#lucienarcheron

[dawneternal]

☁︎ Iris, from @lucienarcheron 's Spirit Meets the Bones

☁︎ "I haven't slit your throat yet so how mean am I, really?" She said and gave him a pointed look.

☁︎ please don't repost, I do not consent for my work to be used with AI (if you see either, please let me know)

#acotar #fan art #fanart #acotar fan art #acotar fanart #acotar oc #autumn court #autumn court aesthetic #autumn court oc #eris vanserra #lucienarcheron #spirit meets the bones #smtb #Ollie draws

[animezinglife]

"'You’re willing to be my friend first, then?' she asked quietly. 'Friendship was the first thing I offered you,' he replied simply. And it hit Iris then — how incredibly similar they were. A fact Eris seemed to have figured out early on. He was someone who needed a person just as badly as she did." -Iris x Eris, Spirit Meets the Bones by @lucienarcheron

#spirit meets the bones #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #iris #a court of thorns and roses #fic recs #(guest starring Lyra) #iris x eris moodboard #smtb #lucienarcheron #moononastring

[gwyns]

HAPPIEST OF HAPPY BIRTHDAYS!!! 🥰🥰♥️♥️🫂🫂 may it be an amazing day and a year full of wonderful things for you! I adore ya and am always so happy to have known you for as long as I have!! Enjoy your day darling!! 🎉🎂🥳

omgggg gigi !!! this is so sweet, thank you!! 🩷🩷🩷 i hope you're having a wonderful day too 💕🫂💖

#asks #lucienarcheron

[katebeckets]

✨ hope you have a lovely weekend darling~

aww thank you, you too! here is your moodboard ^-^

#hope it makes sense hehe #answered #lucienarcheron

[christopherherondale]

🌹✨This is the you are amazing award. Send it to ten humans you think are wonderful or just take a moment to bask in your own awesomeness! ✨ 🌹

Thank you so much for this, my sweet wonderful angel!! 🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️

#also boop!! #lucienarcheron #answered

[moononastring]

PSA!

After much debate, I'm going to slowly lock down this blog and start utilizing the actual main blog linked to this account as the main page I use. I wanted a fresh start and it will be much easier for me to navigate tumblr and revamp some things. I will slowly be reposting my fics on that blog and reblogging things from this one. Once I lock this blog here, people won't be able to interact with it but many of the posts will find their way to the new blog regardless!

You can follow my main @lucienarcheron (which is a URL I am PUMPED to use) and though it's a bit empty now, that will quickly change lol. Whoever I already follow, nothing will change!

If y'all don't mind boosting this, I would appreciate it greatly!! ❤❤

tagging some moots : @lovespiralls @vanserrass @nina-zcnik @bookofmirth @witching-by-the-willow @foreverinelysian @cassianandfenrysaremyboyos @climb-the-mountian @helion-ism

@nancydrrew @feysandfeels @lady-yenn

#gpost #yo girl is changing it up #I love moononastring so much but lucienarcheron hits the spot #I didn't tag too many cause I don't want to be annoying lmao #but pass it along pls #elucien #acotar #just because a lot of you follow me from that haha

[gracieart]

Elain is a cuddler and Lucien is a living furnace.

This piece is a gift for my dear friends @separatist-apologist and @lucienarcheron 🧡

#acotar #my art #graciearts #gracieart #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien x elain

[fieldofdaisiies]

Elain and Lucien

Cassian and Nesta

Feyre and Rhys

after the little Bambi and Thumber posts with @lucienarcheron I thought if this hahah

#elucien #feysand #nessian

[crazy-ache]

Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic (Installment I Update)

Title: Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic (Installment I - Chapters I, II, III) Rating: M Summary:

“Perhaps you can speak them to me, if you so wish. I apologize if that is too forward, but I yearn to know you beyond simple pleasantries. 

Yours truly,

Lucien

P.S. My lady, your secrets are always safe with me.” 

Epistolary (adj., of a literary work) in the form of letters. After the winter solstice in ACOSF, Elain and Lucien exchange letters as a means to get to know each other away from prying eyes. This fic is a collection of those letters.

Author’s Note: HERE WE GO! This fic was written between me (crazy-ache) and @zenkindoflove. We each selected a character (you’ll have to guess who though) and then wrote back and forth, pen-pal style. The first installment is now posted! We hope you enjoy our passion project.

