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clockwork-ashes · 21 days ago

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All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXXII

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: An update!!! Thank you to everyone still following along <3 A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds / @lady-of-tearshed / @what-about-elvenis / @gameafoot /

Elain was warm, wrapped in the gentle embrace of the morning light that streamed through the windows. She kept her eyes shut, remained entirely still, but could not help the smallest of smiles from tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

Lucien’s hand was on her back, tracing delicate patterns along her skin like it was a canvas, his touch light and careful. Every brush of his fingers felt like an unspoken promise, a reminder that he was there should she need him.

She hummed, a soft melody of contentment, as if her very act of breathing was tied to his presence. The scent of rich vanilla lingered, inviting. Lucien’s fingers danced along her spine with a tenderness that made her chest tight, a sensation so familiar, so comforting, that it made her feel safe in a way nothing else could.

Elain savoured the intimacy of the moment, the quiet peace, the feeling of his warmth against her. She turned slowly, tilting her chin up so she could look at him. Lucien’s russet eye was filled with affection, his steady gaze stripping her bare. His hand slipped effortlessly through her hair, fingers threading through the curls as he tucked a strand behind her pointed ear.

“Good morning,” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep, slipping between them like a secret. She smiled, and without a thought, closed the distance separating them. Leaning in slowly, Elain’s lips brushed against her mate’s, gentle as the rays of a summer sun dusting the horizon.

Elain felt Lucien smile, her teeth grazing the scar that cut through his full bottom lip. He pulled her so that she was laying on top of him, her hand coming to rest on his chest, her nails leaving marks on his skin. Lucien kissed her in a way that made her feel like the most precious thing in the world, unhurried.

Elain shifted, the sheets around them both rustling with the movement. Lucien cupped her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw with the kind of reverence that made her pulse quicken. It was as though he were committing every detail of her to memory. She did the same, the fingers of her one hand tugging at the soft strands of his silken hair, pulling him into the kiss, always closer.

The initial softness gave way to something more urgent as the kiss deepened, became more consuming. His lips brushed against hers with a fire that spoke of longing, reminding Elain of a time when there was only a quiet yearning between them. Her fingers tightened against his chest, feeling the steady, insistent rhythm of his heartbeat. She could hear it clearly, felt it along the unbreakable thread that kept them tethered to one another.

Lucien’s hand snaked along her waist, earning a gasp. His tongue brushed against hers with slow deliberation, a tantalising glide that made her shift against him in search of friction. The taste of him was intoxicating, making her forget about everything else.

A soft, breathy moan escaped her lips, a sound of satisfaction and surrender, as the kiss stretched on, time bending around them. Every touch, every breath, had her wanting more, as if it were simply instinct to want someone so wholeheartedly.

When Lucien finally pulled back, it was deliberate, his golden eye whirring. The russet one was dark with desire, gaze still locked on hers. His lips curved into a fleeting smile, one that made her heart flutter even as they both paused for breath, their chests rising and falling in tandem.

“I have something for you,” Lucien murmured, his voice low and velvety, almost teasing, though there was something darker beneath it. There was a flicker of something else in his familiar features, something unreadable that made Elain’s heart skip in a way that felt both thrilling and unsettling.

Elain, still flushed from their kiss, smiled softly, though the expression felt thin, fragile in the face of the growing tension between them. “What is it?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly, curiosity battling with an instinctive unease. Part of her still clung to the warmth of their closeness, but another part felt an odd shiver crawling up her spine, a warning.

Lucien reached behind him, grabbing something from the bedside table, the muscles of his shoulders tense despite the simple gesture. When he retrieved the object, Elain’s attention snapped to it with an almost magnetic force. A small, square box lay in his broad hand.

Her heart lurched in her chest, the sensation so sudden it took her breath away. The box shimmered in the morning light, catching the faint glow of the sun like it was somehow alive. The box seemed to pulse with an energy that made the very space between them vibrate, as though it were waiting for her to reach out and touch it.

It was jet black, smooth and polished, its surface glossy and cold. No seams, no edges, just a perfect, flawless square, like a piece of obsidian carved by an unseen hand. At the centre, a small lock caught her attention. Silver, intricate, delicate. It was shaped like a twisting vine, its tendrils curling in on themselves with a fluid, serpentine grace.

The lock itself seemed to shimmer in and out of focus, almost as if it were breathing, its presence humming with a strange and disquieting energy. It beckoned her, silently, and Elain felt her body tense in response.

Her breath caught in her throat. She could not look away. A cold, gnawing sensation curled in her stomach, unsettling, familiar. It was a feeling she was unable to place, something ancient and forbidden, and it gnawed at her insides like a hunger she could not satisfy.

The temptation to touch it, to open it, was overwhelming, a whisper in the back of her mind. It was as if the box had a will of its own, and that will was beginning to seep into her thoughts.

Lucien must have noticed her silence because he shifted, his brow furrowing in concern. “Elain?” His voice was soft now, laced with worry, but there was something in his gaze distinctly unfamiliar, deepening the unease blooming in her chest. “What’s wrong?”

She did not answer immediately. The pull of the box was too strong, its presence consuming her thoughts, drowning out the sound of his voice. Her fingers twitched, itching to touch it. And then, without thinking, she reached out, tentative, her hand drawn forward by an invisible string.

