( Arc: The Lord Of Night. - Tumblr Posts

" is every word you say a lie? " — @musikensangel

pointed ears perk at the question, a serpentine smile taking over his lips as he ponders it, accompanied by a soft hum. there's amusement that comes from a human asking such things, considering the popular fable that fae are incapable of lying — a rumor that spread rampantly around for years, each mortal echoing it blissfully unaware that it probably originated from a faerie's mouth to begin with.

rhysand could use that lie to his advantage now, cement his warning that this side of the wall is not safe for someone like her. if it comes to that, perhaps he will. if that still doesn't make her see that he's serious about the dangers that lurk in prythian, clawing into her mind & forcing her to turn around will be a last resort ...

" ah, i'm not sure you want to take the chance in figuring that out. " he purrs, stalking around the human as if she were prey. he doesn't make it known that she's ran into one of the only fae that would offer her safety, ink black tendrils of smoke misting around them make him appear as just the opposite. if someone — or something — were to scare her back to the other side of the wall, he'd prefer it to be himself. " seeing as though you clearly have no business being here, i would kill that curiosity of yours quickly. unless, of course, you have a death wish. "

' the next time i offer you my hand, you'll get more than a dance from me.   ' — @feydarling

faelights bounce off of polished ebony & onyx, the only light in the otherwise dark throne room — cavernous walls nearly swallowing it whole. the music has just begun, the command to dance already given, the citizens of hewn city all falling into place. here, he takes on a form of a different beast entirely: a creature of darkness, every movement the grace of a predator. once upon a time, it was easier for him to wear such a mask, slipping into it with such ease that it'd leave him questioning everything about himself afterwards. but her presence makes that blurred line much more clear, a reminder that there is still good in him.

the bodies surrounding them part, making way for the two, as rhysand takes feyre's hand in one, the other finding her waist. as he pulls her close, he can't help but to smirk at the taunt whispered into his ear — as if she knows when he's lost in his thoughts, & exactly how to pull him out of it. the eyes that are so carefully watching their every step quickly fade into the shadows, his heart rate rising with the warmth of her body pressed to his. " oh? " an eyebrow raises, desire flickering in his gaze, fingers dancing along flesh as they sway. " is that a promise? "

they fall into the routine with such ease, bantering siblings taking shots at each other, sharing laughter, a sense of normalcy falling over them — for once. when the illyrian soldiers had found her, untrusting & warning rhysand to use caution, it only took him seeing her with his own eyes. he had zero doubts of his sister, only peaking into her brain as an extra precaution, to see what she had seen during all of this time. what he saw ... he did not expect things to come so easy to them, so soon. he doesn't take this lightly, grateful for every jest, any smile he can put onto her face.

" just checking in. i would hate for you to empty your dinner all over me. though, something tells me you'd enjoy it. " wings fold around them, taking her retort as a challenge, hands finding her sides to hold onto tightly. & without warning, they are whipping up into the sky, gliding against the sea breeze. he remembers how desperate he was to get back into the sky again, the thrill of gliding amongst the stars at such a speed was intoxicating ... like he'd become whole again. even if she was without her wings now, he hoped this at least came close to that feeling.

" hold on tight. " a little too late of a warning, as he swoops down past the city, the faelights slowly fading away behind them. they are engulfed in the stars, burning so bright it seems as if you could reach out & touch them. he takes a glance down at asteria, studying her expression to the best of his ability, voice kept light — lacking the playfulness of before. " is it everything you expected? "

years upon years apart. her , wondering if she would ever catch sight of him again , sitting in the hidden confines of hybern whilst he mourned her death. time had past , aging both of them far beyond what they were during their final embrace. and yet , in this moment as they stood eloped by the night stars , when asteria peered upon him taking in his laugh in regards to her snide comment , for a moment she saw the rhysand that made her eyes roll. the one that seemed to find joy in riling her up whilst putting her on his shoulders as to see the world from above. in this moment , the decades before did not exist. did not happen. not even with the reminders plaguing both of their bodies and souls. would this feeling last ? asteria remained unsure. but by the gods above would she revel in it as it lingered ; fighting like hells to keep it for as long as she could.

