I’m sure your request list is lengthy, so feel free to get to this whenever you want, love!
I would love a fic w/ Rhys, Cass, or Az (take your pick, I love them all LOL) where he reacts to the reader having nipple piercings.
Thanks for all you do 🤍
“fuck, darling.” rhys hissed, his eyes sparkling with desire as they took in the two metal bars that slashed through your perfect nipples.
you smiled coyly, before giving him a shimmy of your shoulders to tease him. the silver flashed with the reflection of sunlight that poured through the windows of your shared bedroom, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight.
“you’re such a wicked thing…” he growled, his violet orbs catching your own as he spoke.
his eyes held nothing but lust, fiery lust for no one other than you. he was already looking forward to suckling on the freshly pierced nipples he adored so much every day for eternity, the thought causing his pants to tighten even more so.
“do you like them?” you asked after many moments of silence, watching nervously as your mate’s eyes stayed glued to the sliver bars complimented by the hue of your nipples.
his eyes glanced up at you once more, this time holding your gaze longer.
“i love them, darling. in fact,” his clenched jaw was then replaced with the very familiar coy smirk that you learned to feen over. “i can’t wait to see how sensitive these have become.”
you whimpered at the thought of rhysand playing with the overly sensitive buds, rolling them between his long fingers teasingly with a knowing smirk on his beautiful face. surely, he’s torture you with this new advantage from now on.
his long legs strode across the room to reach you, his previous spot in the doorway now empty and welcoming in nothingness as he walked away. his raven hair glimmered in the sunlight, blue hues highlighting the slicked back strands and causing your heart to pulsate.
he quickly noticed how nervous you’ve become, the sound of your rushing lustful thoughts and scent of your arousal clued him in. his smirk grew wider, but the comforting graze of his fingertips gently stroking your mind contrasted with his confidence.
you shuttered at the contact.
“oh, i am going to have so much fun with you, my little darling. cancel your plans for the week; you’re mine.”
PAIRINGS: Evangeline Nightbane x Lucien Vanserra (Currently), & Evangeline Nightbane x Cassian (Eventually)
CONTENT WARNING: MFW, mentions of trauma, mentions of abuse (via flashback)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is chapter 2 of Chaos, I'm so excited to fully jump into what happens next in the next chapter.
WORD COUNT: 2.6K
Prologue, Chp. 1
After our funtime Lucien and I returned to the dining room. Tamlin was discussing something with Lucien. He sat next to me and Lucien sat next to Tamlin. One of the servants had come to fetch us, informing us that Tamlin had requested our presence. Since Tamlin had arrived back home with Feyre by his side something felt different. I didn’t understand what it was but I had a feeling that she might be the one to save us, all of Prythian.
I held my hands in my lap after I’d finished my food. I did however look up when Feyre entered the dining room. Alis disappeared after helping her out, Feyre was wearing a dark blue tunic paired with a white shirt, and chestnut brown trousers. The colors did her well but they didn’t seem like the right pair of colors for Feyre. I knew that because I myself didn’t fit in Spring Court colors. I didn’t fit in Day Court colors either.
“Before you ask again: the food is safe to eat.” Tamlin’s voice ran through my ears, why would she think that the food wouldn’t be safe for her to eat. I discarded the thought and waited for Feyre to sit down at the table when Tamlin motioned towards a chair near the end of the table. He sighed when she didn’t move towards the seat. “What do you want, then?” The blond male went on to question.
“I told you so, Tamlin.” Lucien glanced towards Tamlin. “Your skills with females have definitely become rusty in recent decades.”
I stiffened slightly when Tamlin released a growl. No doubt Feyre didn’t see the way I had reacted to him, and I knew that she’d ask me about it later if we were alone. Sometimes I wondered why I stayed in the Spring Court. There were days where I didn’t feel safe around Tamlin. But I had nowhere else to go, he had offered me a home when I needed it most. My parents had stopped searching for me as far as I could tell though that fear remained sharp in my mind.
I knew one day soon they’d come for me. They punish me first, burn me, slap me, they’d do something to make sure I suffered for abandoning them. Then when they were satisfied with the treatment they’d handed me, they’d hand me over to Amarantha. I knew they’d have wicked smile’s on their lips when they handed me over to that vile woman. I am surprised they never handed me over when I was a small child.
Though I suppose they didn’t need to then, my powers weren't at full strength and by the time they were Amarantha had started her reign of terror over Prythian. I only had access to half my powers currently, I was deathly afraid of what would happen if Feyre did save us. The thought was enough to send me back into a nightmare of my own making.
I stood in front of my parents, my mom was in front of my dad. I could hear their thoughts loud and clear. I could see the look of hate that rested in their faces. I wish so badly that Helion was here to help me. He had been friends with them long before I came into the picture. But it seemed that I had turned them into hateful Fae.
“You have no right to talk to us like that, Evangeline.” My mother never used my nickname, my father didn’t explore that either. It was clear they hated me and I hated them.
