#Tamlin x Rhysand’s sister

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)

Masterlist

Azriel x Reader, Past Tamlin x Reader - Smut - Angst

Vamp!Reader x Turned!Az

The darkness within her became his obsession. She was his. Didn’t she know? When Azriel spies his mate with another male, when he kills that male, what he knows as life shifts eternally. No longer is there life. No longer is there death. There is only Felina.

When Felina’s true origins come to light, along with an old flame carrying the answers she so desperately seeks, the Inner Circle must face truths they weren’t prepared for and Felina must decide between a cauldron-blessed bond or a love that was taken away too soon.

Part 1 - El Paso

Part 2 - Peter

Part 3 - Vampire

Part 4/Prequel - Neon Moon (can be read before part one but this is the preferred reading order)

Part 5 - I Remember Everything

Part 6 - COMING SOON

warnings: Maasverse spoilers, sexual content, dub-con and non-con, suicidal thoughts, violence. It’s actually going to end up being a sweet story but the FMC has a lot of trauma in her past that will be addressed.

[ennawrite]

My favorite cheesy scenes from my Tamlin x Rhysand’s sister fic (it’s a small, one chapter fic from Tamlin’s POV of the days leading up to Tamlin & Rhys becoming High Lords) 💖💫

[readychilledwine]

Drumming Song

Summary - 49 long years without your mate finally comes to an end after Amarantha grants him one night of freedom

Warnings- smut, rough oral (mrecving), shadow play, slight angst, impact play, power play, mention of sex magic, occational capitalized word where there shouldn't be (I think I caught them all)

A/N - Listen... there's potential for this to have a second part under the mountain where reader is Rhysand's whore

“Behave,” Tamlin gripped your chin gently. “Pick wisely and preferably from the guard, y/n.”

Lucien snorted behind you, having been the male you had picked the last four Calanmai. You two figured the magic would lead you to him again. A strong, high born male and heir was the obvious choice for the night.

Tamlin looked at Lucien, “Stay near her.” The red-headed male nodded. Gently reaching for your hand to accompany you to the Fires as Tamlin began the Rite.

“What are the odds dearest daring Feyre stays in her room?” You linked your arm to Lucien, leaning into him and staring up at his beautiful face hidden by that fox mask.

“For her sake, she better,” he sighed heavily. “I'd really prefer not to watch your brother and my closest friend fuck my mate.” The stark reminder had your toes curling, thinking of your own mate trapped under that damned Mountain. “Oh you have got to be kidding me,” Lucien looked to the sky, whispering a soft prayer to the Cauldron. “I'll be back.” He motioned with his head towards where Feyre stood with a male.

You shook your head, laughing as Lucien went to her, and the male walked away as he approached. You continued your pathway to the forest, enjoying the feeling of grass on your bare feet.

An almost feline like presence had you pausing as a familiar feeling began to set into your stomach. Calloused hands ran up your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they then moved your hair to the side, “Hello, y/n Darling,” the purr had shivers running your spine as a combination of shocked chill and the heat of the magic began to truly set in.

His scent hit you then causing that faint drumming sound to increase rapidly. Citrus and sea salt mixed with what you knew was the lingering scent of Amarantha.

“What are you doing here, Rhysand?”

You felt him smile into your neck, “Rhysand? Darling, I thought we were way past that?”

It took every fiber in your being, every single ounce of strength you had, but you managed to pull away from him, walking away as you shook him off despite the rhythmic pounding indicating you had Found your partner for the night.

With every footstep away, he took two near, and the drumming grew louder. “If you need to know, I was allowed off my leash tonight to check in.”

You scoffed slightly, picking up pace to head toward your greenhouse, your safe haven. “You mean to drag whomever the poor female Tamlin picks for the night to the false queen to be tortured and murdered?” It was no secret that once every 5 years Amarantha had sent one of the crueler high lord or an Autor to Spring for the poor maiden picked from Calanmai.

Rhys was smirking behind you, knowing you were engaging in a game of chase with him, smiling to himself and knowing he would win. “I do have that unfortunate privilege, yes.” He paused, allowing you to get several paces ahead of him.

Thick silence fell between you two. The air was heavy with magic, with arousal, with the sound of moans and cries while fire cracked distantly in the background.

You had to get away from him before you gave in, caving to every sick whim and desire he had. You took one deep breath, memorizing His scent one more time, and then ran.

Rhys laughed distantly in the background, giving chase to you and easily following every calculated twist and turn.

He caught you exactly where he knew he would, shutting the door to the completely glass greenhouse behind him and locking it.

You felt him grab your wrist, spinning you and walking you to one of the empty walls. His forehead found yours. Those star flecked eyes almost blown out with lust but still somehow sparkling.

The cold glass of the greenhouse met your back as Rhysand held your wrists above your head. "Why are you running from me, little spider lily? As much as I enjoy a game of cat and mouse, we both know my time here is limited."

The heat from Calanmai's magic had begun to spread over your skin, causing the need to be breed, to find some relief to surface. "Tamlin will kill you if he finds you here."

Rhys smirked, his face getting closer to yours, "Your brother was a little preoccupied with a pretty little dark-haired thing in the cave," Soft lips trailed your neck. "And now there's no one else here to save you from me."

He had leaned in so close each syllable was a soft brush of his lips on yours. “Amarantha-” you started softly.

“Will think I fucked you to irritate Tamlin. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Your eyes fluttered shut, relaxing as cool tendrils of darkness began to explore the high slits of your skirt.

Rhys began placing soft kisses along your jawline, hands moving down from your wrists to memorize each inch of skin. One hand stopped on your neck, holding there and squeezing gently. “You should be allowed to wear clothing like this more often. Makes you look like an actual female. Not some cupcake Tamlin had hand decorated.”

You blinked at the lack of clothing you were in. A dress that dipped low in the front with a non-existent back, two large slits that ran both legs up to your hipbones. The fabric was so light that a soft breeze would expose you easily.

“I enjoy my cupcake skirts sometimes. Easy to hide things in,” your mind immediately went to before the Bond between you two snapping, when Lucien had first come to Spring and used sex As a coping mechanism. He and Tamlin had an argument, and he had hidden the table and then under your many layered skirts and ate you out with Tamlin sitting right there.

Rhysand's eyes grew dark, his hand squeezing your throat harder. “You will never think of another male between those pretty thighs once I'm done with you.”

Rhysand brought your lips to him harshly this time. The kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, leaving you breathless as he began ripping that now offensive dress off.

Without warning, Rhysand turned you, locking your hands behind your back with one hand and forcing your breasts and cheek against the cold glass.

You jumped, gasping loudly as a smack came against your ass. Then another and another leaving you wiggling and moaning. Rhys landed another hard smack, massaging the tender sore skin once he was done and just watched you drip.

You were soaked, and he only made it worse as he ripped your hair back, forcing your back to arch more. “Try to remember I love you, and this, instead of whatever happens when you are dragged under than damn mountain,” it was a soft plea followed by a kiss placed on your temple.

“Always,” you whispered.

“Get on your knees for me,” you could hear him untying his pants, the desperation in his tone. You turned, following his order and trailing your hands down his thighs.

Rhys was quick to collect your wrists, slamming them on the wall behind you and above your head. The position left you completely defenseless as his free hand positioned his cock in front of your lips. “Open.” An easy order to follow again, your eyes meeting his as he pushed in. You hummed at the weight of him on your tongue, the saltiness of his skin. You tried to bob your head, only to be forced to stay in place.

Rhysand just smirked before pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

And now it was clear. He had no intentions of allowing you an ounce of control.

This was his therapy.

His needed release from the horrors he was suffering silently to earn her favor. To keep his court safe. To keep you safe.

Rhys was gentle at first, allowing you to keep up and breathe, tongue running the length of the vein and swirling the head when the opportunity came. That gentleness went out the window once Rhys saw an attor lurking the grounds, and he growled. “I love you,” he whispered one last time. You nodded, swallowing around him, and did the best you could to relax.

He began fucking your throat like you were no more than a doll to him, a lifeless object He could use and abuse. He smiled and moaned with each gag, cock feeling heavier on your tongue and twitching as more spit began to gather at the corners of your mouth. Mascara had begun to run down your face with your tears from the burn and lack of oxygen. "What a pretty mess," he moaned out.

Rhys threw his head back, groaning your name like a prayer as he continued using and abusing you.

You felt something cold running around your thighs and then something running the length of your core. You knew if you stood, there would be a damp spot on the floor. You were twitching and clenching around nothing, eyes locked on the absolute bliss etched into Rhysand's face each time you hallowed your cheeks or swallowed.

You moaned around him as one of those tendrils gently began to play with your clit, offering some relief as he held you with his cock all the way inside of your throat.

“Keep fucking looking at me,” his hand moved from your hair to your throat. Feeling his cock settled in there, feeling you swallowing and attempting to breath around him. “My perfect good girl,” he was breathless himself, pulling back out before going back to his ruthless onslaught of thrusts mixed with prolonged deep throating.

Between his pleasure steady humming down the bond, the snake like darkness dancing around your entrance and clit, and the visual display of Rhysand with his brows knit in pleasure and mouth opened softly, you felt that coil tightening inside of you more and more. “Almost fucking there, y/n,” he panted, your name rolling off his tongue like a deep purr. “Fuck!”

He came from you, whining as that coil began to teeter on a knife edge. Rhys spilled down your throat, “Don't fucking swallow yet. Don't you fucking dare.” He pulled out slightly, working his length with just the tip in your mouth to ensure every drop of him sat waiting.

He pulled out, breathing heavily, “Open your mouth.” Your obedience had his cock twitching, his mind wishing he had time to truly take you, to taste you. He smiled at the sight of his seed lingering in your mouth before leaning down and spitting on your tongue. He forced your jaw shut, kneeling down before you, a hand taking place between your thighs and two fingers entering you.

“Swallow,” he commanded as he began fucking you with his fingers. Scissoring them pressing them, pushing deeper and deeper until he found the spot that had your head thrown back, whining out his name as electricity and warmth shot through your body.

You heard him growl as a thumb found your bundle of nerves, moving in time with his thumb. Your hips began to unknowingly move, riding those two fingers inside of you and chasing your pleasure. “Rhys! Fuck! Please.” You began to beg, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, a mantra one would wake themselves to in the morning.

You couldn't respond, mouth set in a small o, whimpers and moans becoming all you knew as he played your body like his own personal harp. “Cum,” you screamed then, flowers in the greenhouse going from small buds to full blooms as you reached and fell over your peak.

You felt him leaning into your ear. “When I buy you under the mountain, I'm going to fuck you infront of every single fae there. Marking you as mine over and over.” He pulled his fingers out, landing a quick slap to your sensitive pussy before pushing his fingers back in. “You won't even remember your name when I'm done with you down there.”

He worked your core through it, praising you with soft kisses as he kept an eye on Amarantha's creature that had caught his scent. He pulled his fingers from you, holding them to your mouth and watching from his lashes as you eagerly cleaned them.

He released your wrists, pulling his fingers from your mouth, and held eye contact with you. “I have to go,” his voice broke as he said the 4 words you'd been dreading. “I love you. I know I've told you several times tonight, but I love you y/n Darling.”

You nodded, trying to blink the tears away, “I love you too.”

He nodded, kissing you deeply before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. “I'll see you soon.”

It was a statement that filled you both with dread and a sick sense of joy. Dread for being trapped there, one more tool to use for Tamlin's torment. Joy at the idea of being with Rhys.

He sighed, leaving the greenhouse as you noticed the creature approaching and leaving with it after motioned towards the cave you knew Tamlin's maiden would likely be resting in.

You felt one last tug on the bond. One small ounce of sorrow of longing.

Then it fell silent and cold.

Just like it had been for 49 long years.

