#sjm did say she would LOVE the spring court

[darklove9314-blog]

Sorry is the Hardest Word: A Nessian Fanfic

Welcome to day 3 of SJM romance week, prompt: First “I Love you”.

Synopsis: This story contains spoilers for HOFAS: proceed with caution. After the events of HOFAS, Cassian gives Nesta an explanation for his anger.

Nesta shoveled the food that Cassian had made them for dinner on her plate, her appetite near nonexistent as the silence and tension could be felt between her and Cassian. The feel of it damn near sufficienting as he concentrated on his own plate, his jaw still clenched in that anger from the discussion she, Rhys, Feyre and himself had had. Where even he had snapped at her about her reckless discussion. Feyre had been the only one to fight for her and the only one to get Rhys to back off until they were back at The House of Wind.

Ember and Randall exchanged a brief glance with one another, a silent conversation playing out between the two of them as Ember rose from her chair, gathering her and Randall’s empty dishes as Cassian’s eyes flickered up to her in response.

"I think we'll turn in for the night. Thank you for dinner." She said to Cassian as Ember squeezed Nesta's shoulder in reassurance before slipping her hand into Randall's making their way to wash their dishes before retrieving to the guest room Nesta had set up for them earlier.

She watched Ember go, taking a deep breath and gathering her courage as she turned back to Cassian, his focus still on his own plate as she straightened slightly. That was it, she was tired of this silence between them. If he was mad at her, fine, but she refused to let this argument fester between them any longer instead of talking about it.

"Go ahead." She finally said to him making Cassian's head lift in response, his eyes still flared with the fire she had seen in them earlier that day. she refused to back down from it.

"What do you want me to say Nesta? That I'm upset? You know I am, but somehow I doubt you care.”

"What was it about my decision that made you so angry? Even Feyre knew why i did it."

"I'm not Fyere, Nesta."

"Neither am i." Nesta argued, her hand clenching the table, "And yet when i make a decision that Feyre herself would have made, I'm punished and reprimanded for it. Why is that?"

Cassian gave her a leveled look, crossing his arms over his chest as he answered,

"I've been mad at Feyre plenty of times for throwing not just herself, but all of us in danger. You should have seen how angry I was when she decided not to tell any of us that she was High lady and decided to go with Tamlin to the Spring Court."

She briefly remembered that time, had remembered some of his anger, but mostly during that time, she had remembered him doing everything to keep her sane. Even if it meant provoking her anger in the process so she had something else to focus on then her own reality.

"Stop trying to change the subject, you owe me an explanation. I know why Rhys was mad, he's the High lord of these lands, Nyx is barely four months old and I already know he detest me, but I still can't figure out why my mate, the person who's supposed to understand me the most is angrier at me than my own brother in law is."

Cassian stood abruptly as Nesta stood up to meet him, crossing her arms over her chest. there was no way in hell that she would let him avoid this conversation. No matter how unpleasant it made both of them feel. She was tired of whatever the hell was happening between the two.

"You want to know why I'm pissed at you, why I'm furious that you gave it to that-that female." Cassian spewed out stepping closer to her so there was no space between them.

"I'm here waiting for an explanation aren't I?" She pressed.

"You are the most infuriating female I have ever met, you know that?"

She gave a low laugh at that,

"In that way we're evenly matched."

She expected lot of things, for him to yell at her some more or for him to walk away, she did not expect him to pull her in, whined his hands in her hair, and press his lips to hers.

She met his furious kisses, stroke for stroke, taking her own fury at him out in her kiss as they battled for dominance. He pulled away, leaving her breathless but still tilted her face up to meet that fire in his eyes as he breathed out,

"I'm angry, because that female had the audacity to ask my mate for a favor after she had already put your life in danger. I'm angry because the woman I love, put her life and safety at risk to help save others who would not do the same for her. I'm angry because-"

"Did you just say that you love me?" Nesta questioned, his declaration catching her off guard as he breathed pausing in his expiation blinking in confusion.

"Of course I did. You're my mate, why wouldn't I-"

He paused considering, contemplating their time together. the words he had uttered to her in their love making, she knew he loved her, had felt it in his kiss, in the fierceness of how he showed it to her, but she had never heard him utter it out loud, not until this very moment.

"I'm an asshole." He finally admitted, sorrow and regret in his eyes and a hint of shame. "I'm a selfish, cowardice, asshole, and some days I do not deserve you."

She closed the very narrow distance between them, standing on tip toes to press her lips to his, her hands gently caressing his face as he kissed her back with the desire of a thousand universes.

"I love you too." She whispered, losing herself in his strong embrace, her lover, her best friend, her mate.

"I should have said it sooner." He whispered to her in between their urgent kisses.

"The past is the past, Cassian. I'd rather live in the here and the now, for however long the Mother and The universe gives us, I want you by my side."

He grasped her hand, intertwining their fingers as he said,

"I wouldn't want it any other way, Nesta Archeron."

She smiled, capturing his lips once more as she mused,

"We should take this to the bedroom that way you can show me how much you love me."

She felt his smile between their kiss as he lifted her up in his arms, a giggle escaping her as he grinned,

"I thought you'd never ask."

@sjmromanceweek

[starsreminisce]

SJM Romance Week Day Three First I Love You

Pink Balloon

Word count: 4000 for @sjmromanceweek

Summary: Lucien’s recollection of all the times he wanted to tell Elain Archeron he loved her but couldn’t, except for the one time he did.

Read on AO3 or Continue Below

Lucien’s love for Elain was a pink balloon, tethered to him by a golden string. He held it firmly, feeling the pull as it danced in the wind, catching the sunlight in soft, rosy hues. With every moment, the balloon grew larger, swelling with the weight of everything unsaid, everything he felt. He didn’t know what would come first: the moment it slipped free or the moment it swelled too much to hold that it would pop.

He first felt it—what he thought was love—when he had chanced upon the tulip fields on the continent. The rows of vibrant blooms reminded him of her. He knelt there for hours, the scent of earth and flowers clinging to him, imagining what she would sound like if she were there.

He felt it when he saw her spark in the eyes of an old human man. The stranger’s gaze stayed on him, as if something he himself could not name was recognized. Lucien introduced himself as Feyre’s … friend, but the man was keen, the same piercing look Elain had given him before. Lucien tried to hide who he was to Elain, but it didn’t stop the old man from telling stories of a little girl—his second daughter—of her childhood, her dreams, the life she might’ve lived if the world had been kinder.

He felt it during the times of panic had seized him out of nowhere, a cold dread knotting his stomach until, hours later, the bond between them eased and he knew she was safe.

He felt it in the aftermath of battle, wading through blood and ruin to reach her. Her father had been taken by the King of Hybern, and Lucien had fought his way through the chaos, desperate to find them. She’d stood amid the wreckage, tears streaking her face, her trembling hands holding herself as though it could keep her grief together. She hadn’t gotten the words out—she’d cracked on asking if he was all right—but still smiled as he said that he was. He would have liked to continue on from that and promise her something, anything, but the words just closed off his throat.

Later, when Feyre had left them alone, he’d fumbled for an excuse to linger. His hands had felt clumsy as he offered to help wash her crimson-stained hands. She’d let him take them, her smile shy, her gaze flitting away. The water had run pink between their fingers, and he’d stared too long at the way her shoulders hunched, the way she bit her lip as though holding back words of her own.

But he knew. He knew he loved her when he saw her face light up at the sight of Graysen. It was fleeting, just a second, but it was enough to make the bond between them hum. He sent a whisper of warmth down it—his way of saying I see you. I feel you. Goosebumps rippled over her skin, and she turned to him, startled.

She didn’t need to say anything. He saw it in the way her gaze lingered on Graysen’s retreating figure. She was still in love with him. Lucien wanted to speak—to fight for her, to remind her that love could be built, that the mating bond could mean more. But the words dissolved on his tongue.��

Instead, he let the silence stretch between them. When she turned away, he did the same, busying himself with idle conversation with Vassa.

Lucien’s love for Elain was a pink balloon. He loved her enough to let her go.

He told her he would respect her choice. He promised to stay in the human lands, to give her the space she needed to reject the bond. And yet, she never did.

Even when Graysen refused to write to her.

Even when her answers to Lucien’s visits grew colder, more dismissive.

Even when he returned from the Spring Court, battered and bruised, and she offered no more than a glance.

Even when another solstice passed, and he found no gift from her waiting.

He told himself he could stop. That he should stop. But it wasn’t that simple. Not when their string was still connected.

It was during Starfall that it struck him hardest—watching her from across the crowd. The soft glow of a female who, shy of two years ago, had been pale and withering, now radiating life. She had pulled herself from the darkness and smiled—genuinely smiled—as she spoke with the Day Court High Lord like someone who had finally remembered the sun. His chest ached with pride and longing, but he stayed where he was.

A few days later, the bond yanked violently at his soul. He barely made it to her before she threw herself into his arms, sobbing over the near-loss she had experienced. He held her as long as she allowed, feeling her breath even out against him. And then, as quickly as he’d come, she left, running away without a word.

It struck him at Nesta’s mating ceremony, when a tinge of sadness lingered in her eyes. Her sidelong glances brushed over him, soft and fleeting, as if she didn’t know whether to speak or stay silent. He chose silence for her.

But then there was the moment that gave him pause—the spark of fire in her eyes when she learned he would be at the Spring Court for Calanmai. She said nothing at first, only nodded with feigned indifference, though her fingers tightened around the edge of the chair she sat in. And then, days later, she appeared in the Spring Court, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she claimed she had stumbled upon the court purely by accident.

Her words might have been more convincing if not for the three neatly packed bags resting at her feet and the gentle rustle of wings from a distance.

At first, their conversations were stilted, guarded—polite to the point of discomfort. She wore the veneer of a well-bred lady, carefully crafting her words to manipulate what she wanted. But Lucien was a fox, and centuries of navigating courtly games had taught him how to spot a trap, how to dance just out of reach. It was a fragile charade, doomed to crack under the weight of what simmered beneath.

It finally shattered during a torrential downpour. Rain drenched them both, but he wasn’t sure if the wetness streaking her face was just from the storm. Her voice broke as she demanded—finally demanded—what she had been skirting around for weeks, maybe years. The rawness of her tone struck him like a blade, cutting through all the walls they’d both so carefully built.

And when he touched her for the first time in two years, his fingers grazing her jawline, every feeling he had buried came rushing to the surface. It was instinctive, visceral, the way his body craved hers. The way her skin burned beneath his fingertips, even in the freezing rain. He wanted to tell her then. To confess it all. To scream that he had always loved her, that he had never stopped.

But the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he mumbled some half-assed excuse—something about the Spring Court, about how it was dying without Calanmai, as if that mattered. As if it could explain away the ache in his chest, the way his hands trembled when they fell from her face.

And yet, somehow, the cracks in their interactions didn’t break them apart. Slowly, the sharp edges of their conversations softened. The tension between them eased into something neither could quite define—a spark, small and fragile, but undeniably theirs. Neither of them dared to name it, let alone disrupt it. For now, it was enough to simply let it burn.

And burn it did. He saw it when she knelt among the weary citizens of Spring, leaving them better than she found them. When her eyes lit up at the gardens he showed her, their overgrown wildness was brought back to life. When her lips curved in a surprised smile at the story of Tamlin’s father and the roses he once gifted his mate.

He saw it when she cursed quite violently while mending those roses, a streak of dirt smudged across her cheek as she bemoaned they weren’t peonies. And when, wading through the stream, she squealed in delight after catching her first fish barehanded—only to shriek when it wriggled free.

