#objects: feyre's crowns

[violetasteracademic]

Azriel x Elain Bonus Chapter vs. Nesta x Cassian Bonus Chapter

Hello friends! What a lovely day for another text based side by side comparison. Today we are focusing on the parallels between Nesta and Cassian in their bonus chapter and Azriel and Elain in Az's bonus chapter.

The Nesta and Cassian bonus chapter has been published by Bloomsbury and easily found with a quick google search! It is called Wings and Embers.

This is in response to a comment I received on my TikTok video where I shared the same slides as my previous post comparing Mor and Az to Elain and Az, which is that Azriel only lusts after Elain. I could write a dissertation on the depth and slow development of their friendship and deep connection (Azriel staying up until three am listening to her plans for the garden, Azriel body checking Feyre out of the way so he could be the first to wish Elain a Happy Solstice, Azriel helping her with those cute potatoes and setting the table for dinner, his shadows preparing to strike when Elain's character is insulted and called boring [lol it's almost as if Sarah hears the negative things readers say about a character she loves] and so on.) but the easiest way to tackle the *lust* issue is to take a peek at the bonus chapters side by side.

Wings and Embers:

That is a h*rny man. Violently h*rny.

Nesta, in response to her own h*rniness, literally thinks Cassian has used faerie magic on her to make her feel things. Teehee. Cassian is also worried over how insane he is acting, how making a move on Nesta could disrupt the delicate balance of the inner circle.

There are reasons to not move forward with this mutual pull they feel to literally rip each other's clothes off in that exact moment, and it ends without them giving in to the desire to kiss.

Now let's compare to Azriel and Elain:

Breath catching, hands shaking, secret gifts exchanged in the dead of night.

They are going farther than they have ever gone after more than a year of brushing fingers and exchanging looks.

He is having some steamy thoughts, and her arousal drifts up to him. It is 100% mutual!

Both bat boys are described in their respective bonus chapters as thinking it was wrong or stupid to be making a move on one of the Archeron sisters, and not caring:

And both are described as being willing to beg on their knees:

I think what we are seeing here is an indication of the theme and tone for the upcoming romance. Cassian and Nesta are fiery fighters, with a million reasons why they should avoid their feelings. Azriel and Elain are full of quiet dreaming and angst and pining, with a million obstacles in their way.

But every character, in their own way, is struggling to control their desire.

Ultimately, bonus chapters are just that: bonuses. You don't have to read Cassian and Nesta's bonus to get an understanding of the relationship between them and the tone of their romance, nor is a bonus needed to understand the dynamic between Azriel and Elain.

I love Gwyn and am not discounting her presence in the bonus, of course I think most of us on the Elriel side simply perceive it is an additional show of her hidden powers. I am NOT team evil Gwyn, but we have already seen Koschei use Eris to lure Cassian and Azriel near to the crown to gain control over them. If Gwyn does have hidden lightsinger powers and she were to be put under the control of the Crown, she is a perfect character for Koschei to get his hands on as well to be used for luring purposes. This is reflected outside of the bonus chapters as well, with Nesta's powers having a reaction to Gwyn. It is not only seen in the BC, it's an *extra* moment. Gwyn is going to play a role in something, I have no doubt!

Gwyn also was in proximity to a piece of the cauldron for many years of her life, and only characters who are made or bearing made objects (Nesta and Azriel) are having these reactions to her. I think that will prove relevant.

I hope you all enjoy, and happy waiting patiently (or impatiently) for the book announcement!

#elriel #pro elain #pro elain archeron #elain x azriel #elriel endgame #elriel supremacy

[nikethestatue]

Elain and the Harp

So I wonder if Elain and the Harp are connected? What if they are made of the same 'THING' that is inside the Cauldron? The harp was dipped into it and now it controls time. Elain was thrown into it and now, in some manner, she also controls time.

What's a vision? The ability to influence time and actions.

Elain PREDICTED that Cassian was going to die during the war. Word for word and it happened just like she saw. But what did she do? She stepped in and changed the flow of time and the outcome.Just like the Harp, she reversed the inevitable.

Cassian offered her his dagger, for protection. She refused to take it. Yes, in the next minute, she took Truth Teller. Did she know that she needed to take TT specifically? Did she sense/Saw that TT was Made, just like she was, and like Nesta?

We know from Lanthys that he was able to hear the Harp, even though he didn't know that it was in Prison, with him. But he heard the note that it kept 'singing'.

So I wonder whether Elain heard the 'song' of Truth Teller as well? Did like call to like? Is there a silent song that she can hear and did she know that she needed to take that specific dagger to change history? To save Nesta's and Cassian's lives?

And is Azriel's shadowSINGING somehow connected to the silent songs that Elain can hear?

Nesta is the embodiment of the Mask. It's the thing that she controls the best, it raises armies, it's a weapon. Nesta is a weapon. She also forges weapons.

But the Harp--what it aligns to Elain and her magic, her GIFT? The gift that allows her to change the trajectory of time and influence events? Just like the Harp did when it turned back time and 'saved' Feyre. We know that Elain was praying to the Mother at that moment--could that prayer have influenced the way the Harp was used? Nesta was bargaining with the Cauldron and promising to return everything that she stole. Elain, who is more associated with the Mother, was praying to the Mother, and then next moment, Nesta felt the Mother's presence. What if Elain KNEW that she needed to bring the Mother into this? That the Cauldron wasn't enough. That the Harp had to be influenced by something even bigger than the Cauldron? By its creator--the Mother?

I suspect that each Trove object will be aligned to a sister--the Mask to Nesta, the Harp to Elain, and the Crown to Feyre, while the last remaining object--the Horn-- is already inside the other starborn female descendant of Theia, Bryce.

#elriel #elain archeron #acotar #elain theory

[animezinglife]

Secrets in the Night

If there's anything Elain has learned during her time in Prythian, it's that some secrets are best kept hiding in plain sight.

Genre: Romance/Fluff/What-If? Post-canon Elucien ficlet with a small dash of Regencycore. More Elucien fics can be found through my masterlist or on AO3. As always, I want to give a shout-out to @lucienarcheron, @zenkindoflove, and everyone else who's been so supportive of these small, humble fics. You've all helped make writing fun for me again, and I sincerely appreciate it!

Everything about this crowd is alive. From the colorful dresses of the females to the glittering lights hovering above and illuminating the rooms, everything about this Solstice celebration that doubles as Feyre's birthday gathering is stunning. There’s a vibrant hum from the crowd as Elain smiles and weaves through them, trying to keep the way her eyes wander subtle. 

She feels him near before she sees him. 

Hears his heartbeat through these walls, echoing through her body as if it were her own.

She doesn’t need to follow the sound. Not for long.

She’s shrouded in his scent–that familiar blend of embers, earth, and cinnamon–before he even speaks.

“Good evening, Lady.” His voice is a low timbre that echoes through her, and she feels a hint of heat prickling at her cheeks and core. She turns, her skirts swishing in the process as she takes in his form. Mother, he is devastating: part of his molten hair is pulled back at the crown, with the rest flowing over the collar of his finely-tailored jacket in a cascade of red silk. It’s a sharp, fiery contrast to the dark green of the jacket, and the subtle golden thread woven at the collar and cuffs seems to only enhance the gold and russet of his eyes. 

“Lucien.” There’s a knowing gleam in those eyes as he offers her a slight, courtly bow. She gives an equal curtsy in response, entranced by the way the corners of his mouth twitch upward and curve into a smile.

The bond hums between them, pulsing so loudly in her mind she thinks surely others must hear it. Yet all around them the Night Court’s guests carry on with their evening, laughing and drinking and chattering without notice.

Of course, Elain knows both she and her mate know better: know it’s rare that Feyre and Rhys aren’t aware of everything happening within their own walls. They know that Nesta is always watching like a hawk, and that Azriel has eyes–and spies–everywhere. Nothing hides in the shadows here.

She’s been cautious where Lucien is concerned–there are no secrets there, not truly. They’ve simply mixed some truths while not divulging others, and as far as either of her sisters know–as far as Elain can tell–they’ve grown to accept that she’s no longer willing to let the circumstances of their mating bond control her. She's told them as much. That if her mate must be present to discuss courtly matters or join them for a holiday, she’ll have no real objections to it. 

Though that, of course, is only a small fraction of the story.

As the two of them have gotten to know each other, she’s begun to understand why Feyre had been so skeptical initially, and why her own instincts had both pulled her to him with all their strength and why she’d fought against them equally hard.

Lucien Vanserra is a good male. 

He offers her a hand–a bit formally, she notes–and she takes it carefully, letting him pull her into his strong frame. A memory floods through her all at once then: of him doing the same during their recent visit to the Court of Nightmares; of how those awful carvings on the walls and suffocating darkness of the ballroom seemed to disappear when there was only the music and him before her. She had clutched his hand tightly; relished at the warm, strong hand at her back as he’d led her through one waltz then another; some flashier, more aggressive style she’d known she would’ve been lost on without his lead. 

She inhales deeply as they begin to sway in something similar to a waltz, remembering how his warmth and familiar scent had grounded her during that visit; kept her tethered to the music and their dance despite the unease she’d felt every single time she’d stepped inside that dreadful place.

How he'd made her feel safe.

He’s entirely too easy to be drawn to, she thinks. That still unfamiliar voice, partly from the bond and partly of her own admission, murmurs an addition in the back of her mind.

Entirely too easy to love.

“Are you enjoying your evening?” he asks her, and carefully meets his gaze. 

“I am,” she admits, a part of her surprised by the honesty of that statement. “You look nice.” 

His lips twitch again at that, and her heart flutters as his eyes briefly skim over her. “You look nice yourself, Lady,” he teases, and despite herself, she smiles back. 

Elain is suddenly aware of at least one set of eyes watching over them, and as if recognizing the same, Lucien shifts and guides her so that she knows her back is to their onlooker. Her voice drops low–so low that she wonders if he can even hear her over the music. “Who is it this time?” she whispers.

“Both your sister and the Shadowsinger,” he replies equally softly, and her blush deepens slightly at how carefully he sets his mouth when he speaks, as if barring both from reading his lips. “No doubt trying to make sure I don’t steal you away or ravish you right here in the middle of the party.”

“We certainly can’t have that,” she replies, giving his hand a light, knowing squeeze. Heat pools in the pit of her stomach as she surprises even herself as she continues, “Besides, I have very particular tastes.” 

"So I've learned."

His thumb traces down the side of her hand slightly, and his eyes gleam as she’s certain the same memory flickers through him. He sends a caress down the bond and, though she doesn’t return it fully, gives him a playful tug through it. Mother, she thinks as heat floods through her and the gleam in his eyes turn nothing short of flame. He might as well take her in the middle of the party for all that look implies, and she realizes–senses–that she no longer feels Nesta’s or Azriel’s focus on her either. The feeling of his fingertips tracing down her spine confirms it, and she relishes the heat she feels from them even through the layers she wears.

It’s a risk, she thinks, the way he’s looking at her now. A look she knows she’s returning whether intentionally or not.

