s1rsh4rks

[s1rsh4rks]

So I don't usually write fics, but I wanted to try my hand at writing one for a while now. I wrote this with this idea in mind and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out! I'm a little nervous to post this, (it's kind of like letting people peek inside my sketchbook) but I wanted to share, so here you go!

He should be here by now.

Is what Feyre thinks as she sits in bed, black silky sheets covering the lower half of her body. She’s tried to gauge through the bond as to where Rhys might be, or even what he’s feeling for that matter. The usual frustrations from a busy night of paperwork aren’t present, rather a subdued calm ebbs throughout Feyre’s body. It’s… odd, not being able to know exactly what her mate is doing at this moment. He’s usually a very talkative sort of person, always using the bond to tell her how he’s doing and how the day is going; when they’re not side by side, that is.

Not wanting to sleep alone, Feyre rises from her bed to go find her mate, grabbing her robe in the process. Unfortunately, no one is up at the moment besides the staff. Even then they don’t provide the answers she’s hoping for, a whole bunch of “My apologies, my Lady, I do not know.” 

When all seems lost, she is then approached by a man who looks to be made of stone. His face has gargoyle-esque features and he wears the clothes of a gardener. A string of poppies is tied around his neck. It appears black in the night, much to Feyre’s appreciation. The man calls to her,

“I heard her Lady is looking for the High Lord, yes?”

Feyre nods,”Indeed I am. Do you know where he might be?”

The stone man smiles,”As a matter of fact, I do. Please, follow me.”

He leads her down a long corridor to a set of large, stained glass double doors.

“You will find the High Lord sitting outside in the garden. Last I saw he was sitting by the roses.”

Feyre’s brow furrows slightly at the mention,”Thank you for your help.”

“Of course, my Lady.”

With that he takes a quick bow before heading back the way they came. Now alone, Feyre takes a breath, steeling herself, and pushes open the doors in front of her.

What lies beyond is a gallery of different flowers and foliage. Large weeping willows can be seen around the garden, as well as tall imposing spruce trees sprinkled here and there. Feyre steps out onto the circular stone path ahead, glancing around in an attempt to spot her mate. She can see fireflies blinking through the air. Until, oddly, it seems as if they begin to form a line, pointing her in the direction she needs to go.

Slowly, she begins to follow them, the cool stone beneath her feet. As she follows she begins to hear something. She pauses, straining to hear. It sounds like… singing? It's low and quiet, but ultimately inaudible. With that, Feyre decides to get low and sneak closer, hoping to hear more.

Getting closer, she peers around one of the hedges lining the pathway. It's then she spots the roses. Quickly she closes her eyes and takes a couple breaths before peeking her eyes open, quickly scanning for the source of the singing. She finds it, eventually, and makes her gasp slightly when she does. It’s Rhysand singing.

Sitting on a stone bench, surrounded by rose bushes, he hums a small but lively tune. He then begins to mumble out a few lyrics.

“Her golden hair matches the curtains,

And now I'm all but certain,

She’s au naturel~”

Well that was… slightly crude. However, the way Rhys sings it makes it seem… fond? Like he’s recalling a memory associated with that particular tune. A twinge of jealousy forms in Feyre’s gut, not to mention the dirty rhyme makes her feel oddly reminiscent of a certain someone.

But it's weird. Rhysand doesn’t sing, and he certainly isn’t all that musically inclined. Not only that, but it makes Feyre feel like Rhys isn’t supposed to be singing it alone, like it’s supposed to be accompanied with an instrument or more vocals. 

Feyre doesn’t like it. Rhys sounds so alone in this moment, even his eyes look distant. A spark of something long gone lingering there, a melancholic smile playing ever so lightly on his lips.

Feyre follows his eyes, as he looks down; however, that’s when she notices the rose twirling ever so softly in Rhys’s hand. She stands immediately at that, making her presence known. 

At the sound, Rhysand stops singing and looks up from his spot.

“Feyre,” His eyes widened, looking like he’d been caught.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

Feyre ignores that before saying,”I didn’t know you could sing.”

Rhysand deflates a little at that, looking back out into the garden. He hunches slightly.

“I used to, but not anymore. Was never much of a singer, anyway.”

He looks at the rose before lightly tossing it to the ground. He turns his gaze back to Feyre, standing up from the bench as he does so.

“Did I keep you waiting? I’m sorry, my love.”

He walks over to her, intertwining his hand with hers.

“Let’s head to bed, shall we?”

Feyre nods and says nothing. She still isn’t able to feel much from him. The calm is still present, but now with something else slipping through. A sort of tiredness was beginning to peek through. Not from regular exhaustion, but rather from something emotional and heavy. A tiredness that you feel in your bones, in your soul. It weighs heavy on the heart, and no doubt heavier on the mind.

Feyre wonders just what exactly caused him to act like this tonight. To hide out into the garden and sing odd, crass tunes to himself. Not to mention that wistful look in his eyes as he did so.

Questions for the morning she supposes, as the two of them head off to bed.

[s1rsh4rks]

hc that Rhysand and Tamlin were a singer/musician duo back when they were friends and that Tamlin's dirty limericks were the lyrics for the songs.

(I also maybe wrote something with this idea in mind... if you maybe idk want to read it.. its not explicitly this idea, but it alludes to it..)

[s1rsh4rks]

requested by @praetorqueenreyna

Sorry it took so long! Busy moving and whatnot

Tamlin smooches!

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Tamsand kiss 👀👀 (if you don't mind)

I don’t mind at all!

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really hit my stride with this one I think

@springdusk thank you for the prompt!

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open invitation to ask me to draw stuff (acotar related) cuz I’m BORRREEDDD

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For the Hamlin enjoyers, there was a Reddit request for Hamlin playing the fiddle!!

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I made a blog for all my non-acotar stuff btw! It’s @sea-candies ! I’ve only got two things up rn, but there will be more to come :)

Other than that have a happy pride y’all!

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Mama’s boy

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Thinking about that scene in acotar where Rhysand tells Tamlin “This makes us even.” Even about what exactly?? Maybe it’s because I’ve only read the first book, but I’ve read snippets and I’ve heard what happens in them and none of the actions Rhysand takes against Tamlin, and their previous history, make this line feel true. Like killing each other’s families would make you both even, which is the only thing I can think of that would relate to this. This should’ve been something Tamlin said to either Feyre or Rhys when he revived Rhysand. Maybe SJM had something in mind for the two of them that would make this line make sense, but I guess she scrapped it or something?? I cant think of anything that justifies this line. Genuinely makes me feel like the books were planned to go in a different direction than where it is now.

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Amren design in the works

Does she look old in canon? No! Do I think that’s boring? Yes! SJM gave me a character who is extremely old and I intend to show it!!

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I think it would be fun if the starlight pool in Spring connected to one in the Night court. Like imagine Tamlin decides that he wants to go to the bottom only to end up surfacing in the IC’s personal pool, or wherever.

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Rhysand has things around his mansion that remind him of Tamlin. But they also remind Feyre of Tamlin, so Rhys has to get rid of them (or hide them). In doing so he confronts just how much Tam has affected him and how much he relies on him for comfort.

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You mean to tell me Rhysand has all these tattoos and not one of them was a result of pining over Tam?

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girl get up

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warm up sketch of my wife 🥺

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<3