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ladyelain · 2 years

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Listen. Nesta and Elain weren’t initially written to ever be round characters. Sjm said herself once she only noticed later in the writing process there was more to each of them. They were meant to be anti-heroines at best, inspired by the "evil sisters" to make Feyre’s life appear even more tragic.

In acotar they almost seem cartoonish. Nesta, the eldest, as nasty and heartless as her mother. And Elain, the second, blindly following her sister, with no brain for herself.

The way they jump at Feyre’s money to spend it on new clothes, is a scene just straight-up taken out of Beauty & the Beast. They are meant to serve all the clichés. The reader is supposed to sympathise with Feyre.

… bruh

I feel like people who hate Elain or Nesta love to refer to these exaggerated first pictures we get of them. It’s easy to just take a look at all their mistakes and come to the conclusion that Elain is so naive and stupid and dull, and Nesta is just ignorant and mean.

But this portrayal of them is longtime outdated?! Feyre would’ve ended up with Tamlin in this version of the story. We’ve had an entire book about Nesta. We’ve seen her grow immensely. While Elain might not have developed as much yet, we especially see the dynamic of their sisterly relationship changing in acosf. For the better!

Everyone’s trying to blame one sister for their fallout. And that’s the point I don’t get. Because I’ve been waiting for nothing else since acotar. What’s happening between them right now is healthy and character-building for both of them. They finally show some depth, especially Elain.

Call me biased, but I don’t think Elain’s choosing the comfortable option, sticking with Feyre. She’s never done that. Feyre has always been the one providing for all of them. She has money now, but otherwise nothing’s really changed. I think Elain is doing what’s the best for Nesta in her eyes. Both, Nesta and Elain, have always done that for each other. Nesta has always protected Elain from the world, and Elain willingly took on the role of the protected one, giving Nesta some feeling of purpose and power, when there seemed to be no meaning left in their lives.

We finally see this construct crumbling in acosf, finally see them being forced to face their own demons each. Elain and Nesta are individual characters, even though they were once meant to be this unit of obnoxious sisters. They’re not two sides of the same coin. I mean, they’re so different!! I wish we stopped counting who did this and that. Isn’t it amazing they finally start overcoming this imbalance between them? That they start realising there’s only so much they can do for the other. I wish people in this fandom would get in their brains as well…

#why am i even trying lmao #not like anyones gonna be like oh she right i guess i will stop ranting now #anyway so #elain archeron #nesta archeron #elucien #sjm #acotar

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flysafepapi · 2 years

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siren song 6/?

masterlist

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Summary: He remembers the scent of her perfume, something that smelled strongly of rose, as she carefully closed the small window in the bedroom and crossed herself, whispering words under her breath that were too soft and quick for him to hear. His mother had turned and smiled at him, and even at that age he could see that she was trying to hide something behind it. Her voice had been shaky, whether with fear or anger he still doesn’t know, when she told him that he was going to be safe. The thought of asking what he was safe from hadn’t occurred to him at the time but he thinks he knows, now.

Tagging: @the-makingsofgreatness @zablife @lyarr24 (just let me know if you want to be added on or taken off)

It’s easier than Tobias thought it would be, to work at least semi-functionally while Sofia sits at the bar with her head resting on her hands while she watches his every move like she’s never seen someone working behind a bar before. It’s a carefully planned move to get under his skin, he’s watched her do the exact same thing to Arianne before, so it would be easy to ignore if he wasn’t so tense he could pass for a statue every time the doors open. It’s going to Tommy on the other side eventually, and while he pours drinks he tries to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable.

“Back again already?”

“Sorry?”

Tobias glances up from the double he’s pouring and curses silently to himself when John steps through the door with Arthur not far behind, both of them looking like they’ve already been at the drink for a good hour already. It’s not an uncommon sight, and they don’t even have to ask before Tobias is turning around and pulling the bottles of whiskey down, along with two clean glasses.

“You didn’t show up last night.”

“Right. Yes, much better. It must’ve been just a twenty-four hour sickness.”

“Don’t be rude, Tobias, introduce me.”

It takes every bit of the willpower he’s learnt over his many years to stop himself from reacting outwardly. Sofia grins at him, utterly unconcerned and clearly thoroughly enjoying this, and turns towards John with a smile.