Her fingertips brushed the side of the box, and the moment her skin made contact, a shock of ice shot up her arm, stabbing through her veins suddenly. The cold was unnatural, sharp and biting, as though the warmth of her own body was being ripped from her. She felt it crawling up her wrist, over her shoulder, sinking into her chest like a cold hand clutching her heart.

Elain flinched, her breath catching in her throat, but the pull of the box only intensified, growing stronger with each passing second, until she felt as though she were drowning in it.

“Lucien…” she whispered, her voice trembling, barely audible, nearly foreign to her own ears. A tremor ran through her body, her fingers still aching to touch the box, the need gnawing at her. Something was wrong, so very wrong, but the box was all she could think about now, its hum like a lullaby in her mind.

The room began to distort, as if the fabric of reality was unraveling. Her surroundings blurred into a thick, oppressive darkness, stretching around her like a vast, unending ocean. The comforting weight of Lucien’s presence seemed to slip away from her, the sound of his heartbeat fading into silence.

I can hear your heart through the stone.

Elain reached for Lucien immediately, but he was already too far, slipping from her grasp like sand through her fingers. The warmth of his touch, the safety of his embrace, dissolving.

The box loomed larger now, its edges sharp as a blade, its pull undeniable. The world around her shattered like glass.

A sudden splash of cold water hit Elain’s face, yanking her from the depths of the dream. She gasped, her body jerking upright, heart hammering in her chest as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Vassa was hovering over her, face tight with concern, and Lethe stood just a bit further away, the sleeves of her dress damp and a satisfied glint in her dark eyes. Elain's heart still raced, her body trembling from the phantom chill of the onyx box, the coldness of it that lingered on her skin like a curse. The dream had been entirely too real for her liking and it was decidedly not one of her own visions.

“What happened?” Elain managed to ask, her voice breathless, dazed. A gentle wind blew, howling softly as it weaved between the forest’s trees. Her curls were wet, hanging limply around her shoulders.

Lethe’s eyes narrowed, looking at Elain as if she were a puzzle meant to solve. “Are these episodes rather normal in the Night Court?”

Elain glanced at her, lifting her chin stubbornly. She sniffed, “I’m not sure what you mean.” Perhaps it was childlike, but there was a part of Elain that was secretly very pleased that Eris had stayed true to his word and had not mentioned her visions to his friend.

Vassa shot Lethe a sharp look, though there was no real venom in the interaction. “I told her to stop throwing water at you,” she said to Elain with an apologetic shrug.

“It woke her up, didn’t it?” The other female snapped, crossing her arms. In a fluid motion, she sat on the cold ground in front of Elain, her skirts a perfect cloud.

Elain wrinkled her nose, an ice cold drop of water making a frozen path along her jaw. She swiped it away with her palm, frustration building up inside her. “This was not a normal dream,” she emphasised, looking at Vassa who would know the underlying meaning of her words.

Lethe snorted, but any harsh remark was cut off by the human queen as she spoke quickly and with purpose.

“All the women here have dreams like that,” her blue eyes were dark as the night sky as she ran a hand through her hair, tugging on a strand for the briefest of moments. Her strong voice dropped to a whisper that only a fae ear could catch without trouble. “Some of them say that sleep belongs to Death’s domain.”

Elain rubbed her temples, trying to bring herself back to the present, but the sensation of the onyx box and the crushing urge to open it lingered.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Lethe muttered in response to Vassa’s comment, a nervous edge to her tone.

Before Elain could retort, the silence around them was shattered by a voice, smooth and chilling, that slithered from the shadows. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

The words froze the air in the open space, their coldness crawling along Elain’s skin. Her blood ran icy, her heart skipping a beat as she turned slowly, every nerve on edge, to face the forest behind her.

Elain saw him then—emerging from the darkness.

Koschei.

He stood tall, pale skin drawn tight over his bones like something long forgotten and lifeless. His hair was dark, unruly and soft. The curls clung to his shoulders, just a shade darker than the black cloak he wore. His teeth were too sharp, his smile was too wide, too knowing, as if the world itself were a game to him, everything insignificant. It was Koschei’s eyes that truly froze her blood. No whites, only endless blackness, swallowing everything in its path.

Koschei did not move, not at first. He simply studied them with the cold gaze of a predator who had already decided his prey’s fate. When it became clear to him that none of them were about to move, he tilted his head like a lion.

“Comfortable?” Koschei purred, his voice dripping with mockery, but with an edge that was anything but kind. “I trust you find your accommodations... satisfactory?”

Elain stiffened, every muscle in her body tensing, her breath catching in her throat as she fought to maintain control. She could not look away from, could not spare the two women around her a glance.

Elain could feel Vassa inching backwards, coming closer with steps so small they were nearly imperceptible. She could even sense Lethe’s gaze flicking toward the shadows, although she did not appear as shaken as she perhaps felt.

Koschei’s smile stretched even wider, as if he could feel the fear rippling through the room, feeding on it. Slowly, he stepped forward, his movements unnervingly quiet, his feet making no sound as he walked on dried grass and broken twigs. He moved like a shadow, like something that shouldn’t have been there but was.

“I trust you’re well aware that no one knows where you are,” Koschei continued, his voice softening, as if savouring their discomfort.

Elain felt her throat tighten. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words stuck in her chest, lodged there by the weight of his presence.