💜 General taglist 💜 - Remember to shoot me a message or comment if you would like to be on my general taglist or a tag list for a specific character

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows Masterlist

Eris x Azriel'sSister!Reader

read on ao3

Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but after a bargain is made between them, things begin heating up. This takes place before Under the Mountain.

cw: canon typical violence, mentions of child abuse and domestic abuse, beron🤮, mentions of whipping, mentions of reader being groomed in past relationship(though she was an adult), overprotective batboys, mentions of rhys being assaulted utm, just tw for amarantha in general

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd @fxckmiup

Eris Taglist:

Comment to be added to the Scorched Shadows or Eris taglists!

[prythianpages]

A Thousand Feelings | Rhysand's Sister

Azriel x Carina (Rhysand's Sister OC) | Years have passed since Carina’s death, and Starfall hasn’t been the same. Everyone has mourned her absence alone, the once joyful night now marked by grief. But this year is different. Carina’s memory reaches out to them, drawing them together once more and shining bright, even reaching the distant borders of Spring.

warnings: angst, mentions of death, grief, inner circle mourning a loss, Tamlin also grieving and going through it a bit

a/n: Dia de los muertos (day of the dead) is one of my favorite holidays & I've been wanting to write something to share my feelings about it. And of course, I was also inspired by a song, Humbe's Fantasmas.

The streets of Velaris are quiet, the stillness thick and solemn. Businesses and shops have closed early, their fae lights dimmed in anticipation of the yearly migration of spirits. Starfall, a silently beautiful holiday.

But when you’re missing someone, Starfall is deafening. The sky is different, the air is different. Everything is different.

The stars still shine the same, bright as ever against the dark. But every time Azriel looks up, he feels a scream tearing through his heart. A raw, endless cry of longing and grief.

Because the one he loved with all his being, the one he’d gaze up at the stars with has left. And with her, she’s taken all the light that used to fill Velaris, the laughter that used to echo down the halls of Rhysand’s townhouse, the joy that warmed his heart.

Now, every Starfall is a cruel echo of past years when she stood by his side, her hand wrapped in his and eyes wide in awe as she gazed up at the glimmering blue night sky. Now, he stands alone, feeling only the faintest warmth from memories that are fading too quickly. Now, he is forced to watch every day as the world goes on without her.

Azriel thought it was cruel how the city seemed so unchanged. As though nothing had ever happened, as though she’d simply vanished and the world had barely blinked in response. The small crepe stand, where he’d spent countless mornings waiting for her to choose a flavor only for her to always pick the strawberries and cream, still set up each morning, the nice older fae vendor smiling just as brightly as before. 

As he walked further down the cobblestone streets, he came across another favorite place of hers–the craft shop. He had so often found her, her hands stained with paint or glitter. How many times had he pulled her away from there, laughing as she made excuses, promising just a few more minutes. Now, he walked past it, with faltering resolve because he’d never step through those doors again. He no longer had reason to. And despite the heavy ache in his chest, the shop stayed open, as lively as ever.

Then, there was the bookstore. The mural she had spent days painting still glowing in shades of purples, blues and greens. She had painted her favorite view, the Sidra River on Starfall. The mural shone just as brightly as it always had, its colors unfaded by time. It seemed to mock him now.  

Carina was a part of this city, and yet somehow it went on without her, indifferent to the hole she’d left in its fabric. His heart twisted painfully. How could everything feel so normal? 

But what Azriel couldn’t see was the way the crepe vendor now served her favorite flavor every morning with a wistful gleam in his eyes. The craft shop owner left a set of her favorite brushes by the door, never selling them. And the bookstore staff polished the mural every week, making sure the colors stayed as vibrant as the soul who painted them.

Azriel continued down the familiar path he walked through every night he stayed in Velaris, unaware that the city mourned with him. His wings were tucked in tight and shadows hidden amongst them, silent yet attentive to their master’s tensed muscles. It was only when he finally reached the gates of his destination that they had slithered out to open them for him. 

His breath became shaky as the house came into view. It was the house he had bought for Carina. A place of sanctuary they had chosen together after marrying. Now, it is a sanctuary for animals. It’s what she would’ve wanted. When she lived, stray kittens and pups and smaller critters would find their way to the house, as if they knew of her gentle and loving heart. 

And though Azriel had been indifferent to animals at first, who was he to say no to her? He’d do anything for her. He still would and it’s why he came often to check up on them. He couldn’t bear living in the house without her so he hired someone to help.

Azriel always made sure the house was warm and safe and full of food. His devotion to this place was his devotion to her.

There was a flicker of light coming from the window and then the door was being thrown open, small but mighty footsteps making their way toward him.

“Mr. Azriel!”

A young fae girl threw her tiny arms around his leg. A soft smile curved his lips as he patted her head, his shadows curling affectionately around her small frame in response. From the doorway, another figure appeared—Bess. She stepped out with a sheepish smile. Bess was the fae Azriel had entrusted to help him run the sanctuary. She had been a long time friend of Azriel and Carina and shared the same love for animals as they did.

"Good evening, Azriel," Bess greeted, nodding to him as she coaxed her little girl back to her side. Her daughter grinned up at Azriel, giggling as one of his shadows playfully brushed over her arm.

“We were just heading to my parents’ to watch the stars. All the animals have been checked on and fed."

“Thank you,” he murmured.

"Shadow ate—" The girl paused, concentrating as she held up her tiny hand, counting her fingers slowly. His heart gave a pang he could not suppress as he looked down at the little girl by her side.  "One… two… three! Shadow ate three banana slices. He almost ate Peach’s slices, but I stopped him. It wouldn’t be fair for Shadow to eat four and Peach only two.”

“Oh, of course,” Azriel replied. He mustered a small smile as Bess smoothed her daughter’s hair, her eyes full of fondness. How many times had he imagined coming to this house to see an image like this before him. But instead of Bess and her daughter, he’d dreamed of it being Carina and his daughter. Their daughter.

When he looked up, Bess’s gaze met his, soft and knowing. 

“And then the butterflies hatched from their little chrysanthemums—” The girl babbled on.

“Chrysalis, Rina,” Bess corrected, chuckling. But at the sound of the name, her name, Azriel’s chest tightened.

Bess had named her daughter after Carina. She had still been pregnant when Carina passed, carrying the child that now stands before him. Yet he felt certain that Carina still saw her, still got to meet her in her own way. 

“She’s going to be the loveliest of girls with the loveliest of names,” Carina had whispered to Bess the moment she learned her friend was expecting.

“She? How do you–”

“Just trust me.”

“Chrysalis,” Rina corrected herself, continuing on her story of how the butterflies had emerged and fluttered about, captivating not just her but the kittens.

“Sounds like you had quite an eventful day.”

“Oh, yes!” Rina beamed looking up at him with bright eyes. “And now we’re going to wait for the stars! Would you like to come with us, Mr. Azriel?”

“Thank you but I think I’ll keep Shadow company tonight.” Azriel politely declined.

Bess’s smile faded slightly, her brows knitting in concern. “Are you sure? We’d be happy to have you over…”

Azriel held her gaze for a moment, seeing the quiet worry in her eyes. No one should be alone on Starfall, he read. But Azriel had spent every Starfall since her death alone.

So he managed a nod. “I’m sure.”

**

Azriel’s shadows stirred as he stared at the house. It stood quietly under the dark night sky. Ivy draped along the porch railings and up the walls. Night-blooming jasmines blossomed in the garden, their petals glowing softly. Moths and butterflies fluttered around, drawn to the pale flowers.  Every now and then, a firefly would blink, casting a tiny spark of light before disappearing back into the dark. Some of his shadows couldn’t help themselves, fluttering about just as the moths and butterflies did, to chase after the fireflies.  

Crickets chirped nearby and occasionally, there was the sound of a faint splash of a frog in one of the ponds he had made. He could also hear barking coming from the shed he had built in the backyard. A purring sound followed by something rubbing up against his leg pulled his attention downwards.

Azriel crouched down to pet the gray cat at his feet. Carina had named her Smoke, inspired by her smoky gray fur. Though she cared and loved animals deeply, she was not creative when it came to names. Smoke closed her eyes briefly, content with the loving pets from Azriel.

The cat was selective with her affections. Only Carina and Azriel ever earned her trust, Bess still slowly earning it. Moments later, Smoke’s kittens, barely a few weeks old, bounded out from the shadows, eager for his attention as well. His heart warmed at the sight. If only Carina could see them…

After a couple of moments, Azriel stepped inside, where he knew a little bundle of black fur awaited him. Shadow. Further proof of Carina’s lack of creativity with names as the small bunny with dark fur blinked back up at him. Carina had a long history of rescuing animals and finding homes for them. She drove her parents and Rhysand mad and though Azriel feigned annoyance, he honestly didn't mind it.

Shadow had been the first animal Carina brought to this house. She had found him by the Sidra, scared and injured. Despite his small size, Shadow had made his distaste for Azriel’s shadows clear, hissing at them and even biting Azriel a couple of times when he got too close.

But there was a time where Carina had fallen sick, leaving Azriel to care for him. The two came to a mutual understanding and eventually grew close. By the time Carina had recovered, the bunny was following after Azriel as if it were one of his shadows, living up to his name.

Cradling Shadow close, Azriel let his gaze drift down the dim hallway toward the grand staircase. He hadn’t ventured upstairs in months, maybe even a year. That part of the house had been theirs alone. A private corner of the world where they could escape, untouched by anyone else’s presence. But tonight, he felt drawn to it, tugged towards it in the wake of a dream of Carina. In it, he had been content to just hold her while she embroidered. He held her tighter in his dream, dreading the moment he’d wake up.

Setting Shadow gently back in his cage, Azriel made his way toward the stairs. One of his shadows rushed to him and curled around his ear. The message it gave had his muscles tensing in alarm.

Someone was in the house. 

His shadows coaxed his gaze to one of the rooms. Carina’s studio. The door was always closed and locked but tonight, it was wide open. His hand instinctively gripped the dagger strapped to his thigh as he approached, moving soundlessly until he reached the doorway.

Standing in the studio, holding a paper bag, was Rhysand. A scent drifted from the paper bag that Azriel knew well. Strawberries and creme. Carina’s favorite.

Rhysand seemed lost in the room, surrounded by countless paintings, sketches, and memories brought to life by Carina’s hand. She had painted Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian atop Ramiel, the three stars of Night Court glittering above them. Nearby, a sketch captured Mor mid-laughter, a glass of wine in hand, while Carina’s mother beamed beside her. Her desk overflowed with paintbrushes, pencils, and scattered paper. Above her desk, two portraits hung proudly. One of Carina’s mother and one of her father. 

But Rhysand’s gaze was fixed on a larger portrait leaning against the wall between the former High Lord and Lady of Night.

Carina loved painting everything and everyone but herself. She especially loved drawing Azriel, her greatest muse. One night, he had asked her to draw herself. She had paused and looked at him, a strange but profound look in her eyes. One he didn’t understand then but he understood now. She knew she wouldn’t be here for long.

His throat tightened as he stared at the painting, grateful she had left him something so precious to hold onto. Her beauty, even in paint, commanded attention. She shared her brother’s sun-kissed skin, raven-black hair, and striking violet eyes. But Carina’s hair tumbled over her shoulders in silken waves, a single, captivating streak of white framing her face, her brow on the same side also streaked with white.

A mark her mother always said was a blessing, kissed by the moon herself.

“I thought I’d bring these,” Rhysand said quietly, holding up the bag. “She’d never let me come here without something for her.”

Azriel’s heart clenched. He hadn’t expected to see Rhysand here, but of all people, he understood the pull of this place. Azriel had lost his partner, his wife. But Rhysand had lost a sister, his twin. The studio held the weight of memories, settling heavily on his chest.

Since becoming High Lord, Rhysand had refused to celebrate Starfall publicly. Everyone who had made the holiday joyful was gone. His father. His mother. His sister. Carina had always looked forward to Starfall, making grand arrangements at the House of Wind so they could all watch the stars migrate together.

Starfall was a celebration for those that had passed, to honor those migrating souls. But to celebrate it for Carina rather than celebrate it with her…

 It was a truth Rhysand did not want to accept, even though it’s been years. Nor Azriel.

