#i adore lucien way more than i thought i would

[not-5-rats]

I adore the idea of mid-sized/plus-sized Angel, cause if they were ever upset about the way they looked or was talking shit about their weight Lucien would just kinda yoink them off the floor.

He's a 6'5 demon, dude can pick you up no matter what and I love it

[utterlyotterlyx]

Starstruck

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Azriel had never wished upon a star, and after finding you, he wished he had done it sooner.

Warnings - FLUFFFFFFF, a touch of angst and sadness

There were thirteen stars that streaked across the skies during Starfall, Azriel had resound himself to noting each one as they made their journey across the same canvas each year, watching how they danced between one another and entranced the city with their show.

He sometimes wondered just how perfect someone had to be in order to be one of them, to shine so brightly and to be so adored that a whole city would wait an entire year to watch them for just a fleeting moment.

After watching for so long, Azriel knew each of them in his own special way, but he had always been particularly drawn to the singular star that always drifted to the back of the colony, like it was trying to stay for just a moment longer, and he could have sworn that he felt it watching him on more than one occasion, even when it twinkled idly in the sky and pulsed with pearlescent light.

One particular Starfall, Azriel gave in to his infantile wonder that perhaps wishing on a star would make all of his dreams come true, dreams that he had never spoken of to anyone. As silly as it felt, Azriel forced himself to close his eyes just as the stars began their dance; he inhaled deeply and wished, what for he'd never tell, but he did it.

In the days that followed, Azriel felt that tiny spark of hope evaporate within him, such showed in his tendrils of shadow who were feeling a little heavier than usual, less mischievous too. Cassian had noticed it, it was only small really and he was surprised that it was him who had caught it, but he knew Azriel better than anyone, he'd notice any slight change.

"What's wrong?" Azriel's chest was glistening in the last dwindling glance of sunlight, rising and falling rapidly as he worked to slow his breathing from his latest training session with Cassian.

Azriel spared Cassian a side-long glance and moved to unwrap his knuckles, the bandages winding onto the ground, "Nothing," he cast his eyes down to his knuckles, bruised and bloody and also throbbing from the impact of Cassian's abdomen, the feeling didn't do much to tempt his thoughts.

"Bullshit," Cassian cursed softly, "You're you but not. Tell me what's going on Az."

Sighing, slightly agitated, Azriel turned to his brother, noticing the stars leaking in from the distance, "I want my mate. I want what you and Nesta have, and Feyre and Rhys. I thought that maybe it was my turn next," his heart stung with the knowing of Lucien and Elain's accepted mating bond, he glanced behind Cassian, seeking comfort in something other-worldly, "I wished it."

Azriel hadn't meant to make Cassian feel guilty, he was glad that Cassian had found his mate, someone to love for the rest of his days., but it didn't stop him from feeling more alone than he had ever felt in his life.

The raw emotion in his voice caused Cassian to stand speechless before him, "I'm going to go for a walk, clear my head."

Without another word, Azriel shrugged his shirt over his head and took off into the skies, unable to look back at the pained expression on Cassian's face. Part of him was ashamed for his feelings, he was Spymaster of the Night Court, anyone who loved him would be in constant danger, perhaps that was why he hadn't been gifted with a soul-bound other.

Landing on the cobbled streets of Velaris, Azriel began trapsing through the city with his head hung low, not particularly paying attention to anything until his shadows coiled around his arms and tugged at him. The Shadowsinger scoffed, pushing himself onward and choosing to ignore his companions, only barking at them when they swam over his face and restricted his vision; Azriel swatted at them, "What?"

One particular shadow, the one most prone to dancing and becoming lost in someone's hair, hovered before his eyes, waltzing into the night-kissed air and forcing Azriel to focus. He hadn't realised how far he'd walked until he took a moment to scan the area, he had wandered all the way down to the Sidra, so much being clear from the bubbling drifting from the riverbank as the water sang over the rocks.

Then he heard something that made his heart skip, a soft hum, no louder than a hummingbird, winding down the cobbled path to meet his ears. It was sweet and calm, full of life and serenity, and he couldn't stop himself from following it.

His shadows shivered with each step, each one becoming more active with every metre forward they were carried until they saw you, you were kneeling in the water that perfectly reflected the sky, fingers dipping beneath the surface whilst it swam by you. Your hair was unbound and kissing the surface in a way that sent small ripples through it whenever they would collide.

Azriel stood on the bank and watched you, not being able to place you in his mind, he listened to your song, unwilling to stop his shadows from drawing themselves toward it. Only when those tendrils of darkness grazed against your skin did the song halt, it was replaced by a soft giggle, one that could have made the darkness part to allow in the sun if it wished it.

"Can I help you?" The shadows shuddered at your question, convicted to dancing to the sound of your melodic tone, coiling around the finger you had raised to your eyes to inspect them closer, "How peculiar."

The drenched skirt of your pale blue dress pooled at your feet when you stood, but you didn't take your eyes off of the shadows. And, as if realising how potentially rude they were being, Azriel moved to intervene, to beckon them back to his side, "I'm sorry, they don't seem to want to listen to me today."

Turning to face him, Azriel lost every thought in his mind, the only one lingering in his consciousness being that you were easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, "It's alright, I don't mind," you told him with a smile as wide as the Sidra. His shadows continued to dance around you, slithering into every gap possible to just be as close as they could, "Who are you?"

Azriel was slightly taken back by the question, everyone knew who he was, and he didn't mean to feel egotistical when he thought that, most people were afraid of him, and everyone in the city certainly knew who he was. "I'm Azriel," he attempted to call back his shadows but they refused to leave you, he had half a mind to waltz right up to you and pluck them from your skin, but he stayed put, "Who are you?"

"Y/N." Beautiful.

"I haven't seen you here before."

The moon reflected off the surface of the Sidra,

Humming softly, you glanced about with a furrowed brow, like you were trying to find something familiar until your eyes dragged upward and settled on the sky, "And where is here?"

"Velaris. The City of Starlight."

"Starlight," your voice drifted, eyes unwavering in their upward gaze, "How pretty."

Perhaps Azriel should have been cautious of you, the beautiful thing with the long hair and voice as tempting as a siren's, but he wasn't, not even a little bit. If anything, Azriel had found a comfort within you despite only being in your presence for a mere few moments.

After a few moments, your wandering eyes returned to earth and you moved past him, up toward the cobbled path he had strayed from to find you, "Can I walk you home?"

Turning on the balls of your feet, you grinned at him and continued backward, "I'll be fine."

Azriel took a single step forward, "Will I see you again?"

"If you wish it," you told him with a knowing smirk, one that he didn't recognise, before turning from him and disappearing into the night, leaving Azriel wondering just exactly who you were to be able to cause his shadows continue to whisper your name into the darkness.

The next time Azriel saw you was in the Palace of Threads and Jewels, he had only caught a glimpse of you, but your scent of jasmine and pine lingered where you once stood. Azriel excused himself away from Nesta and Feyre, both of who glanced to his hurried form as he retreated from them.

Rounding a corner, he found you inspecting a bouquet of night lilies, your fingers gliding across the velvety petals with a genteel smile on your lips, one that widened when his shadows curled around your ankles, "Hello again," you called to them endearingly, beckoning them up to your fingers where they happily rested whilst you brushed the tip of your nose again them.

Azriel felt his heart clench at the action, and he only pulled himself from his entranced state when you graced him with your attention, "Hello to you too, Azriel," your hands were folded neatly behind your back, his shadows now resting on your shoulders.

"Hello," he took a step forward, and then he noticed just how small you were in comparison to him by the way you craned your neck up to look at him, "I knew I'd see you again."

A grin formed on your lips, "Did you wish it?"

"Perhaps,” Azriel folded his arms across his chest and drank you in, the pinned back hair and the baby whips that floated over your forehead, the white dress that hugged you in all of the perfect ways, and those bright doe eyes tinged with a touch of mischief.

"Then consider your wish granted,” the heel of your shoe clicked against the floor, the aroma of fresh roses and foliage filling the air, and you cocked your head at him slightly as if appreciating his beauty, “How have you been?”

In all honesty, Azriel had been feeling much better since that night he left Cassian after training, and that was because of you. Azriel couldn’t stop thinking about you, how lost you seemed but also not afraid, how gentle you seemed, and your voice, he couldn’t get it out of his head. Without wanting to admit it, Azriel had been looking for you, lazily, but with a hope he thought he had lost. And now there you stood, as pretty at the petals that drifted along the floor.

“I’ve been alright,” he leaned against the pillar of the stop, angling his body into you. It had been an age since someone had asked how he was, especially in the way that you asked, with genuine intrigue and care. “How have you been?”

Smiling, you answered, “I’ve been good,” you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and giggled softly as a shadow flowed through your hair.

“I’d like to get to know you,” he said with gentle conviction and you couldn’t help but blush, enjoying the sight of those soft eyes and rough exterior clad in black pants and a matching long sleeved cotton shirt.. “If you’d let me?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” you shrugged and took a step forward, close enough to scent the cedar on his clothes, “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing,” Azriel internally cursed himself for responding so fast, showing his eagerness to spent more than a moment under the moon with you.

With a knowing smirk you huffed out a laugh, “Well, walk with me? I want to explore a little.”

Not needing another word, Azriel pushed himself from the beam and stepped aside for you to slip past him, slowly meandering through the market and observing everything that you could.

“Where is it that you live?” Azriel asked, happy to simply watch you scan the shelves and touch anything that looked soft.

Without looking back, you answered his question with a voice as warm as summer rain, “A little cabin by the streams,” the cotton of your bag brushed against your skirt as you swayed from side to side, craning your head and standing on your tiptoes to glance at the top shelves.

Azriel knew the place, he had always been drawn to it, the white window frames that turned yellow in the golden light that poured from insane, the thatched roof that was almost plaited in the finest of knots, and the tiny garden erected toward the back facing the forest where an array of flowers of all breeds bloomed and basked.

“And you? Where do you live?”

You led Azriel down the cobbled streets, picking up trinkets and admiring their beauty before placing them back on the shelves, “I live in the House of Wind,” from your furrowed brow, he knew that you didn’t know of it; Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders and turned you gently, reaching beneath your chin to angle your head upward, “Up there.”

“It looks beautiful,” you hummed, “You’re very lucky.”

“Yes, I am,” you missed how he looked to you when he spoke, captured by a gleaming stone resting on a plush cushion.

Closing the gap, you took the stone in your hand, resting it in your palm and letting the chain sway against your wrist, “It’s so beautiful,” you spoke in a tone a hush above a whisper, the rustle of a curtain begged your focus and you glanced up to see an elderly woman approaching you.

“A beautiful stone for a beautiful lady,” her voice rasped, but her kind eyes were fixated upon you, smiling in their own way.

“How much?” Azriel asked, appearing behind you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Azriel, no. It’s too much,” you protested, it was an ornately beautiful jewel, a white stone that reflected against the cloth of the ceiling that billowed in the breeze, “I can’t.”

Azriel, nodding his silent message to the shopkeeper, took the chain in his marred fingers and draped it around your neck, clasping it at the back and watching as your fingers reached to brush against it, “It was made for you.”

“Thank you,” you turned around to face him, and it took every ounce of willpower to not brush his fingers against your cheek.

The dropping sun cast its glow over your face, and Azriel gasped slightly, the sun turning your eyes molten and pristine, and felt the golden thread within him thrum into place. For a moment, the world seemed clearer, his senses heightened and your scent seeped into the foundations of his being.

From the look on your face, you had also felt it, your lips had parted slightly and your eyes were wide and glistening, “It’s you,” he was in disbelief, but his heart sang when you rested a hand over his heart, “You’re my mate.”

A gentle nod confirmed it, and Azriel couldn’t stop his hand this time from brushing against your cheek, his thumb dragging over your skin, “Yes.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever find you,” he whispered, “You’re real?”

“I’m real,” you entwined your fingers with his and brought them to your lips, kissing the marred flesh of his knuckles, “I’m here.”

Azriel struggled accepting that someone as perfect as you had been chosen to be his.

He didn’t want to rush you into anything, he wanted you to be comfortable, but he’d be lying if he said that every single part of him wasn’t irrevocably obsessed with you.

But when you met his family for the first time, and held Nyx and rocked him to sleep, did Azriel know that there was no one more made for him than you. Nesta and Feyre adored you from the moment they laid eyes on your sweet smile and large eyes, they had practically whisked you away to a separate sofa to probe and gossip with you. After you had spoken to Cassian and Rhys, his brothers moved to him with wide smiles, telling him that you were perfect.

Then there was Nyx who cried every time someone tried to take him from you, his nuzzled into your side, resting his head against your chest as he slept.

In the months that followed, his adoration for you only grew, and the night you had accepted the bond had been the most magical moment of his life. And not long after, he made you his wife in the most ornately warm ceremony the city had ever seen.

Each day was full of love and laughter, he moved into the cabin with you, and enjoyed every single moment of his life knowing that you were the one waiting for him at the end of the day.

Starfall had rolled around again, reminding Azriel that it was the same night a year ago that caused him to wish for you. He stood with you on that balcony, a stones throw away from the rest of his, and now your, family as the skies opened and the stars began their descent.

“I’ve never seen it like this before,” you uttered, hands resting on his forearms that were wrapped around your waist.

The stars soared, but their usual course was disrupted by their decision to fly toward the balcony. They hovered before you and Azriel and he felt your body leave his embrace, your fingers outstretched to float between the stars that waltzed around your body, “I’ve missed you too,” you told them, skin glittering with their kiss.

Bewildered, Azriel watched you have a conversation with the stars that painted the sky each night. Frowning, he counted the stars, noticing each one as the ones he knew and named, the same ones he created stories and lives for, to only find that one was missing, the last one who always lingered. Then his eyes moved to you and he wondered how he hadn’t realised it before.

The last star was you.

It made sense, you had always shone so brightly in comparison to others. Everyone had always felt settled around you, and Azriel had just thought that it was your serenity that caused it, but no, it was because you were a star.

