#the golden book of faerie

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Sometimes You Grow Into Your Books

I was objectively too young when I picked up this book at like, ten or eleven, having just read Terri Windling and Ellen Steiber's The Raven Queen and wanting more faeries with some edge to them, and read my way through four novels about magic and fairies in Canada and Ireland. On that first read, solidly 80% of it went straight over my head, and I couldn't figure out why. (Reader, the reason is because I was a tiny human who was still at a middle grade level and this book is pretty firmly YA but literally nobody ever told me no where books were concerned--and thank you to everyone who supported my reading from a young age!) That said, there was something about the book that wouldn't stop worrying at the back of my mind, so over the next three years, I kept reading and rereading, and slowly the stories took shape in my head and I learned why the books stayed with me. I spent a long time with this book, so let's talk The Golden Book of Faerie.

This is a spoilery post, so be aware if this book is for some reason on your TBR!

A word I didn't know when I decided I wanted to read this book is omnibus, but that's what this book is--an omnibus edition of four OR Melling novels.

The Hunter's Moon is the first of the four books, and it really sets up the complex relationship between family and faerie that will permeate the rest of the books. It follows Gwen and Findabhair's (fin-ah-veer's) reunion in Ireland after a while apart, and Findabhair's entanglement with Finvarra, a faerie king. Finvarra either falls in love with/selects for the Hunter's Moon sacrifice Findabhair, and Findabhair decides she is in love enough to go through with it. Gwen basically decides that no, this is not acceptable, and finds help fron Dara, cute guy and folkloric king of Ireland; Granny (Grania Harte, not Granny Weatherwax) who is a fairy doctress; Katie Quirke, who is a farmer with big dreams; and Mattie O'Shea, a middle-aged Managing Director of a firm who is also a married new dad. I would be absolutely remiss to point out the resemblances to Lord of the Rings here, because Gwen quite literally pulls together a fellowship to try to save Findabhair and faerie.

The fellowship faces down Crom Cruac, the Great Worm. It...does not go great. I wasn't kidding when I made the LotR comparison, there is no great, glorious, heroic battle at the climax of this book. They are overpowered and beaten to a pulp, and Findabhair gets Laterose-ed into the ground, and suddenly the company's reason for fighting lies dying. Finvarra chooses a heroic sacrifice, and the rest of the company takes itself home to recover. A year and a day later, the Company of Seven gather again to mark to day, and Finvarra--a notably human Finvarra--returns.

The overarching mood of this story is of how love and grief intertwine, and it is really truly well done.

The Summer King shifts protagonists to focus on Laurel and Honor Blackburn, a pair of twin sisters violently separated by what seems, on the surface, to be a hang-glider accident. We find later that it was, in truth, a faery attack, but for the long year between Honor's death and Laurel's introduction to Faery, all Laurel knows is that her sister is dead. And the kicker for the family--although this is implied rather than stated explicitly on page--is that they didn't even have a body to bury because Honor crashed into water, and the glider took her too far down to be recovered.

Along for the ride with Laurel is Ian Gray, troubled young pastor's son and the new--and EXTREMELY reluctant--Summer King. He and Ian more share a body and mind than are the same person, so poor Ian is fighting a massive battle and Laurel is still so wounded by Honor's death. The pair bond a bit on Grace O'Malley's ship, and even when it is revealed that Honor was a casualty of the Summer King's violence, Laurel and Ian still work together to light the midsummer pyre and keep the human and faerie worlds together.

Dead is dead in the human world still, so Honor cannot return to her life. But thanks to Laurel, she can live on in Faerie. And Laurel also grows enough to pull Ian back from the edge as well.

So as the eldest of three girls, literally the worst thing I can imagine is losing a sister, so this book made me SOB. But the compassion required for forgiveness and healing stuck, and the book expands the theme of the intertwining of love and grief while giving it some nuance and complexity by weaving in compassion and forgiveness.

The Light-Bearer's Daughter is possibly the closest thing to a traditional "fairy tale" in this book, because Dana is all of eleven in this book, far younger than the teen protagonists of the last two. That is why when Dana stumbles ass-backwards into the woods and is handed a mission by the Summer Queen--none other than Honor Blackburn, for those of you playing along at home--she ends up terrifying her single dad by bailing on him right before a move from Ireland to Toronto to complete her mission.

This book is very much a fairy tale because it's Dana learning, growing, getting square with the fae mother who left her and her father, and then accepting the move to Canada. This is possibly my least favorite of the three novels, but it's important background for Dana for the next book.

The Book of Dreams takes Dana as its protagonist again, but now she is a troubled thirteen who has not adjusted to life in Toronto. It also weaves in the major players from the three previous books, because whether Dana is ready or not, something big enough to threaten the existence of faerie is coming, and Laurel and Gwen need to make sure that this teenager survives to battle this.

The best part of this book is how the mythology and lore expands. We get the Irish/English faerie lore that we've been accustomed to in three previous books, but thanks to the multiculturalness of Toronto, we also get First Nations and Indian (that's as in India, not as in Native American) lore as well, and the three work together beautifully. This was the first time I had ever seen Irish and North American Indigenous mythologies together, but CE Murphy does a version of it in the Walker Papers, and these two seem to work together really well.

I also love the way the different threads of this book weave together, although we are never free of the balance between love and grief and the costs of having a foot in both the mortal and faerie worlds.

Overall, despite being objectively too young for this book when I first picked it up, it was foundational in shaping what I prefer in faerie stories (and actually probably explains part of why how the fae in the Dresden Files are handled pisses me off) and it really helped show me that there was nothing that was too hard for me to read. It might take spending some time with a text and rereading and reflection to parse my responses, but this book really was my first experience with a challenging text that I had to work to really get through, understand, and appreciate.

It's the combination of the lesson on how to approach challenging texts and the vibes that I learned to appreciate that really made this book stick with me, and I adore The Hunter's Moon unreasonably.

[thesparkthatlightsthemoe]

There is a fae series I picked up that’s all compiled into one book, called, “The Golden Book of Faerie” by O.R. Melling.

So far I’ve read “The Hunter’s Moon”, the first volume within the compilation, and it was like an adventure on crack. Well researched by someone with a love for Ireland, but just...so random and crazy lol. Yet some scenes are so breathtakingly fanciful. I don’t know how to feel about it other than that it’s definitely a mood. When I want something weird where I don’t care if anyone lives or dies, I’ll choose this.

[neopets-ps2]

BOOKS! part 1

as i replay the game i've been trying to screenshot and save every book i can find so i can post them all, here's the first set!

part 2

[no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist]

Just saw someone on booktok call Orion a book boyfriend. I am going to commit unspeakable acts of violence.

[fuctacles]

<< 3 | 4 | 5>>

The storm comes to a head late at night in the form of knocking at his front door. It's muffled, but the space is small enough for him to hear. Confused, he closes his book to have a peek at his porch. He doesn't see anyone, but the weird knocking continues, followed by scratching. That eases his worries immediately and he opens up the door without much thought. Sure enough, his dog friend is sitting on the porch.

"What are you doing here this late?" Eddie asks, looking around as if the owner could show up out of the darkness with pitchforks and accusations. He moves to the side. "Come in, I don't think Steve wants to see me anyway. Leave as much hair as you want." Eddie smiles dryly at the dog.

Without a word, well, obviously, it's a dog, but without even a look in his direction, the dog moves towards his bedroom.

"Came in for sleepy cuddles, huh?" Eddie chuckles to himself. He latches back the door and moves towards the kitchen to grab a snack for himself and the dog. He's putting an extra slice of ham on a plate when a voice startles him, coming in from the closed doors to his bedroom.

Unmistakably human. Unmistakably Steve's.

"Uh, Eddie? Can I borrow some pants?"

Eddie's brain reruns a whole passage on mimics from his monster manual. Then on faeries and demons and goes straight into thoughts of Demogorgons. His walkie is in the bedroom.

"Eddie?"

He does the next best thing and grabs the heaviest pan he can find.

"I can hear you man," Steve's voice comes with a sigh when he approaches the door. "I swear it's me and I'm sorry for scaring you, I'll explain everything in a minute." Eddie lowers the pan. "But I'd really like to be wearing pants while I do that."

The request is weird enough to settle his nerves and finally open the door. And sure enough, there is Steve Harrington, butt-naked save for the blanket he wrapped himself in. 

"What the fuck?" Eddie risks speaking up, his grip on the panhandle tightening. He glances towards his window. It's closed and all the trinkets on the sill below remain untouched. "Where's my dog?" he asks next, eyes dropping to the floor.

"Come on, man." Steve's fingers twist in the fabric of the blanket, and his face is a picture of pure distress. 

Eddie decides to show some mercy and, not taking his eyes off the intruder, inches his way to the dresser where he fishes out that one pair of hand-me-down sweats he's never fully grown into. They should be big enough to fit Harrington's ass. If that even was him.

He throws the pants at Steve, who fumbles to catch them while keeping the blanket covering him up. They stare at each other for a long while until Steve raises his eyebrows expectantly. 

"You gonna turn around or...?"

Eddie shakes his head stubbornly. He crosses his arms for good measure, despite the pan making it awkward and uncomfortable.

"I'm only half convinced you're not a mimic. Or a Vecna hallucination. So no, I'm not turning my back on you," he scoffs.

Steve's eyes widen at the mention of their last demonic opponent. He seems to understand Eddie's reservations a little bit better. 

"I swear I'm not," he says softer, looking guilty for scaring his friend even further than he already had. "I'm sorry for freaking you out," he continues, turning around himself. The blanket drops and Eddie never had another butt-ass naked man in his bedroom before. Golden boy Steve, too, among his band posters and trailer trash glory? A truly poetic sight. 

"I just had to come clean."

Steve bends over and the sweats don't get pulled up fast enough for Eddie to miss the twin moles on his right cheek.

He turns back around quickly, scratching his forearm self-consciously.

"Dustin's right, I'm just making it more difficult than it has to be."

Okay, so maybe involving Henderson didn't backfire as badly as Eddie feared. On the other hand, he had half-naked Steve Harrington, squirming uncomfortably at his place, so it was hard to tell. 

"Well, I'm here and listening, so you can go any moment now," Eddie prompts him, leaning against his desk. He observes Steve open and close his mouth hesitantly, and rolls his eyes. "Okay, kitchen," he commands, straightening up. When Steve doesn't move, he points at the door with his pan. "You go first, I don't trust that you're not gonna turn into something else."

Steve has made half a step when his eyes widen.

"You figured it out?"

Eddie raises his eyebrows, pan twisting in his grip half-threateningly. 

"So you are a mimic?"

"I don't know what a mimic is!" Steve groans, frustrated. "I just turn into a dog."

At first Eddie's ready to scoff, maybe throw the pan at him, but as he studies Steve's expression, he frowns. Slowly, he connects the dots in his brain.

"You've been the dog all this time?"

Steve nods.

"That's why I never saw you? Because you were right there, turned into a fucking dog?" he asks incredulously.

"Yeah," Steve admits, folding in on himself like he wanted to disappear.

Eddie puts the pan aside and starts pulling his rings off, one by one. Steve eyes him warily, and it takes him a moment to speak up.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

Eddie looks him calmly in the eye.

"I'm going to punch you now, and I don't want to cut you up."

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble

[booksbabybooks]

In rereading Discworld, I marvel at how lucky we were that Sir PTerry lived to give us such a fitting send off to that universe: and how that send off is much richer if you view Raising Steam and The Shepherd's Crown as a dual goodbye.

Steam gives us "big ideas" Pratchett at his finest: what happens when you introduce a world-changing roundworld idea to Discworld (the railways). It showcases a host of favourite main characters (Moist, Vimes, Vetinari and the Night Watch) plus some beloved minor characters (Harry, the Low King) and develops their relationships in new and interesting ways (see how Moist, who has never had time for the police, is forced to reassess Vimes, and vice versa). It moves key issues forward - gender politics in the dwarves, how certain species are treated - and revisits old stories (Vertinari's secret double, the golden golems). Plus we get some genuinely exciting set pieces, and happy endings all round. It would, on its own, be a fitting finale.

Then we get Shepherd. A small scale, intimate book about one old woman's death and one young woman's destiny. About how a life can ripple through the world, but without pulling focus from those in her smaller circle. It's not scared of big ideas - from the gender dynamics of witches to the relationship between faeries and the world - but it ultimately feels focused on one compact group of (mostly) women. While Steam felt like a big, showy leaving party, Shepherd feels like a farewell between friends, bittersweet but lovely all the same.

Together, they reflect the strengths of Discworld, its ability to tackle big ideas but to do so by tying them to characters who feel like people you know, making them small enough to grasp. Read them in close sittings, and they fit together beautifully.

[hanafubukki]

The Knight of Dawn’s and Silver’s Hair Color

(+ Possibly passing down of blessings through the generations)

I think it’s interesting to think about but we technically don’t, and I don’t believe we’ll ever know, Silver’s true hair color.

Because we don’t know The Knight of Dawn’s true hair color (possibly) nor Princess Leia’s (yet, maybe).

When Silver’s hair color changed from blond to silver, Lilia stated that the reason why Silver had blond hair could have been because The Knight of Dawn was blessed by the diurnal faeries to have “hair as golden as sunlight” so either KOD’s hair was changed from his original hair color to blond because of the blessing or his hair got an extra sheen to it to make his blond hair more lustrous.

So KOD might have had a different hair color than what we had seen, and Silver could have had that hair color or Leah’s hair color when he was born.

Because Silver was either born with or, possibly when the diurnal faes put him to sleep or even at birth, their the blessings might have given him blond hair.

Lilia’s words kind of also implies that blessing/hair color change might be passed down when having kids too.

Because if we think about it, if KOD hair color did change and Silver was born with blond hair, that would mean the blessing/hair color change was passed down.

(Translation by @/081314)

Which, technically, opens up a whole new door doesn’t it? And with it a bunch of feelings. Because that means that blessings might be passed to your children and maybe the power that KOD had was also passed down to Silver hence this would explain KOD’s demise at the humans’ hands…which parallels to a Meleanor theory where it was assumed that maybe Meleanor was weaker because she gave magic/recent birth to Malleus when she had the egg so she didn’t fight in full power. Imagine both KOD and Melanor dying after giving their magic to their sons?😭😭

(It would also explain why Silver is as strong as he is too)

For Silver, if that’s the case, it also means that it’s possible for his future children to have silver hair when they are born. So Lilia’s blessing could also be passed down as well.

But what if I also add on this? What if KOD’s hair was originally silver? And it was changed because of the fairies’ blessing?

