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sxnktaalxna · 4 months

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Azriel X Acheron Sister (Female OC/Reader)

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

If Feyre was the hunter, then she was the carer. Where Feyre's hands became painted in crimson, marred by calluses and burden of survival, (Y/N)'s were gentle on skin, clearing the dirt from cuts and bruises that gave her and her family life.

When the family lost their fortune and left Feyre dragging her family towards tomorrow, she'd felt abandoned. The weight felt like a rope wrapping itself around her hands, cutting into her palms. As much as she loved her family, she didn't know how much longer she could continue risking her life each day to come home with a meager meal and an ungrateful audience. Until she found her dear younger sister, still fresh faced as the morning dew on grass, outside in the rays of fresh sunrise cutting apart the firewood Nesta was meant to the night before.

Feyre felt her guilt rise each day she saw her younger sister's hands grow more and more like hers, but her guilt was put to rest when (Y/N) would gently reach over and interlace their fingers. No matter how hard her skin became, her touch remained as soft as her soul. Her spirit had not been broken despite all this, and Feyre owed it to her to not break either.

(Y/N) loathed seeing her sisters in pain. And especially Feyre, but she knew her sister would drag her own corpse out that wooden door than let her family starve. And each night she came home, (Y/N) felt her heart beat again to see her sister safe.

So the day she saw her sister leave to take care of a sick aunt she'd never heard of, (Y/N) felt a piece of her heart leave with her. She'd wondered each day if Feyre was well, if she had found the time to paint like she used to. If Feyre was grateful to have reprieve from her family. But now, with her father's wealth restored and a full belly each night, for the first time since she was a child, (Y/N) felt content. Her beloved sisters were happy, her father thriving and Feyre off to see the world and, she hoped, pursuing the talent that she had. Although they got their estate back - one she found Nesta and Elain to be particularly pleased about - she couldn't help but miss the days when they would huddle around a small fire, Feyre by her side.

(Y/N) had taken the longest to adjust to their fortune. Too young to begin proper learning, she had to learn from her sisters. It was a struggle, learning to read and write at her age. And too used to hand me downs and holes, the softest silks and velvets on her skin felt foreign where Elain and Nesta felt at home. She wasn't ungrateful, but it felt wrong when she didn't know how Feyre was. She wondered if she hadn't heard from Feyre because she was busy, or perhaps her letters get lost too easily. But without a doubt, she knew her sister was ok.

'Miss (Y/N),' a gentle knock resounded from the door. (Y/N) looked up from her book at Mrs Laurent's voice - a children's book of pirates and faeries in a far away land. She had missed a part of her childhood, and she wanted to catch up as best she could. 'Your sisters request your presence in the drawing room.' Before she could ask, Mrs Laurent scurried away without another word.

She furrowed her eyebrows, confused at Mrs Laurent's skittish behaviour. Regardless, she made her way to the drawing room, where she heard her older sisters' voices, plus one more. A voice she hadn't heard in a year.

Pushing open the carved oak door, her eyes laid sight to a familiar stranger. No longer was she gaunt, with hollow cheekbones and bruised eyes. There she sat, healthy and glowing, and more beautiful than she ever remembered. As if from a painting made of a thousand paint strokes and the brightest shades of colour.

'Feyre,' she breathed, running into Feyre's already open arms. As pieces of a puzzle fit, the sisters embraced as one. Pulling apart, Feyre's fingers framed her sister's face. Her youth had begun to flee, as now stood before her was a woman, with intelligence in her eyes and a smile of the sun.

'My, you've grown up without me,' Feyre chuckled, tears blurring her vision like a hazy dream. But it wasn't a dream, and her sister was thriving and well.

(Y/N)'s eyes wandered her sister's face, with the longer she looked the more startled she became. At first she thought it was the lack of hunger, with Feyre no longer needing for food. But the longer she looked, the longer her mind grew confused. Her sister's beauty was beyond comprehension, and it was confirmed by the slight point of her ears. Her gaze flowed down to seek familiar sights and scars, only to find smooth, poreless skin amongst new, black markings crawling her arm.

Fae. The very thing her family warned her to fear. To hate. To hunt and despise for their cruelty and violence. Yet looking at her sister, she saw nothing but the winter nights Feyre would keep her warm and fed. The days when Feyre would give her an extra serving, even if it meant going hungry. All those memories, and yet...

'(Y/N),' Nesta's sharp voice rang, her fiery eyes piercing Feyre. 'Sit down.'

Elain moved a space over in the sofa, a cup of tea in her hand. (Y/N) looked at her sisters, inhaling before taking a seat next to Feyre. Nesta's eyes sharpened, nostrils flaring slightly as Elain glanced between her younger sisters. Feyre smiled, interlacing their fingers like they always did.

'I need you to listen.'

-☆-

'You wanted other High Fae to come...and...the Queens of the Realm'.

It was overwhelming, to find out her sister's disappearance was a lie. Of the struggles and pain she had gone through on her own. How she had been living in luxury while her sister had suffered - had died. Her grip on Feyre's fingers shook as her sisters argued.

'Find somewhere else.' Nesta demanded. 'I don't want them in my house. Or near Elain and (Y/N).'

'Nesta please,' Feyre pleaded. As Nesta fought back with Feyre, all (Y/N) could think about was Feyre's lifeless body, abandoned and forgotten by her family living in the warmth and comfort Feyre fought for each day in the woods. How each time Nesta and Elain would demand more and more from her, and how (Y/N) did nothing.

When Feyre had left, Nesta and Elain did their best to care for her - in their own ways. Elain, undeniably the more affectionate, would often sit with (Y/N) as she did her embroidery. She would often chat away about her new fiance, about the garden she had been tending to. But questions about (Y/N) fell short when looking at her younger sister. Nesta was more difficult to read. Often she'd been berated by her older sister during lessons, expecting her to reach their own levels of intellect in barely a fraction of the time they were given. But she found moments of care, when she woke up in the library with a blanket and her book marked where she had fallen asleep the night before.

She loved her sisters. She adored them all for caring over her for her entire life. But Feyre was unlike a sister. She was a mother, a carer, a saviour, her hope in life. Her dearest friend. And she would not leave Feyre hanging on her own any longer.

'We'll help.' All three sisters turned to her, her first words taking them all by surprise. 'We will help, because we didn't before. We abandoned you, I will not abandon you again.'

Feyre's eyes widened. Her baby sister, no longer a shy doe but a mighty deer, standing on her feet with her head held high. Nesta grit her teeth at her younger sister's sudden defiance, as Elain slowly nodded in shy agreement.

'We keep it a secret - we send the servants away.' Elain agreed, twisting her hands in her lap. 'No one will know'.

More words were exchanged, but (Y/N) paid no mind as she sipped her scalding tea. It burned her tongue and throat, but it kept her thoughts away from her guilt. Perhaps this was a mistake to invite more fae into their family home. Perhaps she'll find herself bewitched and dragged into Prythian for her weakness and naivety. But if asked, she would put her life in the palm of Feyre's hands without a second thought.

Once Elain left to shoo away the staff, and Nesta left to likely get away from Feyre, she turned to look at her sister.

'You're so beautiful now,' Feyre sighed, brushing her sister's hair behind her ears as if not a single day had passed. 'Have you been well?'

'I'm alright, but you...We hadn't heard from you in so long...'

'Please,' Feyre interrupted, seeing her sister's sadness and fear in her eyes. No matter how long it's been, she could always read her sister. 'I'm glad you're safe. We have a lot to catch up on.'

-☆-

Once the last carriage of servants disappeared into the night, Feyre's three guests arrived. They were large - both that they occupied so much space, but their auras seemed to permeate through every room of the house. Large wings attempting - poorly - to hide their true size weapons on their waists. Her sisters seemed to suffocate on their sheer authority, Nesta shielding Elain behind her as Feyre brought them closer.

'My sisters, Nesta, Elain and (Y/N) Acheron', the three companions seemed to light up at the last name, a name they heard fall out of Feyre's mouth in moments of trust and fondness. A name that Rhysand knew brought uncapped love and joy to Feyre.

'Cassian', Feyre nodded to the large figure on her left, to the Fae with golden brown skin, hazel eyes and black shoulder length hair. He was the tallest of the three, who nodded at his introduction.

'Azriel', Feyre turned to her right, to a man with similar features - hazel eyes and golden brown skin - but with shorter hair. (Y/N) couldn't help but linger her eyes. He was undeniably the most attractive man she'd ever seen. But it was impolite to stare, so she looked away when hazel greeted her sight.

'And Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court'.

The man with hair that shone with blue-black shades of the midnight sky, and violet eyes as vibrant as Nesta's amethyst necklace stepped forward with a smile and bowed, 'Thank you for your hospitality - and generosity'.

All three were undeniably beautiful beings, all with power and strength she had never seen or felt in her life. Their beauty felt surreal, too perfect and attractive that made even the extravagant Acheron estate looked dull. And Feyre fit right into their company. She stood where she belonged. She smiled at all three, curtseying as her sisters remained stiff at her side.

'The cook left dinner on the table. We should eat before it goes cold.' Nesta said be striding away towards her seat at the table.

'Nice to meet you,' Elain said, her voice caught in her throat as she followed after Nesta.

Feyre and her companions glanced at each other, sharing looks about the obvious tension choking the air. (Y/N) glided across to her sister's companions. Closer, they were far more imposing than she could have ever imagined, with her having to crane her neck to meet their gaze. A faint metallic scent drifted into her nose, sharp and unwelcome. Likely the magic that seeped out of their pores.

'Thank you for coming, and for taking care of my sister,' She said, stretching her hand out. If they noticed her shaking, they paid no mind as Rhysand shook her hand gently with a smile.

'It's been a pleasure,' Rhysand replied, 'Your sister has been a welcome company in my court.'

Politely, (Y/N) smiled once again before gesturing to the table, 'Please.'

Her gentle smile met Azriel's gaze, who couldn't help but watch the youngest Acheron as she took her seat next to Elain - who appeared more than happy to be sat next to her and not one of Feyre's companions. Despite her sister, Elain remained stiff when Azriel took his seat next to (Y/N). Slowly, (Y/N) slipped her hand in Elain's shaky hand.

The dinner had been a silent, uncomfortable affair. (Y/N) picked at her food, having lost her appetite from the stiff air in the room. She saw Feyre struggling to eat, and wondered if that was from the awkwardness or from being Fae. She had many questions - how different was her sister? How had she changed? How much of her Feyre was still there? It was easy to get lost in her assumptions of Fae, but for Feyre, she'd be more than happy to try.

Coughing slightly to clear the anxiety from her throat, she turned to her seat neighbour.

'Your wings are beautiful,' She said, gazing at the large expanse of leather and bone. Similar to the bats she'd seen glding through the stars, his were shows of strength and beauty. Elain and Nesta stared at their younger sister - wide-eyed and fiery, respectively.

Azriel set down his fork, turning slightly to meet (Y/N)'s curious gaze. 'Thank you. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We're born hearing the song of the wind.'

'The song of the wind?' (Y/N) asked. Undeniably she'd never heard of such a thing, but it sounded beautiful. Sounded unlike this world. To imagine herself so intuned into nature the way faeries seemed... 'It must be exciting, seeing new places and being able to touch the clouds.'

'It can be very exciting,' Azriel agreed, nodding. A gentle curve appeared on his lips as he gently added, 'Clouds feel like the softest of feathers.'

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile at that thought.

'You look like High Fae,' Nesta cut, her tone as sharp as the knife in her hand. 'But you are not one?'

'Nesta...' (Y/N) sighed, knowing her sister would not stop.

'Only the High Faes look like them,' Cassian replied, a finger pointed towards Feyre and Rhysand, 'are High Fae. Everyone else, any other differences, mark you as what they like to call 'lesser' faeries.'

'So only Illyrians have wings?' (Y/N) turned to Azriel once more.

'There are Fae that can be born with wings, but my people are the most common in my court to possess them.'

'And your court...is it always night if it's the Night Court?' (Y/N) felt more curious than shame to ask these questions. How can one not be curious when the world continues to grow in front of her eyes?

'We do have a day and night, just as other courts do. But our nights are the most beautiful in Prythian that you'll ever see.' Azriel replied. He paused silently, before adding, 'Perhaps you'll get the chance to see them some day.'

The more she learned of the magical land up north, the more she realised how much she didn't know. And the more she questioned how true her people's tales of Fae were. If they barely knew of the Fae, how can they decide that they were all barbaric? That they were merciless killers? Perhaps they'd been like Feyre - hunters of survival. Or perhaps the stories began as bedtime tales, told to children to keep them away from the woods at night.

Her heart had pulled towards her sister, and her head and family have been telling her to run. But now as she was sat next to this gentle giant, sharing tales and questions, how could she know what to believe? Was this the trick of fae? Preying on curiosity to lure humans in? Her head began to dizzy as questions bounced around to the beat of her pounding heart.

#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acheron

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nostalgicacademia · 2 months

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Dark Academia Writing Prompts

A group of students stumble upon a hidden portal to a faerie realm in their college library. They slowly return from the faerie realm, corrupted.

A student uncovers a hidden society within the university's classics department. They are preserving an immortal being who used to be worshiped as a minor deity by the Ancient Greeks.

A secret society of faeries attend an Ivy League university, keeping their identities a secret.

A love letter exchange unfolds between two strangers who communicate solely through notes left in the university library. However, if they ever discovered each other's true identities, the romance would break, and they would be horrified.

A mysterious playwright's lost manuscript is discovered in the dusty archives, revealing a dark and twisted tale that mirrors real-life events on campus.

A cellist sacrifices everything, even their morals, to join an elite orchestra. It's the pinnacle of their career. However, they left one string untied, and it threatens to expose everything they did.

A professor's death sparks an investigation that reveals a web of academic rivalries and betrayal. At the heart of it all is a plagiarism case.

A history major begins to unravel a murder that happened 100 years ago on campus.

A witch disguises herself as a professor in the occult studies department, using her position to recruit students for a secret coven.

A psychology professor uses hypnotic techniques to explore the past lives of students. During the hypnosis sessions, a student reveals something awful that their past life did. Something that's had a profound impact on the professor.

A cursed painting in the university gallery comes to life at night. The characters within it seek the help of a talented art history major to break the spell. They work together to uncover what dark forces made this happen in the first place.

A professor's fascination with ancient folklore prompts a mischievous faerie to seek their help. The faerie asks them to help unlock an ancient riddle. The professor does it, fuelled by academic curiosity, but this turns out to be a huge mistake.

A group of history students uncover evidence of a witch trial that took place on campus centuries ago. One of the victims shown in the painting bears an uncanny resemblance to a current professor. As they investigate, it becomes clear someone’s trying to stop them.

A student journalist investigates a series of mysterious deaths linked to an exclusive literature club. The murders seems to be drawing inspiration from works of literature.

A rivalry emerges between two aspiring poets who will sink to depraved acts for the coveted position of poet laureate. They'll do anything to get that prize, including murder.

By: schoolofplot

My articles on Dark Academia:

Dark Academia aesthetic

The imaginary of Dead Poets Society

The Secret History a key fandom

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duarteegreenbriar · 1 year

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In conversation with Holly Black - The Stolen Heir Tour 2023

PLEASE do not repost anywhere without due credits.

It was so amazing finally meeting Holly in person (and gush about how much I love Cardan and Jude and Cardan. And yes also bargain with her about writing Cardan POV books. At least she listened to me intently and said “We will see about it some day!” 👀)

Here are a few things she answered at tonight’s event:

- Her favourite character is Jude.

- Their favourite Starbucks drinks as per her: Jude ‘s will be Frappuccino, Cardan’s is Espresso (and she added an obviously), Oak’s will be matcha green tea latte.

- There will be another series in Elfhame/Faerie after she finished Book of Night sequel, TSH 2 and one more book. She said we will know if there will be more Faerie books, and on whom, by the end of TSH 2.

- Cardan had more siblings who got cut out last minute because she felt his family was too big.

- Qon serpent track was last minute, all she knew was that Cardan had to be in danger and separated from Jude in some way.

- The above point is because she always intended Jude to figure out how to be Queen on her own and needed Cardan away for that. Because Jude’s character arc had to include her having all the power she always craved and still choosing family and love over it.

- Holly likes hooves 💀

- She wanted to draw parallels between Suren and Jude and their choices.

- She will not write about what Jude Cardan were up to in the years between QoN and TSH because she doesn’t know it herself yet.

- Somebody actually asked if Jude Jude Jude letter had cum splatters OMFG. She clarified that no, they are indeed ink stains 💀

- One thing about Cardan that she feels is the most over looked is the fact that people ATE the snake in the end of Qon lmaooo. She cracked up here 😭💀

- She always wanted to write a character with a tail and this was part of Cardan’s characterization since the beginning.

- Her choice of Cardan in live action - she just wants a good actor that’s it lol

- She wouldn’t write a book on Madoc Eva because it’s too tragic and devastating, though maybe she might add in bits in some other story

- She doesn’t know how to write adult Cardan lmfao 💀 but she said she will figure it out 👀 (internally screamed here because WHAT does this mean??) She also said the sex scenes were short and her editor asked her to make them longer 😭🤣 (she said she does understand what we’re asking lmaoo)

- She never reads her fan fiction because she would feel tempted to change what’s in her mind

Question I asked: Her side characters are as interesting as main ones. Will we see Court of Shadows again? (Round about way of asking more about Jurdan lol)

Holly’s answer: TSH was a road trip book so it was set away from Elfhame and we didn’t meet most of the old characters. But we’ll be closer (or in *she winks*) Elfhame in the next one and we will see many of the old characters (shrugs)

#tfota #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #jude duarte #judecardan #qon #the folk of the air #holly black #the stolen heir #novels of elfhame #elfhame

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crybaby-bkg · 1 month

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cw: faerie gojo 👁️

you knew better. you were taught better. it was damn near hammered, letter by letter, word by word, onto the backs of your eyelids.

avoid faerie circles at all costs.

and yet—here you were. it started off only as a little hop, a skip, a sway of your skirt, your chin tilted toward the endlessly blue sky. before you knew it, the barren forest suddenly grew crowded, more and more beings emerging from their hiding spots. they sang with voices so sharp that if you listened too hard, you’re sure your ears would bleed. they danced so eloquently that if you focused too hard, you’re sure your eyes would pop from their sockets. their faces were so beautiful that if you looked too hard—

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” his voice was a deep croon to the side of you. you hadn’t even noticed when he glided his way to you, his shock of white hair and lashes that framed unnaturally blue eye. he was gorgeous, in his silken robes and lanky figure, his form blurring at the edges when you stared a bit too hard, makes your head pound in warning.

“Hello to you too,” you smile at the handsome man—faerie? was that not what he was, with the unnatural way he smiled too wide and his too perfect proportions? but he doesn’t seem to notice your inner dilemma, instead takes your hand and dances you round and round and round until your feet ache and your chest burns from the laughter he pulls from you.

“Can I have the name of the person I’ll dance with for the rest of their life?” he asks you, coy, when the sun has set and the forest only grows thicker with his people. you’re getting tired, know that soon you’ll regret trekking this deep into the thick greenery. your guard is lowered; you make another mistake; first the dancing; now you’re name; your soon to be sealed fate.

the faerie grins wide at you, suddenly stepping into the circle, dragging you with him despite the way your heels try to dig into the soft earth.

“And now you’re mine, beautiful little human.” he tells you with an uncanny grin, beautiful and wrong all at once. his eyes grow too ocean blue, his hands ice cold where they drag you into the circle by the wrist. your stomach sinks when you enter Faerie, your feet aching, your heart heavy knowing that you’ll never see your family again.

#idk how to feel about this Lol #I love faerie stuff so much tho #I’m order another book tomorrow called cruel prince I think #about a mean faerie prince and I’m excited for it!!!!#but anyway. faerie Satoru that is extremely unsettling in how pretty he is #he gives me Wendell bambleby vibes so hard #—new treat in the streets! 🍫#gojo treats! 🍬

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secretsofblackthornhall · 2 years

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Emma to Cristina

Dear Cristina,

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I realize the message I just sent you probably didn’t make a lick of sense, so after you’ve read it, toss it and read this. I was in kind of a hysterical state when I wrote it — I’ve been wanting to tell you all about what was going on with Mina being kidnapped for days, but I couldn’t. Then, when I could, it all just kind of poured out. Again, sorry!

It was awful not being able to say anything to you about what was happening. I’ve always hated politics, as you know—but however unusual your (and Mark’s) position, the Seelie Court would certainly consider you part of Kieran’s retinue, and we were expressly forbidden from contacting either Court about the fact that Mina was kidnapped right out of her bedroom here at Blackthorn Hall. And we obeyed to the letter.

So, it turned out the person who’d spearheaded the kidnapping was Mother Hawthorn, the nursemaid to the First Heir, who chose to marry a Shadowhunter. She’s had a complicated relationship with Shadowhunters, especially Herondales (who DOESN’T have a complicated relationship with Herondales, I ask you) ever since — and now she was demanding to see Kit if we ever wanted to get Mina back.

Nobody wanted Kit to do it, even though everyone was desperately afraid for Mina. But he was determined. There was no stopping him. So arrangements were made through a bunch of faerie go-betweens for Kit to meet Mother Hawthorn. She had demanded a rendezvous near river water, so we went down to the Promenade in Chiswick. There’s an itty bitty park there, and a little bandstand. We all — me and Julian, Tessa and Jem and Kit — walked down there, pretty quietly and somberly. Tessa kept stroking Kit’s back, and it was clear she was trying not to cry. Jem looked like he wanted to kill someone. Kit just looked determined. And Jules — well, I’ll get to Jules.

We stayed some distance away while Kit crossed the dry grass toward the bandstand. As he approached, Mother Hawthorn came out of the trees, holding Mina, and started walking toward him.

Jules and I both tensed up, in case either Jem or Tessa made a break for the baby. We wouldn’t have blamed them, but we knew they couldn’t be allowed to do it – Kit had to be able to try to get Mina without a violent fight. All I can say is, you can kind of see how much they’ve both been through and endured over all the time they've been alive. They clutched each other’s hands and neither of them moved, even though you could see how desperately they wanted to run to their children. It was an incredible display of control, and heart-breaking too.

Kit and Mother Hawthorn came together in front of the bandstand. Of course we couldn’t hear anything of their conversation, but we could see that Mina immediately put her arms out for Kit. Kit tried to reach for her, but Mother Hawthorn held up a hand. She clearly wouldn’t give her back, and they started arguing. I could tell how angry Kit was, even though he was trying to hold onto control. He kept shaking his head no over and over, almost every time Mother Hawthorn spoke.

Anyway, after a couple of minutes of that, Mother Hawthorn started to laugh. She looked over — she clearly saw us and didn’t care — and snapped her fingers. Kit was flung to the ground; he rolled over and came up on his feet, but by then black vines were whipping up out of the ground, slashing at him, winding around his legs. Mina was screaming so loudly we could hear her.

“That’s enough,” Jem snarled, and started across the street. But Julian put a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait,” he said, and we all stared at him — you know I have utter faith in Julian, but for a moment even I wondered if he’d gone crazy.

And then. Then there was this huge noise. I thought it was a helicopter at first, or maybe a bunch of helicopters, but then I realized no, the sound was stranger than that — it was hooves, beating against the sky. They passed over us and—it was Gwyn and Diana! I mean, it was the whole Wild Hunt, there were a couple dozen of them, some on horses, some on winged creatures I’d never seen before. But in front was Gwyn, with Diana on another horse behind him, her hair streaming out behind her.

Diana swooped down and grabbed Mina right out of Mother Hawthorn’s arms. Gwyn was right behind her, and seized up Mother Hawthorn in one arm—that guy is, uh, pretty strong I guess—and kind of slung her over the back of his horse. It looked pretty dangerous for Mother Hawthorn but you know, not a lot of sympathy for kidnappers here.

Diana swooped (the Wild Hunt does a lot of swooping, as you may recall) over to us, and gently handed Mina off to Jem and Tessa. Then Diana winked at us and rose back into the sky, and she and Gwyn and the whole rest of the Hunt ascended faster than I would have thought possible. I guess they had to get Mother Hawthorn away from us, which made sense. Anyway, they disappeared into the clouds and were gone.

I have to say, Diana’s wink was pretty badass. It made me miss doing badass stuff, a little. I think I’ll take Cortana out back tonight and seriously behead some weeds.

So anyway. Kit was running back toward us, and Tessa was crying in relief and Jem was staring at where the Wild Hunt had disappeared. Mina, of course, was fine. She kept saying, “Horsies!” which was hilarious, and then Kit got there and started fussing over her, and Julian and I stepped away to give the four of them space for their reunion.

Julian had one of those Looks on his face, and I had a hunch. “That was you, right?” I said. “You contacted the Wild Hunt.”

He shrugged. “Mother Hawthorn said not to contact the Seelie and Unseelie Courts, but the Wild Hunt is neither. They don’t swear allegiance to anybody.”

“Neither does Mother Hawthorn,” I said. “So it was like, ‘Wild fey, come get your wild friend, she is getting too wild?’”

“Something like that,” he said, and his voice was casual but I could tell he was pleased with himself. And all right, fine, I was pleased with him too, and I told him so.

On the way back to the house we asked Kit what it was Mother Hawthorn even wanted. He said she wanted to tell him he was the descendent of the first you-know-who (I know Kieran has told you something about Kit’s faerie heritage, but not all of it, and most people don't know) and that she had come to take him to live in Faerie where he belongs. He said he tried to make it clear that he didn’t want to live in Faerie, that he was satisfied with the life he had (although he kind of looked over at Jem and Tessa while he said it and I think satisfied is maybe less embarrassing to say than how he actually feels, which is much better than that). She just kept telling him it was his destiny and his duty, his fate would come for him soon enough if he didn’t bend to it, blah blah faerie stuff, you know how they are. (Uh, no offense if you’re reading this too, Kieran.)

I don’t think he was telling the whole truth, though, because Mother Hawthorn went to a lot of trouble just to send a message like that. I mean she could have put that on a postcard. It wasn’t anything Kit didn’t already know, basically. I am sure there was more she said that Kit didn’t want to share — I could tell from his expression. I hope he’ll tell Jem and Tessa, when he’s ready. At least we can be pretty sure Gwyn will make sure Mother Hawthorn stays away from him — it’s one less thing to worry about.

That’s about all the news from here, and I’m so relieved to be able to share it with you finally. I guess if Kieran needs more information he should reach out to Gwyn; I’ve told you pretty much all I know.

Take care, and talk to you soon, and love to K and M!

Emma

#sobh #secrets of blackthorn hall #emma carstairs #cristina rosales #kit herondale #mina carstairs #julian blackthorn #the wild hunt #diana and gwyn #diana wrayburn #mother hawthorn #jem carstairs #tessa gray

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theinquisitxor · 1 year

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Why You Should Read Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett

Emily, a Cambridge professor of dryadology travels to a remote Scandinavian town to study a previously unstudied type of faerie, in order to complete the Encycopaedia she is working on

When her colleague and academic rival, Wendall Brambleby also shows up, getting in her way and infuriating her, Emily and Wendall must work together to uncover the secrets of the faeries.

This book is like if Howls Moving Castle and Spinning Silver had a child?

Emily and Wendall give major Howl and Sophie vibes. Wendall is a dramatic, over the top sliterer-outer (and may not be all that he seems). Emily is a bit of a curmudgeon, not a people person, and dedicated to her work.

This book is a journal format, and we are reading Emily's journal recounting the experience

Footnotes!

This is a winter read through and through

Cozy-fantasy that is set during the Edwardian era, although parts can get a little bit dark (that's just how faeries are though)

the Faerie in this book reminded me a lot of the the staryk from Spinning Silver, so if you like that type of faerie, this book is for you

This book is a love letter to fairy tales, faeries, and folklore

A lovable dog companion, lesbian side characters

Changelings, brownies, Winter Kings and Faerie Princes, enchantments

This book is just clever and neat, and really opens up a lot of potential for other books

All in all, I loved it, and I think you should read it too!

#emily wilde’s encyclopaedia of faeries #Emily Wilde #Heather Fawcett #fantasy books #faeries #new releases #book recs #book recommendations #why you should read

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ventique18 · 2 years

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I’M GOING TO SCREAM?? This was Malleus’ Valentine’s letter last year:

And he said he’d give you gifts from the legend:

Gift of Beauty

Gift of Song

And what was the last gift from the faeries?

TRUE LOVE’S KISS

He didn’t complete his sentence because he was embarrassed HOLY SHIT HE WANTED TO KISS YOU?? I’m dyING HELP ME

Original twt post here

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #HE’S A SIMP I SWEAR HE’S SO OBVIOUS

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god1ngs · 2 years

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Hullo hullo, currently binging a show called The Sandman, the main character is kinda fine…

whats it about? :O

#chats #letter from: faeri

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sitp-recs · 20 days

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Hi Liv!

Do you know of any fics where draco is really heroic during the war? Like fics where he fights for the light side, kills voldemort, fights in thr battle of hogwarts, etc

I think its a really interesting trope

Thanks!!!

Hi anon! That’s a great ask, personally I love these. Most are spy!Draco fics so he’s usually helping behind the scenes:

Paper Dolls by cupiscent (M, 5k)

In the final year of the War, Draco gets a letter, makes a choice and pays the price.

Speak (and may the world come undone) by @shealwaysreads (E, 26k)

The war is on in earnest, and the hunt for the Horcruxes has begun. Harry receives help from the least expected person, and must decide whether he can trust the enemy he knows best.

In The Hand by aideomai (T, 28k)

Two months after Harry went missing, when Hermione was frantic with fear and panic and sleep deprivation, Draco Malfoy cornered them outside the Great Hall before breakfast.

9 ½ Days by magpie_fngrl (E, 69k)

After the events at the Manor, Harry and Draco find themselves stranded in the countryside with a broken wand and Death Eaters on their tail. This is the story of an uneasy truce, featuring faerie forests, seaside caves, Romani camps, kind old ladies, and a shared bed in an attic. Or how two boys fell in love in the midst of a bloody coup.

Walking the Line by SilentAuror (E, 179k)

Sixth year is over and Draco Malfoy is on the run. The war is on and an unwanted assignment is forced upon him by the only people he trusts - and a one-time arch-enemy just may be out to kill him.

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrims0n (E, 180k)

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

Eclipse by Mijan (T, 287k)

Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 302k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #spy Draco #war hero Draco

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faerytreealtars · 6 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/faerytreealtars/733702167764074496/hello-im-here-for-your-free-reading-my-question

Hello thank you for answering my question :) i was little surprised by the cards from 2 of cups and the lovers since they are cards that talk about romance and partnership. But i feel passionate about this career and i plan to start in the next few months 💘

Thank you for the feedback! Good luck on starting the path to your dreams! Now while you're right that these cards can talk about love and partnership that isn't the only meaning of the cards. The lovers can speak of choices not just romance, so in your case you're making the choice to pursue a career that you will love the most. The two of cups can also speak of coming into Union with your truth, your higher/best self which is what you may come closer to by pursuing your passion. If you feel in your soul that you are going to meet romantic partnerships through this career then take that if it resonates, I don't always see all just what spirit allows me.

#🍄 faery feedback🍄#˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ letters from beyond ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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revisitingfandoms · 2 months

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Idea Prompt 10- A soulmate by any other name would never be the same

(Or in which pure vanilla can never catch a break.)

Every Cookie had atleast three separate soulmate markings.

One Romantic, one Familial and one an enemy. That was the standard, however there were cases like his.

Five Romantic, Five Familial and no enemies.

That last part was the reason he’d been moved from counselor to counselor out of his mothers worry. After all, his parents just set to distancing themselves from him.

(Afterall- instead of nameless blurs on his arms they were names in delicate ink carved into his skin. Five Familial names written upon them and not one of them was any cookie in his direct family.)

Pure vanilla sighed and grabs the book he was reading, “Ah- I should go meet up with White Lily Cookie..” The blonde cookie couldn’t stop the burning on his cheeks at the thought of his first Romantic soulmate.

(Elder Faerie, Dark Cacao, Golden Cheese, Hollyberry, White Lily)

(All of them written clearly in varying shades of red, orange or yellow, covering him.)

( White Lily’s name written around his wrist, almost like a chain, in a deep red, a red that had small things of black in it. Many times he’d been told it meant at some point they would be at odd ends before coming back together.)

(Elder Faeries was a soft yellow with strains of bright green and moments of silver. All he would have to do to see the others name was to simply look directly at his right shoulder and he could spot the others name trailing up his upper arm. He’d been told it meant that Elder Faerie would be there- that he would be supporting him and protecting him even when he didn’t know.)

(Dark Cacao was a deep red but lighter than White Lily’s, although bits of it was blue that mixed into purple on it. Many times pure vanilla had traced the others name written onto his inner elbow. More then once the name had gotten a nod of approval, that the other would be silent, but kind, a strong but gentle protector.)

(Golden Cheese was a bright bold yellow with a shining orange texture. Going diagonally right across his forearm. His father had laughed at the counselors words, a cookie who would spoil him in anything and everything and would be willing to give him whatever his heart desired, yet would also wish to be treasured back.)

(The pinkish-red of Hollyberry’s names was bright and bold and out there. The other had the biggest lettered name right along his back arm. He remembered the words, they would be bright, loud and willing, a bright smile and more then ready to fight for him.)

Pure vanilla could barely hide his blush as he rubbed his left arm against his cheek, he paused then as he spied the name in a proud navy blue and deep fiery red, Burning spice. He sighed as he looked over his familial soulmates' names.

(Burning Spice was seared into the palm of his hand, more than once concerns had been expressed towards the meaning of his Familial soulmate. A burning, fiery passion that gave off the feeling of destruction, buried with deep seated possessiveness.)

(A dark pink and purple Eternal sugar tied around his wrist, seemingly tighter than white lily’s own. Possessive, he’d heard, Possessive and desperate. Willing to do whatever it took to keep him.)

(Pale blue with Mystic Flour written upon his upper arm like a band- just right below his shoulder. Uncaring had been the common words stated about them, until a more experience counselor turned around and told him something different. Exhausted, tired, apathetic, but not completely uncaring, possessive and not willing to lose him.)

(Silent Salt was marked out in deep purple sprawling across the back of his forearm. Quiet had been easy to know right off the bat, perhaps even distant or cold, but the words of hesitant, of bold and of possessive had not been.)

(The last name had always struck him- the same shade of blue of the academy. Shadow milk crawling across his elbow, almost always in his sight in some way due to its length. More then once he’d overheard the whispers of the counselors, unstable, they spoke with concern, intelligent, possessive, dangerous.)

(Dangerous had always been unspoken with the other four, yet they felt compelled to state it aloud. It always made him question his familial soulmates. Just who they were.)

He’s brought from his thoughts as he nearly trips from his poor eyesight, but grabs onto a nearby wall and thankfully manages to stop himself. Pure Vanilla puts his thoughts behind him as he continues onto his way to his soulmate.

Unaware to the eyes in the hallway that follow him.

Shadow milk only smiles silently as he does his best to assist his son (A son, he has a son- something those witches would have never granted him or the others, a son!). He can hear the cooing of Eternal sugar, the light growls of burning spice as pure vanilla struggles in the hallways, silent salt standing vigil at the watcher ball shadow milk had made and mystic flour lightly patting the ball with a small smile.

One day, they would exit this damn tree and then they would finally, finally be able to truly, fully greet their son.

(Heyo! Little notes this au; Shadow milk does not equal the light of truth in this au! Nor is he or the other beasts aware of what happened to their soul Jams. Also note that due to fuckery reasons Pure Vanilla doesn’t end up in hammerspace, but instead with severe amnesia that becomes triggered by the vanilla kingdom- to which he spends the next few weeks fully recovering his memories.)

(Also I would like to expand upon a thing! I am now answering any questions you may have about any of the au’s I’ve so far! Just a little event thing for the next five days!)

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clockwork-ashes · 2 months

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All You Have Is Your Fire - Part IV

Find Part I here :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge, huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who literally deserves all the credit and whose post inspired me to start writing this. I could not stop thinking about this head canon, and it was so kind of you to let me try and make a story from it :) And a huge thank you to everyone reading!

Tag List: @anishake

Part V >>

The Autumn Court was on the constant verge of death, Elain knew, but it was still the loveliest place she had ever seen. Eris had winnowed them first to the border, where the trees created a canopy so thick, she couldn’t even see the sky. The richest reds, the darkest oranges, and the deepest greens had surrounded Elain. Cora had looked as equally impressed by the change of scenery, and Elain had wondered if the woman had ever left the stifling Hewn City.

Autumn was everything Elain had imagined the lands of faerie to be like. The chill was biting, she had noticed, cold like the first kiss of winter. She had been stunned into silence, had forgotten she was upset that Eris had not even let her say a proper goodbye to her family.

Before Elain had had a moment to catch her breath, before she could truly appreciate the wild flowers and the unfamiliar trees, Eris had not bothered to warn her or Cora as he took them directly to the Forest House.

Eris had let go of her hand so suddenly that Elain had stumbled, and had grabbed onto the woman who would act as her lady’s maid. Cora had gently supported her, shooting an angry glare at the Autumn heir’s turned back.

Eris had led them through winding halls, windows dark at the late hour, torches their only light. Elain had realised that she much preferred the flickering flames of Autumn to the faelights ever-present in the Night Court.

Eris had given them a moment to look at the guest suite, all wood and stone and comfortable carpets, before he had told Elain they would be going straight to Beron.

Elain understood that Lucien was in a great deal of danger, but the quick pace at which everything was happening was enough to make her light-headed, unsteady.

“The High Lord is expecting you,” Eris offered her his arm, but when Elain hesitated, he added, “and it’s best not to keep him waiting.”

Elain did not reach for Eris, instead she asked, “Because I’m Lucien’s mate?” She very nearly spat the last word at Eris in distaste. Saying Lucien’s name out loud was like a vicious blow, especially since she so often refused to allow herself the liberty. On the other side of the wall it was improper, Lucien wasn’t Elain’s husband, and the familiarity with which his name fell from her lips was enough to rattle her.

Eris shook his head, the firelight from the torches reflecting off his golden jewellery. “Because he received your letter.” His answering smile was ruthless, that of a wolf. The expression didn’t reach his amber eyes.

Elain only frowned in confusion, she glanced at Cora. “I never–”

Elain did not get the chance to finish her statement, not as Eris waved his hand elegantly and a letter floated gently past her face. She snatched the paper from the air, her eyes scanning its contents with growing disbelief.

The Night Court’s wax seal was still intact and the letter was simply worded, respectful.

Lord Eris Vanserra, it is with great urgency that I write to you, so that I might request an audience with the High Lord of the Autumn Court…

Elain continued to skim what was clearly a plea for help. Cora moved closer to peek over Elain’s shoulder and she made a low sound of displeasure.

What surprised Elain the most was not what was written in the letter, but rather the elegant, looping scrawl, exactly like her own. Even the signed name, Lady Elain Archeron, was identical. Her lips parted slightly in surprise at the perfect forgery.

Before Elain could say anything, Eris spoke, a hidden warning in the tone of his voice. “I received your letter just in time, Lady, my father was growing tired of waiting for someone to notice Lucien’s absence.” His words were careful, so much so that Elain wondered if Eris was worried about someone listening in on their conversation. He offered her his arm once more, a flawless gentleman.

This time, Elain was quick to loop her arm through his, nodding in understanding. Briefly Elain wondered how Eris had managed to forge the letter so well, but she pushed those thoughts aside, vowing to bring it up again at a later time. The light blue fabric of her sleeve was an ugly contrast to the deep green colour of Eris’s velvet jacket. “I am glad, then,” Elain said softly, “that I sent my letter to you when I did.”

Elain saw as Eris’s shoulders dropped ever so slightly in relief, although he said nothing in response. The thick oak doors of the guest room opened silently, the long hallway beyond was menacing, shadows dancing as the torches flickered.

Elain took a deep breath to calm herself, her posture perfect, just like her mother had taught her a lifetime ago. Elain wondered if the steady heartbeat she could hear was her own or Lucien’s, now that distance no longer separated them.

Eris stepped forward, and Elain followed, Cora just a few steps behind. Elain was grateful for her strong and silent presence, but before all three of them could walk past the stone entrance of the room and into the hallway, Eris paused.

Auburn brow raised, he glared at Cora with flames in his eyes. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’ve come with the Lady, shouldn’t I stay by her side?” Cora snapped, her words sharp and lacking any of the respect one would have expected her to show a prince. Elain liked her instantly.

“It’ll only annoy my father,” Eris replied, glancing at Elain before he faced Cora once more.

Cora looked like a queen, Elain thought, her braid as good as any gold crown. “And leave the High Lady’s sister alone with you?” The last word was a snarl.

“You’re her lady’s maid, not her personal guard,” Eris responded, not taking his eyes off Cora. She continued to glare, and Eris smiled mockingly, daring her to argue.

Elain felt as though the tension between them could be cut with a knife, locked as they were in their silent battle of wills.

“Besides,” Eris drawled, “what use will you be against the wrath of a High Lord?”

A blush stained Cora’s brown cheeks, the fingers of her one hand curling into a fist. Elain wondered if she would have hit Eris, but she did not wait any longer to find out if that would have been the case.

“Thank you, Cora,” Elain interjected. “I’ll be fine.” Her words were confident, even though Elain herself was anything but.

Cora did not seem satisfied with the way the night seemed to be unfolding, but all she did was sigh in frustration. “Good luck, then,” she said quietly. “I’ll be here when Lucien is freed.”

Cora’s words were enough to spark an ember of hope within Elain, but as she walked arm-in-arm with Eris to the throne room, panic was beginning to send unwelcome shivers down her spine.

“Don’t be afraid,” Eris murmured, not looking at Elain. He continued to walk at an unhurried pace, the sound of his boots hitting the stone in a steady rhythm. The carved double-doors of the throne room towered just a few more steps ahead of them. “No harm will come to you, Elain, I swear it on my life.”

Elain did not know why she believed Eris’s words, but she tightened her grip on his arm, grateful. The doors opened, the hinges groaning with the weight of the wood, and the throne room was revealed, so unlike the one Rhysand and Feyre had in the Hewn City.

Beron Vanserra sat on a throne of ancient maple, leaves carved into the thick wood with a steady hand. Elain’s first thought was that he looked nothing like Lucien, but there was a ghost of Eris in the turned down corners of his full lips.

Elain fought not to shrink into herself, to keep her head high, at his assessing gaze. He was frightening, and Elain could almost feel his power within the space. Beron was the oldest High Lord, Feyre had warned her, and Elain wondered if that made him the most dangerous.

The Lady of Autumn was a striking figure in a gown the colour of fresh blood. Her throne was just as lovely as her husband’s, although it was smaller. Elain caught the way the lady straightened her back, how she brought herself forward to look at Eris. Her husband did not see the desperation in her eyes as she looked at her eldest son, but Elain recognized the emotion, had seen it before on countless women hoping for miracles.

Eris stopped right before the pair of rulers, dropping his hold on Elain’s arm. Elain elegantly curtsied, her face downturned, the movements practised, and she was grateful for the lessons she had suffered as a young girl. Elain was surprised momentarily as Eris bowed slightly at the waist beside her, the respectful gesture clearly deference to his High Lord and not the comfortable greeting of a parent.

“Lady Elain Archeron of the Night Court,” Beron’s voice was harsh like the slash of a knife. “You have requested this meeting, and while I am pleased by your arrival to my court, I can offer you very little of my time.”

Elain raised her head, smiling pleasantly. “High Lord, Lady” she greeted as her eyes flicked between them, “thank you for welcoming me to your lovely home.”

“You were most troubled in the letter we received,” Beron stated, raising a dark eyebrow as he silently asked her to make her case.

“I am troubled still,” Elain responded, trying her best to twist her words together just as faeries did. It came unnaturally to her, but her time in Velaris had allowed her to become familiar with the specific patterns of the High fae. “I’ve asked only for a moment of your time to make a most significant request.”

Beron’s answering smile was cruel, embers flared in his dark eyes. “Then make your request, child.”

It was intended to be an insult, Elain was sure, calling her a child. Elain was not bothered by it, and she looked straight at the ancient being before her, chin held high. “I have come to request that my mate, Lucien Vanserra, seventh son of Autumn, be allowed a safe return to the Night Court.”

Elain’s words rang clear in the near-empty throne room. The Lady of Autumn’s sharp breath was like the shattering of glass as they all waited for the High Lord’s response.

“The bond has not yet been accepted, everyone knows this.” Beron waved a hand dismissively. “You have no claim to him.”

“High Lord,” Elain began, and Eris reached for her elbow, tension in the set of his mouth. “We were to be married,” she continued, ignoring his silent warning.

“When?” Beron Vanserra questioned, casting a devastating glare in his eldest son’s direction. It was clear that the High Lord doubted Elain’s words.

Panic gripped Elain so suddenly she could barely breathe. “In two weeks' time, on the first day of Spring.” Elain hoped she sounded certain, confident. Eris looked ready to shove her behind him, his body angled in a way that suggested he was ready for a violent confrontation.

Beron’s lips curled into a vicious smile. “I believe you, Lady Elain, and take no offence, but I still must confirm the truth of your claims with my son.”

No sooner had the High Lord finished his sentence and the throne room’s doors opened with a groan. Elain couldn’t help but turn around, drawn to her mate.

You are mine.

The thought crashed through her mind like a wave against the shore, shocking and unwanted. Elain could finally sigh in relief, though, at seeing Lucien bruised and bloody, but knowing that he was relatively unharmed.

Lucien looked proud, arrogant, as he was shoved further into the throne room by a careless guard. He did not notice Elain at first, not until she tugged on the golden thread that tied them together. Beron watched them like a predator watched prey, hungry for a slip in their demeanour.

Elain’s brown eyes met Lucien’s, and all the fire he had possessed a moment before quickly went out. Like the first rays of the sun going over the horizon, horror dawned daybright on the lovely features of Lucien’s face.

Elain looked at Lucien, the smell of burning wood and dying leaves thick in the air, and she wondered if perhaps she had made a terrible mistake coming to the Autumn Court.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #elain archeron #eris vanserra #the lady of the autumn #lady of autumn #beron vanserra #lucien vanserra #this was a bit longer than i thought it would be #i love writing elain but lucien pov in the next part #ashes writes sometimes #all you have is your fire

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