#feysandnyx fic

[shallyne]

Who Are You

Feyre finds herself in a pickle and she has to find her way out

Words: 1.8k

TW: Death

Big thanks to @timesconvert who kept me motivated to finish this, words can not express how much I appreciate you

Feyre always imagined that if she died it would happen while hunting, maybe freezing to death in that way too little hovel her family had lived in after her mother's death. Never in her life would she have thought she would drown because she ran away from her wedding. The sun had already set when Feyre ran, running without a destination, trying to get away as far as possible. It was already dark enough that she hadn't seen the roots on the ground, and the cliffside beyond it. The fall into the water was agonizing, it had felt like time slowed and stretched and all she could think about was all her mistakes that led her to this point in her life. Feyre wasn't happy but she sure didn't want to die, not like this. 

Of course she had fought to stay above water, of course she tried to use the little swimming skills she had taught herself to keep up. Until she stopped, her eyes dropping to the darkening sky above her as the stars revealed themselves to greet her, thinking if it was worth it. No, she wasn't ready to die but was she ready to live the life that was all planned out for her? She didn't have the answer but that moment of hesitation cost her everything, possibly her life, as the water dragged her down. The panic set in and she started kicking, trying to get up but the water dragged her farther under the surface. She had to get up, she had to fight. Her whole life was a game of survival, she had to survive this, too. She had to get up, find another solution. Her lungs burned, an agonizing sensation from inside, which made her kick wildly, a last effort, not a very good one at that. 

It felt like forever, her whole body burning from the inside, when she met the ground. And just then she looked up at the darkness above, the night shimmering far up in the sky and she felt numb, not only numb but a calmness claimed her as she looked up. She had never realized how beautiful the night was, how such a beauty was hidden right before her eyes. It was a shame that she could never marvel at the sky again. Maybe the dark sky would accompany her, becoming one with the blackness that took her in. 

Feyre stood in a room, at least she assumed it was a room. It was dark, she couldn't see anything. She didn't know where she was, what she was, if she had her eyes open, if she even had eyes. It didn't make sense, none of this made sense. Where was she? Maybe she never drowned, maybe she just had a nightmare. If she was right, she just had to move her arm to feel the mattress or the side table. Scared, no, not scared, nervously she stretched her arm out and found nothing. Not left or right. Feyre wasn't laying in her bed, she stood in this room. It was relatively big, or empty, maybe both. Although seemingly impenetrable, maybe her eyes would get used to the darkness and adjust, only so much that she could make out anything helpful at all. She turned, hoping to find anything, but it seemed useless. On the verge of giving up, Feyre turned one more time and spotted a dot, so small it was a surprise she had spotted it at all. She put one step forward, at least she hoped she was. Then another, and another, and continued to do so until the spot became bigger, until the spot wasn't a spot but a rectangle. Not a rectangle, a door and light was illuminating it from the other side! Now she ran toward, hoping she would get out of this endless blackness. And with all her might, she threw herself against the door, falling to the floor of the room behind it as it opened. She had blink a few times before she got used to the sudden brightness, seeing the room before her. It was a hallway, seemingly stretching forever. Feyre sighed, surprisingly feeling no frustration whatsoever. It felt like a test, but she couldn't exactly point to what made her think that, or what made it feel that way. 

Slowly, but without being frightened, she stepped into the hallway. Years of hunting as a child taught her how to be silent on her feet, how to approach an animal without making a sound. How to keep track of her surroundings. The hallway was cozy, the red carpet was feathering her steps, the wooden walls looked remarkably clean as if someone, or something, kept it clean. Lights on the ceiling above kept the corridor lit. 

It felt like hours of walking until something changed in the hallway, a painting was hanging on the wall. Feyre approached, wary but grateful to have some change. Standing in front of the painting, she studied it. It was a child, around twelve years old, her golden-brown braid was hanging down her back as she gazed out of the window, at the night sky, her head turned so Feyre was looking at her side profile. 

