#bringing you the drama here

[popjunkie42]

Chains - Chapter Two

Read on AO3

Summary:

Lucien steals Feyre away from the safety of the Night Court as she and Rhys train in the Illyrian Steppes. Winnowing her to the Spring Court and Tamlin, Feyre must contend with the consequences of leaving while held against her will.

An ACOMAF Chapter 47 divergence.

Chapter Two: Feyre and Tamlin face each other once again. An unwelcome visitor arrives.

TW: Some references back to UTM and some abusive anger side of Tamlin.

All the love to @witch-and-her-witcher and @foundress0fnothing for the beta reads and excellent thoughts - especially with this chapter which needed some work after that first draft...

Thank you for all the love you guys! Yes I am chasing that serotonin boost. I hope I have a good story waiting for you all, this chapter definitely deals in the drama. Enjoy!

Chapter two under the cut or Read on AO3.

The grand dining room opened before me as two sentires led me in by the arms. Grand and terrifying. Ornate but sickeningly familiar. Brimming with memories, of a life, a person I was not so very long ago.

The sentries turned and left quickly, as if afraid of me. Or afraid to face someone else.

An unsettled feeling sunk heavily into my bones. As if my body was too heavy, my mind too light. The adrenaline had left me and I felt so, so quiet inside.

I was sitting at the table as if we were about to have a pleasant lunch. Sunlight filtered in gently through the large windows, catching floating dust and the errant sparkle of faelight in their beams.

Had I ever even really left? Had it all been a dream? Dread gripped my stomach in a too-familiar fist at the sights, the smells of this place.

Tamlin stalked into the room, heavy boots clipping loud on the marble as he passed behind me. My muscles stiffened. Reflectively, I flexed those internal muscles to check my mental shield, only to find again the silent void of my magic. The heavy weight of history between us as he slowly lowered himself on the carved wooden chair at the head of the table, his eyes never leaving me.

It was smart of him, at least, to be cautious. Had my powers been with me I would have grown claws and gone for his heart.

But here we were, me a prisoner in a dining room, him the male that had crossed all the lines to take me back.

Protective. Territorial. Controlling.

He watched me with wariness in his eyes, but it was impossible to mask the power and command of him. It prickled on my skin, tingled down my spine.

The last time I was here we had fought. He had walked away, angry, as I begged and pleaded with him.

The night before that, I had been in his arms, his hands and lips all over me. But my body had been this numb, disjointed thing - my mind even worse, but I had escaped, had been pulled out from under water to take a sip of cold clean air of Velaris, and now, and now –

My mouth opened to take in a breath, shallow and choked. Tamlin’s hand twitched on the table, still quiet, still observing.

What could I say to him? How could I fight against that desperate sickness – that fear, that angry panic – I could see poisoning him from within?

I had to tell him. I had to convince him he was wrong. That we didn’t work together anymore. That his enemy had become my friend.

That the future I saw, now, was me with my powers. Not buried under dresses or hidden in manors to plan parties and bury my head from the world - but in Prythian, working towards something.

Words wouldn’t form in my mind. Clenching my fists, I worked to slow my breathing, to quell the panicked thunder of my heart. I felt the distance between who I was here, before, and who I had become these past months when given room to grow, to fight, to shine. Another inner flex, a call to that ancient and familiar well of power, shining a light in the dark looking for a reflection.

“Feyre,” Tamlin finally spoke, gently, like I was a child. “I know this is difficult. I know you’re confused. But I’m not your enemy. Rhysand is in your mind, he’s poisoned you. But we’re going to help you.”

“You poisoned me,” I said, barely a whisper escaping my raw throat. “What did Lucien do to me?”

A deep sigh, as if he’d have to start at the beginning, explain the whole world to me.

“It's faebane, to smother magic. I didn’t want to resort to this, Feyre. But it will keep your mind closed. And protect us here in Spring. I know you don’t really want to hurt us, but we have to be careful.”

