#even though he does everything in his power to keep them safe from lucien

[dent-de-leon]

Molly telling Lucien if he kills the Mighty Nein then their blood will be on both their hands...my heart--

[shi-daisy]

For the what if asks, what if Feyre told Elain the truth of her allegiance before the final battle? (ACOTAD) Would she betray her or would she have joined the rebels as well? Would she warn Azriel or save him silently, or would she keep quiet and leave him to his own devices?

Hello anon! Well to be honest the answer is already in text. Elain would betray Feyre and the rebels if she'd know. She did so when she had the vision and had she not been forcefully silenced until it was the end of battle, then the rebels could've lost.

Okay, so the reason Feyre does not tell Elain about her alligance is because she can tell Elain will pick the safest route to follow and for someone like her who values the little peace and serenity she's acquired after coming to Prythian, her safest option is to have Rhysand and the IC win against the rebellion

Option #1 Rhysand wins/Rebels lose (Elain backs Rhysand): Elain keeps her home, her garden, status and the IC. With Rhysand as High King she's even freed from the bond with Lucien (though he broke it months before) but this basically means she has no need for that and the only threat left is Koschei and having to deal with the torves as Nesta wouldn't bend back to Night after she left at the start of the fic. Safest option for Elain and she keeps everything she wants

Option #2 Rhysand loses/Rebels win (Elain backs the rebellion): She'd be safe from encarceration and both her sisters can vouch for her, and prove she helped the rebllion win. The new High Lord is technically her nephew and while there's a regency in place until Nyx is an adult they're shown to be merciful and even friendly toward Feyre and Mor who were traitors to Night. They'd take Elain in too and let her keep the forrest house. Azriel might or might not forgive her if Rhys and the others are gone and he also survived so there's risk to that. So a little more risk than option 1 but had she backed the rebels she'd keep peace, and her home, just not the richess and she risks losing Az either to death or if he does not forgive the bretayal.

Option #3 Rebels win/Rhysand Loses (Elain backs Night): What happened in Canon but this time with the others surviving as Amren does not pull the black hole stunt. In this scenario Elain would probably appeal to Feyre, Nesta and the regency for mercy but she's less lucky than in the previous scenario beause she was part of the problem, not the solution. They wouldn't jail her, especially if her seer powers are gone, but she wouldn't be given much power and rewards if the rebellion won and she opposed them. She'd be allowed to keep her home and thats it. Safe option to keep her life but not as cozy as the other two, especially if she loses Az and the others as well should they be punished.

Option #4 Rhysand wins/Rebels lose (Elain backs the rebellion): This is the bad ending for everyone and Elain knows it. If she still has her seer powers all three sisters would be locked in Wind until 'rehabilitated', if she's left powerless she could be executed (if Azriel does not intercede for her) or locked away elsewhere (if Azriel does intercede for her) in any case she's stuck as a prisoner, risks losing her life, relationship and even her sanity.

Feyre knows that if she tells Elain is likely the middle sister wouldn't turn away from Night. Nesta has reasons to back the rebellion aside from agreeing with them but also in the sense that if Night loses they cease to seek her out and she's free to live her life how she pleases. No more IC, no more Cassian, or Amren, or Rhysand to chase her down. For Feyre she's stopped being brainwashed so she gets rid of the man who hurt her for years on end, and atones for what she's done under his control, but for Elain there's nothing to gain if she joined the rebellion. She'd be less rich, she risks her relationship and she risks her status. She has no reason to back the rebels.

More so, Night though they'd win. They thought they had the hostages, and the makeshift cauldron, and the Illyrians and the Valkyries, the monsters, and Feyre and Rhys. We the readers know of the other courts alliance, we know the hostages escape, we know everyone's true alligance and we know Feyre is on the rebellions side. But when you see it from Night's pov they had this in the bag. Why would Elain risk it?

She has no interest in the Illyrian plight, no knowledge of the Dusk plot, and unlike Feyre she wasn't shown the consequences of Rhysand's actions in other courts. Elain in ACOTAD canon has zero reason to go against Rhysand so she wouldn't do so, in fact she'd double down if Feyre told her.

Feyre knew this. That's why she didn't say anything even if we know what happened in the final battle.

Hope this answers your question!

[taylors-fourth-cat-meow]

I think it’s funny how Feyre get mad at Tamlin for things that he didn’t even do. Like, Feyre's upset that he’s forcing her to wear dresses. But it's not really him? It’s Ianthe? He never says “you can/can’t wear this?” (Idk maybe I forgot a scene somewhere but…). She’s mad Tamlin gave her sisters to Hybern. But again, that was Ianthe and the mortal queens (the queens Feyre brought into Nesta and Elain's home, no less…). He was surprised, he didn’t know they were kidnapped. 1/2

2/2 Feyre's upset that Tamlin won’t make her high lady (even though the context of that scene is literally her saying she DOESN'T want to be high lady but I digress), even though that’s not really his choice? High Lords are magically chosen with unique connection to their land and people? He can’t FORCE the spring court magic to choose her? (And Rhysand can’t either, so Feyre's not a real high lady anyway). Like Tamlin is SUCH a shitty asshole, but not everything wrong is his fault.

Hi anon!!

See the thing is Tamlin has now become everyone's go to punching bag. If anything goes wrong its Tamlin's fault. People forget the actual villains and blame him for everything. He is the meme of the fandom...to the extent that people actually make fun of his mental health. i feel repulsed when ppl have the audacity to make fun of trauma and mental health. Everyone says he deserves to be alone and live in his beast form like the animal he is. And i just ...no . NO no one deserves that. No one deserves to go through all that alone. and tamlin has been doing that for 50 years. Its so sad what this fandom has come to.

Im my last post i quoted Ianthee's dialogue where she is trying to explain why she sold out the sisters to hybern...and its literally a whole scene when Ianthee apologizes for what she did. Tamlin was not aware of any if it!!! Nor was Lucien!! And what's funny is that it's the NC who is to blame. They brought feyre's sisters into this for their gain and then didn't even provide enough protection. Why could hybern so easily kidnap the sisters??? One of these IC twats shud have constantly been positioned there. They are feyre's sisters. Like her family...does their safety not mean anything??

In the beginning of Acomaf for tamlin and feyre's wedding, Ianthee tells that if feyre wants her family could be invited to the wedding... That tamlin would arrange for their safe travel..but feyre says she doesn't want her sisters anywhere near prythian and fey. But then when Rhysie needs help she has no issues dragging her sisters into a literal war!

Secondly about her dresses:

Understatement. I hated the monstrosity of tulle she’d selected. Tamlin had, too—though he’d laughed himself hoarse when I showed him in the privacy of my room.

Beyond that … while Tamlin was the one who paid for my everyday clothes, it was Ianthe’s eye that selected them.

Also, feyre says that she hated them but then also says she didnt have the heart to tell Tamlin beacuse he looked so happy when she wore them. But yeah he was happy when she wore his courts attire, when she wore the traditional dresses??? She says if she wore a tunic and pants it wud makd a statement. bitch what statement???? Is she forgetting that when tamlin fell in love with she was an almost starved no body huntress who only wore tunics and pants??? why do ppl think tamlin wanted her all dolled up and be the pretty wife when he fell in love with her when she was a human huntress??? the whole time feyre keeps making assumptions about how he is going to react she never actually tells him anything.

Then there are these dialogues with lucien..which clearly state thst tamlin isn't in a good state of mind either that he is also suffering from ptsd...not just from utm but for literal centuries???

“Tamlin got what I didn’t,” Lucien said softly, his breathing ragged. “We all heard your neck break. But you got to come back. And I doubt that he will ever forget that sound, either. And he will do everything in his power to protect you from that danger again, even if it means keeping secrets, even if it means sticking to rules you don’t like. In this, he will not bend. So don’t ask him to—not yet.”

“I’ve given him time,” I said. “I can’t stay cooped up in the house forever.” “He knows that—he doesn’t say it, but he knows it. Trust me. You will forgive him if his family’s own slaughter keeps him from being so … liberal with your safety. He’s lost those he cares for too many times. We all have.”

“I don’t want to marry a High Lord. I just want to marry him.” “One doesn’t exist without the other. He is what he is. He will always, always seek to protect you, whether you like it or not. Talk to him about it—really talk to him, Feyre. You’ll figure it out.”

He tells her to talk to him about it..but does she?? No! she just throws a temper tantrum.

And the high lady part...I- *sighs*

feyre only wants to be high lady once she learnt that she won't be. she just wants what she cant have like an eight year old. And its just so annoying.

(I cut out the smut cause no I won't have that shit in my post)

“I don’t know if I can handle them calling me High Lady.”

“They won’t,” “There is no such thing as a High Lady.”

[juusworld5728]

Lets talk about Azriel’s shadows...

I think that a lot of people seem to forget what Azriel’s shadows actually represent and what different reaction from them actually mean.

Lets start at the very beginning to his childhood... For the first 11 years of his life, Azriel lived in a cell with no windows or light. He was allowed to come out only for an hour a day, and to see his mother for one hour every week. There are many different ways that one can argue how Azriel came to acquire his shadowsinging abilities or whether it was something genetic (either way, its very rare). Rhysand did mention that he might’ve learned to speak to his shadows in the cell that he was kept in. Either way, his shadows are not something of his past that he necessarily wants to remember. Whether he’s appreciative of those shadows now does not reflect the fact that they were born out of fear and loneliness.

In terms of personality, it’s very important to note how he reacts to things and different people. The way that I see it, he uses his shadows as a defense mechanism. Whenever he’s in an uncomfortable situation, he tends to hide in a corner and his shadows surround him to block from sight. However, when he’s in a good situation or surrounded by certain people, they seem to go away. A lot of people see that as a bad thing, but his shadows are not only supposed to represent his powers, but also his very traumatic past. Soooo you might ask, what exactly do the shadowsinger’s shadows represent?

Well, here is my take. Those shadows in terms that are not power-based, represent that very same cell that he was locked in for the first 11 years of his life. I’m not talking about Nuala and Cerridwen here. I’m talking about his defense mechanism shadows. This wonderful male was trapped without social contact, friends, or anyone to rely on. So yeah, he will be introvert. He has a family, but that doesn't stop him from the fact that his social skills will not be the best in comparison. His shadows represent his loneliness that he feels he deserves and craves when he feels cornered. For the first 11 years of his life, that was ALL HE KNEW. When his shadows “brighten” or are nowhere to be seen, I can imagine that as being the hour he had out of his cell every day. That feeling of relief and freedom. Yes, he needs to learn to accept himself more and who he has become. However, that can be done in the sense that his shadows do not have to be around him ALL THE TIME.

Now, in terms of relationships: 

Mor: His first love. At the young age of around 19. Only 8 years after he’s been let out into society and learned his way through. Does he even know how to handle love?? Probably not. He was born a bastard and probably saw his mother being treated like shit by his father and stepmother. So I doubt love is something he believes in at this point. However, he does fall in love with her. His reaction to that? What he knows best. Avoidance. That dark cell still very present in his mind. That feeling of being very aware of how broken you are but don’t know how to fix it. He does not want to put that burden on Mor. Everything that happens between Cassian and Mor probably makes him feel even worse. Throughout the years though, he can’t help but feel happy just to be around her and in her presence (hence why his shadows disappear). It can be argued that he's known that she hasn't been interested for a while. Maybe what he truly craved wasn't the actual love that he wanted from Mor, but the feeling of love that came from her that made his shadows go away. He craved it and wanted to be around her for that feeling.

Elain: The first time that Azriel meets Elain is in the human lands. She asks him if he can truly fly. He blushes and gets flustered, and why? Do you think that maybe a lot of people haven't bothered to see him in a certain light to ask those type of questions? I mean sure he has his family, but this human girl that is supposedly terrified of him because he’s fae, asks him such a simple and light-hearted question... Slowly but surely, in ACOWAR he beings to get more comfortable with her. She’s broken but at the same time, holding on. He takes notice of a certain light that she radiates as well as her seer powers a little bit later. The first time they’re brought over to the House of Wind, she calls his scars beautiful. The importance of this scene is very overlooked. She called the thing that makes him the most insecure, induces the most amount of fear, and creates his hatred... beautiful. This woman that barely knows him has already accepted every part of him. He further loves to glance out at the garden (a place of happiness that reminds him of Elain) and loves to look at that hidden light in her eyes that makes his shadows either brighten or disappear. It’s very similar to the feeling with Morrigan, but more direct and has incentive. Now, lets talk about truth-teller (the knife that always strikes true). That is one part of himself that he has never shared with ANYONE. Why did he give her truth-teller? Because Elain has already accepted every part of him. Truth-teller is an extension to himself in a sense. Something that belongs wholly to him and makes him feel safe. He trusts Elain enough to give her a part of himself. A very vulnerable moment never seen before by Azriel. In ACOFAS, When Azriel asks about Lucien, he truly does not want to spy on him. It could be for privacy reasons because of Elain but also because he’s afraid of what he’ll see from him in terms of Elain. His siphons gutter and he stutters over his words. Now, winter solstice was a very light-hearted moment but very important as well. As we can tell, Elain is the perfect gift-giver. She gives Azriel a potion for his headaches which is perfect and very hilarious since he laughs (he’s never laughed before in Feyre’s presence). It’s very telling to Elain’s personality as being a very attentive person which amounts to her really caring about Azriel and what’s going on with him. He tends to be pretty hidden and keeps a poker face most of the time, so for her to notice the little things like that is very important. I rest my case..... for now.

Gwyn: I honestly cannot say much about this ship. What I can say are from pages I have been sent and trends I have been seeing through Azriel’s personality. It seems to me like Azriel is the least tense around people he considers his friends and brothers. Even though he's usually pretty serious anyways, the bat boys seem really comfortable with each other. When Mor was around (especially in ACOMAF), he would get worried. However, when she wasn't paying to him, his shadows would disappear (similar things happened with Elain). It seems to me like Gwyn has an outwardly fun personality and Azriel has no problem with that because he is not worried about anything happening. The most I’ve seen from the books between them is simple banter that included the rest of the friend group. When either of them talk, what I’ve seen from Azriel is amusement. That amusement results in Azriel’s shadows dancing around HIMSELF. Not anyone else. No, the shadows did not dance around Gwyn or any other person. I currently see this as a friendship and would need more build-up for me to even ship it. It seems like Azriel seems fine acting like this with people he is not worried about catching feelings with.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[princessamericachavez]

Fjorester Talk in episode 117

also known as Sofía goes buckwild and overanalyzes 10 minutes of conversation and body language.

ready?

Ok, first of all, Fjord looks so worried from the get go as he asks Jester if Lucien/Cree was speaking to her directly. 

And when she confirms it he does this little grumpy sigh

He no like it. No like it at all.

Fjord: Does it seem like he’s keying in on you in particular?

LISTEN GUYS

I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS

HOPING FJORD WOULD GET PROTECTIVE OVER JESTER CONSTANTLY GETTING SCRIED ON/MESSAGED BY LUCIEN BUT I DIDN’T THINK TRAVIS WAS ACTUALLY GOING TO DELIVER

AND HE DIIIIIID

Ok anyway he goes on about how when they see someone else scrying it’s usually just a representation of the spell and wonders if Lucien is more powerful and therefor can see the person

and then he makes a pause mid-argument

because Jester makes this face and he realizes this is upsetting her, so he quickly backtracks trying to reassure her. 

Fjord: I’m sure it’s just coincidence but...

and here’s where the idea comes and god how long has he been thinking about this???

Fjord: since we’re not in the sea... would you... want to wear this?

YES HELLO DO YOU SEE THE PARALLELS TO THAT ONE TIME HE WANTED TO GIVE HER AN EXTRA POWERFUL HEALING POTION TO MAKE SURE SHE WOULD BE SAFE??? PROTECTIVE FJORD PARALLELS!!!

and then he just brushes off the fact that he’s a huge Uk’otoa beacon everytime they are on water —baby, you died once already, don’t act like it’s whatever???

Fjord: maybe it would provide some protection if we were to keep checking in on him?

Jester: I mean... it’s worth a try. 

Of course, as she points out, Lucien has already met all of them and he could just as easily scry on any of the M9 if he wanted to, but that’s not really what Fjord is worried about, what is bothering him. Fjord knew Lucien was watching and it’s not the first time they are scried on, but he makes it clear that he’s concerned about how centered on Jester that’s been lately. 

Jester: Maybe it’ll keep me from getting seen next time I scry on him?

Fjord: I guess we’ll find out next time we try it. 

The way he chuckles softly, trying to defuse the tension, and she smiles back even though this subject clearly has her nervous??? 11/10

Jester: Thank you. 

SHE SAYS IT SO SOFTLY. SHE’S CLEARY SO TOUCHED THAT HE’S WATCHING OUT FOR HER AND HAVING HER BACK JUST LIKE HE ALWAYS DOES. 

LOOK AT THOSE HEART EYES THEY BOTH HAVE WTF

THEY ARE BOTH SO SOFT 

Fjord: Yeah. Just in case it’s not... coincidence. 

Listen there’s such a heaviness in how he says the word. 

Like the possibility of anyone —especially this very dangerous stranger with the face of a friend— purposefully targeting Jester is his worst nightmare. It probably is. 

Jester: It’s also creepy. He did say that he kind of knew me, right?

NOTICE HOW JESTER IS STILL PLAYING WITH THE AMULET IN HER HANDS??? 

Idk why but that’s getting to me. She’s so nervous with this whole thing. 

Fjord: He did?

Jester: When we got there he said he hadn’t met anyone except for me. 

OH FJORD DOESN’T LIKE THIS AT ALL

So of course Jester tries to defuse the tension talking about how she must look like through the scry

AND HE’S JUST SO IN LOVE

And so he plays along

LOOK AT THE WAY HE MAKE HER SMILE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(same, Ashley, same)

And so, more reassured by the goofiness, Jester finally puts the necklace on. 

Fjord: And of course, it’s Caleb’s...

Jester: oh

LISTEN SHE DID NOT LIKE THAT. She was clearly so excited to get a present like this from Fjord and you can see her face fall a little when it’s deviated towards someone else. 

Jester: should I ask him if it’s okay?

Fjord: Well, he gave it to me to use it..

Fjord: and you seem to need it more. 

AKA THE AMULET WAS FOR FJORD’S WELLBEING BUT THE WAY HE IS OK IS IF HE KNOWS JESTER IS PROTECTED

Jester, now that she knows this is something that he is personally choosing to transfer to her: Okay...

LOOK AT THE WAY SHE CLUTCHES IT TO HER HEART I’M DYING

Fjord: And just be careful.

Fjord: I don’t like the possibility of him keying in on you or using that connection between the two of you to manipulate something. His magic seems strange. 

LISTEN GUYS LISTEN 

THIS PART HERE IS HUGE OK?

This is the part where Fjord took 18 steps forward instead of one since Rumblecusp

Whereas before he could’ve hide his concern as something tactical, something useful that made sense and could help their mission... or could’ve hidden behind group speech to disguise his concern...

here he says “I don’t like the possibility of him keying in on you.”

here he is straight up saying “I am worried about you”

(quietly hopes Lucien does exactly that to trigger more protective fjord instincts in the future and lots of angst based shippy shenaingans)

Fjord: Alright. More adventures tomorrow. 

BECAUSE THAT’S ALL OK

THAT’S IT

HE SAID HIS PIECE, HE KEPT HER SAFE, MADE SURE SHE LAUGHED A LITTLE AND THAT’S ALL HE NEEDS... THAT AND MORE ADVENTURES BY HER SIDE

But then Jester hesitates

AND LOOK AT THAT, THE WAY SHE PULLS BACK LIKE SHE’S AFRAID IF SHE SAYS THE WRONG THING HE’LL CLOSE OFF

THE WAY HIS FACE SCRUNCHES WITH WORRY OVER WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE TROUBLING HER THAT SHE’S HESITATING TO SAY

Fjord: What?

Jester: H- How are you?

FJORD MELTING IMMEDIATELY: 

The way he goes from super concerned to extremely soft in 0.2 seconds.

(i am ashley and ashley is me)

Jester: *explaining all the very valid reasons she has to be worried about Fjord too and all the crazy shit that happened to him only a few days ago*

Fjord: *bursting with feelings of love*

seriously travis pls have some mercy of my poor yearning soul

Also I wanna talk about the way Jester brings up Avantika.

Jester: She tried to pull you into the water... you guys had a thing... it must have been weird to see her all kinda dead and stuff... was it weird? And then you killed her... again...

The way she calls them “a thing” and the way she checks if it was “weird” for him to see her as undead really says a lot to me. I think Jester never quite got over the heartbreak during the pirate arc and part of her probably still thought that Fjord harbored some sort of feelings or attraction towards Avantika. 

I think she believes whatever they two had was far more intimate than it actually was. Or, at the very least, Jester thinks it must have meant something to Fjord. 

How could she not? The whole thing had her bursting with jealousy and pain and unresolved feelings... you can tell how anxious she is around this subject but also she needs to know if he’s alright because she cares too much

Fjord: It was weird. Yeah, it was weird, for sure. I wasn’t expecting that...

HE DOESN’T EVEN REGISTER IT AS AN “EX” THING I SWEAR

Fjord: I’m alright. 

And so she finally relaxes.

Fjord: It feels like I keep trying to start newer chapters in my life and leave the old stuff behind and then it just... keeps popping up. 

Fjord: It feels like it’s hard to... pursue something new, when the past is not dealt with. 

YOU CAN’T SEE IT IN THE SCREENSHOTS BUT JESTER STARTS NODDING VERY GENTLY WHEN HE STARTS TALKING ABOUT NEW CHAPTERS AND MOVING ON 

ALSO THIS

(ashley knows what I’m talking about)

Jester: Do we need to deal with the past?

WE

SHE SAYS WE

BECAUSE AS USUAL THEY ARE A TEAM ALWAYS FIRST AND FOREMOST

AND IF THIS IS SOMETHING HE NEEDS TO DO SHE’S GOING TO HELP HIM AND BE BY HIS SIDE WITHOUT A DOUBT NO MATTER WHAT

Fjord: I think so. 

Fjord: Yeah... I want to. 

THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER WHEN HE SAYS ‘I WANT TO’. HE WANTS TO HAVE A FUTURE WITH HER. HE WANTS TO LET GO OF THE PAST SO HE CAN HAVE A FUTURE WITH HER. HE’S LETTING HIMSELF ‘WANT’ THIS AND ADMITTING IT.

Fjord: I feel like I need to close all of that before...

