#but nothing unlike rhysie

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember Me? (Part 8)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I promise feyfey is going to leave rhysie. i promise. she just needs a lil bit of time to think things through.

also, im thinking of making the next chapter feyre's pov, and that is why this part was short 😅

Anyways, dont kill me please, and enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n watched as Feyre trembled, her hands wrapped around the small paper cup, the melting ice cream now all but a milkshake.

She seemed to be deep in thought, and her trembling increased. Y/n hoped it was a tremble of rage and not despair.

It was just Feyre and Y/n at the table, Eris having taken the two little boys with him to another table so they could have, as they called it, boys time.

Just the thought threatened to make Y/n smile.

But she suppressed it, as it really was not a good time to laugh. Because her friend next to her was quite literally having a mental breakdown.

But still, she decided to peek at where the three males were sitting near the back of the shop while waiting for Feyre to collect her thoughts, and it became harder to suppress that smile.

There, she found the two little boys gesturing wildly with their hands, their faces covered with the ice cream, and Eris laughed, a quiet joy in his face. He reached out to wipe a little bit of ice cream from Nyx's face, nodding to something the younger boy said.

Then, as if feeling her gaze on him, he looked up.

The world ceased to exist around Y/n as she met his eyes. The sounds or people around her didn't matter, for some reason.

Eris was as still as the wall behind him, and he barely seemed to breathe.

But then Y/n felt a touch on her hand, and she jolted, looking away from Eris as the outside world came back into focus.

Her cheeks burned as she met the watery eyes of Feyre.

"Are you listening?" Feyre sniffed.

Y/n's eyes widened. "Oh. I am so sorry. I zoned out. Can you repeat what you said?"

She sniffed again. "I- I don't know if I can leave him..."

Y/n stiffened. "Why not?"

Feyre's eyes floated towards the back, where Nyx was sat with Fin and Eris. "He... he needs his father."

"He needs no one other than you Feyre. You are his mother."

She nodded slightly, her eyes not once straying from her son. "I know... but he knows who his father is, unlike Fin. He will question me about why we are leaving his papa. I don't think I'll be able to leave Rhys. He is the one that pays me, and despite having my own money... I'm not sure I can use my money outside of night court. Where will I go?"

Y/n's heart clenched at the sheer pain etched across the high lady of night court. "Feyre... you can come with us." Y/n offered. "Fin and I will obviously live all alone. You can live with us."

Feyre shook her head ruefully. "I can't leave him Y/n, especially not on such a short notice."

Y/n heaved a frustrated breath. "Feyre. Think about Nyx. If Rhysand was ready to throw you and Nyx away for an unclear future with a son he barely knew, them I'm really concerned for Nyx. You never know when Rhys decided he's done with you and kicks you out. His mental state is not the best at the moment."

A tear slipped out of Feyre's eyes, and she dropped her head into her hands. "I don't know what to do." She said, her voice muffled.

Y/n felt like she had somehow caused Feyre this pain, and she felt the need to take away that pain. And so she relented, stopped pestering Feyre to leave Rhys.

"Look Feyre, you are Nyx's mother. You know what's best for him. If you need time, then take some time. Think about this if you want. But leave him Feyre. He does not deserve you or Nyx. Also, if you're worried about funds..."

Y/n could not offer to take up the high lady's expenses, because it was hard enough earning and spending for her own son. She didn't have the resources to help another person. But she also could not leave her friend and, essentially, her son's brother, here.

"If you are worried about the funds, then I am sure we can figure something out. We can take up jobs, or maybe we can sell your paintings."

Feyre met Y/n's eyes, tears shining in them.

"I need time." She stated simply. She sniffed once, pulling out a piece of cloth from her bag and wiping her face on it as she stood. Y/n watched Feyre helplessly, knowing she didn't have much time because the sun was beginning to set and Eris had to get out of night court soon.

Y/n stood as well, her hand snapping out to catch Feyre's.

"I can't force you to come with us but... I beg you Feyre. Think about this. And when you are ready, write to me. I will ask Eris to make arrangements for your safe travel to autumn court."

Feyre just nodded, blinking away a fresh wave of tears as she brought Y/n into a quick hug, then walked away, calling out to Nyx. The little boy turned to his mom with a small pout on his face, but then whatever he saw on her face had him bidding Fin and Eris goodbye.

He waddled over to his mother, waving to Y/n as he reached up to clutch Feyre's hand in his tinier one.

Y/n watched the two of them go, despair brewing in her stomach.

"It's time."

She glanced at Eris, who smiled sadly at her.

Y/n nodded, turnng back to catch a glimpse of her fried and her son.

But they were gone.

•○🌑○•

Part 9

Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392

[nikethestatue]

Hi! What do you think the fallout will be between Elain and Rhys when she finds out about him ordering Az away and interrupting them at solstice in the BC?

I think she should do exactly the opposite of what Nesta did. Instead of raging and ranting--which isn't Elain anyway--she would gaslight the shit out of Rhysie.

Aka, she should 'dust off her powers' whatever they are and show them to him in some spectacular display.

And then....pull back.

And that's it.

Unlike Nesta, don't do anything. No scrying, no Seeing, no resurrecting, no nothing.

In fact, I would like for her to say 'oh, well, you wanted me to be with Lucien, so I am sure we can utilize my powers for his benefit.' And let Rhys think that all that Cauldron-given powers will go to Lucien and eventually to Day (because Rhys knows about daddy Helion).

Nesta cracked pretty quickly. Elain should be the opposite--she should demonstrate to Rhys what the loss of her would do to him POLITICALLY, because that was the reason he stopped Azriel. It was politically inconvenient. Now, let's see what that looks like from the other side.

I don't think Elain is going to be super dramatic with throwing place at Rhys's head or whatever. I think she is more discreet than that. But no less deadly.

And then, of course, at some point, when Rhys and Feyre are trying to reason with her, she should announce that she's been seeing Azriel for months now.

[rlyc00l]

Decepti0n, Chapter 3 on Fanfiction.net

(For some reason tumblr won't let me link to fanfiction.net the normal way anymore? WELP)

Zer0's an ass, Rhys's entire life is ruined forever, Rhys maybe has a virus, Rhys almost dies again—but hey, he does do one kind of cool thing.

EDIT: Chapter is also under the break :)

———— “Look, I appreciate the extra sleep,” Maya said. Her hair was tousled, she combed it out as she spoke. “But we agreed you’d take first watch and then wake me up.”  

“I didn’t need to.” Zer0 had their storage deck holoscreen up. They scrolled through their guns rather than face Maya. Rhys couldn’t help but notice they had two pistols besides the one they’d stolen from him. “I kept watch throughout the night. / And nothing attacked.” 

“That’s beside the point. We need everyone rested. If Jack figured out that we survived, he might send another ambush–” 

“I require less sleep.” They closed the holoscreen. Unlike the others, they had no camp to pack up, and they’d declined breakfast. The fact they hadn’t gone on alone put their air of self-assurance in question, at least in Rhys’s eyes. “And I am more observant / Than the rest of you.” 

The measured smile on Maya’s face fell. “You understand why I can’t take your word for that?”  “Yeah, I like to think I’m pretty damn observant,” Axton put in as he rolled up his bedroll. “Though, I don’t mind sleeping through the night, thanks, Zer0.” 

“The point is, if we’re going to work as a team, we need to communicate better,” she said.   “I’m not on your team. / We’re traveling the same way. / For the time being.” 

“If that’s the case, why stick around?” 

“Because I need that,” They pointed to the Claptrap, “If I want off this glacier. / Or so I’ve been told.” 

“Then work with us! We have the same goal.” A light went through her tattoos. Rhys was getting the sense that this wasn’t the first time they’d butted heads. He hadn’t paid much mind to the other bandit’s interactions, having assumed they were all in this together from the start. 

“You wanted guarding. / I guarded. What’s the problem? / You are still alive.” 

Whatever Maya was about to say was drowned out by her ECHO device. 

“Hey, kiddos.” The voice was unmistakable. Rhys straightened up on instinct. “Jack here–President of Hyperion. Lemme explain how things work here: Vault Hunters show up. Vault Hunters look for the new Vault. Vault Hunters get killed. By me. You seeing the problem here? You’re still alive. So, if you—hold on, wait, wait wait wait, do you seriously have one of my employees with you? How the hell’d he get down there?” 

And that was it. Rhys was completely, one hundred percent, ruined. He’d be branded a traitor, he could never return to Helios, and if Pandora didn’t kill him, Handsome Jack would.

“Well, okay. Rhys Strongfork. From Security Propaganda? That’s weird.” Jack laughed. “Rogue employee going Vault hunter? That’s a new one. Let me know how it turns out. Anyway, I was gonna just tell you all to kill yourselves but, Rhysie? I really wanna see what happens to a traitorous little code monkey on Pandora.” The comm ended with a click. 

The others were all looking at him. He tried to put on a brave face, cracking a smile. “So uh, we’re definitely killing that guy, yeah?” 

Dunno if it’s a ‘we’, Strongfork.” Axton clapped Rhys on the back. “But hey, I’ll give you front-row seats to my badass Jack kill.” 

Rhys shot him a glare, even as he tried to work out a way to convince Jack he was only a prisoner. Would Jack accept that lie, even if he believed it? The man wasn’t known for tolerating failure. 

“He’ll die by my blade,” Zer0 said simply. An “uwu” projected from their visor. 

“No! I will crack the fingers in my teeth!” Krieg twitched as he yelled, smacking the side of his head a few times. 

“If any of us are going to kill Jack, we need to get off this glacier first,” Maya said before anyone else could make their claim. “I suggest we get moving.” 

She’d apparently taken up leadership of the group, and the others accepted that, aside from Zer0. With a few final preparations, they were on the road again. 

It was still freezing, of course, and Rhys was more sore than he’d ever been in his life, but the walking had become easier. They’d moved past the deeper, loose snow. Now Rhys’s feet only went two inches through the icy crust. And the sun was out. None of that made Rhys any happier about his current situation, but at least it wasn’t worse. 

He tried to ignore the sound of Gaige taking long strides to catch up with him as he walked. Maybe if he didn’t look at her, she wouldn’t try to talk to him. She could not possibly have anything good to say. 

His efforts failed. “So, Jack didn’t set you up to be killed, huh?” 

“What?” 

