#A Rose and Its Thorns

[acomaflove]

Azriel: *sneezes and shadows come out of his nose*

Rhysand:

Amren:

Morrigan:

Cassian:

Feyre:

Nesta: ………So we are all just going to ignore that?

Cassian: Oh my bad; bless you, Azriel.

Nesta: THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT

[stormcallart]

"Feyre darling~"

[the-darkestminds]

Say what you want about ACOFAS but do not sleep on this scene…☝️😩😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨🥵

[arson-09]

Tamlin is actually such an underrated character in acotar. Because of feyres very biased narrative she forces readers to ignore the complexity of his character and man. its sad

Tamlin is a character who is genuinely GOOD at his core. He changed so much of the spring court for good, eliminating slavery within the spring lands and mortals having more protection. Hes a morally good character that made a few mistakes and is boiled down to just those mistakes. Locking feyre in the house and the magical/emotional blow up, which are both pretty decent fuck ups (i dont think siding with hybern fully counts as he was a double agent all along and tamlin was decently justified in thinking feyre was being kept against her will. lets be fr here) and even after he’s extremely fucked over by the nightcourt, his lands and court burned to shit, he still saves rhysand. Saves rhysand and tells feyre to be happy, even when he has every reason to NOT do that!

Hes a character that clearly holds himself to a higher standard. throughout acotar he puts lucien and feyres safety above his own, even sending feyre away when she was the only one who could save him. Even though what he did to her wasnt great its not completely irredeemable, rhysand did much worse things to feyre and other people but hes living his best life while Tamlin seems to find himself unworthy of being a person (acosf wheres hes been in beast form for roughly over two years) hes a perfectionist who now doesnt even think he deserves anyone because he accidentally hurt the people he loves most.

Sjm accidentally created a beautifully rich and morally righteous character who is so extremely fucked by the narrative. Which doesnt even work half the time as sjm cant seemingly commit to making him a full villain (seemingly by accident again she gave him quite a reasonable explanation to everything he did ‘wrong’ but still chooses to make him a punching bag)

If Tamlin was genuinely a morally evil character he wouldnt have NEARLY the amount of fans as he does. Hes a character that requires the minimum amount of media literacy and comprehension to understand and i LOVE him.

[tubbytarchia]

@mcyt-yuri-week Day 5, Rose/Thorns I never stop thinking about SL episode 8 never ever

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 2 - Shadow Stalker & Dark Thorn

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

When Azriel cums, darkness engulfs

When Eris finishes, fire sparks

I live in the space between

[bookish-phile]

(reblog for a bigger sample <3!)

[illyrianbitch]

Beneath the Ashes of Our Broken Oaths

Pairing: Morrigan's Sister!Reader x Azriel

Summary: After abandoning the refuge of Velaris, you, Morrigan’s twin sister, returned to the forsaken Hewn City fueled by a vision for a better future. Now, your estranged family seeks your help when rumors of rebellion spread at a time of utmost inconvenience. Torn between your anger and a desire to protect the good, you begrudgingly agree and are forced to face memories of a past life and the unsettling presence of Azriel– the first man you ever loved.

Warnings: ANGST, Helion being compassionate and its sexy, Inner Circle slander (sorry feyre baby), Y/N is kind of a bitch (but its warranted and a slay), family trauma.

Word Count: 2.9k

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

It was Helion, the High Lord of Day, who had seen the flicker of hope in your eyes. A man of discerning wisdom, he recognized your yearnings of a better world. He knew you, he knew your heart, and he trusted your vision— with the promise of your support shall he need it. You knew that your support, in the grand scheme of things, meant nothing to Helion. He had always held a heart of gold, of understanding, and he would have helped you without anything in return. But you had insisted, declared that you needed to give him something to thank him. Your support, he had agreed on. It was all you had left, anyway. 

Now, you stood before him, pleading. Your chest was tight and a calm panic filled your veins. You needed to act. You needed to keep things in place.

