I've been typing this on the notes app of my iPhone - it's after the ending of ACOMAF (DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU'VE READ ACOMAF, SPOILERS AHEAD) and is a compilation of different POVs + inner monologue of our favorite characters and infamous toolboxes and ish for what ships/drama I think will be endgame.

There will be swearing and potential sexy times new adult material. You've been warned :P

Please read and review! Let me know if there are any inaccuracies or send me a message with a suggested plot twist.

Tamlin

I exited Feyre's room, seething about Rhysand, claws growing from my hands and scraping down the wall with violent strokes. He'd brainwashed her with gibberish about mates when he'd stolen my fiancée from the altar, when he'd been Amarantha's whore for five decades, his jewels wrapped up in her cave as we, suffering High Fae of Spring Court, were forced behind masks. He'd taken my property right off my Court as if he could call in a bargain that was made in a prison cell when I was bound and helpless. Fight me like a man, you evil bat.

I could feel the snarl threatening to escape subside at the thought of Ianthe, all luscious curves and youthful radiance. We'd been longtime friends and I, amongst scores of male admirers, harbored an ever-intensifying infatuation with the sway of her hips as she turned her exposed back, smooth, long lashed wink accompanied by a suggestive curve of her lush, full lips as she flipped her revealed hair. Ianthe had warmed my bed when my length had throbbed at Feyre's empty bed, had provided me with clever court ruling suggestions when I was on the verge of marching over to Rhysand's sorry excuse for a Court and taking what was rightfully mine. She'd told me that the King of Hybern was looking towards the mortal lands and clearly, Spring Court was on the Fae side of the Wall, the closest access point. I had been all for her idea of working with him - everyone I cared about was High Fae. A tiny bit of me lamented the thought of Feyre's mortal sisters, but it disappeared in an instant. Ianthe and I graced the entire house with our passionate love making, her generous ass warming Feyre's bed.

No matter that Feyre was not ready for any night activity after whatever dark schemes Rhysand had been conspiring. Feyre and I would be physically fused once more at Calanmai - I was sure of it. I have showered my soon-to-be wife with jewelry and dresses and paints and all that she could want in a house. I have shown her how glorious my length is, how well I can move, how lucky she is to have me. I have displayed my power, my destruction of all the rooms in the house in her absence. She won't have to bother that pretty little head of hers with court affairs and High Fae politics. After Under the Mountain, after Rhysand's trials and tribulations, she needs to stay in the house, safe and sound, and be my wife. We endured much for each other to endure the best possible life together, and of course Rhysand had to ruin the party.

I idly wondered why Ianthe had taken off. My impressive beast twitched in protest at the absence of warmth.

Feyre

As soon as Tamlin left the room, I curled up in my bed. I shivered at the feel of unfamiliar blankets, at the absence of elegant Illyrian wings embracing me in all their warmth and sensitivity. It was all wrong, the smell of the house, the smell and feel of Tamlin, the Spring Court dresses. I ached for Rhysand to be beside me in this endeavor of utter importance, though I knew he supported my independence, had full faith in my abilities. We were connected, friends, mates, bonded, but free to be our own person, no obligations. Rhys loved me enough to let me go - not that I would ever leave what we have both been so blessed to find.

I thought of my sisters, Nesta of the sharp tongue and Elain of the lovely kindness. I wondered if Elain still wore the iron ring of her Fae-hating mortal fiancé's family, if she realized that it was settled upon her finger as a High Fae and was doing nothing. I'd have to warn them - that iron did nothing to High Fae, though ash arrows, namely poisoned ash arrows, were a horror to behold. I thought of the times Rhys and I had saved each other from the brink of death.

I lamented the thought of Cassian's glorious wings in tatters at the hand of the King of Hybern. He was the leading general of the army and Illyrians prized their wings (oh so sensitive) above all else. Cauldron save - I stopped. Cauldron be damned, if it was in the hands of the ruthless King and his mortal Queen pets. Hopefully Cassian would be engaged in sparring of the tongue with Nesta as he was recovering. I smiled briefly at the thought, the corners of my lips drooping as I longed to discuss the current happenings of the two Courts we were separated in with Rhys.

I closed my eyes, longing to drift away into the heated visions of our passion.

