foxcort
"Thorns and all."
๐ท ๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐/๐๐๐ ๐ฟ
๐ฉ๐๐ฉ & ๐ก๐๐๐๐๐ซ ๐๐ฒ ๐ฃ๐ฎ๐๐ข๐ฅ๐ฒ๐๐ซ๐ญ.
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Howlโs Moving Castle - Fan artย by Julia Tveritina
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And the reason I think Rhysta *can* work, despite you know, canon, is that all of Rhys's hostility to Nesta is on Feyreโs behalf. If he and Feyre were not mates, what possible reason could Rhys have against her? If we dont change anything about them other than Feyre then I think Rhys would see someone who was also raised with an exacting mother, with cruel rules, who let down their younger siblings, but had been raised for greatness. Shes brave, tough, wears a mask, scrappy, smart, beautiful. ยฏ\_(ใ)_/ยฏ its not a stretch!
Plus like, acosf was essentially the plot of Nesta becoming high lady of the NC. Like, she belongs to it now in a very real, deep way. In all three States, if we want to call them states: the priestess program, wowing the Con, winning the Rite??? Thats your queen Rhys, I dont know what to tell you.
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Hey, Eris community! We have some questions about Eris that we desperately need answers to. Would you help us figure out some details about our favorite heir to the Autumn Court? We have a series of polls scheduled for the next few weeks. Each will last for one week!ย โค๏ธ
Just a friendly reminder to not argue in the comments - Eris would definitely not approve. ๐ฅ
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Only five little days left! Five roses are meant to express how deeply you love and care for someone, and while roses themselves are a gift, everyone's love language differs. Today's poll is another two-parter so check the reblogs!
#i think feyre is a mix of both acts of service + physical touch#acts of service is pretty self explanatory but i think physical touch is a big one for her too#like the relationship she had with isaac was purely physical#when she risked a moment with tamlin utm#even her relationship with rhysand had lots of physical touch#as for tamlin i think gift giving!#he gifted feyre the paints + gave her family money so SHE wouldnโt have to worry about them#these polls are so fun ๐ฅฐ#feylin#feylinweek#feylinweek2024
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Whatโs your biggest controversial ACOTAR take?
Mine is that I think under completely different circumstances, Rhys & Nesta would be so hot together. In a way that can only truly work in fanfic, where the only thing happening is pure, outright smut that doesnโt really lead anywhere. Enemies banging it out? Sign me up๐
(itโs still fuck canon Rhys though ๐)
#and what i think is even funnier is that if rhys ever told nesta about his motherโs ring#she would 1000% make him get it back for her#<- prev#oh so weโre all having brainblasts in the tags now#everyone in this thread is a freaking genius#like now all im thinking about is nesta sitting pretty on the sidelines while Rhys claws up a gross chimney with the ring#like disheveled af (which he needs to be more of)#rhysta
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Arundhati Roy, โOur country has lost its moral compassโ
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No one is discrediting the student protests. I myself am a student who is partaking in largely student-coordinated protests, drives, campaignsโฆ but I also understand that we are largely missing the point if coverage of these protests overshadows what they are actually protesting forโthe atrocities committed on Palestinians every single day. As the western buzz around this genocide gets more and more coverage, the coverage of the genocide itself sharply declines. Itโs true and I see it every single day. Things are not being reported with the precision and diligence they should be.
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โTell me when you knew,โ (Lucien) demanded, his knee pressing into mine. โThat Rhysand was your mate. Tell me when you stopped loving Tamlin and started loving him instead.โ
I chose not to answer.
โWas it going on before you even left?โ
I whipped my head to him, even if I could barely make out his features in the dark. โI never touched Rhysand like that until months later.โ
โYou kissed Under the Mountain.โ
โI had as little choice in that as I did in the dancing.โ
โAnd yet this is the male you now love.โ
And yet this is the male you now love.
And yet this is the male you now love.
And yet this is the male you now love.
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And for the first time in our lives as Palestinians, we hear a voice that is louder than their voices and their bombs.
Link to the IG reel
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Wait I have another one:
Ship of your choice but Person A accidentally seals the mate bond with Person B after doing body shots and sucking a lime out of their mouth. ๐
The Chemistry of Regret
Okay I had to do college AU Rhysta for this. Hope you like!! This got out of control.
Also the first hands then voice structure is inspired by a line in the fabulous @bittermuire's The Cape which you can read here. Read it!!
Nesta knows of Rhysand Velaris long before she ever has the dubious pleasure of making his acquaintance.
