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#beron is a bitch ass loser
nikethestatue · 30 days
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Please acotar reddit is a complete shithole. The mods are so horribly biased it's not even funny like they'll lockdown not just any elriel post but even any pro feyre post over a lame ass reason while there are people saying completely wild shit. Loser (l.ucien) stans are always having a pity party about how feyre is a bitch for not bathing, feeding and wiping his ass, elain so weak and useless! And of course there's always tamlin dickriders with their "tamlin is actually SO interesting and complex and the inner circle is SO evil! Poor baby tamlin" posts and lately we have Keir, beron and amarantha stans too. It's a lovely place for clowns I guess.
That place is wild. The number of people crying over Tamlin is alarmingly high, which is weird, because he is just not that interesting. At. All. You dont have to hate him or whatever, but to YEARN for Tamlin is wild.
I remember once, someone said, in a fairly polite way, 'how do we get new mods?' and the mods proceeded to .... ban the person for life.
So democracy is alive and well there. The biases are so egregious it's unbelievable, but that's why so many people stopped going on there. I hardly ever peek at that sub, because it's all the same shit. Should I read the books? (I don't know, nobody fucking cares if you read or don't read. Make a decision and stop asking strangers for advice.) I hate Nesta! (Congrats, you want a medal?) I hate Elain! (Congrats x2. This is a genius comment.) Lulu booboo gugu wuwu doodoo (got it, you love Lucien.) IC Sucks! (Cool. No one cares actually.)
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hellas-himself · 6 years
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Where There Are Shadows Pt26
AKA in my feelings aka I am Lucien and Lucien is me (but that’s a personal problem)
The whole Dawn/Day got me fucked up. I had to fix it. DAWN JUST FLOWS BETTER. AND IT IS THE SAME DAMN THING. but whatever. not my world. SJM knows best. 
I tried to play with what little info we got in WAR and then in the novella and make some sense out of it. I hope I did Helion justice. 
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-Lucien-
Son of day.
Elain’s voice had echoed in the darkness. Sometimes, I’d hear Rhysand crying, asking me to wake up. I might have heard Feyre describing the color of the sun. But it always came back to Elain.
She held the sun in her hands and gave it to me. And then I was falling, falling, falling. Until I was welcomed by a darkness so deep, so endless that I let it consume me.
I looked at Helion, High Lord of the Day Court. There was something akin to remorse in his eyes. He looked at me, expectant, anxious. Feyre and Rhys were still at my side, they had known. Somehow. I wasn’t stupid- yes, I was stubborn and at times I was dense, but it did not take much to put the pieces together… Even if some of them were missing. But for now, I did not care. 
“I’m not Beron’s son,” I whispered, leaning forward as I brought my hands to my face. Beron and I- there was nothing there that bound me to him. Every childhood dream came to mind, the ones I’d confessed to Mor. However late, it was here. I was not Beron’s son. It was as if this terrible weight had at last been lifted from my shoulders, and I could breathe. I didn’t realize I’d been crying until Rhys pulled me into his arms. After kissing my tears, he took my hands in his.
“I’ve theorized that losing your eye awakened another sense, to see beyond what others see. The mechanical eye was a perfect disguise for it,” Rhysand said.
My eyes fell on Helion once more, his eyes were glossy. Had he been crying, too? Feyre and Rhys both took turns giving me a kiss and without a word, left us alone. Until of course, I heard him whispering filth into her ear as they descended the stairs. Prick.
“I’m certain you would rather be in the midst of that,” Helion said, “Than sitting here with me.”
“Unfortunately, I’m forbidden from any activity that brings me pleasure.”
He smirked. I expected some kind of inappropriate retort, and I knew that it was at the tip of his tongue. But it was as if he remembered himself, remembered what he’d admitted and all of that arrogance was gone.
“How… when?” I didn’t even know what I wanted to know, if I wanted to know.
“A year before she was sold off to Beron. There had been a ball, it was the Equinox, after all.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it.
“During the war, the first war with Hybern- I rescued your mother. And that… well, that was when we threw all caution to the wind.”
“But I wasn’t born during the war.”
He chuckled. “No. You were not.”
“So that means…” They had managed to have an affair far longer than I could have imagined.
He shrugged.
“Mother’s tits,” I muttered.
“He discovered our affair, of course. But to admit it, to admit that he’d been bested- humiliated by her. Beron could never survive such a thing. And he never saw her as anything more than a possession.”
I felt the power that threatened to escape him at the thought of Beron’s treatment of my mother. He unnecessarily smoothed his tunic and twisted one of the cuffs at his wrist.
“I never knew,” he said softly. “I never even thought that it was possible that I would sire a child. Let alone with Aurelie. We had never dared to dream of such things. And then she went back to him. Chose him. And I let her go.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Helion still held hope for her. I could see it in his eyes. In the way he spoke of her. The way I had once dared to hope for Feyre, even at Tamlin’s side. Helion still loved my mother.
“I know that my reputation is… well known across Prythian. But for her, for Aurelie- I would have given her the world if she’d asked it of me.”
“But she never did.”
My mother never fought against tradition. Never fought against Beron. Silent. Timid. Pawn.
“I am not too proud to admit that I’d begged her to leave him. Once. But she refused. Had I known that you were mine-” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
“Would it have made a difference?”
“Yes. No. It has and always will be Aurelie’s decision.”
“Even though it was a fucked up decision?”
I knew that my words were sharp, I saw in his eyes that I’d hit him low. But I knew that I’d made the same decision to stay with Tamlin and I only left because if I’d stayed my fate would have been worse than death. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair.
“I’m sorry, I should not be so short. I forget my manners.”
Helion smiled.
“You’re not wrong.”
“It took me this long to get away from Tamlin… I can’t blame her, nor you for Beron’s actions. As I cannot blame myself for Tamlin.”
Something vicious flashed in his eyes but was quickly replaced with… curiosity.
“I do not understand how I never noticed. How many times had you come to my court?”
I chuckled. “I think I’ve seen the Day Court more in the last few centuries than Autumn.”
“I suppose we’ll have to ask your mother about that conundrum, won’t we?”
I raised a brow.
“We’ll have to get her out of there first.”
Helion grinned and I realized how similar he and Rhysand were. I was not sure how I felt about that.
“Leave the scheming to me. Your only job is to get out of bedrest.”
I chuckled. “I think I can get out of that one.”
He raised his tea cup at me. “A fox, through and through.”
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Side by side, Helion and I walked through the halls of Beron’s home, led by guards that had met us at the border. Wards were useless against him, but he’d given them the illusion of control. Helion walked as if Autumn were his, and I knew if he wanted it, it could be. Was that what Beron feared?
The throne room was perhaps as long as it was wide, trees lining it on either side instead of walls, breaking it up into various ‘rooms’ for other court matters. The leaves overhead kept out the sun… But one look at Helion and I knew better.
I saw my brothers… half-brothers standing near Beron’s throne, an old gnarled tree with roots that grew right into the stone floor. It always looked as if Beron’s magic had to fight nature from reclaiming its rightful place. As if it refused to submit to his will.
Beron looked as cruel and angry as he always did. But as Rhys had helped me into my fighting leathers, he’d told me not to falter. Not to let my eyes waver when he looked at me. So I stared him down as we approached the throne.
And there she was, sitting on her small seat below his. My mother was still, her eyes on the floor. Behind her glamour, I saw the bruising. Old and new.
Beron chuckled. “Lucien… I see we are still climbing the ladder. Was Rhysand not enough?”
“I am not here on Night Court business,” I said as proud and arrogant as I could. “I’ve come to deal with family matters.”
My half brothers laughed. Save Eris. He had managed to step back beneath the shade of the trees. Watching. Waiting.
“Family? You denounced your family after you chose that low born whore over your court.”
“Oh, forgive me, Lord Beron. I should have been more concise. I am here for my mother.”
I heard her little gasp, and I saw the way Beron looked down at her.
“The Lady of Autumn does not have leave to go anywhere outside of this Court,” he said to which my brothers and others in the room laughed.
I opened and closed my hands. How Helion remained so calm was beyond me.
“I don’t believe anyone was asking permission,” Helion replied.
Beron was now furious. I could feel it. I remembered the ferocity of his wrath. Everything that had made me happy had been burned to ash by it. When Beron rose to his feet, I fought the urge to step back as he stepped down. He grabbed my mother by the arm and forced her to her feet.
“To your quarters,” he growled at her, but was met with a low snarl that silenced the room.
“You will take your hands off her if you value your life.”
All eyes were on Helion now. It was grounds for war for anyone to take a High Lord’s wife. But he had promised this would go without bloodshed. And I wanted to believe it.
“You dare threaten me?”
“It is no threat, Beron. I have come to claim my mate and no one, not even you can keep her from me.”
The room might have held its breath. I was staring at Helion now. He had failed to mention that particular fact. But it was as clear as day now. My mother’s eyes were wide and she finally looked up at Helion. She had not known it either.
With a look of absolute disgust, Beron shoved my mother away from him, but she barely missed a step before she was rushing to Helion’s side.
Helion wrapped an arm around her, but his eyes never left Beron’s.
“You have committed acts worthy of death,” Helion growled. “What do you say, my son? How shall we address this?”
He finally looked at me, and I swore that my heart might burst in my chest.
“She has seen enough violence,” I said softly, but I knew everyone could hear me. “But if she wishes for his head on a platter, we will surely gift it to her.”
Helion grinned as he looked back at Beron.
“Your marriage is forfeit. Your claim to her and her lands, her wealth is forfeit. Your claim to Lucien is forfeit. They are mine by blood and bond.”
Beron was growing red in the face as he staggered back. A dog with its tail between its legs.
At once, whispers erupted in the throne room. Beron would now be humiliated. Shamed. He would lose an insurmountable amount of wealth and property without my mother. They whispered if I could claim both Courts, if Helion would wage war against Beron. Some were surprised that someone as timid as Aurelie could have an affair and get away with it for so long. What a fool Beron had been to keep her at his side all these years. But the whispering stopped when Eris finally came to the front. He gave them all a look of utter repulsion before his eyes fell on our mother.
Something silent passed between them before he looked at me and gave me a nod, bidding me farewell.
“Be sure to sleep with one eye open,” Helion said, before he reached for my hand.
Eris was smiling when we winnowed away.
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I knew I needed rest. I knew that Madja would surely kick my ass when we went back home. I knew that Rhys and Feyre were waiting for us in Kallias’ palace. But I couldn’t move. Helion stood there, both hands cupping my mother’s face. Her glamour was gone, her eyes were lined with tears as she looked into his. And he… Helion looked at her the way Rhysand looked at Feyre.
“I’m sorry,” I heard her whisper. Helion shook his head.
“I should have told you… I should have killed him.”
Her nervous laugh broke my heart. And then she looked at me and she sobbed.
“Lucie…”
“Mother.”
When I held her in my arms, she began to weep.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“This was not your fault. None of it ever was,” I replied. I looked at Helion, and perhaps, my words were for him as much as they were for her. “I don’t blame you for any of it.”
If tears lined his eyes, I was not sure. Not when it began to snow and he begged us to go inside as he was only wearing sandals and his legs were too lovely to get frostbitten. My mother laughed, a true laugh, and let him take her by the hand and lead her away.
Our arrival was met with hugs and an assault of kisses from Rhysand, who only made my mother giggle. There were many tears. Far too many tears. But for once, they were of joy.
“I’ve never forgotten what you did for my son,” my mother said to Feyre who couldn’t seem to leave her side. They sat beside the fireplace, hand in hand. Rhys sat on the armrest beside them, listening as he drank from his glass. Feyre insisted on looking at my mother’s arm, but there was no evidence of that old hurt.
“We are fire made flesh,” she said to Feyre, looking at me with a glimmer in her eye that I’d not seen since I was a child. “It’s alright… He deserved what he got.”
“So, Helion,” Viviane began, crossing her arms as she unceremoniously sat on Kallias’ lap. “Your mate is the Lady of the Autumn Court.”
He poured himself a glass of liquor. “Yes.”
“Your heir is also the paramour of the Lord and Lady of the Night Court.”
He took a long sip before pouring again. “Yes.”
“So when Rhysand marries him, Lucien will be High Lord of two courts. Three, if you decide to get rid of that bastard.”
Helion shrugged.
“Lucien will have three titles! Three!” she shrieked at Kallias who sighed in a way that reminded me of Azriel. The sigh of the long suffering.
“Let them have their moment, my love. When it passes, we will discuss the matter then.”
“That’s what you said on Solstice.”
Helion put an arm around my shoulder, leading me away from the others. Now in white furs and actual boots for once, Helion looked as though he would survive the winter.  
“You and your mother are free to do as you will,” he said softly. I knew none of the others could hear. Not even Rhys who was now charming my mother. “All that I said to Beron… It was all for show.”
I looked at him in disbelief. There had been truth to his words… But very much like Rhys, that choice was ours to make.
“What if that was what we wanted?”
He seemed surprised by that.
I looked outside, watching the snow fall, the fae playing in it. The ice of the windowsill was a welcome relief, and I was surprised it didn’t melt beneath my touch.
“I’d always dreamed of this. That her mate would find her and take us away. Like-”
A small ray of light in all the darkness.
“I dreamed of you,” I said out loud and felt my face go warm.
Helion set his glass down on the windowsill and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I was Under the Mountain… All those years. Knowing what she was to me, and ignoring it. She didn’t know, Lucien. What we were to one another. I had felt it right to spare her from what you and your mate have had to endure.”
“Her sons were all she lived for… Until they grew up to become worse versions of their father. And then you came along… I had never even thought that far. I had only wanted her to be happy. And we were so young. What the hell did I care for children? Except that when you were born and that news spread across Prythian I knew that I’d been lying to myself. It was deeper than the sting of her refusal to leave him. It was like an emptiness I could never quite fill.”
He sighed.
“You’re not a child, Lucien. I can’t raise you,” he said with a chuckle. “But the Day Court is yours, as much as it is mine. And I would like it very much if you went to experience it as my son. Nothing will be denied to you… Although I would prefer it if you kept Rhys away from the throne room. He might just charm the mirrors off the walls.”
We both looked at him as he spoke with my mother and laughed.
“I would love to go… But after my mother accepts the mating bond. Much, much after.”
Helion’s laughter brought all eyes on us, and by the look on my mother’s face, I realized that though many things were broken and unsaid, there was a chance for things to change. A chance for us to have the life we had only dreamed of and never thought possible. 
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@readingismycopingmechanism @fuzdog @gently-say-aha @highladyofherondale @alxanxah @city-of-fae @rhysands-highlady @myfeyrelady 
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The Hit List
This is based on a head canon I posted a couple days ago- just couldn’t get the idea of Nesta having an Arya-Stark style hit list; mostly crack and pure fluff if I’m being honest 🤷‍♀️
Cassian and Nesta have lived together for 137 years as of last Saturday. Maybe he should be embarrassed that he has been counting, but when one lives with Nesta Archeron one gets used to ensuring that they are always prepared. The woman has an infallible memory. Cassian knows every date that is of any consequence. He knows the day that her mother died because she always shrinks into herself just a little bit on that day, even after all of these years. He knows the day that they met, the day that the war ended, and the day that their mating bond snapped into place. He knows the day that they got married in a tiny little ceremony that consisted of only them plus Elain and Azriel- even Rhysand and Feyre weren’t present- and he knows the day that she finally, finally allowed herself to admit it to everyone that they had gotten married. Cassian knows everything about Nesta Archeron. He has spent 142 years learning every single piece of her (yeah you can do the math on how long it took him to convince her to move out of that damn run down apartment).
There is nothing about Nesta Archeron that could surprise him at this point. He can read her moods in the tense of her shoulders before she even wakes up in the morning. He can tell whether or not she will be amiable to seeing other people by the firmness or reluctance of her lips against his before they eat breakfast.
Cassian knows Nesta.
He does.
Really.
So why is he crinkling his brow in confusion as he stares at this tiny, ancient looking piece of parchment that has fallen out of her drawer.
Nesta is nearing the end of her cycle and he was sent to this particular drawer (his favorite if he’s being honest, but that is not the purpose of this moment) to fetch her new undergarments as she curses and tries to get out of their bed in the next room.
If it were even a day earlier Cassian would forget the paper. He would sprint into that room and tie her stubborn ass to the bed if he had to. She never rests long enough on her cycle, but this should be the last day so nothing bad will happen if she insists on taking herself to the bath.
Cassian is far too intrigued by this discovery to pay the subtle grunts any attention. The paper looks like it has been folded over and over again, uncreased and re-creased. It looks old, and coming from him that is saying something.
Cassian thinks that maybe he shouldn’t open it, but... he and Nesta don’t keep secrets, so surely if she had one then she would hide it better than shoving it under all of these scraps of lace in her underwear drawer. He smoothes the paper out carefully and his brow only creases farther as he reads it
Hybern
Old bitch Queen
Stupid Glaring Queen
White Queen
Old Fae Queen
Tomas
Beron
Jurian
Tamlin
Devlon
The last 3 names are deeply faded, clearly having been written in lead and then scratched at. Not scratched out in the way the others are, with a single black line through them, but... erased? Or attempted to be erased at least.
Cassian rubs his thumb along the final line, trying to feel the deeply faded and worn through section of the paper. The writer clearly wrote and then attempted to erase this word several times. It only takes him a minute to figure it out.
Rhysand
Cassian has never been so confused. None of these names seem to fit together in any way that he can make sense of. The Queens, he has to imagine refers to the mortal Queens from the war, and Hybern is explanatory enough- but what do 3 High Lords have to do with any of that? (Well... 2 current High Lords and a “woefully” usurped loser that no one will miss). Not to mention a resurrected human, the Lord of Windhaven, and some poor male named... Tomas?
Cassian shakes his head and does what he always does when something about Nesta confuses him. He walks right into their bedroom and asks her.
“What is this?”
Nesta lifts her eyes from the sheets, hands still gripping at her abdomen as she glares daggers at him.
“The fact that males don’t have to go through this torture is proof that the cauldron has always been an insufferable prick” she growls.
“That’s what I love about you, Nes” he grins that infuriatingly charming lopsided grin of his “you could wish that you weren’t in pain, but no no- instead you wish that I was as well”
“That stupid mating bond does claim to pair equals” she grimaces
“Oh so now it’s stupid?”
“If stuck me with you, didn’t it?”
Cassian laughs, moving closer to the bed with a wicked grin “I didn’t hear you complaining last night as I took that pain away in the only way that ever seems to work” he winks
“Hmmm” Nesta considers idly, reaching out to pull him onto the bed beside her so that she can lean her back against his chest “I suppose you do have your uses.”
Cassian chuckles, running a hand through her hair “what is this?” He asks again, holding up the parchment.
Nesta pauses for only a second before shrugging “it’s my kill list”
“Your what?” She said the words so casually, as though she was informing him what she wanted for dinner that night.
“I should think that the words ‘kill list’ are rather self explanatory”
Cassian pauses, looking down at the female that he thought he knew so well.
They are literally connected together. How could he not know what a bloodthirsty little minx his wife is? Well no, that isn’t accurate. He did know, he just didn’t know that she wrote it all down so literally and physically.
“Rhysand’s name is on this list”
“No it isn’t” Nesta shakes her head in annoyance “I erased it last year after he built that garden and named it for Elain” she shrugs “he’s one of the rotating players. Every few years he does something to get his name on the list but then usually he acquits himself within the decade.”
Cassian only nods, long since learning the pattern of Nesta’s speech that indicates when she is finished speaking on a matter and will not give it any more of her time. Of course, he also knows exactly the right buttons to push in order to make her keep speaking, but... now isn’t the time to play one of those cards. Nesta and Rhysand have always shared a tenuous relationship at best, so he supposes that her erasing his name from the kill list is probably about the greatest level of affection she will ever show the High Lord.
“Who is Tomas?” Nesta’s entire body tenses in his arms and Cassian’s mirrors her exactly one second later.
Oh.
Him.
“I’m glad that he is crossed out” Cassian grits through clenched teeth.
Nesta sighs “not nearly as satisfying an end as some of the others I’m afraid. So much time passed that one day I realized it would be impossible for him to still be alive, so I just crossed his name out” she shrugs.
”why does that old Queen still draw breath?” He grins a little, enjoying the strangely morbid conversation as he moves his hands down to gently massage her lower abdomen. She lets out a little moan that he assumes means some of her pain is subsiding.
“Every day that she lives is her punishment” Nesta grins this time, and Cassian sees it as she lays her head back against his shoulder “she wanted to be young and beautiful forever. Now she is an immortal old crone. If I never cross that name off I’ll consider it a type of victory entirely its own”
“What about Devlon, Jurian, and Tamlin?”
Nesta scoffs “they’re all on thin ice, but...” she sighs, an annoyed sort of huff “Tamlin did save Elain in a way and Jurian was playing doubt agent. And...” she pauses “you speak well of Devlon in comparison to the other Illyrian lords so he remains in the safe zone...for now.”
Cassian just grins a little, hands continuing their careful ministrations “I love you” he murmurs into her hair.
“I love you too”
Cassian pauses, straightening up a bit and pulling Nesta with him as he does so.
“Wait” he narrows his eyes “have I ever been on this list?”
Nesta curls her lips into a teasing smirk and gives him the most innocent little shrug as an answer.
Cassian chuckles, resting his chin on top of her head “as long as you always erase it”
“I use a lighter lead when I want to put you on it” she turns over in his arms so that she can look up at him “easier to erase. No smudges”
“I do believe that is that most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, Nesta” they both laugh as Cassian leans down to capture her lips in his own, and suddenly Nesta’s cramps don’t seem quite so bad.
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