Koschei turned his attention, facing her entirely with a knowing glint in his eyes. “Tell me, Elain Archeron," he said, his voice low and sweet, like poison in a fine wine. "Do you feel it? That enticing little pull?”

His words were a whisper, but they carried like a scream, wrapping themselves around her mind, twisting it. Elain clenched her fists, fighting the way her entire being ached to bring herself closer to him, to answer his twisted invitation.

Lethe grabbed her arm, sharp nails digging into skin until she drew blood. It was the only thing keeping Elain in place. Vassa breathed in, the sound thunderous.

Koschei turned his head, the only indication that he had moved his attention to the other woman, his smile never wavering. “You know she can’t resist, Queen of Scythia.”

The air shifted again, colder now, charged with something unspoken, something terrible. Koschei’s presence was suffocating, all-consuming. Elain could feel it closing in on her, pushing at the space between her shoulder blades, making it harder to breathe.

“You have no idea what you’ve awoken,” Koschei murmured, his voice carrying a dark promise. “And once the game begins, there’s no escaping it.” He took another step forward, and the shadows seemed to cling to him, moving with him as though they were alive. It reminded her of Azriel, of Velaris, and it instantly made her sick to her stomach.

“You are an intriguing little group,” Koschei continued, his voice smooth, almost pleasant, as though he were indulging them. “The mortal turned high fae, the cursed human queen, and the disgraced Autumn noble. Quite the unlikely assembly, don’t you think? I wonder…” He let the sentence linger in the air like a promise, his eyes glinting with a dark amusement. “Would it be easy to have you all turn on each other in this wretched place?”

Elain’s heart hammered in her chest, his presence bearing down on her, but she forced herself to speak. Her voice was steady, though there was a tremor in it she could not suppress. “What do you want?”

Koschei’s smile curled, slow and amused, his dark eyes never leaving hers as he moved closer. The air around him seemed to chill with every step, like frost creeping along her skin. “What I want,” he purred, his voice rich, velvety, “is something only someone like you—someone not of this world—can obtain.”

Elain’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding her thoughts as she tried to make sense of his cryptic words. “I am of this world,” she said firmly, though even as the words left her mouth, they felt weak, uncertain. An unsettling chill twisted in her stomach.

Koschei’s grin only deepened, a flash of too-white teeth in the dim light. “No, you are not,” he murmured, almost as if to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. His voice carried a teasing, dangerous edge, like he was enjoying some secret she was not yet privy to. “Not truly. You carry something inside you… something that does not belong here.”

His gaze flicked to the shadows around them, and a terrible certainty settled in her gut, like she was standing on the edge of something vast, something dark, and she was about to fall. Koschei turned back to her, his eyes bottomless pits, as if he could see all the way into her soul and she to his.

Her mind scrambled to understand. “What do you mean? I’m not—”

Koschei’s hand moved dismissively through the air, cutting off her words with a casual flick, as if brushing aside a speck of dust. “You may believe you are,” he said, his voice thick with mocking pity, “but you are not.” His smile was sharper now, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a cat toying with its prey.

The room felt colder, heavier, as if his words themselves had frozen the air. Elain’s heart thudded painfully, a frantic beat that seemed to echo in the silence.

Koschei stood still for a long moment, his presence an oppressive force in the room. He turned his head slowly, making it clear that he was turning his gaze from Elain to Vassa, to Lethe, as if considering them.

The silence stretched, suffocating, before he spoke again, his voice low and ominous, a whisper of something dreaded. “I’ll give you time to think on it.” He took a step closer, his form casting a long shadow that seemed to reach out toward them. “Don’t take too long. I’ll return at dawn.” Lethe sneered at his attention, but the unspoken threat between them was as clear as daylight.

A chill settled in Elain’s bones. Her stomach twisted into tight knots, and despite the words she wanted to speak, her throat was dry, her body still.

Koschei lingered for a moment longer, and without another word, he turned, his movements fluid and soundless, as if the very shadows were swallowing him whole.

As he disappeared into the darkness, Elain exhaled shakily. She knew it was as clear to Vassa and Lethe as it was to her, there was no escape.

Elain had no choice but to face whatever game Koschei had set in motion.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #vassa acotar #koschei acotar #eris vanserra #ashes writes sometimes #all you have is your fire

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dawneternal · 9 months ago

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The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | Four

☁︎ notes: these dummies are so smitten

☁︎ warnings: usual talk of injuries and Beron's abuse. Injured animal (he's okay though)

☁︎ word count: 2.2k

☁︎ AO3 Link / Masterlist

☁︎ tags: @cauldronblssd @teddyhoneybear @imma-too-many-fandoms @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove @landofpetrichor

The next summon interrupted Aya’s day off. Her promised day of nothingness; no lessons, no jobs, no meetings, and no Court dinners. She planned to curl up in a corner of the green house and read, surrounded by the scent of healing herbs and flowers. Until that infernal ring began to glow once more. She could not ignore it, but she could grumble to herself all she wanted about how talented the Heir of Autumn was at collecting near-death experiences.

She was still silently complaining while she winnowed, while the world righted itself, and while Edana’s garden appeared before her eyes. What finally stopped the chain of complaints was the sight of Eris standing before her.

Hands in his pockets, head tilted to the side, he smiled as her gaze met his. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, eyes bright and unclouded by pain or alcohol. The sunlight gilded his copper hair and kissed every freckle.

Aya found herself unable to remember what she had been thinking about. No memory of her difficult weeks, her reluctance to return to this land of cunning and deception. She was lost in his smile. Something in it made her feel like she knew everything and nothing all at once.

Eris watched her eyes flick over his form, still struggling to focus after winnowing, and he took the time to study her in turn. Her height surprised him, the top of her head barely level with his shoulder. She had lovely curves, hugged by flowy, pastel fabrics as per the Dawn Court fashion. Her ears were lined with piercings, a gold ring with a gem dangling from her septum. Her wings were a soft glimmering gold dappled with darker brown, feathers rustling in the light breeze. She kept them tucked in tight to her body. And her eyes-

He thought of the sun rising, the blue fading into the orange and leaving that strange greyed-out tone in between. Somewhere in that softly painted sky was the color of her eyes. A brilliant silver, not quite blue, hints of orange. Purple in some lights. Somehow conveying all the loveliness of a misty dawn. Perhaps he had not appreciated the sunrise as much as he should in his five hundred and something years alive.

In short, they spent entirely too long staring at each other.

“At last, I meet my savior,” Eris broke the silence.

“I’d hardly call myself a savior,” Aya said, clutching her bag a little tighter. Her voice was as soft and melodic as he remembered from his dream.

“You deserve countless thanks, nonetheless,” He smiled, and Aya admired the way his freckles moved and dipped to make way for his dimples.

The crisp air combined with her thin clothes pulled a shiver from her. She had begun to wonder if he had called her there just to thank her when he swept an arm toward the door to Edana’s rooms.

“One of my hounds is injured,” He said, his expression slipping into something more solemn, “I’m sure you’ll be glad to know it’s nothing serious. If you’ll follow me.”

In the daylight, she could see more details of Edana’s rooms. The trim, doorways, and furniture were cut from the same dark wood as the rest of the Forest House, but the Lady had her walls painted light colors. Her decorations ventured outside of the familiar autumn color palette, a few daring shades of blue scattered throughout.

Aya also noticed for the first time that the door to the stone hallway was different from the rest. Aside from being situated in a strange place, it was older, warped and scratched. It had been left slightly ajar, and she could see from its faint purple glow that it was enchanted. When the door was shut, it would disappear from the wall entirely.

She followed him through the doorway, watching the fae-lights in the dim hall illuminate his muscled shoulders and well tailored shirt. As the ever present silence of the stone hallway wrapped around them, it finally hit her that they were alone.

“This is a private passage?” She asked softly, “There’s never anyone here.”

“Yes,” He answered, his voice strangely tense, “It’s an old passageway either unknown or forgotten by my father.”

He did not elaborate and she did not pry any further. It bothered Eris that she had been here twice before and he had not been conscious of it. He had no idea what she had seen and heard and learned. Things he should have been there to shield her from, no doubt.

When she stepped through the doorway, Aya shivered, her wings ruffling. Eris’s brows knit together. He had never seen anyone react to wards that way before. He watched as she scanned the room and locked in on the hound laying on his bed, needing no instruction. When she approached, she offered him the back of her fist to sniff, and he seemed to have no qualms with her coming closer. She soothed him before moving to his wound, smoothing down his dark fur and massaging his ears, all the while murmuring kind words and praise.

Eris almost smiled, wondering if she understood how ferocious that beast could be. He had seen the same dog with eyes hollow and hungry, blood dripping from his jaw. Not many would go near him. On his feet, he probably stood almost to her shoulder. And here she was, turning him to putty with her pets and kind words. His tail wagged as she spoke to him and he didn’t protest when she finally began to clean and dress his wound.

“What happened?” Aya asked, eyes remaining focused on the work before her. He admired the dance of her hands, swift and coordinated.

“He tumbled near the river bank, silly beast,” Eris answered.

Aya noted the affection in his voice and the embroidered collar around the dog’s neck. A thought also prickled at the back of her mind that Eris was not telling her the real story. Why have her come all of this way if the cause was not something that Beron must not know? But it did not matter, because she wasn’t supposed to sleuth.

“He has a name, doesn’t he?” She said instead, smiling.

“Juno,” Eris admitted, a bit sheepishly. Embarrassment crept up the back of his neck, the feeling of being caught at something he tried to hide. Her smile was too knowing, she definitely recognized it as another figure from mythology.

“I wish I could give you something to thank you properly,” He continued.

“Well you did interrupt my day off,” She flashed a sly smirk, eyes still on her hands.

“Oh, did I?” His eyebrows raised, lips twitching up into a smile. Something sparked in his veins at her playful tone. “I suppose I’ll have to figure out something special then.”

“If you think that’s fair,” She let out an exaggerated sigh, eyes glittering.

Eris was distracted by a golden glimmer, catching the light as she worked. It was the ring on her forefinger, a simple gold band that fit snug against her skin. His stomach dropped.

“My mother bound you?” He whispered, and from his tone she could practically see the embers burning in his throat.. Aya paused and looked up at him, the color draining from his face.

“Yes,” Her brows furrowed. She thought he would have known that. “Her contract seemed fair. I asked for a written copy.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw and he said in that same quiet fury, “Will you please send me a copy?”

“Of course,” Aya said, gaze still stuck on his as she searched his face for answers. It was almost too long before she turned back to the hound, who had begun to whine for her attention. The silence in the room had begun to squeeze.

