#tw: elriel

[achaotichuman]

The Mother's Least Favourite Son

Out of spite, I have written this. Hope you guys like broken mating bond Lucien angst.

@lorcanisdabest here is the Lucien angst you oh so wanted~

Trigger warning- Suicide.

Lucien stumbled through the dark. Tripping over something thrown carelessly across the cobblestone ground, an arm shot out to grab the nearest wall to stabilise himself. Skin scraping against the cold wet stone, it burned as it pulled away, blood beginning to prick the surface. 

Why? 

Why did it have to-

He lurched forward, and a crate at his feet caused him to fall to the ground. Dirty water splashed across his face, ruining his formerly perfect clothing. His trousers now wet and stained. His pristine Night black jacket now half covered with mud. 

Fuck-

It lurched in his chest again. Screaming like a torture victim locked in a cage. Bleeding from the inside.

Golden threads that were cut and exposed like raw nerves. His heart beat faster than it ever had in his life. His hair fell around his face. Rain dripped down from above, beginning to race faster and faster to the surface of the earth, until it hurtled down upon him. 

The stars were no longer visible. The alleyway, and the darkness it provided was his only comfort or protection. 

A sob ripped from deep within the back of his throat. Each pitter of rain that fell upon him he felt starkly. Like needles were pouring down on him. 

Why?

What did he do wrong?

Fuck-

He asked for an answer, did he not?

He wanted to know what she wanted. 

Break it, or accept it. 

He offered his heart on a platter. 

Like his heart would ever be enough. 

He fell back against the wall behind him. Eyes tilted to the sky. 

What the fuck did he do to deserve this?

The sky held no answers, nothing spoke back to him. As his skin burned, flesh bubbling under the surface. 

The thunderclouds rolling in the sky tormented him. Laughing as it was split with lightning. Turning the sky to flashing works of silver. Velaris was laughing around him. The Court his mate belonged to pointed and ridiculed the outcast that thought it could crawl in and find comfort. 

No home Court. No mate. 

The Mother’s least favourite son. The Cauldron’s hated creation. 

Her eyes had held no remorse. No care. She hadn’t even put down her knife, as she cut vegetables on the wooden board. She looked up to him. Those soft brown iris had never looked harder. 

“Please, just an answer.”

The Inner Circle stood around him. Feyre flanking Elain’s left, and Nesta on her right. Rhysand picked a piece of lint from his jacket, eyes laughing even as his mouth was firmly straight. Cassian however looked fully and utterly amused at the situation. Azriel stood behind Elain, eyes dead on Lucien. Waiting like a trap to be sprung. 

“Then here’s your answer.” Elain whispered into the space between them. 

Then it broke. 

And Lucien screamed. 

Cassian practically dragged him out. His legs unable to hold him up for long periods of time. They let him fall to the ground. Rain starting. There was no sympathy in his eyes, not even a hint of pity. Just laughing amusement as the door slammed shut. 

Even from out there, in the cold of the night with the door separating the Fox from the inside, he could hear the cheering and the celebrations.

Chest heaving, skin too tight, fire burning and burning and burning. 

Through a window he saw the form of Azriel, shadowsinger, wrap his arms around his rejected mate. 

Lucien had run. 

Run and fell across the floor, scraping his arms before he ran again. 

Another wretched cry was torn from his throat, as he screamed to the sky, “Why? Why fucking me?”

What did I do wrong?

Hated son. 

Exiled. Outcasted. 

Were mates not supposed to love each other more than sun or moonlight? 

Were they not supposed to rather give themselves up then each other?

Where were the stories? Where were the tales? Why did he not get that?

Fucking why?

The cold rain dripped from strands of his hair, down his face, and disappeared down his neck. His body began to shiver, wishing, begging, to draw up fire to warm himself. He let his body shudder and quake, barely feeling the cold pressing in under the weight of the bond now floating out in nothing. 

Darkness edged in, spreading from some place in his chest through the rest of his body. Until he felt hollow, unseeing. Lucien could barely hear anything at all. 

A sharp pain shot through his side, and he looked up to see a male with green hair and purple skin. Wide eyes, all black, glaring down at him. 

“Beat it kid, no loitering around here.” He snarled. 

“Sorry, I’m, I’m sorry.” Lucien said quickly, voice quivering. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” The male said, as Lucien got to his stumbling feet. As the Fox made for the mouth of the alleyway, he heard him mutter, “Stupid kids.”

Stupid kid. 

Stupid kid indeed. 

Lucien left the alleyway. The rain pounded down harder, the thrum resembled the beating of drums. Lightning forked, and thunder cracked the sky. A familiar song, a dance that had followed him since the day Jesminda had been slaughtered in front of him. 

He had spent his days running from the song. The beating that would never cease, howling through the night, hurtling towards him. 

Death did not come silently. 

It came with war horns, riding into battle like screaming a cry. Music played in its wake. A tune no one had heard but everyone knew. 

Lucien closed his eyes, as his heart fell into sync with the beat. His voice a gentle hum as thunder whipped again. As that song raised its tune. 

He stuck his hands in his pockets. He looked ahead. And he winnowed. 

The view of Velaris gave way to dark foliage. Oranges and reds covered one side of the earth, and the other was filled with spidering dark greens and untrained brambles. 

The border of Spring and Autumn. 

The rain had not stopped. The storm had spread through Prythian as if waiting for him. 

It poured down upon him, until he was practically drowning on land. The ground of Autumn was practically unrecognisable as such, as the dried leaves were turned to muddy decay by the rain. 

Lucien fell back and stared up at the sky. 

A familiar tune. 

It had been waiting for him. 

The Mother’s least favourite son. 

He closed his eyes. 

He hoped he wouldn’t ever open them again. 

***

Three years passed and it never got better. 

It got worse. 

So, so much worse. 

Waking up and seeing the ceiling was agony. Most days he stopped bothering trying to get out of bed. Eating had become a rare occasion, so much so that Jurian and Vassa couldn’t hide their excitement when he took so much as a half bite out of his food. 

He didn’t know if Prythian remembered him; he hadn’t set foot in any of the Courts since the day Tamlin found him at the border. That was at least what he was told when he woke up. Something about the rotting High lord bringing him to the Band of Exile’s manor before disappearing back to Spring. 

Lucien didn’t care. All his thoughts were drowned out by mate, mate, mate, mate. 

He couldn’t think of anyone, of anything else, other than her brown eyes, and curls, and red stained cheeks and lips.

There was nothing else to him, nothing anymore. 

He stopped hoping she would return to him. As the darkness, the hollowness caved in. Pillars of marble in his mind turning to dust, whatever he used to know becoming nothing in the face of the broken bond. 

The last time he spoke, he didn’t know. The last time he went outside, he didn’t know. 

His skin was pasty, grey. His eyes deep with purple. Every bone on display, with his prosthetic eye sinking back into his socket, falling back from the shift in weight. 

His body was decaying. 

He stared at the ceiling. 

It wasn’t worth it. 

This would go on. 

And on.

And on, and on, and on. 

Prythian had forgotten him. His mate had rejected him. His last two friends, the last he could consider friends, were tied up with each other. 

He wasn’t worth his mate’s love. He wasn’t worth being remembered. 

“Might as well get it over with.” Lucien whispered to the ceiling, the first words he had vocalised in so long. 

For the first time in what may have been a week or more, he dragged himself from the bed he had practically become attached to. Limbs heavy, eyes fluttering, pain struck him from all sides and he wanted to fall back down and rot. 

But Jurian or Vassa would eventually convince him to a meal or something to keep him going if he stayed on the bed. 

So he walked. 

He walked to a dresser, where beside it laid a bag. It had all sort of provisions and things needed should he have been stranded somewhere in Prythian. He kept it packed ever since he was thrown out of Autumn. 

Mother’s least favourite son. Cauldron’s hated creation. 

Inside one of the back pockets was a long spiral of coarse rope. Rough against his weary hands as he pulled it out, a sudden disruption to the soft sheets Lucien was used to holding these days. 

Mother’s least favourite son. Cauldron’s hated creation. 

The curtain rod was sturdy and could hold a fair amount of weight, not that it mattered very much as he was practically just skin and bones. It took little to stand atop a chair by the window and put the rope over the rod. Part of Lucien wished Eris had never taught him to tie knots, if only so he didn’t know what to do now. 

Mother’s least favourite son. Cauldron’s hated creation. 

It was rough around his neck. He felt nothing. He didn’t want to feel anything. 

It was sunny outside. The flowers were in bloom. He saw Elain in the sunshine. In the flowers below him. He saw home in the ground, in the trees in the distance. He remembered the feelings of Autumn leaves under his hands. And he remembered the smell of pollen from Spring. He remembered the chill of Night’s air. 

He remembered her soft skin when he put his jackets over her arms after she came out of the Cauldron. 

Lucien let go of all memory as he let himself swing from the curtain rod. 

He hoped he wouldn’t remember in the Mother’s land of milk and honey. 

Mother’s least favourite son. 

Cauldron’s hated creation. 

#acotar #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra deserves better #elucien #elain archeron #elriel but not graphically described #tw elriel #acotar au #acotar headcannons

[fuckmelifesucks]

Azriel was okay with watching mor fuck other people and doing the same. But the mere thought of fucking someone who is not Elain has him fuming. He can't even stand the sight and smell of elain's bond with Lucien.

He could still be in the same room as mor after she was freshly fucked. But he had to go stand near the door for an easy escape if need be just cuz he physically couldn't stand to be around elucien bond for long.

So no. He is no longer in love with mor and won't go back to her in a heart beat if she showed even an ounce of interest.

He is down bad for Elain. Mor is not even a thought in his head.

#he's at least got that much dignity #tw: language #no hate to mor of colours #love her #elriel #elain archeron #acotar #pro elain #pro elain archeron #pro elriel #elain #azriel #elain x azriel #acosf #anti moriel

[feyredarlinq]

Acotar fandom be like I can excuse drawing weird BDSM fetish art portraying Elain as a gagged pet on a leash with her owner using a whip just for funzies despite him being partially responsible for the most traumatic day of her life and the depression that followed, her explicitly saying that she doesn’t want him and shrinking into herself and losing her boldness when he’s around, because “they’re not real people”, but two fictional consenting adults being attracted to each other is gross;

I can also romanticize Gwyn’s SA and headcanon Gwynriel getting married in the place she got r*ped and wonder if she kept Azriel’s cloak (adorable!) and make cute NSFW Tik Toks imagining Gwyn comparing her r*pists soft and unblemished hands to Azriel’s scarred ones and how she’s gonna feel the difference while they’re having kinky sex in the library but Elriel’s four books of building up a genuine friendship, mutual trust and attraction is toxic and Azriel needs tHeRaPy

#elriel #anti e/ucien #anti gwynr/el #how about yall joing azriel in those therapy sessions huh #gwyn is gonna be there too because SHE CAN FIX HIM <3 <3 #tw: sa mention

[rosenecklaces]

The way the ones who are part of that idea are like "but-but we included elriel last year 🥺 we just want to bring peace to the fandom and include all, you elriels can tag the ship in it if you want" like please shut up I beg fake elain and azriel stans to be honest with themselves and everyone else, stop the bullshit, you ain't fooling anyone let alone us

Shake hands and kiss the cheeks of people that doesn't give a fuck about both characters, whatever you do you, but then don't come and act as a poor victim when is easy to tell when someone prefers to please the insane bullies that are gleeriels and feed into the lies of the deluciens.

Gwynriels aren't people, they are problematic since day one they created that stupid crackship because a girl that literally was SAd and still can't be alone with men, was saved by a guy with decency (that let me remind you, it was created by pure misogynistic hatred and fear of elain as potential lover of azriel when acosf was just published) they had been giving lies and misinformation to even non-englishs peakers specially to them, they had doxed anti gwynriels until big online elriel/elain stans pages just went offline, they had harassed people and wishing the worst to elain to the point they even show their faces in ticktok talking about how bad it is for a woman to not give children since it makes her unworthy of the man she likes; they had been inventing bullshit from her being evil to she dying at her sisters hands. They even put their side side character at the center of all and now she's more important than feysand and nessian all together, she is more valuable than emerie, emerie, so now she would be the white savior of all illyrians including azriel, who now is a dangerous and toxic brute but not to her! Not at her ginger magic! Because God forbid a brown grown man wants to have sex with a woman he likes and is taking all the risks for in canon...

#rant #petty rant. mostly #i just can't with their shit man #im fucking tired #rn im really fucking tired of what is and isn't accepted in part of this messed up fanbase #fuck gwynriel and all those who like it fr yall disgusting since day one #and anyone who supports and tolerate and accept gwynriels bullshit go fuck yourself too #big part of why the misogyny and white feminism in this fandom has gotten so big is part of their fault. end of #acotar rant #booo gwynriel i hate your pussyyy #booo elucien/lucien i hate your pusssyyyyy #tw sa mention #elriel

[thelov3lybookworm]

To Love and Cakes

Summary: Y/n is the daughter of a flower and gardening tools shop's owner in Velaris. When he gets sick, y/n makes her father take some rest and looks after the small shop herself. But she is new to all this as her father never let her work a day in her life.

One day, as she's looking after the shop, a red haired high fae comes looking for gardening gloves as a gift to someone. Y/n helps him, and learns that he is a frequent customer.

Due to his frequent visits, they soon develop a bond. More than friends, but not lovers.

Yet.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: i dont think there are any but still, here we go. elain being a sour and jealous mate even though she's been sailing on the elriel ship, a few curse words and all. Can't think of anything else, so let me know if i need to add anything.

A/n: this thing has been in my draft for faxing months. This is, to me, the best work of mine. This is my baby. I LOVED writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it.

(ps. even if youre not a lucien girlie, try reading it. i have a secret agenda to make every one of you creatures a lucien simp, just like im trying to make @artists-ally a lucien simp)

(also, the scene towards the end where reader is dancing was inspired by one of the fbaa books, if it seemed familiar or you were wondering)

t'is a long one children, Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

As Y/n finished walking around the store, cleaning, she thought back to the morning two days ago.

She had just woken up and was walking towards her father's kitchen for breakfast when she heard it. A cough. She quickened her pace, entering the kitchen to find her father bent over, his body heaving from the coughs.

She rushed to him, helping him to the nearest chair. When she bought him some water, he smiled up at her gratefully.

"How many times do I have to tell you to take some rest, father? Why won't you let me help you?"

"I might be getting old, but not that old that I need to rely on my daughter to help me earn. Unless you are trying to steal my shop?"

"Father!" She said, exasperated, even though she knew he was just saying that to irritate her. "You are staying home till you get better. I'll take care of the shop."

"But you don't know anything about it." At the glare she gave him, he finally conceded. "Let me help for today atleast. Show you how to handle it. I promise I'll rest."

She had come to visit and stay with her father for some days, having just quit her previous job, searching for a new one. They were well off, the house that Y/n lived in owned by her. She had wanted to see if her father needed any help around. Which he didn't. He wasn't very old and ill by any means, he just didn't know when to stop. That's why she had already made her father agree to closing the store earlier and taking the weekends off.

As Y/n put away the cleaning equipment in the back of the store, the bell above the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. As she hurried to the front desk, she caught a glimpse of the beautiful male that was waiting from behind a shelf.

