#lucien would watch mission impossible

[the-lonelybarricade]

What Do You Know About Love? - (1/?)

Summary: When Elain discovers a centuries old love letter, written in secret and never sent, she decides that she's going to be the one to finally deliver it. Even if finding its intended recipient means going on a mission with Lucien Vanserra. Set post ACoSF.

A contribution to @elucienweekofficial Day 1: Fated!

Chapter 1 - The Tide of Destiny

Read on AO3

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The sea was never particularly calming to Elain.

And in her bedroom in Velaris, no matter how desperately she tried, she couldn’t escape its call.

As a human, the distance between the docks and the river house would have rendered its sound indiscernible. But with her sensitive fae hearing, the sea leaked through her window—despite how firmly she’d shut it before going to bed. She’d woken to its sound, how it stirred something restless and uncertain inside her.

Now, engulfed in the darkness of her drawn bed curtains, she could hear the waves lapping against the seaside on the other side of the city. She knew that if she shut her eyes, if she tried to go back to sleep, it would be impossible to distinguish between her bedroom and the shore. Some nights she would hear the swelling tide and dart upwards with a gasp, convinced it would crash over the sheets and drag her into its dark, bottomless depths.

Some nights, like tonight, she convinced herself it was not the sea calling to her at all—it was the lapping waters of the Cauldron, intent on dragging her back into its icy shackles to strip and tear at her humanity again.

Madja had once suggested that when those fears became potent, Elain could try summoning pleasant memories of the sea, instead. And as Elain stayed up trembling in bed that night, she tried to muster happy memories. She did.

Their family once lived at a charming manor by the sea. It should have been easy to think of just one moment of joy. She didn’t consider those years unhappy, though when raking her memory for anything relating to the sea itself, she could only recall one particularly unhappy day.

She remembered the smell of salty air, borne partially from the wind that blew off the harbor and stopped to tangle in her curls, but also from the tears wetting her cheeks. They worsened the longer she stared at the dockworkers hauling supply crates across the gangplank and onto The Asphodelos, her father’s merchant ship. It was the day he was leaving on a three month voyage to the continent.

Elain stood at the dockside, her favorite doll clutched tightly to her chest, and watched with wide, watery eyes as the crew raised one of the anchors at the bow of the ship. Summoned by the rattling chains, two dark claws raised from the inky surface as if a great creature had scooped at the bottom of the harbor to reveal a handful of dripping, oily sediment.

She wondered if the same creature didn’t reach into the depths of her chest, dredging up an emotion so thick and black it surely belonged at the bottom of the seabed.

In their father’s absence, Elain and her sisters would be handed to the company of their Grandmamma, governess, and nursemaids while their mother enjoyed her newfound liberties—as she called it—by making all number of visits to friends and distant relatives. During that time, Nesta would be swept away by their Grandmamma, who insisted on seizing the opportunity to offer her tutelage, and Feyre would be more inclined to run barefoot through the gardens than attend Elain’s tea parties.

Elain’s only true company would be in the form of her pink-cheeked, browned haired doll, which was a gift her father had brought from his last voyage to the continent. That was Elain’s only comfort as their family stood at the dockside to see him off—that in a matter of months, he might return with another friend from a faraway land and a fantastical story she would beg him to repeat until it was renewed during his next epic adventure.

So unlike Nesta, Elain wasn’t scowling towards their father’s back, furious with him for leaving. Nor was she like Feyre, squirming on the hip of their nursemaid, the elderly woman’s arms tightly locked around the youngest Archeron’s lithe frame to keep her from dashing down the docks and pitching over the side. Feyre was always far more interested in climbing atop places she shouldn’t than appreciating the sentiment of the occasion.

But Elain—she stared out with eyes fixed on her father and edged as close to the water as the frayed rope would allow. She clutched her doll against her chest in an attempt to soothe the ache building beneath it. Soon, their father would walk over and kiss each of them farewell, and Elain would watch his ship until its billowing sails faded into the horizon.

It was as they were waiting on a dock that a man lugging a barrel of sloshing liquid shouted at their family to move aside. Their mother grasped the sleeve of Elain’s dress, yanking her back with such force that the doll slipped from Elain’s grasp and plummeted into the dark water below.

Her tears were instantaneous—small, hiccuping sobs that surged into wails the second she registered that no one was moving to retrieve the doll. The crew continued loading the ship, oblivious or uncaring, while Elain’s mother scrunched her nose and nudged Elain toward the nursemaid holding Feyre.

The nursemaid gave a cooing noise and shifted Feyre on her hip so that she could extend one plump arm to Elain, drawing her closer with a soft hand at the back of her head. Elain clutched the skirts of her nursemaid's dress and barrelled forward to smother her tears against the fabric.

“What’s happened?”

Recognizing her father’s voice, Elain lifted her head with a weak sniffle.

“Wee thing’s lost her doll,” answered the nursemaid, rubbing a soothing circle into the center of Elain’s back. “Plopped straight into the water, it did.”

“Oh, my dear Elain.” Their father dropped to one knee, meeting Elain’s height so that he could carefully take one of her much smaller hands into his own. “Don’t fret,” he soothed, reaching to chase away a few of the tears rolling down her cheeks. “The things we lose are never truly gone. Have patience, and perhaps one day your doll will find its way back to you.”

Fortunately, Elain was a patient child. And she happened to excel at listening to her father. With her tears abated, she nodded and waited the many weeks of her father’s voyage. Upon his return, he brandished a beautiful doll from behind his back.

See, Elain? I found her on the continent. The tides must have carried her there, so that she could be reunited with you.

Elain’s doll had bright, clever brown eyes, much like her own. But the one she was handed from her father had eyes like a frozen lake, more like her sisters Nesta and Feyre. She noticed this, and frowned, but accepted the doll anyway.

She learned that sometimes lost things do come back, but not quite the same as they once were.

Now, sitting in the dark of her bedroom with nothing else to occupy her mind, Elain pulled at the aching threads of all the things she’d lost that would never come back. Her mother, her father, her human life.

Graysen.

The sting of that name lessened with time, but it was not so reduced that she didn’t hiss through her teeth as it clanged through her.

Deciding she would never get any sleep in this state of mind, Elain threw the blankets open and scrambled off the bed. The Inner Circle would likely still be awake. They’d all kept odd hours since Nyx was born and she often heard their laughter drifting through the floorbeds well past midnight. She knew that one member, in particular, rarely slept at all.

That thought nearly convinced her to stay inside her room. She didn’t wish to see any of them, not at the moment, and least of all…

Elain shrugged on a robe and hastily tied it around her waist, resolving that she was unlikely to encounter anyone on the way to the library. And in there, she could sit and read and sip tea until her exhaustion overpowered her agitation.

It was a good plan. It might have been effective, if she hadn’t been drawn short halfway down the hall by the sight of a tall male standing at the far end of the corridor, staring at a piece of fabric in his hand.

He lifted his head at her approach, and froze the moment he saw her. He was wearing his hair bound, all of it tied in a scarlet knot at the back of his head. She was used to seeing it down, spilling like ringlets of flame over his shoulders and always partially covering the brutal, slashing scar through his left eye. She didn’t know what to make of the sight of his face, completely unobstructed.

Every time Elain saw him, it was like being struck in the stomach. She couldn’t breathe—and if she did, it would mean inhaling his scent and making the whole ordeal of looking at him infinitely, insufferably worse.

“Elain,” he said. His eyes—one russet and one mechanical—scraped over her, scrutinizing every detail.

She hated how he said her name. Always on a breath, like he was being struck in the stomach at the sight of her, too.

The same emotions played out over his face that she felt waring deep in her chest—surprise, delight, uneasiness. She didn’t know he’d be here. Feyre usually warned her in advance of his visits, and even then it was odd for him to be here so late in the evening, when he had his own apartment to retire to.

Lucien cleared his throat, breaking both of them from their trance. “Having difficulty sleeping, Lady?”

There was an edge to his voice that caused Elain to shift onto her backfoot. She didn’t know why he was asking, when he would already know through whatever perverse magic tied them together. The same way she knew when he was sleeping. Or when he was extraordinarily happy, which was rare. And extraordinarily sad, which was often.

He would know in the same way she knew that in this very moment, though it perplexed her, Lucien Vanserra was seething with anger.

If not for the mating bond announcing his every extreme emotion, she still would have been able to read it plainly on his face. His red brows were pinched together, his teeth gritted, and the fabric in his hand, which he’d been staring at with alarming intensity before she’d gotten there, was gripped so tightly that each of his brown knuckles turned a soft pale color.

A dozen questions flitted through her mind. She wasn’t sure which to ask him, which he would answer. Questions were tedious. They could imply interest where there was none, or venture their conversation towards truths she was in no state to hear.

She settled with, “I didn’t know you were in Velaris.”

He crumpled the fabric in his hand until it was obscured entirely within his fist. “I winnowed in an hour ago.”

Elain’s pulse jumped in her throat. “Why so late?”

The last time Lucien had been summoned to Velaris with such urgency, it was after Feyre had nearly died in childbirth. If there was an emergency, surely someone would have come to wake her?

Lucien shifted, glancing at his closed fist as if waging some internal conflict. Then he released a long breath. “Rhysand wanted to meet at this hour—he requested discretion.”

Discretion from who? No one in the house would be asleep at this time. No one besides…

She chewed her lip, uncertain if she should be affronted. Did Rhysand think he was doing her a favor by summoning Lucien at this hour, so that they needn’t encounter each other? Or—and she knew in her heart it was more likely—Feyre and her husband were deliberately hiding something from her. If she asked Lucien, would he reveal it to her? Would she even want to know?

“If you’re trying to be discreet,” she asked, trying to make her voice sound light, “then why have I found you wandering around upstairs where anyone might find you?”

Lucien looked at her then, with an understanding that made her want to shrivel inside herself. She thought he would say that he knew. That he’d felt her panic, and knew that she would be awake, wandering the halls to escape the waves roaring in her ear.

Instead he held up his fist, opening it to reveal a balled-up handkerchief. “I found this,” he said. “I presume it belongs to you.”

He extended it to her and Elain retrieved it warily, careful to only touch the fabric and not any part of his skin. The last time she’d accidentally brushed her fingers against his, it’d felt as if she’d plunged them into an open flame. It wasn’t a sensation she’d been able to forget.

Once it was safely in her possession, Elain smoothed her thumb across the fabric and studied the brocade pattern woven into the wine-colored silk. The embroidered E in the corner certainly seemed to suggest it belonged to her, but Elain didn’t own a handkerchief this color. Nor did she make a habit of embroidering her belongings. Its texture was not familiar to her, either—slightly rougher than silk, though smoother than any cotton she’d felt between her fingers before.

“Where did you find this?” She asked.

“So it is yours, then?”

He sounded angry again. Elain lifted her eyes to see that he was studying her, searching for the answer to some deeper question he didn’t dare voice.

A muscle feathered in this jaw. He glanced down the hall, ensuring they were alone, before he added in a low voice, “I found it outside the Shadowsinger’s bedroom.”

Aware that her reaction was being monitored carefully, and risked confirming the accusations already tangible in his words, Elain kept her expression perfectly neutral. She thumbed at the E in the corner, wondering if it was perhaps a gift from Azriel, and she was its intended recipient.

It would be odd if it was—Azriel had barely spoken to her since the Solstice. From what she’d gauged of the shadowsinger, his bouts of silence were not unusual, but whatever lingering glances had once existed between them seized the moment she returned the rose necklace to him.

No. Sooner than that.

This was a mistake.

Even now, months later, those words burned inside her. She folded the handkerchief and held it back towards him, deciding she didn’t care if it was a gift. Just like the necklace, she’d return it.

“It’s not mine,” she said. “You can put it back wherever you found it.”

Lucien arched his scar-slit brow. She knew he didn’t believe her, and that the evidence was certainly incriminating. There was no one else by that initial who lived in this house, not unless there was a new servant who happened to drop it.

It caused her to wonder if Azriel had planted the handkerchief intentionally. Either to get under Lucien’s skin, or in the hopes that Elain would find it, and it would lead to another clandestine meeting. Where she would knock on his door and be again swept into those deep hazel eyes, and perhaps would feel so consumed by his churning, unspoken anguish that she would forget his hurtful words.

Or perhaps… There was not a scheme afoot at all, and this was simply the souvenir of a new lover.

Lucien crossed his arms, making no move to retrieve the handkerchief. “And where exactly were you headed at this hour?”

He jerked his chin the direction she’d been heading, a passageway which forked two directions. On one end, to the library, and on the other… to Azriel’s room.

Elain’s cheeks burned in outrage. “I was going to the library.”

“In your nightgown?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she said. “You’re not my keeper. And I haven’t seen or heard from you in months.”

Lucien drew back, as if she’d struck him. His expressions hardened, then smoothed—the way a river could strip a rock of all of its jagged edges.

“You’re right, Lady.” That was his courtier’s voice, distant and detached from the emotion she knew was churning inside him. “My apologies. I’ll leave you to carry on to the library.”

His apology only stoked her anger, enough that she wanted to claw deeper. She drew the handkerchief to her chest and stepped past him with a clipped, “Thank you for returning this to me.”

The scent of woodsmoke and clove coiled around her as she darted past, a hidden snare that almost caught her, willing her to turn around and tell him the truth. She held her breath instead, glaring down the hall as though the Cauldron was sitting at its end, taunting her.

She could feel Lucien’s eyes trailing her until she disappeared behind the corridor. And the moment his scent faded, and she could no longer count the metronome of his heartbeat, the sea swept back in.

That was what sent Elain veering away from the library. Without thinking, or stopping to listen to the hushed voices as she passed Rhysand’s study, Elain stormed down the stairs and pushed out the door into the streets of Velaris. With only a coat shrugged over her nightgown, she was woefully underdressed, but she was desperate to go somewhere, anywhere, that would distract from all the scents and sounds and questions swirling in her mind.

Did Azriel know that Lucien would be coming? Did she care? It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Lucien angry with her. And given how they’d last parted, it was no surprise there would be tension between them.

As she strode through the empty marketplace, the memory of the icy words they last exchanged crept into the periphery of her thoughts, like the frost she spied climbing over the glass of the shop window in front of her.

In its reflection, a pink-cheeked female was taking great, huffing breaths. Her golden-brown curls were windswept from the cool breeze, the bite of which promised winter in the weeks to come. Altogether, she looked far more flustered and agitated than a composed lady ought to be.

It was just—It’d been so long since she’d last heard his voice and felt the onslaught of her body’s reaction to his presence. She’d been underprepared, and he’d pushed all the right buttons to prod her into an anger equal to his own. That was all.

Elain shook her head, forcibly pushing away the shards of memory that plagued her—present and past and future, blending together. Scarlet hair and sneering lips and the taste of fire scalding her tongue. With her cursed visions, she was used to cobwebs of would-bes and half-truths plaguing her mind, but the heated flashes of her mate were more difficult to dismiss. Especially when he was in Velaris, starting fights with her in the hallway.

With a deep breath, she practiced the grounding techniques she’d spoken about with Madja.

What was beneath her? The firm, cobbled street, glowing against the small bulbs of faelights strung from roof to roof.

What was above her? A dark, overcast sky—rare for Velaris, and likely another indication that the mild autumn weather was coming to its end. Though the red and amber leaves gilding the city’s landscape were pretty, she was happy to think they’d soon be swept away with the winter. The sight of them made her chest ache.

What was in front of her? Her own reflection, blinking through the window of a shop that—looking past her squinting image—appeared to sell an eccentric collection of trinkets. She spied a snow globe sitting upon a stack of books, which precariously supported a leaning portrait of an amphibian faerie in the nude, draped in jewels whilst being hand-fed a basket of red berries.

It was an odd painting to be advertising in the storefront window, but it was certainly effective in knocking Elain from her bad mood. She wandered to the shop’s entrance, and was delighted to see that a small desk light was lit inside and a sign hung over the entrance, stating: OPEN (to those who seek)

Seized with curiosity, Elain grabbed the silver handle and tested the knob, just to make sure it wasn’t locked.

The bell above the door frame trilled a high-pitched greeting, announcing her entrance to the shopkeeper sitting behind a large desk, piled high with odds and ends of which Elain could find no discernible pattern. The faerie was sorting through a box of ribbons all in various colors and stages of condition, so immersed in the task at hand that she didn’t seem to notice Elain’s entrance, despite being the only patron in the otherwise empty shop.

After providing what felt to be a polite amount of time to finish the task, Elain said, “Excuse me, is this store open?”

Not looking up from the two frayed ribbons she was untangling in her hands, one a vivid scarlet red and the other a vibrant yellow, the shopkeeper asked, “Have you found something lost or lost something found?”

Elain blinked. “Pardon?”

With a heavy sigh, the faerie dropped the ribbons back in the box. “This is a place of trade,” she said, gesturing with a purple hand towards the strange collection of items at her desk. “Not a shop.”

“And you trade… lost objects?”

The faerie nodded, causing a lock of the snow-white hair wreathed at the top of her head to fall over one of her slitted black eyes. She petulantly batted it behind her fin-shaped ear before pinning Elain with a wild, jagged-toothed smile, “Would you like to look at my wares?”

“I have nothing to trade,” Elain said, sweeping her eyes over the items nonetheless. There was a box of quills, most of which looked to be used, the feathers worn and bent. “How do you trade something you’ve already lost?”

“You don’t,” said the shopkeeper plainly. “You trade something you found. And if you’re looking for something you’ve lost, well, you might find it here.”

Most of the things Elain had lost recently couldn’t be traded in a shop. Even so, she wandered across the store, marveling at the shelves of children’s toys. Dolls and plush animals and spinning tops. She considered getting something to bring back for Nyx, but was deterred by the thought that the children these items once belonged to might return to the shop.

She asked, “How do you know if you’re trading something to its rightful owner?”

The shopkeeper hummed. “I always know.”

Elain took that to mean the shopkeeper didn’t care, so long as she was receiving an item of equal value in exchange. But then… how did she make any profit? Her head spun trying to make sense of it, before she reminded herself that trying to make sense of the fae was a tedious and unrewarding task. Often, they made no rational sense at all, and that was just the way they preferred things.

“I don’t think there’s anything here for me,” she said. “I appreciate you letting me look.”

“Nonsense,” the shopkeeper said, now having moved on from the ribbons to arrange stacks of playing cards. “In all my centuries running this trading post, no one has ever wandered in without something to find. Keep looking.”

Elain was beginning to feel flustered, and wondered briefly if she was the lost thing. “Even if I did find something, I have nothing to trade.”

“Nonsense.”

Elain huffed, turning away from the shopkeeper. What if she didn’t want anything in this cursed little shop? Surely she wouldn’t be kept from leaving without buying something? If that was the case, Elain would certainly have words to share with Rhysand about how this shop was run.

She thought about sharing with the shopkeeper that she was the High Lady’s sister, when the sight of a porcelain doll caught her eye. Elain gasped.

“Find something?” The shopkeeper crooned.

It couldn’t be. The doll she’d lost as a little girl was drifting somewhere in the ocean. And even if it had been retrieved, it would not look like the one before her, all smooth, glistening ivory and perfectly clean golden-brown locks of hair. Elain carefully lifted the doll from the shelf, staring into those bright, clever brown eyes. Much like her own.

Was it a trick? A memory plucked from her mind? She glanced over at the shopkeeper, still tirelessly counting and arranging cards. There didn’t seem to be anything predatory about her knowing smile. But it was knowing.

Elain set the doll back on the shelf. It wasn’t hers, just one of the same make. That was the only explanation she could draw for how it ended up here. As she withdrew her hands, her fingers brushed the sides of a wooden box, and she jerked back when a soft, mechanical tink answered her touch.

The shopkeeper paused her counting.

