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#im so sorry feyre baby its for the plot
illyrianbitch · 4 months
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Beneath the Ashes of Our Broken Oaths
Pairing: Morrigan's Sister!Reader x Azriel
Summary: After abandoning the refuge of Velaris, you, Morrigan’s twin sister, returned to the forsaken Hewn City fueled by a vision for a better future. Now, your estranged family seeks your help when rumors of rebellion spread at a time of utmost inconvenience. Torn between your anger and a desire to protect the good, you begrudgingly agree and are forced to face memories of a past life and the unsettling presence of Azriel– the first man you ever loved.
Warnings: ANGST, Helion being compassionate and its sexy, Inner Circle slander (sorry feyre baby), Y/N is kind of a bitch (but its warranted and a slay), family trauma.
Word Count: 2.9k
Part Two
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
It was Helion, the High Lord of Day, who had seen the flicker of hope in your eyes. A man of discerning wisdom, he recognized your yearnings of a better world. He knew you, he knew your heart, and he trusted your vision— with the promise of your support shall he need it. You knew that your support, in the grand scheme of things, meant nothing to Helion. He had always held a heart of gold, of understanding, and he would have helped you without anything in return. But you had insisted, declared that you needed to give him something to thank him. Your support, he had agreed on. It was all you had left, anyway. 
Now, you stood before him, pleading. Your chest was tight and a calm panic filled your veins. You needed to act. You needed to keep things in place.
"Helion, please," your voice, normally composed, now carried a tremor, a plea that hung in the air, reeking of desperation. Low light poured through stained glass windows as the sun slowly set, painting a kaleidoscope of muted colors on the marble floors.
His eyes, usually filled with warmth, held a regretful sympathy. 
"Y/N, I wish I could," He replied, his voice caressing the air,  "But with the current state of affairs and your father’s growing paranoia, it's too risky. I can't jeopardize my people. My help is needed elsewhere."
Approaching you, he extended a large hand, gently cupping your chin, his touch reassuring and pained. "Give me some time, sweetheart."
Desperation deepened in your eyes, and the intensity of your plea swelled. Aching with fear and worry, your gaze remained locked on his. "I don’t have time. Hewn City corrupts swiftly. You know this.”
Helion sighed, a sound filled with a blend of both compassion and helplessness. "Perhaps you should reach out to Rhysand. His influence might help, now more than ever."
Yor felt a bitterness surface, like bile rising through your throat. A soft scoff left your mouth as you roughly pulled Helion’s hand away from your chin, withdrawing from his touch in offense. "Rhys had a chance to help. He didn’t. He couldn’t care less. I won’t go crawling to him."
Helion's gaze softened, a tender response to your rough tone. He let out a sigh and pulled you close to him once more. His touch sent a wave of comfort through you, something that happened often when you visited him to discuss these things. Helion was a man who loved physical connection— you didn’t mind it. It made you feel seen, understood. Now, you craved that feeling more than ever.
 "I don’t understand this contempt you hold. Surely they will want to help you. They miss you."
You rolled your eyes at this. Of course Helion would think so. As much as you trusted him and his admiration for you, he always did love your family. Your sister and your cousin would always be in your life, tied to you in one way or another. Frustration tinged your voice. 
"It's too late. Going to Rhysand now would draw unwanted attention or, worse, he’d halt my efforts because of some perceived danger."
There was a moment of silence, and your eyes bounced around the room, searching for somewhere to land that wasn’t Helion's burning gaze. Once more, he moved a hand to gently cradle your face.
"You cannot foresee every outcome. You're not a mind reader, Y/N."
A bitter laugh escaped you, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "I might as well be when it comes to family."
 "You've accomplished so much. Allow yourself a reprieve. You can't bear the weight of the innocents lives in Hewn City alone."
You blinked away the tears that welled in your eyes as you admitted, "I can't afford to stop. If I do, they'll think I've given up." 
"No," Helion asserted, his voice unwavering. "Your dedication is commendable, but you need to care for yourself. Let me help you."
You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at him, his brows furrowed slightly and a sad smile on his face. He moved his hand once more, gently tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. Then, he ran a finger along it, a soft caress carried by a weight of understanding. You shuddered at the lightness of his touch. 
 "Stay, Y/N,” He suggested, his voice smooth and low, “Let me be a distraction. You take care of others; let someone take care of you."
You leaned slightly into his caress, feeling the warmth radiating from his hand. A fleeting sense of comfort teased at the edges of your weary soul. Yet, reality swiftly reasserted its grasp, and you gently withdrew, a soft sigh escaping your lips.
"I appreciate the offer," you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. Your hand delicately intercepted his, guiding it away from your cheek. "But I can't afford the luxury of distraction right now."
He acknowledged your decision with a small nod. 
“I wish I could do more for you."
A tender smile found its way to your lips and you held his gaze for a fleeting moment of gratitude.
“I know.” You replied before you winnowed away, leaving the luminous embrace of the Day Court behind.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
You were on edge. You had been for the last few weeks. Now, after failing to convince Helion, you could feel it catching up to you, a dark hole forming in the pit of your stomach. It felt like you were being swallowed alive, eaten by your own anxieties and fear. But you didn’t have time for this. You couldn’t risk falling apart, becoming vulnerable. No, not at a time like this.
You had mastered the art of drowning your thoughts, of discarding the weight that threatened to pull you under. Tonight would be no different. The impending storm would be weathered, as it always had been. You would begin to drink your worries away, give them time to manifest, and then shove them away into the crawlspace of your mind, free to collect dust and rot away.
You moved toward a small table where a simple platter of dark amber liquid awaited. Your fingers tightened around a small crystal glass as you poured. As the first sip touched your lips, you felt the familiar burn, a welcomed distraction. The amber liquid offered solace, if only for a fleeting moment.
And then, you stilled. The creak of the floorboards behind you announced their presence, and you felt it—a pricking at the base of your neck, the subtle disturbance of the air as someone entered, no, appeared. Your body tensed instinctively, shoulders rigid, as you ceased your movements. You took a moment to compose yourself, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply-- a futile attempt to ground yourself.
You downed the drink, the warmth spreading through your veins, and set your glass down, a definitive thud echoing in the silence as it met the table. You turned around slowly, the ever-present undercurrent of anxiety beneath your skin momentarily masked by a face of composure. The simple décor of your home surrounded you—the tattered tapestries, broken furniture—all a testament to a life you had built in the aftermath of your return. One that lacked the color that you once held.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Your voice, laced with both mockery and a hint of something darker, hung in the air.
In front of you, Rhysand stood tall and proud, a figure of authority. His eyes, once familiar and comforting, now held a look determination. His gaze held yours strongly, and for a swift moment, you saw them soften. But the tenderness quickly dissipated, his eyes narrowing with a slight tilt of his head. You ran your eyes along his face, then down his form, taking in the detailed and intricate patterns of his clothing— an embodiment of Night Court royalty. Then, you looked at him again, your jaw clenching. It had been a while since you looked into his eyes, a violet color deeply embedded into your mind. For a moment, his presence consumed your thoughts, distracting you from the other man that you felt in your home.
