#he didn’t abuse feyre so why even say that

[darlingod]

Wait

did I rlly just read a pro t*mlin post that said what I think it just said

It’s not just the fact it’s pro t*mlin. If it was I wouldn’t gaf to post about it. It’s entirely the fact that the points/justifications they are coming up with are alarming and EGREGIOUSLY deluded

[munchkinchild]

Okay, since we're once again playing the "Nesta has to apologise for every single thing she's ever done wrong in her life" game, I thought I'd make a list of nearly everything Feyre has apologise for when it comes to Nesta;

- I'm sorry for insulting the way you looked when you were born saying you had a sneer on your face when I literally didn't exist.

"She wasn’t like Nesta, who had been born with a sneer on her face." ACOTAR CH.2

- I'm sorry for not thanking you for cooking for us every night since Elain and I didn't know how to.

"We dined on roasted venison that night." ACOTAR CH.2

"Heat. I can't cook" ACOMAF CH.54 (Proof that she can't cook)

- I'm sorry for insinuating that you are a horrible person and that our mother realised that on her death bed.

"Or maybe impending death had given her some clarity about the true nature of her children, her husband." ACOTAR CH. 1

- I'm sorry for judging you for trying to befriend the village people because your old friends ignore you.

"Since we had lost our fortune, their former friends dutifully ignored them, so my sisters paraded about as though the young peasants of the town made up a second-rate social circle." ACOTAR CH.2

- I'm sorry for making fun of you, telling you you can't and calling you a burden for wanting to marry an abuser to help the family when I literally said a few paragraphs before how much I was looking forward to you and Elain leaving so I could be alone.

"Sometimes I would even indulge in envisioning a day when my sisters were married and it was only me and Father, with enough food to go around, enough money to buy some paint, and enough time to put those colors and shapes down on paper or canvas or the cottage walls." ACOTAR CH.1

“Believe me,” I said to her, “the day you want to marry someone worthy, I’ll march up to his house and hand you over. But you’re not going to marry Tomas.” ACOTAR CH.2

"If Nesta wanted to leave, then fine. Good. I’d be one step closer to attaining that glorious, peaceful future, to attaining a quiet house and enough food and time to paint." ACOTAR CH.2

"While Tomas might want to marry you … you’re a burden.” ACOTAR CH.2

- I'm sorry for not thanking you for caring about my safety with the mercenary after you had been robbed.

“They’re dangerous,” Nesta hissed, her fingers digging into my arm as she continued to pull me from the mercenary. “Don’t go near them again.” ACOTAR CH. 3

//“Some other one who passed through. We had only a few coins, and he got mad, but—”

“Why didn’t you report him—or tell me?”

“What could you have done?” Nesta sneered. “Challenged him to a fight with your bow and arrows? And who in this sewer of a town would even care if we reported anything?”

“What about your Tomas Mandray?” I said coolly."// ACOTAR CH. 3

- I'm sorry for pushing you away when you showed concern for me sleeping with Isaac.

“I do hope you two are taking precautions.”

“It’s a bit late to pretend to care,” I said." ACOTAR CH. 3

- I'm sorry for complaining about not being included when all I do is exclude myself and judge what you bought with the tiny amount of money I gave you.

"I watched my sisters whispering and laughing together. They’d spent every copper I’d given them—on what, I didn’t know, though Elain had brought back a new chisel for our father’s wood carving." ACOTAR CH. 3

- I'm sorry for almost scolding you for not being able to afford new boots and a cloak when I literally judged you for wanting a new one

"The cloak and boots they’d whined about the night before had been too expensive. But I hadn’t scolded them for it, not when Nesta went out a second time to chop more wood without my asking." ACOTAR CH. 3

-I'm sorry for saying you wouldn't protect me and then in the same sentence say that I know it's because you know that I can fight my own battles.

"I knew—with a sudden, uncoiling clarity—that Nesta would buy Elain time to run. Not my father, whom she resented with her entire steely heart. Not me, because Nesta had always known and hated that she and I were two sides of the same coin, and that I could fight my own battles." ACOTAR CH. 4

- I'm sorry for saying that you were probably happy that I was gone and hoping I had been eaten so you could get attention when you were literally hiking alone trying to cross the wall to find me and save me.

"Nesta must be stretching her legs and smiling at the extra room. She was probably content imagining me in the belly of a faerie—probably using the news as a chance to be fussed over by the villagers." ACOTAR CH. 7

- I'm sorry for trying to put blame on you when you were telling me how you think our father forgets that he literally neglected all of us.

“There are days,” Nesta said as she paused in front of the door to her room, across from mine, “when I want to ask him if he remembers the years he almost let us starve to death.”

“You spent every copper I could get, too,” I reminded her." ACOTAR CH. 30

- I'm sorry for blaming you for not teaching me how to read and write when that was never your responsibility, I never told you and I should've been able to do that because I was 8 when we lost our fortune. I'm also sorry for assuming that your level of reading would be better than mine since I admitted that our mother neglected our schooling.

"Before our downfall, my mother had sorely neglected our education, not bothering to hire a governess. And after poverty struck and my elder sisters, who could read and write, deemed the village school beneath us, they didn’t bother to teach me. I could read enough to function—enough to form my letters, but so poorly that even signing my name was mortifying." ACOTAR CH. 13

- I'm sorry for telling Ianthe everything about you, including where you lived, which ended in her being able to kidnap you and force you into the cauldron.

"I’d told her about the village, and the house my sisters now lived in, about Isaac Hale and Tomas Mandray. I hadn’t been able to mention Clare Beddor—or what had happened to her family." ACOMAF CH. 2

- I'm sorry for telling the IC that you only cared about money and social standing.

“I was born to a wealthy merchant family, with two older sisters and parents who only cared about their money and social standing." ACOMAF CH. 16

- I'm sorry for telling Rhys that I would make you and Elain help the fae with their problems and even consider asking Rhys to force you to help the fae.

//"They might not be happy about it, but I’ll make Elain and Nesta do it.”

"I didn’t have the nerve to ask Rhys if he could simply force my family to agree to help us if they refused. I wondered if his powers would work on Nesta when even Tamlin’s glamour had failed against her steel mind."// ACOMAF CH. 19

- I'm sorry for showing up unannounced to the house with a group of dangerous men and immediately expecting you to be okay with it.

Chapter 23 of ACOMAF ~ it's too long to post.

- I'm sorry for leaving you both to clean up after I'd insulted the food and let complete strangers openly judge you.

//“Is there something wrong with our food?” she said flatly.

I made myself take another bite, each movement of my jaw an effort. “No.” I swallowed and gulped down a healthy drink of water.

“So you can’t eat normal food anymore—or are you too good for it?” A question and a challenge.

Rhys’s fork clanked on his plate. Elain made a small, distressed noise.

And though Nesta had let me use this house, though she’d tried to cross the wall for me and we’d worked out a tentative truce, the tone, the disgust and disapproval …

I laid my hand flat on the table. “I can eat, drink, fuck, and fight just as well as I did before. Better, even.”// ACOMAF CH. 24

//"Cassian’s brows rose—little amusement to be found now. “Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the woods while she did nothing. Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall.” My face began heating, and I opened my mouth. To say what, I didn’t know. “Your sister died—died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don’t expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make—and insult my people in the process.”

Nesta didn’t bat an eyelash as she studied the handsome features, the muscled torso. Then turned to me. Dismissing him entirely."// ACOMAF CH. 24

"My sisters cleaned the dishes while we worked, and had excused themselves to bed hours before, mentioning where to find our rooms." ACOMAF CH. 24

- I'm sorry for calling you a creature after Rhys insulted you and saying it's the kindest thing I could say about you.

“Nesta is a delight, by the way.”

“She’s … her own creature,” I said. It was perhaps the kindest thing I could say about her." ACOMAF CH. 24

- I'm sorry for not standing up for you when Rhys claimed that only Elain cares about me and that it's your fault for not protecting me.

"Rhys didn’t answer. Instead he said, “I didn’t think I could get through that dinner.”

“What do you mean?” He’d been rather … calm. Contained.

“Your sisters mean well, or one of them does. But seeing them, sitting at that table … I hadn’t realized it would hit me as strongly. How young you were. How they didn’t protect you.”

“I managed just fine.” ACOMAF CH. 24

- I'm sorry for saying that you let me go into the woods when you aren't my mother or responsible for me.

“But if I hadn’t gone into those woods, if they hadn’t let me go out there alone …" ACOMAF CH. 24

- I'm sorry for allowing Rhys to say he can't look at you without wanting to roar at you when he doesn't know a single thing about you.

“but it will be a long while yet before I can look at your sisters without wanting to roar at them.” ACOMAF CH. 24

- I'm sorry for comparing the anger I felt about Eris and the nail in Mor to Rhys hating you for your "failings"

"And I understood—why Rhys could not endure Nesta for more than a few moments, why he could not let go of that anger where her failings were concerned, even if I had." ACOMAF CH. 41

- I'm sorry for forcing you to help in a war you had no original part in and for telling Rhys I would make our desperation obvious so they're manipulated into helping.

//"Let me figure out how to deal with both of them, as family, but mostly as their High Lady.

Mor’s face tightened, but I shook my head. “I can—ask my sisters. See if they have any sort of power. See if they’d be willing to … talk to others about what they endured. But I won’t force them to help, if they do not wish to participate. The choice will be theirs.” I glanced at my mate—the male who had always presented me with a choice not as a gift, but as my own gods-given right. Rhys’s violet eyes flickered in acknowledgment. “But I’ll make our … desperation clear.”// ACOWAR CH. 16

- I'm sorry for repeatedly asking you to tell complete strangers what happened to you in the cauldron after you had said no several times and I'm sorry for trying to abuse my power as High Lady to manipulate you into telling your story

//“And we might need your assistance during the meeting with the High Lords—to provide testimony to other courts and allies of what Hybern is capable of. What was done to you.”

“No.”

“You don’t mind fixing the wall or going to the Court of Nightmares, but speaking to people is where you draw your line?”

Nesta’s mouth tightened. “No.”

High Lady or sister; sister or High Lady … “People’s lives might depend on your account of it. The success of this meeting with the High Lords might depend upon it.”

She gripped the arms of her chair, as if restraining herself. “Don’t talk down to me. My answer is no.”

I angled my head. “I understand that what happened to you was horrible—”

“You have no idea what it was or was not. None. And I am not going to grovel like one of those Children of the Blessed, begging High Fae who would have gladly killed me as a mortal to help us. I’m not going to tell them that story—my story.”

“The High Lords might not believe our account, which makes you a valuable witness—”

Nesta shoved her chair back, chucking her napkin on her plate, gravy soaking through the fine linen. “Then it is not my problem if you’re unreliable. I’ll help you with the wall, but I am not going to whore my story around to everyone on your behalf.”// ACOWAR CH. 18

- I'm sorry for trying to force you to train when you said multiple times you didn't want to.

"But then I said, “Why won’t you train with Cassian?”

Nesta’s spine locked up. “Why is it only Cassian that I may train with? Why not the other one?”

“Azriel?”

“Him, or the blond one who won’t shut up.”

“If you’re referring to Mor—”

“And why must I train at all? I am no warrior, nor do I desire to be.”

“It could make you strong—”

“There are many types of strength beyond the ability to wield a blade and end lives. Amren told me that yesterday.” ACOWAR CH. 24

- I'm sorry for telling you off for not being respectful to the healer when you were rightfully annoyed that no one was helping Elain, accusing you of barking at them and snapping at you to "be quiet" when you were worried.

//“How.” The word was barely more than a barked command.

I braced myself to warn Nesta to be polite, but Madja said to my sister, as if she were a small child, “The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

The healer’s tone made my sister stiffen, but Madja was already hobbling for the front door. She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.” Then she was gone.

I whirled on Nesta. “A little respect, Nesta—”

“Call another healer.”

“Not if you’re going to bark them out of the house.”

“Call another healer.”

I caught Lucien’s eye. “Would you try it?”

Nesta snarled, “Don’t you even attempt—”

“Be quiet,” I snapped.

Nesta blinked.

I bared my teeth at her. “He will try. And if he doesn’t find anything amiss, we’ll consider bringing another healer.”// ACOWAR CH. 28

- I'm sorry for winnowing away when we were going somewhere together, leaving you with a man you felt uncomfortable around and calling me doing that "sisterly payback" because you're attitude was not what I wanted it to be.

"Ready for some flying, Nes?”

“Don’t call me that.”

The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up.

I chose that moment to winnow to the skies above the House, chuckling as wind carried me through the world. Some sisterly payback, I supposed. For Nesta’s general attitude." ACOWAR CH. 30

- I'm sorry for not believing you when you told me that we weren't safe, telling you that because the others don't think anything is wrong, it's all fine.

“We need to leave,” Nesta said. “Right now.”

Every sense went on alert. “Why?”

“It feels wrong. Something feels wrong.”

I studied her, the clear sky beyond the towering, drape-framed windows. “Rhys and the others would sense it. You’re likely just picking up on all the power gathered here.”

“Something is wrong,” Nesta insisted.

“I’m not doubting you feel that way but … If none of the others are picking it up—” ACOWAR CH. 47

- I'm sorry for telling you that I would build a shower for you after you told me you can't take baths anymore and then never doing anything.

Nesta studied me for a long moment. And then she said with equal quiet, though we could all hear, “I can’t get into a bathtub anymore. I have to use buckets.”

I hadn’t known—hadn’t even thought that bathing, submerging in water …

I knew better than to touch her hand. But I said, “When we get home, we’ll install something else for you.” ACOWAR CH. 52

- I'm sorry for judging where you spend your time.

"Nesta shrugged. “She could have eaten with me here.”

“You know Elain wouldn’t feel comfortable in a place like this.”

She arched a well-groomed brow. “A place like this? What sort of place is that?” ACOFAS CH. 13

- I'm sorry for forcing you to come to a religious holiday you don't celebrate and judging the place you want to celebrate in. And then trying to use our father's death as a way to guilt you into coming.

//"Finally, my sister looked back at me. “So you’re bribing me, then?”

I didn’t flinch. “I’m seeing if you’re willing to be reasoned with. If there’s a way to make it worth your while.”

Nesta planted the tip of her pointer finger atop her stack of cards and fanned them out across the table. “It’s not even our holiday. We don’t have holidays.”

“Perhaps you should try it. You might enjoy yourself.”

“As I told Elain: you have your lives, and I have mine.”

Again, I cast a pointed glance to the tavern. “Why? Why this insistence on distancing yourself?”

She settled back in her seat, crossing her arms. “Why do I have to be a part of your merry little band?”

“You’re my sister.”

Again, that empty, cold look.

I waited.

“I’m not going to your party,” she said."//

//“Father would want you to—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence.”// ACOWAR CH. 13

- I'm sorry for withholding your rent unless you came to an event you didn't feel comfortable coming to and then when you came, ignoring you and being insulted you didn't get me a gift when I didn't get you one.

//She swigged from her glass. “It’s due next week. In case you forgot.”

I said flatly, “Come to Solstice and I’ll make sure it’s delivered.”// ACOFAS CH. 13

//"It occurred to me only when she said the words that none of the gifts in this room had Nesta’s name on them."// ACOFAS CH. 20

//"Nothing from Nesta, but I didn’t care. Not one bit."// ACOFAS CH. 20

//"Nesta watched warily from her chair, Elain’s present—her only present—in her lap."// ACOFAS CH. 20

//“Here.”

Nesta half turned toward me, focus darting to what was in my hand. The small slip of paper.

The banker’s note for her rent. And then some.

“As promised,” I said.

For a moment, I prayed she wouldn’t take it. That she would tell me to tear it up."// ACOFAS CH. 20

- I'm sorry for not saying anything when Amren openly slut shamed you.

“Though I bet it’s hard to look good,” Amren went on, “when you’re out until the darkest hours of the night, drinking yourself stupid and fucking anything that comes your way.”

Feyre whipped her head to the High Lord’s Second. Rhys seemed inclined to agree with Amren. ACOSF CH. 1

-I'm sorry for telling you that you embarrassed "my family" when you're my sister.

Do you know how embarrassed I was when we got the bill this morning and my friends—my family—had to hear all about it?”

Nesta hated that word. The term Feyre used to describe her court. As if things had been so miserable with the Archeron family that Feyre had needed to find another one." ACOSF CH. 2

- I'm sorry for painting everyone but you and then only painting you when I decided that you had earned it.

//"Every piece of art had been picked by Feyre herself, or painted by her, many of them portraits and depictions of them—her friends, her … new family.

There were none of Nesta, naturally.// ACOSF CH. 1

//"She’d joined them at the river house one night to find a mating present from Feyre waiting for her. Hanging on the wall in the grand entry.

A portrait of Nesta, holding the line at the Pass of Enalius."// ACOSF CH. 80

-I'm sorry for telling you that I would tie you up and force you to go to the House of Wind when I myself should know what it feels like to be locked up against my will.

"You’re going, even if you have to be tied up and hauled there." ACOSF CH. 2

I can go on...

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 2

Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Y/N's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison

Warnings/Other Notes - Blood, injury, and physical abuse mentioned in this part. None of it graphic but please proceed with caution; 1.3k words; Again, these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Masterlist

✨💫

Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Y/N’s story? What were those burns from? If Y/N was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.

The following morning, Feyre jolted awake to find Amren standing at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her temples as Amren made some comment about vomiting her guts up before throwing something onto the bed. “That got me out of prison. You wear it in––they can’t keep you.”

Feyre didn’t so much as move.

Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prison and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amren was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.

Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.

“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.

“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.

“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. ���I, well, the risk––”

“You don’t want to say something you don’t want the others hearing,” Rhysand warned. “Those inmates have nothing to do but listen through the earth for information to trade for food or sex or even some air.”

Feyre didn’t respond as he offered his hand to her to help with a particular steep bit of rock. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Feyre said as she took Rhysand’s hand. She referred to the inability to get out of bed after seeing the prison for the first time.

The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”

They continued their climb until the upper face of the mountain was a wall before the pair. Below, Feyre and Rhysand could see the flow of the grass. Feyre’s gaze quickly shifted to Rhys when he pulled out a sword. He noted the look on Feyre’s face.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.

“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.

“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”

“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”

“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly not.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”

There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Y/N. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”

Rhys’s face darkened, a flicker of pain in his eyes as silence stretched for a moment. “His father, a lord, had two legitimate sons who were both older than Azriel. Spoiled. Cruel. Learned traits from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the first eleven years of his life, he lived under his father’s keep. The lord’s wife saw to it that Azriel was kept in a cell with no window or light. They let him out for an hour every day…only let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He was not allowed to train, fly, or doing anything else his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do.” 

