#lucien vanserra

[thrumugnyr]

@tamlinweek Day 4: Happily Ever After

This scene is based on a Tamlin/Lucien fic that a friend wrote for me and I really wanted to draw it because not only do I like the fic a lot, but it's also my one biggest wish for future books: For Tamlin to apologize to Lucien and for them to make up and be their found family again that I loved so much in book 1.

[silly--fangirl]

i imagine lucien has a warm voice. i can't really explain it, but it just makes sense for his voice to be like bathing in the sun or sitting near a fireplace after a cold day.

[copypastus]

Day 5 of @tamlinweek - Masquerade

Why WERE the masks part of the curse anyway?

50 years worth of mask tan bonus.

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part three

summary: azriel jealous and yearning for Y/N

🧚‍♀️

a/n: sorry guys for the long assss wait, ive been on exchange in the uk so i have been busy living life hehe, still here and loving it!! hope you guys like this one, love you all cuties <33 also this isnt proof read so sorry for any mistakes! let me know what you think, i love all of your sweet messages !! eeeeeee

read : [part one] [part two]

-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------

You woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache and a parched mouth, confused as to how you had made it to your bed from last night. The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over your room.

Groaning loudly, you cursed as you shifted your weight around, consequently turning your head to come face to face with Lucien's chiseled features, peacefully sleeping next to you. It took you a second to realize he was shirtless as well.

You screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His mechanical eye swirled open, followed by his other. "Tell me we didn't."

"DID what," Lucien murmured, a small smirk gracing his features as he stared up at the ceiling. Amusement danced in his eyes as he stretched languidly against the sheets. His morning rasp tingled inside you and nicked at you annoyingly. This could not have happened. The headache of whatever liquids and maybe even other substances you had consumed yesterday hit you hard, and you fell back to face the ceiling as well, nausea threatening to overwhelm you.

"You little slut, you know what I meant," you groaned, rolling onto your front in a feeble attempt to quell the oncoming headache and urge to vomit.

You felt Lucien shift next to you as well, attempting to detangle himself from the crisp black sheets of your bed. "We must have done it."

"NO Lucien."

"YES."

"NO, I CAN'T-"

"…why not," Lucien breathed out. His demeanor had changed since you last saw him sober; something had happened last night, and you could not remember, but he was acting differently.

"All I am saying is that last night made me realize things about you, Y/N…" he continued, rising from the sheets. You raised your eyes in horror, ready to scream because you did not want to get flashed by fiery dick-

-a pair of orange breeches came into view.

"Oh."

"Upset that we didn't actually sleep together, Y/N?"

An unknown feeling of red-hotness spread throughout your face, turning your cheeks pink. "I hate you, Lucien," you hummed.

"What did you realize, Lucien?"

"That I pretend to not care the way Azriel and Elain make heart eyes at each other, but on the inside, it's like a knife twisting inside me," he deadpanned, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"What???" he groaned, falling down next to you. "Nothing, Luc, I just feel sorry for us, that's all.

~

Azriel sat at the dining table, swirling the black coffee mindlessly. It was 2 pm, and his shadows had begun reporting how the others had finally begun stirring awake after their long night. They had gotten back at 5 am, the sun slowly beginning to peek through the trees and buildings of Velaris, and he had watched from afar as Lucien carried Y/N to her room.

He had not come out afterwards. His shadows had been in an unfamiliar frenzy, yelling to slip through and see what was happening in that bedroom, to investigate how good he gave it to her because Azriel just knew. He knew he could give it to her better.

He clenched his fists at the picture his shadows had painted for him of the events which probably had unfolded in her room. What was it with his sexual urges with Y/N all of a sudden? She was just his friend. She had always just been his friend. Maybe he had had a little crush on her before. Maybe when she would walk into a room and his palms would sweat, he would chastise himself for wearing too many layers. Or how when she used to make his heart beat irregularly, he would tell Rhys about anxiety. It was easier to let them think he had a disorder rather than admit feelings. Because maybe, just maybe he had had slight feelings towards her for centuries. But there was Elain now.

He liked Elain.

"Good Morning Azriel!" a sweet voice chirped, as Elain entered the dining room, a sweet tea held in her perfectly manicured hands. Even after a night out, she looked perfect. Her hair looked freshly blow-dried, and her lips tinted pink, looking fresh and kissable. He smiled gently, and her eyes brightened as she took a seat next to him, murmuring things about last night and how odd it was to see Lucien with Y/N.

"I just don't think he should have danced like that with her, what do you think?" she whispered, her eyes shining.

"I know it was disrespectful to you," Azriel nodded back, looking into her glassy doe eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he felt a sudden burst of movement from his shadows, but the warning wasn't quick enough as two figures walked into the room.

God, she looked horrible.

Elain let out a comical gasp, and the corner of his mouth lifted as Y/N walked into the room, her hair messy and disturbed, like someone had pulled on it, ran their hands through it. Her presence snatched on his gaze, it pulled it towards him, and Azriel found himself unable to look away.

Her eyes lazily dragged over Azriel, raking up his body, and never before had he felt so hot. But he did not break eye contact with her either, he maintained it, willing and daring her to break it first.

Their eyes met in a silent battle of wills, a tension simmering beneath the surface as they sized each other up. It was a fleeting moment, but it spoke volumes, leaving Azriel reeling in its wake.