“You’re a star,” that’s why you didn’t know where you were that night he had found you, it’s because you had fallen from the sky and landed his city, his home.

Smirking slightly, you walked into his open arms, sighing as the stars moved around you, “I prefer to say a wish come true.”

Azriel, chuckling at your words, hooked a finger beneath your chin and pulled your eyes upward, his breath fanned over your face. “If I’d have known then I would have wished for you a lot sooner.”

Authors Note

Just a little one from me 😚

[siriuslystyle1989]

You're a smooth talker, fox boy.

Lucien Vanserra x Rhys sister!reader

Warnings: Drinking/alcohol consumption, kissing

Summary: After Elain rejects the mating bond, Lucien needs a drink. Y/n is bored and never turns down a drink so volunteers to go with him to Rita's.

Masterlist

Y/n had a pretty... on and off love life. Yes, she would occasionally have guys in her bed but never for very long and she hadn't had a consistent male in her life since before Amaranthas reign fell upon Prythian.

Hence her surprise when she found herself enjoying talking to none other than Lucien Vanserra. A male she had many times labelled as boring and not worth her time.

Since arriving in the night court with Feyre, Lucien had made many dire attempts to speak to his mate, Elain however, unfortunately for him, such attempts were met with nothing more than a polite smile from the girl.

And when Azriel had begun to court Elain, Lucien had practically given up all hope of ever being able to accept the bond.

This is how Y/n and Lucien Vanserra found themselves slightly tipsy in Ritas on a Saturday night.

Being a princess of the night court was all about keeping up appearances however Ritas was a place Y/n could let her hair down without worrying TOO much about prying eyes and the possibility of her brother, Rhys, walking in and seeing her in a state.

Luckily for her, he was at home with a 6-month-old baby.

"you want to go for another round of shots?" Y/n questioned the redhead, smirking slightly.

"Only if you can keep up princess." the redheaded male replied, swiping a strand of hair away from his russet eye.

Y/n looked at him as he spoke, he was truly beautiful. His auburn hair seemed to relax down his shoulders and his deep rich skin was laced with freckles.

Sitting back down ready to do their third round of shots, the two locked eyes once more.

"Cheers"

"Cheers fox boy."

At this Lucien let out a chuckle and shook his head as he downed the shot at the same time as Y/n, both of them letting out a sigh of relief as they finished.

They had been at Rita's for a few hours now but both found themselves genuinely enjoying each other's company.

"You know Y/n" Lucien began, putting down his glass and maturely opting for some water.

"I really needed this, after all the stuff with..." His voice trailed off as he looked down.

"I know" Y/n gave him a sympathetic glance.

As painful as a rejected mating bond was, Lucien knew he needed to move on.

"Thank god for alcohol."

the pair began to laugh again.

"you have a beautiful smile." Lucien voiced after a few minutes. "I promise it's not the alcohol talking."

Y/n snorted "You're not too bad yourself."

The male smiled and she watched him drum his fingers rhythmically on the wooden table.

"Anyway, I think I need to go before I get too drunk and forget my way home." Y/n spoke, placing her hand on top of Lucien's. "Thank you for tonight though, it was fun, we should come here again sometime."

Lucien smiled again, this time, however, his eyes were full of adoration.

"Let me walk you home, princess" he replied, offering her his arm.

The two wandered the streets of Velaris as they made their way to Y/n's apartment.

As they reached her door, Lucien spoke once more "Tonight was amazing"

"It was, whenever you need a drinking buddy, I'm always around." Y/n joked back.

"You looked beautiful tonight by the way."

At that, Y/n stood on her tippy toes and attached her lips to Luciens. The male clutched the side of her face gently deepening the kiss.

As they slowly parted, lips red and puffy Y/n began to laugh again as Lucien joined in.

"You're a smooth talker, fox boy."

A/n: guys thank you so much for all the love on my Azriel post!! i thought id make one on Lucien because he is my fav!!

[violetasteracademic]

I saw someone say they don't like Elriel simply because Azriel and Elain don't do it for them as a couple. They just aren't into the emo boy/flower girl dynamic. And truth be told? That's the most respectable anti take I've ever heard. Because there is no right or wrong, there's no points to argue. It's just like, hey, I see it, and I don't like it. Which is kind of how I feel about G*wynriel and E*lucien as well. So it's genuinely just a really fair and uncomplicated take.

I simply *don't like* forced proximity with the person that has already been assigned to you and eventually falling in love with them, then realizing it's for the best anyways because it will solve a bunch of conflicts as much as I *like* fuck fate and fuck politics and fuck the Gods, you are the person I want and I will burn the whole world down to be with you. If it goes against every rule, if it puts us in the front line of every danger, and tears at the very fabric of society, it still will be you for me and I'll do whatever it takes.

And that's just vibes, there's really not much more to say!

I *don't like* I was completely obsessed with two different women, but after being rejected by both of them I finally realized, thank goodness! I've had a mate this whole time! And I saved her from being r*ped by a bunch more men than just one years ago and then trained with her every day and now that I'm finally free of being in love with other women, I finally have noticed what is right in front of me as much as I *like* your mate is sleeping upstairs and if he catches us he will have every right to demand I fight to the death over you but I literally can't stop wanting you and needing you and questioning fate because I don't understand how we aren't meant to be together.

I know for a fact I won't like a G*wynriel or E*lucien book *as much* as Elriel because I have read those sorts of similar vibes or comparable plot points before, and it's just like, meh. Not for me. My least favorite trope is the guy who suddenly realizes his best gal pal is the one he should have been into all along after only going for beautiful women he thought were way out of his league. That's not romantic to me at all. But I respect that it is to others. I think it's perfectly okay to simply vibe with different things.

Do I think the books are quite clearly headed towards Elriel? Absolutely. But I think even if they weren't, I'd be crack shipping them anyways because I absolutely love what they have to offer plot, story, tone, aesthetic, style, and romance wise. They are the full package for me. Feysand was a full package for me. Nessian isn't my usual style or favorite trope or vibe, but I still enjoyed the hell out of it.

I think Sarah has given the sisters really distinct personalities and completely individual storylines. I personally still love every book. I adored ACOSF. Buuuuut I don't really need it rewritten a second time in a different font, which is what I think G*wynriel would be. Minus all of the "it's been you since the moment I laid eyes on you" swoon worthiness that I loved for Nesta and Cassian and introducing the "I can't believe I didn't notice my own mate standing right next to me and being harmed and put in mortal danger repeatedly for three years because I was in love with other women" element.

But ACOSF is polarizing. I've seen people say it is either objectively the best book Sarah has ever written, or objectively the worst.

Elain is a unique sister, with a personality and powers that could not be more different from Feyre and Nesta. Everything about her book is not going to match what we have seen in the series so far. And I think that's a GOOD thing. ACOSF was a tone shift, and I think Elain's book will be a tone shift. But I think her book is probably going to be polarizing as well. And it will likely be my favorite.

Although the fandom has gotten a bit aggressive, I think it's really cool that people found their favorite in Nesta and ACOSF in a way that is really kind of deep and specific. I think Elain and Elriel will be that for me. That's what books are supposed to do. Humanity is not one size fits all. It makes perfect sense that people locked into Nessian (or just Nesta) in a way they didn't with Feyre/Feysand. And although there's a crop of anti ic people out there now, Feysand will always be a crowd pleaser. So I'm just hoping the girlies who get it will have their chance to connect that deeply with Elriel too!

I love each Archeron sister, and I for one love how different they are. I appreciate their stories for different reasons. But I am ACHING for Elain and Azriel to lean into their vibes and continue on their journey of questioning the system and deconstructing religion and battling the obstacles in their way. That will always be more interesting and way sexier and peak romance to me and will undoubtedly take spot number 1 in my heart.

[aphroditelovesu]

I would cry for something for a Yan! Lucien Vanserra 🥺💖

"I will love you until the day my existence fades away." — Lucien Vanserra.

❝ 🦊 — lady l: oh, how I miss Lucien, especially the one from the first book 😔 he deserves more, much more! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes!

❝tw: obsessive behavior, possessiveness, protectiveness, implied death and toxic relationships (?).

❝🦊pairing: yandere!lucien vanserra x gender neutral!reader.

Lucien Vanserra is a devoted, loving and caring male. He has lost so much and suffered so much in his life that all he wants, all he must do, is make sure his loved one is happy and safe. That is all that matters to him and Lucien will make sure his wishes are fulfilled.

He knows that his darkest thoughts are wrong and Lucien tries to fight them at any cost. His greatest fear is hurting you and he will never forgive himself if he hurts you or harms you in any way. He loves you deeply, so much so that the mere thought of hurting you makes him desperate.

Lucien idolizes his darling, puts you on a pedestal and will do anything for you. Ask him for anything and he will do it without question. He wants to please you above all else and will have no fear or qualms about going "too far" in his constant quest for your approval. He wants you to love him, to be as devoted to him as he is to you.

His obsession manifests itself in such a subtle way that you will hardly notice that there is anything wrong with the way he acts. Lucien is good at disguising his feelings and he will only make you feel what he wants you to feel: security and love. He will never let you feel fear or any kind of negative feelings towards him. Lucien cannot let that happen and he will not.

He is a master at hiding his own emotions conducting his interactions in such a way that you only notice the sweetness and dedication he exudes, having lived under the violent control of his "father" and brothers. Even when obsession takes over, Lucien manages to mask any signs of possessiveness with genuine affection, ensuring that you never see the dark side of his love. He controls his actions with precision, always maintaining a facade of perfection so that you never have reason to suspect his intentions.

Lucien's manipulation is more subtle and you will hardly notice it. His smiles, the way his eyes follow you all the time and how words with ulterior motives come out of his lips are very strong clues but again, Lucien will not let you realize how sick for you he is, how desperate. At least, for now.

Lucien is a fae male and as such, he has a high level of possessiveness over his darling. He is not the controlling type, he will never try to restrict you in any way, not when he knows very well how that could end. You will have complete freedom, of course, as long as you never risk your life, Lucien will leave you free to do whatever you wish.

Although he will never act in a way that could hurt you, Lucien is still very possessive and does not like the idea of ​​other males around you, especially if he does not trust them. He will growl, show his teeth and make his disdain clear, his words sarcastic but full of venom and, if it is really necessary, Lucien will drive them away from you permanently.

Having lost so much and suffered at the hands of people who should love him, Lucien is somewhat paranoid and protective of you, but he will always be careful not to overstep your bounds. Lucien is protective to the extent that he can control it, never forcing himself into your life and always respecting your space, even if it destroys him inside. You are more important to him than the obsession that increasingly consumes him.

You are the light that guides him in the darkness, especially after the traumatic events of Under the Mountain. You keep him going, an extra motivation to fight and stay strong. Lucien almost sees you as a kind of deity, always worshiping and adoring you wherever you go. There is nothing this male wouldn't do for you. He will love you, and be devoted and loyal to you completely.

Lucien will spoil you with anything you desire. One of his love languages ​​is to give you things he knows you will like. Absolutely anything you desire, anything you want to ask for, is yours. Just ask and you shall have it. Lucien will feel useful when he can provide for you and he loves the smile you give him when you receive something you like, so ask for it.

Lucien Vanserra is, above all, a man who strives to be worthy of the love he receives. He wants to be the fortress that protects you, the safe haven where his darling can rest in peace, without fear. And it is this devotion that guides him, that gives meaning to everything he does, even if some of these things are monstrous. He knows that true love requires sacrifices, and for him, there is no sacrifice too great if it means your happiness and safety.

[scorpiussage]

The Robin to My Batman (Neil Lewis/Fem!OC)

Pairing: Neil Lewis/Fem!OC 

Summary: A comic book store opens up next to Gumshoe Video prompting a hot and heavy feud between the two businesses and their nerdy owners. 

Theme: Romance - Enemies to Lovers 

Warnings: Nerds being nerds, smut 

The early morning walks to open Gumshoe Video are always enjoyable for Neil. He loves getting coffee from that family owned Armenian coffee shop down the street, greeting the old man who owns the hardware store across the street, and contemplating what the day’s theme should be. 

However, his gorgeous, peaceful morning comes to a screeching halt as he spots a large moving truck parked in front of Gumshoe— no, parked in front of the vacant store to the left of his. He quickly darts into the alleyway across the street and watches with mounting horror as some—so far unrecognizable—new business moves in. 

“No no no no no,” Neil mutters to himself, already picturing the worst case scenario. What if it’s a competing video store? Or perhaps on of those Christian shops that sells over priced bible themed tchotchkes? Both are miserable possibilities and he has no idea what he’ll do if either of those ends up being the case. 

When the coast is clear of movers, Neil goes sprinting into his store and making a made dash for the phone to call his friends. 

He has a bad feeling about this. 

…

The first time he sees her is at the grand opening of Golden Age Comics, the new comic book store next door. The first thing he sees when he walks in isn’t the life sized cutouts of various comic book characters placed strategically about nor the wall display of rare figurines. 

No, the first thing he sees is her, Bailey Taylor, the owner of the shop. She’s dressed like Wonder Woman, displaying these long shapely legs that have Neil’s jaw going slack in awe. She flutters about the store, greeting customers and advertising the big grand opening sale she’s running. 

Johnathan and Lucien, who came into the store with him, start needling each other excitedly, muttering about how hot she is and Neil can only feel dread. This can only spell bad news, he just knows it. 

Not at all like a coward, he quickly flees the store before she can approach him. 

…

The first time he actually meets Bailey, she comes into his shop. Today Gumshoe is having a deal on westerns and so Neil is dressed accordingly as a cowboy. When she walks into his store, it creates a rather comical juxtaposition as it appears her own store is having a sale on Japanese manga. 

Sailor Moon Bailey and Cowboy Neil stare each other down. 

“Um, hi,” she greets with an awkward little wave, her smile bright despite the uncomfortable mood, “I own the comic book store next door. My name is Bailey.” 

Neil nods stiffly, doing everything in his power to not stare at how hot she looks in that cosplay. When Neil fails to respond, an irritatingly adorable frown mars her features 

“Okay,” she mutters to herself before saying, “Well, I just wanted to see if you’d be willing to do a team-up and have a collaborative sale.” 