“I understand that this situation is…delicate,” She continued after a moment, swallowing hard. It was always too quiet here, sounds of arguing and pain the only things to interrupt it. It was unnerving, like balancing a glass ball on each shoulder.

“I wish she would not have dragged you into it,” He whispered through his teeth. He stood with his arms crossed, looking a little taller than before. This was closer to the image of the Heir she had heard stories about. Though he was certainly less intimidating since she had seen him drunk and smitten with a fictional angel.

“I can handle it,” Aya said, giving Juno one last pat before rearranging the supplies in her worn leather satchel.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

She faced him, bag in hand, tilting her head back to look at him fully. Eris drew in a deep breath, trying not to stare at the reflection of the light on her long glossy curls, in her misty eyes.

“Thesan gave me a talisman,” She pulled up one sleeve to reveal a tattoo on her bicep. A stylized, swirling cloud. “It will give me protection against magic if your father tried to use any against me.”

The sight of it did strange things to Eris’s heart. He felt the relief of her protection. She was not another liability, another piece on his chessboard that he must keep under his watch at all times. But there was another feeling there, too. Like he resented this thing that separated her from him. That ugly desire to control and protect everything he felt a fondness for reared its head. She belonged to the Dawn Court. She was Thesan’s creature. She may be Eris’s healer, bound to his mother by that horrible ring, but she was not his. She was not loyal to him. Unless she chose to be. And nobody ever chose Eris of their own accord.

“Good,” Eris said, in another tone that Aya couldn’t read.

“Oh,” She said, in an attempt to avoid another awkward lull, fishing a corked bottle of green tablets and holding it out to him. “Juno can have these for the pain. They’re mostly herbs so they’re very safe for him.”

“You’re very kind,” Eris smiled, his voice softened by the kindness she had shown his beloved pet. It was, of course, a risk to show any affection for his hounds. They were meant to be ruthless weapons. Just like the seven sons.

“What are your mother’s guards names?” She asked suddenly, brows drawing together.

“Why?” He swallowed an urge to reach out and smooth the wrinkles between her eyebrows with his thumb, swiping away whatever worried her just to see her smile again.

“I just think I should know. It seems to rude to refer to them as anything else. They’re not my guards.”

So she must not know about Thesan’s order for Eris to protect her while she was present in the Autumn Court. He had extended that order to the guards.

“The older one with dark hair is Caspian, and Asher is blond and bearded,” Eris answered. Aya nodded, and he could practically see her tucking the information away in her mind.

Against the dark wood and warm colors of his room, he thought she looked like a sparkling gemstone. Vibrant Amethyst among common stones. They watched each other in silence for the third time until, reluctantly, he led her back to the winnow spot and let her return to her world.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

The next morning, Aya was pulled from her sleep by a knock on the door. A courier waited on the other side with an envelope and package wrapped in brown paper and string. She thanked him and returned to her bed, holding the parcel in her lap. The paper and string fell forgotten to the floor as she opened it eagerly.

Inside was a new leather satchel, the same shape and size as her old one. The sides and edges had been dyed a rich mulberry, the leather carved and tooled into an interlocking, curving design. The golden clasp, shaped like a leaf, gleamed in the morning sun. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of it, so lovely and new compared to the one she had carried daily for years now. The leather had been worn so thoroughly that it drooped and sagged.

Aya opened the bag, finding it lined with pockets and sections the perfect sizes for bandages and vials. There was also an envelope nestled inside, her name scrawled on the front in curly script. She opened it gingerly, planning to add the paper to the box of ephemera under her bed. Mail was a rare treat.

Aya,

Thank you again for your help. Juno is doing much better and I suspect you have made a friend of him. I hope this gift will be of use to you.

As for retribution for your missed day off, you may also find that your instructors received a strongly worded letter from some anonymous busybody complaining about the state of cleanliness in the healer’s wing. I believe the buildings are being deep-cleaned over the next few days. Enjoy your long weekend.

Eris

Aya buried her face in her hands, covering her silly, involuntary smile and burning cheeks. She finally bothered to open the other envelope, finding Eris to be truthful. The head of the school had sent a note announcing that classes had been canceled, though they did include a list of assignments to complete and log in the meantime. Assignments that she could complete in the greenhouse, between dozing off and basking in the sunshine the green, herbal scent. Somehow, against all the odds she battled with, Aya had made a friend.

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readychilledwine · 8 months ago

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✨️happy June 14th✨️

So first, today is Sophia's 6 month birthday 🥺🥺

Second, we are halfway through 2024. Isn't that insane?! I decided to start a tag game for us to celebrate everything we've accomplished so far this year.

I thought it would be fun for us to post our top 5 favorite things we've wrote/drawn, and have posted since I know some of us have gems hidden, to bring love to things that maybe haven't gotten the attention we wanted or that thrived💕

Fanart, moodboards, dividers. Headcanons, drabbles, one shots, or a chapter update to your epic on going fic, I don't care, I want to read and see them and give you love!

