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[rey-in-red]

AO3 Etiquette

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

Kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished - you kudos.

If you liked it, you should comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it. Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity. Don't ruin that for them.

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLANTONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an implicit rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Avoid deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - orphan it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to you anymore.

This is a creative fanfiction archive. No essays on your insights or theories please. There are other places for that.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

[rey-in-red]

Elain did a thing

Note: This is the first thing I have been able to write in 6 months. I have no idea where the idea came from, but here it is. Enjoy.

---

She marched into the room.

“I did a thing.” 

Nesta looked up from her curled up position in the plush red chair.

“What?” she encouraged her to continue, looking up at her younger sister. 

Not quite sure how to tell her sister what she had done, Elain simply lifted up her shirt and flashed her boobs to her older sister.

Nesta rose from the chair slowly, the book in her lap falling to the floor, completely forgotten. 

Without saying anything to Elain, Nesta simply screamed, “FEYRE!”

Hurried steps sounded in the hallway and the youngest Archeron came running into the living room of the apartment Nesta and Feyre shared. Feyre was panting from her short run, her head moving in all directions trying to locate what had caused Nesta’s outburst. “What’s happening? Where’s the fire?”

Nesta just gestured toward Elain’s chest, thinking it would explain everything. Which it did.

Her jaw proceeded to drop when she finally spotted the two metal barbells going through each of Elain’s nipples. 

“Like I said, I did a thing.” Elain gnawed on her lower lip, waiting for at least some kind of verbal reaction. “What do you think?”

Fortunately, she didn't need to wait long, because Mor chose that time to drop by for a visit. 

“Hey, Fey!” She yelled in her thick British accent.

At the sound of the blonde, all three Archeron sisters turned at once. Feyre’s jaw still halfway to the floor, Nesta’s arm still in the air and Elain’s still raised over her boobs.

Mor jerked her chin at Elain’s chest. “Nice.”

Snapping out of her freezed position, Elain quickly lowered her shirt. A blush creeping up her neck. “Thanks.”

Turning back to her sisters, her eyebrows high. “So, thoughts?”

“Well… uhm… they are… eh…” Feyre stammered.

“It’s… eh…” Nesta answered, still looking a little confused at the choice.

“The words you’re looking for are ‘fucking hot’, girls.” Mor said from the couch, a grin on her lips. “Az is going to lose his absolute mind when he sees them.”

This only caused Elain blush further. 

“Well, that’s the thing…” She gave them a sheepish smile and a little shrug.

“Oh my God.” Nesta muttered, sitting back down in the plush chair. “You didn’t-”

“Hold on.” Feyre interrupted, holding up a hand. “You didn’t tell Azriel, your boyfriend of almost 2 years, who you also live with, that you were having your nipples pierced.”

“Maybe…”

Mor almost rolled off the couch laughing. “Oh, this is bloody brilliant!”

“I just have to ask this, Elain, because I feel like at least one of us has to ask you this.” Nesta asked from her spot, her book in her lap once more. “What exactly was going through your head when you decided this?”

“Well, I’ve always liked piercing-”

“No shit.” Feyre snorted from besides Mor on the couch, having settled down next to her best friend.

Both of Azriel’s ears were heavily pierced, featuring both studs and rings. Elain herself, having an industrial piercing in her right ear and two in both her earlobes. 

“And while I could have gotten more in my ears, I wanted something a little different. I’d had this idea for a while. So with Az out of town this week, I thought ‘Why not now?’ Plus they need time to heal and by the time he’ll get back on Sunday, they properly won’t be as sore, so maybe if I’m lucky…” She trailed off, giving a little shrug. “You know.” 

“Like I said, he’s going to lose his mind.” Mor repeated.

—

After an extremely long week that seemed to go on forever, Azriel wanted nothing more than to get home and cuddle up next to his girl on the couch. 

Preferably naked.

However, it would seem life had another plan.

Starting with coming home to an empty apartment. 

Opening the front door, he called out. “Hey babe, I’m home!” 

Usually, when he had been away for a business trip, even if he would have just been gone for a night, it would follow by the sound of telltale soft pattern of Elain’s footsteps, as she would jump into his arms and give him a long, drugging kiss.

Not tonight, though. 

He walked into the bedroom. “Lain?”

Just then he heard a “No!” and something hitting the floor from the entry hall. 

Walking towards the front door, he was blessed by the sight of Elain Archeron, brown paper bags around her feet, wearing jeans that looked like they were painted and a beige coat, looking disappointed at his suitcase. 

“You know, I could leave again and come back in an hour and a half. You don’t exactly sound happy to see me.” 

Elain’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice. A smile instantly forming on those perfect lips. “I had a whole plan.”

A smile identical to hers formed on his lips. “I got an earlier flight.” He said, starting to walk closer to her.

“I was gonna make you lasagna. Your favorite.”  She smiled, likewise walking toward him.

“I finished my last meeting with one of the vendors earlier.” He stopped in front of her, smiling down at the love of his life. Still not sure how he had gotten her to agree to be with him, let alone gotten her to agree to take a chance on him. “Besides, I missed you.”

“I missed you too. A lot.”

“Then kiss me, woman.” 

Tilting her chin up, grabbing a hold of his black overcoat and pulling his lips to hers.

This was it. 

The only thing that mattered most to him. 

Her. 

Even if his tattoo chain crashed and burned tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter. As long as he had her, none of it mattered.

Closing his arms around her waist, he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Taking a deep inhale of her jasmine and honey scent, he squeezed her tight to his body. Like he did everyday he came home, the scent of her grounding him.

Only thing was, normally Elain would melt against him and let out a happy sigh. It was almost like a ritual for them. But now her entire body tensed, and she let out a pained whimper. 

Immediately he pulled back and looked her over. Trying to detect where she was hurt. Something had caused that heart wrenching sound.  

“Babe, are you okay?” He asked, worry clear in his voice.

Her eyes darted to the side, before looking at him again. It was quick, but he still caught it. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.” She gave him what she probably thought was a convincing smile.