READ HERE ON AO3

Tag List: @sunkissedgrrrrl | @shardminds | @works-of-heart | @the-darkestminds | @emmers-bens123 | @lmadness | @sweetnslyth | @rarephloxes | @fox-in-flowers | @lectoradefics | @goldenmagnolias | @addicted-to-nothing | @popjunkie42 | @bakananya | @theseeingfawn | @scrawlandspirits | @animezinglife | @fuckyeselucien | @lucienarcheron | @mr-agent-mulder | @teddyhoneybear | @goghwilde | @starsreminisce | @bibliophiliaxvignette | @dreamingthroughthenoise | @olenvasynyt | @acourtofthought

If you'd like to be added or removed just let us know!

#elucien #elain x lucien #elain and lucien #elucien fic #elucien fanfic #elucien letters #pro elucien #elucien supremacy #sexy pen pal vibes #regency vibes #epistolary fanfic #elucien moodboard #collab fic #part 1 is live #we hope you enjoy! #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

[fuckyeselucien]

Creator Highlight #3 - @lucienarcheron

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

Today we want to highlight @lucienarcheron

Not only is Gigi one of the nicest elucien's around, she's also been in the fandom since 2016, making her one of the original eluciens on tumblr. Don't let her sweetness fool you, though: she can write a filthy fic when the mood strikes! And that's not even mentioning the incredibly popular Spirit Meets the Bones which features fandom favorite Iris giving everyones favorite Autumn Court heir a hard time on the road to love.

Bouquet Full of Loathing: Flower Shop Modern AU - Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”

Quiet Thunder: Lucien expressing his frustrations to Elain. This takes place post-ACOFAS.

Frenzy: Elain and Lucien like to spend their yearly mating anniversary fully wrapped in each other, sinking into a frenzy. Very NSFW.

You can also find more on her masterlist!

#elucien #creator highlight #FuckyesElucien

[teddyhoneybear]

⋆˚✿ 9 people you'd like to know better ° ᡣ𐭩

(I tagged 10 because I like breaking rules)

Thank you for tagging me @clockwork-ashes, @crazy-ache and @bettdraws 🥹🩷

Last song: Me & U by Cassie

Favourite colour: powder pink and burgundy (uhm I can't choose one thing even to save my life)

Currently watching: Lord of the rings (I'm nostalgic these days)

Sweet/Savoury/Spicy food: Sweet forever!!! and then spicy🔥

Relationship status: Single ꃋᴖꃋ

Current obsession: Elain/Lucien/Elucien (I've been so enthralled by them lately)

Last thing I googled: Channing Tatum's age lol (I was only curious😭)

Currently reading: House of flame and shadow (and I'm finally done with SJM's universe, what a ride🎉)

No pressure tags: @mr-agent-mulder @acourtofthought @yaralulu @lorcandidlucienwill @christeak @goghwilde @lucienarcheron @aboggoblin @helion-ism @olenvasynyt

#it really makes my day when I'm tagged in this kind of things #acotar fandom #🩷

[zenkindoflove]

Sathia x Tharion Fanfic

Title: The Art of Seducing Your Merman Husband Relationship: Sathia Flynn/Tharion Ketos Rating: E Status: One-shot, ~3,800 words Summary: When Sathia realizes that Tharion is purposely ignoring all of her attempts at seduction, she decides on Valentine's Day that the only way to finally get her husband in her bed is to make a gesture so obvious, that even a merman with one brain cell would figure it out.

For @sjmromanceweek Day 2 prompt Valentine’s Day Traditions. Thanks to @lucienarcheron for reading and giving me great feedback, especially for the ending. ;)

READ ON AO3

Excerpt

That’s what brought her to this moment. It was not only a Friday night, but to rub further salt in her wounds, Valentine’s Day. Instead of flowers and chocolates and going out to a nice restaurant, they both stayed late at work and Tharion brought tacos home for dinner. They watched Vanir Love on the sofa, to which Tharion had the audacity to crack a joke about how it was fitting for the holiday and could be their new tradition. As they retired for the night, Tharion decided to take a shower. As Sathia listened to the water turn on from the other side of the door, the weeks of trying and failing to seduce him all culminated in her gut. She needed to do something big. A grand gesture. Something so obvious that not even he could pretend he didn’t see.

