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prashantgujjar · 3 years

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i get an error when creating newff please help me ..

the excel file has the dataset. it has 24 columns. first 12 columns has the target value 1. the last 12 colums have the target value 0. i wanted to design a NN for classification into 1 or 0. the data was copied to dat file. i selected all the 198 rowsand 24 colums to input.dat . single rown with 24 colums as target.dat and i get the following error . please rectify.

Error:

Error using newff (line 107) Input ranges is not a two column matrix. Error in signature1 (line 17) net=newff(input_n,target_n,13);

close all ; clc; clf; clear all; load input.dat; load target.dat; input1=input(1:198,1:24); target1=target(1:198,1); [input_n,input_n_struct]=mapminmax(input1'); [target_n,target_n_struct]=mapminmax(target1'); net=newff(input_n,target_n,13); net.divideFcn='divideblock'; net.divideParam.trainRatio=80; net.divideParam.valRatio=10; net.divideParam.testRatio=10; net.trainFcn='trainlm'; [net tr Y E]=train(net,input_n,target_n); % Simulation disp('Simulation Output for the given input'); simoutput=sim(net,input_n); [input_n ; simoutput]; %Output Normalized Version disp('Normalized Simulation Output'); Norm_input=mapminmax('reverse',input_n,input_n_struct); Norm_simoutput=mapminmax('reverse',simoutput',target_n_struct); %[Norm_input Norm_simoutput]; [Norm_input]; [Norm_simoutput] [target Norm_simoutput] % Calculating Mean Square Error perfmse=mse(E); fprintf('Mean Square Error:%d \n',perfmse);

ANSWER

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It looks like you are using an obsolete version of NEWFF where the first input is minmax(input_n) instead of input_n.

However, even the latest version of NEWFF is obsolete.

What version of MATLAB do you have? Type ver into the command lineThe current versions of MLP are

Regression/curve-fitting: FITNET(calls FEEDFORWARDNET) instead of NEWFIT(calls NEWFF) Classification/pattern-recognition: PATTERNNET(calls FEEDFORWARDNET)instead of NEWPR(calls FEEDFORWARDNET)

#assignment #programming #matlabsolutions #matlab assignment help

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i-am-rhysands-wingspan · 7 years

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Rowan or Rhysand

Who is the better singer? Rowan / Rhysand Who has the better ass? Rowan/ Rhysand Who has the better powers? Rowan/ Rhysand Who has the larger wingspan? Rowan/Rhysand Who suffered the most? Rowan/Rhysand Who is more tanner? Rowan/Rhysand Who is the better mate? Rowan/ Rhysand Who do you love more? Rowsand/ Rhysan

#acomaf #acotar #sarah j maas #throne of glass #empire of storms #tower of dawn #sjmaas #since you've been gone #shadowhunters

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rowingchat · 7 years

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How to find your Maximum Heart Rate for Rowing

How do I get my RP3 monitor to pick up a HR from my Garmin HR monitor reading? I can get the RP3 monitor display for HR, but no pulse! How do I synchronize the devices? Thank you!

Seems you need a Polar Bluetooth to sync with Android tablet. I have tried two different Polar models, one Garmin and a Suunto product. It seems to us that the Polar Bluetooth will do the trick.

Now, let’s talk about how to USE your HR data – Read this article about how low rate, steady state rowing makes you fast.

When you row at low rates like 18 and 20 strokes a minute you can perform for 30 to 40 minutes non-stop with a higher work output than you do on your Max 2km race.

Knowing your training zones based on heart rate data will help you ensure you are training effectively.

Your Maximum Heart Rate for Rowing

Knowing your maximum heart rate is the starting point for doing heart rate based training. Even if you you are not following a formal HR based plan, it can be useful to track HR statistics so you can keep track of training loads or to bore your spouse.

OK, the best place to start is by debunking this formula.

MaxHR = 220 – Age Don’t use this to figure out your maximum heart rate!

It’s wrong. A study looking at it in 2001 showed that even as a generalization, it’s wrong. The first problem is that the formula does not even fit the slope of the data. The study provided a handy revision which is, frankly, equally useless.

MaxHR = 208 – 0.7 x Age Don’t use this either!

Why is it useless? Because it has essentially no predictive value.