Another pause and Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left with the scars from the burns.”

The image of Y/N gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Y/N. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Y/N, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”

The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males to be able to produce another generation of warriors. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned, she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Y/N before either of them even considered it. Y/N interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”

The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Y/N’s hair came into her mind’s eye.

“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Y/N. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Y/N was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Y/N, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just clip them.”    

The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.    

“I suspect that if Y/N was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Y/N’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Y/N himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Y/N after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Y/N after the name of a bakery in Velaris she adored. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Y/N is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”   

The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Y/N’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Y/N were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 2

Sorry this update took a little longer, I had some personal stuff going on and my work schedule was pretty packed this week.

Also, this is a fix-it fic. It'll be following the events of the whole series so buckle in y'all. Also also, I shit on Tamlin a lot in these next chapters but it has a purpose I promise!

Chapter warnings: Warnings: Mention of abuse/ trauma, one comment about weight in terms of said said abuse , minor blood

WC: 9.6K

Read the previous parts here

[prologue] [chapter 1]

Next Part [here]

“Rhys is the most handsome High Lord.” I read line after line of similar words. I rolled my eyes at my brother's antics. 

“He’s sure laying it on thick.” I say as I sat down next to Feyre. She looks up from her writing and gives me a guarded laugh. 

“At least I’m entertaining.” She huffs out. 

“I can help you too, if you want. Give you a break from him.” She raises her eyebrow at me, studying me with a look that made me want to sink in on myself. 

“Why?” She asks sharply  

I willed my temper down. “Because despite what Tamlin might tell you, we’re not evil,” I spit out at her, she doesn’t flinch even slightly at the venom in my voice. “And you’re going to be here once a month for the foreseeable future. I’d like us to at least tolerate each other. Plus, it would piss off my brother.” Her eyes shone with mischief.

“You should have started with that.” And that was that. I pushed Rhys’ papers to the side and picked out a few books that had been my favorite. The plots are interesting enough to make up for the basic words used. Feyre caught on fairly easily. She could recognize almost all of the basic words but struggled to read them out loud. Not fully understanding how the sounds mashed together. We sat and read, and then when that got to be too much for her we just started talking. It was nothing deep, not really gossip either. Just casual words thrown back and forth until she asks out of the blue. “What’s the deal with Tamlin and Rhys?” I froze into stillness only fae possessed. Sensing my discomfort she backtracked. “You don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked.” Her voice held a little edge of fear. I forced my shoulders to relax. 

“No, you have every right to ask. It’s…complicated. You’re walking into centuries old distrust and unfortunately, are caught in the middle.” It wasn’t fair to her to be caught in all of this old shit. That was our baggage and I could see it was affecting her but she pressed on.

“But why do they hate each other so much?”

“I’m not the best person to ask.” She narrowed her eyes at my non-answer. I sighed. “We’ve both done some terrible things to each other's courts, the wounds run deep and that’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Why?” She would not let up. 

“Because you love Tamlin. And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to ruin whatever picture you have of him.” That really seemed to pique her curiosity. 

“You had a different experience with him?” It felt like she had punched me in the stomach. No. That’s the problem, I had the exact same experience with him and I ended up just as broken as I can see you’re becoming. 

“That’s not a story for today.” I tried to keep the shake out of my voice and maybe it was that, or the fear I know I couldn’t keep off of my face that made her drop the subject with a small, “okay”. 

It was lunch time before we decided to take a break.  “Do you want to eat here or go out with the others?” 

“Rhys will just pull me out if I don’t.” 

“My brother can fuck off. What do you want to do?” I saw a ghost of a smile twitch across her face. So we ate in the library. I left only long enough to stack up two plates full of food. Rhys took in the amount of food I was grabbing, 

“Hungry today?” I only stuck my tongue out at him and walked back out of the room. 

Rhys joined us a little after lunch. If he was surprised to still see me in here, he didn’t let it show. I didn’t leave until Feyre told me she was okay with me doing so. 

It was probably overkill to be so protective of her, Rhys was the last person who would ever try to hurt her or anything like that but she was still uneasy around him. She hid it well with the sheer disdain she showed him but I could tell from the rigidness of her shoulders and that slight edge in her voice. But there was also something else there that I couldn’t put my finger on. 

Feyre had stayed in the library long after their meeting. I found her hunched over another book, finger slowly tracing over the words. She hardly looked up as I placed another plate of food in front of her and went to walk out of the room. She didn’t call after me and I was okay with that. Scared she might start another round of questions. 

I didn’t see much of her after that. So I traveled back and forth between Velaris. Spending half my time at the manor and the other half actually doing my job as researcher. I really didn’t have to work but it gave me something to fill up my days. Before Amarantha I spent most of my time helping Cassian manage the Illyrians, from the background of course. Being the High Lords sister did not save me from their views on females. So I only showed up when necessary, Azriel and Cassian always following behind me. They learned fast enough to keep their tongues in check if they wanted to keep them in their mouths. 

Currently I was looking at old maps of Prythian. Combining through records for landscapes and t river patterns. Where the boundaries have shifted over time. And then came the daunting task of trying to pick out recountings of the old war. Figuring out who does best with what court. Prepping for the outcome we were all dreading, another war with Hybern. 

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to get from these books.” Cassian said, absently flipping through the large leather bound book I had just placed to the side. 

“Anything. Weakness, strengths, strategies, gods, anything.” I said leaning back. I knew I had to take a break, when I closed my eyes I could still see the words swirling in the blackness behind my eyelids. I took a deep breath and went to look at the giant map I had covered my desk with. Pins and markers to recount every movement during the last war. 

“Do you really think that it’s going to help?” I know he wasn’t trying to be rude. His voice was soft when he asked and my shoulders sunk in slightly. 

“I don’t know. But if it does…” He nodded in understanding. Azriel knocked lightly on the door, making both Cas and I jump. He had learned to knock now after he had to dodge out of the way of the book I had launched at him last week. I still haven't reaccustomed myself to how quiet his footsteps could be. A skill I had once prided myself on, I had even been able to pick up on those silent footsteps and find him before he wanted to be seen. 

“Just wanted to remind you two to eat.” He looked at the books strewn across the table, taking note of the one Cassian was still flipping through, playing with truly. “I know how you can get when you’re focused. Time for food.” He smiled at the shy look I gave him from being called out. Many times he had to drag me out of my office when I really got into something. His smile made me think he was remembering those times too. 

“If we go, will you two stop making eyes at each other?” Cassian spoke up, making me break away from Azriel’s stare. 

“We were not.” I responded, trying to tame the blush in my cheeks. Get it together. I told myself as I forced myself to turn to Cas. His eye roll was the only answer I got. Azriel had already started walking down the hall and I slapped Cassian on the arm.

“You’re so annoying sometimes Cas.”

“And you love me for it.” He gave me a loud, wet peck on the cheek and gave a full head-thrown-back laugh when I made a big show of wiping it off. 

I didn't return to the other house that night. Opting to stay with my friends. One of whom, Cassian, had gone into the wine cellar and returned with his arms almost full of the expensive bottles. I just laughed as he shot me a wink. I blew him a kiss back as I settled down on the couch besides Mor. 

We didn’t bother getting glasses, passing the bottles around while we talked about absolutely nothing, acting like we had during our teenage years. It was later in the night before Rhys appeared in the living room. He took one look at all of us and rolled his eyes before he swiped the bottle out of my hand and brought it to his lips. 

Mor and I were fully supporting each other's weight on the couch, I couldn’t tell who was leaning against who more but our giggles started to get louder and more frequent. She whispered to me so quietly I had to strain to hear her. “Stop staring at him.” And we fell into another fit of giggles.

She was right though, everytime Azriel talked I could feel how my eyes stayed locked on him. Reminding myself to breathe when he pulled the bottle to his lips. I pushed off of Mor and went to stand up, wobbling slightly as my feet touched the ground. Azriel made a move like he was going to catch me if I took a face first dive on the carpet but when I steadied myself, he moved back. It happened so fast I wonder if I imagined it.

“I think it’s bedtime.” I said, mouth feeling mushy as the words came out. Mor laughed again and I turned to face her and gave her a rude gesture. I offered that same hand to pull her up to her feet and she pouted before taking it. Everyone seemed to get the hint that it was late so all of us in our various drunken states started the climb up the stairs to our rooms. Good nights thrown through the hallways, Cassian all but screaming it to make sure Mor and I heard him. The sound made us flinch before laughing again as I closed the door to my room. 

---------------------

Before I knew it Feyre’s week was officially up. She had demanded to be brought back home and I fought down the biting comments I wanted to make as Rhys agreed. I stepped besides the pair and she looked over to me for a brief second before pretending that neither of us existed. 

“You don’t have to come with me. Rhys spoke into my mind and replied with a shake of my head. I could do this for Feyre. Despite every part of my body screaming at me for bringing her back to the Spring court, if she could be brave then so could I. He sighed at my stubbornness but knew that there was no changing my mind. 

We weren’t going far. Simply dropping her at the border of spring and summer and making sure she got into the manor. I could manage that. Yet as we were getting ready to winnow in, I felt my hands go clammy. I remember me saying I’ll never go back there willingly.

The smell was the first thing that hit me. The overwhelming floral scent. I could smell the roses from the outside of the manor this far away, their sheer number coating the air with a smell that threatened to suffocate me on the spot. 

“Goodbye, Feyre.” She had already started walking before he finished speaking, not sparing so much as a glance back to us. So we stood and watched her retreating figure until those wooden doors closed behind her. That was that. 

We didn’t return to Hewn city, instead winnowing outside the townhome. 

Rhys didn’t stay to greet our friends. Instead, he all but ran up the stairs to either go to his study or his room. Everyone gave me a tentative look before I shrugged and sprawled out on the couch besides Azriel. 

He didn’t try to pull away from me. Instead, he lifted his hands from their spot on his lap. His way of telling me I could place my legs up so I didn’t have to sit awkwardly to avoid his wings. I did and I ignored how happy that little gesture made me. Over the last few weeks he seemed to be able to handle being around me again.

Cassian started rapid firing questions at me. What is she like? She threw what at Rhys? Anything for scraps of what their brother's mate was actually like. Sure they had gotten the story of her trials but this was different, getting to know who she actually was. Cassian seemed pleased to know she was still just as head strong. “Maybe someone will finally humble him a little.” He chuckled 

 Rhys spoke up as he entered the room. “Who’s humbling who?” He picked at an invisible piece of lint on his shoulder. The only sign of how upset sending Feyre back had made him. 

Cassian didn’t answer but instead asked “Did she really throw a shoe at you?” He laughed when Rhys shot me a dirty look. Answering the question for him. “I want to meet her.” Cassian said and I swore he was almost pouting. 

Rhys sighed, “And have you scare her off.” Cassian looked hurt so Rhys added, “Let her get more adjusted to me before we add all of this into the mix. Besides, she cannot see Velaris. Not when…” not when she came back to Tamlin. Not when she could still spill every little secret of ours to one of our biggest enemies. 

Cas looked like he wanted to argue but only said “Princess gets to see her.” 

“Because I have a winning personality.” I smiled at him and he launched one of the small pillows from his chair at me. I managed to deflect it but as it bounced off my arm it hit Azriel square in the face. I bit down my laughter at his faux outraged face. He threw it back and before I knew it, they were yelling at each other, well Cas was yelling and Azriel was trying his hardest not to laugh.Sensing a fight was emanate, I pushed off of Azriel and spoke loudly over the two Illyrian males. 

“Outside if you’re going to fight.” Even Armen, who had stalked into the room around as Rhys laughed at that. 

Cassian turned to me, his temper still flaring. “We’re not dogs.” 

“Last time you both fought in the house, I was cleaning up glass for a week.” I raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to say otherwise. 

Azriel spared Cassian from having to respond. “C’mon.” He said, pulling Cassian to what I could only assume was the training ring. 

“I forgot how much you look like Rhys when you get bossy.” Cassian said as he was pulled from the room. And my responding gesture made the rest of the room go up in laughs. Rhys followed them out. Probably needing to get rid of his own tension and Armen had snuck back into the research room. 

I didn’t have it in me to just stare at maps all day long, regardless of knowing how much I needed to. So I just stayed in the living room, a random book from the shelf pulled onto my lap. 

Rhys came back first, hair only slightly disheveled, wings out proudly. “Once I get out of the bath, it’s time for your training.” I huffed and he could sense I was about to argue with him. “Cassian and Azriel told me you can’t use your powers.” Traitors. “So we’re going to figure out what the hel is wrong.” 

Less than an hour later I was sitting in Rhys’ study. A small candle flickering in front of me, taunting me to snuff it out. I pulled and pulled for any of the small dark tendrils to do so but found nothing. Sweat was beginning to form on my brow with how hard I was concentrating. 

Rhys huffed in frustration at my lack of progress. “It was easier teaching Feyre to read.” 

“Then by all means, go back to that. I’d love to see her throw another shoe at you.” I bit back at him and he just rolled his eyes. 

“Try again.” He went right back to business, ignoring my statement. I really did try. I Have been trying. That rich darkness that normally lingered under my skin seemed like it was hidden behind a wall. Just out of my grasp, so close I could almost taste it, almost touch it. I yelped as I reached out towards it. Pain flickering through my body as if it had burned me. Rhys’ hand on my shoulder snapped me out of whatever had happened. Sweat broke across my skin and I flinched as I felt my magic fight against the wall inside my head. 

“What’s happening?” I spoke to my brother. He just stared at me before I felt a phantom knock at my mental shields. I forced them open and almost screamed at the pain that flooded through me. I knew the moment he found it. Felt that sickening thread of magic that never released when the spell broke for the other high lords. Rhys’ presence in my head retreated and we could only look at each other. No words to be found between us. 

“Fuck.” The first word he uttered and I somehow found it in myself to laugh. 

“That bad?” 

“Good news is there’s not a physical block. No magic stopping you.” So why did he still look like death froze over? “Bad news, you’re the block.” 

“Go on?” 

“I don’t fully know but it looks like your magic is being tied up by your own magic.” 

“So, you’re saying. I’m the problem?”

“I’ve been saying that your whole life but yes, especially in this case.” He teased, trying to lighten the new tension in the air. I bite 

“Well then that simply means you’re going to be stuck with me a lot more. That or I go to Helion.” He rolled his eyes at the mention of the other high lord, one who has been trying for the last few centuries to get me into his bed. 

“Maybe.” shit. It must be serious if he’s actually willing to let Helion help. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.” He says solemnly and points back to the candle. I stare at him for a moment before sighing and trying to cover the light again. 

We sit as I try again and again and again. Nothing besides a small puff of black smoke to let us know that I’m even trying. Right as I’m about to say something I see Rhys flinch and his eyes flare with anger. Only not at me, his eyes look far away as that anger homes in on whatever must have made his shoulders tense. 

I see his eyes come back into focus and I don’t even have to ask before he’s spilling. “He hurt her.” I don’t need him to say who. “I can tell it’s nothing serious but I got nothing but pure fear from her.” Rhys had already explained that the bargain amplified the usual effects of the mating bond. That he could sometimes get whiffs of any strong emotion from Feyre. Fear, anger, mostly fear but as her nightmares have started to fade I haven't heard much about it. My stomach curls and I try to will my hands to not shake as my mind drifts to the endless possibilities of what could have happened. 

“It’ll be okay. She’s strong.” The words felt wrong in my mouth and Rhys said the very thing I had been thinking.

“You were strong.” 

“Well you can’t very well march in there and get her.” I saw the look on his face. “You can’t, we can’t. And she still doesn’t want us. Unless it feels like that first time…” He shook his head. So not as bad. Still bad, still awful enough for her to send fear down the bond but not bad enough that Rhys could only hear her screaming for someone to get her out of there. So we both let it go, ignored the thoughts that told every part of us to go help this girl from whatever Tamlin was inflicting. But even I knew that Tamlin’s anger comes from his love. That anger so wrapped in fear that something will happen that he almost wills those incidents into existence. 

We spend hours trying to break whatever block is in my head until I’m grumpy and all but biting his head off at every little comment he makes. He bites right back at me and I know there's no point in this anymore, both of us too on edge to do anything productive. Throwing his hands up in surrender he doesn’t stop me as I storm out of his study. I run head first into Azriel on my way to my room, his hands resting on my arms so I don’t topple over. 

“Training went that well.” He says with a small chuckle. The noise sends a low growl from my throat and he takes his hands off of me. “We’ll figure this out.” He says and I continue my path to my room, not staying long enough to see the concern in his eyes. 

I was still grumpy by the time that dinner rolled around but I managed to pull myself out of bed. My head is pounding from the strain and whatever Rhys did inside my mind. I throw on the first thing I find, still in my thin nightgown I pulled on after my bath, and head down to dinner. I don’t say much and not even Cassian tries to cheer me up, all he does is remind me that I’m joining them for training in the morning. I don’t respond with anything other than stabbing the chicken on my plate with extra force. 

---------------------

I struck the center of the dummy and looked over for Cassian for any semblance of approval. He gave me a bored look and I stomped over to the stupid thing and pulled all three of the daggers out of it. Cas wanted me to get back up to snuff with long range before he put a sword in my hand again. I had never needed the sword that I kept strapped to my back on the missions I would accompany Azriel on, always having my powers to stop anyone from getting that close in the first place. Between Azriel shadows and my blanket of darkness, very rarely did we ever need anything more than truth teller. 

I grunted in frustration as the sharp metal flew through my fingers time after time, all of them hitting the center of the target. 

“Fuck this Cas, I did the warm ups, I did the exercises. Let me fight.” I needed to do something more than this. If I couldn’t use my powers, if they never came back, I needed to be useful. In no world would I just sit around and let my friends risk death while I sat around playing with my maps. Cassian must have heard the desperation in my voice because he agreed. 

We circled each other and I got a rare glimpse of Cassian with no restraint. This was the war general that scared people just by being on the battlefield. I tried not to let the frision of fear show as he surveyed every inch of me, seemingly reading my body language like I was screaming my next moves at him. I didn’t stand a chance. His fist made contact with my nose before I could turn out of the way and I fell to the ground. My hand went up and when I pulled it back, my fingers were sticky with my blood. Cassian was instantly in front of me, mumbling out apologies. I held up my hand to stop him from talking. 

