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#this is the ACOTAR AU preview
stormhearty · 3 months
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✨ pairings: Eris x Reader x Azriel (ft. Cassian)
🔮 preview: Everything about the three of you was very opposite — you were a pastel princess, while the two were dark macabre. And yet the three of you melded together like a melting pot. Eris and Azriel adore their little princess — and would do anything to make you happy — whether it be distracting you from the voices in your head to killing a boy who looked at you a little too long.
📣 trigger warnings: mentions of blood and killing, Azriel and Eris being overly touchy with our reader, short skirts, corsets, mentions of sex (kind of explicit), pet names: my morose, my darling, sweet angel, temptation (Azriel and Eris to (Y/N)), mia cara (Azriel to Eris), mon cher (Eris to Azriel)
🔎 rating: PG-13 | 🔏 word count: 3.5k
💜 masterlist + notes: Like… I love dark gothic and the Addams family is so iconic, love them. So… Why not do an Addams Family AU x ACOTAR with our favorite boys Eris and Azriel? They would be gorgeous in macabre — like Eris giving me Morticia vibes, elegant but ruthless while Azriel is big Gomez vibes with the pinstripe suit and cigar in between his fingers; both wearing black, all the while reader being this pastel princess in bright pastels and pinks. Ugh, such a vibe. I’ve never written a bratty reader before. And thank you to @prythianpages (and sorry Hope! I couldn’t do the FIRE OF MY LOINS” as much as I love it LMAO) and @dawneternal for suggestions for the nicknames for (Y/N)!! This fic has a bunch of sexual tension and dark intentions, I hope I portray it correctly. I hope you enjoy it.
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A long sigh escaped your lips, eyes staring into the hearth across the room, your eyes distant and your mind racing — a normal occurrence for you. It seemed as if your mind never calmed; voices echoed in your head, real and from beyond the grave — a silly power of clairaudience. You didn’t know what to focus on — you didn’t even know if the thoughts in your head were yours anymore and you often were found like this, staring into space, eyes unfocused.
You arrived at the spooky hilltop house not too long ago, stepping through the large wooden doors and going through familiar halls and doorways to your favorite little nook in the whole house: a simple overgrown sunroom.
Flopping down on the familiar black gothic couch, you laid perpendicular, body facing the glass ceiling, legs slung over the back of the couch. The hearth across from you roared to life as if the house knew you were home, and that thought made you smile softly. Eyes wandered around you, spotting a familiar book on the side table. You immediately recognized whose book it was — Eris’s. That man loved a good Edgar Allen Poe book, and always seemed to carry one around in his large lithe hands.
Attempting to be as graceful as your lover, you plucked the book from its place, opening the book to read a page of poetry, in an attempt to drown out the voices in your head; however, your mind continued to race, the voices in your head relentless with whispered words.
That lady down the hill… she kept saying…
The girls at work called you —-
People think you’re nothing but a —-
With a frustrated groan, you threw the thick book across the room, hearing the loud thud as it landed a few inches from the fiery hearth. A pout tugged at the edge of your pink-stained lips, eyes shifting from the faced-down book and focusing on the movement of the fire, another attempt to muffle the voices in your head.
Azriel heard the loud thud from the grand staircase and he couldn’t help but raise a brow at the sound. His shadows zoomed from underneath his feet, guiding him towards the familiar sunroom, quiet footsteps following their trail. He saw familiar pale legs slung over the black couch, feet bound in pink lolita heels, topped off with a pretty bow, and calves covered in white lace leggings.
(Y/N).
He wasn’t aware that you had arrived home, not even his shadows were aware. Usually, you would parade yourself throughout the whole house — practically announcing your presence to your lovers. But the fact that you had arrived at the house, both he and his husband were not aware of your presence in the large house made his heart feel unsettled.
Cradling a glass of wine in his hand, he summoned his shadows back to him as he walked over to the large carved archway and leaned against it, eyes shifting up from your feet to your legs, and just a bit over your knees, before noticing the discarded book near the hearth.
“Sweet angel?” he called your nickname and watched as your head popped up, eyes focusing on him and a delicate hand giving him a little wave from your position. He could tell you were too lazy to shift yourself into a proper position; however, he did not mind at all.
He got to see a gorgeous view of your tempting legs.
Though he was quite sure Eris would have a few words about it.
You laid your head back down, head hanging from the edge of the couch, and focused back on the hearth. As much as you loved being around your lovers, your head was far too occupied and all you could focus was on those damned voices.
You didn’t even hear Azriel’s footsteps grow closer to you, didn’t hear the gentle clink of the wine glass being placed down on the marble side table where the book had laid earlier. But when you felt cold hands on your knees, you were brought back from your thoughts and looked up at your lover, a worried gaze hidden deep in cobalt hues. His hands ran up your thighs, fingers touching the edge of your white tennis skirt, gently squeezing your naked thighs in his grasp.
You shivered at his touches, eyes fluttering close and a deep chuckle vibrated through Azriel — his voice always made your body tingle in the right ways.
But what you were grateful for the most was that when Azriel touched you, the voices in your head stopped — silence finally taking over your brain. And you let out a relaxed sigh, your body becoming putty on the couch, your head slacking over the edge of the couch.
Azriel recognized that sigh and couldn’t help but coo, fingers continuing to massage your thighs, his shadows slithering from underneath his fingertips to crawl over your skin, as his eyes looked over your outfit. You were dressed in a pretty white ensemble with hints of pink — a short skirt that stopped above your thighs and an intricate floral corset that hugged your curves in all the right ways. Due to your position, your skirt bunched a bit higher on your thighs, showing the juncture between your legs, with a tiny peek of your pristine white underwear, where he noticed tiny pink bows at the bottom seam. Azriel wasn’t sure whether you were trying to seduce him, but he knew from that sigh that you weren’t overtly trying to seduce him.