Nesta

I'd failed. I'd failed myself, Elain, the mortal race. What I once was. What I was meant to be. Not trapped in this unfamiliar, dangerously smooth new body, not hearing with ears ending in sharp points, like everything in this treacherous world we'd heard horrendous tales about. It was every mortal's nightmare to cross the Wall. Not that the mortal queens had been any better. They'd been ready to throw us to the wolves. Wolves, High Fae, same difference. And the Wall would soon be nonexistent, unless we thwarted the King of Hybern. Doubtful, if the monster could torture someone as sweet as Elain and smile in pleasure.

My heart stumbled at the sound of muffled grunts emerging from Cassian's bedroom, situated across from me like some sort of joke. It wasn't my place, I knew - he was surrounded by his Inner Circle. He'd failed to save me, despite his earnest promises, and now I would fail - no. I'd failed enough. It was about time I at least tried not to disgrace my vows once again.

I prowled toward his room, hating my lethal new High Fae body, the heightened hearing, the precise eyesight. I loathed how my body sang at the feel of Night Court clothing, loose pants swishing with every step. I wet my lips, grateful that my sharp tongue was still intact, and rapped upon the door.

"Enter," Cassian rasped, and I pushed forward into the darkened room. I squeezed my eyes shut, despising how quickly they adjusted to the low light. My mortal eyes would have required far more time. I pursed my lips, opening my eyes reluctantly.

Cassian lay atop the bed on his stomach, his ravaged wings folded protectively upon his sculpted back. He wore nothing and lay exposed to the elements, save for a light blanket that covered his lower half. I flushed upon realizing what I was looking at, knowing I should back out of the room. Elain would be so much better in this situation.

I scavenged for a witty one liner but came up short, the strangest urge to comfort Cassian washing over me. I swallowed nervously, trying to bury the foreign emotions that were rising up.

"You came for the view?" Cassian managed to shoot me a side eye from where he lay, face turning towards me with the hint of a smirk. "I'd turn over but our reunion is under rather unfortunate circumstances," he continued, arm twisting upon his back to indicate, and subsequently stroke, his right wing. His face morphed into a raw reveal of painful pleasure, teeth gritted, eyes narrowed. The expression disappeared quickly, his perpetually amused mask back in place. I loosened a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, eyes widened at the glimpse of his suffering.

"No, I," I racked my brains for a suitable reason as to why I was in his room at midnight. "I want to fight."

Cassian let out a snort, body shaking with laughter. "That is the understatement of the year." He peered up at her through his dark lashes, brows raised. "You mean right now?" His brows rose further, the right one quirking higher in a suggestive manner. "On the bed?"

"I didn't want to deal with your insufferable sniffling while I was attempting at beauty sleep," I snapped, desperate to cover the flush creeping from my neck to my hairline. "Or your self-obsessed commentary. But I want to strangle that son of a bitch with my bare hands," I snarled vehemently.

"What can I say," Cassian cast an amused expression upon me. "Your sharp tongue could cut the King of Hybern into little pieces." His face turned approving as his roaming gaze assessed me. "And you don't need beauty sleep."

"We all need rest," I said, voice sharpening to a knifepoint. I couldn't bear his agony. "Have the Healers provided a soothing potion?"

"They did all that and more," Cassian said bitterly. "But my wings…" he trailed off in a strangled sob. I strode to his bedside, ready to put some sense into him.

"The loss of your wings would be tragic," I said, "but think of all the lives you saved." I recognized at that moment that despite Elain and I becoming High Fae against our will, against the very core of our being, Cassian and the Inner Circle members, Feyre included, had got us out of that hellhole. I would have fought that bitchass King myself if I hadn't been stumbling over my new body. "You got me and my sister out of there," my voice softened in gratitude, startling me. I hadn't heard that tone since I needed Feyre to give me money for new boots when we were in that hovel with my sorry excuse for a father.

Cassian had buried his face in the pillow, his shoulder length midnight hair and ears the only visible parts of his head. Emboldened by the night and his lack of sight at present, I ran my fingers through the thick strands, stroke lingering at his neck. Cassian moved faster than lightning, flipping into a seated position to face me. His eyes were a silent question.

"What will make it easier to sleep?" I asked quietly.

"Stay with me," he murmured, holding my gaze.

I bit off the snarky retorts that rose to the forefront of my mind, about how he needed me…wanted me, and how that'd get people talking. I wasn't cruel, throwing others' vulnerability, what they revealed, back into their face.

But I couldn't stay in the same bed as him.

"I'll settle into that chair," I indicated it with a tilt of my head. Cassian rolled his eyes.

"I have no energy for…evening activities in my sorry state," he reminded me. "Besides," he fixed me with the full intensity of his dark eyes, "I'd want to do it right."