So, she stripped off all of her clothes and opened the bathroom door.

#sjmromanceweek2024 #sathia x tharion #satharion #sarion #sathia flynn #tharion ketos #tharion x sathia #sathia ketos #crescent city fanfic #crescent city #hofas #hofas spoilers

[helion-ism]

so, after two years I have finally written something again. it's actually one of my new year's resolutions to start writing again, just a little at least, to get into it again. I will probably also edit some of the things I wrote in the past and re-post them again because I had a phase where I deleted almost all of them (just girly things 🤪)

anyways, this is what I came up with. hope you enjoy!

thanks, @lucienarcheron for reading and offering advice 🫶

rating: mature

word count: 3,207

or: read it on ao3

archer and prey

She could feel his wicked grin on her skin as she whimpered in response, leaning back against his hard body, leaning back against his hard body, his kisses lazy – without haste. Her head fell on his shoulder as his clever hands moved to her waist. He held her firmly and with care. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

All she felt and needed to feel was this pure heat he was offering her, this fire he was responsible for that was burning low in her body and threatening to consume her. And Elain could not stop herself from shivering, repeating with a hushed voice, “Please, please.” He chuckled at her impatience.

But he rewarded her the next moment when his tongue was on her neck, drawing circles. And his lips – his perfect lips – moved against her sensitive skin, though never increasing the pace. She liked this torture more than she would ever admit. Liked how he seemed to relish in taking his time with her, too. 

His hands were on her thighs, his fingers burrowed in her skirts, hoisting them up little by little. He wasn’t close enough to where she wanted him, and Elain propped herself against him with a force that surprised and delighted him. He laughed and her stomach clenched at the sound. 

More, more, more. 

She might have said the words aloud. 

Lucien’s hand moved to her neck. It might be his favourite part of hers, she thought, with the way he always kept returning to it. He caressed her collarbone, lay his fingers around her neck, and squeezed lightly. Elain gasped as she felt his hard length at her back, his fingertips gently turning her head to face him. She looked at him and the rugged scar that graced his face. 

Wicked, wanton, wild. 

“Please,” she whispered again and lifted her head to meet his lips. She wanted to make him lose his composure, make him forget his purpose for a second. She kissed him like she had never kissed him before, pressing against him, her hands up in his long hair, tugging and pulling. He groaned and Elain felt the sound in her core – but it wasn’t enough. She needed to feel him everywhere forever. 

Lucien’s hand went to the back of her head, tilting it to have better access to her, his tongue now occupied with her own. He was in charge and taking over, deliberately slowing his movements yet again. She snarled, and he laughed again, this time louder. Her head was spinning. 

Lucien’s other hand moved to her hips, turning and hoisting her up onto him. Elain’s head fell back at the pressure of him against her core and started to move slowly, leisurely against him. She felt so good, breathing his name in painful need. He was wearing too many clothes – she needed them off. 

“You’re mine,” he purred, his lips on her collarbone, sucking until she felt a pain so good, so sharp –

Elain gasped as she bolted up from her bed. Breathing hard and fast, she placed a hand on her chest, willing herself to calm down. She let it happen again. This dream, this fantasy she could never shake off, no matter how much she told herself she hated him in the daylight. It was only in dreams she said his name these days, allowing it to roll off her tongue only then when no one else could hear. 

She felt like a traitor. To Feyre, to Nesta, to herself. 

To him. 

She tried so hard to not think of him, even when he was in town. Even more so when he was out somewhere on the Continent with that human queen. Did not allow her thoughts to ever wander and wonder. Yet, at night, when the stars sparkled in the sky and the winds moved the sheer fabric of her curtains into her bedroom, her traitorous thoughts returned to him. 

She knew it wasn’t fair to anyone. Not to either of them but especially herself. She had promised herself a thousand times to not let it bother her, this feeling that seemed to grow day by day. She thought perhaps that was why this body, this altered mind, now urged her to go to him, to touch him, even if only in her dreams. But she understood that loneliness was a burden she could not get rid of at night even if she could pretend it disappeared under the bright sun of Velaris. She blamed him for it.