They stood side by side, silent as they gazed at her portrait, almost expecting her to step out from the canvas, to fill the room once more with her warmth and laughter. Rhysand set the bag of crepes on the table below the painting, and Azriel noticed the slight tremble in his fingers.

“I thought... I thought it would get easier if I came here,” Rhysand admitted, his voice cracking. “But it’s as if I’m still waiting for her to walk through that door and tell me it’s all been a bad dream.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze not leaving the portrait. “I feel the same,” he murmured. “It’s hard being here but keeping this place and taking care of it...it’s the closest I can get to her now.”

A sudden, loud barking came from outside, disrupting the silence that had followed. Rhysand straightened, sharing a brief, wary glance with Azriel as the sound of a door splintering rang through the house. In an instant, they were on high alert, Azriel’s shadows coiling around him, ready to strike.

Their muscles relaxed only slightly as familiar footsteps echoed through the hall, quiet but unmistakable. Cassian appeared in the doorway, breathless from breaking in through the back. His eyes widened in surprise, taking in Rhysand and Azriel.

“I–I didn’t think anyone would be here,” he admitted, a sheepish tone slipping into his voice. “If I had known you were here, I would’ve knocked.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Azriel deadpanned.

Cassian’s mouth quirked up in acknowledgment. Azriel was right. Barging in unannounced and loud had always been his style. Carina never minded it, though. Somehow, she’d always seemed to know he was coming, greeting him with a bemused smile rather than annoyance while Azriel would glare from behind her.

“I dreamt of her and I thought she would like to see a dear friend again,” Cassian said, pulling a small rag doll from his coat.

The faded fabric was frayed at the edges, and a patch covered where one arm had once torn. It was Carina’s doll—the one Cassian had accidentally ripped one night. He’d felt so terrible afterward that he’d begged her mother to teach him to sew, spending hours pricking his fingers to stitch it back together. The doll had never quite looked the same, but Carina had cherished it even more, carrying it with her everywhere. After her passing, she’d left it for him on his bed with a letter. She had written letters for all of them.

He set the doll next to the crepes Rhysand had brought, a silent offering.

Before any of them could speak, a sharp, indignant meow cut through the air. Azriel’s shadows tensed again, hovering near the door as more sounds drifted up from downstairs. Rustling, footsteps…sniffling? 

“Stupid cat,” came a familiar voice, thick with tears, louder with each step. “I brought you, your stupid salmon…only the best, for Carina’s spoiled little brat…” The voice trailed off as Mor appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening in surprise the same way Cassian’s had just a couple of moments ago. “What are you all doing here?”

Mor glanced between the three males, eyes lined with silver.

“It wasn’t planned.” Azriel said.

“So we all dreamt of her last night, didn’t we?” Rhysand asked quietly.

They all looked at each other, eye glistening with tears and a shared understanding that needed no words. For years, Starfall had come and gone, each of them grieving Carina alone in the darkness. Too shattered to reach out, yet silently yearning for each other’s company. They had mourned in solitude, drowning in their quiet sorrows. A grief Carina would never have wanted for them and she most certainly would not have wanted them to spend Starfall, her favorite holiday, apart. 

Mor’s gaze drifted to the desk where a small portrait of Carina rested, capturing her cousin’s warm, spirited smile. Her features softened, and her hand rose to her chest, fingers grazing the silver mood ring that hung on a simple chain. It clashed with the golden mood ring she wore on one of her fingers but she hadn’t cared. Carina and Mor had bought the matching rings together at one of the night markets. On nights when Mor wished to be closer to her beloved cousin, she wore the ring around her neck.

Her gaze then landed on the crepes and doll carefully placed in front of her portrait. She then decided to unclasp the necklace from her neck and placed it gently in front of Carina’s portrait. An altar had formed–a small collection of memories now laid before Carina’s portrait. 

“Do you remember,” Mor began, her gaze still fixed on her cousin. “How she’d make us toast Starfall with raspberry wine? She’d insist it had to be raspberry, even though none of us liked it.”

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. “Not a single one of us had the heart to tell her.”

Azriel’s lips curled into a fond smile, a rare warmth softening his features. “Oh, she knew,” he revealed, sharing a secret they’d kept for years. His gaze grew distant as he remembered Carina’s delighted grin, the gleam in her eyes as she’d pour each glass herself, ignoring the grimaces as they took their first sips. “But she said it was ‘tradition.’”

Rhysand let out a soft exhale, violet eyes glittering with both amusement and sadness. “Her own tradition, mind you, not one she inherited.”

“Well, we should keep up the tradition, right?” Mor turned around to face Azriel. “Do you have any?”

Azriel nodded, his throat tightening. “Yeah,” he managed, knowing there was still a stock in the cellar—bottles he’d left untouched and unopened since the last Starfall they’d shared with Carina. “I can get us some.”

A few moments later, he returned with a bottle, his shadows carrying five glasses. The dark tendrils handed a glass to each of them, setting the fifth in front of Carina’s portrait. Azriel filled her glass first.

“It’s clear to me Carina didn’t want us alone tonight,” Mor said, cradling her glass to her chest.

“She would’ve never wanted us alone,” Cassian murmured in agreement.

“She would’ve absolutely hated it.” Azriel chimed in, his voice barely a whisper. He looked down, feeling a pang of regret and guilt. “I’m sorry. I thought it would’ve been easier alone…”

Rhysand placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulders, a look of pure empathy on his face.  “I thought the same. But I’m grateful to be here now. With all of you.” He raised his glass. “Carina has brought us together this Starfall and we’ll spend it together as she would’ve wanted.”

“To Carina, the sweetest and most loving soul.” Cassian raised his glass toward her portrait. 

The others followed after him, each lost in their own memories. As they toasted, Carina’s violet eyes seemed to shine with a spark of life. Just then, the doors to the balcony swung open, and a cool breeze swept through the room, rustling papers and lifting brushes. They felt it—a presence. Something familiar and bittersweet.

Starlight trickled through the window, casting a faint glow around the room. 

Rhysand’s breath caught as the faint hum of a melody drifted through the air, one his mother used to sing on Starfall nights. He could almost hear the distinctive footsteps of his father, the crinkling of his old leather boots. And then—the clear, bright sound of Carina’s laughter, echoing as if from a dream.

Cassian’s eyes shone with unshed tears, his hand reaching out to clasp Azriel’s other shoulder. Mor reached for Rhysand’s hand, squeezing it tightly, and he returned the gesture, pulling her close. In that moment, they were united by the memory of the female they’d all loved.

As Rhysand looked at Carina's portrait, a tear traced down his cheek. Happy Starfall, sister.

Azriel looked up at the sky, already shimmering. They all stepped out onto the balcony. The world seemed to fall silent, even the animals still as the first star streaked across the sky. It’s as if they also knew that Carina would be amongst those migrating spirits. Along with her mother and father. Along with Cassian’s mother. 

A thousand emotions surged through them. A mix of sorrow, gratitude, and love that blurred the line between the past and present.

They say that when someone you love dies, a part of your soul dies with them. They had each felt it—that aching void, the heavy absence. But as they stood together, they came to understand something else. When someone you love passes, a part of them remains with you. They remain in every cherished memory, in love and in moments like these. 

Carina may have passed, but her memory lived, woven into the very stardust that fell around them. She had come to them tonight, reminding them that her light would remain in their hearts, glowing a little brighter with every Starfall.

"En esta casa no existen fantasmas. Son puros recuerdos. Son mil sentimientos, de lo que vivimos cuando tu estabas aqui." which translates to "In this house, ghost don't exist. Only memories. A thousand feelings of what we lived when you were here."

Meanwhile in Spring Court…

Tamlin sat slumped against the rough bark of a tree, his gaze fixed on the night sky. A sense of immense guilt gnawed at him. It was Starfall tonight. He knew this because the holiday had meant so much to Rhysand and Carina. His friends. Or at least, they used to be. The twins had always spoken of the streaking spirits that lit up the sky in the Night Court.

But here, in Spring, the migrating stars were hidden beyond the distant horizon. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the stars that dotted his own skies, searching for something he couldn’t quite name.

Would Carina be among them tonight? he wondered, his heart heavy with regret. 

Tamlin couldn’t shake the feeling that her death and her mother’s was his fault. His choices had led to this moment, to this hollow loneliness that sat like a stone in his chest. He lost everything that night. His family, his friends.

But he deserved to feel this way, to feel this pain. 

Rhysand hated him, he couldn’t even look him in the eyes at the first High Lord meeting after the tragedies. And Rhysand had every right to. It was all Tamlin’s fault...

Tears pricked at his eyes and then he felt it. Something cold yet comforting like the softest of touches. Startled, he raised his hand to his cheek, feeling the dampness against his skin. He looked up to the sky but there was no rain, no storm clouds in sight. When he brought his hand up to his face, he saw pure stardust glowing back at him.  

And then he saw it– a second star. It soared across the sky, coming closer and closer. It disappeared into a pool of water just in front of him, lighting the still surface. The pool shimmered, turning to liquid starlight.

A starpool, bright and ethereal. 

Tamlin wiped hastily at his eyes before leaning forward to get a closer look. He reached out a hand, his fingers brushing along the water’s edge. The water lapped gently against his hand, coating it in the same stardust residue that coated his cheek.

The sight made his heart ache. It can’t be, he thought, looking back up at the sky for answers. There were no more shooting stars. Just the steady gleam of the ordinary ones blinking back at him. A breeze stirred through the clearing, cold yet oddly soothing. It whispered through the branches, through the leaves, a murmur he couldn’t quite decipher, but in his heart, he understood.

“I forgive you,” it seemed to say and he just knew it was her.

Tamlin’s composure shattered completely. He buried his face in his hands, not caring over the stardust that smeared his face. His tears spilled freely now as he leaned over the water, his shoulders shaking.

The weight of his grief, his guilt, his longing for forgiveness—it all poured out into the stillness of the Spring Court, witnessed only by the stars, the quiet voice of the night and the starpool that had been gifted to him by her.

[masterlist]

a/n: There's not much details about Starfall other than it being migrating spirits so I tweaked it a bit to resemble Day of the Dead more. I love this holiday so much and look forward to hearing memories of loved ones that have passed away. For the inner circle, I imagined the death of Rhysand's sister hit them all hard and in this particular au, I could see them suffering alone. But Carina definitely would not have wanted that so she visited them in their dreams and brought them together. Hope you enjoyed getting a glimpse of her. I can't wait to write more about her!

I debated a lot on whether I should've included Tamlin's bit or not but decided, why not? I think about him a lot and how alone he must've felt after becoming High Lord.

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

[mzradyer]

lovely fawn x death

elain archeron and azriel from a court of thorns and roses by sarah j maas

[viktoriaashleyyx]

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. Contains slight violence, poisons, broken bones. Also profanity. I'm not sure what else to tw if I miss something let me know. This is my first fic. I honestly don't know how to find word count, but it's roughly 4 pages on word docs. Criticism welcome. Rhysands Sister is back and she's pissed. Rhysand gets his ass whooped and Tamlin gets shown love. Enjoy.

Ch 2. Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10

Tarquin BC

Chapter 1:

I crash landed on a stone surface. A balcony of sorts? It was well built if it was, considering how long I've been falling, I'm shocked I didn't crash right through it. I know now that making a deal with the gods is a lot like making a deal with a damn djin. 

“Who goes there??” A booming male voice barked. I could hear swords drawn. Fuck where am I? My ears were still ringing, vision blurred, and chest heavy from the impact. I blinked my eyes open to find a winged male looming over me. Another illyrian? Have I finally made it home? Fuck, then that means I am in the night court. Damnit, 7 fucking courts in Prythia and I just happen to land here. At my brother's court. 

This ones expression shifted from threatening to complete shock as his gaze landed on my eyes. “Sky?” 

At my brother's court and at his fucking house, Freya has a sick sense of humor. I slowly sat up, ignoring the hand the illyrian extended to me. 

“Your wing!” He gasped. So thats what that throbbing pain was. My wing seemed to have been snapped in the fall. “You need a healer, go get Madja” he commanded the other brute. 

