#tamiln

[casualbuttercupblog]

ACOTAR ACTOR AU

This is all just silly little things I thought up, so don't take this too seriously. (This fandom is so viscous istg.)

Tamlin is actually very funny. His twitter is a lot like Misha Collins. He had a baby while filming and declared him heir to the Spring Court.

Cassian once brought 12 boiled eggs for lunch. The cast spent days teasing him over it.

Elain curses like a sailor. She once dropped her coffee on her shoes and traumatized Beron with the words that came out of her mouth.

Elain takes a lot of sneaky naps on set. The woman is always tired.

Eris has his own fashion line. Came out with special clothes during the release of A Court of Silver Flames.

Rhys once got canceled back in 2018 because he ate a Chic Fil A samwich.

Feyre and Rhys are married in real life.

Surprisingly, Nesta was the hardest to cast for. This is her first major feature.

Elain is actually the oldest of the actors. Followed by Feyre then Nesta.

Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie actually ended up getting along really well while filming. And you regularly see one of them cameo in another's movie.

Cas, Azriel, and Rhys have a prank war happening on set. Cassian almost got fired over this

Tamlin cut his hair after the filming of the first movie. Now the wig he wears is the itchiest thing imaginable.

Cassian has a blooper is during the first kiss with Nesta. Instead of kissing her, he leans into her ear and whipsers. "I'm Batman."

[polysjmweek]

Both of these are so well done we can't decide....

Which pairing do you prefer? Let us know in the tags and comments!

Which are you for?

Team Elain x Lucien x Azriel

Or

Team Elain x Lucien x Tamlin 👀

The NSFW versions are up on my Patreon 💖

[itsphoenix0724]

If it hasn’t been requested can you do Azriel with peony, perhaps a masquerade where he meets someone of another courts nobility (perhaps she’s been hidden away) the mating bond snaps and he goes on a quest to learn who she is?

Peony (Azriel x Reader)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.2k

❀° Event Masterlist ❀°

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for participating in my writing event! I'm really sorry it took so long to write I was very sick, but I hope everyone thinks it was worth the wait! I apologize if it's not the best it was written mostly in a fever-filled haze. Keep a look out for more stuff soon, and thank you all so much for your patience <3

You absolutely despised balls. Although, this was officially the first ball you’d actually been allowed to attend. You loved your court and your people wholeheartedly, but some of its traditions were ludicrously outdated. 

As tradition, you weren’t allowed into society until you were seventy-five. So until now, you had not been allowed at any court relations, balls, or celebrations. Being a Lady in the Spring Court wasn’t always the most exciting life. 

Applying one final coat of stain to your lips, you looked over yourself in the mirror. You had chosen a flowy gown in Spring’s signature pink, with falling petals cascading down the dress, and jewel-encrusted flowers had been woven through your hair. You hear a small rasping as you turn and look to see your brother standing in the doorway. 

“You look beautiful.” Tamlin steps into the room. He holds a small box in his hands and sends you a smile that you can see in the mirror. “It’s alright if you’re nervous.” You glare at your brother as he moves closer lifting a beautiful necklace out of the box in his hands. As Tamlin clasps the jewels around your neck, you move your hair out of the way. 

“I’m not nervous.” you admonish, Tamlin tips his head even though you can tell he doesn’t believe you.  The necklace is made of heavy pink sapphires, and you recognize it as one of the pieces from your mother's collection. You whip your head around at your brother who is still giving you a knowing look at your recollection. 

“She would’ve wanted you to have it, plus it matches your dress.” You laugh even though your eyes shine at the mention of your mother. Tamiln holds you at arm's length and looks over you once. “Be brave. Stay close to Luicen tonight. He’ll be here to pick you up shortly” He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and leaves the room. 

You secure the mask on your face and wait for Lucien to knock on your door. He arrives a few moments later dressed for the ball with a fox mask on his face and a matching grin on his lips. 

“Well, well, what do we have here? I truly believe I’m in the wrong room. The Lady of Spring is usually covered in mud and smells like a horse,” he looks around as if he’s lost and you can see him barely containing a laugh. Still, he offers you an arm and you take it, but not before smacking him on the shoulder. 

Lucien escorts you down to the ballroom and all of a sudden the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You catch sight of all the faelights in the room barely flickering for a second. Your companion doesn’t seem to sense anything, so you allow the courtier to continue to escort you into the ballroom. 

The first thing you notice is the sheer amount of people packed into the room. 

You’ve never been in a room with this many people before.

Lucien must notice the way your feet seem stuck to the floor. It’s almost like you’ve stepped into quicksand, the more you try to move forward the more you remain rooted to the floor. He waits patiently, rubbing soothing circles into the crook of your arm until you’re ready to advance further. 

“You can do this,” Lucien murmurs as you collect yourself before nodding and allowing him to lead you into the room. Two of the servants throw the doors into the ballroom open, and the sound hits you in the chest like a lightning strike. The notes of pianos and strings ricochet off of the opulent walls of the ballroom, and your heart matches the pace of the music. 

You want nothing more at that moment than to dance. 

Lucien, the good friend he is, senses your desire and takes you for a turn around the dance floor. Sweeping you into the thrall of the party, you and Lucien dance the night away. 

Although, you’ve had the most peculiar feeling all night. 

Something is watching you. Something is following you. You can sense it. A strange cold drift almost haunts you all night. It’s not a particularly bad thing. A tug on your wrist to avoid bumping into a waiter, an ever so slight lift of your skirts so you don’t trip on the dance floor, and a cool brush against the back of your neck when you get too hot. 

You think you can almost see it every once in a while, but all it is is a faint flickering of darkness that you chalk up to a trick of the candlelight. 

Eventually, you feel the flush start to creep up your cheeks and the heaving in your chest tells you that you need air before you collapse. You excuse yourself from Lucien and escape the ballroom to get some air outside. 

The strange feeling even seems to encourage this, almost tugging you into the starlit expanse of the gardens.

Away from the light, you can see it now, the dark tendril of smoke that’s been with you all night. It curls around your wrist like a snake and when you reach your other hand out to touch it leans into your touch like a cat. 

However, a moment later, it snaps away from you racing into the garden’s maze. 

You run after it, sprinting into the darkness to follow the shadow as it winds its way through the maze of hedges. It seems to have a clear destination in mind, never once stopping to consider a direction.

You’re out of breath and somewhere along the way you’ve abandoned your shoes to match the relentless pace, but you’re determined to see this through. 

It rounds one more corner when you see him standing in the maze’s center. 