From the corner of your eyes, you could see the dark figure stepping out from the corners of your room. A darkness licked at your skin.
"Hello, Azriel," you acknowledged him, your eyes remaining fixed on Rhysand.
Azriel's presence was a dark whisper. The edges of your room seemed to blur with shadows as he stood there, a silent observer.
"I’ve come to request your help," Rhysand's voice cut through the stillness, his words carrying the weight of urgency.
Your response was swift, dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, that's rich."
The corners of the room seemed to darken further as Rhysand's frustration manifested in the clenching of his jaw. The subtle play of shadows accentuated the lines on his face, revealing the strain of a desperate plea.
"Please hear me out."
You shook your head. They shouldn’t be here. This was risky, dangerous. You needed them to leave. They needed to disappear, to let you go and never find you again. That was the only way you would be able to survive.
But every fiber in your being was screaming to do the opposite, to embrace your cousin and explain to him, tell him everything. You wanted to get on your knees and beg for the kindness he always showed you, to ask him about your sister. For him to tell you about his life, his love, his child. But you couldn’t. And from inside you, your heart tugged you to Azriel, his stoic form. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to catch his gaze. It was all so wrong. This disconnect, this anger you felt for them, for your situation, for yourself… it was eating you up. But this wasn't the time. So you pulled your thoughts together and focused on the one thing that had never let you down: your fire.
You reminded yourself of the resentment you held, deep down. Reminded yourself of how they had failed you, separated themselves from you, your vision, and the suffering of the good people here, in Hewn City— your city. Rhysand's city.
Ignoring his original words, you looked at Rhysand with the hint of a wicked grin on your face.
"Where’s your child bride? I heard she’s reading at the same level as your babe. You must be overjoyed."
Rhysand's expression tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface. The mention of his mate touched a clear nerve, and for a brief moment, you reveled in the discomfort you had caused. It was a twisted satisfaction, a way to regain some sliver of control in this unexpected encounter.
His temper flared, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability replaced by a presence of anger that you knew all too well. He bit down on his frustration, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure. But you pressed on.
“I’m only kidding, take a joke, Rhysand. 500 years and you still have the emotional regulation of a teenager. Nice to see some things don’t change."
Rhysand's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and confusion, observing you and your wall of icy nonchalance. His name sounded foreign on your lips, spoken with such malice and distaste. Even the last time he had seen you, during a bloody war against Hybern, you had not been so venomous. This was a fact you both thought of as you stood here, now, in front of one another again. You moved gracefully through the room, ignoring their presence, and opened a small box that sat on your table. The delicate aroma of sugar wafted through the air. You took a seat.
Azriel and Rhysand exchanged glances. Your fingers idly played with the box, an ornate creation that held delicate, candied treats. With an almost casual indifference, you brought one of the sweet confections to your mouth, savoring the taste as if the weight of their presence meant nothing to you. You could feel the tension building in the atmosphere, heightened by their growing sense of agitation and frustration. It radiated off of them like heat. You welcomed it with open arms, like a freezing child in the cold.
"These are the loveliest desserts,” You explained, bringing the candy close to your face with an examining eye, “Hard to come across here. But I know a guy.”
“Want one?" you offered, dropping your candy back into the box and extending it toward Azriel, whose stoic expression remained unchanged.
"What? Doggy can’t take a treat?" You taunted with a measured smile. You didn’t miss the slight flare of his nostrils, or the way his shadows began to snake up his arms, angry and riled up.
A tense silence lingered as Azriel remained perfectly unmoving, his eyes holding a depth of attentiveness that made you uncomfortable. But the discomfort within you sought distraction, and you continued with your mockery. You waved your hands in the air as a dismissal.
"Bah, you guys are no fun."
The room felt charged as you baited them, your attempts to deflect the gravity of their visit becoming slowly evident in every casual gesture.
Rhysand's frustration reached a boiling point, and he took a step forward, shifting the conversation.
"We didn't come here for sweets and jests. We came for you."
You chuckled, a sound that held a bitter edge. "Me? You must be desperate, Rhysand."
A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes, swiftly replaced by a steely resolve. "There are rumors of rebellion here,” He took a pause, glancing around the room as if he was contemplating continuing. He spoke again, “But, I'm dealing with a larger threat that has me on the defense. I cannot afford an uprising."
Your laughter cut through the air like a blade. "Is the idea of civil unrest among your people an inconvenience? My, what an issue, must be terrible."
Rhysand's patience waned, his features hardening. "Stop this, Y/N. We need your help to prevent a disaster."
You leaned back against your furniture, your eyes narrowing as you regarded him with a chilling indifference. "I've heard nothing about any unrest. You've wasted a trip."
Rhysand's gaze bore into yours, an unspoken challenge. "Azriel has been in Hewn City, gathering information. He's heard the rumors. I know you're lying."
In that moment, a silent battle waged within you. The desire to help, to make a difference, warred against the fear of exposing yourself to the dangers lurking beyond your sanctuary. The memories of the past, the reasons you returned, echoed in your mind. You wanted to help, but you knew their presence could unravel the delicate life you had crafted.
Rhysand's voice softened, a genuine plea beneath the layers of frustration. "Y/N, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that?"
Then, his eyes softened, sensing a crack in your facade. Inner turmoil clouded your eyes as you locked gazes with him. The conflict within you played out in the subtle tremor of your fingers, a telltale sign of something bubbling beneath your icy exterior. But as quickly as it manifested, you shut it down, fast enough to resolve Rhys of his attentive eyes. He swallowed and fixed his composure.
"Azriel has gained information that it's not just a rise against me. There are whispers of a rebellion against Keir himself. I need you to listen for information from your father."
Your father. A wave of nausea rippled throughout your body and you clenched your jaw in response. The title sounded strange coming from Rhysand, a stark reminder of your place here, of your place in his family. No, no. You thought. I will not let them see me falter.
Rhysand continued, "Azriel has gathered intelligence, but we need someone on the inside. We need you."
A cynical smile now played on your lips as you taunted them, "Maybe it's time for a change. The mighty High Lord struggling to keep control – how novel."
Azriel, who had maintained a cold silence until now, spoke up for the first time, taking a heavy step forward towards where you sat.
"We both know you do not mean that."
You turned your gaze to him, eyes dark. "And what do you know about what I mean, Azriel? You don't know anything about me."
Rhysand put a hand out in front of Azriel’s form, biting back his retort. The room hung heavy as you finally declared, "You've overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to leave."
Rhysand's eyes met yours with a determined glint.
"I will be back. Family does not give up."
His words pulled out a surge of anger bubbling within you. Family? Without a second thought, you stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. "Family, huh?" Your voice dripped with bitterness, and you moved toward him, anger etched on your face.
But before you could reach him, Rhysand winnowed away with a controlled fury, leaving Azriel lingering.