Different HR for different sports

One interesting factoid is that your maximum heart rate can be different for different sports because of body position, muscles used and other factors. So, doing this test on a treadmill is a good way to tell what your maximum heart rate is for race walking. We care about rowing, we care way too much about rowing, so it is better to measure your maximum heart rate on the rowing machine.

Creating a protocol for to use on an indoor rower very easy. So easy that the Australian Institute of Sport has done it for you in This Article link.

Heart Rate Step Test on Rowing Machine

The test is very simple. Based on your most recent 2K pace (or an estimate of it), you do seven 4 minute steps starting at a low power (slow pace) and increasing by a set number of watts for each step. You start recording your heart rate and you do the first 6 steps without a break and the sixth step is about 5 seconds slower than your 2k pace. After 24 minutes of rowing, that pace will feel pretty hard and your heart rate will be reasonably high.

At the end of the 6th step, you take a 1 minute rest and get ready for the fun part. At the end of the one minute rest, you do a racing start and row as fast as you can for four minutes. This step should be at or faster than your 2k pace. At the end of that step, you review your HR data for the highest value sustained for 5 seconds. Use that as your maximum heart rate.

Your maximum heart rate will not change much with training. If you do a ton of endurance training for long periods of time, your maximum heart rate may drop a couple of beats because the stroke volume of your heart gets much larger, but it won’t change much. What you might see, however, is that you discover that this initial measurement of your maximum heart rate is too low. It certainly was the case for me. As you do hard workouts, especially when you do a long time trials like a 6K, 30 minutes or 10K, you might see heart rates higher than what you measured in this test. If this happens, update your MaxHR with the new number.

This article comes from the Rowing Data Analysis blog on Rowsandall. Read the rest of the article including advice on

What to do with your MaxHR and RestHR

How to set training zones for yourself

The post How to find your Maximum Heart Rate for Rowing appeared first on Rowperfect UK.

Rowperfect weight adjustment question

2 new rowing books! On sale now.

from Rowperfect (On-Demand) http://ift.tt/2rqVaO4

#rowing #crew #rowperfect #Rowperfect (On-Demand)

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fantaseatrash · 7 years

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tags

Omf, so I was tagged by @snorkalypse, who made it known that I’ve been neglecting their blog (quote: bitch make yourself known on my blog reblog more shit)😂😂, so be prepared.

TIME FOR TRADITIONY SHIT. I’m tagging my most active followers for the week—feel free to play along or enjoy the shoutout. @lyssagrace so active. so loved. @illyriandream did you change your theme recently? I love it. @cruelwickedthing I have serious url envy. @trees-in-our-eyes hi, welcome, thanks for the support. I LOVE YOU ALL; YOU KEEP ME MOTIVATED.

Nickname: Some people call me Bambi—because I get all doe eyed when I’m surprised I guess. Also, at the time I earned the name, I was told I was like a baby deer—I’d be graceful someday, but not yet? Idk, @mom, am I graceful yet?

My mom sometimes calls me Bug.

Zodiac sign: Scorpio

Height: Doctors seem to be debating my height… I’m somewhere between 5’7” and 5’9”. That’s two whole inches they can’t agree on. If I was a penis, this would be a big deal???

Last thing I googled: images of “vagary,” for reasons.

Favorite music artist: Oh boy… Tall Heights, probably? Maybe Halsey?

(okay, so Spotify is saying my top artists are Halsey, Iron & Wine, Angus & Julia Stone, Tall Heights, Lucy Rose, and Alt-J)

Song stuck in my head: Horse to Water by Tall Heights

Last movie I watched: Still Arrival (I answered this question like a month ago… I haven’t watched a movie since).

What I’m wearing rn: Running shorts, athletic T, bare feet, my bed

Why the url: SJM is ruining my life.

Other blogs?: I just started one called @gif-cache, but it’s mostly where I’ll be storing gifs I find, so if you follow it, don’t expect much…

What did my last relationship teach me?: Like how intense am I supposed to get with this? Maybe that I don’t want kids??

Religious or Spiritual: I don’t think I’m very spiritual. Humanism appeals to me…

Average amount of sleep: Last night I got 12 hours of sleep, which is like double what I normally get.

Lucky number(s): My last fortune cookie said my lucky numbers are 03, 08, 15, 26, 33, 48. We will see.

