He Laughs As He Watches Cassian Drop The Dummy: A Reminder Of The Of Shadows & Anguish He'd Become Upon

he laughs as he watches cassian drop the dummy: a reminder of the of shadows & anguish he'd become upon returning back from the mountain, where he should have been relieved seeing his family again, rhysand was a mess of conflicting emotions. distracted, distraught, every thought leading back to the newly turned fae ... feyre, promised & engaged to his enemy. through it all, every rough night, cassian was there. a pillar of support, even if he didn't know the full extent.

so, rhysand will be that for him, now — no matter how much he seems to be shying away from the topic. sadly, for his brother, he wont be dropping the topic that easily. " ah, it seems they haven't taken a liking to our new rules. unsurprisingly. it may be time for another visit ... " words trail off, as if he's already grown bored of playing high lord, waving off the topic of the camps with a shrug.

" but, that's something i can easily handle myself, if need be. i was planning on checking in, anyways. besides, it seems you already have your hands full here ... " a knowing smirk, hands sliding into pockets. cassian's silent plea goes ignored, as rhysand stalks around the training grounds, getting a closer look at the nearly destroyed dummy. " tell me, how is it going with nesta, hm? that bad? "

he shouldn't be surprised that rhys knew what was bothering him — after all, he's had his own wrestle in an attempt to get his archeron sister. he remembers watching him before feyre realized their bond, each and every facial expression once she left the room, his own training when she so much as wore something revealing or wore her hair a certain way. HE FEELS LIKE THAT, BUT TENFOLD. they didn't kiss or bed each other before they shared those feelings. cassian hated sleeping alone. she never asked. did she want him to stay.

“ that is the understatement of the century, my friend. ” cassian says, letting out one final blow and watches the dummy topple over. he walks over to the nearest weapon rack, chest heaving with each and every breath. damn her and her grip on him. he wonders how much rhys is going to pry — a lot, if he knows him. cauldron, save him.

with his hands on his hips, the illyrian male makes his way back over to his high lord, ignoring the sweat - drenched hair falling in his face. “ what of the illyrian war camps? there's nothing i want to talk about more. ” he's half pleading, eyes squinting. “ is something going wrong? ”

it's a view rhysand could never imagine, even in his wildest dreams: his sister, drowning in starlight, so close within his reach ... alive, safe — that, he would make sure of, forever — even if it's been days since her return, he's not sure it'll ever be a sight that he isn't grateful for, taking in every second, engraving every breath into his brain. it's his only salvation, when he wakes up at night in a cold sweat, his mind convincing him that none of this is real, that it was all just some cruel dream.

he allows himself to silently appreciate this moment before alerting asteria of his presence, his chest tightening with such a flood of different emotions. guilt, that he couldn't have made her return happen much sooner, the sullen sadness that creeps onto her face when she thinks he isn't looking. & joy, that this was even happening at all. flying again: an idea that sprung after he quietly sought out the opinions of every healer, desperate to find any way to return the gift of flight, only to come up short time & time again. rhysand knew it was a hopeless search, but after having his wings clipped for years, under the mountain ... the ache for the wind whipping against him, tearing at him every night, he had to at least try.

at the very least, he'll be her wings. he approaches from the darkness, stars & shadows following in his path, asking if she's ready, to get a response that earns laughter in return. " just wanted to make sure you weren't getting cold feet. " a smirk, he offers asteria his arm. " teaching you to fly was quite the task, if i'm remembering correctly. "

every emotion under the starlight sky absorbed into asteria in this moment. never did she expect to stand here after all those years she sat imprisoned below the earth. held captive by the king of hybern not knowing if the views of those cobblestone walls of her cell would be her final view of this earth. it was the view of the stars on this clear night that seemed to shine brighter than she could ever recall , the glistening shimmer they painted as they arched over the mountains. while there was an overwhelming joy that flooded her bloodstream in this moment , there was also sadness. the phantom pang radiating from the two deep scars on her back where once sat a pair of beautiful illyrian wings. what a crazed mix of feelings it was.

that was 'til sounds of her brother's voice rang against her ear , in that moment , all unease and depression momentarily lifted. the grin etched on his aged features accentuating just how much time had passed since that night at the cabin. but there was no time to linger in the past. tonight , this night , was the night he had promised her days ago. the very eve she had counted down to since he brought up the idea. and with him now beside her , there was nothing to hide the overwhelming smile ever so growing on her features.