Azriel stood still, his eyes slightly narrowed, his brows furrowed at you. You met his gaze and felt a wave of guilt through your body, filling the hole where your fury once was a second before. If you didn’t know any better, it seemed as if Azriel was….. Disappointed? Hurt? But you stabilized yourself, pushing the observation away. Your anger, raw and unfiltered, had an intensity that took even him by surprise. He held your gaze. Then, like a wisp of darkness, he too disappeared, leaving you alone with the remnants of unresolved tension and the taste of bittersweet candied treats lingering in the air.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
a/n: hello hello!! welcome to my lil new fic!! im new here and i have no idea what im doing but i hope at least one person enjoys what has become my creative fictional baby. when i tell you this story has a place in my HEART....y/n here is multilayered and complex and flawed but that is why i love her!! serving cunt 24/7!!!
tumblr scares me so any feedback is so very loved and any advice is great too!! mwuah
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wisteriabookss · 3 years
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Everything wrong with ACOSF
- A c-section would kill Feyre and is impossible to do, yet when Cassian’s guts were literally hanging out of him he can get sewn up just fine?
- Rhysand upset = Feyre blowjob. Cassian upset = Nesta blowjob. Apparently there’s only one way to use our mouths to cheer up our partners.
- Gwyn mentioned multiple times that the priestesses have therapists . . .  so why doesn’t that extend beyond the library? Is that so we reserve the illusion that Feyre’s art lessons are the only therapy needed for war? 
- Amren
- SJM retconned how Rhys’s powers get passed down. In the first 3 books it was only passed down to any family member/relative, and now it can be passed to a random stranger. what was the point of this?
- am i really supposed to believe that Gwynn, Emerie, and Nesta had the power to fight off novice Illyrians in the Rite, who have been trained for hundreds of years, when they’ve only been training for a few months? how does this logically make any sense? 
- that whole High King bullshit, chile please.
- Nyx is a terrible name, sorry. Shit does not roll off any tongue. 
- oh, did I mention Amren?
- The stupid colloquialisms. This worlds been alive for eons, and they don’t have words to describe depression, anxiety, or PTSD other than trauma, yet Cassian knows what lactic acid is and what it means?
- the way there is apparently no way to fix Emeries wings that are still intact, yet Cassian was able to basically regrow his after they had been described as shredded wet paper??
- so was it because Cassian was doing all the pining the last three books that Nesta had to do all of it in this one?
- sorry, just real quick, have I mentioned Amren?
- even after all that healing Nesta still thinks herself undeserving of Cassian’s love as if he’s been a saint the whole way through
- I’m sorry but every time Nesta went, “Cassian is good, Cassian is brave, Cassian is honorable,” i’m sitting over her like, did you forget that time when he called you unlovable? 
- why oh why did miss sjm feel the need to repeat the “your mine-im yours” line with Nessian like Feysand? Its WEIRD.
- Nesta getting on her knees to apologize to Amren when Amren has been nothing but a bitch. Nesta using Amren as a shield against her problems didn’t warrant her being described as a pathetic waste of life, sorry not sorry.
- absolutely no character arc for Cassian
- Elain accusing Nesta that she only cared about how her own trauma affected her, after Nesta just tried to protect Elain from further trauma by telling her to not look for the Trove.
- Rhys refusing to believe the good in Nesta after repeatedly seeing signs of her changing. mans literally saw inside her mind when she was in the cauldron and went, “Her trauma is … I guessed,” Rhys breathed, “but it was different to feel it.”” and yet he STILL acted like an asshole after presumably understanding what was going on inside her head. 
- the relationship with Mama Archeron should have been flushed out more. It’s obvious Nesta had the best relationship with their mom, and she loved her, so why was this never discussed?
- our woke feminist queen Rhys, who once told Feyre that she is in charge of all her choices and decisions, kept secret the knowledge of her, her babies, and her husbands potential death from her “to not upset her.”
- no one apologized to Nesta?
- Briallyn plot was solved in one page after being stretched for 700 pages.
- We never got a dramatic ass scene where Nesta shows her powers against someone. That silver fire bed scene does not count, and neither does Briallyns death. Neither were big enough to hold a candle to what her power has been described as in the last two books. We DESERVED to see that power dammit.
- Nesta crying over Papa Archeron did not sit right with me. mans left you and your sisters to basically fend for yourselves, and when Nesta finally breaks down it’s over how she couldn’t save him? Not cute.
- Nesta giving back Ataraxia to Rhys, even though it’s not his to give back to, after we just had a whole moment of finding out it meant Inner Peace
- Nesta losing most of her power at the end was just stupid. Her relationship with her power needed it’s own arc as well, and that was stripped away cause of stupid Feysand and their stupid decisions, coupled with SJM’s inability to outline her books properly. 
this is all for now, comment down below if you guys wanna add anything :)
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gopeachllama · 3 years
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Why I think Feysand were OOC in ACOSF
I hope that no one misunderstands from the title but let me say this is a 100% PROfeysand post. so if you hated feysand even before acosf, then this post isn't for you.
So i've seen a lot of interesting theories about feysand's and in particular rhys' behaviour and choices throughout acosf. and while alot of them seemed possible and may have been the case canonically speaking, even as a feysand stan i just couldn't seem to wrap my head around some of the things they said and did in the book. they just both seem OOC, its the only pausible explanation for me.
To understand why feysand were OOC in the book we have to look at this through a narrative perspective. as in we have to ask why would the author write the character/s in this way?
a quick overview of what a character arc is
so there can be a lot of variations of a character arc in a story but the basics is as follows (how does the character go from point 'a' to point 'b'):
the 'big lie' - the views/beliefs/actions the character has at the start which will be challenged throughout the story (this is point 'a')
the 'incident' - a plot point in which starts development of the character. something that spurs the character into action, this most ofter happens when they are placed in an unfamiliar situation. this usuallyy is the intial challenge to their 'big lie'. at this point the story will move forward and theres no going back.
the midpoint - the character changes conciously or subconciously, they start to recognise their own flaws in the 'big lie'.
world collaspes - this is usually on the heels of a victory, the character reaches the lowest point in their journey. they finally confront 'the big lie' and forces to stop this deception they inflict on themselves. they can destroy it or it will destroy them.
the climax - the reason for the story. the reason why the character had to take this journey in order to get to this moment. the moment that the character will decide once and for all whether they will go forward to point 'b' or regress back to point 'a'
the resolution - the character reaches point 'b'. their view/beliefs/actions have changed, they no longer believe in the 'big lie'.
So obvisouly the main character in acosf is Nesta. What sjm does in her books is that every plot point and development of secondary characters is in service to the arc of the main character. None of the character's outside of Nesta have their own development. Not even Cassian, any sort of changes or developments he undergoes is in service to Nesta (a complete missed opportunity for Cassian but that a whole other point). And before anyone tries to say otherwise, you can have development for characters even if they are secondary ones (and for a book that is 800+ pages long it is definitely possible). An example is with his can also be seen with Gwyn. Her leaving the library for the first time was a huge moment for the character, but she did so, in order to comfort Nesta after her big fight with Cassian. It was also so that Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie could all be together in Illyria so they could be kidnapped and forced to enter the blood rite (where the final showdown occurs with Nesta and the villan).
so what has this got to do with feysand and why are they OOC?
In fact the entire plot with feyre's pregnancy was made to give chracter developments for Nesta. There was nothing written in the book that suggested any developments for feyre and rhys. it did nothing for them. Nesta needed to become central to the story and the only way sjm thought to keep feyre side lined was to make her pregrnant. It was also just lazy writing and world building bc there is no way that rhys would have though of this when he and feyre were trying for a baby.