Elain shivered as she pushed aside the covers of her bed and walked to the open window. Her feet were cold on the wooden floor, but she didn’t mind. It cleared her head. Velaris looked beautiful at night and she wished it could give her the strength Feyre drew from it. She wished it could be enough that she wanted to fit in. Wished she could feel like Nesta did after suffering for so long. But wishes were not enough and with each day passing, the feeling of isolation and desperation grew inside her and made her restless. Made her feel more alone. 

Elain sighed and leaned her head against the opened window frame. She closed her eyes. 

It could be so quiet here, at night. And only because the city was asleep and she couldn't be caught did Elain let herself think about her dream once more. She had stopped counting how often she awoke in the darkness, wishing to be close to him. Most of the time, the dreams were like this: slow and passionate, feeling too real. Like he was right here, behind her, worshipping her. She could almost smell him, taste him on her lips. She opened her eyes to stop the pain threatening to squeeze her heart until only tears could help her get rid of it. 

Sometimes Elain woke because he touched her pointed ears and that was not something she could even accustom herself to in her dreams. Sometimes it was because she peaked, twisting in her sheets and waking up satisfied and yet yearning for more. She wondered how that was possible when she could not remember how his touch felt on her skin. Other times, it did not get that far. It was words that drew her from her subconscious. 

Lucien wasn’t in Velaris. But she knew he was on his way back to the Night Court, to report on whatever it was exactly that he was doing out there for Feyre and Rhysand. She prohibited herself from caring every time someone uttered his name in her presence and hated her body for not complying. Elain wondered if on the mornings that followed nights like these, when she couldn’t go back to sleep and waited for the sunrise – she wondered if Feyre noticed. If that was why her sister studied Elain with a wariness that followed her through the rest of the day. But her sister never said a word.

Feyre likely suspected Elain would shut down the conversation, never admitting to anything. And how could her sister, with her perfect baby, and perfect mate, who she had accept with love in her heart, ever understand? How could anyone? Nesta once could, but Nesta loved Cassian. Nesta had friends and a purpose. She had a home. 

Elain had that once, too. With Graysen. She almost did, anyway. 

She sighed, sliding to the floor and letting her chin rest on her knees. It would be a long night as she longed for the day.

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

He was here, she realized. 

In the townhouse.

It was barely dawn. 

His heart beat loudly in his chest and his scent – like a summer morning brightening the day – filled up the air. Elain couldn’t breathe as all of her senses focused on him – an instinct she wasn’t sure how to work against. She hadn’t actively decided to leave her room, yet here she was. He noticed her a few seconds later, looking up the staircase with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth. 

He was so beautiful, she thought. It was unfair. 

“My lady,” he said. 

Those were his first words after months of utter silence. She wondered if his being here meant he had freed the firebird and was back in Prythian for good. “I didn’t realize you were here.” 

Elain furrowed her brow. “I live here now,” she replied and hated how quiet and unsure she sounded.

“I assumed you would be with Feyre and Rhys –”

“I thought it would be best to give them privacy. As a young family.” 

Her heartbeat matched his. Could he still not hear it? 

He was silent. She thought it was the most they had spoken in ages. His eyes scanned her from top to bottom as she gripped the ornate railing. As she squeezed it like she might bend it underneath her frail hands. 

“You look well,” he said then, a hint of a polite smile on his lips. She swallowed and Elain did not think it could be more awkward. “I’m sorry for disturbing you in your home. I figured I would recommend the townhouse to meet with Feyre not to … barge in on you, and she didn’t mention anything about you being here. I am here for business.”

“Business,” she said slowly, frowning. Of course, Feyre hadn’t said anything to him.

But before she could say anything else, the door opened and Feyre rushed in. Elain stiffened while Lucien seemed to relax. 

She suspected he hated being here. She didn’t let herself think of what else he might have hated.

Feyre lit up as she hugged him. “Lucien, I didn’t realize you were here this early!” She glanced up at Elain and cringed slightly. Elain said nothing. Feyre likely had planned on warning her. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replied softly.

And Elain didn’t hear what Feyre said next as everything grew louder in her head. Like water rushing right above her and into those sensitive ears. The duo moved to the parlour and Elain found herself following them slowly. 

The door wasn’t closed, so she supposed she was welcome, especially when Lucien didn’t tear his eyes away from her as she entered the room and found herself by the window. The sun was hidden behind dark clouds. 

The weather seemed to match the mood of her mate. 

He seemed to have anticipated the arrival of Rhys and his brother and still, his mood worsened. He may have moved slightly closer to her. 

“Am I interrupting?” Eris said, grinning widely at Elain, who, in turn, frowned at him. She didn’t know what to think of the redhead. Something about him unsettled her. He looked so different from Lucien. His nose was sharper, his skin paler, and his eyes seemed to take in everyone in the room at the same time – as if he was used to paying attention to every single person in his vicinity. Like he didn’t trust anyone here. Elain could hardly fault him for that. 

“Be quick about it, Eris,” Lucien hissed and Elain watched Rhys step behind Feyre, kissing her on her cheek. Her stomach tightened painfully. 

“Oh, brother, how have I missed you, too,” Eris snickered. He took a seat in the armchair closest to the fireplace. “Does your firebird miss you already?”

Elain froze at his question, well aware that everyone’s eyes were on her. The room was shrinking and every little noise, the fly on the windowsill, the birds chirping outside, Eris’s breathing, was getting louder and louder and louder. She wanted to cry and she didn’t know why. 

She still remembered how difficult moments like this had been in those first few months. After she had surfaced, scared and shaking, and Lucien had made his way to her. When she had arrived at the Night Court, Feyre gone, Nesta blazing, and everything had been too much, too loud, pungent. It had been Lucien, surprisingly, who understood and offered the advice she desperately needed. She had clung to the windows of the house, praying for peace and quiet, praying for her old life to come back to her. 

“Close your eyes when it gets too overwhelming in this new body,” he had said. She had blinked in response and looked at him. His brutally beautiful face had looked like he understood. She hadn’t seen how. “Make sure to breathe in deeply, and I mean, deeply. Down to your navel. Then hold it, and breathe out slowly. Close your eyes and block out the noise by focusing on one thing. Be it a bird chirping or footsteps outside.”

She hadn’t replied, and Lucien had stood, bowing, to leave again. This, Elain, had to admit, had helped more than the healer’s poking and touching. She didn’t have to tell him that it was the sound of his heartbeat, or the memory thereof, that she often used to calm herself down. Even now, with so much time having passed. She didn’t know why these Fae senses were taking so long for her to get used to. 

Now, her ears focused on the steady, yet agitated beat of his heart. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. 

The noises disappeared as she continued to breathe deeply. She looked at Eris, surprised to see his eyes observing her, not his brother.

“The firebird,” Lucien spat, “is still a firebird and unless you have helpful information for breaking her curse, I suggest you tell us what you came here for, brother.” 

Rhys chuckled and sat with Feyre on the couch, obviously trying to calm the flared tempers. He looked suspiciously at ease, but maybe that belonged to the artful skillset of a High Lord. 

Her sister rolled her eyes. “We’re not here to discuss Vassa, Eris.”

Lucien ran his fingers through his hair, clenching his jaw and Elain couldn’t help but look back at Lucien, but he was staring at Eris.

“I am here to discuss my father’s death.” 

Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Then – 

“You mean you are here to discuss treason,” Feyre said quietly as Lucien remained silent. 

But Elain could hear him clear and loud. He did not want to be in this room. She saw flashes of blood on a dark floor, she saw a red forest and a head on the ground. A thin, red-haired woman crying in a beautifully decorated parlor. 

“Treason,” Eris grunted. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“We told you, we cannot get involved,” Rhys said slowly. But he leaned forward like he had had the thought, too. Lucien noticed and clenched his fists. 

Elain’s heart ached, and she hated herself for following him into this room. Hated herself for getting herself into this mess and to witness him like this – agitated and internally pacing. Did he want to return to his home? Did he miss the sight of those colourful trees? 

“Mother would like to see you again,” Eris simply said. 

“He will kill me on sight,” Lucien’s voice was quiet and emotionless. Somehow Elain knew what her mate’s brother would say next. Feyre did, too, as she straightened her back and looked at Eris with narrow eyes. 

“Not if you bring your mate – both of you protected by the Night Court and her being Feyre Cursebreaker’s sister, he would not dare.” 

Silence.

“You have lost your mind,” Feyre said at the same time as Lucien snarled, “Over my dead body.” 

Eris wanted her to be a distraction. To be a piece in his chess game as he played his way to the position of a High Lord. Rhys was silent, but Elain’s irritation with Eris grew. He knew, she realized, when to press which buttons. Her brother-in-law understood too, what Elain had learned in this moment. 

Feyre was watching her with worried eyes and Elain felt a darkness brush against her mind, but she recoiled from it. She barely could form any coherent thought and did not want to have Feyre invade the chaos inside of her.

“Elain.” Lucien’s voice was gentle and she looked at him, his golden eye whirring frantically. He looked ill while Eris seemed to be enjoying his moment. Elain clenched her fist and faced Eris.

“You cannot decide to use me and expect me to oblige. You cannot drag Lucien into this simply because it is convenient for you. This is your mess.” She was oddly proud of herself for saying those words without shaking. The anger, a burning flame ignited in her heart, made sure of that. Rhys smiled. As did Eris.

“Maybe it is. But surely you and Lucien have a desire to see him gone. After all, you are a princess of the Autumn Court now.” 

Lucien’s eyes turned cold, perhaps for the first time in his life. “Elain is a free female. The Autumn Court is nothing to her. As it is to me. We are not going to help you commit treason. I will not risk her life like that.” His words were clipped. Elain didn’t understand why Rhys and Feyre stayed silent. 

“What of mother?”

Lucien narrowed his eyes. “What of mother?”

“You know I will do it either way. With or without the Night Court’s help. I understand their … reluctance to assist me. Despite my continued assistance over these last months.” Feyre rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything, Eris continued, “I will do it and should I fail, what do you think becomes of our mother?” He looked at Lucien and Elain swore she saw a flicker of vulnerability show on his face. Perhaps another form of manipulation. Her heart ached nonetheless.

“He will punish her,” Eris added and looked at Elain. “If they won’t help me save my mother, you certainly could, Elain. I will forever be in your debt.” 

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Lucien turned livid and tried very hard to restrain himself and not tackle Eris off the armchair. His brother was holding on to the armrest as if he was aware of that. Elain didn’t hear what Feyre and Rhys were saying, but their anger was palpable. 

Elain knew, she knew, that Eris was a mastermind, but she believed him. She believed that he wanted nothing more than to see his mother in safety. Elain didn’t know their father, but given Lucien’s hatred for the Autumn Court, she could only guess what evil he was responsible for. She again saw puddles of blood on the floor. Did blood stain marble? 

It irritated her that Eris used her to force Lucien to play by his rules. He clearly did not want to step a foot inside his home again, but everyone in this townhouse knew that if Elain went, Lucien would follow. Perhaps that was why she said, faintly but clearly enough for everyone to hear, “Fine.” 

“I will go but not for you,” she said looking at Eris with a frown, then back at Lucien. His face had paled. Elain didn’t really know where it came from, she had certainly not expected the day to go like this. Seeing Lucien, seeing his brother, and saying things she never would have expected herself to even think. “I will go for your mother. No one should be left at risk.” 

#elucien #elucien fic #maria writes

[acourtofthought]

@lucienarcheron is doing a reread of ACOTAR (loving your updates by the way) and something stood out to me so I looked at the other books in the series:

Lucien’s red hair shone in the firelight, the colors flickering with every movement he made, and the jewels in the hilt of his sword glinted—the ornate blade so unlike the baldric of knives still strapped across Tamlin’s chest. But there was no one here to use a sword against. And while the sword was embedded with jewels and filigree, it was large enough to be more than decoration.

Lucien had two, as well as an elegant short sword.

He reached for something at his side and tossed it to me. I had to fight to stay in the saddle as I fumbled for it—a jeweled hunting knife. “I heard you scream,” he said as I examined the blade in my hands. I’d never held one so finely crafted, so perfectly balanced.

adorned only with the jeweled knife and belt that Lucien had once gifted me. A lifetime ago. / I scrounged up the jeweled, dark belt from an armoire drawer and slung it low over my hips.

here was the High Lord who had impaled Amarantha on Lucien’s sword

What is up with Lucien and his weapons? There are a few mentions of how they're jeweled, ornate or elegant (different than weapons the others seem to use) and SJM made it a point to remind us in ACOWAR that it was with Lucien's sword that Tamlin killed Amarantha.

Is there going to be some importance attached to them? Do they hold power? Is there something to Amarantha being killed with Lucien's blade? Or is it only a reminder of how Lucien does everything with style?

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #lucien spell cleaver #acotar theory

[animezinglife]

The Song of Spring

With party preparations underway, Elain and Lucien spend a quiet moment together in Spring.

Genre: Romance/Fluff with a fairytale vibe. Post-canon Elucien ficlet with a sprinkle of Spring healing. As always, special thanks to @lucienarcheron, @zenkindoflove, @crazy-ache, and all of you who continue to make the Elucien sphere of the internet such a fun, welcoming place. I hope this brings a smile to your face as we move into the weekend. Elucien Masterlist | AO3

Elain wasn’t sure how much time she’d spent working on the florals for the party. Lucien had assured her the amount of work she’d taken over where the blooms were concerned wasn’t necessary, but she had insisted, leaving him to a knowing smirk and a graceful bow while she arranged bursts of color here and there; helped the servants who’d been hired create canopies of vibrant green. The party wouldn’t begin for another few hours, but she knew the magic that graced these blooms would keep them vibrant and fresh for weeks to come if the High Lord of Spring so chose.

This would be the first party–not a full-fledged ball, as she’d reminded herself multiple times–in Spring in several years, and would serve as an opportunity to celebrate its rebirth. It had been awkward, Elain had noticed, between her mate and Tamlin–she’d only ever heard the stories that Feyre and Lucien had told her of their time in Spring, and it wasn’t missed on her how closely Lucien watched her in the High Lord's presence.

How this was the only court other than Autumn where he didn’t seem fully comfortable with the idea of her wandering off on her own. 

Though he hadn’t protested when she’d needed her space; a quiet morning of walking along through the gardens to process her thoughts. Tamlin had managed to secure some guards from Spring again, and she’d greeted them as she’d passed, noting the mix of Lesser and High Fae and the unusual, striking features of the former. It had been those morning walks through the gardens that had inspired the idea for the party, and she’d consulted Lucien on whether he’d thought it feasible.

“It could be a start,” he’d said carefully, though his eyes had warmed instantly at the enthusiasm with which she’d shared her idea. “A small party to build back morale within the court.”

He’d stood at her side while she’d presented the idea to Tamlin, and Elain hadn’t missed the warm surge of pride he’d sent down the bond to her or the small hint of a smile the High Lord of Spring had given her in response to the idea before voicing his approval. He’d offered his personal funds to cover it, but Elain hadn’t needed nearly the amount he’d offered: the flowers in the gardens were coming back in full force, and most of what they needed could be found around the estate.

She’d always liked the challenge of creating something beautiful with her own hands.

She’d felt Lucien’s eyes on her multiple times as she’d rallied a few of the servants and other Spring citizens she’d befriended during their previous emissary visits; felt the smile that played at his lips follow her as the inside of Tamlin’s manor had buzzed with life. Tables were moved to make room on the dance floor and support food and refreshments. Space was made for musicians–one of which she hoped would be the High Lord himself, after she’d learned of his fiddle playing and presented the idea–and decorated in flowers and natural splendor that made it feel like something from one of the romantic tales she’d read as a child.

Now the place had fallen quiet again, this time in anticipation as the servants had hurried home or back to their quarters to prepare for the festivities. The windows had been opened and would remain that way, the peaceful sound of birdsong and fountains from the gardens trickling through the halls. Tamlin himself was nowhere to be seen, and Elain stepped back in the hall, unable to refrain from admiring her handiwork and the vision she and the fae of Spring had brought to life. She rested her hands on her skirts, envisioning the place as it would become in a few hours’ time. She imagined the tunes that would play: a mix of classic dances and upbeat jigs from the Spring Court. Instinctively, she began to sway at the sound of a slow waltz that echoed through her memory–one she remembered well from the human lands, and one of the first dances she’d shared with her mate.

Elain felt his strong hand on her waist as she moved into a turn, a smile crossing her face as she easily fell into his lead. Settled into his strong frame and easy, elegant lead.

Lucien was, after all, every bit a High Lord’s son. She’d had yet to find a dance that he wasn’t adept in, an aspect of any court’s unique culture he wasn’t knowledgeable about. Even though no music played, he seemed to fall easily into a slow, graceful rhythm with her.

Warmth flooded through her and flickered to her cheeks as she met his gaze, his mismatched eyes seeming to take every detail of her in. Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, she followed that easy lead, flowing into a turn as he lifted her hand overhead and falling back into his gentle embrace again. 