“Sorry,” Elain breathed, pressing a hand to her chest to steady her thundering heart. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

An unimpressed raised brow was her only response. Elain turned back to the box, frowning. It was of simple, plain-looking make, the wood smooth and polished on all sides. She pushed up the top, and her breath hitched when a carving of a small female dancer sprung up from inside. Acting of their own volition, Elain’s fingers sought the underside of the box to find a winding mechanism, twisting the small knob there as if they knew precisely what this box was for, what it did.

The world seemed to still the moment Elain released her fingers, every sleeping doll and ancient tome in the small shop waking to listen as the small wooden dancer began twisting on a single posed foot. As she moved, the box began emitting a slow, mechanically plucked out melody.

Each note hung and lingered, carving its way through the air with a sharpness that demanded to be heard. Elain didn’t so much as breathe in fear of disturbing its song, allowing it to curl around her, tugging at the cusp of a memory. She swore she’d heard it before, though she struggled to place when or where. If she closed her eyes, it evoked an image of a summer garden, draped in moonlight. Her fingers tingled with the feeling of a warm hand, wrapped in hers. And her chest… her chest ached with a sorrow so heavy it could pull down the stars.

It was so at odds with the happy, smiling dancer who twirled and twirled without a care in the world. Though the box itself was light, its weight became more significant the longer the song played, as though it were carrying its grief in the bones of its wood. She could feel it calling to her, an echo to the song of lost love she had been carrying in her own chest.

“Interesting,” the shopkeeper said. “That box has sat untouched in my shop for nearly three centuries. I’ve always wondered who would come to claim it one day.”

“Oh—” Elain sniffed and hastily wiped at a tear slipping down her cheek. She didn’t know when she’d started crying. “This isn’t mine.”

The shopkeeper shrugged. “Sometimes we find lost things and sometimes lost things find us.”

“I can’t—”

“It called to you,” the shopkeeper insisted. “Which means it’s been found. So it’s no longer lost. And since this is a place for lost things, it can’t stay in the shop any longer. Either take it, or I’ll throw it out.”

For some reason, the thought of the box being thrown out was horrifying to Elain. Surely it must have meant a great deal to someone at some point. She said softly, “But I don’t have anything to trade in return.”

“No?” The shopkeeper cocked her head. “Nothing in your pockets?”

She was fishing for coin, no doubt, but Elain realized she did have something in her pockets. Something that was found.

Numbly, she withdrew the handkerchief she’d been given by Lucien.

The shopkeeper grinned ear-to-ear and pointed to a bin just behind Elain. “That will do perfectly. Add it to the box.”

Indeed, behind her shoulder was a box brimming with handkerchiefs.

Her head would only hurt trying to make sense of the logic. “The handkerchief doesn’t belong to me, either.”

“And that’s precisely why you should leave it here,” the shopkeeper reasoned. “It’s lost, and I’ll ensure it finds its rightful owner.”

Just as the jewelry box found its rightful owner, she thought dryly.

But three centuries was a long time to go unclaimed. After the war, there was no way of knowing if its original owner was still alive. And as for the handkerchief… she supposed leaving it here was preferable to what she was likely going to do with it, which was absolutely nothing. She would inevitably put off speaking to Azriel about it just as she avoided telling Lucien why she was really awake in the middle of the night.

It was one less burden off her hands, and she couldn’t say she was sorry to see it go as she dropped it into the box of multicolored fabrics.

[quicksilverdrabbles]

Gaia: *watches as Mirmulnir falls dead, covered in burns and slashes through her plating, but acting unbothered* ... Mission Accomplished. *turns and scans her team, taking note of any injuries* ... First Aid Required. Starting R̷o̵u̸t̴e̸ ̵T̴o̷-̵ *stops, eyes flashing several different colors as the dragon's scales float into the air and fly towards her, becoming streaks of light as she absorbs them* ...?!

Lucien: Oh wow.. What is this??

Kaidan: Uh, something I don't like the look of. Gaia?

Gaia: S̵y̵s̴t̷e̵m̴ ̷O̵v̸e̷r̸l̸o̵a̶d̵.̶ ̴S̴o̸u̵l̴ ̵G̵e̷m̸ ̴C̵o̴r̴e̸ ̴C̸o̶m̷p̷r̵o̶m̵i̸s̶e̶d̵.̸ *Warning messages flash across her sensors in red letters, her visual cameras distorting and powering down* Ḙ̶̿m̶̮̅e̶̥̔r̵̻͐g̵̟͑ẹ̶̃n̴̢͑c̶͊͜y̵̩̐ ̴̧̓S̷̭̀h̷̡̊ṳ̷͌t̵͕͛ḑ̷̉o̵̼̓w̶̤͠n̸̟̒ ̴̪͆I̴̖͝n̷͉͆i̷̙͐t̷̩͒i̶͈̿-̴̫͘ I̶͔͒n̸͖͗i̷͙̾-̶̛̝ ̵̹͂Ä̵͍t̶͓̐e̵̟̊-̷͕̌ ̶́ͅṪ̶͈e̷͕̓-̸̢͂Ț̸̏e̴̖͘-̷͇́T̵̝̋è̸̜-̷̱͂T̴͜͝e̷̙̊ḋ̴̳.̶̭́.̴̺̆.̴̻͝

Kaidan: Gaia?!

Gaia: *drops to her knees, falling limp as her once white eyes turn completely black, like a de-activated screen*

Kaidan: *tries to catch her as she falls, nearly collapsing under her weight and falling on top of her* Gods- All that metal is way too heavy-

Inigo: What happened to her?? That didn't smell natural! I-I mean, nothing about her exactly smells natural, but it wasn't the regular sort of-

Kaidan: I don't know, we killed the dragon like we were supposed to!

Lucien: A-And then it- it disintegrated?! And attacked her again?? But it didn't look like an attack, it looked more like-

Gaia: S̶y̵s̷t̶e̷m̶ ̵R̶e̸s̷t̷a̸r̴t̶ ̴I̴n̴i̴t̵i̴a̵t̷e̷d̸.̵

Lucien: Eek!

Gaia: *eyes fade white, a blue line encircling her pupil, rotating in a circle* . . .

Inigo: Gaia? Are you okay, my friend?

Gaia: ... Y̵e̵s̸,̴ ̶I̶'̵m̶ ̶q̵u̵i̵t̸e̷-̶ *ahem* I'm quite alright. There is no need to be concerned.

Kaidan: No need?? You just completely shut down after you defeated that dragon! We thought it actually managed to kill you!

Gaia: That is impossible. Even if a dragon can damage me, I highly doubt I would meet my demise to one.

Lucien: Then what was that?? You said that your soul gem was compromised.

Gaia: Did I? I have no recollection of this. I must have said something in the midst of my shutdown.

Inigo: ... I think maybe that whole dragon fight must have messed with your brain, my friend. How about we just go back to Whiterun and tell the Jarl that big gasbag is dead, hm?

Gaia: Understood. I will run an analysis on my hardware on the journey back, and inform you all of any irregularities.

Lucien: Are you sure you're alright to stand already? That must have been a lot for you.

Gaia: Please do not worry about me. I was built to handle things like this and continue functioning properly.

Kaidan: To hell with that. Here, lean on me and I'll help you walk.

Gaia: ... Request Accepted. Thank you, Kaidan. You really don't have to go through the trouble.

Kaidan: 'S fine. I'm just worried.

Gaia: ...

~

Gaia: Dragonborn?

Balgruuf: You absorbed that dragon's power, killing it eternally. No one else could do that but a Dragonborn.

Gaia: I am afraid there has been some sort of mistake. It is biologically impossible for me to be Dragonborn. I have no blood of a dragon, and the only soul I have is- *her words are interrupted by a bright flash, her eyes flipping from red, to yellow, to green, and back to white* Analysis Complete. ... What on earth?

Kaidan: What's up? You found something?

Gaia: When my soul gem was compromised.. My analysis found more than the one soul encapsulated in the soul gem. The second, newer one is draconic in nature.

Lucien: The dragon's soul?

Gaia: I suppose so, yes. Alongside that, while I had always been able to translate the word walls from the Merethic ruins, I feel a deeper meaning within the word 'fus', the word of force in the dragon tongue. It is.. a very strange sensation.

Kaidan: A Shout, maybe. Like how the Greybeards summoned you to High Hrothgar.

Gaia: Hm..

Lucien: What are you thinking about now, Gaia?

Gaia: The earliest recorded history I can find of the term 'Dragonborn' stems from a Dragon Priest in the Merethic Era who was said to be blessed by Akatosh, but turned down a path of Daedric worship. And then the Slave-Queen Alessia in the early First Era. Here in Skyrim, the Dwemer only heard rumors and tales of the Nedic rebellion, but the stories of Alessia being Dragonborn were legend.

Lucien: How fascinating! I knew of Alessia being the first Dragonborn in Cyrodiilic history, but a Dragon Priest? A servant to the dragons, given the power to destroy the dragons! It all sounds very ironic.

Gaia: All men that learned the Thu'um in opposition to the dragons were given that power, if only more temporary than the permanent solution.

Kaidan: .. Do you think that soul in your soul gem was Dragonborn? That's why you absorbed the dragon's soul?

Gaia: It's.. very likely. However, soul gems are very much limited in capacity compared to the organic body of a living Dragonborn. Experimentation to see how many dragon souls this gem can carry in addition to its own would be.. risky. *raises her hand over her chest, covering it protectively* ... I must not let the soul gem shatter.

Kaidan: Aye. We'll have to be careful then. It's your call what you want to do about these Greybeards.

Gaia: Hm. We will request an audience with them at a later day. As of now, none of you received any proper first aid after fighting the dragon. I say we are going to the Temple of Kynareth right this instant.

Inigo: Hehe. She is like a doting mother.

Kaidan: Don't go forgetting you got damaged too, Gaia. We'll have to stop by Adrienne's and borrow her forge to mend your parts.

Gaia: Noted. However, human safety comes before mechanical repair.

Kaidan: Yeah, right. Don't tempt me into dragging you right past the temple.

Gaia: If I recall correctly, you couldn't keep me off the ground when I shut down.

Kaidan: Well you're all metal! I wasn't expecting it, is all. Just you wait, someday very soon I'll be carryin' you everywhere just because I can!

Gaia: *the corners of her lips twitch up, almost in a smile, but fall back into a blank expression quickly*

[aplusjaybirdie]

Bomb Sequence for WIP Ask Meme

both of you asked for bomb sequence, so I'll give two little snippets! in this one, Caleb comes home from work to find a grim invitation/ransom note, and finds a geas'd Essek with a bomb strapped to his chest and an old enemy telling him what to say. There's also some possession, and this is all thanks to the fifth Mission Impossible film, which I love with an unending passion.

It wasn’t just an intuit charge.  When Caleb was young, and magic was nothing more than the tricks done on festival days, there was a creek running across a corner of his parent’s farm. He had enjoyed playing there, making dams out of stones and mud to block the water flow, watching the water level creep higher and higher until it swept aside his ineffective attempts to force the water to bend to him.  This was an intuit charge frozen in time, dancing on the precipice of explosion. It was an intuit charge that had already been triggered, and like the water building behind his dams, there was nothing he could do to stop it. It would not be stopped, would not be forced to flow backward. He could not disable or dispel it. He could only add more stones and mud and hope that, when the dam broke, it didn’t take the rest of his careful constructions with it in a rush of might. He could only try to appease an unknown enemy with a pet Volstrucker and an agenda he knew nothing about. 

this next one has some hand injury and some spoilers, so putting that under a read more!

At this point, Essek's kidnapper has revealed himself by taking over Essek's body, and is making his demands.

“Ja, it made it through my paper-and-ink skull. I will behave for you.”  “Good boy,” said Lucien. “I’ll hold you to that. But you took a little long to answer, didn’t you?” He clicked his tongue disparagingly. “Come on, I thought you were supposed to be quick on the draw.” And then he plunged the fork down into Essek’s hand.  Caleb’s glass exploded in his grip, shattering into half a dozen shards across the table and floor, wet with a mixture of wine and blood.  “Scheisse!” Caleb cradled his hand to his chest, dripping blood on his coat and lap.  “What a shame,” said Lucien mildly, one hand still pinned to the table. “Here, you can take a drink from mine.” He picked the glass up and held it out to Caleb, a small smile on his face.  Caleb stared at him wordlessly, fighting the urge to throw the entire glass in his face, and after a moment, Lucien shrugged and set it in the middle of the table. “Remember, you promised to behave,” he said, then pulled the fork out of Essek’s hand with a horrible noise and wiped the tines delicately on the napkin. 

[emilyplaysotome]

The Queen Makes Her Choice: Part 6

This is the final chapter to a multi-part smutty fic with the MLQC boys. This might be the filthiest thing I've ever written 😂

This whole series is for those 18+ only.

Catch up:

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Miracle finder makes it impossible to see anyone, and even if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t matter.

Gavin is on a mission, Victor is on a trip, Kiro is on tour, and Lucien…

…well, Lucien isn’t replying, or posting, or commenting.

No surprise there.

I have no idea if he’ll show on Saturday even though the rest of them will be there. I’ve booked us a private room in one of Loveland’s hottest “sky clubs” - a lounge located at the top of a high rise with nothing but large glass windows and views for days to accompany the drinks and people.

It was a splurge on my salary, but I have to do this right.

If I do this right well...

...maybe there's hope of keeping them all by my side.

There’s still no reply from Lucien as I get ready an hour before everyone is supposed to meet. I decide to tell him that I need him there, and let that be the end of it.

I don’t have much in my closet for this event, but buried in the back I find an old clubbing outfit from my birthday two years ago. The top is an iridescent blueish-purple with spaghetti straps, a revealing back, and cropped to show my midriff. I pair it with a flowy dark skirt that balances out its sex appeal, tying my hair back, and putting on a simple necklace to show off my neckline.

I feel pretty and knowing that I’m about to meet four (well, hopefully four) men who have all confessed to me, I feel confident that they will too.

—

I arrive early and finish my drink too quickly in the hopes of calming my nerves. The waitstaff gets me another and I tell myself to cool it for fear of getting too drunk before they all arrive.

The room I’ve reserved is bigger than I expected, with seating that could easily accommodate 25 people. There are standing cocktail tables and ink blue couches that have a soft, velvet fabric accompanied by tables for drinks.

I’ve settled into the center of one of the couches and I’m distracting myself on my phone, hoping that my nerves will fade when I hear the door open.

I’m surprised that its Lucien who I see first.

“I didn’t think you were coming?!” I say.

He kisses me before sitting next to me, looking around the room.

“I wasn’t sure if I would.”

“But why?”

He sighs and shakes his head, smiling.

“Too much thinking. Too much worrying.”

I have more questions, but I won’t get to ask them as Victor enters next. Upon seeing Lucien I can see his defenses go up. He puffs out his chest, tilts up his chin sneering at him, making no attempt to hide what can only be described as a very sour expression.

I get up and stand between them, gently taking Victor’s hand and guiding him to sit beside me on the couch. Sandwiched between him and Lucien, I thank him for coming. The mood only grows more tense with each addition.

Gavin is next.

Kiro is last.

It’s clear that they all thought I had planned something for them and them alone based on the disappointment I see on their faces when they register their competition in the room. Once they’re all assembled, Lucien and Victor on either side of me, Gavin pouting with his arms crossed and standing by one of the cocktail tables and Kiro who paces like a wild animal in a cage, I begin.

“I know you’re all eager to understand what this is about,” I say. “And I first want to thank you all for being in my life.”

There are gruff acknowledgments all around, but no real words or statements from anyone. I can tell by the way they’re drinking and refilling their glasses that they’re just as nervous as I am, and not wanting to drag things out I continue.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want in my partner, and I keep coming back to daily life. Waking up next to someone I love each morning, making breakfast, hearing about their day…”

It’s then I look at each of them, one by one.

“…and I’ve come to the conclusion that none of you can do that for me.”

“Now wait a minute,” Gavin starts to say and I cut him off.

“You’re always gone on some mission for God knows how long.”

I turn to look at Lucien, “You disappear on me at the drop of a hat…”

Then Victor, “…you spend 50% of your time doing business outside of Loveland City….”

And finally Kiro, “…and you’re on tour for the foreseeable future.”

They all seem bashful because they know I’m right.

They all know they couldn’t be 'the one' unless they all made major concessions for me.

“So I think for now, until things change, I will commit to none of you and all of you.”

There’s shock from Gavin.

Laughter from Victor.

Annoyance from Kiro.

Anger from Lucien.

Gavin quickly spits out “That’s…” but Victor cuts him off.

“Only fair. None of us can really run to her side when she needs us, but between the four of us we can take care of her.”

I’m stunned that he actually agrees, not just understands.

I thought that out of the four he might be the most difficult to convince, but suddenly I’m watching as he argues with Kiro about what it means to love me. Lucien is silent, along with Gavin. They listen as they wrestle with what they already know about our world to their ability to accept being a part time boyfriend.

There’s silence when Victor reminds them aloud of the danger I face.

Being with me is not just being there for the good times, though I’m grateful that lately there’s been many. This time of peace may disappear just as easily as it arrived and they all know it, even if they don't want to admit it.

I’m surprised when Gavin is the second to agree to keeping things as they are, with the caveat that I not think about anyone but him when we’re together. I find myself feeling shy and can feel the heat creep into my cheeks as I nod back at him, knowing that his request is easily fulfilled.

Satisfied by my reply he smirks before making it known that he doesn’t want to discuss things further and will invite me on a date soon, leaving me with the others.

I can tell that Kiro is close to compromising, but Lucien beats him to the punch.

“Alright,” he says with that smile of his. “This just gives you more time to decide that you love me most.”

The comment makes Kiro look as if he’s going to rip Lucien’s head off, and he charges towards him. Victor puts his hand out and holds Kiro back, reminding him that this is not about how they feel about each other but how they feel about me.

Lucien quietly laughs and whispers in my ear, “I will try sticking around in the future in order to prove to you that I’m all you need, if that’s truly what you’re looking for.”

“It is,” I say.

I’m not lying, but for now I’m relieved to have found a loophole.

I’m relieved that it seems I will not have to choose after all.

“While I don’t like the idea of leaving you with these two, I must be off to a prior commitment. I only meant to stop by because you were insistent. And because I will always be there for you, despite what you may think.”

He’s being mysterious but I can tell whenever we’re together he can’t help but be pulled back to me as much as he tries to run away.

I can tell that he looks for excuses to be with me, even when he's busy.

“Thank you Lucien,” I say and mean it.

I’m grateful that I don’t have to say goodbye, especially to him.

I’m surprised when he kisses me, deeply, in front of the others and I can feel that his eyes are on them as he does it, almost as if he’s challenging them.

When he pulls away I watch as Victor rolls his eyes as Kiro grows incensed again. Lucien pretends not to care and leaves, ignoring the string of obscenities that flows out of Kiro.

“Enough,” Victor eventually says, sighing and returning to the couch next to me.

“I understand why we’re doing what we’re doing,” Kiro says, still standing. “But doesn’t it bother you seeing that?”

“No,” Victor says coolly. “It only motivates me to please her more.”

I feel his hand wrap around my midriff and he kisses me, passionately, in front of Kiro. I let out a surprised moan and after a moment he pulls away with a smirk.

“See?”

I’m embarrassed and I quietly scold him for kissing me like that in front of Kiro. Not to be outdone, Kiro comes over and kisses me too. I can taste the cocktail on him and the wine on Victor and between the alcohol and their touch I realize that I feel a bit light headed.

As Kiro kisses me, I feel Victor’s hand travel under my skirt and up my thigh. He starts rubbing me and I moan, prompting Kiro to deepen his kiss, moving his hands from my face to my neck and then chest. When he pulls away, Victor capitalizes on the opportunity and kisses my neck as he slides one of his fingers into me.

I can tell they’re both more intoxicated than they’d ever admit, and to be honest, so am I.

Sober me would have stopped this but drunk me is flying high on everything that is happening. It feels too good to worry about the waitstaff walking through that door, and I close my eyes knowing that Kiro is watching Victor play with me, eagerly awaiting his turn.

