Tag: elain archeron

HMMMMMMMMM….. the first prompt idea that came to my mind was something I wrote in TMOAS but I don’t want to do that one hehe oops um.. elucien maybe something like they go to the beach and one of them gets super sunburned? Maybe Lucien bc he refused to wear a sun hat like hers, or put on sunscreen

foxboylucien:

Funny that you request this as I’m currently nursing my poor sunburned chest

anyway, here it is! Short and sweet and totally fun to write

Elain sat straddling Lucien, but not for the reason she wanted.

If he had listened to her, they could be doing something far more than spreading aloe vera on a sunburn.

“I told you to use that raspberry oil to prevent a burn, my love.” She scooped more gel from the succulent plant and spread it across his red and abused shoulders. The skin underneath her fingers was still hot from the day in the sun.

“I forgot,” Lucien murmured. He had leaned his head back and now his eyes were half lidded. “We were having too much fun.”

Indeed, Elain’s first beach day had been fun. Her and Lucien’s vacation to the Summer Court had been nothing but fun, until she caught sight of Lucien’s red shoulders, chest, and nose.

“Not so much fun now, is it?”

“It’s not all that bad.”

“Lucien, you look like a strawberry.”

“Ah, but I get to have your hands all over me now,” he winked.

Elain slapped his chest as hard as she dared. “You’re a scoundrel, you know that?”

“You may have told me once or twice. But you’ve also called me and angel, and a god, and what was that thing you said about my fingers?”

“I may have told you again tonight if you hadn’t gone and gotten yourself a sunburn.” Elain put her hands on Lucien’s cheeks and angled his head to be facing her. His eyes opened fully, the metal one whirring. Almost absently, he leaned in closer. With a smirk, Elain pulled away. “I suppose you’ll just have to wait.” She slathered aloe on his nose.

Lucien would not doubt remember to protect his skin from now on.

edit: forgot the tags, oops:  @lady-katkat @illyrianbeauty @mariamuses @hxghlady @runesandfaes @lorcanswife @wolffrising @faelightsstarfall @acourtofredqueens @halcyon-havoc @highlady-of-night @my-ships-will-never-be-sank @musicmaam @starzablaze @abimomeopectore @rhysand-darling @alexisnm95 @destiny14444 @leulivy @ame233 @rosehallshadowsinger

HMMMMMMMMM….. the first prompt idea that came to my mind was something I wrote in TMOAS but I don’t want to do that one hehe oops um.. elucien maybe something like they go to the beach and one of them gets super sunburned? Maybe Lucien bc he refused to wear a sun hat like hers, or put on sunscreen

Funny that you request this as I’m currently nursing my poor sunburned chest

anyway, here it is! Short and sweet and totally fun to write

Elain sat straddling Lucien, but not for the reason she wanted.

If he had listened to her, they could be doing something far more than spreading aloe vera on a sunburn.

“I told you to use that raspberry oil to prevent a burn, my love.” She scooped more gel from the succulent plant and spread it across his red and abused shoulders. The skin underneath her fingers was still hot from the day in the sun.

“I forgot,” Lucien murmured. He had leaned his head back and now his eyes were half lidded. “We were having too much fun.”

Indeed, Elain’s first beach day had been fun. Her and Lucien’s vacation to the Summer Court had been nothing but fun, until she caught sight of Lucien’s red shoulders, chest, and nose.

“Not so much fun now, is it?”

“It’s not all that bad.”

“Lucien, you look like a strawberry.”

“Ah, but I get to have your hands all over me now,” he winked.

Elain slapped his chest as hard as she dared. “You’re a scoundrel, you know that?”

“You may have told me once or twice. But you’ve also called me and angel, and a god, and what was that thing you said about my fingers?”

“I may have told you again tonight if you hadn’t gone and gotten yourself a sunburn.” Elain put her hands on Lucien’s cheeks and angled his head to be facing her. His eyes opened fully, the metal one whirring. Almost absently, he leaned in closer. With a smirk, Elain pulled away. “I suppose you’ll just have to wait.” She slathered aloe on his nose.

Lucien would not doubt remember to protect his skin from now on.

edit: forgot the tags, oops:  @lady-katkat @illyrianbeauty @mariamuses @hxghlady @runesandfaes @lorcanswife @wolffrising @faelightsstarfall @acourtofredqueens @halcyon-havoc @highlady-of-night @my-ships-will-never-be-sank @musicmaam @starzablaze @abimomeopectore @rhysand-darling @alexisnm95 @destiny14444 @leulivy @ame233 @rosehallshadowsinger

I am basically Elain guys

flowers make me incredibly happy (my favourite ones are in bloom right now!) and I’m gonna start baking at work in a few weeks (I’ve always loved baking but now I’m doing it for realz)

realizing this made me so happy

Beautiful (Elucien)

just a little scene I got inspiration for while enjoying the beautiful weather from my back deck. not anything special but I thought I’d share 🙂

tags: @lady-katkat @rkjar1646 @mariamuses @hxghlady @runesandfaes @lorcanswife @wolffrising @faelightsstarfall @acourtofredqueens @halcyon-havoc @highlady-of-night @my-ships-will-never-be-sank @musicmaam @starzablaze @abimomeopectore @rhysand-darling @alexisnm95 @destiny14444 @leulivy @ame233

I find Elain in the garden.

She is sitting with her face toward the sun, like a flower searching for light. Her eyes are just barely closed, as if she were drifting off to sleep. Her bare legs stretch out before her.

I walk up behind her and fix the shawl that has fallen from her shoulders. She does not move, but I sense through the bond that she knows I am here. Without a word, I sit next to her on the cool grass. I feel the damp cool of the early Spring ground, and wish that one of us had brought a blanket.

The sun warm me, though. I feel its heat on the top of my head, and turn my face to the light, as Elain already has. I close my eyes and listen.

Wind blows through the still bare branches of the trees. The first of the Spring birds chirp their melodies, frogs croak in the pond. Two chipmunks squeak at each other from sides of the garden.

Distantly, I hear the bustle of Velaris, but here, it’s just me, Elain, and the garden.

The moment holds a hundred years worth of feeling.

A breeze cools my now warm cheeks, blowing strand of hair in my face.

Elain reaches across the small distance between us and takes my hand in hers. Her delicate fingers are cold in mine. She brings our clasped hands to her chest, right against her heart, which is beating slow and evenly.

I absently rub my thumb along the side of her hand.

I’m not sure how long we stay like this. I rest my head on her shoulder, and she leans into me. Our legs become entangled like the roots of the trees around us. We become a part of the scene–one with renewing garden.

The sounds carry on, the wind continues to blow.

But we are frozen in time, holding on to the moment.

We relish in our existence, and the beauty of it all.

For the prompt thing: Elain fiercely protecting her child from a naga or something?

Elain sprints as fast as her legs can carry her. Her lungs burn and her body threatens to give out at any moment, but she doesn’t stop. Not with him behind her. Not with her child clutched against her heaving chest. She should have known he would find her again, that she would never be safe.

Visions of dark, cold, unforgiving water flash through her mind. She feels it as if it’s really there, forcing its way down her throat, into her lungs, stinging her eyes. The memory clears after a moment, but the terror doesn’t. She holds her daughter closer still and runs faster, dodging trees and underbrush as she comes to the edge of the wood.

Branches scratch at her face and arms, thorns at her legs, but she keeps going. All she knows is that she must run. The sound of branches snapping and leaves crunching behind her tells her that he is still coming, getting closer and closer as her body begins to fail.

Knowing it is the only option left, she reaches for the small dagger at her hip. She places one last kiss to the face of her sleeping babe, and leaves her in between two roots of a tree, praying to any gods that are listening that she will be safe. The child does not stir.

Elain starts to run again, leading him away from the tree that protects her precious daughter. When she is a safe distance away, she turns and faces her enemy.

She stares into the eyes of the King of Hybern, and he stares back.

She raises her dagger with a shaking hand, backing away a few steps. “I killed you before, and I will do it again. No matter how much you torment me, you will always reach the same fate.”

The King laughs, the sound echoing through the trees like a summer wind. “You cannot kill me,” he says, his voice echoing the same as the laugh, “I am the one who made you this way.” He advances, dagger in hand, and Elain catches the scent of rot and decay.

With a dense line of trees and bushes behind her, Elain has no choice but to fight. She brings to memory all the fighting techniques she had been taught since she became fae–techniques she hoped she would never have to use. She takes up the wide-legged stance she was taught, and when the King attacks, she is ready to deflect with her dagger.

She does not hit flesh, but is successful in dodging this first attack. She anticipates his next move, but only barely misses the sharp blade. Pain shoots up her arm, but she knows it could have been much worse.

He advances again and again, until Elain is nearly too tired to carry on, close to giving in. But by some miracle, some blessing from the Mother, an opportunity arises. A broken tree branch juts out behind the King, and with a final burst of energy, she pushes him, suffering a long slice from his blade in the process.

The King falls back onto the branch, pierced through the stomach. Elain sinks to her knees on the forest floor, struggling to catch her breath.

Then, before her eyes, the lifeless form of the King transforms into dust and water, air and flame. It blows away on a breeze, leaving nothing in its place.

Elain had heard stories about the puca. They disguise themselves in order to capture and devour you, and are immortal but can be killed. But the terror of seeing the king does not go away with the knowledge that he was never really there.

Elain does not allow herself to weep. Not until she hold her child back in her arms, not until she is safely back in the field, where her picnic blanket and basket wait. She does not begin to weep until she is back in her home, her daughter asleep in the nursery. Not until after she tends to her wounds. But when she does start, and tears come hot and heavy down her cheeks, she does not stop for a long time.