#moondevoured
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starter for @moondevoured
Intimidation was not something he'd felt...possibly ever. Amren had come close, but her softer streaks, even though they were few and far between, had given him enough incentive to treat her with the standard casualty reserved for his inner circle.
His relationship with Nesta, however, was strenuous at best. And Mother above, he'd be lying if he'd claim he wasn't at least a little bit intimidated by her. Nobody knew exactly what the Cauldron had brought forth, what she'd taken from it, but he shuddered at the sheer thought of just how deep that power ran, even with the Cauldron being unmade.
She had changed, that is all anyone could conclude. And he saw the weight of that change on his mate's shoulders as well as her sister's. It was frustrating for an outsider to behold at the best of times.
There was a moment's hesitation before he willed himself to knock on her door. Not for fear of being faced with her, but concern for the state he would find her in. He'd seen it in Feyre, those long months after Under The Mountain. The trauma eating away at her, her mind as well as her physical body wasting away. But at least he'd managed to get her back on the track to recovery. With Nesta? He could only try.
First things first. He had to make another attempt to get her to warm up to him. To involve her. He owed the sisters, all three of them, that much after what they'd been through.
#moondevoured#[hiiii omg i have to apologise in advance;#i've not fully read acosf yet#feel free to spoil my silly bum for not being fast enough lolll]#[i'm also going to skip over the toxic blaming of her for letting feyre go out to hunt#feyre is her own person with her own choices and not nesta's responsibility whoop]
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he would have married her. he suspected, as they stand side by side overlooking the milling crowds of this place beneath the mountain, a court of self proclaimed nightmares; that he would have probably grown to love her. eris vanserra is a man who does not love easily, reserved for the few, harshness and coldness are given to the rest. but, he is not without compassion. and nesta archeron is a woman who deserves both respect, and compassion.
‘ i suspect my brother burns more like the solar than i, but i accept the compliment nonetheless. ‘ a dip to his head as he inclines his gaze to her. profile turned to the crowds as he moves to focus on her alone. lucien recently was recognised as heir to the day court, his golden light more sun than fire. but eris cannot pretend he didn’t know. or that he begrudged his mother a moment of peace or joy she’d found.
fingers flex as he moves, offering an arm — ‘ shall we terrorise the masses? i suspect a rumoured alliance might cause quite the stir. and the night court lord seems too smug for my liking. ‘
what’s a little good natured antagonism between court allies after all? there is no expectation, no demand, only an offer. he may be allied with the night court for the eventuality of disposing of his father. but he will be an ally if she wishes it.
look at you, glowing like a solar fire. // eris & nesta // @moondevoured
#eris vanserra // interaction#answered // feel free to turn into threads if inspiration strikes#moondevoured#idk i needed to write something so have this
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-- @moondevoured get's an au starter !
it was over. the silence after such battle was a sound , even after the many years since their own , that one did not get used to. a hollowness that clung to the blood soaked battle field. the grunts of survivors gasping a welcome breath , groans of those who lay upon the doorstep to the afterworld , and the clattering of shield and sword overpowering the stale air around where aelin stood beside her mate. looking outwards , how the blood of both friend and foe melded in with the mud of the earth , it pulls her back for a moment. back to a time when it was her own people who lay there in the muck. the armor of many allies that had come to her aid gleaned against the sun’s breaking rays. as if he knows , can see what she sees , the hand of the towering fae beside her reaches only in silence to grab hold of her hand. a wordless reminder that the view she peered out upon was not their home. that they had won their war , just as prythian had reigned victory in their own.
exhaustion looms , the lingering burnout only adding to aelin’s own tiredness as she turns to look into the pine green eyes above. a confirming nod is all he provides as the two depart from where they stand , moving to rejoin the camp below. the eyes that momentarily turn their way a varying shade of hazel or brown clashing against the black armor they still wore. the wings , that was the strangest sight to behold. oh how different they were although their core of their worlds both gleaned in magic. looking upon them long did not last however as the two came to the overly large tent erected in the heart of the camp itself. but before aelin could make her stride within , regrouping with not only her own friends but her allies from this world , it is the hue of a grayish blue that pulls her attention. ❛ go in without me , i’ll be right back. ❜
departing from her mate’s side , armor of her own trudging through the muddy terrain moves her closer to the outlier standing outside the tent. her appearance , it was so similar to that of feyra’s that there was no doubt that they were related in some way. but the gleam in her eyes spoke a different call. one aelin knew of all too well from her own past. ❛ they always preach that the battle is the hard part , they never take into account the aftermath . . . ❜
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@moondevoured sent: “i spiked the egg nog.”
