@acotarnet survives quarantine: get to know the friends » favorite ships — feysand

I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world.

SJMweek ☆ Day 7: Favourite Quote — I’ve been looking for you

     “I wonder if some part of me knew what was waiting for me. That I would never be a gentle grower of things, or someone who burned like fire—but that I would be quiet and enduring and as faceted as the night. That I would have beauty, for those who knew where to look, and if people didn’t bother to look, but to only fear it … Then I didn’t particularly care for them, anyway. I wonder if, even in my despair and hopelessness, I was never truly alone. I wonder if I was looking for this place—l o o k i n g  f o r  y o u  a l l.”
[ … ]
     “Rest,” I said, and moved to retrieve the blanket from my pack. It’d have to do. He gripped my wrist before I could rise. His eyelids lowered. Consciousness ripped from him - too fast. Much too fast and too heavy.
     “I  w a s  l o o k i n g  f o r  y o u  t o o,” Rhys murmured.
     And passed out.

SJMweek ☆ Day 6: Favourite Ship — Feysand

“So I’m your huntress and thief?”
     His hands slid down to cup the backs of my knees as he said with a roguish grin, “You are my s a l v a t i o n, Feyre.”

SJMweek ☆ Day 4: A court of …

     “To the people who look at the stars and wish, Rhys.“
     Rhys clinked his glass against mine. “To the stars who listen—and the dreams that are answered.”

Thunder cracked behind me, as if two boulders had been hurled against each other.
     People screamed, falling back, a few vanishing outright as darkness erupted.
     I whirled, and through the night drifting away like smoke on a wind, I found Rhysand straightening the lapels of his black jacket.
     “Hello, Feyre darling,” he purred.

@acotarnet​ event 12: international women’s history month ⟶ morrigan

A queen who owned her body, her life, her destiny, and never apologized for it.

@acotarnet event 10: rhysand and feyre as hades and persephone

“You think I don’t know how stories get written—how this story will be written?“
Rhys put his hands on his chest, his face more open, more anguished than I’d seen it. "I am the dark lord, who stole away the bride of spring. I am a demon, and a nightmare, and I will meet a bad end. He is the golden prince—the hero who will get to keep you as his reward for not dying of stupidity and arrogance.”

acotarnet:

25 Days of ACoTaR → Day 4: Cassian

— and all these civilized trappings were little more than an inconvenience.

make me choose: @kevlnday​ asked ⟶ cardan or rhysand
“He thinks he’ll be remembered as the villain in the story” 
She snorted. 
“But I forgot to tell him,” I said too quietly, opening the door, “that the villain is usually the person who locks up the maiden and throws away the key.” 
“Oh?” 
I shrugged, “He was the one who let me out.”

I wasn’t entirely sure I was breathing.
“Interesting,” the Suriel said.
     Mate.
     Mate.
     Mate.
Rhysand was my mate.
Not lover, not husband, but more than that. A bond so deep, so permanent that it was honored over all others. Rare, cherised.