#rhysand and his abusive ways? just a few positions up

[theweeklydiscourse]

LARPing Villainy: Rhysand’s character is weighed down by Sarah J Maas’s need to make him sympathetic to the audience.

Maas distorts her own narrative in her attempts to make Rhysand more sympathetic to her readers. Although Maas will employ the aesthetics of villainy or grey morality, her framing is such that the established negative traits or actions of certain characters are contradicted within the text. Rhysand is not the only example of this in ACOTAR, but I believe that he exemplifies this problem the most.

I believe that Rhysand’s development is stunted by Maas’s favoritism and it makes him a less interesting character when she tries so hard to keep him noble and heroic. It’s as if his actions can’t just exist and instead, must be explained away by incessant justifications to keep him sympathetic but dull the story's edge in the process.

To illustrate my point, I'd like to point to chapter 42 of ACOMAF.

This chapter is centered around Feyre’s introduction to the Court of Nightmares and it is meant to be a moment of growth for Feyre as demonstrated by her fortitude and willingness to re-enact events that had previously traumatized her under the mountain. The passage describes Feyre as "barely covered" and emphasizes the color of her lips, describing them as “blood red”. A color that once triggered Feyre due to its association with Amarantha but no longer bothers her as demonstrated by her donning it.

Feyre's empowerment, as shown in this chapter, feels both superficial and hollow in nature. It is a moment of development that is marred by Maas's lack of build-up and her desire to accelerate Feyre's healing journey. Suddenly, after months of panic attacks, flashbacks, and anxiety, Feyre is calm, collected, and ready to partake in a plan where she will be placed in a situation where she will reenact her previous negative experiences. Something that should be triggering, but isn't.

This scene masquerades as a moment of growth and empowerment for Feyre but is in actuality a thinly veiled excuse for Maas to clumsily gesture towards the sexual tension between the main couple and form the basis for a contrived argument in the very next chapter. I came to this conclusion because the "plan" Rhysand creates is politically incoherent and ridiculous. The plan necessitates putting Feyre in a vulnerable position even though doing so makes very little sense and arguably puts Feyre in a worse place than before.

This incoherent plan is never meaningfully questioned or used as a foundation for change in Rhysand's tactics and strategies.

Let’s put this in perspective. According to the story, Rhysand is aware that the Court of Nightmares is full of unrepentant misogynists who habitually sanction the violence and abuse of the women in their court. So with this in mind, is it truly a wise plan for Rhysand to put the person he loves in a position where she will be the subject of judgment and contempt for an audience? He actively puts Feyre in a vulnerable position and approved a plan that involves Feyre putting on the costume of the High Lord’s “whore” and yet, is later appalled that Feyre was slandered as a result.

He then leans further into his darker persona, affirming Keir’s comments about Feyre being his “pet”.

The pair continues their show and Rhysand exchanges a few more words before Keir calls Feyre a whore and hisses that Feyre will “get what’s coming to her”. To this, Rhysand reacts explosively and puts Keir in his place by brutalizing his arm and forcing him to apologize for his words in a “how DARE you slander my mate?! grrrrr” moment. This moment informs my larger point because it is the cause of an argument between Feyre and Rhysand in the very next chapter.

There are certain parts of this exchange that bother me.

Feyre silently draws similarities between Tamlin and Rhysand’s behavior and criticizes Rhysand’s reaction to Keir’s slander. Obviously, we understand why he acted that way, but I hate how Rhysand responds to Feyre’s criticism in a way that feels like guilt-tripping. As if to say “So I’m such a bad person for protecting you from harm? Go on, hate me for protecting you I guess.” And this puzzles me because technically it was Rhysand’s plan that placed Feyre in a position where slander and contempt should have been expected.

Feyre is right. Rhysand should have prepared himself better for this plan but I feel like it’s a missed opportunity that Feyre never brings up how this plan could’ve been done away with altogether. They could have had an easier time in the Court of Nightmares if they had just not placed Feyre in such a vulnerable position and not made her image that of the “High Lord’s whore” which attracted Keir’s slander in the first place. This plan that necessitates Feyre wearing a dress that barely covers her as she’s shown off to a crowd is irritatingly contrived and makes even less sense when you factor in Rhysand’s concerns about Feyre’s safety.

But now onto my main point. I present to you, my least favourite passage from chapters 42 and 43.

I’d like to call attention to how Rhysand frames himself in this passage. He says “how stories get written” as though the narrative is under the sole jurisdiction of outside forces. He denies his agency in the “story” being written about his relationship to Feyre. He frames himself as noble, being unfairly characterized as a demon or a dark lord for stealing Feyre from Tamlin. But his complaints are ridiculous to me because…did the previous chapter not just happen?

Because… if we’re checking the till here, it was Rhysand who explained his public relations strategy as a “mask”. It was also Rhysand who deliberately cultivated his image to be one of an intimidated and dangerous ruler, it was Rhysand who constructed a persona of cruelty which was bolstered by his presumed collaboration with Amarantha. Rhysand was the one who approved a plan that involved toting Feyre around like a “pet” and making a statement that implies that he is a “ dark lord who stole away the bride of spring”.

He wrings his hands over how their story will be written as if he has no control over it. As if he isn’t deliberately shaping the narrative that the public sees and has no say in the matter. The narrative frames him as being “anguished” that people would view him as a villain…but then had him take active measures to reaffirm that he appears villainous to the public.

So What's My Point?

Why does Maas establish facts about her characters, only to obfuscate those qualities later on? Why do the readers need to know that Rhysand is in such anguish about his being perceived as a villain when he takes active measures to project that exact image to the public? What I reason, is that Maas wants to have it both ways (to have her cake and eat it too) She wants Rhysand to be cool and villainous, but doesn't actually want to make him villainous. Rhysand is LARPing villainy, enough that he possesses the aesthetics of a dark love interest (ex. dubious morals, manipulative, shrewd) but not so much that he actually pushes the boundary because Maas is always there to walk back his edgier qualities.

The same can be said for the events of these two chapters. She wants to have a moment of sexual tension where her leads are engaging in pseudo-BDSM exhibitionism and getting close with one another, but also wants to make a grand statement on healing from one’s past trauma which ends up being in conflict with the former.(it wouldn’t be impossible to accomplish both in theory, but Maas just isn’t skilled enough to pull it off)

All this to say, I think Rhysand had potential but is unfortunately held back by Maas’s need to absolve him. Personally, I think I’d like it more if Rhysand actions/decisions were criticized more within the text and that his “mask” was discarded as a legitimate aspect of his character. The “mask” makes him less interesting, I’d prefer it if Maas just let him contend with his flaws and grow because of it.

#acotar meta #rhysand meta #sjm critical #anti sjm #feyre acotar #feyre archeron #rhysand critical #rhysand #tamlin #acowar

[icey--stars]

You Cuddled Me

Oh no... there's only one bed at the Inn and there's two of them...

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Day 2 of @azrisweek 2023 (Favorite Tropes)

a/n: look, ya’ll, my self control went out the window when i read the prompt and saw “enemies to lovers” and “only one bed.”

WARNINGS: mentions of domestic abuse and some slight spicy talk towards the end

{ ao3 } "i want to break these bones 'till they're better" series: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Why did everything seem to be falling apart right now? Eris seriously needed it to stop for just a few moments so he could get his bearings back. He was walking beside the shadowsinger of the Night Court after just almost draining his magic dry to let him and Azriel escape a Bogge. For some reason, the creature was on Autumn Court lands at the worst moment possible. They’d only just barely escaped that damned creature.

If I had my father’s powers already, then I would’ve been able to kill it, he thought.

Eris had been preparing to kill his father in one week and he’d been “traveling,” according to Beron for three. He’d actually been with the Night Court. Azriel was Rhysand’s way of a compromise instead of staying in Hewn City for those three weeks.

“Why won’t you let me winnow us?” Azriel asked again.

“Because we’re not,” Eris snapped. He wouldn’t stoop so low as to let the shadowsinger from the Night Court winnow him. He had far higher standards.

“It’d be better for you to regain your strength quicker in a bed rather than hiking lost through these forests,” Azriel argued.

“We are not lost,” Eris growled. “I know these woods like the back of my hand.”

“Where are we then?” Azriel quizzed, seemingly unable to believe Eris had memorized his own court.

“Just south of the Winter Court border. We’re traveling east, toward a village we can stay at for the night,” Eris answered. “Please have more faith in me, shadowsinger.”

Azriel huffed, his shadows swirling faster. Eris rolled his eyes and turned back to the familiar Autumn Court forests.

“We’re wasting time,” Azriel said.

“We’re not,” Eris argued.

“You have to kill your damned father in a week and you just spent all your magic on that Bogge.”

“And?” Eris prompted.

“Don’t you need to save your magic?”

“Even if I saved my magic for a century I wouldn’t be able to beat him. How much magic I have makes no difference, shadowsinger.”

“Then how the hell are you killing him?”

“By being smart,” Eris growled. ��Apparently, you lack the skill to do that.”

“Or you lack any saneness,” Azriel muttered, his wings briefly spreading before resettling.

“You know, there’s a reason why I didn’t tell your friendly little High Lord how I was going to kill my father,” Eris drawled, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “He’d stop me in my tracks and force me into a plan that wouldn’t even work.”

“Enlighten me in your plans then.”

Eris sighed, rubbing his eyes as he stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face the Illyrian. “Do you really want to know or do you want to complain?”

Azriel paused, hands sliding into his pockets. He would look casual if it wasn’t for the shadows coiling up over his shoulders like asps preparing to strike. “Tell me,” the shadowsinger ordered.

He was positively the worst guard that Eris had ever had.

“Fine,” Eris relented. If only to shut him the hell up, he reasoned silently.

A small smile appeared on Azriel’s face in triumph, but Eris paid it no mind as he began to explain his plan. First, he’d enact the traditional Blood Duel for the crown. 

Azriel already dared to scoff. Eris gritted his teeth to stop himself from mentioning it. He’d make this power exchange traditionally or not at all. His citizens had to respect him.

The next step, during the Blood Duel, would be to put all his magic toward a shield when his father inevitably attempted to spear him through with fire. It would most likely occur further into the duel, which he would dodge and grit his teeth against burns. However, after that, his father would be more drained, as would he be. Eris was certain that he could beat Beron in one-on-one combat without magic. Weapons or not.

Beron would be able to choose the stakes of the duel if there were weapons or not, but Eris would decide the time. Eris already had at least a hundred allies in the Forest House that reported to him. The guards, the servants, his brothers… his mother. Beron wouldn’t expect the witnesses of the Blood Duel to take his side.

He knew Beron was already preparing for the day Eris challenged him, but Eris had been planning since he was ten years old, when Beron had first laid a hand on him with that damned whip.

He didn’t mention that part to Azriel.

When he finished his explanation, Azriel hummed thoughtfully and then began to walk again. Eris wasn’t even phased by the lack of reaction. It was a lot like the shadowsinger to show nothing.

They kept walking in silence after that.

When they were about an hour away from sunset and the village, Azriel finally spoke. “I suppose your plan might work. But you’ll have to be quick to anger him into ending it, because I doubt you can survive that long, and I doubt he’d not be able to see your plan. The power surge should save you once he’s dead.”

“I know,” Eris stated. And that was that.

Eventually, the lights of the town were in sight. By then, Eris was dragging his feet and only managing to stay upright because he didn’t want to seem weak in front of the Illyrian warrior beside him.

“What, are you going to demand entry to someone’s home or something?” Azriel asked, his expression looking mocking.

Eris rolled his eyes. “We’re not barbarians like your people,” he replied. “There’s a local Inn.”

Azriel looked about ready to jump him at that comment. Eris felt strangely proud for being able to rile up the silent shadowsinger so much.

“This way,” Eris merely said, walking off without a care. He was, however, keeping close attention to the sounds of Azriel’s footsteps on the crunchy leaves. The spymaster might be able to stay silent in other terrains, but Eris was suited quite well to the leafy floors of the Autumn Court. He knew how and where to step to stay silent if he wanted to. Azriel didn’t.

The Inn was close by and with the sun falling beneath the horizon, they made it inside just in time to avoid Azriel’s time of the day. Eris might be able to beat Azriel in the day on his land but at night? It’d be close.

“General,” the keeper immediately bowed his head. “And Spymaster of Night.”

Eris put on a smile that radiated ease. “We need two rooms for the night.”

The housekeeper gulped, looking down at the papers on the desk. “Uhm…” they hesitated.

“What?” Eris asked, narrowing his eyes.

“We only have one open room tonight I’m afraid…” the keeper said.

“Two beds works just as fine,” Eris settled.

“It’s- it’s just one bed.” The housekeeper sounded nervous and quiet. Eris took a deep breath and sighed. He was too exhausted to handle much of anything else this evening.

“Fine,” Eris sighed. He slid a silver over the counter as payment. “Keep the change.” The keeper swallowed, clearly uncomfortable, before coming around the corner to lead them both up the stairs, to a sharp left, and then on the last door, he opened it.

“Here you are, sirs,” The keeper said.

Eris waved him off and instead just entered the room, holding back a groan at the sight of the measly bed in the center. He knew this town was popular, as it was near one of the bigger cities and was perfect for people to stay, especially with a visiting circus in that city, but he didn’t expect all the rooms to be full.

“Right, how are we doing this shadowsinger?” Eris asked. He shifted his gaze to the room around them. Tiny. Enclosed. There was no room on the floor and the bathroom wasn’t much better. Eris was curious if the Illyrian would even be able to fit in the bathroom properly with those huge wings attached to his back.

Azriel hummed, eyeing the bed and then the floor.

“I should’ve just winnowed us,” Azriel said.

Eris took a breath through his nose, making sure it was audible to show his waning patience. “If you keep whining, shadowsinger, maybe it’ll annoy the people in the other rooms so much they’ll give us their room.”

“Stop being so sarcastic for once,” Azriel growled.

“Stop complaining,” Eris retorted.

Azriel groaned. “Fine,” he stated. “Fuck it. We’re grown males.”

“You have wings,” Eris said with a raised brow.

“I’ll manage.”

Eris hummed before making his way to the bathroom. “I’m taking the first shower, shadowsinger.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from the primping son of a High Lord.”

“Should I expect more from an Illyrian bastard?”

“You should’ve learned by now that insult doesn’t work on me.”

“Oh, you need a new insult?” Eris taunted. “How about Rhysand’s dog? You sit, you stay and you fetch when he asks. Even better, you attack when he says so.”

“Oh shut it and get in the damn shower.”

Eris smirked and slammed the door shut without an ounce of regret for the others in the room across from them. He unbelted his sword from his hip and went for the daggers he had next.

He bit his lip briefly when he realized he’d be going to bed weaponless, lying next to a trained Illyrian warrior. He’d just have to hope that Azriel truly was going to obey his master’s orders. He moved to get the iron armor that covered his upper chest and then the lighter leather armor under it and his boots. I really do need to get a new chest plate, he thought, remembering when he was quite literally skewered on the ice by Cassian.

Finally, he was left in some undershorts and a t-shirt, which he quickly took off and turned the shower on as hot as it would go. He undid the leather strap around his hair next and then turned to the shower.

He briefly flared his fire to heat his blood so the water wouldn’t burn him immediately, and then let it fade and let the water do the work for him. He ran a wet hand through his hair, sighing with frustration as he felt burrs and leaves stuck in them from his rolls with the Bogge.

He used the provided shampoo, conditioner, and body wash before getting out. He didn’t bother with the one towel provided and instead just dried himself off with the fire in his blood. He put his shorts and shirt on and carried his armor and weapons out of the bathroom, ignoring Azriel who seemed to be carefully scanning and counting each one. He set them down on the limited floor space just as Azriel went into the bathroom himself.

He sighed, tightening his hair into a bun to avoid as much touching with Azriel as he could. He sat down on the bed, sighing with brief frustration. It was just a night sleeping in the same bed as Azriel. He would be fine. Perfectly fine-

Azriel opened the door again, still wet and shirtless.

Eris blinked and turned back to face the opposite wall to hide his blush.

When did the Illyrian get so damn attractive? Seriously, that muscle looked unreal.

Eris had slept with a few males before. There were enough experiments he’d had that gave him something else to hide from his father. If Beron ever caught wind of the knowledge he preferred males in bed over females… he’d be strung up by a spear through his heart.

He shook his head clear of those thoughts and turned back toward Azriel with more confidence.

Azriel, however, must’ve noticed, because he was smirking like a fiend.

“I would’ve never guessed the heir of Autumn was attracted to males,” Azriel drawled. “Do you see something you like, little Eris?”

“I’m not little,” Eris snapped, and grit his teeth when he realized the potential double meaning behind his words. Damn the shadowsinger for seeing his weakness and exploiting it.

Azriel looked entirely too happy at the moment, adjusting his shorts lower on one side as he scratched at his hip.

“I don’t sleep with a shirt,” Azriel said. “Too annoying with the wings.”

Of course, he didn’t. Eris internally was telling himself to keep a straight face.

“How interesting that you’ve kept this little bit of yourself hidden,” Azriel continued as Eris attempted to ignore the hip bone and muscles on the Illyrian’s figure.

“Shut it,” Eris snapped.

“Why doesn’t anyone else know?”

Eris heard just a little bit of curiosity in the shadowsinger’s voice. He was honestly asking.

“The Autumn Court isn’t exactly friendly towards people like me,” Eris said. “In fact, people regularly laugh at Helion and Thesan for their preferences. Openly mocking at worst.”

“Damn this place is fucked up,” Azriel sighed, sitting on the bed, causing it to dip in his direction.

“Just shut up,” Eris growled. “You’ll be leaving soon anyway.”

“Unless you die,” Azriel mused. “Then I’ll be spying some more here.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “As if you don’t already do that.”

Azriel shot him a little smirk which told him that Azriel spied on the Autumn Court quite regularly.

“Of course,” Azriel drawled. “Perhaps I was expecting too much from the people who left Mor with a metal spike in her stomach.”

Eris’s fists closed tightly and he took a deep breath. Calm down, he scolded himself. “You would never understand the forces at play then, shadowsinger,” Eris retorted.

“Tell me then,” Azriel growled back.

“You wouldn’t believe me, so get under the damn covers and go to bed.”

“You first.”

Eris rolled his eyes and proceeded to slide under the covers, looking over at Azriel expectantly.

“I’ll turn off the lights,” Azriel muttered.

“Don’t bother,” Eris said. “They’re flames, I’ll extinguish them off when you manage to get comfortable.”

“Don’t you use faelights? And aren’t you out of magic?” Azriel asked, hesitantly getting under the covers.

“I’m not out. Just weaker. And we do,” Eris said. “But flame makes it so much easier for the High Fae around here.”

“Of course it does,” Azriel muttered under his breath and slid so the pillow was under his head. He was turned toward Eris’s side of the bed, his wings hanging partially over the edge so he didn’t have to get on Eris’s side of the bed. Eris sighed and slid down, the covers going under his arm and the other going under the pillow with a strategically placed dagger just in case.

He winked out the flame lights in the room then and waited in tense silence, listening to Azriel’s breaths.

Eris sighed and tried to focus on his thoughts– not the killer behind him.

He had to quell that attraction to Azriel quickly, he told himself. Azriel hated him. He had to control himself as well. He must be losing his edge if he was blushing at the sight of Azriel without a shirt. It was just another male, he scolded himself, he didn’t need to react so strongly. He’s only the hottest male you’ve ever seen.

Internally, he growled at himself for that comment.

Soon enough, he found his mind’s wandering beginning to fall into nothing. Azriel’s breaths were slowed behind him and with that, he fell asleep.

-----

The first thought that occurred to him when he awoke to the sun’s light in his eyes, was that he was eternally grateful that he didn’t have a nightmare.

The next was that there was a muscled, naked chest in front of him and arms wrapped over his body, and his own arms wrapped around the waist of the male as well. What’s even worse is that he felt so safe like this.

The soft breathing above him was so peaceful.

The final thought that he had was the most jarring. He was fucking cuddling with Azriel. In bed. Cauldron boil him alive, when in the night had they wrapped themselves around each other? When had the lapse in his control occurred?

He took a deep breath, shifting slightly. The other male also moved, his hold on Eris briefly tightening before relaxing when Eris stopped moving.

Fucking hell, he swore silently. He had to get up now. He had to stop them both from being so embarrassed they couldn’t even look at each other without blushing.

He prepared himself internally for the argument he was about to start before pushing at Azriel’s chest with a snarl that was only partially for play.

“Damned brute,” he growled as Azriel startled awake. Eris continued, “Couldn’t stop yourself from wrapping around the only warmth in the bed, could you?”

Azriel sat up immediately, blushing bright red.

Well, I failed that part, Eris thought.

Azriel schooled his face after a moment into cold-hearted fury. “More like you searching for something to wrap your arms around. I bet you still sleep with stuffed animals.”

He did. Sometimes. He’d forced himself into hugging pillows or his dogs instead, but on occasion, he still took out that little stuffed fox his mother got him when he was young. But nobody would ever know that. Definitely not Azriel.

“More like you do,” Eris retorted, standing from the bed. “You were definitely the first to do it.”

Azriel scowled. “As if. You kept ogling my muscles last night, so you were definitely the first.”

Eris leaped on the bed again, attempting to pin Azriel to the mattress. Alas, when you try to pin the Illyrian warrior who weighs more than you with your hair unbound, you normally find yourself pinned.

Azriel pressed a knee into the small of his back, yanking his head back by his hair. Eris let out a small yelp, straining against the weight on his back with his arms to try and turn. The dagger he’d put under his pillow was on the ground with the leather strap for his hair. Damn it, wonderful, he thought.

“I bet you bottom for all those males you’ve been with,” Azriel growled into his ear while yanking his head back more. Eris snarled, attempting to turn around and punch the male on top of him.

“Get the fuck off of me,” Eris growled.

“What a brat,” Azriel chuckled, and released him. Eris immediately turned and tried to leap at the Illyrian. Azriel grabbed both of his forearms to pin him on his back now.

“You’re annoying,” Azriel mused. “Can’t you just relax?”

“You’re the one who cuddled me in your sleep!” Eris accused.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “We cuddled with each other, get over it. Or have you managed that little contact with others that cuddling is a foreign concept?”

“As if the spymaster of the Night Court is any better,” Eris grit out, attempting to get his knee up to get Azriel between his legs. A dirty trick, but he needed the male off of him before he did something very impulsive.

“I’ll have you know, I have managed to find people to warm my bed. Unlike you apparently. Are you that poor at flirting?”

He most definitely was not. He just didn’t want his damned father to get any stupid ideas from the rumors.

“Tell me,” Azriel said with a deep tone sending a flicker of arousal up his spine. “Are you the one getting flirted on?”

“No,” Eris growled.

Azriel smirked. “You’re cute.”

Eris blinked in surprise. Even the shadowsinger himself seemed surprised by the words that’d escaped him. He swallowed, suddenly feeling the hands holding his forearms a bit too much and the muscled body holding him down. He gritted his teeth to try and control himself and his scent.

Azriel’s face widened into a smirk. “You’re a pretty little liar aren’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up and let me up,” Eris snarled. “Or I’ll burn you.” He let a little fire flare at his fingertips.

Azriel regarded the flame with a bit of nervousness before looking at Eris. “I’m afraid that’d be failing the little bargain you have with the Night Court. You kill me, you can’t kill your dear old father.”

“I most certainly can-”

“Just shut up,” Azriel growled. “I can smell you, you know.”

Eris blanched, his face becoming an even lighter shade than it was.

“You know,” Azriel hummed, “It might not be known, but I’m quite into males myself.”

Eris’s lips thinned as he stared up at Azriel.

Something in the air seemed to snap and Azriel leaned down, pushing his lips onto Eris’s forcefully.

Eris didn’t fight it and instead relaxed, closing his eyes as he groaned into the kiss.

Fucking hell, he thought. What an interesting beginning of the day.

Azriel brushed his tongue along the seam of Eris’s lips and he readily opened them.

Azriel pulled away with a wide smirk. And that smile was the end of Eris’s impulse control.

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TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

Tagged in all ACOTAR Stories: @bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess,

Tagged in all Azriel Stories: @ladylokilaufeyson5, @marina468,

(please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged in Azris Week or if you'd like to be tagged!!)

also, day 3 will be skipped due to the fact it hated being written :)

#azrisweek2023 #azris supremacy #azris #azriel #eris vanserra #azriel x eris #eris x azriel #eris acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic

[azsazz]

What You Made Me

Cassian x Reader

Summary: You (an Archeron sister) have been acting up ever since you were dunked into that cauldron. Rhys’ idea of getting you to behave is to send you to an Illyrian war camp. Alone.

Warnings: Trauma. Illyrian war camp. Branding. Abuse.

Word Count: 1,968

Notes: This is actually just really sad. Idk what came over me.

_________________________________________

Inhale, strike, exhale, draw your arm back into ready position, inhale, strike, exhale, repeat. You wipe the sweat from your brow after a particularly nasty punch to the wooden pole in the center of the training ring. The wood is worn and dented, years of members of the Inner Circle taking their frustrations out on it. You were no different, you supposed, although you didn’t feel like a part of that close knit group.

Not after you’d been sent away by your sister and her mate, crowned Night Court royalty, for acting up. While Nesta was drinking and fucking her way through Velaris, you were wreaking havoc in your own way, picking fights at bars and taking the males home after.

But while your older sister was punished by staying in the lavish House of Wind, you were sent away to Windhaven, the very Illyrian camp where the High Lord and his brothers had been raised. 

And it was for that very reason that you were treated horribly. Being the sister of the new High Lady and High Lord, paired with the fact that you were a female, did not bode well for you during your time at the warcamp.

You can still remember the day you’d been dropped off, Rhysands arm wrapped tightly around yours as you struggled against his grip, both Azriel and Cassian accompanying the two of you.

The bitter cold bit into your inappropriately dressed body, the wind slapping your unbound hair into your face, stinging like that of a whip. Rhysand released you at the same time you pulled away, throwing your balance off as you tumbled into the icy snow beneath your feet.

You glared up at the High Lord with venom in your gaze but the male only smirked, looking down at you from the tip of his nose.

You’d fight him if you could, but you know that with only a flick of his wrist he could have you dead.

Not that he would do that to Feyre. He could easily tell her that you’ve been mauled to death by a creature in the forest. Winnow you out somewhere no one knows and leave you with nothing but yourself. You might prefer that.

But he didn’t know you. None of them knew the kind of power you were gifted from the Cauldron that fateful night. They weren’t aware that while they had all been playing house, having dinners, convincing the city that everything was alright, you were holed up in your apartment across town, honing your skills. 

You could materialize items at your will, much like the Rhysand. It was something that you kept to yourself, often creating drink from nothing before you’d go out and see what males lured you into a brawl at any of the few seedy bars of Velaris.

Your powers rivaled his, you could feel it, deep within your soul. Yet you couldn’t tell anyone, trust any of them enough with your abilities to keep them a secret. 

You wondered if Rhys knew, had an inkling as to what your capabilities are, if he felt threatened by you, or if he was just being his prick self as he told the Lord of the camp that you were here for training.

Lord Devlon looked about as enthused at the situation as you were, sneering down at you and eyeing you like the filth that he thought the High Lord was. Another made, another one of the High Lady’s sisters, another female begging to be put in her place.

You refused to look at any of the males that had brought you here, even though you could feel Cassian’s eyes burning holes into the side of your head. They weren’t there long, but their presence had all of the other Illyrians on edge, and as soon as they winnowed away, their hatred was turned on you.

They’d quite literally beat the defiance out of you.

Training. Devlon had promised his High Lord, a cruel smile on his lips. It had been a lie that you had all seen through, and no one had spoken up.

There were no teachers. No one to show you the correct form of punching, the different styles of combat. You had to learn yourself, quickly, thrown into the ring to get beaten down, not an ounce of training until you could get up and hold your own against your opponents – usually a male twice your size with a knack for hitting females.

Bruises on top of bruises, all over your body, each day a new set. You aren’t even sure you know the color of your skin any longer, with the harsh winter winds paling you out and the mirage of purples, yellows, and greens adorning your skin.

If you slipped up it was hundreds of push ups, or sit ups, or lunges, until your body could no longer physically hold you up. Then they hauled you to your feet by the scruff of your neck and forced you to do more.

They’d forced you to stay awake for days, enduring the torture that they only wish they could inflict on the High Lord and his brothers.

And they loved a female who they could fuck just as much as they could fight.

“(Y/N).”

You’d been forced to train in the freezing cold waters of the river that flowed by camp. In the middle of winter half naked, you stood, unable to feel your feet, as you readied for your attacker. Hands balled into fists, muscles coiled so tightly that it hurt, teeth chattering so loudly you could barely hear Devlon announce the beginning of the fight.

Wading through the thigh-deep water you cursed, breath coming out like smoke in the cold. The male across from you watched with a wicked grin, creating distance between the two of you easily, as the water only reached under his knees.

You’d have to be smarter if you could not be quicker.

But you weren’t fast enough. One swipe of his legs had you in the river, the iciness of it shocking you. You gasped for a breath but took in water instead, choking on it as you tried to regain your footing.

As soon as you had broken the surface a fist connected with your jaw so hard you saw the night sky of Velaris as you careened backwards into the river once more. This time, you weren’t able to rise, as the male partnered against you straddled you in the water, a thick hand around your neck, holding you under.

You didn’t remember getting out of that one.

You probably didn’t want to.

“(Y/N).”

You learned form quickly after that, punished for each slightly misplaced fist, crooked elbow, if you shifted your balance too far on one foot.

Again and again and again you trained until your mind was no longer your own. Until all you could hear were the brutal orders barked at you even when no one was around.

“(Y/N)!”

You’re so focused you don’t hear anyone calling your name. Your wrist aches but you ignore it, honing the uncomfort into the next swing, the strike jarring your bones.

You’d been back for three days and yet you hadn’t seen much of anyone.

You trained at night when no one was around.

Azriel joined you sometimes, and the thing you loved about the male was that he didn’t bother you if you didn’t bother him. He wouldn’t say a single word to a soul if you didn’t want him to.

Whoever it is grabs your arm and it’s instinct to swing at them. It’s what they’d pounded into your head, your soul no longer your own, just another Illyrian brute taking orders from a dim witted general, with no thoughts of their own.

“What am I doing here?” you yell, spinning around on your heel, planting your other foot and following through on your punch. Cassian – trained in the art of hand-to-hand combat himself – is able to jump right into action, hand raised, blocking your punch. The smack of your knuckles on his skin is loud, echoing across the open training ring.

“What do you mean?” he grunts out the question, dodging your onslaught of jabs with ease. You had certainly gotten stronger, the warlord would give you that.

“Why. Am. I. Back. Here.” Each word is separated by your attack. It’s frustrating, being on the losing side of a fight once again. You had trained long and hard, finally starting to beat some of the males in the camp when Rhysand had come to pick you up. Long months had gone by with no sign of your family while you were away. You expected them to be playing house just as they wanted, having finally gotten rid of you.

“You’re home,” Cassian catches your wrist in one hand, his hazel eyes pleading for you to stop. To stop fighting him. He was your friend.

Was. You grit your teeth, using your power to materialize a long sword in your free hand. You watch his eyes widen in disbelief, his grip loosening on you, enough for you to slip out and raise the weapon over your head with both of your hands.

He jumps back as you swing down, the tip of the sword landing in the soft sand beneath your feet. You growl, eyes cutting to him. 

And he can’t believe it. The lost little girl whom they’d seen dipped into that Cauldron with powers all her own, so angry and hurt and betrayed by all of them, ready to cleave him in two with the sword she’d created out of nothing.

“This is not my home,” you hiss, taking a step closer for every step he takes back, the tip of your weapon dragging in the sand behind you.

He doesn’t want to fight you, no, his heart aches for you. This wasn’t the right choice, he should have never let Rhys talk him into this. But it was too late now.

“Who are you?” It slips out of his mouth as you bring the saber into a ready position once more, eyes wide with bloodlust. His words strike you, face crumpling for a moment but you’re turning away from him just as quickly, weapon vanishing into the thin air it was created from.

“I am what you made me,” and it’s the first time that he’s heard genuine emotion in your voice, the fear, the hurt, because of him.

Cassian calls your name one more time, goes to grab your shoulder but you jerk away from his touch, your flimsy and worn shirt splitting at the seams. His gasp is audible as you hold back your cry of pain from his fingertips across the freshly healed wound.

You can feel the brand like the searing hot poker was still burning into your flesh, the laughing of the males as Devlon watched, having announced that the High Lord was to retrieve you later in the day. He’d smirked at you and they called you names, utter and hatred in the words they spat.

“(Y/N)–”

“What? You didn’t hear? They brand their females now and clip their wings,” you spit, clutching at the fabric to try and cover the mark. Your stomach is in your throat and you feel like you need a drink and a good bar brawl, just like old times.

But instead you turn to retreat into the house, your steps faltering when he utters, “I’m sorry.”

And his apology doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t fix you and your fucked up mind, the fact the you don’t know who you even are anymore or where you belong. No, it doesn’t do shit. Words don’t mean a damn thing.

So you keep walking.

#cassian/reader #cassian #cassian x reader #acomaf #acowar #acotar #azsazz

[goddessofwisdom18]

your favorite character being largely disliked by both the stans and the antis is actually so devastating. where am i supposed to go

there are three main opinions about mor in this fandom:

1. she’s fine bc she’s feyre’s bestie but you don’t really care about her personally (probably bc she’s queer because the stan girlies used to LOVE mor when moriel was semi-canon. i remember. i was there)

2. she’s fine but annoying bc she ~lead azriel on~ (main opinion on the acotar subreddit). never mind that if this was true, it would be as a result of a retcon, because again, pre acowar, moriel was going to be canon. sarah made mor sapphic because we were asking for more lgbt characters. (again. i was there.) and besides, i frankly don't think it is true, because azriel is the fucking spymaster with a million chances of knowledge at his fingertips and mor spent 80% of her time at a gay bar so idk how he couldn't have fucking known?

3. or she’s the fucking worst because she was. idk. mean to nesta. you know who else was mean??? and people love that about her because it's a result of trauma, it makes her flawed and relatable? literally nesta T_T this is not anti nesta i just don’t get it.

