Feyre - Blog Posts
Can't stop won't stop reading ACOTAR at work.
It’s giving Feyre vibes
HAILEE STEINFELD. 2024 Oscars - Red Carpet.
I swear y’all acotar haters who compare sjm (who writes masterpieces) to Colleen fucking Hoover only read the first book. (Which is still a problem because the first book is still >>>>> anything coho can ever conjure in that tiny brain of hers)
And throne of glass!! like ok if y’all hate acotar cuz Rhys fucked in a war tent Rowaelin fucked on a beach I hope thats more acceptable for you. (no but fr tog is also a literal masterpiece. The ending of EoS???? KoA????? hello?)
maybe it's cuz im dumb and dont know howbut y'all anti nesta people be blocking nesta tags and everyone be using n/esta or n*sta (or like e/riel) so like???? I personally don't care and im not anti any characters but i mean
I don't think sjm did any other interviews from 2021~ now (or if she did it's not public so I can't see it) and since I've only first read acotar during January of last year and only acosf and hosab came out when I was actually a part of the fandom, I've never actually seen any of sjm's interview until this recent one with Katherine Webber and I have to say.. the way sjm haters villainize sjm one would think sjm is some kind of heartless psycho that 1. purposely created Danika Fendyr solely to be used as a plot device because she's dead 2. purposely designed Rhys and Feyre to be selfish rulers who will be the doom of Velaris 3. purposely made Feyre such an irresponsible mother and ruler 4. purposely made Rhysand such a manipulative and irresponsible ruler 5. purposely made nesta such a evil and uncaring person not even bothering to redeem her (you all, nesta's human, she makes mistakes and it's not always okay but that doesn't make her an evil person who doesnt deserve a second.. well fine maybe third... chance) 6. purposely killed the thirteen (this one's a joke you people who take everything so literally) 7. purposely made Rhys and Feyre seem so heartless they could have sex when people are dying (bro it's supposed to be romantic not a personal attack on the dying people 🙄 it's supposed to symbolize how "people in find hope in others [in sex, yes] during the hardest times" 8. purposely created the IC as a toxic enviorment and toxic family who "keeps things from each other" and "don't trust and open up to each other" (eg: Mor not being willing to admit she's gay, telling feyre her preganacy can kill her WELL IF YOU WERE IN THEIR POSITION YOU PROBABLY WOULD DO THAT SAME THING) 9. purposely made Bryce curvy without "proper representation" because she's fatphobic 10. purposely didn't give any of her characters god forbid THERPY and had them magically get better (you all fun fact no one believes in therapy where i live and im suicidal but obviously im not dead yet and probably also less messed up than HALF of you sjm haters so one doesnt require therapy to get over trauma or to just... not be dead✨) 10. purposely gave Rhys and Feyre power (and from one of the acotar hate chain I quote) "so they can fucking waste it" 11. purposely had Nyx conceived out of fear (not true but I'll humor you all)
I could go on and on and on but i think this sufficient don't you? You all, acotar and tog and cc are books. in a world designed by a single human. characters have flaws, it doesnt mean they're horrible people, it doesnt mean the AUTHOR is a horrible person or transphobic or fatphobic or anti lgbtq.
also note that before every single point there is a "purposely" as in the things these characters do maybe arent totally correct, but it isn't done because of "problematic intensions"
I don't think SJM is problematic. she's human like any of us, and that means she has her own viewpoints or writes about things she finds acceptable but you don't. that doesnt make her a bad person or a problematic author.
Bryce to Cassian:
Cassian when he uses the guns:
Can you imagine the chaos that would take place if the inner circle came to Lunathion? GUNS IN CASSIAN’S HANDS???!!!
I have a very very very very important question:
Do y'all haters read acotar just for the sake of critisizing it? Cuz it pisses me off (cuz YES i do get defensive cuz i love them but i get ur freedom of expression stuff) but i get it cuz being judgemental is fun. i like it and I started this post as being sarcastic but now i find it funny. One thing, totally fine with critisizing characters, but its a direct insult to actual humans beings if you call them *dumb*, who, by the way, read sjm bc they like sjm and actually feel happy reading sjm and is certainly smarter than people who read sjm for the sake of hating sjm cuz why waste your time if you don't even like it? It's like wearing the color pink to tell people you hate pink like why do you even bother? also, riceman and feyrugs actually really creative, but my acotar loving side is screaming but all is well.
would love some responses, feel free to hate (since you probably hate for the sake of hating, no judgement even if you call be dumb cuz i am since im failing math) will respond when im bored and will try not to get defensive (but i will)
if i sound sarcastic or stuff, i swear im not but have fun hating cuz im also gonna have alotta fun answering
PeAnUt BuTtEr SaNdWiCh
We waited 3 years for ACOSF and then got a single month to enjoy it before a peanut butter sandwich sent the whole fandom into a toxic uproar. I just want my tags back. I just want to enjoy my fandom community.
