asked Becan suddenly.
Cassian parked the car under the big oak tree where he always waited for Xhuli to get out of school and unbuckled his belt, turning to face his kids, "We have to pick up Leka first, then we'll stop by mom's and then we'll all go to Az's together, yeah." he replied, reminding them that they wouldn't be eating at home today and they wouldn't have to wait for the oldest to come back with the bus. Becan nodded, yawning as well, and Alesia laughed, reaching over to stick a finger in his mouth until he had it wide open.
Cassian laughed when Becan closed his teeth on her finger and Alesia wailed, retracting her hand instantly afterwards.
The little boy unbuckled his belt, "Can I show you what I made for mommy?" he asked his dad. Cassian nodded excitedly, smiling at him, but feeling his heart tighten in his chest, "It's not beautiful, but the teacher said it's the thought that counts."
At that he snorted, because it sounded like something Teacher Aelin might have said, but the laugh was short-lived, because Becan showed him a drawing of them. It wasn't a masterpiece, as the child had already anticipated, but you could see how much effort he had put into coloring inside the lines, going over the edges with markers. He and Nesta were in the middle of the paper and holding hands, lying on what Cassian imagined were beach towels on the sand, while their four children were all in the water and playing catch.
"It's Adriata." he whispered, swallowing noisily and handing the drawing back to his son, "It's really beautiful, you've improved so much since last year."
Becan beamed all over, thanking him and settling back in his seat, bringing the drawing to his lap. Cassian turned around when he heard his new teenager's voice ring out not far from them and smiled, seeing that she was running to the car, waving her hand at him. He raised his own, waving back.
"And I made this card," the little girl said, pushing something shiny between the two front seats. Cassian wanted to laugh at the amount of pink and gold glitters on that thing. "But I don't know if mom will like this cause it's very sparkly."
"I'm sure she'll love it." he said, smiling reassuringly at his daughter through the rearview mirror. "What did you write inside?"
"That I love her and that I-" she couldn't finish the sentence, because Xhuli had flung the door wide open.
"Hello everyone!" she squealed, picking up the flowers and putting them on her legs, getting into the car. She turned to Cassian, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek and turning to her siblings right after, "Are you ready to play ride or die all afternoon?" she cheered them on with a bright smile on her face.
Alesia and Becan shrieked in delight, jerking their hands in the air and Cassian shook his head, his eyes wide, "Why do you always have to instigate them to play that awful game?" he asked her as he settled into his seat, "Someone always ends up getting hurt and crying."
Xhuli chuckled, shrugging, "It's always Tedian or Daorsa anyway."
Cassian looked at her open-mouthed, "Xhuli."
"What?" she asked equally dumbfounded, then huffed, looking ahead, "Even Uncle Rhys always says they're whiners and should learn to take jokes," she told him with a pointed look, "And he's their father."
He shook his head, running his hand over his face, "If your mother were here-"
"She'd tell me to make them cry harder probably," Xhuli chuckled again, "Come on you go, I can't wait to eat Aunt Emerie's meat pie."
"Belts." laughed Cassian, not leaving until he was sure everyone was buckled in.
The drive to Leka's high school was longer, considering he was studying downtown, but Cassian relaxed a bit as Xhuli distracted the little ones, focusing on the road.
"I got a nine in literature today," the oldest daughter said, catching his attention. Shifting his gaze to her for a moment he noticed that she was torturing her hands, playing with one of the rings Nesta left her.
He gave her a warm smile, "It's a really good grade, I'm proud of you."
"And I finished the correction before the others, so I did something for mom," she said in a more uncertain voice, starting to rummage through her backpack. He couldn't see her face, but he knew her cheeks were red. "It's crap."
Cassian really didn't understand where all the low self-esteem that seemed to be in each of his children that day was coming from. He guessed that the idea of doing something that Nesta might not like scared them as much as it had scared him in the early days of dating.
They stopped at a red light and Xhuli held out the small blue piece of paper toward him.
He opened his eyes wide again, admiring the way she'd folded each corner, where she'd decorated the still visible parts of the paper, until it was a beautiful heron in flight.
"Baby," he breathed, "I know I'm supposed to scold you for doing this at school, but-" he chuckled, shaking his head, "it's beautiful." and a relieved, very short laugh escaped her lips.
"Thanks, dad."
They arrived shortly thereafter at Leka's school, who was standing on the sidewalk and looking annoyed. When the car stopped just ahead of where he was, Becan unbuckled his seatbelt, shifting into the middle seat, but his older brother opened the passenger door, nodding to Xhuli, "Get in the back."
"Excuse me?" his sister asked, genuinely shocked.
Leka clenched his jaw and looked at her with dark eyes. Cassian knew immediately that something was wrong.
The son huffed, "I said go to the back."
"No," Xhuli shook her head, "I got here first and you're always in the front."
"Stop that right now," his father scolded them both. Then he crossed Leka's gaze and his son looked over the car, across the road.
Xhuli had a deep frown on her face, "He started it."
Cassian sighed, looking at the girl, "Could you please get in the back?" when she gaped, he clasped his hands around the steering wheel, "I know, you're already sitting in the front and it would be so much easier and faster if he just got in the back, but it's a hard day for him and-"
"It's not hard just for him," she retorted, in a tone of voice Cassian had never heard her use. She sounded like Nesta at that moment, authoritative rather than condescending.
