Facts

Facts

Apparently it’s okay to say Nesta is closer to Emerie and Gwyn, and Elain is closer to the shadow twins but it’s a crime to say Feyre is closer to the inner circle. Never mind that she’s the only sister who has actually said she considers her found family more of her family than her blood one. But saying that simple fact means we’re “demeaning her relationship with her blood sisters”.

Y’all spend so much time talking shit about her but y’all hate when people say she isn’t close with them. Even though this is something that she herself has said.

@backtobl4ck @writtenonreceipts, and any others who’d like to add: Fanfic canons/prompts??? I don’t have any ideas lmao

Open for ACOTAR, TOG and Red White and Royal Blue

THANK YOU

<33333

This was so heartwarming 💗💗🥰

Summary: Rhysand comforts Nyx after he encounters a creative crisis. Just a short father-son bonding fic.

Notes:

-In honor of it being Father's Day last weekend, I present to you Rhys being the best dad in Prythian.

-Post-canon universe

-Fluffy one shot

Word Count: 1256 AO3

.

.

Rhysand felt a surge of star-flecked darkness identical to his own go through the River House Manor in the early hours of the morning, briefly rattling the windows and shaking the floor as he sat at his desk reading a memo from the Winter Court.

"Nyx," he sighed, running a hand through his raven hair. Just like himself, the boy was an early riser, and just like Feyre, he had a temper. Their son was still learning to control his growing power, and when distressed, he loses control of his darkness before he reels it in a second or two later. He just hopes Nyx didn't wake his mother up.

As he felt Feyre's lovely light within the bridge of the mating bond, he realized it was too late. She was stirring awake. She was as attuned to Nyx as he was, much more so. Before his exhausted mate could get up from bed to check on their 8-year-old son and whatever caused him to be upset, he whispered to her with a soothing voice he hoped would lull her back to sleep, "I'll check on him, Feyre darling. Sleep and dream of me."

"Mhmmm okay," Feyre relented too easily, clearly wanting to sleep more, and added, "then come back to bed after."

Rhysand chuckled, sensing the palpable annoyance his mate felt waking without him at her side, and promised her, "I will," before she dozed off and he got up from his chair.

Rhysand didn't need to follow the retreating darkness to know where Nyx was. He knocked twice on the ajar door, letting Nyx be aware of his presence, before entering his bedroom. He found their son still in pajamas with his ruffled hair, sitting on a stool, hunched over a blank canvas, and covering his face with his palms. His wings drooped low as a few remaining tendrils of darkness and stars swirled around him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he asked, "Is everything alright, Nyx?"

Nyx turned around to face him, and at the sight of his father's concern, he blinked away the darkness, letting the sunlight streaming through the wide, open balcony shine into his bedroom. "Yes, dad, I'm sorry. I'm just—" he trailed off, looking down at a discarded brush smudged with blue paint staining the white carpeted floor. The paint brush was one of a kind, lovingly engraved with Nyx's name on the handle—a gift from Feyre for their son a few years ago when he wanted to paint just like his mom on his fifth birthday.

Rhys knelt down, picking up the brush with one hand and snapping a finger with the other, cleaning the brush and returning the carpet to its pristine condition. "Are you having a bad painting day?" he asked gently, handing over the brush.

Nyx nodded, cradling the brush against his chest. "How does mom do it perfectly, dad? I see a picture in my mind, but when I paint, it's all wrong." His shadowed blue eyes pointed to two similar abandoned paintings resting on the floor—a silhouette of Azriel and Cassian training with swords during dawn. He admired his uncles and wanted his painting to do them justice. He didn't think they did.

Rhysand gave a comforting smile. He wasn't sufficiently versed in painting techniques, but he knew Nyx paintings were beautiful and exemplary for a fae youngling. However, Nyx was a perfectionist, and Rhys understood the desire to get everything as planned. "Your mom doesn't always get it right, Nyx." He gave another smile. "Don't tell her I said that."

Nyx raised an eyebrow. "She doesn't?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

"No," Rhysand said, lightly pinching Nyx's freckled nose. "She practices and practices until she does everything right."

Nyx's face turned into awe for his mother until his self-doubt made him glum. "But what if I never get it right? What if I am never able to paint what I see in time? How do I not lose the picture in my mind?"

Rhysand shook his head. "I don't believe for one moment that you cannot achieve anything you want in life, Nyx, and that includes painting your vision in your head."

"Dad..." Nyx whined and frowned over the praise.

Rhys chuckled at his son's reaction and added, "But I suppose this is where being Daemati comes in handy."

