#lucien as the over protective dad we all know hell be

[separatist-apologist]

They Took The Crown But It's Alright

Companion to Call It What You Want To, Ivy edition (with a small excerpt from Soren's chapter- Would You Run Away With Me?)

Never say I don't contribute to this fandom- this is 20k words long. I wrote the majority of it in 12 hours.

Also, I'm so wildly grateful people are still thinking about this fic a year after I wrote it, asking questions and wondering what happened next. Despite how unhinged this fandom is, I am having the best time here.

No graphic, no summary. We die like men. Politely NSFW

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Ivy woke to the sound of pounding on her bedroom door. “Go away!” she yelled, well aware of who was doing the banging. Her cousins had arrived in the Sun Palace the night before and only Nyx would be up so early. “Aren’t you supposed to be a night owl?”

The door opened and Nyx stepped in, his bright blue eyes glittering with amusement. Tendrils of dark followed just behind, sucking up bright rays of light pouring through her window. “I can’t resist the sunlight or you, cousin. Why are you still asleep?”

Ivy sat up while Nyx dropped onto the cream-colored bedding and pushed dark hair from his eyes. He looked just like his father in nearly every way, save for his mother’s eyes. Archeron eyes, Ivy had been told. Ivy wouldn’t know—she was every bit her father, from the long, ruby hair to the russet-colored eyes. She even had his darker coloring and his magic, an unusual combination of fire and sunlight. It was her twin Soren who favored the Archeron lineage; blue gray eyes, fairer skin and their mothers ability for sight. 

“Yvette is going to be here soon,” Nyx interrupted Ivy’s thoughts, his eyes sparking with hope. Yvette was Kallias and Viviane’s daughter, the only child born to the High Lord of Winter and Nyx’s secret crush. Only Ivy knew as far as she could tell, though she was willing to bet Azriel’s son Auden’s shadows had spilled Nyx’s secrets to the rest of their cousins.

“That explains the clothes,” Ivy teased, gesturing towards the finely made black and silver tunic, handsome enough but way too warm for summer in Rhodes. “You’ll boil alive before she ever arrives.”

He shrugged. “As long as I look good beforehand. Get dressed. Don’t make me suffer through breakfast with the High Lord of Spring and his terrible sons.”

Ivy groaned too. Once a year, all the High Lords gathered in one of the Courts and spent a week discussing Prythian, policy, and everything in between. The year before they’d gone to Autumn where Uncle Eris had arranged a week-long festival celebrating Samhain and this year it was his grandfather, who she affectionately referred to as Papa Helion, hosting the High Lord’s and their families. 

He’d planned for the week to fall during the Hunt, one of their more ridiculous holidays in which females took over the city for a day, banishing the males to the sea. The evening culminated in the return of the males, who literally hunted down the women—or the partner of their choice—after finding one of the scarves females tied throughout Rhodes. Ivy had never participated and wasn’t about to start now, adult or not. 

Ivy banished Nyx to bathe and dress, choosing a long, white gown held up by heavy, linked chains above her shoulders. She wrapped gold cord around her waist to tie it all together and give the illusion of curves and allowed her ruby colored hair to fall in long waves down her back. Nyx had worn his silver starred crown and to that end, Ivy wove her own glimmering circlet through her hair, letting a tiny, jeweled sun rest in the middle of her forehead. She wrapped a snake cuff around her arm, knowing her father and grandfather would wear their own, and slid several rings onto her fingers. 

For every other Court in Prythian, it was the male who would eventually inherit the throne. Day was the exception. It was hardly secret that the magic that decided such things had skipped her brother, much to his relief, and had found her worthy. When Helion and her father died, it would be Ivy who ascended. She’d be the first Cauldron-chosen High Lady in living memory, as far as she knew, anyway. She was curious to see Yvette, to see if she was displaying the same magic Ivy was.

Not all the Courts had heirs, like Day and Night did. Winter and Spring and Autumn also had a generation the same age as Nyx and Ivy, but Summer and Dawn did not. Thesan seemed rather pleased to have never had children and Ivy supposed that stemmed from how proud Helion had been when her and her brother had been born. Her Uncle Eris and Aunt Arina had one daughter who was still quite young, little Isolde who was the same age as Spring Courts Aine. Spring Court was an odd place—Tamlin’s two oldest children were sons, his two youngest daughters. Alexander was the eldest, six years older than her and set to take his fathers place. He was the spitting image of his Tamlin in every way. While Ivy had been bred for politics and social niceties, Alexander had been born for war. 

His younger brother Finn was more tolerable, prone to the kind of mischief Soren and Nyx liked to engage in. They might have been friends with different parents. She’d heard the rumors of Finn’s rakish behavior and had seen him sampling the females each year in the different courts. They avoided each other for all the obvious reasons. She was far more partial to moody Saoirse and bright and bubbly Aine, though they rarely came with their brothers and father. 

The problem, for Ivy anyway, was the friendship that existed between her parents. Tamlin and her father, Lucien, had been friends for centuries and when their children were born, patched up their differences after their falling out when her Aunt Feyre had destroyed Spring, and forced Ivy, Soren, and Alexander together. Ivy was twenty-one, the same age her mother had been when she was made Faerie. She couldn’t be forced into unwanted playdates, especially with the brutish males of Spring. 

She left her bedroom and walked smack dab into her grandfather, dressed in a nice chiton and knee length sandals. His golden crown of sunlight sat atop his head, making his dark brown skin seem as though it glowed brighter than he already did. He beamed when he saw her.

“You’re up early,” he commented, throwing a strong arm over her shoulder. Though Helion would never admit it, Ivy firmly believed she was his favorite; of all her siblings, she looked the most like his wife, the former Lady of Autumn and current Lady of Day, Amera. 

“Blame Nyx,” she replied with a bright smile, hoping she glowed half as brightly as he seemed to. Helion’s amber eye’s twinkled. 

“I did see the rapscallion running about. I see not much has changed between the two of you. What shenanigans has he roped you into this time?”

“It’s secret, inter-court business,” she replied much to Helion’s delight. He mimed zipping his lips and Ivy whispered, “He’s hoping to catch a glimpse of the Lady of Winter, Yvette.”

“I’m told she’s become quite beautiful,” Helion half-whispered. “She takes after her mother.”

Ivy shrugged. “She’s too good for him, I’m sure.”

“Ah, but all females are,” Helion replied. “Don’t inform your father I said such a thing, of course.”

As if her dad wouldn’t be the first person to say her mother could have done better. Helion melted away, leaving Ivy to walk alone through the marble halls as early morning light spilled through high, arching windows. Nyx would be waiting on a private patio up on the third floor and while Ivy was anxious to see her cousin, that didn’t stop her from taking the longest route possible. Day Court was stunning, her home far more lovely than anywhere in Prythian. Ivy liked to bask in the warmth, to meander through its ancient, marble halls and imagine herself mistress.

It was a mistake. On the second floor, standing in front of one of the best views of the ocean, was blonde haired, green eyed Alexander. His back was turned to her, broad and muscled from beneath a light blue tunic. A sword hung from a brown belt at his waist and the sight annoyed her. What kind of danger did he expect to find here? 

As though he sensed her, Alexander turned, his serious eyes looking her up and down. Handsome, was her first stupid thought. He’d always been beautiful for a male who didn’t smile. Ivy was grateful he’d left behind his usual baldric of knives and she couldn’t help but notice that there was no golden crown of laurel leaves atop his head that might denote him the heir of Spring.  He never wore it, she thought with a frown.

Her eyes lingered on his full mouth just for a beat. Alexander said nothing at all as he assessed her, his gaze flicking from her head to her feet before he turned away. There was nothing to say, though it was quite rude not to even offer a polite good morning. Ivy scurried off, walking a little quicker than she’d meant to. The only sound was the hard soles of her sandals upon the marble and just as she rounded the corner she looked over her shoulder, surprised to see him looking back at her, too.

She shouldn’t care at all but…something warm bloomed in her chest.

It was sunlight over a garden. It was roses waking from a harsh winter. She shoved that feeling back down, joining a waiting Nyx on the patio, long legs stretched out in front of him casually. He smiled, golden skin basking in the daylight.

“What’s Alexander doing skulking through the halls?” she demanded, still thinking about his too-serious green eyes. She felt Nyx prod against her mind, violet eyes glittering with amusement.

“Maybe he was looking for something,” Nyx replied.

“Don’t be disgusting,” she complained. There had never been any love lost between them, even when she had been forced to spend time in Spring. Alexander, with his knives and his studying and his scowling. Ivy and Soren had each other, had always teamed against him until he locked himself up in the library or took to the garden to avoid them.

Nyx couldn’t argue on that front. The thought of Alexander looking for her was more than repulsive. It was against nature itself to consider him as anything other than an obnoxious adversary. He wasn’t the first beautiful male. He wouldn’t be the last.

“Eat your breakfast,” Nyx demanded, pulling her from her thoughts. “And help me think of ways to annoy him at the meeting later.”

Ivy would have bristled at his bossy tone normally. Today was different and for once, she was all too happy to dream up a little mischief. 

*

Alexander had kept far enough from the Spell-Cleaver-Archeron clan. He had no interest in being subjected to their scorn or their chaos, especially not at his expense. He and his brother Finn were meant to pay for the mistakes of his father, apparently, for eternity. Rhysand had never gotten over it and Nyx wouldn’t, either. Alexander might have forgiven them had their poisonous opinion not tainted all the other courts. Ivy and Soren hated him just as viciously, apparently intending to hold Alexander accountable for their mother’s dip in the Cauldron. He could recall years of their fathers trying to make the three friends as they patched up their own issues, leaving Alexander to the cruel whims of Ivy and the bored pranks of Soren.

No amount of apologizing from his father would ever make it right. It seemed nothing could garner their forgiveness and Alexander was not keen to try. 

One day Ivy would have to interact with him when she was High Lady and he High Lord. He intended to repay her for her kindness then. Still, at times Alexander couldn’t help but envy her and the life she led. It was clear no one cared if Ivy accepted the magic or not and was content to let her decide how her future might play out. Her brother Soren was given free reign to chase his own pursuits. Alexander would have committed an unknown number of atrocities for such freedom. 

He’d never been to Day Court before, having always hosted the Vanserra's in Spring. While his father made the rounds and Finn vanished, likely chasing the first pretty female he laid his eyes on, Alexander had gone looking for a quiet nook in which to find some peace. He’d thought he’d found a little patio high up on the third floor was decent, having tried the garden only to find Elain Archeron strolling the winding path. She'd been nothing but polite, had offered to show him around but Alex had panicked. He wanted to see it, loved the glowing peace and couldn't risk her eldest daughter stumbling in to survey him with her mocking eyes.

So he'd gone up for the open veranda of windows. He should have known Nyx would be waiting. He’d retreated before he could be the butt of any of Nyx’s sharp words, catching sight of the sprawling city from a window just outside the hall. He’d paused, drinking it in. The city was beautiful, set atop a hill overlooking a vast, sparkling ocean.

And then Ivy had arrived. Every inch of her was a Day Court princess—his eyes snagged against the glowing brown of her skin, contrasted with the wine red of her tumbling red hair. Russet eyes widened with surprise, assessing at him just as carefully. She was stunning, daylight personified. If anyone had ever been born to live beneath the sun, it was her. He'd had the most curious urge to reach out and run his fingers through her hair.

She said nothing, to his relief, foregoing her usual taunts. He turned away from her, a mixture of relieved and disappointed when he heard the slap of her sandals taking her away. Something soft snagged in his chest, fluttering gently like a feather. He couldn’t help but watch her go, eyes lingering on the sway of her hips. She hesitated at the sharp corner of the hall, looking over her shoulder.

Their eyes met for another moment before she vanished entirely. She was going to Nyx, her counterpart in Night. He had no intention of sticking around for that. Alexander turned on his heel, wondering if it made him a coward. 

He didn’t get far. Soren caught him on the steps, a basket of curling ivy in his hands. Soren paused, sinking to his knees when his eyes frosted over. He was a Seer, famously so just like his mother. Alexander had heard the stories but to see it in person was something else. He lunged on the steps, banging his knee roughly on the marble to keep Soren from smashing his head open the same way.

The male was out for only a moment before he blinked, laying amid his overturned basket. Alexander let him go carefully, stepping around his limp body before he could be accused of hurting the Day Court prince. Soren rounded on him, abandoning his plants to follow just behind. 

“Can I help you?” Alexander demanded, reaching the bottom step with a racing heart.

Soren shook his head, watching Alexander curiously.

“My sister means well, you know,” he finally said. “You should go easy on her.”

Alexander scoffed. “Excuse me?”

Soren only shrugged, clearly finished with their exchange. “It’s only a thought.”

Soren vanished without another word, leaving Alexander to wonder what, exactly, the younger male had seen in his vision. Alexander knew one thing, though. Going easy on Ivy was like dipping a bloodied hand into shark infested waters. If she sensed any weakness at all she’d strike, demolishing him before he had a chance to blink. 

He found his father wrangling not just Finn, but Saoirse too, just outside the large meeting room they were all expected to sit in. “This is not the place,” Tamlin warned, his finger too close to Finn’s scowling face. “You know what they think of us.”

“I don’t care,” Saoirse replied, her pretty voice a near match for their mothers. Finn knew better than to anger their father but Saoirse’s temper was legendary, matched only by little Aine. Speaking of—

“Where is Aine?” Alexander asked, drawing the attention off his younger siblings and on to himself. 

His father’s face darkened and Alexander understood his blunder. The assumption was they’d been together. 

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Finn said quickly, eyeing the carved, golden doors behind them. “This court is crawling with children.”

There was no time to argue, not when Helion arrived. He was cordial, kind even. His Autumn Court wife never stopped smiling, her pretty face sweeping over the four of them as thought to assess the interlopers standing in the hall. Tamlin quickly informed Helion of his missing child and her unfortunate habit of shifting into a bear when the mood took her. The High Lord’s wife slipped from his side after caressing his arm with reassurance.

“Amera is an expert in tracking wayward children,” Helion assured them with a twinkle in his amber eyes. Alexander almost smiled at the sight before remembering who Helion was to Ivy and Soren. He didn’t trust any of them. 

Helion pushed open the door, letting Alexander and Finn take a seat as far from Rhysand as they could. Tamlin didn’t seem to care as much, sitting just beside Finn a mere four chairs from the General of the Night Court. Cassian and Nesta. Lord and Lady Death. He knew them all by virtue of his training to be High Lord. Their eldest daughter Elyn had her wings tucked tight against the navy blue of her high collared dress. She was the spitting image of her father, from her long, dark braided hair to her hazel colored eyes. She was talking quietly to the shadowsingers son Auden, watching at whatever he scribbled on a nearby piece of paper.

Nearby, Yvette from Winter Court was sandwiched between her parents, relaxed as she listened to them catching up with Morrigan. Helion took his place at the front of the table just beside his son Lucien, murmuring whispered words. The other Archeron women– Elain and Feyre–stood beside a large, arched window talking animatedly, unaware of how their mates eyes continued to dart towards them, just to be sure they were fine.

Nyx swept in first, dropping beside his father with a grin. They were an identical pair save for Nyx’s icy blue eyes. Maybe that was, in part, why Alexander hated him so. Nyx was merely a minature version of his asshole father, born it seemed just to taunt Alex. Ivy was the last in, practically apologetic, a blonde child resting on her hip. Alexander knew that little girl, arms twined around Ivy’s neck, a protruding bruise marring her otherwise pretty face.

“I found a bear,” she told her father, sitting on the other side of Helion with a pretty smile. “I didn’t know bears were allowed to roam the halls of Day Court.”

“That’s Aine,” Alexander said before he could stop himself. For the second time that day, Ivy looked up at him with those unreadable eyes. Aine, hearing his tone, buried her face further against the slim, flawless neck of Ivy Spell-Cleaver.

“My apologies, lord, but I’m certain you’re mistaken. This is a bear,” Ivy argued, eyes narrowing. Aine giggled, not daring to look at him. The sight of Ivy holding a blonde child was making his chest ache though he didn’t understand why. He looked away towards his father, who was smiling with a soft sort of fondness Alexander didn’t see very often. 

Still trying to untangle his weird feelings around Ivy, who switched between rapt attention and softly tickling his little sister, Alexander hadn’t absorbed a word being spoken. He had no interest in any of this, couldn’t understand how anyone did. Soren hadn’t been made to participate, didn’t need to care about any of it. Beside him, Finn at least jotted down notes, ever the studious scholar. Alexander felt adrift in his own life, a leaf on the wind. He’d done everything his father ever asked by virtue of being the eldest. He’d led war bands, he’d learned a multitude of languages and the history of Prythian. He knew which fork to use depending on the food being served and how to himself among courtiers and High Lords. Sometimes he thought every inch of him was just his fathers design. What, he wondered, did he really know about himself?

Alexander sighed softly, suddenly aware every single eye was looking at him. He blinked, looking to Ivy who stared back expectantly, still holding his youngest sister in her lap.

“Tell them, son,” Tamlin prodded. 

“About the border,” Finn added with a sharp elbow. 

“Ah…” he began, still staring at Ivy. Something sparked in russet-colored eyes and she nodded her head as though encouraging him to say anything. He wanted to impress her so badly that something overcame him.

“The humans have abandoned their iron weapons for ash and have found a way to produce faebane without conducting raids. Whether the continent supplies it to them or they’ve found a way to grow it, I’m not sure. What I do know is one of my better skilled units was ambushed in the night….ten were killed. No humans were injured per our laws, and we were unable to take any hostage. They’ve become more sophisticated, bolder.”

It was Rhysand that drew his eyes from Ivy. “One random contingent of—”

“It’s not random,” Alexander interrupted with frustration. “It’s regimented and well organized and the attacks are increasing. They’ve destroyed several villages…they’ve taken hostages.”

“I want to see it,” Rhysand drawled. “Would you agree to showing my son?”

Alexander nodded tightly, his mood lightening ever so slightly when Helion added, “Send Ivy, as well.”

He looked back up at Ivy, unsurprised to see the disappointment on her face. 

Alexander should have felt it, too.

*

“Don’t make me go,” Ivy pleaded with her dad as her mother packed for her. “I hate Spring. Send Soren.”

“The other courts trust you more than they trust Nyx,” her father explained patiently. “They trust our family. It’s important to know what, exactly, is happening. I trust you. This will be good practice for your future.”

Her chest ached. Alexander had left the day before without so much as a word, taking his delightful sister with him. All the other courts were still here, would remain for the rest of the week. Just Spring felt themselves above everyone else, too good to mingle with the common folk. Perhaps she ought to be grateful for that given how pulled she felt to Alexander. It wasn’t just her, either. Soren, after years of helping her taunt Alexander, had spent the evening with Finn, of all people, creating mischief in Rhodes. 

“Can’t you—”

“No,” Lucien Vanserra’s eyes were cutting. She wanted to be High Lady, had begged and pleaded for the best education Prythian had to offer. Her father had taken her up on it and now Ivy would be made to prove it hadn't been wasted. . Nyx, at least, would be joining her, though she knew she would be expected to behave herself like a future High Lady and not like a wild child running barefoot through the countryside with her favorite cousin.

Nyx said nothing when Ivy found him the next morning, picking a piece of lint from his black tunic. She stepped beside him in her long, white dress with a sigh.

“Two days, max,” Nyx told her with a grimace. “Father swore it.”

Nyx looked glumly over the city rising with the dawn. “He thinks I don’t comport myself like a future High Lord ought to. Uncle Lucien is supposed to shape me up.”

“You and me both,” she commiserated. “I can be nice if you can.”

Nyx scowled, wiping the expression from his face the moment their father met them at the top of the steps. Lucien glanced outwards, dressed in pristine white from head to toe. “Ready?” he asked.

Nyx and Ivy nodded wordlessly, clasping hands so Lucien would be forced to winnow them all. Darkness gobbled them up, taking them from the oppressive morning heat of Day Court summer to the fresh, warm lilac breeze of early morning Spring. It was jarring to Ivy, who hadn’t seen the rolling, grassy hills in a good decade at least. Nyx, too, blinked against the pinkish glow of morning, his black boots crunching against the gravel drive. 

Her father was already walking towards the sprawling ivory manor, his former home once upon a time. Nyx and Ivy trailed behind him. How had he stood it, she wondered? How had this place been home for over a century? Even Autumn made more sense to her. Ivy preferred the blistering heat of Day Court to every other place and struggled to picture the severe, brutal Alexander frolicking in this place.

The Lady of Spring was waiting, her pretty lilac dress floating on a breeze. Soft brown curls blew about her lovely, fair face and Ivy wondered if she was happy. She could tell, from how still Nyx stood, that he wondered the same. She certainly looked it, beaming with pleasure as she led them in. Ivy had heard she was a commoner, had met the High Lord by accident and wondered if that was true.

“Welcome,” she murmured, so soft spoken her voice was practically lost to the lilac scented air around them. “Come, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Ivy looked up at her cousin, aware her face must have the same skeptical look to it. Beside her, Lucien bowed gracefully before stepping into the estate, leaving her and Nyx to fend for themselves. They both gaped for a moment before Ivy remembered this female had done nothing wrong. She didn’t deserve to be on the other end of their feud with her husband. 

“You’re kind, Lady,” Ivy finally murmured, drawing on her training. She was, after all, still her father’s daughter and somehow her father had lived with him for a century or more before he’d met her mother. Nyx was clearly thinking the same, his blue eyes looking around, stunned perhaps that his mother had ever spent a minute somewhere as placid.

This place makes me uncomfortable, Nyx’s voice floated through her mind. She’d forgotten he could speak to her like this.

It’s so quiet, she agreed.

The empty halls unnerved her, too. Day was bustling, busy, and full of talking, of laughter, of music. 

“Please. My name is Adelina—”

“Lady Adelina,” Tamlin’s voice interrupted as he turned a corner. Both Nyx and Ivy stopped, confronted with the man who had done so much harm to their mothers. He assessed them, too, as though looking for any of the defiance that marked the Archeron’s. He knew Ivy well enough, paid her only a passing glance before his eyes settled firmly on Nyx.

I hate him, Nyx snarled. Ivy said nothing though she shared the sentiment. 

“Welcome to Spring,” Tamlin told them, the warmth in his voice unmatched by the coldness of his eyes.

Nyx cringed softly beside her. Ivy could do this. She was the daughter of Lucien Spell-Cleaver after all. Had Lucien ever once let his personal feelings get in the way of duty? Ivy smiled sweetly.

“We promise to take up as little of your time as possible. Truly, High Lord, this is too generous and we are forever grateful.”

Her words caught him off guard. “It…it’s nothing,” he replied and Ivy could see how her father had managed to live so long with Tamlin. Tamlin had none of her fathers talent for words, for social graces. 

Alexander is just like his father, she thought with more than a little wonder.

Why does that matter? Nyx asked, still in her head. She shoved him out before he gleaned any other information. 

“I have given you your fathers old room,” Lady Adelina informed them, smiling sweetly at her husband. “And your mothers. I thought perhaps…you might like to know more about them and their time here.”

A muscle worked itself in Tamlin’s jaw but he stepped aside and allowed his Lady to continue their descent upwards. Ivy took her room first, momentarily stunned at how much of her father still seemed to linger. It smelled just like him. Nyx, too, peered inside with curiosity before walking away, down the opposite end of the hall. 

It was strange to imagine a life in which her father was Autumn or Spring. To her, he’d only ever been the son of the High Lord of Day. Her father, happily married to her mother. He was the male who’d carried her atop his shoulders and thrown her off cliffs into sun warmed sea water. The male who built sandcastles and taught her how to lace her sandals. Who’d shown her how command wind and fire and sunlight, who taught her to read and to determine who lied and who told the truth. 

How had he stood it, she wondered not for the first time, running her fingers over dusty books stacked on shelves? She picked up an old forgotten dagger when a knock on the door turned her around.

“Can you believe our parents—” She froze, because it wasn’t Nyx who stood in the doorway, but tall, foreboding Alexander. She swallowed, watching his eyes drift from her face to the knife in her hand. 

“Can…do you have a moment?” he asked, quietly closing the door behind him. 

“I suppose,” she replied, that same strange pulling tugging in her gut. Alexander didn’t move an inch. It was as if she repulsed him. It hurt her feelings a little. Surely he couldn’t do better?

He didn’t speak. Silence stretched around them and finally, “Do you and Nyx plan to share a tent?”

“Oh.”

Confusion flitted over his face and, annoyed with herself, Ivy took the opportunity to make him feel bad about himself. “Where else would I sleep? With you?”

His eyes darkened. “By yourself,” he shot back. Suddenly it was Ivy who felt dumb. 

“Oh…by myself is fine,” she decided, glancing down at her feet. Alexander said nothing else, sliding from the room with disgust on his face. She supposed she deserved it. After all, it would be him, Nyx, and her alone for a day and a night and he was trying to be accommodating. 

Ivy sighed loudly, pushing herself from the bed and back into the early morning air. She was greeted by Aine, grinning brightly in a pretty dress of blue. 

“You’re back,” she said with a grin, offering up a chubby, sticky hand. “Let me show you the garden. Papa says good hosts do things like that.”

“Your papa is a smart man,” Ivy agreed, happy to be led through the same halls her father had once roamed. In fact, she caught sight of him in a parlor with the High Lord of spring, grinning ear to ear, a glass of brandy in his hand. He winked when he saw her but did nothing to intervene. Ivy wasn’t even sure she wanted him to, surprised as she was to see how easy going her father was. 

That was the courtier in him, she supposed. Lucien could stare down the person he hated most with a smile. Ivy was still struggling with that. 

“Do you love it?” Aine asked, weaving through glass doors towards the beginnings of a sprawling, lush garden. Ivy paused, momentarily stunned.

“It’s beautiful,” she finally said, ignoring how the little girl was jumping up and down.

“Will you chase after me again?” Aine asked, revealing her true motivation for bringing Ivy out to the garden. “Please? Please please please plea—”

“Are you going to be a bear again?” Ivy demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yes.”

Ivy pretended to think about it, a finger pressed to her chin. Aine clasped her hands, holding them to her cheek.

“Okay. You better ru—”

 Aine had already shifted and was snorting through the garden, trampling a row of lovely irises as she went. Ivy smiled, hiking up the side of her dress to give chase. 

She supposed Spring wasn’t all bad.

*

Alexander was tasked with bringing Ivy in for dinner. She’d been out in the garden with Aine all day, far better than spending it indoors with Nyx. Alexander had caught Nyx in his fathers study, snooping through carefully organized documents and maps.

“What are you doing?” he’d demanded. Nyx had looked up, eyes flashing with guilt before settling into loathing.

“Looking for my grandmothers wings,” he finally said. 

“You’re grand–what?” Alexander demanded. 

“Your grandfather killed my grandmother and aunt,” Nyx began while Alexander crossed his arms over his chest. He’d never heard this story. “And pinned their wings up somewhere in the house.”

“He’s dead,” Alexander reminded Nyx. Nyx sneered.

“You don’t keep trophies?”

It had taken every ounce of Alexander’s willpower to keep him from hitting Nyx in the face. “Who would? There’s no honor in killing females.”

“And yet, your family did.”

“Did your grandfather not?” Alexander shot back. He knew who had killed his grandmother. They stared the other down for a moment, neither wanting to admit that perhaps both their families had done heinous, unforgivable things. Alexander’s eyes drifted to the map behind his fathers desk, trying to picture wings hanging there like some kind of disgusting trophy of war. He shook his head.

“Look wherever you like. Nothing like that exists anymore.”

He’d been grateful when his mother asked him to track down Ivy and Aine in the garden, brooding over that new information. He’d almost asked her before stopping himself–if he didn’t know, perhaps she didn’t either. Why dredge up that horrible piece of family history? 

Lucien Vanserra was standing in the drive, face bright with amusement. The sound of soft bear snufflings and loud laughter told him Ivy and Aine were playing Aine’s favorite game—the one in which she was a bear and everyone chased after her. Alexander didn’t have to do much to get Ivy. She emerged, her dress tied between her legs in a big knot, revealing slim, tawny legs that gleamed in the late afternoon sun. Her hair stuck against her pretty face, sweaty and still somehow lovely. She practically glowed, a princess of all the light that touched her.

Beside him, Lucien Vanserra cleared his throat loudly, eyes sliding towards Alexander. Too late, he realized his scent must have shifted and the elder male had caught it on the wind. Embarrassment crawled over Alex's skin, forcing him to look anywhere but at the red head grinning as she approached her dad. As if Alex were the first male to find Ivy appealing.

Ivy walked to her dad, who put his arm around her shoulder just in time for Alex to say, “Dinner is ready.”

He caught Aine with one arm before she could sneak off. She writhed, teeth sinking into his bare arm.

“You’re feral,” he complained, turning his back to the Vanserra’s to drag her inside.

“You’re a brute,” she retorted, blood staining her teeth. 

“Don’t you dare shift,” he hissed, tasting the magic in the air. His own claws punched through his knuckles in warning, just in time for Nyx to see. He smirked, as though every thought he’d ever had about Alexander was confirmed. Alex dropped his sister to the floor, angry that someone assumed he would hurt her just because she was annoying.

“Maybe the magic won’t choose you!” she screeched, dirt smudging her cheek. “Maybe I’ll be like Ivy and it’ll pick me!”

“I wish it would,” he snapped back just in time for Lucien and Ivy to see. Ivy’s eyes followed after Aine’s retreating form. Lucien put a hand on his back, apparently willing to overlook his momentary lapse of judgment in the garden and how he’s been all but ogling his eldest daughter.

“They grow out of it,” Lucien murmured, as if Alex hadn’t meant every word he’d said. He wished the magic would choose differently, that any one of his siblings might inherit Spring’s magic. It was mere guesswork that it might one day be him—he was strongest, had shifted youngest. Aine, though, was strong too and her magic was far more specific. Let her take over.

Alexander certainly wanted nothing to do with ruling.

Dinner was a tedious affair. Nyx and Ivy sat with Lucien between them to act as a clear buffer, His mother made the majority of conversation though occasionally Lucien would offer up a piece of long forgotten history and his father would smile softly, remembering those times. It was strange to see Tamlin that way and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. 

