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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 16 days

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Datura Pt 10

Summary: Stuck between a rock and a hard place, you realize what you have to do to ensure you and Rhys survive the Mountain.

Content Warnings: Character Death (not MC), blood and gore, canon typical violence.

Author's Notes: Sorry ya'll I got sick twice and then got hit with a massive case of writer's block. I think I rewrote this twice and stared at a blank Google Doc for like three days before I managed to get it to make sense. Thank you all for your patience! <3

Previous Chapter , Masterlist

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Every step back into the dark, the torches fewer and farther between, is both a relief and a pressing weight on your shoulders. Relief because you’re away from Amarantha’s cruel gaze, away from the leering stares of the crowd and your cousins; a relief because there’s a High Lord waiting for you to come back. You’d never admit it to him, but his presence is soothing, grounding--something you desperately need after the mess in the Throne Room.

The guards are in no hurry, unlike your initial removal from your cell; all four of them move in sync, having done this thousands of times. It must be a lot of work, tending to every person that Amarantha deems unworthy of her court--it has to be a lot, if the amount of locked cells you pass are any indication.

You keep your head to your chest as best you can around the collar, eyes pinched to avoid the constant change in lighting. They’ll adjust soon.

It’s because you’re focused on not tripping that you don’t see the guards ahead of you stop until you slam into the back of one of them. You reel backwards, expecting to be shoved or punished for the stumble, but the guards don’t react at all. They remain frozen, staring straight ahead.

A glance at the ones behind you to confirm they look the same; it’s as if time has come to a halt.

“Um, hello?” You risk waving a hand in front of one of their faces, fully expecting them to grab your wrist and throw you, but they still remain unmoving. Creeping a little closer, you can see the glazed look in their eyes, like they’re suddenly not seeing. One of them has drool running down the side of his face.

“They can’t answer you.”

You jump with a shout of surprise.

A female’s laugh echoes off the walls, footsteps approaching, though it’s still too dark to see where it’s coming from.

“Did you really think we’d leave you here with Amarantha?” Dagdan sneers as he comes to stand between the first two guards. He leans an elbow against one of their unflinching shoulders.

You can feel more than see Brannagh take up the spot between the other two guards at your back.

“You left with Tamlin,” you say. Maybe they really did get in your head and this is some terrible dream they’ve orchestrated to get into your memories. Despite the pain still throbbing in your skull from earlier, you check to make sure your shields are in place.

“The Throne Room sure,” Brannagh replies. “But the bitch is too busy having a temper tantrum to notice that her toy is even gone. By the time she figures it out, you’ll be gone.”

“Why? What do you want?” You ask, head spinning. They’d planned this. They’d riled Amarantha up on purpose to distract her from seeing them move you. They’d probably been in the guards’ heads from the beginning.

“As we told her,” Dagdan says, pushing off his perch to step closer to you.

You take a step back and bump right into Brannagh’s chest. Her bony fingers wrap around your arms and hold fast, her nails biting into your skin.

“Hybern wants you tested and ready, and I don’t believe for a second that you’re her submissive little pet.”

You focus on your breathing as pain prickles in your fingertips, your jaw, your powers itching to come out and protect you. One breath, and then another. You are in control here; you can do this, just like you practiced.

“Amarantha took my powers,” you say.

“And yet, you still reek of them,” Brannagh hisses in your ear.

“I think that’s sweat,” you retort.

Dagdan grabs the chain still hooked around your throat and yanks, cutting off your air supply as it jerks your head upward. “You think you’re really funny, don’t you?”

You gasp for breath as the metal digs into your skin. “I don’t have any powers!”

In the time it takes to blink, they’ve winnowed you away from the guards, out the tunnels, and to the lip of one of the Mountain’s cave entrances, where Tamlin remains waiting. The light is so blinding you throw your hands over your eyes with a scream that makes the twins chuckle in amusement.

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Dagdan says.

Sunlight might as well be flames against your skin, the burning making tears stream down your cheeks, even through the protection of your hands. Amarantha would have been better off blinding you in one fell swoop, it would have been less painful than this.

Indifferent to your pain, or perhaps relishing it, Dagdan yanks your chain and drags you out into the sunlight for the first time in months. Brannagh drags Tamlin in a similar manner, the High Lord still silently following along. You’d imagined this moment a thousand different times, in hundreds of different ways; the feeling of sunlight, of the wind against your skin was foreign, none of your dreams could do it justice. And the crispness of the air, the lack of dirt and decay in your lungs, it was enough to make you fall on your knees and sob--you would have, if you weren’t still being dragged.

“We’ll get to the wall and Tamlin will show us the gaps,” Dagdan explains, though the High Lord of Spring gives no confirmation that he hears him. “Once we find a weak spot, we’ll put you to good use.”

You can’t let that happen. If they find out the truth, they will use it against you, and then Rhys is dead, but there’s no chance for you to make a break for it yet. Trying to keep up with the pace they set so you’re not being dragged is useless, it’s like trying to run and after being caged for so long, your body can’t keep up. The exertion and the heat makes sweat drip off your forehead, the collar around your neck slick with it as it scrapes back and forth against your skin. You’ve got no choice but to follow them until they get to the Wall, and maybe then you can find a way to get free of them.

The Mountain exit has deposited you somewhere in the heart of Spring, though you don’t recognize the blooming forest at all. It must be on the other side of the High Lord’s estate, where you’d never had reason to be. If Tamlin recognizes his woods, his lands, he gives no indication of it, his emerald eyes still glassy and unfocused as Brannagh drags him like a dog on a leash behind her. You’ll have to find a way to get him free of her before you break away from them, there’s no way you can leave him alone with her like that. Amarantha has already done enough to him, you can’t abandon him to Brannagh too.

They walk for a long time, following deer paths through the woods. Though they carry no map, it’s clear they’ve studied one before coming with the way they pick their way around. Brannagh complains about the mud the deeper you all go, but you savor every splash of it against your skin, relish every brush of bushes and vines and the faint song from birds somewhere overhead. It might as well have been a lifetime ago since you’d last touched any of these things, your world shifted to nothing but stone and rock. You’d savor this, stressful as it was, when you eventually have to go back into the dark.

Because you will have to go back.

Even if you find a way to get Tamlin somewhere safe, you have to go back to fulfill your bargain. If you run away now the magic of the bargain could very well kill you.

Dagdan slows as the path ahead splits in two directions and you lean against a large tree to catch your breath, the bark rough against your skin. The noise of your company makes a squirrel jump from its roost and run for cover a few yards away and you watch it with the fascination of someone seeing the world for the first time. How are you supposed to go back into the dark when all this sunlight and fresh air exits? How can you go back into the cramped space of that tiny cell, with nothing but the cold to greet you when there is this kind of warmth in the world? It’s not fair!

“It’s right, you idiot!” Brannagh snarls when her brother hesitates.

“No it’s not,” he counters. “The map said left.”

“It’s right,” Tamlin says, his voice lifeless and slurred.

The twins turn to stare at him for a moment, before Dagdan huffs, “You better not be wrong.”

Tamlin goes back to staring into the sky like he hadn’t heard the threat and you push yourself off the tree to get a better look at him. It’s impossible to tell if he really is just high and delusional or faking it at this point, but if it’s the latter, maybe giving the twins the slip won’t be so difficult. You try to shift closer to him, but Dagdan yanks you away before you get more than a step.

They’re separating you intentionally, it would seem, with Brannagh staying a few feet behind you.

You check your shields as you walk, then the glamor, just to make sure they hadn’t heard any of the plans in your head.

The sun is high by the time the four of you make it out of the woods and into a set of grassy plains that stretch for half a mile before it meets a shimmering wall of magic. At the right angle it's almost invisible, save for a faint pink hue. The closer you get, however, the more your hair rises on end, the more the air smells sickly sweet from the magic used to hold the barrier in place. You’ve never been this close to the Human Lands before, and even though the Wall veils it from sight, you know it's just beyond.

“Ugh,” Brannagh says, crinkling her nose as you all pass through the waist high grass. “I can practically smell those human pests from here.”

Dagdan runs his tongue over his thin lips. “I’ve missed the fun we used to have with our pets, don’t you?”

You shiver under the implication in his tone. You’ve never met a human before, but they sound awfully fragile from the stories and you doubt they’d hold up under anything your cousins could throw at them.

“How close is the nearest hole?” Brannagh demands.

Tamlin slowly turns his head from side to side, golden hair flowing across his temples as he searches for the right spot. “About a mile,” he says finally, gesturing with his chin to the left of you.

The Wall doesn’t look any different from where you stand, but you don’t know enough about the magic used to build it to dispute his claims. Neither do the twins, as they don’t question it, and drag the two of you along the path indicated until you reach the spot. It’s of no help though, because the hole in question is about the size of a fist, just big enough for you to crouch and peer into the forest beyond the magic barrier. It smells different from this side of the Wall, newer yet dead somehow, like there’s no magic at all beyond the barrier.

“I should have figured you’d be stupid,” Dagdan snarls. Turning to his sister he adds, “I told you he was too pretty for his own good.”

You bite back a laugh despite yourself.

Brannagh yanks on Tamlin’s chain like one would a misbehaving dog. “I didn’t think I needed to tell you that we needed to be able to fit through it!”

“Oh,” Tamlin says with a shrug. “Then it’s the other way.”

And so, you go back the way you’d come, and further, to the next spot, larger than the last, but still not big enough for any of you to fit through, to which the High Lord insists there are more if you keep going further. It’s very much the same answer at each spot you find, making you walk back and forth until the path back starts to blur in your mind and the sun begins to set. It’s too dark to go back, especially with the growls of things from the edge of the woods rising to meet you, so they tether you and the High Lord to a large tree while they collect firewood to make camp.

You sink down into the damp earth with a grunt, legs sore beyond belief. It’s been too long since you’ve been able to properly stretch your legs.

Tamlin slowly lowers himself to sit next to you. “There’s a lot of boggie in this area,” he says, not looking at you. He keeps his gaze in the other direction, focusing on some bright flower bushes in the distance. There is no slurring in his speech anymore.

“So this was on purpose?”

He grins, pleased with himself. “I’m not totally useless.”

“It’d be a shame if we accidentally caught its attention,” you muse. There is a fog starting to creep in, stealing the warmth of the day, hiding whatever monsters lurk in the depths of the woods.

“They’re not armed enough,” he adds. “It’d be quick.”

Too quick, but what can you do about it in the end? “Can you get us unchained?”

“I think," he replies with a wince. “You still got claws you can use, just in case?”

“Me?” You say with feigned ignorance.

He risks a glance to where the twins are bickering about something in the tree line. “You don’t think I believe Rhysand wants something to do with you out of the goodness of his black heart, do you?”

You bristle at the words, fangs threatening to slip out. How dare him!

“He clearly means to use you for something, and after that fight with the chimera, I think it’s pretty obvious that he wants to wield you like Hybern did your mother.”

“It’s not like that,” you snarl. Rhys is nothing like Hybern!

“Isn’t it?” He hisses. “Let me guess, he tried to befriend you, acted all concerned about your powers being untested and untrained? He offered to help you get a handle on them, makes sure to run you through all the steps because he’s concerned about your well being?”

He doesn’t let you get a word in before he adds, “He did the exact same to me.”

You run a hand absently over the bargain mark. Rhys was many things but he'd never stoop so low as to use someone like that. It's unthinkable.

“And when I realized how he’d manipulated me, when I stopped giving him exactly what he wanted, do you know what he did?”

You watch the twins continue their argument into the darker parts of the edge of the woods to avoid looking at him.

“He killed my parents, my brothers. I am the only one left.”

That couldn’t possibly be true!

“Rhys gets what he wants, or he makes your life a living hell for it,” Tamlin snarls. “He’s just as bad as she is, he’s just better at hiding it.”

You've managed to reign in your temper until that point. “That’s not true!” You snarl. “He’s nothing like her!”

Tamlin huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “He’s really got you wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he? I bet the second you get out of here and away from them you’d run right back to him.”

You stiffen, not because it’s not true, but because all day the only thing you’ve been thinking about is how you don’t want to go back. Selfishly, greedily, all you could think about was how unfair it was to have to go back, you hadn’t once thought about him.