"Please," he whispered, looking into her eyes.
Xhuli must have seen something in his gaze, because she huffed and gathered up her stuff, before walking out and giving her brother a shove. Leka didn't even seem to mind and dropped into the seat next to Cassian, quickly buckling himself in and resting his hood-covered head against the window.
"Leka-"
"Just drive, please," he murmured, not even looking at his father.
The relatively cheerful air that had been there up until that point had disappeared completely, and even when Becan had tried to get his older brother's attention, he hadn't paid any attention to him at all. Xhuli had tried to point out to him that he was being an asshole, but Cassian had snapped at her, and told her to apologize straight away.
They'd started talking about who would give their mom the gift first, and Cassian had more felt than seen, Leka tense up at his siblings' words. He had taken deep, shuddering breaths and it had taken all his strength for the man not to stop and hug his son in the middle of the road.
The second they pulled up in front of the particularly green and overgrown lawn, the three little ones hopped out of the car without even waiting for their father's permission and started running towards what they knew was their mother's gravestone.
Leka looked away from his siblings, shifting his gaze to his father and then his eyes filled with tears, but nothing fell down his cheeks, "I want to leave."
Cassian felt his heart in his throat, his hands trembling around the steering wheel.
"I want to go home, I don't want to go to the uncles," Leka continued, shaking his head, "I want to get out of here."
"Leka..." he tried again, reaching out a hand toward him. His son smacked his arm, pushing him away. Cassian closed his eyes.
"No!" he shrieked into the silence of the cockpit. His eyes were wide and he was struggling to breathe, "Why do we have to do this every year? It's sick." he spat at him.
Cassian shifted his gaze to his children, the ones who were now kneeling in front of his wife's grave. In front of the grave he took such good care of as he had taken care of Nesta while she was alive. Alesia was opening the card she had drawn at school and he saw a pool of glitter fall on the grass in front of them.
He turned to Leka, feeling his eyes water, "We need-"
"We don't need anything." he interjected again, more angrily, "You, you need this thing, because you can't seem to get away from mom."
Cassian jerked back at those words, opening his eyes even wider.
Leka seemed satisfied with that reaction because he continued, "She died five fucking years ago," he spoke through his teeth, "and you still bring me here and make me stand in front of her grave for an hour like it's going to do me any good, like talking to a fucking stone is going to help me." his son's voice cracked at the end of the sentence and tears slid down his skin. Cassian let go of a breath as his heart tightened in his chest more with every word Leka said.
"Stop it, you don't mean that," Cassian murmured, turning toward the gravestone-covered lawns, catching sight of some other relative who had come to visit a lost loved one.
"Yes, dad, I do," Leka shouted, "and being here so long, it hurts me! Just being here makes me so sick I can't breathe, and it makes me miss mom so much I can't think." a sob broke Cassian's breath, and he forced himself to look at his son. Leka was in no better condition than he was. "We come here and I can't think," he sobbed.
His face flushed, his breathing short, tears now falling without concern. He was opening and closing the fingers of his hands, looking for something to distract him from the pain so deep and inescapable that was grief.
Nesta Archeron, mother of four beautiful children and wife of the luckiest man in the world, had died in a car accident just a week after turning thirty-five. It didn't take long to realize that the news had shattered not only the family, but the entire neighborhood.
Cassian didn't remember much about the first few months after Nesta's death, always in a delirious state between anger and despair, but when it had taken shape in his head, when his body and mind had finally been ready to accept that this was now his new reality, another kind of grief, completely different from what he had experienced up until that moment, had taken over.
His children had needed him. And he hadn't been there for them.
Nesta would have been ashamed of him.
That had made him wake up somehow.
The idea of Nesta watching him, from wherever she was at that moment, and judging him for the way he had abandoned everything - for the way he had abandoned their children - had revived him and made him find his place in the lives of his daughters and sons.
And now, as he looked into his son's pitch-brown eyes, he couldn't speak, just as he had years before.
"Dad." Leka begged him in a broken voice, "Please let's go home."
Cassian shook his head, closing his eyes, "I can't."
Leka burst into tears, bringing both hands to his face to cover the grimace of pain and suffering as his body was shaken by loud sobs. Cassian placed a hand on his back, crying silently in turn, and Leka didn't take half a second before he pushed himself to him and let his father cradle him in his arms.
"I miss her so much." whispered Cassian as he wrapped his son up, "Every day."
Leka made a sound much like an animal that had just been shot before he resumed crying more loudly, "I miss mom."
His heart clenched so tightly in his chest that Cassian thought he was going to die, "I know."
"I miss mom." repeated Leka, pressing his face against his chest.
"We'll make it through, for her." murmured Cassian, clasping his hands around his jacket and bringing him as close to him as he could. He could feel Leka shaking, and he just wanted Nesta to be there with them, to help him fix the mess that was their lives. Watching Becan as he picked up the paper bird and flew it high above them, he thought he could never make it without the love of his life, but he still said, "We have to."
A/N: There’s one thing I always tell my readers, be aware of the winky faces;) I leave them anywhere I plan on destroying people’s hearts, so yeah, you’ve kinda been warned about the fact that this was NOT going to be fluff, I hope you liked it anyway, goodnight guys:)
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Summary: Cassian is really curious about the new boy at school who is quiet and mysterious. Cassian just wants to know more about him. That's all, right? - Cassian and Azriel pairing.
