ACoTaR And ToG Obsessed

[acotar-and-tog]

Random thought,

You know how when deana possessed Aelin it was described as ‘silver flame’? Well, could this relate to Sara J mass’s new books ‘A court of Sliver Flames?’ Could Nesta’s power be like deana’s? Sara J mass broke a trend for this title, so maybe....? Anyways, probably wrong assumptions.

[phoenixyfriend]

Reblog if you write fanfic and would be totally down with your followers coming into you askbox and talking to you about your fic

[acotar-and-tog]

*Showing Rowan their new bedroom*

Rowan : *Looks in closet* Gods, Aelin do you really need such a big dressing room?

Aelin : Of course I do! It’s not even that big, it’s only for dresses, but there’s another room behind that one that is just for shoes, and one for tops, one for bottoms etc.

Rowan : ......That’s...a lot of clothes....

Aelin : Of course it would be for you, since you only have three outfits overall, which is why I got you an entire walk in closet with clothes included!

Rowan : *Opens another door* I—Why is there a draw labeled makeup?

Aelin : *Innocently* So that you can put it on for court functions of course.

Rowan : There’s purple lipstick in here.

Aelin : ....And?

Rowan :

Rowan : *Sighs* I hate you.

[acotar-and-tog]

Lysandera : Have you ever been in love?

Aelin : Yes......Twice. They didn’t end well.

Lysandera : Oh—god I forgot about Sam, I’m so sorry! Did the other one end well at least?

Aelin : Well, the more the other one is dying the more I love it, so....it’s going very well.

Lysandera : Um.......You’re in love with your victims?

Aelin : What? No, chocolate cake. I just love it so much!!

Lysandera : Yes, isn’t it amazing?!?

*In th next room*

Aedion : What the hell?

[acotar-and-tog]

*At an IC dinner, having soup*

Rhys : *Smirks*

Feyre : *Blushes*

Mor : Cauldron, what are you saying now?

Feyre : N-nothing! *Blush deepens*

Mor : *Groans* Anyway, the soups really good— What?!

Feyre : *Launches into a coughing fit*

Rhys : *Grins*

[acotar-and-tog]

Aelin : What do any of our lives mean? We’re all going to die someday so what’s the point? Life has no meaning anymore. The darkness has come when the unthinkable has happened!

Rowan : .....Are you okay?

Aelin : Dorian stole my chocolate cake.

Aelin : The world is DOOMED! Oh despair—

Rowan :

Rowan : Um, are you sure you’re not over reacting....?

Aelin : *Confused* In what way am I overreacting?

Rowan :

Rowan : Nevermind.

[acotar-and-tog]

Just imagine the high lords teasing Tarquin though.....

Tarquin : Fuck—

Helion : Hey, don’t be rude young man!

Thesan : *Takes away his wine* You’re not old enough to drink that yet!

Kallias : When I was your age.....

Tarquin : ........

Imagine Tarquin and Feyre getting revenge

Feyre : *looks at watch* Oh! I’m so sorry, it’s already nine o’clock, you must be so tired!

Tarquin : Do you need help getting up those stairs? We can rest if you want.

Feyre : Would you like me to blend your food so that you can eat it better?

Tarquin : Should you be drinking so much? It can’t be good for your health!

Kallias, Rhysand, Helion and Thesan : Damn karma!

[acotar-and-tog]

Aelin : *At dinner* Do you need to have the food blended for you dear?

Rowan :

Rowan : No.

Aelin : Well, I mean, I just thought, since you’re so old—

Rowan : *Glares*

Aelin : *Shrugs and smiles* We could have soup if you’re having trouble digesting.

Rowan : *Exasperated sigh*

[acotar-and-tog]

Rhysand : Feyre, you’re ignoring all your problems.

Feyre : I know.

Rhysand : You do realize that that’s incredibly bad for you?

Feyre : You’re a problem, so I’m going to ignore you too.

Rhysand :

Rhysand : .....Thanks.

[acotar-and-tog]

Aelin : I DID IT!

Rowan : *In the next room* ??

Aelin : FINALLY I HAVE BEAT YOU!

Rowan : Um, are you alright there, fireheart?

Aelin : I AM GREAT! I HAVE FINALLY DEFEATED MY ARCHNEMISIS!

