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mika-no-sekai-blog · 5 months

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Word count: 1400+

Warnings: mentions of blood, depression, description of wound

In books there's no mention of Tamlin being able to winnow, but for the sake of story, let's pretend he can, okay?😉

Part II

You lived in a small cottage deep in the woods of Spring Court, far away from other fae. It wasn't like you hated them, they hated you. Most of the creatures living in this area avoided you, believing you had quite great powers and vicious nature, cursing anybody who crossed your way.

The rumours couldn't be further from the truth, but it didn't bother you what they said about you. You loved silence, enjoying every second of your lonely life in the heart of the nature.

You had several friends that used to stop by from time to time and brought you news, so you heard about everything that happened to your High Lord. You heard rumours about him going crazy, spending his days devastating his land in a form of horrific monster. You heard that fae ran away from this doomed Court. Last of your friends came to bid you farewell just few days ago trying to convince you to run away too. But why should you?

You lived alone, not caring about the outside world. You didn't care about what's happening out there, you didn't care about your High Lord nor the upcoming war. It had no meaning in your life. Feelings like hate, fear or love were just words with no particular meaning. And so the time passed slowly.

Fresh morning air brought smell of rain through the open window. Last night rained and the sound of raindrops on the roof of cottage lulled you to sleep. With bright smile you got up, changed and cleaned your room. Today it should be a nice sunny day. The intoxicating scent of flowers beckoned you out. Quickly you ran through your herb stocks and made a list of missing ones. You took small basket and went out to collect what you needed. Birds sang above your head as you bent down to tear off some chamomile flowers.

A roar thundered through the forest, making all birds fling away. You looked around with caution. Another roar shook the trees. And another. Now you knew where it was coming from. Quickly, but quietly you ran in that direction. It's in your nature to help to those who needed it. And this with no doubt sounded like somebody needed your help.

You ran up a hill ending in a cliff. And there down in a narrow valley on the other bank of small stream was lying the biggest beast you'd ever seen. Body of bear, head of wolf with antlers, his eyes were clenched in pain. On his side you could see deep wound, blood flowed in thin rivulets into the water. You didn't waste a second, climbed down and ran to its side. As you got closer, the beast opened its eyes and looked at you with a growl, showing off rows of sharp fangs. You halted and held up your hands.

"It's okay. You see? I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help you. Will you let me take a look?" you spoke to the beast in a soothing voice as you slowly step by step got closer. The beast growled again, but it put its head back on the ground. Green eyes never left yours, watching you with caution. Slowly you bent down. "Can I?" you gestured to the wound. It took few heartbeats, but the beast nodded slightly.

You knelt down between enormous paws, trying to ignore the dagger-like claws that could turn you into shreds of flesh in less than minute and examined the wound. It was so deep you could see its bones and even though it'd already begun to heal, it had to be treated. You bit down your lower lip. You needed to get the beast to your cottage, but it's too big and couldn't walk on its own in this state.

"It's quite deep. I need bandages and salve, but I don't have it all with me now. I'd need to go home. You are too big and heavy, so I can't take you with me.." you started to explain.

"Where?" a male's voice rasped.

"What?" you questioned, not sure if you really heard it.

The beast blinked. "Where?"the voice repeated with great effort. You lips parted in surprise.

"Well.. My cottage is about a kilometer to the north east from here."

"'Know the place," it breathed out. "Hold on to me."

You weren't so stupid to think, it's a real speaking beast. If nothing else, its eyes gave you enough hint. Of course, it's a high fae, a shape-shifter. And it seemed he could even winnow, so you did as he told you and took his paw with both of your hands. In a blink of an eye you were back in your cottage. Your head spun after the winnow, but you ignored it. Quickly you brought everything you could need and started to work on him. After few minutes the wound was bandaged and bleeding had stopped as well.

"I'm done," you announced. "It will take some time to completely heal. You can stay here until you will be able to move again." You wiped your hands clean while the beast just was laying, eyes narrowed, lost in his thoughts. He didn't seem to be in pain anymore. "Would you like something to drink?" you asked him gently, peeking on him.

His eyes concentrated on you once again, roaming around your face and then down your body. There was so much sadness in them. He just shook his head. "So I will let you take some rest," you nodded. "If you change your mind or it hurts you, tell me." The beast snorted and his eyes once again stared into the distance, returning to whatever he was thinking about before.

Several days passed since you found the wounded beast and brought him to your cottage. He didn't want to eat nor drink and that made you worry. He didn't speak, answering you only with small nods, his gaze was unfocused. He just lay on the floor where he winnowed to, like a lifeless object, stuffed animal. Even his wound was closing slower than it should.

You believed that everything had its time. If he wanted to talk about what bothered him, he would already say something. It wasn't your place to stick your nose into other's troubles. But still you were worried about him. You even heard him cry in his sleep last night.

Every day you checked on his wound, applied the salve and wrapped it into clean bandages and today wasn't different. Before, you let him be after tending the wound, but not today. He needed help and you were more than ready to offer your help even though he didn't ask for it.

You made him tea and set the bowl in front of him. It would be easier if he turned back into his normal form, but it couldn't be helped. Maybe he was too weak to do so. You sat down next to him and in silence ran your fingers through the fur on his shoulder. He sighed and closed eyes. You didn't talk, just continued to stroke his shoulder. After few minutes he dipped his tongue in the bowl and drank a bit. His sad green eyes turned to you, watching you carefully.

"You don't have to do this," he rasped.

"I know," you answered gently. He huffed. His eyes roamed around the room as if it was the first time he noticed.

"For vicious witch, you live quite peacefully. Silently I'd say." Now it's time for you to huff.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"Everyone runs from this doomed Court. Why don't you do so too? Aren't you scared of High Lord?" His voice sounded so empty, without any feelings.

"I don't care about what's happening out there," you answered evasively.

"Hmm," he hummed. "Did you hear about his fiancée and the best friend? They ran away from him too. He certainly must be a monster." He watched you out of the corner of his eye.

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I've never met him. I would prefer to make my own opinion on him."

"I see," he drank some more of the tea and then stayed silent. His eyes were again sad and unfocused and you didn't press him more. However you continued to caress his fur without thinking. Soon enough his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

He slept for the rest of the day. You checked on him before going to the bed, but he was still fast asleep curled up into a ball. That night he seemed to rest peacefully without any haunting dreams.

In the morning when you came down, he was gone.

#tamlin #tamlin x reader #tamlin x you #tamlin acotar #tamlin fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar #spring court #high lord tamlin #high lord of spring court #sarah j maas #tamlinweek #tamlin week #pro tamlin #tamlin angst

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thisblogisaboutabook · 6 days

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Spring Fever

Tamlin x Reader - Smut - Angst - Fluff

After an outburst directed toward an unwanted visitor, a resident of Tamlin’s manor prepares to face the consequences of her actions but the High Lord has something else in mind.

warnings: smut, language

Moonlight and night air filtered through the edges of the pastel velvet curtains as the beat of my racing heart overtook the silence of my bedchamber. Seated at the edge of the large four-poster bed in my now permanent room, I took steadying breaths. In. Hold. Out. Hold. Repeat.

Who was I to have shown anything less than reverence to the High Lord of the Night Court? To his credit - in his own fucked up way - he’d tried to help Tam out of the stupor he’d spent years in but the male had been through so much already. How could the face of the mate of the love of his life bring any peace to his already broken soul?

These visits always ruined what small progress Tamlin had made. I tried to remain calm but damn it - Tamlin had finally stopped curling up outside of my door at night, on alert for any hidden threats. He’d given me a genuine smile on a stroll through the gardens just this morning. He’d even cooked this evening. Yes, a simple meal of roast venison and root vegetables, but a meal nevertheless. He was making progress and as if he sensed it, Rhysand showed up to “check in” on Tamlin right after dinner.

And just like that, Tamlin’s demeanor crumpled. I couldn’t take it anymore, the irreverence toward my mate’s own trauma. My temper rose to a point of no return, pouring out as spewed vitriol very unbecoming of a lady in the manor of a High Lord.

To his credit, Rhysand only eyed me with intrigue and didn’t mist me on the spot after I suggested he take his “good intentions” and shove them up his ass and showed him the door.

Tamlin only eyed me with an unreadable expression and requested that I stay behind while he escorted the Night Court’s High Lord from the estate.

Deciding against pressing my luck further I exited the foyer and saw myself to my chambers where I now sat waiting for the inevitable lecture, hell, maybe he’d kick me out. I only lived here out of his generosity. His tolerance of me certainly spurred on by the unaccepted mating bond that snapped when the magic chose me on Calanmai.

Two lonely souls bound together by fate.

We’d spent the past ten months living in companionable silence, both healing from the wounds our souls bore. And now, I’d likely torn down the careful progress we’d built brick-by-brick in one fell swoop.

The creak of my door withdrew me from my self-loathing retrospection and the quiet thud of boots crossing the wooden floors grew louder with each step in my direction. I didn’t look up. Couldn’t face him. Didn’t need to as the tension between us laid it all out clearly.

He’d never laid an ill-intentioned hand on me, we rarely even touched. Calanmai was a one-time thing. We’d brushed hands a time or two at the dinner table, he’d caught me as I stumbled in the garden once. I almost - almost - flinched as my High Lord’s hand came into my peripheral but all I was met with was a broad, gentle palm to the nape of my neck and the soft caress of a thumb running along my jaw line. I looked to him with furrowed brows, eyes lining with silver as I awaited whatever came next, but all I was met with were deep green eyes filled with anything but rage.

I averted my gaze as he fell to a knee in front of me. “Look at me, dove.” his typically gruff voice softer than I’d ever heard.

He waited patiently before I turned my head to look upon him once more. His eyes bore into mine, searing right into the depths of my soul. I could feel my heart hammering as his breaths grew rapid.

“You-“ he spoke, one large hand remained caressing my jaw as the other covered my own hands, folded in my lap. “You defended me.”

I puzzled. Was that a shock to him?

His emerald gaze flicked back and forth while remaining locked on my face, searching for an answer to an unspoken question. Why?

Withdrawing one of my hands from his grasp and resting it delicately upon his muscled chest, I replied definitively, “Because you’re mine.”

His breathing paused, rose lips pressing into a firm line. Processing. The silence between us pressing into me like a blade.

His voice cracked with his next words. “You want me?”

“I have since your eyes found mine on fire night.”

Before I could shift, or speak further, his lips were crashing into me like the violent swell of a storm falling upon rocky shores.

My lips gaped, breath hitching at his response, the desire I’d shoved deep within me pouring out at once as I opened for him, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, dancing along mine. A small, involuntary whimper escaped me as he lifted off of his knee, leaning over me as I slid back deeper onto the bed, careful not to let my lips leave his for even a moment - eliciting a groan from Tamlin.

My finger tangled into his long, blonde hair as he braced his weight over me with one arm, his other holding my hip, thumb running over the silk of my cherry blossom dress.

“You’re mine.” I rasped out in a hushed murmur between our shared breaths, pulling away just enough to look into the eyes of my mate again.

My chest heaved, breasts rising and falling with each gasp. I managed another whisper, “You’re mine, Tam.”

With those words, he lost any semblance of control. His fingers tugged my hair, exposing the column of my neck to him. His soft lips pressed heated kisses along my jawline, down to my neck, giving little nips and licks over the corresponding hurt as he went. “You’re mine.” He growled back, possessiveness overtaking his tone.

All I could manage was an “mmhmm” as he pulled the neckline of my dress down, exposing my breasts to him, his lips latched onto a peaked nipple and gods - the mouth on this male. As he licked and sucked on my breasts, jolts of electricity shot through me, straight to my core. I needed him lower and he knew it. His claws unsheathed, shredding through my dress and undergarments. I shivered as his stubble grazed my abdomen with each kiss tracking lower and lower. So close to where I needed him. My legs fell open in invitation, displaying the dripping need he elicited from me. His pupils blew wide as he took in the sight before him, realization of just how desperately I wanted him activating the most primal facets of the mating bond.

He pulled back, eyes boring into mine once more. “Say it, Y/N.”

My heart nearly shattered at the pleading expression of his features. This was real. My desire for him so tangible that he need only run a finger up my center to remind himself. But this was deeper than that, deeper than just want, deeper than mere lust.

“Tamlin.” I whispered.

“I’m yours. All of me.”

And I could have sworn the slightest hint of silver lined my mate’s thick lashes as he let loose that final reign of restraint.

His mouth latched onto my clit. A male starved. Starved for affection, starved for intimacy, starved for understanding, for love. But I saw him, all of him - and I wasn’t afraid.

His tongue laved against my core, moving with expert precision as he teased my most sensitive nerves, swirling around my clit before lowering to my entrance. He groaned like my essence was the sweetest nectar of any flora in his court and I couldn’t hold back the moans and praises spilling from my lips.

A thick finger plunged into me, curling so deliciously as he sucked my throbbing clit. He’d send me over the edge in no time. “Please.” I begged as the imminent release had me on the edge of a precipice.

I whimpered as he pulled back, the sharp angles of his chin and plush lips shining with the coat of my arousal. I could have come just from that sight alone. His deep voice sending chills through me as he commanded, “Say it, one more time baby. One more time, and then let go for me.”

His mouth returned to my core, latching back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves as two fingers now curled inside of me, his other hand tweaking a rosey nipple, “I’m yours. I’m yours. Oh gods, Tam. I’m only yours.” I chanted as release barreled through me. My sex pulsing around his fingers. His hips bucking into the bed in time with my orgasm, desperate for friction.

And I was greedy.

“Tamlin.” I spoke through heated breaths. “I need more.”

With a flick of his wrist, his clothes were gone. My jaw dropped when he rose to his knees before me, his erect length already beading with precum.

I licked my lips, raising myself to admire as he gave a few pumps to his heavy, aching cock. My mouth watering with the need to taste him.

He splayed a hand between my breasts, pushing me back into the mattress. “Time for that later. Need my baby coming on my cock.”

“Oh gods.” I moaned at the words, my core was an inferno with them at the realization that my mate needed to be in me just as badly as I needed to be filled by him.

And fill me he did. His head easily slid through my slick folds and I knew that length, and fuck, that girth, would hurt in the most pleasurable of ways.

“All of you.” I whimpered. “I need all of you. Now.”

With that he scooped me up, spreading my legs to straddle his hips. He braced his weight on his arms behind him, his muscles flexing with the shift, and crossing his legs, spreading my legs further across him.

“Take what you want.” He commanded.

And I realized then that he wanted me to set the pace, that he’d never risk hurting me. Especially since it had been so long since we’d been together.

I aligned his length to my entrance, locking my gaze onto him, admiring the planes of his gorgeous face before meeting the sea of emerald taking in each micro-expression of my own face.

“Yours.” I spoke boldly, and sank down each thick inch of his cock until I was seated to the hilt. The pleasure quickly overtaking any semblance of pain.

Chills spread through me at the loud growl of satisfaction he let out at the sensation of my cunt gripping all of him. I remained pressed down, gently swiveling my hips to adjust to his size, and pressing a hand to the slight bulge his length created in my belly.

“Fuck.” I whimpered. “You’re so- oh - you feel so…” my brain couldn’t formulate any words beyond that as another gasp escaped my lips as I rose up slowly and sank back down again, moaning in pleasure with each stroke of his length within me.