Favorite character: Rowsand???

How many blankets do you sleep with?: Usually one, but my house is getting oddly cold…

Dream job: fuuuuuuuck I’m an adult. I should really figure this one out.

Alright. Thanks for reading this. Hope you enjoyed.

#personal #tags #questions

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amorecrea · 8 months

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A City Wife Dreams of Camp

Helen dreams of camp as a child asbeneath the moon a carnival in rowsand a nocturne of laughter ringsfrom the parking lot carnival shows,in the heart of the city, which some find whimsical. Like Cinderella, they dance in the carnival aschess is played by stars in the sky,A mastery of constellations up high.Helen dreams of camp as a child ascarnival magic transpires not lacking whimsical. In…

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#consraint #poetry #wopoli

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jamescallahansr · 1 year

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Idling…

I used to want a Taurus station wagon;don’t ask me why because I just did;the bulbous blob of 80’s style in all thosemuted tones of earthy colorationwrapped in my romantic recollection ofchildhood transportation completewith rows and rows of seats for rowsand rows of kids, now all mine, anidyllic lifestyle of contentedness andsatisfaction – it’s what I’d wanted;so imagine my surprise when idling…

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gemarckus-blog · 7 years

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There are four categories of application software:business, graphics and multimedia,home/personal/education, and communications.Probably the most well known business application is Microsoft Office, which includesword processing (Word), spreadsheet (Excel), Database (Access) and Presentationgraphics (PowerPoint).Word processing software creates text documents; from memos and letters to researchpapers – anything that requires “writing”.Documents can be easily modified; font style,size or color, paragraph style, word wrapping, spelling.You can move text, either aselection of words or entire sentences or paragraphs, and insert graphs, tables orpictures, among other things.Spreadsheets organize data (numbers) in columns and rows, and perform mathcalculations and functions (predefined formulas).Users can enter their own data in thespreadsheet, and the application can perform functions (apply formulas) to create newresults from the entered data, including graphs.Database software is similar to spreadsheets in that they contain tables (related rowsand columns) of data, but the difference is that a database allows for easy managementand retrieval of that data.Queries are run to extract data in presentable results, like ascreen shot or a report.Presentation Graphics is a effective visual aid to present data or ideas.Software willinclude predefined layouts for graphics like bar charts, pie charts or bullet point text.Each page is referred to as a slide.Slides can incorporate text, charts or pictures.

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lady-therion · 4 years

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Into the Deep [Nessian]

Summary: Nesta and Cassian go for a late night swim.

Post-ACOFAS. Slightly NSFW. Also, FLUFF.

A/N: Inspired by this lovely anon prompt: “Can you write a fan fic about nesta and cassian somehow ending up in a lake or a pond and them swimming together and playing with the water?” The answer is yes. Hell yes.

***

She’d been under too long.

Far too long for Cassian’s liking. So much so that he started to pace.

“Nesta,” he called. “Stop showing off. This isn’t a game.”

The irony of him saying those words aloud. To Nesta, of all people. Though to be fair, it did start out as a game. A dare. Something childish he would have goaded his brothers into doing. Who can hold their breath underwater the longest? Nesta surprised him by taking him up on the challenge. She had been doing that a lot lately: surprising him.

She surprised him when she said yes to coming to Illyria. She surprised him when, against all odds, she asked him how to throw a spear. She surprised him again when she told him that the Cauldron still called to her — and that the thought of being enslaved to that ancient and unfathomable power frightened her more than anything.

She surprised him most of all when she confessed that she felt more at home here, in the wilds and in his arms, than she ever did in Velaris. That he had been right. That the house, the apartment, the very city itself, was destroying her.

I was never meant for that life, she told him.

What do you think you’re meant for then?

This, she had told him, sweeping her hand toward the Steppes. And you.

That had been it for him. She had held his heart ever since. And he, in turn, held hers.

But that wouldn’t mean anything if he allowed his beloved to drown herself in a lake over a foolish dare.

Ever the romantic, he had brought her to this secluded place because it was known to be beautiful on moonlit nights. He had been shy in this pursuit, blustering to Nesta like a callow youth as he entreated her to come with him. He wanted to give her a proper courtship, as any honorable male would. It was the least of what she deserved.