Rowan : *Walks in to see her holding the lid of the pickle jar like a trophy over her head* .......Great.

[acotar-and-tog]

Aelin : I’ve got a plan!

Rowan : Does it involve self sacrifice?

Aelin : ......

Aelin : I don’t think I should tell you.

Rowan : *Sighs* Could you at least try to make a plan that doesn’t involve self sacrifice?

Aelin : ......But how could you make a plan without it? That’s like making chocolate cake without chocolate!

Rowan : *Gives up* Just—try not to die, will you?

[acotar-and-tog]

Feyre : Rhys, please don’t self sacrifice in this war.

Rhys : I’ll try not to.

Also Rhys : *Dies to save everyone*

Feyre : I asked you to do ONE thing!

[acotar-and-tog]

Lorcan : I have no emotions, I am death incarnate, I feel the touch of a death god. I am darkness itself—

Elide : Um, my period came, I need supplies...

Lorcan : Do you need anything? Here, have my shirt. Are you eating enough iron? Let’s stop by the shops later.

Lorcan : I have no emotions. I am darkness.

[acotar-and-tog]

Rowan : Just try to be respectful please?

Aelin : I’m going to have to decline.

Rowan : *Sighs*

[acotar-and-tog]

The Mountains

Chapter 1

They were kicking her out. Throwing her into the wild, perhaps to go back to the human lands—

“I’ll take the blame,” Feyre went on, “for things getting this far, and getting this bad. After the war, with everything else that was going on, it … you … I should have been there to help you, but I wasn’t, and I am ready to admit that this is partially my fault.” Partially? The insults, the sneers, the jokes at her expense— that was definitely her fault. But what— what did she want here? It didn’t seem like the start of an apology, it seemed like the beginning of a lecture, or an intervention. So what— what was she saying was her fault?

“That what is your fault,” Nesta demanded.

“You,” Cassian said from the armchair to her left. “This bullshit behavior.”

Her spine locked up, fire boiled in her veins at the insult, the arrogance—

“I understand how you’re feeling,” Feyre cut in.

“You know nothing about how I’m feeling,” Nesta snapped.

“It’s time for some changes.” Feyre plowed ahead. “Starting now.”

“Keep your self-righteous do-gooder nonsense out of my life.” And stop meddling in it. She might have been her sister, but what right did that give Feyre to meddle so much in her life? She’d already fought in Feyre’s war, what more did they want? For her to be lovely and nice and perfectly gracious to the same people who had jeered at her and made jokes about her to her face? That wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“You don’t have a life,” Feyre retorted. “You have quite the opposite. And I’m not going to sit by and watch you destroy yourself for another moment.”

“Oh?”

Rhys tensed at the sneer, but said nothing, as she’d done countless times when they’d sneered in her face for letting Feyre go into those woods. For her attitude, her lack of bowing and scraping. For not being respectful to the people who has caused Elain’s pain, who had made them to fight in a war they had no part in.

“I want you out of Velaris,” Feyre breathed, her voice shaking.

Nesta tried—tried and failed—not to feel the blow, the sting of the words. Though she didn’t know why she was surprised by it. They’d never They were kicking her out. Throwing her into the wild, perhaps to go back to the human lands—

“I’ll take the blame,” Feyre went on, “for things getting this far, and getting this bad. After the war, with everything else that was going on, it … you … I should have been there to help you, but I wasn’t, and I am ready to admit that this is partially my fault.”

“That what is your fault,” Nesta demanded.

“You,” Cassian said from the armchair to her left. “This bullshit behavior.”

Her spine locked up, fire boiled in her veins at the insult, the arrogance—

“I understand how you’re feeling,” Feyre cut in.

“You know nothing about how I’m feeling,” Nesta snapped.

“It’s time for some changes.” Feyre plowed ahead. “Starting now.”

“Keep your self-righteous do-gooder nonsense out of my life.”

“You don’t have a life,” Feyre retorted. “You have quite the opposite. And I’m not going to sit by and watch you destroy yourself for another moment.”

“Oh?”

Rhys tensed at the sneer, but said nothing, as he’d promised.

“I want you out of Velaris,” Feyre breathed, her voice shaking.