“He’d do the same for me,” you whisper, hand pressed tight to the bargain mark because you know he would. Without a thought for how long he’d been underground, without a thought for how unfair it was that he couldn’t keep his freedom, he’d come back for you, fight for you. How could you be so selfish and abandon him, bargain or not?

“You can’t be serious,” Tamlin replies. “Why would he come back for you?”

The ink is warm on your skin, a living, breathing thing that doesn’t just mark you, it’s part of you. Part of him. It’s a living tether that flows between your souls, ties you together. It’s him, but it’s you, it’s…

The realization slams into you like a brick. You’d known it too, that morning when Amarantha had taken your powers, something had shifted into place and you hadn’t been able to place it. “Because,” you stammer as you brush a mental hand against that tether, the one that had linked your minds together from the start, that had allowed him to reach for you on Calanmai all those years ago. It had been so easy for him to find you, not because of his powers, but because of what was already there. “Because he’s my mate.”

Mate. Rhys was your mate. It was as if all your questions had clicked into place, why you were always so eager to be near him, and him you, why he’d been so back and forth in the beginning. He was your mate.

Tamlin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause those are titles that mean anything.”

Shit. Your eyes go to Amarantha’s mark on his chest. “I’m sorry for everything she’s done to you.”

He growls, eyes flashing. “Bonds mean nothing. They’re just a way to make us animals that need to breed. They don’t guarantee protection or affection, it might as well be another collar.”

You glance over to where you’d last seen the twins. “So when they’re gone, will you fight her?”

“No,” he says. “I mean to disappear into the Human Lands and not look back.”

“But you can help stop her!” You persist.

“No one can, she’s too strong,” he returns, eyes now flicking to some noise his keen ears hear in the woods beyond you. “And if you’re smart, you’ll go too.”

You’d left your mate with Amarantha. “I can’t do that.”

He shifts so he can get a solid grip on your chains. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

There’s little time in between the moment he starts yanking on the chains, the branch they’re tied to groaning in protest, and the point when Brannagh starts screaming as whatever monster Tamlin had heard approaching finally makes itself known. You know the stories of the monsters Amarantha had unleashed on the courts, but you’ve never seen them for yourself, you have no idea what to anticipate. And truth be told, you’d rather not stick around to learn the truth. You help Tamlin grab the chains and pull until the tree starts to bow and bend under the strain. The chain is rough against your skin, tearing at your palms, but you grit your teeth and plant yourself firmly into the ground as you tug. Between the two of you, it doesn’t take long for the branch to snap off, the tree swinging wildly back and forth as the broken piece of wood goes flying through the air. Your chain slips free, flapping in the wind like a scarf as Brannagh continues to scream.

Tamlin doesn’t stick around to see if they’re being eaten or not, as soon as he’s untangled from the branch, he takes off in a sprint back towards the Wall, to whatever hole is big enough for him to escape through and into the Human Lands. You want to be mad at him for being a coward, but truth be told, you can’t. After all Amarantha has put him through, you hope he can find peace.

You hear Dagdan draw his sword behind you, hear the metal clang against something with claws, but the woods are shrouded in the fog now. Brannagh's armed as well, maybe they’re strong enough soldiers to make it out alive. You’re not going to stick around long enough to find out.

You’re used to the dark, it’s comforting to have nothing but the stars overhead. It had felt like a disadvantage before, but now, now it feels like home. You take off in a full sprint, holding the length of your chain in your hand to keep it from rattling too hard and attracting attention. Tree branches and vines slap at your arms, face and legs as you run, not daring a glance back, and it doesn’t feel all that different from the dream that brought you out on Calanmai, though a few flowers leading the way would have been appreciated this time. You’re moving on instinct more than anything, back the way that feels right.

Soon you stop hearing Brannagh’s screams, though you’re not sure if that means they’re dead, or if they’ve won. You push yourself as fast as you can go, lungs and legs burning in earnest now. You’ve got to make it back, you can’t get caught out here.

The Spring Court is a blur as you find the fork in the road you’d come to earlier and tear down the deer path that should lead you back to the Mountain. Distantly, over the sound of your own ragged breathing, you can hear something moving overhead, a distant flapping sound that’s far too heavy to be a bird. Nothing ever comes into view though, so you do your best to stay in the shadow of the bigger trees as you push through the underbrush.

Cauldron you’re out of shape! You can’t help but stop, hands on your knees, gasping for breath. Sweat drips off the ends of your hair as you bend over, struggling to get your breath back. When this is all over, you’ll take up running, you vow to the Mother.

Time's a ticking thing in your head and you force yourself to keep moving, even if you have to walk until you can breathe evenly again. A couple of steps is still movement in the right direction, still keeps some distance between yourself and whatever threats remain behind you. There’s a clearing up a head that you’ll need to be quick to get through unseen by whatever is flying around above you, you take care to get your breathing under control by the time you make it to the edge of it, and then sprint as fast as your legs can carry you.

It’s not fast enough. Something rock solid and incredibly fast slams into you from behind, sending you flying into the muddy earth with a breath stealing thud. Something with claws drags you up by the back of the neck, laughing, the sound a horrible wheeze of breath that makes your blood run cold. The Attor.

“Look what we have here,” it leers.

Your legs dangle off the ground, body limp in its clawed grip. “Let go of me!”

Darkness ripples in front of you, twisting like a vortex as it spits out the Evil Queen, fire wreathing her claw tipped hands.

Shit shit shit.

She sharpens the flames into points, like twin swords in her hands and she stalks towards you, snarling.

“Wait! Wait!” You plead.

“SILENCE!” She booms. “I’ve had enough out of you, you stupid little brat!”

You twist desperately to get out of the Attor’s grip, but it remains unmoving. If you can’t fight your way out, you have to be smart about this. “My Queen please, let me explain!” You can do this. You can make sure you get back to your mate in one piece, and maybe buy Tamlin the time he needs to escape. You all deserve to be free, there are no exceptions.

The playcatting makes her pause at least, so in a rush you say, “My cousins did something to my guards on the way back to my cell and they winnowed me out before I could even yell for help. I swear I wasn’t trying to escape.”

“Liar!” She snarls, but she doesn’t move any closer.

The Attor’s grip on your neck is bruising, makes your collar bite into your skin hard enough to draw blood. “They led us right into a bunch of boggies and I came back looking for help. Please, you have to save them, I think Tamlin is hurt!”

Invoking her mate makes all her reservations fly out the window. “Where is he?”

“I can take you there,” you say.

Maybe you’ll fulfill your bargain right here and now and let her own monsters finish her off, or maybe there will be such a mess you can convince her that Tamlin’s dead and it’s no use looking for him. One way or the other, you’re buying yourself time, so you take them back the way you’ve come.

Cauldron it feels like your legs are made of bricks by the time you stumble back into the woods. It’s a mess of gore and blood by the time you get back, Dagdan’s broken sword clutched in a hand detached from the rest of his mangled body. You vomit into the bushes when you see what’s left, what you and Tamlin have left them to.

Amarantha goes through the gore, kicking over the corpses of the monsters, searching for any sign of Tamlin among the bodies. You know there’s none, but there’s barely enough of Brannagh to identify, so you say, “Mother’s tits he was right here with them!”

The Queen remains rooted in a pool of blood for a long time before she throws her head back and roars so loud leaves fall off the trees. “My mate!” She wails. “My mate!”

You turn away like you can’t bear to look any more and truth be told, you can’t. Is this what you’ve become? You let them walk right into this trap without remorse, without a second thought, and they were dead. Horrifically, irreversibly dead. Their bodies as mangled as the chimeras you’d killed in the Pit, as mangled as if you had done it with your own claws. This was what you had been worried about in the beginning, this lack of hesitation, this easy decline into the monstrous death goddess your father wanted you to be.

And you’d do it again. It was not a question, you feel the surety of it in your soul. For your mate’s freedom, to fulfill this bargain and to be free, you’d do it again with no hesitation. You would play the monster over and over again.

“I do not smell him here, My Queen,” the Attor says as he sniffs around the bodies.

If his nose is that good he’ll be able to scent his tracks right through the gaps in the Wall. If she finds out he ran from her she’ll never let him have a moment of peace again.

“If he got away, where would he go?” You ask, pretending to look around for tracks. How long would it take for his scent to fade? How much time can you buy him with the Attor sniffing around like a bloodhound?

“He would come back to me,” Amarantha snarls. “My mate would come back to me, he would know better than to go anywhere else!”

“But if he was injured, maybe he’d go to his manor first, for aid?”

Amarantha’s eyes are wild as she nods, panic clouding her judgment. Good, you can use that. “We should head that way, see if he collapsed on the way maybe?”

Her eyes narrow. “Yes, yes I should. You, little mouse, are going right back to your cell.”

Back to Rhys. It’s an effort not to run your hand over the bargain mark, as if touching it might open the bridge in your minds so you could at least feel him at the other end of it. It’s the Attor’s sniffing that keeps you from acting on your impulses. Could bonds smell? You think they might. You have to be careful, have to play up the roll you’ve stepped into to ensure that no one is looking too closely at your motives. You’ve already gotten two people killed tonight, have already been stripped of all your dignity and agency, what is a little more? You throw yourself onto your knees, trying not to think about the blood and gore seeping into your skirts, feigning panic. “Please, please, My Queen, don’t lock me back up again. Please! I want to be useful, I want to make up for my mistakes. Please!”

“You’re wasting my time!” She growls.

The Attor grabs you by the neck again as she motions for him to follow, your skirts dragging through the gore as they set off in the direction of the manor. Despite her threats, she lets you be dragged along as she scours the ground for any signs of Tamlin. There’s none of course, but by an extreme stroke of luck, there is a wounded boggie crawling its way up the hill ahead of you, its blood trail hiding Tamlin’s lack of footprints. By the time it’s dispatched and she arrives back at the manor, the sky is starting to change colors, and you’re trying not to nod off.

Amarantha rips the doors off the manor when she finds it empty. “He can’t be dead! I’d feel it!” She insists to no one in particular.

The stone steps leading into the house look comfortable enough to curl up on and sleep. You give yourself a little shake to clear the thought away as the Attor says, “I’ll try and get a view from above, My Queen.”

Good, he won’t be able to scent Tamlin from the sky and he won’t be able to see him through the wards on the Wall. You’ve bought him a couple hours, you can do nothing but hope that it’s enough.

“Don’t return to me until you’ve found him,” Amarantha orders.

You’re swaying on her feet when she grabs your arm and snarls, “If I find out you delayed my search in any way I will make you wish you were never born.”

You nod, “We’ll find him, my Queen.”

She winnows you both, the empty swirling vortex flying past you before it deposits you back outside the mouth of one of the many caves. Dozens of guards are waiting, more chains in hand. Your hands shake at your sides at the sight of them.

You draw a breath, forcing yourself to not look at them as they approach. You were never really free anyway, none of you would be until she was dead and this Mountain was rubble. “What will you tell my father?”

One guard grabs the end of your chain, the other clamps a pair of binders on your wrist. But Amarantha grins as she says, “I’ll tell him they foolishly crossed you.”

“But I didn’t do anything!”

“Then it’ll be our little secret, won’t it, pet?”

----------------------------

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theostrophywife · 1 year

Note

can we please get some rhys fluff?

daylight.

i don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you i don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you i've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night and now I see daylight

author's note: i'm such a simp for rhys it's not even funny. just think about cuddling a soft, sleepy rhys after a night out and tell me you don't want to scream into the void. song inspiration: daylight by taylor swift.

The moon’s glow kissed your mate’s sleeping form with its silver light and enveloped Rhysand in glorious night.

You paused in the doorway, heels in your hand as you admired the High Lord with a small smile. It was nearly dawn when you finally stumbled out of Rita’s from your monthly girl’s night out. You thanked the Mother for giving you the ability to winnow because you sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to survive the ten minute walk home. Especially not in the tiny little dress and ridiculously high heels that Mor had talked you into wearing.

Regardless, it had been a fun outing. But as the bruised violet skies made way for spears of sunlight, you were more than glad to be home.