" please, tell me rhysie is taking some of this spiked eggnog. "
of course his first reaction would actually be him, asking if the lord of the night court did drink it. people would be shock. but kol? no. he wasn't. especially when he is mad at himself for not thinking about it first. nesta and kol loved to be menace to this man. how could they not? especially when he isn't really loving it when both of them were around each other. there is always mischiefs happening when kol was with nesta in a room.
" i want to see it with my own eyes so i can actually says it when we all fight like, remember that eggnog??? it was good wasn't it??? "
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@moondevoured
lucien can't seem to remove his gaze from the woman across the room. black silk fabric clung to her every curve, leaving nothing to his own imagination. he stood tall against the wall, drink in hand as others spew nonsense in his ears; he wasn't truly paying attention. nesta. as he kept on his gaze, the more he grasped she wasn't herself. perhaps, she looked lonely? a face he had never known. pushing himself off the wall, he crosses the dance floor to her with a goal in sight. when he approaches, he offers a smile. "care for a drink?"
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Initially I followed you out of curiosity because it seemed like you were doing something different with Kol and I’m so glad I did! You do have a really well thought out portrayal of him which adds a little extra flesh to his character - but I also really enjoy watching you interact with the muses (and muns) he has bonds with. You all bring a lot of fun to my dashboard and have been a highlight the past few days!
P.S. You’re also super creative in a way I find impressive.
P.P.S. I could have led with this but you’re a lovely person.
please tell me anonymously or not why you follow me. I could use some positive messages.
first of all, how dare you coming here and make me cry? this is the sweetest thing ever. if we have to confess, we love to see nesta and your multimuses on the dash too. we can see that you love your muses and put thoughts and tears into the art you are bringing around the rpc and we cannot wait but plot the things we have plotted on discord. because nesta and kol are going to be the end of the high lord of the night court. ( kissy kissy to rhysie. )
ps: you are incredible and we are keeping you around
pss: i love you and you are such a nice person too and i'm glad to call you a mutuals. / @moondevoured.
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☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs - it's time to spread positivity ! (nevermind the fact that nesta and rhys are going to fight in the streets for the rest of their lives)
amy i love u the most ❤️
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❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜
inbox prompts ( always accepting ) ;
,’ gaze immediately drops to his clothes that were , in fact , covered with small stains of blood here and there . he shrugs and purses his lips before his eyes are set on the other again , although there was no emotion resulting from the observation . “ i don’t think you’d like me to share the details . ” there was something scratching in the back of his head though , something he would go as far as to silence in his own head — a mental note to clean himself up next time , he didn’t like the way nesta looked at him when she was face to face with hard proof of the less than pretty things he did as a vampire . “ you called , i am here , what is it ? ” subtlety was really not his forte .
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❛ i can’t imagine losing someone like that. i’m sorry. ❜ / re: his mum and sister
❝ Yes, you can. ❞ His voice was soft, barely audible, and even so much as cracked as he resumed in answer to the leniency she had just given him. The smallest peek of emotion from behind her thick curtain of self-preservation.
❝ I know you can, Nesta---and for what it's worth...I'm sorry, too. ❞
His apology was a little more personal than the one she had conveyed. He had played an active, though not entirely willing, part in putting the Archeron family in harm's way, and he truly was sorry for it.
How they had stumbled onto the particular topic was beyond him; it was almost as though their conversation had taken place somewhere outside of time and space, and everything had gone by in a blur. That, at least, was something he recognised. Dissociation. A temporary detachment from reality, when reality itself had become too surreal to bear.