Part of her wants to snake her arms around him: relish in his touch, scent, and taste. That she were ready to act as freely with him under her sister’s roof as she does outside it and among the other courts even when she and Lucien aren't alone. Her thoughts drift to the rolling meadows of Spring; the private, heated moments they’d stolen together in Day.

By the look in his eyes and feeling of his heart pounding so near her own, he’s thinking of them too.

Elain knows whatever act they’ve been putting on won’t last long at this rate, and when the song draws to a close, she takes a step back, and they end in a polite curtsy and bow. She separates from him completely, not bothering to conceal her blush as she turns her attention pointedly to a floral arrangement in a nearby vase. When his eyes follow hers she turns, and as the distance between them grows, she sends another tug down the bond. 

One that asks him to follow.

She weaves through the crowds again, knowing none will question it. There was a time when she would have wanted to hide from the bond; what it made her feel around Lucien. There had been times when she had begun warming up to him when it still overwhelmed her, and she needed to spend time in her gardens to think.

This, she knows, will appear to be no exception.

She’s already wandered through the garden’s neat rows once when he manages to discreetly slip away and join her. She listens carefully: hears nothing beyond the trickling of the water fountain and the sounds of the party inside the estate. Hears nothing but his heartbeat and the way it syncs with her own. 

Confident they’re alone, she closes the remaining distance between them and kisses him, letting out a small, relieved hum as his hand gently rests beneath her chin. Hers find his chest, feeling the elegant fabric of his jacket before sliding over his shoulders. He pulls her closer with his free hand, his other finding the curve of her neck and tracing her jawline with his thumb.

She savors this secret kiss: gentle and lingering no matter how much it makes her want more. Crave more. 

Though it’s neither the time nor the place, and when they finally separate, she lets out a soft, shaky breath. 

It’s like a dream, she thinks as she forces her eyes to slowly flutter open. She takes him in in the moonlight: the red hair, striking beauty, and warm, clever eyes. Breathes in the cool night air and the gardens and him. 

He extends an arm to her, and she loops hers through his. As they begin to walk through the garden together, she finds herself relaxing more with each and every step. While warmth floods through her at his nearness and everywhere they still touch, so does a sense of peace, and she smiles to herself.

She knows their secret will come out eventually, and she’ll be ready when it does. There’s still one left that even Lucien doesn’t know, and it’s one she plans to share with him soon.

One that she’s already spent countless days and nights alike thinking about. One that’s led to her jotting notes down in her favorite recipe books, and one that she’s come to accept at her own pace.

For now, all she needs is this.

#elucien #elucien fics #elucien ficlet #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #secrets in the night #wyseinkworks #elucien fanfiction #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #acotar ficlets #just had this in my head and wanted to try something different

[lucienarcheron]

A Fox & A Flower Crown [ Elucien ]

Prompt: Based on this post and this post.  Elain has a vision and it, uh, has her feeling all types of ways. | Genre: Fluff Rating: NSFW-ish

Author’s Note: I could write Elucien getting used to each other 2729864937 different ways. I love my babies <3. The glow I refer to here is in fact, the mating bond. Lucien being Helion’s son hasn’t been discussed here. 

“Elain? Are – are you alright?”

Elain blinked as Lucien’s panicked voice brought her back to reality. She gasped, as she slowly came out of the daze she’d been in. A vision. She’d just had a vision.

And oh, what a vision.

Lucien reached out to place his hand gently on her shoulder, to steady her, but she shuddered back, a flush blooming on her face and down her neck.

“Lucien!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately drawing his hand back and Elain just stared at him.

Her face seemed to get more flushed by the second.

“Elain?” he tried again, sending a small nudge via the bond towards her and she flinched back.

“I – I have to go.” she whispered and skirted off before he could object, leaving him standing behind her, confused and slightly hurt. She made it out to her garden and brought her hands up to cup her face then shook her head, trying to get the scene out of her mind but it was like her brain froze, her vision the only thing she could see.

“What did he do?”

Elain’s head shot up and she turned to find Nesta, calmly sitting on the bench by the garden, a book in her hand.

“Nothing.” she answered too quickly and Nesta’s eyes narrowed. She shut her book with a loud thump and stood, stalking over to Elain as Feyre emerged from the house, heading their way.

“I will kill him. What did he do?”

“Is this about Lucien? What did you do, Elain? He looks so hurt.” Feyre asked then turned to Nesta. “Stop threatening him. He’s my best friend.”

“He’s a pest.” Nesta replied then turned back to Elain. “So what happened?”

Elain’s face flushed again, deeply, and her eyes flickered between her two sisters.

“I – I had a vision.” she said quietly.

“Hopefully it was of you stabbing him. You’ve only just started being friends with him. If he bleeds out, you could avoid the whole thing.” Nesta immediately interjected as Feyre glared at her with a shove.

“Will you stop it! Lucien is a great guy. He would be so good for Elain!”

“You’re biased because he’s your friend. He just wants to violate Elain.”

“Stop it.” Elain mumbled, a hand rubbing her forehead.

“He would do no such thing! You literally have no reason to hate him this much!”

“I do! He stares at Elain like he wants to rip her clothes off all the time! It’s disgusting!”

“Please stop it.” Elain mumbled again, now rubbing her temples.

“He does not! And you’re one to talk! I can practically see what you and Cassian want to do to each other.”

“Oh, that’s rich. Everyone literally knows when you and Rhys are fucking since you’re always fucking in inappropriate places!”

“At least we actually fuck. You two just lust after each other from 50 miles away.”

“We’re taking it slow.” Nesta hissed, cheeks flushed.

“Will you two shut up?” Elain lashed out and her two sisters froze, blinking at her.

“Sorry.” Feyre said sheepishly.

“Right. Sorry.” Nesta said with pursed lips.

“But what is it, Elain? Lucien said you had a vision and then sort of…ran away from him.” Feyre said, giving her sister a look of concern.

“I did have a vision.” she whispered, her eyes darting towards the door that led inside the house and she blushed furiously again. “About me and Lucien.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Was he hurting you? Because I’ll kill him first.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “He would never harm Elain, so will you stop it!”

“Still going to kill him. Even if he just looks at her funny.”

“LucienandIwerehavingsex.” Elain blurted quickly, barely a whisper and her sisters blinked.

“What?” they said in unison.

Elain groaned, the red on her cheeks brighter than her mate’s hair. “I said,” she began and took a breath. “Lucien and I – we – we were having sex.”

Her sisters blinked again.

Then Nesta’s expression turned into disgust and Feyre burst out laughing.

“That’s why you’re freaking out?” Feyre asked incredulously. “Elain, I’m sure you and Graysen did some –”

“Not the same!” Elain immediately said, lightly curling a strand of her hair around her finger and swallowing. “This...was nothing like with Graysen.”

“Was he doing something you didn’t like?” Nesta asked quietly, her nose still scrunched in disdain.

“No…no…it looked nice.” she said quietly. Her eyes darted to Feyre for a second then back to the ground. “There was a glow. We – we were glowing.”

Feyre beamed. “That means you’re going to accept the mating bond!”

“Ugh.” came Nesta’s response and Feyre shot her a glare before swatting her shoulder. Nesta shot her little sister a dirty look before turning back to Elain. “And how do you feel about that? Do you want to accept the mating bond?”

Elain bit her lip. They had just started getting to know each other. He was very nice…and sweet…and careful with her. She was getting used to him as a friend first. There had been light touches here and there, comfortable hugs, a small kiss on the cheek every now and then but nothing more. But now, all she could think about was how their bodies had been intertwined together and the sounds that were coming out of her mouth as he…well, pounded in her.

The scene had been blurry at first. She had blinked and flower petals were all over the place. She had blinked again and then the noises had come. Moans. Panting. Names being desperately called. Then, the vision cleared up completely.

They had been in some kind of bedroom – his – and his body had been pressed against her as he thrust into her. Elain was making noises she had never thought she’d make. 

But then it had changed and she was the one on top of him, gloriously naked except for a flower crown.

A flower crown.

Elain had felt his body as though it was actually happening at that moment. She heard him whisper dirty things to her and she had heard herself begging him not to stop. He had certainly obliged and she had been more than enthusiastic.

Her eyes fluttered shut as the scene played over and over in her mind and against her own will, her whole body heated.

She replayed how Lucien had smirked at the obscene sounds he was pulling out of her as her hips rolled wildly against him, her palms firmly planted on his chest.

She replayed how his hands had tightly been gripping her waist as he thrust up in her.

She replayed how alongside his thrusts, his free hand came to tease the bundle of nerves between her legs, adding to her pleasure. Then he had flipped them over.

She had felt him, hard and deep. Saw the flower petals scatter about.

Elain saw and felt how her own hands had roamed his body, sliding up and down his back, arms, and chest, he leaned down to kiss her.

The two had yet to kiss in reality but as she gently touched her lips now, she already knew what his kisses would be like.

Elain flushed deeply.

“You’re thinking of the vision, aren’t you? Your scent changed.” Feyre said with a grin. “He’s my best friend and you’re my sister and I really don’t want to think about the two of you being intimate but Elain…Lucien seems to know what he’s doing.”

“I have a very clear image of how well he knows what he’s doing, thank you.” Elain quipped and Feyre giggled as Nesta gagged.

“I’m going to throw myself off a balcony.” Nesta huffed and gave Elain another look. “Don’t make the vision pressure you. Do what you feel is comfortable. No more. Or I will be the reason he bleeds out.”

With that, she stalked back to her spot on the bench, curled her legs under her, and opened her book back to where she had left off.

Feyre rolled her eyes and turned back to Elain.

“Is that why you ran away from him? Thought he’d get right to it?” Feyre asked with a laugh and Elain flushed again.

“Feyre.” she begged. “Don’t – don’t tell him. This is so embarrassing! He’s going to think I’m some harlot!”

Feyre snorted. “Elain, if anyone’s a harlot, it’s Lucien.” she said and Elain’s eyebrows furrowed. “He’s old as hell and has been around town a few times. He’s just a gentleman with you. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“How exactly, is that supposed to make me feel better?” Elain snapped and Feyre grinned.

“Again, he knows what he’s doing.”

“Again, I know he knows what he’s doing!”

Feyre started laughing again and Elain nearly burst into tears.

“That’s all I’m going to think of every time I look at him now!”

“Oh, he’ll love that.

“Feyre, please.” Elain begged and Feyre sighed, holding back another laugh.

“He thinks he did something wrong. Just talk to him.”

“And tell him what? That I had a vision of us in a very compromising position so that’s why I’m going to avoid him for the next month?” Elain said with a scoff, tugging on the loose strand of hair in her finger again. “He’ll just start laughing at me.”

“He most definitely will. This is pretty hilarious.”

Elain groaned and Feyre rolled her eyes with a smile, nudging Elain towards the house.

“I don’t want him to laugh at me.” Elain mumbled.

“Elain, he’s your friend before he’s anything else. Just remember that and talk to him.”

Elain gave Feyre one last look and sighed as her sister shooed her off and Elain hesitantly, reluctantly, made her way back to the sitting room of the townhouse.