“Before you were all ‘Jack tried to blow me up! I was subtly undermining Jack! He didn’t want to martyr me!’” She did a voice that must have meant to be Rhys’s, but did not remotely sound like him. “But obviously, Jack didn’t know you were here until, like, literally just now. So?”

Was he being interrogated? “You hear the part where he called me a ‘traitorous code monkey’?”

“Yeah, but like, did you actually do anything cool? Try to smash the system?” 

“I did what I said I did,” Rhys snapped. It was suddenly very important to him that this teenager thought he was cool and not a liar. “Maybe Jack–Maybe he didn’t personally set that up for me, but someone up there wanted me dead for it. There–there’s an entire organizational hierarchy up there, Jack doesn’t handle everything himself.” “Fine, geez. I was just wondering…”

“Well, I’m glad to appease your curiosity, or whatever.” He noticed her eyeing his right arm. “Can I help you with anything else?” “Nope. I’m good.” Gaige said, looking down at her own cybernetic arm like she was comparing the two. It was a good thing hers was on the left, he would not put it past bandits to steal a man’s arm. Of course, maybe he was still in some danger from her. She had to be unstable, to end up here. 

He was about to ask her to stop staring at him like a piece of machinery when a sharp pain struck him. His ECHOeye port seemed to explode into little needles as his vision blurred and flickered. He let out a cry. A dark-haired, pale young woman appeared in front of him, just for an instant, and he fell. Distantly, he heard Salvador’s “I think Hyperion guy died.” before things went dark.  

The next thing Rhys was aware of was snow moving rhythmically below him as he passed over it. Someone’s hand grasped his forearm, another on the back of his thigh. He was being carried, he realized. Groaning, he lifted his head. He made brief eye contact with Salvador, who laughed, shaking his head. “Hey, Axton, the princess is up.” 

“Wha…?” Rhys blinked, rubbing his head. The pain from before had turned into a soft ache. “Let…Let me down…” 

“You gonna pass out again?” Axton asked. 

“No? I don’t think so?” 

Axton slid him off his shoulders and onto the ground. He felt dizzy, but got his bearings after a few stumbled steps. 

“What happened?” He asked. For a second time, he was being stared at. He caught Zer0, once again far from the others, watching him with a “LOL” projected from their helm.

“You went all twitchy and blinky and then fainted.” It was Gaige who answered. 

“Real elegant pose too, ass straight up in the air.” Axton grinned. 

“Great to know, thanks.” At least they hadn’t left him behind. They weren’t complete savages. 

He brought his hand up to his ECHOport, half expecting it to be bleeding or loose. Nothing out of place. Both eyes were functioning. His right arm moved as well as the left. He seemed okay, aside from the residual soreness from yesterday’s bullymong attack. 

Surreptitiously, he felt for his wallet. It was still in his front pocket, only thinner than it had been. Yep, that’s about what he’d expect. Fair enough. Only later, once they started moving again, did he get some real concern, from Maya. “Is something broken? I’m…Inexperienced with cybernetics, but I imagine they were the cause. Your eye was blinking.”

“I must have hit my head harder than I realized, knocked a part loose? It…It should be fine.” He had no idea if that was true, but you weren’t supposed to show weakness around these types, a rule he’d already broken too many times. Maya might seem reasonable, but there had to be a good reason Jack wanted her dead. “I can fix it, once we get somewhere with a mirror and some tools.” He didn’t relish the thought of poking around in his own head. Maybe it was one of those one-off things, some sort of glitch that he wouldn’t run into again. Maybe he could ignore it. 

“Gaige seems to be an experienced mechanic. You could ask her for help.” 

Rhys just looked at her. 

She shrugged. “Understandable. Still, try not to faint again, if possible. Claptrap’s claiming that Knuckle Dragger’s lair isn’t much further. Supposedly, he leads a sizable pack.”

————

They came to the lair nearly an hour later. It was up on a short ridge. The only way up was through a misaimed moonshot shipping container, both ends opened. 

Rhys let the Claptrap and Vault hunters go ahead of him. He knew he’d be useless in this fight, or worse, an outright burden. Better to stand around down here until the shooting ended. 

The Claptrap started screaming immediately, and the first shots were fired. He heard roaring, more cries from the Claptrap, something large slamming into the earth. Strangely, this was starting to feel routine. 

He leaned back against the side of the container and activated his arm’s holographic interface. Should he take this chance to shoot a message to Vaughn and Yvette, let them know he wasn’t dead, or would communicating with them implicate them as traitors? Best not to risk it. There were rumors of Jack airlocking an entire R&D team when he suspected one of betraying him. 

Still, it was strange, even if they’d thought Rhys had died down here, wouldn’t they at least think to ECHO him? Unless something had happened… Vasquez wouldn’t try to off them, too, would he? His throat got tight, thinking about it. 

Something landed on the shipping container above him with a heavy clunk. He looked up to find a bullymong staring back down at him. It was four times the size of the others he’d seen. Fresh bullet wounds covered its pelt. It wore a glowing blue sphere around its neck.

Nearby, he could still hear shooting. 

Slowly, he turned to face it. Just stay calm. Back away. Don’t do anything to upset it. It’ll be more interested in the people who shot it. He grabbed the stun rod, not taking his eyes off of it. 

It was staring at the glow of the hand interface. He deactivated it. Wrong move, the bullymong—Knuckle Dragger, he realized—roared and leapt at him. Scampering to the side, he jabbed out at it, just like last time. Unlike last time, this one swiped the rod out of his grasp, sending it flying.

Rhys turned and ran. 

Knuckle Dragger followed.

He sprinted in a wide circle, bullymong close behind. There was no way he’d outrun it for long. His only chance was the shipping container. Knuckle Dragger was too large to fit through the opening. 

With every stride he was sure he’d be caught, up until he finally leapt into the container. He slipped on the icy metal, fell forward, and felt himself being pulled back out. The bullymong had his shoe. Yelping, Rhys wriggled his foot free. He dragged himself out of reach, into the open on the other side.  

Chaos lay before him. He couldn’t begin to count the bullymong, alive or dead. A sharp-clawed robot—Gaige’s, he realized—raked open one’s chest a few feet in front of him. Somewhere, Salvador was yelling incomprehensibly. Axton was reloading his gun, covered by a turret next to him. He thought he saw Krieg dash past as he got to his feet.  “Help?!” he heard himself cry, to no response. The crate behind him echoed as the bullymong climbed over it. Rhys did the only thing he could think to do: he darted straight through the battlefield, hoping Knuckle Dragger would turn its attention to someone else. 

It didn’t. And once again it was closing in. He came to a sheer ice wall with the thing bearing down on him. To his left was a large pile of remains: an assortment of bone, cloth, and metal. He grabbed at a piece of metal in desperation, pulling it free. It was the twisted remains of a Jakobs rifle. A crude blade was affixed to one end. 

He dodged a blow from the bullymong’s massive fist–and blindly thrust upward with all of his strength. 

The bayonet passed between the detached lower mandibles and stuck fast in the roof of its mouth. Knuckle Dragger pulled away with a choked cry, yanking the makeshift spear out of Rhys’s grasp. Blood flowed down the blade, spattering the ice beneath it. Enraged, it reared up, fists balled. 

Rhys shielded himself against a blow that never came. 

Instead, there was a pitiful groan. Knuckle Dragger stumbled, swayed a little, and fell forward, narrowly missing Rhys. 

 Perched on its back was Zer0, their sword buried between its shoulder blades. They freed their blade, hopped off, and yanked the makeshift Claptrap eye necklace from Knuckle Dragger’s neck. 

“I…Erm…I…” Rhys stammered out, his heart still pounding in his chest. 

They glanced at him, drew a pistol from their digi-holster, and tossed it to him. He fumbled as he caught it. Zer0 was gone again by the time he recognized the gun.  

[taylors-fourth-cat-meow]

I know that some people are taking calling out SJM's portrayal of Tamlin as excusing his abuse, but I don't believe that's any of our intentions. Rather than that, I feel as if we are just pointing out how sometimes the narrative twists some of his rather harmless actions and makes them out to be the worst of all. For example, when Feyre kept mentioning how she felt degraded by him for not being assigned a title that didn't even exist (and that she had no credentials for) - this was pushed so hard that almost every post when acomaf came out talked about it instead of how Tamlin physically hurt her. I remember so many Feysand stans claiming that they mostly disliked him for that reason, which in handsight makes sense because if they criticized him for being too controlling at times, they'd be forced to call out Rhysand's whole character.

Hi anon!!

I absolutely agree.

Tamlin's actions and abuse is always explained never justified unlike rhysie's.

They can't call Tamlin out on his actual abusive qualities without acknowledging rhysie's actions as abuse because they are one and the same thing. Hence they pull at the most trivial things just to villainize Tamlin while also saying rhysie is the best god damn feminist in this world.

It's actually so confusing

Rhysie is a feminist because he let feyre train (by putting her in danger again and again) and gave her the title of high lady (which doesn't even make sense because feyre is not considered rhysies equal in anyway, acosf was just further proof).

Tamlin is a misogynist because feyre assumed he wanted her to wear dresses and that wearing pants wud make a statement (for the last time bitch what statement?!?!?!) because wearing dresses is a sign of weak females who don't have any freedom or autonomy, explained to feyre why she won't be called a high lady when she said she didn't want to be called that, thought a ruthless, powerful, tyrant who sent heads in his front yard as a joke, kidnapped his fiancee, who funnily enough he SA for three months and did everything in his power to get her back.

In my opinion Tamlin's only mistakes which are all retcons btw (excluding some things because they totally go against things actually written in the previous books) were:

Continuing to keep company with Ianthee

Not letting feyre train and making decisions for her powers and body for his peace of mind (which sound familiar?? To a certain purple eyed bat's actions in a certain 700 page book??)

Locking feyre in the manor (also sound familiar to what a supposedly noble high lord and lady did to her own sister??)

Slut shaming her at the High Lords metting (which sound familiar to a certain infamous "intervention")

Tamlin not 'saving her from her darkness that was consuming her' doesn't count because Tamlin himself was mentally unstable and suffering from PTSD. if you have a broken leg you can't support another person with a broken leg srry.