He was certain she'd felt it too, and for the first time in all the time he had known her, he finally saw her---truly saw her, for who she was and the atrocities she had been through. And even then, he knew it was only the tip of a very large iceberg that lay hidden in the blackest and most impenetrable of waters. Waters that she had consistently refused to let anyone wade through, for fear of exposing herself. For fear of being weak. Nobody in their right mind would ever think Nesta Archeron to be weak, but that was beside the point.
He wondered, then, if it would disturb her, enrage her, that he'd made a link of sorts, picked up on a hint of something in her words. Swallowing away the hesitation that lingered on tense lips, he pushed a little bit further, just to see if she would be willing to venture there with him. Into weakness, into vulnerability. For the both of them.
The room shifted as he lowered the shields he held up on a day-to-day basis, ever so slightly, wings sloping down from his back and more shadows than the natural light could produce dancing across the room where they held their conversation.
❝ I know you have felt loss beyond comprehension. And--- ❞
There it was again, the hesitation. But it had to be addressed; even though their decisions had seemed like the correct course to steer towards, they had been wrong. She had deserved better, and they had failed her, on more than one occasion. Cassian had even attempted to point this out to him, and he had been too caught up in his own affairs to notice. To notice the similarities, and how she was just another lost child left to fend for herself. His mother would have taken her in. But he had not been able to see past the transgressions that he had labeled her with from the start. Transgressions towards his mate, shallow judgements made from one-sided stories.
❝ I also know you were treated unfairly in the face of it. For that, I am truly sorry. ❞
He allowed the silence to engulf him entirely for a moment as his mind ran ragged with thoughts. Yet in spite of that, his posture remained open, if not slightly defeated at the memory of the fate that had befallen his mother and sister, long ago. But there was no hint of the aloof persona he would usually put up, no arrogance to match the walls that she no doubt still held up for him. Peace. Peace and quiet, was all he had ever really wanted.
❝ She would have admired you, you know. For your strength, for your perseverance in the face of everything awful. ---And she would have scolded you for hiding yourself. ❞
She who, despite rules and prejudice, had fought to remain free to be wholly herself. To fly over the city whenever she pleased, without the voices of men to condemn her or their scarification to prevent her from ever doing so again. She, who in life, had held so much likeness to the woman before him now. And yet...one major, troublesome difference.
❝ As fond as I am of the shadows---you do not need to remain hidden in them. ❞
#moondevoured#she burns cold ˚‧⁺ ・ ˖ · nesta#WELL this got longer than i expected/intended#obviously i have ~feelings~ on the matter
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he remembers the first time he was allowed into this city. this magical place that felt like it couldn't be real because nothing this good could survive. he'd felt like maybe it would be a place to heal, a place to grow -- but those dreams had been crushed. along with his dreams. lucien had fallen in love before, a vibrant and beautiful woman who never had made him feel anything less than chosen -- beloved. and he was content, that she was the love of his immortal life.
of course his father and brothers had other plans, and so had the cauldron. and what was left of his heart had broken. he'd never get to choose love again. he would be bound by this biological need. the desire to please a mate to the end of reason. so -- he did the least he could do, and obeyed her wishes. this meant she needed space. and he found that space dulled it too.
but when his reports were due, he came a few times a year to the court. usually avoiding any place where elain couldn't escape him easily, and definitely not sleeping in one of the lovely guest bedrooms. that meant tonight - he was at a rather skeevy looking pub in the city. it wasn't bad by any means, but it wasn't exactly rita's.
nursing a rather large tankard of supposed 'autumn' ale -- he plans on drinking enough that the table will serve as a decent pillow. his plans however are interupted by the elder sister of both his friend, and his supposed mate. nesta archeron --.