"Helion, please," your voice, normally composed, now carried a tremor, a plea that hung in the air, reeking of desperation. Low light poured through stained glass windows as the sun slowly set, painting a kaleidoscope of muted colors on the marble floors.

His eyes, usually filled with warmth, held a regretful sympathy. 

"Y/N, I wish I could," He replied, his voice caressing the air,  "But with the current state of affairs and your father’s growing paranoia, it's too risky. I can't jeopardize my people. My help is needed elsewhere."

Approaching you, he extended a large hand, gently cupping your chin, his touch reassuring and pained. "Give me some time, sweetheart."

Desperation deepened in your eyes, and the intensity of your plea swelled. Aching with fear and worry, your gaze remained locked on his. "I don’t have time. Hewn City corrupts swiftly. You know this.”

Helion sighed, a sound filled with a blend of both compassion and helplessness. "Perhaps you should reach out to Rhysand. His influence might help, now more than ever."

Yor felt a bitterness surface, like bile rising through your throat. A soft scoff left your mouth as you roughly pulled Helion’s hand away from your chin, withdrawing from his touch in offense. "Rhys had a chance to help. He didn’t. He couldn’t care less. I won’t go crawling to him."

Helion's gaze softened, a tender response to your rough tone. He let out a sigh and pulled you close to him once more. His touch sent a wave of comfort through you, something that happened often when you visited him to discuss these things. Helion was a man who loved physical connection— you didn’t mind it. It made you feel seen, understood. Now, you craved that feeling more than ever.

 "I don’t understand this contempt you hold. Surely they will want to help you. They miss you."

You rolled your eyes at this. Of course Helion would think so. As much as you trusted him and his admiration for you, he always did love your family. Your sister and your cousin would always be in your life, tied to you in one way or another. Frustration tinged your voice. 

"It's too late. Going to Rhysand now would draw unwanted attention or, worse, he’d halt my efforts because of some perceived danger."

There was a moment of silence, and your eyes bounced around the room, searching for somewhere to land that wasn’t Helion's burning gaze. Once more, he moved a hand to gently cradle your face.

"You cannot foresee every outcome. You're not a mind reader, Y/N."

A bitter laugh escaped you, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "I might as well be when it comes to family."

 "You've accomplished so much. Allow yourself a reprieve. You can't bear the weight of the innocents lives in Hewn City alone."

You blinked away the tears that welled in your eyes as you admitted, "I can't afford to stop. If I do, they'll think I've given up." 

"No," Helion asserted, his voice unwavering. "Your dedication is commendable, but you need to care for yourself. Let me help you."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at him, his brows furrowed slightly and a sad smile on his face. He moved his hand once more, gently tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. Then, he ran a finger along it, a soft caress carried by a weight of understanding. You shuddered at the lightness of his touch. 

 "Stay, Y/N,” He suggested, his voice smooth and low, “Let me be a distraction. You take care of others; let someone take care of you."

You leaned slightly into his caress, feeling the warmth radiating from his hand. A fleeting sense of comfort teased at the edges of your weary soul. Yet, reality swiftly reasserted its grasp, and you gently withdrew, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

"I appreciate the offer," you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. Your hand delicately intercepted his, guiding it away from your cheek. "But I can't afford the luxury of distraction right now."

He acknowledged your decision with a small nod. 

“I wish I could do more for you."

A tender smile found its way to your lips and you held his gaze for a fleeting moment of gratitude.

“I know.” You replied before you winnowed away, leaving the luminous embrace of the Day Court behind.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You were on edge. You had been for the last few weeks. Now, after failing to convince Helion, you could feel it catching up to you, a dark hole forming in the pit of your stomach. It felt like you were being swallowed alive, eaten by your own anxieties and fear. But you didn’t have time for this. You couldn’t risk falling apart, becoming vulnerable. No, not at a time like this.

You had mastered the art of drowning your thoughts, of discarding the weight that threatened to pull you under. Tonight would be no different. The impending storm would be weathered, as it always had been. You would begin to drink your worries away, give them time to manifest, and then shove them away into the crawlspace of your mind, free to collect dust and rot away.

