#Lucien x Tamlin’s sister | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feyreswaterybowels · 5 months

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⟡ Princess of Dreams ⟡

# 2 Lucien x Rhys!Sister

⟡ Part 1 ⟡ Part 2 ⟡ Part 3 ⟡

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Following the events of the Solstice ceremony.

Warnings/Tags: smut. implied past sexual assault. fluffy romance. feyre and Rhys’ sister being besties and wanting to destroy tamlin. possible grammatical errors.

Authors Note: All likes comments and reblogs are appreciated, welcome and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 3! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts. (Mood Board)

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It’s hours later when the intensely bright sun had finally sunk back below the western horizon, giving me back my beautiful night sky.

There had been more countless hours of…well of not much really but it was still exhausting to be standing around all day surrounded by thousands of flowers and brightly colored streamers, watching Feyre and Tamlin greet and speak to everyone while Ianthe followed around trying to explain what happened.

The cauldron had blessed her chosen friend, she told anyone who would listen—how the sun had altered its very path to show how glad it was for her return. I would silently mock her every time she repeated those words.

There hadn’t been many interested in her tale, and the ones that were showed mild interest at best.

Feyre had stuck close to us for a majority of the time. I didn’t mind. I felt extremely protective over her. Not only as my High Lady but as my friend. I may not have access to my physical powers but I could still enter a mind in half a second and destroy someone if they dared harm her.

I’d enjoyed watching this new Feyre. How confident and sure she’d become. When the adoring fae wished to touch her hand, weep a bit over her, thank her for all she’d done she would have cringed away before. Now she openly accepted their thanks and gratitude. Thanking them and smiling as any High Lord would. Mostly genuine. Though for some, like courtiers and sentries, she put on a better show.

After six hours many retreat to freshen up.

“Tell my brother I love him.” I tell Feyre when she hugs me as she leaves. She promises to tell him for me.

Lucien and I stay, watching as lunch is cleared away and the band sets up. I would give anything to be spending this day with my family, but I was always grateful to have my mate at my side.

So when the band finally started playing and the fae around us took to the dance floor I dragged Lucien up. He hadn’t put up much of a fight—we loved dancing.

And dance we did for hours. I had even stolen Feyre away from Tamlin a few times much to his annoyance and my satisfaction.

We laughed together, spinning around the dance floor. It reminded me of myself and Mor—how we would get drunk on wine at Rita’s and dance the night away. I couldn’t wait to have nights like that with Feyre, too.

I spun her back into Tamlins arms as Lucien stole me away this time, practically begging me to come with him to eat and I realized why when I noticed Ianthe prowling around the tables.

Even she couldn’t put a damper on my mood right now. We fixed our plates and seated ourselves. More wine in our glasses as we sat tucked off away from the largest parts of the crowd—talking in hushed voices and feeding one another as if we hadn’t been mated for nearly two decades now.

Eventually I had shifted from my seat to stand behind Lucien, playing with his hair while we watched those on the dance floor become increasingly more drunk. I started braiding his hair, a taunt braid along either side of his head, curling behind his pointed ears.

“Your hair is getting so long,” I tell him, those auburn locks well past his shoulders now.

“I know,” He says, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been thinking of cutting it—”

I gasp, drawing his attention up to me. “You better not!”

The laugh that leaves his mouth goes straight to my core. He reaches up and pulls me to bend over him so he can kiss me.

“Is that an order, Princess?” He asks against my lips and I grin.

“More like I’ll kick your ass if you do it,” I tease, kissing him again.

As I’m pulling away to go back to braiding his hair I feel eyes on us. Violet meeting teal and I bare my teeth in a wicked smile. I slide my fingers through his hair, gently pulling to tilt his head back, keeping eye contact with her as I lean down to kiss him again… stroking my tongue over his. He gasps in my mouth, reaching up to caress my head with a strong hand.

Anger lights in those eyes across the way and I grin as Lucien’s lips move to my throat, my free hand sliding around and down his chest—slipping under his shirt to feel heated skin.

I moan as he sucks on my skin, digging my nails into his chest and tightening my hand in his hair.

“Fuck,” Lucien growls, standing quickly from the chair, towering over me. “Come here.”

Then I’m being dragged away. I look over my shoulder smirking at Ianthe who is red in the face looking like she’s about to have a tantrum. She takes a step forward as if about to follow Lucien and I only to be stopped by Feyre, though I couldn’t hear what was being said before we disappeared into the thick woods.

“You’re nothing but trouble,” Lucien taunts, pushing me against a tree and attacking my mouth.

“You love it,” I gasp against his lips, reaching between us to work his pants open, ignoring the way the tree bark digs into my wings.

“Turn around,” he orders, but before I can move he’s got me spun around and pressed against the tree. “Hands.” Is his next order.

I present my wrists to him behind my back and his large hand wraps around them, pinning them to my lower back.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here, Princess,” Lucien says, the sound of his buckle coming undone making me shiver. “I want you to be loud enough that she hears you.”

I moan at that. Knowing exactly who he’s talking about without saying her name. Though it’s unlikely she’ll actually hear me from this distance over the music but the thought that she might? And probably had many times is something I love. She wants him so bad—not that I blame her. But to remind her he was mine over and over, that she would never get to have him made me feral.

I’m pulled from those thoughts when the skirt of my dress is being lifted, that hand of fire trailing between my thighs, rubbing at my wetness before ripping the stocking and panties I wore beneath.

“Tell me, sweet girl, are you turned on because of me? Or because you know she knows exactly what we’re doing out here?” Lucien asks, fingers sliding through my wetness, rubbing in that perfect spot until I was weak in the knees. Only held up by his weight pushing me against the tree.

“I asked a question,” He grunts, pulling that heat away from my center.

“Both,” I gasp out in a moan, needing his hand back. “Fuck, both.”

“That’s a good girl,” He praises, hand sliding back between my thighs, rubbing at me, two fingers sliding inside.

“Oh, fuck, Lu,” I moaned. His fingers weren’t as thick or long as his cock but they felt so good filling me up, curling perfectly to find that spot that had me seeing stars.

“I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” He leaned over me to breathe in my ear, careful of my wings, fingers pumping faster, “then on my cock. Then I’m gonna take you back to that party filled up. We’re going to tell everyone goodbye then I’m gonna take you home, tie you to the bed and have my godsdamn way with you.”

“Yes, please!” I cry out, clenching around his fingers, cumming entirely too easy just from the way he rubs that spot inside of me, just from the way his voice rasped against my ear.

His fingers slide from me but before I can protest I feel him press against me, pushing in, in, in until he’s fully sheathed inside of me. He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, the back of my shoulders between my wings. I wished he had ripped the damn dress from my body so I could feel his lips against my skin.

“That could be arranged,” He purrs, reaching around to grasp my breast, not realizing I had sent that through the bond.

“Lu, please,” I begged, pushing back against him. He hisses in pleasure, nipping at my neck before straightening his spine, still holding my wrist as he pulls his hips back, thrusting all the way back in. “Yesss.”

Then he fucks me. Hard and rough.

Bent over against a tree in the middle of the forest. I let every sound imaginable fall from my lips exactly the way he ordered me to. Between the events of the day, the flirting, the unwanted looks from another and the wine I was falling over the edge easily for the second time.

He slows his thrusts, giving me only a moment to catch my breath before he’s pulling out and spinning me back around. My knees buckle and I fall to the ground directly in front of him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so fucked out she can’t even stand,” Lucien coos, grasping my chin gently to tilt my head up, sliding his thumb into my mouth. I suck on the digit, batting my eyelashes at him, watching that fire burn in his eyes.

He reaches down, grabbing me around the waist and hauls me up, lifting me easily into his arms, my dress bunching between us. My arms and legs wrap around him and I kiss him. I can’t help it.

It only takes some slight maneuvering before he’s back inside of me, my calves over his forearms as he’s thrust into me. It was always such a turn on the way he could hold me like this, so easily, as he took me.

The bond suddenly lights up with warmth and my mind goes blank as I come again.

“Fill me up. Please, cum in me, I want it.”

I can feel how close he is without him saying anything. The sounds he’s making, the feelings through the bond. I know exactly when he’s about to cum and I moan as he fills me up

“So good, that was so good, Luc.”

He moans, eyes meeting mine and I smile at him. Pushing a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead.

He takes a few gasping breaths, holding me in his arms still, basking in the high of his orgasm. I wrap my wings around us as we stand there, providing us with some form of privacy should anyone stumble upon us.

“We should get back,” I tell him, kissing the tip of his pointed ear. Wanting nothing more than to just skip out on the goodbyes and just go back to the house.

“Just another minute,” he said breathy, one of his hands reaching to grasp my ass cheek. “Just wanna be inside of you.”

“Mm. We could just go say our goodbyes like this,” I offer, playing with the braid I put in his hair earlier. “Unfortunately that means quite a few males would see me with your cock—”

Lucien growls at that and I giggle when his eyes meet mine. “I would kill someone.”

I hum in response, kissing him.

“The thought of you killing someone simply for seeing my body shouldn’t be so sexy.”

His hearty laugh vibrates through my body—my favorite sound.

“Come on, Princess. Let’s get this over with so I can get you in my bed,” He says, slipping from my body and setting me getting on my feet, making sure I was steady before tucking himself away.

We take a few moments to collect ourselves, kissing softly between straightening the other clothes and fixing disheveled hair. Of course no one was stupid. They would scent the smell of sex on us but that didn’t mean we had to make it any more obvious.

By the time we got back the sun had been long gone from the sky, dozens of blazing fires lit the area now. I didn’t spot Ianthe anywhere but Feyre finds us within moments of us taking up a spot by the fire.

We had meant to say our goodbyes but Feyre offered me a glass of wine. Which led to another. And another. We danced with one another around the fire—Lucien taking turns spinning us around. I had no idea where Tamlin was and I honestly didn’t care.

It was when Feyre asked Lucien and I to escort her back to the manor. Being ever the gentleman he agreed. I was much more drunk than Feyre but Lucien offered an elbow to each of us, letting us hang on him as he led us back to the house.