She agreed, out of bemusement, if anything else. Who could have imagined that one of the most powerful Illyrians in history could be so...overwhelmed by a single woman? A woman that barely lived a breath in comparison to most Fae.

“Nesta,” he called again, strain creeping into his voice. How long had it been? Five minutes? Ten? It felt longer than that. Perhaps there was merblood running through her veins. Even so, the eldest Archeron was still not invincible. If she didn’t surface soon, he would drag her out himself.

As if she would actually let him.

But just as his heart began to pound, a ripple fanned out on the placid, mirror-like surface. Then another, and another. Until finally, Nesta herself emerged and joined him on the soft, grassy banks. The smugness on her face was more telling than a cat’s.

“Thirteen minutes,” she said, reveling in the fact that she could best him in this one, small thing. She could actually best him in many ways, especially as she was now: naked and wet and flush with triumph. Fire rose in his blood, as it always did whenever she was near. He enfolded her, pressed his bare chest to hers, marveling at the way her curves molded against him. Mine, mine, mine, his instincts whispered. All mine.

She seared his lips with a greedy kiss, as his fingers tugged at the ends of her soaked hair. He was enthralled by the strands of her hair, the pulse beating at her throat, the heat of her skin...

“I’m obviously furious with you,” he said, dragging his tongue over her collarbone.

“Spoil sport.”

The slight hitch in her breath made him tremble as he continued downward, past her hips, her thighs...The scent of her arousal thrilled him, made him hard with wanting. He hadn’t known, until now, what it meant to ache for another person. That he had been aching for her all along — one soul yearning to complete the other.

A cold splash and suddenly he was submerged neck-deep, sputtering out water as Nesta dove in after him, as smoothly as a pebble. Perhaps her ancestors were merfolk after all.

She kissed him again when she reappeared at his side, then plunged when he tried to reach for her. They played this game until, finally, he caught her around the waist, pressing her back to his front. For a moment, they just drifted there...alone, in the quiet. The hushed forest and the dark waters completing their peaceful tableau. Peace. How fragile it all was and how hard-won.

He traced a line down the slope of her neck with the tip of his nose, breathing her in. She leaned back, bared more of it for him. A vulnerable position for a Fae. It was a signal of how far they had come, and how much trust he had gained.

“It’s not like the last time,” she whispered.

The last time….

The last time they had been caught in such depths, he was half-dead and she was nearly so. He could remember the blood, her screams, his utter powerlessness to do anything. Terror flooded through him. Rage. Despair. All of his valiant promises shattered apart as the Cauldron swallowed her and her sister whole, forging them into something else.

The Carver had revealed the truth of it. With the last of his strength, Cassian had called to her, awakened her, tugged on that tenuous, spider-silk thread that wound through their souls. He had given just enough of himself that she was able to pull herself out by her teeth….

He tightened his embrace. “No, it’s not like the last time.”

Nor, he vowed, would it ever happen again. He would protect her even in death. For no matter what world they would venture into next, they would always meet here, somewhere in the deep.

***

Thank you for reading, loves.

Tagging these baes: @missing-merlin, @mariamuses, @jemma-nessian-and-elriel, @illyrianbeauty, @queenofillea1, @sunsummoner, @stardustsroses, @hikari274, @ashlightgrayson, @my-fan-side, @ame233, @sannelovesreading, @wearestarseternal, @moonbeammadness, @wolffrising, @a-trifling-matter , @writer-reader-traveller, @fucking-winchester-trash, @voiceoftheroses, @verifiefangirl, @maddieimhot, @awesomethreedragons, @fantasy-faes, @mydarlingwhitethorn, @thenameisjaida-blog, @leulivy, @managingmischief007, @goldbooksblack, @hashtolanashoba, @wewhohavefailed, @highladyjel, @nerdperson524, @sarcasticsashimi, @tswaney17, @acourtofrosesandbooks, @rowanismybae, @starlightheir, @city-of-fae, @arwenbk3, @aelins-fire-queen, @azriels-forgotten-shadow, @abillionlittlepieces, @rairrai, @maastrash @sarahjtrash, @tea-drinker25, @court-of-fandoms-and-art, @soitsgorgeous, @feyaelin-rowsand, @dreamerforever-5, @mightymorphingayagenda, @featherymalignancy, @elide-lochan-salvaterre, @lilithsaur, @keshavomit, @ness-archeron, @court-of-fuck-me-daddy, @dusty-lightbulb, @velarian-trash, @tntwme, @candid-confetti, @dreamilyzealousbird, @empress-ofbloodshed, @sezkins79, @mydarlingrhys, @queenofthecrochans, @highlady-brittney, @fangirlingdweeb, @ladynestaarcheron, @i-darkling, @stars-falling, @nuclearplanets, @welcometothespeaknowworldtour, @regolithheart, @sopsopart, @musicmaam, @sleeping-and-books, @justgiu12, @tryingtokeeptrying