Your brain had just been in overdrive because of your powers.
His eyes traveled from the column of your neck to your face — one full of content and relief. Azriel was glad that he could keep you at peace, he knew how awful your powers could become when your mind was overwhelmed with voices. You had always told him and Eris that their touches were the only thing that kept the voices at bay — and they didn’t mind, they loved touching you — whether it be in the most sinful ways or the most innocent ways … but both opt for the former.
“You feeling better, sweet angel?” he murmured, his voice soft and gentle, not wanting you to be overwhelmed by your senses. He watched as his shadows slithered over your outfit and your skin and your body shivered again.
You nodded, a soft hum escaping your throat as your eyes fluttered back open to look up at him. You focused on his touch, focused on those tendrils of shadow — feeling those calloused and scarred hands squeezing and rubbing your flesh. His hands and shadows were nice and cold against your normally warm skin.
It helped calm your racing mind from those pesky voices that bothered you throughout the day.
Eyes locked onto cobalt hues and he gave you a soft smile, his hands sliding up your sides before grasping your upper back and heaving you up. A squeal escaped your lips as you were brought up to sit at the top of the couch, arms wrapping around Azriel’s strong shoulders as his hands slid to wrap around your waist, keeping you steady.
“There’s my sweet girl…” Azriel murmured, pressing a kiss on your cheek and you giggled, smelling the fruity taste of the alcohol he was drinking in his breath.
“Hi, Azzie…” you greeted him with a smile, snuggling your cheek against his own.
“You scared me for a moment, I didn’t even know you were home…” he hummed out, fingers slipping underneath the lace of your corset, tugging them to free you from the bindings.
A sigh escaped your lips and rested your cheek on his shoulder, just savoring his touches, savoring the silence of your head — focusing on your lover.
“…I’m sorry, Azzie…” you murmured, “My head was too much, I just wanted the voices to stop…”
“—-Is that why Eris’s book is on the floor, darling?” he asked with a chuckle, pressing a kiss on your shoulder as his eyes went back onto the book on the ground. He should pick it up and place it where it belongs — he didn’t want his husband’s favorite book to be burnt.
But he couldn’t be bothered at the moment — not when his favorite girl was in his arms. And he wasn’t mad — how could he be with his darling? He knew you were trying to distract yourself but it wasn’t proper etiquette to be throwing things in the house.
“Did you have a tiny tantrum?”
You pouted, bottom lip shaking a bit. You didn’t like throwing tantrums, and most of the time it wasn’t; however, you were just so frustrated with the voices you just threw the book.
You didn’t mean it.
“I’m a good girl, Azzie… Always have been…” you muttered.
Azriel chuckled again at your statement, soothingly rubbing your back.
Yes, you had always been a good girl — their good girl.
Before he could retort that statement, he heard familiar footsteps behind him, his shadows slinking back into his form. Azriel didn’t need to look behind him — he knew those foosteps like the back of his hand, “Do you think (Y/N)’s been a good girl, mia cara?”
You blinked momentarily and looked behind him to see Eris stepping into the room, dressed to the nines — a red vest over a pristine white see-through shirt and simple black slacks. You loved how opposite the two men could be — Azriel in his blue and black ensemble and Eris always in some red hue.
The redhead walked over, standing next to his husband as a hum escaped his lips, looking over your outfit.
Much like Azriel, as much as they adored you in black — what they had dubbed family colors — Eris loved you in your pink and white outfits, you were like a candy waiting to be eaten.
But mind out of the gutter, amber hues noticed the discarded book near the hearth and he couldn’t help but raise a brow. That wasn’t where he had left his favorite poetry book. It didn’t take long for the male to connect the dots — the discarded book to the question.
Eris gave a low chuckle, reaching over to run long fingers through your hair, tugging the pretty little pink headband, and watching it drop onto the couch. He smoothed your hair down over your back before he opted to grasp your hips, squeezing them as he stepped closer to you, feeling his husband step to the side to give him room.
“Seeing my book haphazardly on the floor tells me she hasn’t been a good girl, mon cher…” he answered, his breath over your features.
You could smell and taste the hint of rose tea in his breath and you couldn’t help but lick your lower lips on how alluring Eris was — well practically the both of them were. The way they stood next to each other was practically a painting made by the Gods and you were a mere mortal gazing up at their etherealness. You didn’t even care that Eris had voiced you weren’t a good girl — your mind had fogged up too quickly at the sight of your beautiful lovers, that you spaced out, staring up at them with wide-doll-like eyes that both your lovers couldn’t help but chuckle on how innocent you looked.
“My morose?” Eris whispered your beloved nickname. That snapped your attention back up at him, your head tilting. It took a moment for your mind to catch up the fog slowly dissipating.
You blinked twice before you pouted, “I have been a good girl, Eris…” you whined softly, a hand unwrapping from Azriel’s shoulder to place on Eris’s muscular upper arms, well-manicured nails gently scraping the sheer fabric, “My head had too many voices, they wouldn’t shut up… I tried to distract myself with your book and well —-”
Looking over your shoulder and focused on the book on the ground, teeth biting into your lower lip before you looked back up at your two lovers through your lashes, “…I didn’t mean to throw it to the ground, Eris… I needed a distraction…”
“And you didn’t bother looking for me or Azriel to help distract you, my morose?” Eris questioned, his voice stern yet soft, understanding why you had done that.
“I didn’t even know she was here, mia cara…” Azriel informed his husband, his hand still playing with the straps of your lace.
Eris furrowed his brows as he looked down at you — it was very unlike you to be quiet with your entry. He knew something was up — and from what he could guess, it was due to being overstimulated with your powers.