“Best customers, more like,” he mutters under his breath, unheard by everyone except Sofia, and trains his eyes on the glasses and not the complete disaster of a scene that’s unfolding in front of him. Objectively, he knows that Sofia is an exceptionally attractive woman, and this isn’t a new thing, but it’s one thing to hear about it and another thing to witness it happen with people he’s friendly with.

“You’ve been holding out on us, keeping this beautiful woman away.”

“I think you’ll find I’ve been sparing you.”

“What are you drinking?”

The smile that Sofia gives has, Tobias knows, been the last thing some people have ever seen, and John’s own smile falters for a second as if he can sense that there’s something wrong happening here but can’t quite figure out what. It could be anything, really; the coldness of Sofia’s hand in his, the fact that her eyes are darker because she hasn’t fed recently, the unnatural sharpness of her teeth.

“I think I’m craving something red.”

“Sofia.”

“Don’t worry, Tobias. I won’t indulge too much.”

“Nothing wrong with-”

For a second, the entire room seems to freeze when the doors open again. Sofia eyes him curiously when she notices his slight pause, quickly putting two and two together, and she makes a small noise in the back of her throat when she figures it out.

“Evening, Mr Shelby.”

This is, hands down, one of the worst nights of Tobias’ life. He’s sitting in the small room, sandwiched in between Arthur and Sofia, desperately wishing he was anywhere else but here. Tommy looks vaguely amused at his distress, which should be irritating, but he has to bite down on his tongue to keep the slight smile off his face. Considering the smug look Sofia sends him, he fails completely.

“I’m only in the city for one night, so of course I had to meet all the friends Tobias has been making. He’s always been very solitary. We were all surprised to hear that he finally settled in one place.”

“We?”

“Our parents and siblings. There are a lot of us but we don’t see each other much, usually we communicate through letters if we need to. I’m on my way to meet up with a sister of ours, so we can travel together.”

“How many is a lot?”

Eight, with the recent addition of William. The agreed upon date for all of them to make the voyage home is fast approaching, and he’s not looking forward to it. They’ve settled somewhere in America, last he heard, and his last few trips there had been less than pleasant. He’ll still make the trip regardless.

“There are eight of us, and our parents. Of course, there’s also going to be wives, husbands, children.”

“Jesus. I thought the house was full enough with five of us.”

“It’s certainly never boring. So, Tommy, you’re the one that Tobias sent-”

“Shouldn’t you be leaving? You’ll miss your train.”

Sofia gives him a look, telling him that she knows exactly what he’s doing, but plays along this time.

“Of course. I must have lost track of time. It’s been nice meeting you all, I hope I see you again the next time I’m in the area. Tobias, walk me outside?”

It’s phrased like a question but he knows it’s not, and he follows her through the doors and down the street a little, just out of earshot for anyone that might be listening.

“Satisfied now?”

“He seems a little broody, but I can see the appeal. Not someone I would pick for myself, but-”

“Don’t tell them yet.”

“They’ll want to know. This isn’t just a minor slip-up, Tobias. This is serious.”

“I know. I’ll tell them, I promise. Just let me do that in my own time.”

For a second, he’s sure that she’ll say no, but eventually she sighs and nods like Tobias knew she would. Ever since they met, they’ve always looked out for each other, regardless of the situation. He loves the family he’s found, the family that found him more accurately, but the bond he shares with Sofia has always been just that little bit stronger.

“Fine. Fine, they won’t hear a word about it from me, but you better figure this out soon. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good. Alright, I really do have to go. You’ll be alright here?”

“I will. I’ll see you in three months, just like we all promised.”

He stays outside for a few more minutes after she’s gone, watching until long after she’s disappeared from sight down the road, and when he walks back inside it’s to Arthur and John putting their coats back on.

“Where are you going?”

“Wherever the night takes us, Tobias. Adventure is calling!”

“I think that’s a hangover calling, but each to their own.”

He waves a hand when they leave, getting to work on cleaning up the place. There’s still glasses sitting on most of the tables so he tackles those first, gathering them all up into his arms carefully and carrying them over to the sink. The bubbles fill the sink quickly, and it doesn’t sound like any glasses break when he submerges them into the water this time, which is a small victory.

“She seemed nice.”

“She is.”

Tobias doesn’t turn around. The screech that the ancient tap makes when he turns the water off makes him cringe, grating in his ears like nails on a chalkboard.

