#I’m sorry but SJM is dead wrong and disgusting for doing that

[thefatesofspring]

Credits to: Antoinette Cea-Lopes on TikTok

I can’t believe that this is even a conversation. Once again one half of the fandom never ceases to blow my mind with their lack of common sense & media literacy!

I don’t get how people do not understand that when Nesta adjusted her body she did not change her entire being into an Illyrian!!!

Nesta is still very much a HIGH FAE FEMALE!!! When she adjusted her body all she did was widen her hips and birthing canal so that she would not die during childbirth like Feyre almost did giving birth to a winged child!!

Feyre on the other changes her entire autonomy on a genetic/celluar level using the power she got from Tamlin…IT’s LITERALLY WHAT SHAPESHIFTING IS!!!!! It’s also the reason why Nyx is 3/4 Illyrian & a quarter high fae because FEYRE WAS FULL ILLYRIAN WHEN SHE SHIFTED!!! & Nyx’s 1/4 Illyrian counterpart comes from RHYSAND because he is 1/2 Illyrian & 1/2 high fae!!

When Feyre & Rhysand were jeeting in the sky she cosplayed as an Illyrian female by altering her entire autonomy!!

Feyre’s wings are literally MALE ILLYRIAN WINGS that she COPIED & PASTED on to herself just because she could & liked the look of them. She took one look at Azriel’s wings & said yep that’ll do.

Nesta is NOT Illyrian she is still high fae.

When Feyre shapeshifts she is no longer high fae & IS full Illyrian!

I don’t get why they can’t understand this???!!!

[theladyofdeath]

In the Bleak Midwinter {10}

A Throne of Glass Period AU: 1920s.

Summary: 2 years after Arobynn Hammel is killed by Rowan Whitethorn, Maeve has returned from Eyllwe with a vengeance. Meanwhile, Rowan is getting married, Lorcan is a father, and Lysandra is finally ready to give her heart away. There’s been peace in The Cadre’s Orynth for 2 years, but peace never lasts.

A/N: pretty sure shit’s about to go down...we’ve reached the middle of this 20 chapter fic! thank you all for reading, reblogging, liking, etc. I thrive on your comments and excitement. x

All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.

**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.

Links & masterlists:

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The Cadre - 1920s AU {TOG}

In the Bleak Midwinter {The Cadre, Part 2}

Aelin sat by Vaughan’s side, nearly nonstop, for two days. He was still breathing steadily, and the doctor said he should wake up, but it would be when he was ready, and he hadn’t yet, which only increased Aelin’s anxiety, and she could hardly take any more anxiety.

It was nearly nightfall on Saturday evening, and Aelin knew she should join the others for dinner, but she had no appetite. The others cared for Vaughan, too, of course, but Aelin was the one who felt responsible for what had happened, even though everyone had told her not to think such things.

She couldn’t help it, though.

Instead of joining the others for dinner, Aelin opened up the morning paper and began reading it aloud. Although Vaughan didn’t stir, she liked to think that he was listening and knew he liked to stay informed. Once she’d gotten through the paper, she set it on the nightstand and gave him the news from the house, too.

“Lysandra has been taking care of Aedion, and he seems to be healing quickly,” Aelin began, sitting back in her chair with her feet propped on the side of the mattress. “I think it’s because Lys is giving him extra attention, but she denies that theory.”

Vaughan’s chest slowly rose and fell.

“Speaking of lovers, Gav has been trying to avoid Natalia as much as possible, but she’s been seeking him out, I swear,” Aelin said, and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yesterday, she passed behind him and pinched his ass, and I have never seen Gavriel’s cheeks get so red.”

It was hilarious. Aelin had left Vaughan’s side to go get a glass of water before bed, and she passed by them the second it happened. Despite everything that was going on, Aelin nearly cried she was laughing so hard.

“Tomorrow is Sunday, though, so that’s shit,” Aelin went on, her smile fading. “I’m worried about them, especially since you won’t be there.” She shook her head, looking away from Vaughan to the open window and the sun sinking down beyond the distant hills. “But Ro is adamant that they must make their move, and as much as I hate it, I understand it. The quicker Maeve is defeated, the better.”