She found Lucien standing by the window overlooking the city with his back to her, his hands in his pockets. Elain stood, one hand balled into a fist on her side, the other back to twirling the strand of hair again.

“Lucien?” she said softly.

“Yes, Elain?” he responded with his back still to her and she bit her lip, embarrassment flooding through her again.

“I – I’m sorry for rushing out. You didn’t do anything wrong.” she continued in a small voice, tugging gently on that strand of hair. Why wasn’t he looking at her? Was he upset? Maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t looking at her to see how red she was. Then she would have to explain why.

Lucien looked over his shoulder and Elain saw his lips form into a small smile before he turned back to face the window. Her brows furrowed.

“That’s alright, Elain. I’m sure you just needed a minute to collect yourself.” he said and Elain blinked at his even tone. Slowly, she approached him and came to stand next to him.

She didn’t know if it was because of the vision, and it probably was, but something was different about standing next to him now. There was an urge to touch him that she usually didn’t have. A very needy urge.

Elain bit her lip, her eyes flickering to him nervously as she slid to the side, away from him slightly, and to her surprise, she heard him chuckle lightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, turning to glance at her and as he did, she was confused to see him looking at her with amusement.

“About what?”

“The vision.” he said, taking a small step toward her.

“I don’t know.” she answered, taking a step back, and blinking at him with wide eyes.

“You don’t know if you want to talk about it?” he asked with a raised brow.

“I’m embarrassed to talk about it.” she confessed quietly and as he took another step towards her, Elain backed up another step. He openly chuckled.

“Why do you keep backing away, Elain?” he asked with a sly smile. “Nothing’s going to happen. Your vision had us in a bed.”

“It’s not because of —” Elain stuttered to a stop and it was like he had poured a bucket of cold water on her. She flushed deeply and started stuttering, trying to find the right words to ask or explain. “How did you — I didn’t — but –”

Lucien laughed lightly, causing her to flush even harder, her eyes on the floor. “Elain…sharing a bond means there’s a connection between us. You were practically screaming at me about what happened in the vision while you were outside.”

Her hands immediately came up to cover her face and she let out a small groan of embarrassment.

“I didn’t know I was doing that!” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to!”

Lucien watched his mate with a broad grin, basking in her adorableness and he pulled her in his arms, hugging her to his chest. Elain squealed but refused to remove her hands, hiding her face deeper into his chest and she felt him rumble with laughter.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, dove. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” she argued and as he pressed her closer to him and felt his arms settle on her waist, her mind flashed back to the vision again and where his hands had been there.

“You didn’t like what you saw? It seemed like we were having a nice time.” he teased lightly. “I most certainly am never going to look at flower crowns the same way.”

“Don’t! Don’t tease me about it!” she whined softly and pulled away from him. She met his eyes for a second then looked down again and Lucien really resisted the urge to burst out laughing. “I – I don’t — it was a very compromising position and I —”

Elain met his gaze and she glared at him, at his delighted reaction to her embarrassment, and pointed accusingly at him. “Feyre told me you’re a harlot!”

“Did she now?” he asked and it took all the willpower he had not to double over in laughter. “Well one of us has to be, Elain. How else will we get to those compromising positions in your vision?”

“Stop teasing me!”

“But dove, it’s so fun.”

“It’s not for me!”

Lucien immediately stopped laughing when her eyes filled with tears and he quickly pulled her back in his arms. “I’m sorry, Elain.” he said softly as she sniffled, kissing the top of her head. “I’m just trying to make you feel less embarrassed about it. I really don’t mind it. I’m more thrilled at the idea that you’re thinking about accepting the bond more than anything else.”

“I have little experience. It’s embarrassing for me to see myself with you like that because I haven't thought that far ahead yet,” she mumbled into his chest. “I like that we’re friends first.”

“Oh, Elain.” he said and chuckled lightly, pulling back to cup her face. He ran his thumbs down her cheeks and gave her a soft smile. “I don’t care about how experienced you are. It doesn’t matter at all to me. We’ll go at your pace when the time comes. We’re going to go at your pace through every part of this so don’t feel pressured. I would never want you to feel that way…I like that we’re friends first too.”

She sniffled and looked at him. “Yeah?”

“Of course.” he replied and leaned in to lightly peck her cheek. “I won’t deny that it makes me more excited for the future now but again, we will always go at your comfort level.”

Elain met his gaze and when Lucien gave her another small smile, she felt her heart settle. She felt foolish for overreacting now but at the same time, she couldn’t help it. This was all new. Everything about this world and the people in it and this – this bond, was so new.

The bond.

The bond that apparently needed to be monitored or else all thoughts go flying through.

“So…so you saw the whole thing then?” she asked quietly and his lips twitched.

“Yes.”

“Everything?”

“I’m a tad jealous of vision me getting to kiss you before real me does.”

“That’s what you took from this?” she asked him flatly and he smirked.

“Well, I’m jealous of a few other things that happened but friends don’t really talk about doing those things with friends.” he said with a shrug and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“How considerate of you.”

They were innocent. They were cute. There was no need for her to be thinking about them doing such things yet. They were still just friends. Friends do not think about doing those kinds of things with friends.

A thought struck her then.

Elain wore flower crowns all the time. When was it going to happen now? How would she know? Would she control herself? How hysterical do mates get when they — when they mate? Feyre and Rhys have calmed down now and yet….

Her eyes widened. She was never going to wear one in front of Lucien for the next year.

“Well that wouldn’t be fair, Elain. I really do like the flower crowns.” His tone teased lightly. Her wide eyes found his smirk and she glared.

“Stop reading my thoughts!”

“You’re shouting down the bond again, it’s not my fault you’re so loud.” He said with a smirk. She knew what he meant and pointed at him with such viciousness.

“Be quiet, you! You’ve ruined one of my favorite things.”

Lucien was struggling to keep a straight face. “How is it my fault? You were the one wearing it. Very beautifully, might I add.” he said and her glare intensified. “I especially liked the way the petals seemed to be scattered around us. Very aesthetically pleasing.”

And just like that, the vision flashed in her mind all over again. The panting. And the whining. And the way she had called out his name. Her face turned red again as she recalled the facial expression of pleasure on her face as her body covered his.

Who had initiated it? Why had the flower crown been the only thing she had left on? Or had he wanted her to keep it on? 

Elain was fine with sex. Totally fine. But now, this was the only thing she would be thinking about when she looked at him.

“So scandalous.” He whispered playfully. “How dare flowers be associated with such indecent actions. Whatever will you do, Elain?”

Despite her red face, Elain narrowed her eyes at his ever-present grin.

“You — you be quiet, I said! This is your fault!” She replied, her flush deepening and Lucien laughed.

“Don’t worry, dove. Before you know it, I’ll bring out the harlot in you too.” He said in a quiet voice, too quiet, and winked. “Deep down, we’re all just a bunch of harlots. You’ll be fine.”

She gave an embarrassed squeal, covering her face with both hands again, stepping away from him and his laughter rang through the room.

It took a good few minutes for Lucien to stop laughing and Elain just glared at him through her fingers until he did. He gave her a look then, a knowing smirk, and she was already worried about what he was going to say next.

“Now I know that we’re friends and all and as a friend, I’m wondering about this one thing.” he said, giving her his best innocent smile.

“Yes?” she asked him warily.

“I really want to kiss you now. Can I?”

“I don’t know, Lucien. Can you?” she asked, just for laughing at her earlier.

Lucien grinned. “Oh dove, I think we’re both aware that I most certainly can.” he drawled. “Let me rephrase that since you want to be funny, Elain.  As a friend, I’m asking, may I?”

“I thought friends don’t talk about doing things like that with friends?” she quoted and his grin widened.

“This friend does.”

“Hm.” she mused. Though she did want to kiss him, he didn’t need to know that just yet.  “I’ll think about it…friend.”

“Sounds good, friend.”

The two glanced at each other and Elain looked down, chuckling while he smiled at her. Silly, it always ended up being silly with him.

“You’re a very annoying friend.” she said, pursing her lips and he laughed again.

“Isn’t that a necessary quality in a best friend?” he teased, nudging her gently.

“Who said you were my best friend?” Elain replied, nudging him back and he feigned offense.

“I claim the title and demand an upgrade.”

“Nesta won’t like that.”

“Nesta doesn’t like anything about me. I doubt she’ll shift views now.” he scoffed and Elain shook her head with a light laugh then sighed.

“Well. At least I don’t feel as mortified as I felt before.” she said, even as a soft blush bloomed on her cheeks again. Lucien gave her a comforting smile.

“You should never feel embarrassed to share things with me. I guarantee you, I’ve done worse than whatever you’re embarrassed about.” he assured her and Elain laughed.

“Like what?”

“I’m a harlot, remember? I don’t kiss and tell.” he said with another wink.

Elain gave him an amused but exasperated look and Lucien only laughed. She turned from him, smiling to herself as she retreated towards the stairwell then turned back to look at him.

He may be a harlot but the Cauldron had deemed him her harlot. Her vision had given her one idea, but Elain planned to see what more her mate had to offer.

“Are you busy?” she asked shyly. “I was thinking to go exploring around the city. Maybe go by the Sidra River…would you like to come with me?”

Lucien’s face lit up and she felt it, felt him through their shared bond, the joy on his face matched the joy he shot down the bond.

“I would love to.” he said and Elain smiled.

“Okay…I’ll just grab my hat and then we’ll go!” she said excitedly, turning from him.

“Sure you don’t want to grab a flower crown instead, friend?” he asked and Elain promptly turned to glare at him.

“Forget it! I’ll go alone, you’re a terrible friend anyway!” she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest and he started laughing again.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop.” he said but a cheeky smile was still on his face. “But can I get a hat too? Especially if it’s one of those big, floppy ones you always wear when you garden. I wouldn’t want my hair to get ruined while we’re out.”

Elain rolled her eyes and was about to respond but paused instead. She looked at him once more. This male and his ridiculousness. His obnoxiousness. She liked him more than she’d like to admit.

Before her courage could falter, Elain quickly crossed the room, cupping his face, and pulled him down to lock her lips with his.

It was a quick kiss, too fast for Lucien but nonetheless, it left him staggering as Elain pulled away and he blinked at her stupidly.

“From one friend to another.” she said with a small giggle and Lucien slowly smiled.

“You know…I really like being friends with you, Elain.”

“I like being friends with you, too.” she said, retreating slightly, but he pulled her close again, then leaned down and placed another soft kiss on her lips. Nothing more than a caress. Elain hummed happily as they pulled away and Lucien stared at her, his heart beating wildly as he curled that loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Do I still get a hat?” he asked quietly because he wasn’t sure what else to say. He was far too old to just say ‘wow’.  Elain chuckled.

“If you behave.”

“How about a flower crown?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Please?” he asked, then pouted for good measure. He looked so ridiculous she had to giggle.

“I’ll tell you what, when we get back, I’ll make us matching flower crowns. Friendship flower crowns.” she emphasized with a look.

Lucien grinned, a grin too cheeky for her liking. “Friendship flower crowns, huh?”

“Because we’re such good friends.”