Neil scoffs, “And what? Hock old Adam West Batman tapes?”

She perks up and nods enthusiastically, “Yes! Exactly! I actually have this really great id-.”

Neil shudders at the thought and cuts her off before she can get going, “The old Batman show is absolute garbage in its cinematic delivery— no way would I subject my customers to that.” 

The glare she gives him could cut steel and admittedly makes his happy bits stir in interest. 

“Garbage?” She snarls, “That show was a pioneer for superhero media! Just because some over hyped alcoholic wife beater didn’t direct it, doesn’t mean it’s not good!” 

Neil’s eyes narrow at her and he crosses his arms, trying to appear more authoritative than he usually looks, “Oh believe me, the director has nothing to do with the bad editing and poor visual shots!” 

The woman looks like she’s visibly holding herself back from launching herself over the counter and decking Neil in the face. His cock makes another inappropriate twitch at the thought and he internally scolds himself for these reactions. 

Without another word, Bailey storms out of the store and stomps her way back to her own shop and Neil breathes a sigh of relief. 

God, he really needs to get laid if some uneducated comic dork is getting him riled up. 

…

After that disastrous first encounter, a Cold War of sorts settles over the two businesses. If Neil is having a sale, Bailey will have a better one. If Neil does a midnight showing of a movie, Bailey hosts a free-to-join D&D party. If Neil dressed up, Bailey does too but does it better. 

It’s aggravating. 

Neil doesn’t even know what it is about her that has him going absolutely insane, but it’s beginning to be a problem. For instance, last week she dressed up like Cat Woman and strutted about both in and out of her store, placing herself in full view of Neil boredly manning the register of his own shop. He had to go and jerk off in his office like five times; and he was still horny afterwards!

Like he said— problem. 

And it’s only getting worse. 

“Dude, oh my god! She’s dressed like a school girl today!” Johnathan says while rushing into the shop, a lecherous grin on his face, “Her skirt is so short!” 

Lucien cheers and Neil rams his head onto the surface of the checkout counter repeatedly. 

He’s gonna die horny and infuriated by her subpar taste in cinema, it’s inevitable. 

Lucien just gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and leaves him to his melancholy while he and Johnathan go next door. 

“Ugh what do I do?!” He laments pathetically to himself. 

…

The second interaction that Neil has with Bailey happens on a slow night for both businesses. 

Neil is parked on the shop couch, watching Lady in the Lake and barely staying awake when she comes into his shop. She’s dressed normal today in a worn Captain Marvel t-shirt and denim shorts and he’s a little too tired to properly hide the slow up and down he gives her. 

A little blush settles on her face when she catches him doing that. 

“Slow night?” She asks after clearing her throat awkwardly. 

“Yeah, you?” 

Bailey blows a raspberry and nods, walking over to the couch and throwing herself down onto it next to Neil. He quickly scoots over, giving her room while trying to smooth his shirt and hair down to look less like a mess. 

“What are we watching?” She asks. 

Things sort of devolve from there. Whether it was one innocent comment taken the wrong way, or an intentional dig, it prompts a fresh new screaming match between the two of them over the cinematic quality of the Adam West Batman series. This woman will not let go of that trash TV series, Neil realizes.

Bailey gets up from the couch at some point, Neil hot on her heels as they move their heated argument about the store. It’s when they’re next to the wall that Neil pushes her against the surface and pins her arms high above her. He’s not thinking when he kisses her, pushing his tongue into her mouth to taste her— he’s running purely on adrenaline and instinct. 

That first kiss they share is not a gentle one; it’s rough and filthy and hot. 

“You are such a brat,” Neil bites out scathingly, his hands slipping away from her wrists to start running over her chest, cupping those perky tits of hers in his hands. 

“You are an obnoxious tool!” She sneers in return, her now free hands making quick work of his belt buckle and the button on his jeans. 

“I can’t believe how terrible your taste is in cinema! A rock would have better opinions!” Neil helps her push his pants down and then reaches forward to yank her shirt off. The bra she’s wearing is just a simple navy colored one but it has him physically biting back a moan at the sight. 

She smirks up at him, then pushes him away with a rough shove, sending him into one of the shelves. She gets into his space, wrapping her arms around his neck and initiating another one of those blood racing kisses. 

He reaches down and grabs her under her thighs, hoisting her up to wrap her legs around his waist. He starts walking them back towards his office, fully intent on throwing her down onto his couch in there and getting all this frustration out of his system. 

Sex has always been pretty gentle and by-the-book for Neil, he’s never had a desire to be rough or for a partner to be rough with him, but Bailey makes his head fuzzy. She makes him want to do things he’s never done before. 

“Fuck— Neil!” She gasps when he puts her down and immediately sticks his hand down the front of her shorts and starts rubbing along her slit. It’s so wet and he groans, his cock twitching in anticipation. 

“Can’t wait to shut you up,” he tells her, his long fingers alternating between rubbing vicious circles on her clit and slipping down to enter her with harsh thrusts, “Been thinking about this for weeks.” 

Her fingers scratch lightly across his stomach as she pushes his shirt up, “Well, you’re going to have to do lot better than this to make that happen.” 

His eyes narrow and he pulls his hand out of her shorts, ripping the button open and yanking them down her legs. He grips her around her hips and flips her onto her stomach, climbing onto her legs to keep her from kicking about. 

“I am so sick of that smart mouth,” he tells her before laying a loud slap to her right ass cheek, making her cry out in surprise that dissolves into a moan. He would spank her in earnest, but he’s been so fucking horny for so long that he only gives her a few smacks before slipping his fingers up under the edge of her panties, rubbing the buttery soft skin of her ass. 

Trailing his hands up, he unhooks her bra and climbs off of her so that she can turn over onto her back. She’s quick to shuck off her bra and panties, exposing herself entirely to his hungry gaze. 

“You said you thought about this for weeks,” she remarks while slipping her fingers down to her folds, “How many times did you jerk off to me?”

He groans and goes down to his knees, leaning forward and shouldering his way between her thighs. 

“So many fucking times,” he admits shamelessly before licking into her with enthusiasm.

Her fingers thread through his hair, tugging him forward and using the leverage to grind against his face. He could die here, smothered between those shapely thighs, and it would be in total bliss. Her moans are the sweetest thing he’s ever heard and he endeavors to hear them get louder. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He asks, his fingers returning their journey of entering her and his eyes watching with hooded rapture as her cunt sucks them into her. 

“Neil,” she gasps his name, chanting it like a prayer and he picks up the pace with his fingers. He sucks on that hard little bud of hers and feels her cum around his fingers, that soaking cavern gripping him tightly. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “please let me fuck you.” 

Her thighs are shaking as she comes down from her orgasm high, “Yes, fuck yes.” 

He doesn’t need any more encouragement— he’s barely got his underwear down before he’s pushing into her. She’s tighter and wetter than any other pussy he’s been in and he tells her as much, rasping filthy things into her ear as he begins a brutal and unrelenting rhythm. 

“Thought about bending you over the front counter and fucking you stupid so many times.” 

Her nails dig into his back, raking along the surface and certainly leaving their mark. 

The thought alone of her marking him could make him cum. He bites his lip harshly to try and wrestle back some control, unwilling to see it end so soon. 

It barely works as his hips stutter in their thrusting. 

“Can I cum in you?” He asks— no, practically begs her.

Her arms snake around his shoulders, tugging his head forward to rest against hers, their mouths finding each other hungrily. Between filthy, tongue filled kisses, she gasps, “Please!” 

Permission granted, he buries himself as deep as possible inside of her, the head of his cock nudging her cervix, and he cums. He groans loud and long as those warm, wet walls squeeze every last drop from his cock, sucking it better than any blow job could manage. 

He pulls out of her slowly and almost reluctantly, sad to part from that perfect cunt of hers. A flow of white cum follows his departure, dripping from her opening and over her ass in thick globs. 

He’s never seen something so sexy in his life and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t get to see it again. 

Stepping back from Bailey, he grabs his shirt off the floor and uses it to wipe her clean, chuckling at the deadpan look she gives him for the effort. Tossing the shirt aside, he climbs onto the couch and lays himself out next to her, pulling her to rest against his chest. 

They lay like that for a long time, catching their breaths and basking in the after glow. 

“You don’t really hate the Adam West Batman series, do you?” Bailey asks, her eyes looking up at Neil imploringly. 

Neil about answers the way he normally would but when he looks down at her and sees the earnest expression she’s wearing, he doesn’t have it in him to be an asshole. 

“No, it’s not that bad,” he lies and feels his heart flutter when she shoots him a beaming smile in return. 

He thinks he can stand mediocre cinema for her sake. 

[starsreminisce]

LucienWeek2024 Day Two Fox

Dandelions in the Wind

Word Count: 3900 Rating: GA @lucienweekofficial

Summary: There is an Old Mother's Tale where burning letters would send those words to your mate, wherever and whoever they are. Lucien Vanserra doesn't believe in it but finds comfort in the ritual. Until one day, his letter to Elain goes missing as he asks a fox to deliver his Winter Court missive to Rhys.

Read on AO3

The wind howled as Lucien gazed through the frost-laced window of his room at Kallias’s palace in the Winter Court. An angry snowstorm swirled outside, white and relentless, as he dipped his quill into the inkpot.

Kallias wasn’t happy with the apology or the terms. I explained it was all Amarantha’s doing, that you acted under her command, but he still holds you responsible. After all, it was you who suggested it to her. Viviane’s been more understanding—she’s willing to trade his life for the children’s. I could propose an even exchange of information: access to the Velaris libraries, if you find that agreeable.

Lucien dipped his quill again, then paused. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, searching for another solution. Kallias and Viviane... he liked them both, remembered sneaking out as a youngling to play with them in the snow. But High Lords and Ladies had their roles to play, and duty often took precedence over friendship. It annoyed him—this need for formality, for guarded words and actions.

A soft pulse stirred in the bond, like a gentle tug in the back of his mind. Lucien sighed and pressed a hand to his lower rib, to the place where his thread to Elain began. She didn’t mean to reach out—he knew that. Even when they weren’t speaking, her curiosity sometimes slipped through the bond, unbidden and undeniable.

Elain.

He couldn’t help it, not always, her curiosity slipping through in moments like this. And in response, a strange habit had started, a way for Lucien to expel his excess energy from her gentle prodding.

Elain,

I’m in the Winter Court for emissary business, and it’s as exhausting as you’d imagine. Kallias is being difficult, and Viviane... Well, she’s not exactly helping. I would’ve thought Rhys and Kallias reached an understanding during the High Lords meeting, but it seems that the fallout was only delayed.

But it’s beautiful here, truly. The gardens are a wonder, even in the snow. The camellias are in full bloom, their petals bright against the frost. Frost Lotuses peek through the snow, and I think you’d love it. I can see you tending a garden even in the depths of winter, finding a way to make life flourish in the cold.

He paused, the image of Elain in a winter garden so clear in his mind it felt almost real. He dipped the quill again, letting his thoughts flow.

I hope you’ll remember the fox messengers from the war. Viviane told me they’re more than just adorable in their vests. Apparently, if you ask nicely, they’ll dance after delivering your message. They take their job seriously. I hope you get to see one when Rhys’s report arrives. They’re quite entertaining.

Lucien tapped a finger against his chin, then continued.

The Winter Court is wonderful in its own way. I hope one day you’ll see it for yourself. I’d love to show you that there is beauty in the cold, as Feyre once told me how harsh winters were as a human… if you’d allow me.

There would be a grand dinner, with much more fanfare than the Night Court’s usual affairs. I hope one day you’ll attend as well. It reminds me of the elegant balls you’re accustomed to, though with a different charm. Hewn City may have its own allure, but this is something else entirely. It’s more whimsical than the gothic grandeur of Hewn City—a celebration of starlit snowfields and glittering frost, where beauty is found in every frozen breath.

Until then, know that you are in my thoughts, wherever I go.

Forever yours,L.

Lucien folded the letter carefully, his fingers lingering on the paper’s edges before slipping it into an envelope. He planned to burn it later, offering the smoke to the wind, like in the old Mother’s tale. They said the ashes would carry the message to your mate wherever they are, delivering your words in their dreams. He didn’t really believe it—but there was comfort in the thought, in the quiet hope that some part of his words might still reach her.

He set the envelope aside and returned to his report for Rhys. A quick note—just a line or two asking for guidance—before sealing it with his official mark.

Lucien rose from the desk and stretched, his gaze drifting to the window. The storm was still raging, snow whipping violently across the frozen landscape. For a moment, he imagined how Elain must have lived in that tiny, drafty cottage, relying on whatever Feyre could bring back from her hunts.

He’d heard bits of the story from Feyre—the endless hunger, the cold that seeped through every corner—and he felt a pang of sympathy, imagining how powerless Elain must have felt, caring for her ailing father in such bleak conditions. He couldn’t help but admire the quiet resilience that Elain’s father had spoken of so highly.

The clock chimed, marking the hour and reminding him that it was nearly time for dinner. Lucien frowned, wondering how he could get his missive delivered in weather like this.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a white fox appeared before him as if conjured from thin air, its embroidered vest gleaming under the soft fae lights. It sat tall and proud, bushy tail curled neatly over its paws, and fixed him with an unblinking, almost expectant stare.

“Aren’t you professional,” Lucien muttered, quirking an eyebrow.

The fox blinked slowly, as if to acknowledge the compliment.

Lucien tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “May I see you dance?”

Without hesitation, the fox rose onto its hind legs and began hopping from side to side, its movements surprisingly graceful for something so small. Lucien couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Elain will love you.”

At that, the fox let out a high-pitched gekker and spun in a quick circle, chasing its own tail before resuming its little dance.

Lucien raised an eyebrow, turning back to the desk. “I have an important letter,” he said. “Can you deliver it?”

The fox sneezed, as if mildly offended by the question, then leapt onto the desk, as if to say I know my job. Before Lucien could stop it, the fox grabbed the envelope in its teeth, hopped down and, with an impressive twist, tucked it neatly into the small pouch on its vest.