SIN #1 The Shields
Rhys practicing shields (shield thats doesn't even allow anyone to even touch her) on feyre, which she just allows. the book explains because of the fact that there is more danger to her now that she's pregnant. Narratively, this would make sense if there is a payoff. Like later in the story if feyre was in physical danger and the shield saves her or if the shield became a detriment to her in some way. But no nothing like this happens. Rhys 'practices' the shield on her and thats it. Rhys, who was the same person that trusted feyre enough defend herself against the weaver. It was totally out of character that he would shield her to the point that Cassian can't even kiss her on the cheek (sounds familiar huh). and the same goes for feyre, who has no problem with this (*cough* tamlin locking her up *cough*). Thats is some OOC behaviour.
So what were the point of the shields? well since sjm made it canon that fae can smell when a female is pregnant, the biggest way they came into play was in the scene when rhys lifted it long enough so that everyone could sense that that feyre was pregnant. And It could have been just that, feyre and rhys were expecting a baby, and Nesta can go along with her development, they did not need to intersect. But it did, and we'll come back to that later. This scene is a lighthearted moment in the book, one of the rare few where all the characters are happy and celebrating a good thing. acofas we knew that rhys and feyre decided to try for a baby, and seeing it pay off here was enjoyable for the readers.
But what else does this scene do? through Nesta's perspective, we can read her thoughts on it, and though she doesn't reveal much its an important character moment for her. the readers can see that she can feel happiness for someone else beyond the self-loathing she guards herself with, it shows that she is a character worth rooting for.
SIN #2 Rhys concealing the dangers of the pregnancy from feyre
oof this one is a doosey. this was the most baffling thing to come out of acosf for me. there is literally no reason or explanation that would make sense for rhys to lie to feyre like that. It offers no development for the two character it affects the most: rhys and feyre. there no fallout on rhys' end for lying to her, and there is no turmoil for feyre such as falling into depair like we told she would (the whole reason that rhys was hiding it in the first place).
When Nesta finds out that the pregnancy was most likely going to kill feyre and the baby. instead of Nesta disagreeing and urging Rhys to tell feyre, she doesn't say anything and forms a temporary truce with him, a character she has always had conflict with. It also serves as the incident that allows Nesta to have her 'world collapse' moment in her character arc. How else was Nesta going to realise what a shitty person is was being if she didn't do something so absolutely shitty? in a fit of rage, Nesta reveals to feyre that the pregnancy was going to kill both her and the baby. she get taken away on a hike in illyria (because???) and she reaches rock bottom after she comes to term with what she did. the story is taken away from velaris and the inner circle, and any conflict and resolution that happens between feyre and rhys, if it even happened at all, happens off page. again furthering my point about the pregnancy having no impact on the two characters is affects the most. After Nesta's fleeting moment of enlightenment, and her swordplay sex marathon with Cassian (urgh) she returns to velaris and nothing has changed between rhys and feyre. there isn't really much of a development with Nesta's relationship with feyre, their 'reconciliation' occurs all of less than one page and doesn't even happen out loud, just mind to mind. Now that Nesta has had her important character moment, nothing else matters (again lazy writing).
SIN #3 Everyone dies
ok so yes everyone has said their two cents about this and i agree with it. Feyre and nyx had to die so that Nesta could have her climax moment. It is the climax of the story since it is the big story development right before the resolution. and about the bargain - feysand decided in acofas that they were going to try for a baby. meaning that it was after this decision that they struck the bargain that they would die together. so at some point they would have thought of the fact they would have a child/children when the both die. im sorry but do they seem like the kind of ppl that would make a suicide pact even if it meant leaving their children behind? TOTALLY OOC for me. and i dont know i guess also the stakes weren't high enough with just the threat of feyre and nyx dying.
So feyre and nyx are dead and rhys will soon follow and Nesta intervenes to save them. Its also a self-sacrificing moment bc she has to give up her powers in order to do this... Showing that she does truely love her family and the depths of her powers. (seriously idc how you stan or hate how does anyone this good book?). don't doubt that in the future books sjm will find a way for Nesta to get her powers back (whatever they are (pure death WHAT DOES THAT MEAN???))
So Nesta saves the day, everyone is fine and nothing has changed except Nesta is nice now probably. the end.
welp this got way longer that i expected but anyways long story short there was nothing about the pregnancy that gave development to feysand characters and it was all for the development of the main character.
i don't claim acosf!feysand and sjm better fucking leave them alone in the rest of the books.
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thespianbooks · 3 years
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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter Seventeen//
Masterlist
(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;
...I’m sorry ^^;
X
Something wasn't right.
"It doesn't make sense," Cassian said; all of us gathered around the map laid out on the large table in the library. "I've rotated my most trusted legion across every single Illyrian camp since the summit, including the ones we know haven't sided with Kallon—just in case, and nothing."
Azriel shook his head, as equally astonished as Cassian was at the lack of intel they had been working tirelessly to achieve in the last couple of weeks.
"My spies haven't found anything either, on any front." He said, hazel eyes growing hard as they scanned over the maps and reports spread out before us.
Two months had officially passed since our summit meeting and our tenure of peace was now plagued by stress. In the months that passed, Cassian and Azriel worked together to keep a watchful eye on the traitors in our court—the latter keeping his network of spies focused on Keir and his Darkbringer army, while the former kept a strict watch on the rebellious Illyrian camp lords. As our second and third in command, Mor and Amren not only attended to their duties in Velaris, but also visited the Hewn City on mine and Rhys's behalf—a show of force and distraction while Azriel's spies lurked in the shadows. In the last few weeks, Rhys and I corresponded with the other High Lords and Eris, updating them on whatever intel we managed to gather, and them offering us any information they might have regarding the Autumn Court and promising to keep alert on their end.
But as of late, there was nothing. No movement whatsoever from Keir, Kallon, or Beron.
We initially received a report a couple of weeks following the summit that our steward had called for a stall in his plans, and because of that we assumed the trio were biding their time in order to regroup and organize new plans to strike before my due date—now a short twenty-odd weeks away, but it was taking them too long.
No, something definitely wasn't right, and we all knew it.
"Is it possible they're folding back on the coup?" Elain asked, amid the tense silence that had befallen us.
Nesta placed a hand on the back of her chair, standing just to her side with Cassian on the other. "Keir wouldn't just give up on killing Feyre, the High Lord, or their child," she said, as blunt as ever.
I grimaced and Mor threw her a disapproving stare, but Amren loosed a long-held breath through her nose.
"The girl is right. They aren't pulling back on their plans now, but they are plotting something." she said, turning her silver gaze to Rhys and me.
I sighed, an idle hand running along the line of my belly—a considerable size now that I was nearing the end of the second stage of pregnancy. The baby inside was mercifully calm in light of the topics we discussed, which I was thankful for since my other symptoms weren't; a dull headache creeping in at my temples since I awoke this morning, and my lower back muscles sore with my new weight.
I drummed my fingers on the tabletop, readjusting myself in the chair I sat in for the hundredth time since the start of our meeting. "Could Keir be plotting something on his own?" I asked as Rhys offered me a hand up, wanting to help mitigate some of the ache in my back and hips temporarily.
"It's possible," he answered as I took his hand, standing with a heavy sigh.
I kneaded a sore spot on my back as I turned to look at Cassian and Azriel—who were watching me with equal concern and glancing at my swollen stomach. "Your reports say that Kallon hasn't corresponded much lately with Keir?" I asked, addressing Azriel.
The shadowsinger cast a wary glance at my mate, something they had all begun doing recently anytime they had bad news to share—as if they were afraid the information would harm me or the baby. The only ones who didn't tip-toe around me were Amren and Nesta, and I was grateful for it. As increasingly uncomfortable as I was becoming the more my belly grew, my mood swings now tended to lean more and more towards irritation. The last thing I needed was everyone trying to handle me as if I were made of porcelain.
I sighed in frustration. "You don't need to coddle me, Az. None of you do. Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't handle reading reports or operating during the threat of a coup." I snapped, harsher than I meant to.
I felt Rhys rest a hand on the small of my back; knowing he gave the spymaster a curt nod of approval, and Azriel, Mother bless him, dipped his head in apology. "You're right. Most of the messengers sent between them with letters or verbal messages have come from Kallon but have gone ignored in the last few weeks."
"From what I've seen, the stupid sot has been feeling slighted by that bastard and he's called off sending those imploring letters to the camp lords who haven't yet sided with him." Cassian added, "He's waiting for Keir."
"Because he knows he needs them," Mor scoffed.
"The steward is definitely concocting something," Amren said coolly and motioned to my sisters.
"Tell them what you saw, girl," she said to Elain.
We all turned to her, Nesta going rigid at her side—nails digging into the wood of Elain's chair.
"You saw something?" I asked her.
She frowned as she nodded, scanning the other faces in the room. "I had a vision the other night, of Vassa. She's our ally so I didn't think much of it at first, but last night the vision came to me again and it was...different," she explained, her eyes beginning to go vacant as she recalled the details.
"What happened in the vision?" Azriel asked, trying to gently coax her back in the conversation.
Her eyes were still distant as she turned her attention to him, as if he grounded her during these moments. "I saw just her face at first, she looked distraught as she gave some kind of warning. I couldn't make out the exact words," she said, shame quivering her voice as she looked at her lap.
"That's okay, Elain." Azriel said, stepping closer to her side and to my surprise, Nesta didn't flinch. "What else?" he asked again.
Elain sighed shakily. "Then, last night...I saw her face again, giving the same warning, and then...a weeping firebird sweeping over land before setting fire to it."
My eyes went wide, turning to look at Rhys as we both recalled the connection her new vision had with the previous one from months ago. A great-winged animal sweeping over a grassy knoll. Only now we knew that animal was a firebird, one that Elain also warned us of during the war. We all must've had the same realization, because within seconds we exchanged worried glances. Silent conversations passing mind-to-mind between my mate and his brothers, as well as Mor and Amren.
"I'm sorry," Elain whispered, staring at her lap again. "For not saying anything sooner, I just assumed her warning was about the coup. I didn't get any other details until I saw it in my dreams."
"You didn't do anything wrong Elain," I said reassuringly. "We're all working with the information we have."
Rhys nodded. "Cassian and Azriel will go to the Mortal Lands and check in with Vassa, Jurian and Lucien. I'll send a letter ahead of them, and we can hope we get there before Keir does."
"You think Keir will move against the Mortal Lands?" Nesta asked, silent horror hidden behind those blue-grey eyes.
"He knows of the ties Lucien has with them. If he can take them down and sever whatever bond Lucien has with the Queen before they can ally with us against him, that's an advantage for him with the Autumn Court," Cassian explained.
"We need to monitor them as well," I added quickly. "In case Beron decides to work on Keir's behalf to sweeten the pot in whatever deal they've struck."
"I'll send my spies," Azriel said, nodding at me in acknowledgement.
"You'll both leave tomorrow," Rhys ordered them. His violet eyes were hardened, wings flaring slightly as they began detailing out new plans.
Go with them. I urged through the bond.
The hand that held my waist only tightened slightly. I can't leave you behind, Feyre, not with something like this brewing
I'll be safe with Mor and Amren here in Velaris.
I'm going to take you and your sisters to the Cabin until we get word back from Cassian and Azriel. Mor and Amren can guard Velaris
Or you can leave me and my sisters at the Cabin and meet up with Azriel and Cassian.
He gave me a weary look, but I squeezed his hand. The three of us will be safe there. No one outside our family knows of its location, and no one can winnow inside. We'll be taken care of until you three return, and you can keep me updated.
I saw the contemplation swirl in his violet eyes, knew that behind his adamant shields he saw the sense in my words but was still reluctant. His hand came to rest on my stomach carefully, earning a delightful kick from our son—who seemed to have awoken during our silent exchange.
I can't leave you. And even through the bond I could hear the strain in his voice.
I sighed, but before I could argue further, Cassian cleared his throat. "We'd be better suited if we had the High Lord at our side, since the High Lady is incapacitated at the moment."
Azriel nodded in agreement, "If there is a threat to the Mortal Lands, we'll need a more competent diplomat present to warn and ready them for the strike."
Rhys's gaze hardened again as he met his brothers urging stares. They knew as well as I did that my mate was on edge, his nerves only growing more unsettled in recent weeks, making him more protective of me and our child. He hardly left my side at all these past few months, so the opportunity to go out and perform his duties as High Lord would help alleviate the tension growing through our bond once again.
I squeezed his hand reassuringly, those hardened violet eyes growing softer as they met with mine. We'll be waiting here, safe, until you come back. Go warn our friends in the Mortal Lands, and then we can finally take care of Keir.
His eyes landed on my stomach once again before he loosed a breath through his nostrils and nodded in acknowledgement at his brothers.
XXX
"Do you think she's alright?" Elain asked.
Her quiet inquiry interrupted my stormy thoughts as I stared out the window of the sitting room. Only a couple of hours had passed since the Illyrian brothers carried us up to the safety of the cabin; Cassian holding Nesta, Azriel taking a flushed Elain, and Rhys hauling me and my swollen belly. I had made a sly comment about the burden of my new weight to Rhys in the hopes to ease his apprehensiveness and was glad when he smugly reassured me of his otherworldly strength with his trademark feline grin, before depositing me on the steps leading to the Cabin. My heart tugged at the memory of the two of us having escaped here only weeks before, but we all knew this was the safest place for me and my sisters at the moment. Mor and Amren remained in Velaris, as we had all agreed on, and moved to monitor the city from the House of Wind as an extra precautionary step.
I turned away from the window, having stared at the mountains surrounding us since Rhys kissed me and my belly goodbye. "Vassa is fierce, and well-guarded thanks to Lucien and Jurian," I reassured her.
"She's still got that curse," Nesta scoffed from her place on the loveseat across from where Elain sat.
Elain frowned and I glared at my eldest sister. "Yes, but thanks to the bargain father made for her temporary release, we've been able to extend it and she hasn't been forced into her firebird form in over a decade," I explained.
"But my visions haven't been wrong yet. What if she is forced into it?" Elain pressed.
I sighed and crossed over to where she sat, using the arm of the chair to help lower myself onto the plush seat—noting how cautiously Nesta eyed my movements. "We still don't know what your vision meant. Perhaps Vassa shifts into her firebird form in order to aid us in the coup?"
"She was weeping as she set the fire," Nesta interjected.
I sighed and pressed a hand against my temple, messaging it lightly in an attempt to relieve the stress beginning to build up. Elain leaned over to rest her hand over mine gently, "Let's talk about something else. You were right, Vassa is strong and we won't know anything until Rhysand, and the others return."
I nodded in agreement with a faint smile, moving my hand to rest on my stomach. "How have you been feeling? You've been so busy serving as High Lady that Nesta and I haven't seen you much lately," she asked.
Nesta interrupted before I had a chance to reassure her. "You need to allow yourself more time to rest. You're nearing the end stages of your pregnancy, and the strain of all of this isn't good for your youngling. Let that High Lord and assistant of yours take care of matters from now on," she scolded.
Elain and I balked at her, equally shocked that she was being so stern with me again. I had noticed fairly early in my pregnancy that Nesta was growing increasingly vigilant of me—concerning herself more with the welfare of the child I carried, and after what Cassian revealed to me weeks ago, I now understood why. Despite her brute facade, she cared about me and worried about the fate of my child; perhaps as any older sister would.
I swallowed the irrational tears and sob that built up in my throat, a reaction I now involuntarily had every so often, and sat up a little straighter. "It's not that simple," I reasoned. "I'm still High Lady and given the concerning reports and lack of intel we've obtained in the last couple weeks, I've had to work together with Rhys to reach out to the other courts and meet with the rest of the inner circle."
"They're all thinking the same thing, except maybe Amren. They want you to rest more and let them handle this situation," Nesta went on. "They're just too scared to hurt your feelings or upset you, or whatever idiotic reason it is, not to tell you."
"Oh, but you aren't afraid to do any of that, are you?" I asked a bit bitterly—beginning to second guess my earlier sentiments.
"I'm not, because I see the toll this pregnancy is having on you and unlike the others, I'm not afraid to bring it up and say what needs to be said." She argued, hands placed on her lap with striking elegance—even though her words were anything but.
I hardened my stare at her, our identical blue-grey eyes cold with contempt; hers out of unyielding concern, and mine out of...reluctant understanding. It was no secret that my pregnancy was difficult, increasingly so since the early stages. There were periods of time when I felt fine, energetic and able to accomplish multiple tasks in a day, but there were still days where the lingering nausea and fatigue left me in bed for hours at a time. That, accompanied by the new onslaught of pelvic pains, back aches, and my rush of hormones caused me to be frequently disgruntled. Rhys, being the overbearing mother-hen he always tended to be whenever I felt the least bit poorly, did his best to console me. The others did as well, to the point where I believed they were coddling me. It wasn't until now that I realized they only wanted me to remain at ease; knowing the risk of any stress on me or the baby could be dangerous. Madja had warned us of what complications could arise from that burden, and I knew now that they were all just trying to prevent it.
My gaze cracked as tears sprang back into my eyes and turned away as they burned. I took a few steadying breaths, Elain's hand coming to my shoulder to help soothe me as she slid closer to me on our shared seat. "I didn't try insisting I go with them to the Mortal Lands or anything. I'm letting them handle the situation, but as High Lady I need to oversee the operations."
"Yes, but you're burdening yourself with worry." Elain offered softly. "You've been taking on work that you could leave to your mate or the others."
"Like that meeting with Tamlin." Nesta reminded me and I frowned, remembering the toll that trip had taken on me at the time.
"Or insisting you attend all the meetings on the reports Cassian and Azriel have gathered. Rhys can attend to those and fill you in later," Elain added.
"The point is that you need to delegate more. You were off to a good start after the summit meeting, coming here with your mate and spending time with the others, but you've overloaded yourself far too much over the last couple of weeks." Nesta concluded.
I sighed, leaning back to rest against the plush seat and ran my hands over my protruding stomach, feeling my son beginning to stir from the occasional nap he took in the warmth and protection my womb offered. Every point they brought up was right; while we all had allowed ourselves a moment of peace following the summit, I had taken the anxiety of the recent reports Cassian and Azriel gathered and threw myself back into working to find a solution. Rhys had as well, but I knew there were times he wished I would retire to our room or at least sit when my aches and pains reared its ugly head.
"I know you two are right, it's just...difficult, at times. I am High Lady; my duty is to my court—alongside Rhys." I explained.
"But he isn't pregnant. You are, and your first duty is to the child you carry," Nesta insisted.
"The child who will be the heir to the Night Court," Elain said.
I nodded in understanding, but before I could agree with them, there was a frantic pounding at the door, followed by Mor's panicked voice behind it.
"Feyre, it's us. Let us in," she said.
Nesta was the first to stand and rather than take the hand I stuck out to help me up, she strode over to the cabin door, checked to make sure it was really Mor the voice belonged to and opened it. Elain helped me to my feet as Mor and Amren strode into the room with equal grim expressions. I noted both of their clothes were dirty, some scrapes and fresh cuts healing on their own that decorated their face and arms—my heart squeezed.
"What's wrong, what happened?" I asked, my voice sounding strangled.
Mor's brown eyes were broken as they met mine and she swallowed, "Vassa showed up on the front steps of the house, beaten and bruised, and crying...as she warned us to leave."
My heart nearly stopped, and I felt Elain go rigid beside me; her hand coming to cover her mouth in horror. "We tried to ask her what was wrong, and what happened back in the Mortal Lands to have brought her here now, but-" Mor began but stopped, her throat bobbing.
"She kept warning us to leave before anyone got hurt, before you got hurt, and her face went blank. She turned and transitioned to her firebird form, leaping to the skies...and began setting Velaris aflame," Amren finished bitterly.
I couldn't hold steady on my feet and I stumbled back into Elain's arms as my head began to spin—speechless. Velaris was on fire. Velaris, my home, was under attack again.
"Did you...is she...what…?" I couldn't even manage my thoughts as Elain held me upright.
Mor stepped forward and took hold of my arms, steadying me. "She disappeared after a few minutes, but not before setting many of the buildings along the Sidra on fire."
The Rainbow. Vassa had set the Rainbow of Velaris aflame.
"We sent word to Rhysand and the others but haven't heard anything back yet. I also sent word to Varian, perhaps Tarquin can help put out the flames," Amren said.
"W-What?" I asked breathlessly, my chest heaving. "The fires haven't been put out yet?!"
"It's spread quickly, we're doing our best, but without Cassian and Azriel to gather the Illyrian force…" Mor explained and our eyes met in mutual understanding.
I was the one they could turn to—rely on.
"Take me back," I ordered, still reeling. "I'll put out the flames myself. We can't wait for Tarquin or anyone else."
"Feyre, you can't use-" Nesta began but I snapped at her with a feral growl I hardly believed came from my own throat.
"This is my court. My home. I am High Lady and I demand you take me back now." I said, addressing them all.
Mor and Amren exchanged hesitant glances before the former spoke up. "I'd have to winnow you there Feyre, and you know the effect it has on you. You could faint and have to recuperate, there isn't enough time for that. Even if you could use your powers," she tried to reason.
"So we wait here and do nothing?!" I exclaimed, turning away from her hold on me and striding to the window.
I could see nothing from here, but as I closed my eyes the memories of the last attack flashed behind my lids. The screams of agony and despair as my people were attacked—ripped to shreds by the army of the Attor from Hybern. Nausea roiled in my gut as I reached down the bond.
Rhys. Where are you?
I was met with silence, and I could only guess what horrors my mate and his brothers were facing in the Mortal realm—for him to block me out. If Vassa had been here, who knew what threat had been made and who had orchestrated it all. My heart pounded as my power awakened inside of me, boiling in my veins and I tried not to tap into them as I felt the slight twinge of pain in my abdomen—until thoughts of Velaris kept invading my thoughts. The screams echoing in my head, trying to imagine those beautiful buildings now on fire. Thoughts of Ressina and our studio, of the children she was teaching, those innocents.
Everyone in Velaris was innocent, and they were on fire. I had to do something.
Dosomething.Dosomething.Dosomething
I couldn't hear whatever conversation was happening between my sisters, Mor, and Amren as I lingered by the window. All I could do was turn back to them, briefly meeting Mor's gaze before those brown eyes widened in realization. She opened her mouth to protest, but she was too late. In the blink of an eye, I became darkness—tapping into my power that had gone untouched for months, I winnowed onto the front courtyard of the estate that sat along the Sidra's edge. I stumbled forward on my hands and knees as my head spun, my ears roaring with the blood rushing to my head and it took every effort within me not to faint—to seize the darkness that threatened to overcome me and push it back.
My heart pounded, the pain thundering throughout my entire body, resounding excruciatingly in my head as I forced myself to stay conscious and I was finally able to raise my eyes to the nightmare before me. I saw the orange and red of the flames reflected in the river first, barely able to hear the screaming as I saw each and every building lining the Sidra ablaze. From my position in the courtyard, I could see the figures of citizens scrambling to put out the flames; could see the number of buildings extending backwards that were already lit. I sobbed as another painful twinge ripped through my abdomen, causing me to turn my head and vomit in the grass.
Sobbing again, I closed my eyes and felt my power simmering rather than boiling. Just enough to breathe it into my core as I raised a single hand in the air and slammed it back onto the ground with a lethal smack. Once again, as it had so many years ago, the Sidra rose in response and I summoned just enough strength to lean back onto my knees—raising both of my hands in the air above my head as I became the river. Shaking, I slowly stood, keeping my arms raised as a wall of water rose with me; expanding deep and wide before I walked forward.
Suddenly, it felt as if my abdomen was being ripped to shreds and I screamed, doubling over and sending that wall of water forward and over those buildings. I didn't have time to pray to the Mother, the Cauldron, anything in hopes that it had been enough to snuff out the flames before I was seized again with the pain that tore through my core. I gasped in breaths as I gripped my stomach with one hand and fell onto my knees—catching myself with the other.
No, no, no. Please…
I felt a trickle of liquid that quickly began to spread at the apex of my thighs and sobbed as I reached a hand under the band of my pants and touched my thigh. I screamed again as the agony ripped through my abdomen again and fell onto my side. I felt the darkness beginning to ebb around my vision, the pain going with it as I raised that shaky hand to my face. The last thing I saw before my world went entirely dark was bright red blood coating my fingers.
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wisteriabookss · 3 years
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My ACOSF Review (2/5 Stars)
Please respect my opinions. Not everything I say will be praiseful or nice. While I liked a lot of this book, a lot of it frustrated and bothered me. 
This review contains spoilers. Read at your own risk. 
This review will be more of an overall impression, and I will get more in depth about certain characters in future posts. 
I eventually got into the plot of the book, but I don’t think it was as great or creative as it could’ve been. I feel like SJM recycled ideas she’s already used to create the storyline. A quest to find a magic object that can stop a war and save the world? That sentence applies to both ACOWAR and ACOSF. It’s even more disappointing when you know there were other routes the plot could’ve taken but were eventually scratched. It was the perfect set up for an Illyrian mountain setting, it was written in canon, and, unsurprisingly, SJM retconned and changed it. 
The Valkyrie plot was cool, if a bit forced and out of place. Nesta barely starts training, and all of a sudden she wants to recreate a powerful band of female warriors that we’ve never heard of in the context of this world? Honestly, it feels like SJM watched Thor: Ragnarok, and was like, “Yes, that’s what I’m gonna do.” I thought Helions winged horses would come into play with that, but I guess we’ll have to see.
I thought the Blood Rite plot was gone, but we got it in the end, even though it was rushed. The most beautiful parts of the book happened during the Rite, so I’m glad we got to see those.
The ending of Briallyn was so swift I literally had to go back a page to make sure I read it right. Literally one page, and she’s killed. I expected more. I can’t say I'm surprised by how rushed her death was when I knew the Feysand trouble was approaching, and the number of pages left was getting smaller. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that SJM would save Rhys, Feyre, and their baby. Out of the entire ensemble in Kingdom of Ash, she only had the heart to kill Gavriel, who wasn’t too much of a main character. There was no way in hell she would do that to Feysand. 
I’m sorry, but I do not like the name Nyx. Imagine calling someone Nyx? Did she originally have it as Nick, but just needed to put an X? My eyes were rolling so hard when I read it. Just put an ‘O’ in front of it and end our misery, though I still would’ve rolled my eyes at that name too. The name just reminds me of all the blogger moms who put X’s in their child’s names for dramatic effect that ends up looking like they can’t spell.
I also didn’t appreciate the out of touch colloquialisms in this book either. Prythian doesn’t have a name for anxiety, depression, or PTSD, but they know what lactic acid means?
The amount of sex in this book was something we had been warned to expect, and I think due to the fastness of me reading this book (finished in two sittings), it made it feel like the sex was happening every other page, which it basically was. I’m not going to be mad though because a) it was well written, b) I didn’t feel like it harmed the plot too much, and c) this is the only Nessian smut we’re going to see in canon. But that threesome line with Az. . . y'all know which one I’m talking about. . . the one with the details about certain positions. . .  chile um anyways let’s move on. 
I called it months ago that Emerie would either be Mor or Azriel’s love interest, and looks like it’s going to be Mor. SJM’s writing is fairly predictable, especially when it comes to romantic ships, and she couldn’t have been more obvious about the two of them. I will write about Gwyn and Azriel in Azriel’s chapter review (cause that monstrosity needs a post of its own).
Now about Nesta’s healing arc. Some of it was satisfying and others were saddening. I’m happy that Nesta was able to find purpose in her life, and not believe herself to be worthless or pathetic, but strong and powerful. I’m happy she found Gwynn and Emerie; I love their friendship. I love how they stuck by each other no matter what, and saw the good and potential in one another.
However, even by the end of the book, Nesta still thinks herself as undeserving. Of Cassian, of love. She knows she has it, and she's so grateful for it, but she still believes she is undeserving of it, that Cassian is just so much better than her. A part of learning to love and live with yourself is knowing what you deserve, so why SJM took that from her character, I don’t know. I was continuously disappointed when said she was undeserving of anything, even after she had learned and grown from her mistakes. 
Maybe SJM thinks the belief of being undeserving of one's partner is romantic. I’m telling you now, it’s not. All that does is give unnecessary power to a person you believe you are undeserving of, and this leads to unequal power dynamics in a relationship. Rhys was the exact same with Feyre, so I’m guessing it's a theme.
Speaking of romantic themes, the repetition of the “your mine-im yours” line in this book was nauseating. Your going to make Nesta say the exact same thing her sister said when they had sex? Is there nothing else SJM could’ve come up with? It’s just so weird. And I swear to god if I see Elain do the same thing I’m gonna vomit. 
Nesta apologized to Cassian about what she said to him on Solstice in ACOFAS as if he never called her unlovable. As if he never said he didn’t understand why her sisters love her. He never apologized for that. There was so much apologizing from Nesta to Cassian about her calling him a brute, as if Cassian didn’t say he was “shackled” to her after she clearly explained how she feared she would lose her humanity if she accepted the word mate. Not if she accepted him, but the word. 
For Cassian to routinely tell Nesta to, “shut her fucking mouth,” when she used some attitude against Rhys was comical. Rhys has been bad mouthing and disrespecting Nesta this whole time, and when she shows some warranted attitude in return (not even an insult), Cassian rips into her. It doesn’t matter what he did for you, babe. Not everyone has the same experience with Rhys, so Cassian getting angry when Nesta showing anger at the way she was being treated was wrong. Her experience with him does not become invalidated just because Cassian has a good relationship with him.
There wasn’t a character arc for Cassian, which was one of the most disappointing parts of the book. He thinks of himself as inferior and undeserving as well, and by the end of the book it’s not even clear if that stance has changed. We saw him grow into the courtier persona in the meeting with Eris when Tamlin shows up, but we never see it again. I know there were instances in which he stood up for Nesta, but he also very quicky after that became silent in other moments when they were insulting her. The next book isn’t in his pov, but I’m hoping we see him become more confident in himself and make a firmer stance to protect Nesta (although I doubt he’ll need to seeing as how Rhys kisses the ground she walks on now).
Now onto Nesta’s apologies to the IC. I think Nesta apologizing to Feyre was expected, and I’m glad the sisters had that moment. I am, however, upset that there was never a moment where all the sisters sat down, and hashed it out. Talked about what they’d been through, how it affected them, and how it affected their feelings toward each other. After everything that happened between Nesta and Elain, all that hurt, you’re telling me all it took was Nesta to make Elain laugh by saying “fuck you,” and we’re good? It’s lazy writing. 
Elain telling Nesta that she only cared about how her trauma affected her did not sit right with me. Nesta sat by Elain’s side for weeks when she was in the thick of her struggles, and refused to leave her alone for fear that her struggles would eat her up alive. She constantly looked for anything that could help her sister, and never left her unprotected. Nesta and Elain didn’t communicate after the war, for reasons that we now know was because of Nesta’s guilt for Elain being kidnapped. It is not abnormal when a family member has been traumatized by things that have happened to another family member. That’s expected. Ask any family who has lost a child or had a relative go through something horrible.
Elain is acting as if Nesta has only ever been concerned with herself when she’s spent her entire life concerned with Elain. I made a post long ago about how the IC only wanted Nesta to heal for their sake rather than her sake, and there’s so much more evidence for that than for Elain. Elain’s healing process was able to be understood and encouraged by the IC, whereas they had no idea what to do with Nesta. So for Elain to come at Nesta for not caring about her trauma, a second after Nesta was trying to protect her from further trauma by telling her she didn't want her seering for the Trove, was unwarranted.
Speaking about Elain looking for the Trove, what happened there? Elain had this whole speech where she said she wanted to do something and no one could stop her and then we just. . . don’t hear anything about it again? SJM had a perfect opportunity to do something powerful with Elain there, and completely threw it away. 
Nesta’s apology to Amren was extreme, dramatic, and honestly, unnecessary. Amren called Nesta a “pathetic waste of life,” constantly demeaned and degraded her anytime her name was mentioned, and said she did all this because Nesta used her as a shield against her problems and the IC. Seriously? Nesta using Amren as a shield does not warrant that kind of verbal abuse. It doesn't make her a pathetic waste of life. Amren’s been alive for how long? And reacts like that to an obvious side effect of extreme trauma? No ma'am. Nesta getting on her damn knees was too much, and obviously just another moment, like a lot of moments, that SJM felt the need to make dramatic. And then having the audacity to let Amren say to Nesta that, “the struggle with the darkness is worth it,” when she was one of those people who contributed to that darkness is disgusting.
I didn’t like Rhys at all in this book. Even after he saw inside Nesta’s mind about her experience in the cauldron, he was still wary and rude with her. Literally anytime Nesta showed that she was changing, Rhys didn’t change anything about his attitude or behavior towards her. A moment of regret, and then he’s back to being arrogant ass Rhys. Him not telling Feyre about the baby was also extremely stupid. It’s her body, her life, her baby’s life, his life, and she had a right to know what was happening. Not telling her because you didn’t want her to be “upset,” is a dumb excuse. I thought you always promised to let her make her own decisions, Rhys? What happened to that promise? The one that was a hell of a lot better than the stupid bargain ya’ll made? Though Nesta told her out of anger, good on her for telling her sister. Should’ve happened way sooner. His apology to Nesta was the only one that warranted the dramatics. That is what you get on your knees for.
That whole scene about him becoming High King had me throwing the book. Amren telling Rhys that the swords were some sort of mother-mary-cauldron-blessed-hallelujah sign that he was supposed to be High King had me fuming. It’s Nesta’s power. It’s Nesta’s sword. That should have never been a discussion. Not everything is for Rhys. These people are so blinded by their love for him they can’t even see how arrogant he is. To write Nesta giving back Ataraxia made me so angry after we just had a whole moment where we find out it means inner peace. I just hope that all of this is not foreshadowing Rhys becoming High King. I know you love him Sarah, but please don’t.
All in all, this book wasn’t too bad. There were some great moments and some bad moments. I think SJM’s biggest issue in her writing is that she doesn’t outline, or at least doesn't seem to outline, not thoroughly. I feel like she uses plot devices willy nilly whenever it’s the easiest solution. There was never a moment where I said, “that was clever!” A lot of it was cool, but not clever. Not creative. She also has a tendency to write very dramatically, in staccato type sentences where everything is made into a big moment, which bugs me a lot. 
I love Nesta. She’s still my fav, and will probably always be my fav. This book doesn’t change that, and as you can tell in my review, most of the issues I had weren’t with her behavior, but with the behavior of other characters. I still love Cassian, even though he made me want to rip my hair out sometimes.
Will I read the next books? Probably. I can’t seem to stay away from these characters or these books, so kudos to SJM for writing them. I know a majority of people have given this book 4 or 5 stars, but I can’t bring myself to give it more than 2/5.
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