rhysand ( @rhysie ) spoke to asteria : ❛   so ... you think you're ready ?   ❜

did he really have to ask ? asteria formed the look. the one that seemed to be passed down in their family. a dumbfounded glare when asked a question that the other party already knew the answer to. ❛   i have been ready for decades.   ❜

he all but crumbles under her presence, the paint brush a welcomed distraction — allowing her to mark her claim wherever she wishes, a pleased smile accompanying his darkened gaze. he's wrapped up in her, lets his guard down to be completely consumed by feyre, taking it all in. her scent: lilac, pears & paint, their shared breaths, the fire in her eyes that clearly show this isn't over. he leans in closer, giving into all temptation, before there is just a cloud of smoke replacing her presence. " i suppose i taught you too well, hm? " he laughs, lowering her to the ground to twist them around, rhysand now the one with his back against the wall. hands find her hips, easing her closer as he peppers kisses down her jawline & neck, stopping when his lips meet her collarbone, words murmured onto flesh. " it seems you're forgetting our bargain ... " fingers trail to her left arm, running over the ink that stains her skin. he has her right where he wanted her now, his brush coated with black appears in his hand, marking a matching x upon her heart. " we go together. "

i stifle the gasp and look of surprise that threatens to spread across my features, as he appears in front of me, suddenly backing me against the wall. i may have been quick on my feet, but he could always keep me on my toes. his mere presence is overpowering, as i struggle to not become entirely consumed by his raw power and proximity. my chin turned up, “ sensitive and fiendish baby. ” my last, pitiful line of defense -- i hold the brush out in front of me as if it were an ash encrusted dagger. holding his gaze as steady as i could, i quickly paint a pink x over his heart, marking it as mine. my stance eases, if only to let him think that he's won. slowly, the brush trails down his legs, dangerously close to his inner thighs. also mine. leaning forward, i pause for just a moment, ensuring he felt the heat of my breath, before i whispered in his ear, " did you expect me to surrender? " before he can respond, i winnow behind him, snickering as i paint two more x's across his buttcheeks. my arms snake around his neck, as i hop on his back, planting a kiss on his cheek. " you're dead. "

* ☔ : action prompts inspired by FANTASY, NOBILITY, ETC. some prompts are usfw. add reversed for the muse receiving the meme to perform the action instead. ( adjust scenarios or specify details as needed. )

crown of dawn. sender swears their fealty to the receiver.

crown of silver. sender congratulates the receiver on their political engagement, hiding their true affection for the receiver.

crown of midnight. sender dances with the receiver at a masquerade.

crown of glass. sender meets the receiver while their true identity is concealed.

crown of shadows. sender controls the receiver through magic or blackmail, making them their pawn so they can rule from the background.

crown of ink. sender meets the receiver for the first time after they are joined in an arranged marriage.

crown of starlight. sender kneels before the receiver to receive a boon.

crown of rot. sender accuses the receiver of failing their people.

crown of sorrow. sender tells the receiver they are the new lord/queen/etc. as those ahead of them in the line of succession have died.

crown of blood. sender stands before the receiver to be judged for their crimes.

crown of lies. sender accuses the receiver of not being the true heir.

crown of thorns. sender crowns the receiver after killing the previous ruler.

crown of nightshade. sender consumes a poisoned drink meant for the receiver.

---

wand of bone. sender uses necromancy to raise the receiver's companions from to dead to aid the sender in fighting against the receiver.

wand of ivy. sender ensnares the receiver in a net of living vines.

wand of twilight. sender conjures the spirit of the receiver from the land of the dead to speak with them.

wand of clouds. sender infiltrates the receiver's dreams to learn their desires.

wand of portals. sender summons the receiver to their world.

wand of resurrection. sender brings the receiver back to life.

wand of memory. sender clouds the receiver's mind so they don't leave.

wand of blossoms. sender grows flowers in the receiver's hair.

wand of salt. sender heals the receiver's wounds.

wand of leaves. sender asks the receiver to read their fortune.

wand of lightning. sender conjures a storm to impede the receiver.

wand of masks. sender crosses paths with the receiver while disguised as them.

wand of flesh. sender wounds the receiver to fuel their blood magic.

