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azsazz · 2 months

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Lavender Haze

Rhysand x Rhysand's Sister's Best Friend/Virgin!Reader

Summary: Having a crush on your best friends older brother isn't ideal. Especially when he has one back.

Warnings: Flirting, sexual taunting and begging.

Word Count: 3,065

Belongs to the timeline and predates Clandestine Love

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“Where’s Ara?” you ask your dinner mate as Einar places a steaming dish before you. The savory scents of the herbs he used on the fresh meat fill your senses, and your mouth waters at its deliciousness. Vegetables swim in a thick cream sauce that looks all too delectable, and the mound of cut potatoes doused in flavor has your jaw tingling. You simply cannot wait to dig in, only able to keep yourself from diving straight into your dinner as the family cook replenishes your half drank glass of sparkling fae wine. “Thank you, Einar.”

The chef dips his head in response then spins on his heel, quickly leaving the room. A bite of guilt pinches your stomach as you watch the green-skinned, normally bright-eyed fae stalk back to the kitchen to prepare dessert. It’s not like Rhysand is that much like his father. While his personality and aura tend to lean to the more arrogant side, it’s usually attributed to the fact that he is a young, confident male, eager to bask in all of the indulgences son of the High Lord is offered.

Said male sita across from you, pinning you to your seat with searing violet eyes. His spine is rigid and his fingers are curled tightly around his utensils as he watches your gaze follow the chef scurrying from the room.

He wants to fire him, no matter how delicious his food is.

Rhysand doesn’t have a right to feel this way. He doesn’t like the rage that coils his stomach, that lights his bones on fire when your soft eyes meet those of any other male in the court. Ever since you’d worked up the courage to kiss him all those months ago, it had ignited something inside of him even he couldn’t seem to make sense of. He shouldn’t be feeling this conflicted over his little sister's best friend of all people, but even he couldn’t ignore your otherworldly beauty, the musical laughter he always ached to hear, feel those gorgeous eyes roaming down his body while you thought his attention was elsewhere.

The following months after that fateful night had been spent in the Illyrian camps, avoiding you. He’d tried occupying his mind with training or drinking with Azriel and Cassian until he couldn’t remember what it felt like to have your lips pressed against his own, your breasts pressed against his chest, and your scent burrowing so deeply into his soul he might never forget it.

You couldn’t be drowned by any female nor male he fell into bed with since. Rhys, as sick as it might be to admit it, had resorted to imagingin his partners were you when he couldn’t seem to get off. Horrible, he knows, but you’ve planted that seed and his feelings are an overgrown slew of vines, constricting his inner being.

And now you’re here, across from him. And he’s here, alone with you. And Ara is not here like she should be and his mother isn’t here to form a buffer and his father is away doing Mother knows what and Cassian and Azriel aren’t here to tell him how horrible this idea is, or how if he’d only fuck you it would get these feelings out of his system, at least, the former of the two would say.

Rhysand is in a dangerous situation right now.

He forces his body to relax, slumping back in his seat with the vanity only the prince of Night can convey. Masking his face into something a little more open—a little more nice—he stalls, cutting into the meat on his own plate. Blood spurts as he takes his knife to it, and Rhysand has to force himself from imagining it to be a certain chef's blood instead. “Mother whisked her into the city for dinner.”

“So it’s only you and I?” you blush, stabbing a potato with your fork. It has been so long since you’d last seen Rhysand, and it seems the few months he’s been away have made him even more handsome than you remember, even if his skin looks a little paler from the blistering winters in the mountains and the drink he hasn’t let up on since.

“It seems so,” Rhys answers, chewing.

“And no one else,” you murmur, almost breathless as your heart begins to race in your chest at the thought of what you and him could be getting into all alone, if he hadn’t decided to run from you.

Rhysand quirks a brow, looking down the table as if looking for someone else, and replies, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Asshole,” under your breath, and Rhys fails to bite back his smirk. Both of you fall silent as you eat, only the sounds of your hammering heart and utensils filling the void in the luxurious dining room. You’re not sure how the family doesn't feel lonely like this, eating at the table built for an army. You can’t even hear Einar shuffling about in the kitchen, no clanging of pans or low curses if he creates something his perfectionist self doesn’t deem a ‘creation of the Gods.’

