My main ships are Elucien, Azris, Nessian, Chaol and Yrene and Ruhnlidia, but every other ship is just as beautiful. What I won’t accept on this blog is hate and unfair behaviour towards other users!
masterlist
incorrect quotes / drabbles / headcanons
events / celebration weeks
aesthetics / artsy stuff
tag lists
links: ao3, instagram, tiktok
drabble requests (currently closed)
I'm so glad you're here to join me on this journey of writing about my favourite characters and improving as a writer.
If you want to chat, my inbox is also always open for you.
First of all, I‘m incredibly sorry for just disappearing. Secondly, thank you for everyone who is still hear, I love you all💛
I think I‘ll owe you a little explanation why I disappeared from one day to the other, and honestly, it mostly has to do with me being hyper-focused on writing my first original book. It‘s finished now, and currently the third draft is being edited. I‘ve already started the sequel of it, and started drafting two more stories… I just have SO MANY ideas and finally feel motivated and inspired to writd them all.
I do want to get back to fanfic writing, I really do, especially with the new ACOTAR books coming out. I really hope that over the summer I‘ll be able to write some more of the drabbles that were requested ages ago and also post some stories for the celebration weeks.
Once again, I‘m so sorry. But I loved working on my original project(s) and while working full time, there simply was no time for fanfic writing.
I hope you all have a good week ahead of you! I‘m sending you all so much love💛
Thanks for tagging me @itsblobross, this was so much fun💛
1.Who’s your favorite ACOTAR character?
Lucien & Elain💛 (and also Gwyn, Azriel and Eris) - I can't decide on one, okay?
2. Who’s your least favorite character?
Ianthe... no explanation needed
3. Say something nice about your least favorite character.
there's nothing nice I can say, I guess, but I think she was described to have beautiful eyes? does that count?
4. Who’s your favorite High Lord?
Helion (and obivously soon to be High Lord Eris)
5. Favorite minor character?
Nuan (like @itsblobross hehe); she seems to be so cool, and I really liked her
6. Favorite ship?
Elucien (always and forever); and Azris💛 Nessian also owns a huge part of my heart
7. Favorite Court?
Autumn (because I love Autumn as a season); and Dawn, because it seems beautiful
8. Make a new court right now, no prep, just vibes.
I don't know, that's too much pressure ... I would probably try to revive the Dusk Court
9. What relationship would you have wanted to see more in the books?
Lucien with the BoE; and also how Tamlin and Rhys's relationship was when they were younger; and Eris with his brothers
10. What’s your unpopular opinion?
Tamlin also deserves to heal and his trauma often gets overlooked? I feel like his hate is not 100% necessary as he was obviously struggling too, and not only since Amarantha's reign, but from his early childhood on. (that doesn't mean I say what he did was good, but surely he has his own demons that turned him into the man he was in the books). Also it was completely unnecessary of Feyre to destroy his court...
11. What is your favorite headcanon?
Elain (when she is ready to and comfortable) making the first move toward Lucien.
12. If you were swept away to Prythian, what’s one thing you would want to do?
how to access the prison
13. If you could have one Faerie ability seen in the books, what would it be?
winnowing
14. What would you name books 6&7?
A Court of Dusk and Dawn
A Court of Vision and Love
(both names a really bad, but I was under pressure)
15. If you were in ACOTAR, who would you want to date?
Lucien or Azriel or Eris (I can't decide!!!!)
16. What ACOTAR characters would you want to be best friends with?
Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie
17. Have you read the other series in the Maasverse? Throne of glass and/or Crescent City?
YES
18. What romance trope would you want to live if you were in ACOTAR?
strangers to lovers
19. What ACOTAR book is your favorite so far?
A Court of Silver Flames
20. Since SJM is a Disney fan, who is your favorite Disney character?
Aurora
21. What is your favorite thing about being in the ACOTAR fandom?
the people I've met. some of them are now some of my closest friends and I couldn't be more grateful to have met them💛
22. What’s something you want to see happen in future books?
Elain's visions!!
23. If SJM comes out with more merchandise. Would you buy it?
probably not ... maybe
24. If ACOTAR became a TV series. Would you want it to be live action or animated?
I don't want it to become a TV series ...
tagging: @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @queercontrarian @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath (if you haven't done it already; no pressure as usual)
🔥 Get excited, everyone! The Eris Week prompts have been selected and of course, some fan favourites returned! 🐶
📝 Like last year, there are sometimes two prompts per day that you may choose from. Ultimately, these prompts are optional, so if neither of them resonates with you, feel free to do your own thing!
🧠 And lastly, we'll be providing some prompt guides to help you brainstorm for each of the days! Keep an eye out for those posts.
Needs a Rules Refresh? Read on.
Eris Week supports all mediums of creativity (art, fics, moodboards, playlists, incorrect quotes, headcanons, drabbles, theories, etc).
You can ship Eris with anyone and everyone. This blog is ship-neutral and will support all works. Eris x OC and Eris x Reader are welcome, too! You also don't have to ship him with anyone. General Eris content is encouraged as well.
Be as creative as you like! As mentioned above, every day has two optional prompts! We’ll provide some additional guidance and questions per prompt to help you brainstorm ideas!
We do not tolerate hate. Please do not argue or spread negativity on other creators' content this week. We are here to support one another and 🎉celebrate 🎉 one of our favorite characters! If you are not a fan of Eris, you are welcome to block this blog! Your peace of mind is important, as is that of our creators.
We will not reblog or interact with any AI art.
We will have a Collection (ErisWeek2026) on AO3! Do some double duty and post your masterpiece there too!
We mentioned this on the date announcement, but the Eris Week prompt suggestion form is open! For those of you new to fandom events, prompts are used as "themes" for each day of an event week, and are meant to provide inspiration for what to make for each day. They are optional, but still a fun part of the event.
Ex. Last year we had Mates as a prompt, and folks created art, writing, and interactive narratives featuring Eris and his dogs!
This is a community event, so we want the community to play an active role in determining parts of the event!
Suggest Prompts Here
The form does not collect your email.
You can submit the form as many time as your heart desires.
Last year's Eris week so much fun! Thank you once again for making the week so amazing! We're so excited to bring back the same energy and love for 2026!
As usual, we’ll be getting ready for the event by:
💬 Getting the Prompts Ready
🖼️ Showcasing 2025's content
✨ And of course...a lot of fun little surprises
Keep an eye out for our posts (#erisweek2026), tell your friends, and check out the other amazing events highlighted by @maased-out!!
Lastly, thank you @themadmorrigan for the incredible banner🧡
Reflect and share! As 2026 approaches, look back on everything you've accomplished this year. What stood out to you? What are you proud of? What did you learn about writing? About yourself? How will you continue your success in the new year?
