@feydarling : Fix. Not Looking Like That Disapproving, You Fix The Sender's Appearance.

@feydarling : fix. not looking like that — disapproving, you fix the sender's appearance.

he adjusts his cuffs in the mirror, catching a glimpse of feyre's reflection behind him. it earns a smile, her hair haphazardly braided with loose strands peaking throughout. a reminder that even now, underneath being high lady, the hunter from his dreams — the one who managed to defeat that wyrm, reckless & wild, still remains. rhysand turns to approach her, fingers running over golden brown locks, tongue clicking. " struggling without nuala and cerridwen, aren't we? what am i to do with you, hm? " he nods towards the chair in front of her vanity, guiding her to sit as he undoes the pins in place. " it's fixable. though, i doubt anyone will be focusing on your hair ... " a hand strays down to her exposed collarbone, fingers tracing swirls onto flesh before retreating back to the task at hand, leaning over to press a kiss to replace his touch. " such a high lady. "

rhysand steps out from the shadows, the wicked mask of viper slipping to reveal something more vulnerable, more tired. the prince of darkness, cruel & cunning, stripped down to just this: a prisoner, finding solace only in these moments. feyre's cell was the only place he could let this facade slip, even for just a moment. even if she looked at him with such hatred, sees him only as the monster he's become so good at playing, it was a welcomed break from the torment of their captor ... the insults hurled at him from the others trapped, plaguing his every thought. her whore. that is all he will be in this story, all he will be remembered for — but the sacrifice, his family's safety, velaris still untouched. it's worth it.

" isn't that sweet? " the loneliness flashing in his eyes comes & dies out just as quick, hand running through his hair as he leans against her cell wall. to love someone so much, that you would willingly put yourself through this torment. if only she knew they weren't so different. " i have no question of your heart. " she's proved herself enough. but he puts himself in tamlin's position more often than he'd care to admit, what it'd be like to feel such love ... how he wouldn't be able to just sit there & watch, without a single word. not lifting a single finger to put an end to this. he would never be in his position to begin with. he put himself here to avoid his family going through what she is.

he waves off the criticism of the high lord that dares to slip past his tongue — whatever hope she has in him has to stay intact for her next trial, he's said enough. " your human heart is what's keeping you alive. " even if tamlin is undeserving of it.

@rhysie said: “You really do love him, don’t you?”

“ of course, ” it’s stated simple and clear, presented as the obvious fact that it was. there was nothing in the world in which i was more certain. i only wished i had realized it sooner. i should have told tamlin well before he sent me back home. if i could have gone back in time i would have screamed it from the rooftop, begged him to let me stay and help him break the curse. together we could have saved his court and neither of us would be trapped down here. it was my pride and arrogance that had secured our fate — my reluctance to admit the truth getting the best of me until it was too late. the intensity of our love was now all i had left to hold on to — to remind myself why i was here and what i was fighting for. i held onto it desperately, a single lifeline. “ i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t. ”

“ why does that surprise you? you can’t really believe the lies she spews about human hearts. ” i studied rhysand’s features — my brow knitting as i contemplated the veracity of his question. his tone lacked the typical flippancy that defined his usual regard, instead replaced with a fervor i couldn’t quite place. could it be jealousy? no. it felt deeper than that — something dangerously close to bitter loneliness even. and for once, against my better judgment, i almost felt sorry for him, knowing he was as much of a prisoner as i was. cursed to a fate even crueler than mine. amarantha’s whore. no one had ever come to save him. even if i died in this desolate hell, at least i knew that for a moment i had been loved.

for the first time in years, rhysand allows himself to relax. eyes flutter shut, soaking up every second of bliss that only seems to come in her presence. he can picture spending every night for the rest of his days with her like this, the image so colorfully displayed out for him behind his eyelids: feyre in his arms, as she tells him about her day. the kisses they would share — how easy sleep would find him. his imagination drifts to these thoughts most nights, only to wake up disappointed by cruel reality, his bedside cold.

her confession brings hope that maybe those dreams weren't so far off, after all. he doesn't remember the last time he has felt so seen beyond the image he had crafted of himself, or if he ever even has at all. rhysand swallows past the growing lump in his throat, eyes opening to meet the one's he'd felt on him, before pivoting to linger on her lips. wrapped up in her scent, with all of the courage she has given him, it would be too easy to kiss her right now. but the thought is pushed away almost as soon as it even begins. she's healing, maybe even still loves tamlin ... it's the last thing she needs right now. instead, he only shrugs, flashing a smirk as he meets feyre's gaze. " i tried to tell you, i am quite delightful. "

it was the safest i had felt in months — curled up in his arms, surrounded by a starry night that coaxed me towards a peaceful slumber. no one could hurt me here, no one could break past his power. he was here — i wasn’t alone anymore. as he whispered softly against my hair, my heart sputtered eagerly — goosebumps raising on my arms, as his fingers brushed against my flesh in soothing strides. my breathing quieted and evened out, chest raising softly as he comforted me, bringing me back down to earth. i continued to clutch his hand, forbidding both him and myself from daring to let go. for a quiet moment, we were the only two people left in the world and i wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

this was by far my favorite side i had seen of him. his touch was so tender and his voice so raw, so unlike the lord of darkness he had presented himself as. i couldn’t help but wonder how many others had been fortunate enough to truly know him in the quiet light as i did. i both pitied those that never would and delighted in knowing that this moment was entirely mine. a part of me never wanted it to end, almost afraid that once i woke up again, i’d realize none of it had been real. my eyes fluttered open at the thought, head tilting up to admire him — how he was even more beautiful in the dark of night. the way the shadows accentuated his sharp features and the stars reflected in his eyes, his mask slipping as he let me in. “ thank you for getting me out of there, ” i whispered, no longer meaning just amarantha’s underground prison. “ you knew i needed help before i did. i was wrong about you. ”