Lucien crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at his lips as the fox stretched its front legs in what looked like an exaggerated bow. “Alrighty,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Off you pop.”

He turned back to his desk, ready to begin his ritual of burning the unsent letter to Elain. But as his hand reached for the second letter, his stomach dropped. The letter to Elain was gone.

No. No, no, no.

His mind raced, retracing his steps. He hadn’t misplaced it—he was certain. And then the realization hit him, cold and sharp, like a bucket of ice water.

From down the hall, the faint tap of paws on stone echoed, growing fainter by the second. Lucien’s gaze snapped to the doorway. The fox was trotting away, its tail swishing merrily, both letters bouncing at its side like trophies.

“Come back here!” Lucien shouted, his heart pounding as he bolted after it.

The fox paused just long enough to toss him a smug look over its shoulder, then darted away. Lucien cursed under his breath, feet pounding against the floor. He was fast, but the fox was faster, darting around corners, its gekkering echoing back at him.

Lucien nearly slipped as he rounded a sharp corner, catching only a glimpse of the fox’s bushy tail vanishing from sight.

“Stop!” he yelled, but the creature only looked back again, taunting him with those sharp, glinting eyes.

It dashed ahead, weaving through the palace halls like a ghost. Lucien sped up, breath coming fast, heart hammering in his chest. The fox was playing a game. And he was losing.

Suddenly, the creature veered toward a door with a flap at the bottom and slipped through it, vanishing into the storm outside. Lucien skidded to a stop, lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the flap, which still swung back and forth from the fox’s escape. Its white fur had already melted into the swirling snow, impossible to track in the blizzard.

Irritation prickled at him. He couldn’t winnow directly to the Night Court, not from here. With a growl of frustration, Lucien opened the door and broke into a run again, feeling like he was chasing shadows through the storm. His only hope was the scent that lingered on the paper, his own scent—but it was quickly being swallowed by the cold, crisp air.

Desperate, Lucien headed straight for the River House, knowing he’d be late for dinner at the Winter Court but with no other option. He pushed himself harder, running as if he could outrun light itself.

Within moments, he was standing in front of the River House, breath clouding in the chilly air. He rapped on the door, and it swung open to reveal Rhys, his face already brimming with amusement.

“Well, well, Little Lucy,” Rhys drawled, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Lucien swallowed, trying to keep his tone even. “Did the fox messenger come here?”

“It did,” Rhys said, his grin widening.

Fuck.

“I… wasn’t done with the report before the fox took it,” Lucien lied. “May I have it back?”

Rhys raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced, but nonetheless pulled out an envelope from his jacket.

Lucien’s pulse quickened. “Is that it?”

“Yes,” Rhys said, though there was a trace of impatience in his voice.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Rhys repeated, slower this time, clearly growing tired of the exchange.

Lucien’s lips pressed into a tight line, and before he could stop it, Rhys sent a vivid image into his mind—a memory, sharp and clear. The fox, looking every bit as dignified as a Court courier, neatly curled its body to retrieve one envelope before handing it over to Rhys. Only one.

“Looks like I, uh, forgot the other half,” Lucien muttered, inwardly cringing.

Rhys’s expression hardened. “This is important, Lucien.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucien sighed, before Rhys, clearly done with him, slammed the door shut.

Lucien turned on his heel, frustration burning in his chest. But as he looked up, his heart nearly stopped—there, standing at the edge of the pathway, was Elain. She wore her winter cloak, a basket in her hands, her wide, curious eyes meeting his.

He quickly composed himself, offering a polite nod. “Good evening, lady.”

“Sir,” she replied softly, dipping into a slight curtsy.

His gaze flicked to the basket. “Do you need help carrying that in?” The offer slipped out before he could stop himself, his manners seizing the chance to prolong their conversation.

“No, sir,” Elain answered with a small smile. “But thank you for the offer.”

He fought to keep his frustration in check, pushing through his awkwardness. “Did you, by any chance, see a fox messenger?” he asked, attempting nonchalance.

“I did,” she said, and for a moment, Lucien’s heart lifted. Maybe—just maybe—the fox had delivered the letter to her. Perhaps he could even ask for it back, claiming it was meant for Rhys.

But before he could say another word, she added, “It delivered its one letter to Rhys.”

His chest tightened, but he kept his expression neutral, a strained smile tugging at his lips. He was tempted to ask if the fox had delivered any other letters, if perhaps she had received one herself—but the thought of her asking why a fox might bring her a letter from him made his cheeks warm.

“Of course,” he muttered, attempting to brush it off. “Well, I hope it entertained you.”

A small smile flickered across her face, her eyes sparking with amusement. “It did. It… danced.”

“I heard they do. I’m glad you were able to witness it.”

Their eyes met, lingering a moment longer than was proper. Lucien’s pulse quickened as he fought the urge to say something more, to close the unspoken distance between them. He could feel it—their mating bond, a faint pull between them, fragile but undeniable. It thrummed under his left rib, a constant reminder of everything they hadn’t yet acknowledged.

He wondered if she felt it too. If she sensed that quiet, insistent tug drawing them closer, as impossible to ignore as it was to act upon

But whatever words he might have spoken stayed caught in his throat.

Lucien gave a small nod, his heart sinking deeper. “Good night, lady,” he said, bowing once more, even as the ache of unfulfilled words lingered between them.

“You as well, sir,” she replied, curtsying again, before slipping past him, avoiding his gaze.

As he walked away, the weight of what could have happened lingered heavily in his chest. He had no time to dwell on it now. He still had to return to the Winter Court.

He took his time getting back, using a combination of winnows and sprints. When he finally arrived at the palace, he braced himself for the inevitable fussing from Viviane and Kallias, as well as the curious looks from the rest of the Winter Court.

The evening passed in a blur of courtiers’ questions and discussions of court relations, but Lucien’s mind kept drifting. He clung to the faint hope that the fox, realizing its task was incomplete, might return to him. After all, the envelope had no addressee—it could still come back. The fox, clever as it was, might get agitated over an unfinished job.

At least, that’s what Lucien kept telling himself.

Despite his wandering thoughts, he managed to enjoy the gathering, the elderberry wine flowing freely and loosening the tongues of those closest to Viviane and Kallias. They offered insights that made Lucien think Rhys might finally secure an agreement—something to soothe the tension. But once the night drew to a close, Lucien found himself alone, still thoroughly convinced that the fox was out there, somewhere, trying to find the intended recipient of the second letter.

He decided to head to the birchin, hoping the steam and solitude might help him relax. He let the warmth ease his tension as he recalled his exchange with Rhys and Elain. Well, now that he had told Rhys he wasn’t done with the report, he figured he might as well make good on that claim. Filling a page with gossip wouldn’t hurt, and the wine had provided plenty of material to work with.

When he was done, Lucien penned the second half of his “report,” including a few rumors about Autumn and Day Courts and a playful mention of Viviane’s tipsy admiration of Night Court decorum. For a moment, he thought about writing another letter to Elain, filling her in on the evening’s events, but decided against it. Given what had happened earlier, he didn’t want to tempt fate.

Just as he was finishing up, the same white fox materialized out of thin air, its eyes narrowing at Lucien with something close to scrutiny.

Lucien sighed. “Well?” he asked, voice tinged with frustration. “Where’s the other letter?”

The fox tilted its head, then threw its head back and gekkered again. Lucien’s patience wore thin as the fox started its usual dance, hopping from side to side, its bushy tail swishing in rhythm.

Lucien rubbed his temples. “I don’t speak fox,” he muttered under his breath.

The fox sat down, flicking its tail over its snout in what Lucien swore was a demure gesture—if a fox could be demure.

Lucien threw up his hands. “Whatever,” he muttered. He grabbed the newly penned letter to Rhys and handed it to the fox, eyeing it with suspicion. “I trust you’ll get this to him.”

The fox sniffed the letter, then looked up at him, impatience glinting in its eyes.

“That’s it,” Lucien said firmly.

The fox blinked, clearly unimpressed, then sat down, fixing him with a steady, expectant gaze—as if waiting for Lucien to hand over a second letter. Preferably one addressed to Elain.

Lucien narrowed his eyes, tapping his foot in some kind of stubborn standoff. “I don’t have another letter for you to deliver,” he said through gritted teeth.

The fox’s ears flicked, unconvinced. It stayed rooted to the spot, gaze unwavering, as if daring him to cave.

Lucien exhaled sharply. “I am not about to embarrass myself in front of my mate just because you want…” He trailed off, a sudden thought striking him. “Wait… did you actually deliver my second letter to someone?”

The fox responded with a sharp gekker, its eyes glinting with what looked suspiciously like amusement. Lucien could only grumble in defeat.

Without another sound, the fox spun around, tail swishing as it darted out of sight, the letter for Rhys secured in its vest.

Lucien watched the fox disappear, no longer finding the creature cute or endearing. He stared at the empty doorway for a long moment, wondering just how much dignity he’d lost to a laughing fox. With a heavy sigh, he removed his clothes and climbed into bed, but his mind still lingered on that damned letter to Elain. Surely it wouldn’t turn up somewhere it shouldn’t. Like with Eris.

He tried to shove the thought aside, but the unease settled over him like a second skin.

As sleep tugged at him, the last thing on his mind wasn’t court politics or trade agreements. It was Elain, bending over to greet the white fox with a gleeful smile on her face. The fox would dance for her, chasing its tail in circles before bowing low and—Mother above—she’d procure a letter for him.

Lucien’s eyes snapped open as dawn filtered through the curtains. He blinked groggily, only to find the fox perched on top of him, its tail swishing in lazy arcs.

“Can I help you?” Lucien grumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

The fox glanced down at its vest, then dropped something square onto Lucien’s face. The soft lilac paper brushed against his nose, bringing with it a familiar scent.

Jasmine. With honey.

Alarm jolted him awake. He sat up, fingers trembling slightly as he grasped the letter. The penmanship was neat and feminine, with a looping elegance that sent his heart racing.

Elain’s handwriting.

He needed tea. No—he needed time. Instead, he paced, his thoughts spiraling into panic. What had Elain written? His mind leapt to the worst possibilities.

Leave me alone.Creep.Please don’t ever write to me again.Please, sir, don’t ever write to me again.

The fox, now curled comfortably on his bed, watched him with half-lidded eyes, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

“Let me guess,” Lucien muttered dryly. “You’re not leaving until I read the letter?”

The fox stretched luxuriously, before coiling back up, settling in for a nap. Its eyes closing as though to say, You’ll get no peace until you do. Lucien sighed and sat down beside it, scratching behind its ears absentmindedly. The fox whined softly, leaning into the touch as if offering comfort.

He took a deep breath and, with one last moment of hesitation, opened the letter.

Dearest Lucien,

At least, that’s how I would have hoped you’d start your letter, though I suppose it was never truly meant for my eyes. I apologize for not mentioning that the fox delivered a letter to me first, before delivering your missive to Lord Rhysand. It’s been so long since I’ve received a letter of any kind, and I must admit, it was a welcome surprise. Thank you for your thoughtfulness.

The Winter Court sounds beautiful. I looked into the flowers you mentioned, and I agree. It would be wonderful to see blooms during the Night Court’s winter. I imagine it might be too cold for me to tend to, as I must confess, I quite detest being cold. But still, the idea of something blooming in a place where it otherwise wouldn’t… there’s a certain magic in that, isn’t there? A bit of unexpected life in the midst of all that frost.

As for your conundrum with Lord Kallias and Lady Viviane…

Lucien snorted at the way she underlined their titles.

…Perhaps a change of perspective is what they need. I’m not sure if you know this, since you weren’t there last year, but …

Lucien frowned at that, puzzled by what she meant to imply.

… Starfall is a celebration of those who have passed. Perhaps such a celebration could bring some solace to Lord Kallias and Lady Viviane, serving as both a way to honor the lives lost and to celebrate Lord Kallias’s survival. It might also help Lord Kallias understand that Lord Rhysand deemed his life worth saving because they both share an understanding of the value of life. By saving Lord Kallias, the cost was the children, but it was with the hope that Lord Kallias could save more lives than were lost.

I enjoy reading about your experience at the Winter Court. It reminds me of the letters Papa used to send me when he traveled for business—how he always promised to bring me along one day so I could see the world through his eyes. Your letter brought back those same feelings of comfort, something I didn’t realize I had forgotten. Thank you for reminding me of the little things he did.

If you have the time, I would love to hear more about your adventures and offer advice where I can. Perhaps Lord Rhysand and Feyre might even allow me to be of some use to the court, if you believe I could be helpful.

Lucien’s breath caught at the last few lines.

Yours very respectfully,E(lain)

P.S. Just in case you were expecting another person whose name begins with the letter E to sign off.

For a moment, he let the words sink in. Not just the content, but the tone—the gentle curiosity, the offer of help, the nostalgia that mirrored his own. He hadn’t expected... this. He had braced for rejection, for polite dismissal, for indifference. Instead, Elain had written something thoughtful, almost kind.

The fox shifted beside him, giving a satisfied little stretch, clearly sensing the change in Lucien’s mood. He glanced down at the creature, then back at the letter, running a thumb over the edge of the parchment.

“Well,” Lucien murmured softly, more to himself than the fox. “I suppose I owe you an apology for doubting you.”

The fox blinked slowly, resting its head on its paws as if to say, I told you so.

Lucien chuckled, shaking his head as he scratched behind its ears. The fox gave a low, contented hum, clearly pleased with itself. But Lucien’s thoughts were still circling Elain’s letter. He hadn’t expected it to be so... pleasant. It had soothed him in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and that left him feeling oddly light.

He narrowed his eyes at the fox, realization dawning. “No wonder you looked so demure when I asked about the other letter.”

The fox let out a high-pitched gekker, tail swishing with satisfaction. Lucien paused, but then—a faint sound echoed through his mind, like the softest of giggles. Elain’s laughter, light and amused.

For a heartbeat, Lucien froze, unsure if he’d imagined it. But the fox gave him a knowing look, its eyes gleaming with mischief.