He haunts the Biochemistry department like a spectre.
His overly styled hair gleaming even in the faded newspaper clipping framed outside Professor Wysten's lab.
His black eyes sparkling in picture after picture on the college's socials. Medals and grants and awards the only weight that anchors the Prince of Oรญchad College.
The golden boy of the hallowed halls, gone but not forgotten.
And Nesta, living the cruel life of a fresh PhD student grows to hate that curving smirk of a stranger, his sloping signature on the near-empty bottle of Trypan Blue that Wysten refuses to bin, his crisp embroidered lab coat that lies draped over a chair in the dry lab awaiting the return of its owner.
***
Imitator, the dye taunts each time she stains her cells watching blue seep into their crevices, a damning marker of death.
Imposter, the message Wysten imparts in every gushing compliment he in his absence is bestowed that she in her unfailing presence is never good enough to earn.
Lesser, a voice, that must be his, whispers in her ear as she lies awake and wonders if life should feel easier than this.
***
His return from his year in Paris is anticipated like a public holiday. Outfits planned between centrifuge spins, tables booked at his favourite club.
The days are counted down in blood red Xs on the calendar in the study room and when D-day arrives the entire department leaves in a flurry into the cool chill of a January night.
The building is empty, only she and security remains.
Nesta is eager to take advantage of the free slots on the flow cytometer, normally booked until the wee hours. As the sequins on her dress dance like stars and the machine whirs quietly in the background, she runs her cells and finds solace in solitude.
But her cells are soon studied, peace is temporary and then she's queuing on Court Street to enter the Night Palace.
She can feel the bass in her bones as she enters, the dim lighting making the whirling mass of bodies on the dance floor look like art.
***
She has a plan, stay for a drink, long enough to be seen by the tenured professors, long enough to look like she belongs, long enough that she'll be able to nod and smile at the lunch-time conversation.
Not so long that the loneliness erodes her from the inside out, corroding through tissue and bone.
That is the plan.
But then Gwyn, the pretty lab assistant has Sambuca and Emerie has rum and the strobe lights start looking closer to shooting stars.
With alcohol loosed limbs she remembers how much she likes to dance, how the pain of being seen has never stung when there is a rhythm to movement.
So between shots she moves until she gets lost in the art of writhing bodies.
***
She is on the dance floor, hair loose and glitter trailing from her eyes like tears when she meets him.
First, he is large veined hands tentatively touching her waist, awaiting further permission.
She is Nesta Archeron, made of Sambuca and starlight, so she grinds back onto the stranger, the tall stranger she amends as his body presses against her back.
Then he is voice, rich and smooth, as his lips touch her ear lobe, his clipped accent conjuring schooldays at Eton and summers on yachts.
'You're very beautiful.'
The words hit her like sleet in summer.
How...boring.
She is unimpressed and turns to tell him as such.
She is shocked when finally he is no longer solely hands nor voice but Rhysand Velaris in all his tangible glory.
'You!'
She shouts, struggling to be heard over the pounding music, attempting to create a cavern between them even as the crowd presses in from all sides.
'Me.'
His cocky smile turns into a grimace as he reads the disappointment in her expression.
She does not stay long enough to introduce herself.
Sobriety looms too close for that.
She disappears in the grinding groping bodies until his voice melds with the rising melody.
***
He finds her at the bar.
Of course he does. His ghost has been haunting her for the better part of a year why wouldn't his corporeal form do the same.
'Rhysand Velaris.'
His hand, previously branding its heat on the soft wide curve of her waist, is now outstretched and open.
She extends hers, grasping firmly.
'Nesta Archeron.'
Her smile is a tight thin mimicry of what it should be.
His strong brow raises and his eyes widen.
'You're Nesta Archeron, the new PhD?'
She dips her head ignoring the question, too focused now on arranging her cleavage to attract the bartender.
Rhysand's eyes stay fixed to her face, as she successfully obtains her Tequila shots.
'I've been looking forward to meeting my new lab buddy who has booked every afternoon slot in the wet lab for the next month.'
She feels a grin tug at her lips at his pointed tone.
'You snooze you lose, Velaris.'
And in an impulse she wished she could blame on the undrunk shots before her she snipes,
'If it's a problem get Daddy to build us a new lab.'
His laugh is unexpected and far too enchanting for a handsome face. Because he is handsome, Mother damn him.
'Would you like me then? Because I'm very motivated for you to like me Nesta Archeron.'
He caresses the syllables of her name, his teeth clicking on the t and lingering like he wants to hold the letters a beat too long.