You can’t help but to glance at Rhysand, drinking in the sight of him. His straight nose, the curve of his cupid’s bow as he places a spoonful of vegetables and cream sauce in his mouth. His thick lashes are dark, so dark it looks like he’s let Ara around him with some of her kohl again. They’re long as well, brushing the apples of his cheeks when he looks down at his plate, and you’re envious of them.

Too long you’ve gone without seeing him. The most dramatic male you’ve ever set your sights on, running from you after you’d finally worked up the courage after months of pining to kiss him. It was after Ara had fallen asleep and you found yourself on the balcony, gazing up at the stars, his company warm and welcoming.

It had been everything to you then, the confidence you felt, the rush of adrenaline as you caught him off guard, the feel of his lips against yours, soft still, even if they were wind-chapped from the long flight. He hadn’t reacted, you hadn’t given him the time to, yanking yourself back just as quickly as you leaned in and running off to Araphel’s room, your mind screaming at you that it had been a horrible idea.

But you couldn’t ignore the emotions spilled between the both of you, the times where his hand had brushed yours or his touch lingered too long when he’d muse your hair, stroking the shell of your ear. You couldn’t ignore the heated looks Rhys shot you every time you spoke to another male, nor the way he always found an excuse to interrupt you, guiding you away from them with a large hand on the small of your back.

And maybe it was your silly little heart for wanting him. For crushing on your best friend's older brother who exudes confidence and can have any female in the court he wants. Any female on the continent, even.

The silence is damning, though, and you wish you could be how you were the night you’d kissed him, sanguine and bright with the idea that this could be your true love's first kiss. Of course, the fleeting press of his lips was enough to solidify many things for you, but you’d been unsure about Rhysand’s feelings on the matter, and by the time you’d found the courage to talk to him about what had happened, he’d already fled back to the mountains.

You’d kissed plenty of males since then, dragging Ara for nights out at Rita’s because Rhysand and his friends always raved about it. A part of you thought that he might walk in and see you in another male's arms, tear you away like the warrior-prince he is, but sadly, it hadn’t happened.

And you have to say that you’re more than a little confused. He’d been blatantly glaring at Einar while the chef served your food. Had he heard about the kiss you shared with the young chef when Donan hadn’t allowed Araphel permission to go out one night and you spent it with the staff the High Lord kept around the house? It was all for a silly drinking game, but the green-skinned fae’s cheeks had been bright pink after the both of you stumbled back from the pantry, lips bruised and eyes shining bright with liquor. Maybe he had overheard some of the handmaiden's gossipping about it after all these weeks? Or maybe, the darkness always knows.

Now, the both of you are here, alone, staring at each other over the delectable meals prepared by the chef you’ve tasted once before. It hadn’t been anything like the peck you’d shared with Rhysand. In that millisecond of the brushing of your lips your world had shifted, body set alight with shooting stars and setting free the wild butterflies in your stomach.

He has that glint in his eyes, the same one he always gets when he’s watching you, the one that heats your very core. And as you chew the potatoes in your mouth, you muster that confidence into yourself once more.

You will it into the marrow of your bones, rolling your shoulders as you prepare yourself to get exactly what you want. If there is no one here to interrupt, then the stage is set.

“Whoops,” you feign, allowing a drip of cream sauce to slip off the end of your utensil on the way to your mouth. It lands on the bare skin between the plunging fabric of your dress, and you catch Rhysand tracking the movement as you reach for your napkin to dab at your skin. “Spilled a little.”

Rhysnad hums, “You should be more careful, darling. Wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours, now would you?”

“No,” you agree, ever the dream of poised elegance. You pop a vegetable into your mouth, chewing for a moment, before continuing. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my dress at all. But, if it’s meant to be, I can always have another one made.”

In that moment, you know you’ve got him. The stars in his violet eyes wink out as darkness settles in, pinning you to your chair. His look sends a shiver up your spine and you know that he is no longer hungry for the food plated before him.

Rhysand flares his wings a little and bites back a curse. For too long he’s been living at the Illyrian camps. There’s no one here he has to compete with for your attention, no one he needs to show off his wingspan to, though, by the way that your half-lidded eyes trace across the membranous skin of them, perhaps he’ll flare them wide when you’re beneath him.

It’s a line that he hasn’t crossed with you yet, one that he promised himself that he wouldn’t. You’re his little sister’s best friend for Mother’s sake, not just another female simpering after him because of his familial ties. You’re…much more than that, and he shouldn’t be thinking about crawling across this fucking table and licking that cream off of your chest and burying his head between your breasts.