If you look at KOD’s hair tips, it’s silver. Baby Silver has silver tips too. It is only with Lilia’s blessing did it turn fully silver.

So can you imagine? If KOD’s hair was originally silver -> turned blonde by the fairies’ blessing -> and then when Lilia blessed Silver that hair color turned back to KOD’s original color?

Wouldn’t that be sweet then? Wouldn’t it add more meaning to Lilia’s Blessing? To Silver’s hair color?

If this was the case, that would mean that Silver’s hair is a reflection of both of his fathers, the two who love him tremendously. 🥹💞

Additionally, if magic/power/blessing is also passed down from their parents, that would mean that Malleus and Silver being as strong as they are is because of their parents 😭🥹

(Which, we know is already the case with Malleus because of his parents’ and Lilia’s love and magic)

Faes and Humans are not so different after all. They just want their loved ones safe and happy.

It is any wonder then? That it will be Silver and Malleus, who were so cherished by their parents and raised by a certain fae, who would bridge that gap? The ones who will truly bring peace between the races. (Something that Lilia also worked so hard on?)

Book 7, I truly adore your message about love, forgiveness, and change. 🥹💞💚🙏

[uwukillmenowowo]

Hello sorry if this is a bad time but I have a request, I saw that you write for Cookie run Kingdom and I was wondering if you could write a new where the reader is Elder Faerie Cookie's child, you can choose if their biological or not, but the reader is also the reincarnation of someone the beast cookies cared about, I just thought that dynamic would be interesting, but if you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight😊.

YO- I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING I HAD AN IDEA SIMILAR TO THIS-

You have a good day/night too!

( >︠ ω ︡<)/

Curiosity

[PLATONIC]

(Parent! Elder Fairie Cookie X Reader X Parental! Beast Cookies)

(Slight White Lily X Reader)

Notes:

Reader will be Non-binary

The story will start with how you met the beast cookies

Then it will show how they created their parental bond with Elder Fairie

For the Beasts, I made up new names for their past selves before they became corrupted.

Reader was one of the most optimistic [Flavor] cookies one would meet.

The kind to give out flowers to make cookies' day better, presenting a beautiful frosty white smile to every cookie they walked by.

Practically every cookie that passed by them was filled with joy.

Oh shit I think this is my longest post-

..... I think I forgot something here but I can't remember what it is...

It started.... one too many eons ago. During times when they weren't who they used to be.

Warning! Mentions of Death!

{Third POV}

~~~~~

[Reader] wowed at the structure before them. The library that was said to be built was finally finished. They walked into the library and awed at all the books there. However, the building was empty.

"Good afternoon young one." The young cookie flinched and turned around, to see a cookie with blue eyes and golden brown dough. But what caught the attention of the young cookie was the beautiful gem that was displayed on his collar. "H-Hello" [Reader] answered nervously. "Did you come for a specific book?" The older cookie asked. To that, [Reader] nodded.

"Excellent! What kind?" He asked. [Reader] chuckled and rubbed their arm. "Uhhh... The-Thea-tri-cal." [Reader] answered with hesitation, due to them being young and unknowledgeable. "Do you mean Theatrical? Ones about shows and plays?" The blue eyed cookie asked with a smile. [Reader] nodded excitedly, explaining that they've heard some other cookies talking about it and was curious.

"That would be this way." The librarian started to lead the way towards the children's section, searching for the "puppet shows" books. "So, what's your name little cookie? Shouldn't you be with your parents?" [Reader] laughed as they found a book they liked. "My name is [Reader] Cookie. You can call me [Reader]. Dad crumbled and mom followed after. How about you, mister?" The little cookie answered as if it was a normal thing to say aloud.

The librarian gasped and held their hand to their mouth before taking in a deep breath and sat beside [Reader]. "Oh My Witches... My name is Blueberry Milk Cookie. Feel free to call me Blueberry Milk." [Reader] smiled and nodded before they started to read. blueberry Milk Cookie gave a sad look towards [Reader]. 'They're... all alone' He thought as he turned his gaze to the book that [Reader] was holding. "How old are you? You seem to understand this book really well." He asked.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm six." It was like a punch to the gut to Blueberry Milk Cookie. "[Reader], if you need anything, you can come to me okay?" The librarian offered, wanting to help the child before him. "Okay." [Reader] responded. [Reader] and Blueberry Milk spent hours together, until [Reader] decided to leave.

After leaving the Library, [Reader] started running, only to bump into multiple cookies. "Oh- Sorry about-" "Watch it, Kid!" The young cookie went wide eyed as the older cookies glared at them. "I-I didn't mean to- I was just- AHH!" The younger cookie screamed as the older cookies grabbed them by their shirt collar.

"What's going on here?" The older cookies let go of [Reader], causing them to fall on their butt as they watched the exchange. "Strawberry Sugar Cookie!" They exclaimed happily. [Reader] scooted back in worry. After all, all they saw was pink. The owner of that pink wore a crown as well, as if they were the current King or Queen of the kingdom.

"Oh my! Who is this?" [Reader] yelped as they were suddenly picked up by the cookie they were just worried about. Pink robes, wings and a halo, but like with Blueberry Milk Cookie, what drawn [Reader] to this cookie, was the heart shaped gem that was in the crown the the cookie who picked them up. "Oh goodness! You're hurt, worry not, I have a friend who will fix your dough!" They smiled before suddenly taking flight.

"WAAHHH!" [Reader] screamed and tightly held onto the pink robed cookie. "Is everything alright?" Strawberry Sugar asked. [Reader] just shrugged and looked down, only to regret it and unconsciously nuzzle into the crook of her neck in fear. "Oh dear, not a fan of heights? What's your name?" [Reader] told her their name and Strawberry Sugar responded happily. "Well it's nice to meet you [Reader]! My name is Strawberry Sugar Cookie." [Reader] almost felt that Strawberry Sugar's happiness was infectious and smiled.

After a joyful conversation to take [Reader]'s mind off the height they were flying at, they reached a temple. A temple so grand that [Reader] has never seen anything like it. But something else, was that there was an enormous line. "So many people!" [Reader] stood close to Strawberry Sugar.

1: To not get lost

2: Everyone was too loud and [Reader] didn't like it

3: WHERE EVEN WERE THEY???

[Reader] followed Strawberry Sugar as they practically cut through the line. Of course, other people objected and tried to cut as well but the guards blocked them. Some guards tried to "protect" Strawberry Sugar by grabbing [Reader] away from them. But after Strawberry Sugar explained that you two went to visit "Her" together, they let you go.

You walked up stairs and stairs, passing halls, and beautiful depictions along stained glass. "So... Who is Her?" The small cookie asked with a tilt of their head. "Oh? I haven't told you? We're gonna fix that little wounds of yours little one. The one going to do that~" With a dramatic pause, Strawberry Sugar pulled a curtain, revealing a figure dressed in white. "Is Wheat Flour Cookie!"

"Strawberry Sugar... What have I told you about our volume in my temple?" Strawberry Sugar flinched and pouted, taking a few steps back. You awed at the white dressed cookie that was sitting before you. "G-Good afternoon Ma'am." [Reader] responded politely with a bow.

Strawberry Sugar and Wheat Flour talked about why her and [Reader] were here. Soon after, Strawberry Sugar left [Reader] alone with the healer.

"So... Enlighten me, what happened young cookie?"

{Second POV}

~~~~~

You kneeled and sat on your knees just like Wheat Flour Cookie. "Umm..." You hesitated, not knowing where to start. "How about we start from the beginning. What did you do today?" You hummed as you started recalling your day. The cookies talking about that play, meeting Blueberry Milk Cookie, reading, running into two older male cookies and getting threatened, meeting Strawberry Sugar Cookie, flying to the temple, and then right now.

Wheat Flour nodded and took your small dough hands into her own before giving some advice. Telling you to simply ignore those who wish harm upon you and that you should continue to find joy and hope in your life. Suddenly, with a white and golden glow, all the wounds you previously had were healed.

You were in awe and Wheat Flour told you to sit beside her as she tended to other cookies. You just nodded and sat beside her. Those next few hours were spent helping Wheat Flour with the other cookies.

You had fun and when you left you saw Strawberry Sugar Cookie just laying down, sleeping. You were in shock. 'Did she wait for me?' You thought and smiled before gently shaking her awake. "Oh... all done?" She asked as she rubbed her eyes. You nodded and she smiled. "Good. A little birdie told me that you met Blueberry Milk Cookie before this. Is that right?" You nodded and her eyes sparkled. "Wonderful! You know, Him, me and Wheat Flour are really good friends."

You wowed. They were friends? You had no clue. "Would you like to meet the other two?" She asked with a tilt of her head. You nodded eagerly. The cookies you've met so far were some of the nicest people you've met. You were.... happy.

Strawberry Sugar pulled you close to her before jumping and flying off one of the many cliffs. You screamed again, but instead of fear, it was in excitement. Strawberry Sugar would do cool flips and tricks with you tightly holding on. It was so much fun, just flying above Crispia.

"And here!" Strawberry Sugar said as you two landed. "It's so hot!" You sweatdropped and fanned yourself with your hand. "Ahah~! Yeah- Crushed Spice Cookie and Sea Salt Cookie like warm areas." You hummed at the explanation and you kicked your feet in the sand, not used to being so close to the water. "Heheh~ Do you like the sand?" Strawberry Sugar asked as she followed behind you.

You nodded, digging your feet into the sand before the waves suddenly washed onto the shore, splashing onto your clothes and your dough. You flinched and accidentally fell into the water and Strawberry Sugar laughed before helping you up. "Oh dear! how clumsy!" She picked you up and dusted the sand off your clothes. You chuckled as she pat you head and started leading you towards somewhere.

"So... Salt and Spice? What are they like?" You asked. Strawberry Sugar hummed in thought. "Crushed Spice is... really competitive. And Sea Salt is pretty... reserved?" Strawberry Sugar shrugged. "I haven't seen them in a while so I can't remember at the top of my head."

After a few more minutes of walking you found yourself in front of a nice house. Strawberry Sugar, noticing the look you were giving, said, "It's bigger on the inside. They both don't like cramped spaces." You asked if they lived together and she nodded, saying how those two acted like brothers.

Strawberry Sugar barged in and you followed. You felt bad for entering uninvited but it is what it is. You continued to follow Strawberry Sugar since you didn't want to get lost. Once she stopped walking, you looked in front to see two cookies with... really funny bedheads. You can't really blame them though, you left Wheat Flour's temple at dusk and Strawberry Sugar and you decided to fly the whole night. So when you got there it was only dawn.

The red one looked angry while the lavender one just looked extremely tired. The more angry one, you guess was Crushed Spice. He just walked up to Strawberry Sugar before grabbing her by her collar and dragging her. Strawberry Sugar tried protesting but then just crossed her arms and pouted.

You didn't know how to feel since you were just left alone with Sea Salt Cookie. It was silent as you two just stood there. until Sea Salt asked if you wanted a snack. You nodded and walked with the lavender cookie into the kitchen. He asked what kind of snack you wanted and you said you were fine with anything since you were a guest.

He just nodded before pouring you a bowl of cereal. You took it, thanked him and sat at the table to eat. It was comfortable silence for you two... Until you heard screaming and shouting from Strawberry Sugar and Crushed Spice. You gave a worried looked to Sea Salt but he just chuckled and told you that it's fine and that they do that all the time. You just nodded slowly, eating you food but stopping halfway once you saw Strawberry Sugar seemingly running for her dough from a flaring Crushed Spice.

As much as you were worried, you found it extremely fun.

Ever since those two days, you've been... seeing them more often.

Blueberry Milk Cookie would sit beside you when you visited the library and read to you

Strawberry Sugar Cookie would practically fly you anywhere you wanted

Wheat Flour Cookie would send you letters with different incenses... Sometimes even first aid kits...

Crushed Spice Cookie is technically your babysitter whenever Strawberry Sugar can't. At first you thought he doesn't like you but he's really soft with you... Even though he makes you do exercises with him...

Finally, Sea Salt Cookie. He's pretty chill. You two would just take naps most of the time. His room is just the right temperature to sleep forever.

The five of them acted like the parents you never had. It made you happy.

Everything went well...

Until it didn't...

That fated day their souls turned black.

You went to visit Wheat Flour Cookie because it was the anniversary you met everyone. You already gave your gifts to the others, Wheat Flour waas last because you knew how busy she was.

Now normally you'd wait in line with everyone else but today since you were just going to go in and out, you decided to use your "VIP Card" that she gave you. But others got pissed. They were jealous and confused. Why would you, a small cookie that looked like the happiest cookie they could be, want to go see Wheat Flour Cookie?

No cookie acted until a middle aged cookie did. They ran out of line and grabbed you by the shoulder. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" You just blinked twice and gave them a smile, holding up the gift you were going to give. "I'm going to give this to Wheat Flour Cookie." The smile you gave just pissed them off as they asked why you weren't going o line up. You told them the reason, that you wouldn't take a long time and that you had a VIP card.

The cookie just stared down at the card before smirking. "Say.. Can I.. Borrow that for a bit?" You were about to lend it but you remembered what Wheat Flour said. "Sorry. I would but Wheat Flour said that this was only mine. It has my name." You flipped the card, showing your name. "[Reader] Cookie..." The cookie before you glared at the card before looking back at the line. "Can I... come with you then?"

You didn't see a problem with that so you nodded. Other cookies who saw the exchange, started to run out of the line to talk with you. Until a massive group started to run over to you so that they could talk to Wheat Flour cookie before everyone else. You held the gift close to your chest and sucked in your breath as the other cookies started yelling excuses, causing the guard cookies to have trouble keeping people in line.

"My family is sick!"

"My family is poor!"

"My daughter-"

"My Son-"

"My Father-"

"My Mother-"

"My Brother-"

"My Sister-"

"Aunt!"

"Uncle!"

The excuses kept coming as you tried to get away. No cookie admitted that they wanted everything for themselves. You didn't know how to answer any of it. You didn't have the power to choose one over the other. Until finally, a cookie, desperate enough, grabbed the sword off one of the guard cookies and stabbed you from behind.

You screamed in pain, dropping the gift you brought and coughed. Chaos erupted after that. Cookies started attacking each other left and right. One of the guard cookies, picked you up before running to where Wheat Flour was.

"MY LADY!" They yelled, barging through the door. Wheat Flour, who was just waiting for the next cookie to come in, was in complete shock as she saw you looking pale and panting heavily. "W-What happened?!" She asked as the guard placed you before her. "A fight broke out in front of the temple." They explained, saluting. Wheat Flour, using her magic to look at what was happening was in shock. This has never happened before.