"Really?" Nyx perked up, standing and extending his wings in excitement. "How? Show me, dad, please."

Rhysand could never deny him anything, and so he stood up too and extended a hand, which Nyx took immediately. A talon hand gently tapped at Nyx's mental shields, and Nyx let them drop, letting his father into his mind.

Nyx's mind was wondrous. A starry night sky enveloped them as countless open storybooks floated about, flipping through pages of happy memories he held dear since he was a babe and every day after.

It wasn't the first time Rhysand was invited into Nyx's mind, but it stunned him every time he saw it. A sense of heartwarming peace came over him, knowing that their son has yet to endure any pain or suffering in his life. Outwardly, Rhysand rubbed his chest, and Nyx held his hand tighter.

Remembering the task at hand, Rhysand instructed, "Carve out a new space in your thoughts, Nyx, and in that space imagine a big enough chest to store all the pictures you want to keep safe from forgetting."

Nyx shut his eyes and concentrated hard until he projected them both to a darkened corner of his mind before turning it into a snow-covered pine forest. In its clearing in the middle stood a magnificent open chest made of starlight. "Like that, dad?"

"Like that," confirmed Rhysand. "Good job," he said, beaming with pride and admiring his son's work.

"Now what?" asked Nyx eagerly.

"Now, Nyxie, imagine all the pictures you see in your mind neatly tucked away inside this chest you created for safekeeping," Rhysand said, pointing to the empty space inside the chest.

As soon as his father left his mind, Nyx's eyes fluttered open and shone brightly with stars. "Thank you for everything, dad," he said, smiling adoringly up and hugging him tight. 

Nyx did exactly as his father instructed, and soon the chest was half-full. Rhysand wasn't surprised because Nyx was as creative as Feyre was, and so he gave one last piece of advice as he watched Nyx shut the chest closed before leaving his mind. "As your ideas grow, my love, you can make your treasure chest grow with them, whether or not you choose to paint them and share them with the world one day." Outwardly, he dropped a kiss on top of his head and uttered, "Though always remember your mom and I would be endlessly proud of you either way."

When Rhysand finally joined Feyre in bed, he found her sitting up waiting for him with tears in her eyes and a soft smile on her face. "Oh Rhys."

"You heard?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

Caressing his strong, muscled back, she simply said, "You left the bond open. How could a mother resist?"

"Our beautiful darling boy will be okay, Feyre. No need to fret."

"I know, my love, because he has you as his father, and I thank the Mother for that."

Rhysand blinked back grateful tears, and Feyre kissed him sweetly and tenderly as they slipped back under the covers, dreaming away the rest of the early morning.

Thank you for reading! 🩷

🌷Masterlist

Taglist friends: @the-lonelybarricade @shallyne @msfeyredarling @sideralwriting @s-uppertime

If you want to be removed from the taglist don't hesitate to let me know. It's been a while since I used it. 🥰

THIS MADE ME SCREAM

RED WHITE & ROYAL BLUE (2023)

If this ain’t a scene….

modern!au where the band of exiles+elain go to a bar, get wasted, and the night ends with Lucien singing Don't You Want Me on karaoke while making intense eye contact with Elain

I LOVE THIS!! I don’t normally read friendship fics but this was perfection <3

Do Not Touch That Oven

hey @writtenonreceipts, happy birthday!!! you are such a talented writer and a wonderful person, and I hope you have the best day <3 here's some Aelin-Elide friendship fluff and shenanigans :))

~1k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ells!” Aelin squealed, opening her front door for her best friend. 

“Calm down, Ace,” Elide laughed, giving her taller best friend a hug, “you literally saw me yesterday.”

“Oh, this isn’t me talking, it’s the caffeine.” 

“Hellas,” Elide snorted, heading for the kitchen with her bag of ingredients, “someone needs to hide the coffee from you.” 

“Someone isn’t here this weekend,” Aelin smirked. “He’s on the boys’ trip.” 

Right. The “boys’ trip.” Gods only knew why Rowan, Lorcan, Fenrys, Connall, Vaughan, Aedion, and Dorian had decided to go camping that weekend, but Aelin and Elide were dead fucking certain that they’d all come back hungover and probably bearing a few bruises, if they made it back alive at all. 

In the meantime, though, Elide was staying at Aelin’s overnight for their monthly girls’ night, and she’d brought the stuff to make cookies because Aelin had taken one look into her pantry and quickly decided to put her much wiser friend in charge of the shopping. The last time she’d been entrusted to go to the store, Aelin had hardly been able to find the few things on her list, returning with milk, eggs, and flour–which she’d been asked to buy–as well as twenty dollars’ worth of junk food. She just couldn’t help herself. 

