#when i tell you this event has tortured me and my desire to share snippets i am not exaggerating one bit

[starfall-spirit]

AN: So, what if my patience is fried and I decided to post a couple of days ahead of schedule. Again, Happy Holidays to those who celebrate, but especially to @eat0crow, my giftee for the @acotargiftexchange! I have been plotting this from the moment I was given a name and have been so excited to share this fic with everyone. To those of you who enjoy mythology as much as I do, here's chapter one of my ACOTAR Secret Santa submission, the embellished retelling of Perseus and Andromeda.

Just before we get started, thank you so much @thelovelymadone and @reverie-tales for being amazing betas and soothing my doubts about the fic. Y'all are the best! 💕

Read on Ao3

Ancient Myths Retold Masterlist

Summary: An irksome trip to the Summer Court on matters of business and assistance against a threat at sea takes an interesting turn when Rhys discovers the solution to Nostrus' problem no longer lies with his army, but a female sacrifice, bound at high tide in hope of appeasing the beast terrorizing Nostrus' shores. He certainly never predicted the rescue mission would result in an accepted mating bond.

Chapter I: The Damsel & the Serpent

Rhysand

Rhysand had never felt so close to falling asleep at a meeting, and growing up in his father’s Court of Nightmares, that was saying something. At least there, brutality kept things from being uneventful. But here in the Summer palace, there was nothing to turn his stomach but overseasoned trout and the High Lord’s too-sweet wine. It was times like these he truly dreaded his looming title and birthright.

Suppressing a sigh, he maintained his mask, nodding along and smiling when necessary whilst making the remarks expected to establish he cared about the nonsense Nostrus was set on arranging. Small talk and an offering of reward for the high demand the male was procrastinating. Forces from the strongest army on their continent to subdue the creature butchering his soldiers and citizens. There was no bravery or gall in cooperating with the cruel court from the north. The male was just covering his ass and calling it an alliance.

But then, wasn’t that the truth of most deals?

Still, his desperation was clear, if the setting around him was anything to go by. High quality tapestries hung from each pillar making up the veranda they dined in, Not the typical everyday decor of the court. The dining table was set for something much grander than a business dinner, when one considered the fine linen tablecloth, crystal glasses, and polished silver.

If his father were present, Rhys was certain he’d be so amused by the effort he’d spend the evening toying with his Summer counterpart.

“Rhysand, I suppose I can’t beat around the bush forever. Would you consider—” Nostrus paused in his inquiry, his attention diverted by a member of his inner circle approaching the edge of the veranda. There was a nervous glint in the captain’s eyes as he scurried over to whisper in his High Lord’s ear, his voice almost quiet enough for Rhys to miss the short message delivered. “The Archeron girl has been captured. High tide is less than two hours away.”

Something twisted in Rhys’ gut, his protective instincts rising as he watched the High Lord’s jaw tighten. Apparently they wouldn’t be discussing the looming topic of the aid Nostrus needed so desperately. “Thank you.” Clearing his throat, he swiped his napkin over his mouth before standing. “If you’ll excuse me, Rhysand, perhaps we can finish this discussion in the morning. I have something rather urgent to attend to.”

“Of course, Nostrus. Tomorrow.” The moment the Summer males turned their backs he was past the flimsy mental shield the captain maintained. One glimpse was all it took to explain the tension the message brought. As Nostrus had wined and dined him, his second in command was sending an innocent female to her death. Rhys didn’t recognize her, and he’d been bred to accept any and all brands of cruelty, yet he’d sooner slit his own throat than let them succeed in killing her. 

He winnowed back to the guest room he’d been shown to earlier that day, finding his brother snooping about, as he expected. “Uh oh, I know that face,” Cassian said, smirking. “Who do I get to punch?”

“No one yet. I only know half of what’s happening. First and foremost, this will be a rescue mission. The punching can come later.”

Cassian paused, setting the trinket he was fiddling with back on the dresser. “Rescue? Rescue who, Rhys? What happened at that dinner?”

“A girl they mean to drown at high tide, a little over an hour from now. I need you to create a distraction.”

He grinned wider than ever. “How big a distraction?”

“Big enough to drag a High Lord away from the female he intends to murder this fine evening. And get us home before he can think about retaliating or sending blood rubies for stealing her away.” 

Cassian nodded, and despite the utter glee he found on his brother’s face, he knew he was in the mindset of a general. That ability to flip from fool to soldier so seamlessly was what put him above the others he'd grown up with in Windhaven, and another reason he would be in a position of command when Rhys eventually filled his father's shoes. Cassian tapped the siphons he had put back on his hands, nodding sharply as the dark armor rolled over his body, better to hide his position in the late evening. “You go find your damsel, Rhys. I’ll handle the diversion. Give me twenty minutes.”

He appreciated the fact Cassian hadn’t pushed for more information, or tried to talk him out of this. It was certainly crossing lines, meddling in another court’s business, but he had seen too many innocent people die for those who consider themselves more powerful. He didn’t need any more information than what he gathered in that glimpse behind the captain’s shield. It was enough to know staying out of the equation would damn him more than any meddling would.

He’d grant the female sanctuary, if she wished, and he highly doubted Nostrus was strong or stupid enough to push any harder, water beast be damned. At least, he hoped.

He winnowed to where the waves would reach highest, pausing when he heard the familiar voice of the Summer Lord. "Has running ever done any good?" The female beside him clenched her jaw, holding the High Lord's gaze. A brazen thing, Rhys could already tell. One who didn't apologize for actions she deemed appropriate. She didn't appear to be one to beg, either, even as the cold iron clamped down over her wrists and ankles and the ocean tide lapped at her bare legs. Simple enough for Rhys to unlock with a little magic. "Did you really think you could free yourself of this?" Nostrus pried, trying to get under her skin.

"I think it's pathetic you resort to this, killing innocents rather than face the beast born of your selfishness."

The sea serpent sated by sacrifice, one Summer citizen at a time. Rhys didn't bother denying his curiosity any longer, slipping into the female's mind. Deep down she was terrified, understandably, but above that was simple frustration. Her attempt to best the beast herself had only intrigued the creature, and she'd been deemed the next offering. She had run, to her shame. But when the entirety of her potential was to be fed to a monster or married off to another sort, running had seemed like the best option. Rhys withdrew after that, his attention returning to Nostrus who had ignored the jab, watching the waters begin to rise and churn. "High tide draws near. Any last words, Lady Archeron?" She turned her face from his grasp. "Pity. Here I thought you the most clever of your family. Very well."

"I've got a few for you, Nostrus." The girl snapped her gaze over her shoulder and his breath caught. She was truly the most beautiful female he'd ever laid eyes on, blue eyes shining beneath the moon, her golden-brown hair curling with the sea mist. A soft, blooming pressure began to grow in his chest, building, morphing into a glowing thread of gold. Wide-eyed, lips parted, Rhys knew she had recognized him as well. Imagined the future they were one step from loosing. "Get your hands off of my mate."

~~~~~

Feyre

Mates. It seemed like a rather insignificant detail in a situation where she was chained up as a sacrifice, and yet it was all she could focus on. Lady Luck must truly hate her if this was her fate. Meeting the most stunning man she'd ever laid eyes on—who looked deliciously feral with the need to protect her—and yet she was set to die only moments later. And she thought marrying a High Lord's son was the cruelest challenge she'd face.

Nostrus gave her mate a pleased smile. "She is a citizen of Summer until she meets her betrothed at the altar. With her as such, I still have the authority to demand that she... aid her court when necessary. But I'll tell you what. If you can get those chains open before the hunt begins, I'll let you sweep her off to Night. You would of course be responsible for breaking the news to her parents and fiance, but that's really of no interest to me. Good luck."

Her mate let out a soft growl as Nostrus winnowed away, but quickly refocused himself to assess the aged metal binding her to the rock. "They're warded or charmed or something," she said softly. "I have simple magic, enough to unlock things. If it were that easy to escape, the serpent would never eat." 

"Hey." He gripped her chin, raising her eyes to meet his at last, the peculiar violet of his eyes made all the more beautiful in the dark of night. "Tell me your name."

"Feyre Archeron."

"Feyre." Gods, the way that rolled off his tongue. "Feyre darling, no matter what happens in these waters, you will not die today. I won't allow it." She scoffed. Well, one certainly couldn't deny his hubris. "We'll talk about my hubris when the beast is dead, love."

"How did you—daemati—I knew you couldn't be entirely perfect."

"Feyre darling, you wound me." Before either of them could resume their banter the sea began to churn, an otherworldly shriek piercing the air that had her wishing she could cover her ears. Her mate, still nameless, to her displeasure, raised his weapon just before the sea monster broke the surface, rows of razor-sharp teeth bared as it reared up, catching the scent of its next meal. "It's Rhys, if you must know!"

"Get out of my head!"

He chuckled, winnowing and lunging faster than she could blink, drawing another ear-rupturing cry from the serpent as his sword found a weakspot between a cluster of dark scales. By the Mother, she felt worthless here, not that a bow and arrow would do her much good against a creature like that. Iron seemed much more suitable in this fight. Rhys really was marvelous to watch, his pattern of winnowing and striking had originally been an effort to distract the creature from her vulnerable position, but he had actually started landing solid blows, the churning waters—now level with her breasts—stained pink as the beast's blood was diluted. The rest happened in bits and pieces, yet all at once.

Twin blurs of gray raced over the body of the water serpent and up to it's massive head, summoning another roar, claws sinking into the soft flesh of it's glowing eyes. Wounded and with only its scent and poor hearing, if her research promised anything, the serpent had lost its advantage. 

The spell of her rising hope was broken as slimy, webbed fingers closed around her arms. She screamed at the feeling, drawing Rhys' attention. An unaffordable error, as the tail of the beast whipped across its body, throwing Rhys several yards to the left and under the waves. Gods, if he'd hit his head they'd both drown. A moment later he broke the surface to her relief, his attention torn between Feyre and the recovering creature he meant to fight with his sword, and apparently, shadow magic.

"Our repayment, Lady Feyre," one wraith hissed. "For your kindness at the Tithe." Miraculously, the four cuffs fell open.

"Thank you."

"Our sister's debt is repaid."

"Swim to shore!" Rhys barked. 

"But—"

"You have no weapon and your mind is not clear. I won't be focused either knowing you're in danger. Find my brother, on land. He has Illyrian wings and bears red siphons. He will help you."

Knowing she would only be a hindrance in this state, she obeyed, even as guilt weighed heavier and heavier with each step. She'd just reached shore when the massive tower at the center of the city—their most ancient monument—rained down in a blast of stone and sand, a red wave of killing power the only culprit in sight. 

This Illyrian was a dead man walking. 

She watched, wide-eyed and fearful for him as he took flight, the towns-people still in chaos. Only a moment later he landed beside her, scattering sand in every direction as he smoothed his shoulder-length hair back. "Judging by the fact you look just washed up, I'm guessing you're Feyre. The bastard finally found his mate," he marveled. 

"Go help him." His eyes widened. "You have a weapon. Go help him kill that—" One last crash of the waves revealed the creature sinking beneath the water, presumably dead at last. "He actually killed it."

Seconds later, Rhys winnowed to shore, landing between them. "The city monument?" he blurted. "You realize you will never be welcome here again, don't you?"

The Illyrian smirked. "That's alright. Too warm for my tastes anyways. I much prefer the north."

Rhys shook his head, smirking right back. "Come on. Let's go home."

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer

[birdhousematerial]

please tell me about 'Devotion' 🎤🎤🎤

I am so glad you asked about this one, because it is not only my favorite wip right now, but the project I will be picking up next, so it is very much on my brain. These snippets are roughs, but I don't mind sharing them, just wanted to make that known.

This one is Yuji x Megumi, and takes place in canon-universe, a long while after the events of canon. Long enough, that all the feelings between them continuing to go unspoken, starts to take its toll on Yuji— along with the left-over trauma of everything that he went through never being addressed. Yuji starts to feel a sort of resentment towards Megumi, that all this time he’s never really seemed to understand or care how much he’s sacrificed for him and even though Megumi certainly does and has feelings for him, he’s simply kept it all to himself with the hope of not ruining their friendship or burdening Yuji.

Torture and abuse, mentions of non-con, along with the consumption of blood under the cut, it’s not all that graphic but I thought I’d give a warning anyways.

Here's some of Yuji's thinking just to go along with that.

"It had been him who’d given Megumi the life he has now, his encouragement and loyalty, building him up for almost a decade while Megumi skirted around him and their feelings for each other. Calling him his friend, and treating him like anyone else, when Yuji held him on a pedestal, because he felt like he deserved that, deserved everything he had to give him.

It’d been years of this, Yuji capturing every little detail about him in his mind and practically worshiping him, while Megumi could hardly remember to return his text messages."

Then after Megumi comes back from a mission with his students injured, Yuji decides he’s had enough. He’s sick of not being acknowledged, and there are still so many thoughts that linger from Sukuna that torment him, so he puts them to good use. Yuji offers to make Megumi dinner at his house, inviting him over and deciding that if Megumi isn’t going to willingly see how devoted he is to him, then he’ll make him.

Megumi wakes up the next morning chained up in his basement, with no clue why he’s there or Yuji’s intentions behind it. Though he quickly finds that the levels of Yuji’s obsession with him is not limited to just them being together.

"He felt his chest expand harshly when he looked at the subcutaneous tissue exposed, the only hidden parts of Megumi he’d ever get glimpses of.

Muscle and blood, bone and tendons, intimate parts of him that felt like learning secrets, his blood whispering to him as he wiped it up from his arm, catching a bit on his thumb."

These are of course before he locked him up, but I feel like they're relevant when talking about just how obsessive Yuji has gotten over him, also, they're hot.

"Yuji felt warmth pooling in his gut as he pocketed the gauze instead of tossing it, a quick and subtle movement, before tasting him. He discreetly licked the blood off his thumb, and closed his eyes at the coolness of it against his tongue.

The fresh and sharp flavor of iron settled something in him, this desire to have, and to keep, sucking on his teeth as he walked back to Megumi, savoring the sweetness of something so divine, making him feel lightheaded."

Yeah, he's unhinged, and it's so much fun to play with.

Yuji's POV really sets the tone for the rest of the fic, which is from Megumi's perspective, and is him grappling with the fact that he does have feelings for Yuji, but not this version of him and his regret for not saying anything sooner, wondering how things could've been if he had.

Along with that though, is a slow and steady mind-break for Megumi, that if this is the version of Yuji that is going to love him—even if it is violent and heartbreaking for him to endure at times— he's going to give in to it. He's willing to accept Yuji even at his worst, if it means being loved, and for the chance that Yuji will one day let him out, so they can be together without him being restrained and tortured. (spoiler alert, that is not going to happen, he's a basement wife!)

“Today was rough,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and gazing down at him as he stepped down the stairs. “Your students asked about you and-.”

“What the fuck is this,” Megumi cut him off, feeling his pulse pounding in his neck at how nonchalant he was acting about all of this, staring at him incredulously when he took a deep breath.

“As I was saying, they asked about you and I told th-.”

“Yuji!” Megumi shouted, shaking his hands, the chains hanging from them rattling as he eyed him pointedly, not at all wanting to talk about his students or how Yuji’s fucking day went. He was well past that, hours ago, and could feel himself getting angrier when Yuji looked almost apologetic at him.

Yuji stepped closer to him, his pace quickening as Megumi looked up at his face, opening his mouth to start shouting again before feeling his cheek start to burn, the loud noise of skin hitting skin ringing in his ears. It took him a moment to process, before Yuji grabbed him tightly by the chin, his expression almost blank as he stared down his nose at him, eyes flitting over his.

“You’re going to listen when I’m speaking to you,” he spoke almost soothingly, his thumb smoothing over his cheek that felt like it was simmering from the force he’d slapped him with. Megumi felt more than stunned, staring into his eyes and feeling like he was dreaming, because nothing was adding up. “Please don’t make this difficult, I don’t want to hurt you Megumi.”

Yeah, and this is just the start. I've debated how far I'll take this, the more erotic scenes started out as just wound-fucking and some non-con plus pet-play, but honestly, I think I'll be diving very deep with this one. I do plan on giving Megs an opportunity to fight back, but with everything I've previously stated, you can imagine how that's going to go for him.

“You don’t mind sharing right? I think it’s a little romantic that way,” he smiled as he dished out a serving into the bowl, while Megumi clenched his jaw and debated fighting this. He couldn’t keep him here, and decided right then he would push until Yuji snapped out of this, whatever it was.

“Having my hands free to eat would be ideal,” he deadpanned, watching Yuji frown as he folded himself down on the bed again, straddling his legs before letting out a sigh.

“I’ll feed you, I don’t mind,” Yuji spoke cheerily despite his mask cracking, shrugging a bit before beginning to gather a bite for him with chopsticks.

“Yuji this is ridiculous, I-.”

It was too fast to process before blinding white pain shot through him, gritting his teeth, letting out a strained sound, leaning forward and glancing down to see the chopsticks, pierced through his upper thigh.

“I’m trying to be nice Megumi, hospitable, but you’re making it difficult,” Yuji narrowed his gaze at him as he craned his neck to be in his line of sight, staring down at his thigh that was now bleeding, groaning when he twisted the chopsticks in his grip. “Now, are you ready to share the food I lovingly cooked, for you?” he asked bitterly, as if Megumi was the one that had stabbed him.

If you're wondering if Yuji goes on to finger fuck that wound— and it totally turns Megumi on— you would be correct! Yuji has just become so obsessed with Megumi, with his blood and this idea that he needs to be in control of him, even when and how he's being injured, all under the guise of keeping him 'safe' and… man it's just so delicious to me.

Okay, I've yapped a ton about this one but I really am so excited to work on it more. It will definitely be one that I take my time on, mostly because of all the complicated emotions and erotic torture scenes, but it is at the top of my list after the project I am currently almost finished with.

Thank you again for pulling my string, I love talking about this fic and really can't wait to get it out ❤️ I love a darker Yuji and such a love-starved and desperate Megumi, that despite all of what Yuji is doing to him, he's still kinda 🫦🥺 about it. These are both versions of them that I wanted to explore and this was the result of that!