Perhaps Tamlin could guess, but he didn’t really know. What he had let into his manor. This faebane that poisoned my lungs would have to work its way out sometime. And when it did, I would dig down deep, until I pulled the foundation of this place out from the ground…

“What do you remember, Feyre?”

I laughed, my voice husky and hoarse. In his eyes I was helpless, mind broken into pieces. “Believe what you want, Tamlin, but my mind is my own. I remember everything. I remember what happened the last time I was here.”

For the first time in what felt like hours, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. One, two. Opened them again.

We were alone in the dining room, sitting together at the heavy table, empty of everything. Sunlight streamed through the windows, catching the glint in the High Lord’s eyes, a soft breeze rustling the curtains. Birds sang outside and somewhere on the grounds I heard the gardeners singing, the occasional clank of their shovels in the dirt.

Quiet. Peaceful. Slow. Like getting caught in dripping molasses. I had almost forgotten the sounds of this place, the warm kiss of a spring breeze on my skin. So different from the loud, electric jolt of Velaris, the thrum of life that had been seeping into my veins these past weeks. Bringing me back to life.

I forgot how much this manor felt like a marble tomb. The smell of roses was sickly sweet in my nostrils, like rot.

Here, it would be easy to forget who I was. To be so consumed with Tamlin, the presence he took up, the feelings of duty and lack within me. I saw now how there had only ever been room for small bits of me in this place - the Feyre who secluded herself away and painted, the one who always observed, who shut her mouth to survive. There wasn’t room in this manor, the whole Court, for the parts of me that hurt and cried and screamed, the vicious mouth, or the daughter who took the weight of her family on her shoulders.

Breathing deeply again, I willed my hands to be still. I willed my heart to slow, to calm the jittery crawl of my skin, to quell the nausea rolling in my stomach.

I had to remember who I was.

“Tamlin,” I said quietly, “I do not wish to be here. You have to let me go. I have never sworn myself to you, and I am not bidden to the Spring Court.”

I didn’t know what I expected from him, but the coldness in those green eyes surprised me. Any of that tenderness, fear or longing at seeing me again after all these weeks was now buried deep inside him, if he truly felt such things at all.

“Feyre.” I bristled at his tone, at the voice of the High Lord, unquestioned. Full of unrelenting command.

“Since they took you,” he continued, “I have done nothing but search for you. You do not know the things I have done, the pieces of my Court I’ve cut away. I have been relentless in doing nothing but pursuing you, and I would never abandon you.”

My teeth ground together. “I wrote to you, Tamlin. I told you I left. That I was safe.”

“Safe and cared for,” he growled, his command slipping back into the beast. “I knew he wrote that letter for you. How could that monster ever treat you with care? How could you be safe in that horrible place?” Emerald eyes were hard on me now, his pupils dark, searching and full of question. “Where has he kept you? In the Hewn City? Were you a prisoner there? My spies…” he quieted at that, still reluctant to tell me anything. To share anything of importance.

“What did your spies tell you?” I asked. Wondering who they were, if I would recognize them in this place.

His sharp jaw, covered in uncharacteristic stubble, set and he looked away from me. “They said you were rarely there. But when you were…it was, it was like it was Under the Mountain.”

My cheeks heated as my heart stumbled a beat. I would have to deal with the knowledge of Tamlin’s spies watching my moves later. Could hold onto it for Azriel later - a feeling of hope so big it was painful as I thought about my friend.

Would it be better, I wondered? Better for Tamlin to think the worst? I had secrets entrusted to me now - and a mission, to look after my sisters, to treat with the Queens, to protect Prythian from Hybern. Perhaps I would have to spin a story for him to believe, or push him so far to the edge he would be done with me completely.

Azriel certainly wouldn’t let a little kidnapping get in the way of his missions. I had to plan like him, crafting games in the bright lights of the courts and in the dark shadows hiding behind him. I had to think like Mor, a Queen ruling two cities, proud and tall.

What would Rhys have me do, while I waited? Because I was - listening at every moment for the snap of his wings, or the echo of his footsteps on the marble.

