#Lucien Crown imagines

[multific]

Lucien Crown as Your Sugar Daddy - Headcanons

Lucien Crown x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Sugar Daddy, illness

You called him Lucien or Daddy

No matter what others said or called him as

To you he was Daddy or Lucien

Or any cute nickname you could come up with

As long as it wasn’t Milo

After Michael’s many promises of a cure, Lucien had enough

And so, without even looking, during a meeting with a politician, he became aware of sugar babies

The topic intrigued him enough to start looking

He figured he might as well have some fun before he dies

He interviewed in total 16 girls

None piqued his interest

You arrived a bit late, the 17th girl

And you were perfect

While he could tell the others pitied him for his illness

You did not

You treated him equally throughout the interview 

You even joked around

And he liked that

You had a few set of rules as you explained that he would be your first.. Sugar Daddy

Your rules were very basic and he agreed to them all

He whipped up a contract that day and you both signed it

You were the perfect distraction

While you did take his illness seriously, you didn’t shy away from joking

For example, whenever you two were walking somewhere, you would call him grandpa

“Come on Grandpa! You are so slow! I shouldn’t have to call you Daddy when in reality you are Grand-Daddy!!!”

You made him laugh

Every time, all day

And soon, you moved to his place

He wanted you around all the time

And you were happy to be there

You were surprised when he said he doesn’t require you to have sex with him

You thought that was a huge part of Sugar Daddies

But you also understood that he was different

He wanted someone around him, someone to take his mind off of his pain

And you tried your best to do just that

He set up an account for you, gave you a card and explained he will put enough money on it for you and you could spend the money as you please

But he was surprised to see, you didn’t buy anything

In fact, you only bought things for him

You got him a nice new tie that you saw

You got ingredients because you wanted to bake cupcakes

You got him a birthday present

If he didn’t know any better, he would say you were in love with him

And he would be correct

But he didn’t know

He brought you on many dates

Dates to the best restaurants

Dates to the nicest places

Dates to stores where he would buy you dresses he likes to see you in

During one date however, a couple of drunk guys started to laugh at him, making fun of him

And you didn’t like that

He said he was used to it

But you weren’t

“Hey! Fuckfaces! Go and make fun one yourselves instead, you pathetic bunch! I will let you know he has the biggest cock and he surely knows how to use it! You disgusting cockroaches!”

The men ran as two cops arrived because of your yelling

Lucien was thankful for what you did

On your ride back home, you worriedly turned to him

“I shouldn’t have said that earlier. I embarrassed you, I apologize.”

“Quite the opposite actually, you made me very proud. Thank you for standing up for me.” he said

And he kissed you, it was the first kiss you two shared

A simple kiss

But it meant so much to the both of you

It was the day he noticed he had feelings for you

He would often sit in his office, looking at the contract

As if to remind himself why were you there

You wouldn’t be there if you didn’t have the contract

And he was sure you would leave as soon as it would end

But if that’s the truth

If you really were there only for his money

Then why didn’t spend it?

He checked time and time again, waiting for anything

A huge purchase or a transfer

He thought you would transfer the money to your own account

But nothing like that happened

It confused him

So much so that one morning, during breakfast, he asked you

He asked you why would you stay and don’t spend the money

“Because I genuinely like you, Lucien. If anything, I should say I am in love with you. But I know you don’t feel the same and that’s okay.”

But he did

And he told you he did

Both of you just sat there, confused and shocked

But after the shock, you both started dating

With the contract officially burnt

You two had sex that night for the first time, you were nervous but you knew you had to help him a lot, and you were okay with that

Turns out, when you yelled at those men, you were actually pretty accurate

He did have a very nice cock

And while his illness didn’t allow him to be on top

You absolutely enjoyed riding him

All. Night. Long.

Sometimes he had to tell you to slow down because he was tired

But it also didn’t take him long to regain his strength and keep going

He also had a wonderful mouth which you didn’t know he could use so skillfully, but he surely did

He definitely had a thing for you being the dominant one

But you did let him tell you what he wanted you to do

You let him lead you

You were happy

You were in love and happy

But you still didn’t stop calling him Daddy from time to time

A/N: I have more ideas for him, let me know if anyone would be interested and I’ll write those.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

#Lucien Crown #Lucien Crown x reader #Lucien Crown x you #Lucien Crown imagine #Lucien Crown imagines #milo crown #milo crown x reader #milo crown x you #milo crown imagine #milo crown imagines #morbius x reader #morbius imagine #morbius imagines #milo morbius #milo morbius x reader #milo morbius imagine #milo morbius imagines #matt smith character

[fictionalcomforts]

Anyone has any Milo/Lucien fic recommendations then please tag me in those. I am withering without any content 😞😫😭

#morbius x reader #matt smith x reader #matt smith imagine #milo crown x reader #milo morbius #milo imagine #milo x reader #lucien crown

[ray-elgatodormido]

Day 5 of Pirate stuff before I want to do Pirate stuff

Silly little Au with the silly little fish and the silly stuff

*proceeds to adapt the entirety of the Elder Scrolls universe into a Pirate n Mermaid environment feat. Ancient Romans living underwater in Altantis (The Imperial City but more Ancient Roman and Aquatic aesthetics)*

#Never too early for some swashbuckling adventures with fish #Yes that would make Martin the crown prince of Atlantis here #I imagined the Dark Brotherhood being a Pirate fleet who get paid to hunt treasure as well as murder #oblivion #elderscrolls #tall dark and stabby #myart #shitpost #lucien lachance #hero of kvatch #oc #oc: baadahil faris #oc x canon #leave us! creature of light! >:(

[soulofstarsandink]

FORESHADOWING IN ACOTAR YOU MAY HAVE MISSED

*Spoilers*

1. Feyre painted the night sky on her drawer in the cottage.

2. Feyre had heard of Rhysand long before she met him. She recalled hearing of “One High Fae that could turn your bones to dust from a hundred yards away.”

3. One of the first things Lucien says to Feyre is that her eyes “are like stars.”

4. When first arrived at the Spring Court, Feyre unknowingly dresses herself in Night Court colours. (A dark blue tunic, another tunic “one of purple so deep it could have been black.”)

5. When Lucien and Feyre encounter the Bogge, Feyre distracts herself by thinking of “a starry, unclouded night sky, peaceful and glittering and endless.”

6. Rhysand appears as a “shadow I could never quite glimpse” in Feyre’s nightmares before they met. “Behind me - a shadow lurked - no, watched. I didn’t dare turn to look at it, to see who might be within the shadows, observing.”

7. Amarantha appeared in Feyre’s nightmares before she knew of her, as a “A pale, faceless woman dragging her bloodred nails across my throat” - a nightmare of Rhysands perhaps?

8. When the Suriel told Feyre to “Stay with the High Lord”, it didn’t specify which High Lord.

9. When Tamlin takes Feyre to see the pool of starlight, she describes the setting filling her with “both longing and mirth…it just seemed…right.”

10. Despite only having heard and not seen the Attor, Feyre manages to paint its exact image “a tall, skeletally thin gray creature with bat ears and giant, membranous wings.” How would she have been able to do this? Possibly an image from someone else’s mind?

11. During Calanmai, Feyre disregards Tamlin’s order to stay in her room as “there was a string - a string tied to my gut that pulled me towards those hills, commanding me to go, to hear the faerie drums…” “but a wild wicked voice weaving in between the drumbeats whispered otherwise. Go, that voice said, tugging at me. Go see.”

12. The first thing Rhysand ever says to Feyre is “There you are, I’ve been looking for you” before telling the three lesser faeries, “Thank you for finding her for me.”

13. During Feysand’s first encounter, Feyre thinks to herself Rhysand’s words “were tinged with an arrogance that only an immortal could achieve” to which he “laughed under his breath” having heard the insult.

14. When Feyre first drinks faerie wine, she describes it as “like a million fireworks exploring inside of me, filling my veins with starlight.”

15. Still intoxicated she states she wants to swim in the night sky, “to bathe in its colours and feel the stars twinkling between my fingers.”

16. Tamlin and Feyre had their first kiss during the shortest night of the year.

17. Rhysand states “only my prisoners and my enemies call me (Rhysand).” It’s then interesting that Feyre refers to him as ‘Rhys’ in her POV in moments when she can see beneath his villain mask. (And EXTRA interesting when she refers to him as such during their first kiss.)

18. When Rhysand senses Tamlin and Lucien have hidden Feyre “a flicker of excitement - perhaps disbelief - flashed across his features.”

19. Rhysand was the only person Under the Mountain that bet on Feyre slaying the worm.

20. Feyre’s bargain tattoo is similar to the Illyrian tattoos that are given for luck and glory.

21. When Rhysand dressed Feyre under the mountain he crowned her with a “small golden diadem imbedded with lapis lazuli” - a stone that inspires confidence and is worn by royalty.

22. When Rhysand informs Amarantha of his bargain with Feyre, it’s also an act of defiance as he mentions the bargain is “for the rest of her life”, hinting he believes she will survive the remaining tasks.

23. Before the second trial, Rhysand dresses Feyre in a ‘blood orange’ gown - a colour symbolising good fortune.

24. During their first mind convo, Rhysand says “Good girl.” (Not a fact, just hot tbh.)

25. When Rhysand sends the music to her cell, she unknowingly imagines Velaris and “a palace in the sky of alabaster and moonstone, where all that was lovely dwelled in peace…everything I wanted was there - the one I loved was there-“

｡･:*˚:✧｡

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #feyre archeron #feyreandrhysand #rhysand and feyre #feysand #sjm spoilers

[sapchat]

Ways to add simple little details to Prythian in your stories!

For the Autumn Court this one is basic and many people use it: Males gift their fiancées, wives, mates fox kits as a symbol of their love and good luck with the relationship. To make it sadder, Beron never did this for Lady A, so when Eris found out about this tradition he got his mom one!

For the Dawn Court: Like how the night court Illyrians put the women down, what if the Dawn Court was the opposite and the Peregryn females would put the males down. In the real world male birds are held to a high standard for breeding, I feel like Peregryn instincts would cause this and it just gives more to a story than the females constantly being the abused. Also they’re stomach/side sleepers. I talk more about this below with the night court just to not repeat myself.

Day Court is full of bastards. You can NOT convince me that it isn’t. Helion is laying the fucking pipe like he’s discovered oil. And the reason I feel this is because of @florencemtrash ‘s story “The Shadow and the Inkbird” (also it’s really good go read it if you haven’t) where the MFC is Helions bastard, and meets Lucien and instantly realizes that they’re halfsiblings. And I was like ya know the Day Court is probably like Game of Thrones Dorne. Dorne is know for their bastards almost every persons name in that city is ‘Sand’ because they’re all bastards basically. So I just KNOW that Helion probably has other kids than just Lucien. And everyone in that court is fucking.

Summer Court has mermaids. It’s basic, it’s simple and it’s true. There’s mermaids.

Night Court, listen we already now a lot about the Nigh Court but this pertains to Illyrian’s so I feel it’s different. They’re stomach/side sleepers. They are. You can’t tell me that two massive wing sticking out of your back would allow you to lay on your back. It can’t be comfortable. Like have you ever tried sleeping with like a ponytail/claw clip in? It ain’t nice. Now imagine it with two that sit right beside your shoulder blades and the clips are like 3ft long? Idk how long the base would be but like probably pretty fucking long to allow actual flight capabilities. Also when they sleep on their side they just have their wings straight out, now like laying on one and the other out. They’ve got big ass beds for a reason spread out. (Cassian fully takes up a bed like star fish style just on his stomach. Nesta is sick of it.)