4. she's the fucking worst because she… supposedly lied about eris? ?? i'm not even going to begin to unpack this. why y'all IMMEDIATELY take the man's side and think what he's saying is bible… i don't fucking know. learn to decenter men in your life my friend. sometimes women ARE telling the truth even if they're basic or pick mes or whatever.

mor’s traumatized as hell and definitely has as much to back up her occasional cattiness as nesta had to back up her literal life long bullying. but few people will give her a feminist reading. few people will analyze how sarah wrote her story or what that means. few people will even give her credit as a real villain. she’s just an annoying pick-me bitch and that’s the end of it.

think about the lack of grace rhysand gives nesta. think about what that might mean for mor, to whom rhys (and his friends) was a sort of savior, because her life in the hewn city was that bad that somehow dealing with rhysand is better. that was who she grew up with; that was what she was taught to see as good because at least it wasn’t keir.

not to mention that her life is shaped around her survival via her desirability to males. ESPECIALLY as a sapphic woman can you imagine what that would do to her psyche?

but no. no fan posts about her. no headcanons. nothing nada. just me and the mor week posts and the occasional obligatory stan reference bc she's part of the main cast.

i understand being annoyed bc of the double standard in canon between her and nesta's heavy drinking, but even then i see posts all the time about "i would love rhys if it weren't for the narrative's worship of him!" and none for mor because she's just a ghost. she's nothing to anybody. despite being A MAIN CHARACTER!

not to mention but like. generally positioning yourself perpetually in opposition to the paradigm rather than just having values whether they're popular or not is not a great way to go about things. i completely understand liking eris regardless of what he's done - i am a tamlin stan despite the fact that he was very well abusive in acomaf - but the fact that there are antis out there who are so convinced mor is lying, or who want sarah to write that storyline, is so digusting to me. women in groups you don't like, political sides you don't like, women you think are annoying - they still deserved to be believed. don't give into respectability politics. come on now.

#im sorry i know this is so stupid #i just like. im so tired. #i've literally loved her since acomaf came out and as much as i was upset about the way sarah handled her coming out i was sooo happy she #was sapphic bc i'm bi and she was already my fave! so like! omfg! #but there is no content out there for her and it drives me insane. i feel so lonely. #morrigan #pro mor #pro morrigan #sjm critical #anti sjm #anti eris #pro inner circle

[decadentpostnacho]

Hey I just want to let you know I’m a big fan of A Court of Crimson Flame. What I find disappointing in ACOTARs fandom content is that a majority of the fanfics seem to always have OCs that want to be close to the IC and idolize them. I like the ACOTAR world and there are interesting characters. I just could never get behind night court (especially after seeing how the Illyrian and hewn city situations are addressed in canon) also I feel there are too few fics where there is valid criticism brought up towards the inner circle. It doesn’t mean pick on night court like some might suggest. But I feel no court or ruler should be exempt from constructive criticism. Which is why I like Kyara. She loves her sisters and we’ve seen her loyalty is to them first because family over everything. But she’s slowly realizing how feyre is changing and almost becoming an extension of Rhys. It’s hard to talk to her sister if she has to worry about Rhysand eavesdropping. The high lord meeting was an excellent example of the ic not knowing what to do with kyara but feel they must include her cause that’s feyres sister. Kyara was fine not attending and why ask her to come if they were gonna bring nesta anyway? Feyre could have easily had a conversation with her sister. It seems they want to keep the sisters close for feyres comfort but just because they’re feyres friends doesn’t mean they need to be the sisters friends. I’m not sure how Kyara will feel about feyre saying they’re one big happy family. I was never sure how the other Archeron sisters felt about now needing to share family time with the inner circle. It felt suffocation to me. I’m looking forward to what you have in store for us !

I seriously think I'm gonna cry haha

You are too sweet anon, thank you <3

I share your opinion, totally. The Ic is being placed on a pedestal and I will not stand for it. I see so many problems with them, have seen since Acomaf actually. (which are to blame on Sarah Janet, I'm sorry not)

I just said it today, I'd rather have a bunch of good written morally gray characters or even villains than attempted storybook heroes who are absolute imbeciles and abusers. That's it.

And I am saying this as someone who has a bunch of problematic favs, so I'm not trying to shame anyone here.

I'm gonna take Rhysand as an example to show you what I mean.

He's supposed to be this feminist king, who has built a library as a sanctuary for victims of SA, for them to peacefully work and live their lives, and there are no men allowed in if the women don't want them there - except for Rhysand himself. And what does he do? He takes advantage of this and attempts to dance the devils tango with his mate, in the library which is, and I repeat it, full of SA victims, and some of them have not spoken in years/are deeply traumatized. He doesn't pay any mind to how they might react, because he doesn't care and he knows that they couldn't do anything against it, because he is their High Lord.

This is one of the maaaany problems I noticed. So, when this idea came to my mind, I knew that I wanted to address as many of this problems as I could, to make them visible.

I wanted Kyara to be someone with common sense, that's it, and I hope I managed that. Her sisters are important, because..family, although they won't be holding her back in the end. She'll still see how Feyre is changing, as you said, and also what happens to Nesta (and she won't be quiet about Nesta, that's all I will say for now.) and how Elain adapts, which is about the only positive thing. The issue of Rhysand eavesdropping/always somehow being there is going to be addressed directly in the future, without wanting to spoil too much.

Kyara will definitely not think of the Ic as her family. As you said, they took her with them to things like the HL meeting, but what for? In the end, none of them really listens to her, and no one's really interested in her, or goes out of their way to interact with her except for maybe her sisters, so why would they be her family?

If you made it to the end (which is here), one last thing: We are not going to stay in the Night Court. I think that this was forseeable, but I am excited about it, because we've seen enough of Night.

[nestable]

Feminism in ACOTAR

(This is a bit long so bare with me)

As a politics student and general member of the public who's curious about feminist themes, I've read a lot of feminist writings which have informed my opinion in saying that none of the acotar books can be described as feminist.

I've noticed that the big motivator behind describing the books as feminist is feyres appointment of High lady. Though that may be pivotal in prythian history, we cant ignore the fact that it is still a fairly patriachal society. Having a few women in places of power like mor, amren, feyre etc. Is not enough because women don't grow up on an island and are also influenced by patriachal views or mindsets. In short, just because someone is a woman and is in a position of power, doesnt mean that they will cater to the needs of women or are feminist. Women, especially white women(this is important because sjms writes white feminism) have often gotten into positions of power and actually ignored women and done the same that their male predecessors have done and often threw other women under the bus in order to retain their tokenism status. And the main flaw of white feminism which is the reason why it coined the term 'white feminism' is that it doesnt encompass all the intersectionalities that women reside in and only focus on a western model of what it means to be a woman and anything outside of that is backward and 'barbaric. We see this in the judgement and disregarding of POC's experiences and outlooks on life because they are different to theirs. There are more than enough examples of the white women in the series judging the illyrians which are seen by the fandom as POC's and how they maliciously drag their customs through the mud. Instead of getting these views from illyrian women themselves, we get them from white women who arent connected to that culture whatsoever and who have nothing to say except judgement and critique instead of actually helping.

We see this with the white characters views of illyrian cultures and their conclusion of the condition of women without even having a single conversation with illyrian women. Illyrian women in this set up have no agency and no voice and that leaves the women of the IC to speak for them which is counterproductive. This is wrong in that many western cultures have misinterpreted different cultures and ignored the women in those societies as being disenfranchised and have used this as an excuse to invade and colonize under the guise of liberating women when in actual fact they dont care about the women at all, and are only concerned in reaping the benefits of that culture and keeping them under their control. An example of this is rhys ignoring the treatment of illyrian women but reaping the benefit of having illyrians fight in his wars.

Feyre as high lady

It's unfair to judge feyres actions as high lady as yet because we've barely seen her act, but from the little that we know, she follows Rhys' every action and decision without question. And rhys hasn't done anything for the improvement of women's position socially or economically at all (we all know the state of the illyrian camps) in all the 500 yrs he's been high lord. Apart from Rhys, the inner circle has 2 women in the highest leadership positions and even they havent done anything and have even ignored the plight of women under their jurisdiction, (mor with Hewn city) I dont even think amren cares about anything besides her jewels tbh. So it's fair to assume that feyre will follow in those very footsteps. She already has biased and low views on the illyrians and people who reside in hewn city to the point where she participates in the 'pimp and whore' act that she puts on t deal with them. And we've never seen her speak to illyrian women so to her their voices and autonomy dont matter.

Male feminism in the IC

The only male who can be seen as being feminist in the series is Cassian because aside from simply declaring that wing clipping is illegal, he actually does the ground work to ensure it doesn't happen by offering the women to train with him. Though this is a weak cure for the issues the women face in Illyria, it's a start and far more work than anything the other characters have done in the name of women empowerment.

Another so called feminist figure in the series is rhysand. Why he's described as such defeats me, but I'll go through some points to prove that hes nothing of the sort.

1. He created a library for sexual assault survivors.

Though this is a nice effort, it can't be described as feminism because he doesnt extend the same courtesy to the other women in his territory and is only concerned with women in Velaris. Supporting women who worship you isnt feminism isnt feminism either and we know that the entirety of Velaris see the IC as blameless gods. Based on mors history, its obvious that the women in hewn city are suffering just as much if not more but hes forsaken them to live under mors parents/abusers rule. And creating a safe house for sexual assault survivors isnt as much feminism as it is human decency. Especially considering how much money hes got.

2. Banning illyrian wing clipping

Wing clipping is still a pandemic in the illyrian camps meaning that he didnt put enough provisions to ensure that it stops. Passing a law and ensuring that it is followed are two different things and rhys clearly dowsnt know the distinction. An additional point regarding illyrian women is that it was mentioned in acofas that they were joining the men in rebelling, and if that doesnt say anything about their feelings with him being high lord and how he doesnt cater to them, then I dont know what does. This also speaks to the point of the assumption that women of color dont have agency in their own societies. He said something like the men 'manipulated' the women into joining their rebellion, which insinuates that they can't think for themselves and are completely voiceless and this is a factor of whit feminism, the belief that WOC colour cant speak for themselves and are meek and susetable to being controlled or manipulated. It is a huge possibility that the women can't really express their opinions because they are suppressed by their men, however we dont see rhys interacting with any women and getting their opinion on things. He assumes that they are forced into everything and though we havent gotten the book yet I'm gonna say this is false. The reason being if rhys was such a good high lord and cared for women's issues, why would the women side with their 'abusive' men instead of their so called benevolent high lord?

3. Rhys appointed women in his IC

First of all, appointing women based on merit and qualifications is feminism, not appointing family members and you underaged bride just because 'you love her'. Though mor and amren may be qualified, and that's a massive 'maybe', they haven't done anything to improve the lives of women. Like their high lord they are complacent and Hewn city and illyria are more than enough to prove this. What rhys has essentially done is nepotism and corruption and no one can convince me otherwise.

Going further on the inner circle women, rhys was willing to sacrifice these very women to achieve his goal and this is self serving and anti feminist. The first being abusing feyre UTM and then using her as bait for the attor, then later making a deal with eris even though he knows his history with mor. If anyone believes that these actions are remotely feminist or excusable, then feminism is not for you and need help because its abusive and patriachal.

In conclusion rhys isnt feminist, mor isnt feminist, amren isnt feminist, feyre isnt feminist, azriel isnt even in the conversation and cassian is the only one scratching the surface. Also, white feminism is an exclusive and limited way to portray and execute feminism, women getting leadership positions based on their proximity to men just advances the false notion that women can only succeed if they 'sleep' their way to the top and just because a woman is in a leadership space, thag doesnt make that state of affairs inherently feminist because women are also carriers of patriarchy.

I tried to sum up my points but for more on white feminism, feminist intersectionalites and how being female doesnt make a person feminist, I advice you read Bell Hooks' writings because she touches on these topics in far better ways than I can.

#acotar #acowar #acomaf #anti inner circle #anti rhysand #anti feyre #my take on feminism #stop caling female representation feminism #anti sjm #sjm critical

[sweetbitterimpossiblecreature]

Feysand: An Objective Perspective

Is Rhysand An Abuser?

First, if we mean to be objective, we must use an objective classification. What is domestic abuse? According to facs.nsw.gov.au, “It’s when there is violent, abusive or bullying behaviour or actions towards a partner or former partner to scare and control them. It can happen at home or outside the home. It causes fear and harm to the body, mind and spirit.”

The Domestic Abuse Hotline also has this to say: “Domestic violence (also referred to as intimate partner violence (IPV), dating abuse, or relationship abuse) is a pattern of behaviors used by one partner to maintain power and control over another partner in an intimate relationship.”

Hopefully, we can agree on those two definitions. Now, does Rhysand demonstrate “violent, abusive or bullying behaviour”? Do his actions fall into “a pattern of behaviors used by one partner to maintain power and control”?

The simple answer: it’s complicated. Because of the way Sarah J. Maas has written this series, Rhysand is The Ultimate Man Male. He can essentially do no wrong. Any bad behavior is swept under the guise of his “mask”- i.e., the scene in the Court of Nightmares. Or, if he hurts her, it is brushed off as for her own good- like the time Under The Mountain. This makes it difficult to figure out whether or not he is an abuser, or whether he’s just… like that. In order to understand this, I’m going to give a few examples of things that Tamlin, the known abuser of the series, has done to Feyre.

He infringed on her autonomy by preventing her from leaving the house, thereby limiting her rights.

He lost his temper and exploded a room with her inside of it, thereby putting her in danger.

Let’s look at examples of Rhysand, and what I believe to be some MAJOR red flags.

He purposefully does not tell her about vital information to do with her pregnancy. She almost dies because of this. This omission of information, to me, demonstrated a very clear lack of respect. Maybe, if she had known that there was a possibility she could die, she would have chosen to have an abortion- or, if he had told her beforehand, when she gave him her xmas present, she might not have chosen to have a baby at all. I don’t want to make this a pro-choice issue… but at some level, it is.

He sends her to the home of a cannibalistic, highly dangerous, ancient, powerful, vicious being to get a piece of jewelry, thereby putting her in a massive amount of danger. I cannot emphasize this enough. Putting someone in a situation where they could be eaten alive does not demonstrate your respect for them. I know Maas was trying to write him as a Sexy Consent King, like “hey babe i respect u SO much i’m going to send you to a monster’s lair because I TRUST YOUR aBILITIES BABE”, but… no. No.

Under The Mountain, he drugs her and puts her on his lap, thereby limiting her rights. Not even going to bother to elaborate. Y’all know this by heart.

In conclusion: It isn’t black and white. I believe he positions himself as the king of consent and giving her choices while maneuvering it so that she has less and less choices as they go along (i.e. him not telling her about the crucial pregnancy info), which definitely qualifies as abusive behavior. But someone else might see it differently. From my perspective, it is abuse. But because I swore this was going to be objective, I’m going to say my final answer is: think about it.

On The Issue Of Rhysand And “Consent”

Again, for the people in the back: Putting someone in a situation where they could be eaten alive does not demonstrate your respect for them. Here’s a post that talks about consent much better than I could. In her words, “idolizing consent over lives” is dangerous, harmful, and very real. Do NOT blindly regurgitate every *woke* maxim on consent that you read! Let’s not, as a society, get to a point where it’s like: “Do I have your consent to pour this drink over your head because you said something beyond offensive about my ethnicity?” or “Do I have your consent to take away your car keys so you won’t drive drunk and possible harm others/yourself?” Trust your gut.

How does this relate to Rhysand? Well, first of all, he undeniably puts her in danger. This is justified by the contrast between him and Tamlin. Maas essentially is telling us that Tamlin limits her by keeping her out of danger, and Rhysand empowers her by giving her access to danger. And it’s very easy to get caught in the undertow of this strange logic. Believe me, it is. When I first read the ACOTAR series, I was jiving along with all of your Fuck Tamlin Let Him Die playlists. But here’s a radical idea: imperilment is not a love language. I am not saying that Tamlin was a better option. I am saying that it is possible to respect someone and their right to their own decisions without putting them in danger.

On Making Her High Lady

While it’s fucked up that before Feyre, there were no High Ladies, Feyre incontrovertibly should not be High Lady. Why? Because in fae terms, she is an infant. She learned to read a few years ago. (I am not ridiculing her for her illiteracy, because I understand that the circumstances in which she grew up did not allow for a literate education. That is completely understandable! However, what is not understandable is putting this woman into a position of staggering political power. Learning to read a few years ago means that her comprehension rate is likely a lot lower than the average Velaris citizen. It is… not good for the ruler of a territory to be less capable than the average citizen. This would be like if the president didn’t have a high school diploma.). She has no knowledge of the political landscape. She does not understand etiquette (i.e. her physically attacking someone because of an insult, although to be 100% fair, Rhysand did the same.)

Hey, Feyre! Someone slut-shaming your mate for sleeping with Fae Hitler is not grounds for murder! In ordinary life, it would be grounds for slapping him in the face or something similar, but YOU ARE TRYING TO HAVE A CRISIS COMMITTEE BETWEEN TERRITORIES, WHICH HAS THE POTENTIAL TO SAVE THOUSANDS OF LIVES. An inability to sacrifice one’s ego, even at the potential loss of life, is a worrying characteristic in a ruler.

In Conclusion:

Feyre is not unproblematic when one looks at her decisions as a whole. While the narrative positions events so that they all turn out in her favor, as one would expect given that authors not only write character but plots, in a real-life situation - or just a more realistic plot - her actions would harm many, many people. Rhysand’s behavior towards Feyre is worrying as well, and objectively I think it’s fair to say qualify as signs, if not absolute empirical evidence of abuse.