Aelin followed Elide into the kitchen, perching herself on one of the high stools at the island. “So what are we making?” 

“Double chocolate cookies,” Elide replied, unloading a bunch of cooking ingredients onto the counter. Aelin had eyes for exactly one of those things. 

“Chocolate!” she crowed, tearing into the bag of dark chocolate chunks. 

Elida snatched it before she could grab more than a few pieces. “Uh uh, Ace, hands off!” 

“Bitch,” Aelin grumbled halfheartedly, fake-pouting. 

“If you eat them all now, there won’t be any for the cookies. And you like cookies with extra chocolate.” 

“Damn straight I do!” Aelin cheered up. “Shit, Ells, you know me too well.” 

“Fourteen years of friendship and that’s all you have to say?” Elide placed her hand over her chest. “I’m wounded.” 

Aelin snorted. “Yeah, yeah, no you’re not.” 

“No I’m not.” She pointed a wooden spoon at the taller girl. “Now get a bowl, this is your kitchen and you have to help somehow, even if you’re a disaster behind the stove.” 

“Rude!” But she grabbed a mixing bowl from a cabinet and slid it over to Elide. Then she grabbed her phone, setting her speaker up on a shelf so it wouldn’t get knocked over, and put on their joint playlist. 

The two of them made a bit of a flour and cocoa mess on the counter, what with singing into their spoons like they were pop stars and having a small bit of a flour fight, but the dough got made–with a minimum of Aelin swiping tastes–and scooped onto a baking sheet. 

Aelin checked the recipe card for the oven temperature. “Ells!” 

“What?” 

“We’re supposed to bake these at 375, right?” 

“Yes bitch, can you read?” Elide rolled her eyes, snickering. 

“Bitch!” Aelin threw an oven mitt at her. “Well we have a ton of cookies to bake and it’s going to take forever,” she complained. 

“So what are you suggesting…” Elide looked a little suspicious. 

“If we bake them at a higher temperature, they’ll be ready a lot faster, right?” She grinned, so damn proud of herself. 

Elide grabbed the baking sheet right out of her hands. “Do not touch the oven!” she commanded. “We don’t want the house burned down.” 

Aelin gasped in mock affront. “I’m not going to burn the house down!” she protested. 

“Mhmm,” Elide deadpanned, sliding the cookies into the oven and setting the timer. “You keep telling yourself that, Ace.” 

Aelin grumbled something crude under her breath and went over to the sink to help clean up the dirty dishes. She couldn’t let Elide do everything, even though she knew that if she left the dishes unattended, the petite girl just couldn’t help herself. 

The oven timer beeped ten minutes later and Aelin crowed with joy, hurrying over to take out the pan. Elide beat her there, swatting her hands away. 

“No touching!” she said in her very best mom voice. 

Aelin stuck out her tongue. “I’ll touch whatever I want to touch.” 

“Not with me, you won’t.” Elide winked lewdly, waggling her brows. 

Aelin, who’d just taken a gulp from her water bottle, spewed her water all over the kitchen floor. “ELLS!” she screeched, her face flaring red. 

Elide howled with laughter as she took the cookies out of the oven and put the next pans in. “You telling me I’m wrong?”

“Hell no,” Aelin returned, wiggling her own brows. “You better believe I touch whatever I want to touch when Rowan stays over.” 

“Okay, okay, enough!” Elide groaned, covering her ears. “Fuck, I did not need to know that!” 

“That’s what you get for oversharing about you and Lorcan,” Aelin teased. 

“Oh, trust me Ace, I’m not the one who overshares.”

“Right,” Aelin nodded sagely, “that would be Dorian.” 

Elide cackled as she transferred the cookies to wire cooling racks. “Damn straight.” 

“Which he is not,” Aelin declared, giggling helplessly. 

Elide laughed harder, almost dropping the cookies. “Makes for some interesting stories, it does, the kind of men he flirts with.” 

Aelin agreed. She finished up the dishes and strolled over to the cookies, swiping a warm one off the rack before Elide could smack her hands away. “Fuck,” she groaned through her mouthful, “these are so yummy, Ells!” 

“Save a few of them for the guys,” Elide reminded her as she stacked five more onto a small plate. “They’ll want their sweets too.” 

“Their sweets are right here,” Aelin smirked, gesturing to herself and Elide. “And you better believe they’ll get these sweets when they come home.” She winked broadly. 

And both of them collapsed into helpless laughter, wheezing at their own hilarity and their wicked wicked plans for surprising their boyfriends when they came back from their trip. 

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz