#you know I couldn't help but include a scene between the only two good Autumn Court boys

[florencemtrash]

Brown Eyed Beauty — Lucien x Reader

Fond, childhood memories are few and far between for Lucien. But he's reminded of every good thing when he looks at you.

Author's note: DAMNIT! Brown eyes deserve to be treated with the same tender reverence as any other color. This one is for all the brown eyed beauties (and Lucien lovers) out there.

There was a hidden stream Eris had taken him fishing once, back when he was a stringy child with two eyes and soft hands.

“You’ll need to build up your strength and the calluses on your palms, then the fish won’t be able to slip out of your grasp so easily.” Eris told him, standing up to his knees in the gentle current, pant legs rolled up with the ends dripping. His body was slim as a reed, but strong, and on the cusp of adulthood. Pale bruises were scattered across a pale, freckled chest, purple, green, and yellow.

Lucien watched with bated breath as Eris tracked a shiny, silver-pink body darting between the rocks, his eyes untricked by the bending of sunlight as it dove into the water. 

There. 

Eris leaned down and dipped his hands into the stream with lightning swiftness. “Gotcha.” 

His hands broke the water. The salmon writhed, fighting with every gasping breath and splashing water onto Eris’s already soaking trousers.

“Here.” Eris stretched his arms out to where Lucien stood in the shallows. The salmon was giving up, the rhythm of its whipping body slowing. “It’s tired. Try holding it now.” 

Lucien held on for five seconds before the tail slapped him across the face, startling him so much he dropped the fish and its scaly, sleek body began to race downstream.

“No!” Lucien dove for it, red hair slipping under clear waters. The current was stronger than he expected, or maybe it was just that he was weaker than his brother. He felt something pulling downward, keeping him submerged.

His first response was to panic, to flail his arms and legs out uselessly. But then he stopped. It was peaceful down here, the water so clear that he could catch every grain of sand splashed over brick-brown rocks like stars. Tiny fishes, silky smooth with beady eyes, darted in and out of crevices. Light behaved differently underwater, fragmenting and casting lovely golden shapes on stones the color of fresh-pressed coffee. 

Here it was calm. Here was a place where Beron’s power couldn’t touch him. Here he was safe. 

A strong hand grasped the back of his shirt, hauling him up soaking and sputtering with a brackish taste sliding down his throat. 

The bruises on Eris’s cheekbones stood out on his pale skin, the fright in his eyes turning to anger. 

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Eris yelled and all but tossed his sopping body onto a yellowing patch of grass. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucien mumbled. He sat, shivering in the Autumn chill until Eris caught another salmon and assembled sticks in a neat circle of sand, lighting it with a snap of his slender fingers. 

“Tomorrow we’ll come back,” Eris promised as Lucien sank his teeth into the juicy, pink flesh. The skin was perfectly crisp and grease dribbled down his chin hot and slick. Eris wiped it away with a soft swatch of moss. “I’ll teach you to swim properly.” 

He didn’t seem to mind the descending cold, and for that Lucien was grateful. It meant he would get to keep Eris’s shirt until his was finished drying on the cracked log. 

But unbeknownst to them, Beron had come home earlier than anticipated with their other brothers. Eris was whipped ten times for leaving the Forest House unattended and Lucien was locked in his room for three days. They never went back to that stream — at least not together — and Lucien learned to swim on his own in less forgiving waters. 

Lucien still clung onto the memories of that day. Good memories from his childhood were far and few between. 

“You’re staring again.” You sighed contentedly and shifted in the little cradle of earth you’d claimed for youself. Yellowing, waist-high grasses swayed above you, occasionally bowing down with slender fingers to tickle your cheeks. A hundred yards away the Sidra tumbled over stones, rolled onto gray-sand beaches. The air tasted of salt and seaweed. Crisp, tangy, clear. 

“How did you know?” Lucien asked, and you could hear the gentle caress of his smile in the words.

You cracked open your eyes against the sun’s assault high in the midafternoon sky. Sure enough, Lucien was staring at you, golden eye whirring. You ran a languid finger down the bond, light and airy as a kiss. He braced his arms by your head, sinking down until his body was pressed flush against yours. 

You smiled. “I can feel it. It’s my special talent.”

“Oh?” Lucien chuckled.

“I’ve cultivated it over the years. A product of having a brute like you chase after me like a hound goes after a fox.” Not that you’d ever gone far. 

Scarlet strands of hair slipped out of the braid you’d arranged hours ago. They hung around his elegant, scarred face like liquid fire, casting a warm glow onto his already tanned skin. You tucked them back behind his sharp ears. Traced the curve of his bones until he was leaning into your touch.

“You wound me,” he murmured, kissing your palms. 

