#(since it’s the worst kept secret in the world and the royals know about keeping 💍 secret until official announcements lol)

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

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[phangirlof]

Is it Over Now?

Pairing: Willhelm x Simon

Word Count: 7451

Summary: Picks up Two years after season1 of Young Royals. Simon decides it’s best to break things off and move on despite that being the last thing either him or Willhelm want to do.

Two years. Simon tried to hold back tears as his thoughts kept racing to places he couldn't get them away from. For the last two years he’d been Willhelm’s dirty little secret. His hidden trophy. The toy he kept selfishly from the rest of the kids. At first it was much easier to push these thoughts to the side but now? After countless secret sleepovers and meet ups. Short lived glances in the hallways or across the lunch table. He was so tired of feeling guilty and ashamed of himself, as if he was doing something wrong. Like some part of who he was was dirty. 

He loved that boy with everything in him. From his heart to his soul and everything else in between. No one he’d ever met had even come close to making him feel the way Wilhelm did, but at the same time no one had quite broken his spirit as much as he did either. 

“If you loved me I wouldn’t feel like this Wille. If you loved me like you say you do then I wouldn’t have to lie about our relationship to the whole world. I want someone to love me unconditionally and wholeheartedly and not worry about the consequences. They love me and they would stop at nothing or no one to love me. And I know that you can’t do that.” 

“But I do. I really really do Simon. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

“It’s okay, I know it’s not your fault.” 

The look in Willhelm’s eyes was slowly ripping Simon’s heart to shreds. All he wanted was to stay strong and get through this conversation. Move on and finally close the door on this chapter of his life. He was tired of hurting but hurting Wilhelm was truly the last thing he wanted to do. 

“Please Si, don’t do this. Give me just a little more time and I’ll make everything right. I promise.” The tears continued to fall and Wilhelm didn’t care to wipe them away. 

“I love you. I always will but for my own sanity I just can’t do this anymore.”

Simon gathered his belongings and started to make his way home, leaving Wilhelm behind. What had started out as a nice day alone, the two boys laying around on a blanket hidden away at a park nearby Simon’s house turned into the one thing Simon never anticipated. Their breakup. The further away he walked, the more tears of his own cascaded along his cheeks. Although he wanted nothing more than to turn around and run back into Wilhelm’s arms, he knew this was for the best, despite how shitty and broken he felt. 

In the distance he could hear Willhelm calling his name. Simon didn’t know what else could be said but he turned around anyway. 

“I will do whatever it takes to be with you.” Simon didn’t know how to respond so he just gave the other boy a weak smile and carried on the way he came. 

It’d been months since he last talked to Willhelm. Some days were easier than others. Some days he was really busy with classes, studying extra hard especially with graduation closer than ever, and the rowing team. Now that August was gone, Simon had been voted team captain and he had more responsibility than ever. But it was days like this that got to him the worst. Days where he was all caught up on homework and all of his friends were too busy to hangout. Days where he had nothing to keep his thoughts occupied. 

It would start with small memories like their first kiss or when they first met. The way he caught Willhelm’s attention and held onto which always resulted in an adorable, pink blush spreading across Willhelm’s face and him sheepishly looking away. Then he would move on to thinking about their first sleepover at his house. They were so excited to spend so much alone time together, they accidentally stayed up all night talking. No matter how many good memories came to mind, everything always ended up going back to the sex scandal and how alone he felt when Willhelm denied all the rumors. 

A knock on Simon’s door gratefully interrupted his thoughts. He reached for his phone, turning the music down he had originally turned on to ease his thoughts. “Simon, it’s Sara. Open up!” Sara shouted after knocking once more. A small grin took over his face. “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t be so impatient.” He rolled out of bed to let her in. 

“Hello.” She said. Sara gave Simon a little wave as she entered the room and plopped down on his bed. “Hey Sara, what are you doing here? Not that I don’t enjoy your company.” Simon said, taking claim of the other side of the bed. “I thought you were going to a party with Felice tonight.”

“I am, but I wanted to see if you’d come too.” Despite the overwhelming urge to just stay in his room, Simon knew it was much better than being stuck thinking about things he couldn’t change. “Umm, yeah. I’d love to. What time does it start?” He asked. 

“I think about an hour ago.” She said with a quick shoulder shrug. Simon couldn’t help but laugh. “And you waited ‘til after the party started to see if I wanted to go?” 

“Yeah, I kinda forgot about the party so when Felice called I told her I was waiting on you to get ready. She’s waiting on us downstairs so I need you to hurry up.” Simon shook his head and continued to laugh. 

“Okay well get out so I can change and I’ll be down there soon.” Sara left without another word. Simon looked through piles of clothes trying to decide what to wear. He hadn’t been out in so long he had no clue what to wear. After a brief moment of panic he decided he would wear something simple. A plain t-shirt and jeans. It’s not like I have anyone to impress. Simon pushed the thought aside and finished getting ready. His final touches were a couple of bracelets, a chain, and a spritz of cologne. The last thing he did before he left for the night was shove his phone in his pocket and cut off his bedroom lights and with that he was on his way to the party.