Lucien sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m surrounded by tricksters,” he muttered as a small, reluctant smile tugged at his lips.

[cressidagrey]

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours- Chapter 3: Eris Vanserra, Heir to the Autumn Court

Summary:

5 Times Cassian thought that Azriel had feelings for somebody and then 1 time he finally met the girl his brother was in love with.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Sadly, trying to find out who Azriel’s secret lover was…turned out to be a bit of an impossible feat. 

There wasn’t anywhere Cassian could follow along to that Azriel wouldn’t find out about. There was nothing that Azriel was doing that was making it obvious who he was seeing. 

It was so annoying that Cassian had no clue what he was supposed to be doing anymore. Why couldn’t it just be easier?

But he wasn’t the General of the Night Court Armies to give up that easily. He was not. 

Cassian was going to figure this out. 

One way or another. 

First things first: Badger Azriel about the stupid Siphons. 

“So can I have the name of the blacksmith that you are using?” he asked Azriel without preamble, watching him attentively. Maybe that was gonna give him a hint of what was going on with his brother. Maybe that would be helpful…

“I am not using a blacksmith,” Azriel answered, after a moment. Cassian took in the way the shadows seemed to swirl around him more like they were telling him something and how his hands tightened nearly imperceptively. Azriel didn’t have many tells, but Cassian could see them. He knew him for long enough to know him that well. 

So that was the truth. He wasn’t using a blacksmith. But it wasn’t the whole truth. Of course, it wasn’t. 

“Then who else did the whole thing with the siphons for you?” he asked curiously. If it wasn’t a blacksmith…though he had snuck a peek of the mechanism that held the siphons in place. It seemed too delicate for a simple blacksmith. More something a goldsmith would use. Definitely not Illyrian by origin. 

But where would Azriel have found a goldsmith…

“A friend,” Azriel answered, looking decisively shifty. Interesting. 

“The same friend who made Nesta’s hairpins?” A stab in the dark but a good one. Azriel looked less than pleased about it…maybe his friend had something to do with whoever he was seeing… “Where did you meet that friend?” Cassian kept pushing. 

“Since when do you care how I spend my time?” Azriel gave back with a sigh. 

“Since you got new toys to play with and aren’t sharing,” Cassian shot back immediately. 

“I gave Nesta the hairpins, didn’t I?” Azriel defended himself. 

He had. Hair pins that Nesta absolutely adored and wore nearly every day these days. Azriel had come through with another set after the first, that one set with moonstones of all things. Nesta loved them just as much as the first set. 

“You aren’t answering the question,” Cassian pointed out and Azriel gave him a very pointed look that seemingly told him, Oh really? 

“You aren’t going  to, are you?” Cassian said with a sigh before he grinned.  “Worried he’ll like me more than you?”

The flinch was the last thing he had expected. Yeah, he had hit the bullseye. Unintended though.

“No. Just that I won’t get any more new toys,” Azriel gave back, crossing his arms. 

So whoever that friend was…he was important to Azriel. Very important. 

“Fine, keep your secrets,” Cassian agreed, even when he was already plotting his next steps. “But I want first dibs whenever he figures out something really cool.”

Next step: Once again get on Rhys’ nerves. Maybe Azriel had told him more than he had told Cassian. 

“Do you happen to know the friend that made the siphons for Az? ” he asked Rhy at the next family dinner. Even Lucien and Elain had come over from Day Court, with Elain happy to catch up with her sisters, the Archeron sisters secluded in one corner, milling about before they would all sit down for dinner. 

“A friend?” Rhys asked him curiously. 

“Not a blacksmith apparently. But with the siphons he got new toys to play with and I don’t get any. So I wanna know,” Cassian admitted easily. 

“Well, if Az doesn’t want to share…” Rhys gave back with a shrug. Well, that was helpful. Cassian looked around the room, the inner circles dotted around, but no glimpse of Az. 

“Is he coming to dinner?” he wondered. 

“He is.” Rhys sounded so sure when he said that. 

“Are you sure?” Cassian asked, doubtful. These days, Azriel didn’t come to all of them. Not even half. Sometimes he went but then didn’t stay for dessert or one of his shadows whispered something in his ear and off he went to do something . 

It was just another thing in a long line of them that had changed through the years. 

Cassian never said anything, because to be the only one in a room full of people that were in happy relationships while he wasn’t probably wasn’t very fun to Azriel. 

And then there was that ELeain and Lucien were coming and…putting Azriel in the same room as the female he had been in love with and her mate, just seemed especially cruel. 

“He didn’t want to but I changed his mind,” Rhys said evenly. 

Oh for cauldron’s sake. 

“Do I want to know how you did that?”  Cassian asked, holding back a grimace. 

He didn’t know what exactly had gone down between Azriel and Rhys…but ever since that one solstice…something had changed. He had never dared to ask, because neither of his brothers had seemed inclined to not rip off his head for daring to voice his thoughts. 

So he had hope that it would go away with time. Well, three years on…and it didn’t seem like that was the case. 

Azriel came to some family dinners, took part in the annual snowball flights, played with Nyx, treated Rhys with all the respect benefiting a High Lord…and also seemingly turned even quieter. He did his job just as well as he always had, Cassian didn’t doubt it but…there was a distance there that hadn’t been there before. 

“I told him that moping around his house didn’t count as plans,” Rhys quipped. “He was not amused.”

Right. 

Maybe Az had just wanted to get out of seeing Elain and Lucien. 

“Maybe he wasn’t moping around,” Cassian offered. Maybe Azriel had somebody else to spend time with. Somebody that he loved and wanted to court and…

“Ah yes. His secret lover,” Rhys said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Nesta was complaining to Feyre about how that’s all you were talking about,” he answered Cassian’s unspoken question. 

“You don’t believe it?” Cassian wondered. 

“You think he would be able to keep it a secret from me ?” Rhys asked him, arrogance seeping into his tone. “Besides, he needs to get over himself eventually. I think he can sit through a single dinner.” 

Cassian held back a grimace. 

Did he think that Azriel would be able to keep a secret from Rhys? 

If Azriel thought he had a very good reason for it? Yes. Absolutely. Cassian didn’t even doubt that for a second . 

Azriel would go to the end of the world if he thought he could protect somebody he loved. 

Cassian just wondered why his brother thought he needed to protect them from Rhys of all people. Why he didn’t tell his family about what was going on?

Cassian would be happy for him. If Azriel showed up tomorrow and told him that he had found somebody he loved and who treated him like he deserved to be treated, Cassian would be happy for him. He wouldn’t fucking care who it was. As long as Azriel was happy, he was happy. 

Azriel did show up finally. Quiet and withdrawn, sitting down next to him and more playing with his food than actually eating, but he did show up. 

Sitting through that dinner, doing what Rhys demanded of him. Not voicing a word of protest. 

What’s he thinking about? Cassian asked Rhys, curious at how Azriel seemed far, far away, lost in thoughts.

Table linens, Rhys gave back. 

Tell me that’s a joke.

No. Azriel is thinking about table linens.

Table linens? What was that about now? 

The plot thickened. 

The table linens didn’t stay the most interesting thing though. That was the sharp repartee Lucien provided while Azriel tried not to be anything but helpful. 

Cassian was one more pointed comment away from interfering. 

All that Azriel had been doing was trying to help, for cauldron’s sake. 

He kept calm for longer than Cassian had thought he would. And then he came around the corner with: “I also know that you are related to one.” Meaning an enchanter and Lucien seemed not happy at all about this. 

Lucien’s knife hit his plate, the sound loud in the suddenly quiet room. “How do you even know that?” he hissed. 

“I am the spymaster of the Night Court,” Azriel said, his voice quiet but even.  

“So what, you care about gossip from 3 centuries ago?” Lucien demanded. “Do you have nothing better to do?” 

Cassian opened his mouth but Elain laid a hand on her mate’s. “Luce,” she said, her voice soft, calming him. 

“If it’s useful, yes ,” Azriel said, voice quiet.  

“How could it possibly be useful to you? Also, he’s dead. Has been dead, for over a century,” Lucien snapped. Azriel stayed quiet. “That didn’t show up in your research, did it?” Lucien sneered. 

This was unlike Azriel. If Azriel used something like that, then he would have already known that whoever he had meant was no longer living. This was just…weird. 

This was weird. 

But what seemingly wasn’t these days? 

One of Azriel’s shadows came darting a few moments later, doing that weird thing they sometimes did, where they became nearly bodily for a moment or two and left something for the shadowsinger. 

Even after over 500 years of being around Azriel, the shadows were still a mystery to Cassian. 

They left a simple note for Azriel, dropping it next to his plate. He reached out to open it without hesitation. 

Cassian was curious enough to try and sneak a peek. The only thing he could read was absolute gibberish. 

That didn’t seem to be the case for Azriel though. He removed a second sealed note, placed it on the table and then without hesitation put his own note in his empty water glass.

Seconds later, it burst into fire with a bright flame. 

Cassian just stared at it. 

He had seen that a few times. It was how the Autumn Court sends correspondence, making sure that nobody else but the intended recipient could read it. Destroying the evidence, after it had been seen. 

And suddenly…it all made sense!

The reason why Azriel kept a secret from Rhys because it wasn’t just some random female that he had met in Velaris that he was seeing. 

It wasn’t a female at all! 

It was Eris Vanserra. 

That it must be. That would give Azriel a reason to keep the relationship quiet, away from every single one of them, because all of them would have tried to talk him out of that. 

Him, Rhys, Mor…

“By the cauldron, you are seeing Eris!” His mouth moved on his own accord, the words leaving his body without his input. It was the pure shock of that realisation that made him spit out the words. 

“Cassian!” Nesta complained, long sufferingly, rubbing a hand over her forehead.  He could feel her annoyance over the mating bond but he couldn’t help himself. 

“The letter just went up in flames! That’s how the Autumn Court sends correspondence!” Cassian defended himself. “You are seeing Eris!” he accused Azriel wide-eyed, who sat frozen in place, still staring at his water glass. 

How could Azriel even…How? When had that happened? How had that happened? What had happened? 

Cassian had so many questions.

“And because of that, you are now thinking that Azriel has a love affair with Lucien’s half-brother?” Feyre asked haltingly. 

“Yes!” It made perfect sense! It did!

Azriel was in love and didn’t want to admit to it! And he was in love with Eris Vanserra.

“No.” Azriel’s voice put a halt to his speculation. It was icy. 

“But…” Cassian started, but he didn’t even get out more than the first word because Azriel cut him off. 

Azriel could have cut glass with how sharp his voice was. 

“Cassian, I have absolutely no idea what makes you think that I am in some kind of romantic relationship with Eris Vanserra but I’ll gladly swear to you on my own life, that that is not happening in a million years. And Eris was not the one writing me.” 

Oh. 

“Who was writing to you then?” Rhys asked, curiously. “Must be somebody from Autumn.” 

True. Maybe it was Eris after all!

“I know somebody that knows somebody,” Azriel repeated, picking up the other note and handing it to Cassian with a glance at Lucien. Cassian handed it over. The handwriting was elegant and loopy, the note closed with a wax seal, showing a stylised O surrounded by…something that he couldn’t place. “An enchantress is willing to meet you tomorrow. Bright and Early,” Azriel explained to Lucien.

That wasn’t what Cassian had expected. It was the exact opposite, to be honest. 

No secret relationship with Eris after all? Just some message from Azriel to get Lucien the enchantress he needed? 

After how snippy Lucien had been with Azriel, Cassian was surprised that Az had even bothered to do that. It would suit Lucien fine if Az didn’t even bother helping him. He could just keep his whirring eye. 

Especially when Azriel had never even done anything . He had been nothing but supportive of Lucien and Elain’s relationship. Hadn’t said a single thing against it. Done nothing. Attended their wedding quietly and then left as soon as it was polite to do so. 

Whatever Lucien’s problem with him was these days…Azriel had done nothing to deserve his ire. 

Lucien hesitated at taking the note. Cassian wanted to roll his eyes. Like Azriel would curse it. 

“If I wanted you dead, the plan would be a lot less convoluted. Just for your information,” Azriel pointed out, his tone even. 

Lucien finally took the note, glanced at it, and Cassian watched him swallow. 

“Where did you meet her?” he demanded, his voice hoarse. 

“I know somebody that knows somebody,” Azriel repeated. “That’s my job. And that reminds me, I have to go.” And there he was, already standing up, not even having eaten half a plate. 

“So soon?” Feyre asked, sounding surprised. 

“I have plans,” Azriel didn’t seem willing to share more than that. Still, Feyre watched him, curiosity painting her gentle features. 

“What kind of plans?” She asked. Feyre and Nesta were probably the only two who could ask him a question like that and not get their head bitten off. 

“The kind of plans that I am not willing to change.” 

He had never heard Azriel’s voice quite like that. There was no use to argue with him. Not when he sounded like that. 

And off he went, disappearing again. 

The mystery was still unsolved. 

“ Eris ? Really, Cassian?” Rhys asked with a sigh.

“Excuse me, it made perfect sense!” Cassian defended himself. It did! It made sense! 

“It did not,” Nesta snorted, for once agreeing with her brother-in-law. “Why, Cassian?”

He pouted.  

“What enchantress did he find for you?” Rhys asked Lucien curiously. 

“My cousin,” Lucien answered with a sigh. “She has been living around here for…a hundred years, I think. Give or take a few.” He turned to Cassian. “Though I still wonder how did you come up with Azriel seeing my brother?”

“Cassian thinks that Azriel has a secret lover,” Nesta answered the question. “Eris is the latest of his theories. Disproven once again.”

He glared at his made. 

“I’ll figure it out,” he said tightly. 

He would. 

So it wasn’t Eris Vanserra. It must be something or somebody else. The question was just who.

[acourtofthought]

I think it's fair to say that my blog is extremely Pro Elain Archeron as well as Pro Lucien Vanserra as well as Pro Elucien.

Keeping in mind that I adore Elain.....