Word Count: 1178
A/N: This is part two of @simping4bookboisngrls secret snowflake gift (once again, thank you @ladynestaarcheron for organising it!) I wrote this when I decided I hated the other one but hey, you get 2 fics now instead so yay!
Cassian wasn't sure how he felt about the new boy. Living in Illyria, you don't get many new people at school, and if you do, you usually know them anyway. This boy though, Cassian had never even heard of, let alone seen. Cassian thinks he would've remembered seeing this boy before. He was Janek's son, one of them anyway, but everyone had seen Janek's son's before, nobody had seen this one.
There were all sorts of rumours going around in school about him. Some people said he was adopted. Some people said that he was broken, couldn't speak, and so his mother had decided she didn't want him anymore and sent him to live with his father instead. Some people said that he had lived with his mother, but he had murdered someone, and it was either going to prison or living with his father. Either way, people in the school decided the mysterious boy was trouble.
Cassian was curious by nature. He knew the saying curiosity killed the cat, but he just couldn't help himself sometimes. The new boy was just another thing he couldn't help himself with. He just had to find out more about him. Plus, he knew that the second half of the curiosity killed the cat saying was that satisfaction brought it back.
He knew it was going to be difficult. The boy's name was Azriel, which he learnt from overhearing some teachers talking. Cassian watched Azriel a lot since they had a lot of classes together. Rhys kept saying he was being creepy, but he just didn't get it. Cassian wasn't being nosy, and he wasn't a gossip. There was just something about this Azriel that intrigued him. He wanted to know more.
That was why, despite Rhys desperately trying to persuade him not to, Cassian decided to sit next to Azriel at lunch. Rhys was in the library trying to desperately finish some homework he hadn't done, so Cassian had decided it was the perfect opportunity. When he had text Rhys, Rhys had simply washed his hands of the entire situation and told him that if he got punched in the face it would serve him right. Cassian disagreed but didn't have the time to argue with him.
"Hey, do you mind if I sit here?" Cassian asked, gesturing towards the empty chair at the table Azriel was sat at. The table was right at the back of the dining hall, and nobody really sat there because it was a little creepy and hidden away in the shadows. Also because it was very far away from all the food. Clearly, that didn’t bother Azriel though.
Azriel didn't look up from his phone, shrugging to show Cassian he didn't care what he did. Cassian took that as permission to sit down. He started rummaging in his bag for his packed lunch since he hated the food they served at school. Azriel had some kind of plate of food in front of him, but with the food, they cooked at school, it never resembled what it was claiming to be.
"You're brave, aren't you?" Cassian said, without thinking about what he was saying. Rhys always said he lacked a brain to mouth filter, but now he was really feeling it.
Azriel looked up from his phone this time, those beautiful hazel eyes which looked almost golden meeting his own. Cassian couldn't figure out why he was suddenly blushing, and so he ignored it. It was probably just because he was blurting out dumb stuff anyway.
"Sorry, I just meant that you're brave for trying to eat that school food. I'm not sure what they do in the kitchens but-" Cassian shuddered at the thought of school lunches, "the look vile."
Azriel raised his eyebrow at Cassian in answer and simply studied him. Cassian had never been looked at with such scrutiny before, and couldn't help but blush deeper. Unlike most people, Azriel did not shy away from the fact that Cassian was studying him, while he studied Cassian, he was carefully neutral.
"I don't mind them," Cassian heard the reply and knew it came from Azriel but was still shocked to hear him speak. The shock probably showed on his face, because Azriel looked at Cassian's face and snorted. "What, is it so scary to hear my voice that you're going to pass out now?"
"I, no, wait, that's not why I-" Cassian scrambled, trying to think of an answer quickly. He could feel his face start to heat as he looked at Azriel who looked back, looking unimpressed.
Thankfully, Azriel cut his awkward brain malfunction off with another snort, which turned into a full-on laugh. Cassian couldn't help but feel like the sound of Azriel's deep laugh took the air from his lungs. When Azriel had stopped laughing, and Cassian had managed to close his mouth, Azriel finally spoke. "Listen, I know you've been watching me for a little while now, but I just can’t figure out why. At first, I thought it was because I was getting loads of girls throwing themselves at me, and you were pissed I took some attention away from you, but then I realised you didn't seem pissed off. So what is it?"
"Do those girls bother you? I know they can get a little much sometimes?"
"Is that why you watch me so much? You're concerned that all those girls are bothering me?"
Cassian blushed, looking away from Azriel's intense gaze. "I, no, I just was intrigued by you."
"What about me intrigues you Cassian?" Something in his tone of voice made Cassian look Azriel in his eyes, despite the fact he could feel his face heating.
"Your face, specifically, your lips," Cassian wasn't sure what had made him admit the truth, but he never thought about anything anyway. He was either about to get punched or let down very nicely though, he could sense it. He was just glad that nobody else would be able to see them in this corner of the dining hall.
Azriel stood up, and Cassian sigh. He knew he should've kept his mouth shut. He looked away, not wanting to watch whatever Azriel did, especially if he decided to punch him, which is why it was a complete surprise to feel someone press their lips against his. He let out a little gasp of air as he looked to see Azriel pulling away far too quickly, but the short time Azriel's lips had touched his was enough to have fireworks going off in his mind.