“Meant to be,” he echoes, and you hum, tilting your head back with the motion. The exposed skin of your neck calls to him, even more so when you swipe a finger, capturing the sauce and popping it into your mouth to suck on. Your cheeks hollow exaggeratedly, and his cock strains painfully in his pants. He growls your name, a tenor of darkness that curls through your body like the icey patches of snow on the way into the city.

“What was that Rhys?” you ask, batting your eyelashes now. The meal in front of you is long forgotten, your hunger for this male insatiable. The way Rhysand makes you feel, despite only sharing a whisper of a kiss, well, you think you could be mates someday. “Did you need something?”

“I need you to stop doing that before I come over there and make you stop myself.”

You moan a little, legs falling wide under the table. “I think I might like that, though.”

Rhysand’s nostrils flare as he drinks in the scent of your arousal, thick between your thighs.

“You’re supposed to be a Lady, darling. Who taught you to speak like that?” he purrs, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the table. You know that he’s only doing it to try and dispel the tension leaking from his body. You can scent it in the air, the raw, heady smell of him that threatens to send you right to your knees.

“You,” you moan in response. You can feel him creeping into your mind, watching. Waiting.

“And you always listen to your superiors, don’t you, darling?”

“Yes,” you hiss, squirming in your seat as those black claws of his rake gently across your mind. Your fingers curl around the arms of your chair, your spine arching at the soft caress. “Rhys, please…I need you to touch me.”

It’s a simple request, one he’s always indulged you in.

In a moment he’s gone from his chair only to appear behind you, winnowing far faster than stalking around the edge of the table to reach your seat.

He looms over you like a touch of darkness crowding you in, and you revel in it. The hue of his eyes is a dangerous violet, set with lightning striking in the distance instead of stars. It lights you up, your breath turning faster, the beating of your heart thunderous in the silence of the dining room.

You can see the war in his eyes when you tilt your head back, resting it on the back of your chair. You press your breasts out a little, and watch with rapt attention as his eyes flicker down the front of your dress before he rips them away, the line of his mouth tightening at your hidden tease of a smile.

In your head, late at night, you’ve touched him; a hand around his silky, long cock, mouth pressed to his desperately, too. He’s tasted your slick on his tongue, reveled in it, hardly able to hold himself back from crawling up your body and fucking you how he wanted.

But you’ve never had sex before, and as much as you want to, as much as you’ve tried, Rhysand has been holding back.

Maybe it’s because he’s nervous to cross that line with you. You’re his little sisters best friend for fucks sake, and he’s going to be High Lord someday. Sure, he’s slowly making his way through the camp girls, trying not to grunt your name when he fucks into them, because you’re never far from his mind.

Maybe it’s because he’s scared, if his sister or father ever found out. Araphel might be happy for the both of you. It’s a thought he has less often than the opposite, if she’s upset that he’s stealing one of her only true friends, and he doesn’t want that.

Maybe he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself back.

Your name is a growl on his lips. A warning, one you don’t have it in you to heed. So you go with your next best idea, taunting.

“I guess I’ll have to drag Ara down to the city when she gets back then,” you say with a sad sigh. You pick up your fork and force your eyes from Rhysand’s burning ones. You shrug a little, spearing vegetables with your fork. “Fuck whatever male I come across there.”

Rhysand is hardly able to hold himself back from baring his teeth. He won’t allow that, ever.

You can feel the tension roiling in his body as he stands at your back, his food long forgotten. You’re not faring much better with the ache pulsing between your legs and the dinner that’s turned to mush in your mouth.

“I’ll turn any male that touches you to mist.”

“Are you planning on doing that to yourself, too?” you quirk a brow as you glance his way, faking your disinterest despite the way that your core goes molten at his words.

Rhysands eyes darken in response, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

Your words are working, you can see it in the way that he holds himself back, body nearly shaking at every thought you’re planting in his mind. You know he’s on the verge of cracking, that he wants this just as badly as you do, so you continue.

“What if I told you that I wasn’t a virgin anymore. Would you fuck me then, Rhysand?”

“What?” His voice takes on a dark tone, the stars winking out from his eyes.

“If I told you that chef Einar was the one to do it, to bend me over his worktop and fuck me, what would you say then, Rhys?”

