#the band of exiles’ manor

[velidewrites]

A Court of Thorns and Ross Locations

⤷ THE BAND OF EXILES' MANOR

For @thedeadromantics

[harperbrynne]

Elain goes to live with the BoE…

Headcanon that Feyre and Rhys are worried about Nyx being in the Night Court with all the multiverse activity going on there: Aelin falling past, Bryce falling in, etc.

Feyre and Rhys and Elain agree that Nyx and Elain will live with the BoE in the Mortal Lands until they can figure out a way to send Bryce home. Feyre and Rhys believe Elain’s seer powers will help ensure whatever harm might befall Nyx will be seen and eradicated before it happens.

Lucien travels with Elain and Nyx because he not only knows Prythian well, he also knows the BoE and their manor, considering that is where he has been staying when he is not in Prythian…

[kingofsummer93]

Plant a Jasmine in the Night

Summary:

On her first ever assignment as Night Court emissary to the human lands, Elain stumbles onto something she shouldn't have seen.

What was meant to be her chance to have a taste of freedom might just end up pushing her towards the one person she's been avoiding all along.

Rating: E

Read it on Ao3

Inspired by an @sjmkinkmeme prompt. Elain's dream was inspired by this gorgeous comic by @artcraawl.

The dream started as it always did. It was night, and Elain was in her garden at the River House. The air was fragrant with late summer blooms, and something else- something that she couldn’t place at first, but that tugged at her heartstrings like a distant, fond memory.

A crisp wind sent goosebumps erupting along her skin. She rubbed her arms, teeth chattering with cold. The next moment a warm wind encircled her, a bubble of warmth wrapping itself around her like a cocoon. That distant scent became stronger- woodsmoke, crisp apples, and something else. Something like the scent of sun-warmed skin, musky and so inherently male that a small whine escaped her lips as she filled her lungs with it.

Elain closed her eyes and sighed. It was so pleasant, the warmth and that mouth-watering scent, that she could have stood there forever. She was aware of a presence behind her, but she didn’t mind. Not even as a familiar noise interrupted the silence around her- a steady, unfaltering thump, calling to her like a port in a storm.

It grew louder as he came closer, that golden thread of light coiling tight in her chest, buzzing in response to his closeness. His arms wrapped around her, those large hands settling on her stomach, and then his lips were near her ear, tickling her skin. Elain tipped her head back against his chest, melting into the solid warmth of him.

“I’ve missed you.”

--

Elain woke with a gasp. For a moment the scent and warmth lingered around her, and she clung to it even as it slipped away from her like sand through her fingers. And then it was gone.

She hadn’t had the dream in a long time. It was usually triggered by Lucien’s presence, and she hadn’t seen him in months. Not since Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony, where he’d avoided her like the plague.

The memory of that night made her burn with fresh embarrassment. He was always impeccably dressed, but he had looked particularly handsome that night, in a white shirt and emerald green vest trimmed with gold embroidery. His long hair had been unbound, with two little braids snaking around his ears, revealing their elegant, pointed tips. She had thought that perhaps Lucien might ask her to dance- and that even if they went back to their usual rhythm of avoidance, she might at least have that memory to cherish in secret.

Instead, she had looked on with growing jealousy as he asked every other female in attendance to dance, except for her. She could hardly blame him- no doubt he had expected her to say no, and had wanted to avoid a particularly public rejection. Still, it had felt like a rejection of its own.

I don’t want it, Graysen had told her, after she had offered him her heart.

Mistake, Azriel had told her, after she had offered him a kiss- and perhaps more, if he had wanted it.

And then silence and avoidance from her mate- her cauldron-blessed soul mate, bound to her forever. Whom she couldn’t even escape from in her dreams.

Lucien wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight. It was partly why she accepted the job in the first place. With her mate permanently stationed in the Spring Court to keep an eye on the situation with the Autumn Court border, he had less time on his hands to act as Night Court emissary to the human lands. Elain had volunteered for the job, eager to finally do something.

Feyre had been hesitant, at first, and more than a little surprised, but Elain had stood her ground. What was the point of all the freedom that her new life as fae offered her, if all she did with it was tend to her garden and help cook meals for her family? She was familiar with court politics of the human lands, and knew how to act around their nobility. The social season was a kind of court warfare of its own, after all. And besides, with Lucien spending most of time in Spring, she wouldn’t need to worry about running into him.

Or so she had thought, until she had done precisely that.

She had breathed a sigh of relief upon her arrival when it had become apparent that her mate was not around. Vassa had been cheerful and kind, and Jurian, though Elain was still uncertain how she felt about the man, had been polite, if a bit sarcastic. Given the fact that Vassa was only in her human form after sundown, the pair had graciously offered to host her for the night, and Elain had agreed. She’d even started to enjoy herself by the time they sat down for a late dinner, her nerves put at ease by Vassa’s relaxed irreverence, and Jurian’s witty remarks.

Until he had waltzed in, looking casually handsome in a breezy white linen shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Elain had cursed herself for not noticing his arrival. Maybe her senses were somewhat dulled by the lack of magic in the air. The way he had frozen upon seeing her had been so comical that Elain would have laughed, if she hadn’t been so mortified.

After a painfully awkward dinner, during which she had studiously avoided his gaze, she had politely declined Vassa’s offer of a game of cards, and had retreated to her guest room like a scared mouse.

It was too much, seeing him like this, relaxed and joking with his friends. The only person he ever acted with this way was Feyre, and occasionally Varien and Cassian. It made him more real, somehow, and less like a vague, occasional visitor that she could pretend didn’t exist. She didn’t need any opportunity to start seeing him as someone that she might like. That was a dangerous road- one, she was keenly aware, that only ever led to being hurt.

If only she had the power to winnow, she might have written a note to Jurian and Vassa, thanking them for their hospitality, and disappeared into the night. But she couldn’t, which meant she was stuck here, under the same roof as him, until morning.

And now she couldn’t sleep.

Elain kicked off the covers in frustration. There was no use trying to go back to sleep now, not with the memory of that dream still rattling her nerves. She had once asked Madja for a sleeping tonic, thinking it would help, but she had learned the painful way that though the tonics indeed helped her sleep, they did not keep the dreams at bay.

She wrapped a robe around herself, thinking she’d slip down to the kitchens for a cup of tea. Perhaps with a splash of whiskey in it, if she could find some. Maybe then she’d be able to sleep.

She hesitated a moment before opening her door before checking the small clock on the bedside table. It was well past midnight- surely everyone was asleep by now? Lucien’s heart was a steady, even beat, a mockery of her own jangled nerves. Surely asleep, then.

The upstairs landing was quiet and dark, a single oil lamp at the top of the stairs confirming that her path was clear. The sight of that oil lamp was jarring, somehow. She’d grown so used to the sight of fae light that she had almost forgotten it didn't exist here.

The thick carpet absorbed the sound of her footsteps as she crept down the hall and towards the stairs. Maybe being back in the human lands was messing with her, she told herself. Maybe that was why she couldn’t sleep. Even the food at dinner had tasted wrong, though it had looked and smelled delicious. The fish, glazed and flaking under her fork, had tasted like the bottom of a river, and the wine, though she recognized the vintage as being a fine one, had burned all the way down her throat like a mouthful of vinegar.

Perhaps that was the problem. Not the dream, or him, but being here. The wrongness of being here only highlighted how used she had gotten to her new world, to the strangeness that now felt normal. Something about that made her feel sad.

She had almost reached the bottom of the stairs when a light from the foyer snapped her out of her reverie. The door to the sitting room was halfway closed, even though it had been thrown wide open during the evening. Maybe the others were still playing cards, and hadn’t wanted to disturb her sleep.

Elain hesitated. There would be no hope of sleeping if she went back upstairs now. The best she could hope for was a sleepless night spent tossing and turning. She’d simply have to sneak past the door and hope Lucien wasn’t there to sense her presence- or that he’d ignore her if he was.

She took another step, moving as quietly as she could- and then a noise made her freeze, her foot hovering over the stairs. A soft gasp, throaty and definitely feminine. Elain gripped the banister, holding her breath. Her heartbeat was so loud in her own ears that she was once again grateful that Lucien couldn’t hear it.

Had she imagined it? Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her after that blasted dream…

Another noise drifted from the sitting room, one that she had definitely not imagined. A high-pitched whine, but muffled, as if whoever was emitting those sounds was trying hard to be quiet.

Elain might have been inexperienced, at least by fae standards, by she wasn’t clueless. Her face grew hot as she deduced what exactly was going on in the sitting room.

She wanted nothing more than to turn on her heels and bolt back up the stairs, but she was rooted to the spot. Lucien’s easy manner with Vassa at dinner flashed through her mind on a loop. White-hot jealousy hit her like a brick, so overpowering that it almost took her breath away. Surely…surely he wouldn’t, not while she was staying with them? Surely…

But then again, she reminded herself, that hadn’t bothered her on Solstice. Why should he hold himself to higher standards?

Her hand clenched tighter on the banister. An inexplicable mix of emotions was coursing through her veins, making her feel as though she was a second away from bursting out of her skin. She couldn’t move- her feet somehow didn’t belong to her anymore, and she could no more control them than she could alter the weather.

Elain had just managed to lift one foot from the stairs when Vassa moaned. Not a quiet whine or gasp like before, but a deep, low, dragged-out moan. The restraint was gone, as if she simply couldn’t hold herself back any longer.

That single moan was so erotic, so uninhibited, so unabashedly joyful that Elain froze again. Heat pooled low in her stomach as she felt herself flush even deeper.

This was wrong. It was wrong on so many levels, but still she couldn’t move. She just wanted to hear it one more time.

There was a low rumble of laughter, wicked and decidedly male, followed by the unmistakable sound of a slap. A gasp (delighted, by the sounds of it) and then more wicked laughter.

Elain tasted copper in her mouth, and she winced as she realized she’d been biting her lip so hard she had drawn blood.

“Yes,” Vassa gasped “yes, yes!”

Elain’s skin felt too tight, too restricting for the heat flowing through her veins. She felt like her blood had been set to boil, and soon she’d either melt or burst into flames, right here on the stairs.

Move, she urged her feet. Do something.

She took another step down, and then another, and it wasn’t until her feet hit the landing that she realized she had walked down the stairs instead of up. Vassa’s moans were quickening, her gasps becoming edged with desperation. What could Lucien be doing to her, she wondered, to elicit such sounds from her?

Her stomach clenched with a strange mix of jealousy and want. Lucien was meant to want her. Not Vassa. She had thought he did, at least in whatever primal, physical way the bond urged him to. But could she really blame him for seeking a willing companion, when all she ever did was reject him?

A new and horrible thought occurred to her. What if they were in love? Physical pleasure, she could understand, but being cast aside once again so thoroughly…

“Jurian! Yes, oh Gods…”

Jurian. Not Lucien. The relief she felt was nothing short of a tidal wave. And yet- why was it that she was somehow disappointed, to know that it hadn’t been her mate who made such wanton sounds come out of another female?

She was just curious, she told herself, even as she edged closer to the door to the sitting room. It was perfectly normal to be curious about these things, especially when her own experience was so limited…

A flash of movement caught her gaze. There was a large gilded mirror on the wall of the foyer, and from this angle she could perfectly see the reflection of the sitting room- and its occupants. Elain had to bite her lip to keep herself from gasping.

Vassa was kneeling on the ground, her thighs on either side of Jurian’s head as she rocked on his face with wild abandon. She was wearing nothing but a thin silky shift that had been yanked down to expose full, luscious breasts that bounced with every rock or her hips.

A rush of heat zapped through her, the faint ache between her legs growing to a thrumming pulse. She couldn’t look away as Vassa cried out, her body seizing uncontrollably from her pleasure.

Sex with Graysen hadn’t been anything like that. Elain had enjoyed the closeness, and the intimacy, but the act itself had been mostly uncomfortable and she’d been much too nervous to feel any pleasure.

This sort of pure physical lust, the pursuit of pleasure for the sake of it, fascinated her. She wanted to see what they would do next. The scent of their combined arousal was heavy in the air, salty and musky. She was glad neither of them had fae senses, or they’d surely be able to scent her own. It was wrong- she was a voyeur at best and a pervert at worst, but they didn’t have to know.

But then Vassa’s eyes snapped open, and caught her gaze.

Elain inhaled sharply, and then stopped breathing altogether. She was frozen, a marble statue with nothing but a thundering, racing heartbeat to betray her.

Move, she urged her traitorous feet. Make some excuse and run. She’d never more wished that she had the ability to winnow than at that moment.

She opened her mouth–to say what, precisely, she had no idea–but no sound came out.

If it had been her getting caught like this she would have yelped, and stumbled to cover herself, but Vassa did no such thing. Her arresting blue eyes widened in surprise for the briefest of moments, and Elain prepared to launch herself into a tirade of apologies and excuses.

But Vassa only grinned, and then she lifted a finger and beckoned to Elain. Something about the gesture jolted her out of her frozen stupor.

“Sorry!” she squeaked, whirling around so her back was to the sitting room. “Sorry, gods, I didn’t mean to-“

A low laugh, some whispered words, and then wicked, delighted chuckles. Elain bolted for the stairs.

“Wait!”

The voice was male, and laced with enough authority that Elain halted with her foot on the bottom stair. Oh gods this was mortifying, they’d tell Lucien about it and he would tell everyone and she’d never live it down…

“Where are you running off to?”

The voice behind her was Vassa’s, accompanied by the soft patter of bare feet. Elain didn’t dare turn around.

“Sorry!” she said again. “I didn’t mean, I was just going to the kitchen for tea and-“

Vassa tsked. “Poor thing, can’t sleep? We could help with that.”

Elain peered over her shoulder in surprise, and immediately blushed as her eyes landed on Vassa’s bare breasts. The woman seemed completely unperturbed by her nudity.

“What?”

“How long were you watching us?”

“I wasn’t- I didn't mean to-“

“I like to watch too,” Vassa whispered. She stepped closer, until her peaked nipples pressed against the thin fabric of Elain’s robe. “I could watch while you have a turn with Jurian. He knows how to use that tongue for more than mouthing off.”