You pouted again, eyes averting their gaze as your hands slipped from their respected position on both men to play with the lapels of their outfits, “…I didn’t want to bother either of you. And my mind was just… preoccupied by the stupid voices. I didn’t want either of you to get mad too because I was so frustrated…”
You heard Eris sigh and his free hand that was not occupied with your waist, which was now joining his husband’s on your back with undoing your laces, gently grasped your chin to force you to look back up at them.
“We would never get mad at you for seeking us out to help calm your mind, my darling…” he whispered, his lips hovering over yours, “You know that we like helping you, making you feel calm and making those voices stop… What we don’t like is you trying to solve your problem by yourself… Do you understand?”
You nodded and tilted your head up to gently capture your lover’s lips — it was your way of apologizing to both of them.
Eris chuckled into the kiss, the hand on your chin moved to cup the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. All the while, Azriel had finished untying the laces and tugging the corset off of you, leaving your top half bare. You shivered as the cold air of the house prickled your skin, and it didn’t help that both of your lover’s hands immediately cupped your breast, their cold fingers teasing flesh, leaving goosebumps along their wake.
A long whine escaped your lips as your head tilted back from the kiss, mouth a gape as the men decided to lean in and press kisses on either side of your neck, their lips pressed against your pulse point.
“Since you need a distraction, our sweet temptation, we can offer our full attention…” Eris teased.
Azriel chuckled against your skin, teeth going in to bite the junction of your neck and shoulders, while Eris’s hand shifted from the back of your neck to slide to your front and down the length of your body to slip underneath that damned tennis skirt.
And when fingers pressed against your covered core it left you mewling and absolute putty in their hands.
Oh, how Azriel and Eris loved distracting you, leaving your mind empty and wanting — much like the good girl you begged them you were.
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“You know you didn't have to pick me up…” you commented, though you couldn't help but be giddy that both of your lovers opted to pick you up from your little hang-out with your friends.
Azriel and Eris were leaning against the black Hearse — Azriel puffing out a cloud of smoke, a lit cigar between his fingers; Eris held a parasol, shielding himself from the sun. The two men were very stoic but immediately softened at the sight of you practically skipping towards them.
Eris cooed and opened his arms, and you hopped into them, arms wrapping around his waist while his free hand tangled into your locks, lips brushing at the crown of your head.
The two of you were lost in hushed whispers — mostly Eris asking how your little hang out and if you had fun — while Azriel just watched with a fond smile on his features. Two of his favorite and most beloved people — right there.
Cobalt hues shifted from the two of you towards the group of friends that you hung out with today. Azriel knew — oh how he knew — that your so-called friends weren’t too fond of you.
Even now he could hear them whispering how strange you were for being part of a throuple. Eyes wandering your form that was practically engulfed by Eris’s large form. And when those judgmental eyes caught with his own, Azriel glared at them and watched them scamper off in fear — all except one.
A boy whose eyes were not on him — but on you. One full of lust and want, a look that Azriel didn't like. He watched those lecherous gazes run up and down your form, the boy’s tongue sticking out to lick his lower lip.
How absolutely disgusting.
Azriel grunted softly, displeased with the development of the day. He wasn’t too fond of lingering gazes your way — his precious angel, being ogled at from afar, especially in such a lewd way. At the grunt from his husband, Eris’s amber hues looked up in a questioning gaze. Azriel didn’t need to glance at his husband, didn’t need to communicate verbally, his gaze said everything Eris needed to know.
Eris’s lips did not move from the crown of your head, his movement inconspicuous to you who was babbling on how your day went. When amber eyes glanced at where his husband was looking at with a cold gaze, Eris felt his chest roar with fire.
Eris gently pulled away, lifting your chin so he could press a kiss on your lips, feeling your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck. You were so lost in the kiss that you did not realize that what your lover was doing was a distraction.
Azriel sent his shadows forth, watching them skim across the concrete toward the boy, who feebly tried to run away from them. Before a yell could escape his lips, the shadows consumed him, making him disappear into thin air.
Only Azriel and Eris knew where the shadows would have brought him.
Eris hummed into the kiss, pleased with what his husband did before pulling away from the kiss, amber hues looking over your spaced-out look. How adorable were you. “Time to go home, my morose… The pups are in the back waiting for you…” he said with a smirk.
He watched you return to Earth, hearing how the hounds were in the back seat, and he let you scramble out of his hold and hop into the back seats, where the two large black hounds greeted you with face licks, you squeal in delight as you closed the door behind you.
“Will you be joining us later, mon cher?” Eris mumbled, knowing exactly where his husband would be later that evening.
Azriel let out a deep chuckle, leaning over to kiss him briefly, “Keep our girl preoccupied… I’ll be there as soon as possible… Oh, and make sure you make her moan loud, I would love to hear how well you take her from the cellar…”
Eris smirked, opened the passenger seat, and slipped in, allowing Azriel to close the door. Ensuring his husband was safely inside, Azriel made his way to the driver seat and drove home — the unwanted guest in the depths of the cellar was waiting for Azriel.
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“Doesn't she sound exquisite?” Azriel muttered, head tilted back towards the ceiling, listening to the loud moans and whines that came from the floors above — the sounds practically echoing around them. A pleased sigh escaped his lips before those brows furrowed and looked down at the bloody mess of the room — body parts slewn all over the floor, blood seeping into the concrete wall.
Cobalt hues looked his way and the large bulky man stepped from the shadows, “You know what to do with the body, Cassian…” the male muttered, rolling up his blood-stained sleeves, shoulders rolling back and a sigh escaping his lips.
The large man gave a graceful bow of his head, watching the head of the family turn his heels and head up the winding stairs back up to the main floor.
Cassian was the long-time family butler, large and menacing, he fit well within the weird and strange macabre family. He was used to the bloodthirsty and morbid ways of this family, nothing phased him.
Especially when it came to Azriel and Eris's sweet angel.
Cassian quickly realized that his masters would do practically anything for the girl that caught their eye.
Especially murder.
This wasn't the first time Azriel or Eris had opted to dismember a member of society for (Y/N)… there were far too many people to count at this point for the butler.
And no one would suspect his masters — they were to quick and clean, and his job? Was making sure that evidence was erased, especially after situations like this.
With bleach and cold water in each large hand, he started to clean the cellar, packing each body part into a separate bag — where he'd feed it to the carnivorous plants that Eris loved taking care of.
They do enjoy it when they are fed humans.
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👑 General Tag List: @prythianpages . @strangelygreat . @honeybeeboobaa . @pit-and-the-pen
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praetorqueenreyna · 9 months
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For our little ACOTAR gift exchange! This is a gift fic for @taymartiart, who is one of the BEST artists I've ever met! When asked what she wanted me to write, she said "accidental dick pic." This was so much fun, I love silly modern AUs! Enjoy!
Read here on AO3, or continue reading below:
Rhysand was about ready to silence his phone for the evening. It had been pinging non-stop as war raged on in the group chat. It had started with Mor saying she was craving a sparkling water, and Cassian replying to ask why she liked drinking raw sewage. That had been two hours ago, long past the point that Rhysand thought it was funny. He had also found Amren’s threat to murder Cassian by replacing his blood with sparkling water a little alarming.
There were a few minutes of peace where his phone made no noise at all. The reprieve was interrupted by a lone ding. Rhysand sighed, fully expecting the barrage to begin once again. When it didn’t, he risked actually checking his phone. The text was not from the group chat (ironically named “The Inner Circle” after Mor got way too into mafia movies, and Rhysand didn’t know how to change it), but was from Tamlin. It was a welcome distraction. Tamlin was a little weird, but Rhysand liked him. They had both started off as their fathers’ proteges, expected to take on the family business. Rhysand had fulfilled his end of the bargain, and Tamlin had run off to play guitar in coffee shops around town. An absolutely ridiculous career move, but it was endearing, in its own way.
It didn’t hurt that Tamlin was super hot and also into guys. Rhysand wasn’t too proud to admit that. He had tested the waters, putting on his most seductive voice to tease Tamlin, always just on the edge of outright flirtation. Every time, Tamlin turned a splotchy red and adorably ducked his head, which only made Rhysand want to do it again.
There was no text preview for the message; it only had an attached image. Rhysand opened it and blinked. He had worked a long day, and surely he was hallucinating. Staring at his phone didn’t change anything, and he finally accepted that Tamlin had sent him a picture of his dick.
It was nice, both the dick itself and the picture. Good size, good lighting, good angle. The photo captured his well-defined abs and a small tattoo on his hip bone. Rhysand zoomed in on the picture to see that the tattoo was a name. Alex, maybe? Or Alec? He had no idea why Tamlin had sent him this. The last text exchanged between them was from a week ago, when Rhysand had asked if he was playing this weekend. Nothing to indicate that the next step would be dick pics.
More curious than upset, Rhysand quickly typed out a message.
”Nice tattoo. Ex boyfriend?”
Tamlin began replying right away, in a series of rapid fire messages.
”What?”
“Oh.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh no no no no no.”
“I am SO sorry!!!! I didn’t mean to send that to you!!! I’d never do something like that!!!”
The overuse of exclamation points aside, Rhysand felt bad for him.
”It’s all good, I swear. Not the first dick I’ve seen.”
The reply was instantaneous.
”Oh good!! Not that you’ve seen dicks, that you’re not mad. I’m really sorry.
He probably could have ended it there, but Rhysand was intrigued.
”Who was it for?”
Tamlin didn’t respond for a bit, and Rhysand worried he had overstepped. It was an unexpected relief when another message came in.
”Some guy from Grindr. A friend signed me up for it because I haven’t gone on a date in a while. His name also begins with an R.”
The thought of Tamlin and his awkward demeanor cruising on Grindr was honestly hilarious. This friend had to have been fucking with him. Then again, he never would have expected Tamlin to send a dick pic to a random guy on a dating app, and here they were.
”Already at the dick pic stage? Seems like it's getting serious.”
This time, the reply was faster.
”Ha ha. I actually haven’t even met him yet. We were just talking and he asked for a picture. I’ve never done that before and thought what the hell. And then immediately fucked it up.”
Tamlin was way too sweet and sincere for the guys on Grindr. Thinking fast, Rhysand searched for and downloaded a photo of the Washington Monument. Before he could let Tamlin stew in his self pity for too long, he sent:
”We’ve all fucked up. I’ll send you a pic too, so we’re even.”
He attached the downloaded photo, only thinking to question the joke after he had sent it. It was familiar, bordering on flirtatious. The kind of thing he’d usually only send to Azriel or Cassian. His phone pinged.
”No wonder your ego is huge.”
Another text came in, this time a photo of a male mallard with the title “duck pic.” Rhysand actually laughed. He shot back something about the head of the duck being bright green, and maybe he should get that looked at. Tamlin coyly asked if he knew any good doctors. Holy shit, was Tamlin hitting on him? He knew that Rhysand was a doctor; more accurately a surgeon, working in his father’s clinic.
Rhysand found himself draped over the couch, texting with Tamlin for over an hour. The mortifying start to their conversation seemed to loosen something in him. He was funnier and more charming than Rhysand had ever seen. It felt special, to have Tamlin be so open with him. The thought of Tamlin being like this with “random guy from Grindr who’s name begins with R” filled Rhysand with a seething hot emotion that he eventually identified as jealousy.