I didn't know what to do with myself. I couldn't look away from his…smolder. That was the word. But I knew Cassian's character, the rumors that circulated. I wouldn't be another female figure for mindless release.

"I don't want to be a nameless, faceless female in your bed," I said flatly. "I don't share."

"Is that what's bothering you?" Cassian asked, tilting his head to the side. "Why you're always so prickly?"

"I don't have time for this," I retorted, making a move towards the door.

"What else are you doing?" Cassian asked, a touch of bitterness in his tone. "Don't bullshit me that you're sleeping peacefully after the High Fae transformation and Hybern, with Feyre being in Spring Court and our whole world going to hell." He clenched his teeth angrily. "And the fucking General of the powerful Illyrian army is bedridden, just when we need to fight -"

"We need to strategize," I cut him off before he worked himself into a senseless fury. "Fighting be damned right now! When plans fall through, shit hits the roof. As it did at Hybern. And those bitches, mortal queens," now I snarled at the thought of those women. "And that Spring Court bastard, savage rabid beast devil, conspiring cock ass betrayer -"

"Dammnnnnn," Cassian whistled appreciatively. "What colorful language for a lady." He'd eased into a laid back position, settled upon his elbows, wings folded protectively beneath him. "I fully agree. Go on, and bring me some hors d'oeuvres while you're at it."

"Finger foods, my ass. I'll chop your fingers off first," I breathed heavily.

"So you really have no love for the High Lord of the Spring Court," Cassian shrugged nonchalantly, "if he can still be called by that honorable title after his actions."

"I have no love for no one," I shot back, amending, "anyone."

"Nuh-uh." Cassian cocked one brow. "You love your sisters."

I looked away. I wasn't going to refute that. But thinking about my sisters' ordeals was too much for me at present. I'd failed my duties as the eldest.

"I'll be going," I indicated the door with a tilt of my head. "No more mushy talk."

"I haven't got a mushy bone in my body," Cassian smirked. "It's all hard as hell."

"You go to hell," I said as I made my way to my room.

"Thanks for staying!" He called out.

Jerk.

Rhysand

Thighs clenched, wings clenched, jaw tight. Don't let him catch wind, don't let him guess, keep Feyre safe, let us be together…

"Ah, it seems Feyre only left to be with her mate!" The King of Hybern clapped his hands as if entertained by a soap opera. "How interesting."

IHAVENOPOWERS
IAMHELPLESS

Amarantha beckoned with a ruby red nail, "Service me."

Lucien's voice, "TO YOUR LEFT!" Feyre almost devoured by the worm.

Tamlin forcing Feyre onto his bed, locking her in, her pain, agony ripping through me,

"You're dying, Feyre." Her arm dangling at an abnormal angle, skin deathly white, eyes dark pits, devoid of hope,

ITISTHEEND

My eyes flew open, body coated in cold sweat. I'd worked the covers into a frenzied mess, my head nearly dangling off the side of the bed. I adjusted myself, pulling the covers over my suddenly chilly bare chest.

I needed a voice other than my own tortured thoughts. I could go to Cassian's room with my current lack of attire, but I might bump into other nighttime wanderers. Like Amren.

I put on some pants and quietly stalked towards Cass' room, where I froze at the sound of voices. Nesta, I recognized with surprise.

It sounded like she was in the middle of a rant about Tamlin. I found my spirits uplifted just a tinge at the welcome distraction.

I flattened myself against the wall as Nesta stormed out with a "You go to hell" directed at Cassian. I smirked delightedly. I didn't know where Elain had come from - the other two Archeron sisters were so feisty.

I liked that the women around me were like that. Feyre, Mor, Amren…if I could get over what Nesta had done to Feyre back in their mortal village, I'd like her too.

"So," I sauntered into the room, emerging out of the darkness. "You guys do an against the wall, argument-turned-passion session or what?"

"She was mad because there wasn't one," Cassian said, looking out the window. His usual snappy comeback tone was gone, replaced by a world weary exhaustion. I knew why, of course, and I wasn't going to bring it up. We both needed a distraction.

"Drinks on the roof?" I suggested, just to get him out of his funk. I knew it'd be a long ordeal. And sometimes, it was necessary to drink yourself to oblivion.

I'd had Feyre drink to escape from the horrors of Under the Mountain.
I'd have Cassian drink to forget the painful Hybern ordeal.
I'd drink to dream of a world of art and love and peaceful happiness, where families may roam free in equality between mortals, lesser faeries, and High Fae.