“You never answered my question.”

“Which one?”

“Why all the gifts?”

There are a lot of ways he could answer. He could divert the question again and turn the conversation around to something else. He could say that he has no idea what Tommy is talking about. He could reach out and make sure Tommy’s dead long before he hits the floor, though that’s just a more extreme version of the avoidance option. He could tell the truth.

“I sent them because I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“Does there have to be a reason?”

Tommy scoffs, “There’s always a reason.”

Behind him, the bubbles pop softly, and Tobias does what he’s always done. He risks it all on a gamble.

“Come with me.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“No. You’ll have to wait and find out when we get there.”

The alleys and streets are easy to navigate, he’s been up and down them enough times to almost have them memorised, and remembering the way back to the house he’s been living in had been his first priority when he got here. It’s about the time of the night when most people are already home safe in their beds, or on their way to doing just that, and the main sound that echoes against the brick walls is their footsteps. He keeps the door locked, and it only takes a second to unlock the door and open it to the darkness that lays on the other side.

“After you.” Tobias gestures towards the doorway, and laughs at the sceptical look Tommy throws him. “Calm down, I didn’t go through all this trouble to lure you here just to kill you. I’ll go first.”

Inside, the darkness is so complete that it’s hard for even Tobias to see anything, but he knows where to do and finds the stairs easily. Behind him, he can hear the sound of Tommy’s heartbeat. The rhythm has remained fairly steady until now, and it picks up more and more the further up the stairs they go.

“Here we are.”

“It’s a room.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.” He reaches out and takes Tommy by the shoulders, carefully manoeuvring him through the pitch black room until he’s standing more or less in the middle of the space. “Stay right here.”

“Where are you going?”

“Not far.”

He hears Tobias’ footsteps walking somewhere away to his left and shifts slightly but stays in place. There’s a strange sort of fear that comes from not being able to see a thing about where you are. Someone could be waiting three feet away with a hatchet and he wouldn’t be able to know until the first strike. After a few seconds, Tobias stops walking and Tommy hears him shifting things around instead. Boxes, by the sound of the scraping along the concrete.

“Ready?”

He has to raise an arm up to shield his eyes from the sudden light and even then it takes him a few minutes to blink away the spots dancing in his vision. When they’re gone, faded enough to be able to see, he lowers his arm and looks around the room. What he thought was Tobias turning the light on are actually windows, dozens and dozens and dozens of them lining the walls to the point that there’s more glass than brick.

Most of them are tilted, both backwards and forwards, so the moonlight reflects off of them and across to the window opposite, lighting the entire room up like it’s daylight. It’s the closest Tobias has gotten to daylight in a long time.

“It took a long time to figure out the exact angles. A lot of trial and error, a few cases of almost blinding myself when it reflected right in my eyes. As far as I know, no one else really comes up here. If they do, they haven’t touched any of the windows or these.” He lifts up the heavy covers he uses to cover the windows on the nights he feels like sleeping in this room. “I didn’t think anyone would be, I rent this place from a delightful old man, but it can’t hurt to take precautions.

“Why?”

“Why not? Not everything that makes people happy has to be explained. People pick flowers because they enjoy the scent, they read books because they like following along on someone else’s exciting adventures, they eat things they probably shouldn’t because they taste good. But in addition to that, there’s someone who plants the flowers because someone they love enjoys the smell. There’s someone who writes the books, and cooks the food.”

He pauses for a second, but when it becomes clear that Tommy isn’t going to say anything, he keeps talking.

“I used to draw when I was young. I’m sure I was no great talent back then, but my mother would exclaim over every piece of art of mine that she saw like it was a long lost painting from a long-dead artist. Drawing was something I liked to do, and it was made better by how much she enjoyed them.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“So you’ll understand.”

Though all the carefully adjusted windows reflect light from the moon and each other, lighting up the room in a cascade of light that Tobias can safely walk through without the threat of dying, the usual awe he feels in seeing it pales so completely to the sight of the light playing over Tommy’s face when he turns that it freezes him in place for a second.

“Understand what?”

“You wanted to know why I sent you the flowers. It’s the same reason why I drew for my mother. Just like why mothers knit clothes for their children, or why wives bake sweet things for their husbands. We all want to see the people we care about be happy.”

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