"Lucien, can we talk?" Elain broke the silence.

Everyone blinked and looked at the innocent girl sitting down. Azriel watched as she looked into Lucien’s eyes, with her innocent look, and he mentally chuckled. She was doing damage control, and it was working because his shadows were reporting the increase in Lucien’s heartbeat.

“Of course,” Lucien whispered and pushed past Y/N, whisking Elain away out of the room.

Charged silence followed. Azriel went back to nursing his coffee which had gone cold now. He felt Y/N scoff and mutter something under her breath which sounded a whole lot like "bitch," as she moved around the place, into the connecting kitchen, trying to will the House to make her a cup of its strongest coffee. They didn’t say a word to each other, but Azriel could feel the tension in the air. He didn’t know where it had formed from, what abyss it had risen from, he just knew there was something that needed to be addressed between them before his head and his heart exploded.

“What was that from last night?” he let out a breath finally, his shadows jittering around the place. He looked up from his swirling black coffee to see Y/N cease her movements in the corner of the kitchen. Her short night dress, barely covering her ass, had ridden up as she had been bent over the kitchen bench. Azriel felt himself stiffen, so he looked away quickly, adjusting himself.

“What do you mean,” she replied, turning around with a neutral expression on her face, guarding her emotions. She carefully padded her way to the table, setting the coffee down and placing herself directly in front of him. Her scent wafted over him, and his jaw ticked, but he didnt show any emotion. His dark eyes bore into hers, his shadows fought to sift over her, wanting to know her thoughts, her feelings, her emotions. Alas, she showed nothing.

“You and Lucien…” he drawled out, pretending to ask nonchalantly.

“We just danced to Azriel, I was really drunk,” she whispered softly, placing her hands together on her lap.

“You emerged from the same room,” he replied calmly.

As she cocked her head to the side, her hair falling onto her face, time seemed to slow down. Her long eyelashes were stunning, and her deep eyes looked at Azriel with something so unsaid, that the raw intensity sent shivers down his spine.

Azriel knew at that moment that he could no longer leave these unanswered feelings of his left hanging. He wasn't a dumb male; if his body was responding to Y/N like this for so long, there was clearly a reason. And it was not a dumb crush.

He had forced himself to believe for so long, that Elain should belong to him. Three brothers for three sisters, that is what he would tell himself.

Yet something had shifted between them two, a subtle undercurrent that left Azriel reeling. It was something deeper, something undeniable. And as he met Y/N's gaze, he knew that he could no longer ignore the pull that drew him to her, the pull of something real, something worth fighting for.

--

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[uukipi]

some people asked for pocket sized Tamlin! here he is!!!

free to use as icons backgrounds wallpaper :D

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Three

Summary - After Azriel and Nesta return from their mission you find them being as watchful as ever, and it turns out that celebrations weren’t always destined to be joyous.

Warnings - angst, fluff, flirting, slight suggestive tones

Part One Part Two

Sunlight curled around your forearm, tugging you and willing you to step outside and bask in her glory.

Ignoring her, you again focused on the matter that held your attention.

“Say it with me, Nyx,” your hands were delicately placed under his arms, holding him in place on your lap. Nyx looked at you with wide eyes and blushed chubby cheeks, dark hair weeping from sleep, his little wings flapping behind him and small digits reaching to furl into your hair, “Auntie y/n is the most powerful.”

Nyx babbled incoherently and you shrugged, cuddling him into your chest and inhaling that smell that made your heart clench with want. It was so fresh, a perfect amalgamation of Rhys and Feyre but also something utterly pure and unique to him, “Close enough, I suppose.”

A certain type of ferocity had consumed you the moment Nyx had been born, there was no one that could guard him better than you. Perhaps that was why Rhys rarely cared when you would pick up the child and whisk him away in on one of your adventures, that being you’d walk him around the city and take him for ice cream all whilst trying (and failing) to ensure that the first thing to fall from his lips would be your name.

Sunlight speckled through the stained glass panes of the library, it was sometime around noon, and you had swooped Nyx from his cot that morning before Feyre or Rhys could realise it. No one would dare to meddle with your time with your nephew.

Three days had passed since Azriel had left you with nothing but a whisper of a kiss on your brow, it had been three days of silence, three days of Rhys acting as your shadow and you letting him believe that you didn't notice his intense gaze settled upon you whenever you entered the room. The Circle had been suspicious, whispering in corners and sparing you the odd sidelong glance before resuming their hushed bickering, even Feyre, who you believed wouldn't be one of those people, was also taking part.

It seemed as though Lucien was your only friend, he actively sought you out, he had noticed your reluctance and need to hide yourself away so distracted your mind by asking about Eris, about what you spoke of. Of course Lucien knew you wouldn't divulge any details, but seeing your eyes sparkle and a soft smile form on your lips was enough to make him believe that you at least had one good thing occupying your mind these days.

A sonnet of brisk air alerted you to another presence slipping through the library doors, Nyx perked up in your arms, and you knew instantly from that and the scent of night-kissed air that Rhys was stood somewhere behind you. Your nerves stood on end as he rounded where you both sat, casting his shadow over your forms, "You stole him again," Rhys' voice was cold and distant, but he cocked his head to the side and grinned at his son, placing his finger in Nyx's hand and shaking it gently.

"Is it so terrible of me to want to spend some time with my nephew?" Rhys hummed and reached for the child, you went to shield him from your brother but relented when Rhys' gaze set alight in warning and gave in, relaxing your grip and feeling that pained void when the wriggling child was snatched from you.

Rhys settled Nyx into his chest, resting his chin atop the crown of his head and looked down on you with his usual wariness, "We have been invited to the Day Court this evening. Helion has requested your presence."

Narrowing your eyes at him, you surveyed his face for any signs of deception, "What's the occasion?" Rhys turned his back to you, sweeping Nyx from your sight, muttering something about a birthday.

It was too odd. First Azriel and Nesta being sent away, the entire family being odd and secretive, then being beckoned to the Day Court? Something wasn't right, and you certainly did not want to spend your evening watching Helion beg Azriel and Cassian for some kind of soul-enlightening orgy.

Once Rhys had stepped out of the room, you threw up your shield and floated toward the desk, once again ignoring the sun beckoning you outside and finding an odd scrap of parchment to scribe upon, scratching your message out and letting it devour itself into ash and float away.

I need your opinion on something.

A minute passed and you spied an autumn-scented piece of cream tinged paper wedged beneath an old leather bound book.

Is that all you need from me?

Smirking, you replied with a matching amount of seductiveness. That was how your conversations had been going, light and always full of mischief, but Eris was always poised to listen to your words, he was always ready to help you if you even thought of asking him for it.

For now.

Tell me what's on your mind, Fawn.

Hesitating, your quill hovered over the paper as you debated whether or not to tell him what the past three days had been like without Azriel and Nesta. The hushed words and glares, your loneliness and desire to lock yourself away. Was it divulging Night Court secrets or just your own?

I feel out of place here. I feel like I'm being punished for helping you. Rhys sent Azriel and Nesta away, and the rest of them are avoiding me more than usual. Cassian hasn't invited me to training, Mor hasn't come to my rooms to gossip, even Rhys took Nyx from my arms only a few minutes ago. It's like I'm poison that they need to dispel from their lives and I just want to lock myself away and disappear.

Watching the clock, you counted down the seconds until another note found its way to you.

I know Rhys sent them away because I found them poking around my boarders the evening before last. And, you're not poison, Little Fawn, locking yourself away only means that they win, and you're far too important to let the infantile actions of your family diminish everything that you are. Don't forget that. No one controls you but you, y/n, the world is yours if you would only ask for it.

Would you give me the world if I asked for it?

I would burn the world to ash if you asked me to. There is nothing that I would not give you.

Heart fluttering in your chest, you slumped back into the comfort of the antique armchair that you had told Cassian off more times than not for using it as a stool for his feet.

Will you be there tonight? At the Day Court?

I will.

Will you find me?

Always.

The shield around you pulsated with force and you furrowed your brow at the shimmering ripples that swam across its surface. Dull thumps echoed within your bubble, and a muffled voice called out to you. Glancing down at the note in your fingers, you turned it into black mist that curled around your fingers and danced upward to the sky and lowered the guard.

You could have cried with relief. Azriel stood before you, still clad in his second skin, blue siphons glowing like he had entered just entered Velaris and had immediately sought you out before reporting to Rhys. Azriel knew what was more important.

"You're back," you breathed as you walked into his awaiting arms, arms that wrapped around your waist and fingers that raked through your hair with a hint of desperation.

Your heart seized in your chest, needing to feel at home and at peace. But it didn't. A lump formed in your throat and a pit opened in your stomach and pooled with unease.

Azriel pulled away from you, his hazel eyes scoured your face but they held something awoken in them, like he saw you differently. His fingers floated over the surface of your skin, up the inky bargain that encased your upper arm which matched his own and across your collarbone, but he didn't touch you there as though as if he were worried that you would mar his hands further.

You took a step back, "What's wrong?"

He'd found something on his travels, something that was making him look at you differently, in a way he had never looked at you, with fear, with sadness.

Azriel's brows etched together, his eyes flowing up and down your form, noticing something off about you. Your scent. The scent of Autumn, of Eris, lingered on your fingertips, the same fingers that were wrapped around his neck moments ago. You hid your hands behind your back.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see you," even his voice was laced with his deception, his shoulders went rigid like a putrid smell had entered his nose, and he visibly shivered, "I should go and talk to Rhys. I'll find you later?"

Feigning innocence, you called, "Was the mission alright, at least? Where did you end up going?"

Azriel turned back to you, lingering in the doorway before your portrait, "It was fine," he forced a tight lipped smile, it was almost as if he had forgotten how observant you were, and how well you knew him. Still, you kept your eyes full of that doe eyed wonder that threw him off and lured him right into your talons. If he was going to lie to you, then there was no harm in aiding your own agenda, "Rhys sent us to keep an eye on some happenings in Spring. Tamlin has been expanding his armies."

A lie. A blatant attempt of deception. One that didn't stick.

Anger bubbled within you, Azriel had never lied to you, your bond was supposed to be too special for those kind of games. Instead of allowing it to bubble over, you inhaled deeply and kept your hands folded behind your back, "Well, I'm glad you're home. I missed you."

The Shadowsinger relaxed his features and almost looked as though he wanted to move to you, to gather you up in his arms and protect you from whatever was clearly heading your way. But he didn't, instead, he spoke to you softly, "I missed you too, y/n," and disappeared from your view.

A feeling of impending pain, perhaps not physical, lodged itself deep within your soul, almost strong enough to steal the air from your lungs. Clasping you hand around the ledge of the large oak desk, you hunched over and attempted to fill your lungs with oxygen, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and for the first time in your life, your own sanctuary was suffocating you.

Nesta had greeted you with the same apprehension as Azriel had, although, at least she had made it clear that she didn't want to.

Even the walls were watching you, craning their gaze to follow your figure through the house. The only safe space was your room, so that's where you were, nestled between the cushions and watching the candlelight flicker against the cream coated walls whilst Nesta paced about the space, showing you countless dresses on their hangers since you were making no move to look yourself.

Your friend was dressed in head-to-toe black, a form fitting garment with a long slit up the right side and a neckline so plunging that it left little to the imagination. Her coronet was tightly woven, and two thick strands curled around her jaw to frame her sharp features. Blood red lips, arched brows, eyes full of anticipation.

"You have to choose one, y/n."

Ignoring her command, you turned your head to her and she knew what you wanted to know before you even asked, "Are you going to lie to me too?"

Nesta froze, allowing the hanger to fall at her side along with the silver garment attached to it, "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know why Azriel lied to me about where you both went, and I want to know why all of you are suddenly treating me like a stranger," Nesta exhaled shakily, and it was the first time that you had truly seen her stoic demeanour perish before your eyes; she glanced about the room with worry, like she too could sense the house pressing its ear up against your door, "It's safe to speak. Not even the house can hear us."

The elder Archeron sister perched on the edge of your bed, noting your hunched over figure as you hugged your knees close to your chest, it was clear that your exclusion by everyone was making you feel lesser than. Nesta rested her hand atop the comforter, almost reaching for you, but also not at all; Nesta struggled to find the words, to tell you some form of truth without shattering you, "If it ever comes to it, you know I will protect you, don't you?"

"I used to believe that."

Nesta shuffled up the bed and spoke in a hushed tone, "Rhys has been trying to understand you, where all of your power came from and why he only has a fraction of it. He asked us to go Under The Mountain, to see if Amarantha did something else to you other than take your wings. Males would stop at nothing to harness the power that you have."

Under The Mountain was a hazy memory, one that you'd rather not remember at all. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the marred flesh rippling at the action, "Is that what Rhys wants to do? To harness my power? Is that why I've been so hidden?"

Nesta didn't want to answer, but she couldn't keep it from you, unlike Azriel, Nesta remembered your observance, how nothing got past those fire ringed violet orbs, "I don't know what he wants to do with what he finds," she told you honestly, her stoic hatred for him returning to her features, "I didn't go to aid him, y/n. I went so that I could find whatever he wants to know and give it to you. Protect you."

At least one of them was on your side, and you supposed it would have always been Nesta, Azriel was too loyal to the Night Court, and despite your bargain, he would always protect Velaris first and worry about you later.

"Did you find anything?"

Nesta sighed, "Azriel didn't," but she certainly had, "Not now. Now, you wear the most incredible thing you can find and we go to the Day Court and wear the masks that we have to in order to survive another day."

The dress in her fingers, still on its cushioned pearlescent hanger, was a shade of blue-grey that you rarely wore. The bodice was like armour, perfectly fitted and boned, crystals were embedded into the curve of the breastplate and trickled down the deep seated opening that only met just above the bellybutton, exposing the taut muscle and cleavage beneath. From the point where the fabric met at the lower abdomen, the skirt curved upward over the hips and each ridge of fabric acted as a branch, curving upward and cascading down the back, pooling on the floor. The skirt was frosted, diamonds coated the branches of the skirt and curled around the hem which trailed along the floor, and a long central slit sliced upward, enough to expose the legs you knew most males would crumble for, but also little enough to keep your dignity in tact.

It was a spectacular thing that your mother had made. Perhaps the most.

Nesta helped you into the piece, slithering it up your form and humming in appreciation about how well it fit you. The sleeveless garment was certainly made for you, and she secured a diamond necklace around your neck and rested her hands on your shoulders.

Loose curls bounced with every step, Nesta had braided two thick sections and pinned them upward, pulling the skin of your face backward, and had even gone as far as to bless your face in neutral shimmering cosmetics.

The room fell silent when you stepped into the living area, Cassian's once bellowing laughter turned to molten nothingness, Mor's quips dissipated, Rhys' loving words to Feyre who was entangled in his arms were ash in his mouth, even Azriel couldn't speak as his own eyes poured over you.

Paying little mind to the stares of your family, you turned your attention to Lucien who was stood in the corner leaning against a wooden beam with his arms folded over his chest, smirking, "Shall we? I'd hate to waste an outfit like this on people who couldn't even begin to appreciate it the way it deserves to be."

Lucien bit back his laugh and took your arm after a gentle nod from Elain who knew, and despised, how you were being treated. Under his breath Lucien muttered, "You're playing with fire, y/n."

Leading him from the house and onto the lawn, you turned your gaze upward to him, appreciating his beauty and the tied back hair that Elain had no doubt tailored to him, "Perhaps. But I won't be the one who gets burned."

The Day Court Palace had always had the ability to take your breath away, the home alone was enough to convince you that relocating would be a good idea. Maybe it was the white marble pillars so brilliantly white and tall that they kissed the sky, or maybe it was the cloudless skies that washed you in orange bliss the moment you appeared at the foot of the steps.

Even the breeze was welcoming, dancing around your arms and shoulders before moving onward. A weight had shifted within you, and you realised that it was because the Day Court had no reason to watch you like Velaris did, that for the first time in months you were actually free of eyes constantly watching you.

You didn't look back to see if everyone had landed alright when you began to ascend the steps, completely breaking protocol and sauntering upward to where you could hear music and laughter bubbling. Two familiar presences fell in step with you, Nesta and Lucien, the former to your left and the latter to your right, and you all ignored the claws scraping down the walls of your minds commanding you to return to your positions.

Music swirled around you as you paced down the hallway, being mindful of the multiple pairs of feet scuffling behind you until a hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back with force. Rhys loomed over you, eyes ablaze and snarl conformed to his lips, nostrils flaring with each breath, "What do you think you're doing?"

Nesta fell to your side, ready to take down the High Lord by any means necessary, Cassian was glaring at her and moved closer to Rhys, "I think that you're the one who should be answering that question, brother."

The air around you both grew heavy, it pulsated with dark energy that emitted from you both, but yours drowned his own and pierced him with its talons, making him feel weak and weary, "Remove your hand before I make you," and he did, his hand dropped from your wrist, "What a good little High Lord you are, Rhys. Father would be so proud of you."

Unspoken words flew between you, ones that told him that you knew what he was doing, that he was seeking to control you and always had, just as your father did.

Azriel had, unsurprisingly, moved to Rhys' other side, his gaze low and body ready to cut you down, he was blocking Feyre from view but she peeked over his shoulder just as Mor did with Cassian.

Power pulsated around you like a heartbeat, black began to move from your fingertips and tinge your veins with their ink from your fury, and Rhys' faltered at the sight of it, his eyes blew wide open and he found your darkened eyes zoning in on him, the violet had turned almost black and that ring of fire was blazing, "You need to calm down, y/n."

"Don't you dare," Nesta growled, placing her hands on your shoulders and turning you away, whispering to you and soothing you whilst Lucien stood up to Rhys.

Lucien's gaze was cold, his mechanical eye whirred as he took in the scene before him, of the High Lord flanked by his soldiers, needing to protect him from his own flesh and blood, "Tell me, Rhys," he found Rhys' gaze again, that constantly disapproving thing that followed you everywhere, "Tell me how what you're doing to her, to your own sister, is any different than what Tamlin did to Feyre."

Silence.

Bone dry silence consumed them, and when Lucien turned to see where you and Nesta had gone to, he only saw the train of your dress slip around the corner of the door toward the sound of freedom.

The room had turned to you as soon as you had entered with Nesta by your side, and not in a wary on edge way, in one of awe and adoration. Eris lingered by the dais, dressed in dark grey pants and white shirt, grey waistcoat and matching jacket which adorned silver swirls.

All anger evaporated from you as soon as his russet eyes found you, they washed over you with concern, no doubt seeing the blackened fingertips and sadness in your own orbs that had returned to their usual hue. He looked beautiful, more so than you remembered, more beautiful than the version of him that settled within your dreams.

You moved to the dais and greeted Helion, you had gone to bow to him, as custom when visiting other courts, but he didn't let you, "You bow for no one, especially when you look like that," he had always taken every opportunity to flirt with you, and he always held a certain resentment for Rhys for refusing your hand to him.

"Thank you for inviting us, I hope you've had a wonderful birthday," you folded his hands in your own and felt his healing touch worm its way into every negative pocket in your body, feeling lighter, more grounded.

The doors opened again, and you turned to see Rhys stalk up the centre of the hall closely followed by the rest of his Inner Circle. As if sensing your discomfort, Eris took a step up and offered a hand to you, and you gladly took it, stepping down from the foot of the dais to allow Rhys to have his moment with his friend, and not once did Cassian or Azriel's eyes move from you.

Lucien reached his brother and whispered into his ear, "I need to talk to you. Now," Eris frowned and peered to you, noting your fluttering eyelids and the unease that radiated from you and nodded, moving to follow Lucien who sent you a reassuring smile before they exited the hall.

If it weren't for Nesta stood beside you, you surely would have crumbled. She stared down her own mate and friends, head dipped low and staring at them through her brows, anger seethed from her and you knew she was going over the consequences of ending Rhys' existence right there and then in her mind. Nesta was Lady Death and you were the Queen of Darkness.

For the next hour you stuck to the walls of the hall, muttering polite hellos as you did your best to keep a safe distance between you and Rhys.

The architecture was stunning, white marble walls and golden chandeliers, pale wood round tables stacked with sparkling wine flutes and food, long benches full of revellers enjoying the festivities. Artwork delicately hung from the walls, glittering in the crystal tinted glow of the chandeliers, sparkling in the light as the skies grew dark beyond the open arches.

Helion's bellowing laughter floated about the room, and you wondered how a life in Day could have turned out for you. Though, you didn't have long to think of it before a hand curled around your forearm and gently pulled you from the room. Eris was in front of you, gingerly holding your arm in his hand as he led you down a flurry of corridors, peering down each one quickly to ensure it was safe to go there.

The High Lord led you all the way out to a private balcony, where you could hear the waves crashing against the rocks and the breeze flutter around the corner. The torchlight danced in the wind, flickering softly as he turned to you. Breathing in, you felt peace, that autumn pine and orange, wilting leaves and warm autumn rain.

Sighing, you felt tears pool in your vision, turning it slightly blurry as you tried to drink him in, "Lucien told me what happened. Are you alright?"

That singular question broke a little piece of you, you couldn't remember the last time some asked if you were alright and were actually invested in the answer. The concern in his eyes and brows made a soft tug pull at your soul, "I'm suffocating."

Eris waited for you to continue, keeping a distance he thought you'd be comfortable with between you, though all you wanted was to know what his arms around you would feel like, what it would feel like to have his lips pressed to the bare skin of your shoulder.

"They've been lying to me, all of them. Nesta confirmed it. Rhys doesn't understand why he only has a fraction of my power, he sent them Under The Mountain to see if Amarantha did other things to me when she held me hostage in the beginning. I feel like a prisoner in my own home, they're all scared of me, even Azriel," your voice broke, never in a million years, in your existence, did you ever think you'd voice that Azriel was scared of you.

"None of them want to touch me or speak to me. I can't do it anymore. I thought Rhys just wanted to protect me, but now I know it was never about that, it was about keeping me hidden and away from everyone else, he made me a prisoner and I didn't even know it."

Wrapping your arms around yourself, your tears flowed freely down your cheeks and you made no move to wipe them away. Eris took a step closer to you, his shadow waltzing with your own, "Can I touch you?"

It took you a moment, a moment of his russet eyes on you and fingers fidgeting at his side until you nodded softly and he raised his hand. His fingertips lightly dusted up your arms and neck, they curled your hair around them and grazed along your jaw, and you felt electric under his touch that spready across every single part of you. His breath was warm over your face and you took a moment to appreciate him, his godly-crafted cheekbones and jaw, eyes that told a million stories, the golden freckled skin and his curved lips.

"I'm not afraid of you, Little Fawn. Nothing about you scares me," his finger curled under your chin and angled your head upward, "All you need to do is say the words. You are the author of your own story. Tell me what you want."

Rhys had let you believe that you had free will, he had allowed you to be outspoken and poised, he had let you believe that you were nothing more than a scare tactic, and you were too enthralled with your so-called family to realise what he had done. There was nothing free about your life, you weren't allowed to leave Velaris without supervision and even such occasions were rare, you weren't called upon in battle until there was no other choice, you were a pawn to him, one that he had masterfully toyed with.

"I want to go to the Autumn Court. With you. I want to denounce my place in the Night Court and leave Velaris," the words felt like poison in your mouth but your soul was thankful for it, and the storm in your soul had already began to break with golden sunlight.

Eris nodded and took a step toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest, your hands were flat against his waistcoat that had once again matched your own attire perfectly, "Your wish is my command, Little Fawn," and then you both disappeared in a swirl of light, leaving nothing but the joint bliss of your scents behind and dancing away in the night-kissed breeze.

Author's Note

I hope you love this! x

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams

[acourtofthought]

You know what I love about this scene and what comes after?

Lucien found out his mate, who he had never officially met, was engaged to and in love with someone else.

He wants to know if after meeting her, he should fight for a chance to be with her, to possibly put her in a position where she has to choose.

Later he does meet her but he doesn't decide that her hand is the thing worth fighting for, he decides her happiness and well being are worth fighting for.

He sees that she loves Graysen and that she's overwhelmed with sadness over the wedding that would not be taking place in a few days.

So he does not try to fight so that she might care for him instead, he does not try to "woo" her. He respects her feelings for another man.

He does however, fight for her to heal.

He fights for her mental health.

He fights for her to be happy even knowing that it's not him that she wants.

He tells them to take her to the sea, take her to some garden, to get her outside.

He asks them to have a healer look over over.

He volunteers to go on a dangerous mission proving that he sees her and believes in what she's seeing.

He does his best to help bring Elain back to life knowing full well it is not going to benefit him in the end. He's not getting something for his efforts besides knowing she'll be okay.

He fights to bring her back to life knowing she wants Graysen.

I can't think of anything more romantic than that.

[clockwork-ashes]

Daylight

The smallest of stones, the greatest of ripples.

Summary: Eris learns that Lucien is not Beron's son (one-shot).

Eris paced the small room, his steps soundless. Barefoot, ready for bed, cold rough stone to warm soft carpet. Over and over, again and again, a comfort. 

The smell of copper, sharp like night blooming flowers, hung in the air. Eris noticed that he had bitten through the inside of his cheek. He traced the wound with his tongue, the salt and metal of his blood enough to ground him, to clear his mind.  

Eris took a deep breath. He knew all the flames of this world, it was his birthright. Centuries he had lived, had witnessed much, gained enough wisdom. 

Eyes like gold, glowing unlike any fire made of Autumn, Eris had seen only a glimpse of it and had known. Magic was ancient, but simple, responding like a trained hound to those who had taken the time to learn its secrets. Stoked to life in the court he had been raised in, Eris would have recognised the flames as his own. 

Daylight. 

Sunbright, lovely, Lucien’s eyes had been twin stars in the darkness. 

