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theladyofdeath · 4 years

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Alone in the Ashes {1}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click > Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Yay to new, angsty fanfics full of hot mess scenarios, sexy men, and foul language.

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that's really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you're so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.” ― Ned Vizzini, It's Kind of a Funny Story

It had been two weeks of Feyre living with Rhysand, and although he had been her best friend since high school, she learned more about him than she had ever cared to know since she moved in.

For one, the man was a complete mess. She blessed every woman that had ever had to step foot into a man’s bathroom, starting from the first night she walked in there to pee. After taking one look at the toilet seat up, the toothpaste all over the sink, the trash can full of Mother knew what, and the shower curtain hanging halfway off the hooks, Feyre felt the need to put on a hazmat suit and go buy five bottles of bleach.

Secondly, he didn’t have enough food to make a complete meal. Not even close. She knew he wasn’t a fan of cooking, but they couldn’t live off of ten boxes of cereal and half a gallon of milk.

And, lastly, he snored. Loudly. So loudly that, on multiple occasions, she was hurrying across the hall in the middle of the night and throwing him onto the floor with a string of curses.

It was early on a Saturday morning when he awoke and rounded the corner to find her standing over the stove top, scrambling eggs.

He smiled, brightly, his hair a mess. “Good morning, Feyre, darling.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “It would be if I got enough sleep last night. An obnoxious caveman inhabits the room across from mine.”

Rhysand’s smile widened. “Sounds like an asshole. You should get rid of him.”

Feyre laughed, taking a package of bacon out of the fridge. “Yes, but then I’d be lonely.”

Rhysand shook his head as he hopped onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. “Can’t have that.”

With a murmur of agreement, Feyre dropped slices of bacon onto the burning skillet. She always loved the sizzle food made when it hit a hot pan. It always reminded her of the little, family owned diner her mom used to take her and her sisters to when they were little, every Saturday morning.

“Good thing you moved in,” Rhysand went on, opening a carton of orange juice and putting it to his lips. “I don’t know how I didn’t starve before.”

Feyre turned to face him, scowling as she caught him drinking from the carton. “It’s scrambled eggs and bacon, Rhys, not a gourmet meal. You could easily-”

“No!”

“- cook them yourself!” Feyre finished with a laugh. “Lazy ass.”

“I am not lazy,” he said, hopping off the counter and flicking her nose. “I worked fifty hours this week at a restaurant. The last thing I want to do is go home and cook for myself. I prefer endless take out and best friends that do it for me.”

It was true. Rhysand worked at a popular local bar, one that had to fire two employees the week before for getting high in the kitchen. Until they found someone else, Rhysand was taking up extra shifts.

When Feyre didn’t say anything more, Rhysand stopped what he was doing and asked, with a quiet voice, “Bad morning?”

Feyre’s head swung his direction. “What? No. Well...I don’t know. Yet.”

He raised his brows.

“Tamlin texted me, wanted me to come get some stuff I left behind,” she mumbled.

Rhysand’s lips tightened. “I’ll come with you, then.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“No, I should come with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Feyre snapped. “I dealt with him for years, I think I can go pick up some shit.”

Rhysand’s shoulders tensed, and Feyre instantly felt guilty.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, turning off the stove top burners. “I’m obviously not looking forward to it, but really, I’ll be fine. And if he sees that you’re with me, he’ll start a fight, and I really just want to go get my stuff and get it done with.”

Rhysand nodded, although it was obvious by the way his eyes darkened that he didn’t like the idea, at all. “Just...call me if you need me.”

Feyre promised she would as he picked up a slice of bacon out of the skillet and took a massive bite.

Her eyebrows rose. “Is that not hot?”

“Fucking burning,” he mumbled, chewing. “I can’t feel my tongue.”

Feyre laughed, shaking her head. “Dumbass.”

He flicked her nose again, and she punched him in the arm.

They ate together at the little, rickety table, just as the front door opened and Azriel appeared. He was wearing black sweatpants and a t-shirt that said Velaris High Basketball on it. Given that it was nearly ten years old, Feyre was impressed it was still keeping itself together. The tattoos on his arms stood out, especially the new one on his left forearm, still ringed in red and covered in ointment.

“Good morning,” he mumbled.

Rhysand lifted an eyebrow as he chuckled, and Feyre was certain they were sharing the same thought.

“You look like shit,” Rhysand observed, as Azriel pulled a chair up to the table and laid his head against the tabletop. “Too much to drink last night?”

Azriel mumbled something unintelligible.

“There was a girl, wasn’t there,” Feyre crooned.

“Let’s just say that it took me a few minutes to remember her name when I woke up next to her this morning,” Azriel muttered.

Feyre gasped as Rhysand howled. “You’re better than that, Az. I am so, so disappointed.”

He looked up, glaring at his old friend. “Don’t worry, I feel shitty enough without punishment from you.”

Feyre stood, chuckling as she ruffled Azriel’s hair, and took her plate to the sink. “Good.”

“Ready for a run, then?” Rhysand asked, cheerily.

Azriel cursed before pushing himself up from the table. “Yeah. May as well. I have to get my shit together before one. I’m supposed to go into town for a job.”

“Ah, and what will you be building this time?” Feyre asked, intrigued, as she loaded their dishes into the dishwasher.

“Turning a garage into a bonus room,” he said. “So, I’ll be there a few weeks, it seems. But, the garage is small so….”

He let his words trail off and Feyre nodded, impressed. “Well, aren’t you handy.”

Azriel snorted. “It pays the bills.”

He was being modest, as he always was. Azriel was a brilliant craftsman and made the most beautiful, wooden furniture. However, he couldn’t seem to make a living that way, so he did small renovations and handyman work when he could get it.

Rhysand had finished tugging on his shoes just as Azriel took the Advil and Gatorade Feyre had handed him.

“I’ll see you this afternoon, then? After I get back from helping Cassian?” Rhysand asked, eyeing Feyre. “And you’ll call me if you need me?”

Feyre nodded.

“Alright,” he said, hesitantly, before following Azriel out the door.

Once she was alone, Feyre let out a long, deep breath. She should go now, get it over with. The thought had her hands shaking as she reached to turn off the kitchen sink.

~~~~~

“She didn’t want you going with?” Azriel asked, as they slowed to a jog along the Sidra.

Rhysand shook his head. “Thinks he’ll start a fight.”

It was common knowledge - Rhysand and Tamlin did not get along. They never had, even in high school. He also knew that Tamlin thought Rhysand was the reason Feyre left him, which was complete bullshit. She left him because he was a controlling, manipulative dick.

“She’ll be alright,” Azriel said.

Rhysand didn’t reply. He knew she could stand up for herself, but he saw way too much in the years that Feyre was with Tamlin. He knew the things Tamlin used to say to her, knew the things he used to threaten her with.

“It seems to be going good,” Azriel continued, after catching the gleam in Rhysand’s eyes. “Roommates.”

“Yeah,” Rhysand agreed, as they stopped to stretch. “It is.”

Azriel was watching him in the quiet, articulate way he typically watched people when he was thinking something he didn’t want to say out loud.

Rhysand looked up at the early morning sky. “Yes?”

“Nothing,” Azriel mumbled, but when Rhysand looked back down, he was smiling.

“Fuck off,” Rhysand muttered, lying back against the grass. “I wouldn’t try anything.”

“Not yet,” Azriel added, jumping to his feet, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt. “Don’t say never.”

Rhysand didn’t comment. Yes, he loved her, but he would be an asshole to try anything. She just got out of a long, shitty relationship. Besides, she was his best friend, and trying anything more would be a betrayal of her trust.

“Alright, get up,” Azriel grumbled. “If I beat you back to your apartment, drinks are on you tonight.”

Rhysand looked up at Azriel from where he was in the grass. Azriel stared back. Before Rhysand jumped up, he kicked Azriel in the back of the knee, causing him to go down as Rhysand took off.

~~~~~

Elain looked in the mirror.

The dark circles beneath her eyes grew heavier, she would definitely need to layer her concealer. She had pulled on a pair of jeans she had bought the month before, but they had grown baggy, so she settled on leggings and a tank top.

Since she had to move back in with her father, after her breakup with Graysen, things were...interesting. Neither she nor her sisters had spoken too much to their dad in recent years, so having to call Isaac and ask if she could occupy her childhood bedroom was uncomfortable, to say the least. Asking him to take her to her appointments had been even stranger, but they say that she cannot take herself, in case she had a meltdown when she was there, she would always need a ride home.

However, she felt better the past few days than she had in some time. She thought it may have been the new medication Dr.Jones put her on, or the fact that spring had turned into summer. Everything was better in the summer, right?

Isaac was gone that morning, but Elain had to stay put. A contractor was coming, apparently, to give a quote on transforming their garage, which Isaac had been talking about doing for years but never went through with it.

Elain wondered why he had chosen now, perhaps as a way to bring a little change into Elain’s life. Either way, Elain was stuck until the contractor arrived, not that she had much else to do.

It was just after one when the doorbell rang, and Elain hurried from her spot on the couch, where she had been watching a ridiculous reality love competition, to the front door.

She opened it, and blinked. “Hello. Can I help you?”

He was tall, his lashes long and dark over his hazel eyes. He wore a hat, backwards, over his black hair. Elain could see the tattoos peeking out above the neckline of his t-shirt, as well as those that covered his arms.

“Is Isaac home?” he asked, voice low. “He called about your garage?”

“Ah, yeah,” Elain said, stepping aside, unable to break her eyes from his. She knew him from somewhere, although she couldn’t quite place it. “Come in, please.”

He nodded his thanks and entered.

They stood in the doorway, an awkward silence growing overwhelming.

Elain, at last, cleared her throat. “Um, my dad’s not here, but, I’ll pass along the message.” She turned on her heels and, a second later, his heavy footsteps trailed after her. They went through the kitchen and out the door, down into the garage.

It was a small garage, but an absolute mess. When Isaac had lived alone, this is where he seemed to have stored anything and everything.

Elain couldn’t tell what the man was thinking as he looked around. She knew her father had talked to him on the phone about what he wanted done, so she didn’t bother with providing the contractor with any details.

“I know you from somewhere,” Elain said, quietly, as he walked through the garage, avoiding the clutter.

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing her way, shortly. “From where?”

Elain bit her bottom lip. “Where did you go to high school?”

“Here,” he said, walking back to the bottom of the stairs and looking up at her. “Velaris, in the city.”

His brows suddenly shot up and Elain suddenly realized she was alone with a man twice her size. “You’re an Archeron. Feyre’s sister, yeah?”

Elain froze. “Yes.”

He nodded, jaw clenched. “I’m friends with your sister, saw her just this morning actually. We graduated the same year, you and I. Elain, right?”

Elain nodded, slowly. His name was on the tip of her tongue, but she could not remember it for the life of her.

“Azriel,” he said, looking away, and Elain blushed, feeling guilty. “You were valedictorian, if I remember correctly. Cheerleader.”

Elain suddenly remembered. “Oh, you played basketball.”

Azriel nodded. “I did, yeah.”

And you smoked a lot of stuff and drank under the bleachers, Elain thought, but figured it best to keep that to herself.

“Well, I suppose I’ll give you the estimate to give to your dad,” he said, scribbling a few things down on the notepad in his hand. “When he gets home, have him call me. I can come in Monday.”

Elain nodded, taking the sheet of paper from his hand before leading him back through the house. He didn’t say goodbye before he left. Elain watched him drive away.

She had to admit that he had aged nicely in the last decade.

The dark, dangerous boy that had a hazardous reputation at Velaris High.

Elain resumed her position on the couch, playing the next episode of her stupidly entertaining television show.

She pulled out her phone and opened instagram. The first image that popped up had her gasping for air.

Graysen was smiling, his arms around her.

She didn’t read the caption. She couldn’t. Before she could go any further, Elain dropped her phone, covered herself with a blanket, and laid on the couch.

The show faded into background noise as Elain stared at the coffee table.

~~~~~

Nesta was trying to sleep, but the noise going on outside of her apartment was unbearable.

With a miserable groan, Nesta rose from her bed and stomped through the halls before reaching the front door and throwing it open.

Two men stood there, carrying a kitchen table, one of whom Nesta recognized all too well.

She leaned against her door frame. “Rhysand, didn’t expect to see you standing out here...or, be anywhere on this side of town. How’s my sister?”

Rhysand, and his companion, set the table down on the concrete. “Nesta...Is this your apartment or the guy’s you fucked last night?”

“I’m assuming you two know each other,” Rhysand’s companion muttered.

Nesta shot him a glare. His dark, brown hair hung around his shoulders, tangled and a mess. He wore torn jeans, laced up leather boots with the laces undone, and a black t-shirt. His hazel eyes were taking Nesta in, from the top of her bedhead to her bare legs, hanging out beneath Tomas’ old, white t-shirt.

“Feyre’s sister,” Rhysand said, eyes still on Nesta.

His friend lifted an eyebrow. “No shit? The oldest, I assume.”

Nesta tensed, wondering what all her youngest sister said about her to her friends, then deciding she did not care.

“This is Cassian,” Rhysand went on, gripping his side of the table, once more. “Your new neighbor, it seems.”

“I would say it’s a pleasure, but you kinda look like you want to shove a knife into my chest, so,” Cassian began, then trailed off.

They lifted the table once more, bringing it inside the apartment. Nesta hadn’t even turned around before they came back out to grab something else.

“Well, keep it down,” Nesta snapped. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Rhysand ignored her, but Cassian seemed to not catch the hint. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Yes, and I was up until five this morning,” she scowled.

She heard the bedroom door open up behind her and looked over her shoulder, to find a disheveled Tomas walking toward her, cigarette between his lips.

“There a problem?” he asked, coming up behind her.

“Just meeting my new neighbor,” Nesta said. “I was just coming back inside.”

“Hmm,” he mumbled, then went back to the kitchen and out the sliding door to the balcony.

Cassian didn’t take his eyes from hers as she took a few steps back and slammed her door.

They didn’t bother to keep it down, at all.

~~~~~

Feyre was sitting on the couch, in silence, when Rhysand got home.

Careful not to startle her, he shut the door quietly behind him.

She looked over her shoulder, tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

She had been crying.

Rhysand didn’t say anything until he was sitting beside her, his feet kicked up. “You didn’t call me. I assume it went well?”

Her lip quivered, and his arm went around her shoulder as her face fell into his chest. “I hate him. I hate him, Rhys.”

“I know,” he whispered. He hated Tamlin, too. Hated the years he stole from her, hated the lies he fed her. “I know.”

She wiped her eyes across his shirt. “I’m making you wet.”

Rhysand opened his mouth, then it snapped shut, before laughter sputtered out of his mouth.

Feyre couldn’t help but laugh herself as she hit him in the chest, not moving from her position.

Rhysand’s arm tightened around her as she said, “Take your dirty mind somewhere else, I’m upset.”

“You’re right,” he said, smile fading. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

She shook her head.