Aelin couldn’t bear losing anyone else. Elide’s death had been tragic, and although she kept telling herself that Vaughan would wake up, if this shit with Maeve continued on, they would only lose another one of their family, and that was not okay.

Aelin wished she knew where Maeve was hiding so she could put a bullet into the bitch’s head herself. 

Unfortunately, though, that was impossible, because Rowan kept her completely out of the loop, and every time she tried to talk to him about it, she was only ignored.

She loved her husband, knew he was trying to protect her and their baby, but he was being a complete dick.

With a sigh, she looked back at Vaughan, picked up the book of poetry on his nightstand, and began reading, once more.

~~~~

Lorcan kissed Lucy’s head and laid her in the crib before walking to his adjoining room. He had rocked her to sleep, like Elide used to, and was surprised when she was snoring soundly five minutes later. He gave her one last look over his shoulder before he closed the door behind him.

The second he stepped into his room, he froze.

Natalia sat on the edge of his bed, reading a book.

He lifted a brow. “Get bored of Gavriel and want to fuck me, instead?”

Natalia’s eyes narrowed as she snapped her book shut. “No. You disgust me.”

“Damn, let me down easy, okay,” he muttered, plopping down in a wooden chair. As he untied his shoes, he asked, “What’s going on with you and Gav, anyways?”

She shrugged a shoulder as she said, “He is afraid to be with me, I am too much of a woman for him to handle.”

Lorcan laughed - a true, genuine laugh. “I could see that. You need a strong man, Natalia.”

Natalia hummed her agreement before asking, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Lorcan took a moment to think about his answer. No, he wasn’t, because if he died, he’d be taken away from Lucy, leaving her orphaned. And yet, he was, because if he died, he’d be able to find his wife in the afterlife and kiss her, once again.

At last, he shrugged. “Is anyone ever really ready to walk into battle?”

Natalia’s lips thinned as she nodded. “I suppose that is a valid question.” 

Lorcan nodded, taking a bottle of half-drunk whiskey from the table beside him and popping the top. “What do you think about America?”

Natalia froze, the question catching her off guard. “America?”

“Yeah,” Lorcan said. “I’ve been thinking that after this shit with Maeve is done, we could go there.” 

Natalia hesitated. “To live there?”

Lorcan shrugged, taking a massive chug from the bottle. “Why not?”

“Because your life is here,” Natalia said, quietly. “Because your family is here.”

Lorcan set the glass bottle back on the table, a little too hard. “Elide is my family. Lucy is my family. One of them is dead, the other goes with me wherever I go.”

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Natalia’s eyes softened. “You want to run away.”

He wanted to snap, wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but she wasn’t, and she knew it, as did he. So, he shook his head, slowly, inspecting a loose floorboard a few feet away from his bare toes. “Everywhere I look, I see her. It doesn’t matter where I am, or who I’m with, everywhere I go in this fucking city, I see her.”

Natalia shifted on the edge of the bed before asking, “And that pains you?”

His eyes snapped to hers as his jaw hardened. “What the fuck do you mean? Of course it pains me! I lost my fucking wife, Natalia!”

If Natalia was surprised at his outburst, she didn’t show it. She simply said, “And I lost a friend, and Lucy lost a mother. I know that Elide was the love of your life, Lorcan, which is why it surprises me that you wish to leave this city behind, for it is one of the few things you have left of her.”

A moment of silence passed before Lorcan reached to grab the bottle, once again. As he put the cool glass to his lips, Natalia spat, “That’s right, numb your emotions with alcohol. That’ll help.”

He slowly took the bottle from his lips as he met Natalia’s cold stare. “Fuck you.”

Natalia’s shoulders tensed as she stood up, abruptly, and began to leave the room.

“Fuck,” Lorcan breathed, almost tempted to let her go, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry, okay? I just...I didn’t mean that.”

Natalia froze, but she didn’t turn around. 

“I don’t know how to handle this,” Lorcan said, his voice growing quiet. “Yeah, I drink to numb it all, because the emotions are too much to handle, you know? No, I don’t know how to keep seeing her everywhere I look and realize that she’s not actually here, that she never will be again. And yes, sometimes that makes me want to run away and start over.”

For a moment, no one spoke, no one moved, but then Natalia slowly turned around to look at Lorcan. Her jaw was still rigid, her shoulders stiff, but her eyes were no longer cold. 

In a quiet voice, she said, “Elide would not want you to run, Lorcan. She would want you to be near your family, those you love, those she loved...and she would want you to be happy.”

Lorcan quickly looked away so that she wouldn’t see how his eyes grew misty. 

“It will take time,” Natalia said, turning her back to him, once more. “But, there is no shame in mourning, Lorcan.”

She was nearly out of his room when he called, “Natalia.”

She stopped, looking over her shoulder, waiting.

“You are my family, too,” he said, just in case she wasn’t aware.

She chuckled, but her eyes held a certain fondness as she said, “As you are mine.”