He had dark crimson hair cascading over his shoulder that looked like fire, with one russet eye and one that was a golden metal one, which was whirring. A scar marred the skin surrounding that eye and trailed to his jaw.

Y/n quickly averted her gaze when she realised she was staring. He hadn't yet noticed her though, looking around the shop. She stepped out from behind the shelf and cleared her throat.

He turned to her at once, giving her a warm smile.

"Hello. How can I help you today?" She asked with a small smile.

"I'm looking for enchanted gardening gloves."

She wracked her brain for the location of said gloves before perking up. "Right this way." As she led the way, he followed a respectful distance away. To fill the silence, she spoke up. "Are you from Night Court? You don't seem like you're from here."

"Yes. I'm from... Autumn Court." His hesitation was evident, and Y/n didn't push.

"Here we are." She said, stopping in front of the gloves stacked neatly on a shelf. She left him alone when he nodded.

She began sorting out her desk, her father's, really, which was near the entrance to the shop.

By the time she finished, the male was done with his browsing and bought out the gloves to the desk to pay for them. The whole ordeal went silently and quickly. With a word of thanks and a 'good day', he was on his way.

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

He stared at her. His mate.

He wondered if, under other circumstances, she would have not despised him. Could she have ever loved him the way others loved their mates? Would the two of them be together if there was no cruelty in this world?

He answered those himself.

The first one? Probably.

The second one? Maybe.

The third one? No.

Because, if there was no cruelty in this world, his love, one his father had killed, would not be dead. Jesminda would be alive still. And if she was alive, he wouldn't care for anything, even his own mate.

And maybe that made him an asshole, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he stared at Elain smiling at the Shadowsinger from the corner of the room, nursing a glass of whiskey.

He looked around the room, his eyes landing on the gift he'd bought for her. It was enchanted gardening gloves so her hands wouldn't get cut. Of course, the present had been discarded in a corner, unopened. It wasn't as if she didn't notice the gift. No, he had seen her look at it before placing it aside from her other gifts.

He'd seen her do that, and his heart had been pierced by an arrow. At least it felt like it.

As he stared at the gift, his mind drifted to the shop where he had bought it from. The shop run by the female. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. She hadn't even said much, but she had simply caught his attention.

He blinked when a loud laugh interrupted his thoughts, looking at the inner circle sitting in the center of the room and having the time of their lives, while he sat in the darkest corner he could find. He knew he didn't fit in here, and that most of them didnt trust or like him.

He didn't know why he had accepted Feyre's invitation to stay for the night when he knew he'd be miserable.

He had thought that maybe, just maybe, they would include him in their fun. At least for one night.

He felt so dumb now.

After a little bit of contemplation, he decided it best if he left. No one was going to miss him anyways.

Quietly, he downed the whiskey in his glass, then rolled onto his feet. He set the glass on a nearby table, then turned towards the door. He walked towards it, his boots making no noise.

As he exited the room, there was no sign of the festivities slowing down. None. He removed his coat from the nearby hook, donning it as he stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him.

It wasn't until Lucien was out of the house that the sounds faltered for a brief moment, but then the laughter started back again, and Lucien sighed, his breath misting in front of him. He stared at the little cloud of fog in front of his face.

He didn't want to go home– if it could even be called that– not yet. The night was still young. Maybe he would go on a little walk around Velaris before he returned to the mortal lands.

He started the trek across the city, walking slowly, letting his mind wander, his eyes seeing everything but taking nothing in. It was like a waste of time, looking at the beauty but not caring enough to appreciate it.

He sighed, making his way through the vibrant market place. The children running around the place, candies in their hand, adults lingering around the place with their lovers and families truly added to the beauty of the festival.

But Lucien's eyes were unseeing, his heart unfeeling as he avoided the running and giggling children.

Someone slammed into Lucien from somewhere near him, and that finally broke him out of the haze that he'd been in.

He glanced at the fae leaning against him, trying to gain her footing in the crowded area.

"I am so sorry. I got pushed–" The female looked up at him, finally stable on her feet. She cocked her head, a smile spreading on her lips. "Oh. It's you."

He returned the smile, somehow easier than it should have been considering the foul mood he'd been. "It's me. I don't think I caught your name this morning."

The lady from the gardening shop grinned, her cheeks rosy, glowing with happiness. "Y/n."

"Lucien." He mumbled, studying her. She nodded, holding out her hand. He took it.

Then they stood there, awkwardly trying to figure out what to say. "Um... enjoying solstice?"

"Yeah." She returned, a relieved expression on her face. "Just left the house after dinner. My father said he's going out with some friends, so I decided to head out for some desserts. You?"

"Not really..." That was not the right answer, but Lucien was struggling to put on his mask of indifference.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Are you alone?"

He smiled ruefully as he looked away. "Very."

After a moment of silence, the lady spoke up again. "What are your thoughts on some cake? Pie? Or maybe cookies?"

Lucien blinked, then glanced at her. "What?"

She grinned, turning away and gesturing with her hand to follow her. Seeing that he had no other reason to haunt the streets of Velaris, he followed her.

She weaved in and out of the crowd, walking with purpose towards her destination. She stumbled sometimes, due to being pushed around by the crowd, but mostly by herself. She seemed to have a problem walking without tripping.

She tripped again, so bad that Lucien had to catch her elbow to stop her from faceplanting. She grinned up at him sheepishly.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"Are you... drunk?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "I don't drink. It's taste is disgusting."

A small smirk made is way into Lucien's face, but he simply nodded at her to keep going. She continued on.

Soon, she was walking into a brightly lit shop, cakes and various baked goods displayed through the glass.

"This is my favourite place for sweets and baked items. It's really good."

She went to open the door, but Lucien stretched out his hand and held it for her. She blinked at him before smiling and stepping in to the warm interior.

"Hello." She greeted the kind looking old lady behing the counter, who smiled widely.

"How are you today?"

"I'm good. How about yourself?" Y/n replied.

"I'm good, I'm good. Just these joints creaking a little extra nowadays."

Y/n grinned fondly. "Maybe you should just get some rest, you old hag."

"Oh shut it. I will rest once I know I have succeded in convincing you to get a partner. Mother knows how lonely you must be."

"I'm not lonely, you old hag. As long as I have you and father, I will never be alone."

"Yeah yeah whatever." Then the old female seemed to notice Lucien, and her eyes lit up. "Are you finally seeing someone?"

Y/n blinked, then glanced at Lucien. Her lips parted, then a flush climbed up her neck. She furiously shook her head, and the old lady sighed.

"Well, hope I'm not dead when you finally decide to interact with others." The female bustled away as other people walked upto the counter to place their order.

Y/n turned to Lucien, her face red, and she gestured to the display of sweets. He grinned when she turned away again. "Choose what you would like to try. I always go for pineapple, but chocolate is also good."

Lucien dipped his head in a nod when she glanced at him to make sure he understood her, and then the two of them went on to get their cakes.

As they were about to leave the shop, the owner of the shop called to him. "Psst. Hey! You!"

When Lucien glanced up questioningly, the lady Y/n had been talking to motioned at him to come closer. He inched towards the counter behind which the lady stood as Y/n talked to another one of the workers.

"What are your intentions for her?" The lady hissed at Lucien as soon as she was sure no one could hear her.

Lucien blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Don't you dare even think of hurting her. Males have hurt her enough. She is a pure soul, and if you hurt her, then I will carve your eyes out with a spoon. You hear me young man?"

Lucien nodded, dumbfounded. Thank the cauldron though, Y/n decided that moment to walk up to the two of them.

The old lady smiled at her, and then shooed Y/n and Lucien away. Y/n rolled her eyes and led Lucien out of the shop.

She crossed the road and settled onto one of the many benches overlooking the Sidra. She patted the place next to her and he obliged, studying her.

"What were you and the old hag talking about?"

"Nothing..."

Y/n raised a brow but stayed silent as she dug into the treat in her hands.

The two of them sat in silence as they ate, staring at the waters of the Sidra.

Unfortunately, soon enough the two of them were done eating, and Y/n turned to Lucien. She smiled. "Did you like the cake?"

Lucien gave her a smile. A genuine one, one that felt like he hadn't smiled in centuries. He probably hadn't.

"I did. Thank you for making my solstice better."

"I enjoyed the time too, no need to thank me."

And then the two of them parted ways, Lucien thanking her again and her telling him not to worry about it.

Lucien watched her until she had vanished between the crowd, then he turned and decided to walk to secluded place before he winnowed back to human lands.

A soft breeze caressed his face, and he closed his eyes, savoring the cool touch. His mind drifted back to Y/n.

He smiled softly, opening his eyes and leaning his head back, staring at the stars twinkling down at him, as if they were winking.

Maybe... just maybe, not all fae were miserable and hateful.

Maybe there was someone out there, like Y/n, who would not hate him for simply existing.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Y/n only had one thought in her mind, and that was to hurry up.

She had been out in the market, getting the things she needed according to the cooking book she had recently bought.

She had decided to surprise her best friend since childhood with a home baked cake, and hence the rush to get home and start the preparations.

The catch?

Y/n was shit at baking.

The few times she had tried to bake, she had either ended with something that was too hard to even be called a rock, or with something that vaguely resembled... puke.

Even thinking about it sent shivers up Y/n's spine.

But back then she hadn't used a cookbook's instruction, she tried to reason with the sane part of her brain, the one that knew this was a bad idea.

Hurry up-

And she smacked into a wall. A very warm wall.

All her bags slipped from her hands and onto the ground as she stumbled back, barely keeping herself from falling onto her ass.

She lifted her head to apologise to whoever she had crashed onto when her eyes met russet and gold. Lucien.

She paused as she watched him cock his head, a little smile spreading on his features.

"I seem to notice a pattern, Y/n."

She lifted an eyebrow as she bent to gather her stuff. He followed. "What pattern?"

She tried to shoo him off by waving her hands, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. "You are always crashing into me. That sounds like a pattern to me."

She scowled, knowing that if her father or any of her friends saw her, they would yell at her for being disrespectful to someone who was helping her.

He grinned, glancing at her as he stood, most of her bags in his hands.

"Do you need any help carrying these?" He questioned when she climbed to her feet too, and she blinked.

"Oh no, it's alright. I'll carry them myself. I don't want to bother you."

"I insist. And it's really not a bother. I have nothing else to do. These are really heavy, let me help."

"You really don't have anything else to do?"

He smiled triumphantly, as if he knew he had won. "I don't."

She sighed. "Fine then. My house is nearby. Thank you vey much."

He shook his head, that smile still on his face. "No worries."

She led him to her house, a peaceful silence between the two.

It wasn't long before they reached her house, and she turned to him, keys in her hand.

"Please come in. Let me make you some tea." That was the least she could do for him.

"Oh no, that is unnecessary, I don't want to bother you. It was my pleasure to help."

"I insist. And it really is not a bother." She smirked, throwing his words back at him.

He shook his head, grinning. "Fine."

She let the two of them in, setting about to get some tea ready. "So, may I ask what you are going to with these?"

When Y/n turned to look at him, he gestured at the bags he set on the counter.

"Because from what I saw outside, these things are usually used for baking."

Y/n smiled. "Yeah. It's my friends birthday today. I was thinking of making her a cake."

"That's great. Do you bake often?"

Her smile now turned sheepish. "No. I tried a couple of times, back when I was younger," -six months ago- "and I damn near brought down the whole kitchen once."

Lucien chuckled. "So now you think you can do it properly?"

She picked up the cookbook nearby and waved it at him. "I will follow instructions this time."

Judging by the amusement in his eyes, she thought he would laugh, but he didn't. He simply extended his hand towards her and asked, "Can I have a look?"

She handed it to him, turning to check on the tea she was brewing.

The sound of the pages being flipped were the only sounds other than her pouring the liquid into cups for the two of them.

When she turned back around, she found him staring intensely at the book, his brows furrowed, a downward tilt to his mouth. She tried to make no noise as she set down the cup in front of him, hoping to not disturb his concentration.

But he glanced up at her, frowning. "This won't work. This is too complicated."

Y/n blinked, taken aback by the seriousness in his eyes and words. "What do you mean?"

He closed the book, setting it aside as he pulled the cup of tea towards him. "Baking is simpler than whatever bullshit is given in there."

"You know how to bake?"

"I helped my mother when I was younger."

"And exactly how many years ago was that?"

His eyes narrowed. "How many years since you baked anything?"

That made Y/n shut up.

She sighed ruefully. "Maybe I'm just not supposed to bake."

Lucien shook his head. "I can help."

She glanced at him. "What?"

He shrugged. "I don't have anything else to do anyways. I can help you bake the cake."

"I don't want to bother-"

"Its not a bother. I would love to help."

Y/n smiled behind her cup as she took a sip of her tea, a warmth spreading through her chest.

"Thank you. I appreciate the gesture." Then, she looked at the redhead for a moment longer before turning away. "And you know what? I am noticing a pattern too."

•○🌑○•

After a day filled with trying to decide on the flavour for the cake, the decorations, making the cake and laughter, it was finally time to sleep.

The party had been perfect, so many memories made, and so many things she could think about.

But no matter what, Y/n couldn't stop thinking about him.

She didn't remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so thoroughly around a male, let alone one she knew nothing about.

And as she went to sleep that night, trying not to think of how his eyes twinkled in amusement when she had dropped an egg on the ground- huffing and puffing- she failed to keep that smile off of her face.

•○●⛦●○•

Lucien's pov.

After the day filled with helping her bake, correcting anything she had been doing wrong and watching as happiness spread across her face when the cake came out almost nearly perfect, it was finally time to sleep.

The day had been perfect, a reprieve from the constant ugly thoughts Lucien had about himself. Memories had been made, though unexpected.

But no matter what, Lucien could not stop thinking about her.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself so thoroughly around someone, let alone someone he barely knew anything about.

And as he went to sleep that night, trying not to think of how she had jumped around and squealed in excitement- so much so that she had nearly burnt herself by the hot pan- Lucien failed to keep that smile off of his face.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Soon enough, Y/n learned that the handsome male with the metal eye, Lucien, was the Lucien Vanserra. The youngest son of the High Lord of Autumn Court.

He frequented the shop after that day they spent baking, him and Y/n becoming fast friends. He'd told her that he lived in the human lands with his friends, Jurian and Vassa.

Recently, she had learned that this Jurian he was friends with was the Jurian from the war centuries ago, the powerful human commander, remade by the Cauldron.

Expect Lucien to surprise a four hundred year old fae who thought she could not be surprised about anything anymore.

Y/n shook her head with an exasperated grin, finishing braiding her hair. She had spent the whole afternoon wondering what hairstyle would look good with her dress for her meeting with Lucien, eventually settling for a simple braid. Few strands framed her face, and she thought it looked better than any elaborate hairstyle she could have done.

Even after six months of being friends with him, he never failed to shock her by telling her things about himself.

He had sent a letter in advance that he would be visiting today, and he wanted to meet with her in their favourite cafe before reporting to the High Lord.

She had, of course, agreed. He was the only friend she had other than the female she had baked for, what with her being cooped up in her home with a book in hand when she wasn't working in the nearby jewellery store.

