#to make them love me and make it seem effortless

[snowjanuses]

Mastermind is SO Coryo-coded

[rosanna-writer]

Sharing another snippet I'm super excited about for the next chapter of to make them love me and make it seem effortless, another Feyre POV chapter, this time from a scene that takes place at Rita's:

Rhys doesn't indicate anything beyond basic politeness, but the female puts a hand on his arm. The thought comes to me unbidden, with a ferocity I didn't know I was capable of: MINE. Rhys jumps like I've said it aloud. No one else seems to notice— Cauldron boil me, I must have shouted that across the bond. Rhys turns, and when his eyes fall on me, he gives me the cockiest smile I've ever seen. I'm not shielding, so I expect to hear him in my head, but I don't. He just crosses the room, wine forgotten, and holds my gaze. Az finds somewhere else to be. Rhys takes the seat next to me, leans in close, and whispers, "Is there a reason you felt the need to shout something patently obvious at me just now?" He sounds like his normal arrogant self, but I catch the other meaning behind the question. He wants to know if he's inadvertently done something to upset me. "You know perfectly well why I dislike seeing a stranger touching you," I say in a low voice. If it's a little testy, it's only because he's never going to let me live this down. That smirk of his is going to become permanent. "If you don't want to see it happen again, I'm yours to monopolize for the evening."

[babybluebex]

.

[senatortedcruz]

Mastermind is such a Scorpio song

[marsneedstherapy]

so it goes and mastermind are the philas anthems if you care

[doctorweebmd]

so there's this post floating around about like, feeling like an outsider even in a group of outsiders and i almost reblogged it being like

'aha i do that'

except. like. i know exactly why that happens, and its 100% my fault

i just have trouble maintaining relationships because i'm a poor communicator. that's been the case since high school. i dont really initiate conversations or remember to text or call people. its not from a place of indifference or anything like that - i'm sincerely an 'out of sight out of mind' kind of person.

i can not talk to and not see someone for months or years but my feelings for them don't change. it doesn't bother me if people dont check in on me or don't hang out with me or don't text me. i still like them. unfortunately that is not how 99% of the population communicates. people (rightfully) assume that when someone doesn't initiate conversation or hang-outs or doesn't check in on you, that they don't care about you. for me, thats not the case at all. like if i like you and consider you my friend, you are ALWAYS my friend. i would do anything for you and would be more than happy to talk/see each other/support you/etc. its just the day-to-day communication that i really struggle with. but thats how most relationships form - regular, consistent communication.

i've gone through periods of extreme guilt for this where i sincerely try, and make new friends, and re-connect with texting and phone calls and hanging out more often but inevitably something happens, i get busy or i forget and suddenly all this time passes and people think i dont care anymore. unfortunately that's not the case whatsoever - time is kind of abstract to me and i dont understand that while my feelings don't change, others feel more distant or abandoned.

and i've really hurt people in my life like that. friends that i've known for many years from high school/college are a LITTLE more forgiving because they know i'm just 'like that' but still. it does hurt people. like i haven't spoken to my dad in probably at least a year - not because i dont love him, but because of that same reason. he doesn't reach out and i forget and it just steamrolls because he gets hurt, doesn't reach out because he thinks i'm intentionally 'ignoring' him, and i continue to forget, and its just this viscous cycle. i haven't talked to my grandparents in months. my mom knows better and texts me every week or so, but it still hurts her that she has to reach out so regularly. she also plays these games where she sees how 'long' it takes for me to remember to reach out. a lot of people in my life have done that. its like i'm being tested on something without ever being told its a standard test, ya know? i'm always destined to fail it because i dont know how long is too long. at which point will the time and distance be unacceptable? i still dont know the answer.

and i think it makes me come off as a really heartless and callous person. its made me kind of keep people at arms-length because i know i'm not capable of being a part of most people's lives. i have perfectly normal and pleasant relationships with my coworkers and all that, but i'm generally not close with them. and i can see the confusion, because we hang out and i'm pretty normal or whatever and we have fun and then they don't hear from me for months and they're like 'uhhhh.... okay? so i guess you don't like me?'

i do. i just have different relationship maintenance standards than others i guess. so i just overall avoid being around others just because i know i'll disappoint them. it is what it is but it really is sad, in a way.

[14dayswithyou]

i was gonna ask why you weren't as active on the 14dwy discord anymore but then i realised that taylor swift's new album dropped 🥴

i'll give u a min

✦゜ANSWERED: IT'S ME 💁😙 HI 🤚 I'M ⚰️ THE PROBLEM 😊 IT'S ME 🤙🤘 AT TEATIME EVERYBODY 👩👨 AGREES I'LL 🤒 STARE DIRECTLY AT THE SUN 🌦 BUT 🤤🤚 NEVER 📷 IN 👻😈 A MIRROR IT MUST 👫 BE 📖🐝 EXHAUSTING ALWAYS 💯 ROOTING FOR 🎄👉 THE ANTIHERO

[alma-artts]

I just realized how much I relate to mastermind by taylor swift help.

[shedoessoshedoes]

Say what you want but Mastermind by Taylor Swift is Rhysand’s theme song

[shrekgogurt]

me, a marketing and pr team for myself

[fearsomeandwretched]

I was listening to mastermind earlier and started tearing up lmao

[rosanna-writer]

to make them love me and make it seem effortless

Summary: When the High Lord of the Spring Court whisks her off to Prythian, it's exactly what Feyre Archeron wants. Her plan: let Tamlin romance her to break the curse and use her proximity to him to pass military secrets back to the mortals. And it works— until a certain other High Lord tries to steal documents she's after.

Pairing: Feysand

A/N: In this AU, Spring is cursed during the War, Feyre is born much earlier, and Hybern reins Amarantha in when she goes rogue.

First chapter is below, and you can also find it here on AO3 :)

When I winnow to Tamlin's manor, his guards have their ash arrows notched and trained on me, just as I expected. Tamlin himself is waiting on the steps, wearing a scowl and a formal forest green coat. Dressed for diplomacy, not battle.

Ignoring the guards, I cross the lawn and saunter up the steps. When I get closer, Tamlin's scowl just deepens.

"Is this how you greet all your guests?" I say.

"Try anything, and you're as good as dead, Rhysand," Tamlin says. With how tightly his teeth are clenched, it's a wonder he manages to get the words out.

"Yes, the saber-rattling might be necessary, but doesn't it get a bit tiresome?"

Tamlin pulls out the box he’s been holding behind his back. It’s small, unmarked. "For security, you'll wear this until you leave. Don't bother trying to remove it— the clasp only opens for me."

I expected this, too. It’s the reason my Inner Circle all protested against me coming here today and the very reason I insisted on coming alone.

My eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise. “A gift? Oh, you shouldn't have."

For once, Tamlin doesn't take the bait. He continues as if I hadn't said anything. "It won't hurt you, but the faebane it contains will bind your powers."

"And if I refuse?"

"Negotiations are off, and I order my guards to shoot."

All things considered, I don’t actually believe Tamlin’s unreasonable to demand this before we sit down to negotiate. If our roles had been reversed, I would have done the same.

But this plan requires Tamlin to believe that my court is seriously considering an alliance with his, a deal too high-stakes to delegate. And I couldn’t ask anyone else to join me in enemy territory with no magic and no way home. So I’m here alone.

"I agree."

As Tamlin opens the box, a new tattoo circles both of our left wrists, an alternating pattern of stars and flowers. The bargain is sealed.

The thin silver cuff in the box looks unremarkable. I take it, slip it over the tattoo, and close it. As soon as it touches my skin, the world goes quiet. Every single mind I'd been able to sense disappears from my consciousness, like candles snuffed out by a strong breeze.

"Come inside," Tamlin says. "I'll show you to your room, and you can freshen up before the banquet."

He turns on his heel, and I follow him inside, feeling more vulnerable than I've ever been. Perhaps my friends had been right. I shouldn't have come here.

As we walk to my room, I memorize the route, in case I need to make a swift exit on foot. Tamlin doesn't say anything else, and the few servants we encounter give us a wide berth. When we arrive, Tamlin mutters something about dinner in an hour and leaves me to it.

The suite is spacious, with the same cloying beauty as the rest of the manor, all greens and pastels and ornate designs. I get to work searching for anything potentially suspicious. The windows don't open, but I find nothing dangerous, no violations of my privacy. Tamlin must think that binding my magic is all that's required.

I'll have to ask to send a note back to the Night Court letting my Inner Circle know I'm unharmed. Not being able to handle it myself makes me feel like I'm missing a limb. The sun sets, and I kill the rest of the time until dinner pacing the suite like a caged tiger.

Tamlin doesn’t send an escort, but I remember the way to his great hall. I briefly consider “accidentally” getting "lost" to get a better look around, but think better of it. There are too many servants around, and Tamlin is still on guard. I have to bide my time.

I arrive to dinner fashionably late. I can hear the buzz of conversation as I approach, and the hall is already full of the lords of Tamlin's court. When I enter, it goes quiet. All eyes fall on me.

I plaster on the grin I usually reserve for the Court of Nightmares. It's good to know I can still have this effect on a room, even without my magic.

Tamlin stands to greet me. "Rhysand," he says. "Come sit."

The empty seat to his left must be reserved for me. I cross the room, scanning the crowd, and my eyes fall on the woman at Tamlin's right. The human woman at Tamlin's right.

I know her.

I don't know her name, or what a mortal is doing in the Spring Court, but I've seen that face in enough of my dreams that I'd recognize it anywhere. Even though the dreams had gotten more vivid a few months ago, I’d half-convinced myself that I’d made her up. But here she is.

She doesn't look at me, keeps her head bowed and her eyes on her plate. In the few seconds it takes to cross the room, I regain my composure and put on my mask. I take my seat and say, "And what do we have here?"

Tamlin moves between us, partially blocking my view of her. "My fiancée and future Lady of the Spring Court, Feyre Archeron."

"Interesting," I say, just to cover my shock. The High Lord of the Spring Court is engaged, to a human woman no less, and somehow I'm the last to know. "I can see why you've been keeping this little flower all to yourself. Congratulations."

"Rhysand…" Tamlin growls.

"What?" I say, picking an invisible piece of lint off my sleeve. "You can't be upset I didn't bring a wedding gift if you haven't let anyone know you're engaged."

"It's a recent development."

I catch a glimpse of the glittering emerald on Feyre's finger as she raises a glass of wine to her lips. It looks expensive, if far too gaudy.

"Recent development or not, it's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Feyre," I purr.

"You as well, my lord," Feyre says softly. She looks at me for the first time, but I don't see even the smallest flicker of recognition in her eyes. Either whatever connection I have with her is entirely one-sided, or she's the best actress I've ever met.

Tamlin's knife scrapes loudly against his plate as he pushes it just a little too hard. Feyre drops her gaze again but winces at the sound.

I grab my own knife and start to butter a roll. "So do tell, Tamlin. How did you meet? I wouldn’t have taken you as the type to slum it with the mortals."

Tamlin's hand tightens around his wine glass, and I brace myself for it to shatter. "Alliance or not, you have no right to come into my home and insult my fiancée—"

Feyre strokes his arm and whispers something. It's too soft for me to hear exactly what, but Tamlin seems to force himself to relax, kissing her on the cheek. The sight of it turns my stomach.

"You'll forgive me for my curiosity," I say, "But at the very least, Lady Feyre must have been far from home for the two of you to even cross paths."

"Feyre came to Prythian after killing one of my sentries," Tamlin says.

I freeze with the dinner roll halfway to my face. "So she's your captive?" I say.

"Of course not," Feyre blurts out. With how demure she's been acting, it's a bit of a shock to hear the sharpness in her voice.

"She was hunting and thought Andras was a wolf. But I couldn't let his death go unanswered," Tamlin adds.

She still sounds like a captive to me. But there's information I must be missing— I don't see why Tamlin didn't just kill her immediately. He must need her alive, but I can't imagine what for.

"It all sounds terribly romantic when you put it that way," I say.

"Tamlin isn't keeping me here," Feyre says, "I could go anywhere in Prythian I liked and come and go as I please. But I decided to stay, and that's how we fell in love."

She's looking at him like he hung the moon, and so I bite back a comment pointing out that it's not much of a choice when the rest of Prythian is hardly safe for a human, even if she did kill a faerie. Tamlin leans in and kisses her again, and I take another sip of wine to cover my look of disgust.

The rest of dinner is tedious. None of Tamlin’s courtiers are particularly interested in making small talk with me, which I prefer. And I can’t put my finger on why, but watching Feyre and Tamlin together makes me want to throw things. It’s ridiculous of me— his love life is none of my business.

I return to my room as early as I can without seeming suspicious or rude. Tamlin sends a message to Amren on my behalf, letting her know I'm safe and negotiations will begin in the morning. Even though it's late, I don't sleep. This is my best chance to explore the manor undetected.

Without my magic, I doubt I can get into Tamlin's study, but at the very least, it's worth getting a sense of what wards might be protecting it. Ideally, I'd find any confidential documents myself, but barring that, I may be able to relay enough information for Azriel's shadows to find them instead.

The manor is silent as I creep down corridors lined with vases of flowers. Out of habit, I reach out with my mind, trying to sense anyone else I might cross paths with. But I feel nothing, just silence, and since coming here, I've never felt my lack of powers so acutely.

The power of the protective wards radiates from Tamlin’s study— I can feel it from just outside the door. But before I can examine them further, I hear footsteps down the hall.

I yank open the next door over and slip inside. It's an empty meeting room, likely the one we'll negotiate in tomorrow. I focus on closing the door as silently as possible, not taking in my surroundings.

Which is why I don't expect the blade pressing into my back.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't scream for the guards right now," Feyre says.

I smile and turn to face her. Cauldron only knows how she hid that knife under her frilly nightgown, and I realize she's covered her scent with floral perfume. She might be wearing far too many ruffles, but there’s a hard, deadly look in her eyes that tells me she won't hesitate to bury that knife in my chest. From the way she's gripping it, I suspect I wouldn't be the first.

“Because I believe we might be on the same side, Feyre darling," I say.

The knife doesn't move. "Explain."

"A bargain, then. I'll tell you the truth about what I'm after, if you'll do the same for me. And neither one of us will hurt the other, at least until we've each told the full story."

As she considers it, the silence seems to stretch for an eternity. But eventually she sheaths the knife. "Deal."

I feel a tingle just behind my ear, and her hand comes up to rub the same spot where her own tattoo must have appeared. It's done.

“Something tells me you didn’t turn your back on your fellow mortals by coming here, did you?"

“Of course not. I came here on their behalf." I raise an eyebrow at that, prompting her to go on. She takes a deep breath and adds, "How much do you know about the curse on the Spring Court?"

"Not much," I say, doing my best to keep my face impassive. It's not a lie, but I’m not sure I want to admit outright that I’ve heard nothing about this curse at all.

"Spring will lose its magic if Tamlin cannot convince a mortal who killed a fae to fall in love with him. He has forty-nine more years."

I should be asking who cursed the Spring Court and why, but the wave of relief that she doesn't actually love Tamlin overwhelms that. It doesn't make sense— I've only known her for a few hours. Some emotion flickers across her face as well, too fast for me to read.

"The perfect weakness for a beautiful human to exploit. Brilliant."

Her face flushes so deeply that even in the dark, I can see it clearly. "It wasn't my idea. But when Nes— our spymaster, got word of the curse, we agreed I had the best chance of killing a fae."

After sneaking up on me, I could see why. It seems better not to press her for the rest of the name she almost let slip, so I ignore it.

"In that case, I'm fortunate that you chose not to kill a second one tonight."

Feyre smiles again. It's nothing short of predatory.

"Tamlin was a fool to let you come here, even without magic. There's no good reason for the Night Court to switch sides, so something told me I could trust you."

It seems too much to hope that means she's felt the same pull I do. This woman is a survivor, and she trusted her instincts— there's little that has to do with me.

"The Night Court will never ally with slavers, Feyre. And if you need to leave this court, you will have a safe haven in mine."

"Thank you," she says solemnly.

It’s all I have to offer her, and it doesn’t feel like nearly enough. But we have a job to do, so I say, “Who cursed the Spring Court and why?”

"Amarantha. Tamlin rejected her, and Hybern wasn't able to rein her in completely. I haven't been able to find out what her plans were, but I think it involved all seven courts. She only got as far as Spring, and now she’s missing."

"That explains some of the reports from my spymaster."

Azriel's shadows had ascertained that she was no longer one of Hybern's generals but not the reason for the falling out. But this fills in the missing pieces and explains why Tamlin’s been acting so desperate.

"That's all the information I have. Tamlin keeps me in the dark when it comes to decisions," she says. There's a dark undercurrent of anger there, but I don't press for details.

"I don’t have much else. As you guessed, I'm not here to negotiate. I came here for answers, and here we are."

She nods, seeming to mull that over, and I feel the tattoo disappear. That’s all the information we both have.

After another silence, she says, "So if you have everything you came for, are you leaving?"

There's a note of despair in her voice, and it takes all the willpower I have not to pull her close and reassure her that I’d never leave her. I don’t understand where this urge is coming from. I'd be a fool to think this is about me when she's been far from home and pretending to love a man happy to ally with her people's oppressors.

"You could come with me."

"No," she says, resolute and final. "Not if I can still be of use here."

She's survived enough and contributed enough, but I understand. If I were in her position, I'd do the same.

"I can't get through Tamlin's wards on my own, not without my magic. My intention had been to gather as much information as I could and pass it on to my spymaster. But with you..." I trail off and hope she can see where I’m going with this.

She shakes her head. "Tamlin will know if you're in his office. And if he figures out I let you in, he'll kill us both."

"You underestimate me, Feyre darling," I say, leaning back against the door and stuffing my hands in my pockets.

I thought that might get her to smile again, but her expression remains stony. "We can't risk it."

"If there's a way to unbind my magic, it will only take a second to winnow us to the Night Court."