And then there were the quiet evenings—just the two of them, lying in the grass during one of their picnics. Her voice softened as she retold the stories her father had once shared with him, weaving her own embellishments into the familiar tales.

With every moment, every smile, every spark, she tightened her hold on him, whether she meant to or not.

He should have told her when her eyes turned white, her body trembling as he caught her in his arms. He held her through the vision, whispered steady reassurances as she clung to him, terrified and shaken.

He should have told her when she wiggled her lips together in that way that always amused him, right before she surged onto her toes and pressed her mouth against his—spontaneous, fleeting, unguarded. It had been after he’d surprised her with meadows upon meadows of flowers, the kind that stole the breath from her lungs and lit her eyes with something soft, something wonderstruck.

The kiss caught him off guard—brief, unpracticed, sweet enough to stun him into silence. And then, as realization washed over her, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She had darted away before he could react.

For a long moment, he remained frozen, the ghost of her touch lingering. Then laughter bubbled up, breaking the spell, shaking loose something deep inside him.

He should have told her then.

He should have told her when he caught her hiding a thought from him, the way her lips twitched with something unsaid. He’d rolled his eyes, already knowing her well enough to see through the act. The first time he said her name instead of her title had been then, when his hand threaded through her hair, his voice low enough to make her pause. The look she gave him—wide, open, and unguarded—was enough to make him inch closer, enough to press his lips against hers. It started softly but deepened, a tiny moan escaping as his other hand slipped to her waist. He’d teased her afterward, grinning as he murmured that now that she was distracted, perhaps she could finally tell him why she was there. She hadn’t. She scoffed instead.

He should have told her the evening before, when she approached him with her hands tucked behind her back, rocking on the balls of her feet. She had suggested, with a shy boldness, that they ought to partake in Calanmai … together. He’d leaned back, propping his chin in his hand, letting her explanation spill forth. What was a hunter without his maiden mate? And how fortuitous that Lucien already had a mate. Her gaze was steady, even daring, but there was a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

He couldn’t resist teasing her, though. He pointed out, with a sly grin, that a mate wasn’t quite the same as his mate. Her scowl was immediate, her lips pressing into a thin line as her cheeks deepened from pink to red. She had called him something biting then, something sharp enough to make him laugh aloud, her indignation only fueling his amusement.

He could have told her then—when the blush on her face matched the fire in her eyes. But his heart clenched at her quiet earnestness. So instead, he offered her a compromise. If he found her, he promised.

But when the night fell, and the Calanmai magic swept through him like wildfire, words abandoned him entirely. The raw power twisted his form, sharpening every instinct, every need. He became something more beast than male. He had scented her—only her—and there was nothing in the world that could have stopped him from finding her.

When he found her, it was her fear that stopped him cold. It flashed in her wide, startled eyes, a look that sliced through the primal haze clawing at his mind. His body, tense and ready to spring, rebelled against its own instincts as he willed himself to pull away, to run, to protect her from the storm raging in his blood. He told himself he had to leave her—that she didn’t want this now that she had it.

But then she reached for him. She reminded him that he had promised her.

Desperate to push her away, he roared, feral and raw as he bared his teeth, hoping it would make her scatter, make her leave him to his misery. But she stood firm, shaking her head as she repeated herself: he had promised. And then, softer, steadier, she added that he was still Lucien.

Her hand wrapped around his wrist, and the world quieted. She didn’t need to say the words for him to understand. She trusted him. She always had.

When she finally coaxed him to the cave, it wasn’t her words that calmed him but her scent: soft, warm, and achingly familiar. It filled the space between them, soothing the fire in his veins, weaving through the chaos in his mind. The steady rhythm of her breathing anchored him, and even as reason slipped from his grasp, she was all he could see, all he could feel, all he could want.

She wasn’t afraid. He couldn’t smell it on her. Nervous, yes—her pulse fluttered just slightly beneath her skin—but fear was absent. That knowledge destroyed whatever resistance he had left.

She kissed him first—firm, but hesitant—like a question she wasn’t sure how to ask. And with that single touch, the tension inside him snapped.

His hands tangled in her hair as he kissed her back, deeper, more desperate, as if trying to pour everything he felt into that moment. He wanted to stop, to ask if she was sure, but the words never formed. They were swallowed by the bond humming between them, alive, filling the spaces where language would have failed.

Her dress fell away beneath his hands, and when she knelt before him, bare and unguarded, he could only follow her. The glow of the fire kissed her skin, painting her in gold. She was beautiful—achingly so, in a way that left him breathless.

When she pressed him down onto the furs, her movements clumsy but growing bolder, he let her. He let her take her time, let her explore, her fingers smudging the paint streaked across his skin as if she were unraveling something hidden beneath. She traced his chest, his arms, his face—mapping him with reverence, as though seeing him for the first time, as though claiming what had always been hers.

And then her hands wandered lower.

His breath hitched as she rid him of his pants. She bit her lip at the sight of him, waiting, watching. And when she leaned forward, dragging her tongue over his length, again and again, his hands fisted in the furs beneath him. The scent of her arousal thickened in the cave, wrapping around him like a fog, his restraint unraveling with each flick of her tongue. But still, he watched her—watched her with something beyond hunger, beyond need. He watched her with awe.

When she finally rose, aligning herself above him, he swore he felt her hesitation in his own bones. But she didn’t stop. Slowly, deliberately, she sank onto him, a soft sigh slipping past her lips as he stretched and filled her. He could feel her—how she squeezed around him, how her warmth wrapped around every part of him, making him lightheaded with the sheer rightness of it.

Her name echoed in his mind as she moved above him, as she set the rhythm that would be seared into his soul. His gaze devoured every detail—the way her breath stuttered when he rolled his hips to meet her, the way her hands gripped his forearms. His eyes traced the movement of her breasts—small, she had always claimed, but to him, they were perfect. He memorized the rise and fall of her sighs, the gasps that grew needier, the way her back arched as if pulled by an invisible thread tying them together.

Her cries filled the cave, mingling with the sound of his own ragged breaths. And as her hair tumbled around her, wild and unbound, a faint golden glow flickered along the strands, pulsing with something he couldn’t quite name. Something radiant. Something inevitable.

He fought hard to hold back, even as the animalistic instinct clawed at him to take control, to claim her in the way the magic demanded. But there was something sacred in the way she reveled in him, as though she claimed him piece by piece. He let her set the pace, let her chase the pleasure she so clearly found in him.

Because she was as much the hunter as he was, just as he was as much the maiden as she. In that moment, there was no bond, no magic, no roles—just them, equals, giving and taking in perfect harmony.

When she finally collapsed against him, trembling, he sat up to meet her, their bodies pressed flush, heat and sweat melding them into one. His hands found her hips, her thighs, cupping her ass as he guided her movements, hurried and frenzied, savoring the way her nails dug on his skin with every stroke. He buried himself in her—her neck, her breasts, her lips—uttering the only word that seemed to fit, the only one that escaped him in broken whispers: perfect. 

It wasn’t enough to say it once; the word tumbled from him like a prayer, because it was all he could feel, all he could think. He had never known what it was to be so completely consumed by another person, to lose himself in someone so entirely that he forgot where he ended and she began.

Even when the magic began to ebb, working its way out of his system, and the fevered pace of their bodies slowed, nothing changed. They gave themselves to each other again, softer now, sweeter, savoring every second that remained. Her lazy smile undid him all over again, the way her teeth caught her bottom lip as though she were too shy to ask for more.

But she didn’t need to ask.

They came together again, and again, until exhaustion claimed them both, until there was nothing left but tangled limbs and the steady sound of her breathing beside him.

When he woke hours later, he was himself again. The ache of lingering magic pulled at his muscles, but none of it mattered. Not when she was there, asleep in his arms, her scent woven into his skin as deeply as his was into hers. Her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder, fitting like a piece that had always been missing.

Lucien’s love for Elain was a pink balloon, and in that moment, he could have sworn it was ready to pop. The softness of her sleeping, a slight, sweet, left his heart stretched too full—so full it ached, teetering on the edge of bursting.

He should have woken her then, brushed his lips against her skin, and told her he loved her. He should have made love to her in that drowsy haze, whispering the truth that had been choking him for years. He should have told her this wasn’t just the last dregs of Calanmai’s magic lingering in his veins—it was her. It had always been her.

He should have said it before the fire, before the cave, before everything. But he hadn’t. The words stayed lodged in his throat, heavy with fear, heavy with the weight of everything they could mean. To say them aloud was to admit they were real. To make them real was to risk losing her.

So he waited.

He waited, even as their glances stretched into something deeper, even as their smiles lingered just a moment too long. He waited, though every accidental brush of her fingers against his sent him hurtling back to that night—the heat of it, the way her body had fit so perfectly against his, the sound of her sighs echoing in the dark. Her touch seemed to summon it all over again, burning through him like embers waiting to catch.

They told themselves it had been the magic, a momentary loss of control. They hid behind jokes and sharp jabs, laughing too loudly, their voices too quick to fill the silence. But it wasn’t enough to smother what simmered between them. Their breaths hitched when they came too close. The scent of her arousal would bloom in the air, setting his blood aflame. And when he caught her, just once, lost in a small, secret smile—her thighs pressing together, as though remembering or reliving the memory—he thought he might lose his mind entirely.

Still, he waited. Because to reach for her, to claim her fully, was to risk it all. And he wasn’t ready for what losing her for good might feel like.

He waited when her visions grew worse, each one cutting through her with a force that left her shaking. He couldn’t stop the guilt gnawing at him, the quiet voice whispering that perhaps he’d caused it, somehow made her burden heavier.

He waited until they reached the Day Court—his idea, her insistence to come. The sunlight suited her, softening the shadows that had haunted her for so long. Still, he said nothing.

He waited until the Summer Solstice.

That night, she was radiant. the firelight dancing across her skin, detailing every curve, every laughter, and every movement she twirled beneath the stars. And she was alive in ways that tugged at his heart and aglow with an abandon he could not tear his gaze from.

If she had remembered the sun during Starfall, here, she basked in it, her joy unfiltered, untamed.

And then she spun toward him, cheeks flushed, breathless laughter spilling from her lips as she reached for his hands. Her fingers tugged him closer, her eyes alight with a teasing challenge, urging him to join her in the dance.

The words were there, gnawing at his throat. I love you. I love you. I love —

“I love you.”

The words escaped before he could stop them, a quiet confession carried on the soft exhale of his breath, a fleeting reprieve from the weight of holding them back.

She stopped. For a moment, he felt he had misread the situation as her gaze swept over his face.

But then she gave him a soft, shining smile, the kind that swept away every fear, every doubt that had plagued him since the moment their bond had snapped.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said bashfully.

The look in her eyes said everything. She didn’t need to say the words aloud. He knew. He felt it. He felt it in the bond between them, brimming with something pure and unwavering, warm like the first blossoms of Spring.

She loved him too.

Lucien’s love for Elain was a pink balloon. He had always thought it would pop under the weight of everything he felt. He had braced himself to let it go, to watch it drift far beyond his reach.

But he never imagined it would grow—lifting him, carrying him higher than he had ever dared to dream.

[ennawrite]

Tamlain Collage

I never would have paired them together if it wasn’t for elaingate. Now it’s the only thing I can think about. Thanks a lot. 🙏

[mcuamerica]

Loving Flames | Part Two

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: You leave Under the Mountain, going back to the Night Court... but there's a certain red head that still plagues your mind Requested by anon here.

