#high lord of spring court

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 3100+

Warnings: none

Part XXIX | Epilogue

Engaged.

You were engaged. If there wasn't that beautiful ring on your finger reminding you that it was real, you wouldn't believe it. Every morning after waking up you spent several minutes just staring at it, touching it and absorbing the reality that you were engaged to Tamlin, the amazing male laying next to you. The male who offered you an endless love and protection, and who was willing to go so far as to rebuild his destroyed mansion for you.

Your life had again changed in a blink of eye and even though it was quick series of the first times, this time it was at least change to better. And the best thing about that all was that you had control over it and you could pull back anytime you wanted.

After you said your yes, later at night Tamlin winnowed both of you back to your cottage, you ate the last dinner together and then went to bed. Next morning he asked you again, if you were really okay with moving to his freshly renovated manor to get used to the place, make it more homey and mainly to begin the preparations for the wedding.

You needed a moment to think it over. Saying yes would be like pushing a start button. Everything would be set in motion at once with a single simple word. Tamlin made sure you understood that if you didn't feel ready for it yet, he would wait as long as needed. He wasn't in hurry and even though he didn't hide the fact that he couldn't wait to call you his wife, he wasn't even against living like this for a bit longer.

Another reason you needed some time was this place and memories connected with it. The cottage in the woods was your safe space for centuries. However, now a beautiful blond haired male with emerald eyes stood in front of you, offering you his hand, a new safe place where he would be the one to protect you. And to love you. Just like in those fairytales and romantic stories you liked so much.

As soon as you realized it would be Tamlin who would be with you all the time and that was the only thing that really mattered to you, it wasn't so hard to make a decision anymore.

Since you didn't own much, it was a very easy task to gather your things. It didn't take you long. When all your belongings were gathered on the bed, Tamlin stepped to you, hugged you and promised to keep the cottage intact, so you could come back whenever you wanted. He seemed to be just as sad to leave this place as you were.

And so short after the noon you were moved to his manor to that bright bedchamber with private balcony where he had proposed to you.

Probably the hardest part of this all was to tell your brother that you were going to get married. Naturally, Rhysand knew about the renovation of the manor. And he knew about your moving in, too. Indeed, his spies kept him well informed.

When he came for a visit, he immediately noticed the ring on your finger. You expected the worst, some ugly outburst, persuasion, even a fight. He stiffened, his eyes darkened, but he said nothing, waiting for you to tell him the news. You felt a storm coming your way, but he just smiled, sincerely, hugged you and congratulated you. Throughout his visit he was unnaturally quiet. You were really worried. As soon as he came you noticed that something wasn't right, but he said nothing. He just sat next to you, held your hand while you tried to get him speak by asking him any random question that crossed your mind. At the end he leaned to you resting his head on your shoulder and sighed heavily.

However after that, before leaving, he asked Tamlin for a word somewhere they wouldn't be disturbed. Tamlin offered his new office. They shut themselves inside and came out after three hours. You were nervous and because you didn't hear any sounds of fight or shouting, you tried to spy on them. But you still didn't hear a single word, the office was warded. All you could do, was waiting in front of the doors and pray to Mother they wouldn't kill each other.

When they finally came out, Rhys just hugged you, holding you longer than usual and left. Frowning Tamlin came to your side, his hand slid to the small of your back and declaring he needed fresh air, he took you to the gardens. Entire time he was quiet and still frowning, he didn't speak much for the rest of that day. You asked a few times what happened, what they talked about, but he just shook his head and said nothing. Wedding preparations still continued as planned, so you assumed that whatever happened in the office, it probably wasn't so bad and stopped asking.

After that day Rhysand stopped coming for visits which was really worrisome. Instead, he wrote you at least once or twice a day. His letters were as usually full of care and questions of your wellbeing, but you could feel there was something else he didn't want to tell you, that bothered him. You knew he wouldn't tell you until he was ready, so you didn't push him and waited.

Until that day came.

You woke up with sunrise in Tamlin's embrace, feeling warm, protected, loved and above all nervous. Because it was your wedding day.

Tamlin was still peacefully sleeping, his naked chest rising and falling with calm, deep breaths, small smile on his lips. It was funny how the both of you always slept in tight embrace as you used to do in your narrow bed at the cottage, even though now you had an enormous bed whole to yourselves. You couldn't complain though because you loved the moment when Tamlin came to bed and crawled to the middle to you. He always hugged you firmly, tugging you so impossibly close to him that there was no space left in between you. Honestly, for you this was the best part of the day.

Smiling to yourself you watched him for a while and then tried to fall asleep again, but unsuccessfully. You didn't want to wake him up by moving around, so you ended up gazing at him, trying to memorise every small detail of his face, every line, texture of his skin, every muscle and every single hair and eyelash.

"You are gazing, love," he cooed without opening eyes, his voice hoarse in that sexy way.

"I can't sleep," you whispered, taking that unruly strand of hair that fell into his face between your fingers. You played with it for a moment, twisting it on your finger and then you tucked it behind his ear.

Tamlin chuckled at your doing. "Nervous?"

"Uhm, little bit," you lied. One emerald eye opened looking down at you. You rolled your eyes. "Fine. Quite nervous."

He laughed and opened both eyes. His long fingers tangled in your hair and imitating your previous action he twirled few strands on his index finger.

"Everything will be alright. It'll be perfect. No need to worry."