“Cassian.” A stern voice called out as I ran my hand along my nose again, feeling for any breaks. “What did you do to her?” Azriel’s voice was full of concern as he knelt besides Cassian. 

“Alright bat brains. I’m not dying,” I started to stand up and they both reached out their hands to help me up, I swatted them away and brushed off the dust on my pants. “It’s not the first time I’ve been too slow before, and it’s not going to be the last.” They both stared at me and I rolled my eyes. “C’mon. I still have to beat you Cas.” He shook his head laughing and Azriel shot him a glare. 

Cassian, never one to back down from a challenge, and never one to miss an opportunity to piss off Azriel, agreed to go back into the ring with me. He coached me through it this time, slowing down his punches to explain how to predict them and block them. All things that I knew but just needed more practice. By the end of the hour I was covered in sweat but I was able to block him without his guidance. Azriel didn’t leave either, hanging back to watch, adding his own little tips and tricks to help me get some advantage over Cassian but I still couldn’t get him to budge an inch. 

“Do you want to get in with her then?” Cassian shouted to Azriel as he continued to assist me from the side lines. I made a motion for Cassian to stop as I tried to catch my breath. Placing my hands on my knees and sucking in screaming breaths. 

“I think I’m done.” I panted out.

“If you wanted me to make you breathless princess, all you had to do was ask.” He winked and tossed a canteen full of water over to me. I drank half of it in one long gulp and forced myself to stand up straight. My muscles were already crying out in protest. Tomorrow was going to suck for sure. 

The three of us walked back up to the house, laughing and joking and I felt proud of the progress I was making. Even if the dried blood still on my hands might have suggested otherwise. 

---------------------

A month went by so fast, I had to tick off the days to make sure I was right.I woke up to Rhys preparing to collect Feyre from the spring court again. Rhys didn’t ask me to go with him this time, after that last flood of emotions he knew he would have a hard time containing himself let alone both of us. 

I was already waiting at the house for when they got back, ready to play mediator if need be. They had barely materialized before my brother was fussing over Feyre. The two bickered back and forth but from the way she looked over herself, I knew even she could hear the worry in his voice. She had lost more weight since the last time she had been here. The shadows under her eyes creeped back onto her pale skin. “Eat breakfast with me.” He said and I shifted from my place in the living room. Mor was somewhere in the house after her visit to the Court of Nightmares yesterday. Probably still decompressing with the bottle of wine she took with her to bed. 

I gave Feyre a small smile and she didn’t return it, but she didn’t glare at me either. It’s a step at least. The female in front of me gave a heavy sigh after weighing Rhys offer. The growl I heard come from her stomach seemed to make the decision for her. I didn’t follow them, if she had wanted me to I would have been able to tell. So I stayed close enough that I could swoop in and save her from my brother's overprotectiveness if need be. The glimpses of their conversation I caught weren’t the best but I stilled completely as I caught, 

“I was tortured, beaten and fucked until only I could tell myself who I was, what I was protecting. Please- help me keep that from happening again. To Prythian.” My heart ached at the words. He had had it so much worse than I did, regardless of what people might believe. I could see it on his face during some of his bad days, the scars of what Amarantha did to him. I didn’t listen to her response as I walked to my room. 

I found Feyre the next day as I had the last time, hunched over the table with more lines from Rhys to read. She was copying them in better handwriting than she had before. When I approached she didn’t so much as look up at me. I called her name gently and still nothing. So I took that as my sign to let her be. Rhys had gotten called to the war camps later that day. 

“Just look after her please. I know she’s fine but let me know if either of you need anything.” He blabbered as I all but pushed him out the door. 

“We’ll be fine, you overprotective mother hen.” His face fell slightly and I couldn’t stand that look on his face. “I’ll let you know if she needs anything, okay? Now go be a High Lord.” I saw a hint of a smile as he winnowed out of the house. 

I tried to stay out of her way. Whatever bit of goodwill she had allowed me last time seemingly disappeared. So I kept bringing her books when she ran out of the ones Rhys had given her, brought her food and left her to her own devices. Today, she didn’t give me a glare as I sat down in the armchair on her left. I opened my own book without giving her a second glance. The small hmph she made was the only indication she had even noticed my presence. She didn’t want to talk and quite frankly, neither did I, perfectly content with getting lost in our own books. 

It was around midday and the sun was just starting to peek through the heavy curtains of the library when I felt Rhys appear in the room. In his hands were trays of food which he presented to Feyre. A small thank you left her lips and I wanted to smack that smug look on Rhys face as he teased her. But then I saw his face get serious and I suddenly felt very much like I was intruding on a private moment. “Tell me how I can help you.” His voice was scratchy and I knew he was trying to hold back tears, to keep the conversation casual enough that she wouldn’t shut him out again. I truly did try to tune them out but these were the same things I had been wanting to say to her all week but couldn’t find the strength. 

“If you fall apart then the bitch wins. All of that is for nothing and she wins.” Rhys said plainly and Feyre flinched before going back to her book. I could tell that she was talking to him in her mind. My eyes grew wide when I saw that slight layer of frost cover the book cover. Rhys barely had time to dodge said book as it was thrown right at his head. It bounced harmlessly to the floor and I stifled a laugh. The laugh died in my throat when I saw the flicker of flames in her palms and I tried to reach my mind out to Rhys, he all but threw me out. 

Feyre and Rhys left later that day. I didn’t offer to come with, didn’t want to come with. Just like last time when Rhys returned to Velaris, he stalked to his office and hid out for the rest of the evening. I only got close enough to the door to leave a plate of food outside before retreating back to my side of the house. His emotions pouring through the door were enough to give me a headache, the way it felt like I was walking into a brick wall. I didn’t try to talk to him for the rest of the day. Instead choosing to pull my attention back to the map in my study. 

I had been neglecting it to focus on Feyre and Rhys but I knew it’s just because I wasn’t getting anywhere. No matter how many books I read, I couldn’t think of anything that would help us win this war. Not without all seven courts working together and I knew Hel would freeze over before that ever happened. 

So I read until my eyes became blurry and heavy. My head had gotten so heavy like the words were getting stuck and wouldn’t leave. When I felt my eyes starting to close and knocking on the door jostled me awake. I saw the shadows before I saw him, too tired to notice that they had time to take in my current state and report back to Az. 

“You should take a break.” He said as he went to pull up a chair at the table I was sitting at. 

“I can’t take a break when I haven’t found anything yet.” I whined at him. “I’m supposed to be good at this, I am good at this. Or at least I was.” I slumped in my chair and I saw that familiar look of concern flash through his warm amber eyes. He sat there, I could almost see the gears in his brain turning, his shadows starting to swirl around the floor like soothing waves. I stared at them and felt my mind calm slightly. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, wings flapping behind him. 

We just sat there in silence for a few moments and then he stood up suddenly. My eyes tracked the movement, following his arm as he extended a hand to me. It was like my brain short circuited at the gesture. He had to clear his throat before I snapped out of it and I timidly placed my hand in his. He led me out of my office and I felt his shadows on my heels. “Where are we going?” I laughed at how ridiculous this must look, one of the fiercest Illyrian warriors towing someone behind him like an excited kid. 

“Just be quiet. You’ll know when we get there.” His own voice full of an almost giddy excitement. So I let him pull me along. All the way outside until it clicked. There was a little patch of grass beside the Sidra that I loved to sit by when the weather was just starting to turn warm. Our little group used to spend free days out on that field, just soaking in the warmth. He gave me a proud smirk when we finally reached that stretch of grass. “Now, you’re going to sit and just enjoy being out here.”

“Is that an order?” I teased and he didn’t miss a beat. 

“If that means you’ll actually do it, then yes.” I sat and looked out over the river. The lights and sounds of the city walk could just trickle in, becoming a lovely hum in the back of my mind. I patted the spot next to me and Azriel sat beside me. I curled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on top of them. Just looking at the city I loved so much. We didn’t talk, Azriel was always good for that. He knew when I needed the quiet. The sound of the small waves helped clear my head and after a while I felt my shoulders sink down, the tension lightening. It was still there of course but became more manageable as I could smell the water and Azriel’s pine and fresh air scent. It wrapped its way around me and held me like my favorite blanket. 

“Thank you.” I said, breaking the comfortable silence. We didn’t look at each other, still staring out at the city just ahead. 

“Of course. Anything for you,” He cleared his throat, “For one of my friends.” I bit down the string at that little word. I fought the urge to put some distance between us at the feeling that flooded me. The cruel reminder of just exactly how he saw me. So I just pulled my legs in tighter and ignored all the thoughts of him that began to take over. 

We didn’t head back to the house until sundown. The pair of us walked under the flickering faelights that lined the streets. It still blows my mind how much the city changed while I was gone. I told him that much. And he shrugged off the tiny complement. 

“Rhys and I will never be able to thank you enough for how much you all did while we were…gone.” My voice felt tight as I finished, “You kept our home safe when we couldn’t.” He turned to look at me and went to say something but stopped himself. His face looked slightly pained, in that concerned way he always managed. He shook his head slightly. 

“You did more than we ever could. You and Rhys gave us a chance to have something to protect in the first place.” In his words, I was pulled back to that night when it had all gone to shit. How Cassian and Azriel were out dealing with the camps and how I couldn’t convince Rhys not to go so I insisted that I come along. I had to beg him to let me come with him and he still wasn’t happy about it. We walked right into a trap and before most of his power had been ripped away from him he wiped the memory of Velaris from everyone who was under the mountain and let our friends know what was happening, how they couldn’t come after us without leaving Velaris unguarded. 

Azriel’s small nudge to my shoulder pulled me back to the present and his eyes asked the question before he needed to. 

“I’m okay.” But I felt how my arms had wrapped around myself but he didn’t say anything about it, letting me have my space. We reached the house again and I could hear Cassian and Mor’s voices floating down the hallway. The sound alone plastered a smile on my face. Azriel followed behind me as I rounded the corner and Cassian all but cheered when he saw me. “There you are princess, we went to pull you out of your study but it seems someone beat us to it.” He gave me a small wink and I laughed at the joke behind it. I shook my head as I sat down next to Mor who was already pouring me a glass of wine. 

Rhys spoke to me across the table, “I peaked in and saw the map, tomorrow if you’re up for it I want all of us to go over it.” I nodded and he smiled at me. And we all ate and joked and I left the love I felt for the people in the room washed over me like the waves in the Sidra. 

---------------------

“So if it comes down to war. Who do we have?” Rhys turned to Cassian and myself. We were all sitting around the map I had been working on, face grim as I explained the various markings. 

“The Illyrians don’t have a choice. The court of nightmares should. We kept up pretty well with Dawn and Day. Winter…” His voice trailed off. I still remember Kallias’ face as the news broke of the attack on Winter. The thousands of babes dead by Amarantha’s hand. The pure loathing his face held as he looked at Rhys. 

“I can talk to them.” I had always liked Kallias. And from the little bit I’ve heard since our return home, he finally married Viviane after being friends since childhood. Viviane was sweet and her, Mor and I had been known to get ourselves in trouble when together. If she would listen, Winter would come around. 

“Autumn and Spring are lost causes.” Cassian sighed beside me, slumping down in his chair. 

“Tamlin is delusional enough to think it would keep him safe.” And keep Feyre safe. But I didn’t say that outloud. “Beron is…well Beron. Unless we think we can pursue one of the brothers to take him out of the equation, I think it’s better to not plan for them.” 

“Summer?” Rhys asked pointedly ignoring Cas’ words on the other seasonal courts. 

“Tarquin is new and young. He’ll side with the majority. But I think I could talk to him and at least see where his loyalties lie.” I had only talked to the new high lord a few times during our time under the mountain. He seemed nice enough, one of the few people who was even willing to talk to me at all. No fear of the role I had been forced into and hoped he would side with us. Hoped his newness wouldn’t scare him into the easy choice.” 

“I don’t like the idea of having two courts fighting against us.” Azriel finally spoke up. I had almost forgotten he was in the room but his shadow currently sitting at my feet should have been reminder enough. “Hybern has the armies he needs and if he has the cauldron….” 

“So what do you suggest?” My brother asked, head in his hands. 

“We talk to them. Let them know that we won’t win this if we’re not unified. Remind them that we fought a war once to avoid this very thing and some courts were on the wrong side of history then and would be now.” I spoke plainly, it was the only answer. If it had been anyone else the idea would have been shot down. But Rhys just let out a heavy breath and nodded. 

“We’ll wait until we’re sure. Some courts will refuse to believe there will be a war until it’s staring them in the face.” The tone in Rhys’ voice letting us know this meeting was over. We all stayed in the room, the same exhausted look sat on our faces. “Good work.” Rhys said to me as he studied the map again. “You got all of this from books?” I had been too young to remember most of the war, let alone fight in it. But at least someone had thought it smart to recount all of it in very exact detail, I just managed to translate to current day Prythian. Rhys was silently nodding to himself as he really studied the map. The others slowly filter out of the room, leaving Rhys and I alone studying the map. 

“And these?” He pointed to the orange marks I had drawn all over. 

“Trade agreement routes, the thicker the line, the more movement there is through that path. They would be the most vulnerable areas since people know them so well. They’re also normally the quickest way between courts.” I pointed out more of the lines and pins. I had so much marked off, down to what ways the rivers flowed and where their currents changed. Rhys just drank in all the information I threw at him, only nodding along to the explanations. I was about to start on another part of the map before I saw his face freeze. 

Rhys had completely stilled besides me. That all-too-familiar far-away look on his. When I raised my eyebrow at him, “What is it? Is it…” He didn’t wait for me to finish, instead he let me into his mind and I almost flinched at whatever feeling Feyre was sending him. The crushing agony and pure terror. It was a feeling I knew all too well. These weren't the few stray glimpses Feyre had sent him while they were separated. This was the very thing all of us were holding our breath for, hoping it never happened. 

“Rhys we can’t just ignore it this time.” I spoke, already leaving the table. His hand wrapped around my wrist, making me pause. 

“If you storm in there, Tamlin has every right to declare a war.” 

“And we’ll have every right to kill his sorry ass. Something that we could have done decades ago.” I spit back at my brother. 

“Please.” His voice shook with fear. Scared for Feyre and maybe for me. I put my hands up in surrender. I couldn’t argue against the tone in his voice. 

“So how do you want to do this then?” I asked him and we started planning. 

In less than 10 minutes Mor had winnowed right on the border of spring and summer. Rhys had insisted that she come along to help. Her status would help blanket us from any repercussions. Plus her powers would come in handy if any of the guards found us. So her and I snuck into that manor I had sworn I would never see again. Do it for Feyre. Be brave for her. I said to myself as my own terror rose to a fever pitch. 

I could see the darkness already pouring out of the house. My anger quickly turned into fear. What did he do to her? The voice in my head screamed. Rhys had already broken the wards and whatever was locking her inside the house. Mor knocked out the guards before they could spot us. When we finally entered the house my blood ran cold. Sitting in a ball of inky darkness was Feyre. Her screams pierced something deep inside of me. I looked around and locked eyes with Alis. Her eyes wide as she took in my face. 

“He locked her in the house. I tried to…Please just keep her safe.” Was all the older fae had said to me. 

My heart warmed at the concern in her voice. The same concern she had once shown me. I nodded and walked towards Feyre. Whatever darkness she was wielding seemed to only be for her and as I shook her shoulder, gently saying her name they retreated slightly. I looked over to Mor who only gave me a small nod. Taking her cue, I picked up the shaking female and was startled by how light she felt. Mor spoke up from beside me. “Your guards are going to have a hell of a headache when they wake up.” 

Alis nodded in understanding and I added. “Don’t tell him where we took her. Please.” And for a second I felt just as broken as the female in my arms. I knew she would tell him, and would have to tell him but a small part of me wished she wouldn’t. But that was unfair to expect of her. It reminded me too much of the same hope I had when I left. Face sunken in and heart broken as I begged her to not tell Tamlin I was leaving. No one was there to help me and I’ll be damned if Feyre ever felt that pain. I didn’t say another word as Mor winnowed us right in front of the border. It felt like I could finally breathe again as the scent shifted to ripe fruit and salt water that marked us as safe. Marked us in summer. Feyre shifted in my arms and mumbled something softly. 

Mor soothed a hand through her hair. “You’re free.” 

Rhys quickly scoped Feyre from my arms without so much as a word. He looked at Mor and I 

“We did everything by the book.” Rhys nodded before I felt the air whoosh around my ears and I knew we had made it home. Rhys deftly climbed the stairs to take Feyre to her room and I just stood staring at my brother back. I blocked out the memories that began to rise to the surface. The scar on my arm prickled and when my other hand raised to scratch at the angry white lines that trailed down my forearm, Mors hand wrapped against mine. Grounding me in the present. 

“She’s free.” She repeated to me. 

“Thank the mother.” I responded as I started to climb the stairs suddenly bone tired. 

Feyre didn’t emerge from her room that night or the next morning. More than once I found myself standing outside her door, hand held up to knock but some part of my brain told me not to. Rhys hasn't left her side the whole time she was asleep. Whatever magic she had used in the house had exhausted her and I felt my heart pang for her. How alone she must have felt, how scared she must have been to be locked in that house. I remember my simple panic the first time I went to the basement of the townhouse. How it transported me back to under the mountain, I couldn’t imagine how it felt to be locked away again.  

When I finally did see her, she seemed to have gotten a little color back. Enough so that she was able to argue with Rhys again. I didn’t linger this time to hear the fight, letting them duke it out in private. But as Rhys turned the corner, I knew something that happened. Something important. 

”We’re going home.” 

If someone had told me two months ago that Feyre would be standing in the living room of our home in Velaris I would have probably keeled over laughing. But here we were, Feyre’s eyes flickering from spot to spot in the house. I couldn’t get a read on her face but before I could even process that, I heard a pounding on the door. Cassian’s voice filtering through the wood, already complaining. Rhys shot me a look that said deal with them please. He tried to hide it but I could tell he was waiting for Feyre’s reaction to her surroundings. A hint of anything to gauge how she was feeling. He needed her to like this place like he needed to breathe. So I excused myself from the room and slipped out the front door. 

”Are you serious Cas?”

”I want to meet her. She’s right there, my brothers m-” I cut him off, blocking both him and Azriel from trying to peek into the house. They could easily push right past me but stayed a healthy distance. 

”Do not finish that sentence. Do you want all of Velaris to know?” I whispered screamed at him and he rolled his eyes.

”I promise you drama queen, no one’s up this early. I don’t want to be up this early.” 

After a few minutes of us bickering back and forth, Rhys opened the door and said to us, “Are you all just going to stand there?” 

