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YOUNG GOD | RHYSAND [ON HOLD]
- LETTURE 115,773
- Voti 4,105
- Parti 32
Everyone in Prythain wanted freedom from the Hybern's commander, Amarantha.
Aadya Solace was not of the Fae, not of Prythain. Like the High Lords of Prythain she too was tricked by Amarantha into the blight.
After 50 years, when Feyre enters the spring court under the Treaty's rules all hope is returned.
How will Aadya break the curse on her and the entirety of Prythain to return back home, all while fighting of her unknown temptation to be with the High Lord of the Night Court?
Find out in "YOUNG GOD"
Rhysand × oc
Starts in
A court of thorns and roses[completed]
A court of Mist and Fury[ongoing]-
_____________________________
"You can't stop me, you know that. I'm everything you can't control."
"If I cannot bend Heaven, I will raise Hell."
"I have been trying to go home my whole life--- still haven't found it yet."
[Still writing]
[Unedited]
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A Court of Crystal and Midnight
Cassiopeia Azalea, the daughter of Amarantha and Rhysand, was a child born of torture and sexual assault. To her mother, she was nothing more than a weapon, a tool with immense power provided by her blood to spark fear in those who would question her reign. To her father, she was the light in a world of which he was surrounded by darkness so deep, he felt like he was drowning. His beautiful little girl. Every feature that dawned on her skin was a replica of his. The Mother had blessed him in making his daughter a copy of him instead of his rapist. When the girl was born, Amarantha demanded that she was to be sent away with her father. Rhysand was to name her, raise her, and train her power until it was advanced enough that it could benefit her rule. The High Lord took it upon himself to name her after his brothers, whom he had missed more than life itself, whom he might never see again. This story will follow her life as well as the events of every ACOTAR book and even farther beyond the books. It will take quite some time for this story to be published, so it may follow ACOTAR 6, but I do not know. It depends 🤷♀️, but it will take its own route whenever the ACOTAR books are finished. 👍 Started: July 26th, 2025 Finished: ???
My Darling, Cathyrena
What if Rhysand had a child with Amarantha while he was imprisoned Under the Mountain? (One he never knew about..?) There is desire in the familiar ache of agony. There is a sort of comfort in spilled blood that drip from walls. Cathyrena pressed the magenta lipstick to her Mother's lips. Watching the brush stain pale skin and dress up a monster in angel clothing. Her jewels shimmered and shined with a type of mocking cruelty. There is a moment where she wonders what color Amarantha would bleed if she were to stab her in the eye. That night, the same violet dress Cathyrena matched her lips with laid in the empty bedroom floor. It's star-like gems still intact. The bed covers wrinkled and pillows thrown. Amarantha liked to have Rhysand in the brightest of Night when the Moon was full. She picked up the fabric softly. She had noticed the High Lord of Night scent mixed with her Mother's. Her indigo eyes flickered back to the mattress where he was raped. She wondered if he liked the dress. Cathyrena has all the worst traits of her parents. Darkness and Murder. But, what if she inherited all their best ones too? Its a shame Amarantha doesn't have any.
Two hundred years ago Rhysand lost his mother and sister in a grueling murder. But what if that sister had survived? What if the head in that box was just a tree-stump, transformed to look exactly like her? What if she had instead been sold for her knowledge on the mysterious Night Court? And what if that sister would now, just a few years after the war, find her way back, but with agendas of her own? ****************************************************************************** "Alright, oh wise one, my need for wisdom has run out now, so you can be on your way now" I waved my hand. "That's cold" Rhys put a hand over his heart, " I thought we were having a big-bro-little-sis talk here." I rolled my eyes, but he slid an arm around my shoulder: "We both already know what you'll do anyway." "Oh, we do, is that right?" He nodded: "You always been so predictable, if you would write murder-mysteries everyone would know from the beginning who killed the victim." "That's weirdly specific, how long have you been sitting on that one?" I snorted. "Since you insulted my taste in art" he sniffed theatrically. I laughed: "You are one petty High Lord." "I don't even know what to say to that insolence" he shook his head.
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