“Don't bother” I dismissed, standing up slowly. I pulled a small glass vial out of my pocket, a healing potion, I always kept a few on hand, never know when you're gonna need it. I downed the bitter red liquid as I've done a thousand times and grabbed the dagger off my hip. I put the handle in my mouth and bit down on it as I grabbed my own wing and straightened out the bone. I held it right for about a minute until the potion worked its magic. It hurt like crazy but I was careful not to show these idiots, the fear and shock on their faces was satisfying if I am being honest. 

“I'm guessing you are Azriel and Cassian, though I can't tell which is which” I admitted, trying to seem just polite enough to leave. 

The one next to me spoke first “I'm Azriel, he's Cassian” okay, Azriel short hair, Cassian long hair “this is Mor and Amren and she is Feyre, High Lady of the Night Court” 

“So my brother is dead?” I had hoped my excitement would come off as concern. 

“No, no, they rule together, as equals” Cassian spoke

“Got it” this conversation is dragging. I need to leave. 

“It's so nice to meet Rhysands sister, we thought you were dead, I'd heard so much about you” Feyre gushed, “Rhys is out on important business at the moment but he should be back soon.” I had no use or interest in this small talk. 

“How old are you?” I looked at her as if to study the young thing in front of me. I was never good at pleasantries. I spent a good while in isolation and I tend to just blurt out the questions on my mind. 

“I am 21” Feyre replied sharply, yep I angered her with my lack of class. 

“Ew, 21 years? Ugh, my brother always did like them unreasonably young.” I'm just gonna keep going with it, hopefully she'll throw me out. 

“My age is not a disability” Feyre snapped. 

“It's adorable that you think that.” I'm in too deep. Oops. “Anyway, I am sorry I crashed into your home, I had little control, but I would like to leave now.” 

“You will apologize and bow to your high lady.” Cassian growled. Azriel stepped in front of the door. 

“She is not my high lady, I am not a citizen of your court, in fact, I am starting to feel like a prisoner.” It's not lost on me that I have bore the title of Queen, multiple times. In both cases I have dismantled the monarchy entirely, setting up a system in which the people vote on who leads them. Her title meant nothing to me. I bow to those deserving, not the one who rely solely on birthright. But she doesn't need to know this. I have more important things on my mind than to argue with a child "I will request one more time, you move and allow me to leave.” 

“Or what?” Azriel snapped. Unmoving. 

I did not want to show this much of my hand just yet, knowing this magic is not native to Prythia. But, if they want to twist my arm, so be it. A swirling purple circle opened up under me and I fell though, closing it quickly behind me. Portals were my favorite magic to do, in more cases than once it ensured my freedom.

Landing softly on my feet, I took in my surroundings. Cool air, rolling green hills, and the sounds of birds chirping in the distance, the Spring court. I was finally home. I eventually spotted the manor I spent so much of my time at as a child. Mother didn't make me train with the illyrians as she did my brother because she feared the treatment I would receive, also by the time I came along she had befriended the ladies of the other courts. We would spend weeks here at times, the children would play together and the mothers would discuss adult things we didn't care about. One of those things being alliances, and what better way to encourage an alliance between Spring and Night than by an arranged marriage.

I didn't mind them encouraging me to play with the cute blonde shapeshifter. He was kind and silly and only a couple years older than me. The other kids, mainly Autumn boys, were rough and volatile, and I just had no interest in what they considered fun. When I would get flustered by my wings knocking things over and getting in the way, the youngest Spring boy would remind me how beautiful they were, or how powerful they made me. The few times he would get a chance to practice his fiddle, I would dance and twirl, even if it was just the arpeggios. He was the 3rd born, and I the second and a girl, they didn't expect either of us to become High lord. 

The manor was about a mile away, I shot up another portal to the door, I was tired after all and, if I'm being honest, a little excited to be back.

When I reached the door it was broken in half and wide open. I creeped inside, cautiously. It looked to be abandoned. Dirt and dust coated the walls and floors, priceless artifacts shattered and books thrown from the shelves. I noticed claw marks in the furniture. “Please just be alive, after everything, I can’t be too late.” I whispered to myself. My heart sank as I looked around. 

Further into the dilapidated manor, I heard muffled voices coming from the kitchen. “Get out.” a tired weak growl. I ran to the entrance and just as I rounded the corner I saw my brother's boot kick in the chest of.. Tamlin. He began spitting up blood. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” I hissed at my brother. 

Rhysand whipped around towards me, Tamlin looked up from the floor, eyes wide. 

“You're alive??” Rhysand darted towards me and I shoved him to the ground, rushing to Tamlins side. I knelt down beside him, held his head up from where he laid on the floor and pulled another glass vial out of my pocket. 

“It'll be bitter but swallow” I commanded gently. He didn't argue, he took the healing potion and I kissed his forehead as I laid him back down gently to address my brother. 

I stood tall. Nothing but pure rage in my violet eyes toward my brother. I always hated how much we looked alike. “THIS is the ‘important business’ you told your wife you had to take care of?” 

“I thought he killed you, he hurt my mate.” Rhysand admitted, no remorse. 

“And I finally make it back home after 300 years in exile to find you kicking mine” I state through gritted teeth. 

Rhysands eyes narrowed “your what?” It was obvious he wanted me to retract my statement, not going to happen. I didn't waste my time away, I knew I was more powerful than all of Prythia, I had to be, in case I had returned to Amarantha still terrorizing the place. 

“You heard me.” I maintained his gaze. In a split second he lunged for me and I reached my hand out into the small portal that appeared to my side. I grabbed one of the curved blades I was gifted by the warriors I previously trained with. These blades were specifically enchanted to drip poisons into the wounds they create. This one? Bloodbane, or as Prythians call it, “Faebane.” I slashed him across the face in a controlled move, just enough to leave a scar and allow the poison to sink in. 

He screamed in pain and looked back up at me. My eyes fell entirely black and cracks formed across my face as I spit my curse at him, lifting up his chin with my sword to make him look me in the eye “IF YOU, OR ANY OF YOUR LACKEYS, ENTER THE SPRING COURT BORDERS AGAIN, ALL OF THE AIR WILL BE DRAWN FROM YOUR LUNGS, AND IF YOU CANNOT GET OUT BEFORE YOU PASS OUT WE WILL FEED YOUR BODIES TO THE PIGS.” I relaxed, my face returning to normal. “Now get out.” A portal opened below him and he fell, leaving him only halfway up the steps to the House of Wind. 

I turned my attention back to Tamlin, he had sat up, the healing potion having done its job, looking up at me with a million different emotions on his face, shock, fear, concern, confusion and relief. I sat down next to him, draping my legs over his. He embraced me like I was going to disappear any minute. “You're alive. Or I am dead, I do not care as long as I have you in my arms again.” he sighed as we just sat there on the floor. 

I awoke the daemati powers I hardly used as I pressed my forehead to his. A gentle knock on the walls of his mind, and he allowed me in. I shared the memories I held dear for all these years, of us playing in the fields of Spring, the days he would spend with me in the gallery his mother gifted me, watching me paint, the mischief we would get into and the giggles we would share. His face relaxed into a soft smile as I kissed his cheek.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

@ladythornofrivia asked to be tagged❤️

[geniemillies]

drew some relevent characters in my fic, ft ocs niamh and velaria, rhys's sister bc in my delulu head she's alive and i need her far, far away from the ic

also jurian.. why is he kinda..

[umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken]

Neslin AU idea -> A ballad of beasts

AU where Tamlin, unwilling to deal with his brothers' power struggle for the High Lord title after their father's death goes FUCK NO, and legs it for the mortal realm.

He eventually finds refuge in a little, faraway village called Carterhaugh. But even though he's fae, he has no idea how shit works in the mortal realm, and he needs a safe place to stay.

BUT, he can't just saunter into the place and be like 'please will you let me into your house and give me a safe place to stay??'

That goes against all the fae rules, sanctuary must be given freely of a mortal's own choice and mind, no asking allowed.

SO

He transforms himself into a cat and wanders around until he comes across Nesta; the prickliest woman of the village, who couldn't give less of a shit about other people, but who is instantly besotted by the bedraggled and clearly malnourished cat that's mewling pathetically at her village bookshop door.

<><><>

"Oh, you poor thing," she cooed, gathering up the golden cat into her arms and scratching it under the chin.

It purred happily, and she immediately made for her small cottage at the edge of town.

"You must be hungry, don't fret little one, I'll look after you."

<><><>

She takes him home and gives cat-lin a bath and feeds him, and everything, but Tam starts feeling guilty so he poofs back into his fae male form and Nesta rightfully freaks out, screaming at him to get out of her house but eventually she listens to his story

High Lord powers -> WILL be killed by brothers

Nesta's still kinda eh,

So Tam just PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE's and Nesta is eventually just like 'jesus fucking hell, fine, but i'm gonna make you do unpaid labour in the bookshop if you're gonna stay.'

So that's how life is for a while, they grow closer, and eventually Nesta tells him her story.

Years and years ago, her sisters were out playing in the woods near their home, and she was tasked by her mother with looking after them. But then as she was watching them, a thick wreath of shadow just... gathered them up and disappeared them from sight. They were never seen again, and Nesta's mother had hated her for it until her death, and Nesta has spent every day since then hating herself for it.

<><><>

"I- I tried," her throat bobbed, eyes going distant and hazy.

"I tried to go back for them, I took my winter cloak and walked to the wall to bring them back home."

A tear slid down her cheek, "I failed."

<><><>

Tamlin immediately goes sHaDowS? kidnapping? that fukcing bastard Rhysand -> Shit, I'm pretty sure I know where your sisters are -> cue trip across the faery world to find Feyre + Elain

SO, they finally trek to the wall, trek across the courts, end up in Night, and Tamlin + Rhysand confront each other (bitter ex lovers energy, obv)

<><><>

EXTRA BACKGROUND

Tamlin's father dies of illness or smth and his two older brothers fight to the death for the High Lord title, cept the winner almost forgot about Tamlin until the magic fails to go to him and he's like 'fuck', forgot to kill the other one, so he goes after Tamlin. BUT he makes the fatal mistake of asking Amarantha for help, and she's like, oh, you're trying to kill my beloved??! UNO reverse, fucker.

DEAD.

So now she's taken over the Spring Court and still trying to find Tamlin to make him her 'mate' and become High Lord/ Lady of Spring

BUT fae magic can't be sensed in the mortal realm, so she's just kind of been wasting time being a shitty ruler.

ALSO

Turns out Rhysand has only been taking young girls from the mortal realm to keep Amarantha happy-> she sacrifices them for her magic rituals, or if she likes them enough, keeps them as serving girls/ maids, and she'd originally wanted RHYSAND'S SISTER as her companion, so he was doing it for family. doesn't make it any better, but yeah

<><><>

"But if however, I were to present you to her... I am sure her appetites would be satiated for quite some time." Rhysand's eyes glittered and Nesta's stomach roiled at the implication. Beside her, Tamlin only listened with a stony silence.

Don't. she begged. Don't you fucking dare leave me.

<><><>

Rhysand brings them both before Amarantha, who is instantly threatened by/ jealous of Nesta x Tamlin

So she proposes a bargain.

<><><>

"Is your love true, I wonder?" Amarantha's wicked fangs leered down at her.

Nesta fought to keep her voice even. "It is."

"Would you love him if he were a mere man?"

"I would."

"Would you love him if he had nothing?"

"I would."

"Ah, but would you love him if he were a beast?"

She turned to him then. To Tamlin. To the man that she had grown to love so purely and wholly. It was to him that she spoke her next words.

"Man or beast, I would love him with all my heart. Thorns and all."

<><><>

Thus begins the trial of beasts.

A blood red ribbon is used to bind Nesta and Tamlin by their wrists.

Amarantha uses Tamlin's shapeshifting powers against him and forces him to shift into beasts of all kind without any control over his body.

If Nesta can maintain her hold on him throughout his beastly transformations and endure the claws/ fangs/ gashes/ bites without cutting the ribbon, Amarantha will let them all go (Nesta, Tamlin, Feyre and Elain)

Nesta, being the bamf she is, completes the challenge.

Amarantha, pissed as hell thinking that Nesta wouldn't be able to do it, but unable to break her bargain without repercussions, has no choice but to let them go.

the end

or is it???

AMARANTHA LETS THEM GO, BUT NOWHERE DID SHE SAY SHE WOULDNT ATTACK THEM AFTERWARDS, SO THAT'S WHAT SHE DOES

she goes for Nesta, and THAT'S when Tamlin's High Lord power finally snaps into place, because it was dormant the entire time he was in the mortal realm and he goes full beast mode on Amarantha and murks her once and for all.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

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

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)

Part 2 - “Peter”

Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst

Visions of a past life plague Felina as she recovers from burnout. Rhys seeks answers. Azriel comforts his mate as past-trauma comes crashing down on her. A former lover tracks her down.

Part 1 - El Paso Series Masterlist Part 3 - Vampire

warnings: past trauma, panic attack, references to sex, elements involving death, blood drinking, violence

Forgive me, Peter. My lost fearless leader.

“Quit fidgeting, Y/N.” Mother whispers as she runs a brush through my tangled hair.

Father is in Windhaven this week and I’ve been free to roam the skies as I please, whenever mother turns a blind eye. The arts district is vibrant with life and so often my family carries me out kicking and screaming. Well, aside from my brother who hides his amusement behind a mask of irreverence. He knows I love the rainbow.

Of course, Rhys has been gone on courtly business for weeks and I am dying to see him. My brother, the one person who truly understands me. Well, as much as one’s older brother can understand their sister.

I miss him.

“Sorry, mother.” I sigh. “I’m just excited to see my brother tomorrow on our travels.”

A pause of the brush strokes gliding through my hair shoots worry through me. I grit my teeth, bracing for her next words. “What is it?” I inquire, turning to see Mother’s lovely face downcast before her warm gaze meets mine. “He’s been held up and cannot travel with us tomorrow.”

“Oh.” I sigh. Hurt running through me. It’s not his fault, he’s busy and a far more benevolent leader than our father is a ruler, though he plays the game quite well.

An hour later as I lay in bed my heart races, my thoughts spiraling into the places I do my best to forget. The males of this court always let me down. Oh the perils of being the second born heir, younger than those surrounding me, female, and never taken seriously.

The goddess of timing, once found us beguiling.

A note appears at my bedside.

“Night’s truest bloom, there is no starlight without you. Won’t you cast thy gaze upon my room? Xx, Peter”

I smile at the flirtatious note, biting my lip. “You know I can’t but think of me as you bask in sunlight while mother and I trudge through the Illyrian forests tomorrow. Rhys bailed.”

“I don’t like that you’re traveling alone. Shall I come escort you?”

I blush at the thought of walking arm-in-arm with him. Gods, I’m so totally enamored. How did it end up like this?

“You High Fae, so territorial.” I write back.

“You are partly High Fae yourself, my lady. In fact, I’m pretty sure you offered to kill the last female who got too close for your liking.”

My stomach turns. I would. The female’s a lech.

“Semantics. I’ll see you when I get back. Dream filthy dreams of me.” I press a kiss to the letter and send it off.

“Only the filthiest, my sweet Felina.”

She said she was trying. Peter, was she lying? My ribs get the feeling she did.

—————-

Felina

“Y/N?” A cautious voice stirs me from my dream. I wake to find myself in a very large bed, surrounded by luxurious blankets that likely cost twenty-fold the standard linens I’d become accustomed to - the ornate room around me more spacious than anywhere I could recall resting my head.

My body is sore, lethargic. I stretch my arms and - ouch - stiff as well.

“Take it, easy, okay? Your body was under a lot of stress.” I blink my bleary eyes to see Azriel’s concerned gaze fixed upon me.

My body feels weighed down from exhaustion but my heart, it feels heaviest of all - a feeling I’ve continued to carry since Azriel found me at the Inn. Shouldn’t I be happy to have a piece of my life in place? I have a mate - and from what I can recall, a damn good one as well.

I open my mouth to speak but his eyes go distant, a look I’m familiar with but trying to place.

An urgent knock intrudes upon the silence, a look of irritation crossing Azriel’s features before he mutters an apology to me. “He couldn’t wait for me to speak with you apparently.”

My gut clenches, dread overtaking it as the door opens. In walks a male with a face so familiar that my heart’s pace rushes. My brother, Rhys.

“Y/N.” He chokes out, love and longing written all over his beautiful face. “You’re home.”

The name. Y/N. So familiar and so foreign. I remember it now but Felina brings me comfort. “Felina, please call me Felina.” Pain flickers across his features before giving a subtle nod. “Okay, Felina.”

His eyes sparkle as tears form in his eyes. “How? How are you here? Where have you been?”

I reach a hand to touch his face, the scruff beneath itching my palm, his hand instantly finding it and leaning in. It feels so warm and familiar and yet, I yank my hand away like lightning. “I don’t know.” My breaths quicken. Flashes of centuries of lies and manipulation rush into my head and it’s all too much. I can’t process this. I can’t relive it.

My hands find my torso, wrapping myself tightly, I can’t catch my breath. The hot blur of tears fill my eyes as I screw them shut. “I’m sorry- I- I“ can’t finish the sentence as I heave, trying my best to even out my breathing and failing miserably. The inky feel of power seeps from my skin and I can’t process the male voices speaking beside me. My name; a cold, icy voice giving a command; a broken voice of night giving in to whatever was commanded as heavy footsteps pace away, and then -

Darkness. Warmth. A heartbeat in my ear. A brush of lips against my hair. Azriel.

I stay there, sobbing as the emotions crash into me like the surf to rocky shores. The pain doesn’t alleviate for what feels like an hour, the rhythm of my mate’s chest finally bringing me back to the present.

When my eyes open, Azriel is draped over me, wings cocooning protectively around my body, his heartbeat the steady constant in my ear. “I’ve got you.” He whispers. I give into his warmth and drift off again.

————————

Said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Lovers in a field. Brushed hands at balls. Green eyes meeting violet. Shared smiles.

Words from the mouths of babes

Tears cried into a broad shoulder. Whispers of “It’s not fair”, drunken chants of “fuck the cauldron!”, late nights and long dances beside reflections of starlight.

Promises oceans deep

Young lovers questioning eternity, the forces of fate. Letters signed with pen names.

But never to keep

————————-

“Brother, you need to sleep.” Rhysand stressed into Azriel’s mind.

The stubborn bastard had refused to leave Y/N’s side for the days she’d been unconscious. A huge part of Rhys beamed at that. Who was he to question the bonds forged by fate? Was Azriel being his sister’s mate ideal? In a sense, no. As an older brother, he’d always felt protective over her. But Y/N had always gravitated to Azriel, even as a child his shadows could calm her when she was fussy, his patient demeanor had always been a soothing balm to her inquisitive mind. He’d listen carefully as she pondered the great mysteries of life out loud long after the rest of the family had tuned her out.

“I’m fine.” Azriel’s conscious growled in return.

He sure as hell didn’t sound it.

“Let me send darkness to soothe her, just long enough for you to eat and get some sun.”

A pause and then the mirthful reply of “Is it an order?”

Maintaining composure the High Lord replied, “Is it necessary for me to do so?”

Ten minutes later, Azriel appeared at the bottom of the stairs, the light of the foyer emphasizing his hallowed eyes and drained skin. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.” Azriel muttered.

Rhys knew he sounded like a prick but it was true. “How about you go sun your wings in the garden?”

The energy of the room shifted as Azriel’s eyes rolled, caught between humor and bitterness as he reminded his brother for the fifth time that week of the current circumstances. “Despite your good intentions, you seem to forget that prolonged exposure to the sun is exactly what I do not need.”

“Shit! I am never going to get used to this.” Rhys placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Fine, sit. Amren brought a fresh blood supply this morning. She says it’s goat from Sevenda’s but she was in a mood, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the blood of whatever poor souls had the nerve to cross her path on the way here.”

Azriel wanted to grin at the attempted humor but didn’t have it in him. What a strange turn of the tables, Amren no longer the bloodthirsty one.

The males sat in silence, Azriel nursing the goblet of blood Nuala had kindly brought in to him. Soft footsteps padded into the space, a familiar floral scent wafting through the room, as Elain entered.

“Oh.” the middle Archeron sister gasped. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She gave a wary smile, sad eyes falling on Azriel before flicking back to Rhys.

“Not interrupting, Elain. What do you have there?” Rhys glanced to a piece of paper in her clutched in her grasp. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she spoke too quickly, her pulse fluttering. “Writing secret love letters, Elain?”

She shook her head, glancing to Azriel once again. It grated Rhys to know the recent history, or whatever it was, that transpired between Azriel and Elain. With his sister being thrown into the mix now, he was battling that instinct to protect her at all costs.

Elain blushed a soft shade of pink, nearly matching that of her pastel dress. One hand grasping the delicate wrist of the opposite. “I’ve been writing to Lucien.”

“Ah, and how is dear Little Lucien?” Rhys raised an eyebrow, lip quirking upward.

“He’s fine.” Her words were clipped. “I have to go now. Cerridwen is waiting for me in the gardens. We’re planting a new variant of night-blooming jasmine.” She gave a nod and scurried from the room.

Azriel’s lips remained in a firm line as Rhys nursed the whiskey he’d poured himself.

Months ago, her words would have hurt, sliced like a dagger at Azriel’s own lack of a bond. Now, well, he still felt jaded toward Rhys for the solstice that he essentially banned him from pursuing a relationship with Elain. But- it worked for the best. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than his own mate, his Y/N, his Felina - as she insisted she be called.

Guilt tugged at him, he should be up with her, not downstairs. What if she needed him? What if she woke with a night terror and he wasn’t there?

“She’s fine, brother.” Rhys broke him from his thoughts. “Your shadows will alert you the moment she wakes, and I have darkness soothing her.”

Shaking his head, Azriel rested his face in his own palms as if he’d rub his face hard enough and all concerns would fade away.

Finally, he looked up. “How do you do it, Rhys? How do you stay away when there are so many questions that need answered?”

Sitting his glass down onto a coaster, Rhys leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “I know she is in good hands. You brought her back to me. And I know, a mate can help her right now far more than an older brother.”

The thought warmed the icy chill that had settled into Azriel’s bones, he reveled in the moment before replying. “There’s so much we don’t know- So much we need to know.”

“You’re the spymaster, Az, and she’s your mate. I know you need answers. And gods, don’t think for a moment that I don’t want answers too. It takes every ounce of will not to just dive in to see what I can find, but…. It’s her story to tell. And, when I send my darkness to soother her, her shields, there’s something about them that my own darkness recoils from.”

Digesting the words, Azriel took another swig from his goblet. “I need to go back upstairs.”

Rhys only gave a knowing nod.

—————————

Love’s never lost when perspective is earned

Dreams shifted from young love and light to pain and darkness plague my sleep state with visions of bloodshed on pristine snow. Brutal hands of power-hungry males. Sharpened blades. A mother’s scream. Shredded wings falling to the earth.

Lost to the Lost Boys chapter of your life

And then, warm hands and a familiar face. Love and terror in emerald eyes. Strong arms carrying a broken body. Cries of “Please just hold on for me.”

A promise of “Stay right here. I’m getting help.” The back of a lupine creature running toward the distance.

Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold on.

The effort of holding on is growing too hard. My head slumps as blood trickles from my wingless back. An unheard plea of “Peter!” falls from frozen lips.

Then there is darkness. Void. Impending death.

A cold, pale hand chills my skin. A cruel, beautiful face promises eternity. Unfamiliar arms drag me away and I do not fight.

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

———————————

Azriel

Azriel had finally settled in beside a sleeping Felina, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and never let go.

His shadows alerted him to the breach in the wards first, shock running through him at the intrusion. Apparating to the entryway, he found Rhys at the front door, baring his teeth at the intruder, waves of night rolling off of him in a way that would send most running.

