I'am the Suriel, great...
  • Reads 83
  • Votes 3
  • Parts 2
  • Time 13m
  • Reads 83
  • Votes 3
  • Parts 2
  • Time 13m
Ongoing, First published Sep 29, 2023
"Are you going to stay there the whole time?" Alex dared to ask, his form resembling Suriel in the shadows, as if he were a bogeyman. With his arms crossed and a curious look on his face, he watched Feyre with a brush in her hand and a white canvas in front of her. "You'd better sit down; if you faint, and Tamlin comes in and sees me here with you passed out, it's goodbye to my tea and afternoon coffee."

"I'm fine..." Feyre breathed. "I just need a moment."

Alex furrowed his brow. "You need therapy, that's what you need."

Waking up as a Suriel shapeshifter in a realm full of fairies and humans wasn't exactly what Alex had in mind for the weekend, but what can you do? Suriels can't complain.

Plus, he apparently had the luck of having a partnership bond? Geez.
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What if I lived? ✔️

20 parts Complete Mature

Two hundred years ago Rhysand lost his mother and sister in a grueling murder. But what if that sister had survived? What if the head in that box was just a tree-stump, transformed to look exactly like her? What if she had instead been sold for her knowledge on the mysterious Night Court? And what if that sister would now, just a few years after the war, find her way back, but with agendas of her own? ****************************************************************************** "Alright, oh wise one, my need for wisdom has run out now, so you can be on your way now" I waved my hand. "That's cold" Rhys put a hand over his heart, " I thought we were having a big-bro-little-sis talk here." I rolled my eyes, but he slid an arm around my shoulder: "We both already know what you'll do anyway." "Oh, we do, is that right?" He nodded: "You always been so predictable, if you would write murder-mysteries everyone would know from the beginning who killed the victim." "That's weirdly specific, how long have you been sitting on that one?" I snorted. "Since you insulted my taste in art" he sniffed theatrically. I laughed: "You are one petty High Lord." "I don't even know what to say to that insolence" he shook his head.