She didn’t want to talk about it, not yet.

“Well, we all have the night off, so we’re going out,” he said, lifting her chin by his fingers to meet his eyes. “Come with.”

It was moments like this that made Rhysand have to focus on his breathing. In and out, don’t overthink, don’t think about how her face is only inches from yours, don’t think about how easy it would be to close the space, don’t think about the feeling of her lips on yours.

“Okay,” Feyre whispered.

Rhysand nodded, quietly clearing his throat. “Well, we should get ready, then.”

Feyre chuckled. “You may want to take a shower if you plan on impressing anyone tonight.”

Rhysand knew he wouldn’t be bringing anyone home, the only one he wanted to bring home was coming home with him, anyway.

But he nodded. He didn’t smell great. It was true. “Probably should.”

With a smile, Feyre pushed off his chest and started down the hall. She shut herself inside of her bedroom as Rhysand looked down, at the betrayal going on beneath his sweatpants.

He had to take a shower.

And it would be a cold one.

~~~~~

Nesta’s phone vibrated in her back pocket as she lit her cigarette.

She fished it out to find Elain’s name, and once she opened it, she read, Meet for lunch tomorrow?

Elain had a lot of time on her hands since she broke up with Graysen, and Nesta was trying her best to meet her from time to time and help her pass the time, but it was difficult. Then again, she should be spending time with at least one of her sisters.

Sure, tell me when and where, I’ll be there, Nesta replied, taking a long drag.

She was waiting for Tomas outside, waiting to go out on a Saturday night, but he was taking forever. She hated waiting. She hated waiting for Tomas, in particular. She swore he made her wait just because he could, just because he knew that it bothered her.

The door across from hers opened and Cassian stepped out.

He looked as if he’d just gotten out of the shower. His long hair was still wet, but tied at the back of his head. He still wore his boots, but his jeans were cleaner than the torn ones he had been wearing earlier, and his button down shirt was rolled up to his elbows, showing off the ink that decorated his tanned skin. He locked his front door behind him as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and noticed Nesta leaning up against the wall.

He didn’t have a chance to say a word before her own door opened and Tomas stepped out.

He saw Cassian looking at his girl, his eyes turning feral. Tomas met Cassian in height, but it was clear that Cassian was much broader, much stronger.

“Ready, Nesta?” Tomas asked, eyes still on Cassian.

Nesta didn’t answer. She took her cigarette between her lips as she watched Cassian’s gaze sweep over her, just as he had done earlier that afternoon. He did it slowly, no doubt to piss off Tomas more.

“May I help you?” Nesta asked, voice low.

Cassian chuckled, lips parted. The gesture defined his jawline, defined his cheekbones, and Nesta couldn’t help but notice. He had a handsome face, sculpted from stone. It was difficult not to imagine the body that lied beneath his clothes.

“Have a good night,” he said, at last, and shoved his hands into his pockets before walking away.

It took everything inside of Nesta not to watch him go.

“I don't like that guy,” Tomas muttered, closing the apartment door and resting his hand along Nesta’s lower back. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Cut the alpha male bullshit. I can take care of myself.”

With that, she walked away, Tomas close on her heels.

She needed to start drinking immediately if she was going to make it through another night, another morning, with him.

~~~~~

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#tacmc AITA #nessian #feysand #elriel #nesta #cassian #feyre #rhysand #elain #azriel #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #modern au #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #and so it begins

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thebowlofsoup · 4 years

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on the topic of illyrian and night court politics

let’s get messy.

i disagree with critique of the IC on the argument that it is ‘imperialistic’. yes it totally is, i’m not disputing the simple fact that prythian runs on an imperialist, monarchy system.

HOWEVER. it is what it is. and i think the critique that the system therefore makes the IC flawed is... not a very good argument.

personally i think they do they best they can with what their given. the best thing to do would obviously totally upend the system and create a democracy. but i think y’all are forgetting that this is a high fantasy series, with FAE. not humans. fae don’t like humans- it’s their whole thing. so naturally they would reject any sort of human idea of democracy, leaders voted in by the people (that’s not to say i personally dislike democracy lmao... please don’t take away my voting rights), and any other human idea that would impede their fae natures.

like i can’t stress this enough. they look human, but they aren’t. they’re immortal. any elected official would have the lifespan of a monarch anyway... but that’s not the point.

i’ve seen a lot of people dislike rhys because he treats illyrians like shit, and that he hasn’t stopped the abuse of women in his court. and part of me (the mean part) is like ‘did you read the book?’. the illyrians are essentially a court of their own, they don’t want to listen to rhys because he isn’t a full-blooded illyrian, and they’re certainly not going to listen to cassian who’s actively trying to get more women raining because of his birth status. they’re a warmongering clan of creatures (i stress, not PEOPLE per-se). fear tactics, though i hate them in the real world, are the only thing stopping the illyrian territories from full on disputing rhys and cassian’s authority. rhys’ power (but not his authority) is god-like sure, but he isn’t the type to just crash into people’s minds and force them to treat women like equals (as they should... obviously). so i feel like there’s a bit of hypocrisy in the criticism, either y’all don’t want him to be a blood-thirsty ruler or be one only when it suits. but then when he is... y’all don’t like that. ie. when he goes over mor’s head to make a deal with eris.

i think when looking into the series people forget that it’s a fantasy series, it doesn’t necessarily mirror real life (the racism allegories are obviously real). and that fae and humans have no contact, not really, not until feyre.

then again if you read my blog you know i don’t like rhys slander and i’m probably just as passionate as any other nesta-stan is for nesta but for rhys.

#rhysand #prythian #illyrians #cassian #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acofas #then again i'm re-reading and it sounds very 'blue-lives matter' which is ICK

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theherocomplex · 6 years

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I finished ACOMAF and I have Feelings that are of course about three years behind the times OOPS (shouty and spoiler-y bits under the cut):

I know that the point of this book was not to provide a completely accurate portrayal of PTSD, but the fact that SJM included it -- not only that, but demonstrated over and over that people experience trauma differently and heal differently -- is so, so important. And the fact that Feyre and Rhys (not to mention uh basically everyone?) aren’t magically healed but continue to suffer, heal, slip backwards, and start again is kind of wonderful.

Also hoo boy that is a hell of a switch from Tamlin to Rhys. I remember reading ACOTAR and being like “what the hell, Tamlin? Rhys is working his ass off to keep Feyre alive and functioning on top of playing whatever long game he has going, and you’re just...silent?”, but I still was tentatively On Board for Feyre/Tamlin up until Tamlin lost his temper. That’s when I went holy shit, you abusive asshole and started praying someone would get Feyre out.

MOR IS THE BEST. MOR FOR PRESIDENT. Can I kiss her?

Can I kiss all the ladies of the Night Court, basically?

Even Amren, though that seems rather risky to me.

WORTH IT.

Ugh when Rhys rescued her from the wedding I cried UGLY TEARS. Obviously I didn’t know what would later be revealed, but while he’s an ass, I appreciate that his first gesture is to make it clear that Feyre is his guest, and that his second is to help her learn how to read and protect herself. He’s actively giving her tools that will help her keep her agency.

...which, in light of whatever plans Ianthe has for her, is very important.

Hi I am totally creeped out by Ianthe and have been from the beginning.

Tamlin turning out to be an abusive asshole is neither justified nor excused, but I get it; I also appreciate that while Feyre’s POV is biased, nowhere in the narrative is Tamlin justified in imprisoning her. Every character who knows what happened is: a) wrong because they aid and abet him (Ianthe); b) a victim of Tamlin’s abuses as well (Lucien; maybe Alis to a lesser extent?); c) openly condemning Tamlin’s behavior.

I also like how Feyre and the narrative are sympathetic toward Tamlin for what he suffered, but they don’t use that to excuse his behavior. Feyre is allowed to love him in spite of what he did to her, and to mourn that love as she grows and heals.

There’s so much space dedicated to healthy relationships and dealing with your trauma in this book!

I am also ready to go rescue Lucien myself because WOW, Tamlin must have put him through the shit once Feyre was gone.

Ianthe and Tamlin are like...the worst kind of Lawful Evil.

Meanwhile there’s the Night Court, who are excellent examples of Good is not Nice and Chaotic Good, just merrily giving each other shit and planning a war and making horrible choices for all the right reasons (please, please, please let them be able to make things right with the Summer Court; Tarquin needs a friend).

Also I love how the Suriel clearly ships Feyre/Rhysand to tiny creepy pieces; please no one tell them about the ending of ACOMAF because Tamlin would be torn into little bloody pieces.

(Not that I am complaining about that.)

Okay but that scene in the Court of Nightmares where Rhys and Feyre basically like...almost bang in front of everyone? As part of their ~act~? Just leave me here. LEAVE ME HERE.

Especially because they both clearly love each other so much and have this wild attraction and it’s like...just bang, you guys. Save me from this tension, if not yourselves.

There are murky consent issues around how Rhys and Feyre allied themselves in ACOTAR, but I really appreciate how those are dealt with; Rhys was as open as he could be with her at the time, and clearly regrets having to manipulate Feyre the way he did. The fact that she forgives him and is given the chance to call him on all of that is the saving grace; their relationship wouldn’t have worked without that.

And it’s not as if Rhys is giving Feyre agency; he reminds her that she has it (he pays her for her work for him; he only calls in the bargain when she asks for help, and does it in such a way that won’t make Tamlin furious with her), and then respects it. The only time he doesn’t listen is when she’s actively losing her mind after being locked in the mansion, and he explains his reasoning for that (and since she was uh, losing her mind and also slowly wasting away, I’d say he’s somewhat justified; even then, he has Mor do it, so Feyre won’t be blamed).

BED SHARING FOR BODY WARMTH. AGAIN: LEAVE ME HERE.

Wing kink!!!!

The fact that Rhys dreamed of Feyre when she was over the wall, and knew who she was on Calanmai (I’ve been looking for you everywhere), and felt her hatred for him and her love for Tamlin, has killed a bee. Not to mention how he must have felt when Tamlin sent her over the wall, and oh no he must have known she was coming to the Mountain OH NO.

He was willing to give up his entire game against Amarantha when Feyre was dying, just to save her. Tamlin just...begged.

And then, when the Suriel finally revealed they were mates, he let Feyre be furious with him and hide from him.

ALSO let’s talk about how Feyre’s reaction to the Suriel’s reveal is to a) save Rhys from the immediate danger, and then b) to drop him in the mud in front of his friends, STILL BLEEDING, and say ��he’s all yours” and then just...peace out. #iconic

Feyre winnowing into the sky to wreck the Attor’s shop though

Hi I am Bee and want to tear the King of Hybern apart with my bare hands for killing the blonde queen and for hurting Nesta and Elain and for helping Tamlin and UGH, Tamlin, why are you so horrible?

Hahahaha SIKE you guys thought you broke the only bond well GUESS WHAT, ASSHOLES, they’re mates.

Tamlin, you’re dumb as hell because Feyre is going to tell Rhys EVERYTHING and they are going to have epic reunion sex and Lucien and Elain will be together and all you will have is your bandolier of knives and Ianthe and you only deserve one of those things (guess which).

End of story: I loved this book so much I immediately started to reread it because I know I missed stuff in all my screeching about it and I am not emotionally ready for ACOWAR.

#bee reads a thing #acomaf spoilers #acomaf #hi guys I'm here for these Night Court idiots now and forever

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onemustalwaysbecarefulofbooks · 6 years

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ACOFAS Ramblings

This is gonna be super long-winded. I have a LOT to say. Buckle in, folk

I have so many feelings on this novella I really don’t even know where to begin. I was really really excited for it and since actually reading it am now left kind of floundering in a weird range of emotions that cover every side of the spectrum. I’ll say it now: I had a lot of issues with it. This “review” (if it can even be called a review) is probably going to come across as really negative and for that I apologize. I don’t LIKE shitting all over books. I am 100% NOT on board with hating, over-analyzing, and criticizing an author/series just because it’s popular. But if there’s one thing I can say about Sarah J. Maas, it’s that she has the surefire knack for turning me from a level-headed logical adult reader to a rabid crazed homicidal lunatic. It happens every time and yet every time I’m still taken by surprise by it each time.

Those of you who follow me or have read any of my reviews before know that I have some pretty mixed feelings on the ACOTAR series. I was one of the (apparently very few) people who loved ACOTAR. I eagerly awaited the second book, only to be left completely shocked and reeling after seeing the direction the story had so abruptly taken. Most of this stems from the way Tamlin’s character was handled and treated demonized by the fandom. I have a whole long rant that goes in-depth about all that. I’ll leave it here. If you don’t feel like going into all of it, I’ll do my best to sum it up: The overwhelming beating-over-the-head message we had forced onto us every 5 seconds that certain characters were perfect and others were abusive neanderthals was obnoxious and unfair to me. I have SO many feelings on that, I’m not going to get into all of it here. If you want to know, read that post ^. But anyway, this colored my judgement on the series as a whole for a long time. Once I had gotten over the initial shock, I went back and re-read both ACOTAR and ACOMAF leading up the release of ACOWAR. I was able to enjoy them 1000x more and even though I didn’t agree with a lot of the things that were going down, I had accepted that they were happening and was holding out for redemption.

At the same time, though. . .I could totally understand how everyone went so bananas over the series??? Whenever I hear it described as crack, I have to pause and reflect on just how accurate that statement really is. It IS an amazing story, Sarah DOES write amazing characters, so many of the things that happen reduce me to a hysterical emotional mess. And yet, if I really stop and think about it, it’s like Ok wait. . .I actually have some major problems with all of this, like some seriously problematic things are at play here and yet I can’t stop reading and being obsessed with it?? Literal book crack, I tell you.

So once I had made peace the best I could with the series up to that point, I was READY for ACOWAR. I was pumped. And I ended up loving it!!! I was so pleasantly surprised on how things went down. Were there things that I still disagreed with, and wished I could shout from the rooftop to the general fandom? You bet there were. But overall I was so impressed with most of the characters and so much enjoying the direction their stories were going that I found it to be a truly satisfying ending that left me eagerly looking forward to what was to come. I was PUMPED for this novella.

And. . .

I had some issues. You bet I did. I understand this is just a novella and not meant to rival what a full blown novel is like in any way. It’s supposed to be a bridge, in a sense, for further growth for the characters. But this just seemed like a step BACK for so many of them that it made me frustrated.