"I'm not worried. Just nervous," you shrugged.

His smile slowly disappeared, instead his lips pressed into a thin line and he swallowed hard. His heartbeat suddenly quickened and he paled.

Your eyebrows knitted together.

"Are you okay?" You raised up on your elbow, worried.

"It's nothing. I guess now I'm nervous, too."

Cupping his face in your palm, you kissed him. "I won't run away," you reassured him.

"I know," he mumbled, but he was still so tense.

You leaned down and kissed him properly this time. Taking the initiative, you made him to part his lips and slipped your tongue into his mouth. He growled in approval of your provocation.

Tamlin gently flipped you to your back, caging you under his body. His mouth moved to your jaw, trailing down your throat to your collar bones and then even lower to your breast. He sucked in your nipple through thin material of your nightgown and you moaned with pleasure.

"Tonight I'll tear this damn thing into pieces," he growled promising. "But now, we should get up and get ready. The first guests will arrive soon."

You groaned in protest, but you let him to pull you up with him as he rose, sitting on his heels. He looked much better now. Just one look into those dimly shining emeralds and you knew that after everything would be over that night, you would continue at what you did moments ago and even much more. A different kind of nervousness settled in your belly.

Tamlin gave you one more sweet kiss and then stood up and headed for doors. With hand on handle he halted and looked back at you. He bit his lower lip. In a blink of eye he bridged the distance between you with few long strides and swept you into his arms. He kissed you so deeply that your knees buckled. His head fell to your shoulder, snuggling to your neck.

"I'll wait for you at the end of the aisle," he whispered into crook of your neck. "Please, don't let me stand there alone for too long."

"I'll be there," you promised with dazed smile on your lips. "The one in white."

Tamlin kissed you one more time and he was gone. Just moments after he left, several smiling maids came in with your dress, veil and accessories and helped you to bath and dress up.

You stood in front of a tall mirror, maids fixing last details, when a knock sounded. One of them ran to the double doors and carefully peeked out.

"It's High Lord Rhysand, milady" she chirped happily. "Can I let him in?"

"Oh, yes, please. Thank you," you smiled kindly at her and turned to face the doors.

Rhysand peeked in, hand covering his eyes. "Are you sure? I wouldn't like to see.. you know.. something I'm not supposed to."

"I'm already dressed. You won't see anything inappropriate," you rolled your eyes, happy to finally see your brother.

He closed the doors behind him and looked at you. You gasped. Even though he was smiling at you, he looked horrible, haggard.

"Something happened to you? Or to somebody else? Is Feyre alright? Are you in some kind of trouble?" You spouted questions at him at once.

He just waved his hand. "It's nothing you should worry with. Look at you!"

He circled around admiring you, tears shining in his violet-blue eyes.

"You are beautiful, sweetheart!" He squeezed you in his arms, careful not to wrinkle your dress. "The most beautiful bride I've ever seen."

"Now you are exaggerating," you laughed. "Where's Feyre? And the others?"

He smiled sadly. "Feyre wanted to come so badly, but she couldn't. She misses you so much and can't wait to come to visit you. She hasn't been feeling well lately. It's nothing serious," he added quickly noticing the change in your expression. The corners of his mouth twitched. "She said to hug you for her, too. Mor and Cassian are here, waiting with the rest of guests. And Az.. well.. he couldn't come as well." You nodded, sad, but you understood why he couldn't be here with the others.

"He wishes you to be happy though."

"Tell him thank you."

"Hey, what's that sad face for," Rhys cupped your face between his hands, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks, wiping tears away before they could ruin your makeup. "It's your big day, Y/N. You should be happy and smile."

You showed him the best smile you could master.

"There you are. Mum would be so happy and proud of you if she was here with us."

Small knock sounded on doors and maid peeked in. "It's time, milady."

"I'm coming," you called back.

Rhys squeezed you in embrace for the last time and stepped back, offering you arm. "Are you ready?"

You let out a shaky breath, suddenly being again nervous. Your palms were sweating.

"I think I am," you swallowed hard and accepted his arm. "Don't let me trip and fall down."

"Don't worry, I won't. Let's go."

As you together walked down the halls and staircases, you didn't perceive any of it. You were so nervous, heart beating in your throat, your breath labored. You hardly felt when Rhys patted back of your hand, undoubtedly trying to sooth you with words you didn't hear. The way to the garden where everyone was already waiting, was too long and too short at the same time. You focused on breathing, not wanting to faint, looking down all the time. Only when you stepped into the garden you raised your head.

The garden was full of flower and their intoxicating scent. All the guests were gathered around the aisle decorated with arcs of flowers in white and light pink colours, swaying in gentle breeze. Petals of white roses covered the ground, creating a path to a low stage. And there, on its end at the foot of steps, he waited, his back to you.

When music started to play, everything else went silent, all eyes turning to you. Tamlin slowly pivoted and looked up, his eyes meeting yours and at that moment time had stopped for you.

Tamlin was dressed in a deep green doublet with gold embroidery and buttons that highlighted colour of his eyes, and white breeches with long black boots. He'd combed his hair back into a half updo, golden strands shining in the sun. He was so beautiful you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

He seemed to be calmly waiting, but you knew better. His tense shoulders and hands clasped behind his back spoke of nervousness. A muscle clenched in his jaw, lips pressed together and the way he watched you gave off his uncertainty.

Tamlin mirrored you, his eyes roaming all over you, noticing every small detail. When he was done drinking you in, his gaze found yours and his lips curled into a small, shy smile. He forced himself to stay still and wait for you to come to him.

You couldn't wait any longer.

Rhysand had to firmly squeeze your arm, holding you next to him, reminding you to walk slowly otherwise you would run over that short distance that was separating you. As you were getting closer, he gradually relaxed and his smile grew bigger and confident with every your step. It felt like an eternity before you finally stopped in front of Tamlin.

"Take good care of my sister, please," your brother said, his voice suddenly hoarse with a rush of emotions.

"Don't worry. I won't take my eyes off her. She's my everything," Tamlin whispered, his eyes never leaving yours.

He offered you his arm and you gladly accepted, lightly squeezing it. High Lord of Night Court stepped back to his seat and then it was only the two of you.

"You are so beautiful," Tamlin breathed out.

You could have sworn you saw tears glistering in the corners of his eyes. You smiled happily.

"You also look extraordinary handsome, milord."

He laughed out. "Thank you," he whispered, but you knew it wasn't thanks for the compliment.

"I told you I will come."

"I know. Seeing you walking down that aisle toward me was something I'll cherish dearly and carry in my heart for the rest of my life."

You blushed fiercely. It was so hard to believe that this was real, that it was happening. It felt like dream and you wished you never woke up.

"Ready?" Tamlin tilted his head to the stage where smiling priestess in flowing white and blue gown was already waiting for you.

"Ready," you nodded.

Tamlin helped you up the two steps and you stood before the priestess who performed the ceremony. You only barely listened her words, your attention all trained on Tamlin, his eyes, his smile, the touch of his hands holding yours, every small move and change in his expression. This was the best moment of your life and you couldn't be more happy.

The tension rose as you said yes and priestess asked Tamlin to kiss his bride. You had butterflies in your stomach as he stepped closer and with the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen on his face, he leaned in. Your lips met and at that second stars exploded behind your closed eyelids. It wasn't passionate kiss nor any deep, yet it was the sweetest of all the kisses. His lips moved against yours, closing around them in soft embrace, gently pulling at them.

You would kiss forever if a sound of applause didn't bring you back to reality. You reluctantly pulled back. Tamlin followed after you, trapped in the sweetness of the moment. He rested his forehead against yours, trying to collect himself. Your gazes met and nodding you together turned to your guests who were still clapping.

You noticed Rhys in the first row wiping tears away. Next to him stood Mor smiling brightly at you and Cassian who as usual was the loudest one. On the opposite side across the aisle stood Lucien, elegant as ever. He smiled so widely that all his teeth were visible.

The rest of the guests were aristocracy and other significant fae of the Spring Court, a lot of unfamiliar faces. Your wedding was very important event symbolizing new beginning for the whole court. With the news of their High Lord repairing the estate, coming back to his duties and even preparing the wedding, a lot of fae who used to live here, had returned to their former homes. Everyone was curious who was the mysterious lady who brought their High Lord to his senses. Feyre made sure to destroy the Spring, leave it in ashes when she left, but now the life was finally slowly returning back and the Spring Court was ready to bloom anew.

With smiling Tamlin holding your hand you stepped down and your family, yes, even Lucien was now part of it, swept you both into train of hugs and congratulations full of tears and happy faces.

New future was waiting for you and you were eager to learn what it had in store for you. However this time, instead of walking down that path alone, you would walk with your love, your husband, side by side, together.

Life couldn't be any better.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania @talesofadragon @ceoofyearning @little-nightowl

[azrielsshadows42]

Tamlin: I don't want Feyre to die

Tamlin: You don't want Feyre to die

Tamlin: So now we need to make sure that Feyre doesn't make Feyre die

Lucien: Fantastic plan, but have you fucking met her?

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

Tamlin Core

[thefatesofspring]

Thought of the day:

It literally makes no sense that The Spring Court isn’t the most wealthy court in Prythian…

Not only does the court have the most to offer in trade in terms of food, it most likely develops the majority of fabrics in Prythian, not to mention herbs for medicines etc, then there’s wood exporting & possibly jewel mining. All of this most likely coming from just The Spring Court alone & then whatever overseas trade they do too…bruh The Spring Court is literally basking in riches!

This is why I’m adamant that Spring Court is the wealthiest court but is frugal with its spending, the high lords of Spring only spend when necessary.

The Spring Court is the very definition of a self sufficient court, it doesn’t really need anything from other courts & every return trade the do is really just an added luxury for them.

It also doesn’t make sense that The Night Court & Winter court are wealthy, by rights they should actually be the poorest of all the courts.

If I had to rank the courts in terms of wealth it would go like this:

1. The Spring Court

2. The Dawn Court

3. The Summer & The Autumn Court

4. The Day Court

5. The Night Court

6. The Winter Court

This is also why Sarah Janet Maas needs to spend so much more time on her world-building skills because we need more information on how the other courts operate their courts & gain their wealth

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Spring Fever

Tamlin x Reader - Smut - Angst - Fluff

After an outburst directed toward an unwanted visitor, a resident of Tamlin’s manor prepares to face the consequences of her actions but the High Lord has something else in mind.

warnings: smut, language

Moonlight and night air filtered through the edges of the pastel velvet curtains as the beat of my racing heart overtook the silence of my bedchamber. Seated at the edge of the large four-poster bed in my now permanent room, I took steadying breaths. In. Hold. Out. Hold. Repeat.

Who was I to have shown anything less than reverence to the High Lord of the Night Court? To his credit - in his own fucked up way - he���d tried to help Tam out of the stupor he’d spent years in but the male had been through so much already. How could the face of the mate of the love of his life bring any peace to his already broken soul?

These visits always ruined what small progress Tamlin had made. I tried to remain calm but damn it - Tamlin had finally stopped curling up outside of my door at night, on alert for any hidden threats. He’d given me a genuine smile on a stroll through the gardens just this morning. He’d even cooked this evening. Yes, a simple meal of roast venison and root vegetables, but a meal nevertheless. He was making progress and as if he sensed it, Rhysand showed up to “check in” on Tamlin right after dinner.

And just like that, Tamlin’s demeanor crumpled. I couldn’t take it anymore, the irreverence toward my mate’s own trauma. My temper rose to a point of no return, pouring out as spewed vitriol very unbecoming of a lady in the manor of a High Lord.

To his credit, Rhysand only eyed me with intrigue and didn’t mist me on the spot after I suggested he take his “good intentions” and shove them up his ass and showed him the door.

Tamlin only eyed me with an unreadable expression and requested that I stay behind while he escorted the Night Court’s High Lord from the estate.

Deciding against pressing my luck further I exited the foyer and saw myself to my chambers where I now sat waiting for the inevitable lecture, hell, maybe he’d kick me out. I only lived here out of his generosity. His tolerance of me certainly spurred on by the unaccepted mating bond that snapped when the magic chose me on Calanmai.

Two lonely souls bound together by fate.

We’d spent the past ten months living in companionable silence, both healing from the wounds our souls bore. And now, I’d likely torn down the careful progress we’d built brick-by-brick in one fell swoop.

The creak of my door withdrew me from my self-loathing retrospection and the quiet thud of boots crossing the wooden floors grew louder with each step in my direction. I didn’t look up. Couldn’t face him. Didn’t need to as the tension between us laid it all out clearly.

He’d never laid an ill-intentioned hand on me, we rarely even touched. Calanmai was a one-time thing. We’d brushed hands a time or two at the dinner table, he’d caught me as I stumbled in the garden once. I almost - almost - flinched as my High Lord’s hand came into my peripheral but all I was met with was a broad, gentle palm to the nape of my neck and the soft caress of a thumb running along my jaw line. I looked to him with furrowed brows, eyes lining with silver as I awaited whatever came next, but all I was met with were deep green eyes filled with anything but rage.

I averted my gaze as he fell to a knee in front of me. “Look at me, dove.” his typically gruff voice softer than I’d ever heard.

He waited patiently before I turned my head to look upon him once more. His eyes bore into mine, searing right into the depths of my soul. I could feel my heart hammering as his breaths grew rapid.

“You-“ he spoke, one large hand remained caressing my jaw as the other covered my own hands, folded in my lap. “You defended me.”

I puzzled. Was that a shock to him?

His emerald gaze flicked back and forth while remaining locked on my face, searching for an answer to an unspoken question. Why?

Withdrawing one of my hands from his grasp and resting it delicately upon his muscled chest, I replied definitively, “Because you’re mine.”

His breathing paused, rose lips pressing into a firm line. Processing. The silence between us pressing into me like a blade.

His voice cracked with his next words. “You want me?”

“I have since your eyes found mine on fire night.”

Before I could shift, or speak further, his lips were crashing into me like the violent swell of a storm falling upon rocky shores.

My lips gaped, breath hitching at his response, the desire I’d shoved deep within me pouring out at once as I opened for him, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, dancing along mine. A small, involuntary whimper escaped me as he lifted off of his knee, leaning over me as I slid back deeper onto the bed, careful not to let my lips leave his for even a moment - eliciting a groan from Tamlin.

My finger tangled into his long, blonde hair as he braced his weight over me with one arm, his other holding my hip, thumb running over the silk of my cherry blossom dress.

“You’re mine.” I rasped out in a hushed murmur between our shared breaths, pulling away just enough to look into the eyes of my mate again.

My chest heaved, breasts rising and falling with each gasp. I managed another whisper, “You’re mine, Tam.”

With those words, he lost any semblance of control. His fingers tugged my hair, exposing the column of my neck to him. His soft lips pressed heated kisses along my jawline, down to my neck, giving little nips and licks over the corresponding hurt as he went. “You’re mine.” He growled back, possessiveness overtaking his tone.

All I could manage was an “mmhmm” as he pulled the neckline of my dress down, exposing my breasts to him, his lips latched onto a peaked nipple and gods - the mouth on this male. As he licked and sucked on my breasts, jolts of electricity shot through me, straight to my core. I needed him lower and he knew it. His claws unsheathed, shredding through my dress and undergarments. I shivered as his stubble grazed my abdomen with each kiss tracking lower and lower. So close to where I needed him. My legs fell open in invitation, displaying the dripping need he elicited from me. His pupils blew wide as he took in the sight before him, realization of just how desperately I wanted him activating the most primal facets of the mating bond.

He pulled back, eyes boring into mine once more. “Say it, Y/N.”

My heart nearly shattered at the pleading expression of his features. This was real. My desire for him so tangible that he need only run a finger up my center to remind himself. But this was deeper than that, deeper than just want, deeper than mere lust.

“Tamlin.” I whispered.

“I’m yours. All of me.”

And I could have sworn the slightest hint of silver lined my mate’s thick lashes as he let loose that final reign of restraint.

His mouth latched onto my clit. A male starved. Starved for affection, starved for intimacy, starved for understanding, for love. But I saw him, all of him - and I wasn’t afraid.

His tongue laved against my core, moving with expert precision as he teased my most sensitive nerves, swirling around my clit before lowering to my entrance. He groaned like my essence was the sweetest nectar of any flora in his court and I couldn’t hold back the moans and praises spilling from my lips.

A thick finger plunged into me, curling so deliciously as he sucked my throbbing clit. He’d send me over the edge in no time. “Please.” I begged as the imminent release had me on the edge of a precipice.

I whimpered as he pulled back, the sharp angles of his chin and plush lips shining with the coat of my arousal. I could have come just from that sight alone. His deep voice sending chills through me as he commanded, “Say it, one more time baby. One more time, and then let go for me.”

His mouth returned to my core, latching back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves as two fingers now curled inside of me, his other hand tweaking a rosey nipple, “I’m yours. I’m yours. Oh gods, Tam. I’m only yours.” I chanted as release barreled through me. My sex pulsing around his fingers. His hips bucking into the bed in time with my orgasm, desperate for friction.

And I was greedy.

“Tamlin.” I spoke through heated breaths. “I need more.”

With a flick of his wrist, his clothes were gone. My jaw dropped when he rose to his knees before me, his erect length already beading with precum.

I licked my lips, raising myself to admire as he gave a few pumps to his heavy, aching cock. My mouth watering with the need to taste him.

He splayed a hand between my breasts, pushing me back into the mattress. “Time for that later. Need my baby coming on my cock.”

“Oh gods.” I moaned at the words, my core was an inferno with them at the realization that my mate needed to be in me just as badly as I needed to be filled by him.

And fill me he did. His head easily slid through my slick folds and I knew that length, and fuck, that girth, would hurt in the most pleasurable of ways.

“All of you.” I whimpered. “I need all of you. Now.”

With that he scooped me up, spreading my legs to straddle his hips. He braced his weight on his arms behind him, his muscles flexing with the shift, and crossing his legs, spreading my legs further across him.

“Take what you want.” He commanded.

And I realized then that he wanted me to set the pace, that he’d never risk hurting me. Especially since it had been so long since we’d been together.

I aligned his length to my entrance, locking my gaze onto him, admiring the planes of his gorgeous face before meeting the sea of emerald taking in each micro-expression of my own face.

“Yours.” I spoke boldly, and sank down each thick inch of his cock until I was seated to the hilt. The pleasure quickly overtaking any semblance of pain.

Chills spread through me at the loud growl of satisfaction he let out at the sensation of my cunt gripping all of him. I remained pressed down, gently swiveling my hips to adjust to his size, and pressing a hand to the slight bulge his length created in my belly.

“Fuck.” I whimpered. “You’re so- oh - you feel so…” my brain couldn’t formulate any words beyond that as another gasp escaped my lips as I rose up slowly and sank back down again, moaning in pleasure with each stroke of his length within me.

My arms wrapped around his shoulders as he shifted up, easing the weight off his arms and taking over, lifting my hips and sheathing me back down his cock, over and over, harder and harder, my heavy breasts bouncing in time with the pace. The sounds of my wetness gushing with each thrust was obscene. Removing one hand from my hip, he slid it between us and pressed his thumb to my clit. Within seconds I fell over the edge again, my face falling to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, incoherent babbles pouring from me, muffled by his neck.

“Gods” thrust. “You’re” thrust. “Divine.” He thrust my still fluttering pussy down onto him once more and let out a loud groan as he found his release, the pulsing of his cock as he spilled into me threatened to push me over the edge once more.

Our breathing evened out as he remained sheathed within me. I kept my face buried into his neck, refusing to let this moment of bliss end. My mate had yet to loosen his grasp on me, so we stayed like that, reveling in the feel of skin on skin for some time.

Finally I rose off of him, though he was hesitant to loosen his grip. “Stay with me tonight?” I asked hesitantly. Afraid he’d once again retreat to his chambers or to the hallway outside of my door.

Tamlin laid down pulling me onto his chest, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Every night.” He spoke into my hair.

“Every night.” I hummed in agreement.

——————————————————-

General ACOTAR list: @lilah-asteria

@tamlinweek - tagging you for Day 3 “mates” but not sure if it counts since I posted this on Sunday. This is my first of any “weeks” I’ve participated in 🥰

[taymartiart]

Day 3 of @tamlinweek

Flower Language

[andieburky]

Wedding crasher Rhys

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you”

[yourlittlebunnyy]

i miss my wife (he's a 500+ fae that everyone hate🌝 not me tho)

[ladydelena]

Can I just say, the fact that the high lords don’t all wear generic crowns in their colors, but it actually ties to their courts makes me happy?and they probably all have quite a few different themed ones?

Tamlin with his burnished gold laurel leaf crown at the wedding that was a courtly version of the calanmai crown he probably dawns each year? And his tithe crown is so suited to more strict moments with its representation of wealth and stability?

Tarquin with his silver cresting waves and blue gemstones for a casual night out on the town? As asymmetrically stunning as the very waters he connects his court to, the blues of the stones glinting with white and green and the depths of the very ocean hidden by the brash, crashing beauty created by the surface?

Helions spiked gold crown as vicious and pointed yet beautiful and picturesque as the suns rays? As warm in color as his skin yet simple and statement making in it power just like helion himself- not needing much adornment to radiate the strength, beauty and deadly power and wicked intelligence he holds?

Rhys has a raven feather crown which makes me wonder if previous highlords of night weren’t just serpentile like the creatures of the hewn city but dark winged and raven featured in some way? (And Feyres crown - complimentary to Rhys isn’t just a newly made item, it existed in tandem with his for previous ladies of night I’m assuming so it ties to the court that way as well?)

Autumn court with its mixture of Medieval English and conqueror era Spanish style in my head? With traditional red and green stones highlighted the most and silver and gold alike, crosses and points to their headwear? Very formal and structured, not just to denote their position, but to reinforce tradition, wealth, class structures, very inline with what I’d assume of the autumn courts viciousness mentioned in the books? Beautiful but vicious.

Winter court with near white shining metals, carved glass and crystal bases for ice diamonds; blue, gray, & frosty fogged stones? Dark blues and wicked gnarled features representing barren branches and shards of ice????

Dawn court with its sweeping elegance and love of beautiful embellishments and pension for color? The people are noted to be largely from Xian as noted by SJM and I always imagine dawn court to be a beautiful mix of Indian and Chinese culture, and the jewelry reflects it, beautifully Intrically carved warm toned metals that depict stories or symbolism entertwined with the culture? Stoned used abundantly yet they’re never garish? They only enhance and bring out the beauty of the crowns and reflect the cultures within the court itself?

(Like I’d love to dive deeper into it and maybe make or paint the crowns one day but that’s a different story)

That’s it that’s the post grammar be darned.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 1400+

Warnings: mentions of blood, depression, description of wound

In books there's no mention of Tamlin being able to winnow, but for the sake of story, let's pretend he can, okay?😉

Part II

You lived in a small cottage deep in the woods of Spring Court, far away from other fae. It wasn't like you hated them, they hated you. Most of the creatures living in this area avoided you, believing you had quite great powers and vicious nature, cursing anybody who crossed your way.

The rumours couldn't be further from the truth, but it didn't bother you what they said about you. You loved silence, enjoying every second of your lonely life in the heart of the nature.

You had several friends that used to stop by from time to time and brought you news, so you heard about everything that happened to your High Lord. You heard rumours about him going crazy, spending his days devastating his land in a form of horrific monster. You heard that fae ran away from this doomed Court. Last of your friends came to bid you farewell just few days ago trying to convince you to run away too. But why should you?

You lived alone, not caring about the outside world. You didn't care about what's happening out there, you didn't care about your High Lord nor the upcoming war. It had no meaning in your life. Feelings like hate, fear or love were just words with no particular meaning. And so the time passed slowly.

Fresh morning air brought smell of rain through the open window. Last night rained and the sound of raindrops on the roof of cottage lulled you to sleep. With bright smile you got up, changed and cleaned your room. Today it should be a nice sunny day. The intoxicating scent of flowers beckoned you out. Quickly you ran through your herb stocks and made a list of missing ones. You took small basket and went out to collect what you needed. Birds sang above your head as you bent down to tear off some chamomile flowers.

A roar thundered through the forest, making all birds fling away. You looked around with caution. Another roar shook the trees. And another. Now you knew where it was coming from. Quickly, but quietly you ran in that direction. It's in your nature to help to those who needed it. And this with no doubt sounded like somebody needed your help.

You ran up a hill ending in a cliff. And there down in a narrow valley on the other bank of small stream was lying the biggest beast you'd ever seen. Body of bear, head of wolf with antlers, his eyes were clenched in pain. On his side you could see deep wound, blood flowed in thin rivulets into the water. You didn't waste a second, climbed down and ran to its side. As you got closer, the beast opened its eyes and looked at you with a growl, showing off rows of sharp fangs. You halted and held up your hands.

"It's okay. You see? I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help you. Will you let me take a look?" you spoke to the beast in a soothing voice as you slowly step by step got closer. The beast growled again, but it put its head back on the ground. Green eyes never left yours, watching you with caution. Slowly you bent down. "Can I?" you gestured to the wound. It took few heartbeats, but the beast nodded slightly.

You knelt down between enormous paws, trying to ignore the dagger-like claws that could turn you into shreds of flesh in less than minute and examined the wound. It was so deep you could see its bones and even though it'd already begun to heal, it had to be treated. You bit down your lower lip. You needed to get the beast to your cottage, but it's too big and couldn't walk on its own in this state.

"It's quite deep. I need bandages and salve, but I don't have it all with me now. I'd need to go home. You are too big and heavy, so I can't take you with me.." you started to explain.

"Where?" a male's voice rasped.

"What?" you questioned, not sure if you really heard it.

The beast blinked. "Where?"the voice repeated with great effort. You lips parted in surprise.

"Well.. My cottage is about a kilometer to the north east from here."

"'Know the place," it breathed out. "Hold on to me."

You weren't so stupid to think, it's a real speaking beast. If nothing else, its eyes gave you enough hint. Of course, it's a high fae, a shape-shifter. And it seemed he could even winnow, so you did as he told you and took his paw with both of your hands. In a blink of an eye you were back in your cottage. Your head spun after the winnow, but you ignored it. Quickly you brought everything you could need and started to work on him. After few minutes the wound was bandaged and bleeding had stopped as well.