He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Elain, we have been together for almost 2 years. If I weren’t able to tell when you’re not telling me the truth by now, then I don’t deserve that “World’s Best Boyfriend’ mug, you gave me for my birthday.”

The mug had been a gag gift, but he took the title seriously.

He could tell she was fighting a smile now. The slight curved at the corner of her mouth, the little crinkle by the corner of her eyes. 

“Okay. So, I did a thing.”

“The last time you said that to me, you came home with a tattoo.” She was full on smiling by now. “Not that I don’t love that tattoo.”

The tattoo in question was a simple rose on the back of her neck. Every morning he work before he would kiss the flower before getting up and get ready for work.

“It was supposed to be a surprise and I had hoped that they would be so sore anymore. But aren’t healing at quickly at I had hoped and-”

“Elain, what did you do?” He interrupted her ramble. 

But instead of just telling him, she took off coat, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor and lifted up her top, exposing her chest. 

And there they were.

Elain’s nipples, not something hadn’t seen before, in fact he quite enjoyed the sight of them. Except now with a metal barbell in each of them. 

“Fuck.” He said, his voice sounding like he had swallowed a handful of gravel. 

“You like?” Elain asked, a teasing slipping into her voice. 

“It’s fucking hot.” 

She laughed. “Yeah, that’s what Mor said too.”

 That snapped him out of his hypnotic state. “What? Mor saw your nipples? Why did Morrigan see your nipples?”

Elain told the grand tale of the previous Tuesday telling her new piercings to her sister and Mor walking in while his girlfriend was holding up her shirt.

They never did get around to make lasagna that night. They ended up ordering pizza instead.

They did cuddle on the couch, though not naked as Azriel had hoped, but him holding a cold compress on Elain’s chest the help the pain.

It was still pretty good night.

[rey-in-red]

what would you think the IC reaction would be to Elriel??

feyfey

rhys

mor

amren

nesta

cass

bonus: rhy answering feyre when she asks if he tried to keep them apart

[rey-in-red]

I really try not to participate in the war between Elriel and Gwynriel but I found this

And I just have to say

[rey-in-red]

Jurian is the funniest character in the entire ACOTAR series and I'm pretty sure most of what makes him so funny isn't even on purpose. like he's a living legend. he led a slave revolt and allegedly spent the whole time bragging about how great he is. he's a femme fatale. he crucified someone. for five hundred years, he was Spirit Halloween costume jewelry. he eats loudly. he was such an obvious double agent and literally nobody around him noticed even though four of them could read minds and his motive for siding with the baddies made no sense. he's really annoying. he's deeply traumatized. his ex girlfriend tried to murder him in the middle of the final battle of the series. despite being a relatively minor character, the main trilogy nearly ends on him and Feyre talking about the future. his best friends are a queen he unintentionally got turned into a bird and a centuries old nobleman he spent months intentionally antagonizing. he's almost a king. he's sprawled out on a ridiculous pink couch. he's undead. he's literally just a guy.

[rey-in-red]

“Cassian shot him a glare. "I don’t see you spouting poetry, brother."”

“Azriel crossed his arms, still smiling faintly. "I don’t need to resort to it."”

Why do I get the feeling Azriel is going to have to spout poetry, write sonnets, and beg on his knees to win Elain back after what he did 🤭🤭

[rey-in-red]

The ultimate Halloween 🎃 trios

Art: Jessdraw.s

[rey-in-red]

emails with “[AO3] Comment on _____” in the subject line give me a better dopamine rush than hard drugs ever will

[rey-in-red]

"Holding up one of her hands, the other still clinging to her bouquet, and giving me spirit fingers, she whispers, “Surprise.”"

Why did I just know Aelin was gonna do this? 😂😂😂

Amizing chapter!

'Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Seven}

Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist

A/N: The moment you've all been waiting for. THE REVEAL.

Elide -

“I literally think I might pass out.”

Aelin sits in the chair I just finished getting my hair and makeup done in, a glass of champagne in her hand, watching me pace. The dark green dress she picked out as her maid-of-honor dress is absolutely stunning. “You’re going to be fine.”

My words come out much harsher than I intend for them to. “Says the woman who knows the person she’s in a relationship with and won’t be leaving with a husband that’s a stranger.”

She knows I’m not trying to be a bitch, but I’m about one stressful thought away from a full on panic attack.

In less than an hour, I’ll be married. I don’t know his name. I don’t know what he looks like, what he does for a living. I don’t know how old he is. All I know is that he’s supposedly perfect for me.

I pause my pacing in front of the full length mirror the hotel provided in the room they gave Aelin and I to get ready in.

The dress I’d chosen had little in the way of ornamentation, made entirely of beautifully detailed lace. I already have a few ideas for what to do with the lace after the wedding. It’s too pretty to sit in a box and turn yellow. It’s tight, hugging every curve and dip on the way down my body, until it flares out at my thighs. The tiny sleeves, hanging off my shoulders, made of the same lace, are dainty and feminine. The train is out, since I’ll be walking down the aisle very soon, and I turn to look at the long line of buttons trailing down my entire back. It had taken Aelin almost ten minutes to get it completely buttoned. The second I’d seen the dress, I’d known it was the one. I tried on a few more, at the behest of Aelin and the girl who was helping us, but I kept coming back to that dress. It wasn’t until right now that I wondered if it was too much.

“As a woman, I know you’re not supposed to tell a woman this, but you need to calm down,” Aelin says, then offers me her glass. “Drink? Smoke? Xanax? All of the above?”

I laugh but that panic is still there in full force. I groan, face falling into my hands. “What am I doing here?”

Aelin’s eyes soften as she sets down her glass and rises to her feet to take my hands. “You’re here to meet the love of your life.”

“And if he’s the opposite of that?” I protest because it’s all I can think about. It’s a much more probable outcome, this being a mistake.