It's interesting how certain people in the fandom consistently downplay the importance of Lucien's character. How it'll be no big thing for a biracial disabled male who was forced to witness his first loves murder and chased out of two homes to be rejected by his mate who he longs for two years after their bond snapped while remaining loyal as he makes no demands on her as she figures out her new world.

They'll say this as if Lucien Vanserra was not someone in book 1, a book where the author thought Elain was just going to be a stereotypical "bad stepsister" sort of figure.

Can we stop and think about that for a moment? The author did not think Elain would be anyone to the series at first.

That clearly changed for both sisters and she set them both up to have epic journey's but from book 1 LUCIEN received main character energy. Tragic backstory. Hints that his business with Beron and his brothers was not over as he had never forgotten what they did to him even if he pretended he had. Right hand to a High Lord, a High Lord who said he put Lucien in the position he did because he was better at things than even Tamlin himself. We were told Lucien was fast, handsome, sassy, brave.

Lucien has ALWAYS been someone.

And when she realized the sisters were going to have their own stories beyond what Feyre was seeing, she considered having Lucien and Nesta end up together because again, Lucien was always meant to play an ongoing role which now involved his possibly becoming Feyre's brother in-law. After mulling that over she realized that she did not want this "someone" from book 1 to have a love interest who would cause him more suffering (likewise for Nesta).

So instead of Nesta, she mated Elain to Lucien. One can assume that is because she felt that he and Elain would be better suited to one another. Why would she not want Lucien and Nesta to worsen one another's trauma but felt fine with Lucien and Elain worsening one another's trauma? There's no logic to that. And an Elucien pairing would again lead to him becoming Feyre's brother in-law, seems like something she was really pushing for.

I'm so very sorry that people pretend Lucien's character is not important but it sure sounds to me that Lucien has been her focus for much longer than either of the sisters, that she always wanted him to be in Feyre's life in a major way and that she'll make sure Lucien will not end up unhappy with a rejected bond.

Of course the sisters became an extremely important part to the series in book 2 and beyond but just because her love for their characters grew, it does not mean her love for Lucien diminished. It does not mean that what some think Elain wants before her own story became more important than what SJM has always wanted for Lucien.

[nikethestatue]

saw this elriel tiktok about elain potentially exhibiting mate behavior toward azriel. https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP88JB5AK/

do you think it’s right? if so, can you think of any other examples?

I guess to me, while it's maybe a less 'direct' manifestation of them potentially being mates, but the exchange of Truth Teller. So he gives it to her, and only to her. She, while being extremely reluctant, takes it. He, in fact, wraps his hand around hers, and then she accepts it, even though a moment before she categorically refused to take Cassian's dagger. Again, Azriel's own thoughts are immediately on HER. He wants to arm HER and protect HER. He could've given it to Feyre, for example, his High Lady and a much more experienced warrior than Elain. Or, of course, to Mor, whom he supposedly adores so much. Yet, he went--limped--to Elain and handed it to her. She took the dagger, which really is an extension of Azriel (and don't get me started on the sexual imagery, but aside from that), she accepted it, carried with her, stepped out of the shadow (if the dagger itself spews shadows, it obviously wanted to protect and conceal her, (but aside from that) she also has the presence of mind to pick it up--covered in muck and blood and literally bits of cut off head--and she carried it with her for the whole battle, not knowing if Azriel would survive, or if she would. Afterwards, she returned it to him, making sure that not only does he have his dagger back, but also that he has its protection back, since it always strikes true.

Something subtle, but monumental happened during that exchange. They obviously power shared in some capacity, and he chose specifically Elain to hand the dagger to.

I mean, after 'a man could tell what's wrong' and Lucien is there, but Azriel is the one who figures it out--like what else do we need?

And the fact that he can smell the scent of the Elucien bond and it makes his nauseous.

And Lucien's reaction to specifically Azriel when Azriel took Elain to the garden. We never see him react to any other male like that, so much so that Rhys needed to step forward and assure him that Azriel 'isn't the ravishing type'.

There is definitely something going on.

But just in general--Elain 'clings' to Azriel. She only gives HIM presents for Solstice, he is the only male who gets a gift from her. The only other 4 people are her sisters and her 2 friends. Her mate didn't get one. She invites Azriel to sit with her. She goes with Azriel to the garden, alone, while with Lucien, she was 'chaperoned' by like 4 others. She makes herself pretty for Azriel. She looks to HIM for support and finds comfort with him. She stands at Azrel's side when in Hewn City, taking her place next to him. Basically no one affects her the way that he does.

[azrielbrainrot]

Sfw Alphabet with Lucien Vanserra

note: I think the lucien running around my brain might be a little ooc but hopefully not too much! I love him a lot, I hope you enjoy.

(since i did azzie i thought i'd do luci too)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He's very affectionate no matter who's watching. Well unless it's Beron because he knows it could actually get you killed. But if that's out of the way then he'll always be touching you in someway. He's the type to always kiss and hug you as a greeting even if you've seen him that day already. He's also constantly holding your hand.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's easy to befriend but I think it might take a bit to get to bestfriend. He probably still has some trauma after Tamlin so you'd have to show that you're trustworthy first but then it's smooth sailing from there.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Of course, it might be the best part of his day. I think he likes being the big spoon. He also likes laying you on top of him or have you sit in his lap while he's reading or working. He'd use any excuse to cuddle you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yes, I think he wants a place to call home more than anything. I can't see him being bad at anything honestly.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He'd be sweet about it. He would talk you through it and remind you that it wasn't your fault. He might even pull the "it's not you, it's me" card but also actually mean it. After what happened with Jesminda, I wonder if he'd try to break up with you to protect you if he knew being together could bring you any harm. I don't think he could make it last honestly, especially if he saw how heartbroken you were.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I'm not sure marriage is that important to him. Like as long as you're together it wouldn't make much of a difference if you got married or just lived together.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's so gentle. Lucien would never intentionally do anything that could cause you harm in any way. He'd be so gentle with you feelings and emotions and your every thought. He'd treat you with so much love and adoration.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He's a great hugger. He's the type to lift you up and spin you around a little if he's in a really good mood too. He'll nuzzle into the crook of your neck, breathing you in, and laugh into it when you ask him what he's doing. God I need happy Lucien so bad.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Every day. He has learned the hard way that he needs to cherish every moment while he can and he'd want to make sure you always knew how he feels about you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I'm not sure he'd get all that jealous but he'd still fuck you if something happened just for the fun of it. Like he wouldn't truly be upset or even think you wanted someone else but he would still fuck you in front of the mirror so you could watch him while he whispers the dirtiest things into your ear. "Tell me who's making you feel this good". "Keep screaming my name so they can hear how good i can fuck you". "Do you think that male could make you burn with pleasure like I can?". (that wasn't all that sfw apologies)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Soul consuming. He's probably so sensual and passionate with his kisses. He'd kiss you over your entire body to make sure he learned how every inch of your skin felt against his lips. He'd welcome your kisses anywhere but he's probably such a slut for cheek kisses.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's very sweet with children. He'd probably do cute fire tricks to entertain them too.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Lucien are spent with soft kisses and even softer touches. He'd wake you up with sweet words pressed into your ear and kisses all over your face. Then he'd give you the most beautiful smile and a soft "good morning beautiful". You'd either spend some time cuddling and smiling at each other like idiots or he'd roll on top of you and wake your body up with pleasure. You'd definitely wake up to him with his head between your legs from time to time too. He'd just look up when he saw you awake and give you a "there you are" and go right back to it until you saw stars.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

I go back and forth. He'd definitely enjoy nights in, just the two of you. Having dinner, reading together and just staying up talking about everything for hours. Lucien is definitely the type of person you could have the most emotional and serious conversations with and he'd still manage to throw some lightheartedness in there. You could go from the meaning of life to your worst fears to the latest pastries at your local shop and he would give you the same amount of interest for all of these and never make you feel silly for anything you ever said. But then he'd also love to go out and experience life with you. You would dance for hours, laughing your hearts out. As much as I want to keep this sfw, I can't just move past the fact that he'd fuck you for hours on end, whether you stayed in or went out that night. This man would never pass the opportunity to show you how much he wants you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I think it wouldn't take that long for him to open up but there are some things he'd keep for longer. This boy has a lot of trauma so he would just go at his own pace and wait for the right timing to tell you everything. I don't think he'd try to hide anything or feel ashamed about any of it though, he'd just have to make sure you were together for a bit before being too vulnerable.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has the patience of a saint. I mean we can see that with how much control he has over himself with this whole Elain thing, even managing to push down all those overbearing instincts. So he'd definitely be patient with you beyond measure.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything. He makes sure of never forgetting anything of importance.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He definitely cherishes all your first moments together. I can see him lean into your forehead and let out the fattest sigh when you kiss him for the first time. Definitely replayed the first time you told him you loved him a million times in his head.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Of course he'd protect you but he would love it so much when you protected him. That was something he didn't get too much of so it would make his heart beat at a million miles an hour every time you stood up for him. If it's a more physical thing, like an attack or battle, he'd probably be beyond freaked out if you tried getting in front of him to protect him because of what happened with Jesminda. He couldn't watch another lover die or even get hurt because of him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He'd put all his effort into everything when it comes to you. But I also think he likes keeping things casual. He'd definitely prefer a candle lit dinner at home than going to a fancy restaurant. And I think he'd buy you beautiful gifts but the flowers he picks up on his way home would be even more meaningful.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He pushes his feelings aside to prioritize yours. And then it comes to a point where he can't ignore them anymore and he'd be absolutely wrecked, way more than if he had talked things through with you beforehand.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He knows he's pretty and he likes keeping it that way, like who can blame him? But he's not that worried about looking too put together either. He's just effortlessly pretty.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yeah. Especially since he doesn't really have a place where he belongs, you'd be that place for him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He does his daily affirmations every day in front of the mirror while he brushes his hair.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Uptight and judgy people. Prejudiced people. Cruel people. People like his family really.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He probably talks in his sleep. I don't know why this came to mind but I can see him murmuring random things when he's dead asleep.

[bardic-tales]

Nurturing November: Day 7: dreams and goals

Throughout this month, I’ll be sharing character-building exercises that I have completed that will bring out my ocs’ more tender sides. This can be anything from snippets to oc questions to character analysis.

It has always been Bianca’s dream to have a family with Sephiroth and to celebrate the holidays with him: the way Sarah used to celebrate with her. This is her cherished dream.

Winter brings a cherished tradition. I haven’t thought of the name for this holiday yet. Memories of her surrogate mother, Sarah, inspire it. Though Sarah was a human and Bianca holds little affection for humanity, so much that she rewrote the Omniverse to remove their presence, the warmth and love that her mother figure brought to the season left a mark. Now, with her children and Sephiroth by her side, Bianca is determined to carry out the tradition. Not for the sake of humanity, but to foster a sense of belonging and wonderment within her own family.

On this specific holiday, Bianca gathers her children and Sephiroth beneath the starlit sky and is often in a place of profound significance, such as the Ethereal Nexus, the boundary between all dimensions. She tells them stories that blend myth with reality, recounting tales of ancient beings and cosmic forces that shaped the old Omniverse. Celeste and Lucien, each carrying part of her divine essence and Sephiroth’s Jenova cells, listen with wide-eyed wonder as she shares these memories, reminding them that even amid the abyss and celestial realms that the children will rule in the future, that there is a bind that ties them all together. With Sephiroth nearby, she lets the spirit of her childhood memories soften her usual intensity, creating a safe space of warmth. Through these stories, she hopes to instill in her children a sense of heritage beyond their circumstance — a heritage that is rooted in love, legacy, strength, and unity.

Bianca brings a physical element to this tradition: one that Sarah taught her when she was young. A mother always gives an ornament for a gift to her children. She manifests small, crystalline orbs filled with shimmering stardust, each one holding a memory and blessing that both Sephiroth and she wish for their children. As Lucien and Celeste receive their orbs, Bianca secretly wishes that these gifts will remind them of their family and place in the vast omniverse she had recreated, knowing how her own mother figure would have adored moments like this. By celebrating this holiday, Bianca ensures that even in darkness, her children and family feel cherished and connected to something greater than themselves.

I introduce Bianca and Seph's children here. I love this idea of her creating these orbs every year for Celeste and Lucien. ☺️

tagging some fellow mutuals: @themaradwrites @littleshopofchaos @serenofroses @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@nightingaleflow @seastarblue @prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen

@chickensarentcheap @serenofroses

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Ok I can focus again would you be willing to write elucien fluff where lucien runs warmer than usual and elain likes to steal his warmth whenever

Thanks so much for sending! This is absolutely adorable, and I fully support Lucien warming Elain up. Especially with that Autumn Court fire and that [redacted]. Anyways! Hope you enjoy this short and sweet and fluffy drabble :) And happy @elainweekofficial! This is perfect for Day 2: Love Languages

Elain crosses her arms tightly across her chest, rubbing her hands up and down her forearms as she sniffles quietly. She squints down at the kettle sitting above the flame, willing it to boil faster. When she was younger, her mother would always remind her that a watched pot never boils, but Elain is determined to prove that wrong now. She shifts back and forth on her feet, the movement and slide of her thighs helping slightly to relieve the goosebumps pebbling across her skin.

The sound of bubbling water finally reaches her ears, and Elain excitedly turns off the stove. She pulls the two teacups she had set aside closer to her, carefully picking up the kettle and pouring it over the loose leaves inside each. While that steeps, she grabs a small plate, piling it with the sweet blueberry pastries she made the other day.

She adds milk to both cups and a spoonful of sugar to one before setting everything on a tray, carefully walking everything into the sitting room and placing the tray on the low table in front of the sofa. She picks up the teacup with just milk first, turning and holding it out.

“Thanks, love,” Lucien murmurs, taking the offered teacup.

Elain picks up her own teacup and the plate of pastries, and then she sits down. Right in Lucien’s lap. Lucien lets out a surprised sound, spluttering into his tea, but Elain doesn’t let it deter her. Instead, she presses back even closer into his chest, letting out a contented sigh.

“Comfortable?” Lucien teases lightly, chuckling lowly.