I'm really excited to do this! Thank you so so much for tagging me @acourtofladydeath
Embers in the Shadows (Azriel x Eris)
My baby! I want to put this story here first, because I literally poured my whole heart and soul into it, and then it also broke my heart while writing it. But I'm so happy about how it turned out. I was kind of nervous about posting it at first, as I'm always haha, but I'm glad I did and very thankful for the nice feedback it got.
2. Say You Won't Let Go (Azriel x Eris)
Same goes for this one, honestly. It was a rather darker/sadder story somehow, but this is what I love for Azris. I had had the idea for this story for such a long time before I actually wrote it, and was always thinking up conversations and scenes in my head before actually sitting down to write it.
3. In His Arms, I Heal (Gwyn x Balthazar)
I just love this ship, and I will always get emotional over them. Writing this story for so important for me, and although I almost cried at some parts, I loved writing it so much.
4. You'd Come over right? (Elain x Lucien)
This was probably my most spontaneous story this year. I listened to the song, it got stuck in my head, I had the idea for the story, wrote it and posted it – that's why I want to share it here as well. Sometimes you just have to be spontaneous haha.
5. Mask Off (Azriel x Eris)
What can I say? Another Azris one. I just love writing for these two and this was so much fun. It is based on a book I read this year, and placing Azris in a modern, dark romance stalker setting just felt too perfect for the spooky season to not write it.
Thank you so soooo much for the support of each and every single one of you. I know I have not been as active as I have been in the years before, but there are reasons for it. Sending everyone a lot of love💛
tagging (if you want to): @queercontrarian @shadowhunter2003 @itsblobross @chunkypossum @nocasdatsgay
My gift to the wonderful @fieldofdaisiies for the @acotargiftexchange!!
Fragment noun
(1) A small piece, broken or separated from the whole.
(2) The missing moments between mates.
Fragments is a series of illustrated ficlets documenting the missing moments between our favorite pair of mates — Elucien 🦊🌷 (this is part 1 of 3)
I've had so much fun being your Santa and getting to know you the last few months and I really hope you enjoy!!! 🩷🧡😘🎅🏻
You can read the ficlet below the cut or on AO3!
Elain could hear her sisters arguing in the hall, Nesta urging Feyre to call a healer. But Elain was not sick. Her head swam with strange images. A lake. A box. A bird of fire. A male with glossy red hair and a peculiar golden eye.
She could hear him in the hallway, too. Could feel his presence. It was a strange sensation
“He will try.” She heard Feyre hiss, and Nesta went quiet.
The small, scary faerie dragged Nesta into the other room for more “training.” Feyre entered the sitting room and settled in the window seat, watching Elain.
And he, Lucien, came to sit across the table from her. His warmth fell over her like a blanket. She observed him through unfocused eyes as her mind swirled with visions of him smiling, laughing, dancing.
Suddenly, she was struck with the sense that she was not alone in her own mind. It felt different to the assault of Feyre's powers or those of her mate, but like a close friend walking through the front door at the end of a long day.
Lucien.
Just as she sensed him, a scandalous image of him invaded her mind, and she felt a jerk against her ribs as Lucien, startled, tugged on the bond.
My dearest @wrenisrad here is your present for the @acotargiftexchange! It was an absolute delight to be your secret santa this year, I had so much fun talking to you, and I can FINALLY tell you "oh my god we have so much in common!" Thank you for being such an amazing sentee, I hope you have a wonderful Yule celebration and that you enjoy reading your gift.❤️
Sleepless in the Onyx Night
You can read the story below, or find it on ao3! At the very end, there's also a playlist for the story! (~8k words; warnings: contains explicit content)
Stars twinkle above his head as Lucien returns to the House of Wind, leaving the soft blanket of white beneath his feet and stepping onto the stones leading to the door. He brushes the snow off his boots with his gloved hand. Behind him the city is already asleep, a faint chill clinging to his skin and winter coat from the time out in the cold, walking through the City of Starlight to clear his mind after Cassian had left him alone at Rita’s.
Lucien knows that Cassian only meant well, hoping he would have some fun that night with the beautiful blonde he hooked him up with. Cassian, Lucien is now sure of that, truly only wants what’s best for him, and actually cares for him. But tonight it wasn’t what Lucien wanted. Since he found his mate, it has never been what he wants. No other female. No other female beside Elain. Never. Only ever Elain. Even if she doesn’t want him. Even if he can‘t have her.
But still he appreciates Cassian’s efforts to make him happier, to brighten his time in the Night Court. The general often comes to talk to him during his stays here, always trying to make conversation and cheer him up.
Also this time when Lucien once again stayed here longer than planned, for Elain, of course, and Cassian seems to understand his struggle the best.
Now, the festivities are long over, the laughter and happy chatter have faded, leaving behind a kind of aching stillness within him. When he arrived here over a week ago, Lucien told himself that it was once again only for Solstice, that he would only stay for that time, just a brief visit, a polite gesture, but the truth was something wholly different. He had come for her. And he would stay for her. Longer than planned. Longer than expected. He always would come here for her. He always would stay for her.
On their own accord, Lucien’s eyes lift to the window above –her window–, where the lights are off. She’s probably asleep, safely tucked away in her bed.
Longing fills his entire body, his chest aching fiercely.
He forces himself to look away, shoving the door open harder than necessary as he strides inside. The River House is quiet, Feyre, Rhys, and Nyx are probably already asleep. He wants nothing more than to do the same. To collapse face-first into the mattress and disappear into the pillows, but sleep will probably not find him once again, just as it has every night here, with only a wall between him and Elain and a gnawing longing in his chest that will one day devour him wholly.
He moves through the house as silently as he can, careful not to wake anyone, and slips up the stairs until he reaches his room. Exhaling a long, pent-up breath, he slumps back against the closed door, then peels off his gloves. His coat follows, landing beside the dresser, and he tugs his collar loose, undoing the top buttons of his shirt.
Tomorrow he’s going to leave. He needs to get out of here, back home … to Jurian and Vassa, his family.
His shirt hangs, now open, loosely over his shoulders and his hands fall to his trousers, but a soft knock –one he barely registers as one– makes him stop. Maybe he just imagined it? Maybe it was just in his imagination. Maybe—
The knock sounds again. This time harsher.
And then the door opens.
He freezes right on the spot, and his breath catches.
Elain stands there, barefoot on the cold floor, dressed only in a thin nightgown, hair loose and tumbling around her shoulders in long, untamed waves. The moonlight makes her skin glow, softening the anger radiating from every fibre of her being. Yet, despite the fury burning in her eyes, Lucien thinks she has never looked more beautiful. She’s stunning, breathtaking, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
“Tell me,” she asks, the words as sharp as a knife, “was the night as good as both you and Cassian hoped?”
✨
Three days before
“The Shadowsinger is leaving for Autumn again,“ Nuala giggles, nose pressed against the frosted glass, standing on her tiptoes, hips pressed against the counter.