“Ungrateful, child.” My father’s thoughts were pressing down on my mind and I couldn’t handle it. My mother’s were just as worse.
“Why do you have a right to call me ungrateful, or a bitch, or a waste of space? I don’t need to hear how much you hate me, or how much I disappoint you. You're my parents, you're supposed to love me.” Tears had started to fall down my face. Even if I wanted to stop them I couldn’t. I’d always been able to hear what they thought about me, how they didn’t actually love me. I truly disappointed them and it broke my heart everytime.
“You should be grateful, we’ve raised you. There is a roof over your head because of us, Evangeline.” This time it was my father’s voice that ran through my ears.
“How can I be grateful when you treat me like trash, how can I━” I was cut off with a slap to my face. I staggered back, hitting the counter behind me. My teary eyes landed on my mother as she looked at me through flamed eyes. I’d never seen her this way. Well, I’d seen what she’d done when I stepped out of line so this wasn’t the first bruise I had on my body. It certainly wouldn’t be the last either.
“Go to the cellar now.” Her voice was stern, cold, and very calculated as she ordered me what to do. I didn’t like to go in the cellar, it was small and cramped and as I got older I could barely fit in it. It was supposed to be used for storing food but instead that was where they put me when I would get in trouble. I shook my head, not so much defying her. I really didn’t want to step foot in there.
“No.” I squeaked, still shaking my head. I didn’t have a chance to say anything more. Both my mother and father gripped my arms and dragged me out of the kitchen. I started to throw myself around screaming out.
“You will stay there for a week.” My mother said, I still didn’t want to go.
“Please. I don’t like it there. It’s lonely, and cold, and scary.” I couldn’t hold the words as they slipped past my lips.
“Too bad, a child like you needs to be shown how to act. If you can't treat us with respect then you deserve to be in the cellar.” Father’s voice could be scary at times and right now I didn’t like the way he sounded.
“Please.” I cried out again. But they ignored me, we made it outside and they threw me into the cellar locking the door back up so I couldn't get out. I turned on the ground and stared up at the door. There was no light shining through the wood, it was nighttime. The best time that they’d normally shove me in here.
“Evie?” A voice called out to me. I couldn’t see much, everything was gone. It was like I was still in that nightmare. How long had I been stuck in my head? “Evie?” That voice, I knew that voice. Finally everything started to come back to view as my waking nightmare disappeared from my mind. Lucien was kneeling in front of me.
I glanced around the room, Tamlin had a look of concern on his face just as Lucien did. It looked like Feyre had finally sat down to eat something. Good she needed to eat something, she looked far to skinny to not be eating anything. Lucien gently cupped my cheek, I was still in panic mode but I was calming down.
“I’m okay.” I whispered, a tear or two slipping down my face. His thumb wiped the tears away. My hand found its way to his wrist and I grasped it. I wondered then if Lucien were my mate. I hoped he was. I really enjoyed his company, and he was able to help me through whatever nightmare happened. But as much as I hoped for him to be my mate, there was something missing from what we had. “I’m going to head to bed early.”
I removed Lucien’s hand from my face and gave him a peck on his lips. Then I picked myself up, bowed to Tamlin. I don’t think I needed to do that but I knew it gave him a bit of an ego boost and sometimes he needed it. Then I looked at Feyre. She was staring at me with an understanding in her eyes. I didn’t know if I should be comforted by that fact or if I could be concerned that she might have a sense of understanding. So I walked up to her.
“If you wish to walk the grounds, I’m more than happy to join you.” I said, loud enough for Lucien and Tamlin to hear me. However before she could respond to me I left the dining room. I felt the door close behind me and when it did I pushed myself against the wall listening in on their conversation to see what they might say to Feyre, if they’d say anything at all.
“Is she going to be okay?” Feyre’s voice was soft and filled with concern as she asked the question.
“Eventually.” Tamlin said.
“Evie’s had a rough life, she’s still healing from the things her parents did to her.” Lucien only knew certain things about my parents. So did Tamlin. I never outright expressed things about them. They didn’t know how much pain my parents had put me through until I left them in the dust and landed in the Spring Court. Before I could hear anymore of the conversation I finally took off heading towards my shared room with Lucien.
───── ☾☾☾ ─────
He stood in front of me, a soft smile on his face. Hazel's eyes so bright. Red siphons shining just as bright. His hair blew against the gentle breeze as he held his siphoned hand out to me. His wings were stretched out behind him. I wanted to know everything about who he was, about who he was to me and why I’d been seeing him constantly. I gripped his hand, returning the smile.
Slowly I opened my eyes. Lucien had his arms wrapped around my waist, and the sudden need to break free from his grip was a lot stronger. Gently I removed myself from his grasp. I should stay in our room, but I needed some air. I could escape to the garden for a little bit, or at least until Lucien came searching for me. I hadn’t told him I was seeing another male in my dreams.
I didn’t even know who the male was, but he was important to me. That much was clear, maybe that was why I had started to feel the way I felt towards Lucien. I truly loved the red haired male, but not in a romantic way. More platonic, I think. I think secretly that Lucien knew that too he was just afraid to admit it. Honestly I was too. If we both admitted what we think we knew, we’d have to end the relationship.
If we were both truly mated to someone else neither of us could continue the relationship we currently had. It was fun, the sex was great but there was something missing, I knew it. With these dreams of the hazel eyed male I knew that much was true. I sat down in the grass when I realized that I had finally made it outside. I looked up at the night sky taking in the stars that shined brightly.
I really wanted to know who this male was. I wanted to see more of him. I wanted to hear his voice, his laugh, his moans, I wanted all of it. And I hated myself so much for feeling like I was betraying a male I barely knew for Lucien. I sighed in defeat and fell down to the grass. I needed to change my thoughts to something else. I fell backwards onto the grass and stared up at the sky, the stars shining brightly tonight.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” A voice ran through my body. How did he know I was up? I pulled my eyes away from the stars and looked back at Tamlin, he was upside down so I turned around to lay on my stomach, placing my hand underneath my chin so I could hold it up.
“I couldn’t sleep.” That wasn’t a lie, it was the truth. I really couldn’t sleep, but not because of what he thought might be bothering me. I was instead thinking about another male. Tamlin stayed earthly still in his spot.
“Another nightmare?” He asked cautiously. Which rightfully so, the last time we’d talked about my nightmares I had thrown him through a portal into a tree. He was pissed to say the least but he understood my need to not talk about my nightmares. Well, he learnt it after that situation happened.
“Yes.” I lied, lowering my head to the grass shortly after. Those hazel eyes found their way back into my mind. Finally I looked back up at Tamlin. He’d been waiting patiently for me to say something else. “Do you think Lucien’s my mate?” This question wasn’t out of the norm for me to ask, as I brought it up here and there over the last 49 years. And I knew that Tamlin would answer the same way he always had since I’d first asked the question.
“It’s very possible for the two of you to be mated to each other. You just need to give it time. These don’t happen overnight.” Like I said, the same scripted answer every time I ask it.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I picked myself up from the grass and started to walk past Tamlin, however his hand gripped my arm.
“Why do you keep bringing this up?” Tamlin’s voice was rough as he asked the question, I could feel his claws breaking out and into my skin. A soft whimper left my throat at the pain. Clearly he was frustrated that I was questioning what his friend and I had. But I had every right too, there was no bond between me and Lucien. I knew that much. It was with another male and I had no idea how to get to him.
“It’s nothing Tam.” I knew he didn’t believe that.
“It’s not nothing, something is bothering you, for to continuously ask this question.”
And he was right, there was no denying that. But I couldn’t tell him about the male I’d been seeing in my dreams. I couldn’t let that slip that I didn’t belong to Lucien, but that I belonged to someone other male. But I guess that was my luck, to be stuck to another male I didn’t know. Wherever he was, I was hoping that he was searching for me.
I pulled my arm away from Tamlin and glared at him. “Whatever is bothering me is none of your concern, my nightmares or dreams are not your concern. Stop asking me why I keep bringing this up.” Before I could give Tamlin a chance to reply to me I walked back towards the mansion. Heading straight for my bedroom. I closed the door and climbed back into bed. But I stared off at the moon as it started to drift away.
I needed answers. I needed them now before Tamling got in the way of what I needed to know. I had a slight feeling that there was only one I could get answers from. I’d need to find a way to contact Rhysand. He’d continuously stopped in over the last few years but he never sent nothing more than a “hi” my way. I knew what he could do, so maybe that would help me narrow down who this male was. That was my new quest.
Summary: Evelyn faces the aftermath of the run in with the King of Hybern. Azriel confuses her further but she shares a rare pleasant moment with her eldest sister.
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: Chronic disability/pain, cussing, mentions of drowning, fluff???? if you can call it that
Notes: this chapter perfectly aligns with my reality of having a disability. in exactly one month (30 days, 31 minutes, and 10ish seconds), i’ll be having the third of four reconstructive surgeries to hopefully minimize my pain and prevent me from needing hip replacements. the reality is - i will always be disabled and i will always have pain, but the hope and acceptance is the important bit. for evelyn’s sake, i don’t want to put her through my reality anymore. so while unrealistic, we can all dream can’t we? isn’t that the point of fanfiction? 💜
Previous Chapter: Chapter Seven
Next Chapter: Chapter Nine
My Masterlist
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I woke up with a gasp. I tried to bolt up into a sitting position, but a heavy feeling on my back tugged me back down to the bed. I glanced around frantically, trying to figure out where I was, but nothing looked familiar. I began to panic, wondering what was preventing me from sitting. Was I tied down? Was it some sort of magic?
For a moment, I thought I was still trapped in that castle and that the suffering hadn’t ended. My eyes darted around to look for my sisters, were they here too?
I finally registered Cassian, asleep in the chair next to me and I left out a breath of relief. His wings looked much better than I remembered. The fibrous membrane had begun to heal and there were no tears. I cringed as his screams flashed in my head.