Where are you where are you where are you

I took more deep breaths, imagining Amren in the chair next to me. Calm and unafraid. Show him your teeth, girl, she would say.

“I have not been a prisoner,” I said, my voice calmer than I felt. “Everything I have done has been my choice.”

Even if he would have understood, I wouldn’t explain to him - how I was learning to play different roles to achieve my goals, how I had come to trust Rhys, how I never would have been in danger with him by my side in the Hewn City.

Tamiln had never understood what it was like for me, what had really happened Under the Mountain. What I had needed to make it through. What Rhysand had done to get me to the end. And now, I was the one with secrets to keep.

His eyes were back on me, piercing and intense, the dark circles under his eyes stark.

“What have you been doing, all this time in the Night Court? Where has he kept you?” He reached out a hand, then thought better of it, flattening it on the table between us. “What has he done to you, Feyre?”

I wondered if he saw me at all. The new muscles in my body, the color in my skin, the fullness of my face. “Rhysand,” I said, a growl escaping Tamlin’s lips as I said his name, “hasn’t done anything to me. He made me an offer to join his Court, and I accepted.”

“A member of his Court?” The hint of a sneer was creeping onto his face, tempting my temper. “And what services do you provide him?”

I could feel myself getting sharp, and my skin heating from his disdain.

After all the time I had spent agonizing over him, the guilt and mourning living deeply in my chest – for him to accuse me, to think the worst of me? After I had escaped, been rescued, leaving a melted ring on the foyer floor?

Maybe I still wasn’t the well-trained Emissary I was supposed to be. I did always have a hard time watching my tongue.

“Is that what it would take?” I asked him, leaning an arm onto the table. “for you to let me go, to leave me for good? If I told you I fucked him?”

Tamlin’s body was a blur even to my fae eyes. He bolted from his chair and slid to his knees in front of me, caging me into my chair, his razor sharp talons digging deep into the arms of wood. We skidded back a few inches from the table, and I grasped at the sides on instinct, my body recoiling and locking up from his attack.

Cold, shivering terror took hold of me, anger and regret pushed somewhere far away. There would be no shield of wind this time. As he bared his fangs inches from my face, his hot breath on my cheek, I doubted even Lucien and the sentries would be enough to contain him.

“Did you?” he growled, spittle flying from his mouth in a rage.

I grasped at breaths - fear, anger, terror, disgust swirling in. But my fear won out in the face of his barely contained rage.

“No,” I breathed.

I watched as his anger leached out from him, his body reeling back from mine in a slow smooth movement. He retreated back to his chair, dropping his head into his hands.

“You’re back now, Feyre,” he said, his voice low and tired. “You’re home and we’re going to get you help. Nothing has been easy, but I will keep fighting for you.”

I hated that even in my fear and anger, my heart cracked at that.

I had always wanted him to fight for me. Just not in the way that he chose. And I had also wanted desperately for him to forget the fighting, and to just be with me. To help find a way for us to both crack the shells we put around ourselves. To heal together. To know him, and the kind of life we could have together, and to dream of it side by side instead of one in front of the other, always out of reach.

“There’s nothing I can say,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “There's nothing I can say that will convince you, is there? That I left. That I left you. That I’m not under his thrall?”

Tamlin grumbled softly, the talons slowly retracting, as if he thought better of it. “It’s not about being weak, Feyre. He’s so powerful. So few can stand against him. It’s not your fault he targeted you.”

“Rhysand…he’s not my enemy,” I said, knowing the words were useless. “I’m not in danger in the Night Court. I’m…” the word clanged through me like a bell. “I’m happy. I choose to be there, and I choose to go back, Tamlin.”

All anyone had to look at was my body to know the truth of it. With all of Tamlin’s attention on me, I wondered how he couldn’t see it. I was stronger than I had ever been. My body was a honed sword, and my powers were mine to command. If the High Lord of the Night Court was manipulating me as a weapon, he had freely given me the key to command my poweres as I chose.