The only positive was Ivy and Nyx, forced by Lucien to keep their mouths shut. If they talked quietly in their heads between each other, Alex didn’t know. Didn’t care. He helped his mother clear the table before dropping them off to the servants in the kitchen. With nothing else to do, Alexander went outside to prepare for the coming morning. It was one day, one night, he told himself. He could manage that. He could handle Ivy and Nyx all on his own, could prove to his father he was High Lord material.

Tamlin was waiting when Alexander returned closer to midnight, standing just outside his study. “Take them nowhere else,” his father warned. “To the villages on the border and then back. I don’t want Rhysand’s eyes anywhere else on this territory.”

Alexander nodded, though he hesitated for a moment. “Did we used to display Night Court wings in this home?”

His father flinched. “I burned them.”

“Do they know that?” he couldn’t help but ask. 

“They are not innocent of the atrocities committed,

“I never said they were,” Alexander protested, well aware pushing would only make things worse. “But an explanation might go a long way towards fixing things between—”

“There is no fixing,” Tamlin interrupted. “Only control. What more can I do to show I’m not a threat to them? You’d think, from how Rhysand and his son act, I am still chasing after…” he couldn’t say her name. “It’s over. I’ve let it go. If they are unable…that’s not my problem anymore.”

Alex heaved a sigh. “Right.”

“Nowhere else!” Tamlin called after his retreating back. As if Ivy or Nyx would even want to see anything else.

*

After a quick goodbye with her father, Ivy mounted the butter yellow mare Alexander had provided for her. They wouldn’t be alone. Besides her and Nyx, he was bringing a guard of ten. It was a surprising mix of both males and females, apparently the first Spring had ever seen. Tamlin had explained almost apologetically at dinner, saying they respected females as gentle creatures in their court, and recognized some wanted to fight. Both Ivy and Nyx had kept their mouth shut over eggs, well aware their own mothers would have had something to say about gentle creatures.

Alexander had gruffly introduced them to each member in turn. Nyx, ever the politician, had gone around shaking hands as if he needed their approval to one day be High Lord. Ivy suspected he wanted to be sure that if anything went wrong, they’d have his back. She was far more optimistic that soldiers followed orders, offering a polite bow all at once. 

Alexander had tied his shoulder length blonde hair into a ponytail, a baldric of knives over his oak brown tunic. His arms were bare, muscles flexing as he moved. Ivy had to wipe her palms on her own tailored black pants, unsure why the sight of the Spring Court prince armed to the teeth was making her so nervous. 

There were plenty of handsome males back home. Day Court had no shortage of them and yet no one had ever made her feel so out of sorts like this. It was disorienting and beyond that, upsetting. It wasn’t just any male—it was Alexander. They’d never had one good conversation. She could take some of that blame but he’d never tried very hard, either. Sh couldn't remember having ever felt so drawn to him, to wanting to touch him with her traitorous, twitching fingers.

Ivy decided to focus on the sprawling countryside. It was so lush here, so green and bright. The air had that same lilac scent to it, fluttering against the braid of her hair as though it were an old companion. It was odd how much nothing there seemed to be. For several hours they sat in those saddles. Ivy ignored how badly her thighs had begun to ache, drinking in the surroundings. 

The road shifted from dirt to gravel to paved asphalt as the air, too, gave way. No longer did flowers hang on the breeze but a choking ash filled her nostrils. It took clearing a small hill to see why. Just beneath in a bright valley, lay the ruined, smoldering remains of what had likely been town large enough to practically be a city. Miles stretched in every direction, pouring smoke up towards the sunny sky. 

Ivy slid from her saddle, the first to hit the ground. She didn’t know why, but it seemed important to be on the ground as she strode through the once lovely archway. Alexander came next, his feet practically echoing beside her. The world seemed to groan at his presence, as though it recognized him, bowing to the future High Lord. 

“How close are we to the border?” Nyx asked softly, tucking his dark wings tight against his body.

“Hours, still,” Alexander whispered softly, the anguish on his face plain. Ivy couldn’t help but fall into step with him. They weren’t friends, weren’t even friendly. She could set it aside for this.

“How many people lived here?”

“Ten thousand,” he murmured. Nyx choked behind him, finally coming to the ground, reins in hand.

“Where did they all go?”

Alexander didn’t speak. None of them did. Nyx knew as well as her that no one had been spared. If the humans could come this far inland, could so easily decimate an entire city, what else might they be capable of? Not even the children had been left alive. It was stunning, the savage cruelty.

Ivy wasn’t prepared for the horror of the day. Each new, ruined village weighed heavily on her shoulders. Alexander explained not everyone was accounted for—some had been taken, though to what purpose, he could only guess. 

The border itself stood between the last small village and a dense woodland. “It should be impossible for them to cross,” Alexander told them as dusk began to fell. They were setting up tents just outside the village though the smell of smoldering wood and despair hung thickly in the air. Ivy felt exhausted, her mind blank. 

“A village so closed to the bordered might be considered provocation,” Nyx murmured, eyes staring into the darkness of the trees. She wondered what he saw. 

Alexander only shrugged. “And the others?”

Nyx didn’t have an answer to that. It was just like Nyx and Ivy to want to give humans the benefit of the doubt. Both their mothers had once been human. Those sympathies ran deep. Even now, Ivy tried to consider the fears of the humans. Maybe they thought it was better to attack first than be caught in whatever war they imagined was coming.

“They had to have known this was farmland,” Alexander was telling Nyx. “And families, females and their children—”

“How would they know that?” Nyx asked haughtily, turning his starry eyes towards Alexander. Ivy watched Alexander’s claws peek through his knuckles even as he swallowed his anger.

“I assume the screaming females attempting to flee with their young would have been the first indicator this was not a garrison.”

Ivy pressed her fingertips against her lips. “We need to speak with Vassa,” she murmured to Nyx. She was Queen now, was supposed to be overseeing these things.

Alexander scrubbed a hand down his face, the faint hint of stumbling gracing the strong cut of his jaw. She wanted to comfort him and didn’t know why, felt that strange pull again.

Ivy waited through dinner and drinking for his soldiers to retire. Alexander, too, slipped between the flaps of his tent until it was just her sitting in the dark. Nyx had left, his eyes farway. She knew he was communicating with his father in that strange way of his, connected despite the distance. 

She waited until clouds covered the moon, stealing the last little moonlight left. Ivy made her way to Alexander’s tent, pushing aside the flap. He was still dressed, lounging against his bedroll, one arm tucked behind his head. He went still when he saw her.

“Come in,” he offered dryly when she stepped inside. Ivy kept a healthy distance between them.

“How do you know this isn’t revenge?” she asked by way of greeting, vocalizing the thought she’d been keeping tucked tight in the back of her mind. Alexander’s handsome face immediately twisted to a scowl.

“Are you insinuating my people deserved what happened to them?” 

Ivy exhaled through her nose. “Perhaps the humans haven’t forgotten what your father allowed.”

He rose to his feet, so tall he had to duck at the tallest peak of the tent. “Oh? You know what my people haven’t forgotten? Your aunt destroying their home as an act of revenge.”

Ivy felt as if he’d punched her in the chest. She knew so little of that story, admittedly. Her father had always been sparse on the details that led to him fleeing Spring and she knew that bad blood had persisted long after Tamlin remarried. To hear Lucien Vanserra tell it, he’d gone on a harrowing mission to find his mate. 

“Maybe the humans are angry about that fucking wall. It doesn’t give them the right to murder innocents. Not when my father did his best to protect them and has aggressively punished any faerie caught crossing the border.”

Ivy took a step back as he came towards her. It had been a mistake to try and speak with him.

“I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Didn’t you, though?” he interrupted with a dry laugh. He came closer still, his body practically sucking up all the available space. Too late, she realized just how cramped the tent was, how close they truly were. What was she doing? Why had she come in here at all?

“I’m not my father,” he added after a moment. “But would it be so bad if I was?”

Ivy felt a punch of heat splinter at her back. “Oh,” she gasped, falling forwards. He caught her easily, holding her in warm arms. He smelled nice, of woodsmoke and pine. She took a breath, unable to understand why standing felt so difficult. The magic in her body lashed wildy before stuttering with a violence that made her choke. 

“You’re bleeding,” Alexander murmured, his hand on her back. “Ivy there’s an—”

Another arrow whizzed through the air, slicing through the tent and catching him roughly in the shoulder. Alexander roared furiously, waking his soldiers from their slumber. The two stumbled from the tent to find utter chaos. Choking, sickly sweet fog was racing towards them. She threw her arm up against it, blasting a pulse of white hot light towards the line of trees. Nyx was somewhere in the distance, weaving his own night kissed power blindly.

“Go!” Alexander roared again, realizing what was happening. Faebane in the arrows, mingled with the smoke, was choking the life from them. “Ivy, Nyx, you need…”

She never heard what she needed. She should have winnowed away even as she sank to her knees. Everything slowed, their voices distorted like she was underwater. It was all she could do to lay down and gasp desperately for air. Darkness seeped at the edges of her vision.

She was grateful to know nothing else. 

-

Ivy awoke to shooting, blinding pain. She groaned, twisting to touch her back. Chains rattled, iron digging into her wrists. She heard someone sigh.

“You’re awake.”

She opened an eye, and then another, disturbed to find herself in a cold, dark dungeon. Her arms were pinned up over her head and her back throbbed. She exhaled as Alexander came into focus. While just her arms were tied, he was chained at the neck, the wrists, and the ankles. His blonde hair was wild around his bruised face, his tunic torn at the shoulder. It was obvious he’d put up one hell of a fight. 

“What happened?” She croaked, tugging at her hands.

“We were betrayed,” he replied, his green eyes flashing dangerously. “Your cousin went for help but who knows where he landed when the faebane set in.”

“Who betrayed you?” she asked, resting her head against cool stone. 

“I don’t know,” Alexander replied. “But they’re owed a conversation with my sword.”

His voice was cold, dripping with promise. She shivered. “And if we don’t escape?”

His eyes found hers. “Do you doubt me?”

“I hardly know you,” she admitted. Alexander’s expression didn’t change.

“I’ll have my revenge.”

Ivy didn’t know how long they sat in silence. At some point Alexander fell asleep but she could not, kept awake by her aching back and her fear. Alexander was the warrior, she the politician and though her father had taught her to use a blade she would need Alexander if she had any hope to escape. That seemed unlikely given how Alexander was literally chained at the neck. How did he plan to escape? 

While he slept, Ivy thought. Perhaps she could lull their captors into a false sense of security. She could convince them she was harmless, nothing to be worried about. Alexander certainly seemed terrifying. He was six feet, five inches of pure muscle but Ivy was small, petite, and unassuming. The humans didn’t need to know that, of the two of them, her magic was stronger.

She heard them coming from somewhere above, heard them talking.

“…Surely the female must be awake.”

“Careful, she might bite.”

There was laughter. “The male went feral when we pulled her out of that tent. If he tries anything, put a knife to her throat.”

Alexander peaked open one eye to look at her before closing it again, his chest barely moving. A moment later the heavy iron door opened and two human men came in carrying water and stinking food. 

“Well, look who is awake,” the uglier of the two crooned. “How are you feeling?”

She didn’t respond though she jerked her head to the side when the other, just as ugly and reeking of blood and rotting meat, touched her face. “She glows.”

“Why do you glow?” the first asked, his brown eyes leering. She was dressed in pants and a fitted white shirt, stained with blood and dirt and yet might as well have been naked for how their eyes roamed against her.  

“Please, let us go,” she whispered as she tried summoning her magic. Nothing came. The faebane hadn’t worn off. “We’ll do anything—”

“That one will kill us,” the second reminded her, jerking towards Alexander. He flashed his teeth, his eyes lethal. “But maybe we’ll let you go…if you do something for us?”

A bargain. Humans didn’t understand fae bargains. She could use this to her advantage. “What?”

They both chuckled. “Hows about you touch our cocks, hm?”

Stupid. Alexander didn’t move, didn’t dare react. He knew, just as she did, that bargains with the fae needed to be specific. “And if I do, you’ll let me go? Immediately?”

They laughed again. “Right away,” they agreed.

“It’s a deal,” she replied, catching how Alexander���s eyes closed for a moment. He didn’t like it, didn’t like the implication of the what she'd agreed to, but Ivy didn’t care. She’d rip their genitals from their bodies, which counted as touching, and then she’d be free. Even without her magic she trusted she was strong enough to best a couple of dimwitted humans.

“Get your strength up, then. You have a long day ahead of you,” the second said. To her surprise, he unchained her hands before shoving a cup of water into it. One sniff told her it was laced with more faebane.

“Feed that one,” the first barked, tossing a tray of rotted food at Alexander’s feet. She waited until she couldn’t hear them any longer before skittering across the damn floor for the chain around his neck. She’d never been so close to him before and the scent of him was staggering. Alexander watched, eyes huge.

“That was a clever,” he murmured as she wrenched against the restraint.

“Would you like me to torture the name of your leak from them?” she asked dryly, sitting beside him when she realized the iron holding him wouldn’t budge. He grimaced.

“Only if you feel compelled to do so. When you’re freed…don’t come back.”

“I’m not leaving you—”

“Yes you will.”

She scowled. “You think you can tell me what to do because—”

“Because I’m my father?” he interrupted, irritated. She felt a prick of guilt because yes, that was exactly what she’d been about to say. He knew it, too. 

“How long do you think it takes the faebane to wear off?” she asked instead, holding that cup in her trembling hands. 

“Longer than it’ll take us to starve to death,” he replied grimly, nodding towards the cup. He opened his mouth and she poured water in, ignoring the way her whole body seemed tighten. She sniffed the food, splitting what was edible between them before settling back against the damp, stone floor. Alexander couldn’t move and Ivy was too tired to try. There was no way out but the door, besides. The room was so small, with the tiniest, barred window just overhead.

“Do you think Nyx got back okay?” she asked.

Alexander closed his eyes again. “Let's hope so.”

“I can’t leave without you,” she whispered, the truth of the matter. “We have to work together.”

“Whatever you say,” he replied with a voice that very much betrayed his belief that he would not be leaving at all. 

Ivy could still hear the humans talking just outside the door, describing how feral Alexander had gone when they tried to take her. How he’d fought with all those protruding arrows, even when he could have escaped himself. How he’d crouched over her body, half beast, half man, until he’d been felled himself. Alexander could hear it too, his arched, pointed ears twitching softly in the dim light. She didn’t dare look at him, didn’t dare ask what had provoked such a reaction. 

Why hadn’t he tried to escape? 

She didn’t think she wanted to know

*

Alexander woke to Ivy’s head on his chest. She was asleep, one hand curled against his chest, the other resting on his thigh. Something tugged in his chest, a feeling he was becoming too familiar with. He couldn’t bury it like he’d done back at the estate even as he ignored what he knew was barreling towards him. Seeing Ivy collapse in his arms, watching how she’d fallen to the ground had made him insane. He’d been unable to think of anything but protecting her, even at the expense of his own safety. It had been irrational, utterly stupid. He might have winnowed them both out if he’d kept his head on straight. 

He held himself still so he wouldn’t wake her, even though his spine ached from sitting so rigidly on the unyielding ground. Her hair spilled over his legs. It would have been an erotic sight if they’d been anywhere else. Even there, barely able to move, he felt taut and too fascinated. He shifted slightly, trying to take some of the pressure off his back. 

“You’re awake,” she murmured, her voice thick. 

“Go back to sleep,” he replied, aware it was practically impossible to sleep on the hard, stone floor. The only light they had was coming from her skin, marking her the undisputed Heir of Day Court. Dim, dull night poured through the window. They were in the human lands somewhere. That hardly bade well. 

Overhead, the humans were restless. Word had spread of Ivy’s willingness to touch them. They were all talk for the moment, boasting of all the ways they’d enjoy her. When Ivy slept, it hardly mattered what they said. Alexander had buried his hatred deep, deep down. Now, though, she stirred, pushing upwards to listen. Neither moved when their footsteps began to move towards the stairs. They were drunk if the jangling, fumbling keys in the door were any indication. Ivy looked to Alexander, who had nothing to offer her. 

“On your feet, whore,” they taunted. Ivy stood slowly, eyes shifting from their faces towards the open door. She could have run—even without magic she would have been faster than their eyes could track. She didn’t. She wasn’t leaving without him. Alexander almost hated her for it. 

There were two of them, older males by the looks of it, with graying brown hair and eyes that wrinkled at the corners. They leered at Ivy, likely the most beautiful female they’d ever seen in their lives. Alexander growled when they put their hands on her shoulders, forcing her to her knees.

“He doesn’t like that,” one taunted, pulling a knife from his ill-fitting brown pants. “I hear your lot claims their women.”

Ivy’s eyes burned with hatred when the first grabbed her wrists and pushed them back into the iron manacles. 

“He’s gonna watch me claim her,” the first laughed, drawing his own sword. “You know what else they say about your kind?”

He was too close to Ivy. She reared her head back and slammed it into his own. Blood poured from the human males face. He hit her roughly, over and over until Alexander was snarling, pulling against his chains as hard as he could. The iron groaned loudly but didn’t budge.

“That’s iron,” the second said, holding his dagger close to Alexander’s cheek. “You ain’t getting from it.”

Ivy gasped, spitting blood to the floor. Her russet eyes were glassy and bright, the glow of her skin dulled. Both men rounded on her, clearly thinking her weaker. “They say your kind heals real fast,” they told her. Ivy shook her head back and forth, hands clenched to fists in her manacles. “Is that true.”

“Get fucked,” she replied furiously. Alexander could do little more but watch that blade slice brutally sharp over her forehead, taunting as it just narrowly avoided her eye to dig against her cheek, kissing over her jaw before trailing down her neck. He struggled until the iron cut brutally against his wrists, unyielding despite his strength. She gasped softly when the sharp knife trailed down her neck, avoiding the pumping artery to slide fully into her shoulder. She cried in pain, throwing her head back, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Guess they feel some pain,” the second chuckled when the knife cut from her skin, dripping red with blood. Alexander was losing himself, could feel how desperately his body wanted to shift into a beast and rip them apart. 

Ivy’s screams filled the air as they tortured her, finding sick satisfaction as they broke her leg with a vicious stomp, as they slid her shirt up over her skin to poke their knife between her ribs and beneath her breasts. Alexander snapped when he watched one of them reach for the ties of her pants, ripping one his chains clean off the wall. 

It was his chest snapping, he realized, the other hand coming loose. Both men were looking at him with fear. “It’s iron,” one said to the other, his knife clattering loudly to the ground. Alexander pulled the restraint from his neck off with ease, rising to his full height so they could soak in their fear one final time. The scent of their arousal immediately shifted to piss and fear. He didn’t need to free his feet to catch the first, the one who’d begun touching her.

Mate, instinct screamed. Touched his mate. 

Alexander ripped his head off his body without a second though, tossing the body limply to the ground. The other tried to duck past him, losing his head the same way. Blood sprayed through the room, coating them both. Ivy was panting—staring.

“Oh no,” she whispered, staring up at him. She felt it too, felt that cord that tied them together. He said nothing, too keyed up to do anything but free them both. He’d worry about the rest when they made it out. Stealing the keys from one of the headless bodies, he undid the shackles at his ankles before staggering towards her. She might have already begun to heal if their magic was restored. Her own blood dripped from her still open wounds, her leg bent at an unnatural angle. Alexander undid the irons holding her, catching her before she fell. For as aching as he was, he knew he had nothing on her. 

“Can you walk?” he asked, ignoring the obvious question between them. Touching her was a new kind of torture, equisite and terrible by equal measure. All he wanted was to touch her, to smell her, to taste her—

“No,” she grimaced, leaning heavily against him. He crouched, gesturing for her to hold his neck so he could carry her against his back. Ivy didn’t complain, didn’t protest. He could feel the hammer of her heart against his skin, thrumming painfully loud in the silence. He hooked her legs around him, ignoring the hiss of pain against his neck. 

“You can’t fight like this,” she reminded him, her mouth inches from his ear. He was going insane. She was right about that, though for the wrong reasons. If she kept talking to him like that she was going to give him an erection. Alexander was certain he couldn’t do anything when he was fully hard and aching for her. 

“I’ve fought under worse conditions,” he lied, bending for one of the blood stained knives. He pushed open the door, the ring of keys in his pocket, and began walking the pair up the winding, narrowed stairs. He felt her nose run along the skin behind his ear, causing his knees to nearly buckle.

“Stop it,” he demanded roughly, adjusting the weight of her. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, maybe for the first time in her life.

“Don’t get soft on me now,” he retorted, listening for more humans. How many could he take like this? They were surprisingly fragile, soft and breakable in his hands. If he’d had his magic, it would have been no contest—but then, if Ivy had hers, there would be no need for him to shift at all. He’d heard rumors of her, of the blend of Day and Autumn Court magic thrumming through her veins. It made the other courts nervous. They kept to their own for a reason, not wanting to share their secrets. Eris Vanserra didn’t seem to care, at least. What would they say when they realized hybrid Ivy was mates with the Spring Court.

“You’re grinding your teeth,” she whispered. “Stop it.”

It only made him grind them harder. Clearly being mates hadn’t softened her feelings towards him, which was just as well. Alexander wasn’t faring much better. Wanting to fuck her and wanting to spend the rest of his life with her were two different things. She’d made his life hell for longer than he cared to admit. 

“When I’m well, I’m coming back to kill them all,” she whispered when Alexander wrenched open a door forcefully, spilling the pair into the cold night. 

“That’s the spirit,” he mumbled, surveying his surroundings. Something were innate and his good vision was one of them. He supposed he ought to thank his father for forcing years of tracking on him, of all those nights on his own with nothing but a weapon. Of course, he’d never been responsible for another injured person who was, for practical purposes, defenseless. Still, Alexander stepped into crunching snow. They were atop a mountain and no where close to home. Winnowing would be impossible. Their only option was to run. 

“Hold on,” he ordered. Ivy’s arms tangled tightly around his neck, her body taut against his own. Alexander swallowed the urge to shove her against something and take her in favor of breaking into a sprint. He needed to burn his new, restless energy. Just in time, he thought, as he began making his way down the mountainside as carefully as he dared. An alarm sounded behind him, warning the humans the fae were on the loose. Alexander almost smiled.

He hoped they were scared. 

*

Mates. Ivy turned the word over and over in her head for the duration of the night. Alexander didn’t falter though he did begin to slow as dawn approached. They were stuck atop a mountain she’d never seen before, far above a pine forest she could see lingering below. How close to Spring they were after that, well…only Alexander knew for sure. 

So they ran, faster than any human could catch, putting days between them and their would-be captors. She understood now why he assumed someone must have sold them out. If they stopped now, the humans might catch them in two days assuming they didn’t stop for breaks. By the time Alexander’s steps slowed to a plodding stop they were at the treeline. The ground was still covered in snow, still bitingly cold but better than the high elevation from before.

The fact that Alexander had run it was a testament to his training, if nothing else. He hadn’t complained, hadn’t set her down. He set her down as gently as could atop a cold, jagged rock beside a stream, dropping to a panting crouch to gulp down clean, clear water. He said nothing for a moment, working to catch his breath. 

Ivy scooted along the edge, fingering the bloodied scar over her face. It was hardly her worst injury but aesthetically, it was the most noticeable. Staring at her reflection in the rippling water, she thought she’d never looked more like her father. It was a comforting notion. Ivy couldn’t crouch like Alexander for water, could barely move her body at all. The knife wounds sliced along her body still oozed blood, battling against the shattered bone of her knee. 

He noticed, nostrils flaring. His own exhaustion was apparent in his grassy green eyes. Ivy said nothing as he paced towards her, hands clenched at his sides. ��Do…do you want water?” he finally asked. 

“I can do it,” she lied, pushing herself gingerly to her feet. There was no lying between them now. He could feel her pain without having to guess, traveling down the line, golden cord now tethering them together. He hesitated for a moment, watching her balance on one foot before scooping her up like she was nothing. “I don’t want to be carried,” she complained, twisting in his arms. He grunted in response, kneeling beside the bank of the creek and setting her along the rocky shore. 

“Of course not, lady,” he offered sarcastically, scooping water in his broad, tanned hand. She drank, swallowing her dignity along with it. He helped her wipe the blood off her body, keeping his eyes to himself which she appreciated. She wasn’t ready to talk about what happened in that fortress. He’d ripped iron from stone to get to her, had torn two humans apart just for touching her. What else might he do?

He sat beside her for a moment, taking a long breath. “We should keep moving.” “Can you?” she asked. He scowled but Ivy hadn’t intended to be anything but genuine. He’d been running with her on his back for hours. Surely he was exhausted.

“I want…I need to put more distance between us,” he finally said, glancing over his shoulder. He presented his back to her and, gingerly, she climbed back on.

“I’ll try not to jostle too much,” he said after adjusting her weight. She rested her chin on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck. 

They lapsed back into silence. The continued steps rocked his body, almost lulling her to sleep. Alexander seemed to notice, perhaps because her hair had begun spilling down his chest. “Are you still bleeding?” he asked her. “Yeah,” she admitted, her clothes.

“It should have slowed by now,” he murmured, looking over his shoulder. It was a mistake. His mouth was suddenly inches from her own. He jerked back, eyes wide. Her heart pounded, desperate to just know. What would it have been like if he had kissed her? He was clearly wondering the same. 

Thinking about him made it easier to forget the pain in her body, if nothing else. “So…High Lord, huh?” 

His whole body went stiff beneath her as if he’d been electrocuted. “So they say,” he finally agreed. She remembered Aine screaming that she might steal the High Lordship from him and Alexander’s bitter words hoping she would. Careful as she dared, Ivy asked, “Do you want to be High Lord?”

“Worried about becoming Lady of Spring?” he shot back. “I’m sure my mother could give you some pointers.” “I’ll break the bond before I go to Spring,” Ivy shot back angrily. Alexander relaxed then, as if that was what he’d been hoping to hear. She’d said it to get a rise out of him, to make him angry. Knowing he didn’t want this at all filled her with dread. 

“Do whatever you want,” he said simply. 

“Glad we agree,” she hissed, her feelings hurt. 

They made it until noon without saying another word. Alexander was coated in a slick sheen of sweat while Ivy, despite being carried, was panting against his neck. “Please,” she whispered, unable to bear another step. “Please put me down.” She had her face buried in his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. His fingers rubbed her legs reassuringly. “Soon.”

“Alex–”

“I swear,” he growled. “A few more minutes.”

It could have been hours for all she knew. She was whimpering by the time he gingerly set her to the ground. She curled on her side, inhaling through her nose and out through her mouth. She had the sense that he’d left. Good. He could go ahead and get help. She’d be alright. Her magic would return to her eventually. 

She heard his boots crunching and his soft breathing. “I thought you left.”

“Why would you think that?” he grunted over the sound of rough scraping.

“You’d be faster without me,” she murmured, sighing when a blast of heat covered her body. She thought it was her magic warming her—Ivy had always run hot—but when she opened an eye, she realized he’d found a cave and had built a fire. 

“I’m not leaving my mate–not leaving you behind,” he said fiercely, settling to the ground gingerly. 

“But you might leave me if I wasn’t?” It was supposed to be a teasing joke but her voice was too pained and soft to sound anything but pathetic.

Alexander sighed, scooting until he was just beside her. He lifted her head so she could rest it in his lap.

“No, Ivy. I wouldn’t leave you, regardless of how much you hate me.” “I don’t hate you,” she admitted. 

“What do you feel?” he pressed, fingers carding through her hair. She exhaled a pained breath.

“Drawn to you.”

“Ah,” he murmured. 

“And I suppose I’m the bane of your existence?” she tried to tease, perring up at him. His expression was unreadable, dark and soft in equal measure.

“You are the loveliest female I’ve ever seen,” he finally said, each word forced from his mouth as though it pained him to say it. “That has always been true.”

He leaned against the rocky cave wall. “Your father is going to kill me.”

She couldn’t argue with that. It wasn’t that he was Tamlin’s son as much as he was just any male who felt he had a claim on Lucien’s daughter. While Soren had been given a longer leash to galavant about, Ivy had always been her daddy’s little girl. He didn’t like the males of his own court sniffing around.

“Helion will be worse,” she finally said with a soft smile.

“And your uncle—”” “Eris will think it’s funny,” she interrupted, certain of that. “He loves these kinds of cosmic jokes.”

“I meant your uncle Rhysand,” Alexander finished, his thumb trailing over the gash across her eye. 

“Oh. Well…him and my dad tolerate each other at best…so you don’t have to worry too much. It’s not like you’re mated to Nyx—”

“Cauldron save me,” Alexander mumbled. There was more silence and then, “Does that mean you’ll accept the bond?”

“You said you didn’t want it,” she winced, rolling to her back. Ignoring Alexander’s heavy gaze overhead, she pulled her shirt upwards, horrified by what she saw. Instead of healing, like even a humans wounds might have done, hers were festering. Puckered and greenish around the edges, Ivy knew what she was looking at.

“Fuckers,” Alexander swore, hands hovering over the inflamed wounds. “They poisoned the blade.”

“How far are we?” she asked, pulling down her shirt. Her heart pounded a frantic beat in her throat, washing her blood with panic. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. 

“You have to go ahead,” she gasped, grabbing his hand. “Leave me here, I’ll—”

“Absolutely not,” he snarled, his body practically vibrating with rage. 

“I’m slowing you down,” she protested. Alexander shook his head, blonde waves framing his wild face. 

“I’ll leave you over my dead body,” he swore. “Don’t ask me again.”

His words settled some of her fear. She curled closer to him, eyes heavy. “Will you wake me in an hour?”

His fingers brushed her cheek. “Of course, lady.”

She barely heard him at all before drifting into sleep.

*

Alexander let Ivy sleep longer than hour, checking her forehead for a temperature every couple minutes. Her skin was blazing hot, her face far too pale for someone with her golden complexion. He left her more than once to collect water. He told himself it was the bond demanding he care for there, that instinct made him want to care for his mate. It was flimsy in his own head. She was delirious, talking about being drawn to him and still it gave him far too much hope.

“Hey,” he murmured as darkness began to settle around them again. He wanted to keep moving, to get out of the cold if he could. “Ivy, wake up.”

She roused but just barely. “Are we home?” she asked him sleepily, nuzzling her head further into his lap. He had to move her, wondering if he was a monster for feeling so aroused while she was so badly injured. 

“Not yet. Come in. Can you climb on my back?”