I can’t even imagine what the tags will look like if this show is actually made.
ACOTAR TV adaption
I’m seeing a few comments abt how we need to stop freaking out about acotar’s tv adaption. Tbh, I'm actually fine without the tv adaption, I mean I’m happy for SJM, but I really don’t want how I pictured the story and characters to be changed. (obviously, no one could be as perfect as Rhysie and I really don’t want certain scenes to change)
But yes, I am still VERY excited for it, even if i do have conflicted feelings too.
New HC: Helion recognized the Illyrian markings for glory in battle Rhys had painted on Feyre when he starts to bring her to the revels.
“Love the new decoration for your new pet,” Helion laughs to Rhysand, who pulls Feyre closer and gives the Lord of Day a lazy grin.
“Indeed. I think they quite suit her.”
They share a glance that to outsiders looks salacious and wicked, but Helion reads the intent in Rhysand’s eyes. He has seen those markings in the books of his libraries and knows. He knows what a bold statement of defiance they are. He knows that this mortal is now their best chance. Their only chance. He knows why Rhys is keeping her by his side every night, why he’s keeping her out of the darkness of the dungeons as long as he can.
And he begins to hope.
i started reading crescent city and was warned that it will hurt and i thought how bad can it be(comparing tog and acotar).
And let me tell you IT WAS WORSE.
i swear sjm wants us to die!
stay with me pt 1
<Azriel Shadowsinger x OFC>
short story of one of our favorite bat boys.
warnings: heavy alcohol consumption, mentions of trauma, light smut, 18+ MDNI!!!!
part two, part three, part four, part five
✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖°
The pulsing music at Rita’s felt like it was mimicking the rapid heartbeat in Ophiela’s chest. Every dip and sway that she was led into by strange males made her feel heady and dizzy. It felt like her feet barely touched the floor as she was spun into arm after arm, song after song. The three bottles of wine that her and Mor consumed before coming didn’t help either.
Like Nesta, dancing made her feel something. Less empty, less of a broken shell. Like the patterns she twirled into on the dance floor could somehow form the broken shards of herself back together.
From her place in the crowd she could spy her friends sitting at the permanently reserved table, playing a game of cards. All were focused on the current hand, throwing chips into the pile and cursing at each other. All except one pair of dark hazel eyes. He was almost invisible, tucked into the corner, his black leathers causing him to blend in even more. But beneath the swirling mass of darkness, Ophelia could see him.
Maybe that was one difference between her and Prythians most notorious spymaster. He was comfortable in the dark where no one could see him. But Ophelia was most comfortable under the blazing lights, where almost anyone could see her. Where she could paint a face was calm and happy, and no one would suspect a thing. They were almost exact opposites, but maybe that’s what attracted her to him.
Strong hands suddenly gripped her waist and she was being pulled against a hard chest, breaking her staring contest with the spymaster. The male laughed in her ear, saying something. But she wasn’t sure what he said, her head was swimming by this point. She danced with him for a bit before excusing herself and pushed her way through the churning bodies, making her way to the table.
Those hazel eyes were on her again, watching her hips sway to the music. Placing her hands on the table and leaning over, she shouted at them so they could hear.
“Does anyone mind taking me home?” Winnowing while drunk was a bad idea. She learned her lesson the hard way when she almost drowned in the Sidra. She didn’t want to end a few inches off from the balcony of the House of Wind and fall to her death. That would be embarrassing.
Feyra opened her mouth to speak but Azriel beat her to it, setting his cards down.
“I fold.” He told the table. “I’m ready to get out of here anyway.” He stood, his wings ruffling at the movement.
As the two made their way to the doors, Ophelia could have sworn she heard Cassian yelling that Az had a full house. There was no way he could have been on a cusp of winning for him to just walk out like that, Az was too competitive. She must have heard him wrong.
They walked out into the muggy summer night. It was scorching this time of year, the night time only a little more tolerable than the day. The light blue dress that Ophelia had on stuck to her in the most uncomfortable of places. It was a pretty dress, a little on the short side, but one that would now have to be thoroughly washed. It reeked of sweat and wine and unfamiliar males.
Azriel and Ophelia walked in silence for a bit, the sounds of distant parties and conversations being drowned out by the rushing water as they approached the bridge to the Sidra. She traced the amazingly carved detail with her fingers on the rails, before stopping and turning to look down at the water.
Azriel inhaled softly as if he were about to speak, but Ophelia cut him off.
“Did I tell you about the time I almost drowned in the Sidra?”
She glanced behind her to the Illyrian, whose stoic features wavered just slightly at her admission. Whatever he was about to say, she had stopped him. If she were being honest with herself, which was rare, she’d wish she had let him speak.
“Mor and I had a few too many glasses of Rhys aged wine,” She continued. “Didn’t think it would hit me that hard. When I tried to winnow home I landed face first into cold water. Sobered me up pretty quick.”
She turned around, gazing up into those damned hazel eyes. She expected to see some sort of amusement in his eyes, but all she found was worry.
“I could have taken you home that day.”
Ophelia shrugged. “Honestly, I think you were on a mission for Rhys. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bother you with my drunkenness.” She lifted her palms up to the sky, a smile twitching at her lips.
“I don’t mind your drunkenness.” That same smile creeping up on the corners of his own thick, lush lips.
Damnit.
Something had changed, shifted, between Ophelia and Azriel. For centuries, she had considered Azriel as a friend, a good friend. But almost three months ago, that had changed. She didn’t know what it was, or didn’t want to admit to herself what it was, but it happened. Az and her had been sparring early in the evening like usual. They were trying to perfect a new technique they thought of, when somehow Ophelia managed to knock Azriel on his ass.
He had stared up at her with such awe and bewilderment she thought he might have cracked his head open on the ground. When she helped him up his hands were clammy and hot, and he quickly excused himself from the session.
Ever since then, Azriel had been, well, nice. Not just the forced politeness she was used to when it came to the spymaster. He had been offering to help her, spending time with her scouting out the Autumn Court, which she knew he hated. It was strange, even Rhys admitted his brother's actions were strange.
Ophelia, snapping out of her thoughts, realized she had been staring far too long at Azriel. Clearing her throat, she looked away. She was glad it was hot out or else she felt like he might have called her out on the blush that was creeping across her cheeks.
“Do you mind?” She asked, lifting her arms out to him. “I’m ready for bed.”
Azriel nodded silently, and picked her up like she weighed less than a feather. She laid her head on his chest and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the feeling of her stomach to drop once he took flight. Hearing the leathery snap of his wings, the ground whooshed out from underneath them. She sucked in a breath as his wings caught the warm breeze, spreading them out behind him.
Velaris was always beautiful, but Ophelia was convinced it looked the most beautiful from above. She watched as the streaming lights grew distant as they flew farther away from the city. It made her heart hurt to watch it go.
They flew silently towards the House of Wind, the only sound of Azriel’s wings occasionally flapping. She looked over his shoulder, the thin membrane of his wings looked so silky. Ophelia knew how prized an Illyrian's wings were to them. They would rather be dead than be without their wings.
Still, they looked so smooth and soft. Tentatively, she reached a hand out and lightly ran her hand across the cool skin. She heard Azriel gasp, and they dipped in the sky.
“Shit!” She squawked, nails digging into his neck. “Sorry! I didn’t think-”
“If you don’t want me to drop you, sweetheart, I wouldn’t do that again.” Azriel grunted. Something had changed in his voice, it sounded gruffer. She was so caught up in what just happened she almost missed it.
He had called her sweetheart.
Azriel landed on the balcony without any more close calls. Though Ophelia supposed she was to blame for that. He set her down gently and she smoothed out her dress, making sure everything was covered.
“I need a drink.” She announced, but mostly for the house to hear.
“You had about three bottles of wine, four shots of vodka, and a beer. You need more?” Azriel said from behind her, humor laced in his tone.
“Well, looks like someone was counting.” She smirked to herself. “But no, I need tea. Care to join?”
Sauntering into the kitchen, she saw the house instantly set out another hot mug and she picked it up, handing it to Azriel. “It’s my secret blend.” She smiled, picking up her own mug. Taking a small sip, she sighed contentedly.