#meta #my post #sjm critical #anti sjm #acomaf #anti acomaf #acowar #anti acowar #acosf #anti acosf #acotar critical #anti acotar #acosaf #anti acosaf

[feysandandnyx]

You can say what you want, but Feyre will always be better than your sisters, starting with the fact that if Feyre hadn't forgiven you, you wouldn't have a book of your favorite to piss off. Preferring something is really subjective, you don't have to like a character even though he is the main character in the book. I've liked a lot of backers, Feyre is an exception and I've liked a lot of defective characters, I have no problem with that. But I never romanticized Nesta. I admit that she did some positive things, but I always found this badly built, as if Sarah didn’t know what to do with it. And honestly, if you think this character is complex you urgently need to expand your reading skills. She may be a different character, but to say that Nesta is complex in the first place is wanting to not recognize how abusive she was to Feyre, something that Sarah herself seems to have backed off in the end. Nesta's relationship with Feyre was not just a fight between sisters.

Nesta left a negative mark on Feyre that even the Feyre fighter needs to overcome. When you feel humiliated by someone to the point that it makes you feel less important, then we are not talking about a healthy relationship. Most cases of abuse occur among family members. So I will always say that Feyre would be more than justified in not wanting anything more with his sisters. Is Feyre a perfect character? No. She is far from being. But she is not obliged. It shouldn't be. She should not be forced to forgive people who have always taken good advantage of her and who have never done anything for her. The fact that Elain and Nesta helped in the war is a good thing, but the war was everyone's duty. They could have refused and died in the end. And it is necessary to highlight the role of Elain here, because if it weren't for Elain, Nesta would not have accepted to help Feyre even knowing what that meant. So I'm going to go back to my point to justify why I think Nesta is a character who actually suffers from a bad build and that Sarah tried to save at any cost in the end.

1- She spent the whole life sitting, 10 years, hating Feyre and waiting for her father to do something. But the narrative itself states that her father was crippled and that he developed some kind of trauma that made him apathetic. So, why do you expect such a person to go into a forest to hunt? Could he have tried other things? Yes. But you should also understand that it was limited.

2 - She lived with Feyre for 10 years without realizing that Feyre did not know how to read, but calling her ignorant and savage. How's that? You are built as a character who likes to read. Do you have a sensitivity for that and you didn't understand the basics? How old was Feyre when you were poor? How many years was your education considered complete and satisfactory when you were a few years older? Justifying that you didn't notice it to make you look better had the opposite effect, as it only showed how negligent you were. You weren't obliged to teach Feyre how to read, but you at least could have realized that she couldn't. She would have shown that at least you cared. It wasn't months or years of poverty, it was a decade. So you spent years calling Feyre ignorant and filthy and you never realized how bad she felt about it? So you are so good at discovering people's weaknesses and using it against them?

3 - Elain tries to justify the way she and Nesta were negligent with Feyre with: we had no skills and we didn't receive adequate training just for us to find out in addition that Feyre taught Nessa how to use a bow and even then she didn't move.

4 - it is useless to want to justify that the three were children. They were, in fact, the fault of the father of the three, but as I already pointed out, not without a reason. However, you and I know that Nesta's characterization would take you to that forest if it were for Elain. There would be no age, his mother's shadow or his father's hatred. She would have gone. She always prioritized Elain, including leaving Feyre alone with her father while he was assaulted and she hid with Elain

5 - Repentance? do not. She spent the rest of the years hating Feyre and spending her money on ribbons and boots she didn't need, again ignoring the rags her sister wore. And the narrative implied that Feyre really tried to argue about that, but her opinion didn't matter, there was always an urgency between Elain and Nesta for their futility to be attended to

6 - Don't try to discredit Feyre's point of view about Nesta when you are the first to isolate the positive points that Feyre spoke about his sister, for why show how much "complex" Nesta is

7 - Nesta's justification for Feyre about spending her money (stealing Feyre), was that she knew Feyre could get more. Nesta completely ignores how Feyre needed to risk his life in the forest every time she felt she could spend her money on new boots because "Feyre could get more". And how were you upset with her to the point of treating her badly because she was doing something when her father didn't and at the same time you stole her because you knew she would get more ?????

8 - It is sad to know that Feyre always needs to die or be kidnapped in order for Nesta to show how he feels about her;

9 - Feyre never did anything to make Nesta hate her other than being a better person than she is, even though Nesta feels entitled to hate her;

10 - Feyre is not to blame for Nesta's problems and failures, yet Nesta always finds a way to hurt her because she is angry with other people. She did this for 10 years while feeling angry at her father, she did it by telling about Feyre's risk of pregnancy in the most irresponsible way possible just because she was angry with Amaren. Don't come to me to say that she was concerned for Feyre's well being because she wasn't. If she had really been worried, she would have called Feyre for a chat and would have told her. But she just agreed with Rhysand and left the responsibility to save and support Feyre in his hands. Then she only remembered the danger that Feyre was in to destroy her relationship with Rhysand and Amaren. Seriously, your sister's pregnancy was risky and you couldn't think that she could have fallen dead right there just for you to have your victory over Amaren;

11- "You chose Feyre" Seriously Nesta, how dare you?

12 - It is very easy to build a character like Nesta and then resort to trauma to try to justify her and awaken the empathy of the reader. We got to the point that if we don't like Nesta, we are called misogynists and insensitive. However, before being abused, Nesta was abusive. Her mother was never an obstacle to protect Elain. So her mom is not a good excuse to try to explain why she never did anything for Feyre. Her attempted sexual assault does not give her the right to use people's trauma against them, as she does with Cassian. In fact, she always did this to Feyre before Thomas, Sarah just justified it with "I didn't really know that you couldn't read". Pathetic.

13- in most parts of acosf I couldn't say whether Nesta had a trauma to be cured by her father that she always mistreated for "being sick and traumatized" or if she was just a spoiled and selfish person who resented Feyre's happiness. I'm still confused;

14 - Sarah gave her impossible powers that she clearly didn't know how to develop. What was Nesta after all? A witch? A puppet of the Mother or death incarnate? I am confused about what her powers really were and I was not surprised by the lazy resolution that Sarah invented to get rid of them. I think we all agree that Feyre's pregnancy plot line didn't need to be there or it could have been developed without us having to see Feyre dying again. What a "creative".

I don't think Nesta is a bad character, I just think she is badly built because all of her justifications for behaving in a certain way are not satisfactory or open up holes in the narrative (her relationship with Elain is an example).

To make up for these construction flaws, Sarah tried to justify Nesta out of emotional issues. Establishing a toxic relationship with your mother in the past, an attempted sexual assault in the not-so-distant past, and the recent trauma caused by your father's death. Behind Nesta's decisions, there is always a purely emotional issue and that, in my view, takes away the complexity of the character.

She would be complex if she just admitted that and she was wrong and that was okay. Nobody is perfect. I got to see a good progression from Nesta to book 3 and I was fine with that. I thought that her whole issue with her father was worse than positive. But I think Sarah understands what Nesta was (abusive) and she wanted to ensure that she would be understood by opening up all of her feelings. I think it worked for some and for others it didn't. I found it appealing. I still don't like her, but I'm glad she is no longer allowed to be toxic. But for me she just needed to really explain herself and apologize to Feyre. I never thought Nesta really hated Feyre. The problem was not whether Nesta loved her or not, but the years when she was abusive to Feyre. She should have just recognized what it was and apologized for it.

#anti nesta stans #anti nesta archeron #anti nesta

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {20}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 3.0k

A/N: More fluff? “But, Tara, that’s so out of character for you.” “But, Tara, what ever happened with Tamlin?” “TARA WHY IS EVERYTHING GOING SO WELL” solid questions......

You are the first dream, the only dream I ever was unable to stop myself from dreaming. You are the first dream of my soul, and from that dream I hope will come all other dreams, a lifetime’s worth. - Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

“Show me!” Feyre called, yelling behind the velvet curtain. Mor was trying on bridesmaid dress after bridesmaid dress, giving Feyre her own personal runway show.

Which she deserved. She was the bride-to-be, after all.

“Alright, okay,” Mor muttered from inside of the dressing room. “This one has a low back and a high neckline. And, I must say, my ass looks fantastic.”

Feyre laughed but that laughter faded once Mor came out, because she was right - she looked stunning. It hugged her body without being too risque and the deep, lavender color suited her perfectly.

“I love that,” Feyre said, eyes wide. “It’s perfect. Even the color. That’s our color. That’s your dress. You’re getting that.”

“Am I?” Mor asked.

“Yes, and if you don’t, I’m kicking you out of the bridal party.”

Mor snorted. “Fine. I accept. Now, I’m making you try on dresses.”

“My sisters should be here,” Feyre said, just as she had every other time Mor had suggested otherwise.

“You don’t have to get one today,” Mor said. “Please? Just try on a few then we can go get lunch.”

“Fine,” Feyre groaned, hopping up from the couch she was sitting on. 

The owner of the boutique came over and helped Feyre into a room before Mor, now changed into her shorts and tank top, went crazy, bringing her a handful of dresses.

“Take your time,” Mor called, closing the curtain behind her. “I’ll be sitting right out here, let me know if you need help.”

Feyre sighed, taking in the line up of dresses before her. At first, she slipped on a ballgown, but the moment she stepped out of the dressing room and looked into the mirror, she wanted to yank it off her body and burn it. Too puffy, too frilly. She felt like she was going to prom - been there, done that. She went through two more that even Mor had cringed at before setting her eyes on a slim fit, beaded gown with an open back and a low, sweetheart neckline. It had thin straps and a long, beautiful lace train. 

Feyre slipped it on.

She stepped out of her dressing room and looked into the mirror.

Mor gasped, eyes lined with tears.

“Feyre,” she breathed.

“I know,” Feyre said, shaking her head. “Damn you, Mor! I was supposed to wait for my sisters!”

They both broke into a fit of laughter as Feyre admired the dress in the mirror. It was perfect. It was flawless. There was nothing about it that Feyre didn’t like.

Rhysand wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of her.

She was barely able to keep her hands off of herself.

It was just over her budget; but, she didn’t really care. She wouldn’t be telling Rhysand, who she scolded just the night before about ordering too many flowers - but, she didn’t really care. She would only ever have one wedding dress.

“How long will it take for this dress to come in if I ordered it today?” Feyre asked. 

The owner went to a little computer where she typed away for a minute before saying, “Six months.”

All the breath left Feyre’s body.

But Mor wasn’t taking that shit.

“There isn’t any way it can get in sooner?” Mor asked. “Can she buy the one she has on and have it fitted? She’s getting married in October and that dress needs to be on her body when the day comes.”

The owner looked back and forth between Mor and Feyre. 

Her lips thinned. “I will see what I can do.”

She went back to work on her computer as Mor snapped an endless string of pictures on her phone of Feyre in her dress, which she promised to send to Elain.

Five minutes later, Elain had sent a reply: G E T  I T  N O W

Amren’s replying text was similar: If she doesn’t get that dress I will break in after hours and steal it for her.

If Elain approved, it was a must.

If Amren was talking about breaking the law, it wasn’t unusual, but it was still a must. 

The owner was still trying to figure out a way to get it in sooner, now speaking to someone on the phone in hushed tones. 

Feyre looked in the mirror, again. It was beautiful. Stunning. She could imagine it, paired with a simple pair of heels and a long, simple veil. She could picture Rhysand’s face as she walked toward him in the dress. He would watch her with wide, teary eyes, and a small smile, full of utter adoration. 

It was the dress.

Half an hour had passed before the owner rejoined them. The elderly woman sighed, as if all of her energy had been sucked away. “I can get it here in two months-”

Feyre heard nothing else because Mor had jumped up, off the couch, and was running to Feyre with her arms wide open. Laughing, Feyre let Mor embrace her, all while picturing her wedding day. 

What a perfect day it would be.

~~~~~

Cassian had gone for a jog along the Sidra, listening to his hype playlist through his earbuds. It was a perfect Sunday afternoon. The sun was bright, high in the sky, not a cloud to be seen. The flowing waters of the Sidra were sparkling beside him. 

Even Bryaxis had a little pep in his step, when usually he was trailing behind Cassian and whining after a mile.

They stopped near a little park where Cassian plopped down in the grass, Bryaxis beside him. After taking a drink from his water bottle, he squirted some into Bryaxis’ mouth, too, when his phone went off.

Nesta’s name popped up on his screen.

All of these movies you’re making me watch from the 80s are weird as fuck.

Cassian smiled at his screen before typing back, Which one are you watching now?

It was no secret that Cassian loved movies, so when Nesta asked for recommendations, he had given her a longass list and a giant stack from his personal collection. She had been living with Elain for about two weeks now, and was loving her sister’s company. Cassian hadn’t seen her much, though. He helped her move in, as he promised he would, but he was aware she needed space for now, and he was okay giving her that.

Didn’t keep them from having little text conversations nearly every day, though. 

The Lost Boys, she sent back, with a little vampire emoji.

What?? Cassian texted. It’s a classic!

Oh, please, she replied. It’s obvious why you’re such a fan.

Bryaxis had climbed onto his owner’s lap and Cassian was scratching his head, between his ears, when he sent, And why is that?

It took her a minute to reply in which Cassian used to stretch out his long, sweaty legs. 

Then the reply came: Bc you’re basically Michael

Cassian cocked his head to the side, even though she wasn’t around to see it. Untrue.

He could imagine her rolling her eyes. Especially when he got her text back. Long hair, motorcycle, thinks he’s hot as shit? Yeah, you’re Michael.

Cassian looked down at Bryaxis. “Nesta’s being mean, Ax.”

Bryaxis’s tail went wild at the mention of her name.

Cassian’s only reply was, I am hot as shit.

Nesta replied with the eye-rolling emoji.

Then, she sent, I’m almost done with the stack you gave me, and as weird as they may be, I wouldn’t mind if you brought me some more?

Before Cassian could reply, Nesta followed the text with, Maybe tomorrow? If you’re not busy after work.

Cassian looked back down to Bryaxis as he grinned. He didn’t know why he was grinning, felt ridiculous at grinning to himself and his dog in the middle of a crowded park, but he couldn’t stop that stupid little grin.

Sure. I’ll be over around 6?

Six gave him enough time to run home, shower, and grab another stack of DVDs she would surely be calling weird as fuck in no time. 

Cassian finished stretching, did thirty sit-ups, and was back on his feet, Bryaxis’s leash in hand when Nesta replied: Perfect.

~~~~~

Elain looked at her phone, where she had set a timer.

It had only been fifteen seconds.

The bathroom was small, but she paced back and forth relentlessly. She had chugged half a gallon of water, Nesta watching her curiously as she did so, before excusing herself to go to the bathroom.

They had been watching some vampire movie from the 80s. Not exactly Elain’s thing. She was glad for any excuse that politely removed her from the room.

Even if said excuse was anxiety ridden. 

Another glance at her phone.

Thirty seconds.

Her pacing continued, her fingers drumming wildly against her thighs.

It wouldn’t be the worst thing, right? I mean...Azriel would be great, of course, but it certainly wasn’t ideal. They had only been dating a few months, only began sleeping with each other the month before.

If it was true, it must have happened that first night, or one of the nights soon after.

It was too soon.

Elain’s anxiety shot through the roof.

She looked at her phone.

Forty-five seconds.

Two minutes felt like a lifetime when everything was on the line.

She was only a week late, but even when she was barely eating, her period had always remained normal - perfectly spaced out, returning like clockwork the third week of every month.

Her eyes met her phone.

One minute down.

One minute to go.

“It’s okay,” she breathed, shaking out her hands, as if that would somehow make the situation better. “It’s alright. Breathe.”

By the Cauldron, what if it was positive?

Would it really be okay?

Azriel would freak out, without a doubt.

He already had Mila. She couldn’t add more onto his plate.

She looked at her phone. 

One minute, twenty seconds.

But he was so good with Mila. He would be an amazing father. So gentle and kind, so loving and passionate. 

But would he want to have kids with Elain?

She imagined he hadn’t even thought about such a thing yet. Elain hadn’t even thought about it, not until she went eight days over her start day without her period.

For the Mother’s sake, they hadn’t even used the word love with one another yet. 

Phone.

One minute, forty-seconds.

Elain couldn’t breathe. She slumped down to the floor, on top of the gray, fluffy rug, and closed her eyes.

In, out.

In, out.

Don’t panic.

Panic doesn’t help.

But she couldn’t help it. Her eyes began to water, the tears trickling down her pale cheeks.

She suddenly had a feeling that everything was about to change. She was a woman. She knew her body. Either it had gone into shock with all the lifestyle changes she had made in the recent weeks, or this was all real. 

Her timer went off, and her eyes shot open. 

She took her phone off the counter and silenced the timer.

Then, with a shaky hand, she pulled the test off the counter. 

Pregnant.

She read it twice, ten times, twenty times, that single word the only word she could think of.

She was pregnant.

Pregnant.

With child.

With Azriel’s child.

A fist pounded on the door, scaring Elain shitless. She swore, quietly, scrambling up from the floor. 

“Hey, it’s Az. Nesta said you came upstairs. I assume you’re in there, since….well, you’re not anywhere else up here. Hope you don’t mind me coming by early. I dropped Mila off with Mor and Feyre to look for a flower girl dress. I was told I’m not allowed to see it before the wedding day, so...”