Cassian all but trampled me trying to get in the house. I laughed when I saw his crestfallen face as he noticed Feyre was no longer in the room. “She was here right?” He spoke to the room. 

”Maybe she’s scared of your good looks Cas, can’t have her falling in love with the wrong Illyrian bastard now can we?” I shot Rhys a wink and he growled lightly. 

”She’ll meet you when she’s ready.” Was all he said before he rangled all of us into the dining room. 

Feyre slept for the rest of the morning. She came down the stairs dressed in Night Court clothes and I felt my breath catch in my throat. The way they seemed to compliment her well enough and I had to bite my tongue to prevent me from pointing that out. Rhys met her at the door and shot me a vulgar gesture at my sugary sweet, “Be safe kids.” That I called out from my spot on the couch. I sat on the couch until the sun started to set. I had just got to the good part and debated even going to the dinner at all but I was dying to see how Feyre would handle our crazy family. If she had any chance at surviving here, she needed to like them or they would drive her crazy. Although from Cassian’s earlier words that might be the case either way. So I groaned and pulled myself off the couch, pulling on the first thing that I saw and winnowed with Mor to the front steps of the house. 

Azriel and Cassian were waiting to fly us up. Cassian wrapped his arm around Mor’s waist and Azriel did the same to me. I hardly felt my feet leave the ground before he was already placing me down in front of the door. I had not had the heart to come here since I’ve been home. Too many memories for me to want to come alone and Mor grabbed my hand as she pulled me through the threshold. We had just settled in before I heard the faint trails of Rhys and Feyre voices outside the door. I couldn’t stop the two males from bounding to the door, they flung it open to reveal a very annoyed looking Rhys. I held my breath as she stood in the doorway, eyes searching for something and she landed on me. She squared her shoulders but Cassian was already speaking.

”I promise we won't bite.” 

Last I heard, Cassian, no one has taken you up on that offer.” And I laughed as Feyre’s face blanched. I didn’t miss the way the female's eyes raked over the Illyrians as they stepped into the light. I tried not the bristle as her eyes lingered on Azriel just a fraction longer than I would have liked. Rhys introduced the two and it was Feyres response to one of his questions that made me feel a frision of pride. 

”How the hell did you manage to survive this long without anyone killing you?” She would fit right in and Cassian’s booming laugh told me that very same thing. Armen had appeared almost out of thin air as we all made our way to the table. 

Feyre was slowly filled in about how the three brothers had met. Her eyes flickered to me during the story. 

”Where do you fit into all of this, besides being his sister.” She quickly added. Everyone seemed to be waiting for me to answer. 

”I mean there's not much else to it besides that. He got stuck with them so I did too. I nearly knocked Cassian's teeth in the first time I met him and I’ve been stuck with them ever since.” I stuck my tongue out at Cassian who rolled his eyes. 

”You mean you broke your fist trying to, princess. I had to nurse you back to health and you were helpless but to fall for my charm.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes and I fought the urge to throw my bread across the table at him. If it wasn't for Feyre I would have. The rest of the stories and tales flowed out and, much to Feyre’s credit, she didn’t falter in the slightest. She interjected at the perfect moments, making jokes that had everyone roaring with laughter. Then the tables were turned onto her and Cassian was asking her about her life. After she had finished she turned to Rhys.

’I accept your offer- to work with you.” And I wanted to scream and cheer. I felt no such joy from Rhys as he started.

”Good because we start tomorrow. Hybern is starting this war and he’s going to bring back Jurian to help him.” I felt a shiver run down my back. Rhys had neglected to tell me that part. In an instant the lighthearted conversation was thrown to the side and Cassian launched into full general mode.

 I tried my best to keep up with this new bit of information, how it would throw a wrench into any attempts of a plan. I missed the conversation that followed, mind already trying to figure out the adjustments I would need to make to the map in my office. Armen managed to snap me out of my thinking. 

”The Bone Carver might indeed be willing to talk to her.” She pointed a finger at Feyre and I went to argue against the ancient female. Rhy had beaten me to it. 

”Your choice, always your choice, Feyre.” and I tried to keep the fear off my face as she answered. 

”How bad could it be.” Cassians’ answer had her face pale as a ghost and it was clear dinner was over at that moment. The others reduced to arguing over the semantics and who would be doing what in preparation for their journey to the prison. My eyes suddenly felt very heavy at the sounds of their voices. Azriel’s gentle hand on my shoulder was the sign that the arguing had stopped at all. I didn’t need to be asked a second time and as he flew me back down to the ground below Velaris, I wondered if all of us would make it through the war a second time.

Next Chapter: Here

Taglist: @durgenyx @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx

[gamarancianne]

Azriel x reader - In Between, part IV

Summary: waking up, you realise Lucien was completely right: the man sleeping beside you is an abuser. But how will you escape him and why does this shadow seem to be belonging with you ?

Warning: angst, lots of angst, mention of SA attempt, fight, mention of blood, kinda fluff if you squint, so much sweet Azzy you could die, but also threatening scary Azzy, nightmares, not proofread sorry, my English of course.

Note: again I wholeheartedly apologise for the late posting. I’m so so so happy to get back !!! Here I met 4 there surely will be a part 5 and maybe a part 6 or an epilogue. But for this one, I’m not really sure I like about how it turned out. Let me know in the comments I love when you have something to say ! Just remember to be nice and polite please ! 🙏🏻 love you all ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Part I, part II, part III

The morning came quickly. Too quick for your liking. The second you opened your eyes, Aaron’s mouth was on you. You tried to push him back but seeing his face you understood that you were in a very bad position : his eyes were full of lust and hunger and they didn’t seem to have anything stopping them.

Panic flooded in your veins and grabbing the sheets to have something covering you, you ran away from your bedroom. He followed you closely, screaming, and yelling that you were such an ungrateful slut, whom he had been too nice to wait for and that if you wanted it or not, he would take you anyway.

Fear had paralysed you and he caught you quickly before pining you roughly to the wall. His hands were on every inch of your skin. It felt disgusting, his mouth leaving saliva behind on the column of your neck, on your collarbone, your chest.

His hands were now dangerously closed to your core, and in a last moment of desperation you kicked him in the balls, pushed him off and ran in your bathroom.

Closing the door, he was already banging against it, screaming like a mad man. He was so strong that the door almost gave in twice. Fear had gripped you and you curled yourself in the corner of your bathtub, crying desperately for a different ending of your life than this.

You didn’t want it to end now : you hadn’t met your mate, your friendship with lucien was on thin ice because of you and you haven’t even apologised. You regretted lots and lots of moments in your possibly missed life : you regretted not being able to see Nyx grow up, to continue your friendship with Feyre and last but not least you regretted not having kissed those beautiful lips that belonged to Azriel… Lucien was so right about you. How could he know you so much when you sign even yourself ? Of course you didn’t want this psycho of male threatening to abuse you, as he exactly said the other day, you still weren’t over Azriel. You still wanted Azriel, you needed him with every bit of your body and soul. They aches for the beautiful male. And now it was too late. The mere thought made you crying even more that you didn’t sense the comforting and cold presence caressing your skin.

Not even minutes later the shoutings suddenly stopped and they transformed into pain, even agony screams.

Big steps were heard behind your door and you didn’t even want to know who they belonged to : you had already accepted your fate. So you closed your eyes and waited for death to come like an old friend. But it never arrived, darkness and emptiness never found you. Strong arms wrapped around your shivering frame with care and attention, and your eyes bursted open when you sensed the familiar feeling of burn scars on your bare skin. Hazel sought for your eye colour with so much more worry than you could ever imagine. His mesmerising and deep eyes went down on your chest and shot up immediately with some light pink crawling under them : the sheet had managed to slide off your shoulder and it didn’t cover you enough anymore. Ashamed you quickly out your hands to cover yourself a bit and draped the fabric better on your skin.

As Azriel walked out of your bathroom, you saw Aaron, hurt and unconscious lying on the floor of your apartment. He was in a bad state : blood coated his bruising face and you caught sight of two teeth or three inches away.

No words came out from Azriel’s mouth as he took off for the House of Winds and when he arrived. Even when Cassian and Rhysand came to him completely confused and panicked at your appearance. But he seemed to throw some orders at Rhys in his mind and definitely sent a warning glare to the long-haired man newt to him.

He brought to a room, a big dark one but still full of light. You were delicately put on a silky enormous mattress and given a fresh glass of water. Still no one spoke a word and you didn’t even register when you started to fall in Morpheus arms.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Sweat covered your body and a deep frown adorned your face when Azriel came back in his room to check on you. You were moving and kicking in your sleep letting fearful pleas and whines out of your presses mouth. Azriel ran to you trying to wake you up. He knew better than to let you in the horrible trap that can be your own fears all grouped in nightmares.

Tears stained your cheeks as your body went still and as your worst scenario faded away to leave room to the reality happening before you. Azriel was watching you closely, his hand caressing your still trembling frame and his voice shushing you. The sobs couldn’t stop and you wrapped tightly your arms around his broad shoulders. Azriel never stopped your embrace and whispered :

“I’m here now, everything’s fine. You’re not in danger anymore, you are here with me and everything will be alright”

Rocking back and forth you calmed down a bit before responding.

“I thought.. I thought I was going to- to…

-I know. But nothing will happen now, he will never be able to even lay a finger on you.”

With a shaky and raspy from all the crying, voice, you asked :

“You promise ? You’re sure ?

-I am and I promise.”

A strange tingling behind your ear and behind his as well marked your promise now forever engraved on your skins.

Since it was the middle of the night, you rapidly fell asleep again, in the comfort and security of Azriel’s arms. He tried not to sleep, but ended up doing so with the exhaustion from the panic and fear he had felt deep in his bones for hours today. You probably wouldn’t even realise, but he had been so scared for you when the shadow came to warn him about what was happening to you. He had run and flown the fastest he could to come find you, knocking off some furniture in his trail. He couldn’t possibly imagine another man laying forcefully his hands on you without your consent : no that was not going to happen, never, not when he was still breathing and his heart still beating.

Sound asleep, you were woken up by the sounds of dishes in the kitchen. What had happened last night slams back into you full force : Aaron and his attempt to … no you didn’t want nor need to think about it. You observed your environment, the dark room of Azriel, minimalist like him : a bed, a closet and some armoires but not much more. Except a mirror, a big mirror, standing in front of the enormous bed you were in. Your mind started to wander to the use of the said mirror just in front of a king-size bed costumed to big Illyrian wings, full of silky sheets so sweet at the touch…No no no ! You couldn’t go there stop that ! Your cheeks and neck heat up instantly. Shaking your head to make these obnoxious thoughts go away, you made your way outside the room and into the kitchen. There he was, beauty and charm both standing before you, making you both breakfast you assumed. He stiffened and turned to look at you when he sensed you. His hazel eyes trailed down your body to your thighs not covered by anything and quickly tuned back to continue what he was doing. You hadn’t noticed but you were wearing a big and loose tee shirt that arrived to the middle of your thighs and a pair of boxers that were far from belonging to you. ‘Oh shoot!’ Embarrassment ran through your whole body of the situation : how could you have not seen that you were wearing his clothes ? But wait… how did you even get into his clothes ? Last time you remembered you were… oh cauldron boil you ! Your cheeks and hid behind your hand at some search of reassurance.

“I tried not to look if that’s what you’re wondering about.

-Thanks, I guess. For that and the rescue and everything actually.

-It’s okay really. About that, how are you doing, do you want to maybe talk about it or not, it’s up to you. I- I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you into something.

-Don’t worry Azriel, I’m okay, at least I guess I am.”

Silence returned and he placed two plates full of eggs, bacon, pancakes and fruits in them, on the counter, which you were seated to on a stool.

You ate in silence, enjoying a good meal after a whole day being asleep without eating.

“Who was he ? Azriel asked at of nowhere.

-What ?

-Who was he ? And why was he in your apartment ?

-His name is Aaron, I’ve seen him a lot these past few weeks. He slept at mine the night before.

-Like a date ?

-Yes like a date. And no I’m not going to tell you details of our night. But the morning came and just as I woke he was on me and I couldn’t do anything. And by the way, how did you even know I was in danger ?

-One of my shadow stayed with you after babysitting Nyx, despite me trying to get it back, and it came to me to warn me when you were in your bathroom.

-Where is he now ?”

Azriel’s look darkened and he didn’t answer you.

“Az, where is he now ? You repeated your question, articulating each word.

-You don’t want to know. He’s being dealt dont worry if that’s what is your concern.

-Oh..-“

As you were about to continue Cassian, followed quickly by Feyre barged in the kitchen. Feyre was the first hugging you.

“I am so so so sorry you had to live that, and I am so sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”

She had tears in her eyes and still hoped that this was all a bad joke, that it never happened to you. Cassian was a close second to swim you in his arms for a big bear hug.

“Don’t worry, with Rhys and Az we’re examining all the possibilities to make the bastard regret what he’s done to you.

-Thanks to you both.

-Yn, are you alright ? Feyre asked.

-Yeah I am, just feeling a bit empty but I am.”

You smiled at he worried face to prove what you were saying.

“Don’t hesitate to ask any of us, if you need anything.

-Yes I promise, but I don’t need anything for now… Actually, do you know where Lucien is ? And if he-…

-Yes he’s aware, and feeling guilty about it but didn’t want to tell me why. He’s in his room here in the House of Wind because he didn’t to be too far from you in case you needed him.”

You silently thanked her and sent a last thankful look to Azriel as you walked away to find your dear friend.

You don’t even know how much time you spent in front of his door not knowing if you really had the guts to open it. As you put your hand on the doorknob, it opened and a sleep deprived red haired man appeared in front of you, shock adorning his features from seeing you. In a second you were in his arms and booths of you were crying so much that you were soaking each other’s shirt.

“I’m sorry”

You said at the same time.

“No Lu, I am really I am. I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve understood your point of view and should not have treated you the way that I did. You’ve always been so good to me and all I have done is be such a brat to the bestest friend I’ve ever had. I am so so sorry.

-As I am. You are completely forgiven for what you’ve said, even if I can’t say that it didn’t affect me.

-Yes I completely understand and I promis I will make up to you.

-I really am sorry too. I should have stayed and not yelled at you to tell you what I saw. I am sorry about that. I knew this guy was bad. I knew it !

-Yes, you were completely right. Again I apologise.

-Everything is forgotten now. And fortunately because I missed you braiding my hair.”

Cries transformed in laughs and hugs s and kisses from happiness of having finally found again your platonic soulmate.

You spent all day in Lucien’s room telling him about your babysitting week with Nyx and Azriel, about Aaron and what had happened. You avoided the parts where Azriel and you had slept tangled with each other or where you had made a bargain in the middle of the night, curling against him.

You left the House of Wind in the late afternoon with a pained Azriel, whose touch lingered on you a few seconds when he flew you down. The same shadow wrapped around your wrist and another one around your ankle.

You and Lucien has strolled around Velaris for the evening, you had tested out a little pastry shop near the Rainbow and had joked and laughed on the bridge of the Sidra.

You both walked to his flat, a mutual understanding that you didn’t have the strength to go back to yours tonight. Before opening the door, you looked at the night sky, two stars caught your attention, one brighter than the other, that seemed a bit off tonight. Your hand felt drawn to your new tattoo behind your ear and gasped when your fingers made out the pattern now engraved on your skin : two shining stars that seemed orbiting around each others until they reached the other and became one.

“Lu ?

-mmmh yes ?

-I think he’s my mate.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist:

@mirandasidefics @63angel @leeknows-wife @thehighlordishere @annaaaaa88 @starsinyourseyes @oucereeng @wallacewillow0773638 @kalulakunundrum @lilah-asteria @samuelseoswife

[spore-loser]

Rhys holding grudges against Lucien and Nesta despite Feyre forgiving them is disrespectful of her wishes and hypocritical of him in general.

ACOFS: “But I cannot let go of how [Lucien] treated you after Under the Mountain.” “I can. I’ve forgiven him for that.” “Well, you’ll forgive me if I can’t.”

Lucien tried his best to help Feyre after UTM. He advocated for her at his own expense and there was only so much he could do because he was not the HL. He tried to bring Feyre back to the SC because he thought she had been kidnapped, was being mind-controlled, and sexually assaulted. Then (regardless of his reasoning) Lucien risked his life to get Feyre back to the NC.

“You still can 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 this summer, Rhys.” “I cannot forgive anyone who made you suffer.”

Feyre was right but Rhys just brushed it off with infantilization of Elain and a vague statement about Nesta. Both Elain and Feyre at that point had called out the double standard of blaming Nesta and not Elain.

The IC could judge Nesta all they wanted but none of them had a right to hold Nesta accountable for that situation. It was Archeron family business and Feyre’s choice to forgive Nesta. It is disrespectful to her and that choice for Rhys to forever hold a grudge and let it affect his behavior. Feyre repeatedly told him to back off her sister. She knew Nesta in a way the IC did not, did not take her behavior personally post-cabin, and could handle her. Being antagonistic to Nesta would in no way help Feyre’s relationship with her and only contribute to the strain.

What does Nesta being Illyrian at heart even mean? We didn’t get an explanation on that, so it is left up to our interpretations. 

“The Illyrians (…) are unparalleled warriors, and are rich with stories and traditions.” -ACOMAF

This is how Rhys introduced Feyre to his and his mother’s people. So I assume what he meant with the comparison is that Nesta is strong(-willed) and ruthless. Whatever he meant, his reasoning is: due to her similarity, Nesta’s behavior is inexcusable. 

I’m not saying Nesta’s treatment of Feyre was excusable, but at that point Nesta had done everything Feyre asked of her and then some. She had been involved in the war effort on every level, from diplomacy to helping in the camps to strategy to the battlefield. She saved Cassian’s life multiple times. She directly risked her life to distract the King of Hybern. She helped kill the King of Hybern. She was crucial to the war effort and Rhys just ignored that because of something Feyre had already forgiven Nesta for.

Rhys himself is actually Illyrian so why is his behavior excusable? For weeks he sexually exploited Feyre in front of everyone UTM without any logical reason except to get back at Tamlin. (Link) Feyre forgave him and they moved on without Rhys even offering an apology or them having a real discussion on how it hurt her. Why does Rhys get away with his abuse so easily but for the rest of Nesta’s life she is to be held responsible for something she was singled out for? (Not even holding her accountable for the verbal abuse, but specifically the hunting thing.)