He’s impatient though, and my top comes off leaving me fully exposed to both the men and the city beyond the large glass windows. I feel myself reaching for both of them, to make them feel as good as they’re making me feel and I feel Victor’s other hand unbutton his pants.

--

What happens next is a bit of a blur.

It’s almost as if I come back to myself, stripped bare and breathing heavily on a couch that isn’t mine and in a lounge where anyone could have walked in at any moment. I see the two men next to me, panting and satisfied on either side, tucking their shirts back in as they return to a disheveled version of the men that appeared earlier in the night.

I will pretend that I don’t remember bouncing on top of Victor as I sucked on Kiro. I will pretend that I won’t remember finishing both of them on my knees, with my hands and my mouth before letting Victor finish me with his mouth while Kiro watches on, all the while stimulating my other sensitive spots.

I will pretend I don’t remember Victor playing with time to drag out my pleasure when it finally comes, and that I do not giggle when Kiro whines, “Oh come on, that’s just cheating…”

When the waitstaff finally do enter, we are all fully clothed and in the process of sobering up with cold glasses of water. I worry that the room reeks of sex and that they know what happened, but it would appear that they are none the wiser.

Victor grabs the tab that I was supposed to pick up and pays for everything, leaving just as much in tip before saying to us, “Let’s get out of here.”

On the street we are silent - the cold air sobering us to the reality that lies beyond.

“Do you mind if I take her home?” Victor asks Kiro politely, and I’m surprised when Kiro shakes his head.

“I have to catch an early flight for our next leg of the tour.”

“You’ll keep in touch, right?” I ask, almost scared that the greediness of my actions will catch up with me, but Kiro just smiles his bright, pop star smile.

“Of course Miss Chips. Until we meet again.”

He kisses me sweetly, and neither he nor Victor seem to care that the other is present for this moment.

He leaves and Victor takes my hand, slowly walking me back home.

We’re silent for a few blocks before he starts chuckling out of seemingly nowhere.

“What?!” I demand.

“You continue to surprise me.”

I look at him, puzzled as to what he’s talking about and he continues.

“I’ll have to come up with a new contract to ensure I get at least one fourth of your time.”

He’s teasing me, but I know him well enough to know that he’s actually impressed at how I’ve managed to get what I want despite how things are usually done. He’s known from the start that I haven’t wanted to say goodbye.

That I’m not ready to.

There’s kindness in what he’s saying, and it’s not lost on me. As much as I know he wants me for himself, he won’t rush me.

He loves me too much to do that.

They all do.

The topic changes quite naturally and before I know it we’re chatting as if our salacious night never happened. He’s mocking me for being a glutton and I’m pretending to be outraged that he’d call me such.

I invite him in because I’m back faster than I expected and to my disappointment, he refuses me.

“LFG calls,” he says, and I can tell he’s disappointed too.

“Ok. Thanks for walking me home.”

He smiles and kisses me and just as I turn to open the door to my building and head inside, he grabs my arm.

“But now that I know what you want, soon enough you won’t have this excuse to keep the others around…”

He lets go and turns on his heel, not glancing back and walking away with the kind of confidence and swagger I know only he posses. My heart races as I watch him turn the corner and out of my sight before turning in.

—

I shower the night off of me and change into cozy pajamas, crawling into bed. I have four messages, one from each of them, all wishing me good night and reminding me that this is for now.

“One day work won't consume my life,” Victor repeats.

“One day I will prove to you that I can stay,” Lucien says.

“One day my mission will be complete,” Gavin promises.

“One day it will only be us,” Kiro muses.

One day.

But until that day, I will savor having all them in my life.

And I will love them all as much as they love me, for as long as I’m allowed.

--

This was fun to write and *very* out of my comfort zone. As always, if you’ve enjoyed the story, please show your support by sharing it with a friend, liking it, commenting to say that you enjoyed it/what you liked, or buying me a coffee!

While this is most likely the last installment of this short series, if you like my writing I hope you'll follow me for more in the future.

tagging:

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@redheadkitty11

@superllamaathleteshoe

@mamafishfound

@clilee

@uniunikilla

@x-klamstrakur

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@caitvoyancy

[mlqcconfessions]

hi! can i request the guys realising they’re in love with you/mc? how would they react to it and when would the realisation happen? just something a lil cute for the quarantine ✨

SUGAR SWEET not really, this got really dark

Warning: Backstory spoilers (with some alterations!)

MLQC Headcanon - When I First Realized

Victor

He still remembers the day when you first walked into his office

He hadn’t thought much of this new producer (just that she seemed like a dummy)

A few more meetings with you, and he realized that his initial impression of you was wrong (something that doesn’t happen often)

You didn’t seem like a dummy, you were a dummy

He’s never seen someone so all over the place, barely able to collect herself sometimes

At one point, he found himself almost looking forward to your visitations

As a CEO, he’s learned to control his emotions quite early on in his life

He forbid himself from showing any weaknesses (but he knows everyone else’s?)

So when he realized he was acting like a human being abnormal, he became irritated

He assigned more tasks, and required more proposals from you

By giving you more work, he eventually gave himself a chance to divert away from you (drowning in paperwork meant distracting his mind)

But for some reason, he just couldn’t seem to forget you

Maybe it’s the way you act tough

Maybe it’s how you avoid his eyes, but glare at him when you think he’s not looking (Victor knows everything)

Or maybe it’s your smile, and how you never show that in front of him

So he started wondering, what could he do to make you not so afraid of him?

As he got lost in his thoughts, his eyes gravitated to the pile of papers on his desk (he hasn’t so much touched those yet)

“Huh, unbelievable” (he then quickly passed off any interferences with his work)

A considerable amount of time has gone, and he’s escaping an abandoned building with you

He can feel the tension in the air, as the currents electrify his surroundings

Victor looks over to you, weary and frail from constant running, and clenches his fists

Whoever is behind this, they’re aiming for you

Before he could think of a plan of action, he suddenly catches you as you leap out in front of him (you’re writhing with pain as the bolt lashes against your back)

In his arms, you’re there, limp without consciousness, unaware of the turmoil inside his heart

He thinks back to when he was just a boy, and that brave girl who jumped to save his life (he had made it his lifelong goal to find her, but to no avail)

Now he knows it was you all this time, and he won’t let anyone hurt you ever again

Even if he has to break through time.

Kiro

He was a celebrity for as long as he can remember (one of the most popular child stars of his day!)

But it’s not like he desired to be in the spotlight for fame

He needed to find her (and that was his mission since the start)

“For you, I’ll reach even greater heights”

This was the only way he could possibly search the entire city to find her

By stranding himself in the public eye

He has never forgotten about her (she was on his mind everyday)

Whether he wants to or not, flashbacks of the experiment table run across his mind

He can picture the little girl next to him, seeming to be about his age, her eyes closed into a peaceful slumber

The red thread connecting the two of them continued to circulate, and he was forced to watch it all

If only he could rip out the needles binding him and escape this orphanage with her (he eyed the room for any possible routes)

She was so close to him, yet unreachable

He tried to grab hold of her hand, so as to stop this nightmare from consuming her

But one of the masked figures noticed his activity, and nonchalantly increased his dosage

The boy tried so hard to keep his eyes open, to fight back, but what power did he have?

He was only five

Many years passed, and Kiro returned to Loveland to boost his career as a superstar

He was now known as everyone’s sunshine, radiating with bright energy and beauty

Friendly with all, it’s not difficult to disclose your personal information with him (but no one really knows the darkest parts of the sun’s shadows)

Even now, he was still trying to find her

She must be around my age (but how would he know what she looked like now?)

With doubts in his mind, he takes a walk in his disguise to momentarily hide from the flashes of cameras

There was no destination in mind, just a desperation to be somewhere

He felt lost in this world where everyone knew who he was (but who would be able to rescue me?)

His eyes drift towards a supermarket, with a young lady stationed near the chips aisle

She should be around her age, maybe the height too?

As he walks past the store, he got a good look at her face (his heart nearly stopped beating)

Although the features were more mature compared to his memories, it was still the same shining smile as the little girl’s

How could he ever forget that smile? (the sole ray of light that shone on him in the darkness)

Without hesitation, he marches towards the market, nearly slamming into the automatic doors

He grabs the bag of chips she was reaching for, in hopes of getting her attention (in a relatively gentle way)

As she was about to yell his name, he quickly covered her mouth, allowing him to look clearly into her eyes

Ah....it was really her

“Shhh...I don’t wanna get noticed”

Lucien

In his world, everything was ordinary

Bland, boring, and lifeless

It has been this way for as long as he can remember, and he’s grown accustomed to this lifestyle

There was nothing he could do about it, nor did he want to waste efforts trying

It was easier to ignore the impossible, and focus on more important matters at hand (and this continued for years)

He had heard that a producer from a company was looking for him, and that she should be arriving any minute now

He had no plans to involve himself with television, so he decided to politely decline the offer to join her

Lucien wandered around his office, organizing his desk to welcome the unwanted visitor

He looked at his bookshelf, colored with a dull grey all around

It wasn’t anything new, just a little depressing at times

He noticed a butterfly floating past his windows (colorless like everything else in his sight)

Then he saw her, the visitor

Suddenly his eyes began to burn (his muscles started pulsing at the temples)

Why....

There was no explanation that he could think of

He trusted his eyes enough to know that this was not a dream, yet can he see color?

What makes her so different?

His original plan was to refuse her offer at the door, but instead took out his china set and began to brew some tea

Meanwhile, you arrive at the floor Professor Lucien should be on (you ask around, but no one knows where he is)

You ask a younger-looking gentleman, who leads you to an office a few doors down

You enter cautiously, but the professor is nowhere to be seen

As you’re about to leave, the gentleman pushes a cup towards you (it’s steaming with freshly poured tea)

As she grabs the cup, her touch reveals its true colors, never-before-seen

It puts a smile on his face at the sight of the extravagant change

....how beautiful

“Um, do you know when Professor Lucien will be returning?”

“I can go ask the researcher next door, if you’d like”

“Oh, that would be great!”

He can’t help but let out a chuckle as he calls his colleague next door, to which she replies with absurdity

“What are you talking about, Lucien?” (he can’t help but feel amused at the producer’s shocked expression)

He peers curiously into her blushing face, his first time seeing such a flattering hue

Gavin

He wasn’t always sure about when he first fell in love with you

He just knows that he did

At one point, you were the only thing on his mind

“Bro, you’re in love with her!”

Despite Minor’s annoyed words, he just couldn’t understand (love? what a joke)

He was sure that this wasn’t love, just a fleeting spark of a moment’s interest

He shielded you from the rain with his umbrella, but it’s not love

He stared at the picture of you in the school newspaper for hours (Minor had to take it away from his hands), but it’s not love 

He goes to your every recital (on the roof so you don’t notice him), but it’s not love

No matter which way he looked at it, he WAS NOT in love with you (Minor is slamming his head into the table)

But looking back, he does have an idea as to when this interest started

It was late spring, just on the border to becoming autumn

He was starting to lose conscious, surrounded by knife-bearers

Gavin was cornered on the school roof, blood flowing out at a dangerous rate

Then, he heard a soft melody encompassing the air around him (piano...?)

As he tried to locate where the sound was coming from, one of the gang members pushed him off the edge

His world spun around as he outreached his arms, desperately trying to grab onto anything available

Nothing.

All energy left his body, reverting him to a corpse (maybe my next life wouldn’t be so bad....)

Suddenly a heavy, rapid, surging melody sounded (taken from Campus Date!)

Gavin’s life flashed before his eyes, and the next thing he saw was the entire city beneath his floating feet

“....! What...is this..?”

While he was trying to collect himself, the roaring notes of the piano continued, as if they were in agreement with his adrenaline rush

He quickly regained control, letting the booming wind merge with this foreign power inside him

He gravitated towards the window, where the school’s music room was located

His ears soon landed on a beautiful voice, accompanied by the rhythmic taps of the keys (it was her!)

He still wasn’t sure how this Evol awakened inside of him, and is still wondering if this was love, but one thing’s certain:

He, for all eternity, would dedicate his life to protecting her (cue the Minor squeals!)

Shaw

He never thought of himself as a stationary being

Too much of a hassle

With his skateboard, he cruises around the city at his own pace, looking for any amusements in the area

Unable to find anything worth pursuing, he returns to his alleyway to finish the graffiti piece he was working on earlier

He recalls the time when he briefly met his brother, at the airport a while back

He laughs just thinking about that moment (he’s never seen his brother so furious)

Come to think of it, he was protecting a girl that day

Determined to make his day fun, he decides to go find her himself

You waited in the bus, hoping that your precognition doesn’t come true

“If we just get past this block, it’ll be fine”

You’re almost sent out of your seat as the driver brakes at the bus stop, one before your destination

A tall guy, occupied with his headphones, steps in

Shaw immediately is able to spot her, and promptly places himself in the seat next to her

The bus was nearly empty, yet he chose to sit next to you instead (just why..?)

As for why he sat there, Shaw couldn’t think of a reason either

He simply thought whatever happens next might be fun

He glanced over at the girl, who fidgeted nervously next to him

He cracked a silent smirk as he adjusted his headphones (he could feel her gaze on him)

“Wanna listen?”

“N-no..”

You couldn’t get your head around this guy, and exactly what he was planning

But you had your own problems to worry about, and it arrived much sooner than expected

Shaw noticed the girl was clutching onto her dress tightly, and glanced at her face

She looked like she was in pain for some reason, but there was nothing he could do to help (Do I wanna help in the first place?)

He jolted as she suddenly got up and yelled for the driver to stop the bus

The driver, of course, passed her pleas off (the bus wasn’t at the stop yet, anyways)

He inquisitively looked at his surroundings

There was nothing off, which means there was no reason for her to get so panicky

He became very interested in what she was going to do next, so he willingly gave her a hand

In the blink of an eye, the sky became dark and rain started to pour outside

Your eyes go wide at this unusual happening, but waste no time in rushing out the door (the driver gave up on running the bus in this weather)

He discreetly follows the girl as she runs towards the crosswalk

He’s a little taken back as she plops down on the cement, a sigh of relief across her expression

Without saying anything, he hands her a transparent umbrella (he tries hard to not laugh at her conflicted face)

“You’re welcome”

He decides not to ask her what that was all about

He could sense that they will be meeting again in the future soon

WOWZERS. This took me a lot longer to complete than expected.... (it’s so long!!!!) I did alter some details, just to fit what I want more.

I guess I took this a different route than what the request was, so I hope anon who submitted this is okay with it

I went for a more “when was an important turning point in their relationship” compared to “when did they fall in love” (because I think it captures the essence of the game better)

Hope you enjoyed. I’m now going to cry at all the hurt ;_;

[lu-undy]

lu lost perle eventually, mundy comforting him-just like you said before.

Here it is!

It was a quiet Saturday that day, but Lucien would remember it all of his remaining life. 

He was busy with the usual chores left and right in the house while his other half was in town. The van needed to be checked and the fridge nearly empty. 

Lucien changed the sheets on the bed and went to deal with the laundry. He whistled to himself as he came down the stairs with a basin in his hands containing said laundry. 

"Meow?" 

"Oui, ma chérie. Tu veux aider Papa?" 

[Yes, my darling. Do you want to help Papa?]

Lucien's white, long-haired cat followed her Papa, walking close behind him. As soon as he put the basin down, she jumped in the old sheets and rolled on her back. 

"Perle, non…" He chuckled and scratched her, tickling her all over her belly. She tried to gnaw on his fingers, grab them and push them away playfully. He pulled her out of the basin after a minute of playing and carried her in his arms to hug her, holding her like a baby.

He sat down on the floor and spent a few minutes cuddling with her, talking with her, exchanging headbutts and words of love and praise.

Lucien absolutely loved his cat, she was his counsellor, confidente and since he had rescued her when she was but a kitten, he watched over her and raised her as he would a daughter. And he remembered when he had rescued her. She had rescued him too.

Back in those days, more than a decade ago, he was on a mission and was coming back to his hotel room where he had found her at his door dirty, shivering and fragile. She was so dirty in fact that she was grey with patches of yellowish filth. 

She had hissed at him all the while climbing on his shoe and not letting go of his ankle. He remembered how she planted her still soft claws and little fangs into him. Lucien had of course pulled her out of him to get rid of her, but to no avail. She stayed on him and he had hated it…!

He had eventually entered his flat with her and gave her a bath. Lucien smiled as he remembered how she bit his hand as ferociously as she could, the poor thing, until he opened a can of tuna. Unsurprisingly enough, she soon preferred to plant her fangs there. 

Since then, they had learnt to live together, spy and kitten. And when the Frenchman came back home from work, she would suck all his attention to herself, meowing, asking for pets, for scratches and for more playtime until the poor thing was exhausted and would fall asleep holding Lucien's hand between her paws.

"Meow!"

"Ma chérie, je dois m'occuper des linges, donne-moi un petit instant."

[My darling, I need to take care of the laundry, give me a little instant.]

He stood back up and resumed his chores. 

In town, Mundy was making haste. He glanced one last time at the list that Lucien had hand-written for him. 

"Oh bugger, that's last week's one, isn't it?" He flipped the note and the back read "Je t'aime, mon chéri", which he now knew translated to "I love you, my darling."

Yeah, that was last week's note. Mundy shoved a hand in his pocket and took all the lists out, reading them back and front with his groceries bag in hand, in the middle of the market. And his awkward flipping of the little notes made him drop his bag. 

"Ah, bloody hell…!" He knelt down and picked them up. A woman kindly stopped to help him. "Thanks, mate."

"No worries." She smiled and took one of the notes from the ground. "Oh, your wife has a beautiful handwriting." 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped and he smiled. 

"Yeah, she does." He answered. 

"Here you go, you go it all back."

"Thanks again."

"No problem, have a nice day!" 

The woman went away and Mundy finally found the right note. He checked and when he was sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he headed back home. 

Lucien always asked him to throw away the past notes to not get confused between them all but Mundy couldn't. He loved those notes, they all had a different message on the back, but were all signed with a capital, cursive L and a heart. 

When he finally hit back home, Mundy opened the door wide and slipped in before pushing the door back with his foot, given that his hands were carrying the food bag.

"I'm home, Lu'! I got everything on the list." 

Mundy headed straight for the kitchen and put the bag down on the table. He then removed his jacket to get more comfortable, and hung it next to the front door. 

"Lu'?" 

The Frenchman was nowhere to be heard, so the Aussie started looking in every room. 

"Lu'? Where are you, love?" 

No one was downstairs so Mundy went upstairs. After looking in the bedroom and even the bathroom, he came out confused and frowning. 

"Where the hell is he…?" He wondered out loud while putting his hands on his hips. He came back to the kitchen, dragging his feet, and looked at the notes on the fridge. That was how Lucien communicated when he wasn't there, by leaving a note on the fridge. But there wasn't any new one. 

Hm. Odd.

Mundy turned to go back to the living room when a sight caught his eye through the French window, in the garden. 

"Gosh…" He rushed to it and opened it. "Lu'? What are you doing there? Oh?" 

The Frenchman was sitting cross-legged, his back to Mundy and his entire upper body rocking back and forth. 

"Lu'...?" 

When Mundy turned around him, his jaw dropped. Lucien was crying, holding Perle against his chest and rocking back and forth like a mad man. 

"What is it…?" Mundy crouched down. "What's wrong? Why're you holdin' Pearl like that?" 

The Frenchman couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything but keep his eyes closed and let his tears stream down his face, continuously. His breath hitched each time he tried to catch it, before he would dive in his sorrow again. 

"What is it?" Mundy repeated and Lucien curled up even more on Perle. "Love, don't hold her that hard…" The Aussie put a hand between them, on Perle's fluff. "She'll claw you if you - oh, God…"

His pupils retracted to a dot when he felt how cold the cat was. His eyes darted to Perle, her face, her eyes that were still open.