We may as well just start with the Tamlin thing and get it out of the way, because everyone knows I’m going to rant about it. I am filled with so much rage on behalf of his character, it’s not even funny anymore. I am APPALLED at the way he is treated by everyone, Rhys in particular. All of these people saying he’s “not worthy” of forgiveness. . .I can’t. I literally can’t. The hypocrisy here is so strong I can smell it from another dimension. When I think of how many people in Sarah’s books the narrative has set up for us to forgive, despite the ACTUAL horrible things they’ve done (Jurian--seduced Amarantha’s sister into giving up information, then slowly brutally tortured her to death, the Archeron father--sat by knowing that despite being handicapped, he was leading his children down the path of starvation and death by doing nothing whatsoever to help their situation, Manon--spent decades and decades brutally murdering people (I don’t care if you make the argument that this is her grandmother’s fault for ruining her--I fucking love Manon, she’s one of my favorite characters, but it doesn’t change the fact that she has a lot of blood on her hands, and still did all she’s accused of), even fucking ERIS now apparently has some mysterious redemption-maybe thing going on) I just want to scream. What unforgivable crime is Tamlin guilty of??????? Misunderstanding Feyre? Being delusional? Being immature and talking inappropriate shit in front of other people??

Tamlin NEVER tells Feyre she is “not allowed” or “not worthy” to be a High Lady. NO ONE in Prythian has High Ladies! Feyre tells him she DOESN’T want to be one and he’s like “Don’t worry babe, that’s cool, they’re not really a thing anyway”. Unimpressive? No doubt. But if you’re going to shit all over Tamlin for this reason, then you’d better start doing it to every other High Lord too, given how utterly shocked they are when Feyre and Rhys show up to that High Lords meeting in ACOWAR and announce that Feyre is High Lady. You’d better start saying it about Kallias too, who clearly respects, trusts, and adores Viviane, but has not made her his High Lady. It is literally treated as something Rhys and Feyre made up.

Tamlin has to watch Rhys basically strip Feyre, paint her body with all kinds of weird tattoo art, and drug her into oblivion night after night Under the Mountain. Don’t tell me none of you were a little skeeved by this in ACOTAR. Don’t tell me there wasn’t ONE of you that wasn’t like Wow, this guy is a fucking creep. I’m NOT saying Rhys IS a fucking creep, he is far from it. I’m merely saying it’s not far-fetched at all for someone to think that about him after witnessing that, BECAUSE HE IS ACTING LIKE A FUCKING CREEP. Yes yes yes, we all now understand WHY he did it but guess what?? Tamlin doesn’t! BECAUSE NO ONE FUCKING COMMUNICATES WITH EACH OTHER IN THIS SERIES!!!! (Oh believe me, this is something I’m about to make a fucking point of in a little bit). Tamlin thinks Amarantha’s boyfriend, the guy who treats Feyre this way, has tricked her into residing in his court that no one has ever seen or been to, but Amarantha supposedly modeled her own after. DELUSIONAL DELUSIONAL DELUSIONAL!!! The fact that he couldn’t see how badly Feyre was suffering shows how poorly suited they are for each other. On top of that, we’re told in ACOWAR that finding a mate in the romantic sense that Feyre and Rhys have is rare. Mating bonds can be as simple as the matching of the most productive DNA. Tamlin AND Rhys’s parents were mates who were “wrong” for each other. Rhys gives a whole speech to Feyre about how sometimes the males who were mated to a female feel that they are “entitled” to her and will fight the male she has chosen for herself to the death. While I personally believe this was only added in to bring about drama to the Elain-Lucien-Azriel mess, if it’s something we’re actually sticking to, it certainly sheds a new light on the way Tamlin reacted in Hybern at the end of ACOMAF, where he was snarling at Rhys that he didn’t give a shit if he was Feyre’s mate. Again: DE. LOU. SION. AL. But being a delusional dumb ass is NOT the same thing as being a controlling entitled psychopath. Tamlin, the dumb motherfucker that he is, has no idea that Rhys has even been good to Feyre in any way. Feyre does not say, “We’re in love” and he responds with “I don’t give a shit”. THAT would be as bad as everyone is acting like it is.

The two things I absolutely will give the Tamlin criticizers are: him finally locking her up in the manor and his appalling and completely out-of-line behavior at the High Lords meeting. There’s no good explanation for him shutting her in the manor, other than the fact that he let his own PTSD, fear, and rage get the best of him and control his actions. It was WRONG and he 100% owes her an actual apology for it. I completely understand Feyre harboring bad feelings towards him for that. And then the High Lords meeting. . .come on, dude. It was embarrassing af. I get that he was hurt and pissed and embarrassed, but coming in there and trash talking them, bringing up their former sex life. . .no. It was way out-of-line.

The rest of it, though. . .Rhys keeps harping on and on about how badly Tamlin “hurt” Feyre. I’m sure I’ll get enough hate mail to wrap around the circumference of the world for this, but. . .how? What did he REALLY do that is so unworthy of forgiveness? Wanted her to wear fancy dresses and be an accessory as he ruled the Spring Court? Have his babies? Buried his head in the sand and wasn’t able to cope with her PTSD because he was knee-deep in issues of his own? Locking her up in the manor, fine. I’m 100% with you on that. But like. . .I’d just like to say. In ACOTAR, Rhys deliberately pushed on a bone protruding from Feyre’s arm to get her to cooperate him and agree to agreeing with him. Not only is he completely forgiven for it, it is never brought up again once in the entire series. If that’s going to be brushed aside and ignored, we REALLY can’t forgive Tamlin for making a really poor decision? No one is denying what he did was wrong, least of all me. But my God. You can’t even say that he sided with Hybern and fucked everyone over to get her back. He made it very clear in ACOWAR that he did this purely to gain assistance in (what he believed was) rescuing her, and then planned to take Hybern down from the inside. Do not tell me Rhys wouldn't do the same thing for her. Rhys DID do the same thing for his family and the entire city of Velaris. Rhys did horrible things to protect the people he loved. Imagine how Clare Beddor’s family would feel towards him, and what he subjected her to in the name of protecting Feyre. I know Rhys took all her pain away from her in the moment of the actual torturing but in the case of the point I’m making, that is so not the point. She was still kidnapped from her home and undoubtedly terrified beyond belief. She was still degraded and humiliated in front of strangers who meant her harm. Her family still lost a daughter. Do I blame Rhys for it? No. He took a really awful situation and did what he could to do the best for his loved ones. The world isn’t black and white, sometimes people are forced to choose between a bad choice or a even worse choice. He gets the benefit of the doubt, but Tamlin never does. Anyway, all of these things. . .wanting to mold her into something she’s not, consuming himself in his own head rather than making an effort to dig deeper with her, to me just sounds like two people who aren’t well suited for each other. I’d really like to think that had these people communicated like actual adults, it all most likely could have been peacefully resolved without all this bullshit and drama. Feyre and Tamlin DESPERATELY need to sit down and have an actual conversation, WITHOUT RHYS PRESENT.

So yeah. To see JURIAN, who literally intentionally seduced a woman and then brutally tortured her to death, now apparently be Not So Bad After All and hanging out in the Lucien friend gang but see Tamlin being scorned and mocked and completely dismissed for any sort of redemption is blood boiling to me.

“But--peace. We had peace within our sights.

I could rip him apart after we attained it.”

“Low. It was a low blow. I had everything--everything I’d wished for, dreamed of, begged the stars to give me.

He had nothing. Had been given everything and squandered it. He didn’t deserve my pity, my sympathy.

No, Tamlin deserved what he’d brought on himself, this husk of a life.

He deserved every empty room, every snarl of thorns, every meal he had to hunt for himself.”

“You deserve everything that has befallen you. You deserve this pathetic, empty house, your ravaged lands. I don’t care if you offered that kernel of life to save me, I don’t care if you still love my mate. I don’t care that you saved her from Hybern, or a thousand enemies before that. I hope you live the rest of your miserable life alone here. It’s a far more satisfying end than slaughtering you.”

Congratulations, Rhys. All this I hear about the Honorable, Self-Sacrificing, Most Powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history, and you’ve managed to make me see you as nothing more than a Grade A Dick.

HOW you can bring yourself to be that cruel to someone that is in the level of disparity that he is in is beyond me. Unless he’s a straight up rapist or murderer, I do not believe he deserves this one bit. Feyre “survived” him. . .I have never heard a more overdramatic statement in my life. Feyre survived her severe PTSD. Tamlin was not the cause of this. He did nothing to help it, which is a pretty dick move and definitely not the way you want to treat someone you claim to love, but he is not where her issues were stemming from. Tamlin was severely misguided but his intentions were good. I know no one on the face of the Earth wants to hear that, but is the literal truth. He owes some major apologies and could benefit from some serious self-reflection but Rhys is treating him like he shackled Feyre in a dungeon and beat and raped her repeatedly.

Basically, Rhysand needs to Chill The Fuck Out about many things, and I’ll touch more on this later.

What’s very conflicting for me right now is the direction Sarah’s trying to lead us in. A big thing that I’ve been an advocate of lately is that a character’s thoughts, opinions, and beliefs do NOT mean the author holds those same thoughts, opinions, and beliefs. When people criticize a character’s actions for being problematic, I try to consider the fact that maybe it was intentional of the author to write them this way. Maybe they’re not trying to make them this pillar of morality, maybe they’re just being a character that, at the end of the day, is just that: a character. A form of entertainment. The confliction I’m here is that the narrative has been incredibly biased towards Rhys and Feyre since the first page of ACOMAF. Pretty much every single thing up to this point has been presented as whatever they think, say, and do is what everyone is cheering for. So like. . .does Sarah herself actually feel this way about Tamlin? Or is she just giving us what she truly thinks Rhys and Feyre are feeling about Tamlin at this point, whether that’s right or wrong? I’d truly like to hope for the latter but I honestly can’t tell. Some people are theorizing that this was intentional, to make Rhys seem not quite so saintly and perfect. . .to give him true flaws and an ugly side, to make him more realistic. But I can’t even really find satisfaction in this until I know for sure. All I know is, we haven’t seen the last of him yet. I still think that random girl they rescued from the Hybern camp with Elain is his mate, Briar. (“I spoke to Vairan, Prince of Adriata,” I said, lingering on the other side of the table,the rack of antlers like a briar of thorns between us). Briar Rose, Court of Thorns and Roses, Sleeping Beauty, blah blah blah. I’d bet money on it. At this point, I’d need to see a hardcore turn around in his character and the way he’s treated by the fandom to be satisfied.

Another character I’m pretty appalled at the treatment of is Lucien. Feyre’s attitude towards him in this really pissed me off.

“Interesting.”

His golden eye whirred. “What is.” (OMFG STOP WITH THE QUESTIONS WITHOUT QUESTION MARKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Not feeling very festive at all, I said sharply, “That you now feel more comfortable with humans than with High Fae. If you ask me--”

“I’m not.”

“It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without homes of their own as well.”

Yo Feyre, who had a hand in making it so that he has no home?! Honestly, keep your preachy shit to yourself.

“And what, exactly, does this Band of Exiles plan to do? Host events? Organize party-planning committees?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go. You ruined any chance I have of going back to Spring. Not to Tamlin, but to the court beyond his house. Everyone either still believes the lies you spun or they believe me complicit in your deceit. And as for here. . .I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

Feyre acknowledges that she holds part of the blame for the position he’s in, for the rift she helped create between him and Tamlin. But she “didn’t feel quite guilty enough to warrant apologizing for it. Not yet. Possibly not ever”. Like for God’s sake, is there no end in punishment for some of these people????? It’s like the narrative has decided that there are just some people who’s pain and problems don’t matter (and apparently Jurian, the torturer and murderer, is not one of them). Lucien was a doormat to Tamlin and didn’t step up to help Feyre when she needed someone. But Feyre’s Holier Than Thou attitude towards him is getting old. Lucien has, in my eyes, more than made up for anything Feyre could still be upset about towards him. In some ways, you could argue that he was a victim of Tamlin just as much as she was! He clearly felt super indebted to him because of how Tamlin took him in after he had been exiled from the Autumn Court. He got his eyeball clawed out delivering a message for Tamlin. He was held Under the Mountain and was inches away from being brutally killed (remember Feyre’s second task?). He endured Calanmai in Tamlin’s place. And then he finally decides what he believes in and stands for, and leaves the Spring Court with her. He defends her against his brothers and then finds himself in a foreign court among people he always heard were violent and untrustworthy. He’s viewed as an outsider but he does his best to do what he can for the cause against Hybern. He has no true home, no family that cares about him, no true place in the world. He’s clearly struggling with the mating bond, but respects Elain, gives her her space, and doesn’t try and force himself on her. Not to mention he was the only one who was dropping truth bombs in this entire damned thing: “Your mate should have known better than to kick a downed male”.

And as far as the whole mating bond thing with them even goes. . .aadskflsdjfsjkdslk. If I had one ounce of sense, I would FORCE myself to not care about the situation. I would make myself believe I didn’t have any sort of preference, and that Elain could end up with either him or Azriel and it wouldn't make a difference for me. I know how SJM operates and it has come back to bite me in the ass one too many times. But of course, being a complete masochist, I have set myself up for stress and strife as an Elucien shipper. Not exactly warm and fuzzy feels from these two in this installment. I’m fine though, I’m not mad. It’s true, Elain doesn’t really owe him anything just because they’re mates (perhaps this was the mindset Tamlin had when he first heard Rhys was Feyre’s mate when he believed Feyre still loved him??? Ever occur to anyone???) and if she doesn’t want to be with him that way, of course she doesn’t have to. She’s cold to him, but I think that’s because he’s an obvious physical reminder of the permanence of her Fae life, which she’s obviously still struggling with. She clearly has some issues of her own to work through still, and this isn’t what she needs right now. I’m sure we’ll be dragged through all kinds of shit before we can come to a resolution.

Another HUGE topic of debate right now is Nesta. It’s what I’ve seen people talking about the most. Again, my emotions are a giant clusterfuck regarding this right now because I am so conflicted. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I pretty much agree with everything everyone’s saying on both sides of the argument apart from one thing. I completely disagree with those who are saying that her behavior right now is out of character. This is what I was fully expecting after ACOMAF. I was fully prepared to see her in this state in ACOWAR. Given the deep inner rage we often her about her having, the circumstances under which she became Fae, and all the other shit going on, I figured we had a long and ugly road ahead of us in ACOWAR. When we finally saw her again and found that she wasn’t in this state, I was pleasantly surprised. She clearly had some issues (the whole bathtub thing was heartbreaking) but overall, she was a much more pleasant character to read about than she ever had been before. She was treating Feyre better, she was taking action toward solving problems that affected her, rather than making others do it out of spite, she had some nice moments with Cassian. I found myself warming to her a lot. This one started and it was just immediately a night and day difference. Initially, my question was. . .why now? I didn’t mean that to sound sarcastic or shity, I was really wondering. Now I’m thinking the delay of the onslaught of all this is due to a few things: the fact that she really was this messed up over the whole thing the whole time but was just powering through it because Elain was suffering, the violence she was exposed to in the war, and the complicated feelings she now probably has towards their father.