“Oh, I love this!“ her sister joins in, and Elain pretends her best to not listen to the gossip the shadow-wraiths are telling. But she’s just as nosy as the other two, just as fascinated by all the drama and everything happening here and in the other courts. Not the political matters, though. Elain couldn’t care less about politics or fae affairs. What she loves is chatter. Gossip. She always has, and she still does.
“He’s going to the High Lord of Autumn?“ she asks as she turns to them, wiping her hands clean on a kitchen towel, a small smile on her lips.
Nuala giggles again. “Yep!“
Outside, dawn creeps upon the white land, soft sunlight coming in through the window behind them as Elain looks at them and waits for them to continue.
“But let’s not talk about the broody Spymaster.“ Cerridwen circles the counter, stopping right in front of Elain. “Let’s talk about the birdhouse your ma—Lord Lucien got you!“
Elain almost groans loudly, but only presses her teeth together.
“Honestly, it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen!” Nuala chimes in, swooning. “Hand-carved, wasn’t it? You could see how much work he put into it.”
A blush fills Elain’s cheeks, and she folds her hands over her face, giggling, no longer able to hold back. “It’s… lovely, I know. I love it,” Elain says behind her hands, her voice soft.
When he gave it to her, he held out his hand to guide her to the window, awkward at first, then a little surer when he pointed out her gift outside in the garden. “For your garden. I thought you might like it” was what he told her and she knew the first moment she looked at it that she loved it.
That night, she smiled, politely, gently, reserved, her fingers brushing his for only an instant as she took his hand and then pulled back in the next moment. So damn stupid, Elain reminds herself. She wanted to hold his hand. She still does, but once again her fear got the best of her. She doesn’t want to be fae, she wants no fae bond, and she’s afraid of losing her last mortal part.
Elain gives her head a shake, forcing herself to think of something else. Something happier, and immediately thinks of the other presents and gestures of Lucien – warm wool scarves, sweets from the continent, flowers, and pearls.
Nuala sighs dreamily, fetching Elain back to the moment. She wants to say something, but her breath hitches when she can feel something outside the door, a heartbeat close to her – Lucien is near.
She freezes.
Then the door opens, slowly. The air shifts in an instant, heat and energy curling around, and making her skin buzz. She looks up, hesitantly, and he’s there, in the doorway, all easy confidence and careless grace that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
He doesn’t walk in immediately, but his gaze finds her. The faintest hint of a cheeky smile touches his mouth, hesitant, but also confident. As confident as his demeanor, and once again, Elain is reminded of his beauty – he is, without doubt, the most beautiful man she has ever seen in her life.
“Good morning,” Lucien says, voice hoarse, his tone gentle though, and in the corner of her eye, she notices how Nuala and Cerridwen swoon once more.
Her own heart stumbles as well – the traitorous and foolish organ within her.
Still, she manages a polite and reserved smile, the kind of smile she had already practiced when she was a young child. “Lord Lucien,” she says. His name sounds awkwardly amazing on her tongue – as it always does. “Good morning.“
“Good morning, Lord Lucien!“ now also the shadow-wraiths sing-song, looking at Lucien as if he’s the most exquisite male they have ever seen. Probably because he is. The most stunning male there is!
Elain gives her head a shake. Silly girl, she tells herself and turns away, reaching for a teapot. She lifts it, trying to keep her trembling hands busy, and her eyes on anything but him. But her heart won’t stop fluttering, and she wonders if Lucien once again can hear her heartbeat, how it’s faster now that he’s near.
Lucien steps further into the room, analysing the dishes that are still on the counter from breakfast earlier that day. “The bread smells amazing, Lady Elain. I feel very sorry now that I missed breakfast,” he then says, voice still low, and filled with a hint of regret.
“As you should, my Lord.” Elain places the teapot down and turns back to him with a reprimanding look. “My bread is the best, and missing it when it’s fresh is a shame. Did you get lost in the woods, or did you simply not want to join us?“
Light amusement dances over his face, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “I got distracted. By the beauty of this court and what the woods had to offer. What I could explore.”
“Ah.” Elain tilts her chin up, nose held high. He should see her displeasure, although it may not make sense to him. Normally, she would seek distance when he got too close, and now she wanted him to be there for breakfast? So he could taste her freshly baked bread. She doesn’t even make sense to herself anymore.
When she looks back at him, she finds him still looking at her. It doesn’t make her feel particularly uncomfortable, but nervousness blooms within her. What does he see when he looks at her? What does he feel?
Her cheeks begin to warm under his gaze, and before she can think of a thing to say that will draw him away from her again –something mean or cold– she notices how Nuala and Cerridwen exchange knowing looks over their teacups. “We’ll just—uuuum… check on the little princeling. I think he’s just woken up,” Nuala says then, tugging her sister with her as they leave too suddenly.
Oh Cauldron! Elain thinks, wanting to stop them. Now she’s alone with Lucien and her wildly beating heart.
In the meantime, amusement still etched upon his face, Lucien has leaned against the counter, arms folded in that casual way that somehow makes it even harder for her to breathe like a normal being.
“So,” he says, eyes glinting as they travel over her face, “have you found a place for it yet?”
It takes Elain a second to think about what he means, her mind too busy with thinking clear thoughts now that he’s distracting her once again with his appearance, his voice, and everything about him. “The birdhouse?” she asks, and then, despite herself, smiles. “I thought maybe near the berry garden? Next to the oak tree, maybe?”
“Seems good,” Lucien answers with a smile.
She looks down for a small moment. “I like it a lot. It’s lovely,” she says softly, meaning it, but still her voice seems to travel.
Lucien hums deep in his throat. “Good.“
“Well,” Elain mumbles, fingers toying with the ruffles on her dress. “I should– um finish, um, this cake.” She turns away quickly, no longer able to look at the beautiful male in front of her. It’s too much, and her heart is beating way too fast. She needs him to leave.
“Of course,” he answers, stepping back.
As he’s approaching the door, she can still feel his eyes on her, leaving warmth in every place they touch. She loves the way he’s looking at her, and hates it at the same time. He shouldn’t look at her like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. And there shouldn’t be so much admiration and kindness in them. Not when she’s been nothing but awful to her.
The door closing behind her snaps her back to the moment, telling her that she’s once more alone. And despite wanting to feel relief about this, there’s only a small hollowness within her heart at the thought of it.
✨
Two days before
Absentmindedly, Elain’s fingers trail over the small pressed-flower charm on her necklace. It’s self-made by Lucien. Of course, it is. It is his Solstice present from last year.
He always finds the perfect and exact right thing to give her. And although they are always perfect, Elain knows she never thanks him properly for them. It’s always polite. But reserved. Calm. Too calm. Too distant.