You padded softly across the wooden floor and slipped into bed as quietly as you could, trying your best not to wake your sleeping mate. Rhys was all but dead to the world, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Propping your head up on one arm, you took the opportunity to admire him in all his glory.

When he was awake, Rhysand was all seductive smiles and sultry gazes and while you certainly appreciated the sensuality that seemed to pour out of him with effortless grace, you’d come to love this softer side of him even more. There was something about these unguarded moments when he was sprawled across the bed, his large body nearly taking up half the mattress as he laid on his stomach, those dark lashes fluttering against his cheekbones, his soft lips slightly parted, raven hair sticking up in different directions as he cuddled against the pillow, his body half-turned to where you usually lay as if he'd sought you out even in his sleep, that made your heart absolutely ache.

It had taken a long time for Rhys to allow himself to be vulnerable like this. When you were first mated, he was often plagued by nightmares, so much so that he rarely slept and spent the night staring at the ceiling. You’d woken up countless times to find him observing you, his fingers tracing mindless patterns on your skin, to remind himself that he was here, he survived, and he had fought for this life with you. You remembered taking him into your arms and holding him, whispering that this was real. That it was safe to sleep because you’d still be there in the morning.

Night after night, you chased away those dark memories together. The nightmares came fewer and farther in between and now Rhysand could sleep through the night without even waking. Tears welled in your eyes as you reached out to caress his cheek. You were so proud of him.

This brilliant, selfless, resilient male that you were lucky enough to call your mate. Your heart squeezed in your chest and the emotions poured out of you in waves. You loved him so much that it was impossible to contain. That devotion rippled through your bond and made that connection sparkle in your soul.

Rhysand’s lashes fluttered, skimming the tops of his cheeks as he sleepily blinked up at you. Those violet eyes greeted you like the starkissed night and a slow grin crept across his handsome face. Wordlessly, he tugged you towards him.

You chuckled as Rhys cuddled against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply.

“Did you have fun?” he murmured sleepily. His body was warm as he pressed you against him, his arm snaking possessively around your waist.

“I did,” you confirmed, twining your fingers through his silky locks. “But I think I owe Rita a new chandelier.” Rhys raised a brow in response, waiting for an explanation. “It’s a long story.”

Your mate only chuckled. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, but I might be willing to risk Mor’s wrath and steal you from your friends the next time they try to take my mate away from me.”

“I was only gone for a few hours.”

Rhys pouted, his lips brushing against your neck. “It was a few hours too many,” he said as he tangled your legs together. “I missed you, darling.”

“My needy, clingy mate,” you teased, poking his nose. Rhys responded by digging his fingers into your side, causing you to giggle uncontrollably. You swatted his hand away and stuck out your tongue. “I missed you too, Rhys.”

Just as daylight streamed in through the windows, Rhysand smiled. A full, bright smile that put the rising sun to shame.

“I’m here,” you whispered. You hadn’t said the words in a long time. Not since the nightmares stopped. But with the dawn of a new day, you felt like it was important to remind Rhys how far he’d come.

How far you've both come.

You weren't just mates. Rhys was your friend, your lover, your anchor to reality when the world fell into chaos. He was the other half of your soul. Your love for each other was a story written in the stars.

Violet eyes filled with emotion as you held him against you. “You’re here,” he repeated.

“This is real.”

Rhys caressed your cheek, anchoring himself to the present. “This is real.”

“And we made it, against all odds." You fought and clawed and bled your way to this moment. Just so you could find each other. You would've done it all over again for your mate. "We made it.”

“We made it, darling.”

Your mate kissed your forehead, the gesture soft and intimate. He opened up the bond and let his emotions spill out over the connection. Rhysand felt cared for and loved. That warm light grew in your heart, twining your very existence with his. All of that love and devotion washed over you like a flood as Rhys let you in. In your arms, your mate knew that he was safe and sound. You held back the tears as you pressed a gentle kiss against his lips.

“I love you, Rhys.”

“I love you, darling.”

#I ONCE BELIEVED LOVE WOULD BE BLACK AND WHITE BUT ITS GOLDEN LIKE DAYLIGHT #i am sorry for screaming but i cannot be normal about this #rhys #rhys acotar #rhys fluff #rhysand #rhysand fluff #rhys fic #rhysand fic #rhys x reader #rhys x you

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divinemare · 3 months

Text

Legend of a Mortal Love

┊ ➶ rhys x oc

┊ ➶ part seven

part six

Ariadne had learned long ago that dreams didn’t last forever. But leaving Velaris, it was a different kind of sadness, of disappointment. She had immersed herself in a dangerous bubble of joy and normality, and now that it was all over, her reality made her fall twice as hard.

“I don’t want to do this,” Rhiannon whispered in a sob, the chains that should’ve been with her this whole time now in the female’s shaky hands.

Ariadne smiled sadly, trying hard not to let the tears fall down her own checks. It was enough with all of the ones Rhiannon and Morrigan were spilling already.

“It’s ok,” she whispered, only managing to make her voice stable that way.

Rhiannon raised her violet gaze to her, guilt and shame turning off the usual glow in the Night Court’s daughter’ eyes.

“No, no it is not,” she shook her head, shamefully lowering it to squeeze the chains so hard her knuckles turned white.

A big hand came to rest on top of the female’s small one, Rhiannon did not look up as she sobbed and let Rhysand take the chains from her. Ariadne shifted her gaze from her crying friend to the Heir’s hard expression.

Rhysand did not let a single emotion show in his face, while he gently asked for her hand.

Ariadne did not let the tears fall, did not let her head and gaze falter as she extended both her wrists to the male.

Slowly, very painfully slowly, Rhysand put on the chains on her wrists, slowly brushing the still healing skin with his calloused fingers.

A weight so big it almost broke her heart completely sank into her as soon as she heard the click of the chains closing. Yet she still didn’t looked away from Rhysand’s violet eyes. Not until Morrigan’s arms wrapped around her, almost knocking her off if it weren’t for Rhiannon’s arms that joined the hug soon after.

Both females clang to her tightly, while she could only stand there and pray all this to be over soon.

When they finally parted, Cassian came near to give her a little pat in the shoulder.

“Until next time, little bird. Don’t stop singing, I can’t wait to hear what you come up with next,” despite the tense feelings the big Illyrian male was letting out, he managed to wink an eye at her and smiled sweetly, making Ariadne smile too and nodding her head in only response.

“Do you have it with you?” Azriel asked in a low voice when he stepped over where Cassian had been.

“Yes,” Ariadne nodded again, and the male nodded back.

“Good luck, Ariadne.”

She smiled at him with gratefulness, and at last, not standing a second more inside of that house without the possibility of breaking in tears, alongside Rhysand and Rhiannon, she excited the townhouse, saying her final goodbyes not only to the people she now would never be able to get out of her head, but to the city that would haunt her dreams like a cruel reminder of the life that couldn’t possibly be hers.

༺ ♡ ༻

The melody of her lost dreams drummed in her head as she stared at the infinite night sky of the Court of Nightmares. It was the same sky that she had stared at every night in Velaris, yet it felt so painfully different that it left an aching feeling in her chest.

“Ariadne, not again, please, get back to work!” She was snapped out of her daydreaming by Tara’s whispered voice.

“Yes, sorry,” stepping away from the window, Ariadne had no other choice but to follow her friend’s orders, knowing very well that if they didn’t finished their work, it would be her fault.

Ever since she came back, it had become difficult to follow the rhythm of her life. As if she hadn’t been living it for the past 19 years.

At end of the day they hadn’t reached their mark, so it meant they wouldn’t get their ration of food. Ariadne told Tara to go to at least get some rest while she picked up everything, and while she worked alone, she had the time and space to mumble all the melodies in her head without anyone interrupting.

“I thought working hours were over,” well, almost anyone.

This time, unlike every other time, Ariadne did not jump in surprise at the velvet silky voice behind her, nor was she surprised to find the winged male once she turned around.

“It is, I just didn’t finished the mark today and so I have nothing to rush for, so I’m picking everything up while Tara went to sleep,” she explained absentmindedly without looking up at him from her work.

“The mark?” Rhysand asked with curiosity.

Right. Of course he did not knew what happened in his own Court.

“You don’t finish the mark of the day, you don’t get your night ration of food, so, here I am,” the girl sighed, and straightened her back with a soft moan when her muscles ached.

“You haven’t eaten anything since lunch?”

“Well, they didn’t serve appetizers after lunch break, so no, I haven’t.”

Normally, Rhysand would bite the inside of his mouth to stop the smile on his face at one of her impertinent comments, yet this time there was no hint of amusement in his violet eyes when Ariadne turned to look at him surprised with all the silence, something much more darker lurked in them this time.

Uncomfortable with the new tense silence, Ariadne picked up everything she had gathered from the floor and took a deep breath, anxious for getting out of there as fast as she could.

“Well, if you excuse me, I’m dead tired, I’ll go leave this and-”

“Come with me to Illyria,” he interrupted her so abruptly Ariadne had no chance to get a grasp on his words.

She was speechless for a moment, surely she had to have heard incorrectly because there was no way he had…

“What?” She questioned the male, still stunned.

“Come with me to Illyria, Ariadne, you’ll stay with me. Then we could go back to Velaris, you would be working for me and not my father.”

A sudden rush of uncontrollable anger rushed through the tip of her toes to the tip of her head. She had received tons of improper proposals from High Fae males over the years, some taken without her consideration anyway, but this… it had to be the most shameful one so far.

The equipment in her hands fell to the floor with a loud thud, and despite the heaviness in her chains, she approached Rhysand with an accusing finger pointed at him.

“Listen, you may be the High Lord’s son, Rhysand, and I may be just a slave, but what makes you think you have the right to use me like that? What makes all of you High Fae think you have the right?!”

The male took a little step back with a face so full of confusion Ariadne almost believed him.

“Ariadne, I don’t know-”

“I’m not a toy, Rhysand, I will not be your toy!” With tears burning in her eyes, she waited for the struck, the cruel words, the promises of execution, because this time she had surely, most certainly, stepped over the line as a slave.

But none of those came.

Ariadne stared at the male with her chest falling and rising with so much force it was beginning to hurt. The tears she refused to spill burned her eyes to the point she had to shut them close for a second to send them away. Then she observed with a heavy heart how Rhysand’s face did not twist in anger but in shameful realization.

“Ariadne, I-” he tried to give a step closer to her, but she immediately gave one back.

Rhysand sighed, his head dropped down for a moment and his usually lightened up eyes were so dark they almost turned black. When he looked up at her again, a softness that shook Ariadne’s heart without explanation surprised her.

“I never had the intention to… use you, Ariadne. Not once did it even crossed my head. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression, I truly, deeply am. My proposal was not for you to be my mistress in any way, I just… I wanted to do something right, Ariadne, for once in my life, I wanted to do something right.”

She was out of words, so stunned she had to remind herself more than once to breath. Now she couldn’t take her eyes off of Rhysand’s, trying to look for something that told her that he was not being truthful, but she found nothing; on the contrary, only genuine shame tainted the beautiful eyes.

It made her feel weird, like the night in the balcony of the townhouse, or the night in the opera as well. Feelings she still couldn’t recognize flooded her chest with a pressure that was avoiding air to come in.

“Just… think about it, would you? I want you to come with me because you trust me, not because you feel obligated to.”

Ariadne didn’t had the words to answer to that, so she simply stared at the male with a stunned expression.

Rhysand, after minutes in silence, sighed and lowered his head once again. When he looked back at her, his eyes were so off that it made her want to give a step closer to him to see if that way she could catch one of the tiny stars she always saw dancing in his violet gaze. But her feet stayed planted in her place, unable to move, her mouth unable to pronounce words.

He nodded then, putting his hands in the pockets of his black pants and tucking his wings tightly behind him, a movement Ariadne had noticed when he was upset or uncertain, and walked away from her without saying anything else.

She stood there for a moment longer, weighing every single word that had been said in her mind with both a racing and a troubled heart.

༺ ♡ ༻

She hadn’t had a minute of sleep last night, her head spun all night not leaving her alone for one second. Her conversation with Rhysand replaying over and over again on her mind.