When the painting suddenly moved and the girl looked down at her, Feyre jumped back in shock. Whatever she expected, it wasn't that. 

“Who are you?” the girl asked. 

Feyre stared at her, the blue-gray eyes, Feyre's eyes, pinned on her. “I–” she stammered, then shaking her head. “I'm Feyre…” 

The girl looked at her, her younger self, Feyre had realized, clearly waiting for her full name. She had a mortal name but it slipped Feyre's mind, not only that but it felt incredibly unimportant now, too. That wasn't what the girl was asking for. Feyre didn't have an answer for that. 

As if sensing that thought, she turned back to the window, into her original pose, and it was just a painting again. 

Feyre was glad when she could walk past, turning her back to that jarring experience. Who was she? She was Feyre, and that was all she knew. Her mortal life didn't matter here, her mortal identity. 

It had felt like another few hours until she found other paintings. Her nails were pressing into the flesh of her palm as she approached, expecting another speaking sensation in a frame or worse, but nothing happened when stood in front of a gallery wall. There was a child, with blue eyes like hers and a smile that could light up the world, he was around three on the first painting. The same boy was on the next painting, a few years older, the same smile and lots of mischief shining in his eyes. The next painting she looked at was three men, one with short hair and hazel eyes, he had a serious expression on his face but his eyes sparked with koy as he looked at the two men beside him. One of the other men had shoulder length, dark hair. He was laughing in the painting, his eyes closed and a hand on the shoulder of the man in the middle. Everyone of these men were beautiful, but the man in the middle took Feyre's breath away. Violet eyes, literal stars shining in them, with black hair and impeccably dressed, smirking at the laughing man. He looked a little like the boy in the paintings before but he couldn't be, their eyes had different colors. Then she reached the last painting, a family portrait. The boy from before, smiling and the handsome, purple-eyed man behind him, his father then. His arm was around the woman beside him, who had her hand on the shoulder of the boy. His mother. Feyre studied the woman and stiffened. She looked so much like that woman before her, and not at all. Feyre was small, she always had been, and had liked to not get any attention. But this woman in the painting, she never was small. She was fierce and confident and regal and she never apologized for being herself. Everything Feyre hadn't been in her mortal lifetime. 

Taking a step back, Feyre realized that the style of the paintings were the same. So it must be all the same artist who had painted these. 

Shrugging, she turned her back to the paintings and continued her walk down the corridor. A thought crossed her while she did, fleeting and unsettling. What if this was her eternity after death? Walking this endless corridor. No, this couldn't be. 

The next few hours of walking, she tried to ignore the paintings she had looked at but her mind didn't let her, it puzzled stories about these people that felt so real that Feyre felt every emotion, as if reliving memories. Paint stained hands, a full dining room full of laughter, small feet tapping on wooden floors, training sessions early in the morning, purple eyes, golden skin, inked tattoos. 

Feyre felt sick, like a pit in her stomach opened and her head was aching. She almost didn't realize the next painting. Portrayed was a family dinner between the three men she had seen on a painting earlier, the woman so strikingly similar to Feyre, a woman with chin-length black hair and silver eyes and  silver eyes and a woman with golden curls, and brown eyes. Feyre's doppelgänger, the blonde woman and the man with dark, shoulder length hair were laughing, the men clutching their stomachs as the black haired woman grumpily took a sip of her wine and the other two men were watching in amusement.

Feyre's heart cracked at the sight and longing filled her, so suddenly she felt like she was drowning again. She turned her face away, the painting felt so familiar and intimate but she just couldn't place it.

Impossible to look at the painting again, she continued her walk. It was only a few steps until she found that the hallway was ending in an open doorway. Relief flooded her and she was about to quicken her step when a figure filled the doorway. 

Feyre staggered back, almost falling on her ass. If she didn't know better, she would have thought the figure winced at her reaction. 

She knew who he was, everyone would know, his presence told them. Right in front of her stood Death. 

Death. Death. Death. 

Death came to claim her. 

She was dead. 

Death. 

She should be scared. 

She wasn't scared. 

She shouldn't feel that pull toward him. 

Feyre didn't move one inch as she stared at Death, and Death stood at her. 

Death. Death. Death. 

Death has watched you. 

Death.

Death has watched you your whole life. 

Death.

Death.

Death has watched you long before. 

Who are you? 

She was Feyre. She was Death. And so was her mate. 

“Is she here?” a voice sounded from behind Rhysand, as another figure showed behind her mate. 

Smiling, she outstretched her arms. 

She was Feyre, she was also a mother. And a badass one at that.

“Nyxie!” she called out to her son. 

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @edgyellie @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

[thattrable]

A Moment with Nyx

Summary: Rhys and Feyre share a moment with Nyx after he is born.

Notes: Spoilers for ACOSF

Teaser:  “I never thought the happiest moment of my life would also be the most terrifying.”

__________

“Darling,” I said, easing myself onto the bed next to Feyre and sliding my arm around her shoulders. “I love you,” I murmured against her hair, breathing in the scent of her.

I’d lost count of how many times I’d said those words to her today. The fact that she’d almost . . . My chest throbbed at the thought of it. I knew Feyre knew that I loved her, that there was nothing in this entire world I wouldn’t do for her, but in our final moments all I could think of was that none of it had been enough.

Feyre turned her head to stare at me with her gorgeous gray-blue eyes. “I love you, too.” She pressed her lips against mine and my body shuddered. She pulled away, her brows knitted in concern. “Rhys,” she trailed soft kisses along my cheeks, brushing away the tears that I hadn’t even realized were falling. “Rhys, it’s okay now. We made it. We’re here.” Feyre kissed me one more time before looking down at the sleeping babe in her arms. “We all are.”

I gently placed a hand over the one Feyre had supporting his head.

He was perfect, and he was ours.

“Nyx,” I whispered, “Our Nyx.”

It was a miracle he was here. That any of us was.

I looked again at Feyre. My mate. Mother of my child. Her hair was slightly disheveled and I could see in her eyes how tired she was. “Can I get you anything, my love?”

“No, not right now.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, just tired,” She admitted.

“Are you sure?” I pressed.

She smiled at me. “Yes, Madja said we were all going to be okay, remember, Rhys?” And then as if she knew what I was about to say next, she added, “It’s normal for me to feel tired.”

I knew she was right. Madja had said all three of us were perfectly healthy after Nesta had used the trove to save us during Nyx’s birth. She’d checked Feyre and Nyx extensively and then insisted on checking me as well. She was amazed—we all were— by what Nesta had given to save us. There was almost no limit to what I would do or give to repay Feyre’s sister for her sacrifice.

I rubbed my thumb over the back of Feyre’s hand.

A son. We had a son.

In all my years I’d never hoped to have a family of my own. I never dared to consider a mate who would see me for everything I am and not only accept me, but love me as she does. And offspring… Feyre had given me a son.

There was nothing I wouldn’t do for them.

“Rhys,” Feyre whispered, “A thought for a thought?”

She knew me too well.

“I felt you…” I started, “felt you dying. And I knew that I was dying too. And that Nyx was…” My voice became shaky and I trailed off.

Feyre rested her head against my shoulder. “I know, Rhys… I felt you too. I felt you holding onto me, trying to pull me back.” Her voice cracked. “I was trying so hard to stay.”

“I never thought the happiest moment of my life would also be the most terrifying.”

“Me either,” She agreed.

We sat in contented silence for a while. I had no idea how much time had passed while I held my mate and our son in my arms. I was beginning to wonder if Feyre had fallen asleep when she said, “You once told me that everything you love has a tendency to be taken away from you.” I tensed up, but let her continue. “Those are my things too now, Rhys. We share those things. They are mine, just as much as they are yours. I love you, the way you love me. And I love Nyx, the way you love Nyx. And our family. And our Court. All of it, Rhys. We are one, until the very last star winks out of existence, we are one. And I will share, and protect the things you love just as you do.”

