#tithe series
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HELP ME BUY A BOOK
help me guys I need opinions on what book to buy and why...
PLEASE PLEASE REBLOG for a bigger sample as I've only done the poll for ONE DAY SO I NEED VOTES I BEG <333
#TY TY FOR ALL THE HELP#HELP#poll#tumblr poll#tumblr polls#tumblr aesthetic#tumblr girl aesthetic#tumblr girl#books#bookish#booklr#bookblr#booktok#yellowface#r f kuang#holly jackson#aggtm#the reappearance of rachel price#tithe#tithe series#tfota#the folk of the air#holly black#a modern tale of faerie#valiant#ironside#new books
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Kaye Ë𦹠âęł ŕť had some inspiration as Iâm rereading my fav series :> photo one is glamoured Kaye and photo two is pixie Kaye!
#Kaye Fierch#tithe series#holly black#fanart#wip stuff#character art#pixie#faerie#fairy art#modern faerie tales
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Ive decided to start posting Unwind fanart here too!! and I KNOW. I KNOW MY MIRACOLINA DEISGN ISNT CANNON. I KNOW đ
#unwind dystology#unwind series#neal shusterman#lev calder#lev tashi'ne#miracolina roselli#idiots in love#clapper#tithe
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No real spoilers for Tithes here, but I love that GW could've very much gone further with the time jump between Pariah Nexus and it, but chose to say "no, there's not been enough time to give Sa'kan a robot arm, he needs to keep being a chewtoy".
It's like they've realized that people like Dante, and the current status of Cato and Guilliman and said "every space marine needs to go here" and points to the Disco Elysium chair
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Prologue - Rebirth.
Eight hundred years ago, a king made a sacrifice.
CWs: Sacrifice, murder, painful transformation.
[Now on AO3]
--
Seventy-seven lives.Â
Not that much, in the long term. Less than a village. Less than a regiment of men in an army. Two digits.Â
Seventy-seven men.Â
More than seventy-seven lives would be affected. These men had friends, wives, children, parents, siblings. Lives cut short too soon.Â
Seventy-seven innocents, taken to a mountaintop.Â
Seventy-seven lambs.
Seventy-seven slaughtered.Â
Montresor stood among the bodies, breathing heavily.Â
It had not been easy.Â
The men had been his own soldiers. Many of them had served under him for a decade or more.Â
On the battlefield, Montresor had sacrificed hundreds of his own men. Possibly more. It had been in the name of strategy. Of victory. And it had worked. Their deaths were not in vain, as they died under his command to secure victory for those who mattered. Eventually, the victories of those in charge became his own.Â
Many of the men whose bodies laid before him tonight had been instrumental in the coup that made him king. Their bravery and valor and willingness to sacrifice the lives of others had brought him here.Â
And yet, for all those whose deaths he had caused, to slit the throats of his own men was difficult.Â
His arms were heavy. The dagger he had brought was dulled by the blood caked onto it. His heart was heavy, like the weight of every man he had slain laid upon it.Â
There was one more. The seventy-seventh. Like the others, he stood before the ornate metal basin.Â
Magic was a tricky thing. On his own, without the assistance he was receiving, Montresor would have collapsed under the strain of putting so many under his thrall. These efforts were already taking their toll on him.
The final sacrifice was the hardest. It had to be. It was necessary.Â
The general stared ahead. His hair was tied back, and the sweat and blood couldnât conceal the scent of lavender that always lingered around him.Â
He was small, before Montresor. Everyone was. But the way the general carried himself, you would never know.Â
He had always been a lucky man. Montresor had so often spoken of him as a good luck token, his own rabbitâs foot. Any battle with him leading the men was sure to end in victory.Â
These sacrifices were necessary. He had committed to this. He had sworn. There was one more throat to slit.Â
The man before Montresor had been Lusalle Luchesi, once. Lusalle. His own.Â
And perhaps it was cowardice, or perhaps it was a lingering tenderness. He wouldnât know. He wouldnât ruminate. He would do what he could to cast the memories from his mind. But whatever the reason, Montresor dropped the thrall once his arm was around the generalâs chest; holding him in place. He held Lusalle still, even as he yelled, as he panicked and began pleading to Montresor, asking him those horrible questions like why and for what purpose?Â
Montresor was silent as the blade ran across the generalâs throat. As his throat spilled into the bowl. Like all the others. As his body fell down at Montresorâs feet, making its final noises.Â
Montresor did not weep.Â
He would, later, alone. And he would weep, and be done. He would have better things to do than shed tears.Â
But for now, he stood. Removed his gauntlets, exposing his hands to the cool night air.Â
As he had been told to, Montresor laid his gauntlets aside. Took his hands, and dipped them into the basin.Â
The blood was still warm.Â
When he drew his hands up, the night air stung them. The blood dripped down to his wrists, under his clothes, drying onto his skin.Â
He brought his hands up to his mouth. The blood was sickly and metallic as it entered his mouth, and he choked it down.Â
Another. His hands dipped back into the basin. He drew them to his mouth.Â
And again.
