elaine look at this

Lucien was shaking his head, panting, and whirled to us. “Get her back,” he snarled at Tamlin over the ranting of the king. A mate—a mate already going wild to defend what was his.

Tamlin ignored him. So I did, too. 


 Lucien spun toward me, and that metal eye whirred and narrowed. Centuries of cultivated reason clicked into place.I was not panicking at my sisters being taken.

I said quietly, “We will get her back.” 

A tiny snippet of hope on the horizon filled with ‘Feyre is going to use the mating bond against Lucien.’ 

I actually think–and this is PURE opinion, so feel free to disagree–that contrary to general fandom perception, Elain is going to have a much harder transition to being a fae than Nesta. Nesta had nothing much at all holding her to the mortal world: she hated all the people they knew and their father, she didn’t seem especially enamored with the ~jewels and partying life they got back. The constraints of the culture held her potential for PURE BADASSDOM back, and I think she knew it. Plus, she’s pissed as hell. She has a goal, she has things to Avenge, she has motivation to learn how to use her powers and get in on the fight, to do things even if she’s in a bad place. And once she starts to figure out how much stuff she can do here? (/starts making out with cassian, probs) she’s gonna be into it.

But Elain loved her father and her fiance and her garden! And she’s never going to see any of them ever again! And the mate thing is terrifying if you don’t have a lot of context for it; I think she’ll get over that particular issue fast but those first few weeks? being ~MYSTICALLY BONDED~ with a man you don’t know (and that all the people around you dislike), Jesus christ, that’s scary. She also doesn’t have the drive for VENGENCE the way Nesta does; I know Elain’s the more compliant and happy of the two, but I don’t think that’s going to translate into being Pretty Okay With This the way some fics (including my own) sometimes posit. I think Elain’s going to be almost totally non-functional/ in deep mourning for a while, even if she starts hiding it for Nesta’s sake.

In canon, depending on how long it is before they meet again, I think it’s likely the initial Elucien bonding will basically consist of the two saddest people in Prythian being very gentle with each other.

when your bf accidentally comes out of the closet and suddenly you’re a part of the family:

Originally posted by magswoods

Feyre: *lost Rhys in the crowd and can’t find him*


Rhys: Pfft, that’s soooo wrong. Ah there you are, Feyre darling!

Feyre: There he i…

Mor: Who would disgrace my High Lady like this?

Amren: I gonna inflict pain to this moron

Cassian: Who said that?!

Azriel: *shows up and looks threatening*

Nesta: My sister belongs to noone!

Elain: Feyre deserves better than Tamlin


Lucien: I’m not so sure that’s true anymore …

Tamlin: FINALLY! You finally realized that we belong together! Come back with me to the Spring Court! I will …

Rhys: *punches Tamlin in the face*



That tamlin can’t even flirt, the curse depended on him flirting with feyre and winning her over and all he says is ‘you have clean hair’. AND lucien even gives him an encouraging nod they both suck 😂.
Just imagine lucien flirting with elain like *sweats nervously* you have a pretty straight nose

Lucien’s at his desk when he hears Elain call him from the foyer.

“In here, dove!” He replies, straightening papers.

Elain bursts through the door with a wide grin on her face and a smear of dirt on her chin, holding something. “Look what I found! We’re keeping him.”

She holds out her arms and in them is something moving, something with reddish fur—

“He was all alone, poor thing.”

The baby fox raises its head, nose working and big dark eyes blinking as it sniffs the air.

Lucien laughs. “Elain, angel, that’s a wild animal, I don’t think it belongs indoors.“

“But look how cute he is,” she coos, and the fox yawns contently as though to emphasize her point.

“Well, that’s trouble,” Lucien says, as Elain pets it, “I’m afraid I can’t handle competition for best-looking fox in your life.”

Elain giggles. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.”

Lucien really should fight her harder on this, but if anyone can successfully domesticate a fox, it’s Elain. She’s already done it once, after all.

He rises from the desk, comes around to get a better look at the little rascal, who’s squirming in Elain’s arms. “What’s his name?”

Elain smiles. “Lucien Junior. Because he’s just like you.”

“Because he’s a handsome redhead?”

“No,” Elain says blissfully, extending a finger to the fox, who gnaws harmlessly at it. “Because he likes to bite me.”

  • simon: [drinks from a rat]
  • elaine: what the- [calls doctor]
  • also elaine: raphael sweet boy i need you to come here asap and check on your bf, my beautiful angel son, i know you love him and he'll listen to you pls
  • raphael: [drops everything and arrives in 2min flat]
  • elaine: let me just [closes the door]
  • also raphael: i ain't no delivery man amigo
  • simon: You look like CRAP
  • simon in Iron Sisters: *closes eyes for an almost kiss, completely confused when it doesn't happen*
  • [...]
  • raphael to elaine: simon is safe with me
  • simon: You threatened my mother
  • raphael: YEA WELL
  • [...]
  • also simon: can you fix my mom 'cause she saw some bad shit
  • elaine: can you fix my simon
  • also raphael: [internal monologue: what the fucking fuck] it'll have consequences but yes
Roses Are Red...- an Elucien fic

Small Elucien fic set somewhere in the projected middle of ACOTAR 3 based on this beautiful little WIP by the very talented @meabhd (hope you don’t mind; but it was too cute to resist!) 

Title: Roses Are Red…

Summary: Set post ACOMAF; the Spring Court has settled and Feyre brings her court and sisters to stay. On a walk through the gardens she comes across Lucien and Elain finally managing to steal a moment together amidst all the chaos. 

Link: AO3 

It’s odd, being back at the Spring Court now. So much has changed since Tamlin first brought me here. I’ve changed. The world has changed. But the gardens at least remain - beautiful as ever – if not more so now. I find comfort in them still, in the peace and quiet and the fresh open spaces, so unlike the oppressive darkness that still stalks my nightmares sometimes.

Colour and shape burst out at me from every direction – each plant simultaneously vying for my complete attention and focus while also blending with the beds around them to give a pleasant overall effect. It’s something I’ll have to try and capture the next time I paint, making everything stand out yet meld perfectly together at the same time.

The sound of quiet voices and gentle laughter interrupts me and jolts me out of my reverie. Looking up I see Elain, Elain walking through the gardens arm in arm with Lucien. I blink in surprise at the sight of my friend and sister together. I’d been trying all week without success to encourage him to just talk to my sister since we’d brought her here.

Everything about this court suits Elain, right down to the magic that now burns in her veins that she can use to grow any plant into any shape she chooses. I know she’s already used it to spruce up some of the darker, emptier areas of the Spring Court, letting it run wild with the raw power that infuses the air in this court. She’s radiant and I’ve never seen her look prettier, or happier, than she has done here.

But Lucien had avoided her, barely looking at her if they were in the room and as far as I knew they hadn’t said two words to each other and now they’re walking together through the gardens, Elain comfortably holding Lucien’s arm and letting him lead her, as though they do this every day, and have done for decades.

They both look happy. Elain is laughing almost continually at whatever Lucien is saying and there’s a light twinkling in his russet eye that I realise I’ve never truly seen before, kindled every time he looks at her. And the smile on his face – such a rare sight after the darkness that’s plagued him these months – is different from the ones I’ve seen there before. It’s warm and soft and tempered with a tenderness I might not have believed. He looks younger and whole somehow, in a way he never did before, as though he needed Elain’s light to contrast and bring out this last part of him and complete him.

I watch them from my place by a large, bold pot full of sunflowers larger than any I’ve ever seen before – one of Elain’s additions to the garden – as they meander comfortably along the gravel paths. They seem at ease with one another, already connecting the way the bond between them urges them to do, but both a little shy and unsure of themselves all the same.

They pause on the edge of a bed full of demure little blue flowers and Lucien turns to her, looking more hesitant than I’ve ever seen him before. I’m used to the confident, silver-tongued emissary, witty, thoughtless remarks to everything bursting out of him with arrogant ease, heedless and careless, saying what he thought whatever it cost him – a lesson that losing his eye even hadn’t taught him – but here, with Elain, I swear I hear him stumble as he speaks to her.

Elain’s smile is shy when she nods to him, letting her body tentatively brush against hers as she moves in closer to him, peering at something in his hands. With a flourish Lucien produces a large bouquet of flowers, red roses dotted with smaller blue violets and Elain gasps in surprise, evident awe and delight at the sudden appearance of the flowers and I duck my head, hiding my smile.

Typically Lucien. But the pretty blush that spreads across my sister’s face as she accepts the flowers from him with a sweet smile and smells them, her eyes still on him quickly softens me again. He might not be particularly subtle or reserved about it but his exuberance seems to appeal to her.

I glance up at them again in time to see Elain stand on her toes, one hand on Lucien’s shoulder encouraging him down to her so she can kiss him on the cheek in thanks for the flowers, flushing furiously as she does so and peering shyly up at him over the flowers in her hands as she sinks back down again, watching him anxiously for his reaction.

Lucien blushes, actually blushes, his skin flaring as deeply red as his hair and rubs the back of his neck as a broad smile spreads across his face. Elain giggles again clearly very pleased with this and stands up again to gently kiss his other cheek. Lucien’s blush deepens even further and I stare at him in utter amazement as he dithers on the spot before leaning down and very gently kissing Elain’s nose.

She blinks at him in amazement for a moment then a laugh bursts from her a full, loud, rich laugh that I’ve never heard before. The smile that Lucien gives her in answer to this transforms his face and the light that blazes in his eyes is more than I’ve ever seen before, more than I ever believed was left inside him. But somehow she found it.

Reaching out Elain takes his hand in hers, her other hand still holding tightly onto the bunch of flowers he gave her and leads him assertively through the gardens, pointing out what looks to be her favourite flowers while he trails meekly along in her wake, drinking in every word she speaks as though it’s the air he breathes. I almost laugh at the absurdity of it, the tall, angled High Fae, a trained and talented warrior in his own right, who stands at least a foot taller than the slim, willowy girl who leads him around, but there’s a certain rightness to it that I can’t get away from.

As I watch them I feel someone shift and step up beside me and I turn in time to find Nesta draw level with me, her arms crossed over her chest, her piercing gaze fixed steadily on Lucien and Elain, now bending down to examine a row of delicate white snowdrops while Elain prattles steadily to Lucien. He makes a no doubt sarcastic comment and to my delighted surprise I watch her very gently shove him in protest then yelps in alarm and hastily grabs his arm as he nearly overbalances and topples into the flower bed, caught unawares.

I tear my eyes away from them to blink at Nesta instead, who still watches them with unflinching focus, “You’re not going to interrupt them are you?” I ask gently but my hand reaches out to touch her elbow, ready to stop her if she tries. They both deserve this.

But Nesta just shakes her head, “No,” she says simply without looking at me, her lips quirking into a faint smile, “It’s about time they at least talked.”

I stare at her in amazement for a moment. I knew that discovering her own mating bond with Cassian and gaining a new understanding of what that was like might have changed her views on it but she was always so fiercely protective of Elain that I hadn’t expected her to allow Lucien within twenty feet of her before she’d taken the time to assess him and decide.

There’s something a little too knowing in Nesta’s smirk and my eyes widen as I say slowly, “I never told Lucien that her favourite flowers are roses and violets…” Nesta’s smile broadens just enough to confirm my suspicions, “You did this?” I demand, thunderstruck, “How?” Lucien had resisted every effort I’d made at encouraging him to talk to Elain, no matter what I said or did.

Nesta’s smile is nothing short of wicked, “You were being too gentle,” she says, blithely examining her nails.

“I hope you didn’t damage him permanently,” I say, examining Lucien a little more closely but if the encounter with Nesta scarred him he certainly isn’t showing it now as he gently tucks one of the violets from her bouquet into Elain’s hair.

“No,” Nesta says evenly, “He just needed a little push in the right direction, that’s all.”

I stare pointedly at her but she only shrugs half-heartedly, clearly not about to spill her secrets to me any time soon. We both turn to watch them again and I say softly, “She looks so happy,” Nesta’s razor-sharp smile softens as she notes this too and nods her approval.

“He’s better for her than that Fae-hating bastard she was going to marry,” she sniffs and a flicker of understanding at her interference runs through me at her words.

Nesta saw two men react to Elain, the one who gave her an iron wedding ring and would have hunted her down and butchered her if he ever found out what she’d become; and the one who would roar and fight and storm at kings to protect her and slaughter anyone who dared come near her. And she found a glimmer of her own spirit in Lucien; a kindred desire to protect, to burn the world to ash for those that matter, and she understood.

“He’s good for her,” I say quietly as I watch Elain smile and playfully toss some remark out to Lucien that makes him blink in surprise then offer her a wolfish smile of encouragement and toss something right back to her.

I’ve never seen her as assertive or confident before. He brings out the spirit that she wraps in soft, sweet smiles; the spark of something that makes her able to handle Lucien’s fire and bite by drawing out a little of her own. Nesta nods her agreement and approval, a small smile curving her lips as she notices the same thing I do.

And I know, as I look up to see Elain cupping Lucien’s face in her hand, the side that bears the metal eye and the brutal scar and see the tension that flares in him at the contact and the way it melts away as she lightly strokes the slash in his skin with her thumb, a gentleness he’s rarely known, that she’ll be good for him too. And that they deserve this. They deserve each other.

“I’m glad you pushed him into talking to her,” I say to Nesta, knowing how hard it must have been for her to unbend her pride and go to him after spitting at him and rejecting him before, to give him another chance and let him see that decision.

But Nesta just nods, “So am I,” she bites her lip as though wondering whether or not to speak but at last she says, “With everything that’s going on just now…The war that’s coming…I thought she should have a chance at this,” she gestures to where Elain and Lucien stand together, talking quietly, “At getting to know someone who could make her feel,” she tightens her lips and I know I won’t get more from her but I don’t need to to know what, who changed her mind about this.

We both look up in time to see Elain stand on her toes and softly kiss Lucien’s cheek once again in farewell before hurrying off, glancing over her shoulder at him and giving him a little wave as she goes. Lucien stands in the middle of the path gazing after her, looking a little dazed, lightly brushing his cheek where she kissed him. In his hands is a small round flower in various hues of red and orange and I realise she must have used her magic to make it just for him.


“They run into the street to flag down a passing bus and take the back seat, elated at their victory. However, in the final shot, Benjamin’s smile gradually fades to an enigmatic, neutral expression as he gazes forward down the bus, not looking at Elaine. Elaine first looks lovingly across at Ben but notices his demeanor and turns away with a similar expression as the bus drives away, taking the two lovers towards a future of uncertainty.”

The Graduate (1967).