#fuck beron he can rot in hell

[florencemtrash]

Brown Eyed Beauty — Lucien x Reader

Fond, childhood memories are few and far between for Lucien. But he's reminded of every good thing when he looks at you.

Author's note: DAMNIT! Brown eyes deserve to be treated with the same tender reverence as any other color. This one is for all the brown eyed beauties (and Lucien lovers) out there.

There was a hidden stream Eris had taken him fishing once, back when he was a stringy child with two eyes and soft hands.

“You’ll need to build up your strength and the calluses on your palms, then the fish won’t be able to slip out of your grasp so easily.” Eris told him, standing up to his knees in the gentle current, pant legs rolled up with the ends dripping. His body was slim as a reed, but strong, and on the cusp of adulthood. Pale bruises were scattered across a pale, freckled chest, purple, green, and yellow.

Lucien watched with bated breath as Eris tracked a shiny, silver-pink body darting between the rocks, his eyes untricked by the bending of sunlight as it dove into the water. 

There. 

Eris leaned down and dipped his hands into the stream with lightning swiftness. “Gotcha.” 

His hands broke the water. The salmon writhed, fighting with every gasping breath and splashing water onto Eris’s already soaking trousers.

“Here.” Eris stretched his arms out to where Lucien stood in the shallows. The salmon was giving up, the rhythm of its whipping body slowing. “It’s tired. Try holding it now.” 

Lucien held on for five seconds before the tail slapped him across the face, startling him so much he dropped the fish and its scaly, sleek body began to race downstream.

“No!” Lucien dove for it, red hair slipping under clear waters. The current was stronger than he expected, or maybe it was just that he was weaker than his brother. He felt something pulling downward, keeping him submerged.

His first response was to panic, to flail his arms and legs out uselessly. But then he stopped. It was peaceful down here, the water so clear that he could catch every grain of sand splashed over brick-brown rocks like stars. Tiny fishes, silky smooth with beady eyes, darted in and out of crevices. Light behaved differently underwater, fragmenting and casting lovely golden shapes on stones the color of fresh-pressed coffee. 

Here it was calm. Here was a place where Beron’s power couldn’t touch him. Here he was safe. 

A strong hand grasped the back of his shirt, hauling him up soaking and sputtering with a brackish taste sliding down his throat. 

The bruises on Eris’s cheekbones stood out on his pale skin, the fright in his eyes turning to anger. 

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Eris yelled and all but tossed his sopping body onto a yellowing patch of grass. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucien mumbled. He sat, shivering in the Autumn chill until Eris caught another salmon and assembled sticks in a neat circle of sand, lighting it with a snap of his slender fingers. 

“Tomorrow we’ll come back,” Eris promised as Lucien sank his teeth into the juicy, pink flesh. The skin was perfectly crisp and grease dribbled down his chin hot and slick. Eris wiped it away with a soft swatch of moss. “I’ll teach you to swim properly.” 

He didn’t seem to mind the descending cold, and for that Lucien was grateful. It meant he would get to keep Eris’s shirt until his was finished drying on the cracked log. 

But unbeknownst to them, Beron had come home earlier than anticipated with their other brothers. Eris was whipped ten times for leaving the Forest House unattended and Lucien was locked in his room for three days. They never went back to that stream — at least not together — and Lucien learned to swim on his own in less forgiving waters. 

Lucien still clung onto the memories of that day. Good memories from his childhood were far and few between. 

“You’re staring again.” You sighed contentedly and shifted in the little cradle of earth you’d claimed for youself. Yellowing, waist-high grasses swayed above you, occasionally bowing down with slender fingers to tickle your cheeks. A hundred yards away the Sidra tumbled over stones, rolled onto gray-sand beaches. The air tasted of salt and seaweed. Crisp, tangy, clear. 

“How did you know?” Lucien asked, and you could hear the gentle caress of his smile in the words.

You cracked open your eyes against the sun’s assault high in the midafternoon sky. Sure enough, Lucien was staring at you, golden eye whirring. You ran a languid finger down the bond, light and airy as a kiss. He braced his arms by your head, sinking down until his body was pressed flush against yours. 

You smiled. “I can feel it. It’s my special talent.”

“Oh?” Lucien chuckled.

“I’ve cultivated it over the years. A product of having a brute like you chase after me like a hound goes after a fox.” Not that you’d ever gone far. 