"No… Give her over here…" 

Lucien was so overwhelmed that he did not fight Mundy back. The Aussie took the cat in his arms and realised how limp her body was. 

"Pearl…? Pearl, baby? Pearl? Talk to Dad? Meow to Papa, Pearl? Pearl?!" 

He sat down and scratched her cheeks, feeling his own burn with the tears rising. 

"Pearl, baby, say somethin', please?" 

Lucien lowered his head and covered face in his hands, drenching them with more tears. 

"Oh my God…" Mundy started crying too, sniffling between two bits of sentences. "When? When did she…?" 

"I don't know… I was dealing with the laundry… She came to play with me and then she went on her own way… Next time I saw her, she was… she was on the grass and… Mundy…" Lucien caught his breath in a staccato. "Mundy…" He burst out crying again, leaning on his lover. 

"I'm… Fuck…" Mundy pushed her eyelids to shut down. "We need to treat her right, baby, you hear me?" 

Lucien nodded, his forehead against Mundy's shoulder. 

"Right… Go in the house and get a box." 

"Mundy, I can't… I… Tell me she is fine, please… I… I can't live without her… She has been here for the past fifteen years or so… I can't, Mundy…" 

"Love, we gotta do what's right…" Mundy sniffled and looked down at his lover. "Y'know what, you hold her safe and I'll get what we need, yeah?" 

"Mundy, please, no…" Mundy gave him the cat and knelt down to lace his arms around Lucien.

"Love, I… There's nothing else anyone can do…I'm sorry, I'm so bloody sorry…"

"But Mundy… She was our baby… Perle, ma chérie… Mon amour… Mon bébé… Ma petite Perle chérie…"

[Pearl, my darling… My love… My baby… My little darling Perle…]

Lucien held her in his arms and curled on her to hug her as tight as possible, crying in her fur. Mundy held him and let his tears flow too for a minute or so, before he stood up. 

A moment later, he came back with a box and a shovel. He walked past Lucien and started digging in the garden. 

Lucien didn't pay attention to him and kept on talking to his cat as if she could still hear him. 

The sound of the shovel hitting the ground dissolved in the air and Lucien noticed only when it stopped, and the silence fell heavily. He turned to Mundy and saw the Aussie on his knees. Yeah, that hole was deep and big enough. 

"C'mere, Lu'. Bring her in." 

The Frenchman obeyed. He lay Perle in the box, and both him and Mundy closed it, crying all the while. When the box was lowered, they stood on all four and put the soil back, crying and mumbling, trying to bid farewell to the best friend and baby they both shared. 

When they were done, none of them could move. Their hands were dirty, as were their trousers from kneeling down on the ground, but none of them cared. They stayed there in the garden, on their knees. 

"Do you think that… we gave her a good life?" Lucien asked. 

Mundy turned his head to look at him before closing the gap between them and lacing an arm around his lover. 

"Yeah… Course, we did. She… She lived the best life she could ever have dreamt of. We… We treated her really well. I mean…" Mundy had to stop for an instant, to steady his breath. "We loved her so much… She was like… She was our baby, our little baby girl and… And you cooked for her from time to time and she'd always be there in the house… She'd be… She'd be playin' around with us and… Gosh, she was the best kitty ever. She was friendly and never attacked anyone. She loved to be the centre of attention and yeah, she loved pets and scratches and all that…"

"Mundy, I miss her…" Lucien turned and buried his head in Mundy's chest before crying more. 

Grieving took weeks. The house was oddly silent. No one was there to steal the chicken when Lucien was preparing it. No one was shedding their white hairs on Lucien's clothes. No one would wake Mundy up early for nothing else but attention. No one would nap in impossible locations and positions. And when either Lucien or Mundy opened the cupboard in the kitchen, no one came and meowed for treats.

The silence sometimes screamed loud. The absence of meows and noises of claws on the wooden floor was unbearable. 

That day, months after Perle had passed, Mundy was cleaning the house and realised that they hadn't dealt with Perle's toys, her bed, her cat tree and scratching post. All of her was still there, in the house. Neither him or Lucien had the strength to throw it away. It still counted too much. Mundy stared at Perle's little bed. He had built it with a few wooden planks and a pillow. Lucien had always chosen the pillow cases. They were all girly pink, or white with red hearts for example.

Mundy stared and stared. He sighed and Lucien saw him walk to the front door and take an umbrella. 

"Where are you going, mon amour?"

[My love]

"I won't be long." 

The Aussie exited the house. It was pouring outside and the umbrella was barely enough to protect him. He walked and walked. His heeled boots splashed into the thin layer of rain water on the pavement. 

Lucien was left home, alone. He hated it. He didn't know what to do. He tried watching some television, doing some chores, anything! The silence was making him mad. He did all the chores and even prepared some dinner, in the middle of the bloody afternoon, just to keep him busy, and the house a bit noisy! 

He ended up in the kitchen, looking through the French window where the grass had grown back, in that little corner. He had planted a little olive tree there now. Why? Because they had another one and Perle loved climbing it and playing with the olives when the time of the year was right. So there it was, the baby olive tree, growing as well as it could. 

Lucien sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. Mundy, please come back soon…

And as if God himself had heard him, the front door opened. 

"Mundy?"

"Yeah, love, it's me, I'm back, darl'."

Lucien went to him and took the umbrella away. 

"Where did you go? It is pouring rain outside, couldn't it wait? Look at you, you are drenched."

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. I had to pick this up." 

"Couldn't a new pair of shoes wait?" Lucien answered and took the drenched shoe box that Mundy was holding. "You left me alone and… It was horrible!" 

Mundy removed his boots and his jacket. 

"Look, gimme just a second. I'll take a quick shower and be right back with you."

Lucien looked at the shoe box and frowned. He put it next to Mundy's shoes near the front door and went to prepare some coffee. 

When the Aussie came back fresh and dry, he hugged his lover from behind in the kitchen and kissed his temple. 

"Hey, love."

Lucien didn't answer. 

"Where did you put the box I brought with me?" 

The Frenchman frowned.

"Next to your shoes."

"Oh, ok, be right back." Mundy went and returned a second later. "Love, come and sit on the sofa." 

Lucien grabbed both their coffee mugs and came to the living-room. He took a seat on the sofa and put the coffees on the coffee table. 

"Here." Mundy handed him the box. 

"Mundy, I do not need shoes." 

"Take it." 

"Mundy-"

"I said, take it. Open it and see." 

Lucien sighed. He took the box that he put on his lap and stared at it blankly for a second. He hated boxes now. 

"C'mon, open it." 

He placed his fingers left and right and lifted the cover. 

"Mon Dieu!" 

[My God!]

In the box lay a kitten. It was all grey and very fluffy with still its kitten fuzz. 

"What is this, Mundy?" 

"It's a kitten."

"I know, but what… I mean why?" Lucien asked, staring at the ball of fluff looking everywhere around it. 

"Meow…?" The mewl was adorable and it pinched Lucien's heart. 

"It's a baby girl. She's about two months old now. No one wants to adopt her cause people don't find grey cats pretty, so I took her from the shelter."

Lucien gently picked her up in his palms and pushed the box away to drop her on his lap. 

"What is her name?" 

"We can name her whatever we want, love." He smiled and Lucien's eyes filled with tears. He raised the kitten to his chest and hugged her dearly.

"Mon Dieu… She… She is so soft and…" 

"Yeah, she was the last one of the litter too. All her brothers and sisters got adopted."

"Poor creature…" Lucien's tears beaded at the corner of his eyes and as he blinked, they slid down his slim cheeks. 

"Yeah…" Mundy got closer and hugged his lover. "So what d'you wanna call her?" 

"Perle." Lucien answered without thinking for one second. 

"You sure? You named Pearl that way cause she was white. This one's grey."

"I know. But look at her… You did not see Perle when I rescued her but she looked similar to this one. She was a ball of grey hair too."

"We should name her something different." Mundy said. "She's not Pearl and she will never be her."

"I know, I just…"

The kitten mewled in Lucien's hands. He put her on his shoulder and she went to his neck and started playing with his face and his hair.

"Hey, it's fine. Let's have a think, yeah? She's grey this little one. What's grey?"

"I do not know…"

"Clouds?"

"Non." Lucien chuckled under the kitten's mewls. He offered more of his face and she touched his cheeks and headbutted him. "She is very excited…! Non, non, non, this is Papa's nose, don’t use your claws.”

“Meow!”

“Don’t talk back either, petit chaton cendré.”

“What did you call her?”

“Little ashen cat.” Lucien answered, playing with her on his lap.

“Ashy!”

“What?” 

“Her name. She could be Ash, Ashy, something like that.”

“What about Cinderella?” Lucien asked.

“Meow?”

“It comes from Cinder which is grey, non?”

“Yeah, go for Cinderella, or Cindy for short.” Mundy answered. “What would that be in French?”

“Cendrillon.” Lucien answered. “A beautiful, princess name.” 

The kitten played with his fingers.

“Now, I am Papa, and this scruffy man here is Dad.”

“Meow?”

“Scruffy?” Mundy repeated.

“Oui, you are scruffy, but I love your scruffiness.”

“Scruffy?” He repeated again and Lucien held the kitten up, facing Mundy.

“Cendrillon, do you find your Dad to be scruffy?”

“Meow!”

“See, she does!”

“No, she doesn’t!”

Both chuckled and Lucien freed their new baby on the carpet. She started discovering her vast new territory, one that she would soon call home. Meanwhile, Papa and Dad were still on the sofa.

“Thank you, Mundy.” Lucien snuggled against his lover.

“Hey now, it’s nothing.”

“Non, it is everything. I did not even think about saving a new kitten.”

“Nah, you can’t think straight when you’re sad, baby.” Mundy held his lover closer and kissed his hair. “Feel a bit better?”

“Oui, thanks to you again.”

“Bah, my pleasure, really. I love seeing that smile on your old face.”

“Old?!” Lucien exclaimed, his eyes opening wide.

“Well, if I’m scruffy, then you’re old.”

“Old?!”

“You're a good kind of old, like wine. You just keep gettin’ better and better. Can’t get enough of you.”

Mundy’s hands and lips made the Frenchman’s brain melt and his complaint dissolved in the heat of the embrace.

[amethystroselilith]

Would you mind something if I posed this to you? I'll leave it up to you if you decide to go either the headcanon route or a short story route, but how would the MLQC boys react if MC grabbed them in the middle of the night while having a semi-realistic scary dream about them?

This is really long overdue, and I’m sorry if you forgot or don’t care about this anymore, anon, but I still want to do this! DISCLAIMER: This is my first headcanon and it’s pretty obvious who’s my favourite... I also deeply apologise to Kiro and Lucien stans that stumbled upon this and made them to ooc especially Lucien... ._.

MLQC Dateables HCs with MC who had a Nightmare

GAVIN

Despite Gavin always lecturing you about staying up late, he found himself being a hypocrite ever since you two had moved in together.

It just felt so surreal for him, he used to just watch you longingly from afar before, but now.. you have acknowledged his existence, welcomed him in your life and now share it with him.

There are always those quiet late nights where Gavin can’t help but reflect on how his life is going. How he feels like he won life as he watches his lover sleep beside him. 

Gavin always treasures these nights, enjoying the peacefulness on your face, smiling amusedly as he listens to you sleep talk…

The man is just obsessed with you basically.

He frowned when he noticed your face starting to transition to discomfort, soft whimpers starting to escape your lips. 

Your hold on him started to tighten as if trying to seek comfort. You started crying for his name and Gavin can’t help but feel his heart break knowing he’s causing you this pain.

Gavin gently wakes you up, whispering your name softly as he rubs your back. It felt worse when you opened your teary eyes.

Gavin does not like the miserable look on your face.

Once you’ve calmed down, Gavin tries to find out what made you upset, determined to do the best he can to avoid whatever hurt you.

It was him never coming back home from his mission.

He held you close, his heart swelling at the confirmation of how much he meant to you. He’s happy that you love him as much as loves you.

He lifted your chin gently to look at him, thumb gently wiping the tears away. A new determination fired inside him.

“Y/N, whatever it takes, I will always come back home to you.” 

He sealed the promise with a kiss.

VICTOR

Victor can’t help but smile in amusement as he realised you had fallen asleep beside him, your laptop still open in front of you.

Once he got home earlier, you were excited about having a relaxing movie night, only to be turned down because of more paperwork.

The man just chuckled at your cute pout before giving you a soft kiss on your forehead before announcing not to wait up for him as he will be staying up late in his office.

He didn’t expect you to enter his office with your laptop.

He raised an eyebrow as you took the seat across him.

“It’s not comfortable to watch your movie here, dummy, wouldn’t you rather be on a comfy bed with a large tv?”

You huffed and said you’re working as well.

Victor raised an eyebrow and teased you about procrastinating, but nonetheless, he knew how you can be stubborn and just let you work until he thinks it’s time for you to take a break. 

He knows you’ve been working so hard these past few days. Finishing whatever work you have left to finally enjoy your vacation. Victor has been longing for that as well, however, the nature of his job and how Victor wanted everything to be flawless to the point of not being disturbed during his time with you made it take a bit longer for him to finish everything he needed.

Not liking how little the comfort you must be having right now, Victor stood and walked over to you. He released a little chuckle when he saw what you’ve been working on.

Apparently, you’ve just been watching random stuff on YouTube.

The thought of you just staying there to be with him brought a huge smile on his face, you two weren’t talking that much, however, but he still likes the thought of you just wanting to be around his presence.

He fixed your stuff before carrying you to the bedroom you two share.

As he entered the room, he began to hear soft sniffles. Wanting you to be comfortable first, he tried to put you down on the bed, only for you to cling on his shirt with a whimper.

Victor decided to sit on the bed with you on his lap, softly nudging you awake as it’s apparent you’re having a nightmare. 

“Hey… what’s wrong? What did you dream about?” he gently asks as he stroke your hair, doing everything he can to calm you down.

He frowned when you talked about him leaving you for someone way more worthy of his time.

“Dummy, there’s no one I’d rather spend the eternity with besides you.” 

He declared as he leaned his forehead against yours.

KIRO

No matter how exhausting Kiro’s day was, he’s always excited in spending the night with you. 

He would be on tour in a few weeks and you two had been spending the time before that together.

Games, movies, food, etc…

You had fallen asleep on his chest during the movie, while Kiro is still up engrossed in the film.

You got his attention when you began to shift around, assuming that you’re starting to feel uncomfortable with your current position, he helped you settle down on what he thinks you’re comfortable with. 

Having no interest in the movie anymore. He turned off the tv, to cuddle with you.

He spooned you from behind and let the sleep take over him until he felt little hiccups from you.

“Y/N…?” he gently nudges you awake.

Kiro became alarmed when you’re full on sobbing now, shifting your position yet again as if you’re looking for something.

You whined when your hand finally grabbed his shirt, tugging him closer.

Kiro’s heart broke when he heard the “Don’t leave me please…” cries from you.

He held you tight, singing softly as he rubs your back and kissing your tears away.

He whispers eternity promises in your ears, promises he vowed to keep as long as he lives.

“Miss Chips, you’ll always be the person I want by my side.” 

He continues to sing softly, slowly lulling himself to sleep as he held you tight.

LUCIEN

Lucien had always been a light sleeper. You’re not really happy with that fact since the man barely gets sleep due to his work and the fact that even you can sometimes disrupt his rest.

He doesn’t really mind, to be honest. It’s something he can’t really change and he’s used to it.

The man can’t help but be amused as you present some of your “research” about his condition and how you can help. Some of them are fake but Lucien doesn’t have the heart to tell those when you’re too excited to try it. He sometimes even fake the result to please you.

Either way, Lucien really appreciates the gesture and treasures it. 

Another perk of this is how he can easily be aware of his surroundings and protect you when in danger.

That’s kind of the case tonight.

He was jolted awake with a sudden cry and a grab on his arm. 

His initial thoughts were someone tried to take you away from him. 

Lucien was prepared to fight until he realised whoever was making you cry is impossible for him to fight. At least physically.

His eyes soften as he pulled you close, gently shaking you to pull you away from whatever was hurting you in your dreams.

He didn’t expect, however, for you to bawl your eyes more when you realised you woke him up. It didn’t help when you were dreaming of him leaving you for being a pain to be with.

Lucien just chuckled, shushing you softly as he wipes your tears. 

“My love, trust me, you’re the best thing that ever blessed me, and nothing will ever change that.” 

He smiled before kissing the back of your hand.

[houseofhurricane]

ACOTAR Fic: Bloom & Bone (19/28) | Elain x Tamlin, Lucien x Vassa

Summary: Elain lies about a vision and winds up as the Night Court’s emissary to the Spring Court, trying to prevent the Dread Trove from falling into the wrong hands and wrestling with the gifts the Cauldron imparted when she was Made. Lucien, asked to join her, must contend with secrets about his mating bond. Meanwhile, Tamlin struggles to lead the Spring Court in the aftermath of the war with Hybern. And Vassa, the human queen in their midst, wrestles with the enchantment that turns her into a firebird by day, robbing her of the power of speech and human thought. Looming over all of them is uniquet peace in Prythian and the threat of Koschei, the death-god with unimaginable power. With powers both magical and monstrous, the quartet at the Spring Court will have to wrestle with their own natures and the evil that surrounds them. Will the struggle save their world, or doom it?

A/N: Lucien attempts to return the Autumn Court to its rightful High Lord, while trying to figure out the worsening effects of the curse on Vassa. You can find all previous chapters here, or read Bloom & Bone on AO3. Thank you for reading! ❤️ If you'd like to get an early preview on the next chapter, follow me on Instagram at @house.of.hurricane.

The days after Vassa’s rescue are so filled with political deliberation between the High Lords and nobles of Prythian that even Lucien’s mind, so accustomed to strategy and scheming, is overwhelmed. He had planned for his reunion with Vassa to feature sleepless nights and tangled sheets, a variety of creative positions and a thousand different sounds of pleasure leaving Vassa’s lips. Instead, as soon as the meetings are over for the day, a member of the Night Court winnows her to the day’s meeting place so that she can join the long dinners, then ferries her to the Spring Court where she and Lucien fall into sleep. She reaches for him, insists despite the pain he can see in her eyes, the tears that fall as soon as their kisses reach a fevered pitch.

He always rises to find that in sleep, she has rolled to the farthest corner of the bed, where he cannot touch her even accidentally.

Still, when he tries to ask her what he can do, how he can help, she insists that he has other priorities. As if he cannot see the darkness around her eyes, the way that, in mere days, she’s grown almost frail. A shadow of herself.

When it’s decided there will be an attempt at diplomacy with the Autumn Court, Vassa rouses herself, invites Tamlin and Elain to join them for champagne to celebrate their emissaries, Lucien and Elain both having been selected.

“You’ll make sure she’s out of danger,” Tamlin says to Lucien as soon as they clink glasses, and Lucien, nodding, sees Vassa roll her eyes at Elain, who smothers her answering laugh behind her hands.

“You’re sure a firebird would not advance your cause?” Vassa asks, the joke turning plaintive. Elain reaches out her hand and then drops it, a thump against her skirts, before she can harm Vassa with a conciliatory touch. They’d agreed that the risk to Vassa did not merit the benefit of the clear alliance with the human realms. Not when the stories of Lucien and Vassa had begun to spread.

“I will keep him safe, Queen of Scythia,” Elain says after a moment, the smile in her voice, returning them to the moment, the kind of camaraderie she’d longed for in those weeks at the Night Court.

“Good,” Vassa says, and for a moment her face is alight as it ever was, her eyes sapphire-bright, “because I never worry about you anymore, Elain Archeron. You listen very well to me. Unlike certain High Fae males who love to hover over extremely capable women.”

She shoots a glance at Lucien, her lips pursed comically, and when he allows himself to laugh, he feels the brightness spread over his body, more intoxicating than the sparkling wine. He lets himself pretend, just for the space of an evening, that everything is fine, that this haven could be a lasting one, that he will hear these three laughing and teasing and happy all his life.

Before dawn, she kisses him and sets off for the lake alone.

“You can save this world with your words alone,” she says, her fingers on his face, gentle on the scars that surround his ruined eye. Watching her expression, he’d never know this gesture caused her pain. Still, knowing what he knows, Lucien cannot bring himself to take another kiss.

“I’ll save you next,” he tells her.

“Or you’ll watch as I save myself, Vanserra.” She smiles then, and swings herself from the bed to the door in a single fluid motion, as if they existed in a moment they have never known, when everything was all right.

Before the rest of the manor wakes, Lucien lights a candle, busies himself with the strategies, all the reminders he wants to give the rest of the diplomatic party, which will comprise Nesta, Elain and himself. It had been agreed that the High Lords would stay out of the initial stage of negotiations, and still Lucien worries that this group is too small, too tied to the Night Court, with two Archeron sisters with largely unknown powers who were all too recently human. And yet he has held his tongue. Because Elain has surprised him and Nesta has terrified him, and all three sisters seem to have a knack for prevailing when the rest of Prythian thinks they’re doomed.

For a moment, he wishes that he could consult Eris, but his brother has been staying in the Night Court, no doubt to Morrigan’s dismay. Still, given Rhysand’s relative strength, it makes sense to mark him as an ally. And for all that Lucien likes his brother in spite of himself, he much prefers the nights he spends in the Spring Court without the threat of his judgement and withering remarks.

Instead of ruminating over the past, he takes one more breath, reviews his notes, all the things that could unfold today, and decides that he is as ready as he can be.

By the time Lucien joins Elain and Tamlin for breakfast, he’s decided that the mission will prevail. Elain has even worn a dress in the tawny browns and deep greens of the Autumn Court, tied her hair back from her face with a red ribbon.

“Those colors don’t suit you,” Tamlin is saying, lifting a cherry turnover from the serving platter to her plate.

“What colors would you prefer me in, High Lord?” Elain’s cheeks are pink and while Lucien is sure that there are headier implications to her question, he decides he will not consider them.

Instead, he heaps his plate high and talks through the strategy with Elain, more for Tamlin’s benefit than hers.

“Do you think that Nesta will behave herself?” Tamlin asks, once the review is complete.

“Nesta likes Eris more than anybody,” Elain responds, in a tone that barely covers her amazement.

“Nesta’s job is to be terrifying,” Lucien adds.

“It’s what she’s best at, isn’t it?”

It is, of course, Nesta behind him, and Lucien shoots Elain a look, asking how will she kill me? Elain, standing to greet her sister, does not cover her commiserating smile, which seems to suggest his death is imminent.

“You’re ready for the Autumn Court?” Nesta asks Elain, who stand alongside the grand table, a study in contrasts. Nesta has come in her Illyrian, her hair braided in a crown on her head and her sword at her side. Her body is small but all of its angles are fierce, almost severe. Next to her, Elain looks impossibly soft, so gentle that Lucien is reminded why everyone always underestimates her.

But still Elain shoots back, “I’m the one taking us there. You’ll know when I’m ready for the Autumn Court. Would you like Lucien to remind you of the strategy?”

“Rhys and Feyre woke me up early to review. You’d think the dignity of the Night Court was at stake.”

“Only the peace in Prythian,” Lucien drawls, his eyes darting to Tamlin who, as expected, has his knife and fork clutched in an extremely tight grip.

“Feyre told me the same thing before she crawled inside my mind,” Nesta says, running her eyes over Lucien, redoubling her statement. “I know I’m only to speak when you want me to scare them.”

“And if Koschei is there, you do not fight him,” Elain adds, smoothing her fingers over her skirts. “Let Lucien winnow you.”

“You’ll let Lucien winnow you also,” Tamlin says, his voice strangled with restraint. Lucien can tell that he is trying very hard not to loom over Elain.

“I will let Lucien winnow me,” Elain echoes, meeting his eye as her cheeks go pink. Nesta lets out a sigh that sounds very like a snarl, and if it weren’t a sign of worry, Lucien would bury his head in his hands.

There are a thousand more important things at this moment than romantic tension. And still Lucien wishes this was his only problem.

So instead he meets Tamlin’s eye and promises to winnow Elain, does not look away from Nesta’s glare as he tells her that she is welcome to speak, he’s heard she has good diplomatic instincts, but he will welcome her sword if everything goes to shit.

Then, because for a moment he feels like his old self again, he meets Elain’s eyes and says, “Let’s see if you’re a real emissary now.”

When Elain sticks out her tongue at him, it’s impossible to hold back his laugh.

“Feyre is having too much fun watching you,” Nesta says, extending her hand towards her other sister. “Now can you please take us to the Autumn Court so I can stop hearing her cackle in my mind? I don’t think it’s good form to be late.”

Elain’s smile flickers out but she reaches for Lucien and Nesta, lets the tethering spell bind them, and the Spring Court rips away.

&

&

&

The wall of fire around the Autumn Court castle is new.

“I told you we should have arrived directly inside,” Nesta says, eyeing the unbroken flames.

“It would be an act of war to simply appear inside the court itself,” Lucien says as levelly as he can, reaching out to the wall of fire with his own magic, scanning it with his golden eye. There are protective and defensive spells interwoven with the fire itself, powerful enough that unraveling the magic isn’t a practical option. Anyway, an alarm has likely sounded.

Sure enough, the flames part just wide enough to let a person pass.

Lucien knows things are headed to shit when he doesn’t recognize the gangly squire who appears to greet them. He had hoped that his mother would be the one to welcome their group, even if his brothers would have been the more appropriate group, would-be High Lords welcoming the delegation sent by the other rulers of Prythian.

Instead they are welcomed like beggars, and the young male who greets them looks nervous.

He sees Nesta reach for her sword and doesn’t bother to try and restrain her. His brothers begin with disrespect and then quickly move to violence.

“We are the delegation sent by the High Lords of Prythian,” Elain says, her voice honeyed in a way that makes this nervous page blush and fidget. “Lady Cybele should be expecting us after our message.”

“Cybele d-doesn’t rule this court,” the page says, trying out a nasty tone that distorts his features.

Elain flexes her fingers and her skin takes on a golden glow that is distinct from the firelight. When he glances at Nesta, he sees silver flames flicker to life in her eyes. He wishes they would save this bravado for his brothers, but at any rate, the page grows pale.

“We’ve come to meet with whoever does rule this court.” Elain’s voice is now too pleasant. “And I’m sure you can agree that we should expect to find that a brother of its ruler welcome to enter without this kind of horrible scrutiny.”

“I was told that the b-bastard has to stay outside.”

Elain turns her glance to Lucien, her eyes gone wide. She can pull Nesta from the world, but if Koschei is inside, Lucien was always intended to be the quick exit.

Nesta interrupts, fingers wrapped around the sword at her hip.

“Who is inside the castle, boy?” Her impression of Amren is impeccable, and the page’s face grows pale.

He reaches for Elain but Lucien is too swift, and in half a breath the darkness has enveloped them and released them to the forests of the Autumn Court.

“He was going to take you to Koschei,” Lucien says before Elain can begin her protest. “Thank the Mother that my brothers are too stupid to train their henchmen.”

“Tell Feyre that we’ll need protection at the Spring Court,” Elain says to Nesta, squeezing Lucien’s fingers as she gives the order. “They could be coming for Vassa next.”

“The Valkyries are guarding her today,” Nesta says, “but we should get out of this court before we have to deal with any more Vanserras.”

“One is enough?” he asks, preparing the tethering spell, snipping its edges so that only the three of them can be carried by Elain’s magic.

“I’m fairly certain you and Eris are the only decent ones.”

“His mother is trapped in that castle,” Elain points out, grabbing tight to Lucien’s wrist, to Nesta’s. The forest becomes the passageways, becomes a winter forest scented with pine, a marketplace, an expanse of tall concrete buildings seemingly held to the clouds by magic, becomes, finally, the great hall of the Spring Court, where Tamlin waits, clad in his battle armor, two swords strapped across his back.

Behind him, still in his flawless court jacket and shining boots, Eris waits. And it is to that spotless figure that Elain runs, all the colors of autumn, her magic still aglow on her face.

Lucien launches himself after her but there’s a hand on his chest. Nesta. A warning in her eyes that he can’t decipher.

Elain stops inches from Eris, close enough that his features are cast in her golden light. Behind her, Tamlin looms, a sword drawn in his hand, ready to strike. But Elain does not hear or notice him. Her focus is only on Eris.

“Will you break the alliance with Koschei?” she asks, her hands on her hips.

“We’ve discussed this at length,” Eris says. Lucien can see in the tightness of his jaw that he’s trying to determine whether Elain can kill him, whether Tamlin will slice him to bits at her command. That he’s realizing the relative weakness of his own position, his rightful position as High Lord dependent on too many factors. That if Elain tried to destroy him, perhaps nobody would stop her.

“I am asking you as emissary of the Spring Court and friend to the Queen of Scythia. As the person who helped rescue you from Koschei, the death-lord who holds you under a curse. I am asking as the female who can harm you with a single brush of my fingers thanks to his spell on you.”

“I didn’t think you realized that it wasn’t only your human friend under his spell,” Eris says, and nobody can miss the way he leans back from Elain, an unmistakable confirmation.

“Koschei will try to tear apart Prythian until he claims both Vassa and me. He is likely searching for you as well.”

There’s a shift in Eris’ features, a pain he tries to hide, and suddenly the situation becomes deadly clear to Lucien.

“What did he promise you?” he calls to his brother, the only one he has a sliver of hope in. In a flash of movement, Tamlin’s sword is pointed at Eris, and Nesta surges toward him, coming alongside Elain with her own blade pointed at the would-be High Lord of Autumn.

“I haven’t allied with him,” Eris says, managing to smirk even at the steel pointed at him, all the allies he stands to lose. “But there are whispers that he can break this curse on me. A curse which a High Lord cannot bear. Not if he will truly rule his people.”

Elain steps toward him, her skirts sighing. She’s so close that Eris could grab her if he wanted, Eris who never shows his hand until it suits him.

“I know what it is to be a pawn,” she says. “And I am working to understand the complexity of Koschei’s magic. I don’t know, yet, how we could release you from this curse but I am working to find out. When I learn how, I will unbind you myself.”

“They should write legends about the overconfidence of your family,” Eris says, assessing her.

“If you ally with Koschei, Eris, they will never write legends about you at all,” Nesta points out, letting the tip of her sword snag on a button, which falls to the ground with a ping. “And you will lose the allegiance of the Night Court.”

Tamlin only tucks Elain against his side. He knows the allegiance of the Spring Court does not much matter, especially to a member of the Autumn Court, who so easily invaded.

When Lucien finally speaks, he’s surprised at how easily the words fall from his lips. As if he had been dreaming them.

“If you vow to fight against Koschei,” he says to his brother, “I vow that I will not rest until the High Lords of Prythian go united into battle for your throne. You should know that I have friends in every court who listen to my counsel. You will not reclaim the throne without allies. And together, perhaps those same allies could join together and rid you of Koschei’s curse.”

He’s thrown in this last without knowing if it’s possible, without knowing if the High Lords would ever agree, especially given what happened to Feyre, but Elain stiffens at Tamlin’s side, the gesture her body makes when she has a new idea.

“I haven’t forgotten that you killed my father,” Eris says, finally, and the words sound like a threat, but Lucien knows his brother well enough to see the relief in his voice, the tiniest hint of the smile he’s unable to hide from a practiced observer.

“Beron tried to harm my friends.” Lucien meets his brother’s eyes, lets his meaning become clear. He lets his magic, the light and fire, burn in the air around him.

Eris steps back, away from the swords and the tense and thickening magic.

“Promise you’ll free me from this curse and I vow I will never ally with the death-lord Koschei.”

“As soon as Vassa is free, we will free you,” Lucien says, watches as Elain nods, as Tamlin lowers his sword, and Nesta reluctantly follows. “But first, it seems we will need to go to war for your throne.”

[thenovelartist]

Childhood Friends Headcanon -MLQC

I’m sorry to all the people who come to my blog for ML only to get bombarded by posts for MLQC. But I’m enjoying myself.

Premise: What if the boys and MC actually stayed together once they met?

(Note: Minor spoilers for chapters 7-13, particularly surrounding boys backstories.)

Gavin

He’ll never forget that day in the rain meeting MC.

She knew about him—his reputation preceded him—and it was clear she was leery of him.

But with a little time, she came around.

So much so that she was sad that he graduated before her.

He was kinda sad, too, to be honest. He didn’t want to leave her.

But they never lost touch. Made sure to meet up as frequently as they could.

He didn’t attend his high school graduation—he both didn’t care and thought the everyone else would appreciate him not being present—but she did watch him with pride as he graduated his cop training program.

He almost cried over the fact that he actually had someone there to support him. He didn’t have familial support, but that didn’t really matter anymore when he had his own personal cheerleader.

He surprised her by showing up at her high school graduation.

Not really a “Surprise” but she was still wildly excited to see him, nonetheless.

Though they didn’t get to see each other often—Gavin busy with his demanding job and MC busy with college—they were instantly contacting the other when they had a moment of free time.

Gavin totally tried to coordinate his days off with hers.

They were that couple that claimed they were just friends but looked to the world like they were dating while also each wishing they were actually dating but both being too chicken to confess.

But Gavin finally gets the guts one day.

No surprise MC quickly followed up with a confession of her own.

How do you date?

They’d been so close and doing couple-y things for so long. Like, what was even a date compared to what they normally did?

They decided to do something they wouldn’t normally do and have a nice, truly ‘couple-y’ dinner.

Then they chuckled all the way home because that really wasn’t their style.

Still enjoyed it.

Gavin took her home, dropping her off at her door… and totally chickened out of kissing her goodnight.

They try the “date” thing again. This time, something more casual.

And that time, it did end with a kiss.

Gavin’s little mind went “boom”.

Already positive he’s gonna marry this girl.

Waits a little longer to propose, though. Just to make it seem like he’s not rushing it.

Courthouse wedding a few months later. Her father witnesses.

Then when her father passes shortly after, leaving her with the company, she’s constantly having to ask her coworkers for new copies of documents because she’s not used to signing her new last name quite yet. Especially when everyone still calls her by her maiden name. Or sometimes addresses her like they would her late father. (It’s a change for everyone.)

She’s got it down in a couple of days and likes her new signature better than her old one.

After marriage, Gavin also has a problem of his own. Particularly with the ring on his hand.

It’s his new nervous tick to play with it when he’s stressed on a scouting mission. And when he has to take it off for an undercover one, he’s a mess without it on.

Feels like he’s being unfaithful to the love of his life. MC has had to reassure him many times he’s not but secretly is touched that he feels that way.

These two have disastrous schedules, which is why when they both have time off they can spend together, phones go on silent. Someone can literally come to their house if it’s an emergency.

Kiro

They make it out of the lab together.

Poor kids were terrified out of their mind, each only five. They never let go of each other’s hands during their escape.

And they don’t want to be separated afterwards.

These two kids are each other’s “emotional support person.”

Literally inseparable.

These kids’ guardians bend over backwards to accommodate them. MC has a killer set of puppy dog eyes, but Kiro’s pout is downright impossible to resist.

They end up in the same classes at school.

Play together on the playground at recess and spend lunches together.

They are the “class couple.” And do get teased for it.

They’re told to ignore it, but it still takes a toll on them.

Eventually, Kiro steps out of school to become home-schooled, thanks to his music career.

Oh, these two kids do not know how to handle themselves.

But they are growing up and they can be apart from each other, right?

Right?

Wrong.

They survive not being in class together, but the moment they’re each out of school, they are attached to their phones, texting or calling each other.

Get together to hang out as much as humanly possible.

Kiro has 1000% both snuck off sets to go see MC and snuck MC onto sets to have her around.

MC has also enabled Kiro’s snacking by sneaking him anything he desires.

Usually it’s chips. She’s his chip dealer. Which only leads to the nickname “Miss Chips”.

They were so close that this mutual crush thing was absolutely unavoidable and unsurprising to most people who watched them.

They were fifteen and each exploring their feelings for each other and what dating was like.

And by sixteen, these two were totally making out in closets.

Savin just deals. As long as it doesn’t get out to the public, he’s fine with it. They’re generally discrete, anyway.

Though, the poor guy has had to hunt Kiro’s hiding spot down more than once. Generally, he scopes out the building beforehand so he knows where to find Kiro and MC if the superstar disappears from set.

Kiro would totally get her a promise ring. “I can’t officially propose now, but… I don’t think I’m going to be letting my Miss Chips go anytime in the future.”

She’s in tears.

Kiro’s already planned out proposing to her as soon as they are eighteen and has scoped out the perfect wedding venue.

Though, Savin now has to do everything in his power to keep the whole thing under wraps. He thinks it’s best the public doesn’t know Kiro’s getting married so young. They’ll slowly break it later.

MC travels with him everywhere, attending school online for convenience sake.

But when her dad passes and she has to take over the company, Kiro does his best to settle down more in Loveland to be by her side and support her more.

He fights to film exclusively at her company.

They totally have a closet that they make out in there, too. One MC has the sole key to.

Victor

He doesn’t loose track of her during their escape from that hellhole disguised as a “lab”.

She saves him, and he manages to carry her to safety.

Refuses to be separated from her after that.

Victor soon becomes like her over-protective big brother.

If he’s with her, he’s got his eye on her. And he’s with her a lot.

He’s so soft with her. Yes, there’s name calling on occasion, but he’s always met with a giggle when he calls her ‘dummy.’

He doesn’t really mean it, anyways.

Totally helps her with her homework.

And she always helps him in the kitchen. Rather, she tries and just ends up being the dishwasher after an incident with the fire alarm.

But she’s just happy if pudding is involved.

And though Victor swears he’s not going to make pudding every single night… there’s pudding more nights than not.

She goes to all his graduations; high school and college.

And he’s there supporting her at hers, looking on like the proud big brother his is.

“Good job, dummy.”

He totally teaches her how to write reports and such. Makes her do them and redo them until up to his standards.

“If you can impress me, you’ll win over anyone in the business world.”

Also teaches her all the ins and outs about running a business and how to thrive in the business world.

She’s always ready to take advice he offers.

Everyone in LFG knows that unless Victor actually is in an important meeting, MC is allowed in his office any time.

Has always seen her as his little sister.

Until she takes over her father’s company.

Suddenly, there’s a warmth in his chest as he watches her handle everything with ease.

It no longer feels like he’s watching over his little sister but rather watching a strong, capable woman handle the high-intensity job of running a company with confidence and poise.

… okay, poise was too generous a word. But his point still stood.

Suddenly, he notices she’s actually on his schedule. And their meeting takes place with none of the familiarity that they’ve become accustomed to.

He won’t coddle her as the business owner. She assures him she expects that from him.

And when she leaves his office, Victor finds himself a little bit of a mess.

They slowly lose their brother/sister mentality and grow into business partners that are close enough to have dinner a couple times a week.

“Question,’ he asks her one night. “Can these be considered ‘dates’ or not?”

She drops her fork in surprise.

They date for a several months before Victor proposes. He wouldn’t have proposed so early to anyone else but MC has always been an exception.

They put the wedding together in eight months. It’s a good, large, proper wedding, and they honeymoon out of the country. Because of course they do. Victor wants to give MC the best and only the best.

Total power couple, and Victor takes pride in that.

Lucien

This tree, or their tree, as Lucien likes to refer to it as, holds a very special place in his heart.

It started off as his sanctuary, the spot where he came out to draw.

But then it became the place that he got to bond with the girl who saved him.

After his parents were killed, everything went downhill for him at a rapid pace.

But she…

“It’s going to be okay.”

He still remembers the warmth of her hands when she held his and the tightness of her hugs she engulfed him in.

This girl’s smile lit up his dark world.

She’s the sole reason he escaped the pull of Black Swan.

Being four years apart as they were put a little gap between them growing up.

People looked at them in disdain so often that Lucien constantly lied about her being his sister.

He didn’t like that kind of attention from people, though he also logically knew why they received it.

Though he did his best to act respectfully and appropriately, he couldn’t help but feel all fluttery around MC. Every single time she came around, he had a physical reaction to her proximity.

Did his best to always act the gentleman. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

For now, he focused on his studies, partly because he found them interesting, partly because he wanted to be the kind of man who could provide well for his family.

Because he had his heart set on making one with her.

It was irrational, if he thought of it logically, to be become romantically attached to someone simply because he was emotionally attached to. Yet he could not separate the pull of romantic notions from his emotional relationship to her.

He eventually surrendered his attempts at trying to separate the two and gave up entirely in his quest to understand it.

He was already on his track to a doctorate when she graduated high school. And suddenly, them both being adults made those four years that separated them growing up seem a little less of a hurdle.

That’s when he asked her out.

“I had to wait so long, but I think now’s finally an appropriate time.”

And that’s when she admitted she had feelings for him, too.

It warmed his cold little heart.

They did take things slowly.

But they were already discussing marriage by the time MC had to take over the company when her father suddenly passed.

Honestly, though it was a terrible tragedy, Lucien is glad he finally gets to return the favor of being there for her just as she was there for him all those years ago.

He also decides to hide the ring he’d bought in a drawer, only to open it again when things were stable.

Well… relatively. The life of a media company manager is never fully stable. Mostly, Lucien just got tired of waiting.

He takes her back to their tree to propose.

They get married there, too.

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Surprises

Chapter 11 a day early because I couldn’t resist. A bit of a longer one this is too:)

Thank you @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares for checking this over for me😘

Full Masterlist.

Previous Chapter.

Surprises Masterlist.

I had no gif for this one because I don’t want to give things away😏

Chapter 11

—————

Cassian thought that today was going to be a quiet day with his brothers...until the girls came back with arms full of bags and a long story about each item they had bought.

He was wrong, so very wrong.

After the girls had disappeared out of the door, they had spent the first hour on cleaning up so their mother wouldn’t have to do anything when she got back from her shift at the hospital. People used to bully him often at being adopted, throwing words such as ‘bastard’ and ‘orphan’ at him, but he didn’t care. This was the best home he’d ever had, and no amount of verbal abuse would make him resent it. Ever.

It was now mid-afternoon and the girls still hadn’t come back when they were usually done by lunch, so he and his brothers decided to watch a movie, and Cassian smirked as he listened to Rhys and Az grumbling since it was his turn to pick.

“Cass, we’ve watched Mission Impossible so many times already. Can’t we watch something else?” Azriel groaned.

“It’s my turn to choose and this is what we’re watching.”

Rhys just threw a handful of popcorn at him, which he ate one by one, and relaxed in the chair as he accepted his fate.

Thirty minutes later, there was a muffled bang of the front door before feet were stomping down the stairs to the basement. He turned his head away from the TV in time to see Nesta turn the corner.

“Hey sweet-“

He stopped talking once he got a look at the murderous rage written across her face.

“You’re a dead man.”

She said it with such calmness that it actually gave Cassian chills, but she wasn’t looking at him nor Rhys - who had once been on the receiving end of her anger when she had caught him in a very compromising position with Feyre. No, this time that anger was directed at Azriel, and when he turned to look at his brother, he stood staring back - his face as white as a sheet. Before he could question her about what was wrong, his girlfriend had crossed the room, landed a right hook to his brother’s face, and had pinned him against the wall within the next second.

He moved fast then, hooking an arm around Nesta’s waist to pull her back against him and out of reach of Az, while Rhys fussed over their wounded brother.

“Nes, sweetheart, you need to calm down and use your words.”

She had stopped struggling when she realised he wasn’t letting go, but she was still tense in his arms and he flinched when she dug her nails into his forearm as she began to speak.

“He and Elain only started dating around a month ago, so I want him to explain to me how my sister is about four and a half months pregnant.”

He stilled at that and watched as Rhys turned to look at Nesta full of shock - as if he didn’t believe her at all.  Azriel’s expression was full of guilt as he tried and failed to explain.

“I- We just-,” a sigh, as if he was accepting defeat. “How do you know? I- it happened at that party we threw here. The two of us were drunk and we left to go to my room when I noticed how uncomfortable she was when Cass started a game of spin the bottle. We were going to tell everyone, but we just weren’t ready.”

Fuck, it was true. His brother had knocked up the sweetest girl in existence.

“Elain was in one of the fitting rooms trying on things Feyre picked when she collapsed. She wasn’t responding and she was unconscious by the time we got the door open and I had to call an ambulance.”

Azriel was on his feet faster than a speeding bullet, scarred hands shaking as he struggled to breathe.

“Is she alright? Are they alright?” He was near sobbing as he asked.

Nesta just stared blank faced at him and both he and Rhys flinched when Az, someone that had never raised his voice in anger, shouted;

“Fucking tell me, Nesta!”

“She collapsed from dehydration, so they’ve got her hooked up to an IV to get some fluids into her.”

“What about the baby?” Az asked. His voice was soft and shaky. Cassian had never seen his brother so scared, not even when he turned up at the door bloody and burnt all  those years ago.

“The baby is fine.”

He felt his heart ache slightly then when Azriel really did start sobbing, one hand clutching Rhys’ shoulder and the other  covering his face. It all sunk in fully at the sight and despite the tension in the room, he grinned.

“Lainy is having a baby? I’m going to be an Uncle?”

His girlfriend turned in his arms and stared at him for a moment before closing her eyes and grimacing.

Not good.

“Not if my Father has anything to do with it. He’s on his way to the hospital and if he’s off the rails again...this will not end well.”

Really, really not good.

oOoOo

Elain had barely spoken since she had woken up in the hospital to the sound of Nesta’s angry voice and Feyre’s soothing tones.

She blinked slowly trying to open her eyes, and was met with bright lights that had her squinting. Nesta was shouting but she didn’t know who or what she was shouting at.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s pregnant?”

Oh shit, shit, shit.

Feyre’s voice was soft as she tried to calm their sister down but it didn’t seem to be working from what she could tell.

“Nes calm down and let him speak.”

The doctor was visible now and, despite how bored he sounded, she could tell that he was slightly scared of Nesta. Who wouldn’t be when faced with the person everyone called the ‘she devil’?

“I’m sorry Miss. Archeron, but your sister really is pregnant. About four months and a few weeks along, actually.”

Nesta was already storming out of the room when she finally made her mouth work.

“Fey? I di-...I was going to tell you.”

Her sister was by her side in an instant, cradling her face between her palms.

“Shh, it’s alright El. She’ll come around but, uh, Dad is on his way.”

No, no, no.

“But he’ll-...he’s going to make me-“

“Elain, listen to me. You and Azriel have clearly made a decision. I will not let him take that from you. None of us will.”

She sobbed in her sister's arms then, sobbed until her voice was hoarse and she fell asleep from exhaustion.

Now she was sitting in her hospital bed waiting for a nurse to come in to take her for an ultrasound. They wanted to double check that everything with the baby was fine, so as much as she wanted to get out of the place, she would stay. For her baby, she would do everything that was necessary. Feyre was sitting in the chair on the other side of the room reading a magazine, and Elain was just about to ask if she could have a glass of water when there was a light knock at the door and a nurse walked in with her head down.

“Now Mis- wait Archeron? Elain?”

Elain’s head snapped up to see Rhys’ mother, Azriel and Cassian’s adoptive mother, Elysia, wide-eyed and gaping slightly in the doorway. As soon as she realised it really was who was written down, she rushed over to the bed, her ‘mom mode’ dial turned right up, fretting over her and lifting a hand to cup one side of her face.

“Gods, Elain, I had no idea you were here. If I had known I’d have come right away. This says you’re pregnant, is that, is it true?"

“Yes.” 

She said it as a whisper, knowing what question would come next and  silently bracing herself for the woman’s next reaction.

“Who’s the father? Is it Lucien?”

This is going to be fun.

“No ma’am, it’s not. The father is Azriel.”

She expected to see anger and disappointment on Elysia’s face, but instead she saw shock and surprise. It looked like she had no idea that Elain and Az were together, but there was a smile on her face as she spoke again.

 “I’m going to be a Grandma? And what’s all of this ‘ma’am’ business? How many times do I have to tell you girls to call me Lys?”

All she could do was smile warily and nod, and then the next thing she knew, she was brought into a bone crushing hug.

“I haven’t had a chance to have a real conversation with the boys in weeks with all of the overtime and extra shifts, I had no idea you were together. I’m going to be right here every step of the way now though, although I do wish you’d waited a while longer.”

“I’m sorry, Lys.”

“Nonsense. Now, let me get that ultrasound done, yes? Once they realise what I am to you they won’t let me do another, but you’ll be waiting forever for another nurse.”

While Elysia fiddled around with the machine, Feyre came over with a grin and helped her adjust her shirt ready. Before she had the horribly cold gel squeezed onto her abdomen, Elysia asked her one final question that Elain had no idea would scare her so much, but make her so incredibly excited all at once.

“Before we start, would you like to know the gender of your baby?”

Yes, yes she would.

oOoOo

It had been half an hour since Feyre had phoned Nesta to say they were on the way home, the Archeron’s home, and Azriel had run straight to his car, eager to meet them there. The others had followed, because of course they would. Nesta had told him that his mother knew now, as she had ended up being Elain’s nurse, and that their father had never turned up at the hospital. His brothers were almost vibrating with energy, obviously hoping to witness the scolding he would surely soon receive from their mother.

He was now pacing in front of the steps to the house, waiting for his mother’s familiar car to pull into the driveway and by the time he did see it, he was surprised he hadn’t burned a hole into the floor. As soon as Elain had stepped out of the car and began walking towards the house, he was running and he didn’t stop until he’d reached her and lifted her into his arms.

“Gods, you scared me so fucking much Ellie. You’re not leaving my sight again.”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He put her back onto her feet, but didn’t let go of her, keeping her tucked into his chest. He kissed all over her face before reluctantly pulling back and linking their hands together.

“But, you’re alright now though? Everything’s okay?”

“Yes, I’m alright, I promise.”

He didn’t want to ask the next question, but he had to. He had to know or he’d drive himself mad with worry.

“And the baby?”

Elain smiled at him then. That wide and beautifully bright smile that made him feel as if his legs would give out under him.

“Yes, she’s fine too.”

She. A girl.

He was going to have a girl, a beautiful little girl. He cried then, in front of everyone, lifting Elain back into his arms as he breathed out three little words that he hadn’t realised he’d felt until that moment.

“I love you. God, I love you.”

Azriel heard the catch in her breath before she crashed her mouth into his. It was hard and rough before he slowed it down, making it gentler. Their families were watching, but, in that moment, he didn’t care. He parted her lips with his as he tangled a hand in her hair, swallowing her moan as he ran his tongue across the roof of her mouth. She bit his lip and pulled before letting go and he felt the words as she spoke them... making it feel so much more intimate.

“I love you too.”

He tucked her face into the crook of his neck and then looked over her shoulder to see his mother with tears in her eyes, grinning widely at them both. Just as he was about to smile back, the sound of a car engine stopped him, and they all turned to see a car speeding into the drive, watching as it almost swerved into a wall. It pulled to a screeching stop, and then the girls’ father was stumbling out of the driver’s door, clearly drunk as he swayed from side to side with a half empty beer bottle in his hand. When he caught sight of Elain in Azriel’s arms, his face turned murderous.

And then he was coming at them, and Az only had a second to push Elain behind him before her father pulled back his arm with the bottle in his hand.

—————

*peeks from my hidey hole* I want you all to remember that I love you😬 Let me know if you want to be removed/added to the tags💙

Tags: @starlitfangirl @starsauroras @drunken-starz @myfriendscallmeraba @thesirenwashere @empress-sei @elrielllll @stars-falling @cirieael @verifiefangirl @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @fancyclodpaintercookie @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @silver-flames @queen-of-glass @bamchickawowow @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @b00kworm @kvi-arts @rhysandhlcor @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s @judexcardanxgreenbriar @junkiejosten10 @mu-si-ca-l @agem10 @harmonyindark245 @slightly-sane-fangirl @tanaquilpriscilla

[the-lonelybarricade]

What Do You Know About Love - (7/?)

Summary: When Elain discovers a centuries old love letter, written in secret and never sent, she decides that she's going to be the one to finally deliver it. Even if finding its intended recipient means going on a mission with Lucien Vanserra. Set post ACoSF.

A contribution to @elucienweekofficial Day 7: Tension/Healing

Chapter 7 - Push and Pull

Read on AO3 ・Previous Chapter

-

It was true what they said about the Celestial Courts. The seasons changed with the natural cycles of the world, which in itself was unusual, but the skies—they were unparalleled to anything she’d seen before.

She’d slipped away from the party to glimpse it in full, and was pleased to have found a small veranda laden with overstuffed pillows and a heavy cloth drape she pulled for privacy. Her father would be red in the face if he caught her collapsing into one of the pillows when she could be preening the ego of a High Lord’s son. Which was precisely why, moments prior, she’d tactically set one of the High Priestess’s acolytes upon him by exaggerating her father’s interest in the traditional rites of a Day Court Equinox.

From her estimates, she’d afforded herself at least an hour before he realized his middle daughter was missing, and perhaps an hour more before he discovered her hiding spot.

It didn’t matter that he would be furious. Her feet ached from the hours of dancing, and the relief of removing her shoes for even a second would be worth his temper.

She kicked the embroidered boots to the side and collapsed back into the large pillows, releasing a breath she was certain she’d been holding in all evening. Already, she felt much more refreshed—enough to manage her first genuine smile as she blinked at the horizon sprawled before her, glowing against the night as if someone had arranged a line of embers across the bottom of the sky.

“If you think our dawn is beautiful, you should stay long enough to see our dusk.”

With a scream, she clambered to her feet and whirled to find a male holding the curtain aloft, his mask a streak of gold in the dim light.

He laughed. A deep, rumbling sound that she would have mistaken for thunder had she not watched it shake his chest. “Pardon the intrusion, Lady, I’m—”

“I know who you are,” she breathed, taking in his bright eyes, the shape of his jaw, the warmth that radiated from him as if she was standing before a roaring bonfire. Even in the residual night, with the moon disappeared and the sun still tucked away, their small alcove seemed to light with his presence.

She would know who he was, even if she did not recognize his face.

He offered her a broad smile. “And how might I acquire the same honor?”

“The same as you would acquire anything,” she said. “By offering something of equal value in exchange.”

One of the male’s dark eyebrows lifted over his mask, amused by her game. In truth he was a Prince, and he could acquire such information simply by demanding it.

“Then you’ve set me an impossible task,” he said. “There is nothing I could offer you that’s of equal value.”

Oh, he was a flirt. And she couldn’t deny it thrilled her.

“No?” she took a step toward him, the sun-warmed stone tingling against her bare feet. “I’ve heard that you have troves of gold.”

“I could empty my coffers and it still wouldn’t be sufficient,” he said grimly.

She laughed. “And your thousand libraries? Surely they contain knowledge of greater importance.”

“I assure you, Lady, the ancient scholars would be left unrewarded from such a pursuit.”

This time, he was the one to take a step, drawing her attention to the golden sandals lacing up his muscular calves. He paused once he was in front of her, and gently perched his thumb beneath her chin to draw her eyes back to his.

Her words became breathless. “Then are you saying, milord, that you have nothing to offer me?”

“Not nothing, Lady. Though I hope you will take pity on me, for my offer is humble. I would like to volunteer my company for the evening.”

She pretended to consider this. “Can you dance?”

“Yes,” he said. “For as long as you wish.”

He offered his hand to her, and she stared at it for a long moment before placing her palm atop his. The touch of his skin against her own sent a zap of heat through her body, and she gasped as it triggered a sharp tug in her chest.

His amber eyes softened, all too knowing.

“I accept your offer,” she said. “On the condition that we stay out here.”

She imagined her father wouldn’t be pleased to see her dancing with the Day Court Prince when she was supposed to be making nice with the sons of Autumn.

“Wherever you wish,” he said with an agreeable nod. “Although, it will be hard to hear the music from out here.”

“You let me worry about that,” she said, raising her palm to mimic the starting position of an Autumnal Waltz. His eyes never once waivered from her face as he mirrored her stance.

And then she began humming.

-

A soft, haunting melody tangled with the steady rhythm of footsteps, and beneath, a distant, beaconing heartbeat. It started in time with the melody, but as it grew louder it fell out of tempo, beginning to drown out the song. Elain resisted its call at first, wanting to linger in the rippling memory—a woman, humming, her voice warm and sweet, like sun-soaked apples and spiced wine.

Elain thought she recognized the melody, but when she tried to grasp it, curling her fist around the soft notes, the thread of memory tightened, then yanked, vaulting her towards the thundering heartbeat.

A headache. That’s what the pounding was—her own blood, violently pumping through her skull. Though as Elain peeled her eyes open to the dim bedroom, she half expected to find someone standing above her, rapping their fist against her forehead.

Every curtain was drawn, sealing out any allusion to the time of day. She groaned softly, raising her palm to her temple in the hopes she could massage the throbbing pain away. It was difficult to convince herself to wander out of the safety of her dark bedroom, but the need for water won over.

She was still wearing the blue gown she’d arrived in, now creased in odd places from sleep, and she hadn’t the slightest idea where the clothes she packed for the journey had ended up.

“Lucien?” she called, parting the curtains to the central room of their shared suite.

The Eagle fountain stood proudly in the center, liquid still flowing from its beak. Nausea churned in her stomach as she recalled how its water had burst the room into light and color, sweeping around and around her. And yet, even as her head thudded and her nose crinkled in repulsion, the back of her mouth began salivating, recalling its sweet taste.

Elain tore her eyes away from the statue, pushing the chant of its soft trickle to the back of her mind before it could tempt her into another sip. Her eyes wandered to the two other curtains, once which led to Lucien’s bedroom, presumably, and the other… to a bright seam of light.

So it was day time.

Elain carefully picked her way through the maze of multicolored pillows littering the floor, her steps impaired by her wavering balance and the sharp lance of pain that shocked through her skull each time she bobbed her head.

When she reached the wine colored drape, she paused, certain that the light on the other side would be excruciating. But her mouth was so dry, and she thought, surely, if she could find someone, they would know the remedy for this hangover?

With a deep breath, Elain pushed open the curtains, cringing back from the full intensity of the morning sun. It was angled in the perfect position to pour directly across her face.

She held up her hand to block its path, squinting to take in the details of the surrounding private garden. As she searched, her eyes landed on a tapered waist rising from a large pool of steaming water. Lucien’s back was turned, oblivious to her arrival as he reached up to run his fingers through his wet hair and inadvertently flexed every corded muscle in his arms and back.

Elain shrieked, causing Lucien to whirl around, and she shrieked again—staggering backwards before she risked seeing the front of him nude. In her haste, she tripped over the drapes, and though they slowed her descent, she still fell hard enough against her elbows for her teeth to clack together. It did nothing to help her worsening headache.

“You’re awake,” Lucien said, rushing to the edge of the pool, like he intended to help her before the nature of their predicament dawned on him. She watched him cover himself in her periphery. “I—sorry. I thought you’d be sleeping for a while yet.”

“Why aren’t there any locks in this place?” she complained as she sat up to rub her sore elbow. She was deliberately looking anywhere but his direction.

“I already told you,” he said, and she could hear his smugness seeping in, “baths are communal in the Day Court. I thought I was being courteous by taking mine while you were asleep.”

Elain squeezed her eyes shut. It was her attempt to both block out the stabbing pain behind her eyes and the image of his naked backside.

“I need water,” she said, desperate to change the subject. “And clothes. And something to get rid of this godforsaken headache.”

“That’s what you get when you drink a full mug of ambrosia,” he said, with hardly any sympathy.

“You didn’t warn me about this part.”

“I seem to recall not having a chance to.”

Elain shook her head in exasperation, then immediately regretted it when the pain ratched skywards in intensity, causing her to clench her teeth and drop her head into her hands. If she could squeeze hard enough to end her misery right then, she would have.

His voice softened. “Go back inside—I’ll be there in a second.”

Feeling rather pathetic, Elain retreated back into the safety of the dimly lit lounge, depositing herself atop a pile of pillows as she tried not to listen too closely to the sounds of water sluicing off Lucien’s body.

Moments later, the curtains parted to reveal Lucien, his skin and hair still damp from the pool. He’d tugged on a pair of loose-flowing trousers but was still bare from the waist up. She could feel the heat from the water curling off him as he dropped to the ground in front of her, perching on the balls of his feet.

He surveyed her sorry state and sighed. With a wave of his hand, his traveling pack appeared beside them, and he began rifling through its contents until he procured a small tin. He popped the lid open with his thumb, revealing a handful of powdered orbs, each roughly the same size and shape of a marble.

“Here,” he said, plucking one of them from the tin and holding it up to her lips. “Place it under your tongue and suck on it—don’t swallow,” he added sternly.

Elain recoiled. “What happens if I swallow it?”

“Must you question everything?”

She only blinked at him, refusing to part her lips until he told her.

“So stubborn,” he grumbled, though she swore there was an underlying warmth to it. “If you swallow it, it won’t work. Do you trust me?”

Elain gave him a hard stare. His lips twitched.

“If you don’t trust me, you’re going to have a very hard time here, Elain. You know I’d never put you in harm's way.”

She did know that, even if she didn’t want to admit it. The same way that she couldn’t bear the thought of harming him.

Begrudgingly, Elain parted her lips and tilted her head back. Lucien’s throat bobbed, but his touch was nothing but clinical as he leaned forward and dropped the small orb onto her tongue.

She immediately scrunched her face together, and Lucien slapped a broad hand over her mouth to stop her from spitting it out. It tasted vile—like licking a piece of rusted metal.

“I know,” he said, his voice coaxing. “It’s horrible, but it will make the headache go away. It’s getting better already, isn’t it?”

Elain’s eyes were beginning to water. She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head, but he was right. Her thoughts were no longer suspended between bright, pulsing bursts of pain.

The throbbing was easing back in slow tugs, moored like a ship being hauled from a sandbank. But saliva collected in her mouth like a flooding tide, wetting the powder around the pill, and the tugging became easier. Less of a tug and more a glide. It was receding faster now.

Lucien read her posture well enough to see she’d relaxed. He dropped her palm and offered a grim smile. “Better?”

Elain nodded, shoulders slumping in relief.

“Good,” Lucien said, rising to his feet. “Because the next part is pretty gross.” She watched him warily as he held a cupped palm in front of her lips. “Spit it out.”

Elain shot him a look that said, What?

“Quickly,” he urged.

Into his hand? Were there no options? Lucien’s fingers flexed, urging her to hurry, and Elain sensed that she would regret delaying over human primness.

Elain spat the orb into Lucien’s waiting hand, watching in horror as its surface split open to reveal several long, spindly legs breaking free of its constraint. She screamed as Lucien hurled the creature to the floor and stamped it beneath his foot.

“It was an egg!?” Elain pressed her hand to her mouth in horror, holding back a gag. Her voice rose in pitch as betrayal coursed through her, hot and boiling. “You made me suck on an insect’s egg?”

Lucien winced, lifting his foot to reveal the mangled, flattened corpse. His lips curled in disgust as he inspected the guts sticking to the bottom of his bare foot. He still hadn’t responded to her outrage.

Elain launched to her feet, giving the insect a wide berth. “I can’t believe you!”

“Would you have taken it?” He asked. “If you knew what it was?”

“No!” She cried. “And that’s not a good enough reason to not have told me!”

“Elain—”

“Don’t talk to me,” she snapped, storming toward the drapes that led to her designated bedroom. “Just—just leave me alone, Lucien.”

She threw open the red cloth, wishing that there were doors in this gods forsaken palace so that she could slam it in his face. And though there was nothing to keep him from pushing the curtains aside, he halted on the other side of the limp barrier.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “Do you… do you still want me to bring you some food? I can leave it out here.”

Elain said nothing in answer. She didn’t know what to do with herself, alone in this room. In this Court. She hugged her arms around her body and sat on the bed, listening to the steady heartbeat on the other side of the curtain as Lucien waited for an answer.

Waited, and then realized he wasn’t going to get one.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’ll ask a servant to bring you some. Just in case.”

Elain listened to his footsteps retreat, holding it together just until she was certain he’d left their suite entirely. And only then did she allow herself to grab one of the pillows from the bed and fling it toward the wall, pretending it was his stupid, handsome face.

[lupusrcx]

&&. cauldron above, ( cassian blackthorn ) was just spotted in the fae lands — word has it ( he ) is affiliated with ( the winter court  / the wild hunt ). ( he ) is a ( 225 / appears 35 ) year old ( wild hunt fae ). it’s been said that ( he ) resembles ( aldis hodge ). ( he ) has been said to be ( protective & loyal ) but also quite ( possessive & distrustful ). ( he ) is currently serving as ( tatiana valentina’s personal bodyguard / an undercover spy for the wild hunt ).

Name: Cassian Blackthorn

Age: 35 / 225

DOB: August 14th

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Positive personality traits: intelligent, brave, loyal, protective, powerful, adaptable

Negative personality traits: sarcastic, challenging, steely, arrogant, possessive

Biography: 

At the heart of it all, Cassian has always been a family man. As the eldest Blackthorn sibling, he took upon the solemn duty of protecting both his younger brother and baby sister the moment they entered the world, there was never any question of his love for either them or his parents. As a whole, the Blackthorns represented a strong, stable family unit, bound together by their Wild Hunt blood and the infallible loyalty that they shared. Carina, the youngest and only daughter of the Blackthorn clan, was very much so the princess of the bunch, between Cassian and Carter she was loved and doted upon endlessly. Even as Cassian went further with his training as a skilled huntsman and warrior, he always made time for Carina, and could often be found sparring with his brother as well---their own form of bonding. It was, of course, Carina’s tragic death---her murder---that brought their unbreakable family dynamic to a sudden halt.

Carina’s passing cast a dark shadow over Cassian’s heart. Where he’d once been the confident, powerful eldest son of the Wild Hunt, he was jaded by his sister’s death, and with his grief came a deep surge of great and terrible anger. Everything changed for him then. The woman he’d been meant to marry---his childhood sweetheart---did her best to stay by his side and support him, but it was Cassian who drove her away. She deserved better, more than the bitter, angry shell of a man he’d become, and so immense was his period of mourning that he hardly registered it when he awoke to find her things packed and the side of the bed she’d shared with him empty and bereft. 

He grew older. Stronger. Perhaps more vicious too, the Blackthorn family had always been known for their fair judgement and compassionate nature but it had become so easy for Cassian to lean into his wolf side in an effort to keep his human emotions at bay that sometimes, he felt more like a beast than a man. He rose up in the ranks of the Wild Hunt, training non-stop and with an almost crazed amount of fervor, and when Lucien, the Wolf King, approached both him and Carter with an unheard of proposition ... well. 

There was no refusing it. This was the singular opportunity that Cassian had to avenge the murder of his sister, spying on the Winter Court would bring him one step closer to finally making good on his promise to Carina. He worried of course, about Carter being placed in a similar situation, potentially one of danger, and made a secondary promise then and there. To protect his younger brother no matter the cost.

Except ... nothing happened the way that he had expected to, accepting a bodyguard position for the toddler princess of the Winter Court had seemed like child’s play, but while Cassian had been preparing himself for a spoiled brat of an heiress whom he’d have to resist smothering on a regular basis, he was instead greeted by a porcelain angel, with beautiful, bouncing blonde curls of glimmering gold. He took one look at Tatiana Valentina’s cherubic little face, her big blue eyes that shone brighter than any snowflake, and he felt something age-old click into place.

Now, he’s been by Tatiana’s side for the last sixty years, and her powers are just as unstable as they were the first time she ever figured out how to wield them. It’s something that worries Cassian and Viktor both, and while he still makes his regular reports to Lucien on behalf of his mission, there’s no denying the impossibly strong bond that he’s forged with the young tsarina. Guilt, hot and heavy, eats away at him more and more with each day that goes by, who is he betraying now? Carina, by failing to avenge her death? Or would he be doing her a disservice instead by abandoning Tatiana, who shares so many similarities with his dearly departed sister?

Cassian, at the end of the day, is a man of the Hunt. Even when he isn’t shifted into his huge, dark brown wolf form, he still carries himself like a predator, a huntsman who knows what he wants and how to get it. While he might appear laid back and calm on the surface, there’s a steady fire brewing within, and it comes out whenever those he cares about are threatened with harm or danger. Just like a wolf, he imprints on the people he loves, and with that comes a brutally-strong pack mindset that he firmly believes in.

Cassian disagrees furiously with the decision to marry Tatiana off to the Spring Court, as much as he respects and admires---and cares for---Viktor, he can’t help but feel as if the High Lord has traded his baby sister away as if she’s little more than a rare jewel. 

He hasn’t seen his childhood sweetheart since the night she left, but he still thinks of her almost every single day, and he hopes that she’s happy. Since then, he hasn’t taken another mate---instead he’s focused on his mission as an undercover spy in the Winter Court, as well as his sworn duty to both protect Tatiana and watch over Carter. He’s a man, though, and a man with needs, and has spent more than his fair amount of time in The Orchard. The song sang between Nymphs and the Wild Hunt is as old as time after all, and who can blame him for indulging in the animalistic wants of his pack?

[theincompetentgenius]

Can I request for a matchup?Can i have a matchup for ikesen ? I’m pretty open about saying stuff that i feel and mostly end up blushing or embrrassing myself and cant lie for my life in any way. I can be sensitive, emotional and empthatic,When i care about someone i can and will go to great lengths for them. I may get a little motherly and caring as well bc i like cooking and doing self care things like massages, hair spa and stuff, more to the other person than myself. My hobbies include listening to music, drawing and binge watching my fave shows. I like being affectionate as well but most of the time i’m too shy. Annnd thats it i guess!

You also sent in a previous matchup for MLQC, so I’m just going to put the two matchups together for the sake of clarity. Also, I used the info from your MLQC matchup as well (hope you don’t mind). Anywho, let’s get on with the matchup and I hope you enjoy it!

Ikemen Sengoku

I’d pair you with………. Mistuhide Akechi!

Not going to lie, it was really hard to think of someone else for you besides Mitsuhide. I mean, you two would work really well that it was almost impossible to see you with someone else. However, I settled for Mitsunari as runner’s up because it would be the softest relationship in the world! He’d literally shower you with all the love you deserve and you’d help him take care of himself. I’m starting to rethink my decision as I write this………….

However, Mitushide makes the better option because the two of you complement each other. In my matchups, I tend to pair people who balance each other and maintain a stable relationship, which is exactly what would happen here! Mitsuhide needs someone with warmth to bring some light into his dark life, which you can do easily.

Since this man does not take care of himself AT ALL, you’ll be dragging and nagging him to start prioritizing his well-being. You’ll do this by giving him messages and recreating a modern spa! As he goes through the mini spa, his physical and mental tensions begin to disappear. You even style his hair, even though he never thought about changing it up a bit. However, you don’t tell him when you put his hair in space buns….

Our residential snake can see through your lies immediately. Whenever you’re not feeling too great and mask it by saying “I’m fine”, Mitsuhide is ready to plan a day dedicated just towards your happiness. He’ll do anything you want for the day and might hunt the person who ruined it.

Mitsuhide has so much fun teasing you. Since you get embarrassed easily, it takes the warlord half a second to figure out methods to turn your face red. Shameless flirting, seductive glances, over-the-top holding, you name it: he’s not afraid of pulling all the cards. He gets a chuckle out of the whole shebang and finds you just too adorable.

If you manage to use your phone, you’ll probably be using it in the rare moments of silence to listen to music and focus on your drawing. However, you’re too focused to see the slithering Mitsuhide creep up behind you. At first, he’ll think about scaring you, but he’ll change his mind when he sees your concentration towards your drawing. Instead, the warlord will watch your technique in admiration and interrupt you after you’ve finished everything.

Another Possibility: Mitsunari Ishida

MLQC

I’d pair you with……….. Gavin!

I’m not going to go into too much detail as to why I chose Lucien as runner-up because the relationship would be similar to your relationship with Mitsuhide. I mean, both are really sneaky and flirty-- so you get the idea, right? In fact, you might be thinking to yourself, “Why not go with Lucien on this one?” Well, that’s because there are certain things about Gavin that would knock Lucien out of the park for you.

Gavin absolutely loves your cheery and bright attitude. Whenever he’s feeling a bit low or tired, he’ll remember your energetic smile to help him get through the day. He’s not fully sure why, but somehow your happiness rubs off on him. This feeling makes him want to spend more and more of his time around you.

There’s no problem in being childish and expressive around Gavin! If anything, it honestly helps him out in understanding your needs. Gavin can be quite dense and keeps secrets (primarily for your safety), so your expressive nature strengthens the communication between you two. If anything, you remind him of an adorable puppy.

Similar to Mitsuhide, “self-care” does not exist in Gavin’s dictionary. In fact, it can be infuriating to watch Gavin throw himself for you, but not even give a fraction of that care towards himself. So, you start making lunches for our poor boy. As you go to work, you drop off a meal made with lots of love to the police station. Inside the bag, there’s a sandwich with a salad and fruit (if you’ve got more time, you make something more ornate), topped with a cute little note reminding Gavin about how much you love him. He sticks every single note on his wall with a soft smile on his face

Luckily, TV exists in this time period, so you and Gavin can binge-watch all the television shows that you want. Gavin seems to have little preference for what to watch, so it's entirely up to you to pick the show. As you make your decision, Gavin brings all the snacks from the fridge and organizes them for your convenience. The two of you snack and cuddle together, binging through your favorite shows. Sometimes, you even fall asleep on his shoulder.

When that happens, Gavin will scoop you up and carry you to your bed. He’ll place a blanket on top of you and plant a kiss on your forehead. As he walks out, Gavin will switch off the lights and mutter a soft “Goodnight” as he heads out for his next mission.

Another Possibility: Lucien

[r3almellow]

MLQC Boys With Angry F!S/o Who Denies Them Touch/Sex

Thanks @dafnew for the request!!! I know it took me a while, but I hope you enjoy it! I apologize if there are any typos!

Slightly NSFW!

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Kiro

All he did was accidentally eat the meal you were looking forward to all day long. Was that really the reason you were currently upset with him.

This wasn’t the first time Kiro has done this and you knew it wouldn’t be the last, so you decided to teach the little glutton a lesson.

Since he loved touching your food, how would he feel not being able to touch his precious Miss Chips?

“No sex.”

Huh?! You’re not serious are you?

To test to see if this was really a “threat,” he’ll try to give you a quick kiss on the lips, but you skillfully turn your head causing his lips to land on your cheek.

DID YOU JUST DODGE ONE OF HIS KISSES?!!

That man is heartbroken, with a capital BROKEN.

Will apologize nonstop and mope when you don’t accept it.

Will give the biggest puppy dog eyes in history. It almost breaks you...ALMOST.

You turn your nose up at his antics and casually go about your business.

He will whine like there’s no tomorrow.

If the two of you are sleeping in the same bed, you will find yourself sleeping on the opposite side of the bed with your back facing him.

Kiro will have none of that and will make his way over to your side and wrap his arms around you.

If you’re really tired you’ll let it slide because you’re a sucker for cuddles; until you feel something hard poking your ass. 

Cheeky man...

You’ll be tempted to press your ass against him, but REMEMBER the mission.

Just before he can even sneak a hand up your shirt or press a few kisses against your neck, Kiro will be hit with a barrage of pillows and forced back to his side of the bed.

You’ll start placing pillows in between the two of you.

Savin figures out whats happening the minute you’re in Kiro’s eyesight and the blonde isn’t hovering around you like a lovesick puppy.

Savin feels for him, but will most likely poke fun.

Kiro will try to eat himself into a coma to battle his cravings for you, but his agent will be on his ass.

This will go on for about two days.

When you finally let up, be prepared for him to jump your bones.

LIKE HE’S ABOUT TO POUNCE ON YOU THE MINUTE YOU GIVE THE OKAY.

It’ll be even worse if he’s been out of the country and didn’t have sex with you prior to leaving.

He doesn’t even care where it happens at this point.

Apartment? Dressing room? Storage closet? IT DOESN’T MATTER.

Needs to feel your body against his.

Just know that, if left up to Kiro you’re not going to be able to leave your bed for a while.

Gavin

It was extremely rare for you to get angry at Gavin. Like its almost impossible for you to be upset with him since that man will bend over backwards to make you happy.

There is, however, one thing that sets you off.

Whenever he gets hurt on the job and doesn’t tell you about it. 

You know Gavin doesn’t like to worry you, but you deserve to know when the love of your life almost comes face to face with death.

So this time around, he omits telling you that he was hospitalized due to a stab wound.

You are LIVID. 

First off, why wouldn’t he tell you he was in the hospital?!

Second, why did you have to hear the news from Eli?!

Gavin tries to ease your frustration with a hug, but you back away instantly.

“No, amount of hugs is going to fix this. In fact, no touching until you’re 100% healed!”

Gavin won’t argue, but he will be sulking! He’ll just have to accept his fate if he wants to be back in your good graces again.

Then it dawned on him...does that mean..? 

He had to ask. He had to know!

“Yup! No sex, Mister.”

Looks like that right hand about to work overtime. 

Gavin has gone through training to withstand torturous circumstances, so the idea of you not having sex with him didn’t sound so bad.

He waited years just have you in his arms and it wasn’t like all the two of you did was have sex. 

However, Gavin didn’t factor in one thing.

His need to worship you.

Gavin loves worshiping you in so many ways from using his words to his body.

His favorite thing to do was to make you feel loved in every way possible. 

So when you graciously refuse to sleep in the same bad as him or deny him any ounce of affection, he’s so hurt. 

Will try to keep his distance, if he feels like he’s really hurt you. 

If you two live together, he’ll make sure to stay out of your way and even sleep on the couch. 

Gavin will  still keep a watchful eye on you.

He notices all! 

Like when you’re wearing his t-shirt without a bra and your nipples involuntarily protrude through the shirt for him to see. 

Or when you walk out of the shower with only a towel around your torso. One little tug and you’d be baring all for him to see.  

Like I said before, that right hand about to work double shifts if he’s going to make it through a long work week. Gavin is only human and has needs! 

His hands got nothing on your mouth or the warmth of your pus- NOPE! NOT DOING THIS. 

This doesn’t just impact your relationship with Gavin, but his relationship with others. 

And by others, its mostly Minor.

“Boss, can I be totally unprofessional for two seconds?”

“Minor you haven’t been professional a day in your life, but sure...” 

“Gavin, hasn’t been himself lately. Like, he’s been sulking and doesn’t even want to shoot hoops anymore. He just sits on a bench and watches birds! And he hasn’t threatened to kick my ass in days! He’s like a sad ass puppy!” 

“I don’t control Gavin, Minor. What do you expect me to do?” 

“I expect you to....SUCK YO MAN’S DI-” Bless Willow and Kiki for pulling the idiot away. 

You do notice he’s more sullen these past few days and has barely spoken to you.

You’ll feel so guilty, but you know you had every right to put him through this!

Not being able to see your precious Bird Cop look like someone killed his dog for much longer, you cave in. 

When Gavin hears the good news his eyes light up and without hesitation he pulls you in for a bone crushing hug.

“I’m sorry for making you worry...” He’ll say.

The minute you nuzzle his cheek and accept his apology, its like a weight has lifted off of him. 

You’ll stay wrapped in his embrace for a while, but will toss out an invitation.

“If you’re all healed up we could....” You don’t even have to finish your sentence.

SAY

NO

MORE

Your boy is touch starved and desperate to make it up to you! 

Get ready for the most mind-blowing yet passionate sex you’ll ever have to date!

Victor

Victor is a prideful man, who refuses to let other’s see him sweat. 

So, when he makes a rude remark in regards to your cooking skills after you generously made him dinner, you decide to put his resolve to the test.

“Well you can suck your own dick since I clearly can’t do anything right!” And you meant it. No sex of any kind!

For how long? Well…until he apologizes.

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

It takes a lot for Victor to admit he’s wrong, so Victor is more than willing to go toe to toe with you. 

What Victor doesn’t realize is that this is going to be the hardest thing he’s ever had to commit to.

If you live together, you would sleep in the guest room just to punish him. However, you also didn’t want to be tempted. Resisting him was a challenge, but you refuse to let him know that.

If you don’t live together, your frequent sleepovers will cease until he apologizes. No more of his home cooked meals… A sacrifice you were willing to make just to stick it to him.

Either way, Victor will be sleeping alone for the next few nights! 

Victor is pretty good with keeping his composure, but by the third day of this ridiculous sex ban everything around him became an irritation.

From Goldman’s voice to the sound of a pen tapping obnoxiously on a desk. It was all so insufferable!

“If you want to keep your job, I suggest you stop that tapping.” 

“Uh, sir, you’re the one that’s tapping.” Oh. 

After a week, you realize that this man was not going to cave on his own. 

He needed a little....incentive. 

When the eighth day rolls in you show up for your one-on-one meeting with the CEO to go over some future plans. 

Your plan was to indirectly seduce him, you know....to nudge him a bit.

Show just enough cleavage.

Wear a short skirt that may or may not reveal the lack of underwear. 

He’ll be eating out of the palm of your hands. Or in this case he’ll be eating out that pussy. 

That was the plan, however....

HE DIDN’T EVEN FLINCH AT THE SIGHT OF YOU.

Little do you know, that man is a raging ball of horniness. 

It took everything he had to keep his cool once he saw you. 

BUT IT WAS DIFFICULT!

He noticed everything.

To the smallest DETAIL.

The outfit you wore perfectly hugged your body in ways that had him outlining your curves with his eyes. 

Your lips were painted in a soft pink gloss that made your lips shine and seem fuller.

The air is filled with the scent of the perfume he had bought you for your birthday last year and…was that a faint hickey on the base of your neck?!

Victor could feel his cock painfully press against his tailored pants.

He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. 

The meeting went on without any problems. 

MUCH TO YOUR DISMAY!

You flirted a bit, but he wasn’t taking the bait!

Have you met your match?!

Once the meeting concluded you turned to leave. 

You’re never aware of this, but he LOVES watching you leave his office so he could get a look at your ass.

Feels like eternity since he’s had the chance to squeeze it with his bare hands. 

Wait...

That skirt.

He knew that skirt all too well. He was the one who bought it after all. 

It was just tight enough to show the outline of your panties. The main reason he bought it for you. 

But.....there was no outline this...time...

OH HELL....

The next thing you know you’ll be pinned to the door with the a frowning man towering over you. 

“I can’t believe I let a dummy get the best of me…”

 “That doesn’t sound like an apology...” 

Don’t worry, he’ll apologize to you and then he’ll fuck you on every hard surface he can find in his office. 

Lucien

It takes a lot for you to be upset with Lucien.

But if you do ever get upset it’ll be because he’s never forthcoming with information and likes strategically misleading you. 

When you become fed up with that you refuse to be in his presence until further notice or until you have to work together again.

This won’t last long. Like a few hours....

Lucien is just too good at turning things in his favor.

Lucien is pretty good at keeping his horny levels in check, but....

He doesn’t sleep well without you by his side. 

Sometimes the sex is what helps him sleep. 

So you ignoring him will simply not do. 

Lucien will find some loophole in your plans. 

Like he’ll pitch interesting ideas to you that will leave you with no choice but to work with him. 

One minute you’re going over notes for an upcoming project and the next...

You’re gripping the sheets beneath you, clothes tossed to the ground,  back arched, and heavy pants passing through your lips. 

Where’s Lucien? 

Between your legs of course!

How did this happen?!

This man is definitely made of magic or something!

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Done!!! I had to rewrite this one like twice because I had too many scenarios going through my head! I hope you all enjoyed it!

Be sure to check out my other MLQC stuff here!

[mlqcconfessions]

*chanting* the boys as dads. the boys as dads. tHE BOYS AS DADS. THE BOYS AS DADS! THE BOYS AS DADS!! (plus points if the kid looks JUST like MC?)

YESS. YESSS.

YESSSSSSSS

MLQC Headcanon - Our little treasure

Victor

He’s the father of a lovely daughter, who looks just like you (to his amusement)

He loves waking up in the morning seeing MC 1.0 and MC 2.0 in bed together

Calls her his little angel (Does that make him Father angel?)

He buys the best presents on her birthday (which unofficially became a celebrated holiday at LFG)

You and your daughter sometimes visit him at the office (much to his delight)

Finishes an entire day’s worth of documents so he can dedicate his time to playing with her

Has her toy kitchen set placed in the corner of his office (so she can bake him a cake while he works which he pretends to eat)

HAS A FRAMED PICTURE OF YOU AND HIS DAUGHTER ON HIS DESK (taken from when you were going apple picking last fall)

He hangs the “I love you” card she made for him on her 3rd birthday on his wall (shows it off to Goldman who doesn’t get paid enough to listen to his boss’ gushes)

Loves the outfits you dress her in (loves it even more when you two are matching)

Hosts the most extravagant parties to celebrate the most random events (the biggest one to date was when she said “dadda” for the first time)

Makes her pudding, but not too often

He wants to prevent her from going to the dentist (just in case she gets scared)

Victor, she’s going to have to go see a dentist someday

He tries hard to not let his daughter become spoiled

He makes her work for rewards

But is actually weak against her tears (you’re the one who has to set your foot down, most of the time)

He looks forward to going home after work (sometimes makes Goldman lock the doors to LFG so he can go home faster)

He loves being greeting by the two of you, while she runs up to hug him

He feels so content in these moments that nothing seems impossible

So he’s ready for another one

Kiro

TWIN. SONS.

SO RAMBUNCTIOUS (he’s actually the loudest one)

He notices their love for music early on

He sings along with them while bathing them

Spends the little break times he has to memorize the opening of their favorite show (he takes on one of the characters to dance with his sons)

He brings his sons to the recording studio, letting them go wild inside

He secretly records them singing in the booth (sets it as his ringtone)

Definitely the type to tell them stories about the monster in the closet, with dramatic sound effects (that’s not what your angelic voice is for, Kiro)

He’s so intrigued at how they look like you (but with blond hair)

Doesn’t like getting mad often, but will do it if he has to (actually pretty scary when he’s scolding them)

He asks Savin all sorts of questions (that he honestly doesn’t want to know the context of)

Savin, how do you remove a ring from a baby’s stomach? 

You found out later from Savin (I left the room for 5 minutes, Kiro. And you let the baby swallow your ring?)

Frequent games of “Who can hug mommy the tightest?” (he just picks you up bridal style, letting your legs dangle over the twins’ heads)

Insists he tags along on play dates with the neighborhood kids

He gets along so well with the parents?

Gives standing ovations at their school plays (YES! Do you see those trees? They’re MY trees!)

He makes things like chores and brushing teeth into a game (so they won’t be as hostile towards them)

150% wears matching pajamas with the twins (honestly, it’s like you’re raising 3 kids)

Has mini concerts at home (it’s good that you live in a house, and not an apartment)

WRITES SONGS ABOUT HIS SONS

Performs them on tours ONLY when he knows you’ll bring them there

Has a bedtime routine with them (kiss mommy goodnight, kiss daddy goodnight daddy kisses mommy goodnight)

Always wakes up to see them in weird sleeping positions (takes a picture every time, later makes them into a full album became the present for their 18th birthday)

Lucien

A beautiful daughter, a beautiful wife

Nothing more he could ask for

He’s into making home videos (likes to watch them in between his lectures)

He just likes looking at her (because she reminds him so much of you)

Isn’t reluctant to introduce her to the other professors (but doesn’t like it when they get a little too close)

He can’t hide his triumphant smirk whenever she tells him to pick her up (sorry Dr., it seems my daughter is wary of strangers)

He likes noticing the small details about his child (and how she has the same habits as you)

Like how you stick out your tongue when concentrating

Or how one eye squints a little more than the other when smiling

He buys a tiny lab coat for her (after she said she wanted to be a white fairy princess like her dad)

RAISES. BUTTERFLIES. WITH. HER. (the whole caterpillar to cocoon shabang)

He calls her his Blue Morpho (you’re his Monarch)

Explains every animal during trips to the zoo (she loves calling the animals by their scientific names)

He’s so tall? He has to bend down in order to hold her hand (the reason why he just rolls the stroller instead / just picks her up)

He does little science experiments with her (safe ones, of course)

He takes her word for it when she exclaims how colorful everything is

You sometimes bring her to classes when he’s scheduled to lecture

The class can’t focus while a toddler keeps drawing stuff on the board

He plays picture card games with her

Ok, then what animal is this one?

Leopardus pardalis! (You actually can’t keep up with their conversations sometimes)

He has to hold her hand during her naps (she said it helps her fall asleep better, or something like that)

He’s not complaining

Gavin

He can’t believe this is actually happening

He’s going to be a FATHER

And with YOUR child! (the nurses had to stop him from barging into the room so often)

He insisted that he try the Empathy Belly (so he could exactly know what you were going through during pregnancy)

Didn’t think it would be THIS difficult to just live a daily life

SO PROTECTIVE over his daughter (literally follows closely behind her)

He was honestly worried about being a dad (especially after growing up with that asshole kind of parent)

You put full trust in him because Gavin is DIFFERENT from his father (and now he can believe that)

He loves just how much she looks like you (it’s like watching a mini-you run around the house)

Has workout sessions with her (push-up kisses, squats with her dangling on his shoulders, bench presses with her as weight)

Likes it when she tags along with him to the police station (he brags to the other officers every time)

But bringing her to STF? NO WAY IN HELL (although Eli does come over sometimes)

He changed his diet (from instant ramen) so she could be a healthy child

Has an entire closet full of bandages, ointments, and medicine for when she’s hurt or gets sick (if only he took care of his own injuries like that)

But he is a lot more careful when fighting on the scene

He doesn’t want her to cry over his wounds like LAST TIME (he was so surprised)

Uncle Minor acts as the unofficial godfather (he’s actually good at taking care of kids?)

Gavin teaches her how to ride a 2-wheeled bike (he’s so afraid of letting go, even if she insisted)

He likes taking her out on flights when she’s a little older (they always visit the Ferris wheel afterwards)

He makes another ginkgo bracelet just for her

He has pretend tea parties with her and you (Uncle Minor is the butler for some reason)

He keeps the drawing of you, Gavin, and her safely tucked inside his pocket during missions (it’s his good luck charm)

Doesn’t let her use Sparky, but does let her help him clean it

DEFINITELY THE TYPE TO WALK WITH HER ON HIS SHOULDERS (she’s holding on his neck, chin resting on the top of his head)

Worries about the future boyfriend she’s gonna bring home 

Gavin, she’s only 5

Well, yeah but for NOW

WHEW

That was a lot of fluff

Which was your favorite part? Mine would probably be Gavin working out with his daughter (because I’m Birdcop trash like that and actually imagined it)

[happywriter-happywriting]

The Shadow And His Light Chapter Five: Wings

Weeks went by like a lazy dream. Elain found her joy in working on the garden, cooking for Azriel, and well, Azriel. She began to long for the moment he would return home every day. It took about a week for him to leave her side once she stopped taking faebane. She had no visions that left her limp, mostly seeing small things; the way Azriel would grin at her when he returned for dinner, or a quick glimpse of the fawn she would later find in the lily patch.

Azriel was an answered prayer, he tirelessly guided her through the ins-and-outs of being a seer. He would rub his hand up and down her back and draw her gently out of her own mind whenever he noticed her eyes glaze over. He spoke softly to her on their daily walks through the nearby forest, and held her hand as often as possible- which she found endearing.

Every evening, over whatever meal Elain had made, they would sit on the same side of the table, knee to knee, and talk about their day. Azriel would describe the more innocent parts of his missions, and Elain usually had some new section of the garden to tell him about- or a vision.

After dinner the couple would either read or go straight to bed. Elain had started sleeping in Azriel’s room. Night-time was all a very innocent and cuddly affair with the two of them, usually a minimal amount of sweet kisses and they would fall asleep in each other's arms.

It was all quite a lovely little routine, Elain thought as she worked on setting the table, she knew Azriel would be home any moment. Home. She pulled fresh baked bread out of the oven and set it on a rack to cool. The chicken had just finished baking when she felt a pair of eyes on her. She had begun to notice his presence in a room, her surroundings all at once stilled and a kind of peace washed over her.

“Potatoes are almost done,” she spoke without turning around. A smile bloomed on her lips when she heard his soft footsteps coming toward her. A pair of broad hands encircled her waist and he nuzzled his nose into her neck. She set down the spoon she had been stirring with and leaned back into his firm chest.

“Hello, Shadowsinger,” She whispered.

In a quick movement he had her facing him, “Hello, my love.” He kissed her sweetly on the cheek. His grin was just the one she had envisioned earlier, and she could not help but smile brightly back at him.

After a moment, she pushed him back at arms length, “Go get changed, it’s almost ready,” with a kiss to her other cheek, he turned reluctantly and disappeared from the kitchen, giving Elain a moment to catch her breath.

She quickly plated the food and set it on the little wooden table and sat down in her usual seat.

He walked into the kitchen a moment later, a loose tunic and pants hung from his muscled body. He sat right next to her, “You would not believe the day I had.” He dug into the food right after Elain neatly took a bite of chicken.

“Tell me about it?” She said between bites. She loved hearing of his missions.

“I tracked a group of rebel Illyrians to their hideout, they had secretly been storing camp supplies.” He stopped to take another bite, shaking his head, “The women have been struggling to make ends meet because of the missing cache. I was able to transport all the goods back to the camps with Cassian’s help.” He did not mention how they had punished the rebels within an inch of their lives. It had been a long day; rewarding and tiring. In truth, he nearly lost the rebels several times because of his traitorous mind; he could not stop thinking about Elain, about going home to her.

Elain smiled again, “That’s wonderful.”

“What about you, how was your day?” Her fork clattered to the plate.

“It was- I had a- vision,” she scrambled to pick up her fork.

“I see, will you tell me about it?” he raised an eyebrow, mimicked her lighthearted tone from earlier.

Elain took another bite, brows furrowing, she usually never hesitated to share what she saw; she always hoped that her visions would help him in some way, and they had, on occasion. But this one was different, it was long, and it drained her more than her usual small glimpses of the future. “It, ah, it was about you actually,” she kept her tone light and soft, “Well not entirely, there was someone else in it as well.”

“Do you know who it was?” he took her hand, noticing her unease.

“I’m not exactly sure, it wasn’t… that is, I couldn’t see him very well, but I remember what triggered the vision- and I know it has something to do with him.”

Azriel’s whole attention was focused on Elain, he waited for her to continue.

“I was tending to the garden when I stumbled upon a fawn. It was beautiful, its eyes were a rich brown, but in the sunlight they gleamed golden; and when I saw it,” she shuttered, “everything went dark.”

Azriel leaned back in his chair, and thought a moment, “Lucien Vanserra has a golden eye, it is not uncommon for us to meet on occasion,” he relayed to her, thinking aloud.

Elain became frantic, turning fully towards him in her chair, “Oh, Azriel, he was here, in my garden, and you were… you were so, so angry at him. I’ve never seen you angry.”

Azriel smiled and rested a hand on her knee reassuringly, “And you never will, my love. Is this what’s been bothering you?” He had noticed the second he winnowed into the kitchen how ridged her shoulders were, even now she was so tense beneath his hand.

She nodded bashfully, “It’s just, I couldn’t bare it if you were ever that angry with me,”

Azriel smiled and cupped her warm cheek in his palm, “Well then lets promise to never be angry at each other, because I can promise you that I couldn’t bare it if you were ever angry with me.”

Elain nodded eagerly, “Oh, yes, I promise,” and Azriel laughed at her kind-hearted sincerity.

“Then it’s a deal.” he sealed it with a sweet kiss.

*********************************

After their meal was cleaned and Elain had bathed for the night, she sat peacefully under the covers of Azriel’s plush bed, their plush bed. He was at the desk at the opposite corner of the room filling out a report, the soft scratchings of his pen soothed Elain a great deal. From her perch she had an excellent view of his back, of his wings. They mezmorized her, so sleek and strong. She marveled at the delicate veins running across the midnight membranes. She now made him take-off from the front of the house, after the force of his wings lifting him into the sky had destroyed one of her rose bushes on the patio. She loved watching him take-off in the mornings, it gave her a second hand thrill to see him shoot up into the sky without a care in the world, his shadows trailing after him.

Before she could help herself, she was silently climbing out of bed and walking on cat-soft feet toward him.

Azriel was comfortable enough to let his guard down, he did not hear her coming closer, too preoccupied with finishing the report before him. It shook him to his very core when he felt cool fingers gently tracing a particularly sensitive vein on his right wing. He shuddered, eyes widening, “Stop,” he spoke through gritted teeth. Regretting it instantly.

Elain snatched her hand away quickly, heart sinking at his tone.

Nobody had ever touched his wings like that, so gently, so innocently. He had no idea how to process it, he only knew that he wanted her to do it again, and again, and again. But he knew she would be horrified if she understood what it did to him.

He cleared his throat, turning to her, “Wings are… very delicate,” he choked out. He hated that her face was heated in shame.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” Her voice broke his heart, he caught her arm as she turned away.

“No, you don’t understand,” He struggled to find a modest way to say it. “It’s a very intimate thing, touching someone else's wings, and I just want you to know so you can decide when… or if you are ever ready.” he let go of her arm and looked away. Shadows began to circle him.

“Oh,” her cheeks became impossibly pinker, “I see.”

So kind, and considerate, this male before her. She could fancy herself completely in love with him. She stared down at her feet for a moment, and bit her lip.

Yes, Completely, and entirely in love with him.

She locked eyes with him, stepping between his knees. She slowly reached up and brushed her fingers down that same vein.

Cauldron. She was going to kill him. This flower-tending fae would be the death of him. He leaned into her, forehead bowing onto her stomach, shadows dissipating, “Elain,” it was a strangled whisper. A prayer. The most powerful Shadowsinger in history melted at her simple touch.

She brought her other hand up, running her fingers through his soft hair.

“Elain, please, stop,” he was losing his last tether of control.

Slowly, Elain kissed the shell of his ear and whispered her quiet response, “No.”

Azriel snapped. In an instant he had her winnowed and pinned underneath him on the bed. She smiled sweetly up at him. Devastating. He buried his nose into her neck, trying desperately to control his breathing, but gods, that sunflower scent drove him insane. He planted a warm kiss just underneath her ear, she tasted like sunshine.

“Elain, ask me to stop,” He begged.

Was it still too fast? Was he misreading her advances?

“Don’t stop,” It was a plea as well.

And so he didn’t.

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Question: I am really tempted to continue this scene in next week's chapter. So are you guys okay with a smut w/o plot™ chapter or should I just move on?

A day early because I was late last week! <3

@rosehallshadowsinger @queenofillea1 @stalkingyourmuse @lord-douglas-the-third

@acotarsmutfluff @aelinxfeyre @Julesherondalex @poisonous00 @feyrethedarklady @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @musicallibrarian93 @flxwer-petals @nightcourtstarlight @aelinninielelain