You moved toward a small table where a simple platter of dark amber liquid awaited. Your fingers tightened around a small crystal glass as you poured. As the first sip touched your lips, you felt the familiar burn, a welcomed distraction. The amber liquid offered solace, if only for a fleeting moment.

And then, you stilled. The creak of the floorboards behind you announced their presence, and you felt it—a pricking at the base of your neck, the subtle disturbance of the air as someone entered, no, appeared. Your body tensed instinctively, shoulders rigid, as you ceased your movements. You took a moment to compose yourself, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply-- a futile attempt to ground yourself.

You downed the drink, the warmth spreading through your veins, and set your glass down, a definitive thud echoing in the silence as it met the table. You turned around slowly, the ever-present undercurrent of anxiety beneath your skin momentarily masked by a face of composure. The simple décor of your home surrounded you—the tattered tapestries, broken furniture—all a testament to a life you had built in the aftermath of your return. One that lacked the color that you once held.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Your voice, laced with both mockery and a hint of something darker, hung in the air.

In front of you, Rhysand stood tall and proud, a figure of authority. His eyes, once familiar and comforting, now held a look determination. His gaze held yours strongly, and for a swift moment, you saw them soften. But the tenderness quickly dissipated, his eyes narrowing with a slight tilt of his head. You ran your eyes along his face, then down his form, taking in the detailed and intricate patterns of his clothing— an embodiment of Night Court royalty. Then, you looked at him again, your jaw clenching. It had been a while since you looked into his eyes, a violet color deeply embedded into your mind. For a moment, his presence consumed your thoughts, distracting you from the other man that you felt in your home.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see the dark figure stepping out from the corners of your room. A darkness licked at your skin.

"Hello, Azriel," you acknowledged him, your eyes remaining fixed on Rhysand.

Azriel's presence was a dark whisper. The edges of your room seemed to blur with shadows as he stood there, a silent observer.

"I’ve come to request your help," Rhysand's voice cut through the stillness, his words carrying the weight of urgency.

Your response was swift, dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, that's rich."

The corners of the room seemed to darken further as Rhysand's frustration manifested in the clenching of his jaw. The subtle play of shadows accentuated the lines on his face, revealing the strain of a desperate plea.

"Please hear me out."

You shook your head. They shouldn’t be here. This was risky, dangerous. You needed them to leave. They needed to disappear, to let you go and never find you again. That was the only way you would be able to survive.

But every fiber in your being was screaming to do the opposite, to embrace your cousin and explain to him, tell him everything. You wanted to get on your knees and beg for the kindness he always showed you, to ask him about your sister. For him to tell you about his life, his love, his child. But you couldn’t. And from inside you, your heart tugged you to Azriel, his stoic form. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to catch his gaze. It was all so wrong. This disconnect, this anger you felt for them, for your situation, for yourself… it was eating you up. But this wasn't the time. So you pulled your thoughts together and focused on the one thing that had never let you down: your fire.

You reminded yourself of the resentment you held, deep down. Reminded yourself of how they had failed you, separated themselves from you, your vision, and the suffering of the good people here, in Hewn City— your city. Rhysand's city.

Ignoring his original words, you looked at Rhysand with the hint of a wicked grin on your face.

"Where’s your child bride? I heard she’s reading at the same level as your babe. You must be overjoyed."

Rhysand's expression tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface. The mention of his mate touched a clear nerve, and for a brief moment, you reveled in the discomfort you had caused. It was a twisted satisfaction, a way to regain some sliver of control in this unexpected encounter.

His temper flared, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability replaced by a presence of anger that you knew all too well. He bit down on his frustration, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure. But you pressed on.

“I’m only kidding, take a joke, Rhysand. 500 years and you still have the emotional regulation of a teenager. Nice to see some things don’t change."

Rhysand's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and confusion, observing you and your wall of icy nonchalance. His name sounded foreign on your lips, spoken with such malice and distaste. Even the last time he had seen you, during a bloody war against Hybern, you had not been so venomous. This was a fact you both thought of as you stood here, now, in front of one another again. You moved gracefully through the room, ignoring their presence, and opened a small box that sat on your table. The delicate aroma of sugar wafted through the air. You took a seat.

