I can’t be the only one who struggles to imagine Eris with long hair and a GINGER at that another Lucien? Nah .. I lowkey kinda imagine him with short platinum hair
lucien catching fishes with his bare hands? talented. sleeping naked? brilliant. calming a raging mate with two words only? incredible. calling amarantha out right in her face? amazing. having fire in his blood and fucking like it too? show stopping.
“thoughts slammed into me, images and memories, a pattern of thinking and feeling that was old, and clever, and sad, so endlessly sad and guilt-ridden, hopeless”
“betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins”
[after elain said he betrayed them] “he wished she’d shoved him out the window behind her”
lucien had been battling with survivor guilt for decades, if not more. he spent all this time firmly believing that he got his mate brutally murdered for loving him. he was blamed by her people for this. then he found out that she wasn’t his mate at all—instead, it was another female that suffered because of his indirect involvement. it’s his worst nightmare replaying all over again.
I’m guessing that elain feels so uneasy in his presence because, as his mate, she can feel all of it too—guilt for what happened to her, guilt for his former lover dying in vain, guilt for longing for another despite barely knowing her. terrible, terrible things to feel when you don’t know each other enough to allow and accept this vulnerability. of course it’s awkward. the mating bond’s nature is very intimate and they just met. of course it’s uncomfortable and complicated. yet elain never says that her problem is with lucien personally. she circles around him in acowar, eyes sparkling at the sight of him, taking a step as if to stop him from going after vassa, following him after the battle and peering at him curiously, inviting him to velaris. the book ends on a positive note for them, as if she is willing to try. but then he never gets to velaris and only visits every now and then. they’re both ignoring each other because, as mor pointed out in acofas, they aren’t ready for it. that doesn’t mean they won’t find each other at the end. it’s a very sjm thing to do.
where did the idea that sjm hates or wants to get rid of lucien even come from, she mated him first with nesta then elain, whom she absolutely adores, gave him powers of both autumn and day court and clear connections to spring and human lands, made helion his father, can’t have a single character addressing him without mentioning how handsome he is or how well he’s dressed, and writers paragraphs on the sun reflecting on his hair like a lovesick teenager. someone’s projecting.
when elucien happens, I hope it’s elain making the first move. I need her to yank him down to her level and kiss him senseless, leaving everyone shocked out of their mind and lucien too flustered to cope. I know my girl will never be caught waiting for males to come around again, and I know lucien will love every minute of it.
Reblogging to add a crack theory based on something discussed in @offtorivendell’s amazing post on Theia (credit for this research and line of thinking also goes to @wingedbloomsand@psychee92).
In Greek mythology, Theia had three children: Eos (the dawn), Selene (the moon), and Helios (the sun). Helena seems like she might represent Selene, the moon. We know Theia also had a second daughter—could she represent Eos, the dawn?
Of course, the question is whether Theia only had 2 children, or might she have had a third, a son. @offtorivendell theorizes in the post I linked above that the son might be Pelias, which is a fascinating theory. But I wonder if the son actually remained in Prythian, and if that son is the direct ancestor of Helion. I mean, this would make sense given Helion’s name. And it would also explain why Helion reacted to the mask’s presence how he did—it’s likely because his ancestor interacted with the mask 10,000+ years ago. So this would mean Helion and Lucien are direct descendants of Fionn and Theia and are starborn, and that Feyre has that starborn power in her veins from Helion as well.
Also interesting about this, of course, is the parallel to the Archeron sisters. Nesta has been described as the moon, and would thus be Helena’s heir. Elain has been described as the dawn, and would be the second daughter’s heir. And then of course we have Feyre, who is called a star, and whose light is bright white like Helion’s—the heir of the sun?
And would this mean that Theia’s children/heirs have essentially been reborn, either for the final battle against Koschei (to finally defeat him), or for the upcoming fight against the Asteri?
Summary: After you and your mate escape the Autumn Court into Spring, you have constant nightmares about being captured and brought back. This is you telling your mate you’re scared.
Warnings:None.
Word Count: 864
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“What’s wrong?” Lucien asks, sitting up stock straight next to you, chest heaving as he frantically searches the room, eye humming softly as he scans the room for danger. He can feel your rapid heartbeat in his chest, his matching yours as the frozen terror you felt from your dream burns like ice in his veins.
“What–” your breath catches in your throat, hugging your knees tightly to your chest, eyes brimming with tears that you can barely hold back. The silk sheets beneath you are damp, it’s much hotter than the Autumn Court. “What if they come after us?”
“They can’t,” Lucien responds softly, placing a hand gently on your back, rubbing a familiar pattern up and down. “They can’t enter the territory. We’re safe here.”
“Just because they can’t enter the Spring Court for territory reasons doesn’t mean that they won’t,” you say, picking at your cuticles and chewing on your lip. You refuse to look over at him, afraid that you’ll see the disappointed look on his face. “You know how your family is.”
His eye whirrs, irritated. And he’s thinking that he does know who his family is. His father is powerful, but he would never enter the Spring Court, never cross that line, too lazy to do the dirty work himself. No, he’d make someone else do it.
Most likely one of his siblings.
But not Eris. Lucien knew that both of you were safe from his oldest brother and he could relax with that thought alone – that his most powerful and intelligent kin would not volunteer nor accept the demand to find the both of you, even if it meant answering to his fathers fists.
“He wouldn’t dare send them after us,” Lucien’s voice is shaky and his hand stops its trail up your spine, slipping down onto the bed where the sheets are still warm from where you were lying not so long ago. “Not after–”
“Please,” you choke, cutting him off, throat burning with tears, “Don’t.”
Not after he killed his brother and Tamlin slaughtered the other.
You couldn’t hear him say it aloud, the basis of your nightmare. His brothers chasing after you with wild eyes and feral grins, teeth glinting like the blades of their knives. It hadn’t been pretty, but the two of you had gotten away and were still together, at least you had that.
You and your mate sit in silence, trying to calm your breathing and to take your mind off of the harrowing events that happened only a fortnight ago.
You haven’t been able to sleep since. Your stomach in knots, churning throughout the day and into the night, the constant fear of one of the Autumn Court family members or courtiers coming to drag you back always in your mind. You knew Beron has spies, some of the best in Prythian, and they would surely be sneaky enough to murder you without a whisper.
You’d hardly even left the luxurious estate, though both Lucien and Tamlin tried. The High Lord even offered you protection from his best warriors, a promise that you were safe in his lands, but you’d politely declined, hiding your trembling fingers behind your skirts.
“Tamlin says that we’re safe,” Lucien breaks the silence, his voice quiet. You don’t quite believe him.
“Well I don’t trust him either,” your response is nearly inaudible, wondering if the High Lord of Spring has his own spies.
“Why?” And it’s not an accusation. A genuine question from your mate, and you finally set your gaze on him, showing him the utter fear in your eyes, flooding the bond with your fear.
“Because he killed the High Lord of the Night Court.”
Lucien bites back the retort threatening to escape his throat. He doesn’t want to upset you further. Instead, the amber haired male pulls you tight into his arms, reclining backwards into the bed, your head resting on his chest as he holds you close. Pressing kisses into your forehead and pushing every ounce of love he holds for you through your bond, you relax slightly, shutting your eyes and breathing in his familiar scent.
He knows exactly what kind of crimes Tamlin has committed in the last few centuries, knows the entirety of the muddied tale between Spring and Night, who murdered who. But for some reason Eris trusted the Spring Lord, and he trusted his brother. Until he could think of a better plan to protect you, this was all he could do.
“I will protect you with my life (Y/N), I can promise you that. I love you too much to let anything happen to you.”
You look up at him, hand resting over his steady heartbeat beneath your palm. His eyes are earnest, caressing your cheek with a light touch.
“And I love you too. But I don’t want to live if I am not with you, Luc,” you admit, “It’d hurt too much.”
“Then let’s just live tonight,” he responds softly, brushing your hair behind your ear, using the hand to slide around the back of your neck and pull you into him fully, meeting your mouth in a long, passionate kiss.
summary: set in the future after acofas & koa | Prythian and Erilea have been opened to each other ever since a portal connecting the two worlds was found. Queen Aelin Galathynius has signed a secret peace treaty with the High Lady and High Lord of the Night Court, thus fortifying their friendship, and the union of their families. But when the other High Lords of Prythian discover the Night Court’s secret friends, they are intent on seeing them as foes, and Eris Vanserra is ready to take the opportunity to further destroy what little is left of Prythian’s unity.
In a world remade by peace, you can hear the faraway drums of war that can - and shall - destroy it once again.
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tw:verbal, emotional and physical abuse; sexual themes; violence & gore
rating:explicit
masterlist | ask box | gen 2 page | tog + acotar gen 2 family tree
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<—– PROLOGUE PART 3
CHAPTER ONE —–> (coming soon!)
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~the worlds, books, and any recognizable characters belong to sarah j maas~
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A century or so ago
Northern Fields, Autumn Court, Prythian
Her wedding day is uneventful, full of boorish people and, to make matters worse, it pours down the entire time.
Annika detests the rain as much she detests her new husband.
Emilian Ardor has the wry smile of a hunter with an easy prey’s blood soaking his clothes. He drinks the day away, flaunting his wealth, flirting with the musicians, and stuffing his mouth with enough sweets to feed an entire village.
Despite this, Annika supposes that she can find a few reprieves in the middle of this rather lamentable situation. For one, when she declared she did not wish for her family to come, Emilian’s reply was a simple shrug, so she was spared having to look at her father’s face and trying to hide the desire to spill his blood on the white petals covering the ground. And though she has spent the last hour being dragged around by her husband’s arm to greet his… friends, he has not spoken more than four words to her since their vows, nor has he attempted to touch her more than it is considered necessary. Besides, the ceremony begins and ends before she can bask in her revolt, and her husband’s wine has been satisfactory enough to keep her company since then.
They dine alone in his ostentatious table, candlelight between them. Annika has traded her gown for a simple tunic and dark trousers to match. She had no intention of impressing his friends before with that appalling excuse of a dress, and she certainly has no intention of impressing Emilian now with the clothes she feels most comfortable in.