A knock sounded on the door, and Y/n practically flew down the stairs, taking a deep breath to calm her heart before opening the door.

There he stood in all his glory, smiling at her. The fading sunshine made his hair look on fire, his skin glowing.

"My lady. You look quite...dishevelled." He murmured, his eye twinkling. Y/n frowned, lifting her hand to her hair. It had looked good when she checked it in the mirror. Maybe the braid didn't look as good as she thought it did. In which case, she wanted to go and jump off a cliff.

Before her hand could touch her hair though, Lucien caught it, grinning and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, all the while maintaining eye contact. Y/n blushed.

"When I said dishevelled, I meant you look like you've run a mile. That looks exquisite." He said, straightening and flicking her forehead. "You look exquisite."

"Shut up." She mumbled, shoving his shoulder and stepping out, turning to lock the door. When she had finished, she turned to find him leaning against a pillar of the front porch. He smiled and inclined his head towards the road.

They walked towards the cafe, talking about his past days in the human lands and her job at the jewellery store. How she didn't really care for it and was thinking of taking up something else.

They soon reached the cafe which stood right on the banks of the Sidra and had outdoor seating as well in the backyard, right next to the river. As they settled down in their usual seat in a corner right next to the river, her eyes sharpened on the paper stuck on a nearby wall.

"Hey Lucien? Do you see that?" Y/n questioned, making Lucien glance back at it.

"Yeah. Looks like they're hiring." Lucien's eye lit up as he turned back to her. "You should try." She nodded enthusiastically.

Soon, they finished their food and Lucien was waiting to pay, having insisted on paying while Y/n talked to the hotel's owner. She was quite happy Y/n said she wanted to work there. They finally settled on her starting in two days.

After that, as they were walking home, the delicious smell of freshly baked cakes reached them. Y/n grinned at Lucien who took her arm and walked towards the stand where an old lady was selling small round cakes that were the size of Y/n's palm. They made idle conversation with her while she handed them their treats.

"You two make a good couple. Are you mates?" She asked as soon Y/n took a bite. Which was very unfortunate as she immediately choked on it. Lucien patted her back, grinning as he turned to the lady.

"No, we aren't mates. We're just friends."

"What a shame. But maybe the bond hasn't made itself known yet?"

Lucien shook his head with a sad smile. "That would've been wonderful, really." Y/n's had whipped to him, her eyes wide. Did he just say what she thought he did? Could it be that he... no. That was stupid. He had a mate that he would die for, regardless of whether she liked him back. He would never...

"But I already have a mate." He continued.

"Oh I'm so sorry then for assuming things."

"Don't be. It's not like it matters anyway. She doesn't want the bond."

"Oh mother, that's truly unfortunate. Maybe you could be with someone else? I loved someone in my youth, but he never paid me any attention. Then one day my friend advised me to forget the male. Now I'm married to my friend and I think I couldn't be any more happy."

Lucien looked thoughtful. "That's a good advice, I must say. And I'll definitely think about it." He winked at Y/n, making her blush furiously.

They continued on after that, though there was silence now compared to their earlier mindless chatter. And it was filled with tension. Y/n wrapped her arms around herself, staring into the waters of the Sidra nearby.

As they walked, her mind wandered to what Lucien had said to the woman. Could he really mean what he had said? He wasn't one to joke about such serious matters... but then again, maybe he was jesting.

Soon, they had reached her house, and she stepped up to open the door.

"You want to come in? We can have some tea..."

Lucien smiled. "I would love to if it's not a problem."

As she set about making the tea, he sat watching her every move. Which made her work extremely carefully, wondering if he was judging her. Which was absurd. Because, not only would Lucien never judge her, but also because she never would have cared for something so trivial as someone judging her. So why did she care now?

Because you lov–

She shut the thought down before it even finished.

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

It had been over a month since he had seen his Y/n, and he was already craving her presence. Initially, he been able to go longer periods without meeting his friend. But as time went on, he became more and more enraptured with her and shorter and shorter became the time period between his visits.

The way she laughed on anything he said. The way her eyes would light up when she looked at him. The way he could make her blush by just looking at her. How she would get excited when taking about the newest book she was reading or when she learned something that made her happy.

He just couldn't get enough of her sometimes. All he wanted to do was stay and bask in her presence.

Of course, it wasn't possible, what with his work of going back and forth between human lands and the Night Court, as well as Day Court, where he had been spending some time getting to know his father.

It was a shock when he found out that Beron wasn't his real father, but he was adjusting. She had a big part in his acceptance. And he was grateful for it.

Now, he was going to leave his emissary duties for the Night Court, going to live in his father's court permanently. Which was why Feyre had decided to have the whole of the inner circle and him go out to eat for dinner. Lucien had suggested the cafe by the Sidra for the ordeal.

The place where Y/n currently worked.

He was smiling at his thoughts of her when he knocked on the door of the River House. Nuala opened it, greeting him with a smile before letting him enter. There was already sounds of chatter coming from the living room as he walked towards it. Everyone was here then. Great.

The quicker this was over, the faster he could spend time with Y/n.

He would leave soon, but that didn't mean he wouldn't come back to Velaris. He had important people here.

He had informed Rhys about his departure a few months ago, and had agreed to stay till they found someone who would be willing to take up the duties of Lucien. They were still searching for someone, so Lucien was still the emissary.

•○●⛦●○•

Lucien tapped his leg on the floor impatiently, his eyes constantly flitting between the tables and booths in search of his friend.

It had only been a few moments since he had arrived with the inner circle, but he simply couldn't wait to catch a glimpse of her.

While he was searching for Y/n, he failed to notice the High lord and lady's, as well as the entire inner circle's eyes on him.

He craned his head, and he finally heard that beautiful voice he'd been dying to hear from behind him.

"Good evening. May I take your order?"

He turned his head so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, but Lucien didn't care as his eyes met those of Y/n's.

Her mouth lifted at the edges, a knowing look in her eyes as she turned away to converse with Rhysand.

His brain didn't process the words being exchanged between the two, he was so busy admiring her.

And wondering when the damn dinner will be over so he could finally talk to her and catch up.

When she left the table after taking their orders, she distcreetly brushed her hand against his bicep, pulling a smile on his face.

Just an hour or so. He reminded himself as he focused on the table in front of him, ignoring the looks of the inner circle, including Elain.

Which wasn't all that hard.

•○●⛦●○•

The time seemed to pass slower, just to torture Lucien that night.

Right when Lucien was about to loose his patience, everyone had finished dessert, and were on the verge of leaving.

Lucien stood, nodding at Cassian and Azriel in goodbye, hugging Feyre and shaking Rhys's hand. Making some excuse- unconvincing, he was sure- about having to go meet up with Vassa and Jurian, he walked away, eyeing the place Y/n had disappeared into.

He knew that she was about to leave, had probably already left, and he couldn't wait to tell her all the juicy stories he'd acquired over his recent travels, as well as the budding tensions between Vassa and Jurian.

The moment he stepped out onto the road, he heard her voice.

"So desperate to meet me fox boy?"

Lucien smirked, turning to find the owner of the voice leaning against a wall. "You wish."

Her eyebrows lifted as she pushed herself off the wall. "Sure. Didn't seem like it was just my fantasy when you were searching around like an eager puppy."

He grinned, though a flush climbed up his neck at being caught red handed. "Just wanted to see you so I could tell you about Vassa and Jurian."

Y/n grinned, throwing her arms around his neck as she buried her face in his neck. He returned the hug in kind, warming up his body a little through his magic so he could ward off the chill in the air surrounding them.

They stayed in the hug for longer than seemed appropriate, but no one was watching anyways. And neither of them cared if anyone was.

Y/n was the first to pull away, smiling shyly up at Lucien.

"You want to get some cake before we go home?" Y/n questioned, beginning towards the general direction of her home.

"I feel like we should make it ourselves." Lucien wiggled his eyebrows, throwing his arm around her shoulders as they began the trek to her home.

She shook her head slightly, becoming redder by the moment as she grinned softly at her feet.

•○🌑○•

It was solstice tonight.

It had been one not-long-enough year since he'd met Y/n.

Lucien's chest felt lighter than it had been in ages.

They had already found a new emissary who they trusted, and so today was Lucien's last day as a member of the Inner Circle.

He was here today to deliver some reports to Rhys.

The sound of utensils and laughter greeted him as soon as he entered the River house, the inner circle being as loud as ever. But as soon as he stepped foot in the dining room, everything went silent, all eyes turning to him.

He smiled at Feyre, nodding to Rhys and pointing to the papers in his hands. He placed the stack on a table nearby, before nodding again to the rulers of Night and turning away.

"Wait! Where are you going? Come have dinner with us." Lucien looked at Feyre, shaking his head.

He didn't want to stay. Not when all that was going through his head was how he would go up to Y/n's door and knock, and how she would open the door suspiciously, those eyes narrowed. But then she would realise that it was him, and she would fling the door open with squeal, tackling him into a hug, laughing. How when she pulled back, she'd realise she was in her pajamas and would self consciously brush herself down, touching her hair. How–

"Lucien?" Lucien winced, coming back to the present.

"I can't stay. I have to go meet a friend."

"Oh. Did you plan a meeting beforehand?"

"Oh no. She doesn't know I'm here. I'm going to go surprise her."

"She?" A gentle and soft voice intoned. Lucien stiffened. The voice he had wanted to hear acknowledge him ever since the bond snapped for him.

He turned to look at Elain, his brows rising as he took her in. She was standing from her seat next to the shadowsinger, her knuckles white from clenching her fork so tightly. Her brows were furrowed in anger, and she looked murderous.

"Yes..." He didn't really know how to answer the question, so he simply watched her.

Rage entered her eyes. "Is this the female you went with that night when we were out?"

Lucien blinked, wondering what was making Elain so angry. "Yes. Exactly that one."

Elain huffed out a bitter laugh. "So is she trying to steal my mate now? She did look like someone who steals males."

For a moment, no one moved. There was so much silence it was deafening.

Almost everyone was staring between Elain and Lucien, their eyes wide. Except from Amren, of course. Nothing could faze the little devil. And Nyx, who waved around a piece of carrot like a sword.

Lucien smiled slowly. "Glad to know your thoughts on my life, mate. I will let her know of your amazing thoughts about her."

Lucien turned away, walking towards the foyer, but just before he turned out of sight, he glanced back, his eyes meeting Elain's.

"She and I were only ever friends, but now that you've said it, I realise that we never were meant to be friends." Lucien smiled slightly, bowing his head. "Thank you."

And with that, he left, ready to meet with his friend.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Her solstice had been normal. Nothing great to do. Her father had gone out drinking with his friends, her friends having been busy with their own families. Even the old hag was busy tending to and celebrating with her brother.

She was sure Lucien would also be busy with something, since he hadn't written to her to let her know of his arrival if he was coming.

That left Y/n alone.

But then suddenly, a knock had sounded on the door, and Y/n's heart had fluttered before even knowing who stood on the other side of the door.

After Lucien told her what was going on with Vassa and Jurian, he began telling her of the events that went down in the High lord's home as she got ready to take a stroll around Velaris with Lucien.

Her blood boiled when she heard of the things Elain said to Lucien, but a smile of reassurance from him was all it took for her to calm down.

They were in the main square of Velaris right now, watching the people dance around the huge fire in the centre.

It had become a tradition in the recent years for the people of the city to come together and dance the night away, laughing and drinking and mingling. It was a wholesome event, where younger people would gather around the old towards the end of the night and simply listen to their tales.

This was the first time Y/n was attending with someone else, as usually she would come here alone and sit next to the elderly, watching as younger couple her age danced around and bonded.

The glow from the fire danced in Lucien's eyes, making it look like there was fire inside those mismatched eyes. There was a relaxed grin on his face, one like she'd never seen before. He seemed so careless now, so free, it made Y/n smile too.

"You're staring." He pointed out, his voice barely audible over the cheers and the faeries singing along.

Y/n blushed, but in a sudden burst of boldness, she spoke, looking away. "It would be a crime not to."

From the periphery of her eyes, she found him gaping at her and had to suppress a triumphant smile.

"You know, I feel like the Mother took extra time making you."

He let out a surprised laugh, the sound lighting fires across Y/n's body.

"All that extra time to make me ruined by a fucking scar."

His tone was light, though Y/n could sense a hint of insecurity and sadness under the joy.

She turned to him, watching as the smile slowly vanished from his face at the look in her eyes.

"You are beautiful, Lucien, scars and all. And if I had the chance, I would show you how beautiful they are to me." She let her hand reach up toward his face, ignoring the heat entering his eyes or the way his pupils dilated as she traced the scar that ended at his jaw.

"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful."

HIs eyes fell shut as the music came to an end, and the people dancing around the fire dispersed for a moment.

"Y/n..." He whispered, his hand reaching up to hold hers against his face.

The music started up again, a soft and slower sound than before, more sensual.

This one was for people who were a couple or in a relationship, just a slow waltz to cool down before everyone again joined in a faster, more traditional dance.

"Dance with me."

The words were a shock to her system, and she nodded without even thinking.

It wasn't until the two of them had begun dancing, her arms wrapped around his broad and strong shoulders, their faces barely inches away, that she remembered that this was a waltz for couples, and she and Lucien were definitely not a couple.

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. She opened her mouth to tell him, trying to ignore the warmth against her skin from the fire behind her, his body pressed so close to hers in the front.

"Lucien, this dance is for-"

"I know." He mumbled, his eyes smoldering. "I know." He repeated, making sure she understood.

Suddenly, his arms around her waist became more apparent, the way they rested over her lower back. The way the stray hairs that had escaped his low bun tickled her neck, the way his breath washed over her skin when he exhaled.

Y/n's mind was about to either stop working, or remind her of Lucien's touch every two minutes, and honestly, she didn't know which one she prefered.

He never broke eye contact once during the whole dance.

Soon, but not soon enough, the slow music came to an end. And the people that sat along the outer edge cheered, clapping and demanding the couples kiss. And as all the couples shared that intimate moment, Y/n's heart rate picked up, panic clawing up her throat, feeling so many eyes on her and him, wondering what Lucien would do.

She didn't have to wonder long, though.

Lucien began leaning in, making Y/n's eyes flutter closed. She swallowed, licking her lips.

Then she felt his hot breath closer to her face, his lashes brushing gently against her skin as she felt those plump, beautiful lips on the corner of hers.

She felt him smile against her skin. All the while, it was hard to breathe.

But then he pulled away, a flush on his cheeks. If it was because of the heat of the enormous fire behind her, or because he was genuinely flustered, she couldn't tell.

As the faster music started, Lucien grinned wickedly at her.

"Let's dance, my lady."

•○🌑○•

Y/n's feet were sore, but it was all so worth it.

At some point during the night, she had discarded her shoes next to a kind old male who she had known since she was a child.

All the dances after Y/n and Lucien's initial waltz had been fast paced, where everyone changed partners every few moments. It was one of the best things that had happened that night, getting to know new people and dancing and singing along to the top of their lungs.

It was all so beautiful.

She had always thought so, watching from the sidelines. But now, being one of the people she would have watched, it was a whole different experience.

The dancing was supposed to go on for atleast one more hour before the elders gathered and began telling stories. That would go on for the rest of the night.