❛   cold feet ?   ❜ a playful gasp expels at his comment. he questioned of she , the sibling who begged her brother to teach her to fight even after their father forbade it , the sister who was sooner ready to jump off the roof and hope her wings would catch her had he not agreed to flying lessons . . . the sister who survived hybern . . . had cold feet ? ❛   well that's just next to insulting , big brother.   ❜ linking her arm with his , excitement radiating through each vein and pore on her body , her grin never faltered. if anything it grew. exponentially so when he referenced her flying lessons.

❛   well of course it was – it would be hard for anyone to learn to fly when you don't let them leap from anything higher than a three story window.   ❜ peering once again out to the sky before her , the glimmers of velaris mimicking the sky as the shops and homes lit up to fight the night , memories once thought lost slowly began to return. ❛   so , are you going to take me flying again , or are you the one to have cold feet ?   ❜

" you won't like what you'll see. " — @2wanlake

her warning does nothing to deter him — the promise of dawn approaching echoing throughout the forest. birds sing, beasts stirring in nearby burrows, a more dangerous threat in itself. those that lurk in these woods, with their gaping maws, turn humans into ribbons with a single strike. if she stays: it won't be long before they're circling around her, sinking their claws into flesh & carelessly spilling blood. he only gives her a simple shrug, adjusting his sleeves, lacking any sort of urgency. " i also won't particularly like to see you ripped to shreds out here. " a click of his tongue, head tilting to observe the stranger. his eyes sparkle with intrigue, curious as to what exactly she's so afraid of, if not that. " but, if you wish to experience the creatures that lurk in this forest ... by all means. "

" please, rhys is just fine ... and you are? " stars flicker brightly in his eye, dancing across violet gaze with sheer wonder. she isn't of them, rhysand sensed it as soon as he took notice of her. she radiates an essence that rivals amren's: something ancient, unknown. it doesn't create fear — only intrigue. " it doesn't seem as though you are from here. or this realm, for that matter. " head tilts, his lips parting as he studies her. until she poses herself as a threat, the urge to go exploring through her mind goes ignored, however tempting. rhysand shrugs, " i don't suppose you plan on staying long. "

@rhysie : ‘ i’m inclined to think we’ve never met before, and perhaps will never meet again after tonight. ’ persephone OR whoever you feel like writing!

“ Oh we never met before, my lord. ” Her tone is calm and relaxed ; showing respect to the high lord of the night court. Persephone may be a goddess but she is not an arrogant deity like the Olympians. She knows how to mix very well with the realms that she likes to visit from time to time ( adaptation is one of her natures ) and therefore, the divine essence that she emanates often goes unnoticed. But can Rhysand feel that Persephone is different ? She'd heard stories about him, of course. The high lord who is respected and revered by many — and feared by many others. “ And what makes you wonder that ? ” She said, but perhaps it's a dangerous question to ask.

@loath3d / for morrigan.

" go terrorize someone else. " he feigns annoyance, though his tone is light — a smirk threatening his lips, despite his best attempt to keep it at bay. " i'm busy. and, seeing as though you are my third in command ... it is a little concerning that you seem to have so much free time. hm. perhaps i should tack on extra work. "

rhysand glances to the wound that already seems to be repairing itself, an unnerving sense of causality for someone that had just been attacked, as he waves it off. " the concern is appreciated. " a shrug, lips pulling into a crooked smirk. " however, i give this ... oh, an hour before it turns into nothing more than scar tissue. " he dusts off his tunic, before his head tilts to inspect the other. " the way you handled yourself was impressive — for a human, that is. "

"There's no way I'm leaving you like this." @rhysie

@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. "

