Thehighlordofspring - The Ever-fixed Mark Shall Not Be Shaken

THE SHOULDER TOUCH. ( A PROMPT LIST! )

i said i'd make them! i hope you enjoy these, and as always: DO NOT ADD, EDIT OR CLAIM THIS LIST AS YOUR OWN!

[ WAKEN ]: the sender touches the receiver's shoulder to waken them from a nap or sleep.

[ STILL ]: the sender places their hands on the visibly angry/upset receiver to try and restrain them.

[ STAY ]: the sender, noticing the receiver attempting to escape a meeting or a conversation, quietly rests a hand on their shoulder and pulls them back into their seat.

[ REST ]: the sender places a gentle but firm hand on a weakened/sick/injured receiver's shoulder to push them back into their bed to rest more.

[ PUNCH ]: the sender places a hand on the receiver to draw their attention away from another focus, and once they've turned around, the sender swings a punch at them in the moment of confusion.

[ PRIDE ]: the sender, having heard or seen the receiver successfully achieve a remarkable feat, places a hand on their shoulder to express their wordless pride in them.

[ HUG ]: the sender places their hands on the receiver's shoulders to yank them into a hug.

[ COMFORT ]: the sender, noticing a visibly upset receiver, solemnly moves to their side, and places a hand on their shoulder in an effort to comfort them.

[ SURPRISE ]: the sender, noticing an otherwise occupied receiver, moves forward silently and suddenly grabs their shoulder to startle them.

[ STUN ]: the sender, having been apart from the receiver for some time, makes an unexpected return and greets the unaware receiver with a hand on their shoulder.

[ TIDY ]: the sender reaches forward and lightly sweeps something from the receiver's shoulder.

[ WORRY ]: the sender grabs the receiver by the shoulders to take a good look at them for any sign of harm or injury.

[ ARM ]: the sender rests a hand on the receiver's shoulder, their arm draped around them in order to do so.

[ FOCUS ]: the sender, noticing the receiver has become distracted during a conversation, places a hand on their shoulder to redirect and focus their attention.

[ GOTCHA ]: the sender, noticing the receiver has unknowingly walked into the path of a source of danger, grabs them by the shoulder and hoists them back to safety.

[ PRAISE ]: the sender, having heard that the receiver has achieved great success in a task or accomplishment, gives them a proud pat and squeeze of the shoulder to convey their congratulations.

[ STEADY ]: the sender rests a hand on the shaken and panicked receiver's shoulder to steady and ground them.

[ CAUGHT ]: the sender plants a hand on the receiver's shoulder to stop them from fleeing a potential arrest or accusation.

[ DELIVER ]: the sender, about to deliver some bad news to the receiver, gently places a hand on the receiver's shoulder to stop them from running away from the bad news.

[ SHIELD ]: the sender catches hold of the receiver's shoulder and draws them back and away from a threat, pulling them behind them for their safety.

[ SOOTHE ]: the sender places their hands on the receiver's shoulders and begins to give them a massage.

[ LEVER ]: the sender, wanting to sit next to the receiver, places a hand on their shoulder to ease themselves to the space beside them.

[ HERE ]: the sender taps the receiver's shoulder to alert them to their presence.

fireflies lighting up a rural Pennsylvania field at dusk

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 [ 🎼 ] + 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (𝟑-𝟓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒) 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂.

💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is goodbye.

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

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

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

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

He pulled back slowly, painfully.

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

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

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

For her good. He told himself.

He didn’t mean to do it.

He shouldn’t have.

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

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

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

Send ✉️ for a letter from my muse.

Send 📬 to start a letter exchange thread.