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#feysand kids
highlady-fireheart · 2 days ago
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Feyre when she starts to find herself again and build a life for herself in the Night Court (ACOMAF)
It's a new day, in a new land, and it's waiting for me.
Here I am.
Feyre getting the hell out of Spring and making the journey back to Rhys and the Night Court (ACOWAR)
I know the road is long, but where you are is home.
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flowerflamestars · 13 days ago
Feel like Nyx would be the nephew that sneaks away to his aunt's house in the middle of the night and stay there for like a week straight because they are his favourites, and neither Eris or Nesta questions it when he shows up out of nowhere because they do love him but Feysand are so terrified of what they might say to their precious child but really, Nesta is the only one who treats Nyx like he didn't fall out of the sky and is entitled to have anything he wants.
Oh god yes
Baby Night Night has never had a god damned chance- that kid is equal, damaging parts unbelievably sheltered/spoiled and just like....trapped in a long shadow of expectation.
And his Autumn relatives don't cosset him!
Like, the first time he runs away he's like...hmmm...sixteen? Angry. And Neris are fine with anger. But that teen angst bullshit? No. They put the kid to work.
And while work is just helping Auntie Elain bake her wife a birthday cake, she makes him do the dishes. Without using his powers. Eris takes him along to meetings and makes him sit through all the boring bullshit that entails.
But- afterward, Eris explains what happened. Like they're equals. He asks what baby Night Night thinks. Auntie Em likes her cake so much she hugs him, like he's a little kid. It's nice.
It's actually...making him feel better.
And sure, Auntie Nesta is grouchy and terrifying. But she's no where near as bad as Night Night's parents make her out to be. Sure, she's using blood magic, but it's alchemy. Yes, she's really, really busy, just like Uncle Eris, probably too busy for kids like his mom says, so much so Night Night has to assume they're making time for him- which makes him feel...warm? kind of ashamed?- but she doesn't leave him alone.
She's there, and it's pretty funny to see how happy it makes Uncle Eris to listen to her complain about boring government policy.
When Night Court lackeys eventually show up thinking Nyx has been kidnapped- well, lil baby boy comes to understand a little bit why Eris and all the Aunts like how mean Auntie Nesta can be. She sends home the royal guard in tears- and then tells Nyx he can stay as long as he wants, but he has to tell his parents he's safe.
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highfaelucien · 18 days ago
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Babysitting the Heir - An Inner Circle Fic
Repost from 2016 (god I’m old) that I redrafted bc it’s cute and wholesome af. And after all the salt and angst I have provided, I felt it was only fair to bring some fluff to the table.
Title: Babysitting the Heir
Summary: Azriel and Mor babysit Feyre and Rhys’ young son, Nyx, so the two of them can have a little time to themselves. He ends up taking quite a strong liking to Az... Fluff, pure fluff.  
Teaser:  ‘The moment he slips into Azriel’s arms again he pillows his head calmly against his chest and settles completely, gazing up at him with big, innocent eyes.
Mor grins.’
Notes: No content warnings to speak of. Originally posted in 2016. Rewritten to update with (some) current canon, but also with some of my own additions, like happily queerplatonic Moriel. Because I can. And because this shit is adorable.
AO3: Link
“Be good for Aunt Mor, okay?” Feyre says, dipping forwards to kiss her son's forehead. “Does he understand the concept of ‘good’ yet?” Mor chirps conversationally. 
Tilting her body she shifts in place and adjusts Nyx in her arms to allow Rhys to kiss him goodbye as well. “Why don’t you debate that with him this evening over some fine wine, Mor?” Rhys drawls. 
The soft smile on his lips is very patently for his son; the words dripping with sarcasm very obviously for his cousin. Irritated by the baby balanced in her arms and her resulting lack of free hands with which to offer her cousin some obscene gesture, she makes do with snapping at him. “Why don’t you take a long walk off a very short balcony. Without wings. You sardonic pri-“ “We,” Feyre interrupts pointedly as Rhys starts smirking in a way that would have forced Mor to hand Nyx back to his mother so she could do something about it, “Are leaving,” she announces. 
Grabbing her still obnoxiously smiling mate by his upper arm she begins to firmly drag him away from Mor before serious damage is done to his pretty face. 