She hopped up on the counter watching as Azriel did the same. “Jasmine, lavender, and chamomile.” He offered. “With a hint of lemon.”
Ophelia rolled her eyes, smirking. “I suppose being a spymaster you have to know the differences between tastes. Wouldn’t want someone to be poisoned, now would you?”
“No, it’s just what you smell like.”
Ophelia’s heart skipped a beat. She stared down at her mug in her now trembling hands. Desperately, she tried to think of a witty come-back. Something to diffuse to tension that was quickly building in the kitchen. She heard the clink of his mug being set down on the counter, and the shuffle of his boots as he approached her.
“Phia,” Azriel whispered. “Look at me.” Inhaling sharply, she did just that. She felt his hands grab hers and set the mug down, his eyes never leaving hers. His eyes were alight with swirling colors, his pupils almost covering his entire iris.
“Az…” Before she could get another word out, his lips were on hers.
Gasping at the electric shock that started at the base of her skull, making its way down her tailbone, she shuddered. Did she shudder because of that or because of Azriel, Azriel was finally kissing her? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer right now.
He broke away from her after a long moment, resting his forehead on hers. He was panting, they were panting. This time when Azriel tried to speak, she was the one to cut him off. Her lips slotted over his, her slender arms wrapping around his neck pulling him closer.
They were a blur of gnashing teeth and tongues, their breathing turning almost frantic. Azriel’s rough hands gripped her hips, pulling her even closer to him. Instinct kicked in and Ophelia grabbed onto his waist with her legs. Nothing but a few scraps of clothing separated them now.
Wait.
Azriel bit down on her bottom lip, a quiet moan rippled from her mouth. He pulled away, but not going very far. He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then that spot right behind her ear. Ophelia moaned again, louder this time, arching into his touch.
She said she didn’t want this.
Azriel’s chuckled, his breath tickled against her overheating skin. He continued kissing down the length of her throat, and her hands found their way to his thick hair, tugging softly. Ophelia felt triumphant when he let out a moan of his own. Then, she was leaning farther and farther back so he could have easy access to her, gasping and moaning when he bit down just to soothe the sting with his tongue. His mouth was setting ablaze a burning path down her chest that she thought the coolest of waters couldn’t put out.
She wasn’t allowed to want this.
His hand came up to cup her breast through the material of her dress, his thick thumb swiping lazily over the peaked nipple. She was squirming now, her soaked core rutting ever so slightly against the very large bulge in his leathers. She wanted more, needed more. Needed to feel him in every way possible, to feel exactly what the honed muscles could do.
She shouldn’t want this.
Azriel finally pulled away from the assault he was levying against her front and his eyes found hers. “Sweetheart, do you-”
“Well it’s about damn time!” A voice boomed from down the hall.
Ophelia had never seen Azriel move so fast. One moment she was sprawled out on the counter top, the next Azriel had her behind his back, guarding her from being seen by Cass and Nesta, who had just caught them in a very compromising situation. A snarl she had never heard from Azriel ripped from his throat.
“Oh come now, Az! How many times have you walked in on me and Ness? It’s only fair I get you back.”
But she didn’t wait for Azriel’s reply, because she was already sprinting to her room.
She couldn’t want this.
yes PLEASE
baby wake up, new Rhysand art just dropped
🎨 by ignartcio
Night Triumphant and the Stars Eternal
🎨art by giannyfili on IG
This is amazing! Kudos to whoever made this! It fits sooo perfectly with them
ACOMAF
So, I am the person who when I'm not even fully into the Beginning of a book, I'll go and read the last paragraph on the last page. So when I did this with ACOMAF, and I read, 'So the High Lord of spring unwittingly lead the High lady of the Night Court into the heart of his territory' (or something like that) I was like, "Tamilin, what did you do this time'. At the beginning. and when I finished it I was all, 'Fuck you Tamilin! Go Feyre! Kill him!" That shows how much my veiws of him had changed.
Someone to their friend: Hey Mate, how's it going?
ACOTAR, wolfsong fangirls: Ooooooh, Did he just call her/him mate? *giggles*
#crazyfangirls
That heartwarming and soft feeling you get when a character calls his beloved one 'Darling' and 'sweetheart' and 'baby'.
For instance, Alex calling Henry Sweetheart in Red White & Royal Blue.
And Henry calling Percy Darling like x1000 times in The Gentleman's guide to vice & virtue.
And Rhysand calling Feyre Feyre Darling in ACOTAR series.