Just a year ago, she remembers, he even waited hours by the garden door just to talk to her. And when she finally found the courage in herself to speak to him, it was only a polite “Good afternoon, Lord Lucien,” before she quickly hurdled away. She didn’t even give him a chance to say anything to her. He also always checks in on her well-being, and she knows he always means it. It’s not just chit-chat, he truly cares. She can feel it. Through the bond.
The bond that makes everything so complicated.
She doesn’t want a bond. She doesn’t want a fae male bonded to her. She doesn’t want Lu—
That’s a lie. Elain gives her head a shake. She wants Lucien. She has wanted him from the first day she saw him. Her heart gave a leap back then, and her world stopped when their eyes met for the first time. But everything happened so fast that day. Everything was so awful and she lost the life she had before being thrown into the Cauldron.
The Cauldron that turned her into a fae. A fae like Lucien. Lucien, to whom she is connected via a fae bond. And by accepting said bond, she will lose every last inch of being mortal.
Which is bullshit. She has long ago lost it. She is no longer mortal, human. She’s fae, just like her sisters, just like her mate.
Her mate. Lucien Vanserra. Elain Vanserra. Elain tastes the words on her tongue, silently whispering them into her room. It doesn’t sound too awful, does it?
Elain shakes her head, and with it, the thoughts of her mate. She gets out of bed, finally, after having lain there for what felt like hours, just thinking and dealing with her doubts and worries.
She quickly grabs the small bowl of seeds she placed on the dresser to plant later, and slides out of her room, hopefully getting unnoticed by everyone so she can have a bit of peace. And quiet.
But, lucky as usual, Elain and Lucien seem to have the same idea at the very same time. They step into the hallways at the same moment.
Elain’s breath hitches, mouth falling open when she realises his state of undress–his shirt is still undone, exposing all the hard ridges and lines of his chiseled chest, alongside the dusting of coarse red hair, his hands on the first buttons of his shirt. She freezes mid-step, brain circulating short at the sight of him.
“Morning, my Lady,” Lucien says, voice still rough with sleep.
Elain swallows roughly and only manages a faint “Good morning” in return. Gods, he’s beautiful. It’s cruel.
So overwhelmed by the sight of her mate, Elain almost forgets the bowl of seeds she’s holding, tilting it to the side and almost letting it slip out of her fingers. Before it hits the floor, though, Lucien catches it, having closed the distance between them at high speed. His fingers brush hers in the process, and her breath catches anew, a warm spark being sent up her arm, leaving her even more flustered than before.
“Thank you,” she breathes, and Lucien smiles in return.
She quickly pushes past him, muttering some incomprehensible words about being busy and finally having to start on the task of the day, her shoulder bumping against his arm as she dashes away.
It is later that day when Elain happens to walk upon the most beautiful and adorable sight in all of fae kind while searching for her younger sister. It’s Lucien napping on the couch in the large family living room. But not alone. Nyx is cuddled tightly to his chest, mouth agape and a bit of drool dripping onto Lucien’s green shirt, seemingly getting the best nap of his entire life. She can barely tear her gaze away from the sight, wanting to look at them forever and then bottle up this moment to look at it again whenever she’s sad. But she has to leave. It wouldn’t be proper to keep looking at them while they are asleep. And she has to find her sister. She needs to talk to her.
“He gifted you a birdhouse, Elain. It’s lovely, just what you wanted.” Feyre is beaming while she tears off a bite of the bread Elain baked earlier this day.
A deep crimson fills Ealin’s cheeks as she pulls her lower lip between her teeth. “I know… he’s… it’s wonderful. And he’s so attentive. Too attentive. And it’s— Gods … I wish he wasn’t so handsome, Feyre!”
A rich laugh bursts from her sister, her eyes crinkling. “I don’t see how that’s a problem?”
But Elain scowls at her, a tremble in her voice, “You know exactly why it’s a problem, Feyre!”
It is a problem because she can barely form two coherent thoughts, where one of them is not about Lucien. Everything seems to be about him these days, and it will, she knows this for sure, one day drive her insane. Especially now that Nyx is awake and Lucien returned him to Feyre and then politely offered to shovel the garden path leading from the door down to the garden house. And obviously, Elain is watching him. Her room is right above the door, and she has to, of course, oversee that he’s doing it properly. That’s, of course, the only reason why she’s watching him. Definitely not because he took off his jacket a few minutes ago and now all the corded muscles and broad shoulders are visible through his shirt. The damn green shirt that was unbuttoned this morning when they ran into one another.
She nibbles on her lip, watching him for a moment longer, unsure if she should join him or not, torn, but eventually grabs her coat and, without a second thought, leaves the room.
He seems surprised about her showing up, and Elain, too, is surprised by her actions. “Can you help me set up my birdhouse?” It comes out more as a command, her voice rushed and loud, rather than a request.
But Lucien smiles in return and gives her a small nod. “Of course, Lady Elain. I would love to help you.”
Discarding the shovel and the task at hand, Lucien immediately sets out to help her. They work together in union, as a team, each movement seemingly coordinated, although nothing but silence fills the space between them. It’s as if they need no words to work together perfectly. As if they are meant to be. Because they are.
“Wonderful!” Elain hums when they are finished, the birdhouse looking incredible beneath the large oak tree. “You’re really skilled at those handicrafts, my Lord.” She turns to him with a smile, still reserved but a little brighter than the usual ones she gives him.
A cheeky grin appears on her mate’s lips, though. “I’ve heard that I’m quite good with my hands before.” He winks at her, and colour immediately dashes into her cheeks at the innuendo. She sucks in a breath, not allowing her thoughts to wander, to imagine, and straightens up.
“My Lord,” she reprimands, her tone breathy, and gives her eyes a roll.
“My Lady,” Lucien teases, a hint of breathiness also in his voice. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.“
“Or what?”
But Lucien only chuckles and makes the mistake of turning away from her to pick up the tools they used to build the birdhouse. Just when he’s about to straighten up, a ball of snow hits his shoulder, and little snowflakes are also flying onto his face. His eyes widen in surprise, but Elain is already running away, a grin on her lips.
He drops the tools. “You shouldn’t have done that!”
A teasing brow lifts, the smile on her lips widening. “Or what?”
To her utter surprise, a moment later a snowball explodes right on her chest, and that’s when the game is on.
For a moment, it goes on like that, snowballs flying between them, hitting each other in every possible place, before they eventually tumble into the snow together, Elain’s back hitting the ground with a loud thump that makes her laugh even harder, and tears of bliss roll down her cheeks. She kicks out at Lucien’s legs, and makes him stumble and consequently fall as well, landing right on top of her.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, as he hovers above her, lips only mere inches from hers. He’s staring down at her, eyes locked, bodies pressing against one another in every place. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she breathes, poking her tongue out to wet her lower lip, and Lucien’s eyes follow the movement, his head leaning closer on instinct.