I have super complicated feelings about Nesta, I always have. I know a lot of people really love her as a character but I find myself hovering somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Point blank: She was awful to Feyre in their human life. And I’m not even talking about “letting” Feyre take on all the responsibility of providing for all of them and do all the hunting. That’s something that really gets me irritated. Just because Nesta was 3 years older than Feyre does not mean that she should be held to the same standard that Feyre’s parent should have been. It was that FATHER’S job to provide for his CHILDREN. Nesta was just as much a victim in that situation as Feyre was. They were all still children when they were going through that shit. . .why should Nesta be expected to figure out how to take care of all of them any more than Feyre had to? It was heartbreaking that that was placed on her shoulders. I don’t blame Nesta for that. What I DO blame her for is how utterly cruel and awful she treated Feyre on a day-to-day basis. When I went back and re-read ACOTAR last year, I was SHOCKED at how blatantly terrible she is to Feyre, I had forgotten how bad it was. For the first part of that book, every thought of self-doubt, unworthiness, or self-hatred Feyre thinks to herself is spoken internally in Nesta’s voice. I’m not exaggerating when I say that--she literally says she hears it in Nesta’s voice. She’s just honestly horrendous overall.

Nesta rose and declared: “I need a new pair of boots.”

I kept quiet, knowing better than to get in the middle of one of their arguments, but I glanced at Nesta’s stil-shiny pair by the door. Beside hers, my too-small boots were falling apart at the seams, held together by only fraying laces.

I looked up in time to see Nesta crinkle her nose with a sniff. She picked at my cloak. “You stink like a pig covered in it’s own filth. Can’t you at least try to pretend that you’re not an ignorant peasant?

I didn’t let the sting and ache show. I’d been too young to learn more than the basics of manners and reading and writing when our family had fallen into misfortune and she’d never let me forget it.

Nesta’s nostrils delicately flared. “There’s nothing you can do. Clare Beddor told me this afternoon that Tomas is going to propose to me any day now. And then I’ll never have to eat these scraps again.” She added with a small smile, “At least I don’t have to resort to rutting in the hay with Isaac Hale like an animal.”

“What do you know?” Nesta breathed. “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up and someday--someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you or to care that you ever existed.”

I don’t really care if you have rage issues or whatever. I don’t really care if you have all this pent up aggression towards your father and are embarrassed that you suck at hunting and can’t provide for the family the way Feyre can. You can still recognize that she has a talent you don’t, and be pleasant, kind, and decent to her instead of looking for ways to unnecessarily insult her. That’s where my issue stems from. The thing I keep seeing brought up (lbr, by Rhys) is that she let her 14 year old sister go off in the woods and didn’t do anything to help. But I’m just like Uhhh forget all that, just tell me why you gotta be such an awful bitch to Feyre?! Now really, I think I know why. Sarah has said herself in interviews that Nesta and Elain were two characters that started out as really one dimensional and surprised her with the direction their characters ended up going and the huge part they ended up playing. I honestly think that at the time she published ACOTAR, she hadn’t made these decisions yet. Nesta is just too awful. Yeah she goes and tries to hunt her down after Tamlin takes her, but she’s so wretched in the beginning that I have to think this was when SJM was simply trying to portray the two wicked sisters thing (which was a thing in the original Beauty and the Beast fairytale).

So yeah, I really REALLY don’t like the person she was at the beginning of the series. All throughout ACOMAF and ACOWAR I would find myself hopping on board the Nesta Is Awesome Train and then come to a screeching halt when I remembered this. She feels so deeply. . .so she tears Feyre down and makes her feel like shit? And yet I’m still pretty invested in her as a character? I don’t even know. I liked the direction her character seemed to be heading, especially after ACOWAR so I was on board for a healing/redemption thing.

Now, did I like where her character’s story was going in this one? Fuck no!!!! Of course not!! Who would?! It was downright unpleasant and draining to read about. Her behavior was destructive and tedious and painful to witness. Maybe I was just getting frustrated because I’m NOT a fan of over-drawn out angst. Like. . .we all know she’s gonna end up a scarred but healed, stronger person like Feyre and live Happily Ever After with Cassian. @thoughtsontomes puts it best in her ACOWAR review video when she says, All we’re hearing is “I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care about any of you!!!! I hate you all, F*** YOU!” when it’s like, “. . . .you don’t though. Like stop. No one really believes you. So just . . stop”. Everyone’s flipping out about the apparent slut-shaming, but that’s not how I saw it. What she’s doing isn’t healthy, in any sense of the word. I saw an objection more towards her motives than the number of men she was entertaining. Sleeping with that high number of strangers when you’re in such a bad place like that has the potential to cause even more lasting damage. So I’m not surprised most of them were like “Um wtf are you doing??”.

The fact that she’s spending through Feyre and Rhys’s money without doing a single thing to earn it was also gross. When she was like “I’ll come to your Solstice thing if you give me three months of rent” I was just like

And then Oh yeah HAHA I’m so dumping all these ridiculous bar charges onto Feyre cuz she won’t ever NOT pay it HAHAHAHA

Look. I get it. She’s suffering. She’s going through some MAJOR shit right now, rivaling (if not worse than) what Feyre went through after ACOTAR. She’s not going through it the same way Feyre did, not at all. Feyre’s manifested itself in hopelessness and despondence, which made it easy for our hearts to bleed for her. Nesta’s is all manifesting in seriously self-destructive behavior. She was unpleasant before she started going through this, she’s unbearable now. This is raw and realistic, but it’s not fun to read about. So I get what people are saying who are feeling annoyed by her story arc.

On the other hand, as I said, SHE IS SUFFERING. Like A LOT. So while I can find myself getting frustrated by having to watch her go through this, a part of me wonders how everyone in the Inner Circle can just dismiss the deep trauma she’s clearly going through. I COMPLETELY agree with everyone who is saying that the way Nesta is being treated by all of them is essentially the same way Tamlin was treating Feyre, which the fandom jumped all over. What did everyone say Tamlin did? Witnessed someone he supposedly cared about wither away into nothingness and didn’t do much of anything about it? Yep, check. At least with him I could say that he was dealing with his own form of PTSD at the time and the relationship fell apart because they couldn’t give each other what the other needed. With these guys it’s like. . .you completely villainize Tamlin for doing this to Feyre, but yet you turn right around and do it to someone else, because her trauma is expressed in a different and more hostile, destructive way than Feyre’s was. And what is Rhys’s justification for that? He can’t forgive Nesta for how she treated Feyre.

One of the main criticisms I see against Tamlin is that he smothered Feyre. He never gave her room to breathe, to be her own person and do her own thing. The only thing that mattered was preserving her and her precious delicate self. I’m just gonna call it like I see it, I’m seeing pretty close to the same thing with Rhys now.

He needs to Chill The Fuck Out. People are going to hurt Feyre. People are going to insult Feyre. People are going to do things that inconvenience, put-out, and piss off Feyre. He has to learn to find some chill with this.

The whole “Elain is Elain” justification for why he has no issues with her but does with Nesta is the most BULLSHIT thing I have EVER read. Um I’m sorry, what?????? Elain is Elain (whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean--if I were Elain I’d actually feel pretty insulted by that. I did the same as Nesta but apparently I’m some ditzy simpleton who didn’t realize what she was doing and shouldn’t be held to the same standards as everyone else?) but Nesta has an Illyrian heart so she should have known better?!? Like I don’t even know where to begin. Elain did the exact same thing you are claiming you’re so upset with Nesta with: let Feyre go off and do the hunting on her own at a young age. Did Elain do a single thing to stop this? No. They literally did the exact same thing. So let’s be real here, Rhys. What you meant by this was: Elain is nice to Feyre and Nesta wasn’t/isn’t. That’s the issue you have here. It’s not that bullshit about Nesta having an Illyrian heart or whatever, it’s that she’s mean to your precious Feyre and you can’t tolerate that. Don’t believe me? He literally says it in the book:

“You can still barely talk to Nesta,” I said. “Yet Elain you can talk to nicely.”

“Elain is Elain.”

“If you blame one, you have to blame the other.”

“No, I don’t. Elain is Elain,” he repeated. “Nesta is. . .she’s Illyrian. I mean that as a compliment, but she’s an Illyrian at heart. So there is no excuse for her behavior.”

“She more than made up for it last summer, Rhys.”

“I cannot forgive anyone who made you suffer.”

Like if he’s really mad at her for being a bitch to Feyre, say you’re mad at her for being a bitch to Feyre!!!!!!! But again, it’s this whole “Should that be my Solstice gift to you? Forgiving Nesta for letting her fourteen year-old sister go into into those woods?” instead of “I really have issues with how ungrateful she acted towards you and how nasty she was in general”. Like, come on, Rhys. I also think Nesta was downright horrible and awful to Feyre in their human life, but like Feyre says, LET’S MOVE ON. She’s clearly let go of it after seeing Nesta working towards making up for it. You can not walk around snarling and hissing and threatening disembowelment to anyone who hurts Feyre’s feelings. You can’t forgive anyone who made her suffer? You’re in for a very long (immortally long) life of negativity and hostility then. Put your Big Boy Pants on and let Feyre handle the situation between her and her sister. If she’s cool with it, be cool with it. Think whatever you want to yourself, vent about it to other people, but quit being this way to Nesta in front of Feyre.

The whole sneak peek at the end was cringey between the two of them also. I can handle Rhys interrupting her and snarling at her to sit down. It wasn’t sweet and nice but let’s be real, she NEEDED someone to get in her face and make her listen at that point. No, for me it was the fact that it made Nesta so afraid to be near him and that kind of power, and when Rhys scented that fear, “one side of his mouth curled up in a cruel smile.”

Yo, if Tamlin had been the one in this scene instead of Rhys, he would be CRU. CI. FIED. I was EXTREMELY glad to see Feyre basically tell him to stfu and put him in his place. Like WTF Rhys. Is this deliberate on SJM’s part? Is this her attempt to “humanize” Rhys and give him flaws, since he basically didn’t have any before??? If so, I appreciate the effort, but maybe give him some that don’t make him like a controlling psychopath (because that title’s reserved for Tamlin and Tamlin only, amirite?! If this were Tamlin, it would be all about his need to control a situation.)

UGH, and Rhys and Feyre talking about Lucien coming for Solstice and him telling Feyre he could “stomach him”.

“I can let go of the taunts”. What taunts?????? Are you for real??? Hate to break it to you Rhys, but are you forgetting the fact that in ACOTAR you showed up to the manor and taunted Lucien about the female he loved being murdered in front of him????? YES, I KNOW HE WAS DOING THIS DELIBERATELY AND DIDN’T REALLY MEAN ANY OF IT AND WOULD NEVER SAY IT IN REAL LIFE. But Lucien had no way of knowing this until very very recently. Here’s the 497th thing that enrages me in this series: the Inner Circle getting shitty towards people for treating Rhys like a bad guy. Like. I’m sorry. I understand it’s frustrating and heartbreaking to see him be viewed and spoken about this way, but this was by his own doing. He literally WANTED people to think this about him. It was his way of protecting Velaris. You can not expect a complete 360 degree turn overnight. Did it happen this way with Feyre?!?!? NO!!!! You have to give people a chance to really get to see and know him before this can happen.

“And the fact that he still harbors some hope of one day reuniting with Tamlin.” Oh yeah, how DARE HE want to reconcile the destroyed friendship he has with the one person who was there for him when his family murdered the woman he loved and kicked him out of his home. How DARE he try and be sympathetic towards Tamlin and want to try and work things out and make them better for both of them. How DARE he want to be able to go back and live in the place that’s become his home. Stfu Rhys.

“But I cannot let go of how he treated you after Under the Mountain.”

“I can. I’ve forgiven him for that.”

“Well, you’ll forgive me if I can’t.” Icy rage darkened the stars in those violet eyes.

I’d like to take everybody back to ACOMAF and this passage that sent everyone screaming from the rooftops, ready with their pitchforks and knives to castrate someone:

“I don’t give a shit if she’s your mate. I don’t give a shit if you think you’re entitled to her. She is mine--and one day, I am going to repay every bit of pain she felt, every bit of suffering and despair. One day, perhaps when she decides she wants to end you, I’ll be happy to oblige her.”

Nothing further needs to be said about THAT.

I said I was going to make a point of the communication issues later on, so here it is: so many of the problems/underlying tension in this series would be solved if people actually communicated with each other like rational adults. I understand that a book with no conflict is boring and stupid, but I’ve just read so many series where the conflict is happening OUTSIDE of the characters, and we see how they have to deal with it. I mean like, it is really really bad in here. No one communicates issues with each other. Feyre doesn’t communicate with Tamlin. Tamlin doesn’t communicate with Feyre. Mor doesn’t communicate with Azriel. Azriel doesn’t communicate with Mor. Cassian doesn’t communicate with Nesta. Nesta doesn’t communicate with anyone. The only ones who seem to consistently have open honest communication with each other are Rhys and Feyre which honestly, at this point, why am I not surprised. Feyre and Tamlin suffer from an abominable lack of communication. Everyone shits all over him for not doing anything to help her after Under the Mountain. But sometimes you have to tell people what you want. I don’t necessarily feel like Feyre expected him to read her mind but at no point does she sit down with him and give it to him straight how it really is with her: I’m struggling and I’m struggling hard. With the way things are going, ______________ is going to happen. What I need from you right now is ____________. Either we can try and work on it together, or I’ll have to find something else that works for me. It’s pretty widely accepted that Tamlin developed some PTSD of his own after ACOTAR and his behavior in ACOMAF is stemming from it. Fine, whatever. But nowhere does he sit Feyre down and lay it all out for her: I’ve been dealing with violent horrible shit all my life. You are the first good thing to happen to me in years. Having to watch you go through that and being powerless to do anything broke me in ways I didn’t know I could be broken. I feel so guilty and awful that you went through that in the name of love for me that I feel like I owe it to you now to keep you as physically safe as possible. If I’m coming across too strong, we can work it out together. (I’m still holding out that this conversation will happen). Mor never tells Azriel she doesn’t love him romantically. I’m not even talking about her sexual preference to females. I’m just really confused why she couldn’t just be like, “You’re a really great guy, but I don’t see you that way. I’m not attracted to you, you’re like my brother”, just like you would any other guy you don’t want to date. Her preference for females doesn’t even need to be brought into it. Az never confronts Mor and is like “When are we going to stop playing this pining game, like it’s been 500 years. These are my feelings for you, do you reciprocate, or don’t you?” (I know Rhys claimed it’s because he feels unworthy of her, but how long were they going to let this go on for? It’s been 500 years). Cassian, I will admit, does finally begin to be one of the first to drop the bullshitting around and have an open and frank conversation with Nesta. It doesn’t go anywhere, but I’ll at least give him credit for trying. Nesta opens up to no one, not even Elain. I get that this is literally part of who she is as a character so I’ll give her that. Some people are literally just like that. But no one can deny that it would be healthy for her to get her feelings out at this point. I mean seriously, the list of issues is endless. Feyre doesn’t give Tamlin a real explanation behind why she left. She doesn’t tell him she’s happy with Rhys and he’s treating her well. They don’t tell anyone (at first) that Rhys’s whole thing with Amarantha was an act and he’s really an honorable noble person. Tamlin doesn’t tell Feyre the real reason he supposedly sided with Hybern and what he was planning to do. Instead, all these people let all these issues sit and stew and stew until they boil over into some big, ugly, dramatic thing. I’m hoping that in this next part of the series, we’ll see some resolvement with all this. These conversations that need to happen will happen. Because until then, it’s frustrating.

