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#tamlin
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Really loved this scene after the battle 😭
“Be happy, Feyre.”
Chapter 77
Pg. 670 (Kindle edition)
🎨: chelzd_art
Commission by rizzo.reads88
Both on Instagram!!!
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Feyre: if you take me from my mate, I’ll destroy your court and everything you hold dear
Tamlin: takes Feyre from her mate
Feyre: destroys his court and everything he holds dear
Tamlin:
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littlefeltsparrow · 3 days
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There’s a problem with the way Sarah J Maas depicts physical abuse/intimidation in ACOTAR
The fact that Tamlin’s physical abuse of Feyre being communicated through a magical/emotional outburst is problematic in the sense that it undercuts the reason why abuse happens. Incorporating magical concepts into a portrayal of domestic violence muddles the issue at hand and makes the abuse an accidental consequence of involuntary magical impulses as opposed to a deliberate tactic of intimidation and control. This issue is exacerbated by the fact that Feyre too, experiences an uncontrollable magical/emotional outburst during the High Lords meeting due to Beron’s provocative remarks. To be clear, I don’t view Tamlin as detestable or as an irredeemable abuser, but the text very much does. What I want to comment on is the problematic framing of Tamlin’s actions that are meant to characterize him as an abusive partner to Feyre.
So, I’m going to compare and contrast a scene from ACOMAF with a scene from ACOWAR, both of which depict magical outbursts that are brought on by intense emotional stress or rage.
ACOMAF
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Here, Feyre objects to Tamlin’s protective measures he had enacted earlier. She expresses how suffocated she feels and how she wishes that she had the breathing room to cope with her new reality and that Tamlin’s actions are making her suffer. Furthermore, Feyre introduces her doubt in their engagement and expresses her reservations. Tamlin then goes blank, reacting explosively with his power blowing the room into splinters.
This is a good first step towards characterizing Tamlin as an abusive partner (despite the leaps it took to get there) But, where it goes wrong is the emphasis the text puts on Tamlin's blank expression and subsequent magical response. He loses control momentarily, but the issue about this portrayal is that abuse is not "losing control" or accidental, it is a conscious decision made by the abuser. But here, Maas makes it seem as though Tamlin really was not in control, that the heightened emotions made him react that way.
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It gives Tamlin an out and consequently undercuts the message Maas is trying to communicate. Bringing magic into the scene takes away Tamlin's agency and removes a portion of his culpability in harming Feyre.
This scene should not have been Tamlin simply losing control of his temper, if Maas wanted to enhance her abuse narrative, she should have taken Tamlin’s temper and had him weaponize it. Intimidation is a possibility, one that would work towards making Feyre feel scared about voicing ver true feelings on their relationship. But Maas doesn’t go all the way, she doesn’t lean into that interpretation and instead plays it straight.
This is also undercut by Tamlin's second magical outburst in ACOWAR. Feyre intentionally provoking him does nothing for Maas's abuse narrative and actively undermines it by strengthening the idea that Tamlin's destructive outbursts really were caused by overwhelming emotions. Once again, it gives Tamlin a way out and dilutes the message.
The notion of an involuntary magical outburst is applied again in ACOWAR
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Beron’s inflammatory remarks provoke an immediate reaction from Feyre, she goes blank so to speak, and can no longer focus due to the intensity of her emotions. This manifests in a fiery outburst that throws the meeting into disarray and injures the Lady of Autumn accidentally.
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She’s so angry that she can’t think straight or logically, and it manifests in an attack. Though this isn't exactly the same, Feyre's "blinding fury" is so powerful that it cannot be restrained and ends up harming an innocent party. This moment strengthens the case for magic manifesting strong emotions as external attacks, characterizing it to some extent as involuntary.
Ultimately, the magical element removes the agency of the individuals in question. It frames their violence not as a conscious act designed to inspire fear, but as a genuinely accidental reaction to intense emotions. This is why the "Tamlin is an evil abuser" narrative is so weak. Because it dilutes the severity of the violence and makes it seem as though these kinds of emotional outbursts are an element of possessing magical powers. It gestures at a larger issue of Maas picking and choosing when and where she wants to apply real-world standards to her characters' morality. It makes events less believable and hypocritical, making allowances for certain characters, but condemning others without adequate narrative set-up.
This is why Maas is fundamentally incapable of recognizing the abusive dynamic she constructs with Feysand. It is a combination of double standards, authorial bias and a misunderstanding of how abuse manifests.
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achaotichuman · 3 days
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I got bored so I made this.
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It’s Tamlin!
Picrew link
@sonics-atelier, @siriuslytamlin, @decadentpostnachos-evil-twin, @lorcandidlucienwill, @fell-in-luvs, @shi-daisy, @sadisticdevile
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mossytrashcan · 3 days
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I can’t wait for when sjm writes a genderpent acotar in honor of its 50th birthday
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mika-no-sekai-blog · 2 days
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Word count: 2800+
Warnings: mentions of blood, nausea
I lightly edited it, but as I have headache I probably didn't notice quite a lot of mistakes. I know I could try another time, but I'm afraid this will take few days
Part XIV | Part XVI
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Even days after your conversation with Feyre, your mind was often returning back to Tamlin with more worries than sadness. You somehow assumed that he didn't miss you as much as you missed him and that he most likely forgot about you and moved on, focusing on his court and its restoration. Otherwise he would stop Rhys back then or he would come to visit you or at least tried to contact you. But what if he couldn't? What if Feyre was right and Tamlin was hurt by your departure?
You wanted to ask somebody about Tamlin and his wellbeing, needed it, but who would answer you? Who could have such information?
Rhys, as High Lord, most likely knew what was happening in Spring Court. However he wouldn't tell you. You dismissed the thought as soon as it occurred to you because, well, now you knew your brother well. Although he left Tamlin alive, angry wasn't a strong enough word to describe his feelings toward him. And except of his family, Rhysand hardly forgave and definitely never forgot.
Another person who could know something, was Azriel. As a spymaster he for sure kept an eye on other courts. He was kind and nice to you, but no matter what feelings he had, his loyalty to your brother was on the first place. If you asked him, he could tell about it to Rhys and then it would be even more difficult to learn anything from anyone.
Feyre mentioned the redhead, Lucien, who claimed to be Tamlin's friend. You hadn't seen him around, but apparently he came for visit from time to time. He seemed to be the only possible choice. Only problem was how to contact him.
Tamlin wasn't the only one occupying your mind. In moments when you weren't thinking about him, your mind filled with old memories and feelings that Rhys revived. You had only one sitting with him so far and even though it was days ago, you were still confused and needed time to process it.
The memories made your life easier in certain ways. You didn't feel so out of place, so homesick anymore. This place changed, but people even though a bit older where still the same. Your current feelings kept mixing together with the old ones and you couldn't say how you felt about individual members of your family and that was main reason of the chaos in your heart.
Thankfully there was Azriel always ready to patiently listen to your rambling which helped you clarify your thoughts and slowly work through it. He never failed you and advised you wisely, guided you when you got lost.
And so it happened that you started meeting him more often, sometimes spending even all day long with him. You were afraid to leave Rhys' property because of the possibility to be again engulfed in the smell of magic. In order to get rid of the stress fresh air and mainly the contact with nature were very important for you. Therefore you were mostly outside, walking together in the garden, rarely staying inside of the house.
The garden around the house was large, kind of smaller park, full of flowers and surprisingly even herbs. It reminded you of your life in the forest and walks with Tamlin. You always picked up some herbs and Azriel made you a tea out of them. In the evening you sat together on the terrace, sipping your teas and silently watched the setting sun. However peaceful these moments were, they weren't perfect and you always missed something. It was unsettling.
Your life was changing little by little, but you weren't content with it. You knew you loved your brother and his two best friends, Mor became kind of friend, although still far from the relationship you had before memory loss, but better than last few weeks. Amren was complicated. You hardly met her at all, so it didn't matter much. You liked even Feyre. However her sisters were different case.
You didn't mind Nesta. She wasn't kind, but she wasn't bad or mean to you. She just.. was. The oldest of the sisters had enough of own problems to solve. And Elain? Before you hardly saw her, now you were meeting her wherever you went. She was like your shadow, staring and frowning at you every time you looked in her direction.
There were also small incidents. Salt in your drinks, dirt on clothes Rhys gave you, that just came back from washing, small amounts of grass, dirt or mud raining on you while you took a walk in the garden alone. At first you tried to ignore it. However the situation was escalating and it was hard to ignore now. You didn't want to point a finger to the culprit, but you knew who's doing it was.
After some time when you didn't react, culprit took it even further. Now it wasn't only following you around and angry looks. Every time you spoke with Azriel Elain appeared and totally ignoring the fact you were in the middle of conversation she started telling him about flowers or something that just happened to her.
Azriel was shocked at first, but as it repeated daily, you knew him enough to notice he was starting to be fed up by her behaviour. Still he tried to be gentleman and gently dismissed her, pointing out the fact that he was busy with something else which she paid no attention to and kept talking, flashing smiles at him.
At those awkward moments, well, you rather backed up. Giving up on your favourite time with Azriel was the best and easiest thing to do to prevent being in the center of the drama. Whatever was between the two of them, it had nothing to do with you. Or that was what you believed. You just assured Azriel that it's okay, that you could talk later and left.
One afternoon, after being again interrupted by Elain, you were wandering through the house aimlessly when you heard an angry voice coming from behind the Rhys' closed office doors. Normally you would ignore it and leave quickly to give him privacy, but when you heard Tamlin's name, you couldn't help it and came closer listening.
"I'm telling you, Rhysand, it's much worse than before. If we don't do something and very quickly, it'll be too late," the voice snarled. That voice. You had already heard it somewhere. But where?
"She is the only one who can help him. Let her at least visit him and talk with him.."
"No," you heard Rhys flatly refuse. "In this state Tamlin is too dangerous. He could hurt her."
"I'm sure he won't."
"Look at yourself. You are his closest friend, yet he would turn you into shreds if you didn't winnow away fast enough. I won't risk her life." Closest friend? Was it possible that the fox-like redhead was in Rhys' office now?
"He seems to have feelings for her and pretty deep ones. Otherwise he wouldn't be so broken after you snatched her away," Lucien snapped.
"Don't dare you!"
There was silence for a moment.
"Your sister is the only person who can help him get out of it. We both know it," Lucien said lowly, his voice still angry, but he tried to speak more calmly. With his every word your heart clenched so painfully that if you looked down at your chest, you were sure you would see a deep gaping wound there.
"You may not agree, but this isn't something you can decide. We ought to ask your sister what she wants. What she thinks. You've already decided for her that she has to come here with you, however, I heard that she doesn't like it. That she isn't happy here and wants to return to Spring Court. If that's the true you can't hold her here against her will."
"You would be surprised how much has changed since your last visit." Now Rhysand was definitely mad, his deep voice icy, dangerous. You hoped Lucien was smart enough not to annoy your brother even more. It could cost him too much.
"If you want to save Spring Court, she is the best shot we have. Think about it carefully. There's little time left."
You didn't need to stay to know what Rhysand answered him. It was too clear. With wildly beating heart you left unnoticed. You knew their conversation was over. Rhysand didn't want to even think about your return to Spring.
You didn't hear what exactly happened to Tamlin, but it wasn't necessary at the moment. You were already too worried after talking with Feyre. However now wasn't the time for that. You had to act. This was the chance you hoped for. Lucien was here and you had to take an advantage of it. He would leave soon, but you needed to talk with him before that, somewhere nobody could see you or hear you.
You hid into a dark alcove in a hall that Lucien had to pass on his way out and waited. Long time nothing happened, house was too silent and you started to worry that he left through the garden. You shut eyes, tears gathering in them, your head fell back against the wall. You missed him, your only chance to learn something about Tamlin.
A sound of angry footsteps filled the hall. Somebody was coming your way. You held your breath, peeking from your hideaway. As the person passed by the window his hair caught the light, shining brightly as a fire. You breathed a sigh of relieve. It was Lucien.
When he was only few inches from your alcove you whispered. "We need to talk."
Lucien's eyes widened, following your voice to the darkness you hid in. It took only a second. He halted and bending down he pretended to adjust his shoelaces. "Where?" he whispered. Really clever of him. You smiled.
"Meet me in the garden. Under the oak tree."
Without another word he stood up and left. You waited long enough and then stepped out from your hideaway. Walking slowly as if nothing happened, you headed to the opposite direction. You passed the terrace and stepped into the garden. Pretending to be on one of your strolls, you walked until the house disappeared behind the dense grove.
A massive oak tree grew in the farthest part of the grounds, hidden from prying eyes. It was ideal place for secret meeting. You looked around. You were all alone. You hoped Lucien would be already waiting here, but maybe he couldn't find this place even though this was the only oak tree in the garden. You sat down dejectedly between two strong roots and pulled knees to your chest, praying to the forgotten gods for a pinch of luck.
"I hoped to see you around," male's voice came from behind your back. You turned around, eyes wide. You didn't hear him come. Lucien stood there leaning against the tree trunk, hands crossed on his chest, playful smirk on his face. "And meanwhile you came to me."
He reminded you of a curious fox, his russet and gold eyes scanned you from head to toes. His smirk disappeared and jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. "I shouldn't have mentioned you in front of him," he muttered more to himself than to you.
You were curious what it was about, but you didn't ask. You were sure you already know the answer. You decided to get straight to the point.
"I heard what you and Rhys were talking about." With a thoughtful expression he scanned you one more time.
"You are really interesting being," he muttered. "I didn't know we had company. But I didn't sense you in that hallway either."
You shrugged. "What happened to Tamlin?"
His lips pressed into a thin line, he seemed to be considering whether to answer you.
"I don't care what Rhys says or wants. In this case. Tell me everything."
He ran hand through his long red hair and sighing sat down astride on one of higher roots. He leaned back against trunk and looked into the garden.
"It's bad with him," he sighed, worried.
"Is he hurt?"
"No, I guess not yet. But.. Do you remember the state he was in when you two met?"
You nodded. "He was quite wounded."
"I didn't mean his physical state," he snorted.
"I wasn't talking about his physical state. He was depressed. So much that he didn't want to eat and drink. He had also nightmares."
"Ah." Lucien stayed silent for a few heartbeats. His voice was grave. "It's even worse now. He won't change from his beast form, snarling like wild animal, lashing his claws all around. When I went to talk with him, he tried to kill me. I don't know whether you've been in his manor, but it's in catastrophic state. Like some beast's lair. He quite destroyed it.."
Your heart grew heavier with each word. Pain in your chest and behind your eyes was almost unbearable. "Why do you think I can help him? You are his friend. You could do that, too."
Lucien's brows raised and his lips slowly parted in a grin. "Tell me. Do you know the reason why he gave you that pendant you're hiding? What it symbolises?" Your brows furrowed, but before you could open your mouth he continued. "It's not that I don't want to help him. Otherwise I wouldn't be here, right? Unfortunately I can't help him. Nobody can. Except of you." His gold mechanical eye turned too you.
It didn't make sense. Why couldn't anyone else help him? You gritted teeth.
Your fingers touched the pendant through the fabric of your clothes. How could he know about this? You took it out only in your room when you were alone. The only person who saw it was Feyre. You looked up at him.
"You didn't answer me."
He rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed by your incomprehension. "You really didn't notice? I saw you two together for a short while and noticed. For Tamlin you aren't just an ordinary friend. Whether he acknowledge it or no, he seems to have quite deep feelings for you. The pendant is proof of that. Roses have a very special meaning for him."
You turned away from him, so Lucien couldn't see your face. You were shocked by his assertion and.. hurt. That was not true. He couldn't be further from the truth. Tamlin.. he didn't need you. Last time you were together he was already fully healed, ready to leave the cottage and you behind and return to his duties. The pendant was just a gift of gratitude. There wasn't anything else behind that.
You bit down on you lip so hard you drew the blood. This just added to your overall confusion and there wasn't enough time to start spiralling now. It was only a matter of minutes before someone would start looking for you. So you pushed those thoughts away, decided to think about it later.
"What can I do to help him?"
Lucien straightened, intrigued by the change of subject. He exhaled deeply. "The best would be if you went to him. I think he needs to see you, have you close enough to touch to have some effect on him."
"I don't think Rhys would allow it."
"I've already heard his opinion," Lucien grimaced. "His is as stubborn as-"
"Be careful what you say," you snarled. "He's my brother."
Lucien gaped at you. With open mouth. "Are you kidding me? Last time I was here you couldn't stand him. Nobody here. Feyre said you-"
"Stop messing around and rather tell something I could actually do for Tamlin," you interrupted him for the second time.
He seemed to want to say something to that. His eyes narrowed at you, but changing mind the fox-like male closed his mouth and instead looked around the garden, thinking. "As I said before, your visit would be the most helpful. Maybe.. maybe you could try to write him. I'm sure he'll chew it up before finding out who sent it, but who knows. Even stranger things happened."
"I'd have to go to the house. Somebody could notice." Sudden smell of magic took your breath away and a wave of nausea rose in your throat.
Lucien handed you two sheets of paper and pen. "Is it enough?"
You just nodded with clenched teeth and taking the writing tools you stood up, walking away from him. He didn't need to know what you were writing. When you were done, you put the letter into an envelope, sealed it and handed it back to redhead.
"It better work," the sighed. "I'll let you know if he reads it or replies." With that he winnowed away.
You stayed seated under the oak tree, thinking about Tamlin and things Lucien told you, until Azriel came looking for you.
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Taglist:
@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia
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loneliestluvr · 2 days
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i long for the spring court I SAID IT IM SORRY—
UGH IDK CAUSE I LOVE CASSIAN SO MUCH BUT THE SPRING COURT HONESTLY JUST— as long as lucien is there it’ll be okay. tamlin is like my twin so as hot as he probably is, it would just look like we were siblings.
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like… uhhhh yes??? i would thrive. books, sunshine, fresh air, sunbathing, swimming in pools of starlight, good food, lucien vanserra <33 yeah, im down.
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RIP Rhysand you would’ve loved mens wearhouse
RIP Cassian you would’ve loved gymshark
RIP Azriel you would’ve HATED social media
RIP Feyre you would’ve loved Bob Ross tutorials
RIP Nesta you would’ve loved Call Her Daddy
RIP Elain you would’ve loved Great British Baking Show
RIP Mor you would’ve loved drive through liquor stores
RIP Amren you would’ve loved Charming Charlie’s
RIP Lucien you would’ve loved We Can’t Be Friends (Wait For Your Love) -Ariana Grande
RIP Tamlin you would’ve loved alpha male podcasts
RIP Helion you would’ve loved Tinder
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tamlin: locks feyre up right after a deeply traumatic event out of impulse and needing to control his environment and to protect feyre
Rhysand: deliberately and systemically removes Nesta from her home and forces her to live in a house with a man she repeatedly has said she wanted nowhere near her or else be hunted for sport in the human lands while also demolishing her home
hm. HM.
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b00kdiary · 23 hours
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Unpopular Acotar opinion:
Tamlin doesn’t need a redemption arc - he needs a healing arc.
I think he has earned his redemption (or at least part of it) through his actions in ACOWAR:
- Exposing his cover in Hyberns camp to help Feyre escape
- Coming with what little army/support he had left to help during the war (even after Feyre destroyed his Court and left them defenceless)
- “Be happy, Feyre” ???
He saved Rhysands life!!! He did not have to do that. If he were a true villain, he would have let Rhys die, would have wanted Feyre to suffer.
Yes, he has a LONG way to go but if (hopeful when) we get some kind of Tamlin book I hope that man finds peace, I hope he heals. I want him to find happiness.
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some interesting things i've noted during my ACOTAR reread Pt. 2
*SPOILER WARNING for those who haven’t completed the series*
I finished ACOTAR a few weeks ago but I haven't gotten the chance to transfer my notes until now. Once again, names have been color-coded!
Feyre couldn’t keep her mouth shut only around Rhys. It’s almost like her true self comes out around him.
Anytime Feyre calls on some strength, the image of Nesta comes to mind. She sees Nesta as strong and admires her for that.
A queen without a throne
Are tattooed bargains a night court specialty? I was listening through the graphic audio, as a reminder, so some things slip through.
Pearls in Nesta’s hair. It makes me think of the pearl jewelry Elain later receives from Lucien. I think pearl is meant to represent luxury, and it seems to complement their features.
Elain is the only one with their father’s eyes and I always found it interesting. How similar is Elain to her father? Her father favored her, but I think that’s only because Nesta was cold and Feyre was busy.
Warrior beast vs half-wild beast, Tamlin and Feyre bonding for being unrefined (Disney Beauty and the Beast reference?)
“Don’t ever disobey me again” is honestly not the vibe, Tictac.
I don’t like knowing Tamlin’s anger is on a tight leash with Feyre. He’s angry at her. It feels overprotective in such a suffocating way.
“There you are, I’ve been looking for you.” SOB
The most beautiful man she’s ever seen
Blue eyes so deep they were violet
They just stared at each other! As if in a daze! 
Night pressed in closer around him, smiling
Molded from the night itself, star-kissed night
I have a random “until dawn” note… idk
Cauldron boil me (double, double, toil and trouble… sorry, random silly thought)
Elain began learning to grow veggies! Reminder, the soil at the cottage was crap, it couldn't sustain the veggies. Elain could barely grow flowers. People keep forgetting that Feyre was their only access to nourishment because there was no other choice. Sweet Elain gets so much hate for not using her gardening skills to help, but it was set up so that she couldn't.
Nesta’s iron-will allowed her to resist glamour! I want more on Nesta’s strength. This is one of many reasons why I’ve been a Nesta stan since day one. I know she was cruel but we’re told why in book one. She wanted her father to do something, anything: be a father and care for them. I’m not saying it was any excuse to be cruel, but they were in a shitty situation and she showed her love for her family in other ways. Being willing to lay down her life for Elain? Going after Feyre even knowing it was risky? Asking to be taught to paint? She loves her sisters, she just shows it differently.
Heart of Stone was mentioned for a second time! hehe
Wyyyyyyyyrrrrmmmmmm. I’m a fan of giant worms (Dune, Star Wars). Fun fact about me: I went through a short phase where I just kept writing about worms.
Feyre deems Elain as stronger for being hopeful. She sees so much strength in her sisters and admires them for their differences.
Love Nesta! More Nesta love. She wondered what a woman might do with a fortune and a name. She wanted to travel! She wanted that independence! Pre-war Nesta hurts to experience. She’s opening up now that she’s safe socioeconomically and physically. It makes me wonder what else would have begun to heal if she got more of that peace and security.
Rhys: because I’m tired and lonely. The things he does and willingly puts himself through to protect his court and anyone else he can spare. Love his complexity.
(apparently there's a character limit for each block of text so here's a lil divider)
Honestly? I was vibing with the Tamlin romance, it was chill. The bite was nice. UNTIL Rhys appeared. Timtam just seems so stale in comparison. The chemistry is immediate between Rhys and Feyre, the tension is palpable. I’m still not over how Feyre chose Tampon over Lucien. why would I pick someone so clumsy with affection and who isn’t around nearly as much as the sassy redhead who bickers with me like an old friend? Rhys > Lucien > Tamlin is the order at the moment, and the order will stay until I have to consider the other boys (wait for me batboys).
Tamlin’s dad was Amarantha’s friend! They fought together in the war. Rhys’ father killed Tamlin’s, so Amarantha took Rhys in as a lover as punishment. Amarantha is so greedy honestly, and it's so gross. She wants Tamlin and Rhys but the only reason Tamlin hasn’t been forced like Rhys is that she wants to be chosen, she wants him to come to her willingly
Even in their last moments together, Rhys and Feyre are honest with each other. Honest in a way I've never seen her with Tamlin.
Very excited to begin ACOMAF, my fave book of the series.
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Does anyone else think about how Andras is essentially the Spring Court’s Church Grim?
He was the first fae to be murdered and buried in the books by Feyre. Later on, she leaves the spring court vulnerable and Hybern invades it, her being the catalyst for its ruin. Does anyone else think about the Spring Court becoming a cemetery, a ghost of its former self, and the phantom of a black wolf now watches over the dead? Protecting them? With all the devotion he had for his home when he was still alive?
Anyways, Andras/Tamlin shipping hours
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bluetimeombre · 1 month
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.
You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.
[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]
warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.
Part 2 soon…
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The first, was the worst...
You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.
But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.
And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.
Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.
Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.
You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.
Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.
Just to show him you could.
'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.
You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'
It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.
It was the last time you'd feel your wings.
The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.
You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.
All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.
Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.
You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.
The gates opened with a sickening clash.
One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'
You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.
'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'
Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.
Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'
'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'
You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.
That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'
'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'
You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.
The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'
That's when they started hacking at your wings.
Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.
Not your whole life.
Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.
Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.
'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'
They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.
Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.
The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.
At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.
'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'
Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.
'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'
Azriel.
You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.
You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.
'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'
You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.
You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.
'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.
You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.
'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.
Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.
No, this would destroy you.
'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'
Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'
Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'
You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.
And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.
Mate.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.
Your wings.
Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.
Gone, all gone.
Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.
'You're awake, thank the couldron.'
It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.
How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.
But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.
'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.
He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'
In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.
'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.
'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.
'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.
'Get out,' you mumbled.
The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'
'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.
Be better than your mate being disgusted.
'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.
'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.
'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'
Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.
Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.
You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.
'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.
'Give her time,' said Rhys.
The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.
'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.
Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.
And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.
There was a knock, rattling the door.
'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'
Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.
He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.
'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.
Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.
Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.
You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.
It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.
Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.
Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.
Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.
It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.
You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.
Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.
And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.
You cry. You sob. You scream.
The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.
A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.
You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.
Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.
Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.
He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.
When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.
It was always you.
Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.
His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.
Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.
He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.
He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.
You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.
Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.
'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.
'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.
'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.
Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’
'I'm not on the ledge.'
'You're too close for my liking.'
'Leave if you don't like it.'
'Don't do this,' he said.
'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.
'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.
‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’
He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.
'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'
Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.
His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.
You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Fifty-two years later...
When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.
You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.
It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.
Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.
Still, you had not told him he was your mate.
Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.
Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.
But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.
Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.
Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.
'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.
Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.
'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'
The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.
'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.
But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.
If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.
Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.
Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'
He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.
He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.
You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.
When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.
Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.
Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.
'Cassian.'
His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'
He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'
Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.
Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.
'Ow!'
'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.
You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...
Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.
Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.
And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.
He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.
His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.
You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.
Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.
Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.
Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.
'Azriel?' you called.
There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.
You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'
He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'
You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.
His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'
You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'
You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?
'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'
'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'
His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'
You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'
He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'
Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.
Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'
'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.
Azriel smiled and stayed the night.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The third time he almost lost you, broke him...
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
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eospaint · 6 months
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"There is no such thing as a High Lady."
"There is now."
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achaotichuman · 6 hours
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Stupid little headcanon.
Yk imagine if Rhys's mom was actually a massive Tamsand shipper who just ADORED Tamlin, and because he could shapeshift would use him as a model for all her dresses. Would watch her son and Tamlin interact and also saw that Tamlin made big, wide eyes at the ring her mother had given her to pass onto her children, and knew he would like it as an engagement ring, and also knew he would be able to absolutely SLAUGHTER the weaver.
In conclusion, Rhys' mother made those dresses for Tamlin, and hid the ring for Tamlin.
And the reason Feyre fit the dresses so perfectly was because Rhys' mother actually made SO MANY DIFFERENT DRESSES because Tam could shapeshift any body type, and Rhys just picked out the ones in Feyre's size.
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sydneymack · 3 months
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A Court of Thorns and Roses Main Characters
Artist: @chelzd_art
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