It had taken every ounce of self control Eris possessed not to rear back at the sight, a death sentence. 

An oath taken, a promise made in blood, Eris had nearly forgotten. His mother’s hands, claws as she had gripped his arm, begged her eldest son to grant her strange request. Everything had been made clear as Eris had silently watched the Lady of Autumn gently stroke Lucien’s curls from his face, eyes half-lidded and gold only like sunlight could be. 

Small for his age and precious as all fae children were, Lucien was coddled by everyone in the Forest House.  

Half a decade, nothing in the grand scheme of things, and yet enough to change everything. The smallest of stones, the greatest of ripples. 

The flames in the fireplace flared, Eris tugged at the short strands of blood red hair at the nape of his neck. He felt like he was drowning, his head already below the water’s surface, Eris choked on his own fear. 

“Eris, please.” His mother’s voice was quiet, a tremor in her words as she took to begging him once more. For what, Eris did not know, and in the moment he could not be bothered to care. 

Eris whirled around to face her, smaller than he remembered, the Lady of Autumn looked up at her son. His fear was reflected in her eyes, the weight of knowing that an executioner’s axe hung just above Lucien’s head. 

“How could you?” Eris snarled, the words biting, accusatory. Never had he spoken to his mother in such a way, the softest of tones always reserved for her. 

She shook her head, loose strands falling from her braid and framing her thin face. Defeated, her shoulders curved as she curled in on herself. Eris hoped she felt guilty. “You wouldn’t understand,” she murmured, dismissive and soft.

A strangled laugh, short and unamused, was dragged from deep within Eris. His mother took a careful step towards him, and Eris took a measured step back. Closer in age than half his brothers, Eris had always understood the Lady of Autumn. “Six sons were not enough?” Eris snapped harshly.

“All children are a blessing,” she did not look at Eris as she said it, more to herself than to him anyway. 

Eris wondered if those were the words his mother had told herself when she had first married the High Lord. A half truth quietly whispered when she had been alone, but not entirely convincing despite how often it was said.   

“A fate worse than death awaits him,” Eris argued, sure that flames had come to life in his amber eyes, voice louder. “You’re lucky father is in Spring, or Lucien would be dead already.”

“You don’t know that,” hands clenched into fists at her side, the Lady of Autumn raised her own voice to match.

Eris felt as the temperature in the room changed, uncomfortably hot, the flames in the fireplace and in the torches along the wall responding to the raging emotions of them both. “It’s cruel,” he hissed, “it’s wrong.” 

A child born of an affair, Lucien was well and truly doomed, and who else was Eris to blame but the Lady of the Autumn Court.

“And you know much about cruelty,” the condemnation was clear in the tone his mother used. 

If Eris had taken a moment to think, to consider how worried and frightened she was, perhaps he would have known to stop their argument. Instead, Eris pointed a shaking finger, angry, at the female that had raised him as best she knew how. “And whose fault is that?” The question was bitter, all poison, meant to hurt. 

“You can be so much like your father.” 

The last word a growl, the statement hung between them. Eris would have rather she had taken a knife to his chest. 

Almost as though the Lady of Autumn had struck him, Eris flinched back. 

With a startled gasp, eyes wide in shock and lips parted, his mother put out her hand. Regret, clear as river water, flashed on her sharp features. But the words had been said. “Eris,” she took a step towards him, “I didn’t–” 

The door opened suddenly, the ancient hinges screaming in protest, cutting her sentence short. Eris was glad for it, wished he had not come home, would have preferred the war camps to this. 

Eris had assumed the door was locked, panic coursed through his veins as he wondered who might have heard. Relief, like rain during a drought, came over Eris as Lucien walked into the room. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard, Eris and his mother silent. 

Eyes half shut with sleep, russet once more, Lucien dragged his bare feet along with a small blanket behind him. Eris watched as he rubbed at his eyes with one hand, as he broke into a little yawn.

“Ris?” He mumbled, voice heavy. “I thought I heard your voice.” 

Eris watched as his mother moved towards her youngest son, expecting him to go to her. Instead, Lucien made his way to Eris, nearly tripping on the blanket he had brought with him. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Eris barely recognised his own voice. 

With a half-hearted shrug, Lucien knocked into Eris��s legs. “I heard you talking in the hall,” another yawn before he continued, “You didn’t come say goodnight.” Completely trusting and entirely unaware of all that had happened moments before he had entered the room, Lucien clung to Eris. 

The Lady of Autumn watched with wary eyes as Eris lifted Lucien into his arms gently. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He murmured. 

Lucien merely hummed his response, tired. Resting his head on Eris’s shoulder, his breaths slowing once more. 

Eris could see the pleading on his mother’s face, but he did not look at her long. He turned his attention to the arched window, watching the first rays of the sun inching over the horizon.  

Daylight.

[foxylady13]

SJM Interview and My Thoughts

Court of Maas has a transcript up of one of Sarah J Maas's interviews. There was some things I found very interesting from it.

Let's start with this one:

The "meeting a character and just knowing that they're the next story" screams Gwyn to me. Why? Because she was a new character that was introduced and Sarah had to meet. And Gwyn herself has lines in ACOSF that hint at more to come with her story (and Emeries)

“You had this much to say about us?” Emerie said, choking on a laugh. Gwyn rubbed her hands together. “With more to come.”

The back of her throat ached; her eyes stung. “We’re in a book.” Gwyn’s fingers slid into hers, squeezing tight. Nesta looked up to find her holding Emerie’s free hand as well. Gwyn smiled again, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.”

Also, Sarah's answer on the question if we'll get an Elain POV in the next book was met with "we'll see Elain in some form" which to me implies she's more than likely not the main character & that just adds to my previous statement.

Next we have this:

"She realized she wanted to write men who will do everything together with their partner and not insist on being 'the hero' themselves"

That screams like Azriel and Elain are a no go since we know Azriel likes being the hero when it comes to her. Just look at him going to Hybern Camp with Feyre to try to play hero... or what about in ACOSF when Cassian talks about Elain being captured and this is what was said by Azriel:

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all."

Azriel is "the hero" and will always insist that way with Elain. He's not the one for Elain.

But you know the pairings where the men will do everything together with their partner and not insist on being the hero for their partners? Gwynriel and Elucien.

We already see this with Azriel and Gwyn. He couldn't be the hero for Gwyn when she went into the Blood Rite because of the laws even Rhysand couldn't break. He even tells Cassian they trained them well and to trust in that training.

“There are plenty of other unspeakable things that could be happening to her,” Cassian said, voice thickening. “To Emerie and Gwyn.”

The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. “You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do.”

Also, here are even some ideas of them doing things together that fit with their pairings:

Elucien

Traveling to different courts & explore the world together. Hosting parties and being politically savvy.

Gardening - I actually have a commission of this I'll post soon 🤭

Cooking/Baking - Lucien will want to help Elain and it's something I can see then enjoying doing together given their personalities.

Gwynriel

Spy missions. Training. Singing.

Research in the library for universe theories or general reading & just imagine them sitting up in bed together reading passages to one another, analyzing them, theorizing. Thank you @alex-catlady for this one!

Flying - Gwyn on a Pegasus and Azriel flying beside her. Maybe even making into a race for a little competition? Azriel flying with Gwyn in his arms.

[daliasmay]

Elain Archeron !!WIP lineart!!

Lucien is coming!

I hope I will finish their Spring dance soon.

Hello!

I would like to share with you my little lineart.

I've wanted to draw lineart since I was 15. On May 6, I'll be 23 years old and I finally got around to drawing it! I`m so happy now!

I haven't painted for a long time. Some work and university, then my laziness... It always got in the way😂 I'm still studying and getting the next stage of higher education, and trying to paint a little bit at a time🦉

Last year I read acotar. And it's a great feeling when there's a source of inspiration that makes you pick up a pencil again and try to do something.

I'm so happy that I was able to make a complete lineart that I like and that gives me warm feelings.

If I don't finish it because of work or my study or my lazinessssss, well, that's another small step forward anyway. I just wanted to share🌞 But I will try to finish it anyway👊🏼

[the-darkestminds]

For everyone who acts like Lucien is all soft and docile…need I remind you that in book one, when he thought Rhys was evil and might kill him with half a thought, he STILL talked back, called him a whore, SPAT at him, and threatened him with a sword. My man is so feisty.

[chewiescorner]

On Elain

You are "pro-elain" because you have a flat perception of her character that is shrouded in purity culture. You treat her like a self-insert feminine entity to wipe away a dark, tortured Azriel of his sins. The same Azriel that only lusts after her and desires her because a) she's the prettiest of the Archerons and b) he will NEVER be able to "have" her.

I'm pro-elain because I want better for her and I recognize that the IC is dogshit - they do not care about Elain or see her true potential. You know who does though? Her mate. Her equal. The person she's spiritually most alike and connected to. Another youngest sibling who is neglected by his family and the world, who has lost someone they thought was their "true love", who shares Elain's qualities of boundless kindess and tactful diplomacy. He was the ONLY one to go on a deadly mission on pure faith that Elain's visions were true. Elain, who is "loyal like a dog" (according to Nesta), deserves someone equally loyal back.

We are not the same. Miss me with that bullshit PLEASE-

[animezinglife]

I don’t want a career. I want Lucien.

[copypastus]

Day 4 of @tamlinweek - Calanmai

Vaguely based off @thrumugnyr's Calanmai comic. Word got around the Great Rite accepts dudes now.

[teddyhoneybear]

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓔𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓷,

𝓐𝓽𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓪 𝓽𝓾𝓵𝓲𝓹, 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓶𝔂 𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽, 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓼𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓪 𝓫𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓼𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰. 𝓘’𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓽.

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓮𝓷,

𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓰𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂, 𝓪𝓼 𝓪 𝓵𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓼, 𝓘 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓾𝓵𝓲𝓹 𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓪 𝓫𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓸𝓯 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓶𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓮𝓭𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓽𝓪𝓫𝓵𝓮, 𝓪𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝓯𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽. 𝓘 𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓪𝓷 𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓮𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓾𝓹𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓘 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓭, 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱 𝓶𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓻 𝓶𝓪𝔂 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓸𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓷.

Inspired by Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic by @crazy-ache and @zenkindoflove

[yaralulu]

Tell me why when rhys visited the spring court for the first time in acotar he mentioned the lady of autumn THREE TIMES to try and taunt lucien. Bringing her up more than once in a span of like four minutes was already insane but it doesn’t even stop there because he continues to do it in acomaf.Stop dragging his momma into this and leave the poor woman alone what’s wrong with you 😭.