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he murmured, and though his eyes remained on her, she knew he referred to the transformation of the room around them. 

“It’s high time they had a proper party,” she said, tracing her thumb over the side of his where their hands met in their hold. 

“It’s time they had something worth celebrating again,” he added gently, fingers pressing lightly into her back as they swayed together in soft, slow steps of three. She responded, closing some distance between them at his touch. It was hardly considered proper–certainly would not have been for a waltz in the human realm, but her elbow curved around his arm and her hand pressed lightly against his strong back while his hand lowered to the small of hers. They did not cease their dance, and she breathed him in, the familiar blend of embers, earth, and cinnamon settling into her as easily as her own pulse. 

He had become a home to her in ways she never thought possible: had always been in tune with her in ways she never would’ve imagined as a human, or even as High Fae before she’d been brave enough to know him. Lucien had become her dearest friend; her confidante, and her comfort. Yet he’d broadened her world and made her braver, too–letting her choose the life she wanted and giving her unyielding support when she faced her doubts.

They never pressed each other, instead falling into each other’s trust and confidence completely and at their own pace.

Elain laughed as she felt his hand shift and he dipped her, letting her head and hair fall back over the dance floor and snaking both arms around him as he pulled her close again. The bond hummed between them as she pulled herself against his powerful frame.

Feeling safe, free, and both utterly and hopelessly in love. The caress he sent down the bond responded in kind, telling her he felt every bit the same.

She felt him brush a kiss against her hair as she placed one against his chest directly over his heart. That strong, steady heartbeat had been her constant companion for years, even when she’d lingered in Velaris and heard its echo and pulse through the stone. It had terrified her; overwhelmed her completely in the way it had intertwined and beat in sync with her own. The way the bond was a constant presence between them and pulled both her mind and body towards him. She’d had no doubt that it had been the same for Lucien, too. 

Elain had resisted for so long–rejected the idea of the bond no matter how deeply it wove itself into her. And yet, when she’d finally had enough and taken that first step–a mere attempt to accept not the bond itself, but that Lucien might be a good male and even a friend–she’d known. She thought perhaps a part of her had always known that if she allowed herself to take that chance, she would learn that Lucien was kind.

That he was strong and loyal and good in all the ways Feyre had talked about, and others her sister had never even known herself.

She had never been so naive to assume he might fall in love with her, too. Though she had never missed the longing in his eyes, his careful attention to her and gentle, unwavering respect. His occasional quips that had her fighting back a smirk or a laugh. His own past had worn on her every bit as much as the future she’d always thought she lost: the idea she'd held that she could never amount to the love he’d felt for someone else, or the guilt that had plagued him in the years that followed.

Yet here they were now, wrapped in each other alone in a ballroom that was nothing short of romantic. She ran her fingers through a strand of his silky, red hair, light catching the jewel on the ring she wore on her fourth finger that was a perfect, delicate companion to his. Their swaying slowed, as if everything she felt–all she thought–were flooding into him as well. 

Her friend. 

Her husband. 

Her mate. 

She pulled back from him only slightly to meet his gaze, and seeing both the confirmation and softness there, let his hair fall back over his shoulder. She rested her hand on the side of his face as he covered it with his own, and standing on her tiptoes, pressed a long, lingering kiss to his lips. He matched it knowingly, his mouth gentle, coaxing, and sending both her bond and body ablaze with warmth and peace. He brushed the corner of her lips once more before they separated.

A long, lone note in the distance echoed through the hallway then, stretching into the silence before finally being followed by another.

And another.

Then another.

The twinkle in Lucien’s eyes answered her question before she even voiced it as the faint trace of a fiddle sounded out, its song cautiously moving up and down in a scale as she’d often heard when musicians warmed up. 

She smiled slightly and rested her head against his chest as they held each other, thankful for where they were and all they had become.

#elucien #elucien fics #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #wyseinkworks #the song of spring #tamlin #elucien ficlet #spring court #the spring court

[christopherherondale]

feysand and the 💅🏼 emoji remind me of you HAHA 😌💅🏼

My work here is done 🥂💅🏻

tell me something that reminds you of me, anonymously or not!

#🩷🩷🩷 #lucienarcheron #answered