And so, Y/n decided to get some rest, maybe somewhere on he benches near the Sidra where it would be quiet before returning to listen to the elder's tales.

Listening to loud music for hours was one way to invite a headache.

Y/n began making her way up to Lucien, who stood on the opposite side of the huge fire, but then she paused, simply admiring him.

He had discarded his embroidered overcoat next to where Y/n had placed her shoes, now only in a simple, thin white shirt that clung to his sweaty frame, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He laughed as he held the hands of a little girl, giving her instructions on how to move. The little girl's tongue poked out of her lips as she concentrated, and Lucien was just as concentrated as her.

Once the current music came to an end, the girl grinned up at Lucien, and he ruffled her hair in return before she ran away, maybe to her friends.

Y/n finally walked up to Lucien, smiling tiredly at him.

"Hello, you."

He smiled back. "Good evening, my lady."

Y/n rolled her eyes at the title. "Shut up."

"Can I not even greet you now?"

"Yeah yeah whatever. I'm going to go sit at a bench, rest a little then return. You coming?"

He nodded, walking over to where his coat lay on the ground. He picked it up along with her shoes then returned.

When she tried to take her shoes from him, he waved her away.

The two of them walked in silence, heading towards the quiet river. Once there, they walked onto the bank and settled down where the place was relatively drier than all other places. Y/n dipped her feet in the cold water, releasing a relieved sigh at the soothing sensation.

Lucien pulled out two packets from the pocket of his coat, tearing open the wrapper and handing one to Y/n. She looked at him, confused.

He simply opened his pack, and then bit into the cake.

"Why do you have these with you?" She questioned, though she began nibbling on the little treat.

He shrugged. "Jurian found these at a bakery in mortal lands a few days ago. I thought you might like it."

She smiled, staring into the water as she slowly chewed.

"The inner circle were in the crowd tonight."

Y/n whipped her head to look at Lucien, but he didn't even seem bothered or interested in talking about the inner circle. He said it so casually, like he was telling her it was night and not day.

After a moment, Y/n spoke. "Was Elain there?"

He nodded, taking a bite of the cake. He took his time chewing before he gave her a response.

"I saw them after the fourth or fifth song. Apparently, they'd been watching since the first song."

Y/n gaped at him.

He glanced at her. "What?"

"Why are you so nonchalant about this?! Your mate saw you dancing with me on a song meant for people involved romantically!"

He blinked, then raised a brow. "And?"

"That might ruin any chances you had with her!"

He shrugged again. "There was never any chance anyway."

"Lucien! You-"

"Look Y/n. It's been long since the bond made itself known. It's been long enough that if she wanted to accept the bond, she would have. And long enough that if she didn't want the bond, she would have rejected it."

"Yes I know but you love her-"

"Let me speak, love. Let me get this off my chest. I never loved her. She didn't give me the chance to. The pull I felt towards her was simply the bond clouding my judgement. The desperation with which I seeked to gain her attention was me simply yearning for happiness. If I had not been so lonely and upset all the time, maybe I wouldn't even have acknowledged the bond if she ignored it too.

"And maybe I am a bastard for that, but I don't know what had gotten over me for the past year or so. I had lost almost all of myself, until you came along.

"You-" Lucien looked at Y/n, his eyes bright "-you made me realise that I did not need another person to make me happy, and that I didn't have to stop being myself for someone to love me. And i will be eternally grateful to you for it."

Y/n shook her head, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. "Lucien, you deserve to find love. You deserve to have a happy life."

"And I know that now. All because of you."

"But I did nothing." She sniffed, her cake forgotten in her hand.

"You didn't have to. Just simply being my friend and showing me kindness made a significant difference in how I saw myself."

"But what about Elain? What about the bond?"

He smiled. "She can be with anyone she wants now. She wanted to have control over some aspects of her life after having been forced to turn, and honestly, I don't blame her. I would have wanted to do the same if my life had been anything like her."

"And what about you?"

Y/n felt like she knew the answer, but she still wanted to know.

"I do not need a bond to be with someone I love, you know."

"And who is it that you love?"

His smile turned knowing. "You know the answer, don't you?"

"Tell me still. After all, you do love hearing yourself speak."

This was a serious moment, but Y/n felt like if she didn't try to lighten the air by joking, this would become real. And she didn't know if she could handle that.

"I love you, Y/n."

She closed her eyes, telling herself this was not real, that she would wake up soon, and realise this had been a dream. Just like all the times before she had had the dream of being with Lucien and then waking up, all alone in her bed and staring at the ceiling.

But when silence settled around her, him staring at her expectantly, she realised this was no dream.

That someone like Lucien really was in love with someone like her.

She closed her eyes, a tear slipping out of the corner of her eyes. "You don't mean that."

She felt his thumb brushing away the tear a moment before she felt his lips on her cheek. "I do. I am in love with you, my lady. I would do anything to show you how much I love you. To prove to you that I really do."

Her eyes fluttered open, staring into his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. "Why?"

He chuckled. "What do you mean why? There is not need of a reason for me to love you. I simply love you because you exist."

After a moment, she whispered what she had been dying to scream. "I love you, Lucien. I love you so much."

His smile widened, and he began closing the distance between them. "Then let me be yours."

Just before their lips met, she mumbled. "Be mine."

And her body ignited.

•○●⛦●○•

Her joints were creaking, but the old hag watched, and waited.

She had this primal need to have the little girl she'd watched grow up in front of her eyes find happiness, and she would threaten even the mother if the need arose to make Y/n happy.

But she didn't have to do that, because as she watched, the fire head male leaned in and pressed a kiss to Y/n's lips, and the old hag smiled, giddy with happiness and excitement.

And then she turned away, meaning to hobble back to the solstice celebration in the main square and leave the two younglings to enjoy the night together.

But then she paused, staring at the young female that stared at Y/n and the fire boy she'd fallen in love with.

Slowly, the old hag's brain remembered that this female with soft features and silky hair was the high lady's sister. And in turn, Lucien's mate.

Damn the mother. The old hag cursed, shaking her head.

"Leave them be." The hag ordered the girl in front of her, who turned to her with wide eyes. "They both deserve happiness. Don't you dare think about getting in the way."

The girl in the lilac dress nodded, her eyes becoming watery, but the hag had already begun walking away.

And after a final glance at the giggling couple on the riverbank, the girl turned away, jealousy and relief warring in her chest.

•○●⛦●○•

When Lucien pulled away, his hand still resting on her cheek, she couldn't stop a giggle from escaping. His lips quirked, a little swollen.

"Something funny?"

She shook her head, her cheeks warm as she turned back to the water. "Should we do a toast, my lord?"

He laughed at that, shifting closer to her as he put an arm around her shoulders. "And what will we toast with? We don't have wine or anything."

"We have these cakes." She pointed out.

He lifted his cake into the air. "Alright then. To love!"

Y/n wrinkled her nose. "And cakes!" She said as she raised her hand, and Lucien laughed.

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Carefree and happy.

And Y/n simply watched, admiring.

Loving.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

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

[slytherhys]

A Case of Punctuality

A/N: As per usual, I'm quite late on posting this oneshot but I thought we needed a celebration either way so here it goes: a smutty elriel oneshot in honour of all the wonderful things we've discovered since friday. I truly hope this filthy, blush-inducing smutty oneshot is enough to thank you all for being so patient with me. ;)

TW: Explicit sexual content; explicit language; very much not El*cien friendly

Word count: ± 4K words | You can also find this story on AO3!

Elain checked the time once again, trying her best not to fidget where she sat between a rigid Lucien and an oblivious Feyre. She couldn’t say she loved these poorly executed attempts at setting them up, but she could hardly complain when her sister’s intentions were nothing but pure (even if she couldn’t say the same thing about her husband’s). Still, Elain couldn’t bring herself to pretend she cared for the company she was being forced to keep.

Lucien, for his part, seemed as thrilled as she felt. Beyond his obvious discomfort, Nesta had been glaring at the back of his side for the bigger part of the night, watching his every move as if ready to strike at the slightest jerk of a knee. Elain almost pitied the male. In any other scenario Elain would’ve hated Nesta’s attention, but truth be told, no matter how hypocritical it was, she couldn’t help but appreciate her sister’s overbearing control. Mainly as Lucien cleared his throat, turning his body towards her once again.

“Have you been doing well, then?” He cleared his throat again. “Here in Velaris?”

It was a variation of all his previous questions, really. Are you liking the Town House? Is your occupation making you happy? Have you made friends? Elain couldn’t accuse him of not trying, but he seemed as interested in her answers as she was in his questions. Neither of them wanted to be there, next to each other. Elain knew exactly where she wanted to be, and by the longing looks Lucien kept sending the door, she assumed he did too.

Far, far away from her. Closer to the bird of fire, most likely.

Still, Elain smiled. There were still 9 minutes to go, after all. “I’m exactly where I want to be.” She offered. “What about you?”

Lucien nodded, eyes straying to the door once again, a gentle smile on his lips. “I suppose I am too.” Really, it was all she could do not to force him out of the house, back to where he truly wanted to be. It was pitiful. “But as it stands, I was needed in Velaris.” His eyes flickered to Rhys, who stood by Feyre, talking to her with a teasing smile on his face.

Elain eyed Lucien carefully. So, an assignment had brough him to Velaris – Elain doubted that the fact Lucien had arrived the very same day Azriel had been sent away was a coincidence. Rhysand was nothing if not thorough.

But so was Elain. She eyed the clock again. 7 minutes to go. “And when will you be going back?” If there was any anticipation clinging to her voice, they both chose to ignore it.

“Tomorrow, my lady.” A bow of his head. Elain remained silent, afraid she’d reveal how relieved she felt. By the way Lucien suddenly stood up, excusing himself ever so politely, she doubted she had accomplished it. He turned to her, as if suddenly remembering he couldn’t just leave her. Both ignored the soft growl Nesta sent his way. “Will I see you at midnight? For a celebration dance?” A Velarian custom – to dance the waltz at the turn of the New Year.

Elain winced apologetically. “I will be retiring to bed soon enough.” She stood as well, making sure they both kept their distance. “But I shall see you tomorrow before you leave.” She offered instead. A boon neither wanted.

Relief seemed to course through his body, an easy smile overtaking his features as he bowed, “Of course, my lady.” And then he was making his way towards the Mor – or, most likely, the table filled with drinks behind her. Elain ignored the blonde’s knowing smirk, as she did Rhysand’s eyes on the side of her face. She turned to her younger sister.

“I think I’ll take my leave.” She dusted off her lavender dress as if to brush away any lingering traces of their conversation. “I was up rather early, and I want to get some rest before tomorrow.”

“How did it go?” Feyre asked.

“About as interesting as it usually does.” She offered Rhys a bland smile, noticing the amused smile her baby sister was trying to repress.

“I expect my bedroom walls to be much more stimulating.” Feyre choked on her wine, doing her best to hide her laughter. Rhysand turned to her, clearly feeling betrayed by his mate.

 “Elain.” He warned. Luckily for her, Feyre was quick to scold him, shooing him away before he said anything else. Rhysand huffed, clearly feeling betrayed by his mate. Elain was glad of his departure – she loved Rhysand, but resentment was a wound deep inside her psyche that seemed to fester whenever he played with her love life as if one of his chess games. Feyre too seemed to be aware of it as she pulled her into a comforting hug.

Elain eyed the clock again. 4 minutes.

“Happy New Year, Elain.” Feyre pulled away, a knowing glint in her eyes. “I do hope your bedroom walls help you welcome the new year with much more bliss.”

Elain said nothing, giving Feyre a quizzical smile before swiftly leaving the room. Luckily, Rhysand seemed to be involved in a rather dramatic discussion with Cassian and Amren, and other than Nesta’s eyes trailing after her, no one seemed to notice as she slipped into the shadows of the staircase, hurrying before anyone could look her way - and before he could tease her again about being late. Again.

Still, Feyre’s words seemed to follow her. Was it possible that her sister knew? Or that she at least suspected it? Elain believed very little to be unknown by Feyre, and despite her efforts, she knew her High Lady frequently knew more about her life than what she let on.

Elain crossed the shadowy hall, letting all her worries be forgotten in the light as she opened the door to her chamber. Before the candles flickered to life, before Elain could wonder why goosebumps erupted all over her skin, a scarred hand was covering her mouth, the other quietly shutting the door in front of her. She was pressed against a hard body – the scent of the night clinging to his every inch.

For the first time that night, Elain relaxed. Her body seemed to melt against his hold as she felt cold lips press against the side of her neck.

“Princess.” He greeted softly, his lips finding the skin under her ear. Elain whimpered against his hand, eyes fluttering close as his tongue trailed the column of her neck.

She easily escaped his hold, turning around and drinking in the sight of him. He was still wearing the leathers he favoured for his missions, and his hair was slightly ruffled. His cheeks were flushed, making Elain wonder if he had flown here in a hurry.

Her clammy hands pressed against the wooden door, a futile attempt at grounding herself. She quickly scanned him from head to toe, looking for any signs of injury. Clearly, Azriel had no such concerns.

Before she could ask him anything his hands were cupping her jaw, his cold lips seeking hers. There was nothing soft about it; desperation was what painted his every move. His tongue seeking hers, his hands deftly letting loose the knots of her dress, his knee pressed between her legs. Elain bucked against his knee, her free-will clouded by the desire that now controlled her.

 “You’re early.” Elain panted.

He barely lifted his lips from hers. “I rushed home.”

She gently pushed him away, lifting an eyebrow. “From a mission?”

Azriel smiled softly. “Had a good motive.” And then he was kissing her again, his hands pressing against the back of her knees. Elain let herself go, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed. His arousal pressed against her centre, making Elain moan into the kiss.

“You need to be quiet.” He all but growled, gently laying her on the bed. “You don’t want anyone to know what you’re doing, do you, princess?” He teased, smirking as the cocky asshole he usually became before fucking her.

But before he could lean down again and claim her like he surely planned to, Elain got to her knees, watching him with hooded eyes and flaming cheeks, basking in the surprise that flickered in his face. She smiled cheekily, slowly pulling her dress down her shoulders, happy to be the one that brought him to his knees for once. She was so attuned to Azriel that the hitch of his breath did not go unnoticed and then it was Elain smirked as she fully uncovered what she was hiding under her dress.

Azriel went still.

Needless to say, she had spared no expense on her New Year’s outfit. At least on the one she had worn under her old blue dress.

Under the bobbing, faint, fae lights, her lilac, lace bra seemed to shimmer, the petals of the embroidered flowers covering just enough of her skin for it to be a tease. On her waist a silk garter belt – adorned with intricate designs of the same wildflowers that covered her breast – was connected to see-through, lilac-tinted stockings that made her luscious thighs gleam in the moonlight. Azriel seemed unable to focus on one thing alone – his eyes flickered from her chest to the flimsy fabric covering her pussy, to her thighs and back to her breasts.

He growled, the sound of pure male desire sending a shiver down her spine. “And you wonder why I rushed home.” He murmured, more to himself than to her. Elain could only blink, smiling sheepishly.

“So, you like it?”