“I’d say you’re a liar. And that I’ll kill him either way.”

“If I spread my legs for him just like this,” you continue, leaning back in your seat and opening your thighs wide. His fingers ball into fists but he doesn’t move from his spot, still planted behind you, trying his best to ignore the way your scent hits him like a sword to the gut. “And let his hands roam down my body just like this—” You startle at the loud sound coming from the kitchen, pots falling to the floor in succession. It makes your hands that you’re dragging down your body falter, and before you can continue, your wrists are pinned in Rhysand’s harsh grip, his breath heavy against your throat.

“You should be very, very careful about what you’re going to say next, darling,” his growl sends your bones rattling, shivers wracking your spine. You wish it weren’t the harsh wood at your back but instead his warm body, holding you tight.

“I want you to fuck me, Rhys,” you gasp, and it sounds like a desperate mewl. “I need you to fuck me.”

Rhysand’s mouth is a whisper against your skin, a brand of night.

“If I’m going to fuck you, darling,” he purrs and your insides melt. “Everyone is going to know it.”

#rhysand x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #rhys x reader #rhysand #rhys acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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etheries1015 · 2 months

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Etheries hello! If you're open to requests right now, could you write something for twst where they find out (gender neutral but presumably afab) reader is pregnant with their child? I'd love to request for Azul, Vil, Malleus, and Rollo specifically but any others you think would be fun to write would be fun to read too. Thank you!!

YYYAAAA!!! I LOVE THIS CONCEPT Twst men with children make me so giddy inside hehehehe. Especially the non-humans for some reason, like Fae and Mer folk aosiefjlskadjf

You're pregnant!! Their reaction?

you know what, I decided to throw in how many daughters/sons I'd think they would have, too. For shits and giggles.

Featuring: Azul, Vil, Malleus, and of course I need to add my baby girl Lilia <3 I'm sorry, I really can't write Rollo, I sat here for an hour trying to think of something, but I suppose he is where my creativity halts... my apologies. I hope you like this nonetheless!

General warnings: Afab reader, but no pronouns are used. I feel like there is obvious malleus favoritism because I think he's a huge simp that wants a bunch of babies LMFAOOO, there's so much to write on him. And Lilias is a little bit more on the angsty side of things...but overall fluffy! Not very proofread either <3

Azul

He is BEYOND anxious. More anxious than he had ever felt in his entire life. You? His lovely significant other, pregnant, with HIS child? His offspring?

Almost faints at the news. When you tell him the news, he just stares at you with wide eyes and jaw ajar.

He is happy, truly, but he's honestly a mess. Will this be a mostly human child? Will you be giving birth to an octo-egg? Will they need to be birthed in the water of the sea? So many uknown variables and questions swim in his mind, but his first plan of action is to hug you tightly and sob into your shoulder.

CONSTANT doctor checkups. He's asking you to go more often than they would recommend, but he can't help it. He needs to be 10000% certain that you are going to be okay and find out what form his child will be taking.

Imagine if it's twins, oh my gosh. He would actually faint.

his children will have a never-ending supply of love from Uncle Jade and Uncle Floyd

Weird presents, probably ingesting food from the sea by his recommendation, prenatal potions, and bed rest. If he read it, you were doing it. Your health was his number one priority.

Azul is probably leaning towards a traditional father, going to work and getting as much profit as possible to support you and his children. But of course, he will take a significant amount of time off to help you and any obstacles that come with having a mer-folks child.

On the sweeter side...

His hands will be trembling ever so slightly, with tears in his eyes every time he feels your stomach. He will kiss your stomach, and lay on your lap to be close by. He can't believe he has come so far in life- to the point where he has a beautiful significant other such as yourself and a child on the way.

He worries about many things, finances, being able to get the most out of life, if he will be able to provide for you and this child, and the kind of life his child will have.

Kind of hopes that his child is mostly human. He was bullied for his species, being slow, pudgy, and whatnot. That's not the life he wants for his children if they end up looking more like him.

You're able to calm his nerves, though. All in all, he is incredibly excited to meet his new baby, and will be doing so by his beloveds side <3

I personally see him having one child. Probably a boy, probably an easy baby. I don't think Azul would want more than one child.

Vil

the moment he saw that positive pregnancy test, he had a conflicting wave of emotions.