How did he do it? She asked herself at least a million times. How did he managed to make her lose her balance, to surprisingly trip on everything he did and said every single time?

She stoped looking for an answer to that question once it was obvious she was getting closer to sunrise without rest than to understanding Rhysand’s mind.

But the thing that scared her the most wasn’t how much space the male took in her head, or the fact that her chest hadn’t stoped pressing her heart with enough force she had to take deep breaths. But the fact she was actually considering his offer, and worse, than a little hidden-under-lock part of her wanted to actually trust him.

Sleep deprivation must have been fucking with her head, because when she woke up, Rhysand and his proposal was everything she could think of the entire day.

She couldn’t even concentrate in her tasks, Rhiannon had noticed it immediately when they were together in the kitchen for their “secret tea spilling session”, or so the female liked to call it.

Rhiannon had asked her what was on her mind, and Ariadne had expertly lied saying she was wondering what Rita had thought about the songs Cassian had delivered for her. Rhiannon had easily bought it, and promised she would soon visit Rita to ask her personally.

Later on that day, and by a miracle achieved with a little cheating help from Rhiannon’s powers, Ariadne finished the mark of the day, and was able to eat the insipid dinner they allowed her to eat.

Sitting at the tired, drained circle of human slaves that had been lucky enough to eat that night, Ariadne was even more attentive than ever.

Despite their horrible, meaningless lives, there were whom mastered smiles to try and keep up the rest of the group’s spirits, others whose eyes were no longer alive, and who seemed rather an empty vessel than a living being. Ariadne wondered just how many time it would take her to become that way.

Then she looked at Tara, eating right beside her. The girl would never admit it, but some nights, Ariadne could hear her praying to the Mother, crying the few tears she still had left, showing anything but the rigorous seriousness she always wore with flawless pretend.

Would Ariadne be able to leave her here? They had been together since both were captured by the High Fae and brought to the Night Court as slaves, could Ariadne leave that last part of her past live behind her?

Ariadne didn’t thought she had the courage.

“Something has been troubling you, more than usual,” Tara’s soft voice spoke slightly beside her, for only Ariadne to listen.

“It’s nothing,” the brown-haired girl shook her head and looked down at her unfinished meal, the cheese and hard-stone bread staring back at her with mocking reminder of the delicious meals she’d had a taste of in Velaris.

“I’m not stupid, Ari, I know you might think I don’t notice your meetings with Lady Rhiannon in the kitchen, or worse, how the Heir always seems to appear right where you are. Or the way you’ve changed since you left the Palace with them. What happened there? Where did you even go?”

Ariadne’s mouth dried and her gut twisted at her friend’s words. She did not answer for a really long time, didn’t even look up at Tara’s eyes because she knew very well that if she did so, Tara would read the truth from her eyes.

“I see something in your eyes every time you look at him, you know?” At those words, Ariadne did look up to the red-head, confusion lacing her face.

“What do you mean?”

“Ariadne, if you don’t accept his offer, you’ll regret it. You’ll drown here, vanish to an empty void where all those dreams that keep you always staring at the stars will be lost forever.”

Ariadne’s heart raced at an unsteady pace, her throat dried again, and she had to swallow two times to get herself to speak.

“How did you-“

“Don’t let them drown you,” but Tara did not let her finish her sentence as she stood up and walked away towards the sleeping area.

Leaving Ariadne’s head spinning with something both similar to dread and hope.

༺ ♡ ༻

Three weeks had passed since her conversation with both Tara and Rhysand. The male had gone to Illyria right after, in the company of his sister and mother. So Ariadne had had time both to miss Rhiannon, and to think throughly about the Night Court’s heir proposal.

Already neck deep in work, Ariadne tried to concentrate all her energy in her tasks, if only to make her friend’s words —and Rhysand’s—, leave her alone for a moment.

“If a male, said, invited you to spend some time at Rita’s even though he had never ever done something like that before, what would you think?” Rhiannon’s voice sounded behind her, entering the kitchen.

Ariadne could not hold back the little smile at the female’s voice, they hadn’t seen each other in almost a month, and it felt good to have the only good thing in this palace for her back.

“So, Azriel finally mastered up the courage huh,” she smiled sideways to the violet eyed female, watching from the corner of her eyes how a pink flush tinted her tanned cheeks.

“Well, I don’t know, considering Cassian and Mor will be there too, and when Rhys finds out he’ll get all dramatic and say we didn’t invite and come either way, I… oh Mother, if Rhys goes, Azriel will never do anything,” the female sat at the kitchen’s table and dropped her head in her hands.

Ariadne let out a soft laugh, she had never seen someone so smitten over someone else as Rhiannon was over Azriel, and well, Ariadne couldn’t really blame her, Azriel was not only impossibly gorgeous, but with the kindness he had shown Ariadne when they met… she couldn’t help but be rooting all the way for them.

“Relax, everything will be alright, I’m sure he’s just working up his courage little by little.”

“I really fucking hope the Mother hears you.”

Ariadne laughed again and turned around with a little shake of her head while finishing the cleaning she had been doing, but when a male voice entered the kitchen, she almost hit her head with the counter on top of it.

“I knew you’d be here, snatching sweets from Pan again?” Rhysand’s amused, velvet voice rang in her ears and traveled all the way to her stomach, making her have to inhale deeper for air.

He didn’t notice she was there, she thought, since he had yet to make any comments in her direction, so she ever so slowly turned to look at the siblings, only to find out Rhysand had already spotted her and, in fact, was looking straight at her.

He only gave her a soft smile, and that was it.

“Mum’s been looking for you,” snatching the sweet Rhiannon was about to get on her mouth and eating it himself, Rhysand gained a dark look from his sister and a pinch on the arm.

The female stood up with the grace of a princess and, before leaving the kitchen, turned back to look at Ariadne to say her goodbyes with a wink and a smile. Adiadne did the same, and when Rhiannon was gone, only Rhysand and her remained looking at each other, with the sounds of the rest of the kitchen staff seeming to stay behind as they did not looked away.

“You’re back,” she managed to say, standing off the floor and wiping off her skirt, as if that would do anything to help the dirt that completely covered it.

“Only to accompany Rhi and my mother, I’ll be back to Illyria tomorrow.”

“Oh, tomorrow?…” She had breathed the question rather than spoke it, Rhysand only nodded in confirmation, putting his hands on the pockets of his pants and… tucking in his wings.

Silence settled over them either a strange feeling, Ariadne wanted to get the words off her mouth, but her lips seemed to be under a spell of utter uselessness.

“I have to go look into some affairs before parting, I’ll leave you to your work,” with a heavy sigh, as if he too had been holding his breath, Rhysand stumbled momentarily over his own steps while turning around, but tried to act as if nothing had happened to rush out of the kitchen door.

“Rhys!…and,” Ariadne called behind him, and he turned around so quickly when he heard his nickname he again almost stumbled.

But as soon as Ariadne tried to repair her slip adding the final letters of his name, she could almost swear she saw something like disappointment flicker in his violet gaze.

“I…” Now, with his striking eyes looking at her again, she had fallen silent once more.

“If you don’t accept his offer, you’ll regret it. You’ll drown here, vanish to an empty void where all those dreams that keep you always staring at the stars will be lost forever.”

Tara’s words replayed in her mind, like they had done for the last three weeks.

What else did she had, if not for dead parents and a missing, surely dead brother. There was nothing left for her there, if there had ever been something to begin with. Just then did she realized the terrifying truth of Tara’s words; slowly, that place was drowning her, as it had with every human life that had been unfortunate enough to end up there. Her dreams, everything her father had taught her, fought for, and died for, everything would eventually be lost in the sea of darkness that would sooner or later swallow her up.

So, if her fate was already so evidently clear, what could she lose?

“Okay,” was everything she could bring herself to say with a small nod, and prayed her eyes could communicate what she wanted to Rhysand. The male read it loud and clear, and, if Ariadne’s eyes did not fooled her, sucked in a breath of almost relieve. He was fighting back a smile, and had to shift the weight of his body in his legs to keep from moving too much.

“Okay,” he answered with another nod, and both said nothing after, only stared at each other with that intensity only they seemed to share.

And in those star-filled eyes, Ariadne could’ve sworn she had just sealed her fate.

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bloodycassian · 2 years

Note

Can you write a fic with rhysand where the reader experiences her first starfall?

it's been a while since this ask.

STARCROSSED - Reader x Rhysand. They realize they're mates.

Dresses, suits and court colors adorned every inch of the party space. Looming in the dark corners were Azriel and Cassian, along with other court guards. A silent warning to the visitors from other courts - “Try me.” Straight from Rhysand.

Tensions with the southern courts had mounted in the last year. Spring and Autumn challenging the new borders set since Amarantha and The King had been wiped out. They were bold in their claims to new land, and you wondered just what Rhys’ plan to handle them was. But this night was not to handle court business. Tonight was to enjoy, and revel in the upcoming turn to spring among the solar courts.

The long winter was past, and it was time for the world to be born again soon. For the streets of Velaris to flourish with fresh blooms and be free of winter boots on the snow covered walkways. The snow that now shimmered in the streetlights far below the House of wind.

“It’s hard to tell where to look sometimes, when the city is so.. Peaceful.” Rhysand met you on the balcony, drink in hand and looking dapper as ever. His hair pushed back, he almost seemed relaxed for once. Despite the potential enemies at your back.

“When will it start?” You asked, unable to hide the eagerness in your tone. You’d heard about Starfall since you were a child, picture books in Day court showing the shimmering flights falling from the sky, only revealed in night court. You’d wanted to visit, to be able to see such a sight ever since.

Rhys leaned closer to you, and squinted one eye shut, pointing out over the distant mountains. “When the stars above that middle peak appear, it usually begins.” You leaned in to where he pointed, following his slender finger out to the barely visible snow covered peaks. You sighed. Not even a hint of stars from the area yet, it seemed.

“You’ll freeze if you wait out here all night for it. You should come with me, grab a drink.” The high lord turned, leaning against the balcony railing and looked in towards the dimly lit party that raged on. The fiddlers and drum beats were much quieter out here, in the cool wind that breezed by.

“Is that an order, high lord?” You turned to face him, taking your eyes off the skyline. His grin shone, toothy and almost wild.

“If you want it to be.” He offered his arm, waiting to escort you back inside. You knew if you didn't accept, he’d stay out in the cold with you. You knew he’d stay, no matter what. He was persistent like that. You’d known the male long enough that his mannerisms weren’t foregin to you any longer. So, you decided to trust him. To trust he knew how much this first Starfall meant to you. You accepted his arm and followed him inside.

Rhys’s hand was warm against your lower back when he escorted you back to the balcony later. After casual interactions and polite conversation with other court masters, he excused you both before Eris had a chance to speak with you together.

Rhys’s smug look when you glared at him forgave any misstep. Being snide to a political enemy wasn’t the smartest thing, but the look on Eris’s face after being blatantly ignored was well worth it.

Darkness had swept over the valley below the house of wind, and brought with it a fresh billowing snow drift that danced over the rooftops and streets of Velaris. Watching it made it seem unreal to even be here. To be on the verge of watching something you’d fabled over for years at home. At your previous home, that was. Rhysand had invited you into his court and you’d never looked back, nearly ten months ago. The position he’d offered had come with more gold marks than you could spend in a lifetime. There was no way you could have said no, and once you were pledged as a part of the inner circle, he had been the greatest asset to your livelihood. He’d been determined to see you be successful, and willing to train you in even the most basic things hands on. From learning the city, to being your own personal tour guide for all of the night court, he’d been there every step of the way.

And now, under the millions of shimmering stars, he was your narrator. “Many of my court see Starfall as a new beginning. Something to symbolize a start of something better. We’ve had rough years, but every starfall makes people hopeful. It brings people closer, and makes them want to believe we’re capable of something better.”

He paused for a long moment, looking skyward as the horizon began to glow a dull green. “And what do you think?” You managed, unable to look away from the light that budded from over the sea.

His inky black hair began to shine, reflecting the stars that raced over the sky. You breath escaped you. The blue and green, white and purple stars that hurtled over the ocean were unreal. “I think hope can be dangerous.” He said quietly, eyes following the first of the stars.