You blushed, feeling the brush of his full lips against your sensitive skin. “I didn’t mean it.” 

He smiled — a crooked, boyish smile. “I know.” 

He looked into your coffee eyes. The light bent differently when they touched your irises, curving around the bends like honey, cutting amber crescents at the edges of their rich color. You closed and opened them slowly, letting the light pour in like cream into coffee, swirling and setting them aflame. 

Lucien was back in that stream. The world was still. There was nothing that could hurt him. Just clarity, peace, and the riverbed glittering beneath him. 

“I love you, Y/n.”

#lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #lucien acotar #eris vanserra #you know I couldn't help but include a scene between the only two good Autumn Court boys #Eris Vanserra has untapped potential to become the next Rhysand and no I will not change my mind #this man is a goldmine and has done everything to protect himself and his family from beron #fuck beron he can rot in hell

[baejax-the-great]

I have genuinely spent countless hours with nothing but All That Glitters on the brain since like mid December. As it comes to a close I just wanted to thank you for your writing. I’ve gotten so much happiness from it. (And also sadness but in a good, escapism-y way). I don’t think i’ve ever been so attached to a fic before. So sad to see this story end but grateful to have been blessed with ever encountering it in the first place. ❤️❤️

🎽👟🥇🐕

Thank you for this lovely message, Nonnie. I'm going to use it as an excuse to ramble way too long instead of writing the epilogue.

When I wrote even if it's a lie, I played around with a lot of tragic backstories for Achilles, though mostly non-seriously. I didn't really plan on including it--his relationship with Pat was basically comic relief. I wasn't even going to have it in eiial other than allusions to his fame and his clear fall from whatever fame that was, but a couple people asked, so I decided to have him give the abridged version to Zag.

Someone said they would read it if I ever elaborated on that story, and I remember thinking, lol I'm never writing that. Partly because at the time I assumed that painting Achilles in such a negative light just wouldn't go over well. But I also didn't really have an angle for how I wanted to tell that story, so it didn't interest me.

I don't totally remember how/when I came up with the plot for Gold, but I know @johaerys-writes was the one who really encouraged me to write it and I think @juliafied helped me with it a lot. I believe I posted the first chapter the day before I went out of town on what would be the first of many trips this autumn/winter. It's one of very few fics I wrote on google docs, mostly on my ipad because I don't own a laptop.

I think I was only a chapter or two into Gold when I started writing what is still titled in my docs as "Post-Gold." This fic ended up being such an interesting challenge because I had written what happens before and what happens after, and now I had over 20 years to cover to explain it all.

Here's what I knew at the start.

1. Patroclus got thrown out of his house the minute he got home from Seoul.

2. Achilles sets his own life on fire and Patroclus takes the blame for it, resulting in Achilles moving to Tartarus in shame and not returning until 2022 with Zagreus.

3. Because I'd already written it in eiial, the first time Patroclus sees Achilles in years, the first thing he does is make out with him. (I regretted this one a lot, but hopefully I made it work 🤣)

4. A 39yo got a silver medal in the javelin at the 2020 Olympics. As a result, one of the first lines I wrote was "Take me to Paris, Achilles." That entire scene changed, but I kept the line.

So then it was a game of filling in what actually happened (so much math to figure out the years and their ages lmao), and figuring out how to show the journey of two men growing up, growing apart, and then putting their lives back together. All the years were written out of order, which is why the different sections start the way they do-- originally it was just a system to help me keep track of what year it was and make sure I covered each one.

And with all of that, I thought this fic was going to be shorter than Gold. I figured each year would just be a snapshot--maybe 500-800 words to get a sense of it. Short and sweet.

I'm an idiot, of course. Just the reconciliation that took all of three sentences in eiial required over 15k words for this fic, and it could have been longer.

It was so fun to imagine all these eras of their life. I went from writing about guys who were much younger than me to men who were older than me. The way the world has changed between the year 2000 and the year 2022 is kind of astounding. Someone asked me why the boys couldn't just text each other in Gold and it's because it hadn't really been invented yet. We barely had wifi. They would have had an answering machine at their first apartment they shared with a goofy message recorded together.

To make a long, unnecessary essay short, this fic went from something I had no enthusiasm for and was certain I wouldn't write, to something I'm really proud of. I'm going to miss it.

I was talking recently with someone about this fic from Achilles' perspective-- over the 22 years, which moments would he pick as important in their lives for better or worse, and how many of them would match up with Pat's. I have no intention of writing that story, but it certainly would be a way to sit in this universe a little longer.

#sorry to wriet a whole long essay #but I hate finishing fics I hate saying goodbye #anyway I started writing the interview fic today #Achilles admitting to the world that not only was his first kiss with Pat caught on live tv #it was his first kiss with anyone ever #he was such a cutie