I remembered his body, covered in blood, laying on the floor next to Azriel - Azriel. Was he okay too? Where was he? How did we get here? My head swam with worry over these unanswered questions and the fates of everyone else who had been trapped in that throne room with me.
“Cassian?” I rasped, my voice sounding unfamiliar in my throat.
His eyes snapped open. “Evelyn?! Are you alright? How do you feel?” He leaned forward quickly and took one of my hands. It was… sweet. And not a gesture I expected from the Illyrian general.
I squeezed his hand a bit and tried to sit up again, but that same weight held me back. I craned my neck around to see what was keeping me pressed tight against the bed and my draw dropped. I tried to make a sound but none would come out.
Attached to my back, sprouting from my shoulder blade, were massive, beautiful wings.
They were exactly like Cassian and Azriel’s, albeit smaller, with a delicate membrane and strong muscles outlining them. There was one major difference between those dark red and gray Illyrian wings and the ones I now had.
Where Cassian and Azriel’s wings were dark gray and red when held to the light, the ones now protruding from my back were pure white. They almost looked alive as the sunlight shifted over them - almost like they were made of starlight. I could only stare, my mouth hanging wide open.
They looked just like the wings I had thought of and admired that stood so proudly behind Azriel. The wings I had stared at as I was pushed under that water. The image of the once invincible Shadowsinger reduced to a bloody mess and his strong, impressive wings simply sagging behind him… I had let Cassian’s torn wings and Azriel’s limp ones fuel my decision to sacrifice myself next. I had hoped maybe prevent Nesta from suffering the same fate that Elain and I had and give them time to get out. Maybe… maybe the Cauldron had given me these because of that?
“Oh uh, those,” Cassian said awkwardly, snapping my attention back to him. He was rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he said, “Those have been coming and going since you came out of the Cauldron.”
Coming and going? Does that mean that I can… get rid of them?
“How long has it been since-” my breath hitched, I couldn’t think about what had happened while I’d been out. I didn’t want to ask those kinds of questions yet and I don’t think I wanted any of the answers.
“I, uh, do you know how I can get rid of them? I’m not sure how you Illyrians do it if these things are so heavy.” I forced out a chuckle, trying to joke with him and break some of the tension from my unfinished question.
“A month. A damn long month if you ask me. We’ve been taking shifts sitting with you until you woke up,” Cassian said. “As for… getting rid of them - I’m not sure. Just try… focusing? I’m not even sure if you can, but it’s worth a shot.”
I took a few deep breaths and focused on where I could feel the fibrous membrane meet my back. I pictured my back without the wings attached - smooth skin and muscle with nothing else. Please, I willed, though to who, I don’t know. This was something I wanted to control. No, something I needed to control. I lost all control the second my sisters and I were taken from our home. I couldn’t control Azriel and Cassian being hurt. I couldn’t control Elain being shoved into that Cauldron. I definitely couldn’t control what happened between me going into the Cauldron and now. So this… This I had to be able to master. To get rid of these… wings… so I could put off thinking about them. I just wanted to put off thinking about all of it.
Sure enough, quicker than I could blink, they were gone.
I was about to ask Cassian another question when the door slammed open.
“Cass, what-” Azriel’s eyes met mine. “Evelyn.” He breathed my name like a prayer.
He looked like a god. He was absolutely feral - his hair was sticking up as if he had run his hands through it a million times before coming here. Shadows swirled frantically around his shoulders and on the floor near his feet. If only I were Feyre and could paint this moment to immortalize how ethereal and magnificent he looked… He was wearing his fighting leathers, the gems on them shone bright blue as if they were going to burst at any second. The one on his chest rose rapidly to accommodate his heavy breathing, the pace so intense it seemed like he had either run a marathon or just gotten out of a battle. I almost wondered if he had. His eyes were burning into mine and I wondered what this past month had been like for him… What has he been doing? Was he… worried about me?
His eyes were crazed until they scanned over me, then softened. I’m sure between Nesta, Elain, and I, the Shadowsinger had had his fill of worry and stress while managing the consequences of what happened in that castle.
I noted the bandages wrapped around his chest and frowned. They were a painful reminder of everything that had happened.
Cassian gave him a nod and moved past him to slip out of the door. I assumed he was going to tell the others that I had finally woken up, but I couldn’t get myself to care. Not when this handsome Illyrian male was standing in the doorway looking as if I had just come back from the dead. As if the faerie Mother had just plopped me down in front of him. Maybe he really had been worried about me.
“Azriel,” I croaked, but as I tried to sit up and move to him, I burst into tears.
In a second, Azriel was next to me. He crouched before me and scanned my body to see what was wrong. If it wasn’t for the tears blurring my vision, I would have swooned at having this handsome faerie on his knees in front of me. When he realized there were no obvious wounds, he slowly sat on the bed next to me.
He hesitantly wrapped an arm around my shoulder and his wings spread out behind us on the bed. I didn’t have the strength to tell him how much that small act of comfort meant to me, especially when I knew he wasn’t exactly… known for being comforting or vulnerable.
I leaned my head on Azriel’s shoulder and cried. I tried to slow my breathing and stop my tears but… I couldn’t. This was- this was way too crazy.
“What- what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He seemed uncomfortable but something else simmered beneath his concern - barely disguised fury and anguish.
“No, Azriel. I- I don’t hurt.” I managed between sobs, a smile slowly spreading across my face.
He looked confused and I realized how deranged I must sound. Here I was, having returned from the brink of death, crying and laughing about not being in pain.
He just stared at me as his face slightly scrunched, still considering what I had said. Until it dawned on him and he stiffened.
For the past 21 years of my life, I had spent every day, every hour, every second in some varying degree of pain. And now, sitting here… My bones lacked the ache I had been forced to grow used to. My joints didn’t painfully shift against each other with every move I made. Even my muscles felt like a well-oiled machine as they smoothly and efficiently worked to move various parts of my body. I was… free.
Azriel pulled me tighter against him for a moment, nodding in understanding. He gave a hesitant squeeze to the shoulder his hand was resting on. I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and turned to thank him but in a second, he was across the room. I glanced at him, confused. Had I done something?
Then Nesta ran into the room and I understood. He wanted Nesta and me to have our moment or… he didn’t want to be seen with me. I shook my head, my emotions too raw to allow myself to consider the latter was the case.
Nesta stood in the doorway, much like Azriel had not too long before. “Eve,” she said, softly. I glanced at Azriel but he was already gone.
Nesta launched herself at me and we collided full force as she slammed me back on the bed, landing with her on top of me. She hugged me as tightly as she could and I realized with a start that if I hadn’t also become High Fae she would have cracked my ribs. I just smiled and hugged her tightly in return.
“I- you weren’t waking up,” I squeezed her tighter, unsure what to say. “You weren’t waking up,” she repeated, and I felt her sobs as she clung to me.
I rubbed her back, “I’m awake. I’m okay.” I continued to repeat until her cries stopped.
She finally climbed off of me and we sat together on the bed.
It took me a minute to fully catalog the changes my sister had gone through. Her already stoic and sharp features were incredibly sharper and more defined. Her ears poked through her blonde hair and her eyes held a depth that they hadn’t previously had. Her fingers were longer, more slender and she seemed to carry herself… differently.
She seemed to be studying me the same way. I wondered if she had seen the wings that Cassian said had appeared and disappeared while I was unconscious. I wondered if she… detested me the way she hated the Fae when we were growing up. I wondered what she saw in my own features… what seemed different about me. Mostly, I wondered how much this past month had taken out of her and if she was okay. But if she was Fae… clearly my idea to buy them time and save Nesta from this hadn’t worked.
“Nes,” I breathed, filling the silence between us, “I… I’m so sorry. I thought that by volunteering myself… I could- I could give you all some time to think of a way out. I didn’t, I never wanted this to happen to you.”
She took a deep breath. “Evelyn, you are the stupidest woman I have ever known. The bravest, but the stupidest nonetheless. I never, NEVER want you to even consider sacrificing yourself for me ever again.”
“No promises,” I grinned. “Who knows when the next time we’ll be kidnapped and turned into Fae will be? Can’t prepare for everything,” I shrugged at the last part.
For a moment, I thought she was gonna hit me, but then her features softened and we both broke into a fit of giggles. One look at Nesta’s face told me she hadn’t as much as smiled since everything had happened and I could tell she was relieved to even have this small taste of joy. Seeing her like this lifted my spirits a bit. I knew we had a lot to address and I had a lot to hear about what happened, but suddenly a thought popped into my head.
“Where’s Elain?”
She straightened suddenly, any softness she held before now gone. “Why don’t you… take a moment? Take a bath, get dressed, and then… We can go see Elain,” she said, clearly frustrated.
“Alright…?” I answered her. She nodded, more to herself than to me, and stood up. I could tell she was reprimanding herself for forgetting about the situation we were in.
“I’m so relieved you’re alright, Eve. I was so worried- worried we had lost you.”
“I love you, Nesta.”
Based on my eldest sister’s expression, she was just as surprised as I was to hear the words tumble past my lips. This was foreign territory to us, we knew we loved each other but my sisters and I never spoke those words aloud.
She turned to leave, pausing at the door. “I love you too, Evelyn,” she said so faintly, that I’m sure whatever new Fae hearing I had was the only reason I noticed it. She left, closing the door behind her.
I was alone.
I flopped backward on the bed, spreading my limbs like a starfish and letting out a huff of breath as my body hit the mattress. I stretched my limbs as far as I could, relishing in the feeling of strength coursing through them.
I stared at the ceiling, my mind doing its best to recollect exactly what had happened in that cursed throne room. I replayed the events in my head, all the way up until I was poured out of the Cauldron, and then… Nothing. I couldn’t remember a single thing between then and now. No dreams I had while I was asleep or how we had escaped.