We left Feyre at her bedroom, I giggled out a goodnight, grabbing her face and kissing her cheek. As we were turning away I tripped over my foot and giggled again.

“Luc, I’m drunk,” I said, as he grabbed my arm, wrapping it around his neck.

“Yeah, Princess, I know,” Lucien chuckled, leading me to our bedroom.

I felt so light and blissful, letting him undress me and clean me up. He pulled the pins from my hair and cleaned the makeup from my face sliding a nightgown onto my naked body.

He laid me back, pulling his comforter over my body, tucking me in tightly. “Get some sleep, sweet girl,” He smiles down at me, kissing my forehead.

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I woke up hours later to Lucien tossing and turning. Ever since the Mountain his sleep was more restless than not, dragging up traumas old and new.

My head pounded from all the wine I’d drunk but I watched his face, still peaceful despite the unease of his sleep. It was when a horrified grimace crossed his face that I took over. When I felt the bond run ice cold with fear, when I got a glimpse of that nightmare—one he’s had before, where it starts with Jesminda’s torture and right as she’s about to be executed she changes into me as Beron and Lucien’s brother’s force him to watch me be murdered.

I slip into his mind, caressing it gently, ending the dream easily before it gets to that horrid part. I crawl next to him, laying his head in my lap and carding my fingers through his hair, braiding and unbraiding pieces, scratching at his scalp gently.

Instead I show him Velaris, the life I want us to have there together, the life we always talked about.

Living in our home right on the river. Late night stroll under an endless diamond sky. A long and happy life with beautiful red headed, winged babies. All the adventures we could go on together when no longer stuck in the boundaries of the Spring Court. Having the bond declared in a ceremony, a proper wedding, going swimming in the Sidra, taking him to see Ramiel—there was so much I wanted to do with him.

We’ve had a good life together here in Spring. He had done everything to make it better for me once he realized who I was, that I was stuck here. Picnic dates by the pond, visits to farmers markets, naps under beautiful trees, drinking wine, horseback rides, festivals and gardening.

But we could have a better life. An amazing one instead of a good one and I wanted to spend it with him.

He shifts, arms wrapping around my legs, nuzzling against my thigh, pressing his lips to my tanned skin but he doesn’t wake. I lull him into a deeper sleep, thumbing away the crease between his eyebrows.

My head whips up at a sound across the hall, Feyres room. I listen carefully, hear her door open. Then there’s a gentle knock on our door. She must have had a nightmare too…maybe I should start checking in on her at night.

I gently untangle myself from Lucien’s embrace, pulling the bed sheet over his body before sliding from the bed. There’s a second knock just before I reach the door. I scanned her head to toe quick—sweaty and disheveled but not physically harmed.

“I heard you, are you okay?” I asked, stepping to the side to let her into the room, scanning the hall for any sign of trouble. There seemed to be nothing.

The room was lit mainly by the moon light and I watched her look around the room. The night gown she wore was above mid thigh but she turned around to look at me before I could question her motive.

“I had a dream about it,” she rasped thickly, “Under the Mountain. I couldn’t remember where I was.”

I nod my head in understanding. Lucien had similar dreams. I wanted to kill Amarantha all over again for what she had done. To Feyre. To Lucien. To my brother. To thousands and thousands of fae.

“What did you dream of tonight?” I asked, stepping closer to her.

“She had me spiked to the wall like Clare Beddor. And the Attor was—” She shuddered, running her hands over her face.

I walked closer to her, a frown on my face, wanting to provide her with some kind of comfort. There’s something in the house, a vibration, I feel it but before I can question it she’s thrown her arms around me. I don’t object as she buries her face against my neck, warm tears falling on my bare skin. I let out a small sigh, sliding an arm around her waist, the other caressing her head, stroking over her dark golden hair.

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” I breathed, kissing the crown of her head. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Her cries and tears eventually subside but I continued to hold her. Allowing her to take the comfort she needed from me. I pulled back slightly, caressed her face gently, wiping away the remaining tears. I looked at her, I knew she could see the concern in my eyes, but there was something else in hers, something not completely of the fear and sadness she was presenting.

“Why are you—”

“What’s going on?” Tamlin’s deep voice rumbles through the room. I turned my head slightly to look at him, he stood there face a mask of cold calm, the beginnings of claws glinting at his knuckles—looking as if he’d caught us in the middle of something naughty.

“I had a nightmare,” she explained, pulling, straightening her nightgown. I fought the urge to smile. “I-I didn’t want to wake the house.”

Tamlin knew I didn’t sleep in here most nights. Lucien either slept in my room or we slept separately, so in his eyes Feyre had to have been seeking out the comfort of Lucien after her nightmare.

He just stood there staring at us. Eyes glancing at Lucien before looking at me with narrowed eyes, a glare that I returned. His mouth tightened into a thin line and I nearly snarled at him—those claws still half drawn.

“I had a nightmare,” Feyre repeated sharply, walking forward to grip Tamlin’s arm, turning him but he looked back at me. I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked at him as she led him from the room closing the door.

“You little shit, your lucky Lucien wasn’t awake, Tamlin would’ve killed him,” I told her crawling back in bed with my mate.

“I wouldn’t let that happen. I needed to plant some kind of doubt in his mind. You seemed to do the trick though,” Feyre’s answer came five minutes later, laughter in her voice.

“You should have told me I would have kissed you right in front of him,” I teased back, sliding under the sheet, cuddling up to that warm body.

“Next time,” Is her response, a mental image of her winking and blowing me a kiss followed.

I laughed out loud.

“What’s going on?” Lucien asks, a slight frown on his face at being woken suddenly.

I grinned, kissing his chest.

“Nothing, my love. Go back to sleep,” I whispered, easily slipping into his mind to lull him back to sleep.

I grinned to myself.

“Burn it down, Feyre” I told her. “Burn it all down.”

Fuck Tamlin. And fuck the Spring Court.

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tag list: @sleepylunarwolf @stained-glass-eyes0708 @saltedcoffeescotch @cherry-cin @xmalfoyweasleyx @jesskidding3 @minaethrym @scorpioriesling @inloveallthetime @paleidiot

#the way I’m obsessing over my own story #I’m already considering a prequel of sorts from the beginning of the first book #BUT #Feyre and Rhys’ sister is one of my fav relationships so far #they’re just so fun #yes I have that Lucien scene to Rhys’ sister #tamlins jealous self would definitely think they were about to get down and dirty together in their tiny night gowns #lucien vanserra #lucien vanssera x reader #lucien fanfic #pro lucien vanserra #Princess of dreams

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 5 months

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Word count: 2100+

Warnings: mentions of fight, blood

This chapter was inspired by @nocasdatsgay and her stimulating questions😉 Thank you for always reading and commenting on this fiction💕

Part XX | Part XXII

You stood in a rose garden, fog lazily rolling on the ground and around your legs. Light was so soft that you couldn't say what time of day it was. You had no idea how you got here nor where you were or how to get out.

The pendant between your collar bones was warm to touch. You had a strange feeling. You turned around, finding only roses. Thousands and thousands of roses of all colours. You needed to look for something. However you wasn't sure what that something could be and so you aimlessly wandered around until you got to a low marble pedestal. The smooth white marble with golden veins was carved into the shape of a bed.

On the pedestal was lying beautiful young male seemingly asleep, shiny golden strands of his long hair spread around his head. His broad chest heaved with deep breaths.

Tamlin.

You finally remembered. You were here looking for Tamlin.

You ran to him, squeezing his hand, but he didn't move. His skin was cold to touch, unyielding as that marble.

"Tamlin?" Nothing. Not even a muscle moved in his calm face. "Tamlin? Do you hear me?"

He didn't react. You tried to shake his shoulder with the same result. Your heart sank, tears lining your eyes. You sat down next to him and caressed his face gently. He looked so calm.

"I see you," a voice came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. There was no doubt, you knew the voice. It belonged to Tamlin, though his mouth didn't move at all. "In my dreams.. I see you.. even when I'm awake.. Who are you?"

"I'm Y/N. Have you forgotten?" You leaned closer, cupping his face.

"Y/N.."

"Yes, Y/N. You gave me this name. Please, try to remember. Return to me, Tamlin."

He didn't seem to listen to your words, his mind as hazed as the garden around.

"Y/N.. I keep dreaming about you even when I'm awake. Why?"

"Because it isn't dream, Tamlin. I'm here, right next to you. Open your eyes." He didn't move, motionless like a statue, cold as a stone. You inhaled readying to tell him more.

The dream disappeared replaced by bright light of late morning penetrating through dirty windows.

It was just a dream, yet it felt so real. Just like the one you had some time ago back in Velaris. Your heart painfully throbbed in your chest, eyes filled with hot tears. What could that mean?

Two warm bodies pressed against you from each side. The heat was unbearable. It was also quite uncomfortable because you were used sleeping alone. Sighing you touched the pendant hidden under the dress and at that movement one of the bodies rolled away. Good. Cool air bit into your left side causing a shiver running down your spine at the sudden heat loss.

You turned to the right intending to push the other body away, too. You were met with bright emerald eyes with golden flecks, already staring at you. Tamlin was still in his beast form, but his eyes changed during the night.

"Tam?" you questioned. The purr like sound came in answer. He watched you with interest. You sat up and sinking your fingers into his fur you caressed his head.

His eyes closed at that touch and he leaned closer, licking the back of your other hand and nuzzling to your palm. "Can you speak?" He made a whimpering sound. You smiled at him reassuringly. "It's okay. Take your time."

" 'morning," a hoarse voice muffled by sleep spoke from behind you.

"Look," you turned to Lucien with beaming smile.

He was lying on his back with hand shielding his eyes against the bright light. Wounded hand was carefully rested on his stomach. He cracked his russet eye open, focusing on you. You rolled your eyes and nodded with chin to Tamlin, now nuzzling to your legs. When he noticed the colour of his eyes, Lucien sat up swiftly, drawing a deep growl from the beast.

"Easy," Lucien laughed nervously raising his hands. "It's just me, Tam. Lucien."

"He still doesn't speak, but his eyes are again normal colored."

Lucien's gaze turned to you, watching you thoughtfully. "I knew it. Just one night and he's already getting better." You grinned, kissing the top of Tamlin's head.

Lucien agreed to go out to get some food for all three of you. Tamlin was too weak to stand up, although too stubborn to let you leave his side for even a while, so you stayed with him sitting on mattresses and waited for Lucien's return. At some point Tamlin drifted back to sleep while you stroked his head soothingly.

There was no warning of what was to come.

Rhysand stormed into the room like a dark cloud, panic and rage seeping from every part of his tall figure. In a blink of eye Tamlin's huge body flew through the air to the opposite side of room, hitting the wall with a loud thud. Whining in pain he slid down, staying on the floor.

"How could you," you gasped scrambling to your feet while fighting with the long skirt of your dress.

Rhysand blocked your way, embracing you firmly. "Thank the Mother! I was so worried-"

"Are you out of your mind, Rhys?" you snapped at him, catching him by surprise. He took a step back, pulling you with him, gaping at you. You tried to push him away, but he wouldn't let go.

"I won't allow him to get any closer to you. I saw the fresh blood downstairs. He's dangerous," he hissed angrily. You fought with him, hitting his chest and arms, but it had a little to no effect at him. Meanwhile he was trying to calm you down.

Deep growl was the only warning before sharp fangs snapped in front of your face, at the place where your brother's head was just moments ago, cutting only through air.

Rhysand managed to avoid the attack, but he had to release you in the process. He stood up, ready to repay that. Growling Tamlin stood between the two of you, saliva mixed with blood dripping on the floor.

"No!" You wrapped your arms around him, frowning at your brother. "You promised you wouldn't hurt him."

The tattoo on your shoulder burned and Rhys' had to hurt even more. Rhysand halted, assessing the situation.

"Y/N, slowly come to me," he reached out his hand to you.

"Tamlin won't hurt me, but it doesn't mean he won't hurt you. Especially if he thinks you threaten me."

"I do not-" Rhysand snapped, but changed his mind when the beast snarled at him, baring the fangs. "Sweetheart, please. Tamlin .. he's gone. This beast isn't him anymore. He's going to hurt you whether unintentional or not."

"I've spent last 10 hours with him and I'm fine." You showed him whole your body, so that he could see that there isn't a single drop of blood on you and the dress. He sized you up for head to toes and back up.

"That means nothing. He can get angry and-"

"You mean like right now?" You took a few steps, stopping in front of the beast's mouth. "Just look how angry he is." Tamlin stared at Rhysand, unblinking, growling.

Rhysand gasped. "Y/N, stop! Get away from him." You sent him angry glare and turned to the beast, placing your hands on his head with thumbs too close to the corners of his mouth. Just one move and he could bite off whole your hand easily.

"Tamlin," you spoke calmly to him. His eyes immediately moved to your face. He stopped growling and calmed down. "Are you hurt?" You knew he couldn't speak yet, but a small whimper was enough good answer for you.

"You see?" You looked back at your brother, running your fingers through the soft fur. "He won't hurt me."

Rhys shook his head. "But he could. Come back home with me," he pleaded.

"I am home," you sighed. You whispered to Tamlin to not worry and stay calm and pivoting walked to the place your brother stood at. You didn't dare to look at his face, knowing very well what you would see. Instead you hugged him. His arms squeezed your waist, hiding his face in your shoulder he relaxed a little.

"I'm so sorry, Rhys.. I like Velaris and I love you. And our family. I'm so grateful for what you have done for me, for returning my memories and everything. But this is my home. I've spent centuries living here."

"I just want my sister to be safe and with me. That's all," he breathed out lowly.

"I understand. I really do. I also want my overprotective big brother close by. But.. you have your Court and lovely wife. You started your own new family. I want to find my own happiness, too."

He sighed heavily. "And what about Az?"

"I think he understands how I feel and accepts it."

"All the time.. he knew you left, right? His behaviour was..strange last night and even in the morning."

"Don't be angry at him. I made him to promise." A lie smoothly slid from your lips.

Rhysand snorted with amusement. He always knew when you lied to him. This time it wasn't different. "He loves you too much when he allowed you to corner him like that." You were glad he wouldn't use this against Shadowsinger. "How did you get here anyway?"

Oops. Good thing Lucien wasn't here. You had to come with something enough truthful to pass your brother's lie detector.

"I winnowed," you said, your voice even. "Your help and those lessons we tried, were actually very helpful." Two unrelated truths connected into one lie.

While city was preparing for Starfall, Rhys offered to ease the fear and horrors of your memories which you gladly accepted because they were haunting you day and night and you didn't want to end up like the last time - too broken to fight. You had a mission and needed to be prepared and capable of offering all help and support that would be necessary.

He also patiently listened to you, letting you get everything that bothered you out, talking with you until you felt better. In the end, you ended up trying even some easy magic. You had a lot to be grateful for. To him and to Azriel, too. They both got you from the worst. And even though you still weren't completely healed, you felt much better these last few days.

"I don't want to leave you here," he whispered to your ear after being silent for a while.

You heard Tamlin nervously trampling over behind you, his claws scratching floor, small growls escaping him.

"I'll be safe here. He'll protect me."

Rhys straightened, frowning at nervous beast. "I hope you heard that. I'm willing to let her stay here and do as she pleases with one condition. If something happens to her, anything, I won't forgive you. Ever. And I'll find a way to revenge on you a hundredfold."

Tamlin snarled baring his fangs. They stared at each other for a few heartbeats and then Rhys simply nodded and looked down at you.

"Also I want to visit you. Often. Actually so often that you will wish to move back in."

You raised a brow. "I doubt that. Anyway you are always welcome."

His jaw tightened and then he smiled. It was very sad smile. He embraced you one more time and reluctantly releasing you, he winnowed away.

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Tamlin behind you collapsed. He was heaving when you pulled his head to your lap. You checked him for any wounds, finding just few already half healed bruises.

"Are you okay? Lucien will return soon with some food. Just hold on a little longer."

"I'm already here," he spoke from threshold, his expression serious.

It was clear he returned finding Rhysand in here and wisely stayed hidden. "I got us some bread and veggies. We can make him soup later."

His lips were pressed into thin line, eyes narrowed at you.

"I'm fine," you assured him.

"You lied to fucking Rhysand, the most dangerous High Lord ever, to protect me. I want you to know that when I brought you here, I knew what was to come. And I was ready for that. You don't have to cover for me."

You shrugged. "I know. I did it because I wanted. After all, that fucking High Lord is my brother. And your mate lives in his house."

Lucien tensed.

"It would be such a pity if he didn't let you in, the next time you go to try your luck with her."

"How do you-"

You shrugged again, not wanting to talk about that. You took a piece of bread he handed you and offered small piece to Tamlin. He didn't seem to want it, but when you told him to eat it, he listened.

You ate your late breakfast in silence.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot

#english isnt my first language #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin x reader #tamlin acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #lucien vanserra #rhysand acotar #rhysand's sister #acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin x you #sarah j maas #tumblr writers

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viktoriaashleyyx · 10 days

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This is a pro Tamlin, anti Rhysand self insert revenge fic. All characters belong to SJM, but she wasn't treating them right. Tam x reader, Tam x Rhysands Sister (OC), First person narrative. This will also reference Elucien and Neris in the future but we aren't there yet.

We are headed to the House of Wind to confront RhySAnd and we see more of Sky's past as she taunts RhySAnd with it.

Tw: Discusses RhySAnds SA of Feyre UTM, magical violence.

((Thank you for being patient with me. Moving sucks, but things are starting to settle down now))

Ch 1

Ch 6 >> Ch 8

Chapter 7:

Today is the day we were heading to the House of Wind. I had sent a letter to Rhysand offering to meet him, that Tamlin will join me, it took him a few days to respond. Lucien was back on his feet feeling good as new.

After putting on one of my dresses, I sat at the vanity as Tamlin braided my hair, he was getting better at it. This has become almost a morning ritual for us. Brushing and braiding each other's hair as we discuss what's on our mind. Today we were both silent, we didn't want to do this, but at least we will be together.

When we were both ready we joined Lucien in the dining hall for breakfast.

“I almost want to go with you, just to see the look on Rhysands face as I walk in there unscathed.” Lucien admitted.

“I'd rather see the hate in Feyres eyes when I tell her you're dead by Rhysands hand,” I teased.

Lucien chuckled, Tamlin wasn't amused.

“You could go in disguise.” I joked, “have Tamlin turn you into a Raven and perch on my shoulder if you're so nosey.”

“Don't tempt me with a good time.” Lucien was going with it.

“No,” Tamlin huffed.

“Please, imagine how badass I would look walking in with a raven on my shoulder.” I whined. Still teasing, trying to lighten my nerves.

“I'm okay with that.” Lucien shrugged. Tamlin just groaned.

♡♡♡♡♡

“No, not a red raven, they're gonna recognize him. A normal raven.” I ordered.

“I can't believe we are actually doing this.” Tamlin sighed.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

I portaled us to the door of the House of Wind, held Tamlins hand, and knocked. He was nervous, he had never been to Velaris before, but, thanks to my brother, the secrecy of this city has faltered.

“There's my baby sister! Can I finally get that hug?” Rhysand tried to embrace me and I put my hand on his chest pushing him back.

“I don't like to be touched.” I said dryly. “See how easy it was for me to show up on the OUTSIDE of your house and KNOCK?” I judged. “Show us to where we are having this meeting.”

“So bossy,” Rhysand teased, “you're not even the slightest bit happy to see me?”

He led us to a large sitting room, Tamlin and I sat on one couch, well, I perched on the edge, (how do the other illyrians sit here comfortably?) Rhysand and Feyre on the other, with who I assume to be, Feyre's sister and either Cassian or Azriel, I couldn't remember, the one with long hair, sitting in the corner, obviously eavesdropping. “Why would I be happy to see you? The last time you threw Lucien's dead body at me.”

Rhysands face dropped, he expected me to be more subtle. Feyre's face lined with shock as tears welled up in her eyes. “What? What is she talking about, Rhysand? You told me he left to stay at the Spring court.”

“Well? It was obviously a cry for attention, now you have it. What do you want from me?” I said coldly, cutting her off.

“I just want you home, where you belong.” Rhysand said, annoyed that he will surely have to weave another lie to Feyre later.

“I am where I belong. Is that all? You just want another prisoner to add to your collection?” I noticed Feyres sisters' ears perk up. She had no walls built up to protect her mind, odd for someone living in a house with daemati.

“You wouldn't be a prisoner.” Rhysand snapped.

I laughed, “no one generally chooses to stay in your company, brother.” Feyre still had pain on her face, lost in thought and trying to hold it together just long enough to finish the meeting. Hmm, it seems she might still have a heart after all.

“I would just like to show you around Velaris, catch up and show you what I've accomplished in the past years.” Rhysand admitted, trying, and failing, to stay collected.

“Velaris has always been perfect and protected, as done by our grandfather. If you want to impress me, show me how you have improved the lives of the people in the Hewn city and illyria.” Velaris citizens were safe, well cared for and ruled justly. Illyria has been used as my family's own personal warrior farm, and the Hewn City citizens trapped since long before I was born. “Tell me, do the majority of Illyrian citizens still live in tents?”

“We are doing our best in illyria. It's not as easy as you think.” Rhysand replied with a slight hint of attitude. He wasn't used to someone calling him out on his fallacies.

“Huh, I would believe that 500 years is plenty of time for the most powerful high lord.” I said mockingly. He loved to spit that phrase unto himself, a gross display of arrogance was all it ever was. “Tell me, how many mansions do you have now?”

“Six,” Feyre whispered, deep in thought, she seemed like she also had not heard anyone question him.

“Gross.” I replied bluntly. “Mother isn't going to be happy to hear about this.”

“Mom is alive?” Rhysand gasped, a light flickered in his eyes, Feyres jaw dropped slightly, the other Illyrian stared at me. “Where is she?”

“She lives amongst the warrior women of Brokilon, a forest warded well against anyone who wishes it or its inhabitants harm. I don't mind telling you this because there is absolutely no way for you to get there without my help. It's located in an entirely different realm. I needed divine intervention to return, something you would never be able to hack.” Every eye was on me, as they tried to make sense of it. “Our sister and I visit her regularly, she doesn't ask about you much.”

“Sister?” Rhysand seemed to finally be speechless. That last line stung.

“Yes, Yennefer. Half human, half Illyrian. She is an insanely powerful mage. She looks like us, violet eyes, black hair, but no wings. She had a slightly easier time in that realm considering they kill ‘Pointy ears’ on sight there. Think of what I would look like masquerading as a human, and that's her.”

“A mage?” Feyre questioned.

“Yes, in that realm magic is pulled from many sources, not just the earth, and they use that magic to.. mutate(?) humans into immortals. Thats where I learned the portals.”

“How did you and mother get there? How did you survive?” Rhysand pressed. I am not going to lie, I am enjoying the attention.

“When Tamlins father raised his blade to strike me,” I gripped Tamlins hand, I didn't blame him for breaking when the information of my location was tortured out of him. “I panicked. I held mother tight and reached out for any escape, and when I opened my eyes, we were in a forest I had never seen before. An Ash forest. I learned later that the power I grasped was chaos, not the power of the land.”

“Don't forget it was Tamlin who had you killed. He locked Feyre up and he hurt her.” Rhysand spit.

“He didn't ‘have me killed’ if I am currently sitting here, Rhysand. Mother and I are both alive, that is more than I can say for my predecessor, the last Lady of Spring” I retorted with a too sweet smile. While we hadn't exactly made it official, how could we with an empty court, this is the first time I have claimed that title. I wanted to turn to see Tamlins reaction, but I didn't want to lead on how significant this was to the others in the room. Tamlin showed his approval by softly moving his thumb over the back of my hand.

“And fair, yes, both Tamlin and Feyre made mistakes, that is not my place to comment on. Keep in mind, though, WE are the ones that wanted to stay away. You drug us here. Tamlin apologized, she didn't accept, and since then he has mostly kept to his own court. You and your brutes are the ones that keep going to him. Tell me, did you ever apologize to Feyre for what you did to her under the mountain?” I could see out of the corner of my eye, Feyres sister was shocked. She obviously didn't know what all the other High lords and courts witnessed. Rhysand and Feyres eyes both narrowed at me.

“If there is anything that is not your place to bring up-” Rhysand started.

“You did it so publicly,” I cut him off, “all the other High lords in Prythia became unwilling participants to your weird exhibitionst kink. You even admitted you did it to hurt Tamlin.”

“What did he do?” Feyres sister demanded through clenched teeth.

“Nothing Nesta. Mind your business.” Feyre snapped.

“He drugged her, and made her the nightly entertainment for all the courts under the mountain as she was stripped naked and forced to dance for him. If you knew she was your mate, why would you treat her that way?” Directed to Rhysand, then back to Feyre, “why cant your older sister know? Everyone else in Prythia does.”

“He did it to protect me.”

“Is that what he told you? You deserve better, babygirl.”

Rhysand was losing control. Both Lucien and Tamlin had the metal shields up that protected them from Rhysands daemati powers. So what does any self centered brat do when they are losing control? They change the subject, hoping to garner favor.

“I still remember you, bowed down kissing my boot and begging,” Rhysand taunted Tamlin.

I heard him take a deep breath, Lucien's talons gripped into my shoulder and I tried not to flinch at the pain. I retorted quickly, “what for? Oh that's right, it was to convince you to not sell Feyre out to Amarantha. Or should I say ‘Claire.’ Right? I wonder if your love for your mate is strong enough to entice you to do the same, dear brother.” Feyre began to choke.

Nesta was angry, confused, trying to process everything she just heard. Shock lined the Illyrian males face too, he hadn't heard either.

“Let her go.” Rhysand snarled at me, unmoving. His eyes void of any emotion.

“Ah, ah,” I sang, pointing a finger down to my boot. “You know what I want.”

“I will never bow to you,”

“Quickly, she's fading fast.”

Nesta cried out and bowed herself. The illyrian brute holding her back, Rhysand remained still, not breaking eye contact. I sent a message to her mind, Feyre will not die, I promise.

“Enough, Sky.” Tamlin growled at me.

I released my grip on her lungs and she took a heavy breath, fear, anger and confusion in her eyes.

“Let it be known, Feyre, that your ‘mate’ wouldn't even move a muscle to save you, but Tamlin questioned even me.” I said to her softly. “It seems you have a lot to think about.”

“Let's go,” Tamlin hissed at me. Uh oh, I am in trouble. I opened a portal home and we left.

♡♡♡♡♡

“We don't hurt people, Sky, that's not who we are.” Tamlin was angry. He shifted Lucien back to normal.

“I was in full control the entire time, I was not going to let her die,” my response was cold.

“I thought it was great,” Lucien muttered, eyes wide, but not meeting ours.

“If you are jealous of her–” Tamlin accused.

“JEALOUS? of her?” I cut him off and raised my voice, “I am angry with her. I do not give half a fuck who you had in your bed while I was gone, Tamlin, what I do care about is her destruction of my court. You, and her, were so incredibly toxic together it ended with entire cities burnt to ash, my people lost their homes because you two couldn't talk to each other. That is where my frustration starts and ends. My people, families, children, entire lives uprooted and destroyed. People shouldn't have to suffer because their leader is going through a break up. Childish nonsense caused me to return home to an abandoned court..” my voice softened, ever so slightly, “you are doing the work to rebuild and correct your mistakes while she is gallivanting around the night court like the sun shines out of her ass. She shows no remorse, no empathy for the people she destroyed. I cannot express how little I care that you enjoyed the taste of her.”

His stance softened and he whispered “I'm sorry, Sky.”

“Don't ever question where my loyalties lie, again.” I spit. Lucien reached a hand out to me, and I turned and stormed off to compose myself.

♡♡♡♡♡

I found myself outside my old gallery, a room I have dreamed of returning to for 300 years, I opened the door and creeped in.

It was obvious that others have used this, Tamlin admitted as much, admitted that Feyre would paint in here. I carefully studied the art laid out around the room, the paints and brushes strung out and left to dry. I felt a twinge in my chest, was it jealousy? No, I didn't seriously expect an entire room left empty for so long, did I?

And then I found hers. Much simpler art than the realism I painted in, lots of abstract splotches and lines, and crudely drawn pictures. It was beautiful in its own right, obviously done while she was a human. A human. Turned Fae, after the atrocities of Amarantha. Still a child by Fae years, forced into Prythia, forced into marriage after marriage. I know as well as anyone what a prison a crown truly is, her youth, her freedom, stolen from her by tradition, power, and lust. I had been treating her as the High Lady she chose to be, I wonder if that decision was made with her properly informed consent, or just pushed on her by my brother.

♡♡♡♡

An hour or so later, I headed out to find Tamlin. My head was clear now and we needed to talk.

He was in his study, hunched over his desk, head in his hands. It was dark now, the moonlight was the only thing illuminating the room. “Tam?” I creaked the door open and entered slowly. He didn't respond.

I walked over to him and laid a gentle hand on his back. “My love,” I whispered, “can we talk? I'm sorry I blew up today.” He slid his chair out and pulled me onto his lap, holding me in his arms as I nestled my head in his neck.

“I love you, I am sorry I upset you.” Tamlin whispered. “I just didn't expect that today. I shouldn't have accused you. I don't, honestly, think that low of you, I was just angry.”

“I shouldn't have hurt her like that. I used her to shut my brother up the same way he used Lucien. Tensions were high today. I wanted to just stay away but my brother is so spoiled he can't take no for an answer. I'm sorry, I understand that seeing her in pain is not easy for you.” He just held me tighter, and I kissed his neck.

“I don't like leaving Spring.” Tamlin admitted quietly, “It just makes me feel sick every second I am outside my borders.”

“You're gonna have to pick one,” my voice soft and sweet, “either you swallow your worry, or your unease. I need to be able to leave if we are going to rebuild.” I lifted my hand to caress his cheek, slowly brushing his golden hair behind his ear. He laid a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“So, Lady of Spring, huh?” He smiled sweetly down at me, I sat up and turned slightly to look him in the face. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” I breathed leaning in closer, our lips almost touching, “unless you object?”

He pulled me in closer and kissed me deeply, “I would never object to that.”

Tag list: @ladythornofrivia @rcarbo1 @rin-u-pos @knoxic @lilah-asteria @littlefantasylover

#tamlin x reader #tamlin x rhysand sister #tamlin x oc #tamlin healing arc #tamlin fanfic #pro tamlin #anti rhysand #anti rhysand fanfic #acotar #acotar critical #tamlin #pro lucien #pro lucien vanserra

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acourtofinkandpapyrus · 1 year

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A Flower With Petals of Flame: Part one (Eris x reader Rhys's sister)

Warnings: Injuries and murder and mentions of trauma

I'm so excited this one won the vote! So as Y/n returns to the world of the living, she has to decide whether to save the male who caused her, and her mother's murders, or save him.

Part two

Tag list: open

I screamed as I fell to the ground, my head fuzzy and my stomach churning.

What had happened? I had been walking along, trying to form a plan for…

I take a deep breath, the crisp air and smell of roses pushing into my nostrils. I look at the small grass clearing that makes me tense, memories of terror flitting through my head.

This was the Spring court. Somehow- somehow I was back among the living. Landing right back where my and my mother’s lives had been taken from us.

“Please! Please spare my darling girl!” My mother cries as she’s shoved to the ground, the little lords or spring preparing their weapons, the high lord of spring holding a giant ax as he watches.

I look to Tamlin with tears in my eyes, pleading with him, “Tam, please. Please don’t let them hurt us.”

He looks away, ashamed.

It wasn’t him who was about to lose his life though.

I snap back into reality, hearing voices in the distance. My first instinct is to climb into a tree, wait for them to pass.

But I can hear the angry tones, and I force myself to be silent as I slip through the trees to see where the commotion is coming from.

“Look at this, the High Lord of Spring, on his knees before us.” A cruel male voice said, and I peeked through the foliage to see Tamlin on his knees before a bunch of men, snarling with an arrow in his leg and shoulder.

They looked as if they were laced with faebane.

I wasn’t breathing. He was kneeling there, just as my mother and I had before him and his family.

I could just leave him there, to his fate. Let him die the way he had let us die.

But… my feet wouldn’t move.

I had only just been brought back to life, and I was already about to get myself killed again.

The only thing was that I wasn’t the same weak girl who had died here before.

I searched about, quickly finding a large, heavy rock.

And threw it right at the leader of the group, striking him right in the temple.

“Leave him alone.” I said, lowering my voice in an attempt to hide my identity. I could have used my magic, but that would have been even more telling than my voice.

The males unsheathed their sword, looking for where my voice had come from, and Tamlin stilled.

Please, please don’t recognise me.

“Show yourself you wretch!” The male whom I had hit with the rock snarled, spinning around.

I shifted so I was better hidden. I had no weapons, and against three males who each had at least two weapons…

I should have come up with a better plan.

“How about you show your face you coward!” He continued to shout, but I just smiled as I saw the red haired male who appeared behind him.

Watching as Lucian killed the leader, Tamlin throwing off the two males that were holding him down, I couldn’t help but notice how much they had changed, how different they were then I had seen them last. Lucian had a metal eye now, his face holding more trauma than it had when I knew him.

Tamlin… Even as he killed the last of the males, looked tired and broken. He looked as if he was already half dead.

I watch as they look at the dead males, with coats of bone white, the color of Hybren.

But the king of Hybren is dead.

So who were they following?

I hold my breath, all thoughts on pause as Lucian eyes land on my hiding spot, his metal eye whirring.

Mother above, could he see me?

“Would you like to come join us, or were you planning to wait until we were distracted?” Lucian asked, the words cautious and sharp.

I tense up as Tamlin looks my way too.

I bit my lip, I could run away, and I could surely outrun Tamlin.

But maybe not Lucian.

Taking a calming breath, I step out into the small clearing, were both males stood there, shock keeping them both silent.

“Hi?”

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stargirlfeyre · 3 months

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It starts to hit you how little Sjm cares for Tamlin once you realize he has no plot foreshadowing like other characters.

Like let’s break it down…

Feysand are foreshadowed to be High Queen and King

Elain is foreshadowed to be a spy or courtier with Lucien

Nesta is foreshadowed to lead the Valkyries as a general. Emerie and Gwyn joining her.

Azriel is foreshadowed to deal with the Illyrians and there’s also some suspicion with Koschei.

Cassian’s foreshadowing also ties into Nesta’s. Not leading the Valkyries but those two being generals together (also his work with Illyrian women is likely going to lead him to start recruiting them to join the Valkyries).

Lucien is foreshadowed to inherit the Day Court when Helion dies or officially become heir to the Day Court once his paternity is revealed.

Eris is foreshadowed to become High Lord of Autumn

Even Vassa has some believable theories about her situation with Koschei.

And Tamlin is foreshadowed…to die.

Even Feysand, who y’all say has a complete story, is still pushed into the center of the plot and given an arc as serious as a High Ruler one. Meanwhile Tamlin, who y’all say is still important, is only talked about when it’s time to criticize his current state?

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achaotichuman · 5 days

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A Court of Song and Desolation Rewritten

Almost a year and three months ago, I published the first chapter of A Court of Song and Desolation (then named Get Out While You Still Can (Please Don't Leave Me)

But since then, my life has done a complete 180, my writing has changed and I lost track of ACOSAD, in the end I put it on the back burner and have neglected it.

However, I am extremely attached to this fic, the characters, the plot, the story, and I wanted to try and do it justice. So, this is the rewritten version. The old version is still up to be read but it will not longer be updated. I hope you guys enjoy this version of it! (link for AO3 at bottom of the post)

(Main) POVs

Tamlin

Lucien Vanserra

Elain Archeron

Koschei

Azriel

(Main) Relationships

Tamlin x Lucien Vanserra

Azriel x Eris Vanserra

Elain Archeron x Gwyneth Bedara

Koschei x Male Character

Summary

In the low lamplight, I was free Heaven and hell were words to me When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth Work Song: Hozier

It's been a year since the final battle of Hybern, and Spring remains in ruin. Darkness fabrics the land as its High Lord rots forgotten. Lucien, being unable to stand the distance growing between him and the male he once called his closest friend, decides to bring him to the Human Lands. But soon, a new threat tied to Koschei begins to unearth itself, promising to uproot Prythian entirely, and it has set its eyes on Tamlin.

Elain Archeron is lost to her dreams and visions, reality blurring, time and space intertwining and unravelling. Memories of who she once was are twisted now, and a woman from her past has been haunting her. After meeting Mintheal and Emerald, two escapees from the Hewn City, she decides it's beyond time to step beyond the Night Court and take fate into her own hands.

The Death God Koschei is the last threat left to eliminate, no one has yet seen the strings that move him, and the puppet master has decided its their time to come out from behind the curtain.

Dm or reply in notes if you want to be tagged for updates (:

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highlordofkrypton · 5 months

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For the second prompt of Day 4 of @tamlinweek, please enjoy the small moments of Happily Ever After in Tamlin's life.

There is also a direct correlation between Tamlin's happiness and him being an idiot with his best friends. (Lookin' @ u Cassian)

Read Happy Endings on AO3 or below the cut:

The thing about ‘happily ever after’ is that is that it begs the question—after what? Happiness, in Tamlin’s opinion, is not an end. It is constantly in motion, and cyclical. It is intangible; no matter how hard he tries, he cannot capture it. Although, he has figured it out.

Happiness is not a state of mind.

Happiness lives within others.

CASSIAN

“You broke my nose, you fuck!”

Tamlin grins, a little too smug. The rules of their sparring is simple: don’t kill each other. Everything else is fair game, but Tamlin has never bothered with weapons. Not when he can shape himself into whatever he dreams of, and Nature has provided him with all the tools he needs to achieve his ends.

Today, he just wants to even the score.

“I owed you one. More than one, actually.”

Cassian makes an incoherent sound of frustration, setting the bone back in place without a complaint. “What else was I supposed to do with a big ass Spring Court invader in our war camps?”

“Rhysand invited me,” Tamlin deadpans. He’s pretty sure Cassian headbutt him all those years ago (and broke his nose) to prove a point. To think, everyone thinks Tamlin is the brute.

“Whatever, I’m not sorry.”

“Actually,” Morrigan chimes in. “May I propose literally any other way of greeting each other? Have you considered ‘hello’? I hear it’s all the rage with all other sane beings in this world.”

Both Tamlin and Cassian look at one another, they grin, two idiotic peas in a pod, before looking back at her and responding in perfect synchonicity: “Nah.”

Morrigan sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose with manicured nails. “There’s two of them. Two of them!”

As if to prove her point, Cassian turns and headbutts Tamlin in the face.

“Ack! My nose! Now we’re even.”

“No, that makes us uneven. Learn to count, you fuck!”

ELERI

The pitter-patter of light feet captures his attention. He’s curled on the lounge chair, reading one of Rhysand’s books. It’s a human fairytale that Eleri had mentioned, something about prince charmings and damsels in distress. Absent-mindedly, Tamlin twirls the ring on his finger made of Illyrian steel. It belonged to the Lady of the Night, passed down to him as Rhysand’s chosen-mate.

The pitter-patter continues, and Rhysand’s little sister pops up behind the back of the chair, regarding him with her big violet eyes. She flutters her lashes and smiles at him. “Hi, Tamlin.”

“Hello, Eleri.” He shuts the book carefully and raises a brow at her. She wants something, but with her, he can never guess what it is.

She rests her chin in her palms, admiring him. It’s strange to call her little. Yes, she is very small in stature, taking after her mother, but she is technically older than Tamlin. Most of his newfound family is.

“What?”

“I need your help.”

Without question, Tamlin gets up. “Lead the way.”

There isn’t anything Tamlin wouldn’t do for her. He’s saved her life once, and he would do it again without second thought. He doesn’t bother questioning her; the bounce in her step means that whatever she needs help with will be entertaining at the very least.

Together, they find Azriel in the House of Wind’s study, looking through the High Lord’s papers. The shadowsinger raises a brow in Tamlin’s direction, but Tamlin has only a shrug to offer him.

“Tamlin, please lift me,” Eleri demands once she plants herself before Azriel, extending her arms to give Tamlin room.

He tucks his hands beneath her armpits and raises her to eye-level to Azriel. What he witnesses is the single most hilarious berating he has ever heard in his life. Tamlin bites his lip to stifle his laughter. Apparently, she’s upset that Cassian caught wind of their date, and he keeps making kissy faces at her. Now, Rhysand is doing it too! She wasn’t the one who told them! What kind of spymaster can’t keep secrets?

Tamlin clears his throat.

“Um, we saw you both in the pastry shop. We were all having ice cream.”

The young Lady’s face burns a bright red. “I—! Mother above, Az, I’m so sorry!”

Tamlin’s laughter is a rumble as he hands the very short, very embarassed High Faerie to Azriel. “You’re very cute together. By the way, why did you need me for… this?” His voice trembles with amusement and guarded laughter. He doens’t want her to feel bad.

“The others are nosy, I trust you,” she says over her shoulder, feet dangling while Azriel holds her like a live bomb. To her crush, she yowls. “Hug me already!”

Oh, this family is ridiculous, but he loves them dearly. Most of all, Tamlin loves being a part of it.

MOTHER

“Mmmver, yr sqshng me.”

Tamlin wouldn’t trade it for the world. His face is smothered in her arms, a nice change of pace from her squishing his cheeks and crying at him.

“My baby! My little baby is getting married,” she says for the hundredth time.

He had made a point to tell her before the rest of his family. Before his father, he cannot be happy, and she cannot be free, so he tells her in the middle of her garden and her flowers that will live forever. This moment will live forever with them.

He had made a point to tell her months ago, but her mind never recovered from the loss of her second son. It’s alright, he thinks, if she can relive this happiness over and over again. He’s proud that he can be the one to make her smile like that again.

“I grew him a valley of eternal flowers, too, as my proposal.”

“Oh! You did! That’s so lovely, my sprout.”

This time he hugs her, nuzzling her hair and breathing in the scent of her yellow roses.

LUCIEN

Music is a language spoken through the heart, and the body. It speaks only of truths—harsh ones, sweet ones and the ones that they try to keep secret.

Music from Andras is a massacre. His voice has not improved over the years, sounding more and more like an offended cat every day. Tamlin tries to strum louder, or provide a healing rhythm for their ears while Lucien stokes the fire. Its crackling soothes, a baseline for whenever the singing comes to a lull.

“Why don’t you ever sing, Luce? Do you play an instrument?”

“Has anyone lived to tell the tale of a siren’s song?”

Andras looks unimpressed. “You’re telling me your singing is that good?”

Tamlin snorts. “Idiot.”

The clearing by the forest holds memories of pain and desperation, of many attempts to lure Tamlin out of his anger. Together, they have reclaimed this space. Here is a place where happiness lives.

ANDRAS

“It’s happening!”

The door to Tamlin’s map room slams against the wall as its virtually punched open. Lucien startles beside him, far too deep in his strategizing, not having hear the silver storm barreling down the hallway.

“Already? Time flies,” Tamlin hums getting to his feet. Today, he promised he will be picture perfect calm.

“Wait, what’s happening?” Lucien blinks, giving his tired brain a moment to shift gears. He jumps up with a gasp. “It’s happening.” He turns to Tamlin, grabbing him by the shirt to shake him. “It’s happening!”

“Yes, remember the plan? Cool, calm and collected?”

Lucien clears his throat. “Yes, yes, very calm. Bastion of support for the new parents.”

Despite this, the three of them winnow to Andras’ home and within seconds they are by Ailsa’s side. They crowd the healer who jabs at them with her carved wooden cane.

“Really, An? You couldn’t go a day without tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumb.” Ailsa teases and tosses her head back against the headboard, her brow lined with sweat and hair sticking to her forehead.

“Watch it, I can still claim your child as this year’s Tithe,” Tamlin teases. The glare she shoots at him can tear down mountains, and he recieves another jab for stressing out a mother in labor. “Sorry, sorry!”

“What happened to cool, calm and collected?” Lucien hisses.

“It was too easy.”

On one side, Andras holds his wife’s hand and caresses her head, soothing her however he can. Lucien takes her other hand, bearing through the crushing squeeze. Ailsa is more than Andras’ wife; she’s a member of their little group, except her tolerance for their nonsense is much lower than her husband’s. Andras’ also worries that the more she sees the side of him when he’s with his friends, the more she’ll reconsider her choice in partners.

Tamlin helps the healer, acting not as the High Lord, but as the only student of the greatest healer the Spring Court has ever seen. “Do you still have the potentillas petals I gave you?”

“Yes, my lord. I have kept them safe for when you need them.”

The flowers are rare, and he’s unsurprised to hear that the healer has not used them yet. “Now would be a good time.” He says calmly, and takes them to brew Ailsa a cup to soothe her pain.

The birth of a child is not easy, and Tamlin remains at Ailsa’s beck and call. It takes hours, and none of them sleep.

When the cries of a baby rings out through the burrow, relief washes over all of them. They each get a turn holding her, after the parents, of course, and when Tamlin finally gets his hands on that bundle of joy, he cannot help the tears that escape him.

“It’s a baby, a baby,” he says to none—he says to everyone. “I love her.”

“You realize you have to give her back at some point, right?” Ailsa reminds him.

“Oh, Cauldron, he’s never going to leave, is he?” Andras sighs, but the smile on his face never fades.

RHYSAND

There is no word for Rhysand.

He is just Rhysand.

No memory,

No gesture,

No titles,

No one thing that can qualify the what he means to Tamlin.

The things that he has done for a boy in need, for an enemy in the wrong place, defy anything as simple as happiness, as vague as perfection.

He is the home that Tamlin returns to, the understanding that he needs.

He is the gentle touch that soothes a vicious, wounded animal—a quiet that brings peace to a storming mind.

He is the bar against which everything is measured.

Would the Mother sacrifice her soul for him? Would she abandon her morals in the name of protecting him? Would the Cauldron grant his every wish? Would it defy its own laws if only to comfort him?

No, they would do none of those things.

There is no word for Rhysand.

He is just Rhysand.

#tamlin big himbo confirmed #cassian himbo amplifier #tamlin #tamlin week #pro tamlin #cassian #rhysand #azriel #rhysand's sister #lucien #andras #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #my fics #tamsand #tamlin x rhysand #rhysand x tamlin

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mapetitetetefolle · 1 year

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I finally finished the ACOTAR books from Sarah J. Maas, so this is my character rank with no explanation:

(NOTE: please but PLEASE! don't feel offended it's just my opinion about characters that don't exist, it's not personal)

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tellmelater · 2 years

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elain of the spring court

#listen #my bestie showed me a tiktok that changed our lives #elain archeron #sarah j maas #acotar #acosf #sjm art #elain x lucien #elucien #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #the archeron sisters #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of silver flames #tamlin #lucien vanserra #the spring court

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acotarimaginings · 2 months

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hear yeee hear yeeee

Elriel Elucien

Feysand

Character x Reader

Azris

Nessian

Vassien... So on and so on! I've seen these blogs in other fandoms but never ours so I've taken it upon myself to make one! A new Acotar Imagines blog has a arrived! I will write your ships! I will write your self indulgent pieces! How you ask? Send me an ask with a writing prompt and away we go!!

Im sure I missed people but please share to get the word out and get this blog going!

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darklove9314-blog · 1 year

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All Fanfic Projects and An Announcement for Some of My New Ones

So as most of my followers know I love writing fanfiction and I’ve been obsessed with writing primarily ACOTAR fanfiction. Well I thought it would be fun today to announce all my projects and my future ones that are now in the works as well. Spoilers for SJM Books.

Current WIP That are Now Published on A03:

-Symphonia (Nessian family fic/ACOTAR Next Gen Fic)

-The Song in the Shodaws (Gwynriel fic)

-Fire on Fire (Nessian Forbidden Romance Fic. This will be where I will post updates for my Nessian Forbidden romace story I started on Tumblr)

-She is the Sunlight (Jesminda and Lucien’s love Story)

-Hearts Set Aflame (A Nessian fanfic where Nesta and Cassian are sent to the Illyrian mountains to keep Nesta safe from the queen. This is also a ACOSF Rewrite of sorts.)

-Toxic Queen (A Nessian AU fic where Cassian hates the Archerons for what they did to his family and sets his sights on seducing Nesta to get back at them, but ends up falling for her instead.)

-How Can You Mend A Broken Heart? (A Feyre, Nesta, and Elain centered fanfiction set at the end of ACOWAR where Rhys dies instead of being brought back to life by the High Lords, and the sisters try to find their own ways of coping with all they have lost.)

-As Bright As The Dawn (A Collection of ACOTAR/SJ,M prompts that I mostly post on Tumblr.

-In A Sky of A Thousand Stars (This is what I think will happen in House of Flame and Shadow/ My ACOTAR/CC Crossover)

-Shadow and Flames (This fic is basically a Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel Fic where they partake in Nesta’s fantasy.)

-The Everlasting Spring (An Elucien Fanfic where Elain and Lucien have to work together to not only save the Spring Court, but find out that there is a bigger threat that they hadn’t expected coming.)

Future Fanfics That I’ve Started Working on That The First Chapter will be Released soon.

-Burn for You (A Nessian Fanfic that centers their time together during ACOMAF-Pre ACOSF.)

-Fire and Ice (A Eris centered Fanfic where Eris goes to the Winter Court to try and make allies amongst some of the Winter Court Citizens and finds something unexpected there.)

-The Truth in the Silence (A Fanfic centered around Mor and Emerei’s relationship as well as an emotional healing journey for Mor.)

-Days in the Sun (Helion and The Lady of the Autumn Court’s love story)

A Flame in The Night (An ACOTAR/TOG crossover Fic where Nyx fand Rowaelin;s daughter in order to bring peace amongst their parents two courts are placed in ana arranged marriage)

A Tale of Two Courts (A Rhys/Tamlin centered fic that tells the events of the night that broke them apart and made them despise each other.)

Future fics that are planned, but have no set release yet.

-Wanting was Enough (This Fic is going to be set after the events of Symphonia and will mostly center around Melody as she tries to navigate through the events at the end of Symphonia.)

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b00kdiary · 8 months

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Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.

Cauldron Blessed | Azriel

Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'

Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.

Wrong.

He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.

Me, his mate- wrong.

It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.

I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.

Azriel, my mate.

Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.

And that's when I heard it.

"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."

I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.

They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.

"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."

I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.

"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."

"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."

"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."

She deserves better.

It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.

Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.

"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."

"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"

"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.

Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.

"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."

There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.

I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.

As if they had become a part of me.

It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.

Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.

And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.

I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.

I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.

Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.

My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.

I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.

And I hated myself for it.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.

And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.

He was here.

"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"

He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.

"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."

Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.

Another thing I couldn't bear to face.

"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."

As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.

His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.

"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.

"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."

My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.

I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.

"What does that mean?!"

I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.

"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.

A rejection- something he feared the most.

"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"

He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.

"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"

"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."

"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"

"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"

"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"

His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.

"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."

His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.

And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.

"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."

"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"

I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.

The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.

"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."

"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"

"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."

He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.

"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."

He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.

"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."

"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.

"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."

"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."

Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.

Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.

"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.

"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.

His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.

"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.

He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.

"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.

"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."

He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.

"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"

"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.

"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.

"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.

"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.

"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.

He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.

The Cauldron was right, so right.

----------------------------

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loveareum @infintyfandoms @sarawritestories @eerievixen

Comment to be added to the tag-list >3

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel smut #cassian acotar #rhysand #acotar smut #smut #plus size reader #azriel x plus size reader #acotar fanfiction #sarah j maas #sjmaas #plus size smut #plus size y/n

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roseodelle · 3 months

Text

First Impressions - Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Summary: Your first excursion away from the Autumn Court to sit in on the High Lord’s meeting doesn’t go without a hitch.

Word Count: 2782

Warnings: Angry Azriel, Eris’s dumb mouth, Violence

Masterlist

“Keep your head high. Keep your mouth shut.” Eris straightens the collar of your coat, choking down his apprehension. Mother hen. “Don’t make eye contact and do not engage. Only speak if you’re spoken to and whatever you do, do not antagonize the Night Court.” You roll your eyes, removing his hand from your collar to hold it gently in your own. You soothe him, meeting his worried eyes with your own.

“You worry too much, brother.”

“I do not worry nearly enough, sister.” He pulls his hand away from yours, instead placing it on your back to urge you forward toward the throne room. You’ll be leaving home today. For the first time ever. Sure, you’ve seen all there is to see in the Autumn Court, from the ports to the forests to the cities to the hovels. But you’d never visited another court, and you were overjoyed at the prospect. When your father told you that you’d be accompanying your family to the Dawn Court, it took all of your self-control to keep your excitement unknown.

“Who all will be there?” You quietly ask, ensuring your conversation remains unheard by your father's shadows. Eris first replies with a quick shake of his head, tightening his grip on your back to urge you faster.

“The High Lords and their immediate subjects. I’m not sure if Tamlin will be present. If he is, it’ll be a shitshow. Do not speak to him-” you cut him off.

“Do not speak to anyone; do not make eye contact with anyone; stay with mother. Yes, father.” He gently smacks the back of your head. You choke back a laugh, swinging out of his grip to smack his shoulder.

“Don’t call me that.” He says, a boyish grin brightening his cheeks. Your own smile hurts your cheeks as you grab his hand in yours once more.

“Then fuss less. I’ll be good. I promise.” He gives your hand a tight squeeze before he releases you, taking steps to distance himself from you as the great entrance of the throne room comes into view. Before you can continue, you pause in step. Your mouth opens and closes, question like a stone on your tongue. Eris notices, of course, and halts his own movements.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, and you give him a sad smile.

“Will Lucien be there?” You’d been so young when he’d fled. That night was the cause of a hundred years of nightmares. Nights that had been spent with Eris, silly stories and games keeping your mind from the horrors you’d witnessed as a child. You’d not seen Lucien since, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. Eris frowns, his shoulders drooping for a fraction of a second before he continues his pace toward the rest of your family.

“I’m not sure.” He whispers, and you remain silent for the rest of the short journey. Seconds before you step foot in the grand room, your perfected dissimulation slides into place. You’d been forced to charade since you were a babe, and you had the best teachers. You poke at your shield, ensuring it's in place, as you meet your mother's somber eye.

Slipping next to her in effortless fashion, you watch as Eris takes his place next to your father. Your remaining brothers, Bastian and Alarik, stand at attention on either side of the High Lord and General, all mere steps ahead of you and your mother. Your father speaks, his voice harsh and slicing with finality, as he turns to meet your eye.

“Do not disappoint me, Y/n, or you will remain in this palace for another two hundred and fifty years.” And with that warning, you meet Eris’s eye once more as you slip out of Autumn and into Dawn.

The Dawn Court could only be described as magnificent. Your mother holds your hand in a gentle grip as you arrive with the rest of your family on an angelic veranda. Your gaze rises first to cotton clouds teasing a periwinkle sky, wisps of pink and orange tinging their billowing edges. You stare into the sky for seconds, content to gaze forever, before the tightening grip of your mother's hand in yours draws your attention to the marble floor beneath you. Veins of deep black and pearlescent white mark the stone and lead into the grand palace and home of Thesan, the High Lord of Dawn. Pillars line the entrance and as your sight rises upon the sunstone facade, lavish balconies and stunning archways call your attention. It’s the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. And you've only been here for seconds. A great palace set upon a mountains peak. The stories you’d read and heard paled in comparison to the real thing.

Your mother squeezes your hand once more, her thumb smoothing your skin with a gentle touch as she motions you forward. You follow as your family is led further into the palace by an attendant. Your mother's hand in yours is a gentle but firm reminder that this is not a visit for pleasure. You find Eris’s back, his posture rigid. If you could see his face, you knew you’d be met with the emotionless eyes and a facetious smirk he’d perfected over centuries of harshness. As you pass underneath another gilded archway, you feel your own facade slipping into place. He’d spent years teaching you how. You’d be damned if you let him down now.

You can feel it the closer you get to the war room, the stronger the aura of pure power becomes. You feel it in your bones—a dangerous mix of pure disasterous magic that could only mean many powerful beings waited ahead. High Lords, you imagine all of them. Old and strong, it brings chills to your spine, and you throw needles against your own shield, ensuring it’s strength—a pity in comparison to the influence of those ahead. You feel a tinge of relief when you feel your father’s own shield expand to cover you and your mother. The smoky scent and warm touch of your High Lord’s magic offer the barest sense of relief.

Your father and Eris enter first, and as your remaining brothers follow behind, you catch a glimpse of evil grins on their faces. The tips of their too-white teeth are a nasty warning to those ahead.

“Enough.” You hear Eris command, and you know he speaks to keep Basitian and Alarik in check. Finally, you and your mother take a few final steps into the meeting chamber. You keep your head down as you’d promised him you would, your fingers tightening against her hand still in yours. Following her lead, you slide into a luxurious oak chair. Your gaze seeks Eris first, sitting just two seats away from you on the other side of your father, and your shoulders relax immediately as his empty eyes meet your own. He gives you a subtle nod, and you exhale softly, allowing your eyes to wander the rest of the room. It’s Lucien you now seek. When you fail to find his once-familiar deep red hair, you find your heart sinking into your chest.

Instead, your gaze lands on dark swirling shadows, cognizant and conscious, surely whispering of every breath, every fidgeting movement of the inhabitants of the chamber, and every available secret to the master they surround in a dangerous cacoon. He’s beautiful, you think. Intelligent hazel eyes observe every person and shadow in the room, and dark hair rests in a perfect manner against his sharpened brow and tan cheekbones. Your eyes lower to his arms, large with chiseled muscle and marked by the swirling black ink of bargain tattoos and the lively shadows that surround him. You find his hands and feel tightness in your chest at the sight. Melted skin stretches against the veiny muscles and long fingers.

Burn scars, you know. You have your own, and you know how difficult it is to permanently scar a fae. You catch sight of his siphons, two deep blue ovals attached to the backs of his hands, held in place by dark gauntlets. Encased is pure power. But it’s his wings that halt the beating in your chest. Colossal, powerful, and simply incredible, the dark, scarred leather takes your breath away. Azriel, you think. Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court. You’d heard many stories about the lethal Illyrian male now in front of you, sitting just a few feet away from you. He sits across the table from Eris, and the deadly glare on his angled face brings a chill to your spine.

“It’s no surprise that you’re tardy, given that your own sons were too slow to catch my mate. I suppose it runs in the family.” The High Lord of Night breaks the strained silence of the room, and you fight back the shiver at the pure power emanating from him. You subtly test the shield that surrounds your family, ensuring it still stands against his thrumming, dark power. Rhysand. He, too, is beautiful. Violet eyes sit underneath perfect dark brows, above cutting cheekbones. He meets your father’s ever-violent gaze, resting upon the Night Court’s concubine. Feyre. Unsurprisingly, she’s ethereally beautiful, with bright blue eyes and long golden hair.

“Mate- and High Lady.” Beron finishes, lips in a tight curl as he examines the female ahead. Her power, too, is deeply emanative. The couple is deadly. They know it. You seek Eris once more, wishing to be near him. Wishing that it were his hand in yours instead of your mother's. Instead of meeting your gaze, he bares an amused smile across the table. Your eyes glance over the Morrigan, as beautiful as the stories painted her to be. Her history with Eris was disorganized, and you did not know every detail of what had come to pass. You had yet to be born when their forced betrothal ended violently, but he’d told you enough. He stares intently at the female sitting to the side of Feyre, with icy fire in her eyes and pale blonde hair. You do not recognize her, but her sharp gaze is deadly as she stares daggers back at your brother. Her anger is palpable, and you can surmise that this must be Nesta.