When the conversation seemed like it was drifting to an end, Rhysand made his move. He selected one of his own pictures from a hidden folder on his phone (yes he had his own dick pics saved for occasions like this) and sent it. He waited a few seconds, then wrote:
”If you want to keep going, give me a call.”
The urge to throw his phone across the room overwhelmed him. He resorted to putting it face down on the coffee table and staring pointedly at the ceiling. The next minute was the longest of his life. But then, like a miracle, his phone began to ring.
*****************************
One month later
“You owe me a thank you drink.”
“What did you do now?” Tamlin asked, only giving half of his attention to the giant man sitting on the floor. His roommate was supposed to be helping him set up, which mostly just involved finding a stool for Tamlin to sit on. Mission accomplished, Andras sat back on his hands, watching as Tamlin fiddled with his guitar. The coffee shop was almost empty, but it would start to fill up as Tamlin’s set started. He was a regular here.
“Don’t try that innocent act on me, I know all your secrets.” Andras pointed an accusing finger. “You found a hookup on Grindr. You’re welcome.”
“What? No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did. I know all the signs. Lucien and I barely see you anymore, you haven’t brooded in weeks, and I found this in your backpack.” For his final exhibit, Andras brandished a small foil packet that revealed itself to be a condom when he stopped shaking it around.
“Stop that!” Blushing, Tamlin snatched the condom out of Andras’s hand. “Why were you going through my backpack anyway?”
“Don’t change the subject. Who is it? That guy with the blue hair? What was his name, Ryan?”
“What are you guys talking about?” Tamlin’s second roommate, Lucien, asked, appearing as if summoned by an omniscient being that wanted to ruin Tamlin’s life.
“Tamlin’s new boy toy,” Andras answered before Tamlin could.
“Ooooooh. Is it that guy with the septum piercing? Rowan?”
Tamlin was about to tell them that he was moving out and they were never allowed to talk to him again when his gaze caught a familiar dark-haired figure swagger into the coffee shop. His heart stuttered, his breath caught in his throat. Rhys sat down at a table near his little stage, leaning back in the seat. He saw Tamlin staring and grinned, waggling his fingers obnoxiously in greeting.
Of course, Rhys had known where he was going. Tamlin had come here straight from Rhys’s apartment, having barely escaped from the lean arms that had grabbed at him, inviting him back into the comforting warmth of Rhys’s bed. Tamlin just hadn’t thought that Rhys would actually show up.
Too late, he remembered that he was in public, being scrutinized by the two people who knew him better than they knew themselves. He watched in horror as Andras and Lucien looked back and forth between Tamlin and Rhysand. Recognition dawned on their faces. At the same time, they said,
“No fucking way.”
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Five Minutes to Midnight
An ACOTAR AU
Ch. 1: Second Chances
Preview
Update: Read Ch. 1 Here
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Chapter one preview! I wanted to wait a few more weeks, but honestly I am just too excited and will be posting the first chapter of my first multi-chapter fanfiction today!
Tag list: @beaumaismortel @s-uppertime @vulpes-fennec @the-lonelybarricade @panicatthenightcourt @corcracrow @starfall-spirit @booknerd87 @vikingmagic33 @headcanonheadcase @hlizr50 @pandavelaris
Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the tag list!!
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youhearstatic · 6 years
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a court of denim and fire
(prologue/preview of ACOTAR Blupjeans AU)
There was no time. Barry could feel the complicated spell weave closing around them, feel his power being pulled away, being pulled to her, the dark and awful claws of her magic digging into him, claiming him.
With the secret scraps of magic still remaining under his control he threw his own dense tapestry of magic out, far away to his Court, to his home. He could feel his family - Magnus, Julia, and Kravitz - all realize what he was doing, feel their protest. But there wasn’t time for another option, wasn’t even time to explain. He could keep them safe at least. Keep one place protected from this. From her.
Then the connection was cut off and most of his magic was stripped away.
Now he had a part to play. A role he’d have to excel at if that safety were to last. He squared his shoulders and held his head high. He would make whatever sacrifices were necessary to know his family, his true home, was protected.
—-
Taako was sick again. His fever had come down some in the last few hours but it had spiked overnight for the last three days. A fourth might finally be too much.
Lup couldn’t watch him fade and fight and fade again. She had to get the doctor and that meant she had to get money.
“I’ll be back,” she told him as she fastened her cloak around her throat. She picked up her bow and quiver. “I’ll bring you help, I pro-”
“Don’t promise,” he whispered, his eyes feverishly bright.
“Taako? I promise.”
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smallerinfinities · 4 years
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mad woman (preview)
a/n: hello! I’m new to the ACOTAR/SJM fandom...here’s a little preview of something I’m almost done with. it’s a Nessian modern AU...with spice. will likely (read: it’s a guarantee) be multiple parts. 
warnings: sex work, trauma, a battle of wills 
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“Oh, I dare,” he continued, planting his hands on the door behind her, trapping her with his eyes. “Because take it from someone who knows, when you decide to wake up and live with what you have left instead of existing with everything you’ve lost, there may not be anything left to live with. And trust me, guilt makes a very lonely bedfellow.”
Nesta had barely blinked this whole time, refusing to let him have that victory. Even if everything he’d said had hit home. Even if everything he’d said had flayed her open and raked her insides across the coals. She still burned with that unyielding rage.
“Is that what you say to all the girls that pay for your time?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. She was close enough to smell him, the warm spice of clove and sandalwood with a distinctly male musk. It was intoxicating. It was infuriating.
“Some. Some of the men, too. I’m an equal opportunity tough lover.”
She swallowed hard. He was close enough that if she moved an inch his hair might brush her cheek. “Is that what this is? Tough love? For someone you just met?”