I sighed. Sitting here wallowing isn’t going to help, I thought.
With a groan, I rolled myself over until my feet hit the floor and I was bent over the bed. Subconsciously, I braced for the jolt of pain I knew would come as I stood to my full height and my weight was centered on my hips - but it never came. I stared down at myself, waiting for it, like some sort of sick cosmic joke. And still, it didn’t hurt.
I smiled. Really smiled, none of the false pretenses from joking with Cassian or Nesta, then let loose a laugh. It was the purest laugh I had ever heard come out of my body.
I went to take a step towards what I guess was the bathing room and promptly fell on my ass. I only laughed harder.
For the second time that day, the door slammed open and Azriel had panic in his eyes. He took in the sight of me, sprawled on the ground, laughing so hard I thought my stomach would collapse.
The slightest smile graced his tan face as he moved to help me to my feet. “Are you okay?” His deep voice rumbled.
I just laughed again, “Apparently, I’m going to have to learn to walk again. Like a babe.”
He shook his head in amusement and let go of my arm, sensing I was steady enough to stand on my own.
“How exactly do you faeries deal with this? I feel like every single one of my senses is in overdrive. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to walking without it hurting,” I smiled.
He didn’t. A frown crossed his face and he murmured, “No more pain.”
I felt his words in my chest just as clearly as if he had shot an arrow through my heart. I looked at the bandages still covering his chest and reached out a hand, gently pressing it against his heart.
“No more pain” I whispered.
“Are you okay,” I asked, raising my eyes up from his bandages to his face.
Azriel’s expression had hardened and I couldn’t read what he was thinking now. His hand reached up to grab my own, slowly pulling it from his chest, but not releasing it. Instead, he held it in front of him and examined it like it was a precious jewel he had just discovered. “I am now.”
I could have died. I would have dropped dead right there if it wasn’t for the way his eyes snapped up and a look of awe overtook his features. I stumbled a bit as that heavy weight was once again on my back. I once again looked over my shoulder to the wings that were now situated there and frowned, “Whoops.”
Azriel just stared. His eyes traced over my wings, my face, my body, and I felt as if I were standing naked in front of him. “They suit you,” he said quietly.
“I- thank you. Though I’m not sure what I’m meant to do with them or why I even have them. And they make it very difficult to balance, as if I wasn’t having a hard enough time already,” I pouted.
He looked as if he was going to say something, but his gaze turned steely. “I’ll leave you to rest,” he said and was out of the room before I could say anything.
What in the ever-loving hell was his problem?! Maybe I had crossed a line or maybe I was misreading things? No, there was no reason for him to take such a sudden exit other than to get far, far away from me.
I stumbled again as I went to take an angry step towards the bathroom, but caught myself before I could fall. These damned wings.
I again took a few deep breaths, willing them to disappear, to get off of me, and leave me alone so I could walk. They obliged. I sighed in relief and took careful steps to the bathing room, getting used to how it felt to walk with my new Fae limbs.
I made it to the counter and looked at myself in the mirror.
Wow.
My blonde hair, the same as all of my sisters, almost seemed to glow and looked fuller and healthier than before. My ears, just like Nesta’s, stuck out with a pointed tip from my golden locks. My eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t place. My face had also elongated a bit and my features had sharpened like I had always looked at myself underwater and now I was seeing without the fog and muck. I looked beautiful and positively… Fae.
I reached up a hand to feel my face and let out a small breath. It felt like every single one of my nerves was sending singles to my brain. Every brush of my fingertips against my face felt like a million brushes. I could feel every pore, every dip as I ran my hands over my new face. I placed a hand on the counter and could have hissed from the cool feeling of the metal. I hadn’t noticed how heightened everything had been while I was caught up with… well, everything. Azriel, Nesta, wings. How in the world am I supposed to get used to this?
I pulled myself away from the counter and towards the bathtub. I undid my clothes and trailed my eyes down my new figure. The perceived imperfections were gone, but I was still definitely in a different form than my sisters. My legs seemed to thrum with new strength and power. I fought the urge to get out of whatever house we were in and run, just to see how far I could now go.
The tub began filling on its own, confirming my suspicions that wherever I was was located in Prythian. I slowly stepped into the water, grimacing a bit at the foreign feeling of it against my skin, but eased down into the tub. I let out a sinful moan at the feeling of the warm water as it rushed around me. I began to wash myself but as I dipped under to wash my hair, images of the Cauldron filled my mind.
Suddenly, I was back there. I could feel its magic surrounding me, suffocating me. I tried to scream but water and smoked filled my lungs. I broke the surface of the water of the tub I was in and threw myself out of it, onto the floor.
I gasped as I tried to keep from sobbing. I sat there for a while, naked and panting on the ground while holding my bent legs close to my chest. I willed myself to calm down and take slower breaths. Eventually, I was able to breathe normally and the tension was released from my body.