"I hope that your curiosity has been satisfied. If not, then text me," Azriel disappeared, leaving a paper to flutter down onto the table with his number on it. Cassian couldn't move though, he was too busy replaying the kiss in his head. He couldn’t believe it was real, but once his brain had caught up, he quickly saved Azriel's number into his phone before he lost it. He definitely had not been satisfied with just a quick kiss. He knew he needed more.
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What to Expect When You’re (Not) Expecting: Chapter Twelve
an A Court of Thorns and Roses Modern Au
All characters belong to SJM!
WTEWY(N)E Masterlist
My other completed fic: Breath Control
Enjoy and let me know if you’d like to be tagged!
TWELVE
Feyre
Monday morning, I walked into the school with a mission. I had thought about what Mor told me. This led to me coming to the conclusion that a friendship with Rhys wouldn’t hurt and that if I wanted it, I’d have to work for it. I decided to text Rhys and casually ask how he was doing. Emphasis on casually.
Before the first bell, I drafted a text, sent it, and turned my phone over. I was determined not to look at it until at least second hour.
Thinking about potential responses from Rhys kept me anxious and distracted for the entirety of my first hour. The freshman I was teaching were confused the whole time, and when they realized my brain wasn’t all there, they started getting rowdy. For the life of me I couldn’t get the group in the back to quiet down. Finally, in the last ten minutes of class, I told them they had free time to work on their essay and to come talk to me if they needed help with outlining it or anything.
I slumped into the chair behind my desk. Reached for my phone, and--
A sharp knock sounded on my classroom door. Startled, I abandoned my phone and went to answer it.
The door swung open to reveal the Velaris High School Principal, Mr. Autumns. My heart stopped when I looked up to see his face.
“Mr. Autumns!” I spluttered. “How can I help you?” I had never received such a personal visit from the standoffish principal of the school.
“Ms. Archeron.” His beady eyes bored into mine. I held back a shudder. “May I speak with you in the hall for a moment?”
I cast a backward glance at my full classroom. All twenty pairs of eyes were zeroed in on my and the principal. I raised my brows at the class, trying to convey a look that said, “If you get out of control, I’ll give you no more than half-credit on all your essays,” but I wasn’t really sure if it came across properly. I got several weird looks from the kids in the front row. And I had a feeling the ones in the back were already plotting something to do while I was away. Weren’t high schoolers supposed to be mature? Nevertheless, I stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut behind me.
“What is it?”
Autumns crossed his arms, his chin tilted at an extremely sharp angle just to be able to see me from such a height. “I didn’t want to have to do this, Ms. Archeron. I know you’ve had a rough couple of months. But your work just hasn’t been up to my or the school’s standards. Your lesson plans are haphazard at best, you’re extremely behind on grading and grade reports, and I don’t think your students are getting enough homework.”
I blinked. What? He looked at me expectantly, his lips cutting a cruel, thin line across the bottom half of his face.
“I don’t understand. I’ve been getting my lesson plans in on time, and I work really hard on them. My students have plenty of homework, and most of their grades are fantastic.”
Autumns shrugged his shoulders. “You’re a new teacher, and you’ve suffered a terrible loss. I’ve been cutting you some slack. But it’s time to realize that those lesson plans need to be written out much further in advance. And you’ve got to get on top of your grading. Otherwise, we might have to take more drastic action.” He leaned closer to me. “And we wouldn’t want to have to do that, would we Ms. Archeron?”
I swallowed. What an asshole. I wanted to yell, to scream, to tell him I was doing the best I could and the kids in my class were learning even if I didn’t give them hours of homework every night. Wasn’t learning the most important thing?
But with the kids, money was tight. If I didn’t swallow my pride, if I let myself get angry at the guy who could fire me on the spot. . . No, probably not the best course of action.
I pursed my lips. “No. No, we wouldn’t. I’ll do better. I promise.”
Autumns smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes. “Good. I’ll be keeping a close eye on things in case you need any further. . . assistance.”
I could barely spit out the next disgusting words that came from my mouth. “Thank you, sir.”
His smile widened. He turned on his heel. As I was about to reenter the classroom, taking a few breaths to steady myself beforehand, I heard his voice call out to me from down the hall as he walked away.
“Get those lesson plans up to snuff, Ms. Archeron!” He chirped in a singsong voice. I very nearly ripped open my classroom door and slammed it behind me. Bastard. Ignorant, sexist, male pig. I stomped over to my desk and threw myself down into the chair. Huffed out a loud breath and maybe let a few hissed curse words escape
Then I remembered I had a classroom full of kids in front of me.
I glanced up at them.
The twenty sets of eyes were locked on me yet again, although now the teenagers’ expressions were a mixture of curious, awestruck, and maybe a little frightened. I smiled.
“Anyone need some help with their essays?”
--------------
So upsetting was my little chat with Mr. Autumns, I entirely forgot about my text to Rhys until my lunch break. When I picked up my phone to scroll through social media, I had two messages from him. My salad forgotten, I almost knocked over the ungraded stack of essays next to me while typing in my password. Taking deep breaths, telling myself to stop making a scene, I opened my long-dead conversation with Rhys and read his reply.
Rhysand Night: I’m doing well.
Rhysand Night: Meeting up to talk sounds good
I almost passed out with relief. Maybe he didn’t hate me. If he didn’t, at least that was one positive thing to come out of this day. I’d grown even more out of sorts after Autumn’s surprise meeting with me. It was all I could do to keep control of my classes when I kept replaying his words to me over and over in my head. I wasn’t doing enough. My work sucked. I was in danger of losing my job.