' i'm too many tankards in to exhibit the proper amount of fear -- but feel free to stare if you wish. i can actually get more pathetic if given enough time. '
lucien & nesta // @moondevoured
#lucien vanserra // interaction#moondevoured#i was supposed to be in drafts#look what u made me do xoxoxoxo
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– @moondevoured get's a starter !
the way the sun set over the mountain expanse behind the kingdom's heart , illuminating the city within , that never failed to calm whichever raging thought plagued aelin in that moment. the world she had promised , one that would not just be better than the last , but a haven to those lost in the darkness. a kingdom built as one she once wished she had. it was why she brought nesta with her that evening. a friend from another world that felt , at times , as if they were merely two souls from the same womb separated by fates. ❛ i know your home is prythian . . . ❜ eyes of blue encasing gold turn to meet the others gray. ❛ but you also have a home here. for however long or short you need it. ❜ it’s then does aelin’s smile grow to a smirk at the outer croppings of her lips. ❛ besides , if this book is as steamy as you say , i will need the next. ❜
#moondevoured#┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 𝘘𝘜𝘌𝘌𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘙𝘈𝘚𝘌𝘕 › verse#soft moments after all the HELLS nesta went through today
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❝ gods and mortals never mix happily in our stories. ❞ / @moondevoured sent a MEME
"There's a saying, where I'm from, that my family is closer to gods than men. I do not know if that is true, for it has only ever been said because of our dragons, which we do not own, but it does not change how we are viewed." The dragons that answered to them, mostly, and were loyal to those they allowed to bond with them. His bond with Vermax was special - his dragon had hatched in his cradle, when he was less than two. They had practically grown up together.
"We are not immortal, as the fae are, so perhaps that view would change were the fae to come to my lands. It might ruin our ruling status though." He adds, a smile on his face. Of course, one had ventured that way, which is the only reason he had learned of this place, flown his dragon here. Perhaps it was that magic, the magic of Old Valyria, that had allowed him to circumvent some of their own protections, allowed him passage. "A thought that our ability to ride dragons, to command them, gives us some other power is almost a ridiculous notion, when set beside the abilities of the fae, I suppose."
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cassian night has been out - all night. and while he does in fact smell of spilt liquors, sweat, and several unknown bodily fluids not of his own creation -- he is still in a cheerful mood. after all, being a bouncer at the most exclusive nightclub in town isn't the dream job necessarily, but it is an honest living. and it means that he gets to sleep for the next eight hours, and then wake up and do it all over again. and after the last tour of service? he'll take drunk hen parties over active duty any time.
he's stopped at his favourite local coffee spot, sipping his dirty chai latte with a double shot of espresso -- just strolling through the park district. it's the autumn season, and while he'd avoid this place like the plague in spring, the autumn? it's his favourite. the crunch of leaves beneath the big black kick ass boots he wears makes him feel nearly giddy. the smile that lights his face as he nods at the little old ladies who are feeding the pigeons as they do nearly every day. and then the nannies and their charges bundling off to daycares and exclusive schools.
most are familiar by sight, though he only knows the name of a few. a hum as he sips his drink slowing his walk to enjoy the crisp breeze that stirs the unrly crown of curls. he isn't sure how long he's lost in the enjoyment of that moment - but a voice draws him out of that reverie.
great brown eyes turn towards the voice, there's a rasp to it, a huskiness that speaks of -- unspeakable things in soft illuminated rooms with satin sheets and light glittering through the drapes -- he hears the words now.
wait there -- good boy. ( @moondevoured ) says.
' yes ma'am -- ' ever the good soldier replies. instinct more than thought fuels the action.
and the grin widens, a flash of teeth as he cocks his head - inadvertantly doing just as that siren's voice as told him. stopping. there. in the middle of the sidewalk, sipping his drink, waiting for whatever that voice might tell him to do next. of course the not idiotic part of his brain is shrieking that it's not about him -- but he isn't listening to that part. no -- instead his gaze is finding her. slim and well built, a woman stands there with her dog, the dog having clearly had designs on one of the wandering well fed pigeons.
cassian can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him -- he doesn't care he's just made a fool out of himself. but -- there is a flush that rises up his neck.