It was less like they were flying, and more like crashing. Like the colors were being thrown across the ocean straight above you. They passed by with ferocity, like a rage filled strike of a sword. Your smile fell, and Rhys turned to you. “Hope can be what keeps us alive, though.”

Shadows danced over his cheekbones, his outfit seeming to glow under the ever changing stars that passed by. You hesitated before saying anything. Before you could say something stupid to ruin the moment, you wondered just what his hope had been the fifty years he was stuck under Amarantha’s regin. If the hope were simply to be free, or if it were just to survive.

You didn’t want to speak it. Didn’t want to taint the world, this moment with her name. With the awful memories that you were sure he had of her. “What do you hope for now, High lord?” You asked, hoping to lift the mood.

A smirk, and a bashful look crept over his features. Hesitation. You’d never seen him so… shy before. It was strange to see on such a confident, cocky at times male. “I only hope for you. I hope one day I may take you as mine, and that you’d accept this offer.” Your heart soared. Tiny gasps of air were the only things you could manage. He held out a hand, and two small vials appeared.

“I had a alchemist in Haddock make this… it’s meant to tell if someone’s your mate without having to… pressure them into anything.” He held one up to the shimmering skyline and waited. Not hurried, not impatient and waiting for an answer from you… just… how he’d been for the last ten months. Patient and kind, and utterly hospitable.

“I-” You could hardly manage breathing, let alone words. Then, you found yourself rushing to him, pulling him down by the neck and forcing your lips together. He was stiff, only for a moment before melting into you. A sharp sound below you, and his hands going to cup your face and return the ferocity, the urgency of the kiss.

Something deep in your abdomen seemed to shift. Something that had always been present seemed to grow, and coil and burst from where it had been hiding for your entire life. It bloomed and presented itself under the warmth of his lips, calling to him. Needing more of him. Needing and reaching out to every bit of his being as he held you.

His eyes shone when he pulled away, a devastated look across his features. He did not let go of you, his hands finding yours and pressing them to the center of his chest. “I have-” He cut himself off, biting his bottom lip before continuing. “This is what I’ve hoped for. I just didn’t know it was you. All this time I’ve hoped for you, not knowing for certain if you were something new and fun for me… or if were something more. In here-” He pressed your hands harder against his muscled body. “It’s ached. For months it has been pained, only relenting when I’m around you.”

The stars seemed to cover every inch of the sky now. The peak of the shower of colors. “I don’t think I need a potion to tell me…” You started. But before you could finish the thought, he was kissing you. Warm and delicate, and winnowing you away at the same time.

#reader x rhys #reader x rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhys fic #rhysand fic #acotar fic

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starstruckunknown-princess · 1 year

Text

I’m Such A Fool For You - Black Rose Part 4

Summary: The Confrontation! Confessions!

Pairings: Rhysand x OC

Warnings: Angst, talk of therapy, emotions, boundary setting

Word Count: 2758

A/N: So this is the beginning of an arc that may make people uncomfortable. I have thoughts about mates as SJM has defined them (too limiting, restrictive, I don’t think mates are the end-all be-all of love) so I’m going to play with the concept a bit for probably the rest of the story. Don’t like it? Don’t read it. It starts here. Title for this chapter comes from “Linger” by The Cranberries.

Likes/Reblogs/Comments are so so appreciated! I’m looking for feedback on this new direction I’m taking, so please let me know what y’all think!

Banner by me, dividers by firefly-graphics

Part 2 | Part 3

Exiting Hypatia’s office later that week, Niamh had to raise a hand to shield her eyes from the bright sun. Across the street she spotted Azriel casually leaning against the railing overlooking the Sidre. He noticed her and approached, falling into step beside her as they walked down the street.

It had become a bit of a tradition between them — Azriel would fly her to her appointment, wait for her to be done, and then they’d go get lunch together at a cafe on the corner that was not too busy and served good food.

They slid into their usual booth and Azriel asked how her session was that day. She gripped her hands together on the table in front of her.

“I think I’m ready, Az.”

“Ready for?” he asked, hazel eyes gliding over the menu even though he would order the same thing he did every time they came.

“For seeing Rhys again. To have the conversation. Put this all behind us.”

His menu hit the table and he regarded her blankly. Noticing a tremble in his eyebrow, Niamh tried to see behind his blank mask. While his face didn’t give anything away, his shadows twitched and swirled uncomfortably. His wings tensed slightly, then relaxed.

He was hiding something.

Niamh’s head tilted to the side, “What are you not telling me, Az?”

He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it as the server approached their table. They placed their order with him and he dashed away.

Az sipped from his water glass in order to avoid her gaze. “His mate is here this week.”

“Oh. Have you met her?” she asked since it was what she thought her response should be, not that she particularly cared about the answer.

He shook his head, “Not yet. He hasn’t brought her to Velaris.”

“Because once he does, Tamlin will find out, and then the whole world will know.”

“Right. He’s hosting her at the Moonstone Palace until he’s sure she can be trusted.” Niamh hummed in agreement, and Azriel continued, “Are you sure you want to talk to him now?”

Niamh shrugged, “Hypatia thinks I’ve made good progress and I want to get this behind me, especially when tensions with Hybern are increasing. Although I’ve decided I’m not going back to my apartment; I quite enjoy having a yard.”

Azriel chuckled, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Right. Speaking of, any luck finding the Queens in the dreamscape?”

“No, not yet. I found a few of the palace servants but that’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

Their food arrived, set in front of them by the server. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Niamh broke the quiet.

“Will you bring him to the house? Once his mate goes back, that is. I…I don’t want to interrupt their time together.”

“Yeah, I can bring him to you. I think she’s going back tomorrow, I’ll try to get him there on Saturday,” he assured her, “If you’re positive that you’re ready for this.”

She nodded. “I’m sure, Az. Thank you for double checking.”

A flash of something despairing flickered in his eyes that betrayed the half-smile on his lips. “Anytime, Niamh.”

The next few days Niamh spent tidying up her small house and finishing the numerous small projects she’d started but somehow never finished. Replacing the trim around the front door, sweeping up the dirt she’d tracked in from her garden, clearing all the papers and books off her kitchen table. She made sure all her indoor plants were happy, then spent the rest of the day in her garden tending to the flowers and vegetables and herbs she’d planted.

She loved her little house, and she wanted to show Rhysand that she was thriving on her own. Her evening was spent getting her person in order — face and hair masks, a manicure, and the best-smelling body lotions she could find.

Saturday morning came and, as promised, Azriel knocked on her door with the High Lord in tow. Niamh glanced out the window and had some of the wisteria vines open the door for her. Azriel let Rhys enter first. The High Lord she’d been avoiding brought with him a wave of nerves and she clasped her hands together in front of herself.

She braced herself for a tongue-lashing, but it never came. Azriel closed the door and Rhys took a few more steps inside. He was looking around at her vine- and art-covered walls, her stacks of papers and books. Everywhere, it seemed, but at Niamh herself.

Making eye contact with Azriel she shot him a look that asked, ‘the fuck?’ The shadowsinger only shrugged.

Niamh rolled her eyes impatiently, then broke the silence with, “It’s good to see you, Rhys. Welcome to my home.”

Rhys, having bent to read the titles of some of her books in a stack in the far corner of the room, straightened.

“You live here? I never would’ve guessed.” Some of the tension in the room evaporated as they both smiled. From the corner of her eye she saw Az slip into the shadows to give them privacy.

“Do you want some tea?” she asked, gesturing toward the kitchen door. “It usually helps in these situations, makes it so there are things to hold and stir…”

“Tea sounds lovely,” Rhys said, smoothly opening the door and holding it for her. She swept over to the stove and filled the teapot with the pre-boiled water she’d prepared. Using her powers she had some of the vines grab two teacups and set them on the table before pulling out Rhysand’s chair. He chuckled and sat down.

The vines poured the tea into the teacups and Niamh took a dainty sip. Rhys’s hands hovered around his cup, his violet eyes fixated on them. She took the opportunity to scrutinize his appearance.

Still gorgeous as ever, his skin having regained its natural golden brown tone in the months since he returned. His hair was a little grown out and his features were drawn, like he hadn’t been sleeping well, but he was still unfairly good-looking.

“Azriel tells me you’ve been seeing a therapist,” Rhys interrupted the quiet moment and Niamh quickly looked away so he didn’t catch her staring. His long fingers danced with the steam rising from his cup.

“Yeah, Hypatia. Her office is right on the Sidre, she’s really helped me. Put things in perspective, figure out why I’m so…” Niamh could only gesture to her temple. She didn’t want to apply words like ‘crazy’ or ‘broken’ or ‘fucked up’ because of the negative connotations.

“That’s great,” Rhys said, “I’m...impressed.”

“Impressed?”

“It takes a lot of guts to hide from a High Lord in his own court and get his closest friends to lie about it.”

There it was. Rhys played offense right from the start, like she knew he would. Her sins laid bare at her feet. Yet there was no malice in his tone, no gathering storm behind his words. He actually seemed amused, maybe even a little impressed as he claimed.

Niamh bit back the sarcastic answer that nearly leapt off her tongue, knowing that she needed to have an actual conversation with Rhys instead of joking all her problems away. She stared at her hands, the delicate tea cup, the warm brown liquid inside it while she formulated her answer.

“I was scared. Ashamed of myself. All I wanted to do was hide away from you so that maybe I could pretend…” she trailed off, the confession stuck at the back of her throat like a dry cracker.

“Pretend what?” Rhys asked softly, his right hand moving towards her left one but stopping midway. She could feel his eyes on her face as hers didn’t move from her tea. The inside of her bottom lip grew raw from her nibbling.

Just say it. Say it. He won’t know unless you say it.

She forced out in a barely-audible whisper, “That you still loved me.”

The space between her eyes prickled and she blinked rapidly, willing away the impending tears. Rhys’s right hand lifted and cradled the back of her head, drawing her toward him. She let him settle her face on his shoulder. His other arm encircled her in a hug and she hated how much he felt like home. How much she had missed him.

So she let the tears form and fall onto his black shirt, his citrus and ocean warmth emanating from underneath it. He pulled her closer and held her tight. His lips graced her brow with quick, affectionate pecks while he stroked her hair. It wasn’t until she felt her temple growing wet did she realize he was crying too.

Pulling back, she looked up at him. Her ex-lover, ex-fiance, ex-ex-ex. His eyes bloodshot, tear tracks marring his cheeks, he met her eyes and captured her chin in one hand so she couldn’t look away.

“I do,” he said, voice raw with emotion, “I do love you, Niamh. I need you. I need you. Come back to me, just come back, please.”

Echoes of his time Under the Mountain rang in her ears. Her visits to him while he slept, providing him relief from the horrors he witnessed on a daily basis, he’d said the same thing. She’d interrupt his nightmares of Amarantha writhing above him, of the torture she made him commit on others. He would beg her to stay, beg the world to stop turning so he wouldn’t have to wake up. His dreams became his only means of escape, the only place he could see the sun. She had been the one who gave that to him.

“I’m here, Rhys,” she cupped his face in her hands, letting her thumbs clean up his mess of tears while her heart launched out of her chest. “I’m right here.”

He pulled her into his lap, deftly flinging one of her thighs over his so she was straddling him before crushing her against his broad chest. She’d missed how he could manhandle her so easily. Memories bubbled up that she pushed back down — now was not the time.

“This is torture,” he mumbled into her hair.

“What is?” she asked, pulling back to see his expression. Her mid-back rested on the edge of the table. Rhys’s grip loosened and he rested his hands on her waist, gaze downcast between them.

“Loving,” he finally said, letting his fingers trace random patterns along her sides. “How can I love you and Feyre at the same time? How can I want you both so badly it hurts?”

His violet eyes looked up at her from under his lashes. From this angle and the earnestness in his voice, he almost looked childlike. The look was begging for guidance, advice, answers. She brushed some of his hair off his forehead and he leaned into her touch.

“Because love isn’t pie, Rhys. There isn’t a finite amount of it in the world, it’s endless, infinite, and can’t be contained or willed away.”

“When did you get so wise?” he half-chuckled, fingers toying with the ends of her hair behind her back.