So, without further ado, here are mine in no real order:

Drumming Song - Summary - 49 long years without your mate finally comes to an end after Amarantha grants him one night of freedom - smut - Rhysand x reader

The Breakfast Club - Summary - After missing breakfast unexpectedly, a hidden relationship is revealed to Azriel's family, who can't tell if they're more surprised by you or his cat. - Fluff - Azriel x reader

Love Language - Summary - Lucien never wanted you to question his love, so he makes sure you never have to by leaving small reminders every time he leaves. - Fluff - Lucien x reader

Mine - Summary - Cassian always gets a little riled up when he gets to fight for your honor. - Smut - Cassian x reader

Limbo - Summary - You would never be able to move on from your untimely death. Not while the two males you loved kept you trapped here. - Angst - Tamlin x Rhysand's Sister Reader

No obligation tags to: @claireswritingcorner @honeybeefae @thehighladywrites @labyrinth-of-stories-and-stars @danikamariewrites @sarawritestories @milswrites @itsswritten @illyrianbitch @acourtofladydeath @nocasdatsgay @littlestw01f @loneliestluvr @lady-of-tearshed @hopeinvelaris @daycourtofficial @writingcroissant @acotarxreader @pit-and-the-pen @historiaxvanserra @utterlyazriel @dawneternal @stormhearty @tsumani-of-tears @secret-third-thing @teddyhoneybear @zenkindoflove @ninthcircleofprythian @achaotichuman @hieragalbatorixdottir @artists-ally @invisibleanonymousmonsters @lucienarcheron @tadpolesonalgae @serpentandlily @azrielsdove

really anyone who'd like to do it 💕

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #tag games #love my moots 💕

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elucienweekofficial · 6 months ago

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Instagram ・ AO3 Collection ・ Twitter ・ Event Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who participated in Day 2 of Elucien Week!

We did our best to keep track of all of the tumblr contributions below, but if we missed anyone or made any mistakes please assume best intentions and kindly reach out to one of our mods! 🌸🦊

📝Fics, drabbles, and poetry:

Coming Forth By Day by @annaskareninas

Vines On a Tree by @teddyhoneybear

A Golden Nightgown by @fieldofdaisiies

My dearest, loveliest... by @sunshinebingo

Long Live by @separatist-apologist

Light the Fire Bright by @ataraxiasflame

ACOWAR (Elucien's Version) by @crazy-ache

Karma Is My Boyfriend by @rosanna-writer

…and the sun rises by @writtenonreceipts

A Heart of Gold by @jules-writes-stories

Something About April by @starsreminisce

What Do You Know About Love by @the-lonelybarricade

Lay Me Down In The Light by @acourtoflucien

Lantern's Light by @sonics-atelier

Pearls by @lady-sunbeam

Agony Tenderly Gilded by @booksnwriting

it's perpetual bliss by @avabrynne

nine by @onlyinmymiiiind

🎨Art:

Golden Hour by @climbthemountain2020

One single thread of gold by @tsunami-of-tears

Future High Lord & Lady of the Day Court commissioned by @lucienarcheron from artist @majuandrad

their love is golden commissioned by @lovelygwyneth from artist @/veigg_

it's golden commissioned by @separatist-apologist and @the-lonelybarricade from artist @dimalry

Elucien tangled in golden sheets by @whettpaint

The golden thread that ties Lucien to Elain by @works-of-heart

Fated/Golden by @positivewitch

Golden art commissioned by @separatist-apologist, @amandapearls, and @foreverinelysian

Aria Spellcleaver and her grandparents by @highladyofboleyncourt

Visiting Grandpa Archeron commissioned by @lulufoxlainfawn from artist @/sofiameriggi.art

Golden Fancraftart by @shallyne

𝒯𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 commissioned by @moonpatroclus from artist summergorgon

Laying together in a field of golden flowers by @nesta-apologist

Elain and Lucien are a farmers market commissioned by @gwynrieldefenseatty from artist @/mm.radish.art

Golden Art by @luciensdefenseattorney

now I see daylight by @velidewrites

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚 commissioned by @acourtdelaluna from artist @lyyzismess

Golden by @stargirlie25

Golden by @lib-arts

But It's Golden by @jadedbugart

Elucien Wedding by @artandbooknook

Elucien NSFW pieces 1 and 2 by @jadedbugart

Elucien in the forest at Golden Hour by @dawneternal

🎶Misc:

s u n l i g h t moodboard by @spore-loser

The Prythian Talk: Golden by @octobers-veryown

It's Golden Moodboard by @iheartfjords

Golden Moodboard and Analysis by @shadowisles-writes

SUNSHINE edit by @bookishwithathought

Elucien Twitter Soft Launch by @acotarmemes

Golden Wedding Jewelry by @shadowqueenjude

Day Court Elucien Persian Moodboard by @lainalit

Warrior of the Mind Moodboard by @starfall-spirit

A Court of Sun and Sight by @onlyinmymiiiind

Twitter meme by @lovelygwyneth

Golden Analysis by @acourtofthought

Thank you as well to everyone who coloured today's Coloring Page!

Golden coloring page by @sadiegirl2021

Golden coloring page by @yaralulu

Golden coloring page by @the-lonelybarricade

Golden coloring page by @cauldronblssd

Golden coloring page by @shadowisles-writes

If we missed one of your contributions, kindly reach out to one of our event runners!

Header art by @laxibbeb

#Elucien #Elucienweek2024 #Elucien fanfiction #Elucien fanart #Elucien moodboard #Elain x Lucien #Lucien x Elain #Day 2: Golden #Masterlist

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spiritedstars · 9 months ago

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Hii!🙈💕 4, 9, 23, 26

hi bby!! ♥️

4) Do you have a favourite quote from one of the books?