Icy rage shot through Azriel’s veins at the audacity of the male to show up at their door. The urge first, ask questions later pulling him toward the intruder. His lunged was interrupted by a sharp inhale behind him behind, diverting him from his war path.

His mate had walked down the stairs, her first time out of bed since arriving to the River House. Her slim form trembled, those otherworldly eyes swirling with emotions he couldn’t comprehend.

“Peter.” She whispered through rapid breaths. Azriel ran to her, bracing an arm around her back to steady her uneven footing as she climbed down the grand staircase.

The blonde male fell to his knees, his tears falling ricocheting off the marble floors.

Azriel has no time to ponder the incorrect name she’d used, focusing on her steps, observing the sight before him. He’d only ever seen the male solemn or filled with rage. Never this.

And Felina, there was no fear or hate in her eyes, no wariness, as she took in the male. No, the only emotion he could now read was one his heart wasn’t prepared to face.

So, Azriel watched as his mate’s eyes lined with tears, her slow steps increasing and filling with purpose as she reached the entryway, stepping out of his brace and flinging herself into the arms of the High Lord of the Spring Court.

—————————

Tamlin

Are you still a mind reader? A natural scene stealer?

He didn’t believe it when Lucien wrote to him sending word that Elain mentioned that Y/N was in Velaris. That she was alive. There was no way and getting his hopes up would kill him.

How many nights had he spent plagued by the memories of the day it all came crashing down? The ruination of a beautiful friendship, of a love forged from two kindred souls damned by fate, and the role he played in it.

They were both so jaded at an early age, he and Y/N. And for whatever reason he couldn’t fathom, the princess of night found the youngest heir of spring to be worthy of her presence. She was everything and he was just, a lost male. Everyone wanted her time but she wanted his, and so began the affair of sneaking off at parties, stolen kisses under starry nights, long rolls in soft grasses, love notes written with pen names.

He was Peter, the lost boy forced to grow up too soon - who wanted nothing more than a life of music and poetry but doomed to strengthen ties to Hybern, to be married off like seed stock to a mate that he hated, Hybern’s wicked general.

And Felina, feline, curious and sleek as a cat. She’d been heartbroken by a one-sided mating bond, by a mate who only saw her as the child she once was, a mate too busy pining over her cousin to notice the gem he had right in front of him.

They’d found comfort and peace with eachother, two young adults who could be whomever they wished in their stolen moments.

They were careful to avoid being caught. So careful, until the day he snuck off to watch as she traveled through the Illyrian forests with her mother, that instinct to protect those he cared for surfacing at such an early age. He thought he’d lost her forever. He’d tried so desperately to save her. By the time he returned with a healer, she had disappeared. To this day, Felina had been his greatest loss.

And moments ago when her cry called into his mind, “Peter!”. There was nothing that could hold him back from her, no wards too strong, no distance too far to winnow. There was only he and his need to see her for himself.

And now, here she was in his arms. Repeating over and over how sorry she was for not holding on, for not having faith that he’d return.

All he could choke out was, “Felina.”

We both did the best we could do, underneath the same moon in different galaxies.

—————————————

Tags:

General ACOTAR: @lilah-asteria

Series tag list: @saltedcoffeescotch @julesofvolterra @glittervame @nocasdatsgay

SPOILER FOR THIS STORY (in case you need to know who is end game) : click here

[ennawrite]

Spring’s Stars ⋆｡°✩

Word Count: 4K ish

Just remembered this piece I wrote for Tamlin week and wanted to reshare it cause I’m super proud of it.

It’s a backstory to how Tamlin (and Rhys, I suppose) became High Lord, and the days leading up to it :)

He tried to rise but could only make it to his knees before the room began spinning. Nausea filled his stomach. Tamlin closed his eyes, trying to find anything in himself to grasp onto to pull his thoughts away from the pain. He thought of music, of playing the fiddle with some of the males he met in the war camps years ago. The small spark in his chest quickly extinguished when he realized it would be weeks until he could play again, until he could do anything, really. Any movement would reopen the wounds splattering his back, that is if his father even offered him the grace of healing. He liked to linger the possibilities over Tamlin’s head, stringing him along on his sick game of life or death.

Tamlin opened his eyes and stared down at his hands in his lap, dark red ran down his arms and dripped off his fingetips onto his black trousers. He had half a mind to lay back down until he inevitably bled out, but then he remembered why his father had dealt out the beating. Why this time had been so bad, why Tamlin was not cooperating.

For some reason unknown to Tamlin, his father wanted to know the daughter of Night’s location. How his father knew his son knew her whereabouts, Tamlin wasn’t sure. Maybe it was his friendship with Rhysand, or maybe his father could sense something amiss. For fuck’s sake, he’d just seen Laila the night before. He probably still smelt like her, a mistake that he’d surely pay for if he didn’t get the fuck up now.

Tamlin gritted his teeth as he lifted off his knees, his hands shaking as he searched for any form of leverage on the blood splattered wall. His slid in the red mess causing him to jolt forward. Tamlin cried out as the gashes in his back ripped deeper from the sudden movement.

However, the pain would not deter him. His father knew where Laila and her mother were. He dealt Tamlin lash after lash, and yet Tamlin did not break. Not until his father brought a ‘friend’ in. A mind reader, apparently. He had an official name, but Tamlin could not remember it now. If anything, he was more of a mind torturer. He easily got the information out of Tamlin after worming his way through his brain, but he left visions of Tamlin’s mother being whipped on his departure. The female so badly bloodied, Tamlin actually threw up at the picture.

Tamlin realized the male was waiting outside the room the entire time, his father did not need to stoop to whipping him for the information. But Tamlin knew the lashes and the manipulated visions served a purpose of a different kind. It was loud and clear, ever since Tamlin had shown those early signs of powerful magic as a child and his mother’s worried face pleading for him to stop. Her begging him to hide his new magic. But like a childish fool, Tamlin eagerly showed his father.

Tamlin searched for any sign of that golden power now, but to no avail. His well was empty with the faebane in his system. So, he had to do this the hard way. Tamlin spit out a mouthful of blood onto the floor, the noise echoing throughout the dingy room. There was no furniture in here, just a wooden post to tie a victim to. With Tamlin being the usual victim. A room solely dedicated for his father’s dark hobbies.

Tamlin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing red across his cheek. He took in one deep, agonizing breath and pushed off of his own raised knee for leverage. The muscles in his neck strained, the veins nearly bursting and his teeth almost shattering from the force of him clenching them together.

Finally, Tamlin was standing. He leaned his head against the wall, trying to ward off the swaying of the spinning room. But nevertheless, he was standing. Tamlin tried to control his breathing, the air in his lungs escaped in fast, shallow pants. His back burned like it had been lit on fire, but Tamlin could not focus on that. Somehow, he had to get to Laila before they did. His father and brothers would not be kind to her nor her mother. Whipping was just a sliver of the grotesque arsenal they proudly carried on their belt. Even worse, they really enjoyed the chase of the hunt.

Tamlin turned away from the wall, heart pounding, and fire coursing through his veins as he thought about his father and brothers being let loose on Laila.

He would find a way to save her or die trying.

•

Tamlin made his way up the stairs, relying heavily on the rail to get up. Mercifully, the door to the basement had been left unlocked. He assumed his father did not expect him to wake up so soon. In fact, he had made sure that would be the case from the intensity of the lashes, but by the Mother, Tamlin had awoken. He would not let that divine intervention go to waste.

The manor was eerily quiet, the servants must have been sent home as there was no bustling about. His father probably deemed their prying eyes as a nuisance for his big plans for the evening, whatever they may be. Tamlin’s stomach churned at the possibilities. He quickened his pace and tried to focus on anything but the pain of his shredded back.

He made it to his room and nearly keeled over as he leaned over the wooden desk. Fresh blood dribbled on the rug, soaking deeply into the white wool. Tamlin blindly rummaged through a drawer until he found it. A small bottle, hidden in the very back. A gift from his mother, one that would surely have them both beaten half to death if ever discovered.

Tamlin uncorked the bottle with shaky hands and brought it to his lips. The milky liquid cooled his raw throat, soothing it as it went down. Tamlin nearly fell to his knees as he felt that iron chain on his power shatter.

He sighed in relief at the feeling of his body beginning to heal. It would still take days for him to be fully recovered, but this was enough to get him to Laila.

Tamlin pulled a dark green tunic over his head, careful not to disrupt the slowly-healing wounds too much. And then he strapped the bandolier of Illyrian knives across his chest, a gift from Rhysand last Winter Solstice.

With the power now pulsing through him, Tamlin ran out of the Spring manor and into the darkness waiting beyond.

•

Tamlin’s power hadn’t replenished enough yet for him to winnow, so he took his chances on horseback. The stable was nearly empty when Tamlin got there, the scent of his father and brothers lingering. His father could have winnowed them all to the Illyrian camp, but that wasn’t their style. They would be enjoying the ride of this night, drawing it out as long as they could. Tamlin’s blood chilled and he quickly saddled up the small white mare that had been left behind. They’d probably deemed the animal unworthy of riding, but Tamlin believed it to be a blessing from the Mother.

They raced through the woods, the back of Tamlin’s tunic now soaked. His wounds were in a constant state of closing and opening due to the movement. But that was the least of his worries. He didn’t know how long he was unconscious for, how much further ahead his family was. He prayed to the Mother that Rhysand was there. That somehow, someway, something was stopping his father from harming the Night Court females.

Tamlin kicked the heels of his brown boots against the horse’s side, and they ran faster through the thick canopy of trees.

•

It took too long, way too damn long, for him to reach the Illyrian camp Laila and her mother were staying at. Tamlin quickly tied the mare to a tree on the outskirts of the camp, not willing to risk being seen because of the animal’s glaringly white coat.

Tamlin quietly made his way down the hill, making sure to stay as hidden as he could behind the bare trees. He did not hear any yelling, which was a good sign. But he also could not hear much of anything. Like even the nocturnal animals of the forest had been run off by some threat. Tamlin willed his quickened pulse to steady as he made his way to the closest house, a small thing made up of grey mortar and bricks.

Gripping a dagger in his hand, he peered over the side. When he didn’t see any immediate threats, he pushed further. His back had stopped bleeding, though the pain still lingered, and he hoped his scent would not be too strong to any passerby.

Tamlin made his way to the front of the house, heart pounding at what he beheld. It wasn’t the gory murder scene he’d expected. No, instead, the camp looked abandoned. He made his way down the path. Houses were ransacked, like his father heavily searched each one and got angrier as he went on. His work becoming sloppier and sloppier. But there were no bodies. There was no blood, or at least none that Tamlin could sense.

Tamlin ran to the house he was in the night before. He pleaded with the Mother as he ran up the stairs and into Laila’s room. The place was torn apart, her belongings strewn about, but her scent was faint. She had not been here in hours. However, his father’s scent was overwhelmingly strong. He would not be far away, if his smell still lingered so. Tamlin growled over the mixing of the two scents and quickly exited the room.

•

Tamlin was walking back up the slope to his horse, coming up with ideas of where Laila could be when he heard it. The ever so faint sound of wings flapping. Then the light scent of lavender and cedar. In an instant, Tamlin was swept up, completely embraced in the arms he knew too well.

“Are you okay? You’re bleeding,” Laila fretted, cupping his face with both palms. Tamlin leaned into the touch. She found the nook of a large tree branch to settle them into.

“I’m fine. My father—“ Tamlin trailed off, looking deeply into Laila’s strikingly blue eyes. “Did he hurt you? I saw what he did to the camp.”

“No. One of the scouts spotted him and your brothers in the forest. I was able to winnow most of the camp out, the rest flew.” Laila shook her head fast, brows deeply furrowed. “The scout overheard your father boasting about where he would hang my wings.” Her voice broke on the last word, and tears welled in her eyes.

Tamlin grabbed her, pulling her tight to his body. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, her black curls dancing in the wind.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” He mumbled into her hair. “I should have been here. I should have—“

She pulled back from him, shaking her head. “You could not have stopped it if you were here. These evil creatures in power cannot be stopped.” Tears trailed down Laila’s tan face and onto her light purple dress, the droplets darkening parts of the fabric.