"I'm done," you announced. "It will take some time to completely heal. You can stay here until you will be able to move again." You wiped your hands clean while the beast just was laying, eyes narrowed, lost in his thoughts. He didn't seem to be in pain anymore. "Would you like something to drink?" you asked him gently, peeking on him.

His eyes concentrated on you once again, roaming around your face and then down your body. There was so much sadness in them. He just shook his head. "So I will let you take some rest," you nodded. "If you change your mind or it hurts you, tell me." The beast snorted and his eyes once again stared into the distance, returning to whatever he was thinking about before.

Several days passed since you found the wounded beast and brought him to your cottage. He didn't want to eat nor drink and that made you worry. He didn't speak, answering you only with small nods, his gaze was unfocused. He just lay on the floor where he winnowed to, like a lifeless object, stuffed animal. Even his wound was closing slower than it should.

You believed that everything had its time. If he wanted to talk about what bothered him, he would already say something. It wasn't your place to stick your nose into other's troubles. But still you were worried about him. You even heard him cry in his sleep last night.

Every day you checked on his wound, applied the salve and wrapped it into clean bandages and today wasn't different. Before, you let him be after tending the wound, but not today. He needed help and you were more than ready to offer your help even though he didn't ask for it.

You made him tea and set the bowl in front of him. It would be easier if he turned back into his normal form, but it couldn't be helped. Maybe he was too weak to do so. You sat down next to him and in silence ran your fingers through the fur on his shoulder. He sighed and closed eyes. You didn't talk, just continued to stroke his shoulder. After few minutes he dipped his tongue in the bowl and drank a bit. His sad green eyes turned to you, watching you carefully.

"You don't have to do this," he rasped.

"I know," you answered gently. He huffed. His eyes roamed around the room as if it was the first time he noticed.

"For vicious witch, you live quite peacefully. Silently I'd say." Now it's time for you to huff.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"Everyone runs from this doomed Court. Why don't you do so too? Aren't you scared of High Lord?" His voice sounded so empty, without any feelings.

"I don't care about what's happening out there," you answered evasively.

"Hmm," he hummed. "Did you hear about his fiancée and the best friend? They ran away from him too. He certainly must be a monster." He watched you out of the corner of his eye.

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I've never met him. I would prefer to make my own opinion on him."

"I see," he drank some more of the tea and then stayed silent. His eyes were again sad and unfocused and you didn't press him more. However you continued to caress his fur without thinking. Soon enough his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

He slept for the rest of the day. You checked on him before going to the bed, but he was still fast asleep curled up into a ball. That night he seemed to rest peacefully without any haunting dreams.

In the morning when you came down, he was gone.

[littlest-w01f]

Blooming Flowers

Pairing: Rhysand x Original Female Character

MAIN MASTERLIST

A betrothal, between the heir of Night Court and the youngest and only daughter of the Spring Court. It was a bargain made by the two High Lords, to make peace between the two ends of Prythian.

But it was not to be. A marriage couldn't fix what the two males would do to each other's families, not much could. Not if the so-called betrothed grew to despise each other, not if those two refused to marry.

Content Table:

Moodboard

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten (coming soon)

(all characters belong to SJM, the writer of the ACOTAR series, except for Evelyn, my original character)

(any images/gifs used in the series do not belong to me until stated otherwise)

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

How are you gonna sit there and tell me this isn't young Tamlin

[thefatesofspring]

Thought of the day:

I find it so funny how Rhysand essentially became an advisor & bed warmer to Amarantha for 50yrs but achieved NOTHING. Not a single god damn thing. No info on how to break the curse without someone dying, no allies, no secrets that he could use to blackmail her, literally nothing but this same male turns around & said Tamlin did nothing for 50yrs & sat on his ass…

This same Tamlin??…

In those 50yrs the only thing Rhysand achieved was countless bodies & more enemies, he murdered people from his own court, actively went after the Illyrians who sided with Amarantha even though they were doing exactly what he did.

It’s even funnier when you remember the fact that Velaris has been shielded for 5000 years, you can only leave or enter Velaris with the high lords say so, then on top of that Rhysand personally went round wiping the minds of everyone outside of Velaris who would know about the city of starlight, THEN…on top of that Rhysand added an additional shield with the last of his full power before Amarantha took it too permanently seal everyone in, this is the same male that claims his found family is oh so powerful, not to mention Amren single-handedly could wipe Amarantha from the face of existence when she still had her otherworldly form…

It’s even funnier when you remember that Tamlin had warned all of the high lords prior to them all going UTM not to go because she did not have good intentions, the male that would unfortunately know Amarantha the most & best told warned all of them about going…

[azrielsshadows42]

Everyday in Spring

Tamlin/Lucien: Don't do that, you'll get hurt!

Feyre: You can't tell me what to do!

Feyre: Now, if you'll excuse me...

Feyre: Tonight's terrible decision won't make itself

[tadpolesonalgae]

To Old Gods

Tamlin x reader

synopsis: you spend a clear, spring night under the pale moon with the High Lord of Spring, only you had not understood the intimacy he was inviting you to join him in, under a night where the veil thins, and things become slightly other

a/n: I realised as a writer, I am technically able to put my own spin on each character. I hope you enjoy this peaceful night journey, and would recommend reading this somewhere you can see the moon :)

Day 1 for @tamlinweek : Heir of Spring

music: Tamlin, by Faun

word count: 1k~

This is the High Lord of Spring you respect and worship—the one who leads the rituals and pays his dues to the old magic.