The only other thing I wanted to touch on was the baby thing. I’m not really surprised at all about it. Honestly, since the moment I heard Sarah was pregnant, I figured it was only a matter of time before we saw something pregnancy related pop up in one of the series. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I am a HUGE HUGE sucker for domestic things like this. I want to see the whole married with babies epilogue with a big pretty bow on top. Normally any time something baby related is brought up, I’m like UH YES PLZ anytime now would be fine (as long as the characters are in a strong committed relationship with no serious factors affecting it). But when Feyre said she wanted to wait, I totally understood. They are immortal, they have YEARS for this to happen. I liked them falling into their new role as High Lord and Lady, taking their time to slowly but surely recover the best they could from their ordeal, and enjoy each other for a while (because in the grand scheme of things as far as fae go, they’ve barely been together for any time at all). To hear it so soon WAS unexpected, but like I said, also totally not at the same time. I really really thought the reason they were calling Nesta to the New Feysand Palace in the sneak peek chapter was to tell her Feyre was pregnant (you know it’ll happen in the new series). Let’s all pray hard for their future kid though, because while every other child always has the awful possibility of losing a parent and being raised by one, theirs would automatically be an orphan. Their “when one of us dies, the other will” pact/bond was the dumbest thing I’ve ever read.

I swear to God, every time Rhys called her “mate” when he was speaking to her, I read him totally speaking in an Australian accent. It really made me LOL.

You know what DIDN’T?!

“Watch how I fuck you, Feyre.”

One last thing really quickly. . .what is up with this world building? Reading ACOTAR, I got a very clear sense of a high fantasy/medieval-y world. Then ACOMAF opens with Feyre puking into a toilet. I was like Huh?! Toilets? Ooookkay. Then throughout ACOMAF, Feyre is mentioned many times wearing things like leggings, sweaters, and boots. There is a leather sofa in the Chapter 55 Mountain Cabin. Like what else is in there?? A plasma flat screen??

I feel like I just did nothing but spew negativity for the past million years and I DON’T LIKE IT. I’ll say it again: I take no pleasure in feeling any of these things. I am not about hating on an author or series just because it’s become popular. Like I said, CRACK. I definitely feel all these things pretty strongly, but at the same time, I am very much in love with the series. I’m attached to the characters, I’m sucked into the story. I want everyone to be happy. I know you may not believe it, but there ARE things I enjoyed about this novella. A few of them are:

The background information we got about Cassian’s mother and how she is the main motivator in pretty much everything he does. Break my heart :(

The description of the Winter Solstice in the Winter Court. Seriously, it sounded so glorious I had to pause reading for a second and dwell on how badly I wanted to be there for it.

Amren having issues with peeing :D

Amren in general and the bluntness with which she calls people on their shit (“Don’t take her to the wine--take her to the food. I can see her bony ass even through that dress.”)

Feyre helping the children of the Night Court heal their trauma through art.

I think that’s basically it. I’m sorry most of this sounded so negative, but it was all pretty much word vomit. I had so many feelings built up that I just had to get them all out and I feel a lot better now. Do we have a release date for the next one? Like I said: BOOK. CRACK.

#acofas #acofas spoilers #a court of frost and starlight #a court of frost and starlight spoilers #sarah j maas #sjm #feyre archeron #rhysand #tamlin #nesta archeron #cassian #feysand #nessian #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #azriel #elucien

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musicallibrarian93 · 7 years

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Sunlight and Moonlight

Summary: A year after the war, Tarquin is hosting a summer solstice party where the Archeon sisters have fun getting ready, Feyre annoys Tamlin and The High Lord and Lady of the night court share some memories.

Dear Rhysand and Feyre,

As the summer solstice approaches and the grievances of war are beginning to settle I have decided to throw a party to not only celebrate the beginning of a new season but to celebrate the new chance at life we have all been given, the high lords and ladies have been invited from every court to revel in the occasion and I hope my two friends can attend,

Many thanks, Tarquin

P.s. your invitation includes a plus one or should I say plus six.

———

“I think you should wear that one.”

“But I always wear flowers, why can’t I wear something more daring like Nesta. She gets to wear all the reds and the flames.”

Nesta walked into the room clad in an outfit that when moved in the light look like liquid flames.

“I wear red to match my insufferable mates siphons.” She scoffed,

“Well then why can’t I wear blue to match Azriel.” Elain whined,

“It makes too much of a statement.” Feyre said, “especially considering Lucien will be in attendance with his father and I would quite like to avoid the night court being the start of any territorial Male fights.”

“Lucien knows I’m on the edge of rejecting the bond, who I decide to share my bed with is none of his concern.”

“Too much information!” Nesta yelled. Elain mouthed a sorry to her older sister.

“Look our only goal for this party is no fights.” Feyre said, letting out a cough,

Nesta saw the sweat starting to form behind the skin on her youngest sister’s forehead,

“Are you alright, fey?”

“Yeah just kinda nervous.”

“About a certain spring lord.” Nesta have the high lady an all too familiar smirk.

“I know he said he wanted me to be happy,” She twiddled with her thumbs, “but what if he tries to pull the same shit he did at the meeting.”

Surprisingly it was Elain who spoke. “If he so much as glances in your direction I’ll kill him.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll act diplomatically.”

“Don’t make me laugh, darling,” Rhys said walking into the room where the Archeon sisters were readying themselves. He walked up to behind Feyre and snaked his arms around her waist, tracing the delicate beading that shone like individual stars on her navy-nearly-Black dress, “Cauldron knows that he doesn’t stand a chance against my high lady.” He kissed his way up her neck, to that spot behind her ear that made it near impossible to think straight.

“There are other people in this room.” Nesta coughed,

“We are your high lord and and lady, you have no right to talk to us that way,” the high lord said though the shadow of a smile, “in fact I think it’s time you two left me alone with your beautiful sister.”

Before Nesta could utter a objection Elain had grabbed her by the hand, their dresses following as they walked. A spring garden and burning firelight.

“What a terrible abuse of power.” Feyre said to the sound of door shutting, turning around to face her mate.

“As I maintain, it’s one of the many perks to being a high lord,” He leant in for a kiss, “that and having a high lady at my side.”

She kissed him back, her hands moving to his hair and his holding her waist, he murmured onto her lips, “don’t worry about Tamlin.” Feyre squirmed at the sound of his name, Rhys only placed a hand on her cheek and leant his forehead to hers, “He will never come between us, my love,” he kissed her forehead, “we’ve literally overcome death.” At that she let out a disapproving giggle before joining her lips with his.

“Twice.” She murmured, “we’ve escaped death twice.”

“Let’s go show Prythian what we’re made of.”

“Lead the way.”

———

The summer court was beautiful. Banners and streamers glorifying every court on Prythian. Even Beron and his sons scraped up from what ever hell hole they lived in.

Everyone had been dancing and drinking. Nesta and Cassian has proved themselves the best dancers when the song they were dancing to reached its climax and Cassian lifted her in the air. She had giggled. Giggled. The emissary of the night court, king slayer, Cauldron made female who was death incarnate giggled as her mate lowered her to the ground and kissed her soundlessly in the middle of the dance floor with the onlookers applause as their symphony.

Elain and Azriel had been quietly sharing glances with each other all day until he had finally plucked up the courage to ask her for a dance to which she agreed. Lucien was luckily no where near. Elain and Azriel has swayed to the gentle music her head find his chest half way through the song as they moved with their embrace.

Amren and Varian had found a small corner flooded with darkness where they “talked” but Mor saw the secret kisses the two shared when they though no one was looking.

Mor hand flirted and danced with everyone there. She stole glances from everyone, so utterly beautiful and radiant she scared the darkness away. She had finally settled with dancing with a Male from the winter court, presumably Kallias’s cousin given the similar features but Feyre saw the way Mor looked at Viviane’s sister.

Feyre and Rhys had been an eruption of starlight, shining wherever they went, holding hands and stolen cheek kisses. Rhys couldn’t help but graze his hands across Feyre’s stomach every now and then.

Cassian was on no drink duty. Any time he saw Feyre reach for alcohol he had to bat it out of her hands under his high lords orders.

Towards the end of the night the group stood together basking in the heat of the summer court. They looked at the stars that were all too dim here.

Nesta nudged Feyre and Elain, “ginger Ninja and Tamlines at three o’clock.”

All three Archeon sisters turned to the two males who were engrossed in conversation. Feyre’s mind began to drift as nearly two years of horrid nightmares flooded her. Tamlin must have thought she was staring at him. That explained why he began walking over. He’s walking over. Feyre couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

Rhys’ hand was on her waist. Supporting her. Bringing her back to the real world. There was no possession in the touch just pure gentleness.

“Rhysand, Feyre.” Tamlin said as he bent at the waist.

So far so good.

“Tamlin.” Rhys said back,

“How are you enjoying the solstice?” He asked both of them,

“It’s beautiful, I think we’re all having a splendid time.” Rhys answered.

“I hope I am not over stepping in asking Rhysand but I actually came over to see if Feyre would accept my invitation of a dance.”

#feysand #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #nessian #elriel

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waterlilyvioletfog · 7 years

Text

Lucien and Feyre- On Toxic Relationships, Abuse, Manipulation, and Friendship.

“I had not forgotten that long-ago fight he’d picked with Lucien. The warning he’d given him to stop flirting with me. To stay away. The fear that I’d preferred the red-haired lord over him and that it would threaten every plan he had. Back off, he’d told Lucien.” (ACOWAR)

I was rereading these earlier Spring Court chapters from ACOWAR the other night when I found this gem. It struck a chord with me. I’ve had two days since then to mull it over and these are my conclusions, no matter how incoherent they are or how incoherently they are expressed or how much you agree with them, they are what I’ve kind of figured out.

This quote, if I were to point to any in Sarah J. Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses series, best sums up the relationship(s) between our main character Feyre Archeron, her best friend Lucien Vanserra, and her douche-bag ex Tamlin. It is messy and violent and petty and jealous and overbearing and manipulative and toxic and it’s really good for all fucking three of them that they all get out of it.

It’s a quote from the end of the fifth chapter. Feyre is slowly building a bomb with which she intends to blow the Spring Court sky high and part of her plan is using Lucien against Tamlin, using her best friend to make his best friend seethe with rage and doubt and suspicion and paranoia and make the dumb, stupid decisions that come along with that.

In the fourth chapter, she manipulates a religious ritual into declaring her a Holy Blessed Figurehead, specifically designed so that she and Lucien are surrounded in sunlight and imagery of goodness and pureness, and the others, who she hates, are simply. Not. “A knight before his queen,” Feyre describes it, and it’s meant to hurt Tamlin, to cause Tamlin pain. Feyre and Lucien, not Feyre and Tamlin.

In the fifth chapter, later that same night, Feyre scantily clads herself in a lacy nightgown, fakes a nightmare, then bolts out of her room to the room directly across from hers, Lucien’s. She distracts him, tells him she’s having nightmares of a shared trauma of theirs, while she leaves the door purposefully open and hides from Lucien that Tamlin has reentered the house. Lucien, naked from the waist up, hugs Feyre to comfort her because that’s what friends do when the other needs comfort: they provide it. Tamlin enters on an intimate moment, completely constructed by Feyre to look like either the end or the beginning of some level of intimacy, and he gets really jealous of Lucien because of the quote at the beginning of this essay and he storms out. Lucien, clueless Lucien, who is essentially married to Feyre’s sister, is the biggest victim here.

This happens again. And again. And again. In the early ACOWAR chapters: Feyre uses her closeness with Lucien against Lucien and Tamlin, and sets it up as Feyre + Lucien vs. Tamlin + Ianthe, completely without Lucien’s knowledge or consent. This. Is. Abuse. Abuse of Tamlin, perhaps, but mostly abuse of Lucien. Lucien, who is an enabler and a Fixer, yes, and also Feyre’s best friend who gave her her first fae weapon when she came to Prythian. Lucien, who desperately loves Feyre and is desperate to get back to Elain and desperately wants to save Prythian, and has been sexually, verbally, physically, and emotionally abused by different characters at different points in this series. Lucien, who goes with Feyre in chapter ten because he can’t go back.

And this bothers me! It bothers me that this is Feyre’s best friend, and she is manipulating Lucien to hurt Tamlin and because she is using Lucien to hurt someone Lucien loves, she is hurting Lucien. And he doesn’t really recognize it.

Feyre and Lucien’s relationship is complex, built upon the understanding that they understand each other and they want what’s best for the other. And they do want that, even if their ideas of “what’s best for each other” are completely and totally wrong. Feyre and Lucien hurt each other a lot in this series, from their fighting in ACOTAR, to Lucien’s desperate attempts to fix what is unfixable in ACOMAF because Lucien, for all his swaggering sarcasm and acerbic wit, does not actually like CONFLICT, to these early chapters in which Feyre stabs Lucien in the back over and over and over while hugging him and calling it love and he doesn’t even notice the blood pouring down his skin. Feyre doesn’t totally, either.

Feyre and Lucien are connected in ACOTAR by the fact that they both love Tamlin and are willing to do pretty much anything for him, even die for him, and then Feyre does die for Tamlin.

And then suddenly Feyre has done everything for Tamlin and what else can she do? Feyre can’t really handle this, not on top of the trauma and her newfound body and powers and Rhys, and she shatters apart and she shatters away from Tamlin. Lucien, seeing this, is terrified because again, Lucien, for all his swaggering sarcasm and acerbic wit, does not actually like CONFLICT and he tries to fix everything and put it all back in place. Tamlin, meanwhile, refuses to acknowledge that Feyre has shattered at all, that he has fractured his soul by letting Feyre and Lucien give up everything for him. Feyre has changed, Tamlin cannot meet this change, and so Feyre leaves. Tamlin shatters completely, and Lucien goes into the forest to find Feyre and then he goes into the cave with Ianthe because Tamlin can only perform the ceremony with Feyre he’s that broken, and then he tells Tamlin to go ahead and do the thing and make an alliance with Hybern, to get Feyre back, do literally anything if it means Feyre comes back and he does not have to see those shadow wings on her and he does not have to go into the cave with Ianthe next year.

(And just as a quick aside because I do not want to sell this short: TAMLIN ABUSES FEYRE AND LUCIEN FAR MORE AND FAR MORE PERMANENTLY THAT FEYRE AND LUCIEN EVER ABUSE EACH OTHER. Tamlin sexually abuses Feyre by forcing her to have sex with him [and yeah it’s not like rape rape but the sex is still without her consent and control] and Tamlin from what I can tell emotionally manipulates Lucien into having sex with a woman who has been sexually harassing him for. months. and that’s also sexual abuse and there is near constant emotional abuse of Lucien and Feyre by Tamlin throughout the first second and third books. I am aware of all of this and acknowledging it here and now because I’m not focusing on that: I’m focusing on two people who love each other and still end up hurting each other and doing morally bad things to each other and that is Feyre and Lucien because what Feyre did was fucked up even if we cheered her on and I can’t always root for Feyre because she does things like this.)