“They’re my family. You have to forgive Nesta at some point.” (…) “Should that be my Solstice gift to you?” he murmured. “Forgiving Nesta for letting her fourteen-year-old sister go into those woods?”

It was not Rhys’ place to forgive, it was Feyre’s. And why did Rhys only blame Nesta for letting Feyre go? Their father was the one responsible for the Archeron’s poverty and he made no attempt to work even before his attack. Rhys knew this.

he hadn’t argued when I announced that I was going hunting. He hadn’t bothered to attempt to stand from his seat by the fire, hadn’t bothered to look up from his wood carving. He just let me walk into those deadly, eerie woods that even the most seasoned hunters were wary of. -ACOTAR

“My mother died when I was eight; my father lost his fortune three years later. He sold everything to pay off his debts, moved us into a hovel, and didn’t bother to find work while he let us slowly starve for years. I was fourteen when the last of the money ran out, along with the food. He wouldn’t work—couldn’t, because the debtors came and shattered his leg in front of us. So I went into the forest and taught myself to hunt. And I kept us all alive, if not near starvation at times, for five years.” -ACOMAF

Why did Rhys not hold it against Feyre’s father that he sat by and did nothing while his youngest daughter went out to hunt? Instead, Rhys asked Feyre if she wanted to name their son after him. The narrative obviously treated the Archeron father differently because he came through for his daughters in the end and gave his life for them, but why was he never judged by the IC for his failure to his daughters in the first place? 

Rhys holding a grudge against Lucien and Nesta for how they treated Feyre is peak hypocrisy. He mistreated Feyre throughout their whole relationship. (Link 1) (Link 2)

ACOTAR: Going into Feyre’s mind and using it to humiliate her, and everything UTM, which was all completely illogical and unnecessary to their survival. (Link)

ACOMAF: Rhys only gave Feyre the illusion of choice, emotionally manipulated her, and gaslit her about Tamlin. (Link 1) (Link 2) He put Feyre in dangerous situations several times without all the facts both at the Weaver’s cottage and using her to bait the Attor (near the Archeron house, also putting them at risk).  

ACOWAR: Being 500+ years old, he should have been the one to think better of entering into a toxically co-dependent death pact with his only twenty-year-old mate. 

ACOSF: Regardless of his reasoning for it, hiding that Feyre’s pregnancy was life-threatening is medical abuse. It’s disrespectful to her on multiple levels because she made it very clear to Rhys she never wanted to be left in the dark. He had her whole support system in on it too, isolating Feyre emotionally. Her whole family betrayed her trust over something Feyre should have been told before she even got pregnant. Even if Rhys is only half Illyrian, there was always a chance of his and Feyre’s children having wings, and it was common knowledge among the bat boys that wings were a danger to high fae mothers. 

[yaralulu]

I don’t know why the fandom,hell even the books,does this thing where it’s constantly trying to blame/say that some characters enabled other character’s shitty actions.

Tamlin abused feyre—>Lucien let Feyre get abused.

Ianthe SA’ed and harassed Lucien —> Tamlin let Lucien get SA’ed by Ianthe.

Papa Archeron did nothing while Feyre hunted —> Nesta let Feyre hunt.

These are just some I see all the time and I’m pretty sure these are all reinforced in the books which is so frustrating.You cannot blame Tamlin’s abuse on Lucien,or Ianthe’s harassment on Tamlin or Nesta for her absent fathers shit.It’s stupid.

Lucien was in an impossible position in acomaf,stuck between trying to help his two friends whilst also struggling with his own shit.He tried to help Feyre,tried to talk to Tamlin and make him see reason but ultimately he is not responsible for what Tamlin did.

Tamlin was being manipulated by Ianthe and had no idea she was interested in Lucien.He didn’t force Lucien to perform Calanmai and he wasn’t present when it happened.He didn’t enable Ianthe and was literally clueless regarding anything that happened between her and Lucien.He is not responsible for what Ianthe did.

The Nesta situation has been talked about to death but ultimately their dad was supposed to be their care taker and he gave up on them.All archeron sisters deserved better and they were all children when their life fell apart.Can we start blaming the actual people who fucked up instead of trying to shift the blame onto other characters like I’m so sick of seeing these takes 😐.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 12

Summary: After the deaths of her fathers, Y/n past traumas resurface, leading her to do what she does best- push everyone away, including her sisters.

Warnings: angst, suicidal tendencies, substance abuse/addiction, grief, unresolved trauma, self-destructive behavior.

A/N: Y/n is heading down a dark path. If you thought she and Azriel were getting closer to something more, then you’ve seen nothing yet. We’re back to them being strangers- or better yet, she’s just beginning to show her cruelty toward him. Poor Az.

I don’t usually specify eye colors, but trust me it’s somewhat relevant to the plot.

WC: 3.8 K.

You can read previous chapter here. Fictober Challenge

Y/n finally opened her eyes, long after the war had ended. They had won, but at what cost?

“You’re awake! I’ll inform the others,” Elain said quickly, rushing outside. Y/n remained still, taking in her surroundings, trying to piece together what had happened. They may have won the war, but she had lost.

Moments later, her sisters and Rhys appeared in her room. “You’re finally awake. We were so afraid we’d lose you- we nearly did,” Feyre said softly, a flicker of relief in her gaze. “Azriel brought you to Madja and Thesan the moment you collapsed. They managed to save you just in time. If he’d been a minute later…” She trailed off, her voice heavy. “We would have lost you.” 

“Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to be saved?” Y/n’s voice was low and cold, stripped of any emotion.

A startled silence filled the room. “It took great effort to save you. Not many received that chance,” Rhys said quietly.

“Then you shouldn’t have wasted it on me. You should’ve just let me die.” Her tone was flat, unyielding. 

“Y/n, how could you say that? We love you.” Elain’s voice wavered with hurt.

“I think we should let her rest,” Feyre said gently. “If you need anything, we’ll be right outside.”

As the other left, Nesta lingered, her eyes searching Y/n’s face for a moment before she, too, left. At the door, they ran into Azriel, who had just arrived and asked if he could see her. Feyre hesitated, warning him of her fragile state, but he was insistent.

He entered and took a seat in the armchair beside her bed, leaning forward slightly. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Nothing. I feel… nothing.” Her gaze was fixed on the wall, her expression blank.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Why?” She turned to look at him slowly, her face emotionless.

“I… because I wasn’t there to protect you.” he murmured, searching her eyes for a reaction.

“You wouldn’t have, even if you were there,” she replied, her voice chillingly even. “He would’ve snapped you like a twig. Or maybe he would have ripped your wings from your body, watched you writhe in agony before slitting your throat. And there would’ve been nothing you or I or anyone could do about it but watch.” The detached way she said the words unsettled him, sacred him. The Y/n he knew would have shown fear, pain, or some flicker of emotion, but this…this was something- someone else. 

She turned away from him, pulling the blanket up slightly. “I’d like to rest now.” 

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Finally, he nodded to himself and left the room quietly. 

Over the next few days, they brought her food, but she refused to eat or speak to any of them.

Until one day when Feyre visited again. “We buried your father next to ours. Would you like to visit them?”

“No.” Y/n’s answer was flat, her gaze distant.

Feyre hesitated, then reached into her pocket. “Azriel found this when…when he carried you,” she said, offering her a letter.

Y/n looked at it but didn’t move to take it. “I don’t want it.”

“It was from your f-”

“Throw it out, bury it, I don’t care.” Y/n interrupted, her tone sharp and final.

Feyre bit her lip, placing the letter on the bedside table. “You should eat something.” She kept her voice gentle, leaving the food nearby, but Y/n remained silent, her gaze unfocused, lost.

Elain and Feyre took turns bringing food and encouraging Y/n to get out of bed. But Nesta kept her distance, visiting one once since Y/n had woken.

The day Y/n decided to get out of bed was anything but pleasant. She demanded a place of her own, far away from the others, and Feyre agreed. Y/n gave Feyre Truth-Teller to return to Azriel, but Feyre hesitated, hoping that Y/n might be willing to give it back herself- maybe even talk, show some emotion. So Feyre suggested she give it to him directly. Y/n took the blade without a word and left the house.

“Where are you going?” Feyre asked, watching her intently.

“To find a house.”

“You’re going to walk all the way? I can winnow you to the city.”

“I don’t want your help.” If they thought the Y/n they knew was cold and heartless, they were in for a shock with this new Y/n. 

Azriel found her that evening, after Feyre had told him what happened. She was wandering through the city, her gaze blank, unfocused. 

“Hey,” he greeted softly, but she brushed past him, her attention elsewhere. “Feyre is worried about you. We should head home.”

Usually, she’d retort with something like. “That’s not my home,” or argue with him, but now she remained silent.

Finally, she turned to face him, her icy blue-gray eyes meeting his, and held out Truth-Teller for him to take without a word. As his scarred hand brushed hers, he noticed her fingers were cold as ice. 

“You’re freezing,” he murmured, concern tightening his features. She simply turned and began walking again, but he reached out, gently grasping her wrist and pulling her back around to face him. “Y/n, talk to me. Say something, anything. Just, please, don’t-”

“I don’t feel cold,” she replied, her voice flat, though she didn’t pull her hand from his grip as she met his hazel eyes.

“You’ll catch a cold if you keep going like this. I’m taking you home,” he insisted.

“I want to walk,” she said, her tone barely softening. It was the most she’d said to him in days, so he agreed, keeping close to her. 

Once they reached the Town House, Y/n informed Feyre she’d found a place. Feyre agreed to let her move in on one condition: Y/n was to stay at the Town House for a week, eat regularly, and only then, once Feyre was satisfied she was alright, could she leave. Y/n said nothing and headed upstairs to her room. 

“And we should be able to see you at least once a day,” Feyre added as Y/n climbed the stairs.

And so began the week of forced togetherness. Since Feyre didn’t specify how many times she’d need to eat, Y/n chose the bare minimum. She would come down once a day, eat either lunch or dinner, and then retreat back to her room without a word. 

On the third day, everyone was gathered around the table for dinner when Y/n entered. Since it was the last meal of the day and she hadn’t come down for breakfast or lunch, she was compelled to sit with them. To everyone’s surprise, she took a seat next to Cassian.

“Missed me? Because I sure missed you,” Cassian tried, throwing her a playful grin, but she neither looked at him nor replied. “Come on, Y/n. By now, I would’ve expected to say something snarky or insulting… nothing?... Does that mean I finally won?” He leaned forward, trying to provoke a reaction, but she just looked at him, expression unreadable.

“Pass me the salt.” Her voice was even, unfeeling.

“Say please,” he taunted, his lips curling in a grin, but she ignored him, quietly starting to eat. Feyre shook her head subtly, warning him not to push any further. Cassian relented, handing her the salt. 

“You’re welcome,” he said, though his smile faded as he studied her still, expressionless face.

Rhys was recounting a light-hearted story, trying to lift the mood, until someone jokingly mentioned his death and resurrection by the High Lords. Y/n froze. She hadn’t known. She knew nothing of what happened after the King of Hybern’s death. She hadn’t heard about Amren turning into a High Fae, or how Rhys had sacrificed his life, or how close they’d come to losing even with the King defeated. She didn’t know where Feyre and her sisters had buried their father, or about the treaty discussion that followed, bridging peace between the courts and the courts and the mortal realm. She had known none of it- and didn’t care to, but hearing how Rhys got a second chance struck a nerve.

“So you and your mate get to live, while everyone else who sacrificed their lives remains dead and forgotten,” she said, her voice cutting as she turned to Feyre. “Tell me, why do you deserve to live while they do not?”

Silence blanketed the table. No one seemed to know how to respond. But she went on, her voice low and hard. “You all act as if nothing happened, but if he’d stayed dead, I doubt any of you would be laughing now. You want me to come down and sit and eat with you, but if it had been your mate who died, I wonder if you’d be able to do the same.” She set down her fork and stood, her expression still unreadable, before turning to leave the room.

“Y/n, no one expects you to go back to normal. You have suffered so much,” Feyre said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “I wasn’t trying to force you into anything.”

“Yet you put these conditions on me when all I want is to be left in peace,” Y/n replied, her tone weary and final as she turned and disappeared back up the stairs.

Rhys reached for Feyre’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Give her time,” he murmured, attempting to reassure her.

On the evening before Y/n’s planned departure, it was Nesta who came to see her.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me here with them?” she asked, standing by the door, her tone wavering between anger and vulnerability.

You didn’t turn to look at her, her gaze fixed outside the window. “You are your own woman now. If you don’t want to stay, then don’t.” 

“So that’s it, then? You’re going to abandon me again?” Nesta’s voice broke slightly, her fists clenched at her sides.

Y/n’s gaze remained unfocused, her words sharp. “I never abandoned you, but if that’s how you want to see it, then so be it. I don’t owe you an explanation.” Her tone was cold, far harsher than she’d ever spoken to Nesta before.

Nesta’s face hardened, her eyes narrowing. “You’re a coward. Running away again, just like back then. Instead of facing your problems.”

“Is that what you tell yourself before bed? That I ran away?”Y/n’s voice grew colder, a bitter smile playing on her lips. “What about you, Nesta? Where were you when Feyre risked her life, hunting to keep you alive?”

Silence stretched between them, thick and painful. 

Finally, Nesta’s voice softened, a hint of raw honesty breaking through her frustration. ”I need you, Y/n. We just lost our father.”

Y/n’s lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “Don’t pretend you care now. You hated the old man. Or are you feeling guilty because, in the end, he still loved us, no matter what?” Her words were cruel, and even as she said them, she felt a strange emptiness behind them. Nesta’s face fell, and her mouth opened and closed as she processed the words. She had never expected Y/n to say something like that to her, she was heartbroken.

After a beat, Nesta’s eyes hardened, and she uttered words she regretted the moment they left her lips. “You want to talk about guilt? What about you, huh? You let them die. You had all this power inside of you, and instead of using it, you did nothing. You just watched, waited until they were dead, and then you struck. It’s almost as if you wanted them to die.”

Nesta’s words struck Y/n like a blow, and for a moment, her carefully constructed mask cracked. “You’re right,” she said bitterly, voice low. “I did let them die. I failed them, and now… I just don’t care. You, Elain, Feyre, you can take care of yourselves. I am done trying to protect you. Mother knows I did a bad enough job of it as it is.” She let out a huff, dismissing the pain in her own words.

“You did,” Nesta whispered, her voice breaking as tears pooled in her eyes.

Y/n looked at her coldly, her voice quiet but cutting. “You’re no longer my responsibility. And I wish you’d stop being my weakness.” 

Nesta’s face crumpled, a single tear slipping down her cheek as she turned and walked away, leaving Y/n alone in her room. It was the last time they would speak to each other for a very long time.

After Y/n moved into her own apartment, Nesta soon did the same. Neither of them interacted with anyone from their past lives, but at least Nesta would meet Feyre briefly every month. Though their reasons for isolation were similar, each went down their own path of self-destruction. Nesta frequented bars, either drinking herself to sleep or fucking her way into exhaustion with reckless company. Y/n, on the other hand, brought the chaos to her doorstep. Each night, she invited people over, and they partied until sunrise, indulging in every dangerous substance she could get her hands on.

In the past, she’d avoided even casual drinking, saying it dulled the mind and that she needed to be alert, in control. Now, she wanted nothing more than to escape her own thoughts, to numb every feeling, to let go of everything. It began the day she moved out. She’d gone to a bar and asked for the strongest drink they had. The bartender sensing her desperation introduced her to someone with access to stronger poisons. Soon after, she met others who reveled in the same reckless abandon, who didn't care about anything either. When they discovered her identity, they were wary, but she assured them that as long as they didn’t cross her, they had nothing to worry about- no threats from a certain High Lord. The wild gatherings became a nightly ritual. People came to her place, taking all manner of poisons, but no one dared to touch her without permission. She was repulsed by physical contact; even a friendly brush would make her recoil. Yet, as she saw it, life was good- an endless cycle of highs and freedom from responsibility, a blissfully numb existence.

One day, Feyre visited, hoping to explain the Fae cycle to Y/n and offer her help when the time came. But Y/n dismissed her, saying she’d handle it herself and that it was none of Feyre’s concern. She made it clear she didn’t want Feyre;s or anyone else’s assistance and even told her to not contact her unless absolutely necessary. Feyre, unsure of what else to do, convinced herself this was Y/n’s way of healing.

As Winter Solstice approached, Rhys found himself standing on Y/n’s doorsteps. She opened the door, half asleep, assuming it was one of her usual party guests. But when she saw who it was, her body went rigid. 

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice flat.

“Solstice is in a few days. I- we expect you to be there,” he replied, his tone firm.

“To hell with that,” she scoffed, leaning against the doorframe, barely meeting his gaze.

“It’s your sister’s birthday. You owe her that much.”

“I owe her nothing.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed. “She’s paying for your apartment and…other activities, whatever they are. If you don’t come, those payments stop.”

Y/n’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “Fine. Family reunion it is. Yay, can’t wait.” She let out a bitter laugh before slamming the door in his face.

Conveniently, Y/n and Nesta arrived at the same time, neither of them acknowledging the other. Inside, the others were exchanging gifts , laughter filling the room until they noticed the two standing by the door. Feyre hurried over to open it, offering to take Nesta’s coat. Y/n, however, wasn’t wearing one despite the snow blanketing the ground outside. Elain appeared in the foyer, linking her arm through Nesta’s and leading her toward the living room. Y/n and Feyre exchanged a quick look before Feyre guided her twister inside. 

“I’m glad you came.” Feyre said softly.

“I had no choice,” Y/n replied, her tone indifferent.

By the fireplace, Azriel’s gaze fixed on Y/n, his hazel eyes brightening at the sight of her. His shadows trailed after her, drawn to her presence. Though she looked worn, there was at least a hint of color to her cheeks, a sign of life he hadn’t seen the last time she’d stayed. Back then, she’d seemed like a ghost- just breathing, merely existing. 

“We were just starting with presents” Elain announced to her sisters, giving Y/n and Nesta a warm smile.

After wishing Feyre a happy birthday, Nesta began a brief conversation with her, speaking in low tones. The others gradually resumed exchanging gifts, the festive atmosphere returning. Elain handed Y/n a small package from herself and Feyre, and Feyre offered another to Nesta. 

“I don’t need anything,” Y/n muttered, eyeing the package with reluctance.

“It’s a gift. Just take it,” Elain insisted gently, her eyes hopeful. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”

Y/n noted her sister’s excitement and let out a quiet sigh. “You seem more interested than I am… fine, I’ll open it.” As she removed the wrapping, she revealed a simple, embroidered navy-blue gown. 