“Then you put yourself out there and you tried,” she says, hands clinging to mine. “I know this is stressful. I know you’re anxious, but this moment is going to change your life. No matter what happens, this moment is a turning point. This moment will advance you and help you grow and help you determine what you want out of life. You’re so brave, so courageous, going on this adventure. And I’m proud of you, which is why I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.” She turns me toward the mirror. “I have never seen a more beautiful bride.”

I take a deep breath. “Thank you. I love you. This is honestly all because of you.”

She smirks. “I know, you’re welcome. I love you, too.”

Laughing at her, I shake my head, because what else can I do? She succeeded in making me not stress for thirty seconds, which was her goal.

“Sure you don’t want that Xanax?” She asks, studying my face.

Turning away from the mirror, I head for the last piece that I need to be ready: my veil. After retrieving it from my dress bag where I’d carefully hung it, I sit in the chair in front of the mirror and hand it to Aelin. She tucks the comb beneath a braid, exactly where the stylist had shown her and fans it out behind me. Standing, I return to the full length mirror, taking in the full picture.

I look like a bride.

“I can tell you one thing about your husband,” Aelin smiles, standing next to me. “He’s a lucky man.”

My eyes line with tears, but before I can say anything, there’s a knock at the door. Hasar peeks her head in. “Just a few minutes until we’re gonna start. You okay?”

My heart lodges in my throat and suddenly I’ve lost the ability to speak, so I nod. Hasar gives me a sympathetic smile, so I must look as freaked as I feel, and then looks to Aelin. “I’ll give you guys a couple more minutes together, but then we’re gonna give the bride a few minutes alone before we start.”

I’m already shaking my head no, don’t take my best friend, when Aelin takes my hand and squeezes. “Sounds good, Hasar. Give me just a second and I’ll be out.”

She nods and then turns back to me. “Elide, you look beautiful. That dress is stunning. We’re so happy you two are finally getting married. You’re our last couple and we can’t wait for you to start your life together.”

With that and another smile, she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

Aelin turns me so I’m facing her and takes my hands in hers. “I want you to remember that everything happens for a reason, okay? The team has done their research and they matched everyone up with exactly who they were supposed to.”

I blink at her. Of course I’m aware of this, I’ve spent the last six months going through rigorous questioning, interviews, and digging far deeper into my personal history than I was expecting. I trust them to make the best decisions. I squeeze her hand, giving her the best, most calm smile I can. “I know.”

She laughs softly, so I know it can’t be too convincing. I need to work on that before I meet my husband at the altar.

My husband. Oh, gods, this is happening.

She kisses my cheek then she’s out the door, leaving me alone although I’m the last person that should be left alone.

I think of my about-to-be-husband. Is he panicking right now? Or, is he perfectly calm? Gods, what if he’s drunk? I wish I was drunk. I already feel like I’m about to vomit, I may as well have a stomach full of alcohol that’s the cause.

But no, the cause is my impending marriage that I still can’t believe I’ve signed on to. 

I don’t want to wait.

I just want to get out there and get it on with. I open the door to find Aelin standing there alongside Gavriel. I only met him an hour ago but he’ll be the one walking me down the aisle considering I don’t have anyone else. I wondered why Rowan didn’t want to be the one to walk me, but I didn’t ask. It’s not that Rowan and I are all that close but at least I know him better than this guy.

Gavriel.

Although, he does seem to be a nice guy. From Aelin’s description, he’s in The Cadre and is the most mature out of any of them. She described him as father-like, which I wasn’t sure what to make of, but apparently it made him the winning candidate of who would walk me down the aisle.

“Ready?“ Aelin asks me and I’m about to shove everyone out of the way and storm to the altar, but I don’t. Instead I nod and that nausea rolls in my stomach.

Gavriel looks down at me with an encouraging smile and holds out his arm. “You look beautiful.”

I try to smile back but fail. “Thank you.”

Next thing I know, someone has handed me a bouquet and Aelin, holding a smaller version of my bouquet, is standing before the closed doors that will lead into the ballroom that will hold both the ceremony and reception. She looks back at me and gives me a wink just as the music starts, her cue to start down the aisle. The doors open from the inside and she gives me one last look before she’s gone.

Holy shit, this is happening.

I’m getting married to a stranger. A complete and total stranger. I know they said they vetted all the crazies out, but what if my future husband managed to pass all the tests and still has plans to murder me?

My eyes dart around the hall, finding an exit sign above the door at the far end.

There. There’s my escape if I need it.

My arm must tighten in Gavriel’s because his free hand covers mine. “Hey, take a deep breath, you’re fine.”

I do just that, trying to relax. “Sorry, this just…isn’t how I imagined my wedding day.”

His already somber tone deepens. “I get that, but you both know what you signed up for when you decided to do this study, right? So you’re in this together?”

I hadn’t thought of it like that. “I guess you’re right.”

He smiles, and there’s sadness there I wasn’t expecting. The music swells and his hand releases mine. “It’s time.”

Taking a deep breath, I nod. “It’s time.”

We step into the open doorway and as if I can’t control my body, my gaze snaps to my shoes. I should be taking everything in, looking at my surroundings, looking at my husband at the end of the aisle, but my body is in full revolt from my brain. It’s only when I notice people to my right that I’m able to look up.

My soon-to-be husband’s guests and his family. They look…nothing like I was imagining. Which was normal wedding guests. There are people wearing leather and denim and everywhere I look is tattooed skin and long hair.

I’m sorry, did I just walk into my wedding or a concert?

My eyes snap to my side of the aisle and…

It’s all but empty, which was to be expected, but I at least expected to see more than who is seated there.

Aedion and Lysandra are up front, as well as the people running the program and…that’s it.

Where is Rowan? And the rest of The Cadre, if Gavriel is here, walking at my side? Shouldn’t they be sitting on my side?

When Aelin told me they were coming, I thought it was strange, but shrugged it off. I had no one else that I’d wanted to invite, so I said the more the merrier and let her handle it.

Had they decided to sit on the other side because they were embarrassed? Gods, I might die—

Somehow, because this is simultaneously the longest and shortest walk of my life, we’re only about halfway up the aisle as I process all of this information. And yet I still haven’t been able to force my eyes forward.

