#@isnotwhatyourethinking

[rainstormsdarling]

A Court Across Seas and Stars

Chapter 2

In the recent snow, the yellow gleam of lamps washed over the cobbled streets, reflecting off the signs of nearby shops and cafes. Warm amber and rose, neon blues and greens thrust beams into the full dark that was falling. The glowing metropolis of Edinburgh in late December was stunning, the grand Old Town buildings with their ornate facades contrasted against the magnetic energy of the diverse pubs and restaurants. People spilled out onto the streets, talking and laughing. Night was falling quickly but the city was just coming alive with light. 

Feyre turned left at the end of the lane, towards the community garden and away from the congested traffic and colourful lights. She cut through the park on the way to and from her flat each day, and never got tired of walking through the shady green canopy, wooded and dim and wet. As a gust of wind stirred the branches overhead, she remembered the strong sense of magic she had felt here when she was younger, not dissimilar to what she had felt this afternoon in the library. It felt like a world within a world, a place she had imagined as a child where one of the winding paths might take her to another land. But it hadn’t happened then, and whatever it was that happened today - it couldn't happen now.

A breathtaking echo of something wistful rolled through her as she thought of the stranger in the library. There was something about his presence, even down to the cadence of his speech, that was thrilling and ancient and wild. The tunnel of trees finally opened, and Feyre lifted her face to the sky, watching the moon drip eerie light onto the heavy grey clouds below as they passed beneath - the calm before the storm. 

The tranquillity in the air evaporated with the fast approaching sound of footsteps. She glanced over her shoulder and stopped dead in her tracks.

‘Feyre. Could you wait for a moment? ’ That voice. Rhysand’s voice, low and level. It felt familiar to her now, at least in tone, although it ought not to. 

She turned around fully, her eyebrow hiked. ‘Rhysand. What do you want?’

But his gaze was still focused on the street ahead, the buses and cars rolling by, with their beeping horns, and the familiar fast beats of city streets as they passed. He looked dazed. 

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

His eyes travelled back to hers. ‘Feyre, you must believe me, I am..’ He took a breath, and his voice lowered as he stepped closer. ‘Not from this time, from this place. And I need to get back to my world, immediately.’

She stared up at him warily. Something about his expression halted her, catching her snarky reply on her tongue. Looking past his strong mouth and sharp cheekbones, his tan skin looked too pale and his eyes too bewildered. A muscle feathered in his jaw, ‘Please, Feyre. You saw the book did you not? Somehow I have traveled to this world…’ he gestured to the street beyond as he said desperately, ‘and I need to know where I am, and if I can get back.’ His broad chest expanded as he took a breath. A bitter gust of wind blew, sending his shirt billowing. She noticed then just how inadequate his attire was for midwinter in Scotland. Her eyes traveled back up to him in speculation. He gazed back imploringly, waiting. 

‘You truly don’t know anyone here?’ She asked. He nodded stiffly. The idea that this man was really from another world, and could somehow travel through them was more than Feyre could comprehend. But… she did see that ancient book glow, felt the tang and mineral grittiness of magic as it filled the air and stung her nose. 

Big, fat drops of rain started to fall, and she pulled up the hood on her coat. They dripped down his forehead and spotted his shirt. She watched the spots grow, turning transparent as they stuck to his skin. As much as she wanted to believe she imagined what had happened, if he was telling the truth, leaving him here alone would be thoughtless. When she met his gaze, those violacious eyes beseeching, she wished she had some of her wary sensibility back. There was so much about him that made little sense to her, and she felt frozen in place as he unravelled her with his eyes. 

Apprehensive, she took a step backwards, and he raised one hand to calm her. 

‘Do not fear me. I will not harm you.’ He said evenly. 

But Feyre was afraid. Not of him, no, she was afraid of what had happened in the library that afternoon because it made no sense in the analytical, rational part of her mind. She didn’t think she was afraid of him for some unfathomable reason, because there was something low in her stomach, something purely instinctual that recognised him on some level. Even if she didn’t understand what that was yet. 

As they stared at each other, he exhaled then backed away another step.

‘I’m sorry. I never should have followed you here.’ He looked away, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. ‘I’m sorry’ he said again quietly, his expression slipping into something unreadable before bowing his head and turning away.

Her heart started pounding, and she knew that she was being more than a little reckless when she shouted, ‘Wait!’ 

He stopped and turned, the corners of his lips drawn downwards.

‘Why don’t you come with me,’ she said quietly.

His eyes widened fractionally, and he stepped back towards her, wiping the rain off his face. 

She remembered the umbrella in her bag and hastily took it out, opening it with a woosh. Gesturing for him to come closer. ‘Look, Rhysand… we can’t go back to the library tonight. It’s storming and I’m cold and all I want to do is go home and have a long bath.’ She looked up at him and knew she sounded whiny. ‘I can… try to answer your questions, but why don’t we get somewhere warm and have some food first?’

His eyebrows drew together and he nodded. ‘Yes. That would be… most appreciated. Thank you, Feyre.’

‘Okay then.’ She smiled weakly. ‘Let's go,’ and inclined her head towards the continuing path, the wet pavement gleaming under the soft orange lamplights. She lifted the umbrella to allow Rhysand to be concealed underneath, and he moved closer, his body crouching low, before she allowed him to take the handle and hold it over them both.

She didn’t know if it was the moisture in the air, but his scent of sun-ripened citrus, salty wood and cedar wrapped around her as he pulled her closer to him, the umbrella protecting them against the downpour. As they splashed through puddles in the heavy rain she envisioned swimming in a cliff-lined cove, the soft drift of smoke wafting… where sensuality rose after night had fallen. The painting was almost fully formed in her minds eye. 

She dragged herself back to the present as she saw the familiar lights of her apartment building come into view, and they walked towards the narrow stairway squashed between the local Thai takeaway, Aom’s, and the newsagents. Feyre pushed open the security door and walked inside the building, holding the door for Rhysand to enter. He looked around the stairwell, noting the flickering yellow lamp and paused. 

‘This way’ she said, walking up the stairs ahead of him, ‘I’m on the 2nd floor.’ 

They were halfway through climbing the stairs when Rhysand broke the silence, ‘Feyre, won’t your - family or uh husband… mind you bringing me home with you?’ he asked carefully,  his voice slipping over her like warm honey.

‘Oh no, I live alone.’ she replied, continuing up the stairs.

‘You do?’ 

‘Yes,’ she chuckled, ‘Is that so hard to believe?’ she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder. 

‘Well, where I am from, human women do not usually live on their own.’

They rounded the stairs and she got her keys out. ‘Well, I think we can safely establish that our worlds are fairly different, don't you think?’ she offered. 

He nodded, ‘Yes’ the corners of his full mouth lifting, but his eyes tightened. Assessing.

She opened the door, holding it out for him. Glanced down at the empty stairwell at the neighboring apartment, and then back to him again. ‘Why don’t we talk inside? Somehow I don’t think my neighbors would be accustomed to this topic of conversation.’

He appraised her for a moment longer, decidedly agreeing, then walked inside. His petrichor-rich scent washed over her as he passed. Even his smell was intoxicating, intensely masculine, and sinisterly attractive. She watched him as he cast a brief but thorough glance around the living area of her flat. Now that he was inside, the space felt too small, cramped almost. He didn't just occupy space in a room, he owned it, saturated it. Where there was her green kitchen, benchtops stacked with papers and books, vanilla caramel candles, and bowls of fruit, now there was only him. Filling it with his strong presence, so that it was all she could see, all she could focus on.

Suddenly nervous, she quickly turned away, shutting and locking the door. Taking the moment to steady her mind before turning around. Bracing herself, she stepped purposefully towards the kitchen island and dropped her bag onto one of the barstools.

‘Well, um this is it. My home I mean.’ She watched him warily, noting how his rain-soaked shirt clung to him. Before he could answer she asked,  ‘Would you like a shower or something? I can put your clothes in the wash if you want?’

He blinked, then nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

‘Alright. Come with me’ she smiled, leading him to the hallway. She opened the linen cupboard and took a towel out before handing it to him. She gestured to the door opposite, ‘That's my bedroom', she walked further down the hallway. ‘And this is the laundry and bathroom’, pointing to the doors on her right. 

‘Go ahead’ she nodded towards the bathroom door, ‘I’ll try to find something you can change into’ and walked towards her open bedroom. 

She doubted anything would fit him, considering his stature. But there could be an old bathrobe somewhere that might do the job for the time being. It was either that or… nothing. Resisting the urge to indulge herself further in that particular thought, she rifled through the back of her built-in closet, pulling out a fluffy pastel blue bathrobe that was at least two sizes too big. She grabbed it, and walked back to the bathroom where he was looking at her hairdryer with a puzzled expression. He held it up to her, dangling the cord in front of her face. 

‘What is this instrument? I’ve never seen anything like it’ 

She found herself grinning, ‘That is a hair dryer. For drying your hair.’ 

His eyebrows pinched together as he studied it once more. 

‘Here take this’ she shoved the bathrobe into his hands, ‘Let me show you.’

She plugged the hairdryer into the wall socket and turned it on, the rattling sound of hot spinning air coming on at once. He jumped back, startled, withdrawing a dagger and almost tripping into the bathtub. 

‘Sorry, sorry’ she hastily turned it off, stumbling back. He looked at her in alarm, before seeming to remember the dagger in his hand and carefully sheathed it again. 

‘No, no. I’m sorry’ he repeated after her. There was a protracted silence and then she burst out into laughter, semi-hysterical bursts that made her eyes brim with water. This whole situation was too bizarre. 

Catching her breath, she looked up to him with tears in her eyes. ‘I think I might put this away now…’ she trailed off, ‘Unless you’d like to use it?’ she said with a chuckle. His eyes were alight with concern, and maybe a quiet hum of amusement too. But he shook his head firmly.

‘Thank you, but perhaps not today’ he said, grimacing.

‘Okay.’ She put the blasted thing in the cupboard under the sink. ‘There’s some soap and shampoo and stuff in the shower if you need it.’ She looked back to him, where his dagger was safely strapped away once more at his hip, and debated telling him to put it elsewhere while he was in her house but she doubted it would make a difference. At least he hadn’t unsheathed that sword again from where she could see its hilt peeking over his broad shoulder. 

‘I'll go start on dinner now’. She paused. ‘Is pasta alright? You’re not allergic to anything are you?’

‘No I'm not allergic to anything.' His lips quirked in an echo of a smile, before pausing. 'I’m sure anything you make me will be fine.’ He said softly, before facing his back to her.

‘Okay’ She turned to go, closing the bathroom door behind her. But not before she caught him whispering, ‘Thank you Feyre.’ 

Notes: Thank you everyone for reading so far I appreciate each and everyone of you! As I mentioned this is my first fanfic (and first work ever to be perfectly honest) so please bear with me (I'm sure each chapter is laden with grammatical and spelling mistakes... eeek!). In terms of the story... well Rhys has somehow managed to transport himself to modern day Scotland, rest assured both he and Feyre will make it back to Prythian and be reunited with the IC... Please let me know what you want to see :)

See here for more

[velarisdusk]

Dreams of You

Day 7: Wet Dream | Cassian word count: 500 author’s note: ugh idk something about a man being so desperate and pining for you in his time alone is like..... whew.. conscious or not idc you get it ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦

Cassian stirs in his sleep, his massive form sprawled across the bed, limbs tangled in the sheets. His brow furrows, lips parting with a soft, broken sigh, a breath catching like he’s chasing something just out of reach. His hips move in slow, languid rolls against the mattress, a rhythmic grind that speaks of need. 

In his mind, you’re there — radiant, bathed in a soft, golden glow, every detail of you vivid and enticing. Your fingers trail down his chest, light as a whisper, teasing him in a way that leaves him aching, desperate for more. He shifts again, his muscles tensing as he chases the warmth of your touch. His hands fist the sheets, knuckles white, as if he could somehow pull you closer, draw you into him.

The sounds of your pleasure — soft moans, breathy sighs — echo in his ears, sweet and distant, like a promise just out of reach. He groans, the sound low and needy, as his hips push harder into the bed. His breath hitches, sharp and shallow, as the tension winds tighter within him, rippling through his body with every movement. 

He can almost feel it — the heat of your breath, the brush of your lips near his skin, so close yet just out of reach. His hips buck forward, grinding into the mattress with more force, a ragged sound escaping his throat, half growl, half plea. His chest rises and falls in erratic bursts, every breath more strained than the last, every muscle clenching with the primal need for you. 

In his dream, your fingers glide lower, teasing along the ridges of his stomach, sending a shiver through him. You hover just above the part of him that aches the most, your touch maddening, igniting the hunger he can barely control. His hips jerk, his body pressing harder into the bed, desperate for release, the sheets pulling taut beneath him as he grinds down. His mind reaches for you, craves you.

Your name spills from his lips, soft and reverent, barely a whisper, but heavy with need. His voice is thick, every syllable a prayer. His entire body quivers, his hips rolling in slow, desperate movements, as if he can feel the weight of you pressing down on him, the warmth of you wrapped around him. His world narrows, his mind consumed with the singular, burning need for you. 

Cassian’s brow furrows deeper, a low groan tearing from his throat as his hips snap forward one last time. The sound is broken, laced with frustration and longing, filled with the weight of everything he longs for but can never say, not in waking hours. The ache of desire for what is just beyond his reach coils tighter around him, a constant reminder of the unspoken yearning that shadows his every thought. Even in sleep, you remain the center of him — his breath, his desire, his dream.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@starlightazriel @nvdax @halo-hanging @paleidiot @kismet27

@mellowmusings @gracielacie @d3ad-ins1de @loviseamms @inkedinshadows

@natasha153 @deathdoordoctor @spacebananabud @secretsicanthideanymore @edance2000

@lorosette @alykatv @honethatty12 @hellabizzy @serena-capella

@acoazlove @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @scorpioriesling @hannzoaks @confusedsezure

@elenapri0502 @isnotwhatyourethinking @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @scarsandallaz @julesvanslutta

@90angiex @sizzlingstarlightsky @fourthwing4ever

[velarisnightsky444]

Angel of Music

Flufftober Day 14: Singing to Sleep with Azriel

Azriel x Rhysand!Sister OC

AN: This is a little sneak peak for my Stargirl fic. OC is Rhysand's twin sister and Azriel's mate. She has some trauma, but it's not something you need to know for just reading this excerpt.

CW: Nightmares, insomnia

Summary: OC is struggling to sleep, and she asks for help from her mate.

Word Count: 410

October Masterlist

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

     I woke up with a harsh gasp, jolting straight up, loud breaths leaving my lips as I tried to catch my breath. The pitiful tears were streaming down my face, tears I had cried in my sleep. In my dreams, I was right back in that horrific place. I would never, ever escape. 

     I thought that with time, the nightmares would go away. But it had been so long, and still, I dreamed of those terrible years. I saw his face every time I closed my eyes, and I couldn't stand it anymore. 

     Azriel groaned as he woke up, his hazel eyes fluttering open, a yawn on his lips. He sat up when he noticed the state I was in, his wing wrapping around me delicately. 

"Nightmare again?" he asked gently, his soft voice laced with lethargy. 

"Yes," I whispered, sniffling as I wiped the tears from my violet eyes. "I can't sleep, Azzy." 

"What's wrong, love?" he murmured softly into my ear. 

"I don't want to have another nightmare," I replied, tucking myself into his strong arms. 

We laid back down on the bed, my head resting on his broad chest. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me closer to him. I nuzzled my face in his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. Reminding myself that he was real, and my dreams were not. 

"Will you sing to me?" I asked him, my quiet voice shaking just slightly. 

"Sing?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

"Like my mother used to when none of us could sleep," I recalled, the memories of her voice singing in my head. She had such a beautiful, soothing voice. And when she sang, my nightmares disappeared. 

"I remember," he hummed, kissing my cheek softly. "Okay, baby."

A smile stretched across my features, my eyes closing as he began to sing one of the lullabies my mother had sung to us as kids. My favorite. One she had sung since Rhys and I were just little babes. 

A maiden mother, meek and mild, In cradle keep, a knavë child, That softly sleep; she sat and sang. Baw me bairne, sleep softly now.

He had the voice of an angel. It made me sad that I was the only one he shared his gorgeous voice with. I always encouraged him to share his singing with others. But he was shy, something I had always found cute about him.  

His voice calmed me into a deep sleep. One free of nightmares. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Kink/Fluff/Angstober Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @danikamariemain @book-obsessed124 @winchesterbbygrl @kissesfrommads @binnieonabike @fourthwing4ever @ghostslittlegf @mollygetssherlockcoffee @hawke1917 @nesta-houseofwindfantasy @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @honk4emoboys @rogerbarnesxx @a-courtof-azriel @kodokunarisu-blog @dxjaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @littlepippilongstocking

Azriel Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @panther-girl-124 @tangled-sun @hawke1917

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @anneas11 @andreperez11 @isnotwhatyourethinking @effervescentbutterfly

comment to be added to any of the taglists!

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

[fieldofdaisiies]

elain x lucien | warnings: none | masterlist | ao3

Waking up with Elain in his arms has become a habit he never wants to not have in his life anymore. It is the perfect start into the day. 

A day full of woodchopping with Jurian. He promised to help, but he obviously can’t say no now, even if all he wants to do is stay here, in bed, with Elain in his arms.

A week has passed since she has brought him to tears with her words. A week where he has only fallen more and more in love with her.

So it would be an understatement to say that it pains him that he has to leave the cosy and slightly toasty comfort of their bed. It technically is his bed, but telling by how much she loves to be in it, Lucien deems it right to call it their bed.

If he could, he would freeze time right at this moment. Everything feels so right and good, and he doesn’t want a single thing to change. He just wants to be here, with her in his arms. His heart is at ease and feels full of life and love. There are things that are on his mind —Helion and Koschei— but when she is with him his mind can rest and he can allow himself to forget about all his worries. His fears. Fears of rejection and pain. When he is with Elain, he feels seen, loved, validated. He feels good.

Eventually, however, he pulls himself up, leaving the warmth of the bed and Elain— of course, not before kissing the side of her head. Elain grumbles some incomprehensible words, her voice groggy with sleep and buries her face in the crook of her elbow before falling right back asleep.

Lucien has to chuckle, his hand brushing down her waist before pulling the blanket up to her shoulder. "I‘ll be back soon."

The air outside is still crisp, but the scent of winter has been replaced by those of dewy grass, damp earth and a hint of sweetness coming from the early wildflowers — crocuses as Elain explained to him.

The light of the early morning sun filters through the canopy of trees above their heads, bathing the forest in a soft, yellow-greenish hue. Lucien knows Elain would love it here right now and the sole thought of her makes him smile, he just can’t avoid it.

His axe hoisted over his shoulder, Jurian glances at his friend as they reach the clearing where the big trunk of wood is waiting for the smaller chunks to be cut. The former general catches sight of the smile on Lucien’s face and grins. "I think I have never seen you this happy before, Vanserra."

Lucien’s brow lifts in silent surprise at how observant his friend is. He opens his mouth to answer, but Jurian beats him to it. "I‘m glad things are finally going in the right direction between the two of you. She is good for you."

"Thank you," Lucien answers, honestly surprised over his friend’s kind words, and a sheepish smile blooms on his lips.

"And you are good for her. I can see how much she has flourished since coming here and being with you. She was like a flower withering in winter, and now she is a ray of sunshine."

continue on ao3

general Elucien tag list  @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop @aayo-whatt @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone @berryzxx @jules-writes-stories @bookishbroadwaybish @the-darkestminds @goldenmagnolias @isnotwhatyourethinking

[cassianappreciationweek]

⚔︎ Day Six Round-Up: Birthday ⚔︎

Fics:

Celebration (Cassian x OC) by @littlestw01f

Birthday… cake? (Cassian x Reader) by @lady-of-tearshed

One for the Ages (Cassian x Reader) by @isnotwhatyourethinking

Hands Down (Nessian) by @wishcamper

It’s My Party, I’ll Cry If I Want To (Nessian) by @unhealthyfanobsession

Art:

Nessian fanart by @dustjacketdraws

Nessian fanart commissioned by @c-e-d-dreamer

Cassian taking a nap fanart by @nesta-apologist

Other:

Birthday {Cheers} by @bookishwithathought

[velarisnightsky444]

Breathe

Angstober Day 12: Panic Attack with Cassian

CW: Anxiety, panic attack, allusions to past SA(she's a priestess)

AN: Guys I've posted so many of these today

Summary: You have a panic attack during training, and Cassian helps calm you down.

Word Count: 558

October Masterlist

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

It took a year of Gwyn's pestering for you to work up the courage to train with the rest of the Priestesses. It wasn't until Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie completed the blood rite that you talked yourself into joining. You figured if they could complete such an incredible challenge, you could train. 

Some days were easier than others. Sometimes, you enjoyed yourself at training, and you found that you felt yourself getting stronger. Other days, it was a struggle to leave the sanctuary of the library. And you had to force yourself to get through the training. 

Today was a struggle. You'd been plagued with nightmares all night, only seeing the face of your attacker. You'd confided in Gwyn that morning, and she had told you that if you needed the day off, nobody would judge you. But you felt that you needed to come to training. 

You were landing hit after hit on the punching bags, tears welling up in your eyes, even as you tried to blink them away. He had turned you into a shell of yourself, and you would never, ever be the same. You couldn't even get through the day without seeing him, feeling him. 

Your breaths were becoming rapid, tears blinding you, and your punches becoming sloppy. You could feel your chest closing up, and you knew what was happening. You stopped punching, trying to breathe, but feeling as though air was not getting to your lungs. 

Your blood roared in your ears, in a way that made you feel like you were dying. You collapsed onto the ground, squeezing your eyes shut. If anyone had noticed what was happening, you wouldn't know. 

Every breath was a violent attempt to get air to your lungs, and it hurt like hell. Breathing fucking hurt. You had no control, black spots appearing in your vision. And his fucking face was all you could see in your mind. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay," a voice said. The only thing you could hear over the roaring in your ears, and your erratic heartbeat. "You're going to be alright, YN." 

You recognized the voice as Cassian's, but you couldn't see him. You couldn't see anything through your tears and the spots in your vision. But you could feel his presence, could feel him kneeling in front of you. 

"Look at me," he said softly. 

You couldn't lift your head. But he lifted your chin very delicately, forcing you to look up at him. You could just barely make out his figure. He reached out, taking your shaking hands in his. And you held onto them, grounding yourself. 

Your tears didn't stop, but the black spots faded just a bit. The only thing you could see clearly were his eyes. His hazel eyes that were so full of sincerity and concern. 

"That's it," he murmured. "Breathe for me, YN." 

You nodded as best you could, trying to calm your breathing, even if it was nearly impossible. He guided you in your breaths, reminding you of the breathing meditation he had taught you for moments like this one. 

You didn't care that everyone was watching. You held onto his hands and breathed with him, calming yourself down. 

Because your attacker was dead. And it was not him in front of you. 

It was Cassian. 

And Cassian would never hurt you. 

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Kink/Fluff/Angstober Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @danikamariemain @book-obsessed124 @winchesterbbygrl @kissesfrommads @binnieonabike @fourthwing4ever @ghostslittlegf @mollygetssherlockcoffee @hawke1917 @nesta-houseofwindfantasy @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @honk4emoboys @rogerbarnesxx @a-courtof-azriel @kodokunarisu-blog @dxjaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @littlepippilongstocking

Cassian Taglist:

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @anneas11 @andreperez11 @isnotwhatyourethinking @effervescentbutterfly

comment to be added to any of the taglists.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

[velarisnightsky444]

My Love

Flufftober Day 11: Love Letters with Rhys

CW: Mentions of war. Actually a bit angsty for flufftober lol.

Summary: Rhys is off fighting in the first war, and you rarely see him. You savor the love letters he sends when he can.

Word Count: 377

October Masterlist

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

In the last five years, you had only seen your mate a handful of times. It shattered your heart, knowing he was out there fighting. Every time you saw him, you were haunted by the knowledge that it could be your last day together.

What you savored more than anything were the letters he sent you. They were rare, only sent when he was able. But you kept every single one in the drawer of your bedside table. Before you went to sleep every night, you read them all.

Today, you were cleaning the windows of your bedroom when a letter appeared on your desk. Your heart leapt in your chest, your eyes lighting up. You dropped the wet rag on the floor, unable to care enough to pick it up.

You gripped the letter from your off of your desk, ripping it open without care. The letter was written on rough parchment, but he had taken care with his words, each one written deliberately and in tidy handwriting.

My dearest, YN, I miss you with every ounce of my being. You are the first thing I think of when I wake, and the last before I go to sleep. Even with all of the blood and carnage around me, I still believe in good, because of you. Because of our love. You make me believe, even with everything I have witnessed in the last five years. I see your face in my mind at every moment. I hear your voice, your laugh. I feel your touch, and smell your perfume. I cannot wait for the day we are reunited for good. I have a feeling it will be soon. We are making progress, and I can tell the war is nearing an end. That will be the happiest day of my life. I love you, my dear, YN. I will never stop loving you. Yours always, Rhys

Tears fell from your eyes, staining the parchment. You read the letter over and over again, until you had memorized the words. You would never forget them. The words of your mate, the love of your life.

And you believed in his hope. Hope that the war was nearing it's end.

Hope that you would be reunited with your mate once more.

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

Kink/Fluff/Angstober Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @danikamariemain @book-obsessed124 @winchesterbbygrl @kissesfrommads @binnieonabike @fourthwing4ever @ghostslittlegf @mollygetssherlockcoffee @hawke1917 @nesta-houseofwindfantasy @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @honk4emoboys @rogerbarnesxx @a-courtof-azriel @kodokunarisu-blog @dxjaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @littlepippilongstocking

Rhysand Taglist:

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @anneas11 @andreperez11 @isnotwhatyourethinking @effervescentbutterfly

comment to be added to any of the taglists!

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

[velarisnightsky444]

Rain Makes Everything Better

Flufftober Day 8: Rainy Days With Nesta

CW: Nothing, just pure fluff and happy Nesta

AN: Me actually catching up with my October fics? Omg.

Summary: Your mate is happiest when it rains

Word Count: 308

October Masterlist

»»——⍟——««

You rarely saw Nesta smiling. Even when she was truly happy, smiling wasn't something she often did. It made you sad, because you thought her smile was the nicest thing in the world.

But as you walked into the House of Wind's private library, you saw her curled up by the window, cuddled in a blanket, a content smile on her features as she read a book.

A mild storm roared on outside of the window, rain hitting the glass, and gentle bursts of thunder sounding every few minutes. Flashes of lightning lit the room, but you were both safe and warm inside.

You watched your mate for a while before making your presence known, savoring that expression of happiness on her perfect face. She was more beautiful than she'd ever know, especially when she was happy.

When you were ready, you carefully stepped into the room, not wanting to disturb her. She glanced up from her book, and to your surprise, continued smiling as she met your eyes. Her silver gaze was one that intimidated most, but never you.

"Care to join me?" she asked.

"Could I ever refuse such a lovely offer?" you challenged, breezing over to the female.

No fire roared in the fireplace, but the House had made the room nice and toasty, nevertheless. Once she had discovered that she could simply ask the House to warm a room, she never had to bother with fires again.

You got onto the couch beside her, and she shared her blanket with you, wrapping it around your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around your mate, resting your head on her shoulder and closing your eyes.

"You seem happy today, Nes," you observed.

"Rain makes everything better," she replied simply.

And as the sound of rain and thunder soothed and relaxed you, you found you did not disagree.

»»——⍟——««

Kink/Fluff/Angstober Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @danikamariemain @book-obsessed124 @winchesterbbygrl @kissesfrommads @binnieonabike @fourthwing4ever @ghostslittlegf @mollygetssherlockcoffee @hawke1917 @nesta-houseofwindfantasy @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @honk4emoboys @rogerbarnesxx @a-courtof-azriel @kodokunarisu-blog @dxjaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @littlepippilongstocking

Nesta Taglist:

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @anneas11 @andreperez11 @isnotwhatyourethinking @effervescentbutterfly

comment to be added to any of the taglists!

»»——⍟——««

[fieldofdaisiies]

elain x lucien | warnings: explicit content | masterlist | ao3

Elain‘s back bows off the bed as Lucien‘s tongue dives deep into her, her knees wobbly, mind foggy with passion and heat. The two of them have lost every sense of time and space — they only know that they haven’t left this room in a long, long time. Days, weeks, months, years. Millenia probably.

Apart from short breaks where they slept, ate or talked for a bit, they have mostly been making love. Mostly in bed, but occasionally also on every other surface available in their room. A chair was broken in their frenzy. The bed is starting to groan more and more each time their bodies come together, every time their souls collide and erupt in something akin to bright sunlight.

"Lucien," Elain cries out and in a desperate attempt to reach for something to hold onto, she tangles her fingers into Lucien’s hair. He growls against her centre when she tugs sharply, the vibrations of it coursing through her. Release once again crashes into her with a sharp impact and she dissolves into bliss.

Lucien’s idea to clean up afterwards is only half successful. They make it to the bath, and they even bathe. Yet when Lucien rises to leave the tub and wants to gather a towel for his mate, his gaze falls on Elain, still sitting down, her eyes hooded, desire shimmering brightly in the deep brown.

Their bodies move almost of their own accord, fast and frenzied.

Kneeling in front of him, Elain looks up at her mate through her lashes, her lips, swollen from all the kisses and damp with saliva and bath water, parted. "You are so beautiful," she breathlessly expresses and her hand curls around the shaft of his length. Elain kisses the crown of his cock before her lips part around him and she takes him into her mouth — a first for her. She has never done this before, but the way he looks at her gives her confidence. Her lips fasten around him as she takes him deeper, starting to bob her head.

Lucien’s eyes roll back in his head when he throws his head back, long hair shifting over his shoulders with the movement. He tries to keep his thrusts shallow, his hips still in order to not gag her, to not fuck her face.

Still, Elain’s eyes start to water when the broad crown of his length hits the back of her mouth and she gags. Coughs. But she doesn’t stop. 

Using her lips and eventually also her hand together, she looks up at him. Lucien is a sight for sore eyes — his sculpted chest, the plains of muscles, are coated in a thin film of sweat that makes his dark skin shimmer in the dim light. His head is thrown back, the tendons in his throat standing out when he swallows roughly. And as if he can feel her gaze on him, a sensual grin breaks out on his lips, and slowly he lowers his chin to his chest.

Eventually, he meets her gaze — his eyes are twin flames of passion. Of hunger and fire.

continue on ao3

general Elucien tag list  @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop @aayo-whatt @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone @berryzxx @jules-writes-stories @bookishbroadwaybish @the-darkestminds @goldenmagnolias @isnotwhatyourethinking

[velarisnightsky444]

The Worst Pain

Angstober Day 9: Grief with Mor

CW: Major character death, grief, mentions of violence

A/N: Drew lots of inspiration from ACOWAR when (SPOILER) Rhys dies.

Summary: The war was fought, but not everyone made it. This takes place during the first war.

Word Count: 491

October Masterlist

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You felt the exact moment the bond in your chest went dead.

The dread that filled you was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. Falling over you from your head to your toes, in a sickening wave of horror.

You reached for the thread, tried with everything you had to pull on it, but there was nothing. Nothing but you. You were all you could feel, and you had forgotten what that was like. Because you'd been able to feel her since the moment the bond snapped, a decade before.

You flipped around and took off in a run. Running towards where you had last seen her on the battlefield, your heartbeat in your throat and your mind racing. High Fae, Lesser Fae, and humans alike still fought all around you, but you didn't have it in you to care.

You needed to find her.

She wasn't where you last saw her. But you knew if something had happened, her family would know. Her family that she loved so fiercely, yet could not bring herself to tell about the bond between you two. The family the both of you had been hiding your love from for a decade.

And when you arrived at their tent, you found that nobody was outside of it. You didn't bother alerting them of your presence before you barged in.

What you found had your stomach dropping to your feet.

Rhys sat in the middle of the floor, tears streaming down his face, sobs leaving his lips.

In his arms, was your mate. Her eyes closed, her golden hair falling over his lap and onto the floor. Blood seeping from her closed mouth.

And a dagger in her heart.

The heart that belonged to you, just you. The heart that she hid from the world, to protect it from the hands of her father. The heart that she loved so strongly with.

"Morrigan," you whispered, tears forming in your eyes.

Azriel came to your side, a hand on your shoulder, and his eyes red and puffy. You wrenched your arm from his grip, narrowing your eyes at him.

"How could you let this happen?" you yelled, not just at Azriel, but at all of them. "You were supposed to protect her!"

Cassian's muffled sobs became louder from the corner he was in, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care about his grief, because yours was overwhelming.

You rushed to Rhys, dropping to your knees in front of him. You stared down at your mate, so perfect even in death. You reached for her, the tears streaming down your face as you took her from Rhys's arms and held her in your lap.

"You can bring her back," you pleaded with Rhys, meeting his gaze. "Please, you can bring her back."

"I can't," he whispered, shaking his head. "I wish I could, but I can't."

And you broke. Broke down in violent sobs, cradling your mate in your arms.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Kink/Fluff/Angstober Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @danikamariemain @book-obsessed124 @winchesterbbygrl @kissesfrommads @binnieonabike @fourthwing4ever @ghostslittlegf @mollygetssherlockcoffee @hawke1917 @nesta-houseofwindfantasy @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @honk4emoboys @rogerbarnesxx @a-courtof-azriel @kodokunarisu-blog @dxjaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @littlepippilongstocking

Morrigan Taglist:

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @anneas11 @andreperez11 @isnotwhatyourethinking @effervescentbutterfly

comment to be added to any of the taglists!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

[fieldofdaisiies]

elain x lucien | warnings: explicit content | masterlist | ao3

The morning comes earlier than expected, its light, soft and silvery, slipping through the window and casting a delicate glow upon Elain’s skin as Lucien lets his fingers dance over her arms. The air wafting in through the half open window still carries the scent and chill of winter with a fresh note of the soon arriving spring. But beneath the blanket they share it is soothingly warm, a little toasty even, but Lucien couldn’t care less.

At some point throughout the night, his hand found hers under the cover, fingers carefully and tentatively brushing as if they were still getting used to being so intimate with one another, before he entangled his fingers with hers.

“Good morning, my lady,“ Lucien says in a voice barely above a whisper, his tone still raspy from sleeping. Elain turns in his arms, a lazy smile on her lips as her eyes linger on his face, tracing all the lines and edges of his features with quiet admiration as if he is the most beautiful male she has ever seen in her entire life. It almost draws tears to the Vanserra’s eyes and his throat bobs with a rough swallow.

“Good morning, Lucien Vanserra,“ she hums in a singy voice, the smile not fading from her lips. “It’s quite toasty in here.“ But she doesn’t remove the blanket and she also doesn’t move away. Elain only sticks one foot out of the covers, wiggling her toes when they are exposed to the cool air of the room.

“Did you sleep well?“

“Like a babe.“ Her smile turns into a grin and Lucien is taken right back to the moment in the kitchen. The moment in the kitchen after they—

“I could feel you. That night…after you warmed my bath water. I could feel you. Everything you did. It was like you were in the room with me. Was this the bond’s doing? Was this possible through the bond?“ Elain’s cheeks turn from rosy to a deep red and now a grin appears on Lucien’s lips as well, at her straightforward question. 

continue on ao3

general Elucien tag list  @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop @aayo-whatt @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone @berryzxx @jules-writes-stories @bookishbroadwaybish @the-darkestminds @goldenmagnolias @isnotwhatyourethinking

[velarisnightsky444]

Sugar

Flufftober Day 5: Baking with Elain

CW: Just pure fluff. A bit suggestive.

AN: Guys, I'm finally catching up. I promise.

Word Count: 348

October Masterlist

⳾⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅*⳾

Days like this were your favorite.

Those sunny days when you came home from a long day at work to find your mate baking in the kitchen, an expression of content on her beautiful features. She was perfect, in your eyes. Even if she didn't believe it herself, you would always think so.

Elain was kneading her dough, humming to herself as she did so. She wore a simple pink dress that brought out the blush in her cheeks. Her golden brown hair was pulled back lazily to keep it out of her face.

"What are you making, Lainey?" you asked as you breezed into the kitchen, placing your things down on the kitchen table.

Elain glanced up from the counter as if you had pulled her out of a trance. But her eyes lit up when she noticed it was you, a soft smile spreading across her features. She had the most beautiful smile. Nothing else could ever compare.

"Bread," she replied simply. "Would you like to help?"

"You know I'm a disaster in the kitchen," you snorted. "But I'll keep you company."

You came up behind her, wrapping your arms around her and resting your chin on her shoulder. She hummed, turning her head to kiss your cheek. You turned your head just slightly so her lips met yours. Her kisses were sweet as sugar.

"Switch with me," she said against your lips.

"What?"

"Switch," she repeated.

You stepped back just slightly, and Elain carefully nudged you towards the counter. Then, she settled behind you, her warm breath on your neck, her arms wrapping around your body. A shiver went down your spine, but you relaxed.

"Place your hands on the dough," she instructed.

You listened, hands on the dough that was warm from her soft hands. Elain placed her delicate hands on top of yours, and gently guided you, helping you knead the dough.

"Good," she uttered into your ear. "See? It's not so difficult."

"Only with your help," you replied, rolling your eyes.

"You just need someone to teach you."

"Lucky for me, you're an excellent teacher."

⳾⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅*⳾

Kink/Fluff/Angstober Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @danikamariemain @book-obsessed124 @winchesterbbygrl @kissesfrommads @binnieonabike @fourthwing4ever @ghostslittlegf @mollygetssherlockcoffee @hawke1917 @nesta-houseofwindfantasy @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @honk4emoboys @rogerbarnesxx @a-courtof-azriel @kodokunarisu-blog @dxjaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @littlepippilongstocking

Elain Taglist:

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @anneas11 @andreperez11 @isnotwhatyourethinking @effervescentbutterfly

comment to be added to any of the taglists!

⳾⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅*⳾

[fieldofdaisiies]

elain x lucien | warnings: injuries, fear | masterlist | ao3

"Stop crying!" Elain commands herself over and over again after having allowed herself a moment of weakness, of vulnerability, her voice sharp as hot tears dwell in her eyes and roll down her cheeks. She clenches her fists, planting her knees firmly. Straightening her shoulders, she lifts her chin and inhales a steadying breath. "Stop crying and focus."

Maybe she's weak, maybe her weakness has made her pathetic. But not now. Not today. Today, she's going to save her mate’s life. Today, she will prove herself to everyone who ever doubted her. Most importantly, she will prove it to herself — to that cruel part of her mind that whispers all those awful things. This ends now. She is no longer weak and pitiful. She will save Lucien. She will save her mate, because he deserves nothing more than to survive. To live.

All the power needed was borne out of this sheer will and need to keep her mate safe and tend to his wounds. The entire journey back to the manor is a blur of effort, as she struggles to keep him close and upright — far from an easy task. Lucien is a tall male, so much taller than her, and he is heavy, nothing but muscles adorning his large frame. Every step is a challenge, and he does what he can to help, clinging to Elain as they make their way through the forest, through the thicket and the dewy grass. His full weight presses against her, and through the bond, she can sense his frustration. He despises the fact that she has to work so hard to support him. But along with that frustration, she can also feel his gratitude, his thankfulness. 

Never ever will he be alone. Not with her as his mate, Elain knows this. She won’t leave him alone again. They have each other now. 

And never in her wildest dreams would she leave him behind as Lucien had suggested during her first attempt to pull him up to his feet. She would sooner die than leave him alone in the forest, bleeding out, facing his final moments.

“Only a few more metres,” Elain expresses through clenched teeth, her breathing hard and ragged, her chest aching as cold air whooshes in and out of her lungs. Lucien’s low groans and noises of pain are the only sounds filling her ears. But she keeps pushing forward, further and further until they truly make it back to the manor. She is drenched in sweat by the time she reaches the door, out of breath, but a kernel of pride flickers to life within her – she made it. Lucien is safe!

Vassa and Jurian are immediately there to catch Lucien from her trembling arms, helping her get him inside and laying him down in his bed on the first floor. The pink sofa in the parlour wouldn’t be big enough and Lucien could fall off – a risk they won’t take.

continue on ao3

general Elucien tag list  @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop @aayo-whatt @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone @berryzxx @jules-writes-stories @bookishbroadwaybish @the-darkestminds @goldenmagnolias @isnotwhatyourethinking

[fieldofdaisiies]

elain x lucien | warnings: none really, except for a fight between siblings and sad thoughts | masterlist | ao3

She has to get out of the Night Court and go back to the Mortal Lands. She doesn’t want to leave her sisters, her family, but if she stays a moment longer in a court full of darkness and power, she will lose her will to live. Velaris is beautiful, Elain can see this, knows this, but she also knows this is not the place for her to be. She often feels invisible here. No one truly sees her here, she doesn’t fit in. She doesn’t belong here. 

Elain knows that she finally has to go her own way. She has always be dependent on her parents, on her father, on her sisters, on Feyre’s hunting skills, now on Rhys and the life he provides for her here. But it is time that this stops. It is time for her to find her own place in the fae world. It is finally time she does her own thing. To thrive and grow on her own and if she stays here, in the Night Court, this will never happen. She has to go back and start from the very beginning.

“It was his idea.” Not a question. A statement. And it makes Elain‘s chin quiver with anger. So does the look on Nesta’s face. Her chin is held high, her lips pressed in a thin line, eyes full of disbelief and worry. Elain can only glower at her sister, who seems unaffected by it. Nesta only points a finger at the door outside which Lucien is waiting to let the family talk alone. Nesta’s accusation is spoken both in reprimand and warning.

Elain’s fingers curl towards her palm. “It was my idea, Nesta. Only mine, Lord Lucien knew nothing about it,” she firmly says, her lips pressed in a thin line. “I don’t think I can be — I need time away from here. I want to leave the Night Court.”

“But you have never been—” Nesta starts, but Elain cuts her off.

“That is true. I have never been alone or on my own, and I won’t be alone this time. I have Lord Lucien Vanserra with me. And apart from that, I am old enough to do things on my own, I don’t constantly need you watching over me like a hawk.” Elain’s voice has risen so much that it catches the attention of everyone present in the dining room of the River House. Elain hates how everyone is ogling here, like she is a picture in Feyre’s art gallery. 

continue on ao3

general Elucien tag list @rippahwrites @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop @aayo-whatt @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone @berryzxx @jules-writes-stories @bookishbroadwaybish @the-darkestminds @goldenmagnolias @isnotwhatyourethinking

[fieldofdaisiies]

elain x lucien | warnings: violence, injuries | masterlist | ao3

Lucien’s senses are numb. He doesn’t know what to feel or think as he lies in bed, arms crossed beneath his head, the blanket only covering half of his body, the rest of it exposed to the chilly morning air slipping in through the partially open window. He is staring at the ceiling, the patterns of the wooden panels, his metal eye clicking with some of its movements. 

He replays the talk he had with Eris in his mind. Over and over again. How his brother looked at him, how he embraced him, almost as if welcoming him back home. Welcoming him back in the Autumn Court. And despite the little flicker of hope and appreciation Lucien has felt in his chest, he knows that no matter how hard he tries, that court would never feel like home again.

It’s his mother’s home. Eris’s home. His brothers’ home. But the Autumn Court isn’t his place to live. It carries too many awful and painful memories. He will, of course visit frequently from now on. To speak to his mother, to make up for all the time missed with his brother, to discuss important court matters and things that concern all of Prythian. But he won’t return there to stay.

Lucien lets out a deep breath, closing his eyes as they begin to burn from his endless staring. 

Within his heart there is a deep ache, a longing, not only for a place to call home but for his mate. It was easier when he and Elain weren’t close, when she always sought distance rather than closeness. Now that he knows how sweet her laugh sounds, what interests and intrigues her, how genuine and kind her soul is and what her lips taste like, it feels like an almost impossible act to stay away from her.

Partly, Lucien hates himself for even suggesting to stay apart. He knows it was for the best, for her to figure out what she really wants and not act on her desire and regret it after some time. But for him? 

It almost tears the Vanserra male apart. He wants to be with her, hold her, kiss her, hear her beguiling voice in his ears, see her smile and have her scent always wrapped around him.

Slowly opening his eyelids, Lucien allows his eyes to adapt to the dim light inside his bedroom again. It is still early in the morning, the sun has only started to rise a short while ago. He slides his hand down to his leg and realises he is not wearing his breeches but his sleeping pants. Lucien exhales an annoyed groan and flops onto his side, letting his hand dangle out of bed in hopes of being able to reach for his breeches. And success! He pulls them to him, fishing into their right pocket and when he feels the cool metal against his palm his fingers close around the small item.

continue on ao3

general Elucien tag list  @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop @aayo-whatt @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone @berryzxx @jules-writes-stories @bookishbroadwaybish @the-darkestminds @goldenmagnolias @isnotwhatyourethinking

[fieldofdaisiies]

elain x lucien | warnings: none | masterlist | ao3

~ two weeks later ~

“I am Lucien Davian Vanserra, Emissary to the Night Court and I request an audience with your High Lord.” Lucien‘s posture is straight, devout, his hands folded behind his back, his demeanour polite. And even if he seems composed and confident on the outside, a whirlwind of emotions is raging within him. In all honesty, on the inside, he is shaking like a leaf in the wind; doubts and worries gnaw heavily at him.

Maybe it was wrong to come here now? Maybe he should have waited a little longer? Maybe Helion isn’t ready to meet him yet?

He shakes the thoughts away. Elain was right. This had to happen now. Not in months, or years. Now. Now is the perfect time.

He gives his mate a sidelong glance, realising that she is already looking at him, smiling encouragingly. She grounds him in the moment, becomes his anchor.

When someone clears their throat, Lucien‘s eyes snap back to the guards in front of them, or rather the male appearing behind them.

“Do you have an appointment, Lord Lucien Davian Vanserra?” the Lord, someone of a higher rank as Lucien can tell by the male’s attire, asks with the raise of his brow.

“We do not, we apologise.”

“Then you are dismissed.” The male presses his lips in a flat line, and waves his hand once.

“It‘s urgent.” Lucien takes a step forward and the guards tighten their hold on their swords. “We need to speak to your High Lord.” I need to speak to my father.

"I suspected as much, but the High Lord has no time right now."

"Then we will wait until he has time!"

"You still have no appointment!"

"Then I formally request to make an appointment when the High Lord has time."

The Lord lets out an audible huff, almost like the noise of a long-suffering male, turning sharply on his heel. As he strides away, the heels of his boots click against the marble floor, a sound that echoes through the entire hall. With one hand raised, he orders, "Guards, step aside." He glances back over his shoulder, adding, "Follow me, Lord Lucien Davian Vanserra... and your companion."

continue on ao3

general Elucien tag list  @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop @aayo-whatt @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone @berryzxx @jules-writes-stories @bookishbroadwaybish @the-darkestminds @goldenmagnolias @isnotwhatyourethinking