He took a step forward, his eyes never leaving her figure, as if drinking in the sight of her. His scarred hands gripped her waist, his fingers absently tracing the wildflowers pressed against her skin. “Princess, I like it so much I almost feel bad about ruining it.” He pressed his nose into her hair, smiling against her temple as his hands dropped to her hips. To the fabric there. “Almost.”

And then Elain gasped, for the flimsy fabric seemed to just break apart in his hands. In a flash, she was bared to him, her bra quickly following the same fate. The garter, however, remained in place. From the way his eyes trailed it, Elain doubted it’d be coming out any time soon. Still, despite his obvious interest and the fact it made Elain feel entirely too please with herself, she sputtered, wanting to throttle him for ruining her very pretty, very expensive underwear.

But before she could so much as whine about it, Azriel dropped to his knees, his hands trailing her legs before pushing them open. The scent of her arousal surrounded them, and Elain had no time to feel embarrassed by how wet she was for him. Azriel pressed his face between her legs, his tongue expertly swirling against her pussy in a maddening pace that had her toes curling. He was devouring her.

“Fuck, Az.” She moaned, falling on her back as she reached for him, mindless with the need to touch him. To feel him.

He pulled away from her and Elain groaned at the sudden loss. Before she could complain – possibly hit him – he grabbed both her hands and put them on the top of his head, smirking up at her. There was nothing but the promise of pure sin on his face as he eyed her sprawled in front of him, her legs shamelessly spread around his shoulders. He curled her fingers around his hair, a command if there was ever one.

Oh. Oh.

Azriel pressed a kiss inside her thigh. “Ride my face, princess.” He rasped, as if she needed him to make it even more clear.

Elain was more than happy to oblige, pulling his hair as she bucked her hips against his sinful mouth, moaning whenever he flickered her clit. Azriel just kept swirling his tongue, following her lead, and groaning as if the taste of her was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. Every wet stroke against her core brought Elain closer and closer to the edge, her legs shaking her legs shaking around his head as he licked her without restrain. The feeling of his thick finger pressing inside of her was all it took for Elain to break apart, crying out as she shattered against his mouth.

“Fuck.” Azriel panted, looking deliciously dishevelled and satisfied, as if her orgasm had brought him as much pleasure as it had her. “I’ve been thinking about doing that all fucking week.”

Elain giggled – giggled – unable to move her body in her dazed state of mind. Azriel clearly didn’t mind continuing to worship her body. He caressed her glistening skin, peppering kisses along her ribcage, her breasts, her shoulders as he climbed up her body. Elain was panting by the time he reached her mouth, the tangy taste of her sending a forbidden rush down her bloodstream. She was putty in his hands, her body sated even as her arousal pressed against her skin, demanding attention. Elain ignored it, meeting his eyes instead.

His handsome face broke into a soft smile, his eyes tracing her features as he pressed a kiss to her nose. “Hi, princess.” He murmured, leaning down to kiss her on the lips.

Elain blushed, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to her. It was always like this, she realized. The need to touch him, to have him close to her as if he could slip into the shadows at any moment. She brushed those thoughts away.

“Hi.” She pushed his hair away from his eyes, hips bucking against his tragically still-dressed hips. “Why are you still dressed?” She whined, smiling as he trailed kisses along her jaw, down her neck.

Azriel chuckled against her collarbone. “I was busy.” He purred, his dark hair shinning under the fae lights as his lips now wrapped around her nipple. Pleasure stirred in her belly, her legs instinctively pulling him closer to her again. His cock was hard under his leathers, and the feel of it so thoroughly ready for her after spending all night waiting for him nearly drove her to madness. “Do you need something, princess?” He smirked, far too cocky for Elain’s liking. But then his lips were teasing her, tasting her skin as he licked her other nipple, softly pulling it between his teeth.

“Yes.” She gasped.

Azriel chuckled darkly, taking off his shirt and throwing it somewhere behind him. Elain took advantage of his distraction to press her hand against his covered cock, squeezing it, stroking it through the leathers as she drank the sight of his naked chest.

Azriel dropped back his head, groaning up to the skies as she continued to stroke him. He was divine – all hard lines and swirling dark paint, a chest carved by the old Gods. And it was something close to despair that clenched her heart as she realized she could never get sick of the sight of him – there wasn’t a world where, no matter how many times she licked, sucked, or fucked him, she would ever get sick of him. She got up to her knees, closing her mouth around his nipple, biting softly just as he had hers. In a flash, his hands were wrapped around her hair, pulling her face back as he stared down at her.

“Tell me what you want so I can give it to you.” Elain shook her head, smiling cheekily as she kept stroking his cock. Azriel tightened the hair around his fist, pulling a whimper from her as the delicious pressure coursed through her body. “What do you want.” He gritted through his teeth.

“I want you.” She said simply, her eyes locked on his. “I always want you.” She pulled at the laces of his pants, undoing them with the grace of a trembling fawn. Pulling his face towards her with her free hand, pressing his forehead against hers, she said, “But right now I need you to fuck me.”

Azriel cursed under his breath, turning her around so that she faced the wall instead of him. She was on her hands and knees before he could order her to, the sound of his pants rustling and smacking against the floor a delicious omen of what was to come. Elain could almost ignore the disappointment of not being able to see his glorious cock, to watch the moment he entered her, watch as his he closed his eyes and bit his lip in an attempt to keep all sound locked inside of him.

Instead, she felt the tip of his cock press against her pussy as he coated himself in her arousal, both groaning as he grinded against her sensitive skin.

“You’re so wet for me.” He groaned, his hands trailing her back as if he was memorising the sight of her. Elain knew – she could hear it as he pushed inside her, could feel it in the way he entered her with ease despite his size. Her arms buckled under her as he filled her, and she moaned against the soft comforter in a poor attempt to cover her own sounds.

Their friends and family were downstairs – the male who called himself her mate too. Elain didn’t care – she couldn’t care as Azriel pulled his cock back and pushed inside again, groaning as she clenched around him. Elain cursed, her hips moving in time with his thrusts, seeking his touch every time he pulled away.

He grabbed her hair again, pulling her up as he kept fucking her at a tantalizing speed. Too slow for her to come, but too fast for her not to cry out every time he pushed back inside. “Was this what you wanted, princess?” He asked, pressing his tongue against the curve of her neck, his other hand wrapping around her waist as he kept her in place. “To start the new year filled with my cock?”

Elain whimpered, reaching for his cheek. “I need to see you. Please, let me see you.”

Azriel was only too happy to oblige. Elain moaned as he pulled out of her, lying on his back, his cock glistening against his stomach. Then, his hands were around her and, as if she weighted nothing at all, he set her on top of him, straddling him. He watched her through hooded eyes as she panted, watching him right back.

Azriel smirked knowingly, surely about to mock her, or taunt her as he usually did when she was horny beyond comparison. Instead, Elain raised herself to her knees, grabbing his cock and slowly lowering herself until he was filling her once again. Azriel immediately closed his eyes, throat working as he gasped and cursed under his breath.  

In this position, he seemed to go even deeper than before, hitting nerves Elain had nearly forgotten existed. His scarred hands were on her waist, his fingers absently tracing the garter belt as he licked his lips and watched her get used to his size.

“You better start riding me, princess, it’s nearly midnight.” He rasped, smirking even as he panted. Elain didn’t care about the time, nor did she care about his teasing; not when all she could focus on was the feel of him inside of her. He was throbbing, twitching inside of her every time she moved her hips. When the pressure started being replaced by numbing pleasure, all Elain could do was ride his cock, moaning as he squeezed her tits. Azriel too, seemed lost in their joining. He raised his knees, thrusting from below, all teasing forgotten as he wildly chased the same pleasure that Elain sought.

“Fuck.” Elain cursed as she bounced, moaning as Azriel sat up and licked her breasts, his hand wrapping around her neck and squeezing ever so slightly.

“Are you gonna cum for, Elain?” He rasped, his handsome face watching her with something akin to adoration. He squeezed tighter, his thrusts sloppy and rushed, as if he himself was lost to the pleasure. “Cum around my cock like a good girl, princess.”

Elain pressed her mouth against his shoulder, moaning against his skin as she felt the world burst and begin anew. There was nothing but the male under her, nothing but the pleasure he gave her as he filled her again and again as his tongue traced the salt on her skin. Light exploded behind her eyelids, and she whimpered again as she heard Azriel groan, going still as he spilled inside of her with her name on his lips.

Then, the room went silent. Belatedly, she realised the room was filled with light. She opened her eyes, watching through the window as the night sky was painted into a rainbow of colour. Elain chuckled softly, panting, and exhausted as she noted with surprise the bite mark on Azriel’s shoulder. She blushed, choosing to press soft kisses to his skin instead of alarming him of the fact she had bitten him like a feral animal.

Azriel fell to his back, pulling her with him after wrapping his arms around her.

“Well,” He chuckled, nodding towards the window. “Just in time.”

Elain nodded, unable to stop herself from grinning, even as tears filled her eyes. She turned to Azriel, who watched her with a too-familiar emotion burning in his eyes. One she felt stirring inside her as well. Azriel smiled, as if completely aware of everything going through her mind. Elain feared he’d voice it – feared they’d be forced to face the very same thing they promptly avoided every time they were together.

“Happy new year, princess.” He offered instead. And again, all thoughts of unwanted bonds and meddling High Lords were forgotten. There was only him. There was only them.

“Happy new year, my love.” Elain smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his jawline, and lying her head against his chest. “Do you have any wishes?” She asked, eyeing the fireworks once again.

Azriel started playing with her hair, his heart playing a steady beat under her ear. “Wishes?” She could almost hear the frown in his voice.

Elain nodded, though he could probably only feel her move. “For the new year.”

Azriel took a deep breath, seeming to take it over. So much time seemed to pass that Elain assumed he no answer or, at the very least, that he had one but wasn’t too interested in voicing it out loud. Elain sure wasn’t.

But then he spoke. “I do.” He pressed a kiss against her hair and Elain’s heart tumbled. “And I’m fairly optimist about them.”

She stilled, raising her head, and looking up at him, only to find him already watching her. She understood then. They didn’t need to explain exactly what he wished for, did they? It was the very same thing she wished for too. “You are?” Her voice shook, and Azriel reached for her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. A comfort. “Why?”

“Call it a hunch.” He said, kissing her again, his tongue a soft caress against her own. She could feel his arousal stirring inside of her, could feel her own body reacting to it. Azriel, however, did nothing but look into her eyes, an almost boyish smile on his lips. “I think this year will be kind to us.”

Elain said nothing. Not even as hope fluttered inside her chest; not as he pushed her into her back, as he fucked her, kissed her, loved her and then did it all over again. After all, who was Elain to question him when she wished for nothing more?

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elriel fic #elriel fanfic #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #feyre archeron #pro elain archeron #elain x azriel #pro elriel #acotar #my writing #a case of punctuality

[shedoessoshedoes]

So Close

Inspired entirely by the movie Enchanted and the 2015 adaptation of Cinderella, I give you *drumroll please* PINING ELRIEL DANCING (yayyyyyyy) hope you all enjoy, and let me know if you do 😘

wc: 1165

tw: none

“Thank you all for your presence here tonight,” Helion announces to the crowd. “It is my privilege to share the joy of my newfound family with you.” He glances over to Lucien and the former Lady of Autumn, now High Lady of Day. “Love truly comes from the strangest of places. In honor of our story, Andromeda and I invite you to dance this final waltz with a partner you did not come with tonight. Those we are bound to are not always those we are meant to be with. Seek out a different kind of love, whether that be a romance or a friendship, as we partake in the dance of the sun.” 

Elain doesn’t know what to do with herself. She had come tonight with Lucien, as a favor to Rhys and Feyre (“Please, Elain,” Feyre had begged. “Just to show everyone that you’re trying.”) (Nevermind that Elain did not want to try with Lucien. Nevermind that perhaps Elain loved someone else.), and had spent most of the night on his arm. Helion’s speech had described her story a little too perfectly. She, too, was seen as belonging to a male she did not love. She, too, had found love outside of that binding. She, too, could not act on how she felt. She, too, had spent too much time wondering if perhaps the male she wanted to be hers felt the same way. But nevermind all of that, too. It wasn’t like she was in any position to ask Azriel to dance. 

She watches as Rhys bows to Nesta, still in the process of paying his penance for all the years of judgment and hate. Cassian sweeps Feyre off her feet in a twirl, and she tosses her head back and laughs. It’s a typical scene: no one would think to wonder whether silly old Elain would have anyone to dance with. She melts slowly back against the wall, but then–there he is. 

Looking every inch the dark, tortured soul he is, Azriel simply inclines his head to her. Elain’s breath catches in her throat. He is so beautiful. She loves him so much. They haven’t spoken since the Solstice. “A dance, Lady Elain?” 

Elain can do nothing but nod silently and slip her hand into his as he leads her to the center of the room. Sparks shoot up her arm from where their bodies touch. They settle into position, and the dance begins. 

—-

She looks stunning. In a cobalt blue gown, she might as well just declared herself as his, even if she stepped into the room on the arm of Lucien Vanserra. Azriel cannot breathe if he looks at her for too long. But the combination of the dress, and Helion’s speech, and six months of agony have Azriel losing control of himself. Besides, he couldn’t leave her standing alone during the last dance of the ball, could he? He can explain it away to Rhys, can claim that he asked her to dance with the intentions of a brother. Though his thoughts about her are anything but fraternal. 

This dance is simple. They both know it by heart. Azriel slides one hand around her waist, pulling her as close as the skirts of her dress will allow (which is not nearly close enough), and suddenly all the world is gone. 

They sway back and forth, and then Elain’s wrist comes to rest against his, and fuck, but that one simple touch has him nearly undone. “Elain,” he breathes out, and she takes an unsteady breath. Perhaps, five hundred years of life have required Azriel’s more romantic dreams to die. Perhaps he said goodbye to them far too quickly, because every dream that he ever could have had is here, in front of him, wrapped up in the package that is Elain Archeron. 

“They’re all looking at you,” she whispers. “You never dance.” This is true, mostly. The last time he danced was with Nesta in the Hewn City, and while that had been enjoyable, it hadn’t exactly been a choice. And it’s not like the Day Court citizens frequent Velaris’s Starfall celebrations where they could have seen him dance with his family. 

“Believe me,” he murmurs back, just loud enough for her to hear. “They’re all looking at you.” 

They twirl out for their first promenade, Elain’s hands resting on his arm, and he spins her around before pulling her back into a proper waltzing position–the closest they’ve been so far tonight. The closest they’ve been since Rhys’s godsdamn order. Elain’s heartbeat stutters, and Azriel wants to put his mouth on her pulse. Her entire neck and shoulders are visible in her gown, and it is entirely too distracting. 

He twirls her out and around him, and she laughs, and he would crawl over glass to hear that sound again. When he pulls her back in, her back is to his front, his hand covering hers on her hip. She leans back into him just slightly, and its his breath catching this time. When she spins around to face him, he can almost believe that this isn’t pretend. Can almost believe that this stunning female is actually his. The circle they’re clearing for their dance is larger now, other couples stopping to watch them. Az catches sight of Nesta with a small knowing smile on her face. 