And again.
And again.
Over and over, until his knuckles scraped the bottom of the basalt, until the last of the blood had long since seeped into the porous stone.Â
And when it was done, the pain began. Like a shot of white-hot agony tearing through his mind, burning all that it passed. Down the back of his throat, the pain snaked into his spine, and traced veins and muscles as Montresor collapsed to his knees.Â
He bled. His canines fell into his bloodied hands, replaced with ones that were sharper, stronger. His body remolded itself, becoming something else. His eyes, once a brown so deep they were almost black, opened again as a deep crimson.
The blood he coughed up- his own, already the dulled black ichor of one long-dead- did not return to him. His skin paled, a near paper-white pallor left behind.Â
When he closed his eyes again, the pain returned, and with it came visions. Shapes. Colours. Incomprehensible gifts. Some, he thought he could perhaps understand parts of. Others were esoteric and alien to him. Flashes of red. A sword. A pipe organ. A child. Movement. Power. Patience. But power, he understood. Patience, and power beyond his wildest dreams would come to him. The visions were barely comprehensible. But all of a sudden, they left, and with them went the pain.Â
And there he was.Â
King Montresor Valdemar, knelt before a basin of stone, taking unnecessary gasps of air. Surrounded by seventy-six bodies, and one laid over his knees, staring up at the night sky.Â
Montresor took Lusalleâs body in his arms. The dagger laid there on the mountainâs stone, long forgotten. They looked up at the sky together.Â
The stars were gone.Â
The moon was blood-red.Â
Just over his kingdom. Just for this night. Just as heâd agreed.Â
He was near-immortal now. He had killed seventy-seven men. He was a being that defied death. His power was more than any man could dream of, and more would come to him. The only man who could have slain him was cradled, dead, in his arms. In mere moments, he would turn around, making his way back down to his castle.Â
And yet, staring up at the moon that stared back, he felt something he would never have to feel ever again.Â
Montresor felt small.Â
#The Tithe of Blood#ask to tag#oc: lord montresor valdemar#writing#writeblr#whump writing#<- not necessarily? not sure how much of this story correlates to whump tbh#but its my writing tag so!#anways if youre reading down here. hi. starting a series rn :) The Tithe of Blood is the name of it and itll be in my pinned soon#also if you know what any of those symbols in his vision correlate to you get a prize.
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đ¸ đ¸ đ¸ Ă đ¸ đŚ đ¸ Ă đ¸ đ¸ đ¸
kind of tithe themed stimboard
#AUGHHH im in my tmft phase again#i just like edgy nonsensical mildly bigoted bullshit...#one of my favorite series but i can never reccomend it to people because you HAVE to read it within the cultural context it was written in#it was written in 2002! and its trying to appeal to a very specific audience!#its not a thing where you can turn your brain off and enjoy it despite the bigotry#you have to engage with its problematic aspects because they are a fundamental part of the text...#especially in valiant? bitch!#anyways READ THE TITHE SERIES RIGHT NOW DO IT THIS SECOND PLEASE#tithe#tmft#holly black#depollute me pretty baby [my boards]#bugs#stim#stimboard#wolf#grave#dark#picture#forest#wings#camera#cemetary#night#black#brown#green#Spotify
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Before I started reading The Folk of the Air series, I started with The Modern Faerie Tales series and I still think itâs my favorite series by Holly Black.