It was easier to run when he didn’t have to carry her in his arms. Ivy nodded, pushing herself upwards on trembling, weak arms. He was concerned about the state of her wounds. The one on her face was bright red—it would scar if he didn’t get her to a healer. The thought of anything marrying her lovely face was sacrilegious. 

She held herself on his neck, head resting against his shoulder. Alexander had put out the fire before he left. Their tracks would be easy to follow in the snow even for clumsy, slow humans. Alexander ran again, sliding down the mountain with practiced ease. She didn’t move or speak like before. Her head bounced off his body, arms slackening only to retighten when she realized she was about to fall. Over and over, Alexander felt her grip him only to nearly slide off his back.

He’d be lucky if she managed another day like this. As he ran, he battled with his insides, trying to find even a kernel of magic he could use to get them back to Spring and to healer. It was all he thought of through the night, racing through a dark, endless sea of pine trees. He hated the cold, hated how it bit against his skin until it was all he could taste.

The dawn brought a shift in the treeline, warming the air noticeably until he was certain he must be close to Spring. Maybe not his Spring, but a human Spring none the less. They were nearing the base of the mountain and Alexander found himself facing down a new worry. Humans were likely to be lurking nearby. What would happen if they came upon their pair of them, starving and injured and newly mated? 

It was well past noon by the time he tracked down another cave for them to take shelter in. He left her long enough to build another fire and stalk after a lean looking deer, bringing it down with bare, bloodied hands. While Ivy slept on the cave floor, he carved it up carefully, roasting and eating until he felt almost settled.

“Ivy,” he tried again for the second time that day. She was harder to rouse, her lips chapped, skin ashen. Even her pretty hair seemed duller than it had before. She managed to open her good eye, peeking up at him with listless eyes.

“Are we home?” she asked him, reaching for his hand.

“Not yet,” he replied, hauling her into his lap. “You need to eat.”

She shook her head no. “No food.”

“Yes, food,” he insisted, pressing a piece of meat against her lips. “Open your mouth.”

It was the fever that made her complaint. She let him push the food against her tongue, unaware of how his fingertips lingered against the soft skin of her mouth. He swallowed hard. 

“It tastes like ash,” she complained, swallowing anyway. Alexander chuckled.

“Well, I’m not known for my cooking.” She pressed her head against his shoulder, inhaling again. One hand curled over the neckline of his shirt, fingers brushing over his skin. “What are you known for?”

“I…” he didn’t know. “My bees.”

That caught her attention. “Bees?” she questioned, nose nuzzling against his neck. He had to shift, to move her face to keep himself from hardening against her. He couldn’t help it—she was hurt, was seeking comfort the only way her inflamed brain knew how—instinct was screaming for him to claim her before another male did. 

“Spring is filled with flowers, as you may have noticed,” he murmured, rubbing his hand over her cool arm. “And flowers bring bees. I…” he’d never told anyone this, felt almost ashamed to admit it. “I keep bees.”

“You should see mama’s garden,” she murmured sweetly. “You’d be drowning in bees.”

“Oh?” 

“I’d keep away from Soren’s garden…he’s always planting poison but mama’s garden rivals your fathers. It’s so big and beautiful…I’ll bet she’d love it if you gave the bees a home.”

“That would mean coming to your court,” he reminded her. She smiled faintly.

“As consort. The first ever…male, anyway.”

His heart pounded roughly as he pushed her hair off her face. “I would, Ivy.” Her eyes were fluttering shut again, brushing sweetly against her cheek. “No male wants to play second to his female. You’re going to be High Lord, remember?” “No,” he replied, his voice insistent. She peeked back up at him, her hope so plain it made his chest ache. “I don’t want it. I never have.”

She sighed softly. “Remind me if we survive.”

“Don’t go back to sleep,” he tried, but Ivy was asleep again, her chest rising and falling slowly. “Ivy.”

She didn’t rouse, not when night fell and he needed her to climb on his back. She was burning hot despite the faint blue of her cheeks of how violently she was shivering. He dared to look beneath her shirt at her wounds, almost sick by what he saw. They were more than just inflamed but festering, slowly killing her in the most terrible way he could imagine. He could do nothing but watching, cradling her against his chest as he willed himself to winnow home. His magic was but a small flame, practically useless to him other than to verify it existed at all. 

She groaned when he stood, carrying her while he walked. Night had fallen yet again, giving him the cover he needed to stalk through the woods. They reminded him of home, had that same feeling of creeping magic. He ran as best he could, unable to keep himself from jostling her still bleeding body. Only once did he stumble on a pair of hunters, human males with bows and sharp hunting knives.

Alexander froze, holding Ivy closer to his body, teeth bared. He was vibrating, the urge to shift into a beast rippling just beneath his skin. 

“Your kind isn’t supposed to be on this side of the wall,” the first, palms raised outward defensively, was obviously nervous.

“We were brought here,” Alexander growled. “We don’t want anymore trouble.”

The second was peering at Ivy, his eyes too curious for Alexanders liking. He yanked her away, causing Ivy to moan softly in pain. 

“Looks like your friend is hurt,” the second said gently. He crouched to the ground slowly, slinging a leather bag off his shoulder. “I’ve got something that could help.”

“It’s your kind who did this. Why would you help?” he snarled. The second tossed a pouch halfway between their bodies before slinging the bag back over his shoulder.

“We’re not all monsters,” the first murmured, his dull eyes sympathetic. “I imagine your lot isn’t, either.”

“We don’t want any trouble,” the second added. “Wall is about two days walk east, if you’re trying to get back.”

Alexander waited until they crunched away, neither looking back. He had to set Ivy against a nearby tree to snatch the pouch. He inhaled it, recognizing some of the spices within. It wouldn’t fix her—nothing but a healer would—but it would slow her building infection long enough for Alexander to get to the wall.

He wasted an hour creating a poultice, using leaves and the tattered edges of his shirt to create a bandage. He pressed it against her wounds, careful to touch no other part of her. She whined more than once, twisting against the sting. 

“You’re hurting me,” she complained, reaching for her face to pull off the concoction. Alexander swatted her hand away.

“We’re two days from the wall,” he told her, hoisting her back into his arms. “According to humans. If we run, we can be there by morning.”

“I can’t run,” she protested. He almost laughed.

“I know you can’t, sweetheart. Just hold on, okay?”

“To your back?” 

He hesitated. He could move much quicker if he didn’t have to carry her. “Can you?”

“I’ll try,” she whispered. Using the sturdy, rough trunk of a tree, Ivy braced herself on one leg, wrapping her arms around his neck while he held her legs. 

“Good?” he asked, squirming against her mouth, touching his neck.

“Good,” she agreed. Relieved, Alexander took off with a burst of renewed energy. He could have done a full day like that, despite his lack of sleep. Knowing they were so close to the wall—close to home—made Alexander almost giddy with relief. Ivy, for her part, held tight just as she’d promised. Alexander vowed to find the humans who’d helped them and repay their kindness someday. 

“Look,” Alexander told her when that shimmering border to stone and metal came into view. Ivy practically sobbed her relief. Alexander maneuvered through it with the magic that had begun to return, undulled behind the dam. Ivy took a breath the moment they were out of the human lands, holding a hand in front of his face. Pale skin glowed again. 

“I can feel it,” she whispered. “It’s almost there.”

Alexander, too, thought they were probably a full day or so before the magic returned to them. They pressed forward, both conscious, both hopeful. He’d been so afraid she might die out there that Alexander could have laughed his relief into the lilac scented air of his home. He knew where he was now, recognized the hilly plains in front of him. Pink and yellow tulips swayed gently in the night air, dancing beside welcoming blades of grass. 

He saw the estate gleaming in the distance just as the sun broke the horizon, illuminating the gleaming ivory orange and pink.

“Father!” he roared, his steps slowing. Ivy’s arms tangled tightly around his neck, held at the wrist by one of his hands. He used his other arm to hold up her bad leg, letting her hold the rest of her body herself. “Father!”

It wasn’t Tamlin but Lucien Vanserra who appeared at the edge of the drive. The male looked haggard, his face nearly as pale as his daughters. He caught sight of them first, darting across the lawn for Ivy.

“What happened?” he demanded, prying Alexander’s hand off her to pull her gently against him. 

“We were ambushed,” Alexander said as his father approached. Tamlin seemed better rested, perhaps less concerned of the horror that might befall his son. “She needs a healer.”

Ivy reached for him limply, her pretty face half covered in a stinking poultice. The wind ruffed against them, bringing more than the smell of their unwashed bodies with it. Lucien turned furiously, snarling his rage at Alexander.

“What did you do to her?” he demanded, as if Alexander had any say in the matter at all. 

“Daddy,” Ivy murmured. “It was an accident.”

“We’ll discuss this later,” Lucien retorted, taking one step backwards before winnowing into darkness. Alexander lunged as if pulled by a string, furious another male was carrying away his mate. His father caught him before he could create a scene, letting Lucien and Ivy vanish in a cloud of smoke.

“You need to bathe,” Tamlin murmured. “And sleep before you do anything else.”

Alexander rounded on his father. “I’ll do as you ask. But when I wake, I want you to know I’m abdicating my place for High Lord. I don’t want it.”

“Don’t throw away your life on a female—” his father began, speaking from a place of too personal experience.

“I never wanted it,” Alexander snarled, stalking towards the front of the manor. “And the cauldron must have known it.”

After all. It had paired him with the future High Lady of Day. Only one of them could rule.

It would not be him.

*

“Just pry open her lips.”

“You pry them open, I’m not going to hurt her.”“Fine, I’ll open but you pour.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“I’m starting to think you like insufferable—”“Over your dead body, Vanserra.”

“How many times do I have to remind you? I’m not a Vanserra, I’m a Spell-Cleaver–”

“Stop it.” Ivy moaned, opening her eyes to see who was squabbling at her bedside. Soren was sitting on the edge, his auburn curls flopping obnoxiously into his fawn brown eyes. On the otherside was a female she’d never seen before—pretty, with her long curtain of jet black hair and her soft, upturned brown eyes. She was glowing the way both Soren and Ivy did, though the light was a brighter white. Ivy knew that glow.

“Dawn?” she asked stupidly, looking up at the olive skinned female peering down at her.

“I’m Mei,” she explained, holding out a vial. “This is for the faebane that might be lingering, and this is for your wounds.”

“Who did you piss off?” Soren asked, eyes twinkling. “You were half-dead when dad brought you in. He’s raging, by the way.”

Ivy took one of the glass vials and swallowed, choking against the strong minty flavor. The other was easier, a bright citrus that was almost sweet. Ignoring the strange female, Ivy pushed the blanket off her bed and yanked up the fresh shirt she wore. Thin, white scars cut across the brown of her skin, forever etched in reminder. Soren grimaced when her fingers reached for her face. “How bad is it?”

“It looks cool,” Mei said quickly, glancing at Soren. “Like you survived something.”

Ivy noticed the gold of her hand, clicking softly the same way their fathers eye did. Her eyes slid to Soren, who pressed his lips into a thin line. “I told you. Dad is in a rage. Mom practically chained him to the wall.”

Ivy took a breath, sitting up against a wall of cream colored pillows. “How long have I been asleep.”

“A week,” Soren offered, scooting closer on the bed. “You know, there are some things even I can’t See…like your death, for example. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I suppose not,” Soren agreed as Mei made a quick excuse to leave. Ivy watched the slender female slip from the room, catching the all-too familiar scent trailing after her. The moment the door shut behind her, Ivy punched Soren in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” he protested, rubbing where she’d hit him.

“A mate?” Ivy demanded. Soren grinned.

“Ah, well. It’s going about as well as you might expect. She’s not exactly thrilled with the prospects. Our family reputation precedes us.”

“Have you tried being nice?”

He tapped a finger to his chin. “Nice…nice…no, can’t say I’ve ever thought of that. Speaking of which…a certain Spring Court warrior is making the wildest claims about you…”

“Like you didn’t already know,” she grumbled. “Why don’t you spare me the trouble and tell me how it all ends.”

“You know how it ends,” Soren replied serenely, flicking her in the cheek. 

“And you?” Ivy couldn’t help but question, resting her head on her brother's shoulder. “How does it end for you.”

“If I told you, I’d spoil my own fun,” he replied with a sigh. “Mom’s baking tonight, by the way.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you telling me because I look underfed?”

He shrugged. “I’m saying maybe you should wait another day before you go racing out of here to make an impulsive, highly questionable decision.”

Ivy glowered, her insides warming at the thoughts. “It all works out, in the end, doesn’t it?”

Soren bumped her shoulder. “I told you, Ives. Some things even I can’t See. I have faith, though. You should, too.”

“Be nice to your mate,” she told him, poking him hard in the ribs. Soren scowled.

“Has it ever occurred to you that it’s her being mean to me?”

“If she is, I have to assume you deserve it.”

“A fair conclusion,” he murmured. “Get some rest, alright? I’ll let mom and dad know you’re awake.”

Ivy didn’t think she could sleep anymore but as she so often was lately, she was wrong. She woke with a jerk to fingers touching her face. Night had fallen and her father was there, replacing the space her brother had occupied. He was illuminated beneath soft fae lights, his face one of anguish. 

“Your pretty face,” he murmured, his golden eye clicking softly.

“It’s still pretty,” Ivy assured him sleepily, sliding back into a sitting position. She bent her knee, relieved to find it intact and unbothered. 

“Your mother will be right back. She went to check on her bread. She bakes when she’s nervous.”

Elain Archeron was always baking. Ivy didn’t bother telling her dad that her mom baked to give him something to do, and that of the pair, he had always been the one who worried. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“No?” her father arched an eyebrow. “I take my eye off of you for one minute and you get captured by humans and mated to one of Tamlin’s sons…”

Ivy looked down at her hands. “He saved my life.”

“So I’ve heard. Your cousin went through his mind—”

“He had no right,” she hissed, furious Nyx would do such a thing. Her father sighed.

“Alexander demanded it. It was good to know, though…good for us to see. Elain and I met with Vassa this morning to discuss it…she’s sending your Uncle Jurian out to deal with them.”

“And the leak—”

“Handled.” That was all Ivy would ever get to know from her father. She was sure Alexander had in his brutal, unyielding way. Her father shifted, holding out an arm so she could rest against his chest. “You know, you don’t have to make any decisions today. Or even this century,” he added after a moment. 

“Did you say the same thing to Soren?” she demanded.

“Mei is far too good for your brother and she is well aware of it,” her father replied easily, a fond smile over his face. “I don’t have to worry about him…he has that Vanserra blood, whether he wants to admit it or not but you have your mothers soft heart.”

“Seems like it worked out all right for you,” she reminded him pointedly. 

“In retrospect, a little suffering was good for me. Humbling, even,” he added as the door opened. Elain Archeron slipped in, lovely as the first light of dawn, her eyes reproachful.

“That’s not how I remember it,” she murmured playfully. “And you promised you weren’t going to bother her about her mate. 

“So I did,” he agreed sheepishly. Her mother set a tray of food on the edge of the bed, reminding Ivy that her mother showed love this way. Giving some something tangible–a meal, a good gift—was almost better than hearing her say she loved them. Not that her mom had ever been stingy with that, either. 

Her mother kissed her forehead sweetly. “Eat and ignore whatever your father has romanticized about the past. I assure you, he enjoyed none of it.”

“It was good for me!” Lucien protested, letting his mate tug him off the bed. He also pressed a swift kiss against Ivy’s cheek. “You’re beautiful, still,” he told her quickly, fingertips brushing her jaw. “Let Alexander suffer for a while.”

“Lucien!”

“What?! You’re ready for some frenzied male to come snapping in our home? You know how feral they can be! She’s still a baby—”“I am not!” Ivy protested, arms over her chest. Her mother shoved her father from the room playfully, listening to his complaints echo down the hall. There were a million things to consider, things she had no plan for. Ivy thought maybe she didn’t need any of those things.

All she needed were a few bees.

Ivy dressed the next morning just as Soren suggested she ought to. Her dress was perhaps a little risque for Spring, the criss-crossing gold fabric covering her breasts but leaving a triangle of her stomach and all over her back exposed. The skirt of it trailed to the ground, hiding the sandals she always wore. She’d taken great care with her appearance, making her face seem as if it glowed beneath the oppressively bright sun. 

She managed to avoid her parents simply by getting up before dawn and stealing to the kitchen. Just as Soren claimed, there were baked goods along all the surfaces. The staff worked around them without complaint, used to the Day Court princess and her strange ways. Ivy stole a slice of lemon poppyseed bread, wrapping it carefully in a piece of beeswax before leaving the palace behind. She’d be back.

She hoped she wouldn’t be returning alone. Buoyed by that thought and so wildly nervous she could have vomited on the marble steps leading into Rhodes, Ivy winnowed away, hitting the gravel of Spring before her stomach had a chance to catch up. She crunched up towards the estate, heart leaping into her mouth when the High Lord himself walked to the porch. His pine eyes were unreadable, face impassive when he saw her. It was technically forbidden to trespass this way—she should have written head and requested permission. Tamlin would be well within his right to send her home.

His eyes drifted towards the beeswax in her hands, nostrils flaring at the scene. She didn’t have to say a word. Tamlin spoke first. “He’s in the forest.” “Thank you,” she whispered, turning towards the forest at the back of the house. She had to cut through the garden to reach it, catching sight of Aine watching in a pale pink dress on the back terrace. It was Saoirse who drew her in, Finn just beside her. Did they all plan to watch and see what happened? No pressure, then. 

The only person seemingly unaware was Alexander himself. Ivy had hoped he might meet her at the tree line. She inhaled the sweet, floral air, catching the scent of warm pine on the air. She followed it, surprised that she could just follow the bond between them like a rope along the ground. She went in deeper, sandals catching on every stick strewn about the ground. The soft thwack of an axe grew louder until Ivy, nearly tripping over the hem of her dress, found Alexander shirtless in a clearing, splitting an absurd pile of logs. She hesitated, eyes lingering on his taut, rippling muscles as he brought that axe down.

She cleared her throat and Alexander went still when he saw her. “You’re alive,” he said, eyes sliding up and down her body. Ivy was scared suddenly and wondered if her father hadn’t had a point. She’d come all this way for what? To give him a piece of bread and ask him to move in with her? She barely knew him. 

“I uh…thank you,” she finally said, catching how his eyes snagged on the parcel in her hands. He knew why she’d come, then. She could practically taste his relief, more than a little awed at how it flooded her chest. Alexander took a step forward, reaching for the sword he’d tossed beside his shirt on the ground. She didn’t know what to expect when he unsheathed it, only that he probably wasn’t going to stab her.

He knelt at her feet, bowing his head in front of his hilt. “I know you’re worried my male pride will get in the way of your ambition,” he told her, shoulders bunched tightly. “I meant what I said, though you might have been to delirious to hear it. I don’t want any piece of your power…or my own, for that matter. I’ve told father I’m renouncing my claim as High Lord.”

“You shouldn’t do that for me,” Ivy murmured, resisting the urge to touch his hair. 

“It’s for me,” he admitted, finally looking up. “I never wanted it…I was only too much of a coward to admit it. It was a choice I made for myself…I want you. And I’ll wait, if you’re unsure, but you need to know that even if you wait a century, I’ll never claim the Spring Court throne.”

Too handsome, her mind screamed as she stared into his eyes. Take him, he’s yours. She’d been so sick during the first days of the mating bond snap that everything felt brand new and overwhelming. Instinct coursed through her, demanding she reach for him. 

“And what happens the first time someone has a snide thing to say about your status as consort?” she asked, fingers slightly smushing the bread in her hands.

“I trust you can handle yourself,” he replied with a shrug. “And if you can’t, they’ll taste the steel of my blade.”

“Okay, alright,” she grumbled, holding her slice of bread out to him. Alexander looked at the waxy piece of beeswax, unwrapping it with trembling fingers. It was strange to see him so easily undone. He looked as if nothing scared him. She supposed that was a good quality to have if he was going to join her family. He’d need more than a little nerve.

“This is forever,” he told her breathlessly, fingertips brushing the yellow loaf in his hands.

“Good thing, then,” she agreed. “I’m terribly jealous.”

She knew what he wanted to say but Ivy could not make herself say it first. Alexander stood, letting his sword fall to the side. “And you love me.”

“You ripped four iron rings from a wall to save me,” she murmured, pressing a hand to his chest. “It would be hard not to love you.”

The corner of his lips twitched. “And I’d do it again.”

“Eat the bread, Alexander.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He shoved the entire thing in his mouth like a wild bear, his eyes flashing as if to say no take backs.

She took a breath at the feeling in her chest. That thread became gold, solidly tied to her ribs. There would be no breaking it now. She didn’t move when he came closer, his fingers threading through her hair. “I love you too, Ivy.” “This doesn’t mean I’m going to be nicer, you know,” she murmured, heart stuttering in her chest.

“I’d be disappointed if you were.”

*

Of all the things Alexander had done that Lucien Vanserra might kill him for, fucking his daughter on the woodland floor was likely at the very top. Over the past week, he’d imagined every single possibility in which she accepted the bond and he sank into the frenzy. Most of them involved bring her back to his suite while occasionally going to hers. All of them had a bed and someplace soft, someplace quiet. Fucking outdoors was for Calanmai and the common people. It certainly wasn’t for a princess.

It couldn’t be helped. He’d taken all of one step, meaning to grab his shirt when Ivy said, “I’ve never had sex before.”

He froze, the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge. She might as well have begun running the way that predators instinct raged through him. Every inch of him was suddenly on high alert, as if a parade of males were lurking in the forest, thinking of stealing her from him. He knew it wasn’t logical.

Alexander couldn’t help himself. He suddenly understood what everyone meant when they talked about frenzied, irrational males. He turned to look at her, forgetting his shirt and his sword. “What?”

She took a half step backwards, nearly touching a tree truck at the edge of the clearing. “I just thought you should know…”

“Why not?”

Ivy shrugged, stepping back again, her russet eyes wide as he approached. She was so small, her head easily tucked beneath his chin. She didn’t need to be protected and still he wanted to. The fact that she’d waited was almost too much. Day Court was famous for their orgies. He had no illusions she hadn’t participated at least once. 

He reached for her face, thumb caressing the thin, white scar streaking down her golden brown face. “You’re too sweet,” he told her.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she whispered, lips parted. Kissing her would be enough, he told himself. He’d kiss her, he’d get his shirt, and he’d take her inside. His parents would know to vacate his siblings for the evening. He only needed her once to clear his head. “I just thought…I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Good,” he growled, pulling her forward. Every thought flew out the window the moment her lips touched his, arms twined around his neck. She had to stand on tiptoes to reach him, her whole body pressed against the length of his own. Alexander’s eyes practically rolled in the back of his head at the heady, soft sunlit taste of her. He felt starved, needed her like he’d never needed anything in his life. His hands gripped her waist tightly, wanting to see that dress on strewn over the ground. He wanted to see her spread out over the ground, bathed in grass, her back pressed into the dirt.

His tongue swept into her mouth, eliciting the softest little moan from her throat. Alexander’s fraying restraint snapped. He couldn’t help himself. He needed more of her, needed to hear her make that noise over and over. She tasted the way magic felt, her body warm and pliant beneath his hands. He didn’t know who dragged who to the ground though he was aware it was him pulling her into his lap so he could grind her against him. 

Her hands rubbed against his chest, creating near burning friction. Her magic was bad, causing sparks of heat and light to jump over the surface of his skin. He groaned, twisting so she was laid over the ground just as he’d imagined moment before. Leaves immediately tangled in her wine red hair, making her look like some goddess of light, coming to earth specifically to bless him. 

“This wasn’t what I imagined,” he told her desperately, getting the fabric of her dress off around her head. He was careful not to tear, aware he’d have to walk her back to his court or hers. He’d be damned if he let any other male look at her naked body. 

“What did you imagine?” she asked breathlessly, her naked breasts rising and falling rapidly. Her head lolled to the side, breath hitching when he grasped them, fingers massing the peaked, dusky nipples. 

“A bed,” he replied, kissing the length of her neck. “Time to have you in all the ways I want you.”

“Tell me,” she breathed moments before their mouths collided with another messy kiss. Her legs hooked around his waist, dress pushed down to her hips. He was achingly hard and desperate for relief. There were things he needed to do before he could bury himself within her, before he could mark her thoroughly with his scent. He caught one of her legs, sliding his hand up her thighs towards the heat pooling between her legs. Her arousal perfumed the air, driving him half wild. 

He couldn’t tell her anything while he kissed her, even as he slid his fingers towards that heat. She writhed, her body moving on instinct. Her knees fell apart, giving him unparalleled access. 

Ivy might not have sexual experience but she knew exactly how to drive him over the edge. He slid a finger inside her body, his mouth trailing down her body so he could kiss each of those scars, making them his.

She gasped, squeezing tight around him. His eyes practically rolled inside his head at the silky soft feel of her. He was so utterly fucked and he knew it. If he lasted longer than a minute when he got his cock inside her, it would be cause for a parade. He worked in another finger just to see if he could, pressing his forehead between her breasts to gather himself. 

“Is this what you imagined?” she asked him sweetly, as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him. He pumped his fingers in and out, pushing them apart if only to get her used to the stretch. She arched her back for him, his own little private show in that grassy clearing. He withdrew his hands, desperate for a taste. Ivy watched with dark eyes, shaking her head back and forth when he put them in his mouth.

“You’re filthy,” she murmured.

“You have no idea,” he agreed, pulling her back to his lap so she could straddle his chest. “Touch me.”

He slid further down until her cunt was positioned just over his face. She squirmed against him, lifting a leg in an attempt to escape but Alexander held firm.

“Touch my cock, Ivy,” he demanded before licking up the center of her. She gasped again before leaning forward, her fingers clumsily untying the laces of his pants. He was distracted, lapping at her slowly, drinking in the musky taste of her.

Cool air danced over the overheated flesh of his cock. Her sweet, sharp intake of breath pleased him. 

“Stop smiling,” she snapped. “I have nothing to compare it to.”

“And you never will,” he assured her, kissing her thigh. She gripped the base of him, fingers unable to touch and Alexander redoubled his efforts. He wanted her to come on his tongue before he had her, wanted to feel how she might break apart against his lips and his penis. Her hand was unsure for the first few strokes, pumping and gauging with almost academic interest. Alexander curled his tongue inside her body, dragging a loud moan out of her, while prompting her to press her own lips to the beaded moisture at the tip of his cock. 

It was his turn to shudder a groan. “Did you imagine this?” she asked him, gliding the flat of her tongue up his shaft.

“Yes,” he admitted with a ragged breath. 

“I can’t take all this,” she murmured, as if he cared at all.

“You have centuries to practice,” he replied, too pleased when her teeth lightly nipped at his skin. She could take hardly more than the head without gagging, saliva flooding her mouth. Alexander groaned loudly, disturbing a flock of birds roosting overhead. He’d forgotten what he was doing for a moment, head thrown back, eyes closed.

“That’s perfect,” he praised. “You’re perfect.” She didn’t stop though she hummed a whine, the reverberation settling in his balls. She’d make him come with those little noises, with her wet, warm mouth sucking him. He redoubled his efforts by way of distraction, desperate to be fully seated in her, to know nothing but the feel of her body squirming under him, meeting him thrust for desperate thrust. He knew he had her when her mouth stopped working him, her hand falling from his shaft to his stomach to hold herself in place. Her hips ground against his face desperately, voice rising with each new stroke of his tongue. He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking softly just in time for her to come apart, screaming loud enough for everyone at home to hear. The forest went silent for a moment, listening to the pair of them with interest. In Spring, two fae fucking in the woods was hardly cause for concern. It was practically his birthright.

He flipped her over rather than impale her, pushing her knees wide apart while she still came down. He pulled the swollen lips of her pussy open, watching her ride out that orgasm desperately. Alexander took himself in his hand, rubbing his head over the slickness, reveling in the undulations of her aftershock. He gave her no time to adjust at all, sliding the full length of his long, thick cock wholly into her body.

She arched hard off the ground, fingers scrambling for his shoulder. He kissed her, holding himself still despite every nerve begging him to move. Her heartbeat banged against her ribs, the feel of it a flutter against his own bare chest. He kissed her, tongue delving into her mouth so she could taste herself, until she lifted her hips. She was an offering and he was far too weak to resist. That first slide was heaven and hell all mixed together. Nothing had ever felt half as good in his life. He might have died for all he knew.

She exhaled softly, her nails dragging down his back. “This is what I want,” he told her, grunting the words between thrusts. “This is what I imagined.”

“Just like this?” she asked as he pulled himself back. He wanted to watch, fascinated by how accommodating her body was. She squeezed, sucking him deeper, taking everything he had to give. 

“Just like this,” he praised. “You take my cock so well.”

It was the only place she’d ever let him talk to her like this. He’d take it, take all of her and still beg for more. As release began to rise through him, tightening in his sac, Alexander knew there would never be a moment where he’d had enough. His thumb rubbed circles over her clit, dragging her back up with him until she was writhing, her rhythm non-existent as she brought herself to climax. He went with her, the roar of release almost embarrassing if he cared who overheard him. Let the whole fucking world know he’d pleasured is mate and he’d pleasured her well. 

He lowered himself back to the ground, stroking her hair and kissing her. He alternated between the two until the bright flush of her cheeks slipped away and her eyes lost their lusty haze. Only then did he pull himself from her body, revealing in the rush of fluid that escaped her. She was marked now and everyone would know it, would scent it. It was more than the bond between them but the completion of this act—followed by more sex, preferablly until the end of time. 

“I think there’s a rock in my back,” she said, pushing him back so she could sit up. The mere act piqued his interest all over again. She watched him warily, slowly reaching for her dress. He growled.

“One more time,” she whispered, her swollen lips parting ever so slightly. “But then we go home.”

He didn’t agree to that.

They’d be out here all night. 

*

Ivy managed to convince Alexander they ought to go inside for something to drink after twelve hours of nothing but fucking. Her back was dirty and scraped raw, her body somehow both aching and desperate for more of him. The frenzy had her by the throat in a way Ivy had not been prepared for. She’d thought it a mere excuse for a new couple to lock themselves up for a few days and avoid well-wishers. 

By the time they reached Day Court, she felt snappish and moody, frustrated by even strangers who looked over at the Spring Court prince. Her father was waiting, arms crossed over his chest with very obvious disappointment. Had he really expected her to wait a century? She’d been lucky she waited a full week.

Beside him, her mother’s excitement was undiminished. Nothing could disappoint Elain Archeron. At least, not where her family was concerned. She reached for Alexander, pulling him into a hug before immediately stepping back, nose wrinkled.

“Let's try again in a month,” she joked affectionately, her cheeks flushed darkly. Even after nearly three decades as Fae, she had all her human sensibilities. 

“Your room has been moved,” her father told her. “For larger accommodations.”

Far away from his own room was what she knew he hadn’t added. Tamlin, too, had discreetly taken the rest of his family when he saw the two of them approaching, packing up for their water estate and, more practically, avoiding overhearing what they’d surely known was happening in the woods.

Ivy raised her eyebrows, forcing her father to look at Alexander. “Welcome to Day Court,” he grumbled, clearly displeased with this turn of events. Alexander was absurdly kind, bowing with a grace her father absolutely did not reserve.

“I’ll endeavor to make you happy about our marriage,” Alexander informed their father, winking at Ivy’s grinning mother. He slipped an arm around her waist, letting her lead him into the palace with big, wonder-filled eyes. Day Court’s palace was twice as big as Spring Courts and the last time he’d been inside, he’d hardly had any time to appreciate it. 

“Where is Soren?” she asked, well aware her parents were skulking just behind her. There was a pause long and loud enough to make her turn. 

“Your brother is exactly where he wants to be,” her father finally said. That was true enough, she supposed. Soren was obnoxious with Sight in a way their mother never had been. He just knew, and if he didn’t like what he saw, he simply did not go.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, arms over her chest. Her mother stepped forward.

“Vassa asked him to see if he might uncover the gas the humans used on the pair of you,” she said earnestly.

“And we haven’t heard from him since he left.” Ivy frowned. “What are you worried about? Soren isn’t the letter writing type.”

“He took Mei with him and she’s the one no one has heard from. Thesan is concerned.”

“We’ll find them—” Alex began but Elain held up her hand.

“Soren is exactly where he wants to be,” she repeated. “He’ll return in his own time.”

“With Mei?” Ivy demanded, echoing Alexander’s sentiments. “How important is she to Dawn?”

“He won’t return without her,” Lucien said tightly, a reminder that a male wouldn’t abandon his mate. Soren would come back, limping, bruised and utterly unrepentant in a few days with his female in tow or they’d find his body scattered across Prythian. Ivy didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse.

“You’re in no condition to go after him,” her father added. “He’s likely to kill every male in sight which is hardly the promise I made to Vassa.”

Alexander merely shrugged. What did he care about diplomacy anymore? That was her problem. 

“Two days,” Ivy conceded. “Two days and then Aunt Vassa be damned.”

Her parents couldn’t argue, in part because Ivy didn’t give them a chance. She strolled away, sliding her hand in Alexanders as she went.

“Are you really giving him two days?” Alexander asked, guessing her thoughts before she ever had a chance to vocalize it. Ivy looked over her shoulder as she tugged him up a sweeping staircase.

“No. I’ll give him twelve hours while we get ready.”

He grinned. “And if I do kill some unfortunate male that gets a little too close?”

“Do your best not to,” she instructed. “But we did promise those humans a little retribution. Lets give it to them.”

*

Soren:

Soren stared up at the grated top of the pit he was trapped in. He’d seen the fall of course, had known he’d end up down here. He’d even brought rope in his bag to pull himself back out. Sight was a tricky thing—it didn’t show everything as it was. Little pieces, pictures of a larger puzzle, was all he ever got. He gambled on the rest. He’d never once been wrong until today.

Mei sat opposite him in the dirt, her pretty face streaked with mud. He was here because she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She’d have come with or without him. Better to be with him. After all, he had the sword hidden beneath his tunic, strapped at his back. He’d been trained by his uncles from the time he was a boy, knew his way around a sword. He also had the same Day Court magic Ivy boasted of, though hers was stronger, more heavily concentrated in light than the fire coursing through his veins. 

Mei accused him of being a Vanserra. Maybe she was right. At least neither of them were injured beyond a few bruises and still had their magic. He didn’t know if he could carry Mei down a mountain. He certainly didn’t want to find out.

Her eyes found him, narrowing to slits. “Why does it seem like you’re enjoying this?” she demanded. 

Because I am. “Is it so wrong to enjoy your company?” he replied smoothly. 

“At the bottom of a ditch? Yes,” she hissed. Soren shrugged casually. Humans would come checking on their Faerie traps. He needed to end his little game. Standing, Soren stretched long legs before pulling his long, auburn hair off his face with a leather strap. Standing on his tiptoes, he could reach one of the wooden bars preventing them from escaping. Humans were so stupid. They’d used iron on Ivy and Alexander—perhaps they’d learned their lesson though it would have been harder to pull apart an iron grate. He didn’t possess the Spring Courts supernatural strength. He reached for his boot, keeping his sword hidden for now. He didn’t need her knowing he’d come a little too prepared. He pulled out a curved, sharp dagger he’d snatched off Finn during the week the courts had come traipsing about Day Court. Spring had the most fascinating weapons.

Mei frowned, rising to her feet to watch him leap up, gripping one of the slats, dagger held between his teeth. Swinging, his feet scraping the earth, Soren hacked a whole big enough to swing his muscular body through. Bright light shone through the edge of the forest overhead, the same place his sister had been stuck in. He could see the mountain he might be dragged up looming above him. 

He’d fail Aunt Vassa by not figuring out what that gas was. He didn’t care much, wasn’t interested in being used like an experiment. He reached down a hand, thrilling when she touched him. Mate, mate, mate, his blood seemed to chant. He stuffed it down even when the soft scent of cherry and vanilla invaded his senses. He yanked her up, unprepared for how her lithe body would flop on top of his. 

“This is more like it,” he teased, enjoying how her cheeks flushed darkly.

“In your dreams,” she mumbled, scrambling to her feet.

“Too true,” he agreed, surveying their surroundings lazily. He knew they were lost, had known when they came in they’d end up this way. “C’mon,” he told her, gesturing for her to follow. “This way.”

Mei did as he said, trotting after him in her tailored black pants held up with suspenders, muddied from their fall, and her form fitting white shirt, tucked into the waistband. Her left her thick curtain of straight black hair hanging down her back, the tips nearly touching her hips. Soren was mesmerized by the swing of it, how the light caught blue against the glossy strands. 

“I can feel your staring,” she complained, those dark, almond eyes reproachful. Soren shrugged. 

“You’re beautiful,” he told her not for the first time. She dipped her head, clearly embarrassed. Her heard her hand click softly, that golden piece of machinery clenching to a fist. He wanted to know what had happened though he didn’t dare ask. He knew it bothered her, that she expected it to bother him.

Meeting his father had been good, he thought. Some little part of her had softened considerably, though it was an icy thaw. He’d need more than his dad’s missing eye and his sisters near death to make her melt. Preferably into his waiting arms. 

Trees thinned overhead, taking him to rocky shoreline. If he’d walked the other way, he’d have ended up in Spring Court in three days time, likely slamming into his sister and her mate. What he wanted was time.

Mei didn’t know that. She paused at the expanse of ocean ahead of them and the little boat pushed against the rocky coast.

“Are you serious?” she demanded, arms crossed over her chest. Ignoring the way it made her breasts swell beneath the open button of her shirt, Soren only grinned.

“I would never joke about seafaring,” he insisted, one hand pressed against his chest. “Where is your sense of adventure.” “We’re supposed to be doing a job,” she complained, following after him when he began walking towards the boat. It was big enough for two people to navigate, assuming both those people knew what they were doing. He did, of course…but judging from Mei’s wary expression, this was all new territory for her. 

“I know,” he told her, turning and holding her by the shoulders. She twisted for a moment, her eyes darkening. He never tired of seeing her own arousal and how she fought against it. What he needed was a little forced proximity. “Do you want to end up like Ivy? Or worse? Do you want to end up like Alexander, carrying my body down the mountain?”

She looked up behind him, heart shaped face glowing in the sun. She was so beautiful it threatened to sink him. He’d never wanted anyone more. 

“No,” she admitted. “I’ve never seen a human.”

“When we get back we’ll reconvene with Aunt Vassa,” he swore. “She owes my dad a favor, I think. Or maybe it’s the other way around…I can’t be sure.” His mother had told the story of Koschei more than once, for all Soren remembered. “You’ll get your antidote. I swear it.”

“Swear on our bond,” she said softly. She so rarely acknowledged the snapped mating bond between them that Soren, for all his jokes, would have done anything she demanded to hear her say it again.

“As you mate, I can deny you nothing.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I swear it. Now, come on. Do you trust me?”

He held out his hand to help her up, intending to push the ship out to sea himself. She hesitated for only a moment.

“I trust you,” she finally said. He grinned, pulling her close and brushing a kiss over her knuckles. 

“I won’t let you down.”

Soren didn’t need the gift of Sight to make that promise. He’d fail her only over his own dead body. 

Of that, he was sure.

[supervillain-smut]

TES Domestic Headcannons

Ancano Ancano's demeanor doesn't really change in a domestic setting, he's still very uptight, serious and work driven, however he shows much more affection in a private setting. He'll wordlessly pull you into his lap while he's reading a report, or crawl into bed with you with it, lots of kisses to your forehead, shoulders, neck that sort of thing. His temper is also greatly improved, but not enough to leave a child in his care for too long.

Athis Athis is a very messy pup, and you will almost always be cleaning up after him. He shows lots of gratitude over it, though, and is very affectionate and attentive. He'll always do the heavy lifting, despite the fact you could bench-press him and always goes out with you if your business is in the city. He is absolutely going to cause trouble with a pup, should you decide to have one. There's so much flower, and it's everywhere! How?!

Brand-Shei Brand-Shei enjoys being the bread maker, but should you favor your adventuring you'll hear no complaints, so long as you're home within 3 days at least. He is the absolute best at balancing what he wants and what you want; if you want to go explore a cave near Riften, he'll go too but hang back in case you find anything that he can sell. If you're not adventuring than you can always help out at the stall, or take over when he's sick or needs a break. He's so nervous when children are brought up, but should you take the leap, he is the sweetest father, though he does spoil his child.

Cicero Cicero, as I'm sure you're aware, is a rare breed of man. He's always flip-flopping between whether he's capable and wanting to act like a complete child. This doesn't mean he won't spoil you rotten or won't do his end of the chores. Because he will, at the end of the day, you'll just hear him complain the whole time, but it's all playful. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT let him near children. Why? "What do you have there?" "A KNIFE!"

Clavicus Vile Clavicus has no domesticity, he's always in his plane of Oblivion, he's always yelling at Barbas, and he's always... Him. There's small, fleeting moments of affection, but not any more than that. A Daedra is a bad idea for a life partner.

Enthir Enthir is a college student, through and through. His room gets cleaned once a month, by him, since he doesn't want you to touch anything (more like find anything), he wakes up at 12:00pm, and he is always kind of groggy and slightly grumpy. He does find time for you, however, should you wish to be a study buddy, or spend the weekends with him. That's when he shows how much he appreciates you and your tolerating him. Not ready for kids! He's at that point where should a child attach themselves to his leg he will attempt to kick them off.

Erandur Erandur is the softest domestic partner you could ever ask for. Need firewood? He's on it. Groceries? Don't worry about it, he's got it. Want to go adventuring? He'll tag along, just to make sure you're safe. And when it's just the two of you at home, he's smothering you in affection. Says he's too old for children... He is. He acts more like a grandfather, always falling asleep with bab.

Faendal Faendal is a slightly possessive lover, though he'll always listen to you. He loves doing things with you. Hunting, firewood, grocerie shopping, adventuring, you name it, Faendal wants to do it with you. He's very immaculate about the interior of the house, and will almost always get to the chores before you. A very enthusiastic father, constantly tries to teach his child way too young how to use a weapon. "Faendal!" "What? They're 3, they can learn to use a bow, surely!" as said tot falls over  behind him because it's almost double their size.

Farkas Farkas is... He's a slob. He doesn't mean to be, he's just always over at Jorvaskr and doesn't really come home that often, and practically always needs a house maid of sorts; Vilkas is banned from his room because every time he sees how messy it is he practically fumes from the ears. Farkas is, however, probably the most doting lover, especially out of Jorvaskr. He just won't tolerate you venturing too far, at least without him. And should the Silver-Hands threaten again he won't hesitate to go full wolf on their ass. He is the most playful dad ever, though it looks rough, he's being very careful, lots of play fighting and wrestling, picking them up upside down on purpose.

Lucien Lachance Lucien is very distant, always busy with work. You'd have to really be willing to be put second to work, because you're not going to win against it. He's always busy, but he showers you with gifts and affection whenever he gets the chance, always telling you how much he apreciates your patience and devotion, completely spoiling you to help you last until the next time he does it again. Lucien is a very stern dad, but only because he cares. They WILL know how to protect themselves as soon as they're able, until then they go nowhere without mom or dad. Mostly dad, because even though mom is there, now he's worried about the both of you.

Malborn Malborn, depending on whether you were with him before or after the Thalmor Embassy, is either very angry or very frightened and paranoid. He just needs someone he can rely on and gauge whether things or ok or not. He frequently looks to you to ground him to reality, and is very needy in terms of affection and building up. Anything to do with outside is on you, and he strictly prohibits adventuring; what would he ever do without you? Oh gods he's far too nervous for children.

Marcurio Marcurio is a very patient lover, should you go adventuring and be longer than three days without him, he will worry, but he will stay put. When you come home, you're immediately smothered by hugs and kisses all over your face, he will tell you how much he missed you and how happy he is that you're home. He's a very independent man, so you won't have to worry about firewood or grocerie shopping, things like that, and he's a very capable cook. He's a very good dad, would actually prefer to adopt, he worries about the children on the street, and will probably come home with one himself.

Neloth Neloth... Is just the worst. I'm sorry, but it's true. He has zero capacity to think about anyone but himself, and most times if you pursue him for affection or compliments, you get a very grumpy Telvanni. However, does that stop him from coming to bed very late at night to pull you as physically close to him as possible? No, no it does not. He's very quiet and subtle with his affections, and the fact that he calls you his should speak volumes. Good lord no kids, do not. They will be ejected from the tower at the first accident.

Ondolemar Ondolemar surprises everyone with how affectionate and loving he can be, and he has everything under control when it comes to managing the firewood, groceries, hell he's even good with kids should you decide to adopt or have them (though he'd highly prefer if you gave him an heir, he would treat an adopted child no differently). Ondolemar has many things about him hidden away that only you get to see; and no one would believe you if you told them he fell asleep with your toddler in his arms on the couch while reading to them.

Ralis Sedarys Work, work, work. That's all he looks for, so should he actually take up a lover... They're going to be spoiled as hell, they are suddenly everything to him, and he will gladly put down his pickaxe to recieve affection, and will happily put it down again to give you affection, should you be in an ill mood or just seem like you could use it. Loves doing all the heavy lifting just to show off and have you proud of him, and he's even prouder should you challenge him or even show him up. In the end, you end up splitting all the chores in half between the two of you, even adventuring. Far too busy for kids, but he is very good with them! Maybe when he's ready to retire. Or even begins thinking about it.

Revyn Sadri Revyn is a very loving, we can take on the world so long as we have each other kind of lover, and he's very affectionate. He is fairly good with kids, and has zero problem with adopting. He can die a happy mer so long as he has you, a child, and the store. It's everything he's ever wanted in life.

Teldryn Sero Oh boy. He's usually out doing his work more than you, and is ecstatic to go adventuring with you. He enjoys taking care of you and treating you like royalty, so he'll insist on doing everything around the house, and he is fantastic with kids, especially bed time stories, although sometimes you may have to censor him when he gets too detailed. Other than that, he's 100 percent prepared to love, cherish and protect his family, even if it's just the two of you.

Vicente Valtieri Vicente is the last person you'd expect to be any variation of domestic, but you will very frequently catch him in a chair by the hearth reading a book or sorting contracts, and should you two actually have children, he will very quietly sneak into the nursery while babe and you are asleep, and he will cry. Not out of sadness, out of pure joy. You made this, he actually has a family! And Sithis have mercy on anyone who dares threaten it, because he won't.

[gwynrielendgame]

Nyx and Isa part 4

I am feeling very uninspired these days yall. Good news though, I got a job 🥳🥳 woohoo.

"You two can go wander through the gardens now, if you'd like. Violet why don't you go with them? Someone needs to keep them out of trouble."

It was as much a dismissal if Nyx ever heard one. He rolled his eyes, but stood to leave anyways.

"I would actually like to listen in. If I am to be high lady some day, best I hear it all."

Nyx's parents shared a look. Whatever they wanted to discuss with Tamlin and the rest of the family was not information they wanted his daughter to know. Must be something about her.

"Very well. Nyx could you check on your sister, Velaris? I haven't heard from her all week."

Nyx was annoyed that he was being dismissed once again to check on his oldest sister, of all people, even though Isa was allowed to stay. She was much less trustworthy than him. He turned to leave with his younger sister in tow, but a snicker from Isa made him send a quick glare in her direction.

"Yes, run along now. Like the good little prince you are."

The sarcasm might as well have bit his skin. The entire room stopped their small talk to re-assess the situation before them. The last anyone had heard, Nyx and Isa had resolved any conflict from the recent fight they had. Although neither of them had spoken since Isa had revealed what she gave to protect Nyx.

"Stop this, Isa. Petty arguments do not become you."

"Oh look at prince Nyx. Once again taking the moral high ground. Shocker considering who your parents are."

"Did we...miss something?" Lucien interjected, clearly to lighten the mood which had zero effect on the arguing pair. They continued their banter as if Lucien never even spoke.

"You want to talk to me about my parents? What about yours? Your father abused my mother, only to impregnate, who I can only assume by your own standards, is a vile, evil witch."

She sucked in a harsh breathe. She told that to him in confidence and now he was throwing it back in her face. His anger fueled harder than his guilt. Nyx had walked back to the table at this point where he stood, glaring at his friend.

"Once again you stand on some moral high ground. The world is not black and white, Nyx. Your mother would like to convince you otherwise though, no? Must be her savior complex."

Her accent was much heavier with how vehemently she was talking. Feyre decided it was best to intervene.

"Okay, why don't you two separate and cool off. Obviously, emotions are running high."

Once again, the pair ignored anyone else speaking to them.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Isa. I am not the one that sold off my unborn first child, so of course, you do not have many moral qualms." Nyx threw back at her. She rolled her nose up in disgust.

"Would you have rather I let you die?"

"I am glad I am not dead, but what you were willing to give up for me is not something I would be willing to do for you." He crossed his arms. She scoffed.

"Maybe you should have mentioned that before you had sex with me!" She threw a roll from her plate at him. He let it bounce off his head with a roll of his eyes.

"Oof" Violet muttered while glancing anywhere but at the pair sparring off at the dinner table.

"Do not act as if I tricked you into that! I have been crystal clear about us. I am waiting for my mate, which you are not."

"Nyx," his mother tried to interject once again, but Isa stopped her.

"How do you know that? How do you know I am not your mate? The bond is hard to sense before it has snapped into place." Everyone recognized the desperation in her voice. She was pleading with him to love her in the way that she loved him. Unfortunately, it was also clear to everyone that Nyx was rather indifferent towards Isa as a romantic partner.

"Come on Isa! Be realistic. Our parents did not work out for a reason." He tried to reason. He thought they had just been having a bit of fun. Must have meant much more to Isa than she had been admitting to him.

"Perhaps you do share too much with your mother. Your self-righteousness is certainly straight from her handbook." She lashed out. Nyx recognized her feelings were hurt and that was the reason she was saying the nasty things she was. That did not mean it kept him from getting just as angry.

"Well, I am not the only one who takes after my parents. You are exactly like your father." He spit at her.

Nyx was tired of listening to her discuss his parents in such a way. She wanted to play rough? Well then he would play along.

"What is that meant to mean?"

"You are an entitled bitch who does not seem to understand when someone does not love you back. That's what I mean."

She flinched at his harsh words and he automatically wished he could take them back. She retook her seat, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. They both remembered what she accidentally admitted to him and the words he had not said back. He was breathing heavy from his own vehement yelling, but now as he looked around, he felt regret. It felt wrong to air out their grievances among family and friends, especially when he threw so much back in her face.

"Yikes..." Violet unhelpfully broke the awkward silence that had engulfed the room. Nyx noticed at the same time as everyone else that the table was shaking. It started to shake so much that he thought an earthquake was hitting Velaris. It was not until Tamlin spoke up that everyone realized who, instead of what, was making the table shake.

"Calm down, Isa."

She took a slow shakey breath. One lone tear fell down her cheek which she roughly wiped away. Nyx wanted to wrap her in a hug and apologize, but he stuck in his spot as her tattoos began to glow. They often glowed when she was using her witch magic, but never like this. This was bright, almost blinding when her normal glow was a light luminance.

"I am trying." She spoke softly. "I just want it to stop." Her hands went to her head and started clawing at her temples.

Nyx was not sure what she wanted to stop, but one glance around the room told him that this meant trouble. He wanted to help his friend, but no one moved a muscle and his father sent him a look that kept Nyx from speaking. Tamlin's reaction was even worse. He looked scared. Whether that was for his own life or because his daughter was in danger, Nyx would never know.

"Isabelle, stop."

"I can't." The word broke off at the end as she finally opened her eyes. They were glistening with tears and her expression would haunt Nyx until his last days. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Tamlin propelled forward, over the table. He wrapped Violet in an embrace as they fell to the floor.

And then a gust of power broke every piece of glass in the room. Every window, wine glass, and vase shattered. The power from Azriel's siphons reached out at the last minute and protected Nyx and Lucien from the blast of power. Nyx was still thrown into the wall from the sheer force of it. He managed to look over at his parents to see his dad protecting his mom. Tamlin must have known what was going to happen before it did because he reached Violet a second before it happened.

"Knock her out!" Tamlin yelled. "Before her eyes change."

Nyx looked up to see that Isa was still crying, but a swirl of power encircled her. She had sunk to her knees on the floor at this point and she still gripped her head as if it hurt. The power was unlike anything he had ever seen, so he assumed it must be her witch power. He knew he should get up and talk to her, but he did not want to make it worse. He watched as Lucien attempted to physically get to her, but the gust knocked him away. Both his parents tried using their daemati powers. Nyx was afraid of what would happen if that did not work. Tamlin shoved Violet behind a couch before approaching his daughter.

"Isa, you can control it. You have done it before. Focus."

She began shaking her head wildly.

"Get out of my head!" She screeched.

"I can't get in Tamlin. Whatever is happening is too powerful." Nyx wondered who was inside Isa's head if not his parents.

"Use your Night power to knock her out." Tamlin gritted his teeth as he slowly inched his way toward her. It was a physical feat unlike any other because the wind was powerful enough to keep Nyx on the ground.

"I can't. She's disarmed our fae magic."

Nyx tried to conjure his own magic, only to realize his dad was right. He did not think it was possible without the use of faebane. Isa had mentioned being able to temporarily disable fae magic, but she claimed the cost was too high for witches to use it often. He was worried she would end up killing herself before the night was over.

"Isa!" He started. As soon as he spoke, the power surrounding her intensified. "I am sorry. I did not mean it." He took a few tentative steps towards her even after his dad called out a warning. It was difficult due to the wind, but he managed to get close enough that his shouts were heard by her.

"I was lashing out because you hurt my feelings." The power started to ebb as she raised her head from her hands. "You are my friend and I did not mean to hurt you."

She looked at him for a second, her guard dropped, and when she blinked, her eyes opened again, completely black as the finest spun silk in all of the night court.

Fuck is all he could think.

Tamlin used the split second she was distracted by Nyx to make his move. She was in his grasp and being winnowed away before anything else could be said.

"Shit." His mother muttered from her spot on the ground.

"What the hell was that?" Azriel looked to Lucien for answers as he stood from the ground. It appeared everyone had been knocked to the ground from the force of her magic. Lucien wiped away blood from his forehead that kept pouring into his one good eye.

"How many witch, high lord children have you heard of?"

"None." Azriel grimaced. If he had not heard of it before, then it was likely few and far between that held that same heritage.

"Emotion is a highly sought after price by the spirits. Not many witches are willing to trade their emotions for the aid of the spirits. They feed on it which is why the children are so dangerous. They are one tantrum from killing their entire coven. Why do you think their numbers dwindle?"

"She's had how many years to get this under control?" Rhysand quipped back sarcastically only to get a withering look from Lucien.

"No amount of time prepares you for your first heart break. Especially when the cause of that embarrasses you in front of another court by declaring he does not love you back." Lucien gave a pointed look to Nyx with narrowed eyes.

"Not my finest moment." Nyx cringed as he thought back to all he said. Nyx walked back to Violet to help her up from behind the couch.

"The spirits feed on her emotions. She let her guard down, but they cannot take without giving. They gave her too much power to control with her emotions as tumultuous as they were. The more negative the emotion? The more all-consuming and dangerous that power becomes." Lucien explained. Although it hardly made any sense to Nyx.

"How can they feed if she does not call on them? Why do they not feed on our emotions?" Violet asked as she wiped dirt from her dress.

"The tattoos, a price she has paid for a past use of witch magic, acts as a tracking device. Much like you build mind barriers to keep other Daemati out, Isa needs to keep her barriers in place to prevent the spirits from taking freely. The tattoos call to spirits when they glow and the loss of her mind barrier allowed them in without her permission. As for the reason they do not feed on our emotions? Unsure. Isa jokes that regular fae emotions must taste bad." Lucien finally grabbed a napkin to press to the wound above his eye. He muttered an apology to Feyre for ruining it.

"Why did she not kick them out once she realized?" Feyre asked instead of responding to his apology.

"She probably did not realize she was giving her emotions freely to the spirits. They rewarded her with power. Mix in some fae magic, shape shifting abilities, and boom you have an uncontrollable dangerous cocktail in the form of a small female."

"The eyes?" Azriel quietly mentioned with raised brows. His shadows were moving erratically all around him.

"That is not up for discussion along with her mother." Lucien sent Nyx a glare.

"I know it was a low blow." He admitted. He would apology as soon as he was allowed.

"Isa loves her mother very much. You can love a person and despise their actions. Right Feyre?" It was an accusing statement. Everyone could see what Lucien was insinuating. His mother at some point or another loved Tamlin even if she pretended she never had. Feyre only rolled her eyes, but Rhysand sent a glare of his own back to Lucien.

"I should apologize. I do love her." Nyx felt the need to admit to everyone. "Just not in the way that she wants." He threw himself down on the couch. Violet followed his lead and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Not now. The reason witches do not readily offer their emotions is because it leaves them numb. It is a very unpleasant feeling and will be like talking to a wall." Lucien grimaced. Nyx assumed Lucien was thinking of the last time it happened.

"Has this happened before?" Azriel inquired.

"When her mother died. That's it." Lucien shrugged and dropped the napkin.

"I didn't know. I never meant to hurt her." Nyx felt the need to explain himself, but found there were no words to do so.

"If I know Isa, all she wanted to hear was that you care for her in some capacity."

"She knows that." Nyx insisted. He rested his head on top of his sisters. He was suddenly overcome with exhaustion unlike any other.

"Does she? Cause you had me fooled otherwise tonight." Lucien quickly winnowed away after that. A look around the room showed disapproving looks from everyone.

*****

"Thank you for coming." Tamlin shifted awkwardly in his chair. The Night Court inner circle looked on from their respective chairs in what Nyx assumed must be the formal sitting room. His parents, himself, and his sister squished together on one couch. Azriel took an arm chair to the left of Tamlin and the last chair remained unclaimed. Nyx stared at the chair as if he could make her appear simply from his stare.

"How is she?" Rhysand cleared his throat to ask. Tamlin gave a tight smile.

"Fine." He paused, debating whether he should say the next thing. "We lifted the ward on this room. If things should get out of hand today, you may winnow away."

Feyre narrowed her eyes at him.

"I thought you said she had it under control."

Tamlin sighed heavily and slouched in his chair. He rubbed at his temples as if this entire meeting exhausted him.

"You will see that you are in no danger. It is just a precaution."

Azriel went to say something, but stopped and looked towards the door. It was utterly silent. A few minutes later, Isa walked through the door with her head down. She looked...bad. In the kindest way possible because Nyx knew she had been through a lot mentally. It had clearly taken a toll on her physically. She shuffled to the last available seat without making eye contact. When she finally looked up, Nyx's heart lurched. She was pale with dark circles under her eyes. Her cheeks had sunken in from weight loss, leaving her looking like she consisted only of skin and bone. It was jarring considering how solidly built she had been previously. She had always been muscular; now though, he saw no hint of it. Her dress must have been fitted to her recently since it fit her well. It was a light green color similar to her eyes and flowed around her like a wedding dress. She might look beautiful if she did not look so sick. Nyx made eye contact with his sister's wide, shocked eyes. A quiet gasp left his mother's lips. Isa tried a small smile, but Nyx noticed her fingers nervously traced the new tattoos on her other hand.

"I apologize for my little display last week." She started. "I thought I had a better grip on my powers. Obviously not. I have spoken with my coven on the matter and I will be returning home for additional training."

Nyx contemplated whether he should speak or not. Last time they only exchanged spiteful words. He did not want those words to be the last she heard from him. He cleared his throat.

"Does your coven know about the first born debacle?" He felt it was a neutral enough of a statement. Isa replied simply.

"No."

"It is best if that is never discussed aloud." Tamlin interjected.

"How long will you be gone?" Violet asked. They had become friends as well and his sister looked sad at the prospect of her leaving.

"Until I need to claim my position as High Lady." Isa stared at her hands as she spoke. Violet gasped at the information.

"But that could be hundreds of years!"

Nyx frowned. He thought it might take Isa a few months to lose interest in himself and then they could return to just being friends. This seemed extreme, but perhaps they could still visit each other every once in a while. Isa only shrugged. Nyx felt dread at Isa's lack of emotional display. She had been rather devoid of anything else. The effects of the spirits must be taking more of a toll than anyone else assumed.

"That will leave you unprepared for your role as high lady. You do not have many allies or friends," Azriel started what appeared to be an oddly placed reprimand. "You should use all the time you have to form relationships with the other courts and possible emissaries."

"Lucien said he would help me when I first take over."

"That is not enough." Rhysand agreed as him and Tamlin shared a look.

"You will help me, no?" She asked.

"We may not have the time to devote to helping you run your court." Feyre said. Isa's eyes slid past Nyx's and landed on Violet's.

"I could help." His sister offered with a smile that looked so similar to their mother's.

"It would be very much appreciated." Isa tried to give a smile of her own but it only succeeded in showing how miserable this past week has been for her.

"You may want to consider marriage." Azriel felt the need to mention. "You will be at a disadvantage when you return, but a well aligned marriage could work. The prince of the Summer Court is unmarried, but you may find yourself at war with Amren over him. There is a princess of the Summer court that may be interested." His shadows tucked in tight to him.

"I shall consider that. Thank you for the advice, spymaster." No hint of her accent could be heard. Nyx realized she was focusing on disguising the accent in order to focus her attention. Her eyes kept wandering around the room as though she could not keep focus on the current conversation.

Tamlin appeared to nudge Isa subtly. He gave her a stern look before she turned back to look at Feyre.

"I apologize for the things I said about you." She said barely above a whisper. Feyre gave her a soft look which must have urged her to keep going. "Sometimes I feel angry at you because I see a life I could have had. With you as my mom. It is not fair, but it is true." Nyx could see tears in his mother's eyes that she quickly blinked away.

"I understand that sometimes we say things we do not mean. Right, Nyx?" Feyre gave her son a look. She was giving him an opening to say his piece while simultaneously avoiding responding to Isa. He should tell Isa that he did not mean it.

"Isa, I do love you. Just not in the way you are wanting." He tried to make eye contact with her so that she knew he was speaking the truth, but she did not look up from her hands.

"Okay." She gave a simple shrug.

Nyx felt his eyes brows furrowed at that. He was not sure what he expected her reaction to be, but something more than that. It made him feel something he was not ready to admit. And at this point, would never admit.

"Okay?" He asked with raised eyebrows. Isa was still refusing to look up at him, so he look towards his father who kept signaling with his eyes to go and comfort her.

"Yes, I understand I cannot make someone love me." The bland delivery of the words encouraged Nyx to move towards her. He kneeled before her in her chair and grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at him.

"I do love you." He emphasized. He did not want this to get lost in the mess of everything else. Something about that seemed to spark something in her eyes though. The sight of it made Nyx relieved.

"Not in the vay I vant to be loved. Not in the vay I dezerve to be loved." Her accent was extremely heavy and she began to grip his hands back just as strongly as he was holding hers. Tears gathered in her eyes but they did not fall.

"I vill no longer give you more than you dezerve, Nyx." And with that declaration, the last of her fight left her. She softly pulled her hands away and stood up. Her eyes were blank once more.

"I apologize once again for putting your lives at risk. It will not happen again."

And then she was drooping back to her room with slows steps.

"That went...well." Violet offered unhelpfully. "Right?"

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, Chapter 3

Here it is!

Was it only the water of the shower?

Non, his tears were mixing with it. His tears, and his blood. 

Lucien had only slept for a few hours. When he had come back from the gym, he cried himself to sleep, only to wake up on the carpeted floor of his hotel room, his head and hands on the coffee table, next to the letter. 

But now, he was taking a shower. 

He couldn't go to the funeral covered in bruises and dried blood. Non. He even thought that he couldn't go to the funeral at all. But he had to. This was his wife that they were putting underground, and he hadn't seen her in years.

Lucien rocked back and forth under the shower head. His eyes were closed and his arms wrapped around himself. He kept bumping his forehead against the tiled wall, a low drumming that gave him the illusion that time was stopping around him, that he could take that time, without it passing, without losing it. His tears did not stop.

He had talked to Marie, sometimes, on the telephone. Whenever his work took him to the United States, he would always stop at a public telephone booth and call the number he knew by heart. 

Like a teenager on the phone with their secret lover, he would speak low to her, for no one else to hear, even though the booth was closed and no one paid attention to him. He would lazily play with the phone cord around his gloved finger as he murmured words of love and longing to her. 

He would ask how Jérémy was and on the few occasions that it was Jérémy himself who picked the phone, Lucien would freeze, and it would take him a few seconds to clear his throat, collect himself and ask to speak to his mother. 

He had heard his son grow over the phone mostly. His voice went from a little boy's to a man's. The first time that Jérémy picked up the phone with a deeper voice, Lucien's eyebrows had jumped. 

"Who is this?" He had asked.

"It's Jay." The voice with the Boston accent answered. 

Lucien's jaw had dropped. 

"Jérémy?" His lips mumbled. 

"Yeah, funky accent you got there. Who's this?" 

The Frenchman gulped down hard and a trembling hand went to his brow. 

"May I speak with your mother, please?"

"Sure… Ma'! Phone's for ya!" 

"Hello?" The feminine voice was a delight to the spy's ears. 

"Marie?" 

"Oh, hey… Jay? Why don't you go out with your friends?"

Lucien waited for a few seconds. 

"Yeah, Lulu? Hon'? How are you?" 

"Jérémy…" He answered. "His voice…"

"Yeah, he's growin' up. He reminds me of you, in his own little way… Lulu? love, are you here?”

The spy had to look up to swallow back the tears that came to his eyes. His son was becoming a man…!

Last time he held him, the little boy could hardly walk. 

And Lucien remembered how he used to feed him, put him to sleep, play with the little blond baby. Ah, putting him to sleep was what Lucien would remember all his life and beyond. There was something of a deeper connection when the lights were out and baby Jérémy looking up at his then much younger father, with his hair still all black. The father would sing to his son and if at first Jérémy would play and laugh with him, soon, the deep and soothing sound of Lucien’s singing would put him to sleep. 

“I heard you sing to him.”

“Oui.” Lucien would slip in the bed with the woman who stole him off of the million arms of other, non important women. 

“What song is that?”

“A lullaby.”

“Sing it to me.”

“It is not in English, Marie.”

“I know, heard you purr like you do when you sing in French.” She laid her head on his chest and he switched the night lamp off. “So go ahead.”

Lucien looked down at her and smiled.

“Ne m’oublie pas,

[Don’t forget me.]

Je vais devoir m’en aller.

[I have to go.]

Ne m’oublie pas

[Don’t forget me.]

Tu ne dois pas pleurer.

[You must not cry.]

Même quand je suis très loin de toi,

[Even when I am very far from you,]

Tu restes dans mon coeur

[You remain in my heart.]

Je chante en secret chaque soir

[I sing in secret every night]

Pour que tu n’aies plus peur.

[So that you don’t feel scared]

Ne m’oublie pas,

[Don’t forget me,]

C’est à regret que je pars.

[It is with regret that I leave.]

Ne m’oublie pas, 

[Don’t forget me,]

Quand je chante, tu es dans mes bras.”

[When I sing, you are in my arms.]

He sang it again, translating himself and Marie looked up at him with a distraught smile on her lips. 

“We will miss you, hon’.”

“Me too.” He squeezed her tighter and adjusted the blanket on her back to better cover her.

“But we won’t ever forget you.”

Their eyes met and soon, their lips. 

Meanwhile, the old Lucien sighed under the continuous flow of the shower, the white noise of it covered his sniffles. He mechanically stopped the water and stepped out. 

He readied himself. Black suit and tie, black hat too and assorted, varnished shoes. 

He raised his eyes to the mirror and hated the sight. He had nothing against the suit, it did its job, making his cinder hair appear even lighter, the bags under his eyes and his slender cheeks a show of death itself. Non, what he hated was the insult of a man that stared back at him. 

Lucien put his gloves on his still bruised knuckles, to hide the misery he now had to, and made his way out without anything in his stomach. 

The taxi ride was as silent as it had been since he had learnt the news and jumped into the first plane for Boston. He had left Paris hurriedly, taking only what the letter from the American secret services had told him to. 

The flower is withering. Black suit. 

Of course, Lucien had trusted Fred with keeping an eye on Marie and Jérémy. But that telegram had killed him. He had wanted to see her before it was too late but Marie's lungs gave up before the Frenchman set a foot in America. 

"Here we are, Sir. And I'm sorry for your loss."

The driver's voice cut Lucien's train of thought. He paid what he owed, maybe more, God only knew, and he left. He passed the black wrought iron gates of the cemetery and walked resolutely to the group of people that he did not recognise. 

He kept his distance from them all but couldn't help hearing their low chatter. 

"Where's her husband?”

“Who?”

“Jay’s dad. Isn't he gonna come? Even for that?" 

"I don't know… Jay said his father's dead."

Lucien lowered his hatted head and frowned, exhaling from his nostrils angrily. 

"Mary told me it wasn't actually true."

"She lied to him?"

"No, he made this up because he got fed up with people askin' him about his dad." 

Lucien looked away but soon, silence fell. The coffin was brought forth and the priest started speaking.

He spoke at length about the courage of this single mother who raised and provided for those children, how she did a formidable job at it despite an absent and cowardly father. 

If only they knew… 

But where she was going, Mary would still see her boys, her little men. She would still be there for them. 

Such nonsense, Lucien was thinking. 

Mary was gone. She was dead. She wasn't there anymore with anyone. She wasn't there for Jérémy, she wasn't there for him, she was there for no one! 

Lucien thought he'd better get used to the hard truth rather than sugarcoat it with nonsense like that. 

Oh. 

They started lowering the coffin. 

Lucien heard the sniffles, the cries, the muffled tears in Marie's family. He wanted for the whole show to be done with to stay with her, alone. 

It lasted quite a while. As he eavesdropped on the conversations, he learnt that some people were family, some were friends, others, neighbours. 

They all put flowers down, candles, words on a letter that would crumple under the rain. But they eventually left. 

The Frenchman took a few steps forward, coming out of his hiding, and crouched down. 

"Marie…" 

Words failed him. 

"Ma petite fleur."

[My little flower.] 

He sniffled. 

"I beg you to forgive me." He paused. "I wasn't at your side when you most needed it. I failed you." 

Lucien wiped a tear with the back of his gloved hand. 

"I failed you as a husband, and I failed myself as a man. I took vows that I did not uphold."

No, Lulu, hon'... We agreed on this. I knew you had to be far for work and you only wanted to protect us. It's ok, it's alright-

"Non." Lucien answered the voice that he could only hear in his head. "Non, it is not alright. I swore, Marie. I swore that I would take care of you from the moment I said 'I do' in front of that priest and until death do us apart. I…" 

Had he been alone in his lonely room, he would have gone through yet another fit of sobs, of pulling his hair off his own head, of rocking back and forth like a madman. But he was out in the open and most importantly, he was right in front of the tombstone that shall haunt him from now on. 

"Hey! Who the hell're you?! Get the hell out of my Ma's grave!" 

Cold sweat. Lucien tapped a button on his watch and his silhouette vanished in a thin cloud of smoke. 

"Hey! What the-?!" 

The young man stopped, a few feet away from his mother's grave. Unbeknownst to him, his father was standing right in front of him, a hand on his own mouth and tears streaming down his face. 

More than twenty years. More than twenty years had passed and he was now seeing his son. 

Mon Dieu, he had his mother's kind eyes even though they were red with tears and slightly swollen, he had her gentle gaze, Lucien could see it. The blond boy had grown up and his hair had darkened to be dirty blond now. 

He had short hair and seemed uncomfortable in his black suit. Ah, he surely wasn't used to wearing one.

"Jay, you comin'?"

"Yeah, Auntie…" 

“Hurry up or I’ll send your brothers!”

Unbeknownst to him, Jérémy was squinting and staring through his very invisible father. He left soon after but Lucien remained, petrified. 

That was… Jérémy? 

The baby he had held in his arms all those years ago was now a man nearly as tall as him.

He stared at him as he made his way out, following the crowd, his family that surely somehow was Lucien's too. But he had never met them, never talked to them. He knew the names or the existence of a few of them, when Marie would tell him about them. 

But both had wanted to keep their private lives very much private. Marie knew her family would never approve of her marrying a stranger. Lucien was the only man to ever treat her as a woman, he knew that, she had told him that. He made her feel taken care of in his hands, even if he was absent most of the time. It was the respect he treated her with that made her cling to him at all costs, he knew it.

When he told her about his job and what he had to do sometimes, she had nodded. 

“Do you understand, Marie? I… I cannot be the family man that I should be. My job requires me to… to do unthinkable things that no one else can and… Sometimes, if you knew what I do, you would… You would doubt my feelings for you.”

“No.”

“Pardon?” He had asked in his mother tongue.

“No, Lulu. I know that you love me sincerely. And I love you the same way. I don’t care what your job is. I… I know you love it too and…”

“Marie, I am sorry.”

“No, let me finish.”

He was holding her in his arms, in their bed that morning.

“I had Fred talk to me.”

“Merde…” Lucien mumbled to himself.

[Shit.]

“He explained to me that you were a… a war hero…?”

He sighed, frowned and looked away.

“Is that true?” She insisted and he shook his head.

“Non. I just did what had to be done and what no one else could. It could have been anyone else. I just happened to be there at those times and places where my skills came in handy, nothing more.”

“Pff…” He looked at her and she was smiling. “Fred also said you’d say that. You’re a war hero and certainly, you’re my hero.” She leaned her head on his chest again and left a prude kiss.

“I know this is selfish of me but…”

“But what?” She raised her head to him and he held her hand in his.

“But I wish I could keep you forever, just for myself.” He closed his eyes but soon, he felt her shift on the bed. She lay down and pulled him to lay his head on her chest. 

“You say it as if it’s impossible.” She answered.

“I told you. I am away most of the time and this mission is coming to an end soon. I will have to leave.”

“What if we get married?”

Lucien’s eyes couldn’t have snapped wider.

But today, he could hardly keep them open. 

“Petite fleur…” He addressed the tombstone, as if Marie could still hear him. “Je suis désolé, mon amour.”

[Little flower… I am sorry, my love.]

Later that day, when he was alone in his room, drinking again, Lucien heard a knock on his door.

 “Go to hell.”

“L, it’s me.”

Lucien sighed. He recognised that voice. He stood up from the carpet and opened the door. 

“L? Hi…”

Lucien returned to sit on the sofa, the bottle of whiskey hadn’t left his hand. 

“What do you want?”

“Just to offer my condolences.” Fred closed the door and came to sit next to his French friend, who took a gulp of the bottle straight. He was still wearing his black attire, although the collar of the shirt was open and the buttons were undone. Seeing his old time colleague so disheveled made Fred frown. "I've never seen you like this before, pal… I thought you were the kind of sailor to have one woman in every harbour…"

Lucien raised dangerously piercing eyes to him. He did not like Fred's comment.

"Sorry. Didn't mean it to sound bad or anythin'. Is there anythin’ I can do?”

“Help me quit.”

“Yeah, you should quit your drinkin’, pal.”

“I did not mean it for the drinking.”

Fred’s eyebrows jumped. 

“You wanna quit your job?”

Lucien nodded.

“It killed one too many.” He took a generous gulp of the whiskey that now dripped at the corner of his lips. He wiped the mess with the back of his forearm.

“L, you know you can’t just quit. Besides, I was comin’ to talk to you about it.”

Finally, Lucien raised his eyes to his colleague. 

“We got some work to do. Well, you have.” The American got a cigarette pack out of his jacket and offered one to Lucien who winced and shook his head. Instead, the Frenchman went to grab his own cigarette case and let Fred light one for him. “Ah, yeah, you like yours French, eh…”

They puffed on their cigarettes and Fred looked around them. 

“Mind if I get myself a glass?”

Lucien motioned him to go ahead. The American went to the mini bar. 

“They knew up there that you’d like to retire after this. And if you don't mind me sayin', you and I aren't gettin' any younger. So they’ve sent me to suggest somethin’.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow and watched his friend grab a glass and pour some wine. He squinted to see the label and rolled his eyes, force of habit. As much as Lucien appreciated Fred, his taste in wine left a great deal to be desired…

“They say that you should get someone to work with you.”

“Non.”

“Hold on, let me finish…” The American spy joined his French colleague on the sofa again. “They say you should train a young one to replace you.”

Lucien’s eyebrows twitched. 

“Not that they’d manage to fit those big shoes of yours but, y’know, someone to replace you while you go and retire. What would you do? Go back to France, I guess?" 

The Frenchman sucked on his cigarette harder as he frowned. 

"Non."

"I knew you wouldn't like it so I told them. They're ok to give you an alternative." 

Lucien shook the cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table and Fred noticed the bruises on his hands. 

"You could drop field work completely and train the young ones."

"Pff…" Lucien exhaled the smoke from his cigarette in a long gust. "And where is the choice? Either train one or train them all? Is that the choice that the country that I have lost everything for is giving me now, hm?" 

Fred could see his friend's fingers shake. He was mad and barely holding himself back. His chest betrayed his fast and short breathing. 

"Seems so. If that's any consolation, I'm trainin' one of them kids too. He isn't bright, hasn't learnt the job like you and I, but he works hard." Fred tapped his cigarette in the ashtray and lay back on the sofa. "They're givin' you a few days to think."

"I should go and kill them." The Frenchman said calmly. "One by one. Start with their loved ones and as they wonder what kind of curse had fallen on them, I would deal with them all."

"You can't get to your Minister of Defense…!" Fred scoffed but the gaze that Lucien gave him made him stop his chuckle sharp. "L…?"

"I could." 

"But you won't… Right?" 

The Frenchman stood up and went to the door that he opened and held wide. 

"Good night to you, Fred." 

"L…?"

"I said, good night."

Fred sighed. He walked to the door but didn’t leave yet. He turned to his French colleague and looked him in the eye.

“Don’t do anythin’ you’ll regret, eh?”

Lucien exhaled a bitter sigh of smoke.

“See ya.” Fred left and the Frenchman shut the door. 

He came back to his solitude.

[tartagilicious]

Hellooo- May I ask for a headcannon with the MLQC boys confronting dark MC perhaps? I just had the idea while taking a walk and think it’s an interesting ideas, do whatever you want! Have a lovely day! 💫

absolutely!! I kind of took this in a ‘here’s how they would react to her and why are they’re so mad at her’ direction,, so I hope it fits what you wanted okay!! while this does contain minor spoilers for when the boys reunite with the mc, I’m exempting shaw from this because of spoilers related to the main story. 

Lucien:

- im sorry I just love angsty lucien 

- he has very obviously expressed how he feels about the dark MC, and I’m 10000% positive that if he ever got the chance, he would kill her without hesitation

- hey, he only holds back because she’s connected to the mc. he couldn’t ever harm the woman he loves, and the dark mc mocks him for that. in her eyes, he’s pitiful for caring for her other self. 

- the dark mc is quite literally the root of all their problems, not to mention the reason that the mc was taken away from him in the first place. the mc’s disappearance put him in a state of shock and it’s very easy to see why this made him spiral, especially looking at this from the angle of what’s considered normal for him. 

- he was put in a spot where he fell in love with someone he was only supposed to be using, and even though he had stated the danger of staying with him many times, she had never stopped trusting him or believing in him. but then, the source of his colour and the woman he’s in love with was suddenly gone.  

- to say it all broke him would be an understatement, and knowing that everything that happened to him afterwards was a direct result of the dark mc, he knew exactly who to direct his frustrations at. 

- so yeah. he’d definitely have a bone to pick with her. and I doubt he’d be too reluctant to do so. 

- he’d talk to her calmly enough, but his tone would be cold, and his expression would have more of the anger/impatience that you would expect. 

Victor:

- yet again, I have no doubt that he would hesitate to kill her if given the chance

- when he was forced to ‘kill’ the mc, the aftermath was hell. he spent every day wondering if you were out there somewhere, whether you were actually alive as you’d promised you’d be or if things had failed and you really were dead.

- he wanted to trust you then when you said that you would live and come back to him, but he just didn’t know. it brought on unhealthy anxiety and crippling guilt knowing that if you were in a bad spot, it was him who sent you there.

- that’s why he’s so immensely surprised and happy when he meets you again, safe and sound apart from how you shiver due to the temperature at sea

- but regardless, it’s her fault that you had to go through what you did, and he’ll never forget that. 

- Victor shows little emotion in the dark mc’s presence because unlike lucien, who is well-trained in hiding his emotions yet had no desire to hide his bloodlust, his hostility is not so open. 

- the dark mc knows full well that he has reason to hate her, but is stifled by the way he talks to her as if nothing is wrong. the only things that suggests otherwise is his icy business tone and how he occasionally can be seen balling his fists at his sides

Gavin:

- he would have none of it, but I doubt he would kill her. It would probably bring him more satisfaction to put her behind bars, honestly — somewhere that she could never hurt you again

- I have no idea what the hell gavin was doing when the mc disappeared (probably working at NW or having some fun with his dad?), but I can assume that when he found out that the mc had gone missing, it broke him

- he had left you to protect you — to save you from your life-threatening injury, only to come back to you gone, and he was beyond pissed at whoever had taken you away. but the fact that he didn’t know anything pissed him off even more

- angry gavin is a rare sight, and it’s a scary one quite honestly. 

- not knowing what had happened to you made him not moody, but restless. he had every resource at his disposal working to find you, though he was never successful. maybe that’s why he volunteered to infiltrate an evol experimenting institute. we probably won’t ever know unless it’s released somewhere like rumour and secrets. maybe with his chapter 25-28 ssr?

- but yeah anyway

- you literally appeared out of nowhere, so I can’t imagine that the healing was immediate either. But thankfully, the moment you explained what had happened to you, he finally had someone to direct his anger onto.

- he would adopt his businessesque STF/NW expression when meeting with the dark mc (maybe for the first time? have they met?) and wouldn’t do anything irrational. he’d been planning this in his head ever since he could put a name to the person behind this mess.

- But, he’s still driven by emotions. 

- She monopolises on the fact that she can get under his skin without doing much at all, especially when taking her teasing and mocking personality into account

Kiro/Helios:

- has met the dark mc more, if not the most, than all the other guys. having both identities at his disposal, he gets around — not to mention his dealings with Black Swan, he’s just a generally all over the place kind of guy

- so of course, he’s run into her on more than one occasion. black swan headquarters, yishui street, etc

- your disappearance didn’t affect him directly for a while. he had heard that you were missing, but that took so long to register that he didn’t realise the weight of everything until he was standing in your dark and very much empty apartment (spare keys as kiro ^^)

- he thought that it was his fault immediately, even when he was aware of why you were missing and that it being his fault obviously doesn’t make much sense. he should’ve been there for you, if only you knew that he was helios, etc. the guy blamed himself hard.

- he makes himself believe that he could have saved you if things were different. if he wasn’t so afraid of being the person he wanted to be, then just maybe, you would still be standing next to him. 

- so it’s regrettable that when he comes back, he has to best around the bush with you. he can’t even hug you after not seeing you for six months because of a mission, smh

- if he ever met the dark mc again, I have no doubt helios would come into play no matter what he happens to look like at the moment. he has no sympathy for her whatsoever, and will never show her any emotion besides boredom or hostility. 

- snapping and sarcastic helios ✨

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Painted Souls 9

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: Can being in a hospital be one? Besides that, we’ve gone back to the tame territory. 

Author’s Note: Soooo this one came out just as quickly as the last part. And Look at that, a Series update in two days! But with this one, we are coming to an end. There is only one more part to this. I hope you guys enjoy this one and look forward to the next. ♥

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

From the moment the ambulance arrived, Elijah never left Y/N’s side. The part of him that was a lawyer knew he should stay behind and give Elena support as she gave the details to the police who had come to investigate. But the part of him that was a soulmate had flared up and wanted nothing more than to be by Y/N’s side to comfort and protect her.

Seeing Y/N in a hospital bed had been the complete opposite of what he believed would happen tonight. He wanted to take her to the cabin, give themselves a chance to wind down, before he gave her a reason to worry. As Elijah sat right next to her bed, he realized that he was too late in warning her.

His head had been resting on his interlaced hands as he sat in the chair next to the hospital bed. His mind raced with things he realized he didn’t know. Things he wished he had. For one, Elijah didn’t know who to call for her. Caroline and Elena had been outside in the waiting room for her already, but when it came to her family, he wasn’t sure what to do.

He knew her father years ago, but he didn’t know him personally enough to just go into Y/N’s phone and call him up. Y/N never mentioned her mother often and it led him to believe her mother was no longer in the picture. But the truth of it all, Elijah had barely known Y/N and it made him frustrated.

The knock on the room door caused Elijah to look up. Elena had been standing there, her eyes landing on Y/N who was still unconscious after the drugs had taken over her system. Elena bit down her lip before looking over at Elijah.

“I called her dad.” She said with a slight nod. “I figured him of all people should know his daughter was in the hospital.”

Elijah nodded his head. “Thank you. I was debating on calling him myself, but then I realized I’m not sure how well that would have gone over.”

“They don’t talk much anymore.” Elena noted as she walked further into the room. “He didn’t even know about her showing.” She shook her head. “Thank you for jumping into action last night. While I know what to do, you did a hell of a lot better at staying calm than I did.”

Elijah huffed. “Maybe, calm on the outside, but on the inside there was a wide range of emotions I was feeling.”

“I don’t blame you.” Elena nodded. “She’s your soulmate. I’m sure Damon would have felt the same if it had been me. You were there for her. And that is what matters most.”

Before Elijah could say anything in return, Y/N had gasped as she sat up straight in the bed. A panicked look played on her face as Elijah moved out of his seat and over to her side. He sat down on the bed beside her, taking her hands in his.

“Easy, Y/N.” He said softly. He didn’t want his voice to be overpowering to her. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” He promised.

Y/N’s eyes searched Elijah’s face for a moment before she relaxed. The monitors she was attached to gave way that her heart beat was returning to normal. Her panicked breaths slowed as she looked around the room. Her mouth was dry as she tried to open her mouth to speak causing her mouth to close and a frown to form on her face.

Elijah shook his head slightly as he looked at Elena. “There’s a cup and pitcher, could you please pour her a glass.” Elijah hadn’t even finished speaking before Elena moved quickly doing as Elijah had asked. As she did, he looked back at Y/N, lifting his hand, he ran it along her cheek. “You’re in the hospital.”

Y/N huffed as she leaned into his touch. “Obviously.” Her voice was rough.

That caused a small smirk to pull at Elijah’s lips. As least, she was still herself even after waking up in an unfamiliar place. Elena walked over and held out the cup for Elijah to take. Instead, Y/N reached for it.

They both watched as she shakily brought the cup up to her lips and took a drink. The cold water felt like a haven to her at that moment. With how dry her mouth had been, she was thankful for the water.

“I’ll go let the doctor know she’s up.” Elena said giving Y/N a small smile and leaving the room.

“Thank you.” Elijah said as he looked over his shoulder at Elena before looking back at Y/N.

Once the cup was empty, she brought it down into her lap, prompting Elijah to take it from her. “What happened last night?” She asked looking up at him.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Elijah wanted to know what she knew. That way he could fill in what he could for her.

Y/N bit down at her lip as she thought about. “Dancing with Elena.” She said with a nod. “I was just about to call you over to dance when I felt something poke me.” She stopped as she tried to think of what happened after. “I felt sick, but I don’t remember anything after that.”

Elijah sighed as he leaned back slightly. “You were drugged. A quick application through a syringe. Elena said it probably happened when you were bumped into on the dance floor. By the time you made it a few steps, the drug was already taking affect. If Elena hadn’t been with you, I don’t know what would have happened.”

Y/N looked down at her hands at his words. Fear had coursed through her about what could have possibly happened. But before she could completely freak out, her eyes landed on the back of her hand.

Elena’s smudge writing had been on the back of it. It matched on Elijah’s as it held the cup in it. If Elena hadn’t been with you, I don’t know what would have happened. Elijah’s words played through her mind even though he had just said them moments before. Elena was the reason she wasn’t currently elsewhere.

That was when her mind clicked with something else. Looking up at Elijah, she shook her head slightly. “Your case. This is what you wanted to talk about.” Her eyes filled with tears as she realized what could have happened.

Before she had left the cabin with Elijah after their date, she remembered seeing the news article about the Soulmate Killer being caught. While Elijah gave very little information on the case, he told her that he was dealing with the man who had been caught.

“He’s innocent.” Elijah said with a nod as he brought his hand back up to her cheek to catch the tears that had begun falling. “We were already asking for video footage from the night the victim had been taken. We were able to pull some strings to get last night’s.”

“Were you able to see them?” She asked, hopeful. If they had been caught on camera, it would make her feel more relaxed.

Elijah nodded, even though his jaw clenched as he had. “We watched as it happened, but there is no clear shot of his face in any frame. Even with Lucien’s case. He was seen the same time the victim had been injected.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Elijah’s phone went off. He shook his head, hating the device in his pocket. It had been ringing all morning, and he wanted nothing more than to toss it out a window.

“You should get it.” Y/N said, encouraging him to take the call.

Sighing, he nodded, he finally answered the phone. “What is it, Finn?” Y/N laid back in the bed as she watched as he listened to what his brother had been saying. “She’s okay. They’re flushing her system of the drugs, but she’ll be okay.” It was the frown on his face that made Y/N raise her brow. “It can be put off until later.”

“If you need to go, you should go.” Y/N whispered catching his attention.

Elijah shook his head at her words and took a hold of her hand. “Have Freya handle it, at least until I get there.” He hung up the phone a moment later.

“Sounds like they need you.” She said giving him a smile.

“Yeah,” He lifted her hand and gently kissed it, right on top of Elena’s smudged message. “What happened last night gives the case everything we need to prove Lucien’s innocence. While they know I’d rather be here with you, it seems that other people require my prescence.”

“You should go.” Y/N said as she watched him. “I doubt I’m going to be let out of here any time soon. Since I was drugged, I’m pretty sure I’ll be confined to this bed until at least tomorrow.”

“That she will be.” Y/N’s doctor said as she walked in, giving Y/N a small smile. “That was a heavy dose they gave you.” She looked over at Elijah. “Mr. Mikaelson, I know that this will be a difficult time to leave your soulmate, but I’m going to need some time with my patient.”

Y/N chuckled. “See, gives you a reason to go take care of what you need to. I’ll be here when you come back.”

Elijah smiled at that. “I shouldn’t be too long.” He promised as he stood from the bed. “If you need anything, please do not hesitate to call or even take ink to skin.” He wanted her to know that even if he wasn’t there, he’d stop what he was doing to come back to her.

“I’ll be okay.” She said with a nod. Satisfied for now, Elijah nodded and leaned in to kiss her softly on her forehead. It caused Y/N to smile. “Go, before the doctor kicks you out and you can’t come back.”

That got a chuckle out of both Elijah and the Doctor. Elijah left moments after that. Though the whole time he walked out of her room and out of the hospital, he hated to do it.

_____

“How is she?” Freya asked the moment Elijah stepped into the conference room.

“Given the circumstances, she’s okay.” He said with a small smile pulling at his lips. “I can tell she’s a bit shaken up from it, but knowing she wasn’t taken was a relief for both of us.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like for you.” Finn said as he looked towards his brother.

His siblings were shocked to find out what happened from Klaus. While Elijah had tended to Y/N, Klaus kept his siblings in the loop. For the siblings that had soulmates, they had spent the night keeping their loved one close, not letting them out of their sights. To have something happen with work was one thing, for it to hit so close to home had them all on edge.

“For a moment I believe I felt every emotion and more in those moments.” Elijah explained as he placed all of his things down on the table in its usual place. “There was even a moment were guilt had filled me while seeing her in that hospital bed.” He looked over at his siblings. “She wouldn’t have been in this situation if we had not gone there last night. We had all the warnings and I did not give them.”

“Don’t do that to yourself.” Freya said as she walked over to him. “We were under the impression, the murder was caught. While Lucien’s alibi still hung in the balance, you had no reason to believe anything would happen last night. Y/N is safe, she was never left alone. You did everything right in that situation.”

Elijah ran his hands along his face. “In my mind all I can see is Elena’s message and getting there and finding Y/N in the state she was.” he shook his head. He hadn’t once let out his emotions to anyone. Y/N needed him more than finding an outlet, and he was willing to do that until the time was right. “It makes me want to call in every favor we have just to get this son of a bitch in.”

Finn walked over to him and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “That’s what this meeting we’re about to go into is for. Freya called Mikael and he pulled some strings.” The words caused both Elijah and Finn to look over at Freya who had a worried look on her face. “DA dropped the charges against Lucien the moment she saw the footage.”

“This is no longer a case we’re on.” Freya said with a nod. “Which means we’ve went from layers to being family of another victim.”

Elijah understood what that meant. After the debriefing meeting, Elijah would be free to be by Y/N’s side until his next case. His siblings and as surprising it was to all of them, his own father knew the importance of keeping their soulmates safe. And Elijah wasn’t about to let his out of his sight until the murder was caught.

_____

As Elijah entered the room, he tried to stay as quiet as possible. The meeting went longer than he thought it would, causing him to return to the hospital right before visiting hours were over. After security made sure he was clear to stay with Y/N, he went as quickly as he could up to the room.

Upon entering her found Elena curled up in the uncomfortable chair he had been sitting in earlier that day. As he looked over at Y/N, he found her sound asleep. While she looked comfortable to an extent, he didn’t think any of the tubes around her were making her comfortable.

Walking over to Elena, he placed his hand on her shoulder to wake her. The moment Elena startled away, he held back a chuckle. “Your shift’s over.”

Elena relaxed at seeing Elijah and nodded. “Want the evening report?” She asked before a yawn took over.

He shook his head. “I think I’ve got an idea of it. Go home, get some sleep that’s not in a metal chair.”

“Oh I plan on it.” She said with a nod. “I don’t know how you’ll be able to sleep in that thing.”

Elijah chuckled. “I’ll manage.”

Elena grabbed her things and once she collected them, she looked over at Y/N before looking back over at Elijah. “She’s worried, you know.” That caught Elijah’s attention as he sat down in the chair Elena just got up from. “She wont say it out loud, but if you watch her, she’s scared. I had to stop her from going down a rabbit hole on the internet. Some of the things she found on there, it wasn’t good for her.”

Elijah nodded in understanding. He hadn’t been expecting Y/N to walk away from this unscathed. He knew there would be something that lingered with her. “It’s why we’ll be staying at the cabin until her showing.”

Elena nodded in return. “Damon’s driving out and will be here in the morning. Caroline is staying with your brother. And after last night, I’m a bit freaked out, so I’ll be staying with family that’s out here until Damon gets here.”

“We are all on edge. If you hadn’t been staying with family, I’d call one of my sisters and have them leave the door unlocked for you. They’re both a short ride from here.”

“Thanks.” Elena said with small smile. “Have her call me when she gets discharged tomorrow.”

“I will.” Elijah watched as Elena walked out of the room, the door closing softly behind her.

He turned his attention to Y/N and a sigh passed his lips. Standing, he moved the chair closer to the bed before sitting down once more. He leaned with his elbows on the bed and reached for her hand closest to him.

As he did, he found the same words he been surprised with while in his meeting written in the palm of her hand. It was a way for them to communicate without reaching for their phones.

Stop worrying, I’m doing okay.

While the words had been comforting at the time he happened upon them, he wasn’t sure if those words still applied for her. After what Elena had told him, he was even more worried about her. She may have been okay now, but there would be moments where she might not be.

The slight movement of Elijah’s thumb moving over her skin caused Y/N to stir slightly. A small smile pulled at Elijah’s lips as he watched her eyes open. A sleepy smile came from Y/N as she tightened her hold on Elijah’s hand.

“That was one hell of a meeting.” She mumbled.

He chuckled. “I must have tried leaving several times. I wanted nothing more than to come back to your side.”

“Will you be able to stay?” She asked.

He nodded. “All night. Preferably until they’ve been caught.”

A frown pulled at her lips. “I’m not staying in a hospital until then.”

He shook his head with a smile on his face. “No, I meant I’ll stay with you until they’ve been caught. If you’d like, we can stay over at the Cabin. I’ve just had my schedule cleared.”

Her eyebrow raised. “They took you off the case?”

He shook his head. “The case had been dismissed. My siblings offered to take the work load off my plate. If I remember my brother’s words correctly, he said ‘One shouldn’t be away from their soulmate in their time of need.’” He lifted their hands, and he kissed the back of hers. “I dont want to overstep boundaries, but I don’t know if I’d be able to just let you go back to your dorm without any kind of protection.”

She huffed a chuckle. “Believe it or not, having you by my side feels like the safest place to be at the moment. If you hadn’t asked, I probably would have asked.” She gave him a smile.

“And here I was, worrying that you’d say no.” He said with a grin pulling at his lips.

“I don’t think I could be alone after this.” She shook her head. “At least not for a while.”

He brought his free hand up and ran it along her cheek. “I give you my word you won’t ever be alone.”

The comfort of Elijah’s words were all Y/N needed. While her world had almost changed in a way she wasn’t sure she’d come back from, the comfort of knowing that he’d be there to help her made the dark thoughts go away. While they hadn’t known each other this time around for long, they both felt at peace with the other right there next to them. And that was how Y/N knew she would be able to move on from this.

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[swifteforeverandalways]

Invisible String Chapter Three: So It Begins

Chapter Three: So It Begins

Notes: Here is Chapter Three! It’s a bit of a flashback chapter!

Tag Squad: @lilmissriottbliss​

Wanda sighed as she settled into the chair next to Billy’s bed. She stared down at her son, worry settling in his stomach. Billy needed to be okay, he had to come back to her. To their family. She could still remember how the entire nightmare started, as Tommy had told her. 

The Young Avengers were sneaking through a HYDRA warehouse, Dylan and Lucian with them since the New Avengers had the day off. Dylan had his Smith and Wesson M&P in his hands, a Glock 17 strapped to his thigh. He was the only one to really use a gun, even though James, Kitana, Billy, Tommy, and Francis all knew how to use them. 

“It’s nice to have you one this mission with us,” Kitana whispered, nudging her brother playfully. Dylan smiled at his sister. 

“Someone has to protect you, aside from your dragon-boy,” He teased. Kitana rolled her eyes at him before her expression turned serious and she whipped out her fan, throwing it over Dylan’s head and embedding it into a HYDRA agent’s head. The doors burst open and more HYDRA agents rushed in. 

“Fuck. Shit,” James swore as he tapped his bracelet, the holographic shield popping out. While the rest of the team ducked behind crates, James blocked the attacks with his shield before throwing it at the HYDRA agents. As more and more HYDRA agents rushed in, the Young Avengers began to realize they were outnumbered. 

“Shit,” James swore under his breath as he caught his shield, holding it up to cover him. 

“James! What do we do!” Kate Bishop yelled to the leader of the Young Avengers as she notched an arrow, letting it fly at a HYDRA agent. 

“Tommy, find us a way out,” James commanded quickly. Tommy nodded and took off in a green blur. Half a minute later, he returned. 

“Found an escape, and it’s close,” he reported. James nodded, “Take either Kate or Dylan first, your choice.”

“Why us?!” Dylan and Kate complained at the same time.

“You two are the only humans. You get safe first,” James said. 

“Take Kate, I’m staying here,” Dylan said. 

“Hell no, take Dylan first. His mom is a SHIELD agent!” Kate exclaimed. 

“Mama would want me to stay and protect my sister,” Dylan retorted, to which Kitana rolled her eyes. Tommy looked over the two arguing before running to Kate and lifting her up. 

“Sorry Kate, but I’m with Dylan. He’s going to protect his sister like I would protect Billy,” he replied. Before Kate could reply, Tommy was off. James turned back to the HYDRA agents as a door opened….Tommy returned to the warehouse only a few short moments later to find the rest of the Young Avengers completely unconscious. 

“No,” Tommy whispered, falling to his knees in disbelief. How could this have happened so quickly? He was only gone for less than five minutes. With shaking hands, Tommy tapped his earpiece. 

“Tommy? What’s wrong?” Steve Rogers asked. 

“I….I need an extraction. The others, they’re out. I don’t know what happened. James told me to take Kate out and I did, when I returned they were out,” Tommy said in a shaky voice. Steve let out a heavy sigh on the other end of the communicator. 

“Who all is out?” He finally asked. Tommy swallowed hard. 

“Everyone except me and Kate. I got her out, returned to find everyone unconscious,” he whispered. 

“We’ll be there in ten,” Steve said before the line discontinued. Tommy felt tears sting his eyes and he shut them tightly, letting out a shaky breath. 

“Mom?” Wanda looked up as Tommy walked in, sitting next to her. 

“Yes Tommy?” She said calmly. Tommy looked at his mom, his expression guilty. 

“Do you blame me? For what happened to Billy?” He asked. Wanda sighed heavily but shook her head, wrapping an arm around her son. 

“No, môj syn (my son). I’m not. Veľmi ťa milujem (i love you so much). This is not your fault,” she said, slipping into her native Sokovian for a few words. Tommy sniffled hugging his mom hard as Agent Bobbi Morse walked in, sitting next to her children. 

“Agent Morse?” Tommy said in a small voice. Bobbi looked up, her expression softening. 

“Tommy, you know you don’t have to call me Agent Morse. You can always just call me Bobbi,” she said softly, one hand going to run through Kitana’s dark hair. 

“I could’ve saved Dylan. James told me to take either him or Kate and I chose Kate. Dylan said he wanted to stay to protect Kitana and I let him. I should’ve taken him instead,” Tommy blurted. A sharp expression flitted across Bobbi’s expression for a moment before she shook her head. 

“No, Tommy. It’s okay. I know my son, he would’ve fought you tooth and nail to keep to protect his sister. And Lucien. Besides, wherever they are right now, they have each other,” she said. Tommy nodded, looking over at Dylan. 

“Is there any update?” Wanda asked, “Anything SHIELD has found?”

“Not yet ,” Bobbi sighed, “Not a single fucking thing yet.” Wanda shook her head as Jade Okaia walked in, her parents with her. 

“Hey Jade,” Wanda said as Bobbi shot her wife a small smile. 

“What’s up, babe?” Bobbi murmured as Jade settled next to her. 

“My parents have an idea, a way to reach them hopefully,” the Outworld Princess said. 

“We’ve tried, they don’t seem to listen or acknowledge,” Wanda pointed out. 

“You’ve tried Billy, but my dad thought to use his telepathy to try to reach Kitana,” Jade replied. 

“My telepathy would also be magnified by an Outworld spell,” Kenshi added, taking Syndel’s hand. Wanda frowned but nodded as Kenshi sat down in front of Kitana, placing a hand on her forehead. 

“I will get you, watashi no magomusume (my granddaughter),” he whispered as Syndel placed a hand on Kenshi’s shoulder, beginning  to murmur in her native Outworld tongue. As a purple glow emitted from Syndel’s hand, covering Kenshi’s shoulder and his hand on Kitana’s head, the others hoped the plan would work. 

[harryandhishook]

Thanksgiving Secrets

Fandom: Dream Daddy

Pairing: Background Hugo x Damien

Setting: Maple Bay

Warning: Erm … Coming out? Swearing? I have no idea

Summary: After going to College, Lucien is invited for Thanksgiving with his Dad, Hugo and Ernest, however, Ernest hasn’t been his normal self and some secrets are revealed 

Words: 4059

Requested: Nope, I wrote this last November in a book on a coach coming back from Walk Disney World Florida

Side note: Before I give my apologies, I AM A TRANS MAN, if anything in here sounds off or doesn’t sound like how you expect a coming out story is, just remember, everyone’s coming out story is different and I tried to do this the best I can.

Also I am so so sorry, I know I haven’t uploaded in ages and I know there is no excuse but University is a bitch, my mental health is not good and my Grandmother (Who raised me) is pushing me to my limit and I’m so close to cutting contact with her. Sorry to unload all that to you but I’m trying my hardest to keep myself together and not just quit everything.

Here, have a cute Gif of Damien stroking a cat :) And sorry for any errors in the writing, it’s long and I still don’t have anyone to read my stuff over for me :(

Growing up wasn’t as bad as people thought it was, it just … sucked. When people aged, they found their soulmates, got jobs, leave to see the world, people grow up in body and mind.

It was around the time that Lucien was in his final year of Highschool when his Dad and Hugo finally confessed their feelings to each other and became a thing, Ernest was still young and very much acting out.

Lucien was the quickest to accept it, he was a little hesitant at first seeing as it was just him and Damien through his entire life and his Dad wasn’t exactly a stereotypical person, he may not act like it but when it comes to his Father, he is crazy protective over him and well, he didn’t want to let him get hurt, however, over time, he realised just how much the two Cul-De-Sac Fathers loved each other.

Ernest on the other hand, he couldn’t bring himself to accept the fact that his Father was dating, he couldn’t accept that he could one day have a Stepbrother, he just couldn’t accept any of it. The boy did everything to try and stop it, he acted out even more than usual, tried to split them up, he did whatever he could think of but no matter what, Damien would always treat him like he was his own son.

Now, a few years down the line, Lucien decided to prove every one of his disapproving teachers wrong and leave for College, all the while Ernest was stuck in his final year of Highschool, now, the pyromaniac delinquent was still one of his biggest features, something he was still well known as but the young Vega boy was actually a lot calmer than before and actually tried his hardest to settle down.

Damien and Hugo knew that Ernest never really had much of a problem with telling someone, even if it was through anger, how he felt and both Fathers had come to think that maybe the boy had completely reformed himself, figuring himself out, growing up from the mischievous boy they had watch destroy himself with hate and they both hoped that the boy would stay that way.

This year, the family decided to host Thanksgiving together, Lucien agreeing to travel down and stay for two weeks with them all while Damien tried to get as much time as he could from work for his Son. Luckily for Hugo and Ernest, the school boiler had decided to explode quite abruptly, leaving almost the entirety of the upper school, Hugo and Ernest area, flooded, giving them both the opportunity to stay at home for longer.

The day Lucien arrived home, he two Dad decided to meet him at the bus station, they had asked Ernest who had politely refused which was not much of a surprise to them, he barely left his room recently, he didn’t say why but they expected it may have possibly been school work.

When they had arrived at the station and greeted Lucien very happily, they had both shrugged off his question of, ‘where’s the brat?’, stating that he was busy and found it difficult to put his stuff down, not wanting him to worry too much when he had only just got there.

When Lucien got to the house, he was more than happy to wave at all his old neighbours with a wide smile on his face, anyone from a mile away could tell he had missed Maple Bay. It took almost an hour before the emo was able to walk through the door, not only did he need help with bags, his neighbours that he had waved to, mainly Mary, Joseph and Brian, had taken it upon themselves to bombard him with questions … okay, mainly Joseph and Brian, Mary was just happy to see the little monster again.

Finally, Lucien was in the clear, bags in the hall, coat and shoes off, placed neatly in their respective places while Damien rushed off to make them all something special to eat that night. The bo-young adult moved through his old home without so much as looking where he was going, all perfectly memorised until he reached the room that he never really needed to go into, the room that was never used into recently, Ernest’s room.

With a soft knock, Lucien waited, he knew that even with Ernest being older and probably not bothered by the emos presence, he still needed privacy,

“Who is it?” came a quiet and tired sounding voice, to anyone outside of the family, they would have thought someone else had spoken but Lucien could recognise the little shits voice better than anyone,

“Oi, dickhead, you gonna open up for your favourite brother or not?” Lucien playfully replied, hoping his usual attitude and joking ways could coax Ernest out of his little hiding mood. It took a few moments but soon enough, the door creaked open, revealing a tired looking and very messy looking Ernest, his hair was a mess, his clothes looked like they hadn’t seen a washing machine in years from how crumpled and wrinkly they were and finally, even if the boy thought no one could see, Lucien wasn’t so easily fooled as to not see the dried tears staining his cheeks,

“Ernest, man, what happened?” the emo asked, pushing them both into the room so he could block out everyone else once the door was shut, “You look like shit, when was the last time you had a shower? What the hell happened to you dude?” he asked, well, more demanded to know as he continued to push the younger boy into the room, sitting him on the bed before shuffling around the piles of clothes and trash, picking up the laundry to move out into the hamper before picking up every single piece of rubbish and crap left on the floor,

“Nothings wrong, Luce, I’m fine, I’ve just been busy, you know how it is, final year of school and all that” Ernest protested, trying his hardest to sound normal but failing miserably to convince his best friend and brother,

“Yeah, bullshit, if you’re so busy with work then I’m the straightest man alive, you’re lies ain’t gonna work on me so either you tell me what’s going on or have a shower, you smell like death so pick one or the other” Lucien demanded sternly, giving him a pretty simple choice, now to see if Ernest would actually pick one.

Luck would have it, Ernest grumpily rolled himself from the bed and made his way begrudgingly to the bathroom that was opposite the boys room, causing the emo to smile in relief.

As the sound f the shower filled the hall and the grumbles of annoyance hit the older siblings ears, Lucien made his way downstairs, large bag of trash in one hand and the hamper in the other. The little chore was meant to go smoothly … if his dads weren’t being stupidly lovey dovey in he kitchen, at least he got to see both adults become exceedingly embarrassed at being caught, however, that changed to shock when they spotted that the rebellious emo they had grown to love was cleaning in the first few minutes of staying in the house,

“It’s not what it looks like, Ernests room was a mess so I cleaned his room while he’s taking a well needed shower” Lucien explained as he put the bag of trash by the back door, “O know there is something wrong with him and I’m going to try get it out of him … whether he likes it or not” the boy stated as he moved into the adjacent room to start the new load of laundry, he was so busy he hadn’t even noticed his parents enter the room after him,

“My darling, we didn’t want you to worry, Ernest has been acting quite peculiar as of late, normally we can easily piece together his dilemma but … as you saw, he hasn’t left his room in quite some time” Damien explained as they stood in the doorway, watching the emo boy start the washer before turning to look at the two men, he was about to speak when Hugo interrupted him,

“I don’t want to lose Ernest, not when I’ve just managed to get him to call me dad again” the eldest Vega whispered, sighing as the Victorian beside him gently laced their fingers together, “Lucien please try and get him to open up to us” years ago, Lucien would tell his parents to do it themselves but from the looks on his dads faces, it was out of their hands and unsurprisingly up to him,

“Fine but only because I love you both” the emo chuckled, walking in between them to escape the little room, “Anyway, who can resist my puppy dog eyes” Lucien smirked before pointing at Damien, “and one of Dads famous movie pamper nights” he finished as he vanished back upstairs,

“Damien, what is he talking about?” the teacher asked, absolutely confused but also very intrigued. Hugo turned his gaze to the side only to come face to face with a very ecstatic man next to him,

“It’s been so long, I will need many supplies, first, I’ll need to find a good movie, maybe comedy, oh how this brings back so many memories” the Victorian man rambled as he scurried about the rooms, writing a very long list, “this will surely help Ernest, why did I not think of this” he muttered before handing the list to the other man in the room, “I will need you to run to Walmart for all these things, also get some of those pizza rolls that Ernest loves so much, thank you” he instructed before also disappearing off upstairs, leaving a baffled Hugo still stood in the laundry room now holding a long list of junk food … way too much junk food.

Nightfall came, the living room had been transformed into what looked like a teenage girls slumber party; junk food, movies, nail kits, make up, face masks, everything a slumber party needed.

Hugo had been told he could enter if and only if he let someone do one little bit of pampering on him, to which the teacher quickly excused himself with the explanation of ‘papers to complete’, leaving Damien to sit in his very baggy and very comfortable … okay, maybe not his clothes but the wrestling shirts he ‘borrowed’ from Hugo looked so cute on him. Lucien sat beside him in some of his least emo pyjamas anyone had ever seen on the boy since they were covered in Mickey Mouse heads but who’s judging.

Soon, once the room was competed, Lucien hurried upstairs, knocking gently on the large door of Ernest's room to get his attention,

“Bitch, I need you to do two things, one, find some comfy clothes and two, come downstairs” the emo shouted through the door before waiting for a response which amazingly didn’t take as long as the door opened to reveal a grouchy looking mess,

“What are you trying to do, Goth?” Ernest mumbled, obviously trying to joke around even thought Lucien could tell he felt like absolute shit,

“It’s emo and I’m not trying to do anything, all I want to do is to try and help you feel better” Lucien explained before realising he was just going to have to reveal what was downstairs, “Me and Dad were talking and I found out that you like to sit and talk to him so, me, you and my Dad are going to sit downstairs, eat junk food and watch movies … sound good?” he asked, hoping it was going to work.

Lucien realised it definitely did when Ernest held up a single finger, closing the door in the emos face before appearing once again moments later in very baggy yet comfortable clothing,

“Well then, come on, I don’t have all day” Ernest grumbled, a small smile gracing his exhausted face as he obviously tried to crack another joke with his stepbrother. Slowly, he made his way down the grand staircase to the living room where Damien was waiting happily,

“Ernest, my dead, come sit” he said giddily, patting the stack of pillows and duvets beside him, allowing Ernest enough space to sit comfortably as he pressed play on the movie, one of Ernest's and Damien's guilty pleasures, Descendants,

“Descendants, junk food and being lazy … you trying to butter me up, pops?” Ernest chuckled weakly as he sat down, getting himself comfortable between his family, he knew exactly what they were doing for him but maybe a little treat wouldn’t be too bad to indulge in.

A few hours, three descendants films and a lot of pampering later, the three of them were laid back, heads rested against the sofa as they spoke, Lucien's nails were drying, Damien had a face mask on and Ernest was staring, his ears were almost deaf to the world around him as the other two people in the room chatted away but he couldn’t bring himself to look away and join in, his gaze couldn’t move from the one thing in the room that haven’t been touched, the make-up. The young boy was silent, burning holes into the bag of brushes and surprises, until,

“Pops…” A meek whisper but was caught by the man it was directed to, causing the two to stop talking and sit up, removing the cucumbers from over his eyes,

“Yes my dear?” Damien asked as he watched the young boy slowly turn his gaze over to his,

“I’ve heard that … well, some girls at my school have said that …” the boy stuttered, trying to think of the best way to describe his strange request but he couldn’t, making the boy sigh and ask, “Can it feel good to put on make-up?” he finally asked, trying not to make eye contact.

Damien's eyes widened a little, out of everything he had prepared himself to answer, that wasn’t one of them,

“Well, it can, especially the brushes, the make-up itself can feel strange though” Damien answered before reaching over to the table the bag was laid, bring it over to them.

Ernest sat silently, watching him reach inside and pull out a large fluffy brush, leaning over and carefully sliding it across the boys cheek, earning a soft sigh of joy,

“Would you like me to put some on you?” the Victorian man asked as he rummaged through the seemingly bigger on the inside bag, revealing a few different contraptions and what looked like small torture devices. With a small, timid nod, the young Vega answered,

“Y-Yes please … if it’s not too weird” Ernest whispered, shuffling closer to Damien, all the while, Lucien watched with a happy smile, he knew this is exactly what his brother needed, maybe not just to relax but it was a relief to watch Ernest finally calm,

“Let’s get started then and don’t worry dear, I have the perfect colours for you … I may have possibly convinced your Father to do this once too” Damien chuckled softly, reminiscing as he grabbed the correct pieces he needed. Ernest closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt a cool liquid and soft brush move over his skin.

A while later and make-up flung everywhere, Damien sat back to admire his work as Ernest scrunched his face a little to get used to this new and very strange feeling of stuff covering his face,

“You look absolutely darling, it suits you” the Victorian said as he started to tidy the make-up away just as the grandfather clock behind then chimed midnight, “Oh dear, it is quite late and I need to start preparing food tomorrow, well, I guess I best wash this stuff off of my face and retire to bed, you boys can stay up a little longer if you wish, as long as you don’t make too much noise” Damien said as he slowly stood, stretching himself out before kissing both boys on the top of their heads, bidding them a good night.

Lucien continued to watch his Father head upstairs to his room before turning back to Ernest once he was no longer in sight but stopped at the scene before him,

“Ernest? What wrong?” he asked concerned, in front of him was Ernest, a boy well known for setting fire to the bushes outside his Fathers home, holding a mirror and sobbing into his hand, “Ernest, it’s okay, you can talk to me, what happening to you?”

As Ernest turned his head to look at the boy beside him, Lucien noticed the slight little wrinkles on the edge of his eyes, the same wrinkles his own Father got, which was all he needed to know exactly what was going through his brothers head and no matter what, he was going to show him just how much he still loved him through it all.

A few days went by, Lucien and Ernest had barely been in the house which, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud, made both parents happy but also quite concerned for their sons whenever Lucien shrugged them off with quick reassurance of, ‘They’ll tell you on Thanksgiving, don’t worry dads’, before quickly running which wasn’t what the two men were hoping to hear but it seemed to ease both their minds for a while, at least until Hugo restarted his usual pacing around the kitchen as Damien cooked.

The night came quickly, Thanksgiving, the food was almost complete, the house smelt of perfectly roasted vegetables and mouth-watering deserts, the table decorated to Damien's specifications while Hugo was banished to sit and wait at the table, only problem was, two people were still missing, however, not too far away as just upstairs behind a single locked door were their pair of siblings, whispering cautiously,

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea” the young Vega questioned, obviously having a few seconds thought as they allowed Lucien to work his magic,

“It is a good idea … look, Dad and Pops aren’t going to hate you, they never could, they love you too much and anyway, I think your forgetting one vital thing and probably one of the biggest elephants in this house” Lucius argued, brushing through his siblings now unknotted hair, trying and praying to whatever deity out there to get it to style as the other sat quietly,

“And what’s that exactly?” they asked, watching in the mirror cautiously as Lucien spoke up with a soft chuckle,

“Damien” he placed the brush down as he expertly braided the surprisingly long hair in front of him and for the first time in months, the youngest Vega laughed,

Not too long later, Dinner was called, Hugo and Damien waited patiently in their respective seats just as footsteps descended the stairs but only a single pair of footsteps approaching the dining room. Both men turned curiously to see Lucien standing in the doorway but no one else,

“Lucien, where’s Ernest?” Hugo asked, seemingly becoming annoyed as well as worried over the whereabouts of his son,

“About that…” Lucien started, turning his gaze into the hall for a moment before quickly moving back to the stares of his parents, “Ernest won’t be joining us tonight … or ever again …” the young emo explained, quickly realising a long pause wouldn’t be the best option as he quickly stopped either one of his Fathers could protest, stepping further into the room, “Because someone new will be taking Ernest's place” just as he finished speaking, a tall figure walked into the room beside him, a long, tight fitting, pale orange cocktail dress swept the floor behind the person as their long braided hair lay over a single exposed shoulder.

The light of the room hit the persons face, capturing the perfectly applied make-up that sculpted their features beautifully and it was then they realised,

“Ernest?” they both asked, quite bewildered, watching the young Vega nervousness build up which did not go unnoticed by Lucien,

“Actually, may I introduce our newest addition to the Vega-Bloodmarch Family, Emily, Emily Dickinson Vega, my sister” he announced, wrapping a supportive arm around his sibling to give them some encouragement, “If it’s okay with her Fathers, she would very much like to join us for dinner?” Lucien asked softly, smile on his face as he waited for their parent’s reactions.

Unsurprising to Lucien, Damien was the first to move, wasting no time in in pushing his chair out from under himself to embrace his daughter,

“Oh, my dear, of course you can join us for dinner and for any other meals you want to” he whispered through tears he didn’t even know were running down his face, “now I understand the make-up, I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs sooner, I never wanted you to feel scared to be who you are” he whispered, the scene in the Bloodmarch home was one to remember when Emily wrapped her arms around his step-father, holding onto him as if their lives depended on it, however, there was still only one other person they needed to complete this little family moment, Hugo.

Everyone slowly turned their heads to see the larger man carefully rising from his seat, moving around the ornate furniture to move closer to where his child stood, arms back by her side as she stood tall and strong,

“Dad, I know this is sudden but I’ve been hiding for so long, I didn’t know who I was but I saw Damien doing so many things that made me think, he showed me how happy he was, I saw the life of someone who was truly happy, all this” she gestured to herself as she continued, “made me realize who I really am and I’m sorry for not being able to tell you sooner … I know I ruined your life for years with all the stupid shit I did but all the stupid thoughts in my head, I was scared, alone, I-“ her rambling was cut short when a pair of quite muscular arms pulled her forward and into a tight but comforting embrace,

“You are my child, my flesh and blood, you are everything to me and I love you, never forget that, no matter who you are, you are a Vega” he reassured, whispering just loud enough for Damien and Lucien to hear the loving exchange of words as they both smiled proudly.

Soon enough, two smaller arms snaked their way around Hugo as a small sob echoed in the large room causing any existing space in the embrace to disappear as it tightened,

“I was so scared you would hate me, I was meant to be your son, the man of the hous-“ her hurtful words were stopped as she was carefully pushed backwards, a hand laid gently on her cheek, forcing her to blurrily look up at a smiling Hugo,

“You have always been my daughter, even if we didn’t know that until now, you were and always will be my baby girl” he explained, his voice soothing any doubt the young Vega had before the wrestling nerd added just one more sentence, “And I think being married to Damien is an automatic law that I accept whatever part of the LGBT you realise you’re apart of … I think I’d be a bit hypocritical if I didn’t accept you as my daughter” the taller man finished and after a few moments of silence, the room filled with giggles from the man in question,

“Your Fathers right” Damien managed to say through soft giggles, “Excuse my French but … I’d kick his ass if he didn’t” he smirked before quickly pushing the three of them towards the table, “Now, if you children, yes, I’m also talking about you too Hugo, don’t get to the table to eat, the food will go cold and I’ll lock the refrigerator as punishment” the Victorian man threatened as the Family rolled their eyes but obediently followed his orders, spending the rest of the night laughing, talking and finally, for the first time in a while, being a family.

[starless-night-fright]

I finally watched Episode 9. 

The reveal of Lucien as Ares admittedly, didn’t hit as hard as I hoped. Part of it is that we don’t get that beautiful music done by V.K that just hurts so damn good. Part of it is we didn’t get as much buildup with Lucien as a character.  

They did also change core parts of the moment. Originally, Lucien teleports MC out of the way, and she goes back, stumbling into the conversation. Here, she draws the attention of the men in black, and he steps in to help her. I like seeing MC put on the pants here and protect Lucien. It’s something refreshing, you know?

I think part of the emotion was lost because we didn’t get the whole conversation. Namely, Lucien comparing MC to prey that he is hunting. We don’t get her saying that she knows he needs her, and that her death would foil his plans so let her go to catch her another day. Also, interesting that she hurts him, and that he isn’t hurt in response to losing the Queen. 

Lowkey, in the game, I always imagine the pen as being a ball point pen. I know it isn’t, but it helps visually that its a fountain pen because how the fuck do you kill yourself with a ballpoint pen.

I’m wondering if this is the last Lucien episode. Mainly because we have 3 episodes left. The next one will most likely be the last we see of Kiro. Calling it now - no Helios. There just isn’t time. We still haven’t gotten the scene of Gavin tackling MC while their under gun fire. That’s probably going to be episode 11. Introducing the plague (quickly of course). 

Episode 12 is obviously going to be Victor coming back to the past, trying to save MC, and failing. So help me God, if that mental break down isn’t in there I will scream. 

Back to this being Lucien’s last episode. I just don’t know if we can get the weird dreamscape in by then. Like, in all honesty, the only real big thing that happens there aside from Lucien screentime is the death of Hades. Also, somehow, Lucien’s last line of the series being that “The next time I see you, it will be as Ares” seems kinda juicy to me ngl. It also brings in that, ultimately, this is a tragedy. This story doesn’t have a happy end. The biggest issue is that there is an imbalance of episodes featuring the boys. I think he only got 2 real episodes here where he was the main focus, and Gavin high-jacked half of one of them. 

Maybe Lucien will steal half of episode 11? If Perry isn’t introduced (nor the impeding plague), then there isn’t a whole lot there to cover in Gavin’s story. All that would be left is him saving MC from the tower, and him joining the military. I would not oppose to another Shaw appearance, though. 

Kiro will end up being implicitly dead, Gavin in a test tube, and Victor holding the corpse of a girl he once saved, and spent 17 years looking for. This isn’t a happy story. 

I’m wondering if the plague will be brought in. Like, I didn’t think Perry’s dad would be here - and he was. He existed for like, what, two minutes? Like, there could be some sweet, sweet angst, but again, with time constraints, I feel like the whole thing will be rushed. 

Something to note here, though. I mention the rushing of the story and cutting a lot in these analysis posts I make. I should throw out that, in all honesty, I think this is the best they could have done. Chapters 1-18 make the most sense as a singular plot for one season of an anime. Unfortunately, as tends to be the case these days, a lot of new anime series only get 12 episodes for one season. Hell, even My Hero Academia had its first season with 12 episodes. With MLQC, there are only two places where you can end a season, Chapter 10, and Chapter 19. Going with Chapter 10, it gives much more time for world building and setting up plots - not to mention an obligatory beach episode (I want those fucking dates goddammit) - however it leaves the plot open ended for a show that most likely won’t get a season 2. Otome animes tend to not do well due to the whole ambiguity of which boy is canon. MLQC is the only one that I could see doing well, since it only has one plot. It’s a dating sim where you don’t really need to date any of the boys. There’s romantic subtext, sure, but you can choose to ignore it if you want. Anyway, back to my main point. Most likely, it was believed in production that this show will not be renewed, so they tried to make is so that the show can end or can continue depending. 

I will be surprised if we get more, but then again, it managed to get over 100 million views for the whole series, which I also didn’t think it would get so. There’s that. If there is a season two, they would have to fix a lot of plot holes (the black cabin, and the potential lack of Helios if I’m correct on that prediction, Eli).

Regardless, I hope they actually do Kiro’s symbolic death justice. MAKE. ME. HURT.  

[sharinluna]

MLQC Chapter 18 Part B Translation

DO NOT COPY, QUOTE, REPOST OR REBLOG THIS ANYWHERE. Links are okay but I don’t want this post to spread too much in other communities or websites.

This is not a full translation, only some parts. It’s more like a abbreviation/summary/paraphrasing of some parts of the story. Do not ask me to translate more or reveal more plots in the story.

The translation is based on KR version text. I’m not a professional translator and get things wrong. So do not regard this as the actual canon story.

I used Yōurán as the name of MC because that is the unofficial default MC’s name in CN version.

READ THE PREVIOUS TRANSLATIONS otherwise you won’t understand a thing. Search mlqc translations and they will pop up.

**********************

According to “me”, the world would come to an end six days later.

I went upstairs to the attic. I saw Victor leaning on a dusty wall, asleep. He looked so forlorn like this. His shirt was wrinkled and he held the glass cup from yesterday. The broken pieces were patched up together. Even though he was sleeping, he was holding onto it lest it broke again.

I felt like choking up as I sat down next to him quietly. I noted that he lost so many weights. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he looked haggard. He didn’t look like Victor at all.

He said he would find my previous self, but didn’t he know that he was also losing his self? The previous Victor was always confident and austere. He would never let anything get to him like this. “Victor” was not supposed to hide in the attic like this, scrunched up and clutching a broken glass…

This was wrong. If I l weren’t such a wreck, he would never have to go through such hardships

I took hold of his hand, and then a vision came before my eyes.

I saw a single streak of tear running down his face.

I saw his trembling hands and pained eyes.

I saw pale light behind him, like the world was ending.

Victor was still asleep. Despair and hopelessness could be seen in his face, like he was afraid that his worst nightmare would come true. I turned around and bit my knuckles hard to stop from crying.

I knew right then and there what I had to do. What decisions I must face.

It’s easy to figure out what’s right and wrong when we are talking about someone else. But when it comes to oneself, selfishness gets in the way. In the end, everyone is inclined to choose themselves over the world.

Someone close to me was faced with a calamity, someone else went missing. Someone gave up their faith. And many more became lost with no place to rely on.

I cannot, and will not escape my fate. I will not excuse myself with cowardly words and weakness.

I wasn’t trying to be heroic, I just wanted to protect everyone I cared about. Sometimes, people are faced in a situation where you can’t really choose anything else. No matter how reluctant, or unwilling I felt, I cannot turn my back on this. If peace would come with my sacrifice… then that’s what I truly wanted.

Victor opened his eyes, saw me and slowly raised himself up.

Victor: How did you get in here?

Yōurán: I found my previous self again…

I smiled at him.

Yōurán: Victor, you’re right. Tomorrow is going to be a better day. I was such a mess last night, I’m sorry! I pulled myself together now. I won’t be like that again, I promise.

Victor handed me the cup and stood up.

Victor: I know what you’re worried about. Don’t underestimate yourself, and don’t underestimate me.

Standing in the sunlight, he looked so strong and majestic. This was what Victor was supposed to be like.

I mouthed the word “thank you” at his back. Victor, you have no idea that you gave me the courage to walk toward the right path. I will never regret the choice I made today. This time, I will take full responsibility and save everyone.

*****************************

There was so much to do during the last days of my life.

I came to my deserted office and stroked the plants on my desk. The post it notes next to the desktop computer seemed to urge me to get to work right away. I took them off one by one. Then I wrote the name of every colleague who worked with me.

Anna who was always with me since the beginning, Kiki, always cheerful about everything, Willow, who’s enthusiasm was admirable. Minor, clumsy but endearing… I wrote a letter to each and every one of them and looked around my office for one last time.

After I exited the office building, I went into the nearest store. As I held on to a bag of chips, I wondered if another pair of hands would grab at them too, just like that day. I would turn around and my eyes would meet a pair of eyes that held all the light in the world.

Yōurán: This time, the chips are mine, Kiro.

I whispered as I bought all chips that was left on the shelf, except one bag of chips with a picture of batman on the cover.

Yōurán: But I will leave this one especially for you. Don’t try to take mine when you come back.

Then I went to the orphanage. Despite the world being in turmoil, the children’s smiles were still innocent and carefree. I handed out the chips to them.

Yōurán: Your favorite superstar Kiro asked me to give you these. Keep this a secret between us, but he told me to tell you that everything will soon get better. That there’s no need to be afraid.

The children put their fingers to their lips with wide eyes and vowed to keep the secret. When I was about to leave, a girl grabbed onto my clothes shyly.

Girl: Will you come back soon? No one has visited us for a long time…

I stroked the girl’s head gently, plastering a smile to keep the tears from falling.

Yōurán: When everything becomes normal again, I will come and see you, I promise.

After that lie, I went to Loveland High school. There was no one on the campus. I went to the familiar piano room.

I opened the piano cover and played a melody that connected me and Gavin. If I looked up, maybe I would see gingko leaves dancing in the winds outside the window.

But all melodies, no matter how sweet, must come to an end.

Yōurán: Gavin, it seems that this time, I’m the one who’s leaving you for a change. I hope this is the last farewell between us…

After that, my footsteps took me to the park.

“You know, even if the end of the world did come, it would never come in summer.”

How wrong I was back then…

I walked around the park until I saw a stand selling kites. An old man was drawing pictures on them.

Old man: What picture do you want, Miss?

Yōurán: Not pictures… but I’d like the words “All goes well.” written on them.

Old man: Very well. A simple but powerful wish.

He wrote the worlds with graceful calligraphy.

I took the kite and went to that place underneath the camphor tree. I saw a boy sitting alone under the tree. He looked like the loneliest boy in the world. I sat down next to him.

Yōurán: Were you talking to that cat that just passed by?

Boy: Cats can’t understand people.

He spoke with his head down. I smiled.

Yōurán: Here. Take this.

Boy: Why?

Yōurán: For… telling me that animals can’t talk with people.

He slowly took the kite from my hands and muttered a thank you. I stood up and said goodbye to him.

Boy: Aren’t you going to fly the kite?

Yōurán: It’s not spring anymore. I’ll fly it next spring.

I walked away. Lucien and I promised each other that we would fly kites next spring. It saddened me a little that I would never see another spring in my life.

Lastly, I went to the place where I used to live with my dad. On the walls I could see the marks showing how much I grew every year. I stroked then gingerly.

Yōurán: Dad, we will meet again soon…

Nothing can last forever. But at this moment I felt like I had everything. I felt free, brave and confident.

Yes, it was time to say goodbye to my past and move on. To keep walking forward without turning back…

***********************************

Victor and I watched helplessly as all the people infected with the virus turned into thoughtless mobs and slaughtered each other on instinct.

??: This is the true face of humanity. Everyone will deceive you and betray you, but not me.

Yōurán: Who the hell are you?!

??: Like I’ve been saying, I am you. There’s no need to be afraid. I won’t hurt you, because you are me. We are one and the same.

??: I know you made your choice. I’m proud of you. But you don’t really want to die for them, don’t you? I will erase them and claim you on my side again. If they are all gone and we are alone, no one will hurt us ever again. You agree with me, right?

Yōurán: What do you mean?

??: I’m not going to hurt you. I already experienced all the pains that you’ve gone through. At first, I chose to sacrifice myself like you. But no one thanked me or remembered me. They even took my sacrifice as granted. The human race continued to slaughter each other for greed.

Her face revealed endless sorrow, and I could feel her emotions as if it were mine.

??: That’s when I realized that love and trust is nothing more than a delusion. This world doesn’t deserve to be saved. Humankind is evil. I know you don’t believe me. But I wanted you to know that killing them off is they only way to end your pain.

Victor suddenly smirked and looked at her, the another me.

Victor: You are not her. And you can never be her. You may look the same, but your eyes are so different.

??: It doesn’t matter. We will be the same now.

The soldiers started to fire their guns at her. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my chest like I was shot too. I could feel her pain and hurt as if it were mine as well.

When they seized fire, she stood up. The bullets did nothing to stop her.

??: It quite hurt a lot back there, right? Now do you see that we are one and the same?

Yōurán: No, you can never be me, and I can never be you. Maybe some people are so evil that they don’t deserve to be saved, but you have no right to decide that. We have the law for that.

Yōurán: Yes, I feel hurt and betrayal, but that’s because I love them. The love that came from the people you hate. You are not me, so you can never understand that. You should atone for what you did.

??: Really, and you think my atonement has nothing to do with you? Well, then I’ll start now. It’s going to hurt, but bear with me.

I felt excruciating pain taking all over my body. I could feel her triumph seeping inside my head.

??: I’m going to make you return back inside me now, then I’m going to kill every single human on this earth.

I felt her pain, her cries when we were strapped to the med table, when we experienced the car crash, when we bled together…

She was me. Everything I went through, she did too, and vice versa. Her pain and thoughts were mine as well.

I grabbed on to Victor’s hand.

Yōurán: Victor. I have an idea. It will save everyone. You have to kill me.

Victor: No!

Yōurán: She’s trying to take control of my body. When she does that, nothing can stop her!

I tried to smile reassuringly.

Yōurán: Don’t worry. I’ll survive. You know how stubborn my life is. I faced death many times but I outlived all of them. I will do it this time too. Don’t make me turn into her, please?

Victor: Don’t even think about it!

Yōurán: But this is the future I saw! You can’t change that now!

I finally spoke out what I saw in my vision on the attic that day. In my visions Victor was the one who was ending my life. And my visions always came true.

Please do it, Victor, so that the beautiful future can come, so that the people I love can go on living…

Yōurán: All your life, you were always the winner, right? Well, this time you have to lose. You always told me I was a fool, but I don’t want to be one anymore. I’m going to win this time.

I forced myself to say this as I felt fire burning inside my heart.

Yōurán: Victor, promise me that you won’t be alone. The pain is becoming too much. Please kill me before it’s too late…

Soon, everything will go back to normal. She won’t be able to kill everyone on earth. They will keep on living. I would meet my dad again.

I finally understood that this was a cycle that I couldn’t break out of. There was a reason everything felt so familiar. I have went through this countless times already.

I saw Victor crossing the timelines repeatedly. I saw him throw the pocket watch to the ground and turn back time again.

I saw white light spreading behind him.

Victor: Yōurán, I will never admit that I lost. I am always going to be the one who wins in the end. And I will do what I said I would without fail.

With trembling hands he held a knife. A streak of tear flowed from his eye.

Yōurán: Victor, please don’t forget me…

It wasn’t death that was so painful after all…

As I let go of my life, I thought I heard him say these words.

Victor: I will find you, wherever you are in time and space.

****************************

Happiness was in everyone’s faces. The theme park opened again, and the schools resumed their semester. It was a beautiful world without me.

I turned around and saw another me in another world.

“If I were still a little kid, I definitely wouldn’t let you have the last bag of chips.”

“You should watch yourself. Someone can’t come to your rescue every time.”

“Lucien? What do you want with him?”

“Surprised? You probably thought I would be in a jail rather than a police station, right?”

A single drop of tear fell from my eyes.

*****************************

It’s revealed in this chapter that the story thus far is a time loop. MC chose to die for the world many times and after her death another MC is born in a parallel world and repeats the cycle of chapters 1-18.

The dark MC (aka Black Queen) is MC from a parallel world who sacrificed herself to save the world just like this MC did. But according to her, everyone forgot her and took her sacrifice for granted. Feeling betrayed, she plans to kill everyone except MC as a revenge.

Meanwhile, Victor vows that he will find her, turning back time again.

Whenever I read chapter 18 I am reminded of a quote from Harry Potter book 6.

It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew - and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents - that there was all the difference in the world.

How you choose is just as important as what you choose. Yōurán chose sacrifice, but she didn’t do it because she was pushed into it out of despair or as a suicide attempt. Her choice is based on her belief and her love for the humanity. That makes her a hero in my eyes rather than a scapegoat.

Thank you all for reading my translations. I skipped out a lot of parts and paraphrased the sentences quite a lot. So I recommend that you regard the official EN translated chapters when they are updated as canon. I just wanted to let you get a glimpse of what’s to come.

I will continue to make more analysis posts, various translations, and miscellaneous others, but chapter translations are going to be on hiatus. When Elex updates chapters 15-18 on EN server, I will continue the future chapter translations starting from chapter 19.

I will end this post with chapters 19+ PV.

Brace yourself for the cold everyone, for winter is coming.

[seven-dragons]

S3E4 live blog

Haven’t done one of these in a while but hubby is out of town so I can type away without raising suspicion.  Today’s bachelor blog is brought to you by a dinner of frozen spinach and an old hamburger I found in the back of the fridge.   Party on!

Of Mattie’s commie brigade preaching about “workers united”, do any of them other than Mattie actually work?  

The more I watch 3.4 the more I wish Des has successes in throwing acid all over Mattie’s father.  He is a absolute prick.  There is a special place in hell for parents who parent by humiliation.

Blake and Jean are so domestic in this one, even referring themselves as “we”.

Munro may be officious scum but he rocks a duster.

Munro gives Blake such a bitchy look when he sees Blake shaking hands with Mattie’s dad and Ken Farmer at the speech.

So all Mattie’s friends were in on the paint plan and knew about the acid plan are we supposed to believe Mattie didn’t know?

Why is Australia in Eurovision?  Whose next, the moon?

Blake’s face when Alice says “can’t you tell when I’m joking” it’s like for the first time ever Lucien realizes that keeping his mouth shut may save his life.

The scene with Jean and Agnes is understated comedy gold.  I love Blake’s barely suppressed laughter.

Agnes KNOWS y’all.

Blake: Of course I’d love to drive Mattie to the club let me just down this 3rd drink.

So I only just realized this but when Blake and Munro are facing off at Mattie’s horrible awkward dinner at the club Blake knows about Munro’s shoulder injury.  I wonder if Munro is the only one keeping a dossier.

Blake tries so hard to stand by Mattie and protect her from her father I love him so much for it.

Mattie: I don’t care if my friends are attacking politicians and betraying me to the press they are my FRIENDS!

Mattie 5 minutes later: In solidarity with my friends here are saliva samples for you to accuse them with.

Mattie: My father humiliates with me in public and is a callous ass who also might be abusing my mother while my friends are stabbing me in the back and also trying to maim people.  Blake: you think that’s bad my mother was allergic to dogs.

Mattie hears Charlie on the phone probably conspiring to spy on Blake and doesn’t tell Blake.  That’s gratitude.

Bill is such a mate offering to beat up Joe so Charlie doesn’t have to do it.

Jean can talk all she wants about not being disappointed in Mattie if that side-eye she gives doesn’t scream “you slut” I don’t know what does.  It is the most judgy look of the whole series.

Jean and Blake banding together to protect Mattie is one of my favorite scenes.  They are SO FAMILY.

Why exactly does Joe dump Mattie?

Blake lectures Munro about about not wanting to know about the saliva test but I am positive he never even mentioned it to Munro.  Munro wanting a completed coroners report had no bearing on the tests.

Martin: Being a parent, having a chance to control you and shame you is the most important thing I ever did and I need to take complete control of your life so you can live the same fulfilling joyful life that I did.

Jean is so chill about Mattie’s dad. He’s a national level politician this should be a huge deal and she doesn’t even use the fancy dining room table when he eats over.  Shouldn’t an MP be given at least as much consideration as her boyfriend’s wife?

[emclarkerps]

Naryn: “I never meant to hurt you..” // Thadeline: “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” // Taspian: “Tell me how you really feel about me.” // MelxLucien: “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you."

Naryn: “I never meant to hurt you..” 

Nik looked up at the ghost, not knowing she was really there, and shook her head. Her hands clenched into fists and she felt the tears starting. “But you did!” This was all in her head. It wasn’t as though Taryn was really there. She wished, more than anything, that she was, but realistically, that could never happen. The brunette wiped her eyes. “How could you do something like that to me? To your family? You ripped our hearts out. Jesus, Taryn…” She shook her head. “You were my best friend. I loved you so fucking much…how am I supposed to go on living like this? Do you know how painful it is, to wake up every morning knowing that you’re not here? Knowing that I can’t pick up my phone and talk to you? To know we’re never going to get our happily ever after?” She hiccuped. “What if it had been me? I hurt, too! My life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, either! It was supposed to be us against the world. But now you left me, and I’m alone, and it’s just me against the world. Because you were selfish. And now I get to live with the aftermath of wondering…” She shook her head. “Of wondering what if I had done more? What if I had listened better? What if I had been with her that night?” She sniffled. “Now I get to be the one feeling like a failure. …I failed you.”

Thadeline: “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Theo shrugged her shoulders. “Of course I am. Tell me something I don’t know.” She paused. “Or, tell me something I do know, but you don’t want to admit.” She pointed to the other girl. “Admit it, Adeline. You love me. You love me more than you can express, and it scares you. It scares you because we lived in a time where if it had been known how much you love me, you would have been executed. It scares you because you feel like a monster. It scares you because how could someone love you back?” She shook her head. “But someone does love you back. And we’re already dead, so the world can’t hut us. And you’re far from a monster. You’re beautiful. You’re smart. And you’re so fucking sexy. You love in ways that you don’t even realize. You can’t hold your feelings back forever, Addie. Eventually, you’re going to explode. If you just opened your eyes and let yourself admit it, maybe…just maybe…you would feel even the slightest bit happier. And the world would be less of a prison. …we’re stuck here for all eternity. We know each other better than anyone ever can, or ever will. …just give in, Addie. …it’s okay to fall.”

Taspian: “Tell me how you really feel about me.”

Caspian looked at the blonde and tilted his head. “You know how I feel about you.” He shrugged. “I think you’re hot. I think you’re cool.” He paused and scrunched his eyebrows together. “…and now I’m just quoting Kesha.” Caspian sighed, sitting on the ground and looking up at the girl. “You, Tally…you’re different. And you make me feel things that I’ve never felt before. …things I don’t really understand. I never got to feel these thing before on the isle.” He shrugged. “If anyone knew I felt these things, they would have my head. Quite literally. …I come off as this moron that doesn’t know his rights from lefts and up from down, but I’m smarter than I look. And I protect myself, because nobody else is going to protect me. It’s been me, for me, since as long as I can remember.” He looked down at the ground. “And how I feel about you, scares the hell out of me. I wanted to believe it was just a fling and that you were a warm place to stick my penis, but the longer it’s gone on, I’ve realized that you are more than that. You’re funny, smart, beautiful, and you give me the warm fuzzy feeling in my heart that I’ve never experienced before.” He stood up and took her hands. “So, I guess what I’m saying, Princess Tally, is that…” He gave a half smile. “is that I love you.”

MelxLucien: “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you.“

Melody looked up at the brunette and took a deep breath, trying to wrap her mind around what it was that he was saying. Yes, they had been friends since the start of school years and years ago, and yes, she and Tally had talked about how nice it would be to someday marry a prince, but this? This was the real deal. And it terrified her. “I…” If she let herself fall for him, everything was going to change. Her status of being princess on land and sea would someday change to being queen of the entire kingdom. Already, her life was a whirlwind of crazy times, but adding this on top of things…could she do it? “Lucien…” Melody didn’t know where to begin. Her mind was going a mile a minute. “…you first saw me when I was dressed as a mermaid for a Halloween play back in kindergarten.” She shook her head and let out a small laugh. “…you had on a fake beard and were dressed like your dad as the beast.” She took his hands. “…someone stole my Kit-Kat and I was crying, so you gave me half of yours. …and I gave you a hug and told you that I loved you, even though I had only known you for a few seconds.” She took a deep breath. “…all this time, I’ve tried to hide how I felt, because I don’t want all eyes on me. And if the world knew how I felt about you, well…that would be all over. I’m not great in the spotlight. I’m grumpy, short tempered, klutzy…” She let out a small laugh. “…but you already know all this. …and if you love me despite my flaws, then I guess I can work on…not changing, because I can’t change who I am if I tried, but…hiding it a little better in front of the rest of the kingdom. And I love you, too.”

[mwgaybachelor]

He came over to where, Abraham was sitting, and could tell immediately that he was upset about something.

JUDE- “What’s up, you look a little pissed?  My Dad giving you too much homework again?”

ABRAHAM- “No, it’s not him...It’s nothing really.”

JUDE- “You can tell the Jude Dude, man, I don’t want to play basketball with you distracted, I want to beat you fair and square.”

ABRAHAM- “It’s Ezil, he is just been acting really weird lately and now he isn’t wanting to go to Alexandria to work as an apprentice next year.  I mean I don’t want that shit, but I really think he does. Plus he has no one here...but me.”

JUDE- “He does rely on you alot. It’s almost like he is dependent on you...but if he doesn’t really want to go, you shouldn’t talk about it. I mean he may want to, but don’t want to leave here.  He has it nice here, and you two are pretty close.”

ABRAHAM- “Yeah, maybe.  Sometimes I think he might, be like...----”

JUDE- “In love with you?”

ABRAHAM- “Yeah...so you see it?”

JUDE- “Kind of.  I mean he is pretty protective of you, and like I said he seems kind of dependent on you. And I don’t think he likes that we hang out together now.  Maybe he is a little jealous that you have another friend besides him.”

ABRAHAM- “Maybe that’s it. I mean we have never really had other friends.  It’s always just been us, and his sister. And we sure haven’t talked about our...sexuality.  It’s just never came up. I haven’t really gave it much thought until lately.  The way he has been acting.... I’m not sure.”

JUDE- “Are you attracted to him?  I mean like in that way?”

ABRAHAM- “I mean...I don’t really know...I mean we have grown up together. We do everything together, well up until now. We are very open, you know...like we get dressed in the same room, we even have showered together before. I don’t know....maybe. He is built really nice....and---”

JUDE- “UH..I don’t want to know. Well maybe I do... But honestly, when I first met the two of you, I thought you were boyfriends.

ABRAHAM- “You are probably right, and to be honest, I do love him...I just don’t know about the sex stuff...”

JUDE- “Being gay isn’t ALL about  the sex ...I mean it’s hot, but when you love someone, it isn’t and shouldn’t just be about sex.  It should be trust, and respect...and you just get each other...you know?  When sex does happen, all those things make it so much better.”

ABRAHAM- “ I do respect him and trust him with my life...and there is no one that knows me like Ezil does...and there have been times I have had fantasies...”

JUDE- “It’s all good Boedell, that is normal.  Don’t be afraid of it.  Hell your grandparents are gay and so is Lucien.  You should know more than anyone about how important it is to be who you are.”

ABRAHAM- “So what should I do...I mean how do I just ask him???”

JUDE- “I mean you don’t need to do anything any different. But maybe just bring up what you just told me, about how you feel about him.  If he is in love with you, I am sure he will tell you then...and if not, then I’m available....”

ABRAHAM- “You are pretty hot.... LOL”

JUDE- “See, don’t it feel good to say that, even if you were joking.”

ABRAHAM- “I wasn’t joking, you are.”

JUDE- “We should play basketball....”

[ddaddsprompts]

The dad's react to MC falling off a ladder and mc hurts himself (either broken bone or very bad bruises)

Maybe trying to hang up the Christmas decoration all by yourself hadn’tbeen your smartest decision, but you’re filled to the brink with determinationand you’re going to do this. You hung up Christmas lights outside the house andon the windows, next is the living room. Standing on top of the ladder, you putup another chain of lights, followed by some tinsel. You stretch and stand onyour tiptoes trying to get to a hard-to-reach spot. The tips of your fingersbrush it and you feel a surge of triumph go through you when—The laddersuddenly topples over to the side. You try to hold onto the nearest heavy pieceof furniture, but can’t get a good grip. You fall with a scream and land on theground. Pain shoots from your leg up to your brain. With gritted teeth, youreach for your phone to call for help, only to remember you left it on thekitchen table. You groan and resign yourself to waiting until [Dad] comes home.

🥃 Youhave no idea how much time passes before you hear yipping and barking frombehind the front door and sigh in relief. Robert had taken Betsy on a scoutingtrip and these, you know from experience, could sometimes take a whole day oreven longer. From your position on the floor, you can see the front door beingopened. Betsy is the first to come inside, jumping around and barking. With thescuttle of claws on the floor, she runs up to you and licks your face. When youdon’t give her scratches or belly rubs, she whines and regards you with big,sad eyes. “Who the fuck hung up all these glitter things.” Robert closes thedoor and drops his bag and leather jacket right next to the clothes hook. Hefinally notices you lying on the floor and frowns. “Did Betsy knock you over?”Before you can reply he’s already in the living room. “Fucking hell. You okay?”You manage to shake your head and wince at the pain the action brings you. “Ifell off the ladder.” Robert gives you a look saying ‘no shit’ and carries theladder away so he can kneel next to you. “Can you get up? You should get yourleg examined. Looks broken.” With his help, you stand up, keeping all yourweight off your (probably) broken leg. “That’s what you get for trying to turnmy house into a kitschy, Christmas-y hell,” Robert says dryly. “Shut up.”

🍸 Joseph’s a busy man, jugglingsplit-custody of four kids, his job as youth minister and his role in thecommunity, so you fully expect having to wait for hours until he comes back.Imagine your surprise when, barely half an hour or so after your fall, thefront door opens. “Are you there, Y/N?” Joseph calls out, carrying bags upon bagsof grocery shopping that obstruct his view. “It seems like I have the day off.Everyone at church took over some of my duties for the day so I could go home,isn’t that lovely? I went and bought the ingredients for dinner, we can—“ Hefinally turned and caught a glimpse of you lying on the floor. Immediately,Joseph drops the shopping bags and hurries over to your side. Between theladder lying next to you and the chain of lights dangling from the bookshelf,attached only on one end, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.He leans over you, face contorted in worry. “Y/N! Can you hear me?” You grityour teeth and nod. “My leg hurts.” Joseph looks down and gasps. “Son of aBiscuit Eater! We have to get you to hospital.” He pulls out his phone. “I’drather not move you myself. There could be something with your spine or yourneck!” You reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrist. Joseph pauses inhis frenzy and takes a deep breath. “You’re right, panicking won’t help anyone.Don’t worry, the ambulance will be here soon.” He turns your hand over andlaces your fingers together.

☕ It takes what felt like years before you hear the front doorbeing opened. “Baby, I’m home.” Mat announces. With great effort, you raiseyour arm and wave from where you lie behind Mat’s couch. “Help?” A few secondslater, Mat is kneeling next to you, checking your body over with frantictouches. You hiss when he applies pressure to your side. “Shit, I’m sorry, Ididn’t mean to hurt you.”“It’s okay.” You aimed for a casual tone of voice, but you’re in too much painfor that and it shows. One hand resting on your chest, Mat uses the other tofish out his phone. Throughout the phone call, his voice is shaking just asbadly as his hand, and you wish you could reach up and calm Mat down, butmoving hurts, so you avoid it as much as humanly possible. The moment Mat hangsup, he takes one of your hands in both his own and holds on tight. “What wereyou even doing with that ladder, babe?” Moving as little as possible, you jerkyour head upwards. He follows the movement and looks up toward the firststorey, where you already managed to hang up some chains of light that danglefrom the railings. When he lowers his gaze again, he’s smiling and squeezesyour hands. “You could have waited until I got home, babe.” Mat leans down andkisses you gently, making your pout go away again.

🌹 Damien,you know, won’t be home until later that day, thanks to work and whatnot andyou doubt you’ll be able to hold out until then. You have no idea what time itis, you lost track of it while decorating the house, so there’s a big chanceLucien is still at school and even if it is already late afternoon, he might beout with friends; but short of crawling to the house phone – ouch – he’s youronly hope. Clearing your throat, you shout for him. When there’s no reply aftera minute or so, you stop again. But then there’s the sound of footsteps andthen Lucien is standing in front of you. His gaze sweeps over the tinsel andlight chains before settling on you. To you, he looks mildly amused. “I’msurprised you didn’t hear the crash.” Lucien shrugs. “At least I heard youshouting. Want me to call Dad?” Damien would never let you hear the end of itif neither of you informed him, so you nod. You hear Damien pick up the phone,but not what he’s saying, at least not until Lucien dead-pan says, “Y/N felloff the ladder and broke his leg” and Damien’s voice picks up in volume. Lucienholds the phone away from his ears, before simply giving it to you. “—get offwork now, not until a colleague shows up to relieve me, at which point… Lucien?Lucien!”“It’s me, Dames,” you interrupt gently. Damien sighs loudly in relief. “Thankthe makers, you’re conscious! Lucien gave me such a fright, phrasing it likethat. I feared the worst! Do you require an ambulance?” You look down to yourleg and wince. “Probably.”“It would be best if I hung up, then, so Lucien can call it for you. As I said,I’m unfortunately unable to come immediately, but once there’s a replacement, Ishall drive to the hospital.” He sighs once more. “I really do need to tellLucien to watch his choice of words next time.”

🎣 Thankfully, Brian only went away to get some parts for his next project, you don’t even want to thinkabout how long you would have had to wait, had he gone to work. That way, ittakes half an hour, at most, before Brian comes back. “I’ll be right with you,”he calls out. “I’m going to put away my shopping real quick.” You open yourmouth to ask for help, but Brian’s already in the backyard, leaving you aloneonce more. Huffing in frustration, you wait until you hear the door, at whichpoint you don’t even give him the chance to close it before you yell, “Brian,help!” Even so, he doesn’t run to where you are, but takes his time. “What isit, Y/N? Did your arm get caught in the cookie jar again?” Brian laughs androunds the corner. You can pinpoint the exact moment he sees you. Brian freezesand takes in the scene in shock. “Did you fall off the ladder?” His amused grinmakes you scowl. “This isn’t funny, Brian, I think I broke my leg!”“You sure it’s not just bruissshit that is definitely broken.” You roll youreyes and glare. Brian, at least, has the decency to look sheepish as he kneelsbehind your head and supports it with one of his massive hands, using the otherto dial 911. “You could have told me you’re seriously hurt, Y/N! I thought youjust got into another one of your silly situations again.” He looks at theladder and then to the tinsel above you. “Next time you plan on climbing aladder, I’ll get you some protective gear.”

👟 You turn your head and lookover at River, who, thankfully, doesn’t seem traumatised from watching you fallor at least too busy playing with the thread of tinsel that’s dangling right inher reach. Despite the pain you’re in, her happy gurgling brings a smile toyour face. Watching her play is enough to keep you occupied until Craig returnsafter driving the twins to a friend’s place. You planned on taking advantage ofthe (almost) child-free house for a romantic evening, but with a broken leg,those plans are ruined. “Bro, I’m back!” Craig’s voice comes from the frontdoor. “No welcoming committee? It’s like you don’t love me, bro.”“I would,” you call out. “But I’m in a kind of situation here, bro.” You hearfootsteps, then Craig appears in the doorframe. “What happened here?” Hecrouches down in front of you and looks you over. When his gaze falls on yourleg, he winces. “Bro, why didn’t you call me? You need to get to the hospital.”You smile sheepishly. “May or may not have left that in the kitchen. River’smaking progress with her walking skills, but I doubt she’d make it that far andbe able to reach the counter.” Craig huffs out a laugh. “Not that I don’t have faith in my little bro, but she seems too distracted with the tinsel to beof big help anyway.” He puts his hands under your legs and your upper body andlifts you up, bridal-style. “Let’s get you to a doctor, bro. We can adjust ourplans for the evening.”

📖 There are worse things than waiting for a teacher tofinish work, you suppose. At least it won’t be hours until he finishes, unlesshe plans on grading papers or preparing some extra work for tomorrow. It seemsthe odds are in your favour, today, because it’s not too long – you’re onlyhalfway through your fifth time counting the ceiling tiles – before the frontdoor is opened. You turn your head as much as you can and find yourselfface-to-face… well, face-to-shoes with Hugo’s shoes. Craning your head further,you lift your eyes and smile up at him. “Hi. It looks worse than it is?” Hugoraises his eyebrows at you and puts down his briefcase down on the ground. “Really?Because to me it looks like someone tried to hang up the Christmas decorationall by himself and fell down the ladder. It seems like that someone also brokehis leg.” He gives you a pointed look. You wince. “Okay, then it’s as bad as itlooks. I’m… fine?” Hugo’s eyebrows wander up higher. “Fine, fine, I know Ishould have waited for someone to hold the ladder steady and not do it allalone, but I wanted to surprise you guys, and I’m really in pain, so please,could you please call me an ambulance or drive me there yourself?” Hugo’s facesoftens and he nods, bending down. Giving you fair warning, he lifts you upinto his arms and, once he has you steady and balanced, he carries you outside.Each movement and jostle hurts and makes you gasp. Hugo kisses your cheek. “It’sokay, it won’t hurt for long.” He suddenly smirks. “Don’t think you’re gettingout of a lecture so easily, though.” You groan.

- Mod Mare

[lu-undy]

Chapter 101 - SBT

Here it is!

"Mon Dieu…"

"Yeah…"

Both were laying in bed like starfish on a beach, panting and catching their breaths. 

"You… Surpassed yourself… mon amour…"

"Did you-?"

"Oui…" Lucien put a hand on his chest to catch his breath. 

"You did…?"

"Oui…!" Lucien insisted. 

"You sure?" 

"Mundy…!"

"But I didn't touch you, I just-?" Mundy put his forearm on his sweaty brow. 

"I know…" Lucien closed his eyes. "I… know… I just… you were hitting the right spot, if you need… details…"

"I was…? I had no idea… God…" 

"Were my cries… moans… and whimpers… not enough?"

"You're usually… quite vocal…" Mundy answered.

"It is the first time… that this happens…" 

Mundy had grabbed his bottle of water from the night table and offered it to Lucien. They both pushed themselves to sit and took turns drinking. 

"Merci, mon amour."

[Thank you, my love.]

"Yeah, you’re welcome, Lu'."

They sank down in the sheets and naturally, Lucien laid his head on Mundy's shoulder. The Aussie wrapped an arm around him. 

"But really, you… did the thing without you or me touchin' you?" 

"Technically, you were touching me, just not with your hands and not where you are thinking." They exchanged a smile. 

"Guess so, yeah…" Mundy's hand stroked his lover. "Uh, did you feel it as strongly as when I do it… properly?"

"Even more so. The fact that you or I were not touching me made it stronger, more intense."

"Oh, ok."

"Don't worry, I shall reciprocate next time." 

They exchanged a smile.

"Can't wait. Speakin' of waiting, I hope I didn't make you wait too long at the restaurant."

"Long enough to be approached by another man."

"Seriously?!" 

"Is this jealousy I sense?" Lucien smiled. 

"What the hell does he think he's doin'? Did he annoy you? Why didn't you tell me while we were there, I'd have had a word or two with him…" Mundy tightened the hug, protectively.

"It is fine, I let him have his way and when he was deep enough in his own grave, I ended him."

"What? What's that mean?" 

"I flirted back with him until…"

"Until?"

"Until I resumed my normal voice. You should have seen his face, he was livid." 

"Pfff…" 

They both shared a laugh. 

"Still, next time, you tell me, alright?" 

"And what would you have done?" 

"Don't know… I'd have told him the truth, that you're mine, and no one comes near you." 

"Possessive?"

"Protective, and maybe a bit possessive…"

"Territorial, I like that in you, mon loup."

Lucien snuggled against his lover who combed his long hair with his fingers.

"May I ask, do you prefer me shaved?" 

"I don't mind. I like both. And it's not like you're super hairy otherwise."

"Yet I felt it, you made love to me differently tonight." 

"Hm… Yeah, felt different… Still does, I mean, look at you! Lost a few years without the beard and all, and those stockings… Gosh…!"

"Are you calling me old?" Lucien teased. 

"Nah… Vintage." Mundy tried to save himself.

"Vintage means old for clothes, Mundy…" 

"Yeah well… I'm not makin' it better, aren't I?" 

"Non." Lucien chimed with a smile. 

"And now you're gonna bully me ‘cause I said you're old, right?"

"Exactement."

[Exactly.]

"Well, fuck me then…" 

"I'd rather you did it to me, but not just now." 

"I didn't mean it literally!"

"Didn't you?" Lucien teased. 

"Pfff…" He laughed and kissed his lover's brow while holding him tight. "Love you, doll." 

"I like this new nickname." 

"What?" 

"Doll." Lucien answered, looking up at his lover. 

"It's usually a sheila's pet name."

"I don't mind, I like the sound and the connotations of it." 

"Really? Like bein' a doll, eh?" Mundy cupped Lucien's cheek.

"I like being yours, without a doubt." 

"Y'know what?"

"Pray tell." 

"The more I know you, the more I'm surprised how much you like bein' uh… like… not dominant."

"Oh?" 

"When I met you, you were so arrogant, so self-confident, so… argh! I'd never have imagined you could be that soft and all."

"Is that an issue?" 

"No, not at all, on the contrary. I love when you're bein' like that. Shows you trust me an awful lot." 

"I do." Lucien confirmed and as his head rose and fell to the rhythm of Mundy's breath, his eyelids felt heavier and heavier. 

"Lu'...?" 

"Mh?" 

"Thanks for tonight, everythin' was perfect, just like you." Lucien smiled with his eyes closed. Mundy looked down at the both of them. "You not gonna remove your stockings?"

"I am way too tired."

"And sore, eh?" 

"Non, actually…"

"Oh? Thought it'd be hurtin'."

"You went slowly enough and you had prepared me plenty, mon amour." 

"Well, gotta do that again then, and maybe we can go for round two next time…?" 

"Gladly." 

"You'd let me… do it twice?" 

"Mh-hm." 

"Should've met you when I was in my twenties…" Mundy said. 

"Mh?"

"Because I was unstoppable back then."

Lucien's eyes snapped open. 

"Are you saying that…?" He asked. 

"Yup. Literally had a bit of a reputation for it." 

"Quoi?" Lucien asked, surprised and Mundy chuckled with his low, gravelly laughter. 

"Used to be like that. It passed when I got older." 

"I should have met you when you were in your twenties then…"

"What?" Mundy asked and Lucien closed his eyes on his shoulder again. 

"I was the same…" 

"Seriously?"

"There are rumours, or rather legends about me."

"What do they say?" 

"That I have as many children as the number of women who laid eyes on me." 

"What?!" 

"Other less uhm… naturally gifted spies spread those words around. And instead of harming me, they made my fame and reputation." 

"Pfff…" Mundy chuckled. "I'm laughin' both for the story and for your voice."

"What about it?" 

"You sound sleepy as hell." 

"Do you have any idea how long it took me to shave everywhere and prepare myself? It was exhausting…" 

"Aw, poor you… C'mere, doll, gimme a good night kissy, eh?" 

Lucien raised his head with his eyes still closed and pushed his lips on Mundy's. 

"There, g'night, gorgeous." 

"Bonne nuit, mon loup." 

Mundy adjusted the cover on them both and closed his eyes. 

-- A few days later --

"That's very sweet of you, Mum, thanks." 

"Bah, anythin' to help you, Micky!"

They were both in the living-room, sitting side by side on the sofa. Perle was lying on Caroline's lap and Soot, on Mundy's. 

"Will he be much longer?" She asked. 

"Uh…" Mundy looked at his watch. "A couple of hours more."

"Ah, alright." 

"And you, Mum, how's it goin' with Dad? Is he alright?" 

Caroline's smile faded slowly as she put her cup of tea back on the coffee table. 

"He… We aren't in the best of terms at the moment." 

"What's happenin'?"

She sighed. 

"It's your father… When you told him about Lucien and you, he was quite upset. He stayed angry for a few days. Then he went to see Maurice. When he came back, he was just… empty."

"Empty?"

"Yeah, always looking at nothing, doesn't talk much. Sometimes I catch him just sitting on the couch and just… doing nothing. He's not watching the television or listening to the radio. He's just sitting there by himself, staring at nothing, thinking about God knows what…"

"Did you try and talk to him?" Mundy asked. 

"Yeah, asked him if he was alright. He always says he's fine and carries on."

"When did he go and see Maurice?"

"More than a week ago now."

"Crikey... And does he say anything when you come and visit here?" 

"Nope. Nothin'. Not even a 'hey' or a 'hello' when I come back. It's like he's living alone."

"Gosh… I-I'm sorry, Mum."

"What for?"

"It's all my fault and it falls on you again, although…" Caroline was about to answer when she got surprised by Mundy's sentence not ending there. "Even if I'm very sorry that it happens to you cause you got nothing to do with this, I… I'm not gonna change anythin'."

"What d'you mean?"

"I guess Dad expects me to go back and apologise and-"

"No, of course not."

"What?"

"You say that as if you did in the past, but it's not true, Micky. Remember when you used to go with the van, huntin' for days on end? Even if he yelled at you, you never stopped." 

"Doesn't mean I felt happy about how I got along with Dad because of it." 

"I know. But I don't think he is expectin' you to come back and apologise. Apologise for what? You're bein' a good boy…" She cupped his cheek and smiled, to which he grinned back. "And look at your smile… Y'know, I told your Dad about this."

"About what?"

"I never saw you smile half as much as I see you do now, since you're with Lucien." 

"Oh, really?" 

"Yeah! And the way you look at him all makes sense now."

"Mum…!" Mundy felt embarrassed, he lowered his head and hunched his back. 

"Nothin' to be ashamed of, I find you cute…!" Mundy blushed. "I know we never talked about boys or girls, but if you ever need to, I'm here for you." She patted his back. 

"Yeah… Thanks, Mum."

"How's it going for you and your Lu', eh? Guess it's going strong from that blush on your face…?"

"I-I don't know if I can say… It's uh… "

"Come on…!" She pushed.

"Hold on, before I answer you, is there anythin' I can do to help you, Mum?"

"With what?"

"With Dad."

Caroline sighed. 

"Nah, you did all you had to do. It's shakin' the old man but he gotta take it, eh."

"Thanks, Mum." He leaned to her and she wrapped an arm around him. 

"It's normal, Micky. It took me a bit of time to get used to myself, but hey, I did it. But tell me now, what's up with your Lu', eh?" 

"Mum, he's… fantastic. He's just… He's better than blokes in movies and all… He's the best thing to have ever happened in my life." Mundy sighed, lovestruck.

"Aww, Micky…" Caroline looked at her son, leaning his head on her shoulder, and smiled. "Never seen you like that, baby." 

"Cause I never felt like that…!"

"What did he do?" 

"He took me out, in the Maravilhoso, y'know, the Brazilian place in town."

"Oh, yeah, the one with the yellow flashy lights, yeah?"

"Yeah, that one." 

"So you got some dinner there?"

"We went separately and uh… Gosh, when I saw him, I… I fell in love with him all over again… I don't even know if that makes sense but I was feelin' like at the beginnin', y'know? Knees went to jelly, mouth was dry and weird. Couldn't speak properly."

"It does make a lot of sense, Micky. I felt that twice in my life."

"Oh, when?" 

"First, when your father accepted to take you in with me and raise you. The second time was when we changed our name, after the fire. I guess Maurice told you our new name, didn't he?"

"No, he didn't actually. Said I should ask you, back when I asked him."

Caroline smiled. 

"We sat with your father and took a long time to think. Maurice said to take something completely different from Turner, but also, something we'd recognise instantly. It'd be odd if someone called us by our names but none of us reacted, eh?"

"What did you go for in the end?" Mundy asked. 

Caroline grinned sweetly and raised her hazel eyes to her son.

"Mundee." 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"Really? Mundy?"

"Yeah, but spelt with double 'e' in the end, instead of 'y'." 

Mundy hugged his mother. 

"Guess you came up with the name, eh?" He asked.

"I think I did, I can't remember exactly now. But I remember that we both agreed without thinking. Anytime someone says 'Mr Mundee' or 'Mrs Mundee', I think of you and say a little prayer for you in my heart, baby." She hugged him back.

"Thank you so much…"

"Been missing you and your adorable smile, Micky. But I'm so happy now that you've found some peace." 

"Yeah, well… Doesn't seem fair. I get peace but Dad doesn't… By the way, why did he go and see Maurice? Was it just about Lu' and me?" 

"Nah, I'm pushin' him to change our name back to Turner. Feels weird not to have the same last name as you. Besides, that bad man's dead. Time for us to become Turners again. Also, we told the rest of the family that we uh… We actually were alive. We wanted to let them know and then maybe see them. It's a bit of a drive to go there, but it'd be nice to do it, at least for next Christmas, like we used to."

"How are they?" 

"They thought it was a bad prank and called the police on us…"

"You serious?" Mundy exclaimed.

"Yeah, and I understand. Imagine if I had called you to tell you the truth. You'd have picked up the phone and heard someone with your Dad's voice tellin' you we were alive. You'd have wondered who the hell is playin' a bad prank on you." She paused to catch her breath. "So I told your father to not call again, it was a bad idea to say such stuff not in person. But he insisted and called them again; got angry at them for not believin' him even. Next thing we knew, the police were knocking on the door. We explained everythin' and of course they didn't believe us. Took them days to come back to us and understand."

"Gosh… I'm sorry you had to go through all that mess. Your nerves are alright?" Mundy looked at his mother with worried eyes. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess it's their nerves that took a slap, eh? Thank you, sweetie, for worryin', but I'm fine. Since you came back and that awful man's dead, I feel much stronger."

"Good to hear. Although, I'd prefer it if Dad was feelin' alright too…" Mundy lowered his head.

"Hey, baby…" She put a hand on his shoulder. "Not your fault, nothin' you can do about it. Let the old man think. He loves you, in his own way. He needs to find his new place."

"His new place?" 

"It's like the news you told him took him outside of himself. He needs time to find a new balance, a new place in his own head to accept all this. It's takin' him a long time, but your old man hates to change his habits; always been like that." 

"D'you think he will one day?" 

Their eyes met. 

"I hope so. It's sad enough to see him wanderin' in his own head, his eyes tired and empty."

"I'm sorry, Mum." 

"Don't be. He was there for me when I was low and now, I am here for him when he is. That's the vows we took, all those years ago." She smiled at her son. "It's easy to love when everything's fine. You truly love someone when nothing's fine but you stick to them nonetheless." 

He grinned back. 

"I think you're right, Mum." 

"Of course I am!" 

They chuckled and the cats slipped out of their laps. They trotted to the door and meowed repeatedly. 

"Ah, that'd be Lu'."

A split second after, the sound of a key on a lock and soon, the door opened. 

"Meow! Meow! Meow!" 

"Bonjour, mes bébés…! Attendez, je veux rentrer, attendez…!" 

[Hello, my babies…! Wait, I need to come inside, hold on…!]

Lucien shut the door after him and knelt down for the cats to drown him in headbutts, slow blinks and purrs. He let them have their way with him and dealt kisses and scratches, left and right.

"Mundy? Mon amour? I am home!" He announced from the entrance and Mundy blushed at the pet name being used in front of his mother.

"Yeah, come in, Lu', Mum's here…!" 

Lucien removed his shoes and jacket before joining mother and son. 

"Bonjour, Caroline, my apologies, I did not know you were here." He extended a hand to her but she pulled him into a hug, which the Frenchman reciprocated. 

"Hey, Lu'..." 

"Mundy…" 

They played it safe with a hug and some hand holding, out of respect for Mundy's mother. 

"You sit here, Lu'," Caroline said. "I'll go and get you a cup to get some tea with us."

"Please, Caroline, I can go and-"

"Mum, I can-"

"Sit! The both of you be good boys now and listen, yeah? I'll go and get you a cup. You're home from work, you're tired. You have a minute or so, I'll be back." Caroline's assertive, motherly voice shut both the men up and she did what she just said. 

"Mon amour, ça va? How have you been?" Lucien whispered. 

[My love, how are you?]

"Yeah, alright. Mum's visited me like that, we didn't really organise anythin'. That's why I didn't tell you anythin', sorry, luv'." 

"Please…" Lucien put a hand on his cheek. "There is no harm done. I like your mother, she is lovely." 

"Thanks, luv'." 

"How is she?"

"She told me that -"

"Here we are, boys…! A nice cup for you, Lu'. Ya don't mind if I call you, Lu', do you?"

"Not at all, I am honoured." He answered with a smile and gently bowed as he accepted the cup of tea that Caroline was handing him. 

"Aw, such a good boy…" 

"I was just asking Mundy how you were." Lucien said as he took a sip. 

"Not too bad, yeah." 

"Caroline, if I may…" 

"Yeah?"

Lucien put the cup down on the coffee table. 

"Your beautiful eyes don't shine as I know them to shine."

"Ooh, flatterer!" Caroline blushed. 

"What is on your mind? Is it something that we can help with?" Lucien offered. 

"Not really… It's Mike, he's a bit stuck on that last chat you guys had."

"I am sorry to see that it affects not only him, but also your sleep." 

Her eyebrows jumped and she looked at Mundy with question marks in her eyes. 

"Ex-spy, Mum, he can read stuff like that on your face like it's written in French…!" Mundy answered.

"Well, that's a surprise…" Caroline said. "But yeah, Mike's low mood is gettin' to me a bit. Nothing you lovely boys can do, though. It'll pass, I don't imagine him bein' stuck like that forever."

"If we can do anything, please let us know." Lucien put his hand on hers, on her lap, and Perle jumped on the sofa to brush herself on her grandmother.

"Meow…" 

"Thank you, all of you but it's fine, I promise. It's just makin' him wonder about a lot of things. We gotta give him some time, is all." She concluded. "But what about you boys?" 

"As you wish." Lucien answered. "Mundy must have told you, not much has happened since the last time you graced us with your presence."

"Oh, no, on the contrary!" She answered and both Lucien and Mundy's eyebrows jumped. "Micky told me he fell in love with you again!"

"Mum!" Mundy blushed to his ears and Lucien smiled.

"Yeah, you did…!" Caroline carried Perle like a baby in her arms and went to the coat hanger. She freed the lady cat who nonetheless stuck to her and meowed repeatedly. "Now, I'd better go back to my old Mike. Don't like to leave him alone too long."

"But of course." Lucien and Mundy went to the entrance. Lucien gave Mundy his mother's jacket and gestured to him to help her wear it. 

"Oh, yeah, here Mum…" 

"Good boy… Now, you two behave, yeah?"

"Meow! Meow! Meow!" 

"You too, babies…" She bent down to scratch Perle and Soot who were rubbing themselves on her. 

"See ya, Mum, and you be careful out there, yeah?" 

"Yeah, and see ya, boys." She hugged them one by one and left. 

"Your mother is absolutely charming." 

"Oi, watch it… She's my mum, eh?" 

"Don't worry, it's the son who stole my heart." Lucien smiled and came closer to his lover, splaying his hands on his chest.

"Glad to know…" Mundy hugged his lover and his hands slid down on his back until they slid in his back pockets.

"I see someone has been missing me."

"Course, I have. Y'know, I was - oh?" 

Both froze for a second when they heard a screeching meow from upstairs. They let go of each other and towards where the sound had come from. Mundy arrived first and opened the door to the cat room.

“Oh, bugger…” He shut the door straight.

“What is it?!” Lucien wanted to push Mundy aside.

“N-no, not now, Lu’...!” Mundy blocked the door and the cat screeching resounded again.

“That was Perle crying! What is wrong with her?! Let me help her!”

“Lu’! No! There’s nothing wrong with her, she… Soot and her need a minute…”

“Why?! What is happening there?!”

“They…” Mundy took Lucien’s head between his palms and put his lips next to his ears. “We might be grandpas again…”

“Oh…”

[it-is-bugs]

TDBM 5.6 Thinkie Thoughts

Happy Blake Day!

Which means I have recap little details from last week's episode to sort things in my mind before new data is added.  

It's apparently been several weeks since Lucien's stabbing.  He's in full sulky baby mode. Maudlin playing of piano, griping at Lawson, mixing alcohol and pain pills. No wonder Jean lets him go back to work.

I do like Casual Clothing Lucien, be the vision so brief.  

I wince when he draws all over his anatomy chart.  Imagine being his next patient and seeing the human body marked up like an autopsy report.  

"I'm not your mother, Lucien."  Yes you are, Jean, not that there's anything wrong with that.  How many times does she sound like his mother in the episode?  "Go back to bed, Lucien!"  

Poor Alice is still learning her social cues.  She reads Jean's horror at the photos as awe and gloats that she used the dark room at the Courier.

"I'm coming with you!" and Jean tags along to the morgue.  But it's not like helping him look under a car. Yes, Jean's found half the murder victims, but it's one thing to find a dead body. An autopsy is another thing; this is horrifying. And who else does she know who were tortured? "Someone made her suffer over and over before she was..."  There's also the matter of her recent reminder of her lost daughter, and here's a young woman, dead before her chance to escape her horrors.  

Another Mum moment when Jean decides Lucien should have eggs for breakfast; build up his strength.  

More Mum when she chastises Lucien not to burn himself with the iron.

SOMEONE promised me a graphic of Lucien ironing his wrinkled old man balls.  

And there are the gray/lavender trousers!  They look gray here....

Why are there so many awful educators in Ballarat??  Child molesters, child beaters, educators condoning bullying, teachers having inappropriate relations with students who're barely legal. Perhaps Thomas sent Lucien away for completely different reasons than we thought.  Get him away from these schools!

Matthew saying about teenage daughters' ways: "Afraid I wouldn't know."  The mystery of his family deepens.   

I like Jean's line, "Why don't you wear something more comfortable?"  So he sees his suits as his work uniform, which I guess makes sense for a career military man. I just wonder if he'll ever get a style upgrade.  Jean has this season.  When's his turn?  Although I'm imagining One of Those Conversations when they're married, and Jean tries to get him into new suits. "These suits have plenty of wear left!  Why would I want new?"  

I shouldn't laugh since it's a serious topic, but LOL at the abortion clinic clients rushing from the place as the police show up!  How nice that the two customers have their boyfriends with them.

I was surprised that Rose suddenly gained a friend but then it was just a plot point.

I also know that Rose kissed Lucien goodbye as a plot point, but it felt odd.  

If AM doesn't learn how to hold and use a SLR camera before the end of the series, I'm going to fly over there and kick her ass!  

Charlie still trying to get his vibe in his new role.  "I was pretty hard on him."  My wild speculation is that Charlie is actually going to be the source of the end of series angst as he tries too hard to fit into his role.  

Did Lucien give flowers from a killer and abortionist to Jean?  

I wanted to transcript some of Lucien's dialogue because I think there's a lot of information about his current mindset.  To Dad of Dead Girl:

"So you're not going to care about anything else ever again is that it?  Losing your family, Robert, it's enough to make any man shut himself off from the world.  But it makes for a very...very lonely life, believe me."  

On the bridge, where once again, Lucien has to talk a suicidal person down:  

Robert: "I was supposed to protect her.  I failed."

"I opted for a slightly different approach when I thought I'd' lost my wife and daughter.  It was wartime.  I volunteered for every dangerous assignment going. I survived so I tried drinking myself to death. Turns out I was a hell of a drinker.  Didn't kill me but by God, I gave it my best shot.  

It took a long, long time to be glad I didn't do what I wanted to do back then.  But I am glad, Robert. I'm so very glad.  It is possible to find a life again.  I know.  But you have to want it."

There's great irony in Lucien speaking of his drinking being in the past tense, when it's not going to be under a glaring spotlight.  

Jean and Lucien, at the end of the episode in the kitchen:

Lucien: "I know only too well the dark place he's gone to."  

And I think here he was getting ready to confess: "Jean, I've made things ever so difficult for you. But I want you to know I'm trying to make things better."  Here's where he has the flashback to posting the affidavit.  But before he can be specific, she says super nice thing, then says 'we' are going to make our decision together, and he chickens out.  He's grown a lot emotionally from the man who couldn't even properly ask her to stay in S3 "You'll always have a job here, Jean." but he's so afraid of losing what little happiness he's gained.