When you crash into the middle his head snaps up to look at you. You’re panting, barefoot, and the bottom of your dress is completely caked with mud. You look after the shadow who curls around the man’s ear in a way that resembles whispering. From behind the black mask the male wears hazel eyes meet yours. Under the intensity of his gaze, you feel like you’ve been cornered by an apex predator. As the rest of the garden is blanketed in total darkness, more shadows rush around your feet. The male steps forward, heavy boots dragging on the gravel. They’re so at odds with the dress shoes the males of the Spring Court usually prefer. You’re entranced by the hand that reaches out to grab your own. 

He draws your hand to his lips and presses a warm kiss to the back of your knuckles. Heat rushes up the back of your spine, and that’s when you feel the golden thread snap into your soul. The male stumbles back from you, green-gold eyes widening in shock, as you feel a burst of shock from low in your chest. 

It is even more confusing when you realize the shock doesn’t even belong to you- it belongs to him. 

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, when you hear a call of your name followed by heavy footsteps. Just as Lucien and Tamlin round the corner to the center of the maze the male in front of you, your mate, has disappeared into the darkness. Dissolved like he wasn’t even standing there in the first place. 

“Sister! There you are,” Tamlin stands in front of you and grabs you by the shoulders shaking you back into your body. “Why are you out here? What happened to your dress? It's covered in mud!” He searches your eyes for an answer you’re in too much shock to give. 

“We found your shoes in the garden,” Lucien adds looking unimpressed at your bare feet. “I know you don’t quite have a grasp on ball etiquette yet, but running around barefoot usually isn't in the realm of appropriate.” 

“I was following a shadow! It led me here and there was a male-he disappeared right before you got here, and he-” You rub the place in your chest, the golden string still buzzing with life. The only proof that this wasn’t some figment of your imagination. Lucien and Tamlin exchange a look with each other before both of their heads turn to you. 

“Sister, there’s no one here. Perhaps you’ve caught a chill, or maybe all the excitement is overwhelming you. Let's get you to bed,” Tamlin loops your arm through his as he attempts to lead you back inside. 

“Tamlin, I am not crazy!” You plant your feet on the ground resisting the pull of your brother. 

“No”, Lucien adds holding up your shoes in one hand, “You’re just chasing shadows barefoot through the garden and talking to disappearing men.” Tamlin shoots Lucien a pointed look as he continues to lead you back to the manor. 

“Come on, we’re going inside.” with one final pull you follow your brother, knowing he won’t even listen to you until morning. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Azriel lands on the floor of Rhys’s office feeling like he’s been stabbed.

His shadows are going wild, writhing over every surface in the office screaming at him to go back to spring to get you. He doesn’t hear Rhys calling his name, doesn’t feel him until Rhys is on the floor in front of him shaking Azriel out of his daze. 

“Az, brother, are you alright? What happened in Spring?” It was supposed to be a routine visit, check to see what Tamlin was up to, and get back to the Night Court before dawn. His only rule was that he couldn’t be seen. He didn’t expect to find his mate in that garden.

He can’t even speak, the shock stealing away his voice as he reaches a hand out to Rhys collapsing the obsidian walls in his mind to let his brother in. 

“Rhys you have to help me find her.” His voice sounds grated. Something keeps tugging around his heart, pulling him back towards you. He doesn’t even know your name just that he needs to be near you again.

Rhys nods, looking over the memory again, trying to find any sort of clue as to who you were. Azriel tugs on the bond in his chest, trying to reassure himself that this was real.  

“I’ve seen that necklace somewhere before, let's check the library” Rhys helps his brother to his feet winnowing them into the winding library. “We’ll find her Az I promise.” He claps his brother on the shoulder as he begins his search. 

Rhys and Az spent the rest of the night pouring over tomes and tomes of jewels spanning across the entirety of Prythian. They found a mention of the necklace in the Summer Court, the entire court known for the beautiful gems it produces. They eventually found out it was a gift from Summer to be passed down to the Lady of Spring which only left them in more confusion. 

“Spring doesn’t have a Lady anymore.” Azriel’s frustration only grew. The longer he was away from you the more insane he felt. He always thought the myth about the need you felt for a mate was exaggerated, but now he knows it wasn’t a lie.  The only thing he can think of now is being near you again. 

Rhys wracks his brain for anything that could help his brother find his mate when he remembers his visits to Spring as a boy.

He recalls then, flashes of a girl hiding in the stairways of the Spring Manor, always trying to listen into the meetings between his father and Tamlin’s. He always saw you in the stables, tending gently to the horses. He assumed you were a child of one of the servants but what if…

“Azriel, I think there might be a Lady in the Spring Court.” He reaches out his hand to his brother to let him see the memories, and Azriel knows it’s you instantly, can feel the bond singing in his chest at the sight of you even in memory. “And I think I know where you can find her.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’re brushing the mane of your favorite horse, trying to ignore the call in your chest pulling you elsewhere, when you feel the brush of cold against your cheek. Your head snaps up, looking around you to find the source. You see the shadow coiling in the top corner of the barn before it shoots off again. Just like last time you play into its game of chase following the snaking path back into the maze. You keep up much better in your riding boots instead of your bare feet skidding on the gravel path. You find the male at the center again, this time both of you unmasked, taking each other in under the light of day. 

“Hi,” it’s the only thing you manage to choke out your soul begging to go to him. You suddenly feel insecure in your muddy boots and loose tunic, but the male is looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

He dips his head offering you a small smile. 

“Hello, my name is Azriel.”

[chyyy66]

And what happens if in the next ACOTAR book, the betrayal isn’t actually Mor like we all think

But Lucien …….. like what then ???

I was just thinking about when Elain asks Lucien “you betrayed us?” When he never did, it was Tamiln and Ianthe you sold them out to Hybern ….

So what if she wasn’t talking about Hybern ??? And she was actually seeing a vision … of Lucien betraying them later on ??

I love Lucien and I think he deserves the world.. but this was just so interesting to not share

[emmypotter7]

Im going to preface this post by saying: This is my opinion on why elain x azriel is better and more interesting than elain x lucien. If you disagree, scroll past.

1. We learn in the bonus chapter that Azriel loves Elain, and Elain cares for him in some romantic capacity as well.

2. In said bonus chapter, Azriel gets in a argument with Rhysand about this. Throughout the entire argument, he never focuses on his feelings. He strictly talks about Elain. Example: “Lucien will never be good enough for her.”

3. Azriel is very much a quiet but deadly character. He doesn’t tend to question authority. However, the first thing he says to Rhysand is, “What if the Cauldron was wrong?” He loves Elain so much that he will question God.

4. Mating isn’t as vital to a relationship as some readers may think. When confronting the King of Hybern, Feyre truly believes that he can break her and Rhysands mating bond, and she asks him to do so. She does this because the bond isn’t what matters, love is. We see this throughout the series when many different characters talk about mating bonds. Rhysand’s parents did not love each other. They tolerated each other due to the bond. The same statement also applies to Tamiln’s parents.