This time, when he twirls her, he decides to show off, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her up off the ground. Elain’s smile is so bright it could replace the Day Court sun, and Azriel can see Rhys and Lucien glaring at him from two sides of the ballroom. He doesn’t care. He does it again, lifts her higher, and when Elain comes back down, her lips are far too close to his. He dips her to finish the dance, and the room erupts into applause. Elain looks around, startled, and blushes. Azriel pulls her back upright and whispers quickly into her ear. “I’ve never been so sorry for anything in my life. Let me explain it to you? Later tonight?” Then he’s pulling back before he can second-guess this massive risk he’s taking, and Elain gives him a tiny nod as Lucien returns to his mate’s side. 

“Lovely dancing Elain, Shadowsinger,” he says, and Azriel can feel a fight brewing in his bones. So he does nothing but incline his head to Lucien, bow to Elain, and step away. He’s sure he’ll have a shitstorm coming his way from Rhys, but right now, he can’t find it in himself to care. He sends a shadow over to Elain and watches it whisper into her ear. Her eyes tell him she understands. 

Later that night, he’s waiting, standing by the window of his room, wings folded in tight, a glass of whisky in his hand. The sound comes right when he thought that it would. Footsteps, and then a single knock. Elain. He takes a breath, whispers a prayer to the Mother. And goes to open the door.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let me know what you think!! Comments/feedback/constructive criticism is always welcome. My ask box is open--let me know what you want to read next!

#elriel #azriel #elain archeron #cinderella #enchanted #so close #elriel fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #shadow bat and flower girl #acotar

[nikethestatue]

TW: sexual assault

I just need to vent. I saw a post today (and it’s been the case almost everyday this last week) of a certain Gwynriel posting about Gwyn’s SA and how she can have a sexual relationship. I know when Elriels even bridge this conversation we get destroyed and told we’re disgusting. I think there are obviously problematic takes on both sides of this and a lot of nuance. However, even when very informed people share their thoughts about this topic, that side goes into attack mode. Even when it’s sensitively handled, people get attacked. Even when it’s clearly stated nobody is saying Gwyn or survivors cannot have a healthy sexual relationship. Even when it’s stated this is just the opinion based on how Gwyn’s character is written and how challenging that book would be to write (and read) with power dynamics, etc.

Well today, I saw a post of a bigger Gwynriel saying that Gwyn is not a virgin and I am just…at a total loss. I sincerely do not know how this is not incredibly offensive, but people on the other side who say Gwyn is very traumatized and has severe concerns associated with her trauma, to the extent that this would be a highly triggering and complex book to write, are evil and offensive. How is it not extremely offensive for somebody to associate a violent sexual assault with a character not being a virgin!? R*pe is not consensual. It is not sex.

If this person is so upset and opposed to this dialogue, why discuss it all the time? Why bring this up every single day this week?

I’m sorry but it’s frustrating for us to be told we’re these evil and terrible people for saying that a character who is a survivor of sexual assault, who lives in a court-funded shelter for vulnerable women and can barely leave said shelter without 1. Permission and 2. High levels of anxiety and struggles to be around men, would have a more powerful story healing outside of sex and a man. It’s so frustrating that this is such an offensive take to them, but it’s fully acceptable to use this character’s sexual assault as a rationale for why she isn’t a virgin and can have a sexual relationship?? It’s fully acceptable to say that Gwyn is going to jump into a sexual relationship with bdsm involved when she hasn’t even expressed sexual interest in anybody? That’s acceptable?? But we’re the bad guys for pointing out Gwyn is uncomfortable around men and this would be a highly triggering book for so many actual, real-life women bc the book would have to deeply explore themes of intimacy after sexual trauma and have an on page first sexual experience after this?

Just because some people heal via sex and bdsm does not mean it would be and is healing to all people who have been through a similar experience.

There would have to be major disclaimers and trigger warnings to that book. And that’s something a lot of people just do not want to read. And that’s valid. I don’t want to read that, personally, either. And I want better for Gwyn’s character than for this to be the mechanism of her healing. For sex and a man, who witnessed this happen to her, and is in a position of authority and has power over her, to be that vessel of her healing.

Idk - it just seems like there is ownership of this topic on that side. I’ve seen posts accusing us of not being survivors when statistically we know this isn’t true and is again, insensitive. There is just so much nuance that is missed. People respond to trauma differently and some characters are written with more symptoms than others. If it’s somehow acceptable to say Gwyn isn’t a virgin (when as far as we know the only experience she has had was non-consensual), but it’s unacceptable to say her character, who is written as highly traumatized, may need more time and her healing in this regard not happen on page after the last book where we left her struggling to leave the library to go to Nesta’s mating ceremony, idk what to even say.

It really feels like some people in this fandom are absolved of accountability and can say horribly offensive things but it’s ok bc they’re gwynriels. How is that compassionate towards a character you claim to care about?

And using Rhys and Lucien as a rationale for why this is possible is just…not even a justifiable comparison. There is so much nuance to this and again, everyone recovers and responds differently. Rhys and Lucien can be around women comfortably. Rhys and Lucien can be in public spaces. Gwyn will get there, but not bc of a man. But bc of her own strength and fortitude in her recovery.

All of this nuance is why I think it would be difficult to write this story sensitively. I guess in summary, of course Gwyn can have a sexual relationship. I don’t think anybody has said otherwise, as far as I have seen. It’s the timing and nature of these spinoffs that make it difficult to give this story the justice it deserves. And I argue that there is nothing offensive about believing that. But there is something highly offensive about saying Gwyn isn’t a virgin when we know her only sexual experience to have been non-consensual.

Sorry. I needed to get that out.

I agree with everything you said, Anon. I think, overall, Gwynriels are so consumed by this ship, the overwhelming NEED for the ship to happen that they fail to see the optics of the ship.

In general, Gwyn wasn't written to be in any ship, at least as it was written in ACOSF, Gwyn wasn't written to be a LI to any many, let alone Azriel. Her whole history was made up for SJM for one purpose, to put her in the Library and make her a friend to Nesta.

This utter misunderstanding and misappropriation of her character by GAs leads to all these very charged and uncomfortable conversations. The issue isnt that she is ready or not ready, or that people in RL ready or arent ready for sexual relations -- it's that she wasn't WRITTEN as a character who was meant to be having any sex with anyone. She isn't going to be tying Azriel up with the ribbon in the Library, or having BDSM sex with him, because again, she was written as a Valkyrie and a friend to Nesta.

That's why the infamous bonus was so sexually charged in the beginning, and then completely lacking in any sexuality in the second part. The sexual potential, the attraction,the desire were firmly set up with elriel. NOT Gwynriel. That's why Azriel wouldn't touch her, that's why there is an underlining theme of him being her teacher, being an 'opponent' to overcome (aka cut the ribbon), and her not being interested in him.

It's not 'oh evil Eriels don't want Gwyn to have sex!!! because they hate women with SA!' (we've all heard this nonsense). We don't give a fuck, frankly, if Gwyn has sex. What we DO understand is how characters and interactions are written. If Elain is extremely uncomfortable with Lucien, we are not going to twist and write 50K metas about how she is secretly pining for him. Sometimes, things are stated with specific intention. Same with Gwyn and Azriel and Gwyn and men--SJM isn't going there, because it's not a place she needs to be as a writer and that's not where her story is going. The setup is Elriel. That's it. It's not us. It's the author, who didn't write Gwyn as a LI. That's it.

[myromanempiree]

A rant about Elain

TW: Might piss people (shippers) off ig

Elain should be happy.

Whichever path she chooses, choosing one of the two, maybe a new guy, her being single or even exploring her sexuality (which would be some...better queer rep in Maas' books tbh, sorry not sorry Mor)

Even with all of those different outcomes, I genuinely don't care if Elains book has romance in it.

I want her to heal. To fully heal without a male being the foundation of her coping and healing, (which she has been doing well with that and Im glad) I want Elain to start a huge national park/garden and live happily ever after with her baking and cats or sm.

Admittedly, I love Elucien. I think they would be cute and work well together, however... Wouldn't it be so nice to read about a female MC whose whole plot isnt "WhO wIlL sHe ChOose" and the author/readers tying her worth to a man.

Elain is a wonderful, sweet person. Minimising her to gardens, baking and Elucien vs. Elriel is so ridiculous. She is so mentally strong, and is the perfect balance of light and dark and she's so different from her sisters, so I hope the story line reflects that, rather than her sisters' of self-destruct, angsty emo moments, sexual tension and a surprise mating bond.

I would be LOVE a novella of nothing but Elains adventures on her own/with her friends, deciding she doesn't belong to anyone but herself (WHICH THE ABSENCE OF HER AUTONOMY HAS BEEN SOMETHING OF A TRACK RECORD FOR HER SINCE SHE WAS ELEVEN) and deciding that love isn't all women are fit for.

Not only did she say "I don't want a mate" she also said, "I. dont. Want. A. Male"

M.A.L.E

Elain WANTS to be happily single guys, and wdyk she could be in her hoe era too 🤷🏾‍♀️

Oh well, idk

However, knowing Maas, she would want smut and romance and whatnot in her books.

Though one thing I'm genuinely scared of, is, Maas openly stated she wants to write Az smut. I don't want Elain to end up with Az if its just going to be for funsies and some smut. :(

That would be so powerful to see a gentle, soft, traditionally fem. MC, choose to love and belong to herself rather than a man. Or even Elain starting up another Dusk Court, and healing the land and people and becoming a High Lady who is wise, motherly and a wonderful influence. Idk-- it just would be so cool.

#pro elain #elain acotar #Elain 4 herself #elain supremacy #elain archeron #girlboss fr #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #azriel acotar

[theanonymousopossum]

I'm back from Elriel month with this piece to contribute to #cassianappreciationweek2023, hope you like it!

TW: Cassian is a massive simp for Nesta in this, so if that bothers you move along

Word count: about 1.7 K

The sun was shining brightly in the sky as Cassian hung his sword back on the wall. Training at the House of Wind had been going rather well, with a record number of priestesses showing up for training, and Az had found some time off from whatever tasks Rhys had assigned him to assist with teaching. Az was as broody as ever, his usual quiet demeanor never failing and the air of sadness and mystery that clung to him like an inescapable mist that had been with him since the day they first met way back in the Illyrian training camps still thick in the air. But he had Nesta now, and that made everything okay. Cassian still couldn't believe that he had found his mate. When they were boys, his brothers would always laugh and joke around with him about someday finding a mate, none of them ever believing it would actually happen. But somehow, for some reason, the Mother and the Cauldron and whatever gods dwelt above had smiled down upon him and blessed him with his beautiful Nesta.

As his thoughts swirled around her, as though summoned, Nesta appeared behind him. She was dressed in her black leathers, hair tied in a braided bun atop her head, looking stunning and regal even though she was covered in sweat and blood. He didn't turn to look at her, knowing she was taking her time to admire his shirtless form, which he certainly wasn't going to complain about. He made himself appear busy fixing weapons on the walls, flexing his wings and muscles perhaps just a little more than necessary.

At last, when he couldn't find anything else to pretend to do, he turned around, smirking as he noted her eyes fixed intently upon him.

"See anything you like, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Your tattoos...what do they mean? I know they came after you had completed the Blood Rite, but you never actually told me what they mean," Nesta replied.

Well. Of all the things he was expecting her to ask, that was not one of them. He enjoyed talking about them, though, as anyone else likes to boast about themselves, so he gestured for her to take a seat as he sat down next to her on one of the benches. Everyone else had gone by this point, so it was just him and her.

"All of them mean different things. This one-" he pointed to a symbol that resembled fire, "is for courage. This is given to all those who win the Tournament of Champions."

"Tournament of Champions?"

This was clearly news to Nesta, though that shouldn't have surprised him given her lack of time around Illyria.

"It's a huge tournament hosted once every 20 years, and it falls just before the Blood Rite on the year it happens. Participation isn't mandatory, but nearly everyone does both for bragging rights and the fact they get to beat up other people with no consequences."

If Cassian was honest with himself, he applied largely for the latter, wanting the ability to attack, bruise, and scar all those who had mocked him or bullied him with the assurance that there was nothing they could do to stop him.

"It was held over a 3 day period, everyone breaking off into pairs of two to spar, the victor advancing to the next round. Az and Rhys both elected not to compete, Az due to his hatred of all our customs and Rhys because he was away with the High Lord doing some important thing or another. Anyway, I won the tournament, and the winner gets the tattoo to prove it."

He glanced at Nesta, wondering if perhaps she had zoned out, or had fixed that hawk-eyed stare upon him expressing her displeasure at what she would call behaviour of "Illyrian pigs". However, she appeared greatly intrigued by his stories.

"How fascinating. And this one?"

The one she pointed to resembled one of his favourite constellations, the bow and arrow.

"That one I won after killing a beast that roamed across the mountains. No one is quite sure what it is or where it came from, just that every year it appears, striking camps and slaying villagers. Whoever could finally kill it would win eternal glory. When I was 33, it emerged near our camp. I had been awake all night, I think I was fighting with some idiot over the proper way to hold a spear. Anyway, I heard screaming coming from outside the camp, and ran out with all the others, and there it was. Some call it the Daemonium, but most do not speak its name in fear of summoning it. It stole 6 of the guards away and disappeared off to its cave, and we all knew the hunt was on.

"Most waited at the entrance to its lair, at their demise. It sits at the very edge of a high mountain containing a very gradual slope covered in sharp rocks. Every year we are warned never to wait there, lest it creep up and throw us into them so we may never fly or walk again, but every year there are that large group of idiots who either think they're greater than centuries of others or had one too many drinks or got a dare from someone who despised them, and like clockwork another group was slain. But I did not go there. The monster had to drink, I figured, and so I traced its path from the sky to the river. And there I saw my opportunity."

He took this moment to glance briefly at Nesta, who to his delight and pride was staring, completely transfixed by his tale. He hadn't really had anyone to boast about it to, since he'd already told the story to his family a thousand times and all the Illyrians already knew, but something about telling his mate about his greatest accomplishments made all of the suffering to get them worth it.

"This one-" he pointed to a tattoo that he told everyone was a great mighty beast from myths, deciding that for the first time in his life he would be truthful about it, "this one is a unicorn." Nesta raised an eyebrow at him.

"Rhys, Az and I all got really drunk one night and whoever lost a game of cards had to get the winner's choice marked on them. Azriel, that cheating bastard, I swear used his shadows to change the cards around and see what we all had, but he smashed us by a mile. He made me get a unicorn, likely knowing that I would have to explain what it was to everyone who saw me without a shirt on. Luckily, I can say it was designed after some great beast and nobody questions it."

"These," he waved a calloused hand at the majority of the ink lines that swirled across the planes of his chest, "as you already know, are the markings that those who champion the Blood Rite at our level receive. After it's over, the festivities are immense. All of Windhaven is filled with food and music and games and pretty females and pretty much anything a male could want. Those who made it to Oristian or higher receive a place of honour. Devlon and the other pricks weren't happy that we made it but they didn't really have a choice but to let us in. Rhys' father was thrilled, of course, and his mother treated all of us like her own children. Even Az's mother had been allowed some time out of work to come and see him. I think that was the happiest I've ever seen him, when he was covered in dirt, blood, sweat, and gods only know what else, barely cling on to life, and his mother that he hadn't seen in year came and hugged him." Cassian would deny it if anyone asked, but a small tear appeared in his eye thinking about it. Az hardly every smiled, but he was beaming ear to ear then.