I stood up slowly, dried myself off, and got dressed. I had the choice between several dresses that were somehow present in the dresser or a casual pair of pants and a sweater. I chose the latter, unsure if I felt up for getting all dressed up. The clothes felt awkward and new against my skin, whether that’s a continuation of the new sensations or the fabric of the clothes themself being unfamiliar to me, who knows?
I took a deep breath and paced the room a couple of times. I had a lot to learn and a lot of questions that needed answers. First things first, I wanted to see Elain.
I placed my hand on the doorknob, still marveling at the way my fingers gracefully wrapped around it. I took one more breath, centering myself, and opened my door to face whatever my new reality was.
Premise: Feyre gets a flu shot and Rhys is the doctor :))
TW: mentions and kinda describing? of needles
AAA SO I HAVEN'T POSTED A FIC IN A LONG TIME BUT HERE I AM!! Enjoy lovelies <33
Goddamnit how could I be so stupid?
This was a question that Feyre asked herself many times, but this time she really meant it. Today was her appointment for her flu shot.
Her parents who were now dead hadn’t even bothered to come when she was younger, so she and her sisters had to go get the shots themselves.
She had partied all night with her friends Mor and Lucien, celebrating surviving the fucking week. She hadn’t had that much fun in a really long time, but the aftermath was not fun at all.
She had woken tangled with Mor and Lucien, a pounding headache, and she could feel her pulse in her right eyelid. Just fucking great. She managed to disentangle herself from the two and padded toward the kitchen.
It was while she was getting some milk for her coffee that she saw the post-it note on the fridge door:
Flu Shot appointment on Nov 11 at 3 pm DON’T BE LATE FEYRE OML- Past Feyre
Feyre scrambled to find her watch; it was the first thing she had bought when she left Tamlin. It reminded her that time was hers now, that she could do whatever she wanted in the day now that she was finally free from that asshole.
2:00 pm.
Shit fucking shit-.
Feyre scrambled as she tried to shower and dress quickly, shrugging on some sweats and a random t-shirt that probably smelled like shit. Oh well, she thought, it's better than nothing.
She could hear Mor and Lucien groaning as they were beginning to wake, so Feyre put some Advil and water on her side table for them and rushed out the door.
It was 2:20 by the time Feyre was out the door, the wind biting around her skin. She had forgotten to check the weather and was severely underdressed. She could feel the pedestrians staring at her, some of them with admiration. She snorted and walked on in the chilly November air, praying to god that she would get to her appointment on time.
*~*
Feyre barely made it to her appointment.
It was 2:58 and the receptionist was glaring daggers at her but led a huffing Feyre to the room where she was to wait from the doctor. She sank onto the stool, noticing it was a bit wobbly. She tried to even out her breath. Just because she had started training after leaving Tamlin, it didn’t mean her legs were used to running non-stop. She made a mental note to talk to trainer Cassian about running.
She checked her found, and found millions of messages from Mor and Lucien, asking where the hell she was. Getting a Flu-Shot she replied, and their group chat exploded with needle and random emojis and Feyre rolled her eyes. She loved her friends.
As she was putting her phone in her pocket when the door opened, and a man she presumed started talking.
“Hello- “
Feyre’s stool broke the minute their eyes met. She fell to the floor, the cheap IKEA stool falling apart. It was kind of ironic that the stool collapsing could perfectly capture where her mind was the minute she saw the doctor's face.
She felt the pain shooting up her legs a second later, and she hissed. Tiles were not the ideal floor to fall on. She could feel her cheeks flaming.
He was all high cheekbones and strong jaw, with inky blue hair and gods those made Feyre’s knees weak. Well, weaker than they were from the fall. They were an impossible violet, like a night sky, calm and quiet.
His smirk, however, did not radiate calm in quiet. The feelings that aroused from Feyre were neither calm nor quiet as well. It aroused annoyance.
She scowled and purposefully ignored the hand the doctor had held out; she didn’t need the prick's help. She didn’t need anyone’s help.
“Well, I’ve never had a patient fall for me.” The man said in a voice as smooth as silk. Bastard.
“I’ve never had a doctor be so rude to their patients. Where is Doctor Nuit? She’s my usual doctor.” Feyre replied, her voice full of annoyance and a hint of curiosity. Doctor Nuit was her usual doctor, why wasn’t she here?
The man’s face instantly crumpled for a split second before he recomposed himself. Feyre wondered if she imagined his face looking sad, the impossible white flecks in his eyes, like stars, winking out.
“Dr. Nuit was my mother, but she passed away one year ago.” He said it in a polite monotone, but Feyre could see the sadness in his eyes. She wanted to hold his hand, hug him, do something to make him feel better, but she didn’t know what.
“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, I can relate, both my parents died some time ago.” She didn’t know why she said the last bit, that was something she kept close and guarded. But this man was loosening her heart up bit by bit, and she didn’t know if she liked or hated it. Probably like hate.
“I’m sorry to hear that Ms. Archeron.” She suppressed a shiver at the way his voice curled around her last name. Damn this prick/doctor was driving Feyre mad.