“Now,” Feyre adds in a slightly threatening growl as Rhys looks more than ready to continue bickering. “Thank you for this, Mor!” Feyre calls over her shoulder as she frog-marches Rhys to the door at the other end of the corridor. 
“And you Az,” she adds with a smile and a wave, both hello and goodbye, tossed in the shadowsinger’s direction as he drifts serenely down the stairs to see what all the fuss is about in the hall. Mor lifts Nyx’s little hand with her first two fingers and has him wave goodbye to her parents while Az presses quiet kiss to her temple. His eyes fix on the baby in her arms with an air that suggests he’s seriously considering the possibility he might suddenly explode at any moment. “I’m going to the roof to train for a little while,” he murmurs quietly into her hair, his voice smooth and cool as ever. She nods, softly kissing the top of Nyx’s head, “We’ll be fine,” she says, shooing her partner upstairs, suppressing her eye roll with difficulty as she does so. “I’ll give you a shout if we need anything.”
Az nods his agreement then retreats silently back the way he had come leaving Mor to take Nyx into the living room alone. It’s not surprising. He does this every time they babysit for anyone. She knows that he’s more uncomfortable than the rest of them around any of the children, even if he secretly dotes on them, and she’s never pushed him into keeping her company unless she’s overwhelmed on her own. Which doesn’t happen often; usually only when Elain and Lucien’s twins are staying with them. Two years older than Nyx and already holy terrors in their own right. She chuckles to herself at the thought. She and Nyx have a nice afternoon that involves nothing more strenuous for Mor than setting him on her knee, holding his hands and bouncing him up and down until he giggles. 
“Your parents are going to have so much fun when you start flying,” she teases as his small wings furl and unfurl excitedly. After an hour or so a servant interrupts politely to ask Mor if she could deal with something that’s arisen from some Court of Nightmares emissaries staying with them.
Nodding, Mor apologises to Nyx before gently popping him into the cot in front of the large floor to ceiling windows. Then she turns and hollers up the stairs for Azriel. He appears in moments and she stands on her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek and give him her most winning smile, which immediately makes him look nervous. As it should.  
“Would you keep an eye on Nyx for me?” she asks him, nuzzling affectionately against his taut chest. “I have to deal with the idiots from the Court of Nightmares. It shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes or so.” Azriel frowns at this. 
Mor sighs. “He’s a baby not a bogge, Az,” she reminds him, thinking that he’d probably rather tackle the latter on his own. She keeps that to herself however, looking beseechingly up at him. “Are you sure?” he deadpans, looking down at her, hazel eyes glittering. Mor beams and presses a hasty kiss to his lips that catches more cheek than mouth in her hurry as she darts for the door. “I won’t be long, thanks!” she’s calling over her shoulder at him, without him ever having quite agreed to this plan of hers. Then she winnows from the house and Az sighs; though he’s unable to entirely banish the small, affectionate smile that tugs at the corner of his lips in response to her. Padding into the room he gathers up the toys strewn around the room from earlier, wondering both how they ended up with so many and also how Mor had managed to scatter them so widely around the room in such a short space of time. He shakes his head slightly as he fishes one out from underneath the breakfast table, eyes twinkling at the whirlwind that is his Morrigan as he does so. He’s just setting everything back into the box in the corner when Nyx starts crying. Wincing at the sound he pads tentatively towards his cot, his wails increasing in volume with every moment. 
Crouching down he gently rubs his tummy with his hand to soothe him. Trying not to cringe at the sight of the twisted, burned flesh touching the young child. Gentle hushing has no effect on him whatsoever and when his cries could more accurately be described as howling Azriel finally decides there’s nothing else for it. 
Standing he tentatively reaches down into the crib and scoops him up into his arms. He’s held him before, naturally – neither Mor nor Feyre gave him any choice in the matter when he was born and continued to coax him into it afterwards – but it still feels...wrong somehow. His rough, scarred hands, hard with the calluses from his training are stained with more blood than he cares to remember. They were shaped to hold blades and handle the violent killing power that burns in his blue siphons, not children. He’s never been entirely comfortable with something so small and precious and fragile entrusted to his battered arms. Morrigan was one thing, but the little one... Slowly, he starts bouncing Nyx in his arms, the way Mor does to get him to quiet down. This plus the fact that he’s holding the child close to him seems to help. 
He still sniffles faintly but he’s stopped screaming as though he’s trying to bring the place down at least. After a few minutes of gentle rocking and soothing murmuring he settles against his broad chest. “You were just being dramatic because you wanted some attention, weren’t you, little one?” Azriel muses quietly to him. 
Mor, he’s noted, seems to talk away to him. all the time. Regardless of whether he understands, it's something he appears to like, so Azriel continues.
“That’s your father’s fault,” he informs him placidly.  A broad smile spreads across his face as though he’s understood what he’s said and Az can’t help his own smile at the sight of it.
Nyx bats happily at his cheek, searching and grabbing at every bit of him he can reach from his arms. 
Then the little fingers start to grab at his wings and he tenses, blinking down at him. “No, no,” he says in alarm as one small hand grips tightly onto the hooked, pointed talon at the crest of his wing and the other just grabs at whatever other part of it he can reach. “That’s not- No! Nyx, please-“ he tries hopelessly.
Prising his surprisingly strong grip off of him gently while still keeping one arm locked tightly around him proves to be near impossible. 
He wonders vaguely if all children his age have such stubborn, iron grips or if this is a trait he can thank his mother for. 
“Nyx-“ he pleads hopelessly as his small, nails dig into a sensitive spot of the membrane of his wing. A low, throaty chuckle interrupts his helpless floundering and he looks up to see Mor leaning artfully against one of the broad wooden pillars in the room. He’s rarely seen her looking so amused. “He’s one, Az,” she smirks at him, seeming to find his current predicament immensely amusing. “You can’t reason with him.” “Would you please-“ He gestures mutely for her to take Nyx back and somehow have him release his hold on him. Still laughing, her warm eyes dancing with merriment, Mor steps forwards at last and obliges him.
She scoops Nyx smoothly into her arms, detaching him from Azriel’s wing with ease. 
Azriel shakes out his wings with relief and tucks them very firmly against his back. More so than he usually would. Something that's not missed by Mor, who gives him a wicked grin that has him groaning. 
"Poor baby," she croons, voice playful and teasing. 
Az gives her a half-hearted scowl in answer, starting to tidy the room again.
Mor's voice returns to normal as she kisses Nyx’s head and chuckles, “Wait ‘til we tell Uncle Cassian that all he has to do to bring the fearsome shadowsinger to his knees is not let go of his wing.”
Az shoots her a playful growl at the remark and Mor laughs again. Nyx, who had taken fairly well to being handed from one to the other of them like a solstice gift, had merely reached behind Mor to find something else to occupy himself.
While being obviously displeased by her lack of wings, he soon seems to decide that grabbing fistfuls of Mor’s beautiful golden hair will do just as well. 
As Mor begins to carry him away from Azriel, however, he starts fussing again, his large, striking violet eyes fixed firmly on the retreating form of Az. Arching an eyebrow Mor wanders experimentally back to him and Nyx immediately reaches out for Az again, little fists grabbing the air insistently. 
He blinks in surprise as he continues to squirm and fuss in Mor’s arms until she hands him over and coaxes him to take him again.
The moment she slips into Azriel’s arms again he pillows his head calmly against his chest and settles completely, gazing up at him with big, innocent eyes. Mor grins.  “No,” he protests feebly, looking from one to the other of them and knowing he’s beaten long before he gets out, “No, Mor, I don’t want-“ She pats his shoulder consolingly, ruining the effect by laughing through it. “You can’t say no to your future High Lord, Az,” she trills, grinning broadly at him as Az blinks down at the baby nestled peacefully in his arms. “Mor, I,” he stumbles, looking down at her again, fear gripping him as he says, “What if I drop him? What if I hurt him?” He’s being as gentle and as careful with him as he can but... “You won’t,” Mor says, the laughter instantly easing from her voice as it drops, becoming even and soothing. “Come on,” she says, tenderly hooking her fingers between his forearm and Nyx’s soft, warm body and leading him over towards the comfortable couches by the fire. Patiently, Mor shows him different ways of holding Nyx to help him become more comfortable with the babe and stop him worrying about dropping or hurting him somehow. 
To his credit, the little one is incredibly patient with being pushed and pulled into various different positions and doesn’t seem to mind as long as Azriel is doing most of the holding.
He snorts when Mor mentions he’s lucky he decided to discover this new side to himself with the very placid Nyx rather than the twins. Neither would have been nearly as accommodating of all this poking and prodding. When Nyx finally does seem to tire of training Azriel in how to deal with him and starts to become fussy again, Mor heads to the kitchen and brings back a bottle for him to feed him. 
She watches the two of them fondly as Nyx sucks contentedly at the warm milk, his big violet eyes blinking serenely up at them both. 
Az smiles down at her the whole while, his scarred hands cradling him gently. When he looks up and catches the faint gleam in Mor’s eye he carefully slides an arm around her shoulders and gathers her in against him. With a faint, contented hum he presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. Nyx successfully keeps Az in thrall all night. Each time he tries to leave him for more than a few minutes he makes his displeasure about his departure known to most of Velaris. “
You’re a devious little one,” he murmurs softly to him, after the third or fourth instance of this, tickling his tummy as Mor did, and watching him giggle happily in his lap. “That’s Rhys’s fault too.” Mor smirks. “What else was Rhys’s fault?” she enquires playfully, arching a golden eyebrow and plastering a wicked grin across her lips. Azriel smiles faintly. 
“His flare for drama and need for constant attention,” he responds simply. Mor tips back her head and howls with laughter at that, so loudly that Nyx blinks at her and nuzzles in against his chest, alarmed by this outburst. Azriel gives her a gentle nudge to coax her to stop for the babe’s sake and she desists. “Well he’s clearly fond of you.” Mor observes, looking down at the small, placid bundle in his arms. “That level of sense can only come from his mother.” Az chuckles at that and the shadows that flit around him gather around his chest at the sound. “Do that again,” Mor says suddenly, her head tilted slightly to the side as she peers down at Nyx. “What?” Az asks, confused, not aware that he’d been doing anything more than absently rocking Nyx back and forth in his arms, something that seemed to soothe him “With the shadows,” Mor says and he tightens at the mention but she shakes her head, “Make them gather around your chest again,” she instructs and he obliges her uncertainly. At once, one of Nyx’s little hands shoots out, trying to grab them. Blinking in pleasant surprise, Az coaxes the shadows a little closer. He had deliberately kept them light, something that was never hard with Mor around, and away from Nyx in case he scared him. But he seems oddly transfixed by them. Again he reaches out, trying to grab at them, his little fists closing over air. Azriel starts to make them dart around him in little bursts and he keeps swiping for them, like a cat chasing a mouse, until he’s giggling wildly and Mor is laughing beside him at the sight. 
Cautiously, Azriel reaches down and brushes Nyx’s soft pale skin with his shadows. His eyes go wide and his whole body stills. He repeats the gesture and he begins to laugh again as he tickles her with them.
Mor beams with delight, the unreserved joy on her face more intoxicating to him than a bottle of faerie wine at the Solstice. As the evening begins to draw to a close, both Mor and Nyx fall asleep on top of Azriel. Nyx sprawls flat against his chest. Meanwhile Mor presses in against his side, her head tucked into the crook of his neck, her legs curled up under her as she presses in against him. 
Azriel smiles quietly at the sight of both of them, one hand underneath Nyx to keep him supported, the other trailing absently through Morrigan’s golden curls, absently stroking them and soothing her in her sleep. That’s the position that Feyre and Rhys find them in when they knock on the door and Azriel calls for them to come in several hours later. 
Feyre smiles at the sight of them and hurries over to Azriel. She leans down and trails her fingers through Nyx’s soft, downy black hair. Mor stirs at the arrival of Feyre and Rhys and stretches away from Azriel like a cat, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and smiling dozily around at the scene. Azriel gets carefully to his feet and very gently hands Nyx to Rhys who soothes him almost instantly with a few quiet words when he wakes in response to all of the movement around him. 
“That’s typical of Aunt Morrigan, isn’t it?” Rhys murmurs to Nyx, grinning at Mor over his son’s head. “Falling asleep and leaving poor Uncle Az to do all the work and cover for her.” Mor looses a rough growl at him and Az hastily snakes a hand around her waist, tugging her gently to his side and pressing a calming kiss to the top of her head while she glowers good naturedly at her smirking cousin.
“Well if that’s how you feel, cousin,” she says loftily, all anger suddenly smoothed away by a thought, which should only ever be read as concerning, “You won’t need to ask me to babysit when you want a date night again. You can just ask Az to do it all by himself, since he’s done ‘all the work’.” 
Az felt himself pale at that, in spite of himself. Something his brother must note, because he quickly cuffs Mor on the back and says, “I don’t know what I’d ever do without you, cousin.”
“That’s what I thought,” Mor mutters under her breath, and Az gives her another small squeeze and a smile. “Was everything all right?” Feyre asks, looking between them, fondly stroking Nyx’s cheek as she moves to stand beside Rhys. “Everything was fine,” Azriel says smoothy, giving her a soft smile that instantly seems to reassure her. “Thank you again for having him,” she says, leaning forwards and embracing Mor then kissing Az’s cheek. They both assure them it was no problem and they’d be happy to do it again. Once Feyre and Rhys have left the two of them tidy up then flop down onto the couch. Mor immediately settles herself in Azriel’s lap, sprawling across him as though he’s a cushion. Az waits patiently for her to make herself comfortable and then settle down against him. Her smaller, more delicate form melts easily against his as she drapes her arms lazily around his chest. “So,” she says, a clear smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, “You’ll be happy to help me the next time we babysit for Feyre and Rhys?” He smiles faintly “Feyre and Rhys?” He says, arching an eyebrow and lightly tapping her nose, “Yes,” he agrees, “Not Elain and Lucien.” He clarifies with a shudder at the thought of facing the twins alone. Mor laughs again and burrows affectionately in against him.  “It’s okay,” she promises him, arching up to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, “We’ll tackle the two of them together.” 
Azriel just wraps his arms around her, lightly kissing the top of her head and humming contentedly, closing his eyes. He’s asleep with his arms around her in minutes.
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naturallystupidforyou · a month ago
You just mentiones that in an au azriel has nine kids...i honestly expect this nine kids from canon!feysand. They'd definitely have 9 kids
you know what,,, you're right
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naturallystupidforyou · a month ago
Marcella as azriel daughter? What if he had twin daughters?
i've decided that instead of marcella, it's natasha and if there's twins, it's natasha and lydia
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azrielsbaby · a month ago
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Y'all already know Rhys will buy Feyre presents every mother's day and Feyre gets him presents for father's day.
And soon it'll become a competition between the parent and the kids on who gets the best present for the respective parent on the respective day.
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ACOSF realization
y'all realize the Kingdom of Ash scene where Aelin falls through the worlds and sees a 'heavily pregnant' fae whose mate throws his night-like power towards her to slow her fall happened during the timeline of this book, right?!?
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myfriendscallmeraba · 2 months ago
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When nyx is little and nessian has a daughter no one can take him away from her. He deems it his duty to always be by her side. Everytime they have to leave the house of wind Feyre and Rhys need to drag him away. But for a 10 year old Nyx is surprisingly resilient. He has always liked playing with the shadows and darkness but now he decides to use them. So Nyx uses them to disappear and every time Rhys starts worrying while Feyre just laughs. Nyx is always found next to the baby.
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tailorgenyasafin · 2 months ago
I'm so annoyed about eris's name in acotar. I can understand the usage of a female goddess's name for a guy (nothing really wrong with that especially in fantasy contexts) but the thing is, I'm currently writing a story and my (female) protagonist's name is eris. It's supposed to be ironic because the goddess is one of hatred and strife but my protagonist is like the most sunshiney person ever. And I hate that a character and story I've worked on for 3 years is going to be associated with 1/2
Such a horrendous series as acotar. I know this is random and all but yeah. Just wanted to rant. >:(
sdfdgkjh oh no, you’re good. That sounds like a great idea and it’s unfortunate that she ruined the name for you.
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rhysandswingspan · 2 months ago
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This is Feyre and Rhysand, Change my Mind
*Rhysand would be the one on the radio though 
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myfriendscallmeraba · 2 months ago
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Witches in Acotar
*this is me theorising! nothing is canon*
I was thinking about Feysand’s kids and what theirs powers could be cause both Rhys and especially Feyre have pretty unique powers. So while I think Nyx will only have night powers cause he’s possibly the next high lord of night, maybe smth different would happen for any next children.
So I questioned myself. What would happen if all of Feyre’s powers and Rhysand’s merged? What would that create?
Thinking of this from a science POV and trying to explain Feyre’s power. Feyre got a drop from each high lord and thus she has hold of all their powers. However, (I think) she can use her power like that because they were given to her separately. The powers don’t exist together. Each drop is different and Feyre draws from each for her power.(God this doesn’t make sense does it? I’m sorry). Anyways, what happens if all the drops merge? What happens if Rhysand’s power and Feyre’s power merge into one big drop?
Chaos. Raw power.
It would be energy like the Big Bang possibly. Everything merging together. Everything and nothing. The energy at the creation of the world. And what do we know was there at the creation of the world? The cauldron.
So my theory is that the cauldron contains chaos energy/magic, which also explains the power Nesta had.
Nesta was considered a death god. Her power was believed to be death but we also saw her power of creation. The cauldron also made the sisters. It gave life and created them. Nesta stole the cauldrons self. She stole its core so basically its rawest energy. So we could assume that the cauldron also contained that death energy everyone saw in Nesta. So creation and destruction/death combined create chaos.
Now the Illyrians called Nesta a witch. I do not think that is a coincidence. Honestly, I’m gonna be very mad if we don’t see actual witches in the books but that not my point(even if it doesn’t match this theory).
This is the part where I use my Marvel/WandaVision knowledge. In the MCU we have different kinds of witches. Each one draws powers from different sources. I think we can tie this in with the Acotar world. Nesta and the potential feysand baby I previously talked about might have Wanda’s magic. Chaos magic. Tho now that Nesta gave her power back(which I believe was necessary for the balance of the world) I think she still has that kind of power but maybe not the whole force of it. And the feysand baby would probably have the essence of it but not the earth shattering force Wanda has(again for balance and I don’t want it to be overpowered tbh).
In conclusion, what if acotar witches are similar to mcu witches?
The Illyrians have definitely seen them or heard of them before because they are very obviously terrified of them. Which would make sense if acotar witches have the power and skills of mcu witches. But acotar witches, the normal ones at least, not ones like nesta or ppl made by the cauldron, could be just fae that tap into the cauldrons magic. Fae that draw power from the earth, which is probably imbued by the cauldrons energy and you need a higher skill to detect it and use it. That’s probably why none of our mains realise they have power under their feet(Tho amren probably knows. She always knows more then she lets on.) It could also be smth that the ancient fae knew but the information got lost with time. So anyone that still knows how to use that is considered dangerous etc.
I would love anyone’s input in this or any opinions😚
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So yeaaah this was my crackhead theory😌 Just imagine a feysand kid or nesta or another fae with Wanda’s or Agatha’s magic. LIKE THAT WOULD BE SO COOL. Feysand kid would def have a purple/black colour and Nesta would rock Wanda’s red which would also match Cassian’s siphons😏 now this last part is not part of the theory cause no way but it would look cool😂😂😂 Oh oh and Elain too. She could have green or pink magic.
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jsprsfhy · 3 months ago
Do you think sarah is done with killing/almost killing her fav characters and then 2 pages later saving them? Cuz no one is falling for that “shock value/plot twist” 🤧
lol nope. one thing ms janet seems to love is copping out.
look, i dont like watching my faves die, but it does add more depth to the story, the plot, the characters and the realism of the world in general. sjm's way of bringing characters to the brink of death, and then saving them with a "plot twist" just seems like a cop out (unless its the woman of color, then its perfectly alright to kill her for a white person's pain amirite <3 (/s)). you're right, its not shocking anymore, just repetitive and boring and mayhaps one of the few hundred things sjm should rethink
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jsprsfhy · 4 months ago
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also did anyone of us clowns order the f*ysand edition??? because like i dont wanna know what happens there....... but i gotta 😭😭😭
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flowerflamestars · 5 months ago
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Tidal sneak peek
“He must hate me,” Feyre sobbed, bent over at the middle like she’d been punched.   Carefully, slowly, Cassian pulled her back upright and patted her shoulder. The kid needed a big sibling- Cassian could do that, until Nesta came back to take over.   Soon. Hopefully.   “Rhys doesn’t hate you,” Cassian told her.   Rhys hated himself, and probably the entire world right now- but Cassian could only handle one teen crisis at a time. Rhysand liked to be alone to thoroughly stew in his emotions first, anyway.   “But- but- I’ll have to see him again and he will.”   Blind- Cassian had time to think, fuck, is her face swelling?- Feyre twisted to face plant into Cassian’s chest.   The part of Cassian that had eight thousand little cousins took over in one fell swoop. “Hey, hey, honey no. Worry about you right now, okay? It’s okay, Feyre.”   “I’ll never see him again,” Came the next sob, muffled and somehow, even worse. “He- he just introduced me to Az- and I-“   Cassian made the obvious, immediate mistake. “Do you…want to see him again?” “Yes!” It was a shriek.   A blink, too easy honesty, that he hoped she wouldn’t repeat. “You know your sister and I…we aren’t…ranger teams stay”-   Another howl of a cry interrupted what Cassian was trying not to say but still make clear: Feyre was always going to be in his life, and by extent, Rhysand’s, when he was done throwing teen angst fits and pretending he didn’t have brothers. She’d always have Cassian in her corner,  Azriel with him.  Always- because Cassian wasn’t going to leave Nesta Archeron’s side.   In the Drift, in the war, beneath the tide, for a single god damned day if she’d stop fighting him about it.  
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flowerflamestars · 5 months ago
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Announcing Sunlight: a Morrigan-centric Daylight AU
There were letters to burn.   Words and words and words, more than a little poison besides, rendered harmless in ash. The only harmless part now- legacy too long, each stroke of black and flourishing signature that might as well have been blood.   Heirloom jewels long lost, they could stay that way.   Morrigan looked at the torn apart ruin of her private Velaris apartment, the mess she’d made, and went hunting for more. She hadn’t saved all five hundred years of correspondence, but there was always something- the earrings she’d been wearing, when they’d thrown her to Autumn.   Sanguine, the masterpiece of a dress made and worn for the marriage of her High Lord and Lady.   Her own copies of work she was proud of: treaties now unheld, documents of before the Wall. The missive that had sent her across the sea and away, deep into mortal territory, thrust right into war and collision with her own unready heart.   Into the fire it went.   She’d have melted down her own sword- her first sword, ringing golden, forged in blood as every Morrigan’s- if she’d known where exactly it had fallen.   There was no question of how. It had been absorbed back into the Mountain, the hungry dark beneath the ground.   She’d have ripped out what made her- not a child, not a woman, a weapon, a pawn, had she ever been person? Certainly not the people that raised her- and fed it to that greedy blackness if she’d thought it would take it.   It would not.   It would live with her, die with her, be reborn like the curse and forced destiny it was in any trace of relation that walked the world.
And had Morrigan not, always, until it damned her, simply wanted to live?
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vxlarhys-insta · 6 months ago
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Rhys: Omg Feyre our son got bitten by a snake! What should I do??
Feyre: Elevate and compress.
Rhys, picking his son up and hugging him: I'm not entirely sure what this will accomplish but I like it.
If you repost on Instagram please TAG and CREDIT @vxlarhys
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moe8 · 7 months ago
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Every fan art I see of feysands son ALWAYS looks like Azriel 😳 feyre got some explaining to do.
“She want the whole crew shawty brave”
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ncstas · 7 months ago
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if feysand have a baby in acosf then it will... not sit well with me.
and not because i dont like rhys or because feysand spawning mini feysands even though fae are supposed to have low fertility rates would be real fucking convenient. but because neither of them are ready for it.
feminism is about choice. your body, your choice. your life, your choice. and feyre having kids now would be her choice.
but remind me again, how old is feyre? twenty, twenty one? if this was our world, then she'd be studying. she'd be in college. and no, there's nothing wrong with having kids in college. but having kids in college when you're dealing with two decades of trauma, excessive depression, suicidal thoughts (you can fight me on this) and a shit ton of ptsd is.
and rhysand's healing arc has literally just begun. five hundred years after his birth, the dude is starting to love himself. key word: starting.
having a kid now would literally make no sense and needlessly complicate their lives. they really should wait until they're both prepared for the responsibilities that come with a child because if after five centuries rhys can't take care if his own fucking kingdom, who's to say he'll be able to take care of another life that would be entirely dependant upon him??
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