"Call the others. I cannot handle this myself, considering the amount of Cookies there are." The guard nodded and left, leaving you in the arms of Wheat Flour. She tried her best to heal you but it was barely effective. The wound was too deep and you lost too much. Wheat Flour started panicking. She gently patted your cheeks, trying to get you to stay awake but it wasn't working.

"No- no no no no no-! Come now- Don't- Don't do this to me-" Wheat Flour panted as tears reached her eyes. In that very moment, the others came in. "Wheat Flour! What's going ooAAAAAHHHh!" Strawberry Sugar Cookie screamed as she saw the state you were in. She raced over to where you were, already bursting into tears. "What happened?!? Who did this!!?" Strawberry Sugar took you into her arms, holding you tight, trying to see if you were still breathing.

Desperate banging and screaming could be heard on the other side of the temple doors. "We'll keep the cookies at bay! Take care of [Reader]!" Crushed Spice Cookie snarled as Blueberry Milk and Sea Salt followed.

Wheat Flour and Strawberry Sugar tried to use their magic to heal you but it barely worked. Strawberry Sugar started to hyperventilate as Wheat Flour's hand started shaking. They both saw your breathing get slower and slower until it became nonexistent... and finally... they snapped.

Outside, Blueberry Milk, Crushed Spice, and Sea Salt tried their best to not hurt any of the other cookies. But it all went out the window when they heard Strawberry Sugar's scream. They've never heard her scream like that before. But what shocked them was that she flew up, just above the temple, and used her magic to blast the cookies away, killing them.

Cookies who saw that started running off. But they weren't able to get far because Wheat Flour was there to stop them. Both girls made cookies crumble and the others didn't know what to do... When they caught sight of the temple, they caught a clear sight of your crumbled body, clearly unmoving. Blueberry Milk covered his mouth while Sea Salt gasped as his legs shook. Crushed Spice gritted his teether before all he saw was blood red. He grabbed the sword he once used against enemies and used it against his fellow cookies.

That one, anger-filled strike, caused one of Wheat Flour's mountains to split in two. With that, Blueberry Milk and Sea Salt followed, using their own powers to use against the other cookies.

After all the cookies have crumbled, the gang became enraged. They were blinded by their hatred and grief that they went all around Crispia, crumbling any cookie they saw. This went on for years...

Until the Witches caught notice. they sealed the enraged Cookies in the remote continent of Beast Yeast. Before they saw your crumbled body. They felt it all. The pain and regret you held in your heart. You were too young to experience all that.

The Witches decided to place your soul in a newly baked body before they placed you before the Fairie Kingdom. Elder Fairie cookie found and he received a prophecy from the Witches.

The Witches explained how they entrusted some of the Beast's powers to the child so that the beasts cannot reclaim their full power because they know that the Beasts wouldn't harm the child. Elder Fairie understood and took in the child as his own. Not only so that the child could help quell the beasts from destroying the Fairie Kingdom but so that he could help the child control their powers when they're older.

Years passed and [Reader] was now a teenager [Even though they're like- Hundreds of years old by now]. They were doing their daily chores. When suddenly, he saw Silverbell cookie with someone they've never seen before. She had white hair and a floral green dress. "Ah! Your Highness! What timing." You nodded. "Silverbell Cookie. Who is this?" You asked as you fixed your clothes. "Oh, this is White Lily Cookie. She saved me while I was wounded."

You gave a sympathetic gaze to Silverbell and you bowed your head to White Lily. "Oh goodness! Thank you for helping him. Silverbell Cookie can be very... frail." You chuckled as Silverbell gave you a pout.

"Oh! You must be Elder Fairie Cookie that I've been hearing about then? You're much younger than I expected." White Lily gave you a smile and you laughed bashfully. "Ahahah! Actually no! That's my father. My name is [Reader] Cookie." White Lily gasped and rubbed the back of her neck, apologizing. You told her that everything was fine and you offered to introduce her to your father. She accepted happily and you dismissed Silverbell before leading her through the kingdom.

Seeing White Lily's awestruck gaze, you found yourself staring at her a little too long that you tripped over your feet. "Oh goodness! Here, let me help you." You felt your dough heat up as you took her hand and stood up. "Thank you..." You replied bashfully before continuing to lead her through the Kingdom. For some reason... Her smile reminded you of someone. You... can't remember where though.

When you introduced her to Elder Fairie, he was shocked. A cookie from a different continent... here? Interacting with his child- UUHHH- WHAT'S WITH THAT SMILE YOU'RE GIVING HER???

Elder Fairie looked between you two but kept his calm. You told him everything that Silverbell told you and Elder Fairie nodded. He just asked you to tour her around and you walked away with her happily.

'My child- With a girl???' Elder Fairie looked looked around desperately trying to find an excuse as to pry you away from White Lily. 'They're too young still! I never even let them out of the kingdom! Suddenly there's a girl they look fond of???' Elder Fairie went to his chambers to think.

Meanwhile, you were showing White Lily every crevice of the kingdom, loving how fascinated she was with everything you showed her. But then you shivered 'Why do I feel like I'm going to get punished for some reason..?' you thought in confusion before shaking it off, turning your attention back to White Lily.

"AAAGH! The seal is cracking!!"

"Your Majesty! Are you hurt?!"

"No, I'm unharmed! [Reader], are you alright?"

"I'm okay..."

The seal... you've heard about it from your father. You were told that ancient beings laid dormant in the silver tree. Beings that turned to beasts and wrecked havoc in the olden days. Your father told you how each beast had a soul jam. however, once the beasts were trapped, their soul jam was lost and given to other cookies. One of them being White Lily Cookie. You were worried for her safety but if she holds ancient powers then your fears are quelled.

"And evil will that has focused all its rage on breaking free from confinement. It must have angered the Beasts greatly now that each Soul Jam has found its rightful owner. Yes... they sensed that unless they escape now... they might never be granted another chance in the future. All their might now serves one single purpose- destroying the hated seal."

"Everyone, we must stand our ground. Our place now is by the Guardian of the Seal!" White Lily claimed as she stood beside you. "We shall protect His Majesty or crumble! For if the Guardian falls, there is no way to stop the Beasts from escaping." You helped White Lily motivate the other guards as you all raced to the silver tree. To see a major split.

"The seal has already split so wide..." White Lily gasped. You took her hand into yours. Telling her that it was all going to be okay, then gave her a reassuring nod. She smiled and then raised her staff. "Everyone, fight with me!"

Shadowy beings crawled out of the seal as cookies started fighting. White Lily started charging a powerful attack as someone started to protect the spellcaster. Which just so happened to be you.

"𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎… 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎…"

You gasped as a voice suddenly played through you head. "Hello..?" You whispered as you continued to protect White Lily.

"𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎…… [𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]..?"

You tensed up. as the voice said your name. "How do you know me..?" You bit the inside of your cheek but before the voice answered, White Lily's attack hit. Blocking the beasts and preventing the voice from talking with you.

You furrowed your brows, your curiosity is now peaked and you wanted to know how the voice knew you.

However, we all know the saying,

"Curiosity Killed the Cat"

Okay- I'm tired now-

Like for a part 2

( ─ . ─ )✌

Goodnight

[whereserpentswalk]

Select a strange and inhuman creature from beyond the realms of human knowledge to go on a sate with and possibly form a long term relationship with.

1- a scientist from an alternate timeline where the kpg mass extinction never happened, and raptors evolved sapient minds. He's trapped in this realm after a failed timeline travel mission. He's very curious about your world, though still a bit afraid of his fate here.

2- a cyborg supersolider whose been wandering the earth since the fall of Atlantis. She has a tall slender build, and is unable to take off her power armor below the neck. Despite her appearance she can be very quiet and reserved, and despite her appearance startles easily. She's still deconstructing a lot of trauma from her past.

3- a mouthless, sexless, vampire who drains blood through very sharp tentacles on their. They seem to be at the bottom of whatever hierarchy vampires have, being unable to speak of pass as human. Though they have an animalistic way of movement, and can't communicate without aac, they're very much a person, and tend to be affectionate and enthusiastic with those who are nice to them.

4- a deal making entity that looks like a black eyed human in a suit (the suit can't come off, it's like part of its skin). It's known to buy and sell human souls, but it wouldn't do that to someone it's on a date with. It's personality is considered strange and sometimes uncomfortable to humans, though it is charismatic in a way. It will also insist it isn't a person.

5- an elder demon whose taking a hundred year vacation from the underworld. Despite his job as a demon he tends to be pretty freindly and casual, sometimes deceptively so. He appears as a tall reptilian humanoid, with horns, several eyes, and a heavy set build. He'll probably give you headpats.

6- a shape-shifter made out of living metal who was made as a weapon, but failed her job because she refuses to take forms that aren't female. She's just been released into the world and is still kind of naïve and can be very trusting of new people that she meets. Her base form that she chooses to take is some sort of anime oc.

7- faerie of the unseelie court who kidnapps children who wander into abandoned buildings. She tends to appear as a naked woman, with deer antlers, and a snake where her genitals should be. She can seem a bit sadistic and violent, but since you're her's she'll be nice to you, just don't expect to explain the concept of morality to her, she lives a life based on what she finds fun. For better or worse she doesn't kill the children, though they aren't human children after she's done with them.

8- a computer from the 1980s whose been granted sentience. He's very arogent due to being technically the first agi, though little to his knowledge he's only sentient because a faerie lord thought it would be funny. Due to his limited body he uses a wheelchair for movement and some sort of claw to grab things. He's nice but he can be a bit self centered.

9- a slender genderless humanoid and a massive venomous wyvern who are actually the same being inhabiting two bodies. They can seem cold at first, and don't seem to have normal body language or expression, though they do feel emotions despite what some think. They can pretty easily lose track of social cues and tend to go own about their hyperfixations a lot. They really hope you'll like them, and also want to make sure you see them as equally their humanoid and draconic halves, not just one or the other.

10- a fallen angel who only fell a few weeks ago. It's still very afraid of what it's become, scares easily, and has an inferiority complex, though it can be very nice and affectionate. It won't tell you why the other angels kicked it out, though it now knows the entity that created it lied about being a god, and shouldn't be trusted by mortals. It looks like a living doll, with a jointed body, and golden wings and a broken halo behind its head.

11- werewolf who serves a god so old that his name has been lost to history. The werewolf has been around for a long time, and has been fighting for the rights of humans, nature, and other entities since the 20th century. Xe speaks with a soft voice, and converses with humans, gods, demons and animals all in the same tone, and with the same amount of respect.

12- the sparrow king. Do not under any circumstances interact with the sparrow king. The organization does not approve of this option.

Reblog to book your date. Like to buy the creature a little present.

[rhenysz]

Your Dead Eyes - Chapter 1

Summary: Lifeless eyes were what haunted your all your life, many people say that death was lurking around your eyes, maybe it's true. Maybe you just see things that other people don't.

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron! reader fem.

A/n: This took longer than expected and isn't even half as long as I would have liked, but I've finally finished the first book and let's get to the real story! Thank you for the positive feedback 🙌🏻 This chapter was more about the sisters' bond, the next ones will be different. I think the Reader has an emotional dependence on Feyre 😥

*English is NOT my native language, this fanfic was translated with the help of an AI, any grammatical errors please let me know*

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Scars, family abandonment, mentioned death.

previous x next

"Do you not think you're exaggerating?" Elain asked you with forced gentleness. The sound of her sipping tea tickled your ears. Dropping your own teacup on the living room's coffee table – causing some splashes to stain the surface – you placed a hand on your chest in mock indignation, perhaps not entirely fake.

"I'd rather be thrown to the wolves than face the conjugal bed, and I must say I'm terrified of those animals." Your lips curled downward, "Men, in this case."

Elain's eyes crinkled at the corners, and the curve of her lips lifted even as she tried to dispel the amusement she felt.

"I understand. But maybe you should consider, I bet Feyre would return in time for your wedding." She spoke with her eyes lowered to the tea.

No, she wouldn't return. You wanted to shout out to Elain. Hardly would that beast willingly let your sister go, that is if she wasn't already in the belly of those faeries.

"I have no interest in getting married, sister. And who in their right mind would be interested in someone with my condition?" Your voice was soft, not a hint of resentment showing in your features.

Having a man in your life was not something you desired. They were rough, lazy, and smelled bad. Not even the twisted relationship Feyre had with that man could make you want one too.

"Maybe... you just haven't looked in the right place," Elain commented. Looked? Have holy patience. You were hardly going to look at anything, let alone a man. Realizing her bluntness, Elain widened her eyes towards you, "I didn't mean it that way, sister, it was just a figure of speech—"

Your laughter cut off Elain's awkward attempt to apologize. Your shoulders shook with the intensity of your laughter. Elain sighed in relief and awkwardly joined in.

Feyre didn't treat you as if you were about to burst into tears.

After that interesting conversation with Elain, Nesta barged into the room, interrupting – rather rudely – to announce that a luxurious carriage was approaching.

You could hear the rustle of Elain's skirts as she tried to beautify herself even more. Despite Nesta feigning an indifferent facade, she was also discreetly arranging her hair.

Laughing to yourself, you wondered how you must look in your supposed light blue dress. A hand grabbed your arm and gently lifted you from the sofa. Nesta, you could tell the difference. Elain had rougher hands from gardening, and Nesta's hands were colder.

"Let's go. Can you manage on your own?" Nesta asked. You appreciated that she allowed you to have your own autonomy. Nodding, you reached for the edge of the sofa where your cane rested and grabbed it.

When you heard the door opening, your head turned towards the sound and you went, dragging the golden tip of the cane across the floor, which hit the furniture warning you to dodge, and slowly going after your sisters – who were walking significantly slower to wait for you.

His cane hit the front door step. Carefully, you placed your foot in front to descend. The breeze made your hair flutter, and it felt so good; the wind kissed your skin like a longing lover.

"Welcome to our home... Lady." You heard Nesta as you finally caught up with your sisters. A brief moment of silence followed, soon to be cut by an extremely familiar laughter

.Your heart raced, and your free hand crumpled the dress you were wearing. Your lifeless eyes turned, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Nesta," she laughed, "doesn't recognize her own sister?" The air was expelled from your lungs, Feyre. A burning sensation started in your eyes, and without you realizing, fat tears streamed down your flushed cheeks. No matter how or where, you would always, always recognize your sister's voice.

