moondevoured - she took something precious...
she took something precious...

this once-human female who had conquered death, who now glowed as if she had devoured the moon.

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Moondevoured - She Took Something Precious...

moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...
moondevoured - she took something precious...

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More Posts from Moondevoured

10 months ago

And if I said Nesta coming out of the Bog of Oorid with an army of the dead, the trove on her face, and two of Prythian’s greatest warriors kneeling before her, is the best scene in the ACOTAR series?


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10 months ago

struggling to remember if i've followed somebody and they've soft blocked me after the fact (valid) or if i've just looked at their blog without following in the past.


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10 months ago
moondevoured - she took something precious...

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10 months ago

for all of the HEAT coursing through her being - the sizzling of rage in her chest, the burning ache in her toes - it was the sensation of tears searing the corners of her eyes that pulled nesta back to her senses (somewhat). nesta hadn't cried in longer than she could remember... wouldn't have been surprised to learn that she simply couldn't anymore. but she absolutely would not start again in rhysand's presence. wouldn't give him the satisfaction of thinking her tears were caused by his words, or an attempt to garner a shred of sympathy for him.

nesta turned on her heel, away from his sardonic gaze, and blinked rapidly at the view from the window of the world beyond. it was beautiful. the sight would calm a normal person. but she wasn't normal - nor was she a person anymore. not really. the sight rekindled her RED HOT RAGE and the male's words fanned the flames.

she turned on her heel just in time to see the mess she'd made evaporate into thin air. how easy life must have been for him, to change his surroundings without so much of a wave of his hand. nesta may have been intrigued by such a power under different circumstances, may have even coveted it for herself, but on this occassion she was HORRIFIED by it. not by the display of what he could do, but by the realisation that she was now more like him than different.

power lurked in her veins too. she wanted to tear it out.

of course he wasn't here for her. she wanted to lift her middle finger to him at the notion that she may have hoped his presence would be for her benefit. he was the absolute last of his kind that she'd ever want to see - other than the king of hybern, but she barely considered that creature to be one of their kind.

begrudgingly, she had seen goodness in some of their kind.

cassian and azriel entered into her mind. she wanted to ask how they were; craved the strange comfort of the comraderie they shared with one another. but she was too scared to find out their fates; too proud to show an interest to this so called high lord when he was displaying just how HIGH AND MIGHTY he could be. once again she wished elain was herself. her sweetest sister wouldn't hesitate to inquire about their wellbeing.

baring her teeth, nesta took several steps towards him. "nothing is aiding her recovery. she was trapped in that place, and now she's trapped here." she doesn't mention the cauldron, how she fears it trapped her very essence before nesta stole some of it's own. bile stings her throat.

"here's an idea for you rhysand - you worry about your siblings, and i'll worry about mine. that is unless you decide to be a man..." perhaps that was beneath him too. "and get feyre back."

nesta hoped her seemingly callous comment would prompt rhysand to offer a kernel of information. she wasn't entirely sure how she knew, but it occurred to her that cassian wouldn't stay away unless he truly had no choice. once she had behaved as if his jokes and crass comments irritated her. now she'd do anything to hear another. and although azriel was a male of few words, she missed the way that he at least didn't look at her like she was the worst creation to have walked the earth.

perhaps they were in this very house and she could find them for herself. she had more HOPE of that than of feyre's return. nesta couldn't make sense of what she was doing in the spring court... couldn't make sense of much at all anymore. she had always prided herself on her intelligence. now she was utterly useless.

their worlds have been flipped upside down in the matter of seconds. the agonizing days that followed were no help: with no way of knowing when feyre would return home, or if she was even safe — both of his brothers remaining with the healers, cassian's wings still torn to shreds. elain and nesta's lives that they once knew, being ripped from them. that night ... rhysand had never felt so helpless, with azriel's blood pooling at their feet, cassian unable to even stand, feyre being their only way to salvation. for once, he was paralyzed, drowning in the dread of his worst fears coming to fruition.

and for nesta to be forced into all of this, taken to the other side of the wall that she held in such low regard, held captive in a life she had no desire for. he's known once what that feels like, to be trapped, to say goodbye to everything you once knew. perhaps there was some sort of hope, that maybe they could find common ground. it was a desperate attempt at keeping peace, extending an offer of some support, even if he knew the odds of her taking to him kindly weren't in his favor.

however, the crashing of porcelain and vitriol directed toward him cause that hope to fizzle out quickly. star-kissed wind readies to absorb any fragments that never quite make it, and rhysand stands unmoving. the light in his eyes is distant, a flicker of simmering rage that he blinks away, only for the sake of his mate. if he hadn't seen first hand how she treated feyre, the memories he's walked through, ( A COTTAGE IN THE WOODS : an older sister, eager to let the youngest take on the pressure of providing for everyone else, without lifting a finger. baring her teeth as she barks insults, looking down at her with pure resentment. ) and maybe if she weren't still behaving in that exact same manor, even now ... with feyre sacrificing the freedom she had just gained, all for her sake. his patience wouldn't be wearing so thin.

yet rhysand swallows all of that down, and instead waits it out as nesta goes through the motions. fingers pluck lint from the dark sleeve of his tunic, any softness on his face that might have once resembled sympathy, dwindles down to indifference akin to boredom. he doesn't even so much as glance towards the spoon, as it barely reaches his chest before clinking to the ground. there's only a flicker of amusement that lights up his features, for only a second, as her destruction backfires onto her. a rabid animal, indeed.

" whilst i admire the theatrics ... " a click of his tongue and with a graceful flick of the wrist, celestial darkness ripples across the room, swallowing the wreckage in one fell swoop. a disapproving look is shot her way, and rhysand merely shrugs. " i'm not here for you, though i know that may come as a shock. i came to see how elain is faring. " violet eyes once over the now spotless room, as shadows start to dissipate. " but i'm sure having to listen to this outburst of yours will prove to be very helpful in aiding her recovery. "


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