He scoffed. “He kidnaps you to his Court for two months and suddenly he’s the hero of your story. How convenient.”

“He’s helped me, Tamlin. Under the Mountain, and after.” My anger rose. “I might not have even made it out of there, if it wasn’t for him. What would you have done, if I had gone insane alone in that cell? If they opened up the door one day and found me –”

“How could you ask me that? When I’ve done everything to protect you, to get you back? We were all subject to her wrath Feyre - and Rhysand’s as well. Did you not witness enough of his crimes? Did he erase that from your mind as well?”

Something was boiling in my blood – “You don’t know anything –”

“Feyre, he was her whore,” I snarled but he only shook his head, obnoxious pity growing in his eyes, “for forty-nine years, and turned on her only when the tide had finally changed, when you had done all the work of freeing us. He’s no different from her. They are the same type of creature preying on Prythian. You can see that, can’t you? They both kept us prisoners, toyed with us in their sick game. All this pain, all these schemes, they’re amusing to him. He’s bored or vindictive and he gets excitement from torturing others. All he wants is to use you, to get at me. He doesn’t care about you, Feyre. He’s not capable. I should know.” A darkness settled in his eyes.

The rise of the morbid history between them - centuries before my time, two young princes finding each other in a cruel world. I tried to picture how the wild and unrestrained Prince of Spring would befriend the elegant and deadly shadow that was Rhysand. Thought of what they may have had in common, then, the hope for Prythian I knew ran in the hearts of both of them. The cruel fathers, the frightening power. I wondered if Tamlin had ever known that other side of Rhysand, had ever seen through the mask to the dreamer I now knew lived beneath.

Because Tamlin’s words had cut through me - not because they were true, but because I knew in my heart how fully and completely they were wrong.

It was possible, maybe even quite likely, that I was a fool. That I was a weak-minded newborn fae fully under the thrall of a powerful daemati. I was a child playing games with immortal beings whose lives and political machinations spanned generations of my people.

But Rhysand wasn’t using me for revenge against Tamlin. As tempting as it was here, alone and steeped in fear, to doubt him, I knew – I knew he cared for me. He showed me in a hundred looks and smiles. Even in the arguments, in how he pushed me, wouldn’t let me fall behind or fall apart. Not even Tamlin and Lucien had given me so much time and training, had been so steadfastly by my side, had invested so much care in me.

The room faded away. I was vaguely aware of Tamlin watching me as my mind ran from me.

Every moment I had been here in the Spring Court, I had been waiting for him. Even if the bargain between us was gone, I still had cast my thoughts out to him. For Rhys, to come and take me home. My friend through many dangers. Who had saved me, fought for me. And I believed was fighting for me still.

A freefall in my mind - building our story, now that I was back in this place where it had all started. Reframing every word spoken between us and those that weren’t. There had been anger and games and mistrust between us. But all I could think of now were the nights spent on plush rugs in front of the fire in the Townhouse, lost in lessons and training and his sultry, amused voice.

At his face at Starfall, the heat of his body pressed against mine as we danced, the violet constellations that looked at me with such intensity I had to look away, burying my face against his chest.

At how I had waited for him in my bedroom after, wishing the fingers undoing the buttons on my dress were his.

Of the broken male I had witnessed, defeated on the bed, wings drooping - so crushed under the weight of his own memories my heart broke to see it.

That fractured, cunning, vicious, and sacrificing male.

Who I loved.

Maybe it showed on my face. A low growl was building in Tamlin’s chest and echoing through the room. I breathed through my revelation - the feeling of longing so strong in my chest it hurt.

Come find me.

My fingers worked on the wood of the chair. I had to stop, to think, to find a way out of this place.

Could Tamlin trap him here? Rhysand was so powerful - and had spoken before about the clumsiness of Tamlin’s wards, breaking through them easily when he came to call in the bargain. Was he counting on the threat of war? Or perhaps that Rhysand wouldn’t come for me at all?

What was he planning?