And that’s why everything happens: everything happened. Lucien says make the alliance with Hybern because he can’t live in a Spring Court without Feyre any more or less than Tamlin can, and that’s because Feyre left, which is because she died, which is because of Amarantha, which is because of a war 500 years ago that ended with the Wall being risen and Rhys and Tam becoming High Lords and Lucien being born.

So Feyre’s actions against Lucien bother me, because he doesn’t deserve her abuse any more than she deserved Tam’s. No one deserves what they reap exCEPT FOR IANTHE AND AMARANTHA AND HYBERN AND THE EVIL WONDER TWINSES THOSE SONS OF GODDAMN BITCHES CAN GO FUCKING FUCK THEMSELVES WITH HORSE-POWERED POGO STICKS-

Anyway.

And so we go back to the beginning and why I think it’s a good thing that the trio who were our heroes in the first book are separated and on different journeys by mid-way through the third.

Feyre’s off being a badass with Rhysand at her side, a male that loves her, all of her, and soothes her, and understands her, and if she asked for him to, would leave her and let her leave him. Feyre needs space to paint in. Feyre needs the calm stillness of the Night.

Tamlin is dealing with his own angst and his own shit by himself and I’m glad that in the end Sarah let him give Rhys the magic magic kernel of magic. I’m happy that he’ll get a shot at redemption, or at least of moving on from Feyre and accepting that they are no longer compatible and that to think otherwise is delusional and toxic and leads to the deaths of hundreds and thousands and millions.

Lucien has to be a hero. He can no longer simply be the one Feyre and Tam rely on, he has to be the one who saves the day and makes friends with weird cursed queens because he and his pseudo-wife aren’t ready to be married yet if that makes sense.

But just as Feyre and Tamlin, at the very end of the book, agree to coexist as far away from each other as possible and stop letting other people get hurt to hurt each other, I think Feyre and Lucien have a good shot of getting back to that friendship. Lucien is a member of the Inner Circle now, Lucien is Elain’s mate: Lucien’s fate always has been and always will be linked with Feyre Archeron and the Archeron sisters.

And I guess that’s what I feel about Lucien Vanserra and Feyre Archeron and Tamlin Who Is Still A Tool.

[ @propshophannah because I feel this needs to be addressed at some point.]

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crazybookperson · 8 years

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Why I Love The ACOTAR Characters (Except Tamlin fuck that guy)

This is going to be long. This is also just going to focus on the Inner Circle because they are the characters I love the most.

Let’s start off with Mor shall we?

Mor:

Mor has been through a lot in her life. She had the good fortune (note my sarcasm) of being born into her family. She was mistreated and abused all her life. She was seen as a piece of meat that could be sold to the highest bidder.

She rebelled against it though when she learned that they planning to marry her off to one of the Autumn Court boys. She knew she was just going to trade one bad situation for another so she took control of her life and slept with Cassian. She knew what the consequences would be, but she wanted a better life for herself.

What her family did to her after they found out she had given herself to an Illyrian was horrendous. And I hope we get to see the day that she tears the Night Court to shreds. But I love her because this experience made her stronger, it may have been hard to get past it at first but look at where she is now She is stronger and she is a queen who won’t let anyone tell her how she should be ever again.

Amren:

Amren is my small bean. She is feisty and brave and a total badass. Like more she’s not going to let anyone tell her what to do with her life. She’s also so loyal. Look at how she reacted when she learned that Feyre was back at the Spring Court. She was ready to tear the whole world to shreds to keep her High Lady safe. To keep her friend safe.

I think it’s beautiful that she feels such a strong emotion for someone she barely knows. Feyre and Amren never really had much interaction that we saw in the books, so how much did they really know about each other?

I really want to see her break free and go back to her true form, to become the being she once was. I want Amren to be the badest, scariest bitch there is and I want to see people’s reactions to her in her true form. Especially if it is when they are fighting Hybern because I want the Hybern armies running away in fear because of Amren in all her glory.

Cassian:

Besides Rhysand, Cassian is my favorite male in this book. Like damn man he’s super fucking hot, and we’re similar in a lot of ways. He added something to the group. He’s that friend that you would be lost without because they are just the one that adds something extra to the group.

I also love how he cares. He’s so caring of his friends. Even Nesta who he has a love-hate relationship with. When Hybern was going to put her in the Cauldron he fought even though he was badly injured. His wings, his pride a joy, were torn to shreds and he could damage them more by fighting to keep her safe.

In that moment to me it seemed like he didn’t give two shits about his wings, he knew that someone he was fond of and that meant something to one of his other friends was in danger and he had to do something to protect them.

Azriel:

Azriel is that friend that is quiet, but he listens. He knows when you need space and he will put everyone else’s needs before his own. I am that friend. If someone I love is hurting or in danger I will drop everything to be there for them.

I know that it is killing him inside to see what his friends are going through now and I hope and pray that he finally says fuck it and beds Mor because let’s face it this boy needs a medal of some kind. He needs to put himself first for once. And I get why he hasn’t yet because he doesn’t want to mess up his friendship with Mor, but I just really want these two crazy kids together.

Rhys:

I know Rhys isn’t perfect and that’s what I love about him. He is flawed, he has done things. I feel like a lot of book boys now days try to be perfect, like the authors are trying to make them seem perfect because what girl wants a guy that isn’t perfect? Rhys is broken and healing and that is what I love about him.

He has been through so much and I just want him to finally know peace. I want him and Feyre to win this war and live in peace for the rest of their lives. I want them to be happy. I want them to have kids and be surrounded by those who love them the most. I want him to finally forgive himself.

He’s lost so much. His mother, his sister, he lost his mate once, but got her back only lose her again. Now war is hanging over his head and he has to try and keep Prythian safe.

Can’t this poor man catch a break?

Feyre:

I saved her for last because Feyre means so much to me for so many reasons.

Like Feyre I suffer from anxiety and there for awhile I felt like she did. I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t feel like doing the things I loved. When I read ACOMAF I was better, I had a handle over my anxiety and my panic attacks but here was this girl that was suffering from the same thing I went through.

Who had nightmares about something traumatic she went through. I literally broke down crying during some parts because I understood and for the first time I actually related to a character on a deeper level than I normally do.

And like me she healed. She got better, but she is still a little broken, and that might never heal. But as long as she has those who love her around she knows she’s going to be okay, and that really spoke to me.

So I relate to Feyre on a deep level and I get her, I understand her, and that is why I love her.

This is why I love all the characters. They are flawed and they are broken, but they are a family and they know that together they will be okay because they all have one another’s backs. They won’t let anything hurt them.

I love this series so much. It means a lot to me and I really hope the third book doesn’t destroy me because I will probably never get over it.

#ACOTAR #ACOMAF #Feyre #Rhys #Cassian #Azriel #Amren #Mor #Sarah J Maas

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

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Alone in the Ashes {10}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click > Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I figured two chapters in one night is okay since, you know, it’s short....and everyone should go to bed sad.

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“He left bloody fingerprints on the rock, but there was something satisfying about that. I was here. I exist. I’m alive, because I bleed.” ― Maggie Stiefvater, Blue Lily, Lily Blue

Rhysand sat in the quiet interrogation room.

At least they had uncuffed him.

He’d been sitting there, in the silence, running on pure adrenaline for at least forty minutes. He wanted to call Feyre, but even if he had his phone, they would have taken it from him.

On the ride to the station, no one answered his questions. And he had asked a lot of them. Eventually, he had given up and let the nature of things take its course.

The door to the white, nearly empty room opened and Beron Vanserra walked in. Rhysand said nothing as he sat in the chair opposite of him.

“Rhysand,” Beron began, and cleared his throat. “Tell me why you’re here.”

Rhysand blinked. “Surely you’re aware, because I sure as hell am not.”

Beron nodded, face grave. “Look, Rhys,” he began, using that old, familiar nickname. “We got a call-”

“From Tamlin?” Rhysand guessed. “Beron, you’ve known me since I was five. Alright? You know my character. I’m not some dumbass teenager who gets high in his mom’s basement then thinks it’s fun to go spraypaint dicks on historical landmarks.”

Beron rubbed his temples. “Rhysand-”

“For fuck’s sake!” he said, unable to keep his cool. “I just get home from work, get handcuffed and dragged out of my fucking apartment - while my girlfriend and the entire fucking neighborhood watches, might I add - for what?” Rhysand shook his head. “Because Tamlin’s rich and his daddy has a lot of power? Because that’s my fucking guess.”

“Rh-”

“If you’re going to interrogate me, I have nothing to say. I was at work all day, every day, and when I’m not at work, I’m at home with Feyre-”

“Rhys, if you do not stop talking, I will have an actual reason to throw you in jail,” Beron snapped.

Rhysand blinked, and closed his mouth.

“Thank you,” Beron hissed. “Now, I’ve talked with the officers that picked you up.”

Beron hesitated, and Rhysand was certain it was the only time he had ever seen the man hesitate.

“You were always a good friend to Lucien before he moved away,” Beron said, voice quiet, “and because of that, I won’t lie to you, but if you tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, and I lose my job, I will find a reason to lock you up.”

Rhysand’s jaw went stiff.

He nodded.

“You and Tamlin have never gotten along, I understand that,” Beron went on, and Rhysand stilled. “And as you said, he hails from a powerful family - one that owns this force and half of everything else in this city. Unfortunately, Rhys, whatever you’ve done recently to piss Tamlin off, he’s vengeful. As far as the police go, I’ll do what I can to set matters straight, but this isn’t the only thing he’ll try.”

With a muttered curse, Rhysand shook his head.

“Now,” Beron said, tossing a plastic bag on the table with Rhysand’s wallet in it that was taken from him when he entered the station, “go home.”

He snatched the bag from the table and pushed back the metal chair, which screeched along the tile.

“Thanks,” Rhysand said, as he and Beron walked toward the door.

Beron gave him a curt nod. He’d always been a hard man, unreadable, but Rhysand appreciated his honesty.

“Need a ride home?” Beron asked.

Rhysand shook his head. “I’ll take the bus, thanks. Can I use the phone, though?”

He made a quick call to Feyre before he left, promising to be home soon and to explain everything when he got there.

Beron said nothing more as he and Rhysand parted ways. He exited into the station lobby before ending up in the steps out front. The streetlights were on as the sun had completely disappeared.

He was so fucking tired as he slumped down the steps and down the sidewalk, towards the bus stop.

He couldn’t wait to get home.

But he didn’t even make it to the bus stop before someone grabbed him by the elbow.

Rhysand didn’t have the chance to turn around before he was knocked in the back of the head, and everything went black.

~~~~~

Feyre paced back and forth as Mor, Azriel, and Amren sat on her couch, Mila asleep on Mor’s lap. Rhysand had called Feyre from the police station, telling her he’d be home in thirty minutes, tops, and he’d explain when he arrived, but that had been over an hour and a half ago.

“I don’t understand,” Feyre said, shaking her head. “I don’t fucking understand.” She had googled for news stories after Rhysand left. There was nothing on any vandalism done to the chapel. Amren had even stopped there on her way over and confirmed it.

“I wish you’d at least try to relax,” Amren said, calmly. “It won’t do Rhys any good if you have a panic attack.”

She had already cried and gotten pissed off. Now, Feyre was just worried.

“At least let me get you something to drink,” Mor said, patting Mila softly on the back.

Azriel was the only one who hadn’t said a word since he’d arrived.

“He doesn’t have his phone?” Mor asked, for the third time, when Feyre didn’t answer.

Feyre shook her head. “It’s in the kitchen.”

The front door burst open and everyone’s eyes shot to the entryway.

Cassian strode in.

Nesta at his heels.

Feyre froze.

“Sorry,” Cassian said, walking to Feyre and taking her face into his hands. “I came as soon as I got the message. You alright?”

Feyre shook her head before stepping back and looking at Nesta. “Why are you here?”

Nesta didn’t answer. She showed no emotion as she sat in the armchair in the corner.

“She was with me at the garage,” Cassian said, softly. “What happened?”

“Cops came in,” Amren began, “arrested Rhys for vandalism that never happened.”

Cassian’s brows scrunched together. “That makes no sense.”

“Obviously,” Mor said, sighing, “which is why we’re all sitting here looking confused as shit. Doesn’t help that he said he’d be here an hour ago and, as you can see, he’s not.”

Amren was looking back and forth between Cassian and Nesta, but as she opened her mouth to say something, Cassian shot her a look and shook his head.

Feyre’s hands raked through her tangled hair. She kept going back to the same thought, the same man. Rhysand didn’t have enemies, just one. “It was Tamlin. I know it was Tamlin.”

Azriel looked up at this, and Feyre saw the wheels moving inside of his mind. Feyre had sounded certain, and Azriel had never doubted her. “What’s his number?”

“What?” Feyre breathed. “No, you’re not calling-”

“No, I’m not,” Azriel said, words clipped, “but give me his number.”

She did so, and Azriel fiddled on his phone for a few minutes. As he concentrated on whatever it was he was doing, Feyre felt like she was going to puke. The rest of the room sat in tense silence.

Nesta included.

As the minutes passed, which Feyre felt lasted far too long, Azriel didn’t give much away, but then he froze. “Fuck.”

Cassian was instantly turning around. “What?”

But Azriel was already on his feet. He looked to Mor. “Take Mila home, put her to bed.”

Mor nodded, no questions asked.

“What’s going on?” Feyre asked, that panic returning in the pit of her stomach.

“Stay here, keep your phone on,” Azriel said. “Cass and I are going for a drive.”

“Azriel,” Feyre begged, hurrying after him.

He stopped at the door to pull on his shoes. “He’s sitting in the middle of nowhere, near the forest on the other side of town. Either he’s looking for a fight or he’s fucking some poor girl in the backseat of his car.”

Feyre froze, and paled.

“Cass and I are going,” Azriel repeated, his voice calm. Cassian was already throwing open the door. “I’ll call.”

Feyre nodded, but by the time she had, they were already gone.

~~~~~

Rhysand woke up to nothing but darkness.

His head hurt like shit. He was dizzy. He was stuck in a compact compartment, the world moving around him.

He was in the trunk of a car.

A small one, he imagined. He couldn’t move, at all, his body, tall and lean, scrunched together and lying awkwardly.

He didn’t know how long he’d been out.

Didn’t know where he was.

Didn’t know who had him.

He didn’t have to wait for long, though, because the car came to a screeching halt.

Rhysand jolted in the trunk, hitting every inch of his body against something.

Didn’t help his headache.