“I would have killed them for you. Or at least die trying.” Tamlin cupped her cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb. His own eyes now burned with emotion.

“I know, my love. I know you would have. And I could not bear witnessing that.” Laila kissed his palm before continuing, “My father, he’s no better. Not really. He plans to marry me off to an Autumn Court son.”

Tamlin went wholly still, his hand dropping from her face as his breath hitched in his throat.

Laila nodded, a small sob escaping her. “The papers are signed, the wedding is set for next week,” She laughed lightly, the sound bitter. “That is, if your father doesn’t kill me first.”

“No,” Tamlin demanded, shaking his head. “No. I’ll get you out of here. You and your mother. I won’t let you two suffer anymore.”

Laila smiled sadly, “There is nowhere for us to go, Tamlin.” She placed a hand on his heart. It thummed in answer to her touch. “You are a good male. My brother as well. But there are not many others like you. No matter where we go, they will either hunt us for sport or sell us off like cattle. This is not anything new.”

Tamlin’s heart broke at the look on her face, at what she had been going through her whole life. Yes, Tamlin had to deal with his father, but he was able to walk freely without outside threats looming over his head. He wished he could scoop her up and bring her to a new world, where females did not have to fear living. Wish he had the power to create that new world for her.

Tamlin embraced her tightly, holding onto her as if this would be his last time doing so. “I love you, Laila. You are bound to my soul, like roots in the spring soil.”

Laila looked up at him, her blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “And I love you, Tamlin. I will love you, even when the last star in the night sky fades into nothing.”

She stood on her tiptoes, interlocking her hands in his blonde hair. Their lips met and the outside world faded into nothing. Their problems no longer existed as they kissed, becoming one against that tree.

•

Later, Laila flew them to a nearby lake so Tamlin could wash away the blood from his body before they went to her mother. His tunic stuck to his back, courtesy of the dried blood, making Tamlin wince. Instantly, Laila was behind him, and she tenderly unpeeled the shirt from his back. Tamlin thanked her with a soft smile and waded into the water, just enough to be half submerged.

Laila followed and began lightly washing him with a makeshift rag—a piece of Tamlin’s tunic she ripped off. Tamlin looked out at the water, at how the hundreds of stars reflected on the surface. It was hard to tell where the sky ended, and the water started. A starlit lake, of sorts.

Tamlin began thinking of the starlight pool in his own court. How odd the little body of water was, and the stories that came with it. Some claimed it to be a portal, a door built by the Mother herself.

Shivers went down Tamlin’s spine as Laila hummed quietly to herself, scrubbing his hair.

In that moment, Tamlin knew what he had to do.

•

“You can’t be serious.” Laila’s wide gaze burned into him.

“We have to try, Laila. You two can’t live like this,” Tamlin said, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

They made it to the small cottage she left her mother at. The older female managed to scrounge up a small dinner for them with the few resources she had, and Tamlin decided now was the best time to lay out his plan.

“You don’t even know if it leads anywhere.”

“I will make sure of it in the morning. If it doesn’t, I will find you somewhere else to go. I will not let Beron keep you in his claws. Or my father.”

Laila stared into his eyes for a moment, and then silently nodded her head.

“Rumors say the pool leads to another world. I have heard of it enough that parts of it must be true. There is always truth in rumors,” Laila’s mother spoke from the head of the small table. The Lady of the Night Court looked fragile, her skin unusually pale, with a blanket wrapped around her. Her plate left untouched.

“Will you travel through it?” Tamlin asked, setting his fork down.

“I will do anything to get my daughter out of here.”

“Okay, then. We will set out tomorrow.”

•

At sunrise, Tamlin winnowed to the Spring Court. He knew his father or brothers would get word of his arrival soon, so he had to be quick. Tamlin jumped into the water, and rapidly kicked his feet until he hit the bottom. A sliver of glowing golden light caught his eye, he swam closer to it. He did not have the time to go through it, so he threw a rogue conch shell into the crack. It disappeared. He waited a moment. Still, it did not come back. Where it went, he was not sure. But for the first time in a long time, his chest glowed with hope. With a promise for the future.

•

A few hours later, right at dusk, Tamlin was back at the pool. Laila and her mother in tow. Late last night, he’d set a trap for his father and brothers to keep them occupied with. A couple of vandals he’d picked up from Spring’s dungeons, glamoured to resemble the Ladies of Night.

“Are you ready?” Tamlin asked the females, both trembling slightly, their wings drawn in tight.

They wanted to seek out Rhysand, but time would not permit. He did not know how long the glamor would hold out on the males, or if it even would. It was a power he had not gotten a chance to utilize much, especially not on others. It was either now or never. Laila’s mother was the first to move, she nodded quickly.

“Right. I will go first. To ensure there are no threats on the other side,” She said, holding her head high on her shoulders. She hugged her daughter tightly, kissing her on the cheek. She moved over to Tamlin, squeezing his shoulder and nodding once at him. A small gesture of approval for what he was doing. Then she walked to the pool and dived in headfirst. The water rippled in her wake.

Tamlin looked back at Laila, her blue eyes shining with tears. She stumbled into his arms, her lavender and cedar scent fully engulfing him. “Please don’t make me wait too long.”

He gently rubbed her head, her hair feather soft under his calloused palm. “I would never dream of doing such a thing. Though, I do often think of that one night when I was gone for two weeks. You seemed to miss me a lot.” Tamlin grinned widely at the memory. “So much so, actually, that we didn’t sleep a wink the entire night.”

Laila lightly slapped his chest and Tamlin laughed, the sound reverberating through the trees. The birds answered, their sweet songs echoing back. Laila stared up at the darkening sky, at the canopy of trees surrounding them, swaying in the warm breeze.

“I would have loved to marry you in this world, Tamlin. To leave the courts behind and live simply as you and me.”

Tamlin pulled Laila tighter to him and their lips met, the feeling so sure and right. Tamlin’s chest burned, his soul aching to be with hers. He would be with her in the next world, or the next life if the Mother did not permit this one. But he would find her soul in every life, he knew that much to be true.

“Laila, it is time,” The Lady of Night said from the pool. Tamlin looked at her, her usually braided back black hair was now loose down her back from the water, the starlight casting it in a shine. Her hazel eyes twinkled, in a way Tamlin had not seen before. “The portal is real. And we must go now.”

Tamlin’s pulse quickened and he let go of Laila. “Go,” he said. “Go and I will be there soon.”

Laila nodded, brushing his face ever so slightly with her long tan fingers. A shiver went down Tamlin’s spine. He watched as she jumped into the water. She looked back once, her blue eyes burning into his green gaze, before both of their heads disappeared fully under the water.

Tamlin quickly turned, headed towards the manor. He had one last thing he needed to take care of.

•

When Tamlin reached the manor, no one was home. His father and brothers were of course accounted for, but he had no idea where his mother could be. And he would not leave without her. Would not let her live like this any longer.

Tamlin searched every room in the manor, and then the grounds. He’d hoped she would be in her rose garden, where she often spent much of her day, but she was nowhere in sight.

Frustrated, Tamlin paced his bedroom. Hours passed, the moon rising fast in the night sky, until finally he heard the front door open. The sound of his brothers' obnoxious voices and then his father’s steps down the hall. Tamlin froze, waiting for his door to swing open. He had his knives, but that would do no good against a High Lord. Thankfully, his father’s footsteps kept going.

He heard his brothers walk by and return to their rooms as well, his mother’s rose scent with them. Tamlin sighed out in relief. She was here, he would have to get her alone somehow, but she was here.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, his body exhausted. He’d been running on adrenaline for the past two days, his back still healing from the lashes.

At sunrise, when his father and brother went on their morning hunt, he would get his mother and take her to the starlight pool. But tonight, he would rest. His chest seemed to ease a bit as he laid down fully. It did not take him long to fall asleep, and soon he was dreaming of a life with Laila. Of their wedding. Of their children running to their grandmothers.

But the sun never did rise.

•

It was midnight when Tamlin heard his mother scream. He threw his bedroom door open, knives completely forgotten in his haste. His nostrils flared as that all too familiar coppery scent of blood filled his nose. Tamlin ran faster down the hall until he reached his parent’s room. His father laid bleeding out on the floor; the male’s throat deeply slit. Even his High Lord’s magic was having a difficult time repairing the wound. Tamlin looked up, his mother’s golden curls flashed as the perpetrator lifted her up by her neck, her bare feet dangling in the air.

“No!” Tamlin yelled, racing towards them but it was too late. Barely a breath later, his mother’s head landed at his feet.

Tamlin did not think as he shifted. He felt power course through his veins, more than he ever had before. Perhaps his power fed on anger. On heartbreak and devastation.

In a blind rage, Tamlin leapt on the male. The beast he’d become had long, razor-sharp claws. A real blade was not needed as he ripped through the male’s neck. Blood spurted out and Tamlin dug deeper until he sliced through bone. Tamlin growled loudly as the male’s head detached fully from his body. He stood over the body, teeth snared and dripping blood.

“What did you do?” A voice demanded from behind him. It was familiar enough that it brought Tamlin out of that angry haze.

Tamlin looked to see the son of Night. Rhysand. His friend. Tamlin looked back at the body he stood over and he finally realized whose head he’d just ripped off. Who killed his mother. The High Lord of the Night Court. Laila and Rhysand’s father.

Tamlin shifted into his fae form and stalked towards Rhysand. “What are you doing here?” He commanded from the male.

“Oh, don’t act so innocent, I know you told them. Your brothers squealed like pigs before I ripped their fucking throats out.”

At Tamlin’s bewildered expression, Rhys continued, “They sent my mother and sister’s heads in a gods damn box, Tamlin. You let them do that.”

“You don’t know wha—“

“I saw them. I opened the fucking box.” Rhysand’s face turned a sickly green. “You were my friend. I introduced you to my sister and you what? You fuck her and give her whereabouts to your father? You helped them kill Laila.”

The sound of sentries running through the manor’s grounds filled Tamlin’s ears. They must have heard the commotion and would be here soon. Tamlin shook his head slowly, “Rhysand, listen, they—“

“No. I don’t care what you have to say. But never cross me again, or your head will be on a spike in your mother’s little rose garden.” Rhysand slowly began to disappear into the shadows whirling around behind him. “I guess congratulations are in order, to the new High Lord of Spring.” And with that, Rhysand disappeared fully into the darkness.

•

Tamlin did not linger for much longer in the hallway. Did not even wipe the blood from his hands before he was out the door and headed to the starlight pool. It was sunrise by the time he made it, the trek longer without a horse and his chest ached as he watched the morning sky open.

He failed to save his mother. The female he’d found comfort in throughout all these years of being his father’s toy. The soft, broken female who deserved to live in a world far better than this one. And he was so fucking close to giving it to her.

The morning birds began their song and Tamlin felt the power course through his veins. The wind blew his golden locks across his face, and Tamlin wielded it to stop. It did.

There was now a well of power in him, so deep he knew he could never fully fathom it. He could probably spend the next century diving into it and never hit the bottom.

No longer was he heir to the Spring Court. It was now fully his. He could change it for the better, if he chose to do so. But if he stayed, he would not bring Laila back. Could not. Not with Rhysand and not with Beron looming about. It was too dangerous here, the threats too extreme. As High Lord, he would always be a target for people seeking power. He would not force Laila to be part of that game.

Even more so, if he left, then there was no telling who the power would go to. Tamlin would not let someone else like his father lead the Spring Court. Their people had suffered enough under his rule.

Tamlin thought of Laila, of his dream of their life beyond. A future that had been ripped to shreds in the span of mere hours. But perhaps it was enough to get her out of here. Her and her mother could live freely in this other world, without the limitations they’d face here.

By noon, Tamlin knew what he had to do. He just wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to. But as High Lord, what he wanted didn’t matter anymore. Maybe it was selfish, but he spent hours looking for a sign from the Mother—any sign—to lead him in the right direction. He’d put his full trust in her thus far, so when a lonesome stem of a lavender plant landed in the pool and sunk under, he knew what was expected of him.