“It’s the truth,” his breath tickled her face, the tension crackling like static electricity around them, “isn’t it?”
He sounded tentative for the first time, like maybe he’d overstepped. Is it really so obvious?
“Did Feyre pay you to say those things?” Or were they just written so plainly on her face?
“Nooo,” he said, lower than before, gentler, raising one of his hands like he might stroke her cheek. She cursed herself silently for hoping. He came closer then, his lips a hair’s breadth away from her ear, “Feyre paid me to fuck you senseless.”
Goddamn him. Fire shot into her veins. Not the simmering fury of her anger but something deeper, hotter, pooling in her core. Her breath caught in a little gasp and he smiled. A wide, full grin with teeth that made him look more predator than man.
Her body was a traitor, but it made no difference. She was already burning in hell.
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theladyofdeath · 4 years
Text
Alone in the Ashes {19}
A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.
Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.
For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: This one is actually pretty fluffy, friends. You’re welcome.
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“It's a rare person to face who they are and not run from it - not be broken by it.” ― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin
“What do you think of an October wedding?”
Rhysand was flipping pancakes in the skillet - it was breakfast for dinner night. He’d already made a plate piled high with bacon. “Sounds nice.”
“This October,” Feyre clarified, scrolling through her newsfeed on her phone from the barstool behind the island.
Rhysand glanced over his shoulder. “As in...three months from now?”
“Yeah,” Feyre said, smiling. “Why not?”
“Don’t weddings take ten years to plan?” Rhysand asked, turning off the stove top burner. 
“Usually, but I don’t want anything big,” she said, setting down her phone. “And, I always wanted a fall wedding. Early October will allow us to do it outside before it starts getting too cold...and I don’t want to wait a whole year and a half to become your wife.”
Rhysand turned around and leaned against the opposite side of the island. “Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there, waiting for you at the end of the aisle.” 
Her grin widened. “Good answer.”
Rhysand winked. “See? I’m making a good husband already.”
“I never doubted that you were husband material,” Feyre said, eyes softening. “I have to tell the girls. Oh, fuck, there’s so much to do in three months time. Okay. I need a notepad.”
“A notepad?” Rhysand chuckled.
“Yes,” she said, giving him a pointed look as she dug through a few junk drawers before finding a small notepad and a pen. “Alright. I need a dress. I need bridesmaids...they also need dresses. We need to pick out wedding bands. Oh, and an actual band to play at our reception. Food. We need food. A place to get married. A priest. Oh, Mila will be the flower girl, of course. What else….alcohol! We must have wine.”
Rhysand stared as she listed off item after item after item.
“You realize all this needs to be done in three months, right?” he asked. “If you must get married this October.”
Feyre nodded, slowly, looking uncertain as she looked through her final pages that made up her list.
“Hey,” Rhysand said, quietly. “We can wait.”
“No,” she said, setting the list down and looking up at him. “Rhys, I wanna be your wife, and I don’t wanna have to wait. You asked me to marry you, I said yes, now we’re going to get married. And I don’t want to wait. As much as I love calling you my fiance, I’m already ready to call you my husband.”
Rhysand huffed a laugh. “Alright. Give me the notepad, then.”
Feyre slid the notepad and pen across the island, along with her ridiculously long list. Rhysand starting writing out a new one, and when he was done, he handed two sheets to Feyre and kept two for himself.
She raised her brows. “What’s this?”
“I split it in half. You and the girls take care of what’s on that list, me and Cassian and Az will take care of what’s on mine. You wanna get married in October, then we’ll be ready to get married in October.”
A small smile appeared on Feyre’s lips. “I constantly wonder how I became so lucky.”
“As you should,” Rhysand muttered. “I’m fucking awesome.”
With a roll of her eyes, Feyre stood from the barstool and ran around the island, into Rhysand’s arms. She kissed him, long and slowly, before grabbing a plate off the counter and loading it up with food. They ate on the couch, watching a ridiculous, old rom-com. 
Feyre thought that if this was a preview of the rest of her life, she was, truly, one lucky woman.
~~~~~
Mila was playing with Elain’s new kitten in her living room while Azriel sat with Elain in the kitchen.
They had spent the last few hours clearing out Elain’s guest room, which they had just unpacked the week before. Nesta would be moving in for a while. Elain had offered, and Nesta had jumped on the opportunity.
“It sounds like she’s doing well,” Azriel said. “All things considering.”
“She will be,” Elain said, nodding. 
Azriel moved his chair closer to hers. “And how are you doing? Still okay?”
Elain nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
The first week after she stopped her diet pills was hard on her body. She woke up every morning, feeling sick, starving for the first time in ages. She had tried to get on a regulated, healthy eating schedule, but her body was adjusting.
As time went on, though, it grew easier. 
“Lain!” Mila called from the living room. “Can I watch t.v.?”
Elain looked at Azriel, who nodded. When she left to help Mila turn it on, Azriel stood from where he was sitting and wandered around the kitchen. There was a picture she had put onto her fridge of her, Feyre, and Nesta in high school.
Not much had changed.
In the picture, Elain wore her cheerleading uniform, Nesta was wearing a black cropped top and jeans, and Feyre was wearing Rhysand’s Letterman jacket. It was after a basketball game, taken outside among the falling Autumn leaves. He wished he would have known Elain, then. Wished he would have found her sooner.
“Admiring me in my cheer uniform?” Elain asked, coming up behind him. When he turned and wrapped his arms around her, he was grinning.
“If you still have it, I wouldn’t be mad if you put it on.”
Elain laughed, shoving him in the chest. “Keep dreaming. I remember watching you play. Basketball. You were good.”
“I loved it,” Azriel said. “Smoked too much pot, though, to ever make anything of myself playing. At least, that’s what coach used to say.”
Elain chuckled. “Well, little did he know you would turn into such an amazing man.”
“You think too highly of me,” he mumbled, leaning down to capture her lips with his. The kiss was soft, but it lasted a while, Elain melting into his touch, Azriel’s arms tightening around her waist. 
He lifted her up and set her on the edge of the counter. Her slim legs immediately wrapped around his body, pulling him closer to her. His tongue swept between her lips, and he only hesitated when he heard Mila laughing at something on the t.v.
He’d forgotten she was there.
Azriel jerked back, feeling guilty for melting into their own little world, but Elain was laughing, quietly. 
“I suppose we should keep off each other while the little one is awake,” she whispered.
Azriel nodded, then kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips, one final time. “Maybe so.”
“But when she goes to sleep…” Elain trailed off, running her fingers down his chest.
Azriel grinned, eyes lighting up as he said, “Tease.”
“Only for you,” Elain muttered, wrapping her arms around him in an innocent embrace.
Even though innocent it was, Mila thought it was horrifying.
“Ewwww, I’m right here!” she yelled, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.
Azriel laughed as he spun around, narrowed his eyes, and started running toward Mila. She yelled and started running the other way, but Azriel’s legs were just a little bit longer. He caught her and threw her over his shoulder. 
“Let me down!” she giggled.
“Never!” Azriel cried, but he threw her down onto the couch before tickling her tummy. 
Elain stood in the doorway, watching the sight with a full heart.
~~~~~
Cassian had just gotten home from work when he saw Nesta, coming out of her apartment, struggling with a bigass box.
It had been almost two weeks since Feyre had spent the night at her sister’s apartment and Cassian had been trying to keep his distance. He had noticed, too, that Nesta hadn’t been home much. She had either been with Feyre or Elain. She couldn’t trust herself to be alone.
“Need help?” he asked.
She stopped, and although he couldn’t see her over the box, he assumed he was the last person she wanted to see.
“No, it’s okay.” There was nothing hard in her voice, just exhaustion. Feyre said she was detoxing - which, judging by the amount of drugs she had pulled out of Nesta’s apartment days before, Cassian wasn’t surprised.
“I don’t mind,” he said, taking the box from her before she could protest. “Moving?”
She sighed, finally able to meet his eye once she was free of the box. She grabbed another one, a smaller one, from just inside of her doorway. “Going to live with Elain. She has an extra room.”
Cassian nodded, surprised, and a small, selfish part of him was upset she was leaving the apartment across from his.
“Well, I can help you carry some of this down to your car. And, if you need more room, I don’t mind helping,” he said. “I do have a truck.” 
She smiled, softly. “Thanks.”
Nesta closed her door and started walking toward the staircase, Cassian close behind. When they made it to her car, Cassian shoved the giant box into her trunk.
As they began to walk back up the stairs, she cleared her throat. “Cassian…I’ve been meaning to come by-”
“It’s okay,” he said, cutting her off. “You don’t have to-”
“I’m sorry,” she breathed. She stopped in front of her apartment door to meet his gaze. 
Cassian said nothing. He just leaned against the brick building with his hands in his pockets.
“What I did to you wasn’t fair, and I know that, but I just want you to know that it had nothing to do with you.”
It’s not you, it’s me. It was the oldest line in the book; but, for once, Cassian knew it to be true. Even if it did make him feel guilty.
“I should have been there for you,” he said, then. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Are you fucking kidding? I pushed you away. You had every right to react as you did. I wanted you to react as you did. I wanted you to hate me. And I was glad when you did.”
Cassian cocked his head to the side. “Why?”
She shook her head. “It’s not important.”
“It is to me,” Cassian whispered.
Nesta nodded, and leaned against the wall opposite of him. She blew out a long, slow, unsteady breath. “It’s easier when people don’t like you.”
Cassian thought of all the times he had told Nesta how he felt about her. Not once did she tell him that she liked him back; and when he had told her that he loved her, she wouldn’t even let him finish. 
“Maybe so,” he agreed. “But it’s lonely.”
“I’ve always been lonely,” she said, simply. 
Cassian nodded. “You don’t have to be, though. Start letting people in, Nesta. You’ll find it’s a hell of a lot nicer that way.”
She huffed a laugh and looked out at the parking lot, where the sun was setting. “Maybe I’ll give it a try.” 
“Good,” Cassian muttered, and when she looked back at him, he was already watching her. “Need help packing up?”
“You just got home from work,” she said. “You should go relax.” 
“I never relax,” he countered. “I’ve got nothing to do. Amren is out walking Bryaxis. Last offer.”
Nesta’s eyes narrowed, but there was a small smile on her mouth. “Okay. Sure. Thanks.”
He nodded before following her into her apartment. She had already packed quite a bit up. Boxes of all shapes and sizes sat around the living room and the kitchen.
“All I really have left is my bedroom and the bathroom.”
“Boxes?”
“At the end of the hallway. A Sharpie is there, too.”
“Right,” Cassian said. “And if I forget to label a box?”
“I’ll know it was you who forgot and I’ll kick your ass.”
Cassian laughed. “Holy fuck, Nesta Archeron made a joke.”
She looked over her shoulder as she padded down the hallway. Her eyes were bright. Weary, but bright “It wasn’t a joke.”
Humored, Cassian walked after her and into her bedroom. “Where do you want me to start?”
“You’re tall,” she began, “mind getting all the stuff from the top of my closet?”
Cassian nodded, grabbed a box from the hallway and taped up the bottom before getting to work. 
“So, how are you feeling?”
