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CHARACTERS: tarquin and elain; TROPE: domestic; TWIST: a character must reference/use a meme
Elain wakes up to the sounds of waves crashing against the shore. She blinks three times and curls her knees into her chest, listening the soothing rhythm of the waves. She loves living next to the sea, even if she couldn’t garden as much as she would have liked. Elain sits up on her elbow and pushes her hair behind her shoulder, pushing aside the curtains and she grins, watching as the sun sparkles against the water’s surface so it looks like a thousand little crystals.
She watches the fish fly through the air before diving back into the water and a soft smile blooms on her face, followed by laughter as she sees the tailed-people do the same. Tarquin calls them merpeople. Elain looks over her shoulder, letting the curtains fall back into place, and she touches the place Tarquin used to be. Elain falls back against the bed and she sighs, counting to five in her head, before pulling herself out of bed.
Her feet touch the warm floor as she leaves the room, Tarquin’s shirt reaching down to her knees. She lifts her hair up and ties it back with a band that lives on her wrist for safe keeping, and Elain travels down the seaglass steps, heading towards the kitchen. If he isn’t cooking breakfast-
He is. Elain grins and rushes into the kitchen, stopping at the doorway to see Tarquin sipping something out of a mug, and he holds a pan in his other hand, flipping it contents, before placing the pan back over the stove. “Morning,” He says, turning around with a grin on his face.
Elain walks forward and she kisses his cheek, before grabbing the kettle and placing a tea bag in her own mug, pouring the hot water in. Tarquin hands her the milk and honey and Elain sits on the counter, stirring her tea, then she drags her toes down his bare back. His muscles shift under her small toes and Elain leans back on her hands, sipping her tea. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Fish,” Tarquin grins so wide Elain can see each of those perfectly straight and white teeth when he turns around, turning off the stove. Elain rolls her eyes and she sighs, stirring her tea around again, taking another long sip.
“We can’t have fish for breakfast,” Elain decides and Tarquin raises an eyebrow. He places his fists on his hips and leans forward and Elain laughs as Tarquin mocks her.
“wE cAn’T hAVe fISH foR brEAkFasT.” Tarquin tries to imitate her voice and Elain pushes him away slightly, a pout growing on her face. He grabs her chin and kisses her slowly and deeply, before turning around and placing her omelet on a plate.
Elain slides off the counter and she grabs her plate, kissing his shoulder, before walking around the kitchen island and sitting down. Her feet swing under her and she watches as Tarquin cracks more eggs, letting them fall into the pan, and the sizzling sounds are the only sounds in the kitchen. Aside from Elain swallowing down her omelet, not even bothering to chew.
“I was thinking we headed down to the beach?” Tarquin asks, looking over his shoulder at her. “Unless we can’t go down to the beach for breakfast, either”
Elain scowls and she places her fists on her hips and Tarquin laughs as she leans forward, tilting her neck out. She drops her voice and shakes her head, mimicking Tarquin the way he did to her earlier. “uNLeSs wE cAn’T gO doWN tO thE beACH foR bREakFAst eIThEr.”
Tarquin laughs louder and Elain grins, eating the last bit of her omelet. “Was that good?” She asks, tilting her head to the side as Tarquin sits down next to her. He loops his arm around her waist and kisses her forehead and nods, sipping his own tea.
“Beautiful.”
Elain bounces in her seat waiting for Tarquin to finish his food. She practically flies out of her seat when he’s done and she runs to the front door and Tarquin struggles to swallow down the rest of his tea, and drop the plates in the sink. “Elain, dear, you don’t have a bathing suit. Don’t you dare mock me”
“dON’t yOU dArE mOcK mE”
Tarquin sighs and he runs after the middle Archeron sister, both of them curving down the side of the house, jumping down the seastone steps on the side of the cliff. Elain grins and she runs faster, but she can hear Tarquin catching up behind her.
Her feet hit the sand a second before Tarquin picks her up from behind, swinging her around, dark muscled arms wrapped around her waist. Elain laughs and she wraps her arms around his neck, as he spins them around and mutters, “Hold your breath.” Elain screeches as she flies through the air but Tarquin’s magic softens the blow as her body slices through the cold water.
She resurfaces and Tarquin is already there, his face half submerged in the water, blowing calculated bubbles. Elain splashes him and tries to swim away, but she hasn’t forgotten he is the High Lord of Summer, and this is his domain.
They spend all morning splashing each other and laughing, swimming and crashing through the waves. Hours later Elain curls against Tarquin’s side on the beach, her body beyond tired, and they watch the fish and merpeople jump through the air, before crashing back into the water.