"There's a few other ones on here, one's a bargain with Mor over something stupid from 2 centuries ago, a few are various lucky symbols, none of them particularly important."

"What about this one?" Nesta ran her finger along a design that went from the palm of his hand, circled his wrist, and ended atop his shoulder.

That one was Cassian's favourite, and he had deliberately saved it for last, hoping she would ask about it.

"It's a bond between myself, Rhys, and Az. We made it right before the Blood Rite began. Very few people help others during it, as it's a very cutthroat competition, but we made a pact so that we would always be able to find each other. It worked, too, even though they threw us all in different parts of the forest by the third day we were all together again. And after the Rite, we made an official bargain: we swore never to turn our backs on each other, and that no matter what happened or who came or left our lives, we would always be together, our bond stronger than that of any biological brothers."

Nesta smiled at him, and the bond sang between them. He loved making her smile.

"Thank you for sharing these with me. They tell such a beautiful story. The long and complex tale of my mate."

He smiled, and said, "Are you calling me old?"

"Yes. I am. I'm also saying that you need to go fix that shelf I asked you to, or that long and complex tale will be coming to an end very, very shortly," Nesta snapped, perhaps fearing she had been a little too soft.

"I do love it when you threaten me, Nesta darling," Cassian responded calmly, and they both walked off together.

Taglist: @cassianappreciationweek

#cassian #cassian acotar #cassianappreciationweek2023 #nesta archeron #nessian #nesta x cassian

[cateyesinlove]

@elriel-month prompt; Veil

The Veil Between Life and Death

TW: Death

AO3 link

Azriel had been able to fly them as far as they could from Koschei’s shadows, some of Azriels shadows had turned on them when they had been all alone with them. Illyrians and Valkyries were side by side dealing with his army of undead soldiers and beasts. Feyre and Rhysand lead the court’s armies as temporal High Queen and King, against half of Autumn’s armies under Beron and springs with Tamlain. The ruler of Spring in his madness had struck a deal with the evil entity and had gained incredible power, however, the man now turn beast had finally matched the beast he was on the inside.

“Hold on!” Azirel grunted as another shadow tried to block them from leaving, he decided to start using his winnowing instead of flying, exhausted from having to defend them without the powers of Elain.

They had sneaked with the twins inside the fortress where Vassa was captured. Koschei had been gaining his strength by using the magic of her flames when she was a firebird and had slowly been killing her. Lucien was driven to desperation to get her back and had stuck a bargain with them. He would protect Feyre and give his life for Feyre if needed as long as they did everything they could to free Vassa. They were after all the eyes and ears of the Night Court, they had become the security mechanism for the Night Court since the war started. They couldn’t leave Feyre and Rhys without anyone extremely powerful watching their backs.

They had succeeded in their mission, finding Vassa and sending her with Nuala to Lucien but Koschei had found them. They had given a good fight but after all the power he had it would take more than just them to defeat him, Cerriedwen had been able to escape and so had they until the shadows turned on them and Elain had been unable to protect the shadows or see this coming. Elains damage hadn’t been physical, Koschei had used his magic to mess with Elains head, leaving her feeling broken and poisoned on the inside, drowning in the images of pain and darkness, a darkness like no other, not like Azriel’s darkness this one consumed her and eat her light, her world-shattering with every second. She closed her eyes resting on Azriel.

She felt some water around her the next time she returned from the shattered pieces of her mind. This reminded her so much of her time in the cauldron, no sense of time, no comprehensible thoughts, only images, and flashes, images one after the other.

“Lain,” he whispered trying to wake her up, “my flower, open your eyes,”

Elain felt a pull to reality and opened her eyes, she could see they were in a waterfall and the sun was setting, she could also feel Azriels, his strength and his presence fading, she gasped and pushed herself off him and started examining him, “What happened she demanded”

Azriel smirked and while holding himself with one hand he took the other one and touched his side, the water around them turning pink and shades of red. With shaking hands, she touched it making Azriel wince, “When?”

“Last time we winnowed,” he explained leaning his forehead against her shoulder exhausted, he panted “After you went under, your layer of protection and he was able to infect some of my shadows and strike,” he coughed some blood, Elain could feel it dripping in her back.

Water. They were in the water she could heal him, one of the many spells she had learned of Majda. “I’ll heal you az,” she whispered and lay him down in her lap, “just hold on” she whispered desperation flooding her senses, her magic starting to leak uncontrollably. “You will be okay,” she said closing her eyes and tears running down her cheeks.

He had to be okay, he had to live, he had to be there for everything that was coming their way.

All the happiness, all the love and the good moments and the bad, their wedding and their new house and their babies. Their twins, twins that had arrived almost 5 years early.

“You can’t leave me Az,” she pleaded eyes still close and conjuring the spell in her mind, the water around them should enhance it and be able to cure even the most deadly of wounds. “You have to stay, I need you to stay.” she said trying for her voice not to break. “You are my person, my companion, and my partner, my best friend. You are the only one who sees me Az, the only person who was able to put everything aside and get to know me,”

“Elain,” he whispered, wiping her tears away, “Loving you has been the one thing to bring me pure joy and peace.”

“And we have much more to live together,” she finally opened her eyes and looked at him, she sobbed not being able to contain her pain any longer, amber and brown eyes clashing, two sets that knew the other so well, many stares and flirty glances through the years. Two souls bounded by something just as strong as a mating bond, their choice. Shadows started going crazy around them, almost as if covering them from the world, giving them the privacy they needed for a final goodbye.

“Azriel you can’t leave, please,” she desperately pleaded, “You can’t leave me now that I have you, we were meant for more,”

“The moments I shared with you were worth all of it,” he told her, holding her hand.

After all the heartbreak and pain, the danger, their story couldn’t end here. She wouldn’t let it.

“This can’t be how we part ways,” she said grieving the life they were meant to have, the many paths their story could have gone.

“Don’t cry my love” he whispered his eyes closing and the shadows around them slowing down and falling to the water.

“No, no, no, no!” she screamed sobbing curling her fingers in his hair. “You can’t leave me Azriel, you can’t leave us!” she sobbed burning her face in his hair.

For a moment the water and the wind stop. No noise was made. Absolute and total silence.

She could get him back. She would get him back.

She closed her eyes and started to pray to the mother, to the maiden, and the crone, she included the cauldron in hopes he would bargain for her.

If she could get Azriel back from beyond the veil, crossing the line between life and death. She would be given one chance and no more.

She started chanting in her head, her eyes close, and the madness Koschei forged in her mind gone. She was mad with grief, he had accomplished what he wanted, and his poison in her mind had no more use in her.

The water started glowing and forming a type of motion as if someone was mixing something in a cauldron.

She could hear Cassian and Nesta screaming her name but she ignored them and continued the spell in her head, feeling the water moving around them, creating the door for her.

“ELAIN!” Nesta screamed, her voice so much closer now.

Elain opened her eyes and turned to look at them to show her sister and her mate what was happening, a warning, she knew the view had to be gruesome. Elain was distraught, eyes white and clouded with her powers, glowing as the water circled her while holding Azriels body. Before Nesta could jump into the water Cassian stopped her, holding her close to him and keeping a good grip on her armor.

“Elain! What the actual fuck are you doing!” Nesta screamed eyes full of tears and desperation in her voice, behind them she could see some Valkyries, girls Azriel had personally trained. Emerie and Gwyn, the Illyrian woman holding her mate close to her, tears in both of their eyes and Gwyn sobbing leaning into her.

“ I’m bringing him back” She whispered with a broken voice knowing her voice would reach them either way.

“You will die Elain!” Cassian yelled at her holding Nesta as she was almost on the floor crying out of anger and desperation at this point.

“I’m getting him back,” she said as she gently lay Azriel down in the water and kissed his cheek, she turned to them and smiled with tears running down her eyes, still clouded with power. “Take care of him,” she whispered and closed her eyes walking to the center of the lake where a circle of water opened, a door to the other side of the veil, to where she would find him. A white owl flew from the forest and landed on Elains shoulder, he looked at her and flew right into the door in the water urging her to follow, she took the first step into the door and as she advance, she felt the water covering the entrance.

#acotar #elain archeron #elriel #pro elain #pro elriel #pro elain archeron #azriel #elriel fic #elriel month 23

[comfortfiction]

TW:// abusive parents, abuse, sexual assault 

So...a random account on Twitter start fighting Elriels today talking about how most of us hate Mor and how Elain is an abusive piece of shit. When they tried to explain why they agree Elain should’ve done more, but that there’s more nuance to it than that, they started mocking the Elriel fans own abused background. I’m not sure what their Tumblr is but they seem to mostly be on here from what they were posting, just be careful when engaging with this person cause they seem to be very triggering. This is a fictional series guys, no one should be belittling someones abuse over fictional fae. Stay safe out there and enjoy the books as they were meant to be enjoyed. 

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #mor #elain archeron #feyre archeron #acosf #a court of silver flames #sjm

[fuckmelifesucks]

LET ME TELL YOU BEFOREHAND THAT THIS IS NOT ABOUT SHIPS OR AGAINST ANY CHARACTER.

Let's make something very clear.

Azriel rescuing Gwyn

= decent person action.

≠ them being mates.

Azriel killing the hybern soldiers

= they were enemies and invading nc territory and had terrorized the priestesses and the temple and were filthy assholes who SA'd a female.

≠ he showed mate behaviour cuz of what they did to Gwyn.

Azriel handing over Gwyn to Mor

= she was traumatized and violated by males.

≠ using it as a argument for the shipwar.

Azriel going to the temple

= ordered to do so cuz of the attack and to try and save everyone there.

≠ instinct to protect his 'mate'.

I have been seeing many people trying to use Azriel's rescue of Gwyn as argument in the shipwar. I think people have already commented on it earlier but i also wanted to give a piece of my mind on this. And it's not aimed at a specific fandom.

Ship whoever you want but for the love of all things good, stop trying to use Gwyn, her sa and her rescue by azriel as argument to win a ship war.

Stop saying that Azriel rescued Gwyn cuz of some dormant mating bond he felt( i have seen posts of this, wish I had ss). He saved her because that was what any decent person would have done mating bond or not. If he hadn't then he'd be the biggest asshole to be known.

Azriel killed those bastards cuz again they deserved it. We don't know if it was some mating bond instinct roaring in him to do so and so please don't consider it. Those hybern assholes deserved it. And maybe if they are mates then wonderful but we don't know it. So just stop saying that. Cuz again those bastards deserved to die for all they did to the temple and the priestesses. And him killing them was the least he could've done. It was the right thing to do. And the way people imply the mating bond for the two in this scene almost makes it seem like people think he wouldn't have killed those bastards if it hadn't been for the supposed mating bond.

And lastly, yes he handed her over to mor immediately. And he covered her too. Because he was again doing the descent thing. And cuz he knew she was traumatized and violated by males. And he was a male. The last thing she would've wanted was to be around a male. And Azriel knew she didn't want to be around a male so he did the decent thing and handed her over to mor.

If azriel hadn't done all the above in the manner he did, he wouldn't have been a decent person at all. From what we know till now, he was only doing the right thing by doing what he did and was being a decent person with a good conscience. Not because of some dormant mating bond.

So please stop trying to drag her SA into the shipwar. It's awful, disturbing and disgusting. And disrespectful to all the real life SA survivers.

#acotar #acosf #gwyneth berdara #gwyn berdara #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn acotar #gwynriel #elriel #dont anyone dare argue with me on this one #tw sa

[merymoonbeam]

I’m sorry, but you elriels are being genuinely ridiculous about the gwynriel art.

People are allowed to artistically depict events that happen in the books, even the traumatic ones. To say that they’re exploiting SA for profit is an insanely absurd take. Do you say that of SJM, who has written multiple SA scenes, and has a net worth of 40 million dollars? What happens when the ACOTAR TV show depicts Gwyn’s SA on the big screen, to millions of people around the world, and rakes in huge profits as a result? Or, what if instead, SJM decided to publish ACOSF as a graphic novel, a comic book, or a webtoon? Real storytelling mediums that exist, and display the exact same traumatic events as a normal book would - but in visual form. If anything, some would argue that describing SA in text is more triggering, as using detailed words to describe an assault creates an uncensored and undiluted imagery in your mind - whereas a visual depiction is usually much more censored and toned down. So what exactly is your issue…?

Like it or not, Azriel did rescue Gwyn that day. It forms a pivotal part of Gwyn’s story. Yes, elriels are correct in saying that the scene isn’t romantically coded - but what’s your point? What does that matter? You claim that gwynriels are ‘romanticising’ this scene, when literally no one is doing that. People can recognise that an event is deeply traumatic and disturbing, but still feel fondness, admiration and respect towards Azriel for saving Gwyn that day. Appreciation for Azriel’s heroic actions doesn’t suddenly mean that people think that scene was sexy or cute or hot.

It’s literally no different to all the art of Rhys rescuing Feyre on her wedding day to Tamlin. And, I also don’t see any elriels complaining about all the suggestive art of Feyre and Rhys UTM; where he drugged her, touched and kissed her without consent, twisted her already broken arm, and forced her to dance provocatively in a near-naked state. I also don’t see complaints about the countless art pieces of Rowan punching Aelin.

You guys don’t actually care about any of this, you just want a reason to shit on gwynriels. Because if you did care about respectful portrayal of SA, you wouldn’t be making theories about Gwyn being evil and ‘luring’ Azriel, you wouldn’t be pushing the narrative that Gwyn can’t be with Azriel because she hasn’t healed from her SA, and you wouldn’t be making jokes about how Azriel ‘didn’t even save Gwyn that day’ and just ‘passed her to Mor,’ as if one of the most awful and traumatic events to happen to Gwyn had to centre around another man anyway?

And even beyond all of this, it’s a fictional book. Bullying and ganging up on real artists, who are real people (and possibly even SA survivors themselves) is genuinely gross.

oh boy...get a life for reals.

let's explain this bit by bit.

TW: SA and other things. keep in mind.

Real storytelling mediums that exist, and display the exact same traumatic events as a normal book would - but in visual form. If anything, some would argue that describing SA in text is more triggering, as using detailed words to describe an assault creates an uncensored and undiluted imagery in your mind - whereas a visual depiction is usually much more censored and toned down. So what exactly is your issue…?

with writing sarah is giving gwyn a background and life story that was explained in the book. people go into these books expecting it to be "adult" books with triggers. ngl sarah's books should have a trigger warning page for her books but mostly traditional published books don't have trigger page for it and that's another issue in book marketing. but with that gwyn fanart or the way gwyn's trauma explained by the g stans it is not "showing" gwyn's trauma. it is made to be about Azriel and Gwynriel. how "passionate" it was (yes this is the word that handprint fanart artist used) and how their story started when she was raped. the scene wasn't about gwynriel or azriel as I keep saying it. if people wanna artistically depict events they can do this without making Gwyn's trauma about gwynriel or gushing over how Azriel and making him naked in the fanarts when in the actual book gwyn was raped, her sister was killed, probably other bodies laying in the background.... it was Gwyn's trauma. think about that.