“Based on that vision, we’re going to be great friends. Friends with some benefits, hm?” he said with a smirk and she flushed, then shoved him. 

“Keep saying the wrong things and you will end up being hatless, crownless, and friendless.” she tutted then stuck her tongue out.

Lucien watched her dart out of the room and was left standing, grinning like an idiot. He decided then, that being friends with Elain Archeron was going to be one of the greatest things that would happen to him.

#elucien #elucien fanfics #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #gfics #fic: a fox & a flower crown #the archeron sisters are always best buds in all my fics lol #won't have it any other way

[acourtofthought]

It's All Canon Baby

Sure this happened:

Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

But so did this:

But Elain had given it back—had pressed it into Azriel’s hands after the battle, just as he had pressed it into hers before. And then walked away without looking back.

And this:

Azriel leaned against the wall by the lone door, Truth-Teller bloody in his hand.

But Feyre, Cassian knew, had been aware of what she’d see before entering. And well aware that these ten minutes had only been the opening movements in a symphony of pain that Azriel could conduct with brutal efficiency.

And this:

And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her.

Sure this happened:

Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

But so did this:

Cassian bared his teeth. “What the hell can we do against that?” “I’m going in,” Azriel said. “No,” Rhys snapped. But Azriel was spreading his wings, the sunlight so stark on the new, slashing scars down the membrane. “Chain me to a tree, Rhys,” Azriel said softly. “Go ahead.” He began checking the buckles on his weapons. “I’ll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back.”

And this:

“I want to confirm that Briallyn has the Crown,” Azriel said. “I’ll travel to the human lands tomorrow.” “No,” Feyre and Rhys said at the same time, in the same breath. Azriel’s eyes shuttered. “I wasn’t asking for permission.” Rhys smirked. “Doesn’t matter.” Az opened his mouth to object, but Feyre said, “You’re not going, Azriel. If Briallyn has the Crown and catches you, even if she just suspects you’re nearby, who knows what she could do to you?” “Give me some credit, Feyre,” Az said. “I can keep hidden well enough.” “We take no risks,” Feyre said, voice flat with command. “Pull all your spies out.” “Like hell I will.”

Sure this happened:

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?”

But so did this:

“No.” I blinked. “But he is a good male.” Despite our harsh words. Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit. “He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.” “You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.”

And this:

“Stay out of it. She’s not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings.” I lifted a brow. “Snoop.” Mor leaned back against the steps, utterly unrepentant. “Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her.”

Sure this happened:

she breathed, “Beautiful.”

But so did this:

I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath

Sure this happened:

Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks

But so did this:

“Thank you,” Nesta said, quickly pulling away to marvel at the device. “It’s brilliant.” Azriel blushed and stepped back, shadows swirling.

And this:

Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel

Sure this happened:

And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.”

But so did this:

I think she and Amren would be fast friends.

Which led to this:

Only Amren ignored her, and Nesta ignored Amren. The tension between them was a living band of lightning. But no one said anything, and they seemed content to pretend the other didn’t exist.

And though they eventually made up to some degree, Nesta's truest friendships ended up being with Emerie and Gwyn.

Sure this happened:

Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed.

But so did this:

He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

Sure this happened:

“Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.

But so did this:

"I didn't dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all".

Sure this happened:

“We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

But so did this:

“It would seem so,” Rhys mused, then said to Lucien, “The flame in her eyes was not of your usual sort, I take it.” Lucien shook his head. “No. It spoke to nothing in my own arsenal. That was … Ice so cold it burned. Ice and yet … fluid like flame. Or flame made of ice.”. I held Rhys’s gaze, as if it were again the tether that had kept me in this world. “I think the power is death—death made flesh. Or whatever power the Cauldron holds over such things. That’s why the Carver heard it—heard about her.”

Sure this happened:

He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.

But so did this:

“I’ve spent weeks in that blasted court,” Mor said.

And this:

The High Lord of Day considered Cassian and Azriel, then frowned. “Where’s my beautiful Mor?” Az said tightly, “Away.”

And this:

Nesta said to Feyre, “Did you tell Elain?” Before Feyre could reply, Azriel said, “What about Mor?”

And this:

"What of Mor, Az?" Azriel ignored the question.

Sure this happened:

She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

But so did this:

I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, “You could come to Velaris.”

Sure this happened:

Lucien, surprisingly, was chuckling, his shoulders loose and his head angled while he listened.

But so did this:

Vassa rolled her eyes, then looked to Lucien, who sank onto the sofa beside Jurian. Like the Fae male had settled similar arguments between them before. But Lucien’s attention was upon Cassian.

And this:

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. (Lucien looking at Elain).

Sure this happened:

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here.

But so did this:

Their gazes locked and held. But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward. Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness. And when Lucien turned to signal to Rhys to go … He did not glance back at Elain. Did not see the half step she took toward the stairs—as if she’d speak to him. Stop him.

Sure this happened:

"She hadn't bought her Mate a present.". "She'd gotten Azriel one last year"

But so did this:

Elain gave him a specially designed ceramic mug with a lid that he could travel with, bespelled against breaking, to keep tea warm for hours. (Cassian's gift)

And most likely this from the last Solstice:

"The others passed around their gifts"

(possible proof that Elain got Cassian something the year before too, just like Az. If anything, it cannot be proven that Elain only got Az a gift the year before).

Sure this happened:

"a headache powder he'd kept on his nightstand at the HOW. Not to use, just to look at."

But so did this:

I’m fairly certain Azriel has a drawer full of all the daggers I’ve bought him throughout the centuries that he’s too polite to throw away, but won’t ever use.”

Sure this happened:

"he wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend"

But so did this:

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

Sure this happened:

No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

But so did this:

"They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around".

Sure this happened:

“And you?” I made myself say. “Are you—all right?”. Elain looked over a shoulder at me as we entered the foyer, then turned left—to the dining room. In the sitting room across the way, all conversation halted at the smell of food. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face.

But so did this:

I’d seen those smiles before. On my own damn face.

Sure this happened:

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

But so did this'

Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to.

Canon isn't the argument some think it is, it doesn't prove Endgame anything.

Whatever a reader thinks is going on based on canon alone is purposely ignoring that SJM doesn't always come right out and tell us the direction she's heading, she leaves subtle hints. She has literally told us in interviews about all the "breadcrumbs" she sprinkles so what good is it doing to act like these big, bold, obvious moments have to be the only possible outcome while conveniently pretending like those other breadcrumbs don't matter?

"Elain and Az nearly kissed! They want each other!"

"Elain belongs in the NC, she said so herself!"

"Elain has friends and hobbies so she's got no more healing to do!"

"Az is over Mor! Cassian said so!"

"Az doesn't even consider Gwyn a friend a few months after officially meeting her, they could never end up together!"

"Elain won't look at Lucien so it must remain that way for all of eternity!"

The truth is, SJM has put enough in there to support Elucien, E/riel, or Gwynriel. I think based on her style, she's setting E/riel up to have only been an emotional / near physical rebound for all the wrong reasons (which came to an end in the POV Chapter), but I cannot deny she hinted at something between them in the other books. I'm also not going to deny that all those hints were followed by hints for other ships or proof that neither Az or Elain were over Mor and Graysen. But I'm still not here pretending there weren't things that led us to what happened on Solstice. I just think regardless, E/riel was always set up as being doomed to fail.

I'm not sure why E/riels refuse to admit that E/riel might not have the endgame setup they think they've had, and that there are canon moments that could hint at an Elucien / Gwynriel future too. That the characters and their feelings for one another can still change in the next books.

Do they think stubbornly refusing to admit any other outcome is a possibility will somehow guarantee their ship? I'm sure Team Jacobs and Team Gale's did the same thing yet they still ended up having to accept defeat.

At this point it all comes down to hoping those hints lead us to the outcome we want. Because canon currently supports the possibility of every single pairing and if SJM wants, canon up until now doesn't even have to matter because she has created a brand new ship in a single book despite the Canon that came before.

Make your posts, defend your ship, but seriously, stop sending threats, stop acting like other people are stupid or lack reading comprehension for believing in theirs. You just make yourself look like the idiot considering they can provide just as many canon moments and the fact that you don't realize or ignore that those canon moments exist means you are the one lacking in reading comprehension and are guilty of selective reading.

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #lucien and elain #elain and lucien #gwynriel #azriel acotar #gwyneth berdara #acotar ships

[reyleese]

*** ACOTAR 5 THEORIES ***

So.. We all know of the three ancient siblings: the twins, the Bone Carver, the Weaver of the Wood, and the oldest, Koschei. Each of the, were “contained”/trapped by an ancient fae female (can’t remember who, please let me know if you do). Bone Carver was locked in the prison, the weaver had her powers diminished and she was stuck in the woods in the Middle. Then Koschei was trapped in the lake, he is also the suspected “big bad” of this upcoming half of the ACOTAR series.

There’s a lot of balance of threes in this series. The three objects Made by the Cauldron; the Mask, Crown and Harp. Then there’s the three Archeon sisters, Nesta, Elain and Feyre. In a way, each of the girls can be matched with one of the ancient siblings, and maybe even the Made objects, as each of these girls are also Made.

Feyre could be Koschei, the strongest of the siblings, trapped by the fae as she was in the very beginning of the series. Feyre was trapped by her life in many ways, but in a way essential to her transition into who she is today, she was trapped in the house by Tamlin, trapped Under the Mountain by Amaranthe, etc. Feyre is the crown, for very obvious reasons, like her being High Lady, but also her being the head of her household. She may be the youngest, but Feyre has been the head of her household since she was 11 and she had to save her family from starvation.

Nesta could be the Weaver, the one who literally devours the people who get close to her, which was part of Nesta internal struggle. The one who had a great portion of her power taken from her— the Weaver from the ancient fae, and Nesta’s was given back to the Cauldron— and stuck somewhere she didn’t choose. She is the mask. She’s put up more of a front to hide her feelings than either of her siblings.

And Elaine, the Bone Carver, who is the Seer— like Elaine— who is not as noticed or out in the world as their siblings are. The one who seems hidden, quiet. But the one who always knows more than what other people think they know. She is the harp. The otherwise beautiful instrument, the most beautiful of the sisters. Even her personality is softer, more appealing to others than anyone else, and yet, she is capable of incredible things. People underestimate the instrument of the harp.

Now, both the twins are “dead” thanks to the war in which Rhys and Feyre made bargains for their assistance against the King of Hybern. They were taken out by the Cauldron (if my memory serves). HOWEVER, Koschei, the oldest, is said to be deathless, but considering he and his siblings were here before the invention of the Cauldron, it’s possible they are susceptible to this new power, as the twins were. I wonder if, with all the objects of death could be wielded by one of each of the sisters, could they in a way combine their power with the power from the cauldron to kill Koschei. Especially considering the idea that the Made objects of the Cauldron are objects of death basically.

Secondary, theory that can either be separate from the first or part of it, but it was said that the three ancient being came from another world a long time ago, potentially a world much like Bryce’s. What if Bryce inadvertently brings with her some vital piece of information or something that ends up being of use to the Court of Dreams when Koschei comes along.