#godzilla reads#the modern faerie tales#holly black#tithe#valiant#Ironside#book blog#book series#books and flowers#fairy books#booklr#bookworm#reading
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Aren't we all a little like Kaye? Who remembers our green skinned, ink drop eyed pixie with moth wings? đŚ
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Most character opinion bingos!
@sirofreak
Sorry I got to this so late, I got distracted and then was too busy
Grace:
Lev:
#i love Lev dont get me wrong but the fact that his arc is based around his perception of religion and it's involvement of unwinding is not#something I understand well because ive never been a religious person#but! i can see how people relate to him and his journey! because it can be a metaphor for many other things#he is a very well written character and I love him for it#his personality is great and the series would not be the same without him and his perspective of tithing/unwinding#anywho sorry for the long tags#unwind#unwind dystology#lev calder#lev garrity#grace skinner#grace unwind#lev unwind#unwholly#unsouled#undivided
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Review:Â A Spell for Heartsickness (The Rune Tithe #1) by Alastair ReevesÂ
Rating: 3.5đ Spoilers đ¨Â A Spell for Heartsickness (The Rune Tithe #1) by Alastair Reeves is a fantasy romance or romantasy written by an author Iâve never read before.  The story is preceded by a lengthy authorâs note, which I always read. This one was informative, but somewhat overly detailed, especially equating curses to debilitating illnesses. More on this later. For two thirds of thisâŚ
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#newbookreleases#A MelanieM Review#author Alastair Reeves#first in a series#LGBTGIA fantasy romance#Review: A Spell for Heartsickness (The Rune Tithe 1) by Alastair Reeves
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4K â Assassinâs Creed Origins â A Tithe By Any Other Name â Side Quest â...
#Bayek #AssassinsCreedOrigins #Origins #AssassinsCreed #AssassinsCreedSeries #ATitheByAnyOtherName #SideQuest #Level10 #PlayStation #PlayStation5 #UBISOFT
#youtube#Bayek#Assassin's Creed Origins#Origins#Assassin's Creed#Assassin's Creed Series#A Tithe By Any Other Name#Side Quest#Level 10#PlayStation#PlayStation 5#UBISOFT
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anyone know what the tithe series by holly blck is about? tryna do some reasearch here. is it similar to the folk of the air or completely different? is there a romance subplot (not that I want there to be but I wanna know if there is? who's the main character? who's the love intefest, if any? I really appreciate any help !!
#collecting info so hard ibsr#help guys#really appreciate#HELP#books#bookish#booklr#bookblr#book community#holly black#the folk of the air#tfota#tithe series#tithe#valiant#ironside#the cruel prince#the modern tale of faerie#booktok#new books#book aesthetic#reading#reading aesthetic#faerie#fantasy#fantasy books#book struggles#girl problems#bookworm
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Biblical Tithe Series: Part 8: Is the Tithe Only Food?
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#biblicalscriptures#tithe#series#part 8#food#faithishearing#thegodculture#anchoredwithhisword#youtube
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doodles :D !!
i saw a head canon abt Conner playing basketball and i COULDNT stop thinking about itâŚ. So i drew it :)
+ baseball Lev !!!