“You always liked handmade gifts,” Elain said, a hint of pride in her voice. “Feyre designed the pattern, and I embroidered it.”

Y/n studied the gown, her expression unreadable. “I see… I didn't bring anything for you” she replied quietly.

“You’re here. That’s enough.” Elain’s voice softened, her words laced with relief.

As the gift-giving continued, Azriel took the opportunity to move closer to Y/n. He’d hidden a gift for her, something he’d intended to give her ever since he’d found it at the Dawn Court when things between them had been good, or as good as they could be. Seeing her reaction to her sisters’ gift, he realized this wasn’t the moment. Still, he couldn’t resist the urge to speak with her, to hear her voice directed at him once more. Though his shadows had kept him updated on her wellbeing, he hadn't seen her since the day she left.

“Happy Solstice,” he murmured, his gaze steady, searching her face.

She glanced at him briefly, her expression impassive. ”Nothing happy about it.” Sheshifted away from him, choosing a seat beside Elain and remaining silent.

As the evening wore on and everyone began to tire, Y/n muttered a quiet goodbye to Elain before heading toward the door. Feyre followed, handing her a slip of paper.

“Here. Payment for rent,” she said softly.  

Y/n accepted it without a word, slipping it into her pocket as she exited.

Moments later, Azriel appeared at her side, a coat in his hand. “You didn’t bring anything to keep warm. Here,” he said, extending it to her.

She looked at the coat, then at him, her gaze cool. “I’m not cold.” She turned, begging to walk away. 

Ignoring her protest, Azriel draped the coat around her shoulders, his voice gentle but firm. “Even so, you’ll catch a cold. I’ll walk you home.”

“Get back, Spymaster.” The title was cold, distant. She’d only called him that once before- when they first met, when he was nothing more than a stranger to her. Since then, he’d gotten used to her calling him Shadowsinger, the name laced with familiarity, even warmth. And on the battlefield, when she had finally called him by his name, it had melted his heart. But ever since that day, she had barely spoken more than a word or two to him. From sleeping on his chest before battle to treating him like a stranger now- it shattered him. 

“I will, once you’re home safe.”

“I don’t want your company.” Her voice was flat, devoid of the spark he once knew.

Azriel’s jaw clenched. “Aren’t you tired of all this?” His tone sharpened with a mix of frustration and desperation.

“What I am tired of is you and your family. Why can’t you all just leave me alone?” She narrowed her eyes, her words like a wall she was intent on building. “I was perfectly fine on my own.”

“Fine? You mean the partying and taking every poison you can find, just to see which one will be the one that finally kills you?”

Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Ah, so you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Of course I have. Did you think I’d stand by and let you go down this path without even checking on you?” His voice softened, a hint of pain slipping through.

She let out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Stop- just stop. I need you to stop caring.”

“Why?” His voice held an edge of anger now. “Because if I, Mother forbid, or anyone else tries to get close to you, you’ll push us away?”

“You’ve got it aaall figured out, don’t you?” She forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow.

“Come back to the house.” There was a plea in his voice he couldn’t suppress.

She snorted, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be part of your happy family. Stop trying to make me fit in.” With a defiant motion, she let the coat fall from her shoulders and land on the snow-dusted ground. 

“That’s not what I-”

“I want to be left alone. What I do with my life is none of your business.” Her voice grew colder, words clipped. “If I choose to waste it, it’s my choice. Stop following me, and don’t send your shadows after me again.”

Azriel’s face softened with hurt as he reached for her hand. “Don’t shut me out. You used to-” But as soon as his fingers brushed hers, she recoiled, her eyes narrowing, a shiver visibly running through her. For the first time, she could see the heartbreak on his face, the pain her reaction had caused. 

“What I used to be is in the past. The Y/n you knew is dead. Move on.” She turned her face away, her voice lowering. “There are things better left unsaid. Don’t make me say things that will hurt you.”

His expression hardened, masking the pain her words had caused. “You’ve already done that. So go ahead. Say what you want.”

Her eyes met his, cold and unyielding. “You’re not worth my time.” She shook her head, walking away from him and disappearing into the dark streets. 

But he followed in silence, staying in the shadows, his heart heavy. And though he moved unseen, she knew he was there- she could feel him, a silent presence lurking in the dark.

Tags: : @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever @stained-glass-eyes0708 @slytherintaco @aehllita @nebarious  @t0uch-starved-h0e @bravo-delta-eccho  @sylvermoon @going-through-shit @latinxbipride @i-am-infinite @azrielrot @fuckingsimp4azriel @theravenphoenix26 @hanatsuki-hime @fantanbietsson @rcarbo1 @weasleymagic @secretsicanthideanymore @spymaster03

[olenvasynyt]

I have always been uncomfortable with the SF scene where Cassian takes Nesta on the hike, but I didn't fully understand why until my most recent reread. And it is one of the reasons why I am anti-Nessian.

This is a summary of my tiktok video, feel free to check it out, and follow me over there as well if ya want.

So this hike was right after Nesta lashes out and tells Feyre that the baby was going to kill her during the birth, and this was because of her frustration and hate towards Rhys and the IC and how she has been treated.  

Chapter 46 of ACOSF: “Is it respect that she offers you?” Nesta spat.  “Is it respect that your mate offers you?” Feyre went still. … “What do you mean?” “Have any of them told you, their respected High Lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?” “…I do know that your mate ordered everyone not to inform you about the truth.  Did you all vote on that too?  Did you talk to her, judger her, and deem her unworthy of the truth?”

It broke something in Nesta—broke that rage, that roaring—seeing those tears begin to fall, the fear crumbling Feyre’s paint-smeared face.   She had gone too far.  She..oh, gods.

But as Feyre and Cassian both point out, she saw the parallels between Feyre’s situation and her own, and decided to avenge both of them.  Rhys and Amren were hiding the truth about Nesta’s powers, she knew that a lot of them did not trust her to know the truth about her own body.  

Chapter 47 of ACOSF: I think she saw the parallels between your situations, and, in her own way, decided to avenge both of you. That’s my feeling too.  Rhys disagrees.

I think Feyre’s situation was much more serious than Nesta’s powers being kept from her, but that is also why it was good for Feyre to find out the truth even if the situation was upsetting.  

Cassian was like oh "I’m sorry you found out the baby could kill you" and Feyre was like "I’m not.  I’m mad at you guys for not telling me.  Nesta was the only one brave enough to."

Chapter 47 of ACOSF: “I’m sorry you had to learn of it.” “I’m not.  I’m furious with all of you, I understand why you didn’t tell me, but I’m furious. Well, we’re furious with Nesta. She had the courage to tell me the truth. She told the truth to hurt you. Perhaps.  But she was the only one who said anything. — I wish you’d found out a different way. Well, I didn’t.  But we’ll face it together.  All of us. — I want you to come back home.  Both of you.

I love how Feyre, who is the one was the victim in this moment, was like “I’m not sorry this was how I learned about the baby but I’m glad someone told me.  Rhys overreacted, I calmed him down and I want both of you home.”

Rhys overreacted.  He completely and utterly overreacted. — Rhys had no right to chase you from the city, or threaten Nesta.  He has realized that, and apologized.  I want you to come back home.  Both of you.  

Now kind of going off topic with Rhys threatening to kill Nesta: people get mad at Cassian for not standing up for his mate.  And I can understand that, I also think that’s frustrating and Cassian not standing up for Nesta is something we see often, including the Ember and Randall bonus chapter in HOFAS.  But it can be complicated because a lot of people will defend Cassian like this: Rhys is high lord and it will be very hard to stand up to him as someone who’s not on his level, so of course Cassian couldn’t do anything to defend his mate in this situation.  And yes this is true, and we see a very similar situation between a High Lord and their superior with Tamlin and Lucien in ACOMAF. Lucien tried to stand up for Feyre but couldn’t, and was shut down and abused. 

But if people are going to use this idea to defend Cassian, that he couldn’t stand up and fight his high lord, we have to make this comparison between  Rhys to Tamlin.  And a lot of pro-Rhys people don't like that conversation.

But anyways, this argument cannot be applied to this hiking situation at all, because Feyre mindspeaks with Cassian and says that Rhys overreacted, she isn’t mad at Nesta, all of those things I talked about before.  Feyre says that she wants both of them home but Cassian still brings Nesta to a hike and says he’ll call it a punishment to sort of appease Rhys because he knows Rhys is still mad about the situation.  “Tell Rhys it’s a punishment.”  Rhys was not the victim in this situation, Feyre was, and she was like fuck Rhys!  He was wrong for overreacting!  Nesta was braver than you guys and I want her home.  

Where did you even head off to? The wilderness.  I think we’ll stay out here for a few days.  We’re going on a hike.   Nesta has never been on a hike in her life.  I guarantee she will hate it. Then tell Rhys this is her punishment.  Because Rhys, despite apologizing for his threats, would still be furious.  Tell him that Nesta and I are going to hike, and she’s going to hate it, but she comes home when I decide she’s ready to come home.

But Cassian still brings Nesta on the hike.

And he was definitely doing it for Nesta and to help her work out her thoughts and not solely because of Rhys, but this hike is a terrible way to help a suicidal person work out their thoughts.

This hike pisses me off so much. The way the IC decided to “rehabilitate” Nesta in general pisses me off.  I liken Nesta’s “rehab” to those therapy wilderness camps where people get kidnapped and brought to the middle of the mountains for.  Those rehab camps revolve around forcing people to get to their lowest to rehabilitate, to acknowledge their mistakes, and it is a horrible, abusive system and very often results in resentment at best and death at worst.  And I think Nesta being locked up was the same thing and this hike is the same thing.  One of the several things those rehab boot camps do is force their patients to go on strenuous hikes for multiple days, and when it’s beyond their physical capacity.  It can lead to exhaustion, dehydration, injury, and death.

And one of my least favorite things in this entire book is that when Cassian realizes that Nesta is suicidal, he continues the hike up the rocky cliffs of the Illyrian Steppes with barely any food and even less talk.  He doesn’t look at her or speak to her in days.

It is to force Nesta to get to her lowest moment so she’ll break down.  Exactly like what happens during those rehab camps.  It is forcing her into this breakdown in an unsafe place with no professional help. 

Cassian knew that Nesta often hated herself.  But he’d never known she hated herself enough to want to…not exist anymore. He’d seen her expression when he mentioned the threat of falling. And he knew going back to Velaris wouldn’t save her from that look.  He couldn’t save her from that look, either. Only Nesta could save herself from that feeling.

When I read SF for the first time I was so weirded out by this hike and I couldn’t figure out why.  I do not find these chapters moving or inspiring, I thought they were toxic and sad and I still very much do.  And if I’m going to be honest I felt like I was also being manipulated into getting emotional like how Nesta was.  

And this is where I’m going to get into my criticisms for SJM.  

I don’t know if she realizes this comparison between Nesta’s rehabilitation in general and the boot camps and just, bad, toxic therapy in general.  I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt because I think a lot of Silver Flames is about how the Valkyries helped heal Nesta and SJM and their hike during the Blood Rite was so much more inspiring at least for me and was definitely the climax and resolution to Nesta’s healing journey.  SJM illudes to the IC’s biases very often in SF and I thought she was making Nesta’s rehab toxic on purpose, but the reason why I struggle with giving SJM the benefit of the doubt is because she said in an interview that that hike Cassian took Nesta on was inspired by a hike she and her husband went on during a vacation.

I also hate how she adds the idea that the mountains are healing, and there is a voice telling Cassian to keep pushing Nesta forward, “just one more mountain”.  Like no.  This again adds to the comparison of the fucking bootcamps because that is also a tactic they use.

Chapter 48 of ACOSF: The peaks weren’t as brutal and sharp as those in Illyria, but there was a presence to them that he couldn’t quite explain.  Mor had once told him that long ago, these lands had been used for healing. Perhaps that was why he’d come.  Some instinct had remembered the healing, felt this land’s slumbering heart, and decided to bring Nesta here.

This is fantasy, of course, so I am fine with this element of a higher presence that is healing to the characters who are struggling.  And there is the symbolic element of climbing your mountain.  But I need people to stop saying that this is a realistic way to treat people with actual problems in the real world, not only with this hike but also with all of the rehabilitation the IC made her do by locking her up.  I might make a whole other video on that but if Nesta was in the House of Wind because she was addicted to alcohol and fucking strangers and spending money, this is not the professional way to go about it.  

I like a lot of parts during this final breakdown where they talk about forgiving yourself, leaving the past behind.  But I did not like the journey they made Nesta take to get to this point.  Nesta could have very well had this breakdown not on this hike.  

And this part ends with Cassian comforting Nesta. 

“I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he whispered into her palm.  “Just don’t lock me out.  You want to walk in silence for a week, I’m fine with that.  So long as you talk to me at the end of it.”

Like I appreciate this sentiment.  

But, another thing that annoys me is Cassian’s conclusion after this scene

Chapter 50 of ACOSF: “She’d been suffering, and he’d had no idea how much it consumed every facet of her life.  He’d seen her self-loathing and anger—but hadn’t realized how much she’d been aware of it.  To know she’d hurt this much, for so long.

First of all, how would Nesta not know she was aware of her self-loathing and anger?  She had actively talked about it before this moment??? She fucking has. And how did Cassian not know that she had been hurting this much for long long?  I thought he was her mate who understood her?  He talked about her traumas before in ACOWAR.  Plus, I thought she was being rehabilitated.  Helping her get not addicted to alcohol and spending money and having sex?  

There is such a lack of awareness when it comes to the IC and this situation and I get frustrated when readers don’t understand it.  People say that Nesta’s rehab was very serious and complex but no.  It wasn’t.  It is a terrible way to help anyone.  

I think Nesta and Cassian still have to work on a lot to be an actual healthy relationship.  And we saw the issues they still have in the Randall and Ember bonus chapter so I am very curious to see how SJM resolves their issues in future books, if she does so at all.

[gaysindistress]

Limits of a Fae Heart - four

Pairings: Azriel x Reader Summary: With war looming over their heads, the Inner Circle is desperate for a solution. The one they found comes in the form of a resurrected female who’s fated to not only their Shadowsinger but once to their enemy as well. Word count: 3.9k Warnings: mentions of past abuse (but no detailed descriptions), suggestive themes, things are heating upppp. One | two | three | five | six taglist: @dr4g0ngirl @isa1b2h3

Stern and tight voices make their way from downstairs to my room. I try to ignore them however the high pitches of their concern makes it hard to drown them out. Having finished bathing and scrubbing the blood from my skin some time ago, my hair is mostly dried so I leave it down as I dress. Clad in a pair of fitted high waisted black trousers and a simple black halter top, I make the awful decision to find out what the voices are talking about. 

Elain, Nesta, and Mor are sharing the sitting room couch while a red haired male stands by a window. Rhys and Feyre are against opposing doorways while Cassian and Azriel are between them. The sight of Rhys makes my skin crawl after my encounter earlier but I push down as I quietly descend the stairs barefoot. The shadows take notice of my entrance and start to grow restless causing a scene as Azriel hisses under his breath at them to behave. 

Feyre smiles at me and turns to face me while the rest of them simply watch me. While some are pleasant, they all view me with red tinted glasses and are guarded around me. I know the sight of me being so casual in their home makes them uncomfortable and even more so as my wings and scars catch the light. The red haired male peers at me through one russet colored eye and one golden mechanical eye. Nesta is stone faced and tight lipped as usual while Elain drifts from being a life sized doll to an unsettling wise woman. Mor lounges while Cassian watches his brother who is staring with a purpose at the wall. 

However none bother me more than Rhys at this moment.

With his Daemati talons, he’s trying to find a crack in my mental shields but to no avail. Add my earlier run in with the Ravens and to say I’m on edge is an understatement. The grating feeling of those talons against my mind is enough to make me forget my impulse control for half a second. I send him flashes of what happened on the rooftop as well as my time spent in between life and death. His violet eyes wide with what I think might be the closest thing to fear he’s let anyone see in years. If he wasn’t leaning against the doorway already, I’m sure the stumbling step back he takes would’ve sent him to the ground.

The entire room tenses and Feyre is at his side in the blink of an eye. She shoots me a fury filled look before her own caress touches my shields. The other three males have turned and are ready to attack if needed although it seems to pain Azriel to do so. 

I decide it’s better to not do the same to Feyre and simply shove her out. I take her place against the doorway, leaning against it with my arms crossed and wings drawn in tight. No one says anything and with how thick the air is, it appears that they’re all waiting for my explanation. 

“Next time I won’t be so gentle,” I inform Rhys with a saccharine smile while inspecting my nails.

“You were attacked and didn’t tell us,” he states, intentionally choosing to ignore my comment. Shadows dance nervously around the room and a few brave their way towards me. I let them come closer but my arms remain crossed over my chest and offer them no welcome to climb further. It concerns them more than anything and their chirping silence fills the room with unease.

I rolls my eyes at the way that everyone stands on even higher alert, “I handled it didn’t I?”

“That’s not the point.”

“So what is then?” I casually ask and the shadows curl around my legs, acting as a sort of armor. “You all knew already so why does it matter if I wasn’t the one to share that information?”

Rhys’ jaw tightens at my words and and so does the thread in my chest. My eyes dart to Azriel and there’s something sharp to his silence. He’s usually quiet and reserved but there’s an edge to the utter stillness and silence about him right now.

“We need to have trust between us. We can’t let…”

I cut Rhys off, “Trust? That’s an awfully big request considering our situation but the wrong one nonetheless. We don’t need to trust each other, we don’t even have to tolerate each other. All we need is an understanding; if you get what you want and I get what I want, then we’re all good. You brought me here to kill the King of Hybern and I’ll do that but only if you agree to leave me the fuck alone afterwards. I don’t think that’s too much to ask now is it?”

“You can’t…”

“I don’t think that’s too much to ask now is it? Or is this your way of telling me that you’re the one that can’t be trusted? I hope that you’re smarter than to try to pull one over me because the moment that I catch wind of anything untoward, I will make Velaris bleed.”

Cassian steps forward but Rhys holds his hand out and stops him. They share a look, more than likely speaking to each other via Rhys’ daemti abilities and stand down. Feyre steps up beside him, the perfect image of the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court.

“Do not threaten my city or my family. You are not as irreplaceable as you’d like to think.”

“The same can be said for you.” I almost laughed as I said those words but Azriel kills the sound in my throat. The bastard tugs on the thread that connects us and sends a shiver through my body. The shadows around me hug closer as my wings flare out against my will and I hit my back hard against the doorway. 