Elain flushed with a strange combination of mortification and heat. An image flitted through her mind for just a moment- her nightgown ruched up to her waist, fingers gripping her tightly by the hips as she moved. Except it wasn’t Jurian beneath her, but someone with long, silky red hair, and two-toned eyes that shone with fire and mischief.

“Oh! Um.” She had to get out of here. There was no way she’d ever be ever to continue her role as emissary, that was abundantly clear. “That’s, um-”

She went to take a step but froze as Vassa’s fingers landed at the nape of her neck, brushing her hair aside. Her fingers felt deliciously cool and yet sinful against her heated skin.

“Or we could have him watch us. He’d love that.”

A low chuckle from just inside the sitting room. “Indeed.”

What was she doing? “No thank you!”

She didn’t turn around again before sprinting up the stairs, half expecting Vassa to chase after her. When she reached the top landing she pressed her forehead against the wall, letting her racing heart slow down. With her fae hearing she could hear the muffled sounds of quiet laughter from downstairs, but thankfully no footsteps on the stairs.

Elain couldn’t decide what was more mortifying- that she had been caught, or that she had enjoyed watching. There was no way she’d be able to face either of them ever again. She’d just lock herself in her room and wait for Rhysand to come bring her home in the morning, and that would be that. So much for taking advantage of her freedom.

Her pulse slowed enough that her blood was no longer pounding in her ears, and that’s when she heard it. Another heartbeat, one that did not belong to her, reminding her of who else was currently in this manor. What had she been doing? She’d never be able to face him now, either.

She turned towards her room, and stopped short as she realized she wasn’t alone. There he was, leaning against the open doorway to his room. Her mate.

He was wearing nothing but low slung pants that looked to have been hauled on carelessly. His hair was unbound, dripping over his shoulder like a river of dripping embers. Elain’s gaze caught on the expanse of muscled chest and rippled abs on display, down to the carved hip muscles and the trail of auburn hair that led into his waistband.

She felt herself blush, but caught herself before her eyes could trail further south, snapping her gaze back up to his face- and to the positively devilish grin on his face.

“Everything all right?” he asked, eyebrows lifting in feigned ignorance. That gesture told her everything she needed to know about what he had overheard.

“Fine,” she replied, too quickly, too breathlessly. She cleared her throat. “Just…I couldn’t sleep, so I went down to get some tea, and-“

“And you walked in on Jurian and Vassa fucking?”

Elain winced at the crude language, but mostly at the fact that she had. As if to emphasize the fact, a loud groan sounded from downstairs.

“Don’t they know that doors close?” She had been aiming to sound stern and annoyed, but it fell more than a bit short.

Lucien’s grin widened. He took a slow, almost feline step towards her. Elain instinctively backed away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

“They like having people watch.”

“So Vassa said.”

She wanted nothing more than to end this mortifying conversation and lock herself in her room, but Lucien was barring her path.

“Are you well, my lady?” Lucien continued, taking another step towards her. He was close enough now that she could see as his nostrils flared slightly, his russet eye growing dark as he registered her scent. “You look flushed.”

Damn him. Damn the fae and their senses, and damn the humans downstairs–definitely still entangled, by the sounds of it–and damn him most of all, and-

“I’m not your lady,” she snapped. The words shocked her even as they came out of her mouth.

Lucien blinked in surprise, and then his shock slowly melted into a delighted smirk.

“Maybe not. But you are my mate.” Elain shivered at the word, and then gritted her teeth as she saw Lucien track the motion. “Can’t fault me for wondering why you’re looking so feverish when you were perfectly healthy earlier.”

His grin was so smug that she felt like clawing it off his face. He knew. He knew and he found it hilarious.

“I’m just…a little warm, that’s all.”

She was struggling to look anywhere but his face. It was proving to be more and more difficult as he prowled so close to her that she was finally forced to crane her neck to look up at him.

Immediately she wished she hadn’t. The low light of the torch burning at the top of the stairs cast the sharp panes of his face in stark relief, his long hair practically alive with flame where it flowed over his shoulders. She could feel the heat emanating from his bare skin, and it was an effort not to reach out and touch it, to see if she could feel the flame that everyone said ran through his veins. Elain would have melted in embarrassment at the impropriety of it all, if she hadn’t been so desperately attracted to him.

Mate, she reminded herself. He’s your mate that you don’t want, don’t need, didn’t ask for-

His gaze dipped, slowly trailing down her body until it snagged on her bare legs. He swallowed thickly, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides as if he longed to touch her but didn’t dare.

Elain wished he would. The thought was at once shocking and yet blatantly obvious. Maybe just this once, to satisfy a curiosity that was clearly two sided. And then they could go back to avoiding each other. She’d never be able to face him after tonight, anyway.

“Pity,” he murmured. “Here I thought you liked what you saw.”

Her breathing quickened as he slowly reached out and ran the silken belt of her robe between his long fingers. There was something sensual in the gesture that made her stomach clench in anticipation.

“Maybe I did.”

A sharp tug, and the knot holding her robe closed fell apart like a wisp of smoke. Lucien’s eyes dipped again, and when they slowly dragged back up to her face a flame had kindled to life in his russet eye. An actual, dancing flame, as real as the flame fueling the lamp on the wall. Her breath hitched at the sight of it.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, grinning so wickedly that she knew he was well aware of what he’d done. “Afraid of a little flame?”

Elain backed away another step, until her back hit the wall. “I’m not afraid of you,” she snapped.

She wasn’t, but this- this game they were playing, whatever it was, it scared her as much as it aroused her. The temptation to run away was as strong as the desire to touch him, smell him, kiss him. To mark him as hers.

He stepped closer until he was hovering over her, one arm braced above her head, the other still innocently hanging at his side. She wanted him to actually do something, if only so she would be forced to decide what to do about it.

“Good.” He dipped his head towards her neck, until his breath tickled her skin. It was so like her dream that she had to dig her nails into her palm to remind herself this was real. “Did they ask you to join them?”

Elain almost choked. She was blushing so aggressively that she felt a bead of sweat run down her back, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Judging from Lucien’s delighted grin the answer must have been written all over her face.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked, as casually as if they were talking about the weather.

She did choke this time, on a combination of half-hearted affront and shock. “Wh-what?” As if she hadn’t entertained the idea, at least for a moment. As if she couldn’t still feel Vassa’s cool touch on the heated nape of her neck.

“They like that too,” he continued, unperturbed. “They asked me to join, once.”

That shouldn’t have surprised her, and yet it did. She blamed her conservative upbringing, but somehow the idea of a threesome between two men and one woman seemed even more debauched.

She forced herself to breathe, to relax. “And did you?” she asked, lifting her chin brazenly.

She wasn’t sure what sorts of mechanics that would even involve, but her imagination ran away from her, filling her mind with all sorts of lurid thoughts. Jurian’s large calloused hands caressing Lucien’s golden skin, Vassa’s full breasts bouncing as she-

“Yes,” he replied simply.

Elain’s mouth dropped open at the admission. She wished she hadn’t asked, and yet she desperately wanted to know more, even as jealousy tore through her, so violently that her blood roared in her ears. She might have been trembling, from want or from anger, she wasn’t sure.

“Oh,” was all she managed to say.

Lucien laughed. She wasn’t sure whether it was at her expense or not, but it made her burn all the same. Was this who he really was, beneath the veneer of manners and careful, hesitant longing he usually put up around her?

“Tell me,” he continued. “What were they doing?”

Elain gulped, remembering Vassa’s bouncing breasts as she gyrated on Jurian’s face. A rush of heat settled like a weight between her legs. A small noise came out of Lucien, as he no doubt scented her every emotion. His own scent was so strong with him this close to her that she was having trouble thinking logically. It was so heady and warm, tinged salty from what she knew was his own arousal.

“Nothing I care to say out loud,” she said as primly as she could.

Lucien laughed. “Right. I forgot you were so uptight.”

“I am not-“

“I forgot, you see, seeing as you’re standing here with your panties soaked.”

Elain sputtered indignantly, her cheeks growing even more hot than they already were. “How dare you, I am not…” It seemed to be the only words she was capable of saying.

“You’re not?” Lucien asked, tilting his head as if they were making simple conversation. “So if I reached between your legs I wouldn’t be able to prove that you’re a little liar?”

Elain pressed her legs together, but in reality it was more to feel some kind of friction than in shock at his words.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Is that an invitation?” When he spoke his lips grazed against her ear, and Elain shivered. She clamped her lips shut, curious what he would do next. This side of him was thrilling, and intoxicating. She felt drunk on the novelty of what giving in to the pull of the bond would entail. It didn’t have to mean anything. The fae didn’t have any qualms about these things, after all, as Nesta loved to remind her.

Slowly, so slowly, Lucien’s fingers inched towards her leg. His touch was feather-light, and yet she felt it like a brand on her skin. He grazed his fingers up her thigh, pushing the hem of her nightgown up along the way. His heart rate was quickening along with her own, an echo of her raging pulse.

He paused then, as if giving her a chance to say no. And then his fingers dipped between her legs, right over the–as he had assumed, soaked–fabric of her underwear. Elain gasped, both in surprise that he had actually done it and at the current of heat that small touch sent fizzing through her veins.

Lucien groaned weakly, as if that touch had shocked him just as much as her. “Thought so.”

He started rubbing slow, tight circles through the wet silk of her underwear, and Elain’s knees nearly buckled.

“Tell me what you saw,” he murmured.

For a moment she didn’t remember what he was talking about, too focused on the fingers rubbing at the ache between her legs. It hadn’t been like this with Graysen. They had kissed, and he had fondled her breasts a bit, but he had certainly not touched her like this. She could only imagine what else Lucien could do, if this was how he made her feel with her underwear still on.

But then he pulled his fingers away, and Elain nearly whined in protest. “What are you-“

“Tell me,” he urged. “And you’ll get a reward.”

She wanted him to keep touching her. She needed him to keep touching her, or she’d combust.

“Vassa was…” She didn’t quite have the vocabulary for what she’d seen. Of course she knew the mechanics but Graysen certainly hadn’t done it. The men in Nesta’s smutty books always did, though, and claimed to enjoy doing it. She wondered if Lucien would.

“Yes?”

“She was…sitting on Jurian’s face.” That seemed the only way to describe it, but her face heated all the same as she said it.

Lucien chuckled so low and deep that Elain had to bite her lip to keep a sound from escaping her throat. “Is that so? Lucky him.”

Elain felt a hot pang of absurd jealousy at that. For a moment the memory shifted, and it was Lucien’s hands gripping Vassa’s thighs, his long hair spread out beneath him as he lay on his back.

Mine, that ancient, primal thing roared in her chest. He is mine, and I am his.

Lucien’s mouth dropped to her neck as he left a series of soft, warm kisses up her throat. “I told you good girls get rewards. Tell me what you want.”

Elain squirmed, or as much as she could do so standing up. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted, other than for him to keep touching her, keep talking to her. Keep calling her a good girl.

She wanted him to kiss her until she lost herself, but for some reason she thought she might have to earn that particular privilege first.

One of his hands trailed down her neck, knuckles first, and then lower still, over her peaked nipple. Elain arched into the touch. This, she wanted to say. This and so much more.

A hard pinch on her nipple made her gasp.

“Tell me what you want,” Lucien repeated. His hand drifted to her neck, tilting it up so she was forced to look into his blazing gaze. It felt dangerous, like if she looked too long she might burn. “Or I can leave you alone with only your fingers for company.”

Elain wanted to growl in frustration. “I’d like to slap that cocky grin off your face, for starters.”

Again Lucien’s eyes flashed in surprise, and then melted into delight. “Much better.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is much better than that meek mouse act you usually put on around me.”

Her hand moved so fast that the sound of flesh hitting flesh rang out before she even consciously made the decision to slap him. His skin smarted immediately, into a vulgar imitation of a blush.

The world seemed to slow down as Elain held her breath. She’d never hit anyone before, much less a grown male, save for maybe some half-hearted shoves with her sisters when they were little. The act itself shocked her less than the thrill it gave her.

Lucien’s eyes flashed. Do that again, they seemed to taunt her. Elain raised her other hand, but before she could so much as lift it Lucien had grabbed both her wrists and pinned them above her head.

“I think you’ve forgotten who’s in control here,” he growled. The breathlessness of his voice betrayed the lack of threat behind his words. Elain knew in her bones that one word from her and Lucien would stop.

She desperately didn’t want him to.

His lips were still curved into a maddening smirk. They were so full and lush, made for whispering secret words, for flashing devilish smirks, for stolen kisses in dark hallways in the middle of the night.

“Kiss me,” she breathed. “That’s what I want.”

Lucien didn’t wait for further prompting. He crashed his mouth to hers, and as their lips met it was like a damn breaking after years of strain. There was no finesse to his kiss, no gentle touches. He kissed her like a drowning man drinking in his final breath, like there would never be enough of her to fill his lungs. It was all lips and teeth and tongue, not a slow exploration but a claiming, as if nothing else existed but this moment and everything depended on it. Lucien released her hands and she tangled them in his hair, pulling him down even closer.

He kissed her until her legs threatened to give out. She felt drunk on him, on this.

And then a loud moan echoed up the stairs from the sitting room, and Lucien laughed against her mouth. Elain had been so lost in him she’d almost forgotten about them.

“What do you think they’re doing?” he murmured.

She knew the drill by now. An answer for a reward. She saw it reflected in Lucien’s gaze, the gleam there like a challenge and a question at once.

Another moan, male this time, followed by the unmistakable sound of skin hitting skin.

“They’re probably…” She trailed off, embarrassed, even now, to say the word. Making love didn’t seem right for what she’d seen, and what she was hearing. “Fucking.”

“You’re learning,” Lucien whispered. “What a good student you are.”

He pressed his hips against her, and Elain inhaled sharply at the hardness pressed against her stomach. She couldn't help but glance down, and the sight of the bulge straining the front of his trousers made her mouth go dry. The room had been dark when she had lost her maidenhead to Graysen, and besides, she had been much too nervous to really look. But she wanted to look at Lucien- look, and touch, and lick every inch of him.

“You’ll have to earn that,” he said, as if reading her mind.

“I answered your question. That means I get a reward.” She hoped her voice sounded less desperate than she felt.

