rue. // queer. // 30s. // i like to build worlds. // blog mostly centered around fantasy, romance, creative writing, and inspiration. // multifandom media.
@RueBerrymore on A03.
18+ ONLY.
Hello, I'm Rue. || I’m in my 30’s and I enjoy reading books, music, role playing, writing fanfic, and being an all around creative.
Firstly: I cultivate a space for adults only. If you're a minor, my page isn't for you. I don't want minors following me, and I certainly don't want asks or messages from minors.
I enjoy so much media. || My current TV, book, and movie obsessions are: True Blood ACOTAR, Vikings, House of The Dragon, Dune, The Vampire Diaries , Scandal, Peaky Blinders, and Misfits.
I write fanfic for Dune (Movies), and the ACOTAR Universe-- this is certainly subject to expand.
(all links go to my A03 account.)
A C O T A R.
The Art of Submission (Nesta x Cassian // wip)
The Shadowsinger's Bride (AFAB!OC x Azriel // upcoming + wip)
Can I Call You Rose? (Elain x Lucien // upcoming + wip)
D U N E.
Someone's At The Door (Feyd x Chani // wip)
The Price of Choice (Feyd x Chani // upcoming + wip)
** I like to think I'm a kind person, and as a kind person that means I have zero tolerance for disrespectful or unkind behavior. This is not a blog that's friendly for bullies, racists, bigotry, transphobia, sexism, or other behavior of the like. I block people, and I very rarely argue. **
Story Teaser: "The Red Key was one of Velaris’ best kept secrets. A Pleasurecraft club that was almost too exclusive and was ran by the Shadowsinger himself. Everyone in the Inner Circle knew about it, and it only grew by word of mouth. Entry was only granted after intense vetting and oaths of secrecy."
Chapter Summary: Nesta learns new things about Velaris.
Nesta fought the urge to run away as she followed Cassian over to the couple.
When Cassian had told her how to interact with people, she had had questions, but her mate told her that she could ask him all the questions she wanted when they got home, and that if he gave answers at that moment it might cause more confusion than anything.
So she had agreed to keep them saved until the end of the day.
“Hori!” Cassian’s voice was joyful as he approached the couple.
Nesta watched as the fae male embrace her mate.
Observe. Only speak to Cassian.
She repeated the the words in her head and bit down on her lip.
“Long time no see, Cas!” Hori’s voice was clear, and sharp.
The man’s tone reminded her a lot of Rhysand’s— this along made her somewhat weary, but the way Cassian embraced him and was nothing but a toothy smile, made her curious of their relationship.
“Oh you know how busy I get with shit.” Cassian ruffled a hand through his hair, shrugging in what appeared to be a sheepish way.
She watched as her mate and the man began to talk, and took the moment to study the fae’s appearance. He had a build similar to Cassian’s, but was a few inches shorter. His hair was black as coal and pulled into a sleek low ponytail. He wore a tight black shirt, and pants that were loose and billowy.
Nesta eyeballed the tattoos that traveled up his arm— long, angular lines that went from his wrist, and disappeared beneath his shirt. She wondered how he came to have them, and if they meant anything. Most of the fae that Nesta met who had tattoos, often talked about the symbology
Nesta’s eyes darted to the woman— she was still hanging in the air, the rope making her twist slowly, until Hori’s hand gently guided it back into it’s original position.
She liked the way that Hori seemed attentive to the woman even though he was in active conversation with Cassian; and by the way female seemed to be in deep relaxation, and even audibly purred at moments of contact— something that made Nesta’s cheeks heat up from how outwardly expressed the pleasure was— she was certain that the fae also enjoyed Hori’s attention.
Nesta was brought sharply out of her thoughts when she heard Cassian say her name.
Unfortunately though, she did not know quite what Cassian had said before he caught her attention.
Her cheeks heated further as both men’s eyes locked on her, and she could see the amused sparkle in Cassian’s eyes.
“Need me to repeat myself?” Cassian couldn’t keep himself from having a shit eating grin when he asked her the question, and Nesta fumed inwardly.
The bastard was eating this up gleefully.
“I do.” She responded tersely, and wished her gaze was as deadly as her knives.
“Meet my Mate— Nesta.” Cassian’s words were enough to smother the irritation that had been brewing in her. Nesta dipped her head in greeting, unsure if she could speak to the other fae male. Her nerves around the peculiar etiquette knotted themselves in her stomach, and she looked up to Cassian cautiously, hoping for guidance.
“You can talk to Hori.” A simple sentence— but the go-ahead made Nesta’s cheeks heat. She enjoyed the way he gave her approval, and she tried not to focus on the way Cassian watched her.
“Hello.” She didn’t offer much as a greeting despite all of her curiosity; she never enjoyed the way any of the fae reacted to her— it always felt as if they were fawning over her and tripping over themselves to cater to her, and maybe in another life she would have enjoyed it… but at current, she did not.
“I saw you observing Ellweyn’s vaeshari.” Hori’s words were direct, and Nesta’s face heated against her will at the knowledge that she hadn’t been nearly as discreet at staring as she had hoped. She hadn’t even realized that Hori had looked at her.
“Vaeshari?” Nesta wracked her brain, thinking through the books the House had given her and the others she had read from Rhysand’s private libraries— none had had words that were similar to the one she had heard.
Hori’s eyebrows raised and he cut a look to Cassian that Nesta couldn’t figure out.
“This,” he plucked one of the intricate rope braids that held Ellweyn up, “-is vaeshari.”
The male patted his partner’s thigh, “When one of the shaelin are tied up, it’s called vaeshari.”
Nesta opened her mouth to ask another question, but before she could get a word out, Cassian interrupted and clapped Hori on the back, laughing. “Nesta knows nothing about Shaimorra— you’re saying words that mean nothing to her.”
“I want to know what they mean.” Nesta quickly piped up, not holding back her curiosity— especially in regards to “shaelin”; the term seemed to not only be an honorific of some sort, but it applied to Elwyn specifically. What was that about? Nesta couldn’t (and wouldn’t) pretend that she wasn’t curious.
Hori and Cassian both exchanged a look— another one that Nesta couldn’t put her finger on.
“Well Hori,” Her mate moved closed to her, and crossed his arms over his chest, “Seems like you’ve given me some work.”
“Seems like I have.” Hori replied with a wink.
Nesta looked between the two, and narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like being included on whatever it was they seemed to be communicating through looks, laughs, and vague words. She could feel her temper rising, and almost as if Cassian could sense it within her, he said a goodbye to Hori and began to escort her away.
The room he led her through was large— but Nesta appreciated the ample lighting from the floor to ceiling windows on one side, and the dark hardwood floors throughout— they matched the beams, and the other exposed wood features.
“Looks like you finally got here.” Azriel’s voice was familiar, and Nesta was happy for that. Even though she was curious about things, she couldn’t help but notice that some of the fae there had begun to notice her and Cassian; it made her uncomfortable to be seen.
Perception was something for Feyre. Not for her.
“Hey Nesta.” Azriel smiled down at her, “I didn’t know Cassian was bringing you.”
Oh.
“I didn’t have a chance to tell you. ” Cassian rolled his eyes, but motioned for them to continue following him.
Nesta felt the silence settle over them as they made their way through a door, into the entry room, and up one of the two grand staircases.
The place seemed bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside.
Was the place enchanted?
Nesta felt like she’d never grow used to the different things the faelands made possible; the difference in life between here and past the wall was…. Stark.
They arrived in front of large double doors; the dark wood had intricate carvings that Nesta had little time to look at, as they entered. The room appeared to be a huge library; but instead of one desk, there were two facing opposite each other, and deeper into the room was a sitting area with a fireplace so large Nesta bet she could stand inside of it, took over the expanse of the back wall.
The moment the doors closed, she let out the longest sigh and made her way to one of the chairs in the sitting area, and sank into it.
“Start talking, Cassian.” Was all she bothered to say.
Even though she held her tongue in the more public areas, she felt more able to talk without restraint in the private area.
She toed off her shoes before crossing her legs, and looking at both Cassian and Azriel expectantly. Someone would need to start talking, and she didn’t care which one of them chose to do that talking. She wanted some sort of answers.
“This is the Red Key.” Azriel was the first of the men to speak.
“What’s the Red Key?” She had no patience for elusivity.
“The Red Key is a Shaimorra pleasurecraft club.” Cassian was the one to speak this time, and Nesta watched as he made himself a drink from the decanter that sat on a low table in the middle of the seating area.
“Shaimorra,” Azriel continued, “is what we practice.”
“Shaimorra?” Nesta questioned further. She had heard Hori say the same word earlier, and much like before, she felt her ears perk up and her attention zero in.
“Shaimorra is the practice of surrender and guidance, that’s centered around interpersonal power dynamics that are sometimes sexual.”
Nesta felt lost by the words, and her eyebrows furrowed together in slight confusion.
“Hori is what we’d call a Shaivor— he’s a Dominant.” Cassian paused for a moment to take a sip of his drink, clearing his throat as it went down. “Elwyn is a shaelin— a submissive to Hori. She willingly gives up control to Hori to guide her in many ways.”
Nesta’s thoughts began to race through her head as the information began to come at her, “How does Hori guide her? How does…” she paused, recalling the terminology they had used, “— how does any Shaivor ‘guide’ a shaelin?”
Cassian and Azriel exchanged glances, and Nesta raised her brow.
“As a Shaivor, we discuss things with our shaelin first… Usually, it depends on what structure the shaelin needs, what sort of desires they have, along with the desires of the Shaivor.”
Cassian paused, letting her have a moment before continuing, “It’s popular for a Shaivor to create structure and control around the shaelin’s sexual desires, as well as tasks around their personal life too— like what they wear, what times they come home, alcohol or drug consumption… Really, it depends on the agreement between both the Shaivor and shaelin.”