" i fear you aren't capable of such a thing. " for he sees her as the moon, without any flaws — glowing in the darkness, grounding, healing. it reflects in his star flecked gaze, every touch filled with devotion. their plans quickly get forgotten, consumed by her demand. he takes the opportunity to pepper slow, taunting kisses to her neck, draping the plait across her other shoulder for better access. " so greedy. " it's breathed against her skin, teeth grazing against that same spot, before lips press against the hurt. he's suddenly in no rush to leave, taking his time as he works up her throat, to her jawline, to her ear ... before coming to a stop, despite his body screaming at him to continue. his hand roams away from her hair, idlily stroking her arm, goading on her desire. " we are. " he hums, lacking any urgency, tauntingly close. " the governors of the palaces may get pissy if we're late. "

for all of my natural and heightened dexterity, it was admittedly useless when it came to executing intricate hairstyles, like the ones sported by high fae courtesans throughout the city. a simple, albeit messy, plait was really all i cared ( and knew how ) to do. “ worried i’ll embarrass you? ” i scoffed, but did not resist as he sat me down. my eyes rolled, as i struggled to hide the hint of amusement that threatened to break through — i felt no genuine offense. my chin jutted out petulantly, as i watched him inspect my hair through the mirror. “ a high lady has more important things to worry about than her hair. someone has to rule our court while you admire your reflection for hours. ” i would’ve chided him further, but my breath caught in my throat as he traced my collarbone — goosebumps raising on my bare shoulders, as his touch set me aflame. blood began to rush through my body, as his lips brushed against my skin. instinctively, my head tilted back to expose my throat, while my hand ruffled through his hair and gripped the back of his neck, demanding more. “ i thought you said we were running late. ”

he spares a moment to survey her, the fire he so skillfully lit reflecting in his bright gaze — tempted to use whatever self preservation he has left to keep tauntingly stroke it, just to leave her wanting. but her lips on his becomes his undoing, the leash rhysand had on himself snapping, as he willingly leans down into her kiss with reckless abandon, completely giving into her. " ah? spreading such wicked lies, are we, feyre darling? what a terrible influence i have on you. " words are a sensuous purr on his tongue, as he swiftly lifts feyre to sit upon the vanity for better access, pushing the chair aside to settle between her thighs. " i'm afraid your hair was a lost cause, long before i got involved. " rhys smirks, before tilting her chin upward to capture her mouth fully, hungrily. he wastes no time, sliding his fingers to the back of her head to deepen the kiss, tangling into the hair he's clearly given up on.

my hair, which i’m certain had only become unrulier by the second, was long forgotten. tilting my head back, as i arched against the chair, my eyes fluttered shut with a sharp inhale. the sleeve of my dress continued to slip further down, pulling the bustier with it, but i made no move to pull it back up. slender digits pawed at the nape of his neck and tangled in his hair. each brush of his lips against my exposed flesh was like a match to a flame, igniting a sharp spark that rippled throughout my entire body, with an insatiable thirst for more. breathy gasps escaped me as he explored my bare neck and jawline, only to whimper and groan as he pulled away with cruel intention. “ good thing they like me. i’ll just blame it on you. ” i spun in the chair to face him better, the tulle skirt a twisted mess. my greedy hands pulled at the collar of his shirt, before i nipped at his bottom lip softly and kissed the corner of his mouth. “ i’ll tell them how you messed my hair up and wouldn’t let me leave. ”

@luminour : ‘ what did you imagine as you heard the song ? ’

the melody echoes in his head, igniting memories of what seems to be a different lifetime by now: the sound of his mother's wings against the wind, as they soared over the lit up skyline. one of the countless nights she'd caught him sneaking out, scolding him only to join & soar along with him seconds later. it comes to life so vividly, engulfing him completely — how invincible he had felt. so young, so naive still ... it isn't until she speaks that he's thrown back into reality, grief crushing him as if it were still fresh. stars die out in his eyes only for a moment, the only indication he allows himself to display. " a time of peace. a long time ago. " he shoves away the thought with a smile, hands sliding into his pockets as he leans against the archway, observing the other. " you are quite the talent, though i'm sure you don't need me to tell you that. "