5. While Lucien cares about Elain, that care comes from a primal level. It has to do with lust, nothing more. Meanwhile, Azriel is not mated to Elain, yet he still shows ten times more care towards Elain.

[littlest-w01f]

TAMLIN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

All my Tamlin works and WIP (not in order of posting)

Calanmai (Tamlin x Gardener Reader) {smut}

Summary: Tamlin invites a gardener he has started to fancy to calanmai, Reader has her firsts

Trapped (Tamlin x Fawn Reader) {fluff}

Summary: While in his beast form, Tamiln came across a fawn in a bear trap

Monster (Tamlin x Reader) {smut}

Summary: Reader sees her mate Tamlin lose himself to magic for the first time during her first Calanmai

[samhatch]

A Healing Fic

I forgot I'd written this back in October! I think I'll pick it up again, but I wanted to post what I had. I started a healing fic for Tamlin that eventually ships TamLainCien.

It takes place long after the events of the books, when the dust has settled and Tamlin has spent an unknown amount of time in isolation.

Tamlin couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt at peace. Had it been years? Decades? Maybe even centuries? He’d lived a dozen lifetimes in the span of his single miserable existence, and each of those lifetimes had left him more broken and destitute than the last. He thought the Cauldron would finally see fit to put him out of his misery when Rhysand had come to gloat over him. The rage Tamlin displayed was only a mask, and he secretly prayed that the Illyrian bastard had brought with him merciful death to escort him to the Mother on his revolting leather wings.  But the Fates wouldn’t let him off so easily. Not without an heir to bequeath his suffering to. No, the Cauldron’s magick would make sure he stayed alive long enough to ensure the Spring Court’s lineage stayed intact. But he could never imagine giving the responsibility of High Lord to a child. Not when it had only ever brought Tamiln pain. So he resigned himself to never marry, to never sire an heir. Not that the opportunity would ever present itself again. Not after losing his greatest love to his greatest rival, and disgraced himself beyond redemption.

He’d loved Feyre. Every corner of his soul had swelled with love for her once. The night she shared her paintings with him, he swore he could feel his stone heart beat for the first time in decades. In that moment he knew they were kindred spirits. But she hated him now. It seemed the whole of Prythian hated him. And he hated himself. Afterall, if he was so universally despised by so many, it was impossible that every single one of them was wrong, wasn’t it? He found he agreed with them. He deserved this.

How many more lifetimes would he have to live out as High Lord of his broken court then, determined to defy death forever and never pass on his forsaken title to his never begotten son? At least until the magick of the Cauldron died and Prythian was no more. A hundred thousand lifetimes perhaps, if such an eventuality was even possible.

To make infinite existence bearable, Tamlin would remain a beast for the rest of eternity. It made quieting the dark thoughts easier. He didn’t have so many nightmares this way. As a beast, he could focus on his primal instincts: eat, sleep, hunt; and keep away from the darkness. The unfathomable chasms of despair he used to fall into. The last time he fell into those trenches of darkness, he was sure he’d never make it out. In his mind, he clawed at the walls of his self-made prison. Panicked and desperate for escape, he scratched at the walls until his claws snapped off his knuckles, his bloody fingers wore down to nubs, bones protruding from the digits as he desperately continued to climb his way out of that depression.

That was the last time he took high-fae shape. He couldn’t remember how long ago that was, or if it had been a metaphorical trench at all. Maybe it had been real, and he really did wear his fingers down to the bone. It felt real enough. And Cauldron curse him, it took all his strength to find his way out of it. 

But it wasn’t Feyre’s betrayal, or Rhysand’s sadistic pleasure, or even his own darkness that hurt him the most. It was the loss of Lucien. For every mistake Tamlin had made, every deed that earned him the hate he deserved, he could have lived with it all as long as he still had Lucien. But of course, he had to ruin that too. Everyone he ever loved was destined to be irreparably wounded by him in one way or another. It was only a matter of time before he hurt the one person who meant the most to him in all his life. Yes, he had loved Feyre. But what he’d felt for Lucien, what he’d shared with Lucien stretched far beyond that. A bond so deep, it surpassed what words could quantify. But Tamlin’s ability to destroy everything he loved knew no limits. A century of friendship undone in seconds.

So he retreated to the numbness of the beast, safe and away from the deep and complex emotions of the fae. 

There were no more high-fae or fair folk of any kind that lived in the spring lands. They’d all either abandoned their homes or died. The only faeries still left there were the elementals, non-corporeals, and the otherwise inanimate beings too dormant to be affected by the goings on of the seven courts. It was thanks to this that Tamiln could easily identify trespassers, and deal with them however he saw fit. Over the years, he’d built a reputation as the terrifying beast-lord of Spring. The legends and horror stories the other courts would whisper about him around the fires of their hearths would make anyone’s skin crawl. It was all nonsense, of course, but Tamlin was grateful for such a reputation. It kept outsiders away, and he wanted to be alone.

It was interesting, this contentedness to be alone. He’d spent so many years desperate for company, the loneliness festered in him like an open wound that refused to heal. He thought the raw ache would never dull, and he wept unending tears for the pain it caused him. But as time marched on, the loneliness became its own kind of company. Tamlin began to understand loneliness so profoundly, it became a sort of companion. He was nothing without his loneliness, and now he was loathed to be without it. Over time, he lost the need for speech, and for communion, and for connection. He was enough for himself, and it was better this way. Finally, he had achieved a type of peace.

So why, when he’d finally learned to be content with the way things were now, did he find fair folk sneaking into his forest? And not just any fair folk, but high-fae. He could tell by their scent they were no mere faeries. Hadn’t they heard the stories? Tamlin knew he’d lost all sense of time, but surely his legends weren’t so old that they’d been lost to antiquity? Or was it that no time had passed at all, and in fact his stories simply hadn’t reached the homeland of the young couple now wandering into his lands?

A young couple. Yes, a male and a female, Tamlin was sure. And he was sure they were in love, he could sense a mating bond between them. Spring was an odd choice for a honeymoon, he thought. Once upon a time, Spring had been a primary destination for lovers and mates to retreat to. It was a place for new beginnings, for sowing seeds. But that wasn't what Spring was now. Now, Spring was a place of neglect and shame, best avoided at all costs.

Before the scent of the mating bond could dredge up haunted memories, Tamiln sprinted towards them, the soft pads of his paws barely making a sound. He intended to ambush them, to frighten them off and show them how true his legends were. He crept carefully up to the tree line, hiding behind a wide oak tree until he was ready to pounce on them. But when he peered around the trunk of the tree, he saw something that shocked the breath from his lungs.

He recognized the male as he helped his mate climb over a fallen tree. But it couldn't be him, why would he have come here? And with that woman. 

He looked exactly how Tamlin had remembered. He wore Spring fashions, at least, the last time Spring had fashion. His green tunic was embroidered with gold brocade, cinched at the waist with a wide leather belt. Cotton trousers and worn leather boots seemed appropriate for their journey; they could only winnow so far. And his shimmering auburn hair was tied into a long braid that fell over his shoulder, the curls rebelliously sticking out of it between each plait. Tamlin wanted to run away before he was spotted. He wasn't ready to reunite with Lucien, to face his shame and see the hatred his friend must harbor for him still. How much had that hatred compounded over the years? But his face. Before running away, Tamlin wanted to see his face, just one last time. He waited for Lucien to turn around. 

“How much further until we reach the house, do you think?” Elaine asked. Her sweet voice rang through the forest like silver bells. Her cheerful curiosity was at odds with her surroundings, and it made Tamiln uneasy. She wore an airy muslin dress, and a light woolen jacket protected her from the damp forest. As she hopped down from the fallen tree trunk, Lucien caught her in his strong arms with practiced grace. It was like a dance they’d rehearsed a hundred times. Tamlin knew who she was, of course. But he couldn't seem to wrap his head around the bond. Mated. Lucien. To her. 

“It depends on how many wards are still up. It might be three miles if we’re lucky, but it could just as easily be ten,” Lucien answered her. 

His wards. Tamlin had to shift out of the beast in order to perform the magick that strengthened them. After so many years of isolation, he’d considered the exercise pointless. Between the stories of his viciousness, and the ruined state of the kingdom, no one dared intrude on Spring, protection magick or no. But now it seemed that his neglected wards had finally started to fall away. 

Was that why Lucien had come? Had the emissary arrived to inform Tamlin that the abandonment of his duties had reached a breaking point, and now the Spring Court had to be absorbed into one of the other six? As much as Tamlin hated being High Lord, he wouldn’t give up his home without a fight. He’d live up to those stories about his appetite for carnage if he had to. He’d even fight Lucien if it came down to it. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But when Lucien turned around, and Tamlin saw his shining face, all thoughts of defensive aggression melted away. And instead gave way to a horrid mix of emotions that pinched and stabbed at the pit of his stomach. Fear, guilt, and the ever present self-loathing began to race through him, hastening his heart and blurring the edges of his sight. He knew he should run away, every instinct was telling him to, but he couldn’t look away from Lucien. 

Tamlin studied his face, desperate to absorb any of the brilliance that shone from his radiant features. His cheeks blossomed rosy pink under his copper skin, flushed from the exercise of wandering through the woods. Beads of sweat began to form around his forehead, matting the loose auburn curls that fringed his face, and his right eye shone like amber under the canopy of trees. The left eye was still rippled thick with scars that tore apart his brow, mechanical eye clicking away, scanning for wards to determine the next leg of their journey.

That metal eye locked onto him for a split second, and Tamlin bolted silently through the woods. Panic shot through his veins as he ran faster than the wind, cursing himself for lingering too long.

“What is it, is there something there?” He could hear Elain’s voice still in the quiet forest. 

“I thought I saw… nevermind, it was probably nothing. Just the forest playing tricks,” he caught Lucien saying before he was out of earshot. 

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

Aahhh! Big sad!

[bunnyshideawayy]

just to cause drama i think for the next acotar book SJM should set up this huge love triangle between Lucian, Elain, and Az then Elain runs away to the spring court to get away where she either kills or falls in love with tamiln and becomes lady of the spring court while lucian and az are sent to get her back but end up falling in love with each other and decide to move to the continent together. the end. that would honestly be better than watching this fandom rip itself apart over ship wars!!

[nariko-senpai]

Genuine Question for the Acotar fans: Which pairing is more likely to sail, Azriel and Elain or Lucien and Elain?

I personally want Lucien and Elain to be together, but I think Azriel and Elain are more likely to happen just because of the chemistry they have throughout the series (but we all did think Tamiln and Feyre were a done deal, so idk) but then again, Lucien and Elain are mates.

Idk, what are your opinions, or what other pairings do you think are going to happen?

[velaris12]

I feel like this is an unpopular opinion but I kind of hate the theory of Elain and Tamiln actually being mates😭 Maybe if Tamlin experiences character growth I can get behind it… but I’d be happier seeing her with anyone but tamlin

[azsazz]

Hi , after consuming your bat babies work , I'm quite curious as who azriel , lucien , eris and Tamiln have kids with . Is it the cannon characters or did you incorporate your own ideas for their partners ? Regardless I love your stories ❤️

Honestly I just always put them with reader and try not to name drop anyone else if there’s like a cassian fic and azs kids are in it. If that makes sense? 😄

[rainbowdolphinrealm]

Last But Not Least Part 4

A/N:  Thank you for all the likes and kudos on the first three parts of this story.  I promise you can leave comments. I don’t bite, and it gives me an idea of what you all like reading and what you’re more meh about.  I know, I know, I’m supposed to write for me, but still.

Final question: Do you all want a spicy final chapter where Lucien and Elain consummate the bond or is that unnecessary?

************************************************************************

Lucien winnowed to the front steps of the River House and practically winnowed on top of Elain.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, clearly startled.

Lucien laughed as he dodged to miss her.  “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be waiting out front.”

Elain blushed a little.  “I’ve been a little anxious for your return,” she confessed.

“Please tell me you let yourself sleep,” he replied as he took her hand, pulled her closer and kissed her cheek.

“A little.”  She was wearing a flowing, Marigold dress with short, flowing sleeves to match the skirt’s movement.  She looked like a perfect transition from summer to fall.  Or maybe she was going for the golden sunshine of the Day Court.  Either way, she looked beautiful and her hair swept gently up on one side, pinned with a lapis lazuli comb, matched by her earrings and necklace made the whole look complete.  She turned and led him back into the house by the hand. “Are you hungry?”

Lucien smiled at how eager and comfortable she seemed with him now. “I saved my appetite to have breakfast with you.”

Elain looked back over her shoulder and smiled at him.  “Feyre, Rhys, Nyx, and Mor are eating too.  It won’t be a private breakfast.”

“That’s alright,” Lucien agreed with a shrug.  “Does Mor usually come for breakfast?”  He wasn’t entirely sure if she lived in the River House or maintained the old townhouse as her residence.

“Usually,” Elain replied.  “And sometimes Azriel comes for breakfast, but he usually eats with Cassian and Nesta at the House of Winds.”

“Hmm. . .” Lucien mused on that bit of information.

Elain quirked an eyebrow at him.  “What?”

Lucien shrugged again.  “Just wondering if Azriel will be breakfasting with Eris in Autumn now that Beron’s gone.”

Elain stopped short as they entered the dining room.  “Oh.  I suppose that might change things.”

“I’m still not sure if I’m going to need a new Spymaster,” Rhys said from the table, bouncing Nyx on one knee.

“I’m sure Az will find a way to serve both courts,” Feyre said confidently as she ate a piece of crispy bacon.

Lucien wasn’t so sure of that.  He knew from personal experience that it was hard to serve two masters.  Tamlin had made it easy to choose, though.  For the longest time Lucien thought Tamlin was like a true brother.  Time away, however, opened Lucien’s eyes and he was able to see how Tamlin was just as bad as his more contentious brothers had been, his abuse was just more subtle. He conditioned Lucien to think it was normal and acceptable to be treated with that level of disrespect. Lucien wondered if Tamiln would have treated him similarly if he’d known Lucien was Helion’s sole offspring instead of a mere seventh son.

“So you two are off to Day this morning?” Rhys asked as Lucien and Elain took their seats.

Lucien nodded.  “Mother would want me to deliver the news of her passing in person,” he said, the ache of her loss weighing on him.

“Are you going to tell him what he is to you?” Rhys continued.  “Or save that for another visit.”

Lucien sighed as he selected a pastry from the tray Elain passed him.  “I keep going back and forth on that,” he admitted.  “On one hand, I think I’d want to know if I had a son-”

“Agreed,” Rhys interjected, shifting Nyx a little bit on his lap..

“-but is that too much information all at once?” Lucien finished. He’d been having this debate with himself all night.  To be honest, he was a little afraid of telling Helion he was the male’s son.  What if Helion was disappointed that Lucien wasn’t a more impressive male - like Tamlin or Rhys or Tarquin.  Lucien didn’t think he exactly screamed heir of a High Lord.

“He’d want to know everything,” Mor said confidently before taking a swig from her juice glass.  “Trust me.”

Lucien knew that Helion and Mor were reasonably close - close enough that Mor probably knew what she was talking about.

“I think Mor’s right,” Elain said slowly, an unusual lilt to her voice.

Feyre raised an eyebrow.  “Have you seen something about it?” she asked.

Elain shook her head.  “No . . .but it’s a feeling.  A strong feeling.”

“Seeing isn’t always a vision,” Mor put in.  “Sometimes it’s just special knowledge or unexplainable intuition.”

Lucien looked at his mate and gave her a hopeful expression.  “You’re still willing to go with me?”

Elain smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.  “Yes,” she said simply.  “You’re mine and I’m yours.  We share our trials from here on out.  I’m happy to go to the Day Court with you.”

“Does this mean you ate the roast chicken last night?” Rhys asked Lucien slowly, an eyebrow raised in query.

Lucien grinned at Elain before turning back to Rhys and nodded.  “It was fantastic.”

Feyre’s grin was luminous.  “Oh I’m so happy for you!” she exclaimed.  “For both of you!”  Nyx squealed happily, echoing his mother’s enthusiasm.

“Are you excited to get an Uncle Lucien?” Rhys asked him, bouncing the baby a little more emphatically.

Lucien was caught off guard by that for a moment.  It was true.  Feyre was Elain’s sister.  Elain was already an aunt.  That meant he would be Nyx’s uncle when they got married.  He wondered if they could take the little guy out on occasion, let Lucien practice a bit before diving into parenthood himself.  He was so nervous about the prospect that it made his stomach twist into anxious knots.

“I don’t know if Uncle Lucien is ready,” Mor observed, gently chiding him with a grin.

Lucien chuckled at himself.  “Hey, uncles get to be playmates, right?  I think I can handle that.”

Elain beamed at him.  Apparently that had been an acceptable answer.

Rhys used the rest of breakfast to get an update on the Hewn City from Mor.  Lucien was grateful he didn’t need to go to that city as part of the Night Court.  Even though he knew now that the inner court’s nightmarish reputation was a facad, he still didn’t particularly like witnessing it.  It was too reminiscent of Amarantha’s court.  

He managed to supress his nerves about the Day Court enough to eat a couple of pastries, some fruit, and a hard-boiled egg.  

As they all began to adjourn for their days, Feyre hurried around the table and gave Lucien a tight hug. “I really am excited for you,” she said and then pulled Elain in for a tight embrace as well.  She turned back to Lucien.  “Do you want to keep your apartment in the city?  There’s plenty of space in the residential wing for you to have a room here.”

Lucien wasn’t entirely sure.  On one hand he was accustomed to living in the High Lord’s residence.  Living with his High Lord and High Lady seemed natural.  It would also let him be close to Elain.  On the other hand, maybe Elain wasn’t ready for that level of closeness yet.  She was excited about this level of courtship, but sleeping a few yards away from each other might be a little much.  “Let me consider it?” he asked his friend.

“Of course,” she promised with an affectionate smile.  “Take your time.”

“Feyre, I have a meeting with the palace governors,” Rhys said, bringing Nyx over to her.  “Do you have him?”

Feyre took Nyx slowly from Rhys, lookingstartled as if she just realized something. “I’m teaching a class this morning,” she said slowly as she turned to Elain.

“Oh dear,” Elain replied.  “I’m sorry, Feyre, I didn’t think.”

Feyre shook her head confidently.  “It’s fine,” she assured them all.  “I’ll put him in a sling and take him with me.  He likes to splash in the finger paints anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Elain asked, looking a little nervous, shifting her gaze from Feyre to Lucien.  “Maybe we could go this afternoon?” she suggested hopefully.

Lucien nodded.  “If that would make things easier,” he agreed.

“What would be easier is if my darling mate would let us get a caregiver for Nyx for occasions like this,” Rhys said as he made to leave the dining room.

“We’ve had this argument,” Feyre countered with a scowl.  “I’m not handing my baby off to a nanny.”

Rhys sauntered through the doorway with a parting shot.  “And we’ll keep having this debate until you give in or Nyx is old enough to look after himself.”

Elain grimaced a bit as Feyre stared daggers at the back of Rhys’s retreating head.  He laughed, clearly amused by whatever she’d said down their bond.  Lucien felt as awkward as Elain looked.

Mor strode forward and took Nyx out of Feyre’s arms.  “Don’t worry, Elain.  I’m free this morning.  I’ll watch him while Feyre goes to teach.”  She gently tossed him in the air, just above her head and he shrieked with laughter, his little wings flapping wildly, clearly trying to keep himself aloft.

“Is he ready to fly already?” Lucien asked in surprise.