Im working on another drawing like the last two that arent doodles & are fully shaded, but idk when ill finish it, and i KINDA wanna post daily Unwind stuff but idk how long thatll last before i get burned out/art block
#unwind series#unwind dystology#unwind art#lev calder#lev tashi'ne#tithe#tithe lev#connor lassiter#Akron Awol#neal shusterman
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Of Nightmares and Memories |seven| Azriel X reader
Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
A/N: Little bit of a filler, setting up for the second act. I'm very excited for you guys to see where this is going <3
The week that she was gone was more miserable than most. Your fae healing would kick in, leaving little trace of Tamlinâs brutality, only for him to return and beat you to a pulp once more. You were starting to lose track of the days, only seeming to exist in between Tamlinâs visits, when Feyre reappeared. Not looking worse for wear, but instead looking a little lighter than when she left, but filled with the same amount of anxiety.Â
You could hear Tamlin lock her away into the study, questioning her on everything about the Night Court. Feyre saw so little though, you knew that. Your brother wouldnât put the Court at risk by bringing her anywhere but the Moonstone Palace. But she met with Mor, and that was enough to bring me to my knees. Just knowing she was alive was enough. But then Feyre mentioned Cassian and Azriel and tears started to flow freely. Because they were alive and in one piece. After everything they made it, they were alive and well. Rhys wouldnât have mentioned them otherwise.Â
You sobbed on the floor of your rooms, curled in a ball. Because he lived. Despite it all, Azriel lived. And maybe, somehow you would see him again. Maybe, just maybe, you would be able to escape and make it home. Bide your time until the faebane was out of your system enough to reach out to Rhys for help.Â
The Tithe came a week later. You hadnât left your rooms in months, hadnât felt the sun on your face. Food was brought to you by Alis, sometimes Feyre would sneak into your rooms for a moment. You wish she wouldâve after she returned from the Night Court so you could learn how Rhys and Mor were first hand, instead of having to strain to hear it all.Â
You watched from my window as Feyre sat beside Tamlin, looking like the picture of a Spring Court lady. It made you sick. She belonged here just as much as you did. You couldnât hear from where you stood, but you could see them just fine. The way half of the people barely had enough to pay the Tithe. It broke your heart, Tamlin should have delayed it again. Should have given his people more than three months to recover from the fifty years of pain and suffering they had to endure. But Tamlin was proud, too proud.Â
So when Feyre gave her jewels to a water wraith, you knew he would be furious. You could hear it over the dinner that followed. The way they snapped at one another, and then silence, like Feyre left the room.Â
It was hours before you heard the sound of what seemed like an explosion. You couldn't move to find out what happened, so you strained my ears to hear whatever you could. All you could hear was Tamlin apologizing over and over again to Feyre. He keeps promising heâll do better, keeps promising theyâll get through this and that things will change. You wonder if she knows itâs all a lie?Â
Rhys comes for her a few weeks later. In the middle of the night, while youâre all fast asleep. You donât wake until Tamlin comes bursting into your rooms, demanding to know how he can get Rhys to release Feyre from their bargain. When you tell him that your stubborn brother would rather die than give Tamlin something he wanted, he beat you. And then beat you some more, until you were nothing but a bloodied mess on the floor.Â
He was waiting by an oak tree at the end of the week. Your body was sore and broken, but healing slowly. Rhys appeared with Feyre in tow, looking exhausted as always. You were beginning to truly worry about her, because it was obvious she was a shell of the human you met months ago. A shell of the one who slapped Tamlin and dared to go against Amerantha.Â
Now she was nothing. And there was nothing I could do about it, and hardly anything Rhys could do in one week every month. He could try to get her back, but in the end she would return her and fall deeper and deeper. She was right when she told Tamlin she was drowning.Â
All hell broke loose the following day though.Â
Though Ianthe returned, you were finally allowed to leave your rooms for a time. You found Feyre standing by the front door, begging Tamlin to take her with him on his trip. He refused, of course, leaving her alone in the doorway. When Feyre said she was coming whether Tamlin liked it or not, you could see something change in him. Thatâs when she slammed against an invisible wall. Thatâs when you realized we were both fucked.Â
She begged and begged, but he kept moving. He mounted his horse and rode away. Lucien lingered for a moment, saying something I couldnât quite make out from the ringing in my own ears. She was going to rip herself apart or die in this manor house.Â
You watched as Lucien and Tamlin disappeared. Watched as Feyre crumbled in on herself and slowly began to lose control. Darkness seeped out of her, then fire and ice. She was wrapping herself in a cocoon of it as she crashed to the floor. your heart broke, because you had no power to help her.Â
Alis called her name, begging her to calm down. But Feyre couldnât hear her, or chose not to. You felt the need to vomit as I watched on, feeling more helpless than you ever had before.