---

sword of honor. sender challenges the receiver to a duel to decide an argument.

sword of moons. sender wakes up to discover the receiver pressing a blade against the sender's throat.

sword of sacrifice. sender takes a deadly attack meant for the receiver.

sword of wrath. sender kills the receiver's loved one(s) as they watch.

sword of loyalty. sender executes someone at the receiver's command.

sword of blessings. sender asks the receiver to bless their weapon before battle.

sword of madness. sender tries to stop the receiver's bloodthirsty rage.

sword of ruin. sender tortures the receiver for information.

sword of defeat. sender surrenders to the receiver after a hard-fought battle.

sword of ash. sender asks the receiver to kill them for failing the receiver.

sword of spite. sender twists their weapon deeper into the receiver's wound.

sword of wind. sender quickly kills an enemy before they attack the receiver.

sword of betrayal. sender stabs the receiver in the back.

---

card of misfortune. sender catches the receiver trying to pick their pocket.

card of coins. sender buys the receiver a drink at a tavern.

card of vipers. sender meets the receiver in a thieves' den.

card of fools. sender finds the receiver caught in a trap, magical or otherwise.

card of iron. sender recognizes the receiver from a wanted poster.

card of vultures. sender is caught looting a dead body by the receiver.

card of songs. sender asks a bard to sing a ballad about the receiver.

card of keys. sender picks a lock to help the receiver escape.

card of winter. sender finds the receiver dying of frostbite and gathers them in their arms to warm them.

card of dust. sender finds the receiver asleep over a book and wakes them.

card of stars. sender keeps the receiver company during first watch at camp.

card of crows. sender warns the receiver they're being followed but that the sender can protect them—for a fee.

card of twine. sender stitches a wound shut for the receiver.

---

heart of virtue. sender presses a kiss to the back of the receiver's hand.

heart of devotion. sender slips their signet ring onto the receiver's finger.

heart of roses. sender gives the receiver a token of their favor before a tourney.

heart of thrones. sender kneels before the receiver to pleasure them.

heart of destiny. sender tells the receiver they are fated or reincarnated lovers.

heart of honey. sender intimately feeds the receiver by hand.

heart of darkness. sender cloaks themselves and the receiver in shadows so they can kiss in public.

heart of stone. sender asks the receiver to be their lover as they can't marry.

heart of gold. sender renounces their title to be with the receiver.

heart of wolves. sender intimately licks blood from the receiver's body.

heart of knives. sender cuts the clothes from the receiver's body, unable to wait.

heart of dusk. sender meets the receiver in secret to be together.

heart of embers. sender initiates intimacy to keep the receiver warm.

" feyre darling, if you wanted to have some fun with the paddle — all you had to do was ask. " wickedness manifests in a single wink, so tied up in her gaze that he's forgotten the challenge at hand. where rhysand should be disappointed that she slipped right from his grasp, he instead finds himself impressed with how fast she gained the upper hand, unsurprisingly. he has always had a blind spot for her. " clearly, whoever taught you knew what he was doing. " lips twitch in amusement as feyre threatens his creation, not even sparing a glance toward the canvas: a blank sheet of black, done carelessly, a clear giveaway that the brush filled of pink means no real threat to him. hands hold up in feigned defeat & within seconds, he's winnowing right in front of her, palms pressed to the wall above either side of her head. " what was that about terrible reflexes again? "

my arms crossed over my chest ( albeit smudging the paint in worse ), holding my ground with poised self-assurance as he approached. ever the face of impertinent stubbornness. the sheer audacity of my mate to suggest i had started it — i certainly couldn’t stand down now. a skeptical click of my tongue, “ hm. is he to blame for your terrible reflexes? ” grand and haughty amusement glimmered in my eyes, as i struggled to bite back a grin, determined not to yield. “ perhaps you deserve the paddle for your insolence. ” i had made a point to hold to hold his gaze without so much as blinking — only to surrender my territory, retreating from his grasp and quickly backing towards a protected corner, as dirty water flailed across the small room. i should’ve expected him to turn my own weapon against me. “ oh, you will be cleaning these floors, rhysand! as i mop them with you! ” i grab a thick brush dipped in bright pink paint and hold it threateningly close to his ... masterpiece. “ be careful now. ”

WHERE SHOULD YOU BE KISSED?

KNUCKLES: it feels as though you have fought every day of your life. sometimes, you cannot even tell how much of the blood on your hands is your own ... & how much comes from those who've tried to hurt those you defend. you deserve the gentleness of a kiss to your bruised knuckles & broken skin, a reminder that you are not only made of violence.

TAGGED BY: @denouemente

TAGGING: @feydarling , @musikensangel , @valkyrd , @deathsconsort , @temptsdeath , & you!!