“Very,” Elain tells him primly, taking a slow sip of her tea. “I’m cold and you’re warm.”

“Perhaps if you were wearing more clothing, you wouldn’t be so cold.”

Elain looks down pointedly at her bare legs, at the shirt that she’s wearing. Lucien’s shirt. With his tall frame, it’s too big on her, the hem hitting halfway down her thigh and the collar already sliding down her shoulder. But it’s light and comfortable, and if Elain tips her chin down, the scent of cinnamon and the forest after it’s rained floods her senses.

“I suppose I can change into one of my dresses instead,” Elain starts with faux innocence, making to stand back up, but Lucien’s free arm wraps tightly around her waist, tugging her right back down. She bites back a smirk. “That’s what I thought.”

Lucien hums quietly but he doesn’t say anything more. He leans forward enough that he can set his teacup back on the low table. It frees up his other hand, which he uses to brush Elain’s hair over her shoulder and out of the way, exposing where the collar and sleeve of the shirt has slipped. Lucien presses his lips against her shoulder, against the smattering of freckles that have bloomed there from her days spent in the sun tending to her garden, tracing a path of kisses along her skin until he reaches the junction with her neck.

Elain lets out a soft sigh, tilting her head to give him better access. Her pulse flutters beneath his lips when Lucien reaches her pulse point, and she can hear his own heart beating to match the melody. Elain lets her eyes fall close, melting back into his embrace, his warmth. The bond between them shimmers, a welcome weight in her chest.

“Besides,” Elain continues, her voice a quiet murmur. “Who needs clothes when I have a mate to keep me warm.”

“As my lady commands.”

Lucien wraps both his arms properly around Elain’s waist, fingers splayed wide against her. Heat blooms in his hands, radiating across Elain’s skin and settling deep in her bones, chasing away any semblance of cold until the warmth that is only Lucien remains. His hands travel to her arms next, sliding down from her shoulders to her wrists then back up again, each pass of his hands a soothing balm. Their final destination is her thighs, the touch even warmer from skin on skin contact. The shudder that Elain has to suppress has nothing to do with being cold, and if Lucien wasn’t such a firm presence at her back, Elain is confident she’d melt straight through the throw pillows and cushions.

“Better?” Lucien breathes against her ear.

Elain turns her head enough that she can meet his gaze properly. Gold and russet each glinting equally in the afternoon sun spilling through the sheer curtains on the windows. His lips are still a bit red and kiss bitten from their late morning spent in bed, and the left corner of them ticks up in a smirk as if Lucien knows exactly where her mind has wandered to.

Elain can’t say she minds. She’d happily spend the afternoon with a repeat of their morning. Even more so, she’d happily spend her afternoon right here, curled up together on the sofa, basking in Lucien’s warmth. With his smirks and his teasing comments and that smile he gets on his face when he thinks she isn’t looking but she knows is just for her. With the happiness and the love that’s taken root so deep between her ribs, threatening to bloom straight through her chest. With her and her mate and this home they’ve built for the two of them.

“Much better.”

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog​ @lifeisntafantasy​ @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl​ @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld​ @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust​ @a-trifling-matter​ @blueunoias​ @kookskoocie​ @cassiansbigwingspan​ @unlikelypersonalknight1​ @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones

[psychesetra]

til death reunites us

notes: if you've read my past oneshots, which i have. failed to edit. woops. lucien is surnaturel! setra is still setra, dw

tw: suicide, poison, mentions of death, implication of assault if you squint, hallucinations, murder

* • + • *

lucien cannot wait to return to his wife. or rather, maybe her voice never left, and it only beckoned him closer to death.

ever since she's died, he's always heard a whisper in his ear. often, its advice led to his next kill and another body mutilated and buried under a house meant for two.

(he says, thinks -- no, pretends it's meant for two. but when she hasn't been home in two years and her dresses have grown dusty perhaps he was always meant to live alone.)

but he thinks he's finally been pushed to snap, as he stares at his wife's grave.

setra caelia hartifelt.

1908-1931.

she was twenty-three when he'd found her in that god-awful place, once blue eyes turned into some irritating imitation of the color, more gray than blue, dead than alive.

he carries the last batch of sunflowers he will bring to her. he grew them himself.

he lays them down gently, a contrast to how he handles nearly anything else, even the corpses he's buried. it's midnight, though, and no person will see him with his guard down.

somewhere in his subconcious, he remembers when she had first mentioned sunflowers.

"they mean loyalty and adoration," she had murmured. "it would be nice to have those buried with me. it would mean someone had loved me that much."

he loved her that much. he wishes he had loved her more.

he had pleaded for so long that night. begged for her to speak to him, to get up and to ask where she was because she couldn't see without the glasses he couldn't find in the alley. wishes he could've bought her another ring, married her again, because that night he'd found her without anything but herself and blood.

why couldn't he have nice things?

he contemplates this for a reason he doesn't know. after all, he is to die tonight. that in itself is perhaps the only mercy god has granted him in the past two years, that he will reunite with his love in death.

(but he knows. he is going to hell. not to heaven, where she surely resides.)

there is another, stranger, deadlier plant in his other hand.

trumpet-shaped purple flowers and dark berries that will be the last thing he will taste.

belladonna. beautiful lady, he thinks.

he is in no way blaming his death on his wife -- but her own demise is now the reason for his. he cannot survive knowing both the death of his mother and his sweet darling were because he was too late to save them to the cruelty of the world around them.

so it is fitting that he will die to a flower named as what his wife is to him.

he doesn't try and eat it yet, though -- he decides to stay for now. stay at his wife's grave. maybe if he stays long enough, he will feel her embrace one last time, even if her body is six foot below where he stands.

maybe if he stays for long enough he'll feel even a bit of remorse. though, he thinks it can't happen.

lucien had killed twenty-three people as of august 5th, 1933. one disgusting, foul, vile man for every year his wife lived.

he would've killed more, for the years she had lost, but something had settled in him.

some odd feeling that told him it was enough. that it was time to rest alongside the woman he had promised his life to.

so just as he had done nearly every night for the past two years, he visited her grave. stayed for a while, pondered things he thought he would never think of.

he runs a hand through his hair, before taking off his glasses. he can give himself comfort in the fact they will not hurt him when he inevitably falls to the ground as he dies.

again gently, he plucks the berries from the belladonna. one by one, he sets them down on the thin grass besides him. one by one, he swallows each.

soon, his head starts to feel heavy with pain. he's glad he did this at midnight -- his eyes can't seem to handle the moonlight cast across the grave in front of him.

speaking of that, he staggers, losing balance and holding onto said grave -- he feels a little guilty, that he may damage it.

he feels he needs water, his throat feels incredibly dry.

as he predicts, he does eventually fall over, a weak, strangled noise slipping out when he does. he reaches out to where his wife is buried.

he can't even reach the stone marking her name.

he's starting to see things. is that his mother in the trees? has she come to take him to hell? can angels even bring demons to their afterlife?

his head continues pounding, the ache settling in his bones, staying as he finally, finally starts to die.

he hears a faint whisper again. her voice.

with the last of his strength, he murmurs, a strained, tortured smile on his face,

"it seems death will reunite us rather than do us part."

* • + • *

later, when the graveyard's groundkeeper finds his body, his eyes are just as gray as his wife's were on august fifth, 1931.

[munsons-hellfire]

Chaos: Prologue

SUMMARY: Evangeline did the only thing she knew she could. She ran. Upon leaving her home court, she crash lands into the Spring Court, hoping to find a better home.

PAIRINGS: Evangeline Nightbane x Lucien Vanserra (Currently), & Evangeline Nightbane x Cassian (Eventually)

CONTENT WARNING: MFW, mentions of trauma.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello everyone this is the second original character work that I will be writing. When I came up with this idea I only saw it as an original character storyline. Evangeline is somewhat based of a character I made at one point for a Steve Rogers fic that I used to have up on my wattpad account. On top of that this story will follow the first three books, Silver Flames will be a definite AU and will most likely only include Feyre's pregnancy line. Nesta will be mated to Mor in this version. Also I wanted to try writing in first person pov so that story will be in first person and eventually it'll switch back and forth between Evie and Cassian but as of right now it'll be Evie's pov.

WORD COUNT: 3.7K

Chapter 1

The earliest memory I have is of Helion teaching me how to use my wings. I could conjure them through my magic, I didn’t understand how any of it worked, and Helion probably wasn’t the greatest teacher to be teaching me but he was better than my parents. Helion was more of a real father to me than my actual father had been. My mother and father had always told me that I was the first and only child they’d ever conceived, but I never believed them.

I don’t think Helion believed them either. But what could he do, what could I do? There were key reasons that I didn’t believe I was their child. I could conjure wings firstly, I had black hair and purple eyes, they’d often glow brighter when I used my powers. The Mother had gifted me with three separate powers. Two of them I adored more than anything, the other I wish was never gifted to me.

I have the ability to open portals, a fun one really except when I’d open portals to places I probably shouldn’t be even looking at. Next I learned that I can create any type of weapon𑁋shields included𑁋they are created through telekinetic energy that runs through me. And lastly I can read the minds of those around me. I’m not a Daemati, I’m sure it’d be a lot cooler than everyone’s constant thoughts pressing down on my own mind.

Being able to read every single thought as I pass by any Fae is insufferable. As a child it wasn’t so bad. I was focused on other stuff that would block out the incessant thoughts. I also didn’t understand my powers. I still don’t understand how any of them work, really, but I’ve managed to attempt to control two of the three at least for the time being. Being able to read everyone’s thoughts was truly a destructive power.

That’s how I found myself right now. I had heard my father and mother’s conversation, but I also heard their thoughts. They were going to hand me over to Amarantha, the High Queen of Prythian. I never liked the female, my parents spoke so highly of her. I didn’t understand how they were still in Helion’s Court. The only thing I knew that I could do was run, so that’s what I did.

Except I didn’t think it through so clearly. I was falling through the sky, trying to summon my wings. The portal I had opened, well it had decided to drop me from the sky. I was plummeting towards my death. This was how I would die. I, Evangeline Nightbane, would make contact with the ground and die. For a moment it seemed like an ok death, a great way to escape my parents before they’d even have a chance to hand me over to that hag Under the Mountain.

My eyes were closed, I couldn’t force them open if I tried to. I knew I was getting closer to the grassy lands. I knew my time was coming to an end soon enough. A gasp left my mouth, I didn’t feel the impact of the ground. Instead I felt arms tighten around my body. Then his thoughts hit me.

“Such a beautiful female.” He had thought to himself. I didn’t want to be hearing his thoughts, I didn’t want to hear how beautiful he thought I was. How he was thrilled he had caught me in time.

Taking in a breath of air I finally opened my eyes. I turned my head slightly, lifted my eyes and saw the male that had caught me in his arms. He had long red hair, his golden-brown skin really complemented his red hair. And his eyes, oh his eyes were so beautiful. They were covered under a fox mask, one eye is russet, and the other eye is gold. Those beautiful eyes stared back at me.

I had heard what Amarantha had done to the Spring Court, that’s how I knew where I was. His thoughts were weakened just like everyone else's had been, and it had been nice, a little bit peaceful if I’m being honest. But I could still hear all the thoughts. His and the High Lord’s were no different. I pulled myself from his grasp and hopped down on the grass, turning to look at the two males before I gave a bow.

My parents always told me that it was my duty to bow to those who were higher on the social chain than us. They were somewhat high on said chain but I was still taught to act a certain way, especially when we’d visit Beron Vanserra and his family. I didn’t understand why my parents weren’t trapped Under the Mountain like the others had been. Though they were probably conspiring with the High Queen and that’s why they had so much freedom.

I really wouldn’t put it past them, not with the things they’d managed to do to me as a child. I hate them, still do, so I’m happy to be here so long as the High Lord accepts my plea for his protection. I stood from my bow and glanced between the two males. They weren’t that far from their horses that I assumed they’d rode out here.

“Who are you?” The blond male questioned, coming to stand directly in front of me.

“Evangeline Nightbane, my Lord. I apologize, I didn’t mean to open a portal here. I was just trying to escape my parents. They were going to take me to the High Queen, I-I didn’t know what to do so I ran.”

Both males exchanged a glance with each other, their eyes fell back on me as I stood awkwardly in front of them waiting for them to either take me in or turn me away. I’m sure they were staring at my appearance. My black hair was a mess, dirt surly covered my face, and probably my neck, chest, and arms. I was wearing a gold dress that had been ripped at the bottom.

The dress I’d been wearing still hugged my body perfectly even if it was torn. I’m sure they could tell that I had come from the Day Court. Though it was lonely in that Court with everyone being trapped Under the Mountain. I was curious if they knew about who I was. I know that rumors had spread around Prythian about someone with my abilities existing. My parents had confirmed it to Amarantha, and she wanted to take my powers from me, she wanted to kill me for them. I knew it deep in my bones.

“Please, can I seek refuge here just until I figure out how to disappear for good.” I asked, hope, I’m sure was evident in my eyes.

“Such pretty eyes.” His thoughts had run into me again. Unknowingly I glared at the red head male.

“Of course you can stay, Evangeline.” The High Lord had finally spoken, his words were soft but stern. He held his hand out to me. I looked down at his hand hesitant to shake it, then I glanced up at his green eyes beneath the gold mask that covered his face. It was odd to see masks over their faces.

“Thank you…” I paused, realizing that I didn’t even know what to call him. I didn’t really know much about the other High Lord's my parents had neglected to inform me about. So really Helion and Beron Vanserra were the only ones I truly knew about. I didn’t even want to know the High Lord of Autumn.

He would make my life a living hell. I had heard that he had already been discussing marriage to one of his sons, Eris, I think. But then I guess Amarantha offered my parents something better. Or maybe she’d steal my powers and hand me over to the Autumn Court. Either way I knew I had to leave.

“Tamlin,” He said, green eyes still staring at me. “This is my emissary Lucien Vanserra.” I had shook Tamlin’s hand but hesitated with the red head male now known as Lucien, and a Vanserra at that.