I kissed her temple several times before resting my forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“You should get some sleep.”

“I know.” She smiled softly, shifting her attention to Nyx, “but I don’t want to put him down.”

“I’ll hold him.” I replied, sitting up in bed so that I could reverently take the small winged boy from her. He stirred in my arms for a moment but did not wake, not as I tucked him against my chest and laid back onto the pillows.

Feyre rolled onto her side next to me, placing a hand over Nyx. “We made him.”

“I know,” I grinned, “That’s why he’s so beautiful.”

Feyre chuckled, and Cauldron, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, especially as she began to glow with that brilliant light of hers.

“Happy, Feyre darling?”

“More than I ever thought I could be.”

“Me too, my love. Me too.

[the-lonelybarricade]

Do you have any fic recs focused on Nyx? Either grown up or baby. I didn't vibe with the baby plot but he's so cute 🥺

I have this list for fics centered around Feysand and baby Nyx 🥺 (We just pretend Feysand had a happy, fluffy pregnancy on this blog)

I don't read much next-gen fic, but I do know that @hellogoodbye14 has started writing a lot more fic featuring adult Nyx and I would definitely reccomend checking out their work!!

And also my friend @gwynesta has started a Nyx x Tamlin's daughter fic called The Midnight Garden. Very Romeo and Juliet vibes and we are HERE for it 😍

[starlitfeyre]

Imagine Feyre telling an older Nyx about the time she threw her shoes at Rhys

[shallyne]

The Prince of Night and the City of Starlight

And here is the Feysandnyx fluff I promised y'all. Canon compliant, newborn Nyx. Enjoy!

Words: 1,293

TW: mention of traumatizing birth, recovery of birth post partum

Feyre and Rhys are introducing Nyx to Velaris.

It was a beautiful day in Velaris. The sun was shining, the sky was blue with only a few single clouds in sight and the birds were chirping. The temperatures were mild, perfect for a walk with baby Nyx. Feyre had planned to take him out with her earlier but the day before it was too cold for her liking and the day before that it was raining. Okay, fine, it was more of a drizzle. She knew that she was too anxious but she couldn't put it off, she wouldn't make her son uncomfortable by any means. In the four weeks that they had their son, Feyre had caught herself correcting Rhys a bunch of times when he changed diapers, bathed him or just how he held Nyx. Fortunately her mate took it personally, it was instincts that made her act that way and they knew. Especially because she had witnessed Rhys himself getting anxious when someone held Nyx for too long, or slightly slumping in relief when Feyre told him that the weather was too bad to take Nyx for a walk. In theory, they were prepared for their parental instincts, they read books after books and asked Madja endless questions on their appointments and they already had felt these instincts bubbling up during the pregnancy but oh boy, that was just a wisp of the force that hit them like a punch in the just. Holding Nyx for the first time, she knew that she would die for this little babe in her arms but more importantly, she would live for him. She would protect him and love him and give him the beautiful life he deserved.

"Stop fussing, you mother hen. I'm not incompetent, you one?" Feyre told her mate.

A corner of his mouth tugged up as he tightened the baby carrier on Feyre, "I know you're not incompetent, Feyre darling, but would you just let me help for once without complaining?"

She rolled her eyes, putting her hands on his shoulders as he tightened another strap but they both knew she was thankful for him. Nyx's birth was complicated and it took Feyre much longer to heal than it would have taken if it had been a natural birth. She still wasn't fully recovered, even with her healing powers she inherited from the High Lord of the Dawn Court, although it was mostly soreness that plagued her these days.

Rhys tugged on the bindings and then smiled satisfied, "That should do, it's perfect." he took her face in his hands, "Are you ready for Velaris to meet our little boy?"

Nervously, she wiped her hands on her pants, "As ready as I can be." she told him, pressing a light kiss on his lips.