Scarlet strands of hair slipped out of the braid you’d arranged hours ago. They hung around his elegant, scarred face like liquid fire, casting a warm glow onto his already tanned skin. You tucked them back behind his sharp ears. Traced the curve of his bones until he was leaning into your touch.

“You wound me,” he murmured, kissing your palms. 

You blushed, feeling the brush of his full lips against your sensitive skin. “I didn’t mean it.” 

He smiled — a crooked, boyish smile. “I know.” 

He looked into your coffee eyes. The light bent differently when they touched your irises, curving around the bends like honey, cutting amber crescents at the edges of their rich color. You closed and opened them slowly, letting the light pour in like cream into coffee, swirling and setting them aflame. 

Lucien was back in that stream. The world was still. There was nothing that could hurt him. Just clarity, peace, and the riverbed glittering beneath him. 

“I love you, Y/n.”

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part I

Find more writing here :)

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

Note: A huge, huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who literally deserves all the credit and whose post inspired me to start writing this. I could not stop thinking about this head canon, and it was so kind of you to let me try and make a story from it :)

Part II >>

Lucien tugged at the iron chains around his wrists, the unforgiving metal biting into his skin. He knew there was no chance of escaping, that his fate now rested in the hands of others, but Lucien had hoped one of the links would break and he could take some of the pressure off his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” Lucien mumbled, blood still wet on his lips. He ran his tongue over his teeth to check if they were all there. “Fucking hells.” 

With one last useless pull on his restraints, Lucien gave up on breaking free from his shackles. He decided to take a better look around the small cell he had been thrown into, but even with his golden eye, he had to squint into the darkness. 

Stone walls spelled against magic of any type closed Lucien off from the rest of the world. He could feel damp, cool air against his skin, the type that came from being deep within the earth. He was quite sure his nose had been broken, but he took a shuddering breath. Mingled with the copper scent of his own blood, Lucien could smell dying leaves. 

Home. 

The thought came to him unbidden, thunderous in the silence. Others in Prythian thought that Autumn was rotting, cruel in its beauty, always just on the verge of death. Lucien had always found comfort in the constant state of the court he had been raised in. He had not considered Autumn his home for centuries, and Lucien rushed to shake the idea from his mind. 

He stumbled to the cell’s door, leaning onto the aged wood with all his weight. There was a small circle carved into it, a sorry excuse for a window, Lucien thought. When he pressed his forehead against the opening, and angled his head just right, Lucien could make out an endless hallway. He could see no guards, could hear nothing but the steady beat of his own heart. 

Lucien had been hopeful before, but the chance of him making it out of Autumn alive was starting to look more and more unlikely with each passing moment. Golden eye whirring, he searched for a crack in the wards. 

Lucien felt dread, ice cold, crawling up his spine. No one would come for him, he thought, the panic gripping him like a vice. He would be left entirely at his father’s mercy, alone and forgotten. 

Voice low, Lucien cursed Beron Vanserra for being terrible, and he cursed his brothers for being even worse. He added Rhysand’s name as well, angry for having sent him to handle the issue at Spring’s border. Lucien hissed one last bitter curse before he kicked the door in frustration. 

The action sent a jolt of pain up his entire leg, but being able to release some of that pent up rage managed to make Lucien feel just a bit better. He kicked the door once again with added force, wholly out of character for one of Prythian’s best emissaries. 

When the door shuddered, the ancient hinges screeching as if in protest, Lucien wondered if he had perhaps shattered the ward. As the door slowly opened, though, dim firelight falling through the widening space, Lucien moved faerie-quick to press his back against the rough stone behind him.  

It was a lesson the youngest of children were taught in Autumn, how easy it was for jewelled daggers to meet their mark. It was easier to fight, and to protect yourself, if you only had to worry about what was in front of you. It was a lesson so well ingrained in Lucien’s mind that it had become instinct. 

As the door opened entirely, and a tall figure stepped into the stone arch of the cell, Lucien remembered who had been the one to teach him that lesson in the first place. 

Eris Vanserra, Beron’s most trusted son and the heir to his throne. No one could deny Eris looked like a prince, all Autumn, even without a golden crown set on his blood-red hair. 

Lucien looked from his brother’s leather boots, to his brown pants, to the white shirt laced to Eris’s throat. He couldn’t see a weapon, no dagger hilt warning others that Eris was armed. 

Amber eyes fell on Lucien, lip curling in disgust. He looked disappointed, Lucien thought, before he realised that Eris was within the walls of the cell. 

Mind racing, Lucien glanced past his brother and into the hallway. Perhaps—

“Don’t even think about it,” Eris snapped, the words like a whip’s lash. 