Her gaze falls to the cuff on my wrist. The wheels are turning in that lovely head of hers, and it’s gorgeous. Devious is a great look on her. "There's a crystal Tamlin keeps on his desk as a paperweight."

At first, I'm not sure what that has to do with anything, but when it clicks, I laugh. "Are you really suggesting smashing the cuff open with a rock?”

"Nevermind, it was a stupid idea,” she says, blushing again and ducking her head.

"Not stupid, just brazen. I don’t think it matters that only Tamlin can open it if it’s broken."

Her head snaps up. "So you think we should?"

I nod; the plan is already forming in my head. "You go in, collect everything, and then break the cuff. I'll winnow both of us to Night. If I pass troop movements and locations to our generals immediately, the surprise attack could be enough to force a surrender."

She thinks about it, and I hope so hard that she’ll agree that I nearly forget to breathe. If she stays here, I’m sure that she’ll hold her own. But for some reason, I’m aching to see her safe in the Night Court.

Her hand curls around the handle of the knife again. “Let’s do this. It won’t be long until he wakes up and wonders where I am.”

I follow her out to the empty hallway, then stand near the door to Tamlin’s office. Without my powers or even the most rudimentary weapon, I feel exposed. But she gives me a nod, and I push aside the anxiety and give her a wink.

Feyre holds her left hand up to the door, and her ring glows. The lock clicks open. There’s a ripple of magic as she walks through the door. My heart starts to pound.

I want to watch her gather everything up, but I can’t expose my back if— no when— Tamlin or his sentries come barreling down the hall.

Compared to the silence, the sound of desk drawers opening and pages turning is deafening. I pray that she finds everything she needs soon.

Then it’s drowned out by the sound of footsteps. Someone is sprinting our way.

Tamlin turns the corner and his face twists into a beastly snarl. “What have you done with Feyre?” he roars.

I brace myself, ready for those talons to slash into me. But instead something sharp slams into my wrist from behind. She’s here.

The cuff falls to the floor, and the magic rushes back into me. I’m whole again.

Tamlin is only a few feet away, calling Feyre’s name. Just as he raises a hand to strike, I grab Feyre and winnow us away, right to the war room in the Moonstone Palace. At the same time, I reach into the minds of my Inner Circle and tell them to meet me there immediately.

Feyre's breathing hard, eyes wild, the hand holding the crystal raised as if she's preparing to strike again.

"You're safe," I say softly. "We did it."

"We did, didn't we?" she says. Her panicked look melts into the most stunning smile I've ever seen.

And that's when the bond snaps.

The force of it sends me stumbling backwards, and she grabs me and tugs me forward so I don’t fall. I’m too overwhelmed to shield, and her relief and my shock surge down the bond.

"Rhysand? What happened?" she says.

But before I can answer, the rest of the Inner Circle bursts in. They freeze at the sight of my scraped up wrist and Feyre clutching my other arm, still in her nightgown. It gives me the second I need to recover my composure.

"This is Feyre Archeron, and those files in her hand are Tamlin's own notes on the position of Spring and Hybern's armies and supply lines,” I say.

Feyre places the files on the table and spreads them out so everyone can see. I wish there were time to introduce everyone properly, but there's so much strategizing to do.

Cassian, Azriel, and I will have to return to the war-camps, and Mor and Amren will have their hands full keeping Velaris and the rest of the Night Court protected and running smoothly in my absence. Feyre just listens, occasionally cutting in with additional information from her time in the Spring Court. It's remarkable how much she's memorized from overheard conversations or brief glances at paperwork on Tamlin's desk.

I can feel her confusion and curiosity through the bond, and it doesn't take a daemati to know that the rest of the Inner Circle is itching to ask questions, too. I wish I didn't have to ignore it, but there's no time to explain.

When everyone has their marching orders, I stand and turn to Feyre. "I'll have Nuala and Cerrridwen show you to your rooms. There may be questions for you that arise regarding the Spring Court, but you should try to rest. It's going to be a long few days for all of us," I say.

Feyre nods. She stands with her back straight and expression grim, as much a soldier as any Ilyrian warrior. "Anything you need," she says.

My instincts are screaming at me to kiss her goodbye, but I can't just yet. For all I know, she's never heard of a mating bond before. And as a human, I don't think she feels it. Instead, I nod, winnow to the war-camps, and hope it's not the last time I see her face.

[sleepless-crows]

i know we think mastermind is kaz and kanej

BUT HEAR ME OUT

nikolai

[bettydonnas]

midnights very blair waldorf coded

[lanzhans]

mastermind was an absolute callout.

[folklorianhaze]

no one understands mastermind the way I do. Taylor wrote it for me specifically