As if he knows what I’m struggling with, Gavriel gives my side an encouraging nudge.

I let out the breath I’m holding and look forward. My eyes dart around, trying to see everything at once. I acknowledge Aelin standing off to the left, right beside where I’ll be standing in a matter of seconds. And as my eyes are crossing the aisle to finally focus on my husband, they get caught on a shock of silver hair and green eyes so vivid I can see them from here.

Rowan.

Rowan is…standing at the altar.

What the hell is he doing up there? Are he and Aelin getting married after us, taking advantage of the officiant while he’s here? I wouldn’t blame them, but I feel like she would have told me if that was the case.

As my brain is rambling on and on, it’s taking longer to catch up to what my eyes are seeing. Because I swear, I see Lorcan standing up there, next to Rowan.

I’d been thinking about Rowan's band mate nonstop since we’d been informally introduced a couple months ago. The way his heated gaze had dragged over my body had kept me up far too many nights than I cared to admit. So my brain has to be projecting for me.

I blink, ready to look past the illusion, and actually see my husband.

Lorcan Salvaterre remains.

I stumble but Gavriel’s hold on me remains firm and he walks me forward.

Reality dawns on me.

Lorcan Salvaterre is the man I’m marrying. He will be my husband. He was chosen as my perfect mate.

It’s not processing. 

I look at Aelin for some sort of clarity and I swear she cringes. Holding up one of her hands, the other still clinging to her bouquet, and giving me spirit fingers, she whispers, “Surprise.”

I’ve made it to the altar now and cannot even begin to attempt to give Aelin any sort of reply. The music stops and it’s then that I realize that Gavriel has taken a seat and I’m left standing in front of my husband.

The rockstar.

The infamous Lorcan Salvaterre.

Yes, I googled him after that first informal meeting of ours and gods, the internet had a lot to say. 

I meet his eyes now as if im seeing him for the first time since I entered the room.

He wears a black tux that’s fitted to his massive frame, both his shirt and tie beneath black, too. His shoulder length hair is pulled back and it seems that he shaved for the occasion. His nose ring remains and the tattoo on his neck is visibly sticking out of his collar.

But his eyes are warm and searching my face. 

His lips are parted and his breaths are coming out in ragged pants.

I look again to Aelin.

She’s smiling at me hesitantly.

Good. She should be worried. After I say I do, I’m throttling her.

There is no feasible way that she didn’t know Lorcan was in the program. And there’s no way she hadn’t figured out within at least the last couple weeks that I would be marrying Lorcan. Rowan had to have known, and he would have told Aelin, because she’d obviously be his plus one.

Did she encourage him to apply to? Was this all intentional?

He at least looks…genuinely surprised to see me. Whether Aelin knew or not, it’s clear that Lorcan was just as in the dark as I was on this.

My mind is reeling, trying to process everything, and I don’t realize that I’m speaking, that I’m repeating vows, until I’m taking his massive hand in mine, sliding the platinum band he’d chosen onto his finger. I noticed the tattoo design on the top of his hand as I do so, a pocket watch with dark roses around it. I look down and there’s a matching, smaller band on my own hand. When the hell did that get there?

“You may kiss the bride.”

Wait, what? Did I say I do?

I don’t have time to run back through what I repeated in my head, because Lorcan’s still got my hand in his and he’s leaning towards me.

Oh, gods, he’s going to kiss me.

Just before his lips meet mine, I turn my head and he kisses my cheek. The guests all cheer and laugh.

“Kiss him!” Aelin hisses from behind me, but I can’t.

I’m frozen and after another awkward beat of hesitation, my new husband tugs me forward and down the aisle. He receives cheers and slaps on the back and I get…tight lipped smiles from the romance team. At least Dr. Towers actually looks happy for us.

We’re met at the door by Hasar, who leads us back to the suite of rooms where Aelin and I got ready.

“Congratulations, you two! Alright, now I know you’re feeling excited and nervous and about a thousand other emotions, but rest assured, that’s absolutely fine.” She smiles at us. “The rest of the guests are going to step out for drinks and appetizers while they flip the room for your reception. You two will have about half an hour alone in here to get to know each other a little, and then the photographer will come here to get you. They’ll take some pictures and then you'll join everyone in the reception hall for dinner." She clasps her hands together. "You guys make the best couple. I'm so excited for you!”

“Thanks, babe.” Lorcan’s voice rumbles out and I blink.

Did he just call her babe?

I step away from Lorcan, forcing him to drop my hand at last. “Can you get Aelin for me?”

Hasar shakes her head. “No, I’m so sorry, Elide. Dr. Towers insists the bride and groom be alone for this time. You'll be able to talk to her soon, though. I'll go out and tell her that you want to see her as soon as you're able."

Hasar leaves and I stare at the door as it slowly snicks shut.

After a moment, Lorcan clears his throat. I turn to find him standing behind him, his hands shoved into his pockets. He has a humored look on his face as he studies me. “Want a drink?”

I want to say no, but I also want to say yes, but I say nothing. I continue to stare at him, dumbfounded.

Married.

I am married.

We are married. 

I am married to a fucking rockstar who is the embodiment of what I told Dr. Towers and her team that I did not want. I recall asking for a clean-cut man with a regular nine to five job. Not this guy, standing there taking a shot of whiskey like its water.

And then another.

He hands me a glass.

I take it to calm the shaking of my hands, the pounding in my chest. I’m married. I just said my vows and said I do and now I’m in this, there’s no going back. 

“You look disappointed,” he says, and there’s no judgment in it, although I can’t quite place the look in his eyes. 

“Surprised,” I correct, although I’m trying to spare his feelings because the truth is that I am disappointed. This is not what I wanted. He is not what I wanted. He’s the polar opposite. 

With my drink that I’ve yet to sip from, I sit on the couch and watch him as he slips off his jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair. He rolls up his sleeves and gods he’s covered in tattoos. I would be surprised if there was an inch of skin that wasn’t covered, aside from his face that has yet to be inked. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, and it almost doesn’t register that he’s talking to me but of course he is. I am his wife, after all…even if he did just call another woman babe in front of me not even five minutes ago.