Of course his outward reaction was to hug you, stroke your head, and pepper your face in kisses. Of course, the news elated him, he seemed calm and collected enough, but there were many worries in his mind.

He doesn't want to accidentally "ruin" his child.

Vil was always in the face of cameras, the face of the public's wary eye, and was hyper-focused on his image and how others may perceive him.

He would hate to accidentally subject his child to the same watchful eye of the public and create this whole image that he needs to be perfect. He wants this child to grow up how they choose, with good values, instead of fearing what may come out of the public opinion.

always hiding you and shielding you from paparazzi. He wanted to hide the news that you were pregnant until later down the line. There are some crazy fans out there, and he would never risk something happening to you. Face masks and disguises were not unknown to you from dating him already at this point, but it was almost as if it came out tenfold.

Rook and Epel = sweetest most doting uncles ever!

Vil had to slap Rook on the head when he felt like Rook was getting a little too handsy with your baby bump.

Epel made sure you had the best batch of apples straight from the farm! Good for the baby, he says!

Vil loves playing music for you and his child, piano, singing...he loves it. it's great bonding for the both of you. He'd hum and sing songs to your stomach while rubbing it gently.

Finances will never pose a problem. Another thing that was never a problem, was Vil going out of his way to take off work and make sure he was there to properly take care of you. You never felt abandoned and alone despite his busy schedule and the fact he was always out doing some sort of movie shoot or commercial, he would never hesitate to take off or call in if you were having a particularly rough day.

Overall, he's excited! He hopes the baby grows up in their own skin and individuality, making choices for themselves when it comes to their career path. And a little side note...he really liked how cute you looked waddling around pregnant with a baby bump. Heuehue.

I can envision you and Vil possibly having two-three children, pretty even in age difference. Depends! I think he would like a big family, get a home with plenty of space. I can see him with both boys and girls, I think I see Vil being a really good "girl dad" tho.

Malleus

absolutely ecstatic. He wanted this so so so bad. He was over the moon. He held back an embarrassing display of giggling and fangirling over the fact he impregnated you, instead opted with a smile and a "Wonderful."

You sometimes wonder if he purposefully did something to result in your pregnancy because I like to think he's a little bit insane like that, but it's okay! You don't mind!

This man wants so. many. kids. Half-fae Half human children run around the castle bringing it to life and showing off the world the unity between humans and faes. He doesn't care if anyone else doesn't agree with this, he on the other hand is absolutely bemused by you and the fact you are bearing his children.

Will they come out as eggs needing to be hatched? How long will it take to hatch with your nonmagical side? Will they have mostly human attributes? Will his fae genetics be so dominant that it's like a bunch of little copies of him? Will his child have your ears and his eyes? and vise versa? will his child come out looking just like he did, in a full dragon form, or will his child come out like a normal human? He has asked ALL of these questions and more. He is so excited.

Buys a lot of clothes, builds rooms in the castle (yes, rooms. because he knows you will have more of his children and wants to be prepared.) "Can never have enough to be prepared for all outcomes," He says. Whatever floats his boat, I suppose!

Appoints the most skilled doctors there is in the Valley. You are always, without a doubt, taken care of. He reads piles upon piles of parenting books, he's always by your side, to the point where sometimes he brings you into important meetings just to be sure you were in his sights.

He vows his children will never feel the crushing lonliness he did as a child. He vouches to always be availble to have meals with his children, to play with his children, and be active in their learning process. He will allow them to travel all over and gain knowledge, and be certain they will never feel like they are missing out on anything.

He LOVES your baby bump. At night in bed he will press his ear up against your stomach, rub it, kiss it, talk to it. He is so infatuated with you and your body. Kisses every single stretch mark, and his hands are all over you. Seeing you pregnant with his child stirs up some sort of desire to keep you that way, but he tries to...push down this part of him. For the most part. Heuheu.

And when you two are sleeping, his dragon tail always comes out to wrap around you protectively. It's his way of making sure both of you are safe through the night because sevens forbid anything happens to his beloved and their child(ren).

Honestly, I am a firm believer that Malleus would have twins, for some reason. Two hatchlings! Together! A boy and a girl. (I have a whole fic idea for this...you'll probably see it one day. heuheu.) or two boys. I think it would be super chaotic with two twins with big draconic features and attitudes, alot of running around and mischief in the house!! He would of course go on to have more children with you. I think it may become an addiction for him. Or not! I can also see him being content with two.

