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acourtofmenandthirst · 2 months

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When The Night Calls

Tamlin x Reader

Warnings: smut, slight breeding, dubcon if you will, Calanmai, beastie tamlin (not abo or actual beastiality)

Word Count: 6.6K

This Tamlin x reader was inspired by @slutbugz (nsfw) on twitter!! I got permission to write this, and here are a couple pics that inspired me. Not Tamlin, but I mean come on how hot would he be like this…

Your mother tucked a warm cup of tea between your palms and curled a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Your father had spent a majority of the evening boarding up the windows and the doors, nailing the heavy wooden slats into the frame. The incescent sound of the sharp iron nails being driven into the trim with the steel hammer had you on edge all night - and even though he’d been at it for hours, you still weren’t used to the noise.

He’d all but buried you in the house, laying stones and heavy bags of sand in front of all the doorways to create a hearty wall outside your home. He’d then shut and locked all the doors, opting to nail wooden boards across all the openings, despite the metal latches already fastened in place.

Calanmai used to be a night spent outside, with singing and dancing, letting the magic run wild across the Spring Court hills. You could even feel it twist and twirl through your ankles and across your arms, like a warm wind. It was a party most Fae snuck out to join, once they were old enough, that is. The joyous feast and dancing around the bonfire lasted most of the evening, before the Fae females were lined up for the High Lord’s choosing.

It used to be an honor to be taken for the evening, a lustful night spent with the most powerful Fae male, in which her bodily sacrifice promised good yield and high power for the following year. Her family would be well taken care of, and her likeness would be celebrated throughout the town.

The High Lord had been rumored to be a great lover. A strong male, large and well built, with shining green eyes and oh-so-pullable blond hair. The females he bedded had lived on cloud-nine for the first few days after the ceremony, and despite their lust-blown eyes and the contagious smile across their plump swollen lips, none had ever uttered a word about the male’s performance. They didn’t need to, though, as even a blind Fae could tell all they needed to from their blissed out state.

While the Spring Court males had never been too pleased that their sisters or daughters could be whisked away by the High Lord for an eventful evening, it was considered a blessing by the Mother herself, considering it was her magic that coursed through his veins that night and chose his partner.

But it hadn’t been the same in the past few years. Not even with all the years spent under the mountain - you’d still had that one night of freedom, where Fae wine and music spread across the Spring Court hills. A night of tears filled with the promise of freedom - someday. Tamlin had bedded a lovely brunette that last evening, and though seemingly possessed by a darker magic (perhaps due to the circumstances set forth by Amarantha) the female returned to the crowd with shaking legs.

But it had only gotten worse after that. After you’d been freed from the confines of the mountain, at the hands of that once-human female, you’d expected the court to return to its plush green, with magic in the wind and happiness in the air.

But then the female left - well, she was stolen.

And then the High Lord became unhinged.

Later, when it was found out that she’d up and all but left him for the Night Court - that she had willed for the High Lord of the Night Court to take her from Spring - Tamlin had broken completely.

War waged throughout the lands while he remained bastardized and miserable. Lucien, the Autumn Court emissary, had left as well. The High Lord was utterly alone.

Calanmai was skipped that year.

The harvests suffered. There was so little food to go around; the salvageable fruits and vegetables were sold at market for one hundred times their worth. There was once a point where money and gold were valued and traded for nearly as much, but you couldn’t even buy meat with three solid gold necklaces - at that time, if it wasn’t edible, it was worthless. Your small family had barely made it through the year, keeping to themselves and rationing soup and bread.

Rumor had it, Tamlin had been seen around lately. He was spotted lurking in the woods, his unmistakable green eyes glowed against the dark brush. Word had gone around suggesting he’d be back for this Calanmai. He would have to return for the magic to be restored in the lands - and it would make quite the return.

You were glad, hoping he’d retake control of the court. You all surely needed it. But the sight of your father boarding up the house only made your bones itch.

The male hadn’t been seen in human form in over a year.

He undoubtedly had built up an unquenchable thirst.

You sighed into your tea cup, rubbing the

furrow between your eyebrows.

“We should’ve sought refuge in the Summer Court,” you father grumbled, more to himself than either you or your mother. He dropped a nail, causing the heavy piece of lumber he was nailing over the final window to fall to the wooden floor with a loud bang. Your flinch caused some of your tea to splash out of your mug and onto your hands.

Your mother responded regardless: “And give them what in return, exactly?” It was the argument they’d been having for the past month: leave the Spring Court for the week of Calanmai and seek refuge in Summer. But with the poor yeild and nothing to offer in return for shelter, your mother did not think it would be a good idea. Though, your father argued it would be better to sleep on the beaches of the Summer Court than to risk the High Lord stealing you for Calanmai.

While the argument ensued in the living room, you wandered off into your bedroom, unable to listen to the same conversation they’d already had a million times over. You lit the candle beside your bed, grimacing at the wooden slats that had been nailed over your large window, the moonlight shining in only through the slivers of space between the boards. You knelt on the floor beside your bed, sighing as you read the time on the clock beside your bed: 9:07. You only had three more hours until this night came to an end.

You pressed your nose against your palms, held together in prayer as your elbows rested on the bed. You silently prayed to the Mother for an uneventful evening: that your home, your mother, your friends, and your neighbors would all be safe. You prayed that the High Lord regained his power over the court, prayed for a strong yield, and prayed that whoever he did choose the evening would make it out safe and sound.

Through the muffled sound of your parents’ argument outside your closed bedroom door, you heard the wind ruffling the leaves outside. The tree on the otherside of your window rapped against the glass, the bushes shaking wildly as they were stirred up by the wind.

You furrowed your brows as you rose and neared the wooden slats, unsure of the storm that was brewing up outside. But as you neared the glass, peering over the boards, there was a dark figure climbing through the brush in front of your window.

A pair of bright green eyes glared back at you, dark in color but shining brighter than the moon. You were frozen in place with a gasp lodged somewhere deep in your throat. He did nothing but stare at you, his large figure shielded by the leaves. His head was furry - wolffish ears standing tall above his head and glinting in the moonlight.

He radiated nothing but pure power.

You stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over the back of your skirts. As you steadied yourself, though, he took one step forward. As you moved back again, feeling for the bedside table behind you, he took another forward, his chest nearly touching the glass of your window. You watched ad his chest broadened with each heavy breath he took. The cold air swirled around his head, the air nearly freezing cold.

He raised a large hand and his fingers rapped against the window, no doubt feeling how thick the glass is. Then his eyes narrowed, staring at you between the gaps of the wooden boards. He made quick work to tear down the moat of sandbags and stones on the ground at the base of your window.

Without another look back at the half beast - you ran, calling for your patents.

But your shouts were drowned out by the sound of broken glass and heavy breathing, the male grunting as he tore through the wooden boards, breaking them right down the middle, ripping nails out of the frame.

You lurched for the door, running out into the living room, following your parents’ confused calls, shouting for help. But somehow, the male was faster, and as he was right on your heels, you took one look back before heading straight for the kitchen.

The male was build like a stone fucking wall, muscles coiling around his chest and arms, stained red from the cold air outside. He wore nothing but a pair of thick looking trousers, stained with grass and mud - unlikely to have been washed within the past year. His head was covered by a wolf’s hide, brownish in color, with glassy brown eyes. The jaw had been broken, such that the lower half of the jaw was missing, exposing the male’s face to you. The wolf’s teeth crowded his face, intimidating sharpness mirroring the Fae’s own fangs that he barred in your direction. His blond hair poked out around his jaw, mixing with the fur that flowed into the hood down his back.

The High Lord had come for you.

You screamed, rounding the corner hoping to find something to defend yourself with. As you scanned around the kitchen, unable to find anything, you heard your mother’s scream, and his footsteps indicating that he was closing in on you.

“Son of a bitch - ” you heard your dad call towards him, only to be met with a feral growl from the taller male.

Without another look back at your family, you ran out the back door.

Straight into the woods.

You went as fast as your feet could take you, using only the moonlight as a guide into the woods.

You couldn’t hear anything over the wind whirling past you, mixing with the sound of your heartbeat drumming in your pointy ears. You wove through trees and hurled yourself over boulders and fallen branches, praying to all the gods that you didn’t slip on anything. You didn’t know if he was running on his own two legs or on all fours. Nothing would surprise you, considering the rumors of the shifter male - more powerful than any other Fae… you had no doubt he’d catch up to you eventually.

But why hadn’t he caught you by now?

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and pushed your legs impossibly faster, arms pumping at your sides to keep your momentum going, every so often shooting out beside you to keep your balance as you tripped over slippery rocks and fallen tree branches.

It felt like you’d been running for hours, though you knew he wouldn’t have let you - after all, there were only a few hours left of the night, the Calanmai magic had to be sealed in before midnight. You had never run so fast or so far; you wove through trees, looking for the godsdamned river that ran into Spring from the Autumn Court - but you couldn’t hear it, let alone find it. You’d twisted and turned around the trees so many times that you’d lost track of where you were. You couldn’t find any of the trails; not even the moonlight could light up the ground enough for you to track any Fae or animal footprints.

It was still so quiet behind you, maybe you lost him when you slid between the narrow spaces between the trees, surely his huge form wouldn’t fit. In the dark, though, you missed all the claw marks on the tree bark, where the High Lord had clawed his way through the thicket. His lips spread into a grin as he could hear your racing heart from where he ran behind you.

You gulped down a deep breath and your hands coiled into fists. You mustered the strength to tilt your jaw to the side, the moon lighting your sights just far enough in front of you to confirm there were no trees in front of you to run into.

Your legs kept pushing as your head turned, eyes darting out to the side to look for the pursuer.

Then he lurched.

Your breath caught in your throat as it felt like your heart stopped beating completely. He’d been shadowing your every move, no more than a step away from you this whole time. Two big hands grabbed your hips easily, his long arms barely having to stretch out to pull you into his chest. His warm palms pinned your hips to his own, your back flush against his naked chest as your feet left the ground and he came to a sudden stop.

You let out a winded groan, your chest and legs burning from the sudden stop - but your bare feet were damn near thanking the gods as they left the freezing ground, no doubt cut up and bleeding.

The High Lord took no more than a few steps forward before he set you back down on your own two feet, a strangled groan leaving your throat when the dewy leaves met your open wounds. You clawed at his forearms and the backs of his hands, panic suddenly flooding through you.

But he kept his hips pressed up against your ass as you lurched forward, trying to escape his grip. But he simply laughed, the rumble of his chest vibrating into your back as he mirrored your movements.

He was so warm, though, and the cold was quickly sinking into your bones as you were held in place. The thin layer of sweat that coated your legs and the back of your neck was starting feel like you’d been doused in an ice bath. The only thing keeping your teeth from chattering and your chest from convulsing was the beast of a male behind you.

He adjusted his grip, holding you across the waist with one arm, as the other slid over your skirts, drawing a long line down your leg until he found the hem and hiked it up over your hips. You screamed at his quick actions, one of this thick thighs found his way between yours. His pants brushed against the apex of your thighs, the sudden pressure between your legs causing them to squeeze around his.

“Scream all you want,” he growled, the sound of your panting only causing his cock to stir in his pants. “Nobody can hear you.” His breath brushed against your ear as he leaned in close to whisper to you. You shivered when his hips began to rut against you, building up in presesure that you rocked on your tiptoes when his hips jutted against your ass.

There had been years where Tamlin had looked forward to Calanmai, the magic coursing through his veins turning him into a completely different male. He used to love the sound of the female’s blissful moans and cries falling over him in praise as he bedded them for hours. He missed how they’d pull at his hair, how they’d promise him anything he wanted, that he could take them however he’d pleased.

And this was how he wanted you, heady, desperate, rocking back against him as your legs dared to curl around his, fighting for him to be even closer to you.

Tamlin grinned again, biting into the crook of your neck, right at the exposed flesh from the neckline of your dress. It was soft, just enough for his fangs to press against your skin, to which the gasp that escaped your lips almost had him sticking his cock into you immediately.

You felt the fur against your neck, the matted coarse hairs from the wolf hide he wore poking against your sensitive skin as he licked over the bitemark he’d just given you. Your knees pushed together, feet leaving the ground as you rocked against his thick thigh. Tamlin kept his vice-grip on your waist as the other hand pushed up your dress until it was hiked up over your back. He then curled his arm around your front, reaching over your hip and the mountain of skirts around your waist. He rested you on his thigh, your toes now barely grazing the ground.

It took all of your strength not to rock your hips back and forth against his leg.

And turns out you weren’t that strong.

The heat radiating off him was like a drug coursing through your body, and the only way to keep it flowing was by rubbing your cunt across his hard-muscled thigh. The friction of your undergarments against his pants was addicting.

Tamlin laughed at how eager you were.

He let you have your fun, tucking his hand down your front, fingers sliding between where your pussy was rubbing against him. You gasped, his cold fingers sliding between you legs, prodding at your clit as you shifted back and forth across him.

Your hands flew out to the tree in front of you, sharp bark digging into your palms. But you couldn’t feel it, you were just using it for balance so you could continue fucking yourself against him.

The High Lord practically moaned as you let out a shaky sigh, watching you work so hard to get yourself off - before he even started. He curled his fingers upwards, relishing in the cry that passed your lips when your clit brushed against his fingertips. He dared to move his hand further between your legs, hissing at the way your warm cunt tried to envelope his fingers even through your underwear. He swallowed hard, trying not to focus too hard on your ass brushing against his hard cock in his pants.

So with a few quick passes between your legs, he pulled his hand away abruptly, ignoring the strangled groan that fell from you as your hips faltered.

You were so close.

He lowered you down so your own feet held you up, promptly removing his leg from between yours. You practically whined, pressing your knees and thighs together, clenching around absolutely nothing as you fought to feel something - anything.

Tamlin wasted no time in grabbing all your undergarments and tearing them off you in one quick motion. You screamed, the cold air hitting you all at once, shocking your system. But before you could even register the feeling, you felt his nose press against your bare cunt, his long tongue swiping across your folds.

“Oh my gods,” was all you could gasp as your hips flew backwards, meeting his face as he opened his mouth and began his assault between your legs. He chuckled again, you felt his lips curl into a smile before he kissed around your clit and bit at the fat of your upper thighs. He licked at your clit, back and forth in a quick motion before licking up your slit.

He moaned at the taste, the first woman he’d had properly in years, even. He wasn’t planning on eating you out, the only thing on his mind was burying his cock as deep into your cunt as your body could take, but at the rate his dick was growing, he knew he’d have to loosen you up at least a little before that.

But as his tongue pressed up into your hole, feeling your warm walls, he knew that no matter how long he’d spent opening your cunt up, you’d still be so tight around his fucking cock. The taste of your juices mixed with his own filthy thoughts of bouncing you stupid on his cock had him groaning, the vibrations tickling your thighs that had esentailly trapped him between your legs, unwilling to let him go again.

Not before you came, at least.

“You like this don’t you,” he growled through barred teeth. “Want me to use you for the night? You didn’t run very fast, like you wanted me to catch you, huh?” You felt his lips moving against your pussy as he spoke. You bit back a response, all thoughts and words caught in your throat as he continued to work at your clit.

You pushed further into the bark of the tree as you pressed yourself back against Tamlin’s face. You felt the nose of that godsdamned wolf hood press against your ass, which had you grinding even further into your High Lord’s face. He fell to his knees behind you, running his tongue against your slit and clit as you fucked his face. His hands found purchase against your hips, grabbing at your ass and quickening your pace as your legs shook around him.

You felt his tongue curl up between your legs, flicking at your clit as you were left clenching around nothing, yet again. “Please,” you groaned, brows furrowed, crying out as his tongue swirled around your clit.

His brows rose at your first word spoken to him, a broken cry that was nothing but music to his ears. “Please what?”

He licked another long stripe against your pussy, stopping his previous movements until you answered. You groaned out, desperate for more friction - if rubbing yourself against his pointy nose was all you were going to get, you’d take it. “Please - your fingers, something - ” you gasped as he nuzzled his nose against your clit. “Anything.”

The High Lord laughed, smile broad as he nipped at the skin of your ass. “You’re not supposed to be the one telling me what to do,” he replied, as if it was obvious (it was - but you were desperate). But he smiled and landed a harsh smack against your ass, which burned against your cold skin, right before he returned the assault of his tongue against your clit.

His long fingers dragged up your tight and swiped across your enterance a couple times before he slid them right in your wet pussy, curling upwards against your walls. You both shared a moan, your warm walls clenching around his two cold fingers the moment he pushed them into you. Tamlin pushed himself forward, and you hiked your leg up high enough for him to turn underneath you, now sitting directly under you with his back against the tree you held yourself up against.

He worked his fingers up and down inside of you as he kissed at your clit, swirling his tongue around the nub. His eyes found yours as your head hung forward, and his emerald eyes practically glowed under the darkness of his hood. They were not the eyes of a Fae, no - the wolffish eyes with glowing iris stared up at you, watching your every move as he curled his fingers up into the gummy spot in your walls. Your eyes shut and your knees buckled as he continued his movements, tongue now sloppily licking anywhere he could reach before returning to your clit.

He shook his face back and forth, absolutely devouring you, and the nose of his fucking hide brushed against your pubic bone. With a cry, you squeezed your thighs around his head, practically falling onto his face just to feel his tongue against your clit even harder. It was a welcomed by the High Lord, as his fingers did not falter once as you rode out your high, throwing your head back with a loud cry.

He moaned underneath you, drinking up your sounds and juices as you fucked his face and fingers. But with no time to even catch your footing, the male was back behind you, standing up and hoisting you back to your feet. You kept yourself pushed up against the tree as his one arm held you like before, the other working to push his pants off. He kicked them away before taking a wide stance and tugging at his cock. He let out a shattered breath as he lined the tip of his cock against your wet folds, both of you crying out.

The High Lord kept his arm hooked around you as he nudged your clit with the thick tip of his dick, your legs nearly shutting around him in overstimulation. He nudged your leg with a bent knee, lifting his foot to kick your leg out from under you, spread apart from the other. He tutted at you, leaning forward so his chest pressed against your back again. “Legs open,” he growled in your ear. “You’re tight enough as it is.”

You couldn’t even comprehend his words as he slid the tip of his cock into your wet cunt. He grunted as he drove his hips forward, the wetness of your pussy letting him slide right in, though your walls squeezed him so tightly, and he had to grit his teeth and hold himself back from slamming his hips up into yours.

You squeezed you eyes shut and groaned, feeling his wide cock stretch your walls. You cried out as you tightened around him the farther he drove his cock into you. He moved back and forth slowly, allowing you to get used to his size, before he couldn’t take it anymore. His dick was so hard, he’d been waiting for this moment for years, the Mother’s magic surging through him like adrenaline in his veins.

So he fucked you like it - without so much as a warning, he slid out of you almost completely, so just his tip was catching on the enterance of your pussy. You arched against him, tilting your hips backwards to try to fuck yourself back onto his cock. Before you could get any farther, his hips slammed up to yours, his balls hitting your clit from behind.

You screamed out, as his cock practically pierced you, and he continued to fuck you at a rapid pace. He moved so quickly that you hinged forward, curling over his arm still secured around your waist. You lurched forward at each press of his hips, moaning each time his cock nudged that sweet spot inside of you.

Your arms had fallen from where they were holding you up against the tree, completely hinged in half as your fingers clawed at his arms - this time out of pleasure. Your legs were too weak as you clenched around him, finally giving out as they began to shake with your impeding orgasm. Tamlin’s other hand gripped your hip so that he held you completely against him, bent in half, as he continued fucking you, now so much tighter as your legs fell together under you.

The High Lord let loose a string of curses as you squeezed his cock. He held your hips up, your toes just barely brushing the ground as he fucked up into you. His breathing was ragged as his chest heaved, groaning as you tried to grab onto anything you could. He never lost rhythm as he drove into you, your slick walls allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease. Your head spun as it felt like he was just getting bigger and bigger the more he fucked you.

Tamlin let you fall to your hands an knees abruptly - to which you knew you’d feel the pain of more if you weren’t completely focused on the heat between your legs. He took a knee behind you, legs spread around your side to shove his cock back into you. “Fuck, how are you so tight still?” He muttered to himself as he continued to fuck you, faster now that he didn’t have to hold you up.

You used all the strength you had left to push yourself up and turn your head behind you to take in the sight of the High Lord absolutely wrecking your pussy. His skin was glistening in the moonlight, the muscles across his broad chest straining as he moved his hips so smoothly against yours. His hair fell over his shoulders, sticking to his neck with sweat. His face was conceleaed, only his lips and sharp jaw poking out from the wolf hide’s unhinged jaw. Your gaze fell down his chest to his taut waist, where the blond hairs underneath his bellybutton grew to surround his cock.

Gods, you knew he was getting bigger.

The base of his cock was so thick, you weren’t even sure it would fit inside you anymore. He moved you quickly on his dick, in and out so you slid down just half of his length. It was mesmerizing, truly, the High Lord thrusting in and out of you ferally.

Then he fucking smiled.

His white teeth barred in a devilish grin, fangs practically shining as you suddenly wanted to feel them bite into your skin.

Then he slammed his hips fully into yours as he pulled your waist back onto him, bottoming out inside of you.

You fell forward with a cry, the stretch of the base of his cock almost painful as your pussy tried to accommodate him. You felt him against your cervix, stirring up into your stomach. You rested your forehead against your arm, protecting your face from the dirt and ground underneath you.

Tamlin’s groaned, breathing a quiet, “That’s it, take it,” as you felt his large hand flatten against your back. In your folded position, you arched even farther against him, where he swore he could feel the end of the depths of your cunt. He kept you arched, which you almost struggled to break as he continued to fuck into you.

He leaned over, other hand ripping a line down your bodice with what felt like a sharp claw, tearing your dress from your skin - so you were just as naked as he was. He licked a broad stripe up your spine before burying his head into your neck and biting your shoulder. You gasped, his sharp canine teeth nearly breaking skin. He offered you a repreive, leaving open mouthed kisses across your shoulder and neck - undoubtedly marking you.

His leg hinged around yours, allowing him to hump into you as you fell forward underneath him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him, not with the force of how hard he was fucking you.

Like he read your mind - he pulled out of you quickly, his wet cock curling up against your cunt as he rutted against your folds a few times. Tamlin wanted to look at you just as much as you wanted to see him.

He gripped your hips and flipped you onto the cold ground so your back was against the fallen leaves and branches. He lifted your legs up so they were bent in the air, allowing him to slide right back in your ready and waiting cunt.

The hood he wore still covered his eyes, just his fangs visible. But you, on the other hand, were all spread out for your High Lord, so pliant and ready for his seed, writhing underneath him.

He truly didn’t know how much longer he’d last.

He knew you wouldn’t last, though, not by the looks of your blissed out face, mouth open and mews spilling from your lips. Your legs were shaking, and you were fighting the urge to wrap them around his waist, but again, like the damned male read your mind, he grabbed the meat of your ass and slid his hand around your thigh, curling them around him. He grinned like the fucking Cheshire Cat. Your hands landed on his shoulders as he leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head.

He groaned, fucking you so deeply, body almost prone on top of yours now, cock going all the way into you. You met him thrust for thrust, locking your ankles behind him and using it as leverage to fuck yourself onto his big cock. He was close, meeting your quickened pace. “Desprate for your High Lord, huh?” He teased through clenched teeth. “Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how bad you want it.”

Oh you wanted it bad.

You were practically shaking as you continued to meet his thrusts, rocking your hips up and down. Tamlin’s eyes fell to your stomach, where he could see the indent of his cock poking through. He sighed at the sight, plump lips falling open. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, not as he felt his cock twitching and his balls tightening.

Your pussy was absolutely wrecked, stretched out to accommodate the girth of the base of his cock. You felt him rub against your walls, not an inch of your cunt untouched by his dick. Tamlin dropped a hand to your clit, feeling you struggle to take all of him. It became harder for you take his cock as your legs tighten around his waist, your pussy gripping down on his cock as you neared your orgasm.

Tamlin eventually lost all patience, slamming his hips into yours. You fell back completely against the ground, unable to hold yourself up any longer as your took his brutal strokes. He humped into you, his balls rubbing against your ass as he towered over you, fucking you quickly.

Your hips turned upwards and you took a sharp breath as the hairs at the base of his cock brushed against your clit. “You going to take all of it?” Tamlin growled, fucking you harder.

Your stomach coiled, legs shaking as you tried to shut your legs around him, but his body gave you no space to squirm around him. “Scream for my cum,” he moaned, falling forward and pressing his lips against your neck. “I know you want it. Tell me you want it.”

You did, so you screamed, crying out for your High Lord to fill you up.

He came as soon as you did.

His warm seed filled your cunt as he continued to fuck you, the lewed sound of your wet walls against his slowing pace made you shiver. His long cock was still nuzzled inside you as his hand drew up your waist and found its way up your chest. His fingers and thumb danced across your soft breast, swirling at your nipple before his hand danced along your collarbone and up your throat. He tilted your chin up, undoubtedly taking in all your features before his thumb swiped against your bottom lip.

He swore he’d never cum so much in his life. But never had he been presented with such a pretty pussy to fill up, one that would take him completely and be able to give all his seed to. You’d hold all of it - he’d be damn sure - as the swollen tip of his cock remained nestled deep in your cunt.

You were panting and twitching as Tamlin stilled completely above you, too enthralled in the feeling of your wet pussy coated in his cum to even try to pull out. His strong arms keep himself held above you, his face, shielded by the wolf hide, still only a few inches away from yours - but if you moved any closer, you’d certainly be knocked by the nose and teeth of whoever that once was. His blond hairs were clumped together at the ends, hanging over his broad shoulders, and you couldn’t see his eyes, surely dimmer now as the Mother’s magic was wearing out of his system, but you know they were glaring down at you from underneath the darkness of the hood.

The High Lord shifted, keeping his cock buried inside of you as he unhooked one of your legs to make room for him to slide down beside you in the dirt. You winced as he moved you, your pussy now beaten raw and sore as it shifts against the coarse blond hairs across his pubic bone. It’s the first time you’d heard his voice quiet, gruff but calm, as he murmured a quiet “Sorry.”

He moved for your hips to sit atop of his, his cock softening, but still far too big for it to slip out of you in this position. Your legs fell across his own, thick thighs shielding your softer ones from the hard ground. He tucked you in the crook of his arm, allowing you to rest against his chest.

His hood had fallen against the tree roots he rested against. It was your first look up close at him, the arch of his brownish eyebrows, the long pale eyelashes that rested along his high cheekbones when he blinked. His nose sloped into a sharp point and the hair framing his face was stuck to his bronze skin with sweat. You swore his chiseled cheeks were tinted pink, probably the cold.

You didn’t know that the male was actually just blushing, the feeling of your pretty eyes studying him made him nervous. Now that the haze fogging his mind had cleared, Tamlin was almost embarrassed with his actions, how he chased you through the woods and forced you against the cold hard earth. He’d never felt that way before - not in his many hundred Calanmai celebrations he’d had before. Perhaps he was a bit pent up, but maybe it was something about you that had him acting so primal.

You brought out the beast in him.

He clenched his jaw to keep himself quiet, unsure of what he should say - what would he even say to you after that? He usually never said anything to the females he bedded after the night was over, never had to - never wanted to.

You swallowed a shaky breath when his eyes met yours, and for the first time you’d seen him as a Fae male and not as a wolf. Those green eyes burned brighter than any leaf or flower in this forest. His gaze remained unwavering, almost in challenge. You bit your lip nearvously, his sights flickering down to your lips, now chapped and dry from the cold that swirled around the both of you.

He wanted to kiss you regardless.

But he figured he’d save that for the next time - when he’d hopefully be able to act like like a respectable male.

He studied you, and under the scruitiny of your High Lord, you spoke out nervously. “My parents wanted to seek refuge in the Summer Court.” You made no move, not to escape him nor flee the woods - if you could even find your way back home.

The High Lord scoffed, turning his head away to gaze up at the stars. His body remained still, one arm tucked under you, curling around your waist to keep your naked body flush against his own. The heat radiating off him kept you warm, both of you glowing through the thin layer of sweat coating your chests. His bright hair splayed out behind his head, blond locks mixing with the brown fur pelt that rested at the crown of his head and down his back. “To spare you of me?”

You would’ve missed the smirk that he fought hard to suppress if you hadn’t been staring at him to intently. His eyes danced across the constellations, studying them, and there was no doubt in your mind that he knew the names and stories behind each of them. His arm tightened around you, fingers gripping into the plush skin of your hips. You didn’t trust yourself to respond, just a nod of your head that he felt against the crook of his neck as you buried yourself further into him.

Tamlin licked his teeth behind his closed lips, barring his fangs but keeping them hidden from you. His voice was low when he responded, calm and confident: “I would have found you anyway.”

#acotar #tamlin/you #tamlin x you #tamlin oneshot #tamlin imagine #acosf #acomaf #acotar series #tamlin redemption #tamlin #spring court

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readychilledwine · 3 months

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Praise

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Be good for me and read this first. So pretty when you listen. You're always so good for me.

If that made you feel a little tingly, you may have a praise kink. A praise kink, or the positive affirmation kink, is characterized by, typically, a sub who finds sexual pleasure in positive phrases and words of affirmation. In this kink, phrase like "such a dirty whore," will be replaced with a softer one like, "such a good whore for me."

This is often seen as a gentler side if the BDSM community because it does still typically come with some form of a power exchange dynamic with what some people may call a soft dom and/or a pleasure dom with a sub who typically has some form of an insecurity that this type of play works well with. It is more about safety and comfort, not power and known dominance.

I will say, I had 7 requests for a variety of characters with this spot and ultimately picked Eris because I wanted to write him in a vulnerable position. However, I also think Cassian, Azriel, Tamlin, or Lucien would have made WONDERFUL subs for this as well. It is not one of my favorite kinks to write, so I hope I did this one justice.

As always, NSFW below the cut.

💕Peep the Valentines Day Bingo List Here💕

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Warnings - sub and dom dynamics, soft smut, oral *female receiving*, reader is a sex worker, this one is unedited by an outside source (dying like a boss bitch today), so I'm sure I'll find errors when I re-read it.

Eris whimpered, face burying deeper into your cunt as he lapped at your center.

“Such a good boy,” you moaned breathlessly. Your fingers began threading through his soft hair. “Keep going, baby. Just like that.”

Eris moaned against you, looking up at you with those desperate eyes. He'd had a shitty day. He'd spent hours being ridiculed and attacked verbally by Beron until there was almost nothing left of the heir emotionally.

Hence his presence in your pleasure halls, in your room specifically. On days like this, Eris craved nothing more than to be a whimpering mess below someone, and you were his someone. He just had to earn it first.

You smiled, head thrown back, grinding your cunt against his face, so close to the edge you could practically taste it. “Doing so good baby,” you panted and moaned his name as his tongue circled your clit. “Almost there. You want to be a good boy right? Want to make me cum?”

He whined against you, eyes hazy in submission and lust. He nodded slightly, eyes peering up from his beautiful long lashes. “Gods, you are so beautiful and all mine tonight, aren't you?” He hummed a soft blush creeping his cheeks.

A few more flicks of his tongue had you moaning his name, pulling his hair as you did. You rode his face through the High, mind lost in the once bit of pleasure you Were allowing yourself before it became about him and only him.

You let go of his hair, motioning for him to come up to you. You put one hand on his face, thumb stroking his freckled cheekbone. “Did so good, Eris,” he smiled and leaned into your hand.

His whole body had relaxed significantly, showing signs of comfort and trust. He was so beautiful, bare before you, scars littering his muscled body like paint helplessly thrown to a canvas. "May I have a kiss?" His voice was low, leaking the smallest hint of desperation.

"Such pretty manners," you licked his lips, forcing him back on to the bed. "How can I say no when you ask so nicely?"

You crawled on top of him, soaking core brushing his cock, as you went up to kiss him. His hands settled in your hips while yours rested on his chest. The kiss was deep and slow, leaking with the passion only lust could bring. His shoulders relaxed further, muscles becoming soft below you as he found his center.

He would never tell you, but you were his beacon in the darkness. A breeze on a summer day. You were water to his fire.

He didn't love you. The relationship wasn't about that and never would be. But Gods did he desire you. He needed you.

Eris gasped as you ground against his length, soaking him as you did to prepare him. You pulled off his lips, forehead resting against his. "Look at you," you purred, sitting up and grabbing his cock. He bucked into your grasp, eyes squeezing shut. "Is my pet about to beg?"

He whined, back arching as he did. "Please," need coated his tone like honey, leaking into every letter spoken. "Mistress, please. I need it. I'll be so good."

You kissed him again, sinking on to him at a slow, torturing pace. "Always so good for me, honey." You pushed down on his chest. "Relax and let me take care of you."

He nodded, mouth hung open in a silent moan. You raised yourself slightly and then lowered back down, testing his obedient behavior. He moaned again, hands staying on your hips until you gave him permission to explore.

You began riding and rocking on him, head falling back as you found the angle you wanted and needed. "So fucking good, baby," you moaned breathlessly, toes curling as you felt the head of him brush the spot you needed. "Gods, you are perfect. Fill me so well, Eris."

And he did. It was as if his cock for sculpted perfectly for you. It was the perfect length, the perfect thickness, and had ridges in all the right places. You could become lost in him if time allowed it, if the heir had allowed it.

But he had you for his pleasure. He paid for his needs.

You ignored the need to cum the best you could, watching his face contort in bliss. His back arching off the bed. You took one of his hands, bringing it to your tits and leaving it to explore those curves. You then took the other, bringing it to you clit.

You didn't have to even say anything. Eris had been so well trained as your sub he knew. He began to gently circle and rub that bundle of nerves. "Yes," you threw your head back, feeling him twitch inside of you. "Just like that, Eris. So good. So fucking good. You feel incredible, honey."

The heir moaned loudly below you, his hand on your breast tweaking your left nipple while the other played to match the speed of your bounces.

"I love the way you touch me, how you feel," you were panting, a silent prayer going to the Mother wishing this would never end. "I'm going to cum if you keep doing that."

It was the encouragement he needed to press a little harder, both of you moaning each other's names. "How did I get so fucking lucky?" You moved a hand to his throat, holding it lightly. "I have such a beautiful male below me who always knows just what I need."

Eris's eyes squeezed shut again, the amber color almost completely blown out with lust. "May I cum?" His voice was a whimper of pleasure. "Mistress, please, I need to cum."

"You've done so well. Go ahead, baby. Cum for me." The moan Eris released was heavenly. The feeling of his hot cum triggered your own orgasm, but you couldn't help to praise him through his high. Moaning how good it was, how well he did, how perfect his body felt.

You panted once you two came down from that peak. "You look so beautiful begging below me. I will never get tired of the slight of it."

Eris smiled widely, arrogance returning to him. "Eventually, we will switch roles," his hands ran to your breasts, squeezing them. "And when we do, I will make sure to tell you how beautiful you look when you're cock drunk for me."

You leaned down, kissing him deeply. "I look forward to it, my lord."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

#acotar #acotar x reader #eris vanserra #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris acotar

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acotar-taylorsversion · 2 months

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Thoughts and Takes As I Re-Read the ACOTAR Series

This is extremely long and I have been typing it for weeks now. These are just my thoughts and I am typing them as I go. If you read it, I hope you enjoy it and maybe we can agree on most things. I would really love to hear everyone else's thoughts, too! 🙂

I don't feel like people blame papa archeron nearly as much as they should. It should not have been any of the sisters' responsibility to do what Feyre did. And after reading Nesta's POV, I don't blame Nesta for being so cold and hateful towards her father.

Lucien annoyed me so much in ACOTAR so much so that it was hard to like him in ACOMAF but I really tried to like him and give him a chance when Sarah made him Elain's mate and I realized that he could have a big role in ACOWAR.

I believe Tamlin had his redemption arc in ACOWAR when he saved Feyre and Az when they were rescuing Elain and then again when he saved Rhys. But I don't think Sarah will explore his story and she might be keeping him alive right now so that he can die at the right time.

After what Tamlin did to her and then allying with Hybern, I don't blame Feyre for ruining his court. He deserved it.

I don't think Ianthe suffered enough and I think that Nesta or Elain should have been the ones to have killed her.

Elain and Az were obvious to me in ACOMAF, just like Nesta and Cassian were and I was truly truly shocked when sarah made Lucien Elain's mate. I believe that there is so much more to that night than we know about and we'll learn about it when we get to Elain & Az's POVs. I believe that the bloodbane in Az's blood was killing him and nullified any bond that could have been there even before Elain was turned. Az was shot with the arrow before they went up to the throne room and that is why Lucien showed signs of mate behavior once Elain showed up. I believe the cauldron was wrong.

That being said, I tried to give Lucien a chance in ACOWAR and he just gave me the ick when talking about Elain. It didn't feel right to hear him say that he wanted to "see if she was worth it." Like she should already be worth it. Don't hesitate. I just did not see it at all.

I think that LoA will be the one to kill Beron. Don't know why, but I just feel that she will lose it and run to Helion.

Sarah had every opportunity to set Elucien up and she didn't. I believe she set them up for failure from the get-go. She instead focused on Elain and Az. I could do an entirely separate post about Elain, Lucien, and Az.

I believe Mor and Eris are mates, especially after what was said in ACOSF. I believe that he knows that she prefers females and wanted to save her from a loveless, unsatisfying marriage. I do think that he handled it wrong. Like that whole situation could have been handled so much better.

I think the whole Mor, Az, and Cassian situation was extremely weird. And now that Cassian is with Nesta and Az could possibly be with Elain, maybe Mor can finally move on and be free and not hide anything anymore. I wish that Mor would have talked to Nesta in ACOSF and explained and apologized for everything. Maybe she'll sit both the sisters down and talk about it one day.

I think Amren and Varian are cute together, but I think Amren should have stayed dead. Sarah is notorious for killing and then unkilling her characters and I think that gets old. I believe that sarah brought her back as a way to keep the summer court involved with the night court and to have a "know it all" character.

I think that Feyre and Rhys have a true, soul mate, true love, fairytale mating bond and I think Nesta and Cassian have a more realistic one. Feyre and Rhys fell in love before the bond was accepted and Nesta and Cassian were just beginning to fall in love before the bond was accepted. Lust and attraction and the pull of the bond is what truly brought them together but they quickly fell in love with each other.

I hate all the hate that Nessian is getting. People who say that Nesta should get with Eris literally make me sick and I want to throw ACOSF at them. They obviously need a to read it again. People need to realize that Nesta was in the wrong in HOFAS and Rhys had every right to freak out like he did and Nesta needed to be yelled at for that. I don't blame Cassian for not stepping in. And people forget how sarcastic Nesta is and they actually take her seriously when she said that Rhys debated executing her. Like do yall really think Cassian and Feyre would allow that or that Rhys would do that to his brother and his mate?? Like come on now.

Speaking of Rhys, I don't think he was wrong for keeping the danger of feyre's pregnancy from her. As a mother of 3 myself, I would be terrified every single day if I knew that my pregnancy could end with the death of myself and/or my baby. Like I would not want to know. Pregnancy is stressful enough as it is, even with healthy ones. And this is why I don't think he was wrong for freaking out on Nesta. I mean, he almost lost his mate, his son, and his life like what, 6 months before that? Like I can't imagine how scared Rhys is every day knowing that he almost lost everything and then Nesta gave a STRANGER a MADE OBJECT from the trove and could have LOST IT to the ASTERI who could have come to their world and DESTROYED them all. GIVE RHYS A BREAK YOU GUYS!!!!! I love Nesta, love her to death, but she was wrong for that.

I have my thoughts on Gwyn. I think she's a lightsinger. I think that is what Az's shadows react to, just like Nesta reacts to her. I don't think her and Az are mates. I don't think she's attracted to Az at all. I think she wants to prove herself to him because he did see her on the most traumatic night of her life. I think she wants to prove to him and everyone around her that she is and can be strong. That's it. There is nothing more to her and Az other than trainer and trainee. I also think that Merrill is the one manipulating everything and everyone, including Gwyn who might not know that she's a lightsinger. I think Merrill is working with Koschei.

Even after all the books, I still believe that Elriel will happen. There's just too many canon moments for me to ignore to see the possibility of Elucien. I only say elucien because gwynriel isn't a canon couple. They are not canon at all. The only thing that elucien has going for them is their bond.

I think Lucien will reject the bond for Elain. Lucien isn't a bad guy. I don't think he'll fight for Elain when he knows that she does not want him or their bond. He won't let Elain become his mother. I think he will find happiness with Vassa and they will be like Elide and Lorcan.

I believe people who support elucien only care about Lucien. I mean, how could you think that Elain wants to be with him after reading the books?

Based on the story of Koschei, it's not crazy to assume it will be 3 sisters and 3 brothers. Sarah is a very predictable writer and this is what most of the fandom has expected since ACOMAF and Koschei being the last big bad confirms that. Especially when you add in Vassa and Lucien into the mix. Just read the story of Koschei and tell me I'm wrong.

I believe that Az is experiencing the effects of a mating bond with Elain. He acts more like her mate than Lucien does and there's canon proof of this.

I believe the only reason Rhys stopped Az and Elain that night was because 1. he was convinced he would die with Feyre when she gave birth and didn't want his court to be in this war with the autumn court and 2. he is a political figure and he is using elain's bond as leverage with lucien. I believe that if Elain expresses to him how she wants to reject the bond, he would support it and accept Elain and Az.

I hate how everyone focuses on Gwyn and forgets about Emerie. I don't understand why people think Gwyn would be involved with the Illyrians. She is not Ilyrian and even though she finished the blood rite, she has said she does not want that illyrian warrior title. After what she went through during the rite, I don't see her being involved with them in any way. I do believe we will hear about Emerie doing something more like that. She could be an inspiration to Ilyrian females. Speaking of the Valkyries, I don't think they should have won the blood rite. It was very unbelievable. It would have been more believable if they had hid the entire time and waited for Cassian to come find them when the week was over.

Speaking Gwyn again, I think most of her fans overhype her too much. I like Gwyn and I'm glad that Nesta has her as a friend because she needed that. But I don't think we'll ever get her POV. I mean, we heard her story. We know what happened to her and we know pretty much everything about her. We know that she doesn't want that warrior title and she went back to the library not even sure about going to Nesta's mating ceremony. I think her fans forget this. I think they see her as a self insert character. I think they over sexualize her way too much. I'm not saying that SA survivors can't have a sex life so don't come at me. I just don't think she's going to want to be tied up with ribbons while Az holds her down and "ravages" her. The same male who seen what she went through that night. That just makes me uncomfortable. I think Gwyn would be embarrassed by the majority of her fans.

I will another post about that bonus chapter because there is so much to discuss.

I hate the amount of hate Elain gets and the side of the fandom that hates her does not deserve her. There is so much to learn about her and her powers and what goes on in her mind and I can't wait for her book.

I also think that papa archeron unknowingly traded Elain and/or Feyre and Nesta in his deal with Koschei for Vassa's temporary release.

I don't understand how people could hate feysand or any other members of the inner circle. In my opinion, if you hate them then why are you reading the series?? Why are you still here?

I don't think that sarah will make Nesta or Elain an actual queen or high lady. I think that Rhys and Feyre will always be more powerful than them and I think they will be High King and High Queen when the series is over. I can't see sarah making the sisters having the same amount of power or say as much as Feyre. She has always been above them. That has been obvious since the beginning because she's always protected them and taken care of them.

If you guys remember my other posts, then you will know my thoughts on how I think the rest of the series will go. Like elriel, vassien, koschei, the queens, the prison, the dusk court, the trove, all that. Elain and Nesta are the keys and Vassa should be the one to destroy Koschei. Rhys and Feyre will be High King and High Queen with nessian and elriel at their sides and everyone lives happily ever after.

What do you guys think?

#acotar #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #elain archeron #elriel #pro elriel #azriel shadowsinger #feysand #archeron sisters #rhysand #feyre archeron #gwyneth berdara #lucien vanserra #vassa acotar

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nyxreads · 7 months

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2 + 2 = 5 ACOTAR SHIPWAR EDITION

Azriel questions the Cauldron + he wants the mated Elain Archeron = Azriel only wants a mate and Elain is the one available

Azriel spends time with Elain, rescued her, and kept her gift on his nightstand while looking at it for one whole year + Elain giving Azriel the offer and permission, didn't balk from him and called his hands beautiful = Azriel is an incel who only lusts after Elain, after one fvck he'll end up with the redhead

Elain who tracks the Suriel, foreseen Vassa, helped on planning where to place humans during the war, kicked a beast, volunteered on tracking the Dead Trove, and killing the KoH + Elain gardening, baking, and having friends on the NC = Elain is useless plant, she's passive, she plays no part on the series, only sulking.

Elain, a fae not a plant + Elain living in Night Court where sun also exists = Elain needs a sunlight!! She should live in the Spring/Autumn court! .

three mountains, three villains, three dead trove, three trials, and so and so forth + three brothers x three sisters = OMG so cliche, I hate it! I want them all to end up with their mate because it's not cliche.

Azriel desires Elain + Azriel cannot sleep properly thinking about her = oh he's sooooo toxic! He should end up with a redhead bcs she can fix him!

Azriel bought the necklace for Elain + Azriel just wanted to get rid of it, advise Clotho to even give it to other priestesses = he gave it to Gw*n! It is for her, he bought it for her♥

Elain minding her own life, gorgeous and growing. + Azriel being a total simp = He deserves someone better!! Someone I can self-insert with

Elain stabbed a king, kicked a beast that's harming them, and "I hope they all burn in hell", "she's better at secret keeping" + Azriel = He deserves better! A badass, someone who can weild a sword, we need another training lovestory!

Azriel in his full rage ready to die to save Elain + Azriel telling Cassian they trained the Valkyries so let's go save the enemy = MATES!! GW***** ENDGAME!!

Elain making Azriel laugh, Feyre never heard such deep and joyous sound, Elain calling his hand beautiful, Elain "put it on me" Archeron + Azriel always reaching for her, Azriel who made her comfortable, Azriel "this is wrong, I don't care" Archeron = They're incompatible! They don't make sense! I don't find them romantic.

Elain balked from her mate, tried to be nice but still visibly uncomfortable, Elain who's book is not out yet, Elain who was never given a choice. Elain, a woman. + Lulu, hundred year old fae, not a baby. = I hate Elain! He owes Lulu everything! She's so pick me! She should just accept the mating bond and make my Lulu so so happy, he deserves it.

Azriel who has a secret feelings for Elain + Az who doesn't consider G a friend = he's such a fvckboy! He's so toxic ugh, he needs to apologize to them and then end up with G♥

Acotar, a romantasy + Elain who has two love interest = Elain should end up alone! She needs it to grow.

Elain, existing, being gorgeous and minding her own business, Elain being a woman in this series + Azriel and Lucien simping = She doesn't deserve both of them! She should be with her sister's abuser!! Tampon needs a redemption so

Ianthe, Tamlin, Beron, KoH, all abusive and villains + Elain, the sister who owns up to her mistakes and tried to fix her relationship with her sisters. Elain who is hopeful and kind. Elain who is a quiet dreamer = Elain deserves to be the most hated character, she's so useless.

Acotar a fantasy book where the dead came back to life, so any magic can happen + SJM, who's adopted and loved her adaptive parents. Sjm who wrote books empowering women. = Elain doesn't have a pliant bone!! She cannot have Az baby so not endgame 😕

Elain and Azriel exchanging meaningful looks, brushing fingers, Azriel following the sound of her laugh, something charged between them, Elriel confirmed to desire each other + Az regifting a necklace because it reminds him of what happened between them, causing him pain = ACOSF ended Elriel

This is just one of the many arguments where a simple canon was twisted to fit on the wanted narrative. This is not how a story goes. A reader cannot control or forced the author on what they want to happen. Think of what the character can bring to the story, how they can make an impact and if they can move the plot forward. It will be very hard to enjoy a series if we keep on denying what's written on the books. Sjm has been clear. She could place other character on Azriel position or vice versa but she didn't. There's so many parallels between Elriel and sjm endgame couples. There's so many hints but the fandom twisted it because they simply hate Elain. They thought she's not deserving of love, of her own choice.

At the end of the day, Elriel is hated because some people cannot accept Elain is going to end up with Az and they thought she's less than for so many reasons they believed. It all rooted from internal misogyny.

So many lies/misinformation and total crap was spread in this fandom all because of Elain hate

How can you continue a series when you filled yourself all the lies and hate towards the character?

#good thing this is not my problem #basically all the arguments I see #elriel #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger

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achaotichuman · 2 months

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Okay you guys know what time it is.

Acotar Rant Time.

Okay, I know, I know, the idea that Tamlin will step down or otherwise hand the Spring Court over to Lucien and Elain and go to live his life as a travelling musician is one of the most popular theories (it most of the time involves Tam dying but I don't like that at all so we're going with him stepping down)

And whilst I see it as a possibility for canon, I cannot get on board with it, specifically because of the way the High lord's power chooses the next High lord.

Tamlin knew he was most likely the next heir since he was young, he was experiencing the power when he was a child and knew his brothers would kill him if they ever found out. He hoped that one of them could take the throne and he would serve in their armies and simply keep his head down low.

But what he wanted didn't change the fact that he was in fact the Heir.

The magic had already chosen him as its next High lord, despite him being the youngest and on the surface, the least worthy of the role.

This happens again within the books. Tarquin was chosen as the High lord of Summer, despite being Norstrus' cousin, and Varian technically being the next viable Heir. Tarquin would have hardly been trained for the position but would have been trained to be some kind of advisor or courtier for whoever the next High lord may be, assuming it would be Varian.

He even admits to Feyre that is young and considered inexperienced yet he tries his best and look, he ends up doing the same sort of thing Tamlin wanted to achieve. Which was taking in refugees, fighting for people's freedom, and trying to establish equality. I love Varian but he fell in love with a monster that wants Rhysand to take over Prythian, so I do not believe he would have tried to implement these changes. Possibly would not have even thought of them.

I say this to show that the magic chooses who will benefit the Court best, even skipping to other bloodlines if need be.

I believe this is the same for Tamlin.

When you read book 1, he is incredibly similar to Tarquin. He was not trained for the position but was trained to act as a kind of second, in assuming the form of a General. Same kind of thing as Tarquin.

He admits he is considered inexperienced but is trying his best. He fought for people's freedom, he took in refugees and post acomaf had a pretty equal Court.

My personal theory with what happened during Acomaf was a combination of many factors.

1- Amarantha most likely raped Tamlin under the mountain. Considering how she was lusting after him, she finally got him for weeks and he could do nothing but let her do what she wanted.

2- Being under the mountain brought up suppressed trauma from his childhood, most of which would have revolved around Amarantha, but also not being able to protect Feyre would have brought up not being able to protect his mother. Being tormented by his brothers. Being abused by his father. Then when they came out from Under the mountain, he wasn't able to suppress his trauma so well anymore, and become erratic and unpredictable.

3- Having the High lord's powers shoved back into him so suddenly caused him to lose control, and because he, unlike literally everyone else. Had no one to help him manage his magic, or help him control it properly. As Rhysand and Morrigan have stated multiple times throughout the series, especially in Silver Flames, uncontrolled magic will lead to madness. It can drive a person to literal insanity, which is what I think happened in the case of Tamlin (It was retconning but I am looking at the ways of which to bring back book-1 Tam within canon rules)

All of this to say, these are all outside factors things that could not be predicted. By looking at the factors of who would be best fit for Spring, Tamlin is the obvious choice.

He is empathetic. Connects well with the people. Fights for what is right and for freedom. He is kind and caring.

Post-Under the Mountain, and presumably post-curse Tamlin was one of the best High lords, his Court was thriving, his people were happy and even gladly went to their deaths for him and his Court.

The magic didn't chose wrong. It chose Tamlin for a reason. He was the best choice to bring about good change within the Spring Court.

I believe all of the outside factors are what led to Tamlin relying on his father's way of ruling, because he was unable to dig out a whole new path in the state he was in. Tamlin was living in fight or flight mode from Acomaf and onward and it shows.

I think Lucien would be a great High lord, but we also underestimate how the power is connected to the land itself and like it or not Lucien is not of Spring.

He is of Day and Autumn. It shows in his mannerisms, his personality, his way of thinking. And it will show in his power.

He will not be able to connect to the people the way Tamlin will, because Tamlin's magic comes the heart of Spring itself. He was literally forged for it. The Spring magic will be alien to Lucien, and Lucien will be alien to it.

We see how uncontrolled magic can affect the person it was built for. Now imagine that magic also not being built for the person using it. Lucien has no reason to even be able to control it, it would drive him insane as well.

If Tamlin was given someone to help train his magic, like Rhysand had Amren, Tarquin had Varian and Cressedia, Eris will have his mother and brothers, and Lucien will have Helion. He would be in full control.

Like a quote from an SJM interview stated, the characters find who they need, not what they want. Tamlin may have started out not wanting the throne, but he may very well find what he needs to control his magic and bring back his Court.

Tamlin was forged for Spring. Like Lucien was forged for Day.

Unless Sjm kills Tamlin, I highly doubt he will cease being High lord any day.

And if she does kill him, I am disappearing from this fandom because Tamlin is the only one keeping me here.

#pro tamlin #acotar #tamlin #acotar headcanons #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acotar headcannons #acotar rant

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sukaaxo · 7 months

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my hot take is imagine that Rhys didn’t suddenly turn into the good guy with reasoning for all is actions…… but Feyre turned into a villain so it all BECAME justified in her mind.

just think, last chapter of the last book and it’s just Rhys’s pov as he’s being crowned High King, congratulating himself on how well he manipulated everyone into thinking he was a good guy.

something like:

***

Feyre sat by my side looking down at the fae lingering below, her excitement and happiness seeping through the bond and battling with mine. Except my happiness obviously wasn’t for the same reasons. Sweet Feyre. Sweet oblivious Feyre. Her hand gripped mine and she turned her shining eyes and soft smile my way. I properly studied her. Looked deep into her face. She’s rather plain i realised, plainest of the 3 sisters. Indeed rather boring compared to the fae females i’ve come across in my years, fucked in my years. Even Nesta’s cold but ereatheral looks caused more lust in me, her power especially made my soul sing and i knew i would’ve had a fun time pinning her beneath me. Unfortunately the Mother fated her to another. Jolting out my thoughts at the squeeze of my hand, I eventually returned a smile to Feyre but it felt more like a grimace and must’ve shown as her grin faltered and eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Rhys….. are you ok?” her voice filtered into my mind and i just looked away, not bothering to pretend anymore as i let my disgust and mockery at her fly down our bond. She gasped as it hit her, visibly recoiling away from me with tears in her eyes. Cassian moved to her side in a flash, hand on his sword sheath, scanning for whatever he thought had affected her enough to make her flinch. Even though i had no use for my ‘brothers’ anymore i felt i would miss them. I had grown to look upon them fondly and even at times felt a bang of guilt at lying so easily to them. Maybe i could convince them to follow me. Cassian looked worriedly between me and my so called High Lady, i scoffed internally at the thought, before locking eyes with me confused, mouth opening to say something but before he could the crowd hushed and i turned back towards them.

I looked across at the High Lords all seated, all sensing a change in the air as my walls lowered. The only one staring at me without movement or worry was Tamlin. Tamlin. The thorn in my side throughout my years. He was always there foiling my words. He never believed my stories, never believed my lies about UTM, peace and prosperity. Never believed my participation in the War on the side of Prythian. The only fae i grew to respect and even admire. We would’ve been unstoppable if he’d been by my side, he being both the youngest and most powerful Spring High Lord to exist. Alas, once he figured out that it was me who set up the murder of my entire family and his, he refused every attempt at contact i tried. That…. hurt. However now that i no longer needed to pretend i cared about the snivelling wretch in the chair next to me, maybe we could re connect. I locked eyes with him and could almost see their green narrow like a snake my way and i felt his magic slither out, tasting mine in the air. The corners of his mouth turned up as he felt my truth, finally. I raised an eyebrow ever so slightly at him and suddenly he was gone. Vanished into his winnow. But the tilt of his head in my direction as he left gave me hope. We would be friends once again.

The other High Lords jumped up, turning to where Tamlin had disappeared and staring at me in a panic but it was too late. The crown landed on my head, the High King power suddenly coursing through my veins making me take a deep breath in. The fear and regret on everyone’s faces as i finally unleashed my dark aura was pleasurable.

A familiar slow smirk spread onto my face,

“Let’s begin”

***

#lucien vanserra #acotar #tamlin #rhys acotar #rhysand #anti feyre #feyre acotar #feyre x tamlin #anti rhysand #night court #pro tamlin #tamsand #fanfic #f

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infinitefolklore · 14 days

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Elucien Fanfic Master Post

In The Darkness Before the Dawn, Leave a Light On

About: Elain is sent to the Mortal Lands to live with Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa to work on her Seer abilities, find a way to break Vassa's curse, and try to discover information about Koschei. Elain and Lucien are forced to live and work together, and get to know one another along the way.

Status: In Progress

Tropes/Tags: Forced Proximity, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Mutual Pining, Lust, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Canon Compliant

A Little Bit of Light Reading

About: Elain is all alone at the Town House and Lucien makes a surprise appearance. They decide to "explore the mating bond," but for how long can they keep it a secret? And what happens when the Inner Circle starts meddling in their business? Note: This fic became slightly AU towards the end!

Status: Complete; 43 Chapters; 120,896 words

Tropes/Tags: Smut, Dirty Jokes, Secret Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Drama, Banter, Library Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Family Shenanigans, Sneaking Around, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Fluff without Plot, Drama Llama, Fist Fights, Jealousy, Love Triangles

Little Dove

About: Human!Elain and Fox!Lucien. This is a slight canon divergence deleted scene. After Feyre is taken to Spring Court, Tamlin sends Lucien to go check on the Archeron Estate. Lucien finds Elain all alone and offers her some company. Elain discusses her upcoming betrothal to Graysen, and Lucien tries to convince her to change her mind.

Status: Complete; One Shot; 10,895 words

Tropes/Tags: Alternate Canon, Deleted Scenes, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, One Shot, Fox Mask Lucien, Flirtatious Rake Lucien, Inexperienced Elain, Flirting

Healer in the Night

About: Lucien has been away on the continent on a mission. No one has heard from him in over two months. Elain is worried. On a dark and stromy night, he shows up bloody on her doorstep. Elain nurses him back to health.

Status: Complete; 5 Chapters; 12,750 words

Tropes/Tags: Healing, Injury, Injury Recovery, Angst, Fluff, Elain takes care of Lucien, Lucien is a gentleman, And a flirt, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Mating Bond, Eventual Smut, because everyone convinces me to write smut

Meet Me On The Battlefield

About: Lucien is captured by Koschei and our poor fox boy doesn't think anyone is coming to save him. He's wrong.

Status: Complete; 6 Chapters; 12,022 words

Tropes/Tags: Dungeon, Prison, Torture, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst, Mention of torture, blood and injuries, don't worry this will have a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Final Battle, Lucien is hopeless, Then he changes his mind, I don't want to give too much away in the tags, Lucien Vanserra-centric

Four Minutes

About: The Night Court attends a party in Dawn Court. Lucien finds out some information and turns into an absolute flirt. There's ballroom dancing, except hot. Elain can barely contain herself.

Status: Complete; 4 Chapters; 12,425 words

Tropes/Tags: Ballroom Dancing, Forced Proximity, Regency Romance, Lucien is a flirt, hot and bothered, Lust, Longing, Drinking, alcohol use, Gossip, Song Lyrics, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Teasing, Smut Obviously

Solstice Traditions

About: Lucien comes to the River House on Winter Solstice eve with another gift for Elain. He is pleasantly surprised by her reaction.

Status: Complete; 3 Chapters; 16,198 words

Tropes/Tags: Winter Solstice, holiday fluff, Gift Exchange, Cute, Fluff, Mating Bond, Smut, Honestly was not planning smut but you all asked for it, absolute filth, Elain wears lingerie

ENJOY <333

#elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #fanfic #fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #a03 #elucien fanfiction #lucien vanserra fanfic #elain archeron fanfic #smut fanfic #fluff fanfic #emotional fanfic

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tadpolesonalgae · 8 months

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Beast form!Tamlin x reader: The Great Rite[***]

A/N: so, this is a prequel to The Aftermath of Spring because most of you should know by now that I love anything to do with monsterfucking :)

Warnings: smut, monsterfucking, bondage (vines)

He’d requested you stay in your rooms that night, and you’d been too timid at the time to inquire about his seemingly out-of-the-blue request. So you’d gone home, and shut and bolted your door.

But the drums are pounding, and even as High Fae you find it strenuous work to resist that heavy beat that thunders through your being.

You’re enough of a female to admit you’re harbouring concerns about the night. It’s well-known what will happen, what activities your High Lord will engage in. You can admit you’re worried your efforts will be in vain. You’ve grown alarmingly fond of him, with his affections for poetry, and affinity for the fiddle. It’s not a lie to say you’re jealous of whichever female he chooses to bed tonight.

It’s the final straw, the final fracture that catalyses your violation of his request. You want him to be yours, and you want him to call you his. There’s nothing else to be considered really once the conclusion reaches you. You’ve made your decision. And with a heart that’s pounding in time to the alluring drums, you unlock your door, silently slinking out into the hallways of your estate, heading for the bonfires.

————

Bonfire smoke tints the air, smelling so alluring and delicious as you follow it through the cluster of trees. Fire gleams in the distance, sparks and embers dancing between shadows as the centre of the revelry comes into sight. The drums thrum through the ground, reverberating up your feet into your ankles.

It’s the one night deemed acceptable for a Lady like yourself to dress with these unfavourable intentions in mind, and you indulge in the level of freedom you’re afforded, forgoing any slippers, or even a night robe to conceal your thin slip. You blend right into the crowd with your revealing dress, ankles and wrists on show for any male to peek at. It’s exhilarating.

But it’s missing something.

The eyes feel wondrous on your skin, licking and nipping at you with male intent, but they’re not his eyes. They aren’t emerald flecked with gold: a spring glade with threads of sunlight spooling between the leaves, creating dappled shade upon the lush undergrowth. You want his eyes dancing over your bared body, you want him to be the one silently considering ways to get you into bed.

The drums are reaching their climax—you don’t have long left before he’s forced to make his decision. He’ll make his choice without knowing the full extent of his crop. How will he pluck you out from the crowd is he isn’t even aware of your presence? The thought dampens your mood, leading you to wonder away from the fires, seeking the cool reprieve of the forest for comfort. You wish to mope in peace, bemoan the missed opportunity.

Leaves rustle at your back, but you leave the noise be. It’s most likely a pair of tangled bodies, coupling in the eves of the long night, getting a head start on the inevitable activities. A twig snaps, close enough by that you get to your feet, drying your dampened eyes as you plan to relocate yourself. You aren’t too keen on inadvertently getting an eyeful of misplaced lust when you’re in such low spirits.

Yet when you turn, you come to face a creature the size of a horse, its features distinctly lupine in their structure, large antlers protruding from its skull. Your attention is drawn to the green eyes piercing from golden fur, trained upon your form with razor-sharp intent. Tamlin.

You feel your muscles stiffen, still in the motions of drying your eyes. Slowly, you lower you arms in favour of crossing them over your chest, keeping yourself as concealed as possible. All too suddenly, your clothes feel insubstantial, like you should be dressed more modestly before him.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, words dragging from his animal throat with pleasing roughness. You shake your head slightly, averting your gaze elsewhere, fingers twining together at your front, “I was not crying, my Lord. The night must have tricked you.”

“I have not known you to keep things from me?” He inquires gently, moving forward with feline grace on his large paws, and you can hear the distinct frown in his voice. “Tell me: what has caused your sadness? I would like to right it.” Your teeth find placement within your lip, tugging gently as you make the effort to straighten; appear unruffled and dignified. “I assure you, my Lord, it is nothing for you to concern yourself with. I was merely out enjoying the festivities, you see, as I’m sure you will soon be, too.” A veiled question—to pry whether he’s taken a female yet, or whether you still have a chance. Slim as it may be.

This time his golden brow does furrow, “I have not known you to lie to me, either,” he remarks, a little sternly. It’s surprisingly difficult to remain calm beneath his scrutinising gaze, not to shift or fumble. But he huffs out a low breath, eyes gleaming as he again looks to you, “walk with me.” You don’t have in you to reject the order, so you take a few steps forward, careful to keep the distance respectful. His eyes mark your bare feet, zipping up your ankles to where the hem of your night dress starts.

The two of you move in companionable silence for quite a way, moving through the soft grass and moss, small fireflies and will-o-wisps dancing about between trees. “Have you been delighting in the revelry?” He asks, breaking the peaceful quiet that you’d settled into. You nod your head demurely, keeping up your act, “I have, indeed. There were a few dances that had me particularly breathless,” you tell him, making your words sound slightly embarrassed.

Silvery moonlight catches on his claws before they’re retracting back into his large paws. You peer up at him then, only to find his attention already on you, eyes gleaming. Hurriedly, you turn your gaze elsewhere, attempting to track the shift of the winds to remove your focus from him. “Strange,” he remarks, and you could swear you hear a smile in his word, “I didn’t see you amongst the revellers.”

It’s an effort to keep yourself from stiffening beneath his intense gaze, piercing into you as if he knows the reason you crept from your room after he specifically requested you remain inside. For what reason, though?

“You must have been preoccupied with your fiddling,” you retort primly, perfectly aware of the insinuation you’ve just made. A pleasant laugh drags form his throat, having something warm and liquid lighting in your lower belly. “I could show you, if you’d like,” he drawls, lips curving into a feline smile.

You stop in your tracks, head spinning as you turn to face him. He’s also come to a halt, watching you with the intense green of his, nostrils flaring delicately. A soft snarl rumbles in his chest as the wind blows past you, carrying your scent for him to get drunk on. “I beg your pardon?” You manage, slightly hoarsely.

The High Lord laughs lowly; quietly at your stammer. “I said: I could show you. My fiddle still remains beside a bonfire. I would happily play for you,” he supplies, turning to face forward. “It wouldn’t be for long, as there are still duties I have yet to fulfil, but for the moment…” his eyes flick to yours in question. Your heart drums against your chest, beating and pounding at his attention, the apparent vulnerability in those emerald and gilt eyes.

You turn away, averting your gaze so he cannot see the nerves that are sizzling beneath your skin, frying and scrambling your mind. “I would not want to withhold you from your duties, High Lord. I think I’ve stolen enough of your time as it is. You should not keep the night waiting.” He makes a low sound in his throat in reply, pausing before resuming conversation, as if he had hoped you might change your mind. “Then, allow me to assure you safe passage back to the festivities, at least. To be sure your lovely dancing-feet don’t give out from your revelry,” he says softly, his charm almost a tangible thing in the night air.

Delving through your mind, no words come to hand that would be a polite dissuasion, so all you can do is gracefully accept his offer. You turn to make the walk back, but something like a laugh resounds in his chest, making you pause. “What do you find so amusing?” You ask, resisting the urge to return his good nature as you peer at him.

He prowls closer, coming to a stop beside you, near enough you can feel his warmth grazing your arms, hairs rising with awareness. “It’s a night of extravagance, of indulging in decadence,” he says smoothly, but you still don’t understand. When he settles to the ground, great paws tucking beneath him, you begin to get the idea. “It would not be right for me to allow you to wonder back on those feet of yours. A Lady should not walk when she has no need to.”

Heat flushes your cheeks, lips parting in barely concealed astonishment. “You—… You are asking me to ride you?” You ask, disbelievingly. His smile broadens to a grin, the same one he’d shown you multiple times past, seemingly just for you, “you have quite the tongue for implications, don’t you?” You flush further, replaying your words. “But yes, that is what I am asking,” he says, watching you carefully. You manage what you hope is a vaguely confident nod, before approaching him.

“Is it…acceptable to put my hands upon you, my Lord?” You ask, unsure how you would manage to mount him otherwise. “More than acceptable, Lady. I would argue it is expected,” he laugh softly. You swallow your embarrassment, stepping into him as your hands find purchase in the soft locks of fur, swinging your leg over him. He goes slightly rigid beneath you, and you pray to the Mother he can’t feel the nakedness of your heat though your dress—thin as it is. But then he raises onto his paws, muscle shifting beneath you, and your thoughts are banished.

And as he begins the slow wonder back the way you’d come, you feel your muscles lose their tension, melting into the solid heat beneath you.

————

“Thank you for the…company, my Lord,” you say, curtsying slightly before his large frame. You have a feeling ride wouldn’t have been the right word choice.

Heat is warming your bones, but he seems to be lending you the courtesy of not mentioning what is probably an obvious shift in scent by now. Most likely because you are doing the same for him. No sooner than you had mounted him, you’d been wrapped in the scent of his arousal, light enough to blend seamlessly into his usual fragrance.

You stand opposite one another, silence stretching between you as you anxiously wring your finger behind your back. The thought alone of that distinct scent has you aching in response. You consider it a perfectly normal reaction to be having to your High Lord upon this particular night, affording yourself yet another excuse. “It was my pleasure,” he says, green eyes gleaming beneath the moonlight, and you can pick out the sparks from the bonfires reflecting in the depths of his gaze. Piercing in their intensity. “I would invite you to enjoy the night to its fullest, Lady,” he rumbles, talons protruding from his paws as if to keep him in place. “And I for you, Lord.”

The wind blows toward you, and you’re once again wrapped within his scent, powerful and comfortingly masculine with a soft undertone that has your toes curling in the grass. “I hope you do well by your Court, on this eve,” you add, wishing to spend a little more of yourself on his time—selfish as it may be.

Again, those green eyes flick over you, glinting with something too fleeting to place. But then he’s taking a step forward; your heart spikes, foolish illusions forming themselves in your mind’s eye. “You came out of your room tonight,” he says, softly enough it’s a struggle for your ears to pick out the words. When you figure them out, however, you stiffen. This is the conversation you had been hoping to avoid. “It’s Calanmai,” you reason with surprising ease, “I would like to enjoy the perks of the celebration like every other female.”

He regards you, taking another set of steps forward. His scent becomes more overpowering with each inch gained, heart picking up at his closeness. “Why lie to me?” He asks, catching you off guard. You blink, and it’s the confirmation he needs. “You weren’t dancing with the revellers,” he says, softly.

“And I suppose you would know because you fiddled at every bonfire?” You ask in the same soft tone. The smile he gives you is a little feral, “I would know, because the magic of this night took me to your estate, just as I had anticipated.” You go preternaturally still as his words fall on your pointed ears. “And yet here you are, out in the forests when I had specifically requested your absence this night.”

You flush as you put together his pieces. His scent, the unusual forwardness, the…ride. “Forgive me,” you murmur, quietly, “I had no intention of—”

The wind changes.

Steadily, your scent catches on the cool breeze, winding and wrapping around him as his own had with you. His pupils contracts, talons sliding deeper into the soil with restraint, nostrils flaring as his body goes rigid. Muscle tightens, lip curling slightly as his attention centres on the dip between your thighs. “I suggest you leave, now,” he manages, voice strained with tension.

But the magic had called him to you, and you to him. Surely there was reason for the drums holding more allure than they had in past years. Maybe it’s not a weak will that has led you to this circumstance.

You take a small step forward, his pupils contracting further, muscle trembling as your scent envelopes him. “Tamlin…” you begin, taking another small step toward the towering beast. Then his pupils are dilating, filling the marvellously rich green of his iris’, almost swallowing them whole. “I don’t want—” he manages. “I want you, but…”

“But what?” You ask. “This is the purpose of the Rite. Nothing to be concerned about.” But the shake in your voice betrays your emotions.

“I want you to want it, too,” he rasps, strain evident in his jaw; the harsh line of muscle up his paws.

You nod, taking that last step forward. If he lowers his neck, he’ll be able to press his vulpine nose against you. “I do,” you murmur, “I do want you, Tamlin.”

A low snarl sounds in his throat, his name seeming to be his undoing as he takes a sudden step forward, pushing into your stomach with enough force to knock you to the mossy ground. Your eyes widen, attempting to gather yourself but vines and roots are crawling about your body, winding hastily up your calves and thighs, pulling up your night dress until you’re bare in the night.

His eyes seem to glow in the dark, magic thrumming beneath his skin as your heart follows the drum of his power. “You’re sure?” He asks gutturally, somehow keeping himself at bay a little longer. “I’m not— I don’t want to hurt you.” Your eyes lock, and you’re aware that you’re panting, heat swelling in your chest the longer you look at him.

Slowly, tentatively, you latch your fingers at the hem of your night dress. His gaze narrows on your hands as you raise the material over your head, leaving you naked for him, “I trust you, Tamlin.” His eyes hold enough anguish for you to grasp the depth of his concerns—he doesn’t want to ruin whatever it is that’s flourishing between you. “Have you ever hurt anyone before? During the Rite?” You ask. He manages a shake of his head, and you nod in response. “I believe you,” you say, relaxing beneath the roots and vines constraining your lower body. “And I trust you, Tamlin,” you repeat, letting him feel your sincerity.

“I’m here: take me.”

Vines wrap around your waist, hugging your skin as they circle over your breasts, coiling around your nipples before snaking down your arms. They don’t pull, or guide, simply hold you—make no mistake he could move you as he pleased if he wished. Hooked talons gleam in the moonlight, eyes glowing with inner power as he stalks forward. “Is that why you stumbled out of your lovely estate?” He drawls, voice roughening with carnal hunger as he towers over you. “You wanted to find me, too?”

Unimaginable lust melts the arousal in the pit of your belly, turning it to something liquid and molten as he settles on his paws before you. You try not to be embarrassed at the position, how he can see everything between your legs. How turned on you are: gleaming beneath the stars. “Yes,” you swallow. “I was hoping to find you.”

His lip curls in a soft snarl, prowling forward while keeping low to the ground, “if I had known I could be so forward with you, I wouldn’t have waited all these months to have you in my bed.” His admission has your pulse spiking, has your legs widening a little more. His eyes glitter with dark hunger, noting the gesture; the invitation. His snout roughly nudges your thighs further apart, vines constricting as they follow his will. Heat prickles your skin, awareness lighting your body as a cool spring breeze licks over your nakedness.

A quiet breath escapes your lips as he presses between your legs, your panting becoming deeper. “Oh, gods,” you stammer shakily, his eyes flicking up to you in pleasure. Then his jaw is opening, his slightly rough tongue dragging flatly over your heat, passing through your centre. “Tamlin…!” You breathe, muscles tensing at the abrupt stimulation. A sound of deep, male satisfaction purrs through his chest, repeating the action with firmer intent.

Your lips part, spine arching as the vines slither and slide over your skin, giving attention to every nerve ending. “I…what?” You stammer, mind fumbling from the pleasure. Your teeth find your lower lip as his tongue starts moving eagerly over you, the textured scrape over your clit making your eyes roll to the back of your skull. When he purrs with pleasure, the wet muscle vibrates, sending those quick-fire pulses straight to your nerves, and you shudder.

When a startled moan slips from your lips, he growls, eyes flickering as if he’s warring for control within himself. Hunger glitters in his darkened gaze, and one large paw lands possessively over your abdomen, spanning your entire stomach. A humiliating whimper drags from your throat at the delicious pressure, one leg hooking over his other paw, toes curling in the grass.

“Tamlin…” you pant, loving the way his talons hook around your waist, keeping you pinned beneath him. But it’s comforting, you feel secure instead of trapped. He growls in pleasure, and more moans spill from your parted lips, arching into him, almost trembling with the effort to keep all this euphoria within you. It simply builds, and builds, pressure intensifying beneath your skin until you know you’re going to snap.

Your mouth opens in a silent moan, head tipping back as his paw presses a little harder over you. The tapered end of the wet muscle presses against your entrance, the base part of his tongue pushing into your clit, purring roughly as he feels you tighten once, the sign you’re about to tip over the edge. He growls with male pleasure as your body relaxes into his vines, melting into his power as pleasure floods your blood, singing beneath your skin.

His name is a mantra in your mouth, repeating over and over again like it’s the only word you know, the only word you can remember as your vision flashes light and dark. “Tamlin…” you beg quietly, pleading for him not to stop, to let you continue on this high as your legs spasm and your body goes limp.

Your vision is somewhat blurred when you softly float down from your high, and you have to blink away the dampness. Your skin is gleaming with sweat, heart pounding in your chest as heat ravages your body and you have this need, this incessant need to push your legs wider. You need to have him, want and need and need and want him so badly you feel like the world is whirling inside of you.

His vines release you enough for you to attempt shifting, but you’re so sensitive that you tremble. “Tamlin, I…” you murmur, looking up at him desperately, but then your attention catches between his hind legs, and you could sigh with relief.

The vines tighten and constrict around your form, finally taking advantage of you as you’re moved to his pleasure, flipping you onto your arms and legs—feet flat against the ground as you’re bent until your palms are planted in the grass. You flush wildly at the position, leaning heavily into the vines to keep you balanced at such a sharp angle. You’re completely open to him, and you watch from between your own legs as he prowls forward.

Your hair slides up over your shoulders from the slant of your spine, brushing the ground as you feel him put himself over you—the soft fur of his stomach brushing silkily against your back, his front paws landing further beyond your own arms, hind legs just behind your feet.

You could cry when you feel his tip nestling against your entrance, the bare, soft skin surrounding that area hot and gentle against your ass. “Tamlin…” you beg, whimpering with need, “please…” He growls in response, talons slipping out from his knuckles, digging into the soil as he rubs himself over your wet heat. “Hold still,” he growls, the syllables of his order rasping against your pointed ears. You keep as still as possible for him, needing to have him pounding you into the mossy bed as soon as possible. With muscles like his, lining his body with feline grace, you doubt he’ll have any struggle doing so.

“Breathe in,” he commands. You do so, right as he pushes in. The air whooshes from your lungs as you take the first few inches, limbs trembling; going weak with pleasure. “Breathe in,” he repeats, a low snarl. The inherent dominance he has over you as High Lord forcing you to take in a gulp of air. Your vision clears, and he pushes in deeper. You curse softly, making him chuckle. “I had no idea you possessed such a foul mouth,” he growls, shifting his paws to rest over the roots of a nearby tree, levelling himself. “What other sounds will you make for me tonight, sparrow?”

You bite back a moan as he sinks those last few inches into you, creating such intense pressure within your abdomen it’s a wonder you don’r reach your high right then and there. “I’ll sing for you until my lungs blow out,” you breathe, pressing back against him, so it’s skin against skin, the delicious weight of him at your back. He groans, the husky sounds reverberating through your back, going from the tips of your toes to the peaks of your nipples, vines flicking over them playfully.

“Please, Tamlin…” you breathe, rolling your hips back against him, “please move.” He laughs lowly, as he pulls back, then slowly glides in, shoving the air from your chest. “You like being full up, don’t you?” He asks roughly, hips dragging back once again, further this time, before pressing back inside, tipping you forward ever so slightly. “Yes,” you murmur in reply, “love it.”

Tamlin snarls softly, finally dragging back all the way, reassured you can take him without being in pain, as he finally slams in. A loud, high-pitched moan spills from your lips, toes and fingers curling in the grass as he repeats the action. He raises his front paws, burying his talons into the tree so he can put his weight behind each thrust, cock dragging over those spots that have white dots dancing across your sight.

Words leave your mind as he sets the pace, one that keeps the pleasure flowing without turning too rough, or sloppy. You’re not sure you could handle him if he really decided to be rough, but then again…

He hits deep inside of you and you’re so relieved those vines are holding you firmly in place. Securing you beneath him so he’s free to pound into you, use you exactly how he wants. A scream spills from your lips as he doesn’t let up, continues giving you that pleasure, heat building and coiling as the pressure intensifies. All over again you can feel yourself tightening around him, ready to unravel, to spring free, then release everything.

He can sense it and it spurs him on, hips bucking upward as he slightly changes the angle, twitching inside of you once as you tighten. “Tamlin, I…” you can’t form the words, don’t even know what you’re trying to say but he purrs in response, as if he can understand. The reverberations strum through you, and you fall. You topple over that edge, fluttering around him and he roars in response.

Your eyes roll back as he spills into you, hot spurts of liquid pumping you full, so much that he spills down your thighs, so much you feel every part of your inner heat swell with his come. The world goes black, and then you’re thrown into a storm of pleasure, rough waves cresting over you, taking you under as you fight for breath; as it overwhelms you entirely.

You’re shaking and trembling when he at last finishes, the final drops of his release pumping you to the brim, stuffing you full as he pulls away. The vines slowly release you, gently enough that you don’t immediately hit the floor, instead settling into the spongy moss. Your breaths come out in deep, hurried pants, hauling air into your body as you begin to recover from the intensity of the night.

Magic crackles at your back, and then warm, sturdy arms are wrapping beneath your middle, pulling you back into a firm chest. You melt against him as he presses kiss after kiss to your temple. He keeps you against him, set between his powerful thighs as he strokes your skin lightly.

The moon still gleams over head, the drums a far off beat, over the hills and through the trees. From another world entirely. In this world—in your world—it’s just him. Him with his arms around you, keeping you warm and comforted as your sight darkens into sleep.

You pass into night with the soft press of his mouth to your hair, fingers grazing your skin with infinite care, as if worried he’ll break you with too much force.

His scent is the last thing you remember before you’re swallowed entirely into oblivion.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

#Tamlin #Tamlin x reader #beast form! Tamlin x reader #beast form! Tamlin #monsterfucking #Tamlin monsterfucking #Hallowed High Lords #Tamlin smut #Tamlin x reader smut #beast form! tamlin x reader smut #The Great Rite #The Aftermath of Spring

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acourtofthought · 3 months

Text

It is truly a disturbing thing when some use arguments like "he wanted to get down on his knees for her" or "he is panting over her arousal" for E/riel as a guarantee of endgame, that Az's lust for Elain is somehow proof of their compatability or lasting potential.

Tamlin lusted after Feyre too. Were they healthy together? Were they meant to be together?

"But Az questioned the Cauldron!"

This was Tamlin in ACOFAS:

And Tamlin in ACOSF:

Tamlin knows Feyre is mated to Rhysand yet he still loves her as recently as Silver Flames, regardless of what the Cauldron decided for her, regardless of who she's mated to.

If readers like Az at all, you'd think they'd be desparate for him to find his own mate, someone he doesn't have to spend time wondering "why". Feeling depressed that neither Mor or Elain ended up as his mate just as Tamlin has ended up depressed that he lost Feyre.

At least Tamlin seems to love Feyre regardless of her having a bond with someone else versus Az who is focused on the bond itself and not Elain as an individual.

Feyre gave away the jewelry Tamlin once gave her, Elain returned the jewelry she received from Az.

Tamlin once tried to protect Feyre from having to do anything dangerous and Az spoke out against Elain doing something dangerous.

Tamlin's temper led him to destructive behaviors and Az's temper has led him to starting fights with his High Lord and High Lady, sulking when he didn't get his way, being arrogant at the thought of killing an ally.

The love of Tamlin and Feyre is the cautionary tale of series yet some are trying to force Elain and Az down that exact path and gloating about the similarities as if it's something to be proud of rather than seeing it for the warning it is.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #anti e/riel #gwynriel #pro lucien vanserra

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autumnshighlady · 1 year

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oh my god yes please

here you go my love ;)

How Eris, Azriel, Rowan, and Tamlin carve their names into your body

tw: 18+ (duh, minors piss off), knifeplay, bloodplay, dark themes, stalking, spanking, toxic relationship

note: this is 100% inspired by @gothicbabydollz fic linked here, it's amazing! thank you to @orangejump-suit for pointing me in the direction of it!

based on this ask

ERIS

You squirmed underneath the ropes, tugging at the red silk that held your wrists locked together. Two more strips bound your ankles to the bed frame keeping your legs spread open for the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

“Now, now, little fox,” Eris purred, nipping your hip with his sharp canines. “Quit whining. You know exactly why you’re here, don’t you?”

You nodded, biting your lip. After Eris ignored you for three days, you had decided to flirt with one of his brothers during a ball to get his attention. It had worked, the High Lord visibly seething from the other side of the room as you playfully touched his brother’s arm and laughed at something he had said.

At your silence, Eris reached up and landed a sharp crack across your cheek. You gasped, the imprint of his rings stinging your flushed skin.

“Answer me when I ask you a question, whore.” Eris hissed, using the same hand that had just met your cheek to grip your throat. “If you want to act like a slut then you shall get treated like one.”

You couldn’t help it – his words sent heat rushing to your core. It did not go unnoticed. “Pathetic.” Eris laughed, releasing your throat. “You like this, knowing I can do whatever I please to your body and you will be absolutely dripping. Since you want to act like a dumb slut, I believe it’s time you be reminded of who you belong to.”

You whimpered, expecting one of the usual punishments – perhaps a whipping with his favourite leather belt. But your eyes flickered to his slender hands reaching towards the dagger strapped to his hip, widening when he unsheathed the blade.

“My Lord?” You stuttered, heart racing, but not entirely with fear.

Eris pressed the cold blade flat against your stomach, smirking as you flinched. “Be very still for me, little fox.”

Huffing, you nodded. The High Lord smirked sadistically as he dragged the blade downwards, resting the tip on the pelvic area right above your pussy. Grabbing your hip with his free hand, he pressed the tip against your skin and carved. You gasped, eyes watering at the stinging sensation. It burned, and you whimpered and tried to keep your eyes open, just as Eris preferred.

E. Beads of blood began dripping from the wound.

R. The coldness of the blade contrasting with the warmth of Eris’ hand made your brain fuzzy.

I. The High Lord’s face was focused, green eyes almost black with lust as he artfully dug the blade into your skin.

S. The blood oozing from his handiwork dripped down your pussy, mixing with your juices, which had multiplied.

Tears streamed down your face as you sobbed, jaw aching from clenching it so hard. You flinched as you felt a slender finger swipe up your core, through the mix of your blood and arousal. Even in your state, your eyes widened as the High Lord brought the finger up to his mouth and sucked, licking it clean.

“Delicious.” He purred before wiping your tears away, smudging some excess blood across your cheek. “Almost as delightful as watching tears run down that pretty face of yours. Have you learned your lesson, my little slut?”

You nodded, core aching – it was almost shameful how aroused you were from your lover carving his name above your pussy. Eris was talented with a blade, knowing just how deep to carve enough to make it scar forever, a permanent reminder that you were his.

“Good girl,” Eris murmured, crawling back down between your legs and biting the inside of your thigh. “Next time you think of flirting with my brother, remember that he wouldn’t even come close to making you feel the way I can.”

AZRIEL

You shuddered as Azriel’s scarred hand wrapped around the hilt of truth-teller. His eyes were dark, shadows whirling around his large body as he strode towards you. You kept walking back until your spine hit the cold wall of your bedroom. This was not Azriel, the quiet yet kind soul who you had first met. No, this was the shadowsinger of the Night Court, stalking towards you like a lion cornering its prey.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You spat, clenching your legs together and cursing yourself for the heat in your core.

“Shut up.” He growled, twirling the blade once in his hands.

You and Azriel had a difficult relationship and had started off as friends. Once you started sleeping together, things got different. Azriel was possessive, snarling at any male who looked at you for more than a second. It drove you crazy, which led to lots of fighting and a, what many would consider unhealthy, on and off, love hate fuckfest. He would follow you home, then fuck you like an animal and leave. It was hot, but when he decided to be an ass last week and leave you unsatisfied as punishment for slapping him in the face you decided to get even. In one of your not so bright moments, you decided to bring home the Illyrian male whom you had spotted arguing with Azriel the other day. He must have smelled you on the male, and that’s how you ended up here.

“Get out.” You shouted, heart pounding. You were met with a scarred hand around your throat, gripping tightly.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” Azriel rasped in your ear. “Not until you’ve learned your lesson.”

Quicker than the speed of light, the blade in his hand sliced your nightgown open, exposing your bare breasts and cunt to him. The night air was freezing, sending goosebumps across your skin. He let go of your throat.

“What are you doing?” You asked, panting.

Azriel tilted his head, staring down at you with such intensity you were surprised it didn’t burn your face off. “Reminding you that you’re mine.” He said softly.

“Like hell I am,” You hissed in one last attempt to fend him off. “I can fuck whoever I want, you know. We aren’t together.”

His calm smirk sent chills through your bones. “No,” He purred, wedging your legs apart with his knee. “But you will always belong to me. No other male can touch you, or make you scream like I can. Seems like you need help remembering that.”

Before you could protest, the shadowsinger dropped to his knees. With one hand, he reached up and pinned your hips to the wall with brute strength. The other angled your leg to the side, elbow pressing it into the wall as he brought the blade up to the soft skin inside your thigh.

Panic arose in you, knowing where he was headed. “Don’t–”

Your voice was cut off with a strangled yell as Azriel pressed the sharp point of truth teller into your skin and dragged it, drawing blood. Your hand grasped his wrist, clenching so hard you thought it would shatter. Biting your lip, you muffled your whimpers of pain and squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. It was hard, the cold blade stinging your skin so painfully you knew it was meant to scar. You sobbed, free hand going to clutch his hair on instinct as a wave of arousal spread through your core.

Azriel chuckled darkly as he continued his work, the smell of your blood mixing with arousal and filling the room. When he was done, you panted, looking down to see a name carved in perfect letters along the inside of your thigh.

Azriel.

“You piece of shit--” Again, you were cut off by the shadowsinger, who flipped the blade around and shoved the hilt inside of you. There was no holding back your scream this time as the sting of your thigh and the painful need in your cunt sent you into a frenzy.

“You. Are. Mine.” Azriel growled each word as he fucked the hilt of Truth-Teller in and out of your dripping cunt. Deep down, you knew he was right.

ROWAN

The loud echo of your moan filled the room as Rowan pounded into you relentlessly from behind. His hands gripped your hips so hard you knew there’d be bruises tomorrow. Your entire body trembled, already having received three orgasms in the past thirty minutes. Rowan knew your body better than his own, and was angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Harder.” You moaned into the pillow.

Rowan snorted, still thrusting into you. “I’ll break you, princess.”

In your haze of pleasure, you scoffed. “No I won’t,” You panted between gasps. “I can tell you’re holding back. But I suppose I can always go for a ride with Fenrys if you’re not willing—”

That did it. Your sentence was cut off by Rowan’s territorial growl as he slammed into you so hard you felt it in your cervix. You tried to curse, but all words left your brain as the bed shook with the force of Rowan’s thrusts. One hand released your hip and lodged itself around the back of your neck, gripping tightly.

“You are mine only,” He growled. “Now shut up and take it.”

It wasn’t long before you came so hard you nearly blacked out, Rowan following shortly after with a roar. You were panting, body trembling as you collapsed into the bed with Rowan laying next to you moments later.

“That was more like it.” You sighed in bliss, legs still twitching.

Rowan laughed, brushing his fingers along the bruises that were already forming on your hips. “You look so pretty, all marked up by me.” Arrogance laced his voice as he traced the outlines.

“Too bad they’ll fade soon.” You huffed in disappointment – there was nothing you liked more than bearing the marks of Rowan all over your body like the finest jewelry.

You felt his movements freeze, and the space beside you was empty in an instant as Rowan got up.

“What are you doing?” You asked in confusion.

He returned moments later, blade in hand and already unsheathed. “Making it permanent.” He growled before pausing and looking at you. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” You said instantly, body heating up already at the dark gleam in his forest-green eyes.

A large hand gripped your upper thigh while the other brought the blade to your hip. With expert precision, the male growled with pleasure as he pressed the silver knife into your skin and carved.

You gasped at the painful sensation, the world around you spinning as Rowan held you in place and you felt him carve an ‘R’, followed by an ‘O’....

“Oh gods.” You whimpered, unable to focus properly as you realized what was happening. The mix of plain and pleasure was overwhelming, and your core ached with need as you watched Rowan carve his name into your hip. His sharp face was focused, white hair gleaming in the candlelight, the tattoos on his face making him look like a dark god claiming a mortal soul.

“Attagirl,” Rowan murmured as he carved an ‘A’. “Almost done, princess. You’re doing so good.”

Moments later, the blade lifted from your skin. Before you could say anything, a moan escaped your lips as Rowan bent his head down and licked up the blood. From the groan he released, you knew he enjoyed your taste in more ways than one.

Chin dripping with scarlet, the male looked up at you with dark eyes. “How’s that for permanent?”

TAMLIN

The High Lord of the Spring Court growled as his large hand came down on your ass once again. You yelped into the bedsheet, counting the tenth strike out loud. You were bent over Tamlin’s knees, your backside scarlet with large handprints scattered all across it.

A soothing rub came over the sore spot. “That’s my girl.” Tamlin said in that deep, velvety voice you loved so much.

You felt yourself being lifted upright. Tamlin turned you around, sitting you in his lap as if you weighed nothing to him. His blonde hair was messy, falling artfully across his handsome face as he smirked at you. Leaning forward, you kissed him, digging your nails into his neck hard.

Tamlin groaned, the sound sending heat straight between your legs. You did it again, this time dragging your nails ever so slightly against his skin.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, my love.” The High Lord growled at you, squeezing your thigh tightly.

You learned forward and bit the tip of Tamlin’s ear, causing him to shudder. “Scared you’ll lose?” You murmured, grinding into his hard length.

“You know I won’t.”

“Oh, but I think you will.” You accentuated your words by biting his neck so hard you drew blood. Tamlin groaned, his length growing even more between your legs and your chest swelled with pride at your ability to unravel the High Lord.

That pride, however, was short-lived. Tamlin grabbed you and tossed you back onto your front, then reached for his knife on the nightstand.

“You’re going to take it like a good girl,” He growled, straddling the back of your thighs and caressing your ass. “And you’re going to fucking like it, and not challenge me like this again.”

Before you could think of a smartass reply, you felt the tip of the blade dig into your soft flesh. You cried out, clenching the sheets as Tamlin began carving into your ass. Blood dripped onto the soft white sheets, but the High Lord did not seem to care. His only focus was on dragging the blade to form the letter ‘T’, and then an ‘A’....

You sobbed into the pillow, ass stinging in a way that paled in comparison to earlier. It burned like the hottest fire and the coldest ice, but you couldn’t deny the thrill it sent through your body at your normally firm yet gentle High Lord carving his name into your ass and marking you as his property.

It seemed like seconds yet years at the same time before Tamlin set down the blade, using the nearby cloth to wipe the blood away. He admired the sight of his name permanently engraved on your body and learned down, kissing the base of your spine.

“I win.” He murmured.

hope you enjoyed hehe

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yourejinx · 4 months

Text

Undeniable Bonds

Azriel x F. Reader

Warnings: angst, as per usual. SPOILERS for other SJM series. Mentions of blood, descriptions of injuries, mentions of death, feelings. Not proof read.

Author’s note: Merry Christmas everyone! It took me MONTHS but is finally here, hope you like it. Sorry for making you wait for so long, life has been nothing short of chaotic. I'd like to thank @crazylokonugget , I read your comment. It was the rush of inspiration I needed to get back into writing 🫶🏻

CHAPTER SIX

The moon was shining big and bright above the night sky in the city, there was music being played by the river despite the chilling winds of the winter and laughter filled the air around The Rainbow. It all seemed so livid, so peaceful and merry in contrast with the emotional turmoil brewing in your insides.

You were feeling everything at once, every single thing you had tried to keep concealed for centuries now was ready to combust. You felt confused, and angry, resentful, wary…and underneath it all naively hopeful. It would be a lie to say you had successfully gotten rid of your feelings towards Azriel, if anything all the awful things you've done to each other hurted all the more because of that. He was a friend once, and a good one. Gentle, caring, protective, used to actually enjoy the other's presence, go on walks during the nights when the world felt too heavy, just silently supporting each other. Shared laughs at stupid jokes played at Cass and Rhys, sneaking around while in other courts just for the fun of it, knowing no one would ever find you. You were a team. Until one day you weren’t, he just decided it wasn’t worthy and that was it.

How were you supposed to open up to this person, when he hadn’t even seen the worst in you and deemed you unworthy? How could you ever trust him again? Yet, here you were, walking side by side next to the Sidra like the old times. You could punch yourself in the face just for considering this, every anxious trait screamed at you to leave, you didn’t owe him a single thing, didn’t have to explain anything. So why did you keep walking alongside him?

“So…uhm,” He started, nervously scratching at his nape. Trying. He was trying to be open, didn’t hold up that mask of coldness to conceal his emotions, not once. “You and Lucien..?”

“None of your business.” you snapped out of instinct.

He avoided looking directly at you, focusing on some distant light across the bridge.

You let out a deep breath, this wasn’t going to work.

“Just talk to him.” Amren’s voice rang in your head. Try. You had to try, you didn’t have to let him know much just…let the conversation flow, right?

“It was a long time ago, even before Amarantha..” you started, casting a sidelong glance at him.

He turned to you, features soft under the moonlight. Gods, he was unfairly beautiful when he wasn’t an ass. You fixed your sight on the river, if only to keep on track. “Nothing really happened, we were young and drunk at one of Tamlin’s masquerades, we made out and that was it.”

He nodded slowly and cleared his throat, “And now?”

“Is this what you really want to talk about? He’s my friend, not that I owe you any explanation. Or is this your way to ask if Elain is available now?”

You couldn’t help it, the audacity of this male prying into your private life as if he hadn’t been lusting after Lucien’s mate of all people. Hypocrite doesn’t begin to cut it.

“I don’t care about Elain, I care about you.”

You wanted to laugh. “Since when? If I recall correctly you despised me until a week ago, you were either insulting me or just blatantly ignoring me in favor of her, or anyone else really. Then all goes to hell and suddenly I’m worth living for?!”

He grimaced, “You– you remember that?”

You sighed tiredly and sat down on a bench overlooking the Sidra. “Yes, I remember. I just…I don’t understand you.”

Azriel just stood there beside you, shifting his weight uncomfortably, not being quite sure what to do. When he didn’t move or say anything you continued, “I want to believe you,” you swallowed around a lump “but do you hear how it sounds? After all we’ve been through. I trusted you and you threw that in my face, how do you expect me to believe that you care about me?”

This wasn’t going as he was hoping for, but at least it was something. You were speaking to him more than two sentences, which was a lot more than he deserved to be honest. You could yell at him, curse him, punch him in the face if you wished and he would take it. No complaints. Anything if it meant you’d show him how you truly felt, he wasn’t sure he could endure your silence again, knowing how much he had hurt you. He needed you to let it all out, so he could do something to fix it.

“I don’t expect you to believe me right away, of course not. I know that I have to earn your forgiveness and one day if I’m one lucky bastard I might earn your trust back once more. But I also know that even when I try to make things right you may not forgive me at all, and I’ll accept that too. Honestly? I just want to know how you feel with all that has happened. The only thing that matters now is you.”

You let out a shaky breath, turning away from him. “I don't know what I'm supposed to feel, everything is a mess.”

He moved then, crouching in front of you and grasping both your hands on his own, making you look at him. The earnest way he was looking at you, the desperate feeling swimming in his eyes that traveled all the way through the bond. It made you gasp, with all that’s been going on you forgot to put a shield up. Now you could feel him, all of him, which meant he could feel you.

“I have no damn right to demand such mercy from you, but if for a single moment you find in your heart a spec of doubt, a small sign of will to forgive this coward for wronging you so unfairly, I just want you to know how sorry I am, for everything. I regret it all, I wish I could take it all back. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, until the day I part from this earth I will fight for you.”

You were quite sure your bottom lip was trembling as much as his hands were, trying miserably to contain the unwelcomed tears pooling in your eyes. Those were such nice words, the silly part of you that always longed for his recognition wanted so desperately to believe, but there were still too many unresolved things, too many questions still running frantically through your head. And one recurrent thought…

“Did I really have to die for you to notice?” Your words hung heavy in the air, with a mix of accusation and vulnerability.

Azriel, gaze intense and haunted, looked as if you had just punched a hole through his chest. In that moment, the shadows that bound him seemed to soften, and he confessed the truth that had long eluded you both. It wasn't the brush with death that made him take notice; it was the fear of losing you that shattered the carefully constructed barriers around his heart.

"No, it's not about noticing, it's about realizing what it means to lose you," he admitted, his voice a low, gravelly murmur. Azriel's jaw tightened, a small sign that betrayed the internal struggle within him. "It's not so simple. The thought of a world without your laughter, your presence....Losing you was the worst of my nightmares coming true. I've always cared, but I let my past dictate my actions, and I was cruel to you because I couldn't bear the thought of history repeating itself. But I was wrong, and I almost lost you because of it."

“What do you mean?”

You had unconsciously leaned in closer to him and he swallowed audibly at the intensity in your eyes —obsidian black that sometimes showed swirls of violet and blue. Like lightning striking the midnight sky. They were a rare sight, a beautiful one, he knew that only happened when you felt too much. The telltale sign of the emotions you were so desperately trying to hold back from reaching him.

“I will tell you everything you want to know, in time. I will lay my heart down for you to step on if you wish. But I believe that is a conversation on its own, I wish to explain everything to you and I don’t think I can do it tonight.” He looked almost pleading. “There’s nothing that can excuse the way I treated you, I’ve been a coward, and an asshole and you have every damn right to be angry with me, to hate me. That much I understand. I just hope you’d be willing to listen when the time’s right.”

You supposed it was fair. It still made you uneasy and you pulled back a little, ignoring the hurt that flashed through his eyes. Given how strained your relationship was, you guessed it was normal he was still doubtful about sharing too much too soon. You weren’t that willing to particularly share much of yourself yet, if ever.

Gods, you wished you could rage about everything that has happened, and hated the way his words had soothe an ache in your heart you were making an effort not to acknowledge.

Time. It would take time to heal, and trust, and effort on both sides to make this work. Whatever this white flag he had weaved tonight meant. You knew it was the right call to make, for the sake of everyone, to try and make amends. That didn’t mean it was going to be easy, some things were too deeply engraved in your heart to let go.

Did it make you a weak, spineless female to want to give in to him? What was the cost of it?

“Alright,” you muttered, standing to your feet, Azriel followed you. “If I agree to do this, I’ll need you to be patient. I’m not ready yet to let you in, I still have my doubts about this. I think you understand why. But I want to try to be friends again, that’s as much as I can offer you right now.”

Friends. That was a lot more than he had dared to ask for, even if in his heart he desired more. It wasn’t about him, nor his desires, it was about you and giving you what you need. So if what you needed from him was friendship, he’ll take it. Make the most of it.

Azriel nodded, something sparkling to life in his eyes that wasn’t there before. The bond thrummed quietly with emotion. Hope.

“One step at a time?” you offered, extending your hand to him.

“One step at a time.” He repeated, taking your hand.

It was awkward but welcomed, the feeling of something settling within your chest. The mating bond had been neglected for so long that the weight of it felt weird now, as if a missing limb had been spoken into existence. Azriel seemed to notice too, absentmindedly reaching his hand up to rub at his chest.

You tried not to shudder when he gently tugged at it and opened your mouth to suggest keeping the ends closed for the time being. Unless until you were more comfortable with each other. It was way too intimate and overwhelming otherwise, and that you were not ready for yet.

“Maybe we should–” you stopped as you felt something warm and thick dripping to your lips. Pressing two fingers to the spot and watching them stained red. Blood.

Azriel quickly caught up to the movement, body stilling in alert.

“What's wrong?” he asked, stepping closer.

“I don't know,” A strong pang shot too fast to your head making you gasp and causing you to fall forwards. Azriel’s arms instantly wrapped around your shoulders, holding you to him. His shadows were in a frenzy, surrounding you both while he inspected your face for any signs of injury.

“Y/N? Talk to me, where does it hurt?” He sounded agitated.

You could hear Azriel’s voice being muffled and muffled by the second, could feel his warmth and the firm press of his body against yours, but everything was quickly becoming a blurry image. Like some distant dream everything started to fade from sight, the whole scenery changing, twisting and re-adapting.

Velaris had been replaced for a cold, dark room, the air thick and musty. The sound of crashing waves filling the otherwise silent space. Rusty chains hung wicked and ancient from the stone walls, an iron coffin sitting vacant across from you, open and expectantly waiting for its occupier. You couldn’t move a single muscle, only stare through eyes that were not yours, scent with a foreign nose, the smell of fear, and blood, and immense sadness.

You blinked twice — or rather this…person whose mind seemed blending with yours did— and gazed down to gauntlet-covered hands. Iron, yet again. There was a slight tremble to this other body, a female’s body, from pain so deep from within her guts and the fire blazing underneath, it rose and rose and rose, flaring until it was pushed down and forced to remain still.

She looked up again, to the lone white wolf lying a few feet away, already watching her. The animal tilted his head to the side as if in contemplation and blinked three times.

“Are you okay?”

—----------------------------------------------

Sound was the first thing to return to you, hurried, hissing voices coming from somewhere around you.

“I swear on the Cauldron I'll have their heads on spikes as ornamentations for your throne.” A low, deep growl laced with intent. You recognized Azriel’s baritone voice from beside you.

Violet and blue-ish gray greeted you when you finally opened your eyes, immediately recognizing the Town’s House living room.

What in hell had that been? It occurred to you that you had dreamed about her before, the female, recognized the same lemon verbena and crackling embers scent from previous dreams, although never catching a full look at her. Who was she? Was she in danger? Was this a warning?

Frowning you propped up to your elbows to sit, back resting against the couch’s armrest. Feyre gave you a soft smile, sitting down next to your legs.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, worry staining her features.

“I'm fine, just a little dizzy.” You craned your neck back to look at the male standing behind the couch, one of his shadows slipping away to caress your cheek before returning to his master. “What happened?”

Azriel's honey gaze settled upon you, shoulders sagging a bit from relief at the sight of you awake. “You were unconscious for a few minutes, I flew us back here and called Rhys. I didn't know what to do. Are you sure you're ok?”

“Yeah, I'm alright. Thank you.” You tried to smile softly but barely managed to slightly lift the corners of your mouth. He nodded, unconvinced. After a moment to cringe, you added, “Whose head are we having on spikes?”

Silence.

Rhys cleared his throat. “Your brother’s and Damien’s.” Suddenly the room’s temperature dropped. Feyre shifted uncomfortably in her place. We hadn’t openly discussed the situation yet. “If this is a side effect of whatever they did to you, we need to find the–”

“It 's not.” you interrupted him.

It wasn't like you didn't want to find them and finish what had started two centuries ago. But it was your fight, you didn't wish to trouble your family with it. Didn't want Rhys particularly involved out of anyone, he was the reason they came back. Albeit unbeknownst to him. They still lusted after his crown, his throne, they wanted vengeance. Your blood as well as his.

Azriel stared at you, contemplative. You could sense he wanted to ask more but was debating whether it was pushing a boundary or not. It was all new to the two of you, too fresh to know what was appropriate.

Fidgeting with your entwined fingers on your lap, you decided to offer some truth. Even if they didn't believe you, even if it sounded crazy.

“This has happened to me my whole life. It doesn't always knock me unconscious, most of the time it's just dreams.”

Rhys frowned but it was Azriel who asked, “What sort of dreams are those?”

“I can't fully explain because most of the time I don't understand them. But it is almost like my mind goes somewhere else, like I share one consciousness with another. A female. Though I haven’t figured that out until tonight. I've seen scraps of her mind, and the places She's been, but I don't know her face.”

You could practically see the engines in Feyre’s mind working. She had stayed silent for most of the interaction, paying careful attention to each word.

“And what happened in this…dream? What did you see?” asked Rhys this time.

“Not much, she seemed to be in some sort of mausoleum? It was barely lit, few candles here and there. It had to be some isolated place next to the sea, I could hear waves crashing against rock. The air was thick and musty. There was a wolf with her.”

“Do you think it is possible you're dreaming about someone in the Summer Court?” Azriel caught your attention once more.

“I don't know, could be. But it feels off. There were chains on the walls…and an iron coffin. But she was alive, I think. Maybe she’s a prisoner?” You turned to Feyre then. “You’ve been there when stealing the Book of Breathings, does this sound familiar? Some place you may have seen?”

She shook her head. “No it doesn't. That doesn't mean it does not exist, I didn't get to see much of the Summer Court. But why would Tarquin keep an iron coffin?”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I don't know, it doesn't make sense. Why would I be dreaming of a female in the Summer Court? How do I relate to that?”

“What if they're not dreams, per say, but visions? Like Elain's…” she pursed her lips, deep in thought.

Azriel tensed beside me, I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. I hadn't seen Elain around that much after Solstice night, coming to think of it. Does he think it's my fault?

“Hadn't thought of it that way. Honestly, I read too much, since I was a kid. I was convinced my mind made it all up until it started to happen during day time. But either way, I don't think this is the case. I mean, nothing that I dreamt of has happened, and if it did, it didn't involve any of us. So we have no way of knowing about it.”

“It still bugs me. There has to be some explanation to it. It clearly affects you, I don't believe it's normal that these dreams cause you nosebleeds and make you pass out. What if it gets worse?” Rhys pointed out.

“Beats me. I know as much as you do.”

“We’ll have to look into it. Whatever this is, and whoever that person may be. Is there something else you remember?” Azriel's brows were pulled together tightly, but his eyes were gentle when he settled them upon me.

“I just…one time I recall feeling her, here in Velaris. I — she— saw you two.” You pointed to your high lord and lady. Rhys stilled. “But it was like she was falling from the sky, or rather falling through. You were pregnant with little Nyx.” You told Feyre and turned your head to look at Azriel. “I don't remember much about it. I must have passed out, you found me in the hallway shortly after.”

Azriel gave a tense nod. “I remember you lying face down on the top of the stairs, your books thrown all over the place. Your nose wasn't bleeding though, I thought you were drunk.” he said apologetically.

I shrugged. “You didn't know, and I couldn't explain either.”

“If this is a person that's been here without us knowing, then we must start to investigate immediately.” Rhys cut in.

“But where do we start?” I asked.

“I'll see if the wards of Velaris had been tampered with, for starters. Maybe we can find some imprint of magic. In the meantime I’d say you learn about bonds and connections, how they work, check your mental shields. If you have access to her mind then there's a possibility she has access to yours, there has to be a link somewhere.”

“Alright, I'll start to look into it right away. There has to be something in the library about mental connections.”

“You should rest now.” Azriel placed a hand on my shoulder. “I'll help with the research tomorrow. We can go to the library after training the Valkyries. If that's okay with you.”

You nodded and relaxed a little. Ignoring the warmth that his touch had spread across your back.

“Yeah, it's fine. Tomorrow then.”

—---------------------------------------------------

taglist:

@cmay25 @brekkershadowsinger @cosmic-whispers @h0peless-r0m4ntic @esposadomd @hannzoaks @tysynn @i-am-infinite @sevendeadlyshins-blog @angelshadowsinger @buckysimp101 @baebeepeach @elsie-bells @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @leeknows-wife @k07-1313 @valeridarkness @fall-myriad @goradgirl @feiwelinchen @katherine-2007 @colorfulwinnerneva-blog @lillithathecat @j-pendragonx @ummmmmwat @eviepeo @thelov3lybookworm @emturtle @chillicrackers @bubybubsters @perseflowers @goldenmagnolias @littleshopofwhore-blog @galla-lotus @weirdo-fun @moonlwghts @t0uch-starved-h0e @wannabewolf @awkwardturtle36 @notbellasstuff @nastynesta

@nohxmanity @yasminsznn @thesnuggliestduckling @anniebannanie07-blog @elsie-bells @highlady-ofillyria @kodokunarisu-blog @starksweasleymain @tcris2020 @obixix @naturakaashi @fanboyluvr @nightless @moonshine147 @marina468 @microwaveallthedemons @artof-aristocracy @harrystylesfan2686 @yasminsznn

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #azriel fanfic #acotar series #azriel #acomaf #acowar #undeniable bonds

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lovemyromance · 1 month

Text

Crazy how people are saying it's pretty obvious Gwynriel is endgame when they saw the word "spark" in the Azriel bonus chapter.

When in that same bonus chapter, we have Azriel wanting to beg on his knees for a taste of Elain.

They say it's just lust - but when has SJM ever written a pairing where in the males POV, he is fantasizing over a woman and those thoughts end up being only pure lust?

Also not to mention, the spark thing has already been debunked several times, just in ACOTAR. Something sparked in Feyre's chest when Tamlin smiled too.

Clearly - they aren't mates.

"Sparked" is just common language SJM uses. She uses it with Aelin & Lorcan as well - also not mates.

There's a counter example to the entirety of the Gwynriel ship JUST. IN. ACOTAR.

Come on folks. It's not that hard.

#elriel #acotar #azriel #elain archeron #pro elain #elain x azriel #elain #antigwynriel

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moonlightazriel · 6 months

Text

Son of the Darkness XVI /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: SMUT and talkings about war.

Word Count: 2,7K

Notes: After so long, SOD is finally back, it feels so good to be writing this again.

Son of the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“I must say that I love a good-looking fierce female.” Helion leaned closer to Y/N and she giggled trying to politely shove him away, Azriel raised an eyebrow at that, his wings flaring and he puffed his chest, appearing bigger and scarier as Helion hit on his mate.

They had retrieved to a banquet room, food was being served and wine was being passed around. Y/N was seated right beside Helion and Azriel was across from them, the High Lords and their courts having nice conversations with each other, the atmosphere was amicable, it almost felt like the meeting hadn't occurred.

“What are our numbers?” Tamlin asked, trying to make small talk, everyone turned his way, harsh gazes directed at him, he tried to ignore how this made him feel, by sipping on his goblet.

“Let’s enjoy this feast, we never got to be together like that.” Thesan redirected the conversation to something else, everyone was hiding their numbers, Tamlin could not be trusted, it was a smart move.

Soon, everyone was walking around, talking with friends they hadn’t seen in a really long time. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow among the stones that composed the room and the people.

“This place is beautiful.” Y/N whispered, appearing behind Azriel, her voice sounded tired. He turned to her, pulling her closer by the waist.

“Did you like it? I can build one for you.” She looked at him, blushing a bit under his intense gaze, the sun reflected in his eyes, making them look like melted gold.

“No need, I’m perfectly fine with Tornan.” She replied, feeling the light flutter of a thousand butterflies in her stomach as he looked at her.

Azriel wanted to kiss her, but instead, he pulled her towards the musicians, moving her in an animated dance. Neither of them were that good, bumping into each other but the smile on her face made it all worth it.

His family watched, Azriel seemed lighter, happier. He deserved all the happiness he could find, and he sure did in the arms of the female who looked at him like he was her whole world. They could smell their bond, so strong, even if it hadn’t snapped yet for her. A match like no other.

“You’re all welcome to stay here for the night, but you can leave.” Thesan announced. Rhysand’s voice quickly echoed through their minds, telling them he would like to stay.

Each high lord had the same idea, deciding to stay. Thesan escorted Tamlin out and the Night court walked to their designated chamber. Helion follows them closely.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“The Illyrian legions are ready for war, every single camp was prepared. The dark bringers are joining too.” Rhys stated, spinning the wine in his glass. Helion nodded.

“My armies are all ready as well. Everyone I could gather.” He looked at Azriel, he was standing in the corner, hugging Y/N from behind, with his arm around her neck. Helion eyed the both of them with lust, the clear smell of arousal made Cassian snort a laughter. “You know you’re always invited to join, Lord of Bloodshed.” He whispered, winking at Cassian.

“Her legions are ready.” He said he was the High Lord, but the person who spent her whole life getting ready and taking care of his “army” was her, it was only fair to address things properly.

“55.000 soldiers ready to be transported by the Sephiran coven.” She added that pride emanated from the dark bridge between them, so much pride that leaked through half their bond.

“We’re marching to war as well.” Evanore, who had watched all evening in her own world, spoke. “For healing and for protecting, if we can gather the armies together, we can bless the weapons.”

“Cassian and I are going to the Illyrian camps first thing tomorrow morning.” Rhys turned to her. “Maybe you can start there? I can try to help.” Eva nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.” She happily replied.

“Then we need to go back home, it’s time for the Nightfall.” The night court members nodded.

Talking took a little while longer, with Feyre pulling Y/N aside. As soon as they were on the balcony, Feyre smiled at her.

“I need your help.” She started, not sure how to tell her exactly what the plan was.

“Whatever you need.” Feyre nodded.

“I want Bryaxis by our side.” Y/N’s eyes widened.

“The Soul Seeker?” The female smirked. “That will be interesting. We will do that tomorrow.” Feyre nodded, shared a quick handshake and they went back inside.

“Do you want to go to sleep, my love?” Azriel asked as she approached, a cute yawn coming out of her mouth as she agreed, they said their goodbyes and marched to the chamber designated to them.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“What is up with Helion? He looked like he wanted to fuck you.” She asked, removing her jewelry and makeup in front of the mirror.

“It’s his dream to get me and Cassian in his bed.” He approached her from behind, hands pressing the knots in her shoulders. “And now apparently you.” She could hear the jealousy in his voice.

“Jealous, my High Lord?” Her voice was low and sensual, her pink tongue wetting her lips as she looked at him through the mirror.

“Maybe.” It was all that he said, his hand wrapped around her throat and he forced her up, kicking the chair to the side. “It’s just that…” His lips started to kiss the skin of her neck, and she let her head fall onto his shoulder, pressing her lips together so she wouldn’t moan. “The thought of you with another male, it’s enough to drive me insane.”

His hand kept pressing her throat, while his other traveled down her body, fingers ghosting over her nipple, which hardened under his touch, the lacy nightgown was also enough to drive him mad. His cock throbbed in his pants, and he pressed it against her ass.

“Eager, I see?” She teased, Azriel smirked against the skin of her shoulder, only to dip his hand inside her underwear, touching her bare dripping cunt. She shivered, pressing her legs together, arching her back and her ass as she tried to control her breath. Azriel rubbed circles in her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body. He wanted to taste her so badly.

He turned her around, almost coming with her expression, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, and flushed cheeks, he felt proud of being the one making her feel like that. His hands helped her sit on the desk, the contact of her hot skin against the cold surface made her whimper, the sound going straight to Azriel’s cock.

He pulled down her underwear, locking his gaze on her, her expression filled with lust as she watched him kneel in front of her, part her legs open, and dip his head between her legs, tongue licking a stripe along her core, focusing on the apex of her tights while two of his fingers pumped in and out of her. One of her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer to her, while the other held firmly on the desk.

She whimpered and squirmed, feeling her peak approach her fast as Azriel’s skilled tongue drove her closer to the edge, he flickered his tongue in circles, making her moan loudly.

“Oh Mother, I’m going to cum.” She blurted it out, how long since someone properly ate her out? She couldn’t even remember, and she didn’t want to, he was the only one who would ever do that again, and he did it so well.

“Come in my tongue, love.” He said, going back to his ministrations, moving his fingers and tongue in synchrony, at an impossibly fast pace. Y/N was violently thrown over the edge. Coming so hard that she felt consciousness slip away from her grasp. Azriel noticed, getting up and pulling her in his arms. Gently carrying her to bed.

He pulled her under the covers, circling the bed and going to the other side, pulling her to his chest again, she softly snored and he tried to calm his hormones, going to sleep with the taste of her still in his tongue.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We have to go home soon.” Azriel said, rubbing soap on her back as they shared the shower in the morning. She turned to him, gently applying shampoo on his dark locks, fingers rubbing his scalp and Azriel let out a low groan in pleasure, he loved to have her whining and panting underneath him, but this non-sexual pleasure? Just having her in this intimate way? It was enough to have him giggling and kicking his feet like a little girl.

“Are you going with Rhys?” He nodded. “I’ll ask someone to take me there, I need to do something with Feyre first.” He hummed in agreement.

“Maybe Mor can take you.” Y/N whispered a “sure” and they finished their shower. Getting dressed and eating the meal that was sent to their chamber.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Thank you again for coming with me.” Y/N shook her head, they were all back to the night court, and now she and Feyre were marching down to the bottom of the library.

“I like him.” It was all that the brunette said. Her scalp tingled as she felt the temperature drop, Feyre squeezed her hand harshly. “Hey, Soul Seeker.”

“I haven’t heard this name in a long time.” The shadows moved with curiosity. “You’re not from here.” He deduced. “You belong home.”

“Took a while for you to notice.” She joked and Feyre tried to look at her, feeling the fear sneaking up her spine, she was rigid, afraid to make the wrong move. The shadows moved and the beast chuckled.

“They fear me here.” Bryaxis stated.

“Good for you, that our High Lady here has a deal for you.” She nudged Feyre, the female cleared her throat.

“If you help us in the war, I can get you home.” The beast got agitated with interest.

“All I have to do is help?” Feyre hummed in agreement. “And how do I get back to the Court of Shadows?” He inquired.

“The Sephiran.” Y/N replied.

“Ahhh, the witches. My dearest friends.” The shadows moved and it felt like he was happy.

“But…” they abruptly stopped. “You will have to follow our rules, and fight for us until we don’t need you anymore, and only then will we bring you home.” The creature watched Y/N, then Feyre, who stood with more confidence.

“We have a deal then.” The creature said, and both females could feel the burning in their arms, as they reached the light, a drawing of the night sky, the court of the Shadows night sky, marked their skin.

“I’ll ask Amren to help with the restraining spell. Mor will take you to the camps.” Feyre stated as they reached the house of wind. “Thank you for helping me.”

“I’m always here to aid a friend.” She winked, squeezing Feyre’s hand, the female smiled, going after Amren.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“I hate this place.” Mor stated as she felt the male’s eyes lingered a bit too long on parts they shouldn’t.

“Males are awful everywhere, I see.” She pointed out, gaining a few more angry gazes as they walked through Windhaven, reaching Devlon’s tent.

Rhysand sat on the desk, while Cassian discussed strategies with Devlon, who had a very sour expression on his face.

“Where’s Eva and Azriel?” Y/N asked, earning the attention of the three males.

“She’s protecting the weapons and he’s with her, for safety.” Rhys gestured for the two to approach. Y/N looked at the Prythian map.

“We should face them in an open field.” Devlon insisted.

“Or we could force them near the sea, here.” Cassian pointed.

“Some of the summer court members have water abilities, and so do the witches.” The leader of Windhaven shivered at the words. “That beautiful creature out there? One of the most powerful witches ever born.” She proudly spoke of her best friend.

“Fucking hell.” That was all that he replied. Looking back at the map.

“Here, we have this mountain and water. This guarantees they can’t attack us from behind. Natural protection.” She crossed her arms. Cassian smiled at her.

“That’s actually perfect, but how do we get this many people there?”

“Teleporting!” Evanore said, entering the tent, sweat coated her forehead even in the cold winds of the mountain. “Me and my sisters can teleport all of them, it’s no big deal.” She smiled.

“Then it’s done.” Cassian circulated the area on the map with a coal pencil. “This is where it all ends.”

At this same time, Feyre and her sisters entered the tent, Nesta looking around and giving a small smile to Eva and Y/N, while Elain just nodded to everyone, her eyes lingering a little while longer on Azriel, Y/N rolled her eyes at that, deciding to ignore it.

Then, they all felt the shaking of the ground and the air being knocked out of their lungs, like a huge wave of raw magic sweeping over the camp, the terrified looks in their eyes.

“The wall is gone.” Nesta stated. She had felt it more deeply as they used the cauldron.

“We need to be fast.” Y/N grabbed Evanore’s hand and they both disappeared through the folds of time. Going home.

They were met with the witches already waiting at the war camp. “I called them.” Eva explained.

“ATTENTION.” Y/N yelled, the soldiers falling silent as they reunited in front of their general. “It’s time.” Her voice echoed through the camp, thanks to one of the Sephiran spells. “The war is here and we need to prepare, he trained our whole lives for this. This is the moment.” The soldiers nodded in silence. “Gather your supplies, take your armor. We’re leaving in the morning.” She dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

The chaos started as soon as they departed, the clinking of metal from the armory being carried around, swords being cleaned and packed. The kitchen packing food to feed an army twice as big. The healers rushed around getting their wagons ready.

“Someone needs to go back to Prythian and keep blessing their weapons.” Eva told Rune, who just nodded, that she might be the leader and know everything that was happening, but Evanore was the future of the Coven, she wanted to see if her sister had what it took to keep their legacy once Rune couldn’t.

“I’ll send Thalia and Kharis to bless their weapons. Ellora, Alais, Ryo, and I are going to transport them. You should rest, sister.” Rune advised.

“Rune is right.” Y/N squeezed Evanore’s shoulder. “You can rest in my tent.” The blond looked at her.

“What about you?” Her blue eyes were filled with concern.

“I have too much to do.” She ushered Evanore to her tent, turning to Rune. “We need to take them to the Illyrian war camps.” She felt all the weight on her shoulders, Ryo wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so sorry to ask that from you.”

“It’s our land too, we will fight for what’s right.” Ellora spoke, her voice was soothing. She squeezed Y/N’s hand. “Everything is going to be fine.” But she wondered if they really would. The fear was clawing at her heart and she felt sick to her stomach.

“I’ll prepare tea for you.” Alais offered and the female nodded. She needed to calm down if she wanted to make this work.

“Thank you all, for always being kind to me. You’re all a blessing to this land.” Rune smiled at her. The witch was at least 700 years old, but as all the witches did, she looked as young as ever with the red hair and the freckles adorning her face.

“It’s our pleasure to fight by your side, general.” The witch bowed, Ryo let her go and Alais was next to her with the tea, she sipped quickly, feeling the calming properties of the plant filling her senses.

She exchanged a quick goodbye to the witches and went to the meeting room, to share her strategies with her soldiers, the sounds of the camp muffled by her powerful voice.

“I guarantee to you all, we will be the standing ones on that battlefield, we won’t lose this war.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @allison-rosewood-maximoff @devilsfoodcake22 @fieldofdaisiies @brekkershadowsinger @valeridarkness @margssstuff

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #azriel #moonlightazriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #son of the darkness #azriel smut #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel x oc

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