~~~~~

Lysandra kissed a sleeping Aedion on the forehead as she crept out of his bedroom and headed down to the kitchen. She couldn’t sleep, but figured a shot or two of whiskey would have her out in no time.

She was just around the corner when she heard a sudden clatter and froze. It was nearing midnight, and with everything going on, Lysandra’s mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. If it wasn’t for the f-fuck! that followed, Lysandra would have hauled ass the other direction.

She rounded the corner and found Rowan, eyelids drooped and his shirt half unbuttoned, sitting on the floor, his back leaned up against the cabinets with a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.

Although he was less than ten feet away, he raised his hand high in the air and waved.

Lysandra just shook her head and crossed her arms. “What the hell are you doing, Ro?”

He blinked, then raised the nearly-empty bottle. “Drinking.”

“I see that,” Lysandra said, with a sigh. “Shouldn’t you be upstairs in bed with your wife?”

Rowan snorted. “Fuck no, she doesn’t want to be around me.”

His words were slurred, his cheeks flushed. Lysandra rubbed her temples as she said, “You’re even stupider when you’re drunk, you know that? All she wants is to be around you.”

“No, she wants to know what’s going on,” Rowan corrected, his long finger pointed in Lysandra’s direction. “She wants to be a part of this fucking war, and that’s not going to happen.” 

“She feels like you’re keeping information-.”

“Obviously I’m keep-keeping information,” he said, blinking before he took another swig from the bottle. “The more information she knows, Lys, the more dangerous it is.”

“Aelin is tough-.”

“She’s carrying my fucking child.” The words came out hurried, quiet, and when Lysandra tried to meet his gaze, he quickly looked away. “Stay out of my marriage, Lys, and I won’t ask you about Ashryver, alright? Just...Just…”

“Just,” Lysandra repeated, voice full of sarcasm and venom, then kicked his boot. “Get up.”

“No,” he said, and downed the rest of the liquid from the bottle. “I’m content where I am.”

“Fuck, you’re pathetic,” Lysandra breathed, and reached down to tug on his arm. “Come on, you idiot, tomorrow is important and you need rest.”

He sighed, loudly and dramatically. “I can’t rest, Lys, I can’t fucking sleep!”

Lysandra froze and dropped his arm as his tone rang through the quiet kitchen. “Fine. Stay here, ignore your wife, be a dick.”

Lysandra went to take a step away, but then Rowan said, quietly, “I’m not a fucking dick, I’m trying to keep you all fucking safe. Pardon me if I need a fucking drink.”

With a defeated sigh, Lysandra slowly turned back around. He was a mess, dark circles beneath his eyes, his hair sticking up wildly, his close wrinkled. “What’s going on, Ro? You’ve been in plenty of shitty situations, and you’ve always kept yourself put together. You’re a fucking mess.”

“We’re all going to die,” he said, tossing his hands into the air. “Elide….now Vaughan is unconscious, and my wife blames herself, and nothing I say fucking helps. My wife, Lys, my pregnant wife came into the house two days ago covered in fucking blood, having just shot a man, because I wasn’t there to protect her. I have tried so damn hard to protect her, and all she does is get pissed at me for it.” 

“Ro-.”

“Remember when we were kids?” Rowan asked, staring up at the ceiling. “When we were just two fucking kids, and the world wasn’t on my shoulders? When the most interesting thing to happen to us was you and me, sneaking around behind Clarisse’s back? Fuck.”