AND THEN HE JUST GOES THROUGH THIS BLESSED FACE JOURNEY FOR 6 ENTIRE SECONDS

LOOK AT IT

AND THE WAY SHE SLOWLY SMILES LIKE SHE MIGHT KNOW WHAT HE MEANS

LOOK AT HER OWN FACIAL JOURNEY

ASHLEYYYYYYYYYY

And so Jester jumps into action mode offering her help. 

and Fjord —once again— proves that he’s able and willing to open up to Jester about things that he’s keeping close to his chest... like Sabian. 

Fjord: I um... I actually... I put a bounty out for S-Sabian. 

IDK WHY THIS FACIAL EXPRESSION AMUSES ME THIS MUCH

THIS IS FJORD’S ‘IM ABOUT TO CONFESS SOMETHING PERSONAL TO JESTER FACE’ AND WE’VE SEEN IT BEFORE AT THE KILN AND IN RUMBLECUSP

Jester: A bo- When? How?

SHE’S SO BEWILDERED LMFAO

and a little offended that she didn’t know

and I think Fjord can tell by the way he quickly tries to excuse it as a way to keep Kotho occupied after the whole Vokodo ordeal

But Jester quickly gets back on track and starts looking for a way to help him with this. If finding Sabian is what Fjord wants —what he needs— right now, she’ll do anything to help him. 

Jester: *describing how she would be able to help Fjord*

Fjord, who never had anyone be this ride or die for him ever and who is bursting at the seems with love for this kind and wonderful woman:

Fjord: Sure.

Jester: You want me to do it?

Fjord: Yeah. 

THOSE HEART EYES SHOULD BE ILEGAL 

Jester: *uses a sixth level spell to send a message for Fjord because this is totally her number one priority now and it’s not like they are dealing with stuff that literally drained her today or like they are stuck up north for god knows how long... nope... she needs to find a way to help Fjord right now*

Fjord:

okay okay okay

so after the message

you can see how Jester is worried that the news she finally found for him are bad news and not going to cheer him up

Jester: Oops

Fjord: No, no, no, no! No oops! That’s great! That’s great!

I love the way he rushes to reassure her, to make sure she knows that what she just did for him is amazing and means so much and please jester do not be sad about this because this already means so much to me you have no ideaaaaaa

Fjord: That’s... totally distracting but that’s great. 

Fjord: Thank you.

Jester: You’re welcome! Now you know!

Fjord, with more feeling and emotion behind it like he wants to tell her that she and everything she does for him out of love mean the entire universe to him: Thank you.

Jester, blissfully unaware that he’s in love with him but delighted that she was able to help and that he is letting her in enough to help deal with his past: You’re welcome! I’m glad I could help!

Fjord, still not over how good she is and how diametrically different her kindness is compared to everything else he’s known in life so far and still after these many months shook and surprised by how wonderful she is: That’s very nice of you, I-

Jester: It’s just a (6th level) spell. Easy to do.

SHE HAS NO IDEA THAT WHAT HE MEANS ISN’T THE MAGIC NOR THE SPELL NOR THE INFORMATION... IT’S HER HELP AND SUPPORT THAT HE IS SO SHAKEN WITH. 

Fjord: I.... will think about that all night. 

Sure you will Fjord. We know you will. But we know it’s not about Sabien but about Jester’s kindness that you’re gonna be thinking all night. We know that’s what’s keeping you up. Not the past, the future. 

AND OF COURSE

THE OBLIGATORY AWKWARD ENDING

Fjord: I’ll race you to the top!

Both: UP!

THEY ARE SO ADORABLE AND GOOFY AND PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER WTF HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE MY LIFE INSTEAD OF THINKING ABOUT THEM 24/7??

ANYWAY WHO IS READY FOR PIRATE ARC PART 2 AND MORE SHENANIGANS WITH THESE TWO WHILE FJORD GETS FINALLY READY TO MOVE FORWARD TOWARDS THE FUTURE HE WANTS WITH JESTER? I AM

[houseofhurricane]

ACOTAR Fic: the pilgrim soul in you (1/1) | Lucien x Vassa

Summary: A missing-moments Vassien fic covering ACOWAR, ACOFAS, and ACOSF, in which, after a while, Lucien and Vassa fall in love.

A/N: I teased this for a while, and it's finally here. Additional notes and tag list at the end. I hope you enjoy 🧡

Who then devised the torment? Love. Love is the unfamiliar Name Behind the hands that wove The intolerable shirt of flame Which human power cannot remove. We only live, only suspire Consumed by either fire or fire.

-- T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding

The best story: that Lucien first sees Vassa at the lake, swooping over the water. That he’s entranced by her at this first glance, dazzled by the bird of fire, that he can sense the woman within nearly bursting to get free. Even in the form she was cursed with, Lucien might say, something about Vassa beckoned him from the first glance.

But Vassa would never let Lucien tell this story, because it is untrue. They first meet as the evening darkens, when Lucien has found the fire made by the Prince of Merchants. Before he spots the father of the Archeron sisters, he sees the strands of Vassa’s hair glowing red and golden in the firelight, generously curled and falling to the middle of her back. Then there’s the blue of her eyes, as bright and dangerous as the center of a flame. Her golden-brown skin, a shade or two darker than his own, luminous in the combined light of the fire and the stars, so that he can’t help but imagine how it would feel under his fingers.

His breath catches in his throat at what wells up in him, a feeling that is bright and dangerous.

Of course, she spots him seconds later, and then there’s a dagger at his neck, and Lucien is mercifully distracted. Vassa might be a young queen, but she’s clearly had experience with would-be assassins.

“I was sent by friends at the Night Court to try and break your enchantment,” he says, trying to keep his voice calm, but not so calm that she’s suspicious.

“I didn’t need faeries to set me free.” Her voice is lower than he’d expect, a rich alto, the words lilting with a musical accent. She does not growl the words, only tucks his hair behind his ears with her free hand, revealing the delicate arches, a gesture that lays him bare. But he does not think about his vulnerability. To do so would only increase the possibility of pain. Instead, he thinks that he’s surprised to feel callouses on her fingertips, decides to ask what would roughen a queen’s fingers at the nearest opportunity. Even then, he’s planning for a long string of moments with Vassa. “You aren’t the only beings who care about the saving of this world.”

At this point, Gabriel Archeron steps into the circle of light, and the resemblance to Feyre and Elain and Nesta is strong enough that Lucien blurts out their names, claiming he has news, and eventually the knife is removed from his neck.

Lucien makes himself a mix of charming and sorrowful as he tells the Prince of Merchants all that has happened to his daughters, trying to find a sufficient level of honesty that will not provoke unpleasant revelations later, while still convincing them to let him travel in their group. When he has finished and Gabriel has blinked away tears, which Lucien pretends not to see, he turns to Vassa.

“I was sent to make an entreaty to you,” he says. “My land will soon be at war, and the situation is grave. Hybern has been massing its armies for decades, and their spells are as formidable as the magic that binds this world together.”

“If your faerie armies can hardly withstand this onslaught,” she asks, in that thrilling tone that seems to emerge from deeper within her body than ordinary speech, the perfect ideal of a queen’s voice, “why do you expect that my human armies should go willingly to their own slaughter?”

“In my country, the High Lords and generals do not lead from the back of their armies. They fight on the front lines.”

“They have their own power to shield them.”

“Your armies would not battle on the front lines, majesty.”

She smirks at him, her teeth little moons in the firelight. “You sound quite naive when you speak on the workings of battle, emissary. You’re lucky that I have already promised my armies to your friends’ father. We ride to meet them at the coast.”

Lucien shoots a glare at Gabriel, who is smiling at the glow of the dimming fire.

“Queen Vassa flies by day, of course,” he says, the dry humor in his voice so perfectly balanced with graciousness that Lucien understands the reasons for his reputation. “Her wings are swift.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucien sees Vassa’s shoulders stiffen ever so slightly. Surely as a queen she is used to adulation.

“Perhaps you’d prefer to keep the enchantment?” Lucien asks the queen, as he turns back to the fire, trying to rile her a little further. Let her know what sort of journey this will be.

The change in Vassa, though, is apparent even to his half-gaze. The sudden tension in her muscles, a readiness that isn’t training but sheer terror. Her golden-brown face, a shade or two darker than his own, goes pale.

“You said your people could free me,” she says, and though she tries to make her voice commanding, Lucien has politicked in every court in Prythian and cannot miss the terror laced into every word.

Against all his better instincts, he tells her: “We’ll free you.”

She turns his head so he can’t see it, but still Lucien can vividly imagine her smile, brilliant and sparkling in the night.

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At first, Vassa thinks she will hate Lucien, the way he smirks and teases and generally makes it clear to everyone that he’s full of the arrogance of the High Fae. Then she realizes that, as much as she hates to admit it, Lucien is the most intelligent creature she’s ever met. His mind simply spins faster than any of her court advisors. He sees a thousand possible futures so clearly that her astrologers, famed on the continent for the accuracy of their predictions, would gnash their teeth in jealousy at his seeming clairvoyance.

It’s when Vassa begins considering his gaze with respect instead of annoyance that she knows her feelings have well and truly changed. Because Lucien’s gaze is unnerving in its omniscience: his russet eye sees everything visible, and his gold eye seems to pierce into an unseen world.

Sometimes, in the little sleep she snatches every night, Vassa dreams that Lucien Vanserra, emissary of the High Fae, can see straight into her heart. And though she begins these dreams afraid of what he’ll see, her weakness and fear and failure, at some point his lips quirk into the smallest smile, and Vassa wakes up feeling rested for the first time in months.

By day, it’s all Vassa can do to force the firebird to follow Lucien and Gabriel on the journey toward the coast and her army. The firebird’s mind is so different from her own, easily distracted and unable to parse experience into human comprehension. But the firebird’s eyes turn the world into a jewel box, and the firebird spends too much time staring at the glint of Lucien’s hair in the sunlight, sparkling every shade of red and orange and gold.

In the evenings, by the fire, Lucien’s gaze is not so piercing as it is in her dreams, and though she can admit to his masculine beauty, to her human eyes it is not as overwhelming as what the firebird sees by day.

By the fire, he makes sarcastic remarks that punctuate Gabriel’s stories, insisting that his daughter Feyre is even more brave and kind and stupid than her father lets on, that Nesta is a holy terror. Lucien does not say anything when Gabriel mentions the other daughter, Elain, only clutches his cup or fork a little tighter, makes his breathing too steady.

At a thousand endless state dinners, Vassa has learned to observe the tells of royals and ambassadors. She’s barely had a chance to use this skill outside of card games with her ladies-in-waiting, but now she’s sure that Lucien has met and desired this Elain.

It’s better this way, she tells herself. They are wartime allies. He will likely end up married to Elain Archeron and Vassa will get her curse broken by someone among the High Fae and she’ll reclaim Scythia and her rightful throne. Eventually, she’ll find a politically advantageous consort. Perhaps, once her rule is secure, she will take a lover.

Still, as they draw near to the coast, she finds herself laughing at Lucien’s remarks. He ducks his head towards her in little asides, explaining Prythian politics or making jokes so dry that her laughter nearly startles her. She realizes that, as much as she will always love Gabriel Archeron for finding her, for leading her away from Koschei, her eyes will always go first to Lucien.

Vassa tries not to think about what it means. A young queen cannot afford an ill-considered love affair. Still, when Lucien’s eyes, russet and gold, land on hers, she cannot force herself to look away.

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For their first three days at sea, Lucien worries that Vassa will fall into the ocean when she transforms from firebird to woman. The minute the sun begins to kiss the horizon, he watches her flame-bright wings and braces himself to winnow if she cannot position herself safely over the boat.

Always, Vassa manages to land safely on the deck, and Lucien swallows his anxiety. In spite of all his good intentions, the fact that she’s surrounded by the Scythian generals who adore her, Lucien can’t help seeking her gaze, can’t help scanning the length of her body for any hint of harm. All he finds is Koschei’s curse wrapped tight around her, and then Vassa’s sapphire gaze on him, the flash of her bright smile.

He thinks of Elain and he does not think of Elain. Elain, the mate who does not want him.

One day soon, before they’re reunited, Lucien will have to tell Gabriel that his middle daughter is mated to the male he’s crossed the continent with. But instead he listens to the stories the Prince of Merchants weaves about his adventures, basks in the glow of his regard. Gabriel Archeron was born when Lucien was already centuries old and tired of this world, and still Lucien catches himself basking in his fatherly countenance.

He thinks, maybe even a miserable life with Elain would be better if he had such a father-in-law.

Then Vassa catches his eye, ducks her chin to whisper that Gabriel is certainly exaggerating, she’s been to the town he speaks of and the river is not nearly as terrifying as he’s making it out to be. In fact, she says, her voice low and lilting in his ear, she and her ladies-in-waiting crossed it with skirts in hand. Then, her whisper going so soft it’s barely audible, she makes a vulgar speculation about Gabriel’s virility, the kind of phrase that would make her generals shout with laughter.

Lucien can almost feel her full, soft lips against his ear, so that he has to force himself to let out a quiet laugh. The skin of his body feels too tight. His blood thrums inside him. Somehow he makes himself turn back to the meal, laugh again when she repeats her aside to Gabriel, now at full volume, her speculation now even more elaborate and ribald. As Lucien predicted, the generals roar their approval at their queen, and Gabriel flashes her an approving smile.

For just a second, Lucien finds himself wishing that Vassa had told him a different story, which would belong only two of the two of them, not a mere rehearsal of what she’d say to everyone dining with them. He pushes the thought away quickly, focuses on the plate in front of him, lifting the spoon to his lips.

Later, when Gabriel and the generals have retreated to their rooms, Lucien finds Vassa on deck, her head thrown back as she stares at the stars.

He should go to his room, cramped and dank as it is, but instead he stays watching Vassa. Despite the dark, he can see her bright eyes considering each constellation. He can hear the beat of her heart, louder than the waves.

He considers approaching her, asking her what she sees in the stars, if it’s beauty or some vision of the future that draws her. But Lucien is a mated male now, and although he’s sure the conversation would be innocent, increasingly, closer proximity to Vassa feels like a betrayal.

Finally, he forces himself to turn away, to walk to his room and bolt the door.

Elain could take a hundred years to want him. It doesn’t mean he can be in bed with another female (another woman) for that century of purgatory.

Still, maybe it’s the distance from Elain, maybe the sea itself has bewitched him, but even as he falls into sleep, he can’t stop seeing Vassa, luminous and sarcastic and brilliant, behind his eyelids. Imagining how she might feel if she were tangled up in this narrow bed with him.

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They arrive in Prythian just in time, Vassa realizes later, once the sun has dipped below the horizon and she’s human again. She can only vaguely recall the sound of screaming, the iron scent of blood, the feeling of flesh under her talons. She had not known the firebird could attack.

Gabriel died at the hands of the King of Hybern, her generals tell her, and though she still walks through the ranks of her soldiers as she’d planned, she hardly registers the faces of the men and women who have guarded this world. She does not remember what she says to the wounded or to those who came out unscatched.

Afterwards, her hands are covered in blood.

She finds herself walking in the forest, not caring if she could be attacked. Surely any monsters have enough sense to fear the magic she witnessed on the battlefield.

Still, she startles when she hears the footsteps behind her. She whips around and there is Lucien, scratched but whole, golden even in the night, no matter the dark leather armor that covers his body like scales.

“You’re all right,” Lucien says, the relief in his voice so deep it’s practically a sob.

Vassa forgets all her reasons for keeping her distance as she launches herself into his arms, presses herself so tight against him that she can smell his citrus and sandalwood scent, hear the beating of his heart. So that the armor he wears digs into her cheek, her ear.

“There’s blood on your hands,” he says, reaching for her fingers, running his thumb over each digit. She tries not to shiver at the contact.

“I needed to visit the wounded. It’s a custom among Scythian queens, to thank their warriors personally. To grieve with them. But I have no idea what I told them. My people have not been at war since well before my reign.” Still, she was trained for this moment. She should have known.

He releases her fingers, his hands working up her arms, until he’s pulling her against him, his cheek resting on her head, the place where her crown belongs.

“No wonder your people love you,” he says.

A dozen sarcastic comments rise in her mind, but they are all wrong for this moment, when all she wants is to stay this close to him, held so tight that death and despair cannot come between them.

Eventually he says, “Your people will think that you were kidnapped by faeries.”

“If only they knew,” she tells him. “Do you think that I could speak with Feyre Cursebreaker tonight?”

Instantly he looks guarded, and then she remembers Elain, the faerie female who Lucien loves. She pulls herself away from him, just enough that she could step away if anybody found them in the woods.

“I think Feyre has been asleep for hours. Nobody is awake but the wounded and the healers and the guards.”

“Which one are you, then?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he says, and when he smirks at her, that flash of the teeth that mark him as High Fae, a thrill runs through her entire body.

Elain, she thinks, then says primly, “It is a queen’s prerogative to be wherever she likes, is it not?”

“There have been no queens in Prythian for thousands of years.” His hands are still on her back. His fingers are tangled in her hair, and if he wanted, Lucien could tug it, angle her mouth so as to be easily kissed. Instead he looks at her as if it’s the last time he’ll ever see her face. Maybe it is.

“You are quite a new thing, Vassa,” he says, after a moment or an eternity. She’s not sure.

It would be so easy to kiss him, she thinks, and Lucien is clearly honorable, more than even he realizes. He would never harm her, never leave her to be ashamed. If he accepted her kiss, surely something wonderful would begin between them.

But then she thinks of Gabriel Archeron, his warm gaze like a benediction on her, the kindness and bravery he showed when he rescued her from Koschei. The way he spoke of his daughter, Elain, the love that filled his voice when he spoke of her, the daughter he would never see again.

She finds that although it is easy to imagine kissing Lucien, his lips on hers, the opening of their mouths and her fingers searching for a gap in his armor, she cannot ask her body to make any of the required motions. Once, not so very long ago, she was well-schooled in honor.

“We should go back to camp. I’m tired.” It is the first lie that Vassa has ever told to Lucien. It will not be the last.

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At political functions, much is made of conversations, tone and gesture. Even a too-long look can be made fodder for months of court gossip.

Even knowing this, even knowing he needs to make inroads with Tamlin, that at minimum all his emissary posts require him to converse with the members of the assembled courts, knowing the Night Court watches him, wondering when he will finally try and speak with Elain, Lucien cannot stop looking at Vassa.

Someone has provided her with a dress of sapphire silk and a diadem of gold and sapphire, has brushed her hair until it is practically a living flame falling riotous down her back. He has never seen anyone more radiant. No matter the ruined estate, the tense conversations, even if the whole world goes to hell in this meeting, it will have been worth it to see Vassa every inch a queen in this moment.

When he spots her talking with Jurian, Lucien can hardly contain his fury. He does not trust the man, no matter that he saved Feyre. Sometimes he barely trusts Feyre.

And when Jurian bends to press a kiss to the back of Vassa’s hand, Lucien has to acknowledge the feeling that’s hot inside him: jealousy.

It’s wrong, he knows, when his whole body shouts whenever Elain is near, his heart practically thumping out her name. Far from her, he was able to forget the effects of the mating bond, only the coldness inside him whenever she would not meet his eye.

Still, no matter how close Elain lets him get, he has never felt himself alight the way he did last night, when Vassa stood in his arms and let him pull her close. He has never scanned the horizon with worry that she will fall into the sea, never laughed at a single thing she’s said.

So although Lucien forces himself to let the conversation between Vassa and Jurian play out, tells himself over and over he might be good for her as if repetition will make him believe the sentiment, the moment Jurian steps away, Lucien strides directly to her side.

“I spoke with Feyre,” Vassa says, by way of hello. “She does not know how to break my curse.”

“Feyre has barely learned her powers.”

“Oh? Are you saying you can do better, One True Faerie?” She swats at him, fingers barely grazing his jacket. Still, he warms at the contact.

Smiling in spite of himself, he taps his temple, indicating his golden eye, the scars surrounding it. “I’ve been told I can see what others can’t, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t tell me that line has worked on a single woman.”

“Lucky for me that the females of my species are much more credulous than human queens.” He allows himself to bask in Vassa’s laughter, too loud to be dignified. “But now that we are in Prythian, there are others with the necessary skills. There are whole libraries that might be of assistance.”

He thinks, but does not speak of Helion as he summons his powers and takes another look at the curse, which is fashioned like a harness on her shoulders, crossing her clavicle and looping around her shoulderblades, Vassa’s heart surrounded by the trip of Koschei’s magic. The magical signature is foreign to him, a long and complicated sentence in a language not spoken in a thousand lifetimes.

“Jurian said there was a place for me in the human realms, if I wanted to take it,” she is saying, snapping him back to the present, the physics of the known world. “Do you think those faerie experts will remember me across the wall?”

“There is no wall anymore,” he says, rewards her with a low laugh when she rolls her eyes at him.

“You’re full of fairytales today, but I suppose that’s appropriate,” she shoots back.

“They won’t forget about you because I will constantly be reminding them that the human queen who saved their sorry selves is still bound by an enchantment.”

“For a moment I forgot how self-important you were.” In spite of her words, Vassa’s smile is sweet and hopeful, the kind of expression only humans wear. In all his long and miserable life, Lucien has never seen such a lovely smile. He hates himself for thinking it but cannot bring himself to turn away from her the way he should.

“There’s more I can do,” he says, breathing deep, letting the imminent mistake wash over him, like dangling his foot off a cliff. “I could stay with you and Jurian, if you wanted. If I wouldn’t be interrupting the two of you.”

She reaches for his hand and squeezes it, a squeal muffled between bitten lips.

“Jurian is a terrific ass and you’ll have to keep me from slicing him to ribbons.”

He’s so dazzled by the feeling of her fingers on his that he doesn’t even bother to look and see if anyone’s watching. For the first time he can remember, every thought leaves his mind.

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Jurian would be the perfect man to marry, Vassa realizes within the first three days of their living together. An ancient warrior would not be a strange consort to a firebird queen. True, their arguments shake the walls, and his ideas are old-fashioned to an idiotic extent, and of course there’s the fact that Vassa cannot imagine herself ever falling in love with him. Still, he would be the right choice.

Far better, to be certain, than Greyson, Lord Nolan’s son, who at Vassa’s arrival is paraded with the pomp that would befit a king, not a minor aristocrat. She can tell that there was a sweetness to him once, but that it’s curdled, and what’s left to the boy seems now beneath her regard. She does not know how Elain Archeron once loved him. This fact alone makes her think less of the girl.

Then again, Vassa knows that she is inclined to judge Elain more harshly than she deserves. She tells herself that this is because of the dejected expression on Lucien’s face when he first returned from Velaris after the war, the way he goes quiet when she’s mentioned.

But in her secret heart, when she’s the only one awake in the Nolan manor, Vassa can admit that she’s jealous of Elain Archeron. She hates this emotion. It is not fair, it is not honorable, and yet Vassa feels jealousy wrapping its tendrils around her.

So when Lucien appears in the manor in between visits to the courts of Prythian, she is cordial. She is friendly. Sometimes she even allows her smile to break free, but only if he is telling her about progress towards the breaking of her curse. Only if the implication is that she could be free, and therefore far away from him.

More and more when she’s around him, Vassa feels as if her human self has merged with the firebird: unable to speak freely, bound by invisible chains.

If her arguments with Jurian grow a bit sharper and she smiles more wickedly when she bests him, well, between the curse that makes her a firebird and the heart that longs so furiously for what it cannot have, she cannot possibly be expected to have perfect forbearance.

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Finally, there is an evening where Jurian goes to bed early and it’s only Lucien and Vassa in Nolan’s shockingly ample library, the last of the wine between them. Vassa’s cheeks are flushed from another argument with Jurian. Lucien had tried to read through it, but the history he’d selected was inaccurate and every time he looked up, Vassa and Jurian seemed to be grinning in spite of the heat and clamor of their words. They argue like lovers now, he kept thinking, the words spinning before him, turning nonsensical.

“Do you still think that Jurian is a terrific ass?” he asks, before he can stop himself, the wine stretching his words into a drawl. As if the question is unimportant. As if it is not dangerous.

“He’s exactly the kind of man my advisors would tell me to marry. Even my mother would have approved.” Her fingers, on the glass, have gone yellow-white from the strength of her grip. He cannot tell what she’s nervous about.

“I suppose he is miraculous, in his own way. As long as you enjoy going to battle every night.” A hint of the old smirk. Maybe it will unsettle her into revealing the truth.

For a few seconds, the room is still, so quiet he can hear the quickening thump of Vassa’s heartbeat. Weeks or months ago, maybe, Lucien would have been smug over his ability to rile her. Now he only waits to see what she will say.

“At least he’s not in love with someone else.” Vassa does not look at him, and for the first time since he’s known her, her blue eyes do not sparkle.

“I’m not--that is--” Already he has revealed too much. He can feel the heat of her gaze on him and now it’s he who cannot meet her eyes.

“I know about Elain. And I cannot...her father rescued me from Koschei. I will not dishonor his memory by stealing you away from her. No matter what I want.”

He thinks about saying, you have a high opinion of yourself, Queen of Scythia, the kind of thing he’d usually say to her, which would rob the moment of its tension, send them off to their separate beds. Likely, the usual jibe would set everything right. But Lucien has tried to play the dutiful suitor to his mate, has found her thoughtful gifts and has waited until her (their) heart warms, and still she cannot wait until he leaves her behind. Still his thoughts stray to Vassa. And the very thought of her with Jurian is worse than the guilt of leaving his mate for another. Let Elain take a thousand years to come around to the idea of him, let her break the mating bond itself, Lucien thinks, gulping down the last of his wine. She is not the problem. Probably she never was.

“I’m not in love with her,” he says, finally, the words like tumbling off a cliff. “She’s my mate. Chosen for me by the Cauldron. And if I could choose, Queen of Scythia, believe me that I would choose a woman who can win any argument, whose beauty is only eclipsed by her fierce intelligence, and who still has not told me how her hands, the hands of a queen, came to be so calloused.”

“In Scythia, women can be warriors. I’ve trained with a sword since I was seven.” The words are hardly a breath.

He rises from his chair. The book falls from his lap, lands on the carpet with a muffled thump, but he does not turn. He only looks at Vassa’s eyes, the blue deep and sparkling as the middle of the ocean, lit by the noonday sun. Vast and lovely and alive.

He waits for her to look away, but instead she stands up so that she’s right in front of him, the silk of her dress sighing against the toes of hits boots. He always forgets, until they stand close, that she’s nearly as tall as he is. How hard it has been to keep from kissing her, when her lips, the color of ripe berries, have been right in front of him for all these months.

Now, finally, his mouth is on hers, hot and sweet, her lips opening to his tongue, a groan escaping him because Vassa, lithe and lovely, is in his arms, so quick and urgent that he can’t remember whether he reached for her or if she embraced him first. Her calloused fingertips are on his wrists, his neck, working the buttons of his jacket until it falls to the ground.

“I do not want to ruin you,” he says, too far gone with need to blunt the words, trying not to think about the way his cock strains at the seams of his pants. Only the woman in his arms, flushed and disheveled and smiling as she rolls her eyes at him.

“I am the Queen of Scythia by birth and by my own desire. I cannot be ruined by anyone.”

He wants to believe her, and so he kisses her, stops only long enough to undo each button that fastens her gown, take a long look at her lean body, her small breasts that fit so perfectly in his palm, her muscles visible with each movement. Her golden brown skin is scattered with freckles, and he presses a kiss to each one until she tugs at his hair, hissing her frustration.

Between her legs, she’s molten velvet. He strokes her until her little sighs become moans, until her fingers scrabble to reach him, pull him even closer.

“Get inside me, Vanserra.” He nearly laughs at her approximation of a fierce growl, unraveled by the keening sound of desire, a mirror of his own. Still he holds himself apart from her, quirks a brow.

“Need I remind you how bastards are made, Your Majesty?”

“I’ve heard the tales about your contraceptive potions. If you want me tonight, stop stalling.” She crosses her arms over her breasts, and Lucien dearly wants to kiss the smug look off her face.

“I’m glad you’ve been studying our customs,” he says instead, pulling her down to the thick rug that covers the library floor.

At first, he tries to be gentle, but she pulls him closer, her eyes set on his, so that when he enters her with that first desperate stroke, he can see the moment of pain. He cups his hand around her chin, kisses her as he moves in and out, until she begins to pant against his mouth, saying please and yes until she goes stiff and ecstatic, and he follows her, need giving way to a roaring pleasure.

Later, she’s curled up next to him, weaving braids into his hair, and she says, “I know this is only for a little while.”

Before she can continue, Lucien scoops her up so that her body covers his, until he can’t see anything but Vassa’s face, the pensive look she can nearly hide behind her drooping eyelids, a languid smile.

“This is for as long as you’ll have me,” he says, pressing a kiss to her lips. “You are the one I choose, Vassa.”

They do not sleep for a moment of the night, and when she goes to meet the dawn, to become the firebird, Lucien holds tight to her hand.

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In her dream, Vassa has fallen into the ocean and she cannot breathe. She tries to inhale the ocean water, she’s become that desperate, but her throat is closed, as if her drowning body has been filled with stones.

When she opens her eyes, the ocean is gone but she cannot breathe, and Lucien works frantically over her body, his eyes moving in every direction, his fingers moving through the air as if guiding a miniscule orchestra.

There’s a burning, raging and deep, where Koschei’s spell binds her. She feels the burning in her blood, as if the nature of her curse has changed and now she will remain a human queen, with the firebird doing battle inside her.

And the world is full of air she cannot breathe.

She thinks, looking up at Lucien, his face now revealing a bit more terror but his hands as sure as ever, that this was always going to be the way that she died: curled up in her bed, looking up at Lucien. Only, she’d always thought that she would be old and wheezing, perhaps a little bored of even their great love, ready for a new adventure.

Now all she can think is that she should have kissed him the first day they met. That she’ll die so far away from Scythia. That she’d never thought her lungs, deprived of air, could burn quite like this, as if she’d inhaled fire instead of air.

She reaches for Lucien just as whatever binds her falls away, and despite the relief that overwhelms her, the air that floods her, Vassa realizes with horror that it was her own hair that coiled around her neck, long and thick enough to form a rope.

“It took so long to find the right unbinding spell,” Lucien says, holding her hand tight in his own. His voice is small, the voice of a lost child. “I thought--”

“I need you to cut my hair short,” Vassa says, her voice rough. Each word burns her throat. “Or Koschei will kill me with it eventually.”

There are others who want to kill her, of course. There are always rivals and assassins and foreign rulers who worry that she will conquer the world with her will alone. But no one other than Koschei could activate the curse, could transform her blood into fire. The rope of hair was only the visible manifestation of his powers.

“I know the unbinding spell now.” He dips to kiss her cheek, her temple, and she’s grateful he knows that he cannot kiss her mouth, rest his body on hers, nothing that impedes her breathing. “I can keep you safe.”

“One day you will have court business that keeps you away overnight.”

“And what if Koschei uses a blanket?” His voice is rough over the question and she realizes that he’s imagining the scene.

“If you’re away, I will sleep on an empty bed and Jurian will watch over me all night long. Now go fetch your sword,” she says, trying to make her voice sound imperious, to make him sarcastic and smirking again, her own Lucien.

One flash and the mass of her hair falls to the floor. What remains hovers an inch over her shoulders, revealing her freckled clavicles, the half-wings of her shoulderblades.

“You are lovely,” Lucien says, laying the sword on the ground.

Normally she would take advantage of his position, guide his mouth to all the places that make her go wordless, but now she only catches his gaze, lets him see the fear on her face. It’s one of the expressions she never lets anybody see.

“This curse will kill me soon,” she tells him.

“I will go to every court in Prythian until we figure out how to unbind you from the death-lord. I swear it to you.”

“Every court in Prythian has forgotten me. And why should they remember? In their eyes, my life will go past in a blink.”

“I will never let them forget you,” he says, smoothing her newly shorn hair away from her face, pulling her close beside him, so that she can hear each breath and thump of his heart. “I will make sure that you are free.”

She does not tell him that it’s no longer freedom she craves, exactly. That she wants to be bound to him the way she is bound to her country, to her people, tied by blood and right and strength of will.

Instead she presses her mouth to his and allows herself to forget, just for a second, how to breathe.

&

&

&

Because humans do not celebrate the old Fae holidays, Vassa did not mind his spending the Solstice at the Night Court, but in spite of this, Lucien spent each minute calculating the earliest moment he could return to her.

She’s still awake, curled up on a sofa in the library, when he returns from Feyre and Rhysand’s estate, bearing a piece of cake he’d secreted away in a heavy cloth napkin.

“I didn’t think you would return before tomorrow,” she says, looking up from her book of history, thick with politics and deception and warring.

Always, he is surprised by the bright blue of her eyes, even in candlelight. Always, he knows, deep in his bones, this woman will enchant him.

“I wouldn’t miss a single night with you if it could be helped. And I have not given you your Solstice gift.”

“I thought we weren’t exchanging gifts,” she says, her mouth puckering into a frown.

“You should know better than to always take me at my word,” he says, raising a brow, watching the indignation rise on her face. He lets the napkin fall into her lap, and then a smaller package, which he’d wrapped carefully this morning, while she wheeled over the manor grounds, wings aflame.

She lets out a little gasp at the sapphire earrings which will turn each ear into a lattice of sparkling flowers, bright against the red-gold curls of her hair. He’d contracted a master jeweler months ago, measured Vassa’s ears when she lay sleeping, so that the fit is exact. It’s the kind of jewelry a queen would wear, he thought, when he gave the earrings their final inspection.

One day soon, Lucien knows, Vassa will be free of the curse that binds her. She’ll go back to Scythia and reclaim her rightful throne, earn and accept and enjoy the love of her people.

“I will follow you, ” he says, watching her smile grow as she studies each flawless sapphire, not a single one as brilliant as her eyes, “when you go back to Scythia.”

“You do not have to lie to me,” she says, and her voice catches in her throat with an emotion too complex to name. “These earrings are enough.”

“I will follow you,” he says again, and kisses her before she can argue, pulls her close.

In the morning, he wakes before the sunrise, walks hand in hand with her through the forest, the silence between them comfortable as their bodies move themselves from sleep.

The moment before the sun passes the horizon, Vassa lets go of Lucien’s hand, and turns toward him. An instant later, the firebird circles near his head, swooping around the trees. Lucien almost thinks there is a spark of recognition in those blue eyes, as if he’s managed to lodge inside that animal brain, wedge himself inside the curse, the first step to destroying it all together.

When the wing of the firebird passes over him, he is startled to realize he feels no pain at the heat of the flame.

“You’ve realized, of course, that I love you,” he says, feeling foolish at speaking into the snow-muffled silence, knowing that the animal before him cannot speak, likely does not understand.

But the firebird extends her wings and, with a great cry, shoots up into the air, keening over the forest, her own sun, before returning to the place where Lucien stands, beholding her glory.

For the rest of the day, she will not leave his side.

.

.

.

A/N 2: I've been a Vassien shipper ever since I watched Lucien light up while talking to Vassa in ACOWAR, and I love how this ship has everything: intelligence, beauty, mutual snark, and no problem standing up to the Night Court. Though I have no idea if this ship will sail in the next ACOTAR books, I can't help but root for these truly immaculate vibes.

Tag List: @vassiensupremacy @vassienweek @lucienvassa @lantsov-vanserra @bookstaninthesoul @fireborne6 @flowerbirdsblog (I tagged you if you previously reblogged my preview of this fic -- please let me know if you'd like to stay on or be removed from my Vassien tag list.)

[exquisitley-obsessed]

Fiancés, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 5

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed​

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn’s attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain’s father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is going to be a long, slow burn fic (hopefully)

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Five: Madman

“Hello my little fairies,”

“Jurian, please-” Lucian groaned, his arms folding over his chest as he leaned back with a groan. They’d only been waiting a few minutes before their fae hearing had picked up on Jurian’s footfalls and accompanying whistle.

“Sorry fox-boy, but you’re the idiot who got yourself and princess over here stuck on your first day.”

Lucien said nothing, just glared at his friend with a look that could’ve killed. Jurian paused in his approach, taking a moment to survey the cage. Then he cocked his head.

“You didn’t do this on purpose right?”

“Jurian-”

“Okay, okay,” Jurian grinned, holding his hands up in defence. Throughout this exchange Elain had remained perched on the fallen tree, doing her best to ignore the boy’s bickering.

With a comedic deliberance, Jurian reached over and began to hoist the cage upwards. The contraption must’ve been heavier than it appeared given the audible grunt that came out of the semi-mortal man. Lucien sprang to his feet and held out his hand to help Elain up before snapping it back to his side. She ignored that. She ignored the sinking feeling in her gut too, and bent low and shuffled under the lip of the cage to freedom, Lucien close behind.

“You owe me one,” Jurian huffed as he let the cage fall, the wood groaning in protest.

“We should’ve discouraged the councils from putting these up,” Lucien glared at the Ashwood cage, and Elain could now see how the wood was black like the forests caged in the Nolan residence. Involuntarily, she shivered.

“Councils would think you a mad-men if you began suggesting they forgo protecting themselves against fae.” Jurian eyed his friend, his hands digging into his pockets.

“It’s not safe, not when allies who are fae come to visit. What kind of message does that send?”

“Lucien, you can’t demand the whole human world put down their swords just because your mate is in town.”

Both Elain and Lucien stiffened at the word, the acknowledgment of the bond they both had so insistently ignored for two, whole years. It was like the floor falling out from under them, and the friendly bantering they’d just shared lost its innocence and gained a heavy significance. Nothing could be simple between them it seemed.

Nesta would’ve gone mad Elain realised, to know that Elain had been trapped with Lucien who she was convinced was an uncontrollable beast. But Lucien had done nothing to make her uncomfortable, quite the opposite in fact.

“Huckleberry Hall?” Elain spoke into the silence, as Lucien and Jurian continued to glare at one another. Lucien with danger in his eye, Jurian with amusement.

“Maybe you should go back to the house,” Lucien said after a moment, kicking a stone near his foot.

“What? Why?”

“It’s dangerous out here,” Lucien gestured vaguely to the Ashwood cage. “You can just come with us to Huckleberry on the day, you don’t need to know the way just yet.”

“You’re the one that got us trapped,” Elain bit out. There was more emotion in her voice than she’d heard in a long time. Lucien, it seemed, had this tendency of making her break out of the fog that had descended on her mind following the Cauldron. Making her laugh. Making her angry. “I’m an emissary just like you, why shouldn’t I know the way?”

“No I…I didn’t mean it like that,” Lucien sighed, his brows furrowing as his shoulders hunched. But what other reason was there? Could Elain truly never escape the preconceptions the world had of her – lesser, inconsequential, useless.

“No, I get it. Don’t worry,” Elain could hardly control her anger at this point, folding her arms over her chest as though it could barricade her emotions in. Around Lucien everything was intensified, electric – it was making her feel sick.

“Elain…” Lucien said softly, and if she were not mistaken, from the corner of her eye she could see him extend a hand towards her - reaching out for her.

“Come on princess, I’ll take you home,” Jurian spoke as though he were reminding them of his presence, and Elain saw as Lucien’s hand retracted back to his side. “I have a new contract with the Darlington’s which I wouldn’t mind you looking over.” Jurian came over and Elain looked him over as though for the first time. Scruffy brown hair, a beard that could do with a trim. Brown eyes like Elain’s, and like Elain’s, they were somewhat glazed over, as though he were not truly there.

Elain just nodded at him, her back still somewhat turned to Lucien. But before Jurian could lead Elain back to the Manor, her mate spoke again.

“You keep her safe,” he said, and Elain couldn’t help but peek at him. He’d spoken with such steel in his voice, and his eyes were blazing with raw power as he glared at Jurian. It set something inside Elain alight.

“The house is 15 minutes away, please, have a little faith,” Jurian rolled his eyes.

“Pigs will fly before I put faith in you Jurian.” The man just rolled his eyes and turned back to the dirt path which they had all just come from. Elain turned to go, peeking over her shoulder one last time as she did so.

Lucien seemed to linger for a moment, an internal battle raging inside of him, before his expression darkened and he turned his back, walking away without a second glance.

“You don’t look like your sister, not really?”

“Which one?” Jurian was walking behind Elain, and with every step Elain felt his eyes boring into the back of her head.

“Which one?” Jurian was walking behind Elain, and with every step Elain felt his eyes boring into the back of her head.

“Both. Feyre’s all Nigh Court ink and the other one’s all hellcat.”

“I’ll be sure to let them know of your opinion.”

“You’re like me,” Jurian surprised her by saying. Elain flushed.

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Oh really? I think we’re quite similar. In fact, I think we might be just the same.”

“I really don’t think so,” Elain marched forward, swatting at the bushes as the arched over the path.

“You don’t sometimes feel a little…crazy?” Either she was going mad or Jurian’s voice was dangerously close to the back of her neck.

“No…” she breathed, not much longer now, the house should come into sight in between the trees any second.

“Do you still have visions?”

“No,” Elain said quickly, too quickly, “They stopped after the Cauldron was reforged.”

“How can you be so sure?” She definitely just felt Jurian’s breath on the tip of her left ear. “Your sister still maintained her powers, before giving them up for Feyre…silly girl.” Elain came to a halt and spun around.

“Be careful with how you speak about my sisters.” Raw fury lined her voice. She’d had enough, and all the tension of the last two days appeared to have peaked.

But, she hated that he had got this reaction out of her, hated that glint in his eye which revealed just how delighted he was.

“What are you doing here, princess?” Jurian said after a moment, his voice was painfully, uncomfortably soft.

“I’m here to look over your work with the councils-”

“No,” Jurian said simply, “What are you really doing here?”

Elain paused, her eyes boring into the madman’s, refusing to look away. Inside of her, she felt something spark into life, and for the first time, she didn’t blow it out – she kindled it, holding it in her hands and encouraging it to grow.

“Are you really do arrogant – so pompous – to believe I have an ulterior motive in my stay.” The words came out hot and fast, and Elain felt something inside her finally breaking. “You clearly believe I do, in fact, it’s clear you think you know said ulterior motive. So why don’t we ask you, Jurian, why am I here? If you’re so convinced of my disloyalty.”

If Jurian was phased by Elain’s extremely uncommon outburst, he didn’t show it. He just continued to peer down at her with cold, calculating eyes.

“Forgive me, Lady Archeron, if I do not believe in the honesty of the Night Court.”

“Your beliefs are not my problem.” The anger was easy now, too easy. It was no longer buried deep within her, in some unreachable pocket, it was bubbling under her skin, aching for release.

“They are when it appears the Night Court has sent perhaps the least suitable person for a job we didn’t even need. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together can see your position is unnecessary. You’re not needed…so why are you here?”

Jurian insulted her so casually, with so little remorse, that Elain wasn’t quite sure she’d heard him correctly. He couldn’t speak to her like that, right? No one, no one, spoke to her like that. No one insulted her to her face, no one told her she was not needed – especially not after the Cauldron. No one would’ve dared insult her in the Night Court, not with Feyre as her sister and Rhysand her brother-in-law. And Elain had thought…she’d thought no one would insult her here, not with Lucien around. But Lucien couldn’t be with her all the time, and everyone else, well they owed her nothing.

“How has talking to the councils worked for you?”

Jurian seemed to still. At least she’d caught him off guard.

“…pardon?”

“Because I don’t think I need to look at the contracts to know that your progress has been futile.” Jurian seemed to stop breathing, his eyes turning dark and dangerous. Elain wondered for a moment if Lucien had realised the only danger he’d left her with, was Jurian.

“Careful how you speak,” the madman’s voice was low, deadly.

“Have you ever wondered why? Why you’ve made no progress with the humans? Hasn’t it crossed your mind that a half-crazed man who used to be a finger and an eye in a ring, and a queen who metamorphosises into a bird come daylight, might not be the best approach to a land of mortals?”

Jurian stayed silent, and whether encouraged by bravery or stupidity, Elain didn’t stop.

“Humans are simple people, really. But everything they’ve been taught over the centuries has told them that fae are dangerous and not to be trusted. The humans are probably looking at the two of you thinking if they open themselves up to the world of fae, then they’re going to end up the same. Lucien he…well…I can’t imagine he knows much about humans either. What you need is someone who understands these people, who knows the right thing to say so they believe the fae mean no harm.”

“And let me guess, this person is you?” Jurian goaded with a condescending smirk that had no humour.

“Say what you want, Jurian, but I’m the most human one here.”

Jurian assessed her, his eyes clouding over with thought.

“Yes…human…you’d like that wouldn’t you.” It was Elain’s turn to be startled.

“Pardon?”

“Is that not why you’re here? To play dress up with your old life, to pretend that nothing’s changed, that you didn’t change.”

“No-” Elain practically hissed.

“I saw you the day Nolan’s boy rejected you. Brutal, but at least he’s honest, I’ll give him that. You were a wreck that day, princess, I bet you don’t even remember that I was there. But I was, and I saw that fire in your eye…I guess in that way you are like your sisters.”

“I…” Elain hated that her thoughts had turned sour, and her tongue had frozen. Now, she was drowning in memories of that day. That horrible, cleaving day.

“The look in your eye was of a woman who wasn’t going to give up on what she wants, not now, not ever.”

“I am a female,” Never had Elain referred to herself as such, but in the face of Jurian’s vitriol she had never felt such an urge to defend her fae-ness, “And you know nothing of what I want.”

“Then please, enlighten me,” Jurian was close now, too close, and Elain cursed herself for how her speech faltered, for how the words ran out. What did she want?

“Is it him?” Jurian pushed and Elain felt her whole body flush. Jurian just rolled his neck. “Only took you two years-”

“I didn’t-”

“I don’t care,” Jurian glared out at the forest, “You’re crueller than I thought, Lady Elain, to keep Lucien only till you want him. Do you like that? Keeping males on leashes till you get over your petty trauma-”

Elain slapped him.

Granted, the minute her hand collided with his cheek she was already cradling his face and apologising profusely. But still, Elain had slapped him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, oh Gods, I didn’t mean to, I just – I just – oh gods I-” Jurian was rubbing at his cheek, but the fog seemed to have cleared from his eye. Elain couldn’t stop apologising, down right mortified in her actions, particularly in the ease in which she’d raised her hand and struck a man. This wasn’t her; she didn’t defend herself like this. Too much time around Mor, that had to be it.

“Please don’t apologise, and you didn’t hit me that hard, I’ve had lovers do worse,” Jurian grinned cheekily. Elain just scrunched up her nose, a furious blush spreading across her cheeks.

“I wish I could say you didn’t deserve it,” Elain muttered as she watched the skin of Jurian’s cheek prickle into a dull rose. Horror washed through her for saying such a thing, but Jurian just shrugged and ruffled his scruffy hair.

“I refuse to lie,” he said, eventually.

“I’m sure that works brilliantly for you in the world of politics,” Elain couldn’t take her eyes away from the blushing skin of Jurian’s cheek. “Let me say this once, Jurian. Just so we know where we stand with each other,” she began, somewhat awkwardly as she fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve. “You know nothing of me. You know nothing of my wants, and you certainly, certainly, know nothing of my pain...”

It seemed that Jurian had nothing to say to that, and Elain couldn’t stand the look in his eye, so she turned to the endless forest.

“If you spent five minutes in my mind…”

“What?” Jurian ground out, and Elain looked at him sharply.

“Those 50 years would look like child’s play.”

Jurian’s eyes darkened, and he seemed to look over her as though for first time. Drinking her in. Elain thought he would’ve been offended but, he just looked thoughtful, as though he’d been propositioned with a new puzzle.

“Till you prove me otherwise,” he finally began, moving around Elain and walking forward along the path, “I cannot believe that some part of you, no matter how small, is only back here to try and go back to your old life. That’s just what I’ll believe.”

Elain said nothing, she just fell into step behind the madman. What was supposed to have been a short trip to Huckleberry had turned into strangely casual bantering with Lucien and a confrontation with Jurian in which she had physically assaulted him. If today was any indication, perhaps Vassa would give her another strange encounter come nightfall. All she had to do till then, was look over the contracts. That would be simple enough.

“Elain,” Jurian spoke up, not bothering to even turn around.

“Yes?”

“Please prove me otherwise.”

***

Lucien was pretty sure he was scaring the humans. He’d walked into Huckleberry Hall with flames practically sizzling from his fingers and had given a small gaggle of human women a nasty fright as he spun the corner.

He was now waiting on the updated maps from the humans’ best cartographer. Lucien didn’t like waiting. He didn’t like staying still. He needed the world to keep moving and he needed it to keep dragging him along, because when he stopped like this, he became far too aware of exactly how things were.

Things had been going fine with Elain. No, not fine – great. For the first time, ever, Lucien was pretty sure he’d caught a glimpse of Elain. Not Elain when she was stuffed in Night Court black or silent whilst her sisters spoke for her, but just, Elain.

She’d laughed at his joke. Cauldron fry him – she’d actually giggled at something he’d said. Lucien hadn’t even had time to consider how that was their first time alone together, just the two of them. If the world were kind to him, maybe one day that would be their story – the first time they talked because they’d quite literally been trapped together.

But the world wasn’t kind to him.

What had gone wrong? All of a sudden Jurian was there and things were bad again. Lucien had done what he always does, he’d said something stupid, and he’d watched as Elain, quite literally, retracted into herself.

And now he was alone at Huckleberry Hall, and all the excitement he’d had merely hours ago, at the prospect of being with Elain and making some progress, had evaporated. Groaning, Lucien ran his hands down his face.

“Lucien?” A sweet, bubbly voice called out from behind him, and it took the male a moment before he could place the voice. Turning around, he forced an easy, courtier’s smile onto his face.

“Delilah,” Lucien smiled, greeting the woman with a slight bow of his head. “How are you?”

“I’m well, how are you?” Delilah was the daughter of Lord Darlington, the human who appeared to be in charge of the armies, Lord Nolan supplying the arms for his escapades. Lucien didn’t understand how human courting worked, in the fae lands when he liked a female they’d usually be in his bed before sundown, but from what he’d heard of the human crowds, Delilah had been described as the ‘diamond of the season’ – whatever the hell that meant.

Lucien supposed that meant a lot of men were scrabbling for her hand, and he supposed she fit the human model for attractive. Her hair was of palest blonde, and she had a dainty body with bones that reminded Lucien of a bird. She wore pretty frocks with high necklines, and seemed to have abnormally, cosmetic rouge cheeks and lips. She was sweet, but in the face of-

“Are you sure you’re well?” Her voice was high and sugary, “You look ready to explode.” Lucien huffed what he hoped was an amused laugh.

“It’s been a hectic night and day.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Delilah chewed her bottom lip. “Any reason in particular? Any way in which I can help?” Lucien shook his head.

“No…we’ve just had a new arrival from Prythian, a high fae like me whose here to assist with negotiations.” Lucien tried to keep his voice neutral, but he was sure that somehow Delilah knew he was talking about his mate. Surely she heard his heart, racing in his chest.

“Oh, how exiting!” Delilah’s eyes seemed to brighten with a seemingly innocent interest.

“Really?” Lucien had cocked his head and raised his brow, “I thought you humans would hate having a new fae in town.”

But Lucien knew Delilah wouldn’t mind. When Lucien had first arrived at the mortal lands things had been, strange. At least he was already well practiced in having strangers stare at him, but there was something unblazoned about the humans. The men always looked to be sizing him up, their eyes calculating exactly what it would take to take him down. The women…well. Women of an older generation were mortified by him – which was a first.

But the younger women, they hadn’t had so many years in believing the fae as wicked. The girls were curious, and Lucien was very handsome. He always had been, and it seemed that here, his scar and metal eye only added to the exotic ambiguity of his presence. Over the two years the women had become braver. They might come stand near him in gaggles, first they didn’t talk they only observed, then they were having loud conversations of when they would be taking strolls in the garden, unattended by their chaperones.

Lucien was amused. For one reason. The idea that Elain had once been like these human women had sent his mind whirring. Would she have been taken by him if they’d met before the Cauldron. It would’ve been so easy to see her when she was still human, he could’ve been the one to deliver Feyre’s letters, he could’ve crossed the border and knocked on her door and-

It was a fun dream. But that’s all it was, a dream.

“Maybe my father would hate a new fae but, I’m sure us ladies wouldn’t mind,” Delilah let out a giggle that reminded Lucien of too many sugars in his tea.

“Well, she’ll be attending the meeting on Friday, so plenty of opportunity for greetings then.”

“She?” Delilah seemed to falter slightly, her iridescent hair catching in the sun in a way that made Lucien’s eyes hurt.

“Yes,” Lucien sighed, he really hated to tell people of her, in some way he supposed it was his way of keeping her safe, especially when at the most important moment of his life he couldn’t shut up. But Elain was not his property, and not his secret to keep. “Lady Elain of the Night Court.” He confirmed, unable to keep the awe out of his voice as he spoke.

“Archeron?” Delilah’s voice, impossibly, rose in pitch.

“Yes…” Lucien wondered if he’d made a mistake given Delilah’s wide, calculating eyes.

“We…we never thought we’d see her again,” Delilah said, as though it were some kind of explanation.

“I…” Lucien’s brow furrowed, “I’m sure she feels the same.”

“Gods…will you be at the Nolan’s tonight,” Delilah went on, and yet her eyes still remained troubled as she looked at him.

“Me? No…no I don’t attend those kinds of things.” Lucien straightened himself up, folding his hands behind his back.

“It’ll be a lot of fun,” she smiled sweetly at him, and for a moment Lucien wondered why she was asking him. She’d extended the offer a few times two years ago, but soon it became well known that the Fae Male from the other side of the wall would have nothing to do with the Nolan family beyond basic respect.

“I’m sure it will, but, I have other duties I must attend to.” Not quite a lie. Not quite the truth. Who even cared.

“Of course,” Delilah bowed slightly, and Lucien was somewhat grateful that the young woman seemed to be taking her leave.

“But know,” she surprised him by taking a step closer, “You’re more than welcome should you…change your mind.”

And then she was gone with a curtsey and a flick of ice-white hair. Lucien watched as she disappeared down the golden hallway, her pale skirts dragging across the marble floor, and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

[violet-t-9]

Check in on my (not very realistic) wish list for episode 136

1. The M9 eventually find a way to catch up with Lucien and Cree (or even get in front of them) before they are able to go to the astral sea AND at least start the combat please and thanks (Bonus: Cree gets a wild magic effect that gives M9 some advantage or laughs).

OH NO an intuit charge they were ambushed! The TT were way ahead of them... They caught up though! Lucian and Cree are still there... oops never mind they got ahead AGAIN, no TT combat today. Well, astral sea here we come!

2. Caleb and Beau’s eyes come into play at some point but are helpful to them instead of being used against them (look, let me try to be optimistic).

They have true sight! They can communicate telepathically to ANYONE! Hey, at least they gained some magical abilities and SOME sort of profit from all that anxiety. The eyes were still used against them to sense their presence.

3. Some long one-on-one conversations between any characters please, I need the RP experience! Any two of them would have a great dynamic.

Welp, I mean, combat time! Combat is also good, who needs RP anyways :(

4. More wild magic effects from casting in Aeor! Jester, Essek, Caduceus, Veth I’m looking at y’all. Caleb and Fjord already had their fun, but I won’t say no to more. (Bonus: the effects are harmless and fun ones like how they have been).

Oh no Veth... Is tiny... At least it didn’t cost any hit points? CALEB IS A SHEEP THAT WALKED INTO THE PORTAL LMAO. That was one of the wild magic effects that I wanted to see the most and it was as funny as possible.

5. Even more Aeorian ruin exploration and finding clues that may help them with the city business, but no more side combats before getting to the TT.

Caleb rolled 31 arcana on the runic circle wow transmutation + dunamancy! Temporal alteration! 31 on investigation too wow Caleb, “primal artifact”? TIME TRAVEL?? So that’s why it’s called the Temporal Dock! Also, wow, they actually did not enter any other side combats before TT, using stealth and magic. They were forced into a side combat after getting to them though.

6. Beau and Yasha continue with their PDA AND have a private moment together (let’s hope for both, because why not).

“Yasha your hair looks really great” lol Beau is not wasting any time is she. Yasha’s defensive “she’s wonderful” was ooc but cute lol. “Anything for my princess” lmao stop you guys. No private moment, but close enough.

7. Jester and Fjord heal each other at some point OR have more physical contact (they were so cute last episode).

Jester healed Fjord! I’m sad it had to happen but it was a good heal too. Jester also picked up the paralyzed Fjord after the intuit charges!

8. Continuing to hope for Essek’s fancy dunamantic spells OR magical items (I felt Caleb so hard last episode, I too am attracted to power and skills).

Purple sparkling dunamancy fly wings oh YEAH. Thanks for maintaining concentration on Cad you beautiful war caster you.

9. Veth and Fjord diss each other at some point OR exhibit support for each other, I love their love-hate relationship.

“Fjord can shape water... yes you can, you got it” lol Also the discussion about Veth preparing featherfall and Fjord’s “yes thank you Veth”. The “marine layer” argument lol - sounded both supportive and like a diss.

10. Continuing to hope for Caleb to polymorph into anything really, or using polymorph on any party member (polymorph! Caleb interactions my beloved, this is just going to be a permanent feature on my wish list now).

Intelligence 2 SHEEPLEB MY BELOVED BWAHAHAHAHAH I love this so much. It’s not exactly polymorph, but he is a sheep guys, that counts.

11. Mention of Davexian/Charlie at some point in time (bonus: Veth does it).

Lmao Beau mentioned Davexian right away, and Veth gave a reaction right away. I did not expect a mention so soon but here we are.

12. Jester continuing to be the braincell holder of the team and keeps everybody on task (go queen I love you).

YEAH go get that natural 20 Jester! Keep track of what floor it is! She also urges them to keep moving.

13. Essek and Caleb have more of their deep wizard conversations and interactions OR be impressed by each other at some point (Bonus: another party member mentions/addresses whatever they’ve got going on).

YES wow the temporal dock scene. Also Jester thanks for the mention lol. “It’s complicated” sounds about right. 

14. Cad attempting to speak with the dead on the remaining TT members (there are still Otis and Zoran) and learning some useful information.

Well... it’s kind of too late for that.

15. Jester sees Artagan again and we finally find out what Caleb was seeing during that commune and that scry (I need answers please! Don’t try to distract me with everything else going on, I won’t fall for it).

IT WAS TRUE SIGHT? It was true sight and Beau was just not close enough! Sprinkle whispering in Jester’s ear?? Someone’s theory I saw here was true good for you! Arty has been sprinkle all along that’s why sprinkle is alive.

16. More discussion about dunamancy in Aeor and the Luxon (I’d love to know how Essek is feeling about their discovery and get his thoughts on it).

Well... time travel magic circles are certainly dunamancy. Essek is as excited as you would expect him to be - very.

17. A successful divine intervention from either cleric! (Bonus: that allows them to stop the TT)

Nope, but it may happen next week? Maybe?

18. Heroes’ feast and we learn more about the food/drink preferences or other fun facts from everybody (Bonus: great roll on the HP boon from the feast).

Welp well they ain’t gonna get that one extra hour. 

19. I know they are not gonna see the tower but I still kinda want to see Essek’s room look it’s going to stay on this wish list until it happens.

Yeah I mean I didn’t really expect this to come true any time soon. 

20. Somebody pushes a red button, again (Bonus: it’s someone we don’t expect to push the button).

I mean, Beau went underwater to grab the magical potions, that was kinda button-pushing, but it’s to be expected. She is an expositor! She investigates!

21. Cad continuing to be a MVP in combat as always OR have an amazing non-combat idea/discovery.

Cad got Yasha up as soon as she was down! ALSO that shield of retribution force damage was AWESOME. The invisibility was so smart!

22. You know the drill by now - everyone remains relatively happy and alive by the end of the episode except Lucien and Cree (they can perish), and the episode ends on a terrifying cliffhanger as always (Bonus: they end up in the Astral Sea and that’s where we finish the episode).

Wow that bonus part is a PERFECT PREDICTION if I do say so myself. I knew that getting into the Astral Sea would be a good cliffhanger. I’m figuring it out guys.

Seriously though please stay safe and alive M9 (and yes Essek is included) that’s all I want.

Nobody has been dead so far, so I’m as happy as I can be!

Score: 16/22 

Other highlights:

Their exploration last episode paid off with the teal keycard! I knew it even distractions can be helpful!

Essek rolled a 30! On stealth! WOO his first great roll probably, Matt sounded so proud of him too. Also that clutch war caster concentration save too, he is finally rolling better (well, slightly).

Caleb’s decisive wall of force and two correct-level dispel magic saved everybody twice, competent as always. I love him so much (also, sheepleb my beloved).

NICE SAVE VETH THANK YOU omg what a queen with the mage hand, truly a 2000 IQ move made by a genius. Jester is safe I’m so happy!!

Wow, what an episode! As always, CR cast gave me such a wonderful night of tension, humour, action and intrigue. I am so happy and thankful that I get to witness this story unfold! I cannot wait for next Thursday, already. I am nervous about their astral sea journey, but I trust in the cast and they will always deliver a great story.

(Plus, maybe they can actually save Yussa now, pretty please?) :D

[justalittlebluetiefling]

That is an interesting thought. Where does Fjord's devotion for the Wildmother and his love for Jester lie? Do you think he would really forsake the entire world if it meant she was safe? If so where does that take his character arc, it would be a bit of backwards development for him.

Disclaimer 1: This touches on some aspects of how protective Fjord tends to be and I would like whoever reads this to know that my feelings on that character trait are nuanced and I am not going to go super in depth, because I’d like to post this at some point. I’m very aware that some people aren’t fond of that part of him and I respect that, but I like that part of him and I’ve seen a lot of the arguments for why people don’t like it and I don’t agree. So, please don’t come at me about how Jester “could punch Fjord through a wall” or whatever. I know that. Fjord knows that. He respects that. He trusts Jester and her opinions and her decisions. But his protectiveness is a major character trait that he directs at everyone and a major factor in my opinion on this, so I had to bring it up.

Disclaimer 2: I’m not really great at faith-based meta, so this is mostly focused on how Jester makes Fjord feel.

Disclaimer 3: The likelihood I think this has of happening is like.. 0.5%. The circumstances would have to be exactly right and there are multiple things that would have to go wrong for Fjord to get to a point where he was sacrificing the world for Jester. I also strongly believe there is a road that could lead Jester to this point as well, but again, a lot of things would have to go wrong.

All right! With that out of the way! Let’s get on to what might be my most controversial post. (Actually, please keep those disclaimers in mind throughout this answer.) I’ve been trying to figure out how to describe my mindset on this. Because... it’s hard. But it comes down to a few things.

Fjord’s devotion to the Wildmother and his love for Jester aren’t mutually exclusive.

It’s already been confirmed that he would have been willing to fight a god’s servant to protect her.

There are very few things that Fjord has ever let himself want in life.

And right now if there was a point where he had to choose, I think he’d choose Jester.

And here’s why.

I mean, there are a ton of reasons why. But most of all, Jester’s the first person to show him what unconditional love and support look like and it’s not something he ever thought he would have. She’s backed him up every step of the way, even when he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. And he’s been devoted to returning that. I don’t even mean this from a “romantic” love standpoint, although that’s what it’s developing into. And nothing against the Wildmother or his developing faith, but he’s still figuring out how that works. I do believe he’s devoted to being her paladin and he believes in what it means to serve her. I also believe he’s just as devoted as Jester is to stopping what’s coming. However. I don’t believe he’s devoted enough to stopping it that he would be willing to give up everything i.e. her.

I’m gonna bring back the kiln talk, because it goes back that far. And the way it relates to Jester goes back that far. Farther, actually, but these are the only real receipts I decided to pull up.

He tells her that he lost his powers and that they eventually came back.

Jester: How did you feel when they were gone? Fjord: *without hesitation* Terrified. Jester: Did you want them back? Fjord: *without hesitation* Yes. Jester: Would you do anything to get them back? Fjord: *long pause* Fjord: No.

I mean, it’s a one-on-one conversation, but he still doesn’t break focus. He’s staring at Jester the entire time. And this is where I jump into excessive speculation, but it’s always been my headcanon that Fjord here is thinking about how he wouldn’t give up Jester for his powers. I can never get the idea out of my head when I’m watching this scene, because he’s so intense about the way he’s looking at her in this moment.

So... Jester gave him the strength to move on from that and seek out the Wildmother, right? And the Wildmother accepted him. And she’s already protected him from Uk’otoa’s influence. So he has plenty of reason to already feel devoted to the Wildmother. But like I said above, his faith is developing. He feels like he’s fumbling his way through it, even though he’s a shining paragon of the tenets of his oath. 

And now, I’m going to veer off and talk about Fjord and protectiveness and how he seems extra intense about it toward Jester specifically sometimes. 

A lot of that, in my head, comes back to the Iron Shepherds. Fjord is still holding onto the blame for that. He’s never let it go. Fjord was always fairly protective, but after that, he doubled down. I don’t think very many people realize how deeply that affected him and how a lot of the way he chases Jester out into danger can be traced back to that.

I mean, really, there were three big steps in how devoted he is to Jester and her safety.

The Iron Shepherds

His promise to Marion

The second Uk’otoa temple

I don’t need to say much about his promise to Marion, but I will touch on the pirate arc pretty quick. He was spiraling here. He was trying to figure everything out and how far he would go. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that he wasn’t willing to go the distance for Uk’otoa. And I do think a lot of that was resolved in his head prior to the second temple, but his conversation with Jester there was a big one. And also, don't turn evil, okay? But if you do, I'll still be your friend. I mean, it's okay. You know, some people are evil. It's okay. Just don't turn evil to me. That whole thing was just a reminder that Jester has always been there and that he can count on her constant presence in his life.

So, after that minor spiral he had during the pirate arc, he doubled down again with the protectiveness. He came out of that determined to be for Jester what she is for him. Fjorester really does give me cute Briarwoods vibes sometimes. It’s because they’re so ride or die for each other and I think that there is definitely the possibility of them breaking the world for each other.

That brings me back to a point I mentioned above. Fjord has let himself want very few things in life. He’s lost so many things. His life has not been great. But he wants Jester almost in spite of himself and, more than that, he wants Jester to be happy. The past few episodes, though, where he’s been feeling like she’s being threatened? He’s giving off this... vibe of... almost desperation to keep her safe. He probably should have kept the necklace, but he gave it to Jester, because she’s more important. And he felt as though Lucien was targeting her specifically. And then in 118? He watched her lose five years of her life in the blink of an eye. Forgive me for the hyperbole, but Jester’s mortality was literally paraded in front of him and he saw that there is a very real chance that he might lose her in this. It was enough to get him to stop holding back and tell her how he feels, which he intended to keep under wraps until after he wrapped up his own problems.

So... this is a really long-winded way of saying that I could absolutely see him picking Jester over the rest of the world. Do I think she could talk him out of it in a very emotional scene? Yes. Do I think the Wildmother would be able to stop him? I mean, maybe. She’s a god. But I think he would break his oath for Jester. Because he’d do anything for her. But if Jester wasn’t there to talk him out of it??? 

Would this be backwards development? Absolutely. It would be a very selfish action. But love can be a pretty selfish, sometimes.  

Remember how he said that he has a problem when they were talking about stopping the city? He knows they have to stop it and he’s committed to that cause.  But, everyone has their breaking point. Right now? Fjord’s breaking point appears to be Jester. And he knows it. He has to decide how much he’d be willing to give up and I think that the things he would do to not give up Jester scare him. I don’t really think he knows what his life would be like without her at this point and I don’t think he wants to entertain the possibility. Ever.

Totally Briarwoods vibes.

If you’re thinking I’m totally wrong right now, I would like to refer you to the top where I laid out some disclaimers prior to this answer. Thanks for your time! And thanks for asking me this! 

[writing-fool]

mlqc | let’s hit rewind

What kind of videos would the MLQC guys make if they were YouTubers? I think this is a youtube!au, but to be fair, Kiro probably has a YouTube channel in canon. See it as you will? I won’t really talk about their life outside of YT/internet so you can decide for yourself whether this is an AU or not, and whether they’re a full-time YouTuber or not.

As always, enjoy, and requests are open!

Love,

R.

Warning(s): none

Victor

Victor probably has a cooking channel

scratch that. he absolutely starts as one of those Aesthetic™ cooking channels like Cooking tree, HANSE, Sweet The MI or Nino’s Home.

his channel is called Souvenir because he’s not THAT original you can’t expect everything from a man, people. 

he starts off doing these voiceless cooking videos, but after a voice and face reveal at 2 million followers where he cooks something for his followers as a thanks...well, who wouldn’t want more of that sultry voice and glorious face

currently has about 4 million subscribers

Victor’s channel is kind of comparable to Junskitchen, a rather relaxed, casual atmosphere combined with exquisite, refined cuisine

if he feels like it, he does a voice-over, otherwise he just puts calm jazz, blues or r&b over his cooking

HAS done an ASMR special. low-key dislikes the video because he has to whisper voice-overs but people LOVE it

likes making all kinds of foods, but his channel features quite a lot of sweet foods and desserts because a certain dummy has a sweet tooth

a pretty popular feature during quarantine is Cooking w/ Sou, essentially a live stream where Sou (aka Victor) cooks a whole three-course meal while talking to and instructing his followers

his subscribers notice that he doesn’t really need editing to look clean during cooking because his technique is IMMACULATE

by the end, he’s made a themed dinner for two...which always raises a question mark

is Sou single? does he have a roommate? a girlfriend? a kid? WHAT?

after getting your explicit permission, Victor addresses the situation in one of his recent Q&As

“Why do I always make dinner for two? I have a fiancée, she edits my videos in her spare time. She works as a producer. *you wave your hand over the lens* Dummy.” he breezes over it like it’s no big deal even though he’s a tad nervous about exposing something personal like this

his fans blow up the internet, baffled but not entirely surprised that someone like Sou isn’t a bachelor

of course, some leave hate under the video honestly, people who do this to celebs who start dating are HORRIBLE

most subscribers are super supportive of your relationship and thank you for the editing that makes Souvenir such a well put-together channel...also did he seriously call his fiancée a dummy? such a tsundere!

sometimes, you’ll (well, your hands...we’re keeping a bit of privacy here) even be in the end shot of videos, munching away at the carefully plated food

one day, Sou will be making a video titled Wedding Cake.

Lucien

Lucien’s channel LucidLight is a tad bit all over the place

he’s a man of many talents, and his channel reflects just that

i’m not saying it’s a disorganized channel, because the theme is very much there - the uniform theme in Luci’s content is a cozy background, a cup of tea and a soothing thumbnail

i mean that content-wise, his subscribers don’t really know what they’re going to get next...he has a slightly similar style to the YouTuber simon plant 

his content varies from interesting science theories to poetry reading sessions to ASMR to painting/sketching to cooking and much, much more

he has an heavenly soothing, smooth voice. it’s his trademark since Lucien doesn’t show his face on camera. ever. 

doesn’t have a TON of subs, because his channel is a bit of a niche thing, but I’d say he has 1,2 million subscribers and 400k followers on his added ‘business’ Instagram

he holds a lot of live streams on Instagram/YouTube (i know Moments exists in the game, but that’s more like a Facebook or Twitter kind of app...) and is always shown with just his torso and neck in frame. the lives usually include some poetry reading and generally just having a nice, relaxing chat with his followers. they can last up to 5 hours at once, and YOU know it’s because he doesn’t need sleep like a normal human being, but his fans are still asking questions about his timezone

his subscribers are strangely fascinated by his mysterious, gentle nature and also incredibly obsessed with his large, elegant hands

his ASMR videos are often roleplays of Librarian Lucien or Professor Lucien explaining to people why their rest is important

other times, they include soft affirmations, positive whispers, finger fluttering, hair touching and maybe kissing sounds...

Lucien paints a lot too, although he works primarily with ink and pencil sketches. you’ll find a watercolour or oil painting somewhere, but they’re not his most prominent media

his art videos are usually silent, although he might say something once in a while. there’s always some type of solo instrumental music playing in the background.

he does educational videos about biology and universe theories, but will also have reading sessions about scientific books

not intentionally secretive about your relationship, but he’s not one to mention it either

the first time you appeared on screen was when he was doing another live stream. he’s in his office talking about a play, when you come padding in to bid him goodnight.

“Yes, indeed. Laura’s glass menagerie, as the play suggests, is a symbol of fragility. Laura herself is very frail, but her favourite—”

“Good night, darling.” your soft voice rings through the room. viewers see Lucien’s torso turning a little bit, a hand on his shoulder and a curtain hair appearing from the top of the screen. his hand moves, presumably to cup the person’s cheek, before a soft kiss is heard through the mic. “Sleep tight, my love,” he murmurs.

“Ah. Laura’s favourite glass figurine is the unicorn, which...”

people are in uproar, but Lucien is a strong-willed man who refuses to explicitly announce the nature of his relationship.

his subscribers stop asking after a while, because it really isn’t any of their business, and they now know Lucien’s a taken man

you kind of appear on live streams accidentally a couple more times, but nothing’s really changed about Lucien’s content

the only thing he WILL say, and this is purely to give you credit, is “Ah. The background instrumentals in my art videos are played live. Yes, my lover’s very talented.”

you guys are the mysterious, talented, soft-voiced power couple of YouTube

Gavin

Gavin’s channel probably starts as a joint channel with you, something like Rachel and Jun

it’s relatively obvious from the start that Gavin from Birds&Cops is in a relationship, since you guys have a vlogging-style channel

your channel is filled with gym vlogs, travel vlogs to other countries and a lot of self-defence and sport at home videos. 

you guys also post a lot of funny vlogs talking about your day, going on fun dates, of course food vlogs in restaurants, all that stuff...

you often sit down and talk about your life, and maybe you’ll even do a mukbang during it for someone so fit, Gavin does eat a lot of food. 

Gavin’s channel didn’t blow up right away, because vlogging channels aren’t exactly unique, and he looks like the typical ‘straight boy with a girlfriend’

but he started gaining followers after people noticed how cute and blushy he acts, and how incredibly respectful and caring he is towards you

one of the most popular videos is Boyfriend Does My Makeup and it’s adorable. Gavin’s handling your face with so much care, and comments like “I know what this is, I’ve watched you do it many times.” or “Babe, does it hurt? Should I be more gentle? I’m sorry...my hands are rough.” make everyone SWOON

toxic masculinity left the chat. Gavin loves taking care of you in any way, whether it’s getting pads, chocolate and hot packs during your period or braiding your hair

in those yoga/celebrity fitness routine challenges, subs get to see Gavin in a tight singlet and sweatpants/shorts, and it’s HOLY

you’re very much aware of the attention Gavin receives from female fans, and how lucky you are to have found such a sweet partner

Gavin will usually see this type of comment while scrolling and will turn to you and go “Babe, you know I’m the lucky one here, right?”

anyways, a feature that you do to show fans the extent of Gavin’s sweet personality is Pranking My Boyfriend, where you set up the camera for a harmless prank like pretending to have a nightmare (similar to channels like Farina Jo)

that particular video was so fun to shoot, because it ended up with Gavin softly singing a lullaby to calm you down in his arms

“Baby, wake up. I’m here, you’re safe.” Gavin knows how to deal with panicking people, but he hates this prank afterwards because ‘he didn’t like seeing you in pain’

fans squealed. Birds&Cops gained like 50k subs through that video. the channel’s currently at 999k subscribers

overall, it’s just a really lovely, family-friendly channel

Kiro

Kiro knows his way around the web, alright?

not even just as Key, but he’s had a YouTube channel since the age of 15

his channel, CtrlAltChips is a hit with many people of many, many ages

he streams gaming sessions on Twitch and posts them on his YouTube channel afterwards

other content includes (primarily) covers & original songs, simple talking videos, thrifting & fashion videos, mukbangs and candid dance videos in a studio

think of chloe moriondo, doddleoddle, Victor the Drum Destroyer and Cat Strat

alternatively, for the ARMYs here, think of Jeon Jungkook as a YouTuber

Kiro has about 18 million subscribers, which is A LOT, but he’s been on YouTube for 7 years and he’s made a name for himself as a super likeable and bubbly guy with an angelic voice and killer moves

you’d think he’s just a cute boy when he sings acoustic covers, but his dance moves suggest that he’s not THAT cute

also how does he stay so fit with all those snack mukbangs?

he has a segment named In Our Kloset where he talks about social issues (because our boy uses his platform for good) around the world while customizing (not just pins. we’re talking patches, sewing, painting, embroidery) thrifted clothing to his liking. at the end he holds a little fashion show with his new outfits

after a while, you’ll see many of his outfits in giveaways or on sale for charity. Kiro tries to give back to his fans as much as he can, and how better than by sharing a piece of his unique clothing with them?

a great singer and performer. has held actual concerts before and has an actual music career (author-nim leaves it up to you readers to decide whether this is his idol career or some other musical project)

keeps his private life PRIVATE. he knows how the internet works, and he knows there’s no way he can keep your relationship a secret forever, but he’s not about to expose it to the world because of that reason

keeps tabs on information or rumours regarding you and makes them vanish

he’s simultaneously the most open and the most secretive out of the four boys. his fans know his favourite colour, what type of underwear he wears (trunks. Kiro wears trunks.), his birthday,...

but they know nothing about his past, his location, his close social circle or his family (teeechnically he’s an orphan but ig we’re talking about his mentor here. the blood of the covenant blah blah blah...y’know?). Kiro protects his loved ones fiercely

for someone who’s kept so secret, you’re actually really involved in Kiro’s virtual persona. you’re usually behind the camera during his In Our Kloset videos and are in charge of extra research regarding topics so he doesn’t spread any misinformation 

you also give pointers during filming (of course, these bits are edited out) because Kiro tends to trail off and get distracted when sewing

another way you’re involved is setting up the food during mukbangs. you have a great sense of aesthetics, so all of his videos in general will go through you.

while you like being low-key in Kiro’s life, you don’t want him to feel like he has to protect you from all the hate. 

he doesn’t particularly love keeping you a secret either, and it makes him feel guilty because he doesn’t want you to think he’s ashamed of you. he could never be.

you guys give it a good chat over how you’re going to announce it, and he just ends up making a video titled Miss Chips where the two of you sit down and talk to the camera

“Hello my little chips! Uhm, as you can see, there’s someone sitting next to me today. Maybe you already guessed from the title, but this is...my girlfriend, Miss Chips,” cue the cute jazz hands in your direction, “We’ve been dating for a long, loooong time, right, Miss Chips?”

“I just wanted to share this with you guys, since it felt wrong to keep such an important person in my life private. I hope you’re all kind to her, because I love her dearly, even to the point of giving up my snacks...so it’s serious.”

it really is that serious, hm?

Hope you enjoyed reading! 

[rosereview]

Book of the Month (Mar): A Court of Silver Flames

Okay that was a crazy ride… holy mother sh*t. I don’t even know where to start and I have so many thoughts it feels like my heart and head will explode. Just like my Chain of Gold review (which you can find on my post page) this will probably be long and full of spoilers so sorry in advance, but I just need to get it out. Also these are the other books I read in March (it was a crazy month with a SJM and Cassie Clare book!):

A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas (5 stars)

Chain of Iron by Cassandra Clare (5 stars)

Siren’s Lament Season 2 by instantmiso (5 stars)

Frankenstein 1818 edition by Mary Shelley (unrated)

Characters

So to start I of course need to talk about Nesta, her being one of the main characters, but also because it’s NESTA. Like many people, I hated Nesta for all of the previous books. Like actually hated. She just made me so mad. The only time and reason I didn’t totally hate her was during the war in ACOWAR and mostly because I wanted Cassian to be happy and I could tell they were mates. But after that, especially in ACOFAS, I disliked Nesta so much it hurt. For her whole life she (and Elain, but I’ll get to her later) just let and expected Feyre to do everything for them and keep them alive. And after all of that, she blamed Feyre for being Made into a Fae, when Feyre was literally the only reason she was alive. As an older sibling myself, that made me so mad. I would never rely on my younger sibling because I would do everything in my power to keep them safe and provided for (like what Nesta did for Elain, which also riled me up because Feyre never got the same treatment). Going into this book I was worried that this whole thing was going to be about Nesta being a whiny bitch, but instead, the redeeming feature of Nesta, was her knowledge and acknowledgment of how shitty of a sister she’s been. I know that it took her a long time to actually be nice again, but I was happy that she actually knew that she was being terrible and deep down wanted to be better. She wasn’t just being terrible because she felt entitled which was the vibe I got from her before, but instead was terrible because she thought it was too late to get better. After that I thought her journey was very relatable and heart wrenching. While I still was mad every time she got mad and was mean to Feyre or any of the Night Court group, I could still sympathize how she felt like she was intruding on their family and that she didn’t fit in. 

Now let’s talk about Cassian— I love him. That’s about it. JK… Okay, I have always loved Cassian, but this book made me appreciate him in a more emotional way. All of his insecurities had me crying for him while relating to him so well too, and when we heard more about his mother and how when he was younger he didn’t get physical touch which is why now he always needs physical touch… MY HEART COULDN’T HANDLE IT! God, that was such a precious moment when he needed to hug and kiss Feyre’s forehead, because that’s how he best shows affection and needs affection warmed my heart in so many ways, but also made me cry. And although it hurt me when Cassian would doubt himself and feel lesser because he was born a bastard, I still felt that pain brought Nesta and him closer in more ways. It wasn’t just him helping her, but she helped him too, and both allowed each other to grow on their own but also together. I fucking loved that. 

Relationships

Now I’m just going to jump right into relationships, because I feel like individual characters besides Nesta and Cassian can only really be talked about through their relationships with other characters since it was only Nesta and Cassian’s povs in the book.

So first let’s talk about (obviously) Nesta and Cassian— I mean I already started to talk about them together above, but this book was so powerful for me because of the way the two of them worked together to heal themselves. That was beautiful. But also it is a tiny bit annoying how both Feyre and Nesta were unaware of their frickin mate bonds! I know, I know… neither were born Fae so they don’t have the same knowledge of the mate bonds that everyone else does, but come on! I knew Nesta and Cassian were mates since they first met! And I know that it definitely wouldn’t have been smart or healthy for Nesta to accept the mate bond at the beginning, but at the end when she still has to talk to Cassian like he isn’t her mate, after they literally consummated the mate bond on several occasions, I was kind of annoyed. I know it was still part of her growth, but also wild that she still was playing dumb like that. But I’m happy they finally admitted everything at the end.

Next let’s discuss the Archeron sisters— So really their relationship at the start just made me sad, seeing none of them get along (except Feyre and Elain). Especially since I still kind of felt like everyone should just be falling at Feyre’s feet and apologizing about how terrible they were for mostly her whole life (even Elain, since she also never helped keep them alive in the human world. Really she was just as bad as Nesta but wasn’t an outright bitch about it). But even though Nesta was encouraging nasty behaviour from them (because she was also being mean) Feyre and Elain both were just as mean to her sometimes. I mean, when Elain went to the house and Nesta and her got in an argument, Elain was just as harsh as Nesta was to her. But I guess Elain has just never been my favourite person. I’m still a little pissed how both Feyre and Nesta do everything for her and she just sits still and looks pretty, but I’m betting that will change in future books. Anyways, I was very happy at the end of the book that all three sisters got on good terms and even went to visit their father’s grave together. That last scene got me pretty emotional. 

Nesta & Emerie & Gwyn— In contrast with the Archeron sisters’ relationship, I loved this new friendship that Nesta found with Emerie and Gwyn. I think now that Nesta found those two, she really appreciates the relationship between family that isn’t blood, because they are now like her sisters too. I loved both Emerie and Gwyn so much in this book and I was so happy that Nesta found them and let them into her life. Feyre found a family in the Inner Night Court, and Nesta found her own people with her Valkyries, and that felt very poetic to me. The family you choose is the family that sticks with you forever (although you can choose blood family too, and I’m glad Nesta found her way back to Feyre and Elain, but I’m glad she found more family too). 

Nesta & Amren— Okay, this relationship had me very mad for most of the book because I just wanted to scream at Nesta so bad! I can’t believe that Nesta got mad for “choosing” Feyre’s side, when literally Feyre and Amren were family first! Amren and Feyre were close and part of the Night Court family before Nesta came in, and even though I was happy that Nesta was making friends with Amren, she can’t get mad at Amren for being friends with Feyre too! Especially since she was friends with Feyre first! Again, not saying that Amren and Nesta being friends was a bad thing, I just got mad that Nesta was being so weird about it when she has no claim on Amren to be just her friend. Sorry I just had to get that off my chest, but I am happy that both of them seem to be friends again now :)

Nesta & Rhysand— Throughout the book I totally understood both Nesta and Rhysand being unfriendly to each other, but boy was I in tears when Rhysand fell to his knees before Nesta because of what he did for Feyre. That was the most beautiful brother-in-law/sister-in-law moment in the entire world. Really I don’t want to even talk about Nesta and Rhys’s relationship in most of this book because I feel like that’s now in the past, I just want to focus on their amazing family relationship going forward, because now they will be in-laws from both sides (Feyre and Nesta being sisters, and Rhys and Cassian being brothers). 

Nesta & the House— This was a beautiful relationship and I was beyond happy that Nesta became best friends with the House. Super heart-warming and those are honestly my only thoughts. I can’t wait to see more of Nesta and the House in the future!

Cassian & Rhys & Azriel— Again, I just love the three of them! Their brotherly bond is adorable, but it also makes my heart break when they all take on each other's pain, because it’s just so beautiful and sad at the same time. I don’t know how else to explain it. When Cass and Az still feel hurt about not being able to help Rhys when he was underneath the mountain, and the pain Rhys and Az feels for Cass’s past, and the same for Az’s past. It’s beautiful but sad because I can just feel the love they have for each other and the true pain they feel and it hurts me too. 

The Night Court Inner Circle— This is also just a short pop in to say how much I love this whole family together: Rhys, Az, Cass, Feyre, Mor, Amren, and now Nesta, Elain, and Nyx. They are all a big beautiful family that makes my heart ache just thinking about them. I can’t wait for more scenes about all of them interacting with baby Nyx, because that will kill me and give my life again in the best way possible (again not sure if that made sense, but that’s the only way to explain it).

And for the big finale in relationships… my Elain/Azriel/Lucien/Gwyn thoughts— to start off, I’m not dissing any ship anyone makes and I think all thoughts are valid. But I don’t know, for some reason I just don’t think Az and Elain are meant for each other. I just think it’s too obvious and cliché (for lack of a better word) to have all three brothers fall in love with all three sisters. BUT I also see how it is obvious and cliché to have mates end up together too. So I really don’t know what to expect. But one thing is for sure— and again no hate please— but I totally understand why Elain and Lucien are mates and “equals”. Throughout this book it is mentioned multiple times that Elain doesn’t belong in the Night Court while Nesta definitely does (like the scene where they visit the Court of Nightmares but I do remember it being mentioned other times as well). This also explains why Azriel’s shadows don’t go close to Elain, because she literally represents light. Lucien on the other hand, is literally the son and heir to Helion, High Lord of the Day Court (even if he is unaware at the moment), the ambassador to the Spring Court (full of light and flowers), and ambassador to the human lands, somewhere Elain misses very much. I know none of this should mean he has any claim to her, but it definitely makes sense why they would be considered mates and “equals”, because Lucien’s birth and life matches the light that Elain represents. Just some food for thought. And concerning Gwyn and Az, I just think they would be really cute together, honestly. I think that Az being the first one to rescue Gwyn on the most traumatic day of her life is significant, and will have something to do with Gwyn’s own healing in some way, but of course that doesn’t have to mean sexual or romantic. I thought both of the extra bonus scenes at the end of ACOSF (yes I’ve read both) are really setting up for the next book which will cover Elain and Az’s journeys, but I don’t think that means they will get together. I thought Rhys’s comment about Elain in the Feysand one was very true, and Elain isn’t the innocent helpless girl we’ve been made to believe. I think she has a lot to share from her own story, and I think that Az needs to have his moment in the spotlight too. 

Plot

Lastly, let’s talk about plot, which is essentially the next war that may be gearing up to happen. I hope for all of my babies’ sakes it won’t happen and it’ll just be a little negotiation and everything will be well, but I have a feeling that won’t happen. This dude in this lake is very intriguing though (sorry, can’t remember his name) and I’m excited to see what will happen next. But most importantly, I think in the future a lot of shit will happen with Mor too, because since she was gone so much in this book I think that’s SJM getting us ready for a big Mor moment. I have a feeling there was more to her negotiating on the other continent than we know about yet, and also I feel like there's something more about what happened with her and Eris that I’m excited to find out about. 

I just feel like this was more of a character driven book (which are my favourite books) than a plot driven book, and a lot of the information we learned in ACOSF will be more important in the future books. So for now, I’m okay with not talking about it (although side note, I’m really happy that crone queen bitch is dead. I did not like her!)

So thanks for reading till the end if you did. Sorry for any grammar or spelling errors; I’m too tired to read over this. 

Until next time!

~Rose Reviews

[ibelongtowrath]

I Forgot To Say “Goodnight” - MLQC Gavin (NSFW)

Summary: It's been a long day of investigating the mysterious illness that seems to be plaguing Loveland. Gavin brings you home, only to be stuck for the night from an impromptu quarantine. Rating: Explicit! 18+ NSFW Relationship: Gavin x Reader, Gavin x Female Reader (1st person) Tags: oral sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, fluff and smut, eventual smut Word Count: 4,406

Read on AO3

Notes: This is my first ever fanfic, and I had to go big by writing a smut one! I hope you like it!

It’s late, almost midnight, so everything is quiet as Gavin and I walk through the door of my apartment; almost eerily so, adding to the already dismal mood I’ve been in for the past hour. A whole day spent investigating, only to end up with no answers as to the mysterious illness that’s been going around Loveland. People have been falling ill left and right, with seemingly no explanation as to why. Evol powers have been getting out of control lately in Loveland, the amount of incidents skyrocketing exponentially since last month. 

Before I enter the door behind Gavin, I steal a quick glance across the hall, and just as quickly, look away and walk through the doorway. It’s been weeks, and not a single word from Lucien.

He might have an idea what’s going on. Lucien...  

Suddenly, the memory of his betrayal flashes before me. Raw anger and sadness grip my heart for a split second, and I have to suppress a gasp. The thoughts weigh down on my mind, and I feel a sigh escape from my lips.  I can’t think about this now. I can’t.

My eyelids suddenly feel heavy, as though they’re made of bricks, and I’m struggling to keep them open. Giving in to the fatigue, I allow myself a moment of sweet darkness as my lids close slowly. Gavin,  sweet, sweet Gavin , catches my arm as I stumble forward.

“Are you okay?” he asks, studying me, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Yeah,” I answer, opening my eyes further. “I’m just...tired.” My eyes meet his, their honey-colored amber hue daring me to get lost in them. He squints slightly, then lets his eyes soften as he relaxes his brow. He releases my arm once I’m stable and standing up straight. I lean against the counter, studying him as he faces me.

“We’ve had a long day. That’s understandable. You’ve been working yourself to the bone.”

I nod in agreement. I take a second to admire the way his light brown hair falls messily, but carefully at the same time, across his handsome face. I know he has to leave soon, now that he knows I’m safe. 

But... I kind of wish he doesn’t have to leave.

I shake my head furiously at the absurd thought, mentally picturing myself crumpling it into a ball, and throwing it away. I had been dealing with these confusing feelings for a while now; stowing them in the back of my mind, not quite sure how to sort them.

Gavin is always there for me, when I need him most. He’s always ready to rescue me, telling me that as long as I’m in the wind, he can find me. It was difficult trying to reason with myself as to why my heart pounded harder, harder every time I thought of him. I’m always the damsel in distress, and he’s always my knight in shining armor. 

I realize Gavin’s still looking at me, and feel the heat of shame rush to my cheeks, even though he has no idea what I was thinking. The dimmer switch is on low, casting a hazy light over the kitchen. I silently pray that the lighting gods have blessed me, and Gavin can’t see the embarrassment written on my face.  I wonder if he thinks these things about me ...I cough abruptly, then look up at him.

“Thank y-” 

The shrill, ear-splitting sound of a siren suddenly interrupts my gratitude. I instinctively clap my hands over my ears, wincing at the sound. Gavin looks around, assessing the situation calmly. He’s so good at this, and I’m...not. He looks at me, then turns towards the door.

“Stay here,” he demands as he goes to leave the apartment. As he opens the door, the wail of the siren shrieks louder. He steps out the door, and the alarm ceases. I sag in relief. Glancing out the window, I see familiar red and blue lights, flashing brightly against the dim light of the apartment. Gavin turns back around to look at me again, stepping forward, and-

“Attention. Attention. ” A loud male voice stops us yet again. “ Please remain in your respective homes. We are enacting a temporary quarantine until further notice, effective immediately. There is no immediate cause for alarm. Please remain in your home, and do not leave under any circumstances. We anticipate opening the building back up again sometime tomorrow. Thank you.”

What is going on? Is it this serious ? I shake my head. I can’t help but wonder if Lucien is in his apartment, and secretly wish I could ask if he has any idea what’s happening.

I hear the click of a door being closed, my head turning towards the sound, and realize it’s Gavin. He reaches his arm behind his head, gazing towards the floor, an impassive look on his face. It finally hits me, the fact that he is unable to leave, and will have to spend the night. I feel myself blushing furiously again, silently cursing myself for my earlier wish.

Be careful what you wish for, dummy …

I inhale deeply, attempting to control the frenzied chaos of the varied emotions swirling around inside of me. My eyes meet his, and he gives me a reassuring smile.

“Looks like I’m not going anywhere, so I’ll be able to protect you a little bit longer,” Gavin says. I feel a wave of gratitude overtake all the other feelings, and I’m finally able to focus. “Everything will be okay.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, returning his smile. “I’m sorry, my couch probably isn’t all that comfortable…” I trail off, because my next extremely intrusive thought slams its way into my head:  We could share my bed …

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” There’s that reassuring look again. The way his face softens when he looks at me just about does myself in. Afraid I’m going to suddenly collapse into a pile of bouncy Jell-O on the floor, I force my legs to move to the closet, where I grab a blanket and a spare pillow for Gavin to use. I fold the blanket gently over the couch, placing the pillow on one of the arm rests.

I must look nervous, and I do feel a bit shaky; suddenly Gavin crosses the room just then, and gives me a soft, reassuring squeeze of my shoulder. I startle a bit, then look up at him. A sense of calm comes over me. I truly feel safe whenever he’s with me.

Looking back at the couch, I cough again. “If you need anything else, just let me know. Oh, and, if you need to…,” I trail off again, trying to quell the heat threatening to betray my calm exterior, “you can use the shower. I have plenty of towels in the linen closet, and if you don’t mind smelling like lavender, the shampoo and conditioner are yours to use too. Oh, and there’s a spare toothbrush.”

He laughs, patting the top of my head. “You’re always thinking of everyone else before yourself,” he tells me. “Go to sleep. You need it.”

I look up at him, grinning. “Okay, Officer Gavin.” I salute him, and he laughs again as I walk away towards my bedroom. I open the door, close it gently, then run and collapse onto the bed, a deep sigh escaping me. I feel my eyelids grow heavy again. I’m exhausted, and ready to welcome the sweet, dark embrace of sleep.

A few minutes later, I hear the click of the bathroom door closing, and the  swish  sound of the shower turning on. Just then, I realize I never actually said “good night” to Gavin, and, being the way I am, it bothers me. I resolve to wait until he’s out of the shower, then tell him. It will make me feel better, especially since I barely got to say “thank you” for always being by my side.

About twenty minutes pass. The water shuts off, and a few minutes later, I hear the bathroom door open. I cross my room, open up the door and walk out. Cheerfully, I pad my way over to the living room.

“I forgot to say goodn-” 

Immediately, the sight in front of me causes the part of my brain that controls my speech to fizz out. Gavin is standing in the living room, with only a grey plush towel wrapped around him, sitting low on his hips. His arms are raised, drying off his hair with another towel. The ripple of his strong, muscular shoulders flex with the movement of his arms. Several scars decorate his deltoids, tempting me into tracing their outlines; to feel the stories hidden deep within them. At the sound of my voice, he turns around. He looks surprised, but the look quickly turns into something else that I can’t quite place.

I am absolutely floored, and nearly have to grab the doorway to prevent myself from falling to the ground. The beautiful, intricate muscles I could see when his shirt had accidentally lifted, are finally on full display. His broad, strong shoulders and his chest are still slick with a slight sheen from the water. 

His arms are perfectly sculpted, as are his chiseled six-pack abs; they, too, glisten with tiny beads of water, dripping over the taut ridges of his abdomen. Even the muscles around his clavicle are taut and defined; I want to bury myself in his neck and breathe him in. 

For a split second, I let my eyes drift down to his low-hanging towel that shows off a delicious, tantalizing line of muscle by his hips; that perfect v-line, driving me crazy, and in the middle of it, I can see the happy trail of fine, light brown hairs that travel from his navel down to where I can’t see...but I wished, more than anything, that I could.

“I, uh, I...I forgot to say ‘goodnight,’” I stuttered. My face is so hot, it feels like it could burst into flames at any moment. 

The impassive look on Gavin’s face quickly softens. He relaxes his arms, resting the towel around his neck. He smiles, taking a step towards me. 

“You’re so cute.”

Okay, now my face is absolutely  flaming . I can only imagine that my skin tone looks akin to a tomato at this point. Quickly, I turn around to retreat back into my bedroom. As I’m turning, I feel Gavin’s warm hand grip my arm, gently forcing me to turn back towards him. Up close, the sight of him is even more disorienting, and I can’t help but look down where the towel is hanging off of him.

Suddenly, his hand moves from my arm, tracing the curve of my neck. He cradles my face in his hand, gently moving my head from its downward position so that I’m looking straight up at him. Our eyes meet, and this close, I can’t help but to fall in deep; deep into those beautiful, honey-colored eyes that I never want to look away from. The only way I can describe the emotion in his eyes is...hungry.

His lips part slightly. His thumb traces over my lips, surprising me with how soft his skin feels. I can smell the relaxing lavender perfume of the shampoo in his hair. I feel myself compulsively leaning into him, our bodies now pressed together. I want nothing more than to kiss him, to feel his lips on mine.

Gavin leans in, lips soft on my neck. He kisses it gently. Slowly, methodically, he kisses my neck again, making his way to my jawline. He gently presses me forward, so that my back is leaning against the arm of the couch. Finally, he presses his mouth to my own, which I part slightly, ready for him. At the touch of his lips, I feel a burst of heat travel down my body, and it feels as though I am blooming under his touch. His lips are surprisingly soft, and I don’t want it to stop.

I bite down gently on his lower lip, and his tongue makes its way to meet mine. I hook my left leg around his waist and he pulls his tongue away, while a soft moan escapes his lips. My arms are around him, and I dig my nails into his shoulders, as if he’s anchoring me to that spot; I don’t want to move, or for him to stop, for that matter. Surely, he can feel the pounding  thump, thump  of my heart against his chest.

His mouth presses down on my neck again. I feel his hand gently reaching under my t-shirt, gliding along the curve of my waist; the touch sending shivers up my spine. Gavin’s hand travels further up, up, and he cups my left breast, causing a small moan to escape from my lips. I can feel his toweled erection between my legs. My own excitement starts to thrum, and I can feel the arousal drenching my underwear.

At that moment, Gavin pulls away. I feel suddenly cold, the absence of his body on mine almost like a shock to my system. I pant slightly, aching for his touch again. He holds his head in his hands, shaking it furiously.

“I can’t...I’m so sorry,” he says, walking towards the front of the couch. He sits down, still holding his head, which is hanging low. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. God, I…” he trails off.

My legs are a bit shaky, but I make my way over and stand in front of Gavin. He drops his hands into his lap, looking up at me. His eyes widen, and I know he’s drinking in the sight: my lips are pink and swollen, my hair messily falling around my shoulders, and eyes full of desire.

“Gavin...I want you. I  need  you,” I tell him. He doesn’t say anything as he watches me move towards him. “I don’t want you to stop. Please.” Feeling bold, I don’t let Gavin answer; instead, I straddle him, my legs on either side of his waist. He inhales sharply, then grins, his mood visibly shifting.

He presses himself against me again, and I feel his soft lips against the curve of my right breast through my t-shirt. Every touch feels like sparks igniting on my skin. I feel so powerful in that moment, so bold and sexy. I pull away from him briefly, cross my arms to grip the bottom of my shirt, then lift it above my head and off onto the floor. Gavin’s breath hitches, and I feel his arms reach around my back and onto the hook closure of my bra, undoing it so smoothly I barely feel it come loose.

I let the straps fall off my shoulders, and the bra drops to the floor, my breasts now completely exposed. Gavin puts his mouth to mine again, and I grind my hips against his legs, pushing closer, both our bare chests now pressed together. 

The fire returns, shooting straight from my heart down to my hips, and landing between my legs. The desire I feel burns deep; all I can think about is Gavin and his body, and I feel his hardness pressing against me again, which only helps to stoke the fire within. His mouth travels downwards towards my breasts again, while he stops along the way with short, tender kisses against my hot skin. 

His right hand caresses my left nipple gently as his lips make their way down, and I groan. Then, I feel his lips on my right nipple, his tongue flicking at it gently, and I shudder slightly with the pleasure of it, small goosebumps forming on my skin. I lose track of time, with no idea of how long we’ve been pressed together like this; eventually, Gavin pulls away from my breasts and makes his way back to my lips, his tongue meeting mine again, hot and heavy with lust, almost greedily. 

Gavin leans back then, pulling our bodies apart, and I look at him. The yearning, raw desire written all over his face is so satisfying. I hold his amber gaze steadily, and he leans in towards me, mouth next to my ear. He nibbles lightly on the lobe, making me bite my lip to hold back a whimper. Suddenly, he picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, and he places me on the kitchen counter.

“How badly do you want me?” he whispers, his voice husky, leaning into me, asking the breathy question directly into my ear. His breath tickles deliciously. The throbbing heat and desire between my legs won’t stop growing, and I can feel how wet I am with the anticipation.

“I could tell you,” I purr, my voice dripping with honey, “but it would be much easier to  show you.” 

I take his hand and guide it under my soft shorts, letting his fingers hook gently underneath my underwear. Gavin’s breath hitches again, and his fingers venture in further, gently massaging me. The fire is now an inferno, impossible to put out. Then he slides two fingers inside of me, and I cry out in pleasure. 

“Mph!” My moans are muffled by his tongue on mine. Gavin’s fingers curve upwards and down, in a come-hither motion, and I lean back on both my elbows onto the counter; my back arching, my body writhing in the thrill of it. I pull him closer to me, and he leans into my neck, biting the skin gently and sucking. I move my hips along with the rhythm of his fingers, and the delicious mix of pain and pleasure drives me to the edge. I cry out again as the orgasm shudders through me, my nails raking across the skin of Gavin’s shoulders.

I come back down, breathing heavily. Gavin removes his fingers from inside of me, and I grab his hand, sucking on his fingers with my tongue, tasting myself. I’m so  hungry , hungry for more of him; more of his touch that sears my skin. At that moment, he tugs my shorts down my hips, taking my panties with them. They drop to the floor, and he looks at me then, taking in the sight. It’s a gaze filled with such raw desire, and he swallows, all thoughts of the self-control he was trying to have earlier completely erased at the sight of my pretty pussy on full display, the evidence of my arousal dripping down my thighs.

I let my hand trail the fine hairs of his lower abdomen, retreating into the towel still somehow wrapped around his hips. He’s rock hard, and I wrap my fingers around his dick gently, teasing them down the shaft until my thumb circles the head, caressing it lightly. I repeat this a few times, feeling the slick wetness of his pre-cum on my finger. I grin, and Gavin moans into my neck.

“Wait,” he groans, and backs away. “Not here.”   

I can’t help but look at him in that moment, his breathing labored, desire wild in his eyes. I hop off the counter, my legs a little unsteady. I take Gavin’s hand in mine, and lead him into my bedroom, the lights still off. Out of habit, I pull the door closed, even though I live alone. The window is open slightly, a warm breeze caressing our bare skin as we walk towards the bed.

Gavin sits on the bed, grabbing my hips and pulling me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him again. He finally undoes the towel knotted around his hips, and his cock springs out as the fabric pools underneath him. I grab him again, stroking him gently, smiling devilishly at the delicious feeling, knowing I’m doing this to him. Suddenly, Gavin stands up, lifting me with him, and gently lowers me down onto the bed, spreading my legs with his knee.

“You came already, but I'm feeling generous, so I’m going to give it to you again,” Gavin coos. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do next, but all I know is that I want him, desire him in a way I’ve never felt about anyone else. He presses his mouth to my navel, planting kisses as he makes his way down the contours of my body. His lips leave a trail of fire down my abdomen.

His lips graze my inner thigh, and again on the other side. My pussy throbs with the anticipation. The feeling of it is so delicious, so tantalizing, I hunger for more. I feel Gavin’s tongue between my legs, licking and sucking my clit ever so slightly, driving me wild with the pleasure of it.

He pulls his tongue away, replacing it with his fingers. His thumb begins to circle my nub, and I cry out. His fingers find their way back into my pussy, and they plunge in and out of me. His tongue resumes its rightful place licking around my clit at the same time. I feel the orgasm start to crescendo, and instinctively buck my hips against Gavin’s face. He hooks an arm around my leg, holding me down, not missing a beat of pleasure.  I relax my body, and as I reach the climax, I feel a gushing between my legs.

“Gavin!” I cry out. I lose control then; legs shaking, my body nearly spasming with the orgasm, arching my back, and then pitching my body forward. My legs still parted, Gavin comes up, then leans forward and presses his dick against me. My legs are still shaking, and I’m so, so wet. I can feel the fluid dripping down the bottom of my thighs.

“Good girl,” murmurs Gavin into my neck. His dick presses harder against me. He thrusts into me then, filling me up with himself, and I gasp at how big he is. I’m so wet, so ready to take him in, that it doesn’t hurt; just a slight pressure, and it feels so good. He begins to thrust back and forth, leaning over me, lips pressed against my neck, groaning softly. I arch my back and he lifts my hips up, making the angle deeper.

My arms are around Gavin’s neck, and I thread my fingers into his soft, still slightly damp hair. He continues slamming into me, moving his mouth down lower as he does, tonguing my nipple. The feeling has my blood thrumming with the pleasure of it, my entire body electrified; then, suddenly, he pulls out. He’s panting heavily, raking his eyes over my body as I’m in this compromised position. He leans over me, stroking my face gently; a gesture that doesn’t match the hungered, lustful look in his glistening amber eyes.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “you feel so good...I was about to bust and I’m not ready yet.” 

I sit up on my knees, facing him. “Let me ride you, and I bet it’ll be even harder for you to not lose it.” 

He grins, challenging me, and we switch positions: he lays on the bed, and, finally, straddling him, I’m in control. I lower myself onto his cock leaning over him to press my face into his neck, and begin rocking my hips back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. He moves with me, our movements in sync, hands on my hips, guiding me up and down with the tempo of our own song. My head is in the clouds, filled with ecstasy; the feeling of power that comes with knowing that I’m in charge of his pleasure. I feel so amazing, so sexy; something I haven’t felt in months, and I’m relishing every second of it.

Gavin keeps his hands on my hips as I move up and down slowly, then a little faster. “Ugh, fuck,  fuck …” I hear him murmur after a little while. I lean back, curving my body slightly, opening up the angle a bit. My breasts are bouncing with our in-sync movement. I feel Gavin move his hand from my hip, further down; taking advantage of the angle, he begins to circle my clit with his thumb again. 

I’m still sensitive from the previous orgasm, and, mixed with the pleasure of his cock thrusting in and out of me, feeling my pussy tighten around him with anticipation. I dissolve into the pleasure, like a spring coiling tightly, and then releasing; the delicious wave of fire and lightning coursing from between my legs all the way up into my chest. 

“Gavin,” I whimper, leaning over him once again, and he kisses me gently. We resume our previous rhythm, and I know he’s getting close. He grunts, deepening the kiss, then shudders slightly and moans against my lips as he emptied himself into me, filling me with his seed. 

Gavin pulls out, and lays next to me on the bed, cradling my face in his hands. He cups my cheek, and I nuzzle my head into his hand.

“Gavin…,” I whisper, not quite sure what to say. He kisses the top of my head, stroking my hair gently.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into my hair. I bury my face into his chest, both of ours rising and falling with the same rhythm. It’s so late, and suddenly I feel so worn out, and so comfortable in his embrace, that I feel my eyelids flutter. I can’t keep them open anymore, and, with Gavin stroking my hair, fall into a deep sleep.

When I wake, it’s light out. I rise slowly, leaning on my arm, and notice the bed is empty next to me.  Gavin ? He probably got called out on a mission, and had to leave. I walk out of my room and into the living room, glancing at the unused blanket and pillow still sitting on the couch. Smiling, I pick them up to put them back into the linen closet. On my way there, I see a small yellow note, decorated with gingko leaves, folded on the counter. Confused, I pick the note up and unfold it carefully.

Good morning , it says, in Gavin’s handwriting. I grin unabashedly, closing my eyes, remembering his touch. As though in answer, a warm breeze trickles through the open window, gently reminding me that Gavin is always with me, no matter where I am.

[pike-the-monstah]

alright, so this is the silliest post i’ve ever made, but i think i will elaborate on the somnovem/bugsnax au, actually

(praying that tumblr doesn’t fuck up the readmore because this got long)

the au takes place in a world that’s a bizarro blend of both series, shortly after some version of the iron shepherds arc. please do not question anything about the logistics of this world, because there are no answers. molly dies, but for whatever reason, the mighty nein don’t cross paths with caduceus just yet. cree has been following the mighty nein a lot more closely in this au, so when the mighty nein visit molly’s grave on their way home, it’s already empty.

the tomb takers are on a mission to spread bugsnax to the rest of the world (instead of the somnovem)a. lucien, newly revived (god knows how that all went down), works with cree to rebuild the tomb takers and locate snaktooth island, while the mighty nein set out to track down molly. eventually, the tomb takers find their way to snaktooth, and once the mighty nein learn where the group has gone, they put together an expedition to follow. 

their recruits:

shakaste, cali, and keg are obvious choices, as previous allies. i’d throw nila in there too, but, given how her mini-arc ended, i think the m9 would probably want her to stay with her family

reani hasn’t met the group yet, but she’s been receiving visions from samliel telling her of a great danger on snaktooth island. she’s already been searching for a way to get there, and happily joins up with the mighty nein.

essek also hasn’t met the group yet, but, like floofty, essek has somehow gotten whiff of the possibilities of the place and is intrigued. he’s looking for a way to get there that isn’t outright suicidal, and joining this group seems convenient enough.

and finally, the last member is twiggy- just like in canon, they meet her when she stows away on their ship.

(also yasha sticks with the mighty nein in this au, to find out what happened)

the gang arrives on snaktooth island, and at first, things are fine. this is early campaign, though, before a lot of character growth for everyone, so cracks quickly begin to show. it all comes to a head in a big fight that leads to most of the group going their separate ways, and this is where caduceus comes in.

caduceus serves the newcomer/pseudojournalist role, and he has probably not been having the best time. like in canon, the wildmother is pretty fucking concerned about this place and seems to want him to do something about it, but, unlike in canon, he doesn’t have the mighty nein to travel with. it’s not the easiest journey for anyone alone, and, of course, it ends with his airship crash-landing in the middle of a storm. he does, however, meet fjord and jester.

fjord and jester vaguely take on filbo’s role in this au- when the group split, they stayed in town, and are doing their best to bring the village back together. in the middle of the storm, they witnessed the crash, and hurried up to flavor falls to find the airship’s (former) occupant. pretty weird way to meet someone, but, after a bit of exposition, they enlist caduceus’s help.

on their way back to snaxburg, they meet keg in the garden grove. keg is not exactly good with difficult social situations, and the one that led to the group falling apart was a clusterfuck. now that things have calmed down, though, they manage to convince her to return, although probably after some wambus-style “get revenge on that annoying bunger” quests. they also run into shakaste here, but i don’t think he ever really left town- he honestly seems too level-headed.

the five of them reach snaxburg, and the quests to reunite everyone else begin:

caleb and veth are living in the simmering springs. even though their attachment to the group solidified after molly’s death, the transformative powers of the bugsnax and the possibilities for veth(/nott) were too tempting not to investigate. they maybe went a little overboard experimenting, though, leading to arguments with the rest of the group, who grew increasingly concerned and alarmed at what the pair were doing. caleb and veth left the village to continue their studies in peace, but, since they haven’t been having much success, it’s not too difficult to convince them to return.

essek is nearby in the boiling bay for similar reasons, and he, caleb, and veth formed a loose Science Collective in their time away from the rest of the group. this is early campaign essek, though, so he’s still kinda keeping to himself, and it takes longer for him to agree to come back.

cali and twiggy are in the scorched gorge. while investigating the island, cali found evidence of a past cult of the caustic heart presence (if triffany’s grandma and grumpbeard can both have inexplicably died on snaktooth, then so can a member of the cult of the caustic heart lmao), and left the village to investigate. i genuinely think twiggy and cali would be very fast friends, and with everyone going their separate ways, twiggy found someone to stay with rather than stick around for all the fighting. once a caustic heart artifact is located and destroyed, both are willing to come home.

reani is living out in the sizzling sands. the thing about reani is that, due to her dreams, she’s probably the first to suspect the real nature of the island, but, due to the canonical mind-warping powers of bugsnax, reani has a very difficult time convincing anyone else. this is early in her character arc, too, when she has a very strict view on morality, and as much as she liked everyone else initially, the others refusing to stop their bugsnax experimentation/consumption/etc would probably cause some friction. it takes the gang working through some shit for her to return later on.

beau is up in sugarpine woods. pre-kamordah, she’s still struggling with the “leave them before they leave you” mentality, and when the group fell apart, she went yeah, fuck it, guess that’s all i get, and bolted. now that everyone’s coming back together, though, they’re able to convince her to return.

and then, finally, yasha is the eggabell equivalent in frosted peak. as the group started to fracture, she felt they were all losing sight of the real goal of the trip, and did her early campaign yasha thing and just left. like eggabell, she’s been pushing herself hard to find molly, and she refuses to return to snaxburg until he’s rescued.

so the gang is all reunited, character growth takes place, interpersonal conflicts are resolved, and they even make progress on finding molly. great! too bad the volcano’s about to blow. yasha figures out how to get the door open, and the group splits up to defend the town and investigate the undersnax.

and in the undersnax, they discover lucien. turns out that when the tomb takers made it to the island, all of them were consumed except lucien, who managed to take control like lizbert. in a way, this was his plan- take control over the island to bring its powers to the mainland- but he’s struggling. the bugsnax do have mind-warping abilities and are fighting back, so it’s taking him longer than expected to achieve anything (which, despite the natural disasters, is sort of keeping the gang safe, since the island is focused on another threat). the appearance of his old friends destabilizes him even more, and shit starts to really go sideways. part of his mind starts to say, hey, if he lets the island win just a little bit and consume this group, then he can send them back to the mainland as patient zero(s), right? surely, now that he’s in power, they won’t just crumble to dust like the rest of the tomb takers, and he can remain behind to rule the island as a god. all he needs to do is let the island have what it wants, which, right now, is to go full aggro on the mighty nein.

so the bugsnax attack, beginning the “escape from snaktooth” sequence. the gang probably fights some giant monstrosities similar to not-cree, and there’s plenty of opportunity for parallels to gaining eye tattoos during battle. and for sentiment’s sake, right at the end when their airship is about to be knocked out of the sky, a little bit of molly returns just for a moment, and he fulfills lizbert and eggabell’s role as last-minute savior for the rest of the gang.

they all escape but, given who they are, i imagine it’s just to regroup before returning to solve the problem once and for all (and probably to see if that little bit of molly can be rescued in the process).

misc details: au is pretty ship-neutral but, yknow, maybe beau was following yasha up into the mountains, just a little bit. it’s probably also more ensemble-focused than the game, as opposed to the video game logic of caduceus just running around doing everything for everyone else. also, heavily considered a mighty-nein-never-met version of the au where journalist!beau investigates the island as an expositor, but ultimately, this version felt like it had stronger reasons for everyone to be there in the first place.

[dafukdidiwatch]

Chapter 9 and 10 End

Got to go, running late on things. Will do recap later

TL;DR: I’m screaming, parent issues are are abundant as abusive and manipulation, and I have a new ship going on.

Edit: Ok I am back and I have new theories on everything going on because Fuck I’m down the rabbit hole here. Where or where do I fucking begin.

Really this session just hammers down the different type of abuse that poor Lucy is going through. It’s even color coded and everything. Blue being cold, isolation, physical and emotional neglect from Thierry. Vs the Red of warm, attentiive, possessive and emotional manipulation that is Fidelia.

I don’t doubt that Fidelia cares for Lucy. But it obviously is really twisted if like only one day in Fidelia is already trying to run Lucy’s life how she thinks it should be. Honestly Seiji nailed it when he pointed out the outfit change was more for Fidelia’s taste instead of Lucys’s.

And this chapter is nothing more than family secrets revealed to Sylas isn’t it? Like, how far do you have to break the boy he’s already hurt enough. His dad literally hating his eldest and lawful child, hates his mother, 100% willing to have an affair and have more children and being told flat to his face he is nothing but a tool. It hurt to learn he was there just as a ploy for Fidelia to keep Lucy to herself, but I loved how he still cared for his half siblings. He wasn’t angry at Emilia’s existence, but how Fidelia had seemed to cast her to the wolves that is their father. He wanted to learn more about Lucy as a person, as his sibling, and was happy that it sounded like they wanted to connect too. But of course he couldn’t because Fidelia made sure to try and nuke that chance before it could bloom. Leaving them both just as lonely as ever.

Ugh it sucks so much because Lucy left from one form of isolation abuse to another!

And a minor note, Peony is probably another bastard child of Fidelia and Dubois. Her and Emilia are probably twins than Dubois didn’t want to take care of both of them so he found a way to ditch one into the streets. I mean, it’s the fucking nose people! The timeline merges and fit to one complicated mess that wouldn’t have happened if two people didn’t decide to bone down.

God I want to know what January will think of this, hearing that the anomaly they were supposed to hunt down is now Fidelia’s pet favorite. Actually, now that Lucy is here, will Fidelia even care for January as much? Or will she still try since this is her way of manipulating the council.

Rin is apparently living her best life as a wolf monster of not giving a fuck and about to do some dirty backdoor dealings with Fidelia. That is Not going to bode well.

And finally, Seiji. Wow did that Bastard Man manage to change my perception of him. You bastard, how dare you make me like you. Fucking Twerp. But god, he is trying to get it through to Sylas that he should go after someone who Likes Him. Which, puts Sylas first as part of his feelings, but also can be flipped on to himself because if Sylas is straight, then Seiji should go after someone who likes him. And that hurts.

And then when he talked to Lucy, like first time ever talked to Lucy, it was cute. It was dramatic. It felt like a normal conversation where they aren’t putting on airs with each other and just trying to figure shit out. And it was, really cute. He has this fucking “devil-may-care” rogue persona that he defaults to when he feels cornered, hence the kiss to piss people off. But, having that be your first form of romantic interest after being in isolation for 5 years, I can see why Lucy may be smitten.

Of Course....it sucks that Seiji only managed to put 2 and 2 together on Lucy and Cylas AFTER he dipped. But he got there eventually. The disaster bastard man.

I think I have a thing where I can only approve of ships if I see some in-canon connection/plausibility first. And it wasn’t a pair I would see dating. But I honestly hope there could be some feelings that sprout between the two. Some emotional development that doesn’t center around emotional abuse since Seiji knows what’s up with Fidelia and calls her out on that.

And since this post couldn’t possibly get any longer: underneath are my theories and just what is up with Morgan and Thierry.

This is what happens when I get caught up on comics, I have IDEAS.

Let’s start off somewhere simple here: Timeline.

Fidelia and Dubois have affair. Multiple times. And it resulted in Morgan. Something Something happened and they pushed Morgan into hiding so it has no connection to them. I’m also thinking that because of how Morgan has no connection to them, since Fidelia lost touch with her kid, she made sure/blackmail the Dubois to raise their next kid as his own to make sure they are taken care of. Hence Emilia’s life.

Anyway Morgan was sick, went to the care of Joe Rothart and Dr. Malliet, where a sudden Husk attack killed Morgan and Dr. Malliet 5 years ago. Where Thierry took them to be raised as “Lucien” under his care.

Thierry “gave up everything” for the kid, meaning he thought it was in his best interest to take Morgan.

The reason Joe has a soft spot for Husks is probably because Dr. Malliet was his significant other/partner. Tobi asked if they “broke up” so it implies they were dating. See here I was thinking that Morgan was like, Joe’s brother or something, way older at the very least. But Morgan was the sickly kid, the patient, and Malliet was the other Husk Expert trying to help.

Basically what I’m saying is that Thierry and Joe were lovers. Thierry Rothart is really Dr. Thierry Malliet. While trying to help Morgan, he used his own magic to maybe siphoned the illness away or something and ended up turning into a Husk himself. So when he squirreled away with Morgan (Lucy) he took the last name of Rothart as a momento of their past relationship/ what could have been and as a way of hiding himself.

Also, Ivy isn’t his cat.

We fucking saw what happened with Captain Yiff of the Wolf Brigard. She turned into wolf mode like Jade did. However!!! Thierry became the bird man of Alcatraz and sprouted feathers. AND! Husks are people who literally reabsorb their magic familiars back into themselves. Meaning that Thierry can’t have absorbed his Peacock Bird familiar AND have Ivy the CAT be his active familiar.

The only way I can think this was any way possible to have a “have your cake and eat it too” moment is because of Su. Su never had magic to begin with, and how she’s a Goat Husk, implying if she did have access to magic her familiar would be a goat. The same could have happened to Lucy.

It was stated that for a Husk the magic comes from the eyes, and eyes are the windows of the soul. Trying to heal Morgan resulted in draining the magic from their eye and that magic latched itself into Thierry, turning him into a peacock man.

....why he wants to have his house be a shrine of peacocks of what he did instead of his own fucking cat, I will never know.

Regardless, I’m thinking that after Thierry did manage to cure Morgan, since he took their eye (again, part of the soul) it probably resulted in memory loss too. I’m thinking that the eyepatch is just covering a hole or dark powers because if Lucy has like one-eye in husk mode that would be really stupid.

It also better explains Ivy helping out Thierry’s Husk mode. Familiars are conduits of magic that allows the Mages/Magicians to safely use their magic without overloading. That’s why when the magic is reabsorbed into the person the magic is out of control and fluctuates on emotion. The animals are safeguards. So Ivy, as Thierry’s familiar, is able to drain away the magic in his emotional states. But that also backfires because draining away magic that wasn’t necessarily his means it was also draining away his memory, hence his behavior issues with Lucy.

Which can also explain Lucy’s own “magic draining powers” is because they is out of balance. They aren’t like  non-magic people where they aren’t able to access their magic. They aren’t like regular magicians where an animal familiar is there to help manage magic. And they aren’t like Husks where all the magic is fully absorbed into their body. Because they don’t have access to their original magic source (Thanks Thierry) their body is trying to balance itself out by siphoning the magic of others. Fill in the gap as it were. Which only works if they are in close physical contact with a magic source. But because it isn’t their original magic, it doesn’t last long. That’s why even though Ana was drained completely of magic, Lucy is unable to use it anymore, or at the very least can’t access it as easily.

The only other thing I could think of is how the hell does Fidelia connect with Thierry. Because Ivy was scared shitless of her or the thought of her. She probably threatened them both as Dr. Malliet to do “whatever it takes” to cure Morgan, and we all know how possessive she is with her children.

Long story short, Dr. Thierry Malliet did some experimental treatment which resulted in his husk form and Morgan’s cure/memory loss/magic issues. To protect themselves from being hunted, he fake their deaths and hid away as a recluse and raising Morgan as Lucy so the city’s magic leaders won’t hunt them down.

[houseofhurricane]

ACOTAR Fic: Bloom & Bone (15/32) | Elain x Tamlin, Lucien x Vassa

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

A/N: Elain is really feeling herself in this chapter, even when she starts training and scheming in earnest. You can find all previous chapters here, or read Bloom & Bone on AO3. If you'd like to get an early peek at chapter 11 and all future chapters, follow me on Instagram at @house.of.hurricane. Thank you for reading! ❤️

“You should call a meeting of the High Lords,” Elain says, for the third time in as many days, her wooden practice sword aimed at Tamlin’s neck.

He blocks her easily, his eyes remote, as bleak as she’s ever seen them.

“You should tell your family that you’re here,” he says after disarming her, the sword falling to the floor with a thud.

“Feyre knows I’m in this world.” Within hours of returning to Prythian, she’d heard her sister’s voice in her mind, answered only I’m safe, then went silent, her shields as thick as she could make them. She hadn’t mentioned anything to Tamlin. “She sounded relieved I was alive.”

“Then you have a perfect time to tell her you weren’t conspiring against the Night Court.”

“Or I could tell her at the High Lords’ meeting.” She crosses her arms over her chest and flashes a grin at him.

“Or you could allow someone from your court to fetch you.”

“I doubt they’ll let me return,” she says, trying to sound more casual about this than she feels as she crouches to pick up her sword. In the mornings, she visits the passageways and tracks Koschei as best she can, and in the afternoons, Tamlin has agreed to help her train for a few hours, teaching her the basic fighting movements and, at her insistence today, the fundamentals of swordplay, though she’s realizing he was right when he said she wasn’t yet ready. Still, the idea of herself, pretty little Elain Archeron, hefting a sword, was too compelling for reason, and she wore Tamlin down, going against all the ingrained lessons on gaining a husband. She never imagined she’d be bound to someone for eternity without having to beguile him first.

In the evenings, she visits Melis, gossips a little with the servants before dinner, and then at night, Elain listens to Tamlin’s breathing and tries to sleep. He has gone so far as to find himself a cot, but when she appeared in his room the first night, he was too upset by the revelation of the Autumn Court to insist on her leaving. She’d rubbed her hands down his back until she felt his muscles relax, the strain in him ease, and she’d slept the whole night curled against him, her mind alight with plans and possibilities, the kind of stratagems she wishes Vassa or Lucien could unpick. She did not allow herself to think about the way her heart galloped at Tamlin’s proximity, how every time he’d moved in his sleep, she’d curled closer toward him, how when she’d finally fallen asleep, she’d woken up practically on top of him, her cheek on his chest, his arm around her shoulders.

In other worlds, the situation is simple between them: they are simply two people drawn to each other by destiny or chance. But as soon as they returned to Prythian, the weight of the mating bond and Feyre’s experience, Tamlin’s history and all the court politics pull them apart, insist on being delved into and resolved, too important to ignore.

Now, for example, she does not reach for Tamlin, though ever fiber of her self is attuned to his movements. Instead, she rises, sword in hand, points it at him as if she is full of a bravado she’s never possessed.

“If I go to the Night Court, will you call a meeting of the High Lords?”

“You cannot imagine what it would be to announce my failure for all of them to hear. When they already think the worst of me.”

Though she feels his power rise in the room like a sudden thunderstorm, she keeps her sword aimed at his heart.

“I know exactly what it is to pretend you are nothing until everyone in the world believes it, too. If you let Beron seize the human lands, your territory will be next. And then what will you say to the High Lords?”

“That I never wanted to rule this court in the first place.” His palms are raised toward her. Even Elain, with her conspicuous lack of training, knows that he’s conceding defeat. “Beron has marched ten thousand men through my territory in the last three days. They’ve barely bothered to conceal themselves.”

“Perhaps he wants to provoke you.”

“He wants me to see how weak I’ve become.”

“Then go to the High Lords and raise an army. Lucien will help you. I will go to him and explain.”

Tamlin’s fists are clenched, his rage thick in the room. At this point, Elain has always done what her schoolmasters and governess and family required: spoken a few pleasant words to dissolve every hint of tension.

But now Elain can pull herself out of this world. The furious male is her mate. And it would be easier if he would rage at her, show her the High Lord of the Spring Court who watched her sister fall apart and only made her hurt worse. Let him show her that he hasn’t changed, so she can break the mating bond without regret.

So she tells him, forcing her voice level: “This defeat will be much more painful than a single meeting. You know the Night Court will ally with you.”

“I will not go on my knees before Rhysand.”

“You have wasted years on your self-pity and your people are endangered for it. The human realms of Prythian are in danger. Do you think Beron will show them mercy?” She has not mentioned the humans until now. She does not want to watch him scoff.

His eyes blaze like green fire, a knot in his jaw forming, and Elain can tell that he is barely holding himself under control. Still, she does not look away. She sets her chin against all the comforting words that unfurl inside her, all the things she would say to him if they were people in another world.

“Go to the Night Court,” he grinds out.

“Only if you will call a meeting of the High Lords.”

“And if I will not?”

She takes a step closer, steels herself against the heat that rises in her at his proximity, all the things she wants to do with her hands.

“Then I will stay here and argue with you until you see reason.”

He barks out a laugh, surprise in his eyes, and she starts making her plan.

&

&

&

Elain goes to Lucien first, to Helion’s private library. It’s the only part of the Day Court she recognizes, and though the room is empty when she arrives, Lucien and Helion enter within minutes, Lucien looking a little sheepish at the attire of the Day Court, loose pants cuffed at his ankles and a vest that reveals most of his chest and arms, the corded muscles and bronze skin.

“I was worried about you,” Lucien says, just as she is forming her own remark about how well this fashion suits him. He squeezes her hand tight in hers.

“And I said that you were an Archeron sister, who will bring this world to its knees with no help from any of us.” Helion flashes a smile and Elain offers her cheek to be kissed in greeting, grinning in spite of herself.

Though she wanted to tell them everything, Tamlin had asked her to speak only of what she’s learned about Koschei and the other worlds, the meeting of the High Lords, and request that Lucien visit the Spring Court.

She starts with what she’s learned about the passageways, how she’s learned to navigate by her desire. In addition to the world where Koschei originated, she’s found worlds he’s visited. Though she has not opened the doors to those worlds, she can tell from the carvings on their doors that they are quite unlike each other, that in that ancient time when Koschei punched his way through various universes, he did not seem to have access to these passageways.

“He could have been running from something. He might have encountered your passageways and lacked confidence that a nearby world would be a safe haven,” Helion muses, lifting his eyes from his notes.

“The creature we found in the world of his origin did seem much stronger,” Elain says, catches a flash in Lucien’s russet eye at the word we. It’s all she can do to keep from sticking her tongue out at him, though of course she’s here on official business. “Have you made progress on the tether?”

“You went into this world with someone, did you not?” Helion asks.

“There is another bond between us.” Elain does not quite meet his eyes. She’s not sure what he knows. “He was able to use it to follow me into the passageway the first time I went, without touching me. He wasn’t fully in his body but I could recognize certain attributes.”

“All while you were holding the bone, wasn’t it?” Lucien asks, smirking.

Helion tries to turn his laughter into a cough, and Elain rolls her eyes at both of them.

“You were going to tell me about your progress with the tethering spell?”

“And you were working very hard to conceal the identity of your mate from us,” Helion says, winking at her. “Though I’ll admit I’m glad you’ve spared us the rhapsodies the rest of your court loves to provide on the glories of the mating bond. At any rate, we’ve made progress on the tethering spell.”

“He’s still afraid to winnow with it,” Lucien says.

“I’d like to be sure of the magic before I fling myself into some abyss,” Helion shoots back, turning back to Elain. “And since Lucien is so sure of this spell, he’s free to try it with you any time you’d like.”

She sees the window of opportunity, grasps it like a flower in need of transplanting.

“Then will you come to the Spring Court tomorrow, Lucien, so we can try?”

Helion’s eyebrows raise for just a second. By the time Lucien agrees to visit in the morning, the High Lord’s face is the picture of courtly neutrality. Elain expected she would feel ashamed of this revelation but instead she feels a rush of power inside herself that comes from the strength of her observations, her certainty in the next move. Knowing he’s wondering whether she and the High Lord of Spring are mates, she says:

“Helion, as it happens I come with a message for you as well. Tamlin has called for a meeting of the High Lords.”

“How quickly?”

“Soon,” she says, trying to conceal her relief. Tamlin had been sure Helion would ask about the topic of the meeting, had not wanted her to provide a true answer. Now she’s sure he thinks it’s regarding the mating bond, romantic drama writ large as Prythian itself. “He prefers the meeting take place within the week.”

“The Day Court will be happy to host, of course.”

“Every High Lord will make the same offer,” Lucien says, shaking his head, his voice so much that of an exasperated child that Elain’s heart clenches in her chest. “Will you tell Elain which other sites you find acceptable?”

“The Summer Court. Dawn, if we must, though Thesan will begin to think that we rely on him for meetings of importance. Winter is also a possibility, though I have no idea how anyone is to survive that kind of cold. And the Night Court, but naturally Tamlin would object.”

She nods, trying to maintain the serenity of her features. He’s named every one of the neutral courts. Tamlin had been hoping for the Day Court, given Helion’s presumed allegiance to Lucien, though Elain worries about their ties to the Night Court. Then again, every court seems more tightly bound to Rhys and Feyre than to Tamlin, despite these last-minute machinations she’s making now, sitting in Helion’s library and offering him the barest slivers of intrigue.

“I’ll make sure your preferences are known,” she says, rising from her chair. “You should receive a formal invitation tomorrow. Would it be all right if I took a few moments to speak to Lucien alone?”

Helion exits with a graceful half-bow, and as soon as the door closes behind him, Lucien immediately quirks an eyebrow.

“You know he’s listening at the door,” he tells her. She can tell he’s trying to keep his face impassive, as if Helion can also survey him from any angle.

“I’m sure there’s a spell to keep him from having to press his ear to the wood. Cauldron forfend he strain himself” she shoots back, grins at his answering laugh. “I am planning to go to the Night Court next and I wanted to know if you’d spoken to anyone there.”

“Rhysand has definitely made his displeasure known, but the alliance with Helion is too important to risk over me. I don’t think I’ll be asked to provide a report anytime soon. But they were worried about you,” he adds, reading the shift in her expression, “your sisters especially. They thought you’d followed me here.”

“They didn’t think I’d use my own powers.”

“Their confidence in you is going to be limited, especially once they scent Tamlin on you.”

She blushes in spite of the fact that she’d anticipated this question, had taken her bath in the evening, before she’d curled up in Tamlin’s sheets, spent the night listening for the sound of his breath.

“I thought they’d be less likely to kill me on sight if they thought it would cause war between the courts.”

“You’ve picked a poor ally. Likely they’ll think he’s bewitched you.”

“Sometimes that feels accurate,” she says, the feeling of his lips on hers flashing her mind, as it has a thousand times since she’d kissed him in the passageway, fallen asleep in his arms. When she hadn’t thought about their histories or politics, just the barely contained wildness of him, the way he would allow her an extra few minutes to gain the knowledge she needed even if it killed him, that fact that he never seemed to think Vassa could be a tactical sacrifice. There are other moments, too: when he’d told her she could break the mating bond without ever telling her that it might harm him, when he’d followed her into the passageways and other worlds without a question, as if she were not little Elain Archeron, pleasant ballroom ornament, but the force that Vassa had helped her begin to imagine she could be. Over and over she’s wished for no mating bond, for another history, in which these moments could be cherished proof that she was chosen from the beginning, beloved by someone who saw her clearly and cherished that view. Over and over, Elain steels herself, retells Feyre’s stories as incantations, watches for any alarming sign from Tamlin, a reason to pull on the fabric of this world and disappear somewhere safer.

“I can tell you’re mostly careful, but--”

She holds up her hand to Lucien, the way she might to a brother, to one of her sisters if their circumstances had been less dire or if they themselves had been different, more inclined to banter or affectionate exasperation. “I’m trying, Lucien. But there are only so many places I can go in this world.”

“You could have come here.”

“I thought I would endanger you.”

“Then you could have taken me with you.” He’s trying to be arch, but Elain hears the plaintive note in his voice, the one he can’t quite smother. In all the stories she’s heard, all the tableaux she’s witnessed, it’s always Lucien who is left behind.

“Tomorrow, I’ll take you to a dozen different worlds before lunch. Tamlin’s only seen two.”

“I’m glad you’ve figured out how to take me to peaceful worlds, then. I’m not as handy with a sword as your mate.”

She rolls her eyes at him, the term grating in her ears, turning each sweet tentative moment with Tamlin into a proclamation of fate. Especially when she still has yet to face Feyre.

“He needs help with this meeting, Lucien,” she says, forcing herself to remain in the present moment, the task at hand. “Will you talk to him tomorrow?”

“Are either of you going to tell me what this meeting is about? I noticed you chose a very opportune moment to mention it to Helion.”

“Isn’t he listening at the door? If Tamlin doesn’t tell you tomorrow, I will.”

He gives her an appraising glance. “Is it being in all these strange new worlds that’s made you so defiant?”

“He can’t harm me, according to all the stories about mates.”

“There are destructions that don’t hurt one bit, Elain,” he says, and for just a second, Lucien’s russet eye looks haunted. She decides to change the subject, already knowing that he won’t tell her what experience he’s remembering.

“Tell me what to say at the Night Court.”

“Tell them the truth. Remind them that your power is your own. Appeal to Feyre, not Rhysand. She knew you before you were brought to the Night Court.”

“That was my plan,” she says, her shoulders relaxing with relief, that her own ideas are not so far off from this schemer’s.

“I noticed you flinch once, when Rhys called you his family.” Lucien’s voice is too careful, and maybe it is stupid to trust him, but this secret is too old to cause anyone much harm.

“Before -- with Azriel, he was the one who stopped it. Because of you, I think, and the politics involved. And Azriel just followed those orders. I’m family to him only when it suits.” There’s a darkness in him, she wants to say, Feyre believes he’s good but I’m not sure. She tries not to act on her observations unless she’s certain, and Elain has always been taught to trust in the men around her for her own good. So she swallows the words.

“That sounds like my family on a good day,” Lucien says, gentle, watching her like he knows there’s more that she’s not saying. “And Rhysand has been High Lord for centuries. Perhaps it’s easy to forget, what a family is without politicking.”

“You didn’t. You learned better.”

“I told the world you were my mate to stave off a war.”

She lets the quiet build for a moment, breathes in the old frustration, that he would entrap her as he did, turn her life into a ruin. But when she exhales, looks into those unmatched eyes that see so much, Elain knows that he saved her from this hard truth until she could bear it on her shoulders.

“I saw how you looked when everyone found out about Tamlin. You wanted to save us. Feyre, even me. And you’d never even met me.”

He reaches across the table and squeezes her hands between his fingers, old ink smearing onto her palm.

“If you talk to your old Inner Circle just like that, Elain, they’re going to accept you back with open arms.”

This isn’t her plan, exactly, but Elain just grins back at him, savors the moment.

&

&

&

In the Night Court, she is not blasted to bits when she appears. Instead, Nuala and Cerridwen lead Elain into the formal meeting of the Night Court, where Feyre and Rhys sit across the room. They’re not enthroned, exactly, on their velvet chairs, but they are regal, powerful, certain they hold her life in the balance.

But as soon as Elain sees the dark circles under Feyre’s eyes, she regrets disappearing, the three days she spent in this world with hardly a word. Then Rhysand begins to speak.

“I generally prefer if the members of this court are aligned in their aims,” he says, in that silky, dangerous voice, and she wants to snap at him to stop treating her like the enemy, before she realizes that she may, in point of fact, actually be the enemy to this court, at least in their eyes. His fingers are twined with Feyre’s, and her sister does not look alarmed at his tone. Instead, she studies Elain so intently that Elain checks and rechecks her mental shields, makes sure the shining gates are walled and barricaded, impossible to breach.

“I have been trying to save Vassa in the best way I know how.”

“We have offered you every resource, and you go sneaking off with Lucien. Telling other courts about your powers.”

Elain feels her eyes widening, the apology forming inside her. Because she can see the error in her actions, viewed from his perspective. If she’d pushed, he would have invited Helion to the Night Court, opened the library to the High Lord of the Day Court if the priestesses granted permission. But all of this would have taken time, involved deliberations and politicking and jockeying for power that are forgotten whenever she thinks of Vassa’s screams, the haunted look in Lucien’s eyes.

“I did not think that my powers were the property of the Night Court,” she says, balling her fingers into fists, her defiance rising. “Helion was the one who trained me. He listened to me and adapted his suggestions. With Amren, I was always pretending.”

The words detonate inside her mind: I was always pretending.

The truth of them, expanding far beyond this room. She healed in this court, and she will always be grateful for that time she was given, the care and attention, the gardens and soft words, but, like everywhere else Elain had ever been before, she was never expected to be anything more than lovely.

“Elain,” Feyre says, her voice gentle and her eyes still searching, and Elain braces herself, “you speak of Helion but you arrive with Tamlin’s scent on you.”

This had been her plan all along, but guilt thuds in her chest at the look in Feyre’s eyes, the confusion and concern. Her own hurt is hidden, because Feyre has always cared for her sisters as if she bore them herself.

“In that moment of panic, I reached out with my magic to a place where I would be safe,” Elain says. “I knew he couldn’t harm me.”

Feyre’s fingers are white against the arms of her chair, and Elain realizes she’s misspoken.

“I just meant,” she says, before she can be interrupted, “that I didn’t know what would happen here, and I thought the chances were low that Tamlin would run me through with a sword.”

“Even with everything I’ve told you? Everything he’s been?” She’s rarely heard this harsh tone in Feyre’s voice, even when they had nothing, could feel their bones rising up through their skin. What Elain really wants in this moment is to sweep her sister into a hug, beg forgiveness for her disappearance, and promise she will retire to her old room and only come out for meals until the world is saved. But she no longer believes the best thing is to stand by and let herself be saved. So instead she steels herself, continues with the words she’d planned out in the night, laid out like a star in the middle of Tamlin’s bed.

“I don’t want to hurt you. And I don’t know if he’s changed. I don’t know if I will reject the mating bond between us.” Elain draws a breath deep in her lungs. “But I do know that he saved your life and Rhys’s, even as your enemy. I think there is hope for him, still. And I think he’s trying.”

“How do you know that?” Rhys asks, pulling Feyre’s hand to rest on his thigh.

“He canceled the Tithe. He goes to the villages of the Spring Court to speak with his citizens now, every day. And when we were in danger, he trusted me to save us, even when he could have been killed.”

“When were you in such danger?” Her sister’s eyes are wide and concerned, Tamlin already forgotten.

“I went to another world.”

“That’s why we couldn’t find you.”

“I found the place Koschei came from.” She had debated offering this information but she wants to believe that they will help her.

“How are you so certain?” Rhys asks.

“Why would I lie?”

“It seems to have become a habit with you,” he says, and she feels his power rumble in the room, a reminder that he isn’t just a person who calls her family.

“My power belongs to me,” she says, a claiming on her own self as much as a warning to them, even as she knows that her power was never meant for attacking, only knowing, seeing, that she could only harm them as much as they might be hurt by her disappearance.

Feyre raises a hand and the room stills, Rhys shooting his gaze her way. But the High Lady only looks at Elain.

“Your power is not our weapon. But I wonder what you want to accomplish with it, alone and wandering off wherever you like.”

“What I want is a world at peace and Vassa free.”

“I spoke with her, when you were gone,” Feyre says, and once again her voice is too gentle. “She says that Koschei is treating her too kindly.”

Elain can feel the blood draining out of her face. There are so many ways a woman can become an object, and most of them are not nearly as pleasant-seeming as her own experience, ballrooms and gowns and men who promised her a gilded future. Vassa is so strong, but she’s still a human, and Koschei’s magic is a force unto itself.

But she has found Koschei’s world, is beginning to understand the feel of his magic. The tether will be ready soon, and then Lucien and Helion will be able to break down the spell on Vassa, set her free. She will go to that lake herself, alone, if it will save her friend.

“I can guess what you are thinking,” Feyre says, her voice moving from gentle to too gentle, ready to offer something unwelcome like a gift, “but you cannot go to Koschei. If he captures you...”

“I’ll disappear.”

“You cannot know what magic he has at his disposal,” Rhys says, silencing the room with his icy stare. “If you become his weapon, he’ll fling the door to every world wide open.”

“And so I should stay here until the war is over?”

“Can Tamlin protect you?”

Elain wants to tell him that she would be welcomed at other courts, not just Spring, but this would be a disaster, especially when the most delicate part of the conversation has presented itself amidst all this turmoil, the magic that throbs in the room.

“He is calling a meeting of the High Lords to discuss this, as quickly as it can be arranged. Will you hear what he has to say?”

There is a pause, in which Rhys looks at Feyre and Elain thinks look at me, wishes she’d asked her sister to speak in private, so that she could tell her about Tamlin gently, the two of them crying and bewildered together for a few hours until they were ready for the other topics. And a part of her, the monstrous part, wishes she’d spoken to Feyre because she knows her sister would be easier to convince alone.

“You insist on this?” her sister asks, not in the concerned tones she’s used since Elain arrived, but in her High Lady voice, steeled and elegant and unmoving. It’s a dismissal that Elain is sure she deserves.

But she thinks of Tamlin, agreeing to share the fact that Beron’s army has crossed through his court, is on its way into the human lands. They began to discuss what he’d say at dinner last night. It was the first time she’d ever heard him stammer, swallow his words mid-phrase.

“I insist,” she says, and then, into the silence: “You will receive a formal invitation tomorrow, but if you would tell me your preferred location, that would help the meeting come sooner.”

Rhys drawls his answer, as if he’s already bored. “Day, Summer, and Winter.”

Elain only nods, prepares to leave the Night Court, tells herself to be grateful that Feyre and Rhys listened, did not blast her to bits. Later, she will try to see things through their eyes, if only to predict what they’ll do at the meeting. She extends her hand, prepares to part the fabric of this world until it takes her back to the Spring Court.

When light blooms behind she eyes, she assumes it’s a shifting in her powers. But instead she is near a lake, and Koschei’s voice is in her ears, booming behind her.

“I will leave you this world, my darling,” he is saying as Elain turns toward the voice, too slowly because she does not want to believe what is happening. If Koschei captures you… When Feyre had said this, Elain had been so sure the fear was an overreaction, Feyre’s habitual incredulity about her capabilities.

But Koschei is not speaking to her. His eyes are on Vassa, who is seated on a throne next to him, dressed in a gown adorned with the feathers of the firebird. One of her hands is held tight by Koschei’s fingers, the other resting on a swollen belly. Her eyes are vacant, nothing like the blue fire that has always burned in them.

“Thank you,” Vassa says, in a voice that is absent, hardly recognizable.

Elain balls her hands, wants to scream run!, to grab her friend’s hand and pull her into a different world, a better world, anything but this destruction, but her legs are fixed, her hands still at her side.

For a second, she’s sure Koschei sees her, meets her eye, but the depthless gaze slides over her, towards the horizon. And in that moment of relief, Elain realizes that she’s seen these thrones before. That a version of herself has sat on them, in some gloomy ruined possibility of the Spring Court, the Crown on her head and Tamlin bound as Vassa seems to be.

I will leave you this world, Koschei said. As if the world were a trifling thing. As if he had access to others.

It is foolish to close her eyes, make herself weak, but she cannot bear this sight, these revelations. She makes no sound but feels the tears on her cheeks, soaking the bodice of her dress as they fall, rage and fear and regret and sadness all knotted together.

Then she is falling, the ground hard beneath her. She doesn’t remember completing the initial tear that would allow her to go to the Spring Court, so she supposes these are the marble tiles of the river estate in the Night Court, that Feyre and Rhys have watched her in the throes of her vision, have allowed her to fall to the floor. She realizes that she does not want to see them, not when she’s this vulnerable, an old vague feeling crystallizing inside her with ferocity, the only fixed point in this whirling world, the sight of which is too great for her to bear.

When she feels hands on her, calloused fingertips, she flinches so hard that whoever she hits gives a little grunt of pain. Then she registers his voice, her own ability to move, the fragrance of the flowers she herself had planted, the lilac and gardenia and rose so heady and sweet that she hopes that it is real, no vision or fabrication.

“Where am I?” she asks, shielding her face, which is just as foolish as it was when she stood before Koschei, but her mind is still reeling, her vision itself overcome.

“The great hall of the Spring Court,” Tamlin says, his voice warm and concerned, his arm wending around her shoulders, holding her upright. “Are you all right?”

“I think… I hope I had a vision.” Every future has always felt the same to Elain, indistinguishable, as possible as anything that has happened in her past. Every future has been horrific, and still somehow this sight was the worst. The violation of her friend.

“What happened?”

“Ask me about your allies first. Ask me about Lucien.” She’s begging, near tears, and all the while the world spins around her, the world she knows and the world she hopes she never does, all the worlds which for now only she can access.

“You’re delirious. Are you in pain?” She feels his hand on her, gentle, looking for the source of hurt, and she wishes, just for a second, that he could wipe her mind of the vision.

“I saw Koschei with Vassa.”

“You didn’t--”

“I didn’t go to the lake. I had a vision. I hope I had a vision.” She presses the heels of her hands against her face, allows him to draw her toward him, the way they’d been in the passageways, her curled-up body against his chest, her head cradled by his shoulder. “What if we don’t win, Tamlin? What if we can’t rescue her?”

“We’ll try again until she’s free,” he tells her, and while the world settles into place, its furious whirling finally slowing, Elain tries to concentrate on the sound of his heartbeat, to believe him.

[elle-imagines]

Hello!! May I request headcanons for Victor and Lucien from MLQC? If it’s okay, maybe some soft relationshippy HCs? Thank you so much, I hope you’re having a wonderful day 💫

Thank you, my day is wonderful and I hope yours is, too! It’s been such a long time since I’ve played this game, so I may be a bit rusty! I definitely downloaded it and will replay it again to get a refresher :) Let’s say good-bye to all of my savings again!

Victor

He truly loves you and thinks about you often. He began to become aware of his love for you when he keeps questioning if he’s good enough for you. Victor is aware of his success and the attention it gets. As CEO, he became acclimated to assessing others to his standards, not the other way around. Victor is typically critical and aims to achieve, yet now he feels the need to become better for you.

Victor will always push you to your limits because he believes in you. He doesn’t waste time if he doesn’t see potential. Victor investing time to make sure you meet deadlines, looking over your papers, and making you wake up early are the greatest compliments he can give you. Even though you may hate it at times, he is communicating that he believes in you and will support you to the best of his power. When you forget how strong you are, he will remind you and try to help you see yourself how he sees you. 

Gives very good advice to you when you need it. Victor knows when to back off and let you make decisions for yourself, but he will be there to catch you when you fall. 

Sometimes stops time just to look at you and take a moment to feel the rush of ardor he has for you. 

He won’t hesitate to speak about you when the time is right, and will boast your accomplishments to put a good word in for you. He wants to see you succeed and knows you will work hard enough to handle anything that comes your way. Other than talking highly of you, he prefers to keep you a mystery to others due to his protective nature. He is not one to gossip about his loved ones anyway, so to him the less people know about you when it’s not necessary, the better.

He is a lot more affectionate than he lets on. In the early hours of the morning you will wake up in his embrace that takes half an hour to snake out of. Out of nowhere, he will ruffle your hair when he’s proud of you. He won’t hesitate to rub flour from your face with his thumb. His hands will envelope yours as he teaches you how to cut vegetables with a chiffonade technique. Touch is one of the ways he says he is there for you, that he’s proud of you, and that he loves you.

It’s common for you both to indulge in late-night conversations about anything. Victor is at his most calm and vulnerable at home from a long day of work and can drop the steely facade at the sound of your voice. A glass of wine is usually in his hand, so cherish that rough voice and those soft laughs while he’s tipsy. This pasttime is something you both did before you were together, and continued to do because it grants the easiness of talking about vulnerable topics without having to face each other. Hearing your voice after a long day helps him more than you know. 

Of course he has taken you on many trips to private wineries, deluxe suites, and places on your bucket list. However, nothing beats a getaway to Souvenir. Victor feels like he can be himself. He is anonymous while in the kitchen, able to focus on his passion for cooking with your presence there with him. Most times he will teach you a new recipe or put you to work in the kitchen (of course). Don’t be fooled, he enjoys your company and allowing you back there with him shows that he is comfortable with you knowing his more private and true persona.

“Pass me the paring knife - blade down so you won’t kill me.”

“Here, taste this for me.”

“If you answer my question, I just might relieve your cleaning duties.”

“Here, let me do it before it gets worse.”

Lets you take the reins sometimes when it comes to making decisions, big or small. There are times when he asks for your advice on things such as menu changes for Souvenir or details on a choice he has to make as an executive. He values your opinions and is with you because he also thinks you are sensible and intelligent (sometimes). 

You both regularly debate about everything, and he likes that you can keep him on his toes. What sauce should go on a medium-rare steak, economic prosperity in different countries, is Victor an evil capitalist CEO or evil chef connoisseur, you name it. 

A lot funnier than he seems. His dry humor and witty remarks catch you off guard at times. Victor is very observant of you and makes fun of your behaviors, especially if he notices you checking him out or blushing profusely over something he said. 

As much as he hates to admit it, he does spoil you. If he sees you eyeing a certain dress, the next day it’s sent to your home. If he hears your stomach growling, he’s in the kitchen already while chiding you for not eating yet. Victor always takes care of you and makes sure your needs are met, even if he’s nonchalant about it. 

“How could you have forgotten to eat today? Stay put, I’m on my way.”

“Don’t thank me; it’s nothing.”

“Make sure you take care of yourself, alright?”

“I can’t leave you by yourself, can I?”

He does this thing where he speaks with his regular sharp tone then turns to you and sounds like honey. Goldman has observed it many times and is never ceased to be amazed by it.

Lucien

The two of you make a habit of stopping at each other’s workplaces with lunch or snacks. Between Lucien’s class periods, you will bring him his favorite order of coffee and something to quick to eat. If he can’t make it to drop off food to you, he will definitely call your favorite restaurant to deliver your favorite order. Even if you get the amount of sugar in his coffee wrong, he is especially detailed when it comes to knowing your orders. What condiments you use, pickles or no pickles, your allergies, he makes note of it all and gets it right every time.

You both find tranquility in reading next to each other after a long day of work. Stints to corner bookstores with worn books and cats sleeping on the shelves is a favorite pasttime. Sometimes, he’d ask for you to read to him while he’s cooking or taking a moment after work. He enjoys hearing the serious drop in your voice at an action scene, or the laughter you try to subdue when you read something particularly funny. At night before bed, he will take the reins and read anything you like if you have trouble sleeping. He swears his reading voice is terrible, but will stick through just to hear you shower him in compliments about your love for his voice.

In the most mundane moments you will catch him staring at you. Lucien, even if he may not look like it, is always cataloguing, learning, and observing. The sun’s warmth on your hair brings out the lighter hues on each strand. You have a habit of running a nail over your eyelid when you’re nervous. You have a callous on your ring finger because you hold a pencil strangely. He is always taking note of every aspect of your person, from your small ticks to a glimpse of your morals. Lucien also does not shy away from eye contact. If you meet his eyes he will not have the propriety to look away, and he enjoys the nervous shift you make under his gaze.

“What, Lucien? Is there something on my face?” “If I said no, could I look at you longer?”

“I’m just looking at you, Y/N.” 

“You look beautiful.” 

“A boyfriend can look at his other half, right?” 

He has a notebook that he writes detailed observations, research ideas, and quick sketches of architecture, local fauna, and neighborhood cats. Lucien used to indulge in drawing as a kid so he maintained the skill a bit as an adult. After a while, he will let you look through it or show you a few pages. At times, he makes quick sketches of you when he can. Leaning against a tree, sleeping through your alarm in the morning, catching fireflies at night, anything. He seeks to preserve these moments with you, wanting to immortalize the brevity of your laughter or the way you look at him sometimes.

You learned how to read his researcher’s scrawl after a while. His regular handwriting is quite nice-looking and neat, but when it came to his notes and marginalia, you quickly learned that doctors and scientists have the same handwriting when it came to their work.

You both have a signal that means it’s time to leave when you’re caught in a large crowd, a party, or otherwise less-than-ideal situation for Lucien’s sanity. Lucien prefers to plan and avoid situations like these altogether, therefore most of your outings are at botanical gardens, art galleries, libraries, or aquariums. Speaking events are the only place he’d suggest with a high number of people, only because there isn’t any interaction with them.

Lucien shows his affection differently than most boyfriends. He isn’t keen on public affection and likes have a wide berth of space, though he likes having you in it. He is very subtle and can sneak in a moment of affection when he wants to. When walking with each other, he won’t hesitate to offer his arm, and while taking in art pieces at a gallery he may grasp your hips lightly while moving by. His presence is not flashy, but it’s always there and ensures you feel loved and safe.

Lucien does little things like make you tea when you’re on the way home, turn on a lamp when you’re working late, and give you a warm towel when you’re coming out of the shower. He tries to make your life a bit easier by helping you remember your appointments, circumventing any problems you may run into whether it’s a rude coworker or your chronic habit of leaving your phone at home. Anything that he could help you with, he is there for. He even has a knack for helping you with things you didn’t even know you needed help with.

Every point of your relationship, from friendship to romance, he asked questions about you. Lucien never gets tired of getting to know you.

“When did you start liking oolong tea?”

 “Can I pick your mind for a moment?” 

“How long have you been doing that for?” 

“I’d like you to read this and tell me what you think.” 

The King of Popping Up on You. Before you two were together, Lucien cherished his privacy and preferred to be alone. One of the ways he figured he was falling for you was when he sought your company in his free time. He rarely initiates contact with anyone, but he would text you first out of the blue or give a call to hear your thoughts on something important to him. At your workplace or school, he will pop in to check in on you. Lucien feels this urge to see you naturally in your own environment, watching you focused on a task or talking with others. It’s a way for him to get to know you and observe how you act. When he has free time, he thinks of where he could take you rather than reading on his own. You became a part of him, for better or worse, so Lucien wants to continue forward with you by his side.