“Vanserra?” I choked out, terrified of what he might do.

I think they could see the look evident on my face because Tamlin was the first to take action. “He won’t hurt you.” His voice was soft as he spoke to me.

I watched the two males turn and walk back towards their horses. They were speaking with each other but I wasn’t bothered enough to listen to their discussion. I watched them climb onto their horses, releasing a sigh, I followed behind them. I think once I was settled into the Spring Court I’d need to come out and explore. It was such a beautiful place and I didn’t want to be held up somewhere I didn’t know much about.

I walked up to the males, Lucien was holding his hand out for me to take. I was hesitating, trying to decide if it would be better to ride with Lucien or just walk. Tamlin was wondering why I wasn’t taking his friend’s hand and getting on the horse. Meanwhile Lucien was wondering what had happened to me for me to be this hesitant to accept his hand. In truth his father was Beron, and he was an asshole and despite what Tamlin had said I didn’t know if he could be trusted.

I tried to ignore their thoughts the best I could. Then I walked away from Lucien, ignoring him as I walked over to Tamlin. The High Lord held his hand out to me, I grasped a hold of his hand and climbed up onto the horse. I caught Tamlin glancing at Lucien, I took a chance and glanced at the other male to see a flustered look on his face as he stared at me. His thoughts were slightly louder than they had been. It was starting to give me a headache.

“I can hear your thoughts by the way.” I said, as the two steads took off through the grassy fields. “Not as loud as they used to be, but still.” I mumbled that last part hoping neither male had heard me but I wasn’t so sure. I had my hands wrapped around Tamlin’s waist and my head rested on his back. I was exhausted to say the least. I’d been running for at least a day and a half and this was the first time I could actually catch a breather.

Somewhere on the journey back I knew I had fallen asleep. I was uninterested in opening my eyes to see why we’d stopped moving. But then I felt someone wrap their arms around me and carry me. The arms were familiar, I knew I was in Lucien’s arms. His chest was so firm, and for some reason I wanted to see more of him. I felt a soft bed underneath my back, so I finally opened my eyes.

I turned slightly to look at Lucien who had been staring down at me. He had a soft look in his eyes as he gazed over me. His thoughts were all over the place, I didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Though some part of me felt that it was in fact because of me. I swear at some point I’d seen lust in his russet eye. But I chose to ignore it.

“You’ll be safe here. We’ll make sure that Amarantha doesn’t find you.” He whispered. I couldn’t help the smile that tugged on my lips.

“Thank you.” I sighed contentedly while Lucien started to back away from the bed he’d placed me on. His eyes were still on me though.

“Dinner will be in a few hours. Tamlin expects you to join us.”

“Will you be the one to get me?” I asked, a devious smirk replacing the smile on my lips as I stared at the male before me. It’s funny that Lucien was thinking of my beauty when he held me in his arms while Tamlin had been concerned about where I’d come from. I knew then and there that I’d be able to have some fun with the male, and I’m sure he’d enjoy it just as much.

“If it’s what you desire, then yes, I’ll be back here in a few hours to bring you to dinner.”

“Wonderful.” I sent a nod his way, then turned on my side and closed my eyes waiting for him to leave my newly appointed room. I figured it would be good to get some more sleep. As I drifted off to sleep I started to hope that maybe this could be my home for good.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

I’m awake now, I think I only got an hour of sleep. Something rustled outside the window which prompted me to wake. I think I’ve been standing by the window looking out of it for some time now. When I heard the noise my first thought was that my parents had found me and that they were coming to take me home. I couldn’t shake the feeling that was settling in the pit of my stomach. So I backed away from the window and closed it hoping no one could see into it.

I needed to move the bed away from the window, it was too close for my liking. If my parents were truly here they could break into the window and take me away. I pulled a piece of rope from my pocket that was on my dress. I still had yet to change out of it. With the string I pulled my hair back and proceeded to tie it so it was out of my way while I moved the bed to the other side of the room.

I didn’t know how much time had passed, suddenly the door was open and Lucien was standing in the open door way. “What are you doing, Evangeline?” The way he had said my name had sparked something inside me.

“I’m just moving my bed.” I put my focus back on the bed and continued to move it to the other side of the room. I could tell that Lucien was curious. He didn’t need to think it for me to see it evident on his face when I briefly looked at him.

“Why exactly are you moving the bed?” He was so serious as he had asked the question.

I sighed, pulled away from the bed and glared at the male. I understand that he wanted to know but I wasn’t so sure I could trust him yet. He was a Vanserra after all. Maybe I could tell him about this feeling I had.

“I heard a noise outside my window. I was afraid that it was my parents.” The fear was evident in my voice. This had caught Lucien’s attention. I now wished I had just kept my mouth shut. I was good at that, keeping quiet and listening to everything.

“I’m sure it was just an animal.” Of course he would think that. And maybe he was right, maybe my mind was playing tricks on me but I wasn’t taking a chance.

“Why are you here anyway?” I asked, shifting the conversation to something else. I needed to move on from the topic. Thinking about the possibility of my parents finding me was starting to bring the headache back.

“Dinner is ready. I would advise you to change into something clean as well as clean up your appearance.”

I held my hand down by my side, attempting to control the telekinetic energy buzzing around inside me.

“Fantastic.” I paused, taking in a deep breath before exhaling it. “If you’ll be so kind as to wait outside so I can get changed that would be much appreciated, Lucien.”

The male released a small growl, I only smirked and walked over to the armoire. It was closest to the door. I could move it in front of the door but then my chances of escape would be slim. So I’d keep it where it stood. Opening the door I saw different shades of dresses. I settled on one that was a light green, pink flowers rested at the top of the dress.

So far I had only ever worn Day Court colors, I was looking forward to being able to wear Spring Court colors. Walking over to the sink I turned the water on and started to wash my skin off so I looked more presentable. Lucien had a point, and I needed to look my best if I truly wanted to stay here. I pulled my black locks back and separated my hair in half to braid it. Finally I changed into the dress I had picked out.

I took a final look in the mirror and for the first time in a really long time I believed that I could be happy here. Walking back out to the bedroom I see the door is now closed. I could hear his thoughts, and again he was so curious about who I was. My hand found the door handle and I pulled it open. Lucien turned, smirked, and led me down the hallway towards the dining area.

The High Lord was already seated at the head of the table. Lucien walked over to a chair and pulled it out for me. I thanked him as I sat in the chair. Lucien walked around and sat down across from me. I glanced down at the food, I knew I should eat the meat, and veggies but for the life of me I didn’t know if I had an appetite to hold anything down.

“Evangeline.” Tamlin was the first to speak since the dinner had started. His green eyes were plastered on me. I reached for the wine that was sitting next to my food. After taking a gulp of the wine I pulled it away from my lips and stared back at the High Lord.

“Please, call me Evie.” Tamlin gave a nod of his head, his blond locks following his movement. I looked to Lucien who also sent me a nod.

“Evie.” Tamlin corrected himself before continuing. “You fell from a portal. How is that possible?”

“Portals… Yeah. That’s one of my abilities.” I started to swirl the wine around afraid of where this conversation would go. Lucien definitely was uncomfortable with the direction the question was heading.

“One of them?” He proceeded to ask.

“Yes, one of them.” I could tell that he wanted to know more about what I could do. Maybe he thought that I’d be useful to him in the future. Maybe he’d turn around and use me against Amarantha. I held my breath hoping he’d move on to ask me something else.

“You said you were running from your parents, why?” This question was a lot harsher than I had thought it would be.

I closed my hand and pushed my nails into the skin of my palm. This male whom I’d met only a few hours ago was already trying to learn everything about me. This is not what I had in mind when I had asked for refuge. I could feel the tears threatening to fall down my face.

“They hurt me in ways parents should never do. If I’d stayed any longer with them they would’ve given me over to Amarantha who would’ve killed me for my powers. Or they likely would’ve accepted Beron’s proposal to have me marry his eldest son Eris. Neither of those options worked for me. So I did the only thing I knew I could do, I ran. That is why I am here, High Lord.”

I slammed my hands on the table and stood up pushing the chair back. Before either male could object I stormed out of the room heading back to my room. The door slammed behind me and I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about any of this, eventually the longer I’m here Tamlin and Lucien will start to ask more questions.

I’m not ready to talk about what my parents did to me. I don’t want to talk about what they would’ve done had I still been there. I just want to move on from it. Wiping the tears that had managed to fly down my face I pull back from the mirror and walk out of my room. Then I moved down the hallway. However I came to a quick stop when I heard another voice. Without thinking I took a step into the room.

There was a male in the room with his back to me. He had short black hair. It was the same color as mine. All my life I hadn’t seen anyone else with black hair like his. He stood tall as he talked to Tamlin who seemed to have an annoyed look on his face. His thoughts confirmed that he was annoyed with the male. Lucien seemed as though he didn’t want to be here. But he was the first to notice my appearance.

He stands up quickly, his eyes on me as he walks over to me. His hand reaches for my elbow and he stands in front of me. The other male turns around, he has violet eyes. Almost the same shade as mine, only darker.

“Who are you hiding, Lucien?” He questioned. I wanted to know who he was just as much as he wanted to know who I was. His thoughts were quieter than Lucien and Tamlin’s. But I knew he could sense something. His thoughts were giving him away. I moved past Lucien to get a better look at the male, it happened so quickly.

We all watched as he gasped suddenly. His face had gone pale, like he’d seen a ghost from his past. Then he was gone. He just disappeared. Now I was even more confused than before.

“Who was that?” I asked, stepping towards Tamlin.

“That was Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court.”

[redbleedingrose]

OH! okay so pov eris watching you interact with marwa and twila and hes just completely lovesick and in awe of his mate and his little girls that he doesnt know what to do or how to function- so much so that lucien starts teasing him and giving him a bunch of shit for it 🤩

Omg 😫😫😫 we all know Eris is such a fucking simp for you, I genuinely think he would burn down the world for you if you asked!!!

He didn’t know he could love you more than he already did. It seemed impossible to him. Because you consume every part of him. Every part of his body, heart, and soul belongs to you. It has for a very long time, and he didn’t think that his feelings towards you could ever change. 

You becoming the mother to his babes... it brought a new universe of love, adoration, passion, and desire that Eris was not aware of even existing. His adoration for you... it never lacked in any way before you had your little girls... but mother above, did it ascend to new heights watching your belly swell with his babes. 

And watching you interact with his little girls??? 

It was like you had placed every star in the sky with your own fingertips, like you had painted each colorful leaf that hung on the trees in the forest outside your home, like you had replaced the sun as the center of his universe. 

And you had. To him at least. 

So, as his amber eyes cherish the sight before him of his wife, beloved, and mate sitting in the green grass beneath the willow tree with Twila and Marwa, cuddling them into your chest as the chilly breeze brushes across them, listening intently, nodding along to Twila’s ramblings and Marwa’s little additions to whatever adventures the babes had today, he cannot help but thank the gods he has been blessed with you as a mate.  

Never did he expect love to be in his future. He always thought that the end to his story would be at the hands of his father. He didn’t think he would become high lord. He didn’t think he would ever have a family, let alone find love or happiness like this. 

Love so pure, so fulfilling, so genuine, so deep, so vital. 

But here he is... watching out his office window, looking in on his mate and two little girls love so freely, so happily, safe from the horrors of his father.

It was nearly paralyzing. 

The love he had for you. He didn’t know how to function without it, how to function without you. Every decision, every choice he made, even as high lord... it always came back to you, back to his babes. If the new law would make it a better place, a better court, a better world, for his females he loved so. 

So here Eris sat, in his office, not getting a single thing done watching you and his babes. He had set off in the morning after breakfast with you and his babes, after making you and the girls promise to have the best day without him, citing he had some work to get done and he would find you as soon as he finished. 

He was mesmerized watching you with his babes. In utter awe, admiration, and wonderment. 

It still shocked him you had chosen to stay with him, chosen to be with him, chosen to love him, chosen to have his babes. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve such an enchanting, loving mate and wife. 

The part of him that had been motivated to work this morning had unsurprisingly disappeared once he caught sight of you and the babes outside. He ached to join you, to hear what his little Twila was rambling about, to pull Marwa into his lap and kiss her ruddy, chubby cheeks, to feel the unbriddeld joy you would send down your bond when you felt him approaching, to- 

“Gods, you are fucking whipped.”

Eris’ gaze twisted to his youngest brother, who had made his way into his office, silent as a fox, settling himself onto one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. Lucien stared back at the high lord, eyebrows raised high and a smug grin lilting his face, glowing under the rays of sunlight that soaked into the room. 

The lordling’s shock turned to annoyance. He hadn’t even noticed Lucien until he interrupted his musings, and now he was irked his youngest brother had the audacity to pull his gaze away from his mate and babes. He scoffed, “What do you want?” as he finally pushed away from the desk, giving up on work for the day, to stand by the window with unimpeded views of his favorite girls, clearly uninterested in whatever his brother had to say. 

Luc snorted, leaving his own seat to join his eldest brother, peering out the window and smiling softly at the sight of his favorite sister in law and nieces. “I have been sitting here for ten minutes, trying to get your attention. But you were too entranced by your mate, too busy worshiping the ground she walks on, to notice,” his voice filled with mirth. His warm hand lifted, clasping Eris by the shoulder and squeezing tightly, “I’m happy for you brother.” 

Eris huffed at his brothers sudden affection, nonetheless returning a smirk of his own, “Me too,” lifting his own arm to bring Lucien into a quick embrace, “I mean have you seen my mate, she is the embodiment of-” 

“Gods, here we go...” Lucien groaned, pushing Eris away, a large smile threatening to break across his face, as the high lord continued into his long-winded praise and adoration for his wife that the youngest brother has heard not once, not twice, but a million times. 

Mother above, he would hear it a million more times if it meant Eris was this happy for the rest of his life, Lucien thinks. His eldest brother deserves nothing less. 

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AHHHHHH I CAN’T!!!!! GIRL DAD!ERIS IS SO HAPPY IT MAKES ME WANNA CRYYYYY!!!!!