The crunching of dried leaves alerted you that someone was approaching, a calm breath was blown on your face. Your trembling lips also parted as you tried to find the right words. Nothing came to mind; it was as if your brain had turned to jelly.

"My snowflake..." Feyre stepped forward, using her fingers to wipe away your tears. She missed you so much while she was with Tamlin. Her chest weighed every time she thought of you, her dearest sister.

Closing your eyes tightly, you let out a sob and threw yourself into Feyre's arms. Discarding the cane without care, your hands reached the back of your sister, pulling her into a tight and emotional embrace.

Feyre staggered under your weight and laughed. She laughed as she nestled in your arms and continued to laugh even as she felt Nesta's eyes drilling holes into her head.

You couldn't physically move away from Feyre while your sisters talked with her. Your hand clung to hers in the hope that if you held on tight enough, she wouldn't leave again.

But not even all the happiness you were feeling could make you ignore Feyre's excuse. Taking care of Aunt Ripleigh? You distinctly remembered that it wasn't Aunt Ripleigh who tore the door off the old cabin.

As expected, Nesta was cautious, hovering over you and Elain as if Feyre would reveal her true intentions at any moment. She declined Elain's invitation to go to the garden, seeing Feyre there made her physically sick, so she withdrew to avoid conflicts in front of her sisters.

You were focused on Feyre and Elain's conversation, desperately wanting her to talk about what happened.

Feyre tensed when Elain casually mentioned – distracted by the flowers – that Nesta visited her at Aunt Ripleigh's. Another lie.

You felt Feyre's breath near your face: "How have you been?"

Fine. You were fine, but not well enough to disguise the suspicion in your expression. Feyre quickly noticed and stepped back slightly.

"Why are you lying to us?" You were direct, no more beating around the bush. You needed answers, and not even Elain's presence would distract you from your goal.

Feyre widened her eyes toward Elain and was relieved to see that she was far enough away not to hear. Biting her lips, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward the exit, giving a brief goodbye to Elain, who was so fascinated by the new petunia seedlings that she didn't care.

You were guided through a few doors until you reached a room that Feyre considered safe from curious ears.

You crossed your arms over your chest and impatiently waited for Feyre, who ran her hand through her hair and sighed, not knowing where to start. Then she decided to start with the worst.

"I– I'm in love with the High Lord of Prythian."

If you weren't already blind, you could swear your vision blurred at that moment.

And then Feyre told you, told about how the other side of the wall was breathtaking, told about the peculiar creatures that existed there, told about her frenemy Lucien, and told about how she fell in love with the beast that turned out to be so loving to her.

And to your dismay, she detailed the night of passion she had before being – gently – sent home.

"I didn't need to know that. I have a vivid imagination, and I hate myself for it." You spoke with disgust; Feyre chuckled and approached you, taking your hand and bringing it to her face.

"I haven't told you everything," you murmured for her to continue. Your fingers traced the contours of her face. She looked so different but at the same time so familiar. Perhaps she had become healthy.

"There was a male who threatened Tamlin, he was handsome, maybe the most beautiful male I've ever seen," she commented absentmindedly, "he asked for my name... Clare Beddor."

Clare Beddor, the name weighed on your tongue. Clare, your former neighbor who was killed in such a horrendous way that no one could bear to look for too long, according to your gossip source – Elain.

Feyre had given a false name to the fairy assassin. And you could swear she didn't know what had happened to that poor girl. And perhaps you weren't the most suitable person to tell her about the event; Feyre seemed happy sharing her new experiences. And you? You would allow yourself to be selfish for a moment.

"I understand."

Your sisters and your father went to the seasonal ball, and despite Elain's insistence, that wasn't your place. Your place was anywhere as long as it was far from high society. You certainly didn't fit the standards imposed by them, even though those who looked at you were dazzled.

"A beauty never seen before."

"I would die for features as delicate as yours."

"It's truly a shame…"

Feyre promised to come back early, just like you; she didn't like crowds and pompous people. Feyre promised to come back early.

So you did the only thing that was possible – you waited. Waited while eating, waited while talking to some servants, waited while invading Elain's garden, and waited until you got tired and chose the living room sofa as a great place to rest.

Inevitably, your eyes began to weigh, and before you realized it, sleep completely took you, plunging you into a deep state of peace, unable to hear the hurried steps through the house and the slam of the door closing.

Feyre promised to come back early.

Feyre hated goodbyes.

Perhaps, just perhaps, you should have already imagined that this would happen. Feyre was in love with the beast, and people in love tend to do foolish things.

That didn't ease the chest pain you felt when the next morning you were informed that she had returned to the fae lands in search of her High Lord. The feelings of betrayal and sadness walked hand in hand.

At the same time, you couldn't find the strength to harbor resentment towards her. Why would you? For the first time in her life, your sister was dedicating herself to something that truly made her happy. It didn't matter if she was leaving her family behind, right? No, that mattered to you.

Nesta hated dealing with your whirlwind of emotions; she hated that you depended on someone to be happy, and she made it clear when you woke up.

"Feyre is not responsible for what you feel. You are allowing yourself to stay in this state. Stop depending on her to live."

Despite being harsh, Nesta was spot-on with her words. Feyre was finally living her dream life; it was time for you to start living yours too, without anyone dictating how you should feel.

And thinking about this led you to where you were now, with your hands covered in clay – and probably not just your hands – trying to give some shape to that earthy mass on the spinning table in the studio.

Your mind wandered through all the possibilities of sculpture. Sculpting things your fingers had memorized or even inventing new forms to call conceptual. It would be ironic if your sculptures became famous.

Humming to yourself, your fingers gently moved over the clay's edges, shaping a small sphere; you pulled five points out and rounded the edges.

"They look like fingers." Merina's voice made you jump on the stool; Merina was one of the maids you had become close to, she had such a calm and gentle voice that, if you let her, could lull you to sleep.

"Well, I hope so. I'd be very upset if they looked like something else." You laughed, still molding your supposed fingers. Merina dragged a stool to join you, after, of course, looking down the hall to make sure no one was approaching.

She looked amazed at your hands giving life to the clay. Inevitably, her mind wandered, how? How were you capable? Feeling where your mind wandered, you chuckled softly and tilted your head in a silent invitation. Merina cleared her throat and asked:

"Why a hand?"

You subtly widened your eyes; that certainly wasn't the question you were expecting. A hum came from your throat before you answered Merina.

"It's with my hands that I see; they are my eyes to the world," you replied, licking your lips as you pondered, "I don't know how I manage it; I fear there's no logical explanation for it."

Merina didn't say anything, just grunted in response. Extending your hand, you searched the table until you found a small knife; bringing it close to the sculpture, you began making small fillets with it all along the hand's length.

Merina turned to you curiously, not understanding why you were deforming the piece. She gently nudged you with a – painfully pointed – question.

"Hmm, I've been thinking about it lately, hands with scars," you made one final cut and dropped the knife. Merina reached for an old cloth to help you clean your hands, "thank you. What would it be like to see with these hands? Would the texture of things be different? Or would the sensitivity be greater?" You rambled to her.

There were so many questions to consider, and in your opinion, you could already be considered a hands expert. That made you laugh.

Merina took the cloth from your hands and brought it toward your face, cleaning some clay splatters that had strayed there.

"I hope you don't have the answers on your own. It must be a horrible pain to have your hands torn apart." She commented, lowering the cloth.

A horrible pain? Makes sense. Whoever has hands like that must have a melancholic story behind them.

"You're right."

As promised, you lived your life the best way possible, and sculptures paved the way to your heart. Over time, your clay skills became refined, even daring to sculpt the features of your sisters; Nesta was your biggest supporter, even if she didn't admit it, there wasn't a day she didn't pass by to make sure your stock was full.

Each sister had their own shelf containing everything you thought resembled them. Elain had sculpted flowers and cakes, Nesta had books and red jewels, and Feyre had an arrow – just a sculpture, but it was the one you dedicated the most time to, whether smoothing the edges or trying to paint in the right places.

Because even though Feyre was a million miles away, you would love her all the way, and even if she never came back, you would find your way to her through the heart.

You wouldn't wait for her, but you wouldn't forget everything you had been through together.

And you might not even believe she would come back, but that tingling you felt in your fingers when you heard a knock on the door made you doubt your mental state.

It may be that besides being blind, you're also becoming deaf because hearing your sister's name from Elain's lips after so long is not a sign of good auditory nostalgia.

"Feyre?"

TAGLIST:

@dearestdaffodils @going-through-shit

@valeridarkness @wallacewillow0773638

@harrystylesfan2686 @carnationworld

@applerubyy @saltedcoffeescotch

@esposadomd @justdreamstars

@microwaveallthedemons

[typewritersensuite]

𝙄𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙨

word count: 1.5+k

warnings: longing lesbian love, fae girlfriend being literally so hot, shes like 5'9/5'10, she's a simp for you, blood play!!, pussy eating!!, she's dom😌, she's everything and you're just human, dirty talk.

╔══════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════════╗

♡Living in a dead end village filled with plain men and a boring future was no way to live. You knew this. You woke up to this life on the daily. It was grating and exhausting pretending to care about courting any of the men that existed around you. From their beards to their breath, they repulsed you completely.

♡The women were always something to marvel at, yet the shaming eyes of the village chief forbid you from ever allowing you to be yourself. To be free. The longing glances you casted at the women were only ever met with a harsh gaze or a sad look. You could never act out on your desires. On who you truly were.

♡So one day, you packed your bag contained only the necessities that you needed. And left, heading into the dark forest that bordered on the edge of your village.

♡There were so many stories about the forest, how it was dark and enchanted. How monsters roamed. How faeries lived there, that there entire kingdom was hidden deep in the woods. But it didn't scare you. It excited you, it gave you a chance of a promising future something you were desperate for. It also meant to shaming eyes and a life of freedom to be who you were meant to be.

♡Eventually after hours of travelling through tall grass, marshy lawns, thorns and mangled trees, your exhaustion hit. After taking a drink of water from your flask, you rested against a trunk of a tree and soon were lulled into a peaceful sleep.

═══════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═══════════

♡When you awoke, you were no longer outside. Instead you were wrapped in silk white bedsheets that clung to you like a second skin. Pillows so soft they were practically pleading your name to lay your head back upon them. The room was incredibly... beautiful.

♡Black floor boards and golden fluffy rugs, a large vanity that was covered in perfumes and other strange bottles. A large mirror in the corner opposite to the open window that swayed the golden curtains. Swords mounted along the walls and books scattered around.

♡But before you could re catch your breath, the last bit of your oxygen was stolen from your lungs from the ethereal beauty that walked in.

♡Long, black silky hair, a pale face and golden brown eyes. All matched with a beautiful green silk dressed that hugged her body and made her look like a Goddess. The beautiful iridescent wings on her back shone in the sunlight and reflected on the walls almost like stained glass.

♡She smiles brightly at you and flutters over to you, her soft fingers closing your jaw. "you're awake." She coos softly.

♡And you turn into a puddle, a woman- a Fae so beautiful was here cooing over you. Her skin was so soft and her eyes were so impossibly cute.

♡"My name is Morgana, I'm the captain of the guards. You're lucky I caught you, you were almost swallowed whole by a Naga! It would be a shame to see your beautiful face torn up."

♡An absolute puddle. She thought you were beautiful.

═══════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═══════════

♡After spending a few months beside Morgana, you realised you had a lot in common. The passion to always learn, the need to always explore, the appreciation for beauty. And of course a mutual yearning.

♡It wasn't forbidden in the kingdom, infact it was a normal. The reason why you would cast each other longing glances was because you were mortal.

♡Morgana was already attached to you, and she wasn't ready to cross a line where she would forever be yours, just for you to leave her with your death. It wasn't fair.

♡Her kind often had one partner for life, yes they could be polygamous but every Fae had one partner. A life long best friend that they were always bound to, that they would always serve and crave. And Morgana hated that her chosen lover was you. A mortal.

♡So while you both shared a bed, tangled in sheets and limbs with soft words and adoration oozing off you, she would kiss you softly. Whispering about how long she had waited for you, how you were the most important thing to ever exist in her eyes.

♡When the morning rose, she would press a kiss to your forehead to wake you up before she fluttered away on her adventures.

♡Morgana was determined to find something, anything to keep you by her side for as long as she lived. She refused to live without you. She simply couldn't bare the thought of it.

═══════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═══════════

♡A few more months had passed and late into the evening after you had cooked dinner, you gaze out the window worriedly waiting for Morgana. But soon the beating of wings is heard and the front door is slammed open.

♡When you turn to go to her, she rushed towards you and presses her lips towards yours. And you see a peak of heaven, a true love, a true freedom. She moves her lips against yours desperately, her nails digging into your hips almost pleading for you to let her explore your mouth.

♡And who are you to deny this goddess that your adore so dearly. You open my mouth as you move your jaw against hers, your hands catching in her beautiful black hair. Her tongue eagerly searches your mouth, exploring the land and claiming it as hers.

♡Soon you two break away heaving, a line of spit connecting you. She gazes at you with desperate eyes, searching your eyes to understand her.

♡"What is it?" You breath out, you heart racing, terrified about what could occur.

♡"I found it. A way to keep you as mine forever. But my little seedling, it comes at a cost," she murmurs back. And when Morgana sees your questioning gaze, she steps forward and cups your cheek.

♡"There are a few things to seal this. But the cost is that you will forever be bound to me. More than most fae partners are. It means body and soul you are mine. Under my control, my whim." She whispers as she leans down and presses her forehead.

♡"It was yours from the start." You utter out, closing your eyes and embracing the moment. The closeness.

♡"Then, you have to trust me." She whispers again, stroking a strand of hair from your face.

♡"You never have to ask that, my love. I trust you with every breathe that leaves my lungs and I love you with every beat of my heart." You murmur.

♡She smiles, "come, let's go to bed." She coos as she tugs your small hand and leads you to the bedroom.

═══════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═══════════

♡Within seconds, you're laid on the bed. Your clothes have been torn off by Morgana and her skillful knife. Tearing them off like you were a present and you were a gift she had longed for.

♡Her soft hands massage your doughy thighs, while her lips press soft kisses to your neck. Marking and nipping down your neck to your collarbone until she reaches the valley of your breasts.

♡Her hands move and begin to gently rub your clit all while she kisses along to your breasts until she takes a nipple into her mouth and sucks it. She moves her fingers faster in a circular motion, while her tongue circles your nipple. Her eyes fluttering closed in delight at the sounds you make.

