I See Exactlywhere Youre Coming From. However, The Point About Elain Being Overwhelmed By Azrielis Debatable.

I see exactly where you’re coming from. However, the point about Elain being overwhelmed by Azriel is debatable. Maybe he needs that softness and kindness to really heal. Maybe he needs that change from his sarcastic tough friends. Elain has been through crap too and her powers have let her see alot and in A Court of Frost and Starlight, Elain is shown to be so much stronger than we first thought and healing way better than Nesta. So maybe she can handle it? And I’m not going back on what I was saying...or maybe I am...shit... I still don’t think they’re ready for a romantic relationship period, certainly not together, definitely not now, but the point to be made is everyone needs to heal themselves before trying to go around healing everyone else. 

“Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him live with deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. Same goes for her,” Mor to Feyre on the subject of Lucien and Elain A Court of Frost and Starlight  Pg. 168

I’d totally love to see Lucien finally find home somewhere (or with someone hint hint)...I mean his little band of ‘The Exiles’ is really the only place he’s ever really felt excepted, I mean even in the spring court Tamlin and him had an odd relationship and Azreil has his friends already, but in ACOFAS it didn’t seem like Elain was warming up to Lucien any time soon and ever since we’ve learnt the mating bond can be rejected I think that’s what we’ve been leading up to...you know?

This series more than makes up for its lack of character deaths in odd and confusing relationships and blurry plot destinations...I’ll give it that.

Elain x Azriel: W.T.F.

SCROLLING THROUGH TUMBLR AND SEEING ELRIEL FANFICTIONS HAS ME SHOOK! 

Wait! People ship Azriel and Elain!? NO! WHAT!? WHY!? Lucien deserves the happiness and purity Elain will bring to his life (they’re totally end game) and what is the whole mating bond for then!? I know the bond can be rejected but– but– but– THEN WHAT ABOUT MOR!? 500 years of sexual tension for what!? 

 Azriel just emits big brother vibes towards Elain…just why tho… I get they cling to each other but it’s a protective soul bond (IK THAT SOUNDS EXACTLY LIKE WHAT THE MATING BOND IS BUT NO) just– like calls to like and–*stunned silence* I have never hated any ship more in. my. life.

LET ME RECAP:

Yes.

Yes. That was cute. That was adorable. That is what they are.

This, however:

( @nouketou : art credit) 

beautiful art piece BUTTT HELL NO!!! WHAT THE FRICKITY FRICK FRACK!

*ONLY ¾ OF THE WAY THROUGH ACOWAR SO DONT SPOIL JUST A THOUGHT*

I have broken promises. But do not think, They did not hurt me, As much as they hurt you.

I never thought I would break a heart

Every night I wrote about him 

And that was the difference 

One night I wrote about her.

One night I wrote about her.

One night I wrote about her.

One night I wrote about her.

Two Artists In Math Class

I am sitting in math class. We are supposed to be studying for exams. But I cannot focus. For these words scream to be let out. And so in the quiet classroom, I take out a tattered notebook. Filled to the brim with pieces of me, and I write. 

There is a girl sitting beside me in math class. We are supposed to be studying for exams. But she cannot seem to focus. Like something in her is screaming to be let out. And so in the quiet classroom, she pulls out a pencil. Worn to the stub with her fingered prints practically engraved in it, and she draws.

We are both twitchy things. Eager to release the weights on our hearts. Let our urges out of their cages. We are both artists in math class, with storms inside us, spinning hurricanes on paper, and willing worlds into existence, until the bell rings.                                                                                                                   And her drawing is done.                                                                                        And my paragraph is done.                                                                                      And her leg has finally stopped shaking. And I can breathe again. And we take a second to take it all in, before we pack up. And move on to our next class. 

We are both Artists.

And we will study later.

Sick of Poetry

I am sick of writing poetry                                                                                  Sick of writing in metaphors                                                                                    and beautiful words                                                                                                  in odd formed lines                                                                                                that wind up trailing into plain thoughts                                                                    or lose the thought somewhere along the way to the end of the sentence

I am sick of writing poetry                                                                                        I crave the backing of a storyboard                                                                         Crave the adrenaline that comes when mounting a good arc                            The whiplash that comes with a plot twist                                                                I crave the company of characters                                                                    Who feel things so I don’t have to                                                                            I crave the escape to a world that is not my own but is

I am sick of writing poetry                                                                                        But nothing seems to care                                                                                      Nothing seems to want to stick around                                                                  Nothing seems to want to be the one tasked with comforting me                        To give themselves up to my pencil and will                                                       Not these thoughts                                                                                                Or these words                                                                                                        Or these storylines                                                                                                Not the witty dialogue                                                                                              Or the interesting settings                                                                                        Or the complex characters 

They like to disappear                                                                                              As though they are ashamed                                                                                That they were ever mine                                                                                        I too am ashamed                                                                                                    But I am sick of writing poetry 

wait...did I just get through 3 whole YA fantasy novels in the same series without someone important dying (and staying dead)...what is this feeling? You can write a YA book without killing someone I love? My world is altered...I have been lied to...all these authors causing me unnecessary pain--I--