He slid an arm around her and darkness gathered around them, "Don't worry, Mor and I will be with you the whole time." he whispered in her ear, then winnowed them downstairs where said blonde waited for them, holding Nyx. He already started to get restless, which wasn't something new. Feyre knew that exact same restlessness, that type that she got when she was separated from her son for too long. It was only a matter of a few minutes that it took Nyx from being restless to screaming his lungs out until Feyre picked him up and carried him around. They had asked Madja if it was normal, who had told him that Feyre and Nyx had a strong bond and that this could be the result from the complications at birth.

"Hi baby," she cooed at him as she took Nyx out of Mor's arms and Rhys helped them get him into the carrier, careful with his still delicate wings. Feyre pressed a soft kiss on his dark hair as he settled. "Are you ready to explore Velaris?" she asked him in a baby voice. She could have sworn that Nyx smiled at her voice but the healer had told them that wasn't possible at that age but Feyre was so sure that he was smiling. She looked up at Mor and Rhys, her hand supporting Nyx's head. "Let's go then." she nodded to the front door.

It didn't take them long until the first people came closer, staying away a healthy distance. If they didn't know that they should stop a few feet away, they would see it at the way Rhys stiffened, the way Feyre was flanked by Rhys and Mor and how slightly forward, ready to protect Nyx and Feyre if necessary. As the residents, two shop owners Feyre recognized and a younger Fae, presumably pre-teen, congratulated Feyre she felt pride blooming in her chest. Her son, she thought as she stroked her thumb over Nyx's head. His blue-gray eyes, so similar to hers, took in their surroundings. He found it especially interesting when a wind breeze rustled the leaves of a tree.

Her hand always supporting Nyx's head, she linked her other hand with Rhys's, stepping towards the rainbow.

It was Rhys's idea that they walked through the rainbow first. Not only because it was colorful, they had realized that Nyx was very fond of colorful things, but also because it calmed Feyre down.

"I think he likes it." Feyre said softly.

Rhys squeezed her hand, smiling at Feyre. He looked so happy as they walked there, that her breath hitched. She let the walls of her mental shields down a bit, feeling the wave of pure love, so much stronger than with her shields up. He opened his mouth, but Mor already cooed in a high pitched voice, "Of course Nyxie does! That's Velaris, right, Nyxie? Pretty Velaris! Pretty!" she booped his little nose, which in return he gripped her finger. "Look how strong you are!" Feyre giggled which made Mor grin at her, "Don't let Cassian know how strong he is, he will already make training plans."

"He can try, I'll kick his ass." Feyre murmured. Rhys chuckled, "I'd love to see that."

"Me too," Mor said, "Careful! Step!"

They were stopped a few times as they walked through the rainbow. They held conversations, introduced their son, and repeated as they walked past musicians and art shops. They took a breather, walking along the Sidra, when Nyx started to get fussy and Feyre knew from the way he mewled.

Rhys winnowed them both home after they said goodbye to Mor. She only managed to get out of her shoes before he started crying.

"Just a moment, my little star," she said softly, lifting him out of the carrier. Rhys already undid the binds before she could ask him two and soon Feyre was perched against the headboard, feeding him. Just then she felt the exhaustion crashing in.leaning her he'd back, she sighed and watched Nyx.

"How are you?" Rhys asked, slipping out from the bathroom where he went a few minutes prior.

Feyre half-smiled and shrugged. "I'm tired."

"Of course you are," he replied softly, perching on the bed beside her, "Today was draining."

"We went on a walk," she retorted, keeping her voice down for Nyx.

Rhys sighed, stroking circles on her thigh with his thumb, "You're recovering, Feyre. Magnificently, if I may add, but it's still a recovery and it will still take some time." He brushed a Strand of her hair out of her face, "And we were walking through the rainbow for hours. That's longer than usual. Of course you're tired."

She smiled, gesturing for him to lean forward so she could kiss him. "I love you,"

"Of course you do." he said. Feyre narrowed her eyes at him which made him chuckle. "I love you, too." he looked at Nyx. "Both of you. More than anything in the world."

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @edgyellie @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @disturbingly-silent