“Fuck you, I’ve always been wise.” She tapped the tip of his nose with her finger and earned a surprised look from him. Gratifying. “Remember when you wanted to dye your hair candy-apple red?”

He laughed then, a real laugh that split his face open and crinkled his eyes. When he stopped, his eyes settled on hers and she watched as he seemed to review all their memories together. She’d long since built up her mental shields against his demati powers, but the fondness written on his face told her everything she needed to know.

He would always love her.

And she couldn’t deny him that.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice low and seductive.

That’s when a tidal wave of reality crashed down on Niamh’s head, dousing the fire that was burning through her veins. He still had a mate.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she admitted, pushing herself off of his lap and backing a few steps away. Grimacing at the feel of slickness between her legs, she also noticed how Rhys’s black pants were slightly tented at the front. How easily she could’ve slipped him free and taken him—

Focus, Niamh.

Rhys dragged a hand down his face. “Right. Feyre.” He leaned back, draping himself over the kitchen chair, his whole body open to her in case she wanted to come back.

“I just don’t want it to jeopardize anything, if she found out that you and I were sleeping together when she hadn’t accepted the bond—”

“She doesn’t know.” He interrupted the beginning of her babbling.

“What?”

“Feyre doesn’t know she’s my mate. She’s still in love with Tamlin and…if he makes her happy, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t interfere.”

Niamh gaped at him, utterly lost for words. “She’s in love? With my brother!?!? And you haven’t tried to talk her out of it? Haven’t even told her she’s your…fucking shit, Rhys, are you actually stupid?”

His hands turned into tight fists and his jaw hardened. “Everything she did Under the Mountain, she did so she could be with him. What kind of complete and utter asshole would I be if I ruined that for her? It would only reinforce what she already thinks of me and I would risk losing her forever.”

Living in Velaris for so long, Niamh had forgotten all about the Night Court’s terrifying reputation and the mask that Rhysand was forced to wear in order to maintain it. That was another reason he relished in their dream visits — it was the only place it was safe for him to be his true self while he was imprisoned.

“I suppose that makes sense, but Rhys, what are you going to do if they get married?”

“I made a deal with her Under the Mountain. One week a month, she lives here.”

“At the Moonstone Palace, right. Azriel told me.”

“I’m hoping these visits will show her...show her I’m not the monster she thinks I am,” he rasped, voice thick with more tears. He closed in on himself, crumbling in front of her.

Before she could stop herself, she pressed him against her chest, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. His arms wrapped around her waist, hands resting on her upper back.

“I can talk to her, if you’d like,” she offered gently. Rhys looked up at her from her chest and quirked an eyebrow at her. “I’m serious! I spent my formative years in the Spring Court and I know how manipulative Tamlin can be. Maybe I can talk some sense into her.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. My ex-fiance being my wing-woman might make me seem desperate.”

“And you’re certainly not that,” Niamh teased, tugging at the hair on the back of his head. He growled at her.

“Careful, Niamh,” his tone was low again, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

She kept her rough grip on his hair and lowered herself to look him directly in the eye, leaving mere breaths between their mouths.

“You and I both know that I can finish spectacularly,” he growled again and lunged at her but she held him in place by his hair, continuing, “But I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to jump back into bed together yet.”

She released his head and backed away again, resting her hip against her kitchen counter out of reach of him.

Rhys dropped his head in dejection, then ran a hand through his hair. He nodded at her, accepting her decision but sending her a gently questioning look, as if he was worried he had done something wrong.

“I’m not ready. This is the first we’ve spoken since you got back, and things are…complicated. I would prefer if we postponed our, uh, pelvic reunion until things are more settled.”

“Of course, Sweetrose. We can wait for the pelvic reunion,” he teased, rising from his chair and pressing a kiss to her hairline while he ran his hands down her arms. “Now why don’t you give me the official tour of your house?”

“Not much to see but if you insist,” she said, taking his hand and relishing at the feeling of his fingers entwined with hers. At that moment she finally felt that Rhys was back.

He’d come home, at last.

Part 5

#acomaf fic #acomaf #acotar fic #acotar #rhysand x oc #rhysand angst #rhys x oc #rhys angst #rhysand fic #rhys fic #angst angst baby #comfort fic #azriel shadowsinger #spring court princess #plant powers #night court fic #velaris #soft!rhys #soft rhysand

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elegistnox · 1 year

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Hi Han! You seem tired of Aries questions lol so coming here to ask a random one! How many people do you think Rhys has had sex with by the time of ACOTAR? Hit me with an estimate over his 550 years and throw in some names from HoN if you have any! Let's stir up some drams!

Plz say Helion.

this actually made me snort reading it, never tired of the questions! however i do love this question...

ok hear me out hear me out

i dont think rhys has had sex with that many people. sure he was crazy when he was younger but let's be real he slowed down after the war soooooooo

i'm going to say

more than 40 but less than 50. somewhere around 16 or 18 people after the war and the first 30 are before the war when he's young and horny...because i love an even number

to be fair that is not a lot for being 550 years old which is like 1 partner every 13.5 years

math

my reasoning is that i think he's a secret relationship guy. he stays with his partners for a significant enough portion of time where like azriel might be knee deep in a few girlies at a time (horrible reference)

as for who...i don't want to ruin some stuff but i'll throw a juicy bit in bc i like this ask...lilah (obvi), suniva (juicy juicy), cressida (cmon there was too much tension), amarantha (sad)

ok here's my thing about helion. i just truly think rhys's worst quality is that he's too straight

cassian however...cassian would hit

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moonfawnx · 2 years

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so.... a rhys x reader fic is coming soon and it's the first time I'm writing about him so I hope it's good

#acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand acotar #rhys fic #rhysand fic #rhysand x reader angst #rhysand fluff

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thehighladywrites · 2 months

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ACOTAR MEN X READER, BANNING THEM FROM INTIMACY

☀︎ — summary: you let them know they’re not allowed to touch you in any way, shape or form. How do they react!

☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, az being a slut as per usual, cassian being yummy, touchy needy fae males, slight dumbification in lucien’s

☀︎ — amara’s note: lucien was my fav one to write omgggg, also i hope u sluts enjoy😈😈😈😈 also enjoy while i work with tutor az👀👀

RHYSAND

“You’re putting me on a ban? You can’t be serious.”

“Nuh-uh Rhys, you flirted with that girl so have fun by yourself for the unforseeable future.”

Rhysand didn’t actually flirt with anyone, he was being his usual self and the way the girl was leaning towards him made you angry so you just blamed him instead

He gets through the first few days calmly although he is mildy irritated. Especially when Cassian and Azriel tease him about it.

“So no sexy time for you Rhysie, that must suck,” Cassian says as he ties his hair back.

“Well, not really much sucking these days, right?” Azriel snickers, getting ready for the inevitable fight

Rhysand takes out his frustration on them for their smart little comments.

Rhysand has quite a high libido so that man usually fucks you good atleast once a day even when you’re both busy.

“Darling, please forgive me. I will never do it again. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.”

He begs and begs because he’s going a bit crazy

In the end, it takes him only three days for you to forgive him and lift the ban. The man is charming and seduces you into dropping the ban

The second you drop the ban, he grabs your waist, throws you over his shoulder and winnows to the cabin where he fucks you for a week straight.

“That oughta put that nasty idea out of your head forever” he says, patting your head while smiling at your ruined self. Mascara running, laboured breathing, and a pounding heart is your only answer

Yeah this man wrecks you and you never pull this stunt again…

YUMMM MHE IS SO DELICIOUS 👹👹👹👹

ERIS

“You may not touch me or have sex with me in any way until I say you can.”

He narrows his eyes as he slightly smiles when you announce a ban on all intimate activities for the unforseeable future.

“Is that so?”

You cross your arm on your chest, lifting your chin in defiance.

“Yes, that’s right. Since you want to entertain Nesta Archeron, you may not be in my vicinity.”

You are being waaaaaay too dramatic. He didn’t even spare her a single glance until you pointed to her. Nothing at all happened, I mean the male didn’t even know she was at the ball until you told him.

Nesta walked up and was a bit too close to him and even though Eris moved to your side, giving her an unamused look, you were still irritated

And since you couldn’t take it out on her, you take it out on Eris.

But Eris knows what you’re doing, he knows how extremely dramatic you are being, so he just lets you cool off, let’s you huff and puff around the house

You are a mess. An absolute mess

You find yourself longing for Eris's touch, even just a simple headpat from him would send you into cardiac arrest.

The fact that you lasted an entire week is insane bc you’re both touching each other in some way all the time

When you’re lounging; his head rests on your chest, and you lovingly massage his scalp, running your fingers through his hair. Alternatively, he pulls you closer to his body under a warm blanket, nestled in his neck, while he warms his hands for you, acting as your personal heater.

When you’re in public; he always has a hand on your lower back, waist or you walk hand in hand. You also wrap your hands around his biceps, caressing the arm when you feel tired

When you’re in a meeting; your hands naturally seek each other under the table. Whenever one of you gets heated or irritated, the other soothes them by rubbing their thumb on the back of their hand, offering quiet support.

After a week of torture you finally breakdown in his office, storming in and placing your palms on his wooden desk. He looks up at your curiously, an eyebrow raised.

“Okay, I can’t do this anymore, please touch me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Eris is just as desperate as you are but he wants to drag this out just a tiny bit more before giving in

“Interesting. You initiated this ban, yet you’re the one who can’t follow through? You were fine without me for a whole week, I think you’ll manage another one.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief. Another week? No, you’d rather die.

“I think not. I will beg if I have to. Touch me, please. I will probably die if I go another week without you.”

He leans back in his chair, puts his arms behind his head as his arms bulge. One of your biggest weaknesses

“Normally, I’d make you beg but I missed you aswell. Come here.”

You damn near cry in relief when you sit in his lap and nestle in his arms. His warm hands rub your back and thighs, making you impossibly more relaxed

“This was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Never again.” You whine against his neck, kissing it over and over again.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, emotional as he press a kiss to your head

AZRIEL

“Okay.”

That is all he says when you tell him your banning him from touching you. Honestly, you thought he’d have a bigger reaction so you start getting second thoughts.

But you thug it out bc you still want to prove a point even though he looks super unbothered

In reality, Azriel is panicking on the inside

Although he knows he can physically withstand sex, it’s the love and intimacy he misses the most

So he does the one thing he knows you won’t resist

He sluts around the house

Okay, he walks around shirtless or with super tight black shirts thst highlight years and years of working out

Azriel knows you’re weak for his muscles and body so flaunting it around is step one of his plan.

Step two of his plan draws him extremely close to you, mere inches away. He leans in as you speak, exploiting yet another weakness.

He wears delicious colognes that make your eyes flutter. He wears chains around his neck and leans over you.

Azriel’s final and ultimate slut move is waking up in the morning, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks. It's all it takes for you to cave in to his charms.

You find yourself the one begging for his touch, unable to resist the longing for his embrace. You babble about never wanting to go so long without feeling his presence again.

CASSIAN

Cassian’s love language is most definitely touch so when you tell him that he is banned from here on out, he freezes.

Like it doesn’t make any sense, he actually can’t grasp the concept.

“What does that even mean? What do you mean I can’t touch you?”

Tha man is flabbergasted

He will follow you around, apologizing for his behavior over and over. You’ve already forgiven him since it was a minor thing but he doesn’t know that

Cassian starts carrying a pillow with him, imagining it is you. He craves touch, and if it's from a damn pillow, he'll gladly take it

He pouts as you try to surpress a smile at his expression. He’ll give you puppy eyes in hopes of you dropping the annoying ban

Eventually, Cassian levels up and becomes extra touchy with the inner circle instead, seeking any physical touch

A confused Azriel gets extra pats on the shoulder, but Cassian's hand lingers, staying put longer than usual, leaving Azriel puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior.

An amused Rhysand receives more hugs, but Cassian's hugs linger, holding him close as if imagining you there for a moment.

Obviously, nothing compares to you, and the whole situation only makes Cassian more irritated.

No sex is just unbearable. Jerking off isn’t fun at all and he can count on one hand how many times he had to use his hands since you got together

After only one and a half day you start to miss his touches and get jealous that your friends is getting his warm touches instead.

You’re also very horny and since you and cassian have a VERY active sex life, it makes a lotta sense. This male usually fucks you 1-2 times everyday, and I mean EVERY day

Seriously not a day goes by without some action, whether it be fingering, bjs, handjobs, nipple play, him eating you out, 69 just anything really

When you finally, after 1,5 excruciating days let him touch you, he smiles and thank the Mother then drags you to your bedroom

Y’all don’t come out for a solid 2-3 business days

Ever since the ban, he is stuck to you like glue fr

LUCIEN

Lucien is very calm for someone who isn’t allowed to touch his mate

“You’re banning me from touching you? That’s really cute,” Lucien remarks casually, a hint of amusement in his tone as he takes a sip of his peppermint tea.

You furrow your brows, pouting. “I'm not joking, Lucien. If you touch me, I'll scream,” you assert firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. With lifted chin and proud gaze, you stand your ground, making your new and temporary boundaries clear.

Lucien chuckles softly. “Yeah? You’ll scream? Love, you scream real nice for me when I touch you anyway, so what's really new?” he teases, getting closer to you.

“I mean, do you really want me to not touch you?” Lucien asks, his voice low as he inches closer and closer until your faces are mere inches apart.

He gets so close, his warmth leaving you breathless. His soft, plump lips barely brush against yours, the touch so light it's almost not there.

“Tell me, my sweet, perfect girl,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours, “who put this idea in your head?”

You are barely functioning, your words stuck in your throat as you struggle to come up with a response.

“I know you're too out of it to properly respond to me right now, and it's okay,” Lucien says gently, his tone teasing. “I guess using your brain is a tough task, hm?”

You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by his charming smile

“M'sorry, Lucien,” you mumble, your words breathless and slightly slurred. “It was just a joke. I really want you to touch me,” you admit, your voice trailing off as you become increasingly dumbfounded in his intoxicated presence.

He tsked with mock sympathy. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, gripping your chin. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean the next time, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” you say blushing at the proximity before giving him a sweet sweet kiss on the lips. Lucien pulls you in closer and y’all fuck right there on the kitchen table but damn it was good

Yeah, banning Lucien from intimacy will never work

🏷️: @thelov3lybookworm @redbleedingrose @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @rowaelinsdaughter @artists-ally @berryzxx @aroseinvelaris @cupidojenphrodite @jeannineee @daycourtofficial

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readychilledwine · 2 months

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Pieces of You pt 2

Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected.

Warnings - panic attack, a well-deserved breakdown, negative thoughts, death of partners, sickness

A/N - 👀

Series Masterlist

You hadn't gotten used to waking up with Rhysand beside you. The High Lord had shown up the day after visiting Nyx for the first time, pulling a few bags from his pocket world, and moved in. That was 2 weeks ago

He had started in the guest room. Opting to move Nyx's bassinet in there, he slowly realized caring for Nyx was impossible without you. Nyx was not comforted by his scent the way he was yours yet. He enjoyed the warmth of Rhysand's skin, but that skin wasn't the skin that held him so close those first few critical days. Plus, and most importantly, Rhys could not feed him. The one time they tried the mixed powder substance Madja had made for them, Nyx had a look of betrayal gracing his small face before gagging. He cried until you couldn't emotionally take it anymorez glaring at his clueless father as you sat on the floor and fed him. You were too attached to the heir, and him you. He was your son, and you were the closest thing he knew to a mother.

Rhys had accidentally pulled you close to him during the short nap, arm tight around your waist, head buried in your hair. He had fallen into heavy sleep for the first time since welcoming himself in. It was so heavy that he couldn't hear the soft grunts coming from his son. You tried wiggling from his grasp, almost struggling for breath as his grip grew tighter.

It shouldn't have affected you the way it was. Being held so tightly was like having a knife stabbed into your chest over and over. It felt like ripping and tearing fine hair from your arm. Sharp, dull, aching, soothing. You finally freed yourself and had to back away to breathe, to forcely remind yourself that wasn't your husband, your mate, holding you. He'd never get to do that again. You'd never feel his arms scarred from years at sea and in port wrapped around your waist. You'd never smell the salt air and sunshine that clung to him like second skin again.

You'd never feel that tug again. That warmth spreading through you as he sent his love. Instead, you were empty. You were a shell of a female, walking on borrowed time, on borrowed life.

You had always thought you would fade if he was gone. That you would leave this world when he did, dying of a broken heart, yet here you were, living, breathing, mourning.

You shook your head, wrapping and clipping your hair before moving to Nyx and gently picking him up. You'd keep going for the babies. You would push for the babies.

Feyre told you once the Suriel had asked her to leave the world a better place, and your mate had once told you the world would have been better if everyone loved the way you did. Ensuring Nyx and Morwenna lived, ensuring they were loved, it would fulfill both of those wishes.

You could feel everything later. Lose your mind and heart when Rhys took the babies out for the day. You needed to be strong now, though. Be the anchor all three of them needed you to be.

You kissed his forehead softly, going to take him out of the room to eat when the soft scent of the sea hit you.

And you didn't know, but Rhys had pulled your pillow closer, welcoming the soft scent of pear that lingered there despite your absence.

Rhys kneeled before you, stroking your face as tears fell.

Wen was refusing to eat, sleeping heavily, and not herself. He had called for Madja, trying to calm you as you cradled her closely. He wanted to take her, to hold her the way you were. He had grown attached to his Little Mor ao quickly, welcoming her so warmly into his heart that it pained him to see you two like this. He saw Little Mor as his daughter. He loved her the same way he loved Nyx, his little ones.

Relief flooded him as Azriel walked Madja in. Old hands coming to linger over the small girl. “You need to breathe, y/n,” the healer knew the breakdown you were having was about much more than your daughter. It was a matter of time before this happened. “Rhys, will you take y/n away while I look over our sweet Morwenna?”

Azriel reached, holding eye contact with you as he took your daughter. Azriel knew a dangerous animal when he saw it. A mother panicking over the health of her baby as a male she had only recently met took said baby was dangerous, deadly even if provoked.

He knew what was happening to you as the sobs became uncontrollable. Wrecking through your body as your mind played the worst-case scenario over and over again.

The house seemed to creak and groan under the weight of your power flaring, making him grateful Cassian and Elain had taken Nyx for a walk when everyone realized Morwenna may have been sick. And making him wonder how the hell you had gone undetected for so long. He craddled Little Mor close to him, backing away before setting down for Madja to examine.

“Take her to another room, Rhysand. I cannot focus with her magic choking everything out.”

Rhys picked you up, carrying you back into your shared bedroom before setting you on the ground. “Breathe,” he whispered softly. His hands were resting on your upper arms, empathy lacing his features as he watched an all too similar moment of weakness.

“If she dies I don't know what I'll do. She's all I have left.”

“She will not die-”

“She's my everything. She's why I get up. Why I'm doing this. She's my world.”

“She will be fine-”

“I can't lose her. I can't. It'll be too much.”

Rhys watched as your mask cracked. As everything fell apart. He heard your mental shields crumbling as you were. He had this impression you had moved on quickly, that you were not as broken as he was, but he was clearly wrong.

You kept going for Little Mor.

You kept going for Nyx.

You stayed for him.

You fought the dying of that light inside you, one he had already allowed to extinguish for them. You were selflessly fighting darkness for them.

He held your face in his eyes wide and searching as the panic attack began.

He did the only thing he knew for moments like this. Something Feyre had done countless times for him when his mind took over, poisoning him and his thoughts.

Rhys crashed his lips onto yours, shocked at how well you two fit, at how you were like that last piece of stained glass being added into a tight spot due to miscalculation and poor design.

Rhys relaxed fully into the kiss, a hand going to your hair as the other stayed on your cheek.

And, as if the Fates were mocking him again, he felt a small kindling inside of him restart.

A content Rhys, the curtain gently blowing in the breeze, the texted soft grey wall behind the High lord, his black cotton shirt, your hands on his chest.

The feeling of soft lips pressed in yours, that buttery fabric as you gripped it, his muscles moving in his arms as he pulled you closer, his hands. His warm, gentle hands.

Birds chirping, soft muffled whispers from another room, your heartbeat, or maybe that was Rhysand's .

Citrus and sea salt.

Expensive whiskey.

Your eyes closed, mind completely shut off to anything but the first sign of affection you had in weeks, and you leaned into him, kissing him back until you were both breathless.

He pulled away then, watching as your eyes mixed with emotion, looking up at him in shock, in adoration.

“Feyre used to kiss me when I would begin to get lost in my thoughts they way you were,” his hands lingered in those positions, thumb stroking your cheek. “It always helped me shut my brain off.”

You nodded, still leaned into him closely, mind lost to everything but that odd feeling of warmth settling into your chest. “Can-”

“Yes,” he answered before you could even ask, and he kissed you again.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tayswhp @eve175 @azrielsmate3 @aria-chikage

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads

Pieces of You Taglist:

@dr4g0ngirl @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @blueeclipsepaperstudent @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @novalovi @rachelnicolee @sleepylunarwolf @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams @bunnyredgirl @fandomrejects @bookishbroadwaybish @littlestw01f @la-petite-lapin @juniperberriesaries @anuttellaa @luvmoo @mirandasidefics @soph1644 @hungryforbatboys @awkardnerd @bruxa0007 @eerievixen @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @ghostlyrose2 @amygdtjhddzvb @marvelouslovely-barnes

If your username is in bold, tumblr is not allowing me to tag you. Hopefully it will fix here soon, though!

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys acotar #rhys x you #rhys x y/n #rhys x reader #rhys fic #rhysand acotar #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x reader #widower!rhysxreader #rhys x widowed!reader

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rowaelinsdaughter · 2 months

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thinking about feyre and reader stealing rhys clothes.

smut below the cut, mostly f!oral receiving, squirting (i wasnt planning writing this but i couldnt contain myself)

feyre would love to steal rhys shirt's. she would leave them open while only wearing her underwear when they are at home. rhys would make sure nobody enters, its only the three of them, so feyre uses his shirts as dresses, but she loves them open. maybe sometimes she would wear a top and short bottoms, but most of the time its just only the underwear.

this makes it easier for reader and rhys to leave marks or just eat her out. she would just set aside her panties while rhys is behind her pinching her nipples and kissing her neck. all this while the breakfast is forgotten on the table at their living room.

and for reader, she would love rhys t-shirt's. long dresses that cover her body. she would look tiny in them, and both her mates would mock her about it but they ABSOLUTE love her in his t-shirts. she would woke up earlier than them, leaving them in the bed sleeping after a fun night. she opened the closet and took her favorite t-shirt. a soft lilac one, one she bought him and now his scent was all over it. like every weekend, they were alone at home, nualla and cerridwen resting on their home.

she was making breakfast when she felt a pair of hands on her waist, big hands. rhys. "good morning, sweetheart" his voice was raspy from sleep and by the buldge on his pants and how she could feel it, she knew he was only wearing some pants. she turned around, both her hands found a place on his muscular chest, drawing the ink with her fingertips. he gave her a lazy smile while his hands gripped her waist and lifted her on the kitchen island. "now youre going to be a good girl for me and youre going to let me eat my breakfast" her hands gripped his shoulders when he felt his hands under the t-shirt. a low moan falling from her parted lips. his lips were on her neck, biting and kissing, swapping the intensity, making her dizzy. "fuck doll, i love when youre wearing my clothes"

his hands lifted the t-shirt exposing her dripping cunt. no underwear, like she was expecting this to happen. "youre a little slut, wearing only my t-shirt with no underwear" he bite her bottom lip "i love it" he fell to his knees, kissing her legs all the way up to her cunt, leaving bites and when he licked her, she let a moan. he was devouring her, eating her like it was his breakfast. she was so high from the pleasure she didnt sensed feyre enter the kitchen, but feyre was behind her. her knees on either side of her body while her hands went directly to her breasts. "having fun without me?" she purred to her ear. feyre pinched her nipples through the t-shirt, a louder moan falling from her as her head fell back, resting on feyre's shoulder.

