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witch-and-her-witcher · 1 month

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dripping in gold

feysand | T | female rhys, rewrite of summer court bedroom scene

inspired by staring at this art for all of my waking hours. thank you @popjunkie42 and @wilde-knight for the quick beta reads. <3

ao3

~*~

We were given a suite of connecting rooms, all centered on a large, lavish lounge that was open to the sea and city below. My bedroom was appointed in seafoam and softest blue with pops of gold —like the gilded clamshell atop my pale wood dresser. My finger slid across the golden lips, down into the soft, pink hollow of the ocean floor treasure thoughtfully, considering the odd shocks of emotions that continued to consume and confuse me when the High Lady touched me, looked at me with that cold steel gracefulness shot through with …

With what?

I couldn’t seem to name the emotion there: when Rhys angled her chin, tilted the planes of her face so her thick lashes shadowed that sultry violet gaze. Ever calculating, ever watchful, ever filled with something when I was in the room. Even when I was away, I could feel the weight of that look on me.

The white door behind me clicked open, and like a child caught with their hand where they didn’t belong, I quickly withdrew my curious fingertips from the inside of the clamshell. Rhys slid into my room.

She leaned against the door once she shut it, the top of her sleeveless black tunic unbuttoned to reveal the upper whorls of the tattoo spanning her chest, the muscled curves of her powerful shoulders and licking down her biceps, up the column of her neck. Ever drawing my eyes where I knew they shouldn’t go, where I shouldn’t want to stare with such … heat, at another female.

Confusion reared within me once more as haughty annoyance, but Rhys spoke as if she didn’t notice the battle that waged within me everytime she forced her proximity on me.

“The problem, I’ve realized, will be that I like Tarquin,” she said by way of greeting. Her thick black braid hung over her shoulder, curls framing her face, pulled out of place by the Summer humidity. “I even like Cressaeida.”

Gods, why couldn’t I look away from those fly-away hairs, the elegant halo they made in their quiet revolt against the High Lady’s commitment to a perfect image? My gaze flickered to the silver chain that hung just taut enough between the lapels of her tunic, revealing only teasing glimpses of the swells of her breasts.

Had the fawn skin there warmed the chain with the upwards press of each of Rhys’s rising breaths, or was it a cool shock to her skin everytime that sent shivers down her spine?

I clenched my fists against the traitorous thoughts.

“And?” I took up a spot against the dresser, where clothes that I had not packed but were clearly of Night Court origin had been already waiting for me.

Too much irritation bled through my tone.

The space of the room — the large bed, the windows, the sunlight — filled the silence between us as Rhys considered me with a predator’s intent.

“And,” Rhys said, “I want to find a way to do what you have to do without making enemies of them.”

It was impossible to focus with her so near, in my room, next to the bed, thoughts of my fingers gliding along the smooth flesh of the clamshell blurring with the wrong, wrong, places I kept thinking about exploring on Rhys, in Rhys.

Without thinking, I blurted, “I won’t ruin your chances with him by getting caught.” The sexual tension that had been heavy on my mind since we arrived in Summer, the charge I felt between us, I had to be misinterpreting it, misplacing Rhys’s own intentions with the Summer High Lord.

A well-placed match to ensure her place back in Prythian’s good graces, to have the Golden Boy as her lover. Surely. Surely that was what I was feeling. She was envious of the attention I was drawing away from her, that for our mission’s success I had to play her potential beau.

That damned head tilt. Then, “Do you like that Tarquin can’t stop looking at you? I can’t tell if it’s because he wants you, or because he knows you have his power and wants to see how much.”

“Are you jealous?” I asked, suddenly breathless under the intensity of her gaze.

“Why would I be? But having a High Lord lusting after you is a dangerous game.”

“First you taunt me with Cassian, now Tarquin? I can’t tell if you’re threatened by me or can’t find other ways to annoy me.”