“Feyre!” A sharp, theatrical gasp came from the door. I kept my eyes on Tamlin as he looked to the doorway behind me. I was frozen - half out of fear of him, half from the chill of anger that went down my spine at the familiar voice.

Soft footsteps echoed on the marble. Slowly, Ianthe stepped forward into my line of vision, her blue eyes shining bright with tears, her slender hand covering her mouth.

A dramatic performance.

The two of them before me were enough to rekindle my rage, to awaken me again from my fear and memories. I could see it in my mind - Ianthe’s hand moving towards Rhys’s body, the sick feeling of violation. And Tamlin…Rhys’s face on the steppes…two faces, twisted in pain, floating down a river in baskets.

But all this anger and fear was getting me nowhere.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I said, my eyes finally moving to Ianthe’s face. Trying to smooth some sadness into my voice.

“Bless the Mother who brought you here, back where you belong.” She moved a hand to rest on me, but thought better of it, seeing something in my face. “Back where we can watch over you. We won’t let this happen again, Feyre.”

I willed myself to breathe again. Just one breath. Then another. Deep into my lungs.

My power was still an empty well within me. A friend that I missed. Another part of me taken by this place.

Another breath and I forced my muscles to relax. Willed the fear and pain to leave me. And I called to that power, skittish, buried so deep I couldn’t sense where it might hide…but there nonetheless. I gently whispered to it, willing it to just step forward. It had to be there, it had no escape from me, it was a part of me like my blood, like my tendons and bones.

Cursebreaker. Spellbreaker. A bright shining light slicing through wards and unbinding chains. My eyes closed as the dining room fell away and I fell deep within myself.

A flash inside - that warm, piercing light singing a single note in my chest –

But then there was only pain, bone-deep, hot and cold at once around my wrists as bands of blue stone were snapped around them, bound together by a chain.

I had hardly gasped, grasped what was happening, when my ankles were chained as well.

Chills broke over me, the icy burning on my skin sharp and fierce, making my hands shake. It rocked over my skin in waves - freezing and then a roaring flame, my body feeling sick and weak.

“Ianthe…” Tamlin said, a gentle warning.

“Her powers were coming back. Couldn’t you feel it? And who knows what he’s trained her to do, implanted in her mind. He could have her waiting to kill you at the first chance, and she wouldn’t even remember the order.”

Tamlin’s eyes were wide.

“I’m so sorry, Feyre,” she said with a hitch in her voice, just appropriate enough to seem genuinely chagrined. “But this is for everyone’s good. We have to protect you, and everyone under this roof. The High Lord serves all his subjects.”

Nausea threatened to overwhelm me as my body fought to adjust to the pain. I was trapped again, in the foyer, in the dungeon cell, the deep well of despair and nothingness threatening to come over me again…

I fought for breath, for my thoughts. “Tamlin. You think that you want me. But you must not know me at all. To think that I would ever forget this. To think that you could steal me and chain me like this and ever win my heart again.”

Finally, a creep of doubt seemed to ease into his eyes. I begged my hands to be still, my voice to be clear. Gripped at the anger burning like hot embers inside my chest and let it burn.

“And even after all these centuries, you truly don’t know Rhysand either, if you think he isn’t going to rip this Court to pieces for what you’ve done.”

[tayatraer]

A child of war, a fallen leader of the nation and a mysterious check-taker. What they gonna do?

(Click for better quality!)

Also version without text cus i still liked it

[drrav3nb]

THE BEAR | GOLDEN GLOBE WINNERS (and soon to be a Michelin 5* Restaurant)

[donnatroyyyy]

Dick genuinely doesn’t have a favorite sibling, he’s like the parent that says “I love all my children equally” and you believe it, he actually loves them all equally. He’s been trying to convince them that for the last few years, they don’t believe him, so he does what he has to, he says it’s Steph and let’s her deal with it.