Calamnai scene from book 1?? No one except sjm is to blame for that nonsense.. but if you put it irl, tamlin is drunk out of his mind with no sense of reality and feyre, knowing this, completely sober, willing goes near him and doesn't stop him when he tries to kiss her even when he made it perfectly clear that he doesn't want anything to happen between them?? But Put all that in the acotar world it's no one's fault accept sjm.

His magical outburst, I have explained this before and @/worldsnotsaid also wrote a gr8 explanation about it but that ... Wasn't exactly abuse... He doesn't do it with the intention of hurting feyre and gain control or power over her. His power isn't even directed at her. He almost hurts her and he is responsible for it but that can't be labelled abuse. I get how this can be a little questionable for some ppl but no I don't think tamlin physically abused feyre. Try to reverse the scenario, tamlin locks feyre into the manor, it brings up her trauma and she looses control of her magic and hurts all the ppl in that manor. Is it still abuse?? Tamlin abused her 100% and he also abused his sentries but the study scene isn't that.

I feel pity for the ppl who try to point out abusive qualities in Tamlin in book 1 thinking their fav author is so smart and put subtle signs only ture fans can understand. And not accept the fact that SJM got bored with tamlin and suddenly realised she gets hard for rhysie

In comparison to all that rhysie has:

SA feyre for THREE MONTHS

Twisted her bone

Made a bargain for his gain under duress

Licked her without permission

Kissed her without permission

Mind r*pped her

Read her personal thoughts and said it out loud for ppl to hear (which I don't get how it is any different from Tamlins actions in the HL meeting)

Gaslighted her while she was with Tamlin

Actually made her wear clothes she hated

Put her life in jeopardy repeatedly for his gain

Touched her inappropriately in front of ppl again with the pretense of it being a "mask"

Held crucial information about her body from her

Stripped her from the right to consider abortion by not telling the risks of pregnancy

Asked everyone in her family to not tell her either

Put a sheild around her to isolate her even from her family members

Removed the shield around enemies to have them scent her baby rich scent

Paraded her around like a trophy

Climaxed to the picture of his unborn child (not really relevant to what he did to feyre but still disgusting)

You tell me which is worst?

[nessiesspeakeasy]

Kinktober Day 10: Symbiosis Part 2

It was Rhys and he looked just as beaten up as Jack did. He hugged himself, not making eye contact. As he started to speak, Jack yanked him into his penthouse and locked the door. He pulled Rhys to the bedroom and threw the covers back.

“Get in.”

-----

It’s been two agonizing weeks and Rhys has finally returned to Jack.

You can also read this on my AO3!!!

It had been two weeks since that meeting. Since Jack had met his soul mate and had accidentally bonded with him. He hadn’t found Rhys since and had stopped searching after the first day. If Rhys didn’t want to be found, Jack would let him be. He wanted Rhys to be willing in their relationship and not feel like a prisoner.

It absolutely sucked, though. Jack could not sleep for more than an hour at a time and, while focusing on his work was a success some of the time, his mind still easily went back to Rhys and where he was. It made Jack restless and agitated. He snapped more at people and was quicker to punch them. It had reached a point that he had begun spending all his days in his home, barring himself off from pressure points.

He swore as he rolled and tossed in bed, his body aching and sore, like he needed to stretch, but no matter how much he did so, it would always ache. He tore himself from the bed and resigned himself to the treadmill, working off the anxious energy he had. All his body wanted him to seek out Rhys and drag him back here. He slammed his thumb against the speed button and began to run. He would not do that to Rhys. No matter the costs.

Two hours into his run, there was a knock on the door. Huffing and sweaty, Jack slowed the treadmill and stepped off, unsure he had really heard anything. When he heard it again, the knocks short and quick, he made his way to the front door.

It was Rhys and he looked just as beaten up as Jack did. He hugged himself, not making eye contact. As he started to speak, Jack yanked him into his penthouse and locked the door. He pulled Rhys to the bedroom and threw the covers back.

“Get in.”

He went to his bathroom and rinsed all the sweat off, changing into fresh pajamas. When he got out, Rhys was still standing there, unsure and weary. Jack climbed into the bed and yanked Rhys after him, making him stumble and crawl on the bed. He glared, but said nothing. Jack pulled him against his body, not caring that Rhys was fully dressed. He held him close and dug his face into the man’s back.

“I’m not-”

“Shut up. Go to sleep,” Jack snapped.

It was the best sleep Jack had ever had and when he woke up, it was like nothing had ever happened. Like his body hadn’t been slowly deteriorating for weeks. It was almost noon when his eyes opened, body still curled around Rhys.

Sliding from the bed quietly, Jack went to the kitchen to start the coffee. He wouldn’t be surprised if Rhys slept until tomorrow. He’d been through hell, but it would have been doubled for Rhys who had actively refused to listen to what his body begged him to do.

After refreshing himself, getting coffee and making food, he brought it into the bedroom, along with an ECHO pad where he could do some work and stay close to Rhys.

It was well into the day when Rhys stirred for the first time, his lids opening slightly as he turned and faced Jack. He snuggled close to the man, wrapping his arm around Jack’s waist and falling asleep again.

Jack tried not to smirk at the movement and tried not to let his pride swell too large. But as Rhys settled his head onto Jack, his grin widened stupidly. He was a weak man when it came to Rhys.

The time that Rhys slept gave Jack time to think about what was going to happen now and it helped him form a plan that he could give Rhys. So, when Rhys woke up and groggily padded out into the kitchen, Jack was prepared.

He served Rhys food and grinned when he wolfed it down. He drained his glass of orange juice and sipped at his coffee. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Jack sat next to him, second coffee in hand. “Of course.”

There was silence before Rhys began to speak.

Jack raised his hand. “If I may, cupcake, I’ve had time to think about this with a clear mind while you slept. I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped here with me, but to some extent you are. I’m proposing we become roommates. You live here, no romance necessary at all, and we’ll get our daily contact that will keep us sane. We can try having different rooms, but I’m betting that that will slowly grind at us.”

Rhys was silent as he thought about it. He sipped his coffee and finally nodded. “Yeah, I could do that.”

-----

It worked beautifully. They could function normally once more, and Rhys no longer glared at him with hurt and anger. It took Rhys a month to get used to being around Jack and needing to share a bed with him. He was quiet, not offering conversation unless it was about their arrangement.

Then, one morning, Jack woke to light, pop music and found Rhys making breakfast for the two of them. He flushed. “You always make breakfast…”

Jack nodded, keeping his smile to a minimum. He didn’t want to scare Rhys out of this precious moment. “Thanks, it smells incredible.” He made coffee and sat at the table.

Rhys turned the music off.

“You can listen to it if you want, this is your home too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He turned it back on, keeping the volume low, though.

It was these moments that slowly became regular. Rhys became more and more relaxed in his new home and even sat with Jack on the couch to watch T.V. with him.

He handed Rhys the remote. “You pick the next one.”

Rhys jumped and then smiled. “Okay…”

They watched what he wanted for the rest of the night, Rhys curled on the opposite side of Jack.

It was even different when Rhys glared at him now. He huffed. “Jack, you can’t do that. The spinner was not off.”

“It completely was!” Jack argued back, pointing to the white plastic thing balancing in its home in the Life board game.

“You’re only saying that cause you just realized I’m winning.”

Jack grunted. “Am not, this spinner is faulty.”

“Then you can buy a new one and we’ll play again and I’ll still kick your ass.”

Growling, Jack ripped the spinner from its spot and stormed off. “Can’t be a game if there’s so spinner!” He yelled.

Rhys was so taken aback, he laughed. “Are you serious!?”

Jack held it over the trash can. “I’m dead serious! I will do it! I’m not afraid!” His frown was slipping, though. It was hard to stay angry when Rhys was smiling.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it!”

Challenge accepted, Jack let if fall into the trash.

Rhys laughed and stood. “We don’t need the spinner anyway. I have many ten-sided dice we can use.”

Jack frowned. “What!?” He followed Rhys to his spare room, to the table in the middle where he and his friends sat weekly. He pulled up a large pouch and reached in. He pulled out many different dice and dropped one in Jack’s hand.

Rhys smiled proudly at Jack.

Jack looked at it and all ten sides. He frowned.

Rhys poured the bag out on the table. “You can pick your own.”

Jack scrutinized the dice before picking up a gold one. Rhys nodded and picked up his own as well. They put all the dice back and continued their game, rolling the dice in the empty valley the spinner used to be in.

Rhys still won.

-----

It was several months later when Rhys knocked on Jack’s office door. He had a tray of take out portioned on a plate. He smiled as he set the food next to Jack’s desk. “Since is looks like a late night for you…”

“Thanks, Rhysie,” Jack said, still looking over paperwork.

Rhys bent down and kissed his head. “Mhmm,” Rhys hummed. They both stopped as Rhys froze, his eyes wide. “Did I just-”

Jack nodded, lips widening in a grin.

“I… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to it just-” He took a step back. “I’ll leave now.”

But Jack reached forward and took his hand. “You know, it’s okay if you’re starting to fall in love with me…” He gave a light kiss to Rhys’ hand. “Cause I could easily fall in love with you.”

Rhys gasped, eyes fluttering shut as Jack kissed his hand. His touch electrified his body, unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Jack let Rhys’ hand fall from his grasp. Rhys stared at him, unsure of what to do and what everything meant. He gave an awkward smile and left.

Jack sighed, but he smiled. That had definitely been progress. That had been the first time he’d flirted with Rhys and it had been so natural, Jack had forgotten to check himself and Rhys first. It had felt right though and he wouldn’t apologize for it. He’d have to be careful not to do it again until he got confirmation from Rhys that he was open to it.

They did not talk for the rest of the night. When he heard Rhys walk past, he knew the Iotican was heading for bed. He wished he could join him, but he needed to get ahead of this paperwork, which meant it would be a late night for him. He drank his coffee and plunged back into work.

Until a sudden heat and electricity coursed through the back of his mind. He frowned and continued to work. The burning slid down his body to his core, exciting him. He sighed and sat back in his chair, trying to figure out what had turned him on so suddenly. The moment he began to think on it, something clicked in his mind and it filled with Rhys. Rhys had been about to masturbate.

He felt the alien gasp. Regret and humiliation raked through him. Jack! Oh shit! I don’t understand, how are we doing this? Rhys’ mind echoed in his mind.

Jack smirked, though. Dunno, but hey, don’t let me stop you.

He felt Rhys flush. But you’ll be here…

And I’ll be able to feel it.

There was a long pause as Jack felt the turmoil Rhys went through. An idea popped into Jack’s mind and Rhys heard it instantly. He could feel the excited flush from Rhys.

I… I wouldn’t mind that…

It made Jack smile wide and he nodded, leaning back in his chair. He undid himself and began to stroke his cock. He felt Rhys sigh as he experienced the same pleasure Jack had. Rhys touched himself again, sweeping the two of them into a spiral, lost in each other’s minds. Jack was slow, letting it churn inside Rhys and begin to build.

He gasped, fears at being trapped to a relationship he did not want slid away, his mind opening fully to Jack. It swelled Jack’s heart and he moaned, hips rolling into his hand.

Rhys let his head fall back and let himself pretend it was Jack’s hand around his dick. It made Rhys shudder and moan louder. Jack hissed and began to stroke himself like how he would if he had been touching Rhys.

It built between them, each pushing the other higher and higher, their movements in sync, bringing themselves to a hard orgasm. Rhys let out a long shout, hips rocking as he came, body tingling. Jack had been so completely lost in Rhys, he had no idea he had orgasmed as well. He milked himself slowly, savoring everything.

They took a long moment to catch their breaths in which worry and insecurity broiled into Rhys’ mind. What were they supposed to do now? When it raced through Jack’s mind. He stood and left his office, walking into their bedroom. Rhys was in their bed, pajama pants at his thighs, shirt being pulled off and thrown in the dirty laundry.

His mind had been too busy to realize Jack had approached. He jumped as Jack went to his side and leaned over him. He kissed Rhys slowly, giving him a chance to decide what to do. Rhys kissed him back, his mind grinding to a halt.

“This is what we do next,” Jack whispered. “We take it slow and just let whatever happens happen.”

Rhys laughed, his breath caught between them. “It’s a little late to be going slow…”

“True.” He kissed Rhys again. “You regret any of it?”

“Only that it took me so long.” He wrapped his arms around Jack and pulled him onto the bed.

[aredhelevaltieri]

Different: Three members of the opposite sex they find attractive.

Fuck it, we are going to go way beyond 3. Way beyond. Beside, this was sent to me twice when I posted the prompt few weeks ago. I jacked up the first one sent so let’s do this right.

1. C - @theconstructsworld 

Look at the man. Look at him, then interact with him. Ared finds herself trapped in a warped sense of reality in his company. It’s an interaction dreams are made of. Maybe she questions if he is even there. Is this her mind’s machinations? His company is unlike any other. This is the type of man you can get lost with, in hopes of never coming back to whatever life you have ever known. 

C is a dream. C is laying in a garden surrounded by roses looking at the sky as it passes with the smell of decay surrounding you. You’ll gladly suffer it, because you will get so lost in his being you don’t notice the black abyss of your own doing because, you might have done bad things with him. Mind fuck. Yes.

2. Castinus - @monster-of-master 

There is a reason everyone wants on his footjob dick. Ared just wants to hold his dick while he pisses on his mother’s grave, if she could talk him into it ( she doesn’t know she is dead. Is she dead? ) They knew each other in the past and she looks forward when she gets to see this pale freak again with a donkey dong cock. 

We are well past our annual once a year writing in game. 

3. Exsar - @exsar-starhawk

He provokes Ared. The nice guy always finishes last for a reason in Ared’s Azeroth. Ared doesn’t think Exsar is a nice guy at all. Maybe he is? Then, ahh, then, there will be no interest. Who knows lol. 

4. Lebryn - @lebrynedain 

Have you met Lebryn? Not only does he swing his big dick, he will shine it in front of everyone for all to see. He commands a huge military and his riches know, no end. Lebryn and Ared are very similar in many ways, save for the fact that he has found more success being born human and living in Alliance lands. Don’t worry, she will catch up. 

5.  Narin - @narintheitarael

Who can resist a debonair man? Narin and Ared have deep intricate ties to one another and it seems the pendulum swings in different ways depending on what is going on in the world around them. The man is handsome and good at holding conversation. He really understands how the world works on the surface and is worldly in many ways. The type of man that can take care of you and provide for all things. 

There is still so much for Ared to learn about him. He seems forsaken at times by the cruelness of this world, but she really enjoys his dedication to all things he holds true. 

6. Woke - 

Woke is a shit talking knight. A real thick motherfucker. That cockbag that went to the bar, pity banged toothless broods just to fuck, and then left whoever in the alley to go back to his boys. Just some asshole that married a noble and became lord. 

When Ared first met him, she asked who he was sleeping with and he casually stroked her cheek and said, whoever he wants. Bitches love that. 

7. Niva @nivathostin -

Oh fucking Niva. Niva is the perfect rogue. Not -that- rogue that you are like, oh FUCK it’s one of those rogues again. Get Niva alone. Niva is something altogether different. Ared met that monster, chased him, and he consumed her. She felt something disturbing and wanted to bathe in it even if the water was her own blood.

Now, she sees a different side of this man and in turn, she shows herself to him raw. She feels very blessed to hear his words where many just see a man that enjoys a drink. Niva is a poet of life and experience. A man of heightened passion in all things. Niva is brutal, both good and bad. 

8. Rhysy -Piecey @rhys-valtieri

Oh brother! It’s fucking Rhys. Rhys is the long game. Rhys is something that makes your skin crawl and when you want his touch to soothe you, it will be gone. Was it even there in the first place? Maybe it was but you lost it due to your own self loathing and decay. Rhys is a tricky and slippery slope if someone tries to climb up that hill. I promise it’s a fucking ride if you do. Ared will always be attracted to Rhys. Rhys is her world. Nothing is thicker than blood. 

[thethespacecoyote]

if youre still doing the prompts 2. for rhack if you feel like it? 💛💙💛💙

kind of envisioning a modern/sugar daddy AU type of thing here

for the prompt: “I’m at the hospital.”

Rhys almost always answered his texts.

The kid was hooked to his phone like it was an IV constantly feeding him as many photos and messages as he tapped out himself.  Even on the fanciest of dates to the most expensive restaurants in the city, with Jack in those nice clothes Rhys always badgered him to wear, Rhys couldn’t go five minutes without pulling out his phone and snapping pictures of the next course the waiter had brought to their table.

So when Rhys hadn’t answer Jack’s lunch-time text by the time the older man got off work, alarm bells had started to ring in his ears.

At first, he’d thought maybe the kid’s phone had just run out of battery, or maybe for some reason or another he’d put the damn thing on vibrate instead of the annoyingly catchy techno text-tone that usually jingled out of his phone and interrupted whatever romantic moment Jack had painstakingly set up this time. It was only when he called Rhys did he realize that at least the former was unlikely, as he kept getting Rhys’ voicemail. So the kid’s phone was on, he just wasn’t picking up for whatever reason.

And the fact that Jack didn’t know the reason had him almost immediately on edge.

Thirty missed calls and an uncountable number of all-caps texts later, and just as Jack planned to contact the cops the dial tone cut off with a muffled click, followed by a meek little:

“Jack?”

“Holy hell, kiddo.” Jack couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice, snapping perhaps a little too harshly at Rhys. He cradled his face in his hands, trying to breath evenly as relief dropped like a rock through his body.

“I—I know, I should’ve—“

“Kiddo, you tell me where you are and what’s going on right now.” Jack didn’t want to hear anything besides his boyfriend’s location and current situation. Rhys could tell him the details after he’d chewed him out in person.

He heard Rhys huffing anxiously over the line, starting and stopping a few times before managing to get a coherent sentence out.  

“Sorry, I…well…okay, it’s kind of funny, actually, so don’t be mad—“

“Rhys,” Jack growled through his teeth. “Spit. It. Out.”

A deep, shaky sigh buzzed over the phone.

“So I. I guess I’m at the hospital?”

Jack hadn’t bothered to hear Rhys out over the phone, repeating over and over that he was heading over now whether Rhys liked it or not, until the young man gave in with a terse “fine” and hung up on him. The kid didn’t sound particularly hurt or shaken, not that it did much to soothe Jack’s nerves. He nearly ran a red light on his way to the hospital, palms sweaty and nervous against the steering wheel the whole time before he finally pulled into the parking building.

After an antsy couple of minutes tapping his knuckles against the front desk as the attendant clicked away at her computer until she came up with Rhys’ status and current room. He didn’t bother waiting around for any more information, taking off down the hallway.

Jack didn’t bother knocking when he got to the door with the appropriate number, wrenching it open with sweating fingers.

His eyes immediately zeroed in on Rhys, taking full stock of the boy’s state as he swept over. Rhys’ mouth opened in surprise a Jack’s sudden entrance as he started to prop himself up, but Jack’s eyes had already left Rhys’ face to focus on his right leg. It poked out from underneath the thin hospital sheets, sheathed in a bright blue from the ball of his foot all the way up to his calf.

“J-Jack, hold on—“ Rhys held up his hands defensively as Jack came to a halt at his bedside, but the older man’s furious concern had been jammed into overdrive at the sight of his boyfriend’s injury.

“What the hell?” Jack cried, far too loud for a quiet hospital setting as he pointed to where Rhys’ toes wiggled helplessly from inside the cast. “Did you get hit by a car or something?”

“Uh…not exactly…” Rhys shifted awkwardly in the bed, knees rubbing together. He kept his eyes on the blankets covering his lap, fingers fidgeting with the thin fabric.

Jack placed his hands on his hips, expectant. He watched Rhys bite the inside of his cheek, fingers tucking loose hair behind his ear as if the little gestures could help him work up the courage to explain.

“So…you remember those heels I bought the other day?”

“Yeah?”

Jack knew the exact pair Rhys was talking about, thanks to an argument they’d had about the purchase when Rhys had brought them home in the first place. You see, Jack liked when his boyfriend wore heels—they helped firm up his butt and show off those long, slender legs that had captured Jack’s attention in the first place—but this pair had been seriously high. More like weapons of torture than fashionable footwear, in Jack’s opinion. And Rhys had been planning to wear them out and about, not just to fancy dinners, prompting Jack to put his foot down on the matter. Something Rhys hadn’t exactly taken well.

But they’d made up after only a few hours of stewing mad at each other—Jack had ordered in Rhys’ favorite takeout, and Rhys had even blown him on the couch later when evening television had grown boring. He’d even promised not to wear the shoes out as he’d planned, instead saving them for a special occasion. They’ resolved the problem. So why was Rhys…?

Jack’s eyes narrowed at the cast, then at Rhys’ downturned, sheepish expression.

“Oh.” Tight, angry heat clenched in Jack’s chest. “You little idiot. You didn’t.”

The boy finally lifted his eyes to look at him, sensing the building frustration.

“L-Look, you just don’t get fashion, okay? Sacrifices have to be made!”

“Kiddo, I hate to break it to you, but you kind of need your ankles, okay?”

“It’s just a little break, the doctor said it’ll heal up in only a few weeks!” Rhys huffed, crossing his arms tightly around his chest as he turned to stare out the window like he were angry at it instead of Jack. “You don’t have to make such a big deal out of it, you know.”

“Big deal? Big deal?” Jack’s voice raised, uncaring of the fact that it would probably echo all the way down the corridor. “I spent the last couple hours in a frikkin’ panic wondering about what happened to you, kiddo, only to find out you broke your god-damn ankle doing something I told you not to? I think that’s a bit of a big deal!”

Rhys said nothing, eyes falling back to his folded hands. Jack caught the glimmer of something wet in his eyes, confirmed by a sad little sniffle. The older man sighed, anger whistling out through his teeth as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, trying to calm down.

“Look…” He managed after a moment’s steady breathing. “I just worry when you get hurt. Okay?”

“…Okay.” Rhys whispered after his own steadying pause, his shoulder sagging in a sigh.

“For what it’s worth…” Rhys tipped his head up, trying to smile. “I…I looked pretty good in those heels until I tripped down the stairs.”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh, breaking his tension slightly as he pulled his hand away from his face.

“Yeah…bet you did, Rhysie. Bet you did.”

Jack pulled up a chair to the bedside, sitting next to his boyfriend and sliding their hands together. Rhys squeezed his fingers softly, delicate touch calming Jack down considerably from the height of his earlier worry.

“So…You wanna be the first one to sign my cast?” Rhys asked, pointing down towards his leg. Jack snorted at the innocent request, leaning in to carefully kiss his boyfriend’s cheek, before producing a work pen from inside his blazer pocket.

“I got you covered, baby.”

[spycethra]

Oooo for a prompt can we get some unhinged Tim attacking Rhys?

XD AHHH. I’ve been wanting to put this in Wanted but what the hell. 

“Rhys, Rhys, Rhyyys… All you had to do was stay put…”

Rhys could feel footsteps going back and forth against concrete. His mind was still in a haze, at a loss for where he was or even how he got there. He was sitting on the floor against the wall with his arms up for some reason. Finding that to be strange, he tried pulling them down only to feel something tight around his wrists, keeping him suspended there.

But nothing alarmed him more than the sound of clinking chains as he tried to move.

“..Wh..where… Why…” he started but it was getting hard for his mind to connect speech to his mouth.

“I told you WHY, Rhys. So stop asking. You’re really trying my patience right now…”

“…J-Jack..”

The violent clang of tongs or something metallic of some sort clashing to the floor caused Rhys to shudder from fear.

“Oh. You just had to mention his name. You really… just HAD TO. Didn’t you, Rhys? Because he’s just all you ever think about, isn’t he?”

Footsteps stopped just in front of him before the figure knelt down. Rhys finally recognized the face but fought the instinct to say Jack again.

This was Timothy.

Rhys felt his hair suddenly grabbed as his head was yanked back. His pale neck suddenly exposed with bruises and puncture marks.

“Jack this. Jack that. Are you wondering where he is, Rhys? Of course you are… Always… so caring. It’s what makes you so endearing, you know?”

Rhys surprised himself as a sob escaped his throat just as Timothy’s tongue dragged itself along the still fresh cuts.

“Tim…”

“Oh no. Don’t even try that now. Unlike Jack, tears don’t work on me when I’m already angry.”

Timothy raised himself examining Rhys’ pure state of despair with his complete attention.

“…You know, I could forgive you…” suggested the younger twin as he gently kissed along Rhys’ jawline, “I really could, Rhys… You just have to hurt a little. And you have to let me… take something.”

Rhys felt his entire body go rigid the moment Timothy’s thumb rubbed at the underside of his left eye.

“T-Tim, no… Pl-please no.”

“I usually only do this post-mortem. At my brother’s request, of course. He thinks it’s too cruel that I take hours just to remove one. He thinks being quick is merciful but… Rhys, I find it to be just disgraceful. Your pain is beautiful. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“No, no! Tim, please, do not go through with this!” Rhys cried out while trying to pull himself away but there was no where to go.

“Ohhh… Rhys… You sound amazing… It’s like you’re singing - just for me…”

Any hope Rhys had of escaping Timothy’s domain melted away with every leisurely kiss and tender caress. Timothy was the thorough one. No one was going to find them. And if didn’t give up his eye…

Rhys broke into another sob at the sight of the less fortunate victims still suspended from the ceiling. He had thought they were broken mannequins by how distorted they were. Now he knew they were actually corpses with shattered limbs, spiking gruesomely past broken flesh.

“Just the left eye, Rhysie. That’s all I’ll take. I promise…”

“…Please, don’t hurt me…”

“It has to hurt, Rhys. …Otherwise… you were never really sorry.”    

[doppeldonger]

Weigh Me Down

[Inspired by Lorn’s ‘Weigh Me Down’, I decided to come to terms with how bad my PTSD has gotten lately with the help of that scene in Tales ep 5 where Rhys terminates Jack. 

Trigger warning for: Depression, abuse, suicidal thoughts, dissociation, blood and general violence.]

Reasonable arguments are out of the question at this particular point of his life, he has long given up on trying to put some sense into the other man. He's obstinate, deaf to opinions, and basically a condescending bastard. There aren't enough adjectives to describe how unbearable he is, to be quite honest.

Rhys is so done with the sorry excuse of a Handsome Jack knockoff he allowed to reside so shamelessly in his head.

Their minds have been connected up to some point, so the young man is quite sure the rotten little bundle of codes has felt his frustration and eventually, the utmost feeling of lethargy. He's not sure the man's capable of feeling the tiniest piece of empathy, though, so nothing really matters.

There's one thing that matters, however. He keeps repeating the words in his head, it's been a while since he started doing that; ever since he made the grave mistake of trusting Jack, to be exact (I mean, trusting the CEO who is notorious for his kill streak and narcissism over a bunch of Pandoran scum is the right thing to do, right?)

Right. Jack's started yammering about something again and Rhys is in no mood to put up with the man. He starts with the words that have become his mantra as of late, basically talking to himself, "You weigh me down..." He doesn't care if he's going mad, he gave up on telling himself he's a sane person long time ago.

As he sifts through the glorious wreckage that was once the mighty Helios, he ignores the glitching face appearing on the broken screens. He's talking about betrayal like he has any right to after betraying Rhys himself.

Rhys has no one to blame but himself about that, really. He knew what Jack was like from the very start, but was too blinded by his fascination with the man that he chose to ignore the thorns the AI so happily stuck in his side for the sake of worshipping him like a god.

"You weigh me down." he mutters, jumping over and ducking under the broken mess. And Jack. Still. Talks.

Breaking things down to build them anew is a thing Jack's into now, apparently. Even though he doesn't reside in his head anymore, Rhys can feel Jack's booming, albeit stuttering voice in his body. Wasn't that his goal anyway? Take over Helios, take over Rhys's body, take over Hyperion, take over the universe. Right?

Right. "You weigh me..." Rhys is so damn tired, of running, of trying, of simply existing. He can feel depression tugging at the corners of his mind. "You weigh me down." Maybe he should just give up. He raises his head, eyeing Jack's colossal figure looking down at him.

He looks so pained, so vulnerable. He looks so sympathetic, so interested in Rhys.

He looks like the god damn liar he is, and he. Still. Tries. 

Unbelievable as the whole situation that's been dominating his life is, haggardness is what guides Rhys and not Jack's spiel. "Give me a drug and I'll take it." he speaks up, his emotionless voice cracking. Jack actually shuts up for a moment to regard Rhys with a surprised expression. He makes a comment about not wanting to hurt Rhys, so what the hell are you talking about, cupcake?

The grim smile darkening the host's face is the only reply the persistent virus gets. He returns to his monologue, not fazed by the sudden mood change.

Rhys is simply feeling suicidal, looking for a way to stop existing; he has no goal in life anymore, nothing to be proud of. Hyperion is gone, so are the con artists and his friends; Jack continues to subsist and there's seemingly nothing Rhys can do about any of this. No hope, no thrill, no trust. "Watching you sharpen knives."

Then he hears it: a gentle whir from behind him. He turns around sluggishly to see the USB drive from before, the one connected to that dumb golden wheeled office chair, heading mercilessly for his head (Huh. Funny pun, Rhys knows).

He may want to give up with this shitty life, but welcoming Jack back into his mind is the last thing he needs-

But he's too slow. 

The thin long device lodged easily into his port, he thinks maybe he's being punished for his sins. He lets out a yelp that borders on a scream when he feels Jack being transferred into his head, forcing himself onto Rhys and abusing his host with his arrogant greed.

The man himself now stands before him like he did for so long, an evil smile gracing his sharp features. Rhys thinks "Handsome" Jack must be a name chosen sarcastically, because the sneer on this man's face, the way his brows furrow, the way he squints his eyes... He's just so damn ugly, inside and out.

Screw dying.

...oookay, maybe not. Jack making him strangle himself with his own arm has become an old trick he's very bored of at this point, but the AI seems like he actually plans to kill Rhys this time. Well, shit. He flails and fights as the corners of his vision start to get darker. He yearns for oxygen, wheezing pathetically for air- then he notices a piece of metal that went through the wall after the fall of the space station. Perfect opportunity, unlike Jack's shitty city.

He jams his arm onto the metal, almost gurgling in pain and lack of air in the process. He pushes and he pulls.

You weigh me down.

The arm goes offline and Rhys can breathe again. Jack's back to his monologue.

"You give me hell but I'll make it." Rhys interrupts, forcing pressure on his arm to tear it off like one tears a piece of paper into two. If there wasn't so much blood, he'd give himself a mental pat on the back for being such a badass. Naturally, he simply ends up letting out an agonized whine.

He falls down and sits on his ass, watching Jack saunter close like a lion and loom over him menacingly. The AI threatens him, boasting that he'll never go away; he might rip off an arm ("Big deal, Rhysie!") but what is a metal arm to a god, to Hyperion himself? Jack does not receive the terrified reaction he was waiting for, as Rhys is too distracted by his ECHO eye malfunctioning at this point to understand the words spilling from the other's mouth.

...his ECHO implements.

He looks at Jack, stupefied and mouth slightly agape. The AI opens his arms in a welcoming gesture, assuming Rhys has finally seen how much of a raw power he has. They smile simultaneously, but the reasons behind Jack's gloating grin and Rhys's sour smirk are completely different.

You weigh me...

His remaining hand gropes at the floor, coming back with a piece of glass secured snugly between his fingers. Jack does not notice, too busy with his ideals and dreams.

You weigh me down.

He experimentally presses the glass to his port, and finally, finally Jack notices what's going on. He looks scared, good. Rhys gives him a watery leer as he tears the ECHOport from his temple with the help of the glass shard. He screams, and Jack yells; his hand comes down on his lap, bloodied. His eyes have not left Jack's, not even for a moment. Now, though, he feels like he's watching his body move from afar, like he's not a part of it anymore. He wonders if he's dissociating or it's the pain and blood loss. Maybe it's Jack taking control, who knows? He certainly doesn't.

He stands up with great effort, he won't let this pathetic man look down on him while they scream at each other.

Why won't he go away anyway? God, Rhys is so done with Jack.

Right.

Still feeling the disconnection between his mind and his body, he moves the bloodied glass shard closer to his ECHOeye; both men watch each other with wide eyes and quickened breaths.

"I've still got one good eye..." The shard picks at the bright blue eye. Jack falls to his knees, his form flickering in the ECHOeye's malfunctioning vision. Rhys smiles sardonically as Jack begs. "Blind as a fool, I can fake it, telling the truth with lies." The eye is off the socket, held by an assembly of wires connecting his sight to his brain. It's gonna be painful as hell, he knows, but it'll be worth it. 

He pulls. Jack lunges at him. "It won't be long 'til I break it."

The pain is blinding.

Jack is gone.

He can hear the fires going off in various places, smell blood and feel the dust. The Pandoran night welcomes the remains of Helios along with Rhys in a dangerous embrace.

Silence engulfs the existence, gracing Rhys's trembling figure with a moment to take it all in; a terrified sigh escapes him in the next moment as feelings return to his body in full force.

'Cause you know, you know... 

He's gone. For real. Forever. Despite the pain, Rhys can feel a dumb smile tugging at his lips.

You weigh me down.

His body hits the ground, but he doesn't feel the impact. He tries to keep his head up, still smiling, the perfect mockery of the condescending Hyperion smile.

Darkness welcomes him, with no Jack this time.

[ripdumpy]

...i wrote 1,300 words of sfw omega!jack fic in an hour at about 3:30 this morning, because i kind of dared myself to make a go of a/b/o and intended for it to just be like 100 words and this was. really a catastrophic failure on multiple levels. BUT HEY, if you want to read that, HERE IT IS.

rhys is jack’s PA! very little is actually explained! ganbatte!

Rhys senses something off about Jack’s office the second he’s through the doors, with such ferocity that it makes his temples ache. He scans the room, steps halted - Jack certainly gets enough attempts on his life to make it a viable possibility, and he’d rather not put his own life so directly in his own butterfingers if he can help it - but after a thorough twice-over with his ECHO eye, and nothing immediately jumping out at him as being out of place, his posture settles slightly.

He’s still tense enough to jerk to attention when Jack calls, “hey, pumpkin, I’m really not paying you to stand there and look pretty!”

Rhys scurries down the center path to Jack’s desk with no more fanfare than that, offering a pallid nod to the side of Jack’s head and fumbling a pair of ECHOs onto his desk, careful not to knock over any of his open drinks where they litter the desk in a halo around his keyboard.

He hadn’t realized he’d been rubbing at his forehead again - and Jack suddenly snapping his fingers catches him off guard.

“Uh,” he manages, eloquently.

Jack doesn’t look happy - but at least he’s looking at him now, so Rhys rushes to gather up his thoughts from before he’d felt the pounding ache in his skull. God, it isn’t going away, either, stripping his brain like a migraine, and he makes a mental note to run diagnostics on his kit once he gets to his desk.

“I’m listening,” Jack drawls, flat and irritable. Rhys doesn’t know what he did, but he knows better than to ask, having familiarized himself fairly quickly with his boss’s moods.

He gestures to the ECHOs. “The, um, the one on top is that call log from Torgue and Tediore,” he explains. “I went through it last night, I sent the report to your private server.” He licks his dry lips, trying to be obliging. “Um - you might want to make sure it didn’t get sorted - “

“Rhys,” Jack nearly growls, and Rhys flinches - but nothing follows the warning, no clever threat. After a beat of silence filled only by the hum of Jack’s desk computer, he merely says, “I got it. Continue.”

Right. Just impatient then. “Sorry, sir,” Rhys offers dutifully. He nudges the second ECHO with his knuckle. “This one was supposed to be the witness reports off the guys in AD, but I listened to it and recognized the voice - Denver, it’s, Denver is the head of AD - so I, uh, - ” Rhys swallows convulsively, cutting himself off and jumbling his thoughts again. He’s starting to feel a little unwell, and not unlike they aren’t alone in the office, the hairs on the back of his neck pricking up uncomfortably.

Jack glances down to where his finger is still touching the ECHO, then cuts his gaze back up to his face. “You…” he prompts.

Rhys shakes his head. “S - sorry - I um, I went through some other incident reports, I just - I had a hunch, and it turns out this is the guy who posed as maintenance in R&D four months ago, back when we had the. Um, the weird, slag, the spore guys - back when they all disappeared. Remember? It was like someone - “

“ - had access to the airlock who shouldn’t have, right,” Jack finishes. He puts his head in one of his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Rhys watches the pull of his synthetic skin, still mildly fascinated to see it up close. “Just what I needed,” he grouses.

Rhys shifts his weight. “It looks like he changed his name, so, I sent you his two employee files so you could… figure out how to deal with him,” he finishes, lips a tight line.

He doesn’t understand - sure, Jack is intimidating, but Rhys has been working directly under him for over a month now. There’s no reason for his (admittedly cavernous) office to be causing him so much anxiety out of the blue like this. He really needs to run those diagnostics.

“What I should do is just revoke access to those controls for all the fucks in maintenance, watch ‘em squirm. And run this… sabotaging jerkoff through a grinder for trying to fuck ol’ Jack over a second time.” He sighs, sounding too bone-tired to dredge up any excitement about the murder, then turns back to his computer - Rhys would take it as a dismissal, but he adds, a little more softly, “good work, Rhysie.”

Rhys can’t help it, he blushes - and then winces when the added heat just make his head feel more out of sorts.

Now that he’s paying attention, Rhys doesn’t think Jack looks too hot either - he looks almost curled in on himself, his whole body a tight line, tweaked into an arch like a taut violin string. Rhys wonders if he’s slept yet, or left his office in the last three days, and feels a touch of guilt for not checking in with him any sooner.

“Um,” he hazards, “something… feels weird in here.” He thumbs over his temple - the one without the port - trying to dispel the tension, but it hardly helps. “Like it’s - I don’t know, I feel like I’m being… watched.” That sounds a bit paranoid, even for him, so he tacks on, “or like you left rotting food in here again. That could be it.”

He’s hoping for some solidarity, if not an explanation, but Jack doesn’t look amused in the slightest. “If you want to open a window, I’d be happy to direct you to the bookcase,” he warns, clipped.

Rhys purses his lips. Cranky, he thinks, but clearly Jack isn’t in any kind of mood to humor him - he has no idea what’s causing it, this sudden spike in his stress level, but it doesn’t seem like Jack is faring any better.

“Jack,” he pleads, though he tries to remain as neutral as he can, “have you left this office recently? You sound like you’ve been cooped up in here for a week.”

Jack snorts, but he quits scrolling through his message feed, so he hasn’t dismissed Rhys outright.

“…I think I might be coming down with something,” he presents tersely. He rolls his head on his shoulders, looking antsy. “Maybe I got a fever, or somethin’. I dunno. You know sick people always smell like burnt ass.”

“Oh,” Rhys allows, prepared to leave it at that - but something in his brain clicks. Oh.

He leans a little closer to Jack’s head, conspiratorial, concern overwhelming. “Jack - do you mean - um. Like, a fever, or - “

“Rhysie.”

His tone makes something in Rhys’ blood go cold, and he straightens up immediately. “Jack, sir?”

Jack’s expression is unreadable, but his eyes are clear - he looks like he’s a step away from killing Rhys, closer than he’d been in all the time he’s worked for him. Oh, god. What the hell.

Jack gestures to the chair on the opposite side of his desk, making a show of leaning back in his own chair - though Rhys doesn’t miss the way his body twinges, like he’s got a cramp.

Either way, he’s not going to deny Jack now. He folds himself primly into the seat, waiting.

“We’re gonna have a little chit-chat,” Jack says, like he’s polishing an old knife. Rhys forces down a shudder, not wanting to give him any reason to goad him further with his sudden mood.

“A - about?”

“About how I am not,” Jack spits, looking almost feral - Rhys can spot his unfiled canines, and his pupil dilates - “anyone’s simpering omega.”

Rhys gulps, petrified.

“Is. that. clear.”

“...yes sir.”

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember Me? (Part six)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: yeah, i like this one very much 😏 there is no rhys in this part, but he will make an appearance in the next one, and will make y'all hate rhysie for sure 😏😌

•○🌑○•

At some point, the two of them had moved to the couch. she was practically sitting in his lap as she let her tears wet his shirt.

The room was silent except for the sound of Y/n's sobs and Eris's soft voice murmuring assurances in her ear.

He stroked her back, randomly running his fingers through her hair, and that made her cry harder, curling her fingers tighter in his shirt.

Y/n had lost track of time, so immersed in emptying her tears onto Eris's tunic. It could have been mere moments since Rhys had left, could have been hours. She didn't know, for with her face burried in his chest, all she could see was how stupid she'd been.

How stupid to let that manipulative bastard, brain conquering scoundrel into her home again.

She hadn't realised it then, but now she knew that he had somehow slipped into her mind, dominated her sane thoughts, and had been about to force her to let him back in.