Tamlin dived under the silvery water, stars clinging to his skin. When he made it to the crack of the portal, he threw all of his power into it. His magic shone brightly as it hit the slit, casting the water in iridescent light.

He gritted his teeth, his leverage wearing thin under the water. In a blinding flash, Tamlin was thrusted back, the impact weakened by the water. He swam back to the crevice, only to be met with a faint line in the sand. A faded, white scar left behind in this world.

A twin to the one now etched on his very heart.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Plants Of Thorn Bear The Prettiest Of Flowers

Summary: Another day, another kill.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: Alright, so before you read this, be warned. The reader in this is bit dark and will do anything to win her father's approval.

FYI, she is the middle child, the second born after Rhysand and before Celeste, the one who later on dies along with their mom

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n flipped the dagger again, for what felt like the thousandth time as she walked through the winding halls of the Moonstone palace, humming a tune her father had hummed to her when she was a child to calm her down.

Her lips lifted at the edges, knowing she was the only one who got to see that side of their father.

It was not that she was glad that her father could not be bothered about her siblings, it was just that he was the only one who ever really gave Y/n any ounce of kindness other than her mother, and Y/n had snatched whatever scraps she could get and then moulded herself to someone who would not have to rely on scraps for affection.

"She can not find out about this, you know that right? She would skin us both alive." Y/n paused, her head turning the slightest towards where the voice was coming from.

Celeste. The youngest of the three children the High Lord had sired.

Y/n stood still, straining her ears to listen to what she was saying. Or more like who she was saying it to.

Y/n was almost sure Celeste was talking about her.

"I know."

The voice that reached Y/n's ears next was one she knew all too well, one she had come to like. Not love, not yet. That would be taking things too far too soon.

Alan.

"You need to leave."

"I know..."

Y/n glanced towards where the voice was coming from, cocking her head. It was a room where the servants kept supplies.

Honestly, they could have chosen a better place to partake in whatever act they had. Y/n rolled her eyes internally.

She turned away, and before they could realise that the event they had been fearful about had already come to pass, walked towards the nearest exit, erasing all traces of her presence as she went.

She opened her mind after she had hidden herself away in shadows, and it did not take long to have her father's attention on her.

Yes?

There is an intruder in the palace.

She knew she had her father's full attention on her then.

Interesting. Bring it to me.

On it.

•○🌑○•

It did not take long for Y/n to catch this intruder, and it took even less time for her to winnow him to her father's office, where her siblings were already waiting with him in tow, a bag over his head.

When she saw her siblings in his office, Y/n figured her father had drawn the conclusion that someone had let him in.

Y/n strutted in through doors, shoving the male she had in her arms to the floor.

"There comes my daughter." The High Lord drawled.

Y/n inclined her head, folding her arms behind her.

"Why have you summoned us here, father?"

Y/n glanced at her brother without moving her head, watching his face as it contorted with confusion.

But at his side, Celeste stared and stared at the male at Y/n's feet, the colour draining from her face.

"I'm sure Celeste knows why you have been summoned, don't you, Celeste?" Their father tuned his shrewd eyes to his youngest, whose eyes flew wide, shaking her head.

"I don't know what you are-"

"Don't play the fool with me girl. If you did not know who this was, you would not look like you had seen a ghost."

Rhysand's eyes flitted between his baby sister and father, wanting to know what the hell was going on.

"Y/n found an intruder walking freely around the palace." Their father spoke, drawing everyone's attention. "And he could not have come up here by himself, for he has no wings. Only four people have wings inside these walls, and neither Y/n nor your mother would have done this. That leaves you two to bring him up here, let him enter the wards. So," He stood, rounding the magnificent mahogany desk to lean against it, his hands in his pocket. "Who is it?"

Rhys glanced to Celeste, his eyes holding something akin to rage.

He sighed before he opened his mouth. "I brought him here. He is a friend-"

"Do you take me for a fool, boy? You have no friends save for the illyrian scum."

Rhys swallowed, and Y/n could see his hands clenching from where he had them behind his back. "Father-"

"If you continue lying, Celeste will receive the punishment for you."

Rhysand's mouth shut with an audible click.

"Ask her if she brought him up here. Do not waste my time, I have much work to do."

Rhysand only glanced at Celeste, who, with a scathing glare at Y/n, dipped her chin in a small nod.

"Hmm. Y/n?"

Y/n moved, walking to the shelf behind the desk and pulling out a whip, only one of multiple, and walked back to her father, holding it out to him.

He picked it up, studying it for a few moments before he hummed. "This will do. Celeste, now I want you to whip this young man here. Would fifty lashes be enough?"

No one moved, except for Alan, who began struggling. Y/n felt the heat of two glares on her face.

"Answer me!" The high lord's facade slipped for a moment, and he screamed, his voice high and scary, making his oldest and youngest flinch. Y/n stood still as a statue at his side, staring at a wall opposite.

"Father please." Celeste's voice wobbled, and Y/n ignored the part of her that rebelled at the fear that filled her voice.

Calm settled once again in her father's voice when he spoke next.

"Fine. If you don't want him to live, I will let Y/n slit his throat. That way you will have his head to keep in your room, and you won't sneak any more boys in."

Y/n knew it was no suggestion. That had been his plan all along, to kill the male.

Alan had stilled once again, the smell of fear that emanated from him very nearly overwhelming Y/n.

Y/n bowed her head to her father, and unsheathed the biggest dagger she owned, stalking forward.

Her previous lover looked up at her in fear when she tugged off the bag, silver lining his eyes as she grabbed him by the hair.

"Please. Don't do this." He whispered.

Y/n slipped into his mind, staring deep into his eyes as she raised the dagger to his throat, ignoring the scream emitting from her sister. She could not stop until her father told her to, and she would rather not disappoint him.

"This is what you get for betraying me, my trust, and wasting my time."

"Please don't do this Y/n. You know I love you. She tricked me-"

But before he could let another word slip, his throat was slit, and he drew in a wet sounding gasp, blood bubbling from the deep cut.

He was dead before his head was separated from his body. Y/n, still clutching his head, turned to look at her father as his body fell forward, landing with a sickening thud, blood splattering everywhere.

She raised her hand slightly, and he nodded to where her sister kneeled, her eyes fixed on the body on the ground. Swallowing the guilt that rose, Y/n let the head drop and roll to her sister's feet.

Rhysand, who clutched at Celeste's arms to keep her from running to Alan's body, growled. His eyes flashed to Y/n, filled with hatred, and Y/n turned away. Meeting her father's eyes, who smiled wide at her, and nodded his head to her legs.

"Get some servants to clean the filth up, then go and eat something."

Y/n bowed, then walked out the door, leaving all the events of the evening behind and hoping she could forget it all after she added a mark for him to her skin as a testament to her kills.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

[readychilledwine]

Surprises pt 2

Summary - Azriel has wanted his High Lady for a long time, and now he finally has his opportunity

Warnings - mentions of edging, mentions of power play, overstimulation, oral, vaginal penetration, joining halfway through for... purposes.

A/N - I think we all know where this is going 👀👀👀

Peep Part 1 Here

Azriel wrapped his fist around Briar's blonde, forcing himself deeper into her mouth as Rhysand pounded her from behind. He couldn't help but smile as she gagged, drool forming around the corners of her lips as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Good girl,” he praised. “Taking all of this cock so well for such a little thing.”

A loud snack had her moaning around him, pretty green eyes rolling and fluttering shut as Rhys spanked her hard. “Feel like heaven, darling.”

They had been torturing her since the meeting ended. Edging her for hours before finally giving her their clocks for relief. She was spent, mind lost to pleasure, legs constantly shaking, clit so sensitive to the touch she would whine at any contact. Close, he warned Rhys in his mind. Rhys nodded in agreement, eyes rolling slightly as she twitched around him. “Gonna be a good little whore and cum for us?” Azriel asked her gently. She hallowed her cheeks around him, swallowing around his cock with glazed over eyes.

She knew better than to beg. Rhysand had trained that out of her centuries ago. Instead she focused on working Azriel, watching as his head fell back and his wings fluttered. She felt the grip in her hair tighten. She felt both of them twitch. She began to suck more greedily, wanting to taste Azriel, wanting to please him so maybe he would allow Rhysand to let her cum. Azriel groaned out loudly. His thrusts in her mouth getting sloppy and gagging her each time.

She could also feel Rhys growing sloppy behind her, his mouth getting dirtier and dirtier as she squeezed him in her walls. “Gonna cum,” he panted out. “Too fucking good.” Azriel nodded above her, his mouth parted slightly as he moaned. “Fuck!” Rhys came first, spilling into his mate and shaking the mountain with his power. Azriel came after, forcing himself deep into Briar's throat, and watching with list filled eyes as she was forced to swallow every drop. He pulled out of here watching as Rhysand grabbed her arms and forced her body up more, giving Azriel access to her clit. Azriel began to circle with his fingers gently. Her head fell back to Rhysand's shoulder, mind now completely hazed over to where she did not even notice the door open.

Cassian whistled, leaning against the wall and shutting the door to watch. Rhys had taken over pulling her hair, turning her head to force her to look at Cassian and Azriel tipped her over the edge. “Cum,” Rhys commanded, a smirk playing on his lips. “Be a good girl and Cum so Cassian can see how pretty you look.”

And she did, she came with a small scream, hips wiggling on Rhysand's cock sat inside of her, whimpering and crying out as she soaked him and the bed below them.

Azriel moved away, leaning back against the pillows, “Cassian.”

“Where was my invite?”

Rhys pulled out of his mate, allowing her to fall on the bed, head in Azriel's lap. “You just got it.”

[thefatesofspring]

Acotar x Hunger games HC fic idea

(plsssss can someone make this happen😭😩 I wish I could but I don’t have the time)

Desperately need someone to write an ACOTAR x Hunger Games style fic for book 1 where Nesta volunteers as tribute to do Feyre’s trials from Amarantha determined not to let her sister down this time.

Instead of just Feyre being the one to fall in love with Tamlin it’s Nesta too…👀 how?…because Tamlin actually manages to visit Nesta in her cell in between trials & things spark between them from there. Feyre & Elain are kept somewhere else (of course Rhysand knows where but Tamlin does not)

All 3 Archeron sisters UTM, Rhys uses Feyre against Tamlin as he did in book 1 with the lap dances, forcing her to drink etc because he thinks Tamlin loves Feyre but…the whole time Tamlin realised he never loved Feyre he just loved that he wasn’t alone anymore but really he’s in love with Nesta & she him & towards the end Rhysand realises this & snitches to Amarantha!!!😭😭😭

Amarantha is furious (naturally🙄) so she chooses to make Tamlin lash Nesta until she passes out😭😭😭 Nesta tells him it’s ok, to do it as she sees Tamlin hesitate & go to refuse but at this point Nesta & Tamlin realise Amarantha has Elain by the throat, Nesta looks at Tamlin with love & and small smile, nods & Tamlin’s hand trembles as he reaches for the whip that’s laced with a toxin, Rhysand realises he fucked up when he sees a single tear slide down Tamlin’s cheek, Feyre looks mortified for many reasons but one of them is because she realises Tamlin & Nesta have somehow fell for each other.

Tamlin manages 10 lashes as Nesta pants & is barely hanging on, she tells Tamlin she loves him & to keep going…only every fae realises what Nesta has said including Tamlin…the room is silent for a minute & then BOOM! Masks fall off, Amarantha screeches & kills Elain, she then goes straight for Feyre kills her, like in canon Rhysand goes “Feyre!” Blah blah, Tamlin roars loud & secured Nesta with Lucien & Thesan, he turns his attention to Amarantha who is fucking terrified.

Amarantha disappears just before Tamlin can get her.

Tamlin grabs Feyre‘s & Elain’s body

& honestly that’s where I got to, the rest can be made up😩😭😂

[highlordofkrypton]

some people participate in ship wars, but after participating in @tamlinweek, me @ all the ship variations: