#nightstriumph

[kaerinio]

@manupropria / @nightstriumph approached her grace: oh my god. for the “if they had a kid” meme, do one for Rhys AND Az.

name: saerena, known affectionately as seren or saera (pronounced as sera). we got the targaryen spelling going on here. gender: female general appearance: the first thing one may notice about seren is her grace; there is something graceful, controlled, unhurried in how she moves, something graceful in her very demeanor, and her beauty is the same. there is an elegance that accompanies her beauty . . . a regality. in seren, you can very distinctly see daenerys and rhysand: she has rhysand's straight nose, expressive brow, his jaw and daenerys' wide eyes, high cheeks, lips, and chin. like both her parents, she's a firm mastery of her expressions, but more often than not, she, like her mother, maintains a serene visage. seren's hair is blue-black, like her father's, near iridescent, and it flows and tumbles around her in great curls. she, like both her parents, has violet eyes, but like rhysand's, they've a blue-ish, almost periwinkle shade to them, and they're filled with revolving constellations. she's tall, standing perhaps a head below her father, but towering over her mother. she has illyrian wings that can be summoned, and she loves, loves, loves to fly! her ears are pointed and pierced, and she has one piercing configuration that features a constellation that was in the sky the night her parents met (she's very sentimental). her septum is pierced, her favorite ring being gold with an opal. as you can imagine, she has tattoos symbolizing bonds and promises, particularly with friends. in terms of clothing, seren wears the typical night court fashion, favoring crop vests, trousers, intricate skirts, and slippers in her everyday, and impossibly float-y gowns for formal events.

personality:  oh, she's a dreamer. as a child, seren's favorite words were imagine and what if. one could say it's a wonder that why wasn't a favorite of hers, but the answer is simple: to ask why was never enough for her, as the other side of the why felt too final for her, too narrow. she has always aimed to look wider, to dream bigger. phrases like it has always been done this way have never satisfied her. and she has learned from both her parents the richness of curiosity, the vibrancy of exploration and adventure, and the gift of openness. while she's able to stay present, there is always some piece of seren deep in imaginative thought. in fact, you can tell when she's not fully present; she's a tell . . . rubbing her bottom lip with her index finger, back and forth and back and forth. she's not overwhelmingly serious, though! she has a scathing wit, revels in new experiences and adventures, and is willing to take calculated risks. but, she is hard on herself. being the child of rhys and daenerys, revolutionary and legendary figures in their own rights, weighs on her shoulders. she often jumps at any opportunity to be a champion, desperate to prove that she is worthy of her parents, and this imagined expectation can be blinding (she has a habit of overextending herself). special talents: touched by night, she inherits her father's power, and interestingly, some new power seems to arise from both rhys and dany: dream-walking. it's no secret that dany has prophetic dreams/is constantly wrapped up in prophecy, and something about this meeting rhysand's daemati powers creates this new power in seren. she's also a beautiful singer, like her uncle rhaegar, and loves to play the harp and craft epic poems to go along with her sweet melodies. and, ofc, she's skilled in combat, favoring a pair of curved swords. who they like better: rhysand. this one is tricky because she is close with both of her parents; she treasures and cherishes the bond she has with the two of them. but, i would say that there is a piece of seren that does feel closer to rhys. there's the proximity aspect that plays a part here. for instance, inheriting rhys' power, it's rhys from whom she learns its mastery. and with her wings taking an illyrian shape (rather than a more draconic shape), she learns to fly with rhys, who most likely catches her on her own night flights (as his mother caught him)! and . . . he just has so many wonderful stories, especially from boyhood. being so loved and cherished, she revels in hearing about how her own parents were loved and cherished. daenerys has some stories like this from girlhood, but not as many to share; these, seren treasures, like the rarest jewels. also sweet little bonus: seren has this beautiful kinship to rhys' mother through the stories. she's absolutely obsessed with her grandmother. 🥹 who they take after more: daenerys. okay, this one is trickier because she really is just like her momma and papa. she tries her absolute damndest to do good, to defend what she believes is right, to help as many people as she possibly can. her heart is golden, and she has this increased sensitivity to the plights of others, this incredibly deep empathy, and she is generous. but there's a line that ought not be crossed, lest one wishes to face the beast or the dragon (depends on the day). when you look at seren, you see a lot of daenerys in her actions, her expressions, her speech. there's a very particular rhythm and cadence with which she speaks, so reminiscent of daenerys. when she stands, she has this very open way of presenting herself. her face is always serene. her actions gentle, her eyes kind, soft. personal headcanon: her first word was a command: "up". it was directed at cassian.