He’s moved to stand in front of me as well as moved his shadows to do the same, effectively blocking us from everyone. 

“What are you doing?” I hiss at him although it sounds far more breathless than I intended. My body feels foreign; tingly and warm while fighting to remain frigid and distant. The heated memory of our kiss is still fresh on my lips while the image of his disbelief face flashes in my mind. 

“Stand down,” he whispers to me like I’m a cornered feral dog, “I don’t feel like cleaning up Cassian or Rhy’s blood.”

This infuriating male gazes down at me with all of the tenderness that I don’t deserve….i don’t… I don’t want it.

“Bold of you to assume you can command me,” I hiss at him and my wings twitch against the door frame. While he’s significantly taller than me, our wings stand at the same height. They’re almost perfect mirror images of each other, as if we were meant to be mates.

Shit.

Now staring at him, trying to be irate with him, the bond finds a way to make me want his tender heart and his sweet lips. It makes me want his coy smile and gentle touch. It forces me to want it all and it vibrates with joy. 

It’s rather quickly ruined by a wave of concern and subtle anger as Azriel’s eyes move from my face to my exposed skin. Raised red marks and indented brown ones litter my shoulders, arms, and back. His matching hands reach out for my arms. 

Our shadows fall away and reveal my room instead of the crowded one downstairs. The dark creatures find their place against the door, acting as a barrier between us and them. The male before me grasps my arms with such care and affection that it threatens to make my anger melt. He holds my elbows and turns my arms so they face up and he can actually look at the scars. A poignant sadness is etched into his features as he memorizes every little blemish. 

My wings quiver nervously when we make eye contact. I have to crane my head up to look at him with how tall he is. He’s taller than any other fae I’ve ever met and far more handsome as well. The beauty that lays effortlessly in his features makes even the world’s natural beauty look dull. His brothers are handsome but this male, Azriel, is ethereal and my soul is inexplicably tied to his. 

“Did he do this to you?” He finally asks with an intensity I wasn’t expecting. 

I can only nod, suddenly feeling the will to be stubborn and hardened fall away. He shakes his head and his grip grows firmer as he steps closer to me. I expected him to pull me into him but the fact that he was the one to close the distance feels too intimate. I make a half decent attempt to pull away and he loosens his grip, still keeping our eyes locked. There’s another lighter tug on our bond, this time it’s more of a question than a distraction. 

“Is this okay?” It seems to ask. 

Shaking my head, I pull away entirely but stay in my place. “No amount of kind gestures will convince me to accept the bond.”

“Reject it then.”

Confused hurt flashes across my face, “excuse me?”

“Reject the bond then. If that’s how you’ll accept my ‘kind gestures’ as you put it, then reject it.”

“You asked me not to only a few hours ago.”

“And I’m seeing now that I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t right of me to ask you to do something that’s already caused you so much pain,” his voice cracks slightly however he remains strong in his certainty. 

I can’t help the green envy that licks up my spine, “I suppose the youngest sister has nothing to do with your sudden change of heart.”

Azriel has the audacity to look offended. “Elain has nothing to do with this.”

“Elain,” I sneer at him and take that damning step towards him. He stays quiet and allows me to say whatever cruel thing I can think of to push him away. He takes my anger and makes it into light that spreads across our unaccepted bond. The fact that we can feel so much more than I did with the King spins webs of confusion in my heart. Nothing with Azriel feels the way it did with the King and I don’t know why. 

“I thought I might’ve felt something for her before I met you but I’ve realized that it was nothing more than platonic feelings. She knows that and she understands that nothing will ever happen between us.”

“Friends don’t rush to your side like that.”

His face breaks into a small smile, “maybe not but I didn’t notice. You were the only one I was looking at.”

That takes me by surprise. I find my resolve starting to crack even more as he continues to shock me. My mind races with a thousand thoughts and I can’t pick a single one to focus on. Instead what falls out is something I wish wouldn’t have, “Rejecting it could drive you into madness.”

Azriel steps closer, bridging our gap so we’re almost chest to chest now. He brushes my hair over my shoulders and cups my neck as he brings out foreheads together. My hands fly up to his chest, ready to shove him away if needed. 

“I’d rather live in madness than see you suffer like this.”

“You can’t mean that,” I breathe out as my eyes flutter closed to stop the tears from falling. 

“I already told you that I want only what you want. I will do anything you ask of me without any questions. If this is what you want, then it is what I want.”

The this feels like a double edged sword; this as in accepting him or this as in rejecting him. 

Our noses bump against each other and Azriel lets out a content sigh. I can feel his eyes close as his lashes brush against my cheek bone. The hand on my neck slides up until his thumb is under my jaw and is gently rubbing against my jaw bone. The sensation causes a tingling shiver to overcome me and my skin breaks out in goosebumps. I wasn’t aware of my hands sliding up his chest until they found their home playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. I didn’t feel his free hand on my hip until it digs into the soft skin there and urges us impossibly closer. 

“What do you want, sweet girl?” He whispers against my lips. They’re warm and soft and teasing and oh by the cauldron my brain ceases to work. I’m not even sure how my lungs are able to function either. All I know is that I can’t say the words so I push up on my toes and smash our lips together.

As if this male couldn’t get under my skin anymore, he moans into our kiss and drags me flush against his chest. The leather of his fighting gear is cold against my skin but it does nothing to soothe the feverish burn I’m starting to feel. 

Azriel lets me lead, keeping his kiss gentle but no less firm and passionate than mine. The hand on my waist drifts to my lower back and brushes past my wings in the process causing them to writhe in its wake. My own pathetic moan slips out and my hand grips at his hair, tugging it as I kiss him harder. His tongue finds its opportunity to slip in and I gladly welcome it by opening my lips to allow our tongues to mingle. 

Breathing feels more like a burden as it forces us to part and we reluctantly pull away. I let my hands fall from his hair and rest them on his chest. He softly guides me into his chest, letting the hand at my jaw slide back to my hair and the one at my back to wrap around my shoulders. I slide my own arms around his middle and cling to him as if we’ve been mated for years. He drops his head to rest on top of mine and I can feel his labored breaths against my hair. 

Our bond feels full and complete as we hold each other. 

Once, many years ago, I had dreamed of finding this and thought that I did in the King. I had been so full of hope and patience to make it work no matter how painful it was for me. For every token of affection I gave him, he returned it with insults, actions, and looks that were tenfold worse than before. I don’t know when I lost that part of me but I lost it so easily. It felt like it happened in a matter of days. One day that bright eyed and hopeful young Fae was there and then the next, gone. She slipped from my fingers like water does when you try to cup it. I hardly even noticed that she wasn’t there until it was too late and I couldn’t get her back but then I realized I didn’t want her back. She fell from me like a teacup that dropped onto an unforgiving kitchen floor. One day we were laughing and smiling at the sky and the next day, gone. It was like she was never even there to begin with. She walked right out and never turned back, leaving me to try and cope with the aftermath of her dreams. She left me when I needed her the most. I needed her to guide me through the years of abuse that I suffered at the hands of a male I thought I was Fated for. I needed her to stay and help me push through so that I could find a way to have the life she planned for me. 

I had resigned myself to a life of agony and caring for scars that would never truly heal. That was until the moment I saw Azriel. That was the moment I realized that everything I had believed for so long could’ve been wrong. When I saw this beautiful creature with twinkling eyes, soft lips, delicate cheeks, a perfect nose, and glowing skin emerge from the shadows, my reality shifted. When that bond snapped, I couldn’t imagine that this magnificently and terrifying beautiful male felt it too. I knew that I would never be satisfied with just being near him. I need him more than I would need myself. 

But when I so awfully told him that we were mates, I saw that look in his eye; it had snapped. There was a chance I could have him and he could have me. I could love him and watch the sunlight dances across his skin as he looks at me with the same adoration in his eyes. I could tell him about the admiration that runs so deeply that I don't know where it ends and I begin. The moment that that realization hit me, it shattered my reality and ran away to lick my wounds in isolation. 

Now as I hear his heartbeat and feel his breath in my hair, I can’t fathom why I would do such a thing. 

“It’s time to wake up.”

Blinding pain bursts through my body as I take my first breath of air after waking up. My lungs seize for a moment and I gasp for breath while I shoot forward on my bedroll. The calming scent of the forest and mist wrap itself around me as I slowly regain my senses. A small chuckle drifts from beside me and its owner makes a poor attempt to hide his smile as he pretends to dig around in his pack. 

“Say another word and I’ll slit your throat,” I mumble as I sit up and drag a cold hand over my face. 

“Wow you’ve just woken up and you’re already snapping at people. That’s a new record for you,” Cassian says with a sarcastic chuckle as he enters the pathetic excuse for a tent. 

I’m blinded by the sunlight that he lets in but I welcome its warmth after having slept on the freezing ground for the last couple of nights. Azriel moves to sit beside me and offers a thick sweater as well as some food to me as he tells his brother to kindly shut up. 

“Unless you want her to snap you, I’d suggest you leave her alone until she’s had time to…” he pauses for a second and glances down at me with a breathtaking smile, “to process that you’re real and not a figment of her imagination.” 

“You know, I thought when you found your mate that she would make you friendlier and generally a warmer person but this one has had the opposite effect on you.”

Azriel is still smiling at me and I can only handle his open affection for so long. Quickly, I pull the sweater that is absolutely his as it smells just like him and settle my bored gaze on Cassian. 

“Or you’ve just gotten more annoying and he’s fed up with it.”

Cassian gaps at me and looks at Azriel for help who just shrugs his shoulders. “I’m deeply wounded that you think I’m annoying. I’m a pleasure to be around. I am a delightful person once you get to know me.”

“As I am,” I throw back at him with my own small smile. Cassian doesn’t catch it as he leaves us but the male next to me does.

Azriel doesn’t say anything but his gentle actions towards me tell me that he saw it. He takes my hands, rolls up the sleeves of the sweater, and pulls my hair out of the collar. A shiver races down my spine as his fingers brush against my skin and his smile grows into a smirk. It falters as he catches a glimpse of the raised lines that trail across my shoulders and neck before disappearing under his sweater. I thought it would be better to hide my wings while we were on our little mission. I refused to let Rhys or Feyre near them, choosing to use an elixir that a healer made for me in Velaris. The effects would only last for a few days but having them visible and therefore vulnerable isn’t something I want. Besides that the only one I’d even let come within a ten foot radius of them would be Azriel; a fact I haven’t told him but one he knows to be true in his heart.

The mission that we are on is one that I reluctantly agreed to. Rhys was given permission to search my mind for any information that they could use against the King but as I’d already told them, he found nothing of use. The Ravens that attacked me had not been the only ones in the city and they had unintentionally left a trail of breadcrumbs back to a war camp about 20 miles outside of Velaris. Rhys thought it would be worthwhile to send Cassian, Azriel, and myself to investigate and gather what information we could. I knew that it would be pointless and I tried to tell Rhys that but he didn’t seem exactly interested in hearing what I had to say.

Although I agreed to his mission, I made it clear that I would be calling the shots and that included having authority over his brothers. Cassian had a fit while Azriel didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Of course that incited teasing and banter from both Cassian and Rhys but Azriel held strong in his approval. 

“She knows the King the best. I’d trust her judgment more than anyone else’s,” he told them and my chest swelled with pride. 

Cassian challenged him by asking what if he didn’t agree with it and Azriel repeated his statement. 

“If I didn’t think I could fully trust and rely on her to do this, then I wouldn’t have bothered even telling you she existed.”

A part of me wanted to believe his sweet words but the other side told me that it was all an act to manipulate me. The bond between us, however, preened with warmth unlike before.

I find myself smiling as he softly calls my name and brings me back to the present. 

“Are you ready?” 

“Yeah,” I sigh and pull on my boots that were waiting for me next to my bedroll. After I finish tying the last one, I turn to see him still watching me with those twinkling eyes. “Can I help you?”

“May I kiss you?” 

My brows shoot up and I stare at him skeptically. He repeats his question as if I hadn’t heard it. 

Shaking my head, I tell him, “No I heard you. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Azriel dips his head down and tilts my chin up with his forefinger so he can look me in the eye. “It surprises you that I’d ask to kiss you?”

Words fail me as I search his face for a hint of something, anything at all that would tell him he’s being disingenuous. There’s nothing but those tempting plush lips and a hooded look to his eyes.

His smirk returns in full force and he draws me closer to whisper against my lips, “Why wouldn’t I want to kiss my sweet girl?”

“Because I’m not your sweet…” my thoughts trail off as my eyes flutter close and I take in a sharp breath at the feeling of his lips ghosting over mine. 

“You’re not what?” He pulls away just as I start to lean in and I nearly growl at him. 

“I’m not your sweet girl,” I growl as frustration grows inside of me.

The bond even sides with him and waves of several emotions flood me but the one that hits me the hardest is his desire. Flashes of white hot pleasure crash into me and I surge forward to capture his lips. He reciprocates eagerly and we both immediately get caught up in branding each other’s lips. I barely notice him leaning us backwards until my back hits my bedroll and he’s between my legs.

I become too preoccupied with the overwhelming feeling of him all around me and without thinking, I arch up into him drawing a heated moan from both of us. Azriel’s hands were firmly planted on either side of my head but after my moan slipped out, he dropped down to his forearm and is now holding my thigh against his hip in a bruising grp. He tentatively rolls his hips against mine, pressing his growing bulge against my core, and on instinct mine meets his and so begins the desperate dance of grinding hips. I feel a smirk tug on his lips at the wild movements of my hips. 

Arching my back and tightening my leg around his waist, I bit down on his bottom lip and as his hips stuttered with a drawn out moan, I smirk back at him. Before he can get his revenge, Cassian calls out for Azriel. He pulls away from me with a heavy sigh and drops his head into the croak of my neck. 

“Your dog is calling for you,” I say with a breathy chuckle and playful shove at his shoulders. The male above me groans but climbs to his feet and pulls me up with him. 

“He’s not a dog.”

“Fine your bat is calling for you.”

“Don’t let me hear you say that,” he chuckles while gazing down at me with desire. He presses a quick but powerful kiss to my lips with a promise “We’ll finish this later, sweet girl.”

“I’m not your sweet girl.”

“We’ll see about that.”

[shadowqueenjude]

Azriel is jealous of Lucien

Azriel is 100% jealous of Lucien and here is, in my opinion, why: 1. There's the obvious factor: he has a mate and Azriel does not (or so he thinks). He's jealous of Rhysand and Cassian for this but he still manages to be happy for them because they're his closest friends. But he perceives Lucien as this "outsider," yet he got a mate while Azriel did not. 2. Truthfully? Lucien and Azriel have many similarities, particularly when you consider their backstories. Both grew up in abusive households and have difficulty getting over females that are not their mates despite their conviction that they are (Jesminda and Mor). Both feel like outsiders, although it's wild that Azriel feels that way considering he has Rhys and Cass but whatever. They even both have scars as a result of unbearable cruelty. But while Azriel came out of that situation with unresolved anger issues and a tendency towards violence (as demonstrated during the High Lord's meeting) and a darkness to him, Lucien came out of that situation a gentleman, still managing to be kind and with an incredible amount of self-restraint and lightness to him (and typically opting for nonviolence). Azriel sees himself as a bad person and he resents the fact that Lucien still maintains himself as a good person despite it all. 3. Lucien was easily accepted as a part of the group as his true self (or that's what Azriel sees) while Azriel still feels like he can't be his true self. He admitted in the bonus chapter that he only lets Rhys see the full extent of his anger because Rhysand is the only one who can match it. So, he doesn't even show his full anger to Cassian or Feyre. And look at them during the solstice in ACOSF: Rhys sprawled in an armchair, and Cassian occupied a second armchair with Lucien leaning against it, arguing with them about something that seemed related to a sporting event.

vs Azriel: Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him.

Lucien, with his ability to talk with people, worked his magic on Rhysand and Cassian easily. Lucien, despite having to deal with the strain of the mating bond, is still managing to converse with them while their own best friend of centuries cannot bear the scent of Lucien's bond, even though the person most affected by it isn't him. 4. Azriel feels replaced by Lucien. He is the Inner Circle's spy, mainly, but he isn't good for much else if we're being honest. Lucien, on the other hand, can ALSO spy. Evidence: Lucien took a steadying breath, and I wondered—wondered if being emissary also meant being spymaster.

Apart from that, he has exceptional abilities with people. He was instantly seen working his magic when the IC was having difficulty working out a time and place for the High Lord meeting. He helped create the antidote for the faebane as well. Then there's Azriel's other use: being a warrior. Lucien is a warrior too. And he is so powerful that he was able to venture into the continent by himself where even Rhysand with all his power feared to tread and come back with a large army which was essential for their victory. And post-war, he is the one keeping Prythian together, along with his beloved older brother Eris. He had to give Lucien credit: the male was somehow able to move between his three roles—an emissary for the Night Court, ally to Jurian and Vassa, and liaison to Tamlin—and still dress immaculately. Then there is this from Azriel: “No. But we need to summon Lucien,” Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit. Elriels take this to be about Elain, but I actually believe this is further evidence of his complete and utter jealousy. It pains him to admit that the IC needs Lucien even more than they already did. With Lucien's increased role, Azriel's role further diminishes in Az's eyes. So when Azriel says he thinks "Lucien will never be good enough for her?" He is projecting his own feelings onto Lucien. Deep down he knows that he is completely and utterly wrong for Elain and that Lucien is 100% right for her. When he says that he'd "Defeat Lucien with little effort?" In his mind, it's a chance to regain some of his worth. He perceives that his only value to the IC is his spying and warrior abilities. He wants to prove that Lucien can't replace him because Azriel is better at these things. But in reality, he can't possibly believe he'd defeat the male who dominated Cassian with one word with little effort. Because even if he wasn't there for that moment, he knows Lucien survived the continent. He knows everything Lucien has been through and has definitely sparred with the guy. And we know Rhys agreed with him to keep him from getting any angrier or more frustrated. The beef between Azriel and Lucien is soooo one-sided. Lucien thinks of him as a decent dude! These two could be best friends if Azriel got over his dumb jealousy. But I don't care; I'm a Lucien stan for life and you'd better start treating my man right. Going through trauma is NOT an excuse to choke people or challenge them to blood duels. Lucien has gone through plenty and he hasn't even lashed out at anyone, even though he'd be completely valid for doing so. Learn from Lulu, Az.