Azriel and Rhysand exchanged glances. Your fingers idly played with the box, an ornate creation that held delicate, candied treats. With an almost casual indifference, you brought one of the sweet confections to your mouth, savoring the taste as if the weight of their presence meant nothing to you. You could feel the tension building in the atmosphere, heightened by their growing sense of agitation and frustration. It radiated off of them like heat. You welcomed it with open arms, like a freezing child in the cold.

"These are the loveliest desserts,” You explained, bringing the candy close to your face with an examining eye, “Hard to come across here. But I know a guy.”

“Want one?" you offered, dropping your candy back into the box and extending it toward Azriel, whose stoic expression remained unchanged.

"What? Doggy can’t take a treat?" You taunted with a measured smile. You didn’t miss the slight flare of his nostrils, or the way his shadows began to snake up his arms, angry and riled up.

A tense silence lingered as Azriel remained perfectly unmoving, his eyes holding a depth of attentiveness that made you uncomfortable. But the discomfort within you sought distraction, and you continued with your mockery. You waved your hands in the air as a dismissal.

"Bah, you guys are no fun."

The room felt charged as you baited them, your attempts to deflect the gravity of their visit becoming slowly evident in every casual gesture.

Rhysand's frustration reached a boiling point, and he took a step forward, shifting the conversation.

"We didn't come here for sweets and jests. We came for you."

You chuckled, a sound that held a bitter edge. "Me? You must be desperate, Rhysand."

A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes, swiftly replaced by a steely resolve. "There are rumors of rebellion here,” He took a pause, glancing around the room as if he was contemplating continuing. He spoke again, “But, I'm dealing with a larger threat that has me on the defense. I cannot afford an uprising."

Your laughter cut through the air like a blade. "Is the idea of civil unrest among your people an inconvenience? My, what an issue, must be terrible."

Rhysand's patience waned, his features hardening. "Stop this, Y/N. We need your help to prevent a disaster."

You leaned back against your furniture, your eyes narrowing as you regarded him with a chilling indifference. "I've heard nothing about any unrest. You've wasted a trip."

Rhysand's gaze bore into yours, an unspoken challenge. "Azriel has been in Hewn City, gathering information. He's heard the rumors. I know you're lying."

In that moment, a silent battle waged within you. The desire to help, to make a difference, warred against the fear of exposing yourself to the dangers lurking beyond your sanctuary. The memories of the past, the reasons you returned, echoed in your mind. You wanted to help, but you knew their presence could unravel the delicate life you had crafted.

Rhysand's voice softened, a genuine plea beneath the layers of frustration. "Y/N, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that?"

Then, his eyes softened, sensing a crack in your facade. Inner turmoil clouded your eyes as you locked gazes with him. The conflict within you played out in the subtle tremor of your fingers, a telltale sign of something bubbling beneath your icy exterior. But as quickly as it manifested, you shut it down, fast enough to resolve Rhys of his attentive eyes. He swallowed and fixed his composure.

"Azriel has gained information that it's not just a rise against me. There are whispers of a rebellion against Keir himself. I need you to listen for information from your father."

Your father. A wave of nausea rippled throughout your body and you clenched your jaw in response. The title sounded strange coming from Rhysand, a stark reminder of your place here, of your place in his family. No, no. You thought. I will not let them see me falter.

Rhysand continued, "Azriel has gathered intelligence, but we need someone on the inside. We need you."

A cynical smile now played on your lips as you taunted them, "Maybe it's time for a change. The mighty High Lord struggling to keep control – how novel."

Azriel, who had maintained a cold silence until now, spoke up for the first time, taking a heavy step forward towards where you sat.

"We both know you do not mean that."

You turned your gaze to him, eyes dark. "And what do you know about what I mean, Azriel? You don't know anything about me."

Rhysand put a hand out in front of Azriel’s form, biting back his retort. The room hung heavy as you finally declared, "You've overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to leave."

Rhysand's eyes met yours with a determined glint.

"I will be back. Family does not give up."

His words pulled out a surge of anger bubbling within you. Family? Without a second thought, you stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. "Family, huh?" Your voice dripped with bitterness, and you moved toward him, anger etched on your face.

But before you could reach him, Rhysand winnowed away with a controlled fury, leaving Azriel lingering.

Azriel stood still, his eyes slightly narrowed, his brows furrowed at you. You met his gaze and felt a wave of guilt through your body, filling the hole where your fury once was a second before. If you didn’t know any better, it seemed as if Azriel was….. Disappointed? Hurt? But you stabilized yourself, pushing the observation away. Your anger, raw and unfiltered, had an intensity that took even him by surprise. He held your gaze. Then, like a wisp of darkness, he too disappeared, leaving you alone with the remnants of unresolved tension and the taste of bittersweet candied treats lingering in the air.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

a/n: hello hello!! welcome to my lil new fic!! im new here and i have no idea what im doing but i hope at least one person enjoys what has become my creative fictional baby. when i tell you this story has a place in my HEART....y/n here is multilayered and complex and flawed but that is why i love her!! serving cunt 24/7!!!

tumblr scares me so any feedback is so very loved and any advice is great too!! mwuah

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom lore for the Blood Blossom Au

Blood Blossoms -- otherwise scientifically known as rosa hemato -- are an extinct genus of flower from the rosaceae family that disappeared from the mortal plane in the late 1600s due to over-foraging from settlers during the Witch Trials. Prior to their extinction, they were already a rare breed of rose because of an evolutionary trait resulting in their main source of energy being ambient ectoplasm.

This means that blood blossoms only grow in areas where there are unusual levels of ectoplasm present. Regardless, however, only one or two bushes of blood blossoms can grow, as too many of them results in the ectoplasm being sucked out with no room of replenishing back to its original levels. This kills the blood blossoms in return. So a balance has to be met.

Blood blossoms have a mildly unsettling appearance. Their namesake, "blood blossom", comes from the blood red appearance of their petals, which start out as a vibrant red but steadily grows darker with age similar to blood drying on a page. Their stems, leaves, and thorns are, rather than green, a rich black-purple color. The center where the pistil sits is the typical yellow, however, it takes on the appearance of a yellow eye peering through the petals.

Blood blossoms emit a sweet, fragrant scent that allows them to not only attract bees, but also break down ectoplasm for consumption. See, what it does is that it discharges some of its pollen into the air, which then "latches on" to ecto. As the pollen begins to float down to the ground, the ectoplasm then sinks into the soil for the blood blossom to then draw into its roots. It gives the ectoplasm a physical body to latch onto, which it then uses to consume it.

Despite having a symbiotic relationship with ambient ectoplasm in it's natural habitat, the interactions it has with ghosts is an entirely different story. To ghosts, Blood Blossoms are terrifying, opportunistic parasitoids capable of consuming spirits whole if given the chance. Ghosts give off significantly more ectoplasm and when the blood blossoms sense that, they emit more pollen in order to consume it. Which is where the whole "blood blossoms are natural ghost shields" thing comes from.

Their sweet scents and vibrant colors made them popular upon discovery for perfumes and dyes, and when eaten taste sweet and slightly bitter, almost irony. Which is another reason for their namesake. During the Salem Witch Trials it was theorized that blood blossoms could expel the sins/demons from someone's body when consumed and prevent possession, or when surrounded by the roses, would trap the demons inside it's host body which would then be burned to banish it back to Hell along with the soul of it's host.

Which made them incredibly popular in executions, exorcisms, and Mass.

They could grow anywhere in the world so long as there was an adequate amount of ecto present.

Surprisingly enough, they do not commonly grow in or around gravesites due to a competitor flower nicknamed "rest in peace lilies" which, despite their name, are actually from the asparagaceae family and have more in common with bluebells. They're more modernly known as everlast bells. Ghosts prefer them over blood blossoms because they have a similar effect on ghosts as poppies do on the living where it sends them into a restful slumber. Hence their nickname "rest in peace lilies". The dead loove them.

In the Ghost Zone, their effects on the dead are far more potent than when they grew in the living realm due to the excessive amount of ectoplasm. They also grow much faster, so ghosts treat their appearances on islands similar to how one treats mint or kudzhu after finding it growing in their lawn: with extreme prejudice. And a lot of terror. Ghosts tend to rip them out when the flowers are not in bloom, or burn them when they are.

Their appearances in the Zone aren't much different than what they looked like in the living realm, with only a few mild changes like their thorns being sharper, their petals being more angular, and their eye-like center actually looking more like an eye. It's theorized that the Infinite Realm versions of blood blossoms gained very mild sentience, just enough that it almost feels like their eyes follow you when you pass by them, like a painting. Nobody is willing to test that theory.

To a ghost, getting caught in the hooks of a blood blossom means a slow, agonizing death akin to thousands of needle-sized mouths eating you all at once. The pollen doesn't stop until the ectoplasm is all broken down. Blood blossoms in the Ghost Zone are very much capable of eradicating a ghost entirely, core and all, with no chance of return. No passing go, no reconstruction, just complete oblivion.

Danny, prior to his poisoning, had severe allergic reactions when in physical contact with blood blossom in his human form. Rashes, blistering, hives wherever the blossom had physical contact with, inflammation, you name it. Luckily that hadn't been something he needed to worry about since they're, well, extinct.

[acomaflove]

Feyre: what do you commonly use your magic for besides manipulating shadows?

Azriel: controlling my allergies.

Feyre:

Feyre:

Feyre: what.

Azriel: I can’t be a spymaster with the sniffles.

[wallflowers-in-the-wind]

Reading Tamlin not holding back on his anger toward Feyre during the High Lord meeting has to be the best form of revenge he can do without causing another full out war. And Feyre and Rhysand deserved every bit of criticism and scathing remark against them.

I still can’t believe people defend Feyre’s actions during the meeting and against the Spring Court. Her problem was with Tamlin. Not the entire court who she previously kept insisting she wanted to help, whose lives she destroyed. She may have sworn to destroy everything Tamlin loves over actions that weren’t even his fault but punishing innocents out of anger is uncalled for.

From Tamlin’s perspective Feyre was SA and held captive by Rhysand. When she was finally home he apologized for what he did wrong and promised to be better and gave her space. He didn’t tell her about his secret about being a spy against Hyburn because he didn’t want to overwhelm her and still had some doubt that she truly was being manipulated and wanted to come back. Yet he still gave her a chance only for the woman he loved to manipulate him and destroy everyone and everything out of some form of sick revenge.

Even his best friend Lucien left him and while some of the reason’s were caused by Tamlin it was due to manipulation by Feyre. She made Tamlin believe she was having an affair with Lucien. Something I will never forgive because Lucien was innocent and was trying to help her ungrateful ass.

Everyone turned on Tamlin yet he managed to earn their trust again after being framed as an abusive partner. A mindset Feyre implanted in everyone’s minds not to mention the mind manipulations she used on Tamlin.

Feyre better thank whatever unnamed god SJM refuses to world build that Tamlin hasn’t gotten revenge against her for everything she put him and his people through and for being merciful enough to bring Rhysand back to life for her happiness. Because if Tamlin ever did decide to get revenge people would truly understand the wrath of Spring.

[mewguca]

i tried out webfishing yesterday and played with my friends for like 5 hours straight and then i passed out god i love voice calls

im too lazy to post these separately sorry LTTM

[arson-09]

Have been seeing some discussion again about tamlin being a good High Lord or not and I just have to remind everyone of one of the best little facts from acotar I never really seen mentioned.

Acotar, Chapter 25 Page 221

She [Alis] simply said, "Summer Solstice. The main celebration used to be at the Summer Court, but... Things are different. So now we have one here, too. You're going."