When that certain glint shines in his amber eye, you find yourself tensing. You know that mischievous expression, and you know what often follows. This is not Eris, your best friend—your only friend. This is Eris, the asshole of the Autumn Court. Shit. You gently release your mother’s hand, ignoring the warning glance she gives you, preparing to act if he manages to create enough of a fit to require your assistance, regardless of your promise to behave.

“Pity you didn’t bring the other sister. I hear our little brother’s mate is quite the beauty.” At the mention of Lucien, your mother releases a quiet gasp. Eris had shared so little with you when it came to him. But he’d told you of Elain, and you knew he was toeing a dangerous line. It’s Morrigan who replies, with a smooth, frigidness in her melodic voice.

“You still certainly like to hear yourself talk, Eris. Good to know some things don’t change over the centuries.” A wicked smile appears on his lips, and that glint in his eye is on fire. Fuck, you think. Fuck. Fuck. You found yourself wishing for the coveted ability of the daemati at this moment. To be able to claw your way into his mind and tell him to shut the fuck up before he could begin. But no. Instead, you watch with bated breath as he opens his damned mouth and chuckles to himself before he speaks.

“Good to know that after five hundred years, you still dress like a slut.” You release an exasperated groan, and in the same second, the shield around you shudders and breaks with a pulse of deep blue light and powerful magic. The wood of Eris’s chair is shattered into pieces, and your brother is tackled to the ground. Azriel’s scarred hands are a tight vise around your brother’s throat. Within the same second, another shield is erected. Azriel’s own, deep blue and as strong as the one he’d torn down with no effort at all. You hear a muttered “shit” and “enough” from the other side of the table, and within the same breath, you’re standing with your sharpened emerald and obsidian dagger in hand. You make quick work of the resilient shield Azriel had erected, made of radiant blue magic. You catch sight of his siphons once more; only now can you see that the two on his hands are not alone. He wears five more. Eris, you fucking idiot.

You’re fast. You’re strong. And you know that you’d stand no chance against the giant Illyrian at any other time, but somehow, you manage to get the upper hand. You grasp his sturdy shoulder, rounding your dagger sharply to his neck. You dig in with enough pressure to catch his attention, drawing an immediate and steady stream of blood. You feel him still, muscled body impossibly still in your tight hold. You catch Eris’s eye over the Illyrian’s shoulder, and it’s almost comical—the mischievous and proud look of an asshole turning to a quick and sharp panic as he sees the position his baby sister put herself in to protect him.

“Release him.” You command, but Azriel’s grip on your brother’s neck remains unbroken. You watch as his eyes begin to redden, vessels widening in a concerning manner. You look across the room, meeting the High Lord of Night’s wide eyes with determination in your own. You crack your own shield, the barrier that keeps your mind safe from the prying eye’s of daemati. The shield Eris had taught you to wield the moment you began to walk.

Recall your dog, or all three of us will die right here, right now. You speak loudly, ensuring your words make their mark. You dig your blade in deeper for good measure, milimeters away from his carotid, steady stream of blood thickening as it runs down his neck and drips onto your brother’s face.

“Enough, Azriel.” Rhysand’s command is deep and unyielding and yet Azriel does not yield, instead digging his heavy knee into Eris’s stomach. You release your hand from his shoulder, instead opting to dig into his dark hair and pull tightly. Any deeper on his neck, and you knew all three of you would be dead. It’s your father who speaks next, apparently realizing the sensitivity of the situation at hand.

“Call off your overgrown bat!” He growls, but Rhysand does not utter another command. Your heart beats roughly in your chest, and you allow your sharp fingernails to dig into said overgrown bat’s scalp. It has no effect. Your eyes bore into Eris’s over the bat’s shoulder, wide and panicked in a mirror of your own.

“Come, Azriel.” It’s Feyre, now standing ahead of Rhysand with a hand outstretched toward the Ilyrian. You sigh in relief as he releases his deadly grip on Eris’s throat. He chokes heavily, inhaling deeply and shakily. You slowly pull your nails from Azriel’s scalp, releasing the tangle of hair from your shaking hand, before tentatively removing your dagger from his bleeding neck. He stands confidently, towering over you in height and with his giant wings.

“Come sit with me.” Feyre commands him, and you shudder in relief as he drops the impressive blue shield. He glances at you, dropping his eyes down and then ever so slowly back up, head tilted in menace, and you shiver under his heavy gaze. Finally, he takes steady strides away from you, and you reach to pull Eris from the ground. His slender and toned body falls heavily against your side as you slowly walk him back toward your family. You pass the shattered chair he once sat in, leading him toward your own seat.

“What have you done?” He near silently whispers, his voice terribly hoarse as he leans in close, ensuring that you’re not overheard.

“Our deal was off the moment you antagonized the Night Court.” You whisper back, and he tightens his grip on your shoulder.

“Beron will punish you for this.” You drop him into your chair, your mother taking his hand in hers underneath the table.

“No punishment could be worse than watching you die.” He reaches to squeeze your hand, releasing you as you step back, standing obediently a step behind him. You can feel your father’s gaze on you; his ire is already a burning hand upon your back.

8/13 update: this will remain as a one shot. I wrote and posted a pt 2 but I wasn't happy with it so as of now, I've taken it down. I'm sorry :(

#azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x vanserra reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar series #eris masterlist #azriel masterlist #azriel fanfiction #azriel fic #azriel fic rec #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #masterlist #my writing

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acourtofinkandpapyrus · 11 months

Text

A Flower with Petals of Flame: Part Sixteen (Eris x Reader)

Warnings: Blood. LOTS OF BLOOD, murder, Amarantha

Part Fifteen Part seventeen

Tag list: @esposadomd

Don't worry, I won't kill Eris. Heheheh

“Hello Y/N. You know, I was quite surprised when my soldiers told me that there was a purple eyed illyrian female staying with them, but here you are.”

I ground my teeth. I had never met her in the flesh, but I would be a bad leader if I couldn’t recognise the female that kept most of Prythian locked under a mountain for years.

“Amarantha, how good to finally meet you.” I croon, sliding a dagger into my hand discreetly. “You know, I was wondering where you went after you died, maybe you’d like to clear that up for me?”

Eris’s face was a mask of stone as he stood straight, acting as if he didn’t have a knife at his throat.

“Y/N, whatever she wants, don’t give it to her.” Eris said, his voice stoney even as the bond tugged at my heart frantically.

He was afraid.

He was afraid I would get hurt.

Stupid male, doesn’t he realize I could obliterate this female in an instant? The only problem was that he would probably die no matter how I went about it.

Amarantha let out a low chuckle. “That’s a nice idea, but from what I’ve seen, she’s not going anywhere without you.” She crooned into Eris’s ear, and I saw drops of blood forming where the knife was pressing into his skin.

“If you hurt him, I will obliterate you.” I snarl, my magic bubbling in response to my rage.

Amarantha studies me for a moment. “You know, I was like you not that long ago. Hopelessly in love with a male. Then I realized something.”

My heart threatened to beat out of my chest as she tilted the knife a tiny bit, making Eris wince as more blood droplets started to form.

“All males are the same. This world is beyond help.” She grins at me. “But we both know that there are so many more. That there is basically limitless potential, limitless potential for anyone who wants it.”

Her tone is a bit manic, and Eris has a bit of a look of confusion on his face.

But I had heard this spiel before. I had heard myself spouting something similar after the Asteri found me.

The only difference is that I cared about the cost, found out about the downsides of dimensional travel and blanched.

Because there will always be people out there that will use that opportunity to destroy and conquer.

And I was quickly seeing that Amarantha was just that.

“Did the Asteri tell you about the whole eating souls thing? You know, once they’re done with you, they’re just going to kill you and take it all.” I say, hoping I can stall until Lucian, or Tamlin, or anyone found us here and killed this bitch.

She just smiled at me, as if I was a clueless child. “You act all tough, as if you aren’t still just the little girl that was killed, and she was still only the next best thing.”

My teeth grind. “How about you let him go and I show you exactly what the next best thing can do?” I ask, grinning at her.

She cackled. “Oh no. Very simply, what I want is you to know that I’m going to tear down your brother, and everyone he cares about, until only you and him are left, and I’m going to watch you two tear eachother apart.”

She shoves him away, winnowing away as I rush to catch him.

He grabs on to me, holding me close to him. “You should have run away.” he whispers into my hair, cradling me close to him.

I don’t let go, but I do say, “Like hell. You know you wouldn’t have run away if the positions were reversed.”

He holds me tighter. “No, but you weren't there under the mountain. She is a monster.”

I had heard enough to know that those fifty years had been a living hell for all of Prythian, so I don’t argue the point anymore.

“We need to go check and see who’s alive.” I say after a while, both of us sitting in the grass, Eris’s neck already perfectly healed.

He looked reluctant. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” He asked, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

The mating bond pulled tight between us, waiting for one of us to speak of its presence.

Now wasn’t the time.

“Good idea or no, it’s the right thing to do.” Say, pulling away gently and standing up, looking out on the field of corpses, the grass of the spring court running red with blood.

He joins me, but I can see the worry creasing his brow. Nonetheless, he follows me as I walk into the bloody scene.

They were all gone. There was not a sign of life.

Eris and my gazes locked. Had Lucian been here?

I ran the rest of the way to the manor, running through the already open doors into the horror show that was the inside of the Manor.

I had spent a couple months here with Tamlin and Lucian, helping them bring people back, helping bring this whole place back.

Amarantha had left a bloody trail to the throne rooms, and I paused in the hallway, not wanting to enter the doorway.

Eris came up beside me, taking my hand in his. “You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I can look for both of us.”

Despite the gore and horror around us, my heart warmed slightly. He knew how I felt, and was willing to face whatever was in there for me.

I shake my head slightly. “Together?”

He nodded.

“Together.”

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