She felt sick to her stomach, knowing what could have happened if Eris hadn't arrived on time.

Finally, Y/n decided to stop trying to drown Eris's shirt in her tears and pulled away, blinking up at him. He smiled softly, pushing away the hair from her face.

The smile on his face was unlike any of his other smiles. It was gentle and looked loving, but there was an edge to it, like a predator pretending to be the prey's friend.

"What time is it? How long till sunset?" She mumbled, straightening as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.

He said nothing for a moment, simply studying her. "A few hours at best. We should start packing if we have any hope of getting Fin and you out of here."

Y/n blinked. "You- you were serious when you said you wanted us to come to autumn?"

He gave her a look as he stood, stretching before he began to look around. "Of course I was. Now, where do we start?"

•○🌑○•

There was not a lot to pack. After Y/n had moved here, she hadn't unpacked all of her stuff because she'd been tired. And the day she was going to do it, Rhys had found out about Fin, and since then Y/n had been on edge and hadn't unpacked much in case she had to leave within a moment's notice.

Everything that Y/n owned was packed and winnowed away, thanks to Eris.

Now as Y/n stood studying this empty space, two parts within her clashed.

One wanted to be sad, wanted to think she'd miss this place. The other couldn't wait to get out.

As she was busy surveying the place to make sure she had packed everything, she felt, more than heard, Eris come up behind her.

"Are you having second thoughts?"

His voice was feather soft as it brushed across the nape of her neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He was practically a furnace as he stood behind her, warming every part of her body.

She had to stop a shiver from crawling down her spine.

She turned her head to look at him to find him barely away from her, standing so close they were sharing breath. Her eyes widened to find him closer than she expected, but he seemed unfazed.

His gaze travelled from her eyes to her mouth and back again. His eyes seemed to hold something that she couldn't decipher, nor did she want to because her brain was currently malfunctioning.

There were no thoughts in her head, and all she could think about was how beautiful the male in front of her was. How his eyes were one of the most beautiful ones she'd ever seen. How his hair was same colour of Fin's favourite stuffed toy.

What? Stuffed toy?

Y/n had no idea where that thought came from, but she didn't care.

His breath washed over her lips, and she leaned her head back to get a good look at him.

There was no sound other than their breathing. She didn't want to break the silence, but she had to. Thankfully, Eris beat her to it.

"Y/n..." If she hadn't been straining her ears, she wouldn't have bee able to her what he was saying, his voice was so low.

It didn't help that she could hear her own heartbeat as well as his. Her heart was speeding so much she felt like it would burst out of her chest any moment now.

By the look on his face, he felt the same.

"Eris..."

"Yes?" He mumbled, his eyes focused on her lips. She decided to ignore that and the warmth spreading through her face.

"We need to wake Fin."

He blinked, seeming to process her words before his eyes cleared of the haze that had set in.

He blinked a couple of times before he mumble an oh.

He met her eyes, his cheeks turning a beautiful and endearing shade of red as he nodded, taking a step back. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but her as she turned to him fully.

She felt bad for putting him in such an awkward situation, so she opened her mouth to speak, but he didn't give her the chance. He swiftly turned on his heel and headed off towards where Fin was sleeping.

Y/n followed a little behind Eris, taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart.

What the hell is going on?

The day was going in a way that she hadn't expected, and she didn't know what to make of it.

By the time Y/n reached the room Fin was in, she found Eris leaned over her son, mumbling something. Fin squirmed for a moment, blinking his eyes open. He smiled sleepily at Eris as the redhead ran his fingers through the boy's hair.

Fin sat up, crawling onto Eris's lap as the two of them conversed in hushed tones.

Y/n was about to ask what they were talking about when Fin looked at her. He smiled wide. "Hello mommy."

Y/n couldn't help but smile at her son, her world.

Her hardships didn't feel that great when she knew it was all for her baby. It all felt worth it.

She walked to him, pecking his forehead. "Did you sleep well?"

Fin nodded happily, then glanced at Eris. The redhead gave him an encouraging smile, and Fin turned back to Y/n.

Y/n was immediately suspicious. "What are you up to now?"

Fin giggled. "Daddy told me we were going with him to his home-" What? Who? "and I wanted to go have ice cream before we left. He agreed."

Y/n's eyes flew to Eris's, who stared at Fin with wide eyes, all traces of his previous smile gone.

There is so much wrong in that sentence.

Eris's eyes lifted to Y/n's, and there was so much emotion in his eyes it took Y/n a moment to decipher it all.

Happiness warred with panic, love sparred with fear. Excitement, surprise and pure satisfaction were sat back, watching the show.

It took her another moment to realise that the fear and panic had a place in those beautiful russet orbs because he thought she would not be happy.

He... he was not scared of Fin calling him daddy. He was happy about it.

Fin climbed to his feet on the bed, clinging to Y/n, trying to convince her to let him get some ice cream, but Y/n couldn't hear him over the roaring in her head as she continued to stare at the High lord of Autumn court.

"He had promised that he will get me an ice cream before we came home, but I fell asleep. Can we please get an ice cream before we leave mommy? Please?"

Y/n swallowed, finally turning to Fin as Eris stood. "O-okay."

Fin squealed happily, hopping off the bed and running out the door, not waiting to see if Y/n or Eris followed.

"Y/n I- I swear I didn't tell him to call me that-"

Y/n turned away, ignoring his attempts to get her attention.

Her heart yearned to turn back to him, listen to what he had to say, but se did not have the energy for anymore drama. Not today.

Not when all going through her head was that word Fin had uttered.

The word he'd never had the chance to say before.

Daddy.

•○🌑○•

Part 7

Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautifu @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913@j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten@txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta

[taylors-fourth-cat-meow]

The part in acotar where tamlin loved that winter forest painting and told feyre that he's not alone anymore, I love that part where he was finally opening up about his vulnerability

Hi anon!!

Oh yasss I LOVE that part too.

(I actually think that was the moment he realised he was like 'in love with her' but that's just me)

I know a lot of people don't like the first book cause it has no rhysie dick but if I had to choose my fav from this god awful series it wud be the first one.

I know it's a sad excuse for a beauty and the beast re-telling, the pacing is slow, tamlin has no beast characteristics and as always feyre's narration is weird but atleast it has a plot.

It gives a mediaeval fantasy vibe not like feyres over sized sweaters and leggings in acomaf or hello toilets?? It's like they are set in two different time periods *Sigh*

And tho tamlin is mostly depressed sad white guy I actually like that he is shy and distant at first but then slowly opens up to feyre like she does to him. It's how they both bring down their walls and fall in love (unlike how rhysand literally manipulates feyre into accepting that mating bond with his sob story. ) Their interactions are also sweet and balanced with luciens humour. Like the part at breakfast when tam's 'hungry' gaze makes feyre all hot and heavy and Lucien is like I'm trying to eat.

I think someone mentioned this before but Tamlin and feyre in the first book had so much in common with than rhysie and her.

Like the anon pointed out, that scene is tamlin opening up about his vulnerability to feyre because she understands. She was also thrust into a situation she didn't ask for, with a terrible father and uncaring siblings. She didn't like hunting she has said it in canon but did it because she had to. Likewise tamlin didnt ask to be HL but he has no choice. I also like this line from the text,

I paused with my foot on the threshold. “That’s what happens when you’re responsible for lives other than your own, isn’t it? You do what you have to do.”

This I think is equivalent to the painting scene. This is feyre opening up to Tamlin about her vulnerabilities.

And their relationship is so much more realistic and not epic fantasy love *gags*. Atleast the romantic scenes in Acotar weren't cringing-till-i-throw-up bad like they were in Acomaf

We apologized at dinner. He even brought me a bouquet of white roses from his parents’ garden, and while I dismissed them as nothing, I made certain that Alis took good care of them when I returned to my room. She gave me only a wry nod before promising to set them in my painting room. I fell asleep with a smile still on my lips.

There are so many other scenes that like these which so cute and sweet. Like the one with the pool of starlight, the singing willow, the summer solstice, where she tends to his hands after he fight with the bogge ig, when the summer faerie dies.

The first book in general had so much potential. I mean the concept of the seven courts and the girl going through those trials (as stupid as they were) to save the guy was actually not bad if only it had a better author to execute it.

[thethespacecoyote]

"Look at that instetine cake!" Fancy Omega Jack making a bunch of gross and graphic organ looking foods.

fluff is fun too :0

Jack’s love of baking had always fascinating Rhys, perhaps due to the fact that it was such an unlikely hobby for the apex alpha and bloodthirsty king of Hyperion to have. The first time Rhys had seen Jack delicately piping chocolate designs or whipping a perfect meringue he’d found it both bewildering and oddly adorable to behold. The care with which Jack produced such elegant and complex desserts was compelling and sweet, and Rhys always enjoyed watching him work whenever he fell into one of his baking fits—as well as reap the delicious rewards.

So seeing him getting a little sloppy and obscene putting together gory, grotesque Halloween themed desserts for their sons was a departure from the norm, but still naturally fitting. In fact, when the layperson heard “Handsome Jack baking” they probably envisioned something more like the scene in the kitchen before him—Jack with red raspberry coulis splattered down his white and yellow apron, hands stained with red dye and excited, almost crazed expression streaked with flour and spotted with chocolate. He stole one long, green gummy worm from a bag and stuck it in his mouth, chewing and smirking as his kids’ gasped.

“Daaaad, don’t eat all the candy! There won’t be any for the cake!” Cyrus exclaimed, pointing at the deep dish full of gooey chocolate pudding and crushed Oreo cookies. Jack grinned, playfully ruffling Cyrus’ hair to distract him as he slurped another gummy worm down.

“Shhhh, I ain’t up to nothing, kiddo, and trust me there will be pleeeenty of creepy-crawlies left for your lil’ graveyard.” Jack grabbed a handful of sticky worms and placed them in the little palms of his sons, leaving them to scatter the treats all over the cake as he slips on his favorite, slightly burnt, Hyperion-brand oven mitt. He pulled a heavy baking pan from the oven, sliding it onto a small wire rack to cool.

“Rhysie, get a load of my intestine cake,” Jack snapped his fingers at his mate. Rhys quickly slid over, pausing to smiling at his boys as they too snuck some worms secretly, not wanting their dad to notice. A warm mitt grabbed against Rhys’ hip, pressing him close to Jack as he peered over the piping hot pan.