WHAT THE HELL.
YOU ARE MAKING ME SHIP ELAQUIN?!?!?! THIS IS TOO CUTE?!?!?!
CHARACTERS: rhysand and lucien; TROPE: captured by the enemy; TWIST: rhys must lean against at least three (3) door frames over the course of the fic
Title is from Company of Thieves song “In Passing”
__________________
“God fucking dammit, Rhys, you’re going to be the
death of me.”
Lucien was so sick of Rhysand. Sick of his
feathery hair, and of his stupid black wardrobe that practically screamed villainy, and his stupid violet
eyes. Who the hell had violet eyes?
Rhys was leaning against a door frame. “Going
somewhere?”
“None of your business,” Lucien snapped. He didn’t
have time for this. Even as they spoke, Feyre could be dying. He’d been worried
out of his mind the past week as he’d lain wounded in his chambers. He didn’t
even know if Feyre was still alive. He needed to get to her – heal her. Not
just because Tamlin was in love with her, and Tamlin was his High Lord. Because
she was his friend, and he wanted to be hers.
His back still hurt like hell, but he couldn’t
waste another minute.
Elain has made a grave mistake and wished her sisters away to the dangerous realm of the goblins. To get them back, she’ll have to navigate a maddening labyrinth—and go toe-to-toe with its powerful, enigmatic ruler. Elain finds herself drawn to the red-haired Goblin King, but is he the tragic, lovesick prince from her mother’s stories, or a wicked faerie who’s only toying with her?
Their mother did not spend a great deal of time with the Archeron sisters, even before she died. Their father was in charge of their education, and he passed it on to a rotating series of tutors; the nanny minded them at play, the cooks fed them, the dogs cuddled with them when they were upset.
But mama Archeron did one thing, often in her elaborate party dresses, putting them to bed while her guests laughed and drank downstairs: she told stories. Elain remembers them well, remembers how often little Feyre fell asleep halfway through, how Nesta would sulk and declare that she didn’t need stories, she was too old for them, and would end up listening raptly by the end anyway.
She remembers one story best of all, would request it over and over again.
“The Goblin King,” her mother says, her beautiful painted mouth tugging into a smile. “Was one of the High Fae, a very long time ago.”
Yeah, so, apparently working on a Feysand AU and a WIP novel at the same time wasn’t enough for me. I had to add another fanfic! Just as a disclaimer: I am not writing this to ‘correct’ what SJM wrote in any way, shape, or form. I’ve actually done this with multiple other books, Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins being the first. I think it’s fun to rewrite books the way I thought they were going to go. I’m doing this for the pure fun of it.
Please don’t hesitate to like/reblog/reply/send an ask! It’s really petty, but a big part of the reason Across the Stars is on hiatus is because I saw my notes go from over 200 a chapter to 68 notes. It’s really, really discouraging. Please show your support if you like it!
Without further ado, here is the first chapter of A Court of Dreams and Wishes!
Charcoal skies enveloped the sun, blotting out its rays and wrapping the city below in never-ending darkness. The city never woke to the chaos around it, never so much as cracked an eye to the screams and the anguish that poured through the streets like blood. Its denizens relished the pain and the torture, fed off the fear and adrenaline the darkness brought with it. Eyes as black as the abyss pierced through the smoke above the city, a beast’s clawed wings shredding the clouds with half a thought, all the starlight I had come to love and cherish buried deep beneath in the High Lord’s heart, where no one but me could find it.
I chewed on the handle of the paintbrush, my own hands stained gray and black. What I painted was the truth, of sorts. Or, it at least had the potential of being the truth. I painted my nightmares, I’d told Tamlin one night as we sat by the fire together. The paintings were horrific, I’d allowed, when he’d tried to suggest that I paint something more beautiful, more dreamy to chase the numbing terror away. But I needed to let my broken soul bleed onto the canvas, I’d claimed. If I bled it all out, if I let the darkness and the trauma splatter itself into oblivion, I could convince myself that what I’d experienced was well and truly in the past.
Rhys can’t hurt you anymore, he’d said, running a hand through my unbound hair, his rage barely controlled. I could feel his claws poking through his knuckles and prayed to the Mother he couldn’t feel my shudder of revulsion. You’re home now. You’re safe.
Hey guys. So I started this fic a long time ago…but I never finished it because I didn’t know what to do with it. With a lot of help from the amazing @her-misplaced-wings, it finally turned into something decent. I hope you enjoy it!
Days after being forced into the Cauldron and turned into High Fae, Elain sits in her room and stresses over how much her life has changed until the power roiling deep inside of her threatens to awaken.
Sarah Viehmann 