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this got Numbers on twitter so i’m posting here cause i literally have nothing else going on but working on my webcomic which you can read here and support here
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S𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝑴𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑬𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏 🌌💗
Krissy, Amanda, and I are so thrilled to finally be able to share this art! The lovely wictorian_art did such an incredible job drawing Elain and Lucien. The charged looks, tension, and angst in this art is top tier 🤌
Thank you so much wictorian_art for creating this magnificent artwork. It’s always a pleasure to work with you! 💗💗
Commissioned by @amandapearls, @norabraveseeker, and myself Artist is: wictorian_art Characters belong to @sjmaas
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Kicked this around for years, never found a chapter 2 I like yet. But it's been sitting for sooooooooo long, so I'm putting it out there.
Also, embarrassingly, I spelled Graysen's name wrong and had to go back and fix it.
When You Were Mine
"I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you."
Graysen's face crumpled. He stepped towards her and she caught her breath as he said, "And mine to you."
Rhysand was talking. Elain heard his voice, but his words were nothing. Nolan was talking. Their voices were loud and angry, but their words blurred and slipped away. Graysen crossed the space between them to take her hand. All the fear, the doubts she'd been holding on to tumbled away. He still loved her.
Nesta gripped her shoulder. Squeezing Graysen's hand she turned to her sister.
"Elain?"
"Yes?"
"Are you listening? Lord Nolan agreed to provide sanctuary for as many humans as can get here, but not you."
Elain's eyelashes clung together, thick from grateful tears. She looked at Graysen. He cast a look full of hostility at his father and turned back to her.
"We’ll leave. Together," he told her.
"You can come with us," Feyre spoke clearly, loudly. As if she wanted Graysen's hateful father to hear the kindness she was offering. But Graysen shook his head.
"No, Elain. I won't live among fae. They're evil. You, you were trapped by them. Trapped in a fae body. But your heart, your mind could never be fae," he shot a hate filled look at Rhysand's court standing inside the walls of his father's fortress. "We leave together. We'll make a home together here."
A cold uneasiness began to pool inside her, but Graysen lifted her hand to his mouth. He kissed the finger that wore the iron engagement ring and the warmth from it filled her body counteracting the chill in her stomach. She nodded at him.
He told her to tell her sisters goodbye, that they wouldn't see them again. It was awful. Feyre looked like she was going to throw up. Nesta had lunged for Graysen, screaming. Azriel had caught her, his shadows restraining her, holding her safely to him as she raged at Graysen. She didn't think Rhysand would ever forgive her, for leaving and hurting Feyre while doing it. But she caught the way Azriel looked at her before he winnowed an uncontrollable Nesta away and knew that even though he didn't like it, Azriel understood it.
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Graysen's father had thrown everyone out, fae and his son, not even allowing Graysen to take any of his belongings. He told them he'd been the one to provide everything for Graysen and that he'd be damned if Graysen shared any of that with a fae. He also said the next time he saw any fae on his property he'd fire ash arrows at them. He smiled too widely at Elain when he said it. She'd shivered. Graysen had merely glanced at his father and shook his head in disgust. But then he squeezed Elain's hand and led her away.
He ran his hand sheepishly through his hair as they walked, admitting he'd never planned for a life outside of his father's property and that he wasn't certain yet where they would go. But he promised to take care of her, to love her. A quick gloom covered his face.
"I don't know anyone who will marry us now. Now that people see you as a fae, Elain. They won't get it. Your body's been changed, but that could never change who you are. You're the sweetest woman I've ever known. I'd like," he paused, ducking his head, "I'd like to marry us, right here, right now. Elain, would that be all right?"
She laughed, nodding, and his face lit up. Right there in the middle of a dusty path, shaded by green trees and surrounded by ragged wildflowers of yellows and whites and pale purples, Graysen had them exchange vows and laced his fingers through hers. Birds overhead chirped in soft approvals as Elain was kissed for the first time by her husband.
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No one would take them in. They slept in soft grasses on the far edges of local farms, moonlight covering them. She reveled in the way Graysen gasped each night when she slipped out of her clothes for him. The way his hungry eyes would gobble up the sight of her naked for him. He might claim to hate the fae body she'd been forced to take, but the eager, greedy way he touched her let her know he liked the way she looked now. Graysen would take her fast, kissing on her flawless skin, sliding his hands over her curves, until he spilled into her and then he would fall asleep.
She would lay awake, happy with the slickness between her legs because it was proof. Proof that Graysen loved her, had made her his wife. But it was Feyre that would cross her mind. It had been impossible not to overhear the sounds Feyre and Rhysand had made when they were together. And while Graysen sometimes made sounds that reminded her of Rhysand's, she never made sounds like the ones Feyre had made. So she would lay and watch Graysen sleep and wonder why.
Even when they finally found a place, a small abandoned hut Graysen said they could fix up together, she would lay awake after sex and wonder why.
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"What was that?" he asked.
"I don't know. A nightmare," Elain shook her head.
"It was like you left. You were here, but you weren't."
Elain trembled softly, "I saw you."
Graysen laughed. "Because I'm right in front of you."
Elain shivered and pulled her cloak higher. "You're right. I'm sorry."
She didn't tell him. She told herself it was the stress of the last couple months. And she shoved the image of what she'd seen Graysen doing with a curly haired brunette out of her mind.
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Graysen found work with his mother's side of the family eventually. They heard how the war had been barely won, but even with the loss of so many townsmen, no one was willing to hire a man married to a fae, except some family from his mother's side. The pay was small, but it was only the two of them. It turned out her life from before came in useful. Elain knew how to scavenge, finding plants she remembered as safe to eat and would bring them home. She cleared the land near their home while Graysen worked and made enough space for a garden from seeds she gathered. Graysen was skilled at trapping game for dinner and so the money he made went to making the hut livable; fixing the broken window and getting a door that shut and locked. They fell into a comfortable pattern, him working, her tidying, cleaning, and gardening, but with happy dinners together each night before Graysen would pull her close and begin tugging at her clothes. She would smile and let him.
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"You should go on a walk today."
Elain smiled. "Why is that, my love?"
Graysen gave her a goodbye kiss as he stepped to the door to leave for work. He pulled the door open and waved his hand at the outdoors.
"It's Autumn, Elain. Gods damned beautiful. I'll see you tonight."
Something like guilt twisted her insides at Graysen's words. She walked to the door and peered out. The trees surrounding their place were turning deep reds and oranges. Graysen was right. It was beautiful. Elain wondered if maybe all things from Autumn were beautiful, and then shut the door. She stayed inside all day.
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Winter came and it was every bit as miserable as Elain remembered. With the snow and the cold, Graysen wasn't needed for work as often. With the snow and cold, the traps Graysen set were almost always empty. With the snow and the cold, there remained little Elain could scavenge and there'd been too little left to can from her late start garden. Gone were happy dinners together at night. But Elain knew if they could make it through the winter, they could be all right again. He still loved her. He still pulled her close every night and kissed her skin, ran his hands over her curves, spilled into her. But he was a little rougher now than he used to be. He'd pin her hands above her head, holding her tightly in place and thrust uncomfortably into her. Sometimes he nipped her shoulder and twisted her breasts until she cried out in pain, but he'd apologize after.
Except for the night she brought up her family.
"Feyre hunted in the winter. She couldn't always bring something back, but maybe you might be able to hunt if you're not needed at work tomorrow," she suggested.
"Feyre? Your whore fae sister? You want me to be like her?"
Elain drew back.
"Everyone in town knew about your sister and Isaac Hale. Jurian, was that his name, told us about her with two different high lords after she turned," Graysen snorted and shook his head. "And you think I should be more like her?" He pushed his body up and slammed out the door.
Elain tried to chase after him, but he yelled, HE YELLED, at her. She heard him when he came in hours later, but he didn't come for her where she lay awake in their bed, he just laid down in the front room, and she let him.
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It had been too long. Elain knew there wasn't really a way to know, except she did know. She teared up everytime she thought about it. And when she told Graysen, he teared up too. He scooped her up in his arms and twirled her around their tiny place and kissed her face and her tummy. He still loved her every night, but he was so gentle now. Now that she carried their baby.
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She thought she would have to do it alone. Graysen's family had found out about the baby, but even the promise of a grandchild wasn't enough to thaw Lord Nolan's heart. His staunch disapproval of them continued to make it hard for Graysen to make any real money as most employers in town didn't wish to cross Lord Nolan. It also made it hard to find any woman willing to help midwife. Graysen had gone out to look for help as Elain labored, crying and sweating.
He came back home, shouting her name, with help. She was an older woman who looked Elain over head to toe more than once, before she came close and ordered Graysen to find some rags and clean water. Elain had cried, relief sweeping over her. The woman stayed, coaxing Elain through it, until she finally gave birth. Then she scrubbed the babe clean and swaddled it, pulling a knitted hat over it's head.
"Congratulations, Faerie. You've a son."
Graysen had slipped some coins in her hand and rushed to be near them, as the woman hurried out the door. He kissed Elain, he insisted he get to hold the baby, encouraged her to rest. Later, after she nursed the baby for the first time, Graysen took their son and cradled him on his chest, pulling Elain in close. They all fell asleep, piled close to one another and Elain thought she couldn't ever feel happier than she did in that moment.
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The baby's cries woke them. Graysen helped Elain shift positions before handing her the baby.
"Lander's hungry," he teased.
Elain laughed and scrunched her nose at Graysen, "You mean, 'Merritt's hungry?'"
They'd been unable to pick one name they both liked and had instead teased each other with their name of choice for the last couple of weeks. Elain bit her lip as the baby latched on, not used to nursing yet. Graysen never liked to talk about her being fae, but she was secretly glad to know she'd heal from the birthing process more quickly. He warmed up some food and fed her while she nursed. When the baby fell back asleep, Graysen started to clean, insisting Elain rest more. She leaned back on the bed after clean sheets were put on it and marveled at the perfect being in her arms.
The tiny head began to move eventually and soft sounds came from the perfect mouth. Graysen set a clean blanket by her knees and plunked a sudsy bucket on the floor.
"That baby of ours needs a bath, Elain," he gently placed the baby on its back and dipped a small cloth in the clean water. Tugging slowly, Graysen undid the swaddle the midwife had done so perfectly earlier. He ran his finger against the small hand and when tiny fingers wrapped around his finger, he looked at Elain and then kissed her. He moved the wet cloth softly but quickly, washing his tummy and arms, his small pinkish back and his cute little toes, as the baby began to protest. Graysen wrung the cloth clean and dipped the corner of it back in the bucket. He tucked his finger under the rim of the knitted hat and pushed it up and off, where it fell to the bed.
Elain heard the cloth drop back in the bucket, saw Graysen step back from the edge of the bed where the baby lay. Startled, she pushed up.
"Graysen?" she asked.
He shook his head and slumped backwards towards the wall. Panicked, she scooped up the baby and began to check him over. "Graysen?"
"I'll be damned, Elain," he stood up. "I, I'll be back. I need a minute."
"Graysen, what is it?" her chest rose and fell faster.
"Look at those ears," Graysen snorted. "A damned faerie. That's not a boy, that's a faerie."
Graysen looked at both of them and his lip curled. And then he left. The door slammed loudly behind him and baby, unswaddled, naked, and wet, started to cry. Elain heard Graysen stomp off, away from their small home, their small family, and cried as she picked up the cloth and finished the bath. Her swaddle wasn't as good as the midwife's, but she hugged the tiny baby close to her and tears rolled down her face.
"You are perfect exactly the way you are," she whispered on his new skin and she kissed his head, brushing away any tears that fell on his soft skull.
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Graysen still came home every night, but later than he’d ever done. He always smelled like liquor now, too. He avoided touching Merritt, avoided helping with Merritt. There were plenty of nights he didn't creep in until long after the moon had been up. Elain hated those nights. He'd push the curtains open letting moonlight spill over their bed and she knew. He may not want a fae for a child, but he still like bedding a fae.
She told herself it meant he was still trying, meant that he still loved her and would someday try harder with Merritt. But the only time he spent with her was with her naked skin shimmering under his body. He'd press her down hard into the mattress and leer at her glowing skin, only letting go if her hair fell behind her ear. Then he'd quickly sweep her hair over her ears, covering the one part of her body that had changed shape, that couldn't be pretended into human. Fast and hard, he'd pound into her, shaking the bed before passing out. Any tenderness he'd ever used was gone and the first time he came home with the scent of another woman on him and passed out on the floor, Elain couldn't tell if she was devastated or relieved.
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Merritt could sit up. He could crawl. Elain no longer put him in the crib Graysen had made for him, she just tucked him in close to her at night. Graysen didn't enter the bedroom anymore. If he came home at all, he stumbled to the sofa and stayed there.
One night, she went to the main room for some water, nursing made her so thirsty. Graysen lay on the small ugly sofa so she tip toed, but when she turned around he was staring at her. She knew she shouldn't, but there was too much hurt inside her and she said, "Your girl wouldn't let you stay tonight?"
Graysen glared across the dark room at her. "You say his name in your sleep. All the gods damned time," he said before rolling over, turning his back to her.
"Merritt's?" she asked.
Graysen's voice floated over his shoulder at her. His voice filled with bitterness.
"Lucien's. Sometimes, I think you were never supposed to be mine, Elain."
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If she hadn't been faerie, she wouldn't have heard them when she did, the deep howls, the racing, clopping feet. She would have missed it until it was too late. But then if she hadn't been fae, Lord Nolan wouldn't have turned his dogs loose to hunt her. She wondered briefly if she could kill the dogs before they got to her and her son. She ran instead.
North, she needed to run north, to the wall, where no one wanted her or her son dead for being fae. She hoped she could find a way in through the wall. And then hopefully find help. That was all too far down the line. Right now she needed to run faster. Merritt was still wrapped up, tied against her with a long blanket. She held one arm tight against his back to make sure he didn't slip loose.
Graysen had been waiting when they got back from an afternoon walk. Smelling of the same woman he always smelled like now, but sober. Elain hadn't realized how hard she'd been holding on to the hope they would work through it all until Graysen crushed it all. The more he'd talked, the more certain she was that she was about to throw up.
Her name was Diane. Graysen told Elain how she'd opened his eyes to her wicked ways. How Elain had used a magic spell to make him think he loved her. How Elain had tricked him into thinking they were married when they weren't.
He was going to marry Diane.
Elain's tears, her pleas, were nothing. She'd asked him what about Merritt. Graysen had scoffed. Diane had told Graysen about that baby too. About how Elain had tricked him into getting her pregnant so she could create more faeries. Graysen had spat at her feet.
"I came in case there's any of the human girl I used to know still in you. When I get back to town, my father is going to let the hounds out and come hunting. You should probably be gone by then," then Graysen had turned and walked the path towards town. He didn't look back once.
It felt like sharp stabbing knives everywhere as she ran, in her legs, her arms, her lungs. Sweat rolled down her back, but she still ran. Merritt was crying, but she didn’t stop. Not while she could still hear the dogs behind her.
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She ran until she collapsed, nursing Merritt half asleep on the ground. Less than a year old and she failed to even give him a happy home. She thought she would cry if she had the energy. Instead, she fell asleep right there on the ground. When she awoke, she checked on Merritt, kissing his head before running more.
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What was left of the wall lay shattered on the ground, no doubt never rebuilt after the war. She crossed the fallen, shattered line sometime after dark. She was starving and exhausted, but the ease with which she'd crossed the line frightened her enough to keep going. She wasn't sure what she would do. So she ran until she couldn't.
She collapsed and pulled Merritt from the blanket that kept him bundled to her. She nursed him and worried how much longer she could make it without a real meal. She needed to make a plan. For Merritt. She had to keep him safe.
A snap came through the woods and Elain tensed. Finally feeding, Merritt had stopped crying, and Elain was grateful. She tried to slow her breath to make herself more quiet to whatever had caused the noise she heard. She hoped it was nothing. But she trembled as she sensed something coming closer. Slowly, she twisted her cloak to cover her body and Merritt's.
There was no sound except for Merritt's gentle breath for minutes. She sighed in relief and poked her head out from under the cloak. Staring at her from only a few feet away was a monster she could only remember from a nightmare. A terrible creature, with horns sprouting from it's wolf-like head atop a body bigger than a bear, it's green eyes glittered in the moonlight and Elain fainted.
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"She's so beautiful! I bet she goes to the library."
- my 7 year old daughter
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@nessianweek Day Three — Symphony
“Your power is a song, and one I've waited a very, very long time to hear, Nesta.” — ACOSF, Chapter 72
ART CREDIT arda.arts
COMMISSIONED BY @oristian @melphss
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST
FOUND ON INSTAGRAM (HERE)
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Just Vassa worried about Lucien.
"You didn't come home last night,” it was more of a question.
When she pushed open his bedroom door, he sat there on the edge of the made bed, staring out the window. The moonlight stretched across the floor, abruptly stopping before his boots, as if even in the night, he preferred to stay out of the light. She waited. And he finally looked at her over his shoulder.
“No.”
The door clicked softly as she shut it, “I brought us some wine. I thought you might want a drink.”
He lifted a bottle of bourbon in response.
“I brought glasses then.”
She left the wine behind and crawled over the bed, settling behind him, legs folded. She put a pour in each of the glasses and handed one to him. She took a small sip and grimaced. He tipped the whole pour in his mouth and swallowed smoothly.
“So where'd you go last night?”
“Autumn.”
She shook her head, “You shouldn't do that. It's not safe.”
“They hate me there, too.”
“Lu, she doesn't hate you.”
“No, Vas? She sure as shit doesn't like me.”
Vassa pressed her forehead gently against Lucien's back, “I think you should stop going.”
“No one in Autumn saw me.”
“Stop going to the Night Court. Stop going to solstice birthday parties. Stop sneaking into Autumn. None of this is good for you.”
He didn't reply for awhile.
“I'm not sure there's anything good left for me anymore.”
Vassa set her bourbon filled wine glass down on the nightstand and wrapped her arms around Lucien's waist, pressing her cheek against his back.
“You're a good person, Lu. A good male. You're one of my favorite people, fae, whatever. And there is good out there for you somewhere and I will find it myself if I have to. For you.”
He sighed, covering her hands with one of his own to give her a quick squeeze as the other hand plucked her abandoned glass from the nightstand and he drank the rest of her bourbon.
“I love you, too, Vas.”
#acotar#lucien#lucien vanserra#vassa acotar#sad melancholy Lu#too short to be a story too long to be a drabble#short fanfic
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Ya girl wrote a snippet??
Not what I was expecting to write, but I wrote omg.
“No! I don’t wanna!”
Cassian sighed deeply. His daughter was only two, she couldn’t be this stubborn. But yet, here she sat on the middle of the floor, looking like her mother. Her arms were folded, her lower lip jutting out, and her silver blue eyes blazing.
“Orianna, it’s time to go. We don’t want to get to Illyria late.”
“I don’t want to go to Illyria!” She thumped her fists down on the rug for emphasis. “I want to stay in the library!” But library came out like “wibary” and Cassian tried to hold in his laughter.
“Don’t you want to go help Aunt Emerie in her shop? Mama is there waiting for us.” Cassian lowered himself onto the floor slowly, taking care not to spook Ori. She was quick on her feet and her wings and the House would aid her in escape.
“I wanna stay with Aunt Gwyn in the library!” Ori rubbed at her eyes furiously. There it is, Cassian thought, she’s tired. He reached out for her slowly, scooping her into his arms. “Aunt Gwyn is coming to Illyria with Uncle Az tomorrow,” he reminded her as he held her tight against his chest, “we have to beat them there. I’ll get you strapped in and you can take a nap.” He knew she’d be asleep before they made it out of the valley.
“I don’t wanna go to Illyria,” she whined into his chest, picking absently at the siphon in his leathers. “They’re mean and I don’t like them. I wanna stay in the library.” Ori’s wings drooped, from exhaustion and defeat.
“Who’s mean, Ori?” Cassian asked, as she nestled her head into his neck.
“The old females,” he little voice piped from his shoulder, Cassian met her silver blue eyes that were filled with worry and tears. “They call me half-breed. And ugly. The boys don’t do it anymore, ‘cause Nyx beat them up, but the females all say it.” Ori rubbed her eyes with a chubby fist before burrowing back into Cassian’s neck and chest her voice whimpered and muffled. “I wanna stay in the library.”
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What better way to celebrate Lover day for @cassianappreciationweek than with some soft Nessian being all eyes for one another 🥺
A very big thank you to @/honeyypears (IG) for creating this gorgeous piece! So obsessed with Cassian's big hands and his mating ring and just everything!
Do not repost without credit and do not feed into AI programs.
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@cassianappreciationweek | Day 04: Lover
“Cassian had named about two dozen poses for Nesta at this point.Ranging from I Will Eat Your Eyes for Breakfast to I Don't Want Cassian to Know I'm Reading Smut. The latter was hisparticular favorite.” - ACOFAS, Chapter 8.
Cassian can be quite romantic, thinking of things that will make Nesta happy, such as an old miniature book made by little fairies or recording a symphony of Nesta's favorite songs. But one of my favorite scenes is when he comments he has cataloged many of his expressions, because its obvious he in love with every aspect of her.
Thank you @/jessi.brasilart for creating this beautiful artwork for me.
Art by: @/jessi.brasilart Commissioned by: @melphss Characters belongs to: Sarah J. Maas
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Elucien Fashion Magazine Cover
🎀 Artwork by @vellaryss For Day 4 High Society @elucienweekofficial
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Today I just thought, you know what? Nesta would be the first one sick of this Lucien we don't trust you at all but hang out with us all the time BS.
“You and your brothers, you all had the same tutors, yes?” Nesta stared down her nose at Lucien.
“We did. Mostly,” he replied.
She looked over her shoulder at the party. A gemstone on her charcoal gray gown caught the light. Another Solstice celebration kickoff in the Hewn City, but this time, two Vanserras had been invited.
She raised an eyebrow, “Are you going to ask me to dance?”
“You want to dance?” He choked on his wine.
“I hate this place. Cassian and Azriel are busy trying to look menacing. Feyre and Rhys are busy lording over everyone, your brother appears to be trying his best to hit it off with the brunette over there, and Elain is hiding from all of us. You said you had the same tutors, so, yes, I want you to ask me to dance.”
Lucien set his drink down slowly and stood. His eyes took her in, head to toe, and she smirked, satisfied.
“May I have this dance?”
“Certainly,” she curtsied and he led her to the floor.
Lucien couldn't dance as well as Eris, but Nesta was certain no one but her could tell that. They covered the dance floor, only breaking to catch their breath and sip more wine until the party began to die down as the moon started to set.
“They're staring,” he whispered in her ear at the end of the last dance.
“Fuck them,” she replied, “You and I both deserve a friend at these things. We could be good friends.”
“I believe you're right about that.”
“Then I look forward to seeing you at the River House tomorrow, friend.”
#look i love lucien but eris is still the better dancer#no nesta was not hitting on lucien in front of cassian#just cassians too busy broing it up with his besties and nestas like this is lame#nesta would be like you wont dance with your mate fine i will#nesta#lucien#acotar#fan fic#too short to be a story too long to be a drabble
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This is hot 🔥

Feysand WIP 🙌🏽
Trust the process please 😬
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If I had to choose the wardrobe of one of the female acotar characters, I would choose Elain. I just like pretty dresses.
Sorry Nesta. I'm not cool enough to pull your look.
And Feyre, I might steal your leggings and sweaters, but I'm not down to be dressed in rags.
Mor, your clothes are too revealing.
Amren, I don't like the color gray.
i almost chose Viviane because I'm always freezing.
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Lucien Hates Elain
“Lucien! I heard you weren't coming!” Cassian clapped Lucien on the back.
Lucien's metal eye whirled and clicked, taking in Cassian, Nesta, and Azriel, “I heard the same about the Night Court.”
Nesta coolly assessed the freckled female sitting on the bench beside Lucien. He rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly, “Aibell, this is Nesta from the Night Court, her mate, Cassian, and Azriel.”
Aibell rose, greeting them and turned back to Lucien, who stood, “I should go. It was lovely to see you again, Vanserra. I'll tell my mother you said hi.”
“Lucien. And please do,” he kissed her cheek and she left, leaving the balcony to go back into the party. Lucien waited until she was gone from the balcony before turning back to face the members of the Night Court.
“Tamlin told the High Lords he wouldn't be sending any representation to the celebration this evening,” Azriel stated.
“I am not here to stand in for Spring Court,” Lucien replied witheringly.
“Then why are you here?” Azriel asked.
“I don't report to you, you know that? I could ask you the same, Thesan told my mother Night Court had declined their invitation.”
Only Cassian blinked, “You're here with Autumn?”
“I'm here with my mother and was catching up with an old friend that you all managed to scare off.”
Azriel's wings twitched ever so slightly, expanding with a cold menace before snapping back into a relaxed position, “Elain,” he greeted, staring over Lucien's shoulder.
Nesta brushed past Lucien to squeeze her sister's hand.
“Oh,” Elain's face tightened seeing Lucien, “I didn't realize you were going to be here tonight.”
Lucien picked up his glass and swallowed all of the remaining amber liquid smoothly, “Ever the disappointment, I'm afraid.”
Elain frowned and stepped closer to Nesta. Cassian reached over and took the glass from Lucien, “Let me get you another. Azriel and I know where the really good stuff is. Nesta, walk with me. Elain, we'll be right back.”
Cassian placed a hand on Nesta's lower back to push her to the balcony door, while Azriel stared Lucien down. “Az, Nesta and I need you. Too many glasses to carry if you don't come, let's go. Be right back, Elain.” He tossed Elain a quick wink. Azriel scowled, but followed.
“I was introduced to your mother,” Elain said.
Lucien ran a hand down his face, “I wish that you hadn't been.”
Elain looked confused, “She was nice.”
“I already know that.”
“Then why?”
“Why? Why would I want her to meet you? We are nothing, are we not?”
Elain shrank and Lucien took a step towards her.
“Night Court said they weren't coming tonight. I would not be here, my lady, had Night Court said they were attending. The fact that you haven't noticed I have been avoiding meeting up with the Night Court only strengthens my new belief.”
“You haven't been around as often, that's true. I assumed you were busy.”
He responded with a hot glare.
“Very well, my lord,” she seemed to taunt, “What is your new belief?”
“I believe I hate you, Elain Archeron,” he finally smiled at her.
Her jaw dropped open, but she caught it quickly, closing her mouth and blinking angrily.
“A rather interesting belief,” she shot back.
“Do you know why I would have refused to attend tonight, even for my mother, had I known you were coming? Tonight, Elain,” he put an extra emphasis on the use of her name, “I won't be able to sleep. I will lay in bed and only hear the softness of your voice in the quiet of my thoughts. For days, I will be haunted by the sound of you. Even if I do manage to sleep, your voice will fill my dreams, telling me wonderful and terrible things, both of which are becoming too much to bear. And I believe I am beginning to hate the sound of your voice.
“I could stay right here, Elain,” he pointed to where he stood before crossing the balcony quickly, so close their chests almost touched and she gasped at the speed with which he'd come at her, “or I could stand right next to you all night and I will still smell you. The torturous scent of you will cling to me and I will be unable to think about anything but you. I could shower with scented oils, or fill the whole manner with the strongest smelling roses, and the only damned thing I'll be able to smell is you, and I now hate the smell of you following me for days and weeks.
“When I close my eyes,” he pressed his own shut in demonstration, “your face, your hair, the shape of your hands not in mine will be the only things I will see,” he hissed leaning closer to her.
“And I hate, I hate, how tightly I will hold on to all of these things, trying to make them last as long as they can, because I don't know the next time I might see you. I hate how I can't turn away from looking at you right now, I hate how I am already memorizing every word you've actually said to me tonight, and I hate that I can't stop myself from doing this,” he dropped his head close to hers and began to breathe her in, his cheek close enough to hers they were almost touching.
A small shiver ran down Elain's back and she shook slightly, tipping her head back ever so slightly, as if inviting him to come closer.
“I hate you, too,” she murmured.
He looked at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open.
“I hate you. I hate the way-”
“I told you we knew where the good stuff was,” Cassian declared loudly before stepping out onto the balcony, a drink in each hand. Azriel and Nesta followed, both carrying drinks, as Mor, Feyre, and Rhysand appeared behind them.
Lucien ignored them as he watched Elain peer into his eyes. As she wet her lips, staring at his own mouth for the briefest moment before she floated away towards Nesta without a backwards glance, disappearing back into the party as Feyre pulled him into a hug speaking words he couldn't hear.
He grinned, unable to help himself.
#acotar#lucien vanserra#elain archeron#elucien#lucien trying to do his own thing#the night court ruining it#lucien dont call me vanserra#elain licking her lips#and staring at that mouth#enjoyed writing this
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