#acotar #acomaf #acofas #acosf #acowar #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm #sjm universe #sjm multiverse #sjm fandom #sjm theory #sarah j maas #feyre archeron #feyre cursebreaker #rhysand #nesta archeron #elain archeron #bone carver #acotar 5 #crescent city #crescent city 2 #crescent city 3 #maas #maasverse #faerie

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Some of you have probably noticed that I havent made a liveblog post in a while. Well, thats because I usually read on the bus and during my classes and then I come home and summarize my thoughts on the 2-5 chapters I read after theyve marinated in my head for a little while, but unfortunately i appear to be incapacited at the moment so I cant do that. But because its been weeks and I dont wanna forget anything and I would very much like to finish this series soon, I'll try to read at home sometimes from now on. Since my brain is still a lil mush Im gonna do what I did for my last post, which is write down what Im thinking as Im reading instead of summarizing all my thoughts retroactively, except this time I have my german copy on hand so if I want to quote something it'll be a translation

Anyway, with all that said, welcome to my twisted mind, please enjoy my thoughts on A Court of Mist and Fury Chapters 40

Chapter 40

Ive been wanting to say this for a while now but i kept forgetting, but they translated 'winnowing' as 'den Wind spalten' ['splitting the wind'] and that is objectively so much cooler, shoutout to my gal Alexandra Ernst for that

Feyre being like "ugh, its so pathetic how these human guards think they could stand a chance against even one of us" hurts me so much you guys what have they done to my girl

Once again, its apparently perfectly fine if Rhysand doesnt tell Feyre anything "because she never asked" but if Tamlin doesnt tell her anything when she never asked hes the devil

Also once again, Feyre is perfectly not-triggered at Mor wearing a scarlet dress

Idk how to explain this, but Rhysand saying that Feyre is wearing a golden crown because "she looks so good with it, how could he not give her one" is somehow the perfect encapsulation of the hollowness of her High Lady title

Oh, of course three of the queens only showed up to watch the other two talk, itd be too hard to write dialogue if they actually participated in this important conversation

hello???? Feyre referring to humans as "your kind" ??? wth is going on

"every side bears some blame" hey rhysand ive got a question for ya. which side enslaved the other again

everytime the oldest queen does anything the prose feels the need to remind me of how old and wrinkly she is and its like, i get it, shes OLD

The oldest queen is spitting so hard rn, Im not even gonna question how they heard of the night court when Feyre, who lived closest to Prythian for many years, didnt know anything aout the individual courts prior to getting there herself, Im just gonna put her whole little monologue here: "Oh? [...] The High Lord of the Night Court asks that we join him so that we can save lives together? Fight for peace? And what about the lives that you have taken during your long, despicable existance? What about the High Lord who shrouds himself in darkness and destroys the mind of those who stand in his way? [...] We have heard of you on the continent, Rhysand. We have heard of what the Court of Night is capable of, what you do to your enemies. Peace? I wouldn't have thought that you - a man who enslaves the minds of others and kills them out of pure enjoyment - even know that word."

Anyway, she was spitting absolute bars and Feyre gets super mad about it and almost commits arson but manages to reign herself in and its like girlie, why are you so upset? one of the first things we find out about the night court in this book is that they apparently indiscriminately kill (or atleast torture) anyone who crosses the night court border without permission like theyre the fucking us government, i think the bad reputation is justified

Forgive me if I sound callous, but I have absolutely no sympathy for Rhysand flinching at the mention of Amarantha when Feyre didnt even use her name and is also talking about how she fucking DIED AT HER HANDS

God, I feel like I have something to say about every single line this post is gonna be like 10 thousand words long by the time Im done

So lets take it from the top; Feyre tries to convince the mortal queens to give them the half of the book by recounting to them how much everyone suffered under Amarantha and how she was gruesomely beaten to death and then revived, which is not a compelling argument to me, who actually witnessed all of that, much less these queens who have barely any context for anything shes saying right now

The oldest queen is like "you dont know anything about anything" which is true what the fuck does Feyre know about whats going on in the human world or even the fae world at large, and then Rhysand growls "dont you dare talk down to her!!" because shes passionate and speaking from the heart or whatever and its like, okay, shes still not good at politicking or even just basic negatioation and shes talking to a seasoned politician who old as fuck

Like, if Feyre was actually smart, she wouldve long since realized that she couldnt convince these queens to protect this little slip of land right up to prythians border and been like "okay, you dont wanna protect the land, but can you atleast organize an evacuation so you can atleast save the people" Sure, they definitely still wouldnt have agreed to that because its a sjm book and theyre written to be comically evil, but it would atleast demonstrate Feyre being a little savvy, because right now all we're getting is her being stupid and stubborn in a situation where she really cant afford that

god, im just now noticing how pissed off I am, its been bleeding into my commentary and its not gonna stop, Im sorry. wait no, if youre reading this youre probably looking for negativity, so youre welcome, actually

Anyway, Rhys also says that Feyre is a kindhearted soul looking out for people who cant defend themselves even though she definitely thought that those human guards were pathetic for wanting to defend themselves when she and the other fae were soooooo much more powerful and he definitely knows that because the mental bond is fully open during this meeting and he chastises the queens for being selfish and cowardly when its like, my brother in christ you are doing the exact same bullshit, but atleast the queens are defending a wholeass continent while hes defending one (1) city. and iirc that city ends up getting attacked and destroyed anyway so good job my guy

Theres something so oddly biblical about the story Mor is telling about Miriam, down to her name being Miriam

That island thats removed from time is such bullshit istg

Is it just me or have these bozos not actually explained what they even need the other half of the book for. theyre just like "we need to stop this war and we'd like peace between humans and fae" and its like cool, hows the book gonna help with that though

im sorry, feyre wants to punch that old woman in the face????

the chapter ends with Elain being like "I hope they burn in hell" and i get that, they just straight up said that they want to abandon a whole bunch of people (them included) to die if a war breaks out, but you cant say that the night court girlies are not also at fault for being so fucking bad at politics

#anti acotar #anti acomaf #anti rhysand #anti feyre #flames and darkness liveblog

[the-lonelybarricade]

Meet Me at Midnight Part I

Summary: Their grandmother had said the wooden toy soldier was for practical use—that he could be used to crush open nuts. Feyre didn’t have need for such a contraption, so she’d kept him on the mantelpiece. Sometimes, her eyes felt drawn to it. And like the portraits her father hung in his study, sometimes she swore as she moved through the room, she could feel the wooden toy soldier watching back.

Day 5: Crossover - Acotar x Nutcracker

SURPRISE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FILTHY AND NOW IT IS ALL PLOT. The porn will come later because apparently this will be multiple parts. Probably 2 or 3. If you see any typos no you didn't.

Read on AO3 ・Feysand Month Masterlist

-

“Did you know the Night Court used to be known for its starlight?”

Startled, Feyre sat down her paint brush and swiveled to look at her sister, resting across their settee with a large book open in her lap.

Feyre didn’t like to be disapproving. Not in the way Nesta was, constantly snapping at them like her demands were of higher importance because she was the eldest. But Elain was staring at her with wide eyes as she held the book aloft, curious and open-minded in a way so few people were.

“We’re not to speak of such things,” Feyre whispered. Her eyes flickered warily towards the large window of their sitting room. It was shut, but the curtains were drawn back to reveal the stars above. It was never safe to speak freely in the night time. “Don’t waste your tongue on ill-truths.”

“This is a history book,” Elain insisted. “It says that the seat of power in the Night Court was a city called Velaris. And its occupant was a handsome, kind-hearted High Lord.”

A startled laugh escaped Feyre, one she instantly felt guilty of when she saw Elain’s crestfallen expression. She’d always been the one, among the three of them, to dream up tales of happy endings and handsome princes. Feyre stared at that large, leatherbound book and she knew that whatever was written inside had as much historical accuracy as the children’s books their nurse used to read them before sleep.

No one was permitted to write a word of objection towards the ruling Night Court. If the author of this history book had spoken the truth, that the Court was a place of unrivaled cruelty and darkness, then he would have been publicly executed. Or worse.

“It also says that Ama—”

“Shhhh!”

Elain immediately sealed her lips shut.

That was another word they were forbidden to say. Out of fear it might summon her, or grant her further power. Names were powerful invocations.

“She,” Elain corrected astutely. “Took the crown from the High Lord and put a curse on him so that he couldn’t reclaim it.”

It was a curious book, afterall, if it said such a thing about the Deceiver. It was remarkable the author had lived long enough to publish it. And Feyre worried about the consequences of being caught in possession of such a thing. Would their house be burned, to destroy the book and every person who’d cast their eyes upon it?

The Queen of the North had done worse for lesser folly.

“What kind of curse?” Feyre asked, knowing if she was wise, she would snatch the book from Elain and burn it herself.

Elain frowned, paging curiously through its contents. “It doesn’t say. Only that the High Lord’s mate is the only one capable of freeing him.”

Typical, Feyre thought. Everything magic seemed to boil down to a mate. By the state of the world, the convention was clearly not effective. Mates were rare. And Feyre supposed if she were to provide a fail-safe to a curse, she would choose something equally improbable.

“I think that history is a very generous word to describe that book.” Feyre nodded to the crackling hearth. “And you should throw it into the fire. Cauldron forbid someone with a grudge against our family discovers it.”

Her sister held the book protectively to her chest. “Grandmother gave it to me.”

Ah. Feyre remembered now. It had been so odd that someone would gift a book to Elain and not Nesta—who had instead been given a key. Their grandmother had refused to reveal what the key opened, which had angered Nesta so fiercely that she had immediately chucked it into the hearth.

It was probably still there, if anyone bothered to shift through the ashes.

And standing proudly on the mantle above the hearth was the gift Feyre had received—a small, wooden figurine. She hadn’t been terribly ecstatic, considering her father carved wood as a pastime. She and her sisters had plenty of figurines to show for it, and the small knight was simply another added to the collection.

Except Feyre did appreciate the paint on him. A navy blue suit with golden buttons. Boots to his knees laced with silver. Vibrant purple eyes.

She would have thought him dashing, if not for the knob of wood in his center that functioned as his mouth. His jaw could distend all the way to his stomach, and Feyre thought it was a frightening sight. Their grandmother had said it was for practical use—that he could be used to crush open nuts. Feyre didn’t have need for such a contraption, so she’d kept him on the mantelpiece.

Sometimes, her eyes felt drawn to it. And like the portraits her father hung in his study, sometimes she swore as she moved through the room, she could feel the wooden toy soldier watching back.

“Hide it,” Feyre said finally, snapping her eyes away from the mantel. Her face felt hot, but it was only from staring into the flames. Elain was watching through wide brown eyes, head craned to the side in that watchful way of hers. Always drinking in the world, never speaking to what it revealed to her. “If anyone finds you with it, they’d be able to charge you with treason.”

Elain slammed the book shut with a glare. “You and Nesta are both so paranoid,” she complained, tucking the book under her arm as she stood up.