How he walks silently through the grassy fields, the blades allowed to grow tall and wild so they whisper against his legs as he walks bare-footed along the trail. With small twigs and wild berries woven throughout his regal hair, swaying free in the fresh spring breeze, he resembles a disciple of the old priestesses. Clothed in a thin pale robe, the dark marking are stark against his skin—soot-like dust clouding the rims of his eyes, streaking in three lines outward like scars, and as sharply drawn as talons. One set up over his brows, streaking back into the pale gold of his hair; the second set dripping a tear’s path over the sharp high of his cheekbones disappearing just above the point of his ears around his temples; the third pair cutting straight down from his dark emerald eyes, flowing down over the harsh cut of his jaw, over the strength of his neck, down to the tangle of swirls and symbols that branch across his partially bare chest.

Beneath the moonlight, solemn and stern, you can’t help the comparison that springs to mind—with how the gods were drawn long ago, etched on parchment, or carved into stone. Those same marking that are so frequently forgotten, a tradition sacred to the Spring Court, that the rest of Prythian, even fae-kind as a whole, seem to have either forgotten or discarded. But not here. Here, those carvings are remembered and preserved, worshipped and awed over.

It’s precious, an experience you treasure, being allowed the honour of watching over such a private ceremony. To be permitted near him on this night when he honours his past fathers, the bloodline that stretches and twines like a new stream that has yet to forge its own straight lines through the earth, so meanders and ambles.

How the moonlight spills across his robes, shining over the pale gold of his hair—sacred and holy. Beneath the silver light, you can make out the triskelion that’s been marked on his chest, partially concealed beneath the robes that have been arranged over his broad shoulders. The interlocking spirals stand out clearly, the familiar marking easy to recognise. Earth, water, and sky. Birth, life, and death. The patient cycle of life as it repeats quietly, relentlessly. Repeating persistently yet ever-evolving.

A star falls across the sky, and his green-gold eyes follow its path, attention unfaltering despite the will-o-wisps that glow and bumble about in the field, casting pale blue light about the place as they bob and swirl with the breeze. There are few clouds in the sky this night, meaning their distinct, calming glow is enhanced by the moonlight, practically shimmering beneath its cool-toned light.

He turns in the field, a slow shift of his torso as his gaze finds you effortlessly, features patient and somber, and you move as softly as you can manage, unaccustomed to being barefoot. Aware of the earth beneath your feet, how surprisingly bouncy it feels, like freshly tilled soil that sinks as you step upon it. You wade through the grass, pausing at his side as to not overstep—it is a privilege to even be witnessing this moment, let alone to be invited so close.

Initially you hadn’t understood the importance of the night. Had understood its significance, the value of paying respect to those who had come before, recognising he owed much to his fathers—but had failed to consider the personal ramifications of undergoing the ceremony. What it means, for him—he, who should never have become High Lord in the first place. To stand in the open fields and welcome the past spirits closer, the veil thinning between here and elsewhere. What that could mean for a person who has lost his family, to have this one night where they might once more be together, united on one plane.

Tamlin’s gold flecked eyes are quiet but clear, sharp and as aware as ever, refusing to cower from the night, insisting on being fully present to honour his line.

His gaze locks with yours, and in this brief moment they seem almost ancient, carrying a weight he’s never allowed you to see before. Perhaps one even he’s unaware of carrying, simply having taken over from his father without examining what was being passed onto him. The kind of burden he would be forced to hold upon his back. It’s gone as swiftly as it appeared, his expression patient but solemn as he watches you with an acute understanding that has the hairs on your forearms rising. Feeling bare in a way no amount of clothing could aid with, like he’s somehow able to look directly within you, to scoop up pure starlight from the pool of your soul.

He makes no effort to speak, and you have no inclination to disrupt the peace, so join him in his silence, sharing the whisper of the breeze between you, the swish of grass and the far off snap of twigs as they break beneath soft paws. Tamlin’s gaze returns back to the sky, and the will-o-wisps dance closer, near enough to cast light upon your own robes. Quiet and together, the two of you stand, side by side as you share in the sacred moment. Looking up into the bright, night sky, lit by shimmering starlight, swirling and wonderfully complex. Even in the darkest hours, it’s surprising how bright the world is.

Your heart falters a little when his broad palm extends toward you, and you find deep emerald eyes once again peering down at you, far older than the male before you. There’s a sincerity in the gold flecks of his gaze that has your mind quietening, understanding the request for company on a night as long and as tiring as this. Not tiring in the sense of physical exertion, but in the kind that sleeping poorly despite having rested for so long brings. In the kind of restless strain that grief offers, heavy and mournful, yet enlivened by the rebirth of Spring. A relentless awareness that persists tirelessly, but that has been put into a creature that requires sleep and recuperation to recover and continue.

Your fingers slide over the surprisingly rough skin of his hands, settling in his palm as you’re brought closer, stood directly beside him, beneath this long night.

A night of mourning, and longing. A night for wishes to be made, and relations to be resolved.

A night for past worries to be released, and new beginnings to take root.

A night for rebirth, the kind only Spring can offer.

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria

[taymartiart]

Day 1 of @tamlinweek

Heir of Spring

That time they both became High Lords at the same time ✨