Spring Court, during the Spring Equinox the High Lord chooses someone to dress up and hand out spring gifts to family’s (usually kids). When Tamlin became High Lord he appointed himself to do so. During this time Tamlin also gives many of the less fortunate families something they can later use for the Tithe.

Winter Court puts on a celebration for the children called Three Kings Day. Family’s with children are welcomed to the castle(? Do they have castles…?) and the bakers leave a cake outside the doors of the family, inside the cakes (this is a real thing from Puerto Rico/France/Spain too btw, the cake is called la galette des rois (Kings Cake)) are toys/coins. Whichever children find them get to wear a crown for the day and called Kings/Queens (Kallias started the tradition that all kids get to do this, he’s a softy).

#acotar #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of frost and starlight #acofas #a court of wings and ruin #acotar x you #acotar x oc #acotar x y/n #acotar x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #acotar tamlin #acotar feyre #tamlin acotar #acotar headcanons #helion x reader #kallias acotar #Helion acotar #Beron acotar #Tarquin acotar #thesan acotar #acotar writing #acotar fanart #acotar theory #acotar rhysand

[theladyofbloodshed]

Imagine if feyre gets a surprise fourth book depicting that she is actually with the wrong dude and was with the right dude the first time

Oh my goodness!!!

Frustation bubbles away because Feyre must stay at home with their son. She is his mother. She knows what he needs. Illyria is too dangerous to take him to. The Hewn City will not welcome him. Now that Keir has access to Velaris, even that isn't safe for Feyre and her son. So they stay in their home. And she absolutely despises it.

As soon as those thoughts come, they're brushed away. Feyre has every comfort. She's happy. She loves her mate and son. It's necessary.

One day, Rhys is injured. He loses consciousness. And in that moment, the grip on his magic recedes.

Feyre feels cold. Part of her is missing. The shadow that's been in her periphery for a few years has gone. A weight has been lifted.

Rhys is no longer in her head. But she loved having him there. Didn't she?

He was always there. Always there to listen. To help. To be there.

She builds her mental shields up because there's a doubt - a tiny doubt - that something isn't right. As Rhys recovers, she can feel him there, scratching at the walls that she built. She doesn't mention it. Doesn't mention that he isn't in her head anymore. But it feels different. Instead of knowing instinctively what to do, Feyre ponders over her choices. She pushes back on a few things then feels her mate's power pushing harder against her walls. It makes her push back, makes her fortify them.

She notices the changes in him. That he stiffens when she disagrees. That he doesn't like her to be alone with his friends anymore. And he especially doesn't like it when she speaks to Nesta. As for Lucien, Rhys will not let her even look at him. He's subtle. He finds reason to engage her or Lucien.

When she looks at her son, she panics. Feyre wasn't ready for this. She had an eternity for a child. Her life had ended once then it was almost taken from her again. The knowledge was kept from her. Her son would have killed her. Were it not for her sister she wouldn't have known... because her mate kept it from her. They all kept it from her.

She'd wanted to wait. Wanted to have a life without taking care of someone.

She glances around the room and wonders if her mate is in everybody's head. Is that why everything is perfect? Not a crack to be found. Except in her sister. The one mortal who a high lord's glamour didn't work on. The one who Rhys continually battles with.

Feyre stares at herself in the mirror, horrified by what she's become. Where did her fight go? She runs through the events of the last couple of years but they feel blurry like viewing them through a dream. A pregnancy unexpected and unwanted. Until suddenly she decided it was what she wanted. The same clothes she'd first worn to the Hewn City. Too tight, too ostentatious to wear whilst pregnant. Until suddenly she decided they were what she wanted. The crowns and dresses. Not her. Not her.

This was what she had run from. An irritational fear that Tamlin would force her into a crown, that he'd present her only at parties, that he'd keep her to produce little heirs.

But that had never been him. He had been the one to send her home. To write her poems. To encourage her to paint.

He had not wanted that life for himself, far less for her.

In that dungeon, broken and afraid, Feyre had let the monster into her head. What had he done to her?

[shadowqueenjude]

Many people have a headcanon that the stranger who appeared at the Archerons’ door asking Papa Archeron to invest was Lucien, so I decided to write the scene! This is the first coherent thing I’ve written in ages so don’t judge me too hard😭 Also I have no idea what currency is used in acotarland so I’m using pounds because it’s based on Britain.

Lucien had not even seen a human house yet and he already felt like an outsider. He was no stranger to the feeling; it was how he’d felt when he’d first shown up in Spring, covered in his brothers’ blood, steam curling off his body from the fire in his veins, his ember smell and red hair both clear signs that he didn’t belong. However, at least, while his magic had felt weaker outside of his home territory, it had still felt potent. Even with Amarantha’s stupid curse. But here… By the Cauldron, this place was so dreary. So ordinary. If this was where Feyre had grown up, no wonder she was such an ignorant mortal fool. Her human life was so mundane compared to his. Lucien couldn’t imagine living here his whole life like this. 

Tamlin had offered to send an entire entourage to protect him, but Lucien had insisted that just a horse would do. He needed to look wealthy, not like a prince. He wasn’t going to be slain by two girls and their absentee father. Andras had only been killed because he had willed it. Lucien shut down that thought, not wanting to think about the pain he’d felt when Andras had died. His closest friend in Spring, most likely. Tamlin was his friend too, but he was also his High Lord; the relationship was inherently unequal, unlike with Andras.

At last, Lucien exited the forest. The clearing was even more boring than the trees. The ground was a yellowish-green reminiscent of dying grass, and every step was a loud crunch under the horse’s hooves. Pahhh. No wonder Feyre was half-dead when she’d first arrived. Then Lucien felt guilty for thinking that way. It wasn’t her fault the humans were left like this. Prythian before Amarantha had ample resources to help out the humans, but they hadn’t. They’d freed them from slavery to the Fae, only to make them slaves to their basest instincts. 

They were even worse off than the lesser faeries. Lucien’s eyes stung as he remembered Jesminda’s dream of an equal Prythian, the dream Tamlin was working hard towards. She would’ve loved Tamlin and the Spring Court. 

Calm down Lucien, he chastised himself as he urged the horse onward. Holy shit, Tamlin hadn’t exaggerated; these homes and buildings were tiny. He moved through bustling streets with little humans pushing carts full of wares of some kind. Several stopped what they were doing to stare at him. Excellent; he set himself apart plenty simply being astride this mare. 

As Tamlin had said, the Archeron home wasn’t hard to find. Mostly because of the lingering faerie scents that he followed all the way to their house. He didn’t remember human etiquette as it had been ages since he’d met one, but it couldn’t be that different from Faerie etiquette, right? Right?? Cauldron boil him, he should’ve done more research, but he didn’t think it would be that big a deal. Tamlin’s glamour magic that he’d cast as he kidnapped Feyre should hold, plus Lucien’s own glamour magic. 

He didn’t have anything to tie his horse to, so he gently descended the horse and led her near the side of the house, praying that she wouldn’t run. Then he knocked on the door, internally cussing at this infernal hat he was wearing. Some gentlemanly human fashion that he despised.

The door opened a minute later. Lucien looked down at a small woman who looked a lot like Feyre- only, her features were sharper, stronger. Her dirty blonde hair was up in a braided crown, her angled brows were arched as her silvery-blue eyes assessed him with a courtier’s precision. Lucien instantly recognized this one as Nesta- the older sister. Cold, cunning, and more beautiful than Lucien had expected. He gave her a practiced courtier’s smile as he bowed to her. “Hello, Lady. I was wondering if your father was home?” Nesta stared at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “What could you possibly want with him?” Another feminine voice in the background gasped, but Lucien maintained his smile, only replying, “He is a merchant, is he not, Lady? I have a proposition for him.”

“Our father hasn’t been a merchant in many years,” Nesta said coldly. Oh, she was a viper, alright. She’d fit right in at the Autumn Court. Unfortunately for her, Lucien had far too much experience with people worse than her. “Perhaps what I suggest will convince him to get back into it.”

Nesta looked him up and down again. Somehow, Lucien got the feeling that she could see through the glamour. Impressive. Lucien’s smile morphed into a smirk as Nesta continued to stare her displeasure. “See something you like, my lady?” Nesta’s eyes instantly snapped back to his. “How dare- oh just come in; let’s get this over with quickly.” 

Lucien bowed again, and unable to help himself, he sent a wink and grin Nesta’s way before he turned towards the man sitting on the chair. Lucien repressed his wince of sympathy at the ruined leg. That must have hurt a lot when he got it. He didn’t know the story, but it made Lucien’s face twinge in memory of his own eye getting carved out. “Does that hurt?” Lucien asked the man, nodding at the leg. The man blinked, as though surprised to be addressed. “Often,” he admitted. “Particularly when I try to stand up.” Unable to help himself, Lucien blurted, “I could give you supplies to help you with that, you know, Lord.”

The man cringed. “Please just call me Tristan. And I couldn’t possibly accept-“

“Please, Tristan. I insist. It’s just in my satchel here. Give me one moment.” He bowed to him and turned around, the scent of jasmine wafting into his nose. That’s when he saw her.

The younger sister: Elain. She had the same burnished gold hair of her sisters, but her eyes were wholly different; she had lovely doe eyes that you could drown in. She had a slight blush on her face, and she had an inviting smile on her face as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Won’t you tell us your name, my lord?” Lucien had fully intended on giving them an alias, but he fumbled on his words, instead saying, “I-my name is Lucien.”

“Lucien.” His name on her tongue-

“Pretty name for a pretty lord,” Elain teased, and Lucien felt his face heat up. His shirt sleeve sparked with fire, and Lucien hastily patted it down. Why was he so nervous? Elain wasn’t the first beautiful woman he had ever seen. “Why, um, thank you, Lady Elain.”

“How do you know her name?” Nesta cut in, and Lucien sighed. She was even worse than Feyre. He turned to her, letting that practiced smile return. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t know about the family of the man who I’m trusting with my money, did you?” Lucien tried not to laugh at the expression on Nesta’s face as he sauntered out of the cabin to get the faerie pain killer and tonic. He made a mental note to get new ones once he went back home. This man needed it more than him, and he could just get more when he went home.

 Thankfully, his horse was obediently standing near the side of the house, and Lucien rustled through his satchel, getting the two bottles he always kept on him. Then he strolled back towards the front door, knocking politely again. This time, the door was opened by Elain, who gave him that adorable smile again. “Lord Lucien.” Lucien gave her a real grin, replying, “Lady Elain.” “Please don’t worry about my sister. She can be a little…overprotective, but she means well, I promise.” Lucien lifted a hand to place on Elain’s shoulder assuredly before he remembered that humans were really weird about physical contact. 

“Rest assured, I understand your sister’s misgivings. I’m a strange man entering your home, and I know of the struggles ladies must go through in this world. I do not resent her for her attitude.” Elain beamed. “Does that mean you’ll visit us again?” While Lucien had been careful to avoid physical contact, it seemed Elain had no such qualms; she grabbed his forearm with her small, surprisingly strong hands. Lucien stiffened slightly in surprise. He was going to say no when he caught a glimpse of her expression and scented her mood. Her excitement was so contagious. “You seem a worldly man. Have you traveled much?” Lucien blinked. “Yes, I have.” He opened his mouth to say more, but his mind was blank. Cauldron boil him-

“Excellent! Then it’s settled then; you’re coming back so you can tell me all about your travels,” Elain said firmly. Lucien blushed again. Think of something intelligent to say! “As you say, my lady,” Lucien finally managed. Then the two of them walked back to her father, Elain’s hand still on his arm. Lucien felt Nesta’s glaring at it, but he didn’t care; he was glowing at her hand on him, and he was too giddy to wonder why. “Here it is, Tristan. When you feel pain, take two sips of this red liquid and your pain shall go away. Rub this purple liquid into your leg every day to help relieve the bones in that area. I shall leave them on this table.” Lucien placed them on the wooden table where he noticed Tamlin’s claw marks punched into the table. By the Cauldron, Tam. You went all the way with the theatrics, didn’t you?

“Now, for my request: I know of your reputation, so I am asking you to invest some of my money for me.”

Tristan inquired, “And how much do you wish me to invest, Lord Lucien?” “Twenty thousand pounds.” Elain gasped and Nesta moved to cover her younger sister’s mouth. Tristan stared at him in disbelief. “Twenty thousand? Really?” 

“Of course. Will that be a problem?”

“Well…it’s just so much money…”

Lucien resisted the urge to snarl at him. His patience was waning. “No, it’s nothing to me. Just a small sum to see what you can do. I’ll think of investing more if I am interested.” Tristan stared at him some more. “That sounds like a wonderful idea!” Elain exclaimed, walking forward as her sister tried to shush her again. “My father would be delighted to accept your investment, my lord.” Lucien sighed slightly in relief as Elain met his eyes. “Thank you,” he mouthed at her. She merely winked at him, and Lucien blushed again. Something was wrong with him; must be the human weather. 

“Erm, yes, of course I would,” Tristan said with slight confusion. “Father-“ Nesta began, but Lucien spoke over her. “Splendid! I could not be more grateful.” Lucien reached his hand into midair, searching for that small bag of gold Tamlin had given him and stored in the ether. At last, he found it, handing it to Tristan. “Here’s another token of my gratitude.” Tristan blinked, as if he could not possibly believe his luck, and Lucien handed him another back, this one with the twenty thousand pounds. “It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Lord Tristan, and meeting your wonderful daughters.” He bowed to each of them in turn before exiting the room. 

“Wait!” Elain cried, just as Lucien mounted his horse. Lucien turned to Feyre’s sister. He tried not to get distracted by her big brown eyes as she said breathlessly, “You will come back, won’t you, my lord?” He hadn’t planned on it, no. But he couldn’t bring himself to say that to her. “I swear it, my lady Elain.” She grinned then, her fully smile so brilliant it took Lucien’s breath away. “Until then, my Lord Lucien.” 

That expression remained imprinted on Lucien’s mind all the way back to the Spring Court.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #elucien #nesta archeron #papa archeron #elain archeron

[currently-evil]

Headcanon that When dreams and nightmares need to be remade, they initially come back as infants. They need time to learn their new bodies, new powers which usually means that for some time they are just literal defenseless children. It takes them some time to fully develop their new shape. Most of the time it takes them a few hours, some more carrefour take a few days, a week or two max. 

And Dream as their Lord, Father in a way, takes upon him the responsibility of taking care of them in this delicate time. He makes sure they grow into their new responsibilities and abilities, makes sure they are comfortable in their new bodies.

I believe after his first remaking, after the news that it is possible and that is something Lord of the Dreams will do for his creations, lots of Dreams and Nightmares went to him asking for a change. Enough that poor Lucien had to make a list, a queue. 

I like to believe that this event somehow overlapped with his reunion with Hob and subsequently when he promised to visit Hob more often, as they are now friends.

Lord of the Dreams would never go back on his promise nor would he neglect his duties to his people. 

That’s why eventually he started showing up on meetings with Hob with infants in his arms. (Just one at the time. Dream wouldn't start the process of the remake of another Dream until the previous was fully formed and fully content with their new form.)

Imagine Hob surprised when his elusive friend just casually plops down next to him in Tavern with…. with a kid! Of course getting answers from Morpheus is like pulling teeth, but he eventually asks if he is a father of the kid and Dream blink at him and looks down at the infant.

“I am his creator, yes.” Weird way to put it but ok, It's his Stranger after all. Hob knows he has to be satisfied with just that.

But then two weeks after that Dream shows up with…. Different kid??? What???

He indulges Hob in some questions. Is it also his kid? Yes in the same way the previous was.

Where is the first kiddo? He doesn't need Dream to this extent anymore. 

Like????? What does that mean??? That kid was just an infant??? He wouldn't just casually grow up and move away in two weeks!! (Little does Hob know that he would actually.)

I’d like to think when Dream shows up with yet another, entirely different child, Hob is on the verge of nervous breakdown. Like what happened to the rest of the kids??? Where are they??? Is Dream trafficking them?? Is Dream really the father of all of them?? What is happening? Dream is his friend but if he is doing anything shabby to kids Hob will have to intervene. And of course Dream didn't explain to him yet his nature.

Sooner or later Dream is forced to explain some things to his friends. He is reluctant to give up his true nature, but he gave him bits and pieces. The kids aren't human in the same way Dream isn't human. Yes, they're really ok and yes, they really don't need Dream anymore. He even calls upon one of the Nightmares to show up and Hob almost had a heart attack when he recognised infant Dream initially brought to their meetings in the young man that was standing right in front of him.

And well Hob is forced to accept this weird occurrence.

When the worries are gone from his mind and he can watch Dream with the kids freely he has to admit he is a good dad. He talks with Hob at the same time, softly bouncing the kid on his knee, almost without thinking, like this motion is natural to him. He talks with his kids as he would with adults, asking them questions and nodding sagely when they answer in baby gurgles. It's so adorable. Few times he is witness to Morpheus cradling fussing infant in his arms and lulling them to sleep. He watches transfixed as his friend sways from side to side whispering in his deep voice  softly “Rest now Little Dream” pressing kiss to the crown of the kid's head and feel emotional, hormonal. He feels baby fever like never before. His mind spun fantasies about Dream lulling to sleep Their child, in Hob’s home, in the dim light of Hob’s bedroom. 

These are definitely not friendly thoughts. 

And oh, Hob is in love with his Stranger. 

Bonus Corinthian under:

I’d like to think that because Corinthian was Dream’s masterpiece when Dream finished remaking him, he was one of the few who needed a longer time to get ready and so Dream took him to a few of his “dates” with Hob as opposed to all other dreams who usually saw Hob just once. 

And Hob could see that this one, this little trouble maker was definitely Dream’s favorite. The kid would sit in Morpheus' lap, but any time he thought his Father wasn't looking he would stretch his little body trying to catch the knife from the cutlery set in front of the Dream. And Hob could see how Dream was pretending not to see, how he was still indulging Hob in conversation but any time a kid in his lap was becoming brave his lips would softly curve up. 

Hob himself had to hide a smile in his hand as little dream would try to catch the knife only for Dream to move it - just slightly out of reach, centimeters before the kid could catch it. How his little face would scrunch in irritation, how his little sunglasses would jump on his nose from the scrunch he made.

Hob even get to hold him, when one time Morpheus spotted Raven outside the window and not wanting to stop Corinthian from the coloring book he was deeply engrossed in, asked Hob if he could watch his, and upon getting agrement - softly plopping his little masterpiece in Hob’s lap.

Hob was babbling nonsense to a kid who is much more interested in crossing out all people's eyes with red crayon. He is so into it that he leans over the table so much his little sunglasses fall off his nose.

And upon first seeing his face fully Hob does that

And the just sit in silence freaking out.

#hob gadling #dreamling #the sandman netflix #the sandman #sandman netflix #hob x dream #morpheus #sandman 2022

[thelov3lybookworm]

Caged In (part 6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Day 6: Romance

Summary:

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: and with this, we come to the end of this series 🥹 thank you to all who loved this so much. I'm grateful ❣️

@lucienweekofficial

•○🌑○•

It felt like Lucien put his whole soul into kissing Y/n.

Y/n wasn't complaining.

She kissed him right back with everything she had in her as she buried her fingers in his long silky hair. It was softer that she had imagined.

Lucien's hand encircled her waist as he began walking her backwards, not once faltering in the movements of his mouth against hers.

Only when Y/n felt the edge of her bed pressing into her calves did she pull back, her chest heaving. Lucien tried to follow her, nipping at her lips, but then seemed to decide that breathing was also a necessity.

The both of them stared at each other as they tried to catch their breath.

"Why were you so scared about me being with Azriel?"

"Because... because I was afraid that he'd take away the one person I love. It's not like it hasn't happened before, even if he had no intention of doing it. My mate, the person who was destined to be with me, is in love with him. You can't fault me for being scared that he'd steal you away too. And I wouldn't let that happen. Because I love you."

"What?" She questioned. Lucien gave her a puzzling look.

"What... what?"

A giggle burst free from Y/n's mouth. "What did you just say?"

"I– I love you." Then his face fell, and he took a step away. "I'm sorry. I didn't ask you if you felt the same way–"

Y/n stared at him for a moment before she threw herself at him, laughing wildly.

"Oh mother. Lucien, I feel like I've been waiting my whole life to hear those words from you! I love you too, you dumbass."

"Then thank the cauldron." He muttered, the corners of his lips lifting before he slammed them against Y/n's again.

It would be safe to say that no one had any nightmares for the rest of the night.

Because none of them got any sleep.

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

Lucien was buzzing with nerves, trying not to fiddle with the white robe he wore as he stood in front of his father, waiting for his judgement. They were in a private family wing, a sprawling stairway behind Lucien leading up to the chambers. Where Y/n currently was.

It was the day of the coronation, six months after he had found out about his parentage.

In those six months, Lucien and his father had bonded, so much so that it was easy to forget they had only found out about being related a few months ago.

In those six months, Beron had been assassinated, all disputes settled, peace once again a thing between the human and faerie lands.

Beron's death meant that Lucien's mother and father could meet again after centuries of longing, and Lucien was glad that the both of them were happy.

But that also meant that his father wanted to spend maximum amount of time with his love, and he was stepping down from the throne.

When Lucien had questioned the decision, Helion had replied that he was getting old and cranky, and he wanted to spend all the time he had with Lucien's mother. So they would be living in a private home in the mountains away from the bustle of the city.

The act of passing the crown to a heir was a hard and painful one unless the current high lord died, but Helion was ready to take it all.

So today, during the coronation, Helion would be performing a complex ritual that would leave him nearly powerless, transferring all the power to Lucien, the new high lord.

Helion gave Lucien a smile, pride taking over his features before he pulled Lucien in for a bone crushing hug.

"I'm so proud of you, my son."

Lucien's throat clogged with emotions as he clutched his father. Never in his life had anyone, except his mother and Y/n, said that they were proud of him. Maybe Jurian.

"Thank you."

Helion took a step back, his hands on Lucien's shoulders. "You'll be an amazing high lord."

Lucien nodded, not knowing how to reply.

He was spared the struggle when the door behind his father opened and in stepped the inner circle.

Rhys gave Helion a hug as Feyre came up to Lucien, grinning.

"High Lord, eh? I'm so happy for you." Feyre tried hugging Lucien, but Nyx had other plans. He made grabby hands at Lucien, who laughed and took him in his arms.

Everyone began congratulating Lucien and his father, even Nesta smiled at him. Cassian and Azriel gave him small smiles.

Looking at Cassian, Lucien wondered if he should fear for his life.

"Congratulations." A soft, feminine voice litled from nearby, and Lucien looked away from Nyx to find Elain standing there in a soft pink gown. Lucien hadn't even realised she was here.

Lucien nodded his thanks, going back to babbling at Nyx. "Would you like to ride a pegasus Nyx? I have my own. We can take a ride later on." Nyx squealed in happiness, although he probably didn't understand what Lucien had said.

A small, dainty hand landed on Lucien's bicep, and he looked to find Elain smiling at him.

"Can I have a word?" She nodded her head towards one of the wide windows, and Lucien looked around in confusion before he handed Nyx to Feyre, following Elain, away from everyone. Feyre gave him a mischievous smile and Rhys winked at him.

"How are you doing?"

Lucien furrowed his brows. "I'm doing good. What did you want to talk about?"

Lucien wanted to get straight to the point. He didn't have time for small talk. Y/n would be walking down those stairs any moment now, and he wanted to be the first one to see her.

"Oh. Okay. I... I know I haven't been paying you any attention, like a mate should. But I think I'm ready to pursue a relationship with you. I want to get to know you better."

Lucien blinked at her before he remembered that neither she nor the inner circle knew about his relationship with Y/n.

"I– I'm sorry Elain, but I can't accept to be in the mating bond. It's too late now."

"What do you mean?" Hurt flashed across her face, and it came in waves at Lucien from her side of the bond.

"I've found my high lady already."

"Do you think I want this bond only because I want to be a high lady?" She asked angrily, and Lucien realised how his words could have come across.

"I didn't mean it that way, and I apologise if I gave you the wrong idea. I meant that I have already found someone and I love her very much."

Tears gathered in Elain's eyes. "Why?"

"I'm sorry. I really am. But there will come nothing out of a realtion between you and I."

She nodded, blinking away the tears before turning away. "Congratulations again."

Before he could think of apologising again, he heard the sound of skirts swishing on the floor, and everyone turned to look towards the top of the stairs.

There was a collective sharp drawing of breaths.

There, in a gown of the brightest white with a golden tiara on her head, stood Y/n, beaming down at him. He realised his mother had already arrived before Y/n, standing next to Helion.

Lucien couldn't look away from her. She looked so beautiful. She was practically glowing as she descended the stairs. Her eyes snagged on someone behind Lucien for a moment before returning to him.

Cassian.

Lucien walked up to her, grinning softly, unable to look away as she reached the bottom stair.

"Hello, my Lord." She curtsied slightly.

"Lady Y/n, its a pleasure." He gently grasped her hand and raised it to his lips, maintaining eye contact. She blushed.

"Y/n." Cassian breathed.

Y/n's pretty eyes flew to her brother and she swallowed.

"Cass."

"What is this?" Rhys questioned.

Y/n's eyes went glassy, and Lucien realised that they were conversing through his daemati powers.

Cassian walked up to Y/n and simply pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry. I missed you so much."

"Cass, I'm sorry–"

"Hush. Its alright. We'll talk later." Then Cassian turned to Lucien. "We will talk." He glared, but in a way brothers would glare at their sister's partner.

Lucien smiled. "Sure."

Y/n grinned at Lucien. "You're in for an interrogation."

Lucien grinned back.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Y/n clutched Lucien's hand tightly, trying not to go into fight or flight mode. She'd trained for this with Lucien and his mother. She should be able to do this.

But she wasn't ready.

And her biggest fear was tripping over her gown and falling face first in front of all the guests. That would be the recipe to a disaster. A really embarrassing start of her rulership.

Jurian would also make fun of her, as he would obviously be on the other side of that door. He and Vassa were said to have arrived recently, not being able to leave sooner due to the queen and king duties.

Those fears, combined with the rain did little to ease her nerves.

It was said that if it rained on someone's coronation day, it was a good sign.

Y/n's brain wasn't ready to understand that.

"Calm down love. It'll be all right." Lucien murmured in her ear. It was just the two of them in the hallway outside the Great Hall, where the coronation would take place. They would walk in soon, then enjoy the festivities for some time before the coronation took place.

"I'm calm." She mumbled.

She could practically feel his smirk. "Your grip on my hand says otherwise."

She immediatley let go. "Sorry."

He took her hand again. "It's alright." He studied her for a moment, then turned towards a nearby staircase. "Come. There is still time."

Y/n instantly became alarmed. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

He led her up the staircase and into a nearby balcony. It had beautifully potted plants and vines hanging all around, the rain giving it all a dreamy look.

"Why are we here?"

Lucien smirked at her. Before she could react, he pulled her onto the balcony, directly where the water was falling the most. Y/n squealed and tried to get back to the dry area, but Lucien's grip didn't falter.

"Come on my lady. This will be fun."

Lucien himself was already dripping with water, and he gave her a wild grin before pulling her in for a kiss. She let him, because who could say no to him? There was certainly something wrong with people who could deny Lucien of anything.

He deepened the kiss before moving onto her jaw and neck, peppering kisses on every bit of skin he could kiss. Y/n closed her eyes, feeling Lucien's lips and the drops splattering on her face.

"Lucien..." She said, breathless.

He relented, resting his forehead against hers.

Sometime later, without even realising it, the two of them had begun swaying to sound no one could hear, their movements perfectly synchronised.

As they danced in the rain, she realised she was no longer nervous. She had relaxed, the tensions bleeding from her shoulders.

"I love you." She sighed.

"I love you too." Lucien kissed her forehead.

•○🌑○•

Talons scraped against Y/n's mind, and she opened a window to Rhys, irritated at being interrupted.

What? She spat.

The coronation is about to start in a few moments. You need to make haste. He sounded so amused, Y/n wondered if she could punch him through his mind.

She looked up at Lucien, knowing he had also recieved the same message.

Lucien led her back to the stairs, drying his and her clothes with his magic.

"Ready?"

Y/n nodded. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." He winked at her.

She grinned and shook her head.

She wanted to grab him and drag him to an alcove and never stop kissing his stupidly handsome face, but she couldn't do that.

A coronation awaited.

But more than that, Jurian and Vassa would never let her live that down.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @lizziesfirstwife

#acotar #Lucien x reader #Acotar fanfic #mating bond #a court of thorns and roses #Lucien fluff #acotar fandom #acotar series #fluff #Lucien fic #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #Acotar writing #acotar fluff #acotar x reader #reader insert #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #pro lucien vanserra #lucien #Cassian sister #Lucienweek2023 #Lucien week #Lucien fanfic

[acourtofthought]

I don't think Elain will become a warrior but I do think Lucien will take it upon himself to teach her self defense, especially after what happened with Jesminda and how he still has a target on his back when it comes to his brothers and Beron, how he's not allowed to enter Autumn.

And I love the thought that just as Feyre could not imagine wearing a crown and disliked dresses in Spring but embraced both in the Night Court, we'll see something similar with Elain....

.... where she'll only keep a dagger gifted to her by her mate.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien and elain #elain and lucien #elucien supremacy

[moondrops-and-ink]

Had a Critical Role dream last night that there was a DND theme park with rides and they had a Mighty Nein ride.

There are 9 cars, and each car is a character. And it went through the story if the Nein, the cars could disconnect and spin individually, and if you were in the Molly car yours would disconnect and go on a separate track away from everyone else. You can always see them below you, but the Molly track goes through Lucien's revival and the horrors of his mind before you rejoin for the Cognouza portion and finally the big end.

The other cars stay together and go through the seas and mountains and your cars have lasers you shoot at enemies for points and then when it gets to the Cognouza section the Molly car comes back and all of you have to shoot lasers at Lucien until he comically breaks in half and then the Molly car gets a glowing crown for Kingsley.

I woke up and haven't stopped thinking about it.

Disney won't ever have an imagineer like me like damn lol

#critical role #mighty nein #the mighty nein #m9 #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #fjord stone #jester lavorre #cr yasha #yasha nydoorin #beau lionette #beauregard lionett #mollymauk tealeaf #lucien tavelle #lucien the nonagon #kingsley tealeaf #caduceus clay #one time i dreamt

[separatist-apologist]

A Lost Princess of Sunlight

Summary: Lady Elain has spent her life in the idyllic countryside wanting for nothing, so when her adopted sister Vassa begs her to accompany her to court, how can Elain say no? The roguish prince is in need of a wife and Elain, certain she'd make a terrible princess, has no interest in such theatrics.

But something about the palace brings back memories lost to the sea ten years before. Memories Elain had been certain she'd never get back…memories that speak of a colder place, and sisters long forgotten. Amid the tumultuous politics and the looming war, Elain finds herself embroiled in a mystery to find out who she really is.

And where she really comes from.

Note: HAPPY HOLIDAYS @writtenonreceipts! I hope you like this- I tried so hard to give it TOG vibes AND to incorporate nessian and feysand because you said you love them (and I in turn love you).

@acotargiftexchange

Major thanks to @velidewrites and @wilde-knight for the moodboard + beta-ing this fic when I was laying face down in a puddle of my own tears.

Read On AO3 | Chapter 1

-

In recent memory, Lucien couldn’t remember ever feeling fouler than he did that day, standing in the throne room between his parents to greet a personalized list of women his mother hoped might one day be her future daughter-in-law. Lucien had tried in the beginning, offering a smile as he kissed gloveless hands. He’d filed away names for later, trying to paste them against genuinely lovely faces.

He’d expected to meet five women—maybe ten. But this had been going on for hours and he’d lost count of how many women he’d been shown. Fifty? With more that had arrived that his mother deemed otherwise unacceptable and therefore weren’t worth his time or attention. They’d be looking for him, too. Lucien felt like a piece of meat dangled before a wild animal gnashing its teeth hungrily. 

“Mother,” he said when the doors closed, catching his parents before they could beckon for another. “Surely this is too much. Please.”

“It’s good for you to meet your future court,” his father said, drumming long fingers against an ivory carved throne. Gold crowned both his fathers dark head of hair as well as the back of the chair, making it seem as if the King of the West radiated pure sunlight. His mother was a vision just beside, draped in a cream dress and a threaded crown of gold woven through her vivid auburn hair. 

“Isn’t that what all the activities are for? I feel…” he couldn’t say it, couldn’t force those spoiled words from his lips. “I need some air.”

He could see their frustration etched over their features. Was this truly the life laid before him? Would he one day be sitting in his fathers chair beside a woman his mother arranged for him, their son between them? The thought made Lucien want to gag. He hadn’t asked to be a prince, after all and right then, resentment burned hotly through him.

“Take a breath, son—”

“I won’t,” Lucien interrupted, fingers curling to fists. It wasn’t the first time he and his father had disagreed, though it was the first time that his mother would witness it. “This is too much.”

“This is duty, Lucien. Or did you imagine it was all dress up and sword fighting with your friends? We are on the precipice of war and every man has converged on our home to demonstrate their loyalty to our family. You repay them poorly by scowling and acting like a tantruming child,” his father cautioned, gold eyes narrowed in warning. 

“They’re delusional if they think I’ll marry one of their daughters and elevate them far above their stations!” Lucien snapped, stepping from the dais to the swirling gold and gray patterned floor. “There are simply too many women and not enough time—”

“You will choose one of them,” his father said again, harsher this time. 

“Let’s not fight,” his mother interjected quickly, also rising to her feet. Biting her bottom lip, those russet eyes were swimming with apprehension. “Surely there is a compromise to be found.”

“Amera,” Helion chided, his tone softer than before. 

“If you want to pick a wife, I won’t stop you. Any available woman in this city can be yours…so long as you choose one before the end of the summer.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will choose for you, based on your mothers recommendations,” his father snapped impatiently, crossing one powerful leg over the other. “There will be no more scheming or whoring, Lucien.”

“I know you were hurt when Lady Jes—”

“Don’t,” Lucien whispered, unable to hear his mother speak her name. “Please, mother. My heart can’t bear it.”

“There will be another, my sweet boy,” his mother murmured, reaching up to cup his face in her soft hands. Lucien pulled himself from her grasp, heart thudding in his chest. He hadn’t dared to ask if she was coming, too. He didn’t want to see proof that she could be happy with someone else. That she’d made the right choice in leaving and she’d been right—they didn’t belong together. “Any woman?”

His father pinched the bridge of his nose, recognizing Lucien’s intent but his mother was sincere. “So long as she is of southern birth, yes. Any woman.”

“Fine. I will bring you a daughter to dote on by the end of the summer if you free me from the obligation of choosing one specifically from your list.”

“You better take this seriously, Lucien,” his father warned, leaning forward to look at his only son. “Or it will be me who chooses.”

Lucien had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. His father would do whatever his mother told him to, and his mother would look out for Lucien’s happiness as best as she could. It wouldn’t be love, but it would be tolerable.

How delicious, he thought, to pick some commoner from the city. A woman who knew how to clean her own laundry, something Lucien had never been tasked to do. With the added bonus of keeping him out of the palace and the madhouse of his mothers machinations.

“I accept this arrangement. I won’t let you down,” he added to his mother, guilt pricking at his conscience. His father understood this was malicious compliance based on the hard set of his mouth but his mother’s eyes were shining with hope and Lucien so hated to disappoint her.

Perhaps his father was banking on his sons better nature because he waved him off. “Go get your air. I expect you at dinner tonight. Sober,” he added, guessing Lucien’s plans. 

Lucien exhaled a breath, slipping down a corridor and away from the madness that had befallen the palace. Jurian wasn’t hard to find, leaned against a pillar, arms crossed over his chest as he stared out toward the gardens.

“Washed hair?” Lucien began teasing his friend with a bump to the shoulder, “That must mean Lady Vassa has arrived.”

“She has,” he admitted, dark eyes nodding toward a mass of bouncy copper hair half hidden amongst the foliage. She was with a friend, back turned so Lucien only saw the long, thick tumble of loose golden brown curls and a lavender dress clinging to a slight frame. “Playing her favorite game, of course.”

“The one where she pretends you don’t exist? Has it occurred to you that perhaps she doesn’t like you?” Lucien asked, poking Jurian in his bare arm. “Maybe it’s time to move on.”

“That would show her, wouldn’t it?” Jurian muttered. 

“Here,” Lucien said, stepping from the veranda onto the stone laid path that wound through his mothers rather impressive garden. “I’ll say hello for us both. You can stand beside me silently brooding. I’m certain that will win her affection.”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?”

Lucien only grinned, swaggering as he made his way toward the pair of giggling women. There was no possibility either of them didn’t know Jurian was approaching, though Vassa was the first to look at Lucien. Beautiful as always, with her full mouth, her pert nose, and those big, cerulean eyes brimming with mischief. He liked her, if only because she was so unafraid and unimpressed by him. Lucien imagined if he asked Vassa what she thought of him, she’d tell him frankly and without an ounce of flattery.

Lucien opened his mouth to tell her she was looking lovely. “You look…” The words died on his lips as her friend turned at last, looking up at him with the biggest set of brown eyes he’d ever seen in his life. The tumble of her hair, the slope of her neck, the way her mouth was shaped…Lucien’s palms began to sweat.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. How had he never met her before? Who was she? 

“Stunning? Perfect? Like the woman of your dreams?” Vassa’s voice cut through the buzzing in Lucien’s ears. He couldn’t take his eyes off her friend long enough to even respond to Vassa. Instead, he found himself sweeping into a deep bow, all the while holding her gaze. 

Her cheeks flushed but when she tried to curtsey back, Lucien was quick to catch her hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles. She smelled like jasmine and honey. She looked like a daydream. Perhaps the heat had finally gotten to him and this was an angel coming to usher him into the afterlife. 

“This is my sister,” Vassa told Lucien, her amusement burning. Beside him, Jurian coughed pointedly, a mere blur to Lucien. “Elain.”

“Elain,” Lucien replied before Vassa’s words settled. “Since when do you have a sister?”

“Since always,” Vassa retorted, arms crossed over her verdant dress. “Sorry you’re so unobservant you never noticed.”

“I would remember you,” Lucien insisted, memorizing the shape of her face. “Where have you been hiding?”

Cheeks flaming, Elain’s eyes slid to her feet. “I ah…”

“She doesn’t come to court precisely for this reason, my lord,” Vassa interrupted, unaware Lucien was moments from throttling her. “Vultures, the lot of you. Men are so obsessed with finding wives they can’t allow a lady even a moment of peace in the garden.”

Jurian barked out a laugh, causing Elain to jump back just a little. “I prefer the quiet of the countryside,” she said, her voice somehow more beautiful than her face. Lucien wanted to bathe in it, wanted to close his eyes and listen to her speak. And it was becoming increasingly clear she did not want to be anywhere near him based on the way she looked as though she might bolt at any second. 

“I’m glad you made it,” he said, releasing her hand with great reluctance. “That both of you made it.”

“Oh, I’m certain you’re so delighted to see me,” Vassa chided playfully, thrusting out her own hand so Lucien could give her a similar kiss. He did, grinning like an idiot while watching her companion from the corner of his eye. Let her see he wasn’t a threat—that he was charming, and funny too when he wasn’t struck dumb. 

“If you knew the day I’d had, you’d know just how grateful and relieved I am to see you.”

“Do you need me to check your ego, prince? You’re not that handsome, you know.”

Lucien tipped his head back to laugh, genuinely delighted for the first time all day. He needed to hear that and perhaps wanted Elain to see that he could laugh at his own expense. He was a prince, sure, but also the kind of man she could tease a little.

But when he looked back, Elain was still watching with a carefully guarded expression. 

“And how have you been, Captain?” Vassa asked, finally turning to look at Jurian. 

“I count the minutes you’re away,” Jurian replied dryly. Lucien swore Vassa’s cheeks flushed and a touch of shyness slid over her features. Just for a moment. Just long enough for Jurian to catch too. Her father would never allow this match—Lucien knew for a fact Lord Koshington was looking for someone for his daughter. Perhaps them both. Lucien could ask for either woman if he wanted but Jurian would never be able to convince a lord of Koschington’s merit for the hand of his only daughter and heir. Whatever man Vassa married would be entrusted with the estate and Jurian, for all his accomplishments, was simply not the sort of man Koschington envisioned for her.

Lucien suspected Vassa would do her duty and marry as she was told to while carrying on an affair with Jurian as so many other ladies at court did. That was an open secret no one did much about so long as there were no disputes over it. Occasionally some errant husband would become enraged and kill another noble, giving them all something to gossip over while Lucien’s father dealt with the headache. 

If Vassa asked him, though, he could have interceded on her behalf. Perhaps he could make Jurian nobility if he went to his father shamefaced and apologetic and agreed to be a better son. Lucien’s gaze cut to Elain. She was a lady, wasn’t she? Southern born, which was the only true criteria his mother had laid down. Perhaps, he reasoned, he could use his marriage as a bargaining chip for both Vassa and Jurian.

He’d elevate one daughter to a princess and in exchange, Koschington would allow the other to marry his Captain, now Lord of some tract of land further north. Of course, that all hinged on Lady Elain even wanting him and as they stood now, things looked bleak for Lucien. Not to mention if he had such a visceral reaction to this woman, perhaps he would to others that were more agreeable.

Still. It was a thought he wasn’t willing to wholly discard. Not yet. 

“I’m sure you two are incredibly busy,” Vassa said, still looking at Jurian. “We should—”

“Will you be at dinner tonight?” Lucien blurted out, once again looking—and speaking—to Elain. Her eyes widened, glancing over at Vassa to answer for her. 

“Only if you promise us a good table.”

“Consider it done,” Lucien said, sweeping into another bow. It was an instinct that told him when true danger was approaching. Some call in his blood, a pull that turned his usual heat to ice. 

Eris was near.

He could feel the prickling on the back of his neck, the awareness that he was being watched much the way prey must feel when a predator was near. He didn’t want to be caught here by Eris—didn’t want this showdown to happen in front of a woman he might want to court.

“Until this evening, then.”

Vassa merely waved him off, looping her arm through Elain’s to guide them further into the foliage while he and Jurian watched, both enamored. Just until the rounded a corner and Lucien could shake off whatever spell Elain had unwittingly cast.

It was like a bucket of cold water poured over his head.

“Eris is near,” he said, his voice slipping into a growl. Jurian cast one last love-lorn look in Vassa’s direction before setting his jaw.

“Well. Let’s give him a southern welcome.”

Lucien grinned. “After you.”

The moment Elain and Vassa were out of earshot, Vassa immediately burst into laughter. 

“Stop it,” Elain chided, bewildered and a little embarrassed. The prince—the actual prince—had been gaping at her like he’d never seen a woman in his life. Elain hadn’t expected to meet him so close. He was handsome, just as Vassa had promised, though she’d undersold how attractive he was. Even with the trio of brutal scars raking down one of his russet colored eyes, gouged so deep into his cheeks they still seemed fresh, Lucien was easily the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Beautiful in a dangerous sort of way.

Beautiful and he knew it, had been told so his entire life. Something about that annoyed her. She didn’t want to be another fawning woman, delighted he’d paid her a moment of interest.

Exhaling, Elain rounded on her friend. “You couldn’t say one nice thing to Jurian?”

“No,” Vassa replied quickly, some of her amusement fading. “I wouldn’t know how.”

“He’s handsome.”

“As handsome as the prince—”

“That’s enough,” Elain interrupted primly. “The prince is not hurting for beautiful company. I doubt he will be thinking of me come this time next week.”

“And if he is?”

“Then I shall disabuse him of the notion,” Elain replied, biting her bottom lip. “I have no interest in being an amusement and later discarded when he grows tired of whatever country charm he imagines I possess.”

“Oh, but how fun to watch him run himself ragged for your affection. You’re better off just letting him trail after you for a few days—the longer you resist, the more he will imagine you as his great love.”

“You’ve read too many novels,” Elain complained, reaching for a pretty pink rose. The petals were satin against her fingers, the scent of it sweeter than she remembered. Perhaps there was magic in Rhodes that didn’t exist in the country. 

Or perhaps she, too, had let romantic notions cloud her senses. 

“Maybe. If I…” biting her bottom lip, Vassa faced Elain fully. “If I told you something, would you swear yourself to secrecy no matter what you heard? No matter how much trouble it would cause for you?”

“Of course,” Elain swore, standing upright again. “Anything you need, consider it done.”

“Father is never going to let me leave the city unmarried. He hopes, distantly, the prince might finally show some interest in me beyond friendship but realistically he intends to shop me around to other lords who are suitable enough. I’m being allowed a small taste of freedom but by the time the summer wanes, he’ll have me married and he’ll be looking at you, too. 

“It will take time and he’ll need the kings blessing. As long as the Sun King is preoccupied with his son, he’ll move slowly on everyone else. If I had a mother, perhaps she might appeal to the queen… and I need to take advantage of it.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

Vassa shot Elain a confident smile that didn’t meet her eyes. She was scared. “It is my hope that Jurian will make an offer of marriage. And if he does…I intend to accept. To marry him in secret and ruin myself before father ever learns. There is nothing you can do to help me, nor could you stop me. I just…wanted you to know that I brought you here because I wanted us to have one last summer together. And perhaps I was hoping you might find someone and I wouldn’t have to feel so guilty leaving you behind.”

Elain flung her arms around Vassa, burying her face in her friend's neck. “Don’t worry a jot about me. I’ll be fine. And your secret is safe with me—if anyone asks if I knew, I’ll lie so convincingly it’ll make the gods weep.”

Vassa hugged her back, exhaling a warm breath against the skin of Elain’s newly exposed neck. “I knew I could count on you. Let's speak no more about it—Jurian hasn’t asked and maybe he won’t. For now, let's discuss what we’ll wear to dinner tonight. Something that will ruin Prince Lucien’s evening.”

“You’re a menace. Do you know that?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon giggling through the garden, all talk of Jurian and Lucien banished from conversation. In truth, Elain forgot about the prince entirely by the time she reached their shared chamber to wash away the sweat of the day and to change. The clothes she’d brought with her had been neatly hung in a nearby closet along with a row of new gowns likely purchased on her behalf by some harried servant. Elain laid a few out on the bed before deciding it was far worse to be the only person out of fashion in a room filled with worldly ladies than it was to worry so much about modesty.

Besides, the gowns hid everything—they merely lacked so many of the stiff layers she was accustomed to. Elain wouldn’t pretend she didn’t like the ability to button herself rather than needing two servants to help get her into her layers and tie everything up, even if she did feel a tad exposed in the silken jade gown she found herself in. Wishing she’d paid more attention to how everyone else was dressed, Elain elected to leave half her hair down with pins in her little wristlet, just in case she had to quickly pull it up. 

Vassa was waiting in the wide, marble lain halls in a gown of violet that looked utterly stunning against the golden brown of her skin. If Elain was terribly out of fashion, her friend surely would have said something, but instead she looped her arm through Elains and began walking her through the palace. 

Vassa had been before enough times to know the layout, allowing the pair to dawdle as Vassa pointed out paintings she thought Elain would enjoy and or explained what marble bust belonged to what long-dead king. There was something deeply thrilling about seeing the history of her home up close and personal—something that made her feel strangely proud to live there. 

A feeling that slid into anxiety the moment she and Vassa walked into the grand hall. Reproposed for a banquet, at least a hundred little tables dotted the expansive room, all facing the long, high table where the royal family would sit. The king was already there, a golden goblet dangling between his fingers as he surveyed guests pouring in.

Was it her imagination, or was he looking at her? Definitely her imagination, Elain decided. She wasn’t nobility, and Vassa’s family was minor nobility at that. Still…those golden eyes, set against warm, dark brown skin, seemed to stare right through her, seeing everything she was and everything she had ever been.

Someone she didn’t recognize approached the king, drawing his attention—which had never been on her—far, far away.

“We’re probably back here,” Vassa murmured, clasping Elain’s between her own. “If we get seated quickly, we can eat before anyone else.”

“I am starving,” Elain admitted with a breathless laugh. The entire thing was exhilarating, so decadent that Elain felt utterly alone in that room as she drank in the gilded walls, the high, arching ceilings and the glass windows that rose up to meet them. Beyond them, Elain could see the placid sea, brighter than any blue diamond and clearer than any sky.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Prince Lucien appeared from seemingly nowhere, eyes bright. He looked…well. He was absurd in his beauty, so lovely in his gold trimmed blue jacket that

Elain’s teeth were set on edge. He’d braided the top half of his head, pulling it back with a leather strap that somehow made his cheekbones seem sharper, his jaw more defined. The rest of his hair curled loosely about his shoulders, longer than Vassa’s when her friend wore it unbound, though not half as curly. 

He was looking at her again and Vassa knew it.

“You’re much more accommodating this time than you were the last time I was here.”

“Give it time,” Lucien replied with genuine amusement. “When father begins one of his terrible speeches it will be nice to have someone nearby to rescue me.”

“You tease me,” Elain complained. As if she could rescue a prince from his wordy father.

Lucien placed a large, ringed hand against his heart. “Lady Elain, I would never.”

Elain doubted that given the twinkle in his russet eyes. Still, though, it was kind of nice to be the object of his interest, however short-lived she suspected it would be. Warmth flooded through Elain’s face, impossible to hide given how fair her skin was.

Lucien’s smile was laced with pleasure. “This way, ladies.”

Vassa merely rolled her eyes, bouncy curls blowing in a nearby breeze. Elain kept her eyes down, well aware everyone in the vicinity was looking at her. Oh, how she wished they weren’t—not like this, at any rate. It wasn’t that she hated being the subject of their attention, but she would have preferred it be because she was stunning in some new dress and not because the prince’s fingers were grazing her elbow. 

The table wasn’t just close—it was the first one before the high table—a seat reserved for people far more important than Elain and Vassa. They weren’t alone—Lord Koschington was already there flanked on either side by men at least a decade older than him. All three rose from their seats to bow to the prince before returning to their conversation, leaving Elain and Vassa awkwardly staring Lucien down.

“Well,” Elain finally said when she couldn’t stand it a moment later. “This was generous of you.”

“You’ll find I can be very generous, Lady Elain.”

“Just Elain is fine,” she promised, embarrassed all over again. 

“Well, just Elain, my generosity comes with strings, if that helps to put your mind at ease.”

“Oh? What strings are those?”

“Lunch with me? And if it goes well, a turn around the garden.”

Elain nearly said no. The urge was automatic. Something stopped her—the notion that if Lucien spent a few hours alone with her, he’d realize how woefully plain she was, how inept her social graces in comparison to other women. His interest would wane and she wouldn’t have to be firm with him at all. That was, truthfully, a best case scenario. 

So Elain nodded, lowering her eyes demurely. “That would be lovely.” Lucien’s delight radiated like pure light just beneath his skin. “You’ve given me something to look forward to.” And then he was gone, leaving Lord Koschington watching with curiosity and Ealin even more embarrassed than before.

“I’m not surprised he likes you,” Vassa began, but Elain wasn’t having it.

“Sit down,” she demanded.

Vassa only laughed. “Bossy. You’ll make an excellent princess.”

Rhodes.

Curling his upper lip, Eris glanced at the dirty streets beneath his gleaming boots. How he loathed the Southern Empire. The city itself was too self-satisfied with itself, certain they were the gods favored people. A blessed empire, having risen from the ashes of centuries of subjugation by the north. The scars for the people weren’t healed—it had been King Helion’s grandfather who’d shaken those chains and thirty years of bloody fighting just to establish a true home with recognized borders. Recognized, Eris thought bitterly, by his father and the late King of the Spine. 

Helion had ended that conflict, invading the north's once impenetrable capitol and genuinely terrifying the realm with the might of his military. If he could break down those walls and get inside, he could potentially cross the spine to the east or the desert to the west. He could have the whole of the continent if he wanted it.

Of course, Helion’s reign hadn’t come without its scandals. His victory cost a princess her life and Archeron his wife. It had also cost the west their queen when he’d stolen her away in the dead of night, declared her marriage to Beron Vanserra completed under duress, and married her himself. 

North and west had a reason to hate the south. Eris had never forgiven Helion for losing his mother and Nesta Archeron, heir apparent to the Northern throne, had never forgiven Helion for the loss of her mother and her younger sister. Eris had heard rumors of her fury.

But meeting her was another thing entirely. He’d made her no promises, of course…but he knew she was thinking the same thing he was—if they married, they could unite their kingdoms and turn their eyes to the south. They could eradicate Helion and take it, too, if they wished. And oh, how Eris wished.

The prospect of asking for Nesta Archeron was the only reason he’d accepted the invitation to the south. Might as well look around for himself. Helion would be looking for peace and his mother absolution, but Eris was looking for exploitable weaknesses. 

Something he could offer up to Nesta Archeron so she had no recourse but to tell him yes. It wouldn’t be love, but Eris didn’t require that. Didn’t want that. His would be a marriage of political convenience and if he needed genuine companionship, he could always take a mistress. 

So there he stood, soaked in sweat and angrier than he’d ever been as he stared up at the monstrosity that was the palace. His half brother was being fussed over—a golden prince Eris would keep alive as a political prisoner in his court, forcing Lucien to do his bidding with the threat of a sword hanging over his head.

It was Eris’s favorite daydream. The destruction of Helion’s court, the ruination of his empire, and his son and wife forced to live in Eris’s home under Eris’s rule. Despite himself, he smiled, ignoring the butler who wanted to give him a tour as he strode into the palace. He knew it well enough and didn’t want the royal family to know where he was until he was ready to make a grand entrance. 

Helion’s kingdom was said to house an impressive collection of knowledge and the rarest (and items stolen he didn’t want found) were housed within his personal collection within his palace. Eris had never been interested before, annoyed by the philosophers and scholars that inhabited these spaces. Old men obsessed with the sound of their own voices who had never been told their ideas weren’t interesting. 

But today was pure chaos and if the Sun Palace was anything like his home, everyone would be congregated wherever the wine was, neglecting their responsibilities under the deluded belief no one would find out. Eris took the stairs two at a time, eyes darting around him to be sure no one was watching.

Though if they were—and if he was caught—he’d simply feign ignorance. No one stopped him, allowing him to climb higher and higher, walking down halls with his hands jammed in the pockets of his cream colored pants. He opened bedroom doors like they belonged to him, ran his oily fingers over windows and paintings, and kicked over a potted plant just because it amused him to do so. 

And when he reached the room he’d come all this way to see—Helion’s famed library—Eris found it delightfully abandoned, just as he’d expected it to be. There were three more towering floors, attached to what he supposed was the highest tower of the palace. Spiraling stairs led to rows and rows of books unreachable even by the rather tall ladders. Desks and chairs on the first level were, he supposed, for scholarly pursuits that seemed to vanish once one reached that second level.

The third was entirely off limits to anyone but Helion’s most trusted. And they were gone, Eris thought, stepping through the arch way. The room itself could be hidden behind wooden ivory double doors carved with some brightly painted fresco of a heroic battle long faded from memory. 

Eris made it two steps before a woman materialized from a too-bright golden sunbeam pouring into the room. One moment he’d been walking toward items hidden from everyone else in the realm and the next a curved blade was pressed against his neck and his back was slammed against a wall. A slim knee slid between his legs, pressed threateningly against his manhood while a pair of vivid green eyes stared him down cooly.

“I’ll need to see your pass before you take another step,” she said. Eris blinked, taking in the shape of this woman. Thick waves of blonde hair cascaded down her back, tumbling against her shoulders and framing what was, objectively, a beautiful face. Her bronzed skin seemed to shimmer in the light as though dusted in sunlgiht and those eyes of hers—green and flecked with gold—were lightly lined in black kohl. 

“I don’t need a pass—” he began, utilizing the haughtiest voice he could muster given the position he found himself in. In any other circumstances, overpowering her would have been a simple thing.

But Eris wasn’t willing to risk his throat, nevermind his cock and balls. 

“You do,” she replied, both her knee and her blade pressing just a little rougher. 

“Don’t you know who I am?” he demanded. 

“Why don’t you tell me?” she challenged, one eyebrow raised as though it wouldn’t matter. He was going to see her personally punished for this, he decided. 

“Prince Eris—”

“Oh, a prince,” she interrupted, her voice dripping with disdain. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Do you have a pass?”

Eris was rarely speechless. But right then, looking down at a woman that was primed to kill him over a book, Eris found himself at a loss for words. 

“No,” he spat, outraged that some nobody was preventing him from snooping. And no one, in his life, had ever dared such defiance. This woman did, though. She didn’t care he was a prince or the queens eldest son. She merely saw an intruder and felt empowered to spill his blood against her feet if need be.

“I’m glad we agree. If I remove my knife from your throat, are you going to leave peacefully?” she asked, her tone dripping with condescension. Had they been home, Eris could have thrown her in a cell for that hateful look on her face alone, not mentioning the way in which she addressed him. 

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Eris promised, his lip curling with disdain. To her credit, the woman stepped back, removing herself entirely from his body, though that knife remained between them. “I’ll see you punished for this.”

She smiled, smoothing one hand over the yellow of her dress. “Of course, your majesty.”

“You think I won’t?” Eris hissed, unsure why he hadn’t stormed out. Just leave. Fuck the last word. 

“Oh, I’m certain you will,” was her reply, eyes burning with amusement. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and the king will allow me the privilege of hearing your explanation as to why a future foreign king was skulking about a room filled with state secrets. Surely you must have known, but maybe they educated you poorly back home and you can’t read?”

Bitch.

“I can be wherever I like—”

“Wrong, majesty. You know, we hear rumors about you here. Of your…ambitions. I’m sure your impending marriage to a northern princess is mere gossip hardly worth the rags it's printed on, of course, and this little trip was merely an accident.”

Eris’s lips parted, an insult on the tip of his tongue. Who was this woman? Eris wanted her family name more than he’d ever wanted anything, if only so he could burn it from the face of the world. When he came marching into Rhodes with an army, she could be the first person to meet his sword. 

“Some people would think it was unwise, insulting a future king.”

Her eyes flicked to the knife in her hand. “I think some people might thank me for protecting my home. In fact, I think a parade might be held in my honor if you took another step toward me and fell on my knife.”

“Is that a threat?” he demanded.

She smiled. “I’m glad you noticed. I was starting to think these subtleties were flying right over your poor, illiterate head. Yes, your lordship. This is a threat. A wiser man would recognize he’d been caught and leave, but I can see you’re not wise and so perhaps I ought to spell it in simple terms you’ll understand: your mere presence in this room could be considered an act of war. Remove yourself, or I shall do it for you.”

Fuck her.

“This isn’t over.”

She followed behind as he turned on his heel, burning with an anger so hot it would have manifested as flame against his skin had he any magical ability. Eris could feel its heat shimmering off him, fingers curling and uncurling with the urge to teach her a lesson she’d never forget. She was no one, some lowly peasant made to feel important and elevated by a bastard king. 

Eris expected one last quip—turned around to face her. She flashed him a smile, those eyes still sparkling with amusement.

And then slammed the double doors in his face. On the other end, he swore he heard soft laughter though maybe he imagined it. Eris exhaled, overwhelmed and frustrated and furious all at once.

It wasn’t over between them.

Eris would have the last laugh.

Ellesmere was easily the worst city Cassian had ever visited in his life. Velaris was the best, of course, and Rhodes was nice if a little hot for his taste. He’d seen Allfeld once which personally was enough given how much pollen seemed to be in the air, though it had been autumn at the time and he’d quite liked the glittering jewel-top trees that dotted the sloping hillsides.

Ellesmere had no charm whatsoever. Only fog and a constant misting of rain that left Cassian damp beneath the leathered armor he wore. 

He’d put on wool socks to keep his feet dry that day, tucked into boots that were supposed to be waterproof and hoped for the best. Rhys was supposed to be out charming the nobles and who the fuck knew where Azriel had gone. By the time Cassian dragged his ass out of bed, Azriel was nowhere to be found and Rhys was agonizing over a lock of hair that wouldn’t lay just right. 

Cassian was grateful no one expected perfection out of him. He’d shaved his face—though the dark stubble would be back before noon—and pulled the thick, dark waves that cascaded to his shoulders into a half messy bun. Good enough.

Dumb brute, remember?

As if he could ever forget. At home, Cassian was a hero. People cared about the words that came out of his mouth, respected him as someone of  great intelligence. But out here, he knew what they saw. The other kingdoms must employ idiots to lead their armies, or something particular about Cassian gave off the impression he liked the taste of blood. And Cassian had never once tried to correct that notion given he did like a little blood smeared across his mouth. 

But it irked him at times, chafing against him like rough material against soft skin. 

He had a job—only one, at least, while he was trapped in this gloomy hellscape, which was to get a sense and scope of the military power Ellesmere commanded. How did they fight, how many of them remained, their tactics, their training. Anything Cassian could weaponize against them. Cassian needed them to believe he was one of them.

Less than, even. That he couldn’t take even a day off from swinging his swords when truthfully, were he back home, Cassian would have been parked at Ritas waiting for a massive plate of eggs and bacon. Ah, well. There would be more of that later, though he couldn’t help but feel like he was wasting the best weather Velaris had to offer to the rain. 

And breakfast wasn’t horrible, at least. He’d been allowed to eat alone given there was no expectation he would eat with the royals. Cassian picked through one of his books, wasting time hoping the weather would clear and the sun would come out, even if it didn’t warm the air. When it became clear he wasn’t going to get his wish, Cassian sighed, armed himself, and made his way toward the training yard housed within the palace walls. He’d seen barracks on his way in, tucked off in the distance, when he’d first come into the city. That was where Cassian really wanted to be. 

If Rhys did his job well, Cassian would be invited to watch them train and possibly train alongside him. It was ego the way so many cities assumed they had something to teach him. There was a reason Velaris hadn’t been invaded, though Cassian knew everyone loved to chalk it up to The Spine. The mountains were passable, their coast relatively undefended. There was little need, though they did have a Navy. 

Cassian was always waiting, sword in hand. 

Today, though, was just about seeing the best of the best. They’d be looking to impress him, knowing full well Cassian would tell Rhys. All in good time. Cassian liked to think he was clever enough to keep his mouth shut with a face that always seemed pleased right up until his sword was pressed against someones throat.

They expected that from Azriel. Maybe they expected that knife in the back from Rhys. But despite his titles, no one ever expected that from Cassian, though he was always the quickest to jump to bloodshed. 

Eloquence was Rhys’s domain. 

Cassian shuddered when he stepped outside, shaking out his hands to try and keep himself together. This period of time in his life would pass until he forgot it entirely. There was no way in hell he’d ever agree to return here and was grateful Rhys wasn’t actually interested in any of the princesses on offer. 

Cassian wished he could say the same. He’d half forgotten Nesta Archeron—could have forgotten her completely for the majority of the day, even—had she not been walking toward him in a well-fitted violet coat dress, the hood pulled over her face and lined with immaculate white fur.

Her fair cheeks were flushed from the chill or exertion, making those silvery eyes of her brighter by comparison. The scowl on her face couldn’t diminish the beauty that radiated from her and just like it had the day before, Cassian felt struck by her. Nesta’s whole person was its own blade at his throat, threatening to spill him open at any moment. 

She halted when she saw him, hands jammed into her pockets. Eyes narrowed with suspicion, he wondered if she’d speak to him. It was only after a moment of staring that Cassian remembered he probably ought to bow. That felt strange—Rhys had never required that and Helion was so casual it was cause for teasing if Cassian were to try. Something about Nesta demanded it, though, and so Cassian felt himself bending at the waist, one hand on his stomach. 

“You mock me?” she asked, unaware of the sincerity of his pounding heartbeat.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cassian heard himself say, his every word laced with amusement rather than the reverence he felt. And though he was so much taller than her, Cassian felt small as Nesta approached, her spine ramrod straight. He wished he could convince her to come to Velaris and teach his soldiers that sort of posture. 

Hell, maybe she could teach him, too. 

“Where are you going?”

Straight to hell, he thought privately as he tried not to imagine what she was like when she liked a man. Jealousy gnawed at him knowing Rhys was here to court her, swallowed quickly before Cassian was consumed. Glancing at one of the hilts peeking over his shoulder, Cassian offered her another quick smile. “To train with your guards.”

She scoffed. “I should think one sword would be more than sufficient.”

“Oh? Something you want to tell me, princess?”

He hadn’t meant for his words to sound suggestive. Cassian was genuinely asking her—were they not capable of fighting off a warrior holding a weapon in each hand? But something about her made everything he said sultry and Nesta’s cheeks burned with heat. 

She was sweet. Cassian wanted to taste her. 

“Just…they’re more…” Nesta was flustered. He knew if he came any closer she’d take off like a skittish baby deer, fortifying herself for their next interaction. Put her at ease, a voice whispered in his head—it sounded suspiciously like Mor. So Cassian relaxed his posture, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He was, afterall, just a man.

And he wasn’t a threat to her. Everyone else, perhaps—and one day she’d hate him for the part he was playing to keep her father from starting another war—but not her. 

“They’re mostly decorative,” Nesta finally said, coming back to her senses. “And I suspect you are the opposite.”

“Shrewd of you,” Cassian praised, taking in this information. “I would think the palace guards were the best your kingdom had to offer.”

She rolled her eyes. “If that were true, Feyre would be easier contained within its walls.”

Cassian filed that away, too. Where did the little princess run off to, he wondered? And why was Nesta telling him this? She didn’t strike him as the uncareful type. No, Nesta was giving him little crumbs he was certain were leading somewhere. The expression on her face was too well guarded for anything else. 

“And you?” he guessed.

Nesta only shrugged. “Where would I go beyond the palace walls, General?”

Cassian’s body went tight all at once. Fuck, but that voice… “Anywhere you like, I hope. Unless this is a cry for help and you’ve actually been held hostage?”

The faintest whisper of a smile spread over her features. Pretty thing. Cassian wanted to touch her and thought that was the quickest way to lose a hand. 

“My life is one of endless wonder,” she assured him, her voice dry and laced with sarcasm. “I am incandescently happy.”

“My apologies, my lady,” Cassian murmured, needing to get some air before he did something monumentally stupid. “Far be it from to cast aspersions on you and your life. But…if you find yourself wishing you knew how to wield a blade so you could…I don’t know…move more effectively in the world…you know where to find me.”

And then he kept walking, refusing to touch her as he passed though it was hell not to even brush a wisp of hair from her cheek. 

“Why would you do that?” Nesta asked when they were shoulder to shoulder, staring straight ahead. Cassian watched her from the corner of his eye. 

“You’ll need to know if you’re going to marry Rhys,” he replied, the words ash on his tongue. Nesta didn’t move.

“That’s it?”

“Maybe I want a reason to see you again.”

Her breath curled around her face like a shadow, vanishing in the gloomy morning light. “I’ll think about it.”

There was nothing Cassian could say that wouldn’t make him sound insane. So he nodded, clenching his jaw to keep his words leashed before he took off walking again. There was no reason to arm that woman—and every possibility she would take everything she learned and turn around and use it against them.

And yet the thought of Nesta pressing a blade against his throat was so erotic that Cassian had to lap around the garden twice before making his way to the training yard, later than he’d meant to be.

And still—it was worth it. 

#elucien #nessian #eris being the worst #all the usual shenanigans #tragically as i wrap up chapter 5 i think i need 5 more chapters #I will keep clackity clacking away

[ofduskanddreams]

The Embers of Us — Snippet

requested by @thelovelymadone

CW: REFERENCES TO DOMESTIC VIOLENCE & CHILD ABUSE (below the cut)

✦ ✦ ✦

Eris’s breaths cloud with every exhale before dissolving into the early April air. The rising sun will peek above the feathered crowns of the fir trees lining the far side of the river any minute.

He’s twenty-nine today. A year from now he’ll be thirty.

If his twenty-year-old self could see him right now—still in Wyoming, still single, running Autumn Crest Ranch of all things—he’d think it was a nightmare come true. But Eris has learned to love this place.

It turns out that it wasn’t the ranch he hated; it wasn’t the small town that made him feel like the walls were closing in even under endlessly blue skies, it was his father. Beron Vanserra was the rot in the roots; a poison, slow and insidious in its creeping.

Eris ran off to Seattle for university when the chance presented itself. It had been a selfish choice, a desperate one if he’s being honest, but a choice that he loves and loathes with equal measure.

Those had been four years when he’d left his mother and brothers here under his father’s fist and unprotected. Those four years had also been the first time he’d felt truly alive—truly himself—for longer than a few stolen hours at a time.

Beron died when the ranch was about to go under three years prior. Eris thinks that if he didn’t have those precious few years to learn and live the way he wanted to, he would have failed his family when he inherited the ranch. Instead, he turned things around.

It is still a “working” ranch by all technical definitions but their cattle herd is mainly for show. After all, tourists come to Starlight Creek from all corners of the world to get an “authentic” experience at Autumn Crest Ranch.

Does it make him a sellout? Potentially. But Eris would rather take the judgemental looks from the other ranchers in the area than be unable to provide a comfortable life for his mother and brothers.

And there’s the added bonus of this: of the sun climbing and setting fire to the treetops, of Cinder and Vulcan chasing after a rabbit, of Candy’s warmth seeping through his jeans into his calves as they walked parallel to the gravelly river bank.

It’s these moments that fill him with an inundating sense of peace, of home, and Eris marvels that this is the same land he grew up on. In the absence of Beron’s shadow it’s a different world: one where his mother is often smiling and never concealing bruises, one where Lucien does his homework at the kitchen table and Maddox can read a novel in the living room instead of hiding away so as not to be noticed.

In this world, Eris flies a Pride flag right below Old Glory and flips the ground the finger whenever he leaves the house and sees it on the pole. He hopes his father is rolling over in his grave at the fact that his ranch is more successful in the hands of his bisexual son than it ever was when he was alive and throwing slurs at the TV whenever a man appeared on-screen that didn’t match his definition of the word.

In this world, Eris’s home and family are flourishing and he wakes up looking forward to the day ahead. When this is already so much more than he’d ever imagined for himself, what more could he want?

#the embers of us #azris #azris fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #eris vanserra #azriel acotar #eris acotar #azriel x eris #eris x azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #eris vanserra fanfic

[wellthebardsdead]

Me just imagining marigold arriving home in the summerset at around 250ish years old, Kaidan passed away some time prior and now he’s too weak to take care of himself alone anymore and Lucien and inigo passed and the kids are all either dead or old and far away with their own families.

He’s rolled off the ship in a wheelchair and Caryalind, now king, is waiting for him with his prince consort Taliesin. They both know marigold being half bosmer and already in so much pain, doesn’t have long left. Still they give him a hug as he cries and tells them how lonely it’s been on his own, and they take care of him and keep him company in his final days.

He passes away peacefully in a late afternoon nap, resting in the palace gardens holding a half made flower crown of forget me nots and lions mane marigolds, and a dried dragon tongue flower Kaidan had given him long ago.

All the while the dragons that had followed him to the isles roar out a mournful cry and sing his eulogy to the isles and all of tambriel.

#marigold dragonborn #skyrim taliesin #Kaidan skyrim #Caryalind skyrim

[danikamariewrites]

what do you think about brattamer batboys/ lucien and eris?👀 like reader is having a massive attitude and is being spoiled and the boys aren’t having any of it😋 I can literally imagine rhys being like , darling don’t whine it’s not a good look😩

Behave Little Fox

Eris x brat!reader

A/n: I went with Eris for this one bc I had it in my head and needed it out lol

Warnings: daddy kink, brat attitude, and suggestive

Eris watches you float around his study, occasionally stopping to admire the little trinkets on the shelves or pickup a book. A soft smile playing on your lips when you found something you liked. It was rare that you were behaving. And today Eris was thankful for your good mood and was praying to the Mother nothing changed.

Yesterday your bratty attitude was like nothing he’d ever seen. After you had yelled at one of the butlers for not getting your lunch right Eris had taken your bedroom to reprimand you for misbehaving. Eris had never been too stern with you, just the right amount where you could push his buttons and then bat your lashes at him to get out of being told off.

Eris knew you just wanted his attention and he felt bad that he’d been extra busy over the last week. Today he decided that you would stay by his side to give the staff a break with dealing with you. He also missed you so this was more for him.

As he watched you put back a golden statuette he cleared his throat, “Darling, come here.” He said with a smile. You skip over to him and he pats his lap for you to sit on. Sitting on his thigh he wraps his arms around you and places a kiss on the crown of your head.

“You’ve been so good today little fox.” He murmurs. You snuggle into his chest, smiling, “I know.” Eris chuckles at your response. He takes your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger tilting your head back to look at him. “Tell you what, if you can keep up your good behavior, just for the rest of today I’ll take you on that shopping spree I promised tomorrow.”

Your eyes light up. Eris had been saying he’d take you shopping for weeks now, but he’d been so busy with being High Lord and all. It was partly why you had been extra bratty lately, all you wanted was his attention. He suggested you go alone one day and you flipped out.

Just as you were leaning in to kiss his perfect pink lips the door to his study flew open. One of his advisors, one that you very much disliked, stumbled in looking panicked and out of breath. Eris sighed asking what he wanted.

As the older male prattled on and on about something needing Eris’s immediate attention you stared daggers at him. The anger on your face growing by the word. The fact that Eris was even entertaining him while you were sitting in his lap was making you see red.

“Are you stupid?” You scream at the advisor, causing him to stop mid sentence. Eris opens his mouth to stop you but you cut him off. “You see the High Lord is busy with his High Lady and you have the audacity to interrupt!? Why don’t you take whatever ‘important’ policy that needs attending and stick it up your old, wrinkly-“

Eris squeezes your cheeks in one hand forcing you to face him. He had that stern look on his face that told you, you were in trouble. “Go, I’ll be there in a minute.” You heard the advisor leave and Eris’ grip gets a little tighter.

“I know you weren’t listening fox but this does need my attention. If I hear you’ve been a good girl while I’m gone you’ll get your reward, and maybe something extra.” You try to smirk through his grip, he pulled you closer to him so your noses were touching. “But, if I hear a whisper of that bratty attitude, all of that goes away and you’re getting punished. Have I made myself clear?”

He lets go of your cheeks and you nod, “Yes daddy.” You say with an innocent tone. He tenses at the nickname. Eris looks as if he’s contemplating going to this emergency meeting or if he’d rather stay here and bend you over his desk.

Standing, you switch spots with him to take his seat. As Eris opens the door he looks back at you. You give him an innocent smile which he returns with a genuine, loving one. You really didn’t want him to leave even though he’d be gone for a few hours. But you were determined to keep your bratty attitude at bay.

You wanted to do it for him. You felt bad he was stressed out lately and the last thing he needed distracting him was you acting out. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath you decide to take a walk. That would help you clear your head.

Out in the gardens you were admiring your favorite flowers that had finally bloomed. Eris had them planted for you when he realized they weren’t in the garden. It had been a few hours since Eris had left for his meeting. You had behaved yourself, stayed away from anyone that annoyed you, and put a smile on your face. You didn’t have anything to really be upset about, knowing you’d have Eris’ attention back soon.

And the thought of your reward was keeping you in line. Eris did have an expensive promise to keep after all. If there’s anything you loved more than Eris it was expensive stuff.

One of your personal guards cautiously approached you, clearing his throat to make himself known, “My Lady,” you look at him, your gaze soft and approachable with an undertone of ‘what could you possibly want’. “The High Lord is finished and is asking for you.”

You stand brushing out the skirt of your dress with a bored look on your face. “Where would he like to see me?” The guard stumbles over his words a little before he spits out that Eris is in your living quarters. You rolled your eyes and stormed past the nervous male.

Entering your living room you smile at Eris. He’s lounging on the soft, forest green couch, swirling a glass of whiskey in his large hand. He beckons you over to him and climb onto his lap.

You peck his cheek with a little giggle, you rest your head on his chest and stare up at him lovingly. “I heard you were good little fox, is that true?” “Mmhhmm.” Eris places a kiss on your temple, “Good girl.” Your cheeks heat up at the sincerity in his voice.

He pulls you to straddle him and puts his whiskey down so his hands can roam your curves. “How about I give you the first part of your reward.” You nod as Eris attaches his lips to your neck, kissing up and down the column of your throat.

———

The next afternoon Eris made good on his promise and took you into the city to go shopping. Anything you wanted he bought it for you.

You found a beautiful pair of heels you really wanted but the store didn’t have your size. Before you could yell at the incompetent sales woman Eris excused her. You looked at him with an angry pout and crossing your arms.

Eris ran his thumb over your cheek, tracing down your face and pulling at your bottom lip. You whine at him, “I really wanted these.” “Then we will order them for you.” He says softly.

You stomp your foot at him whining again. Holding your chin gently he tuts at you, “What did I say about whining little fox?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“Sorry Eris.” You murmur. He smirks at you placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “We’ll order these and you can pick out two more pairs.” You smile at him and bounce on your toes, flinging your arms around him. “Thank you daddy.” You whisper in his ear and he pinches your ass.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #eris acotar #eris vanserra acotar #eris x you #eris vanserra x you #high lord eris #eris vanserra x reader #Eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra acotar x reader

[fieldofdaisiies]

In Love With A Fairytale

for my two year writing anniversary I planned on doing something special and something a little different, which will now be acotar x Grimm fairytales. thank you @ultadverb for the initial idea and @autumndreaming7 for being such a great help in developing the story lines etc. 💛💛💛

✥ Sleeping Beauty (Elain x Azriel) 🦋

When exploring the garden, young Elain meets a to her unknown malevolent old woman and stings herself on a rose and falls into an endless sleep, there is only one person who can help her, a male borne of shadows and darkness. he comes for her, but can he save the young woman's life and win her heart? (for Elriel month)

✥ Hansel & Gretel (Emerie x Morrigan) 🌶️

On a search for food that takes Emerie and her brother to the forest, the young woman does not expect to instead of food discover a witch who is not only absolutely intriguing, but also nothing like Emerie had imagined a witch to be.

✥ 12 Dancing Princesses (Nesta x Cassian) 🌫️ 🦋

The three sisters go dancing each night, lying to their father. The father is furious and wants to find out their secret, young men from the kingdom are tasked to discover their secret but all of them fail. Until one man, Cassian, returns from war. He walks through the woods, is gifted with a cloak of invisibility and can so secretly follow the three sister. What he does not expect is that in his attempt to discover their secret he slowly falls in love with the oldest of them. 

✥ Red Riding Hood (Elain x Lucien) 🌶️

On her way home from her sick aunt when the sun already starts to set Elain stumbles upon a fox. What she does not know is that this fox is a beautiful man who wants nothing more than lure into his fox’s burrow, wanting to show her all the pleasures their night together has to offer.

✥ Rapunzel (Gwyn x Azriel) 🦋

Escaping her haunting past Gwyneth saves herself in a tower that is locked from the inside without a chance to enter. In order to pass her time there she reads and sings. Her song is so enchanting that a young man is drawn there and keeps returning to the forest, but will she let him enter? Will he help her heal and live again? Or will he be just another whisper between the trees?

✥ Cindarella (Eris x Azriel) 🌫️

Newly crowned King Eris wants to bring about change and reform in the Autumn Kingdom, after his father, the late King Beron passed. He knows he can’t do this on his own so sets out to find the one and holds a ball, inviting every nobleman and woman to a masked ball to celebrate the kingdom and to find his intended. Azriel, who barely sees the light of day, living in his father’s dungeon and being treated as nothing more than a servant in the family household, hears there is to be a ball and longs to go and get lost in the music of the evening. Little does he know what the future holds? (for Azris week)

✥ The Devil With the Three Golden Hairs (Feyre x Rhysand) 🦋

The king is looking to marry, and Feyre’s father would do anything to ensure his youngest daughter - Feyre Archeron - will marry King Tamlin. The king  wants proof that she is worthy of wearing the crown and bearing him heirs, and so sets her a quest - to steal the three golden hairs from the devil. Feyre sets out on her quest for the Hewn City, unaware that the devil is already waiting for her arrival. What will Feyre find in the Hewn City, will she be able to outwit the devil or will she have to strike a bargain to get what she needs to save her family?

#elriel #elucien #gwynriel #azris #nessian #feysand #emorie #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acotar au