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aladyofgoodtaste · 3 months

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A Court of 'It's giving beauty & the beast' and 'Except you can't tell which one is which'

Spring is rotting away. Not just its Court but across the lands as well. Without it, there can be no new beginnings, no rebirths and nature itself will cease to a halt. And thus Fates dictate that a human and a broken Fae must create a miracle together.

Tamlin thinks that the Mother is cruel for the salvation of his home requires another human’s help while Juno curses whatever entity that Isekai’ed her into this shitty ass book series.

AO3

Chapter 2: It’s the panic attack for me

Juno shares some discoveries. Tamlin is trying to process said discoveries. No one wins.

CH1 |CH3

Tamlin and Juno’s misfortune began when they woke up beside the Rot. For clearer context, both of them woke up in different parts of the Spring Court, yet at the same time. The sun was shining high in the afternoon sky, the grass had patches of darkness that upon contact, became ashes, and the air was foul. Juno found herself underneath a sad, dying tree that used to be oak. Tamlin opened his eyes beside a murky lake where dead, sickly-looking fishes floated on the surface - both of them terribly confused with a voice faintly lingering in the recess of their mind:

“Stop the Rot. Restore Spring.”

What happened next was a series of more misfortune, more confusion, and an altercation that could only erupt from a Fae who had been betrayed by a human and a human who had no idea where she was. Tamlin, who cursed when he discovered that his magic became so weak that it forcefully shifted him back to his Fae form, wandered further into his Court; where the Rot had feasted upon the lands that all was left were husk. Juno, who was supposed to crash at her best friend’s apartment for their sleepover, searched for civilisation. Both ended up meeting in a wasteland that used to be a flourishing wheat field.

The two made eye contact. The two had no idea how to react at first.

The exiled High Lord proved quicker, eager to lose himself in rage. His life had never been the same when a human female walked into it. From then onwards, his prejudice against mankind had turned to the worst. With his last bit of magic and rationality, he transformed back into a beast and launched himself at the poor human female.

Except the human isn’t as ‘poor’ as Tamlin thought. The beast completely missed his claws despite the human being frozen in shock. He scrambled to his feet, snarling mindlessly. The High Lord was more feral than Fae, and that, in itself, is one of the sweetest forms of escapism. All that drives him are pure emotion and needless violence. So he tries again and attacks, only to stumble upon a weak knee. Tamlin was exhausted in every way - magic, body and mind - and the sight of him was beyond pathetic. The once powerful and dignified High Lord of the Spring Court was reduced to an incoherent mess. Yet he tries to attack again and again… and again. None of the blows were delivered.

“Ok. So. I have no idea what I just did, but this is sad, man.” The human female confessed, a complicated expression on her face. She warily - and a bit annoyed - stepped around Tamlin. “You could talk earlier, so can you quit it already? I really need some answers, and you’re the only one around.” Well, he didn’t talk so much as screaming at her about how humans bring nothing but destruction and that he’ll rip out her throat. Not the most sane person that Juno could’ve come across but at this point, she’s desperate for some information.

The beast didn’t give her an answer, for exhaustion finally took him over, and he passed out.

Tamlin was the only one to wake up a second time. The sun had long set beneath the horizon; the night air was chilling and was only kept at bay by a crackling fire.

“You’re awake, Beasty?” It’s the human female again, and that’s when Tamlin realises he’s in a cave and tied up by dry vines when he tries to wiggle. “I bet you can easily break free from those ropes. That wasn’t an invitation, by the way. I’m really hoping you finally chill the fuck out so we can talk.”

She’s right. He can easily rip the vines off of him, even in his weakened state. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance,” Tamlin scoffs. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but I can promise you, you won’t be making it out of here alive.”

The human pauses from kindling the fire to stare incredulously at him. “Dude, I told you earlier. All I wanted was some answers! A-And you’re the one who attacked me! What the fuck is your deal?”

“Give them an inch, and humans will always take a mile. Your kind is beyond ungrateful even when I… I…” Anger, self-loathing, and despair threaten to choke Tamlin as the image of one female keeps replaying in his mind. He closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath.

“Right…” For a brief moment, the human worries that Tamlin is about to dissolve into a crying mess of a puddle. “I’m gonna be honest; I don’t really care what you’re going through right now. I just want to go back home. So if you can shelf your mental breakdown for some other time and tell me where we are right now, that’ll be great.”

It took a herculean effort for Tamlin to calm himself before finally pushing himself up so he could sit properly. Shadows from the fire dance upon his figure. “Wandered a bit too far away from home, mortal? Did your curiosity drive you to explore beyond the Wall?”

Instead of bristling with embarrassment, the human merely blinks. “What Wall? I woke up somewhere here, underneath a tree.” She explained, and Tamlin did not sense any lies. “Which is weird because I can clearly remember that I was walking up to Nora’s apartment. I don’t think I was jumped or murdered because the street was busy with people. Sunday afternoon - you know how it is.”

She speaks freely with no hesitation or any underlying misdirection. This human is honestly lost and… utterly strange to Tamlin. From the clothing that she wore (he had never seen a female wearing a pair of strange dark, circular glasses on her face before) to her manner of speaking. She worries about her current predicament, that much is given, yet nonchalant too - as if she had already resigned to her fate. Curiosity begins to take root within Tamlin, and after staring at the equally strange-shaped bags beside the human, he decides to ask, "Who are you?"

The human tilts her head as if she didn't expect him to cooperate. "Juno." She replies, still honest. "No last name. I see those pointy ears. I have a good guess as to what you are."

"And what am I?"

"Elves. Maybe Vampires? I know some versions have pointy ears, but I don't see fangs. Siren? But we're not even near the ocean. I guess... a Faerie then."

Tamlin's eyebrows nearly raise to his hairline. She's astute. However, he doesn't know what kind of creature she listed as the second option. "Wise of you to keep your name close to your chest against a Fae."

"Play it safe instead of going in aggro; that's my kind of play style," The human female - Juno, as he now knows - speaks with stranger phrases and words. "Since you're in a chatty mood, can you tell me where we are right now?"

Tamlin tosses her an unimpressed look.

"Aww, c'mon! Look, I'll give you some fruits if you just give me one tiny answer." Juno wheedled and presented two pears from behind her back. They look juicy and healthy. A stark difference from the nearby vegetation. It seems she did some foraging while he was passed out.

At that moment, something unthinkable happened - Tamlin's stomach growl. Hunger finally caught up to him.

"Fine," He snaps, refusing to be embarrassed even when Juno smirks. "Release me, and I'll answer your question.”

“That sounds stupid, but what the hell. I got a feeling that you can't do much in your current state anyway.”

The High Lord has never felt so... so degraded! Even against Rhysand and Feyre! This human female is seriously pissing him off. So he makes his displeasure known through his glare as she unties the vines and plops a pear on his lap. When she turns her back on him, Tamlin entertains the thought of slashing her into ribbons... and decides that he's not in the mood. The two dined on whatever fruits Juno could forage and washed their sticky hands and parched throats with clean water. The food wasn't enough to fill his stomach, but it'll have to do for now.

"Well?" Juno prompted once there was nothing but the crackling fire to fill in the silence.

Tamlin sigh. Something he would have never done before an introduction, something his father would beat him to a pulp for his lack of decorum. However, there's little that he gives a fuck about nowadays. "You're in the Spring Court. My Court - I'm Tamlin, its High Lord." He doesn't even know why he gave the human his name and title. It's not like she would even -

"Are you fucking serious?"

Tamlin expected a tilt of the head, he expected a sign of obnoxious confusion or even a mouth shaped into an 'o' because the information means nothing to a human. Or at least, it should mean nothing to her.

What he didn't expect was Juno's face to twist in utter hatred and recognition that ignited his fight-or-flight instincts. Every bit of his training as a warrior warned him that whatever was in front of him couldn't be human, for Tamlin was familiar with animalistic rage, but this? This goes beyond that.

"You're Tamlin... the High Lord of the Spring Court," Juno repeats slowly as if she couldn't believe it. A part of Tamlin feels insulted, but he doesn't know why. "OH, FUCK OFF! SHUT THE FUCK UP! HOLY SHIT, SHUT THE FUCK UP! FUCK YOU, SJM! I'VE BEEN ISEKAI'ED INTO THE COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES!"

This is how the fates of the world change; the worldviews of two characters flipped into a 180°.

Sometime in the night, the fire has long died off. Outside of the cave, a new day is creeping ever closer. Not that it matters to Tamlin and Juno, who might as well be frozen in time due to the sheer absurdity of what they've discovered from each other.

" - LOSE WHATEVER BRAINCELLS I HAVE LEFT WHENEVER I READ SCREENSHOTS OF PAGES FROM THE BOOKS! I CAN'T FUCKING STAND FEYRE EVEN BEFORE SHE WAS RETCONNED IN THE LATER SERIES! I HAVE NEVER HATED A CHARACTER WITH EVERY FIBRE OF MY VERY BEING UNTIL I FOUND OUT ABOUT THAT STUPID PIECE OF WHITE GIRL SHIT AND HER CUNTLICKERS!"

Juno screamed, ranted, cursed, and generally complained very heatedly about a book series called A Court of Thorn and Roses written by a human named Sarah Janet Maas as she paced for hours and hours. Her words were a jumbled mess of pieces from the books and her opinions about the characters, lore and even the maps ("I KNEW THE SERIES IS NOTHING BUT DUMPSTER FIRE WHEN PRYTHIAN IS LITERALLY ENGLAND! SHE CAN'T EVEN CREATE HER OWN MAPS!? WHAT LAZY WRITING! AND PEOPLE LET HER GET AWAY WITH IT? LET HER VILLAINISE IRELAND? WHAT THE FUCK!?"). She's a passionate human - or maybe hateful? - who looked as if she was about to crack open Feyre's or any of her courtiers' ribcage and dig out their hearts so she could feast on them. The manic gleam in her eyes is even more frightful than the King of Hybern’sl.

As for Tamlin, he's provided with two options: Decide that this female is utterly insane or accept the fact that it was fate by a white, mortal woman and her mediocre writing for him to be a villain in someone else's story. And he hates how he's leaning to the latter.

Everything that came out of Juno's mouth aligned with everything that Tamlin went through, everything that he did and did not do. The world that he always knew had been yanked from underneath his feet because -

“ - THE AUDACITY OF THE FUCKING BITCH TO BELIEVE THAT HER ACTIONS HAVE NO CONSEQUENCES WHEN SHE KILLED ANDRAS AND HELLO? WHY WAS HE NOT MENTIONED EVER AGAIN AFTERWARDS!?

Tamlin is nothing more -

“ - AND ANOTHER THING, THAT CLARE BEDDOR BIT!? SCUMMY. SHITTY. AND THE WORST PART? ABSOLUTELY NO ACCOUNTABILITY. ACTUALLY, YEAH, LET’S TALK ABOUT ACCOUNTABILITY - ”

A character to be -

“EVERYTHING THAT YOU DID AS THE STORY PROGRESSED? IT GAVE ABUSER. YOU’RE WAY TO DAMN EMOTIONAL FOR SOMEONE WHO IS A LEADER, MIND YOU, AND LASHED OUT AT EVERY PERCEIVED SLIGHTS AND HARM! I GET THAT YOU WANTED TO PROTECT FUCK’S HER FACE. I GET THAT YOU GOT MAD BEEF WITH RHYSAND ‘CAUSE OF THE PAST. I GET IT! BUT FOR FUCK’S SAKE TAMLIN! YOU COULD’VE PLAYED THE GAME A LOT BETTER!”

Juno suddenly pauses here. She finally turns to Tamlin, who had been silent the entire night. Seeing his grief-stricken face and faraway gaze made her sigh. She strides forward to plant her ass beside him, her voice now soft. “And yet, you’re a much better person than me, Tamlin. ‘Cause if I was told to save my ex’s new lover who has done so many horrible shits to me and my family? I’d spit, piss and shit in Feyre’s mouth before laughing and driving off into the sunset.”

“Used. I’ve been used my entire life.” Tamlin croaks out. His voice is uncomfortably dry. He feels like throwing up, screaming at the high heavens.

He wants to disappear.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Juno sighs. She begins looking around and patting the pockets of her pants. “Apparently, SJM likes to villainise you. You were so thoroughly retconned that it felt like a fanfic where she bashed your character. Don’t let her win. Hell, don’t let the Covid-carrying batboys win either.”

“You just told me that none of this is real! This world, its people and by extension, me!” He roars. He whips his head to the side, hands balling into fists. “I’m a monster, always have been! An irredeemable villain meant to be forgotten while the ‘main characters’ get to enjoy their happily ever after! They won, human!”

Juno rolls her eyes. “So what if you’re ‘irredeemable’? I don’t care about you enough as a character or even hate you! And besides, this isn’t the checkout counter, and you’re not a coupon. Here.” She fishes a piece of chocolate from her pocket and hands it to Tamlin. “It’s valid for you to be upset, but if you don’t face the fact that your story has already ended, you’re gonna continue to spiral like this. It’s not healthy, man.”

Tamlin begrudgingly accepts the chocolate. He unwraps to take a small bite, pleasantly surprised to find it’s filled with caramel. The flavour bursts onto his tongue, and for a moment, the sweetness is enough to tamper with the choking bitterness that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I’m gonna be honest with you - ”

“You weren’t the whole night?”

Juno’s mouth hangs open; she didn’t expect his dry quip. Soon enough, her dark brown eyes dance with mirth.

“That’s cute. Ok, so, what I was trying to say is that exile? Clearly, not a good look on you, Tamlin. The hobo aesthetic isn’t it. Don’t you want your pound of flesh from Shitsand and French Fries?”

She’s genuinely curious, Tamlin understood. Revenge… how many nights did he dream about it? Sometimes, the ‘what ifs’ were the only thing that could help him sleep. What if he still had his army, his sentries? His loyal band of warriors after the wake of Amarantha and Feyre’s attack? He would overthrow Rhysand, finally kill him and then… kill Feyre? The once mortal girl he thought he loved, and she, loved him in return? Thinking about her never fails to send him into a vicious cycle that revenge is merely a pipe dream. And truth be told, he is done with violence especially after the war with Hybern.

So, instead, what he says is, “I just want to be left alone. I’m done with everyone’s bullshit.” It’s as honest as someone like Tamlin could give.

“Fair,” Juno shrugs. “Though I don’t think everyone is done with you just yet...” She trails off. Tamlin follows her attention to the world outside of the cave. Morning has finally risen, and instead of luscious green, what greeted the two was an expansion of black and dry cracks on the ground and lifeless trees. “Quick question: Does the sentence, ’Stop the Rot. Restore Spring.’ means anything to you?”

“Stop the Rot. Restore Spring.”

Tamlin's heart stutter a beat. He recalls that sentence, spoken in his mother’s voice. Now, it echoes in his mind as he meets his eyes with Juno’s.

“Guess you have, huh? Aite. I’ve seen enough anime and read Manhwas about this premise.”

“How… you’ve heard my mother’s voice as well?” Tamlin asks incredulously.

This time, it’s her who is startled. She and Tamlin share the same expression. “What? No! When I first woke up here, I heard that same sentence rattling in my head. Though, I heard it in my Mum’s voice, which is weird because she would never say something so formal to me. It would have been, “Juno! Stop being lazy and go fix Spring already!”

She cackles and slaps her knees. Tamlin ignores her. What does this mean? They both heard the same sentence but in their own mother’s voice? He has never come across such a peculiar conundrum. A single glance at his Court is enough to see the issue at hand - everything is dying or rotting to the core. Tamlin recalls seeing patches of land that appear sickly months after the downfall of his rule and home. Is magic itself leaving the Spring Court? Is that why everything is turning into a husk, and him growing weaker by the day?

As Tamlin ponders about this, Juno entertains herself by rummaging through her bags. Sorting out the items that can help her survive in the long run.

“This is a sign from the Mother,” Tamlin suddenly gasps out, eyes wide with realisation. The cogs in his brain are shifting rapidly as everything starts to fall into place. “I must restore the Spring Court to its former glory before the Rot destroys it completely.” ‘And me along with it’ was what he didn’t say.

“Congrats! You figured it out.” Juno applauded him. In her hand is a thin, rectangular object; her eyes are glued to it. “And it looks like I’ll be helping you out.”

Tamlin immediately scoffs. “I’ve paid the price of needing a mortal’s help,” That’s an overflowing can of worms he never wants to open. “I don’t need anyone’s help. Least of all, you.”

Juno simply hums; his ire sluices off her like water. “Yeah, no, that’s gonna fly with dear, old Mother,” Tamlin bristles, but she continues, “Like I said, I’m familiar with this schtick: The MC falls into a fictional world, gets caught up with the drama, and the only way to go back home is to help solve said drama with some OP powers or whatever. So face it, Legolas Wannabe, your Mother brought me - a puny human - to this shit hole to help you.”

“Just like Amarantha’s curse.” Tamlin replied bitterly.

“Hey, I’m way better than Fry-Her-Face Feyre, alright!?” Juno counters, affronted. She spread her arms as if to prove a point. “I’ll definitely beat your ass if you even think about pulling your old shits again. So! Have we got a Bargain?”

Tamlin narrowed a piercing gaze at her. “You should know better than to strike up a Bargain with me. What? You couldn’t have forgotten what it entails. Not with all your hatred of this world.”

“I didn’t actually read the books. Just picked up enough bits and pieces from mutuals and online posts to get the entire gist of it,” Juno admits without shame. For a moment, Tamlin wondered how someone could hate something so passionately without even properly engaging with it. “You’re right, though; let’s not do a suicide pact. We actually have common sense, unlike some people. So… how are we going to do this?”

“I cannot think of any reasons why you’ve heard the Mother’s voice,” Tamlin ran a hand down his exhausted face. “If the Fates has truly bound us together then… then I will adhere to her words. I will do whatever it takes to stop the Rot. Restore the Spring Court, and you will be helping me every step out of the way. Once it’s over…”

Juno easily jumps in. “Then the opportunity or pathway that can get me home should open up!” She thrust her hand towards him, a pleased grin curling her lips. “I got some ideas on where we can start. You’re in?”

“Tell me more about the books, and I’ll hear you out,” Tamlin demanded, and with nothing else to do, he clasped her hand with his. They’ve sealed the deal. For better or worse, the two of them are in this together now—a human from a world beyond he could ever comprehend and an exiled High Lord who has become Prythian number 1 pariah.

“Oh, I’m gonna dump so many shits on you that you’re gonna regret that sooner than later.” Juno smirks. “Now then, let’s go to your manor. We can start there.”

The annual High Lord meeting hosted by Helion was a success more than any of them would ever know. Except for Juno and Tamlin, of course.

After her friendly chat with Feyre, Juno made no detours and headed straight to where her ‘Mate’ was - hanging out with Tarquin at one of Helion’s more publicly accessible libraries. When she found the two High Lords, they were conversing near the lit fireplace. A cosy atmosphere sets around them like a warm blanket on a winter’s morning. Juno would’ve loved to join them (steal any opportunity to talk to Tarquin since he’s her favourite character among the barrel of proverbial rotten apples), but she and Tamlin need to return home so they can plan their next move.

“Hm? Oh!” It’s Tarquin who notices her first when she enters the room. His blue eyes are akin to the loveliest sapphires, and they light up when she approaches them. “Juno, right? It’s very nice to meet you; I’m Tarquin. The current High Lord of the Summer Court.” He pushes himself off his chair to shake her hand—ever the perfect gentleman.

“Same here,” Juno replies, her voice soft, almost shy. A dramatic contrast when she was talking to Feyre. Internally, she giggles like a high school girl who has been acknowledge by her crush. “Thanks for keeping Tamlin busy. His bark is worse than his bite nowadays, don’t worry.”

Tamlin, in his defence, silently sneers at her.

Tarquin cocks an eyebrow as he stares at him and then back to Juno. He wisely kept whatever thoughts he had to himself. “I don’t know about that, but Tamlin has been an excellent company. He was kind enough to share the foundations of this ‘democracy’ that you spoke about during our meeting. Will you reveal your plans about the new form of governing system in the Spring Court?”

Not so much as spoke but more of dropping a bomb on the High Lords and their Mates’ heads. Juno purposely gave details of the barest bones within 10 minutes, enough to get everyone curious yet leave room for doubts. It took everything in her not to laugh when Beron was the first one to fall for it. But since this is Tarquin…

“Everything will unfold in due time,” Tamlin answered for her instead. He casts a knowing look at Juno. She might rant a lot about how terrible the Court series is, from the author to the very cartography of the world, but she also ‘simps’ a lot about Tarquin and Nesta. Her… bias. “I believe the changes that will be happening in the Spring Court would serve as great references to you in the future.”

(When you’re forced to work together with someone in close quarters for an indefinite amount of time, It’s unreal how quickly Tamlin could decipher her otherworldly phrases, slang and words to the point that he’s semi-fluent when it comes to her manner of speech.)

Tarquin inclines his head. “I will look forward to it.” He suddenly hesitated for a moment before genuine happiness overtook him. “I hope I’m not overstepping when I say this: I’m glad to see you back to your old self again, Tamlin.”

The High Lord of the Spring Court searches for any mockery from Tarquin (steadfastly ignoring how his ‘Mate’ is vibrating out of control and is in the process of cutting the blood circulation off in his arm via clenching), and when he finds none, Tamlin is oddly humbled and embarrassed. It was Tarquin who sought him out after the meeting. It was Tarquin who suggested they relocate to the library when he noticed how tense Tamlin’s shoulders were when eyes followed him into the dining hall. It was Tarquin who was the only one among them who treated him as a fellow High Lord instead of as a traitor of war or a mindless beast.

“The old Tamlin died when my Court fell into ruin - ” Tamlin says after a while. His voice is thick with emotion.

“I’m sorry, the old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now - “ Juno interjects underneath her breath, snickering. Tarquin tilts his head, confused.

Tamlin gently elbowed her for the interruption. “Shut it, peanut gallery. As I was saying, it’s better that the old me is dead. Spring is about rebirth, and it’s time I follow suit.”

“Very poignant,” Tarquin replies with a smile. Changes are always heralded by Spring, and he’s glad to see that its High Lord is taking the helm once again. “Then I wish nothing but the best for you and your Mate, Tamlin. May the two of you always be happy.”

“You’re so sweet!” Juno suddenly blurts out, unable to hold back any longer. This beautiful Fae needs to be protected at all costs! “You totally don’t deserve the bullshits from Rice Fail and his Inner Cave. The fucking audacity of those Zionists to trespass into your Court, steal your shit, destroy your building and then reprimand you when you confronted them!? Not to mention how the two of them argued like fucking toddlers over who’s the most jealous, and-and how dare Fugly Fucker use you! You! One of the few things that SJM did right in this world! And can we talk about how if those motherfuckers just talked to you about that damn Books, you’d have easily negotiated with them? What the fuck!? None of them are fit to rule! Oh, and “She’s the High Lady of the Night Court; she can do what wishes” Bitch!? You guys were in the Summer Court! What does that have to do with anything!? Is accountability a word they’re allergic to!? If I was you, I’d - ”

Juno’s mouth is immediately muffled tight by Tamlin’s broad hand.

“She’s your biggest fan,” Tamlin apologises through gritted teeth while Tarquin is utterly taken aback with his eyes wide open. “Don’t pay her any mind.”

“How… How do you - “ Tarquin splutters. Why does she know the exact conversation that transpired between him, Rhysand and Feyre!?

“I’m afraid we must be going now. It was a pleasure, Lord Tarquin.” Tamlin smoothly interrupted. With a glaring Juno in his arms, he Winnowed the two of them back to the Spring Court. Back to the entrance of his manor, which is still under construction.

“What happened to you promising to behave when we’re in the Day Court?” Tamlin demanded once he released the human female. It’s quiet just as they left for the meeting, but now, the night sky greets them with twinkling stars overhead.

“The crimes committed against Tarquin by that shitty ass Court are fucking disgusting.” Juno scoffs with disdain. Without waiting for him, she stepped through the newly repaired doors, and Tamlin rolled his eyes. He follows her stride.

“You realise that he’s probably scared of you now, right?” Tamlin dryly says as the two head deeper. Although it’s been a few months since the two of them started rebuilding the manor, there were still some parts of the area that are in ruins, and the two just can’t move the large rubbles and crumbled hallways all on their own (“What are those muscles for if you can’t lift a simple rock, human!?”, “I work as a dancer you insensitive, fuck! I’m not used to this kind of physical labour!). Still, they have running water, working plumbing and kitchen and a roof above their heads. It will have to do for now. His family home is a shell of its former glory, but after talking to Tarquin, a blooming part of him is excited to start everything from scratch. To create a home where no ghosts of the past or painful memories haunt the walls. “Was there a point to your word dumping on the High Lord of the Summer Court?”

They’re now in the kitchen. Juno perches herself onto one of the high stools, her face scrunched up. “God, you sound like a fucking boomer. Wait, you’re way older than that generation. You’re, what, 500 something? You should be in a museum.” She says, distracted as she rummages through her make-up case.

“I don’t know what that word means.” Tamlin snaps, though there’s no heat behind it. He’d learned that her ire is solely reserved for the Night Court, so whatever else comes out from her mouth is either empty insults or rambles. He rounds the table to heat the stove. He had given Juno what little money he had left from the treasury for grocery and supply shopping this week, and for his part, he became the designated cook and rationed whatever his partner could buy.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Fine. Now, did you get everything you needed from the meeting?”

Juno looks up from her self-appointed task for the evening: Removing her acrylic nails. A broad smirk transforms her unremarkable face into that of a cruel goddess. “Everything and then some. I got to hit my newest punching bag, so that’s a bonus!”

“Right…” Tamlin grimaced when an unknown scent from Juno’s bottle itched his nose. “Will you now explain why you insisted on following me to attend the meeting? And please tell me it’s not because you just wanted to see Tarquin.” To combat that piercing and irritating scent, Tamlin begins cooking a light dinner.

“Tarquin is everything I imagined him to be,” Juno sighs, a little lovestruck. She giggles to herself when Tamlin tosses a deadpan stare. She then focuses back on her nails. “Nah, but for real, I wanted some insurance. You’re in your Healing Era, Tamlin, and that means our goal is to get you back to full power - mentally, emotionally and physically. It’s your rebirth, remember? And I don’t want anyone from the other Courts to interfere with that.”

The word rebirth continues to strike Tamlin’s core. He’s so exhausted from rage… from grief. He wants to change, but…

“Redemption. Do I even deserve it?”

“Not this again. Rebirth and redemption are two different things, Tamlin. The way I see it, you’ve paid your dues in your own way already. You don’t owe anyone else. You wanna turn your life around? Good. Noble, even. But you gotta do it because YOU want it, not because you’re expected to.”

“I didn’t know that you’re capable of such profound words. It seems that tonight is full of surprises.”

“This bitch! I’m trying to help you feel better!”

“Spare us both and stick to insults instead.”

Because Juno is facing Tamlin’s back, she couldn’t see the tiny grin on his face. The mortal woman has been growing on to him like a moss. He doesn’t know if they’re friends yet, but so far, he enjoys having some company again.

(He misses Lucien.)

“You’re so weird,” Says the literal alien from another world. “While you sort out the remaining bits of your existential crisis, I’m gonna be focusing on the security of the Spring Court. Not a lockdown per se. More like… feeding any unwanted parties some false information.” The last of her black nails clatter on the table. Pleased with the shine of her natural nails, she went over beside Tamlin to wash her hands in the sink before wiping them dry. When Tamlin handed her two plates of simple stir-fried noodles with vegetables, she carried them to the table.

“And how exactly will you be doing that?”

“So… remember what I said when we were in the cave?”

“You have to be specific; I got lost among the venomous spew about the Night Court and the fact that I live in a fictional world.”

“Cute, Tamlin. I meant about how Isekai protagonists are usually given some bullshit OP ability.”

“Elaborate what’s ‘OP’.”

“Urgh, overpowered, you amoeba.”

Tamlin stops eating; his fork hangs in the air. He cautiously asks, “You can wield magic?” He sensed nothing! Absolutely nothing from this human the moment they met.

Juno taps her foot against the floor, contemplating. “I don’t know if it’s magic, but I definitely have something. In fact, it saved my fine ass when you tried to attack me.”

The High Lord remembered as clear as day. He has never been brought to such a pathetic state that every time he tried to attack her, they all missed. A stumble. A mis-aim. A stomach wreck with hunger so bad that he could barely stand upright. A disgraceful performance as a warrior. Was it truly because of his weakened state? Tamlin’s pride wanted it to be otherwise, but the more logical part of him warned him that the unknown was a lot worse. “What did you do?”

For the first time since they met, Juno looks… scared and for some reason, Tamlin’s heartstrings twist. “Ok, don’t freak out. I sorta… control which actions you would take among the many possibilities. And time froze too when I was picking them, so that’s cool.”

“You… controlled my actions?” Tamlin repeats slowly.

She sighs and leans back against the chair, arms folded across her chest. “This is an ability that I’ve seen in Blazblue and Umeniko. Let me try my best to explain it to you in the simplest way since it’s quite abstract in theory. I’ll give you a scenario: Aelin wakes up. She’s sitting at the dining table, about to have breakfast. In front of her is a pancake and a bowl of porridge - two possibilities. She picked the pancakes, but I chose the porridge. The world corrects her actions, and without her knowing, she’s cleaning that porridge bowl.”

Tamlin’s jaw is now hanging, and understanding sinks in. “You can change the Fates themselves.”

“In a way. When you launched at me first, time stopped. I could see 4 other possible actions - you would lob my head clean from that jump. The second possibility was you thrusting a claw at my abdomen, tearing out my entrails. The third is you using your sharp teeth, tearing out my neck. The fourth, now this is interesting, was you stumbling after launching at me. So I picked that instead and did the same for the rest of your murderous attempts.”

Juno could control Tamlin. Just like -

A crash. A shout. Precious minutes vanished from Tamlin.

“ - keep it a secret. No, no - keeping such an OP power as a secret is usually the fastest route to the Bad Ending. Like hell would I follow those YA and Manhwa heroines. Fuck! I can’t remember what you’re supposed to do when someone is having a panic attack. Not touch them? Talk them through it? Uh, Tamlin? Tamlin, can you hear me? At least you’re not blindly lashing out, so that’s good. I hope you can listen to me because I promise you - I swear it, OK? - that I won’t ever mess with you like that.”

“How could I possibly trust you?” Tamlin rasped, his eyes are dull. He struggles to ground himself once more, but when he slowly comes to his senses, he finds himself slumped on the floor. The table is flipped, and their dinner is scattered on the floor with bits and pieces of the porcelain plate. “When you’re the second coming of Amarantha.”

Kneeling at a good distance from him, Juno is insulted. Still scared but uncharacteristically solemn. “How can I assure you, Tamlin? A Bargain? Some kind of blood oath? I don’t know what’s available in this world that can make you trust me.”

Tamlin heard stories about the gods when he was still a Youngling. How they are callous, indifferent, and so easily bored by the monotony of life. How it’s considered an honour, a great blessing to be chosen by them. Hah. Tamlin has lived long enough to understand that being unnoticed by heartless divinities is a true blessing.

It’s mind-shattering to realise that Juno is a young god masquerading as a human to stave off the boredom. One that is still growing, still coming into her divinity - a petulant, playful god with venom running in her veins and hatred burning her forever warm. This is who the Mother invoked as a symbol of salvation for Tamlin.

“Will you use your powers on me?”

“Only for your best interest,” Juno admits. “I’m planning on taking the role of a Support Class whenever you’re in a fight. The books claimed that you’re a powerful High Lord - but not as strong as Rice Failure, tch - and I believe it. But just in case, I can make sure that you won’t encounter any close calls or nasty surprises. Plus, I’m not a healer, but if you’re badly injured on the battlefield and, god forbid, no one can get to you in time, I can just replace your body with another version of Tamlin who is strong, whole and not exhausted by the fight.”

He listens, and he processes everything that this capricious creature says. It’s unfathomable.

Silence stretches between the two. Juno is at a loss; for the first time in her life, she desperately wants to convey her most sincere feelings to another person (other than her bestie and parents) and has no idea how, while Tamlin is painfully aware that there’s really nothing that can stop her from turning every living creature in this world into her playthings.

“I need some time to think about this.” Mother, he suddenly has the urge to get rip-roaring drunk just so he can escape for more than a few minutes. “Are you going to dictate what I’ll do next?”

Juno grins. It’s utterly plastic. “I don’t care about you enough as a character to control every aspect of your life, Tamlin.”

Trust is a fickle thing. In Tamlin’s case, who is a Fae, he could only take Juno’s words as a form of trust. How ironic.

He pushes himself up, choosing not to comment when she flinches. He needs to change his skin and, maybe later, find some leftover bottle of wine or whiskey. Just as he was about to exit the kitchen, he paused and asked without turning around. “Who did you play with?” The implication is clear during Juno’s explanation.

“A vertically challenged hag.”

#lady writes #fanfic #acotar #anti ic #anti sjm #modern girl in prythian au #pro tamlin

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serpentandlily · 7 months

Text

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Untouchable - Azriel x Reader

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Wicked Games - Batboys x Reader

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥Part III

➻❥ Halloween Special

Summary: Desperate to pay off a debt, you decide to break into the penthouse of one of Prythian’s richest males, one rumored to make his money in a less than legal way. But after witnessing something you weren’t supposed to, you find yourself caught in a wicked game of cat and mouse with three of the most dangerous males in Prythian. (Modern AU!)

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

𝓞𝓷𝓮-𝓢𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓼 & 𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼

fluff ☀︎ angst ☾ smut ♡

Request guidelines

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

𝓐𝔃𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓵

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Scared to be Happier - Azriel x Reader ☾ ♡

No Going Back - Azriel x Reader (Part I) ☾

↠ Now That We Don’t Talk (Part II) ☾

Mystique - Azriel x Reader ☀︎

Arcane - Azriel x Reader ☀︎

The Crow's Poet - Azriel x Reader ☀︎

The Shadowsinger's Secret - Azriel x Reader ☾☀︎

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

𝓡𝓱𝔂𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓭

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Falling Apart for You - Rhysand x Reader ☾ ☀︎

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

𝓔𝓻𝓲𝓼

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Reader ☾ ☀︎

Last Solstice - Eris x Reader ☾ ☀︎

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓬

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Butterfly Fly Away - Batboys x Platonic!Reader ☾ ☀︎

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thisblogisaboutabook · 4 months

Text

Headcanon

~Introducing Azriel to a modern world~

You are a world walker and bring Azriel to your modern fae world. Shenanigans occur.

The Internet

- Upon arriving to your world Azriel was suspicious as hell of you. You knew SO much and could figure out so many things without even leaving your apartment.

- Literally, he pouted. This male who had mastered the art of unreadable facial expressions sat on the couch, arms crossed, brows furrowed, pouting.

- You had to convince him to open up to you (which was not easy, btw) by straddling his lap and teasing him with flirty kisses all over his face and neck.

- “You’re a spy.” He finally mutters.

- Completely taken back by THAT gem of a statement you reply, “Azriel, I cannot shut up to save my life and you think I could be quiet enough to be a spy?”

- “Then how did you know which restaurant location to go to based on the amount of people there during the specific hour we were going? Who gives you that intel?”

- “Oh honey” You try to keep a neutral expression but your traitorous lips twitch upward. “The internet. It’s called the internet. You can find so much information on there.”

- After you’d explained the concept of Google to him, the first thing he tried searching was “Is Beron Vanserra allied with the Queens on the continent?”

- Resisting the urge to become this emoji (🤦🏻‍♀️) you placed a loving hand on his shoulder. “Let’s sign you up for a beginner computer class, babe”

- The first thing he properly searched was “advanced snowball fighting techniques”

Airplanes

- You knew he was competitive but he took it to a new level when he found out about airplanes.

- Why would we ever need to take one when he could just fly us himself?

- “Oh, because they’re faster? I’ll believe that when I see it.”

- That was a direct quote from his mouth

- The day you took him to the airport so he could see for himself that they were indeed very fast, he took off without warning, trying to race one.

- He had to shroud himself in shadows and sneak home afterward as the aerial force mistook him for an enemy.

- The plane won.

Vibrators (NSFW)

- Azriel is a certified freak. Always down to try anything new in the bedroom.

- Until you introduced him to vibrators.

- “Why is that necessary when my fingers, mouth, cock, and shadows can achieve the same result?”

- Honestly, he had a point.

- You gave him the excuse of “For when you return to Prythian on missions and I’m lonely.”

- That made more sense to him but….

- He’s still very competitive.

- You had to do a trial of what could bring you to completion first: Him or the toy.

- Azriel won 😈

———————————————————-

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to see more headcanons of Az in the modern world - lmk!

#sarah j maas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #azriel #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #lunathion #azriel x reader headcanons #acotar headcanon #headcanon #shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #maasverse

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the-lonelybarricade · 27 days

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LB my dear dear! I have devoured all yours and MB's ao3 works till date ❤️🤌 and I am feeling pathetically ravenous for more 🫠. Although my question is- since I have seen people asking you for suggestions as to which blog and which writer to look to for more feysand/elucien content I would like to request the same only and only if you are comfortable and have the time for this pressing request. And thank you even if you couldn't for some reason im only scared since you are busy and wouldnt want to burden you with such an exigent task. . I'm sorry to bother you That would be it 🥺 👉👈

You want blog suggestions for Elucien/Feysand authors? And you think you're bothering me??? Anon, this happens to be my exact area of exertise and there is nothing love more than hyping up my friends!

To kick us off my lovely friend @velidewrites is an extraordinarily talented writer and artist, and also just an all-around ray of sunshine whose blog I cannot recommend enough.

There's also @writtenonreceipts who's every work is literal potery. Pick any of her stroies and you will come undone.

@belabellissima has a beautiful Feysand/Elucien series called the State of Grace and is also one of my favorite people 🥺💝

@azrielshadowssing also regularly feeds us with delciioiusly sinful Feysand and Elucien stories 🥰 hehehe definitely read the tags though!

Among a host of other incredible fics, @damedechance has an onlyfans series that will make you feral - Playgirl (Elucien) and darling.exe (Feysand) 👀👀 Come back to me once you finish losing your mind

@xtaketwox and @itsthedoodle come as Feysand/Elucien pair hehe. @xtaketwox has treated us to lots of goodies, but I wanted to highlight her modern soulmate AU which has a dedicated work for Feysand, Elucien, and Nessian! @itsthedoodle has written so many beautiful feysand oneshots and is the sweetest, most unhinged person you'll ever have the pleasure of knowing.

@asnowfern is so talented and writes for a lot of different pairings, including Feysand and Elucien! Right now she's working on a stunning Feysand AU inspired by a chinese legend called Till Forever Falls Apart

if you're a fan of next-gen, @areyoudreaminof has lots of adorable fics and headcanons centering around Elucien and Feysand as parents!

@witch-and-her-witcher again writes for many couples, including Feysand and Elucien! She recently wrote a Feysand and Nyx oneshot, The Little Tiger, that completely fractured my heart and put it back together.

@thegloweringcastle is another extremely talented writer who has a wealth of feysand and elucien fics! One I really love is the The Law of the Land which is a Feysand western AU with background Elucien 🤠

@darling-archeron has been in this fandom since 2016 and in that time has blessed us with so much wonderful Feysand and Elucien content!! (One day you really need to sit us all down and tell us the fandom lore we all missed out on from the acomaf/acowar releases 👀)

@iambutmortal has a lot of delicious Feysand and Elucien stories! For Elucienweek last year she wrote a really addicting story called The Honeymooners

@labellefleur-sauvage has written so many incredible Elucien fics! As well as a very delicious monster!Feyre fic called Meet Me In the Woods hehehe 👀

@foundress0fnothing always blows me away with her writing. For Elucienweek last year she wrote an Elucien sex cult fic titled Both Forever and Rather Die that lives in my head rent free.

@howlingcaptaincommando is working on a really amazing pirate AU, Never Shall I Die, centering around Elucien, Nessian, and Feysand!

@vulpes-fennec has so many lovely stories, including her Prythian Fantasia WIP which centers on the Archeron sisters and their mates 😍

@popjunkie42 has yet to dip her toes into writing Elucien but maybe one day we can convince her 👀👀 That said she has so many amazing Feysand works such as Hate Me Instead and her current WIP Blossoming In Winter.

Likewise my dearest friend @wilde-knight has only written Elucien and Nessian, but I can't recommend her works and blog enough!! She's working on an amazing Princess Bride AU called Burnished Gold

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship is a die-hard Feysand, Elucien, Gwynriel, and Nessian! Currently they're working on a Feysand fic Five Minutes to Midnight which also features background Elucien!

@octobers-veryown creates so many wonderful moodboards for variuos ships and characters! I cannot recommend following them enough💕

And finally @rosanna-writer, @reverie-tales, @thesistersarcheron, and @starfall-spirit are my multishipping queens 🥰 On their blogs you'll find wonderful content for Feysand, Elriel, Elucien, and other ships as well!

#Oh god if I'm missing someone I'm so sorry #I got distracted so many times while making this #And now I'm just ready to yeet this task into the sun lmaooo #fic recs #elucien fic #feysand fic #elucien #feysand

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lunamond · 20 days

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The argument that the switch-up between Tamlin and Rhysand as love interests was SJM making a clever commentary on the inherently problematic nature of the Beauty and the Beast tale is actually really annoying to me.

I'm absolutely not above being critical of this story.

However, just because there are problematic aspects in the foundational version of this story doesn’t mean that modern iterations automatically possess these as well.

So let's look at how modern retellings deal with the most commonly criticised element of the story: the kidnapping.

For me personally, the most important thing to look at when judging how "problematic" the kidnapping in any given Beauty and the Beast story is, is to look at what the actual power dynamics at play are.

Most of these stories tend to feature some inherent power imbalance between the Beauty and the Beast characters. However, most retellings also feature a curse/curser who puts pressure on the Beast to kidnap Beauty in the first place. This means there is always some kind of higher power/authority who holds significant power over the Beast as well.

In the og Fairytale version, we have a scorned Fae/Witch who curses the Beast. The stakes for the Beast are to find a woman, make her fall in love with him, or stay a Beast forever.

How much this gives the Beast a pass for the crime of kidnapping is, of course, sth each person has to decide for themself.

However, most modern retellings tend to significantly increase the severity of the conditions and consequences of said curse, often times putting many lives outside of the Beast's own at stake.

This increase in stakes, at least for me, significantly impacts how much I condemn the actions of the Beast character.

We see this in the Disney version were all the people living and working in the castle were turned into animate objects and risk turning inanimate once the time-limit for the curse runs out, which is essentially a child friendly way of saying that they will all die.

In the YA novel Cruel Beauty (which I already compared to Acotar in an older post), the Beast character is forced to take a new bride every century. Due to the specifics of the curse, the safety of an entire country is dependent on his compliance with the conditions put on him. So, despite the fact that he initially appears much more powerful than the Beauty character, they are essentially both stuck under the same curse.

The first Acotar book works the same way. Tamlin kidnaps Feyre, not because he wants to but because the conditions of the curse put not just the fate of the SC but of the entirety of Prythian at stake.

That's, of course, not to say that this isn't a violent experience for Feyre and her family. But it does mean that Tamlin isn't the instigator of this violent act, but the person responsible for the curse, aka Amarantha.

The attempt to turn this into a subversion of the BnB story by revealing Tamlin as a violent and abusive partner becomes incredibly frustrating, because most of the violent undertone present in the 1st book, that fans like to point towards as an early sign of his future abusive behaviors are not caused by Tamlin himself but by Amarantha (and her batwinged lackey).

But SJM's attempt is especially nonsensical because Feyre's new romance with Rhysand is just a worse version of BnB.

I am aware that the second book, Acomaf, is most commonly marketed as a Hades/Persephone retelling.

But here is the thing; the modern interpretation of Hades/Persephone as a romance is much more akin to the story of Beauty and the Beast than the hymn to Demeter (the og source text featuring the myth of Hades/Persephone), which as the title suggests is much more concerned with the feelings of grief and rage a mother feels in response to her daughter's abduction than anything else.

So, let's judge Feysand's story with the same standards we just used for other modern BnB retellings.

Immediately, we run into the issue that Rhysand doesn't have a higher power above him forcing him to kidnap Feyre (unless you want to count the mating bond, but that is clearly meant to be seen as a positive so that doesn't really work, Amarantha doesn't count either).

However, it gets worse.

He is the one who forces the bargain on Feyre, ensuring she has to spend 1 week in the NC for the rest of her life. When he later kidnaps her, he is fulfilling the curse he himself put on her.

In this version, the Beast character, Rhysand, is not the cursed but the curser. So he is at once the kidnapper AND the higher power enforcing the curse/the cause for the kidnapping.

In a direct comparison between the way Tamlin and Rhysand each fullfill the Beast role, it becomes pretty apparent how utterly SJM's supposed criticism of the BnB story has failed; Tamlin kidnaps Feyre because he is forced to, Rhysand does because he WANTS to.

#anti feysand #anti acomaf #anti rhysand #anti sjm #acotar #feyre archeron #pro tamlin

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fuckyeselucien · 23 days

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Creator Highlight #1 - @areyoudreaminof

ntroducing Elucien Creator Highlights! There are so many talented people in our fandom, and we wanted to take a moment to shine a spotlight on people who so kindly lend their time and effort into sharing their amazing creations with us!

Today's spotlight is on @areyoudreaminof a member of our community who, if you've never interacted with, is one of the nicest people around. If you haven't read one of her fics, you've likely seen the playlists for characters and ships floating around! Of course we adore the Golden Hour Elucien playlist, but you can find many more for all your favorite ACOTAR characters.

Thank you for all that you do! We've highlighted a few of our favorite Elucien pieces, but this is just a small portion of the amazing work that Areyoudreaming of has shared with this fandom. We encourage you to check out Areyoudreamingofs masterlist to see more!

Future Rust and Future Dust: While Elain and Lucien have settled into their relationship on the mortal lands, time is running out for Vassa. When Koschei comes for the firebird queen, he also wants his payment. Meanwhile, Beron Vanserra has worked with the Mortal Queens and Koschei for power in Prythian. With the clock ticking, can Koschei and Beron be defeated?

Hovre Corte: On her own self-imposed exile, Elain finds herself in the human lands to offer help to the Band of Exiles and try to make some progress with her estranged mate. Lucien, meanwhile, can’t quite find his footing with Elain. With the clock ticking, can they finally come to an understanding?

I'll Take You To The Boba Shop: A Modern AU in which Elain and Lucien have a date in a Boba Tea Shop

#elucien #pro elucien #creator highlight #FuckyesElucien

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works-of-heart · 29 days

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I don't get it.

Like seriously, I honestly don't understand it.

Sjm says that Elain was someone who she and Lucien didn't see coming. She had always envisioned him with Nesta, but realized they'd tear each other apart (not in a good way, as she loves that kind of banter, but theirs would be awful). She mentions 'without getting too spoilery' that and I quote:

"there was actually a great deal of tension, growth, and healing to be found for both of them (together)"

You mean to tell me, that she says there is a great deal of tension (which we've all been seeing between them), growth and healing for them TOGETHER ONLY to have Elain break her bond with him and leave him to suffer a broken bond?

You want to tell me that SJM planned to have Elain become Lucien's mate, so they could grow and heal together, only for her to dump him and choose Azriel, and leave Lucien alone with a broken bond?

This woman, who has written Lucien as kind, patient, understanding, and truly concerned for Elain, is planning on making his mate turn away from him? This man who is said to be fiercely loyal, who could have ANY woman in Prythian he wanted but has no interest in any females, who has suffered physical and emotional trauma to help his friends. You think Sarah is just going to be like "Yeah, I'm going to put Lucien with a girl who is all around perfect for him and just take her away so she can run into the arms of another man!"

Look, I torture my precious babies too, but that?! That's INSANE to me that anyone thinks Sarah planned to set him up with a mate and said all those things if she planned for it to be a failure.

Especially since she made a comment, unprompted mind you, about an Elucien date where they go visit the gardens in London, before heading out to the countryside, stating that they're BOTH happy in nature. So she's going to talk about Feysand, Nessien modern dating, and just throw in Elucien even though she doesn't even plan for them to be together?

it simply doesn't make any sense to me.

Like take a moment, to actually sit down and think, why would this author say those kinds of things if she as some had said "planned Elriel since MAF" when she literally states the opposite. She confirmed Nessien in that same moment as well, because the series was originally supposed to finish. Az and Elain didn't have anything together, they were never planned. She didn't change from that trajectory either (as stated in her interview that I guess people want to misquote, forget, or take her words completely out of context).

SJM did say there were SMALL changes, like some characters had been added (which I suspect are Gwyn and Em), Mor's sexual orientation, but the overall arch was still the same.

Honestly, here's what I think about that.

Azriel was always meant to have a mate. A lot of people pointed out that in MAF there was a lot of Moriel hints and they were meant to be endgame. When she got backlash for lack of LGBT representation, she just decided to have Mor's preference shift. I think it left Az without a mate, but by the time SF came around she began to leave breadcrumbs for who he'd end up with. That being Gwyn.

I personally think SJM wants Gwynriel so much so, that she retconned Az's backstory so he was the one at Sangravah. That he killed everyone in site, leaving none left alive (completely OOC for Az, yet fitting with mate behavior). Like if she had no intention for Az to be connected to her in such a way, why actively make HIM the one to save her? Why make it so that Az killed everyone and left not a single person alive?

Why did she have his shadows react to her in a very specific way, a way that's calm and happy? The way they sing and dance to her, reaching out to her in a playful way. Why would she change history and put attention on these things, if there was never any future for them? What, so we can see Az fall for Elain? You mean Sarah went out of her way to change parts of Az's story and how his shadows react specifically to Gwyn, just so he can turn from her and rush into the arms of Elain? Why bother?

And before anyone says "lightsinger" and Gwyn's 'evil powers' are causing Az's shadows to dance and sing... there's a whole bonus chapter where Az's shadows dance to Azriel's singing. Gwyn isn't even there, so that's debunked.

That's all, I just had to get that off my chest. I keep seeing so many people rant and say that SJM's old editor pushed for Elucien and her new one is pushing Elriel because it's more 'popular' and she's going in this new direction now. I have no idea where that came from when she said that nothing's changed from her drunken rant, so we'll see I guess.

#elucien #elucien supremacy #pro lucien vanserra #pro elucien #elain x lucien #pro gwynriel #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn x azriel

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fuckyesfeysand · 10 days

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Creator Highlight #3 - @reverie-tales

Welcome back to Feysand Creator Highlights!! We want to take a moment to recognize the amazing individuals in our fandom who kindly use up so much of their freetime and creative energy to share their work with us!

Today we want to highlight @reverie-tales

If you've ever had the pleasure of interacting with reverie-tales, you know that she is the sweetest human being to possibly ever exist. And the chances rae high that you have interacted with her, because if you check the comments of almost any feysand work, the chances are high that you'll find her there with supportive comment for its creator.

Reverie-tales has made an art out of spreading kindness and positivity in this fandom and today we want to take all of the light she radiates and send it back on her for a change!

Because on top of being an exceptionally sweet person, she is also extremely talented!! Reverie-tales has blessed us with a wealth of Feysand stories that will fill your heart to bursting and make you grab some tissues. We've highlighted a few of our favorites below!

I Get to Love You - This is the story of a male who loved his mate, his High Lady, and the mother of his child, told from his perspective. A glimpse of selected events mentioned in ACOSF from Rhysand's POV. Three chapters that can be individually read as one-shots.

Starlight -Every night Feyre, a star above the Prythian sky, wholeheartedly shines her light, looking forward to watching her Prince of Night below—that is, until unexpected trouble finds her. (A Stardust AU)

Paint Again - Set in a modern alternate universe, Feyre is struggling to paint because of her grief. That is, until she receives an unexpected email that reawakens her love of painting.

You can also find more on her masterlist!

#feysand #creator highlight #fanfic #fuckyesfeysand

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epochofbelief · 3 months

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Strictly Confidential: A Feysand Modern AU

She's a law student turned confidential informant. He's a federal prosecutor with only one goal: bringing down her boyfriend for illegal activity . . . What could go wrong?

Chapter Two

Masterlist Link

Thanks for your patience, everyone. Here's chapter two! Things are going to start happening very soon. I'm very excited. Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! Just a heads up, there were a few who requested to be tagged whose profiles wouldn't let me link them!

PS: Here's the link to the masterlist of one of my other full-length Feysand fics: What to Expect When You're (Not) Expecting

Happy Reading :)

-----

Feyre turned to locate the source of the voice and came face to face with the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

He was tall, taller than Jax, his all-black suit impeccably tailored to the contours of a lean but muscular body. His dark hair matched his suit, and eyes a peculiar shade of blue—almost violet—locked onto Feyre for a moment before the man turned his attention to Jax.

“You’ve been monopolizing Ms. Archeron’s time, Smith,” the man said, arms crossing over his chest, muscles shifting beneath the fabric.

“Rhysand,” Jax sneered. “We were just having a friendly conversation.”

The man—Rhysand—raised one dark eyebrow, moving closer. As he stepped into the alcove, the space grew smaller. Like Rhysand's very presence couldn’t possibly be contained by the shadowy corner of the event center.

“Be that as it may,” Rhysand said, stepping up to Feyre’s side and staring down at Jax. “I believe my father is looking for you.”

The blood drained from Jax’s face, his head whipping toward the center part of the room.

“It seemed urgent,” Rhysand drawled, adjusting one of his cuff links. “And we all know how much my father despises being kept waiting.”

Jax turned back around to glare at Rhysand, his eyes flicking back down to Feyre as he inched backward toward the event center. “Until we meet again, Feyre.”

Feyre barely had time to flash him a close-lipped smile before Jax whirled around and bolted out of the alcove.

Feyre swallowed, turning toward her savior, once again struck by his beauty as he gazed at her, his violet blue eyes searching hers.

“I owe you one,” Feyre breathed, leaning back against the wall behind her, partially due to relief at escaping Jax and partially because she needed to put some space between her and the beautiful man standing mere inches away.

Rhysand lifted a shoulder, taking a step back, as if he could sense her need for space. “Jax Smith is . . . Well, let’s just say I eagerly await the day he gives me a reason to report him to the Office of Discipline for an ethical violation.”

“You should’ve given him a few more minutes. He might have gotten there,” Feyre said. Rhysand blinked, and then Feyre clapped her hands over her mouth.

“Oh, my gods. I—I should not have said that.” She muttered, squeezing her eyes shut. Gods, she was stupid. And unprofessional.

But a soft chuckling had Feyre freezing where she stood against the wall, eyes fluttering open.

Rhysand was even more attractive when laughing. His blue eyes twinkled, and he extended a hand in her direction.

“Rhysand Night,” he said, hand warm against Feyre’s as she took it. “United States Attorney for the Eastern District of Erilea.”

“Feyre Archeron,” Feyre said. “I’m a 3L at Prythian Law, but I’ll be starting at Hybern & Night next year.”

Rhysand's brows lifted. "Impressive."

Feyre shrugged. “You said your last name is Night,” she ventured, arms folding across her chest. “But you don't work for Hybern & Night?”

Rhysand ran a hand through his silky hair, fingers slipping through the inky black strands. Feyre's eyes tracked the motion so closely that she almost missed what he said next.

“The ‘Night’ in Hybern & Night is my father, and I suppose my grandfather before him,” he admitted, and Feyre could have sworn his jaw tightened at the words. “But no, I don’t work for his firm. I’m much better suited for federal prosecution.”

Something in his voice told Feyre that wasn’t the sole reason Rhysand had chosen not to follow his family’s legacy. But she didn’t press the issue.

“How long have you worked as a prosecutor?” Feyre asked.

“About five years,” Rhysand said. “I graduated from Prythian Law in 2018 and worked as a state prosecutor for a year before I landed this job.”

Silence fell, and Feyre drained the last bit of wine from her glass. “Well, thanks for your help,” she said, skirting around Rhysand and aiming for bar. Even as she glanced back over her shoulder at him, as if she couldn't resist a final look.

“Please, let me get you another glass of wine,” he said, following behind her. He kept a respectful distance between them as he fell into step at her side.

Feyre shrugged, even as an odd relief swept through her at his continuing presence. “I’m headed that direction anyways.”

But getting across the room proved more cumbersome than Feyre anticipated—it seemed as though everyone knew Rhysand and his reputation. People were either falling over themselves to shake his hand, eager to congratulate him on a recent case he had just won, or they were glaring at him as he passed, muttering to their companions as soon as Rhysand was out of earshot.

But even the ones who didn’t outright glare, even the ones who seemed desperate to speak with him, seemed to approach him with a certain . . . hesitation. Like interacting with Rhysand was a necessary evil, something they were reluctant to do but did anyway. Perhaps because of his father? Or his reputation?

Feyre made a mental note to do some serious LinkedIn stalking later.

While Feyre desperately wanted another glass of wine, walking across the room with Rhysand gave her plenty of opportunity to network, exactly as she had set out to do in the first place. Rhysand was incredibly polite, introducing her to whatever lawyers crossed his path and drawing Feyre into each of the conversations they pulled him into. And even if the person he introduced her to shook her hand and turned back to Rhysand, intent on engaging him in conversation, Rhysand went out of his way to ask Feyre what she thought about the legal issue or topic they were discussing. Feyre felt herself growing more and more impressed, especially when Rhysand turned all the “congratulations” he received away from himself, emphasizing that he couldn’t do anything without his department and the many interns it employed.

So not only was he incredibly polite, but he was gracious and humble as well.

At last, they made it to the bar, and Rhysand procured two more glasses of wine, slipping a ten-dollar bill into the tip jar as he did so.

“Sorry,” he said, as he and Feyre drifted over to the front of the event center, finding a table to stand at as they sipped their wine.

At some point, Feyre couldn't identify when, an unspoken agreement to stick together had formed between them. She had accepted the glass of wine from Rhysand and followed him to this table without question. Like it was them against the room full of ambitious lawyers, desperate to network their way to the top.

“For what?” Feyre asked.

“Dragging you through all that,” he said, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. “I’m sure that was more networking than you bargained for.”

Feyre shook her head, hair shifting over her shoulders. “It was entertaining.”

“Oh?” Rhysand raised an eyebrow.

“I enjoyed watching you scare the shit out of everyone,” Feyre said, shocked at her own daring even as the words floated into the air between them.

Rhysand barked a laugh, drawing several gazes, the eyes of those nearest to them widening as the United States Attorney chuckled so freely. “You know what? I enjoyed doing it.”

Rhysand smiled at her, and dammit if Feyre didn’t almost swoon at the sight. She opened her mouth to ask him more about his job, perhaps to start figuring out why he was a prosecutor instead of working at his father’s firm, when her phone vibrated in the pocket of her suit. Sighing, she pulled it out, glancing at image glaring up at her.

TAMLIN SPRING flashed across the cracked screen of her iPhone, a picture of him from one of their initial dates on full display. They’d gone on a hike at the Illyrian mountain range about an hour outside of town, and Feyre had snapped this photo when they’d reached the top of their hiking trail, Tamlin smiling in front of a gorgeous overlook, the mountains tall and green behind him, a sparkling river trailing across the bottom.

Feyre hit the power button, setting the phone face down on the table. “Sorry about that,” she said, shooting Rhysand an apologetic smile. “Where were we?”

But Rhysand had gone still as death, his gaze fixed on her overturned phone.

“Rhysand?” Feyre asked.

He still didn’t answer, his violet blue eyes so wide she could see the whites all the way around his irises. “Is something wrong?”

Rhysand blinked, his shoulders loosening, eyes softening so quickly Feyre almost thought she had imagined his strange behavior. “Who was that?” He asked, sipping casually from his wine, gaze slipping coolly over the room in front of them. As though nothing had happened.

“Um… My boyfriend,” Feyre said, figuring it was a harmless enough question. “He must have forgotten I had this event tonight.”

Typical Tamlin. She had told him she would be busy until at least eight, and he had clearly forgotten, or just didn’t care. Of course, if Feyre called him when he was busy at work, she would hear about it for the next two days, be forced to listen to him complain about her “distracting him” while he was doing business.

“I see,” was all Rhysand said.

Feyre asked Rhysand a few more innocuous questions about his job, how he enjoyed Prythian Law, and whether he had any advice for her. Rhysand was just asking her if she’d had the same Criminal Law professor as he did when he was at Prythian when her phone buzzed again.

And then again.

Feyre picked up her phone, sighing as Tamlin’s image blazed on the screen once more. She shot Rhysand an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to take this. It could be an emergency.”

She didn’t wait for Rhysand to respond, instead stepping a few feet away and picking up as quickly as possible. If he called too many times and she didn’t answer, it was just another reason for him to start a fight.

“Feyre. Where the hell are you?”

Feyre frowned. “I’m at that networking event. Remember?”

A long-suffering sigh. “I had a really bad day at work. Can I pick you up now? Take you home? You’re downtown, aren’t you? Probably just a couple blocks away.”

Tamlin almost sounded frantic, more worry than anger seeping into his voice as his words tripped out one after the other.

“Are you all right? What happened?” Feyre asked, pressing her hand against her free ear to drown out the noise of the event. To her left, Rhysand was tracking her every movement, wine glass forgotten on the table in front of him.

“I’m fine. Just need my girl.”

Feyre bit her lip. If she said no… She would never hear the end of it. And she’d met and spoken to plenty of people tonight, hadn’t she? And Rhysand was an excellent new connection to have. Plus, it had been a long day. A nice, long shower sounded divine…

“Alright,” she relented, telling him the name of the event center she was at. She knew it was only a five minute drive from the apartment she shared with Tamlin, so when she hung up, she hurried back over to Rhysand.

“Is everything alright?” Rhysand asked, his deep voice level, almost calculatingly so.

Feyre shrugged, downing the rest of her wine. “It’ll be fine. My boyfriend is on his way home, and offered to pick me up so I don’t have to walk in the dark to get there. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

If only that had been the real reason Tamlin wanted her to come home. Because it was dark, and getting later, and she would have had to walk home alone in her heels and suit through the city streets if he hadn't called. But the lie slipped easily across her tongue—it was simple enough, really. It wasn't the first time she'd lied about the way her boyfriend treated her, and she knew it wouldn't be the last.

Rhysand nodded. “That’s very kind of him.”

Feyre sighed. “Thank you again, for helping me out back there. And introducing me to all those people. It made the night worth it.”

Rhysand nodded, his expression earnest, although bereft of any of the easy smiles he had flashed at her earlier in the evening. “It was my pleasure, Feyre. Perhaps I’ll run into you at another one of these events.”

“Perhaps,” Feyre said, then stiffened as Tamlin’s truck pulled up in front of the building. “That’s him,” she said, shouldering her purse and backpack. “Thanks again, really. Good luck with everything!”

Feyre allowed herself to look back at the event center only once. Not as she strode back through the entrance, nor as she clicked across the sidewalk to the passenger side of Tamlin’s car. Not even when she opened the door and clambered into the enormous truck.

No, she waited until she was safely behind the tinted windows before her eyes found Rhysand.

He was still standing at the table they shared, wineglass half-empty in front of him, his eyes fixed on Tamlin’s truck with hawklike focus, tracking it until Tamlin turned the corner, leaving the event center, and Rhysand, far behind.

------

Tamlin drove like a maniac through the heart of downtown. Feyre doubted he lifted his foot off the gas until he pulled into the parking garage beneath their building. He was out of the car and halfway to the elevator banks by the time Feyre caught up with him, lugging her bags along with her, trying not to exacerbate the blisters on her heels as she struggled to keep up.

“What’s wrong?” She demanded when they finally made it up to their apartment.

Feyre kicked off her heels, dumping all her bags on the ground. Home.

Now if only she could sleep. But instead, she had forty pages of reading to do for her Environmental Law class, and she had a feeling the next hour would be occupied with comforting Tamlin.

“Just a long, horrible day at work,” Tamlin sighed, striding towards her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he tugged her against him.

Feyre bit her lip as she felt him against her—he was already ready for her. She twined her arms over his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his lips.

She knew he loved her, in his own way.

Hadn’t she been the one he called tonight? Wasn't she the one he relied on when things got tough? The one he trusted when times grew more and more trying?

“How are you now?” She breathed as his lips moved against hers, his hands sliding down to her upper thighs. In one swift movement, he had lifted her off the ground and into his arms, pressing her against the wall.

“Better with every passing second,” he growled, lips covering hers once again.

Feyre hummed against him, her lips parting to allow his tongue to sweep in, tracing the seam of her lips before her own tongue tangled with his. Her breaths grew short, and she adjusted herself against him and the wall, Tamlin hissing as she brushed against his hard length. Feyre gasped as he ground against her in return, her fingers digging into the hard muscle of his back.

It had been a very, very long day, Feyre told herself, as Tamlin carried her through the house and laid her down gently on the bed, with a tenderness he only ever showed when he was touching her. He knew exactly when to be gentle with her, and when to give her everything she wanted. It was a sharp contrast to the dynamic they shared at all other times in their relationship.

But here, in their darkened bedroom, the lights of the city shining in through the wall of windows to Feyre’s left . . . Here, Tamlin knew just where to touch her, how to hold her.

And she was putty in his hands.

---------

Feyre broke her vow.

One week after she met Rhysand, she was still doing the same exact thing.

Waking up, going to school, coming home, going to Crossfit, and spending all of her free time with Tamlin and Lucien, who had been present more frequently than usual the past week. And while having Lucien around usually made things more interesting, and it was lovely to have a buffer between her and Tamlin, Feyre couldn’t help but feel relieved when she waved the pair out the door on Friday morning. They had a last-minute business trip somewhere out west, and would be gone until the early hours of Monday morning.

Feyre was looking forward to spending the entire weekend by herself. She already had everything planned out:

Study for most of the day Friday, then go for a walk in the enormous city park before it got too dark. On her way home, she was going to splurge and order takeout, and then spend the rest of her night on the couch, with a bottle of wine in one hand and a book in the other. An actual novel this time, not one of her textbooks.

So after spending a day in the library, Feyre walked the ten minutes from the Law School over to Sangravah Park, her headphones blasting the Pride and Prejudice (1995) soundtrack at top volume.

The park was lovely this time of year—in late September, the summer heat had finally leached away, but the crispness of autumn hadn’t fully set in. Feyre was perfectly comfortable in a pair of leggings and a long sleeve t-shirt, her golden-brown hair tied back in a high ponytail. She set off on her usual route through Sangravah—a three-mile path that took her through her favorite parts of the park. Past the enormous pond, still covered in lilypads, through an enormous copse of willow trees, and past several of the enormous architectural structures that called the park home: the Prythian Art Museum, a sculpture garden, and an enormous temple-like building that sat in the center of another pond, no way to reach it unless you wanted to swim.

For the first time in a while, Feyre felt like she could relax. She didn’t have to be anywhere, to do anything, at any time. Tamlin was hundreds of miles away and she was at her leisure.

Lost in thought, Feyre was about halfway through her route when a man jogging in the opposite direction clipped her shoulder with his.

Feyre almost went flying, the force of the blow sending her stumbling a few steps off the path.

“My apologies, ma’am,” the man said, striding closer to her. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Feyre cleared her throat, finding her feet and holding back a glare. Best not to anger the strange man in the middle of the park with no one else around. “No worries,” she said, and made to resume her walk.

“Miss?” The man’s voice filtered through her headphones. Feyre turned, settling them around her shoulders.

“Yes?” She asked, hand on hip.

“I’m Special Agent Cassian Claret.” He reached a hand into his pocket, and Feyre stepped back, wondering if she would finally have a reason to use the pepper spray she kept with her on walks precisely for moments like these.

But the man merely pulled out a small leather wallet-thing, flipping it open. “I’m with the FBI. Do you have a few moments to speak with me?”

His introduction finally registered. Special Agent Cassian Claret.

Feyre stared at him, her jaw slackening.

Cassian cleared his throat after several long moments. “Ms. Archeron?��

“How do you know my name?” Feyre asked, backing up further, her hand gripping the pepper spray on her keychain, the bottle suddenly feeling pathetically small as she faced down Cassian, who was simply enormous.

His dark hair fell to just below his ruggedly chiseled chin, a five o’clock shadow already prominent on the lower half of his face. The sweats he wore did nothing to conceal his muscular frame—he was taller and broader than even Tamlin. His hazel eyes tracked her every movement with a laserlike focus.

Feyre’s pepper spray didn’t stand a chance.

“You’re not in trouble,” Cassian said. “I can assure you. I just need to speak with you for a few minutes.”

Feyre stared at him.

“Here. These are my credentials.” He tossed the wallet-like thing at her, and she managed to catch it in her sweaty hands, peering down at the credentials inside. It looked real . . .

“Do you have a business card?” Feyre asked, partially because the man didn’t feel dangerous in the way others she had encountered in the park did, and partially because she had a feeling that if she tried to run, he would have no problem chasing her down and catching her.

Cassian nodded, pulling out a business card and handing it over. Feyre examined it, then pulled out her phone.

Cassian waited, hands clasped behind his back. No one had passed them on the path for a very long time. Was it his doing?

Feyre did a quick Google search for the local FBI office, then called the 24 hour line. Cassian’s forehead creased as she held the phone up to her ear.

Minutes passed. She was placed on hold. Then—

“Prythian County FBI. How can I assist you?”

“Hi,” Feyre said, voice shaking slightly. “I need to verify the identity of an agent.”

She provided Cassian’s name. The woman asked her to ask him for some sort of identification number, which Cassian relayed without protest when Feyre asked. Feyre repeated the number back to the woman, who told her that yes, Feyre was currently speaking with Special Agent Cassian Claret, who was on assignment.

“Thank you,” Feyre said, shutting off her phone.

“Satisfied?” Cassian asked, not a trace of irritation present in his voice.

Feyre swallowed. “Yes. Um. What is this about? What could you possibly want from me?”

“Well, Ms. Archeron. We need your help with a rather sensitive matter. It’s best not discussed here,” Cassian said. “Perhaps we could walk back toward my car?”

“I’m not getting in your car.”

Cassian held up his hands. “That may be your choice. I completely understand your caution. But I think if you see who’s accompanying me, you might feel differently.”

Feyre blinked up at him, returning his wallet and card and falling into step beside him as he turned, leading Feyre back the way she had come.

“Who’s accompanying you?”

As they crested the small hill Feyre had just trekked down, a black car came into view, parked on the street alongside the park. Cassian didn’t answer Feyre’s question as they drew close to the car.

Close enough that when the back window rolled down, Feyre recognized a familiar pair of violet-blue eyes.

“Rhysand,” she breathed.

---------------

Taglist:

@rhysiedarling @shedoessoshedoes @popjunkie42 @adreamof-spring @that-little-red-head @witch-and-her-witcher @cinnamonmelody @muaddib-iswriting @queenofdivas

#acotar #feysand #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #rhysand x feyre #modernau #feysand fanfiction #feyre #rhysand #sarah j maas #feyre cursebreaker

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achaotichuman · 2 months

Note

Hello!!! I was wondering if you have recs for pro-Tamlin fics, fics where he gets a happy ending in general? Or where the Night Court get called out on their bullshit with a side of pro Tamlin bc I’d devour them but have a hard time finding them (I love your fics btw)

Sure do!

Pro Tam fics can be difficult to find. I found all of these scrolling through either the Tamlin redemption tag, or the different relationship tags on AO3.

I'll link all the fics here. I'll put all the summaries and the relationship that goes with them, if there is a relationship. This is a list of all my personal favorite Tamlin fics, but these creators make other amazing Tamlin fics, and scrolling the pro Tamlin tag can take you to some really cool fanfiction.

A Court of Threads and Daises by @shi-daisy. Tamlin/Lucien.

Tragedy almost struck the Spring Court when Tamlin Evergreen tried to take his own life. Lucien Vanserra manages to save his former Lord, but not his power.

Now that the Spring Court has a new High Lord and the horrors of war are behind them, both Tamlin and Lucien agree to help the new heir navigate court life and attempt to rebuild the broken Spring Court, along with healing themselves.

They weren't expecting to fall back in love in the process.

A Second Chance by @goforth-ladymidnight. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra. Modern ACOTAR AU – There is a reason that Tamlin disappeared from Lucien's life seven years ago. Lucien just doesn't know what it is. They were more than college roommates; they were best friends. Now, a chance encounter in a bookstore leaves both of them wondering if they can pick up where they left off. A new year is right around the corner, but there is no wiping Tamlin's slate clean. Featuring Jurian and Vassa in supporting roles, this is not a story of redemption, but of finding love—and forgiveness—in the most unlikely of places.

Lovely and Lonely by @praetorqueenreyna. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

"In hindsight, Lucien thinks he fell in love with Tamlin the moment he first laid eyes on him."

**************************

Lucien Vanserra must come to terms with his sexuality, and his complicated feelings for High Lord Tamlin.

Wildflower by @mathiwrites. Tamlin/Rhysand.

Five hundred years before Feyre’s arrival in Prythian, the humans fought against Faeries, led by the King of Hybern, for their Freedom. Tamlin is only seven years old when the war begins, but his family’s involvement and a fated friendship with a handsome young Lord from the Night Court will change his life forever. This is the story of how he becomes the High Lord you know and love, and the redemption story nobody asked for.

TL;DR - before they were enemies, they touched butts.

Make The Switch by @lorcanisdabest. Tamlin/Rhysand.

Tamlin is desperate to save Feyre from the Night Court so he decides to put his shape-shifting abilities to good use.

Note: this leans heavily on BOOK 1 Tamlin and BOOK 1 Rhysand.

A Court of Beasts and Chances by M4r0u_Mar. Tamlin/Tarquin.

About a Beast who must be prince and a Prince who wants to be beast. About a Prince who learns of second chances and a Beast who learns of redemption. About looking for love and finding it in the journey rather than the destination.

Or the one where I rewrite ACOTAR to make Tamlin and Tarquin mates.

A Court of Choices Made by Anonymous. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra. Lucien decides to go after Tamlin to pick a fight after his first Winter Solstice with the Night Court.

Tamlin Decides Feyre Is Not Worth The Trouble by @lorcanisdabest. Tamlin/Tarquin. You remember that glorious moment where Rhysand was dead? Let's extend that.

I see red, I see nothing by AngryRamen. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra. Lucien travels to Amarantha’s domain to try and bid for peace between her and the courts of Prythian. It doesn’t go well.

Still Beautiful, Still Mine by @goforth-ladymidnight. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra. ACOTAR AU - In the weeks following his visit to Amarantha’s Court Under the Mountain, Lucien is still recovering from the loss of his eye. Nuan has made him a replacement out of gold, but the scars on his face are there to stay. When Tamlin comes to see him, Lucien cannot help but relive the events that brought them to this point, if only he could focus on what's standing right in front of him...

A Sunbeam Shining Bright Into the Night by @nocasdatsgay. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

After the Great Rite ritual is completed, Tamlin always goes back to the Manor to see if Lucien is waiting for him. This year he is.

Forbidden by @nocasdatsgay. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra. Calanmai has come once again, but Tamlin isn’t focused on the females waiting for him.

Breezing on by Sprighnt (SliPuP_Slit). Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

His focus was shattered when Feyre dropped onto the bench next to him with a dramatic sigh, “You won’t even say hi after you ditched us last week?”

Lucien rolled his eyes at her antics, “I didn’t ditch you, I was studying for math. The exam of a subject that I need days to prepare for, remember? I didn’t think you’d even notice me gone, what with all the ogling that takes up your time in our practices.”

“Shut up!” She shushed him, glancing around wildly for any eavesdroppers, “what if he heard you?”

——— Lucien has settled into a routine now. He’s finally able to go back to competing after an accident that had him wondering if he’d ever be able to skate competitively again, he’s out of his hellish childhood home, and has friends that make him happy.

By the Fountain by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit). Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

Tamlin is tired of stuffy dinner parties, luckily, he has his best friend, Lucien, to make things more interesting.

———

Tamlin took the time to look at Lucien, who was staring at an elegant fountain nearby. He examined the dip of his nose, the scrunch of his brows, the slight part of his lips that indicated he was contemplating something. Then Lucien’s mouth set in a firm line, meaning he’d made up his mind on whatever the issue was.

Lucien glanced back at him and Tamlin startled at being caught watching. He placed his hand gently on Tamlin’s arm, “I don’t think my father will plan one for me either.”

New Springs by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit). Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

“I can’t be here for as long as you,” she clarifies, gesturing to the forest around them.

“You’re leaving?”

She shrugs, “It’s nice here, but my sisters, my father, they’re my only family. Even if they’re, a little difficult at times, and I don’t want to hurt Tam. I was really in love with him, but, to put it plainly, I’m not like you.”

“Like me,” Lucien repeats, confused, “what do you mean?”

———

In another universe, an alternate timeline, Feyre says “I love you”, before she’s sent off and therefore breaks the curse the way it was supposed to be broken. Things are different.

absolution by @praetorqueenreyna. Feyre/Mercenary Lady, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

Things didn't work out between Feyre and Tamlin. Years later, they both find love in unexpected places

Beauteous Evening, Calm and Free by franklinarchive. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

Tamlin heals and then he moves on.

Or, what if Sarah J. Maas hadn’t committed ‘character assassination’ against Tamlin?

When The Sun Came Up (I Was Looking At You) by pansexual_intellectual . Jesminda/Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

There was a slight choking sound from the Night Court side of the room, but when you looked, Lucien was expressionless, adjusting his doublet.

It was the worst idea you had ever had. In the shreds of your manor you dropped to your knees. He was gone in the morning, as you knew he would be.

Burning Batter by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit). Tamlin/Rhysand. Rhysand comes over to make cupcakes with Tamlin for Feyre’s upcoming New Year’s party.

A strange thing happened the night of the High Lord meeting by @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken. Tamlin/Rhysand.

Tamlin shook his head, a small smile on his full lips. “You forget that we were closer than friends once. I know your face. Even when you think you’re being so clever, hiding behind that mask of impassivity, I see you.”

He snarled, even as his heart began to beat faster as the other male approached him.

“You think I didn’t see you? You couldn’t stop looking at me during that meeting.” He took another step closer, and his next words were tinged with playfulness, a hint of the Tamlin he’d used to know.

“Were you thinking of that night too?”

He froze. “What?”

In the Eyes of My Beloved by Alynaw66. Tamlin/Rhysand.

I promise, Rhysand sighs into his mouth; Then down onto the slight curve between his neck and shoulder. Tamlin shivers, feeling dazed. Overwhelmed.

“Another offer,” he begins, one hand sliding down to grip Tamlin’s narrow waist.

(Also fun fact about this fic, I was brought to Tumblr because of a link in the notes, so without this fiction I wouldn't be here)

Stay or Go? by SoulOfStars. Tamlin/Rhysand. Both of their families are dead. Rhysand decides to stay. They fuck in the second chapter.

heaven sent a hurricane by @praetorqueenreyna. Tamlin/Eris Vanserra. After his family is killed and he is crowned High Lord, Tamlin struggles to keep his Court under his control. (Un)Luckily for him, Eris Vanserra steps in to help.

A House of Flame and Flower by Mellowenglishgal. Nesta Archeron/Tamlin, Nesta Archeron/Azriel.

“Spare me the self-righteous lecturing, Feyre. You and your new family believe yourselves superior: that anyone who is not deemed worthy by you must bow or be eliminated. I refuse to bow to those I do not respect: and I owe none of you any such obligation. Nor am I obligated to remain where my autonomy is threatened,” Nesta sighed, gentle yet commanding, her voice low and steady and unyielding. “I renounce all ties to the Night Court. From now on, you are no longer my sister.”

“Where will you go?” Feyre snapped, but Nesta saw it: the sudden realisation that Nesta meant every word.

“That is no longer your business. Goodbye, Feyre,” Nesta said softly. She rose to her feet, elegant as an empress despite her unkempt clothing. As she stared down her youngest sister, Nesta caressed the delicious power shimmering like slumbering embers deep in her heart, until her veins sang with silver fire, pure light, blistering heat, deadly yet silent.

Flame was silent: everything it met shattered and snapped, disintegrating, unable to withstand it.

She was flame. She was undiluted, unrefined, unapologetic power.

She told Feyre, “You will not hear from me again.”

(Side note, I just started reading this fic and it looks FREAKIN amazing) Edit- Anyone who saw that I changed the name of the author to a tag, ignore it, I was wrong.

A Court of Lies and Resurrection by @ashintheairlikesnow. Tamlin/Rhysand. AU: Feyre is dead, torn apart by Amarantha when Tamlin did not send her away in time. Tamlin, forced to submit to Amarantha's terms, finds himself looking for help (and finding affection) in places he never expected, while Lucien allies with an ancient enemy (and one of Rhys's closest friends) to save him. WARNING Extensive explicit adult content, sexual situations, violence, MA

In This Peace Series by @trshtffc, the first fiction in the series is completed The Sorceress . Tamlin/Original Female Character.

Seven years after ACOWAR, Spring Court is struggling to keep from falling apart completely. A mother tries to move on and keep her daughter safe in this chaotic world, but when the young female most needs a friend, she'll give the disgraced High Lord a chance to attone for the pain he has caused, and, perhaps, to finally heal.

TW for - mentions of suicidal thoughts - mentions of loss of a pregnancy - mentions of sexual abuse - mentions of emotional abuse (toxic relationships and toxic family dinamics) - colourism - LGBT+phobia

(This one was recommended to me in the replies of this post, and it looks so good)

And finally, (shameless self-ad) A Court of Song and Desolation by me. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

She had eyes like starlight and a grin that could outshine the moon, "We'll rule the world."

"What if we fail?"

"Then we'll burn it all down."

In hindsight maybe it could only have ever ended like this. Making a man who was never made to rule, High lord. This was all inevitable.

With his Court in ruins and everyone gone, Tamlin lives amongst the broken pieces of his Court and has no intentions of changing that. Lucien, however, will not stand to leave his oldest friend alone.

When Lucien takes Tamlin back to the human lands, they discover a darkness coming for Prythian. If something does not stop it, it will completely rewrite the way Faeries and humans alike live as they know it

I hope you like these amazing fics as much as I do, anon!

Edit- If anyone has any recommendations for pro Tamlin fics, or anti IC fics, please let me know and I will add them to the list!

79 notes · View notes

aladyofgoodtaste · 3 months

Text

A Court of 'It's giving beauty & the beast' and 'Except you can't tell which one is which'

Tamlin thinks that the Mother is cruel for the salvation of his home requires another human’s help while Juno curses whatever entity that Isekai’ed her into this shitty ass book series.

AO3

Chapter 1: Fuck it, we ball

A meeting and a blatant disrespect for all things Canon

CH2 | CH3

For 7 governmental bodies to co-exist with one another, it’s crucial for the High Lords of Prythian to come together once a year. This annual meeting is crucial because each Courts must establish new trade agreements, honour allies, and exchange information (and sometimes gossip) to strengthen the peace.

This year, the honour of hosting such an event falls on Helion and his Day Court and as the most ostentatious High Lord among them all, he spared no expense in throwing the most lavish party for future guests. Even his people are swept away by his spirit! It’s as if the city has come to life from the streets to the alleys. Music fills the air, and decorations hang on every house, for everyone loves the High Lord and what he has sacrificed and fought for. Here in the Day Court, the adoration for Helion is evident for everyone who visits.

“How long has this festival been going on? Weeks?” The High Lord of the Winter Court, Kallias, comments as he glances down the streets. “What are they celebrating anyway?”

Beside him, his Mate Viviane peeks to where Kallias is staring at - a flower cart full of her favourites. She smiles and replies, “I’ve heard from Helion’s courtiers earlier that it’s because of us. There’s a party after our meeting that’s meant to promote the peace. “I’m looking forward to that.” Underneath the warm sunlight and clad in their regalia, the pair looks like statues crafted from diamonds that have come to life.

“Knowing Helion, it’s going to involve an orgy one way or another.” Another voice joins their conversation. The High Lord of the Dawn Court takes the empty seat on Kallias’ right. Helion has organised an open chamber-tower for their annual meeting that oversees the entire city, a subtle show of power. A magnificent round table made out of wood that no longer exists in their realm rests in the middle just like the streets below. Comfortable chairs are provided for the High Lords and their plus one. From the ceiling to the floor, everything here is lavishly decorated. It’s so shiny that it inspires Thesan’s new automaton project. However, he shelves the new ideas aside in favour of the conversation. “If the two of you plan to stick around after this, I might do the same.”

Kallias and Viviane exchange a look, and something silent transpires between them, for the Lady of the Winter Court is suddenly amused. “Oh my, Thesan. Interested in a threesome? What would the good Captain say?”

The mention of his lover had Thesan in a coy mood. He hopes that all is well in his absence. “I can easily bring him to the party later and propose the suggestion. Orgies aside, it’s been a while since the 4 of us spent some time together after the war.”

“It’s wonderful that things have been slowly getting back to normal after what we’ve been through,” Kallias muses, his mind threatening to wander back to those dark days when he was living Under the Mountain. He offers a tiny smile at his wife, who senses his sudden change in emotion and grasps his hand. “Peace is long overdue in these lands. Let’s hope it sticks.”

Agreeing with his sentiment, Thesan and Viviane shift the conversation to something more lighthearted to cheer him up.

In one corner of the chamber, the High Lord of the Summer Court is deep in discussion with the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. His ambition to lessen the influence of the High Faes in the Summer and uplift the Lesser ones requires delicate and long-term planning. A civil war is his biggest worry right now, and he needs to avoid that at all costs; hence, he requested some valuable insights from his allies. However, The more they talk, Tarquin begins to realise that he and Rhysand have very different perspectives on managing their people. “I appreciate your advice, Rhysand, but I don’t think bolstering the numbers of my army will help me in the long run. I want equality among the High and Lesser Faes in my Court, not scaring them.”

Rhysand easily shrugs; he and Feyre are wearing their leather fineries just for this occasion. In his mind, Tarquin is still young and still wet behind the pointy ears when it comes to ruling. It should be alright for him to make mistakes here and there. After all, some people tend to learn the hard way. “That’s what I would personally do, anyway. It’s never wrong to strengthen the foundation of your Court. Especially when it comes to safety.”

“I agree! Having a powerful military force isn’t all that bad. You can use it to defend what truly matters to you,” Feyre chimes in, casting a loving look at Rhysand. “Your home. Your family.” And just like that, the two retreat into their bubble - trading lust-filled eyes, arms around one another and utterly oblivious to Tarquin, who just shakes his head. He politely excuses himself to join Kallias, Viviane and Thesan, who welcome him with a sparkling drink.

“You lasted about an hour with the two of them, Tarquin. Congratulations! Was it worth it?” Viviane teases while Kallias surreptitiously keeps an eye on Rhysand and Feyre, who are literally eye-fucking one another in case that shady High Lord overhears his wife.

“His advice was… insightful”, Tarquin decides after some deliberation. He thanks Thesan for the drink. Though he might have forgiven the Night Court for their thievery and transgression, he still won’t forget their crimes so soon. He kept that thought to himself since Rhysand is considered to be one of the most powerful creatures among them. It would be foolish to make him an enemy. “I was hoping for something less offensive and more of a creative suggestion.”

“Still working hard on evening out the playing fields?” Thesan guesses. His flute glass is empty, but it magically refills when he puts it away on an empty gold tray. This pleases him.

“I’ll never stop trying; I firmly believe there shouldn’t be a class difference among the Faes. The Mother makes us all equal from birth, regardless of our appearance.”

“That’s very open-minded of you, Tarquin. Tell you what, If you ever need a second opinion, Viviane and I are happy to host you in our Court.”

“The same goes for the Dawn Court. Oh, don’t look so surprised, little one! Sure, you’re young, but that just means you have so many wild ideas in that head of yours that I’d love to hear about. Call it a mutually beneficial trade, hmm?”

“I see… very well then, thank you, Lord Thesan; I’m also grateful for your offer.”

“To new friendships!” Viviane cheers and raises her flute for a toast. Kallias, Thesan and Tarquin indulge her. “Since we’re talking about Courts now, has anyone figured out what’s been happening lately? There’s a part in Winter’s forest that’s rotted off.” Here, her face is troubled, and even Kallias appears uncertain. “The worst part is that the area is expanding as if the rot is growing bigger.”

Tarquin’s eyes are wide. This time, it’s he who is surprised. “The rot appeared in the Winter Court as well? I’ve been receiving reports from Cresseida that some wheat fields are turning into a wasteland. There was no warning, no cause that we could find. It’s as if it appeared suddenly.”

“I don’t like the sound of this…” Thesan adds in, already contemplating launching his own investigation in the Dawn Court just in case.

Kallias takes a moment to view Helion’s city once more. On the surface, everything looks perfect, but now he’s curious; just what kind of troubles would Helion deal with daily? His Court did receive quite a number of human refugees during the war. “I wonder if the Day Court is affected as well. Maybe that’s why its High Lord is running late.” They were supposed to begin the meeting once Rhysand and Feyre had arrived (being fashionably late as always), but Helion still hadn’t made himself known. Other than personally directing them to this chamber until an aide intervened to whisk him away. Everyone has been amusing themselves since then.

Beron, the High Lord of the Autumn Court, is nursing his drink alone. His thoughts serve as his company, for he opted not to bring his wife along. The other Faes are too caught up in their own matter to realise he’d been eavesdropping on every conversation that was stirred. Fools the lot of them; so quick to ease the guards on their shoulders just because they’re among ‘allies’. With a contemplative hum, Beron raises his glass of red wine to be at his eye level. The dark hue reminds him of his once clear lake turning a putrid red and the surroundings are barren. He, too, had noticed the rot making its home in his Court. He has no time for this new mystery yet when none of his nobles could come forward with an answer and a solution, it infuriates the High Lord.

Voices tapers off when Helion finally Winnows back into the chamber. Shining with splendour with a golden crown on his head and wearing his customary white toga, Helion addresses his esteemed guests, “Apologies for the wait. My courtiers couldn’t get enough of me these days - “ the more perspective ones like Beron and Thesan catch the underlying meaning of his words: ‘Issues has been popping up lately’. “ - I hope the drinks more than makeup for it. They were from my grandfather’s era after all. Now then, shall we begin?”

As soon as Helion said that, there was a crack in the air. Two figures appear without a warning, shattering the pleasant atmosphere. A ripple of shock, utter confusion and subtle wariness spread across the table at the sight of the High Lord of the Spring Court and a human female on his arm.

“Tamlin,” Helion speaks first, breaking the tense silence. He didn’t gape, but he sure as hell didn’t expect this particular High Lord to actually attend their meeting due to his self-imposed exile and preference to escape the world in the form of a mindless beast. The rest of the Courts - especially Rhysand and Feyre - watch their interactions carefully. “Welcome! If I had known all it takes was a party at the Day Court, I would’ve personally sent you the invitation. To you and your…”

“My Mate.” Tamlin answers simply. He looks beautifully put together in all the garbs worthy of the High Lord of the Spring Court, beautiful, just like before. His long golden hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and he’s wearing a warrior's assemble without the weaponry. Instead, silver chains and emeralds that match his eyes hang off his shoulders and chest piece.

Helion easily rolls with it; a part of him is a bit relieved that Tamlin is as standoffish as ever. Familiarity is good; familiarity helps you ground your footing. It’s something that he’s good at. However, the human besides Tamlin is anything but familiar. “Congratulations are in order then. You found yourself quite an intriguing female.” He sensed no lie in Tamlin’s confession despite his perfectly schooled expression. Perhaps he’s feeling awkward at the idea of introducing his female to creatures with whom he has fractured relationships.

“That’s one way to put it...” Tamlin mutters. That earns a sharp elbow at his rib. He just rolls his eyes when the human glares at him.

Inside jokes already? Oh, Helion can’t wait for the gossip tonight! “May I have your hand and name, gorgeous?”

For some reason, the female is unfazed with his flirting, though she did offer her hand for him to kiss it. Her nails are long and sharp, black as the night, with a tiny diamond on each. What’s unfamiliar is the material of the nails itself; it's inorganic. Even the jewellery on her fingers and arms might be gold and silver with a leather band, but the designs are unlike anything Helion has seen before. Intricate yet so foreign. Still, he kisses the back of her hand. “Juno. No last name. Nice to meet you.” The female introduces herself after a while. “I acknowledge every High Lord and their Mate here today.” Compared to Tamlin’s unapproachable demeanour, she’s polite yet distant.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Juno. I hope we can be closer after the meeting, as friends, of course.” Helion winks, wanting to know Tamlin’s reactions. To his disappointment, the High Lord of Spring just nods. The couple settles beside Thesan (a servant appears to add one more chair for the human female), a silent gesture that they refuse to entertain any inane questions. Well then. Helion would just have to wait for the party. Judging by the blatant curiosity of their fellow lords and Mates, everyone is truly looking forward to what’s to come. Except for Beron; the male seems as if he’s using every bit of restraint to hold his tongue. His disdain for humans is as obnoxious as ever.

Helion can’t do anything about that. Instead, he claps his hands—time to get this show on the road.

The meeting starts off easy. Since the first on the agenda is trading goods, everyone must agree on the markup prices for what is considered luxury and essentials. Staple food like grains, vegetables, animal produce and meat must be affordable enough between the Courts. The High Lords that have the most considerable sway in the final verdict are Helion, Tarquin, Tamlin, and Thesan since their territories are the ones that output them the most.

“I don’t think it’s fair that Tamlin has the final say for the prices,” Rhysand suddenly interjects. His voice is steady as he tilts his head, much like a panther sizing up its prey. “The Spring Court hasn’t been exporting much supplies since the war. In fact, the number is dwindling.”

Kallias and Viviane hold their breath, waiting for the outburst. Feyre expected the same, for they all could feel her magic coiling tightly, ready to defend her Mate against Tamlin’s outrage. The rest are content to be bystanders for now.

“…Very well. I revoke my ability to vote in this matter.” Tamlin backs off, just like that. He focuses on the scroll in front of him, jointing down some notes, much to the surprise of everyone once more. Rhysand is taken off guard before suspicion quickly passes over, and that’s Feyre’s cue to remain on guard.

“Moving on,” Helion smoothly brings them all to the next topic. There is no need to ruffle any feathers here since Tamlin is behaving himself. “Reparations. I believe it’s in the best interest of every Court to chip in and help the ones in need. The war has taught us that we act as a shield for one another against foreign threats. So it makes sense that the well-being of your neighbour is crucial for our survival.”

An impatient Beron sighs. “Cut the unnecessary fluff, Helion. You want us all to send our precious resources to Spring and Summer. They’re the only ones left still scrambling to build themselves up again. Why should my Court share the burden? Summer can stand on its own again in 40 years or so. Meanwhile, Spring is content to dwell in its ruin and destruction. No matter how fancy its High Lord look today.”

Helion resists pinching the bridge of his nose. He was really hoping that no one antagonised Tamlin, but at the same time, he couldn’t refute Beron as much as he loathed it. There hasn’t been any progress on the Spring Court’s restorations. Its populace continues to flee from their own home, and Tamlin has been neglecting to manage the lands. All things considered, the Spring Court is seconds away from becoming an abandoned territory. Prime for an invasion, and it might be from another Court.

Tamlin gives Beron the attention he’s so desperate for. His composure cracked ever so slightly as simmering rage glimmered in his eyes. “Careful, Beron; one would think the control you are so proud of is slipping. Or perhaps you’re ignorant of what’s truly happening outside your little kingdom instead?”

Beron bristles at the insults and leans forward, ready to counter or attack, but Tamlin isn’t done yet. “Hoard your money. The Spring Court has been rebuilding itself at its own pace; we don’t need charity that disguises itself as with strings attached.” Tamlin sneers.

From across the table, Feyre scoffs. “With what resources? What people and labour? The last report from our Spymaster mentioned that your lands are nearly barren. More and more refugees from the Spring Court are travelling to different territories.”

Viviane bit her lower lip. Everyone knew what Feyre did to the Spring Court, so for her to rub salt in Tamlin’s wounds was a low blow. Even if he deserves it for everything that he has done. The Lady of the Winter Court wonders what his Mate thinks about this and if she’s aware of the history between the two and Rhysand. When she peeks at the human female, Juno (she commits that name into her memories), she’s confused to find her indifferent to the tension-filled exchange. She’s been fiddling with a strange, rectangle object ever since the meeting started; her eyes never stray away from it for even a second. It’s as if she couldn’t care less that her Mate is besieged by the Night and Autumn Court. Viviane found herself disappointed with this human.

“Sitting on that throne of morality doesn’t suit you, Feyre. While I don’t expect or need aid from the Autumn Court, I demand accountability from the Night Court’s actions against me and my Court.” Tamlin’s voice is hard. Any ounce of affection he has for her is utterly devoid.

Rhysand flares in anger while Feyre has no shame even to look chastised. “My High Lady can do whatever she wants - “ Helion didn’t miss the way Tarquin closed his eyes in resignation. “ - you no longer have the right to dictate her. Honestly, Tamlin, I thought you’d be bored with this game already. It’s pathetic that you’re still trying to - ”

“Enough!” Thesan suddenly barks, silencing everyone. He’s fed up with these petty arguments. First, he turns to Rhysand, who does not appreciate the interjection. “Keep your feud outside of this meeting. We honestly don’t care about it.” Next is Tamlin. “While you might not need it, I want to put the past behind us already by extending an olive branch. The Dawn Court will be sending manpower and supplies to speed up your restoration projects. I give this willingly.”

Tamlin tersely nods. His Mate finally reacts - she lifts her head to stare appreciatively at Thesan. In return, Thesan just gives her a tiny smile.

“If the Spring Court is so confident in itself, then I supposed we can send its refugees back,” Rhysand drawls. He leans forward to tap a finger on the table, pretending to think. “It’s only right to return them to their home, though I wonder if they would even want to, considering their faith in their High Lord is in the sewers.”

“They’ll come back.”

Every Fae in the chamber turns to the human female. Most of them had forgotten she was sitting beside Tamlin with how quiet she was. Now though? Now, she wears a confident grin on her face. “Kind of you to worry about our people, Rice Cracker, but we’ve got it handled.”

“What did you just call me - ”

“How?” Helion couldn’t help but ask.

“Simple: we’ll give them democracy!”

Those in the Day Court Palace waste no time partying once Helion officially ended the meeting. It dragged on and on for at least half a day before it checked off everything they all needed to discuss.

Beron immediately returns to his Court while the rest lingers to enjoy the feast and atmosphere. The dining hall is crowded with partygoers of all kinds though most give the High Lords and their Mates a respectful berth. Not Helion, though. The moment he stepped inside, he was swarmed with adoring lovers, ragged courtiers and a few scholars as well.

“Enjoy the party, everyone!” Helion had shouted among the chatters and music before he was whisked away. “Do what I wouldn’t!”

They all disperse after that to enjoy the feast to the fullest. Kallias and Viviane help themselves to some food; when a group of nymphs comes over to ask about the villages in Winter, the couple is more than happy to talk to them. Always eager to accept new creatures into their home. Tarquin is listening to scholars and healers from various Courts as they regale him with tales and snippets of their lives. He’s especially respectful to the older ones for their experiences. Meanwhile, Tamlin wandered off somewhere, leaving his Mate - the only human in the dining hall - to fend for herself. She’s nursing a tumbler at the bar, and Thesan was compelled to join her.

“I didn’t know that they serve non-alcoholics too.” He says in lieu of greeting, already scenting the ripe apple in her tumbler. He easily saddles up beside her, understanding why she chose this corner of the bar. It’s quieter here, with the bartender busy attending the drinks, giving the two an illusion of privacy. “You don’t drink?”

Tamlin’s Mate snorts. “Never interested in it. You should’ve seen the bartender's face when I asked for juice. He gave me one with an apple flavour, thinking it was degrading. Jokes on him; this is the best apple juice I’ve ever had.”

Said bartender throws her the stink eye, to which she cheerfully raised a middle finger.

Thesan raises an eyebrow. It’s not bravado. For being the only human among Faes, she displays no sense of fear, wariness or even self-preservation. She might be a Mate to a High Lord, but no one really respects Tamlin as one nowadays. Her status isn’t enough to protect her against his enemies, and with these many people under one palace, one can never be too sure. And yet, she thinks herself untouchable. Thesan doesn’t know where this insane confidence is coming from, and he’s determined to find out as much as she can about this mortal.

“I’ve never seen such strange clothing before or this particular scent around you,” Thesan admits; a heady mixture of peach, vanilla, seawater, and something he couldn’t quite describe lingers around her. “Forgive me for my rudeness, but you came with Tamlin and threw us all off guard.”

“Oh, I bet. I had a strong impression that Tamlin was supposed to quietly disappear in the background as the series went on. Too bad. I don’t respect the books or SJM enough to give a shit about Canon.�� Juno says idly, sipping on her chilled juice.

Not a single thing that left her mouth made sense to Thesan, and judging by the female’s disinterest in elaborating, he tried another angle. “I see… and the scent?”

“It’s a perfume; Dialogue with Venus. I wanted a brand that smelled like a French whore. What? You guys don’t have perfumes around here?”

“What is a per…fume?”

Now it’s the female’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Huh. Interesting. You guys have coffee, silk and stuff - shits that are not from England, and yet I’ve never heard any of the Courts receive trades from overseas. I figured perfumes would be one of the items that were added into the series with no explanation behind it.”

OK, this is getting nowhere fast. While Juno is clearly forthcoming, her answers remain confusing. Luckily, Viviane sashays over. “Hello. We haven’t been formally introduced. My name is Viviane; I’m the Lady of the Winter Court and Kallias’ friend and Mate. I love your tattoos, by the way. I haven’t seen such vibrant and colourful Bargain marks before!” She’s sincere too. A long black viper is slithering underneath beautifully blooming flowers running down her arms, chest and back. It helps that the black crop top bra highlights the artwork. Viviane’s initial opinions about this human female have been changing ever since she spoke up during the meeting. She’s intrigued like the rest of them.

Juno ducks her head, oddly shy now. “They’re not Bargain tattoos, but… thanks.”

She wonders if the humans painted them on then. “So, are you from beyond the Wall?” Viviane wasted no time asking after ordering a drink for herself. The trio makes themselves comfortable on the barstools. “I’m not familiar with human fashion styles but I adore your simplicity yet invoking assemble.”

“Heavy on the simplicity,” Juno agrees with a secretive grin. “As for your question… you could say that.” Her grin widened the longer Viviane waited for her to share more about her life.

Thesan takes pity on her and asks, “What do you think of the meeting? It must be overwhelming.” ‘For a human’, the High Lord keeps that last bit to himself. If he could, he would go as far as to say that Tamlin was callous for bringing her; no one was prepared for the double whammy - Tamlin actually showing up or him introducing his very human, very vulnerable Mate that no one even heard about.

“I went like how I expected it to be; male egos being thrown around like monkey shits. Plus, I got everything I needed from it, so we’re Gucci.” Juno shrugs and finishes her drink in one swing. Her eyes caught Tarquin now among Kallias and Rhysand. Still no sign of Tamlin. “Although… it was nice to see your favourite character in real life. The official artworks really don’t do him justice, but hey, that’s why we have the fan arts.”

Viviane snorts when she mentions ‘male egos’ while Thesan mentally notes that the human’s way of speaking is utterly befuddling. He barely understands half of those sentences!

The three of them continue to make idle talks. Thesan and Viviane made a silent agreement to play the human female’s game and only share the bare minimum about their Courts and themselves. If she picks up on it, she doesn’t seem to be insulted at all. For Viviane, she hopes that the two could be friends because one can never have too many female friends! However, a tiny part of her - the one that has kept her alive all these years - warns not to be so comfortable with this human. Amarantha underestimated Feyre Archeron, and what came afterwards was her demise. And her relationship with Tamlin… the parallels between Feyre and Juno can’t be ignored. A human female appears out of nowhere and is brought into their world by the High Lord of the Spring Court.

History is itching to repeat itself.

The feast continued, and soon enough, most of the attendees meandered to different rooms and areas of the palace. The Faes reveal themselves in the 3 F’s - food, which Helion has generously provided with delicacies from every Court and then some. Fight, which the more rowdy partygoers are raring to take arms and challenge each other at the training hall, and the last…

“What’s wrong?” Juno asks when Viviane and Thesan suddenly cocks their heads at the same time. The direction is at the giant door draped with red drapes.

“It sounds like the party has shifted to a more… sensual activity.” Thesan comments, and Viviane snorts.

“Aite. That’s my cue to leave.”

“Not one for orgies, mortal?”

“Nah. I prefer reading about them instead. Thanks for keeping me company, Lord Thesan. You too, Lady Viviane. You guys are way cooler than the main cast. You deserve a book each, at the very least.”

Thesan shakes his head. “I’ve given up trying to decipher the strange phrases and words you keep uttering all evening. so I will take that as a compliment.”

“Defo,” Juno replies, pleased with her even-tempered companions. “Tell you what, if you ever want to change something about your fate, hit me up at the Spring Court. I’ll do it as a favour.” She gives them two thumbs up as assurance.

As the music slowly dwindles, a clacking pair of heels makes themselves known first before the voice: “Viviane! Here you are. Kallias was wondering if you’d like to - oh.”

Feyre Archeron has not entered the scene. Her beaming smile is now hesitant when she sees the human female between Viviane and Thesan.

“Hello again, Feyre. What does Kallias want now?” Viviane cuts right to the chase. Knowing her Mate, he’s probably starting to miss her.

Feyre’s eyes linger on Juno for a second longer before giving her attention to the Lady of the Winter Court. “He’s with Rhysand and Helion at the southern courtyard. They’re discussing about exchanging administrative records and he wants your input.”

Viviane sighs. She finishes her drink and gracefully gets on her feet. “Duty calls. It’s been lovely catching up with the two of you. Feyre, you and your Mate are always welcome in my Court.” And with that, she Winnows away.

“I should be going back home as well,” Thesan adds apologetically. “There’s something I must check with my Captain. Nice meeting you, Juno. Goodbye, you two, and excuse me.” He, too, leaves in a blink of an eye.

Now, it’s just two females with Tamlin as their common ground.

Without a single word, Juno begins to leave only for Feyre to immediately grab her hand. “Wait! Please. My heart wouldn’t be at ease if I didn’t talk to you for a moment. It’s about your Mate. Tamlin, I mean. I’m afraid there’s a lot of things that he hasn’t told you.”

Feyre can’t help but sound a little desperate; her eyes are imploring. She hopes that it’s not too late to save this female. Whatever reaction she was looking for turns out to be the exact opposite for the human’s lips curl up into a wide smile. There’s something not right about it.

“Oh, this is gonna be so good,” She purrs. She forcefully yanks her hand free, and Feyre is surprised that she can. “Let’s go to the balcony. Fewer people make it more fun.” The human turned around and walked off without even checking if the High Lady was following after her. Not that she needs to. Hesitation may rear its head again, but Feyre is known for her determination and courage against the unknown. The sky is cast underneath a beautiful twilight when the two females step outside. The music is completely muffled when Feyre closes the door behind her. With her back leaning against the railing, Juno allows Feyre to begin. “Well? Let’s hear it.”

Her attitude is beginning to grate on Feyre’s nerves, but she will forever be the protector of the weak and helpless, especially if they’re a human. “How did you and Tamlin meet?”

“Careful. Is that jealousy in your tone?”

Feyre’s face scrunches into a grimace. “Hardly. I was just curious. In his beast form, Tamlin would sooner rip a human’s throat out than romance them. You must excuse me for being horrified that he brought you here today. No one could have predicted this.”

“That sounds like a you problem, chief.” Juno points out. “OK, listen. Fryer - ”

“It’s Feyre.” She corrected with her eyes narrowed dangerously. What in the Mother’s name is a Fryer!?

“Whatever. I want to find Tamlin and go home already. My social battery is drained for the next few months. Why don’t you just get on with it and say what you really want to instead of pretending to be all high and mighty about it? Tamlin’s right; morality really doesn’t suit you and that rapist you call a Mate.”

Anger blooms and spreads within Feyre. Her face is flushed red with indignation as she takes a threatening step towards the utterly blasé human. “Watch your tongue. You know nothing about Rhysand or me! O-Or what we’ve been through. You barely know anything about Tamlin as it is!”

Juno’s smile remains even when the Fae breaches her personal bubble. “I know plenty, and I didn’t even need to read any of the books! Your fandom is composed of roaches; they’re everywhere. On Tumblr, TikTok, and AO3 - you get the idea. And I gotta say, you’re the most disappointing YA heroine that I’ve ever had the displeasure to know about unwillingly. That says something since your contender is Bella Swan. How are you illiterate and stupid at the same time? Girl, pick a struggle.”

Confusion is now mixed with righteous anger, and magic begins to simmer underneath Feyre’s fingertips.

“How dare you,” The High Lady whispers menacingly. “I’m trying to save you from making the most fatal mistake you could’ve done in your short life, and you spit on my goodwill? You have no idea what you’re up against, mortal. Tamlin will kill you. That’s a promise. I strongly suggest you cut ties with him before he hurt you like he did to me.”

“Nah, he can’t.” Juno flippantly waved a dismissive hand before Feyre’s face as if swatting a fly. It’s a shame she’s too distracted to realise that the human female said ‘can’t’ instead of ‘no’. “Besides, I’m built differently; very Will Smitherently.I’m not weak or helpless like you, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

Feyre is so close to snapping and just lit this female on fire. Even Eris isn’t this obnoxious! Juno snickers, knowing that the ‘illiterate’ comment manages to dig under her skin. “So be it. It’s your funeral, after all. Shall I send Tamlin flowers when he inevitably does the deed? As congratulations, of course.”

“I do love flowers,” Juno hums in agreement. “Save your money; you look like the kind of woman who spends it on Starbucks anyway. Oh! Quick question: Is Nyx around?” Here, she curiously stares at Feyre’s stomach.

The sudden mention of her son’s name was the last straw for the High Lady. “You keep my son’s name out of your dirty mouth - “

“So you gave birth to him already? I got the timeline right, at least. Shame. I wanted to introduce you to the concept of abortion.”

Again, with the confounding words!

“Feyre darling? I could feel your magic from the other side of the palace. Is everything alright here?”

Rhysand Winnows to the balcony with Helion at his side. The High Lord of the Night Court watches the two females carefully. His arms open, but before Feyre can rush into his embrace, the human female hugs his Mate’s arm and cuddles close.

“We were just having a girl talk!” Juno beams and looks up at Feyre with an innocent expression. “The High Lady was kind enough to share her experiences regarding Mates. Why, we’re practically friends now!”

For that comment, it’s Feyre’s turn to forcefully shove the human off her and quickly return to Rhysand’s side. Juno merely pouts at the rough treatment.

“Lady Juno, how are you enjoying the party?” Helion easily steps in between the couple and the human female, sensing the tension as clear as day. Hah. “Forgive me for being a poor host. I would have loved to personally attend my most esteemed and mysterious guest if I wasn’t so busy.” He teases with a seducing trill in his voice. Unfortunately, Tamlin’s Mate reacted as she did during the meeting - uninterested and unbothered despite her friendly grin.

“Guess we have to take a rain check on that. Have you seen Tamlin? It’s time for us to go home.”

“I believe he’s in the library with Tarquin. Shall I escort you to him?”

“Thanks, but I can find it on my own. Lit party, Lord Helion. See you around.”

Juno nods at him. Before she returns to the dining hall, she passes by the Night Court couple. “You can’t handle my smoke, but I’d love to see you try, Fly-Fly. The two of you think you’re based for far too long.”

And with that, only 3 High Faes are left on the balcony.

“Based? Based on what?” Helion asks no one in particular.

#lady writes #fanfic #acotar #anti ic #anti sjm #modern girl in prythian au #pro tamlin

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nessianweek · 10 months

Text

✷ Announcing Nessian Week 2023! ✷

❤️‍🔥 Join us in celebrating Prythian's hottest couple for the third year in a row! ❤️‍🔥

Come celebrate Nesta and Cassian with us from September 10 through September 16, 2023! Feel free to participate in any way you can, from headcanons, fanart, moodboards, playlists, fics, drabbles…. no matter how big or small, anything celebrating Nessian is welcome! Please note this event will be happening on Tumblr, AO3, and Instagram (fanarts) only.

Please tag @nessianweek and use the tag #nessianweek2023 to spread the word!

Nessian Week 2022's masterlist can be found here, and Nessian Week 2021's masterlist can be found here!

This year's prompts are as follows:

Day One: What Happened Next? ✷ What do you think happened after the end of A Court of Silver Flames? Did Nesta and Cassian have their ornate mating ceremony, settle down with children, or something else altogether? We want to hear your interpretations of canon!

Day Two: Rivalry ✷ Nesta and Cassian weren’t quite enemies when they first met, but they certainly weren’t friends. How do you imagine them handling all that frustration with one another?

Day Three: Song Association ✷ What songs remind you of Nesta and Cassian?

Day Four: Alternate Universe ✷ What do you think Nesta and Cassian's lives would look like outside of canon? How would they live in the modern world, a completely different fantasy world, or within the plot of your favorite book or movie? [Non-Canon AUs requested]

Day Five: Home ✷ Home doesn’t always have to be a place — it can be a person, too. What do you think home means for Nesta and Cassian?

Day Six: Warriors ✷ As Lady Death and the Lord of Bloodshed, Nesta and Cassian are two of the most powerful characters we’ve seen, especially when they’re together. How do you see their powerful nature playing out both on and off the battlefield?

Day Seven: Free Day ✷ Any topic of your choosing!

We look forward to seeing everything that you create for this event, and make sure to tag @nessianweek once the event starts! Thank you so much to everyone who has contributed to planning this event, with special shoutouts to @talkfantasytome, @c-e-d-dreamer, @vidalinav, @melphss, @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk, @separatist-apologist, @the-lonelybarricade, @dustjacketmusings, and @isterofimias! Fanart credit to Aiphos!

Please contact this page if you have any questions about the event. We can't wait to see what you create to celebrate Nessian for the THIRD YEAR RUNNING!

#nessianweek2023 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta archeron x cassian #nesta x cassian #acotar #acosf #acomaf #acowar #acofas

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serpentandlily · 7 months

Text

Wicked Games

Dark!Batboys x Reader

Warnings: Violence, dark themes (will update per chapter)

Part II

Part I

༺♥༻

It had been too easy sneaking in through the back door of The Sidra, a huge building filled with luxury apartments only the top one-percent could afford. Too easy sneaking into the laundry rooms downstairs and finding a freshly cleaned maid’s uniform. And too easy convincing one of the maids on duty into believing you were a newly hired employee.

It wasn’t hard to play the role. You had worked as a cleaning lady before—at a motel when you were only sixteen. So it wasn’t long before she was dropping a keychain filled with master keys for each floor into the pocket of your apron and pushing a cleaning cart into your hands.

Before you knew it, you had an access card to the elevators in one pocket and those all too important keys in the other. You waited until no one else was near the elevators before slipping into one and immediately pressing the button that would take you to the penthouse.

According to your sources, aka one of your exes, one of the richest males in Prythian lived in that penthouse. A male who was rumored to make his money in a…less than legal way. And if you knew anything about those types, you knew they’d have cash stuffed into just about every hidden crevice of that apartment. Because that kind of dirty money never made it into banks.

You had tried to do some research on who was living here but it seemed like he was a rather elusive male. All you could find was a first name, Rhysand—and that he had ties to Velaris, the illustrious night club downtown.

It didn’t matter though. All that mattered was getting into this penthouse, finding his hidden stacks of cash and getting the hell out of here. You needed this money and this guy was rich enough that you doubted he’d even notice a measly six grand missing from his piles of cash.

But that six grand meant life or death for you. Because you needed to pay off the debt you owe your ex. You knew his patience with you was slipping and you were worried that for once he’d actually go through with his threats.

The elevator dinged, signaling you had made it to your destination. You stepped out of the elevator, leaving the cleaning cart behind, and found yourself in a grand corridor. There was only one direction to go, only one set of large double doors up here.

You knocked once. Twice. A third time. No answer, no noise, nothing. You thanked God for your luck today as you fumbled with your ring of master keys, trying to figure out which one worked for this door.

It took you longer than you liked but soon you were pushing the doors open and making your way into the insanely large penthouse. Your jaw dropped as you took in the place, envy crawling up your skin like thorny vines.

This place was…incredible. It was opulent, full of expensive looking furniture and high-tech electronics. You spun around, taking in everything. Jesus, the sitting area alone was larger than your own studio apartment. Everything looked so ornate and for this being the supposed bachelor pad for one of Prythian’s richest males, you were surprised by how elegant it all was.

But you quickly snapped yourself out of your admiration. You had a job to do. Find the money you needed and get out of here before someone returned. You checked the usual spots for hidden safes—behind paintings, where medicine cabinets should be, in closets. You cursed as you found nothing out of place.

That was until you stumbled upon a large painting of three mountaintops with a star painted above each in the master bedroom. It was incredibly heavy, but you managed to get it off the wall and nearly let out a squeal of joy when you caught sight of the safe built into the wall. You pulled out the small electronic stethoscope that you had found at a pawn shop years ago and got to work with cracking the safe.

It was one of the skills your ex had taught you. A skill that had come in handy quite a few times. And you were particularly good at this part. So good that you had the safe opened within the hour. Your jaw dropped as the door clicked open and revealed piles and piles of cash, some gems and gold chains. You were half tempted to take it all but restrained yourself.

Just enough. You needed to take just enough to pay off your debt…and maybe some extra for rent this month. Just to get you back on track with your payments. Still, just a small amount that hopefully would go unnoticed. You opened the satchel you had hidden under the maid apron and started tossing stacks into your bag.

Once you were certain you had enough, you closed the safe and went through the strenuous process of hanging the large painting back up on the wall. You were sweating a bit as you finished, wiping your clammy hands on the apron.

Now all you had to do was get the fuck out of here. You could not believe your luck as you made your way back to the front door. Could not believe that everything had gone exactly to plan.

Which is why you shouldn’t have been surprised at the sound of a key unlocking the front door. Of course it wouldn’t have been that easy. Fuck. You looked around quickly, spotting a closet in the hallway and managed to slid yourself into it right as the front doors opened. You held your breath as three large men came walking in, the two in the back lugging in another person whose head was covered with a burlap sack.

Your eyes widened as you took in the scene, your heart beginning to pound in your chest. The male who led the group forward was one of the most handsome males you had ever seen. He was wearing a finely tailored suit, his tie loosened around his neck. His hair was short, a dark blue-black color which suited his golden skin.

The two guys holding up their captive were equally attractive, if not more. One was huge, taller than the other two, with muscles cut from stone like a God. He had shoulder length dark brown hair that had been pulled into a bun and wore black pants and a white button-up shirt with his sleeves folded up to his elbows, exposing his veiny forearms.

The other male was just straight up beautiful. His features were more elegant than the other two, as if a romantic artist had spent their whole life carefully crafting him out of clay. He also had dark brown hair, cut short like the first guy, and golden skin that matched the other two. His face was expressionless, unreadable, and that made him look all the more lethal.

The two guys dropped the captive to his knees and yanked the burlap sack off his head. You nearly gasped in surprise as you recognized him. He was known widely in the criminal world as “The Attor.” He was a slimy looking male who used all sorts of weird torture methods to get his victims to talk. Last you heard of him, he was working with Hybern, one of the many gang leaders in Prythian.

“Are you going to talk now?” The male in the suit purred. He sat down in one of the plush armchairs, resting his ankle over a knee. He held an air of authority and you guessed that he was the leader here.

“Fuck you, Rhysand,” The Attor spat, wiggling to try and break free of his bonds.

Ah, so this was the famed Rhysand. You had expected someone older, someone maybe in their fifties. But this guy couldn’t be older than thirty. And god, he was so hot. Most criminals were ugly, aging men. Nothing like the handsome devil who sat in his chair like it was a throne.

Rhysand merely chuckled before running a finger down the armrest of his chair. “Tell us what Hybern’s planning and I might just decide to let you leave with your life.”

But The Attor just spat at his feet. “You and I both know I’ve been a dead man since your dogs caught me.”

The lethal looking male snarled at that. The noise was so animalistic, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re right, you have been,” Rhysand answered with amusement. “And now I tire of our games.” He nodded at the male who had snarled. “Kill him,” he ordered.

Before you could even process those words, the man yanked a blade out of his pocket and swiftly stabbed it straight through The Attor’s throat. A small gasp escaped your mouth as red blood sputtered out of the wound and the man slumped to the ground, his eyes glazing over. You quickly slammed a hand over your mouth, praying to God that they hadn’t heard your slip-up. But you had never seen someone killed before. You had only ever dealt with petty criminals, mostly thieves.

“Did you hear that?” The one built like a God asked, his eyes narrowing as they swept over the place.

You smothered yourself further with your hand, pressing your body against the wall of the closet—as far from the door as you could get.

“I did,” the lethal one answered, yanking his dagger from the dead man’s neck and wiping it clean on his clothes before returning it to his own pocket.

“Who’s here?” Rhysand called out, standing up.

The other two began to search through the room, their footsteps surprisingly silent. You squeezed your eyes shut and sank onto the floor, praying and praying that they wouldn’t look in the closet, that they wouldn’t find you. As a few moments passed, you were beginning to grow hopeful.

But then the closet doors were yanked open and you were being pulled out by your upper arms. You let out a small cry as you opened your eyes to see the lethal one staring down at you, his face impassive as he dragged you into the sitting room and tossed you onto the floor next to the dead man’s body.

You let out a whimper, your apron soaking up some of the blood on the floor.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves an intruder,” he called out, gaining the attention of the other two who returned from wherever they had been searching.

Rhysand stepped forward, looking down at you in surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected to find one of the maids hiding in his closet. Your whole body tensed as the corners of his lips ticked up. This close now, you could see the unusual color of his eyes, a rich shade of blue that almost looked violet.

“Well what do we have here?” His voice was so sensual, bringing color to your cheeks. “What a pretty little mouse you’ve caught, Az.”

“I’d say so,” the other one smirked, his eyes roaming your face. But you kept your attention on the leader.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I was cleaning in the bedroom when I heard the ruckus and…I swear I won’t tell anyone what I saw. I’m sorry. Please, just let me go,” you pleaded, quivering under his amused stare.

“That’s odd,” he said, tilting his head at you. “I didn’t schedule any cleaning services today.”

You blinked, trying to come up with another lie. “I-I’m a new hire, sir. I only d-did as I was told.”

He stroked his jaw, glancing at the other two men who stood behind you. “Interesting. You know, I didn’t happen to see any cleaning supplies when I was looking around just now. Did you two see any during your search?”

“Nope,” the bigger one chimed. You could hear the smile in his voice. The other one must’ve shaken his head because Rhysand looked back down at you.

“I-I…” you choked on your own words. Fuck, how were you going to get yourself out of this one? You were screwed. So fucking screwed. You were going to die right here just like the man next to you.

Rhysand stepped forward before bending down on his haunches in front of you. A pathetic whimper fell from your lips as you backed away, only to run into a pair of legs. You gulped, looking up to see the pretty one staring down at you, that unfeeling face sent another shiver through your body.

“You’re not a maid, are you, little mouse?” Rhysand purred, reaching a gloved hand out to brush some hair from your face. You were shaking like a leaf now, as you found yourself surrounded by three dangerous males.

Fuck, you were going to die. All twenty-one years of your life wasted just to die here, likely never to be found. Not that anyone would be looking for you or miss you. You had grown up in foster care, never knowing who your parents were.

“I-I am,” you lied. “I swear it.”

Rhysand clicked his tongue, giving you a mocking frown. “What a pretty little liar you are. I don’t like liars, little mouse. Do you know what I like to do to the people who lie to me?”

You shook your head, not able to form any words. He gave you a wolfish grin and pointed a finger at the dead body on the ground, blood still oozing from the wound on his neck. You whimpered again, a few pathetic tears now slipping from your eyes.

“Oh, don’t cry, pretty girl,” Rhysand purred. “It would be a waste to kill a little thing like you. Don’t you agree?”

Your head was spinning now.

“What…what do you want from me?” Your voice shook, making you feel even more pathetic. Rhysand smiled again but it was not reassuring—more like a predator showing off its sharp teeth.

He glanced up at the other two. “What do you guys think? Should we let this little mouse go or should we punish her for her trespassing?”

“We don’t even know what she’s here for yet,” the pretty one said. His voice was as dark as him and just as cold.

You used this time to glance towards the front door, noting how far away it was. You could make a break for it. You were a fast runner and you had the advantage of being smaller and more agile than them.

It could go horrible but you had to try. You had to try and get out of here before they did whatever it was they wanted to you. You would only have one shot, one chance.

Before any of them could notice you plotting, you scooped a handful of blood from the floor and flicked it into Rhysand’s face. He let out a noise of surprise and you used the distraction to slip between the other two and dart towards the door.

You could hear their yells from behind you but didn’t look back as you yanked the door open and sprinted into the hallway. You bypassed the elevators and slammed into the stairway.

You could hear footsteps running behind you and you pushed yourself to run faster, hopping over railings to other floors when you could. You burst through the door leading into one of the other floors and sprinted down the hallway.

A man was leaving his apartment, his eyes glued to the phone in his hand. You pushed him out of your way and slipped into the open door, ignoring his curse from behind you. You ran into the bedroom, darting for the window.

You let out a small cry of relief when you noticed it was connected to a fire escape. You quickly pushed it open and flung yourself through the window, landing with a thud on the metal landing.

You didn’t waste any time climbing down the ladders from landing to landing. You had made decent progress by the time one of the males had figured out where you had gone. The metal fire escape rattled with both of your weights now on it, but you continued climbing down until you reached the bottom.

As soon as you landed on the ground, you took off down an alleyway—twisting and turning down different paths, trying to keep them off your trail. Unlike those rich pricks, you knew the underside of this city like the back of your hand.

As soon as you were confident you had lost them, you found a spot in the shadows to rip the maid uniform off. You tossed it on the ground and quickly got dressed back into the clothes you had brought in your bag.

Once you had pulled on the jeans and jacket, you tossed the hood up and slung your bag back over your shoulder. This time you made your way to a busy street, hoping to get lost in the crowd.

You didn’t let out a breath of relief until you were on the subway, on the line that would take you back to your neighborhood where your shitty apartment would be waiting for you.

You bit your lip, unzipping your bag to make sure all the money you had stolen was accounted for. You finally let out a breath and rested your head against the cold wall of the subway cart.

You had fucking done it. You had stolen from one of the richest men in Prythian and gotten away with it.

༺♥༻

“This is only six grand, bunny,” your ex, Tamlin, said with a small frown. “Where’s the rest?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I owed you six grand, right? That’s what you said. It’s all there.”

“Oh, bunny, you owed me six grand last week,” Tamlin replied, pushing some of his blonde hair away from his face as he looked up at you. You bounced from one foot to the other, standing in front of his desk. “It’s seven thousand, five hundred now—you know, because of interest.”

“What?” You breathed out. “You never mentioned anything about interest!”

Tamlin chuckled, sitting back in his chair. “I did. You must’ve not understood. It’s okay, bunny, not all of us can be smart. It’s a good thing you’ve got that pretty face of yours to get by. But I’ll take this for now. I’ll need the rest by next week, though. And it’ll be an extra one thousand, eight hundred seventy five by then.”

“You can’t be serious! Tam, I—do you know what it took to get that money! Please, I’m begging you. Can’t this be it? An extra thousand dollars is nothing but petty cash to you. Please.”

“I don’t think so, bunny,” Tamlin responded with a mockingly sad voice. “You see, you lost those kinds of privileges when you broke up with me. I could’ve taken care of all of this for you but you’re the one who wanted to cut ties. So now you have to play by the same rules as everyone else.”

“This is ridiculous, please,” you begged. You were willing to get on your knees at this point. All you wanted was to be done with this—done with him. “I can barely afford rent. Barely feed myself. I won’t be able to get you another grand by next week.”

“That stopped being my problem a long time ago, bunny,” Tamlin said, all niceties gone from his voice now as he stood from his desk, placing his palms flat against the surface. “Get the money to me by next week. I’d hate to see that pretty little face of yours ruined. Do you understand?”

You scoffed but Hart, one of his guards, took a step closer to you, so you swallowed your pride, ignored the tears building in your eyes, and nodded your head. You quickly left the room, made a quick exit from the warehouse and started the long walk back to your apartment.

How the hell were you going to get more money for him? He was doing this on purpose, still upset with you for breaking up with him. You wiped at the angry tears spilling down your face. Would you ever be able to pay him off? Would you ever be able to get rid of his presence in your life?

You kicked at the loose concrete pebbles on the ground as you made your way home. You kept your hood on, head ducked towards the ground to avoid any unwanted attention. Now that you no longer had Tamlin’s protection, the men in this neighborhood had gotten rowdier with you.

Once you reached your apartment building, you took two stairs at a time to get to the fourth floor, wincing as you heard Marcus yelling at his wife again for the third time today. You wished she’d put a kitchen knife through his gut and do your whole neighborhood a favor.

You pulled your cheap, burner phone out of your pocket along with your keys, ready to call your friend Valerie to bitch and moan about Tamlin as soon as you were inside.

But apparently God had other plans.

As soon as you flicked on the lights to your apartment, your phone slipped out of your hands and landed with a thud on the floor. Your eyes widened, your heart plummeted all the way to your stomach as your gaze fell on a pair of unusual violet eyes.

Rhysand.

Rhysand was sitting there on your dingy mattress, his nice clothes a stark contrast to your fraying sheets. He gave you a grin that could rival the devil’s.

“There you are, little mouse,” he purred. “I’ve been looking for you.”

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