The words hit Nesta like a boulder, knocking her over into a pit of confused curiosity. She could not fathom what was so enticing about giving up the control one had to someone else— especially not in regards to sex.
Almost as if reading her mind, her mate spoke, “Giving up control can be quite a freeing experience; and in the years that I’ve trained shaelin I’ve found that many enjoyed being able to have moments where they simply existed; where choices were taken off their plate.”
“You’ve trained shaelin?” Nesta felt a ripple of vicious jealousy roll through her. She did not like the idea of Cassian being with anyone, even if she realistically knew that her Mate had probably been with his fair share of fae women.
“Of course I have.” Cassian laughed a little, offering Nesta smile. “I’ve trained both shaelin, and Shaivor alike.” He straightened a bit, holding himself higher with pride, “I’m a very skilled Shaivor, and I enjoy helping other Shaivor find their skills, build them, and grow. Sometimes I’d help shaelin who might need more rigorous training and help there.”
Nesta could tell Cassian was very proud of himself and what he accomplished with the pleasurecraft, and even though a great deal of Shaimorra sounded either intense or confusing, Nesta enjoyed the way Cassian’s eyes lit up as he took the lead on the conversation.
“A Shaivor’s greatest pride should be in their ability to guide and train their novaryn into becoming full shaelin.” Nesta nodded though the terminology tripped her up for a moment, and listened to Cassian as he continued.
“Even though what’s going on currently in the main area is pretty tame,” Cassian fixed her with a look, “Shaimorra can be, and often is highly erotic and intimate in nature.”
Nesta felt her cheeks flush- both from Cassian’s words, and the way his eyes seemed to devour her from top to bottom, and from the fact she was keenly aware of Azriel observing them both.
The entire thing was causing her to feel flustered in an intense way she hadn’t felt too many times before. She couldn’t deny her curiosity in the things Cassian brought up, and even though she didn’t understand the appeal of submitting so many aspects of one’s life to a Shaivor, she could see from the enthusiasm that Cassian spoke with, that many others did.
Maybe she would sit out there a while and observe some more.
“What do you think?”
Nesta’s focus centered itself once more on Cassian, both he and Azriel were looking at her expectantly— her cheeks heated again, and she knew Cassian would know she had gotten sidetracked in her own thoughts.
“Can you— ” She stammered as she looked between the two men.
By the cauldron, the way her voice faltered had Nesta ready to leave the room and demand Cassian take her back home.
Instead, she cleared her throat and tried her sentence again. “Can you repeat… The question?”
She hoped that a question had been asked, and she felt her skin prickle with nervous embarrassment. She cared about what Cassian told her, and hoped that her absent mindedness wouldn’t give the impression that she was dismissive of something he felt clearly passionate about.
Cassian and Azriel looked between each other again, and Nesta couldn’t help but feel that something unspoken passed between them.
“I asked Cassian if he could come back to the Red Key to work a bit, and wanted to know if you wanted to join him if he said yes.” Azriel was the one to speak this time, and the question took Nesta by complete surprise.
"Yes." The word left her lips before she could change her mind, and her heart hammered faster in her chest.
She knew both Cassian and Azriel would be able to hear it— their fae senses were much more attuned to finer sounds.
"I need something to do. I'm tired of Feyre watching my every move, and I'm kind of going crazy… Why not?" The words tumbled from her messy and rushed, and on the inside she felt shaky with adrenaline that felt almost akin to panic.
It excited her versus made her feel afraid or anxious.
"Excellent." Azriel clapped Cassian on the shoulder before anyone could say anything else, and stood up.
The action prompted her to stand to, and she squared her shoulders with a sense of false confidence. She'd prepare herself more. She felt she had some things to think about, or at least learn. She'd have to ask the House of it had any books on Shaimorra.
"You can start tomorrow."
Well fuck.
-----
Notes: I hope y'all enjoyed! It took forever to get it to you but that's okay. :) Big TY to @shinyfortheshow for showing me a better fucking post layout for putting up stories.
Shaimorra - BDSM Practice
Shaivor — Dominant
Shaelin - Submissive
Novaryn - Trainee’s to become Moonsworn subissives
Cethrin - Trainee’s to become Dominants
Velis - “Surrender.”
Morrathi - Dominatrix
The Bound - Official Collaring Ceremony
Moonsworn - What is done at the Collaring Ceremony
First-Kneeling - Formal Event for new Shaelin’s
Vaeshari - Rope Bondage
Bond Etiquette - The etiquette Shaelin follow when in company with Shaivor
“In Shaimorra, devotion is never taken — only offered.”
What goes on in my head: oh my god I have the perfect scene to write for this part!! it’s gonna be so good and well pieced together and beautiful and my readers are gonna explode bc of the pace and genius of it!
what I end up writing: Jack angrily grabs at the chair and tosses it aside. “I’m angry.” He says, angrily.