“No,” Feyre replied with a grin at her son.  “Thank The Cauldron.  But Rhys says it’s instinctual for him to try if he’s free-falling like that.”

Lucien silently thanked The Mother than he and Elain might have to worry about their children winnowing all over Prythian, but they would never be toddlers learning to fly as well as learning to walk.  Elain gave him an expression that suggested she might be having a similar sentiment.

“Are you ready to go, then?” Lucien asked, holding out a hand to Elain.

Elain smiled and nodded, placing her hand in his.  “I’ve never been to the Day Court.  This will be exciting!”

Lucien chuckled.  “It’s certainly a beautiful court,” he assured her.

“Good luck you two,” Feyre said as they all made their way to the foyer.  “Should we expect you for dinner?”

Lucien had no idea how long the visit with Helion would take.  It could feasibly run overnight depending on how Helion took the news.  He exchanged a glance with Elain and then shook his head.  “Probably not,” he said.  “If we get back in time for dinner, I’ll take her out somewhere in the city.”

Feyre nodded as she pulled on a sweater at the front door.  “At the very least we’ll see you in Autumn for the celebration of your mother.”

“Yes,” Lucien agreed tightly.  The joy he felt at having Elain accept their bond was generally serving to override the crushing sorrow of losing his mother.  Every time it came up, though, it was like the wound was fresh and new again.

Elain squeezed his hand, and he also felt her extend herself down the mating bond to him.  It was like being hugged from the inside.

Feyre nodded and smiled sympathetically at him before turning her attention to Nyx, squirming in Mor’s arms.  “Be good for Auntie Mor,” she crooned to him with a smile and a wave.

Mor made Nyx wave back before Lucien, Elain, and Feyre headed out onto the front steps.

“Thanks for breakfast, Feyre,” Lucien said, thinking it was only polite since he’d sort of crashed their usual routine.

She laughed.  “Don’t think twice about it.  You’re family, Lucien.  Always have been.  You’re welcome to breakfast anytime.”

With that she gave them a wave and then winnowed away, presumably to her shop where she taught art classes a couple of times a week.

Elain smiled up at him.  “You ready?”

He nodded.  “Here we go.”  He took a deep breath and winnowed them both through the world to the outside of Helion’s palace in the Day Court.

As soon as they stepped onto the grounds, one of the Day Court guards came hustling towards them.  “Lord Lucien,” he said.  “We were not expecting you.”

Lucien nodded.  “I apologize for the surprise visit, but something’s happened Helion should know about as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” the guard agreed with a nod.  “I’ll send word ahead that you and . . .”

“Elain Archeron,” Lucien supplied.

The name was, of course, familiar to the guard, but he clearly didn’t have a face to put to the name.  His eyes widened a bit in awe and surprise.  “That you are both here,” he finished.

“Thank you,” Lucien said with a nod of thanks to the guard.  With that, he offered Elain his arm and he began to lead her up the front stairs into Helion’s palace.

“This is much more a palace, than I’ve seen in Prythian,” Elain whispered as they climbed the 100 or so steps to the main entrance of the palace.

Lucien smiled.  “Just like the Moonstone Palace gives amazing views of the night sky in the Night Court, the Day Court palace is built high above the surrounding area to provide unhinedered views all day long.

Elain smiled.  “How far can you see from one of those balconies?” she asked, nodding towards one of the balconies that overcooked the approach to the palace.

“Several miles,” Lucien explained.  “Especially on a clear day.”

Elain frowned.  “If this is the Day Court then are all days clear and perfect?”

Lucien smiled.  “You would think so,” he admitted, “but no.  They still need rain on occasion for their crops to grow.  Otherwise it would be a desert.  But on days when it does rain, it’s brief, and the day shines almost brighter after it’s through.”

“I’d like to see that,” Elain said wistfully.

“Lucien!  Elain! What brings you here so early?” Helion’s voice boomed down to them from the top of the steps.  Lucien knew Helion well enough to hear the tinge of worry in the High Lord’s voice.  Afterall, it wasn’t normal for Lucien to pay a diplomatic visit so early or without sending word ahead of his visit.  Helion was clad in his usual Day Court attire, trimmed with gold fabric, but he seemed to have forgone the High Lord’s crown.

“Good morning, Helion,” Lucien said as they reached the top.  “I come with sad news.”

Helion’s expression turned dark.  “Sad?  What has happened?”

Lucien took a nervous breath in.  “Maybe we should discuss this in private,” and his eyes flicked to the guards on either side of the palace entrance.

Helion clearly understood Lucien’s meaning and nodded.  “Come,” he encouraged, and motioned for them to follow.  “We’ll go to my living quarters.”

“Are you doing anything special for the Equinox?” Lucien asked casually as they made their way to the back of the palace where Helion’s private residence was located.  Lucien had dined in the informal dining room with Helion on occasion while serving as an Emissary for Tamlin and knew the more intimate setting was a better place to break the news about his mother to Helion.

“We’ll have a feast,” Helion replied and then turned to Elain.  “It may be Autumn’s special holiday, but we have the better gourds to serve.”

Lucien chuckled.  “It’s true,” he admitted to Elain behind him.  “You need a good summer to grow the best gourds and Autumn just doesn’t have that.”

Elain smiled.  “We had gourds south of the wall sometimes,” she recalled.  “But I’m sure they are so much better here.”

Helion smiled appreciatviely at her as he opened a set of double doors and led them into a large sitting room.  Lucien strode to the center of the seating area, gripping Elain firmly.  He realized it might have been too tight and released her just a little.  She squeezed his hand, though, reassuring him that she was there for him.  He had no idea how he would have done things without her.

“What’s the trouble, Lucien,” Helion asked in his more natural, less theatric tone. He strode to a small wetbar near the room’s big picture window and held up a container of what was probably bourbon.

Lucien considered the offer.  “Not . . .not at the moment,” he stuttered a little.

Helion put the glass container back down and frowned at Lucien.  “I’ve never seen you so . . .unhinged.  Tell me what’s happened.”

Lucien looked down at Elain for reassurance again.  She gave him a soft smile and nodded.  He took a deep breath and turned back to his father.  “My mother,” he said slowly.  “Beron killed her yesterday.”

Rage filled Helion’s eyes.  “He what?”  His voice was deathly calm, but Lucien had no doubt his blood was boiling and his power straining to be let loose.

“He finally beat her so bad it couldn’t be healed,” Lucien explained, trying in vain to will his voice to be steady.  “My brothers and I avenged her yesterday afternoon.  Eris is now the High Lord.”

Elain clasped her other hand around Lucien’s as well.

Helion was silent for a long moment.  “Why did you feel the need to come and tell me?” he finally asked.