Send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged, untagged, or I forgot you because of a silly mistake.

Check out my full Masterlist in my Bio / I am Lady_Therion on AO3

#nessian #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas

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lady-therion · 4 years

Note

Elriel prompt: “Dandelions ARE weeds” (In light of spring and how those yellow monsters are coming to plague us ALL)

A/N: I decided that I wanted to cut out hearts today. Slightly NSFW.

***

With You, in the Shadows

***

Elain knows that her lover can be cold.

Colder than the unforgiving winters spent in her father’s cottage. Colder than the unfathomable depths of the Cauldron. Colder than death. For even death can be merciful and Azriel is not. She knows that he’s not.

But she lies with him anyway. He may be as sharp as a dagger’s edge, but he has always been soft with her. His family.

“You’re a gleam in the dark,” he told her one night, driving into her body at a slow and torturous pace. He consumed her, devoured her, engraved every sigh and scream into his memory. When it comes to her pleasure, Azriel is attentive, precise. “I will never stop craving you.”

It’s true. He never did.

But for all his boundless devotion, his hatred is immutable; as much a part of him as his shadows are. He hides it well. He’s had centuries of practice. To enemies, it appears as a mask of civility and decorum. In fact, the angrier he grew, the more charming his mask became. The time to truly fear him is not when he snarls or clenches his fist. It’s when he greets you with a courtier’s smile and a deferential bow. Elain knows this because she wore that mask too, once upon a time. In ballrooms, in dining halls, in champagne parlors. It is the perfect tool for a spymaster to trap unwitting flies.

Though what Azriel could conceal from others, he could not do so with her. They share no bond. They share something else — she is the only living being who can hear the song of his shadows.

Today that song is filled with discord. So when she finds him in their garden, still as a statue, she bids him to lie in the grass and place his head on her lap. Then she smooths over his hair until he thaws.

Then he thaws.

“My father’s wife did not keep a garden,” he tells her, slowly.

His father’s wife, she thought, the woman who kept him locked away because she abhorred his mother.

“When I was…released for the day, they would take me in chains to stand in a stone courtyard. I yearned to see the sun, just as I yearn to see you.” He twists a lock of her hair around his fingers. “Besides that, I saw dandelions growing through the rock. Green and growing things did not thrive in my cell. So I did not know what they were, at first. I asked my half-brothers if they were flowers.” He paused. “Then they told me no, they were dandelions. They are weeds, and are unwanted. Just like you.”

Elain does not offer him platitudes or pity. She knows this is not what he needs. No, what her beloved needs is for someone to see his pain, to honor it, and know that it will be with him forever. Just like his scars.

“I had a childish wish that I could be like those dandelions. To be able to drift away, somewhere else on the wind.” He closes his eyes when she leans down to kiss him. I’m here, her kiss says. I’m with you.

“Elain,” he whispers, like a prayer. “Why do you stay?”

He asks her this from time to time, especially when he feels melancholy.

Because she had once been a fixture in those glittering and golden worlds, and found them false and wanting. Because she had once put her faith in a man who would rather cherish his self-righteousness than cherish her as a wife. Because she had fallen in love with the darkness, as her younger sister did, and realized that she had never felt safer than in the arms of the abyss.

“Because I would rather be here with you, in the shadows.”

***

Thanks for reading, loves.

And thanks for the prompts ;)

Got quite a few requests to be tagged in the drabbles too, so (retroactively) tagging these baes: @illyrianbeauty, @sunsummoner, @tessas-herondales, @jemma-nessian-and-elriel, @abillionlittlepieces, @tntwme, @rosehallshadowsinger, @maastrash, @julesherondalex, @wolffrising, @stardustsroses, @voiceoftheroses, @katexrenee, @highlady-brittney, @goldbooksblack, @mariamuses, @alexisnm95, @tswaney17, @rowanismybae, @elide-lochan-salvaterre @ourbooksuniverse, @cruelwickedthing, @shadowazriel, @a-trifling-matter, @kaliejane26, @wewhohavefailed, @elide-lochan-salvaterre, @empress-ofbloodshed, @lordof-bloodshed, @katshrev, @writer-reader-traveller, @whyyoumakemesadstahp, @captain-timetraveldreamer, @awesomethreedragons, @escapingtheconstrictingboxes, @thenameisjaida-blog, @moonbeammadness, @leulivy, @fantasy-faes, @poisonwhiterose, @fucking-winchester-trash, @maddieimhot, @ame233, @xinyourdreamsx, @feyaelin-rowsand, @queenofillea1, @rosalesgold, @aelins-fire-queen, @rhysanoodle, @dreamerforever-5, @ben-roll-io, @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary, @hope-unswervingly, @illyriangarbage, @feysand-dot-acotar, @faequeenaelin, @illyrian-bookworm, @propagandaprincess, @musicmaam, @velarian-trash, @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn, @featherymalignancy, @thesirenwashere, @tryingtokeeptrying, @stars-falling

Send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged, untagged, or I forgot you because of a silly mistake.

Check out my full Masterlist in my Bio / I am Lady_Therion on AO3

#elriel #elriel fic #elriel angst #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #azriel #elain archeron #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #prompts

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lady-therion · 5 years

Note

a prompt for elriel could be florist elain x part timer azriel ! elain needs help with her flower shop and at the right moment azriel comes around in need of a job and a temporary place to stay(; !

A/N: What a sweet prompt, anon!

***

Boys and Flowers

***

Elain knows that flowers aren’t permanent.

They grow and they die. Then, they do it all over again, season by season. Here’s the real magic: You never encounter the same flower twice. Each one is unique, not unlike people.

Elain knows that people aren’t permanent either.

Take Graysen. Or rather, let’s not. Elain’s memories of him are oil-dark and bitter. In the morning, she opens her planner and marks down the number of days since “the unspeakable incident.” Today’s tally is 43. In the margins, she writes, “I’m not numb anymore. Just sad.” Which is progress. Feyre would throw her a party. Nesta would buy her a drink.

But neither of her sisters are here. They are far away in a different state, still wondering about Elain’s decision to move and open her own flower shop. They ask a lot of sensible questions: Why open a small business in this economy? Why not just work for a local florist? What are you going to do about rent?

It’s fair for them to worry. Money is a sore subject in their family. But Elain stands by her decision. The reason for leaving is simple: She’s tired of playing a role in someone else’s story. Here, in a town where almost no one knows her, she has the space to learn what her story is really about.

All her life, Elain has been waiting to meet herself.

Now she’s got her chance.

On a less philosophical note, her sisters are still right about money. Business is good, but she’s been having trouble keeping up with orders, which has been eating away at her bottom line. Her inbox is a disappointment. There are no applications for a potential assistant. Location is probably an issue. Her flower shop isn’t by any convenient public transit.

She chews her lip; a bad habit. What would she do if she couldn’t reach a sustainable quota? Her savings are fine, but they can only get her so far. Would she need to take out a loan? Could she even afford the interest? How long would it be before she goes into the red…?

A swift knock at the door interrupts her downward spiral. Elain freezes. There’s only one person in this town who actually comes to visit.

Over Zoom, Feyre calls him “the sexy neighbor.”

Nesta calls him “the nuisance.”

Elain just knows him as Azriel.

He lives in the apartment next door. The first time they met was over a noise complaint; her noise complaint. Azriel himself isn’t particularly loud. But his lady friends? Just thinking about the sounds they made caused the blood rush to her cheeks (and other places).

Obviously, Azriel is very generous in that area.

But generous or not, Elain wasn’t about to lose any more sleep.

Hi, I’m Elain. Your new neighbor.

Ah. I’m Azriel. A pleasure.

Right…pleasure.

How are you liking the new —?

— Did you know our bedrooms share the same very thin wall?

I….what…?

Did she regret bringing it up so abruptly? Yes. But constant sleep deprivation had already frayed her patience. It didn’t matter that Azriel literally looked like one of those Greek statues on display at the Louvre. It didn’t matter that he had eyes and tattoos and muscles that could stop traffic.

Elain may have lost her way in a lot of things.

But she did not lose her manners.

And she would absolutely hold her neighbors to the same standard.

She can remember how Azriel blushed to the tips of his ears as he stammered an apology. The next day, there was a bouquet of flowers left on her doorstep (and a pair of ear plugs, the scoundrel). But after that, there were no more lady friends (that she could hear, anyway, with or without the ear plugs).

As part of their truce, they would invite each other over for brunch at least once a week. It gives Elain something to look forward to. Especially since she still hasn’t met anyone else here.

Besides, she finds his presence soothing. He doesn’t ask her too many questions. She doesn’t ask him in turn. Elain gets the sense that they’re both living from moment to moment. Or that they’re both running from something that they can’t give voice to. Maybe someday, they would.

Azriel’s broody eyes gleam when she opens the door.

And no, it does not make her heart race. It does not.

“Elain.”

He never says “hey” or “hi there” when he sees her. He just says her name, then smiles. Not a toothpaste commercial smile either. His smiles are quiet and tentative things, like he isn’t used to doing them often. That he would always make an effort for her in this way brings her inexplicable joy. Like watching the sun suddenly appear on a gray afternoon.

“Want some coffee?”

“I’m getting evicted.”

Elain’s heart drops to her feet. She opens the door a little wider. “Want something a little stronger?”

***

Turns out their landlord is a jerk.

“So you were dating his ex?”

Azriel drains his glass. “Dating is kind of a strong word.”

“Hn.” Well, who is Elain to judge? “That doesn’t really seem like grounds to evict someone.” In fact, Elain is pretty sure that whatever’s going on is illegal. She thinks about calling her father. Being a businessman himself, he could probably put Azriel in touch with a good lawyer.

Azriel waves away her offer. “It was bound to happen anyway. People are petty. And cruel.”

Elain thinks of Graysen. She thinks about the scars on Azriel’s hands. The scars they never talk about. Yes, people can be cruel. But people can also be kind. The fact that Azriel takes the worst of humanity for granted saddens her more than anything else.

She doesn’t want to lose him as her neighbor.

“Where will you go?”

“I could move in with one of my brothers for a while.” He tells her where they live. Her anxiety deepens. They’re just as far away as her sisters. “I don’t want to bother you with this either, but some of my contracts fell through. Even if I could stay here, I wouldn’t be able to make the rent.”

Elain swallows. There are moments in life that one calls turning points. Turn one way, it will become this. Turn another way, and it will become that. There is no way to tell which path is the right choice. But although Elain isn’t blessed with future sight, she is blessed with a sense of indomitable compassion.

She proposes a plan.

“What?”

“You can live here,” she says again.

The silence that follows could rival graveyards. “Elain…I can’t do that. How would I pay you?”

She tells him about the shop.

“I don’t know anything about flowers.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“Elain —”

“It’s temporary,” she insists. It’s a good thing all Archerons were born with an iron-clad persistence gene. “You can stay in the spare bedroom until you figure out your next move.” When he doesn’t say anything else, she adds, “You won’t be freeloading. You’ll be helping me out. I can’t fulfill as many orders without an assistant.”

“I…don’t you think it’ll be weird? Sharing a space?”

“On my life, I promise to keep your virtue intact,” she deadpans.

Azriel laughs. A deep, deep sound that comes from his belly. It is, quite literally, the most glorious thing Elain ever heard.

“Thank you,” he says. “This is….I can’t even describe how gracious this is.”

Elain’s body does not at all respond to this compliment in a tingly, somersault-y, or gushy way. Nope, that rush of happy warmth is probably something else. The sign of early menopause, perhaps. She should see a doctor.

“So it’s a deal?” She sticks out her hand.

Azriel’s hazel eyes light with something she can’t describe. He reaches out to lace his ruined fingers with hers, every mark and ridge a map to something that Elain feels intent to discover.

“It’s a deal.”

***

Thank you for reading, loves.

Tagging these baes: @illyrianbeauty, @sunsummoner, @tessas-herondales, @jemma-nessian-and-elriel, @abillionlittlepieces, @tntwme, @rosehallshadowsinger, @maastrash, @julesherondalex, @wolffrising, @stardustsroses, @voiceoftheroses, @katexrenee, @highlady-brittney, @goldbooksblack, @mariamuses, @alexisnm95, @tswaney17, @rowanismybae, @elide-lochan-salvaterre @ourbooksuniverse, @cruelwickedthing, @shadowazriel, @a-trifling-matter, @kaliejane26, @wewhohavefailed, @elide-lochan-salvaterre, @empress-ofbloodshed, @lordof-bloodshed, @katshrev, @writer-reader-traveller, @whyyoumakemesadstahp, @captain-timetraveldreamer, @awesomethreedragons, @escapingtheconstrictingboxes, @thenameisjaida-blog, @moonbeammadness, @leulivy, @fantasy-faes, @poisonwhiterose, @fucking-winchester-trash, @maddieimhot@ame233, @xinyourdreamsx, @feyaelin-rowsand, @queenofillea1, @rosalesgold, @aelins-fire-queen, @rhysanoodle, @dreamerforever-5, @ben-roll-io, @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary, @hope-unswervingly, @illyriangarbage, @feysand-dot-acotar, @faequeenaelin, @illyrian-bookworm, @propagandaprincess, @musicmaam, @velarian-trash, @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn, @featherymalignancy

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lady-therion · 5 years

Note

A modern day Elriel wedding where they run away to a little church to get married because everyone is putting too much pressure on them about their wedding that has to be perfect

A/N: This one turned out so sugary that I’ll have to schedule a dentist appt. ;)

***

Somewhere Only We Know

***

The Church of Little Ways still stands.

Its original name was St. Therese, the Little Flower. But over time, it became Little Ways. Although it closed its doors to parishioners years ago, no one had the heart to tear it down. In fact, the locals still tend the vegetable garden that grows beside it.

Elain is one of those locals. She comes here on weekends to check on the beets and the radishes and the cabbages. But today, her visit is unexpected. Today, she has come here to hide from the world — or more specifically, her family.

“There you are.”

A long shadow stretches across the blooming marigolds. Marigolds are good for discouraging pests, but Elain welcomes the presence of her fiance, Azriel, with open arms and a deep kiss. They drink each other in as the twilight fades around them. Their lips and fingers explore all their favorite places…

Azriel has always been very unselfish with her in this regard. He lets her take the lead. He indulges her when she wants more. And she always wants more. But right now, she lets their kiss simmer; a flame as soft and sweet as their childhood.

Soon, the fireflies would be out, drifting along the tall grass, lighting the way home. Elain and Azriel used to catch them when they were young. They would stay up long into the night until her father called them both from the porch.

“Let’s go inside” he asks, tugging at the end of her ear with his teeth. He’s in a playful mood and it makes her shiver with anticipation for later.

“Feeling nostalgic?”

“A little,” he says. Then he leads her into the church, past the caution tape at the front doors.

Inside, the church is hushed and reverent. A fine layer of dust coats the hardwood pews. Dried flowers are placed at the foot of the altar where the two of them stand. Azriel loops his arms around her shoulders, seeking her scent and reassurance.

Elain understands why: This is the place where she found him all those years ago. He’d been just a little boy then. Lonely and scared and very, very hurt. So she brought him home with her and they had never parted since.

“We should get married here,” she says. Their siblings would murder them for not having the wedding of the century like they wanted, but who cares? They’d forgive them.They always did.

“We should get married now,” he says.

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m dead serious,” he says. “Remember when we were seven and we played pretend at getting married here after Sunday school?”

She laughs. “I remember saying that I’d be with you forever and that I’d always share my buttermilk biscuits.”

“Well…does that promise still stand?”

Elain hates how he braces himself as though she’d say no. “It does. But I think the buttermilk biscuits are off the table now that I’ve taught you how to make your own.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not. But I wouldn’t worry about it,” she says, shifting so that she could nuzzle his neck. “I’ve got something much, much better than buttermilk biscuits in store for you…”

***

Thanks for reading, loves.

And thanks for the prompts ;)

Send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged, untagged, or I forgot you because of a silly mistake.

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#elriel #elain x azriel #elriel fic #elriel fluff #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #prompts

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