I’m sure he calls a lot of women babe. 

This guy doesn’t even seem like the type who would want a wife…or have any trouble finding one if he did. Surely, he could announce his intentions to marry and have a flock of women on his doorstep in a heartbeat. Then, it occurs to me. This has to be some kind of PR stunt. The thought has anger and embarrassment coursing through my body. 

I’m going to demand to talk to Dr. Towers. Maybe even get a lawyer and sue for distress. I endured detailed interviews, questionnaires, meetings with psychologists and sex therapists for almost half a year for this. Months of my life— just gone. And now I’m legally married to someone who probably did this for publicity and not to find a life partner. 

I have to force myself not to cry. “Thanks.”

He is handsome, despite looking like he rolled around on an inkpad. The way he’s watching me, though…

I stand to my feet and drink from my glass, welcoming the burn it brings as the liquid courses down my throat. “You’re…famous.”

He smirks as he refills his shot glass. “Very astute of you.”

He tosses the shot back like it’s nothing. I’ve had one sip to his three shots. I mentioned to the team that I didn’t want to be married to someone with a substance abuse problem. Granted, I feel like that’s something that shouldn’t have been mentioned, but here we are.

I shake my head, not understanding. “Why would you want to do this?” 

He pours another shot and I genuinely can’t believe he’s about to take his fourth in a matter of minutes. “Why?” Down goes the shot and then he pulls a lighter from his pocket, lighting a cigarette dangling between his lips. I’m pretty sure this isn’t a smoking room. Hell, I don’t think this fancy hotel has smoking rooms. He takes a drag and blows the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t settle in my face. How sweet of him. “Truthfully? I wanted to be with someone who wasn’t just interested in me for my name, my money, or my dick.”

His crass answer catches me off guard and my brain shorts out for a minute. It’s the only reason I can think that I say, “I don’t like being around someone who has a drinking problem. I put that on my questionnaire.”

Taking another hit off his cigarette, his eyebrows raise. “There’s a glass in your hand, too, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. I’m seeing red.

Crossing to the sink set into the bar, I dump it down the drain. “I had one drink. You had four shots.”

His own displeasure is settling into his features. “Okay, I’ll cut back on the drinking. Anything else you put on the questionnaire that they ignored?” My eyes shoot to the cigarette before going back to his face, but he catches my wordless answer. “Of course.” Turning, he stubs out his cigarette in the bottom of one of his used shot glasses. “Better?”

No, I think to myself as I look at the man that’s now my husband. It’s not.

[rey-in-red]

Cassian and Azriel by @lemonade_doodles on Instagram. Bonus under the cut!

[rey-in-red]

'Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Two}

Elorcan. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab.

‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist

I stand outside of the restaurant wishing I had brought a jacket. During the day, summers in Orynth are absolute perfection, the sun always shining and the temperature in the seventies, near perfection. At night, cool air drifts from the mountains and a cool breeze takes away what’s left of the warmth. It would not be so bad if my date had been here when I arrived, but there’s been no sign of him. I check my phone. I’ve already been here for almost thirty minutes.

I hate blind dates. The thought has terrified me in the past but I’m at a point in my life that I want a partner. I want to find love, as most people do, but the process of finding love is a painful endeavor. 

It has me standing out here in my finest dress freezing my ass off in five inch heels. Every car that passes me has me excited, borderline anxious, but it quickly fades to annoyance as they keep on driving and no one gets out. I check the time again. It has officially been more than half an hour. 

I’m not sure how long to wait before going home, but I’m starving so I decide to wait it out. The thought of chicken marsala and a glass of wine has my mouth watering to the point that I nearly go in without him, but I don’t. I only have so much money on me. Hopefully he offers to pay. If not, I may only be eating ramen until my next paycheck.

Which sounds delicious right now. Gods, I’m starving.

“Elide?”

I turn towards the sound of my name being called, my eyes falling on the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. His blue eyes smolder in the dim lighting of the restaurant behind us and I swear, you could use his jawline as a knife. He did tell me he was a model, and his profile corroborated that information, but I figured he was lying.

With those cheekbones, I know he isn’t.

“Yes, hey.” I smile up at him. At five foot two, almost everyone I meet is taller than me, but this guy is a good bit over six feet. Even in my ridiculous heels, he’s a lot taller than I am. “You must be Roland.”

“Yeah…” Rather than extending his hand to me or anything remotely appropriate to say or do on a first date, he proceeds to take a step back and look me over from head to toe. He doesn’t say a word, he just keeps letting his eyes dance over me.

Another chilled breeze stirs up my hair and I fight off a shiver. The smile is starting to feel more like a grimace, but I say, “If you’re ready, we can go inside.” He’s been studying me for nearly a full minute now, he had to have noticed I’m not wearing a jacket.

Roland bites his lip, a move I’m sure has drenched many a pair of panties, and crosses his arms. “Listen, you’re…not what I was expecting.”

I blink, floored by his response. “Oh…”

Gesturing to himself and then back to me, he explains, “I’ve got an image to uphold and you…don’t fit that.”

I try to keep myself from gaping. “I’m…sorry. I don’t follow.”

His eyes narrow and he looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Don’t make me be the bad guy.”

I jolt, nearly laughing. “What the hell are you talking about?” At this point, I’m freezing my ass off and I’m hangry. I don’t have time for this guy’s games.

“I can’t be seen with you,” he says, simply, shrugging. “You’re just not my type. You looked different in your pictures. Taller. More put together. Sexy.”

Taller? How does someone look tall in selfies? And more put together? “My gods, I—”

“Feel free to use our table. It’s reserved until nine.” He gestures towards the doors, backing up a few more steps. “The lobster is great.”

With that, he’s gone, and I’m left staring after him like a dumbfounded idiot. I’m not his type? I’m too short? I’m not even going to touch the sexy comment, cause he’s sort of right about that. If I wasn’t a damn lady, I’d be running after him, tackling him to the ground, and punching him right in his pretty boy nose.