Warnings: 18+ only, canon level violence, alludes to SA, Rhys is an asshole in this, a bit of angsty fluff and a lot of angst, slight claustrophobia, PTSD, (not proofread), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Word Count: 4k

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

Part One

You were in that room for the next 8 years, only going out when Amarantha commanded you to watch the tortures she knew you’d be tormented by the most. The faeries that had wings. Children. Families. You stood by Eris’s side, forced to watch as you clung to his arm. Your nails dug into his biceps so often when she was the most brutal that he had small scars there.

And his back, now. When he came back to the room from the healer that night, his entire back and chest was bandaged.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He said to you when he found you with tears in your eyes, sitting on the bed.

“I couldn’t let her hurt you anymore. Not when it wasn’t your fault.” You said.

“She could still hurt you. She could command you out and force you to be whipped.” He said.

“I’d rather me than you.” You whispered, your knees tight to your chest.

“I wouldn’t.” He whispered. “I won’t be able to stand back and watch if she hurts you.” He said.

“Then kill her.” You simply stated, your eyes unfocused on the rug beneath the bed. “She can’t hurt you. Can’t have anyone else hurt you. Kill her and the threat ends.” You said.

Eris swore, ensuring the door was shut. He walked over to you, kneeling at your side. You felt him take your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “You can’t say things like that out loud… you have to be careful.” He said. “I won’t let her hurt you… and I promise to get you out of this room one day.”

Eris wasn’t able to keep that promise. Not until Feyre came along. But, with the tensions between the Autumn and the Spring Court, he didn’t help her at all. And you were confined to your room for all of it other than Feyre’s trials.

When Amarantha finally died, thanks to Tamlin, you felt your tattoo dissolve against your skin. You nearly collapsed on the ground at the thought of leaving this gods-forsaken mountain. Of never seeing it again. Of never being trapped in a bedroom again, or any room. Of feeling the wind against your skin.

But that meant leaving Eris. Once Rhys told you when you would leave, you went to the room. Your prison and sanctuary for so long. “Eris.” You whispered.

He turned around from where he stood before the dresser, contemplating if he wanted to burn the clothing. “I thought you’d be gone by now.” He said.

“I can’t leave without saying goodbye.” You said, nervously playing with your fingers. “I’m going to miss you…” you whispered, silver lining your eyes.

Eris looked at you again, immediately before you. He took your cheeks in his hands. “Don’t do that.” He whispered. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. I don’t want to go to the Night Court if it means I can’t be with you.” You whispered. “You were the best thing about this Mountain. The only thing that kept me sane.” You said, tears falling from your eyes.

Eris, tears welled in his own eyes, shook his head. “You will go to the Night Court. And if the Autumn Court ever needs an emissary, you will always be welcome.” He whispered. “You will live a good, happy life. One you don’t want me in.” He said.

“But I do.” You whispered. “I need you in my life, Er.” You said louder.

“Then come find me once you’re settled. You’ll be welcomed. But if for one moment you resent what you went through down here, if you resent me for what I did, please… spend your time with your family. In your home.” Away from his family. Away from the cruelty you would endure under his father. Especially if he knew you were mates.

You sniffed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you. For everything." You whispered, holding onto him tight. He held onto you like his life depended on it. This may very be the last time Rhys lets him see you. And he would remember the moment for the rest of his life.

You finally pulled away, wiping at the tears in your eyes. "I'll come back for you, Eris Vanserra." You said to him, cupping his cheek.

"And I'll never forget you, Princess." He said.

You let out a watery laugh before letting go over him, taking a few steps back before you turned around and left to the upper levels of the mountain. Where you would go home with Rhys. You knew in your heart, in your soul, that you would see Eris again. And not just for courtly activities, but as friends. And maybe... if you found the strength.. more.

You stayed in the Night Court, in Velaris, for four years. Meeting with Eris only for court purposes. And even then, Azriel, Cassian, or Rhys would be by your side, leading you away from them. No matter how much you tried to convince Rhys, and the others, that Eris never harmed you Under the Mountain, no one believed you. Expect for Mor, surprisingly. She was pretty easy to convince he did nothing to you, never laid a hand on you to harm you.

You were serving as the ever dotting Princess of the Night Court when the events with Feyre and her sisters happened. While each one of them tackled a challenge of her own, and ended up with their mates. Everyone was happy... You had a nephew and a family that adored you. And yet something was still missing.

You secretly wrote to Eris every week, it becoming your favorite time when one of his letter's would appear next on your nightstand. They became increasingly intimate, but never crossed the line of love.

One day, just a few months after Elain and Lucien's wedding/mating ceremony, Rhys said the Court would be meeting with Eris at the House of Wind. And while you were to stay in your old bedroom up there, you were not allowed to see him.

"Rhys, I'm not a child." You said, crossing your arms. "I'm the Princess of the Night Court. I should be there when you plot with our allies."

"Eris is not our ally... we have a tentative agreement with him." Rhys countered.

"That's the definition of an ally." You retorted. "And besides, I know him better than you all."

"You know him from the time he held you captive-"

"The time Amarantha held me captive," You corrected.

Rhys ignored you, continuing on, "You are biased."

You took a deep breath. "I will not be kept from this courts happenings because you believe me to be fragile. And I am certain Feyre will not agree with you locking me up in my room while you talk with the Heir to the Autumn Court." You said.

Rhys narrowed his eyes, but caved and said he would allow you to be present. Only if Azriel stayed by your side the entire night. You agreed, as Azriel was one of your closest friends and hadn't been as protective as the rest of them when it came to Eris. Maybe it's because his shadows detected you were telling the truth. Maybe they were keeping an eye on you all Under the Mountain for all those years. But either way, you didn't argue with having Azriel by your side.

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed down the loose pants and tight fitting shirt you had on. Your flats matched the attire perfectly, incorporating Night Court black with Autumn Court red. You even did your makeup and hair a little bit more like the Autumn Court style. You hadn't seen Eris since the war with Hybern two years ago. While you kept contact with him, you were excited to see him.

You walked out to the main sitting area where the meeting would be held. Eris was standing there, in an Autumn green tunic and tight fitting pants. His red hair was tousled slightly, and shorter than the last time you saw it. Lucien was next to him, and the rest of your family was scattered around the room.

As Eris turned to you and gave you that smile you missed so much, a string snapped on your gut. Your eyes widened slightly as you felt the bond become even stronger than before. He must have noticed, because you saw his breath hitch.

“Eris,” you whispered, tears brimming your eyes. “It’s good to see you.” You blinked a few times, taking a deep breath to keep your composure. If you and Eris showed any affection here, Rhys would probably throw Eris off the balcony.

“You too, princess.” He said it just above a whisper.

The rest of the room looked between the two of you, all of the tension in the room because of you.

“Come on,” Azriel said, causing you to flinch at his un expected touch. “Let’s sit down.” He whispered and then walked you over to the couch. You kept your eyes on Eris, heart beating out of your chest. To the rest of them, they probably thought you were terrified to see him. Even if you had been completely fine with seeing him in the past.

Rhys walked in with Feyre, narrowing his eyes as he saw Eris staring at you. And you staring back. But you were sat next to Azriel, Eris on the other side of the room, so he let it go. “Okay, let’s talk about how you’re planning to kill your father.” He said.

“Thank you for your warm welcome into your home.” Eris said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he finally tore his eyes from you and looked to your brother.

“My home.” Nesta corrected. The House of Wind was her and Cassian’s now. Azriel was in the Town Home with Gywn and you stayed with Feyre and Rhys in the River House.

“You truly have a plan to kill your father?” Lucien said. Your father. As he recently learned Helion was his dad and not Beron.

“Yes, it’s been in the works for sometime. And Autumn is in a good position right now for a take over.” He said, leaning back in the single chair he was in.

Cauldron, he looked magnificent. He had bulked up more, his biceps threatening to tear the undershirt he wore. You wouldn’t put it past him to wear a tighter shirt to show off. Or was it to impress you? Either way, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way his hair fell onto his forehead, even though it should’ve been slicked back. How the pants fit his thighs just right. And gods, the way that smirk played on his tips as he talked about his plans. He was happy to kill his father. He was doing it for you, though you didn’t know it.

You barely heard a word of what they said as you watched Eris. Your eyes never left him. To the others, again, it looked as if you were scared. But as Azriel glanced between the two of you, and caught some stolen looks from Eris to you, he knew it wasn’t fear that was keeping you quiet. It was affection. You couldn’t think of what to say, so you sat quietly and listened. Or, Azriel thought you were listening. You were just admiring your mate.

Eris was your mate. And you couldn’t wrap your head around it. He must have known… and not told you because of the tensions between Autumn and a Night. But still, how long had he known? Did he know when you were Under the Mountain? Before? Is that the only reason he was kind to you?

Thoughts raked your brain as you spiraled down into your mind, and Azriel was the first to notice your short breathing. “(Y/N)?” Azriel whispered.

You looked up to him, finally breaking your stare from your mate. “Do you want to leave?” He asked.

You shook your head, leaning back in the love seat as you finally started to listen to what they had to say.

Eris would kill his father within the week. And he was requesting help from the Night Court to help him do it. It would be by poison, at an Autumn ball in three days. That each Night Court member would be at. And everyone would play their part.

So, as you listened to the plan, you couldn’t help but wonder what this would mean for you. Would Eris want you to be his mate if he was High Lord? He certainly didn’t say anything to you… maybe he was just being nice because mates shouldn’t hurt each other. Maybe he doesn’t want anything to do with you.

You blinked as everyone stood up, and Rhys shook Eris’s hand tentatively. He whispered a ‘if you betray us, you die’ that wasn’t even a whisper, everyone heard it. And then Rhys walked out. You glanced to Azriel as everyone else walked out besides Eris.

“Az… can you give us a moment?” You asked quietly. Azriel looked between you and Eris skeptically. You noticed as his ears perked and his eyes widened slightly as his shadows told him something.

He gave a slight nod. “I’ll be right outside.” He said before turning around to leave. Once he was out of the room, you ran over to Eris. You slung your arms around his neck as he pulled you close to his chest, his arms around your waist in an instant.

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered against his neck.

You felt him smile against the top of your head, pressing a soft kiss there. “Me too, princess.” He whispered.

“How long have you known?” You asked as you pulled away. “About the bond?” Your voice was shaking, your eyes hoping for a good explanation.

“Since before your mother died… your first introduction to the Courts with your father. It snapped for me the moment I saw you.” He said and cupped your cheek when you pulled away. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew we couldn’t be together. Your father would never allow it. Your brother certainly wouldn’t.” He said.

“You didn’t think to tell me Under the Mountain?” You asked. You weren’t hurt about his secrecy, surprisingly. He had been protecting you for years. How could you be mad at him?

“I did… I wanted to so many times. But I didn’t want to force it on you down there. Or make it seem like I was trying to win you over. I just wanted you safe. And if Amarantha knew you were my mate, she might have done something to hurt you…” He said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see it until now.” You said, leaning your forehead against his.

“I don’t want anyone to know. Not until my father is dead and he has no chance of using you against me.” Eris whispered.

“I want to accept it.” You whispered. “As soon as we’re both safe.” You told him, searching his eyes.

Neither of you had been remotely intimate. Hugging and sharing a bed was the extent to how you interacted Under the Mountain and after too. But now, you wanted to do everything with him. Wanted to kiss him, feel his warm lips on yours. You wanted him inside you, his flaming body against yours as you connected in a way no one else could. You wanted him to be your mate, officially. You wanted everything with him. Including children. A kingdom to rule, if he’d have you as his Lady.

Eris’s face at your words softened even more, tears lining his eyes. “Soon, I promise. But we will wait until after my father dies.” He said. “And when I am High Lord, we will accept it in whatever way you want. A large ceremony. A small one. You could give me a tree nut and I would be happy.” He said. “As long as I can be with you.”