he knows all too well what she's going through — despite how asteria carries herself, rhysand could see right through the mask she adorned, straight down to the pain that lingers beneath it. it's a reflection of the same one he'd worn after returning back from velaris, pretending he was okay for the sake of his family, all the while he was holding himself together with just a thread. ( that bond, tying him to feyre, had been his lifeline. pulling him to shore when he'd felt like he was drowning. )

even now, night terrors still find him, shaking him awake until he is trembling. flashes of amarantha, the echoing crack of feyre's neck ... he hasn't had the courage to ask for the details of asteria's imprisonment, not until she's ready. but he knows that facade is unsustainable — that whatever horrors she had been through would eventually catch up to her, just as they had for him.

that worry is exactly what made him jolt awake, the sound of her nightmares heavy in his head. he knew exactly where to find her, his mirror in so many ways ... the same place he'd go to seek comfort, in the stars & night sky.

he hides how his chest caves in, swallows down the anger that boils up seeing her so hopeless. he would tear apart their world, leave it in a disarray of nothing but red mist, if it had meant returning what was stolen from her. that rage, he knows, is useless now. buried underneath a cool calm, searching for any words instead to ease her pain.

" who you were ... she's not gone, asteria. it may take some time, but piece by piece, you will find her again. " he breathes, moves to stand next to her & lean his back against the rail, gaze lowering onto the ground. " after my time away, i tried to shut everyone out. i pretended like everything was okay. to spare everyone of the guilt, yes — but i also thought that maybe, doing that, i could convince myself that it were true, too. " his brows furrow, taken back to that time that seems so long ago by now. " keeping everything bottled in ... it didn't help. it'll only consume you. "

she painted herself with strength. walked with her head high and that glimmer in her eyes that was known to dwell in the depths of her iris's much like the night skies above. the terrors of being imprisoned by hybern . . . an onlooker would never be the wiser. but that , that was her grandest skill. covering the scars both physical and mental , grasping onto the sliver of inner strength she still wielded as tight as she could , all to portray that she was okay. if not for herself , but for her friends within the inner circle. and most of all , for her brother.

rhysand , from what she had been told by way of cassian and mor , he had been through hells of which even asteria herself could not fathom. under the mountain , the war , tamlin . . . just merely thinking of what it must have been like for him made her heart shatter. it was why asteria took it upon herself to act as if she was okay. because of that joy that radiated through him when they were reunited. because of that smile that grew on his face when he saw hers. who would she be to take that away from him after all else he had lost ?

but secrets had a way of revealing themselves one way or another. no matter your willpower , no matter ones careful steps to keep it buried. and in the case of asteria , it was the nightmares that had sold her out. most she could reel in. use her pillow or a lie to cover the truth. but the most recent was . . . it was too real. and it was why she now found herself outside on the balcony , looking over the vast city of velaris at the side of the only family she had left while the silence of the night washed over them.

rhysand ( @rhysie ) spoke to asteria : ❛  i can’t promise you it’ll get better. but i can promise you i’ll be here with you  ❜

they were the first words uttered from either of them. words that caused her own arms to pull the robe tighter around her waist while the remnants of tears dried under her eyes. ❛   so what do i do ?   ❜ void of the cheerful tone she carried , there is a distance behind each word. ❛   my wings , my mind , who i was . . .   ❜

that's when her eyes moved to his , eyes of violet meeting one another with striking parallel. ❛   i know it won't go away but , what do i do now ? how do i be me when who i am is gone rhys ?   ❜

@meaercies : ❛ be naked when i come home. ❜

he's unwavering with the command, all too casual as he picks invisible lint from his sleeve. as if he weren't just teasing the other seconds prior, adding fuel to his building desire — just to crush it with nothing more than a bored disposition, the fire in his gaze dying out, shoulders shrugging. he wouldn't make it easy for azriel, won't relinquish control without at least a challenge beforehand. " ah, that's cute. " he hums, tilting his head as a brow arches, amusement flickering onto his lips. " remind me, az ... since when do you make demands of your high lord? "