' do i get a treat? if so -- i have a request. '
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@moondevoured
"I'm cold, Nessa." She wasn't really, aside from the little feet that had pattered across the marble flooring of their mansion's lavish landing in order to reach her older sister's room. But the company of her sister always made her sleep that much more soundly, and trying to obtain a spot in her bed had become a bit of a habit now. Some nights, she knew Nesta would begrudgingly give up the comfort of her spacious bed to accommodate her younger sister curled up next to her, whilst on other days, she would send her back to bed with promise of other times of shared comfort to come. Little did they know that there would be many times of shared beds, where moments of comfort would be few and far between.
---
"Nesta, I'm cold---I can't shake the cold..." Her teeth had been chattering for well over an hour, and despite having the luck of being in the middle, between her two sisters, for this night, there was just no warming up, no winning the eternal race against the icy cold of winter that seeped through the cracks of their cottage. No matter what, it always seemed to catch up with her. And once it held her in its icy grasp, the cold would seep into her bones and settle there until every part of her ached. Pressing herself further against her older sister, Elain clenched her jaws tightly together.
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you. Could you just---"
Nesta's warm breath washing over her was a good remedy against the wintery chill. Perhaps the only remedy she'd found; the fire had crackled out, their father asleep in front of it, and with no more wood to fuel it, they would have to wait until the next day to gain a true semblance of warmth again.
---
Cold. So very, very cold. Not just her body, her very soul was cold now, her heart stilled, her breath frozen in her lungs, and she couldn't speak, couldn't hear, couldn't see. Everything around her was black now, a deeper, darker black than anything she'd ever experienced. And then the ice, Mother Above, the ice that ran through her veins---she opened her mouth to scream, but no sound emerged. Death gripped her, and she was deconstructed, piece by agonising little piece, until she was nothing but essence of the girl once known as Elain. The Cauldron stilled for the briefest of moments, marveling as it does with all Creation, and it gifted her with something in exchange for the marvel of her life. She could see. She could see so very far now.
---
"It's been cold without you."
She doesn't know why she says it like that, nor does she know if the message will even reach its intended goal or simply fall on deaf ears, but she has to try something. There was a point where she would have simply let the situation be, where she would have focused on her own pretty little things and pastimes in order to avoid confrontation...and she has been doing that, for far too long now.
It's taken quite a bit of time for her to come to that conclusion, and it takes even more conscious effort to not fall back into the same patterns, but she's on the right track. So is Nesta, she knows for a fact. But too much has happened between the two of them to just address that out in the open, out of nowhere. And so, she pushes past her habit of making herself scarce and busying herself with inconsequential things, in favour of what truly matters. Her sister.
She doesn't know a better way to say it. She can't outright say it. But it's written on her face nonetheless.
I miss you, Nessa.
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evil? depends who you ask.
" we can work on the evil part. it will come with times i'm sure. especially when you are around me for more than twenty four hours a day. " / @moondevoured.
#moondevoured#the fact that she is willing to kiss him with blood on his lips#but not being evil????#he loves that.#in character. : answered.
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TUCK, ROLL, REPEAT. a giggling nyx can barely catch his breath as his father rolls around on the floor like a lunatic. he's finally sitting up, able to counteract the weight of his growing wings. he's been working on his back muscles and they've been practicing together. months have passed and rhysand has finally come to terms with the fact he's had to take care of himself.
they still haven't left the house of wind but rhys has found that family has been the best healing medicine. azriel has held him as he's cried, cassian has brought food and forced him to eat, and elain has baked most of it. nuala and cerridwen have come at night to attend to nyx when rhys was in the heart of depression and nesta needed to sleep.
they don't speak of much other than nyx and rhys has been trying to distance himself from her. . . but his son loves his aunt more than anything in the world.
" you. are. perfect. " rhys laughs, poking nyx in the stomach. his tiny wings flap as he tries to bat at his dad's hands. the smell of dinner wafted through the air and rhys sat up, checking the time - he needed to take it off the fire oven at five. it was close.
his mind reached out, searching . . . he found her. @moondevoured nesta, i've made dinner tonight if you'd like to join us.
rhys grins back at his son again, beginning to roll around on the floor once more. his dark hair was a mess, the top four buttons of his shirt undone. since having nyx, rhys found himself dressing far more casual than ever. still fancier than most, but at least no more elaborate outfits.
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