Lilia

Honestly, when you first gave him the news, he was uncertain how to feel. He inquired if you were serious,him raising a child at his age? He wasn't certain he'd be able to do it. He raised Silver, and now that his magic reserves were dwindling, he was worried he wouldn't be able to fully be there for you and your baby.

"Lilia...i'm pregnant." Once those words left your lips, his normal silly demeanor dropped slightly. He had a thoughtful look upon his face, eyes wide staring at you. He asked if you were certain, and it was initially a long and deep discussion about your future together and how things will pan out.

After talking it out, a few tears and heartfelt moments, Lilia smiled brightly and gave you the biggest hug and kiss on the cheek. He started to become a little more excited! And once you shared the news with Silver, Malleus, and Sebek, they were more than happy to pitch in a helping hand.

Honestly, I think as he saw your baby bump grow, so did his excitement. He of course loved the children he adopted more than anything in the entire world, but something about looking at you holding your tummy full of his very own blood, it felt...different.

He was nervous, for sure. This was a child that was going to carry his lineage, his very own DNA coursing through that baby. He wasn't sure how things would turn out but prayed that this baby would have a life of peace and acceptance, unlike his war-filled days and alienation for being a lesser type of fae.

He was OBSESSED with how you looked pregnant. He could get used to this sight, you waddling around, swollen feet... for more in-depth details about how he felt about you being pregnant, you can take a read at this fic I wrote a while ago about it. All in all, he pampers you to death. Rubbing your feet, kissing your stomach, tracing your stretch marks with his fingers...oh he could truly get used to this.

He does fear what the future may hold. He wants all of his children to see him at his strongest, not to see him slowly give into old age as his magic fades to nothing. You may have to reassure him a few times throughout your pregnancy that you and this child will love him no matter what, and remind him that YOU are magicless as well. And Lilia would make an amazing father, with or without his "power." It's his personality and determination as an amazing, child-loving figure that will give this child a life to look forward to.

Once he gets over the insecurities about becoming a father to a new half-fae, half-human baby, he starts to dig up old parenting books he used to have.

He will give this baby, and you, as much love as he possibly can <3\

I can see Lilia with a girl! Probably just one baby, because he can only handle so much anymore! He would be an AMAZING girl dad. He would be a great father regardless of the gender of the baby, but I can really see him with a daughter for some reason. The visions are strong with this one.

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anneapocalypse · 5 months

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I absolutely love Urianger's walking-on-water scene, and I think what I love most about it is how much he's trying not to ask for help and what that says about him and where he's at right now.

At first glance it's easy to respond just as Alisaie does, gods above Urianger you have two friends with you who can breathe underwater, just ask, but the thing is he is trying so hard right now not to ask any more of the Warrior of Light than he already has. Look at how different this is from the early game's "Primal needs slaying? Dangerous thing needs doing? The Warrior of Light will do it!" coming from everyone. Urianger in particular is agonizingly aware of how much he has asked of all of his friends but especially Minfilia and the WoL. He knows what they went through to save the First and he knows it was ultimately all because of him that any of the Scions were dragged into this in the first place.

And sure, it's easy to poke fun at him for trying to walk on water rather than learn to swim, as Alphinaud does (and look, the twins have Urianger-roasting privileges, I'm not picking on them), but from another angle, he went and sought the help of the fae again at who knows what cost just to try and get around what I think from his dialogue is a genuine fear of deep water, just so he could handle this himself and not have to lean on his friends any more than he already has. And when it doesn't work, he's obviously embarrassed, not just at the indignity of falling in the water and having to be rescued, but also because he failed at something he's supposed to be good at, magic.

And of course, when Bismarck asks for help with the barnacles, the obvious thing to do is to ask the Warrior of Light and Alisaie. But his pride is still stinging from the previous failure and he just... doesn't want to ask any more of his friends than he has.

If he could, I think it would always be Urianger's instinct to handle everything himself and never involve anyone else, never ask for anything, never be a burden. That might even work if he didn't have an enormous heart that was always trying to help and do the greatest good and save the world--though it still wouldn't be good for him, in the end, because it would just isolate him further. He's still in the process of learning that not only can he not do it all alone, no one wants him to!

(Edited to add: I am still in post-Shadowbringers and haven't played Endwalker yet, so no spoilers please!) Update: I have finished Endwalker, I am FREE.

#urianger augurelt #god he kills me #that unhealthy self-isolation despite the fact that you love and care for people is so relatable #anne plays ffxiv #afk by the aetheryte #shadowbringers spoilers

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soulofstarsandink · 10 months

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FORESHADOWING IN ACOTAR YOU MAY HAVE MISSED

*Spoilers*

1. Feyre painted the night sky on her drawer in the cottage.

2. Feyre had heard of Rhysand long before she met him. She recalled hearing of “One High Fae that could turn your bones to dust from a hundred yards away.”

3. One of the first things Lucien says to Feyre is that her eyes “are like stars.”

4. When first arrived at the Spring Court, Feyre unknowingly dresses herself in Night Court colours. (A dark blue tunic, another tunic “one of purple so deep it could have been black.”)

5. When Lucien and Feyre encounter the Bogge, Feyre distracts herself by thinking of “a starry, unclouded night sky, peaceful and glittering and endless.”

6. Rhysand appears as a “shadow I could never quite glimpse” in Feyre’s nightmares before they met. “Behind me - a shadow lurked - no, watched. I didn’t dare turn to look at it, to see who might be within the shadows, observing.”

7. Amarantha appeared in Feyre’s nightmares before she knew of her, as a “A pale, faceless woman dragging her bloodred nails across my throat” - a nightmare of Rhysands perhaps?

8. When the Suriel told Feyre to “Stay with the High Lord”, it didn’t specify which High Lord.

9. When Tamlin takes Feyre to see the pool of starlight, she describes the setting filling her with “both longing and mirth…it just seemed…right.”

10. Despite only having heard and not seen the Attor, Feyre manages to paint its exact image “a tall, skeletally thin gray creature with bat ears and giant, membranous wings.” How would she have been able to do this? Possibly an image from someone else’s mind?

11. During Calanmai, Feyre disregards Tamlin’s order to stay in her room as “there was a string - a string tied to my gut that pulled me towards those hills, commanding me to go, to hear the faerie drums…” “but a wild wicked voice weaving in between the drumbeats whispered otherwise. Go, that voice said, tugging at me. Go see.”

12. The first thing Rhysand ever says to Feyre is “There you are, I’ve been looking for you” before telling the three lesser faeries, “Thank you for finding her for me.”

13. During Feysand’s first encounter, Feyre thinks to herself Rhysand’s words “were tinged with an arrogance that only an immortal could achieve” to which he “laughed under his breath” having heard the insult.

14. When Feyre first drinks faerie wine, she describes it as “like a million fireworks exploring inside of me, filling my veins with starlight.”

15. Still intoxicated she states she wants to swim in the night sky, “to bathe in its colours and feel the stars twinkling between my fingers.”

16. Tamlin and Feyre had their first kiss during the shortest night of the year.

17. Rhysand states “only my prisoners and my enemies call me (Rhysand).” It’s then interesting that Feyre refers to him as ‘Rhys’ in her POV in moments when she can see beneath his villain mask. (And EXTRA interesting when she refers to him as such during their first kiss.)

18. When Rhysand senses Tamlin and Lucien have hidden Feyre “a flicker of excitement - perhaps disbelief - flashed across his features.”

19. Rhysand was the only person Under the Mountain that bet on Feyre slaying the worm.

20. Feyre’s bargain tattoo is similar to the Illyrian tattoos that are given for luck and glory.

21. When Rhysand dressed Feyre under the mountain he crowned her with a “small golden diadem imbedded with lapis lazuli” - a stone that inspires confidence and is worn by royalty.

22. When Rhysand informs Amarantha of his bargain with Feyre, it’s also an act of defiance as he mentions the bargain is “for the rest of her life”, hinting he believes she will survive the remaining tasks.

23. Before the second trial, Rhysand dresses Feyre in a ‘blood orange’ gown - a colour symbolising good fortune.

24. During their first mind convo, Rhysand says “Good girl.” (Not a fact, just hot tbh.)

25. When Rhysand sends the music to her cell, she unknowingly imagines Velaris and “a palace in the sky of alabaster and moonstone, where all that was lovely dwelled in peace…everything I wanted was there - the one I loved was there-“

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#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #feyre archeron #feyreandrhysand #rhysand and feyre #feysand #sjm spoilers

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