"so now we have one here too..." Because of amarantha and Tamlin being just a good person he allowed anyfae from any court to come to spring. And because no one could really go back to their courts for their respective solstice celebrations, Tamlin made sure Spring Celebrated all of them

I just think that's such a cool fucking thing. That Tamlin cared for the people coming to spring for safety, and he made changes to help everyone feel comfortable and at home. He cares about the people who live in Spring, he cares so damn much :(((

[acotarmemes]

ACOTAR tweets // the high queen

icons @copypastus

[elidelochans]

Yall are delusional if you think Nesta is going to leave Cassian or the night court. First, they are mated. Not just mates. Mated. They accepted the bond, and SJM loves her Heas. It's a done deal. So either keep reading and deal with it or drop the series and find something you enjoy. Not to mention if they even could break the bond, how empty and broken Nesta would be for eternity. You really want that for her?

HOFAS happened three months after acosf. There's still alot of healing on Nesta’s part. Just because she saved Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx doesn't mean things are swept under the rug with them. Her and Cassian are both fiery and stubborn. They are going to have arguments. Honestly, it's perfectly normal for them to argue on occasion.

This. What Nesta did in HOFAS. Went beyond her and Cassian, beyond Rhys. This was a decision that Nesta should not have made herself. Yes I understand that she saw Bryce's desperation and understood her. She probably put herself in Bryces shoes for a moment. She took a chance. But it's a huge fucken chance because they don't know nor trust Bryce fully. And if she failed the whole of Prythian/Midgard is fucked. They have nothing to defend themselves against the weaponry Rigelus has. They will all die. Including Nesta Archeron.

Rhys had every right to scold her. And Her saying he's not her High Lord isn't accurate. She lives in his lands. Whether she wants to admit it or not. If any of the courts got wind of what was happening with Bryce or that Nesta gave this mask up to a stranger from another world do you know who would be faulted? Not Nesta. Rhys and Feyre would. They would suffer the consequences because Nesta falls under their lands. Their rule.

And now Cassian, who apparently had never defended Nesta once. Again. Nesta was In. The. Wrong. Her actions were beneficial and understandable but wrong. Cassian being upset and disappointed in her would absolutely make sense. Think of times in TOG, when Rowan wasn't happy with Aelin. He stood there silent until they were alone. That's more than likely what happened. Cassian didn't say his piece until everyone left. It's an argument between Nesta and Cassian and no one else.

That argument. The one that happened off page yet everyone wants to fucking crucify Cassian over cause you think you know what he said. When in reality you don't. Is wild. Three months ago, when she was with Emerie and Gwyn, they were taken and placed in the Blood Rite where he was helpless in going to her. He lost her briefly in the bog, watched her put her life at risk. How many times in acosf? He went a year or so watching Nesta absolutely ruin herself, had her lay over his body in front of Hybern, almost losing her, them, then too. Now, someone, a stranger and someone potentially dangerous, opened a portal in his living room where his mate was. And he wasn't there. All that trauma and ptsd he keeps on lock was blown wide open.

So now Cassian is a storm of emotions when he arrives home. Probably arrived mid argument between Nesta and Rhys, and the entire flight was given brief details of what's happening fueling his emotions. His fear, trauma, concern, disappointment, and anger. When Rhys leaves, Cassian and Nesta got into it. Sure he was pissed about the mask anyone would be. I would be. I personally think it goes on beyond that. Far beyond it. Nesta’s life, once again, was put a risk and no one knew what Bryce wanted. Cassian’s worst fear when the portal was open, was Bryce taking Nesta and never seeing her again. All that came out in their fight.

As readers, we know Bryce's intentions are good. They as characters who haven't been given the best view of Bryce dont believe it. Yes, I do think there needs to be more trust in Nesta. Especially where Rhys is considered. Cassian, as her mate, blowing things out of proportion is logical cause all mates have done it at some point. But yeah he needs to trust her a bit more too. He trusts her more than Rhys does that's for sure.

To play devil's advocate, I could be wrong on Cassian and Nesta and their fight. Absolutely. Im not Sarah. But neither are you who are wishing he dies, and Nesta leaves him over a risk that was never hers to make alone when it involves the whole world of Midgard.

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