@draconikia : kisses rhys cheek and pats him. pretty highlord.

fingers tousle through cassian's hair, messing up onyx strands as he leans into his touch. he plays off the comment with a mere shrug, lips turning into a small smirk. " it appears the lord of bloodshed has gone soft, hm? "

" i've given up trying to enforce a curfew with you years ago. " warm laughter echoes through his throat, hand sliding to idly trace over illyrian markings across the nape of cassian's neck. " i wanted an update on the camps. " he neglects to mention the worry that plagues his thoughts every time he has to send him there. his safety is of little concern — no, cass can handle himself. but every visit is tolling, even for him. to be rejected by your own, even now ... he shakes it off, pulling features into a smile. a tsk. " though, perhaps that can wait. i can smell now that you're in desperate need for a bath. "

vaguely offensive considering cassian had been paying homage to the particular decadence and beauty of his highlord. but then again, cassian is just back from three solid weeks of training in the illyrian camps. there isn’t a single part of him that wouldn’t benefit from a long hot bath and sleeping for four straight days. maybe his opinions on proper behaviour towards your highlord is skewed? a nuzzle to rhys’ neck as his curls are ruffled. a humph.

‘ tired s’all. why’re you up? is it past my curfew? ‘

asteria only confirms what he'd already known for weeks. he'd only hoped his suspicions were wrong, convinced himself that they couldn't possibly be mates ... yet the spring court seems to keep finding ways to sneak in & stain his life. of course this would be no different. rhysand's gaze is cold on her, losing any of the warmth that is normally reserved for his younger sister. his anger is silent, the calm before the storm, as he he tries to decipher just how far this has gone. enough, if tamlin is already getting in her head.

" kill him? " for everything tamlin has done, to his family, to feyre ... in his darkest moments, when he couldn't even recognize himself, he considered it. the line between who he really was & the monster he had to become whilst under the mountain had been blurred for so long. sometimes he even believed what others had whispered about him. he's shed that skin, by now it felt like a different lifetime, even if there's still some that think of him only as that: the cruel, heartless high lord of night. he knew it was bound to come up, that he'd have to explain the atrocities he'd committed, the mask of terror he wore — but never that she'd believe it.

" is that what you think of me? i can't say that i'm surprised to hear he's already turned you against me. " his words are bald, lacking any sign of the pain that balls up in his throat. " it is what he does best, after all. isolates the people he supposedly cares about. " he replays the countless nights feyre woke him up over the bond, sick over nightmares while tamlin pretended not to notice. how she lost any will to live, as he shut her off from the rest of the world ... his fists curl at the idea of his sister suffering from the same fate.

" i am not the one you have to worry about locking you away. have you any idea what he's done? do you know why, exactly, his court has fallen? " a beat, jaw clenching. he doesn't wish to know the answer to the question on his tongue, if only out of fear. " did you accept the bond? "

it wasn't how she was apt to go about this. how she had envisioned telling her elder brother that not only had she found her mate –– but just whom he was. never for ill intent , nor hoping he would never find out ( somehow rhysand found out everything and it was quite irksome at time. ) rather because she knew the heated tension that lie between the man who held the other end of her tether in the same as feyra held his. complete details were not known to her in the moment , but what asteria did come to know of how the relationship between her mate and rhys dwindled into near nothingness , that is what kept her dragging her feet. kept her sneaking off at times to the other side of prythian when his eye was elsewhere. but it was on borrowed time that she played with. and this moment , here and now , was only to be expected.

rhysand ( @rhysie ) spoke : ❛  you can't just look me in the eye and tell me the truth?  ❜

asteria can feel the drum of her heart beat heavy against her chest as her brother's eyes stayed stone upon her own , no doubt the scent of spring lying heavily on her. she had weeks if not months to devise a way to tell him. to sit him down and explain the person he knew and the person she . . . loved were not the same person. time changed things. and if anyone was to understand that , would it not be rhysand himself ? by gods this was easier in her head. the words linger , paring between outright telling him versus trying to ease him into it. but from his look alone it would be useless. he already knew.