But, I am a lady, so I grip my clutch a little tighter and walk the opposite way of the asshole, back to my apartment. I could take the bus, but I’m already so cold that I don’t want to wait at the bus stop. It’s only a few blocks and the walking should help warm me up.

The walk and the newfound anger brewing deep inside my gut.

Not his type? I don’t know who that guy thinks he is. I don’t know how he’ll ever find a girl that wants more than a one night stand. What he has in beauty, he lacks in any sort of inner attraction whatsoever. Not his type. Prick. 

Embarrassed and wishing I had never left my house to begin with, I walk as quickly as I can, although my choice of shoes for the evening protest with every step. I wish I had a car, but a car costs money and so does, gas so here I am, reinventing the walk of shame. 

I hope he gets hit by a taxi.

I should feel guilty for that thought.

I don’t.

I don’t live in the best part of town, but my landlord hasn’t increased my rent in three years. It’s probably thanks to the leaking windows, failing air conditioning, and the fact that the plumbing constantly backs up for no reason, but I won’t push my luck. Not when I can’t afford anything else without moving outside of the city.

I jog up the steps to my floor, ready to kick off the stupid heels the second I get inside, but as I stand outside my door, numb fingers fumbling with my keys, the door across from mine opens.

“Miss Elide, I thought you had a date tonight.”

I turn around and give Murtaugh a tired smile. “It didn’t work out.”

“That’s okay,” he replies, leaning on his door frame. “If it didn't work out, he didn’t deserve you anyways.”

You have no clue how right you are. “Thank you, Murtaugh.”

“You really should give my grandson a chance,” he says as I finally get my door unlocked. “He’s very handsome.”

“If he’s half as handsome as you, then I’m already out of my league.” I step inside, immediately ditching the heels by the door. “Goodnight, Murtaugh.”

His kind smile has been one of the only constant things I’ve had in my life for the past few years. “Goodnight, Miss Elide.”

We shut our respective doors and I immediately hear a tiny bell rushing towards me. A ball of black fluff appears from the hallway leading to the lone bedroom and then rushes towards me. Anneith purrs loudly as I add food to her bowl, despite it being almost completely full.

I leave the ridiculous heels by the door, wondering if it’s too late to return them. I know exactly where the receipt is, and they were only worn for my disaster of a date.

I sigh as I grab my phone from my clutch and head towards my bedroom. I’ve got a few soap orders I need to pack up before bed and last time I checked my email, I had three new orders placed, but I’m drained. I’d been looking forward to that date for days. Roland and I had been talking for a few weeks at this point and I really thought we’d hit it off. We had similar beliefs when it came to our futures and families. He knew I didn’t have a conventional “job”, just like he didn’t. We’d stayed up countless nights chatting and I…

I don’t know why I’m surprised. I’ve been single for almost three years, since Ress and I broke up. There’s a reason for that, clearly. I just need to accept my future as a cat lady and move on.

Before I start making matching T-shirts for me and Anneith, though, I call my best friend as I enter my room and unzip my dress. She answers on the first ring.

“I should not be hearing from you this soon.” Aelin, as always, is far too perceptive for her own good. “I shouldn’t be hearing from you until tomorrow morning when you call me to tell me how big his dick was.”

She says that as if that’s our normal routine, which it sort of is. Or at least, it used to be. It had been very one-sided while Aelin was dating and I was, by no choice of my own, nearly celibate. Then she met Rowan.

“No dick report tonight,” I sigh, tugging a baggy shirt over my head and a pair of comfy pajama bottoms. “We didn’t even make it into the restaurant and he was almost an hour late.”

Aelin is quiet for a moment before she asks, “And do I want to know why you didn’t even make it into the restaurant?” 

I sigh as I fall back onto my bed and close my eyes. “He took one very long look at me and told me I wasn’t his type. Then he left.”

Aelin is quiet for another minute and I prepare myself for her supportive wrath. “I’m sorry,” she starts, “he did what? Who is this asshole? Where does he live? I will burn his house to the ground and laugh as—”

“It’s fine,” I say, although her manic response has me laughing. “If that’s the way he was gonna be I don’t want to sit through an entire evening with him anyways.” Even if the sex would have been good, which I’m sure it would have been. I miss sex. I miss someone else making me orgasm instead of having to work so damn hard for it myself, but I can’t get with the one night stand program. It’s just not how I’m wired. “I think I’ll just pour a glass of wine and eat what’s left of the ice cream in my freezer.”

Aelin sighs and I know she’s frowning. “Hang tight and I’ll be there in twenty minutes with a full gallon.”

“No,” I say, pulling my blankets up over my head. “I know Rowan just got home. You’ve been missing him like crazy and I have the honor of seeing you all the time. Stay with him.”

“I don’t want you to be alone tonight,” Aelin says, and I have no idea how I found a friend so perfect and wonderful to keep for the entirety of my life. “You deserve to have fun, even if it’s not the fun you intended.”

I laugh and shake my head. “If you come here I’m locking you out. Stay home. I can’t imagine Rowan will like me very much if I take you away once he’s just gotten there.” 

She sighs dramatically, but the sound is full of love, and then a familiar deep voicerumbles over the phone. “Thank you, Elide.”

I laugh, despite how lonely the sound of Aelin’s boyfriend makes me feel. “You’re welcome. Glad you’re home safe and sound.” 

Aelin’s voice is much more clear when she speaks next and I know she’s got the phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”

I can tell Aelin is torn between being a good friend and being a good girlfriend, so I make the decision for her. “I’m positive. I’ve got, like, six orders I need to work on to go out tomorrow, so it works out.”

It’s a crappy lie and I’m pretty sure Aelin knows it. Still, she relents. “I’ll come over right after work tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, now go enjoy yourself.” I rethink the words the second they’re out of my mouth.

“Don’t worry, I will.” I groan and she laughs. “I’m sorry your date sucked, but I promise, I’m going to find you the hottest, most amazing guy ever.”

Aelin had tried playing matchmaker for me before. It always ended horribly.

I’m shaking my head, despite the fact that she can’t see me. “I appreciate it, but you know me, I’m fine on my own.”

And I was. I’d been on my own since I was seventeen. A boyfriend wouldn’t change the fact that I can take care of myself.

I’m just sick of being the only one who does.

“I know,” Aelin says, as if she’s reading my thoughts just like she always has. “I love you. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you,” I say, and hang up as Rowan’s voice echoes in the background and Aelin giggles.

I’m happy that Aelin found someone like Rowan. They’re perfect for one another. I can tell she loves him every time he’s even mentioned. I don’t know how she does it, though, loving someone who is constantly gone. He’s always touring. When he is home it’s for a couple months then he’s gone for the rest of the year, only coming back for a week every now and then. I know he’s loyal to her but that distance… I don’t think I could do it. 

I wouldn’t want to.

I want a man who will wake up beside me every morning and go to his boring 9-to-5 job right here in Orynth. Not that I need a man. I’ve already established that, that I’m well enough on my own. Especially if the rest of the men in this city are anything like Roland.

[rey-in-red]

Someone prolly already did this but TAKE A REMINDER

Here's exactly why Lorcan and Elide are an amazing couple:

lorCAN

eLIDe

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This will never not be funny

Azriel and Lucien

[rey-in-red]

This.

[rey-in-red]

Amazing!

‘Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter One}

Elorcan. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab.

A/N: Okay, so this story is like nothing Tara and I have posted here before. We usually stick to 3rd Person POV, but we decided to change it up this time. Working on this one has been a lot of fun, we hope you enjoy it, too! This chapter, as well as most of the story, is 18+.

“God, yes! You feel so good!”

I have zero doubt that the girl writhing beneath me is lying, but I do get the feeling that she’s overexaggerating just a bit. I’ve been with tons of women, it comes with the territory of being the front man of a famous band, so I know how to make sure a girl has a good time.

However, my dick has only been inside her for all of ten seconds and she’s already panting like she’s halfway to an orgasm.

I sigh as I flex my hips, continuing to pound into her. Her hands land on my ass, squeezing as she says my name over and over and over. It’s less hot than I think she imagines it is and more of a nuisance. The pitch of her voice is grating and the louder she gets, the harder it is to ignore.

This is pretty much how every night is after a show. We come off stage, hit the showers, find the afterparty, and shit gets wild from there. Without fail, there’s someone that will do anything to spend a night in my bed, so why not oblige them? They all act like it’s the best sex they’ve ever had, and while they may be right, the porn star moans and overacting gets to be pretty grating.

For instance, this girl.

Jeanie? Jessica?

Justine?

I can’t remember and I honestly don’t give a fuck. Her constant screaming, moans and groans have killed my hard on and I pull out of her, snapping the condom off.

She sits up as soon as her legs hit the mattress. “What are you doing? I was about to cum.”

Bullshit. No one cums after thirty seconds of easy missionary.

“I was done,” I reply, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and standing.

She crosses her arms over her chest. It makes her look like a brat and not the fun kind. The childish kind. “But you didn’t cum.”

What a very astute observation. “I said I was done, not that I had finished.”

She hesitates, bewilderment written across her face as her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink, but then she pays the mattress next to her. “Why don’t you lay back down? I promise I can make you feel good.”

My fingers go to the bridge of my nose as my eyes close, just so I don’t have to see her begging. “Look, I’m tired. You can see yourself out.”

She doesn’t move as I open the mini fridge and pull out a tiny bottle of overpriced liquor. I down it quickly before pulling out another. After a moment I look over my shoulder to find Justine - Jennifer? - whoever the hell she is, with her legs spread wide open, facing me at the foot of the bed. 

Gods, she’s desperate. 

I lift a brow as my eyes graze her body. She’s hot as hell, although beauty does very little for me. I have seen enough models naked and begging that it doesn’t have the same affect on me it once did. It’s a shame, really, that fucking a beautiful woman has become so boring. 

My prepubescent self would be ashamed. At seventeen, the thought of having a woman in my bed alone was exciting. Now, I could be balls deep in a woman while two more stood by, hands and tongues roaming my body, and still be distracted as fuck.

Joelle pouts on my bed. I want to take that bottom lip that’s jutting out and shove it back into her mouth. Nothing annoys me more than whining. If I wanted to listen to a woman whine at me, I’d have a girlfriend. 

That’s not the only reason I don’t have a girlfriend, but it’s one of them. The list is long, but touring sort of makes dating hard. Tried it for the first year after we made it big. Didn’t end well for either of us.

I grab Jasmine’s dress off the floor and throw it between her open legs before grabbing a cigarette off the hotel’s dresser and lighting it up. As smoke begins to fill my room, Jordan finally gets the hint and stands.

Or, maybe she doesn’t because she drops the scrap of fabric that she calls a dress and walks up to me, running her palms down my abdomen. She fists my cock and meets my gaze.

“I’ve heard things about you,” she says, eyes lit. “Rumors.”

I arch a brow, turning my face as I blow out a puff of smoke. “I don’t care.”

She grins and it’s wicked. “Are you sure? Because everyone else in the Cadre seems to have pretty good reputations.” She starts to pump slowly, her other hand finding my balls and giving them a gentle squeeze. I grunt. Whether I want to fuck her or not, I can’t deny it feels good as fuck. “Then there’s you, the Cadre’s lead singer. They say you never leave a woman unsatisfied. That you live to please.” 

She drops to her knees and I lean back against the dresser, putting the cigarette between my lips and taking a long drag. Judging from the way Jackie was moaning and screaming and writhing, she’s not that hard to please. None of them ever are. 

“I think it’s time, Lorcan Salvaterre, someone pleases you,” she croons, and takes my cock into her mouth.

It’s always the same.

The conversations.

The sex.

The disappointment.

I sigh, wishing I was in bed, going to sleep. We’ll be heading out early in the morning and I never get good sleep on the bus. Judy doesn’t seem to notice my disinterest. She continues to try her best.

So fucking desperate.

Putting a hand to her forehead, I stop the bobbing of her head, taking a step to the side. My dick popped out of the side of her mouth, bouncing back and slapping her cheek.

Nice. That makes me look like I really am as big of an asshole as I seem.

I put distance between us and grab my dark jeans off the floor. Stepping into them, I swipe my phone off the dresser and shoot a text to my driver downstairs. “Look, I told you I’m tired. I’m trying to be nice. You can go. My driver will be waiting out front and he’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

It’s hard to ignore the fact that Joy is still on her knees, her tits still out, but I take another drag of my cigarette and blow it in her direction. That gets her moving.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” she snaps, confirming my earlier thoughts, trying to pull her dress up over her hips, but having trouble with all of the different layers and zippers adorning it.

With a sigh, I head towards her, my cigarette dangling between my lips. “Let me help.”

“So you’ll help me get dressed, but you won’t fuck me?” She scoffs. “What a gentleman.”

I can hear the sarcasm oozing from her voice as I adjust her top so her nipples are no longer sticking out.

“I could have let you walk out with your ass showing and tits out, but I figured you wouldn’t appreciate it since there are probably paparazzi outside.” Her face heats at that. I step back, gesturing towards the door. “Have a good night, Jade.”

As she was grabbing her heels off the floor, she froze and turned towards me. Before I could blink, one of the boots was flying towards my face. I just barely managed to duck before it hit me, the sound of glass shattering behind me. The second one smashed into three full sized bottles of liquor along the top of the bar.

Whirling, I look at the damage. The massive picture above the bar was shattered, glass everywhere. Liquor is dripping off the bar, soaking the carpet beneath.

“My name is Kacey.”

Great. The most expensive temper tantrum I’ve ever seen.

I hear the door to the hotel room slam shut, which is for the best as I was done being nice. 

I grab a glass that hadn’t been completely shattered and swiped my hand along the top of the bar, catching the pooling liquor in my glass and tossing it back.

Was it rum or vodka? Gin? Tequila?

Probably a mix of some sort, if the taste is anything to go by, but I swallow it down and drop the glass back amongst the wreckage.

I shed my pants, not bothering to find my boxer-briefs before crawling back into the bed. 

My sheets smell like tantrum girl’s perfume, which she had been wearing way too much of, but it doesn’t overpower the smell of smoke and liquor that now fill my room.

I’ve had rooms that have smelled worse.

After I turn off the lamp by my bedside, I can’t help but wonder what my bandmates are up to, if they’re as bored and annoyed as me.

I have to imagine I fall somewhere in the middle of the misery that is the Cadre. Gavriel is most likely already asleep. He doesn’t go out with us anymore, not since the death of fiancée a few months back. It had been sudden and we had all tried to be there for him at first. He shut down though, wanted nothing to do with us, with our help. It makes sense, though. Comfort can’t ring people back from the dead. He was just now starting to act like his old self again and it’s a damn good thing. He’s the only truly responsible one out of the five of us.

Then there’s Fenrys, who will never settle down. He’s the youngest - and Conall, of course - but Fen’s twin is much more tame than him. While Con is most likely in his room, stoned out of his mind and playing Call of Duty, Fen is probably passed out drunk at the club, waiting for his driver to come in and bring him back to the hotel. I drink a lot, sure, but at least I can hold my liquor. Fenrys can drink and drink and drink, but doesn’t know when to stop. So he goes from having a great time to black out within a couple shots. He rarely remembers all the details from the night before. Pretty sure he likes it that way though.

Vaughan’s not with us this leg of the tour but he will be soon. I miss that jackass. I usually use him as an excuse not to socialize with anyone I don’t know. He’s quiet but he’s good company.

Rowan is probably the happiest out of all of us and he’s the one I’ve known the longest. It was me and him that started the Cadre in my garage when we were freshmen in high school. I’ve known him since elementary school and we’ve been friends ever since. Right now, without a doubt, he’s holed up in his room talking to his girlfriend, Aelin, on the phone even though it’s almost five am in Orynth. He’s in love with her. I’ve never seen him act around anyone the way he acts with her. Since the day they met, he hasn’t given another woman even a glance.

At first, I gave him shit about it. We’d talked about all the pussy we were going to get, just because we were rock stars, when we were teenagers, and for a while, that’s how it was. It’s been seven years since we hit it big and ten since we graduated high school and started pursuing our dreams full time. Ten years of drinking, smoking, snorting, and fucking whatever we could get our hands on or in, and he meets her in a coffee shop the morning after a show in Orynth and boom. I lost my wingman.

Well. It wasn’t immediate. She made him fight for it for a while, since his reputation was nearly as bad as mine, whether it was fully deserved or not. He did whatever he could to prove that he left that life — my life — behind and had no interest in the groupies and hangovers and drugs. Over a year later, the entire band has now relocated to Orynth, including our manager. She was not happy about the change, but where we go, she goes.

Thinking of Orynth makes me think of home. Makes me think of my bed, with its soft sheets, plush mattress and cinnamon-and-vanilla oil I keep in the diffuser in my room. Sharing a house with Fenrys and Conall, there are usually suspect smells lingering anywhere they or one of their “guests” hangs around.

I miss my bed.

Rolling over to look at the clock on the bedside table, I see that it’s just after one.

Still being assaulted with the sickeningly sweet perfume, I close my eyes and try to imagine the smell and feel of my sheets. Growing up, I always thought that once I became a famous rockstar, I’d be the happiest man in the world. Now that I’ve achieved my goal, I find that the only thing that makes me happy is soft, clean sheets that smell like cinnamon. I can’t tell if that makes me spoiled or if I just appreciate the finer things in life.

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The holy thrinity of couples from Acotar 🛐

Shit, they are so fucking hot 🥵🥵

Art🎨: __alex_oxy__ commissioned for 0nceuponapin on ig

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Beautiful Archeron sisters