Feyre watched her stalk towards the door and hardly flinched when it slammed shut. In a house with three sisters each as stubborn as the next, the sound was hardly unusual—to the unending exasperation of their father. Their governesses had once diagnosed that with their manners, none of them would ever be suited for marriage. That sounded just fine to Feyre.

She was happy with their small estate, tucked safely at the border of the day court. Their father had been able to broker a deal with the High Lord to bring the estate under his protective wards. Elain could call her paranoid all she liked, but Feyre had been in the office the day their father had written that letter to Lord Helion. She’d seen his white knuckle grip on the quill, and she’d snooped through his ledger afterwards.

However exaggerated the Queen of the North’s cruelty, their father was afraid of her. Desperately, truly afraid.

If Feyre was being honest—so was she. The past few nights, she’d dreamt of a horrible, pale woman leering over her. She scratched at Feyre’s bedroom walls and peered through the window as though searching for a way in. And always, there was a shadow in Feyre’s periphery. Watching. Waiting. Listening.

It was why she stood up well past the acceptable hour to finish her painting. And it was why, when she pressed her hand to the doorknob, she hesitated. She’d been having trouble sleeping in her bedroom, but maybe here against the caress of the steady fire and the watchful eye of the toy soldier, the nightmares wouldn’t come.

The settee was soft, if a little stiff. But the hearth was warm, as was the blanket she drew over her legs. It didn’t take long for Feyre to drift off, soaking in their combined heat beneath those watchful violet eyes.

She stirred when the clock struck midnight.

Feyre couldn’t say for certain, for she had been asleep, but she could have sworn it stopped on the eleventh chime. It was the very ridiculous strain of thought that could only be conjured on a half-conscious mind. But when Feyre sat up and peered over to the mahogany longcase, she could see the pendulum behind the glass, still suspended in the air. Like it had yet to fall back down.

Had the mechanism gotten stuck?

That seemed a far better explanation than her initial conclusion—which was that time had frozen still.

Better yet, she must still be dreaming. Feyre rubbed her eyes, like she might dismiss the strangeness of it all. When she dropped them, the clock was still standing proudly in the corner, the pendulum still askew.

And most curiously of all, there was now a man standing before her.

Nesta would surely have made fun of Feyre for the sound that escaped in her startlement, but fortunately Nesta was not there to witness it. Only Feyre, and the strange man standing before the flickering flame.

Light danced up the side of his face, pressing adoringly against his warm brown skin, sparkling in his violet eyes. He tilted his head in such a way that his raven black hair fell into his face, and as his lips unfurled into a smile, something familiar tickled the back of Feyre’s mind.

She didn’t know how he could be familiar. He was easily the most beautiful male she had ever seen—not a remarkable feat, considering she’d seen so few of them. But this one, she was certain, must be the most beautiful. And if she had ever seen him before, she would surely know.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, in a voice that reminded her of molten chocolate.

Warm and rich and something she wanted to put her tongue against.

He laughed, and the sound evoked the same measure of delight. “You’re not afraid of me at all.”

“This is a dream,” Feyre said. “And you are the nicest thing I’ve dreamt of for days.”

“Not everything pleasant on the surface remains so,” he warned, but she could tell by the way his eyes crinkled that he was pleased by her assessment.

“If you ever met my sisters, you would know I understand that better than anyone,” Feyre said, with just enough lightness that she hoped it didn’t sound cruel.

“Perhaps.” By the twitch at the corner of his lips, she thought he was holding back another laugh. Feyre felt the strangest flush of pride that he found her joke amusing. “Even so, lady, I urge you to take caution. A poisoned sweet looks as lovely as any other.”

With a great deal of restraint, Feyre had moved on from staring at his lips, to rove over the long navy coat he wore. It was adorned by golden buttons and embroidery, graced by an epaulet on each shoulder.

“You’re my soldier,” she blurted, swept in awe as reassessed him.

He bowed, far more graceful than she would have expected from a wooden male, and reached for her hand so he could draw it to his lips. “At your service, Lady Archeron.”

“You know my name.”

He stared up at her through thick lashes from where he’d brushed his soft mouth against her knuckles. If he were truly the civilized male he was pretending to be, he would have released her by now. But he continued holding her hand, stroking his thumb across the back of her palm.

“Feyre,” he whispered, to prove it. Her eyes fluttered shut at the sound. She had never cared much for her own name, but if he continued speaking it like that she might reconsider. “I know so much more than that.”

“Prove it.”

He chuckled like he found the challenge endearing. “Allow me to sit with you.”

A glint of metal caught the corner of her eye, and Feyre’s attention latched to the long sword sheathed at his side. “Is that real?”

Metal sang against metal as he unsheathed it in answer. “Hold out your hands.”

Feyre obeyed readily, watching on stilted breath as he rested the flat edge against her palms.

“Have you ever held a sword, Feyre?” he asked.

“Father says it’s unladylike,” was her response. She watched him frown, but she shot him a conspiring grin. “So I’ve been sneaking into the guardroom to train in secret ever since.”

“You keep it, then.” He nodded toward the golden sword, which she was certain must cost a fortune even by her father’s standards. “It’s a useful skill to have.”

“Don’t you need it?”

“Not yet,” was his answer. “You can keep it safe for me.”

Considering this was a dream and she wouldn’t be able to take it with her when she woke up, Feyre felt no reason to argue with him. She glanced up, eager to thank him for his kindness, but in her haste she altered the balance in her palm just enough that the sharp edge of the knife cut into her skin.

She hissed, yanking her hands away so that the metal clattered to the floor.

Then, Feyre was gasping awake at the strike of a clock.

12:01.

The handsome male was gone, as was the sword that had clamored to the ground. She could see the toy soldier on the mantelpiece, standing just as she had left him. But… his sword was missing.

And on Feyre’s hand was a bright red slash, pooling with blood.

#We adapt #we overcome #we take a screenshot of the entire page and crop it to get our header #feysandmonth2022 #feysand #feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #feysand month #feysandmonth22

[flowerflamestars]

Hello! I was wondering about some world building bits in Effloresce. What are the powers for the courts. You imply there are multiple and that the plant power does not come from Spring. Also, why are the Courts the way they are (seasons/time of day/why is there no Dusk Court)? I am also super interested in the Wild Hunt and the wyrms in Autumn. Thank you, your writing is amazing!

Hi, thanks!

In Effloresce specifically I've wandered off track from canon world building- the sharp divide between High Fae are the Most Magic and humans are horrible weaklings doesn't really...appeal to me?

So there's magic everywhere.

(Also just. someone mentioned to me recently the books only call it 'power'? I'm definitely not going back to reread just for that, but that strikes me as...silly. ANYWAY)

We kind of take the Court system, and move outward. There's humans using magical objects. There's a ton of humans, like the Archerons, with faery blood. There's faery countries on the continent humans interact with that aren't behind a giant cursed wall. (The idea that all humans. EVERYWHERE. were slaves is just...such bad world-building, sorry)

There are, specifically, an enormous amount of different kinds of faeries.

So, a lot of western canon for fae stuff has this vague overarch of balance- light and dark, seelie and unseelie, things like that. Prythian is pretty clearly supposed to be an extension of that: a deeply magical faeryland, where balance is ingrained in everything. At least in theory.

I pick up there, and sort of keep going. There's no point in the Court system if faeries from the different Courts aren't actually distinct outside their outfit choices. They're all fae, tied to the land and immortal and beautiful, but the books make that SO boring.

So like, the plant thing: Feyre is oversimplifying a quintessential faery experience (communing with magical faeryland), because she's had the most woeful education imaginable.

Lucien is a forest faery, trees like him. Trees in AUTUMN are not quite the same as say, those Spring oaks he obliterated with Helion's famous destructive power. Making things grow isn't unique in and of itself. Capacity (power), feeling, and personal affiliation all matter to what a High Fae might accomplish. They're the top of the food chain because they have those broader definitions to work from- a random kelpie in a lake in say, Spring, will have a whole immortal power that is going to be water and lilies and murder, which is magically different than a siren in summer whose's dragging sailors down on the same tide that birthed her.

As for the wild hunt! I just love it? To me, it works in well with this established aesthetic of Autumn as a beautiful, wild, violent place. They're probably bound to the crown in some limited capacity.

The wyrm however, is a very small shout out to the idea that there used to more. Creatures, magic, power- that Prythian was a wilder place, and at some point, Rhysands stupid plan IS going to wake all that up, when the Night Court starts fucking with things they don't understand.

#thank you for the ask! #effloresce still going strong in my heart babes

[scarlettdragnastan]

The Lies We Tell Ourselves - An ACOTAR/ACOSF Fanfiction

Chapter 5

TW: self hate - anxiety - semi panic attacks - poor mental health

As soon as they reached the living room and saw Morrigan waiting for them, Cassian's hand left hers, and Nesta was violently reminded of a similar memory- a memory that seemed ages ago after the war.

"I'll go check on Nyx," Elain said quietly, quickly excusing herself. Nesta wanted to each to her, but she felt a wall similar to the one separating the fae and mortal realms between them.

"Mor, you okay?" Cassian's tone held deep deep concern a touch of gentle kindness, and Nesta loathes herself for this, but she can't help but count the times Cassian spoke to her this way.

Morrigan nodded, her face pale and ashen. "What's our next move?" His gaze switched to Amren and Rhys, standing next to each other, sporting equally deep frowns.

"Protect the items of the Dread Trove." Rhys answered, "The mask, harp, and the crown are all safe for now since the last time Mor put them back in that vault. Only Helion and us know about them and to our knowledge, Nesta is the only tablet to summon them now that Briallyn s dead."

Feyre stood beside Nesta and slipped her hand in hers. If it was Nesta from a year ago, she would have recoiled but this Nesta admits she needs Feyere, even if Feyre doesn't need her. Not that she would ever say this out loud. Some things never change.

"What about Nesta's dagger?" Feyre's eyes widened. "We gave it to Eris, and it is technically a Dread Trove object."

"Shit." Rhysand grimaced, "I forgot all about it. We have the two swords Nesta made but not the dagger, I'll go and ask him about it."

Rhysand hurried out of the room, and silence descended over them. Nesta's mind was flowing with thoughts- bad ones. Thoughts about war, death, loss, and slipping away. She looked at Cassian to find his hand resting on Mor's shoulders but his eyes glossed like he was looking at something only he can see.

They might be heading to another war and Nesta has jealousy bubbling inside of her. She scoffed at herself, hating how lately feelings of self-loathing and guilt are prominent again at the forefront of her mind.

"You okay?" Feyre's hand squeezed hers. Nesta nodded but couldn't bare to look her sister in the eye. But before Feyre could say anything else, Rhysand's worried face appeared.

He only needed to shake his head, and a blanket of fear settled over the room.

"I knew we shouldn't have given it to him." Cassian growled, "I told you- we told you it was a bad idea Rhys!"

Rhysand's face was marred with guilt, but before he could reply Amren stepped forward. "We'll get it back. We'll go and get it back."

Azriel nodded, speaking for the first time. "We can get it, but I fear it was their plan all along. To get us to come to retrieve the dagger."

"We still need to get it back," Feyre replied and Azriel nodded. "We'll be careful."