“I don’t care. I just want to be your mate.” You told him.

“I’m glad we agree.”

After that week, and after the ball where Eris's father "unexpectedly" died from a heart problem, Beron's powers were passed to Eris. And now, the heir of the Autumn Court was no more, instead, he was the High Lord of Autumn. Your mate.

While you wanted to immediately mate him, Eris wanted to establish his court before announcing his Lady of Autumn. So, you needed to distract yourself. And it happened that Tarquin invited you to the Summer Court to help strategize their rebuilding of the city. In reality, you were going for a vacation to relax. And distract yourself.

So, as you were packing your bag, Rhys knocked on the door.

You turned, giving your brother a small smile.

"You sure you want to leave?" He asked you.

"Yes, I can't wait to lay on the beach and relax for two weeks." You said happily.

"I'm sure it's been hard for you this past week," he said.

“Why?” You asked, zipping up your bag before turning towards him.

“Because… of having to be around Eris.” Rhys said, as if it were obvious. Though, while it was hard being around Eris, he thought it was because of how Eris hurt you. For you, it was hard because you wanted to tell the world about your mate. And you couldn’t.

“It wasn’t, not for the reason you’re implying.” You said. “I like spending time with Eris. And I’ve told you countless times before, he never hurt me.” You said.

“He locked you away in a room.” He said.

“Amarantha locked me away in a room.” You said.

“Because of Eris. Because he was trying to get you outside.”

“Because of her. Not Eris. He was being whipped and I made a decision to not let him suffer.”

“Why?” Rhys demanded. “Why make yourself a prisoner for him? Why not let him bleed? He’s not a good male.”

“He is!” You said. “You see what you want to, Rhys. You can assume all you want to but I spent 50 years with him. He never once touched me without asking. Never once crossed a line. And he didn’t even do it because he was scared of you. He did it because he respects me. And he cares for me.” You said.

“Why would he? When you’re the sister of his enemy? He wouldn’t do anything if it wasn’t for his benefit?” He asked.

You took a deep breath. “He’s not as selfish as he seems, Rhys.” You said, crossing your arms. “Why did you help Feyre when she was the betrothed to your enemy?” You asked.

“That’s different. Feyre is my mate.”

You paused for a moment, trying to choose your words carefully. “But no matter how cruel of a male you seemed to the outside, you were always kind to her… other than making her drink on faerie wine and parading her around at night.” You said. “Eris never did that to me…”

“He still kept you with him all those years. He could’ve given you away, let you stay with me. He could’ve-“

“He was protecting me.” You simply stated.

“Why?”

“Because I’m his mate!” You yelled. You knew you were screwed the moment the words left your mouth. Why did you just say that?

Rhys blinked. The only way he showed his shocked. “No, he isn’t.” He said.

“Yes he is. The bond snapped for me last week.” You said. “Before he was High Lord.”

“He’s tricked you. You can’t be his mate.” He said.

“My walls are stronger than yours, Rhysand. He couldn’t trick me if he wanted to. I am his mate. And he is mine. And he took care of me when no one else did.” You said, holding your head high. “As soon as I get back from Summer, I am going to Autumn and offering him food.” You said.

“And what? Leave your home? For that family? For him?” Rhys growled.

“For my mate. For the male that protected me and helped me and kept me sane for 50 years. For him, the male I love.” You said.

“No,” Rhys said, shaking his head. “He isn’t your mate. He must have tricked you… you won’t be going to Autumn.” He said.

You rose your eyebrows. “And how are you going to stop me?” You asked.

“I won’t let you leave.” He said.

“What are you going to do? Restrict me to the Night Court?” You asked. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Why?”

“To protect you.”

“That’s not protection, Rhys. That’s imprisonment.” You said, searching his eyes. It occurred to you then that he might not be kidding. Rhys was notoriously protective of you. And he would go to far lengths to keep you from harm in his mind.

“You won’t leave this room, (Y/N), unless you promise you won’t go to Autumn.” He said.

“I won’t promise that. I’m not going to stay away from my mate.” You said. “And you can’t keep me here.”

“I will.” He said, taking a step out of your room.

“And what are you going to do? Block my path all night?” You asked, seething.

“No. There are wards around your room now. If you try to leave, you’ll see what happens.” He said.

Your eyes widened at the thought of being trapped in a room. “What?” You asked, your voice cracking.

“Unless you agree to never accept the bond with Eris, you’ll be in this room. And the wards won’t let anyone else but me in and out.” He said.

Your breathing started to quicken, walking towards the door but stopping right in front of it. “Rhys, do not lock me in this room.” You said, tears brimming your version.

“Do you promise to not go to Autumn? To not mate with Eris?” He asked.

“No.” You said quietly.

“You’re meant to be gone for two weeks. I’ll come back then to see if you’ve changed your mind.” He said.

“Rhys, please.” You begged, stepping forward again. You watched as he walked away, your breath catching in your throat.

“Rhys!” You yelled, taking a step to leave the room but coming in contact with a clear hard wall. “Rhys!” You sobbed, backing on the invisible door. You took a step back, trying to find your breath. “Rhysand!” You yelled again, only for your door to slam shut in front of you.

You fell to the floor, banging on the door. “Rhys!” You begged again, leaning your forehead against the. Your vision blurred, the walls closing in on you. Suddenly, you were back Under the Mountain. Trapped in that room with no wind or no windows. Eris healing from his wounds.

Your sobbed shook your body as you tried to breath. You closed your eyes as you sunk to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest.

"Rhysand!" You let out a scream, so primal and raw that your throat strained.

You continued shaking, sobbing, hyperventilating as you rock yourself back and forth. You tried to convince yourself you were safe. You weren't hurt. But you couldn't leave. Couldn't get out of this room if you tried. You couldn't see your mate.

Your sobs overtook your breaths as you lost focus, shaking at the feeling of desperation. You were trapped in this room. You couldn't get out. Wouldn't get out unless you promised something terrible to your brother. Your brother who you thought loved you. But someone who loved you wouldn't do this. They wouldn't trap you in a room after what happened Under the Mountain. What would Feyre do when she found out about this? Would Rhys keep you here longer than 2 weeks? Would you be trapped here forever.

The walls continued closing in on you as your mind spiraled deeper and deeper. When you had the strength to open your eyes, the room was dark. Your powers couldn't get you out, but they consumed you. The darkness wasn't welcomed though. It only made your breath quicken more. No light. No windows. No Eris.

How would you live like this?

Part Three

A/N: GODS this was a good one to write... can you imagine what Eris is going to do when he finds out what Rhys did????

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[nestaians]

tamlin didnt have time to heal from everything that happened in past 50 years, UtM and seeing feyre die

but his court needed him and as the high lord of spring court, he put his people first unlike certain someone

he knew there would be repercussions for him killing amarantha and for feyre so he was on guard and paranoid

sure, he should have found someone to help feyre and train but i think he wanted to let her be for a while and not make her powers known -i think he says that in dawn meeting?- bc then other high lords could come for her since she has their powers

he had his own trauma, why is his trauma swept under the rug?

everyone talks about him not being there for feyre but where was feyre for him? they were in a relationship

it didn’t help tamlin was in unknown territory with a newly made fae feyre, who wanted to jump first into things and couldn’t take a no for an answer

it doesn’t help a big part of his trauma was and is connected to feyre. seeing her probably didn’t help, being reminded of her dying in front of him, but he was worried about her to be away so it was a cycle they were stuck in

this is why tamlin and fae feyre were never going to work. their relationship died when human feyre did

tamlin had to watch rhysand do what he did to feyre UtM for months, so when feyre was taken to night court, it made sense why tamlin reacted like that

rhysand is the villain in everyone’s eyes, his own actions have backed it up

mind u, rhysand and his father killed tamlin’s mother so why would tamlin be okay with his loved one in rhysand’s hands?

most of the things tamlin did post UtM that makes sense once you see it from his pov

but tamlin doesn’t get the sympathy like rhysand does. tamlin isn’t forgiven for what he did to feyre but rhysand is

“rhysand did what he did UtM to protect and help feyre” actually, he didn’t have to do any of that!

at least tamlin apologised to feyre without making it about poor oh him

at least tamlin brought rhysand back from dead and wished feyre happiness without anything in return

if it was the other way around, i promise you rhysand wouldn’t have done the same

rhysand actions towards tamlin in novella proved he is anything but good

but tamlin is the villain. tamlin doesn’t deserve a book

he does but i don’t think sjm can write tamlin’s story -she couldn’t write for nesta nor she knows how to hold feysand accountable- but he does deserves a book and happiness

tamlin gave lucien a home. tamlin fought for his people, all of them and they were loyal to him until feyre destroyed everything

the spring court deserves to be flourishing again and so does their high lord, tamlin

[crossfandomslut]

At Peace in Your Fire pt. 3

part 1 and part 2

Summary: Hewn City bs and lots of Eris screen time haha

Pairing: ErisxArcheron!reader

Word Count: 4k

Notes: I am so so excited that people are liking this story so far !!! I love all your comments and am so appreciative of the likes and reblogs ! For this chapter, I did use a big chunk of the direct dialog from ACOWAR for the Hewn City meeting with Eris, because I think its important context and I wasn't about to rewrite SJM's mastery. So disclaimer, I do not own any of SJM's characters or speak for her or them in anyway ! This is just for shits and gigs and I hope y'all enjoy this chapter ! Also please let me know how we feel about the Eris POV :)

Amber eyes and a pale face littered in freckles, framed by fiery red hair,  stared wildly at her. Eyes full of fear and confusion contorted his beautiful features. He was stunning, truly. Rakish, almost lanky, but toned muscles rippled under his well-fitted clothes as he fell to the ground gripping and clawing at his throat, trying to force air back into his lungs. Y/n did that to him. She made another being feel that pain and suffering. But he was hurting her sister. He was hurting Feyre. Y/n didn’t know why she had to remind herself of that fact so often to justify her actions that day on the frozen lake, but she had fallen asleep thinking about the male every night since.

Now that Feyre was home, things started moving pretty quickly. Hybern was making moves in the Spring Court to bring down the wall to the human lands, and thus putting Prythian on the brink of another war. Everyone was hard at work planning, coordinating, and scheming, but Y/n was told to just keep training. She wanted to be useful when the time came, so she was going to need to hone her powers and her physical abilities. She finally got to be a part of the plans when Rhys announced at family dinner that everyone would be taking a trip to Hewn City.

Y/n wasn’t afraid per-say, but she wasn’t sure what to expect. Feyre had told her that Amarantha’s ‘lair’ for lack of a better term, was designed after the city. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see that firsthand after hearing about everything that Feyre and Rhys went through. She was going to put on a brave face though. It’s not about her. It was about helping this court, her new family, and potentially the fate of the world as they knew it.

She studied herself in the mirror after selecting the right dress. Rhys had told her to wear whatever color she wanted, but she knew that this visit to Hewn City was all about appearances and she needed to help show that they were a united front. She had never been fond of black. It always looked so good on her twin, but Y/n preferred softer, neutral tones that helped her blend into the trees and underbrush. Tonight however, she would step out of her comfort zone. Adapt. Her constant mantra. So, she studied herself in the mirror, eyes gliding along her body that was no longer too thin, but now tones and showing real muscle. Her hips were wider, her arms and thighs thicker. A body to fill out such a fine dress. It was a floor length gown, as black as obsidian. It had see-through long sleeves and a modest neckline. Nothing flashy, she didn’t need to draw attention to herself, she just needed to blend in and help silently from the dais. But as she looked at herself, she thought that she looked quite pretty. She always thought she was the most plain of her sister, even now as Fae, but tonight, Y/n would try to wear this dress with confidence and that casual coolness that came so naturally to all the others.