A minute later, the trunk opened and Rhysand was staring into the eyes of Eris Vanserra.

He took Rhysand by the collar and dragged him out of the trunk. The second Rhysand’s feet hit the grass, he felt like he was going to fall over.

His head.

His vision was blurry.

“It’s been a while, Lunasa, hasn’t it?” Eris crooned, forcing Rhysand down on his knees before jamming something hard into Rhysand’s side.

He grunted, trying to keep his vision steady.

Rhyasnd saw a gleam in the side of his eye, the moonlight reflecting off metal.

He’d been hit with the hilt of a knife.

Let’s hope I don’t get the other end.

The driver’s side door opened and he got out, his hair cut shorter than Rhysand remembered, but still that bright, golden hue. He could be seen from a mile, even in the darkness.

Tamlin said nothing as he walked, slowly, to where Eris had Rhysand.

He stopped in front of them and tilted his head. “Second time I’ve seen you get your ass kicked recently.”

Rhysand said nothing.

Instead, he fought to get up, but didn’t get far.

A long blade snuck up beneath Rhysand’s chin, against his neck.

Rhysand stilled.

Tamlin shook his head. “Did you enjoy your run in with the law?”

Rhysand stayed quiet.

“I thought it’d be pretty funny,” Tamlin grinned. “Turns out, I was right. Anyway, I won’t keep you long. Just wanted to talk.”

Rhysand scoffed. “I have a phone.”

“This is much more interesting,” Eris said, from over his shoulder. “For us, anyway.”

Prick.

Tamlin went closer to Rhysand before he said, “Feyre promised me you two weren’t together, that you weren’t the reason she left, but she forgets that I know a lot of people in this city, as does my father. It seems you two are closer than ever lately.”

Rhysand grinned. “Stalking us? Surely you have better things to do.”

Tamlin’s eyes hardened. “How long has she been whoring around in your bed, Rhys?”

Rhyasnd didn’t answer, but his eyes flared. The minute Rhysand tried to move toward Tamlin, the blade pressed into his neck.

Rhysand could feel a streak of blood trailing down his neck as he spat at Tamlin’s feet.

Tamlin didn’t seem bothered, though, as he said, “You didn’t answer my question. Has it been a few months? A year? Has it been going on all along and I’ve just been there to get her nice things and take her nice places, because you sure as hell can’t on a waiter’s salary.”

“Fuck you,” Rhysand said, lifting his chin, his vision blurring, once more, as the pounding in his head returned at the faint movement.

“Tell me!” Tamlin screamed, his voice echoing in the silence of the abandoned street. “Feyre has been mine since high school, and then she leaves without feeling any sort of guilt and goes straight to you, her lowlife lover, and that’s not a coincidence.”

Rhysand, despite feeling the need to pass out, laughed. “She left you because you’re a fucking cunt, Tamlin! You’re possessive, and manipulative, and make her feel like shit about herself. She didn’t feel guilty because she was so fucking tired of your bullshit!”

Rhyand screamed the words so violently that the blade Eris was holding pressed tighter against his skin.

Tamlin didn’t react, though. He simply looked at Eris, and nodded.

The blade was removed from Rhysand’s neck, but the moment Rhysand let out a breath, Tamlin had kicked him in the abdomen.

Clutching his stomach, Rhysand fell forward as Tamlin’s boot met Rhysand’s knee, then his side, his back. He could hear his nose break, but couldn’t convince his hands to reach up, to try and stop the blood. Tamlin’s boots made contact over, and over, and over again.

Rhysand didn’t bother to fight.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t move.

For the second time in a matter of months, Tamlin had caught him off guard and weakened him - the only way Tamlin knew how to win was to play dirty, and he was good at it.

His eyes fluttered shut as he heard the car engine turn on.

Rhysand’s world was dark before they even drove away.

~~~~~

Cassian and Azriel were driving with their windows down, speeding down the road where Azriel had tracked Tamlin’s phone.

They hadn’t seen a car in a while, but that didn’t mean anything. If anything at all, it meant that it was the perfect place to kick somebody’s ass.

“Anything?” Azriel called from behind the wheel, eyes scanning the road.

Just as Cassian was about to say no, he stopped himself. “Fuck- stop!”

Azriel slammed on the breaks, his truck sliding before it came to a complete stop. Cassian was already unbuckled and throwing open the door, though, before Azriel had even put it in park. He hurried to the shoulder, at the limp body that laid there.

Azriel came up behind them, face paled. “Fuck.”

Cassian was on his knees, rolling Rhysand over. He pressed his cheek against his chest, felt his pulse. “Breathing is okay. Come on, let’s get him up.”

With Azriel on one side and Rhysand on the other, they carried Rhysand into the backseat of Azriel’s truck. He was completely unconscious. In the light, he hardly looked like himself. His nose was bloody, definitely broken, his eyes swollen, his neck cut. A dark, black and blue bruise covered the faint one that had just about healed, on his cheekbone.

“Shit,” Cassian breathed, and met Azriel’s gaze.

There were very few times Cassian had seen Azriel’s murderous gaze.

This was one of them.

“Let’s get him to the hospital,” Azriel said, pulling up the hem of Rhysand’s torn shirt, his eyes hardening at the discoloration. “Make sure he doesn’t have any internal bleeding.”

Cassian nodded before hopping back into the truck. The minute Azriel sped off, Cassian pulled out his phone.

Calling Feyre, hearing her heartbreak, was the last thing he wanted to do.

~~~~~

Feyre couldn’t stop herself from crying. “Okay, I’m-I’m on my way, I’ll meet you there.”

She hung up the phone, turned to the others.

Amren and Nesta were already on their feet, Mor clung to Mila, still asleep, on the couch.

“They’re taking him to the hospital. He…...They’re taking him to the hospital. I have-I have to go to the hospital.”

“Give me your keys,” Nesta said, instantly.

Feyre shot her a glare. “Why.”

“Because you’re in no condition to drive,” she explained. “I will bring you.”

Feyre hesitated, but nodded.

“I’ll come, too,” Amren said, then looked to Mor. “Go home, put her to sleep, we’ll call as soon as we hear anything.”

Eyes weary and lined with silver, Mor nodded.

The three of them piled into Feyre’s little car, Nesta behind the wheel. She wasted no time starting it up and pulling out of the parking lot.

Feyre couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t stop panicking, couldn’t stop sobbing.

Amren reached up from the back seat and put her hand on Feyre’s shoulder.

“It’s my fault,” Feyre sobbed. “It’s my fucking fault.”

“It’s not your fault that Tamiln’s a hateful prick,” Amren said.

Nesta stayed quiet, but she drove, quickly, through the city.

Feyre screamed, loudly, deafening.

No one stopped her.

They couldn’t go to the police, couldn’t say anything. It would just be brushed under the rug. Feyre felt helpless. Feyre felt sick. Feyre was terrified of getting to the hospital, terrified of seeing Rhysand in pain because of her faults.

Because of her past.

By the time Nesta pulled into the hospital’s parking lot, Feyre could hardly breath. Nesta looked in the rearview mirror and caught Amren’s eye. “I’ll drop you both off at the door?”

Amren nodded, and when Nesta pulled up to the doors, Amren got out, and waited for Feyre, but Feyre couldn’t move.

She looked at Nesta.

Her oldest sister was already watching her. For once, her eyes were not hard, emotionless. She gave Feyre a nod of encouragement.

Feyre got out of the car.

Hand in Amren’s, they walked into the hospital.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #nessian #feysand #elriel #tacmc aita

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

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Alone in the Ashes {2}

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click > Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: And so it begins.

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“When you spend so long trapped in darkness, Lucien, you find that the darkness begins to stare back.” ― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I’m so sorry, you poor bastard,” Feyre breathed, after learning that Cassian now lived across the hall from her eldest sister.

He chuckled, drinking from his glass. “She doesn’t seem that bad. That guy of hers seems like a real prick, though.”

Feyre snorted. “Don’t get me started.”

Cassian opened his mouth to speak but Rhysand leaned over. “No, seriously, don’t get her started.”

Feyre nudged him in the shoulder, causing him to laugh. “Anyway, where’s Azriel? He said he’d be here by now.”

“Had to go get Mila,” Cassian said, finishing off his glass. “Unexpectedly. Just texted about a half hour ago. There was an incident, apparently. The police called this time.”

Feyre nodded, understandingly. It wasn’t the first time Azriel’s plans had changed last minute, but when he was called on, he always went to get Mila.

Rhysand waved the bartender over, calling for another beer. “Karaoke night. Added you to the list, Feyre.”

Feyre froze. “Uh, no. I’m not going up there. Not after last time.”

Cassian grinned as Rhysand said, “I thought you gave a beautiful rendition of Like a Virgin.”

“Fuck you,” she murmured, and cursed herself for smiling.

A live band played in the corner, the lead singer getting far too into it. He’d taken his shirt off and given it to a drunk girl cheering him on about thirty minutes before, and after that, Feyre just hadn’t been able to take him seriously.

“Alright, I’ve had enough sadness,” Feyre said, hopping off her bar stool and handing her tall glass to Rhysand. “Come on, Cass. We’re going to dance.”

Cassian groaned, but it was all for show, because the moment he was on the dance floor, he had his arms around Feyre’s waist and he was swinging her around.

“You should ask Rhys!” Cassian yelled into her ear above the music. “He’s a better dancer than me!”

“But this is how I get all the ladies to notice you!” Feyre yelled back, grinning from ear to ear.

Cassian laughed, and spun her in a circle.

Feyre loved to dance. She didn’t do it often, only when she went out with the boys. She used to dance with Mor, but she was always busy with school, lately, since she decided to further her education. She wanted to be a doctor. How selfish.

She had called her on the way to the bar, with Rhysand in the car with her, behind the wheel.

Stop studying and come dance with me, she had said into the phone.

Mor had laughed. It’s finals week! A few more days and I get to come home for the summer. Then, we will dance, I promise.

Until then, she had Cassian.

And every time Feyre brought Cassian out onto the dance floor, the girls gravitated toward him.

True enough, as the second the song ended and another was beginning, a tall, blonde woman with a short black dress and combat boots had come up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. The second he turned to face her, Feyre hurried away.

Rhysand was laughing, watching the scene unfold. He handed Feyre her glass as she sat back on her stool.

“Works every time.”

“You’re the greatest wing man,” Rhysand agreed, pressing his bottle to his lips. “Alright, now it’s my turn.”

He set his glass on the bar top before standing up and holding out his hand. Feyre drained her glass before putting her hand in his.

He pulled her close to his body. He smelled of lavender and vanilla.

“Have you been using my soap?” she asked, leaning forward to talk into his ear.

He laughed, his breath hot against the side of her face as he said, “That depends...will you be pissed if I said yes?”

“Damn it, Rhys,” she said, unable to stop her grin as one of his hands found her waist, the other still in her hand.

They danced, and Feyre found herself loving every minute of it. Everything came so natural with Rhys. For the first time in a long time, Feyre was enjoying herself without any thought of all she had been going through.

That joy was nice, while it lasted.

Because half an hour later, Rhysand was pulled back by the shoulder and knocked to the floor by a fist that belonged to a man, all too familiar.

“What the fuck?” Feyre yelled, looking into Tamlin’s deep, green eyes.

“I knew it,” he hissed. “I fucking knew it.”

It was what he had accused her of, once more, when she was at his apartment that morning, getting the rest of her things.

You fucking Rhys, yet? He’d asked.

Feyre never answered him. She just got the box of her shit and left.

Rhysand was back on his feet, a bruise already forming on his eye bone, Cassian having come to Feyre’s side.

“Fucking whore,” Tamlin spat, then Cassian was standing in front of Feyre.

“You need to leave,” Rhysand said, as the music died down, obvious that there was a scene about to play out.

Feyre was mortified.

“Why?” Tamlin asked, turning around to face Rhysand. “This is a public space, I am just as welcome here as anyone else.”

“No,” Rhysand said, eyes narrowed. “You’re not.”

“Says the guy that was just knocked on his ass.”

Cassian took a step closer to Tamlin’s back, just as Rhysand took a step closer in front of him. “You need to leave, Tam.”

“Tam,” he repeated the old nickname. “Been a while since I heard that from you. Or Feyre, for that matter. But, I suppose she would stop calling me by my nickname the moment she started fucking you-”

Rhysand’s fist met Tamlin’s jaw, and Tamlin stumbled, catching himself before he could fall onto the floor.

Feyre’s eyes went wide as blood trickled out of the side of Tamlin’s mouth.

Tamlin started forward, but Cassian intervened, pushing Tamlin back by his shoulders. He whispered something feral into his ear, which made Tamlin stop. He looked from Feyre to Rhysand, shook his head, and walked out. Cassian looked back at the band, and said, “Where’s the music?”

They started up again and people began dancing like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Feyre’s hands were shaking, though, as she excused herself and hurried to the restroom. She locked herself inside of a stall and cried.

She was pissed.

Pissed at Tamlin, pissed at the sight of him, pissed that he came to ruin her night.

She was pissed at Rhysand, pissed that he’d punched her ex. He was better that than, better than to stoop to Tamlin’s level.

She was pissed at herself. Pissed that she cared. Pissed that it bothered her at all.

The door opened, and loud footsteps trailed to the other side of the stall door.

“Feyre.” A soft knock. “Open up.”

“Fuck off,” she said, wiping at her eyes.

“Open the door or I’ll crawl underneath and this floor is disgusting.”

Angrily, Feyre unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Rhysand was standing there, arms crossed. The bruise beneath his eye was turning a soft shade of blue. “I’m sor-”

“I’m ready to go home.”

Rhysand frowned. He reached out for her hand, and she let him take it. He pulled her toward him, into his chest, and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. Okay? I got pissed. I caused a scene. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t just go around hitting people,” she said, voice muffled into his shirt.

“I know,” he said.

“And I can stand up for myself without the two of you brutes causing a scene,” she said, referring to him and Cassian, who was most likely back to dancing with the tall blonde.

“I know,” he said, and leaned back, taking her face into her hands.

His eyes were full of worry, full of regret.

She understood where Tamlin was coming from, she supposed, in the fact that it would not be the craziest thing for Feyre to end up with Rhys. He was her best friend and she loved him, more than she loved most people, differently than she loved anyone else.

But they had never done anything. They had only ever been friends.

“Let’s go back out there. Drinks are on me,” he said.

“I thought they were already on you,” Feyre said, and Rhysand grinned, although it didn’t meet his eyes.

“I am sorry,” he said. “You can hit me, if you want.”

“Tempting,” Feyre mumbled, before pushing against his chest. “I’m going to poke you in your bruise when you least expect it.”

Rhysand laughed. “Feel better, do you?”

Feyre rolled her eyes, then pressed her lips to his cheek. Rhysand tensed, but it quickly faded. “Thank you for defending my honor, you savage caveman.”

Rhysand’s smile was contagious as he took her hand and led her back into the bar.