" talk, without wanting something? hm. perhaps you have changed in my absence. " rhysand chuckles, distracting himself with the sleeve of his jacket. family dinners had become daunting, somehow overwhelming since his return. the idea of getting home to velaris, to them ... it's what kept him going, all of those years. & yet, every moment he spends with them feels fleeting, now. as if he's expecting to lose them again. " you know as well as i do, they've already started without us. " a beat, before a bottle of amber, along with two glasses, appears onto the coffee table. he flashes an innocent smile, head tilting. " i suggest we at least try to catch up with them, before we grace them with our presence. "

he's relaxing a bit already, and mor finds herself softening her smile in return. she doesn't need to be anyone other than who she is around rhysand, just as he doesn't need to be anyone he isn't around her; it's been this way for as long as she can remember. ❝ you think that's the only reason i'm here? maybe i just want to talk you, rhys. ❞ though rita's is definitely one reason she's come to visit, but best not to admit that just yet. ❝ why don't we start with dinner? you look like you haven't been eating much lately, and i can't recall the last time i saw you eat with my own eyes. ❞ mor pauses, but only for a few seconds before going on. ❝ cass and az are both already in the dining room. they're just waiting for us to join them. ❞ dinner as a family is something they've only shared a few times since rhys had come back from under the mountain, and it's something mor craves now given how long they'd been apart.

PROMPTS FOR ORDINARY THINGS THAT FEEL INTIMATE *  inspired by this post. these don't have to be romantic - you can specify romantic or not when you send them. in essence, these are simply intimate, affectionate moments to share with someone you love and care about. adjust as necessary, send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt

[ lean ] sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder

[ shop ] sender and receiver go to the grocery store together

[ brush ] sender brushes receiver's hair

[ tie ] sender helps receiver with their tie, either by putting it on or adjusting it

[ necklace ] sender helps receiver with the clasp of their necklace from behind

[ zip up ] sender assists receiver with zipping up a piece of clothing

[ unzip ] sender assists receiver with unzipping a piece of clothing

[ shoelaces ] sender bends down to tie receiver's shoelaces

[ swipe ] sender notices a smudge of something on receiver's face and gently wipes it off

[ braid ] sender braids receiver's hair

[ jacket ] sender takes their jacket off and hangs it on receiver's shoulders

[ puddle ] sender hurries to stop receiver from stepping into a puddle

[ drinks ] sender brings receiver a drink from a bar/their kitchen

[ feed ] sender feeds receiver's pet/s for them

[ cook ] sender and receiver cook a meal together

[ feed ] sender allows receiver to try a bite of their dish, holding their fork out for receiver to taste

[ teach ] sender, an expert at something, takes time to teach receiver how it works and how they can get better at it, too

[ readjust ] sender comes up behind receiver and readjusts their stance (maybe holding a gun, holding a golf club, aiming for something, etc.) to help them

[ makeup ] sender fixes receiver's makeup for them

[ bathroom ] sender and receiver go to a public restroom together and have a normal conversation in between the stalls

[ aloud ] sender reads aloud to receiver

[ refill ] sender refills receiver's glass without asking

[ massage ] sender notices receiver looks tense, steps up behind them, and massages their shoulders

[ listen ] sender listens to receiver explain something they're passionate about

[ silence ] sender and receiver comfortably exist in silence together, both of them working or reading or focusing on something different

[ food ] sender brings food over to receiver's house

[ hum ] sender hums along to a song receiver is singing

[ see ] sender sees something that reminds them of receiver and texts them a picture of it

[ admire ] sender stares at receiver across a room, silently admiring and appreciating them from afar

[ win ] sender lets receiver beat them in a game

[ puzzle ] sender helps receiver solve/put together a puzzle

[ carry ] after receiver falls asleep in an inconvenient place, sender carries them to a bed and tucks them in

[ kneel ] sender finds receiver sick in the bathroom ("tossing their cookies"), and kneels beside them, holding their hair back and cleaning their face

[ clean ] sender helps bathe receiver

[ wash ] sender helps receiver wash their hair

[ patch ] sender carefully patches one of receiver's wounds

@volchtsa : ‘ sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, you just looked sad. ’ — amren

sad seems to be an understatement, with the high lord being multiple drinks in — alone, surrounded by a mist of shadows, eyes burning a hole into the paperwork that was neglected hours ago. it's become a nightly routine since returning from under the mountain, wrapping up his days of hunting rogue illyrian war bands with anything to take the edge off. they were gruesome confrontations over the fifty years they'd decided to push boundaries, that ended with blood being spilled more often than not. a waste of life, especially when they'd need as many bodies as they could round up for the festering war. what he'd thought would be a decent enough distraction from the upcoming wedding, ended up only adding onto his stress.

her words pull him from his thoughts, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. after so many years, isolating himself to deal with his problems on his own had become second nature — but in moments like this, he is reminded of what it is to have a friend again. his family. he straightens, waving a hand. " no need to apologize. don't tell me you've gone soft in my absence. " a glass appears before them, a gift from the house for amren, filled with blood. " i was just lost in thought, i suppose. "