That wasn’t an option. The kids needed me, and I needed money so I could do things like feed them and give them whatever they needed. Had I still been with Tamlin, I would have allowed him to pitch in. But that was no longer an option.
I made a note to start churning out more content for prints to sell on my online shop. I’d been doing steady business on the store for a few months now. The only thing slowing it down was my lack of time to create more art. I wasn’t sure how I’d increase production and improve the quality of my teaching work, but somehow, I’d have to do both. I needed the extra cash from the print shop in case the worst happened at school.
I typed out a vague response to Rhys, suggesting he come have dinner with his siblings one night next week. He responded almost immediately. My heartbeat ratcheted up when I saw how quickly he answered.
Oh my god. I was sixteen again. He has a girlfriend, Feyre.
I left the school earlier than normal because I needed to do some grocery shopping. I also needed to buy Basil some new shoes. He was growing so fast, I could barely keep up with him. I texted Rachel and told her I’d be back around six, giving me enough time to shop for food and clothing.
When I was in the supercenter, I remembered that I also needed to buy Aspen a daisy scouts vest, and we also needed to buy the required forty boxes of cookies she had to sell this fall. But after I saw the checkout total for groceries and Bas’s shoes, I started wondering whether I’d be able to afford all of that right now. Sure, I could buy it. But my savings account was dwindling, much as I tried to put my salary into it whenever I could.
I reluctantly handed over my debit card to the cashier, who gave me a look as though she understood my money struggles all too well. After she swiped it, I loaded up my car and drove straight to the bar a block from my place.
After this day, I needed a stiff drink before I went home to the kids.
-------------------
Rhysand
Amy and I were in an argument. The reason for the argument? I didn’t really know. She wanted to spend more time with me, apparently. I had a feeling she just wanted to have sex a lot more often, but as I kept reminding her, I had more responsibilities than the average twenty-four year old man. She didn’t care, of course. She never asked to spend time with my siblings; not that I really wanted her to get within ten feet of them. Amy, despite being exciting and dangerous, was kind of a bitch. My siblings didn’t need her as an example for behavior or relationships.
Because of my stress about Amy, after work on a Monday in early October I stopped off at a bar near the high school before going home. Nearly everything today had gone wrong at the Dreamhouse and my development across town. Plumbers didn’t show up, supplies weren’t coming quickly enough, landscaping refused to work on certain days. . . You name it, it probably happened today. Fighting with Amy (an impossible task) was the cherry on top it all, and I needed a drink.
I sat at the bar, swirling the whiskey in my glass around and staring into space. Feyre Archeron had texted me today. She’d actually reached out. It’d been a month, so I should be over that little crush. . . But seeing her randomly at the Dreamhouse or hearing about her from Rachel was torture. Not to mention, Feyre and my cousin had become pretty good friends over the past few weeks. I couldn’t escape her no matter where I turned. Honestly, a small part of me didn’t really want to escape her.[1]
When Feyre had texted me today I couldn’t stop myself from responding as soon as I read her message. She wanted to talk. Had she decided she could stomach being around me even though I was part of the reason her engagement had ended? She probably just wanted to clear the air, but what if she wanted something more?
Doesn’t matter, Rhys, I chided myself. You have a girlfriend.
But all thoughts of my girlfriend drained out of my head when I saw Feyre Archeron walk through the doors of the bar, looking for all the world like she’d been through hell and back today. My hand shot up, waving her over, before I realized what I was doing. Her facial expression shifted into something that might have been confusion before her eyes drooped back down. She looked exhausted.
“Rhysand,” she said coolly, sliding onto the barstool next to me.
I slid my drink toward her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it looks like you might need this.”
She looked at me, and for a second I worried that she’d take offense to what I said. But then she raised the glass in my direction and knocked back the knuckle’s length in all of two seconds.
“Another one,” she said roughly to the bartender. “And bring one for my friend as well.”
I stared at her.
“Long day. Very long,” was all she said.
“Same.”
Silence. I stared at the counter and she gazed at the shelves of alcohol behind the bar. Neither of us spoke until the bartender served us fresh whiskeys.
“I didn’t expect to run into you today,” Feyre commented after she’d taken another sip.
“The same could be said for me, as well. Uh, about you, I mean,” I added. I wasn’t making sense. But Feyre smiled a little. If my idiocy could make her happy, I’d gladly make an idiot of myself anytime she wanted.
“I was so--” she started.
“I’m glad you--” I fell silent.
“You first,” she conceded.
“I was going to say that I was glad to hear from you today. It’s been a while since we last talked. I mean, I haven’t really seen you since. . .”
“That night.” She bit her lip.
More silence. I was pretty sure I was going to die. The probability of our friendship surviving didn’t seem high at this point. I had just resolved myself to sitting there in an awkward quiet until one of us finished our drink when Feyre spoke.
“I thought you hated me,” she said quietly.
I almost gave myself whiplash turning to look at her face.
“You thought what?”
“You didn’t reach out after everything happened! I figured you hated me because of what Tamlin did to you. I broke the engagement off, by the way,” she added, flashing her bare wedding finger.
“I noticed.” Her brows rose but I plunged on. “And I don’t hate you. That’s crazy. I thought you hated me for being the reason you had to call the engagement off, or something. That’s why I kept waiting for you to take the initiative.”
Feyre rested her forehead on the bar in front of her. “Fuck,” she whispered. “I’m such an idiot.”
It was probably stupid, but I stretched out an arm and rested a hand on her back. “You’re not an idiot. We were both confused. Everything that happened that week was kind of crazy. Like something out of a movie. Not real life.”
She twisted a little to look at me from her position on the countertop. “You’re right. You’re right. I can’t believe we went this long without just working it out. I’m really. . .” She swallowed, chewing on her lip. “I’m really grateful to have you as a friend. And not just because our situations are similar.”
Warmth spread through my chest and I struggled to respond. “For my part, I’m really sorry, Feyre. I want to just forget everything that happened and start over.”
She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry too. For my part, and Tamlin’s. I hope we can go back to being friends-slash-single-parent-meeting-ditchers again. That would really make this crappy day just a little bit better.”
“I think that can be arranged,” I said softly.
Almost as if of its own accord, my hand started rubbing slowly up and down her back. I didn’t want her to feel like this, to look like this. Defeated, exhausted, hopeless. Turning to alcohol to help her feel better about her problems. I wanted to fix it. To make it all go away. Even if I was glad that it had brought her back to me in this little bar near the high school.
Feyre’s drink lay forgotten on the countertop as my hand continued its movements on her back. I moved my hand up and down to the slow rhythm of the love song currently playing softly in the bar. I’d be content to sit here and continue to do this until Feyre felt like she could get back up again.
I heard a throat clear loudly behind me.
“Rhys?”
I froze, my hand stopped midway down Feyre’s back.
“What a coincidence! I guess the universe just wants us to work out our differences,” Amy’s voice shattered the forgiveness and peace of the last ten minutes. I removed my hand from Feyre’s back, now tensed beneath my fingers, my renewed friend’s eyes now squeezed tightly shut. She looked like she was in pain.
“Amy. Hey. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
She glanced at Feyre, her lip curling as she did so. “Obviously not. Hello, Feyre. You’re the one with the darling children, correct?” She said the word “darling” as though she’d just swallowed something extremely sour.
“That’s me.”
I turned back around to find Feyre now sitting up, her back straightened, hair smoothed, and eyes bright. With irritation.
“Mmhm.” Amy returned her attention to me. “I’m so glad you’re here. I feel awful about whatever we were fighting about.” She took a step closer to me, so close I could feel the heat coming off her body, could smell her roses-and-wine scent. “Let’s make up.”
Before I could speak, she threw her arms around my shoulders, turning me in my barstool so that I faced her entirely, my back now to Feyre. Her lips crashed into mine, her tongue sliding between my lips a fraction of a second later. Startled, I sat there for a moment as she kissed me before I brought my hands up to rest on her hips. This was my girlfriend. The woman now sitting behind me was just a friend, even if I couldn’t stop thinking about Feyre as Amy’s lips moved on mine.
Amy’s nails scratched slightly at my neck almost at the same time she nipped at my lower lip with her teeth. I pulled back. “Ow.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” she simpered.
I turned around to say something to Feyre, anything to apologize for the makeout session she must have just witnessed. But her chair was empty and her whiskey glass lay abandoned on the countertop, only half drunk.
Cassian's heart pounded as he lied awake in bed. Whenever he closed his eyes, he remembered how soft her lips felt, even in those swift seconds. Or how the pull between them was so strong that he didn’t know how to break it. He didn't want to break it, he wanted to capture her lips, caress her cheeks, press every inch of her into him. Feel her, breathe her. Gods. He was in so deep.
He’s been with numerous women over the years. But none have captured him like Nesta. She was a blinding ray of light through a thunderstorm.
Nesta, her name is Nesta.
He wanted to say her name a thousand times until it drove him mad and he was sure it would.
Cassian closed his eyes, desperately trying to let sleep overcome him.
The first thing he noticed was the bone-chilling cold that seeped through his skin. He recognized this feeling, only having felt this stinging cold during the Germanic campaigns. The northern tribes drove them into the treacherous forests with mountains touching the heavens surrounding them.
But he was not in the mountains. Looking around at the empty streets, the empty vendor stalls, a loud wind sweeping through the empty buildings all clustered together. No, he was in Rome.
The silence was deafening as he walked through the moonlit bare streets. No one was seen. Just the cold making him shiver with every step. His breath was visible with every shaky exhale.
This was wrong. Rome was the center of everything-- all roads lead here. But now it was silent, like something wiped out the city in its peak. His feet, he realized, crunched above a thin layer of snow on the ground.
He spent the next ten minutes searching around the empty city. Nothing. Not a living thing was to be seen.
But somehow he knew where to go like something was pulling him into its direction.
Vesta's Temple, except in all the years he’s seen it, there was no sound of flickering flames. The circular building almost glittered like silver under the moon. Dolomite columns wrapped around, towering above Cassian as he stepped closer.
He descended carefully into the temple, before long he could hear faint footsteps. "Is anyone here?" His voice echoed throughout the halls. When he turned back to the rounded pavilion, there stood a cloaked figure.
“Hello?” He questioned but the cloaked figure didn’t budge. Cassian cautiously walked closer, feeling a familiar pull in the direction. It was almost as if his feet were levitating towards the figure. And when Cassian was right behind them, he knew who would turn around.
But this wasn’t Nesta.
In all physical appearance, it would be Nesta but her eyes were glowing deep purple like an ancient flame waiting to burst from within. And when it spoke it was not the soft melody he knew, it was full of sad anger.
Look what he has done. Cassian felt a deep shiver run down his spine as she spoke. Don’t let him take her. He will use her. The fall of Rome is his doing along with the fall of the gods.
"What? I don’t understand..." There was a shift in the atmosphere. The cold was now a growing fire within his skin.
Don’t be afraid of her strength-- it is not fire it is her warmth. Embrace it warrior, for she will rise anew in flames of gold. It’s time for a new era.
With that, she vanished in an intense flame, and Cassian awoke.
—
Nesta watched from her carriage as Rhysand and Helion exchanged pleasant goodbyes. Or what she thought were pleasant goodbyes. Helion, the ever playful and seductive host, was tense, his posture rigid. Rhysand didn't look any better. She watched as Helion's eyes drifted to her once again like he was studying her more than just a future bride. Nesta realized he was trying to see what the Emperor wanted to see in her. She wanted to tell him nothing lurked inside her except maybe a calm rage and very confusing thoughts. He looked back at Rhysand and nodded tersely before walking away.
She didn’t question what Rhysand spoke to Helion about. Though if it included her she supposed she should
But she was distracted as Cassian came into her view. Memories of last night replayed in her mind endlessly throughout her dreams. In some cases, they were never interrupted and she got lost in the way his hands explored her in every way.
He turned to face her through her glass windows. She swallowed, eyeing his hesitant step towards her.
She wouldn’t know what to say to him, about her confessing her name to him. It’s rare for anyone outside the Temple to know a priestess’ name. It is one of their bindings to their true selves, a reminder that they are human.
As if on queue, she could picture the head priestess standing before her now. Her fiery auburn hair blocked from the sun in her white veil. Nesta was momentarily taken back to when they were walking to the Vestas’s temple in Rome from gathering herbs from a nearby garden. On each side of them, stood 2 Roman guards.
She never got to walk through the streets of Rome, usually, it was veiled to her as she was carried in on a litter. From the corner of her eye she could see the head priestess’ nose scrunch up in disgust as they walked through town.
Nesta took in the kaleidoscope of colors from the different fruits and vegetables on the vendor stalls. The streets of Rome is a lively place, and Nesta hasn’t heard this much laughter since she was small. Children playing along in the streets, racing each other through the markets. Women chatter among themselves as they eye the various offerings. Merchants and vendors calling out their specialties of the day.
It wasn’t until Nesta felt a brush on her shoulder where time stood still. In a moment the cold hands of the head priestess seized her, pulling her tightly close as she watched the guards slam into a middle-aged man. Their hands holding his face to the ground. All sounds in the street died as they looked towards the scene.
“How dare you touch a priestess so freely.” She heard the head priestess' deadly tone from behind her.
The man had pure fear in his eyes, they were darting between the guards and her. “Please it was a misunderstanding I was just offering her-“
The head priestess spat in his face. “You can offer nothing to her. Guards give him 20 lashings.”
Nesta gasped and jerked out of the head priestess’ grasp. “No please, he didn’t mean it.” She pleaded but the head priestess ignored her and only nodded to the guards who raised their whips.
When Nesta ran to intercept, she was jerked back and her face raised towards the head priestess in a tight grip.
“You are to be pure in all aspects. Untouched, unspoken, unreachable by the commoners. You may all have the same blood but, my dear, you will never be like them.” Her words resonated through Nesta, blocking out the sounds of the man crying out in pain.
Her memory faded as she watched Rhysand interject Cassian, saying something to steer him away from her. Nesta fought the dejected feeling at the bottom of her stomach and gathered her senses before Rhysand climbed into the carriage.
-
The ride with Rhysand was a little uncomfortable. She noticed that he stared at her, studying her eyes like he knew her from somewhere. But Nesta has never seen this man since before that day on the beach. When she turned her head away from the window to catch him, he swiftly looked away.
“Is something wrong optione?” She asked, slightly starling him.
He cleared his throat “No priestess, I just thought... uh never mind.” She raised her eyebrows, surprised Rhysand stuttered.
“Do I remind you of someone?”
She could see Rhysand visibly swallow and he only nodded. Whoever she reminded him of left swirling emotions in his eyes, anger but mostly sadness. She didn’t press on about it.
The day dragged on as the roads led into dense forests. The blurring greens of her window seemed to repeat itself.
All of a sudden there was a jolt in the carriage, Rhysand looked tenser than before. He knocked on the carriage and a subsequent tapping from the other side must’ve meant Cassian was fine, we’re fine.
But then the carriage slowed down, Nesta tried to look ahead through her window and her eyes widening at the sight of another carriage, abandoned with visible blood stains from the outside. Rhysand saw the same thing and pounded against the carriage, almost yelling, “Cassian! Go, now!” But there was intense shuffling from outside, and Nesta heard the unsheathing of Cassian's sword.
“Priestess we have to get down now,” Rhysand said in a firm tone. Nesta caught a glimpse of Cassian being thrown on the ground outside but he quickly got up, blocking her window from the outside. Her shoulders were gripped by Rhysand from behind before being pulled to the floor, covering her mouth with a finger to his mouth. Shhh.
“Five against one? That’s hardly fair…” Cassian said smugly. Nesta’s breath hitched, he must be surrounded and trapped. When Rhysand saw her panicked face he only mouthed, He can handle this.
“Where’s the priestess?” One of the voices said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m delivering wine.”
“The Lord of Bloodshed is transporting wine in a senatorial carruca?” Another voice sneered, “we’re not fools you bastard.” He spat out the last word, she even saw Rhysand visibly tense.
“It’s very special wine.” Cassian retorted, Nesta could hear his tone shift. “Now I can let you go or you can stay to see how sharp my sword is.” He said sternly. She imagined they were circling him now.
Her heart was racing, she desperately wanted to look out but Rhysand would probably tackle her. He unlocked the doors on the other side and carefully opened it, gesturing towards it and reached out for her. She ignored it. Go help him she mouthed. His lips turned to a firm line.
However, a hooded figure appeared behind him, sword drawn already in the air for a blow to the optione. Rhysand sensed them before they could strike and with the quickest reflex, clashed against the figure with a distinct clink. He stood and pushed the hooded figure back with his sword who fell right onto his back.
This time he didn’t wait for Nesta’s permission as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the carriage.
“The priestess! He has her!” The man yelled.
Rhysand tried to drag her to the cover of the forest but a dozen men shrouded in dark clothing surrounded them. He shielded her with his sword drawn out, trying to swat away anyone who came near them. “Don’t you dare come closer.” He said through gritted teeth.
But he failed to grab her quickly enough before a pair of rough hands grabbed her from behind, pulling her away. Rhysand tried to get to her but the other men enclosed him like a pack of wolves.
The arm tightened around her waist, locking her arms and another around her shoulders. His greasy voice sent a shiver down her spine, “Stop squirming girl, or I’ll be forced to violate my contract.” Contract? And then Nesta watched how the men moved, how particular their swords were made of iron and bronze. These were more than petty thieves…
“You’ll be cursed for harming an unarmed Priestess.” She sneered over her shoulder catching the horrible glint in the man’s eye.
Rhysand tried to fend off the men, swirling about clashing with the swords but she was helpless as she watched one of them slashed across his thigh. His face retorted slightly with pain but he didn’t cry out. He grunted and pushed through the strings of attack.
“Stop it!” She screamed over her shoulder, but the man only smiled in delight as Rhysand struggled hopelessly outnumbered, Cassian nowhere in sight. Her blood started to boil, all her senses were heightened. Her heart was racing like thousands of horses on a battlefield. Without thinking, she swiftly knocked her head back where it made contact with the man who yelled out, “Bitch!” the arm around her waist loosened. She gained control of her arms again and tried to yank his other arm from around her shoulder. Her vision was blurring, but all she could focus on was the color of blood. The merchant crying out in pain, the screams in her visions, her dreams.
Nesta gripped the forearms of the man until he gasped and yelled. “Agh!” The man behind her screamed, pushing her on the ground before he stumbled back.
Then she felt Cassian before she saw him, moving like the wind right past her. A quick movement of his sword and Nesta knew the man was dead when he hit the ground beside her, his eyes lifeless.
Cassian knelt in front of her and she could see the blood that stained his armor. She knew it wasn’t his. His eyes blazed fire but it withered when he caught sight of her. Nesta was filled instantly with warmth and her heart calming itself. He reached out to see if she was wounded but she held out a hand to stop him.
“I’m fine. Go help Rhysand.” She whispered, her skin still felt hot.
“I already did.” He said lowly, and Nesta looked over her shoulder to see all the men slumped, dead. It must have been a dozen men... when did he-
Rhysand limped towards them. And came to a sudden stop when he looked at the man who held her captive.
“How did that happen?”
Cassian was looking at Nesta and she realized he never stopped looking at her. Something else flickered in his gaze. But he responded, “I don’t know.”
Nesta realized they weren’t talking about the attack but the man lying dead beside her. She looked at his corpse and gasped. His arms were the color of dark ash, the upper portions pink as his raw flesh was exposed.
“We have to leave quickly,” Rhysand said not taking his eyes off the corpse. Nesta sat on the ground in shock and continued to stare at the man.
“They cut the horses loose,” Cassian said and probably gestured towards the horseless carriage. “We’re stranded.”
“We need to get moving before they send any more assassins.”
Assassins. Nesta let the word sink into her head. “They didn’t want to hurt me.” She said, catching the attention of Cassian and Rhysand.
“What do you mean priestess?” Cassian asked, his tone was so soft. He didn’t call her Nesta. Rhysand was here but it still felt unnatural to hear from his lips.
“This man,” Nesta looked at the dark arms so charred, “he said he couldn’t hurt me because of his contract.”
Cassian's jaw tightened and he looked over to Rhysand. “We’re in Capua, do you think-“
“Yes the cottage is nearby, but we can’t stay there for long.” Rhysand grunted as he tried to move a bit. “It’ll be a good place to rest and make sense of…” he trailed off looking at Nesta still in shock.
“Right. Let’s go.” Cassian said rising from the floor when he offered a hand to her she refused and stood on shaky legs.
—-
Rhysand didn’t know what to think. The man's arms were almost charred black with distinct handprints on either side of his arms. When Rhysand touched his skin it was still burning as if he was dwindling tinder in a fire. He watched as the priestess walked ahead of him through the forests and only had one chilling thought.
The prophecy was true.
a/n: sorry for a nearly two month wait for this i-