He called for the bartender and ordered a round of shots.

~~~~~

“Hungry?” Azriel asked, looking in the rear view mirror of his truck.

Mila sat in the backseat, her pink Velcro shoes kicking wildly. “Yes. I want chicken nuggets.”

Azriel chuckled. “You always want chicken nuggets.”

“Yeah,” she said, as if it were obvious, “because they’re yummy.”

“Alright,” he said, “but then we have to go home and get ready for bed. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, slowly. “When can I see Rhysie?”

Mila loved Rhysand more than anyone else. He was her man.

“Tomorrow, maybe. He’s not home tonight.”

“Is he somewhere being naughty?” she asked, giggling.

Azriel snorted. “Probably.”

He pulled into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant and parked. He unbuckled her car seat and carried her inside on his hip. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck.

After ordering, they sat near a window and ate chicken nuggets, french fries, and chocolate shakes.

“Is mama okay?” she asked, looking up at Azriel with big, brown eyes.

She may have only been four, but she saw far more than most people thought she did. Her mother, included.

Azriel set down the chicken nugget he was about to eat. “Yeah, babe. She just...she needs to get a little help, you know?”

Mila nodded, slowly, not quite understanding. “Help?”

“Yeah, from a doctor,” he explained, popping the chicken nugget into his mouth. “Here, know what you should try?”

Mila blinked. “What?”

He took the lid off her chocolate shake and dipped a french fry into it before putting it into his mouth.

Mila scrunched her nose. “Ewww!”

“You don’t know if it’s ewww until you try it,” he winked. “Try it and I’ll give you a dollar.”

Mila’s eyes grew wide. “A whole dollar?”

Azriel nodded. “Mhmm.”

“Fine,” she said, sassily, before dipping a french fry into her milkshake. She took a bite and thought about it for a second. “That’s yummy.”

“Told you so,” Azriel said, before dipping another french fry into her milkshake.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

He stuck his tongue out at her, too.

She giggled, and continued to eat.

And once she was full, Azriel carried her back to his truck and strapped her into her car seat before taking her back to his apartment. The minute he pulled in, she was already fast asleep. She’d had a big day.

He carried her up the stairs and unlocked his apartment door. After slipping off his shoes, he carried her to the back room, the guest room, which was dominantly covered in Mila’s belongings, and laid her down. He took off her shoes and covered her with a blanket.

Mila flopped around before she opened her eyes, sleepily. With a yawn, she said, “G’night, Uncle Az.”

“Goodnight, babe,” he whispered, and kissed her forehead before clicking on a batman nightlight and cracking the door behind him.

He meandered into the living room and slumped down in his chair. He grabbed the remote but didn’t turn on the t.v.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened.

And it wasn’t that he didn’t like having Mila. He loved having his niece with him, but that wasn’t the point, that wasn’t what pissed him off.

Mila was only four, living in a world she didn’t deserve. She was tossed into a situation the moment she had been born that wasn’t fair.

He fished his phone out of his pocket to see if anyone had called, but his screen was blank. Unsure of what happened with his sister after he’d picked up Mila from the police, Azriel tossed his phone on the side table, turned on the t.v., and settled back into the comfort of his lazyboy.

Mila believed that the crack of dawn was an appropriate time to wake up.

He’d better get some sleep.

~~~~~

“Mother’s tits, Feyre, your breath smells like shit.”

Rhysand had carried her up the stairs, and she had giggled in his face the entire time. By the time they were inside of their apartment and he was dropping her on the couch, he could hardly breathe from the overwhelming scent of tequila.

“Thank you for carrying me,” she sang, reaching up for him.

Rhysand shook his head, slipping off one of her sandals, then the other. “You are so fucking drunk.”

“Says the guy that gave me the shots,” she laughed, and then Rhysand turned on a light and she groaned. “Turn it off!��

Rhysand grinned. “Alright, come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”

“No,” she said, yawning, snuggling into the couch. “This is where I’m staying tonight. Right. Fuckin. Here.”

“Let’s at least brush your teeth,” Rhysand said, laughing quietly. “And take a quick shower.”

“You just wanna see me naked,” she slurred.

Rhysand lifted a brow. “If I wanted to see you naked, I would’ve made up an excuse a long time ago. Come on.”

A lie, but she cooperated, nonetheless.

She clung to him as she stumbled down the hallway. And when she fell into the little bathroom, Rhysand flicked on a light, causing her to groan again. Rhysand, paying her whininess no mind, lifted her up onto the counter top of the vanity and turned on the sink. He grabbed her toothbrush, and put toothpaste on it, before handing it to her.

She blew a raspberry at him.

Rhysand shook his head, exasperated. “Very mature. Open up.”

“No.”

“Come on, Feyre, open up.”

“Nooooo.”

“Open your fucking mouth, Feyre,” Rhysand laughed, pulling at her bottom lip.

“Fine,” she groaned, obnoxiously, and opened her mouth, wide.

Rhysand, oh so patiently, brushed her teeth for her. “Spit,” he ordered. She did so. Then, he handed her a tiny cup full of water. “Rinse.” She did that, too.

“Better?” he asked, rinsing off her toothbrush before putting it back in the holder.

When he looked back to Feyre, she was staring at him. “You’re really fucking pretty.”

Rhysand snorted. “So I’m told.”

She took his face in her hands and squeezed his cheeks. His lips popped out as he rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna start the shower. Alright?”

She shook her head. “No, not yet.”

Her voice had grown quiet, her hands on his face loosening. “Do you love me, Rhysand?”

Rhysand lifted a brow as Feyre’s hands trailed down his cheeks, his neck, to his chest, where they rested over his heart. “You know I do.”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” she slurred, eyes bright.

“You are a beautiful woman, Feyre,” Rhysand said, smiling fondly. “But you are not a pretty drunk.”

Feyre scowled. “Start my shower, peasant.”

Rhysand huffed a laugh. “Yes, my Lady.”

He turned to do just that, but she pulled him back by the neck of his shirt, until his face was only an inch from hers.

“Will you join me in the shower, Rhysie?” she crooned.

Rhysand had imagined her asking him that so many times throughout the years, but her breath did not smell like mint-coated-tequila in any of those fantasies.

“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think-”

She pressed her mouth against his, hungrily, and Rhysand froze. Her tongue slid against his, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

He pulled back, hastily, and cleared his throat. “Um….I think we should-”

Feyre leaned forward and heaved, puking violently all over Rhysand’s jeans. With nothing left to do, he sighed, gathering her hair into his hands as she cleared her stomach. “You should be happy I fucking love you, Feyre, darling.”

When she was done, her eyes were glazed over, watering, her skin pale, clammy. He waited a few minutes, holding back her hair with one hand and rubbing her knee with the other, before asking, “Done?”

Feyre groaned, eyelids growing heavy.

“Alright.” Rhysand pulled off his vomit-covered jeans and t-shirt and tossed them in the corner before taking off her tank top, tossing it in the corner, too.

“Take off your jeans, Feyre,” he ordered, gently, “unless you want to wake up smelling like shit in the morning.”

Rhysand laid a towel down on top of the mess on the floor and helped Feyre to her feet, where he unbuttoned her jeans and helped her slip them off. Her eyes were already fluttered shut as she sat back on the counter top in her bra and panties. Rhysand covered a washcloth in warm water and soap before cleaning around her mouth and down her chest, her abdomen, and her thighs - everywhere the vomit had landed. When he was done, he gathered her up into his arms, and carried her across the hall to her bedroom.

She was already sound asleep when he laid her down and tucked her in.

After shutting her door, in nothing but his boxer-briefs, Rhysand cleaned the vomit off the bathroom tile and vanity before gathering all the dirty shit and putting it into the washing machine. After taking a quick shower himself, he stumbled into his bedroom and fell onto his bed, face first, moaning as his bruise, where he’d been punched, made contact with his pillow.

It had been a hell of a night.

~~~~~

Nesta stared at the opposite side of the bathroom stall as Tomas thrust himself into her. She tried to fake the noises of pleasure at first, but she eventually gave up as the boredom grew.

Tomas leaned back, eventually, breathing heavily as he took in her expression. “You’re not enjoying this at all, are you?”

Nesta sighed. “I’ve fucked you too many times. Now, it just feels forced and never lasts long enough.”

His eyes narrowed and he stepped back, dropping his grip on her thighs.

She reached for her jeans on the dingy floor as he zipped up his pants and fled from the stall.

“Seriously?” Nesta called after him. “Quit acting like an ass.”

Her jeans were halfway up her legs when he left, leaving her alone in the restroom.

Once she was dressed, she left the stall and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was still looking good, hanging loosely behind her in curls. Her makeup was hardly smudged.

Pulling out a cigarette and her lighter, Nesta left the restroom and fell back into the loud, busy club. She pushed her way through the crowd until she was out the front door, into the parking lot.

When she got to their parking spot, Tomas’ car was gone.

“Fuck!” she yelled, looking around, exasperated, but he was already gone. “Fucking prick.”

She took a drag of her cigarette before running a hand anxiously through her hair.

It was dark.

She lived five blocks away.

It was not the best part of town.

She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, but it was dead. Of course.

With a sigh, and a hope that no one jumped her, Nesta began to walk back home.

Nesta liked the dark, the quiet. She liked being alone.

The only reason she had kept Tomas around for so long was because he was convenient. He bought her whatever she wanted and was able to find the shit that was hard to find. Now, she found all that a ridiculous reason to keep him around.

She dented his pride, and he had abandoned her at two in the morning.

Nesta walked quickly, looking around her often. She finished her cigarette and tossed it in the bushes, crossing her arms across her chest.

Behind her, a black truck turned the corner, driving slowly in her direction.

Nesta’s heart began beating fast, her pace picking up, just a little bit. She didn’t want them to know she was afraid, didn’t want them to think she was vulnerable.

Hopefully, soon, they would pass her and let her carry on with her walk.

She had four blocks to go.

The truck did not speed up. In fact, as the truck got closer to her, it slowed down more.

She walked even faster, her feet starting to hurt against the pavement in her thin flip-flops. But before she could panic any further, the truck was beside her, and the window was rolling down. “Need a ride?”

She didn’t look their way. She kept her eyes forward, walking quickly, chin held high.

“Nesta!”

Her eyes shot to the road, where Cassian was looking at her with a curious expression.

Nesta stopped.

Cassian stepped on the brakes.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked, arms crossed. “You can’t just drive behind a woman in the middle of the night on an abandoned street!”

Cassian raised a thick eyebrow. “Well, I thought it was you from back there, but I just wanted to be sure. Stopping for a random woman would have been creepy.”

Nesta scoffed. “We don’t know each other. To you, I am a random woman.”

“True,” Cassian agreed. “But we’re neighbors and I’m friends with your sister. So. Get in.”

“No, thanks,” Nesta murmured, pulling another cigarette out of her pocket. “I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Cassian said, following her, slowly, as she started to walk, again. “Get in the car. It’s not safe for you to be walking out here alone and you know it.”

“If I get in the fucking truck will you shut up and let me ride in silence?” she asked, turning to meet him, once more.

Cassian took a few seconds to debate it. “Yeah, alright.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as she went to the truck, but when she pulled on the handle, it was locked. “What the fuck?” she looked at him, annoyed.

“Cigarette stays out,” he said.

Nesta’s lips formed a straight line. “Seriously?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, mocking her tone. “This is a new truck, it won’t be smelling like shit. Put it out.”

Nesta scowled, but did as she was told before opening up the door, this time unlocked, and climbing inside.

Cassian didn’t move.

Nesta sighed. “What now?”

“Seat belt,” he said, and she swore she saw humor dancing in those damned hazel eyes.

She furiously strapped on her seat belt before grinding out, “There.”

“Good,” Cassian grinned, putting his truck in drive. “Do I want to know why you were walking down the street alone?”

“You probably do,” Nesta said, “but I won’t tell you.”

Cassian chuckled. “Fair enough.”

They rode the next few blocks in silence, Nesta staring at the dashboard, Cassian sneaking glances at her, every so often.

“I think you think it’s charming when you look at me like that, but it's not, and I prefer you cut it out,” she mumbled, as they pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex.

Cassian shook his head. “I think you think people are looking at you when they’re not.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“Insufferable,” he repeated. “Nice word. What others would you use to describe me?”

He parked the car and she got out.

She was halfway up the first flight of stairs before he called from behind her, “A thank you would be nice!”

Her middle finger greeted him as he started at the stairs behind her.

“You’re welcome,” he purred.

Nesta wanted so badly to come back with a retort, to turn around and snap at him, but she didn’t. She was tired. Exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.

All she wanted was to go to bed.

After reaching her apartment and digging her key out of her pocket, she opened the door and shut herself inside. A moment later she could hear Cassian’s door open and close behind him.

~~~~~

Elain should have been sleeping along with the rest of the city but she had too much energy.

She played her music, softly, careful not to wake her dad.

She did pushups for a minute.

Looked in the mirror.

Did sit ups for a minute.

Looked in the mirror.

Mountain climbers.

Looked in the mirror.

Leg extensions.

Looked in the mirror.

Flutter kicks…

She was breathing hard nearly an hour after she had begun, sweat glistening on her skin.

She stripped off her clothes and after one more glance in her bedroom mirror, she got into the shower. She let the cool water wash over her skin, let it wash away the impurities - the sweat, the stench, the thoughts she couldn’t shake.

She found her mind wandering all day, those thoughts running wild, after she had seen Graysen’s instagram.

She was so beautiful, his girlfriend. Long, auburn hair, striking blue eyes.

She was who he preferred.

Even when they were together, she was who he preferred. There was a time Graysen had loved her, she knew that, but that didn’t make it any easier when Elain got home early from work one day and saw her little blue car parked in their driveway.

Elain and Graysen were to be married in two months.

But they would not be getting married anymore.

Elain no longer warmed his bed, Elain no longer woke up next to him every morning, Elain no longer kissed him goodbye as they both left their home to go to work, to make money, to save for their future.

Graysen no longer loved her. Graysen no longer found her worthy. Graysen had grown bored with her, bored with the perfect, sweet, Elain Archeron.

The image still burned in her mind.

She had opened their front door and saw her shoes lying by the welcome mat. Noises of pleasure flooded out of the bedroom, from the bed where Elain and Graysen slept every night.

Elain would never sleep another night with Graysen in that bed again.

She and Graysen would never share anything again.

Not even the endless void that he’d created in the depths of her soul, nor the voice of insecurity, the voice that sounded a hell of a lot like his, that never left the back of her mind.

Elain hated him.

Elain loved him.

Elain hated that her love for him wouldn’t fade, hated that she still felt the pain so strongly, too strongly, as if it had just happened yesterday.

As the water grew colder, Elain sunk down into the tub and closed her eyes.

Perhaps she would sleep there tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

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@the-dark-swan

@girlgotattitude448

Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#fanfic #fanfiction #tacmc AITA #nessian #feysand #elriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #sjm #modern au

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