 Eris’ POV

 That beautiful female on the frozen lake haunted him every waking and sleeping hour of Eris’ life. The way she literally took his breath away. If it weren’t for her power actually stealing the air from his lungs, her beauty alone would have stopped him in his tracks. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his many centuries of existence. He could help but laugh when she stormed up to him in the Winter Court wearing little more than pajamas. He shouldn’t have laughed. If the Illyrians thought she was important enough to bring along, he shouldn’t have underestimated her. He saw her face every time he closed his eyes. Her y/e/c orbs staring straight into his soul. It ratted him, which not much did anymore.

Eris hated Hewn City and he hated Keir. He was so tired of playing these court games and scheming behind the scenes. He knew Rhys liked to make an entrance, but he was growing bored and restless. Until he saw her. She was just as beautiful as the first time he saw her, but now, dressed in a night court black gown, she didn’t glow like she did when she was comfortable in her chestnut brown pants and a forest green sweater. Who is she?

Y/n’s POV

Stood atop the dais behind the single throne that Feyre and Rhys shared, Y/n scanned the room. Doing her best to keep her face carefully neutral, she stood there while Rhys addressed the court introduced Feyre as their High Lady, and coolly demanded that they kneel. After a long pause, the whole room on their knees before them, he released them to enjoy the festivities.

A man with blonde hair, that Y/n identified as Keir, Mor’s father only by blood, approached the dais. Then, the last person she expected to see approached as well. The male from the lake, with the glowing amber eyes and hair that reminded her of a maple trees falling red leaves. She swore her heart stopped beating when he made eye contact with her as he bowed. Not to Rhys or Feyre, but to her.

“Keir. Eris. So kind of you to join us. But don’t be so eager to get our meeting over with, go enjoy the evening. Azriel’s shadows will find you when we’re ready.” Rhys slid his bored gaze over each male and waved a hand in dismissal.

Eris. That was his name. Eris Eris Eris. The name clanged around her brain, and she had to choke back the desire to know how it felt on her tongue. She knew his name now and it made falling asleep to picturing his face feel like she was violating him in some way. She knew she shouldn’t have been thinking about him in the first place. He tried to kill her sister, or bring her back to his father who was a known tyrant and took brutality to another level. She should definitely not be thinking about him. But there he was. And gods damn he was even more devastating than she remembered. For starters, he wasn’t covered in blood, and she wasn’t choking the daylights out of him. But more than that, he had this air about him. He exuded a confidence that was purely Fae male and came from centuries of a life lived. Then she remembered the way that fire had danced from his fingertips. He could wield flame like an extension of his own body. It was beautiful. Y/n once again had to reprimand herself, because those same beautiful flames coming from his long, calloused fingers, were causing harm and pain to her own sister. That light and radiance that fire had was diminished in the context of it’s use. How dare he make Y/n fear something she loved so dearly? How dare her use fire, which is the root of all life, use it to hurt and destroy?

Y/n was snapped out of her daydreaming by the sound of someone clearing their throat. She realized Eris had not broken eye contact with her and was now starring at her expectantly. With no small amount of embarrassment, she realized she was probably just standing here gazing into his eyes while her whole family stood there and watched. He cheeks heated and Eris’ smirk grew.

“I asked you for a dance, lady…?”

“Y/n, you do not have to dance with him. Honestly, you don’t even have to talk to him.” Rhys said.

“Y/n...” She hated how much she liked her name falling from his lips. “Just once dance, Lady Y/n, and I’ll share what I know of the Spring Court in our meeting this evening.” Still smirking, he held out a hand.

“Fine.” Y/n unceremoniously slapped her hand into his. Just because she was practically vibrating with anticipation of being so close to the male, didn’t mean he needed to know that. And neither did her family. For all anyone else knew, she hated Eris as much as they all did. She certainly should if she knew what was good for her. Gods, what was wrong with her!?

That smirk turned into a cocky grin as Eris led Y/n to the dance floor. He tugged on her hand still held in his and pulled her close to his body. Not pressing against her, but close enough that she could feel the heat coming off his body. He was unnaturally hot being a fire wielder, but Y/n never minded the heat. Even found herself having to hold back from pressing every inch of her against the warmth. He stood close to a foot taller than her, and she had to tilt her head up to lock eyes with him. She was met with amber eyes dancing with amusement, and he was met with a cold hard glare.

Eris blew out a soft laugh and asked, “why, little dove, do you hate me so much? We don’t even know each other yet.”

Y/n tried not to linger on the ‘yet’ as she leveled him an incredulous glare. “You mean aside from the fact that you chased my sister across a frozen lake, blasting fire at her and then restrained her with said fire?”

He had the audacity to laugh again. “Yes, Y/n, aside from that. I would very much like to know you. You hating me makes that slightly difficult.”

Gods that smirk. Y/n was trying to think straight as he floated her around the dance floor like it was nothing. She hoped he didn’t realize she was using her magic to keep herself from tripping over her own feet or stepping on his. He was such a beautiful dancer. And the truth was, she wanted to know him too. But instead she said, “you use your gift of fire to hurt others. You use that delicate flame to inflict pain and fear.” She desperately hoped her voice was staying steady, but then he scoffed at her and the leash she had on her temper slipped from her fingers. She feels her voice raising and her cheeks heating as she goes on. “Fire is not meant to cause pain, Eris!”

He halts their movement. That was enough to make her blink and remember where they were. Her eyes and her voice soften as she tries to look straight into his soul and speak directly to it. Her hands drift to hold both of his in her much smaller ones. “Fire is beautiful and lovely and soft and warm. Fire is nurturing and breathes life into everything. Fire is a gentle protector and a kind companion. I am so sorry someone told you otherwise and that you’ve been told to use it as a weapon.” He just blinked at her for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly the music stops, and the room erupts into applause for the musicians. “Eris…?” Y/n sys his name as gently as she can, but he pulled away from her so fast and muttered an ‘excuse me’ before he turned on his heels and practically ran out of the ball room.

Y/n stands there until someone accidently bumps into her and jolts her out of her head and back into her body. Slowly, she makes her way back to the dais staring at her feet, still not totally present. She looks up when she reaches her family only to see them all with a hand over their mouth to choke back a laugh. “What?” Y/n’s brow scrunches and she tilts her head in confusion.

Cassian is the first to break, laughing so loud a few partygoers jump and glasses shatter. The next is Mor, and finally, Feyre asks through tears in her eyes and a barely concealed giggle, “What the hell did you say to him!?”

Y/n just took her spot on the dais next to Feyre and Rhys as they laughed and laughed together and resumed staring at the floor trying not to be eager to see Eris at the meeting later this evening.

Eris’ POV

He had to get out of there. Had to get out of that room that felt too similar to under the mountain and away from that female who was far too gentle and kind to be anywhere near him. ‘The Mother must really hate me’ he thinks as he reaches the city’s edge and can finally breathe again. He knew the shadowsinger would find him soon and call for the meeting, but before then he needed to regain his composure. Y/n didn’t need to use her power to stop his breathing and make his heart race.

He took a few deep breaths and the shaking in his hands and the ache in his chest eased slightly. His mind drifted to the feeling of her in his arms, how well they danced across the floor together and how lovely her hands felt pressed to his chest. ‘Fire is not meant to cause pain’ Y/n had said. The words had come from her mouth with such passion and determination that he almost believed her. He wanted to. Gods did he want to believe her and her kind words and her cold calloused hands that soothed his burning skin. There was no way for Y/n to have known his father had struck him across the chest just this morning. A show of power after his father bested him during sparring. The punishment for winning would have been far more gruesome. Y/n’s cold unassuming hand placed directly over where his father’s had left the flesh raw and painful. Her lovely hand placed there while she looked him in the eyes and told him that fire wasn’t meant to cause pain and that she was sorry. He couldn’t believe she was real, and his need to know her just grew tenfold. But he wasn’t good enough for her. He wasn’t good. He should keep his distance and save her the misery of his company again.

Eris was dreading the mask he would dawn in this meeting and the monster she would think of him as afterward. A shadow wrapped around his wrist and tugged. It was time. Eris schooled his features into the calm, bored, arrogant heir, winnowed back into the halls of the palace, and sauntered his way into the meeting.

Y/n’s POV

The meeting was nothing of what Y/n expected. Eris came in, and straight up avoided eye contact with her. She couldn’t lie, that stung a bit.

He sat across from Rhys, but looked to Mor with a knowing glint in his eye and said, “you look well, Mor.”

“You don’t speak to her,” Azriel said softly.

Eris gave a bitter smile. “I see you’re still holding a grudge.”

Y/n was so confused.

“This arrangement, Eris,” Rhys spoke, “relies solely upon you keeping your mouth shut.”

Eris huffed a laugh. “And haven’t I done an excellent job? Not even my father suspected when I left tonight.”

Feyre glanced between her mate and Eris. “How did this come about?”

Apparently, Feyre was just as lost as you were.

Eris explains that he caught Azriel’s shadows snooping around the Autumn court after they returned from the frozen lake, and that his brothers ‘mysteriously’ forgot about Feyre’s powers. He said that he had taught himself a few things about daemati powers and how to block them out. He says that he didn’t tell his father because he knew that Baron would want to hunt Feyre down and kill her for his belief that she stole part of his power. He doesn’t believe that Baron knows just how much of a threat Hybern is, but that he wont join forces with them if he finds out about Feyre’s powers.

“So what’s the asking price for you silence then, Eris?” Mor demanded. “Another little bride for you to torture?”

All the blood drained from Y/n’s face as her eyes darted between Mor and Eris. Her head hurt from trying to put this puzzle together without having all the pieces. She knew that Mor’s father had tried to marry her off and Mor took control of her own fate by sleeping with Cassian, but she hadn’t known the male she was sold off to was supposed to be Eris. The pounding in her head did not cease.

Something flickered in Eris’ eyes. “I don’t know who fed you those lies to begin with, Morrigan,” he said with vicious calm. “Likely the bastards you surround yourself with.”

A sneer from Azriel. And a sharp intake of breath from Y/n. If he had looked at her she would have seen the brief flash of guilt in his eyes.

Mor snarled, rattling the glasses. “You never gave any evidence to the contrary. Certainly not when you left me in those woods.”

“There were forces at work that you have never considered,” Eris said coldly. “And I am not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me.”

“You hunted me like an animal,” Feyre cut in. “I think we will choose to believe the worst.”

Y/n didn’t know how to feel. Couldn’t think of anything to say or do, so she just dropped her gaze to the floor. She shouldn’t come to Eris’ defense. She just met the male and apparently her gut feeling about him was wrong. Her family hated him and he hurt Mor. Something didn’t feel right, but what would she even say? There were literal centuries of bad blood between her found family and this male who for some gods forsaken reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about. This arrogant, spiteful, male who attacked her sister! Not just Feyre it seems, but Mor as well. Even if he didn’t have direct hand in harming her, he didn’t help her. Why didn’t he help her? Her head was still spinning trying to sort through all these conflicting feelings. She felt like she needed to come to Eris’ defense, but why? Maybe because she felt deep down in her soul that no one ever had. She could feel that he was good, so why were his actions such the opposite? The pounding in her head wouldn’t stop and she felt as if she might faint. The conversation starting to sound like they were underwater.

“I was given and order. And sent to do it with two of my…brothers.”