“Because . . .” Lucien started and then shut his eyes in a frustrated grimmace.  “Because of what my mother told me before she died.”

Helion raised a single eyebrow in query.

Lucien sighed and continued.  “She said that you and her were in love, that’d you’d been able to see each other occasionally while she was married to Beron.”

“That’s true,” Helion replied slowly with an equally slow nod.

“She wanted me to know because she wanted me to tell you that she loved you and that . . .”  He stole another glance at Elain.  Her steadfast strength was keeping him going.  “That she bore you a son.  She couldn’t tell you out of fear, but she couldn’t take the secret with her to the next life.”

Helion blinked once then stared intensely at Lucien.  Then he blinked several times rapidly as if realization was dawning on him.  “You . . .”

Lucien nodded.  “I am your offspring,” he confirmed and for the first time, Lucien took a good look at Helion compared to himself.  It was true that Lucien had always been darker than his brothers in skintone and now that he had something to compare it to, he realized he was of Helion’s coloring.  There were definitely similarities in their faces as well.

“I . . .” Helion started, but he seemed to be just as lost for words as Lucien had been the previous day.  He stepped to one of the couches and collapsed.  “I beg your patience, Lucien,” he said.  “But in the last 30 seconds you’ve told me that the woman I’ve loved for five centuries was killed by a male I’ve been tempted to have assissinated more times than I can count and that I am a father.  That I am your father.”

“Take all the time you need,” Lucien assured him, taking a seat on the sofa opposite him.

“Would you like me to pour you a drink?” Elain offered.

Helion looked up at her and smiled gratefully.  “You are the kindest . . yes, please.”

“Lucien?” she asked as she made her way over to the wet bar.

Lucien took a deep breath and nodded.  “Maybe I’d better.”  He realized that aside from their wine at dinner the night before, he’d gone through all these revelations without a single drink to dull the shock.

She nodded and started pouring them both a measure into high-ball glasses.  She brought them over and handed one to each of them.

“Thank you, my love,” Lucien said automatically as he took it from her.  He didn’t even think if she was okay with the affectionate reference.  He didn’t stop to think how that might have broken Helion’s heart even further.

Elain smiled at him and nodded before resuming her seat next to him.

Helion seemed to be staring off into space, looking between the two of them instead of at either of them.  After a long while he finally spoke.  “I take it you two have accepted the mating bond?” he asked.

Lucien took Elain’s hand, squeezed it, and nodded to Helion.  “She made me a roast chicken last night.”

“Roast chicken?” Helion asked with surprise in his voice.  “Deceptively simple.”

“Well Feyre gave Rhys soup,” Elain said, blushing a little.  “I didn’t want to do something similar like stew, and Feyre did tell me that Lucien always ate hearty when roast chicken was on the menu.”

Helion smiled at that and let silence fall again.

Lucien took a slow swig of his drink, nervous about what Helion might say next.  Should they leave and let him grieve in peace?

“Will there be a Celebration of her life?” Helion finally asked.

“Yes,” Lucien replied.  “I’m sure that as a High Lord you would be justified in attending.  Eris certainly won’t mind.”

“The two of you are getting along better these days?”

Lucien chuckled.  “Yes.  He actually helped me get to Spring all those years ago.  Without putting himself or our mother in additional danger, he did right by me.  I support him as High Lord of Autumn.”

Helion nodded slowly.  “So will you be returning to the Autumn Court as one of your brother’s advisors?”

Lucien resisted the urge to frown in disappointment.  Until that moment, he hadn’t realized he was hoping for an invitation to call the Day Court home.  He wasn’t sure what Helion was thinking, though, and he didn’t want to give away too much of his own feelings, so he put on his emissary mask before answering. “No,” he said.  “That honestly hadn’t occurred to me. Eris has Azriel and Gerod and other loyal advisors.  He doesn’t need me in his court.”

“Prefer to stay in the Night Court?” Helion guessed.  “Especially with your mate the sister of the High Lady . . .”

“As the High Lady, and a new mother, my sister’s time is generally spoken for,” Elain said before Lucien could answer.  “She, Nesta, and I are all off onto the next chapters of our individual lives, wherever that might take us.  My life will be wherever Lucien’s is.”

Helion smirked at her.  “You’ve got yourself a savvy mate, Lucien.  Of course you make a great match.”

Lucien used every ounce of training and control not to look surprised or confused.  “She is something,” he agreed vaguely and amicably.

Helion laughed.  “Stop worrying,” he said.  “You, of course, are welcome to make the Day Court your home.  In fact, I would be honored to acknowledge you as my son and heir as soon as you’re ready.”

“You would?” Lucien asked, unable to hide his surprise any longer.

Helion put his drink down as he got up from his couch and strode over to them.  He offered a hand out to Lucien.  Lucien handed his drink to Elain and then took Helion’s hand.  The male pulled him up and enveloped Lucien in a tight embrace.  “Of course I would,” he asserted.  “You’re smart, battle-tested, a courtier’s courtier, kind and compassionate  . . .” Helion looked around Lucien to Elain.  “Have I missed anything?”

Lucien turned to see Elain smiling as she got to her feet.  “I think you hit the high points,” she agreed.

“My only regret, Lucien, is that I’ve found out you’re my son now, when you’re a grown adult, without much need for a father.  I take that back, I have another regret, that you were so mistreated by Beron as a boy and a young male.  You deserved better than that.”  Helion’s frown was deep and sincere.

Lucien had never been wanted by Beron, but Helion, who’d only known Lucien was his son for a handful of minutes not only wanted him, was upset that he missed Lucien’s youth, and was ready to make him his heir.  This sudden change of circumstance threw Lucien for a loop.  “I . . .I don’t know what to say,” he finally stammered, dropping the mask since it was clearly not needed.

Helion shook his head.  “Don’t say anything right this second.  Stay here for a few days.  See the Day Court through different eyes, not as an emissary, but as one who stands to inherit what you see.  Show Elain around,” and he turned to her directly.  “I hear you are a connoisseur of gardens?  You will love the garden in the back of the palace, I guarantee it.”

Elain grinned and gave Lucien an encouraging nod.

“We didn’t bring any change . . .” Lucien started.

“Not to worry,” Helion assured him.  “The nice thing about Day Court fashion is that is almost once size fits all for the men.  I’m sure we can get you some lovely things very quickly,” he added to Elain.

Lucien looked from his mate to his father and back again.  “If it’s really alright, I think I would like to stay for a little while,” he admitted.

Helion pulled him into another hug.  “Son, you’re home as far as I’m concerned.  Tomorrow we’ll go to the Autumn Court and we’ll grieve your mother together, but tonight we should celebrate this new family we’ve become! Your mother would haved wanted that.”