Is it cheating if I say every line Lucien ever said LOL. In all seriousness, the ones that stuck with me are always: "Don't let the hard days win." from ACOTAR and "You could rattle the stars. You could do anything, if only you dared." from TOG because they both remind you that hope can always be the answer.

I answered 9 here <3

23) Hardest character to write for?

Hmmmm. I think as of right now, Gwyn. I started working on a Gwynriel modern au piece and while I'm pretty comfortable writing Azriel, Gwyn is a character I'm not used to writing so I gotta let myself get in her head more!

26) What’s a character you won’t write for and why?

I never say never only because you really don't know when inspiration will hit. While writing for SMTB I uh, started a document that will never see the light for Beron so *shrugs helplessly*

SJM ask games

#asks #teddyhoneybear #thank you for the ask bby!!!#sjm ask games #teddy tag

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tamlinweek · 9 months ago

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Tamlin Week 2024 Master List

Once again, we want to thank each and every one of you for making this event so successful! If you would like to do us one more favor, please fill out this anonymous feedback form to let the mods know what you thought of Tamlin Week. Last year's survey was super helpful, especially in letting us know how to improve the event.

This post is the Super Mega Ultra Tamlin Week 2024 Master List! It has links to all the master lists for each day of Tamlin Week, with every single submission. At the bottom are links to more of the fun/helpful posts we've made in the lead up to Tamlin Week. Enjoy!

Tamlin Week 2024 Master Lists

Day 1: Heir of Spring/Human Tamlin

Day 2: Poet/Warrior

Day 3: Mates/Flower Language

Day 4: Calanmai/Happily Ever After

Day 5: Shapeshifter/Masquerade

Day 6: Dreams/Fairy Tale AU

Day 7: Free Day

Additional Links

Tamlin Week 2024 AO3 Collection (Instructions here)

Tamlin Week Statistics

Tamlin Creator Appreciation Posts

Tamlin Coloring Pages

The Language of Flowers

How to Participate in an Event

Tamlin vs. Tam Lin: A Brief Retelling

Tamlin Week 2024 Prompts, FAQ, and Rules

Tagging all the event's participants so everyone knows this is up!

@achaotichuman @alizangc @arson-09 @b0xerdancer-writes @balladoffeylin @bettdraws @booksnwriting @climbthemountain2020 @copypastus @dopeartisanprincess @duaghterofstories @elliemarchetti @feyres-divorce-lawyer @fieldofdaisiies @fourteentrout @foxcort @goddessofwisdom18 @goforth-ladymidnight @justatouristhere @loonyloomy @lorcandidlucienwill @lordofhaterism @mathiwrites @mirandasidefics @nocasdatsgay @northern-polaris @ohnyxlin @positivelyruined @praetorqueenreyna @queercontrarian @readychilledwine @rin-u-pos @shi-daisy @simmanin @songofthesibyl @sonics-atelier @szalonykasztan00 @tadpolesonalgae @tamlinfairchild @taymartiart @teddyhoneybear @the-new-mandalor @thelov3lybookworm @thisblogisaboutabook @thrumugnyr @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken @vivictory-draws @wingsdippedingold

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animezinglife · 6 months ago

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The Rhythm of Flames

Lucien knows Elain is adjusting to life in Day. What he doesn't expect is for her to embrace its dances so fully. Short one-shot written for @elucienweekofficial (Day 4: High Society).

Genre: General (and a hint of suggestiveness) Post-canon Elucien mini fic/shameless excuse for Elain to let loose. Inspired by this and this. I refuse to believe that in its medley of cultural inspiration, Day isn't a hotspot for all kinds of dancing. Tagging @lucienarcheron, @crazy-ache, @zenkindoflove, and @teddyhoneybear for always being such sweet supporters!

Music and chatter had grown deafening from where Lucien sat beside the High Lord of Day. The Day Court was known for their parties: of the lively, loud bands and strong drink, impressive feasts, dallying, and dancing. They were a people who worked hard and celebrated often–even if for no reason at all–and the latter had taken some getting used to during his more frequent visits. It helped that Helion was a gracious host to his guests, having already spoken with every guest once and mingled among them before returning to his throne; that Lucien knew the High Lord–his father–had eyes everywhere in his court and that very little went on he did not see.

“Lost in thought?” Helion’s deep voice shook Lucien from his thoughts, and Lucien turned to see the High Lord sliding another goblet of wine over to him. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch–hadn’t even noticed the tension he’d held in his posture out of habit. He released a breath, accepting the goblet and taking a long swig.

To say things had initially been awkward with Helion was understatement. Lucien still wasn’t certain where his own role fell in Day. He was accustomed to being a student of other courts. He had long studied the culture, history, politics, and manners of them all, and his efforts had proven invaluable throughout his years as an emissary. What he hadn’t learned in books he’d picked up through years of practical study and experience, conversing and observing courtiers and other locals to offer the best representation possible.

Yet it was one thing to learn the inner workings of a court.

It was another entirely to learn one was its heir.

Learning that Helion was his father had been the greatest shock of his life. He’d long suspected he was not of Beron’s blood; had even gathered through the magic he’d kept hidden through most of his life that his father had been from Day. Lucien had never asked his mother the details; had spared her the risk and turmoil of speaking about it at all. He had assumed his father had been an emissary, or perhaps a traveling merchant or minstrel who’d crossed paths with her all those years ago. He had never blamed his mother for her secret, even though he’d resented the need to keep it a secret in the first place. The years he’d lived under Beron’s monstrous thumb still haunted him: loss and devastation, anger and guilt.

And to discover his father had been Helion all along…

Lucien was still processing how he felt; what that meant for him now and in the future.

What it meant for Elain and the life they were building together.

His eyes scanned the room for her again now, and he ignored Helion’s chuckle.

“She’s safe, Lucien,” he said, amused but not unkindly.

“I know,” he replied, taking another drink of wine. He always knew whether she was or wasn’t; could feel her as though their very souls were intertwined. Perhaps they were through whatever deep magic had led them to each other and tethered them together.

In many ways, Elain seemed to be adjusting to Day better than he was.

She loved the sunshine; the sprawling gardens and striking architecture. She loved the libraries and heat, and to Lucien’s relief, she was quickly embracing the people and culture.

He’d known they would love her–that had never been a question. Elain had made friends here–two of which she’d wandered off into the crowd with tonight–and had slowly but surely began branching out with every visit. He’d stayed by her side when she wanted company and gave her space when she wished it.

She always had a choice, from how much time they spent in Day to how many of its customs she took part in. A small smile crossed his lips at the memory of her shuffling through the unfamiliar clothing in local shops in their earliest visits together, determined to find a balance both suitable for the climate and that she still felt comfortable in. Day fashion could be notoriously revealing by even Fae standards, and Elain preferred more modest attire.

Lucien wouldn’t have cared if she’d graced Day wearing those dreadful Illyrian leathers–he wanted her to be comfortable; wanted her to know she had a place anywhere no matter what she wore.

Over time, she had surprised him by making bolder selections more traditional to the court; attending more of Helion's less infamous sort of parties and branching out with broader social circles. Yet none of those changes elicited quite the same reaction in him as the one he favored most.

Elain wore her smiles more easily in Day.

While he’d never pressed the issue, he could’ve sworn they emerged more frequently here than they did in Night. He felt her relief through the bond; her joy when they visited here, and while he had his suspicions of why that might be, Lucien knew the reason would be hers to tell when she was ready.

Helion cleared his throat and Lucien looked to him, taking his eyes off the crowd as the High Lord nodded towards a group of dancers on a small corner stage. Females clad in midriff-baring attire adorned with gold and jewels slung like belts around the hips, their long, dark hair swaying with their smooth, sensual movements. Males in flowing trousers and similar belts moving in a similar, synchronized rhythm. A small crowd of party goers had gathered around them, one of which Lucien’s eyes settled on and stayed fixed.

That tug of their bond that told him she knew he’d found her.

And what he saw–what he watched–had him entranced.

Nesta Archeron was said to be the dancer of the three sisters. For years, Lucien had assumed that to be true–had known she’d held her own with his brother and was said to draw the eyes of all when she entered the dance floor. Yet Lucien preferred an elegant, unassuming waltz or carefree gavotte with Elain over theatrics. He had led her through and taught her the dances of other courts when they started their emissary work together; had savored every moment of holding her close and breathing in her sweet scent.

But this…

Lucien’s pulse pounded in his chest, heat rising in him at the sight of her as she joined the dancers on their small stage while her friends cheered below. Of the hypnotic, serpentine movements she began to mimic as she threw her head back and laughed; arms adorned with golden jewelry and golden-brown curls swaying against the small hints of bare skin her dress offered. She looked to the female dancer beside her and beamed as she copied the rapid rock of her hips and the light rise and fall of her feet.

Then, she turned.

Her eyes locked with his from across the room as she rolled her body, hips circling and weaving with every bit as much sensual grace the dancers emitted. He took all of her in: the slight shyness that still flickered in her eyes, the soft curves her dress both covered and emphasized and the gleam of sweat reflected in the firelight of the braziers that lined the stage. The tantalizing movements that commanded and held his attention.

She smiled coyly, a blush appearing on her cheeks as the music slowed. She bit her lip and lowered her gaze down her own body as she rolled it again to the beat of the drums. Lucien’s nostrils flared.

Touch her. Taste her.

Cauldron boil him.

He shoved the thought down as she continued her dance, leashing the instincts that told him to cross that dance floor now, pluck her off the stage, and take her to bed. The heat that flooded through him and drove his need; that set his blood ablaze as the flames of their bond reached out to her.

There was no mistaking the tug she sent in response; the gleam in her fawn-brown eyes that nearly drove him wild.

She would finish her dance. She would enjoy this night; this party.

And once they were alone…

Well. He didn’t need daemati gifts to understand her meaning.

He would watch her all night if she wished it.

Sensing the knowing look and smirk Helion threw his way, Lucien forced himself to take another drink. Whatever noise the crowd around them brought had dwindled in comparison to those drums and seeing his mate’s provocative dance. He heard only the drums and the blaze of their bond; of the way her heartbeat had synchronized with both and his own.

Just for tonight, their rhythm and flames were all he needed to hear.

#elucienweek #elucienweek2024 #elucien #day 4: high society #the rhythm of flames #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra x elain archeron #helion spell-cleaver #helion spell cleaver #day court #the day court #elucien fics #short one shot #short one-shot

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