Elain took a deep breath, hoping her voice remained steady when she said, “Hey! Oh, I’m just...fixing my contacts.”

A pause. “Okay. I’ll go downstairs and wait with Nesta. I’ll catch the end of The Lost Boys.”

“Great,” Elain said, and her voice broke.

Azriel didn’t move from the other side of the door. She could see the shadows from his feet. “You okay? You sound upset.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she promised him, although she obviously wasn’t. “Just a little emotional today.”

“Alright,” Azriel said, uncertainly. “Can I open the door?”

“I’m naked,” she blurted.

“While putting in contacts?” Azriel said, huffing a laugh. “Not that it’s anything I haven’t seen before.”

The doorknob turned, and Elain cursed herself for not locking the door.

She quickly hid the test stick behind her back as he came in.

He took one look at her red cheeks, her blurry eyes, and frowned. “Hey…”

She was frozen in place as he stepped toward her, as he took her face into his hands and wiped away her tears. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, and Azriel pulled her into his arms.

His body stilled.

He was taller than her by quite a bit, no doubt looking down as she planted her face into his chest.

Down at Elain’s hands, behind her back, gripping the test so hard that her knuckles were white.

Azriel reached around her and took it from her hands. He stepped back, looking down at it.

Pregnant.

He took a step back, studied it as if he wasn’t seeing it correctly. 

His face was unreadable. 

Elain’s hands flew over her mouth as she broke into a sob. 

Azriel’s gaze jerked up, his eyes widened as she cried. “Hey, hey, no..”

He set the test down on the counter and pulled Elain into his arms. He held her tightly against him as she wept. 

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, voice muffled against his shirt. 

“About what?” he whispered. “You don’t have to apologize, El. Okay? Don’t apologize.”

She nodded, and when she looked up at him, his hazel eyes shone. “Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

He hesitated, his hands still rubbing her back. “I’m not….I’m in shock, I guess. But, I’m not….mad, Elain, I think you think I’m mad.”

She took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. “I’m in shock, too.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “Well, that’s good.”

Elain laughed, softly. “How is that good?”

“Pretty sure shock is normal in these situations,” he said, quietly.

All the tension left Elain’s shoulders. “I’m scared.”

“About what?” he asked, voice low.

“All of it,” she said. “Carrying a child, birthing a child, and everything that comes after that. And you...Azriel…” Her words trailed off, but Azriel didn’t say anything. He watched her and waited, patiently. “You would be an amazing dad, Az, but I don’t want to trap you.”

His brows furrowed as he brushed her newly fallen tears away. “Is that what you think? That I would stay with you because you’re pregnant? Or, that I would even want to leave you in the first place?”

Elain looked down. She shrugged. She wasn’t sure what she thought, wasn’t sure how to sort her thoughts. 

Azriel lifted her chin back up with his fingers. “Do you want to have this baby?”

It was the same question that Elain had stayed up the night before asking herself, over and over again. If it’s positive, do you want to keep it? Elain laid her palms flat against his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath. Although afraid, she felt completely confident when she answered, “Yes.”

Azriel smiled, tentatively, and nodded. “Then I’m going to be here, okay? You’re not trapping me, Elain. You couldn’t trap me if you tried. I know we’ve been together for a few months, and we’re still in that honeymoon stage, and I won’t pretend that I know what the future holds....But I do know that I love you.” He kissed her forehead. “And I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to do this, and it’s going to be okay, okay?” 

Elain laid her palm against his cheek, brushing away the tear he had that fell. “You love me?”

She knew Azriel, knew he didn’t say things unless they were true. And, after talking with Mor, she knew Azriel had never said that word to another woman. 

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I do. But, you don’t have to-”

“I love you, too,” she breathed, interrupting his modesty. 

And it was true.

Yes, she had loved Graysen, but it was a false love. She loved the idea of Graysen, loved the life they had built, but it wasn’t true, Graysen had proven that in the end.

But with Azriel…

Azriel was truth, kindness, gentleness, passion, genuity, love. He was everything she needed for herself, all wrapped up into one, perfectly imperfect man. 

And she loved that about him.

She loved him.

He smiled down at her, and it was one of those smiles that she had only seen a handful of times from him. His teeth showed, his eyes went bright, his plump lips curved upward. That smile...it was an image that Elain kept in her memory for her darkest of days. 

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

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #modern au #feysand #elriel #nessian #tacmc AITA #the end is coming

[dutifullybitchypeach]

My two cents worth for the first six chapters and some reasoning around IC and Nesta. All my own personal opinion. Read if you want but it's just my general thoughts. Please, please don't flip if you disagree. I love Nesta and the darkness she is in right now and her behaviour is taking over this sassy no nonsense Queen and it needs to change.

THIS INCLUDES SPOILERS.

....................

Is the House of Wind a prison...technically no. Nesta just does not have the ability to fly or winnow. And no one is on standby to be her taxi. She can leave by walking. Amren threw her that challenge on purpose. She's not alone, Az and Cassian live there. And the Priestesses. Yes it has dark memories. Yes. I know that and I take it on board.

On a side note, it's irritating to hear 'I'm not your prisoner" from Nesta (who I like!!!!) I think of Azriel, Feyre, all the Fae Under the Mountain, even Elide 💗. Then again everyone's idea of prison is different. But the fact remains. She CAN leave. It's just bollocks hard. For a reason

But we know it's what she needs. We know that. We don't have to like it. Not one likes the reality. The ultimatum is uncomfortable and harsh. Our way or fuck off. They are not suggesting manual labour or degrading her. They suggest training, food, working in a library, purpose, being part of something. This doesn't sound bad to me. It just sucks it comeing across as an order. But this is Nesta's POV and she doesn't do requests or pretty please. The fact I got riled up reading it is a compliment to Mass. I had to take a major step back and reassess. Nesta sees everything as an attack. And no that is not her fault. Stay with me! I agree people enjoy provoking Nesta ( Rhys, Morrigan, Cassian) and then get affronted when she bites back. At some point I'd enjoy her retaliation akin to her ripping their head off :) And their vow to never go there again.

The IC 'review' is what annoys me. The "we" will decide where you go from here if you play ball. My hope 🤞 is that Nesta will TELL THEM where she will go/what she will do with sass. But right now sitting on a rock instead of trying to train is fucking juvenile (Again I stress I like Nesta). She hates her power as far as I can tell. But she is so low she can't see the wood from the trees. Or the hand that is been given to her.

Does Feyre have a right to be embarrassed. Yes. I'd die of shame if my sister (I have 3 btw) kept at that again and again and again all on my families dime. Without even being polite or respectful to anyone. She's only ever provided for Nesta. Period. Not to mention being a high lady with all the responsibilities that entails. Living her own life (well earned) and well life in general! I mean Jesus, Nesta is not her only priority. She maybe ours lol! But Feyre has 101 things going on. Give her credit. She tried with Nesta several times. Gave her space and time which Nesta wanted while still making the effort to reach out. Nesta needs to acknowledge that. Feyre was bankrolling her self destructive lifestyle and it had to stop.

The whole "your behaviour reflects badly on us". Well yes it does. Nesta doesn't get a free pass. The whole of Pyrithian is rebuilding and our girl is pissing away money. That's not even hers! Her behaviour does undermine the Court, folks must eye roll when IC lay down the law when your sister/ sister in law is prancing around being a with a big fuck you. Everyone is broken and rebuilding. And it's a slap in the face. Is the saving face irrelevant to Nestas issues, yes! But is Feyre allowed to feel fucked over, yes! Sisters say shit when they fight. Arguments are not flawless debates. Their emotive and bring out the worst in people. Feyre darling is feeling the pressure of being high lady and it came out all wrong. Especially when it's your sister acting up.

And Nesta never tried (as far as Feyre can tell) WE know Nesta IS trying, and surviving every day is a battle. But Feyre doesn't. Why would she. Nesta doesn't speak to her. But their relationship is so toxic that it's beyond Feyre to get it. And that is not her fault. NO ONE is perfect. There is only so much responsibility Feyre can CONTINUALLY take.

Rhys being there. I have a feeling that a male will not let his pregnant mate anywhere near someone he is afraid of. It's instinctive. Someone who hasn't trained to control their powers especially. He is on High Lord mode cause guess what he is a High Lord. This is his court and the people in it his responsibility. Not to mention the oncoming drama with the queens on the horizon and general court bullshit. Does he abuse his position of power.... well in this world the HL have the power. Everyone is answerable to one. Even Amren obeys the rules. Nesta doesn't/won't recognize that. Which is rare. They tricked and lied to get her "consent" surprise surprise a dick move from Rhysand/Feyre. We know they will do that for the "greater good". Lie, steal etc all in the name of saving the day. He screwed Morrigan over in front of her ass Father for flip sake! My point is the NC stability is his priority now more than ever if impending fatherhood is on the way. It's no surprise he wants Cassian to take on more responsibility. Nesta is a liability cause she is AWOL. It's worth noting he had this plan for months but Feyre refused preferring to give Nesta space and the opportunity to decide for herself what she wanted. So we could assume if Rhys had his way Amren and Nesta would have still been friends and it would have been far different. Amren would have been by her side. Do I condone his domineering behaviour, no not in a million years. And neither did Feyre. Will he apologise? Probably not he's an arrogant ass. And wanted to control the room. Fact. He wants/needs Nesta on board the team to bolster his ranks. She is that powerful. We KNOW he will do anything to protect his family (baby on the way).

Morrigan and her nasty comment on sending Nesta to The Court of Nightmares. Cassian acknowledges it's an insult but also the truth. That's a harsh fact on how Nesta is percieved right now. But I believe she wouldn't just thrive there, she would CONQUER ;) I don't know if Morrigan is referring to the people that abused her or the "type" of people that live in Hewn City...? Will we give HER the benefit of the doubt... hmmm.

Morrigan and that comment on good people giving Nesta the benefit of the doubt...that's Morrigans issue. She never gave Eris the benefit of the doubt and yet he proved her wrong with Keir. She's all over the place as a result . And she's been lying for 5 centuries. To her family. Cassian said he values the raw honesty that he has with Morrigan. Wow is he going to get a shock some day. Nesta may be a bitch but at least she's an honest one. And Morrigan knows it which must rattle her to no end. Point is Mor isn't supposed to be in this story very much and Nesta never really cared for her opinion anyway. So neither should we. I've checked out of Mor. Knowing she won't give Azriel closure or honesty just makes me not consider her opinion. It suits her to keep Nesta down in the gutter so her lie can continue.

Amren - her behaviour. I have to remind myself Amren is OLD, a stint in the Dungeon is probably a standard response! Her idea after the Summer Court fiasco and the jewels was to go there and crush them. Amren is by nature harsh. Which is why she gets on with Nesta the most. Cassian tells us she cares. Nesta can't see this. Her comment on Nestas sex life in ACOFAS. People ran with that. Fae lifestyles always kind of disgusted her. She wasn't Fae so bodily functions were an alien concept. Now she's Fae she's slightly horrified. Also no one else has much to say on Nesta's bedroom antics. Cause it's a non issue Mass doesn't do slut shaming. So neither should we. Speaking as a woman also here.

Elaine - we know Elaine craves peace and quiet. Confrontation is not her thing. Being there would mean Nesta would use her as a crutch, and I'm not sure Elaine wouldn't cave. Nesta pushed her away on purpose and Elaine choose to try and find some sort of contentment. That's her right and choice. Agree or disagree. She walked away or decided she can't deal with Nestas difficult behaviour. I don't know. Or is she oblivious to the situation ?! Who knows. Elaine is an enigma! It's the first 6 chapters! Right now they are two different people and have been drifting apart since ACOWR. Nesta is a dichotomy of pushing people away and hurt when they stop trying. It's exhausting for the people that have to deal with it. Who are not perfect and have their own issues and lives. Elaine has stepped back from this situation. Because either she recognizes it needs to happen or cannot sway the majority. Though I think Elaine did say something to Feyre, cause when Nesta pressed her she refused to say what Elaine thought. Just that she wasn't there and not part of the issue. Feyre is high handed when it comes to her sisters. Because that's the role they allowed her. Nesta is fighting back. And Feyre takes it personally. Which is only natural. They're sisters.

Cassian! Ah Cassian. He was spectacularly rejected and being around Nesta is a constant reminder. That's enough to make me cringe in a corner. He acknowledges he stayed away cause it hurt too much. He's a soldier and has serious self discipline. He has no idea how his behaviour/comments hurt her until she confronts him. Deliver him a few home truths. Another well deserved kick in the balls. Flirting with Mor, not sure his behaviour there has ever changed. He keeps it normal cause being around Nesta gives him the shakes!! Lol. He is slack jawed after Nesta and wants her badly, passion we know is big thing for them. It ignites them. Raw and real. Recognising Morrigan is aesthetically beautiful is just a fact. We know she's a looker. So what. Meh to this issue some people have.

We know from spoilers they start training and communicating and Mass is a Nessain ship so I'm excited to see this grow and flourish! I've read spoilers here on these two so I've no qualms.

Cassian for me is right. He and others have been through similar situations before so can empathise. But until she answers him back without snapping he won't be able to be that shoulder to lean on or turn too. He's not going to be her Prince though. Nesta is her own Queen!

I've read some spoilers on her friendships and I'm so happy. I've no idea how it will go but it says to me that the IC have a block when it comes to Nesta and don't see her the way others do and Nesta opens up to people who don't have a predisposed prejudice.

Also the IC have no idea how Nesta is going to react at any stage. It's like walking around on eggshells. Why would anyone actively choose to be around someone like that. That and very obvious fact they are BUSY AF. They don't have time to have a daily bollicking from Nesta. Yet all fall in when the plan is announced. Make what you will of that.

Some further musings:

Nesta being reminded she has to be respectful to Clotho and the priestesses is sobering. Like wow, people can't trust you will have basic manners. Again I know this is Feyre saying it but Christ to worry about that. Will be interesting with Gwyn and that friendship and a nice reality check for the IC.

I spent 4 God damn books understanding Rhys motives. He's a prick yes. Which I enjoy. But the bastard people are making him out to be I don't agree. Half of Pyrethian hates/hated him, Nesta hating him won't stress him. Or her for that matter. They have a 2 people they both care about in common and will just have to deal.

Training in Illyria, well Nesta is powerful, training in the mountains is probably damage control if she explodes. And a change of scenery from her prison!

Rhys was controlled for 50 years, Amren escaped worlds to be free. I don't believe they want to control Nesta.

Families are messy and fucked up. The intervention is a perfect example of how arseways it can get.

Azriel being Azriel I'm not sure about anything with him right now. I've read the snippets and spoilers and I'm all over the place. He is one of my favourites. FYI when I say IC I never mean Azriel I don't know why but I always imagine he finds it just plain drama and avoids it at all costs. Nesta is drinking and gambling away her life. Okay! Nesta is now training and we are all on board to help. Okay! Nesta is a powerful Queen and we are all afraid. Okay! Nesta has turned Cassian into a drooling mess and hes ass is hers. Excellent ;)

Sisters! They need to deal and respect each others independence. They are all in the wrong. It's just annoying at this stage. Personally I'll rip into my sisters when I need to but usually get a red mist when anyone else does. Even if they are in the wrong. I have a habit of always defending them.

So overall the angst killed me in the first 6 chapters. Did Rhys dominant shite irritate me? Yes. Do I want Nesta to make it clear she's not a pawn in his/their world? Yes. In spectacular fashion please.

Did Feyre handle it well? No. Does she ever deal with Nesta well? No. Perhaps only when Nesta is more inclined to talk. Which is rare. The ultimatum we know from Cassian sickened Feyre she recognizes it for what it is it but really cannot see any other option. Her fault or a combination of factors you decide. It was hyper tense situation we all just wanted to get through.

Would we be so angry if this was a soft approach headed by Elaine/Feyre/Amren? Would Nesta even react?

Cassian compared Nesta to a sleeping dragon who has just been woken up. Nesta needed a kick in teeth. A major reality check. Life in Pyrethian is hard. This a fae world. She is angry and incensed they have dared to 'interfere' and 'assume' she will be controlled. I want her to tackle her demons, confront her fears her issues with herself and others and live! Live! I've no idea what she wants and can't wait to find out.

***I've read some spoilers on the end. The rumours and the actual basic plot ending. I'm like Mass I love a HEA. And am hopeful I'll be satisfied. I had a similar theory when I heard the pregnancy rumour. A move by Nesta that would never have anyone doubt her.

#acosf spoilers #a court of silver flames #acofs #nessian #nesta archeron #nesta and azriel brotp

[hireath24]

Everything Wrong with ACOFAS: A Rant  Part Four

Disclaimer: This is the fourth and final part of this series and will continue from pages 151 to 229. Part one can be found here. Part two can be found here. Part three can be found here. These page numbers come from the UK paperback edition of A Court of Frost and Starlight. This is my own opinion of the book - the writing, the grammar, the characters, etc. I won’t be commenting on anything that may have been plagiarized or that has been ripped off from the history of other cultures as SJM has a tendency to do. However, if there is something you pick up on about these subjects, feel free to comment them and I will add them to the post with credit. If you disagree with my opinions, I’m sorry and hope you see the error in your ways.

Page 152: ‘...felt like a decadence.’ I’m sorry, felt like a decadence? That’s not how you use that word.

Page 153: Feyre is drawing Rhys in the nude and all I can think of is draw me like one of your french girls Jack. 

Page 154: Whilst I’m happy that SJM is showing everyone suffering from a hangover because of all the drinking they did in the previous chapter, I want to know why Feyre couldn’t just use her magic to get rid of hers. And everybody else’s. If she’s said that she could use her magic to remove the pain of grief, why can’t she do this? 

Page 155: The paragraphing in this book is so messed up. I’m going to type out this little bit exactly as it is printed in the book, look: ‘But two massive figures filled the archway of the dining room, and Rhys paused.

Azriel and Cassian, having crept up on cat-soft feet, were also wearing their Illyrian leathers.

And from their shit-eating grins, I knew this would not end well.’ What is this? It’s such a mess. 

Page 155: ‘Tradition indeed.’ 

Page 156: Everyone keeps going on about how wealthy the Night Court is and I still don’t understand where they’re getting their money from. Do the people of the Night Court have to pay tax? Does Rhys have an amount of money that he puts back into Velaris for the upkeep of it? And why is Feyre saying that ‘paperwork could wait’? Uh, no. No, it can’t. The people of her court can’t spend the Solstice like she is because their homes are wrecked, they’ve lost family members. Feyre abandons her duties as High Lady to fuck around with friends and we’re supposed to believe that she’s a decent ruler? I don’t think so.

Page 164: ‘What is.’

Page 165: So Rhys upset Tamlin when he went to go and yell at the poor sod over in Spring Court a few chapters back and it upset Tamlin so much that it made him throw out all of Lucien’s clothes because he ‘wishes to remain in solitude’? So, basically, this was all Rhys’s fault and he doesn’t face any consequences for it. 

Page 167: I’m so happy that Elain is making it very clear that she doesn’t want a mate, but I wish Feyre would stop going on about how good of a male Lucien is to her. And she says to Elain ‘You couldn’t say a single word to him’ as if it’s Elain’s job to make him feel comfortable? Elain wants nothing to do with him! Feyre needs to stop pressuring people. 

Page 167: ‘Solstice. It was Solstice.’ WHY

Page 168: Aaaaand they’re drinking again. Feyre abandoned her work for friends and alcohol. I’m not okay with it but I’m even less okay with how common and casual wine is used here. 

Page 169: ‘Tell me what.’ 

Page 171: ‘Illyrian babies indeed.’ 

Page 172: Do you remember a couple of years ago when high school AUs were all the rage in fanfiction? That is what this book reads like, only high school AUs managed to make me cry on a few occasions. 

Page 172: So it’s an ‘Illyrian custom’ for the heated shed, birchin, and a bunch of naked warriors ‘sitting in the steam, sweating’. But... Why? And can somebody please tell me what a birchin is? 

Page 178: One of the characters gets red sexy underwear as a present, which is fine. But in a kid’s book? No, no, no, no. No!! A twelve year old could be reading this! What the fuck? 

Page 179: ‘Against the onslaught of Nesta.’ Wow, SJM is really trying her hardest here to villainize Nesta. 

Page 184: ‘rare, vibrant paint from the continent.’ This line was just thrown in here without any explanation at all! Why is the paint rare? How did Azriel get it from the continent? Why is it only available on the continent? 

Page 193: These last couple of pages really did it for me with Cassian’s character. He follows Nesta home after she says she doesn’t want him to? He yells at her and tells her to ‘go somewhere else’ even though he knows she can’t? He reaches for her hand after she’s told him many, many times to leave her alone? This is creepy. This is stalker behavior. And if they get together (which we all know that they will), this is fucking borderline abuse. It’s controlling and toxic and unhealthy, which could be said about all of SJM’s romances but heigh ho. 

Page 194: What is ‘faelight’? 

Page 201: ‘Would it indeed be a gift for you?’ 

Page 201: Also, why is the mountains with the stars the Night Court’s symbol? What’s the history behind it? 

Page 201: Feyre’s toes have ‘curled’ three times in this book and I’m just thankful that the Fae can’t develop arthritis.

Page 202: I can’t... I can’t read this sex scene. I can’t do it. It’s too much. ‘My breasts turned achingly heavy.’ OH MY GOD. Not only is this a kid’s book but.... It’s also just disgusting. 

Page 202: ‘Brazen possessiveness.’ This can’t even be read as sex positivism  anymore. It’s violent, possessive smut. Did somebody say BDSM? (Wait, wait. BDSM requires consent and safe words.) Also, if you want to write about sex positively then talk a bit about protection? And consent? And making sure that everyone is comfortable? And for goodness sake, don’t add this to a kid’s book. I made a post that goes into more detail about this here.

Page 204: ‘How you let me do such naughty, terrible things to you.’ FUCKING WHAT?! DO I EVEN NEED TO EXPLAIN HOW BAD THIS IS?!??!

Page 205: ‘Undiluted, utter predator’ You cannot look me in the eye and tell me that this was SJM’s attempts at adding in some sex positivity. To be honest, I’m, starting to think that this whole book was just fan service. SJM knew that her readers wanted the wall scene and here we have a whole book dedicated to the build up of it. NOTHING HAPPENS IN THIS FUCKING BOOK!

Page 206: Rhysand just climaxed at a picture of his child. 

Page 209: It’s incredibly sweet that Rhys bought a house for Feyre. Really, no, it is. And the ‘build a nursery, Feyre’ is also sweet. But A) the money side of things needs explaining. B) Why does nobody want to be at the House of Wind and what’s the point of even having it if nobody uses it? C) Rhysand bought Feyre a house when many of his people are currently homeless due to the wars... Right. 

Page 211: At this point, Rhysand should just leave Tamlin alone. I don’t care what his intentions were. And seriously, is this the way that High Lords act with each other? There should be guards there, there should be people there to protect their own High Lord. There should be advisors and- What does the Fae government look like? What are the rules? Is there a jail? A judge? The High Lords act like spoiled, rich children. 

Page 214: ‘Alive. It was all alive.’

Page 214: Mor has an estate that sits on ‘three hundred pristine acres.’ I want to know the geography of the courts. Yes, I know, we have a map. But that’s all we have. I want to know about borders (and if there are physical borders that need to be guarded to stop people from coming in to separate courts). Is a passport thing or even papers required to travel between courts? Buckingham Palace has 39 acres of land, including what it sits on. Did SJM do any research? There are whole countries smaller than three hundred acres. 

Page 215: ‘She didn’t want to take his joy away from him. Anymore than she already did.’ Mor feels guilty about her sexuality because she won’t be with Azriel and, somehow, fans of the book are okay with that. 

Page 222: This may just be me being stupid but I’m confused about ‘Illyrian.’ Rhysand said their children would be Illyrians, Feyre calls him an Illyrian baby. They wear Illyrian leathers and follow Illyrian customs but here: ‘Some part of him was Illyrian still. Always would be. Even if he wished to forget it.’ What does this mean? I’m so confused. 

Page 222: Do you know what might be a better act of feminism then having girls train to fight? Having the boys of all the camps be allowed to leave. Being allowed to stop fighting and go and have families. 

And that’s it from me, folks! I’ve read this book twice now and my opinion hasn’t changed. It’s boring, problematic, addresses things very poorly. It’s too sexual, there’s too much talk about alcohol and sex. And it really did nothing at all. 

Thank you for joining me on this little series! It’s definitely been interesting. Again, if there’s anything that I’ve missed then tell me and I shall write it in. I may do this again with more of SJM’s books but it’s surprisingly time consuming. 

#anti sjm #anti sarah j maas #anti feysand #anti acofas #anti acomaf #anti acowar #anti acotar #anti roawaelin #anti feyre #anti rhysand #anti cc city #anti crescent cty #anti tog #my post

[livlepretre]

ok wait i have some thoughts about acotar that you may or may not agree with... but basically i loved acotar/acomaf but hated acowar and i didn't even try to read acofas. there was a lot i hated about acowar but basically it sums up to 1) hated how sjm tried to retcon rhys into being this perfect amazing flawless person kind of destroying everything that was interesting about him in the first couple books. 2) THE EXTREMELY GRATUITOUS AND NUMEROUS SEX SCENES IN THE MIDDLE OF A WAR. LIKE ??? oh god especially that one scene where feyre wakes rhys up by... yeah. 3) king of hybern fell so flat as a villain i was expecting to get more backstory or smthg on him but no he was just... there. and evil. for no real reason. and then they killed him. like... ok. 4) TAMLIN WAS SO OOC. AND I HATE HOW SHE VILLAINIZED HIM. i also find the whole fandoms take on tamlin to be very bland and ridiculous. like yeah he obviously was not the right person for feyre and he made some serious mistakes for which he should be held accountable, but he was traumatized too! he was a very flawed character but he's not a villain!!! that scene where he's like making rude sexual comments about feyre in front of everyone felt so ooc for him. hated it. 4) mor's coming out storyline was... very bizarrely handled, and frankly i just found it hard to believe that mor's sexuality was something sjm had planned from the start of the series. as a bi woman that whole plot just rubbed me the wrong way. anyway. ya those are my thoughts but i'm curious to know what u think about this series lolol

Oof complicated question. 

I think in general I come down positively on ACOTAR based mostly on the strength of the first 2 novels? I read ACOTAR and ACOMAF back to back right after ACOMAF came out, and let me tell you: I was obsessed. I was devastated. I was enthralled. It filled some very particular requirements for what I really wanted-- it was gorgeous and atmospheric and really frightening and romantic. I thought the characters were well developed, and I just thoroughly enjoyed the world-building with vicious alien faeries and the real sense of danger, as well as the magic and the breathtaking imagery. As a painter myself, I LOVED reading about painting in a way that felt so true to the actual experience of what it’s like-- so much rarer and harder to actually find than one would think-- ACOTAR and An Enchantment of Ravens are the only two novels I can think of that even grasp the experience. I loved Feyre as a human, loved loved loved the trials, and I loved how even after she became High Fae, there was an element to it that was incredibly disturbing-- the idea of having a human soul in a fae body, which meant that things that sort of roll off of the fae around her-- like violence and killing-- profoundly disturb her and wreck her soul. I loved that. (at least, that was how I interpreted the “be glad for your human heart” thing, and also why I assumed she didn’t recognize the mating bond... that maybe, as a human soul in a fae body, it would be lost in translation for her until it was actually consummated). 

One of the things I also really loved about ACOMAF was that it took everything in ACOTAR and subtly turned it on its side. At that point, I was used to 1st love = true love, so actually reading a narrative where a heroine could change partners was really refreshing, and I liked all the ways that, looking back, we could realize that Tamlin wasn’t it-- that he didn’t try to free her from Under the Mountain (wow that should have been obvious) or how he never offered to teach her to read in the 1st book. I also really liked Feyre’s observation that she needed to feel protected in the 1st book because of where she was coming from then, but that by the 2nd book, because of the trauma of her imprisonment, she felt smothered and trapped. I thought the 2nd book did a good job of showing how Tamlin and Feyre could be really trying to make their pieces fit together the way they once did, but they had both been too changed by their experiences to work and had in fact become poison for each other. They both had PTSD, and I felt that was clear in the narrative. And I was happy for Feyre to leave, I loved the exploration of her depression and her slow recovery, and I was okay with how Tamlin was presented in that way because there is a way in which he really was as helpless as her-- yes, his actions were abusive, but I didn’t think that came from having an abuser’s personality. The tragedy was in the fact that he was also suffering and screwed up, and that meant that Feyre had to leave for her own sake, and that Rhysand ended up being what she needed. 

I’ll put my problems with the series under the cut. 

My problems started in ACOWAR, and it was primarily a characterization problem with Feyre that bothered me. To be honest, SJ Maas has this thing where she makes her main characters (male and female) just the most extraordinary over the top horrendous bitches out of the blue and it’s just like what the fuck. I think she does it for drama, and while I love a cold bitch (NESTA IS MY QUEEN)... that’s not Feyre. Her actions in the Spring Court were so much crueler than I would have anticipated. And it bothered me the way that those actions hurt everyone there, which was wild to me, as it was her home once, and that’s not Feyre. She’s the girl so empathetic that she gave those water faeries her bracelet to use as tribute. That she mourned so hard it nearly broke her for those faeries she killed in her third task. The whole point of the 1st novel was that she started with hate in her heart, but that she’s naturally so empathetic when given a chance to think about anything other than bare survival that love comes rushing in. So, I really disliked Feyre being a bitch for the sake of being a bitch. She felt unrecognizable to me. I realized recently that part of this is that Feyre actually completes her character arc in the 2nd book-- at that point, she’s figured out who she is, gained peace, happiness, and empowerment through it, and found a home. She’s answered all of the conflict within herself, so there’s just not really anywhere for her character to go in the 3rd book, which is part of why she feels so weird as a pov character. 

There were other things of course. Rhys had lost that edge I loved in him so much. (what was the point of that prologue, btw?) This is a little thing but giving Lucien a last name really wrecked a lot of the wonderful strangeness of the world building and I resent it. Especially since no one else has a last name. Sarah was on the right track when she gave Rowan the last name “Whitethorn.” THAT is a faerie last name. I don’t know what this Vanserra stuff is. What else. Hybern was supes whatever. Feyre making bargains was pretty much what we’d seen before. I didn’t mind the sex scenes because that’s just what you can expect from an SJM novel, and I don’t really have any comments on Mor’s coming out story. I also suspect that she was originally written as straight in ACOMAF, but then SJM changed her mind while working on ACOWAR. I’m not going to fault her for attempting to write more inclusively and more diversely (which, as we know, is already not something she excels at). I did find the hook up with Lucien’s dad real awkward though for everyone involved though. YIKES. TOGAS. YIKES. SJM also does this thing in her finales where too much of the books tend to be about the battles and the actual war, and that’s not nearly as interesting as the character moments that might occur because of the war. 

So, that leaves my primary complaint, which is Tamlin. I kind of think that it’s not even a matter of him being OOC, so much as Feyre being completely hateful toward him. Like, I remember thinking he was wildly OOC when he was siding with Hybern, a human hater, as he had specifically said in the 1st book that he would always fight against that. I remember being THRILLED when it turned out that he was playing Hybern, and how disappointed he was in Feyre for ever thinking him capable of actually siding with Hybern and bringing up that conversation they had in ACOTAR. I also loved it when he helped her escape the POW camp, and when he told her to be happy at the end. But honestly, after Feyre fucked him over SO! HARD! in the beginning of the novel, not at all surprised that he showed up at that meeting ready to talk smack. I was on his side during that whole thing, because by that point, I was like, get wreckt Feyre. (Which KILLS ME because I LOVED Feyre in the first 2 books, I think SJM really does mistake just horrendous bitchiness with confidence or something? It just horrified and embarrassed me the whole novel). I really do hope that Tamlin gets some sort of arc going forward. I was so depressed by our visit in him in ACOFAS-- sitting alone in that crumbling manor. I think he actually does deserve a “redemption” arc, although I don’t think he actually has to be redeemed. 

On the subject of bitchy Feyre: I do NOT like the way she treats Nesta in ACOFAS. I guess we see that Feyre has an empathy problem in ACOTAR in that she totally misreads her sisters in the first few chapters and thinks of them in the most uncharitable light possible, and of course, once she decides she’s done with Tamlin, she always assumes the worst of him, but wow. The way she handles things with Nesta just horrifies me. I just can’t imagine treating my siblings like that, or extending them so little empathy. 

And ACOFAS made me think about building snowmen and other horrible fluffy things and it was not my favorite. 

But all this being said I know myself and I am definitely going to read A Court of Silver Flames. I think it might be really good, actually. 

#acotar

[bookloverfeministnerdthings]

Okay so I just finished re-reading the ACOTAR series (except a Court of Frost and Starlight) and there are sooo many things about this series that I absolutely love and now, of course, have to type here lest I annoy my friends by spamming them with my thoughts. 

(There are many spoilers below)

Feyre and Ryshand’s Relationship

I love their relationship for sooo many reasons, but mainly because it is a great depiction of a healthy relationship.Their relationship doesn’t take away from either of them as characters and also allows them opportunities to grow together as well as separately. Below is a summarised list of some of the reasons their relationship stood out to me.

They continue to function individually after becoming a couple: I hate books (and movies) where after getting together, the characters cease to function as individual beings. However, this is not the case with Feyre and Rhysand. They remain independent after getting together and frequently function independently of each other. Only a few days after Feyre is sworn in as High Lady, she goes off to the Spring Court to try and destroy it from the inside. And Rhysand goes off to prepare against Hybern back at the Night Court. Separately. And they continue to do things separately throughout the rest of the series. 

They don’t instantly become a couple; they’re friends first: Ugh, I have read too many books where there is an awkward practice fight-dance (I’m being serious) and then with almost no conversation the characters are miraculously together. Which is why it’s so refreshing to ready the flirty banter between Rhysand and Feyre as Feyre is questioning “are we just doing this to relieve some stress and tension and have fun or do I like Rhys but how can I tell how he feels about this?” I don’t know if I’m just sadistic but I love reading all the squirming and confusion and flirting as Feyre and Rhysand transition from being friends to a couple. And all this occurs after they’ve already developed a friendship and Feyre has left the Spring Court.

