#tamlin fic

[starryevermore]

i will go to lunar valleys in my mind ✧ tamlin & azriel

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pairing: tamlin x archeron!fem!reader; azriel x archeron!sister

summary: to azriel, you are the most brilliant star shining in the night sky. 

word count: 7,954

warnings?: angst with a happy ending, pining, not proofread

PART ONE

Azriel stared at the cream invitation. It had landed in front of him just moments earlier, but he had already read it a few dozen times. The words were seared into his mind. You are cordially invited to the mating ceremony of High Lord Tamlin and High Lady Y/N. High Lady. You were Spring’s High Lady. There was no way, he knew, that you could, would, ever return to Velaris when you had a court to run. He had been invited to your coronation, too, months ago. But in the year since you left for Spring, he never visited. Despite Feyre and Rhys’s insistence that you missed him, and Lucien’s chastising him for never going, and even Elain’s quiet disapproval, he knew better than to make the journey. He meant what he said to Rhys all that time ago. 

If he went to Spring, he would bring you straight back home. 

Because he had built you a home. Azriel knew how you never felt truly at home in any of Rhys’s homes—not the Town House, not the House of Wind, and not the River House. The House of Wind was the most comfortable to you, because it offered the most solitary, but it was not your home. One night, you had told him of your dream home. A quaint cottage in the woods, close enough to the city to go when you pleased but far enough to still be calm. A nice personal library, a cozy kitchen. A big fireplace that you could curl up with a nice book. Azriel committed those details to memory and spent many months making your dream home come a reality. He intended for it to be a mating gift, for when the bond finally snapped for you. 

It only collected dust.

He sat there now, at the dining table he had spent weeks picking out. His shadows flitted about, hissing at him to go to Spring. To get you before you were tied to Tamlin forever. Azriel would not. He couldn’t force you to sacrifice your happiness for his sake. You had to be happy. That was why you never returned to Velaris. You were happy in perfect Spring with your perfect mate. To bring you back here would only taint you.

“You are not going,” Rhysand said. Azriel didn’t look up from the invitation to know his High Lord had winnowed into the room. Rhys had found out about the house a few weeks after you left, concerned when Azriel hadn’t reported for any missions. 

“I haven’t gone there in a year. Why would I go now?”

“I thought the same when I was going to let Feyre live her life with Tamlin. And then she called down the bond, and I was whisking her away without any thought of the consequences.” Rhysand leaned over the table, pushing down on the invitation so that Azriel would look up at him. “She is happy with him. She looks alive when she is with him.”

“And she looked dead with me?”

It was a cheap shot, and Azriel knew it. But he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that he wasn’t right for you. That the Mother had made a mistake. There were so many poorly-matched mates, and he was certain this was the case when the bond snapped for him. If you were content with Tamlin, then that meant you didn’t feel the same hole in your soul that Azriel did. 

His High Lord let out a sigh. “You know that’s not what I mean, brother. You remember how she looked when we forced them apart. She is finally happy again, and I won’t let anyone jeopardize it. Feyre won’t allow it.”

Azriel shoved Rhysand’s hand off the invitation. He stared at the date. It was six months away. A long time to be sending announcements for a mating ceremony, but it was surely to be a huge event for the High Lord and Lady of Spring. He imagined it would be the biggest event of the year. His teeth ground together. That should be you and him.

He dropped the invitation and rose from his seat. Shadows swirled around him as he stalked out of the house. Ignoring Rhysand’s calls behind him, Azriel took off into the air. He couldn’t stand this anymore.

“They didn’t come,” you whispered, head leaning against Tamlin’s chest. His arms wound around you. You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head. Your face crumpled. Letting out a shuddering breath, you said, “I shouldn’t be surprised. They haven’t come here in months, but I thought…I thought they would come.”

A finger tilted your chin up so you would look up at your mate. Tamlin’s eyes were soft. “If they’re the ones who decide to burn bridges, it is not your fault.”

“I know, but…” You sighed. You looked out the large window overlooking the gardens. Despite the blanket of night covering the grounds, you could see the beautiful, blossoming rose bush Tamlin had planted earlier that month. A tradition, he’d said. “I hoped something would have changed.”

Tamlin leaned his cheek on the top of your head. His steady breathing was the only thing keeping your from sinking to the floor. “I know it hurts, but it’s their loss. You are an amazing female, my love. I could never understand why they’d want to throw that all away, but that is their mistake to make.”

You wiggled out of his arms and stepped closer to the window. Your hand pressed against the cold glass. “I don’t understand what changed. I thought things were going well. Feyre stopped glaring at you to your face—”

“What?”

“—she still glared behind your back, but it was an improvement. Rhysand didn’t make comments wishing for your death. Even Nesta held her tongue. The only one who never came around was Azriel, which hurts because I thought him my friend. But for them to all decide I’m not worth the trouble anymore? It feels like they carved out my heart and stomped on it.”

Tamlin was silent for a long moment. You could feel his eyes looking you over, searching for any sign that you were about to waste away like Feyre had. Down the bond, you feel his love and comfort. But…there was something else there. Pain, anguish. Were you hurting Tamlin somehow? Were you making him doubt your love for him by talking about this? You looked over your shoulder at him. 

“There is still cake from the celebration. I’ll go get a couple slices from the kitchen, and some wine. Does that sound alright?”

You nodded. Tamlin smiled and left the room. You looked back out the window. Part of you was tempted to push the window open, scale down the wall, and run through the gardens until the pain of the loss of your family was only a dull ache. The other part of you just wanted to be held by your mate.

You loved Tamlin. You really, truly did. But, in recent months, you felt like there was something missing. When the high of getting to know him, accepting the bond, and becoming High Lady of Spring finally died down, you were left with a hole in your chest. Small, barely noticeable if you weren’t looking, but enough to make you question everything. 

Had you been wrong to come here? 

Something tugged in your chest. Ordinarily, you would have thought it would be Tamlin. He always was so quick to send you comfort through the bond, but this felt different. Colder, but a comforting sort of cold. The kind of cold of a fan being waved on you during a sweltering summer day. The cold of a drink after hours of laborous work. The cold of a shadow slithering around your hand, pulling you out of harm’s way. The cold of Azriel’s hands on your burning face as you sobbed at being forcibly separated from your mate.

It tugged harder. It felt closer to snapping. But to what? You had a mate. You had Tamlin. What other sort of snapping could there be? 

Your hands tugged at your hair.  You had been so sure months ago. Why were you spiraling now? What had changed? It was more than your family, your sisters, not showing up to your mating ceremony. No, this was something deeper. Something that you had been ignoring for too long. Something that was starting to boil over. Tears began to streak down your face. A scream of frustration fell out as your hand smacked against the pane. 

The temperature in the room dropped. 

“Are you hurt?”

Everything went still. Slowly, you peeled yourself off the window. No. He couldn’t be here. Not after all this time. He hadn’t deigned to see you in over a year. You had sent invitations and letters, and they had all gone unanswered. Even when you told Feyre to pass him along the message that you missed him, you never got a response. Yes, you had left without a goodbye. But did that mean you deserved to be ignored? 

Perhaps he truly only saw you as the latest object of his affections. Perhaps you never were anything close to a friend of his. 

A hand stroked your hair. You sucked in a breath. “I swear, if he’s hurt you, I will snuff out this Cauldron-forsaken court’s light before he can even blink.”

You scoffed. Slowly you turned, your eyes narrowing at him. “That’s rich. If you care so much about my well-being, where were you the last year? Did Feyre send you here to tell me that she’s throwing in the towel? That she’s decided I’m not worth the effort? That she’s forbidden everyone else from coming to Spring, too?”

Azriel blinked. “What?”

“I mean, it was rich for her to not come today. It would make sense for Rhysand not to come if she didn’t. But for everyone else to not make an appearance? Even Lucien wasn’t here, and he’s Tamlin’s best friend! No one has been here in months! I can only assume the High Lady ordered gave orders to stay away.” You shook your head. “You must only be here to finally clue me in, so I’ll stop littering their desks with silly little invitations.”

He took a step closer to you. You wished you had the space to back away. Shadows wrapped around your ankles. He reached out to hold your face, but you jerked away. It was impossible to miss the hurt in his hazel eyes. And—why did your chest ache? “I’m afraid I’m the reason no one made an appearance.”

Pain struck through you. Azriel? Did he truly think so little of you because you chose your mate? You once overheard a fight he had with Rhysand—heard him say that it was only fair that he had a sister. With Feyre, Nesta, and Elain all happily taken, that had left you. Did he convince them all to hate you because you chose Tamlin over him? 

You pushed him away. “How dare you,” you hissed. 

“It’s not what you think—”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s much worse. You couldn’t have Mor, but that was fine because at least it was because she prefers females. You couldn’t have Elain. That was fine, because there was another Archeron sister waiting in the wings, praying to be picked. But then you couldn’t have me, and you had to poison everyone against me.” You gave him your harshest glare. “Why couldn’t you have pined after someone else? I hear Gwyn is single. Why didn’t you go after her? Why did you have to stoop so fucking low?”

“I didn’t!” he shouted. His voice echoed off the walls. You were sure Tamlin could hear him, but you didn’t care. Not when it felt like your chest was caving in. 

“I thought you were my friend, Azriel. I may not have always treated you the best, and I apologize for that. But I know when I’m only being picked because I’m the last option available. I deserve better than that, and you know it. Of everyone, you should know that. What did I do to deserve such cruelty?”

“Nothing!” He ran his fingers through his hair. His shadows swirled around in a flurry. Was he about to set them out to attack you? Get rid of you as a final fuck you? “They weren’t here because I am going crazy without you!”

“Excuse me?!”

“You’re my fucking mate, Y/N!”

Any words you were ready to spit out dried out in your mouth. What? That couldn’t be possible. You had a mate already. You had Tamlin. And yet…There was still that tugging in your chest. Familiar, but not. 

“I have known since Nyx’s birth. I wanted to wait until it snapped for you, but it didn’t. It snapped for fucking Tamlin. As cruel as it is, I was grateful that Feyre and Rhys took you from him. At least it gave me a chance to make you see me. But then I came back from that mission and you were gone.” Azriel took a tentative step towards you again. You made no effort, this time, to push him away. “It fucking killed me to know you were gone. No one saw me for a month afterwards. I started to come around, eventually, but it was never the same without you there. I didn’t come here, to Spring, because if I did, I would have stolen you away again, because I cannot live without you. Then, six months ago, I received the invitation to your mating ceremony, and I lost it. Disappeared. Everyone has been on the hunt for me, to make sure I didn’t cause a war between our courts.”

You stared at him, unblinking. The ache in your chest only grew stronger. Could he be right? Could he truly be your mate? But what would that make Tamlin? Was it possible to be mistaken over who your mate was? Was it possible to have two mates? You wanted to cry—for you, and for Azriel. 

“I apologize for what my actions have done.”

“Why are you here now?” you asked. He said nothing, so you continued, “You stayed away this long. Why are you here now?”

Azriel let out a breath. “I had to see if you were happy. I…I imagine the mating ceremony has already been consummated, which would complicate things, but…If there was any chance, any at all, that I could be your knight in shining armor, I had to take it. If you were, I would leave you be. Let you live out your life as Spring’s High Lady and never again interfere. So, I have to ask, are you happy?”

That tug in your chest finally snapped. All at once, everything Azriel felt came crashing through. The full extent of his pain, the anguish raging through his body. The glimmer of hope as he stared down at you, waiting for your answer. Your hand reached out without you thinking, touching his chest. You could almost see the golden thread binding you to him. 

“Yes,” you said.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest, the gleam of his siphon bouncing off at you. “But?”

“I feel a hole in my soul.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah?”

“One, that I’m beginning to realize, is shaped like an Illyrian.”

The smile grew. He reached out, cupping your face in his large hands. Azriel’s thumbs swiped over your cheeks. You hadn’t realized you’d been crying. Leaning against his palm, a smile began to cross your face. Azriel leaned in, nose brushing against yours, until his lips connected with yours. 

A gasp escaped you at the contact. It was…electric. Unlike anything you experienced with Tamlin, save for the intensity of it all. If Tamlin was the innocent joy, Azriel was the passionate fervor. You had experienced the frenzy with Tamlin, but you were sure it would pale in comparison to Azriel. You could feel the full weight of his emotions through the bond—the lust, the adoration, the desire for more. 

A chord struck in you. If you could feel all of this with Azriel, then Tamlin could—

Tamlin’s snarl ripped through the room. 

He fought to keep a lid on his barely-constrained anger. Whenever Tamlin felt such explosive anger, he had a tendency to hurt those he cared about. You deserved better than that. And, even if your relationship with Feyre had become strained, he was sure she would make good on her threat anyways. But, Mother, how else was he supposed to react when that Cauldron damned Shadowsinger was kissing his mate?

Tamlin had suspected for a long time that Azriel harbored feelings for you. When you came to the ball, Azriel clung to you like a leech. Always hovering, always watching you. And when Azriel would leave you, those damned shadows of his would always linger. Even when Tamlin finally got a moment alone with you, the Shadowsinger burst in the room as if thought Tamlin was about to hurt you—pulled you out of his arms, tried to keep you from him. He knew there was a reason Azriel hadn’t visited once—hadn’t even sent word to you—in the last year. He just never thought the Illyrian would have the audacity to whisk you away hours after your mating ceremony. 

It must be a Night Court tradition. 

You pushed Azriel away—too gentle for Tamlin’s liking—and stepped toward him. Your eyes were wide, apologetic. You reached out for him, urged him to wrap his arms around you. He did, but not once did he look away from Azriel. He didn’t trust that the Illyrian brute wouldn’t stab him in the back at the first opportunity. Especially not with Truth-Teller strapped to his waist. 

“I can explain, Tam,” you said, cheek pressed against his chest.

Tamlin smoothed a hand over your hair. He tugged on the bond, let you know that he was not upset with you. He could never be upset with you. “You are not to blame, my love.”

“Of course I am. I wanted Az to kiss me.”

A growl rumbled deep in his chest before he could stop it. Okay, perhaps he could be upset with you a little. Though, he supposed he couldn’t fault you entirely for harboring feelings for the Shadowsinger. You had told Tamlin once that, although you were suspicious about Azriel’s motivations at times, he had been something of a friend. The only one, save for your sisters, that you could call a friend. When you’re that lonely, it’s easy to fall for the one person who’s kind to you. But that didn’t mean Tamlin had to like it. 

“He’s my mate, too, Tam.”

He pulled away. He searched your eyes for anything sign of deceit, for any sign of manipulation. Tamlin found none. He looked back at Azriel, who still stood far away, watching you carefully. It looked like he was ready to yank you away from Tamlin at the first sign of distress. Night Court folk always held grudges. 

This was…unexpected. If Tamlin didn’t trust you, he might have thought you were trying to deceive him. Triads had existed a long time ago, when Prythian was in its infancy. There was a time where there were more males than females. People believed that the Mother would allow the female multiple mates in an effort to stop the fighting over the few, precious females that existed. Of course, all of this was speculative—a work of fiction. No one had seen a triad in millennia. No one was sure they’d ever existed at all. 

Yet, when Tamlin pressed his nose to your hair, he didn’t just smell your scent mixed with his. There was something different, less familiar. It was faint. Barely noticeable unless he searched for it. A mating bond, in its infancy. As he turned his gaze to Azriel, he knew who it belonged to. 

“What do you want?” Tamlin near-growled at Azriel, still cradling you against his chest. 

“For her to be happy,” Azriel said. “I was going to let her go, never reveal the bond. I was going to let her live a life with you, but I had to make sure she was happy before I gave her up forever.”

Tamlin wanted to say that you were happy. That you had all you needed here. And, yes, you were happy. You loved the Spring Court. If Tamlin thought you beautiful at the ball, it paled in comparison to the way you seemed to come alive in Spring. But he couldn’t deny that, in recent months, as the Inner Circle stopped coming, as it became clear that Azriel would never visit, that something inside of you was dying.

And he had heard the tail end of your conversation with Azriel before he kissed you. You wanted Azriel as a mate. Tamlin knew better than to deny you of that. He never again wanted to see you as lifeless as you had been when he brought you home from the Night Court. 

“She’s High Lady,” he said, “she cannot be whisked away from here.”

“I understand,” Azriel said. “Perhaps, though, she could spend a few months with me, in the Night Court? Most of her year will be spent here, ruling by your side. I only ask for some time.”

You turned your head to look at Azriel. Your brows pinched together. “You would do that?”

“I would rather only have a part of you than none at all.”

Tamlin looked down at you. He hated the idea of you being taken away to the Night Court. It reminded him too much of how Rhysand had grabbed you and winnowed you away—of how Night’s High Lord had done the same to Feyre years prior. The nasty, jealous part of him roared at the thought of you going. But when he looked at your hope-filled eyes, he knew he wouldn’t deny you. 

To Azriel, he said, “Give us the month to get our affairs in order.”

Azriel nodded. It was done. 

“Be careful with her,” Tamlin hissed.

Azriel rolled his eyes as he picked you up. One hand cradled the back of your head, the other hooked under your legs. Your arms looped around his neck. Though winnowing you would be easier, quicker, Azriel dreamed of flying you to the home he built for you. 

“She is not a doll so easily broken.”

You scratched at the back of his neck. Azriel’s knees nearly buckled. Though you intended the action to be a means of chastising him, he only thought about how nice it would feel to have those pretty polished nails of yours rake down his back. “Play nice. Both of you,” you said. 

Tamlin stepped over to you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “If you change your mind,” he said, “let me know. I’ll bring you home.”

Azriel stepped away before you could kiss Tamlin on the mouth. It was petty of him, to be sure. But he didn’t like the implication that you would not feel at home with him. What did Tamlin know? He wasn’t there for you when you came out of the Cauldron. When you were only a shell, sat at a piano all hours of the day, the melody of your pain echoing through Velaris. Tamlin was not there to hold you as you cried, begging for the pain to end. Tamlin never begged Rhysand to go into your mind, to give you pleasant dreams, so that even if you only experienced peace in your sleep, at least you got to feel it. 

Tamlin might have taken you from the Night Court. He may have made you his High Lady. And he may love you, but he didn’t know you hurt like Azriel did. He did not make the same promise Azriel did to never let you be hurt again. He did not know that, as Azriel was returning from that mission, he was planning to ask if you wished for him to take you to Spring. He was going to give you the choice that he and the rest of the Inner Circle so terribly deprived you of. Azriel had only been angry when you were gone because he never got to tell you goodbye, never got the chance to see you one last time before sending you off for your fairytale ending. But then, after the Inner Circle’s first visit, Feyre told him you looked like an entirely different person. 

Tamlin might love you, but he wouldn’t sacrifice his happiness to let you be with another male. 

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Azriel asked you.

The week before, Tamlin had sent your clothes, some books, and sheet music ahead. Azriel took special care to set up your room. It was the master bedroom, of course. Azriel relegated himself to a smaller guest room. Even if you were going with him to see if you truly wanted the bond with him, he was not going to force you to share a room with him. 

“I’m sure,” you said. You turned to Tamlin and nodded your head at him, urging him closer. Reluctantly, Azriel did not step away this time. He could deny Tamlin all he wanted, but he wouldn’t do that to you. The High Lord leaned down and kissed you softly. “I’m write you, Tam.”

Tamlin smiled. “I eagerly await your letters.”

After bidding him another farewell kiss, you let Azriel take to the skies. Although Azriel was not fond of his Illyrian heritage—the culture and its males, save for his brothers, disgusted him—he would never tire of flying. He didn’t think it could ever get any better, but that was before he had you in arms, clinging tightly to him while he flew over all of Prythian. 

A laugh, a beautifully loud laugh, escaped you as he pushed himself faster and faster. He shot you a wicked grin and a wink before shooting straight up, turning over backwards, before righting himself on course again. The laugh turned to a scream. Your nails dug into the back of his neck. 

“What?” he teased. “Don’t like going upside down?”

“You’re rotten,” you said, but you smiled up at him anyways. He liked your smile. You smiled with your whole face. Pretty dimples, crinkled corners of your eyes. Even your eyes themselves seemed to twinkle. 

“Yeah? I think you’ll find I’m the rottenest of the bunch.”

“Not so rotten if you’re my mate, though.”

Azriel prayed you couldn’t see how red his face was turning. If you did, you didn’t say anything. Only further settled in his arms, watching the clouds as you passed them by. 

Though Azriel preferred flying fast, loved the thrill of it all, he found himself wishing he had savored this moment a little longer as he landed outside of the home he built for you. He sat you gently on the ground, a hand on the small of your back as you steadied yourself. 

“I thought we would go to the River House or the House of Wind,” you said. 

He couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or not. You only stared up at the cobblestoned cottage, the wisteria growing along the walls. You eyed the window boxes filled with your favorite flowers. Azriel opened his mouth, ready to offer to take you elsewhere, when you turned your gaze to him. 

“What is this place? How have I never known about it?”

“It was supposed to be a mating gift,” Azriel said. He couldn’t look at you, afraid for how you might react, so he stared up at the cottage. “You told me, once, about your dream home. I can only hope that this compares.”

“When did you build it?”

“I started it the day after I found out we were mates,” Azriel said. And because he knew you were going to ask when that was, he continued, “The day Nyx was born—when you were crying because you were so scared about losing half your family and I just held you. That’s when I knew.”

You said nothing for a long moment. Azriel swallowed a lump in his throat, praying to the Mother he hadn’t scared you away. That you wouldn’t ask to be taken back to Spring, this entire thing be damned. You didn’t do that, though. 

No, you stood up on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth instead. “Thank you, Az.”

Shadows flitted around the kitchen, grabbing the ingredients you wanted and bringing them to you. Azriel often chided you for turning his shadows, the very things he used to spy and torture and kill, into little pets, but he loved it all the same. There was something he liked about you exposing the darkest parts of him to the light. Besides, it was his fault for leaving the shadows behind with you while he went to the market. 

You placed the tray in the oven, giggling as the shadows pulled you away to shut the door on their own, another group of shadows fiddling with the knobs so that it was at the right temperature. As the brownies baked, you took to cleaning up the mess you made. Humming a tune, you began to collect the dishes, swaying your hips as you took them over to the sink.

In the month since you had returned to the Night Court, you quite enjoyed spending time with Azriel. His plan to sleep in the guest room did not last long, for you found yourself so enamored with him that you practically dragged him into your bed. That was the first time his shadows allied themselves with you. A part of you, now, dreaded the idea of having to leave him behind when you returned to Spring. Tamlin and Azriel did not get on well, but you were certain they could at least learn to tolerate each other if they spent time with each other. 

You dried off your hands, gazing out the window over the sink. Somewhere beyond there were the rest of your family. Though Azriel had reacquainted himself with the Inner Circle, apologized for causing as much trouble as he had, he had not revealed that you were in the Night Court. He glamoured his scent so that they could not pick up on how your own scent mixed in. You wondered how Tamlin might have responded to their inquiries to visit you in Spring, but Azriel didn’t say much besides Feyre worried she had offended you. 

Good, you mused. She should be worried. She had made you grieve your relationship with her. She made you sick as you contemplated where you went wrong. She made you feel like you lost your entire family by choosing your mate. If she sat in worry, she deserved it. 

A shadow tugged on your wrist, alerting you to the fact that the brownies were finished. The shadows didn’t allow you to take the tray out yourself, but did let you begin to cut them and place one on a plate for Azriel. You bit your lip, trying to contain your smile. 

Tomorrow, you were to return to Spring. But tonight, you would accept the bond with Azriel. 

You hadn’t said a word to the shadows about your plan, yet they buzzed around the cottage as they readied for the romantic evening to come. Petals littering the floor, candles lit up around the room, a romantic song playing over the symphonium. You almost thought the shadows wished to seduce your mate more than you did. 

One tugged on your wrist as the door opened. You did hold back your smile this time as Azriel walked into kitchen, setting the bags down on the counter. 

“Welcome home,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. 

Azriel smiled against your lips. “What did I do to deserve such a warm welcome?” He pulled away for a moment, sniffing at the air. “Have you been baking?”

“Brownies,” you confirmed. You twisted out of the arms and took the plate that the shadows hovered over to you. “For you.”

He stared down at the plate, then looked up at you. “I couldn’t—” he said. 

You picked up the brownie and brought it up to his lips. “I insist. I have been blessed by the Mother with two wonderful mates, and I intend to have you both fully.”

Thunder rumbled in the sky as Azriel sank his teeth into the treat, never taking his eyes off of you. You swiped your thumb at the corner of his mouth, collecting the crumbs, and licked them off. A growl ripped through his chest as Azriel tugged you against him. 

“I suppose that’s why the cottage looks like something straight of Nesta’s romance novels?”

“You can thank your shadows for that. They did that all on their own.”

“You truly have reduced them to busybodies like all the rest,” he said, though his voice didn’t hold an ounce of malice. Azriel kissed you softly. “I suppose I should thank them, though, because I fully intend to ravish you tonight.”

“Oh, I hope that’s a promise you intend to keep.”

Thunder rumbled again. The scene outside turned darker as storm clouds began to roll in. You were prepared to ignore it all when a flash of lightning made you jump out of your skin. The front door slammed open, the wood hitting the wall so hard you were almost certain it splintered. Azriel’s hold on you tightened. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up straight. You peered over to the foyer, blood running cold as you took in the appearance of Night’s High Lord, your sister just a half step behind him. 

“I didn’t think you were so foolish to steal away Spring’s High Lady, brother,” Rhysand said. 

“I was not stolen,” you snapped. “I came here willingly. Tamlin knows exactly where I am, and that I shall be returning to Spring by morning.”

Your sister said your name softly, stepping around her mate and toward you. “You’re already leaving?” she asked. 

“I have been here a month. That is plenty long to be away from Spring and my other mate.”

Feyre’s eyes flicked to Azriel, then to the tray of brownies abandoned on the counter. “You know.”

“No thanks to you,” you said. “How long were you going to let me cry over Azriel not coming to visit before you told me it wasn’t because he hated me?”

“You know I couldn’t tell you. I hated learning about my own mating bond from the Suriel. I didn’t—I couldn’t let you live through that same pain.”

“No, you just let me think my only friend hated me. You let me think you all hated me, because you were too busy trying to find him before my mating ceremony to respond to any of my letters.”

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed at you. “We couldn’t have told you anything. We hardly understand how a triad works. How could we have explained it to you without sounding like we descended into lunacy?”

“You could have said anything!” you protested. “Feyre, you could have told me anything short of the truth. There was a threat to the Night Court, or perhaps that there were some diplomacy issues you needed to tend to. But, no, you rather that I cried to Tamlin every night, prayed that you would send some sort of sign that our relationship was not beyond repair.”

Feyre took a step toward you. Rhysand reached for her wrist, to stop her from nearing you, but she shook him off. “And I will regret that for the rest of my days. You know I have never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you have. You are my sister, Feyre, but you treated me like I was no one to you. Tell me, were my letters to all the others ignored under your orders, too?”

Her glance away from you told you everything you needed to know.

“I spent my mating ceremony, what should have been the happiest day of my life, grieving the loss of my family. I will never get that day back again.” You grabbed for Azriel’s hand, lacing your fingers through his, squeezing tight. “Don’t expect an invitation to the next.”

Feyre’s eyes snapped to yours. Silver lined them. “Please—”

“I would like to return to Spring, now, please,” you said to Azriel. “It seems I have outgrown Night.”

Without a word, Azriel winnowed you away. 

Tamlin stared at your back as you slept. You had been quiet ever since you returned from the Night Court. Tamlin understood—Azriel had explained how Feyre and Rhysand came to the cottage as you were accepting the mating bond with Azriel. He recalled the fury in your eyes as you stated that Azriel would remain in the Spring Court until the frenzy subsided. He didn’t see you much over the following weeks, so he couldn’t speak much to your state then. But when Azriel, rather regretfully, announced he would be returning to Night to deal with the fallout, you began to withdraw. Tamlin was left with the aftermath. And like Feyre before you, he wasn’t quite sure how to make things better. 

Unlike Feyre, he was going to do whatever he could to help you. He would not let you waste away, fade away into nothing. 

Tamlin kissed your bare shoulder then slipped out of the bed. If you noticed, you did not move. He continued on to his study, ignoring the curious looks of the servants still lingering in the halls, and settled at his desk. He procured a sheet of paper and a pen, and began to write. 

Azriel, he began, I apologize for my abruptness, but I must ask that you return to Spring expeditiously. While I understand that the Night Court is your home, Y/N has not been faring well without both of her mates. You do not need to forsake your home, but any time that you could spend here would be appreciated. Yours truly, Tamlin. 

He sent the letter off. Tamlin remained at his desk, waiting for a reply. But one did not have to wait for long as shadows began to soon flood the room. In the past, the sight of the shadows would have made Tamlin’s skin crawl. It was no secret the depths the Spymaster would go to, to extract information from his targets, and those very shadows were just another in his arsenal. But their arrival was signal enough that Azriel had arrived, and that was enough for the weight on Tamlin’s shoulders to lift ever so slightly. 

“Where is she?”

Tamlin rose to his feet. “Sleeping. She doesn’t know I asked for you to come.”

Azriel nodded. A few of the shadows abandoned the study in search of you. The shadows, generally, still disturbed Tamlin. In the month you and Tamlin got your affairs in order, those damned little things scarcely left your side. He was certain they even hissed at him for daring to be near you. Slowly, though, they began to grow on him as they came to the collective understanding that both parties were looking out for your best interests. 

“How have things fared in the Night Court?” Tamlin asked. 

“Feyre is distraught,” Azriel said. He turned his gaze to the ceiling, as if trying to stop them from rolling right out of his head. “Rhys has been insisting I bring Y/N back so they can talk things through. He does not take kindly to my own insistence that, if Feyre wished for things to get better, she should be the one to make the first move.”

Tamlin snorted. “And here I thought you were just a loyal dog.”

Azriel flashed a smirk. “Oh, I am. Just not to him.”

Good, Tamlin thought. If there was anyone who deserved his loyalty, it would be you. Kind, sweet you. Tamlin once thought your family was loyal—they certainly seemed to think they were looking out for your best interests when they took you from the Spring Court. And they had been so diligent about visiting you before. Every month at the start of the month, he would receive a letter asking permission to visit. The Inner Circle always arrived before he could accept. That was, until the invitation to the mating ceremony was sent out. Despite both you and Tamlin sending inquiries and invitations, not a single one ever responded. When they failed to show up at the mating ceremony, Tamlin decided then that he would never forgive them. 

“How long do you intend to stay?” Tamlin said. Azriel brought nothing with him, save for the clothes on his back and the weapons strapped to his waist. 

“As long as you’ll allow it. I tendered my resignation this morning,” Azriel said. “I’ll begin the search for a home here in the morning.”

“Don’t bother,” Tamlin said. Azriel looked stricken. His brows pinched together, mouth settling into a frown. Realizing his error, Tamlin corrected, “You can have a home here if you like. Your own room, or you can share ours. We might have to get a bigger bed, given your wingspan, but it would be no trouble.”

Azriel’s wings twitched. “You would do that?”

“You are her mate as much as I am. You may be willing to settle for only a piece of her life, but I would be remiss if I stopped you from having all of her.” Tamlin waved his hand, urging Azriel to follow him. “I have some more comfortable clothes you can change into. We should both rest.”

“Tamlin—” Azriel said. Tamlin paused. “Thank you.”

“There is nothing to thank me for. Will you need to return to the Night Court for your things, or will you be purchasing replacements?”

As they walked down the hall, the servants even more confused than before, Azriel said, “My shadows will retrieve the necessities. There won’t be much. I intend to have a fresh start here.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing Spring is all about rebirth then.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

Tamlin watched as Azriel smiled when they reached the bedroom. He slipped inside, so silent that Tamlin could’ve been convinced that he was alone if he didn’t see the Shadowsinger with his own two eyes. Tamlin lingered in the doorframe as Azriel approached your side of the bed and knelt down. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, murmured a quiet I love you. 

Your eyes fluttered open. You blinked slowly as you took in Azriel’s appearance. “You’re supposed to be in Night,” you whispered. 

“I believe I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

You turned your head slightly, brows pinching together when you didn’t see Tamlin laying beside you. “Does Tam know?”

“Who do you think invited me?”

A sleepy smile twitched on your lips. “When do you leave again?”

“Whenever you decide to push me away.” Azriel kissed you. “And not a second sooner.”

Feyre stared at the cream invitation. It had landed on Rhysand’s desk just moments earlier, but she had already read it a dozen times. The words were seared into her mind. You are cordially invited to the mating ceremony of High Lady Y/N and Azriel. But the part she found herself reading over and over again, trying to make sure it wasn’t a figment of her imagination were— P.S. I would greatly appreciate your attendance. You are my sister, and I miss you being a part of my life.

If she went to Spring, she would have her sister again she so terribly pushed away. 

Because she had missed you. It had broken her heart to know you had come to Night to be with Azriel yet never came to see them. She couldn’t blame you, of course. You had been right. Feyre should have said something to you. It wasn’t fair for her to keep you completely in the dark. She hated when others had done it to her in the past. Why did she ever think she could do the same to you? Yet, even in the months afterward, she wasn’t sure what to say to you. 

She still didn’t. 

Feyre sat in the River House, at Rhysand’s desk, glancing between the invitation and the RSVP she was going to send in response. Rhysand stood behind her. When the invitation arrived, he said that the decision was fully hers. That he would support whatever choice to make. To stay in Night and continue to allow the relationship to strain, or to go and begin the mending process. But was there anything left to mend? You were happy in Spring with both of your mates. To go there now would be to ruin the life you’ve built for yourself. 

“Do you want to go?” Rhys asked after several moments of Feyre holding the pen in an ironclad grip.

“I haven’t seen her in months. I haven’t been to Spring in over a year. I wouldn't know where to begin.”

“Because you miss her, and she misses you. Don’t torture yourself with thoughts of maybes and what ifs. You know Y/N wouldn’t have sent the invitation if she didn’t want you there,” Rhysand said. He pointed to the postscript, tapping his finger on it. “It’s a peace offering.”

“I hurt her.”

For as long as Feyre could remember, she had been trying to protect her family. For a long time, it was all she knew. Things changed, of course, when she came to Prythian and her sisters all became High Fae. But the base desire, to ensure their safety and security, still resided deep inside her. It was why she had been so scared when you said Tamlin was your mate. It was why she panicked when Rhysand said Azriel had disappeared after being invited to your mating ceremony with Tamlin. Yet, in both instances, she had been the one to cause your pain. What if that was all she could do now? Maybe she was better off, maybe you were better off, if she stayed away.

Rhys let out a sigh. “You did, but she’s giving you a chance. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all this time?”

“It is.”

“Then, I think you already know the answer.”

Feyre pressed the pen to the paper. She slowly wrote her response, worried that if she moved too fast, she would write the wrong thing. But, Cauldron, it didn’t feel write to just write a letter to you. If you were truly inviting her back into your life, if you truly were trying to mend the relationship, you deserved more. 

She dropped the pen and rose from her seat. Rhysand followed her and she stalked out of the office. Ignoring her mate’s questions behind her, she went to the living room where the rest of the Inner Circle waited for Feyre and Rhys. Everyone stared at her when she arrived. She couldn’t take this uncertainty anymore. 

“Well?” Nesta asked, breaking the silence. “Are we breaking this ridiculous stalemate together, or will I be going to Spring alone?”

“Together,” Feyre said. “We’ll go together, now. I’m sure they won’t mind a surprise visit.”

Nesta flashed a rare smile. “Good, because Elain and I would have dragged you there kicking and screaming.”

#tamlin x reader #tamlin x fem!reader #tamlin x female reader #tamlin x you #tamlin x y/n #azriel x reader #azriel x fem!reader #azriel x female reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin fan fiction #tamlin fanfic #tamlin fan fic #tamlin fic #azriel fanfiction #azriel fan fiction #azriel fanfic #azriel fan fic #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #starrywrites #starryevermore

[ervotica]

pairing; tamlin x fem!reader

warnings; smut (18+ ONLY), oral (f receiving), p in v, free use kink, sub!tamlin, degradation kink.

a/n; this has been on my mind for far too long… men are sexy when they’re pathetic <3

smut under the cut…

Tamlin who gets off on you ignoring him. Who climbs between your legs where you’re splayed on the king-sized bed, lazily flipping through a romance novel you picked up earlier in the day. Tamlin who moans when you roll your eyes and feign disinterest as his thick fingers shuck the fabric of your skirts up and curl around the thin lace of your underwear until your bare cunt is revealed to him. Tamlin who ruts into the bed pathetically as he buries his face between your drooling folds and slakes his thirst on the sweet taste of you. Tamlin who almost creams in his trousers at the taste of you, at the way you don’t so much as blink as he takes what he wants; you don’t even acknowledge him, still engrossed in the pages of your book. Tamlin who rips your dresses to shreds, tears them from your form just to hear you scold him in that sharp voice that sends shame roiling through him like venom. Tamlin who sinks himself into you, rocking his hips with such a fervour that the bed-frame moves right along with you. Tamlin who bites, who scratches and claws at you because he knows you’ll hiss and slap his hands away defiantly. Tamlin who hooks his arms around your waist until your body bows in the middle, until your soft breasts press to his chest even as you refuse to look at him. Tamlin who gasps and growls as he cums, who collapses on top of you with a pathetic, broken whine when he’s finished, so un-lordlike that you’ll undoubtedly humiliate him for it next time. Tamlin who hikes your naked form upright despite your scathing reprimands, who tugs you close and holds you against his panting chest. Tamlin who breathes out a ragged sigh when you finally drop the act, reaching up to card loving hands through his hair and press ardent kisses to his jaw, whispering sweet, loving praises in his ear. Tamlin who can show you every facet of himself because he knows you won’t balk, wouldn’t ever dream of leaving him.

#tamlin x reader #tamlin x you #tamlin smut #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin fluff #tamlin acotar #acotar fluff #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #tamlin fic #tamlin blurb #tamlin drabble #tamlin #acotar #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar smut #smut writing #smut with feelings #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #writing for fun #writing for myself #fanfic writer #writerblr #acotar writing #acotar fandom #you x tamlin

[tadpolesonalgae]

To Old Gods

Tamlin x reader

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

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

Day 1 for @tamlinweek : Heir of Spring

music: Tamlin, by Faun

word count: 1k~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#tamlin x reader #tamlinweek2024 #tamlin fic #tamlin #high lord of spring #a court of thorns and roses #tamlin x you

[duaghterofstories]

Me: I’m just writing a simple Tamsand Time Travel fic, don’t overcomplicate it.

Also me: Let’s add in a running plotline revolving around the Mother, and add flashbacks and make her a character in the story, and rewrite basically their entire story of religion, just for funsies.

#i only meant to write tamlin telling a story but it spiraled #pro tamlin #tamsand #acotar fic #acotar #pro tamlin fic #tamlin fic

[arson-09]

“A Court of Bones and Dust, A burning star falling to spring.”

“They told her he was a beast, an untameable monster doomed to roam his own lands after causing his own downfall. Catrin isn’t so sure of that.”

I haven’t written a single chapter for this fic yet but i have made art, the outline, and a handful of ocs who i have gotten very attached to and made way too much lore about. also writing those little summaries are the devil, i wanna yap too much :(. so i decided to leave that out and just post the art and let anyone whos curious ask questions! ill be posting little teasers and shit while i work on the chapters but i just couldnt keep the art to myself anymore, too excited :D

Tag list: @achaotichuman <3 if anyone wants to be tagged lemme know (and if u asked before and i forgor. i forgor alot)

#acotar #pro tamlin #a court of thorns and roses #tamlin #Tamlin art #tamlin fic #pro tamlin art #Arsons writing #Arsons art #digital art #I didnt have to make the amount of ocs i did but theres like no characters in the spring court #and the way i personally wanted to write tamlins healing arc (which is inspired by my own ‘healing’ arc) recquires the magic of friendship #the magic of friendship rlly is magic #acotar fanfiction #acotar drabble #i have so many ideas for them and how tamlins character will work with my ocs #literally dropping this and RUNNING #I have SO many ideas for tamlins pov which is probably gonna end up being very sad and angsty #i have a tendency for coming up with the best way to make characters sad

[northern-polaris]

*crawls out from the from eternal darkness* I BRING FORTH THE SECOND PARK OF TAMLIN FIC OMG. I am going to make a part three that will be just self-indulgent to the max. I hope you’ll like reading it as much as I will writing it. I put the title as a tag so you can find the first one if you want. Spoilers for part three: I need to watch how fiddles are played and if anyone can direct to me a quote where it mentions whether Tamlin is right or left handed, that would be appreciated. No beta we die like Andras. Enough of my rambling, enjoy!

I Swear I Lived(2/3):

The bird, seemingly placated from Tamlin’s words, jumped from his snout to the ground with an audible plop. It then started to hop away in the direction of the ruined nest while Tamlin sat there on the ground, absolutely stunned.

An indefinite amount of time passed before Tamlin snapped out of his stupor. Blinking rapidly, He rose back to his feet and trotted over to the bird who was pecking away at the ruined nest.

The bird was tearing it apart.

Standing there in bewilderment, Tamlin watched as this bird ripped through its home, breaking apart the foundation with no hesitation. In mere minutes, the nest was beyond recognition and diminished to just a pile of small sticks and straw.

Tamlin tilted his head in confusion. The bird, ignoring him, surveyed the damages, jumping around to peer at his work from different angles.

With what Tamlin swore was a nod of satisfaction, the bird came to a stop before turning to stare at him. He stared back.

It felt like hours passed before the bird broke eye contact, picking up one of the sticks–the largest one–with its beak and took flight. Tamlin’s eyes followed it to a branch that was connected to the biggest tree in the area.

The bird placed the twig on the branch, eyeballed it for a moment, and then flew back to the pile. It picked up another stick and repeated the same motion. One stick at a time, it slowly constructed a new nest on the branch. Tamlin stayed rooted in place, his eyes never straying.

The bird took a seat in the new nest and started to prune its feathers, evidently pleased with itself. Tamlin opened his mouth to comment but a sudden and harsh gust of cold air whipped his face and through his fur, effectively silencing him.

Suddenly, rain began to pour down from above and pelt him relentlessly. The leaves overhead provided little protection against the barrage. The storm had, at long last, arrived.

The rumbling of thunder grew deafening and lightning illuminated the sky in a beautiful display of unrestrained power.

Even though he was soaked to the bone and his rational mind screamed at him to find better shelter, Tamlin could not tear his eyes away from the nest.

The new nest of the bird not only appeared to withstand the harsh, cool winds, but it also seemed to be sheltered from the water that fell like sheets.The dark and gray clouds dumped what felt like an ocean's worth of water onto the landscape as hours passed, yet Tamlin’s eyes and body would not move.

In some amount of time that he could not recall, the storm had finally eased and the first rays of light revealed themselves beyond the clouds. The bird was still sitting in its nest, both were in pristine health and condition. They had survived what the world had thrown their way.

It was at this moment that Tamlin was able to pry his eyes away and stared at his paws. Water slowly traveled down his legs, carrying filth and whatever unpleasant things ended up on him with it.

Bright, metallic yellow slipped through in the cracks of his fur, which had been previously colored a dull beige from negligence and dirt. Soon enough, his coat was restored to its natural sheen of pure gold.

Tamlin felt choked up with strong emotions that he could not name, gawking at himself and what the storm had done. Suddenly, a rush of giddiness took hold of him, and he felt his lips twitch upwards. Looking up, Tamlin gave a small chuckle; something that he assumed he had forgotten how to.

“I suppose I needed that--”

His bird was gone. The nest was gone. The branch was completely barren. His heart rate spiked in alarm and the rest of his sentence was choked out of him. Quickly, he launched himself over to the bottom of the tree, finding no sign of either the nest or his bird. He searched and searched, but he could not find them.

Tamlin was left alone again, and numbness took hold. With one last search around the tree and stream, he had begun to meander back to the manor.

Maybe there was no bird and no nest. Maybe nothing was there. Maybe Tamlin shouldn’t have expected anything else. This should be a good thing. It reaffirms that he’s absolutely insane, and there should be closure in that, right? It’s an absolute fact. Tamlin likes facts. Acceptance of facts are easier to digest than the crippling terror of the unknown. Being forced into resignation hurts less than being plagued by paranoia and the ghosts of the past. Tamlin knows that for a fact.

Or does he? It’s already established that he doesn’t know anything about reality anymore, so how can he even trust anything? How can he even trust himself?

He would have gone further into the bottomless pit of self-loathing if he hadn’t walked face first into something hard with a loud thunk.

Tamlin swore he heard a crack, whether it came from his skull or the other object would remain to be seen. Staggering back a few unstable steps, Tamlin gazed up at the place he survived in for centuries: the manor.

The manor that he had slept in for the majority of his life. The manor where he had eaten and slept countless times. The manor where he and Lucien would roam the halls, drunk of both alcohol and joy. The manor where Feyre painted on her canvas and danced with him. The manor where his father and brothers would torture him in ways he could not and would not recall. The manor where so much pain and memory was held.

The manor where he had no solid foundation anymore.

Maybe Tamlin had survived here, but maybe he never lived here.

Maybe he could consider trying to live instead of survive.

Maybe, just maybe, Tamlin could consider destroying this old nest and building a new one on a better tree.

#pro tamlin #tamlin #Tamlin fic #Tamlin x healing #I Swear I Lived #hopefully I’ll get the next chapter up in a shorter time than this one #it mentions Lucien and Feyre so idk if I have to tag that

[utterlyotterlyx]

When I Met The Devil

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Part Two to When I Kissed The Teacher which you can read here.

Summary - Azriel adored everything about you, but there was still certain information that you were keeping from him. Azriel finds out exactly what you've been hiding thanks to a particularly unfortunate visit.

Warnings - mentions of sexual abuse and neglect, angst, mentions of trauma

It had been three months since Azriel had taken you on your first (of many) dates. Azriel had been so nervous, not sure where to take you that would be able to live up to your expectations, even Nyx had given him some ideas by babbling on about what made you smile in the classroom.

Apparently you loved nature, of course you did, you were from the Spring Court. So Azriel had packed up a picnic and taken you to a garden of wildflowers away from the city to watch the sunset and gaze at the stars. You had taken his breath away when you had opened the door to him, you had dressed in a loose fitting pale blue dress with white flowers embellished into the bodice, the sleeves hung off of your shoulders and your hair lay unbound down your back.

That day had been one of the best days of his life, he had gotten to know you beyond your profession and learnt so much about you, but the nagging feeling that you were omitting some truth tugged at him, but not enough for him to make a deal about it. Azriel had kissed you under the stars, he had run his fingers through your hair and kissed you so passionately that you swore the world had stopped moving just so it could watch you

Since then, you had been inseparable.

Azriel showed up at the school each day after that, sometimes in the morning at drop off or in the evening at pick up, sometimes both, and he always brought you flowers or chocolates or anything he could think of that would bring a smile to those lips. He would walk you home, but more often than not he would pull you inside the River House and force you to have dinner with them.

You never objected to his wishes, you enjoyed his hands on you far too much to say no.

Azriel was happy to take things slow with you, you were so gentle and pure, if you wanted to wait years to share a bed with him then he was okay with that. You were worth any wait.

One morning you had opened the door to the school, frowning slightly when you couldn't see Azriel or Feyre and Rhys with little Nyx waiting on the grass. They would have told you if Nyx wasn't well and needed to take the day off unless it was serious, but even then, Azriel still would have showed up on the grass with our without Nyx just to see you.

It plagued your mind all day, and you did your best to conceal your worry from the children and continue as normal, but when it came to home time and none of them were there, you knew something wasn't right.

You had locked the room up quickly and stopped by a healer to pick up some infant friendly tonics just in case Nyx needed anything, bundling the vials in your hands as you rushed down the winding streets of Velaris, allowing your feet to take you where you needed to go whilst your mind reeled with endless possibility.

Lifting the hem of your skirt as you ascended the steps of the River House, you completely missed the scent that haunted your nightmares, too frantic with worry to notice it curling around you like chains. Then you saw the back of his head, shoulder length blonde hair and broad shoulders, and then the scent hit you, one of Spring rain and lifeful earth, and you dropped the vials in your hands onto the floor, not even flinching when they broke and cut through your skin.

The thing in question turned his head to the side and sniffed, smirking with feral delight before he fully turned to you, and you saw nothing else but him and those eyes that had made you do things you didn't want to too many times, they were dark and honed in on their prey. His lips tilted upward and he rose to his feet, and you didn't hear anything anyone else was saying or commanding as he strode across the room and stopped right in front of you. You didn't dare look up, you couldn't, and then his fingers gripped your chin harshly and forced your gaze upward.

"I've been looking for you," the room held a collective breath, his shoes crunched down on the broken glass and the liquid parted under his weight.

You knew that they were all watching you, waiting for you to say something, you averted your gaze to Azriel who was on his feet, fists clenched and glowering at the male who dared to touch you, "Nyx didn't show up to school, I thought he was sick, I was bringing tonics."

Feyre rose to her feet beside Rhys, "It's okay, Y/N," her eyes were soft, she could feel your terror, they all could, and then it seemed like your secret and finally been released from the depths of your shame, "Let go of her, Tamlin."

Tamlin chuckled but didn't take his eyes off of you, he cocked his head to the side and breathed you in, "Don't tell me to take my hands off what is mine," his voice was dangerously low, possession had taken over every part of him and the wolf was coming out to play, "Isn't that right, fiancé?"

"I'm not your fiancé," tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes and Azriel saw how small Tamlin made you feel, your shoulders had curled inward, your entire body was preparing to protect itself against the male who held your head in his hands. You looked to Azriel then, "I ran. I couldn't do it," you blinked hard and your tears flowed down your cheeks.

"Just because you ran doesn't mean that the agreement is void, Flower," you cringed, you felt helpless in his grip, like all of the independence you had worked for was nothing but dust dancing in the breeze, "The Tithe has been particularly awful without you."

Azriel lost it then, he grabbed Tamlin by the shoulder and forced him round, the action making his hand jolt away from your face, and Azriel landed a sickening blow to the side of his face.

"This is not a battle you want to fight, Tamlin," Rhys stood beside Azriel who was panting with fury, he knew what the Tithe was, they all did, and the thought of Tamlin using your unwilling body as a vessel for his sickening ritual was enough to send Azriel into a blind rage.

Azriel bent down to Tamlin's level, noticing Feyre rush to your side as he did to comfort you, and growled, "Touch her again and it won't be a battle, Tamlin. It will be a war."

Tamlin had the gall to grin, "She's my fiancé, Shadowsinger. Not even you can get between that."

"No, but I can," Cassian grabbed Tamlin by the neck of his coat, hauling him to his feet in front of Rhys, "Y/N is a member of the Night Court, she is a cherished member of my family. She is not your mate, so you have no claim on her and you know it. Now, leave my city before I cut your head from your shoulders and leave Spring lordless."

Knowing he wouldn't win on Night Court soil, Tamlin scoffed and headed for the door, not before stopping at your side and letting his gaze roam your figure, "They can't watch you forever. I'll see you soon, Flower."

Then he left.

And you stood standing in Feyre's arms pale and frozen, looking at the broken glass on the floor and shaking your head, "I have to go," you announced, peeling yourself out of Feyre's embrace and feeling like a completely awful friend to her, "I'm sorry."

"Y/N.."

You couldn't stick around and listen to her call your name, you couldn't stay there and witness Azriel looking at you like a stranger. So you ran. You ran all the way home, you didn't stop for a single moment until you closed the door behind you and slid down the wood, bursting into chest wrecking sobs.

If anyone would know who you were, it would be Lucien Vanserra, he was Tamlin's friend after all.

The red haired male found himself dragged before the Inner Circle by Elain, a thing he detested, he had just returned from the human realm and wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up with his mate, sitting in front of them was something he wanted to be rid of and fast.

"What do you know about Y/N? She came from the Spring Court," Lucien's eyes widened in saddening alarm at Feyre's question, he looked about the room as if you'd pop out from a corner at any given second.

"She's here?" Feyre nodded, "How is she?"

The question took them by surprise, and confirmed what they already knew, that you certainly we no double agent, but they had to know your story, it was a matter of protecting you, "She could be better. Tamlin was here."

Lucien's eyes darkened into molten lava pools and his nostrils flared, "Did he see her?" the silence confirmed his own query and he looked deflated, his shoulder fell and sadness floated over his face, enough sadness that Elain had moved to his side and wrapped his hand in her own.

"We need to know everything," Rhys ordered, moving his gaze to Azriel who was itching to leave the house and go to you, but even he had to know what had happened.

The Autumn male sighed, feeling conflicted, not wanting to tell your story for you but knowing he had no choice, "Y/N belongs to a very powerful Spring Court family, her father wanted a direct line to Tamlin so offered up his eldest daughter, Y/N, for marriage. Her father was a prick, no doubt still is. He sold Y/N to Tamlin like she was worth nothing more than what she could breed. She tried so hard to put off marrying him, she wanted a long engagement so that she could get to know Tamlin but everyone knew she just wanted more time to find a way out. Then the Tithe came and even I couldn't stop him from taking her into that cave," Lucien looked to Feyre who knew Tamlin all too well to know that what he was saying was nothing but the truth.

"Each year after that first Tithe, he sought her out against her will, you could hear her crying bouncing off of the walls. I couldn't watch it anymore so I helped her escape, I gave her enough money to be able to travel the continent and never heard from her again. I just did all I could to throw him off, to keep him away from her. Y/N was the happiest person in Spring, everyone loved her so much, and Tamlin ruined her."

"Seems like a pattern," Feyre cleared her throat and settled into Rhys' warmth that had wrapped around her like a blanket. She felt horrible, she thought she had it bad, but at least Tamlin never took her against her will like he had done to you repeatedly.

"Feyre I don't want to compare, but you have to understand that what he did to you was not nearly as bad as what he did to her. He took her light away, he forced her into a darkness I've never seen before or seen since, the neglection was sickening, she would cry for days on end, she'd mourn the life she dreamed of. It was unbearable."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, "She made it here though, I knew she'd find where she belonged in the end."

"Why didn't she tell me? I would have understood."

Rhys shushed his mate, he knew how much Feyre loved you, they all did, "Sometimes you don't want to talk about what others made you do," his mind drifted and eyes glazed over as he remembered his own story for a moment, the painful memories tugging at his heartstrings.

Rhys knew how it felt to be used against your own will, he knew how it felt to lie there each night and feel like a worthless pawn in someone else's game. He knew how it felt to work yourself into exhaustion trying to forget the terrors others had willingly inflicted on you.

If anyone could truly understand you, then it would be him. And there was no way he was going to let you lock yourself away and perish with shame when you had a family and life awaiting you.

#imagine #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #fanfiction #maasverse #rhysand #cassian #azriel x reader #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #rhys acotar #tamlin #tamlin acotar #nyx #acotar series

[thrumugnyr]

Based on Memento Mori by @northern-polaris

#i read this fic a year ago and it is still occupying my mind #tamlin #andras #acotar #acotar fanart #a court of thorns and roses #just things tamlin is up to all alone in his mansion

[honeybeefae]

Strawberry Wine (Tamlin x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY ELEVEN: APHRODISIACS

Summary// Calanmai was something you knew about but never took part in, preferring to stay on the sidelines or at home. It would be your luck that tonight, right at the Great Rite began, you would get picked right as you tried to sneak away. Before you can refuse, a sweet-tasting wine is given to you that makes your mind fuzzy, thighs clench, and Tamlin look better than ever. 

(I said I was picking back up on Kinktober and in celebration of Earth Day, why not celebrate with the High Lord of Spring? This is my first time writing for Tamlin, and I’m lowkey excited! I hope you all like it <3)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+. Aphrodisiac Usage (so Dubcon), Biting, Slight Breeding Kink, 

You have attended almost every Calanmai since reaching your maidenhood but always stayed in the dark. Watching your friends and others drink and be merry, giving back to the land and magic was fun, but you were the notorious wallflower. 

Of course, you fantasized just as much as the other maidens about getting picked to help Tamlin in the Great Rite. It was always an honor to be picked, but after everything that happened over the last few years, this Rite was important. It would be the ultimate test of whether Tamlin could remain High Lord. If he could produce enough magic to heal the land…and hopefully himself. 

Working as one of the servants in his house, you saw firsthand how Feyre and Hybern had made him a shell of his former self. Whispers of his weakening power were heard in every corner of the house. You hadn’t been under him when everything had happened, only the aftermath, but it hurt you to see someone so low. 

Even if it were his own choices that led him to that place.

As the drums sound out, signaling the beginning of the Rite, you awake from your thoughts and begin to weave through the crowd. You did dream about being picked, but given the circumstances now, you pity the girl who was chosen. She was as much as responsible as Tamlin in the ritual.

Fire dances along the cave walls as you murmur apologies, trying to squeeze past the crowd that only seems to get louder and louder. A cool breeze whisps past you, almost as if it were trying to whisper something, but before you can focus on it, you feel a rough, calloused hand grasp your wrist. 

“You.” 

Time freezes along with your body as you recognize the rough, low voice. All eyes are on you, taking in every detail of your body as they try to decipher what made you stand out before they all come to their senses and cheer.

Tamlin doesn’t wait for your excuses that were already building on your tongue, turning back to stalk further into the cave that you had only seen in the darkest corners of your mind. You swallow, wondering if you could turn to dash, but before you can, several hands start to push you forward. 

Your stomach lurches, and your vision blurs as you stand before several friends, family, and fellow court members. One of them, an elder, smiles warmly at you and holds up a single gold goblet. She whispers something akin to a prayer, though it is so loud you can barely hear her, before she brings the cup to your lips. 

“Wait, please,” You raise your hand to push it away, staring at her pleadingly. “I’m not the right one. I was leaving. I’m the wrong girl.”

“Fate is never wrong, young maiden.” She hums, her fingers brushing away your stray hairs. “Drink. You will feel better.”

And despite every alarm bell going off in your head, you obediently open your mouth. It was as if she put a spell on you. The drink, a sweet wine that tastes faintly of strawberries, goes down your throat easily. Your tastebuds seem to explode at the richness of the alcohol, craving more as you grab the goblet yourself and tip it all the way back. 

There were chuckles behind you as you frown into the empty cup, looking back up to the woman only to realize she looks slightly fuzzy. In fact, now that you think about it, everything seems blurry. 

A warmth blossoms in your belly that makes you sigh, your eyelashes fluttering as the heat goes further down. You’re distantly aware that you are in public and should definitely not be rubbing your thighs together like you’re doing, but the shame is nowhere to be found. In fact, the only thing you can feel is desire. 

“What’s…what’s happening to me?” You mumble, mouth going dry as the woman takes your hand and guides you to where Tamlin had gone.

“It’s an aphrodisiac, my dear. Something to lower your inhibitions and anxiety. It will allow more magic to flow through you and into the Earth.” She explains. You know it makes sense. A lot of people are held back by their own fears and cannot access their full potential. 

The light dims the further you go until you feel her let go of your hand. You want to protest, to turn and run, but something otherworldly seems to push you forward until you see a small campfire flickering. The people you heard cheering and singing earlier had fallen silent, the air itself stilling as you peek around the corner to see the man waiting for you. 

However, in the state he was in, you would describe him as more savage than man. His clothes were all but shredded, symbols painted onto his skin that seemed to glow as his hair fell out of its braids. You couldn’t see his face but knew his pupils were dilated, his canines probably sharper and longer. 

“I can smell you,” Tamlin growls, turning his body so that his intense gaze meets your eyes. “I picked you out immediately.”

“I can smell you too…” You whisper, the wine heightening most of your senses as the scent of cedar, rain, and faint honeysuckles fills your nose. It makes your mouth water. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to do this. She gave me-”

Suddenly Tamlin was in front of you, your eyes immediately falling to his hard cock before he grasps your chin and pulls it up so that he could look into your eyes. There is a wide range of emotions, but the most dominant one is anger. 

Anger?

“What did they give you?” His jaw clenches as he turns your face from side to side, taking in your glassy eyes and disheveled appearance. “They gave you the wine, didn’t they?”

“Why are you angry?” You skip over his question, raising your fingers to smooth over the frown lines on his forehead. 

“Forgive me for not being thrilled that you are currently under drugs in order to sleep with me.” He snaps, pulling away from your touch. “I would never take advantage of you like this. And for them to think that you needed this…that no one would…”

You might be out of it, but you could feel the pain in his words. He didn’t know about the wine. His mind was spiraling, not only for your safety but also for the fact that his court members thought no one would want him anymore. That this was something they would have to force someone to do. 

It confirmed all the worst things he thought of himself and his court. 

But you weren’t forced here, not truly. Of course, you were hesitant at the beginning because you had never done something like this before, but now that you were here…you were sure that even without the aphrodisiacs, you would still feel this yearning. 

This was sudden and not how you expected the night to go, but you weren’t upset. In fact, it was something you had been dreaming about. You hated seeing Tamlin holed away, to see how broken he was. You just wanted to heal him. 

“Tamlin…” You say softly, taking the same approach one would do for an injured predator.  “Tamlin, look at me.” 

He does, and it damn near breaks you. All the pain, sorrow, anger, disappointment, grief, it was drowning him. 

“This may not make sense because my mouth feels numb,” You smile, cracking a joke. “But first of all, please understand no one is forcing me here. I know I could leave any time, I know I could have refused the wine, I know what this means, and I chose it.”

“But-” He starts to protest, but you hold up your hand and smush your finger against his lips. 

“Shhh, listen to me,” You soothe. “I cannot imagine what is inside your brain right now. The pressure, the memories, it sounds like hell. Just…let’s just forget about it tonight. Let this be the distraction you need, the healing this land needs, and tomorrow, we can worry about the rest.”

Tamlin gazes down at you, green eyes holding you still as he cups your face with shaky hands. The wind picks up around you, tickling your thighs and arms, before it pushes you forward and up to meet his plush lips.

Somewhere, distantly, you swear you hear fireworks going off as you immediately return the kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck, pressing your body impossibly closer as his fingers thread through your hair. His warmth only adds to yours, making you feel like an inferno as you swipe your tongue along his bottom lip teasingly.

You meant what you said about tonight being a distraction. You are going to take full advantage of sleeping with the High Lord. 

His chest rumbles with a growl that resonates to your core, pulling away for a brief moment to look you over before he claims your mouth once more. This time, it is much more passionate. Teeth clash, his once gentle fingers in your hair become a harsh grasp as he pulls your head to one side to expose your neck and shoulders. 

“Cauldron save me,” He whispers into your skin, peppering open-mouth kisses to the column of your throat. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve craved this.”

“Likewise-ah!” You yelp as he bites down on your shoulder, just hard enough to make you wince. This doesn’t deter him. Instead, it spurs him on as he lifts you up effortlessly and pushes you against the cold cave wall. 

“Look at you, petal,” Tamlin smirks as he cups your face again, running his thumb across your flush cheeks. “And we’ve barely even begun.”

“Please,” Your voice is high and needy as you feel his cock rut up against you, your panties already soaked through. “Please, I need more.”

He clicks his tongue and slips one of his hands between your bodies, his eyes screwing shut as he feels just how wet you are. You moan loudly when he shoves your underwear to the side and teases your cunt, brushing over your clit before shallowly dipping two fingers inside.

“Tamlin!” You groan, resting your head against the wall as he chuckles. 

“Trust me, I want to bury myself as deep as I can inside this delicious pussy,” He moans, pushing his fingers in deeper to stretch you out. “But I have to make sure I won’t hurt you. I want you to take all of me, love. Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Hearing him use such crass language only makes your whines increase as he curls his fingers, playing with your body like he knows every cord. You pant as his pace increases, feeling his precum leak onto your thigh as you beg and plead for him to just fuck you. 

It’s only after what feels like an eternity that he pulls out his fingers and nudges the head of his cock against your entrance. You want to close your eyes, to make sure you feel every sensation, but Tamlin maintains eye contact as he presses his forehead against yours. 

“I want to watch your face as you swallow my dick, petal. I want to watch those beautiful eyes tear up from the stretch and pleasure, to feel those little shakes as you take more and more.” He says lowly, kissing you one more time before he starts to thrust into you. 

You couldn’t hold the moan in even if an arrow was notched against your head. Your cries bounce off the walls as he sinks deeper and deeper into you, his breaths coming out in pants as he finally bottomed out. His hands fall to your hips, digging into them with his emerging claws as he looks up at you. 

The pupils were so round that you could barely see the green in his eyes, his teeth clenching as he pulls out slowly and thrust back up. The sensation pulls out a string of curses, and that is all the encouragement he needs to start fucking you. 

He isn’t gentle, not caring that your back was scraping painfully against the cave wall or that his claws were almost piercing your flesh. Tamlin seems to be more beast than man, and you were no better, the wine enhancing everything as you swear you can feel him pulse inside you. 

“Yes, yes, fuck right there!” You cry out, arching your back to try and get closer to him. 

“That’s it, love, scream for me.” He growls as everything around him sharpens. You could feel something tingle in the back of your mind, like a gentle kiss, but he hits your spot, making your mind go blank. 

And you do. You are certain they could hear you all the way in the night court as you feel your cunt tighten around him. Your orgasm had snuck up on you, but now that you were on the edge, you knew it was going to drown you. 

Urgency begins to grow between you as he thrusts faster and harder. It was stealing the breath from your lungs as you chant his name, wrapping your arm around his neck and pulling him into your sweaty chest. Tamlin waste no time in kissing and sucking on your breasts, tugging on your nipples as his own balls start to throb. 

“Cum in me, please, Tam,” You whimper, grinding down so that your clit is rubbing against his abs. “Fill me up with your seed, please!” 

Before you can even blink, you feel him snap his hips up so sharp that it sends you hurdling over the edge. The tides of pleasure fill your lungs and drag you into darkness as your eyes screw shut, your orgasm so powerful you swear you can feel the ground shake. 

And when Tamlin follows right behind you, his teeth connecting to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you actually do feel it shake. It sends the two of you falling down, but he is quick to catch you, cradling your head while continuing to fuck you full of his cum. 

He pulls away long enough to roar before he kisses you fiercely, your own blood mingling with his saliva as you slowly start to come down. Tamlin rolls to the side and brings you with him, laying you across his chest while remaining inside you. 

The sound of music is the first thing to stir you to look around, realizing the wine is starting to wear off as your gaze falls back to the High Lord. He looks positively sinful, his chest red and sweaty from exertion while his lips hold a playful smile. 

“It’s nice to see that again.” You smile, suddenly bashful now that the liquid courage is gone. 

“I have a feeling you’ll see a lot more of it in the future.” He responds, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Are you okay?”

You look yourself over, noting the bruises and scrapes, but you know they will heal soon. Mentally, you felt…well, those feelings were better saved for another day. Instead, you nod and rest your head on his chest, not wanting to spoil the moment. 

He kisses your head, and when you nuzzle down further, your sensitive sex gives a small clench, and his chest rumbles with a warning. 

“What? Are you already ready for round two?” You tease, lifting your chin to look at him. 

Tamlin smirks again and pokes his tongue against his cheek, giving a weak thrust inside you so that you can feel him harden. 

“You’re in for a long night, petal.” 

#acotar #acotar reader #acotar smut #acotar reader smut #tamlin x reader #tamlin x reader smut #tamlin acotar #tamlin #tamlin acotar smut #tamlin x reader acotar #tamlin x reader acotar smut #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #tamlin smut #spring court #acotar reader imagine #tamlin imagine #acotar reader imagine smut #acotar reader fic

[readychilledwine]

Exhibition and Voyeurism

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Exhibition is the sexual arousal of being watched or looked at naked or while performing a sexual act. Exhibition is a kink that most of us actually tend to have to some degree. We can live it out in a place as simple as in front of a mirror with just our partner, by partaking in group sex, or in some places, there are clubs you can attend that attract the swinger and BDSM lifestyle that allow exhibition shows and scenes between couples. This kink is just one side of a very fun and exciting coin.

Voyeurism is being aroused by watching others during sexual acts or naked, and that is the second side of this coin. Voyeurs can find their kicks through a few different methods, but a common one we as a society have stopped associating with both of these kinks are strip clubs. A Voyeur may also be someone who partakes in cuckolding.

I've used exhibition/voyeurism in a few fics before since it is one of my favorite kinks to learn and write about. If you are interested in those, let me know, and I can send you some links 💕

💕 Peep the Valentines Day List Here 💕

💜Read Drumming Song Here💜

As always- NSFW below cut

Rhysand x TamlinsSister!reader

Warnings - could be seen as dubcon in nature (use of sex pollen), Rhys having to wear his mask, public sex, mentions of watching public sex, reader is used by Amarantha to send message to Tamlin, no mentions of seeing Tamlin during the act though, inferred power play with 3 people, forgot to send this to a friend to have them find errors, so forgive me.

Rhys kissed your shoulder, his eyes slightly haunted as he stepped back. “It's been a month,” he whispered gently. “She wants it done tonight.”

Tonight, of course she did after forcing you, Tamlin, and Lucien to watch Feyre beaten into a pulp. You swallowed heavily, stilling your mind while knowing what was to come. “She's doing this to hurt him,” a small smirk came to Rhysand's lips, causing you to glare. 

“You practically came to the idea of this not that long ago.” His hands were on you within a second of you turning away from him. Arms wrapped you tightly into him. “This is about your safety. Your protection. She believed you are my toy, therefore will not touch you due to my loyalty.” His voice had dripped down to a soft purr, echoing from your ear to the rest of your body. “You know I would not ask this of you if it wasn't absolutely necessary.”

Wine appeared before you. It reflected a soft golden shimmer and smelled faintly of citrus. Rhys picked it up, bringing it to your lips as he stared at you in the mirror. “You were so good for me during the Rite. Just be my good girl one more night, darling.” 

He pressed the cool glass against your lips, tilting it in silent command. “Trust me.”

You nodded, eyes watering slightly. You would never live this down. It would forever stain your history, stain the Spring Court's history. You allowed him to force the sweet liquid into your mouth, swallowing it as he placed a kiss to your temple. 

By time two shadows were done dressing you, your skin had started on fire. 

Heat pooled your body like a fevered dream making everything hazy. Every brush of their hands on your skin was heaven. 

But Gods when Rhys came in, when your mate came into the room smelling of power and seduction, you were instantly on him.

 Rhys smiled, hands going to your hips as he scented your arousal. You could faintly hear your brother growling, hear Amarantha's cruel voice, but all that mattered was Rhysand. “Are you ready, darling?” 

This wasn't one of Amarantha's usual parties where the air was stiff with tension and hatred. No, she had tapped into the more animalistic side of fae, allowing drinking, fucking, and fighting. 

You were currently perched on Rhysand's lap, core dripping as you watched two females eating each other out as if they'd found water after months in the Day Court's deserts. 

The gown you were in was completely see through, leaving none of your body to the imagination. You could hear Rhysand growl each time you two were approached at your high table. 

His hands had begun to roam. Squeezing your breasts, your plush thighs, you ass. 

You had begun to subconsciously rock on his thigh as need began settling into your bones. Rhysand's hand moved down, cupping your sex as he began placing tender kisses along your throat. “Good girl,” he purred. “Need help, baby?” You nodded eagerly, gasping as he spread your legs so you had one on each side of his thighs, opening you up to the room with only a shimmering fabric barely hiding you. 

He took one of your arms, forcing it behind his head and pulled your back to his chest.

A long finger circled your clit, causing you to moan loudly. You felt some eyes snapping over to the both of you, locking in on where that hand played with your soaked pussy. Looking over with flushed cheeks, you watched as Helion took a heavy drink, his eyes tracking each movement of Rhysand's hand, his body stirring with each moan and gasp you released. 

It took but seconds for you and Rhysand to be the main show as his finger began teasing your entrance. 

The Lord of Night and the Rose of Spring.

Death and Life.

The idea of you two was erotic alone, but seeing it had some of the fae in the room on their knees, as if worshiping every soft plea that left your mouth. 

When Rhysand finally pushed two fingers in, you couldn't help the scream of his name. You went to turn your head, only for his other hand to grip your hair, keeping your vision locked on where the other fae where fucking in a group. 

Whatever he had given you had dropped your inhibitions. It had relaxed you so completely your mind had forgotten why this was being done. You began riding his fingers in time with a pretty female sitting on a male's face. His fingers were curling, hitting that perfect spot and sending spark after spark through you. Your slick was dripping down his hand making him chuckle darkly in your ear. “Look at you, baby. Look at you getting off with all the High Lords watching you. All of their advisors watching you.” You whined in despair as he took his fingers out of you, forcing you to stand long enough for him to take his cock out. 

His beautiful heavy cock just waiting to plunge into you. To feel you. He sat back down, keeping your back to his chest before sinking you down fully on him. 

You came shamelessly as he bottomed out, but had no time to rest as he ripped the thin material of your dress off, leaving your body bare to all in attendance and began thrusting into you. 

Eyes were tracking each bounce of your breasts, each drop of sweat, each sweet moan causing your lips to part. Rhys retitled your head to where Amarantha sat watching. Her gaze was predatory, dangerous, and filled with lust.

In a normal situation, it would have disgusted you, but as you rode him, as every inch of you stretched out around him further fueling the fire in your lower tummy, she didn't matter. 

No one mattered.

It was just you and him, putting on a show for anyone to see and enjoy.

Your inner walls began twitching and pulsing around Rhys causing you to beg. Your eyes rolled with each movement, mouth falling open as he fucked you stupid. 

“Do not be rude, Rhysand. Allow our poor y/n to cum.” 

Rhys kissed below you ear before licking the pointed shell. “Cum for me, not for anyone else, for your mate.” 

Stars clouded your vision as you screamed his name, mind falling into an even deeper has as his thrusts grew sloppy inside of you before he followed behind. 

It was then that he bit your pulse point hard enough to trigger another orgasm, allowing your body to milk every last drop from him. Rhys allowed you to collapse against him, giving you a few moments before he lifted you and used magic to fix his pants. 

He fully lifted you bridal style then, nodding to Amarantha as he carried you back to his room. 

“Again,” you whispered to him, hand finding his face. “I need more.”

Rhys kissed your palm when it reached his cheek. “I will give you your fill in our room, y/n Darling. Just let me get you away from all those eyes first.”

You nodded sadly, peering up at him with puppy eyes and making his steps falter. “What's wrong?”

“I liked it. Again.”

The soft demand had His gaze going dark. “You will be the death of me, y/n. But if it is at the cost of this perfect cunt, then who I am to complain?”

General tag list:

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

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

Valentines Day Taglist

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

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhysand fic #rhysand x tamlin sister!reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand acotar #rhys x reader #rhys acotar #rhys x y/n #rhys x you #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

[ennawrite]

just wait until those Rhysta antis hear about Tamsand. Rhysta is a fun idea that we know could never, ever happen in canon text.

But Tamsand? That’s a ship I really do think could have been plausible in a pre book one world. Like the possibilities are endless when it comes to Tamlin & Rhysand (prior to the murdering each other’s family fiasco, ofc). Even now, they have the energy of past scorned lovers.

You’ll have to pry these ships from my cold, dead hands.

#acotar crackships #tamsand #rhys x tamlin #rhysta #rhys x nesta #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fun #acosf #acomaf #acowar

[ervotica]

pairings; tamlin x reader, tamlin x lucien vanserra, tamlin x elain archeron, lucien vanserra x reader, lucien vanserra x elain archeron, elain archeron x reader. tamlin x lucien x elain x reader. this is a poly fic!

a/n; my first tidbit of these four! still undecided on whether it will stay x reader or i’ll create an oc (leaning towards oc atm but let me know!) any thoughts or discussions for this dynamic and these four are open! my inbox is always open for them <3

warnings; none really just fluff, suggestiveness, established relationship dynamic, polycule

thinking about how hard elain would blush if you started calling her lainy.

she hides her face and muffles her giggles with the palm of her hand as you coo over her, the nickname falling from your honeyed lips in a way that has her skin prickling with heat, subtly fanning at the white-hot flush that seizes hold of her every nerve ending.

lucien positively roars with amusement at the effect you have on her, his willowy stature drifting over to the pair of you where you’re sat in the grass, hair tousled and windswept with the breeze of the spring morning. he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks and snorts at the residue of heat that emanates from elian’s milky skin, flushing her a soft shade of pink.

the way tamlin follows the redhead’s lilting laughter always amuses you, as though he has a sixth sense for the three of you, drawn to you like a magnet. he drops a kiss atop elain’s head fondly before he’s hooking his arms beneath your shoulders and hiking you up and into his lap to whisper tauntingly in your ear.

“teasing, are we, my flower?”

“never!” you gasp, swatting indignantly at his chest; he only tightens those thick corded arms in response, nudging at your jugular with the bridge of his nose. a deep hum seeps through his chest when you go limp and pliant, a content smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. he presses a kiss there, too— right at the crease of your lips, the lines carved into your face from years of laughter.

lucien’s lithe fingers are pushing at elain, ushering her into tamlin’s arms right beside you so he can cage the pair of you in, his arms easily finding purchase splayed over you both, sandwiching the four of you together in a mismatched sort of embrace. elain has gone soft against tamlin, mirroring you, ever the epitome of tranquility: eyes closed, a placid smile on your face as your mate nips and kisses at your bare neck.

lucien crowds your space some more, a fervent kiss pressed to each pair of lips in turn; he lingers on tamlin, his tongue darting out to probe further into the high lord’s mouth, jostling both you and elain slightly until you’re pressed chest to chest, trapped between the males as the sounds of wet kissing and deep, gravelly moans encase you. elain tugs you forward by means of her fingers curled around the bodice of your dress.

“c’mon,” you guide her out of the tangle of limbs, coming to rest only a few feet away from the males, who are now tearing at each other’s clothes. “animals…” you muse, eyes bright with laughter as you press a hand to her ribcage and nibble at her bottom lip. she gasps, instinctively arching to press more of her body to yours. she’s docile and receptive as you lay her down in the lawn and crawl on top of her.

you grin and it’s wicked, alight with mischief.

“come on, lainy. we don’t need those brutes to have fun.” her responding giggle is muffled by your mouth slanting over her own, soft hands - so unlike that of your mated males’ - threaded through her hair.

she thinks she’d do anything you’d ask her as long as you keep talking to her in that sweet voice.

#spring court #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x elain archeron #elucien #tamlin x elain #tamlin x reader #elain archeron #elain archeron x reader #elain archeron x you #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #tamlin x lucien #tamcien #lucien x tamlin #poly!spring court #elain archeron smut #tamlin smut #lucien vanserra smut #lucien vanserra fic #lucien vanserra fanfic #tamlin fic #tamlin fluff #tamlin fanfiction #elain x you #elain x lucien #elain x tamlin #writers on tumblr #writing #acotar fic #tamlin x you #tamlin x lucien x elain x reader

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[nocasdatsgay]

Fanfic: Barging In

Pair: Eris/Reader

Rating: T (Fluff)

Word Count: 771

Summary: Eris becomes High Lord and goes to get his mate in the middle of the night.

Notes/Warnings: Spring Court Reader. Tamlin is there but he’s not any trouble. Reader POV

Read here on ao3 or below the cut

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You’d been sleeping peacefully. It took a while to adjust back to being in your home court of Spring with Tamlin almost back to normal. You were finally able to sleep through the night most nights now. You’d been dreaming about a forest when you stilled in your dream, the smell of bonfire coming through and you looked around for the source. 

You didn’t find it- you were jolted awake when you felt hands on your body. You screamed, thrashing about to get away from whatever grabbed you. Your feet hit something solid and you screamed again, trying to crawl up the bed. 

“Stop kicking me! Love, it’s me!” 

You stilled, panting and looking at the figure next to you. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dark and your mind to catch up with what you heard and saw. It was Eris, his red hair and skin practically glowing and illuminating the room. You didn’t remember that from the last time you saw him.

“What, Eris- why- how are you here?” 

“I’m High Lord now,” he said, his voice soft and stirring that bond in your chest. “I’ve come to take you home.”

You were still stunned and confused. “In the middle of the night?” You hissed. 

He grinned at you. “I can’t wait another day. Trust me. I’ll send for your things, don’t worry.”

Then Eris scooped you up out of bed and tossed you over his shoulder, still in your nightgown. You yelled again and hit his back. “Have you lost your mind?”

He only laughed at you as he carried you out into the hall. You heard the rattle of armor and guards shouting. You flushed red with embarrassment. 

“Eris put me down!” 

“Eris, what the hell are you doing?” You wanted to die as that voice belonged to Lord Tamlin. 

“Taking my mate home,” Eris replied as if he didn’t just break several laws by barging into another High Lord’s manor. 

He stopped and Tamlin called out your name. “Do you even want to go with him?” He asked. He was more calm about this than you anticipated. “Eris put her down.” 

You lifted your body up, slightly dizzy and looked to see Tamlin shirtless, half laced trousers thrown on in a hurry. He was giving you an out. “I-“

Eris cut you off. “I’ll sign those trade agreements that had sat on my fathers desk for months and lower the import tariffs if you let us walk out of here right now, unscathed.” 

“Eris,” you glared even if he couldn’t see your face.

Tamlin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you want to go with him, yes or no?” His question was directed at you. 

You sighed. “Yes. But don’t tell anyone he hauled me out of here like a mindless brute.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Tamlin sounded beyond exasperated. “Break my wards again, Eris and I will kill you.” 

“Understood,” he said with a serious tone. “I’ll send you the documents in the morning. And I’ll request for her things- the right way.” He then patted your rear, making you jolt and flush again. “I’ll be taking my mate home now.”

You glared into the darkness as he proceeded to start walking again. Tamlin made eye contact with you as you both passed and you glared at him. He did nothing to hide his amusement. You couldn’t be too angry. Tamlin knew you were Eris’s mate. He knew the feelings were mutual and had known for decades. 

You were certain that was the only reason he let you both walk out without another word. Eris finally pulled you off his shoulder and down into his arms when you both reached the manor doors. You hit him on his shoulder while he opened the doors and carried you into the courtyard. 

“You did this on purpose,” you pouted. The sentries at the door ignored you both but you knew they were snickering to themselves. 

Eris turned and whispered as he carried you past the wards. “I will make it up to you, love. Once I sign those agreements in the morning, I have nothing planned outside of keeping you in bed for the rest of the day.”

Your scent betrayed you as you thought about being with your mate for the first time in nearly a century. He grinned at you, want in his eyes and his own scent changed ever so slightly. 

“Take me home,” you whispered back. 

“See, I told you to trust me.” You rolled your eyes as he grinned and winnowed you both to Forest House. 

#Did I write this instead of chapter 2 of Lucien’s fic #Maybe I did #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #Eris/Reader #Female Reader #No Y/N Use #Fluff and humor #Tamlin is over it too #Spring Court #Spring Court Reader #acotar

[lady-of-tearshed]

Stupid Spring! Stupid allergies!

Lucien Vanserra x Reader

A/N: I'm currently suffering from allergies AND asthma. So I'm making it Lucien's problem. Bear with me, I wrote this with 4 hours of sleep. 🫡💕

Sumarry: You are visiting Lucien's old friend in Spring Court. Only, your allergies are being a pain in the ass, and you can't wait to get the fuck away from this Court of Sneezes and Tissues.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: None.

Divider made by @saradika-graphics 💕

Your eyes were dry from staring at the turning clock hands centered on the tapestry covered walls. You turned your head to the side of the bed, throwing an accusatory grimace at the extravagant pollen nest. People would most likely call that pollen nest a colorful and pleasant smelling bouquet of extravagant looking flowers, but to you, it was just a fucking pollen nest. And a big pain in your ass, considering your allergies and unbearable asthma. You take a deep breath and roll out of bed, sniffling. You shove the bouquet out of their vase, and carry it towards their tragic fate. You open up the window as quickly as possible, and throw them out of the window, closing it back before any pollen could sneak in. You look over Lucien’s side of the bed, and spot another one of this enemy's hideout. You yank the bunch of sadly beautiful flowers, almost making the vase smash onto the ground, and give that bouquet the same fate the other one succumbed from. You peer over the window, at the piled up flowers, and silently clasp your hand in content. You close the window, once again, and as if the flowers were getting revenge on you, despite their absence, you sneeze, and mutter a curse. 

The softness of the linen sheets welcomed you back in bed, and if it weren’t from those allergy symptoms, you would’ve fallen asleep like a baby, just like Lucien was. You roll on your side, staring at his beautiful features, and you sigh in content at the sight of him. You wiggled closer to him, watching his chest fall and rise, his lips slightly parted, and take in his scent. He smelled just like usual, but there was an additional smell of mint lingering on him, probably because he brushed his teeth before bed. His body was hot, so hot… He was hot in every sense of the word, actually. His thigh muscles looked like they had been carved by the Cauldron itself, you ran your fingers along those, his golden-brown skin shone under the moonlight filtering through the curtains. He shivered and grumbled as your hand started stroking his delicious thigh, and you can’t help but pout and pull your hand away at how grumpy your mate was when asleep. You took an exaggerated loud sigh, hoping Lucien would stir from his peaceful slumber to accompany you through your insomnia. 

“Lu,” You whisper through the silence at your first failed attempt to obtain his attention. The constant ticking of the clock echoed through the ridiculously huge bedroom of Tamlin's manor, it was the only sound breaking through the silence as you waited fo Lucien’s russet eye or golden prosthesis to open. That idiotic redhead was peacefully snoring beside you, and you swore that you could see drool pooling from his soft lips with the rising daylight that filtered through the pastel colored curtains. “Lu,” You whispered again, shaking your mate's shoulder a little to wake him up. Why wake him up? You didn't know. Maybe you just wanted him to suffer from the same lack of sleep he was putting you through by forcing you to come here, only to visit his old friend. It felt as if your nose was filled with snot, and your eyes filled with sand. How could something as small as stupid pollen make you feel as if you were on the verge of dying from the lack of oxygen properly entering your lungs? You gently nibble on Lucien's ear, and he grumbles, clicking his tongue and shoving his hand in the air as if he was chasing away a fly. “Sleep.” He whines sleepily, and you scoff. “Sleep?! You think I can sleep?!” 

He rolls on his side and yanks you into his arms, he wraps them around your waist, making sure to not crush your lungs. “M'love… You took those allergies and sleep tonics before bed, there's not much I can do even if you pull me out of the peaceful land of dreams,” You gasp out an offended sound, and Lucien sighs, just wanting to knock that dramatic attitude out of you and fall back asleep. “So what, when our children will be sick and need you in the future you'll just drug them and sleep through it?!” He narrowed one eye open at your slightly frustrated tone, a lazy grin appears on his face. “Love, we don't have children. You said you didn't even want them yet. Changing your mind now?” He purred, snuggling his face in your neck. You tried to scoot away from his embrace, but Lucien wasn't having it. The more you tried to wiggle out of his grip, the more his fingers mercilessly tickled your ribs. “Nope! I'm certainly not changing my mind so soon about having children. Lu- Stop it!” You wheezed, trying to hold back your chuckles because you knew that would only fuel him to continue. 

“Alright, alright. Now be a good girl and close those pretty eyes,” He locks his arms around your waist, holding your back tightly against his chest and pressing a lazy kiss at the top of your head, “We'll be taking our leave tomorrow, I'll inform Tamlin that my precious and strong mate has succumbed to pollen.” You mimic Lucien’s annoying tone under your breath, but his Fae ear caught your voice. “What was that?” He challenges you to do it again, but you only growl in defeat, sneezing once more. “That’s what I thought. Good night, I love you, my beautiful flower full of pollen.” He snickered, proud of the nickname he just now made up to tease you. You cross your arms, but bring one of his hands to kiss his knuckles, even if your cheeks were bright red from his constant mockeries. “Love you too, my big pain in the ass.” “Your very lovely ass.” He added, before falling asleep in a heartbeat. How fucking lucky he was to easily fall asleep like that, you thought. 

—

You stared blankly at the steaming mug of black coffee in front of you, and poured a ridiculous amount of maple syrup in it. Your eyes dart up in Tamlin's direction when you hear his choked laugh coming from his side of the table. As delighted you were to hear that spark of happiness coming back to your mate's dearest friend, you couldn't help that dark stare directed to him, matching the dark circles looming underneath your puffy eyelids. “Slept well?” “Wonderfully.” You and Lucien answer at the same time, the read-head's voice sounding way more cheery than your sarcastic and raspy one. You continued to eat in silence, and you kicked Lucien’s feet from under the table as if to say “tell him!”. Lucien cleared his throat, and spoke up, “We’re leaving for Dawn today, to visit Nuan.” Tamlin noded, a wicked smirk growing at the corner of his lips. “That’s wonderful, I’m sure Thesan and Nuan will be delighted to see you again and meet your mate, Lucien,” He bit his lip to stifle a laugh, and by the glimmer that shone in the High Lord’s irises, he knew that he was about to tease you a little. Tamlin's cheerful voice rang again, “I heard that they had trouble with pollen lately, too. There have been high winds in spring lately, and it might’ve made the pollen travel all the way there… Unfortunately.” You drop your spoon in your coffee, almost breaking the cup as you shoot a panicked glance towards your mate. But your expression immediately turns from a troubled to an annoyed one when you notice the two Fae males bursting into a fit of laughter, tears at the corner of their eyes. “Ha.Ha. Very funny you two.” 

At least now, Tamlin was happy. And Lucien was too, because currently, his friend was healing. And getting better. 

#acotar #fiction #acosaf #my fic #fluff #vanserra #lucien vandaddy #lucien x you #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #lucien acotar #pro lucien #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x you #lucien vanserra x y/n #lucien #my lulu #my lulu 🥰 #tamlin #tamlin acotar #tamlin redemption #tamlin redemption arc

[arson-09]

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #tamlin #pro tamlin #Tamlin fic #im too indecisive #help me besties

[b0xerdancer-writes]

About to post 2 full weeks of fic after fic including one whole week of work for the @tamlinweek prompts!

Wip Fics:

Baby Fever fic oneshots:

Our Little Secret Eris x Azriel’s Twin!Reader

Snow White Peaks Cassian x Illyrian!Reader

A Second Chance Rhysand x Reader

Welcome Back Lucien x Tamlin’s Sister!Reader

This Little Light of Mine Helion x Reader

The Heir of Spring Tamlin x Archeron!Reader (This is both the last baby fever fic and the first Tamlin Week fic) coming Sunday April 14th

Tamlin Week fics

Monday April 15th: The Warrior with the Poets Heart

Tuesday April 16th: The Rockrose and the Thistle

Wednesday April 17th: The Maiden that Stuck Around

Thursday April 18th: Paper Faces on Parade! Inspired by Andrew Lloyd Webbers song in Phantom of the Opera

Friday April 19th: Beauty and The Beast

Saturday April 20th: Where No One Knows Your Name! Inspired by Aurelio Voltaires song Masquerade on the album Raised by Bats. Originally one of two fic ideas I had for Day 5 of Tamlin Week.

Series Parts

Baring Teeth Part 2

It Wasn’t Supposed to Happen Like This Part 7

#wip #acotar x reader #acotar #planned fics #eris vanserra x reader #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #tamlin x reader #cassian x reader #helion x reader #rhysand x reader

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube