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jsmelodies · 2 months ago

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I'd Go Back to the Winter

Five years ago, Elain Archeron loved Lucien Vanserra. Supposedly. She can’t remember a single second of it. And the only way to bring it back is to relive it all.

@laxibbeb It's me, your Secret Santa for the @acotargiftexchange!

It has been so, so lovely getting to know you over the past couple of months. I'll admit that I was nervous about trying my hand at Elucien, but I've enjoyed our talks so much and getting to be creative with this!

I really stepped out of my comfort zone with this one. I do usually stay in canon verse, but not typically in this way. I played around with it a lot here - and I had so much fun doing it!

You said you liked fanfics that were a little Out There, so I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it💕

Read here on ao3

Chapter 1

The figure slid into Lucien’s booth just as he finished the last dregs of ale. The long, dark cloak billowed with the movement of footsteps across the creaking floorboards.

The tavern air was humid and sticky, and the fabric of his jacket clung to his chest with sweat. But it was better than the air outside, with a wind so cold it might freeze off the extremities on his face.

And although Lucien had never had a problem staying warm, this was no night for anyone to be outside.

The tavern was one of Velaris’ worst. Perhaps one that his mate’s sister might have frequented, back when she did such things. Maybe that was why she picked it, taking the first seedy tavern that popped into her head.

It didn’t matter to him.

Truth be told, this was one of the last places he wanted to be. Being in this damned city was bad enough, without the invitation that he couldn’t refuse.

Meet me. Written in that perfect, delicate handwriting that was the result of years of forced practice, of tutoring until she looped her letters and dotted her i’s just so. A trained courtier she could certainly be, if she ever wished it. With her pleasant smiles that could bring a man to his knees, she was suited for it.

She lit up a room, bringing it to life. In all ways that mattered.

Her bedroom in the human lands had been anything but dull. Much to her sister’s dismay, she had ivy growing on the walls, even in the wintertime, filling the room with a lush green that drew his eyes from the drab landscape of the human realm. There were potted plants, flowers that reached for the scarce sunlight that set way too quickly. Never enough time, never enough light.

But under her thumb, they thrived. They were vibrant, an explosion of color as they sat on her windowsill.

Persevering. Enduring. Making the most out of what was sparsely given.

Elain Archeron was meant to be in the sunlight. She was light. And even in the mortal lands, it had been clear as day.

The tavern surrounded her in shadow. The cloak she wore covered everything, concealing her identity from all who would dare to look. So utterly dramatic, his mate.

“Elain. Lovely to see you.”

She forced a smile that had become common between them as of late. “Lucien.”

Her hands grabbed the sides of the hood to bring it down around her neck. The tips of her ears poked out from her hair, golden and set in near perfect curls on her back. When she was human, the pattern had been different—still beautiful, but in soft waves that he could run his fingers through.

Now, though, he was almost scared to touch, in fear of ruining their perfection. If she even let him get that far.

She’d been pretty before the war, devastatingly so. Even then, he’d known that he wasn’t enough for her. Elain Archeron was a woman that kings went to war over, and somehow, she’d fallen into his arms instead: a landless emissary with next to nothing to offer.

But her, as high fae? He had to admit that she’d always been meant to be this way. Even if she disagreed, and hated him for thinking so. He hated himself for thinking it, too.

Her eyes widened as she took in the scene around her. The drunk males leered at them from the bartop, and her nose scrunched at the scent that made its way into her nose. She was out of place here, with the pristine dress that he was sure she wore under her cloak, and the clink of gold that he could hear on her wrists.

“This seems like the last place a lady such as yourself would want to meet,” he said. “I do admit, I am quite surprised you suggested it.”

“No one will bother us here,” she explained.

When the barkeep looked their way, Lucien raised his hand in silent request for his glass to be refilled. Elain, however, shook her head when the male’s attention shifted to her, declining what he offered.

“Ah, yes. You wouldn’t want your family seeing us together, would you? It would send the wrong idea.”

She gave him a cruel smile. Well, as cruel as someone like Elain could manage. “Exactly.”

He leaned forward so his weight rested on his elbows, just as his next mug of ale arrived. He let it sit there, his attention focused entirely elsewhere.

The female across from him was much, much more important.

Some things never changed, he supposed. Her tells were the same as they always had been. Still not entirely used to her fae body, he assumed she didn’t know that he could hear it, the slight shake of her leg beneath the table.

Easy enough to hide, from wandering eyes. Indistinguishable enough that she wouldn’t have been chastised for it.

But he could hear it. Faintly. Steadily. The scratch of her heel along the wood of the bar seat, moving up and down as she stared.

Elain Archeron, for all intents and purposes, was nervous.

“I was wondering when you would eventually want to see me again,” he commented, at last picking up the ale that was waiting for him.

That little fire in her eyes sparked. The one that warmed the brown, full of indignation that had once been trained into submission. He’d brought it out of her, stoking it to life once. And he’d loved every second of it.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Because the mating bond pulls at you, doesn’t it? Just like it does for me?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

But she gave him that look she always did when she knew she was backed into a corner. So he said, “It pulls and pulls, and at some point, you wonder what you’re missing.”

She didn’t deny him. Call him an arrogant prick all she wanted, but he was right, wasn’t he?

“Well, what is it? You want to give it another go? You want to break the bond? What do you want?”

He didn’t see her next words coming. “I want to remember how it happened.”

The question blanketed over the air between them. It thickened the room like smoke, to the point that he could hardly think, or breathe.

She wanted to know. About them, and how he’d broken her heart. Which, given how they ended up in this predicament, he wasn’t overly convinced to do.

“No.”

“No?”

“Last I remembered, you were begging to forget me.” Lucien offered her a smile, but he knew without looking at it that it didn’t meet his eyes. “I’d be a terrible mate if I took that back, wouldn’t I?”

“But I’m asking you to.” She blinked in that way of hers that showed off her long eyelashes, slow and intentional. It was how she got what she wanted, he’d learned. “It would make a wonderful Solstice present.”

“I was thinking of a nice necklace instead. Perhaps to match the earrings you never wear.”

“Charming.” She leaned back in the seat, crossing her arms across her chest. “I do think I would prefer this, though.”

Delightful. This was exactly how he wanted to spend the holidays: dragging a female that hated him across Prythian.

It was what that damned witch had told him to do if he ever wanted to reverse it. He’d tracked her all the way to the edges of Oorid, to the place right before the wetland consumed the ground entirely. The small cottage had been built upon the squishy mud, stabilized by some ancient magic that he felt twisting around his bones.

It went quickly. They had struck a bargain.

There was no other payment he could offer to a witch that fed on memories, so he’d offered one of his most precious ones, in exchange for the piece of her magic he desired.

The magic that Elain had pleaded for.

And with that magic, came very clear instructions. For Elain to remember any of it, she had to experience it all again: every twist and turn, every moment of joy and heartbreak.

It was painful for him to think about, even five years later. What would it be like for it all to be fresh in her mind again?

��You want to know the story, then?” he asked. “You want to relive it? You want to hate me even more than you already do?” He couldn’t stop his lip from raising in a slight sneer. “Tell me this, Elain. What will you do when you learn? Because I could handle it once, your hatred. But I don’t think I’m inclined to be on the receiving end of that anger again.”

She held his stare for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine. I promise I will have a reaction that is perfectly acceptable.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t trust your promises.” The words came out more harshly than he intended.

She let the words linger.

Her eyes blazed through the space, perfect and defiant and everything he was supposed to love. “I don’t think I hate you anymore.”

The words cut through him, unrelenting as they tore through his heart. Five years ago, he craved to hear those words.

He knew the truth of it—that there was a fine line between love and hate. And that Elain Archeron loved him such that she’d lost herself in it, that with that final blow, it was so easy for it to switch. To cross that line into loathing, until she couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as him.

“I loved you. Didn’t I?” she asked.

He took a sip, and set his glass down on the table. “You did.”

Her lips set into a line, and she straightened in her seat. “I want to know why.” When he didn’t respond, she said a touch softer, “I’m ready to know why.”

Maybe five years was enough to lessen the hurt of it. It was that thought that sparked hope in his chest, that this might be enough to get them talking again. He wouldn’t go quite so far as to hope for her forgiveness. No, that wouldn’t come for a long while.

Maybe, though, they could take that first step.

He looked over her, his decision made. “Pack a bag, Elain. This is going to take a while.”

***

She met him in the morning. She slipped out of the river house before anyone was awake to notice her leave, placing a single note on the main table excusing her absence for the next week.

A garden on the other side of Velaris, was what she said. With enough detail to bore Feyre and Nesta to death, so that they would leave it alone.

No one would investigate. She’d never given them a reason to.

She’d never been to his apartment, yet she knew where it was. That golden thread in her chest knew where to find him, leading her through the labyrinth of Velaris’ streets until she arrived at a building in the heart of the business district, tall and made from red bricks from the mountain range that surrounded the city.

She didn’t understand it. She didn’t think she ever would. How sometimes it felt like he was wrapped around her heart, coiled around it tightly in a tapestry of golden light.

How she could feel his essence through it—something she felt like she was supposed to miss, without knowing why.

How was she supposed to miss someone she didn’t remember?

She missed the laugh that she couldn’t place. The steady breathing that she was sure appeared when he was in a deep sleep, passed out beside her, even if it never formed fully in her mind’s depth.

Sometimes when she saw the glint in his hair, or when the sun hit the russet brown of his eye, she felt a pang in her chest. There was the urge to take those long strands through her fingers, and cup his face with her palm.

Sometimes, she swore she felt the faintest of touches. His lips against her own, the ghost of his hand along her waist. Her hip.

She could hear the soft rasp of his whisper, air pressing against the shell of her ear. Could see the slightest dimple from his smile.

Like she had known once what it had meant to be loved; cherished.

It always slipped from her mind like smoke. And, quite honestly, she didn’t know how she was able to miss it. But she knew that she did, even though she couldn’t name any of it.

Just as dawn broke, she knocked firmly on his apartment door. It was towards the back of the hallway on the second floor, and he answered within mere seconds.

The two of them exchanged brief greetings, awkward and strained as she avoided his eyes. He took her bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder with a graceful movement. She fought to keep her jaw shut, watching the firm lines of muscle flex under his pressed jacket. She’d always found him handsome, even in those early days after the Cauldron, when she hated him and didn’t know why. All she knew then was that she’d begged him to take it away—and he had.

Elain took his hand, and then he brought them through that void in between space. They landed in the middle of the woods, the mortal woods, and the nearly rotted leaves poked out through the snow.

Before them stood a cottage, one that was all too familiar.

For years, she’d lived here. Suffered through harsh winters. Prayed that a single vegetable would grow in that garden, in the hopes that they might be fed.

She hated this cottage.

Memories slammed through her, of trying to stop Feyre and Nesta from ripping each other’s throats out. She’d played mediator for far too long in that house, taking the middle of the bed when her sisters could barely stand to look at each other, even in the height of summer when all she could feel was her sisters’ body heat melting onto her.

The cottage hadn’t fared well, it seemed. The roof had finally caved in, and vines covered the chipped wooden walls.

No one could possibly live here now. She didn’t even know how they lived here all those years ago. Looking at it now, it was pathetic. Certainly not fit for a family of four. If anything, it was fit for a family of squirrels.

“What are we doing here?” she asked.

Sympathy filled his expression, as if he knew the toll that all those years in poverty had taken. Maybe they’d talked about it at great length, before it happened.

Did she share everything with him? All her insecurities, all her doubts? Her dreams of leaving this place behind, and exploring what the world had to offer?

She didn’t know. But Lucien looked at her like he knew her, like his soul was familiar with hers. And she hated it, hated how some part of her reached out and grabbed some invisible hand. How he seemed to reach back, sliding a comforting thumb over the center of her palm.

Even as her hands laid limply at her sides. That phantom touch terrified her, and she knew it was the bond. Knew it was her trying to find comfort, and him trying to provide it.

It was part of why she stayed away from him for so long. The mating bond was a sixth sense, one that she had gone nearly a quarter of a century without. Using it felt unnatural; different from anything she had ever known.

His eyes dropped to her hands for just a moment, before he cleared his throat. “We will not stay here incredibly long, I assure you. As I recall, you were not fond of this place.” He offered her a hesitant smile, and said, “All stories have a beginning, though, and ours starts here.”

***

A snowflake fell to the ground as Lucien approached the cottage in the woods.

He adjusted his sleeves, shivering in the wind that seeped in through his jacket and chilled his Autumn blood. He’d forgotten how cold the mortal lands could be this time of year. With Spring always remaining a constant, lovely temperature, he supposed he’d become a bit spoiled. And he hadn’t done a route through here in ages.

Had Andras been cold when he died?

He imagined the blood of his friend staining the snow a bright red. He imagined a mortal huntress bringing him down with a single ash arrow, and skinning the pelt right off of him. He shuddered at the thought, and forced it from his mind.

He’d never met these humans, but he hated them already. No matter that they hadn’t been the ones to fire the arrow. It was irrational, he knew. For they were the reason his friend had died. His death had been toasted at their dinner table, while they ate and clinked their glasses.

Andras had to die. He knew that. But Andras had been his friend, and they spent most of their evenings playing cards by the crackling fire.

The human had killed his friend, and Tamlin was already acting like a lovesick fool. Offering a damned estate to mortals who he didn’t owe a single copper to. A house that wasn’t about to collapse in on itself would have worked just fine, if you asked him.

Looking at the cabin in front of him, he noted that it was rather pathetic. A thin stream of smoke escaped from a hole in the roof, and he knew just from looking at it that the fire below couldn’t possibly be warming the entire cabin.