[hrizantemy]

me when i hear people defend feyre attacking the lady of autumn by saying she didn’t mean to/beron was her intended target: … how … how is that better?

like okay we all hate beron but he’s still a high lord, still someone you invited to form an alliance/negotiate with diplomatically. in a court where you are a guest might i add. you are a child they all saw practically naked two days ago, now playing house with a man (sorry, male) who willingly or otherwise tormented them for the better part of half a century .. because he gave you a pretty crown? how does one expect these old ass fae to not be condescending or reluctant? i’d have asked her to let the adults do the talking if she was piping in every two seconds telling me what to think and how to act.

the high lords’ meeting is my roman empire because it’s one of those instances where you have to let your jaw hit the floor because in what world - except one where sjm expects everyone to love her blorbo’s for all their correct opinions and positions - did any of that work?? with no consequences?? in fact they’re rewarded for their behaviour: tarquin rescinds the blood rubies, everyone’s chiming in about how they knew rhysand was the good guy all along, no one cares about the high lord who is why they’re all free rn (okay feyre broke the curse — tamlin’s curse. tamlin killed amarantha. he is why rhysand is free to rewrite history and the others have a future) i’m surprised there wasn’t a scene where the lady of autumn apologises to feyre for being in the way of her attack smh

This is one of the reasons I cannot like Feyre. The justification that she “didn’t mean to” attack the Lady of Autumn or that “Beron was her intended target” makes absolutely no sense and, frankly, makes the situation worse. How is it any better that her recklessness and inability to control her powers led to an innocent woman nearly being killed? The Lady of Autumn was already a victim of Beron’s abuse and violence, and Feyre—who should, of all people, understand the trauma of being hurt or manipulated by powerful individuals—just becomes another threat to her. How is that defensible in any way?

Even if Beron was her intended target, that doesn’t excuse the collateral damage of almost killing someone who was completely uninvolved in the fight. Feyre’s powers are vast, yes, but she constantly wields them with this mix of entitlement and carelessness that makes her more of a liability than a hero. It’s one thing to make mistakes; it’s another to make catastrophic ones and have people excuse them as if the consequences don’t matter.

And let’s be real—Feyre is never held accountable for these actions. The narrative either brushes it off or turns it into another moment for someone to coddle her and tell her how amazing she is. Meanwhile, the Lady of Autumn is left to fend for herself, as usual, trapped in her abusive marriage, and probably now terrified of Feyre as well. The complete lack of responsibility Feyre takes—or is made to take—for her actions is one of the biggest reasons I can’t root for her. She’s not a savior; she’s a wrecking ball with a savior complex.

The entire High Lords meeting was, without question, a complete disaster. It was supposed to be this grand gathering where the courts would come together to ally against Hybern, but instead, it devolved into petty squabbles, veiled insults, and outright hostility. Rhysand, for all his posturing as the most “progressive” High Lord, walked into the meeting with an attitude so smug it practically dared the others to disagree with him. Tamlin, true to form, took the bait and immediately turned the whole thing into a personal grievance fest. Beron was his usual insufferable self, Helion was flirting, and everyone else seemed more interested in holding grudges than actually saving the world.

Nobody trusted anyone, and honestly, who could blame them? These are the same people who’ve been at each other’s throats for centuries, and now they’re supposed to just shake hands and work together? Rhysand’s attempts at diplomacy mostly amounted to thinly veiled threats, Feyre’s speeches did little to inspire confidence, and Amren just sat there looking like she wanted to kill someone. It was all spiraling into chaos.

And then came Nesta.

Nesta, who was barely even acknowledged as part of the delegation. Nesta, who didn’t care about politics, alliances, or playing nice. Nesta, who was so angry, so filled with righteous fury, that her words cut through the nonsense like a blade. When she stood up and spoke about what Hybern had done, about what they would do if the High Lords didn’t put aside their differences and act, she commanded the room. She didn’t appeal to their egos or try to manipulate them; she just told the truth in the most raw, unflinching way possible.

Her speech wasn’t about Rhysand’s court, or Tamlin’s grudges, or Beron’s smug indifference. It was about the people who would suffer and die if they didn’t unite. It was about the horrors she had witnessed and endured. It was about the cost of their pride and their inaction. And for the first time in the entire meeting, there was silence.

That speech was the turning point. It was the reason the High Lords agreed to set aside their centuries of animosity and work together. Not because of Feyre’s attempts to “inspire” them, not because of Rhysand’s threats, but because Nesta Archeron reminded them of what was at stake.

And here’s the kicker: even after she was the one who secured the alliances they needed, the credit still went elsewhere. Feyre, Rhysand, and their crew walked away looking like the saviors, while Nesta was left on the sidelines again. The meeting may have been a mess, but Nesta was the only reason it wasn’t an outright failure.

Bonus mention: My man Thesan was the only unproblematic one at that entire meeting. He showed up, minding his own business, probably thinking, “I am a healer, not a referee for this soap opera.” While everyone else was busy airing centuries of dirty laundry, Thesan was out here like, “So… about that war threatening all our lives?”

He didn’t come for the drama, didn’t throw unnecessary shade, and managed to keep his court from looking like an absolute circus. Honestly, if I were him, I would’ve been this close to kicking the entire Night Court delegation out.

If anyone deserved to walk out of that meeting with dignity, it was Thesan. The man probably, sat down with a glass of wine after, and said, “Never again.”

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates Pt 2

Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Vee's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison

Warnings/Other Notes - Blood, injury, and physical abuse mentioned in this part. None of it graphic but please proceed with caution; 1.3k words; Again, these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF

Part One

✨💫

Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Vee’s story? What were those burns from? If Vee was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.

The following morning, Feyre jolted awake to find Amren standing at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her temples as Amren made some comment about vomiting her guts up before throwing something onto the bed. “That got me out of prison. You wear it in––they can’t keep you.”

Feyre didn’t so much as move.

Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prior and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amen was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.

Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.

“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.

“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.

“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. “I, well, the risk––”

“You don’t want to say something you don’t want the others hearing,” Rhysand warned. “Those inmates have nothing to do but listen through the earth for information to trade for food or sex or even some air.”

Feyre didn’t respond as he offered his hand to her to help with a particular steep bit of rock. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Feyre said as she took Rhysand’s hand. She referred to the inability to get out of bed after seeing the prison for the first time.

The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”

They continued their climb until the upper face of the mountain was a wall before the pair. Below, Feyre and Rhysand could see the flow of the grass. Feyre’s gaze quickly shifted to Rhys when he pulled out a sword. He noted the look on Feyre’s face.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.

“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.

“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”

“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”

“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”

There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Vee. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”

Rhys’s face darkened, a flicker of pain in his eyes as silence stretched for a moment. “His father, a lord, had two legitimate sons who were both older than Azriel. Spoiled. Cruel. Learned traits from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the first eleven years of his life, he lived under his father’s keep. The lord’s wife saw to it that Azriel was kept in a cell with no window or light. They let him out for an hour every day…only let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He was not allowed to train, fly, or doing anything else his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do.” 

Another pause ad Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left the scars from the burns.”

The image of Vee gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Vee. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Vee, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”

The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males. Illyrian females are seen as nothing more than breeding stock. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Vee before either of them even considered it. Vee interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”

The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Vee’s hair came into her mind’s eye.

“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Vee. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Vee was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Vee, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just cut off her wings and be done with it.”    

The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.    

“I suspect that if Vee was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Vee’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Vee himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Vee after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Vee, derived from Velaris. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Vee is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”   

The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Vee’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Vee were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.

[acourtofthought]

Your post about Az not being a love interest for elain got me because I had an interaction at work that I still laugh at… I have a Velaris sweatshirt I wear on casual office days. A coworker noticed and we talked about SJMs work.

She asked about my ranking of all SJM couples and I asked- do you mean couples or ships? There’s a difference. And she said couples confirmed in the books.

1. Bryce and Hunt

2. Aelin and Rowan

3. Ruhn and Lidia

4. Etc etc etc

She was shocked that I didn’t have acotar in my top 3. I said there’s other couples and worlds I enjoyed more but Az’s story might pull me back in. She goes- yeah where do you rank Az and Elaine? I said they’re not a couple… she looked at me as if I had 3 heads. She asked if we read the same books. I asked her the same question back lol.

I said if anything they’re a ship. Nothing on page tells me they’re a couple. After my breakdown the woman confessed to only reading the Acotar series and no other works by SJM but the accounts she follows online tell her that it’s Az and Elaine moving forward and the evidence is there. She said it’s been a while since she even read ACOTAR, but with how excited people are online about E/lriel she thought it was a sure thing.

I asked her thoughts on Az and Gwyn and she confessed to just skimming SF because she didn’t like Nesta so from what she sees from the accounts she follows, Gwyn is a little girl taken under Nesta’s wing. 😂

I asked her opinion on Lucien and Elaine and she said from the accounts she follows… he’s abusive and controlling. I asked what was her opinion while reading, NOT seeing peoples opinion online, and she said she didn’t remember but people online make a good cases.

I left the conversation going… well we’ll see when Az’s book comes out. Nothings confirmed until SJM writes it.

There's a shocking number of people who haven't bothered to really read the books and who instead allow themselves to be led by what they see online.

I.e., there's so many people that think it's confirmed that Elain called Az's scars beautiful because of how often that is being spread around online, that this is one of their big clues to an e/riel endgame and romance.

If one had actually read the book though, Feyre says she didn't know whether Elain was looking at his scars OR siphons. And since Az never reflects on Elain looking at his hands in his POV and instead thinks his hands will taint Elain versus Sarah having Elain sigh over the diamonds and pearls Nesta wore, the logical conclusion is that Elain did like his siphons since they're bright and sparkly (no shade to my girl either, who doesn't love jewel like things?). But they scream this scene as being so romantic, confirming it as canon when it's actually not?

That's the same thing with it being said that E/riel wants a future with one another, with them being a canon couple. Two characters wanting to kiss doesn't mean they want a relationship yet some have fully convinced themselves Elain wants to marry Az. That Az wants to be with Elain forever.

Where does it say that in canon? Az might question why he didn't get a bond like his brothers but even that is not proof of wanting to be with her since he also says he's never thought of a real future with Elain, that his plans have only gone as far as his sexual fantasies. The only canon thing we have for E/riel is they were both willing to make-out. On page Elain did not consent to more than that, she did not speak of feelings for Az at all. For some who claim to love Elain, they sure don't seem to care what her actual feelings for Az are, having convinced themselves that hooking up equals love and marriage and babies forever despite Elain never verbalizing exactly what she wants outside of a kiss.

The text supported that Nesta went much further than a kiss with many fae but that doesn't mean she wanted to date them. Yet people claim they KNOW Elain wants to have a relationship with Az just because of Solstice. They literally do not care that Elain has never said she wants anything more from Az than fun, they have assumed and decided for her while no canon exists to prove their opinion. This is Sarah we're talking about here, who started the CC series with Bryce having sex with some guy who she clearly was not interested in having a relationship with, with Feyre who hooked up with Isaac but did not desire more, with Cassian sleeping with the girl he knew his brother wanted. Sarah who loves mates above all else and she's consistently proven throughout the series that Elain and Lucien are mates (not Elain and Az), that Elain will always feel a tug to Lucien no matter what. Everyone that has come before an endgame pairing accepting their bond in Sarah's writing is always just lust, death of a non mate to clear the way for them to find their mate or romance for the wrong reasons but they truly think Az and Elain are the ones breaking that mold? Az who had to be yelled at by Amren for not believing in Elain? Az who didn't care when Elain was her most depressed? Az who didn't even give Elain credit for stabbing the king with his oh so special dagger?

So I agree with everything you said. To me, Elain and Az are not a confirmed canon couple and are not in a relationship, otherwise Nesta and about a dozen or so (or more) fae men were also canon couples. Elizabeth and Wickham would be a confirmed canon couple in P & P. Mor and Cassian would have been a confirmed canon couple. Hooking up doesn't equal a relationship and attraction is not confirmation that two characters have chosen to share their lives together.

That's not to say E/riel isn't a valid ship in the fandom, they are and people can still hope they get together, but they are not a canon couple as neither Elain or Az have expressed the desire to date the other, as they've both avoided each other for an entire year. You can't be a canon couple if you don't spend time together and you can't be a canon couple when 5 months have gone by since an almost kiss and the author never had them look in the others direction again.

And yeah, anyone who believes LUCIEN to be abusive and controlling CLEARLY has not read a single Sarah J Maas book in their life.

As it stands Elain and Lucien, Elain and Az, and Gwyn and Az are not canon couples. The arguments in the fandom should not be proving they are because none are actually in a relationship or dating.

The only valid arguments are who we think Sarah will eventually write as endgame canon couples and of course, I can't imagine anyone being better for Elain than the mate who has never rejected her, who took the author by surprise for her, who Sarah made as being happiest in nature along with her, and who has a similar mentality on cruelty which means Elain will never have to sacrifice what is important to her in order to be with him.

[elainsgirl]

this fandom has got to be the most delusional, gaslighting, toxic, and weirdest fandom Ive ever been in. they get weirder everyday.

why the hell do you want tamlin with ELAIN??? where did this bryce and azriel ship come from???? where is all the feyre hate suddenly coming from???? why is everybody shipping azriel with anything they get their eyes on????? why the hell are people fighting over a bonus chapter???? why are people saying rhysand raped feyre???? why are people saying gwyn and emerie are nyx aunties??? (pretty sure feyre has never met them at all) what are these people making up nowadays??? (this isnt even half of what people are saying)

It's about time I leave this fandom fr.

Hey anon 🫶

heavy on this fandom being so delusional, toxic and great at gaslighting people to believe their interpretations.

I think it comes down too so many factors- acosf has brought on more mature, critical readers that take everything too seriously instead of enjoying this for the lighthearted, barely fleshed out fantasy series that it is. Like ACOTAR is not that deep. People hate Feyre for how she treated and behaved with Nesta. After reading acosf, feyre critics simply think Feyre is a superficial, two faced, biased narrator that doesn’t serve a great purpose unlike her elder sister. Ofc, Rhys has also gained critics due to how he acted out in acosf which led to people judging him in every way possible. No he didn’t r4pe Feyre. Did he SA her? That is too your own interpretation. But r4pe? No. Others say he used feyre as a breeding mule so he can have a child and an heir & doesn’t actually care about feyre, he just loves using her as a puppet. This take is also due to feyre being quite young so some Rhys antis believe he may have coerced/pressured her into having a child. After acosf, people love Nesta and the Valkryies more then they love the IC therefore want the acosf trio to be centre staged going forward. Forget Feyre, Nyx apparently will love his aunt and her friends more then his own parents at this point.

Honestly, people just hate elriel for whatever BS reason and want a suprise twist & chaos such as Elain ending up with her sisters’ emotionally unstable, borderline abusive ex will cause. Same goes for those that ship Az with any woman he interacts with. He talked to gwyn? They’re mates and will forever be in love. Omg he touched Bryce’s hands? That is such clear foreshadowing that Bryce will leave Hunt, break their bond and fall in love with Azriel who is her real mate. Gwyn appeared in a few pages of a limited edition bonus? Her book is next and she will accomplish everything that needs to be done all whilst waiting in the background for Az to notice her so they can fall madly in love.

Yh I know. The fandom has gone so long without a book, stans have become bored. They’ve over analysed the books to death trying to find opinions and takes that will get them rival. People are so bored, they’re coming up with theories to excite them, someone honestly told me that the rejected mate bond trope will be between feysand. People hate the direction the books are going in, therefore want to find anything to justify another storyline that suits their preferences.

If leaving the fandom brings you peace, then go for it. What we really need is a fandom cleanse which will be brought about once elains book and then elriel is confirmed.

[rizzoreads88]

Acotar Unpopular Opinion/Rant.

You’ve been warned it’s going to be controversial

Rhysand, Nesta, Aelin, & Tamlin were all abusive by todays standards at different points. This isn’t even opinion. This is a facts. If they were in the real world their actions would be considered abusive at different points.

In my honest opinion I don’t think any of the characters other then the obvious villians are abusers. I don’t hold these characters to todays standards. Fae are not human. Prythian isn’t the real world. Trying to compare them to your exs or your mean older sibling is like trying to compare the Hybern war to ww2. Apples to oranges BUT I see the fandom likes to apply modern day morals and standards to certain characters only…

Why is Tamlin the only character people like refer to as an abuser? Why is he and Nesta the only ones who are “irredeemable”?why are him and Nesta the only ones this fandom holds to todays standards?

*Rhysand-forced feyre to get drunk to the point of vomiting, grabbed her broken bone causing her physical pain to force her into his bargain, made her expose herself even though she asked for more clothing and was ashamed and embarrassed, forced himself in her, kissing her and licking her when he knew she didn’t want him to touch her, withholding life threatening information about her own body and her baby from her ect… Rhysand also explodes a room because he’s angry at nesta in hofas

(Yes i know the Rhys stans will excuse everything he did UTM because he was helping feyre.. ok but no one made him help feyre in those ways. Amarantha was watching tamlin, rhysand didn’t have to help feyre in the ways he did he could have helped her in other ways. )

*Aelin- literally tried to murder her boyfriend and would have if Dorian didn’t magically restrain her,,, physically harms his face

You can’t say well whoever had good intentions and they have trauma so it’s different… besties they all have trauma…in canon text everything tamlin did in his head he was protecting feyre. He had good intentions too but went about them in terrible ways obviously. Abuse is abuse regardless of intent.

At the end of the day you can try to excuse the abuse for your fav characters however you want but it is STILL abuse by todays standards.

SJM herself has said tamlin is not a villian. She has also said there is more to Tamlin then what we see from feyres lense. She has also said he is on his own journey. SJM wrote a whole book of Nestas growth and she changes and literally saves feyres whole little family and still people act like she is the worst.

** I also think it’s important to remember when we in the fandom are talking about tamlin, nesta, rhysand, aelin or whoever we are talking about those characters specifically and their actions within the context of it s fantasy world. We are not talking about whoever they remind you of in real life. We are not talking about what you or I went through we are referring to the story and what’s going on within prythian. **

When people pick and choose which abusive actions they excuse and which abusive person is a abuser and who isn’t it kind seems like you don’t actually care about the abuse rather just who is doing it.

Be consistent. Either all characters who are abusive at times are abusers or their not. Either all abusive actions or wrong or it’s not.

To me I don’t consider any of these 4 characters abusers over all but we’re they abusive at points? Yes. Were all their abusive actions wrong? Yes. Intention does not matter when it comes to abuse. It’s all wrong.