They view themselves as equals: Feyre is High Lady!! I absolutely love that Rhysand’s just like “No, I don’t care about tradition you’re gonna be High Lady”. I also love that Rhysand is always reminding Feyre that the Night Court is hers as well (even though I do find it sad that she is always referring to the court as “his” and stuff). Even at the end of ACOWAR Feyre asks “Is Amren still your second?” to which Rhysand replies “Our second”. I hate the sexism that still exists in their fantasy world leads to Feyre still sometimes deferring to Rhys about their court but I also love that Rhysand doesn’t just let it go and makes sure she realises that it is equally her court

Rhysand doesn’t try to force Feyre into a relationship even though he knows they are ‘mates’: Ok so on the other hand, he also hid and important fact about her and their relationship from Feyre but I think telling her would have been worse. It’s up for debate. But either way I think that that Rhys was ultimately trying to let Feyre be happy and make her own decisions even if that meant she married Tamlin. Rhys didn’t want to try and manipulate her to leave by telling her about the mating bond. There are definitely some dodgy aspects to all of it, for example, if Feyre didn’t know about the mating bond how could she have made a fully-informed decision about marrying Tamlin? Would she have left him sooner if she knew that he wasn’t her mate? Did Rhys inadvertently extend how long she stayed with Tamlin because she believed that the she and Tamlin would be mates? All of these questions are valid and raise interesting points but ultimately I think that Rhys didn’t want to try and force a relationship with Feyre or pressure her in any way.

There is more about their relationship and definitely more examples but I’m tired :/ I need to reserve my ranting energy for other subjects. 

Classism in the Series

So the classism in the series is less topical in ACOWAR because, you know, war is kinda at the forefront of everyone’s minds but in the earlier books the topic is raised a few times. The main classism in the series is the difference between the High Fae and the lesser faeries. Even the names illustrate the prejudice that lesser faeries may face. Tarquin and Feyre discuss breaking down the class sytem before she uhhh... robs him. Classism is interwoven in the series without affecting the plot and it ultimately adds to the world-building. The examples of classism add to the depth of the world. None of the classism really effects the main plot but it fleshes out the world and serves as a reminder of the classism present in our own society. Ultimately, although the classism isn’t explored fully and doesn’t affect the plot much I love that different issues can be explored sub-contextually via literature. 

Mor

Morrigan (Mor) is one of my favourite characters in the series. She has such an amazing background story. Honestly, such a role-model. 

During her childhood she was so powerful, more powerful than anyone else in her family but instead of being given opportunities to use of expand her strength she was just seen as a prize mare by her family. Her family was only focused on how they could use her strength to gain reputation and social standing by marrying her off to someone with influence. But instead of letting herself be used like a bargaining chip by her family, Mor makes her own choices that, although risky, give her some freedom. Instead of letting her virginity be sold to Eris, Mor chooses to lose it to her friend Cassian thus rendering her “spoiled” and useless to Eris, his family and Mor’s family. Mor’s family is so furious with her that they send her to the edge of the Autumn Court border (Eris’s court) with a note nailed to her stomach, telling Eris that Mor is his problem. Despite all this trauma, Mor endures and finds a crucial role in Rhysand’s court by overseeing both the Court of Dreams and the Court of Nightmares (where her family presides).

But another thing I love about the series is that Mor’s traumatic experiences don’t undermine Feyre’s own experience’s with Tamlin, or that of any other character. Neither is positioned to be viewed as “more traumatic” or “more important”; in fact, there is a huge emphasis placed on healing together and being able to understand what the other went through.   

There is sooo much more about Mor that is also exemplary (includingthe conversation between her and Feyre that reveals she prefers females over males) but I don’t have time to give it the attention she deserves.

Rhys

I just want to quickly highlight something about Rhys that stood out to me:

The sexual and emotional abuse he suffered from Amarantha: Different stories of abuse are interwoven throughout the series but I find it important that a male, main character is also shown as the victim of sexual and emotional abuse. It is also important that Rhys is extremely physically strong but was still subjected to sexual and emotional abuse because it highlights how men who have been abused aren’t necessarily physically or emotionally weak. This portrayal of a male victim of sexual abuse also diversifies the series without taking away or belittling the experiences of other characters.

Ok so there is so much more that I haven’t written about, mainly due to time but these are a few of the things that stood out to me.

#sarahmaas #acotar #feminsim #acotar series #feyreandrhysand #feyre #rhys #mor #classism #literature

[illyrianwingspans]

Do Not Go Gentle: Dancing After Death

Link to song

Synopsis: More aftermath, someone pays a surprise visit to Feyre.

TW: Dark thoughts. 

Ao3 Link

Chapter 8: Dancing After Death

I was paralyzed.

As I laid in Rhys’s guest room bed beneath the light of the rising sun, I realized that I was paralyzed in my own mind.

I didn’t know how it happened. I didn’t know how I lost control—but suddenly, the onslaught of memories and emotions rose like a cresting wave, and I was bound to the shoreline as they crashed down upon me over and over again, mercilessly, drowning me until the very breath ripped from my lungs. Every pulse or movement or mental process lead me right back to those moments in the coffee shop. Whether I was in the front with the barrel of a gun pressed to my forehead, or clutching that very gun as two bodies slumped before me, the only thing I could think, feel, hear and taste was murderer, murderer, murderer.

And when that wasn’t enough, I was brought back to the incident. To mangled metal, shattered glass and heat waves rising from the ground as fresh blood met the winter snow. Brought back to moments alone in the stand-alone bath tub we used to have at the penthouse with a blade pinched between my fingertips.

I had to wring my hands in my lap to try and control myself.

At some point it was too much, being in that room by myself, alone with the hurricane in my mind. And instead of giving into the instincts that screamed at me, I went for a compromise.

Floorboards creaked beneath my feet. Tiptoeing, I held my breath as I crossed the hallway from the guest bedroom to the bathroom where I’d been only hours ago trying to scrub away two strangers’ blood. It still smelled of the bleach that Rhys had doused over everything before going to bed.

Cold enveloped me as I sank into the ceramic tub. It was large, big enough for two people, and comfortable enough that I could extend my legs in front of me without bending them. Rhys’s shirt billowed out around me.

What was I doing here? How did I end up here?

Questions that reverberated through me. Unanswered they remained as I curled further into myself in a failed attempt to escape the cold ceramic. The pain in my chest was sharp and aching, but I ignored it.

More importantly, though, was how do I get out?

I was stuck in a spiral, I realized. Wide enough at first that I didn't realize I was falling, spinning and bending into the depths of my broken being in a tightly coiled spiral, all the way down. No way out. Forever trapped in this cycle until the end.

The thought terrified me. I had no way out. I was trapped.

A creaking sound rippled through the small space, and my head whipped to the door to find a groggy Rhysand looking back at me confused. There were bags beneath his eyes. I hadn't noticed until he stepped into the dim light where his sleeplessness shined through. Loose sleeping clothes curtained him, sweatpants and a t-shirt similar to the one I wore.

He took a few steps towards the bathtub and perched on the side of it, taking in my curled position. “Can’t sleep?”

I shook my head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

Rhys looked me up and down where I laid hunched in the tub, then swung his legs carefully over the curled lip of the ceramic to settled down in front of me. We both adjusted so our legs ran parallel to each other, and his were so long he had to keep them bent so they would fit in the cramped space.

“You’re warm,” I murmured, nestling my head between my shoulder and the ceramic.

“You’re cold,” he replied, then hesitantly laid his arm on my legs so that it covered my ankles and calves. My eyes closed at the heat he radiated.

Hot, like the blood that’d coated me a few mere hours ago. My eyes snapped back open to see Rhys watching me intently, his expression calm and neutral in the wee hours of the morning.

“Night Industries works in security, right?” I wondered aloud. I didn’t know why I asked it, but I just wanted to hear the sound of his voice. To let him talk, to let me forget.

Rhys swallowed before answering. “Yes and no. It’s one of the many facets of the industry, one that we’re very focused in right now—but I started off in real estate, like your fiancee.”

“That’s why you own half of Prythian.”

A wry smile. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“You only do security detail? Like there’s a line-up of jacked mysterious men and women at your disposal?”

At that Rhys let out a soft chuckle. “Security detail, cyber security, infrastructure security, all of it. Though we don’t like to think of it as a line-up. It’s more of a reservoir.”

I shot him a pointed look. He only wore his usual cunning smirk, but with each passing second both or our expressions dropped until we mirrored the same empty, hollow gaze.

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

Darkness like I’d never seen before flickered in Rhysand’s eyes. “Yes.”

“What happened?” Unease twisted in my gut.

The male released a sigh and sank deeper into the ceramic. An invisible weight made his shoulders sag. “I used to be a police officer. Before I took over my father’s business, before I got into business, I was a cop. Trained at the academy for a year, was on duty for two years.” He paused briefly, as to collect his thoughts, then said, “One night, we got a call. Hostage situation. A man had kidnapped his niece and had her for over a week in an ongoing investigation. It was outside of the head detective’s precinct so they called us in to try and manage the situation before the others arrived. After an hour of trying to negotiate, I could tell things were about to go bad. And all I could hear was that little girl’s voice, pleading for someone to help her.

“I went in and the house was a mess. Bloodstains on the walls. Rotten food in the kitchen. The hole place reeked. We knew he’d been abusing her in more ways than one.” Rhys swallowed hard. “When we went down to the basement, the guy had a gun to the girl’s head. It was all I could focus on, and in the heat of the moment, I didn’t think. I just shot.”

That’s when his eyes finally held mine, and he admitted quietly, “He was using her as a shield. I didn’t see because I was panicked and all I saw was the gun against her head. But I shot her by accident. Then I shot him. As soon as the case was closed I gave in my resignation.”

Tears streamed down my face. Over and over again, like a song I couldn’t shake out of my head, the sound of the gunfire went off.

“How do you move on? When will the pain finally stop?”

Rhys’s expression bled empathy. “I wish I could tell you that it goes away. I wish I could tell you that I let my experiences be my strength and not my downfall.” He released a defeated breath. “But there isn’t a day that goes by that her scared face doesn’t enter my mind. At first I thought it would kill me, but now it’s faint. Like the smooth edge of a scar.”

Scars. I knew a lot about those. They lined my thighs up and down, evidence that years had passed, and I had not forgotten. Not forgotten that cursed night when I’d killed another woman, again at the hands of my blessed shortcomings.

Though I’d tried to erase them, I’d tried to get ride of them, the truth is that my scars still burned bright when revealed. They made others gawk and stare and mutter to themselves, and only further buried me into the slow grave I was digging.

“Feyre?” Rhysand murmured.

I looked up to him from where I’d been staring at my thighs, covered by the thin material of his t-shirt. It smelled faintly of citrus and jasmine. Before I knew it, a calm settled over my body, and my cheek rested against the cold ceramic as sleep washed over me slowly, then all at once.

+

Creaky footsteps sounded throughout the room as someone tried to carefully tiptoe from the door into bed. The light flowing through the room alerted me that it was early morning. I didn’t know how I’d gotten from the tub and back to the guest room, but I assumed it was thanks to the dark-haired man sleeping in the room across the hall. Yet why has he come to wake me in the wee hours of the morning?

Then something strange happened. A weight made the mattress dip next to me, and someone slid into the sheets. I bristled when skin brushed against my legs, and beside me there was a sharp intake of breath.

“What the—” a masculine voice swore lowly.

No time was wasted as I damn near jumped from the bed. When I looked down, there was man—that wasn’t Rhys—wearing the same shocked and disturbed expression that I was.

Except that the face wasn’t unfamiliar. I could spot the long, tousled hair and sharp jawline anywhere. My jaw dropped as I whispered, “Cassian?”

“Feyre?” Came the equally surprised response. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Um, sleeping. In my bed. You—” he shook his head. “How did you get in here?”

More footsteps thundered down the hallway, gaining closer to us, and a tired, groggy voice called panicked, “Feyre?”

Then Rhys tore open the door, wearing nothing else besides sleeping shorts, his head whipping back and forth between Cassian and I. I guess the pyjamas he’d adorned hours ago were more for my sake than for his normal sleeping comforts.

“How did you get into my house?” Rhysand demanded as he took in Cassian, still curled up in the bed.

“How did she get into your house?” Cassian retorted incredulously. “I am not the stranger here. This is my bed.”

“Oh bullshit Cass, how many times do I have to tell you that this isn’t your room?”

“Well it certainly isn’t Feyre's either!” Cassian looked from Rhys to me. I stood there, lips pursed tightly, thanking the Gods that Rhys’s t-shirt was long enough to cover my thighs. “How do you two know each other?”

Rhys and I held each other’s gazes, waiting for the other to explain the complicated relationship between us. Finally, Rhys sighed and said to Cassian, “She’s Tamlin’s fiancee.” Then he looked at me and wondered, “You called him finally?”

“We box together,” Cassian explained, then grinned. “So that’s how you got my number. Didn’t want to associate yourself with my brother, did you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, shut it.”

More moments of silence passed between the three of us as we looked to one another in the small space. My headache grew with each pulsing second, and Cassian only goaded, “Well? I get that you work with her fiancee Rhys, but pray tell why the pretty lady is in my bed?”

I narrowed my eyes at Cassian and Rhys only replied, “First of all, it’s not your bed. And second of all,” the male sighed and looked to me before saying, “I was going to call you first thing in the morning. There was an incident last night. At the coffee shop.”

Cassian’s brows shot up and he demanded, “Why wasn’t I called immediately?”

“Because I had to call Azriel. It wasn’t your kind of mess to clean.” Rhys pursed his lips. “Two men threatened her by gun point trying to find the shipment.”

“So you took care of them?”

“No.”

Cassian was about to ask who, and I could tell, because he looked to me then went silent. He had his answer.

“Oh, Feyre,” Cassian murmured, full of heartbreak. I blinked back the tears threatening to pour over as the brunt of what’d happened yesterday hit me once more.

“I need you to take her to your private clinic. We have to keep this as secret as possible.”

Cassian looked to the bandage on my forehead that Rhys had carefully placed on top of the cut. “You mean she hasn’t been to a hospital yet?”

“Can you please stop talking like I’m not standing right here.” I interjected quietly. “I didn’t want to go last night, Cassian. I will go with you later and we will figure all this out,” I pointed to the window, “when it isn’t five thirty in the fucking morning.”

Rhys looked to the window, then to Cassian. “Why are you only getting home at five thirty in the morning?”

The brute only shrugged his shoulders. “Went out drinking with Mor.”

“Until five thirty?”

“No, until two. Then I stayed up watching TV and eating your cereal. We need more cereal, by the way.”

Rhys turned with a disapproving grunt to head back to his room, and I had to look away from his backside which was scandalously highlighted by his tight sleeping shorts. He growled over his shoulder, “I want my key back,” before slamming the door to the master bedroom.

Heaving a sigh, I looked back to the male who still lounged in my bed. “Well?”

“Well what?” Cassian bit back.

“Out.” I pointed to the door.

“This is my bed!”

“Out!” I repeated before climbing back under the sheets and curling onto my side.

Weight shifted beside me and I felt a voice whisper next to me, “You sure you don’t want some snuggles?”

A gurgle of laughter bubbled in my throat, but I pushed it down before taking a pillow and swinging it at him with all my might. He finally retreated and the door closed, leaving me alone with the morning light and the sound of my quiet breaths.

Alone with the deafening stream of babbling thoughts. Blood and pills and eyes and guns. They traipsed around each other, allowing the fear they incited to creep down my spine and nestle into my bones. I tried to spool that fear back in, master it, and shove it down where it couldn’t be reached, but the fear was always stronger.

+

Cassian, Rhysand and I ventured back into town to a private clinic Cassian and Rhys relied on when treating injuries received in more…illegal situations. Madja was the doctor that day, and she did a full check-up—physical exam, neurological exam and CT scan to confirm there was no damage to my brain. She said that the impact had been harsh enough to cut skin, and I’d have a tiny scar on my forehead thanks to it, but nothing that would seriously harm my health besides short-term headaches. Cassian and Rhys had stayed with me the whole time (due to my notable unease in describing what’d happened the previous night) until Madja had closely examined the bruising on my chest and arms. Apparently, I’d broken a rib.

I didn’t have the heart in me to guess whether that’d been due to James or Tamlin’s desk.

She also gave me a splint for my wrist, which I now would have a valuable excuse to wear around the house that Tamlin wouldn’t go ballistic at. Though I’d been roughed up, Madja assured me that everything would heal on its own eventually and I didn’t need surgery for my rib. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Gods for it.

When I left her office with the prescription clutched in my hand, Cassian and Rhys were instantly there asking questions one after the other. Once satisfied, we finally made it back to the car, when Rhys informed me that Tamlin was arriving in an hour and that he’d meet Rhys and I at the penthouse. Cassian had to go work some paperwork out at the gym anyways, and I found myself saying goodbye to him on the street out front while Rhys waited in the car.

“How didn’t you know I was Tamlin’s fiancee if you’re working on this with him?” I asked Cassian, who stood before me with a scowl and his arms crossed. Ever since we’d left Madja’s office, something seemed off about him.

He answered, “Rhys gave me very little details, and at the time you weren’t much of a security risk. Not until now, anyways.”

An awkward pause extended between us, so I tried filling it with, “If you own the gym then why are you working with Rhys and Night Industries?”

“Side job,” he quipped with a shrug.

I dropped my voice and asked lowly, “What’s wrong, Cassian?”