Nesta tried—tried and failed—not to feel the blow, the sting of the words. Though she didn’t know why she was surprised by it. They didn’t want her here anyway. They’d always been blatantly clear that they hated her. There were no paintings of her in this house, they did not invite her to parties or dinners anymore, they certainly didn’t visit—

“And where,” Nesta asked, her voice mercifully icy, “am I supposed to go?”

And for once, Cassian wasn’t grinning as he said, “You’re coming with me to the Illyrian Mountains.” To the mountains—To train with the Illyrians. Exile. They were exiling her because she’d been cold towards them, because they all hated her. She’d heard the comments they made about her, sometimes right in front of her.

“Watch out! Here comes the ice queen! Don’t look at her too long or she’ll turn you to ice!”

“I don’t know what on earth Cassian sees in her, I bet she doesn’t even have a heart.”

“I can’t believe that she’s your sister, Feyre. How do you put up with her?”

“Cassian should give up on her, she doesn’t deserve him.”

“I’m going to need so much more wine if I have to put up with her all night.”

“Your sisters love you. I can’t for the life of me understand why”

The memories echoed and overlapped each other as icy rage spread through her veins.

“Fine.” She bit out. “You don’t want me here. I’ll go. But not with him.”

Cassian snarled at that, “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not, princess.”

Nesta glared at Cassian. “And what if I refuse? You’ll force me to go?” She said coldly and slightly mockingly.

Rhysand smirked. “We certainly could force you, that would make things easier.” He mused.

Nesta turned her glare onto him. “What right do you have to meddle in my life?” She seethed.

Rhysand stood up. “ What life? All you’re doing is drinking and fucking your way across Velaris, using the money that we provide you. And yet you still can’t find it in you to say a single nice thing to anyone. Not even Elain, your own sister. Do you know how much you hurt her when you stayed away? How much she hates your lifestyle? She was going to be here you know, but then she decided that she couldn’t face you. That she couldn’t face what you’d become.”

Every word hit Nesta like knives against her skin. Elain—She hadn’t meant to hurt her, she didn’t realize that she’d even cared that much. Elain had her new family-the inner circle-and she hadn’t thought that Elain would need or want her anymore, and she’d—she’d hurt Elain. Hurt her by staying away like she’d thought Elain wanted. And Rhysand—How dare he fling that sort of bullshit in her face when he’d done nothing but ridicule and hate her since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. How dare he criticize her as though every aspect of her life was under their jurisdiction.

“Elain was so disappointed, you know, she—” Rhysand continued with that hateful smirk on his face, enough to make Nesta see red. She barely noticed her arm moving until a very loud thwack sounded, and she realized that she’d slapped him across the face. Hard, if the red blooming across his face was any indication. As he turned his face up to look at her, disgust and hatred dancing across his expression along with the slightest hints of surprise, she snarled “Exile me if you want. But don’t you dare lecture me about how to live my life.” She left him standing there and stormed out onto the streets, and headed towards her place in the slums. She walked in and locked all four locks and slumped down behind the door, leaning her head against it. The Illyrian mountains—Where she was going to be exiled soon. And with Cassian. She’d be surprised if they lasted a week without killing each other. She sighed. She’d survived the war. She’d survive this. She wasn’t going to break and join their perfectly happy little circle like they wanted her to.

[acotar-and-tog]

Nesta : I hate all of you.

Elain : Ow, I got a paper cut.

Nesta : *Gasps* WhAT. ArE yOU alriGHt?!?

Elain : ......

Nesta : Okay, I hate everyone except Elain.

[acotar-and-tog]

Dorian : *Runs up to Chaol and presses a crumbly plate into Chaol’s hands*

Chaol : *Bemused* What...?

Dorian : *Runs away*

Aelin : *Runs up* WHO TOOK MY CHOCOLATE CAKE?!?!!

Chaol : *Eyes widening*

Aelin : *Skids to a stop in front of Chaol*

Aelin : *Gasps* YOU— HOW COULD YOU?!?

Chaol : Uh...It—it wasn’t me! I—

Meanwhile.......

Rowan : ....So you ate and stole her chocolate cake.

Dorian : *Nodding*

Rowan : You really are suicidal, aren’t you.