âHelp her!â Alis demanded, finally seeing you standing there.Â
âI canât,â you choked out, âI have no power. Your masterâŚ.heâŚI canât do anything.âÂ
Feyre was going to die. There would be nothing left of her by the time Tamlin and Lucien made it back here. She would be nothing but a pile of ashes at this rate. you felt utterly sick, and angry. Angry that you had no power left to help, angry that youâd been locked away too for too long. Angry that Tamlin would even think about locking Feyre away like this, knowing that she would react poorly.Â
But reacting poorly is an understatement. She was going to bring the whole place down around us. We would all die at her hand, and she wouldnât mean to do it. She would topple the Spring Court tonight, without meaning to do it. And you would finally be free, in life or in death.Â
But then the very foundations shuttered, and the sight of blonde hair filled my eyes. you fell to your knees, because it was Mor, whole and beautiful as ever. She couldnât see you from where you were, but you could see her as she reached into the cocoon of darkness and pulled Feyre out.Â
âGo,â Alis whispered to me, âGo with them.âÂ
You shook your head, unable to move. Surely it couldnât be that simple. Surely there would be something else to stop me from leaving. you couldnât even make it to the gate before. Why would now be any different?Â
âPlease-please take care of her,â Alis begged Mor, âTake care of them both.â
âBoth?â Mor questioned.Â
It was then, with the thought of Azriel and finally returning home to Valaris. Finally being able to fly again and feel the sun and wind on my face. Finally being able to feel Cassianâs bone crushing hugs, and RhysâŚ.oh Rhys. It was only then that you got to your feet and moved from your hiding spot.Â
Mor faltered upon seeing me. You thought she might even drop Feyre as a sob ripped from her lips. Feyre seemed to be unconscious in the womanâs arms, unaware of what was happening. But Mor knew, the second she laid eyes upon me, she knew. Even though my body had changed and Iâd matured, she still saw me.Â
âHow is this possible?â She questioned, taking a small step towards me.Â
âYou donât have time,â Alis warned, âSomeone will have alerted the High Lord, heâll be on his way.â
âTake me home Mor,â you beg, âPlease Mor, take me home.â
âConsider yourselves very, very lucky that your High Lord was not here when we arrived,â Mor warned.Â
With tears in her eyes, Mor nodded towards me and took a step towards the door. Feyre finally took in a breath, deep and shuttering. You swallowed hard and followed them out of the door. Mor told Feyre that nothing was going to keep them from her, and that Rhys shattered the shields without a second thought.Â
What would he do when he realized what else he freed? Would he be happy to see you again after so many years? Or would it be too painful for him, after moving on hundreds of years ago. Because surely they all moved on. Surely they didnât think about you the way you thought of all of them. Surely they didnât spend every day mourning the life you could have had if Tamlin hadnât told his father and brothers where to find you that day, or if Rhys hadnât told Tamlin, or if heâd simply showed up to meet you that day. So many things could be different.Â
âHold onto me,â Mor told you , tears streaming down her face.Â
You grasp onto her arm and hold tightly to it as she winnows you. Your eyes strain against the bright light that floods your vision. Rhys is leaning against a tree, and straightens the second he sees the three of you. He falters, just as Mor had. Eyes blinking furiously as if heâs trying to clear his head.Â
âYou-âÂ
âRhys,â your voice cracks, âItâs me. I promise.â
âI-â He shakes his head, âYouâre dead.â
âNo,â You whisper to him, âThatâs what they wanted you to think. Iâve been locked away this whole time.â
He reaches for you. Like youâre a ghost thatâs going to disappear the second he touches you. Only you donât, because youâre living and breathing. He breaks then, tears streaming down his face as he pulls you into a tight hug.Â
âWe need to move, Rhys,â Mor reminds him, âThe faster weâre in the Night Court, the better.â
âTake me home,â You say again, âI just want to go home.âÂ
âOh, Little Star,â for the first time in hundreds of years, the name is said with such love and adoration. You donât flinch when you hear it, you donât expect it to be accompanied by a blow. Because you know youâre safe now. Safe and loved and protected, âLetâs go home.â
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#acomaf#acotar#acotar fanfiction#azriel#azriel x you#azriel x reader#acotar fic#azriel acotar#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger
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Contributing some of the thoughts I've had to the active conversation about the world building laws of mating bonds in SJM's universe!
Here is the very first on page introduction of the *highly* discussed term mate in Sarah J. Maas's world. I think it's quite important to consider both A. The fact that Wyrd, Urd, and The Mother, the creator of Fate and all creation, is the same entity under different names in the three different worlds and B. Prythian is arguably the most popular/read/analyzed series of SJM, but functions as the outlier/rule-breaker when it comes to mates. The chronological development is worth noting:
Our first ever mates in the multiverse are Emrys and Malaki. They are a same sex couple! Mated and husbands. Right off the bat, mates are described as an unbreakable bond, deeper than marriage, that lasted beyond death. Erilea and the world in Throne of Glass, in addition to their gods, is governed by and founded by Wyrd, which is not a word made up by SJM, but the Anglo-Saxon concept of fate:
In Crescent City, we discover a few things. One, that the Fae definition for mates is exactly the same as it is in Throne of Glass. A bond deeper than marriage. However, we also know that the shifters are in fact also the Fae originating from Erilea, and that their mates are their true lovers pre-destined by Urd. Then there are the breeding mates that the Asteri force in the archangels- akin to forcing animals to breed in a zoo.
And of course, the fact that Urd is in fact Wyrd. Who is, in fact, The Mother.
Urd, Wyrd, and the Mother. Fate. Destiny. Not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation.
It is not the Mother's intention to breed. It is the Mother's intention to guide ones fate and destiny. To match true, soul bonded lovers in a connection that lives beyond death. Procreation does not play a role, and there is no particular drive for such things in Throne of Glass or Crescent City. M/M mates set the stage. Crescent City deals with fertility, sterilization, and denounces any living soul being valued or paired for the goal of breeding.
Starfall. Will-o-the-wisps. Souls that stay connected as they journey from one life, one world, to the next.
And then we get to Prythian, where the pattern breaks. And suddenly, mating bonds are not soul bonded pairs. They are not ones true lover. They are, in fact, more in line with what the Asteri have created: breeding animals in a zoo. People who do not love each other are forced to be together. Poor pairs that are not a match on a soul level. A threat of violence if a woman rejects their mate. And even that term, rejection, is one only brought up in Prythian. It brings my attention to another interesting passage in HoFaS:
Consent. Yes, this is talking about consent for the tithe and the giving of power. However, I think it's incredibly noteworthy that the Asteri have a goal of getting around the tricky issue of consent to enact their goals. They have found a way around that on Midgard.
They also are able to force "mates" amongst the archangels without their consent.
How interesting that in Prythian, the one world where the Cauldron lives, the language of creation, the object of the Mother, Urd, Wyrd, and fate has been tampered with by the Asteri, the zoo animal breeding masters, consent is also required for a mating bond.
This does not exist on the other worlds. I believe by the time the Asteri reached Midgard, they figured out a way to circumvent consent not only for taking power, but also, the creation of the Archangels who are brainwashed from a young age to serve the Asteri and give up their consent.
I know a lot of people don't like to have this conversation, because it's a threat to the existing mates on Prythian. Obviously I'm an Elriel, so I don't think that's true. As I believe myself and many others have mentioned before, Elain's mating bond also breaks pattern. She is immediately snapped with her mate the second they lock eyes. This is akin to Rhysand's mother and father, who also had an immediate snap of their mating bond upon first locking eyes.
Rhysand's parents bred the most powerful High Lord in all of Prythian's history. So powerful, that other High Lord's are essentially humans to him.
Nessian and Feysand took time. The female did not experience the bond before she wanted to. They fell in love before accepting the bond. Their souls bonded before their acceptance, and it was a slow, consensual journey into love. This is akin to the other true mates. Ones true lover. A soul matched pair.
These are the genuine written words to differentiate the different kinds of mating bonds. There are different kinds of bonds.
Both the Asteri and the Mother's will live on in the Cauldron. Yes, the mating bonds are affected. But the Mother is not gone from Prythian. She was not erased from the Cauldron. She is governess of worlds. Creatures like Maeve and the Asteri actively interfere with bonds to interfere with the course of fate. These are the stories on the table.
It is wonderful and fascinating and endlessly exciting!
*ps I am still largely on my theory, inbox ask, and SJM scrolling break. I've been mostly living in the writing, poetry, and Agatha All Along tags. But I became violently ill in the middle of the day, then saw there were some great discussions about the mating bonds and Cauldron corrupted theories (I read @wingedblooms and @psychologynerd !) and I've been sitting on my little cluster of thoughts for this forever, so I am in bed doing this 𤣠enjoy! Apologies if I've repeated anything that is already largely out there!
Stay kind out there fam. Please promote positivity in the reblog tags should you feel moved to share!
#elriel#pro elriel#elain x azriel#elriel endgame#sick day means back on tumblr day#back on my theory shit#heyyyyyyy how ya'll doin
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