Lucien, despite himself, felt himself breaking into relieved laughter.  “I agree.”

So Helion began calling in servants, a valet for Lucien and a maid for Elain.  He ordered that rooms be prepared for them and that their every wish satisfied.  In the meantime, Helion would call his advisors together to tell them the good news.  They could stop trying to push him into a marriage just to produce an heir because he already had one.

As Lucien watched Elain’s maid herd her into her bedroom to be measured for clothes, he could see that she was smiling just as widely as he was.  Maybe this was going to be perfect for both of them.  After all, here she wasn’t Feyre’s sister.  She could be a woman of influence in her own right.  Yes, he had to agree with his father, he was tempted to say that he was finally home.

[szalonykasztan00]

Papa Archeron's story??

First of all, I have a question:

Does Papa Archeron see to anyone else like the ACOTAR version of the finance bro?

That is sooooo rich but the moment he lost some money he starts panicking and making stupid decisions and then live/die in obscurity?

That kinda guy?

I saw the post discussing the ✨speed ✨ of the Archeron family losing everything. That got me wondering and creating my theory. There were many awesome ones in comments and reblogs (I will link the thread at the bottom for y'all to read and give credit to everyone involved). Now to the main part of my post:

Warning it will contain spoilers for the book "The doll" by Boleslaw Prus

If you want to read the XIX-century polish social and moral novel please skip this post. (I don't recement, the internal monologues of EVERY character are fucking irritating and more cringing than the most cringing thoughts Ferye have in all 3,5 books.)

So my theory is that Papa Archeron was like the main character of The Doll - Stanislaw Wokulski. Mrs Wokulski was a nobleman but his family lost all land and fortune long before he was born and because of that no one from the rest of the nobility remembers that he was, in fact, a noble. When he was young he marries an old merchant's widow, for which he work, to get money, a business and a house. She die because she wanted to be pretty for her young trophy husband. And now Wokulski is ✨rich✨. Then he goes to make some good business decisions and more money (it took him a couple of years). Now he is ✨super rich✨. But all the nobles think he is not noble and rich ☹ just rich and they don't like him, belittle him (not openly of course) and don't let him for the "salons". So he diced to marry a young aristocrat from a falling house name Izabela Łęcka. At that point, he is like 45 and Isabela is like 25. She plays with his desire for that marriage for some time. During that time he buys out her family from falling (more or less). Then he learns English for her (at that time it was a cool thing for young and rich aristocrats to do) and learns from overhearing a conversation she had with some other suitor that she thinks he sucks. That kicks him to leave the girl alone.

Now to put it to Papa Archeron. His family were nobles but lost money and were forgotten when Papa was born. Since mortal realms in ACOTAR are basically like Africa (after thousand in the ACOTAR, hundreds in our world YEARS of slavery), they have to figure themselves out on the new. That usually means bad economics, wars etc. it's not hard to believe that this situation + politics, religions or others means whatever money they have just ✨puff✨ gone. He (20) marries the old merchant's widow for business. She dies. He tries to live and do business but fails due to other nobles. He (25) goes to make more money (lucky for me, others may think it's a talent). Make friends and contacts. Comes back (30). They still don't like him. He contacts Scythia's friends that tell him about mama Archeron (20). They meet, fall in love?, and marry for her status (he (33) gives his now family an absurd amount of money – he is now not ✨super rich✨ just ✨rich✨). They come back to Prythian. They (+/- 22 and +/- 35) have Nesta then the rest. He makes BAD investments for some time (30 - ….) and his other business fall due to what is happening in mortal's realms. They try to keep it up for a few more years. They keep the appearance good enough for the duke. But there come the final bad investments and the fall begins. He is now +/- 44. His wife dies (+/- 36). Then they move to the hut (Papa Archeron's childhood home).

That makes him at the beginning of the first book +/- 60. He is old, with a broken and will never fully heal leg and (my private head cannon, which I got since first reading) probably have dementia (that's why he is better after Tamiln messed with his memories – he got accidentally healed from that).

That doesn't excuse him in any way, shape or form. It's just theory.

If there is evidence in the canon that proves or disproves my theory, please don't hesitate to let me know. Link Check the reblogs and comments.

[thecloudybookshelf]

A Curse for True Love by Stephaine Garber

"Happily ever afters were notoriously boring. They did not make for very good stories"

This series will haunt me for the rest of my life. 

Stephanie really played us like Tamiln plays his fiddle with how "The Ballad of Never After" ended, but she redeemed herself with "A Curse for True Love," albeit it took a while. This book was DEVASTATING. Having to experience Evangeline navigating the Magnificant North and court politics (Apollo :l) without her memories was maddening. But what was worse was having Evangeline meet Jacks again, feeling their bond despite not knowing him or their history. IT WAS TORTURE reading the interactions between Jacks and Evangeline, knowing how absolutely in love he is with her and how much she loves him too (BUT DOESN'T REMEMBER). As Taylor Swift said, "hell was the journey, but it brought me heaven." Because we got a HAPPY ENDING!!!! Honestly, I was happier that Apollo d*ed than Evenagline and Jacks getting together because he officially is the worst character ever. I literally wanted to strangle him throughout the entire book. 

This book is beautiful. Everything from Stephanie's prose to the characters and love story is just stunning. I am absolutely obsessed with Stephanie's way of writing Evangeline. She is such a whimsically romantic character, and her view of the world surrounding her reflects that. Evangeline's descriptions of the world are just so fantastical and completely out of a fairytale. The description that stood out to me the most was "as if the world were a cake and the snow was dollops of thick white frosting." UGH, so beautiful and unique! Evangeline remains one of my favorite female protagonists because she isn't afraid to stay true to herself and follow her heart. She is soft and feminine and sometimes a little naive while also being clever, strong, and funny. Evangeline is a badass in her own right and entirely relatable: "Hoping and imagining and believing in magic had always been like breathing to Evangeline." I just adore her. I have far too much to say about Jacks. He is a top 3 book boyfriend for me, and I just am so in love with him. Jacks was just absolutely devastating in this book and even though Stephanie gave us a happy ending, I will never forgive her for making Jacks cry multiple times. He is pookiebear. 

I cannot wait for what comes next from Stephanie, especially since "other stories were brewing in the Magnecifant North." Hopefully, Lala and Choas (I really like their short moments together). 

"the star-crossed lovers, who were star-crossed no more," and thank the freaking gods for that.

[rarulmca]

கோட் 7வது நாள் வசூல் லாபமா? நஷ்டமா? GOAT 7th Day Collection India TamilN...

[nunnurai-tamil]

இஸ்ரேல் செய்றது தப்பு அதுக்கு ஹவுதி வச்ச ஆப்பு World News Tamil #TamilN...