Rhys prowled closer, and I steadied myself for her scent, her warmth, the impact of her power. She braced a hand on either side of me, gripping the dresser. I refused to shrink away, even when that confusing swell of desire pulsed between my thighs. “You have one task here, Feyre. One task that no one can know about. So do anything you have to in order to accomplish it. But get that book. And do not get caught.”

I wasn’t some simpering fool. Rhys was a female, for Cauldron’s sake! I had never been interested in a female, a woman, before, I had only been with males. And Tarquin was here, handsome with kind eyes and … Unimpressive, that taunting inner voice said without regard to my carefully smothered feelings of disregard where the Summer High Lord was involved.

Still.

There was no reason I should be so affected, so fraught with nerves and want that my thoughts seemed a scattered mess. I knew the risks. And that tone, that look she always gave me … “Anything?” Her brows rose. I breathed, “If I fucked him for it, what would you do?”

Her pupils flared, and her gaze dropped to my mouth. The wood dresser groaned beneath her hands. Her strong, capable hands I couldn’t stop thinking about on me, in me. “You say such atrocious things.” I waited, my heart an uneven beat. She at last met my eyes again. “You are always free to do what you want, with whomever you want. So if you want to ride him, go ahead.”

“Maybe I will.” Though a part of me wanted to retort, Liar. I had lost all reason, the most unholy thoughts swirling in my mind. It was only she, only Rhys, I wanted.

“Fine.” Her breath caressed my mouth.

“Fine,” I said, aware of every inch between us, the distance smaller and smaller, the challenge heightening with each second neither of us moved.

“I would be remiss,” she said softly, eyes like stars, “if I didn’t at least warn you that you’ll never find satisfaction under a High Lord.” She clicked her tongue in reproach, my eyes unable to do anything but watch the slight part of her mouth and the flick of her pink tongue. “Didn’t your time with Tamlin teach you anything? You’re too exceptional for them, Feyre. They’ll never know just how to please you, how to coax the sweetest sounds from you … Like sin and rhapsody all in one.”

“If not them, then who?” The sheer power of her enveloped me, shaking me awake. As if every nerve in my body had been set ablaze and only she existed in this world.

The salt and the sea and the breeze tugged on me, sang to me. She, she, she, each wave lapped.

And as if Rhys heard them, too, she inclined her head toward the clamshell on the dresser. “I know just what you desire, my darling Feyre.” With promise and clear intent, she purred, “I don’t need to be daemati to know what you fight within yourself.”

The moment lengthened, drawn out across the ocean, eternity, time itself. I was held there, staring into those wild violet eyes, dreaming about just what her mouth on me, her fingers in me, our bodies pressed together would feel like, the cries of our pleasure carrying over the slapping break of the wake.

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t natural, it wasn’t —

The faintest curl of her lip, the sneer of challenge.

I snapped.

Damn it all to hell. The Book. The mission. The High Lords who wanted to woo me, wage battles for me in their shameful attempts to flirt.

As soon as my lips surged forward, Rhys was there, meeting me with her overwhelming presence. Our mouths met, teeth temporarily clashing until she took control. Her hands lifted from the dresser and carded roughly into my hair, angling my mouth just where she wanted it, so her tongue could plunder and soothe and take all my hesitations away right with any remaining thought beyond the aching need at my core, the dripping desire for her.

As her clever tongue parted my lips without hesitation, so her muscular thigh drove between my own slender legs. Like a woman possessed, I ground down so that tinder of arousal could seek the friction it needed for a wildfire to catch. Rhys smiled into my mouth, delighted, and parted to speak with velvet promise.

“Let me show you how a High Lady plays, Feyre darling.”

#furthering the gay agenda #sapphic feysand #feysand #feyre #rhys #acotar #acotar fanfic #my writing #a lil treat to myself

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sweetcarolina-24 · 1 month

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𝙰 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜: 𝚂𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝙴𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ::･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ::･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

wattpad ao3 feysand playlist their pinterest board

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #feysand #sapphic feysand #bisexual feyre #feyre archeron #rhysand #female rhysand #female rhys #genderbent rhysand

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lullabestie14 · 1 month

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Found this comment on Reddit. Couldn’t explain it better than this.

“It’s clear from Mist and Fury that the original ships were: Feysand, Nessian, Elucien, and Mor/Azriel. Like it’s so obvious the way she wrote Mor and Azriel; Mor even seems vaguely interested/torn about Az. Looking at interviews, SJM even talks about Elucien as a couple (eg where would they like to travel together, etc).

Flash forward to ACOWAR. For whatever reason (lack of chemistry with Az, wanting more diversity) SJM has Mor say that she prefers women. This time the Az-pining-for-Mor is more desperate/feels like a zero chance of being requited. SJM also introduces Az as a potential love interest for Elain because she loves throwing a wrench. Just because Elucien are mates doesn’t mean they’ll have it easy; SJM’s whole thing is angst. She had to throw in a love triangle to make it uncertain. This is the first couple where mate status is confirmed upon meeting.

But there’s a problem now. If Az and Mor are no longer endgame, who will they end up with? is it not suspicious that the two new characters introduced in SF (Gwyn and Emerie) just HAPPEN to be potentially be good partners for Az and Mor? Like it’s not a coincidence that Emerie looks at Mor and blushes, remarking how pretty she is. It’s not a coincidence that Az and Gwyn have so many interactions in the text. It’s not a coincidence that a “random side character” shows up in a bonus chapter.

When SJM created Gwyn and Emerie, it wasn’t just to give Nesta friends. These characters clearly didn’t exist when she wrote MAF. SJM wanted new characters that would solve her retcon of ending Az/Mor. She wanted to solve the Mor/Az retcon so bad that she created a NEW RETCON of Az going to Sangravah. Like why bother to add that detail if it’s not important.

Also: poor Lucien. His endgame heroine was supposed to be Nesta until SJM realized they would be terrible together and that Nessian had better chemistry. So she gives Elucien the mating bond. Like is she really going to fuck Lucien over TWICE? She loves him as a character and has put him through the wringer. Yes, I agree that SJM can change her mind and maybe is open to mate rejection, but Lucien has already switched love interests from Nesta to Elain! Who else is he going to switch to, considering that Jurian and Vassa are “at each other’s throats?”

Finally, please think about the number of books left. Ignoring novellas (which are probably gonna be fluffy ones like ACOFAS where nothing happens), there are two main books left. Two couples.

Option A:

• ⁠Gwynriel (Valkyrie growth, Illyrian rebellion, exploring Ramiel, Gwyn’s autumn heritage and maybe lightsinger?? powers)

• ⁠Elucien (Helion secret baby, defeating Koschei, freeing Vassa, fixing spring court)

Option B

• ⁠Elriel (mate rejection storyline, potentially some stuff above)

• ⁠?????

Literally WHO is the second book in this equation? Lucien and Vassa?? We barely know Vassa and there’s barely any connection to Night Court. And Lucien’s book is going to be depressing as fuck dealing with mate rejection; does anyone want to read two heavy books of rejection? Jurian and Vassa: again, we barely know them! At least with Tower of Dawn, Chaol had been a main character for a long time with POV. SJM will not do a full-length Emerie/Mor book as much as I would love for one. She’s very cognizant of criticism re: Mor bi rep in the past; she doesn’t want to open a can of worms and be accused of writing bad sapphic rep. If anything, I can see a fluffy Emerie/Mor novella with little angst (or them getting together in the background of other books).

So from a meta structural level, I don’t understand who the second couple will be if Elriel is endgame. Lucien/Vassa is the most plausible answer, but 1) we barely know Vassa, 2) she’s human and Lucien is immortal. So are we going to toss her into the Cauldron to make her immortal? Serious question, and 3) I don’t want TWO books about mate rejection, it’s depressing as hell. I can see one but not two.

But with Gwynriel and Elucien, you have enormous fan and audience interest in ALL FOUR CHARACTERS. They’re directly tied to Night Court and SJM so far has no intention of staying away from the core group.”

#acotar #elucien #gwynriel #sarah j maas #lucien vanserra #azriel #elain archeron #gwyneth berdara

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achaotichuman · 18 days

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*Laughs maniacally as I crack my knuckles*

Y'all mfing know what time it is.

Acotar rant time

And thank you @hieragalbatorixdottir for the suggestion of dicussion.

So straight off the bat, Feyre x Amarantha is better because it's sapphic, which automatically makes it 1000% better than feysand. But for the sake of discourse, we will continue.

Lets discuss Rhysand vs Amarantha's relationship with Feyre.

When Feyre learns of Amarantha in Acotar, she has freshly returned to Prythian, and is shocked to find her lover has been kidnapped and the place she now calls home has been raided and destroyed. Looking like a graveyard.

She is told of Amarantha through Alis who finally reveals everything to her. Along with Amarantha's story, that being of her sister and alluds to Amarantha falling into some kind of insanity from grief.

And Feyre extends empathy towards that. She acknowledges Amarantha's torment for losing someone so close to her. Feyre has sisters and can relate to the kind of pain of wanting to protect them.

When Amarantha and Feyre meet for the first time, there are no shields on their personalities. Feyre sees Amarantha truly and wholly, her whole person on her own terf. Feyre is showing her rawest, most vulnerable self, and is standing right up to her and not backing down. Taking no shit from her.

Amarantha is morally grey and content with her wickedness. She doesn't apologize for the things she does, nor does she try to justify them. She is there for her business and her business alone without any regard for others.

Now lets flip this around. Feyre met Rhysand in very dire circumstances too. She was in a vulnerable, raw environment, in a land she did not know, being threatened to be SAed by three men.

Rhysand came in and saved her, except unlike the meeting with Amarantha he hiding his true self, whereas Feyre is completely on display, shocked and no doubt in some emotional pain from the encounter. So already there is a power struggle right off the bat, except it lacks any real emotion from Rhysand's end.

Rhysand has the similar experience of losing his sister, but he never really shows any real grief for losing his sister, she is more or less a past unfortunate tragedy.

Rhysand is morally grey, but not really because he actually hates it, he was the secret hero all along and whilst he continues to do horrible things unforgivingly, its actually morally right because it's for the 'greater good.'

Comparing Rhysand to Amarantha, and the story Feysand attempts to convey, Amarantha is the better choice.

She is everything Rhysand attempts to be but pulling it off better and with a much hotter attitude.

Even Rhysand steals Amarantha's line 'Feyre darling'. Amarantha also succeeds in her conquests, whereas Rhysand routinely falls flat. Amarantha dreams big whereas Rhysand doesn't seem to have any kind of future really in plan. We see them going from 'we're going to be High King' to 'We'll only show favor to Velaris, and not even the rest of our lands'

Plus Amarantha and Feyre have much better banter, with Feyre being in an incredibly emotional environment and routinely going off at Amarantha, whilst Amarantha takes it all in stride, extremely curious towards Feyre's behavior. Aka, they have good tension throughout the entirety of their interactions.

Amarantha see Feyre go through victory and loss, and keeps throwing challenges at her to push her forward and Feyre throws it right back.

They have a push and pull dynamic that is lacking with Feysand, because Rhysand doesn't push nor pull, he merely exists and Feyre is drawn to him regardless of his actions.

Therefore, Feyantha, is better than Feysand.

#idek where this came from #the depths of my soul probably #acotar rant #anti feysand #anti rhysand #feyre x amarantha #feyre archeron #amarantha #acotar #acotar headcanons

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offbrandnatureink · 2 years

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When I was young and Mor came out as sapphic/queer, I sat down and wrote an idea for a fic where Mor falls in love with a badass female Illyrian warrior. I also did my research for Feyre and Rhys’s kid name. It wasn’t as on the nose as fudgin’ Nyx. So one of my theories came true ☺️💚

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acourtoffaebaes · 5 years

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Jealousy

-Mor does not get jealous easily.

-But when the mating bond had first snapped into place, oh ho boy.

-Whoever was flirting with you, she would either be subtle or super territorial.

-“hey babe.”

-“hello my love.”

-Her arm would either be wrapped around your shoulder or your waist.

-But when they did not get the hint.

-She would give them a look that would usually send them running to the hills.

-She specialized in icy smiles, fake laughs, narrowed eyes. Her facade unnerved you. You loved when she was bubbly, warm and inviting. She gave off a home aura so it was weird to see her territorial.

-You being jealous was a real treat for Mor.

-Sure you were not only a physical badass but also a intellectual badass. You were put together and kept your emotions in check.

-But when one of Mor’s old sleeping buddies or some random person came up to your girlfriend, logic went out the window.

-You always had a plan, but Mor being flirted threw you off because you were so used to being around people you knew so they knew the two of you were together and backed off.

-You had no problem at all telling people to back off, had no problem at all displaying your love for Mor.

-She loved it. She loved knowing how loved she was

-You two at times would unfortunately get approached by people looking to have threesomes and as two queer women you two are disgusted.

-But when you ignore them, it’s like you ignore the whole world. Dancing away together and giggling and drinking as if it’s your first date again.

-That’s the thing with Mor, the honeymoon feeling as never, and will never leave.

#morriganfic #morrigan #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #writing #my fic #feysand #elriel #nesta archeron #azriel #feyre archeron #rhysand #sapphic love #wlw #hybern #velaris #elucien

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valamerys · 7 years

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I was talking abt this with @pterodactylichexameter and @highfaelucien at some point and I really can’t get over it: fem!Rhys not only makes feysand delightfully gay, it solves all my problems with they way Rhys is framed in the story. Rhys is the most powerful high lord in all of history, yet he’s shown as an underdog forced to adopt a heinously wicked facade in order to get any respect and protect the things he cares about. It.... mostly? makes sense? in the book? But like, let’s be real, it’s a little cognitively dissonant.

But if Rhys is a woman in a country that barely recognizes female agency and largely denies even the existence of High Ladies, of course she has to play fucking evil to get anyone to take her seriously. Of course no one respects her, no matter how powerful she is, so she has to make them fear her. Of course she has trouble keeping the illyrians in line, why would they listen to a female leader? Of course no one in the court of nightmares likes her; in the book this is explained by having Rhys be mixed race, but mixed race and a woman? No wonder people questioned the legitimacy of her heirship, no wonder Kier’s such a little shit to her. No wonder she has such an incredibly limited circle of people she can trust.

And of course Rhys is terrified to tell Feyre about her feelings or the bond; given the extreme misogyny in Prythian it’s no stretch to think there’s homophobia too, and what sapphic girl hasn’t developed feelings for a probably-straight woman and been afraid that telling them will not only get you rejected but possibly disgust them and ruin any friendship you have? And no wonder, also, that Feyre doesn’t recognize the mate bond for what it is for so long: even if she knew she liked Rhys romantically, she’d probably assume, like many of us do, that the mate bond is exclusively heterosexual. And of course Tamlin wouldn’t see Fem!Rhys as a real romantic threat, or believe the mate bond between her and Feyre is real; Tamlin would 1000000% be like “bisexuality doesn’t exist, Feyre likes my dick and Rhys is just an Evil Lesbian with Evil Lesbian Magic.”

Anyway. Please enrich ur life and consider how much sense Fem!Rhys makes.

#rhysand #acotar #'what if this was gay'#i whisper at everything i like #also fem!rhys has the same haircut as dude!rhys i feel very strongly about this

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