The Fire In Her Words Is Expected, Rhysand Unflinching With The Fervor Packed Outburst. They've Gone

the fire in her words is expected, rhysand unflinching with the fervor packed outburst. they've gone through the same song & dance countless of times now, ever since feyre issued her ultimatum. he knew nesta wouldn't be eager to go along with it, but she was wasting away, pushing away everyone who cared about her. someone had to step in. " i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but for as long as you live our court, burning through our gold marks, like it or not, you do. feyre has given you enough patience. " if he didn't witness firsthand how this was effecting his mate, rhysand thinks he might be able to extend that same amount of patience. he knows what she's going through, being forced to live a life you didn't want, the self hatred that seems to burn you alive ... maybe, if they didn't have such similarities, they wouldn't always be at odds like this.

" i'm well aware it won't work. " his voice is bald, shoulders shrugging. " you would have to actually want to change — to get better, and clearly you are more than fine wasting your days away in this miserable existence. " he had his own moments of shutting everyone out when he returned from under the mountain, uncertain of where the mask he had to wear for so long ended & he really began. but his family pushed him to get through it, helped him see the world in color again. even if he sometimes finds him lost in that facade, slipping into those same habits, constantly questioning his own morals. every day slowly gets easier. she deserves at least a chance for the same. " i implore you to at least try, if not for yourself, then for the people that care about you. "

@rhysie: do you mean to spend your whole life running away?

prompt vault. * always accepting !

“ what do you care? ” she snaps, words cold and hard as ice. nesta is sick of this meddling, this intervention they're trying to stage for her. he's not doing it because he cares ( she's not a fool to expect that from him ). he's doing it for feyre, and for the inconvenience of her existence in this blasted court. it's not like she asked to be here. “ what i do or don't do with my life is none of your business. i don't answer to you. ” nesta knows that's not entirely true. she lives in velaris. just a few months ago she'd agreed to work with him, to be an emissary of the night court to the human lands. but that was before elain was taken away due to her lackluster attempt at scrying. before the war with hybern, before cassian's broken body on the grass, before her father's broken neck. things have changed since then. she might be under his jurisdiction but it doesn't mean she has to be happy or willing. “ it won't work, you know, ” nesta adds, every syllable dripping with malice. “ whatever the point is of you asking me to train with cassian. it won't work. ” she almost feels sorry for feyre, almost wants to beg for elain's forgiveness. but there are things she just can't allow herself to feel anymore ( and things she simply can't feel, no matter if she allows it. ) “ this is who i am, ” nesta tells rhysand in a flat, colorless voice. “ not even your damned cauldron managed to change that. ”

i was meaningless. her thoughts echo over the bond tying them together, loud enough that his lips part to object, to bring her any sort of comfort — to ensure feyre of what tamlin hasn't. that he'd do whatever it takes, give his own life, to make sure she leaves this mountain alive. he decided it as soon as she showed up: the human girl who has kept him going, without even knowing it. it was now his turn to repay the favor. but the risk of amarantha catching even an inkling of how important she is to him … it’s enough to kill his urge. he’s already risking too much with these visits, as is.

but that softness lingers in his features, that mask becoming harder & harder to wear around her. everything he has gone through, every awful command he has followed, the faces of everyone he’s had to kill. it all flashes before him, with enough detail to make him flinch. after all of these wasted years, he was barely surviving. his will to live had been shattered, any hope of seeing his family again lost, until he started dreaming. visions of quiet peace suddenly flooded his mind, then: beautiful paintings, soft hands, sunlight beaming through trees onto the forrest floor. to know of such an existence out there, that wasn’t plagued by all of this darkness, pulled him through. gave him some semblance of hope that had been lost long ago. how cruel the cauldron must be … to show him all of that, just to make him watch as all of that light is killed. to make it worse, she doesn’t even know. how he’s survived — it’s all thanks to her human heart, too.

rhysand shrugs, that sadness traded for a cold exterior, as if he suddenly remembers the part he must play again. even if she knew, would she be happy to hear it? that she helped such a monster continue on … the disgust in her gaze, every time she so much as looks at him speaks enough. & suddenly, all of that sly charisma is turned back on, forcing a smirk that’s unable to meet his eyes, finally allowing himself to glance at her. “ i’m more adaptable to the darkness than most, feyre darling. “

my final trial was fast approaching — just a couple more nights and it would all be over. certain death awaited. i knew amarantha would never let me out of here alive, but i would still do everything i could to ensure that tamlin and the others had a fighting chance. my life had been forfeit the moment i went under the mountain. all we would have left were a few decades — an otherwise, insignificant amount of time in a immortal high lord’s powerful existence. i was meaningless. they would all forget about me as soon as i was gone. my human heart was failing.

my nights had blurred into days, as i accepted my looming fate. somehow rhysand had become my most frequent companion — the most pitiful part of myself was almost grateful for it. even if that meant being subjected to his depravity and condescension, it was still somewhat better than being left to waste away on the cold floor with nothing but my doom and despair. rather it was simple boredom or a ploy to get under tamlin’s skin that brought him here, i no longer had it in me to care. i ignored his attempt to place any doubt in my mind — i knew not to question tamlin’s heart. i knew that even in his silence and stoicism, he was protecting me in his own way — even if that lack of acknowledgment was killing me just as slowly.

i didn’t move from my spot on the ground, leaning against my knees to relieve my aching back. i’m sure i looked as pathetic as i felt, crouched in the corner surrounded by filth. i blinked up at rhysand — it’s perhaps the nicest thing he’s ever said to me, that anyone had for months. i did not understand this side of him — such a far cry from the high lord who had almost crushed my mind with a flick of his fingers, or the one who sauntered through the throne room with his head held high. there was the slightest hint of defeat that hung from his shoulders now, just as it did mine. perhaps, because i was so tired of fighting, and of being alone, i found myself asking, " how have you survived for so long down here then? "

a smile darts across his features, solemn & fleeting, disappearing as soon as amren presses further. with all that is going on, a war no doubt on it's way — rhysand's concern should be focused elsewhere. he feels ashamed to admit that his mind has been consumed by the bond, the news he'd heard through it, the joy that his mate had felt upon a proposal. feyre's thoughts were too loud to drown out sometimes, no matter how much he wished to tune it out. it was a bitter reminder of what he'll never have.

rhysand's fingers drum against the glass of amber, eyes dropping as he takes a breath. " she is going to marry him. " his tone is quiet, broken, lacking the confidence of a high lord. during the past few weeks of feyre's return to the spring court, he was hoping that tamlin's treatment of her was just ... a transitional period, that he'd notice the lifeless shell she had become. step in & do something. yet day by day, she continues to wither away, all while he just watches.

" if she were happy — truly happy. i could bear it. " but her nightmares that keep him awake at night, the way she empties out her stomach while tamlin sleeps soundly, tells him all he needs to know. " but she's wasting away there, while they all pretend to not notice ... am i just supposed to do the same? "

amren leans against a doorway, the look on her face vague and impenetrable. it's been weeks since rhysand has returned from under the mountain. he did not need words for the rest of them to understand that he was not having the best time. whatever happened to him under amarantha's thumb... rage rises inside her, fast and steady, poised to strike like a snake. but the object of her ire is long dead. it's a pity, really, that it wasn't amren who killed her.

“ soft? ” she scoffs, taking the seat he offered her and crossing one leg over the other. in the dark, she surveys rhysand with her swirling silver gaze. the tired cast of his face is answer enough to amren's unasked question. “ i remain as sharp as ever, boy. ” she leans forward, takes the glass of blood he so kindly conjured for her and takes a generous sip, tongue darting out to lick her lips clean. “ i can't sleep, and you're out here brooding so i'm surmising you can't either. ” it's partly true, but amren won't deny that she is worried about rhysand as well. as his second, she feels it is part of her charge to ensure his wellbeing from time to time. she hasn't been able to perform that duty in 49 years.

“ out with it, then. ” amren leans back in her seat, braces one elbow against the back of her chair. “ what is on your mind, high lord? ”

he's never seen cassian so tied up about anyone like this, let alone a female — he uses care when approaching the subject, keeping his taunts to himself, for the sake of his brother's open vulnerability. it's only when he realizes the hurt in his brother's eyes, that rhysand scowls, fingers drumming against the arm of his chair. " she has been going down a dark path. feyre has expressed her own concern, as well. " his tone is kept neutral, biting down the resentment that lingers. her treatment of his mate had been excruciating to watch, to know that it'd been effecting cassian too ... rhysand finishes off his glass, resting his cheek against his fist. " perhaps, we can all discuss further steps together. she can't keep going on like this. " if it's what he suspects, if there is a bond between them, a warning won't keep cassian away — but there is a chance that this will end in only heartache for him. " just ... don't allow yourself to get too close, if she'll even allow it. for your own sake. "

he gives only a huff in answer to rhys's statement, throwing back the rest of the liquid in his glass then before more appears in its wake. he's rather grateful to the house for filling it for him, but nothing will take his thoughts fully from the archeron sister a few rooms away. he listens to his brother, somehow managing to focus enough on his words to form some of his own. ❝ i don't... i don't know. ❞ a lie. he knows damn well why it bothers him so much, but aside from being too afraid to say it out loud, he's worried his brother will laugh at him. not for any particular reason, but the worry is still there. shifting as rhys settles beside him, the two of them now drinking together as they have more times than he can even begin to count, cassian goes on. ❝ i'm trying so hard, rhys. seeing her destroy herself... i can barely take it anymore. ❞ he'd never try to control or dictate the female's actions, but he's afraid of what might happen if he can't step in and help her in the right way. he looks to his high lord, a sad look about him. ❝ she's different around me. sometimes. and just when i think she's opening up, she snaps at me. ❞

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

@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. "