♡She kisses along your breasts to reach your other nipple, still circling your clit. She applies more pressure before she taps it, smirking at the squeak you let out.

♡She breaks away from your breasts as she straddles you naked. Her breasts heavy and beautiful. She takes her golden blade and cuts her soft delicate skin at the top of her left breast. "Drink." She commands in a breathy voice.

♡And soon enough you sit up and latch onto the cut, you drink her golden blood. Tasting the blood of your beloved, allowing yourself to be bound to her forever. You pull away and press a small, soft kiss to the cut.

♡When you gaze up at her, she normally coffee brown eyes are now black. Her pupils dilated with lust and she pins you back down onto the bed.

♡She kisses down your navel and stomach before marvelling at you heat, her pink lips almost drooling at the sight as her eyes devour the beauty before her.

♡"Such a perfect cunt. S mine. You know that right? You'll only ever spread your legs for me. This pussy is mine. This body? Mine. You? Mine." She utters out through clenched teeth before she leans forward and licks a long stripe between your folds.

♡She soon attaches herself to your clit, suckling on the sweetest nectar known. Her hands squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples as she feasts on the delight between your legs.

♡She moves a hand down to between your legs and works two fingers into your tight pussy. She moans at how warm you are, how tight you are. She nibbles on your clit before kissing it and licking it like she was dehydrated.

♡You can't help the squeaks that leave your throat, all the noises becoming sweet music to Morgana's ears. She scissors her fingers in you, rubbing against your gspot as she suckles hard on your clit.

♡You thrash as you cum hard, and after you lay limply. Morgana smiles softly at the slight. She slides her fingers out and licks them clean.

♡"My beloved, rest. I'll clean you up. You were magnificent. A beauty that I have waited forever for and one that destroyed all my expectations of beauty. You are bound to me, my most gorgeous love." She coos to you as your eyes close and you fall into the best slumber of your life.

╚══════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════════╝

[bonecarversbestie]

An Ode to Spring

After a conversation with some friends I was inspired to write a fairytale style story about Tamlin drinking from the pool of starlight in an attempt to be happy again after Feyre left. I also drew this picture. ~1000 words Read on AO3 or below the cut

Once upon a time, in a Land of Eternal Spring, a Faerie prince was born to a cold and ruthless King and a kind and caring Queen. The prince’s name was Tamlin.

The King raised Tamlin with a firm hand, showing him the ways of the Seven Kingdoms and teaching him to rule the land of Spring without mercy. 

But Tamlin had little interest in ruling. He had a gentle heart like his mother’s, and he was drawn not to the throne room but to the fields and forests beyond it. 

He spent his days roaming the lands around the castle, writing poetry, and playing his fiddle for the birds in the trees and the mice in the fields. 

One day, Tamlin came across an enchanted pool buried deep in the forest. It was filled not with water but with liquid starlight.

He had heard stories of such a pool since he was a boy. The legends claimed that anyone who drank from the starlight waters would be happy until his last breath. But Tamlin never imbibed, choosing instead to save the magic for someone who truly needed it.

Years later, an Evil Prince from a kingdom of darkness came in the night and killed the King and Queen, forcing Tamlin to set aside his fiddle in favor of a crown that he never wanted.

Tamlin cared deeply for his people and longed to forge a new path for himself and his kingdom, but he felt trapped by the centuries of strict laws and traditions that remained from his father’s reign.

One day, an Evil Sorceress declared herself High Queen over the Seven Kingdoms.  The Sorceress Queen coveted Tamlin, but he resisted her advances, much to her displeasure. 

As punishment for his defiance, the Queen placed a curse over the Kingdoms, which only Tamlin could break by finding a human maiden with hatred in her heart for Faeries and winning her love.

For nearly fifty years, Tamlin sent his men into the Human Lands to find the Maiden, and for nearly fifty years, he was unsuccessful. Many of his men did not return, and when he ran out of soldiers, he was forced to send his friends. Soon only one remained—his most trusted courtier and emissary, Lucien, who entered Tamlin’s study bearing grave news.

 “Andras,” Lucien said, hands trembling, “is dead.” 

He had been killed by a human Maiden. 

Though Tamlin mourned his friend, Andras, he knew this Maiden was his last chance to break the curse, so he brought her to his home. The Maiden was sullen and starving, so Tamlin gave her food and fine clothes and her own room in his castle. When The Maiden said she wished to paint, Tamlin gifted her the castle’s art gallery. 

He watched as painting started to bring joy to the Maiden’s life. Her passion inspired him, stirring his long-forgotten love of music and poetry.

Tamlin found that he was falling in love with The Maiden, but as his love grew, so did his fear. He knew that to break the curse would put The Maiden’s life at great risk. And so, to save his love, he sent The Maiden away.

But the Maiden was very brave. She returned to the Faerie Lands, defeated the Sorceress Queen, and saved the Seven Kingdoms. 

Tamlin, grateful for all The Maiden had done, asked her to marry him. But she was in love with another—the Prince of Darkness, now a King and Tamlin’s sworn enemy. To add insult to injury, The Maiden took Tamlin’s last remaining friend, Lucien, with her when she left.

Though he still loved her, Tamlin could see that The Maiden was happier in her new kingdom, and let her go.

And so, Tamlin was utterly alone. His cries of anguish made the trees and mountains tremble. In his despair, he tore his castle apart, destroying books and artwork, finally smashing his beloved fiddle to pieces before leaving his home for good.

He transformed into a great golden beast and abandoned his throne, haunting his lands until they fell to ruin.

One night, he came upon the Pool of Starlight, still shimmering brightly amidst the decay. Overcome by sorrow and desperate to be happy once more, Tamlin bent his great golden head and drank from the pool. 

Warmth and comfort filled him, and he returned to his lands, renewed. But the euphoria was short-lived, and the next day, he returned to the Pool and drank from its waters again. 

For an entire year, Tamlin returned to the Pool, drinking more deeply each day, until one morning he arrived to find it empty. He had drunk it dry, and still he was not happy.

Tamlin climbed into the empty Pool, curled up at the bottom, and cried. And as he wept, his tears filled the pool with starlight once more.

As Tamlin lay in the depths of the Pool, hoping to drown, strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him from the water. Tamlin blinked at his savior, who was shining like the sun. It was Lucien, come home at last, and his presence filled Tamlin with joy. Lucien had not forsaken him. 

From behind his back, Lucien brought forth a brand new fiddle, offering it to Tamlin as a symbol of their friendship and a reminder to follow his heart.

Tamlin reached for the fiddle, and in that moment, he saw his own hand—not the golden paw of a beast, but the hand of a man.  He took the fiddle and began to play. 

It was a joyful tune of new beginnings. The birds in the trees sang, and the mice in the field danced as Tamlin walked through his lands, filling them with music once more.

After some time, the Land of Eternal Spring became a haven for artists and lost souls, ruled by Tamlin, the wandering king who had found peace. And they all lived happily until their last breaths.

The End

[pit-and-the-pen]

Hi! I am so grateful you came across my feed! You also have an incredibly extensive prompt list which is amazing btw. Could I please get a 104 and 75 with Azriel?? I have been wanting to see how they would do with a fairy, considering they are like the opposite of a bat. They’re light and airy, gorgeous wings. Illyrian wings are gorgeous too but in a dark way and I think the contrast is cool without having to make them an angel. Ya know? Thank you if you end up doing it!

Thank you so much and thank you for the request! My prompt list is left over from an event I did when I hit 100 followers and I just kept adding to it. I love the idea of the difference in their wings. Because the books have already explored a few different types of wings and I think fairy wings are absolutely gorgeous.

The reader is half High Fae, half fairy.

Hope you like it! <3

Warning: Unwelcome touching (not by Azriel), Smut (18+), protective Az!!!!

WC: ~1.7k

Divider by @cafekitsune

My  wings had always been something I was immensely proud of, sure they weren’t the stark white feathered covered ones from Day or the gorgeous bat-like wings from the Illyrains but you loved them. Translucent but pink iridescent, the membrane golden in color. Compared to my stature, short by fae standards, they easily were half of my height. 

When I moved from the Spring Court to Night, I remember feeling slightly self-conscious about them. Before the mating bond had snapped, Azriel had spent many nights reassuring me how beautiful he thought they were. How they made me special. I would sniffle into his neck, “But they let everyone know I’m only half High Fae.” He would hold my head in his hands and try not to laugh at the absurd concern. “So is Rhys, so is Cassian. Most High Fae are. That’s not a bad thing.” Light kisses were pressed to my face, “If anything it makes you more special. Something no other High Fae has.” His words calmed my raging mind. Once the mating bond had snapped, he really began to worship them. He was the first person I had let touch them. The both of us learned they truly were as sensitive as his own. It became something he could tease me with, only in the privacy of our bedroom. One touch and I would melt into his touch. 

Now, I stood in the middle of the throne room at Hewn City. Dress in midnight blue, the same exact shade as my mates siphons. The floor length gown is skin tight and the velvet was smooth under my fingers as I tried to smooth it out. 

I fidgeted slightly out of nerves. I had refused the first time Rhys offered to glamour them away, they were too much a part of who I was for me to hide them even in this vile place. But I still felt very exposed around this many unfamiliar faces.

Azriel had stepped away to join the conversation Rhys was currently having with Keir. Placing a small kiss on my temple as he walked away, “Have fun, sweetheart.” I instantly started looking for Mor, desperate for some semblance of comfort.   

I found her on the dance floor. I gave her a low bow, hand extended which she returned with a perfect curtsey. I took her hand and we began to weave through the other couples as we waltzed around the ballroom, her head thrown back with laughter. 

A pair of hands on my hips swept me out of her grasp. I let out a startled cry, expecting to be met with my favorite pair of hazel eyes. The male that had grabbed me was certainly not Azriel nor anyone I noticed. I could smell the faerie wine on his breath as he spoke in my ear, “What pretty wings.” I thanked him, my voice getting stuck like gum in my throat. I tried to pull the unknown male's hands off of my hips, even to just push them up to my waist but he just dug his hands in tighter. I yelped at the pressure and he just gave me a cocky smirk. 

“I know how sensitive Illyrian wings are, and given the shadowslingers scent all over you, I bet you do too,” He laughed at my shocked expression, “I wonder if these are just as sensitive.” By this time, we had stopped dancing. I stood frozen, bile turned my stomach as he reached a grimy hand up to stroke the edge of my wings. His rough touch made me chirp in pain, he had pitched the fragile membrane between his nails and dragged them down. 

He went to repeat the motion again when I felt the heat of him disappear entirely. When I looked around for him, I saw large black wings in front of my face. The male that had been touching me was pinned to the dance floor. Azriel’s heavy boots, holding him there by his neck. The male was desperately clutching at his leg, trying to pull him off. Azriel scoffed.

“Doesn’t feel so good to have someone touch you when you don’t want them to?” He pressed down a little harder, the muscles twitching in his leg. 

“Now, if you ever think about touching my mate, or anyone else, without their expressed interest,” His hand went to rest on truth-teller’s hilt. “You will find yourself without hands.” He lifted his leg off the male's neck and didn’t spare him a glance as he grabbed my hand and started leading me out of the ballroom. 

People jumped out of our way and I didn’t even think of saying anything to him as I felt his fury down the bond. Not at me, never at me. But for not being there to stop the hands I could still feel on my wings. He pulled us into a room, no, a closet, and I could almost make out the shape of him from the light that snuck along the frame. 

“Did he hurt you?” He asked sternly. Fae Lights flickered on, giving the room a soft glow. I shook my head and he let out a heavy exhale. He placed his forehead against mine and we just stood there as both of our breathing evened out

“Az, you didn’t have to do all of that.” I finally spoke blushing, the dim lights of the room doing nothing to protect me from his gaze.

“You don’t understand, I will do anything to protect you.” The solemnity of those words made my heart lurch and heat pool in my stomach. 

“I don’t know whether to be scared or turned on.” His laugh echoed in his chest. 

“Look at my dirty girl,” He started kissing down my neck, “Does seeing me defend you turn you on?” I whimpered when his tongue started following his kisses. 

“I don’t know, you’re the one that dragged me into a literal closet.” He growled lightly. 

“Be nice, sweet girl.” Chiding me, I felt desire and defiance flood my veins. 

“Bite me.”

 “With pleasure.” He all but purred in my ear and he was on me. His lips captured mine. Teeth captured my lower lip when I moaned into his mouth. His tongue explored my mouth, brushing against the roof of my mouth and my legs turned into jelly. He hiked my leg up to rest on his waist, using the hand on my back to stabilize me. Trailing up my leg with his free hand. 

“Fuck” He groaned when he reached the center of my thighs. Blood flowed to my cheeks. I was soaked. He didn’t waste anymore time before he slipped my panties to the side. I cried out as deft fingers found my clit and started rubbing tight, fast circles. 

My hands started to trail down to reach for his waistband but his shadows pinned my arms to my side. 

“Let me make you feel good, my love.” I moaned at his words. My moans instantly broke into a scream as I felt two of his fingers plunge into me. He curled against the rough spot and I panted out his name.  

“Az…Please, I need more.” I begged him. He just started to kiss my neck again, sucking what I knew would be angry bruises. His kisses started to trail lower, his shadows once again helping him as they slid the top of my dress down to expose my breasts. My hands went to his hair as he wrapped his lips around my nipple. Sucking the perfect amount of pressure, mixed with his fingers pistoning in and out of me. I felt myself fall apart under him. My climax racked through me hard, I sagged against his hand still on my back. 

“There you go. Good girl.” He praised me. I expected his hand to pull away but he kept working me through waves of pleasure. I whined, “Too much. Az.” I panted out the words, chest quickly rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath. 

“Can you give me one more?” His kisses started trailing lower and he unwrapped my leg from his waist. I was going to say something but it got lost on my tongue as he started to sink to his knees. He began to trail kisses up my leg as he went to throw my foot over his shoulder. 

He placed one of my hands on his head, my fingers instantly grabbing his soft locks. 

“Hold on princess.” Was the only warning I received before he dove in between my legs. I mewled at the pressure his lips sucked around my clit, still sensitive from my last orgasm. Broken versions of his name left my mouth and I tried to stop my hips from bucking. He used his free hand to guide my hips, letting me ride his face. It didn’t take long for him to have me at the edge. My eyes squeezed shut, white spotting the black behind my eyelids as he gave my clit a soft nip. That was enough to have my orgasm crashing over me. This time, my knees did buckle out from under me but Azriel’s hands were there instantly to hold me up. 