Tamlin had done a number on this place. The door was barely on its hinges, as if somebody had made a poor attempt of putting it back into place.

There was a garden in the front, barren from the winter, with only a few lifeless shrubs to indicate that anything had ever grown here in the first place. And the rest of it was drab, more so than he expected, and he had to force his sympathy deep down in his chest where it belonged.

He’d do his job, play his part, and then he could get damn well out of here.

He raised his hands to the door, making sure to knock lightly enough so the door wouldn’t fall right off.

At first, he thought no one would answer. Perhaps without Feyre here, the family had frozen in the cold. He hoped that wasn’t the case, for the sole reason that it might complicate matters. Feyre would be far less cooperative if she learned that her human family no longer breathed, and…

As the thought formed in his mind, he realized how terrible it sounded.

To his relief, though, Then there was a shuffling across the floor, starting from the other side of the cabin, it sounded like, and the door was pulled back just a hair.

Even though Tamlin glamoured him before he left, this woman seemed to stare at where his mask should be, at where his now round ears would normally point into tips.

So, this was the family that the human girl had talked about. He tried to keep his unimpressed look contained as the woman opened the door wider, a sneer already forming on her face.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Miss Archeron?” he asked.

She was silent for a moment. “What is it to you?”

“Your father’s ships. They’ve landed at the docks.”

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. It would have been entirely so, if he had been untrained to pick up on such things.

But despite how well-constructed this woman’s mask was, he could pick apart the apprehension, and the disbelief.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“You can call me Lucien,” he said, giving a polite dip of his head. “As I said, the ships arrived just this morning. We couldn’t quite believe it, after all these years.”

She blinked, long and slow. “I won’t fall for your tricks.” She stepped back from the doorway just enough so she could bring the door forward. She said with a snarl, “I would advise you to leave.”

He shoved his foot into the space between the door and the wall, holding back his wince when the woman didn’t hesitate in her movement. It dug into his foot with a searing pain, and the force that this mortal woman put into her blow almost made him wince.

Still, though, he forced his face to be pleasant. “And what makes you think it is a lie?” It rolled smoothly off of his tongue, meant to put the woman at ease.

It didn’t work. Instead, her gaze narrowed on him, ladled with suspicion.

“Nesta, let the man inside,” came a soft lilt from behind her.

Nesta, he assumed, held the door in a death grip, not budging even after the other woman had told her otherwise. Until that woman came to the doorway herself, to see the commotion with her own eyes.

Her own beautiful, deep brown eyes.

Poverty could only hide so much. Even in her simple dress, and the meals she clearly lacked, she was ethereal anyways—a goddess that had somehow taken a human form, who deigned to look at the stranger upon her doorstep with warmth.

He sketched a bow, and murmured, “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure, lady…?”

The corners of her lips lifted as she blushed. “Elain.”

#elucien #acotar gift exchange #elucien fanfiction #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

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acotargiftexchange · 1 month ago

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AO3 Collection ・Fanfiction ・ Fanart ・Moodboards

Treacherous Waters by @crazy-ache for @jsmelodies

The Great Blobbish Bakeoff by @bonecarversbestie for @separatist-apologist

Shakled by @zenkindoflove for @aldbooks

Elucien fanart, Northern Attitude, and Northern Attitude Fanart by @jadedbugart for @climbthemountain2020

THE PERFECT ROMANTIC GETAWAY: ONE WEEK FOR TWO AT SCENIC, LAKESIDE MOUNTAIN LODGE by @itsybitsybluesy for @huntquinlan

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? by @climbthemountain2020 for @itsybitsybluesy

Elucien bookmarks by @octobers-veryown for @littlefireling

Elain taking care of Lucien fanart and My Poor, Sick Mate by @olenvasynyt for @stickyelectrons

Elucien fanart by @stickyelectrons for @myromanempiree

Guilty as sin by @myromanempiree for @shadowsingers-mate

Elucien fanart by @works-of-heart for @lady-of-tearshed

The Prophecy by @separatist-apologist for @olenvasynyt

Shake the Frost by @clockwork-ashes for @zenkindoflove

Love in the Time of Triple Axels by @missfckingfortune for @clockwork-ashes

Moodboard by @itsaperiwinkleworldv2 for @booklover721

En Scene by @lady-of-tearshed for @thelovelymadone

Hospital AU Art by @laxibbeb for @missfckingfortune

The Flame of Night by @aldbooks for @octobers-veryown

Elucien Moodboard by @littlefireling for @shadowqueenjude

I'd Go Back to the Winter by @jsmelodies for @laxibbeb

A Court of Sight and Tulips by @shadowqueenjude for @crazy-ache

Mine by @allwaswellllll for @works-of-heart

Grays Anatomy AU by @laxibbeb for @missfckingfortune

A Court of Change and Blossom Playlist by @itsaperiwinkleworldv2 for @booklover721

Mastermind by @booklover721 for @allwaswellllll

somebody else by @duskandcobalt for @whysterian

Survival Instincts by @thelovelymadone for @itsaperiwinkleworldv2

To A Buried and A Burning Flame by @cauldronblssd for @bonecarversbestie

Fires of Fate by @shadowsingers-mate for @cauldronblssd

Thank you so much for all your hard work! If we missed anything, kindly reach out to your moderator!

#Elucien #acotargiftexchange #Elain Archeron #Lucien Vanserra #Elain x Lucien #Lucien x Elain #Elucien Fanfiction #Elucien Fanart #Elucien Playlist #Elucien Moodboard #Masterlist

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crazy-ache · 2 months ago

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Elain & Lucien from ACOWAR (Elucien's Version)

Thank you @jadedbugart for bringing this scene from my fic to life.

“This is hardly fair, Lucien,” she glanced over the side of the hull. “What’s not fair?” He asked as they passed under the walking bridge from earlier. “That you’re doing all the work and I’m just sitting here doing nothing!” Lucien laughed, rotating his arms in circular strokes. “You are most definitely not sitting there doing nothing. You are holding the lantern and providing the most beautiful view while I labor away for your enjoyment.” That’s when she could practically hear it—the hum of their bond. Perhaps it had been there the entire time, falling into the background of the coursing river and the oar’s cadence of splashing, weaved into the buzz of the city’s life all around them. But as Lucien’s gaze met hers, the flame she held in her lantern seemed to grow inflamed; the tether that connected them was pulled so tight in the close proximity, vibrating with amusement, curiosity, and something more dangerous. Something like the sticky honey of desire.

❀ Art by @jadedbugart | Artist Instagram ❀ Find my commission on Instagram. My fanfic, the completed ACOWAR (Elucien's Version), is a Canon AU where Elain gets brought back to the Spring Court by Lucien after the events of the Cauldron—and all the events of fate that unfold afterward.