[bloodofthefates]

x. this is all Rhys's fault #5,687 \\ @nightstriumph

Despite the late hour, the light glowing from the lamp-like bobbing orbs was enough to cast her shadow alone the multicolored surface of the moonstone floors of the mountaintop palace. It wasn't one of Rhys's residences she preferred, feeling liked they weren't entire allowed to be their true selves here with the weight of the Court of Nightmares dangling just underfoot but Feyre was glad for its isolation. Not nearly as intimate as the cabin, she enjoyed the openness here and felt like she could breath deeper when in need of a stolen moment away from the demands of protecting Velaris. Wisps of light gossamer fabrics trailed behind her as she walked barefoot along the low-lit hall, each color of the opalescent walls and floor refracted in the material's sheen. Feyre had sensed that Rhys was still awake, although barely just when she'd awoken along in bed and gone in search of him. Coming to the space he claimed as a makeshift study, she slipped inside of the space to find him hunched over his desk heavily distracted and clearly in deep thought. "I thought we came here to take a break from everything else..." She cooed softly, a sleepy smile spreading across her lips as she came to stand at his side, hand sliding into place across his shoulders as she squeezed affectionately in an attempt to draw his attention away from whatever was troubling him and instead directing it toward her.

[ircnwrought]

✨ say nice things about me. // @nightstriumph

no …

… jk ❤️ you know i adore you and can’t tell you no. i can’t narrow down to just one thing so I’ll cheat and give you two. first, i literally can’t put into words just how much our friendship means to me. you are so easy to talk to and so kind that you make this space such a positive experience. second, the way you write is hands down some of the most gorgeous prose I’ve read. it’s poetic and emotional and such a wonder that I’m always left wanting more. thank you for being on this ride with me !! we’re a package deal

[starseternelle]

an angsty memory au starter for @nightstriumph i should be sorry but i'm not ily

__________🏹      TAMLIN'S     WORDS     HAVE        OPENED        A        CHASM     IN        HER        CHEST        SHE        CANNOT        QUITE        CLOSE.      you    will    always    be    used    for    your    power,     feyre.        can    you    not    see    it    ??     what    a    boon    it    would    be    for    a    court    such    as    night    to    count    the    cursebreaker    amongst    their    number     ??      (     how   else   can   she   understand   why   rhys   tries   so   hard   to   appease   her     ??      she,     who   killed   their   kind   with   hate   in   her   heart.        she,     who   would   be   forgotten   in   history   if   not   for   the   power   given   to   her   in   death.     she,     who    is    haunted    by    the    blood    of    innocents    that    now    stain    her    hands    unmistakably    red     )     the   jasmine   scented   breeze   that   had   once   brought   her   comfort   to   announce   his   arrival   now   only   coils   nausea   in   the   pit   of   her   stomach.     there   is   no   light   in   her   eyes,     as   she   pushes   away   from   the   table  &&    begins   to   walk   away   from   the   curling   shadow.     it    begs    her    to    turn    around,     the    static    crackling    along    her    skin    in    alert.     she    ignores    it.     ❛     you've   had   a   wasted   visit.     we're   busy   preparing   for   the   tithe   today.     ❜

[bigdaddydaemon]

calloused hands , palms worn and rough from decades of wielding a blade , rest atop the pommel of his blade , one over the other. violet eyes survey the man before him ──── dark hair , tanned skin , clad in clothing as dark as the tunnels beneath the red keep. were he to guess , daemon would suspect him a dornishman , but the striking hue of his eyes causes the prince’s thoughts to stumble. he possesses eyes so similar to those of house targaryen , but there is no known history of house targaryen members coupling with the dornish. his brow knits , eyes narrowing , though he stands without a care in the world. the man does not seem like an immediate threat ──── daemon has no doubt that he could fell him if need be , but would it be worth the waste of his time and energy ?

“ i've heard tales of your exploits . impressive , if they're true , ” @nightstriumph utters.

daemon cocks a brow , the corner of his lips twitching upward in amusement. if they’re true , the man says. the rogue prince’s name was known across westeros , and in much of the free cities ; he rides the beast known as the blood wyrm , wields the blade forged for queen visenya. he has been in many a battle , felled hundreds of men , and the fucker has the audacity to question the truth behind the tales ?

a chuckle escapes him , no longer able to hold it back. “ what need might there be for these tales to be false , might i ask ? ” in the distance , he hears the familiar clicking of caraxes. has he sensed his bonded’s annoyance ? “ i have no issue proving my strength to you , if you so desire , but i don’t typically make a habit of embarrassing small folk. ”

[salvatoraes]

MOST OF THE TIME ( hehe love u )

YES , rhys is annoying sometimes ( affectionally ) <3 ( love u too )

[gccdstories]

@nightstriumph sent an ask to (Feyre) //

You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.

Feyre turned from the mirror, the light sparkling off of the silver circlet atop her head. It caught the light blue jewels just right, perhaps, in its own bit of magic. Like the rest of the world wanted to highlight her in that moment.

The gown, as dark and beautiful as the night sky itself, slipped around her as she'd turned to face her mate.

And Feyre smiled.

❝ Is that so? ❞ she whispered, a hint of teasing in her voice as Feyre approached him. ❝ And what if I have no interest in either the madness of saints or the knees of kings? ❞ A quirk of her eyes, showing the sparkling depths within them, focused on Rhys right then.

[wickedpeachie]

❛  you mean you wish to surrender to me ?  ❜ ( for feyre )

Her features knit together in frustration at his verbiage. She never wanted to surrender to another High Lord. Never wanted to be forced to sit on a small chair at his side, or pick out colors for whatever idiotic ball was next on the long list of things a Lady of court must do. Feyre had fangs and claws and they were eating her alive in Spring Court.

"If that is what it means for escape, yes" Her gaze is locked on the tip of his shoes, refusing to meet his gaze. What if he refused her? Where else would she turn? To her sisters? The thought made bile rise in her stomach. She had no home, no place of sanctuary. Feyre wonders if she should beg, if that would appeal to his senses if he saw her on her knees asking for him to offer her refuge.

Feyre doesn't budge an inch. Instead her gaze lifts to meet his, as if they were equals.

"I'll surrender to you, Rhysand"

[kaerinio]

@nightstriumph approached her grace: hold his head. please. if only for a moment.

a moment. they’ve only a moment before tent flaps part, and one guest becomes another, becomes another, becomes another. war : what a greedy beast, merciless in its inclination toward devouring time, and impatient, too. it waits not for lovers, and thus, these minutes ( minutes, yes ) where they may luxuriate in one another, are so very dear. “rest, my love,” comes the comfort, lilting, and as lulling as the palms smoothing down the collar of his tunic. “if only for a minute or two. the world will not fall to ruin in that time, i promise you,” she whispers, teasingly adding, i should like to think it would take at least three minutes for all our hard work to come undone. how sweet, that soft curve of her lips, delighted at the soothing weight of his head upon her lap. how adoring, that lean, which has her hovering above, absolutely relishing in him.

the night bows before him and darkness answers his call, and yet, here, he shines for her : a star twinkling, rays reaching to capture hopes and wishes and dreams, while vowing to preserve such yearnings. he burns, as she does, but he does so radiantly ( and ruthlessly ; there is nothing he would not give to save his people ; he would tear himself asunder, if it assured their prosperity ; she loves him for this, fiercely, and for so much more ).

now, she allows the chaos of their world to lay forgotten upon a table. if only for this moment, she will shine for him. she will capture his hopes and cherish his yearnings ; she will save him, if only in this moment.

a gentle hand descends, pressing against the dark locks crashing along the planes of his forehead. his hair is mussed, having been loosened, no doubt, by hours of tugging with map-stained fingers. intent, she brushes the shadowy strands back : once, twice, thrice, until a languid rhythm forms. all the while, free fingers rise, featherlight, to glide along his features. devotedly, she traces the slope of his nose, smooths a brow, caresses lips she is all too tempted to capture with her own, before grazing across the peak of an elegant cheekbone to settle upon a pointed ear. the edge of her index finger arcs, memorizing the shape. a moon-kissed braid shifts when she tilts her head, inviting a beautifully crafted bell, wrought in the form of an eight-pointed star, to sing. “would you like to hear a story?”

[littlequeens]

@nightstriumph asked: 🔪  -  a  starter  where  my  muse  kills  to  protect  your  muse.  ( add + reverse  for  your  muse  to  kill  to  protect  mine ) ( + reverse, for nesta )

nesta screams, throwing up her arms to shield herself from the dirt and debris. a loud bang! resounds through her skull before something barrels into her–– no, someone, pushing her down onto the cold concrete. his body covers her, protecting her. and in a blink, quietness settles over them. nesta shifts, tentatively at first, before shoving rhysand off her and scrambling away. she thought she'd ditched him.

❛ what do you think you're doing? ❜ she snaps, completely disregarding the fact that he'd just saved her life.

[bloodofthefates]

x. given what i just saw out there, i think your training is complete. you saved my life. ( nesssstaaaa ) from @nightstriumph

Battles could be practiced. They could be rehearsed, broken down into theory and strategy and charted on a map with miniature figures as stand-ins for life with ink marking anticipatory moves to counter attack. Training regimens could be devised, physical workout plans followed meticulously to bolster both muscle and confidence but nothing could ever prepare anyone for the reality of war. Mass casualties, the indiscriminate loss of life and the brutality of violence was nothing that could be prepared for. Being responsible for it all was a weighted toll paid in guilt that could never be taught, or warned. Rhys called it training, viewing the entire thing as nothing more than completion of some kind of challenge or test as if it had been some last box to check off before giving her his vote of confidence as a fighter and a warrior. Nesta hadn’t realized she’d been fighting to earn anything from him, but the gratitude of saving his life sat in juxtaposition with the lives she’d taken by her own blade. Wordless tears welled up in her eyes despite the dirt and blood that covered her face and leather armor but she refused to let them fall until she drew close enough to the High Lord to bow her head in submission against his chest. “I would do it again… a thousand times if I had to.” She declared, her words coming out strong despite the initial vibration in her voice. A single solitary tear slipped through her defenses and rolled down her cheek to chin before falling to the earth planted at their feet, delivering Nesta’s sorrow as an apology for the balance of life and death she’d been charged with this day.

[ircnwrought]

what was amaya’s bargain with rhys? // @nightstriumph

given her age at the time of her disappearance, i think the bargain with rhys was her first. i also tend to picture her childhood as relatively isolated due to the fact that she was born a year before the war and what we know of their father's personality. there were likely few instances for her to interact with those her age or anyone outside of the court circle really. rhys had already left home and she spent most of her time with their mother. i think this translated itself both into an extremely curious, studious nature (an immense desire to understand things and how they work, something that serves her well as a spinner of illusions) as well as an immense desire to see the world and find her place in it.

i see the bargain as one of innocence and dreams. i think in her studious nature, she fell in love with the stars and charting them, in an attempt to make sense of the universe. since rhys is a star nerd, i like the idea that he saw her scribbling her notes and asked that she explain them and in true sibling fashion, she asked what he'd give her for them. in their banter, perhaps she asked him more seriously to commit to train her when he gets back from illyria or gets him to promise to take her flying beyond the mountains, beyond the court so she can see the world for once.

next time, he promises, he leaves for training in the morning, and she smiles a toothy grin at him. it's a bargain then. the tattoos bind them together. she'll see him in illyria in just a few weeks. there's time ( except there's not ) when she disappears, i imagine he finds her notes in her room and after the sting of the loss, those are the notes he uses to help built his little planetarium in his office. in her own way, she did keep her end of the bargain.

[starseternelle]

a starter for @nightstriumph !!

__________🏹      SHE IS ON HER WAY BACK TO THESAN'S PALACE, LUCIEN IN TOW, AS THE SURIEL'S WORDS THREATEN TO DROWN HER. there is so much truth she has shed && yet still more she needs to uncover if she has any chance of discovering all she lost in the months prior. storm grey gaze chances a sidelong glance to her companion, his attention firmly on the path ahead of him. he is a friend && yet held the fact that rhysand was her mate from her, that she dreamt of a life with tamlin that would simply be impossible to achieve. it guts her all over again && she thinks back to the violet hues from earlier in the afternoon, painted with agony && longing && ... -

🏹__________      THE VOICE OF THE ONE SHE IS THINKING OF CUTS ACROSS THE MENTAL BRIDGE BETWEEN THEM. tell me where to find you. she had not expected him to answer her call so quickly, so urgently. the bond has grown less taut as well. he is closer than before; he is seeking her. she stops, lucien turning to face her with questions written across his face. she needs to be rid of him if she is to talk to rhysand without eyes or ears intruding. only time will tell if she is making another foolish mistake. ❛   lucien, i need to do something on my own && you can't ask questions or come with me.  ❜ she is taking a chance. even if he had not trusted her with the truth, she hopes he trusts her with something dearer. ❛   if what i do works, we may be one step closer to bringing elain home.  ❜

__________🏹      A PART OF HER IS PRICKED WITH GUILT TO SEE HOW HIS FACE CRUMPLES. a heart, a chance of a future, a mate. she sees how his mind weighs whether his oath to tamlin means more than that. evidently, he comes to the conclusion that it does not, giving her a sharp nod. ❛   no one can know. especially not tamlin.  ❜ desperation laces her words && his face softens. despite everything, he gives her his word he will buy her the time she needs before disappearing in the woods in the direction of the council. after a few moments && satisfied that lucien is true to his word not to follow her, she retraces her steps back to the clearing where she had laid the trap for the suriel. " there's a clearing north of the palace in the foothills " instructions pushed down the bond as well as her view of the area to help guide him. she does not know why she thinks it will work, but she also pulls the bond, a ripple originating from her point in space. practically humming i am here, come find me.

[deathsconsort]

“ you don’t deserve the bad things that happen to you. you never did. ”

nesta was silently cursing her sister for leaving her alone in the room with rhysand. clearly this was some sort of setup the two orchestrated. earlier in the day feyre’s voice spoke into nesta’s mind, asking if she would come to the riverfront house for a visit because nyx wanted to see her. of course she knew an infant couldn’t request her, but she took the bait nevertheless, never denying a chance to spend time with her nephew. upon arriving feyre led her to the sitting room where rhysand was sitting on the couch. that’s when she first started getting suspicious. then her sister had declared there was some court matter she had to attend to and left the two of them in the room alone, closing the doors behind her. rhysand wanted to talk to her, but she was clueless as to what and why feyre wouldn’t partake in this conversation. her pleasant mood turned sour, she wasn’t in the mood to have a fight with him.

blue-gray eyes observed him, trying to gauge what this conversation was going to be about, but he was unreadable. she was beginning to sit down when he opened his mouth, but his words made her actually stumble and fall onto the cushion. out of all the things she thought he would say, that was the last thing she imagined. he sounded so sincere and gentle, it was such a rare occurrence for him to speak to her that way that she was taken aback. words failed her so she stared at him, not bothering to mask her dumbfounded expression. “what is my sister giving you for you to say this to me? or did you lose a bet with azriel or cassian?” because either of those things made more sense than him saying that out of his own volition. “i thought you out of everyone here believed i deserved every bad thing to ever happen to me and more.”

[chaosfable]

❛   gods . . .   ❜ hand resting on her chest as to still the hammering heartbeat below , asteria let's her gaze fall from her brother back to the book before her , closing it as she sat. should the look of surprise be as prominent on her face as it was given she knew sneaking from the warmth of the townhouse and to the cabin in the mountains at such an hour was not smart. the risk heightened by how little of days had past since her return to velaris. but asteria would be lying through her teeth if the filled home did not carry a feeling of suffocation with it. perhaps that was the downside of being isolated for so many decades. but the cabin , while it had been her downfall , it also was her comfort. at least , until rhys had arrived with such a look that it made the sister feel overwhelming guilty for running off. ❛   look , before you go into your lecture or what ever you have planned . . .   ❜ whatever it was she rightfully deserved. ❛   can you at least hear me out first ?   ❜

@nightstriumph liked for a starter from asteria

[folkorae]

✨✨✨

send ✨ if you like my writing and feel free to tell me why !!

Thank you so much! 🥺👉👈