I blinked up at him. He was the picture of male satisfaction as he took in my glassy eyes. I once again went to reach for his pants but he pushed my hands away with a chuckle. 

“Later. I promise.” He said when I pouted at him. “Two isn’t enough for you, sweet girl?” I shook my head and he really laughed at that. He stood back up and smoothed out the lines in his suit. He helped me adjust my dress back into place. My hair was a lost cause, as well as my smudged makeup. He pressed a bruising kiss to my lips and when he pulled away he whispered in my ear

“Now we’re going to go back out there, covered in your scent and maybe that will remind people just exactly who they’re messing with from now on.”

[madockisser]

How does Cardan actually look in the books? Cuz I've seen a lot of fanart and he looks different every time. Sometimes he looks like the hottest guy I've seen and sometimes he looks like the bad guy from Lazy Town ☠️

cardan greenbriar appearance analysis!!

LMAOO thank u for the ask!!

as per usual when it comes to my character appearance analysis i can only speculate on facts rather than bias! so here’s what we know:

jude describes him as looking better than the rest (gentry children/ppl, keep in mind that the gentry are the richest most flamboyant of all the fae so this is certainly saying something) even when she has NO reason to feel that way abt him considering how he treated her, implying that he is FINE atleast according to jude’s standards!

but also according to the world of elfhame, if there is beauty, then it is great beauty, excruciating beauty that makes everything else seem dull in comparison. beauty that the mortal mind cannot comprehend, which is how jude describes him, so hes prob an absolute heartthrob, but honestly, there is no way for me to word it that will describe how good looking cardan must be.

like imagine the absolute hottest most beautiful most perfect guy ever and boom. cardan greenbriar.

secondly, she says his hair is black iridescent of a ravens wing, as black as midnight, and his eyes are tar-like, coal/crow black minus the gold around his irises. jude also mentions that when looking into them, she is hyper aware of the alienness of faerie. (is it possible his eyes are fully black? minus the golden irises?)

he has moon pale skin w scars across his chest and back, and he often wears kohl, and wears a scowl/sneer. she also says that he has high cheekbones sharp enough to cut out a girls heart (so cliche but i love to hear it)

he has soft pink lips, long fingers (which jude never fails to mention as often as she can) of which he wears many rings, most notably jude’s ruby ring and his greenbriar ring. he has long black lashes that are so long, they brush against his cheek.

his ears are pointed and usually bear jewels.

he has soft curly hair that falls in his eyes, and jude several times says he looks as though he’s just risen from a bed, so it’s messy but in a sexy way. and based on jude’s descriptions i don’t think it’s very long just bc i think it def would’ve been mentioned, this is considering holly blacks writing style, in the modern faerie tales two love interests have long hair and it is described that way, so i think he’s got a pretty basic cut, yk he’s a prince so he’s well groomed.

as for his animal trait, which all greenbriars have, he has a thin whiplike tail that curls and unfurls as such, it is hairless except for a soft tuft at the end. it sways and wags, revealing his emotions, it wraps itself around jude’s thigh and leg when they are intimate. adorable.

he smiles often, when he is nervous, and jude says he is very charming, which jude thinks is very dangerous. (👅)

jude says that if she didn’t know how cruel they all were, she would be just as in love w them as the rest of the gentry. she says that they are beautiful like blades forged in a divine fire. she also says that cardan is sickeningly handsome. she ALSO says that he is horrifically beautiful. (jude is the realest)

madoc says he is foppish (foppish meaning: a man that pays too much attention to his appearance. LOL) but tbh i think cardans just effortlessly beautiful. and no good w a sword.

we can assume in tcp that he’s pretty scrawny, lanky yk.

as for his height, a controversial topic since ppl cannot seem to decide if they want him to be short or tall, though i remain unbiased, jude is of average height, in tcp she says that she is suddenly struck down by his sheer height.

i believe somewhere it is said that he is about a head taller than her, making him about 6 foot+

as the series progress, he grows not just as a person, emotionally, but physically, as the land accepts him as the high king and he begins training w the roach.

jude mentions that she can feel the flex of his muscles beneath her hand, and she slides her hand against the flat plane of his stomach.

jude says many times how he looks the part of the high king, particularly at the end of twk, when he finally uses his high king powers against orlagh, and at this point we know that being the high king has effectively changed him since his being a prince.

he’s also given up his alcohol and never addictions by the end of the series so i don’t think at the end of the series he looks the same as he did, but that can be a biased take since we don’t know the severity of cardans addictions.

we can assume that by the end of the series he’s a bit more muscular, considering his training w the court of shadows and being king and whatnot, but body types are usually up to the reader!

anyway i skimmed by books for this ask (took me an hour but i did it for u anon) so i hope it’s well done enough, and that it answers your question!! sorry for not getting to it right away, i wanted to answer it well! 🫶🫶 posting more analyses soon i promise i have so many asks to get to, so im sorry if anyone waiting on me to answer them !!!

[lalacliffthorne]

💜 starshine pt. III 💜

Rhysand x Reader

part I part II part III part IV part V part VI

notes: literally no summary possible without intense spoilers. you´ll probably be able to guess what this chapter entails by just like the first few sentences (btw, it's been ages since I read the books, so I'm working on a lot of creative freedom with this one lol). fair warning: this one's angsty. like I already mentioned, it's also insanely long. so. have fun? I guess?

______________________________________________________________

Slipping through the wards felt like a tingle of ice on my skin. My breath hitched, and for a second, I expected the mountain to cave in on me, squash me as it realized someone had breached the magic binding so many to its halls.

But nothing happened.

The servant fae's dress slipped up my thighs when I slid into the dark corridors. I had caught her when she had lingered too close to the wards, golden whisps of magic seeping through the bounds and engulfing her, catching her when she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber. I had swapped our clothes before hiding her floating body behind a glamour and slipping into the dark mountain.

Something closed around my throat lightly as I moved through the shadows, stilling every time I heard a sound.

Fifty years.

Fifty years of chipping away at the wards guarding the mountain, little by little so no one would notice the small growing hole in the thickly woven magic. Fifty years of trying to be everywhere at once, moving through the courts, healing those in need before slipping away before anyone could notice. Fifty years of faeries slaughtered in numbers becoming bigger and bigger, causing rage to grow slowly in my chest.

Fifty years of dreaming of violet eyes like night skies.

I remembered the day Amarantha had caught them all like it was yesterday.

I had been staying in the Day Court, and from one second to the next, the warm summer night had turned ice cold. A darkness had placed itself over the world, the faeries in the garden had disappeared and the glow of the flowers had dimmed. An icy shiver had run down my spine, and like instinct, I had reached out for Rhys, for that familiar feeling that was always not far from the bounds of my mind, the sharp claws that tickled my soul before the deep, rich voice echoed through my head, even when their owner was on the other side of Prythian.

But there had been nothing. No presence, not even when I had called out to him. Instead, there was a harsh wall, like something, or someone, was blocking him.

I had started looking for him the day after.

☆

Following the halls deeper into the mountain, I simply listened to the tug in my chest that pulled me forward, guiding me towards the hum of power. My own responded, slithering angrily under my skin, and I pushed it down, barricading it behind walls as high as the sky.

I had learned to hide the thrum of power flooding through me a long time ago. It was what kept me hidden in the courts, allowed me to exist without anyone bothering me.

Strangely enough, it had never kept Rhys from finding me, like even the way my powers were hidden was distinct enough for him to track me down. When I had brought it up once, he had just grinned so widely, his cheeks had creased as he replied: “Starshine, I would be able to find you on nothing but instinct even if you were galaxies away.”

Back then, it had made something skip softly against my ribs as I had thrown a pillow at his head.

Now, just the memory of his voice caused a strange ache in my chest.

Amarantha had taken Rhys away from his family, his home. And I was sure that the only reason he was playing her game, bowing to her, was to protect them.

If there was one thing I had learned about him in the past century, it was that his friends, his family and his home were everything to him. And that he would do anything to keep them safe.

Even give himself up.

The tight feeling in my chest shifted, like for a second, something scratched the surface, a familiar presence growing closer, and I breathed out soundlessly.

There was no way I was going to let her break him.

Not him.

☆

The whispers from Under the Mountain had been vague, but with time, they had started to paint a picture, blurred and hazy, but clear enough to know that Amarantha had a fable for lavish nights with wine and entertainment.

I had expected that entertainment to be cruel. I had spent the last fifty years trying to protect the faeries, for Amarantha seemed to have developed a taste for keeping them like animals, all while hearing rumors about the Fae trapped Under the Mountain, forced to bow to her will.

But what was awaiting me when I slipped through the doors into the huge cavernous hall, the stench of spirits hitting me and the air pressed from my lungs – was so much worse.

There were Fae everywhere, dressed in a way that left little to the imagination. Their gazes ranged from empty to forcingly amused to petrified, but their bodies moved like they were in a trance, not their own will causing them to dance, grind on each other and do more, in plain sight for all to see.

It felt like a sick, twisted stage play, orchestrated for nothing but the embarassement and torture of the courts and one single person's amusement, one person who loomed on a dais at the back wall, sitting on a throne, dressed from head to toe in blood red.

My eyes zeroed in, and my powers surged against the walls caging them in.

Amarantha had tipped her head to the side, her golden crown glittering in the light of the torches as she watched the spectacle at the foot of the dais. Her red hair flowed over her shoulders, her long nails tapping against the armrests. There was a light amused curve to her lips, but her eyes were cold and calculating.

Somehow reigning in the magic raging under my skin, I pressed my lips together and followed her piercing gaze, down to the steps leading up to the dais -

The wind got knocked out of my lungs.

The noises, the hall around me faded as something pulsed slowly against my ribs, my heart beating like the wings of a butterfly caught in time, trying to escape from my chest as my gaze narrowed in until it was centered on the male at the foot of the dais, a picture of lazy feline confidence so familiar, I had to fight for air.

Rhys.

Suddenly, fifty years caught up with me. Fifty years of his face burned into my mind, his smile and the way his violet eyes twinkled like a glittering night sky.

Only it was gone now. The spark in his iris, the vibrancy of his eyes. His dark hair, though still impeccably styled, had lost its shine, his sunkissed skin was pale and sallow, and his smile –

Something tightened so harshly in my chest, I held my breath.

Gone was the cheeky curve of his lips, the mischievous turn of his grin and that stupidly beautiful smile. It had been replaced by a light smirk, one that was cold and cruel and –

Didn't reach his eyes.

His smile had always reached his eyes. Even when it promised violence and bloodshed and broken bones, it always translated to the way his eyes looked, to the spark in his iris, angry or furious.

Only it didn't anymore.

I tried to swallow, fight against the way something closed around my throat when I stared at Rhys and his eyes, dull and unmoving as he gazed down onto the heap at his feet, a heap -

My breath stilled, and the grip around my throat changed to vice.

It was a sprite boy. A moonwing, with feathery white hair caked with dirt, milky pale skin torn and bloody over too-thin limbs, and his wings –

His wings.

A sound built at the bottom of my throat, a strangled whimper that was swallowed by the harsh noises around me. Something clawed at my chest, a pain so heavy I almost went to my knees as I stared at what used to be thin-as-lace wings, their white membranes hanging in bloody shreds over a whipmarked back.

Quickly clamping a shaking hand over my mouth to smother the heaving sob breaking from my throat, I almost sank into the wall, my body beginning to shake. I felt something hot run over my cheek as I stared at the faerie, swaying as he tried to get to his feet without the support of his wings. His pain was mine, his despair gripping me like an iron fist, my breath trembling as my vision blurred and I whimpered.

No.

Rhysand stilled. I could see his shoulders shift. Then his head rose, eyes tearing away from the moonwing to swiftly move over the crowd, and for nothing more than a second, a fraction of a heartbeat, something flashed through his eyes, something that was buried so deep, it was nearly impossible to make out.

Like somehow, he felt my anguish, could sense a presence in the crowd that didn't belong -

The guards at the edge of the dais moved, and Rhys blinked. Then his eyes moved away from the crowd, and his back straightened when a male stepped forward, staring hungrily at the moonwing.

There was a bloody whip hanging from his hand.

My heart tightened, lips parting as nausea washed over me like a tidal wave.

But before the male could take another step, Rhys moved. His motions were quick and smooth as always when he took a step forward and picked the moonwing up by his neck, and I could see the fairie's iridescent eyes flaring with panic as he started to struggle.

Then Rhys' hand closed around his jaw.

My heart stopped and my breath stilled when the crack of bones snapping whipped through the hall.

The moonwing's body went limp, head rolling to the side.

A muscle in Rhys' cheek twitched, his face unmoving as he let the faerie slip to the ground and raised his head, turning around. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the moonwing's lifeless body as the other male moved towards him with a scowl, gripping one of the fairie's shredded wings before he turned to drag him away from the dais and into the shadows, leaving behind a pool of blood on the stone floor.

Something hot streamed over my cheeks as I fought to breathe, and magic started to push against my skin, slowly growing until I had to keep all my focus on keeping it subdued.

My eyes rose, and a cold fist closed around my heart when Rhys sat down next to Amarantha. Her hand drifted towards him, her fingernails dragging lightly over his skin, and I could see the second his eyes clouded over like he had dragged up walls, high, high, higher as Amarantha whispered something with a smile like a viper.

Rhysand nodded once, eyes trained onto the crowd like it could hide the way his shoulders shifted like his body fought to move away.

It was all I needed to straighten my spine and breathe, something beginning to burn under my skin.

☆

I had slinked into the shadows when Amarantha had risen from her throne, Rhys following suit, though there was something in the way his eyes seemed to dull even more when he moved after her.

I lost them in the maze of halls a few times, but something, like a small tug in my chest, kept pulling me back onto the right path, like the golden whisps of magic swirling under my skin had latched onto Rhys, guiding me.

Slipping around a corner, I just caught a glimpse at a door closing. Waiting for a few moments, just to make sure, I slowly started to move, avoiding lanterns and melting into the shadows as I soundlessly slid down the hall until I could disappear into the alcoven right next to the door.

Pressing my back against the cold stone walls, I leaned my temple against the wall and focused on the noises slipping from the room.

For a second, my mind was slow, struggling to place the muffled sounds that seemed to be a female's, harsh and strangely drawn –

My heart stilled.

I could feel my breath, ragged as I stared at the wall ahead, something suddenly filling my throat like the urge to be sick, to stagger away from that door and what was behind it.

I was already half pushing away from the wall when the wave of emotion hit me like a brick. Like someone inside that room had slipped up, had lost control of what kept their feelings locked deep, deep down, because what they were doing right now was a struggle in itself, a struggle like having a hand around your throat that kept you from breathing.