My arms wrapped around his shoulders as he shifted up, easing the weight off his arms and taking over, lifting my hips and sheathing me back down his cock, over and over, harder and harder, my heavy breasts bouncing in time with the pace. The sounds of my wetness gushing with each thrust was obscene. Removing one hand from my hip, he slid it between us and pressed his thumb to my clit. Within seconds I fell over the edge again, my face falling to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, incoherent babbles pouring from me, muffled by his neck.

“Gods” thrust. “You’re” thrust. “Divine.” He thrust my still fluttering pussy down onto him once more and let out a loud groan as he found his release, the pulsing of his cock as he spilled into me threatened to push me over the edge once more.

Our breathing evened out as he remained sheathed within me. I kept my face buried into his neck, refusing to let this moment of bliss end. My mate had yet to loosen his grasp on me, so we stayed like that, reveling in the feel of skin on skin for some time.

Finally I rose off of him, though he was hesitant to loosen his grip. “Stay with me tonight?” I asked hesitantly. Afraid he’d once again retreat to his chambers or to the hallway outside of my door.

Tamlin laid down pulling me onto his chest, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Every night.” He spoke into my hair.

“Every night.” I hummed in agreement.

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General ACOTAR list: @lilah-asteria

@tamlinweek - tagging you for Day 3 “mates” but not sure if it counts since I posted this on Sunday. This is my first of any “weeks” I’ve participated in 🥰

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tadpolesonalgae · 5 days

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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

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wishfulimaginings · 19 days

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Dain vs Tamlin

Please don't compare Dain to Tamtam.

Dain is a 22 year old kiddo who trusted his father and told on a fellow student he believed was out to kill the woman he liked/ his childhood bff. He was trying to get Xaden detention not cause a death.

TAMLIN on the other hand knew nothing good would come from him betraying his "friend" Rhys. He consciously betrayed a person he called a friend to gain his father's favour. He gave him the location of two unarmed females who were important to the "enemy" court. What did he think was going to happen?!

Point being Dain and Tamlin are not the same. If Dain had all the information he would have chosen differently.

I will die on this hill.

#acotar #Fourth Wing #the empyrean #tamlin #dain aetos #xaden riorson #high lord rhysand #Rhysand #sjm #fourth wing #Rebecca Yarros #spring court #night court #basgiath war college

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theladyofbloodshed · 8 months

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Does Feyre ever question where Rhys gets his obscene wealth from? He has an entire room of tiaras and crowns, but has she never felt guilty that he hoards so much money when the Spring tithe angered her deeply?

A salary is paid to his inner circle, they have lines of credits in stores, but they all live in his house and eat his food - what's he paying them with? How can such a massive salary be justified when it's not used or recycled back into Velaris?

The economy makes no sense and the fact Feyre never actually realises that Velaris' citizens paying taxes is the same damn thing as a once a year tithe really cements the fact that she knows shit about being a high lady

#amren even tells her that city dwellers pay a tax #and whilst a tithe usually has religions connotations #in acotar it's used for the benefit of the spring court and its high lord

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armins-main-hoe · 30 days

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Purple Petals of Velaris

Ever wonder what it would be like if Rhysand had another younger sister, one who had not even been able to fly the day his mother and sister got killed? A baby who got spared by Tamlin who could not find it in himself to kill a such a young soul who looked up at him and gave him a toothless smile. So before his father and brothers could find the youngest child of the night, he hid her away, giving her a sweet flower to suckle on so she's keep quiet, walking over to his brothers and father, trying to avoid stepping in the pool of blood on the floor, saying that their job is done.

His father took the heads of the two women, putting them into a box which were then sent down a river towards the nearest camp while cutting their illryian wings off to keep as a trophy. However, one of Tamlin's brothers remembered that there was a third child of the night court. They began asking Tamlin where that child would be, to which Tamlin faked his lack of knowledge. However, before they could go and search, they picked up on distant shouts coming from the illyrian camp a few miles away.

The high lord of the Spring court saw no desperate need to kill a baby, much less a female baby who doesn't hold that strong of a threat to his power over the urgency to leave the night court before they are found. So he left. When Illryian soldiers flew along the river they saw no signs of the bastards who sent them the heads of their high lord's lady and child. Nothing apart from the remains of their bodies and the blood soaked snow.

Rhysand did not know what to feel yet he felt so much at the same time when he was told of the murder. His father was in an even worse state. Did not help that no one knew what happened to the baby. So when his father came to him, telling him of his plan to kill Tamlin's family. Rhysand did little to think twice and joined him.

Only to come back as the new high lord of the night court.

He had winnowed into his room, his chest heaving. He did not get even a wink of sleep that night. His mind was far to busy going on with what happened over the course of a few hours to even think of laying down on his bed. As the sun began to rise, he sat on the rooftop of his home. The home he now owned. There was this anxiety sitting right on top of his chest that he couldn't get rid of no matter how much he drank.

He was lucky that only Cassian and Azriel were the ones to see him in such a state first. The night court right now was vulnerable since Rhysand had yet to prove to everyone that he was a worthy high lord. If anyone, especially the spies of the other courts that would always be there, saw him like this right now, Cassian only shuddered at the thought.

So Cassian walked his friend downstairs to either sleep off the alcohol or wait it out. Anything just not out in the open. Azriel followed close behind, holding a bundle of a blanket in his hands.

Rhysand woke the next afternoon with probably the worst hangover he had ever experienced. Though his two friends had stayed with him the night and were there when he woke up, helping him ease off his headache.

"Rhys, about you're sister-" Azriel started but Rhysand cut him off.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Cassian stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The baby Rhys, he's talking about the baby."

Rhysand looked at him then at Azriel. No one knew where his baby sister was after the murder that yesterday. His father had sent out soldiers of all sorts to find her but no one could. When Rhysand went to the Spring Court last night, he had killed Tamlin's brothers but also had been looking for his baby sister, to see if they had taken her. However, she was nowhere to be seen or scented.

Azriel started again. "We found her last night-"

Rhysand's eyes widened, his body tensed as he quickly walked over to Azriel. "Is she... She's not..?"

"Alive. Rhys, she is alive. She's in her room right now." Cassian told him.

He did not waste a second longer to winnow to the child's room. He opened the door, immediately looking over the cot. He let out a breath he hadn't even realised he was holding when he saw her, playing with purple petals of a flower in her small hands.

"Oh, mother.." He fell to his knees, his hands on the edge of the cot as he sobbed. He had been so sure that he had lost all of his family. All within the span of a few hours but there she was. The most vulnerable of his family, the youngest and weakest, she had survived to stay with him. He isn't alone. He'd never be alone.

He would never lose her. Not in the way he lost his mother and sister, not in any way. He'd never let it happen.

He heard her squeal and coo over his tears. Wiping his wet cheeks, he stood back up. Looking at her again before picking her up. She babbles and reaches out to touch his face, the petals that were in her hands fell to the floor. Putting his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes as more tears fell. The baby simply put her little hands on his face, fingers feeling his stubble, brows furrowing at the feeling. She doesn't know what happened, too young to realise her entire family is gone. Too young to realise she only has her older brother left to rely on.

But that does not matter. He swears to keep her safe. He'll raise her. He'll protect her. He'll do it at any cost, but she can not leave him. She can't leave him in this cruel world alone.

Should I turn this into a fic?

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #rhys acotar #high lord rhysand #cassian #acosf #azriel #rhysand's sister #new fic #night court #spring court #tamlin #tamlin acotar

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bombitart · 4 months

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Tamlin High Fae and High Lord of the Spring Court from “A Court of Thorns and Roses” by Sarah J. Maas.

#romance #romance books #book art #book cover #young adult #tamlin #tamlin acotar #high lord tamlin #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of wings and ruin #feyre archeron #spring court #fairy

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taymartiart · 4 days

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Day 2 of @tamlinweek

Warrior

#Tamlin #maasverse #acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #high lord of the spring court #spring court #SJM

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loneliestluvr · 23 days

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i long for the spring court I SAID IT IM SORRY—

UGH IDK CAUSE I LOVE CASSIAN SO MUCH BUT THE SPRING COURT HONESTLY JUST— as long as lucien is there it’ll be okay. tamlin is like my twin so as hot as he probably is, it would just look like we were siblings.

like… uhhhh yes??? i would thrive. books, sunshine, fresh air, sunbathing, swimming in pools of starlight, good food, lucien vanserra <33 yeah, im down.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #tamlin #high lord tamlin #spring court #prythian #lucien vanserra #its mostly just for lucien #so maybe the day court instead #please catch me a fish vandaddy #lucien vandaddy

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teddyhoneybear · 23 hours

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| 𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓶𝓪𝓲

#acotar #calanmai #the great rite #fire night #feyre archeron #a court of thorns and roses #moodboard #acotar moodboard #high lord of spring #high lord tamlin #high lord #tamlin week #tamlin week 2024 #tumblr ruined the quality #lucien vanserra #pro tamlin

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 5 months

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Word count: 2400+

Warnings: language, mentions of trauma

I noticed that most of you aren't Tamlin's fans, but give him a chance😉

Part I | Part III

One day you woke up into gloomy morning, heavy rain drumming on the leaves behind the windows. You couldn't go out, so you cuddled down with a blanket into your favourite armchair in front of the fireplace with cracking wood in it. Slowly sipping fragrant tea you dived into a book laid on your lap.

After the beast was gone your life returned to its normal. You spent your days taking walks in the forest, picking up herbs, fishing and collecting berries and mushrooms to eat. You still thought about the beast, of course you did, but after all it was his decision to leave. All you could do was hope that there's somebody who would check on his wound, making sure it healed properly.

Suddenly front door burst open harshly and the beast broke in. He was soaked, water dripping on the floor. But the sudden invasion wasn't what scared you the most. It was the beast's expression. He looked so wild, so dangerous, so angry, the rows of sharp fangs bared, his angry eyes sizing you. Huge body filled small space of cottage, sucking out all the air.

Your fingers clenching tighter around the mug, was the only sign of fear you allowed yourself. Maybe after all, they were right saying the High Lord went crazy. There's no other explanation to this. You looked straight into the green eyes with gold flecks waiting, leaving the first move to him.

He growled, the sound full of rage and pain shook the walls. He began to pad around, the dagger-like claws had left scratches on the wooden floor. You were watching him with bated breath.

After few minutes he came to you, sitting down he pressed his wolf's head to your knees and exhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't know where else to go."

"It's okay," you breathed out swallowing hard. You could still feel his rage seeping from his body.

"And I'm sorry for the door. I'll repair it." You looked to the remains of what used to be the front door. The spicy smell of magic filled the air and the debris disappeared immediately replaced by new door.

"Thank you," you whispered still clenching the mug. Even thought he seemed to be calmer now, you could sense bad mood hadn't left him yet. Your eyes fell to the side where he had been wounded. "I see you healed."

"Yes, all thanks to you and that tea you gave me." He didn't offer any explanation of why he disappeared without a word, so you wouldn't ask more about it. You sat silently in that strange position for a while, not sure which topic was safe to take out.

"Is.. everything alright?" you tried your luck, hoping he wouldn't bite your head off.

"No," he answered simply and you could sense new surge of anger building in him. "She looked so satisfied..so happy next to that bastard. As if she was laughing right in my face and saying: he fucks me better than you. He even made me his.." He abruptly halted, probably thinking he said too much.

But you already knew who he really was. You suspected it before and today his words just made you sure of it. You swallowed hard. There wasn't much you could say to that without revealing you knew his true identity. So you decided it's better to remain silent.

The beast exhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "Would you mind if we stay like this for a while?" he asked, voice full of pain and resignation.

"No, I don't mind it," you offered small smile. And so you sat there in silence with beast's head rested on your legs. The fire in the hearth crackled, raindrops drummed on windows and roof and the wind blew through the treetops.

Lost in your thoughts you watched beast's slowly drying fur while sipping your tea. Reaching out your fingers gently ran over the soft fur. The beast tensed under your touch and holding breathe cracked his eyes open. Only then you realized what you had done.

"I'm so sorry," you quickly untangled fingers from fur. "I didn't mean.."

"It's okay," he interrupted you. "I.. like..it.."

It's so surprising, you weren't sure what to do. Was it permission to continue? Hesitantly you touched him, gently scratching soft fur between the antlers. He purred lowly and shut eyes closed. Heat consumed your cheeks. Treating High Lord as some pet. How rude. You couldn't believe your own audacity. Thankfully nobody else saw that. Your fingers slid down behind his ear.

Shiver ran down his spine and startled he sat up, breaking off contact. His unusual green eyes locked with yours. Some strange energy surged between you and then he blinked and it was gone.

Turning his gaze to the fire, he cleared his throat. "Don't you...have more of the tea? It smells nice."

"Oh, sure," you babbled, accepting the way out he'd offered you so generously.

While you were pouring tea to the bowl, you could feel his intensive gaze. He didn't stop even when you returned back and offered him the tea.

"Thank you," he mumbled. Both of you sat and drank your teas, silence was stretching. When it was clear he didn't want to talk anymore, you picked up your book, found where you left off and started to read.

It was almost dinner time. The beast was lying in front of the fireplace fast asleep. His gentle snoring and unceasing rain were the only sounds in the darkening room. You put the book aside. Lighting candles along the way you stalked to the kitchen to prepare something to eat.

The beast didn't make even slightest move, but you knew he's awake. When food was on the table you hesitantly stepped to his side and touched his shoulder. He looked up at you.

"Come and eat something," you invited him. Obediently he followed you to table and sat down across from you. Sitting on the floor he was still taller than you. Looking down on you he watched as you took first bite. Only then he started to eat too. He finished in no time and liking his muzzle looked at plates on the table.

"Would you like some more?" you asked him.

He stiffened slowly looking up at you. "No, I'm fine." Lie. You could not only see, but also hear his hunger. You smirked, took his plate and put another portion of food on it.

"Don't be shy to tell you are hungry." He hesitantly nodded and started to eat.

When you finished, you began to clean table and dishes while he watched you with interest. "I wonder why you don't use your magic. It could be done in no time."

"I have no powers," you snorted amused.

"But you do have some," he insisted. "I can feel it. Especially when you make tea, medicines or cook."

"You must be wrong," you tried to laugh it off nervously. "I don't—can't.."

"Believe me. I can sense quite great power from you. Even now. It's suppressed, but it's there. You're on the same level as any High Fae."

"Can we just stop talking about it?" you asked him. You felt uneasy. Any mention of your magic made you feel so since you could remember. You didn't know why, anything that happened before you started to live in this cottage, was blurred. You didn't know where you came from, who you were or who your parents were. You only knew you didn't want to find out. All this magic talk made you feel nauseous. "I'm going to take some logs for fire," you announced, needing to get out of there. You didn't wait for his reaction. You needed fresh chilly air immediately.

His eyes narrowed as you rushed out into the dark. He noticed your pale face, but decided not to mention this topic anymore. Obviously there was something about it that bothered you. You didn't push him about his inner wounds, you didn't demand any explanations and he would do the same.

You didn't know how long you were sitting under the tree in the dark cold forest pressing your hands to ears, rocking back and forth. Screaming female's voice echoed in your mind. No doubt it was something you witnessed in the past, some lost memory, but you didn't want to know what it meant. You only wanted it to stop.

When you finally regained your usual composure, you took few logs and returned to cottage. The beast was again lying in front of the hearth. He looked up at you. "Everything okay?"

"Perfectly fine," you put logs away and sat down to your armchair. Suddenly realising how cold you were, you pulled up the blanket. The beast watched as you settled into the armchair and then put his head on the paws. The rest of the night you two spent in silence.

Three days passed since that day. You lived just as before. Only one thing changed - you weren't alone anymore.

The first day the beast stayed inside while you went on your regular walk, picking up herbs, mushrooms and berries, and fishing. He was probably bored all alone, because next day he joined you and went out with you. He was rather quiet companion, mostly just looking out for you while basking in the sun or helping you to carry the basket.

He was often lost in thoughts. Something bothered him, but he wouldn't say a single word. You didn't ask about it either. You just made sure he knew you were there if he needed.

Today wasn't different. You were sitting on the bank of small lake fishing while the beast was lying on large rock nearby, watching you out of habit.

"Don't you hunt?" he asked you suddenly.

You shook head. "I don't. I couldn't possibly kill an animal. I feel sick to even think about hurting small mouse."

He made a sound that remotely resembled the laughter. "You are really a vicious witch."

You frowned at him. "There's nothing wrong with it."

"No, it isn't," he agreed, his voice playful. It was the first time he had such good mood since you met him. For some reason it warmed your heart and you smiled too. "Have you ever eaten meat except of fish?"

"To be honest I don't know. I don't remember my life before I came to this forest," you admitted.

"Why?" he asked carefully.

"I don't know," you shrugged.

"Did you try to remember or search for someone to help you?"

You bit on your lower lip and shook your head. "I feel that it's better not to know."

"I see," he turned back to the lake, putting this conversation to the end. He wanted to know more, but it seemed to be dangerous topic. You were already pale enough.

For the rest of the day he stayed silent seemingly thinking about something. His good mood disappeared which was a pity. You quite liked that change and his teasing.

After the dinner he sat down in front of you, resolution in his green eyes.

"There's—there's something I should tell you.."

You patiently waited for his next words, giving him an encouraging smile.

"I..I'm not beast," he breathed out, watching you carefully, waiting for your reaction.

"I know. You have human eyes," you said calmly and took a sip of tea.

"You are really special," his mouth widened into something similar to the smile, but more wild, eyes shined brightly.

He looked at you, jaw tightening. "There is more.."

He inhaled deeply, those gleaming green eyes never leaving yours. His features started to change. You just sat there and watched. It took mere seconds, a flash of light and there was a young male kneeling in front of you only in ragged brown breeches. His golden hair were long, tangled and as dirty as the rest of his muscular body. Big silver scar on his ribs was the only proof he was the injured beast you saved.

On the first look he was High Fae, there's no doubt about it. His magic was so powerful your insides shivered. You couldn't take eyes off of him, lips slightly parted. Even under the layers of dirt he was still attractive. You'd already seen all kinds of fae males, but no one like him. Nobody was so handsome, so graceful. Nobody made your heart jump to your throat. You realized you were staring at him. Ashamed you looked down on your hands.

He nervously cleared his throat. "I'm.. Tamlin.." No titles. Okay, you could play along.

"Ehm, nice to meet you," you mumbled.

"I'm sorry for my messy appearance. It's quite some time since I.. you know.. I've spent several days in my animal form.."

"It's okay," you shyly took another sip of tea, so you didn't have to look at his broad chest.

He shakily inhaled. "Listen.. I know this is sudden, but.. the war is approaching. I had a peaceful time here to think things over, which I'm really grateful for.. but you have to go.. flee to another Court or maybe even to continent. This place won't be safe. If Prythian looses, this Court will be destroyed as first.."

Tamlin wanted to continue, but you stopped him. All feelings aside you found your balance once again and he could see why other Fae had avoided you. You were empty.

"I will not go anywhere," you stated coldly.

"It wasn't request," he matched your tone, anger building up in his voice, sharp claws slid out.

"You have no right to command me around. It's up to me if I want to leave or no." You spoke calmly, it wasn't in your nature to shout at others.

"Actually I.." Tamlin halted, biting down on his lower lip. "Do as you wish, you stubborn little thing. I warned you," he growled, stood up swiftly and without another word left.

You remained seated in your armchair grasping mug in your fingers. You understood his concern, but high lord or no he had no right to order you to leave your cottage, the only home you had ever known. This was your comfort zone and you couldn't even imagine life behind the borders of this forest.

You closed your eyes trying to calm down. You almost started to like him and his silent company. You didn't want to be angry at him. You didn't want to feel anything at all. Feelings were just troubles and troubles hadn't place in your life. And so you pushed and pushed until all of the feelings disappeared and you again felt yourself.

#tamlin x you #tamlin x reader #tamlin acotar #tamlin week #tamlin #acotar fanfiction #acotar #sarah j maas #high lord of spring court #spring court #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin fanart #tamlin angst

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lorcandidlucienwill · 6 months

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"But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her." "She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.” Elain had come into the house, her right palm bleeding from several gashes thanks to a stubborn rosebush that had pierced her gloves.

I think it's interesting that Elain is constantly associated with roses/Spring Court. Tamlain shippers use this as justification for their theory rather than Elucien, but I have a different one:

I think 100% Lucien is going to be spending some time at the Day Court to discover his heritage, but the Day Court already has a ruler, we can't move around that (unless Helion is killed off). And Lucien also says this: And I’m willing to bet I’m no longer welcome at h—the Spring Court.” Home, he had almost said. “ He thinks of the Spring Court as his home. And this describes Tamlin: It seemed like a cold, lonely position to have, especially when you didn’t particularly want it. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much. Tamlin said this: “I claimed Lucien as my own—named him emissary, since he’d already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people, while I … can find it difficult. He’s been here ever since.” Because Tamlin hadn't been prepared to become High Lord, he relied a lot on Lucien to whom High Lord shit came easy. And of course, this: “I’d say that sounds more High-Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son.” A long, steely look. “Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?” One thing is almost certain in my mind: Lucien will be becoming a High Lord in his book. But while most people are certain he'll end up in Day, I'm not. The Spring Court is the court that's the most in shambles, the one that would benefit the most from a guy like Lucien. Secondly, this is not a hit on Tamlin fans, but Sarah has explicitly said that she hates Tamlin, so unfortunately for you guys I don't think he will be getting a redemption arc. I'm not sure if SJM will kill off Tamlin or make him abdicate and roam around in beast form forever, but either way I'm almost certain Tamlin is the one who will get replaced. Sarah likes Helion so I don't think she will kill him off. I'm not certain of this though, Sarah hates creating healthy father-son relationships. Also, Lucien is in a unique position because he possesses abilities characteristic both of an Autumn Court ruler and a Day Court ruler; I think this unique mix would mean it makes more sense for him to rule over neither court and rather the Spring Court. And of course, Elain would be his High Lady :))) Would not mind him ending up in Day at all, though. He looks hot in Day Court robes.

#pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra #pro elucien #elucien #spring court #day court #helion spell cleaver #tamlin analysis #tamlin #lucien spell cleaver #high lord lucien #pro elain archeron #high lady of spring

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thehighlordofspring · 14 days

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💔

f*cked up kissing asks | a kiss which will be forgotten

Moonlight streamed through the open window, bidding Tamlin’s eyes to a reluctant waking. It wasn’t day, but it certainly wasn’t night. It was witching hour, when all the creatures rose for their second stir — including him. He’d never slept through the night. Not in five hundred years. Yet, he did not want this one to end. A part of him could not bear to open his eyes for the fear of seeing Feyre draped across the bed, half naked and completely his.

He covered them with his palm. He could feel her stirring by his side. She needed sleep. There was a long battle ahead of them. Hopefully, his plan would work and she would escape safely across the border before the evils of Pyrthian could touch her anymore than they already had.

Tamlin wanted Feyre to be safe. If it was the last thing he ever did — he wanted to know that her life could go on in her own realm with only the memory of him to grace her.

Unless — she truly loved him. Is that even possible? He wondered.

His heart ached in his chest. Tamlin lowered his hand from his face as his heart began to pulse rapidly in his chest. He couldn’t panic. This was not the time to panic. This was not the time to look back.

He took in two deep breaths, struggling to ground himself inside what he knew had to happen. This was goodbye.

This is goodbye.

Feyre reached across the mattress as she heard him struggling to breathe. The High Lord forced himself to be quiet, but relinquished to the soft touch of her fingers tracing his upper arms.

Hands off…Tamlin had agreed, yet he’d still fallen asleep in her arms. They tempted him again. With a heavy sigh, he rolled over into the sheets and wrapped his strong arms around her lithe shoulders. She relaxed against him, with a soft sigh.

Oh, Feyre. Tamlin pressed his face into the bare crook of her neck, leaving soft kisses over the subtle bite marks from before. He’d marked her body the same way she’d marked his soul. How am I ever going to do this without you?

She was his mate. His heart, his mind, his body — all pulled him to stay in this bed. Yet, Tamlin knew that if he did not get up…he would be the cause of her death.

He pulled back slowly, painfully.

Feyre protested in her sleep, clinging to his arm. Her nails left a mark. “High…lord.” She murmured. “Don’t go…I lov…”

Tamlin backed away. The last word. It made the room begin to glow, but her sleep again darkened it. A conundrum of feelings stormed across his face and he tore himself away from the bed, angrily swiping away hot tears that dared to fall from his eyes.

He walked towards the bedroom door, leaving behind what could have been his perfect future.

For her good. He told himself.

He didn’t mean to do it.

He shouldn’t have.

Tamlin looked back over his shoulder. Feyre breathed evenly, a soft smile on her features.

He walked quickly back towards her, pushing her hair behind her face, and delicately pressing his lips against her forehead. “Goodbye, Feyre. I love you. You are the beating heart of the spring court.”

Tamlin stood up and forced himself to leave the room, ignoring the way his entire body was shaking. This was it. He had made his choice. Some kisses were meant to be forgotten.

#ask & answer #story prompts #the high lord remembers #the beating heart of the spring court #person: feyre

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