“And what of the brother you hunted down alongside me? The one whose lover you helped to execute before his eyes?” Feyre accused.

Eris slammed a hand on the table, which did nothing to help Y/n headache. No one seemed to notice her flinch and start to sway. “You know nothing about what happened that day. Nothing.”

“Indulge me,” was all Feyre said in response.

“How do you think he made it to the Spring border,” Eris’ voice had returned to its normal low and sharp nature. “I wasn’t there- when they did it. Ask him. I refused. It was the firs and only time I have denied my father anything. He punished me. And by the time I got free… They were going to kill him too. I made sure they didn’t. Made sure Tamlin got word- anonymously- to get the hell over to his own border.” Eris picked at a stray thread on his jacket, “not all of us were as lucky in our friends and family as you, Rhysand.”

Sharp, stabbing, shooting pain ran through Y/n’s head and it was so surprising that she let out a yelp as she dropped to the floor, and everything went black. The last thing she remembered hearing was the voice of Eris’ panicked voice crying her name.

Taglist: @abysshaven @myromanempiree @lilah-asteria @96jnie @ivy-34 @minaethrym

[youareatragedy]

As much as people criticize the Archeron sisters (which a lot of the time I can agree with especially when it comes to Feyre), I think we have to remember that these are early-to-mid-twenties women. They’re traumatized and might be more easily influenced by 500-year-old powerful fae.

So while I want Feyre to serve at least a century in maximum-security prison for what she did to the Spring Court alone, I also want Rhysand to receive at least 15 death sentences. Every time he almost dies, they could bring him back just to inject him with lethal poison again. And I want the Illyrian and CoN women to handle at least the first 10 executions. You know what I’m saying?

Yes, I would breathe a sigh of happiness and relief if I never had to hear about Feyre again. But my hatred toward Rhys… toward Cassian… and toward how SJM and the fandom keep portraying them (especially Rhys and Cassian) as “babygirl” or hot dudes who are oh-so-considerate about the well-being of women everywhere? Unmatched.

Rhysand should be in prison for 1000 years for whatever he did as Amarantha’s right hand. And yes, that’s already a reduced sentence because apparently “he was just trying to protect his family and he had no choice” is a valid reason to be exonerated. I mean, fuck justice for the people who suffered under Rhys's own hand, am I right? “He was just doing his job.”

Meanwhile, Cassian deserves a century in a mental institution for thinking it was okay to avenge his mother by slaughtering an entire village. There must have been at least a handful of people who didn’t even know who his mother was or were helpless and couldn’t have done anything to save her anyway. Nepotism, am I right? No real consequences for him, of course. Oh, and what kind of psychopathic asshole tells his mate he feels shackled to her, knowing her self-esteem is nonexistent? Disturbing fucker.

Lord of Bloodshed my ass. Lord of the Night Court? No, it's Lord of Velaris of "I Love Parading My Very Very Young Wife Around Almost Naked And Spreading Her Arousal Scent Everywhere."

Fuck the IC, and especially fuck those two. Stay away from the sisters.

[acourtofaudacity]

Oh so I'm delusional? Because I don't think that your ship is going to be endgame? There's multiple reasons I don't believe it is and it's not just about how many interactions Elain and Lucien or Azriel and Gwyn have had (notice how I haven't censored any names?) Ignore if anything is rushed or anything I'm really sick atm.

1) Lucien was supposed to be Nesta's mate but SJM said Elain and Lucien took her by surprise. Would a rejected mating bond take you by surprise?

2) Elain has a lot of Spring imagery surrounding her. For example her scent as been described as a promise of Spring. It's also mentioned that the Spring court almost seems made for someone like Elain. She loves flowers and gardening and sunshine. Lucien called the Spring Court home. Sure it's not where he was born but he called it home he had to stop himself from saying that

3) Elain enjoyed parties and talking to wealthy and important guys. She liked being part of high society. Lucien fits the high society bill.

4) Lucien and Elain share similarities both in personality and in the sense they can both see things that others can't (Elain is a seer and Lucien can see through spells and glamours).

5) Lucien looks at Elain with "sadness and longing". If it was a fake mating bond why would he do that?

6) Elain and Lucien's plot lines cross I.e. Koschei and Vassa but Azriel and Elain's don't really cross so I don't see any significance of them getting together in terms of plot

7) Why would it be an important detail to add that Azriel felt something spark in his chest? Why would all his interactions with Gwyn be mentioned if she wasn't going to be important?

8) Lucien cared about Elain when she wasn't well. People have said that's him not respecting boundaries by going in to see her but he was genuinely worried about her not eating enough. He knew she needed to go outside sure Amren did too but the Ic was more concerned with how Elain could be useful to them.

I could go on and on but I'm too tired and my brain isn't working as well as it usually does.

[izanna]

I’m taking over this theory since I helped with it, I will not tolerate hate or harassment from EITHER side of the ships. If you are an Elriel and you don’t like this theory, MOVE ON. It was made in fun to troll and then we found merit in it and actually had fun with it.

If you are a GA and you don’t like this theory

That’s okay but respectfully move the fuck on, yall didn’t wanna claim it until we did this.

And for anyone who comes at me saying because that would make Gwyn evil and the evil elriels only said it to make Gwyn evil, a vast majority of elriels do not think Gwyn is evil even if she is a LS.

The current and most recent theory is that LightSingers will probably be like Suriel. Misunderstood because that is what SJM does commonly with her creatures.

A vast majority of elriels believe Gwyn if she is a lightsinger does not know and her powers are unintended.

While my friend did write this up; the hate she received was unjustified and disgraceful from every side. So I will take it all. if you're going to be rude, say it with your chest. my asks are open, and you can comment all you want. I won't respond to anons tho ;) you might as well be invisible dirt to me if you ask anything hateful anonymously.

Link for the OG theory post down below. 👇🏼

Now, obviously, there isn’t solid evidence for this, but hear me out. Lightsingers are described as lovely, ethereal beings—charming, beautiful, seemingly harmless. They can lure someone into their trap. Which, okay, is not something Elain has done yet, but let’s be real—if anyone in this series has the range to be cute and terrifying at the same time, it’s her.

And if we’re going with the idea that each Archeron sister has a symbolic “sister peak” to conquer—Feyre’s was Under the Mountain, Nesta’s was Ramiel—then Elain’s might be the Prison. Which would make a lot of sense if she had some kind of power to soothe or control the monsters lurking inside.

Another thing about Elain is that she is always associated with light. She’s the loveliest and most beautiful of the Archeron sisters, the one described as “a face that could bring kings to their knees.” And yet, despite all of this delicate imagery, we know she’s capable of violence when necessary. Perhaps not as a warrior with a sword, but with her own deadly ability.

Which brings me to the thing that made this theory really click for me: the phrase from the Book of Breathings that’s been haunting me. Love me. Touch me. Sing me. Feyre is love. Nesta is touch. And Elain… is sing.

Think about how Truth-Teller was described as a “bridge” between light and dark, between death and the lovely fawn. Azriel, a literal shadowsinger, paired with Elain, a lightsinger? Two beings who balance each other in ways no one else could? It’s the ultimate yin-yang dynamic, two sides of the same coin, opposites that only make sense together.

And this is where it gets even more interesting. In House of Sky and Breath, there’s a moment where a six-pointed star is described: “Two intersecting triangles. Male and female, dark and light, above and below … and the power that lies in the place where they meet.”

That six-pointed star represents balance—two forces that seem opposite but are, in truth, complementary. And when we apply that same concept to the ACOTAR world, we get something eerily familiar: the three sisters and the three brothers. Feyre and Rhys, Nesta and Cassian, Elain and Azriel. All of them marked by power in some way, by a connection to darkness and light, by abilities that—when combined—could be necessary for something far greater in either this next book or the one after it.

One last thing to think on: in ACOWAR, Feyre looks at a painting she once made of the Spring Court and realizes, “The painting was a lie. A bright, pretty lie, bursting with pale pink blooms and fat beams of sunshine.” What if that line wasn’t just about the Spring Court? What if it was foreshadowing Elain? A character who appears soft and lovely and warm—who is those things—but who also holds something capable of darkness beneath the surface? The whole “fanged beast and trembling fawn” duality?

I don’t know. I just think it would be so interesting. We’d understand more about lightsingers and shadowsingers, we’d get to see a whole different side of Elain, and it would cement her and Azriel as two halves of a whole. Light and Darkness. Not just opposites, but the kind of opposites that cannot exist without each other.

The true fated pair.

[claws-and-all]

Unpopular opinions

Today’s been one of those days where all my least favorite theories regarding Tamlin have been popping up, so I thought I’d share some of my unpopular opinions in case anyone else feels the same.

1. Tamlin should not get his own book

From all the male povs we've seen thus far, it's evident that sjm struggles to write male characters with complex feelings. They tend to lack depth, have the libido of a teenager, and the romance aspect is nonexistent. This coupled with the way she handled Nesta's "healing" journey (a character she supposedly loves) - suffice to say, she will not do justice to Tamlin's journey nor his inner monolog.

On top of that, we don't need a Chaol 2.0 book. The only people I've seen enjoy Chaol's book are the haters who became slightly lenient towards him. I feel like that book was not meant for the fans who actually loved Chaol from the get-go (like me). It was yet another "healing" journey that did not heal him 😒 (it's been 7 years since it's release and I'm still mad at it 🙈).

Also, just like Tam, Chaol is another character that is hated by 90% of the fandom. His book had the worst timing. In-between a high stakes book where you NEEDED to know what happened next and instead, you're forced to read a book that took you completely out of the action. It garnered more negativity towards a character that was already so heavily hated upon. It was such an unfair thing that occurred, and his fans were the ones that had to deal with the backlash of our favorite character being torn apart by the fandom. I truly hope history does not repeat itself with Tamlin. The fandom is waiting for the elriel/elucien confirmation, and I can just see the hate pouring in if it's a book about Tamlin instead. He deserves infinitely better!

2. Tamlin and Lucien should never be friends again

I'm sorry, I know a lot of you love Lucien, I'm rather 50/50 on him. If elucien happens, it will mean Lucien is now a part of the NC family, bil to Rhys, friendly with the ic, uncle to Nyx, already friends with Nesta and Feyre. That's not the kind of energy Tamlin needs in his life nor the constant reminder of everything that he lost (Rhys is doing a fabulous job of that already).

I liked Lucien and Tamlin's relationship in book 1, but I was not a fan of how he kind of abandoned Tamlin for Feyre. It's like he became more her friend than Tams as the series progressed. I think Tamlin deserves a better friend - someone who will have his back and not his partners back. And someone not so heavily intertwined with a court that has caused so much pain to him. I can almost see Lucien slowly trying to convince Tam that the nc guys are actually "the good guys". Who knows, maybe he'll also pull a Feyre and compare Springs food to ash since nothing can come close to precious NC food, you know.

That being said, I have no idea where such friends will come from because every character we've met thus far automatically dislikes Tamlin and are fans of nc guys (still waiting for the explanation as to why Jurian, Vassa, Eris, and even Nuan are Tam haters?? Make it make sense, Sarah!).

Alternatively, I do love angst. I would love a storyline of Tamlin moving on with his life without Lucien. As in his future wife/mate/partner doesn't even know who Lucien is. Whilst Elucien is also thriving in the human lands/NC/DC/AC. Yet the entire time, they both feel like there's a missing piece in their life. They would see each other at HL meetings or balls. Yet they're too stubborn to speak to each other. Until decades later when one of them finally breaks the ice. The yearning and the hurt, love that shit lol

3. Tamlin x Briar?

Let’s keep that in the dark where it belongs. - nuff said!

4. Elain should not even look in the direction of Spring

Just because she likes gardening doesn't mean she should be spring queen 😑 I'm sure she can follow in the footsteps of her sister and brother in law and trespass into Spring if she needs to see flowers in abundance. It is afterall, nc tradition to lecture Tamlin in his own court and kick him in the shins. I really don't want to see her becoming friends with Tamlin, helping him rebuild Spring, making it her second home, etc etc etc. Like the point above, she and Lucien have enough homes to go back to. They don't need an extra one in Spring. And Tamlin doesn't need any more nc "friends".

[theegemini92]

I have a genuine question. Why do people cape for Elain? We know so little about her. Why do you like her? I really want to know.

Before you read don’t quote me, out of your own thoughts just tell me why you like her and I am all for non-warrior females especially MC in novels because the warrior mean girl trope is so played and overrated to me. All of us women come in shapes and forms with our own thoughts. It’s about time we start breaking this fantasy curse of warriors only. And I will say this ViVianne is my fave female character in ACOTAR. A female worthy of High Queen status.

Now personally have a lot against Elain though. I don’t know why people like her so much. My main issue with Elain that came to light in AcOMF is that she is just not the kind of person would be there for you in hard times. She won’t wait it out with you. I think this showed that with her and Nesta. their closeness was one sided.

• She always clung to Nesta because Nesta had the mean streak and will physically protect her.

• She is made rich by Tamlins so called blood money and she finds the next best thing to a king to marry. Now she’s fae the in a new utopia with little poverty and the next best thing who would protect her delicate self is Azriel the simp once again simping and pining for a female not his 🤣 And he clearly has money and a secure job. Why would she hang out with Lucien? No money no land, titles nothing and lives in the human world eating human food?

• She from Feyre pov laughs at her when Nesta is mean to her.

• she was always gardening. Gardening what? To me all that gardening was her burying dead bodies. 😂 It’s always the quiet ones.

• She does not out right rejects Lucien as a matter of fact she tries her best to ignore him and I get it she doesn’t know him and clearly wants nothing to do with him so why can’t she tell feyre, the one constantly bringing him over she doesn’t want to see him and accept the bond? What sort of game is that?

•is she not also an older sister to ferret? What did she do for ferret? Why does Nesta take the brunt of all the hate? Why is Elain IN THE SHADOWS like azriel? Why does everyone in her family protect her and has made the fandom do the same? I call bs honestly. In the original beauty and the beast all sisters or one was evil in the end but I know sjm would go with the direction of the triple goddess blah blah blah and she will be good etc. I love drama and if she is an evil sister I’d be here for it 🤣 but in the meantime I just don’t get it.?

• And don’t get me started on the whole theory of her being in the spring court we don’t want her there. her love for flowers etc.

Like someone explain to me why you like Elain Archeron? I don’t get it. 🤷🏽‍♀️

[separatist-apologist]

The Thing About Mor

I'm gonna say this and then I'm gonna shut up about it.

I don't think it's necessarily the fandom's fault for the way they read Mor, just as a disclaimer. Nor am I saying you are required to like her. Please reread those sentences before we continue.

The thing about Mor is that she's originally set up to be both a foil to the traditionalism of the Spring Court and a counterpart to Feyre's friendship with Lucien. Feyre is immediately struck by Rhys naming not Cassian or Azriel- who seem terrifying to her- as his second in command, but Mor.

Mor is also placed directly between Cassian and Azriel in what I think was originally supposed to be some kind of love triangle for the three, with the ultimate pairing as Mor and Azriel. I think the narrative of ACOMAF sets Mor and Azriel up as potential mates just waiting on a snapping bond, with Cassian as maybe her first choice given how she slept with him as a teenager.

Throughout ACOMAF, we see Mor as someone who can hold her own against the men in her lives. When they go to Hybern, Mor is the only warrior left standing and is the one who ultimately rescues them. She's also the person Rhys trusts to get Feyre in the Spring Court (ignoring the strange "politics" of why Rhys' second-in-command can break into Tamlins manor but the High Lord can't).

She is ALSO the person who goes to Feyre once Feyre realizes Rhys wasn't honest about the bond, and she's the one who asks "would it really be so bad to join our family?"

I don't know what changed for SJM. I think the nessian of it all ended whatever potential love triangle might have happened with Cassian-Mor-Azriel, and I've heard rumors she was getting a lot of pressure to make her stories more diverse (who was asking SJM, of all people, to tell a compelling queer story?). Regardless, somewhere between ACOMAF and ACOWAR, Mor's trajectory changes.

This is seen so clearly with the rise of Eris who, up until ACOWAR, is an undisputed villain in the story. Not just Lucien's story, but the story as a whole. We're told he holds Jesminda down while Beron beheads her, and he participates in tracking Lucien down with the intent to kill him. He gleefully watched Lucien tortured in the second trial UTM, and is willing to give up Feyre's name to Amarantha IF he knew it.

And in the beginning of ACOWAR, Eris is still the villain. He chases Lucien and Feyre across multiple courts at the behest of his father, presumably to hold Feyre ransom back to Tamlin in exchange for who knows what, and see Lucien executed. Eris's cruelty on the ice sets up a truly cinematic moment for Cassian and Azriel to come swooping in and save the day, and once again highlights our good guys (Lucien especially) and our bad guys.

And I do feel like somewhere in this passage, SJM falls in love with Eris and begins to give him the Rhys treatment at the EXPENSE of Mor. Rhys, who we're told, respects Mor over nearly everyone, unilaterally decides that they're going to trust Eris. There is no discussion to be had here. I think this creates a specific moment for readers to be like, okay well if Rhys did this without talking to Mor, then maybe he doesn't trust her. I don't even think its an explicit thought- but implicitly, whatever Eris shared with Rhys is enough to convince him of Eris's goodness over Mor's hatred. And I think that lends itself to a lot of the "maybe she's lying" theories that come about, ESPECIALLY after ACOSF and Eris telling Cassian that there was more that happened than Mor has shared with them.

Additionally, Mor is supposed to oversee Hewn City which means this deal SHOULD have included her because Kier's Darkbringers are part of her jurisdiction, but unless I misremember, this deal is brokered by Rhys, Eris, and Kier. So Mor's position in Hewn City feels ceremonial-I think this is partly because SJM ascribes to a very narrow definition of masculinity and power, and even though Rhys claims to share it, what she shows us does not match with the telling. Rhys decides what happens in Hewn City and he can make decisions without Mor's input so what's she even doing down there besides acting like decoration?

This is also where, I think, a lot of people get frustrated and confused because the "court of dreamers" are sold to us as a family. And in the confession between Mor and Feyre, we suddenly learn Mor is afraid to come out to the people she claims are her closest family. In our current understanding of the world and what it often means to be queer, your found family are supposed to be your safe people, the people you can be unapologetically yourself with ESPECIALLY when your blood relatives reject you. And here Mor is, telling us she is too afraid to come out to the point she sleeps with men specifically to keep Azriel off her back (unclear how that's helping) AND to not arouse suspicion.

So like- it's not a leap to understand why the fandom writes Mor off as a liar or someone that can't be trusted because SJM has inconsistently applied her personality in order to suit her narrative versus telling a consistent story with consistent characterizations. The fandom is left to string it all together and creative a cohesive story and I do think the problem with that is we don't agree.

Interpretations of the text vary, so on one end you have "I think Mor is lying because the narrative, whether it means to or not, is implying Mor shouldn't be trusted. Rhys no longer trusts her and is keeping secrets for her, and its through Rhys we're told Eris CAN be trusted." and on the other its "Mor isn't responsible for the men around her and is held to a different standard than the other characters who are better fleshed out (in part because they're associated with a man)."

Again, a lot of this is speculation. I don't know what SJM's true original plans were, nor can I speak with 100% authority why she changed them. I can say that SJM is notorious, across all her works, for changing motivations and characterizations to fit her narrative and that ACOTAR feels the most egregious. I don't think she ever had a solid plan for ACOTAR beyond the feysand romance, and everything else has been slapped together based on how she feels in the moment, which leads to a lot of the arguments and frustrations we currently experience around most of the characters, honestly.

[elrielsgarden]

Elriel: A Note on the ACOTAR Coloring Book

I don't know how I missed this before, but the official ACOTAR coloring book, which contains art for the first three books, indicates the couples SJM knew would happen in some of the spinoff books.

The coloring book was published in 2017, a year before A Court of Frost and Starlight was released. When the spinoff novels were announced, SJM said at one point that while writing A Court of Wings and Ruin she had stories she wanted to tell about some of the major side characters. We now know this included Nesta, and her love story with Cassian in A Court of Silver Flames.

So the coloring book: it features art of scenes between Nesta & Cassian and Elain & Azriel. Given how limited the coloring book is to be able to cover all three original books, this seems quite significant.

An image of Nesta standing before Cassian, her face set in what one could call her "I don't want Cassian to know I'm reading smut" face. The quote from A Court of Wings and Ruin is this:

The moment my shoes scuffed against the stone floor, she shot straight up, back going stiff, closing her book. Her gray-blue eyes didn't so much as widen as they beheld me. As I took her in. Nesta had been beautiful as a human woman. As High Fae, she was devastating.

The coloring book also chose to include the scene in which Azriel loans Elain Truth-Teller before the final battle of A Court of Wings and Ruin. The quote shared in this:

"This is Truth-Teller," Azriel told Elain. Elain's eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in his scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. "It has never failed me once," the shadowsinger said, the midday sun seeming to be devoured by the dark blade. "Some people say it is magic and will always strike true." He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. "It will serve you well."

We also see another image focused solely on Nesta, the moment in which she emerges from the Cauldron as High Fae in A Court of Mist and Fury.

I knew that she was different. From however Elain had been Made . . . Nesta was different. Even before she took her first breath, I felt it. As if the Cauldron in making her . . . had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought even after she went under, and had decided that of she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking that Cauldron with her.

Elain, too, is the focus of another illustration, this time from A Court of Thorns and Roses.

"These bulbs," Elain said, pointing with a gloved hand to a cluster of purple-and0white flowers, "came all the way from the tulip fields of the continent. Father promised that next spring he'll take me to see them. He claims that for mile after mile, there's nothing but these flowers." She patted the rich, dark soil. The little garden beneath the window was hers: every bloom and shrub had been picked and planted by hand; she would allow no one else to care for it. Even the weeding and the watering she did on her own.

It is no accident or coincidence that the two other Archeron sisters are highlighted this way in the coloring book. Nor is it coincidental that both Nessian and Elriel scenes are included either. No, it is not "proof" of Elriel. Look to the books themselves for that. However, it is another little piece in a long collection that all point in the same direction: Elain's book, and her love story with Azriel.

[room217prayer]

Bit of rambling about Acotar

With Tamsand undertones? Yes, of course.

Disclaimer: I'm in delulu land, these are only theories/ideas that came to my mind, in no way I'm expecting anything to happen (unfortunately I don't believe SJM did think these books so deeply and through, etc) but it's F U N. This is what fandoms are for, and I may criticize or say "I hate these books" all day long, so why I'm still talking about them? Because I CAN, and they have a hold on me, I seem unable to break free. Maybe I don't want to really (because once I get the hyper fixation goodbye and once I'm hooked with some characters I stay for them) and this post may have been born because of people who love to rain on other's excitement and fun in theorizing or enjoying things? Yes, so thank you.

Rhysand's Mother and her deal

Because, let's be honest, what was her deal with all the dresses and the ring?

And I mean... Why make the dresses then? Why give the ring to the weaver after Rhys reached adulthood and not wait? Why do all these things so soon, when there was no reason - technically - to think that something may happen to her, and she would not be able to set everything in motion before her death?

I have to say, I'm just re-reading the books after years, and I'm still only on the first, so maybe my memory is all muddled up, BUT! Rhysand never gave a reason as to why his mother (who is nameless, we know so little about her, except some of her background, she was mated to his father etc) did all of these things even before there was some kind of input on why she couldn't wait. By the 'canon events' it would've taken centuries before Feyre got to Prythian and the discovery she was his 'mate'.

So why did she do everything so... soon? Almost as if she knew her time was running out? Almost as if... She had reasons to do so.

Are the dresses she made enchanted to fit any type of body? Why give that ring to the WEAVER, so that his future mate could prove THEMSELVES to be so? The same ring she gave him as a symbol that she would always support him in the time he was away. It doesn't make a lot of sense, in my opinion.

Leaving aside the retcons, the rewriting of the books, or the possible lack of awareness from the author, all of these choices don't make a lot of sense, in this premise.

Why does Rhysand need to prove that his mate is worthy? When her husband saw her, felt the bond, and boom, married the same day, since it's so rare to have/find their mate? Why make all these dresses for this possible mate, not knowing anything about them? Why not make them when there was already an idea of who it could be?

Was she a seer? Was she able to know things that would happen in the future? If so, could she have known her time was running out?

Or was all of this a plot, a ruse from her, or... Rhysand? To make everything Feyre had to do, her stay in the Night Court seems more... romantic?

Something isn't adding up, the math is not mathing and all that.

Yes, it could easily be a human/writer's error, but, as I said: we are in Delulu land, where we take what the narrative is giving us and theorize on it, because it's fun.

And you know what it's more fun, other than think that it was Rhysand all along? That his mother did all of that at that time because she wished Tamlin would be Rhysand's mate.

He is the youngest son of the High Lord of Spring, an enemy of her husband and her court, so he had to prove himself worthy by stealing the ring from the Weaver.

The dresses? It would have been a fun silly thing and Tamlin would've ROCKED THEM, change my mind, but spoilers: you can't, especially thanks to Copypastu's masterpiece, so there's that.

(And if we want to go deeper: Tamlin is a shape-shifter. That's all I'm gonna say, fill in the blank for yourself asdasdasd)

And why not have more fun with: His mother did all of that for Tamlin, but then EVERYTHING happened and so Rhysand used that to blind Feyre from his plans? Have a bit of doomed Tamsand with evil Rhysand.

Personally, I love it, but still... I think something is perplexing about the whole situation, especially about her death (and that of her daughter/Rhysand's sister) and especially... Why the Weaver.

Why give the ring to the Weaver as a challenge, what did she give her for this task, favor? Was there a bargain? Or was there something else entirely? MHM

(Honestly, I have the memory of a fish, so if in my re-read I will stop and stare at the camera like in the office lol, lmao even, but still... It is something I have to pause and think about as of now)

And yes, the real retelling of Hades and Persephone was Rhysand and Tamlin, with Demetra being the High Lord of Spring, change my mind, but again, spoilers: you can't. That could have been one of the reasons he decided to go after Rhysand (and hence the death of the mother and sister and man, don't I love the fact we don't know even their names or anything? /sarcasm)

[elainsgirl]

no cause im tired of everything.

I'm sick of people talking about gwyn like shes the most important character ever. like yall don't actually care about her. they only like her cause shes involved with a batboy which is ridiculous. ("pro gwyneth" like be so fr... we barely know anything about her??? Like I like gwyn but stop making stuff up about her and saying shes saving the world.) that girl didn't show any romantic feelings towards him, so stop forcing it. (not to mention they never talk about emerie... interesting)

why is azriel getting shipped with everyone?? "gwyn is azriel's mate!" "no, its eris" "no, its bryce" "no, its mor" "no, its rhys dead sister" I LAUGH SO HARD AT THESE CAUSE WHERE ARE YOU GETTING THIS FROM???? I bet if azriel breathes next to anyone, they will automatically assume its his mate! leave the guy alone, my gosh.

"his shadows hate elain" just shut up. like fr.

"elain can go to the spring court and be with tamlin while az gets with gwyn and lucien gets with vassa" BAHAHAHAHAH. bro i cant even say anything to this because its ridiculous.

"if az finds his real mate, he will leave elain in a hurry" BRO. why do you guys think this man world revolves around wanting a mate so badly???? yall think so low of him its weird. if he wanted a mate oh so badly... he wouldnt go for elain! get that in your dumb heads!

now with the bonus chapter (elain and az part) im iffy about it. its good at the start but rhys and az argument gave me the ick but I understand what he meant either way. I can see why people didnt like azriel here. but to call him entitled is just WILD! he wasnt wrong questioning the cauldron. like why is he having all these mate behaviors towards elain when she has a mate??? I'd question the cauldron, too. feyre was so real when she said "why not make them mates" because they lowk fit no matter what anyone says.

now this was really irks me. "3 brothers and 3 sisters is so cliche" cliche??? bestie- do you see what we are reading??? the answer to the riddle was "love" out of all things. shut up with that dumb excuse. we have never seen 3 brothers and 3 sisters yet- well I havent. im pretty sure most of you havent either. if you read the BOOKS, you will understand that sjm uses the word 3 a lot. this is just common sense, people love to twist stuff.

Now dont get me wrong, I'll go for elucien or elriel. I dont care. but these gwynriels made me dislike az and gwyn together. like I used to go along with it but now they force it so badly "READ THE BONUS CHAPTER" "DID YOU READ THE BONUS CHAPTER" "maKe suRe yOu rEad iT cArEfuLly" "he chuckled with her" "they glance at eachother" "az and gwyn are going to save the world together" "i hope nesta, emerie, gwyn and az leave and make their own court" < (I fr saw someone say something like this) sister... I literally cringe! just please stop.

btw elriels gwyn isnt evil. stop saying that.

im so sorry for this rant. it just had to be said.

lmfao the need to vent is so real. This fandom TESTS your patience at times.

I think one of my biggest annoyances with Gwynriel is the fact that Gwyn doesn’t even like Azriel that way. Instead of focusing on how far she’s come, her accomplishments etc everything seems to go back to Azriel. If you ever truly look At gwynriel theories and headcanons the focus is always on Az and Gwyn doesn’t have much of a story by herself, she doesn’t lead a story. She is a follower/tag along. I will always say this again and again: If she was that important to the point of having anything to do with the prisons, trove, TT/Gwydion she would have been introduced earlier on in the series. It’s that simple. She has nothing to do w the prison, Koshei or even the daggers/made objects. Everything about gwynriel is forced - from Gwyn and Az having feelings for each other to their plot. Barely anything of that ship makes sense when you truly start to unravel it.

Az is getting shipped with everyone except who he truly wants and thats just comical. I guarantee you, If Az interacted with any other woman - gwynriel shippers would split so fast and some will start shipping him with the new woman.

“His shadows hate elain” … why were they ready to strike Nesta all because she insulted elain? They also speak so can’t they literally just tell Az “hey man, we dont like elain”. Then part of this claim comes from the fact Elain made his shadows skitter which is something Az does himself.

I so want Elain to go to Spring and mention how she finds it stiffling/claustrophobic. Elain going to spring to live there is ignoring everything about her character and only focusing on the fact she likes flowers and by their own logic, Nesta should go to Day and Feyre to a more artistic court.

If Az soley wanted a mate and was so desperate for one - why on earth is he pining for someone WITH A MATE. It literally defeats the purpose of him getting a mate. Also its such a stilt to his character for him to want a mate and then get one. It doesn’t allow character growth and makes the idea of “mates” seem as a prize instead of this romantic connection. If he wanted a mate so badly, this man would be going after women with no mates. Not one that has a mate. The logic behind this arguement is so stupid,

Azriel’s bonus to me parallels Feyre’s whole scene where she questioned the cauldron because of Azriel. It was Sjms way of bringing it back and reminding us of it. Telling us “look! Another character is doubting elucien’s bond! Why is Az questioning the cauldron” etc. The only part of Azriel’s bonus where I got the ick aside from his and gwyns’ awkward conversation- is when he said Lucien doesn’t deserve Elain. I get where that statement was coming from but he isn’t someone to decide who deserves who. This is what doesn’t make sense: antis call Az entitled for simply WONDERING why Elain was given to Lucien, he hs made no move to break elucien up. He hs not forced anything onto Elain. He doesn’t dictate or control her interactions with Lucien, the fact he hadn’t planned a future for them either all show he is far from acting entitled. But eluciens needed a way to make Az seem bad and lucien better hence why latched onto this argument when it doesn’t make sense given what we know about Azriels character, his thoughts, actions and what he said in the bonus.

“3 sisters and 3 brothers is cliche” whilst reading a romantasy series ( a genre filled with repetitive cliches) by an author who claims to be the queen of cliches. Every single fated mates ending up together? Cliche. Omg the trainer and his trainee fell in love? How unique. Its not like that is also a popular trope. I cannot give you any book/s in which 3 sisters end w 3 brothers, I however can pull out multiple books with the fated mates/warriors/trainerxtrainee tropes.

Too bad. Mass loves the IC - There is no reason why Nesta/valkryies and Az would go to another court. Wait - but the night court is Azriels home. Its where he belongs, unlike Elain who has to leave…but now they want Az to leave too? One thing you can trust antis to do is be consistent with their inconsistencies. Honestly, I was open to the idea of gwynriel but genuinely none of their theories or HCs make sense. In a general sense gwynriel is a good ship sure but you can generally ship any two characters together from the series. It doesn’t mean it’s happening & they’ll be endgame.

Gwyn definitely isn’t evil. However I do think she has the potential to become morally grey which im all here for.

[stargirlie25]

saw @acourtofthought mention something pretty interesting about book 1 and elucien.

It is the fact that Sarah wrote Elain and Nesta in acotar to simply be the evil sisters in Feyre's story. That Sarah had not anticipated to write stories about them until later.

Although Lucien in book 1, is a fleshed out character way more than the two sisters.

We figure out about his unresolved relationships with his brothers and mom.

We figure out what happened to him by Amarantha.

We figure out that his lover died.

This all alone has the backup for a main character.

While Sarah talks about Elucien she goes on to say ''I always thought he would be with Nesta" and considering Sarah said in 2015 that there is someone special for Lucien, it seems like she planned that either of the Archeron sisters would play a part in Luciens story.

Obviously a lot of that has changed including the fact that we have gathered even more unresolved plots for Lucien in the future books. (spring court,Friendship w tamlin,Role as HL,Helions son"

Its just the fact that from the get-go SJM assumed that Lucien vanserra was always meant to be with a Archeron.

While answering the question about all 3 couples (feysand,nessian,elucien) Sarah states that Nesta would worsen the deep unhealed wounds within Lucien and vice versa. Although Elucien has healing tension and growth and she makes sure we understand they go through it together.

As if right now, Lucien and Elain both have potential to be the main characters of the same book. Dealing with the biggest plot (koschei) and growing together with the side plots. (seer role, HL role)

To me its obvious Lucien will be with Elain.

One of the first personal things we find out about Lucien Is his lost love interest. Which alone screams a happy ending coming (AHEM dorian & Rowan)

Although SJM made Luciens love interest murdered.

She debated pairing him up with Nesta but did not because they would tear each other apart.

Then she made Lucien go through a rejected mating bond after stating its even worse for the males?....

Even though she states that he has deep unhealed wounds? Nah.

Sarah would not make Lucien suffer so much only to have him lose his mate then possibly end up with a human who will die long before him.