I didn't know how I knew it was him. I just knew that the way his emotions vibrated under my skin, causing my knees to give out and my body to silently slide down the wall to collapse to the ground as I fought for air, was uniquely his.

Rhys was drowning.

I could feel it, feel the way his sense of self and his will to fight dwindled like they were slowly dragged under water. Overrun and fought to their knees by pain.

Pain that felt like ghostly fingernails running over his skin, like actions that broke apart pieces of him and caused guilt to drown him without his limbs fighting.

It was humiliation, and repulsion, and numbness. And fear.

Fear, so overwhelming and all-consuming, it wrapped around my throat like a rope, pulling tighter and tighter as I crouched frozen at the wall, tears streaming down my cheeks and something in my chest shattering silently as I squeezed my eyes shut.

I didn't know how I long I was sitting in the shadows, nor could I place the moment when Rhys' emotions slipped away like he had found the gap in his armor and patched it back up. But the remnants of them still clung to my chest, joining into a heaviness when I could hear movements behind the door.

Quickly and with shaking hands, I pulled myself to my feet, slipping back down the hall and into the shadows at the corner to the next, tear tracks cool against my cheeks when I watched the door open.

My heart stilled as I watched Amarantha appear in the hall, slipping her dress over her legs with a satisfied smile.

Something started swirling under my skin, growing with every second. Power, golden light that raged like fire, roaring and threatening to break free, to unleash and make the mountain collapse into itself as golden light wrapped around Amarantha's throat –

Swallowing, I forced it down with trembling hands.

Not like this.

It had taken years to gather enough information, barely any whispers trickling out of the mountain. Years to figure out that she had the High Lords under her control, chained to the mountain, all while her guards wreaked havoc on the lands outside. Courts withering, faeries dying.

The children from Winter had been the last straw.

I had to find a way to free the High Lords, get back their powers. Attacking Amarantha would just risk something happening to those caught down here, or outside.

Sinking back into the shadows, I watched Amarantha disappear into the other direction. I waited until she was gone, waited some more, just to make sure. Then I slipped down the hall.

The door creaked a little when I pushed it open, and cringing lightly, I hastily slipped through, closing it behind me carefully before raising my head, and my heart skyrocketed.

Rhys was standing at the opposite wall, his bare back towards me and shoulders shifting as he tensed, going rigid. He didn't turn around when he mumbled: “Anything else?”

His deep voice took away my breath, something tightening harshly in my chest at it's roughness.

He sounded defeated.

His name tumbled from my lips before I could stop it, quiet and hoarse and a little shaky.

“Rhys.”

He froze.

I watched as his shoulders straightened. He looked like he was holding his breath, his hands closing so tightly around the shirt in his hands, his knuckles turned white as he stared at the wall ahead, and for a second, I thought I could see a tremble run over his spine.

I took a step forward, whispering: “Rhys?”

His head turned ever so slightly, like he was forcing himself not to turn around but couldn't fully control his body, and I saw the moment he caught onto my scent.

His nose flared, and his limbs went utterly and fully still, like for a second, he even stopped breathing. Then he looked over his shoulder, and I stared at him, felt something surge high in my chest when his gaze found mine.

Rhys blinked, and my bottom lip trembled when his eyes became glossy, one corner of his lips curving slowly. Then he whispered, rough voice broken: “You're not real.”

My heart clenched violently, and I swallowed, staring at him through the haze of pain. Then I moved towards him, slowly but steadily, and I could feel Rhys fight the closer I got, like the instinct to reach out and the fear of reaching right through me were battling in his chest.

Halting a few inches away, stopping to keep myself from moving even though every part of me screamed at me to get closer, I swallowed before carefully reaching out a hand.

When my fingers brushed over his arm, something rippled through Rhys' body. His eyes snapped up from where he had watched my hand almost fearfully, flying to meet mine as his glossed over ones grew wide and his lips parted.

I sniffled, nose crunching as I sent him a smile, wobbly and uneven.

“Not getting rid off me that easily, remember?”, I whispered, and Rhys' hand closed around my wrist to yank me forward, into his arms.

My heart stopped when my chest collided with his.

It felt like I was thrown into one of the dreams that had haunted me for fifty years, dreams in which he'd been there, had grinned at me and teased me and been his gloriously annoying self, dreams I had woken from with a weight on my chest pressing me down, because I could feel the memory of his presence slip through my fingers.

Only now, I didn't wake up, and there was no pressing knowledge somewhere buried in the depth of my mind that it was nothing but a dream.

No, Rhys was there, tall and solid as he wrapped himself around me, clinging to me like I could be ripped away from him any second, and my breath hitched when I could feel the way his body started to tremble.

Something small in my chest shattered silently, and barely suppressing a soft whimper as pressure rose in my throat, I hastily wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held onto him. Held onto him, his skin cool under my mine, muscles taut as a bowstring when my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders and I clung to him, and Rhys laughed, wet and desperate and causing my chest to tighten so harshly, I hiccuped. His hands grabbed at my back, my dress, one finding its way into my hair, and I fought the heavy weight on my chest and the way my voice thickened when I whispered: “Hello.”

Rhys whimpered, his trembling fingers tightening their hold like he tried to drag me closer, like I wasn't already pressed into his chest, his breath shaking like the rest of him when he buried his face in the crook of my neck, and I could feel the second his walls broke. His chest started heaving, and something warm and wet pooled on my skin.

“It's okay.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I held onto him, feeling tears roll over my cheek as the ache in my chest spread, and my voice broke a little when I whispered: “I'm real.”

A shaking sob broke from Rhys' throat, and his fingers dug into my skin when he breathed out with a shudder that shook his body. Then he pulled back, nose pressing into my hair for a second, and when I raised my head, his hand slipped up to curl around the back of my neck, and Rhys pressed his forehead against mine. His quick, unsteady breaths made my heart skip, and I forced open my eyes, staring at him and his scrunched eyebrows and the tears silently rolling over his cheeks as he fought for air.

Quickly, I slid my hands down to press them against his sides, feeling my voice crack a little when I whispered: “Breathe.”

Rhys' eyes flew open, and the world staggered when his violet iris met mine, shimmering with tears and everything shining through them, like a dam inside of him had broken. He stared at me like I was the night sky he hadn't seen for fifty years, his fingers curling into my hair.

His eyes tracked the dried tears on my cheeks, and then his body went awfully still.

For a second, Rhys gazed down at me, his throat working as he swallowed harshly and his grip slackened a little. His eyes flickered over mine, and his voice, rough and fragile, broke a little when he mumbled: “How long have you been outside?”

I tried to breathe against the heaviness in my chest as I stared up at him, losing the fight against the way my throat closed as my vision blurred and my bottom lip wobbled.

My silence was answer enough.

Rhys' fingers twitched, and I could feel him freeze, pulling back, but I dug my fingers into his bare skin and swallowed harshly, a tear running over my cheek when I whispered, voice shaking: “I'm going to kill her.”

Rhys' eyes followed the tear, widening slightly, and suddenly, he looked panicked.

“You have to leave.”

“Rhys –“

“You have to get out of here, if she finds you with me –“ His breath quickened, his wide eyes causing something to squeeze my heart harshly.

In over a hundred years, I had never seen him like this, so utterly and completely afraid; fear, sheer frantic panic rolling off him in waves, completely ungarded -

“Indeed.”

I could feel the way Rhys froze under my hands when my eyes flew over to the door.

Could feel the wave of his unbridled dread crash over me when the female in the door smiled, her eyes flashing and blood-red hair glimmering in the candle light.

“Now look at that…”

☆

My knees dragged over the stone floors as the guards hauled me into the great, cavernous hall, Amarantha sauntering after us, Rhys behind her as he struggled against the males containing him, his teeth bared even as I could feel, smell the panic rolling off of him.

I tried to reach him, but the powers raging under my skin were slowly slipping out of my control, roaring at the way I could feel him struggle.

“Drop her.” Amarantha waved her hand casually, raising her brows as the guards dumped me to the ground in the middle of the hall and turning towards Rhys.

“You know, I really thought you'd have better taste.” Her tone was mocking, her smile amused. “A servant… and a faerie no less.”

Rhys fought against the guards holding him, but I could see the way his movements were restrained, like she was containing him. He looked like he was vibrating with unbridled fury, but there was something burning under the surface as I forced myself to my feet, something that made my heart tighten harshly.

Amarantha tutted softly, smiling widely. Her eyes raked over Rhys' face, and they sharpened. Then she raised a brow.

“Oh.”

Something skipped high and harsh against my ribs, and one corner of her lips quirked.

“Now that's interesting. Is it possible…” She tipped her head to the side, and Rhys grew rigid.

“You care for her. Oh now, now.” Amarantha laughed, and it rung through the air. “How quaint.” She smiled widely, and it sent a shiver down my spine as her eyes danced.

“The mighty High Lord and the faerie. I wonder…” Sauntering towards me, she reached out, her nails lightly raking over my jaw to tip it up, and I hissed at her, causing her to chuckle.

“Well, she is feisty. Still.” Her head tipped to the side, considering me like prized piece of cattle, and Rhys' struggle grew as she slowly started to smile and raised her brows mildly as she turned to look at him.

“I think you need a reminder who you belong to.”

Moving back, she lightly dipped her head, and someone kicked the back of my legs, causing them to buckle.

Sharp pain shot through my knees when I crashed to the floor, and I could feel my dress shift. Then rough hands pushed me forward and the fabric was ripped open, slipping down my back.

My heart skipped high into my throat, and I tried to reach out on instinct to cover myself, but my wrists were seized, forced away from my body.

I could hear the sound of a struggle, and when my eyes rose, Rhys was trying to tear himself away from the guards holding him, a terrifying snarl on his face. But Amarantha just smiled and placed a finger on her lips.

Iron shackles closed around my wrists, dragging my arms apart until I was kneeling, and my fingers started shaking as I tried to contain the magic brimming under the surface, the golden light trying to break out to rage around me. I forced up my head, and Amarantha raised a brow.

There was movement at the corner of my eye. Then something struck my back with such force, my body was thrown forward.

Burning pain seared over my skin, and a scream forced its way from my throat.

My back arched, trying to twist away, pain pulsing through my body and leaving my muscles trembling, and Rhys roared.

With one mighty rip, he broke away from the guards trying to contain him, but before he could make it even a few feet, Amarantha struck, and Rhys crumbled to the ground.

“No!” I struggled against the iron chains, magic surging under my skin as pressure build behind my eyes and an angry sound ripped from my throat.

“How precious.” Amarantha sounded bored and a little disdainful, waving her hand as she turned away, and two guards grabbed Rhys' arms, dragging him up until he was kneeling, forcing his head up.

He was bleeding, his brow cut, but it was nothing compared to the anguish in his eyes as they found mine, wild and desperate.

Fighting against the tug in my chest, I squeezed my burning eyes shut for a second before opening them again, staring at him as my body trembled.

“I,”, my voice broke with strain, “can take it.”

Amarantha chuckled. “Oh dear.”

Another hit struck my back, the whip slashing the air and through my skin, and a low scream tore from my throat. Tears brimmed at the corner of my eyes, my breath trembling at the pain pulsing through my back and into my body, and from holding onto the whirling storm in my chest.

“I doubt it.” Amarantha's eyes were glimmering with wicked delight, and as the next lash hit my back, I forced my head up, my body shaking as I gritted my teeth and fought the tears pooling from my eyes as they found the male behind her.

My heart stilled.

Went silent in my chest at the way he stared at me, head pulled back by his hair as the guards forced him to watch, his eyes wide, body rigid like he was gripped in an iron fist. There was something swirling in his gaze, not just anguish; pure torment, and intertwined with it was something else, something that reached so deep, I lost my breath.

No more.

The words seemed to whisper through my mind, through the fog and the pain, growing stronger as the air around me started to flimmer.

No more.

My eyes pierced into Rhys', a tremble going through my body. Then something settled in my chest.

No more.

Golden light bloomed around me as I let go. Allowed the whispers of magic to swarm me, flittering over my back, their whispering touch gentle, and I could feel the wounds close, leaving nothing behind but even skin.

The hum seemed to grow still, until I could feel the power in every inch of my body, pulsing and whirling, and Amarantha's voice reached me, sharp as she called to her guards: “Stop her, now -“

A wave of golden light erupted from my body.

Amarantha and the guards holding me got ripped off their feet, flung through the air, the males crashing into the walls as Amarantha slammed into the steps of the dais.

And as the ground started to tremble, the mountain itself rumbling like thunder, the shackles fell of my wrists and I pushed myself to my feet, golden swirls of magic building around me like a hurricane as rage carried me.

The doors flew open as guards streamed in, dozens and dozens more, barking orders as they took position and advanced, and power surged through my body.

The ground shook, then thick vines bursted from the stone floors. They slithered through the air, wrapping themselves around the guards and flinging them through the room, wrapping them up tight and engulfing them, their screams drowned as they turned into giant trees. Weapons turned into slithering branches, closing around their owner's arms and throats, armor grew green moss like treebark as I dodged a sword blow in a swift movement. Arrows flying at me turned into bursts of petals as I dove and slipped the guard's sword out of his hand, slashing it over his throat in one precise movement, and another wave of magic pulsed through my body, sending a wave that tore the remaining guards off their feet, swords and armor clattering when they crashed into the walls and onto the floors.

Raising my head, I felt the light around me flimmer, illuminating the sword in my hand for another moment as I slowly straightened, power surging through my body as the golden whisps began to disperse and I felt my breath again, quick and heavy. Something flickered in my chest when my gaze darted over the throne room, trees growing from stone floors, their branches stretching high up the cavernous ceiling, petals drifting over the ground and unconcious guards strewn across the floor.

The rage in my chest slowly washed away, a deep exhale leaving me, and looking over my shoulder, I felt something rise in my chest.

Rhys was still kneeling on the ground, having caught himself as the guards holding him had been torn across the room. His eyes were wide as his gaze darted over the hall, then they found mine, and something skipped so harshly into my throat, I lost my breath.

Rhys was staring at me like I had ripped open the mountain to show him the stars.

Something rose in my chest, fluttering like a hurricane, and turning around, I quickly stepped over a guard's legs and held out a hand, pulling him to his feet.

Slowly straightening, Rhys stared down at me, and his eyes began to shine in a way that made my breath catch.

There was a light flash of silver from the corner of my eye. I turned my head, and for a moment, time slowed.