“Feyre. Feyre Archeron.” She blurted out, and mentally cursed herself.
Dr. Nuit smiled and responded with “Rhysand. Rhysand Nuit. But my friends call me Rhys.” Rhysand. That name fit him. He was li-
JUST GET THE FLU SHOT FEYRE, she told herself. All she was here for was a flu shot. Simple.
“Now can we get on with the doctoring stuff? I have stuff to do.” Feyre added impatiently. Admittedly she did not, but he didn’t have to know that.
Rhysand chuckled and started preparing the needle.
Feyre didn’t mind needles; she has iron deficiency, so the frequent blood tests made her indifferent to them.
“Left or right arm?” he asked, his voice pulling Feyre out of her thoughts. His voice was smoo-
Um. What?
“Left or right arm? For the flu shot.” Shit. She must have said that aloud as well as in her mind. Damn this man.
“Left,” Feyre replied curtly, but Dr. Nuit kept on staring at her like there was something else she had to say.
“What?” she responded, her voice clipped.
“Now darling, shouldn’t you say please? We must maintain our manners.” He impossible purred, his voice dripping with humour.
Feyre was dripping with annoyance for this prick.
“First of all, don’t call me darling. Secondly, I’m paying for this shot even though it really should be free, so, no I do not need to say please.”
She had been told to say please too many times with Tamlin, told to be grateful for what he had given her and if she ever felt unhappy, she would be called “ungrateful” by him. Dr. Nuit may mean no harm, but she was done playing the doll.
Surprisingly Dr. Nuit saw that something was wrong, that what he had said had struck a chord. She expected that silence that everyone gave, that reminded her too much of her time in Tamlin’s manor. The silence was deafening.
“That’s all-right darling, but that means you won’t get a Cars 2 Band-Aid.” He shrugged. He wasn’t silent. A quiet laugh bubbled out of Feyre, unexpected to both of them. He smiled a warm, true smile, not the usual smirk.
He began the process of disinfecting the area, getting cotton pads, and a Band-Aid. He gently rolled her sleeve a bit up, and she shivered internally. Fuck.
“This ok?” he asked, voice a bit breathy.
“Yes.” She replied, her voice breathier than she liked.
She felt him put in the needle, but she couldn’t stop watching him. She studied his features, his strong jaw, a nose that from far looked straight but, looked like it had taken a few blows. His high and sweeping cheekbones, and those eyes. Gods those eyes. Just like the night sky.
“All done.” He said but didn’t move away. Neither did Feyre. He looked at her lips and then back up at her eyes, a blush tinging on his cheeks.
Oh, hell with it
Feyre kissed him.
She surged toward him, kissing a surprised but pleased Rhys. Before they could take it any further she pulled away and hopped off the bed.
“If you want a real kiss, you’ll have to take me on a proper date first.” She said nonchalantly, but there was a nervousness buzzing under her.
He chuckled, before replying with “Of course darling. Next time you won’t be able to think of anything else.”
“We’ll see.” She responded, and left the room, a smile tugging at her lips.
*~*
It was when Feyre went to take the Band-Aid off when she was about to go to bed that she realized it was a Cars 2 Band-Aid, with a phone number on it. Rhysand’s number.
She smiled and went to get her phone to dial the number.
Baby, this love, I'll never let it die
Can't be touched by no one
I'd like to see 'em try
I'm a mad man for your touch, girl, I've lost control
I'm gonna make this last forever, don't tell me it's impossible
I’m just gonna say it. This is to rhys antis that like nesta.
Y’all are gonna pick out every little thing rhys has done and then fly by ur character as if she didn’t fuck up multiple times herself. Y’all nit pick every slightly problematic thing about him and then brush off her big problematic behaviours as, “pretty white woman sad have trauma”😢
Like yeah call him out on his bad, but don’t start creating problems out of nowhere to make him look worse in front of ur character.
go ahead call me an apologist, call me stupid and sexist and a misogynist. But then let your character get away with bad things because “that’s just how she is” y’all talk about us being hypocritical and then proceed to be hypocritical.
Get with the middle ground that both Rhys and nesta are problematic. Now if someone wants to like a Character regardless. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO MAKE THEM FEEL BAD FOR NOT LIKING UR CHARACTER. If they’re being hypocritical in their argument about the problematic behaviour specifically.. go the fuck ahead. but if they just dislike ur character for their personality, it doesn’t make them a godamn misogynist.
Im a real fucking person. Treat me like one. Move the fuck on. Stop pointing fingers at my morality for a fucking book character.
I don’t currently bash nestas for the wrongs shes done cuz I’m past that shit. I’m just so fucking baffled that people claim to have a hot take at calling out “abuse” but then let it slip as if it’s no big deal when it comes to their fav.
Talk about how Rhys stans do this, and they all do that.. WHEN YALL DO THE SAME THING. Fuck off bro I’m tired. If ur gonna be as sensitive as cassians wings about every little thing that happens, these books are not for you.