#elucien #elucien art #elucien fanart #elucien fanfic #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro elain archeron #pro lucien vanserra #elucien supremacy #elucien regency vibes #elain x lucien #elucien fanfiction #acowar (elucien's version)#pro elucien

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lady-of-tearshed · 3 months ago

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Family trip

Pairing : Elucien

Lucien Vanserra Week 2024

Day five : Home

@lucienweekofficial

Summary: In Lucien's mind, taking a family vacation with a toddler, an energetic daughter, an adolescent that reminded him too much of his brother, and a pregnant wife sounded easy. Relaxing, even. That was, unfortunately, far from reality.

Word count: 871 words

Warnings: None.

A/N: Okay- so this is basically more of a "Family" prompt than a "Home" prompt, but... yeah. Anywayn, enjoy!

Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears 🧡

“Da, it's itchy!”

Lucien breathed out through his nose, trying to exhale the accumulation of stress and fatigue the trip of their family vacation had put him in.

Traveling from Summer to the Autumn Court without winnowing took a grand total of three days. Three days is nothing to an immortal lifespan. But three days of traveling with a twelve year old adolescent, an eight year old ball of energy, a whiny three year old that still struggles to express his big feelings and an overstimulated pregnant wife… that felt like an eternity.

“Look at my scarf Dad!”

Lucien's head whipped to his one and only baby girl, giving her a thumbs up as she twirled, and twirled, and twirled in her new velvet coat, her scarf dancing in the air, following her movement and accidently hitting Lucien's eldest.

“Hey!” He protested, already set to start a fight with his sister.

“No fighting! Cauldron, Aidan!” Lucien snapped, teeth bared, sounding harsher than he had intended to.

“Cauldron?”

Lucien groaned. “No, no Cole. We can't say Cauldron-” Lucien eyes widened at the pile of ashes and lack of clothes on his youngest body. “Cole! Cauld- Ugh!”

Lucien covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes. He knew damn well that when he'd open them again, the clothes would still be missing from his toddlers body, but…

“Can we go out now? Uncle Eris will be waiting for us,” Aidan complained behind Lucien, hanging himself loosely onto the doorknob. “Again.”

Lucien mentally cursed himself for that gods damned fiery blood genetics at Aiden's arrogant tone. He lifted Cole in his arms, going straight to his drawers to pick out an outfit, again.

“But Da… we don't wear that much clothes in Day…”

Lucien’s eyes softened at Cole's irresistible tiny pout, the same his mate did to trick him into any of her mischief and desires. Not that the pout was needed from Elain to make Lucien fold into her every whims and desires. He'd offer her the moon on a string if she'd ask for it.

“Because the weather is cooler in Autumn, that's why the leaves are different colors here.”

Lucien heard bickering from the other side of the door, but paid no mind. They never fought it out too hard anyway, and preventing them from doing so would cause even more chaos, and he wanted to leave this cabin as soon as possible to let his pregnant mate get some rest.

He saw the frown on his toddler's face as soon as he felt the texture of the wine red wool sweater on his skin. “Come on bud… just for a few days. Plus, grandma might give you an extra muffin if she sees you in the sweater she knitted specifically for you.”

At the mention of his grandma, Cole's eyes sparkled, his smile shining as bright as a mid-day sun. “Grandma made this one?”

“Yes, so don't burn it. ‘Kay bud?”

Lucien's ear twitched when he heard footsteps outside, then the front door opened. Quickly, he picked up Cole and rushed out of the bedroom, only to notice there wasn't a real threat.

“UNCLE ERIS!”

And damned was Elain's peaceful nap. Lucien groaned, and widened himself to the ground to free his wiggling toddler.

Eris assessed his nephews, an unnatural grin plastered on his face as he attempted to look pleasant.

Aidan beamed at his uncle when he squeezed his shoulder. “You've grown,” Eris stated, his eyes gleaming with an emotion Lucien couldn't quite tell.

“Yeah! Baba Helion says I'll probably be taller than my father someday!”

Eris hummed, then his gaze finally met Lucien's. His amber eyes scanned him from head to toe, then he grimaced when his eyes met back with his. “You've looked better,”

“You always look great,” Lucien mumbled, crossing his arms on his chest and running his hands through his hair in an attempt to look somewhat presentable.

“You're going to worry mother if she sees you in this state.”

Lucien wanted to argue back at Eris' bluntness, but before he could keep up with him, Eris added. “You rest with Elain, I'll bring them back by the end of the day,” Eris picked up Cole from the ground before he could climb all the way up into his arms. “And please, next time, at least remember to put on some pants.”

Lucien looked down in horror to confirm that he was indeed not wearing any pants, only his brief.

“Come on, rascals. We're going on an adventure,” Eris calls from over his shoulder, Aidan and Bridget following suit.

“Bye Da!” Cole waved from Eris' shoulder, his siblings already off and running ahead of Eris.

Lucien waved back, and closed the door behind them.

“Alone time?”

Lucien spun around and gasped at the sight of Elain, her skin glowing, her womb full and round with his child, Day Court’s traditional white silk robe hanging loosely onto her body. A low growl escaped his chest, and he scooped her up off the floor effortlessly, climbing the stairs as if she weighed nothing more than a feather.

“Alone time…” He kissed her forehead, heading back to their chamber. “Let's go back to bed.”

And they did.

Acotar general taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @paige0103

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itsybitsybluesy · 2 months ago

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THE PERFECT ROMANTIC GETAWAY: ONE WEEK FOR TWO AT SCENIC, LAKESIDE MOUNTAIN LODGE

CHAPTER 1 / ELUCIEN / EXPLICIT / 1 OF 3

There was simply so much they’d had to extricate themselves from in the middle of Solstice season, Elain thought several times that they should really just call the whole thing off. “It’s never a good time for a vacation,” Lucien told her. “Which is why you have to take them.”

🎁 🎁 🎁

LMAO HAPPY ACOTAR GIFT EXCHANGE @huntquinlan!!! surprise surprise, i accidentally revealed myself as your secret santa AND THEN TURNED AROUND AND DOUBLE-CROSSED YA BY PRETENDING I WAS YOUR NEW, DIFFERENT SECRET SANTA... did you guess? i am selfishly super happy i didn't have to switch, because i loved writing this and i also loved getting to discover your wonderful art! my only regret is that i couldn't write you asks in gossip girl speak the entire time.

thank you @temperedink for the generous beta read and thank you @acotargiftexchange for dealing with my mistake... i'm told at least once a year someone spoils the surprise and i am not that shocked that i did it my first time. just too excitable i guess!

have a wonderful holiday season, and i really hope you like this! i tried to take your Outlander hot springs suggestion and go somewhere new on the Continent (that is, ahem, quite obviously a lakeside town in japan i once visited in my early 20s). there will be three chapters total, sprinkled somewhat evenly over the next few days of the event!

LOVE U BESTIE!

xoxo,

itsy <3

(read it on AO3!)

preview under the cut:

ELAIN

She was slightly anxious the whole carriage ride as town streets turned to farms and fields and then to hills and valleys. There was simply so much they’d had to extricate themselves from in the middle of Solstice season, Elain had thought several times that they should really call the whole thing off. Nesta was just a few months pregnant and horribly sick in the mornings, sometimes only able to keep down the soothing bone broths Elain made her from scratch; Nyx was going through his first few challenges with his schooling and consequently driving court tutors to madness; Feyre and Rhys had their hands full and heads spinning with a squabbling pack of High Lords and uneasy, bickering detente with the human queens.

Elain had been soothing and tending and chipping in and charming her ass off anyone that needed it. “I just don’t know if it’s such a good idea for us to leave now ,” she’d said to her mate, though it pained her to rain on his parade.

Lucien was still splitting his time between Day and the apartment they were renting in Velaris, though Elain knew the constant winnowing didn’t always help with the question of what, exactly, to do about his inheritance: the title of Day Court Prince, Helion’s pride and joy, the golden boy he would have been, had he been allowed to grow up by his father’s side. The High Lord of Day seemed to have an endless fount of ideas on what Lucien should learn about in Day’s libraries, or why it was very important for him to accompany Helion to a trade meeting, or any number of other reasons to invite the current emissary of Night to stay another day, week, month.

Elain knew there was no reason Lucien needed to keep going on Rhys’s nosy little reconnaissance missions or put up with the polite friendlessness that faced him in Velaris - just as she knew her mate still could not take the final step into the place Helion offered to him, the path that seemed to be open after so many decades thinking he deserved so little. It was Lucien who perhaps needed to spend more time communicating with his relatives and trusted friends this Solstice, and of course it was Lucien most convinced they should leave, Cauldron boil them all, because they wanted to and because they could.

“It’s never a good time for a vacation,” Lucien told her before they left. “Which is why you have to take them.”

“That’s not an answer,” Elain said loftily. “I think it’s you trying to avoid a Solstice visit with Helion.”

“Forget Helion,” her mate said. “It’s me trying to whisk my gorgeous mate away for some actual peace and quiet.”

And in the end, she’d agreed with him, in her heart of hearts so craving a day or two to just themselves. Lucien spared no expense or comfort, ever gallant and also very dramatic about his holiday plans; he worked with court engineers to spell their carriage against the winter cold so that he and Elain could enjoy a cozy, comfortable ride to their destination, laden with trunks of likely unnecessary furs and blankets and books and tea. He knew Elain still preferred real-time travel to winnowing, and he also knew it was a simple pleasure for her to not have to pack light. Across from her in the carriage, he sat with one hand stroking her own, eyes bright as he peered out the window.

“Tell me again,” Elain said softly, “what this place is like.”

“I don’t want to build your hopes too high,” Lucien said gaily, clearly proud of what he’d planned anyway. “After all, it was a suggestion from Eris, of all people.” It was his brooding, severe half-brother who’d told Lucien about the town and the inn, the mountain and the springs before it, about a day’s ride Northeast into the Continent. Only the Mother knew how, exactly, Eris had acquired this information, but Eris had heard about Elain’s dreamy musings on travel, exploring beautiful places and getting to know new people. Lucien expected it was ultimately fondness for Elain and not himself that had so inspired this exclusive recommendation.

“That’s why I know it’ll be just perfect,” Elain countered. “Any place on the Continent notable enough for Eris Vanserra must be pretty breathtaking.”

“It’s only a town,” Lucien said, grinning. “A town he happened to know, by a mountain, populated by quiet mountain people he probably terrified.”

Elain curled closer to him and sighed. “Quiet people, how lovely,” she said. “What if I never want to return?”

Lucien dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sure I could handle your correspondence, be your emissary.”

“No, I’ll make sure you’re enchanted into following my every step,” his mate replied. “So you can never leave my side.”

He turned and let himself take a deep whiff of her hair and pearled, soft skin. “No enchantment needed, mate.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #elain x lucien #elucien #elucien fanfiction #acotargiftexchange

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fuckyeselucien · 3 months ago

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Creator Highlight #17 - @cauldronblssd

Today we’d like to highlight @cauldronblssd! CB is one of the most welcoming and generous creators in the Elucien community who has given so much to others. She is a talented writer with a wide variety of stories and has also commissioned some of the most gorgeous pieces for Elain and Lucien.

If you check out CB's work, you can find just about any flavor you crave! Whether that is an AU in space, canon divergence, or modern-day spice, she's got both the angst and spice you seek. Not only is she an amazing storyteller, she is also known for leaving some of the most thoughtful comments on AO3 to other authors. She really embodies what the Elucien community is about!

Below are a few favorites, but you’ll want to read all the fics and check out her commissions on her masterlist HERE.

Found in the Sunlight

Elain and Lucien have spent the past several years politely avoiding each other. When Elain has a vision about Lucien becoming the High Lord of Autumn, she agrees to accept the mating bond to a male that she hardly knows. Bound by the bond and a couple unexpected bargains, the newly mated couple form an alliance.

Morning Edition

Elain listens to her local public radio station every morning as a way to support her sister, Feyre, a local arts and culture reporter. What starts as casual listening develops into something more when she finally meets the man behind the voice she listens to on the new every morning, Lucien Vanserra.

"Lucien was an NPR reporter, an enthusiast of local politics and an active participant in the fall and spring fund drives. Surely, he couldn’t be a party animal either, with a call time of five AM or something else equally absurd. Still, it had been him who suggested they meet at the last minute. Was this a booty call? Would he still buy her drinks, then?

It seemed a strange move to select your coworker’s sister for such an arrangement, but perhaps she was naive. She’d have to keep her head on her shoulders, even when he spoke to her with that low seductive voice or wore another well-fitted shirt that showed off his expansive chest. Elain squared her shoulders, resolving herself to be firm in her resolution not to go home with him that night."

We're Leaving the Planet, and You Can't Come

Elain Archeron lives a quiet life on the Sun Station as a follower of the Nolans’ New Ways. When she is sent on a mission to find wanted man, Vanserra, she crash lands in alien territory.

We’re going to space, babes!

Want to nominate someone? Fill out the form HERE.

#elucien #pro elucien #creator highlight #elucien fanfiction #elucien commission

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elucienweekofficial · 7 months ago

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Thank you so much to everyone who participated in Elucien Week 2024! We were blown away by the amount of people who showed up to pour their love, creativity, and support into this event! It was so beautiful to see the community come together, and we already can't wait to do it all again next year!

Before we leave to start planning for Elucienweek2025, we have one last surpise we wanted to share as a thank you to everyone who contributed to this fantastic week! We've taken a look through all 60 works in this year's AO3 collection and have sorted them into a quiz that will help you decide which one is perfect for you!

>>>Click here to take the quiz

And again, thank you to everyone for a fabulous week! We can’t wait to see you again next year!

#And special shoutout to our beta testers!#Elucien #Elucienweek2024 #Elucien fanfiction

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the-lonelybarricade · 1 year ago

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Breaking & Entering - (1/2)

Summary: Before the room was swallowed into darkness, she found her eyes drifting towards the entryway, listening to the heartbeat that drifted to her through the wooden door. It followed her all the way to the House of Wind. And in her sleep that night, the beating stopped.

Or; A slightly angsty telling of how Elain discovered that Lucien sleeps naked

Read on AO3・ Part II

Being a seer was not without its complications.

In fact, Elain would argue that being a seer consisted only of complications. Of muddled thoughts, and twisted, tangled truths that she could spend a lifetime unweaving and still not fully comprehend.

But worst of all was the blurry line she walked between reality and prophecy. One moment, she was sipping her tea at the breakfast table, and the next she was standing in a busy marketplace, uncertain which was the illusion until she was vaulted back into her physical body, blinking as her heart settled and her vision returned.

“Elain?”

Feyre leaned over the table, palms pressed into the dark wood, hovering as close to Elain as the barrier would allow. From the thin line forming between Feyre’s brows, Elain had the impression this was not the first time Feyre had called for her.

“Yes?” Elain said, straightening her back and lifting her teacup as if nothing had happened.

Feyre’s shoulders slackened, and she drew back into her seat with a small sigh of relief. But Elain knew that after the concerned sister, came the curious High Lady. She watched, face still ducked into her teacup, as Feyre pressed her lips together, thinking so loudly she might as well have used her magic to project her thoughts. Not that it mattered, not when her questions were obvious, and already evident in the way those blue-grey eyes searched her face.

Tea sloshed against Elain’s lips, uncontrolled, inelegant. Her hand was shaking. Though the vision had been mild, even pleasant, compared to others, that flash of red hair had unnerved her. The way it always did.

She set the teacup down, ignoring how it rattled against the saucer. How Feyre flinched.

“Lucien’s on his way,” Elain said, fighting to keep her voice neutral.

A knock sounded at the door, cutting off Feyre’s response. Elain patted her lip with the napkin, skin tingling from the too-hot liquid, and stood up from her chair. “Before you answer, would you mind taking me to the House of Wind?”

“You’re not even going to say hi?”

There was an accusation in that question. Subtle, even a little gentle, but an accusation nonetheless. Elain crossed her arms, as if doing so could deflect from her sister’s judgment. She knew what Feyre wanted—for Elain to stay, to make nice with Lucien and ask him about his latest trip to the mortal lands. She wanted Elain to get to know the male she was eternally bonded to so that they might one day find the happiness that Feyre and Rhysand found in each other. Even Nesta seemed to be encouraging it these days.

“He doesn’t need to know I was here,” Elain said. “Besides, he’s come to see you.”

Feyre raised a brow. If there was sharpness in those words, Elain hadn’t meant them. Or maybe she had. She was frustrated that her sisters had already made up their minds about what was best for her, and that despite the agency she craved, she couldn’t even flee to the House of Wind without Feyre’s help.

They stared at each other for a long moment, a clash of stubbornness that was sometimes the only thing that connected them.

“Fine,” Feyre said, coming around the table and reaching out her hand. “But you should try talking to him one of these days, Elain. He’s a good male.”

He was a good male. Elain knew that perfectly well. And before the room was swallowed into darkness, she found her eyes drifting towards the entryway, listening to the heartbeat that drifted to her through the wooden door.

It followed her all the way to the House of Wind.

And in her sleep that night, the beating stopped.

Elain sat up in bed, clutching her chest. Beneath her clammy skin, she could feel her own heart thundering beneath her fingers. But its golden echo, the one she felt like a string around her rib, plucked day and night by a tireless musician… It had fallen silent.

A dream, she thought. A vision. Any moment now, she’d blink and find herself sitting in the library, wondering at the Cauldron’s strange meaning. But as she laid on her back and watched a dark cloud slowly creep across the starry sky, she felt the seconds prying for her attention with growing urgency. And suddenly she couldn’t breath as a terrible, gnawing panic seized her throat. The next thing she knew, she was rushing through the corridors of the House of Wind, hair and nightgown flowing behind her.

He answered the door on the first knock. She knew he wouldn’t be sleeping, even at this hour.

“Elain?” Azriel asked, hazel eyes sweeping over her, assessing if her panic was the result of any injury on her person. “What’s wrong?”

Ordinarily, she might have taken the time to be embarrassed by her state of undress. But all she could hear was the silence in her mind. The vast, roaring emptiness that was usually occupied by life and light.

Elain took a moment to compose herself, trying to swallow past the sickening feeling in her gut, but the words all escaped in a rush regardless of her efforts. “Can you take me down?”

“What?”

“Downstairs,” she clarified. “To the Rainbow.”

His gaze darted to the ground. To her bare feet. “Dressed like that?”

“Please,” was all she said.

Azriel didn’t press any further. He simply led her to the nearest balcony and did precisely as she asked, hesitating only once they landed in the empty marketplace, and she shivered when he set her down on the cobblestone. He removed his jacket, and the evening was cold enough that Elain didn’t object when he placed it over her shoulders.

But she did shake her head as he said, “Whatever you’re doing, let me come with you. To make sure you’re safe.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, pulling the jacket closer when she noticed the way his eyes wandered to her neckline. Maybe he was concerned by the attention her attire would attract, a fear she might have shared if Lucien’s apartment wasn’t just across the street. And she had a feeling that regardless of what she said to Azriel, he’d be lingering to ensure nothing happened to her.

“I’ll stay here, then” Azriel said. “So that I can bring you back up when you’re ready.”

Sensing that was the most she could convince Azriel to stay out of it, and not wanting to waste any more time arguing, Elain nodded and dashed off toward Lucien’s apartment. A place she’d never visited before, though she’d seen it in enough visions to recognize the stepping stones of the front garden as if she’d been the one to arrange them.

Of all the times she’d thought about coming here, of bracing her hand around the iron knocker and letting fall to the front door, she’d never imagined it would be the middle of the night. And that the knocker would bounce once, twice, until it vibrated into stillness. No shuffle on the other side, no footsteps. No answer at all.

In all her imaginings, she’d certainly never thought that she would need to sneak into his back garden and mount the trellis to his balcony, battling against the climbing roses that snagged at her dressing gown. She hissed as more than a few scraped against her legs, as if the garden were fighting back against its intruder.

“Lucien?” She called as she came level with his balcony. Leaning over, she could see no light in his room, and it occurred to her that she could be reading too much into the quiet. He could just be sleeping, and maybe his heartbeat quieted when he slept and she’d simply never noticed. This was her last chance to turn away without looking like a lunatic.

Lucien? She tried, searching internally for the kernel of light that lived inside her, warm and lovely and achingly absent. There was no response. No stirrings at all on the other side of their muted bond. She grasped, helplessly, for something to pull, for the golden thread he’d once tugged all those years ago. When she found nothing, she pulled herself onto his balcony and yanked on the handle to his bedroom.

Locked.

Through the glass, she could see his red hair against the pillows. His face was turned toward her, eyes shut, expression so soft and unguarded she barely recognized him. Elain stilled for a minute, the ache in her chest growing tenfold as she admired the sight of Lucien polished in moonlight.

She rapped her knuckles against the glass. First, with all of the bashfulness of someone who expected his eyes to snap open, where she would need to explain what she was doing on his balcony, undressed and bloodied. Then, with increasing urgency as his eyes remained shut, oblivious to her panicked fists slamming against the glass door not a meter away.

If she’d let Azriel come with, he would have known what to do. And perhaps he would have come up with a far less destructive solution than Elain, who turned to examine the items Lucien kept on his balcony and found a small potted plant that she immediately hurled towards the door. Any faerie would have woken to the sound of the shattering glass. Even one having a particularly nice dream.

His neighbors might even be awake now, coming to their windows to watch Elain push her arm through the jagged hole and unlock the door from the inside. Maybe tomorrow there’d be news articles about Velaris’s new, sloppy midnight burglar. As long as tomorrow’s news was about her, and not the deceased son of Autumn, she didn’t care.

She didn’t care even as the glass cut into her feet, not as Lucien remained unresponsive to it all. Unaware of his intruder. Unaware that his mate was bleeding and panicked and desperate. It was all wrong. Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

“Lucien?” She called, his name strangled in her throat.

In her mortal life, she might have cared about dripping blood onto his sheets, or how she was climbing into a male’s bed in only her night gown. But now she was High Fae and this was her mate—her mate. And all that mattered was getting to him.

Elain cupped his face, nearly sobbing when she felt that it was warm to the touch. Warm. Not claimed by death—not yet. And his lips were parted, expelling air with every rise and fall of his chest. Alive, alive, alive.

Despite the evidence, when Elain pressed her fingers to the pulsepoint on his neck, she was surprised to find a heartbeat as familiar as her own. Steady, healthy, yet still absent from where it once resided in her mind. And he still wasn't awake.

Was it magic? Some kind of spell, or poison? Without thinking, she ripped the bedcovers from his body to see if there was some ailment she was missing. A bite wound, or an arrow puncture, or…. Lucien’s uninjured, perfectly healthy, and obscenely muscular naked body.

Elain yelped, immediately covering him back up. “I’m so sorry,” she said, though he couldn’t hear and was unaware of the violation she’d just committed.

It was then that her eyes wandered toward his bedside table, bearing all the things she would expect from Lucien: a pile of books with loose papers atop them, a leatherbound journal, a dagger with a jeweled hilt, and… a small, empty vial labeled sleeping tonic.

She recalled the vision she’d had that morning, of Lucien navigating his way through the busy marketplace. How he’d paused before a tonic shop, intrigued by their wares. She hadn’t thought anything of it, besides that it meant Lucien had returned to the city. And now she examined the glass shards littering his bedroom floor, the soil spilling out of the broken plant pot, the blood on the floor, the sheets—oh god, it was on his face, too.

“Elain?”

She turned her head, finding Azriel standing on the balcony, looking far more concerned for the state she was in than the unconscious male beneath her.

“Is everything okay?” he prompted.

What did she even say, to answer for all of the reckless, impulsive things she’d done this evening?

All she could do was point to the vial and croak, “The tonic he bought at the shop… will it wear off?”

Azriel squinted through the glass to read the label, then huffed a laugh under his breath, as if he was familiar. “Those tonics will leave you all but dead to the world. The last time I took one, I woke up with a mustache painted on my face.”

That certainly sounded like something his friends would do. Elain couldn’t bring herself to laugh. “So he’ll be okay?”

“He’ll be fine. I can’t say the same for his balcony door, though.”

Elain’s cheeks burned. “Will you take me back? And forget this ever happened?”

The shadowsinger watched her carefully. “Of course. It can be our secret.”

Azriel kept a lot of those. She trusted he would keep this one, at least from Lucien, but even so she couldn’t find it in herself to meet his eyes as he stepped into Lucien’s apartment and lifted Elain from her mate’s bed. They flew back to the house in silence, the stinging in her feet becoming more and more intrusive as her adrenaline wore off.

“Let me take you to the infirmary,” he said once they landed on one of the many verandas.

“No.”

“Elain—”

“No.” She didn’t mean to snap. In truth, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d use that tone with anyone. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that Azriel was only trying to help. That he’d been indulging her foolish impulses all evening, expecting nothing in return. “Just take me back to my room, please. I can deal with it.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened. He said nothing, but he did as she asked.

Only once he left, and she heard his door shut down the hall, did she release her hold on the tears that she’d been repressing from the moment she realized Lucien was okay. Picking the leftover pieces of glass from her feet was preferable to anguishing over the fool she made of herself tonight, though she managed to do both.

What had gotten into her? She’d always felt a measure of the instincts that came with the bond. The pull, the wanting, the need to claim and protect. But they had always been passive, easily brushed aside. What she’d felt tonight had gripped her with such violence that she’d been blinded to everything else, any sense of reason or reservation. What would Lucien think when he woke in the morning and saw that someone had broken into his home? And how would she be able to look him in the eyes, now that his naked form was imprinted in her mind, lingering no matter how she tried to banish it. It was wrong. It was stolen. It was… making the ache feel raw again.

Worst of all, despite Azriel’s assurance that Lucien was unharmed by the tonic, she found she couldn’t go to sleep while his side of the bond remained a torment of nothingness. She turned over restlessly throughout the night, replaying it all in her head, torturing herself with the anxious thought that maybe Azriel was wrong. Maybe the tonic wouldn’t wear off, and her mate was in danger. She should have stayed, at least until she knew he was okay.

Lucien would have stayed.

That thought, more than anything, kept her awake. Kept her debating all night whether she should face the ten thousand steps just to break into his house again. It was only the cuts on her feet, and her own shame at explaining to Lucien how much she overreacted, that kept her in bed, turning restlessly.

It wasn't until the sun came up that the familiar metronome of his heartbeat returned.

And by the relief of its steady, soothing rhythm, Elain was finally able to fall asleep.

#Elucien #Elucien fic #Elucien fanfic #Elucien fanfiction #Maybe I can be pursuaded to write a second chapter #Elain x Lucien #Lucien x Elain

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ekkurea · 4 months ago

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Process

Commission for @thelovelymadone 🤍🌿

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olenvasynyt · 2 months ago

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Happy holidays @stickyelectrons here’s your second gift for @acotargiftexchange ! You said one of your favorite headcanons was Lucien making Elain soup his mother always made for him when he was sick. So I took that and ran with it! Hope you enjoy, my sweet love!

My Poor, Sick Mate

Elucien sickfic, chapter 1/2, 5,574 words

Warnings/tags:

Domestic fluff, Idiots in Love, Sick Characters, Sickfic, Slight Sexual Tension, Kissing in the Rain, Gardening, Cooking, Soup, Comfort Food, Spoonfeeding, Comfort No Hurt, Cuddling & Snuggling, Banter, Mating Bond

Summary:

Elain is tending her garden when she and Lucien get stuck in a rainstorm. She should have predicted she would get sick…but thankfully, Lucien knows exactly what his mate needs.

READ ON AO3

Excerpt below cut:

“It’s a lot dryer in here,” Lucien breathed, sliding his other hand down to her waist. “I think we should take our time, don’t you? Dry off, warm up a bit…”

Elain shivered, and it wasn’t from the chilly rain on her skin. But she breathlessly laughed and murmured, “You said dinner is waiting, Lu.”

“Hm.” His hand roamed down further, following the curve of her ass while the thumb of his other hand pressed tenderly into her hipbone. “I think it can wait.”

A jolt of arousal struck her chest like a bolt of lightning. “You rake.”

“Thankfully a garden shed is a fitting place for a rake.”

She laughed. “I would prefer fucking in our dry, warm house.”

In the dim light, she could make out her mate gazing down at her. His arousal almost seemed to lighten the gold in his russet eye, and his metal one glowed like a gentle faelight.

With a sly smile, she tilted her head, exposing her neck. Parting her lips ever so slightly, she gazed up at him, fluttering her eyelashes and ever so slightly sliding her hands up his chest. His shirt was completely soaked, and she could feel his racing heart pounding under her palms.

His eyes burned into her. Their bond thrummed a keen, aching beat.

She leaned into him closer and closer. He waited, shaking with anticipation.

He was centimeters from his lips when she turned and shoved open the shed door.

“Elain—”

The door rattled open, blowing in a heavy blanket of rain. She was already halfway through the garden, panting and laughing and clutching her soaked skirts. Mud squished under her boots, and she nearly slipped as she reached the hill. The rain poured so hard she was almost blinded by it, but the only thing she could feel was the thrill, the joy and love and—-

She squealed as a strong hand caught her by the waist just as she reached the top of the hill.

“That was cruel, my love,” Lucien crooned in her ear.

“You can complain to me about how cruel and foolish I am when we get back to the house,”

#acotar gift exchange #secret santa #elucien #elucien fanfiction #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #ACOTAR #acotar fanfic

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zenkindoflove · 7 months ago

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Perennial - An Elucien Oneshot

Relationship: Elain Archeron x Lucien Vanserra

Status: Rated T, ~6,700 words

Summary: Fate has always been intertwined with Elain and Lucien's bond. An exploration of how soulmates find each other through every iteration of their existences.

For @elucienweekofficial Elucien Week 2024 Day 1: Fated.

A/N: This is a gift for @works-of-heart. I wanted to write a piece for her stained glassed Elucien art, capturing the epic, soulmate connection that Elain and Lucien have. So we created this fanart/fanfic collab together!

READ ON AO3

Tag List: @crazy-ache , @bonecarversbestie , @teddyhoneybear , @mr-agent-mulder , @works-of-heart , @secret-third-thing , @fieldofdaisiies , @lucienarcheron , @shadowqueenjude , @fox-in-flowers , @olenvasynyt , @the-darkestminds , @sunshinebingo , @goghwilde , @little-fierling , @castielspelvis , @animezinglife , @cupiddoe

#elucien #elucienweek2024 #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elucien fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #zenkindoflove: Perennial

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bonecarversbestie · 4 months ago

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Butterflies - Elain Archeron/Elucien

Mini oneshot ~500 words | rating: G (or as i like to call these short fics: a snicky snack 😋)

This was inspired by my obsession with short hair!Elain.

This fic is also available on AO3

(Also for the record, I don't think Feyre and Nesta would react like this but I had to do it for plot reasons)

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Elain beamed as she made her way through her garden toward the River House’s back door. She kept running her fingers through the short curls at the nape of her neck, giggling to herself as butterflies fluttered in her chest.

She had gotten the haircut on a whim. She'd been struck by the impulse while out shopping and had let it carry her straight through the front doors of the salon.

When it was done, Elain had stared at her reflection in the salon’s mirror for so long that the stylist had had to gently shoo her from the shop to make room for her next client. She had felt like she was seeing herself for the first time—her delicate features now more pronounced, and the pointed ears she’d come to love proudly on display—and she simply couldn’t look away.

Her hair had always been a burden—too heavy and too hot when she was cooking or gardening, and a veil she’d hidden behind because she knew others found it beautiful. She felt lighter now than she ever had before.

Elain bit her lip, still smiling, as she let herself into the house.

“Elain!” Feyre’s voice rang out as she entered the kitchen. Feyre and Nesta were perched on the counter, picking strawberries out of a bowl of fresh fruit.

Feyre leapt from the counter and rushed toward her. She began running her fingers through Elain’s hair. “What happened?” Feyre asked, voice laced with confusion and concern.

Elain’s smile faltered, and her shoulders sagged. “What do you mean? I got a haircut.”

Feyre pressed her lips into a thin line as she looked Elain over.

Elain’s brows furrowed. “You don’t like it?”

Nesta hadn’t moved from her place on the counter, but the horror in her sister’s eyes was unmistakable even from where she stood in the doorway.

“No, no, it’s not that I don’t like it.” Feyre insisted. “It’s just…different.”

The butterflies in Elain’s chest began to die one by one.

“You’ve always had long, beautiful hair. It’s just jarring that you would make this choice so suddenly.” Feyre’s expression became distant as she spoke to someone mind to mind—likely Rhysand.

She blinked rapidly, refocusing her attention on Elain. “We have to go—there’s a meeting, but we can discuss this more after dinner.”

Elain sighed as Feyre and Nesta left the room. She wasn’t sure what there was to talk about. She had cut her hair. It was done. And she had loved it. She hadn’t anticipated such a strong reaction.

Elain set about aggressively scrubbing produce for that night’s dinner.

Footsteps approached, and someone paused in the doorway. She braced herself for their reaction as she turned to face them.

It was Lucien. He lingered in the arched doorway, blinking at her rapidly as if he were staring into the sun. A slow, radiant smile bloomed on his lips. “You cut your hair.”

Elain sighed heavily. “Everyone hates it,” she muttered, letting her head fall despondently to one side.

“Do you hate it?” Lucien’s voice was gentle.

Elain lifted her gaze to meet his and shook her head. “I love it.”

Lucien nodded, eyes twinkling. “Then go on loving it.” His voice was soft, almost breathless. “It is lovely.”

Elain twinkled back at him, and a single butterfly stirred back to life in her chest.

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A quick sketch i did of short hair Elain -- a treat for those of you who read all the way to the bottom *forehead kiss 4 u* 😘

(also for the record i know Elain doesn't need a man's validation for her haircut, but i just think that Lucien would see her and immediately understand its significance to her)

#if you're wondering whether i wrote this to procrastinate cleaning my house or writing my other fics the answer is mind ur business #short hair!Elain #elain archeron fanfiction #Elain archeron #pro elain archeron #pro elain #elucien #elucien fanfiction #Elain headcanon #Elucien headcanon #pro elucien

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