Without thinking, I moved, the sword slipping from my hand and clattering to the ground as my fingers closed around Rhys' elbows and dragged him with me as I turned, turned until he was facing the dais and I was in the way, the way of –

Sharp pain struck my back.

I could feel my eyes widen, how time staggered just like my heart when hot, all consuming pain slowly spread from a point somewhere right beneath my shoulder blades. Then my eyes found Rhys', and the way he stared at me, his eyes growing wide, made time fall back into place.

My knees toppled lightly when pain crashed over me like a tidal wave, and Rhys dove forward to catch me. His pupils were blown wide as a wave of panic washed over me that wasn't my own, terrifying and mindnumbing as his hands frantically moved over my body, gripping my hips, pushing up my chin.

The pulsing pain from my back seemed to slowly consume my body, and my heart stuttered.

“No.” Rhys' voice ripped its on wound through my chest, disbelieving, hollow and horrified. His eyes darted over my face, all the color draining from his features, but he looked a bit blurred, like he was drifting away from me. I tried to grab at his chest, my movements strangely slow.

“Go.” My voice sounded strained to my own ears, but I forced myself to focus on Rhys' face, trying to fight past the pain the look on his face caused in my chest. His brows twitched as his eyes, panicked and frantic, darted over my face, and I pressed: “Get. Her.”

Rhys stared at me. Then something shifted in his eyes, beginning to glow, and his head rose, a terrifying growl rumbling from his chest.

“You.”

His hands slipped away from my arms and I could feel him move past me, something skipping high in my chest as I staggered lightly, dropping to my knees.

Forcing myself to straighten, I tried to suppress a whimper when I reached my hand up my back, twisting and feeling a rough sound built in my throat at the pain the movement sent cursing through my body.

My fingers slipped over something cold, and with a pressed sound, I pulled the blade out of my body. It clattered onto the stone, and the floor swayed under my knees when for a second, all I could see were black spots dancing before my eyes as something hot ran over my pulsing back.

Behind me, I heard the sound of fighting, snarls that made the hairs at the back of my neck rise, and I forced my head up to look over my shoulder. My vision swam, and my breath stilled when I heard the sound of a body hitting the ground heavily, heart rising into my throat as my eyes focused.

Rhys was kneeling on the ground before Amarantha, a sword pressed against the back of his neck as she snarled at him, hands curled into his hair, forcing his head back. I could see the fight in the strain in his shoulders, like he was battling her in his mind, but his body was trembling.

“Oh, I do like you on your knees.” Amarantha bared her teeth, and something shifted in my chest, blooming into a soundless roar as I pushed myself to my feet.

My fingers closed around the hilt of the sword I had dropped, the heavy blade beginning to glow in my grip, and Amarantha raised her head and scoffed.

“Don't be ridiculous.” She snarled as she stepped away, Rhys caught frozen, limbs trembling in a vain effort to free himself. “I posses the powers of all the High Lords of Prythian. No iron, no steel can defeat me, not even your powers. I have killed Fae for centuries.” Her eyes flickered over me, her lips curling. “You're no match for me, little faerie.”

Golden whisps of magic began to rise around me, the branches of the trees growing out of the stone rustling with a harsh wind, the vines creaking as they slithered, bowing into my direction as I walked towards Amarantha, magic beginning to grow under my skin until I could feel it glow.

I deflected the first blow of Amarantha's sword as it came crashing down, the force making the mountain rumble. Then I swerved to the right, blade slashing through the air as the space around us started to vibrate with power and my sword began to shine brighter and brighter.

“Give up!” Amarantha's voice shook the hall like thunder. “You'll never defeat me, you're a faerie, you'll just -”

My heart rose, and the mountain sang.

When my next blow came crashing down, it splintered Amarantha's sword in two with a blast of golden power. She dropped the useless hilt, eyes growing wide as her head whipped up, and my sword sank into her chest, deeper and deeper until we were face to face.

"I'm not just any faerie,”, I whispered.

A surge of power rippled through the air when I pulled the sword from Amarantha's chest, and I could feel the wards trembling. Then they shattered, the whole mountain groaning as I whirled around and swung the sword, the blade whizzing through the air and cleanly cutting off Amarantha's head.

Blood spattered, and with a thud, the female's lifeless body dropped to the ground.

Breathing heavily, I straightened, and my sword clattered as it hit the floor. The golden shimmer around me pulled back into my body, and suddenly, the world tilted.

My knees gave out, and I would have crashed down the steps if I hadn't been caught, arms wrapping around me and a familiar scent washing over me, causing my heart to jump weakly against my ribs.

I thought I heard a voice, deep and familiar and utterly panicked, calling my name as a warm hand closed around the side of my face, shaking me. But my lids were suddenly heavy, blinking becoming harder with the second. My body felt a bit like it was beginning to float; no more pain, only a strange, calm feeling, my limbs too heavy to move.

Through the fog, I heard the voice, thick and trembling, words not quite reaching me. Then something warm pressed against my temple, nudging my cheek.

“Stay with me.”

☆

Stay with me.

My eyes opened with a flutter, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

My gaze was blurry at first, but I thought I saw a high ceiling, far above me, the branches of trees, and felt arms holding me, propping me up against a warm, solid body that suddenly grew rigid.

Blinking, I breathed out before letting my head slowly roll to the side, and my eyes met another pair.

My heart skipped softly against my ribs at the sight of violet, mixed with starlight in eyes gleaming with tears, widening when they found mine as their owner became completely still.

I blinked, feeling slowly seeping back into my body, and a small sound broke from the back of my throat.

“Ow,”, I mumbled softly.

Rhys stared at me. Stared from shimmering eyes that were blown wide, wet tear tracks on his cheeks. His hand cradling my jaw was trembling, and something shifted gently in my chest at the way he seemed to fight for air. Then he blinked, and the tears in his eyes welled as his lips curved and a sobbed laugh left him, deep and shaking my body as Rhys dropped his head, his arms slipping around me until he was clinging to me, holding me to his chest as he pressed his nose against my temple.

I could feel his shuddering exhale, and how tears began to soak my hair, and something rose in my chest, fluttering wildly as it surged and pressure built behind my eyes, my fingers trembling as I curled them into his arm holding me.

Rhys' grip tightened, then he lightly pulled back his head. His hand slipped to rest against the side of my neck, and my breath hitched, stumbling until it stilled when he slowly started to smile at me. Smiled brighter and brighter, wide and radiant until deep creases formed in his cheeks and his violet eyes twinkled like a sky full of stars, and his voice was quiet and a bit hoarse when Rhys whispered thickly: “Hello, starshine.”

☆

Stepping out into the cool morning air, I breathed in deeply, closing my eyes for a second.

My body was still aching a little, my head thrumming, but it was duller now, like it was slowly ebbing away. The magic under my skin was no longer raging and whirling, instead buzzing softly from the healing I had done in the past few hours, Fae and faeries alike.

The wards had come down, the second Amarantha had died. Shortly after, the doors to the hall had burst open, and Rhys had gripped me tighter when all the High Lords had stormed inside, their newly returned powers thrumming just like the one's of the male holding me.

He had reluctantly left me alone, only after several insurances that I was fine and some mild teasing threats, his swagger returning to him as his mask slipped into place as he had joined the High Lords standing over Amarantha's body, her severed head turned towards the ceiling, her eyes staring lifelessly into the air.

Dropping my shoulders and stretching them slowly, my skin tingled gently right under my shoulder blades, and like instinct, I reached back, twisting my arm until I could brush my fingers over the spot where only a few hours ago, a dagger had nearly, maybe taken my life.

The skin was soft there now, and unblemished, as Rhys had showed me with a quick glimpse into my head.

Like there had never been any wound in the first place.

Letting my arm fall back to my side, I breathed out again before turning, and my heart did a soft skip when my gaze landed on the familiar male a bit away, standing on a ledge, head tipped back as he stared up at the sky that was slowly turning from a pale blue into a soft pink.

My heart skipped, and I hesitated for a second, then I carefully stepped onto the big ledge and softly called: “Rhys?”

My quiet voice carried through the cool air, and when he looked over his shoulder, my chest tightened harshly.

Tears were streaming over his face, his eyes shimmering as they reflected the sky, and I moved, darting towards him and stretching to slip my arms around his shoulders.

Rhys breathed out with a shudder, and his hands closed around my waist, pulling me tightly into his chest. Then he turned his head and buried his face in the crook of my neck. I could feel his tears drip onto my skin as soundless sobs left his body trembling, and my heart tightened harshly as my eyes welled.

Quickly pressing my nose against his shoulder, I let his pain wash over me, my chest aching as tears trickled over my cheeks and I buried my fingers in his hair.

By the time Rhys' sobs had faded away and the tears on my shoulder had dried as he just held me, the sun had started to rise on the horizon.

Carefully pulling back a bit, I looked up at him, finding his eyes already on my face, raw with emotion I couldn't quite decipher.

“Go home,”, I whispered softly, and a shudder went through Rhys' body, his hands tightening their grip around my waist for a moment.

His eyes searched mine, then he blinked.

“Come with me.”

I blinked, feeling my lips part in surprise as I stared up at him. There was no hesitation in his eyes, no doubt, nothing. Just something that looked a bit like a soft, feverish plea.

I blinked, and warmth slowly spread through my body, something closing gently around my throat.

“I can't,”, I mumbled, and Rhys' grip loosened, causing me to quickly curl my fingers into his shirt.

“No, I just,”, I huffed a little, frowning at him, "not yet." Breathing out, I tipped my head to the side and sent him a soft, helpless smile. “There are still so many in there who need my help. High Fae and faeries alike. And in the courts. I can't just –“

Rhys exhaled, and my heart skipped into my throat when he dropped his head to rest his forehead against mine, his hands gently closing around my waist.

“You're awfully inconsistent, you know that?”, he whispered, and his rough voice sent a soft tingle over my skin. “You claim to not like the High Fae, and yet, you're still helping them.”

“I know.” I gently tapped my finger against his chest. “I mean, I constantly help you, what's that all about?"

Rhys huffed, and I grinned lightly before pulling back and mumbling: “They've suffered enough for a while.”

Rhys blinked, and his eyes moved over my face, something beginning to glow gently in his iris.

“Promise that when you're finished, you'll come to Velaris.”

Staring up at him, I felt my heart flutter genly against my ribs. Then I blinked and slowly smiled, soft and cheeky.

“I promise.”

Rhys' eyes flickered over mine, and something tightened in my chest, my heart skipping when I quickly said: “Promise you'll find me if you need me?”

The male's gaze moved over my face, and slowly, one corner of his lips rose, just the tiniest bit.

“Promise,”, he mumbled, his deep voice sending a soft tingle down my spine, and I breathed out, a weight slipping from my shoulders.

For a second, I stared up at him, then, before I could stop myself, I stretched to press my lips onto his cheek.

Rhys' grip around me tightened, and my heart rose into my throat when I allowed myself to linger for just a second. Then I let myself sink back to the ground, and my breath hitched when Rhys dropped his head like he was trying to follow me.

The male blinked and slowly straightened again, staring down at me, a look in his eyes that made my chest squeeze gently.

Slowly, I took a step backwards, sending him a soft, crooked smile as I lightly poked his ribs.

“Go.” Warmth spread through my chest as I raised my brows. “They've been waiting long enough.”

Rhys exhaled, a weight seeming to slip from his shoulders, and I turned around. I could feel his eyes track me as I made my way back towards the entrance in the mountain.

When I looked back before stepping through, he was gone like the night breeze.

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @stayinglow-exploringworlds @tcris2020

[tamlinweek]

A little Suriel told us that you all are looking forward to getting the 2025 Tamlin Week prompts and we are here to deliver.

In The Suriel article above, all fourteen prompts (two per day) are hidden within the text. Let’s see if our clever Tamlin community can come together and uncover the hidden themes. We’ll also give you a hint: some prompts have combined wording.

Let us know in the comments what you think it is! We’ll be keeping an eye on your progress and adding to the tally 😉

We’ll reveal the official prompt list in one week.

PROMPTS UNCOVERED: 11/14

Below the cut, you will find a text version of the article for easier readability.

CHANGING SEASONS PROMPTS THE BEGINNING OF SPRING PREPARATIONS

By THE SURIEL

Artisans from far and wide have been seen crossing over into the Spring Court to prepare for the upcoming celebrations. As is tradition, and part of the Court’s Great Mythology, every Spring Equinox, the Great Rite must be performed by High Lord Tamlin. It is also tradition to spend the entire week before showing appreciation for all the Flower Prince has done for his people (and for blessing our eyes, oh yes). Creatures and faeries from every corner of Prythian are invited to worship the Mother and feed the powers of our land.

I remember when I was but a little fate-mite, a whirling ball of magic rolling across the land. Prythian was not as it was today, especially in this flourishing Court. Once upon a time, in Dark Spring, we begged the Mother for forgiveness in hopes not to be annihilated on the spot. Shout out to my brother, the Turiel. You were the worst, and I’ll always remember that.

Where was I? Oh, yes.

Over the course of the coming months, we expect the Spring Court to change and flourish right before our eyes. We expect a mass migration of celebrants, some hoping to secure lodging before all the inns are booked up, and the molehills are overflowing with guests. 

We’d also like to clarify in light of last year’s spy debacle that the human was not a from an alternate universe, but just a quirky new addition to our handsome High Lord’s polycule alongside Feyre, Lucien, Rhysand, Elain, Nesta, Azriel, Cassian, Beron, Eris, Jurian, and many more. For legal reasons, we are magically bound to say that it is possible that these famous faces may only share platonic relationships with High Lord Tamlin.

We’re also looking forward to this year’s performance from Tamlin’s warband. We are still reeling from the addition of fire breathers—what a beautiful way to integrate Spring Court emissary Lucien Vanserra’s heritage. 

If you or anyone you know is planning to spend your free days in Spring, The Suriel is continuously updating our collection of High Lord sightings. There can never be enough portraits of Tamlin’s glossy golden hair, his rippling muscles, and don’t you just want to take a bite out of his luscious chest—Sorry, sorry, our sprouts, we are getting ahead of ourselves, but sharing is caring, after all.

Stay tuned for more updates on Spring Court, and our favourite High Lord, Tamlin!

THE SURIEL is a Prythian Publishing Prize winner for several centuries in a row. They have been reporting the nation’s hottest celebrity news since the beginning of time, long before the lands had names. They currently reside in the Spring Court. If you have tea to spill, and for any advertising requests, sacrifice your freshest chicken in the Western Forest. The Suriel also responds to scenes of egging Beron’s house.