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a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire · 4 months

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Ive complained about acotar's weird plot structure before and I was gonna talk about how I would fix it as well, but then I forgot so Im talking about how I would fix it now

Just get rid of Amarantha, Rhysand's the villain now. He gets her Woman Scorned motivation of being rejected by Tamlin but hes still the high lord of the night court and instead of him ruling over all of Prythian, he basically just torments Tamlin and hes got the spring court locked down with magic so no one can come in or out for help. One idea that I like is that instead of the mask curse, everyone is cursed to just cant stand being near Tamlin, like he comes into a room that a few servants are cleaning and they immediately feel compelled to leave without another word. Idk, the idea is that Rhysands trying to break him through isolation while convincing him that hes unlovable so he'll come crawling right back to him. And then theres obviously still that caveat of 'the curse gets broken if you can find a human whos killed a fae with hate in her heart and get her to fall in love with you, but until then everything stays as is'

From then on, things mostly happen as they do in the book with Tamlin and Feyre bonding except Lucien's not there because of that curse. Or, actually you could still have him around since Feyre wouldnt be affected by the curse, just not anywhere near Tamlin. Oh, I really like the idea of Lucien very begrudgingly coming up to this human girl he dislikes so that he can be like "hey, can you please tell Tamlin that we're still friends and that I still love him even though I cant speak to him" thatd be sweet

(uhhhhhh this got way longer than anticipated, have a readmore)

I think if you still want Rhys to be like, the hot and sexy badboy alternative love interest you could have him corner Feyre whenever shes alone and try to seduce her in order make absolutely 100% sure she never breaks that curse. But its not working, she just keeps bonding with Tamlin and he notices that shes getting more and more comfortable with him and seems to be slowly falling in love with him and hes getting nervous, because Rhysand is absolutely not above just coming in and hurting her in order to torment him some more so he sends her away, again, like in the book

Then Feyre comes back and maybe she finds that the spring court is now shrowded in eternal night for 💫Atmosphere💫 and Tamlin has submitted to Rhysand. But hes still not quite satisfied because Tamlin basically begged him not to hurt Feyre because he loves her, and Rhysand just needs him to say that he doesnt love her after all. And Feyre comes in and demands that her high lord be set free and Rhysand issues the same three trials as Amarantha, I dont think he should give her the riddle because idk, i always thought it was really weird and stupid to have these trials AND a riddle, just pick one. And Im picking the trials because Rhysand is a sadistic mf. I dont think the trials should happen over the course of three months though, I think they should happen over the course of three days with one trial a day, because Rhysand is very confident that Feyre will just die and hes getting a little impatient, like he just wants to have his Tamlin already yknow

And then she completes the trials, Rhysand has to release them and thats the end of the story. I think this would work best as a standalone, but if you still wanted to make it a trilogy and you still wanted to have the Feysand bargain, maybe Feyre could completely break down during that last trial where she has to kill those innocent fae because shes bonded with them so much (in this version she would get to know more of the household than just Alis and Lucien) and she cant bring herself to do it and Rhysand is all smug like "do you give up?" but then Feyre pulls herself together and goes to stab the first one, and he realizes that she might actually do it for Tamlin's sake and that all of his plans are about to be ruined, so hes basically like "okay, you know what, Ive changed my mind, I'll lift the curse and I'll leave you and Tamlin be, but you'll have to agree to this bargain with me where you have to stay at my court for two weeks every months" the idea is basically that if he cant have Tamlin's love, hes gonna take Tamlin's beloved, and Feyre agrees

Idrk how the next book could play out from that point. I have this image in my head of like. okay so, one of my favorite obscure dark romance dynamics is ancient evil vampire/newly turned evil vampire/kind-hearted innocent human guy, bonus points if the newly turned vampire and the innocent human guy were in a perfectly normal loving relationship before the other vampire entered their life. And what Im pitching is basically the fae-version of that for Feylinsand. Im invisioning Feyre having a corruption arc and slowly falling for Rhysand but she also still loves Tamlin and Rhysand also still loves him so they entrap him in this fucked up and evil but also hot and sexy poly relationship. That might be a little self-indulgent but idk man, this whole series is built on self-indulgence and its not even interesting because sjm has the most boring sex fantasies ive ever read. which yknow, im not necessarily judging, I just dont like it. Also actually nvm I think it would be funnier if Feyre didnt fall for Rhysand, like its not a thing of her coming down to his level so she can kiss him, she turns evil for completely unrelated reasons

Another thing you could do if you wanted to make it a trilogy, but maybe one thats less focused on sex because what else are you gonna do with a hot evil polycule, is you have Rhysand take Tamlin to the night court which is like, all the way on the opposite side of Prythian. So then the first book could be everything I just described except when Feyre comes back to the spring court, she finds that Tamlin is gone and it ends right there, on a cliffhanger. The next book would be her and Lucien and maybe Alis or some other fae she befriended traveling all across Prythian to get to the night court and we see a bunch of Prythian because godddd I despise the fact that in the actual acotar series, we're just trapped in the night court for 4 books and barely get to see anything outside of the night court, nay, velaris. And then the third book would be them trying to find Velaris, which would be a secret city in the sense that no one knows where it is but like people do know the name and that it does exist somewhere, and Feyre either does the trials and frees Tamlin that way or maybe theyll get the Illyrians on board to just kill him and that breaks the curse idk

And yeah, thats it, this got way longer than I thought. I was just kinda spitballing here because again, I dont like the first book's structure at all and I think the existence of Hybern is so unecessary. Like, Prythian has seven courts with plenty of potential for interesting politics to happen between them, whyyyyyy does there need to be a kingdom full of evil people for them to unite against?? I hate it

Anyway, Ive been thinking about this idea for a little while but I had no plans for fleshing it out in any way, but now that ive written all that down Im thinking of maybe cleaning all of that up and actually making it a whole rewrite at some point. I make no promises though, I suck ass at writing longer stories. So until then, let me know what you think of this

#anti acotar #acotar rewrite #anti rhysand #tamsand #feylin #not tagging fey//sand cuz i feel like th #the people who like that ship wouldnt appreciate this lmao #whatever the shipname for feyre/tamlin/rhysand actually is #feylinsand?#feysandlin?

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slutsofren · 10 months

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would you mind writing a little ficlet (or hcs) of the batboys and reader taking care of their newborn?

ever since i read the oneshot where reader goes into labor, i've been going FERAL at the thought of the batboys being loving dads set in the hloc universe🥺🥺

but only if you're comfortable and if you want to!!! you don't have to do this if you don't want to, no hard feelings 💜

OOH THIS IS GOOD

okay so i should start with a blanket message. i, personally, do not have children, i do not know how to raise a child save for a cat who is my pride and joy. i do not wish to have a child in my life. with that being said i will likely get a lot of things (lol everything) wrong in more detailed ways but hey, that's why this is a fantasy fic right lol

as always, details under the cut!! i went for general attitudes towards your pregnancy in the high lady universe but if you want something a wee bit different just shoot on over an ask :> 🤍🌹

**i will not be posting this to ao3 so it is a ✨tumblr exclusive✨

cw: babies, a little bit of violence mentioned but nothing bad :>

Azriel

az was the first one to try and get you pregnant and yes, he was trying multiple times a day for it to take so when the little flutter first happened, he cried. big fat tears.

when the babe was born with dripping black onyx wings az had weeped, they all did

he began to take less spy missions that would keep him away longer than a few hours just to stay home with his child, at least until they would old enough yeah right

it would take him months before he was able to stay a single night away on a mission at which point you had to reassure him with multiple kisses that the two of you would be fine

he cared for you in every single way possible, physically, mentally, emotionally, and would do everything in his power to keep you both happy

you wanted a bath? absolutely, here is your bath but let him take the baby, no it's fine he wanted to hold them :)

there would be nights where the babe would wake and cry and az would jump up and immediately take to them, consoling their cries

you'd watch as az would gently murmur stories from memory, of a high lady who fought to the death for her lovers, stories of you

az always was and always will be the protector of your little family

Cassian

absolute loser of a daddy

he didnt know the first thing of being a dad and he sure as hell did not know how to care for one

all brawn and very little brain for baby 101

he was never sure if he wanted kids when he first met you but seeing you pregnant, seeing his family, he was satisfied with whatever the outcome may be

he once tried to give baby a dagger when they were still a toddler and if you listen closely you could still hear Rhys’ voice shouting “NO” from the mountains of Illyria

for the first few weeks, cass was afraid he was going to drop the baby so he avoided holding them at all costs, leaving it to az and you

it wasnt until you assured him it was going to be fine did he give in, only to immediately start crying when he realized this was his family. he had a family. everything he fought for was for this.

cass was a warrior and he was absolutely going to be the one who trained your babies how to kick ass like him

Rhysand

rhys always was and always will be the most hesitant of the daddies

it took him time to come to terms with your pregnancy only because he lost his first family so violently, he wasn't sure if he was ready for that step but he knew he wanted it with you

rhys was the one who would secretly take the babe under the cover of darkness outside to practice flying as a surprise for you all

knowing the childhood of your other mates, he did everything he could to ensure none of your babies would ever grow up in violence like them or be in want of affection

with that being said, he became much more violent towards members of his court of nightmares.

he was a high lord so he was often not home but he would be damned to let the disease fester and grow under his reign, and he would make sure none of your children would shoulder his burden

to him, rhys did not care if he was biologically the father of any of your babies but he would fight wars for them so they would never have to

#the high lady talks #anon ask #the high lady of cunning #acotar rewrite #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader

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azsazz · 1 year

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Bloody Knuckles and the Songs of Death (Part 4)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is everything that Azriel is not. Opposite feelings but equal death in the end.

AKA: Half a rewrite of chapters 43-47 of ACOWAR where reader is now there as part of the Autumn Court, excited to meet Azriel. The other half are my own ideas.

Warnings: Major themes of death, ACOWAR spoilers, blood, gore, mentions of abuse, smut.

Word Count: 1,621

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part 3)

_________________________________________

Beron shields barely fast enough to block Feyre, but the wake singes Eris’ arm–right through the thick, emerald cloth. And the pale, lovely arm of Amaretto.

The others shout, shooting to their feet, but Feyre isn’t stopping yet. Her point hasn’t been made, and her wild gray eyes are consumed by the inferno she’s wielding at the flame master himself.

She stands, instead sending a wave of water from the reflection pool to encircle Beron and his chair. A bubble without air.

Flame pounds against it, turning water to steam, but she pushes harder.

She looks like she might kill him, and although you’re slightly disappointed it’s not the shadowsinger to take his life, you’re very happy at the sight before you.

Beron’s flame barrier slams into her water one, hard enough that ripples begin to form, steam hissing amongst them.

She bares her teeth and sends a fist of white light punching into that fiery shield–the white light of Day. Spell-breaker. Ward-cleaver.

Beron’s eyes widen as his shields begin to fray. As that water pushes in.

You shift onto the edge of your seat, eager eyes unable to look away. The taste of his panic is sweet on your tongue.

Rhysand stands before her, capturing her face in his soft hands. “You’ve proved your point, my love,” he says to her. “Kill him, and horrible Eris will take his place.”

She doesn’t say anything aloud but he answers her as if she had.

“As interesting an experiment as that might be,” Rhys croons, “It would only complicate the matters at hand.”

It’s silent for a long few heartbeats.

And then she lets go of her magic.

Beron’s flames explode like an unfurling flower–and bounce harmlessly off of the shield Rhys had thrown around them.

Not to shield against Beron.

The other High Lords are now on their feet.

“That was how you got through my wards,” Tarquin murmurs.

Beron’s panting so hard he looks like he might spew lava. His heated gaze turns on you in a silent command to kill them all, right here and now, but you’re too busy watching what the others are saying.

Helion rubs his jaw as he sits down once more. “I wondered where it went–that little bit. So small–like a fish missing a single scale. But I still felt whenever something brushed against that empty spot.” A smirk at Rhys. “No wonder you made her High Lady.”

“I made her High Lady,” Rhys says simply, lowering his hands from Feyre’s face but not leaving her side, “Because I love her. Her power was the last thing I considered.”

Helion asks Tamlin, “You knew of her powers?”

Tamlin only watches Feyre and Rhys, his declaration hanging between them. “It was none of your business,” is all Tamlin says to Helion. To everyone.

“The power belongs to us. I think it is,” Beron seethes.

Mor levels a look at Beron that would send lesser males running.

The Lady of Autumn is clutching her arm, angry red splattered along her moon-white skin. No glimmer of pain on that face, though. Feyre says as she reclaims her seat, “I’m sorry.”

Amarettos eyes lift towards her gray ones, round as saucers.

Beron spits, “Don’t talk to her, you human filth.”

Rhys shatters through Beron’s shield, his fire, his defenses.

Shatters through them like a stone hurled into a window, and slams his dark power into Beron so hard he rocks back in his seat. Then that seat disintegrates into black, sparkling dust beneath him.

Leaving Beron to fall on his ass.

You truly do like the Night Court.

Glittering ebony dust drifts away on a phantom wind, staining Beron’s crimson jacket, clinging like clumps of ash to his brown hair.

“Don’t ever,” Rhys says, hands sliding into his pockets, “speak to my mate like that again.”

Beron shoots to his feet, not bothering to brush off the dust, and declares to no one in particular, “This meeting is over. I hope Hybern butchers you all.”

But Nesta rises from her chair. “This meeting is not over.”

Even Beron pauses at her tone. Eris sizes up the space between Nesta Archeron and his father.

She stands tall, a pillar of steel. “You are all there is,” she says to Beron, to all of us. “You are all that there is between Hybern and the end of everything that is good and decent.” She settles her stare on the High Lord of Autumn, unflinching and fierce. “You fought against Hybern in the last war. Why do you refuse to do so now?”

Beron does not deign to answer. But he does not leave. Eris subtly motions his brothers to sit.

Nesta marks his gesture–hesitating. As if realizing she indeed holds their complete attention. That every word matters. “You may hate us. I don’t care if you do. But I do care if you let innocents suffer and die. At least stand for them. Your people. For Hybern will make an example of them. Of all of us.”

“And you know this how?” Beron sneers.

“I went into the Cauldron,” Nesta says flatly. “It showed me his heart. He will bring down the wall, and butcher those on either side of it.”

Truth or lie, you can’t tell. Nesta’s face reveals nothing. And no one dares to contradict her.

She looks to Kallias and Viviane. “I am sorry for the loss of those children. The loss of one is abhorrent.” She shakes her head. “But beneath the wall, I witness children–entire families–starve to death.” She jerks her chin at her sister. “Were it not for my sister…I would be among them.”

“Too long,” she continues. “For too long have humans beneath the wall suffered and died while you in Prythian thrived. Not during that–queen’s reign.” She recoils, as if hating to even speak Amarantha’s name. “But long before. If you fight for anything–fight now, to protect those you forgot. Let them know they’re not forgotten. Just this once.”

Thesean clears his throat. “While a noble statement, the details of the Treaty did not demand we provide for our human neighbors. They were to be left alone. So we obeyed.”

Nesta remains standing. “The past is the past. What I care about is the road ahead. What I care about is making sure no children–Fae or human–are harmed. You have been entrusted with protecting this land.” She scans the faces around her. “How can you not fight for it?”

She looks to Beron and his family as she finishes. Only the Lady and Eris seem to be considering–impressed, even, by the strange, simmering woman before them.

Beron only says, “I shall consider it.” A look at his wife and sons, and they vanish, leaving you and Eris in their wake.

Eris is the last to winnow, something conflicting dancing over his face, as if this was not the outcome he’d planned for. Expected.

The look he gives you is an order. One that has your stomach twisting with both excitement and nerves. He knows that he himself cannot stay here, not while Beron is beyond himself with anger, so he’s telling you to stay, to talk to the Night Court for him.

You nod, and he disappears.

Kallias asks Feyre quietly, “Did you master the ice?”

She gives him a shallow nod in return. “All of it.”

Kallias scrubs at his face as Viviane sets a hand on his arm. “Does it make a difference, Kal?”

“I don’t know,” he admits.

But Tarquin says, “You saved us Under the Mountain. Losing a kernel of power seems a worthy payment.”

“It seems she took far more than that,” Helion argues, “If she could be within seconds of drowning Beron despite the wards.”

Helion’s power, warm and clear, brushes against their shield, trawling through the air between everyone. As if testing for a tether.

Thesean declares, “What’s done is done. Short of killing her,”–Rhys’s power roils through the room at the words–“There is nothing we can do.”

Feyre stands, staring Thesean in the eye. Then Helion. Tarquin. Kallias. Even you, the representative for Autumn, exactly as Nesta had done. “I did not take your power. You gave it to me, along with the gift of my immortal life. I am grateful for both. But they are mine now. And I will do with them what I will.”

Her courtiers have risen behind her, now in rank, Nesta at her left. Rhys steps up to her right, but doesn’t touch her. He lets her stand on her own like Eris is letting you, to stare everyone down.

She says quietly, but not weakly, “I will use these powers–my powers–to smash Hybern to bits. I will burn them, drown them, and freeze them. I will use these powers to heal the injured. To shatter through Hybern’s wards. I have done so already, and I will do so again. And if you think that my possession of a kernel of your magic is your biggest problem, then your priorities are severely out of order.”

The High Lords and their retinues say nothing.

But Viviane nods, chin high, and rises. “I will fight with you.”

Cressida stands a heartbeat later. “As will I.”

Both of them look to the males in their court.

Tarquin and Kallias rise.

Then Helion, smirking at Feyre and Rhys.

And finally Thesean–Thesean and Tamlin, who did not so much a breathe in her direction, had barely moved or spoken these past few moments.

All eyes turn toward you. You cannot speak for the High Lord that you serve, but you can for yourself. For yourself and for Eris, you stand, and nod, pledging your allegiance.

“I will also fight with you.”

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #acotar rewrite #acotar #acowar #acomaf #shadowsinger #azriel x you #azsazz

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florencemtrash · 10 months

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The Wisp Between Worlds: Masterlist

Acotar fanfic/rewrite. Inner Circle x OC. Eventual Azriel x OC.

Summary: Have you ever wondered what you would do (and do differently) if you found yourself trapped in the fantasy world of your dreams? For Nora, this fantasy of hers is about to play out when she finds herself portaled away to the Moral Lands south of Prythian. But all is not as it seems. Feyre Archeron is missing and the deadline to break Amarantha’s curse draws near. Who will save Prythian now?

Started: 06/30/2023

Last updated: 09/02/2023

Chapter One: Black Waters

Chapter Two: The Girl and the Wolf

Chapter Three: Over the Wall

Chapter Four: The Fox and the High Lord

Chapter Five: Look at me

Chapter Six - In progress

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #inner circle x oc #azriel x oc #angst #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar rewrite #a court of thorns and roses #azriel mate #inner circle #writeblr #fantasy writing #fantasy #I want to believe I would survive in the ACOTAR universe

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ae-neon · 8 months

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If you have unresolved trauma with acotar's writing and need to exorcise the ghost of sjm from your body, I recommend the blog @/ifacotarwasgood

They're revising the writing page by page chapter by chapter.

Even just in the sense of picking up better writing tips, it's so enlightening to read.

And very stress relieving for someone like me who got hung up on the idea of a rewrite - which I no longer am

(though I'll compose a doc or masterpost with all the changes and added elements that would have fixed the og trilogy, if anyone is interested)

In any case, I am healed, they have healed me 💚 (I have a new secret acotar fic idea to hyperfixate on)

#sjm critical #anti sjm #acotar rewrite

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anaktoria-of-the-moon · 1 year

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One Hundred Thousand Wisdoms for Dealings With the Fae [an ACOTAR reimagining]

Three sisters, three journeys, and three fickle fae lords share one fate. (Read it here.)

The Wicklighter girls count three: gentle Aislin, brave Eire, and cunning Niamh. Like other mortals - ever since the ancient war that sent faekind into hiding and cleft the land in two - the sisters have always dreaded and hated the Fair Folk, whom mortal legend calls both fearsome and deadly. When Eire kills a fae wearing the guise of a bloodthirsty wolf, Niamh gives herself up to the Folk as a bride, hoping that they then might not take her sister’s life in revenge. Spirited away, Niamh meets with an unexpectedly alluring face of the beastly fae. So do her two sisters, who each cross the fae through their own struggles to mend what’s left of the Wicklighter family. Having learned new truths about the nature of the struggle between faeries and mortaldom, they must ask themselves: Can they trust age-old enemies of mankind whom they’ve come to love - and risk the safety of kingdoms for their sake - or do these wild, strange roses conceal only a bounty of thorns?

“Is this an ACOTAR fanfic?” Yes and no. It’s a ground-up rewrite that ended up deviating quite a bit from the source. You’ll find obvious analogs to the Archeron sisters (Feyre, Elain, and Nesta are reimagined as Eire, Aislin, and Niamh respectively; Feyre’s now the middle sister, Elain the youngest), and some broad plot points and narrative thrusts are maintained (the story still begins with Eire felling a wolf who is really a fae in disguise, for whose death the fae demand the exchange of a mortal life in turn; there is a magic wall that keeps mortal and fae lands apart following a now-ancient war between the two; there are fae courts ruled by lords of great and wild power, though the particular courts and lords differ greatly from those in the source). If you loved ACOTAR as is, you may or may not like this story. If you liked the broad aesthetics of ACOTAR (fae, wild magic, and romance between plucky mortal women and powerful, melancholy faerie guys) but were disappointed with the specifics of its execution, you might like this more.

“How long is this going to be?” Honestly, I don’t know. Long, probably. I have a lot planned.

“Is this a romance? Will there be sex scenes? Is this OK for younger readers?” Yes (though it’s not only romance); yes (eventually - we have a lot of plot to cover before that happens); probably not, but I’m not your mother.

“What makes this different from ACOTAR?” Well, aside from like, everything, I’m consciously trying to make this a much more diverse story (e.g., ⅔ of the non-female romantic leads are planned to be unambiguously non-White - one has extremely dark skin with vitiligo, the other is East Asian-coded; one non-female romantic lead is planned to be genderfluid, and another is bisexual, both with on-page representation of this). I’m also trying to walk more of a line where dynamics and behaviors may not always be healthy but, in cases where they are not, they are acknowledged as such and the narrative appropriately and satisfyingly shows development away from those dynamics and behaviors (or does not present characters perpetrating them as “good” or broadly admirable characters if they do not develop out of said dynamics and behaviors). You can find a longer (non-exhaustive) list of stuff I’m trying to achieve with this fic here.

“Why?” Well, because I like doing this. It’s fun.

“Where’s the credit for your cover art?” That’d be me. I mocked this up from scratch in Krita at like 1 AM with my own puny mortal hands (no AI, promise - I do not trust the robots). I am not a professional artist, so you get what you get.

“Who are you?” Here’s the answer.

Enjoy! (Or don’t. Again, I’m not your mom.)

#acotar rewrite #1htw #original fic #anti sjm #sjm critical

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positivelyruined · 1 month

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First one to comment gets to be the first one to beta-read my first drafted chapter!

It’ll be done by this evening. Ready…set…go!

#my wrtitng #acotar #acotar rewrite #Tamlin’s pov

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1nksta1neddesk · 8 months

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A Court of Readers and Dreamers Chapter List

Cross posted to Ao3 (x)

Chapter 1: Sheep in Wolves' Clothing

Chapter 2: Peace of Mind

Chapter 3: Rule #1, Magic

Chapter 4: Head First

Chapter 5: Hunting for Sport

Chapter 6: Prove the Paranormal

Chapter 7: Beat of a Heart

Chapter 8: Open Your Eyes

Chapter 9: Toe the Line

Chapter 10: Stare into Forever

Chapter 11: Effervescent

Chapter 12: House Call

Chapter 13: Sisters and Sacrifice

Chapter 14: Praying and Prattling

Chapter 15: Den of the Beast

Chapter 16: Bind and Break

Chapter 17: All Good Devils

Chapter 18: Daliesque

Chapter 19: Riptide

Chapter 20: Monster Party

Chapter 21: End of Days

Chapter 22: Round the Corner

Chapter 23: Strike the Match

Chapter 24: Tend the Flames

Chapter 25: Splintering

Chapter 26: Paper Cuts

Last updated : February 20 , 2023

#acotar #fanfic #a court of readers and dreamers #acotar rewrite #reader #inkywrites #reader insert #rhysand #rhys acotar #azriel #cassian acotar

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ifacotarwasgood · 9 months

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CHAPTER 1 - page 1/?

side-by-side comparison of acotar's original opening and my revised version.

original ch word count: 2452

revised ch word count: 1529

click for ch 1's full comparison document.

original:

The forest had become a labyrinth of snow and ice. I’d been monitoring the parameters of the thicket for an hour, and my vantage point in the crook of a tree branch had turned useless. The gusting wind blew thick flurries to sweep away my tracks, but buried along with them any signs of potential quarry. Hunger had brought me farther from home than I usually risked, but winter was the hard time. The animals had pulled in, going deeper into the woods than I could follow, leaving me to pick off stragglers one by one, praying they’d last until spring. They hadn’t. I wiped my numb fingers over my eyes, brushing away the flakes clinging to my lashes. Here there were no telltale trees stripped of bark to mark the deer’s passing—they hadn’t yet moved on. They would remain until the bark ran out, then travel north past the wolves’ territory and perhaps into the faerie lands of Prythian—where no mortals would dare go, not unless they had a death wish. A shudder skittered down my spine at the thought, and I shoved it away, focusing on my surroundings, on the task ahead. That was all I could do, all I’d been able to do for years: focus on surviving the week, the day, the hour ahead. And now, with the snow, I’d be lucky to spot anything—especially from my position up in the tree,

revised:

Hunger had brought me farther from home than I usually risked. From high in the crook of a tree, I monitored the snow-covered thicket, but my vantage had turned useless. Wind dense with flurries swept away my tracks but also buried any signs of potential quarry. I wiped my numb fingers over my eyes, brushing away the flakes clinging to my lashes. Most animals had pulled in deeper into the woods than I could follow, leaving me to pick off stragglers until spring. Here the birches were still sheathed in their papery white bark, which meant the deer hadn’t moved on yet. Once the bark ran out, they’d travel north, past the wolves’ territory and maybe into the faerie lands of Prythian. There, no one would dare follow—not even me, no matter how empty my stomach. I unstrung my bow and eased off the tree, stifling a groan. After more than an hour of stillness, my limbs were stiff. Icy snow crunched beneath my fraying boots, and I ground my teeth. Low visibility, unnecessary noise—I was well on my way to another pointless hunt. Only a few precious hours of daylight remained. If I didn’t leave soon, I’d have to walk home in the dark, and the warnings of the town hunters still rang fresh in my mind: wolves were on the prowl, and in numbers. Not to mention whispers of strange folk appearing between the trees, tall and eerie and deadly.

#acotar #acotar rewrite #ch 1 #is this too niche #but also #there must be a better way to display this

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duaghterofstories · 3 months

Text

Updates to the Acotar Rewrite:

Elaine has a chronic illness that causes her legs to be incredibly weak.

Prythian is the name of the island, the place of the courts is known as the Fae Lands.

The land has two moons. I just like the idea.

Rhysand is an actual feminist trying to actually make changes, the problem is no one respects his authority enough to listen to him.

Title ideas have been made: Rose Thorns; Court of Thorns; Roses and Thorns; Spring Roses; Thorns of Spring.

#acotar #acotar rewrite #pro tamlin #anti rhysand #pro nesta #pro nesta archeron

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a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire · 1 month

Text

yknow, a lot of people say that they wish SJM had just invented a new character to be Rhys' love interest for the Acotar sequel or paired him off with Nesta or something, but I actually think she shouldve gone further and just made Feyre get with a different high lord every book. Just imagine:

ACOTAR 1: Feyre/Tamlin, Feyre recovers from her childhood trauma but then oopsie, UTM happens and now shes got a bunch of new trauma oh noooooo

ACOTAR 2: Feyre/Rhysand, Feyre recovers from her UTM and also learns about feminism and how to fight good, I would prefer if instead of ignoring the part Rhysand played in her trauma like in canon, they actually leaned into it and made it so that Feyre reconciling with Rhysand and even falling for him was somehow symbolic for her reconciling with her UTM trauma

ACOTAR 3: Feyre/Tarquin, Feyre learns how to politics and maybe she learns about the injustices that the common faeries have to deal with as well, maybe there couldve been some seeds planted for this in ACOTAR 2 with the illyrians but she was too busy wth her trauma to deal with it at that point, but now shes ready

ACOTAR 4: Feyre/Eris, Feyre helps Eris with his political machinations culminating with her helping him kill his dad and become high lord, and its kind of a foil to the previous book where Feyre was doing like normal politics with a good guy but now shes doing fucked up and evil politics with a morally gray guy. Also, i havent met Eris yet but I do know that hes racist in canon so maybe we could have a subplot where Feyre helps him with that idk. helps him get over his racism i mean, not helps him to be more racist

I dont know enough about the other guys yet to come up with potential plots for their books, but in my perfect world they would all definitely get one

The final book would be Feyre getting together with one of the super powerful non-court fae like one of those freaks who lives in the middle like the weaver or something, except it has to be one of the male freaks because its a SJM book and we cant have a queer MC. So I guess that limits our selection to Koschei maybe? I actually dont know anything about that guy other than he exists, is he hot? cuz if hes not hot then we can strike him out imo. Then theres that demon-god that sent Nesta a horny vision in ACOSF I think his name was Lanthys, and I know for a fact that hes conventionally attractive so thats our first candidate. I actually quite like the idea of Feyre getting with Suriel and the way that would work is that it would be this reoccurring character that appears atleast once in each book when Feyre needs some information and she goes to catch it, and at the start of this last book shes just broken up with her latest high lord and shes like "that suriel has helped me so many times, I should do something kind for it" so she does that and theres this very fairytale-esque moment where it turns out this is the first time someone showed it a genuine act of selfless kindness to the suriel, and that causes it to transform into a really hot guy. And then Feyre and the Suriel start their grand romance

Also, I just realized if we wanted to keep with the theme of Feyre falling in love with a powerful fae* from a specific court, the capital p Prison island is described as almost being like its own court, so maybe Feyre could get with the Bone Carver which would be great because he can transform into like, the hottest of hot guys if he wanted to

So yeah, thats my pitch for an alternate ACOTAR Series. Would it be good? No. Would it be fun? Yeah, I think so. Certainly more fun than the series we currently have where we mostly just hang out in the same boring city with the same annoying guys

*the bone carver isnt a fae but you get what i mean

#miscellaneous acotar thoughts #acotar rewrite

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slutsofren · 10 months

Note

how cass felt when the reader kissed him?? could we have a director's cut on his thoughts??

I GOT YOU BABYYYY

reminder this is reader x cass/az/rhys polyamory & fmmm

content warnings: horny, biting instinct (doesnt happen), male masturbation, slight MM action, voyeurism, no sword crossing ⚔️, slight praise

notes: please read after chapter 28 :)

summary: after cassian finally gets his way with your lips, he flies away and takes his cock in hand. and another bat boy enjoys what he sees.

word count: 1,508

read on ao3 here / high lady masterlist

Cassian didn't know he was holding his breath until he saw you again. When you arrived back to the townhouse, he felt it.

He felt you.

He had been harsh on himself internally since his shameless flirting from a few days prior but he couldn't help himself around you. You were his mate, his first ever mate.

Centuries ago, he wouldn't have believed himself worthy of such a thing and yet here you were.

He had been in the front sitting room with Morrigan and Azriel discussing matters of the Court of Nightmares when something inside him sang with such profound beauty.

One look to Azriel and he knew what it was.

The moment he sensed your return he practically flew up the stairs of the townhouse, wings be damned.

Being the first to arrive, he flung the door open with such a force he was almost afraid it would dent the wall just as he called out for Rhysand.

But his eyes quickly found your frame.

You looked tired, a bit exhausted around the edges, but beautiful nonetheless. He drank your presence in like a lifeline and he couldn't help but let the feeling of pure unadulterated joy emanate from him.

You returned back to him.

Cassian watched on with Azriel beside him as you opened the wretched box and revealed the Book of Breathings. The voice that spoke from the object with light and airy, almost taunting in it's feigned innocence yet vicious in its own right.

He shifted from one foot to the next, only watching you. Watching how your shoulders tensed during this whole interaction yet your kept level headed when Rhysand was pushing you.

A fine warrior's spirit, Rhysands mother would have said.

Just as you were prompting to leave, his hand reached out to grab yours. Your hands were so small in his and he would do everything he could to make sure they stayed clean of blood.

The moment his skin touched yours, he felt something jolt through him, finding it's home at the base of his spine. It was warm and he savored it. “Are you okay,” he asked.

He watched closely as you looked towards the rest of the group as they discussed the Book. “I'm good. Tired,” you say honestly.

He noticed how you didn't remove your hand from his so he took it as a sign. Stars, he was grateful your new fae hearing wasn't as sharp as it could be lest you heard his pathetic, traitorous heart pounding in his chest at the mere chance at being close to you.

“Can I walk you to your room,” he asked foolishly. He wanted more time with you, he missed you. Missed how you'd waltz around with a glint in your eyes, knowing you were the most cunning of them all. He loved it.

After you agreed, he reveled in being in the same proximity with you for just that much more longer.

Cassian noticed how your heart seemed to beat in rhythm with his when you wanted to approach a difficult subject so he steeled himself for the worst.

But then you said something he wasn’t expecting.

“Rhysand wants to talk about,” you said as you made a wide gesture, “everything with me later.”

He wanted to play with you like you played with Rhys, so he pushed hard with his tactics. He flirted, eyes dropping down to your lips faster than you noticed.

“Fuck it,” you murmured hust as you kissed him.

It wasn't elegant, it was all teeth against his chapped lips but he was stunned you actually did it and he groaned in the pleasure of feeling your body wrap around his.

It took him a few more seconds before he gathered his mind together and kissed you back earnestly. His wings wrapped around the two of you as he pressed you against your bedroom door.

“Cass,” you whined against his lips as he began to lick and nip a trail down your throat.

Stars be damned, he was never into biting, not like Azriel, he had a few marks to prove it. But shit, he wanted to bite this pretty little neck of yours. So smooth against his tongue, so free of blemishes.

He quickly returned back to your lips, deepening the kiss until your hands found their way to his hair, knocking the strands loose from his leather strap.

Cassian could feel himself grow hard under your influence and it took everything in him to pull away.

Logic was out the window the moment your lips met his but he couldn't be the one to tell you he was your mate, that you had three.

Rhysand, the one you trusted most, had to be the one.

The two of you were like lost stars in the vast and endless abyss of the night sky and seemed to always find each other and Cassian wanted to be a part of that song so bad, just like Azriel. But for now, it wasn't about him and he was happy your body seemed as receptive of him as he was of you.

He could only hope your heart was the same.

So he mustered as much power as he could to pull you away, kissing you gently over your cheeks.

Fucking stars, he thought, he was still so painfully hard beneath his trousers. But he had to walk away or make a very big mistake.

“I want you so fucking bad,” he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning over your hair.

He could feel your breath hitch in your throat as he took a step back. “But that is a game for another day,” he smiled something fiendish at you.

“Of course,” you said catching your breath.

The two of you locked eyes as he did the dutiful thing and walked back down the hall to his own borrowed bedroom, he didn't wait to listen for you to shut your door as he shut his.

He paced his bedroom, back and forth, palming his hardened cock.

Without a second thought he threw open his balcony window, one that was in only his and Azriel’s rooms, and took to the skies.

He had to leave, he had to.

The scent of your lust permeated his nose and was starting to cloud his judgement and he had to get as far as he could away.

Thoughts of taking you every which way in your bed, against the wall, in your bathtub, on the floor, all of it stained his imagination. He wanted all of it.

Cassian landed very ungratefully on the training balcony of the House of Wind and shot himself to his actual bedroom. He didn't bother with shutting the door only to strip his clothes down to nothing as he began to touch himself.

“Ahh, fuck,” he growled as his palm grazed his bare cock.

Cassian prided himself on his sexual escapades but he couldn't help but wish he was watching your hand take him now. He spit into his hand and hissed as he took himself in his palm, stroking hard and soft, mirroring what imaginary-you would do to him.

“She got to you too,” a male voice laughed gently behind him.

He whipped around and saw Azriel leaning against his doorway, arms crossed. Az’s eyes flecked down to Cassian's exposed cock but looked back up to his eyes, “Well don't let me stop you. I've been touching my own since that day she let me hold her on our way to her sisters.”

“Well are you just going to stand there,” Cassian said, cock still in hand.

Azriel pondered for a moment before he nodded. “I think I might. Continue with your work.”

Cass rolled his eyes and continued to stoke. It wasn't the first time the two Illyrians had watched each other in the past and maybe that was a part of this mutual mating bond with the same female that made them so comfortable around each other but Cassian wasn't embarrassed. He wasn't even going to kick him out.

He just continued his moments.

A sharp gasp escaped him as he sped his movements up, chasing the same high he felt when he had you pressed up against your door. He could still taste your lips on his but he imagined the sweet tangy scent of your cunt preening for him instead, stars he wanted to taste you.

That imaginary scent had him spilling over the top as he came with a deep guttural groan. He came all over his deep bronze hands and already missed the way you felt against him in his mind.

Fuck, he was doomed.

Cassian fell to his knees, still feeling his orgasmic high coursing through him as his lungs ached for a full breath. He looked up as Azriel shifted in the doorway with a lustful knowing smirk, “Good boy.”

His heart skipped a beat as he watched Az walk away, satisfied enough with the sight of the Lord of Bloodshed on his knees.

#acotar rewrite #the high lady of cunning #the high lady talks #directors commentary #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n

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author-dapa · 19 days

Text

Rhysand's thoughts on Amarantha with a poem: 【So Cold】

A note on their dynamic, feel free to read before or after reading the poem:

The reimagining of their dynamic is purposefully mutually angsty to some extent. The idea is that they both want love, want warmth, so Amarantha fixated on Tamlin except she couldn't have him so she took Rhysand. In this sense, Amarantha is forcing love while Rhysand is helplessly grasping for it.

In this, Rhysand looses his naivety while still desperately clinging onto the idea that the warmth he found with Amarantha is somehow genuine because he can't decide if he wants it to be or not.

I've changed Rhysand’s mind reading power to an empathetic one. So during his captivity, he got to understand Amarantha as a person and know her anger, her grief, and even what made her happy. To Rhysand, his falling for her was so uselessly helpless he can't stand it.

She is still warm, she stills bleeds it, so with a love that hurts him, she destroys him and so when she dies finally, he destroys himself with her.

Her caresses draw blood and peel at the skin

When he wants to claw into her skin, it becomes something so painfully tender

He's seen her smile and felt her tears

How could he hate her?

How can he love her?

The poem:

So cold

So please

Open up my chest

Gorge yourself

on the empty scraps of my heart

Kiss me

with your lukewarm lips

Ah, please

With these heated gasps

of pleasure

of pain

Breathe agony

back into my lungs

Ah, why

is it still so cold

The stars shine so distantly

out of my reach

Falling so quietly

how can I find their warmth

again

Like this

all of my

hopelessly

foolish

dreams

Are buried in the cooling ash

Just like that

they become

cruelly

naive

nightmares

Ah, why

am I still asking why

it is still

So cold

So please

With this fire

that no longer has any meaning

Let me rest

on her pyre

If your curious, this was inspired while listening to CURE by VIVINOS (Alien Stage)

The song

If you want to use this poem for anything, you can let me know or not, but please credit me like this:

So Cold by dapa @aho-dapa @aho_dapa

#Rhysand #Amarantha #acotar #acotar rewrite #dapa rewrite hell #anti sjm #amarhys #edited the fire sentence because it was repetitive

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florencemtrash · 8 months

Text

The Wisp Between Worlds

CHAPTER FIVE: LOOK AT ME

Acotar fanfic/rewrite. Inner Circle x OC. Eventual Azriel x OC.

Warnings: None for this chapter

Masterlist

*Let me know if you would like to join the taglist*

________________

The library was a safe space full of softness and comfort. Tucked into a quiet corner of the manor, it overlooked the drowsy gardens with a solemn and watchful gaze like some silent sentinel. Soft sunlight, colored in vibrant greens, blues, and pinks from the stained glass windows, cast itself on the deep stained bookshelves that rose from the floor to the ceiling three stories up.

When Nora laid herself out on the lush velvet and stared up at the ceiling she could trace the shapes and careful brushstrokes of the fauns and river nymphs that raced across the pearl-inlaid canopy. When she fell asleep, clutching the leather-bound history books to her chest, she imagined the eyes of those creatures beginning to glow, watching her with careful interest as sleep finally came to claim her.

She was a ravenous girl, barreling through at least one book a day as she paced around the library, head bent and mouth silently making shapes of the words that flooded her mind. The first day she had scoured the first few shelves of books, searching for anything and everything related to history, politics, economics, and magic - though mainly history. The next few days she carefully and methodically worked her way through the stacks of books that she arranged on the empty desk by the window, stealing every inch of sunlight before the encroaching dark eventually forced her to return to her room, books in tow. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat until she could repeat from memory the names and children of the seven High Lords of the seven courts of Prythian dating back seven generations, until the drawings of the magic creatures that existed throughout the courts invaded her nightmares.

Lucien held the reins loosely in his hands, feeling the muscles of the horse beneath him ripple and flex as they moved along the uneven earth. These were deep and dark woods they found themselves in, woods that had fallen outside the bounds of Tamlin’s waning powers. He wouldn’t have dared to trek this far into the Western Woodlands if it weren’t for the High Lord that stalked beside him looking more comfortable as a beast than as a fae.

Four months. They had four months to break this curse.

“Nora seems to be settling in nicely.” Lucien said. He knew Tamlin had slipped into the library on multiple occasions, too hesitant to interrupt the girl whose blazen quest for books had overtaken the space. Still, he was glad to see the space used. It had been a long time since anyone had walked their halls with any real sense of purpose.

Tamlin grunted in reply.

“Last I heard she’s stowed herself away in the library.” Again, silence. “Reading.”

“That is what you do in libraries, Lucien. If you’re going to say something, say it simply.”

Lucien started at the movement of shadows out of the corner of his eye. Brushing off the unease of feeling watched, he said, “She likes books. Might be an avenue to court her.”

“Court her?” Tamlin said with no small amount of derision, “I remember you saying I should drop her in these woods for the Bogge.”

“And like most other times you chose to ignore my advice.” Lucien kept the irritation and bitterness out of his voice with practiced ease. “Whether I like it or not, she’s here. You’ve allowed a murderer into our home-”

“Into my home. I know what I’m doing.”

Lucien stilled, the horse pulling at the bit to continue forward - she wanted to finish their hunt and get out of these woods just as much as the son of Autumn on her back.

“If you know what you’re doing, then you know how important it is to get her to fall in love with you. It’s the only shot we have, Tamlin, and time is running out.”

“Don’t you think I know that!” Tamlin roared in frustration, turning on his heels and barring his teeth, “Don’t you think I know we are teetering at the edge of a knife? The future of my court, of Prythian, is in the hands of some human girl. A human girl that dozens have died to bring here.”

Dozens of friends sent to their death beyond the wall, murdered and cut apart and sold to the highest bidder for nothing. Everytime he thought about it too closely, his mind would descend into dark places that took days to emerge from. It was what kept him away from the manor, chasing after beasts of shadow and darkness that prowled the edges of his court, nipping at his heels like the evil omens they were.

“I don’t need you to remind me that time is running out.” Tamlin muttered and sighed, eyes looking off to the slivers of green pasture that slipped through the crowded woods, “Go back to the manor, Lucien, and keep an eye on the girl. I’ll finish this myself.”

“Tam-”

“GO!” Tamlin growled. The horse pawed anxiously at the ground, twisting its neck back towards home. Lucien allowed her to follow her instincts. She transformed the brisk trot into a gallop as they escaped the woods together leaving Tamlin behind.

Nora sat at the table, flipping through the pages of an index of magical creatures as she broke off bits of a chocolate scone and sipped at the cup of tea before her. Alis had all but dragged her out of the library to have lunch in the dining hall like a civilized person. It seemed pointless to Nora - why have lunch alone in the dining hall when she could have lunch alone in the library. It wasn’t even like Alis stayed with her all day, despite Nora’s frequent requests to be taken out of the manor to go horseback riding or to explore more of the manor’s grounds.

“Don’t know what you want to go out for.” Alis would say, “There are creatures in every corner that would love to sink their teeth into you.” Nora wondered if Tamlin was included in that group.

She hadn’t seen Tamlin, or Lucien, in two and a half weeks. Two and a half weeks of holing up in the library and only emerging to take extended walks around the manor or for mealtime. She’d already given up on trying to learn weapons fighting - reading techniques in books and practicing with an old fire poker didn’t equate to proper instruction from a swordsman and after months of surviving on so little, she doubted she had gained the strength to lift a real sword. Maybe if she pestered Tamlin or Lucien enough…

Her head shot up from the page on the Suriel as Lucien sauntered in, mouth flattening into a thin line when he saw Nora sitting at the table. She never looked quite right in Spring colors - pale pinks and blues too pastel against her skin, which had steadily been taking on a tan now that she was removed from the winter months in the Human Lands.

She swallowed her last bite guiltily, quick to move her papers and books from the dining table to make space for him. He waved off her efforts, sinking into the seat furthest from her and beginning to help himself. Her dark eyes tracked his movements as keenly as a hunting dog.

“Where’s Tamlin?” she asked carefully.

“Out hunting.” His words were quick and to the point. He’d tried to shrug off the sting of Tamlin’s words on his ride back home to the manor.

“What would he have to hunt? There never seems to be a lack of food.”

“He’s not hunting to eat, he’s hunting to keep these lands safe. You didn’t seriously think all fae would be as welcoming as we’ve been?”

Her eyes flitted down to the book she’d been reading, “No. I didn’t think that at all.”

With a snap of his fingers the book appeared in his hand. She jumped from her seat, running around the table to try and steal back the book, but Lucien merely stood up and held it out of reach, golden eye whirring as he read aloud, “The Book of Beasts - Erudition and Mesmerism. This is what’s kept you trapped in the library?”

She pushed roughly at his chest, frowning when he didn’t budge.

He walked over to her abandoned notes, eyes skimming the pages of her handwriting which progressively worsened the more tired and anxious she became. All notes on how to protect from magic and wicked fae of every variety. A familiar figure kept cropping up - The Suriel. Lucien examined everything thoroughly, tracing the words she’d written with a careful, if not quick, hand.

Nora scrambled to pick up her notes and books when he finally stepped away, hurrying back to the library in a flurry of tulle and anxiety. Would he think her strange for her research? Would he begin to suspect her plan?

No, that’s ridiculous. There’s no way for him to know what I know. He wouldn’t even believe me if I told him.

Wherever Tamlin was, he’d sent Lucien back to keep an eye on her. She might have enjoyed having company if he didn’t hover without so much as a word, slipping in and out of the library with a quietness her poor human ears couldn’t pick up on. He seemed infinitely curious about all the time she spent in the library and would occasionally get up from his seat on the sofa and take a turn around the room, brushing past her shoulders and peering over to look at her reading for that day, at which point she’d slam the book shut or gather her notes to her chest like they were her own children. There were few things she could call her own, and so she wouldn’t give up these scraps of knowledge, not even for Lucien.

“Who taught you to read?” Lucien gazed up at the girl. She’d moved around the library like a ghost on a mission, only huffing and muttering underneath her breath when the pages refused to yield their knowledge to her.

Nora gripped the ladder tightly. She had to crane her neck to look past the many layers of her seafoam green dress to where Lucien stood at the base of the ladder. With every passing day that Tamlin neglected to appear at the manor, the more anxious Alis became. Nora was no longer allowed to pick her dresses. Instead Alis would spend the first two hours of every morning carefully arranging her gowns and her hair to look perfect in advance of Tamlin’s arrival. Lucien had to admit that Alis’s efforts were working, paired with the simple fact that Nora was slowly filling out her dresses with regular meals and time to rest. Her skin no longer held that pallor of poverty.

“Excuse me?” She looked at him like he’d grown horns.

“Where’d you learn to read?”

Nora blinked, briefly forgetting that illiteracy was a prevalent problem in the Human Lands. “Jaskiel taught me. He was a merchant.”

“And who is this Jaskiel?”

Lucien didn’t miss the droop of her shoulders or the sad memories that glazed over her eyes. She missed him dearly.

“I suppose you could call him my adoptive father.” The smirk on Lucien’s face faltered. He only knew the briefest account of her story - taken by slavers from the Continent and forced to survive by the Wall on the kindness of strangers.

“Merchants are taught to read contracts - bland and boring things.” He said, fingers dragging over the shelf with a look of boredom.

“Words are words.” She said, eyes returning to the soft leather spines of the books in front of her, “Just because you start off reading contracts doesn’t mean you can’t learn to enjoy other things.”

“Like bland and boring accounts of history.”

She shot him a look of indignation before returning to her search, “What do you want, Lucien?”

Lucien shifted beneath that gaze - a look that spoke of exhaustion and a sadness deep and unbroken. It was a feeling he was well acquainted with.

He should hate her. She was here solely because she hated fae strongly enough to murder one in cold blood, but the longer and longer she remained at the manor, the less he felt that to be true. How hateful could someone be who seemed so genuinely curious about their way of life, their magic, the creatures good and bad that roamed the lands wild and wicked? More than once he’d passed by the library to find her pouring over pages with a light in her eyes that could rival the powers of the Day Court.

More than hateful, she just seemed lonely.

Slowly the pieces began to fall into place. The second set of tea cups on the table, the hours upon hours spent alone reading about Prythian, the unfinished letters to her family, blotted and torn from tears - they laid out a story of loneliness and a fear of a world wholly unfamiliar to her and filled to the brim with people that would like nothing more than to see her dead. It was a miracle Amarantha hadn’t found out about her.

“I thought you might like some company.” Lucien said, abandoning the snide comment he’d been planning to tell her, “Maybe time spent away from this stuffy place.” After all, she would be of no use to anyone if she went mad in isolation.

She perked up at this, climbing down the ladder in her ridiculously lavish dress that felt more appropriate for a Court ball than a day spent indoors.

“Where will we be going?”

She stretched out her arms, breathing in the familiar scent of the woods. After trading in the dress for riding pants and a cloak, Lucien had led them out on horseback to the Western Woods, still close enough to the manor that they would be safe. Birds chirped lazily from their nests, drunk on honey and nectar and the wind whispered between the gaps in the trees. The spare bow Lucien had given her rested comfortably on her back. It wouldn’t be of much use in the hands of an untrained human, but if it made her feel more relaxed in his presence he would allow it.

Maybe I should strap a sword to her back when Tamlin’s around. Lucien thought with a silent chuckle, then immediately stopped. Tamlin would hate to see her armed.

He took the lead, a few paces in front with his own sword strapped to his side in a sheath of glimmering gold. Nora wondered if it had ever been used before.

“You said Tamlin’s been out hunting but you never told me what.” Nora said, breaking the fragile silence and surprising Lucien.

“A creature called a Bogge. A creature you should pray never to cross paths with. I assume you’ve come across it in your readings?” He turned in his seat, the tail of his riding cloak catching the light to shift between gold and forest green - colors fit for a bright autumn day.

Nora nodded, “A species of lesser fae. Children of one of the First Gods, Lanthys. Formless and filled with malice and hate, they don’t become real until you give them the power to become real by looking at them.”

The corner of Lucien’s mouth twisted in a half-smile. She sounded like a prized pupil that had been waiting for an examination.

“How do you fight it?” She asked, “In the Human Lands people say fae are vulnerable to iron and ashwood. Iron does nothing and most weapons here aren’t made from ashwood. So how do you kill other fae? How do you kill an idea?”

“You’ve been doing your research.”

“There’s been little else to do.” Nora said, looking off to the side as a squirrel darted out from the underbrush, “Boredom made me rather productive.”

“Like attracts like,” Lucien said, repeating the words that most high fae children heard first from their tutors, and then from soldiers and generals if they were ever trained in the art of warfare, “Like protects like, and like destroys like. Contradictory, I know, but it’s magic that can transform typical weapons into ones capable of killing other fae or magic embedded into fae-crafted weapons that give them power. Ashwood is special - it has a natural magic of its own that allows it to be deadly to us, even when wielded by humans. You can still find fae-crafted weapons with ashwood inlays.”

Nora pulled out a glistening silver arrow from her quiver. Sure enough, threaded through the metal as finely as veins in a living body, were slivers of gray-stained ashwood. Lucien slowed down to walk shoulder to shoulder with her, tracking the gentle sway of her body as she ran her fingers along the shaft of the arrow.

“As for the Bogge,” He continued, feeling her hang onto his every word, “Only a High Lord has the power capable of destroying it.”

She nodded thoughtfully, “Hence why Tamlin’s been hunting it for the last two weeks.”

Lucien stiffened in his seat, then swore loud enough for the sterlings nearby to take flight.

Nora chuckled - a sound he’d never heard before.

“How long have you known Tamlin was High Lord?”

Always. “Since the second night.” The lie rolled easily off her tongue, “I found a genealogy tome in the library. You’re in there too, obviously.”

At the briefest mention of his family, Lucien’s expression darkened and Nora knew not to brush the subject again. Memories, dark and terrible, floated behind his eyes almost as easy to read as a book. He schooled his face into one of bored neutrality, but there was a bite behind his words when he said, “Be careful of the things you learn, Nora.” It was the first time he’d ever said her name.

“If Tamlin’s a High Lord, the Bogge should be easy to track down and kill, shouldn’t it? He’s one of the most powerful beings in all of Prythian.”

Lucien set his teeth together. “It’s not as simple as that anymore.”

“And why not?”

“I can’t-” Lucien growled in frustration, rubbing at his temples and brushing against the borders of the mask on his face with hate. Strands of scarlet hair fell out from his elegant braid, as if highlighting his distress. The timing was almost perfect enough to be comedic. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not? I’ve done my reading, magic is as much a part of Prythian as water is to the sea.” Just tell me about Amarantha - as much as you can say under the curse. Say the words and I’ll figure the rest out myself, “Nowhere does it mention the capacity for anything to go wrong with the-”

Lucien grabbed hold of Nora’s waist and dragged her over onto his horse, clamping one strong hand over her eyes and pressing her against his chest. Curses spilled from her mouth as she slapped him. She may as well have been hitting a stone wall.

Why the fuck are you so goddamn strong?

“Stop it. Stop it now.” Lucien hissed into the curve of her ear, fear lacing through every fiber of his voice. It was enough to make her freeze in her seat. “Don’t move. Don’t look. No matter what happens, don’t look.”

The tan of his face had been all but drained, leaving the space between the mask and his jaw pale and sickly. She felt it then, the presence of something lurking at the edges of her mind and soul. Something as old as time itself, ancient and horrible in every way imaginable. It waited outside of her mind, knocking and slamming its hands against doors and walls that remained firmly shut.

She clamped her eyes shut tightly enough to see sparks behind her eyelids and silently latched onto one arrow with a vice-like grip.

Lucien’s breath was trapped in his chest as that inky, devilish voice invaded his mind and made his stomach turn.

Look at me…Look at me. LOOK AT ME!

I will devour you whole - your flesh, your body, your soul. I will be your worst nightmare. I will drink your blood and gnaw on your bones.

Look at me.

Lucien flinched, pathetically attempting to steel his ever-weakening resolve against the Bogge’s temptations. Every cell in his body screamed at him to end his misery, to end it all and gaze upon the Bogge. Anything to stop this madness.

I will leave you for the crows. I will bury you in the earth.

LOOK AT ME.

I will fulfill all your desires. I will give you everything.

Nora waited with bated breath for the feeling to leave her and slowly but surely, she felt the turning of her stomach ebb away into nothingness.

“You can open your eyes now.” Lucien gasped out as he gestured for Nora to remain on his saddle and set the mare into a quick pace back to the manor. Nora’s horse followed close behind, edging ahead of them now that it had reason to run and lacked the weight of a rider.

“The Bogge?” Nora asked quickly.

Lucien nodded, taking the time to assure himself that Nora was alright. And she was… surprisingly. Aside from the pale tint to her skin and the way she leaned against his chest, curling in on herself as if he could shield her, she was handling it remarkably well.

Tamlin paced at the front doors, immediately alerted to Lucien and Nora’s presence in his lands when they emerged from the woods. His green eyes, alight with fury and fear at returning to an empty house, narrowed in on the pair. The riderless horse arrived first, chestnut brown coat slick with sweat and foaming at the mouth from exertion.

Lucien stilled, pulling at the reins ever so slightly and dreading what thoughts might be running through Tamlin’s mind. He’d taken Nora off the main grounds without permission, and nearly gotten the both of them killed in the process. From the way Tamlin’s jaw clenched at the sight of the two of them sharing a saddle, he was not pleased.

“Where the hell have you been?” Tamlin growled out when Lucien leapt off the horse. He brushed off Lucien’s hands and helped Nora down himself before she could say anything, hands gently grasping her waist.

When she was on solid ground he placed himself in between her and Lucien.

“Tamlin, I can explain.” Lucien said, lifting his hands in surrender.

“Explain it then.” He pushed back on Lucien’s chest and unlike the times when Nora had done so, he was forced to step back and regain his balance, “I come home expecting the two of you to be here. Next I hear you’ve disappeared into the Western Woods. Do you understand how dangerous these times are?! And for a human girl no less!”

“I wasn’t thinking-” Lucien stumbled over his words and his steps. Tamlin opened his mouth, anger and power rolling off his body.

“I asked him to go!” Nora shouted, pulling at Tamlin’s arm that was pointed firmly at Lucien’s chest. “I was bored to death in that house and I asked him to go. I begged him.”

A sliver of relief swam behind Lucien’s mask as Tamlin turned towards Nora. She immediately let him go and stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself and making herself small.

“Don’t blame him.” She murmured, “It was my idea.”

“I suppose I should’ve done more to make sure you were taken care of.” He said through gritted teeth. None of the tension left his shoulders when he acknowledged Lucien once more, taking in the thinly veiled fear in his eyes, “What happened in the woods? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I nearly looked at the Bogge.”

Tamlin froze, “The Bogge? In the Western Woods?”

Lucien nodded.

“That’s impossible. I already checked every inch of those lands. The wards-” Tamlin bowed his head and cursed the ground beneath his feet. “Lucien, get Nora back to her room. And neither of you leave the manor until I get back. Understood?”

They both nodded as the ground beneath him began to glow. It was as if the land itself was draining its magic into Tamlin’s body, setting his skin alight in shades of bronze and gold. In the blink of an eye the beast that had first brought her to Prythian returned and Tamlin barreled towards the treeline.

“Come on, let’s go.” Lucien said, tilting his head towards where Alis waited by the front steps, gnarled hands as wrinkled as a tree branch twisting in front of her stomach. “I’ll walk her to her room, Alis.” He said.

She bowed deeply, sneaking a glance at the ruined state of Nora’s riding boots and the flecks of tree bark in her hair. But then her eyes softened and relief flooded in. The girl was safe. That was all that mattered.

“You did well, not looking.” Lucien said as they wove their way through the labyrinth of hallways and then finally stopped in front of her door. The words, thank you, lingered on the tip of his tongue, daring to dive out of his mouth.

Thank you for taking the fall for me today. Thank you for lying.

But instead he said, “Most fae fall for the Bogge’s temptations.”

Her brows furrowed together. “What do you mean?”

Lucien tilted his head in confusion, russet and gold eyes narrowing, “The Bogge speaks to you in your mind and shakes your soul. It promises you things great and terrible - anything to get you to look at it.”

Nora looked stealthily down to the floor, hiding her face and trying to match the lingering terror in Lucien’s countenance. She imagined she was painting an image of herself in his likeness.

Lucien gently held her shoulders, shaking her until she looked up at him with worry. He scanned her face, eyes widening, “You didn’t hear the Bogge, did you?”

“I did.” She lied, but he caught onto it.

“No… No you didn’t.” Lucien snapped his head up and looked around the empty hallway quickly. He bent down until she could look directly in his eyes and murmured desperately beneath his breath, “Tell no one about this.”

Nora gaped, “What?” She whispered back.

“I don’t know what it is, but there’s something strange about you, and that is dangerous. Tell no one.”

She nodded dumbly, stunned and overwhelmed by everything that had happened today. The weight of it crashed around her as chaotically as a tsunami. Lucien opened the door and ushered her in, giving her one last careful glance before leaving her to her thoughts.

________________

Taglist: @myheartfollower @impossibelle @chybay22 @lahoete

Author's note: Lucien deserves more love - that's it. That's the note. Oh also, apologies it's taken me so long to get this chapter out. Life has unfortunately happened.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #eventual azriel x oc #lucien x oc #lucien vanserra #tamlin the tool #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #acotar rewrite #the spring court #acotar spring court #eventual inner circle x oc #found family #writeblr #azriel shadowsinger

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