She didn’t answer for a minute, and as another minute passed, Cassian thought he had pissed her off. But, then she answered, “Decent. Thankfully, Feyre found the hard stuff before I could really get into it. Most of what I took were those pain pills...Last week was hell. I was miserable. But the last couple days…” she shrugged. “The last couple days have been decent. I’m really fucking tired, but my head is clear...Even though my thoughts run a little more wild with a clear head. I’ve got a long road ahead of me, and I’ll have to fight for myself, every day, but, for the first time, I look forward to that.”
“That’s good,” he said, and when Nesta gave him a curious look he said, “Not about being tired and feeling like hell, about...you know. You just...You look good.”
She gave him another curious look.
“Not in like a sexual sense. I mean - you look good that way, too, but, I meant...you know. You look….hydrated.”
Nesta laughed, quietly. “Hydrated. Thank you.”
“Yeah,” Cassian said, then quickly faced her closet to stop whatever words were wanting to come out of his mouth before he could think better of it.
Just when he thought Nesta couldn’t have any more books than the ones that had been displayed in her living room, he pulled down stack after stack from the shelf at the top of her closet. There were also photo albums, which she refused to let him look through, and old CDs. There was one thing that really surprised him, though, that he found in the back of the closet. 
“You play the violin?”
Nesta stopped what she was doing by her desk. “You sound surprised.”
He looked at her, from the top of her head to her socks that were covered in black cats. “I just….never saw you as the violin type. Or, you know, the musical type in general.”
Nesta rolled her eyes. “I haven’t played in years. My mom gave that to me, though, when I played nearly every day. Can’t get rid of it. Maybe I’ll pick it up again some day.”
Cassian unhooked the case and looked inside. It was made of a red wood, the bow was well worn. With a smile, he shut it safely inside and placed it in the top of his box. “You should. Pick it up again.” 
“Do you play anything?” Nesta asked, her back turned to him, once more.
“No,” Cassian answered. “I sang in choir in high school though.”
Nesta’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“You can sing?”
“Fuck no,” Cassian said. “I was horrible.” 
As Nesta’s laughter filled the room, Cassian taped the box shut and wrote in big, obnoxious letters, Top Closet Shit. He underlined it three times before putting the lid back on the marker and tossing it on her bed. 
She watched him, brows raised.
He shrugged. “At least I labelled.” 
Cassian stayed with her all night, helping pack the rest of her belongings. He did most of the work as she ordered him around, which Cassian was happy to do because he could tell she was exhausted. She seemed to be doing well, though. But every now and then when he looked at her, when she didn’t know it, her eyes were distant, heavy. But when she smiled at him, it was true. Genuine. And when she spoke, he knew she meant the words coming out of her mouth. For once, she seemed excited at the thought of going to live with her sister.
As midnight rolled around, everything Nesta owned was packed away in a box. She walked Cassian to her front door.
“Thank you for helping,” she said, eyes still bright from their night of talking about useless shit and laughing about nothing, even though that exhaustion lingered. “Truly. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I care about you, Nesta,” he said, voice quiet. “And I’m proud of you.”
Her smile faded, and she nodded, blue eyes shining. “Thanks.”
“I’ll be here in the morning to load the back of my truck up,” he promised.
“Great,” she whispered, smiling once more.
Cassian turned to leave, but when he opened the door, Nesta called his name.
He turned around and she had taken a step closer to him.
She shook her head as she said, “I was falling in love with you, too. For whatever it’s worth.”
Cassian froze before closing the distance between them and pressing his mouth to the top of her head. 
After one last smile, he left, and let himself into his own apartment.
Amren watched as he closed the door and leaned against it.
She asked him a question, but he didn’t hear it.
Nesta’s words were replaying in his mind, over and over and over again.
I was falling in love with you, too.
Cassian smiled.
When she said it, her eyes were clear, her voice sturdy. 
She was sober.
Nesta was sober.
Friends may be all that they remained, but that confession would stay with him.
For whatever it’s worth.
It was worth everything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Prompts:
{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous
{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous
{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous
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stormhearty · 3 months
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for the ask game: 🌻🍰🦋
@hopeinvelaris | ask game
🌻 least favourite character / hardest to write
for ACOTAR: Elain, Nesta, Tamlin (post-ACOTAR), Beron
I will say this now, and it's probably because I haven't finished ACOSF, but I am not the biggest fan of Elain or Nesta. It is very hard for me to write them romantically, so I'm sorry for people who might request them in the future, but I cannot do requests for either Archeron sister.
Tamlin, post-ACOTAR, we all know why. Pre and during ACOTAR I might be able to write for him.
And Beron, we all know why. LMAO.
for genre (weirdly enough): romance, action-driven scenes, politics
🦋 tell us about your current wip
Dreamwalkers - Azriel x Reader
Based off Jeonghan x Wonwoo's MV "Last Night".
Preview: He's been chasing after her for centuries, the girl who was a figment of people’s imaginations. The girl that is seen in everyone’s dreams. That girl. Azriel, a dreamwalker, is set to find this girl that seems to wander through dreams. Why is it important? Because that girl is the love of his life.
Bleeding Crowns Part 3
I'm not sure if this will be the last part, or if I'll be writing more. But I know that this part will be mostly set in Autumn Court and the dynamics between the Vanserra family and our wife!reader. It's a build-up chapter for the climax of the series. I'm still plotting and brainstorming this part out, especially since part 2 seemed to be very lack luster in response.
Azris x Reader (Addams Family AU)
A prequel to the original one-shot of the Addams AU with Azris. On how our pastel princess!reader and the husbands met.
🍰 where you like to write
it's mostly gonna be in my room at my computer. there will be days where I will write on my phone at work when there is downtime or in bed when I have big inspirations.
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youhearstatic · 6 years
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I know nothing about ACOTAR, but you have me properly Intrigued by that AU sneak peek.
SCORE! I’m SO glad to get this because I really wondered if that preview would have any appeal to someone who hadn’t read the books!
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