“It was never easy, Ro,” Lysandra whispered. “Our lives have never been easy.” 

“No,” he agreed, “but everyone’s fate didn’t rest in my hands, either.”

Lysandra watched him for a moment. She could see the pain, the hurt, the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was because of that look, that heartbreak, that Lysandra reached out her hands and said, as gently as possible, “Come on, Ro. Let me walk you upstairs.”

For a second, he looked like he would protest, but then he took her hands and allowed her to help him up.

Gods, he was massive. Not only did he tower over her, but as drunk as he was, a lot of his weight fell into Lysandra, who barely stayed on her own two feet. 

But his arms were around her, clearly leaning on her for support. After a few failed attempts, and a few stumbles where Rowan ended up on the ground, they finally found their groove and walked through the silent house. The stairs took the longest to conquer, but once they reached the second floor, his bedroom was only a short distance.

When they got to the door of the master bedroom, Rowan froze.

Lysandra saw the internal war going on within him, as she had a hundred times before. 

“Just go lay with her, Ro,” she whispered. “Let her know that you love her.”

He nodded, nearly ready to fall over again, but then he let go of Lysandra and let himself inside. She was left alone in the hall, hurting for her best friend and for the boy that was now a man, the boy who was tossed into a world that he didn’t choose, a world that was eating him alive, slowly, day by day, hour by hour. 

~~~~~

Maeve sat in the den of her little home on the outskirts of town, a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other. She had discarded her heels, but her stockings and day clothes remained. She longed to be in something more comfortable, but with Cairn there, that would be horribly inappropriate. 

Although late, he had come to give her his daily report, as her second.

“And is there news on Vaughan?” she asked. It had been nearly all she’d thought about in two days, after her men returned saying that the quiet one had been injured. Her man, however, had been shot by Aelin Galathynius - Maeve had been keeping her out of it, because she was pregnant, but maybe she shouldn’t have been. If Rowan’s wife was dangerous, she should be added to the list, too. 

“He still lives, as far as I know,” Cairn replied, sitting in the large armchair across from her, near the blazing fire. 

Maeve hummed, unable to decide if that was a good thing or not. She had always been fond of Vaughan. Gavriel, too. “Very well. And how are things going for tomorrow?”

“Whitethorn wants to meet in a field beyond the city limits,” Cairn said. “As far as I know, we still have more men than they do, but we have to be weary of their gun supply. We’ve been trying to get a hold of new weapons, but in this city, that’s not easy, and having anything shipped in will take too long.”

Maeve sighed, running a hand through her dark, cropped hair. “They stole them from Arobynn, you can’t steal them back?”

“You make it sound like an easy task,” Cairn crooned. 

“If I wanted easy shit done, I would do it myself,” Maeve snapped, bringing the cigarette to her lips. “If they have the guns, we need to have something over them, something in our favor aside from a few extra men.”

She stilled then, the idea popping into her mind with such clarity that she couldn’t help but laugh, softly, forcing Cairn to look at his leader as if she’d gone mad.

“I’ve got it,” she breathed. “Oh, I’ve fucking got it.”

Carin blinked. “Mind sharing or should I take a guess?”

“All in good time, my love,” she said, her grin wide, wicked as she leaned back into her chair and continued to indulge herself. “You and the boys take care of tomorrow, and I will make a plan for what comes after that.”

A cruel, wicked plan for her boys.

After all, it was what they deserved.

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

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[hireath24]

Everything wrong with ACOFAS: A Rant Part Three

Disclaimer: This is part three and will continue from pages 97 to 150. Part one can be found here. Part Two can be found here. Part four can be found here. These page numbers come from the UK paperback edition of A Court of Frost and Starlight. This is my own opinion of the book - the writing, the grammar, the characters, etc. I won’t be commenting on anything that may have been plagiarized or that has been ripped off from the history of other cultures as SJM has a tendency to do. If you disagree with my opinions, I’m sorry and hope you see the error in your ways.

Page 99: Saying ‘wine will make you feel better’ really gives off the wrong impression when this is a book targeted at young kids. I mean, it’s written for the YA genre which is typically categorized for ages 12 and up. 

Page 101: I’m so fed up of people talking badly about Nesta. Having Amren say ‘That’s if she shows up sober’ when she has walked in to see Feyre, Cassian and Azriel all drinking wine? Feyre and Cassian being ‘drunk’? Double standard! Unfair! 

Page 102: So Elain managed to become a seer with the cauldron, right? So… Are there other people - sorry, Fae - who are seers? Why does the cauldron affect people in different ways? 

Page 107: Amren was turned into a High Fae in the last book, which means that she no longer has to drink blood as food. But why did she ever have to drink blood? I don’t think it was ever explained. Why?

Page 108: Elain asks Amren if she could have taken on a male form and Amren replies with ‘Before, in my other form, I was neither. I simply was.’ Was that supposed to be SJM’s cheap shot at adding some gender diversity? Because I would have loved to see Amren be this non-binary power house asexual dragon but who has time for that but she uses she/her pronouns throughout the entire series and this is the only mention of her being able to switch between genders. 

Page 112: ‘…A few drunk revelers spotted us and fell silent. Felt Rhys’s power, perhaps my own as well, and found somewhere else to be for a while.’ Why would they want to find somewhere else to be as soon as their High Lord and High Lady show up? Why are they showing fear at the feeling of their power? Aren’t Feyre and Rhys supposed to be the good guys? This reads a lot like the people of Velaris are scared of them…

Page 115: ‘Gentlemales’ GENTLEMALES. GENTLEMALES. GENTLE FUCKING MALES?!?!?!?!

Page 116: ‘Indeed, some people were turning our way.’ This is just… This word is useless in general but in this book? I don’t think it was edited properly. 

Page 118: ‘A scene. This was about to become a scene in the worst way.’ SJM does this quite a lot in this book. These little two sentences where she says something and then expands on that something. It was used twice before already and I didn’t write it down because I thought it was just a writing choice but… it’s a poor one. It feels like a way to get the word count up somehow and, quite frankly, it’s bad writing.

  Page 118: Feyre is annoyed that Nesta is asking for her to pay her rent? How else does she suppose that Nesta should pay for her rent? She had a home that was taken from her back in the human world (that was taken from her because of Feyre, mind you) and all she asks is that Feyre pay her rent because she doesn’t have a job in fairy land? That seems pretty reasonable. Feyre shouldn’t be mad. 

Page 121: ‘But those were her deaths to claim.’ Why does everything have to be paid with death? I think it would be a lot more empowering if Mor would meet with those who wronged her, say something about them and her and just walk out of their lives entirely? SJM should start preaching forgiveness a little bit more but, hey, that’s just my opinion. Plus, this is really making Rhys seem like a bad ruler. Wanting to kill his enemies? No. 

Page 122: ‘Keir is coming soon, isn’t he.’ Yeah, no, this wasn’t edited. 

Page 122: ‘When.’ 

Page 125: ‘Az has a list of kingdoms most likely to cross the line.’ I’m wondering why the Night Court is in charge? Why does Rhysand get to decide which kingdoms and courts cross the line? Why does he get to decide where the line is? 

Page 126: As I said for Page 118, Rhysand says: ‘Tempting. So damn tempting to tell…’ See what I mean? 

Page 126: If Rhysand deals with conflict by fighting fire with fire, then his court is going to fall apart. Why is he allowed to get away with attacking Tamlin the way he did? What are the basic rules of the court - any of the courts? Surely the people wouldn’t want an insufficient ruler so do they get a say in it? WHY ARE THE HIGH LORDS ALLOWED TO ACT LIKE BLOODTHIRSTY BEASTS?! 

Page 126: ‘Too long. She’d been cooped up within the borders of this court for too long.’ Wow, once you tune into it…

Page 127: I really want to make one thing clear. Not every piece of dialogue has to have a tag attached to it. Sometimes things work much better if you just use ‘I said’ or ‘he/she/they said.’ At least then it would mean less lines such as this ‘I laughed again. ‘Certainly not Amren. Not if we want peace,’ I added.’

Page 127: Also, Rhysand ‘want(s) peace’? Bullshit. Not seven paragraphs ago did he laugh about Mor wanting Tamlin dead and a page ago he was tempted to tell ‘the High Lord of Autumn that his eldest son coveted his throne.’ Do not think for one second that Rhys is a level headed ruler. SJM has a tendency to tell us that he is rather than show it. 

Page 128: ‘…Even the wine I’d returned home to drink couldn’t dull.’ Teaching young, impressionable people that alcohol might solve some of your problems. Great. And what - Feyre can say this but Nesta can’t drink? 

Page 129: ‘Decadent - it felt decadent…’ I really wished I had never picked up on this.

Page 129: Feyre keeps complaining about the amount of work she has to do but here she is shopping with Elain? When her people are scared, heartbroken, without a home and in mourning after the war?

  Page 129: ‘So different. This place was so different…’ ON THE SAME FUCKING PAGE?!??!

Page 131: So I guess that nobody ever told SJM that a character description goes beyond eye colour, hair colour and clothes? 

Page 133: ‘I might ease that grief, make the pain less.’ Feyre’s powers allow her to do that? When, why, how and fucking what?

Page 134: ‘I was lucky - so tremendously lucky.’ 

Page 134: Rhys was dead and he was brought back to life, right? It wasn’t like with Feyre’s death where she was still slightly conscious because she could hear what was going on, no. No, with Rhysand’s death, he really was dead. But he was brought back to life and somehow… feels nothing from this? I would love to see if there are times where his body becomes slightly misty and ghostlike, if his veins turn black under his skin because they had stopped working during that brief moment of death. I would have loved to see something other than just him feeling a little bit tired!

Page 134: ‘How.’ 

Page 135: I’s very clear to me that, for whatever reason, SJM wanted Feyre to be able to paint but she has no idea how to write about it. Whilst Feyre is painting, we only read about her need to create and what the end result looks like. Even during her process we hear nothing about light and perspective and I’m not a painter but there’s a true science behind it. And where is she getting the paints from? Rhys was able to give her some with his magic but from where?

  Page 138: It disgusts me that Feyre thinks that she can solve the people of the Night Court’s problems by teaching them how to paint. These people went through a war! And before that it was Under the Mountain! Painting and creating art in general can help with recovery from mental illness and trauma and PTSD and depression and everything else, but there comes a point where therapy is needed. Memorials are needed, ceremonies are needed. How are people supposed to paint what they feel when they can’t understand what they feel? It’s bullshit and, really, quite a childish thing to even suggest. How is this a ruler? 

Page 139: Why do jigsaw puzzles exist. Why are they called jigsaw puzzles. SJM is not a high fantasy writer. 

Page 140: ‘Good thing indeed.’ You guys know how I feel about this word by now, right? 

Page 140: ‘Indeed, each seemed like a different decade.’ So the fashion changes with time, does it? Great! Tell me more. Tell me why and how and when. Also, indeed.

Page 143: ‘The females bring their jewellery. I bring my weapons.’ But Cassian is a feminist, right? Yeah, no, guys, it’s alright. He’s a feminist, it’s all fine. 

Page 146: ‘You being too drunk to climb the stairs last night.’ I’m really not okay with the amount of casual drinking in this book - and not only that but the way it’s treated. Nesta is shamed for it, Feyre mentions that even wine can’t help her, Rhys makes jokes about his friends being drunk. It sends a really bad message. 

Page 147: ‘Illyrian baby indeed.’ 

Page 147: I’ve said this before but someone should really tell SJM that every scene in a book should further the plot. This has been three pages of bickering, useless drivel about a bed being too small for Cassian and cheap jokes about alcohol. The entire thing could be cut and the story wouldn’t change. 

Page 148: ‘Indeed, as Feyre emerged from the kitchen hallway…’

Page 148: ‘Strange - so strange to see…’

Page 149: ‘Indeed.’

Page 150: ‘Mor was instantly on her feet, offering - insisting on wine.’ This is just teaching kids that you need alcohol to be able to have a good time! Which isn’t true in the slightest! And it’s wrong on so many levels - especially insisting that everyone has wine! Peer pressure?? SJM deals with sensitive issues so badly (see what I said in another post about Rhysand and sexual assault) that it’s… It’s hard. Yikes.

[moiraineswife]

What proof do we have that Eris is abusive, other than that characters have said he is? Most held a similar opinion of Rhys, what's the difference? That we have a first person narrator who is privy to the backstory of one but not the other? I'm not trying to be aggressive but I want to know your thoughts. I thought showing was more important than telling in storytelling.

Okay then, like, what ‘proof’ have we got for literally 90% of the things in this series???? Feyre is a 19 year old human girl in a world full of immortal fae. You want an eye witness account for everything in this thing, do you?

 How do I know the war happened the way they said it did? Feyre never saw it, she’s only had characters tell her about it. How do I know Rhys actually hated what he did with Amarantha and didn’t just swap sides right at the end? How do I know Rhys’ dad sucked but his mother was a good person, I’ve only heard him tell me about her, I’ve seen it. How do I know Tamlin’s brothers were awful? Never seen them either. How do I know Beron is really that awful either, I mean maybe he’s wearing a mask too and all the characters are just wrong. How do I know Mor is queer? I’ve never seen her with a girl before, I just have her word for it, maybe she lied. How do I know literally anything in this entire series because WE GET TOLD MOST THINGS NOT SHOWN THEM. 

This is what happens when you have a limited first person pov. The character HAS to get told things in order to tell us things like ???? A little bit of common sense please, do you want me to like, historically fact check Prythian for everything that Feyre tells us about it??? 

And tbh SJM has a pretty crappy habit of doing the whole ‘telling over showing’ thing anyway. See: the entirety of the Throne of Glass series, Mor’s powers in ACOTAR (she’s awesome, really, we promise, we just haven’t actually SEEN her do anything), the assertions that Rhys and co are ~the most powerful ever~ have I actually SEEN that? Can I actually see that? No.  Do I really question these things? No. Because I understand that this is the only way I can actually get some information out of this story and if I only went with what I ‘saw’ and disbelieved everything else I’d have literally nothing?? 

And when it comes to the whole Eris thing, like, dude, it’s not just a couple of characters who’ve said he’s abysmal it’s like, wait let me make a list: 

Tamlin: “His father had her put down. Executed, in front of Lucien, ashis two eldest brothers held him and made him watch.” That would be Eris. So at best you’ve got conflicting statements here. 

Lucien: “Lucien crossed his arms, leaning against the back of thecouch. “I have to agree with Cassian. Eris is a snake.” M, yes, Eris, HIS OWN BROTHER. If anyone was going to know Eris was ~not a bad person~ it’d be Lucien. Lucien who lived in that court. Who knew him. Who Eris apparently cared enough to protect/save, according to him. Eris who apparently cares so much about his mother (as we have seen Lucien does SEEN that is SEEN with our own two eyes) Why the hell would Lucien not know Eris was ‘wearing a mask’. Or maybe...Eris really does suck. 

Rhys: “Eris refused to marry her. Said she’d been sullied by abastard-born lesser faerie, and he’d now sooner fuck a sow. [...]Rhys said withsoft wrath, “Eris left her for dead in the middle of their woods.” Idgaf how he tries to spin it later, this is what happened.  

Cassian: “You’re working with that prick,” Cassian cut in, whatevercatching-up now over, apparently. He moved to Mor’s side, a hand on her back.He shook his head at Azriel and Rhys, disgust curling his lip. “You should havespiked Eris’s fucking head to the front gates.” 

Amren: “Your whole family is despicable,” Amren said to Lucien.

Mor: AtMor, whose face went white with dread. [...]Or at Eris, heirto the Autumn Court, as he strolled into the room. 

[...] 

And I had the terrible sense that Mor had gone somewhere far,far away as Eris set down his goblet and said, “You look well, Mor.”

The sight of him triggers actual real panic attacks and flashbacks that we can literally see from Feyre’s POV. Five hundred years after the fact and Mor is still traumatised enough by what he did to her to react like this even after all that time. 

Then we have Feyre’s POV herself. Through her we’ve seen Eris laughing alongside his other brothers as Lucien was tortured and nearly killed. 

“I don’t suppose your handsome brothers know, Lucien,” shepurred.

“If we did, Lady, we would be the first to tell you,” said thetallest. He was lean, well dressed, every inch of him a court-trained bastard.Probably the eldest, given the way even the ones who looked like born warriorsstared at him with deference and calculation—and fear.

 Ah, yes, that would be Eris actively promising help to Amarantha in order to damn Feyre and continue her reign. Then there’s the way Eris hunts down Lucien and Feyre in the Winter Court, actively harms them both. So that’s like...Basically every single main character in this book who’s told you Eris sucks. 

What’s the basis for believing that he doesn’t, out of interest? I mean what ‘evidence’ do you have that he is actually wearing a mask, what do you have that’s so strong it goes against the testimony of multiple characters? Oh I know! You have Eris’ word for it and that’s it. Wow. So unbiased. So convincing. Eris tells us he’s not really a bad guy and that outweighs the half a dozen people who tells us he is! That’s just. Damn. What logic. Can’t argue with that. 

Also, like, I’m sorry, but Rhys’ arc was done properly, Rhys’ redemption wasn’t a retcon it was a followed-through on plan. There were hints UtM that Rhys was not as black as he was painted (He killed the Summer Court faerie outright rather than leaving him to suffer, he repeatedly came to visit Feyre in her cell when no-one else would, he was honest with Feyre about the treatment he received at Amarantha’s hands (a vulnerability on his part), he told her why he was making her dance every night as well as the steps he put in place to protect her, he sent music to her and saved her life, he saved her life and Tamlin’s with the kiss (which Feyre is aware of), he tried to save Feyre’s life while Amarantha was torturing her) 

Rhys was a complex, morally grey character UtM and it’s possible to show a different side to him and a ‘mask’ because there were always hints of him wearing one. What if Ianthe told Feyre she was actually a secret agent working for Prythian but she was forced to act the way she did to keep her cover? What if Amarantha said she’d only dominated Prythian that way to save it from something worse and she too was wearing a mask and working for the greater good? What if Hybern said there was a bigger threat facing them and he had an ulterior motive to this war (and also, I mean, how do you really know Hybern is that awful, we’ve only ever had people tell us about him, maybe he’s misunderstood too!!!!)  @valamerys wrote this out far better than I could in this post, read it too. 

My thoughts are pretty simple, tbh: SJM decided to “”””””redeem”””””” Eris, likely to have him set-up to take over Autumn, now Lucien isn’t an option for that before what with the whole dramatic lost son of Day thing and she did a crap job of it. Like this isn’t some grand morality based character debate that’s going on here, SJM just handled this poorly. In order to make him seem not so bad she had to undo all of the canon that she’d set in place before hand and offer ‘alternative’ explanations for what happened that we’ve never heard about. 

If she planned this all beforehand, if Eris was always wearing a mask why weren’t there hints of it before? Why didn’t she have Tamlin tell Feyre he got an anonymous tip-off the day he saved Lucien’s life from his brothers (which is what Eris claimed). Why wouldn’t Lucien defend him a little, say at least he cared about their mother/was sometimes kinder to him than the others? Why wouldn’t Rhys say that in the arranged marriage that petrified Mor, Eris was as unwilling as she was, that he argued against it? (Eris would have gone through with this marriage regardless of what it did to Mor if she hadn’t slept with Cassian) Why wouldn’t Eris stay quiet UtM or not show up to watch Lucien’s torture (which he does repeatedly)? Why, why, why, why, why would SJM not do something to show us that there might be more to Eris? Unless this was just a sloppy, last minute retcon to redeem a gross, abusive character who still to do this day petrifies his victim? 

Like, if you consider showing to be of more importance than telling in stories....You’ve picked a mighty weird hill to die on here with Eris. Because this is literally the worst example of telling not showing in this entire series. There is no basis for anything that happens with Eris’ character in ACOWAR and the only thing we have stacked against the evidence of two and a half books is what Eris says and how he personally spins the story like ????

 Idk dude, we can have a convoluted, let’s bend over backwards to redeem this guy and show he was misunderstood and has been wearing a mask so convincing it’s never ever ever cracked even once this entire time, to anyone! Even people who’ve known him for centuries....Or we go with the simpler: SJM really didn’t plan or execute this story very well at all. Which seems more reasonable?