She could kiss him. If only she tilted her head a little further, she could kiss him. She should kiss him, bury her hand in his long, silken strands, remove the hair tie, pull him in, and kiss him. She feels him in every place, his thumb warm even through the fabric of her coat from where it’s placed next to her upper arm, his warm breath on her skin, and the long length of his manhood between her legs. She squeezes her eyes shut. He fits her perfectly, and it feels too perfect. This moment—
“We should—” Elain shoves at Lucien’s chest. “I should get going.” She pushes at him again until Lucien rolls over, obviously getting off her immediately.
“I’m sorry.” She doesn’t even know what she’s apologising for. For ruining another wonderful moment? For breaking his and her own heart once more. She hates herself for it. She should have just kissed him and followed her heart’s deepest desire. She should have given in to it. She should not have pushed him away.
She hates herself for the look on his face now, the pain and shame and regret flashing brightly in his eyes as she gets up, dusting snow from her coat and dress. She runs away, as fast as her legs can take her, locking herself into her room before sliding down the door and crying tears of pain instead of happiness then.
✨
Present Day - earlier this evening
Elain is just about to grab a little late evening snack, her feet already on the first step of the long, winding staircase, when she catches a glimpse of Lucien standing in the corridor below by the door, surprisingly even more well-dressed than usual. His scent of warm and rich cedar with a hint of forest and cinnamon drifts to her through the air.
Elain’s mouth parts to ask where he’s going, but he’s already moving, oblivious to her presence.
“Lord Lu—” He slips out of the door before her voice can reach him. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving Elain with a pout on her lips and questions burning on her tongue.
Where is he going at this time? And why is he so well dressed?
Her brow still crooked, Elain enters the living room a minute later, forgetting what she actually planned on doing downstairs, trying to act casual and nonchalant when she stumbles upon Feyre and little Nyx happily babbling on her sister’s lap, tugging at Feyre’s braid.
“Where did Lucien go?” Elain blurts out and immediately wants to face-palm herself. That much about being nonchalant.
A knowing smile appears on Feyre’s lips, although she tries to hide it. “Oh, Lucien? Cassian dragged him to Rita’s,” her sister says lightly, and Elain’s stomach coils, but pretends she doesn’t care at all.
“Cassian insisted that Lucien needs a night out whether he likes it or not, but we all know that the real reason was that Cassian wanted to go out badly and unfortunately had no one to come with him, so Lucien took one for the team.” Feyre shakes her head with a hoarse laugh. “You know, Azriel’s still on his… Autumn Court missions, observing that our newly crowned High Lord doesn’t put a toe out of place.” Feyre wiggles her brows because obviously, Azriel is not there to investigate. Everyone knows by now that although the Shadowsinger tries his hardest not to make his reasons for his travels to Autumn too obvious.
“Right.” Elain presses her lips into a thin line. “Just a fun night out. Did Gwyn and Nesta join them?”
“Not that I know. I think Nesta mentioned travelling to Windhaven with Gwyn to meet with Emerie.”
Elain hums in answer, unable to trust her voice. Her thoughts start to spiral too quickly, darting into every possible direction and all of them ending in Lucien being surrounded by many stunning fae females that he could become interested in. She quickly murmurs an excuse about being tired, then adds a soft “good night” before turning and darting out of the room. Her thoughts have become too loud, and she needs to get away. She runs through the hallway, up the staircase, and back to her room, feeling oddly on edge and hollow at the same time.
Inside her room, Elain takes a moment to breathe, leaning against the doorframe and closing her eyes. She remembers standing in the same exact spot just two days ago.
Willing her mind to focus on anything else but the almost kiss and Lucien and other females, she peels out of her dress and pulls on her nightgown. She needs to sleep, and then tomorrow morning will come. She will talk to him. She will tell him about her feelings. Nothing will happen at Rita’s tonight. Lucien will return shortly, and she will be peacefully asleep, and tomorrow they will talk. And she will explain everything, Elain thinks as she absentmindedly brushes through her hair to untangle the long strands.
But sleep doesn’t find her easily, and somehow the air inside the room feels louder than ever before. Too thick to breathe.
Even hours later, Elain lies in bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling, sleep seemingly miles away. Her mind refuses to calm down, thoughts still spiraling and mingling with regret. She should have told him how she felt long ago. She should have talked to him. And if she had, he wouldn’t be at Rita’s right now. He would be with her, and they would be kissing and doing all the things that come after kissing. Probably. Maybe.
Maybe not. Maybe he would have rejected her. Maybe after all this time, he doesn’t want her anymore?
Elain forces her eyes shut and inhales a deep breath.
He still wants her. She can see it in his eyes and feel it in the beat of his heart whenever they are close. And he wanted to kiss her two days ago. She has seen it. And felt it.
And here we go again, Elain thinks, her mind still not ready to quiet down. It continues to wander into all sorts of directions and finally circles around the one that hurts almost the most: Lucien surrounded by bright lights, loud music, and many beautiful females. She thinks about their effortless beauty, their wonderful laughter, and how their hands brush Lucien’s body.
The thought twists something sharp and ugly in her chest, and heat coils in her belly. She’s jealous, holy Cauldron, yes, she is. And sad. It is her fault. She should have done something earlier, and now maybe she’s losing him.
Elain flips onto her side with a loud groan, the sheets between her legs impossibly tangled, her body cold from the open window.
At some point, after another twenty minutes of restlessness, Elain flops onto her belly and buries her face in the pillows. She wants to scream, but is afraid she will wake little Nyx if she lets it all out. So, instead, she just groans, loud and frustrated, until the sound of the front door opening and closing makes her sit up straight in bed. They are back!
She jumps out of bed without a second thought and dashes out of the door, towards the staircase from where she can look down into the entrance hall. The sight makes her stop dead in her tracks.
Not only the sight, but also what her brother-in-law has to say to her sister.
“Left the little fox at Rita’s,” Cassian chuckles, shrugging like it’s nothing. Then a grin forms on his lips, wide and reckless. “Probably getting laid by now.” He covers his mouth with his fist to hold back from burping. “Or hopefully.” His loud laugh booms through the entrance hall.
“Cass!" Feyre reprimands immediately as Elain’s heart slumps into her stomach and splinters into a thousand pieces.
“What?” Cassian groans. “Your sister clearly doesn’t want him. He deserves a little fun, a good time with a pretty blonde riding him.” He carelessly flicks his hand through the air.
Cassian often stays here when Nesta is not home, as he doesn’t like being alone in the House of Wind that much. But right now, Elain just wants him to leave and take the words he said right along with him.
How dare he do something like that? He, out of everyone, must know what it feels like.
What Lucien feels like. Not the person rejecting him. Over and over again. Gods… Elain slams her hands over her face while she runs back to her room.
Cassian just wanted to be there for his friend, no longer standing the pain she has been causing Lucien all this time.
She shouldn’t blame her brother-in-law. Or Lucien.
The blame is only on her. For not allowing her heart to love and make decisions.
But still, alongside the pain about the realisation of what she has done, jealousy flares sharply and uncontrollably within her. Earlier, she pictured Lucien with other females … and now it actually comes true?
An ache spreads through her chest – hurt and shame and regret. Her pulse thunders in her ears, drowning out everything else as she heads back to her room and climbs onto the windowsill instead of falling back into her the bed.
Her heart beats frantically within her as the house falls completely silent, telling her that Feyre and Cassian must have gone to bed as well. She sits down on the cool wood, pulling her knees up to her chest and burying her face in her kneecaps, upper arm pressing against the frosted window. It hurts so much, and the jealousy burns like poison in her veins.
She must have actually fallen asleep, the pain and anger within her were probably getting too much and making her body shut down. But it’s the sound of boots in the snow that she’s able to hear through half-open window beside her (her entire body now freezing thanks to it) that makes her lift her head.
Lucien!
He’s coming home!
The beautiful male is walking to the back entrance of the house, his head lowered until he reaches the door, and for a moment, his head tips back, his eyes landing right on her. Elain pulls back immediately, hoping he didn’t see her in the dark room and behind the frosted glass of her window. Was he looking for her? Or did he just take a moment to breathe?
Will he smell of the other female now? Will he smell of quick and careless … sex? Did he enjoy it?
A lump forms in Elain’s throat, her body shivering, and another silent tear makes its way down her cheek. There’s only one way of finding out.
She waits for another few moments to pass, until she can make out the creaking of floorboards outside her room, and a door opening and closing at the end of the corridor.
Then she swings her legs over the windowsill, climbs down, and without a look back, dashes out of her room, her heart hammering against her ribs, her throat burning. But she has to talk to him now. There’s no way she could go without questioning him about his evening.
Elain knocks once, then a second time, harder this time, but the need to confront him makes her rationality fade into nothing, and she grips the door handle a moment later. She opens it with power, bare feet marching over the wooden floor as she walks into her own room. Her nightgown clings to her knees, hair tumbling wildly around her shoulders, breath trembling with fury.
She hates how foolish she feels, but can’t stop either. She hates the power the bond has over her, making her feel like the Mother’s puppet. But is this really only the bond?
Elain doubts it, but has no time to think about it, not when Lucien looks at her with utter shock on his face, shirt open, arms limply at his sides, eyes -both amber and metal- wide open.
“Tell me,” Her pulse thunders, and heat rushes to her cheeks as she realises how she must look, disheveled and desperate. Completely on edge.
What the hell is she even doing here?
But there’s no going back anymore. “Was the night as good as both you and Cassian hoped?”
Lucien takes a moment to catch himself, and then, to her utter dismay, raises a brow, slow and infuriatingly amused. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” she snaps, letting the door behind her fall closed and taking another step into the room.
Lucien crosses his arms, jaw tight. “Oh, suddenly the lady cares? Since when?” A smirk appears on his lips. “You haven’t really cared about my whereabouts before, have you?“
“Just answer me!” Her voice rises a little, turning more shrill than she hoped it would.
“You barge in here like a storm and expect me to grovel and answer you like a good little puppy?” The emissary’s voice sharpens as he takes a step forward. “Why does it suddenly matter to you where I spend time?”
She shivers, furious at herself for all her irrational decisions in the past minutes. She should have just stayed in her room and talked to him the next morning.
Elain lowers her head and gives it a small shake. “I’m sorry. Forget it. This was stupid. I’m an idiot.”
She is about to turn away when Lucien closes the distance between them, his irritation instantaneously fading and changing into something quieter, something akin to sorrow. “Wait.” He lowers his own head, taking a moment to think. “You are upset. Why are you upset? What did you think … what did you mean… fuck– Cassian.” Lucien swallows roughly. “What did he say to you?”
Slowly, her chin lifts, her lower lip trembling. She can’t meet his gaze, not ready to see what’s in his eyes – pity, sorrow…something else entirely?
“Whatever, he said …” Lucien blows out a long, shuddering breath. “Nothing happened. I didn’t go there to find a female for the night. I went there because Cassian wanted me to join him. A female talked to me at the bar, and seemingly, Cassian took it as his cue to leave. When I noticed, I left as well.”
“But where have you been since then?” Eventually, her eyes meet his. She has no other choice. Not when his index finger and his thumb ever so slightly tip up her chin, his caress as light as a feather.
“I would have never gone home with her. I was walking through Velaris, standing by the Sidra for a while just trying to clear my mind and breathe.” He holds her eyes for a moment before he continues. “I didn’t touch her, I didn’t think about sleeping with her. I just… thought of you, my lady.” His throat works on another rough swallow. “I always do.”
The air tightens between them, thickening, and heat rises. His words, his confirmation that nothing happened, and his wonderful words sink in, make her feel warm from the inside out and feel like balm to her soul. It begins to glow, the bond becoming alive within her, laughing and glowing.
Elain’s breath hitches when her eyes fall from her lips to his mouth. Only for a split second, but it’s enough to draw her even closer to him, the invisible thread connecting her to him pulling her closer. Their noses brush, her lips coasting over his, but before she can fully give herself to him, Lucien pulls back sharply.
He drags a hand over his face and mutters a curse under his breath. “This is just the bond,” he grins out. “Or jealousy. Jealousy caused by the bond. Don’t read into it. You don’t really want this. You don’t want this.”
“Lucien—“
“You pushed me away the last time I wanted to kiss you. You were clear-headed then. Now you are driven by the bond.”
“No, that is not—”
“It is.” Lucien presses his lips in a thin line, creating more distance between them.
Elain stumbles back a step as well, her throat tight and burning. Tears blur her vision, but she blinks them back with stubborn pride. Then she turns away sharply, heading for the door, hand curling around the handle, chest rising with a deep breath.
She inhales deeply once more, blows out the breath. After a second, does the same again. She is about to open the door when a fierce pain erupts in her heart. No, not this time. She won’t leave this time. She turns back to him, eyes shining. “Lucien,” she whispers, voice cracking. “It’s… it’s not the bond.”
Her fingers tighten on the doorhandle, knuckles white. “I wanted to kiss you because I want you. I have wanted you for a long time. I just didn’t allow myself to want. This changes tonight.”
She steps away from the door, moving back to Lucien, who stands still in the middle of the room, shoulders slightly hunched, vulnerability bright within his eyes.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for longer than I’ll ever admit. This isn’t magic, or the Mother’s doing. This is not the bond. It’s me. I want you. Every part of my body does.” She swallows and moves even closer. “I want you, Lucien Vanserra. I’ve wanted you for so long. But I’ve been terrified. Terrified of wanting a fae male, terrified of losing whatever mortal pieces of myself I still had left in me.” A tear slips down her cheek, tasting salty on her lips. “I thought I could still protect pieces of my old life. I thought keeping my distance from you would protect me, but all it has done is break me.” She shakes her head, and tears fly away. “I’m not allowing fear to control my life anymore. I want you. I want to be with you. I want you to show me what life with you, what a fae life with you, is like.”
Lucien’s chin drops to his chest, shoulders hunching even more. He exhales a deep breath, and then in a softer voice than ever before, he says, “Let’s talk.”
Together, they settle on the windowsill in his room, opting for it instead of his bed, legs drawn up, feet nearly touching, as they look outside into the darkness. Cold air seeps through the glass. Elain lifts a finger and traces shapes in the frost, flowers, a small heart, and meaningless patterns. Lucien watches her quietly, the faintest, softest smile tugging at his mouth.
“I was scared,” she admits silently. “Of never being able to adapt as my sisters did. Of never fully accepting this life and fitting in.”
He hums, low and understanding. “I know. A lot has changed, and I never expected you to accept everything just as it was. What has happened to you … it’s not easy to deal with. For no one.”
“Being fae has always felt like losing pieces of myself.” She turns to him. “Like I’m no longer Elain.”
“Maybe you are no longer the Elain you once were, but that doesn’t mean it’s something bad.” Gently, he reaches out to pull the strap of her nightgown that has slipped down her bare shoulder back in place, his fingers lingering on her soft skin for a moment longer than intended. “You’re growing, adapting, developing, turning into an even more wonderful version of yourself. But this needs time. Time you are allowed to take for yourself. Time I want to give you.”
“I know.” She flashes him a soft smile. “You’ve always been so considerate. So kind. So warm and understanding. And I’ve always treated you with ignorance. I want to apologise for that. For every moment of pain I’ve caused you. It was never my intention. I just didn’t know how to deal with everything that happened. With myself, foremost all.”
Her hand lifts before she can stop herself, fingers tenderly brushing the rough line of his scar. “I hope she burns in hell for the pain she has caused you.”
Lucien freezes, every muscle in his body stiffening.
“I never want you to hurt again, Lucien. Not because of me, or anyone else.”
She leans in slightly, pushing herself up with the hand braced beside her, and lets her lips ghost over his cheek, his scar. It steals the breath from his lungs, and his eyes close. “I want to kiss you, because I want you.” Elain places a kiss on his cheek again, this time a little lower, closer to his mouth. “Every scar, every place where someone ever hurt you. I want to kiss you everywhere,” she murmurs against his skin, and her lips curl.
Everywhere.
Lucien’s breath catches, then he swallows hard and pulls back just enough to meet her eyes, hooded and pupils now dilated. “Elain… is this really what you want?”
“Yes. You. I want you.” Her chest heaves with a deep inhale. “I’ve been wanting you for so long. It’s a feeling deep within me. A feeling that hasn’t faded in days…” Her voice trembles. “Or weeks…” She draws in a shaking breath. “Or months. It has only grown worse. The desire doesn’t let me sleep or think straight. I want you. Not only physically, but emotionally as well. I want to talk to you, learn everything about you, and be with you. I want you to hold me, to touch me, to embrace me, kiss me and … make love to me. And share everything you love and all your dreams and hopes with me.”
Lucien’s throat works on another swallow, his own eyes growing darker, his chest trembling. “Elain…”
“It’s my fault, I know. I was scared, and I know I should have just talked to you. Earlier, I mean.”
“We’re talking now,” the emissary answers softly. “Good things take time.”
Lucien reaches for her cheek, his thumb brushing away the faint hints of the former tears the same moment she reaches for him again. Their foreheads touch, breaths mingling, and their lips touch. Tentative at first. Then deeper, hungrier, lips meeting in a frenzy, teeth clashing, tongues gliding against one another. And this time, Elain doesn’t pull back. Neither does Lucien.
Elain’s hands slide from his face to his shoulders, impatiently tearing at his shirt to pull it down his arms. He chuckles against her lips, low and rough.
“Elain …” he growls as he captures the side of her face in his large hand. “You’re eager, but I don’t want us to rush things. I want you to really want this.”
“I want this.” She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and slides off the windowsill. “I want you to sleep with me.” Lucien follows her and their lips meet once more, hands now clawing at the clothes of the other with more urgency, and in an instant, Elain’s nightgown and underwear pool at her feet. His shirt falls right beside it, trousers coming loose and landing right on top of the pile just like his underwear and socks.
With ease that is beyond her, Lucien lifts Elain into his arms, not once breaking their kiss or letting go of her.
As he sets off for the bed, Lucien swiftly flicks his hand, and a glamour falls over the room, glittery sparkles dancing through the air for a split second.
“What … what was that?” Elain gasps, legs curled tightly around Lucien’s hips, hands linked behind his neck, breathlessly staring at the glittery haze in the room.
“A glamour,” Lucien murmurs against the soft skin of her neck, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of her backside as he carries her to the bed, his cock throbbing painfully between their bodies. “The sounds you’ll give me tonight are reserved for me, and for me only. If I make you scream my name, then I shall be the only male to hear this.”
Liquid heat pools between her thighs at the sheer territoriality of her mate. Her hips shift, grinding against him as he lays her down on the bed, and climbs on top of her. He lets his hand slide down between them, but instead of grabbing himself, he reaches for her hand. Her hand fits perfectly into his large palm. He gently tugs at it, softly curling her fingers around his cock. She strokes him a few times, their eye contact never breaking.
Lucien’s lips part with a soft moan at her touch. “Whenever you are ready, my lady.“ He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, her nose, and finally her lips.
She brings the broad tip of his dick to her centre, dragging it through the wetness gathered there. A low groan erupts from Lucien, his whole body tensing and eyes closing.
“Cauldron,” he curses as she places him at her entrance. “I’ll try to be gentle. As gentle as I can be with the bond involved.”
“What if I don’t want gentle?” Elain tilts her hips up, urging him inside her. She moans, and her nails bite into the skin of his shoulder. “What if I want the raw version of you. Desire fully unleashed. Need and want and hunger no longer under control. I want you with the desire and need of a male who finally gets to … fuck his mate. I want you to take me, to make me feel good, and use me for your own pleasure as well. I’m yours. From this night on, I’m yours, and you’re mine.“
Her words break every last restraint Lucien still had on himself a moment before. His hips snap, his cock sliding into the hilt, large hands fisting the sheets beside her as a growl tears itself free from his throat.
Their bodies come together in a tangle of limbs, damp skin against damp skin, sounds of breathy moans, whimpers, and soft cries of pleasure filling the air around them.
In the aftermath, as they lie entangled in bed, hearts still beating frantically, Elain’s head reating atop Lucien’s heart, the bond hums within their chests.
And even though, the bond might enhance their feelings, their desire and need, the decision was Elain‘s. She chose him. That one sleepless night in December, she chose her mate.
I couldn't resist revealing my identity the moment I woke up on day 1 of @acotargiftexchange week, so i made you this card! The first part of your actual gift will be coming in a few days' time, but here is a little hint to tide you over 🤭:
Fragment noun
(1) A small piece, broken or separated from the whole.
(2) The missing moments between mates.
I hope you are excited because I am!! 🩷😋😘😈😇
Love,
Santa 🎅🏻
P.S. I hope this actually looks like you, I only had your pfp to go by 😂
pairing: Azris
request: How can I submit request? I would love to see Azriel defending verbally Eris infront rhysand and calling out Morringan for ruining his reputation by lying when he didnt even had time to build one. (for @alexof90s )
warnings: swearing
The room is quiet, too quiet, and cold, and filled with tension so thick one could cut it with a knife. Azriel stands within it, opposite the others, deadly calm, his posture protective, shielding the male behind him. His shadows coil around him, ready to strike if needed. "You said that things had changed," Azriel growls. "That we trust him from now on."
Rhysan’s power flickers like a dark cloud, stretching out and making everyone close to it shiver from the intensity of it. "Trust, yes." He slowly bows his head, eyes hooded. "But trusting doesn’t include fucking."
A chill runs through the room, and Feyre’s fingers curl around her mate’s upper arm. "Rhys," she says softly.
"He’s my mate!" Azriel says, voice loud and bouncing of the walls. "And for all our lives we’ve been wrong about. I’ve slain monsters, demons and creatures of pure evil, and Eris is none of those things. He’s a good male, kind and loving, who has been torn and who he started to hate because of lies." Azriel’s throat begins to ache and silver lines his eyes. "He’s my mate and I love him with my whole heart."
"He’s fooling you!" Mor cuts in sharply, red tipped fingers pressing into the oak of the table in front of her.
"He’s not the one fooling us!" Azriel fires back, eyes flashing with warning as shadows are readying themselves to strike.
"Come again," Rhys says, voice lethally calm, glancing between the spymaster and his cousin.
Azriel’s throat works on a swallow. "You only know the stories we were told. Fake stories."
"You seem to forget what he did to me!" Mor growls, pain flashing in her eyes.
"And you seem to twist the truth, Morrigan. Like you have always done." Eris steps in line with Azriel, his hand effortlessly sliding into the Shadowsinger’s scarred one. „Yes, there’s truth in the lies you told them. I left you there. I did, and I regret it every day of my life. But I left you there after I made sure you would be found, and picked up, and someone would bring you to safety. I may have walked away, but I never left completely. I stayed close to see if you were taken away." The High Lord swallows roughly, his hand holding Azriel’s tighter.
"That day … when I found you, secrets were laid open. We both admitted them out loud, our deepest, most hidden secrets, and I thought we were on the same side, only to find out a short time after that you despised me even more than I thought. That you would blame it all on me and destroy me just so you could keep your secrets." Azriel gives his head a shake, and some tears fly away. Eris holds tighter onto his hand, letting Azriel feel all the love and gratitude he has for him through the bond. It gives Azriel the strength he needs to continue. "I am fucking tired of watching the male I love pay for something he hasn’t done. Mor, if you want to hate someone for what has happened to you, then blame the right people and not the male who saved you."
"I …" Mor begins to stutter and quickly averts her eyes as tears run down her cheeks.
The room seems to hold its breath as both Rhys and Feyre turn to Mor, brows raised in question. Cassian and Nesta follow, their hands also linked.
"Is this true?" Rhys questions.
For a moment, Mor doesn’t react, but then slowly begins to nod. And so she lays open all the secrets that have been held within her for centuries. How Eris found her, and how he discovered her secrets that she likes females. That day, he was honest to her, shared that he liked males and thought that could develop something akin to friendship based on their shared difficulties within a court that would never allow loving the same gender. But he has been wrong, and it took over five centuries to finally bring out the truth.
You found all the words in the word search! Santa is very proud of you 🎅❤️💚
To answer your questions: Santa is doing well! I hope you are having a happy and peaceful end to the year (even though the end of the year is usually the busiest 🥲)
As the gift exchange draws ever closer i want to get to know more about YOU 🫵 so here are some prying questions 😁
1. When did you read acotar and what drew you in?
2. what made you like Elucien? I see you also ship Azris, what drew you to them?
3. Salty or sweet?
4. Favorite tv show or recent watches?
5. What song would you want playing in the background as you commit the perfect crime? What is the crime?
6. Tea, coffee or other?
7. How long have you been writing? What are your favorite kind of stories to tell?
8. If you were a mermaid what color would your tail be?
I can’t wait to be unmasked scooby doo style so we can be bffs ❤️💚😘🎅☃️
See you soon!
Love,
Santa
yay!!!
OOooh yes exciting, I really want to know who you are and if I already know you or not!! I want to know it right noooooooow (sorry, I really do)😭
okay and now to answer your questions:
1. When did you read acotar and what drew you in?
I read acotar in 2021, and what drew me in was booktok; we still had a part lockdown here and my university courses were very demanding and so I downloaded tiktok for a bit of distraction and a while later I stumbled upon booktok and aoctar and then started reading it and loved it and it really got me into fantasy
2. what made you like Elucien? I see you also ship Azris, what drew you to them?
I actually don't really know, I just loved Elucien from the beginning on; I have always loved Lucien as a character and the more we found out about Elain the more I started to like her and also see myself in her a little, and I thought they were perfect for on another
and for Azris; I loved Azriel from the beginning on and the same with Eris, and I there were just so many canon scenes where I was like "omg Azris" (like Eris wearing a cobalt jacket or their fight at the HLM) and I just think it would be amazing if they ended up together
3. Salty or sweet?
sweeeeeeeeeet
4. Favorite tv show or recent watches?
hm let me think, I have seen Wicked just a few days ago and aboslutely loved it, but for TV shows, I think one of my favourites will always be New Girl haha
5. What song would you want playing in the background as you commit the perfect crime? What is the crime?
ooh that is a great question! I could see myself robbing a bank so I could buy all the books in the world and build my own gigantic library and I would love it if Money Money Money by ABBA was playing in the background
6. Tea, coffee or other?
tea!!
7. How long have you been writing? What are your favorite kind of stories to tell?
I also started writing in 2021, around the same time that I started reading acotar (I started on wattpad with a Sirius Black Marauders Era fanfiction)
8. If you were a mermaid what color would your tail be?
Hii ☺️ from the best friends to lovers prompts could you write showing displays of affection that might seem questionable to others around them for Azriel x reader, please
I decided to combine these two! Hope you like the story, you can find it here!
And thank you soooo much for requesting💛
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