#I wrote a lot of day dreams with Lucien so I thought it would be fun to share while I figured out how to write fiction

[cowboylament]

“You’ve got 100 years on me. Where’s your kindness.”

“I saved your life that's pretty kind.” He said standing.

I hummed, “yeah well Eris saved it first so you’ll have to do a bit better than that.”

I might have noted how it felt to make him laugh so many times, might have wondered at the strange world we’d seemed to find ourselves within, as if winnowing had sent us sideways into another universe, rather than through our own. Instead, I felt something else, something not heavy at all, but light and wispy, vanishing from the room. It was nameless, even looking back at the two moments did not reveal the nature of what had left. Instead just an instant before, my left hand seemed to hold something within it. Like a caress but laden with meaning. My fingers flinched around the phantom. Then Lucien’s hand too, the same one, in the same instant, flexed. 

or

Y/N makes a deal with death and Lucien is part of it. Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Bonus, Ao3

(Pre-Amarantha)

“The Princess of the Night Court.”

Darkness gave way from the back of my eyes. There had once been an empty room and warmth enveloped me, but where it had gone I was not sure. My head weighed too much, and in trying to lift it, to follow the tether of consciousness made in that voice, it only lolled from side to side. I couldn’t even tell how long I’d been blinking at my dangling feet until suddenly it occurred to me I was. 

I lifted my gaze, the weight diminished, and 13 pairs of eyes stared back at me. Whatever ether I was returning from vanished, an imperfect attention to the scene taking shape. There was nothing beneath my feet for me to move on, to back away, and as I tried to cover myself with my arms I found an ache in my shoulders, a burn at my wrist from the rope. 

They were watching, those 13 eyes. Glinted in the moonlight, narrowed with mixtures of amusement and disdain. And I knew some of them.

A bony finger pressed at the middle of my spine and began to drag itself down my back. I recoiled, my legs instinctively flinching forward trying to bow my back, to run away. The High Lord, Beron, revealed himself from behind me. 

“Aren’t you pretty.” He said and I managed to twist away enough for his hand to fall. His boots crunched under the crisp Autumn of night. Were it any other circumstance I’d have closed my eyes and taken pleasure in the feeling of my bones growing cold. I’d have stood there until I couldn’t stand it any longer, and slept until the morning came, with an Autumn made for summer.

“You denied our offer of marriage.” He continued, looking toward his sons, just two of them waiting on his word. Eris stood with the cruel beauty he’d always had, ruined only by whatever sneer he decided you deserved. Next to him, Lucien. His stony exterior didn’t break, not even now, but I knew it all enough. The pair were amused. 

It had been a mistake, coming here alone, and I’d insisted. How foolish you could seem through the lens of mortality. Beron set himself before me, his thin frame so used to towering over me he almost reluctantly looked upward. The action was only made real by the fact it was he who had all the power.

“But you will still be an Autumn Court bride.”

Someone told.

Around us, the males gathered in the clearing stirred. The hum of their intentions sliced through me, cold and unforgiving. 

“This is your last chance,” Beron said looking out toward them all, the rabid wild things waiting. Something truly unimaginable had been decided, and I could not stop its occurrence, not really. “You can marry Eris and we can be done with it.”

There was a creeping silence, one that only enhanced the roaring in my ears, as if they’d been filled with air. I wasn’t even sure if I could hear at all. The only thing that told me I could was the sound of my own voice, as cutting and familiar to Beron and his son’s as the cruel tone of his own. 

“I won’t make the same mistake as your wife.”

Though he had not been amused whatever spark of joy he got in the terrorizing of females winked out. Like a cloud had passed over the moon the small brightness of his face became shrouded in shadow. Words to kill by, words to harm. Only he couldn’t, if the stories were true. If the legends of primal instincts and the Cauldron weren’t folktale, in this place, before all these people, he couldn’t. 

He walked behind me and I steadied my breathing. The moment the High Lord left my field of vision my stomach dropped. If that made a sound then every male before me heard it, along with that frantic heart beneath my chest. Their smiles broadened, white teeth catching the moonly glow to show their feral delight at my helplessness.

Even Eris. Even Lucien. 

Gravel stirred directly behind me. I looked out at the crowd like knowing their faces would give me power over them. His voice, too close, spoke the damning words.

“By the Cauldron.” He said and a deep burn wrapped my side, climbing like fire on a dry field. The cold night flooded my throat in the shock of my gasp, before it was ravaged by a scream. He was burning me, Beron, he had to have burned me, but there was no smoke. The scent too, was not of flesh, but of blood. I looked down and saw the stain across my dress, the silver blade bathed in red like it had seen battle. 

He cut me. 

And the words, his voice rang out into whatever silence had been left behind by the ceremony. The ancient marital ceremony. His sentencing worse than death, spoken in that old tongue.

“We ask the blessing of the Lares.”

Then the taut rope went slack and I tumbled down to the ground, knees screaming, feet numb. I’d been tied a long time. His barbaric deed had been done, archaic, but the old magic of the land remembered and I felt its thrum. 

“Make use of your head start,” Beron said, his back to me. He was already walking away. The outcome to him didn’t matter. 

I didn’t look to make sure the magic had bound them to their place. The cover of the brush waited, and I needed distance, I needed objects between us. Without a stumble, on legs I could barely feel, I bolted. I was only under the cover of the darkness for mere minutes, when into the silent night, cries made for battle rose to the air. 13 males were competing to find me, and whoever got me first, would make me their wife. 

It did not take too long for it to occur to me that Beron had cut me precisely to prevent any great feat. I didn’t dare try to winnow, not when the scrapes of branches that whipped at my arms in the dark could barely manage to heal. Whatever siphon of magic I contained had been clamped.

I wound my way, sacrificing distance for staggered random cuts, in the hopes that the trees and bushes would offer coverage I myself could not provide with my shadows. The bright white cloth only served as a marker, the growing red stain almost helping me though not as much as it hindered. 

Another male yelled, closer, but not by much. They taunted me from a distance. The rules of this wretched ceremony had been decided centuries before, but at least they’d put in that, the head start. If I got far enough I could winnow, into a tree or lure them someplace and then winnow myself far away. 

There came a clearing, a large one and I bit back a cry of frustration. Losing the distance only to now need it. I’d be a lamb for slaughter, out in the open. Branches snapped and I couldn’t wait. I ran into the tall grass as fast as I could. The further out I got the sharper the clairty, the more dire circumstances revealed. There was a river cutting across it. My hearing, all my senses had to be dampened. I hadn’t heard it. Those men then must be closer than—

Out of the brush, six males descended upon me. Their large frames moved at impossible speeds. I kept going, didn’t hesitate to plunge into the water even as they got closer. No planning could save me, only action. I stumbled where the water got deeper and slowed me down. I still had some time, the head start would not be for nothing. Waist deep and on slippery stones I pushed forward and did not face my fate. I didn’t want to know who was closest. 

The water which might have been thin, delicate even, seemed now thick and sluggish. It slowed me, but with the magic those males had, I wasn’t sure it would hold them. Halfway through the bank bottomed out and I submerged myself. The surprise sent a gasp of icy water to my lungs. 

Resurfacing to the sound of splashing water, the closeness of Eris's laughter, I half choked and half cried as I righted myself trying to reclaim air. My side howled as I made through the current. Even in the icy water, the wound burned. Some trick at the Autumn hand—a blade that burns. 

I didn’t let myself wallow, for what tonight was lost. Eris who had, in all his wretched years, at least laughed with me on occasion. Who that first night in summer court had asked me to dance when no one else was brave enough to do so. Even for all his scheming, for the advantage he got in those moments and the intention of insulting us, he knew me.

I reached for a branch on the other side to pull myself out, my bicep straining with the weight of my body. All the afternoons Cassian offered up his training and all the afternoons I declined. How much and how little I knew if they were to catch me, and even with what I knew, how little of it I could successfully do. 

I could barely move but a surge of strength dragged itself through me and I lifted myself out using the branch as leverage. Just as success seemed imminent, however, a sharp tug pulled me back down. I yelled a signal to whoever else was out in those woods precisely where I was, had I not fallen under again. 

Move. Move. move. The words were sent everywhere in my body but for a minute I couldn’t. The hand on me lost its grip just as my limbs seemed to register their abilities. I had no more time. Now, even these single moments could decide my fate. My fingers brushing the bottom of the murky water pushed upward. Cough after needed cough left me vulnerable. Someone saw it, they grabbed my arm. I swung, muddy rock in hand, and the cry pelted the air before a splash. I didn’t look back to see who the male was or if he surfaced. Silence followed. When I made it out on solid ground I let my assumptions push me. 

They were faster, better equipped, taller, stronger, but I was not in the water. A lacerating pain hit my gut. It slowed me down a fraction and without my fae hearing, I didn’t register the impending heavy footsteps behind me. A boot pushed between my steps and I skidded to the damp floor, disappearing into the tall grass. 

The wind was knocked from my chest but before I could replace it a hand pressed over my mouth. A body followed it. 

“Listen carefully. Make for the thicker part of the woods diagonal from here.” It was Eris. He had me, I could feel the power in his having me, like the magic wanted him to do something, but he wouldn’t. He gritted his teeth. 

“Run. Do not stop running whatever you do.”

He was instructing me, helping me? Or making the game more fun. He didn’t want to marry me. A male close by let out a cry of agony and my eyes widened. I shook my head grasping at the hope he’d find sympathy for me, that it would remind him who I was. Yet where I expected some wickedness, looking at his face, taking in the words he was repeating, he didn’t look the same. His face looked softer than it had in all the years we��d seen each other, far less cruel. I could tell it, even in the darkness of night. His words registered fully once he pressed a blade to my hand. 

“You can make it.” He didn’t say where, or what was waiting, but a noise just after the last word came out must have caught his attention. His head whipped before he looked back at me and then I saw it, his mask. It slid so precisely into place. It was familiar, it was him, it reminded me of Rhys. 

He was saving me. 

I gripped the blade.

“Looks like fate is in my favor,” Eris said. 

The two men there looked on, eager that I was caught even if not at their hand. Neither of them was Lucien, if he’d even run with them at all. He’d just wanted to see me suffer, he was worse than Eris, and I never even knew it. 

Eris looked back at me with the most subtle of nods as the men approached. The grass hid the blade he’d given me. Did he know? Did he know what I knew to do? Or did he just believe in me, my ability to survive? Two twin shadows blocked out my face from the moon and it was the only signal Eris needed. The future High Lord of Autumn moved with the speed only a cauldron-blessed male could possess.

One swipe and the males were stumbling back.  I was up as soon as his body was off me. 

“What are you doing!” one yelled toward Eris and I looked for that thicker brush. It was an impenetrable darkness just to my left. I made to shift toward it, but the second male must have come after me instead of waiting behind because a hand was on me. I whirled with my blade and struck. Unluckily, he had a weapon of his own.

“Where'd you get that?” He said almost in awe. 

My eyes flicked toward Eris accidentally. The male before me smiled and I knew he understood. I gave Eris away. He could fight these two men on his own, maybe, but it was no guarantee. Before he could think of what the information meant, what he might do with it, I sent a slash and metal met metal. I would not let my mistake prove fatal for the only one who’d helped me. 

 It was sloppy work, all of us tired, all of us sopping. I could hear Eris fighting, swords striking almost in echo to our own. My opponent managed to slice my arm and I cried out, withdrawing from his reach.

“Ah, the little Illyrian.” the man said and he tapped at his shoulder subtly. 

Darkness swooped in, slick and faint. Halfway gone, I felt halfway gone. The cold of the gown was replaced with the warmth of the blood. No, none of this was good. 

My breath curled into the night, heaving, as light as smoke. It would be a fight then, there was no other way to go. I used all I had learned from Cassian to disarm him, widening my stance, lunging, and before he could even register the shifting weight of my body a sharp slice through his abdomen gutted him. He fell to his knees with a look of surprise but the last thing he saw was my back disappearing into the thick forest ahead. 

I could feel the darkness. It pooled around me with such intensity I was being dragged by it. Foolishly I waited for Rhys to arrive, to just know instinctively something was wrong, but even as I hoped I knew the shadowed world was nothing but the heaviness of an approaching end. 

I stumbled, a tree root and fell onto the path. I wanted to lift myself but all I could manage was to crawl into the brush. I leaned against the tree that had at last defeated me. The wetness on my side remained. Whatever shock that had settled under the skin had vanished and the weight of all that had happened pressed down on the wound. My breath was shallow enough, the warmth at my side great enough, that I understood I was about to die. Whatever Eris believed I’d make it to was too far. 

I could possibly winnow, but I had waited too long to go any distance greater than the edge of Day Court, if we were even near it. And even then, even if I did that, there was no telling what or who might be around, if anyone at all. 

So I would die, and Eris would die, if he hadn’t killed that male first. Maybe in the after worlds, the lives that came later, we could stomach one another. Or else, we would be given another opportunity to prevent this outcome. 

Something cracked near by and my mind drew blank. It was right there, the creature. My head nodded to the side momentarily becoming too heavy. The brush moved and moonlight basked my face. I brought down my sword and lunged now face to face with my opponent.

Lucien.

“Stop.” He said instantly. His warm fingers wrapped around my wrist and the knife fell. After everything he’d won. 

Behind us, Eris roared Lucien’s name into the night air with so much rage I thought the trees would strip themselves bare of their leaves. Without a word, he hauled me into his arms. I was limp, dead weight, curling around him like ivy and even then his speed didn’t diminish. The noises of the ceremony fell behind us. 

Your good blood is wasted, I don’t know anyone who’d have you.

I opened my eyes and with some found strength made to push Lucien away. I don’t know who was left in this game, but this was not an outcome I could manage. I would be no consolation prize. I shoved harder. Even if I couldn’t win I would like to die knowing I’d tried, just to say I had, just because it felt like it was what I would do. 

Lucien stepped off the path and dropped me, bark biting through the cotton. 

“Stop. If you do not listen to me, you will die.” He said sternly. “Eris and I are getting you out, back to Night Court.” His reprimand loud somehow didn’t echo in the near silent woods now. As if he’d willed it. 

“That’s treason. You’ll both lose your titles and be dead by morning.” 

If Eris wasn’t dead before, he was now. Lucien shook his head and our eyes met. He had a stern cold look about him but with everything, with all of the history, all the baggage I knew what he meant. Pain lanced through me, not from the wound, but from what he had planned.

“Don’t,” I said. “I’m not worth it.”

“It’s too late,” Lucien said simply, like he thought of me as an equal. “Eris has already planted the story of my betrayal. And unless you prefer to die I’d rather not see my mate slaughtered like a lamb.”

I felt my heart in my throat. That yell, that brutal raging yell, its purpose for us, and its origin a lie. How had Eris mustered the strength, the ability, to tell it so seamlessly? Who less than half an hour ago had been smiling at the thought of my demise. Lucien would be killed if he returned, if even I couldn’t find the seam of truth and fact in that voice. His crime was beyond the scope of the Autumn Court’s cruelty. Beron would have found some way to forgive Eis and his violence but this scapegoat, it was too perfect. 

They’d kill him and if they didn’t kill him they’d hunt him until they could. Anyone who claimed him would have their own death wish. Lucien, he’s now a prize for slaughter just the same as me. We were equals.

My knees gave out and Lucien moved forward to support me on instinct. We can’t both die. Death backed away a step, as if in answer, in negotiation. I prayed to that male waiting to take me through the veil, to any forgotten God who had nothing else to do, to the Cauldron and its humor. Let me get him safe, it is all I need. 

“I don’t want you to,” I said through my teeth as the burn raged in my gut. 

The oblivion receded. The darkness at my eyes cleared and life, in its small worships, returned. The thrum of whatever had coveted the soil at the start seemed to pull back within me, just barely. I was clearer of mind. I had something I didn’t have before. 

“You don’t have to. We’re going.” Lucien made to pick me up again but I shoved my forearm under his neck and twisted us around. He froze, mouth slightly agape and eyes narrowing. He didn’t fight, even if he would be able to outmaneuver me, overpower me, in this state. 

“You don’t get to make commands,” I said, the feelings, the position, the male, it was all too familiar. “Not after what your father did.”

He craned his neck down, nostrils the disgust on his face as plain as ever. Yes, this was familiar.

 “I had no part in that. The moment we discovered what they planned we made the decision then to get you out.” 

“And if you’re going to succeed you are to do exactly as I say.”

He barely reeled it in. Out of reach still, but closer than before, sounds of males desperate raging screams tore the night in half. Their anger so chilling we both had to look toward it. His focus changed though from what he couldn’t see to what he could. He looked longer, like he was saying goodbye, taking one final look, before in similar fashion as Eris something slid over his face that masked what had been there before. Only instead of it being a false front, to hide his true intentions, its indifference concealed a deep pain. I knew what was there though, and what it mourned. Even though he’d never said it—his mother, he mourned his mother.

The male nodded. We couldn’t waste any more time.

“Take us as far east as you can in the Night Court.”

This plan had to work. Death itself had granted me the power for it. It was a precise kind of weight, and I knew just what it would allow. 

Without question, his warm hand enveloped my arm. It was the only warmth left in the world. I didn’t need to know anything for that to feel worse than it did. Death held my coldest hand, but I couldn’t think about it or the new plan. At least there were goodbyes. Lucien looked forward like he could see it, what waited on the other side of his power. His face stony, seemed barely capable of emoting at all. There was a sense of doom on the precipice. The kind in which you realize you’ve just lost everything. 

Then a wind tucked around us and pushed us through the seam of the world. 

We jumped through space twice and when I opened my eyes I might have laughed. He’d landed us perfectly. Just ahead of me a rock carved with the Night Court insignia lay hidden. 

“I can’t get any further.” He said, looking around, eyes catching, constantly flicking back to that invisible wall. “We should go.”

The wards were close, and what a comfort to know they were working. I latched my arm around his, holding it with both my hands. Now now now now

“I know,” I said. “I’m taking us the rest of the way.”

“Us?” He said but before we could move I yanked him through the ward. He felt it, in fact, his eyes narrowed in the places he’d caught before. Backing away from me, he stared at the space behind me, warped ever so slightly to the eye, like it would reveal something. You’d have to know to look for it to see it truly. 

“What did you do.” He said, disbelief clouding his face while anger descended upon him. 

“You’re staying with me. These wards won’t let you out.” I said, a small lie. Though he might not want to leave anymore, he very well could. 

Lucien’s entire face morphed with familiar disgust. “If I’ve saved you just to be killed by the High Lord of the Night Court—”

“You forfeited your life to that wretched place. You’d be lucky to have the swift death at my court’s hand.” It was so easy to be cruel to him. Even if I wouldn’t let him die least of all the way Beron would have done it, I didn’t mind wounding him. How rarely we ever came to blows with such severity and even still I knew just what to say.

“That's my home.” He plowed forward. Easy indeed. 

“If you leave…” I said. 

The world began to grow fuzzy, a warning, perhaps, that the generosity of fate was a limited thing. My power momentarily flickered in and out. We needed to go and we needed to go now. I leaned into the tall male before me for support. I was sure I was pale, sure that he couldn’t deny me. “They’ll kill you. Please, Lucien.”

Without another hesitation, the anger lost to him, he grabbed me. “Go,” He said. “Now.”

I took the last of my power, wrapped it around us, and again we were gone. 

Just as soon as we landed in the living room I collapsed forward. The deal was done. My side burned with such intensity I could barely breathe. Lucien was lifting me toward the table in an instant. He didn’t even look around the room, it was like he knew it. He dodged two chairs, a table. Whatever was on the slab of wood fell to the floor shattering in the otherwise silent house. 

The chaos, then, was born. 

Footsteps barreled through the hall and Rhys and Morr appeared through the doorway. They pushed through the furniture. It was carnage, everything was tossed over in favor of getting closer. 

“What happened?” Morr said

Rhys didn’t care. “Get Madja” and without a thought, our cousin was gone. 

“I got her here as soon as I could,” Lucien said as though he’d been here a thousand times. The townhouse, Velaris, the High Lord of Night Court, none of it mattered. The history was erased, he had tried his best, he had helped, it was all he wanted to say. His voice promised too, the desire to do more. If given an order he’d take it. 

Rhys focused his gaze, realizing for the first time just who had been holding me, who was standing in his house. He hesitated, just enough, that I saw what he was about to do and pushed myself off the table. Just an instant of his power could be irreversible.

I was not fast enough, not as fast as I should be. The darkness drew back from the corners of the room. Death watched, waiting to see who he’d take. No— as I approached the two males something about that assessment felt false. I was ashamed even, to have considered it. Something watched me curiously, whatever had given me that power, it gave a kernel more back.

 By the time I got close enough to grab Rhys and use it, he had Lucien by the neck. 

“I should rip your throat out.”

“Rhys!” 

Lucien didn’t look at me, a slight redness taking in features. I pulled my brother's shirt, blood smearing on the sleeve I tugged and tugged but he was too afraid, too focused in his pursuit of revenge. He almost lost the only full-blood family he had left. Nothing mattered besides this fact. I moved between them. Rhys couldn’t look either, he refused to. 

I pressed my back into Lucien and wrapped my arms behind me to hold myself tight into him as if my body would force air into it just by being there. 

“Let him go,” I said with the practiced sternness of regality. As if I were talking to someone in the Hewn City. I repeated it two, three times, let him go, let him go, let him go. Yet each one fell apart in my mouth, the thread of desperation growing tighter. Its influence forced a wetness from my eyes. 

Lucien’s hands which had been on Rhys's wrist reached down and grabbed mine, tightening around it. He did not come all this way to die in the townhouse. My family home was not a place of such violence. It was a brutality I was tired of. 

I tried to get into my brother's mind but it was shielded and the pain at my side became too much. He felt it anyway, me at his mind, because once I hit the shield the first time his jaw slackened. He registered, for a second time, the male in the living room.

 Lucien gasped a breath. 

“Rhysand,” Morr yelled rushing toward us. I hadn’t heard her, hadn’t even seen until she was there. “you're upsetting Y/N.” 

All words had gone. Lucien gasped for air, the grip loosening further, but I didn't look. I didn’t want to injure anyone more, find something primal in my need for Rhys to drop him. It was enough.  

The rage left his eyes and Lucien fell. Relief, like death, flooded me as my mate leaned into me for support for half a second. The darkness moved toward the edges of the room again. This was it. So I let Lucien lean, even as the pain returned. 

“He did this to you?” Rhys asked.

I shook my head, and when I faced my family, their brows furrowed in shock, confusion, moved closer together with worry. Lucien, who still pressed his warmth into my palm, gripped me tighter by the wrist and it was the first sign to me I was falling. He was the only tether left to the real world. Everything else snapped the moment that blade struck. It was all Madja needed. 

Morr ordered everyone out, her familiar arms lifting me back to where I’d been. I asked her to go watch the two males. She didn’t argue and left. A piece of the panic in my own heart settled. I hadn’t known that it was reserved for Lucien, hadn’t known that it was not for my own safety, but for his. I knew it was bad from the healer’s face. I waited for the darkness at the corners of the room to envelope the world, but they stayed put. 

I hadn’t said goodbye, but that was not part of the deal. Still, they waited, as if idle, again watching. Selfishly I was glad at least it had stopped hurting. The old fae’s hands moved quickly, her eyes scanning, I felt them both probing in and out of me, like she were under the skin. Maybe she was, I hadn’t seen the wound. 

“This may be unpleasant.”

I made to open my eyes, to see what she was doing, but just as I did she poured a solution over my skin. The pain that had been coming in its waves, returned at full force, twofold. Closing my eyes only made it worse, I became acutely aware of the deepness with which the solution entered my body, the sensation of the burning, the moving hands, the panic. I cried out, yelled unlike any of the yells I’d had in the Autumn Court. To survive this would be the hardest work, but to speak after was something of a miracle. 

“How you made it this long without passing out I don’t know,” she said.

Tears began to wet the side of my face again, and she just watched. It was all she could do while my head shook like even if she could she would take it back. My muscles contracted in directions out of my control. I couldn’t reach for her, couldn’t even beg more than a shake of the head and inaudible cries.

“What did this? Who did it?”

I didn’t answer, turning my head into the cool wood of the table. My teeth gritted so tight I don’t think air made it through, let alone words. 

“I need to know.” She said grabbing my face to look at her. I felt the stickiness of blood on my chin. I’d gotten used to the metalic scent. It was all I could smell. 

“Beron,” I gasped out pulling from her, squirming away. “With a blade.”

“Was the blade special?”

I clamped my eyes shut and the darkness was too impure for what I wanted. I wanted to find I was no longer seeing, faced with the voice. Each time I tried to escape the pain I found, always, I could get no further from it. The solution she’d poured was still making its way down into the deep of my body, further than I tracked my existence. “What?”

“Did you notice anything about it?”

I shook my head gripping the table. “It burned when he sliced me, I thought it was fire.”

She sighed and inhaled deeply before she nodded, grabbing for her supplies with fervor. The pain was coming in waves offering momentarily relief. 

“I have to do it the human way. If I use magic to heal this it will only grow worse.”

“What?” I said

“It hurts like this because your body is trying to heal it with magic which the blade is specifically cursed to prevent. It makes death slow, excruciating for fae, allowing only a little healing before reverting back.”

I let myself wallow as she attempted to thread the needle, but when my shaking proved too difficult to work with she threw a towel over my body and quickly left. For a moment I thought I’d died. I’d died and was trapped inside for just a second to see it all unfold in another layer of agony. Only she returned with someone. A tall, tanned male. His face did not betray him so easily but I knew that he was shaken up. I reached my hand out for him.

“Cassian,” I said but my voice was weak, shaken.

He approached but seemed not to know what to say, instead choosing to grab for my hand. He knelt and I was eye level with the kind familiarity of his face. The first pierce of the needle almost proved too much, with every other pain, and I clamped my eyes shut so hard I saw stars. I squeezed his hand, all that power gone, I didn’t even think about if I could hurt him. I knew I couldn’t. 

“My, my, have you gotten stronger? I think my finger is broken.”

When I was younger, regardless of how long we’d been apart, he’d hug me and always say that same line. I laughed a little, as best as I could manage which sounded more like crying.

“Rhys isn’t killing Lucien is he?”

He barely managed more of a laugh than I did but shook his head. “No, but it's taking all his and Morr’s effort.”

“Good.” I said through gritted teeth “He’s not half bad to look at I’d hate to lose the new Velaris eye candy.”

“That's probably the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say about your mate.”

“If I do die at least I have a good confession. You’ve all wanted to know what I thought of him this long.”

“You can’t die,” Cassian said moving forward with such seriousness I almost went to say I was kidding but he continued. “We have 7 AM training.”

The needle disappeared seemingly. Whatever had been in that solution had begun to diminish, the waves of pain coming more slowly and with less force. It still left me breathless, but even that was a relief compared to what had happened. I would have sworn my rib was broken if the pain didn’t seem to be inflamed and surging at once.

“What you thought a little flesh wound would get you out of it? No, I don’t think so. No special treatment, even for the High Lord’s sister.”

“What if I told you I used your disarming technique.”

Cassian’s eyebrows rose, “did you? Tell me about it.”

“Gutted him.”

Madjas work faded even more as I told him what I remembered, the tips he’d taught me. The choice to grab Cassian of all people, was perhaps her best and greatest prescription. 

“That’s what I like to hear.”

It was getting darker now. My throat strained on it and my eyes began to close as if I were falling into a deep sleep. The only thing that kept me awake was the sudden intensity with which Cassian squeezed my hand.

“Keep talking to me. You gotta keep talking.”

I tried to swallow, but nothing was there to swallow, and my throat began to burn in a different way. I felt the flare of my nostrils as I tried to hold it in, the pain on top of the pain, but I knew it was obvious. Knew now that my eyes glittered and clouded with unshed emotion, waiting to come out. 

“Promise me you’ll be nice to Lucien.” Cassian hesitated and I gave him the only glare I could manage. “Please.”

“I will. For you, I will.”

I shook my head, I didn’t want him to do it for me. The violence all these years, what we’d fed each other and allowed, was what brought this. It was one thing, what Lucien and I did, but it was harmless just the same. He could call me names, fight with me, mock me, but nothing would ever make me desire harm against him. This was a well-bred hatred, that had born such violence. We were all part of it, in our own malicious way. 

“You don’t understand. None of you do. You won’t even look, really look, at someone.”

I didn’t know if something like that could be undone, but at least we might say we tried. I dropped his hand and began to wipe at my face. Who knows what would happen, how I’d heal. If my mate would be stranded in Velaris or away from me. An instant protectiveness of him became me in a way it never had. 

Cassian sighed, “it will take time.” 

“I know, but you just have to try.”

“Okay, I’ll try. No more tears, not over this,” Cassian said, taking my hand back. The male seemed lost in thought for a moment before he brightened and added. “I’ll take him to Rita’s.” 

I really laughed at that and it sent the rest of my tears out of my eyes to make room for new emotions to sit there. Cassian looked less scared, softer now. Whatever was going on behind me must have been a major improvement. In fact, I felt as if my color had returned a little. “He’d be a hit there I have to say.”

“Do you have a crush on him?” I scoffed but Cassian's amusement was hard to miss. The smile on his face got broader. “I’ve always suspected that there was a little something there c'mon you can tell your cool older brother.”

“You won’t tell?”

“Not a soul.”

I closed my eyes, reluctant. I’d made such deals before, but I opened my mouth to keep talking as the sound of the scissors cutting the thread sliced through the room like a surrender, a victory. “He's certainly not a bad male to be mated to. He keeps me very entertained.”

Cassian smiled “Well isn’t it convenient that 50 years later he’s now in Velaris.”

Madja stood and the moment was broken, Cassian met her eye and nodded to whatever the healer had gestured. I did not have time to be embarrassed for what had been shared between us. Most of them had teased me about Lucien and our dislike for one another. Rhys was the worst about it, though Morr and Cassian were tied for second. All of them secretly believed we’d been together, been in love. Only Morr had reason to believe such a thing.  

Cassian moved around the table and they spoke in hushed tones. 

“He’s her mate?” The healer said before I could sense that I was alone. As they left, so too did a darkness from around the room, like a thin cloud had, at last, passed over the sun. Perhaps I had never been that close to death at all, or maybe the shadows were proof, really, of how close I was regardless of if they were real or not.

It was hard to say how much time passed, but after a moment footsteps entered into the dining room again.

“Cassian?” I said keeping my eyes closed.

“Calling your mate by another male’s name is not exactly polite.”

I turned my head so slowly, it seemed to take every bit of available energy. He was stock straight, standing in the entryway and I didn’t speak, didn’t move. I really beheld him then. Despite his face, he was warth made real. His throat bobbed, and the first step he took walked toward the edge of the table was lethargic, tentative. By the time he reached the edge though, he was more confident, kneeling just as Cassian had. His doing it seemed tender, almost sincere. Unlike Cassian however he didn’t hold my hand, he instead reached to brush away the hair on the side of my face that had become glued down by my tears.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Tired.” My voice cracked. I let my head fall to the side, let him hold its weight before righting myself. 

“Do you need anything?”

He offered it as if he knew where to go, if I asked for water, for food, he’d walk through my house like it were his own. Or else, there was a kind of bravery in his willingness to face my court and say I wanted it. In his position, I’d have been useless. I shook my head, my eyes falling to the red ring around his throat. Something in me wanted to lash out, a whip in my chest. 

His hand brushed more hair away drawing my focus back. “You did good.”

I don’t know if that was ever a word he’d described me as. Good. It sat in my mouth like marbles. I almost made to look to see where we were, if this were Prythain and not some other universe close by. Yet even my voice had taken on that tone that had no name. The kind that spoke like we were laying in bed together, like there was a long-time intimacy between us. Perhaps hatred, just as much, could make one known to another, could make a language for which only you two understood. 

Lucien’s eyes caught sight of something above my head and he reached for it. “She said that I need to check the bond.” Warmth pooled along my cheek. He had a rag, a fresh one, and he began to wipe the blood from my face. 

“Why?”

“A mate has…certain capabilities, sight, that can be helpful with injuries like this.”

I nodded, his fingers delicate and different than I remembered or imagined. I turned my head almost knowing where to go intuitively and he dragged the warm rag over me before dropping it back in the bowl. A small act of care. 

While he began to focus on our bond I studied his face. I could feel it instantly, that growing tension, as if he were pulling on something in me. If it weren’t so hard to move I’d think I was sliding off the table into him. My chest becoming his chest, his eyes mine, fingers. I scanned his features, he’d not lost the granite look he had in Autumn. He was different now though. If not on his own then simply in the way he appeared to me. He should be, loss does that, and he’d just lost his family, his mother. Something in me ached and just as the pain in my heart pierced me Lucien’s eyes flicked to mine. 

“You’re very handsome.” I couldn’t even commit to the idea I hadn’t been thinking those words. That I was saying so only to avoid the pain of my sympathy for him. It would be foolish to pretend it was not true, I’d always known it. I’d said it just because, because I guess I was trying to discover what was in this new difference, what we could do with it. 

The tension inside me stopped and Lucien’s brows rose in the shock before he began to smile just a tad.“Took you 50 years to figure that out?”

“Didn’t want to boost your ego.”

He laughed a little and I felt the pull begin again. I closed my eyes. He must have noticed after a while because he started talking again, even though it felt as though the worst of it was over. I didn’t think I was in danger anymore.

“My ego is no bother to you now?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Being chased through the woods has a way of putting things into perspective.”

“Maybe I should tell Madja something’s wrong with you.” 

I smiled as faintly as he had. This was I think the most civil we’d ever been in all our lives and even now it held an air of rudeness. It was laughable. Who knows where we’d be in 50 more years. 

“If you’re going to be here I might as well give you a chance to be bearable. I know you’re narcissistic.” 

“How mature you’ve become.”

“I always have been. You’re just too old to remember. What are you 400? 500?” the mating bond in place seemed to strain with emotion. Not one that I could decipher but it was like I’d been let in somewhere or a flood gate had been opened and all of it and its complexity came spiraling out. It ended shortly after.

“300.”

“You’ve got 100 years on me. Where’s your kindness.”

“I saved your life that's pretty kind.” He said standing.

I hummed, “yeah well Eris saved it first so you’ll have to do a bit better than that.”

I might have noted how it felt to make him laugh so many times, might have wondered at the strange world we’d seemed to find ourselves within, as if winnowing had sent us sideways into another universe, rather than through our own. Instead, I felt something else, something not heavy at all, but light and wispy, vanishing from the room. It was nameless, even looking back at the two moments did not reveal the nature of what had left. Instead just an instant before, my left hand seemed to hold something within it. Like a caress but laden with meaning. My fingers flinched around the phantom. Then Lucien’s hand too, the same one, in the same instant, flexed. 

“Y/N.” Rhys said from the hall. My mate drew back, seamlessly capable of diminishing his presence at will. He made himself less visible all altogether, I could not forget though. “Using magic is off limits while that wound heals. You’ll have to remain in bed.”

I smiled, if only to tell Rhys I was alive and exhausted, “your early morning training threats will be postponed then.” 

He could barely laugh, but he tried. He turned to Lucien, similarly incapable of forgetting him now that he was here, in this house. “I’ll show you to your room. Cassian and Morr are taking you Y/N.” 

The Lord of Bloodshed appeared behind my brother and I let my head fall to the side, everything slowed down. I felt like a wounded prey. Even my blinks came at a crawl. 

Cassian though didn’t look toward me first, he watched Lucien. His gaze trained on my mate, as if studying him. I saw something there between them which had no category, no definitive emotion, but it was like the context of my confession was a haze with which Cassian was trying to see this Lucien. Not the Lucien he knew of his own construction, but the one there, who’d traveled all that way, who’d tried for his life to get me home.

Lucien must have noticed the pause and the two ever so slightly nodded. Maybe what had left was that bitterness between us all, or else, the intensity for which it blinded us. Reluctance and yet the threads of trust passed between them. I understood only that what had happened wouldn’t be forgotten but the possibility that they could know each other differently was there just the same. 

Then Cassian looked at me and smiled. His hands reached under me and as gently as ever he pulled me off the table. He waited for any tension or wincing, speaking only once we were sage and upright.  “You know how many females would kill for this?” 

Rhys chimed in behind us. “None from what I remember.” 

“You’re just mad because you’ve been sorely lacking on our trips to Rita’s.” 

“Keep it to yourself,” Morr said. “Y/N’s already queasy.” 

***

Morr managed to clean me up. Though magic had been off limits for me, I was glad at least that its use by others didn’t burn. From the bureau, she’d managed to pull a shirt and pants. Each delicate movement sent a searing burn into my side. With every small victory, I took a breath: a hand through the armhole, my head pulled out of the neck. 

“How do humans do it?” I said wincing when she’d had me lift my leg. 

“They’re almost resilient if you think about it.” 

After tying the pants shut, however, my cousin looked at me with a cocked brow. The clothes were clearly a male’s. The shirt had too deep a neckline for females, it pooled open when we bent to reveal the bandages. The pants had to be pulled beyond their means to be tied to fit.

“Rhy’s was gone.”

“Oh that's not my question, I wanna know what your guests walked out of here with?”

I kept as much grace and delicacy as I could manage, sitting in my bed. Exhaustion was at last closing in with a welcome it had not had before. My cousin tossed the blankets over me, but I knew better than to lie down. Rhys would be here at any moment. 

I could tell Morr wanted to ask. She sat in the chair as if waiting for a solstice gift, the kind of expectant look children get, but I think she wanted to be respectful. I knew though, she wanted to ask. What happened out there, between you both? What could change things so drastically? I opened my mouth as if I words existed to tell her, and she sat forward too like she knew what was coming.

“Whose clothes are those?” Rhys said. If there had been words to say he’d have interrupted them, but as it happened I didn’t know what could change us both in such a way. I wasn’t even sure I knew where I was. 

“Cassian let me borrow them.”

I was quick, but it was useless. The male himself walked in behind him and seemed confused upon hearing his name. Rhys, however, did not even consider my lie because the clothes were far too small to be his. There weren’t even holes for the wings. We had a kind of agreement, to say as little as we could about such things. 

The gravity of our situation settled when Rhys pulled up the chair near my bed. The tightness of his movements, the precise arc of his brow. He always had a different look when he considered me, my words, as my High Lord. I could tell the difference of who I was speaking to. I was so tired I thought I might cry again, at the thought of having to hash out details now. If I did he wouldn’t be cruel, he wouldn’t push.

“I won’t ask any questions tonight, but I do need to know if he hurt you.” Rhys began to say. He didn’t say his name, just acknowledging Lucien strained on his vocal cords like the words were too big to leave his throat. Whether he’d heard me downstairs, if he’d felt that need for the Autumn male to remain unscathed, he wanted me to say it aloud, he wanted reasons.

“He got me out. He and Eris, they had a plan.”

“Eris?” Cassian chimed in. “He was there too?”

I felt a heat burn into my lower back, not that of the one by the blade, but more familiar. They’d made no promises to me, my court, only death had. If I wasn’t careful they could kill him for his family’s crimes, they could be unforgiving. My hands balled the comforter and I looked between the three warriors watching me. I felt so like them and yet so unlike them just the same. A warrior of a different kind, not meant to fight. Not meant maybe for their world, yet I was a part of it and I felt its influence gladly, with warmth. The strains though were showing. Something had changed in those woods, that much was true.

“I behaved badly,” Rhysand said, knowing what I was thinking without stepping inside my mind. “I’m committed to hearing out all sides before I make any decisions.”

I met his calculated stare. “They asked for the blessing of the Lares.”

The whole room dropped in temperature as if all the heat had been snuffed out by shadow. It was indeed ancient magic, from fae across the sea, not so much done here, where the chosen bride was taken against her will. The male intended for her was set in pursuit, and the Lares donated some of their magic to him. That was what Eris had been fighting against, the urge to release the magic, only capable when I let out a cry of pain. Beron would pick up whatever backwater ceremonies he could that allowed violence, warping them, making them worse. 

“I could barely winnow. He was the one who got us to the Night Court. I just got us into the townhouse.”

I shifted with the weight of my brother's pity. Rhys had never really asked me about my mating bond. Even the teasing historically had been more about tolerating Lucien than the thought we’d ever truly acknowledge what we were. No, not once had he asked me of Lucien and Velaris or what it was like, to have that tether, and if there was anything we wished to do with it. 

How could he though? When it had snapped into place Lucien and I were at each other's necks in the Day Court visiting as guests. We’d snuck into an alcove of the great library to try and resolve an argument but at its peak, Lucien’s eyes burned with hatred and realization. I knew what it meant. I didn’t have to ask why he’d looked so disgusted. It was a rare moment of unity, not so much civil as we’d been downstairs, but neutral. We agreed that it was unfounded, that we might ever be mated truly. 

We’d run into each other as we moved through courts and seasons alike, dancing with whoever, kissing whoever, flirting with whoever. No one was off limits besides each other. Occasionally when our manners overpowered the anger we’d agree to meet somewhere and have it out. We were so cautious it took 25 years for Rhys to find out. It slipped when I was drunk and he was so livid after I explained our arrangement I spent three months waking at dawn to train with Cassian.

“He was ready to die tonight for me. He forfeited his title to save me.” I said my voice hushed.

Everyone straightened, this was news, terrible news, only adding to the complexity. It meant he didn’t simply have a member of the Autumn Court, but it’s unclaimed exile. If Beron discovered before we told him that we’d had him there’d be reason for a blood duel, for a war.  

“He what?” Morr said, her voice barely a whisper.

“I forced him through the Velaris wards. He told me Eris and he planned to plant a story of treason. If he leaves this court, if he remains unclaimed, he’ll be slaughtered. I couldn’t let them do that.” 

To him, I couldn’t let them do that, to him I nearly said. A careful mask, one that I felt guilty about. It made me look better than I was, to take anyone's life so seriously, but the truth was I cared only for his. I’d done it for him and him alone. I’d probably have left Eris, trusted him to figure it out, just as I had in that clearing after the river. 

A heat of embarrassment struck and whatever color I had regained grew more intense. What I did want them to know though, was that it mattered to me. That if I had a say I did not want Lucien dead. He never intended to make it out tonight. He wasn’t just forfeiting a title, He was giving up his life for me. If we were equals, I intended to do the same. 

“I’m incredibly serious when I say this. I want you all to be good to him. He lost everything tonight.”

For all his friends I wasn’t sure any could claim him. I had little power over this outcome, but if there were any I’d use it. We were his best shot. It was no small ask, the fallout of claiming someone who’d committed treason could start wars. I knew though, knew that to reveal my hopes and his sacrifice changed enough. 

Across from me, the softness of an older brother returned once more. Rhysand bowed his head in acknowledgment while Morr and Cassian followed suit.

“Not everything.” Rhys smiled and before I could ask what he meant he added, “it is clear we are indebted to him. I don’t know how we’ll move forward from here, but I can at least offer him refuge.”

I let out a breath, relaxing further in the place where I had unknowingly reserved such worries for Lucien. My brother stood and the pity of the group was relinquished to the night. 

“Rest, we can talk more on it all later. You’re both safe and that's what matters.”

The group made to leave, flicking out the lights. What might the rest of the court make of all this, having spent 50 years on the outskirts with too much to say about it. Cassian had already gotten something less scathing from me. Tomorrow, in the days to come, would we revert to our old selves and let tonight be nothing? Later, as Rhys said. The lights dimmed but from the hall, the shadowy figure of Cassian peered back into the room. 

 “I can’t promise I won’t wield my words if provoked.” 

“You’re barely coherent now.”

I heard his laugh from behind the door. 

***

Sleep came quickly at first, but it began to flicker in and out. The deepness of it grew more shallow and I, unable to toss and turn, felt restless near dawn. It seemed this new feeling, this new world, would not go away. Much like falling asleep for the first time in a new room, despite being surrounded by my belongings and friends, I couldn’t get comfortable within it. So I watched the window, waiting for the new day, where. As the sky lightened to that purple dusk, the door to my room creaked open and I knew precisely who was there.

Lucien, similarly in borrowed clothes, wore a knit sweater of Azriel’s and some pants. I wanted to smile, would have smiled but I was too tired to tell myself to do it. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move, we just stared at each other. Not the same Lucien really, nor I the same female. This new Lucien was keen on not speaking, and when I realized that I broke the silence. 

“Why are you awake?” 

“I can feel your restlessness down the bond.” 

I made to sit up, biting a groan, but Lucien put his hand out to stop me. It's not as if I was particularly polite and regal with him before. 

“Sorry, I can’t even shield.”

 “The healer mentioned.” 

He pulled the chair Rhys had been in closer to the edge of my bed. It groaned with his weight, the ease with which he leaned back, relaxed, like he hadn’t discovered this long-held secret. He was as casual as ever but that was familiar to me. I could make him angry or nothing, rarely anything else. I could navigate this easily, I knew the body of his relaxed posture, every flinch, every raising of his brow. What I didn’t know was what I wanted him to feel when I didn’t want him mad. The quality of the light grew more pure through the window. Not quite dawn yet not really day. In the beam of it, he looked beautiful. It was almost becoming of him, to see him in Velaris. I almost liked him. 

He smiled, the smile he gave when he knew something about me that I didn’t want him to know. I moved my mind to other thoughts but that only garnered greater amusement. 

“So guarded even still.” He said, his keen observations never unspoken.

“I have to be or you’d use it against me.” 

He shrugged his shoulders in agreement, he could only acknowledge the merit of my argument without words. I could call him handsome but it would sooner kill him to say I was right. His eyes fell out over the room and I watched his assessment, felt it, like they were Madja’s working hands. He lingered on the bookshelf.

“I’ll drop my shield too.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure it's annoying, feeling what I feel.”

He shook his head. 

“When did it start?” I asked. How much had I revealed of myself? When could he begin to know precisely how much I was feeling?

“The moment he cut into you your shields dropped.”

In the river, I’d had that surge of power, like it had come from somewhere else. If he’d been with Eris he might have seen it, might have… I don’t know how this worked between us. If he could even do such a thing. But stranger things had happened, mates were always surprising. 

“Here,” Lucien said. He didn’t wait for me to give a definitive answer. At once there was a second weight of feeling in the place where the thread belonged. He watched me register it, those feelings of guilt and grief, before the core of it warmed significantly to something kinder. 

“Now we’ll both be vulnerable and we can see what the other will do with it.”

I said nothing. I knew what he meant, to see what we’d do with it. Would we wield it against each other, in argument, in our real lives if they ever came back which I suspected they would. We’d revert back to ourselves in some ways with this information, vying to have power over each other like always. To know each other like we did, that could be leveraged.

This was power of a different kind, to hold that vulnerability in my chest, to know he held my own. This was not a separate giving and taking, it was a power we had together.

“Alright. So long as you don’t brood too often.”

Lucien’s face softened and it was hard to get used to, the feelings that seemed to exist outside and yet within. A twinge of amusement had come from his chest to mine. Then suddenly admiration, then grief which settled itself more readily, like it had been there so long it knew where to go. It was like getting used to a second heartbeat in echo with your own.

“Sorry.” He said knowingly. I wondered if my face showed the pain of it, or his chest. “If things get too somber I'll shield.”

“Don’t.” 

Even if we never mated, there was a chance now to come to terms with what was between us in a way I had never considered to want. I was asking my court to change, and so too it was only fair that I did, if only in the smallest of ways. I don’t know what would become of us, what that looked like, but regardless in order to change there had to be newness, I had to see Lucien in a way different from how we’d been.

“I’m sorry about my brother,” I said.

“I can more readily sympathize with him having seen the state of you. I don’t know what I’d do if I were him. I don’t think I’d have hesitated.”

He detached himself the longer he spoke. The image I didn’t doubt took shape in his mind, informing his sympathy, deepening it.

“You’re not your father.”

His grief was overwhelming, but I tried not to show it, tucking away the sincerest version of him I’d ever known. The chandelier overhead swayed like the weight of those words had moved it. The wind howled at the window, a draft then, the shadows deepening but not how they had when I was on the table downstairs. 

“Do you feel different?” I dared to ask.

“In what way?”

“I don’t know. When you went into the bond was there anything strange?”

Lucien thought for a moment, his eyes on the ceiling where mine had just been. The bond quieted to a contemplative hum. The thoughts were not so readily available, not at least, how they’d been when we wielded them to wound.

“Nothing was out of place. Does something feel wrong? Should I wake the healer?”

I shook my head. “It’s not like that. I thought maybe you’d feel it too.” Disappointment came and went as I remembered that Lucien would feel it, only after his anxiety stitched itself in my own chest. He stood just a bit and pulled the chair closer to the bed.

“I want to understand.”

“I don’t feel real,” I said my own words hushed. My voice knew I was embarrassed before I did. “It would have never occurred to me to do half of what I’ve done tonight. I don’t even think I would have imagined it, imagined you and me…but it’s happening right?” 

“It is.” 

“I thought so.” 

A wave of fear powerful enough for Lucien to feel moved through me. He shifted with it in his seat, leaning forward his elbows on his knees. “What are you afraid of?”

I blinked a few times. There was no amusement, no teasing. Just a genuine question between us, rare and new. I wasn’t sure I wanted to say the answer. I hadn’t been well versed in being honest with him, it went against my instincts.

“It’s stupid.” 

“You’re never stupid about anything.”

For the first time all night, I hoped he felt the gratitude that wove itself within me. “Something changed between us out there. I’m afraid to find out what it is.”

On the nightstand was a glass of water. Lucien reached for it and passed it over to me, our fingers brushing. I hadn’t realized how dry my throat was, how crackling my voice had become, like a fireplace, like the embers. I drank it but a softness in my throat remained, words seemed less solid than ever before. My only true weapon. 

He took the glass and set it down before saying, “do you remember in the Day Court when the bond snapped?”

I nodded. 

“At dinner, we’d been sat next to each other and we started going at it. Who knows what it was about. You were wearing a rather racy dress, might I add. Golden, like sunlight—starlight, and it exposed your whole back which you’d had facing me the whole time until our fight forced us to excuse ourselves. In the library after a good 15 minutes, you said to me, if you should find a female dim enough to bed you we can only hope the offspring don’t inherit their parent's lack of intelligence.”

His face didn’t change, but he looked different when he began to speak. I felt nothing down the bond, perhaps only greater emotions managed their way through, but the more he spoke the warmer he got even though I couldn’t say what feature of his had shifted to reveal it. 

“It snapped after you said that, like you’d dared the Cauldron somehow. And all that we quarreled over, the reason we’d left to begin with vanished from our minds and clearly since has not returned. Something new had happened, things had changed.” 

 The moral of the story had been delivered in its unassuming way. The old goes, we forget about what happened, we move on to other things. It was of enough comfort to me that I began to grow tired. 

“We’ll figure things out just as we always have.” He said and I recalled that flex of his hand, the warmth of him around my wrist when he’d gasped for air. I’d supported his weight just a fraction, but it had been so warm. My breath began to pick up, just a little, and I shifted in the bed closer to the edge he occupied. I extended my hand.

“You can hold it,” I said so quietly as if we were teenagers at the mercy of chaperones and fae hearing. I said he could hold it, but really I was asking him to. I felt his watching me, so keenly. It wouldn’t have taken the bond for him to know what I meant, he always managed to before. 

Lucien hesitated in a way he had not earlier when he’d tucked my hair behind my ear. It's any wonder what sort of instinctual behavior came with his mating bond, how he’d felt so comfortable to be tender whereas now the confidence had evaporated. Regardless, it was a short hesitation. He slipped his fingers delicately underneath my palm and I found the new warmth of him engulfing me was already familiar. 

My eyes felt heavy then. I nearly suspected a sleeping drought in the water. “And will things be different tomorrow? Back to normal?” 

“I should think so, yes.” He hesitated as if waiting for my reaction but it didn't bother me. Not at least now. 

“I was scared of that but I no longer am.” 

He spoke softly like a breeze, his words ghostly, scarcely there. “It doesn’t have to be the same forever.” 

“No. I don’t want things to be.” I said unsure of what that meant, of the future we spoke of and how it looked. I could scarcely imagine much else between us, even as the once wretched male managed to be comforting, sincere. Down the thread between us, I felt something close to endearment, but it was new, tentative. Then it shifted, it became lukewarm.

“I had wanted to get to you first,” Lucien said his stare once again taking on that greater distance, somewhere out of my reach. A heavy grief set itself between us. “That was the plan, but I didn’t get there.”

I squeezed his hand. I hoped it would be an anchor like he was to the real world just a few hours ago downstairs. I wanted to bring him back here, to bring him back to the dawn, to this story where we now sat together in a sincerity of our making.

“With matters like this,” I said as his eyes found their way back to mine. “The last male left is usually the better.”

I don’t know if he was convinced, but his shoulders sagged a fraction, and it appeared that was enough. He squeezed my hand back.

 “Sleep, I’ll stay here as long as I’m able.”

I nodded and he did not leave, not even when I closed my eyes or when I opened them again a few hours later and he told me to sleep again. Even though the light was brighter and morning seemed in full and silent swing. When I woke for the day, however, he was nowhere to be seen. The chair was back against the wall, like nothing had changed at all.

#This is meant to be 4-5 parts #I don't remember much of the intricacies of the ACOTAR universe with mating bonds #or the politics #I just like the characters and that lay of the land and am in the process of rereading #I wrote a lot of day dreams with Lucien so I thought it would be fun to share while I figured out how to write fiction #lucien vanserra #self insert #acotar #lucien acotar #lucien fanfic #lucien x reader #lucien x you #sjm books #night court #that is all #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom

[foxcort]

2023 AO3 Year-End Fic Review

thank you for tagging me @praetorqueenreyna 💚🤗

What is your AO3 account?

foxcort @ ao3, but im also gonna link my account on squideworld (which has nothing rn but im going to start posting there instead and its got about the same vibe as ao3)

2. How many words did you write total in 2023?

i wrote 10773 words and it was all for acotar!

3. How many fics did you publish in 2023? How many multichapters vs oneshots?

i wrote 6 fics for the entire year (which is surprisingly more than i originally thought!), 5 of which were oneshots and 1 of which was a collection of drabbles. im hoping to start writing at least 1 multichapter in 2024

4. What was your longest fic? Your shortest fic?

my longest was a heart of scales and storms at 2785 words, which was a feylin mermay oneshot and my shortest was spring memories at 714 words, which was the first fic i contributed to this fandom (and one that has a very special place in my heart)

5. What was your most popular fic? Your least popular fic?

comforter was my most popular fic at 447 hits and my least popular was a court of ice and fire at 43 hits, which is completely understandable considering its an oddly specific au and the only chapter i have posted is tamlin-centric, but i still love the idea and hope my muse can come around to contributing more to it this year!

6. What fic didn't perform as well as you thought it would?

hmm maybe a heart of scales and storms? the statistics show that it only got 53 hits, but i still remember the comments i got for that fic and @haniaaaaaaaaaaa drew ✨this✨ beautiful art piece inspired by it! so from the reception the fic garnered it feels like it should have more than 53 hits but honestly i had so much fun writing it and i remember smiling so wide my face hurt for days after bc of the comments/artwork that it didn’t feel like it didn’t perform well (as far as hits go)!

7. What fic performed way better than you thought it would?

oh wildfire at 192 hits (this is a lot for me lol), which was an erisweek entry and the first time i ever attempted writing from his pov. honestly i don’t expect any of my character-centric stuff to take off, so i was pleasantly surprised at how it performed!

8. What was your favorite fic you wrote in 2023?

most probably comforter, more specifically the neslin chapter. i’ve had this super angsty, acosf divergence multichaptered neslin idea in my head for a while now, but i suck at long term fic planning and like most people i want to jump right into writing the interesting parts of it, so the neslin chapter was a scene from that idea and i felt so happy writing it and getting into the mindsets of nesta and tamlin in that au.

9. What was your favorite fic that somebody else wrote in 2023?

definitely rosemary by @bittermuire (thank god for this survey because in my effort to link the fic i realized ITS BEEN UPDATED!!! and as i read through it, i became even more convinced this was 100% my most favorite fic of 2023 💚) honestly, anything muire writes has me immediately hooked, but its the characterizations of the archeron sisters in particular that are so special to me. especially in rosemary. it also happens to be an october/fall fic, which are bonuses and pluses as far as im concerned. if you love the archeron sisters, give rosemary a read. if you need more convincing, allow me to provide one of my favorite quotes from the fic—

Lucien Vanserra watched her leave, his heart threatening to give out, and cursed himself a thousand times. Then another thousand times. Then, drowning in table salt, dreaming of her hair, thinking of getting himself a few sessions of therapy, he decided he would not, could not possibly, let her go. / rosemary (ch.1) by iriy @ ao3

honorable mention to plus 4 by firenaition @ ao3, because this is a fic i read at least once every month, a fic that i've shown and begged my rl siblings to read and quite possibly my favorite azulaang/atla fic of all time

10. Tag your friends to have them do this year-end fic review as well!!

if you haven’t done it already and you want to, do it! and tag me too, i love reading these!

#dash games

[here-2suffer]

❌😬🎯🤲

Hi AL! How's your day going?

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

Uh, slow burns I think? Idk I'm not the greatest at writing so probably a lot lol

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

I'd be scared if my parents happened to find my abandoned story, I wrote a some notes on it and the ending I planned for it to have. If they find that, they're going to be very concerned and I just don't want to deal with that-

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

No. Well actually, you probably guessed it right a few times and I just can't remember, but no one else made any guesses on what would happen next.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Hmm, I've already finished chapter 3, so that isn't a wip anymore. Here's something from chapter 4!

"Oh... bad dream." Lucien quirks up an eyebrow. "Oh, I thought you had a good sleep?"

"I did!... Mostly." You huff and cross your arms.

"Yeah, I'm sure you did." Lucien replies sarcastically and Solaris jabs him in the side with his elbow.

Just a morning with our lovely trio ✨️

#beloved moot #kattramen #beloved bestie #heyyyy #asks #djdjsjsbsibsjs

[vexillumalbum]

Cześć! Fellow polish person here! I thought maybe you could do some hcs on victor, Gavin and shaw (they're my faves) having a dream about mc dying or leaving them and they wake up and she comforts them or maybe they don't tell her about the dream and just... watch her from afar to know she's fine. something short but angsty with comfort. you know! anyway, dziękuję i miłego dnia!

Oh hello, fellow polish person! Miło mi cię tu widzieć! (tran.: Nice seeing you here!) I hope you’re alright! Dziękuję za wiadomość i miłego dnia! (tran.: Thank you for your message and have a nice day!)

Note: I wrote this also for Lucien and Kiro but I wasn’t sure if I should publish it so let me know if you would like to see something like this for them. (Lucien’s angst is delicious, I tell you that)

I tried to keep it short as you requested :) 

A little angst and comfort below, hope you’ll like it

Gavin

Screams. High-pitched, terrifying wails chilled the blood in his veins. It didn't bother him that they were so frequent or that they were so loud - the number of missions on which he heard such cries probably exceeded the amount of instant ramens he had eaten in his whole life - but that he knew exactly who the screams belonged to. You.

There were so many dark corridors and he didn’t knew which one led to you. And every time he thought he was taking the right direction, he suddenly reached the end of the corridor, his body hitting a brutal concrete wall. 

“(Y/N)?! (Y/N), where are you?!” He was running in circles as with each passing moment your cries were getting more and more horrifying.

Gavin couldn’t take it, he couldn’t bear a thought of you getting hurt while he was near and he wasn’t able to help you any way. He promised he would protect you. He—

“Gavin!” One of your screams sounded like his name and he fell to his knees, tired and distraught, his face in his hands as he was begging the heavens to let you be save. 

“Take me, not her, please, take me, not her!” He was a mumbling mess.

“Gavin!”

Gentle hands were cradling his face and his first instinct was to fight the gesture but then, in his haziness, he recognized the scent of your floral shampoo and let himself sink into the delicate touch. He immediately hooked his arms around your figure and hugged tightly to his broad chest.

He was soaked in sweat, his pajamas was sticking unpleasantly to his body.

“You’re alright, Gavin. It was just a dream.” Your soothing voice was what ultimately pulled him out of slumber. 

“You,” he croaked. “Are you alright?” 

“Of course I am, silly. It was a dream. We’re both in our bedroom and we’re both safe.” You hugged him back, feeling his heartbeat even through his shirt. By slowly stroking his back you managed to calm him down a little.

“Good.” He looked over to the window where the sky was still dark. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up in the middle of the night.”

When you assured him it’s fine and asked him if maybe he would like to tell you about his nightmare he only quickly denied before resting his head on your shoulder. Unconsciously, his lips found your neck enabling him to feel your pulse and body heat. Indicating you were alive and well.

You anew fell asleep safely tucked in his arms with Gavin watching you breathe evenly and making sure you were still there with him. If you as much as stirred in your sleep, he would hug you a little tighter - he did it not only to comfort you, but also to comfort himself.

Victor

The metallic, slightly salty smell entered Victor's nostrils, and he immediately looked up from his laptop, frowning strongly. He knew that smell perfectly well. 

The trouble he had felt in the last few hours of checking reports in his home office was gone, and the man felt anxious instead.

“(Y/N)?” He called out but only silence answered him.

Victor called your name a few more times, quickly making his way to the living room. Each time he got no answer, which only reinforced his uneasiness. And when he got to the kitchen, his eyes went wide and his strong rapid heartbeat was all he could hear.

Blood. There was blood everywhere - on the marble floor, the black cabinets, stone countertops, on the window and even the stove. Everywhere. 

“(Y/N)?!” He was in a panic now, trying to maneuver around the room so as not to step into the red substance, looking for you. But you were nowhere to be seen. You... or your body. 

Even so, something told him it was your blood that was spilled around the kitchen. The pit in his stomach grew and grew and he was slowly losing his mind, only the worst images flooding his imagination, and then he saw a it. A large kitchen knife laying on the floor. A knife he knew all too well. 

Bzzt bzzt bzzt

It was a dream. 

Victor looked around the room, hoping to see you lying next to him under the blanket, but when he saw an empty bed instead, a familiar panic began to reign in his stomach. You never woke up before him, so where were you?

It took him about three times less than usual to walk from the bedroom to the kitchen, but he wasn't running yet. He knew those horrible scenes from a moment before were nothing but a nightmare, so he avoided rapidly searching the apartment for you. 

Only when he did not find you in the kitchen or in the living room, and no noises could be heard from the bathroom, he began to panic. 

“Victor?” The entrance door opened revealing your confused figure balancing a grocery bag in your hands. Seconds later you were enveloped in a tight hug, that knocked the air out of you. “I’m happy to see you too. Something happened?”

But he didn’t reply. Victor only held you tighter squishing the bread you had bought minutes before. The warmth he felt radiating from you was comforting him and reassuring that it was not another dream. 

“Vic, you’re squishing me.” 

“Don’t ever do it again.”

“Do what?”

Again, he didn’t answer. 

This morning you experienced the little-known side of Mr. CEO. He did not leave your step, you ate breakfast shoulder to shoulder, and when you got to work he was waiting in the car until you safely entered the building.

You asked him about the reason for his behavior several times, but all he said was "You're imagining things.", so after a few tries you abandoned the topic. Victor, however, did not experience inner peace until the next evening when you were lying in his arms safe and sound.

Shaw

It was another fight between the two of you. He didn't remember what had happened, but probably something stupid as usual. Maybe he had been a little late to his date with you again, or maybe he missed a few consecutive text messages from you.

He tried to excuse himself that he was busy and that his studies were taking up a lot of his time. But you were having none of that.

“Stop being such a child, Shaw!” You spatted as you were angrily walking back and forth in his apartment. 

“I’m a child? Babe, I think you’re closer to being one than me, right now.” He laughed but you weren’t in a mood for jokes and banter. Normally it would take a few ‘i’m sorry’s, a couple of jests and a hug for you to forgive him however this time you didn’t even want to look at him. 

“I’m serious, Shaw. All you ever do is fuck up. You’re never on time, you ignore my texts, do you even know I’m your girlfriend?!”

“Of course I—“

“I wish you were more like your brother.” Your words pierced a hole through Shaw’s heart and he stood there frozen as you were angrily glaring at him. 

“You don’t mean that.” His voice was weak, quiet, but you heard him anyway. 

“I do.” Was your last words before you took your belongings and strutted out of his apartment leaving him completely speechless. You didn’t say goodbye, but he somehow knew it was the last time he would ever see you. 

Shaw took the first thing his hands found and threw it against the wall. 

Before the empty glass shattered against the brickwork, however, Shaw jumped up from the bed panting abruptly. He woke up extremely upset and tried to ignore the thin layer of sweat that covered his body.

“Fuck.” The man muttered before picking up his phone and dialing your number. He wasn’t even surprised he knew the combination by heart at this point.

“Hello, Shaw!” Your melodious voice made his stomach flip. He was in too deep. 

“Would you ever leave me?” Wow, smooth

“What?” Your confusion could be clearly heard but he really didn’t care to elaborate.

“Do you think I’m a child?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand your questions.” He groaned as his back fell against the pillows. “Did something happen?” You sounded worried, and at that moment he began to regret calling you. 

He ran a hand over his lavender curls and, suppressing a sigh, said "Forget it.”

“But—“

“What time do you finish work today? I’ll pick you up.”

“At five, I guess.”

“Alright. See ya.”

He threw the phone on the other side of the mattress, internally cursing his subconsciousness. 

Maybe today he shouldn’t be late. Oh, and he would buy you something. Flowers? Yeah, flowers sounded good. And he’d heard they had opened new hotpot place. This evening you two should definitely check it out. And then maybe stargazing. Or he would play you something on his guitar… 

Stupid subconsciousness

____________________________________________________

thank you so much for reading!

if you want to read more of my works they are here

#mlqc #mlqc shaw #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mr love queen's choice #mr. love queen's choice #mr love game

[mlqcconfessions]

MLQC Headcanons - Quarantine with the 4 boys

Warning: Minor plot spoilers for main story; suggestive? not really?

Because a lot of people have been worrying over current situations, I hope this can perhaps lessen your burdens. Enjoy!

Victor

Your entire apartment complex is set as a shelter-in-place

Even though you’re so healthy, you can’t go outside

So after work, he orders suggests you stay at his house for the time being

You happily take the offer (pudding all day, every day!)

You actually don’t have your stuff with you (and can’t go back to your now-blocked off apartment)

The two of you arrive home to CONVENIENTLY placed clothes (with your size), toothbrush sets, and enough groceries for 4

Victor avoids your eyes

So this is why Goldman kept complaining about how he’s a butler now

He tells you to take a bath first while he prepares dinner

You suggest taking one together (with the look to accompany your words)

He pauses for a second, nearly drops the knife, before responding

“....dummy.... then we’ll have no time to cook ALL of this food to satisfy that never-ending stomach of yours”

Really? Mr. Victor “Time Controller” Li saying there’ll be no time?

You roll your eyes before heading to the bathroom (fortunately, you didn’t catch Victor’s cheeks starting to go pink)

After dinner, you two watch movies together

Rock, paper, scissors; winner gets to pick (he stops time right after you pull out paper; he pulls out rock)

You decide to put on a black and white film you’ve never heard of before

“You’re going to fall asleep, MC”

“Am not!”

You’re out within the first 20 minutes (your head is lying against his shoulders)

“This dummy...what am I going to do with you?”

Contrary to his words, his tone is delicate and he smiles warmly, picking you up to let you sleep in the bed

Of course, he will too

Kiro

Savin cancelled all his schedules so as to prevent him from going outside

Nothing is boring with this energetic ball of sunshine

Even quarantine

He's actually excited for this (an excuse to stay up all night with you)

It’s not a sleepover, Kiro

Buys 3 bags full of snacks and food before going to his house

"We're gonna need ALL of this if we want to survive, MC!"

Treats the entire process as a zombie apocalypse

You're wearing matching pajamas that he specifically made Savin order (sorry Savin)

Actually brought walkie-talkies so you can talk to each other in different rooms (his house is HUGE)

You call him Agent Key, he calls you Agent Chips

Insists you end your sentences with “Over.” (whines if you don’t)

He waits by the door for you to walk by, ambushing you with kisses all over

You grab a nearby pillow to playfully nudge his chest

Proves useless because he just hugs you even tighter, as if he's trying so hard to keep you from leaving

You notice the slight change in his actions, and pull down his collar to kiss his nose

He’s definitely caught off guard as he can feel his cheeks starting to burn

You say nothing and simply bury your head in his arms

You guide him to the bed because he NEEDS reassurance that you’ll be with him forever

You answer by being the big spoon this time around (he loves it more when you stroke his hair)

"We're gonna get through this together, alright?"

Lucien

He knew the apartment complex would be quarantined sometime soon

Invites you over to his place, instead

Actually supplied to the MAX (this man just knows)

Recent news has made you frustrated and worried (of course, he realized this too How could he not)

He prepares you chamomile tea to ease your anxiety (you love the way he elegantly brews and he knows that)

He uses the china set the two of you bought together (only takes it out of the case when he serves you)

His house just has that scent

Infused with lavender; it’s enough to make your nerves calm down by a ton

You take a sip of the tea and lean back on the couch, completely at peace

After brewing his own cup, he sits next to you

Does a quick briefing on how the situation might change in the future

“No matter what happens, I’m always your next-door neighbor”

You set your cup down and lay your head on his shoulders

It gives you a sense of security in a world where danger is all around

The smell of Lucien coaxes you to a wonderful sleep

He looks at you with multiple emotions in his soft eyes, all pointing to the same thought

“.....am I enough for her?”

Is it too selfish of him to want her by his side? Forever?

He looks down at his teacup, fully decorated with butterflies painted with all colors of the rainbow

Was this cup always this beautiful?

You lightly mumble some words in your slumber, much to his delight (he always did enjoy listening to your “dream language”)

“I love you, Lucien” 

He goes wide-eyed before closing his eyes and matching his breathing to yours

“I love you, too”

Gavin

He was dropping you off at your apartment after work ended

There was a curfew set in your town, so he couldn’t go home on Sparky (probably pertains to “flying” home, too)

Despite your worries, he opens your window to fly off

You grab his arms (he’s surprised, but definitely happy about it)

“You can stay over at my place!” 

BIRDCOP IS CONFLICTED

Would you have done the same to your next-door neighbor if he asked??

A strong gust of wind blows into your open window (Gavin is brought back to his senses as you struggle to close it)

Tightly shutting your window, he accepts (he’ll have to talk to you about being too trusting later)

You bring him the clothes he left behind last time (you may have worn it once or thrice but you washed it, of course)

Tonight’s dinner will have to be instant ramen (you forgot to buy groceries; it was sudden, after all)

He notices you stocked up on his favorite types, and blushes slightly

You don’t understand what’s so embarrassing about instant ramen

It starts heavily pouring as the two of you clean up after dinner

You take a shower first while he sets up the bed (his ears are fully perked, happily listening to your cute little humming)

When he’s done with his shower, you two cuddle close on the bed, watching the news on TV (he smells like you, and it’s great)

You must’ve shown signs of worry, because he turns off the TV and pulls you into his arms, chin resting on your head

Words can’t explain how comforting it is right now. How SAFE you feel.

The two of you doze off into a deep slumber in each other’s embrace, surrounded by the harmony of heavy rain softened by an opposing wind 

He knows you sleep better when it’s quiet

This took longer than expected but so WORTH IT

AHHHHH the FLUFFF

I’ve poured my heart and soul into this post, hope I was able to stay in character!

Whose imagines did you enjoy the most? If I had to choose, I would choose Lucien’s (sorry Birdcop, but I actually felt emotional when I wrote Lucien’s)

Stay safe and healthy, everybody! We can get through this!

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin #mlqc lucien #mlqc kiro #mlqc imagine #mlqc imagines #mlqc headcanon #mlqc headcanons #mlqc fanfiction #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fluff #victor #gavin #lucien #cookies #li zeyan #bai qi #xu mo #zhou qilou #quarantine #stay safe everybody

[writing-fool]

mlqc | special kind of sadness

I’ve been having strange dreams lately. Maybe it’s because of the quarantine, or maybe because of my messed up sleep schedule. I don’t actually have severe nightmares, but somehow an idea for Victor + nightmares came up. It was going to be very short, so I included other types of comforting scenarios. Ahh...besides that, you might have noticed my url is writing-fool, right? It’s actually based off of a Korean song called Swimming Fool. But I think it fits with MLQC too, what with Lucien calling us ‘his little fool’ sometimes~ What a happy coincidence...

Love,

R.

Warning(s): TW! Lucien’s scenario includes a panic attack. 

Victor

You’re all about showing the world that you’re a grown woman with big girl pants on. You’re especially keen on proving to Victor that you can handle yourself, thank you very much. Even though he’s supposed to be your soft, loving boyfriend, he seems to grow stricter the longer you’re together.

“Really? You’re not capable of being a producer if you can’t even get these reports done.” Ouch. Your life doesn’t seem to be getting easier anytime soon.

So...you chalk it up as a grave, grave moment of weakness when you instinctively call his number at three in the morning, after waking up in a cold sweat. By the second ring, you regret your rash decision. What if he’s asleep? What if he thinks I’m some kind of weak child?

By the third, he answers.

“What. Why are you still awake?” His voice sounds as strict as ever. ‘Why are you still awake?’ is a question you would’ve asked if you were in a clearer mindset. Alas, this situation allows little clarity.

You decide against hanging up. I’m bothering him already, might as well apologise. “I-I must’ve misdialled. Sorry to bother you,” you mumble. You hate how your hoarse voice and ragged breaths betray the sobs that have barely subsided.

“...I’m coming over,” is all Victor says before abruptly hanging up.

It’s a twenty minute drive from his luxurious penthouse to your apartment, but you know he’ll make it in fifteen. Running to the bathroom, you try to fix your appearance to make you look more like a successful producer, and less like a woman gone mad. But while your hair can be combed down and your tears can be wiped away, nothing works against your bloodshot eyes, shaking hands and pale complexion.

The doorbell rings, and you’re in full panic mode. You really don’t want him to see you like this. But without him, you’re probably not sleeping tonight. Also, he’s here already. Wiping your sweaty palms on your pyjama pants one last time, you open the front door.

Even when he has his sleeves rolled up, shirt partly unbuttoned and hair mussed from running his hands through it, Victor is handsome. But today, you can’t bare to look at him. Your apartment floor suddenly seems incredibly interesting.

A small gesture encourages his entrance. The door is barely closed again, and he’s already got his arms wrapped around you, your face pressed against his chest. The warmth of his hug and his rapidly beating heart open the floodgates again, and while your boyfriend strokes your hair, you sob your fears out on his black dress shirt.

Later, when you’re both huddled in your queen-sized bed, he asks you why you didn’t tell him about the nightmare right away. “I thought you’d think I’m pathetic or something. You’re always so strict.” You look up at him, mouth formed into a small pout.

For a moment, he’s dumbfounded. Maybe he never considered the idea? Victor hesitates, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he sighs, “I’ll be more considerate from now on.”

And as Victor rubs your shoulder, legs intertwined with yours, you doze off under the cloudy night sky. But not before hearing his sweet whispers. “Lean on me more, next time. I’ll always be by your side.”

Lucien (TW: panic attack, minor mentions of death)

Disclaimer: I know this could be taken wrongly. I have no intention to romanticise mental illness. It isn’t something that makes you broken, nor is it a ‘fun’ or ‘special’ thing. The story is partially taken from my experience, so I know how this feels. I wrote this as a way to bring awareness in a light manner, and to show that sometimes, panic attacks can be alleviated with someone around. I hope it brings comfort to those who wish they had someone in moments like these.

Listening to Lucien’s lectures tends to transport you back to the time when you were still a university student. Ah, it is a nostalgic feeling. A part of you misses being in school; going out with friends, listening to the teachers drone on about various subjects, eating in the school’s cafeteria.

But if there’s one thing you don’t miss, it’s the immeasurable amounts of stress. So why is that the thing I’m reliving right now?

As a young adult, you struggled with anxiety and spontaneous panic attacks, rendering you vulnerable to a work overload. You’d think it’d gotten better, especially since you have to deal with a lot of projects as a head producer nowadays. However, it seems as though old habits do die hard...This week has been particularly taxing—emotionally, what with your father’s death anniversary, and mentally; an important and popular show just got compromised by one of the actors’ companies. All that, and the prospect of an even tighter schedule during Christmas season has sent you into a full-blown panic attack. 

Your initial plan was to just...ride this one out. That’s what you always did as a child. In an hour or two, your hands will stop cramping, your tears will stop falling, your breathing will return to normal, right? But it seems fate, and Lucien, disagree. I forgot I gave him the key to my apartment.

Lucien senses something is wrong when you don’t come out to greet him by the door. 

“My love? Are you alright?” he yells out. Hearing little besides your irregular breathing, he kicks his shoes off, speeding towards the living area. You’re sat on the white sofa, knees to your chest, shoulders heaving and thick tears streaming down your face. 

Lucien’s brows furrow in deep concern as he kneels down by your form. Even though he’s right in front of you, your eyes do not meet his. You’ve gone too deep in your own shell to even be able to acknowledge his presence. A tentative hand removes one of yours from its tight grasp on your other arm, and Lucien lets out a sigh of relief as he feels your hand clutch his. He takes it as a sign to lift you fully into his arms, and takes a seat on the sofa.

“Breathe. In,” he mimicks a deep inhale, “and out.” Lucien blows out, repeating the motion a couple more times. He rubs your back and your hands, constantly alternating between helping you breathe and gently uttering soothing phrases. 

“Easy, I’m here with you. Do you feel my heartbeat?” When your hands have finally relaxed out of their cramped up form, he presses one of them against his chest. The slow, rhythmic thumping grounds you. Lucien. A stiff nod from you makes a soft, wry smile appear on his face. “Good girl. You’re getting there, my dear. Just stay with me, here. You’re doing great.”

You don’t know how much longer you stay like that. All you know is that he stays with you through the entire attack. Hours later, you two are having a steaming cup of tea at the dinner table. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t want you to worry,” you mutter sheepishly.

“Don’t be ashamed of yourself,” Lucien’s violet eyes bore deep into yours, “Besides, how could I not worry when someone so dear is having a hard time?”

You shrug, a defeated look on your face. Your fingers fidget with the wood of the dinner table, until Lucien swiftly takes your hand in his again. 

He sighs. “Take tomorrow off. I’ll take care of you.” Even though his tone is soft, Lucien leaves no space for argument. You know you should agree. There’s no way you could function properly if you were to go to work tomorrow.

“...Thank you.”

Lucien brings your hand to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses on your knuckles. “No thanks needed. You can be greedier with me.”

Gavin

There’s perhaps no person in the world who enjoys rejection. Sure, there may be those who bounce back quickly, those who see rejection as a new opportunity. But rejection, failure in itself, doesn’t evoke positive feelings. 

As the producer of Miracle Finder, you’ve gotten used to rejection; it was hard to get the show back on track during the first year or so. Maybe you were arrogant, thinking it’d get better, or less painful, the more often you got rejected. 

Things did get better, and last week you were even offered a deal with Loveland TV for a second weekly show. The company had seen the success Miracle Finder had, and had offered you the chance to come up with something wholly original. Something...you. That night, a mere week ago, you took the girls out for dinner and drinks. You were on cloud nine that day. In hindsight, maybe it was karma. Maybe I jinxed it. Cheered too soon, and all that. 

This morning, you got a devastating e-mail that stated, in polite (but somehow still rude) terms, that your new show would not be broadcasted. The relaxed mood at the office rapidly turned somber once you mentioned the unfortunate decision. Your employees decided to give you some space afterwards. Not being able to stand the sadness, and feeling somewhat bad for them, you sent everyone, yes, including Anna, home early.

By three p.m., you’re the only one left at the office. You sit at your desk, head in your hands. I know it isn’t the end of the world...but right now, it almost feels like it is. With a deep sigh, you push yourself up, heading to the small kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. Maybe you’ll have a biscuit too. Anything to cheer yourself up. 

Your mind automatically goes to Gavin, and without thinking it over too much, you dial his number. After a couple of rings, your call goes to voicemail. Stupid. He’s probably working. I’ll just leave a message.

“Hey babe, it’s me. I-uh, the thing I mentioned last week? The new show deal with Loveland TV? Yeah, that’s not happening,” your voice cracks halfway through the last sentence as you try to push down the disappointment that bleeds through, “I’m staying late today. Need some time to-to process things. I’ll be fine. Love you, hope you’re safe.” 

Time passes agonisingly slowly, so slowly you might as well think Victor’s behind it, while you dive into a mountain of work. It distracts you from today’s events. but the lingering sadness is still present in the back of your mind. 

Around eight, you start cleaning up your desk, shutting down your computer and gathering the papers. A knock on the window catches your attention as you’re about to head out. You turn around, noticing a tall figure on the balcony outside. Gavin! You hastily run back, opening the sliding door for Gavin to enter.

“Hi,” That’s the most awkward thing you could say. “I didn’t know you would come. Did you hear my message? You really didn’t have to...” you trail off when Gavin wordlessly opens his arms to you. His golden eyes look anywhere but you, and a slight blush is visible in the dark room, only illuminated by the bright lights outside. 

You gingerly step into his arms at first, clutching the back of his signature denim jacket tighter as time goes on. A couple of stray tears that you’re not able to hold back create wet splotches on his shirt. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, your voice muffled by the soft fabric.

“No biggie. Are you feeling alright?” he asks you. A non-committal shrug is all you respond with. “I know it was a big project for you.”

“Yeah, I don’t really know what to do now.” 

Gavin bends down a little, kissing the crown of your head. “You move on, and you don’t give up.”

You fall into comfortable silence. Gavin’s thumb rubs up and down your waist, soothing you. “...Have you ever been rejected?” you suddenly ask him.

Gavin chuckles. “Sure I have. I got rejected by my very first love.”

You raise your head to look up at him. Gavin sees his own reflection in your large, teary eyes, and smiles. “And what happened then?” you ask, your voice lightly tinged with jealousy. Who was his first love?

“Well, she’s in my arms now, isn’t she?” Even though he’s embarrassed to say the words, Gavin forces himself to look at you. At those eyes that shine with love for the world, for him. 

Bonus:

“Come on, I’ll take you home.” you pull out of the embrace to get your coat by the coat hanger, opening the door to head out again, like a normal person.

“How? You didn’t come here by bike, did you?”

Gavin’s already facing the window again, but he turns back with a smirk, holding his hand out to you. “I never said we were going by bike.”

“Gavin, no, babe, no, no, nonononononono—Aah!!” Your protests are cut short as Gavin swoops you into his arms bridal style and flies off. The wind rushes past your ears, almost making you miss Gavin’s gleeful laugh. “Gavin! I didn’t lock the doors!”

Kiro

On many occasions, you’re envious of Kiro’s Evol. But even without his Evol, Kiro is so bubbly and kind, you can’t help but like him. You sincerely wish you had that ability. And I know I’m supposed to make my own wishes come true, but I can only do so much to make people like me. I’m not going to bend over backwards and become a pushover just to be liked.

Still, it hurts when people are purposely mean to you. Especially during high school reunions. You were by no means a popular kid growing up...but you didn’t think that some people would still be stuck in a high school mentality. You held your own during the reunion, ignoring the backhanded compliments and blatantly condescending insults in favour of catching up with your old friends. Yet, all you can think of on the drive home are the negative comments.

“Oh, you still can’t drink alcohol? Seems like ‘someone’ hasn’t grown up yet!”

“You’re the producer of Miracle Finder? I hate that show, it’s so unrealistic.”

“Isn’t that a kids’ show?”

“My, you look adorable! My daughter also likes to wear those types of clothes, you know, to go play at the park.”

I can’t believe I missed game night with Kiro for this. With a terrible mood, you shuffle into the house. Kiro’s on the sofa playing A Chinese Ghost Story, a bag of chips on the coffee table in front of him. He turns to greet you with a smile, but it quickly falls after seeing your somber expression. 

“Welcome home Miss Ch—eh? What’s wrong?” Kiro takes his headphones off to stand up in front of you. His hands instinctively move to your waist to pull you close.

“How was the gathering?” he asks carefully. His eyes are big, just like a puppy’s. Had you felt better, you would’ve commented on his cute appearance. 

It’s as if that question flips a switch. “It was horrible!” you sniffle.

“Wha—Miss Chips!” Kiro grows panicked at your sniffles and sobs, and roughly pulls you to his chest. You retaliate by hugging him tightly, crying all your frustrations out on his shoulder.

Somehow, you move into a cuddling position on the living room sofa. You straddle his slender legs and his arms are wrapped around your torso, rubbing comforting circles on your back. Pulling away from his embrace, you start ranting about the terrible evening.

“...and I don’t even know why I’m this upset! It’s so frustrating. I’ve worked so hard to become who I am today, and the moment someone says something to me, I just break down. Maybe I am a child,” you look up at Kiro, eyes wide and brimming with tears, “Kiro, am I a child to you?”

Kiro chuckles. “Well, Miss Chips...sometimes you can be childish,” you jut your lip out in a pout, “b-but I’m childish too! And there’s nothing wrong with that. Some people want to grow up too fast, so they drink alcohol and dress up in dark colours and stiff fabrics to feel properly imprisoned in the ‘harsh adult world’. But most of us could be happier if we just...let our inner child out.”

He cups your cheek. “Never be ashamed of being childish, Miss Chips. It doesn’t make you a child,” a mischievous grin appears on Kiro’s youthful face, “Besides, I wouldn’t do this if I thought of you as a child!” 

With the hand on your cheek, Kiro draws your face closer to his. Your lips meet in a swift kiss that takes you by surprise. He swallows the startled gasp that escapes your mouth, retaliating by slowly swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You can feel him smile into the kiss as you lean into it, closing your eyes. Your tears are long forgotten as you tangle your hands in Kiro’s blond locks. Slowly, you part your lips, allowing Kiro’s tongue to slip into your mouth. The teasing flicks of his tongue make you go weak, and he chuckles when your grip on his hair loosens. 

Kiro notices you’re growing light-headed, so he gives you time to regain your breath while he peppers little kisses on the corners of your mouth and on your swollen lips. You kissing demon. 

His satisfied hum is disrupted by a vicious punch to the chest. “Ah! Miss Chips, why would you hit me?” It’s Kiro’s time to pout now.

“Who told you to do that?! You’re so sly, it’s unfair!” you scold him, cheeks flushed a bright red.

“Yes, yes,” he pets your head, “but it helped, right? You’re not upset anymore, right?”

Your face scrunches up. “I guess not...I’m still mad at you for surprising me like that,” Kiro giggles, “But thanks.” His smile is contagious, and soon you’re both in a giggling fit.

When the giggles have subsided, Kiro pushes you back into his chest. As he snuggles into your shoulder, he whispers in your ear. “Don’t worry. Every time you feel sad, I’ll be there to cheer you up.”

I’m not saying dark clothes are bad! I have a black wardrobe myself...but we all need to remember that we don’t need to be so hard on ourselves sometimes. 

For some reason I’ve never properly depicted kissing like that in my writing. Ehhh, forgive me if it’s bad. Little note...do you guys know what Chinese drama ‘A Chinese Ghost Story’ is featured in?

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #mlqc fanfic #mlqc imagine #mlqc kiro #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin #mlqc scenarios #mr love #love and producer #evol x love #li zeyan #victor lee #gavin bai #bai qi #xu mo #lucien xu #zhou qilou #kiro zhou #mlqc x reader #mlqc lucien x reader #mlqc victor x reader #mlqc kiro x reader #mlqc gavin x reader

[tartagilicious]

[CN] spring morning agreement (lucien)

while getting some translation practice in for the upcoming qixi event, I also managed to stumble upon what is now probably one of my favourite lucien dates uwu. domestic lucien and a canon relationship gives me so many butterflies. it’s also probably obvious that I took a little bit of inspiration from cheri for the format of this, but let’s be honest, she’s basically the standard haha

this date contains spoilers for a date not released in English servers!

-------

In the blink of an eye, I arrived at the last two days of the orphanage spring camp. Before we left, we were going to hold a celebration party. The dean took the children early in the morning to buy the things needed for the party, and probably won’t be back until late.

Before Lucien woke up, I hurriedly dragged out the cardboard box hidden behind the sundries, preparing to quietly construct my secret plan. But, just as I cut the box open, I heard the sound of footsteps coming from the bedroom and looked up nervously.

Lucien: Good morning.

Really…

Lucien held a cup of hot tea and leaned on the doorframe and smiled at me. The dark knitted jacket he wore was half open, revealing the white cloth of the shirt beneath. The morning light came in from outside the window, sprinkling a layer of light gold on the types of his hair that also enveloped his whole person in the thin sun.

Probably because my expression was a little hesitant after unintentionally breaking a secret, he faintly guessed something.

Lucien: Am I not supposed to be here?

I quickly shook my head to deny, orderly packing up the items of the box and holding it in my arms.

MC: It’s really nothing…

Lucien: This is a dream catcher?

MC: ...I talked to Xiaohua and Xiaodu, and they said brother Lucien had a nightmare when he fell asleep on the sofa the other day. That you must have dreamed of a big monster that is fierce and bad.

MC: I promised them that I would catch the big monster in brother Lucien’s dreams, so he would never have nightmares again.

I imitated the children’s tones and picked up the dream catcher, shaking it in the air.

MC: Just use this~

Lucien showed a thoughtful expression, seeming to be thinking about what to do. After a while, the line of his lips slightly curled up and his face became stunned.

Lucien: It would be useful during the nap before.

He walked slowly over to me, bending down and placing a hand lightly on my head.

Lucien: It seems you’ll have to work hard to catch the big monster in my dreams for me, then?

--

The dream catchers were soon covering the entire cabin thanks to us. The white feathers show a fluffy touch under the sunlight. It seemed to paint the whole house as a pure white dreamland.

MC: That’s it~

Lucien glanced around the living room, then lowered his eyes to look at me.

Lucien: Since you made these, will I see you in my dream tonight?

Lucien: If you don’t come and catch the monster, i’m going to tell Xiaohua and Xiaodu.

He was so serious that I couldn’t help but laugh.

MC: Professor Lucien, you are a scientific researcher, shouldn’t you teach children that dreams are a routine way for the brain to process information?

Lucien: I think that the rational way of thinking does not conflict with pure imagination, especially for children

MC: Well, Professor Lucien is right!

I quickly trot up to him and stretch out my right hand, putting a small finger in front of his chest.

MC: Ok, make a promise with me and I will find you in your dream on time.

Lucien’s finger naturally hooked with mine, but, with his other hand around my forearm, he dragged me a few steps closer to him.

Lucien: Since the dean and the children are not here, does that mean you belong to me today?

He lowered his voice, there was a hint of provocation in his words. I looked into his smiling eyes in a dazed manner, not yet sure what his idea was.

Lucien: Do you remember we have unfinished work?

MC: The puzzles?

When coming here, I had bought a lot of gadgets and gifts for the children to pass the time. Remote control cars, building blocks, and rubik’s cubes were all very popular. Only a blank puzzle was left behind.

When Lucien and I were free, we would take out time to put together the puzzle.

Lucien: Did you not say that after we finish the puzzle, we would draw something on it?

MC: Well, I haven’t thought of what we should draw yet.

Lucien paused, gripping my hand.

Lucien: I thought about it.

He glanced at the dreamcatchers that were swaying slightly in an open breeze.

Lucien: Let’s draw a dream. One of the most beautiful dreams.

He spoke slowly, not sharing the charming and fantastic scene he was thinking of which made me curious for a while.

MC: Can dreams be drawn?

Lucien: Can’t they?

Lucien: Didn’t you tell me the other day, that you dreamt of strawberries sitting in a small wooden boat singing? Such a dream is more interesting than even the many paintings I've seen.

Thinking of the wonderful and playful dream I had two days ago, I was suddenly intrigued.

MC: Ok, let’s draw a dream. I’ll look for something to use!

Lucien responded briefly and walked into the next room. After several searches, from the centre of the coffee table to between the sofa cushions, I found a set of pens the children normally use.

MC: Lucien, are you going to bring the puzzle to the dining table?

I yelled in Lucien’s direction, and he laughed softly from inside [the other room]

Lucien: Bring the utensils here. The living room is very cold, so we have to beware of getting sick.

MC: Should i turn on the heater?

This time, Lucien did not respond to me. I assumed he didn’t hear it, so I walked over quickly. As soon as I pushed open the half closed door to the bedroom, a gust of warm wind blew overhead. The sunlight outside of the window reflected the branches and leaves of the trees, casting mottled shadows on the walls and bookcases.

Lucien sat on the bed. He smiled at me and patted the position opposite to him.

Lucien: Come on. If you think about it, it is best to dream in bed.

The light and shadow of light and shade fell in his eyes, scattering among the fascinating depth. I kicked off my slippers and climbed onto the bed. Laughing and leaning close to him, I looked straight into his eyes.

MC: Is drawing a dream the same thing as having a dream?

In the overlapping atmospheres, I recognised a faint halo in his eyes. There was a smile in them. It is warmer and more beautiful than the scenery of March.

Lucien: But, if you don’t have a dream originally, how can you draw it?

As he spoke, he whispered thoughtfully. Across the distance of our breaths, I can hear every sentence clearly.

Lucien: I don’t know if I have appeared in your recent dreams… or, if it is your dream, would it be a sweet one?

A delicate tenderness is stitched onto his slightly provoking ending, which is clearly an inquiry meant to be answered. I subconsciously hummed and shook my head quickly.

MC: The answer to that question… is a secret!

MC: You need to exchange a secret with me before I tell you.

Lucien showed an interested look and slightly distanced himself from me to meet my eye. 

Lucien: In this case, don’t you suffer a lot?

Lucien: But, as long as you ask, I will answer. What do you want?

I hesitated, but i can’t help but ask softly,

MC: When we were at sea, you didn’t put the note you wrote into the glass bottle, did you?

That was a game for the children. The dean bought a dozen glass bottles and encouraged the children to write anything they wanted on a slip of paper. After that, they would put it in the bottle and throw it into the ocean.

Whether it is a wish or a voice, as long as the sea hears it, she will give them the most sincere blessing.

Lucien and I were also dragged by children to participate. But, I secretly saw the what Lucien threw into the ocean was only an empty bottle. I could only guess that he didn’t put the note he wrote into it.

Lucien: Do you want to know what I wrote?

Lucien tilted his head with interest, one hand supporting his chin. His eyes were pure when he looked at me.

Lucien: Are you sure? If you are, let’s exchange secrets

MC: Hm, sure!

I nodded expectantly, and Lucien immediately took out a folded note from the pocket of his coat and folded it open a few times. It was now in front of me.

The english writing was a bit sloppy, and i stared at it for several seconds before recognising the entire sentence.

“Extinguish my eyes, and I can still see you.” [this line is a reference to this poem! ]

I raised my head and met Lucien’s gaze that was already on me. It’s like his eyes cover the entire sky at sunrise, climbing up the mountains little by little until with a slightly cold brilliance, the whole sky is open.

He said nothing, but in this silence, I heard every word that he didn’t say.

MC: Lucien…

MC: When you have nightmares, what do you dream of?

Lucien was slightly startled, and looked away as if thinking back. It took a while, and there was a period where he didn’t say a thing. I suddenly realised that he may be reluctant to talk about these things, so I changed the subject.

MC: Since this is a sentence that you didn’t want to throw into the sea, why did you write it down?

Lucien laughed softly, then looked at the trees swaying between light and shadow outside the window.

Lucien: Maybe the wind is sunny and the weather is fine, but I want to write some private messages to you, and I’m reluctant to let the sea know.

I lay down next to him, raising the note in my hand to the sun. The thin piece of paper was also illuminated by the light, turning it to a warm yellow colour. I stroked it with my fingertips.

MC: Did you know that I would ask you about this note?

Lucien nodded, his tone is very determined.

Lucien: Well, weren’t you staring at me since we had gotten on the boat?

MC: Huh? No-- I was… afraid of seasick children. I only worried about their discomfort. and..

I couldn’t think of an excuse, and stopped. I looked up to see his face melted into the light, and subconsciously knew I had to surrender.

MC: I wasn’t staring… I only took a few peeks.

Lucien laughed and reached out to rub my forehead.

Lucien: What, were you afraid that I would get lost?

MC: Kind of.

I originally said it as a joke, but when i finished speaking, many clips flashed in my mind momentarily. I shifted to face him and reached out and touched his cheek.

My slightly cool fingertips touch his soft skin, and the bit of warmth I find has made me linger. Then, I find my palm pressed gently against his jaw. No stubble can be felt on the clean chin.

Lucien gently covered my hand with his own, and at that moment, I could hear the sand of time flowing amongst the sunlight.

Lucien: Are you really afraid of losing me?

The back of my hand was tightly pressed by his wide palm, leaving no gaps. The little hesitation in my heart was wiped out by such a steady and comforting temperature.

MC: I’m only kidding. i’m not afraid.

I shifted and found a comfortable position in his arms, leaning my head on his shoulder.

MC: I won’t let you get lost. I promise.

Lucien held my hand tighter and placed it on his chest.

Lucien: Then hold me tight, ok?

MC: Of course.

A warm breath quickly fell on my face. He kissed closely and continually, moving from my cheek to the tip of my ear. Every one of his breaths is magnified, pulling the frequency of my heartbeat up from where it had been resting.

Suddenly thinking of something again, he smiled gently.

Lucien: Please let me know, what did you write on your note?

His hot and damp breath fell heavily into my ears. I didn’t know how to respond, so I retreated further into his arms.

MC: That’s also a secret!

He seemed happy to hear it, and surrounded me immediately with his arms. I simply leaned into his chest, and let my legs tangle with his long ones indiscriminately.

Lucien: Can’t you satisfy my curiosity?

MC: Hm? It seems Professor Xu thinks what I wrote must be related to him.

Lucien: If it has nothing to do with me, then why did you look at me while you wrote?

MC: …

MC: Who was peeking at whom?

Lucien doesn’t speak, only low laughter sounding.

MC: But, I have read your note already, so, to be fair, I should also tell you.

I grabbed his hand and flattened his palm, using awkward fingers to trace two words solemnly.

Lucien: Health, safe.

MC: When I went to the Trevi Fountain, I also wished that you were safe and healthy. That was most important. If it’s possible to be greedy, I also hope that you can be happy without worries.

MC: if i can be even more greedy, i hope you have a good dream every night.

Lucien tightened his arms around me. He put his chin on my shoulder, connecting the sides of our faces.

Lucien: It seems that in your most beautiful dream, there must be me.

A light breath completely surrounds me. I lowered my eyelashes and snorted softly.

MC: What about you? What is in your most beautiful dream?

Lucien was silent for a while, and drew a pen from the nightside table.

Lucien: I’ll show it to you.

--

After staying with the children for so long, I don’t know when we have developed the habit of lying on the ground and playing games. The floor at the end of the bed is already full of building blocks, and the blank puzzles are placed in the corner.

Lucien picked it all up, and put it in front of us. The puzzle is a full size, but for now, he only writes in the corners of it. At first, I didn’t see what he was drawing, I just stared at the arc of the pen.

Waiting for him to fill in the details, I can’t help but stretch my head and look, putting it close to his shoulder.

MC: Is it a fish?

When my voice fell, Lucien was still drawing the shape of the tail, but the outline of the fish is very clear.

Lucien: Once I dozed off at the research centre and dreamed that I became a wooden fish. it was dark all around and I couldn’t see what it was like in the water, but, just a single thought can travel far.

Lucien: When i opened my mouth to speak, i would only spit out gurgling bubbles. When I raised my head,I could see sparkling waves on the water above my head. Occasionally, there would also be the sound of chirping birds coming from the sky.

I listened attentively, as if I was also in this dream, startled to feel that the flimsy sunlight outside the window was reflected in the bright colours of the water.

MC: I thought I was the only one who would have such a curious and fun dream, but I didn’t expect you to!

Lucien smiled. The pen in his hand keeps on tracing the scales of the fish’s tail.

Lucien: I slept very lightly, so I knew clearly that I was dreaming. But even so, in my dream, I could also suppose that there was a sound of wind blowing leaves around. Maybe it was the height of summer.

Lucien: If i had waited until dark, maybe I would have seen all of the stars and fireflies.

He said it interestingly, and the same picture appeared before my eyes.

MC: And after?

Lucien: After… I explored aimlessly, thinking to myself, hurry and find another fish or small shrimp and ask them for directions, but I came across neither of them. Later, I woke up.

The environment ended a little hastily, and I couldn’t help but feel lost.

MC: That’s all? Then, why is it the most beautiful dream you’ve ever had?

Lucien looked at the fish he drew, and a faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

Lucien: I was working on a subject at the time that was difficult and troublesome. I had been busy for more than half a year, but hadn’t made any progress. Even in the dream, I was thinking angrily, If I really became a fish, then I don’t need to work.

He narrated calmly, but my mouth almost dropped open. Did Lucien lose his patience and not want to work?

Probably noticing a little surprise in my eyes, Lucien smiled lightly.

Lucien: When faced with difficulties that cannot be bypassed, everyone is more or less anxious and discouraged. Of course I am no exception. Fortunately, after waking up that day, I suddenly had an inspiration.

Lucien: Thinking about it later, perhaps it was because of a weird dream that let the brain go empty for a while, and then figure things out.

Lucien paused for a few seconds, and then slightly drew his lips into a gentle arc. On the paper, a life-like fish had taken shape.

Lucien: I often don’t remember what I have dreamt of, but any dream that can be remembered is beautiful.

I can’t help but look at the dream catchers in the room, hoping that they will catch many dreams for Lucien.

I picked up the pen and drew on the puzzle carefully, and Lucien curiously leaned towards me.

Lucien: Are you going to draw me a small pond?

I looked at him and gripped the blue pencil in my hand, shaking my head lightly.

MC: A sea. I want to draw a sea.

I saw his pupils trembling slightly, but the smile on his lips raised again, and he lifted his chin to look at my thoughtfully. Seeing that he didn’t speak, I didn’t speak anymore either. The two of us just watched quietly -- the corner of our mouths curving slightly and a thousand words leaking through.

I moved my eyes back to the puzzle. Below the blue sea, there are also brightly coloured corals and groups of tropical fish -- a starfish with magnificent tentacles, there must also be large sea turtles waddling about and sunken ships full of treasure.

I drew a lot. But, I didn’t notice that Lucien’s eyes did not move away from my face for even a moment.

Lucien: Can I give you a kiss?

I froze, thinking that I had heard him wrong.

Lucien: Like this-

He cleverly touched the tip of my pen with his own, and then closed the distance, like a soft kiss from a dragonfly.

I blinked slowly, somewhat at a loss, and spoke very quietly.

MC: This kind of thing… there’s no need to ask me.

Lucien: You’ve drawn a lot, and you seem so invested -- any desires I have at the moment are an interruption for you.

His silky tone fell unhurriedly, like a light feather, scratching my heart with only a single glance. I stopped writing and slowly approached him.

MC: Lucien. didn’t you say… that people can dream because their brains have to organise the information we received in the day? If in the future, your eyes will see the best things in the world, don’t you stop having nightmares?

Lucien probably didn’t expect that I would have such thoughts. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, and I couldn’t help but lower my head and smile.

The sunlight plated his face in gold, and I raised my head and pressed my lips to his cheek. His breathing stagnated, but was soon calm again. His lips leaked a cheerful smile.

Lucien: …It seems that i’ll be able to have a beautiful dream tonight.

The warm wind is still blowing, making the glass beads on the dreamcatchers sparkle in the changing light.

-----

Before leaving, Lucien took me to the beach again.

Lucien: The rules of the game were set before. Everyone has to say a word to the sea, so I can’t fool around.

I subconsciously touched my pocket -- the note he had given me before was still there.

Lucien: Won’t you ask what I wrote this time?

I blinked and asked suspiciously,

MC: And what did you write this time?

Lucien took out a small glass bottle from his pocket to remove the cork. He poured out the note that had been placed inside. I took the thinly rolled note from his outstretched palm and opened it carefully.

Two fishes were drawn on the white paper the size of a sticky note. One is exactly the same as the one he drew on the puzzle. The other one, with red scales, was slightly smaller and followed him closely.

Lucien: This would be my most beautiful dream.

Lucien smiled and put the paper back inside again, and threw the glass bottle out into the ocean with little hesitation. I don’t see the object’s line of direction in the air, and before I know it, it’s disappeared beneath sea level.

The light breeze disturbed his shaggy bangs, and his eyes against the tide were gentle and clear.

Lucien: When the children are sent back to the orphanage, what do you want to do?

MC: Pack two bowls of soup, go back, buy more fruit, find a good movie, and take serious rest for the night.

Lucien: Okay. Great plan.

He said this and smiled at me.

Lucien: Let’s go?

MC: okay!

I stretched out my hand, and he clasped his fingers around mine.

MC: I’ll always hold you tight.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mr love queen’s choice #mlqc spoilers #mlqc lucien #this date is alternatively titled: lucien killing grace for 3685 words straight

[houseofhurricane]

20 Questions Writer’s Edition

@gripefroot, thank you for the tag! 🧡

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

4

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

150, 310. BUT I only started on AO3 this year. Before my 9 year hiatus from fanfiction, I posted exclusively on my livejournal, which, read at your own risk, I guess?

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

I had to go to my old Livejournal tags for the answer, which is 10 -- ACOTAR, Parks & Recreation, Community, Chuck, Law & Order UK (for some reason, only the UK edition?), Life On Mars, Ashes to Ashes, House, Doctor Who, Harry Potter

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

There are only 4, but, in order, they're:

Bloom & Bone (Elain/Tamlin, Vassa/Lucien) aren't you scared (well that's just fine) (Gwynriel with a side of Emorie) the pilgrim soul in you (Vassien) as the heart grows bolder (Helion/Lady of Autumn)

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to respond to all of them, because I really appreciate anybody who takes the time to comment on my writing! I'm not at 100%, but close.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Lately, that would be as the heart grows bolder, but I did write some extremely angsty House fic circa 2006 that I hope never again sees the light of day.

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Bloom & Bone! After I finished my first draft, I thought it might be too happy, but I stand by it. It's definitely the happiest ending I've ever written, though.

8. Do you write crossovers? If yes, what’s the craziest thing you’ve written?

No, which is kind of funny given that my dream scenario is all of my friends being friends with each other.

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not that I can remember! Which is kind of wild, given that I just finished writing a big Elain/Tamlin fic and also once wrote Martha/Master Doctor Who fic.

10. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes but tasteful? I wrote my first intense s*x scene where everyone had a good time a few months ago and I loved it. Before that, I'd written either quick scenes or they were extremely literary and no one enjoyed themselves.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

This is embarrassing, but a "friend" once stole a paragraph from one of my fics... and I left them a comment complimenting them on it, only to realize what had happened a few months later. I never spoke to that person again.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but if you ever want to translate my fics, that would be amazing!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Once! I'm down to do it again in the future, though.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

The thing about me is that I ship every ship when I really think about it.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Nine years ago, I wrote a Community AU where Jeff was Annie's law school professor and only got halfway through -- I still like it but I think too much time has passed.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Writing beautiful sentences and developing characters.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

I hate writing battle scenes and always try and find a way to break them down into smaller pieces or avoid the battle through diplomacy. Anything to avoid having to learn military strategy.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

This is interesting because a lot of my original fiction deals with Cubans and Cuban-Americans, who speak a lot of Spanish. So I've thought about this issue a lot. I try to only use another language if it's essential to the story or character, or if the word/phrase only exists in that language. For example, in Spanish there's "aprovecha!" which literally translates to, "take advantage of your favorable situation!" and that's just not the same thing. I try to provide translations when it flows in the story, but I don't always do this specifically for Spanish (or French, on the rare occasion when I use it) because it's relatively easy to look up.

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, which I now feel weird about given everything we know about JKR.

20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Currently, it's aren't you scared? (well that's just fine). Something about Gwyn really, really clicked for me in that fic, and although I literally wrote it in a morning, I'm very proud of it. I'm working on a longer Gwynriel fic at the moment, and I think it's even better -- I can't wait until it's ready to share.

#i love this set of questions #writing process #writing fanfic

[sharinluna]

Lucien Unspoken Words Date Translation with Commentary

I decided that the title of this date is “Unspoken words date” but it’s more like “words that you want to say but cannot say” Date.

This date happens between chapter 21 and 22. I strongly recommend reading this date before the new chapters are updated because I think the content of this date is semi main story. Also, this date has references to chapter 13 and chapter 16.

This time, I implemented commentaries in-between dates. Tell me if you like them or hate them.

I used Yōurán as MC’s name.

______________________________

In a dark laboratory, the computer monitor flashed a blue screen and the file folder named “memory” was empty. The dream recording device was broken and all data have disappeared without a trace.

A gleam of light flashed in Lucien’s dark eyes. He rebooted the device and quickly typed some words. A map of the city popped out. A red dot appeared in the old address of closed Ultima Bioresearch Institute.

Lucien: Found it.

(In chapter 16 we learn that if people leave Lucien’s dream world, they lose all memory of what happened in that dream. That’s why Yōurán forgot the latter parts of chapter 16. But Lucien has a device to record the lost memories so he could later retrieve them. At this stage I think Lucien figured out that he had memories with Yōurán in a different universe(chapter 1-18 world) and tried to use this device to see them. But any clues that could lead to memories of Yōurán are cut off. Like in chapter 20 when Yōurán found out that the pictures she took with Kiki vanished from her phone.)

____________________________________

I stood at the front of the deserted Institute building and bit my lips.

I couldn’t believe that I had managed to escape from Ares’s grasp the last time I came here, but my sore body reminded me of what I did.

Lucien: Queen, by itself, is the height of natural evolution. If humans are the product of nature’s creation, Queen is a creation that ‘cannot exist.’

Lucien’s words from that day kept coming back to me, and how his eyes looked so deep and cold as he said that.

So I decided to take a risk. I intentionally leaked the information on the internet that a confidential file concerning people with special genes was discovered in the old buildings of Ultima Bioresearch.

Now, I was at the door of the research building. I took a deep breath.

Yōurán: He has to come, right? He knows what I am…

As I said to myself I opened the door, but before I could step in someone pulled me inside with an ice-like grip. The door slammed shut.

It was too dark to see who had dragged me in. But from the way they grabbed my wrists so tight I could tell they were not friendly. I instinctively tried to kick and fight my way out.

??: Hold still.

Yōurán: …Lucien? Is that you?

I didn’t know if I felt afraid, or something else when I heard his voice. Lucien soon let go of my wrists.

He was wearing black and standing in the darkness. Like the last time I met him here, I could feel coldness that made me hesitant to reach him.

Lucien: You…

Yōurán: I suppose you want to know why I came here, right?

Lucien smiled at my interruption, as if he was amused that I had seen him through.

Lucien: I will gladly hear your explanation.

Yōurán: I…

came here because I missed you.

Reason kept me from saying what I really wanted to say.

Yōurán: I want to know why you’re here.

Lucien smiled coldly.

Lucien: Maybe letting you go free last time was a mistake.

As he said that, he slowly went closer to me.

Yōurán: I’m the one who leaked that information in the internet. Your coming here was my doing!

Lucien: That was you? Why would you do that?

Yōurán: Because I want to know what it means to be Queen in this world.

I looked at Lucien pointedly. His eyes seemed to hold mockery and contempt. Did he think that I was being ridiculous? I knew that I should get used to him looking at me like that, but it still hurt so much…

I stepped closer to him and met his gaze squarely.

Yōurán: I want to find out the truth, no matter how many hardships I have to go through.

This is not the first time I said this to you, Lucien. Don’t you remember?

(She’s talking about chapter 13)

Lucien: Do you think you can face the truth, even when it will hurt you mortally

His words brought back memories from a long time ago.

Lucien: And what if the truth shakes your entire being and tears you apart? Will you still choose the truth?

Yōurán: To face the truth, one must also face pain and suffering. I will not run away from them. Someone very important to me taught me that. And he told me he would accompany me along the way.

(In chapter 13, Lucien gave her two choices. To live a safe, tranquil life being protected and not knowing the truth, or to seek out the truth no matter how cruel it would be. Yōurán chose the truth and he said he would accompany her until the end - the reveal of him being Ares.)

I looked at Lucien as I said that. I wanted to know how he would react but also, was afraid of what he would say.

Something flashed in his eyes, but soon his gaze returned to the usual coldness.

Lucien: Only a fool would believe those words. He was deceiving himself and you by saying that.

I felt like something snapped in two in my heart.

Yōurán: You’re wrong. At least… at the time he said that, he wanted to be with me.

Lucien: Do you believe that?

Yōurán: I’ve had doubts, but I still believe him.

Lucien silently looked at me like he was amazed. After a short silence he laughed quietly.

Lucien: You are more impressive than I thought. It seems that I have underestimated you, Queen.

From the window I could see snow falling in the sunset. The wind from outside became colder and I shivered. Lucien didn’t miss my tiny movement and he wordlessly went to the window to block out the chill wind.

Lucien: I don’t want my enemy to fall down because she catches a cold. We are still contemplating the idea of cooperating with you.

Yōurán: Don’t worry. I will not fall down.

I glanced sideways at the wall. It seemed as if some sixth sense was telling me to look there. The wall was filled with grime and dust showing how old this building was.

Something was not right…

Lucien: This is from the Corinthians. It means that the truth is projected into the hearts of men through a glass lens. It’s distorted, blurry, and one-dimensional.

I suddenly felt dizzy. What happened to the words written on the wall? How could they disappear without a trace?

Yōurán: There used to be some writing on this wall here, remember? We saw it together the last time we came here!

A little bit excited, I tugged at Lucien’s sleeves. He didn’t push me away, but he didn’t answer me either. His emotionless eyes told me that he had no idea what I was talking about.

Yōurán: I… I mean…

I immediately pulled my hand away from him.

Lucien: What was it then? You said that there used to be some writing here. What was it?

Yōurán: “Through a glass darkly.”

I whispered the words. My head started to hurt. Lucien stared hard at the empty wall and then frowned.

Lucien: It’s a bible verse, nothing special. Except…

Yōurán: Did you remember something?

Lucien: If that verse really used to be here, who wrote that on this wall? Or what I really want to know is…

Lucien hesitated and his eyes looking at me became more intense.

Lucien: Why did you say that we saw it together “the last time we’ve been here”? Our only meeting in this building happened only a few days ago. Shall I remind you what happened at that day?

(It’s interesting that Yōurán thinks of chapter 13 while Lucien thinks of strangling her in chapter 21. This Lucien is not the Lucien from chapter 1-18.)

Lucien approached me briskly and I stepped back. My back reached the hard wall and there was nowhere for me to escape. His eyes turned sinister, like he was about to hunt a feeble prey.

There were a lot of things I wanted to say to him. But I doubted that it would work. After a short hesitation, I finally opened my mouth.

Yōurán: I told you. I have someone who’s very important to me. I came here with that person.

Lucien seemed unsatisfied with my evading answer and he continued to look at me with displeasure.

Yōurán: You look quite a lot like him, so for a second, I… mistook you for him.

I pretended to be calm as I said that, but my heart kept beating wildly.

Lucien froze for a moment, then his eyes flashed like a sharp knife. He closed the distance between us and grabbed my wrist tightly. I jerked my hand away, but he only grabbed it tighter.

For a few seconds we confronted each other like that, both sides unwilling to back off.

Yōurán: Are you angry?

Suddenly, his hands gripping my wrist loosened.

Lucien: Why would I be angry at you?

His expression told me that he was being sincere. He really seemed to be puzzled at his reaction.

(omg I like this part. Lucien was feeling jealous of the other Lucien! And he doesn’t know that what he’s feeling is jealousy!)

Yōurán: If you’re not, then fine. I don’t want to create any misunderstandings. Right now, we are not even in a cooperative relationship.

Lucien: I agree. Where is the dream experiment data?

Yōurán: I’m sorry?

Suddenly, a blinding white light impaired our visions. I saw traces of tension in Lucien’s frown.

Lucien: Wait here.

Lucien went outside and stood still in the snow.

His face turned menacing as he stared at the unwelcome guest approaching. I watched them hiding by the window. He was facing a few people. One of them had grisly scars on his face.

A white barrier surrounded them, and I could hear Lucien’s voice.

Lucien: It’s you.

??: Long time no see, Ares.

They were from Black Swan. Did they come here because of the information I leaked? Would Lucien be in danger? Fear swept over me and I tiptoed to the front door to get a closer look.

Hades: You beat me to it. Once again, you showed that you are not to be underestimated. If we could work together…

Lucien; Don’t be absurd. I already turned down your offer and I have no intention of changing my mind.

(Poor Hades. He was rejected by Ares in chapter 16 and he’s being rejected here too.)

I couldn’t see Lucien’s face but his voice sounded extremely menacing. The face of the other man became sour and his false smile hardened.

Hades: Then let’s get down to business. Do you have the special genetics file?

Lucien’s answer seemed to enrage him even more.

Hades: Let’s not be too difficult here. Ares, you’re a smart person. You gotta know that my goals and your goals are not entirely contradictory.

Lucien: So?

Hades: Hand me the data, or cooperate with me.

Lucien: Do you think you are in a position to bargain with me?

Hades: If not, I have no choice but to get rid of you.

He raised his hand and suddenly a swirl of snowstorm swarmed over Lucien. Lucien stood still and waved his right hand. Ice pillars came out from the ground and shattered the snowy attack.

Hades: Exceptional work, Ares. But this is not over yet.

His face with the heinous scar reflected in the moonlight and became etched to my vision. Suddenly, I felt a gigantic shock in my head and everything became dark.

Falling down into abyss, scent of blood, Lucien whispering in my ear…

Lucien: Silly girl…. I didn’t lie to you… I will not sacrifice someone important to me.

His broken words poured into my head. I felt like I was suffocating.

(She finally recovered her lost memories from chapter 16)

In the distance I heard a gunshot and I came back to reality.

Yōurán: Lucien…

I opened the door and ran outside. Lucien must have heard me since he turned around to face me.

As he saw me running toward him I saw in his eyes surprise, wrath and a fleeting glimpse of intense ecstasy.

Yōurán: Are you okay? Are you hurt?

Lucien shoved my hand away.

Lucien: I’m fine. You ignored my warnings as always.

Yōurán: I followed my instinct and it brought me here. Someone taught me to trust my instincts when there’s danger.

The corner of his mouth went up a little bit.

Lucien: Tell him he’s wrong.

(Tell him yourself. She’s talking about you.)

With that Lucien dragged me behind him and protected me. A ray of white light just barely missed my shoulder. Fury was in his eyes and his smile turned sinister, as if determined to finish the opponent.

Huge snowflakes erupted out from his gloved hands, turned into piercing ice knives and shot forward. I could smell blood in the air.

I could feel someone coming for an attack from Lucien’s blind spot.

Yōurán: Be careful!

Without hesitation I pushed Lucien away from harm. A sharp blade grazed my cheek. At that second, I saw a look of shock in his eyes reflected on the surface of the icy fragments.

Another burst of blinding light forced me to close my eyes. When I opened them again, we were the only people there.

Lucien: It’s all right now.

I wondered if I was dreaming when I heard him gently talking to me like before. But when I looked at him there was anger in his eyes and I stiffened.

The cut on my cheek throbbed and I couldn’t suppress a grimace. Lucien raised his hand toward me then after a second thought, he put it back down again. Then he cleared his throat and avoided my eyes.

Lucien: Since you used such an unusual method to call me out here, I suppose you already made up your mind to deal with possible injuries. But… you didn’t fail in surprising me. Your powers are much stronger than I thought. My expectations weren’t futile.

Lucien: But you should know that, when the real danger comes, the values that you believe in might make you be in more danger. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.

Yōurán: I saved you in the end, though, didn’t I?

Lucien: ……Why? Why did you save me? And I’ve been wanting to ask you before… who in the world are you?

His each word became etched to my heart. I looked at my reflection in his eyes.

Yōurán: I thought you already knew. I’m Queen.

Lucien: And…?

I laughed bitterly.

Yōurán: Shouldn’t you thank me for saving you?

Lucien: Shouldn’t you answer my question first?

I pretended not to hear him.

Yōurán: You owed me this time, so don’t forget to pay me back next time we meet. Then I will answer your question.

Lucien: Why should I trust you?

Yōurán: Pinky swear, then.

My unconscious action driven out from habit startled both of us. 

(In chapter 13, Lucien and Yōurán made a pinky swear to fly kites together before the spring was over... which he didn’t get to keep.)

It seemed like nothing had changed between us, but everything was at a new starting point now.

Lucien lightly laughed at my childish behavior. My cheeks turned red and I put my hand down and made to leave.

Lucien: I thought you said pinky swear.

Yōurán: I’m not a child.

And you didn’t even keep that promise that you made long ago.

Lucien: Alright. I promise. Don’t forget to answer my question the next time we meet.

Yōurán: I won’t.

I turned around and walked away as if I was unfazed by what happened. I was afraid that my feelings bubbling up inside would burst out if I stayed any longer.

Lucien stared at her with amusement in his eyes…and some other sentiment.

Lucien: I look forward to seeing you again.

As she went further away from him, the beautiful colors faded and the world turned back to gray. It somehow reminded him of the dream he had forgotten a long time ago.

Lucien shook his head trying to keep his thoughts clear. But no matter now hard he tried he kept thinking about her face, her eyes, her looks of sadness. How she seemed to miss someone when she was looking at him.

Without knowing why, anger welled up inside him. He had no idea that this would affect him like this. He felt like a mariner roaming in the deep sea even though he knew his destination.

(Lucien being jealous of himself again.)

___________________________________

When I was far away from the research institute I sighed.

Yōurán: Lucien, don’t you remember who I am? It’s me, Yōurán, who always used to pester you with silly chatter, wait for your stories every night, who learned from you to see the wider world…. who always chose to get closer to you even when you warned me away…

Next time we meet, I hope it’s spring. People will fly kites in this year too.

My memories of him were warm in my heart, giving me courage to encounter him with my back straight and my head held high.

It’s okay. Even when on my own, I can keep our promise by flying kites by myself.

One person held two people’s memories, so I was sure that I could face what’s to come with a braver heart.

______________________________________

Lucien is the one who said “Love can lead people into traps. I’ll never let emotions stand in my way again.”

It seems that Lucien from winter Loveland City is going to fall into this trap too.

#mlqc #mlqc translation #mlqc lucien #mlqc date

[harryandhishook]

Thanksgiving Secrets

Fandom: Dream Daddy

Pairing: Background Hugo x Damien

Setting: Maple Bay

Warning: Erm … Coming out? Swearing? I have no idea

Summary: After going to College, Lucien is invited for Thanksgiving with his Dad, Hugo and Ernest, however, Ernest hasn’t been his normal self and some secrets are revealed 

Words: 4059

Requested: Nope, I wrote this last November in a book on a coach coming back from Walk Disney World Florida

Side note: Before I give my apologies, I AM A TRANS MAN, if anything in here sounds off or doesn’t sound like how you expect a coming out story is, just remember, everyone’s coming out story is different and I tried to do this the best I can.

Also I am so so sorry, I know I haven’t uploaded in ages and I know there is no excuse but University is a bitch, my mental health is not good and my Grandmother (Who raised me) is pushing me to my limit and I’m so close to cutting contact with her. Sorry to unload all that to you but I’m trying my hardest to keep myself together and not just quit everything.

Here, have a cute Gif of Damien stroking a cat :) And sorry for any errors in the writing, it’s long and I still don’t have anyone to read my stuff over for me :(

Growing up wasn’t as bad as people thought it was, it just … sucked. When people aged, they found their soulmates, got jobs, leave to see the world, people grow up in body and mind.

It was around the time that Lucien was in his final year of Highschool when his Dad and Hugo finally confessed their feelings to each other and became a thing, Ernest was still young and very much acting out.

Lucien was the quickest to accept it, he was a little hesitant at first seeing as it was just him and Damien through his entire life and his Dad wasn’t exactly a stereotypical person, he may not act like it but when it comes to his Father, he is crazy protective over him and well, he didn’t want to let him get hurt, however, over time, he realised just how much the two Cul-De-Sac Fathers loved each other.

Ernest on the other hand, he couldn’t bring himself to accept the fact that his Father was dating, he couldn’t accept that he could one day have a Stepbrother, he just couldn’t accept any of it. The boy did everything to try and stop it, he acted out even more than usual, tried to split them up, he did whatever he could think of but no matter what, Damien would always treat him like he was his own son.

Now, a few years down the line, Lucien decided to prove every one of his disapproving teachers wrong and leave for College, all the while Ernest was stuck in his final year of Highschool, now, the pyromaniac delinquent was still one of his biggest features, something he was still well known as but the young Vega boy was actually a lot calmer than before and actually tried his hardest to settle down.

Damien and Hugo knew that Ernest never really had much of a problem with telling someone, even if it was through anger, how he felt and both Fathers had come to think that maybe the boy had completely reformed himself, figuring himself out, growing up from the mischievous boy they had watch destroy himself with hate and they both hoped that the boy would stay that way.

This year, the family decided to host Thanksgiving together, Lucien agreeing to travel down and stay for two weeks with them all while Damien tried to get as much time as he could from work for his Son. Luckily for Hugo and Ernest, the school boiler had decided to explode quite abruptly, leaving almost the entirety of the upper school, Hugo and Ernest area, flooded, giving them both the opportunity to stay at home for longer.

The day Lucien arrived home, he two Dad decided to meet him at the bus station, they had asked Ernest who had politely refused which was not much of a surprise to them, he barely left his room recently, he didn’t say why but they expected it may have possibly been school work.

When they had arrived at the station and greeted Lucien very happily, they had both shrugged off his question of, ‘where’s the brat?’, stating that he was busy and found it difficult to put his stuff down, not wanting him to worry too much when he had only just got there.

When Lucien got to the house, he was more than happy to wave at all his old neighbours with a wide smile on his face, anyone from a mile away could tell he had missed Maple Bay. It took almost an hour before the emo was able to walk through the door, not only did he need help with bags, his neighbours that he had waved to, mainly Mary, Joseph and Brian, had taken it upon themselves to bombard him with questions … okay, mainly Joseph and Brian, Mary was just happy to see the little monster again.

Finally, Lucien was in the clear, bags in the hall, coat and shoes off, placed neatly in their respective places while Damien rushed off to make them all something special to eat that night. The bo-young adult moved through his old home without so much as looking where he was going, all perfectly memorised until he reached the room that he never really needed to go into, the room that was never used into recently, Ernest’s room.

With a soft knock, Lucien waited, he knew that even with Ernest being older and probably not bothered by the emos presence, he still needed privacy,

“Who is it?” came a quiet and tired sounding voice, to anyone outside of the family, they would have thought someone else had spoken but Lucien could recognise the little shits voice better than anyone,

“Oi, dickhead, you gonna open up for your favourite brother or not?” Lucien playfully replied, hoping his usual attitude and joking ways could coax Ernest out of his little hiding mood. It took a few moments but soon enough, the door creaked open, revealing a tired looking and very messy looking Ernest, his hair was a mess, his clothes looked like they hadn’t seen a washing machine in years from how crumpled and wrinkly they were and finally, even if the boy thought no one could see, Lucien wasn’t so easily fooled as to not see the dried tears staining his cheeks,

“Ernest, man, what happened?” the emo asked, pushing them both into the room so he could block out everyone else once the door was shut, “You look like shit, when was the last time you had a shower? What the hell happened to you dude?” he asked, well, more demanded to know as he continued to push the younger boy into the room, sitting him on the bed before shuffling around the piles of clothes and trash, picking up the laundry to move out into the hamper before picking up every single piece of rubbish and crap left on the floor,

“Nothings wrong, Luce, I’m fine, I’ve just been busy, you know how it is, final year of school and all that” Ernest protested, trying his hardest to sound normal but failing miserably to convince his best friend and brother,

“Yeah, bullshit, if you’re so busy with work then I’m the straightest man alive, you’re lies ain’t gonna work on me so either you tell me what’s going on or have a shower, you smell like death so pick one or the other” Lucien demanded sternly, giving him a pretty simple choice, now to see if Ernest would actually pick one.

Luck would have it, Ernest grumpily rolled himself from the bed and made his way begrudgingly to the bathroom that was opposite the boys room, causing the emo to smile in relief.

As the sound f the shower filled the hall and the grumbles of annoyance hit the older siblings ears, Lucien made his way downstairs, large bag of trash in one hand and the hamper in the other. The little chore was meant to go smoothly … if his dads weren’t being stupidly lovey dovey in he kitchen, at least he got to see both adults become exceedingly embarrassed at being caught, however, that changed to shock when they spotted that the rebellious emo they had grown to love was cleaning in the first few minutes of staying in the house,

“It’s not what it looks like, Ernests room was a mess so I cleaned his room while he’s taking a well needed shower” Lucien explained as he put the bag of trash by the back door, “O know there is something wrong with him and I’m going to try get it out of him … whether he likes it or not” the boy stated as he moved into the adjacent room to start the new load of laundry, he was so busy he hadn’t even noticed his parents enter the room after him,

“My darling, we didn’t want you to worry, Ernest has been acting quite peculiar as of late, normally we can easily piece together his dilemma but … as you saw, he hasn’t left his room in quite some time” Damien explained as they stood in the doorway, watching the emo boy start the washer before turning to look at the two men, he was about to speak when Hugo interrupted him,

“I don’t want to lose Ernest, not when I’ve just managed to get him to call me dad again” the eldest Vega whispered, sighing as the Victorian beside him gently laced their fingers together, “Lucien please try and get him to open up to us” years ago, Lucien would tell his parents to do it themselves but from the looks on his dads faces, it was out of their hands and unsurprisingly up to him,

“Fine but only because I love you both” the emo chuckled, walking in between them to escape the little room, “Anyway, who can resist my puppy dog eyes” Lucien smirked before pointing at Damien, “and one of Dads famous movie pamper nights” he finished as he vanished back upstairs,

“Damien, what is he talking about?” the teacher asked, absolutely confused but also very intrigued. Hugo turned his gaze to the side only to come face to face with a very ecstatic man next to him,

“It’s been so long, I will need many supplies, first, I’ll need to find a good movie, maybe comedy, oh how this brings back so many memories” the Victorian man rambled as he scurried about the rooms, writing a very long list, “this will surely help Ernest, why did I not think of this” he muttered before handing the list to the other man in the room, “I will need you to run to Walmart for all these things, also get some of those pizza rolls that Ernest loves so much, thank you” he instructed before also disappearing off upstairs, leaving a baffled Hugo still stood in the laundry room now holding a long list of junk food … way too much junk food.

Nightfall came, the living room had been transformed into what looked like a teenage girls slumber party; junk food, movies, nail kits, make up, face masks, everything a slumber party needed.

Hugo had been told he could enter if and only if he let someone do one little bit of pampering on him, to which the teacher quickly excused himself with the explanation of ‘papers to complete’, leaving Damien to sit in his very baggy and very comfortable … okay, maybe not his clothes but the wrestling shirts he ‘borrowed’ from Hugo looked so cute on him. Lucien sat beside him in some of his least emo pyjamas anyone had ever seen on the boy since they were covered in Mickey Mouse heads but who’s judging.

Soon, once the room was competed, Lucien hurried upstairs, knocking gently on the large door of Ernest's room to get his attention,

“Bitch, I need you to do two things, one, find some comfy clothes and two, come downstairs” the emo shouted through the door before waiting for a response which amazingly didn’t take as long as the door opened to reveal a grouchy looking mess,

“What are you trying to do, Goth?” Ernest mumbled, obviously trying to joke around even thought Lucien could tell he felt like absolute shit,

“It’s emo and I’m not trying to do anything, all I want to do is to try and help you feel better” Lucien explained before realising he was just going to have to reveal what was downstairs, “Me and Dad were talking and I found out that you like to sit and talk to him so, me, you and my Dad are going to sit downstairs, eat junk food and watch movies … sound good?” he asked, hoping it was going to work.

Lucien realised it definitely did when Ernest held up a single finger, closing the door in the emos face before appearing once again moments later in very baggy yet comfortable clothing,

“Well then, come on, I don’t have all day” Ernest grumbled, a small smile gracing his exhausted face as he obviously tried to crack another joke with his stepbrother. Slowly, he made his way down the grand staircase to the living room where Damien was waiting happily,

“Ernest, my dead, come sit” he said giddily, patting the stack of pillows and duvets beside him, allowing Ernest enough space to sit comfortably as he pressed play on the movie, one of Ernest's and Damien's guilty pleasures, Descendants,

“Descendants, junk food and being lazy … you trying to butter me up, pops?” Ernest chuckled weakly as he sat down, getting himself comfortable between his family, he knew exactly what they were doing for him but maybe a little treat wouldn’t be too bad to indulge in.

A few hours, three descendants films and a lot of pampering later, the three of them were laid back, heads rested against the sofa as they spoke, Lucien's nails were drying, Damien had a face mask on and Ernest was staring, his ears were almost deaf to the world around him as the other two people in the room chatted away but he couldn’t bring himself to look away and join in, his gaze couldn’t move from the one thing in the room that haven’t been touched, the make-up. The young boy was silent, burning holes into the bag of brushes and surprises, until,

“Pops…” A meek whisper but was caught by the man it was directed to, causing the two to stop talking and sit up, removing the cucumbers from over his eyes,

“Yes my dear?” Damien asked as he watched the young boy slowly turn his gaze over to his,

“I’ve heard that … well, some girls at my school have said that …” the boy stuttered, trying to think of the best way to describe his strange request but he couldn’t, making the boy sigh and ask, “Can it feel good to put on make-up?” he finally asked, trying not to make eye contact.

Damien's eyes widened a little, out of everything he had prepared himself to answer, that wasn’t one of them,

“Well, it can, especially the brushes, the make-up itself can feel strange though” Damien answered before reaching over to the table the bag was laid, bring it over to them.

Ernest sat silently, watching him reach inside and pull out a large fluffy brush, leaning over and carefully sliding it across the boys cheek, earning a soft sigh of joy,

“Would you like me to put some on you?” the Victorian man asked as he rummaged through the seemingly bigger on the inside bag, revealing a few different contraptions and what looked like small torture devices. With a small, timid nod, the young Vega answered,

“Y-Yes please … if it’s not too weird” Ernest whispered, shuffling closer to Damien, all the while, Lucien watched with a happy smile, he knew this is exactly what his brother needed, maybe not just to relax but it was a relief to watch Ernest finally calm,

“Let’s get started then and don’t worry dear, I have the perfect colours for you … I may have possibly convinced your Father to do this once too” Damien chuckled softly, reminiscing as he grabbed the correct pieces he needed. Ernest closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt a cool liquid and soft brush move over his skin.

A while later and make-up flung everywhere, Damien sat back to admire his work as Ernest scrunched his face a little to get used to this new and very strange feeling of stuff covering his face,

“You look absolutely darling, it suits you” the Victorian said as he started to tidy the make-up away just as the grandfather clock behind then chimed midnight, “Oh dear, it is quite late and I need to start preparing food tomorrow, well, I guess I best wash this stuff off of my face and retire to bed, you boys can stay up a little longer if you wish, as long as you don’t make too much noise” Damien said as he slowly stood, stretching himself out before kissing both boys on the top of their heads, bidding them a good night.

Lucien continued to watch his Father head upstairs to his room before turning back to Ernest once he was no longer in sight but stopped at the scene before him,

“Ernest? What wrong?” he asked concerned, in front of him was Ernest, a boy well known for setting fire to the bushes outside his Fathers home, holding a mirror and sobbing into his hand, “Ernest, it’s okay, you can talk to me, what happening to you?”

As Ernest turned his head to look at the boy beside him, Lucien noticed the slight little wrinkles on the edge of his eyes, the same wrinkles his own Father got, which was all he needed to know exactly what was going through his brothers head and no matter what, he was going to show him just how much he still loved him through it all.

A few days went by, Lucien and Ernest had barely been in the house which, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud, made both parents happy but also quite concerned for their sons whenever Lucien shrugged them off with quick reassurance of, ‘They’ll tell you on Thanksgiving, don’t worry dads’, before quickly running which wasn’t what the two men were hoping to hear but it seemed to ease both their minds for a while, at least until Hugo restarted his usual pacing around the kitchen as Damien cooked.

The night came quickly, Thanksgiving, the food was almost complete, the house smelt of perfectly roasted vegetables and mouth-watering deserts, the table decorated to Damien's specifications while Hugo was banished to sit and wait at the table, only problem was, two people were still missing, however, not too far away as just upstairs behind a single locked door were their pair of siblings, whispering cautiously,

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea” the young Vega questioned, obviously having a few seconds thought as they allowed Lucien to work his magic,

“It is a good idea … look, Dad and Pops aren’t going to hate you, they never could, they love you too much and anyway, I think your forgetting one vital thing and probably one of the biggest elephants in this house” Lucius argued, brushing through his siblings now unknotted hair, trying and praying to whatever deity out there to get it to style as the other sat quietly,

“And what’s that exactly?” they asked, watching in the mirror cautiously as Lucien spoke up with a soft chuckle,

“Damien” he placed the brush down as he expertly braided the surprisingly long hair in front of him and for the first time in months, the youngest Vega laughed,

Not too long later, Dinner was called, Hugo and Damien waited patiently in their respective seats just as footsteps descended the stairs but only a single pair of footsteps approaching the dining room. Both men turned curiously to see Lucien standing in the doorway but no one else,

“Lucien, where’s Ernest?” Hugo asked, seemingly becoming annoyed as well as worried over the whereabouts of his son,

“About that…” Lucien started, turning his gaze into the hall for a moment before quickly moving back to the stares of his parents, “Ernest won’t be joining us tonight … or ever again …” the young emo explained, quickly realising a long pause wouldn’t be the best option as he quickly stopped either one of his Fathers could protest, stepping further into the room, “Because someone new will be taking Ernest's place” just as he finished speaking, a tall figure walked into the room beside him, a long, tight fitting, pale orange cocktail dress swept the floor behind the person as their long braided hair lay over a single exposed shoulder.

The light of the room hit the persons face, capturing the perfectly applied make-up that sculpted their features beautifully and it was then they realised,

“Ernest?” they both asked, quite bewildered, watching the young Vega nervousness build up which did not go unnoticed by Lucien,

“Actually, may I introduce our newest addition to the Vega-Bloodmarch Family, Emily, Emily Dickinson Vega, my sister” he announced, wrapping a supportive arm around his sibling to give them some encouragement, “If it’s okay with her Fathers, she would very much like to join us for dinner?” Lucien asked softly, smile on his face as he waited for their parent’s reactions.

Unsurprising to Lucien, Damien was the first to move, wasting no time in in pushing his chair out from under himself to embrace his daughter,

“Oh, my dear, of course you can join us for dinner and for any other meals you want to” he whispered through tears he didn’t even know were running down his face, “now I understand the make-up, I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs sooner, I never wanted you to feel scared to be who you are” he whispered, the scene in the Bloodmarch home was one to remember when Emily wrapped her arms around his step-father, holding onto him as if their lives depended on it, however, there was still only one other person they needed to complete this little family moment, Hugo.

Everyone slowly turned their heads to see the larger man carefully rising from his seat, moving around the ornate furniture to move closer to where his child stood, arms back by her side as she stood tall and strong,

“Dad, I know this is sudden but I’ve been hiding for so long, I didn’t know who I was but I saw Damien doing so many things that made me think, he showed me how happy he was, I saw the life of someone who was truly happy, all this” she gestured to herself as she continued, “made me realize who I really am and I’m sorry for not being able to tell you sooner … I know I ruined your life for years with all the stupid shit I did but all the stupid thoughts in my head, I was scared, alone, I-“ her rambling was cut short when a pair of quite muscular arms pulled her forward and into a tight but comforting embrace,

“You are my child, my flesh and blood, you are everything to me and I love you, never forget that, no matter who you are, you are a Vega” he reassured, whispering just loud enough for Damien and Lucien to hear the loving exchange of words as they both smiled proudly.

Soon enough, two smaller arms snaked their way around Hugo as a small sob echoed in the large room causing any existing space in the embrace to disappear as it tightened,

“I was so scared you would hate me, I was meant to be your son, the man of the hous-“ her hurtful words were stopped as she was carefully pushed backwards, a hand laid gently on her cheek, forcing her to blurrily look up at a smiling Hugo,

“You have always been my daughter, even if we didn’t know that until now, you were and always will be my baby girl” he explained, his voice soothing any doubt the young Vega had before the wrestling nerd added just one more sentence, “And I think being married to Damien is an automatic law that I accept whatever part of the LGBT you realise you’re apart of … I think I’d be a bit hypocritical if I didn’t accept you as my daughter” the taller man finished and after a few moments of silence, the room filled with giggles from the man in question,

“Your Fathers right” Damien managed to say through soft giggles, “Excuse my French but … I’d kick his ass if he didn’t” he smirked before quickly pushing the three of them towards the table, “Now, if you children, yes, I’m also talking about you too Hugo, don’t get to the table to eat, the food will go cold and I’ll lock the refrigerator as punishment” the Victorian man threatened as the Family rolled their eyes but obediently followed his orders, spending the rest of the night laughing, talking and finally, for the first time in a while, being a family.

#Dream Daddy #Maple Bay #Damien #Damien Bloodmarch #Hugo #Hugo Vega #Hugo x Damien #Damien x Hugo #VegaMarch #Lucien #Lucien Bloodmarch #Ernest #Ernest Vega #LGBT #Trans #Transgender #Trans Woman

[targentis]

tarot questions answer if you want xoxoxo love n light

these ask prompts got buried but anyway im going to answer them all

the fool: do you have any nicknames?

um! people used to (and some still do lol) call me Zan when my name was Zandre. some of my irl friends call me Smeemon. a handful of people call me Dessie sometimes JFSJFJDJ

the magician: have you ever written a poem or song about somebody else?

yeah like 99% of the poetry ive written lately is about my joyfriend JDSJFJDJ ALSO i wrote a song for them and that's literally the reason we are together today :')

the high priestess: what is your dream date?

SUSHI. DATE. i would also like to just wander around a museum holding hands......we go get sushi and THEN we go to a museum. and then we go home and chill. i am a simple man with simple needs

the empress: do you think you will ever get married?

yes. yes. yes. absolutely.

the emperor: what are some names that you like?

fun fact names could probably be considered a special interest for me so i cannot list them all due to having a literal list thats like a mile long. um but some of my favorites are probably Sebastian, Lucien, Lorelei, Riannan, Nico, Meredith, and actually literally any name starting with a V

the hierophant: do you believe in ghosts?

yeah i guess! pretty sure i was haunted by some girl named Kimberly at my old house lol

the lovers: do you have a crush?

😳😳😳😳 dont tell anyone but i have a crush...........on my joyfriend !!!!!

the chariot: thoughts on astrology?

its complicated and i dont quite understand all of it but im trying to learn

strength: what is your dream occupation?

video game composer babey!!! 

the hermit: what is your favorite soda pop?

coca cola babey!!!

wheel of fortune: first three songs that come on shuffle?

Circles by KIRA, Challenge by Cellar Darling, Forget by MARINA

justice: favorite color of rose?

THE OSIRIA KIND please look it up tumblr will die if i try to post a picture but its like. red and white and its gorgeous

the hanged man: favorite movie soundtrack?

HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON. ITS SO ICONIC JOHN POWELL REALLY WENT OFF WITH THE MOTIFS

death: what are three things you want to do before you die?

hmmm.........meet all my internet friends, finish my descole costume, and have a dramatic and villainous wedding.

temperance: can you describe a strange dream you’ve had?

HELP IVE HAD SO MANY. one time i dreamt i was engaged to des and some lady in a bathroom kept pestering me about it bc she wanted him for herself so i gave up and gave her the ring like "ok u can have him"

this was a bloom memory. JFSNBFJDND

the devil: do you enjoy thunderstorms?

yes! i get to tell Thor i love him

the tower: favorite colors to wear?

black. also red i just really look good in red

the star: have you ever seen a psychic?

nope! i kind of want to, though, just to see what it's like. i wonder if any of the psychics in town are actually legit, considering i live in a tourist city.

the moon: have you ever written a love letter?

heehee yes...one day i will be able to send all my love letters too...

the sun: do you believe in magic?

of course i'm a witch

judgement: do you enjoy school?

um yeah i suppose so but it does stress me out a lot lol

the world: do you like waking up early?

no i hate it i hate it so much EJRJSJFDJFN

#beneath the ask #long post #THANK YOU luke

[spaceshipkat]

Okay so the only SJ/M books I’ve read have been acotrash w the exception of fas, I liked them but ended up finding the anti tags which has been a blessing, there’s so many plot holes in those books and honestly i rewrite half the sentences/wording in my head while reading to make them palatable (females/males is the worst offender to my eyes), but there’s one big thing that I haven’t seen discussed in the anti blogs I’ve perused, and that is the canonical fact that the mating bond doesn’t (1/?)

always (or even usually!) choose “soulmates” or even people who are *good* for each other. Rice’s parents are the books’ most touted example, they ended up being horrible for each other in Rice’s own words. Now, if SJ/M was a better creator, this would open up a big avenue for Feyrug to realize that maybe, she and Rice are not as perfectly compatible as she thinks. But instead, that aspect is completely ignored, and actually makes the “mating bond” thing even more nonsensical than it (2/?)

already is. If it’s so widely acknowledged that the mating bond often doesn’t mean shit in terms of actual compatibility and love, and is just there to facilitate “optimum breeding” (blech), then why is it constantly held up as this end-all, be-all of romance? Why is it so goddamned important? Lucy’s dead gf should be far more important to him than Ela/ine, from a purely emotional standpoint, yet we see him losing his mind over this girl he’s never met just because “she’s his mate.” It’s (3/?)

all so contradictory, and I should know better now than to expect rational thought in these books, but it’s such a lost opportunity that could be explored so well in the hands of a better writer. TL;DR The mating bond holds no emotional significance even in SJ/M’s own canon beyond making those possessive and territorial “fae” “males” even more violent. (4/4)

YES. EXACTLY. all that riceman and faerug think about is sex, when to have sex, where to have sex, how to have sex, etc. their entire relationship begins and ends with sex. and the overuse of “mate” not only trivializes all other relationships in the books, it makes them all pointless. does amren have a mate, since she was an angel prior to transforming in the cauldron? why do humans have mates (as evidenced by faerug being riceman’s mate, nesta being cassian’s mate, and elain being lucien’s mate) if it’s a fae-only thing? from what i know, riceman knew that faerug was his mate for years–a lot of stans argue that faerug was dreaming of him bc of her paintings and some other thing that i don’t remember bc it was kinda dumb–but she was human. if she stayed human, would they still be mates? how does mating with a human guarantee the best offspring will be produced? i could rant about this all day, but you get my point. 

also worth noting: mating bonds are (supposedly) very rare, which doesn’t explain why the bond exists at all. what do people do if they never meet their mate? do they have children, knowing they won’t be as ~powerful~ if they’d been mates? why do faerug, nesta, and elain have mates? riceman and co are centuries old, so they’ve gone centuries without producing children? if children are that important to fae, they should’ve been producing children all this time? why weren’t any of them married before faerug, nesta, and elain were born? is this one of those gross situations where people know who their mates are centuries before they’re even born? it’s clear sj/m didn’t plan ahead bc remember how she said that nesta was going to be mates with someone else (lucien, iirc) but then sj/m wrote her into the story and declared nesta and cassian couldn’t get away from each other? 

ugh. i’ll stop now. tl;dr: the mating bond is moronic. 

#ask #trashprinxe #anti sjm #anti acotar

[theladyofdeath]

Remembering the Fawn

ACOTAR. Elrielucien. Canon.

I’m trying to work on more canon stories. I’m addicted to AUs, and they have taken over my blog. Anyway, here is a little dabble I wrote this morning. Enjoy!

Elain felt hollow.

Most days, she felt like she was making progress. Since the war, and becoming immortal, she had grown into the woman she never thought she would be while trying to refind herself all at the same time. She longed to retake her innocence, to find it within whatever black hole it had fallen into and reclaim it. The old Elain was still there, but she was buried beneath layers of terror and destruction.

She sat in her garden, surrounded by the beauty of the nature that she had created, unable to enjoy it. Azriel was sitting next to her on the stone bench that he and Cassian had assembled for her, dressed in his casual wear, keeping quiet as she stared into nothingness.

She felt better when he was near her, even when neither of them said a word. Safer. A little less like she would float off into oblivion.

She had gotten little sleep the night before as memories of her, Truth-teller, and the King of Hybern haunted her dreams.

“Would you like to talk?” he asked, at last. Elain knew him well enough to know that he was actually saying, if you need to let it out, I will listen.

Elain gave him somewhat of a smile, at least she made an attempt. She was trying to get better, trying to find her way back to the happiness and joy she once thrived on. But often, she failed.

Azriel didn’t seem to mind, though. That was why she spent her days around him, why she chose him for company. He simply didn’t care. She didn’t have to pretend.

“No,” she said. “Thank you. You may talk, though, if you wish.”

Shadows hovered around his shoulders as his wings shuddered from behind him.

His warrior facade broke, and Elain could tell he was thinking of something, anything, to say. “I -“

As soon as he began, he finished. His lips snapped shut, and that’s when she heard his approach.

Lucien was dressed in black pants, brown boots, and a green jacket that made his features stand out handsomely.

Elain dipped her head in welcome as Azriel rose to his feet.

“May I have a moment with Elain?” Lucien asked, watching Azriel.

Azriel’s broad arms crossed over his chest. “I believe that is a question for Elain.”

He dipped his head. “Of course. Elain?”

She glanced up at Azriel. “Thank you for joining me.”

“Always,” he said, quietly, before sinking into the shadows.

She knew he was still around, knew he was lingering nearby in case she grew overwhelmed. He did that often, and Elain wondered two things. The first was why Azriel didn’t have anything better to do with his free time than look after her. The second was if she was so broken that she needed constant support. She hated being broken, hated the sadness that corroded her soul. She hated the fact that everyone treated her like a broken porcelain doll, while equally terrified of what would happen to her if they stopped.

Lucien looked around, unsure he was really gone, before gesturing to the bench. “May I sit?”

Elain nodded, and as he took a seat, she said, “You were gone for a long while.”

A few months, if she was counting the passing days correctly.

“I was,” he agreed. “There is a lot of world out there. A lot to see.”

“Did you enjoy your travels?” She asked, surprised at the normalness of her voice.

Lucien smiled, and even with the scar that ran across his eye, she had to admit he was awfully handsome in his own unique way. “Yes, thank you. How have you been?”

Since the war, were his underlying words.

Some days are better than others. Yesterday, I went to the Rainbow with Feyre and the day before Cassian and Nesta took me to the theater. Today, I didn’t want to get out of bed. But she didn’t want to tell him any of that. Instead, she said, “I have always wanted to see the continent. I have always wanted to see everything.”

“Well,” Lucien smiled, gracefully, “you have plenty of time to, whenever you are ready.”

Whenever I am ready. I have all the time I could want, because I will never grow old. I will live forever, until I end it myself or until I am slaughtered in war.

Elain shuddered at the voice that entered her mind and told her horrible, pointless things.

Lucien must have noticed, because his smile faded. She knew he had a thousand questions, knew that he wanted her so badly to feel the bond that he swore connected them.

But she didn’t. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want to, because Lucien was kind and lovely in every way that a man should be. Perhaps she needed to completely heal first. He wouldn’t want her as she was, anyway. Broken. Unfit. Lost.

“I’ll be staying for a while,” he said, after she never responded. “For a few weeks, if you would like to join me for dinner one of these evenings.”

“That would be lovely,” Elain replied, almost absent-mindedly.

Lucien smiled, and stood, and bowed his head in respect. “I will leave you to your garden, Elain, and I will see you soon.”

She watched him walk away, the boy of Autumn among her brightly colored roses and tulips, until he was gone.

She didn’t have to look behind her to know that Azriel had reappeared.

“I’m okay,” she told him, because he would never ask, but she knew he wanted to.

He simply sat down next to her, and held out a cup of tea, which she humbly accepted.

Nothing else was said as the minutes turned into hours, and the sun set behind the hilltops of Velaris, as Elain Archeron tried to remember who she was.

#elain #lucien #azriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #fanfic #oneshot #dabble #elriel #elucien #canon #my writing

[getalittlecountry]

First Time Again (Epilogue)

Here’s the ending of the little story that lost it’s way. Ending the year on a really bad dry spell for writing. But my christmas fic has once again turned into a beast so I’m slowing making my way through and editing and writing it. I hope to post it in the new year (Since I’ll be in Scotland next week!)

I have to thank you guys. For encouraging me to write. Telling me that my stories, my words are worth reading. Sometimes in this crazy world I lose that aspiration to keep trying. Then I log on and see someone smile because I wrote a story they enjoyed. It makes me want to write again. So thank you.

Here’s to a new year and to new stories just waiting to be told. <3

Epilogue

SIX YEARS LATER

I stood at the counter looking out the window into the backyard. I sighed, bringing my mug of hot chocolate up to my mouth. It had been a quiet six years with my mate and now husband. My ring sparkled in the light of the sun. A quiet but amazing six years. We never settled, we traveled a lot our first few years together. Cassian took me to his favorite places.

He proposed in Texas, under a big blue sky. I didn't even have to think about my answer. Yes was out before he could even finish his question.

Our wedding was small. Feyre, Rhysand, Az and Elain all flew out to have the ceremony in the same spot he proposed. I fell in love with that little field and the big Texas sky, so Cassian said it was the only place he knew we could get married. With wild flowers all around us and our family and friends there to support us. Az even got ordained online and officiated the wedding while Rhysand and my sisters stood around us.

It was beautiful and intimate. I wore the red dress I saw in my vision, the wind picking it up as Cassian waited for me at the end. A small flower crown sat on my head as I walked towards my future, my mate, I couldn't stop smiling. Because my dreams were all coming true. This was more perfect, more surreal than any big wedding I could've planned in the coming months. I realized I didn't care about the wedding.

I just wanted to be married to my best friend. To my mate, my soul bonded. No more girlfriend boyfriend. Husband and wife. I was going to spend my life with him and I wanted to make it official. Life was short, I knew that better than anyone else after what Tomas put us through.

I told him that much in my vows. Cassian cried and so did I. Feyre was a mess and Rhys held her as we gave each other our hearts. We already gave each other our souls the moment we touched. Now we would never be without each other. It was the most magical moment I had ever experienced in my life.

When Az went to announce us as husband and wife, he shocked me by calling us Mr. and Mrs. Acheron. Cassian smiled as I looked at him, mouth hanging open. He wanted my last name because he never felt apart of his family. His mom never cared and while he had grown close to Lucien and Beron he still wasn't one of them.

"I've known your family for as long as I've been alive. I want to be a part of it," he said softly as we stood there, our rings sparkling in the sun. Azriel smiled, watching us as I took in my new husband.

"Your sisters already told me it's fine. They want me to be an Acheron too."

More tears fell as I kissed him again, my entire heart bursting at the seams. My fingers cupped his cheek as I pulled back, "you've always been part of our family, Cass. But you're officially an Acheron now."

His answering smile left me breathless, with tears shining in his eyes. Feyre captured the moment in a picture, then surprised us a few months later with the painting she rendered of that perfect moment. The two of us standing in an open field, our eyes locked on each other.

We traveled for our honeymoon. Stopping in little tiny towns that were barely a spec on our maps. We didn't sight see, we spent our days in a bed and breakfast learning new things about each other. We spent our nights wrapped in each other's arms, tangled in sheets and knowing the danger was far behind us. We had a life to live, a future set out for us. It was the perfect honeymoon.

It was the perfect ending to the story of us.

We came back to Velaris, to the house Cassian insisted I keep. My home, the one I created with my sisters. My sisters who set out and found their own lives. Feyre and Rhysand were happy and more in love than any mates I had ever seen. Their imprint came once the shadows were chased away. No one remembered her past life.

Elain was off with someone she met when she decided to join Feyre at school. He was sweet and he truly loved her. My sister got lucky and didn't get sucked into the whirlwind of supernaturals. I loved my life, but I was glad Elain could be normal. I was happy she was off in her own world of sunshine and flowers.

I set my mug down, thinking back to all the moments I had with Cassian. All the moments that made up for those fifteen years without him. He held my hand when I saw the Grand Canyon, he laughed while I marveled at the streets filled with beads in New Orleans. He held me as I stood at my favorite singers grave. We snuck out one morning and laid down on the beach, making love before the sun came up. We had gone on so many adventures together. I couldn't believe how lucky I had gotten. To fall in love with my best friend.

To marry the man of my dreams.

And now. We had a new adventure waiting for us.

"Good morning love," Cassian's arms wrapped around my waist as his chest pressed against my back. I took in a breath and smiled as he kissed my neck, "sleep well?"

We had been home for a month now and he still asked me if I slept well. I giggled as his fingers pressed into my hips, "yes I slept well," I took in a deep breath. I took his hand and pressed it against my stomach, "we slept well."

Cassian went stiff. I felt him take in a breath and suddenly his heart lurched into overdrive. I still felt it beside my own, I always would. It was my favorite thing, his heart beating beside mine. I waited for him to say something, but the silence stretched on. I turned my head to look at him, but he spun me around completely instead.

"Nesta." He said my name, the question there in his eyes. I laughed, tears filling my eyes. His hand was still against my stomach, "are you sure?"

I nodded, "I went to the doctor because I was late and the smell of your cooking was making me sick. She called me last night --" he cut me off. Pressing his lips to mine.

When I pulled back he was smiling, "Nesta."

I laughed, kissing him and then nodding, "I'm pregnant, Cass. We're pregnant."

Cassian knelt down, well more like fell to his knees, and pressed his nose against my stomach. I couldn't help but laugh as he pressed soft butterfly kisses against his shirt. I could feel his tears as I ran my fingers through his hair. He took in a deep breath as he held me for a moment longer.

Then he stood up without warning. He lifted me up and spun me around. We hadn't had that talk about kids yet, but I could feel his happiness. He hugged me tightly, kissing me again and again. His hands framed my face.

"I knew it was coming. My vision," he whispered against my lips, the vision he saw all those years ago when we first touched playing in both our minds, "I just didn't know when. Nesta. A baby."

I waited a moment and then his eyes found mine, "are you happy?"

"Happy?" He laughed as picked me up, setting me on the counter and kissing me harder, pressing his body into mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and took in a deep breath, "I am so in love with you, Nesta. And now you're having my baby. I never knew. I never thought."

Tears filled his eyes and I smiled, leaning my forehead against his. I pressed my hand to his cheek and kissed right under his eye, then under his other one. When he opened his eyes I shook my head. I could hear his doubts, his fears.

And I wanted nothing more than to chase them all away, "you're going to be an amazing father. Mr. Acheron. You are my mate, my husband," I held the hand he wore his ring on, "and I love you. And this baby will love you. You saw it yourself. Before I ever thought we'd get here."

A tear fell down his cheek slowly, "I never thought I could love you more than I have these last seven years. And yet I think there is no end for the love, for the total adoration I have for you."

I smiled, "I love you too."

He kissed me, making me squeal as he picked me up and carried me back towards our bedroom, "I say we spend all day celebrating our newest adventure."

I laughed as he laid me down, pressing kissing against my skin. I knew he already had the day off, so did I. I planned it this way, it's why I had waited until this morning to tell him, instead of doing it last night. Cassian's hand traveled up my side, his shirt barely covering my thighs as he moved between them. I couldn't help but sigh with happiness as he loved me.

And maybe the world was free of darkness, maybe we had saved our kind. The shadows were gone, there wasn't a reason for us to fight anymore. But that was a small speck of what we had found together. We had been crafted for each other. Our hearts, our souls lined up in a way no one else's did.

In this moment I knew the darkness would never win. Not when I had found Cassian, when I had finally reunited with my best friend. No the darkness, the evil Tomas had tried to bring into this world could never win. Because we had one thing he would never have.

We had love.

And it was enough to save the world.

#nesta #nesta acheron #nesta x cassian #cassian #nessian #nessian fanfiction #I love my nessian #acotar #acowar #acotar fanfiction #acowar fanfiction #acomaf #acomaf fanfiction #AU fanfiction #first time again

[writing-fool]

mlqc | think of you somehow

I recently thought to start incorporating Shaw too. So, here is his debut on my page! I’m currently working on a fantasy!au for Kiro, a harrypotter!au for Victor and a couple of other things. Unfortunately, those will have to wait a little, since I have an entrance exam coming up next week. I have another thing queued up for the day after this, so stay tuned!

Someone in the discord group had to help me for Gavin; I didn’t have too much inspiration for that one...

As always, enjoy!

Love,

R.

Warning(s): profanity, kinda. slight suggestive content

Victor

we all know Victor’s a huge tsundere who never learnt how to express his feelings in a normal way that doesn’t give you a headache.

i swear, why do i love him so much 

he never gets needy, or so he says he sulks when you don’t give him his goodbye kiss after handing over a report at LFG

aaaand he needs a morning kiss before leaving for work anyways Victor doesn’t get needy

you’re his little recharge mechanism though, his little charging pod i’m currently imagining a roomba pfft

even he, a magical, genius CEO, gets exhausted sometimes

it’s not always fun. sure, he’s a total capitalistic tool, but business meetings with old men who think they can earn investments while ‘subtly’ looking down on him for his age aren’t a doozy.

don’t get me wrong, Victor never loses his composure, and due to being an extrovert (he’s not loud, but he’s not a person who gets energy from being alone perse, imo. besides, he’s a good leader, so extrovert seems likely, although he has a lot of introvert traits too.) he’s genuinely good at socialising

doesn’t mean he always likes it.

you often notice when he’s tired 

when he gets home, you’ll usually be there already because your work just ends sooner on most days. he’ll set down his suitcase, hang his coat in the little closet by the door, take his shoes off, and prepare dinner

you’re probably kind of just there, chatting with him about his day while he cooks

he doesn’t allow you to work with knives at home because he’s overprotective you hurt yourself once

you might help a little, or get some work done by the table. Victor also had a piano put in the living area of the open complex penthouse, so you’ll play a tune sometimes. seems like he likes classical the most

Victor’s at-home appearance is a little different from his usual one. he still looks pretty clean and put-together, but he sheds his blazer (and vest) and socks. you two have matching slippers, so Victor wears his grey slippers with little cat faces on them (you have little beige slippers with dog faces on them)

when cooking, Victor rolls up his sleeves or switches to a v-neck sweater (during winter). his hair’s a bit fluffier than it usually is. all in all, a relaxed look.

after dinner, he’ll disappear for a little bit, doing some work before he it gets too late because he wants to spend time with you

usually, you’re lounging on the couch, reading or watching tv unless there’s a deadline then you’re a total mess working until late at night AND VIC HATES IT

he’ll come back into the living room from his home office, come up behind the sofa and just hug you while leaning down

“Hey handsome, you tired?” you ask. You reach your hand up, scratching the soft hairs at the nape of Victor’s neck while a relieved sigh passes through his lips.

Victor moves to the couch with you, and you know he’s Done with work for the day. he doesn’t even say anything, just relishes in your presence

he gets a bit touch-starved on occasions like these, so he’ll sit on the sofa and just pick you up and plop you on his lap. 

but like, in a koala way. that makes very little sense, huh. you’ll be straddling him, pressing your chest up against his and put your chin on his shoulder. your hands are around his neck and his are somewhere around your waist. 

you just sit there, maybe kissing a little, most likely pressing little kisses on each other’s collarbones/neck no hickies because you guys are pretty important people with quite the image well, can’t say it never happened before though, can you~

Victor’s totally in his safe spot here, so if he does say something in this moment, it’s not some guarded/sarcastic comment. he’s vulnerable and honest, so “I love you”s are not rare at all here. 

he might purr if you scratch his head. maaybe. don’t ask whether author Ré sees Victor Li as a cat...

10/10 Victor will carry you to bed like this. brush your teeth before because there’s no way this man is letting you go. 

Lucien

uhh to this day, i don’t think anyone really knows the extent of Lucien’s thoughts

like, in a sense, he’s a lot more guarded than, say, Victor, but they do say the best lies are ones shrouded in truth so the feelings he shows outwardly may actually resemble his actual ones atm

so...i wouldn’t say he gets very needy at all. not according to the standard definition, anyways

if he wants a kiss, he steals one from you. if he wants a hug, he’ll fluster you by backhugging you. if he wants to make out, he’ll push you against the nearest surface and steal your breath away. if he wants something more, he’ll make sure to rile you up until you’re in the mood for ehem. my fingers must’ve slipped...

Lucien’s modus operandi is definitely ‘take what i want when i want it’ in your relationship WITH CONSENT. HE’S NOT AN ASS.

he comes on strong, he’s smooth and he’s devilishly handsome. as a result, he’s often initiating any affection you guys have. 

so, while he’s not necessarily needy, he can’t shake the idea that maybe you don’t want him like he wants you. Lucien get that thought out of your head you two are domestic goals. he was stuck in a period of unrequited love for a while, sort of, so he thinks that he could handle being the one in the relationship that loves the other more. 

but the thought of you not loving him as uncontrollably, frighteningly, irrevocably as he loves you scares him to the very core of his being. because he’s in deep. 

there’s also the factor of him knowing that he doesn’t deserve you after all he’s done. but yet, you’re here with him.

so...Lucien knows it’s childish when he drops his head onto your lap while you’re reading on the couch Lucien: *sees your lap* it’s free real estate

he pretends it’s because he wants to take a nap. but actually he wants to see whether you’re affectionate when he’s not the one instigating it. 

either you’re just too embarrassed to do so when he’s taking initiative, or you’re not all that into him. i wrote about Luci’s love language being touch, so he probably sees you not touching him as a sign that you don’t love him

i’m not saying it’s a dealbreaker if you don’t like physical affection, but it’d take longer for him to open up to someone who’s not comfortable with his touch

anyways, almost immediately after he closes his eyes, you thread your fingers through his soft hair, raking them lightly over his scalp.

“You must be truly tired, falling asleep like this. Poor Lucien.Take care of yourself, my foolish professor.” and his heart shatters in Soft™

slowly, you shift to bend down, and Lucien feels your soft lips kissing his forehead, his nose, his cheek and finally landing on his lips. he smiles in that last one.

it’s not a sensual kiss, just an innocent, loving one. and Luci realises that yeah, you’re just as gone for him as he is for you. Maybe, you’re not the caged butterfly in this relationship...

he actually dozes off to the feeling of your hands in his hair, sometimes moving to gently brush a thumb over his cheek, sometimes pulling away to flip a page in your book. 

when he wakes up, there’s a blanket covering him and a soft pillow under his head

the hazy, irrational part of him makes him jump up, thinking you’ve gone after all. maybe it was all just a dream. one too good to be true.

but the melodic humming in the kitchen and the mugs filled with piping hot tea on the coffee table tell him you’re real, and you’re here with him

afterwards, Lucien naps on your lap more often. they’re his favourite treat

sometimes, you read to him, lulling him to sleep with your voice

honestly, domestic moments like this almost make Lucien want to cry out in joy because he never thought this was something he’d ever have.

well, they did say to treasure the little things in life...

Gavin

i’d say Gav’s a good 6.83 on the needy scale

he could be a 7.91 to be honest, so he has needy potential, but this man’s too shy to be needy

i mean, if you ever kiss him or hold his hand in public, his ears turn red and he’s an incoherent mess for like 10 minutes.

proceed with caution. or not. muahahaha

i think in a way, he grew up with the notion that he was a nuisance too yes, yes, we all want to deck Gavin’s dad in the face so he’s afraid to be vulnerable and needy with you.

MC: *pats Gavin’s hair.* this bad boy can fit so many daddy issues in it

ANYWAYS, the most this baby does is call you when he misses you

“I-I just wanted to hear your voice, okay?”

doesn’t really initiate a ton of affection either. 

again, he could...but he holds back. also he’s just so respectful of your boundaries and would rather have you indicate what you like in the relationship.

honestly he loves it when you snuggle up to him anyways soooooo...

but there are times when even Birdcop completely breaks and just needs you to be there for him

Gav does value communication, so he will actually ask for cuddles if he’s THAT needy such a healthy relationship dynamic

doesn’t happen a lot, but when it does...

you’ll be at home when he comes home from a mission. he’s had a pretty intense day, and now he just wants to unwind with you

this darling sheepishly walks up to you.

and as you turn around to greet him, he’ll ask 

“Can...I hold you?”

you drop EVERYTHING you’re doing because the moment he asks for hugs, it’s serious.

cuddles with Gavin are a 100% engagement kind of thing. you can’t do anything else, you’re stuck in his arms for a while

you guys usually move to the rug in the living room. not the sofa, which seems weird, but Gavin’s a tall gangly boy, measuring at 181 cm or 5′11″ I’m using the imperial system for you guys *grumble*

the sofa is just not big enough to fit his long legs comfortably when he’s laying down, and his neck hurts 

also, it’s not optimal for big bear hugs

Why not use the bed? i hear you ask. BECAUSE IT’S NOT RIGHT.

anyways, on extra effort days, you’ll make a pillow fort, but usually he just takes a pillow, a blanket and flops on the floor

cuddle hours are spent talking. no phones, maybe some music, but all-in-all they’re just times to open up, which is kind of rare for someone so rough around the edges

he turns to absolute putty when you start rubbing his stomach under his shirt this is canon don’t @ me

“Mmm...don’t do that,” he whines groans.

“You seem to be enjoying it, though?”

“Mm...no.” you liar.

honestly in like a realistic, domestic setting, a relationship with Gavin would be one of the healthiest ones within the five boys. 

he cherishes you so much, and definitely tries his best to be open with you, even though he’s experienced things that make trusting others difficult.

because if there’s one person in the whole wide world he would trust, it’d be you. 

Kiro

needy? you mean, Kiro all day, every day?

this boy loves you with all he has and the day he doesn’t show you how loved you are and how much he literally worships the ground you walk on is the day hell freezes over.

kissing, hugging, being cutesy, gifts, matching clothing, fun outings, food. ANYTHING

to be honest, he likes being with you in general, and would probably never leave your side if he didn’t have to

Kiro trusts you enough to share his entire world with you, fully knowing that he’s taking the risk of exposing himself like this. he knows that if this doesn’t work out, he’ll never be able to enjoy his world again because you’re so ingrained in it.

but the thought of not committing to you with his entire being doesn’t even cross his mind obviously, y’all are endgame so don’t even try to break up with this pupper

he tries to make up for your busy schedules with extra affection most of the time too

but actually, Kiro doesn’t just resort to hugging you in his arms, peppering kisses all over your face and not letting you go for hours when he’s lonely although he does do this. it’s just not something he does when he reaaally missed you. 

when he’s having a bad day and needs you the most, he’ll drag you out for some hotpot at night

it sounds silly, doesn’t it? but over a steaming pot of broth with various dishes, he sees your face and he feels at home. i mean, he loves food, he loves you. what’s better than a combination of both?

you laugh, chat and be as loud as you want. Kiro doesn’t have to disguise himself in the little shop at 2 am

the restaurant owner loves you guys, and gives you free beef on many occasions

he thinks you guys remind him of him and his wife when they were younger, although he jokes that Kiro’s a just a tad more handsome than he used to be~

Kiro likes feeding you and loves how you used to be so embarrassed about it. nowadays, you laugh and accept the food like you’re used to it, and somehow, that makes his heart soar

you take the long way home, walking back to your large shared flat under the night sky

Loveland City’s never fully quiet, but at least the people at that time don’t bother him. they’re either too drunk, or too stuck in their own thoughts. let’s face it, people who have their life together don’t wander around sober and alone at 3 am.

Kiro sometimes misses being invisible, but he also knows that he’s doing good by being who he is in this life. being a celebrity is tough, but intimate moments like these do kind of make it bearable

he holds you by the waist, enjoying the view with a serene smile and a full stomach by the view, he means you for the most part

“Hmm...Miss Chips, do you know how beautiful you look right now?”

your lipstick’s worn off, sweat’s cooling down on your face and your makeup’s smudged, but in that moment, Kiro thinks you’re the most ethereal being in the whole universe.

because you’re the only one who he would want to do this with. you’re the only one who would enjoy the night with him, stranded in this strange, thick atmosphere of melancholy and happiness.

one time, maybe a few months ago, it rained when you two exited the hotpot joint

instead of buying umbrellas at a nearby convenience store, you ran down the streets, jumping in puddles and laughing your asses off

Kiro swears he fell in love with you all over again that day.

Shaw

yah...i never really know what to call Shaw’s personality

he’s kind of a tsundere, but not in the way Victor is? he teases the shit out of you when he has feelings for you, but he’s also kind of a douche about it

and he’ll probably never admit how precious you are to him also he probably thinks he doesn’t deserve you

i love this little bastard but i get SO fed up with him

this boy doesn’t even actually take you on proper dates

like, it’s either university café, impromptu graffiti trips which to be honest might be an actual date or going to a club which could be a date but when you’re in a relationship with Shaw it kind of isn’t bcs he’s there 7/7

anyways, he doesn’t do the whole ‘love’ thing very well. he’s fine with PDA, so he’ll full on snog you in the club or reach over the table to lick whipped cream off of your face last time you’re ordering a frappuccino with whipped cream 

but he does it mostly to get a reaction

it’s not insincere, but he also doesn’t view PDA as a loving gesture perse

will not be honest with his words. don’t expect it. he’s built a shield around himself and therefore literally doesn’t know how to talk to someone kindly.

but...he tries.

Shaw’s most vulnerable and needy moment is the early morning

it’s not at night, cos he spends nights out partying or having a one-night stand what? he’s a healthy, viral boy!

his one-night stands never saw him in the morning because he’s honestly the type to hit and run i’m sorry how was i supposed to say this or alternatively to kick his partner out at 4 am

but you’re his first actual love, and even he knows you don’t kick your lover out if you give a damn about the relationship 

it was a big step for him to feel comfortable with you...but he doesn’t regret it one bit he probably won’t tell you that though

anyways, Shaw’s groggy morning voice makes you delirious BUT that’s a little besides the point

you wake up in each other’s arms

if you wake up first, you’ll probably stare at his face for a while until he does and inevitably says “What? Am I that handsome, huh?” secretly thrives off of your compliments 

if he wakes up first, he’ll probably wake you up by tickling you or touching you in some way ehem innocently Minor made me clarify it

any way it happens, you guys participate in some good morning spoonage

Shaw loves burying his head in your neck to press kisses and love bites there, smell your scent and hide the blushing face that is so very rare

finally one thing the brothers have in common

he’s aware he’s being a little too sappy for his own liking, but it feels wrong to ruin the morning mood with a snarky comment when you look so soft under the beams of sunlight flooding his bedroom

so he says nothing, and keeps you wrapped in his arms

in a moment of serene bliss, you hum and say “I love you.” 

as a response, this boy squeezes you a little tighter, buries his head a tad deeper in the crook of your neck

“Shut up.”

you know him well enough to know he’s feeling embarrassed, so you wriggle out of his grasp and turn around

Shaw whines a little when he’s forced to loosen his grasp

you look straight at his face, finding him even cuter when his mischievous smirk is replaced by a pouty scowl

“I love you, I love you, I love you I love you I love you love you loveyouloveyou,” you repeat, watching his face grow redder and redder

he groans audibly. “Shut up!” but he can’t help but smile at your gleeful giggles

“What? I do! I love you so much, Shaw.”

he kisses you to shut you up, but it’s not one of those fast, rough, wild kisses

it’s...tender. 

he cradles you in his arms, trying to convey how he feels through a kiss

“‘Love you,” he mutters against your lips.

“What was that?” you tease him.

“Nothing.”

“Aw, come on! One more time?” 

“Nope.” yup, he tries. 

I’ve been doing a lot of picture editing for all of my posts...but I think these will be the official ‘character separators’ since I don’t have the energy or will to make new ones for every fanfic...post banners are still a thing for every post though.

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #kiro zhou #victor lee #gavin bai #lucien xu #xu mo #bai qi #mr love #mr love game #mr love queen's choice #zhou qilou #li zeyan #love and producer #evol x love #mlqc imagine #mlqc headcanon #mlqc hcs #mlqc hc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc x reader #mlqc victor x reader #mlqc lucien x reader #mlqc kiro x reader #mlqc gavin x reader #mlqc mc #mlqc shaw

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Wrack and Ruin

Part I

Part II

Part III

Joseph is cheerful at breakfast and Napoleon is congenial. Arthur considers Napoleon's nocturnal visit a strange fever dream. He considers most of the man's nocturnal visits strange fever dreams. It is easier to parse them as the imaginings of his evidently disturbed mind than things he allows because he has become fond of the wretched man.

Joseph says, 'we will start directly after breakfast. Better to get in a full day I think.'

'Just the three of us?' Napoleon asks. 'Wouldn't a wider search party be better?'

'Unfortunately it's planting season so most everyone is occupied. We're still making up for the weather a few years ago. Did you get red snow? We got red snow. In July!'

Napoleon brightens, 'oh yes. We got that. I thought that was just a result of some of the strange magic happening on our side of the pond.'

'Volcano,' Arthur says as he butters toast. 'I read a thing on it.'

Napoleon makes a face at him, 'be more precise. What thing when?'

'Hm, Royal Society, a year ago? This time? Or in the autumn? Whenever their annual journal comes out. I was reading it and there was something or other about a volcano.'

Napoleon looks to Joseph, 'volcano, brother.'

'Indeed, brother, volcano.'

Arthur looks up from his toast. Both Bonapartes stare at him. He takes a bite. Chews very slowly and upon swallowing says, 'you're hair is sticking up.' Both reach up to check. Arthur stares at them. Napoleon is the first to break with a grin.

'You're wicked, Arthur Wellesley. Positive rascal.'

'Pot, kettle,' he waves his knife.

Joseph turns in his chair and says with firmness, 'tell me of mother.'

Napoleon, switching into Italian, 'mother is well. She remains in Rome with Fesche.'

'Good, good. She is keeping her spirits up?'

'She is, though I have heard worrying things about the company she keeps. Lucien wrote me about it.'

Joseph raises his eyebrows. Napoleon bats his arm. Lucien and I, he declares, are quite made up.

'I don't believe it.' Joseph turns to Arthur, still speaking in Italian, 'do you believe it?'

Arthur shrugs.

Joseph takes this as confirmation of bias, 'he doesn't believe it either.'

'He doesn't speak Italian,' Napoleon replies in French. 'He knows. He is on my side.'

'Who?'

'Wellesley.'

'Something for the history books.'

Napoleon leans over and flicks Joseph's nose. Joseph returns the sentiment and the rest of break is spent with the brothers bickering over who Lucien favours most between the two of them. Arthur is deeply relieved when Napoleon finally stands and says that it is time to look for devils. Joseph spreads his hands, 'by all means, run my table.'

Napoleon, although not in a grudging manner but certainly stilted, says 'my apologies. Force of habit.'

Joseph is mollified for the moment. Dabs his lips with his napkin before standing and leading the way to the gun room.

--

Napoleon is not sure what he expected when they set out into the Pine Barrens but given the name and the rough translation from Wellesley he had not expected quite so many trees. He takes up the point of confusion with Joseph who explains that the name comes from the poor soil. He says it is not sufficient for most plants to thrive and so we have pine trees. Pines and pines and pines. The monotony of the forest, which is wide and never ending, creates a disjointed effect.

It is nothing like the Shrubbery in Woodford with it's cool, quiet, claustrophobic English atmosphere. No, no this is a little like some parts of Austria. But not quite. He attempts to think of a comparison but all he calls to mind are either lacking something or have too much of something. But, as he is not botanist, he does not wrestle with the subject for long.

'I think it was loitering around your estate last night,' Napoleon says as they stop for Joseph to tie a piece of ribbon to a tree. 'I heard something hissing very early this morning.'

Arthur glances, sidelong, towards him.

'I happened to be up.'

Joseph rejoins them nodding, 'Yes I've heard it around before. I dislike that it can fly. Makes me want to reinforce the windows.'

Napoleon is uncomfortable with that reminder. Indeed, if it can fly then it can reach their first floor rooms. What he had seen had been on the ground but who is to say it had not been up in the air spying. He looks towards Arthur who is scanning the trees with a resolute expression.

Joseph explains the history of the Pine Barrens to them as they continue to pick their way through the forest.  They had forgone horses as they were tracking and it is best to be on foot for such work. Joseph had also said that many of the accounts he and his friend Nicholas Biddle has accumulated over recent months have most encounters occurring to people on foot. Being without sturdy animals adds a layer of unease to the group.

'There are people who make their living out in these woods,' Joseph says. 'We may run across them or signs of them. They are friendly if wary. They do not trust easily but, in my experience, they will cause no trouble to us. It is lucky we have his grace here to translate. I have run into them on my own and by the grace of God one of their wives was an Acadian woman and had something like French. Down from Nova Scotia. We made piece-meal sense. It worked.'

'How do they survive?' Napoleon wonders. It is clear that the sand beneath foot is barren of nutrients. What grows here much suck bare minimal of survival from dusty earth.

'There is some industry. Bog iron is mined although that is slowing down of late. It was apparently quite big thirty, forty years ago. There are mills here and there, paper, saw, grist and the like.' Joseph hums for a moment as he considers the forest around them. 'I think, if someone were to be enterprising, they could have a fair go at a sawmill. But you would have to be intelligent about it but I do believe it entirely manageable.'

'Not going into trade are you?' Napoleon teases.

'No, no. It was just a conversation I had with Mr. Biddle recently. We usually talk banks. He picks my brain about France's and I am woefully inadequate when it comes to answering his questions.'

Spying Arthur's quietude and pensive features Napoleon asks him what it is he is so concerned about. This is merely one creature. We've dealt with more.

'I dislike the quiet,' Arthur says. 'I do not trust a quiet forest.'

Napoleon agrees and the three find themselves glancing over their shoulders more. The peaceful transforms into the sinister. It is the unheimlich, the familiar becoming the terrifying. Horror in a place of safety. Perhaps a bit much to apply it to a forest that is, for two of them, foreign. But Napoleon likes the word and so uses it when he can.

He had first applied it to his home after the Fairy Incident in Woodford. Everything was uncanny, then. What had been safe bore memories of terror. The Bertrand children regularly woke crying. He wishes he had the word earlier in his life. He might have been able to explain things with greater ease to Josephine and Louise.

Things can make the familiar alien. The obvious one for him is war. It gets worse, too, the more he is removed from it. He had mentioned it to Bertrand who had said that it is because the body understands it is safe now to be weird. The way bodies are weird. He had said, It is how you become ill only after big events. It's as if your body knows it is safe to be weak.

//

It is in the late afternoon that they come upon a bog. Reeds and dead, over salted tree stumps jut up from the mire. Mosquitoes, midges and a few early black flies buzz around making a nuisance of themselves.

'I haven't seen anything yet,' Arthur says waving away the pests. 'Just a damn lot of bugs.'

'July is worse,' Joseph mutters. 'Can barely go out shooting for the things. Anyway, there's not much of way through here without a boat but I do know an alternative path back so we won't be covering the same ground twice.'

To get to the path they follow the edge of the bog for half a mile and just as they turn to head back into the trees Arthur grabs Napoleon's arm.

'There,' he says. He points to tracks in the mud. 'Hoof prints. Fresh too. They'd be more shallow if the mud had time to fill them in.'

Napoleon looks around them and sees little sign of the creature then scans the trees and heavens above. All equally void. Joseph inspects the prints and confirms that they are identical to the ones he saw the previous winter.

'It clearly stood here for a time,' Joseph says. 'Judging by the depth of them.'

The three again look out to the bog. It is, baring the bugs, a peaceful place. There is a beauty in it and Arthur says that isn't it odd? A creature such as this devil admiring the view?

Returning to the forest they follow a clear hunting trail back towards the township. The pines thin the closer they get to Bordentown and the air cooler. Shoulders relax, grips on muskets more friendly. Napoleon teases Arthur about being nervous. Arthur says he is never nervous, only ever prepared. Joseph says that he remember Napoleon almost pissing himself once, as a boy on Corsica.

'With good reason,' Napoleon sagely replies. 'We were cornered by Antonia di Piero Vezzani's dog in an alleyway. I almost wet myself. You actually did.'

Leaving the Pineland they are laughing. There is relief, for a moment. Napoleon glances back towards the trees and thinks he sees something watching them. Hovering six feet above the ground. Large wings flapping. Then, gone. As if it had never been.

He returns his attention to Joseph and Arthur. Listens amiably to Joseph's stories of their youth and only corrects when absolutely necessary and not nearly as often as he usually would. The urge to take command of the narrative is only an ember, not even a flicker of a flame. The land around them worth looking at. The sky, something to admire. He looks up to clouds and blue and the gold of an afternoon sun. He wonders when he will learn how to speak to Joseph again. When they will rediscover that lost language they had as brothers.

Part IV

#writing #napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #duke of wellington #jersey devil #wrack and ruin