'Why? Because I'm beautiful.'
She scoffs.
His posture stiffens.
'No. Because you're brilliant. From what I've read, from what I've heard.'
A pause.
'Of course, you being beautiful is a welcome addition. Not as beautiful as me though.'
A giggle escapes her because he is ridiculous. This is ridiculous. He isn't allowed to be charming, not when she has decided to hate him.
***
'Let's do shots.'
She gestures clumsily to the glasses almost knocking them in the process.
And because she's lost her mind, for that must be the only reason, she grasps his inner forearm licking the tanned skin, letting her tongue drag lightly along, following a vein towards his elbow, ignoring the electricity that sparks through her body as she does.
He is tense, eyes pools of darkness she could drown in, the leather and chocolate of his cologne muddling her brain.
She salts his arm pushing the slice of lime his way. He obediently inserts it into his mouth, moving like a man dazed, eyes transfixed on her lips.
Like a film reel she sees the next three years play in her head if she carries on with this insanity, awkwardness and avoidance abound.
So why is she compelled to continue this mistake?
***
You'll regret this.
Her brain screams as the Tequila slides a burning fire down her throat.
You'll regret this.
It pleads as she kisses the white crystals from soft skin of his arm, nipping slightly so he moans her name in a way she definitely cannot linger on.
You'll regret this.
It begs as their lips meet in a citrus clash that sets fireworks off behind her eyes. He breaks momentarily to spit out the wedge of lime before returning to capture her lips, kissing her like lonely women dream of, hot and expert and claiming.
***
When she opens her eyes to meet a panting Rhysand, those hands still clutching her like she might mean salvation from an unknown damnation, dark hair tousled from her fingers grasping and tugging mere seconds before.
When he touches his ribs before looking in awe at her, like she is more than her frame can contain.
When he says her name like a prayer, like a curse, and she feels the golden links tying them together in a way science can only vaguely explain, she finds their damnation.
And she knows.
She'll regret this.
#BRUH.#BRUUUUUH#His hand previously branding its heat on the soft wide curve of her waist is now outstretched and open.#canโt stop thinking about this one ๐#and ooo the last couple sentences the way Rhys realizes whatโs happened#WHEN HE SAYS HER NAME LIKE A PRAYER#i love love love the amalgam of magic and modernism#rhysta#๐ชป
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R H Y S T A | Rhysand + Nesta
For @sunlightsage
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Nesta's only knowledge of Illyrians comes from the little she is told. Of course, she will go to Windhaven feeling uneasy when the IC have told her they're all vile then she's asked what she is and if she's a witch the second she arrives.
This is very different to Mor, who is 500, has been around many Illyrians, perhaps fought alongside them and is one of the group who rules over them. Mor should not be arriving in Windhaven and declaring it should be burnt to the ground.
I won't even touch Azriel's views on his own people.
#justice for Illyria/illyrians#mor is just such a stupidly written character#azriel is also stupidly written#emthazar truthers unite
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And the reason I think Rhysta *can* work, despite you know, canon, is that all of Rhys's hostility to Nesta is on Feyreโs behalf. If he and Feyre were not mates, what possible reason could Rhys have against her? If we dont change anything about them other than Feyre then I think Rhys would see someone who was also raised with an exacting mother, with cruel rules, who let down their younger siblings, but had been raised for greatness. Shes brave, tough, wears a mask, scrappy, smart, beautiful. ยฏ\_(ใ)_/ยฏ its not a stretch!
Plus like, acosf was essentially the plot of Nesta becoming high lady of the NC. Like, she belongs to it now in a very real, deep way. In all three States, if we want to call them states: the priestess program, wowing the Con, winning the Rite??? Thats your queen Rhys, I dont know what to tell you.
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DAY FOUR // LOVER @nestaarcheronweek
โYouโre wasted at the Night Court,โ Eris murmured as she twirled, skirts enveloping the two of them. โAbsolutely wasted.โ
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The sick reality is that many of the renowned academics and writers among Gaza's thousands of martyrs will, in twenty years time, be quoted and memorialised by the same universities and institutions that have denigrated them and enabled their slaughter.
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A Court of Thorns and Roses Page Overlays (Part 3)
Artist: @listening_stars_
#OMG FEYRE AND TAMLIN DANCING WITH THE WILLOWISPS!!!#oo the artwork on rhysandโs mind claws is pretty amazing ngl#feylin
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This is what I mean when I say Jewish zionists hallucinate persecution.
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