I snorted aloud at the ridiculousness of that sentiment. The High Lord of Night Court inclined towards love and peace and happiness? The notorious devil, winged and tattooed and taloned, with his hidden hellhole of a shitshow, the all powerful ruler of the likes of the Court of Nightmares, womanizer, mind shatterer…HE kept Velaris safe?

Yep that's me. All the world's a stage, my friend.

And I hadn't even been behind a mask during the blight. During my first meeting with Feyre at Calanmai, her human heart thudding, her mortal mind so fragile, I'd worn no mask but played my part.

How I really felt was more appropriate for Tarquin, something like Summer Court. Cringing slightly, I thought of the blood rubies. That was another relationship I'd have to repair…hopefully we. Feyre and I as a duo.

Feyre could work her magic on Tamlin…I shuddered at the thought. Tamlin was too far gone. But we'd need all the help we could get, even from…

"What did your sharp tongued vocal sparring partner have to say?" I asked, jerking out of my reverie. "About good ol' Tam Tam?" I looked over at Cass, who'd nodded off as I'd been thinking about myself. I strode over, tenderly tucking the remains of his wings upon the mattress so he could sleep on his back. I scrunched my eyes, but a tear leaked out nevertheless. Cassian, oh Cass, who I'd grown up alongside. Who prized his wings so dearly. The loss of them would be a grave sacrifice indeed, and I sent a prayer up to the stars that the healers would be able to save Cassian's wings as all hell breaks loose across Prythian.

Lucien

Of all places, I had to discover my mate under the watchful scrutiny of that son of a bitch, in Hybern! I'd take the mortal lands or better yet, Prythian for that kind of life changing information, thank you very much.

What had she thought? I must have looked a madman, spouting bull about her being my mate just as she underwent a humiliating transformation to High Fae. She'd worn an iron engagement ring - I was an idiot to further frighten the girl, especially with my metal eye. And now she was in the Night Court with Rhysand and his croonies…

Speaking of Rhysand, I didn't buy their little act one bit. When I'd gone to retrieve Feyre from the clutches of the High Lord of the Night Court, she'd grown her own wings and stood beside Rhysand, the two working as a pair. And he'd been interested in her Under the Mountain, and she'd entered an inked bargain with him. Now, Tamlin thought Rhysand had mind control over Feyre and she just found a way to come back to him, get married, so on…

Bullshit. I'd given Feyre every option to come back that time, and she's adamantly refused. I'd thought Rhysand had his claws on her then too, because it was the height of his powers in his territory.

And I could see where Tam's mad thinking could have a touch of logic - our powers had been diminished in Hybern, so Feyre had "come to her senses." I'd believe that shit story too if it hadn't been for their mating bond.

That couldn't be faked. The King of Hybern, with his evil sniffing prowess, had sensed it. I'd seen the tense set of Rhysand's shoulders. He'd been hiding it.

We all played a dangerous game, but sometimes the masks were off. In Spring Court's case, it was their physical disappearance. But for one moment, I'd seen the briefest glimpse of undiluted, raw agony flicker across his misleadingly angelic features.

If Rhysand the evil bat was concerned, I didn't know what hope was left for the rest of us.

We were all connected to Feyre. Me, Tam, Rhysand.

But Tam was just as much an imposter as Feyre was. Sure, she'd infiltrated Spring Court with loyalties to Rhysand, but he…

Tamlin may have produced demon spawn with that fake bitch, most likely created the High Bae of the Spring Court.

Ianthe

I felt it with a deep awareness, low in my flat belly. We'd been trained to sense such life energies, and I'd achieved what I'd aimed for since the start. With a longtime friend and sexy beast, no less.

It was actually a blessing that the dark devil had crashed my perfectly planned wedding - I'd never forgive that bastard for that infraction, nevertheless - because that meant Tam finally paid full attention to my advances.

It was still fresh in my head, that fucker's rejection of me. The pain, both physical and emotional, he'd caused me.

I'd avenge my humiliated self.

That fiery haired, one eyed lapdog of Tamlin's had such a fiery temper to match. But no matter that I hadn't gotten him under my belt. I'd gone for the silver and gotten the gold. Well, technically red but specifics, who cared?

That Night Court son of a bitch had been the platinum standard, all that power, but I'd prefer to stay in Spring Court, thank you very much. Blondes are more my type anyhow, but I don't discriminate.

The King of Hybern. Oh, I hoped he was a tasty treat.