"Still, how did they know about the Dead Trove? How did Eris even know about it?"

It struck Nesta. In fact, it struck her so violently that a shiver racked her body and she felt her knees buckle.

"Nesta?" Feyre's worried voice barely reached her ear, but she could feel Cassian suddenly beside her, both him and Feyre supporting her weight.

"What if..." Nesta's voice was hoarse from lack of use, dread filling her entire body, and Cassian's breath hitched at the fear that traveled through the invisible bond between him and Nesta. "What if there is actually the fourth item? What if it was never destroyed or unmade? I saw it in the vision that day in the prison." She whispered the last words, and soon enough everyone went rigid.

"What if they found it and now they're looking for the rest of the items?" She gritted out.

"Impossible," Amren stressed, but now that the idea was out there, she looked like she was trying to convince herself of its lack of credibility. "No. It can't be, because if it was there you would have felt it right?"

Hey, unflinching and wide gaze fell on Nesta. Nesta who wanted to curl up in her bed and sleep because she doesn't think she can bare another war. She can barely sleep these days, her collection of nightmares being upgraded to Feyre dying or her valkyrie sister, how she failed to protect them all. Yet all she wanted to do now was sleep. A dark part of her whispered sleep and not wake up, and she shivered again.

"Answer me girl!" Amren's harsh words made Nesta flinch, and she shook her head.

"I don't know."

A harsh laugh left her mouth, "Great. the fate of the world is at stake and it all lies on the shoulders of a weak and pathetic girl."

"Amren! That's enough!" Rhys shouted, but the damage was already done.

Waste of space.

Belong in the court of Nightmares.

Should be dumped in the human lands and be left to die.

Unlovable and everyone hate her.

The fire crackling in the fireplace was mocking her as if making fun of her for just noticing its scathing hot, and burning presence. Cassian, as if feeling Nesta's internal turmoil, wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. It did the job, and Nesta's mind slowed down and took another trajectory.

Cassian hugged her in front of the inner circle. In front of Mor. It brought her immense relief and she's embarrassed to admit that a relieved sigh left her.

The instant the relieved sigh left Nesta's mouth, guilt nestled inside Cassian. He shot Amren a glare and her eyes fell to the floor as if ashamed. Amren ashamed? Cassian never thought he's live to see this day. Nesta's hand found his and she squeezed hard.

Cassian felt like the biggest asshole there is. It should have been him telling Amren to shut up, not Rhys, but the overwhelming anxiety and fear that Nesta was feeling were enough to paralyze him. Beside him, Nesta took another breath, "I couldn't sense the other items of the Dread Trove before I was actually close to them and was scrying day and night. Don't expect me to do miracles, especially now that I gave almost all of my powers back to the cauldron."

Nesta's voice was even, a mask of indifference adoring her face like she didn't just display any hint of fear or panic. But Amren didn't reply with a scathing remark, instead, her frown was thoughtful. "What if that is the reason they were able to find the fourth item? Somehow, you giving the power back to the Claudron maybe unearthed where the last item was hidden."

"We don't even know if Nesta's theory is correct. Let's not jump to conclusions," Morrigan said.

"She's right, our first step is to bring back Nesta's dagger from the Court of Autumn," Rhys said, voice commanding and Feyre walked up to her mate and nodded assuringly.

"Don't worry darling. We got this."

Feyre's presence in his mind soothed him, and his rigid posture relaxed as he smiled at her, before taking her hand in his. He turned to address his court,

"We begin the first mission today, no more delays. Operation retrieving the dagger starts now."

Tags:

@little-darlingo

#acotar #acosf #post acosf #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #feysand #nessian #feyre archeron #rhysand #nyx #nesta archeron #cassian #azriel #morrigan #elain archeron #amren #the night court #the inner circle #nessian fic #gwyneth berdara #emerie #valkyries #archeron sisters #nesta deserves better #inner circle #bat boys #feyre deserves better #pro nesta archeron #elain x feyre x nesta #gwyn x nesta x emerie

[nikethestatue]

In ch 13 of acosf Gwyn tells Nesta about Merrill’s research and tells her about how some philosophers believe there are as many as 26 worlds, with the last one being Time. Later in chapter 54, Lanthys tells Nesta and Cassian the consequences of the Harp and that even death bows to the last string. Nesta counts the strings on the harp which are 26 & and she recalls the information Gwyn told her … I love that Gwyn without knowing said what the last string does as she explained something else.

I didn’t make the connection the first time, but now that I’m rereading it makes so much sense 😄

Do you think there is a connection between the strings of the harp and the dimensions?

Yes absolutely. i think each string of the Harp might be corresponding to a different world. But I also think that if you bring the Harp into different worlds, it would react and act differently.

I have a theory that the Harp will be Elain's Trove object. I think the Mask is Nesta's, because it's directly linked to armies, fighting, and bloodshed. I think the Crown will be Feyre's, since it's connected to the daemati powers and to her status as a HL. And the Harp, which changes outcomes of the future, which can control time and space, would be Elain's, who is a Seer, and is able to See and know the future and impact outcomes.

[ladydeath-22]

Nesta Archeron Supremacy

1] Overcame a high lords glamour as a human

2] Stole majority of the Caldron’s powers as a human turning fae (you know, the thing the fae consider a God) (basically she stole from a God)

3] Connected to the Caldron which helped defeat the war against Hybern and saved Cassian’s life —> bonus decapitated the King of Hybern 

4] made the House of Wind come to life [literally gave an inanimate object sentience]

5] Her death powers made Rhys terrified (the most powerful high lord of Prythian) 

6] Controls and is connected to all the Dead Troves (Harp, Crown and Mask)

7] Wore the Mask and rose the dead and killed the Kelpie (another God) in the Oorid —> and successfully took the mask off [bonus: both Azriel and Cassian bowed to her] 

8] Survived the Blood Rite 

9] considered “Queen of Queens” and could have ruled the world with Lanthys 

10] Used all the Dead Troves to save Feyre, Rhys and Nyx —> and survived 

11] Made the friendship bracelets (with the help of Emerie and Gwyn) as beacons to find each other 

12] made the “Made” items (Ataraxia, dagger and sword) [I believe all 3 valkyries will have one] 

13] connected to the Mother has she intervened so the Caldron doesn’t take back all its power 

14] when Feyre visited the bone carver, he said the winds speak her name [clearly the old beings of the prison know and fear her]

15] death promise 

 I can’t wait for the next books to highlight her power!! (if you have anymore, please add on!)

#nesta #nesta archeron #nesta supremacy #nesta acosf #nesta is a queen #pro nesta #nesta archeron supremacy #queen nesta #nesta stan #lovenesta

[ggiuliass]

Rhys’s power rumbled in the room. “I do not want to be High King. There is no need to discuss it.”

“Yours is a terrible and beautiful power, Rhysand,” Amren said, sighing. “You have three magic blades before you, each a kingmaker in its own right, and yet you would rather share that power. Keep to your borders. Why?”

Rhys demanded, “Why do you want me to turn conqueror?”

Amren shot back, “Why do you shy from the power that is your birthright?”

Amren never says something if she doesn't truly believe it, if she doesn't know it for sure. It's Rhysand birthright to be high king, nonetheless he is the most powerful high lord prythian has ever had.

The cauldron wants him to be high king 👇🏻

“I will not be High King. I will not consider it, not today and not in a century.”

Amren looked to the great sword, still slowly rotating above them. “Then explain to me why, after thousands of years, objects that once crowned and aided the old Fae have returned. The last time a High King ruled Prythian, it was with a magic sword in his hand. Look at that great sword before you, Rhysand, and tell me that it is not a sign from the Cauldron itself.”

Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. “It was a fluke, Amren. Nesta didn’t make it on purpose.”

Amren shook her head, hair swaying. “Nothing is a fluke. The Cauldron’s power flows through Nesta, and could use her as a puppet without her knowledge. It wanted those weapons Made, and thus they were Made. It wanted Rhysand to have them and thus the blacksmith brought them to you. To you, Rhysand, not to Nesta. And do not forget that Nesta herself—and Elain, with whatever powers she has—is here. Feyre is here. All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own. Feyre alone doubles your strength. Nesta makes you unstoppable. Especially if she were to march into battle wearing the Mask. No enemy could stand against her. She’d slay Beron’s soldiers, then raise them from the dead and turn them on him.”

I think that there's gonna be a point where rhysand has no choice but to be high king. I HOPE SO.

Sarah give us rhysand high king. he would be the one who deserves it, he is the one who has been chosen to be high king.

#rhysweek #rhysweek22 #rhysweek2022 #high king #rhysand high king #he must be high king #acosf #sjm #acotar #acomaf #acowar #amren #amren tell us more

[385bookreviews]

1.71.5 A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J Maas

SPOILERS (mild Kingdom of Ash spoiler)

Pages: 751

Time Read: 12 hours and 2 minutes

Overall: ★★★★★ Storyline: ★★★★★ Dialogue: ★★★★★ Characters: ★★★★★

Genre: Fantasy/Romance

TWs for the book: S*xual content, violence, discussions of r*pe/s*xual assault, death, blood, mental illness, alcoholism, su*c*dal thoughts, death of a parent, pregnancy, murder, cursing, sexism/misogyny, gore, panic attacks, physical abuse, injury/injury detail, addiction, discussions of war, emotional abuse, domestic abuse, kidnapping, torture, s*xual harassment, confinement, child abuse, miscarriage, toxic relationships, child death, body horror, self harm, bullying, eating disorder, medical content/trauma, gaslighting, abandonment, fire, toxic friendship, classism, hate crime, ableism

POV: Third person; Cassian and Nesta

Time Period/Location: Velaris, The Court of Nightmares, Illyria, The Middle, The Spring Court, the Prison, the human lands of Prythian, and the human lands on the continent.

First Line: The black water nipping at her thrashing heels was freezing.

Set several months after A Court of Frost and Starlight, Nesta is still spending her time getting drunk and having s*x with random males. Cassian comes to get her to bring her to Feyre's new house on the river, where she is confronted by Rhys, Amren, and Feyre about her spending habits and the fact that she has no life and is being a self destructive alcoholic. They tell her that she will go live at the House of Wind, train with Cassian in Windhaven, and work in the library beneath the House. Nesta objects, but is told she will be sent back to the human lands otherwise. She refuses to train with Cassian at Windhaven, shelving books in the library and attempting to make it down the 10,000 steps of the House of Wind so she can go and get drunk at a tavern. Cassian realizes she needs privacy to train and begins training her at the House of Wind. Cassian spends time meeting with Eris, Lucien, Vassa, and Jurian to find out what the human queens are up to. The remaining three had fled back to their castles, but Briallyn, the young human who was turned into an old fae crone by the Cauldron, hunts for Nesta and the Dread Trove, three Cauldron made objects of great power. She works with Koschei, the Bone Carver and Stryga's brother and Vassa's captor, a death-lord confined to a lake. Nesta meets Gwyn, a fae-nymph priestess in the library, and Emerie, an Illyrian with her wings clipped who owns a shop up in Illyria. She eventually convinces them to come to training, along with other priestesses. It is revealed that Feyre is pregnant, but that the baby has wings and Feyre doesn't have the anatomy to be able to birth him without it killing her or the baby. Rhys decides to keep this a secret from Feyre as he searches for a way to save her. Nesta, Azriel, and Cassian go to the Bog of Oorid in the Middle in order to find the Mask, part of the Dread Trove that can raise the dead. They are attacked by Eris' missing Autumn Court soldiers that were kidnapped by Briallyn, and Nesta is taken by a kelpie. While being dragged along the bottom of the Bog, she finds the Mask and uses it to kill the kelpie. The Autumn Court soldiers are under some sort of spell, and they quickly discover that they are being controlled by the Crown, the part of the Dread Trove that can mind control people. Nesta's powers are revealed to be Pure Death. Cassian and Nesta start a physical relationship even though both of them want more than that and Nesta begins healing with the help of Cassian, Azriel, Emerie, and Gwyn.