“That…wow, that definitely looks like an intestine cake…or maybe more intestine bread…” Rhys’ eyes hungrily move over the winding folds of puff pastry squashed into the pan, raspberry jam sauce staining and bubbling out from the creases of the blossoming bread. Jack patted his hip, beaming.

“Just wait ’till you see the bloody cupcakes, sweetheart, the poured sugar shards came out awesome.” Jack was practically as giddy as his children were, eyes alight with cheer as he pressed a pleased kiss on Rhys’ cheek. The omega smirked, wiping at the smear of chocolate and raspberry Jack left on his skin.

“Just remember, if they get a sugar high, they’re you’re little monsters for the rest of the night.

[thethespacecoyote]

“Heat”

The air had been practically warm with scent-markers that Rhys could distantly place as being Jack’s, but something had been wrong with them in a way that had made his bonding gland throb with anxiety.

“Jack?” The omega had called without thinking. He’d heard more movement, seen Jack’s chair move slightly. The omega, fearing harm had come to his mate, had quickly sprinted forward, heels clipping up the stairs of the dais to Jack’s desk when he had been stopped dead in his tracks by a sudden blur of movement.

A loud crash had rocked Rhys’ ears as something large had leapt from the floor atop Jack’s nest, followed by a furious snarl unlike anything the omega had seen before. A sudden blast of instinctual fear had halted his momentum, eyes snapping to the figure on the desk. His mouth had dropped as he saw Jack, hunched on all fours, staring at Rhys’ with eyes that had practically glowed even in the light of the office.

Someone brought up the idea of alpha!Jack being injected with something to make him feral/in a rut, ending up with him attacking/trying to mount Rhys and Rhys has to both fend him off and subdue him for long enough to figure whats up

I’ve done plenty of fics where Rhys is the one in danger soooo why not have something bad happen to Jack while showcasing some more bamf Rhysie

Rhys can’t even hear the sound of his own breathing over the pounding of his heart.

He tries, desperately, to get his body functions under control even as panic courses through him. He grasps at his chest, tugging at the suddenly too-tight fabric wrapped about him, needing more room to breath so he could properly calm down. He needs time to think, he needs space, both resources that are rapidly starting to close with every distant snarl and dragging footstep he can hear down the long hallway.

His other hand grasps at the sheathed stun baton at his belt as his golden claws tear at his tie, pulling it loose before he undoes the buttons of his shirt, the cool, circulated air of the customer service cubicles kissing his pink panicked skin as he tries to slow his breathing.

He had only stopped by Jack’s office to briefly discuss with the alpha what he’d observed down at Weapon Testing earlier in the evening. Sure, he’d ordered the report sent up straight to the CEO, but Rhys often preferred discussing things openly with his alpha. After all, even the most boorish Hyperion underling knew that there were two brains helming the future of the company.

Everything had seemed normal when Rhys had ridden the elevator up to Jack’s office. The majority of the other personnel had gone home for the day, leaving their cubicles and desks empty save for kitschy personal belongings. Rhys had gingerly stepped around the little roomba buzzing around on the floor, cleaning up the remains of the day, as he had walked down the long hallway to Jack’s office, deftly opening up the steel door with a quick tap of his golden fingers.

That was when things had taken a turn for the worst.

Immediately as the doors had opened, Rhys had been hit by a wall of scent so thick that he’d actually stumbled backwards. Blinking furiously and wrinkling up his nose, Rhys had pressed his flesh hand over his face as he scanned the room, hackles raised. The well-light office—both by means artificial and from Elpis—had revealed a shocking scene. Papers and ECHO tablets had been thrown across the room, some of the latter still sparking as they lay shattered on the steel floor. Some of Jack’s own busts had been clawed at, like someone had taken a butcher’s knife to them, and one had even been knocked over and broken upon the ground. Jack’s trophy case had also been smashed, with its treasures scattered and strewn over the office.

With such carnage, Rhys had expected to scent blood.

But there had been nothing like that in the air, only the overwhelming, pungent stench of alpha musk. Rhys hadn’t been able to suppress the disgusted cough that had choked from his throat, and as it echoed about the room, Rhys could hear something move from the other side of Jack’s desk.

The air had been practically warm with scent-markers that Rhys could distantly place as being Jack’s, but something had been wrong with them in a way that had made his bonding gland throb with anxiety.

“Jack?” The omega had called without thinking. He’d heard more movement, seen Jack’s chair move slightly. The omega, fearing harm had come to his mate, had quickly sprinted forward, heels clipping up the stairs of the dais to Jack’s desk when he had been stopped dead in his tracks by a sudden blur of movement.

A loud crash had rocked Rhys’ ears as something large had leapt from the floor atop Jack’s nest, followed by a furious snarl unlike anything the omega had seen before. A sudden blast of instinctual fear had halted his momentum, eyes snapping to the figure on the desk. His mouth had dropped as he saw Jack, hunched on all fours, staring at Rhys’ with eyes that had practically glowed even in the light of the office.

“Um…Jack?” Rhys had tried, eyes roving over his husband’s body. Jack’s clothes had been ripped, but there had been no blood, no injuries as far as Rhys had seen. The alpha’s claws had been out, digging  long grooves into the desk as he’d glared at Rhys. His fangs had been curled over his lips even as they parted in a vicious snarl. A deep, nigh inhuman growl had simmered in the alpha’s chest as his nostrils had widened, violently scenting the air around him.

Rhys’ mouth had opened again, trying to reach through whatever was clouding his husband’s mind, only for Jack’s body to visibly tense up.

Rhys had had barely enough time to turn around before Jack had been leaping from the top of his desk and on top of him.

Rhys had screamed when Jack had landed on top of him, the alpha’s weight slamming him against the steel floor and nearly knocking him out cold. Rhys had felt warm blood explode from his nose as his face had been forced against the ground, one of Jack’s clawed hands grasping the back of his head and holding him down. Rhys had snarled back at his mate, needle-like omega fangs curling over his lips as he bucked furiously backwards.

“Jack, th’ fuck is your problem, get off me—!” Rhys had started, spitting blood froth onto the floor as he’d turned to look at his mate, only to feel something warm and thick press into his ass.

And that had been the moment that Rhys had realized his alpha was hard as a rock.

All hope that this had been some kind of role-play taken too far had been dashed when Rhys had breathed out their safe word, only to be ignored as Jack had continued rutting against his ass and making dull, snuffling noises at the back of his neck. Discomfort had crawled all over Rhys’ body, fighting the instinctive arousal humming in his body at the feeling of an alpha mounting him. Something had been incredibly, terribly wrong, and Rhys wasn’t just going to lie back and take it.

Jack may have had brute strength, but his mind had been practically gone, making it easy for Rhys to reach down and press the activation button on his stun baton.

Jack might kill him for the burn in his thigh later, but Rhys had been thinking about little more than escape when he’d crawled out from underneath the howling alpha, nearly breaking his heel as he’d made a mad dash to the hallway leading away from Jack’s office and crashed into a hiding place among the many adjacent cubicles.

Which was where Rhys had remained, panting and panicking as he tried to reconnect his brain to his body and think of a plan.

He’s already turned up the stun baton up another notch, from “kind of piss off” to “knock out cold” because by the sound of things, something is seriously wrong with Jack, and he need more time than he currently has to figure out what exactly is happening.

Rhys can hear the thumping footsteps of Jack getting closer, echoed by breathy, slovenly growls as the alpha approaches the grid of cubicles. A loud chuff snarls through the air as a mug shatters on the floor only a couple feet from Rhys. He listens as Jack ransacks the first cubicle, sniffing gruffly at the air as he stalks closer.

Rhys moves as quietly as he can into a crouching position, flesh hand clenching tightly over the handle of the stun baton. Many thoughts swarm around in his head as he tries to focus on the task at hand—subdue Jack first, ask questions later.

He waits until the alpha is only one cubicle down, until he can practically feel the hot, searching inhales against his skin. His body tenses up when he can see Jack’s glowing, mindless eyes from under the desk he’s hiding in, which is when he strikes.

They’ve had two kids already, so hopefully Jack will forgive him for aiming for the groin.

Rhys sends an ECHO message off to Tim explaining the situation and asking if the double can watch the boys for the rest of the night. Tim readily agrees, of course, and Rhys manages a smile at the other alpha’s reliability in trying situations.

He’s already had about half of the team tending to Jack ask if he’s okay, which was welcome at first but had annoyed him to the point where he’d had to growl out that they were treating Jack, not him. Rhys had been hit in the face enough over the years that being slammed into a metal floor wasn’t that big of a deal, and the incidental burns on his fingers from wielding the stun baton weren’t anything to write home about.

Sure, not many omegas could fend off a feral alpha, much less a feral alpha that also happened to be Handsome Jack, but Rhys hardly fit the stereotype. Still, he’d given a cursory nod and chuff in return to some concerned omega techs who had tried to scent away his anxiety, though most alphas and betas who had tried the same thing had been met with a glare and an order to return to helping Jack.

Said alpha was currently being restrained on the bed, hooked up to a sedative that was keeping him calm for the time being. The scientists had managed to figure out that the CEO had been injected with some very effective, very illegal form of alpha-targeted steroid. How and why such a thing had happened was still very much up to debate, as was how long it would take to fully flush the drug from his system and whether it would have any lingering side effects.

Rhys wasn’t exactly pleased about the lack of information, much less the fact that some low-life had probably tried to capitalize on Jack’s own alpha nature and drive it against him, but at the very least his mate was sedate and relatively safe and most importantly, not trying to force him down and mount him.

Rhys skated closer to Jack’s bed, worrying his lip as he watched the alpha’s muscles twitch involuntarily against his binds. Despite the sedative, Jack was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his temperature was still far too warm to be safely sustained for long. His breathing was also still way too fast, air hoarse in his throat as his chest rose up and down at a rapid pace.

A concerned growl left Rhys’ lips as his hand rested on the alpha’s bound bicep, softly stroking the too-hot flesh.

“Don’t worry…” Rhys mumbled, fingers tracing up Jack’s arm and shoulder until they came to rest over the alpha’s cheek, smoothing his sweaty hair off of his face.

���I’ll figure this out. I’ll help you. Just hang in there, okay?” Rhys whispered as he bent over to place a simple kiss against his husband’s forehead.