❛   so you can what . . .   ❜ not her best initial response given the heat felt radiating off him. but their mother had once always doted on the fact both her children were far too headstrong for their own good. ❛   have the go - ahead to keep me from him ? to kill him ?   ❜ her words were drastic , but from what her mate had told her of their falling out , asteria would not be one to put it past rhys from doing something out of blind rage.

❛   besides , we both know you already know.   ❜ that , that was when her eyes fully met his and a softness met with stern filled her tone. ❛   you want me to say it , fine. i've been sneaking off to spring court all this time –– tamlin is my mate.   ❜

he can read cassian like a book, ( always has, there was little need for rhys to ever take a glimpse into his mind ) taking in the fear he tries to play off with laughter. he sometimes forgets: after everything he put them through in his absence, the pain & worry that came during that time ... he needs to be more careful now. leaving his court in the dark is no longer an option. " apologies. i got wrapped up in a rather — heated conversation with one of the war camp leaders. " both hands raise to show no harm was done, at least to him, before moving to give a reassuring squeeze to cass' shoulder, grounding him. " i'm fine. "

@rhysie liked ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ starter with 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑎𝑛.

𝐢𝐭'𝐬  𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝  𝐭𝐨  𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡  𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧  𝐢𝐭  𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬  𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞  his  heart  is  in  his  throat     ;     but  he  manages  to  get  the  sound  out.     it's  hoarse,     sounding  as  rough  as  he  felt.     his  brows  pinch  together,      contradicting  the  smile  that  curled  his  lips     &     showed  canines.     "  i  should  have  known  better.  "     they've  both  come  back  from  far  more  perilous  missions.     but  he  gets  in  his  head,     even  now,     blood  rushing  in  his  ears     &     his  massive  body  tense,     itching  for  action.     "  you  worried  me.     you  weren't  responding-  "

@rootedpetals:

fire. her skin was on fire. her emotions were ablaze and on high alert. how dare he. how dare he! a snarl leaves her lips as she looks over at rhysand with pure hatred. "you had no right to do this!"

starlight filled shadows die out, power dimming away until he is seen as just a passive form. if she was fire, he were to be the opposite — unyielding, void of any emotion. unwilling to add any fuel to her flame. he knew elain figuring out about his talk with azriel was inevitable, it was only a matter of time they had this conversation. this is where having his court be made of family became tricky: decisions needed to be made for the wellbeing of everyone, even if it's to their dismay. he wears the face of a high lord, not her brother, calculated grace as his hands fold over themselves. " seeing as though it effects my court, i had every right. " a breath, his voice softening to become a still, dark night. " i don't expect you to know of all the inner workings of this court, or the politics at hand. this would destroy any alliance we have — shred any sense of peace. azriel should have known better. "

he savors every second, every shudder under his touch egging him on further. movements are slow, taunting & teasing, skilled in the ways of torture. a game to see how long it takes before he can break him, that he intends on stretching out for as long as he can — until cassian is pleading for release.

there is sadistic pride in the effect he has on him: the male who he has seen bring armies down singlehandedly, submitting himself so freely to his high lord. now unable to even speak. he decides to challenge it, push him over the edge one last time. lithe fingers sliding over venous wing, his own twitching with desire. he finds the apex of nerves with ease, circling for a moment too long ...

" hm? " feigned innocence swallows the smirk threatening his lips at the insult, rhysand's gaze following him as shoulders simply shrug. " my fingers slipped. "

such casualness is washed away as he stalks closer, closing the space between them. his hand moves to slip under cassian's shirt, tracing shapes upon toned stomach. wicked cruelty laces each movement, each stroke lowering until he stops at the band of his pants. he leans in to nip at his ear, voice coated in honeyed mischief.