Like it or not, Azriel did rescue Gwyn that day. It forms a pivotal part of Gwyn’s story. Yes, elriels are correct in saying that the scene isn’t romantically coded - but what’s your point? What does that matter? You claim that gwynriels are ‘romanticising’ this scene, when literally no one is doing that.

let's give examples..

1.Azriel is always naked while holding gwyn which never happened and the girl literally couldn't be in the same room as a male bc of her trauma but yeah let's make azriel naked in all those fanarts and him holding gwyn

2.writing possionate and emotional in the fanarts when it was fucking traumatic for gwyn.

these should be enough. these are literally romanticizing the scene. and what does it matter? g stans are literally romanticizing sa scene that was traumatic for gwyn into something "meet cute" and when SA survivors say how triggerring that fanart is the artist deletes the comments?

People can recognise that an event is deeply traumatic and disturbing, but still feel fondness, admiration and respect towards Azriel for saving Gwyn that day. Appreciation for Azriel’s heroic actions doesn’t suddenly mean that people think that scene was sexy or cute or hot.

you can do this while not romanticizing the scene and writing how passionate it was or make azriel naked in the fanarts with holding gwyn when the girl couldn't be in the same space with a male...maybe respect the girl's trauma but they only "respect" her trauma when they can use it againts elriels as a weapon.

It’s literally no different to all the art of Rhys rescuing Feyre on her wedding day to Tamlin.

are you for real? that's all I'm gonna say for that.

And, I also don’t see any elriels complaining about all the suggestive art of Feyre and Rhys UTM; where he drugged her, touched and kissed her without consent, twisted her already broken arm, and forced her to dance provocatively in a near-naked state. I also don’t see complaints about the countless art pieces of Rowan punching Aelin.

are they making it out to be something passionate and I don't see fanarts of that scene everyday making rhys naked and holding feyre right after she was raped? this is like comparing apples and pears. Those are not the same. that scene really happened in the book. and people are potreying that scene. with gwyn fanart they are altering the scene to get a gwynriel point and make azriel hold gwyn when it didn't happen that way. and I only saw one fanart of rowan and aelin and it is by an artist I do not support anymore bc they are already bad and they are already profiting by Rhys' SA....

You guys don’t actually care about any of this, you just want a reason to shit on gwynriels. Because if you did care about respectful portrayal of SA, you wouldn’t be making theories about Gwyn being evil and ‘luring’ Azriel, you wouldn’t be pushing the narrative that Gwyn can’t be with Azriel because she hasn’t healed from her SA, and you wouldn’t be making jokes about how Azriel ‘didn’t even save Gwyn that day’ and just ‘passed her to Mor,’ as if one of the most awful and traumatic events to happen to Gwyn had to centre around another man anyway?

did you know that there are SA survivors who are also bad? do you know that there are people who are sexually assaulted can assault someone later in life? not that I'm saying gwyn will do these bc we know she won't but my point is you can't go around saying if a person is SA survivor they can't do nothing wrong...they can. it is normal life. people can be triggered by little things and it can cause them to do something bad.

Gwyn can be a gray character like all of Sarah's characters and can do something bad and for the luring part...luring can happen without it being sexually. Rhys was sexually assaulted for years but he can alter people's mind and make them do whatever he wants. Gwyn is a SA survivor and she can still be gray character.

and for not being "healed" from her SA. we never said that. we said that as far as canon goes Gwyn doesn't show that she is ready for a sexual relationship with the way she returned to library where she went in the first place bc of her trauma at the end of the book.

also who is joking about azriel saving her? we are just stating a fact that g stans cannot get it right. he saved her that day but he didn't hold her in his arms or touch her in anyway. he passed her to mor who gwyn was probably more comfortable in the moment with a female and I keep repeating Gwyn was so traumatized that she couldn't be in the same room with a male for two years and it took nesta getting cassian to the library to make her decide to sign up for the training even after that when azriel joined them cassian noted how he should have talked with gwyn first and later in the book they talk to her about another males joining them for training with the blood rite qualifiers.

And even beyond all of this, it’s a fictional book. Bullying and ganging up on real artists, who are real people (and possibly even SA survivors themselves) is genuinely gross.

beyond all of this, it's a fictional book. Making fanart and romanticizing the SA scene for a ship and when SA survivors say they were triggered by it and deleting the comments and blocking people is genuinely gross. that's all.

#anon ask #ummm...wtf

[shallyne]

SJM Romance Week Day One

Two Fates, One Day | Chapter 1

My fic for @sjmromanceweek edited by @midnightgoldstone (thank you so so so much ❤️)

Words: 1530

Elriel meets when they are out with their younger siblings! Pls be prepared: Roles are reversed to canon and age gaps are bigger!

TW: mention and implication of neglect

Elain promised her little sister to go to the playground with her. Even though Elain is thoroughly exhausted, she keeps to her promise. There she meets someone from school she rarely talks to, but has a big crush on

Elain was utterly exhausted as she walked down the street to the playground, Feyre holding her hand and babbling about her day in kindergarten. She just half-listened to her little sister, as exhausted as Elain was, it was hard to focus on both Feyre and their surroundings. The night before she was up until the early hours studying for a morning exam. She'd rather have gone home to take a nap but she had promised Feyre that they would go to the playground today and Elain couldn't deny her that. She behaved perfectly and she had problems making friends, so she wanted to take Feyre to the playground, in hope that she could make at least one friend. For the longest time it was beyond Elain why everyone seemed to avoid her little sister until she saw a group of mothers whispering when she helped Feyre put on her jacket. It dawned on her that Elain was the problem - they thought she was a teen mom. Luckily, Feyre didn't realize how they whispered or how they pulled their kids away from them, she was still excited to go there. 

Elain and Feyre walked down a short dirt path that led to the playground. Elain tightened the hair tie on Feyres' braid again and then told her she could go play but she grabbed the hem of Elain's cardigan. "Feyre, what's going on?" she asked, worried. "You were so excited." Feyre just shrugged and looked to the ground. 

Elain forced a smile on her face and said, "How about you go play and we get ice cream after?" 

"I don't want ice cream," Feyre said. Elain put a hand on Feyre's forehead but her temperature seemed normal. She also didn't seem to be sick. Usually Feyre loved ice cream, that's how Elain got her to eat her vegetables. "Feyre." Elain said softly. 

"Last time a boy told me that my shoes were ugly," she said quietly and looked away. Elains gaze wandered to her sister's shoes. They were quite old but they were still intact and they were far from ugly. "Then that boy is stupid!" Elain said annoyed, not at her sister but at the boy. "Your shoes are really pretty, I wish I could wear them." 

"Really?" Feyre asked. Elain nodded. "You're lucky that they aren't my size or I would steal them from you!" 

Feyre giggled and threw her arms around Elain, who kissed the top of her sisters head and said, "You go play and when you want to go, we go." Feyre nodded, "Okay." She smiled and turned around, hurrying to the swingset. 

Elain sat down on the bench that was nearest to the swing, keeping an eye on Feyre. A few minutes later she was digging through her bag, looking for her water bottle. She knew that Feyre would be thirsty when she came back. As she did so, someone behind her cleared his throat and she turned her head. Oh God was her only thought when she looked into beautiful hazel eyes. There stood Azriel, a guy she knew from her high school. They shared some classes and got into short conversations from time to time. She was glad that they were short or else Azriel would know without a doubt that she had a crush on him. 

"Azriel!" she smiled. "What are you doing here?" 

A faint smile bloomed on his mouth and he nodded to the slide on the other side of the playground. "I'm babysitting my brother today," he said. "It looks like you're doing the same with your sister." 

Elain only nodded and slid to the side to make room for Azriel and the bench. She wouldn't explain now that she was the only one who took care of Feyre. After their parents died, Elain and Nesta took on the role, but then Nesta went to college and that left only Feyre and herself. "What a coincidence," Elain only said. 

Azriel sat down and looked around for his brother, Elain did the same and looked at Feyre. She sat on a swing but she wasn't swinging, a little boy around her age was standing with her. "Is that your brother?" Elain asked Azriel. He looked at her, in the direction she pointed. He smiled and nodded "Yes, that's him. He can talk a lot, I'll get him-" 

"No," Elain said, catching his arm when Azriel leaned forward to stand up. "Don't, she looks happy." 

He leaned back again and his eyes wandered to where her hand still rested on his arms. She quickly pulled away, pretty sure that a blush crept onto her cheeks she avoided any eye contact. 

"They both look happy." Azriel said. Elain watched the kids as Azriel’s brother said something to Feyre and she giggled. "They do," she agreed. "Do you -" she turned back to Azriel and cleared her throat. *Do you think we could do this again? I mean, for the kids. Feyre doesn't have many friends and she seems to have fun with him."

Azriel looked at her for a moment until he nodded. "Yes, sure. Rhys will be excited," he said and took his phone out of his pocket. Elain followed the movement of his fingers with her eyes as he typed in something and then held his phone out to her, "You can give me your number and we can stay in contact." 

Elain smiled and took his phone, typing in her number. As she gave his phone back, their fingers brushed for a quick moment. She let her hair fall in front of her face, hoping he couldn't see her blush. Just when she was about to turn back, Feyre came running back. She held onto Elain's leg as she tried to catch her breath. "Hey," Elain smiled. "You look like you had fun." Feyre threw her a bright smile and nodded, "I made a friend!" 

"You made a friend!" Elain said excitedly and pulled her little sister into a hug. She picked her up and sat Feyre on her lap as she looked for the water again. As she did that, her gaze wandered to Azriel and his brother, the boy wildly gesturing with his arms as he told Azriel how far he pushed Feyre on the swing. Elain gave Feyre the bottle and she took a little sip, then leaned her head against Elains shoulder. She was exhausted. Tired. Elain already knew the signs, could tell if she was tired or hungry or had to pee by how Feyre acted. "Are you tired?" Elain asked and to her surprise, Feyre nodded. Elain smiled at Azriel apologetically as she stood up, carrying Feyre. "We'll have to go home now, she's tired." 

Azriel smiled, "Of course. It was nice to meet you." 

Elain opened her mouth to say goodbye but Azriel's brother, Rhys, jumped up. "No!" he said. "Wait!" 

"Rhys." Azriel warned but the boy ran to Elain. "Don't go!" 

Elain crouched down, to be at eye level with him. So he'd be at eye level with Feyre. "It's not goodbye forever, you can play again! You wouldn't want to play when you're tired, right?" 

He shook his head. "No." Elain nodded. "Exactly, so Feyre sleeps and you can play again another time." 

The boys scratched his head and his striking blue eyes wandered from Feyre to Elain. His brows furrowed and he asked, "You promise?" 

"I promise!" Elain said. Rhys turned around to Azriel and waited. "I promise," Azriel echoed. That seemed to relax him and he nodded, still in thought until Feyre reached out her arm towards him. He hurried to her and threw his arms around Feyre. "Goodbye Feyre!" 

Feyre muttered something that sounded like a tired "Bye Rhys." 

Elain stood up and nodded to Azriel. "I'll see you," she said and walked from the playground. She adjusted Feyre on her hip and her bag on the other shoulder. 

When they arrived in their little apartment, Elain made a quick job of changing Feyre's clothes and putting her down for a nap. She was so exhausted that she was asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow. 

Exhausted herself, Elain wandered to the couch. She walked past the fridge and though her stomach grumbled, she didn't bother looking inside, knowing that she'd find it empty. She let herself fall on the old leather and groaned. She wished she wouldn't have told Nesta to go to college, that Elain would be fine, that she could take care of Feyre alone, but Elain had said it. Said it because she was scared of the alternative: asking Nesta to stay and she'd go either way. So Elain ignored the fact that the outcome would have been the same, dreaming about a different life. Hope. 

She sighed and picked up her phone when it vibrated, reading the message of an unknown number. 

>> Hi, it's Azriel. I know the message comes pretty quick but I wanted to ask if you want to come over on Saturday. Rhys is already asking non-stop about your sister

Another message

>> & I'd like to see you again

She smiled. Elain was a big fan of hope. 

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #feyre archeron #feyre #feyre cursebreaker #high lady of the night court #rhysand #rhys #feysand #high lady feyre #pro elriel #elriel #elain kingslayer #elain archeron #elain #elain acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #elriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #elriel fic #acotar fic #sjmromanceweek2023

[elazrielbook]

tw: mention of sa

gwyn stans: you guys are so mysoginistic and disrespectful for expressing distaste for nsfw gwynriel art

gwyn stans:

drag elain constantly for her feminity constantly and hate her purely because azriel has feelings for her and not gwyn

look down on feyre and the 'female characters becoming mothers' trope while simultaneously using gwyns anatomy to claim shes azriels endgame because she can have his kids and ruling elain out completely because why on earth would a man be with a woman if she cant have his kids?😐

refer to yrene as nothing but a fuck buddy when she had a massive role in the end battle

insult elain as useless after she's done several important things for the main plot (while gwyn has done zero)

claim that mor is the bad guy for 'leading azriel on' when she showed absolutely no interest in him for 500 years. its his own fault he couldn't take the hint, not hers.

reduced gwyns trauma to a romance plotline so that her and azriel can 'heal together🥺' as if she can't heal herself

romanticised gwyns sexual assault and rescue from it to depict it as a gwynriel interaction

claim that azriel is creepy and predatory but continue to ship him with gwyn, showing that they would ship her with someone even if they think he's disgusting

attacked feysand for flirting in a priestesses safe space even though they didn't actually do anything...and then proceeded to make nsfw gwynriel art in said priestesses safe space. even when gwyn herself went BACK to that library and stayed because shes clearly not fully healed from her trauma.

but yall complain that WE'RE the villains for expressing the nsfw art is slightly icky considering the female character is a sexual assault survivor being drawn with a man she has shown zero sexual interest in. its not that sa survivors can't have sex...its simply weird to continually depict them having sex with someone they don't want. and she doesn't want him.

and before yall argue, NO there is no canon evidence that gwyn wants azriel. in any way. and if yall come in here with the stupid ass 'you're the new ribbon az' quote that yall cling to im going to scream. friendly banter does not equal romantic coding.

and before yall gwyn fans come in with "well im an sa survivor and i say-" okay, so am i? so are alot of elain stans? and elriels? sexual assault is not confined to gwyn stans, so please stop acting like yall get to dictate what is okay and what isn't - im not. im not telling yall what to do. im just explaining why you should stop getting mad when we complain. absolutely nobody is saying she cant be sexual after her trauma, we're just saying you could at least be considerate enough to wait until she shows some romantic interest in someone to start forcing sexuality onto her character.

to reiterate - i am not saying "stop drawing gwynriel nsfw art". i am simply telling you that some people have and will find it uncomfortable and that is completely valid. so when people complain about it, you cant just go around insulting and villainising them. to make someone seem like the bad guy for complaining about something as delicate as this is really harmful. stop.

#acotar #azriel #acosf #sjm #acotar fandom #azriel shadowsinger #gw*nriel #gw*n #anti gw*nriel #anti gwynriel #acotar spoilers #gw*nriel art #a court of silver flames #sarah j maas #elain archeron #pro elain #acotar fanart