“Fuck off,” Lucien snarled, angry that so much time had passed and yet Eris could still read him like an open book. Lucien looked more closely at Autumn’s heir, but he couldn’t guess just from the expression on his brother's face whether he had come to help, or to do their father’s bidding. 

“Were you always so crude with your words,” Eris raised an eyebrow in question, “or is this the Night Court’s influence?” 

Lucien bowed slightly at the waist, the gesture awkward with his hands still shackled behind him, mocking. “You have my sincerest apologies.” Lucien wanted to strangle Eris, and he hoped the tone of his voice conveyed the feeling well. 

When Eris tilted his head, looking more wolf than faerie, the small golden hoops going up the arch of his ear glimmered in the light from the torches. “Father is not very pleased with you.” 

Lucien made a point to look around the small space he was in. “Thank you for telling me, he hadn’t made his displeasure obvious.” His golden eye clicked into place as he faced Eris. “Is that all?” 

“He wants you dead,” Eris said, voice clipped, but certain. Lucien could see no mercy in that flaming gaze, no care. 

Lucien nodded, unseeing. He had known, from the moment he had been brought to Autumn, that his death would be the likeliest outcome. He was too busy thinking, mind preoccupied with the image of brown eyes, the rich colour of a fawn’s coat. 

I can hear your heart beating through the stone. 

For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop. 

The thought troubled him enough that he turned his attention back to Eris, glaring. “Come to gloat?” 

Eris shrugged, the movement elegant in a way only the best of courtier’s were capable of. “Only partially.” His lips turned down at the corners, the smallest of frowns, before he continued. “If it were up to me, I’d leave you here to rot with the rest of the prisoners. Truly, I could care less about what father decides to do to you.” 

“How kind,” Lucien mumbled, not entirely believing his brother’s words, but not exactly sure where the Autumn heir actually stood on the matter. Once, Lucien had believed Eris cared, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. 

Eris ignored Lucien’s remark all together. “Mother, though,” he continued, “she’s worried about your well being.” 

“Then tell her everything is fine.” Lucien knew the Lady of Autumn had enough to worry about. 

“That would be a lie,” Eris snapped. “Father is one bad mood away from ripping you apart and sending your severed head to Rhysand as a gift.” The words were a hiss, barely a whisper. 

Lucien breathed in sharply. “Eris–” He hadn’t known what he was going to say, but Eris raised a beringed hand, demanding silence. 

“You’re very lucky, Lucien, that I have some spare time in my very busy schedule to do as our mother has asked and find a way to return you to the Night Court.” 

Lucien could imagine his mother, tears in her russett eyes so similar to his own, as she fell to her knees at Eris’s feet, begging for help. He wondered if Eris had spoken to her kindly. 

“All out of the goodness of your heart?” Lucien questioned. He had meant for it to be angry, but instead he sounded exhausted. 

“What heart?” 

Lucien very nearly rolled his eyes. Only in the Autumn Court could people be so dramatic. “You’ll come back for me, then?” He would try to keep his expectations of Eris low. Lucien had learned from the last time he had found himself in a similar situation that hoping for help from his eldest brother was pointless. Then, he had considered it a betrayal, now he knew better, it was simply in Eris’s nature to do things that only ever benefited him. 

Eris smiled, the expression making it seem like he was baring his teeth. The dim firelight was casting long shadows on Eris’s face, the slash of his cheekbones looked glass sharp. “Give me a day or two, little brother.” Lucien flinched at the last two words, more cruel than anything else Eris had said to him since his arrival. If Eris noticed, he chose not to acknowledge it. “If your heart is still beating, I’ll find a way to return you to your High Lady.” 

Eris had a rare gift in his ability to make anything sound like an insult, Lucien thought. Still leaning against the rough wall for support, Lucien nodded in agreement. He knew better than to trust his brother’s word, but for the first time since he’d been tossed into the dungeons, he felt a small spark of hope. 

Eris took a step back, away from the arch in the stone, and Lucien was plunged once more into darkness. He winnowed without a word, the torches going out as he disappeared, and leaving nothing but a few dying embers in his wake. 

The heavy oak door slammed shut, locks falling into place, and Lucien was once again alone.

[iocaisaint]

Random things I'd change in ACOSF

Feeling particularly hateful, don't wanna see it move along

There's actually too many things to fix in canon!Nessian so it's not getting page time actually.

Figure out what Nesta's powers actually are/have 'Lady Death' actually mean something (in my mind she would be able to make things come to bring things back from edge of death, commune with the dead, kill people/parts of people like she can make a hand rot, summon the death trove etc.)

On that note instead of the imprisonment rehabilitation being about drinking /fucking have Nesta hurt someone accidentally (we know she was basically an atomic bomb levels of power AND was using alcohol to drown out powers it would make more sense)

She sequesters herself in Windhaven with Az (who's spending as much time as he can with mom post-war), the IC chooses not to be filthy hypocrites and listens to her when she doesn't want to be around Cassian

She meets Gwyn working in the library trying to figure out her powers. Gwyn storyline is mostly the same, only Gwyn has more of a desire to leave the library but hasn't reached the point in which she can. After their initial meeting Nesta starts helping Gwyn with her work.

Now Emerie! It's time to give my sister a storyline. So, one day when Nesta is out and about she finds Emerie like half-bleeding to death (in this version Nesta isn't in prison rehab so she can leave whenever she wants)

She helps her but Em is like tight lipped as hell as to what happened to her. We find out that Em basically runs an underground railroad type of situation where she takes Illyrian women and children from abusive homes to the more "progressive" camps; when Nesta found her her group had been intercepted and she chose to stay behind. Idk how old Em is but she's been doing this ever since her mother died at the hands of her Dad. I can't think of a better name so let's call them The Dropoffs™

Em and Az DO NOT get along in the beginning. His general feelings towards Illyria Vs her feelings towards the current leadership being functionally useless (she's right)

Em begrudgingly starts training with Az because he is the best and she wants to get better so that she can hold her own during The Dropoffs™ . Az also respects what Em is doing. Nesta doesn't train but offers moral support out 1. Fear 2. She doesn't want to

Nesta off-handedly mentions this to Gwyn, who asks whether she can join (same reason as in canon it would be something that Catrin would do. Nesta asks Az, he's like sure 🤷🏾. So slowly The Valkyries™ are born

Gwyn and Em butt heads initially because of the library. Emerie rightfully questions why she's risking her life when there's a sanctuary for this shit in her home that isn't offered to Illyrians

We find out that Beron & Briallyn are working with Koschei (we don't know the exact terms of the deal and won't find out until the next book)

Have Eris train her (I already know SJM gonna drag the shit out of Beron's death) he needs someone to kill his father, she needs someone who understands her powers.

This will include a side trip to GOT s3 known as the Autumn Court, we get Nesta being the courtier she was supposed to be, we get out of NC and we get Beron dead everybody wins!

We get some questions answered Mor, Jesminda etc.

Nesta & Eris kill Beron after much, much scheming and close calls. HL of Autumn Eris

While this is happening Az is whooping Gwyn and Em into shape decides to be dumb like in canon and show them off to the Illyria men. They get kidnapped for the blood rite.

Nesta is like absolutely not and goes to get them outta there.

She finds them with the bracelets, they've managed to climb Ramiel but Emerie is fucked up between having to basically carry Gwyn there and injuries they sustained along the way.

Nesta tells the Cauldron to go fuck itself in this version, has her one on one with the Mother and basically begs her to heal Emerie. The Mother does and everything including Emerie's wings are healed.

Sprinkled in for necessary character development Nesta coming to terms with her dad dying (we're sticking to the pre-acofas canon of her hating the man so she has actually complex feelings, also her feelings towards Feyre AND Elain, being turned into something she never wanted, her being really good at being courtier but also hating that she relishes in what her mother trained her in)

Also Modest Nesta in!

Lastly, Feyre is rightfully terrified cause her sister just came from murdering the oldest high lord to the blood rite, Nesta apologises for the cabin and also explains why she doesn't want to visit her dad's grave, she tells Feyre she loves her) AND SCENE

If I had to do a romance it would probably be Neris OR Nesta/Emerie cause why not

The only storyline I hate more than Nessian was Feyre's pregnancy so off-page Rhys got over himself called Tamlin and had him shift Nyx's wings so he could be delivered safely and then shifted Feyre's womb afterwards. A hard but ultimately peaceful delivery thank you!

[bookstantrash]

"You look beautiful," Emerie noted, meeting Nesta's eyes in the mirror. But there was no emotion there, beneath the compliment. Not a trace of happiness in either of their faces. — as we say in Portuguese “this party became a burial”

“Would it kill either of you to smile a little more? Your best friend is getting married you know." Nesta touched up her lipstick one last time, looking at the woman in the mirror that looked nothing like her, and yet everything like her at the same time. A perfect pawn. — Oh the defende mechanism of acting like nothing bad is happening WHEN THE PAWN WORD HAS ME WANTING TO COMMIT MURDER

“The ruby color that she’d dabbed generously on her lips was certainly a statement. Perhaps not one that the people in the Church would appreciate, especially not Beron and perhaps not Eris either. But Nesta didn’t care. She remembered the cufflinks Cassian sometimes wore with his suit, the bloodred color they gave off when light hit them. The color he also loved to see on her when he undressed her, she’d later found out. It had become a game then, to send him photos sometimes in just the right lighting, obscuring anything too provocative, but teasing just enough in lingerie the color of desire.” — SHE IS WEARING RED LIPSTICK BECAUSE OF CASSIAN AND THINKING OF HIM FUCKING HELL I AM A SAD PERSON I AM GONNA KILL MYSELF

“The marriage is a sham,” Emerie reminded her.  — Get angry Ems, go off my girl

Gwyn cut her off with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I think what Em is trying to say is that...this isn’t what you would have picked, is it Nesta? If you had a choice I mean.” — SHE WOULD HAVE PICKED CASSIAN

“I don’t have a choice,” Nesta said resolutely. Better to accept it now. She’d filled her friends in on everything from the night the proposal had been announced. Her father’s debts, her work for Nolan, what the marriage would settle for her... — she told them about everything excuse me while I go cry

“Her father frowned at her, scanning her face with worry that she’d never seen before. Worry that perhaps her angry heart hadn’t let her see.” — Is Papa Archeron actually being a nice person now or am I hallucinating?

“You don’t love that man, Nesta.” — no shit Sherlock as if it was possible to love Eris Vanserra, even more NESTA loving him pls what a joke

“I think many people would disagree with that sentiment. Love is the soul of a marriage. It’s the beating heart, if you will. Without it, it’s just a signed certificate and joint mortgage.” He laughed at his own joke, but Nesta didn’t share in the humor. Instead, she let bitter resentment boil up instead. — Pretty words coming from someone whose wife abandoned him

“You’re trying to tell me that you and mom love each other?”

He blinked, not even slightly angry at her accusation. Or insult. “I love your mother very much, Nesta.”

“She didn’t seem to agree when she was cheating on you and left us all to rot.” — LMAOOOOO GO OFF NESTA

“And that makes it okay? She doesn’t care about us, and I’m pretty sure you don’t either, because if you did you never would have stepped foot in that gambling den and lost all our money.”

Her father let her go. “I thought you moved past that. We all did.” — OH HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT HOW CAN SOMEONE BE SO FUCKING DUMB

“Really?,” Nesta hissed. She threw her flowers to the floor. “And how did you manage that with all the debt you racked up? With the knowledge that when Mom left and you completely checked out, it was Feyre who was keeping herself and Elain fed. Because your generous cousin was asking for rent from a fucking child and you couldn’t even be bothered to check up on them after CPS took them away. I mean, your kids were taken away by CPS for fuck’s sake. How did you think any one of us moved past that?” — YES QUEEN TELL HIM WHAT A FUCKING NEGLIGENT PARENT HE WAS

Nesta interrupted. “Yeah. I left. I’m the selfish bitch that ran away. I accept it. But I wasn’t the parent, you were. And when mom left, it was supposed to be up to you to step up. Not your kids. So fuck you for that. And fuck you for today and what I have to do.” — YES ALL OF THE ABOVE WHAT A WAKE UP CALL

True fear like nothing she’d ever seen before in his eyes struck her just as he asked her, “What did you do Nesta?” — oh fucking hell you’re only connecting the dots NOW?!

“The better question is what you didn’t do, dad. What, did you think all that money you owed and all the work you let go would just magically erase itself? Everything has a price.”

“It did erase itself,” he insisted. “Nolan granted forgiveness when I came back to work for him. Our accounts have been cleared for years. We’re doing just fine financially, so if you’re worried about that, and that’s why you’re marrying into the Cosa Nostra, rethink it. You don’t need to.” — IT ERASED ITSELF?! AS IF NOLAN WOULD GRANT YOU FORGIVENESS YOU DUMB IDIOT YOU ARE FROM THE MAFIA!

“Nesta’s father seemed to shrink as she told him everything. The hefty amount of money he had indeed still owed, the training she had been put through to work as an Enforcer, doing the high-risk jobs none of the others in the Outfit dared to do, and eventually the contract. His eyes dimmed out completely as she told him about it and what would happen if she backed out. Possibly, Elain or Feyre would be thrown into her shoes, or the debts would return twofold, or both for even attempting sabotage.” — Finally Nesta is telling them the truth what a fucking IDIOT he is Jesus Christ how did this person join the mafia in the first place

“But thoughts of regret and guilt faded away as soon as her hand was being placed in Eris’ outstretched one, cold as ice against hers. It was jarring to feel skin that was actually colder than hers. Terrifying. Nesta suddenly dashed a look around the room, sneaking it in as she walked the few steps up to the dais and faced the priest.” — I am going to throw up. I’m going to throw up my internal organs and everything

“He hadn’t come. Neither had his brothers. Yet, it seemed that the entire rest of the Cosa Nostra had shown up, besides of course the man she actually wanted there.” — SHE WANTED HIM TO COME BUT HE IS NOT THERE CASSIAN WHERE ARE YOU

“She couldn’t wait to get out of the dress. She’d loved it when she’d first bought it, but while it was gorgeous on the outside, the inside ruffles scratched against her bare legs, and the weight itself was making her sweat. She shouldn’t even be sweating considering it was freezing in the chapel, courtesy of whatever idiot had cranked down the A.C. to near chilling. But even though she had no interest in Eris, and the normal butterflies of what she assumed came from marrying someone you actually wanted weren’t there, she was still on edge.” —PLEASE I HOPE SHE BURNS THAT DRESS LATER AND THE AMOUNT OF THREAD I AM FEELING

“Turn to each other please,” the priest instructed, continuing on his litany of the story of how Nesta and Eris had met, and the love that had grown from them. Bullshit again. There was definitely something between Eris and her, and Nesta was fully convinced it was just antagonism and spite. Nothing good could grow from it. — yeah there’s something there: a mouthful of hate and need to stab eris until he’s in ribbons and dead at Nesta’s feet

“Someone moved in the car, and suddenly the passenger door was swinging open, revealing Azriel as he stepped out. Nesta jolted slightly, and as Eris nodded at whatever the priest had said. The prick seemed to chastise her with a glare. His hands, holding her own, seemed to tighten warily, and Nesta controlled herself. The emotions threatening to bubble over.” — AZRIEL IS HERE WHICH MEANS THAT CASSIAN IS ALSO HERE YES YES YEEES

“Say I do,” Eris muttered, tightening his grip around her fingers. It was almost a warning and she could see him dart a fearful glance towards the pew where his father was seated. She knew that look. She’d probably sported it herself more times than she could count whenever her mother was in the same room with her. — I know I’m supposed to feel about Eris but guess what? I DO NOT!! He was rude, an asshole, used violence and threats against Nesta and he’s a man, so his condition is infinitely less worse than Nesta’s.

“What would he lose if she said no? Bowed out right now and walked away? Had she been wrong in her assumptions about the importance of this marriage for just her and not him, and how much they both had to lose from it being called off?” — I can’t find empathy for Eris. I just can’t because he approached the situation with Nesta absolutely wrong. If he also had fears and stuff being held against him he should have talked properly with Nesta to try and get both of them out of this shit. Sucks to be you Eris

“She wasn’t ready. It was too soon. Maybe it wasn’t even right. But all Nesta knew, in that moment, as she stared at Eris, expectant and nervous, and the priest behind them, anxious and confused, was that she didn’t know what to do.” — IT IS DEFINITELY NOT RIGHT AND YOU SHOULD JUST RAN AWAY NESTA RUN

“I’m ready to give you all of me. I’ve been ready to be yours for so long. Be mine.

Nesta tried to quiet the reminder in her head, the confession Cassian had given her all those months ago that she’d forced herself to ignore. But for all the bravado she could usually muster, she somehow managed to stay silent.” — PLEASE SHE IS REMEMBERING CASSIAN’S LOVE CONFESSION TO HER FUCK I AM SOBBING

“You always do as you’re told?

Cassian had challenged her with that question from the very first day, and somehow, someway, here he was still haunting her even all these years later.” — SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING THROWING UP

“Cassian. His voice. His words. His scent. The way he held her when they were together. The way he challenged her. The one she could always count on whenever she called. 

A friend. A lover. Everything in between the two and more.” — I AM DEAD! I AM SUPER DEAD JESUS NESTA THINKING ABOUT CASSIAN AND HOW MUCH HE LOVES HER AND HOW SHE WAS STUPID TO DENY HERSELF OF HER FEELINGS BRILLIANT

“She hasn’t agreed yet,” the man insisted, his black robe billowing from the jolt that seemed to go through the priest as he responded.

“Who gives a fuck?”  — I GIVE A FUCK AND YOU SHOULD TOO YOU BIRD BRAIN!! THERE IS SOMETHING CALLED CONSENT JESUS FUCK I HOPE YOU GET SHOT OR SOMETHING

“She’s going to be my wife,” he began speaking calmly. Nesta wasn’t easily unnerved by Eris but she swore she felt a shudder course through Gwyn standing behind her. “She’s wearing my ring. She’s wearing the dress that I paid for. We have the lawyer here with us to sign the certificate right after. She’s going to go to get her last name changed to mine tomorrow. She will be my wife before the day is out, so Father,” Eris growled out, “either help me or I’ll find someone else who can.” — OH HE IS GONNA GET FUCKED UP HE DEFINITELY IS GONNA GET FUCKED UP YOU ABSOLUTE PRICK

“You are mine. Today. Tomorrow. Ten years from now. A ring and a wedding doesn’t change shit about it.” — FUCK FEMINISM WHO NEEDS IT WHEN YOU HAVE CASSIAN SAYING THIS TO YOU

“What are you doing?,” Eris demanded. Nesta took the veil off from her head, throwing it to the ground along with the diamond encrusted clip it had been held to in her hair. Gasps, likely from her mother more than anyone else, sounded around her, and what had once been carefully concealed whispers exploded into a much louder buzzing through the air. — YES YES THE RUNAWAY BRIDE LOOK LOOKS AMAZING ON YOU SWEETIE

Her mother hissed in her ear. “Don’t you dare. This is not a match that you can pass up, nor will I allow you to try. Get back up there, now.” — OH FUCK OFF YOU HEINOUS WITCH

“It was exactly at that moment then, that Nesta fortified her decision. She’d figure out a contract loophole another way, maybe even take Cassian’s help and hire his lawyers to look for her. But she wouldn’t marry Eris.

Couldn’t.

Not when her heart lay elsewhere, with another man, who she didn’t even know she could face anymore after what she’d almost done.” — YES YES FUCK YES I AM JUMPING IN JOY

“Somewhere further in the chapel she heard rapid fire gunshots go off, echoing off the walls and mingling with the added screaming as panic doubled in the room.” — cannot believe I manifested Eris getting shot. Brilliant. I love a good wedding crash

“And her groom-to-be, though not an urgent concern for her, was also missing.” — Wasn’t he oh so worried about her? You can’t very well marry a corpse, can you you little shit? Stupid asshole

“You blew up my wedding?”

“No! Well, I mean we were going to blow it up. Sort of. Not like this though. This is…shit.” Nesta grabbed Azriel tighter as another round of booming sounds went off around them, and they both ducked. When nothing fell in on them, Azriel made the first move to keep them pushing forward. — LMAOOO I LOVE THIS INTERACTION IT IS SO CHAOTIC

“We didn’t exactly plan it out this far ahead,” Azriel added after they bumped painfully into something hard and splintered and Nesta yelped.

“Did you plan it out at all?,” Nesta hollered angrily over the noise. — IT GOT BETTER HAHAHAHSH

“Except it never came. Strong, muscled arms wrapped itself around her waist in lieu of Azriel’s disappearance and let her fall into the solid, warm person attached.” — CASSIAN DADDY CASSIAN IS HERE

“I got you, bella. I’m here,” he whispered against her brow as she sagged in relief against him. — SOBBING SCREAMING FAINTING

“Don’t talk. Just breathe in some air. Get her some water Az. Please.” A flurry of activity was going on around her but Nesta could only focus on the masculine scent that had enveloped her senses and was holding her close. 

God, how she’d needed him earlier. And how he had come to the rescue, just as he always did. — he’s so worried about her and trying to be so gentle and Nesta is so relieved he’s there I am going to KILL MYSELF I LOVE THEM

“Cassian didn’t stop rubbing his hand along her back, or holding her almost limp form up, but he did seem to stiffen and that woke Nesta up from whatever smoke-induced haze she’d been under.” — He’s so caring. He’s the finest man to have ever walked in earth, other men wish they were Cassian

Cassian tensed, about to speak, but before he could, Rhys spoke instead. “It was me. I ordered the hit on him.” He looked at Nesta imploringly, and before he even said the words, Nesta knew the truth. “I was the one that got Clare killed. Accidentally, but…it was me. Cassian didn’t tell you because he’s my brother and, you were set on vengeance. If you’re going to blame anyone, blame me, not him.” — Oh wow, cannot believe Rhysand is saying that. Well done, kudos to you

“And to her shock, she couldn’t find it in herself to hate Rhysand. Not when she saw the regret in his eyes or the apology behind them. A mistake. That’s what Cassian had told her it had been all those months ago, but she hadn’t wanted to accept it.” — You know what’s that? We call that growth, I’m so proud

Cassian tightened his hold on her, as if he were afraid she may disappear from sight if he didn’t hold on properly. “What does he have to do with the Irish?” — HE IS SO AFRAID OF LOSING HER AGAIN PLEASE

“Mom was injured in the explosion. They’re both in the hospital but Dad’s only there to stay with her. I don’t want to lie to you Nesta, so I won’t. It doesn’t look too good for mom.” Nesta sucked in a ragged breath but Feyre kept going. “I know you think you need to stay here and take care of us. And I know part of that is because of me and you trying to make up for something that was out of all our hands at the time. So I’m telling you, right now, please go. Come back when it’s safer and we’ll both be here waiting for you.” — do I feel empathy towards that horrible woman? I do not, I’m sorry. AND YES FEYRE YOU TELL NESTA TO RUN AWAY WITH HER MAN SUPPORT YOU SISTER YES

“Nesta didn’t let herself cry in front of them, not if God forbid this was the last time she ever saw them again. But she did return Elain’s hug, passing it onto Feyre as well, and murmuring warnings to both of them to stay safe under her breath. Azriel tossed Cassian a pair of keys and he led her solemnly to the black SUV, opening the door for her before walking around and sitting beside her.” — Oh nothing like some sisterly bonding after your raided wedding and a bullet exchange between enemy mafia families

“She didn’t question that either. Not the plane, not the secret flight going to Gods knew where, or the obviously private staff that was accompanying them. Nesta ignored them all, as well as the three bodyguards that had suddenly appeared from a car behind them that she hadn’t even seen. How much planning had gone into all of this, she had no idea. She couldn’t even fathom how Cassian had pulled it off in such a short amount of time, but she kept quiet even then, having lost all appetite for words as the weight of the day’s events hit her.” — HE TOOK CARE OF EVERYTHING AND IS MAKING SURE NESTA IS WELL CARED FOR GIVING HER FOOD AND CLOTHED WHY DON’T I HAVE A CASSIAN TOO

“When she’d settled back into her seat, now more comfortable in her own clothes, makeup washed off and hair braided loosely, Nesta finally felt a little more like herself again. Cassian didn’t push her into speaking or doing anything more than asking her to eat when the stewardess came around with dinner, or to sleep when it was nighttime. Nesta did both robotically, but she did them all the same, letting him lead her to a bed in the back of the plane where he left her to sleep.

And it was only when Cassian returned after a quick conversation with the captain, and joined her under the covers, and wrapped his arms around her, letting her tuck herself closer into his chest, did Nesta finally feel at home.” — this. THIS WHOLE TWO PARAGRAPHS AND OMG NESTA CALLING CASSIAN HOME SUCH A THROWBACK TO ACOSF CHAPTER 58 I AM SOBBING I AM A MESS THIS IS PERFECTION I CAN DIE A HAPPY WOMAN NOW

Made (Nessian Mafia AU)

A/N: This was originally supposed to be a light-hearted chapter and kind of funny towards the end when [redacted] but then I realized, no, I want to make it dark and gritty and keep driving the plot forward, especially since it’s been mostly vibes lately. Thank you so much to @bookstantrash for listening to my very long, very wild ideas for what I planned to do this chapter, especially since I then didn’t do them :/. As always, I hope you enjoy!!! Reblogs and comments are always welcome and very appreciated.

Warnings: Violence, language

Masterlist here!

~*~

Part XII

“I breathe when you breathe, I bleed when you bleed. I’m yours and you’re mine. you’ve always been mine, and I have always, always belonged to you!”- Cassandra Clare

~*~

Gwyn adjusted the veil atop Nesta’s head, flaring out the bottom, artfully arranging it to follow her regally as she walked down the aisle.

“You look beautiful,” Emerie noted, meeting Nesta’s eyes in the mirror. But there was no emotion there, beneath the compliment. Not a trace of happiness in either of their faces.

And that wouldn’t do.

Keep reading