The wind muted our conversation to passersby, and I was grateful as he blew out a sigh and said, “I saw the footage, Feyre. Of everything that happened in the shop. The injuries described to your chest don’t match up.”

My heartbeat climbed into my throat. “What?”

“He punched you in the stomach. Below your chest. No where near your ribs.” He shook his head. “I don’t know whether to come with you and kill the prick myself or to yell at you for putting up with this.”

I swallowed hard and looked away from Cassian’s piercing stare. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Cassian.”

“Yes I do. And I’ll be damned if I stand back and watch him do this to you.”

“Hey,” I asserted, all bite and fury, “this is my life. These are my choices. And these are my secrets. Mind your own fucking business.”

He raised his hands in defeat, then slowly walked away without another word. My face burned in shame as I got back into Rhys’s car and slammed the door, hard.

+

When we arrived to the penthouse, Tamlin was already there, hunched over the couch with his back to us. I swallowed hard at the sight, knowing full well by the tension in his muscles that he was furious. At the sound of the elevator doors opening, he spun around, and true relief lined his features when he saw me. I wanted to run to him, let him hold me—I just wanted someone to hold me and tell me it was going to be alright. But as soon as he saw that I was okay, that I was in no immediate danger, he turned to Rhys with the promise of death in his eyes.

“This was your mistake, Noctis,” Tamlin spat with an accusatory finger pointed in Rhys’s direction. The dark haired man only slid his hands into his pockets and raised his brows, as though he were mildly amused at the bold claim Tamlin made.

“I didn’t hire those two men to attack your fiancee if that’s what you’re asking,” Rhys said nonchalantly. “And I intervened as soon as I was alerted to the situation.”

“There shouldn’t have been a situation in the first place,” Tamlin spat. “You’re fired.”

Rhys scoffed and stepped closer to my fiancee. “You’re not the one who hired me, Tamlin. I’d check with Hybern before you make such claims.”

“I just got off the phone with him, and he agrees that this was the last straw. Effective immediately your contract is broken. The fees for the early termination of the contract are being transferred to you as we speak.”

Rhys looked from Tamlin to me, and though his expression never slipped up, I could see it in his shoulders—there was fear there, in the way he stood too-still. “Who’s going to handle the shipments, then? Your two dimwits who fucked it up last time?”

Tamlin shook his head in disgust. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

Rhysand laughed, a full, mocking laugh, and turned on his heel. “Take care of yourself, Tamlin. And Feyre, darling,” he paused and looked over his shoulder to hold my gaze, "Fight it."

Without another word, the dark-haired male stepped into the elevator, and stepped out of our lives.

Which left me alone with Tamlin, who only looked me up and down, then wrapped me in his arms. I winced at the pressure on my chest, but let him hold me nonetheless.

“I’ll protect you,” he swore lowly in my ear, “I promise, Feyre, I’ll protect you.”

#dngg #acotar #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #sjm #feyre #rhys #feysand #rhysand #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction

[cromwxll]

                          “NEVER TRUST A PRETTY SMILE LACED WITH POISON.”

⌠ 𝑮𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑾𝑶𝑶𝑫, 𝟐𝟏, 𝑪𝑰𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑬, 𝑯𝑬/𝑯𝑰𝑴 ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, 𝑹𝑯𝒀𝑺 𝑪𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑳! according to their records, they’re a 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑺𝑻 year, specializing in 𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑼𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑺, 𝑪𝑼𝑳𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑬, & 𝑨𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 + 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻 𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵; and they 𝑫𝑰𝑫 go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( 𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑿𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑪𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑬𝑵𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑫 𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺, 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑫 𝑪𝑼𝑭𝑭𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑺 𝑶𝑵 𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑬 𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮, and 𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑹-𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑮𝑼𝑬𝑫 𝑳𝑰𝑬𝑺  ). when it’s the 𝑺𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑷𝑰𝑶’s birthday on 𝟏𝟎/𝟑𝟎/𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟖, they always request their 𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑲𝑶𝑻𝑺𝑼 𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑵 from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. 

* / CHARACTER INFLUENCES: LOGAN ECHOLLS ( Veronica Mars ) + GINA LINETTI ( Brooklyn 99 ) + BLAIR WALDORF ( Gossip Girl ) + VARYS “THE  SPIDER” ( Game of Thrones ) + OLIVIA POPE ( Scandal ) + LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR ( Lucifer ) + NUCKY THOMPSON ( Boardwalk Empire )

* / VINE REFERENCES: x x x

* / PERSONAL ANTHEM: BEEF FLOMIX - Flo Milli

Hi all, I’m Bri and this is my mess of a child RHYS. Feel free to like this post or hmu on discord if you want to plot :)

TW: Abuse, depressive thoughts, substance abuse, sex. Read with caution.

* / GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Rhysand Salvatore Cromwell.

KNOWN AS: Rhys.

AGE: Twenty-one.

DATE OF BIRTH: October 30, 1998.

PLACE OF BIRTH: Manhattan, New York.

GENDER: Cisgender male.

PRONOUNS: He/him.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual.

RELIGION: Agnostic.

* / PHYSICAL & MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS

HEIGHT: 5'11 ( the last inch escapes him ).

WEIGHT: 168 lbs.

HAIR COLOUR: Black.

EYE COLOUR: Black.

TATTOOS: Gavin’s tattoos.

PIERCINGS: None ( you can see ).

BODY TYPE: Athletic.

PHYSICAL HEALTH: Peak.

NOTABLE PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS: Signature smirk, dark eyes, curly hair.

FACE CLAIM: Gavin Leatherwood.

VOICE CLAIM: Gavin Leatherwood’s speaking voice.

CLOSET / STYLE: Chuck Bass.

ILLNESSES / CONDITIONS: Dyslexic ( kept secret ).

ADDICTIONS: Making people cry.

VICES: Wrath, pride.

* / BACKGROUND, OCCUPATION & EDUCATION

BIRTHPLACE: Manhattan, New York.

RAISED: UES Manhattan, New York.

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Gallagher Academy.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, German, learning Japanese.

EDUCATION LEVEL: HS diploma from spy academy.

FINANCIAL STATUS: Upper class / Wealthy.

* / FAMILIAL BACKGROUND

FATHER: Salvatore Cromwell.

MOTHER: Natalia Cromwell ( née ? ).

SIBLINGS: None.

BIRTH ORDER: Only child.

RELATIONSHIP WITH FAMILY: Tense/Estranged.

PATERNAL GRANDPARENTS: Francis Cromwell + Constance Cromwell ( née Delgado ).

MATERNAL GRANDPARENTS: n/a.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: None/Rose Park ( deceased ).

* / PERSONALITY

POSITIVE: Intelligent, charming, loyal, and dedicated.

NEGATIVE: Impulsive, cynical, arrogant, and wrathful.

ZODIAC: Scorpio.

MBTI TYPE: ENTJ.

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic neutral.

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin

AESTHETIC: Bubble baths, whiskey-filled crystal tumblers, penthouse parties, hate fucking until dawn, scarred knuckles, YSL cologne, secret hiding spots, guilt-ridden hues, broken promises, sly smirks with hidden intentions, uncontrollable impulsion, designer scarves, wrathful masochism, rolling blunts in town cars, full passports, lost boy syndrome, knives on tongues, hallowed out chest.

* / BIO: There was no option for Rhys on the night of his birth, he was destined for GREATNESS. Born to Salvatore Cromwell, a high ranking official in the Directorate of Operations of the CIA, and his wife Natalia on a chilly October night ─ the night before Halloween as a matter of fact ─ both saw his arrival as the best thing to happen to their seemingly perfect family. In a sense. And so he had to be the best.

He went to the best schools, only associated with the best families, the best parties and clothes and girlfriends, they were only the best of the best. Growing up, he didn’t recognize the pressure put on him was insurmountable. The lifestyle he lived didn’t expose him to those who had other options and chose their own path. He grew up with kids whose lives were planned out the second they were born. Just like him. Rhys assumed they were all the same. All their mothers were knocking back martinis with the egg white omelet they had for breakfast every morning, didn’t they? And when their dad came home after months of being away and says he was passed up for promotion again, he grabbed their arm so tight that sometimes it felt like it was gonna snap, right? His mother’s tears were normal. Getting hit with a belt any time he scored lower than expected on tests were normal. So why didn’t it feel normal?

Rhys’ home life was the one element he couldn’t control. But his social life he could. At school, he was a legend. With a family name like Cromwell, notorious to have spawned politicians and businessmen and entrepreneurs over the past couple of centuries, all great in their own right, Rhys was known. And he liked it. He had the perfect life at the spy school his father enrolled him in. With a group of friends as close-knit as they could be in a world driven by infamy and lies and a girlfriend he loved more than life itself, Rhys couldn’t imagine anything better. Until it wasn’t.

Rhys loved his girlfriend Rose Park. He knew he did because he treated her the way his father should’ve treated his mother. Their relationship wasn’t perfect, no relationship was, but they always found their way back to one another. For Rhys, she was a shining beacon of light and love and hope that one day, life would be better. That was until he found polaroids of Rose kissing their mutual best friend, Josephine. He was stunned. For a week he avoided her and their friends like the plague. What he felt wasn’t anger or rage, he didn’t turn spiteful, he was just...heartbroken. In the end, all he wanted was Rose’s happiness. While he hoped this was a need for sexual exploration, he knew that if Rose wanted to be with someone else that he would still support her. Because he loved her. And living a life with her in it as his friend was better than one without her at all. He was going to tell her this.

Until she was murdered.

Her death happening because her personal bodyguard, Josephine’s father, left her unprotected to tend to Jo’s sickness, sent him into a spiraling downfall. When his mother left a few weeks later, it only added to his growing pain. Nothing made sense. Not how his mother could just leave, no note, no anything. Not how his father barely flinched when he noticed all of her stuff gone. Not how the world seemed to keep on spinning even though Rose was gone. And especially, not how Josephine got to keep on with her life like nothing had changed. The pain he felt only escalated day by day, echoed on by the empty townhouse he returned to every day and the quiet dinners spent with housekeepers while his dad was away. He needed an outlet. And a target along with it.

His senior year, Rhys directed the anger he felt on the girl who took everything from him. Every spiteful word thrown at her, the influence he inspired on the rest of the student body to do the same, it all helped the throbbing ache that constantly permeated his body. When school was over for the day, he turned to recreational forms of comfort that went beyond his usual party favors. How he was able to graduate top of the class is still something that escapes him to this day. But his father knew of his antics and decided that his son would not go to college and only drown further in his sorrows.

In the CIA it’s called “The Lakehouse”. A remote hideout meant to kick into shape covert specialists by training them in all things brutality. Rhys was only there for two years, off the record, where he excelled in weapons and hand-to-hand combat while his pain was to be used as a driving force. There, his father finally sculpted him into the “perfect” son he always wanted: ruthless, cunning, heartless. It was here that Rhys realized that his father never cared about a family, but rather a legacy. Rhys was his breathing legacy, and he’d continue to be so once enrolled at Gallagher.

Waiting for admittance to Gallagher over the summer left him curious. His skills were now more finely honed, so he actively began to seek out his mother’s whereabouts. He quickly realized that it would be difficult, as the name he knew her by was not real. Her social security, passport, ID, even family photos, were all fake. Part of him wasn’t shocked, as marrying someone who was a complete fraud just for appearance's sake sounds like some his father would do, but in the end, it only left him with more questions. Who was she? Where did she go? Why did she leave?

Rhys hopes to find these answers now that he’s attending one of the top spy universities in the world. Surely, they’ll be able to help him find answers. Otherwise, he’ll take them for himself if he has to. On the plus side, if things ever turn out worse than he imagined and the pain returns tenfold, at least he has little Josephine here with him to keep him company. Two years later, she’s just as small, just as fragile. And Rhys always did enjoy breaking things.

* / PERSONALITY: He’s the stereotypical pretty boy with a side of trauma. Cocky. Sweet talker. Renowned partier. Excels in everything he puts his mind to, for what he’d like to think is for himself, but deep down it’s for the recognition and approval from his father. Though his father tried to mold him into something unfeeling, like a brutal machine, it’s just not in his nature. Rhys feels. A lot. That’s why he’s still hurting over the death of a girl he loved over three years ago. Maybe it’s because it was the only healthy relationship he had in his life, and one of the only events he’s held no control over. A stickler for how he likes things, he’s very particular about who he interacts with. At Gallagher, he will be no different. He’s the best, and he needs to be surrounded by only the best.

* / WANTED RELATIONSHIPS: His bros, competition at the school, someone he trusts enough to tell about locating his mom ( only it won’t be immediate but a relationship that builds up to it ), and the usual ( party friends, lovers, etc...)

#gallagher:intro #so #this got long #my bad peeps

[olympicreads]

a court of thorns and roses by Sarah J. Maas rating: ★★★

“Grunting against the weight, I grasped the legs of the deer and spared a final glance at the steaming carcass of the wolf. His remaining golden eye now stared at the snow-heavy sky, and for a moment, I wished I had it in me to feel remorse for the dead thing. But this was the forest, and it was winter.”

warning: this review contains spoilers for acotar and very mild spoilers for events from the future books in the series.

I’ve got to say, over the last few years, I’ve heard so many things about this series, both marvelous and terrible, that I was scared to read. I finally decided that I should think for myself, instead of letting what others say make up my mind, and gave it a try. I went in with zero expectations, but I’ve got to say, while far from being perfect, it wasn’t as bad as I had feared.

A Court of Thorns and Roses is a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, in which Belle is a human girl called Feyre from a disgraced family that lives in extreme poverty, hunts to provide food for her and her family, and could never learn how to read and write. The Beast is none other than Tamlin, a Fae High Lord of the Spring Court, able to shapeshift into... well... a beast.

One fateful winter day, Feyre goes looking for game deep into the forest, where she finds a doe that could feed her family for over a week being stalked by a giant wolf. Her first suspicion, which is also the truth, is that she has encountered a faerie that’s shifted into animal form. She doesn’t let her fear win, and shoots it anyway with an ash arrow, the only material capable of killing fae, so that she could get the doe and feed her sisters and father. Unfortunately, her actions have consequences in the form of an angry High Lord tracking her to  her home, and demanding a price for the life of his friend: her death, or her presence at his court. Begrudgingly, she accepts the second offer. 

For almost 200 pages after, absolutely nothing relevant happens in terms of plot. Everything is about Feyre adapting to life at the Spring Court, with almost next to no worldbuilding, since Tamlin keeps the truth of what’s happening in Prythia hidden from her and she spends most of her time inside or in the area sorrounding the High Lord’s residence. The only thing that made the reading more bearable was highlighting all the instances of dash abuse, badly used ellipses, and fragments. To name a few:

“...thought of what Tamlin had mentioned about how these estates should not have been his, and felt... sorry for him.” - chapter 12.

“The room was similar to mine in shape, but was bedecked in hues of orange and red and gold, with faint traces of green and brown. Like being in an autumn wood.” - chapter 13.

“...I would have refused to be so far from the wall, from him. That going back to my family was as far as I would allow to be sent from his side.” -chapter 28.

However, the story starts to pick up afterwards, fortunately, and takes us to the underground court where the tyrant fae queen rules. Here, we get reintroduced to my least favourite character in the book: Rhysand, aka Gaston, aka I-already-know-you’re-Feyre’s-future-love-interest, aka fucking-die-already.

The charming High Lord of the Night Court does nothing but piss me off. He tortures Feyre, sexually abuses her, and manipulates her into a deal with him when she’s in an extremely vulnerable position. I’ve browsed some of the Goodreads reviews, and I’m extremely surprised to find that a lot of fans find this guy -this hundreds-of-years-old immortal douche- to be swoon-worthy. I’d like to ask them why. Let me reiterate: he tortures the main character, sexually abuses her, and manipulates her for his own gain. The High Lord of the Summer Court (by the way, the only explicitly human-looking non-white character in the whole book, only there to be horribly humilliated and murdered) pisses himself in fear when he sees Rhysand. 

This is not how you write a love interest, it’s not hot or sexy or “how a bad boy acts” (not even when he’s “pretending to be evil” because there is no pretence - this is straight-up malice). This is terrifying. This is how you write a villain. Hadn’t I already known about the existence of “Feysand,” I would’ve assumed that, once Amarantha was dead, Rhysand would’ve become the “big bad” of the next book. 

I've got to admit, though, that his presence served to make the Under the Mountain arc more interesting. It served to make clear just how well over her head Feyre was, how impossible it would’ve been to survive on her own. I felt genuine sympathy for her during this time, and it was nice to see her sacrifice pay off in the end. Feyre the Faerie. Kinda like Hannibal the Cannibal. Heh.

All in all, there were things that I hated, and things that I liked. I’d love to hear more about Lucien, Nesta and the history of Prythia in the future books. I’d love to learn more about Fae and human culture in Maas’ world. It’d be lovely to be introduced to characters of color who are not there to be killed off, and, since I can’t make Feysand disappear from existence, I’d like to see Rhysand grovel a little a lot for what he did to Feyre. Maas getting another editor specifically for her fragments and ellipsis problem would be neat, too, but hey! We can’t have it all.

I think I’d like to see what else is out there, what a woman might do with a fortune and a good name.

trigger warning for graphic depictions of violence, explicit sex scenes, and sexual abuse.

#booklr #bookblr #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #book review #my review #3 stars #anti rhysand #anti feysand #[using those tags just in case!]