"i wanna cum, i wanna cum please" she said like a mantra. rhys stopped eating her. "you wanna cum, doll?." she nodded and added "please i wanna cum so bad, please, please" rhys caressed her legs and looked at feyre, lust and mischief shinning in his violet eyes. "what do you think feyre darling, we should let our doll cum?" he was still caressing her legs. feyre took her face with a hand, she looked her glossy eyes, her swollen lips and smiled. but she didnt gave rhys an answer, all she did was kiss her. hard and passionate. just as they always did. rhys smiled and went on to devour her.

feyre swallowed her moans and her hands gripped his hair. like an invitation to go faster, rhys started to eat her more vividly. she was at her breaking point, she felt the knot, she needed to cum badly. as rhys inserted three fingers inside her cunt while treating her clit, she felt her orgasm ripping her apart. a wave of pleasure made her back arc on feyre's chest. she didn't know she was shouting, moaning, all she know is she hadn't feel that type of frenzy ever. feyre pulled apart, a trail of spit connected their swollen lips. she was breathing fast and heavy. feyre caressed her cheek "good job doll". she looked down at rhys and saw the mess she had made. she had squirt. something she didn't knew it would happen. "fuck doll, that was hot" he murmured. rhys stood up, a finger under her chin so she could look at him. "ready for round two, doll?"

yeah, they both love to steal rhys clothes.

tags;; @amara-moonlight @throneofsapphics @thehighladywrites @vanserrasswife @loneliestluvr @vanserrasswife

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 15 days

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Thinking about Vampire!Rhys a little too much at work 🥵🥵🥵

But like????

•Vamp!Rhys that wears those slutty little male corsets, you know the ones I’m talking about don’t lie.

•thousand year old Vamp!Rhys that throws masquerade balls in his lavish mansion to attract unsuspecting humans, because why go out and hunt when fresh blood will come right to him?

•Vamp!Rhys that pulls you into his lap so you can straddle his waist while he sinks his fangs into your neck, because his little human pet should get some pleasure out of this too

•Vamp!Rhys who intentionally leaves bite marks above your shirt collar so all the other vampires in the area know you’re his and there will be hell to pay if they even think about trying to feed on you

Hold up I got more ideas, I gotta go write a fic brb

#vampire!rhys #vamp!rhys #rhys acotar #Rhys fic #rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader smut #ACOTAR smut #fic ideas #I’m having feelings

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theostrophywife · 2 years

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finally finished the rhys/cas/az fucking around in the same room fic and wanted to do something fun before it goes up next week. instead of my usual post preview, i'll reveal a line said by each bat boy.

leave the following in my ask for a sneak peek:

💜 for rhys

💙 for azriel

❤️ for cassian

#yall aren't ready for what i'm about to unleash #it's 8k of just pure filth and i'm honestly scared for myself and everyone else #acotar smut #azriel smut #rhys smut #cassian smut #azriel fic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel #rhys fic #rhysand smut #rhys x you #rhys x reader #cassian fic #cassian x reader #cassian x you

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divinemare · 7 months

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Legend of a Mortal Love

┊ ➶ rhys x oc

┊ ➶ part six

part five

When Ariadne mentioned Rhysand’s Solstice gift to Mor and Rhi, both females went crazy over who got to pick a dress for her.

“She doesn’t need something so exuberant,” fought Rhiannon against Morrigan’s suggestion.

“And she needs something more bright, that color is going to make her look more pale!” Now it was Morrigan’s turn to fight against her cousin’s choice of dress.

Ariadne sighed looking at both females and the dresses they held in each other’s faces. Mor had a red, gorgeous dress that had a beautiful exposed back. It was stunning, but something Ariadne could never in her life wear. She was way too thin for the back to look nice in her, even tho she had gained some small weight being here in Velaris with everything Rhiannon and Morrigan made her eat.

Rhiannon, on the other hand, had a beautiful long grayish dress that would be perfectly simply if it weren't for the cape that fell down the back that seemed to be made out of a millions tiny stars. Ariadne feared she would fall down for only the expensive weight that dress seemed to have.

“Uhm, you guys…?” Ariadne tried to speak up, but the females were now both giving their arguments as to why their dress would suit her better. “Mor? Rhi?”

When neither of them listed, she stood up with a sigh and walked towards the pile of dresses the females had left scattered in their search for what they deemed the perfect choice.

Ariadne had seen one earlier that had caught all her attention, and once she found it again, she smiled and pulled it out.

“What about this one?” She asked, showing the dress to the other two females and finally gaining their attention.

It wasn’t half as exuberant as Mor’s option, neither half as elegant as Rhiannon’s. Both females looked at each other with sweet smiles, gone were the frowns, and lowered their dresses.

“Do you like it?” Rhiannon asked, her voice toned with honey.

“I don’t know, I think it’s pretty, isn’t it?” Ariadne asked with a little nervous tone, and both females threw their dresses away without another glance.

“If you like it, then it is,” Morrigan said with an excited smile. “Come, we’ll help you get ready!”

They didn’t wait for her response as they grabbed her by the wrists and dragged her over.

༺ ♡ ༻

“I cannot believe how talented I am,” Morrigan beamed, receiving an elbow in the ribs from Rhiannon. “Ouch! Sorry, yeah, we are.”

Ariadne was out of words looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was in a beautiful braid with a pin in a shape of silver wings holding it together, Mor had put a little bit of makeup in her face, some khol on her eyes, tint on her cheeks and lips, and the dress…she let out a long breath when she saw it on the mirror.

Of a beautiful midnight blue, the long dress hugged her shoulders, with bubble sleeves that ended in silver cuffs on the wrists. It hugged her waist but fell to the floor at the hips, making an illusion of a shape she did not have. A transparent fabric surrounded the dress of the same color as it like a beautiful curtain of stars with the tiny sparkles in it.

It was simple, at least way more simple than anything the other two females had chosen, but Ariadne’s heart beat a little too fast at the sight of it, the air getting caught up in her throat with an enamored sigh.

“Isn’t it…too much?” Still she asked in a breathless sigh.

She had never looked this way, neither ever felt as beautiful as she did now. Because she did feel beautiful, and it was the strangest feeling ever.

“Don’t be silly! You look like a dream, and that’s all that matters,” Mor cheered, hugging her shoulders with excitement.

“You’re all set, let’s go make my brother’s life a little less immortal with your gorgeous sight.”

Her cheeks flared up, luckily the tint in them managed to hide it, and Ariadne rolled her eyes without being able to hide a smile.

Rhysand was waiting with Cassian and Azriel downstairs, the biggest Illyrian was teasing the soon-to-be-High-Lord about something, and Rhysand was looking like he was about to kick his friend back to the Illyrian Mountains.

Morrigan bursted into a laugh, and Rhiannon giggled while holding Ariadne’s arm. With their Fae ears, they surely had heard whatever Cassian had said, with her mortal ears, tho, she couldn’t hear anything but their loud laughs.

“It was about time! You ladies took ages,” Cassian got up from the couch he had been sitting on when he heard them coming down the stairs.

Azriel followed suit, then Rhysand.

“Well, not as much as Rhys, I reckon he took at least 4 hours to get ready,” Azriel spoke in his husky low, but slightly mocking voice.

Cassian again bursted a laugh, patting his brother’s shoulder in approval, while Rhys looked at both of them with knifes in his eyes before finally turning to look at Ariadne.

Right there, when he looked at her, Ariadne felt like he was doing it for the first time again. The way his eyes trailed down her body, taking in every little detail of her dress. Then going back up, settling on her face and his eyes looking at her like he was staring at the stars. Ariadne’s breath hitched at the intensity of his violet gaze, not in the way she had done before, instead holding his stare as if she could actually hold her grown in front of him.

This dress, this look, it was certainly altering some kind of alter ego in her.

“You look ravishing, Ariadne. My sister and cousin certainly do have an exquisite taste,” when Rhysand finally talked, his lips curled upwards to the side in a devilishly handsome grin.

“We didn’t picked the dress,” Mor said with a smile, looking at Ariadne with a certain excitement.

“She does have an exquisite taste, that is,” Rhiannon complimented, winking at her.

“Yes, she does,” when Rhysand’s eyes settled again on hers, Ariadne was not able to, this time, hold his intense gaze for too long. “Well, we must hurry now, we don’t want to be late.”

Rhysand offered a hand that Ariadne only took to get down from the last steps of the staircase before dropping it again, and they both left the townhouse with the whispers and giggles of the rest of the group behind them.

༺ ♡ ༻

When they got to the theatre, Ariadne’s hands were sweating with excitement, so many people lined up in the entrance, broad smiles and tickets in hand, with the most beautiful dresses and suits. Inside, the theatre was even more impressive than outside. The chandeliers that hung on the ceiling, fae lights illuminating in variety of shapes that looked like stars. The paintings on the walls portraying different plays and stories, it all seemed out of a dream, one of those she had constantly back at the Court of Nightmares.

“This is…” she didn’t had the words to explain it.

Rhysand turned to look at her, a small smile involuntarily appearing when he saw her eyes sparkle with wonder while looking all around her.

“Impressive, right?” When Ariadne looked at him, his breath got caught up in his throat, she had never looked at him like that before, without judgement, without the small hints of anger that she sometimes didn’t realize she had when looking at him.

He understood her pain, her rage, her irritation towards him, but now, her eyes show a sparkle of life he hadn’t seen in them before, the twinkles of curiosity she so often hid where now exploding without restriction, and it caused his heart to feel a little too tight in his chest.

They walked up the stairs, Ariadne couldn’t stop smiling despite herself, oblivious of the constant look of Rhysand on her.

When they got to their seats, the show was only about to start, the lights went off, and Ariadne’s heart raced with expectation and excitement. A minute later, the stage was illuminated again, and the curtains opened to let it all begin.

༺ ♡ ༻

Ariadne had cried after the show was over.

Rhysand hadn’t noticed until he heard her breathe out through the tears.

He worried at first, but then realized, when she looked at him through her teary eyes, that they weren’t tears of sadness or anger, but of pure joy and bliss.

Claps were still sounding all around them, Ariadne clapped with admiration to the performers standing in the stage bowing to the public.

He couldn’t help it, did not realize what he was doing until Ariadne went completely still. His hand had raised to clean the tears running down her cheeks, his thumb brushing her skin in a contact that felt way too intimate.

“You liked it,” he whispered with a pleased smile, and Ariadne smiled warmly, again, like she had never done with him.

“I loved it.”

The way her shoulders were so relaxed and her eyes sparkled with a life that hadn’t been there before made him wonder if he would ever see that look on her again, if she would ever look like this not only momentarily, but permanently, he wished he could say the answer could be yes, but a dreadful feeling inside of him reminded him that their system, that his Court, his world, wouldn’t allow Ariadne to keep that feeling forever, and somewhere inside him, the shame and guilt about it twisted his gut.

His smile faltered for a second, but it came back again when she unconsciously grabbed his arm to steady her excitement, looking at him as the curtains closed again.

“Let’s go,” Rhys grabbed her arm, guiding her towards the exit.

“Where?”

“To make the stars jealous of your smile.”

༺ ♡ ༻

The next day, Ariadne stared at the notebook Cassian had given her with thoughtful eyes, overthinking her next decision.

She had been thinking about this all night after the show, she just wasn’t sure yet how good of an idea it was.

“You seem troubled,” a grave voice spoke behind her, making Ariadne give a little jump. “Sorry, didn’t meant to scare you,” Cassian laughed, and she just smiled shyly.

“It’s ok.”

“What has you so thoughtful, little bird?”

The big Illyrian male had started calling her like that since he caught her humming to herself, and Ariadne had started to grow fond of the nickname.

“About this,” she raised the book in her hands while the male sat beside her, his weight making the sofa sink in a little, his wings tucked behind the armchair.

Ariadne sighed, thinking, analyzing, weighting her possibilities. They were leaving today, in a couple of hours more. This was the last chance she had to make something, to have something worthy.

“Would you help me with something?” She looked at the male with both hope and fear, and he smiled sideways in a mischievous way.

“Sing the word, little bird.”

And so she gave Cassian her notebook full of her songs, leaving it all up to him. He had promised that, once he took it to Rita, she would soon become the most famous songwriter in all Velaris.

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