Cassian takes Nesta to a blacksmith and she helps him forge two swords and a dagger, which he later brings to Rhysand claiming they are cursed. Amren examines them and claims that Nesta has created a "new Dread Trove" as magical weapons hadn't been seen for centuries and were all lost or destroyed. They vote over whether or not to tell Nesta, and the vote goes in her favor. When Cassian tells her, however, she is angry that they voted on her and in her anger, she marches down the 10,000 steps and goes to Amren's apartment to yell at her. Feyre comes running to diffuse the situation, but Nesta angrily tells her that her baby is going to kill her. Rhys demands Cassian get her out of the city before he kills her, and Cassian takes Nesta into the wilderness and they hike for several days to a lake. Nesta doesn't speak until she gets to the lake and begins sobbing and confesses all of her feelings and traumas to Cassian. They stay at the lake for a few days and then go back to the House of Wind. Nesta has a vision of the Harp, the part of the Dread Trove that can open portals and control time itself, and sees that it's at the Prison. Her and Cassian go to retrieve it but are confronted by a death-god named Lanthys and more of the captured Autumn Court soldiers. Nesta kills Lanthys with one of the swords she forged, Ataraxia, and they use the Harp to flee the Autumn Court soldiers. Nesta apologizes to Feyre. Nesta also agrees to dance with Eris at the Night Court in order to woo him and secure his alliance. At Winter Solstice, Cassian gets her a gift, an enchanted item that plays music so she can listen to it and dance. She tries to refuse it and they fight, and she claims that she is unworthy of anything but Eris. They have s*x and the mating bond snaps into place, but Nesta nor Cassian acknowledge it, and Cassian leaves for several days. When he returns, he tries to acknowledge the mating bond and Nesta panics and refuses and sends him away, running to Emerie's shop in Illyria. Gwyn joins them, and when they go to sleep that night, they are kidnapped by Illyrian soldiers and forced to participate in the Blood Rite, the Illyrian version of the Hunger Games that allows them to become warriors. Cassian and Azriel learn that Eris has been kidnapped by Briallyn and go to rescue him. Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn make it up Mount Ramiel, and almost win but are stopped by Emerie's cousin who is mind controlled by Briallyn and the Crown. On the continent, Azriel escapes with Eris but Cassian is captured by Briallyn and put under her control, and Koschei winnows them to Mount Ramiel where Nesta has just defeated Emerie's cousin. Emerie and Gwyn escaped to the magic rock atop the mountain and were instantly winnowed back to Windhaven. Cassian tries to kill Nesta under Briallyn's control, and Nesta's power is unleashed and she completely Unmakes Briallyn. Azriel and Mor winnow in and tell them that the baby is coming early and Feyre is dying. They go to her bedside but there is nothing to be done for her or the baby. They cut the baby out of Feyre, but he is dead, and Feyre begins to die. Because of a bargain between them, if Feyre dies, Rhys also dies. Nesta summons the Mask, the Crown, and the Harp and tells the Cauldron she'll give it back her power if the Mother helps to heal Feyre. Feyre is healed, the baby is healed, and Feyre and Nesta's anatomy both change to be able to have Illyrian babies in the future. Nesta accepts the mating bond with Cassian.

Nesta Archeron: Nesta was a really unlikeable character in A Court of Frost and Starlight, but it is revealed and explained why she acted the way she did and how she was handling her trauma. She's definitely a very brave person and also very fierce and loyal despite her anger. Once she is able to find herself again, you end up rooting for her ambitions and desires and goals. I didn't like that at the end Nesta loses most of her power, as SJM also did this to Aelin in Kingdom of Ash.

Cassian: I love that Cassian never gave up on Nesta and never abandoned her no matter how mean or difficult she was with him. He didn't just have feelings for her because of the mating bond, but rather truly loved her.

Rhysand: In my opinion Rhysand from other people's perspectives isn't as nice as he is from Feyre's. He acted like an ass towards Nesta for most of the book, only changing his actions after she saved his, Feyre's, and baby Nyx's lives. And the fact that he wouldn't tell Feyre that the baby was going to kill her, and then wanted to kill Nesta for telling her of it, even if it was done in anger, was so out of line.

Storyline: I did love the storyline and even though it had a bit of slower pacing and was longer than any of the other books, I was fully invested the whole time. The spicy scenes were definitely a plus, and I like getting to see the things they have to deal with after the war instead of it just being a happily ever after. Also Eris and Tamlin potentially getting a redemption arc is going to be really interesting, and I noticed some foreshadowing for Elain maybe not staying in the Night Court (but I am not getting into the middle of the Elriel/Gwynriel shipwar)

Representation: Emerie, Cassian, Azriel, Rhys, and the rest of the Illyrians are written as people of color, Helion is black, Lucien is mixed and has a mechanical replacement for an eye. Nesta struggles with her mental health and addiction, and Emerie is crippled due to her father clipping her wings when she was young. Clotho also has damaged hands and no tongue due to being attacked, and she uses a magical pen to write down her thoughts as a way of speaking. It is hinted that Emerie might be gay as she blushes when seeing Mor.

Summary: As with all of SJM's books, I love them deeply, and while I do always have criticisms, I am glad she is taking the time to expand upon the characters that she has created and her worlds.

Quotes: "Never again would she be weak. Never again would she be at someone's mercy. Never again would she fail."-about Nesta (p.402)

#book review #book blog #books #book reviews #fantasy #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm #sarah j maas #nesta archeron #cassian

[acourtofthought]

Gwynriel Stuff

Gwyn asked, on Nesta’s other side, “Do you have them often?” “Yes.” Nesta finished a sit-up, grunting through the weakness in her middle. “Me too,” Gwyn said quietly. “Some nights, I need a sleeping potion from our healer to knock me out.”

"I wish I could" he answered silently. But sleep so rarely found him these days.

They both struggle to sleep and would both find peace at night together which he already found a little bit of on the rooftop that night 🥹

Also, is it just me or does it seem like the shadows tried to prevent Az from making the mistake he did with Elain while trying to encourage him to spend more time with Gwyn?

Azriel snickered to himself, to the listening shadows around him. "Sleep, they seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep"

But Az ignored the shadows, staying by the fireplace longer ("he knew he'd be swallowed by it if he went up to his bedroom, so he remained down here by the dying light of the fire") until he eventually left which is when he ran into Elain. Had he listened to the shadows in the first place, the situation with Elain and Rhys would have never happened, preventing Az from feeling even worse than he originally did. They knew when she returned to her room which to me means they also knew she was awake and the shadows may have encouraged Az to leave before anything more happened.

But where they initially encouraged him to sleep, they no longer seemed all that worried about it when they were "content to lounge on his shoulders to watch" Gwyn, after that restless feeling inside of Az settled.

The shadows seem to sense what Az needs while Az ignores their advice which isn't that surprising when you look back at Azriel's history and his refusal to listen to anyone who tells him what to do, even if it's the smart thing:

Azriel had sealed them in, and as his scarred hands wrapped around Eris’s throat, Rhys said, “Enough.” Azriel squeezed, Eris thrashing beneath him. No physical brawling—there had been a rule against that, but Azriel, with whatever power those shadows gave him … “Enough, Azriel,” Rhys ordered. Azriel dug his knee—and all his weight—into Eris’s gut. He was silent, utterly silent as he ripped the air from Eris’s body. “Call off your overgrown bat,” Beron ordered Rhys.

“I’m going in,” Azriel said. “No,” Rhys snapped. But Azriel was spreading his wings, the sunlight so stark on the new, slashing scars down the membrane. “Chain me to a tree, Rhys,” Azriel said softly. “Go ahead.” He began checking the buckles on his weapons. “I’ll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back.”

“I want to confirm that Briallyn has the Crown,” Azriel said. “I’ll travel to the human lands tomorrow.” “No,” Feyre and Rhys said at the same time, in the same breath. Azriel’s eyes shuttered. “I wasn’t asking for permission.” Rhys smirked. “Doesn’t matter.” Az opened his mouth to object, but Feyre said, “You’re not going, Azriel. “Give me some credit, Feyre,” Az said. “I can keep hidden well enough.” “We take no risks,” Feyre said, voice flat with command. “Pull all your spies out.” “Like hell I will.”

I have hope we'll soon be entering an era of Az making smarter choices though, we get the first hints that he can learn to respect the chain of command:

The High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court had faced off against the shadowsinger this afternoon, and emerged triumphant. Perhaps triumphant wasn’t the right word, but the argument had ended with Azriel grudgingly agreeing not to spy on Briallyn for the time being—and brooding all through dinner.

And he only went near Briallyn to retrieve Eris when Feyre and Rhys allowed it:

Az said, “We have to get him out.” Cassian drew up short. “We?” Rhys stepped up next to Azriel, Feyre beside him. A formidable wall. “We can’t go,” Feyre said, nodding to Rhys.“You and Azriel need to retrieve Eris.” “Why not you?” Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose. “Because Amren is …” “Powerless,” Amren snarled. “You can say it, girl.” Feyre winced. “Mor left for Vallahan this morning and is out of our daemati magic’s range. Az can’t go in alone. We need you, Cassian.”

Which also means Rhys ordering him to stay away from Elain when Az couldn't convince him that he had actual feelings for her won't necessarily result in Az disobeying him as some think.

#pro gwynriel #gwynriel #azriel acosf #gwyn acosf

[starzablaze]

@faenet event: objects –> High Lady Feyre’s crown collection

Rhys had crowned me at each and every meeting and function we’d had, long before I was his mate, long before I was his High Lady. Even Under the Mountain.

…

Carved into the rock was an entire wall of crowns. They each had their own resting place, lined with black velvet, each illuminated by-

“Glowworms,“ Rhys told me

…

“Pick whichever crown you like.“

“I can’t just-take one.“

“You most certainly can. They belong to you.“

(Image courtesy: Pinterest)

#faenet #faenet event 5 #objects: feyre's crowns #feyre #feyre archeron #high lady of the night court #rhysand #high lord #feysand #night court #court of dreams #court of nightmares #feyre darling #inner circle #starfall #prythian #mor #amren #nesta #elain #cassian #azriel #rhys #lucien vanserra #feyrhys #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of thorns and roses