" what is it that you want then, cassian? "

𝐃𝐎𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐒   𝐎𝐅   𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐒   𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇   𝐇𝐈𝐒   𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃,   𝐇𝐈𝐒   tongue   pressed   against   the   roof   of   his   mouth   as   if   ready   to   spill   them   all.   but   his   teeth   clench,   confining   the   muscle   behind   them.   he's   let   this   go   on   for   too   long,   so   long   that   his   knee   has   stopped   its   incessant   bouncing,   that   he   might   not   even   be   breathing   because   he's   afraid   the   slightest   movement   will   end   him,   if   rhysand   didn't   put   him   out   of   his   misery   first.

this   was   torture.   this   was   torture   made   worse   by   the   fact   that   it   was   rhysand   doing   it.   but   because   it   was   him,   cassian   didn't   pull   away.   that,   &    because   pulling   away   meant   giving   rhysand   something   to   gloat   about.   that   was   always   the   dilemma,   wasn't   it?   wanting   to   beat   him   at   these   stupid   games   but   also   wanting   to   submit   to   his   high   lord.

(    one   has   happened   more   than   the   other.   there   is   a   sense   of   pride   in   that   too.   )

@rhysie   𝑠𝑎𝒊𝑑:   ❛   do   you   like   that?   ❜   (he   felt   left   out   </3   4   cass)

yes.   goddess,   yes.   muscles   tense   underneath   skin,   adrenaline   pumping   &   blood   rushing   all   through   out.   he   wants   to   speak,   to   laugh   this   all   off   but   the   beast   can   only   grunt   in   response.   just   a   moment   more.   just   a   little   while   longer.   teeth   dig   into   tongue   to   keep   from   begging.   the   white   noise   in   his   ear   rises   in   pitch   as   a   finger   moves   up   the   length   of   a   bone   in   his   wing,   then   slowly   follows   the   trail   of   a   vein   on   the   thin   membrane-

whole   fucking   body   shudders   &    wing   pulls   away   as   cassian   lunges   out   of   his   seat,   snarling.   he   has   to   tug   at   the   string   of   his   leather   pants,   the   knots   loosening   from   where   his   bulge   threatened   to   spill.

"   don't   be   an   ass.   "

most nights are filled with tossing & turning, waiting for sleep that never comes. he finds himself out on the balcony more often than not: taking comfort in the star filled endless dark sky, the sea breeze washing away night terrors. it's the only time he finds peace these days.

this time, however, the idea of serenity seems far off. it seems sleep doesn't come so easy for more than him. he's halfway tempted to turn around without a word, avoid the exchange that will no doubt turn volatile within seconds. it always did with them. yet against better judgment, rhysand only stares blankly at nesta, no amusement flickering in his dark gaze — floating to the bottle in her hands.

" ah. so you're who's been drinking my cellar dry. here i was, blaming cassian. " the usual bite in his words is lacking, neutral. too exhausted for a fight. with a breath, he takes the chair next to her, snatching the bottle from her fingers before inspecting the label.

" expensive taste. " it's followed by a swig, leaning back to relax, sore bones sighing in relief. " couldn't sleep, either? "

there’s something livid and furious within her, it rages and feeds off her festering anger she was born with. no that isn’t right, she was born a common ordinary baby. her mother trained it into her, her grandmother tormented her to make her perfect. she doesnt know where to put all those feelings. or even what to do when those feelings aren’t just anger, when there’s grief, when there is hurt.

a bottle of wine in hand as she glances at the male who walks towards her. lips lift in mockery of a smile, little more than a sneer as she salutes with the half emptied bottle.

‘ little lord rhysie-poo. your general let that one slip —. how can i serve you my lord? ‘

no slur to her speak, but her cold calculating gaze haunted more than angry. she is almost languid on this late night. the exhaustion of the nightmares that don’t let her sleep mellowing that anger to an ache, the flames of her fury banked to ashes that merely smolder.

‘ if you’re just going to stand there, mind going to the left? you’re blocking my moon beam. ‘

nesta && rhys // @rhysie