The grin he shot her was nothing short of devilish. “Indeed. Tell me.”

She felt absurd saying it, as if one wrong word and Lucien would laugh and declare that this had all been a game. A tease. A joke.

A mistake.

“Touch me,” she demanded, with as much authority as she could muster.

Lucien groaned, his hips thrusting into her as if he couldn’t help it. She was beginning to think that he might like it when she was irritated.

Another moan trickled up the stairs, and it occurred to Elain how thoroughly exposed they were. Jurian and Vassa could walk up the stairs at any time- although, from the sounds of it, that didn’t seem likely.

Any thoughts of getting caught disappeared from her mind as Lucien’s hand drifted back to her thigh, inching up much slower than she would have liked. When he reached the waistband of her underwear she held her breath, expecting him to slide them down. Instead, his fingers kept going up, over her stomach, up her ribs, until her breast was cradled in his palm.

“Like this?” he asked, squeezing softly. He tweaked her nipple between two fingers and Elain sucked in a breath at the mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Yes,” she said, though it wasn’t enough.

“Yes,” Vassa echoed from downstairs, her moans quickly dissolving into screams.

“She’s a loud one,” Lucien needlessly informed her as he switched his ministrations to her other breast.

Elain wondered how much of it was real and how much was an act. It seemed almost impossible for it to be a genuine reaction. “Why?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. She clamped her mouth shut, feeling idiotic.

Lucien grinned broadly. The gesture made his cheeks crinkle and somehow made him even more handsome. He was so beautiful when he smiled it was almost painful to look at. It made that golden coil tighten even more inside her chest, flooding her with longing and an almost melancholy want for something she had never had, and perhaps never would. She almost wished he would stop.

“Because Jurian knows how to fuck.” He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he said it, as though he expected her to be shocked by his language.

“You seem to have a lot of knowledge on that topic.”

“On what?” he teased. “Jurian? Or fucking?”

He was messing with her. Elain huffed in frustration, but before she could say anything he cut her off.

“Touch yourself.”

She blinked up at him, her pulse increasing. “I answered one of your questions,” he continued with a wicked grin, “now I get a reward.”

Elain squirmed. For some reason she couldn’t explain, touching herself in front of him was so much more embarrassing than letting him touch her.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, little mouse.”

“Don’t call me that!” she snapped.

She was starting to take back what she’d thought about liking this side of him. He was insufferable. Insufferable and cocky and-

“Then prove that’s not what you are. Unless you don’t want to keep playing…” He started backing away from her, and panic made her heart skip a beat. She’d never be able to look him in the eyes after this, so she’d be damned if she didn’t get him to at least touch her before he ran away and disposed of her.

Elain made sure his eyes were locked on hers as she shoved her hand into her underwear. She was so aroused that her fingers glided easily through her slick folds, and a sigh escaped her lips. Lucien’s gaze turned almost predatory.

In a movement too quick for her to follow he yanked her hand out of her underwear and stuck her fingers coated in her arousal into his mouth. The flame in his russet eye intensified, and Elain found she couldn’t quite breathe.

A low groan rumbled deep in his throat. “Gods, Elain.”

He dropped to his knees in front of her as he said it, making her name sound like a plea, or worship.

Elain kept her gaze locked on his as his hands slid up her legs, leaving her skin burning in their wake. When he reached her underwear he locked his fingers around the waistband and then stopped. She wriggled her hips slightly, thinking he was waiting for permission, but still he didn’t move.

“What position do you think they’re in?”

The noises from downstairs were growing louder, the moans breathier, the wet sound of skin against skin echoing sharply in the quiet. Several scenarios flashed through Elain’s mind, but it was difficult to think clearly with Lucien’s mouth so close to her throbbing center. Her knowledge was once again lacking for the question he was asking, but judging from the way Lucien’s fingers were shaking slightly she had a feeling any answer would have been acceptable.

“They were on the floor earlier,” she said lamely, trying to think of something clever to say.

Lucien dragged her underwear down an inch. “Oh?” he prompted.

Elain remembered the ugly pink couch she’d been shown to when she had arrived earlier. A giggle threatened to escape her, despite Lucien kneeling before her and her racing pulse.

“I think she’s on that ugly pink couch,” she said, as confidently as she could.

Her underwear slid down her legs in a cool brush of silk. Elain gulped as Lucien’s eyes snagged in between her legs. The urge to snap her legs shut was almost overwhelming, but then he looked up at her and licked his lips. Her core went molten.

“Tell me more,” he urged, gently pressing her legs apart.

“Um.”

Lucien pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, his gaze never leaving hers. Her knees were shaking with a mixture of overwhelming lust and nervous anticipation, and if it wasn’t for Lucien’s hands on her she might have slid to the floor.

Lucien kissed her other leg, higher this time. If he went any higher he would surely feel the evidence of her arousal, no doubt dripping down her leg. Elain couldn’t remember ever feeling anything even close to this. Lucien’s teeth grazed the soft skin of her thigh, reminding her that she still hadn’t answered him.

“I think she’s kneeling on the couch, holding on the back. And Jurian’s…”

She didn’t have time to finish before Lucien leaned forward and licked a single stripe clean up her center. Elain gasped at the sensation, all other thoughts melting out of her head along with any lingering hesitation.

“Good girl,” Lucien murmured, and then his mouth was on her again.

She didn’t have anything to compare it to, but it was clear Lucien knew exactly what he was doing. He attacked her with his mouth the same way he had kissed her earlier- hungrily, savagely, like there was no time for finesse. She had expected it to feel wet but somehow every broad lick of his tongue felt like a wave of fire spreading through her.

Every cell in her body felt alive, like she was seconds away from bursting. Nothing had ever felt this good, and she didn’t care who heard the wanton noises coming out of her, as long as he never stopped.

He drew her clit between his lips and sucked, and Elain’s knees buckled. Lucien laughed against her, the vibration ripping a low groan from her throat. He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and she gasped at the new angle. Pleasure was coiling tight in her belly, so hot and fast that she thought it might tear her apart.

“Lucien…” It was her turn to say his name like a prayer- or in this case, a desperate plea to not stop.

“That’s right,” he growled. He reached up and kneaded her breast gently, and Elain’s head thumped back against the wall. Her fingers were gripping his hair so tightly she knew it must be painful, but if Lucien cared he certainly didn’t let on.

He slid a finger inside her, and then another, thrusting in and out slowly as he continued to devour her with his mouth. And then his fingers curled inside her, hitting a spot that had her gasping for breath.

“Lucien!” Do that again, is what she meant, but he knew without being told.

He thrust inside her again and again, his tongue keeping time with his fingers as they hit that spot that had her seeing stars. She was going to come undone right here in the hallway, and fought against it, not wanting it to be over.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips grazing her sensitive flesh. “Be a good girl and come for me.”

He clamped his mouth around her and sucked, and she let go. Pleasure tore through her in a hot wave, a ragged cry falling from her lips as her vision exploded in stars. Lucien didn’t let up, groaning against her as he licked and sucked her through her orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Fuck, Elain.” He sounded as lost as she felt, like she was lost at sea and he was the raft keeping her alive.

Her legs were trembling so hard that she started sliding down the wall, but then Lucien’s arms were around her, hauling her to the floor as he stretched out on his back.

“Take that off,” he growled, pushing her nightgown up her body.

Elain slipped the offending garment over her head without a second thought. Lucien’s eyes burned her skin like a brand, melting away any embarrassment she might have felt at her nudity.

“Gods, Elain, you’re so…” He trailed off, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

Elain wanted to lean down and lick his throat, kiss every inch of it like he had hers. She wanted to leave little marks to physically mark him as hers.

Hers.

“Tell me,” Lucien urged. There was a note of urgency to his voice that made her feel wild. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”

One final question in their game, then. His hands drifted towards her breasts and she slid her fingers through his and held his hands there.

What did she want? She wasn’t sure what she would want tomorrow, but tonight-

“You.” Elain forced herself to meet his gaze. It was somehow easier to do so when he was being wicked than when he was soft like this. She wasn’t sure which side of him she liked more, but she suspected she might like all of him, which was more terrifying than anything that had happened tonight.

“I just…”

He didn’t tease her, didn’t prompt her. He just kept staring at her with that mismatched gaze, a soft flame still dancing in his russet eye. On impulse she reached forward and lightly traced his scar, all the way from his brow almost to his jaw. Lucien shivered, his eyes shutting tight as his forehead creased with some emotion she couldn’t read.

She wanted to be able to read it- to know him well enough that she could tell right away what he was thinking. But that would require her to open up just as much, and that was a cliff side she wasn’t ready to step off from. Not until she’d figured out how far she might fall.

Vassa and Jurian’s moans were reaching a final crescendo downstairs. Elain held Lucien’s gaze until their cries faded, resisting the urge to grind against his cock to relieve the ache still burning between her legs. She still felt desperate for him, even though her body was still tingling from the orgasm he’d given her.

“I want you to make me scream that loudly.”

Lucien smirked. “And here I thought you’d be more of a gentle love making type.”

Elain hummed. “I like that too.”

There must have been something written all over her face, or else Lucien was better at reading her than she was him. “But?” he asked.

“But it’s easier to get your heart broken that way.”

Lucien’s mouth fell open in surprise. Elain held her breath, bracing herself for a dismissal or a taunt. He’d say something lurid about fucking having nothing to do with hearts. Whatever seed of madness had started to grow inside her would be trampled, and her heart would be safe.

“Oh, Elain.” He loosed a breath, something about the wicked gleam in his eye making her squirm. “You have no idea how wrong you are about that.”

Before she could react he had stood up and hauled her to her feet in one swift motion. He spun her around, planting hot, wet kisses down her throat as he guided her towards the railing at the top of the stairs. She was putty in his hands, bending forward to lean on the banister as he nudged her legs apart.

There was a soft woosh of fabric as he kicked his pants off, and then his fingers were on her, swirling tight circles around her clit. Elain bit back her moan, thrusting back into his hand to increase the friction. Nothing he did was ever enough. It felt like her own blood was alive with the flame she’d seen dancing in his eye, and his every touch only made her burn hotter.

“Tell me you want me.”

His fingers suddenly stopped, replaced by the feel of his hard, thick cock teasing her entrance. Elain looked over her shoulder at him and nearly whined. Nobody had ever looked as beautiful as he did right then, with his golden skin glowing in the lamp light and his vibrant hair mussed from her ministrations.

“I want you.”

“Good girl.”

With that he slid into her with one long, slow thrust. Elain gasped at the feel of him stretching her, filling her so completely that it seemed their bodies had been made for this.

“Fuck, Elain.” He sounded on the edge of losing that maddening control of his. She wriggled her hips, urging him to move.

“Impatient, are you?”

Elain started to growl in frustration, but it turned into a ragged gasp as Lucien slowly pulled out and then slammed back in. She grabbed onto the banister tighter as he set a wicked pace, thrusting into her to the hilt only to pull out maddeningly slowly. Every pound of his cock inside her had her seeing stars, moans falling from her lips with every thrust.

“They’re probably listening, you know.”

Elain’s eyes fixed on the partially closed door to the sitting room, the occupants of which were suspiciously quiet. It should have bothered her, but she found she couldn’t quite care.

“Good thing I asked you to make me scream.”

Lucien groaned, bringing his hand to her ass in a hard slap. Elain gasped at the sting, and then moaned as Lucien started pounding into her.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice ragged.

“Yes.”

“Louder.”

“YES!”

Her voice echoed embarrassingly loudly down the stairs, but Elain couldn’t have cared less. That delicious pressure was building inside her again, and she chased the feeling, dropping her forehead against her arms gripping the banister.

“Elain…”

From the strain in his voice she could tell he was on the verge of release himself. His fingers were gripping her hips so tightly she knew there’d be fingertip-shaped bruises there in the morning. She pictured Lucien kissing them gently, his hair mused from sleep, and eyes glazed with affection as he looked up at her.

That was all it took to push her over the edge.

She cried out as pleasure exploded through her again, her body seizing with wave after wave of ecstasy. A moment later Lucien gave a choked groan as he spilled himself inside her.

Her vision had barely returned to normal before he turned her around again and gathered her up in his arms. She was too exhausted and too thrilled at the feel of being in his arms to protest about where he was taking her.

He carried her to his room and kicked the door shut before gently placing her on the bed. His scent wrapped around her in a cloud, and she couldn't stop herself from pressing her nose to his pillow and inhaling deeply. Gods, it should be illegal to smell this good.

Lucien chuckled above her. Had she said that out loud? She supposed it wasn’t the most embarrassing admission she’d made tonight.

“Look at me.”

Elain turned back to face him as he hovered over her, bracing himself with one arm as he gently brushed loose tendrils of hair from her face. The gesture was so tender that it made her heart ache.

“Can you promise me something?” he asked.

Her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness of his room, and she couldn’t make out the expression in his eyes. “That depends.”

“Promise you won’t just disappear in the morning.”

There was a raw edge to his voice that felt like a gut punch. Or else, like a gentle shove, edging her closer to that ledge she had so far managed to stay away from.

“It would be impressive if I did, considering I’m in your bed.”

Lucien chuckled. “Bold of you to assume you’re sleeping here tonight.”

“And here I thought you were the chivalrous type. But if you’d rather I go…” Elain made to roll out from under him, laughing darkly when he blocked her path.

“Not so fast.”

“Oh?”

“I have a few more questions for you, you see.”

Elain bit her lip as her blood started heating once more. She had a feeling that in the end she’d be getting very little sleep tonight, and found she didn’t mind at all.

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!): @areyoudreaminof @separatist-apologist @tuzna-pesma-snova @labellefleur-sauvage @corcracrow @autumndreaming7 @octobers-veryown @velidewrites @sunshinebingo @vulpes-fennec @asnowfern @hallway5

[profound-imagination]

Birds of a Feather - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N: Honestly, it's a bit of a mess, visions, switching POV's but I hope you enjoy.

T/W: Angst, Torture, Blood, Fire, Teeth etc.

W/C: 4.1K

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Azriel? How? Elain?” those were the only three words you managed to string together as Cassian stood behind his wife who had just blown your life wide open. “I’m sorry, we all love you, we do, but Elain just fits with him, and someone needed to tell you.” Nesta told you as gently as she could, which, coming from Nesta, your eldest sister, was not very gently at all. You looked to Cassian instead. Cassian who had loved you like a brother, protected you like a brother since he had strolled into the Manor that day with Rhysand and Feyre, with Azriel. “But he fits with me, isn’t that what the bond is?” you had known it was him from the second you had fallen out of the Cauldron, dripping wet and shivering, covered in ice burns.

Nesta had said the Cauldron was scalding, you had experienced the opposite. Cassian was clearly struggling for words as he said, “Even the Mother can be wrong sometimes.” Tears welled in your eyes, “Elain? All this time?” Nesta nodded slowly. “Well, that seems about right, she always was the twin that had to have everything.” You said as you shook the tears from your eyes and straightened your spine. “Don’t do that.” Cassian said a tinge of warning in his tone, and you span on him, “Do what, Cass?” You demanded, “Don’t write yourself off like that.” You scoffed, “I didn’t write myself off, Elain did, Azriel did!” “Azriel did what?” Rhys asked, as if appearing out of nowhere, Feyre less than a step behind him as usual, Nyx in her arms, stretching towards you. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter!” You spat as you took your leave of the roof, completely ignoring your nephew.  

Typical, typical Elain to take yet another thing from you. As twins the two of you couldn’t have been more different, hel you didn't even look the same. No even then, even in the womb she took all the beauty and softness for herself, leaving you with sharp edges and gangly limbs. She was all feminine grace and you, well you just weren’t. You were awkward and clumsy and had no interest in men at all. Well not until a Shadowsinger strolled into your parlour room that fateful day and you had been captivated. You hadn’t been aware men could look like that. Well, he was a Male you supposed, a Fae Male. A completely different league than even the most handsome boy in your pitiful village. You swiped the tears angrily from your face as you stormed unevenly through the House of Wind when a hand grasped your upper arm and span you round. You watched angrily as the rest of the Shadowsinger emerged from his shadows that began to dance around you like you were an old friend they hadn’t seen for centuries. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, death lacing his voice. “Nothing, Azriel, don’t worry about it.” His grip tightened slightly, “Doesn’t look like nothing.” he said through gritted teeth. You yanked your arm out of his grip, “Really, it’s nothing, leave it alone!” you hissed as you stormed away down the hall.  

You barely saw him after that if you could help it. He’d enter a room, you’d leave. He’d show up to start training, you’d finish training. He didn’t seem to notice. Always two steps behind Elain. Elain was a different story. She seemed different these days, shifty. You didn’t trust her much before, but at least you had the weird twin bond back then. It was muted now. A side effect of the Cauldron or of her you weren’t sure. It wasn’t your problem for right now. You had begged Rhys for a task, a job, anything to get you away from Azriel for a while. Away from the constant embarrassment you felt when you looked at him. You had been so clear in your affections and now you just felt like a fool. Rhys had tasked you with going to the human lands, to check in with Lucien and his Band of Exiles so here you were, walking towards the human lands, refusing to be taken. You had just set up camp for the night when a voice on the wind caught your attention.  

Against your better judgement, you followed the voice towards a clearing. You ducked behind a crumbling wall as the voice became louder and became two separate voices. “Lovely Faun, what information have you brought me this time?” A voice older than the earth crooned. “Koschei, master, he still resists.” That was Elain’s voice, but it couldn’t be, not your sister, she would never align herself with Koschei, would she? “I made you girl, you called out in the Cauldron, and I answered. I made you a Seer, more powerful than those who came before you! You then came to me and asked if I could undo it, if I could make you human again and did I not tell you what it would cost?” You peeked over the wall and saw her, your twin, saw her nod. “The Shadowsinger.” She said quietly, “I was to seduce him, to keep him away from my sister before he realised, they are Carranam, what they could do together.” She said, surer of herself now. “You need him for part of your plan.” She finished. Koschei hummed his agreement to what she had said.  

 “Bring him to me, lovely fawn, he will follow you, but it is important it is only him you bring.” Koschei rumbled, “I shall use the singer, brother will fight brother and with that, the only people who could band together against me will fissure and crack, then the world will be mine!” Elain seemed to hesitate by saying, “How do you know he will follow?” Koschei let out a laugh before something invisible gripped you and dragged you towards them. “Because I have something he won’t hesitate to fight for.” Elain gasped at the sight of you. “He doesn’t know why yet, but he won’t hesitate to follow when you tell him I have her but follow and fight he will, for his Mate.” Elain paled, “Mate? You said they were Carranam?!” Koschei laughed again, “They are, Lovely Fawn, Carranam and Mates, it has been an age since our world saw such a pair and they cannot be allowed to connect as such.” His voice was sharp now, as if his patience was running out. “Bring. Me. The. Singer.” He hissed at your twin as you fought against the invisible grip he had on you. She nodded, not even looking at you before she scampered away.  

Koschei finally turned his attention to you, “So we meet at last.” He said, looking you up and down, “I won’t let you use him.” You hissed, he let out an amused hum, “We’ll see about that, Little One.” He said as he turned away from you and then everything went black.  

It took some time for your other senses to come back to you when your vision returned. The room you found yourself in was dank, dark, and smelled of mildew. There was a constant drip drip drip from somewhere you couldn’t identify, and the temperature chilled your bones. If Koschei was trying to use the cold to make you uncomfortable he would fail, not even your blood ran warm these days, not since the Cauldron. You thrived in the cold, which was ironic considering how many years your sisters and you had spent cramped in one bed, shivering, clinging to each other for the slightest modicum of warmth. Icy rage burnt through you when you realised your leathers were gone, replaced by a thin white night gown. “You’re awake.” that ancient voice washed over you. You tried desperately to move, to see him, but you were restrained in one place, arms above your head, locked into place. “Are you ready?” Koschei asked, his voice sounding smug. “Ready for what?” You hissed. He came into your view, “Reconditioning.” He simply said. “I have a question first though,” he continued, “Did you really think the Shadowsinger would choose you? So sharp with all those edges,” he said, looking you up and down distastefully, he had been the one to change your clothes then. “Compared to the Lovely Fawn, what are you?” You didn’t dignify his question with an answer, because truly, he had you there. Who were you compared to Elain? Azriel, despite how he saw himself, was a truly a great Male. He was loyal, kind, caring, he listened, he understood, and he fought to the for those he loved. The only people you had ever heard him speak ill of was his own, the Illyrians. He was beautiful, so much so he could give Rhysand a run for his money. You didn’t deserve him. The Mother and the Cauldron had been cruel to him, to burden him with you.  

Koschei seemed to get fed up of your silence, snapping his fingers in front of your face to bring you back to the present. “Let’s begin, shall we?” before you had time to react, he swiped his hand over your face, your eyes fluttering closed.  

“Y/N.” Azriel greeted in a voice that promised death. “Az? What’s happening?” You asked, panic seizing through your body. “You know what’s happening.” He stated, “You betrayed us to Koschei and now you’re paying for it.” His words were like a physical blow. “No! I didn’t! I would never!” He levelled you with a glare. “So we’re doing this the hard way again today then?” You tried to shake your head, but you were restrained, tied to a table. Fear flooded through you as you realised exactly where you were, his torture chamber, deep below the Hewn City. He was going to destroy you. “Azriel, please, you have to believe me! I didn’t!” He slammed his hands down on the table of weapons he was surveying carefully, the weapons clanging together at the impact. “Do not lie to me!” He snapped, “Cassian is dead! I was made to watch as they held Rhys down and removed his wings! As they took his power from him! I listened as Feyre screamed as they took Nyx from her!” You turned your head to the side as best you could and vomited. “If it wasn’t for Elain we’d have never known who betrayed us, who sent my family to slaughter!” Azriel had sunk so far into himself, so far into that icy rage that you knew there was no getting through to him. His brothers dead and mutilated, his beloved nephew kidnapped. No matter what you said, he was never going to believe it. He was going to cause you pain that no one else could ever be creative enough to come up with. “Please?” You whimpered, a single tear falling down your cheek as he advanced, a wicked blade held in his hand. You couldn’t stop the scream that left your throat as he sliced the points off of your newly fae ears.  

Your eyes came back into focus, pain radiating through you. Koschei was standing infront of you. “Poor little Fae, what did the Shadowsinger do to you?” You closed your eyes at the onslaught of memories that hit you, of the last few hours you had spent with Azriel. Only just the beginning you knew. He’d removed the tops of your ears, pulled teeth and fingernails. Methods you knew were tame for him. He was capable of much much more. But still you fought it, “Wasn’t him.” You croaked; mouth full of blood. “Rest now.” Koschei said gently, “He’ll be back.”  

Azriel had come back, time after time, slowly carving away more parts of you, sinking further into his rage until he was someone you no longer recognised. This was him, the true him, the one who made enemies shudder when he landed on battlefields and emerged from shadows. The Angel of Death. He’d broken you this time. You had nothing more to give and you could no longer weather the storm that Azriel was. “I can help you.” Koschei said that evening, “I can teach you how to fight, fight someone as skilled as him, level the playing field.” You blinked up at him through swollen eyes, “You can?” He hummed, “Yes, Little One, I can.”  

Azriel’s shadows alerted him to someone beelining for his room. Panic, Panic, Panic. They whispered, Azriel pulled Truth Teller from his thigh and positioned himself beside the door. His bedroom door flew open and before whoever had entered could even register what was happening, Azriel had them against the wall, Truth Teller to their throat. “Az!” Elain squeaked. Why hadn’t his shadows told him she was approaching and not a threat? “Elain? What’s wrong?” He breathed, stepping away from her. “It’s Y/N! Koschei has her!” He sprang into action immediately, fighting down the panic that rose in him, the urge to find her as quickly as possible. “You can’t tell the others!” She rushed out, “There’s no time, we need to go now, me and you!” He stopped to survey her for a moment, and she seemed to scramble for the words. “If we show up with Rhys and Feyre, he might act irrationally and kill her on site, you and your shadows can go unseen, and I can see what’s happening!” Azriel surveyed Elain for a couple more seconds before nodding his agreement. He could handle this. He strode over to his armoire, threw open the doors and began selecting his weapons.  

“Do you have a plan?” Elain whispered, creeping along behind him. He stopped and pushed her towards a hidden alcove. “Yes.” He said, his words clipped. “You’re staying here.” He instructed and strode away. Pushing his way through the bushes he surveyed the clearing ahead of him. Empty. He growled to himself, he needed to find her. His shadows were restless, panicking but he didn’t have time to figure out why. “Koschei!” He bellowed into the clearing. “Koschei!” Something barrelled into him from the left, knocking him off of his feet, taking him by complete surprise. The scent hit him before his eyes could recognise who had him pinned and he dropped his hands from their defensive position. “Y/N?” He breathed, relief flooding through him for a brief moment. She was wild. Not a single shred of humanity behind her bruised eyes. Those beautiful eyes which until now still showed her as human, despite the fact she no longer was. Her fists raining down on him, still, he did not lift a hand to defend himself, not as that snap happened inside him and he realised just who was on top of him. His Mate.  

“You have to stop.” He said quietly, surely. “It’s me, its Az, I’m here to take you home.” He told her as her fists continued to rain down upon him. He took in the damage on her face, the damage he was sure that went further than he could see. “No! You will not hurt me again!” She hissed. “I never hurt you, Y/N.” He said quietly. His denial seemed to make her angrier. “Yes, you did! You think I betrayed you all, Cassian is dead! Nyx is gone, Rhys is powerless and wingless! It wasn’t me! You didn’t listen! You never listen! You just kept going!” Azriel had no clue what was happening, but he knew he needed his brothers, so he called for Rhys, despite Elain’s warning.  

“Get up and fight me, Shadowsinger!” She hissed, getting to her feet. “I’m not going to fight you, Y/N.” He told her, his voice even, getting to his feet. “Fight me, you coward!” She yelled, “Or do you not get the same pleasure from it when I'm not tied down and screaming?!” She asked, removing the daggers from her thighs. He didn’t move as she took aim and loosed the dagger in her right hand. A perfect shot, right into the siphon that sat on his chest, he felt the power leave him immediately. “Fight me!” She growled again taking aim a second time and loosing the dagger. It found a home in his shoulder this time.  

Power filled the clearing as Rhys and Cassian arrived. She shuddered under the weight of it. “Turn around, Y/N.” Azriel told her, not taking his eyes from hers. “Turn around and see that Rhys and Cassian are fine.” She took a quick look over her shoulder. “Lies! Tricks!” She snapped. “You’ve been lied to, yes, but not by me.” He told her as she advanced on him. “Y/N!” Cassian called for her, “I’m alive, I'm here, come and see for yourself.” He told her. Before any of them had the chance to react, Rhys was in front of her, wings unfurled, power crackling around the clearing. “Stop this!” He commanded and she fell to her knees under the weight of his power. Azriel was about to let out a relieved breath when fire erupted around her, surrounding her on all sides. “I told her to bring you and you alone, Shadowsinger.” A ancient voice spoke as if it was coming from all angles. The brothers spotted him almost immediately, Elain stood next to him. “You did this?!” Azriel spat at the middle sister, the older twin. “He’s going to give me my life back.” She mumbled. “What was the cost?” Rhys demanded and her glance towards Azriel was the answer. Him. Y/N began to scream then. “I’ll have to improvise now I suppose.” Koschei spoke, “But no matter, the fire will consume her and you’ll be mine, Singer.” He said.  

“Consume her?” Cassian whispered and Koschei let out a humourless laugh, “Oh yes, hel fire, nasty stuff, surrounds you and gets you from the inside out.” Fire, why did it have to be fire? Azriel took one look at his brothers, then looked to his Mate who was still screaming. “I love you, both of you.” He said, hoping the truth of the words shone in his eyes, Rhys clicked on before Cassian did, “Az, don’t-” Rhys didn’t get the chance to finish his words as Azriel took a deep breath and stepped into the fire, stumbling towards his Mate. She would not burn alone.  

All you knew was pain, searing burning pain. You were ready to close your eyes and give up when you saw an angel. He was made of the same fire that was burning you and he was walking towards you, calling your name. He was beautiful. “Have you come to take me?” You asked, the best you could, throat raw from screaming. “Yes love, I’ve come to take you home.” He answered. “Okay.” You agreed, lifting your arms to the angel in a silent plea to be carried. “Make it stop?” You asked him, “I will,” He said, “I’ll make it stop, I promise.” You curled your head into his neck. “My ice is gone, melted.” You said sadly. “I’ll fix it.” Was the last thing you heard him say before the darkness swept in again and you braced yourself to be back on that table in Hewn City.  

When you came to, you weren’t on the table as you expected, but in a plush bed. Nesta watching you carefully from a chair beside your bed. Cassian next to her, nearly in tears as you looked at him. “You aren’t dead? Really?” You choked out, “No, I’m not dead.” He said gently, offering you his wrist so you could feel his pulse and prove to yourself that he was really there. “You think the world would still be standing if he was dead?” Nesta asked, handing you a glass of water, “Try not to move too much, you’re still healing.” She added. “But Azriel said you were dead, that Rhys’s wings and power were gone...” You trailed off as the High Lord appeared before you, wings outstretched, power caressing your mind. “All lies, fed to you by Koschei.” He said. Feyre was next to you, placing Nyx down on the bed with you, “Gently.” She reminded her young son, who went to great lengths to carefully crawl into your lap. “Az never laid a hand on you.” Feyre told you. “He came after you after Elain told him you were gone.” You shook your head. “She lead him into a trap.” Rhys nodded, “We know, and she is confined to her rooms until we figure out the best thing to do with her.” You nodded, “Lucien.” You told them, “She might want to be human still but Koschei has a hold on her as well, maybe its something a Mate can break?” Rhys hummed his agreement, “He’s already on his way.”  

You sat with Nyx for hours, just holding onto the little boy like he was the only thing you could believe was real. Rhys and Feyre had gone to talk to Elain and trusted that Nesta and Cassian would let nothing happen to the little boy. Neither of them had brought up Azriel yet, so you did. “Where is he? Az?” You asked them and the pair shared a look. It was Cassian who eventually said. “He’s in his room, he was hurt.” You gasped, “Did I?!” Cassian shook his head, “You hit him with a couple of daggers but no, not you.” You passed Nyx to him, “What are you doing?!” Nesta demanded as you began to scramble out of your bed, “You’re going to hurt yourself!” You didn’t care, you had to see him. “I need to see him, Nes!” She looked into your eyes and seemed to understand the urgency in them so she nodded, “Let me help you then.” She said, supporting you out of the door and down the hall, “Why are we at the River House?” You asked on the way, “Easier for the healers.” Was all she said.  

Shadows were pouring out of the crack at the bottom of Azriel’s bedroom door as you approached but cleared as you walked towards it, you knocked once and entered, leaving Nesta at the door. Azriel was lying in his bed, covered in bandages, ointments across his bedside. “What happened?” You gasped and his head shot towards you, he winced as he did so. “Y/N! Are you okay?” He asked in a broken voice, “Are you?” You replied. “I’ll be fine.” Was all he said as you continued to take him in. “Az, your wings!” He nodded stiffly. “Fire and I really don’t mix, I guess.” He said, “Fire?” You asked, “Az you hate fire!” He met your eyes as you sat yourself in the chair next to his bed. “I do hate fire, that’s true, but you were in there and I wasn’t leaving you.” Your heart cracked at his words, his biggest fear and he had walked through it for you. “I was on fire? Why don’t I have any burns?” You asked quietly. “Three reasons,” He said, “One, your ice kept you safe, you told me it was gone and that it had melted, that was true, it protected you for as long as it could. Two, I shielded you with my wings. Three, I gave you my blood when we got back here.” A tear slid down your face. “You did that for me?” He nodded. “Why did your blood help?” You asked, “I think you know why.” He responded. “A Mates blood.” You murmured and he nodded again. “Why didn’t you take any of mine? To heal you?” He went quiet for a minuet and took a deep breath. “Feyre suggested it. Said you would be fine with it, but you were so convinced I had hurt you, tortured you, I wouldn’t allow it. I’ll heal well enough.” You shook your head. “Take it now! It wasn’t you, I know it wasn’t!” You stood and walked over to his desk. You picked up Truth Teller and walked back over, slicing your palm as you sat. “Drink Az, I know you’re in pain, I can feel it, everything else we can talk about later.” He hesitated before taking your palm and bringing it to his lips and drinking deeply. He used that same hand to pull you into the bed next to him, groaning as he did so. “We can talk about everything else when we wake up, rest now.” He said, tucking your head under his chin. “Okay.” You murmured, eyes growing heavy. “Az?” he hummed for you to continue. “Never walk through fire for me again.” You told him. “I’d walk through fire every day for the rest of my life for you.” He said quietly as you drifted off to sleep. 

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 12: The band of exiles /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Azriel finally arrive at the Manor after sharing a intimate moment at the lake.

Word Count: 2,1K

Warnings: Smut!

Notes: Heheheheheh sex

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

His lips were soft and warm, fitting perfectly against hers. He had caught her by surprise and it had taken her a minute to process what was happening before she leaned in against him, moving her lips in synchrony with his. She licked his lower lip, prompting him to open his mouth, her tongue invaded, as they battled for dominance. 

Her iron nails found their way to the nape of his neck, scratching slowly the skin, causing goosebumps to erupt in his body. She whimpered when his hand grabbed a handful of her flesh, squeezing her ass and pulling her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and Azriel started to guide them back to the shore. 

He laid her on the soft parts of dark sand surrounding the lake, his knee in between her thighs as he kept kissing her. His cock throbbed with anticipation to be inside her, and by the arousal soaking his knee, he could tell that she was eager too. His mouth kept kissing down to the vale of her breasts, circling her nipple with his tongue, flickering until she was a whimpering and squirming mess beneath him.

He parted her legs with his own, his hand sneaking down. He sunk two fingers easily inside her, the wetness there allowing him to do it without hurting her. She moaned, arching her back and pushing her breasts further inside his mouth, making him moan as well. He was consumed by her, her scent, her taste and her sensation at the tips of his fingers, he never wanted to leave. 

He curled his finger inside her, hitting that spot that had her seeing stars, while his thumb moved around in circles on her clit. She clenched her legs around his hand, cursing as he kept his slow pace, driving her more hungry by the second.

“Fuck Azriel, faster.” She breathed and it was the most obscene and beautiful sound he had ever heard, he wanted to hear her moaning his name forever. As the good male he was, he obliged her orders, mouthing at her nipples in synchrony with his fast fingers pumping in and out of her slopping cunt. 

The pleasure was a stretched band ready to snap, it was years since she properly had one. So she allowed that feeling to sink in, moaning loudly his name while the orgasm washed over her like a summer night breeze, making her body shake and her head fall back, hitting the sand. 

Her walls clenched on him, caging his fingers inside of her, he smirked at that, pulling them out and popping them into his mouth, licking the sweet remnants of her orgasm from his index and middle finger. 

“I need to be inside you, can I?” He asked, aching to be inside her, she looked at him, those deep eyes impossible darker, like a raging sea. She pushed him, using her legs to turn him around, hovering on top of him. She was still panting, recovering from her orgasms when she aligned his cock with her entry, sinking down in a swift motion. 

Azriel gasped at the sudden contact with her, breathing heavily as she started to rock her hips back and forth, her clit bumping against his pelvis as she rode him. A unholy sight it was, she riding him, her eyes squeezed shut, her breasts bouncing with the movement of her hips, hair glued to her forehead and some droplets of sweat running down her plush abdomen. She was a goddess. His personal goddess and certain ruin. 

He cummed hard, shooting white stripes of hot cum inside her, she kept riding him, reaching her own release again, his cum sliding down his cock, making messily easier for her to rock her hips and cum again, her walls clenching around him and milking every last drop of his spent.

She collapsed on top of him, trying to catch her breath. The best sex she had in years and that’s for sure. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She and Azriel rested for the rest of the day, sharing the tent and some more intimate moments before  they both fell asleep, the tiredness from riding Meraxes all night finally weighing down on them. 

It was the middle of the night when they finally reached the manor, the wyvern roaring loudly to announce their arrival, Lucien quickly walking outside to greet them. Azriel got down carrying the bags, while Y/N slides down Meraxes’ leg, pulling Lucien in for a hug.

“Welcome to my home.” He said, a smile plastered across his face. “Azriel.” he greeted with a dip of his chin, while Azriel nodded his head back at him. “Jurian and Vassa are inside.” 

He guided the way towards a spacious living room. The two coaches were occupied by a male, brown hair, pale skin and brown eyes, he looked at her curiously. The other one was occupied by a beautiful woman with red hair, she had a smile gracing her lips.

“Jurian, Vassa.. This is Y/N.” Lucien introduced and she nodded her head to them. “You already know Azriel.” 

“So you are the brave little things that will end Koschei?” Vassa joked and Y/N raised an eyebrow, the motion drawing the attention to her scar, making her flinch a bit.

“Something like that.” She shrugged. “Lucien said you might help.” Vassa leaned on the couch.

“Is that so?” The male by her side silently nodded. “Then let’s have a talk while I still can.” She got up. 

The woman motioned for Y/N to follow her, going to the back of the house, towards the greenhouse that stood proudly in the yard. Various flowers and plants filled the moonlit space, their smells oddly good together, like they were selected by hand to complement each other. 

“So..” The redhead leaned against one of the tables, her blue eyes scanning Y/N’s figure up and down. 

“You tell me, you met the monster in person, not me.” The queen smiled, liking her fierce personality. 

“He presents himself as a human, everything about him seems normal on the surface, but what lies underneath, it's something with immense power.” She took a deep breath. “I was sold by the other queens to him, he promised them power in exchange for a perfect Guinea pig.”

“What did he need you for?” She inquired and Vassa shrugged. 

“He never told me, all he said was that he needed to do some research and testing on me, he bound me to the lake with him, a queen by night and a firebird by day.” Y/N felt her skin grow tighter with tension.

“What use does someone like him have to a firebird?” Vassa shrugged again. 

“I have no idea, but he made sure that I could never harm him, I can’t use my fire on him.” Y/N took a deep breath, the engines on her head working fast. “But he made me test in other things, monsters he created to see if they could survive the fire.”

If Koschei was truly a Valg, as she suspected, this made sense, he was trying to find a way to prevent getting killed, in a land full of fae with fire magic, it was only logical to protect himself from it, knowing how dangerous it was for his kind. But creating things? The only one who could create things was Erawan himself, only a Valg king could. The room temperature dropped to a few degrees and she started to shiver, it could be worse than she expected. 

“What colour are his eyes?” She dared to ask, Vassa raised an eyebrow clearly confused before answering. 

“Gold.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her head was pounding, too many thoughts at once, too many stories shared in a fireplace late at night, too many whispers shared in secret, all of them clashed and collapsed on top of her, but they all stated the same. 

“The witches with golden eyes were considered lucky and rare, having gotten this trait from their Valg blood, a reminder that they come from a strong lineage, a King’s lineage.” 

Azriel watched as she emerged from the bathroom in their shared chambers, a dark expression coating her frowning face. She finished getting ready for sleep, having come upstairs from her talk with Vassa silent as the dead. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, grabbing her hand as she sat on the bed, rubbing circles in her palm with his thumb.

“Everything is so overwhelming now, my head is a mess.” He pulled her closer by the waist, until her head was resting against his chest and she took a deep breath of him, his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar calming her nerves. 

“Let’s organise what we know.” He instructed and she nodded, scooting away just a little so she could look at him. 

“When Erawan crossed to Erilea, Elena was too weak to kill him, so she had to seal him in a coffin, which wasn’t the best idea as we paid the price centuries later.” Azriel nodded, encouraging her to keep going. 

“Someone bound Koschei to that lake, as he’s too strong to be killed.” 

“We don’t know who did it, but it was a long time ago.” Y/N nodded, lost in thought. 

“We have a wyrd gate atop Ramiel, and Koschei most certainly has a key to it.” Azriel cleared his throat. 

“Maybe that’s why he wants to free himself from that lake, so he can open it.” Y/N nodded.

“Could be.” She rubbed her temples. “Open the gate to the Valg dimension, to bring an army and conquer Prythian. That was what Erawan wanted to do, bring his little family to Erilea so they could enslave all of us.” 

“Family?” Azriel inquired.

“Erawan was the youngest of three brothers, three Valg Kings, the strongest of their kind.” Azriel swallowed past the lump on his throat. “This would make sense with the information that he was creating things, as Erawan was responsible for creating the rings and the collars that allowed valgs to possess humans. He also created the wyverns and other atrocities.”

“Do you think he was responsible for the ridderak?” She looked at him worried. 

“There was no other one who could do it besides me. We still don’t know who the Ridderak was after.” 

“It might be someone with immense power.” Azriel started to process all that information. 

“I was thinking about Rhysand, I can feel how powerful he is.” Azriel shook his head. 

“But what if he wanted more power?” Y/N stayed silent, letting him lead the conversation. “There’s only one thing that’s more powerful than Rhys in Prythian.” 

“What?” She inquired. 

“The cauldron.” Azriel’s expression faltered. “We both know someone who took more power from the cauldron than it was willing to give, someone who was cauldron blessed and could use its powers.”

“Who?” 

“Nesta.” It could only be it, he wanted Nesta to use her powers. “He thinks he can free himself from that lake if he has her powers, the cauldron powers.” 

“Fuck, we need to keep her as far away from him as we can, let her know she’s in danger. If she’s what he truly wants, he won’t stop.” Azriel could only agree with it. 

“I’ll send a letter to them later. What else do we have?” She seemed to think for a bit. 

“He’s using Vassa to create a fire resistant army.” 

“Why would he need that?” Azriel asked, confusion laced his beautiful features. 

“Valgs can only be killed by fire or by a very powerful healer. Fire is quicker. And if I’m not mistaken you guys have lots of people with fire abilities.” Azriel scoffed. 

“A whole fucking court.” He jolted from his seat. “Maybe that’s it, that’s why Beron is working with him, so he can keep autumn from attacking him while he conquers Prythian. That fucker.” 

“We can deal with whoever Beron is later.” She waved her hands in dismissal. “If the information we have so far is correct, we’re not dealing with a simple Valg.”

“No?” He scratched his head.

“Koschei is a fucking Valg king.” She spat the words. “His powers, his creations, his gold eyes, that only the kings are described to have… Looks like I’ll finally meet one of Erawan’s brothers after all.” She laughed bitterly. 

“It won’t happen again.” Azriel promised. 

“Oh it won’t, we know what we’re dealing with now, we’re going to kill the asshole.” She gritted her teeth, feeling the anger bubbling inside of her, she wouldn’t let it happen anywhere else, not again.

“You should rest, I’ll send a letter to Rhys and we can talk to Lucien later.” She nodded, watching as Azriel got up and grabbed a piece of paper. 

Her body felt heavy and her mind agitated, everything was too much to handle, so when slumber put her away, she didn’t fight against it. The only problem was that she was stuck in a nightmare where Azriel was taken from her by Valg kings and vingative ex lovers. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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[scorpioriesling]

Mr. Ro...Mantic?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Tamlin x reader

Warnings: fluff … ish?

Summary: When the High Lord of the Spring Court's best friend and emissary drags him to the Summer Solstice festival, he is anything but excited to go. In an attempt to restore his happiness, Lucien thinks this might be an opportunity for Tamlin to put himself out there again and get out of the Manor for once -- and thank the Cauldron, he did. It literally, could not have gone better.

SR’s Note: This is just kind of, um, cutesy? Idk. Enjoy!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Lucien was sick, sick of watching his best friend mope around day in and day out around the Manor. It’d been months since everything happened; the war, everything with Hybern, Feyre…

“I’m perfectly fine.” He’d always snap whenever Lucien dared press him on it. Prythian had already been rebuilding, Lucien taking on so many roles and belonging to more courts than he could count. He was feeling better about his friendship with Feyre, after their little spat at Winter Solstice; but it still didn’t change that his best friend, his friend that held that title for centuries prior to Feyre’s arrival, was indeed not well. Lucien new he could visit Elain as many times as he’d like; he could bring as many reports as Rhysand asked of him; hell, he could drink as many nights as he could handle with his newfound band of exiles.

But, none of that would help his friend that needed him the most right now.

“Tamlin?” Lucien called, entering the manor through the large front doors and strolling into the foyer. He wasn’t suprised to see dust still collected on the varying surfaces in the space, but was pleased to hear the sound of food steps approaching from the hallway to the left.

“Hello,” Tamlin greeted, emerging from the dim hallway. Lucien forced a smile, despite his disappointment. He was happy to see his friend, of course — but not the state he’d sunk so far into. His hair had grown so long, and he hadn’t bothered to shave in weeks. His crumpled shirt didn’t do him any favors either.

Lucien cleared his throat. “I um, I just wanted to stop in and extend you an invitation.” Tamlin’s face didn’t falter, the same blank expression remaining.

“I was planning on attending the Summer Court’s festival tomorrow, and I was hoping maybe you’d come?” Lucien continued. A small smirk formed on Tamlin’s lips, one Lucien had seen all too many times to know it didn’t contain any humor.

He loosed a breath after a few long beats of silence and awkward eye contact. Lucien shifted on his feet. “No thanks.” Tamlin broke the eye contact first, peering down at the floor. Lucien rolled his eyes hard, stepping toward his friend and placing a hand on his shoulder. Tamlin looked back up at him incredulously.

“Tam, look. I mean really. Look, at you. You haven’t left this place in months! You’re deteriorating. You’re absolutely ruining yourself, my friend. Wouldn’t it be nice to, I don’t know, get out for once?” Lucien’s eyes search Tamlin’s hopefully, and for a moment he sees a flash of what looks like consideration in them.

“No. I don’t.” Tamlin moves to turn away, and Lucien throws his hand up in frustration. Tamlin, caught off guard, halts his movements.

“I don’t know what to do with you man! Can’t you humor me for once? I mean it’s been months since you let Feyre go-“

“Don’t you fucking bring her into this. I don’t have anything to do with her anymore.” He bites out. Lucien stares at him wide eyed, taking this as an opportunity.

“Okay…. so you’re over it. But… it was nice having her here? Just, having someone to share your time with?” He says gently. Tamlin runs a hand through his hair, sighing and looking at the floor again.

“Yeah. Yeah it was, Lucien. Real nice until I fucked it all up.” Lucien walks closer once more, offering a small smile when Tamlin meets his eyes.

“So, come with me tomorrow. Get out there again, my friend. Don’t fuck it up this time.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧

Tamlin had to admit; he looked good. Felt good, too. Lucien brought him new clothes, and took him by the small barber shop in the court square the following morning to get a haircut before the festival that evening. He did take it upon himself to shower that morning; a long one, at that. He had a lot to think about, and he hadn’t been out in quite some time. There was a lot riding on tonight.

“Now, I know you haven’t been out in quite some time,” Lucien drawled, mimicking Tamlin’s thoughts. They walked through the hallways of the manor toward the front entrance, as the midday sun shone through the windows and onto the marble floor below. Dust danced in the golden streams of light. Gods, he thought. I really do need to clean up around here.

“But you needn’t worry! I’ll be there the whole time.” Lucien clapped a hand on his friends shoulder, leaning in close. “That is, unless your eyes find a lovely lady and you make other arrangements…” Tamlin looses a chuckle, Lucien reciprocating the sentiment. It felt good, genuine laughter again with an old friend. Tamlin felt a pang of guilt for all the times he snipped at Lucien just for trying to coax him out of this rotting hole he dug himself so deep into.

Once the two approach the doors to the manor and push them open, they peer out and to the expanse of the court they had called home beyond. Lucien motions outward with a hand. “Shall we?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧

The sun was a half-circle along the ocean’s horizon when the pair arrived at the Summer court for the festival. Though it seemed late to the High Lord of the Spring court (who wasn’t used to coming to such things), this was only the beginning of the fun-filled evening to come.

Between walking and winnowing, Tamlin felt a bit worn from the use of his power. He hadn’t needed to use it in quite some time, and with his refusal to partake in the past Calanmai, his stamina wasn’t as up-to-par as it used to be. Glancing to his side, Lucien seemed to be keeping in shape, whatever he’d been doing to hone his powers sure was working as he didn’t even break a sweat.

“Alright, so I believe the way this works is that there are celebrations along the beach, and some activities through the towns?” Lucien explains. Tamlins eyes drop to the sand-dusted cobblestone road when two Summer court females pass by, eyeing him in suprise and quieting their tone as they neared. He couldn’t help but feel… embarrassed.

“Lucien, I’m not sure if coming here was the best idea.” He admits, scratching his jaw. The short sleeved silk shirt he donned was indeed a good choice, as the warm air was causing Tamlin a bit of discomfort. That, or maybe his anxiety was causing his hands to clam up. Either way, he was feeling warm, jittery, and… out of place.

“Hey,” Lucien said, stopping his pace and turning to his friend. Tamlin stopped too, realizing his hands were tightly clamped into fists at his side. Lucien offered a warm smile, and jerked his head to the sandy beaches that looked a little less crowded than the town.

“Let’s get you a drink, yeah?” Tamlin nodded, and Lucien chuckled, motioning for him to follow. Sand squished beneath the flat planes of his sandals as they waded toward a small wooden hut in the sand, and Tamlin glanced around at the varying people gathered near the center of it.

Lucien approached the bar first, sliding close to a girl in a pink sundress with long, caramel colored hair. She looked to him when they touched, and gasped in suprise, offering a small hug. Ugh. He always had such a way with women.

“Lucien! I didn’t know you’d made it!” She beamed. Her face looked vaguely familiar as Tamlin leaned into the bar on Lucien’s opposite side.

“Only just a few minutes ago,” he replied. She smiled up at him, his arm still around her waist. Then it hit him. That was definitely his mate. Lucien turned to Tamlin, who was now focused on the back of the bartender’s head.

“Tamlin, you’ve met Elain before, right?” He asked. Tamlin turned, pretending to see her for only the first time that evening.

“Yeah! Yeah. Of course. Nice to see you. Again.” He said. Gods, she looked so much like Feyre. No wonder he’d found her familiar.

She offered him a polite smile. “You too.” She kissed Lucien’s cheek, and Tamlin sighed. Before he could pretend to not look again, he felt a tiny tap on the back of his elbow. He turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse and then fully turning to face you.

You stood in silence for a moment, mouth parted and eyes wide as you took in the most handsome male you’d ever seen. He was doing the same, eyes raking over your body and catching on your lips for a moment before returning to meet your gaze. You blinked once, twice, trying to remember what you were doing over here in the first place.

“Oh um… I’m so sorry, um…” you stammer. The corner of his mouth tilts upwards, and you catch a glimpse of his lovely white canines. You can feel your face hot with embarrassment.

“I was just wondering if you ordered yet, I…” Tamlin crossed his strong arms over his chest, a smirk taking over his lips. He took a step to the side, clearing a space for you at the bar. He held out a motioning hand for you to step up, so you did, opting to close your fumbling mouth. Lucien’s eyes glanced to you; then to Tamlin in question as you replaced his friend’s position against the bar. The questioning didn’t go on very long, as the two shared a knowing look moments later.

The bartender took note of the empty space before you on the counter and walked over to you, first asking and preparing a drink for Lucien. He slid to you next, and within moments you felt body heat very close to you from behind.

“What’ll you have, Miss?” He asks.

“Mai Tai, please. Strong,” you say. He nods, glancing above your shoulder. “And for you, sir?” You crane your neck, the tips of blond hairs tickling your nose as Tamlin’s arms move to cage you in to the countertop. He leans in close so the bartender can hear him.

“Whatever she’s having!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧

“Andddd, over here we have the shell art studio,” you say. The sun had dipped a bit more, and from the very first drink Tamlin had clung to you like a cloth drenched by the ocean. His friend was happy to let him go; “Have fun, brother!” he’d said. His pretty female friend smacked him on the chest for that one.

You now walked along the sidewalk in the Summer town, pointing out some of your favorite booths and tents that you’d frequent when the Summer festival would occur each year. The sun was dipping low beyond the skyline, the last remnants of it painting your new friend’s portrait beautifully in the pink and golden hues.

“Oh! There is the pineapple ice bar! I can’t believe they’re still here…” you say excitedly. Tamlin looks down at you, noting every freckle on your joyous little face as your cheekbones rise in excitement.

“Well… if it’s as good as you’re making it out to be… we must try some, shouldn’t we?” He requests. Your mouth drops in shock, and you grasp his bicep.

“You’ve… never had… pineapple ice?” You ask, mouth open. He shakes his head, lips thinning to a flat line. “I’ve never really toured the Summer court, remember? You asked me earlier if I knew how to make a sandcastle?” He replies. You furiously shake your head, groaning and grasping one of his hands in yours.

“Okay — we’re getting this to try, just as a starting point,” you explain. Tamlin nods, trying to ignore the fireworks in his mind from your touch. “But, when you come back to visit, I’m giving you the grand tour, we’ll see everything, I promise!” You hiccup, and Tamlin chuckles. You’re pulling him toward the booth, the few drinks causing the two of you to more or less stumble your way there instead. When you let go of his hand, he sighs a little — only in his mind.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧

“Okay, so, my turn… can you surf?” You ask. The booze has kicked in full swing now, and you have retired with your new companion to a large blanket by one of the hundreds of mini bonfires littering the outstretch of coastline. Upon your suggestion to get to know eachother better, you’ve begun to ask eachother random questions.

“Y/N…” Tamlin chuckles, placing his spoon back into his mostly-empty pineapple ice cup. “I told you I’m not from here, remember?” A laugh bubbles from deep in your chest, and you let it out, causing Tamlin to laugh with you. His wonderful white smile shines bright like the stars overhead.

“I am soooo rediculous!” You say in between your giggles. You set your empty cup down next to you, and Tamlin looks at you sincerely. He mimicks your movements, setting his cup down and then reaches to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You blush, and pretend the colorful explosions just from his touch aren’t there.

“I don’t think you’re rediculous.” He says softly. You grin at him, leaning closely and he chuckles again. He’s laying on his side, head propped up in one hand and you’re sitting cross-legged next to him.

“Mmmm andddd what do you think of me?” You ask. His brow raises, and he stares deep into your eyes. He feels a tightening in his chest, trying his best to be suave with his flirtatious attempts. If only it came so easily to him as it did to Lucien…

“I think you’re … lovely,” he says. You giggle, and he inches closer. “Very, very funny,” another inch. Your breath catches, as he pretends to not be so nervous this close to your lips. “And a very good… tour guide!” His hand flicks his spoon at your nose, landing pineapple ice atop the small slope. You squeal, and his fingers find your ribs, sending you fluttering onto your back as you squirm and laugh under his wiggling touch. In an instant his face is hovering over yours, mossy eyes vibrant with delight and peering into yours. His fingers eventually stop moving, finding purchase on your hips just above your low waisted jean shorts. He holds firm as his tongue flicks out, slowly licking the melting pineapple ice from the tip of your nose. You stare at him, wide-eyed before furrowing your brow and placing a hand over his.

“Tamlin,” you say gently. He smiles softly at you, loving how his name sounds in your voice. He tries not to fall in love right then and there; it didn’t feel this good, this right the last time.

“Who… why… I don’t understand why I don’t know you. How, I don’t know you. How I haven’t met you until just now?” You say. Your words only slip together slightly, as his fingers delicately trace circles on your exposed skin below your tank top.

He lets out a small sigh, his expression going solemn. “I don’t think you’d want to know the real me.” He turns to look toward the water, shame flooding his mind when he remembers what and who he still is. Memories of Feyre, everything he’d done and messed up and how he would probably do that again. He wouldn’t change; she made it known that he couldn’t. He still believed it.

Your brows draw together, fingers caressing his cheeks and turning his face to look at you once more. His mouth is only an inch or two from yours, and you’re almost sharing breath at this point.

“What if I do?” You ask, eyes searching his in desperation. His expression softens as those terrorsome memories fade, eyes lining with silver. You smile at him, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. His hand holds yours in his against his face, and you use the other to finally pull him into you, sparing him from making a move he didn’t know you’d be ready for.

The syrupy sweet pineapple remnant kiss sent tethers of electricity through you; the warmth of his mouth on yours heating you from your head to your toes. His hand moves to cup your face, tangle in your hair — and yours pulls him closer by his (very soft) shirt collar. His heart beat is loud, pounding against where your chests touch. His fingers dance up and down your exposed skin and graze under the hem of your tank top while his tongue briefly swipes over your bottom lip before he pulls away. You open your eyes to look at him, a cheeky grin over taking your face when he grins down at you.

Behind his head, you catch sight of a shooting star and gasp. “Tamlin!” You whisper. He turns slightly, then fixes his gaze on you again. “Tamlin it’s a shooting star — you make a wish on those, you know? I don’t know how they do it back where you’re from, but here—“

His mouth presses against yours again, this time no question in his mind if he’s doing the right thing or not. You can’t help but melt into his touch, into him; only pulling back to catch your breath.

“Darling, I’d only wish for you.”

[fuckyeselucien]

Creator Highlight #8 - @crazy-ache

Welcome back to Elucien Creator Highlights!! We want to take a moment to recognize the amazing individuals in our fandom who kindly use up so much of their free time and creative energy to share their work with us!

Today we'd like to highlight @crazy-ache. You've likely seen her drabbles floating around the tags, but have you read any of her elucien fics? Truly pure excellence, @crazy-ache has the ability to say so much with one well crafted, elegant sentence. Not to mention (just kidding, let us scream it from the rooftops), @crazy-ache is the master of elucien angst.

On top of her delightful talent, @crazy-ache has cultivated a reputation for being thoughtful and kind in the fandom. New folks often find themselves on her blog, reading her elucien thoughts and being offered a friendly welcome into the space.

Check out some of our favorites, or go to her blog HERE for more wonderful content!

Beasts Inside Us:

“If you so much as spill a drop of her blood, I will gladly show you just what kind of beast I am. And you will find, once I’ve ripped your throat out with my bare hands, and burnt this manor and everyone inside to ash and bone, that I am something far, far worse than just a beast.”

While staying in the mortal lands with the Band of Exiles, Elain Archeron stumbles across a familiar face from her past. Only Graysen wants revenge. Her only hope is that her mate, Lucien Vanserra, can save her—in more ways than one.

Call Me Selfish, Call Me Wrecked:

Like countless times before, they’re dangling Elain in front of him without a mention of her name. And for once, Lucien decides to selfishly take it. “I’ll marry her,” he pretends to investigate his nails, even if his heart is about to burst from his chest. “But only if she agrees to it as well. That’s my only condition.”

Elain agrees. Lucien learns the consequences of not shutting up.

bet on me:

Elain is caught sulking at her sister's mating ceremony. Lucien wagers a drinking game to prove who knows the other best.

“Go on. Tell me all about myself, Lucien Vanserra.”

And there is the matter of something charged sitting between them at the table. He was challenging her. An invitation for friction, a consideration to be included in the joke, a bid to entwine in something deliciously improper. Elain could not remember the last time anyone had offered her anything remotely tantalizing.

-

Want to nominate someone? Fill out the form HERE

[erisweekofficial]

We're so pumped to be highlighting the ICONIC @daycourtofficial!

You may know her from her gingerfucker series, a collection of Eris x Reader fics that have blossomed into an entire empire. 👀

Read all of her Eris fics here, but be sure to check out her favorite - Amber eyes looking into mine 🧡 Pro-tip: bring some tissues. Seriously though, we are so lucky to have her in the fandom! Thank you for feeding all of us Eris fuckers lovers.

Read on to learn the origins of the gingerfucker empire and more about what @daycourtofficial thinks about Eris's role in the Night Court's future!

What is the origin of your iconic gingerfucker empire?

It’s actually really funny because gingerfucker started as part of a celebration week I did. I wanted to write different genres because I usually only wrote fluff, so I was trying to branch out. I wanted to include a hurt/comfort fic and I was like well who better for this than the sad ginger man with lots of trauma? I actually made a poll about it and everyone wanted Eris to be comforted but instead the first fic I wrote was ‘I am ash from your fire’ where gingerfucker is in Autumn because Rhysand banished her from Night after discovering their secret. People really liked that first fic and I think I got some asking if I’d write more and within a week or two I had written two more fics (‘Starfall in Autumn’ and ‘Laborious Anxieties’) and from there people were really invested once I brought in the element of them having kids (the gingersnaps).

How do you see Eris's role in the Night Court's future?

I see Eris as a loose ally in the future. He won’t blindly do anything the Night Court asks, but I see him having a similar role to Thesan where he will question motives/plans, but ultimately do what he thinks is best for the people of Autumn/Prythian. I think he’ll have the strongest ties with Feyre and Nesta.

What's your favorite Eris fic that you've written and Why?

I have two answers - one is a fic I’ve posted and one is a fic I’ll (hopefully) have finished for Eris Week. I have a fic for Eris Week that details the events immediately after ‘I am ash from your fire’ where Eris has to set all of his plans in motion to kill Beron. I really liked writing this fic - I made some Autumn Court lore, I brought in unnamed brothers, Eris sits on the pink couch in the Band of Exiles manor. As far as posted fics, I love ‘Amber eyes looking into mine’. I like seeing Eris have to deal with his trauma. By this point Beron has been dead for a few years, but Eris finds an old document of Beron’s and it causes him to have a panic attack and spiral. In the fic, Atlas is about a year and a half old and he finds Eris and he shocks Eris from his panic attack. I liked playing with longterm effects of being able to process trauma and how sometimes you can’t process it until you’re safe from it, and I also enjoyed showcasing that while children aren’t meant to heal their parents, they can inadvertently help just by existing and loving their parents.

Please give us a name for one of Eris’s Brothers.

Alastor

Please give us a name for one of Eris's Dogs.

Clover

[my-acotar-thoughts]

About the Autumn Court…

I swear, there is so much drama in the Autumn Court, it could be its own series!

Beron desperate to keep his power and respect using fear and underhanded tactics.

Eris, the tortured eldest son, playing the role of the ruthless villain in everyone’s stories for survival and to one day hopefully take the crown from his evil father.

The mystery of the Lady of Autumn’s past and her love affair with Helion, High Lord of the Day Court. We don’t even get this woman’s name! What is her name, Sarah! Tell me!!!!

Lucien. Literally everything about him could make a story. His time with the Band of Exiles. His past with Jesminda. His time when it was just him and Tamlin as best bros living in a manor together for centuries before the curse. His entire childhood and dynamic with his birth court! He is main character material! Plus also a little curious about his relationship with Andras cause with how devastated he was over his death, I have a feeling Lucien, Tamlin, and Andras were like best bros at one point.

Eris and Lucien’s 5, well now 3, unnamed brothers! All we know about them is when they act like Eris’s henchmen! Give me more detail! Also if High Fae give birth so little, why the heck is the Autumn Court’s royal family so big?! Poor LoA! You know that probably wasn’t easy on her given how cruel Beron is.

What’s the political landscape in Autumn like in general? The political drama alone would be juicy. Watching nobles and courtiers falling over themselves to stay in Beron and Eris’s good graces. The alliances and enemies!

[crazy-ache]

Beasts Inside Us (Elucien Oneshot)

Title: Beasts Inside Us

Rating: E (for Smut and Violence)

Pairing: Elain x Lucien

Summary:

“If you so much as spill a drop of her blood, I will gladly show you just what kind of beast I am. And you will find, once I’ve ripped your throat out with my bare hands, and burnt this manor and everyone inside to ash and bone, that I am something far, far worse than just a beast.”

While staying in the mortal lands with the Band of Exiles, Elain Archeron stumbles across a familiar face from her past. Only Graysen wants revenge. Her only hope is that her mate, Lucien Vanserra, can save her—in more ways than one.

LINK TO AO3

[oristian]

Anything that Vassa can offer the narrative, the reader can easily learn from Lucien, or Elain. The only difference would be her internal monologue and personal feelings. Her past, her current living situation, updates on her sisters, et cetera., can easily be told through Lucien’s POV. Information on Koschei and lore surrounding him can be traced to Elain’s visions and research done leading up to the inevitable confrontation.

SJM would not write a book that would not sell, and a Vassien book would not sell. The reader does not have any emotional ties to Vassa in the same way they do to Lucien and her POV would fall flat compared to him. Vassa is not able to leave the Nolan’s manor at this time due to Koschei actively wanting her back. The majority of her POV would involve her shifting forms and her feelings regarding that, living in the manor, and dealing with the Band of Exiles—which can easily be told through Lucien’s POV.

Lucien would have just been rejected—mind you, in a book that did not also include his POV, which is also a clue that a rejection will not happen—in the previous book and is now grappling with both his feelings of guilt for Jesminda, and the emotional and mental aftereffects of being rejected by his mate. Lucien is also dealing with a plethora of plot points, such as finding out that Beron is not his father, but Helion is. Lucien is also going to be dealing with his feelings of displacement, of Tamlin, his own inner thoughts of himself, Koschei, but will somehow also find time to fall in love with a mortal woman?

Elain is only tied to the Koschei plot, similarly to Lucien. She introduced the reader to that plot arc and will complete it. The glory of defeating Koschei will go to Elain, not Vassa. Vassa is purely used as a means of connection to Koschei to drive the plot forward, not to be a significant love interest.

[ennawrite]

Imagine if Nesta actually got banished to the human realm in ACOSF and she shacked it up with the Band of Exiles.

One day she sees Lucien down in the dumps over his mate and takes it upon herself to give him some advice.

Nesta, *takes a swig of her wine*: “Listen Lu…Can I call you Lu?”

Lucien, *mumbling under his breath*: “no…”

Nesta: “Well, Lu, ya gotta move on buddy. I know Elain better than anyone else•. Trust me. And she’s not into all of that hubbub. This whole mating nonsense is just ridiculous. Personally, I’ve been ignoring my own feelings and mate for months and I’ve been doing fantastic.” *takes another swig from her glass*

Lucien: “Y—You literally got kicked out of a whole court. 😑”

Nesta: “Uh huh. And who am I living with now? Three gods damn exiles.” *looks around pointedly at the manor that Vassa has taken upon herself to decorate in bright colors and frilly pillows*

Lucien: …

Nesta: *nonchalantly abandons her wine glass and grabs the whole bottle instead*

Lucien: *grabs his own bottle and flees to his room*

((•: she, in fact, does NOT know Elain better than anyone else, as established in ACOSF lmao))

[elucienweekofficial]

Elucien Fanfic Crossword Answer Key- Smut Day One

How did you do? It's our hope through this week of puzzles that folks are able to find an existing fanfiction that speaks to them! Consider these a small masterlist filled with recommendations from the community itself. Below you'll find every fanfiction recommended attached to the author who created it, added in the order they were submitted! Fics were also categorized to their best of our ability. Check them out below!

[Please check all tags before engaging!]

You Look Like Bad News by @the-lonelybarricade

I gotta have you, I gotta have you - Elain hated living next to Lucien Vanserra. Almost as much as she hated the girl he was fucking.

When You Move, I'm Moved by @ataraxiasflame

When Elain Archeron flees Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony for a moment alone after an emotional experience, her mate follows her out of concern for what he feels through their bond, resulting in an evening neither had planned, but both had been wanting for ages.

I've been lost to you, sunlight (flew like a moth to you, sunlight) by @whatishowedyouinthedark

In all of her dreams, there is sunlight. That is the one constant in every single one Elain remembers after waking. And if there is no sunlight, she can still feel it beating against her skin in time with the heartbeat that has become a steady, comforting song in her mind. Sometimes it feels as if, when she dreams, she has woken from the sadness that is her reality into what should be her life.

-

or, the elucien breeding kink one :)

What We Wanted by @valamerys

Lucien’s first Fire Night as High Lord of the Spring Court puts he and Elain’s fledgling relationship in an awkward position.

The Fires Of Eventide by @animezinglife

A quiet evening. A secluded cottage in Spring.

Beasts Inside Us by @crazy-ache

“If you so much as spill a drop of her blood, I will gladly show you just what kind of beast I am. And you will find, once I’ve ripped your throat out with my bare hands, and burnt this manor and everyone inside to ash and bone, that I am something far, far worse than just a beast.”

While staying in the mortal lands with the Band of Exiles, Elain Archeron stumbles across a familiar face from her past. Only Graysen wants revenge. Her only hope is that her mate, Lucien Vanserra, can save her—in more ways than one.

About Damn Time by @strawbrerian-writes

Elain planned to have a quiet, cool day off. The universe took one look at her plans and said "bet."

They Say I Did Something Bad by @separatist-apologist

Then why's it feel so good?

Elain Archeron's fiance is a total stranger to her, though his family's reputation for cruelty and avarice is not. Dreading a lifetime with a cruel, cold man, Elain decides to have one last night of freedom. Attending an infamous masquerade ball, Elain meets a stranger who offers to show her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. It's just one night of debauchery. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, Lord Save Me by @separatist-apologist

“How come I never see you at confession?” he pressed. Elain almost screamed.

Lucien never saw her at confession because the phrase "forgive me father, for I have sinned," was the start of every filthy fantasy she’d ever had about him.

I'm Going Out Tonight by @separatist-apologist

He rolled his neck and Elain paused, drinking him in. Even with his red hair plastered to his face, sweat soaking through his thin band t-shirt, Lucien Vanserra was the hottest man she’d ever seen.

And bass players were so her type.

“What did you say?”

He grinned, resting a broad hand over his muscular chest. “I asked if you had a man.”

Her mind flashed an image of Graysen. Too busy with work and the woman he was sleeping with on the side. She was there to pretend she didn’t know about that, wasn’t she? Did Graysen ever answer that question honestly, besides?

Holding up her drink, Elain ran her tongue suggestively over the straw. Lucien’s smile sharpened, those russet eyes darkening with obvious want.

“I don’t remember.”

Sharp as Glass and Twice as Bright by @valamerys

When he speaks again, it’s a low rumble in his chest. “If you keep doing that, dove, neither of us is going to get any sleep.”

Heat coils in Elain’s stomach. “I’m not tired.”

[Elucien + classic THERE IS ONLY ONE BED WHAT DO.] [yes i just did one for each of my ships dont look at me im a monster]

End Game by @separatist-apologist

Lucien Vanserra has been in love with Elain Archeron for as long as he's known her. With time ticking down before her inevitable engagement to Graysen, Lucien only has one goal: convince her to be his

But Only If You Dare by @kingofsummer93

It all started innocently enough. A silly game, a drunken dare.

Except now Elain can't sleep.

And it's all because of him.

I'm Damned If I Do by @separatist-apologist

“Get it off your chest,” he told her dismissively, returning to his work.

Let her scream and yell. It would change nothing given Rhysand and Feyre were doing this purposefully to push them together. Had Elain guessed that, too? Had she decided he was the safer person to vent her rage into?

She strode into his office and, like a petulant brat, swept everything off his desk. Lucien glared, irritated with the mess she’d made—she’d inadvertently shattered a rather nice crystal vase he’d gotten from Dawn, wrecking the little blue plant within in her recklessness.

“By all means, get it off my desk as well,” he told her dryly. Her chest heaved in the pretty silver dress she wore, pressing her breasts up against the neckline. Lucien had to look at his hands to stop looking at her body, though she was closer than she'd ever been

Our Hearts Still Beat The Same by @zenkindoflove

"She stood on the bridge for a few minutes, hoping that the rain might wash away the seething anger and bottomless anguish that crackled under her skin. More, more, more, repeated again and again to a steady beat. His heart beat."

Elucien, Two-shot, Post-ACOSF. Part One is Cozy Tension. Part Two is all smut.

Can read this fic independent of the series. They are separate stories but connected by song inspirations.

Both Forever and Rather Die by @foundress0fnothing

Elain runs a sex cult. She’s looking for something new. Lucien is new.

save the date by @thelovelymadone

Elain Archeron has had a perfect life.

Prettiest girl in her grade, first sibling to be engaged and living thousands of miles away from home. But then, her then fiancé cheats on her at their engagement party after she cajoled her entire family to come thousand of miles for her engagement.

Now, after four years, she’s going to be brave. She’s going to go to her eldest sister’s wedding as the maid of honor and bring … a paid actor to be her boyfriend.

Despite the lingering trauma of her ex-boyfriend posting her phone number on Internet forums and refusal to share how her childhood crush broke her confidence at her engagement party—what could possibly go wrong?

Call Me Selfish, Call Me Wrecked by @crazy-ache

Like countless times before, they’re dangling Elain in front of him without a mention of her name. And for once, Lucien decides to selfishly take it. “I’ll marry her,” he pretends to investigate his nails, even if his heart is about to burst from his chest. “But only if she agrees to it as well. That’s my only condition.”

Elain agrees. Lucien learns the consequences of not shutting up.

A Dance In Winter by @animezinglife

While visiting the Winter Court leading up to Solstice, Elain and Lucien find some time alone.

talk refined by @temperedink

Newly mated Elain has pretty much adjusted to being fae after all this time. What she’s still hung up on? Being able to express things in the bedroom. Luckily, Lucien is totally willing to let her try that out on him.

[the-darkestminds]

Autumn's Shadow: Chapter 2

Azriel x Eris (Azriel POV)

Summary: A covert meeting between Azriel and Eris to exchange valuable intel leaves Azriel reeling—and questioning everything he has ever felt for the Heir of Autumn. Azriel finds himself inexorably drawn to Eris, unable to resist his captivating allure. With the threat of Koschei and Beron looming ever closer, can their forbidden love endure in the face of such danger?

a/n: Assume the Band of Exiles is aware of Eris's alliance with the Night Court.

Read on AO3!

Full Chapter List

Chapter 2:

Azriel stood in Rhys’s study, only half listening to the discussion he was having with Cassian. A few days had passed since his…altercation with Eris and he’d been distracted and anxious ever since. He couldn’t focus on anything else. He kept turning it over in his mind, trying to figure out what it meant, why Eris had done it, why Azriel had let him do it and how he felt about it. He’d thought he hated the male, but now all he felt was confusion, and other things he didn’t want to acknowledge. The conversation continued on without him for a time, until—

“Did you get with Eris?” 

Azriel whipped his head to Cassian. “What?” He suddenly felt hot in his too-tight leathers.

“Did you meet? Find out if Beron’s allying with Koschei?” Cassian was looking at him with raised brows. 

Azriel silently cursed himself for being such an idiot. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so flustered. “Oh. Right. Yes.” 

Cassian and Rhys stared at him for a beat. 

“And?” Rhys drawled, arching a brow at him and cocking his head. Everything alright, brother?

“I’m fine,” he responded quickly aloud. The last thing he wanted was Rhys rifling around in his head, not that he would without permission. But still…Azriel cringed inwardly at the idea of Rhys stumbling across some of the thoughts he’d been having the past few nights. He continued, lest they pry further, “Beron has been visiting the continent often, likely to see Briallyn. Eris suspects Beron might also join her in allying with Koschei, if he thinks it will serve his interests. Though he has no concrete proof Beron is even aware of Koschei’s existence. I could get that proof though.” Cassian cursed softly, but Rhys did not seem surprised by the news. He nodded calmly, thinking. 

“Perhaps it is time you got a closer look at that lake. See what you can learn of Briallyn’s alliance with Koschei, and if she has the means to free him from his curse. Just be careful,” Rhys said gravely, “You saw what happened to those Autumn Court soldiers. And we still don’t know the true magnitude of Koschei’s power.” Azriel didn’t let his surprise show. Rhys had been adamant that Azriel observe from afar so as not to risk exposure in case the crown’s influence could snare him from a distance. He supposed they were growing desperate, what with the miniscule intel he had been able to gather thus far. Rhys added, “Talk to Vassa and Lucien before you go.” They had already shared what they knew of Koschei, but it wouldn’t hurt to verify nothing was left out or overlooked.

He gave Rhys a curt nod, but said nothing else. His brothers were still looking at him with amusement. 

“Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You look weird,” Cassian demanded.

“I said I’m fine,” he bit out. If his brother didn’t shut up soon he was going to punch him in the mouth.

“But—” 

“Leave it, Cass,” Rhys ordered. 

Before Cassian could voice the undoubtably crude thought that glinted in his eyes, Azriel said quickly, “Are we done here?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he let his shadows whisk him away, though not fast enough to miss Rhys’s loud laughter as Cassian mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “panties” and “twist.” Azriel rolled his eyes and huffed a begrudging laugh. If only they knew. 

***

Azriel’s shadows deposited him directly on the front doorstep of the manor Jurian and Vassa—and Lucien—were now sharing and he knocked twice on the large wooden slab. As he waited, he scanned the surrounding lands, the evidence of war still prominent in the felled trees and barren patches of earth. He turned as Lucien’s scarred, handsome face appeared in the doorway. He stepped aside silently to let Azriel pass. 

The male’s shoulders were tense as he said vaguely, “Lots of visitors today.” 

Azriel took in Lucien’s strained face, the warning that flashed in his russet eye, the other whirring and clicking faintly. Azriel cocked his head and walked down the hall beside Lucien as his shadows swept through the manor undetected. He sensed two human heartbeats—Vassa and Jurian, and a third, slower than the others. His stomach sank as he suspected who was visiting that had Lucien on edge.

When they entered the room his eyes went immediately to the red-haired male seated near the crackling fire. Eris lounged in a chair like it was his own personal throne, legs crossed, the picture of courtly grace and arrogance. Eris met his eyes and smiled widely, wicked delight sparking in his amber eyes. 

“Shadowsinger, it’s been too long,” he crooned in greeting. Azriel willed himself not to blush—prayed silently to the Mother that Lucien and Eris wouldn’t pick up on his racing heartbeat or the sweat now dripping down his back. Was it hot in here? “I’ve been meaning to ask you if you needed a hand with anything. What are allies for, after all?” Azriel stood rigidly, his mind reeling as he tried to think of something, anything, to say. The room was silent but for the roaring fire. Eris’s smile grew and he arched a brow at Azriel. Lucien glanced between them warily. 

“Azriel? Is everything alright?” Vassa’s voice clanged through him. Fuck. He was here to discuss Koschei with Vassa and Lucien. Two seconds in Eris’s presence and he’d completely lost his cool.

“Your majesty,” he bowed his head slightly, offering his respect to the human queen. She smiled and dipped her head in acknowledgement.

“Did you come with news or orders?” she asked.

“Neither,” he glanced at Eris before continuing, “I’m here to gather any more information you might have on Koschei before I leave for the continent.” 

Vassa’s eyes burned like blue flame at the mention of her master’s name. “I’d advise you to stay far away from that lake.” Her voice was coated in fear. When Azriel didn’t respond, she conceded. “Koschei is as old as the sea—older. Some say he is Death itself, though what that means I can’t be sure. He is truly immortal.” Her voice was hoarse as she added, “The true manner of his power is unknown to me. But he does have the ability to transport others long distances, like he did with your soldiers,” she jerked her head at Eris. The male’s face darkened, eyes flickering. “He is no mere sorcerer. Everything he does is to free himself from the lake. But he whispers on the winds…can see far…He was able to sow discord among my fellow queens while still trapped at the lake. Whether or not his voice holds some magical sway, I do not know. But you’d be wise to stay away, Azriel.” She seemed reluctant to say more. 

Some of it was new information. Azriel hadn’t known the death god had played any part in stirring up the human queens before Hybern launched its war against Prythian. Nor was he aware of any sorcerer-like power to control people like puppets, aside from the Crown. Would the death god have use for such objects? Or was he powerful enough on his own? Rhys had told him to keep the information to himself, so he said nothing.

“Be careful,” Jurian warned, his voice grim. Azriel only nodded to him, and then to Lucien. He bowed his head again in farewell to Vassa and turned to leave, ignoring Eris.

“I’ll walk you out,” Eris said behind him. Azriel tensed, his steps faltering. Eris breezed by him into the hall. He waited for Azriel to catch up and they walked side by side towards the front door. Eris didn’t speak again until they were outside. 

“You truly have nothing to say to me? Have I done something to offend you?” he asked mockingly, all graveness of the past few minutes gone. The shit-eating grin was back on his face. 

Azriel snarled softly. “Everything you do offends me.” 

Eris laughed darkly as he slid his hands into the pockets of his pants. “You wound me. And here I thought you’d be happy to see me. You seemed to enjoy our last meeting immensely, if I recall correctly.” 

Azriel’s face burned as he glanced down in embarrassment. Gods, he couldn’t even meet his eyes. Couldn’t think of a single damn thing to say to put Eris in his place. When did he become such a blundering idiot? He cursed himself silently.

“Let me know when you return from your little trip to the continent,” Eris said flippantly. Azriel nodded stiffly, still not meeting the male’s eyes. A beat of silence. And then—“I enjoyed myself too, shadowsinger.” 

Azriel snapped his head up to see Eris grin and wink, and then he was gone. His stomach fluttered strangely at the words. As his shadows whisked him away he allowed himself a small, private smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter

Tag list: @unanswered-stars

[sjmgirlie]

I’ve been pondering Lucien’s character more lately and I’m beginning to think he might actually be the person to “betray” the Inner Circle.

So first of all, don’t attack me if you’re a Lucien Stan and don’t agree, because this is just a theory. Do I want Lucien to be bad? No. Lol. I don’t want anyone to be bad but Koschei, the Queens and Beron. So basically everyone we know is bad. But there is going to be someone who betrays them.

Lucien, since day one, has always been associated with a fox. Rhysand specifically said that Lucien wore a fox mask for a reason.

He’s been associated with many courts, as he took over as emissary and basically did Tamlin’s job because, well, Tamlin is literally just a beast lol. No communication skills whatsoever. So he’s good with people.

Now, he was thrown out of Autumn, saved by his brother Eris as we find out (which idk if Lucien knows this) and sent to Spring. Tamlin took him in, and then after the whole aftermath with Feyre destroying the court, he found himself at the Night Court.

This is where it starts to make sense why he might betray them. He has no alliance to them. Tbh, Lucien and Feyre are not friends at all. He knew she was lying in spring, he sent her to die as a human in the forest, she makes fun of him for the Band of Exiles name. Like they aren’t friends. Lucien is maintaining his role to have a reason to be around Elain, but he also doesn’t want to anyways. Also, Mor said he can’t be trusted even with Elain there. So what’s going on?

See, there might be a reason the Band of Exiles needs the NC. Probably to help in breaking Vassa’s curse. But other than that?

Lucien shows a lot of animosity towards Rhys and Feyre. Especially in ACOFAS. And in ACOSF, when Cassian visits the manor, Lucien asks “Are you here to give me orders?” So..

Now, Jurian as an eyeball apparently had more deduction skills than both Tamlin and Lucien combined when it came to Rhys. He knew him before, and knew he wasn’t a bad guy. That it was an act. Just as he was acting with Hybern. Will he want to betray someone he knows isn’t actually bad? Especially after he died to save Prythian? Maybe not. But for Vassa? Ya, I think he would.

Lucien is indirectly affiliated with the IC, and I don’t think SJM would ever make any actual IC member betray them. They are found family, it’s out of the cliche she likes. But Lucien? He’s in it but not really.

Could this be why Elain is avoiding him? Maybe. Will it be catastrophic? I doubt it, but it’ll be a betrayal that rocks the boat enough.

SJM has continuously reduced Lucien’s character in the books. Was he the comic relief in ACOTAR? Yes. Because, well, we needed him as a wing man since Mr. Your hair is clean was not going to get Feyre on his own. And it was also a Beauty and the Beast re-telling, with Lucien being Lumière (fire power anyone?) who also was the beast's wingman. But after that? He didn’t help Feyre when she asked, was an accomplice in her sisters being turned fae, helped in spring but then the whole travel to get to NC was just to see Elain, then after that it was just snark after snark with him.

I feel like people latched on to how Lucien was in the first book and then idk? Just didn’t see his character diminish from that? The only time he’s still the old Lucien is when he talks about vassa. Otherwise he’s just rude and annoyed IMO.

Do I want Lucien's happy ending? Of course I do. I want that for all the characters. Why wouldn't I? I'm the same as SJM, I want happy endings, even if it's cliche.

Anyways, I think Lucien is going to betray the IC.

@clairvoyantmiss

[lainalit]

Not me almost crying thinking about how Jurian greets/departs from Vassa every sunrise and sunset on the frontyard of the band of exiles manor