[maydaydiaz]

complain about his boss to…his racist, sexist, homophobic boyfriend??? yeah i’m sure he’s real sympathetic

[that--unusual-person]

ATTENTION

(Spread word as much as possible)

After a recent fallout with a close friend, I am writing this post with full evidence + screenshots that the user, Grim or Grimoire, had committed some careless and irresponsible acts over ROBLOX and Discord with a minor. Many communities she’s known in is FNAF, Creatures of Sonaria, and Harp Isles. She has a high reputation in them all and exploits her power to prove her false innocence. She is very active on either and is continuing to engage in minor populated spaces/servers.

From being close to her and word from her former long-time friends, it is rumored she is bipolar, narcissistic, greedy, and lacks awareness and consequence to her actions/words. We advise you or anyone you know to stay away from this person regardless of what she says or does. If she is seen in a server, report her and block her, avoid communication as much as possible.

This linked document contains information regarding her actions, who she is, and what she has done in the past month of June 2024.

DOCUMENT IS HERE (WARNING! INCLUDES: grooming, mentions of RP rape, pedophilia)

CALLOUT on GRIM

[falling-star-cygnus]

"The great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends. Sorry to disappoint that is not where this ends."

all im hearing is that the hotel goers are his friends and no, i will not accept criticism, thank you for your time

[weneedatdcharacterwho]

we need a human who brought on their dog as another contestant. the team inevitably votes out the dog (cause c'mon, it's a dog). the owner loses their shit and does everything they can to make merge to take their team down.

.

[allpromarlo]

i don’t think a character has ever polarized me as much as geto has. i will hate on that mfer without a lick of shame but let me see ONE fanart of him and

[skrunksthatwunk]

ok soooo im like 5 episodes into dear brother and i need you guys to know how much i love rei so far if only for her staggering around like a rain-soaked stray dog just haggard and unseeing all the time. like we know very little about her thus far except that every scene she's in she steals the show by flopping and wilting all over the frame

[kitmarlowe]

i know i giffed it but the music really elevates it

[spark-circuit]

me at my bookstore job to the 27th young adult straight edgy fantasy romance to come in this month

[mengyan]

when it comes to people who acknowledge and love all sides of jiang xuening, shen zhiyi cannot be forgotten.

yes, dianxia does have a bit of a lovesick filter on when it comes to her beloved ningning, but she also knows who jiang xuening is as a person. she isn’t so blind as to casually miss her fierce temper, ignore her schemes and manipulation, and disregard her poor choices— you can see it in shen zhiyi’s expressions and tone, the concerns she voices, and particularly through her perspective in the novel— but these things could never make her love jiang xuening any less.

shen zhiyi isn’t oblivious. she knows that jiang xuening uses her at times to get what she wants, but what’s important is that she doesn’t care. she never has and she never will, because everything she does is her choice. she only wants jiang xuening to know that she doesn’t have to do anything at all to get her support, because she will always be there by her side, without any conditions attached.

there is no doubt that jiang xuening is the person she trusts most in the world. even if jiang xuening makes a decision she doesn’t particularly agree with, she will still never raise any complaint to her. shen zhiyi trusts that jiang xuening’s judgment and choices are right for herself, even if they’re not right to her, and it’s as simple as that. if there are any consequences, she will be there to resolve them. jiang xuening couldn’t lose her if she tried.

shen zhiyi and xie wei are the only two characters in kunning who see past all of jiang xuening’s sides, good and bad, and still recognize her true heart. the way they love her is different but also the same; if shen zhiyi is her shield, then xie wei is her sword.

and jiang xuening chooses them both.

[objectum-culture-is]

are y'all anti endo systems?

Our personal feelings on system drama doesn't need to make its way here to this blog ^^

Thank you for understanding and keeping that away from here. This is an objectum blog where systems are welcome.

[separatist-apologist]

There are a lot of people on the internet who come specifically to rage bait simply because their own lives are pathetic, empty, and boring and this is a way they've learned to get attention. And the sooner a lot of you all realize that, the sooner you'll be able to have a measure of actual fun in this fandom.

[thefanciestborrower]

.