***

Simon’s head was killing him. He’d gotten way too drunk way too fast and now he was paying for it. He couldn’t go too long without throwing up. Not to mention every time he tried to stand up his vision blurred and he ended right back on the floor. In all of the party hype he’d also managed to lose Sara and Felice. Gratefully for him he’d managed to find the bathroom which is exactly where he had spent most of his night. Hugged up to one of the nastiest toilets he’d ever seen was the quietest place he’d been since he arrived at this party, not that he was complaining. 

Simon patiently waited for everything to stop spinning and his stomach to settle before he tried to get up again. Once he was up and moving, he slowly made his way back to the party. To his shock the teenage chaos had settled down some. Usually these parties would go on the whole weekend. Whoever was in charge of the music had completely changed the vibe. Before he left they were blaring loud, bass heavy rap music and now it was smooth r&b. It was very soothing to him. Now Simon could actually hear himself think.

“There y-you are, we’ve been l-looking for you!” Sara slurred, latching Simon into a drunken side hug. Felice tried to gently pull her off so they could talk. “Really, where have you been? We looked all over for you!” Felice exclaimed. She was nowhere near as drunk as Simon or Sara. “I got really d-dizzy and s-sick. I don’t know how I got there, but I ended up in the b-bathroom.” Simon replied, sending a lazy gesture towards the men’s room he’d just left. 

“Well I’m glad you’re okay, but I guess that means you haven’t heard.” Felice’s entire demeanor changed once she finished her sentence. Simon looked at her puzzled. “What do you m-mean? Have I heard w-what?” Felice silently took out her phone and handed it to him. 

Upon first glance Simon had no clue what he was looking at. His eyes just wouldn’t focus in, but after a moment of struggling he finally got it. It was someone’s instagram. Simon checked the username. It was Willhelm’s account. The post itself was nothing but a black screen, however Simon came to realize that the caption was what was important. 

Hello. Willhelm here. Against my mother’s wishes I have two announcements to make. My first announcement is my coming out. I’m gay. Yep, the crown prince is gay. Someone very important to me made it clear that a life of hiding who I really am to keep up a fake persona is not one worth living, so I won’t be living it anymore. I hurt the most important person in my life trying to please everyone else and this is only the first step to make it up to them. I’m proud to be who I am and from here on out I will always be proud and open about it. Now that that’s out of the way my second announcement is to let everyone of Sweden know that I am stepping down from my position of Crown Prince. I’m well aware that after the passing of my brother, it was my duty to take his place, but it was never what I wanted. All I ever wanted was to be a normal kid and to live a normal life and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Thank you for reading, but for now this is all I have to say. 

Simon just kept reading the long message over and over again. He was racking his brain just trying to understand exactly what Willhelm had done. He finally publicly came out. He told the entire world that he was gay. The two had had too many conversations about this although Simon never thought Willhelm would ever actually be able to. He was the crown prince of Sweden after all. He had a certain prestigious, good boy image to keep up and his mother made it very clear what he was and wasn’t allowed to share with the public.

It was the second part of the message that Simon really had trouble wrapping his brain around. Willhelm was stepping down? Is that allowed? Is there anyone else to take his place? There’s no way in hell his mother will actually allow this. Simon had so many thoughts racing through his head. He just couldn’t make sense of it all. 

“Simon, Simon?” Felice was snapping her fingers in front of him, trying to get his attention. “Are you okay?”

“I,” Simon was at a complete loss for words. And thoughts. And feelings. He had no idea what this meant or if this even meant anything for him. “don’t know.” Surely Willhelm didn’t do this for him. Too much time had passed since he’d even laid eyes on him. There was no way he did this for him. 

Simon closed his eyes. He needed just one moment to think. This was too much for him to handle right now. He’d spent these last few months trying to convince himself that Wilhelm was well on his way to moving on. He kept trying to beat it into his brain that their break up was for the best and that everything would be okay. That he was on his way to moving on too. However all it took was some stupid instagram post to ruin all his progress. 

Felice hooked one arm around Sara and the other around Simon.“Hey Simon, let’s get you back to the dorms.” Simon opened his eyes and shook his head in agreement. The longer he stayed at this party, the harder it got to breathe. He knew he was being ridiculous, nevertheless it felt like everyone was staring at him. It felt like everyone had read the same thing he did, but they knew he was the reason behind it all. 

Maybe it was his lack of attention or maybe it was all the shortcuts Felice was taking, but Simon was back in his room in no time. Felice had gotten him everything he could need before she left. A cold bottle of water and a back up one for later, a trash can, and a couple of snacks. He was starving. After the party and Wilhelm’s bombshell announcement, he’d barely realized he hadn’t eaten anything all night. He had other things on his mind right now. He had millions of questions. All in all, he was still having a hard time comprehending exactly what had happened tonight. 

After all, what was the point of all this? As far as he knew Wilhelm was finally accepting all his royal responsibilities. The last few times they were together, Wilhelm actually seemed kinda excited. In fact he’d been doing so well with representing the royal family and behaving himself (to the Queen’s standards of course), the Queen herself was quite impressed. Simon didn’t know when things changed for Wilhelm, or why he might be the turning point for him. 

Simon sighed and reached into his pocket for his phone. It was six am. He was exhausted. Tonight had been way too much for him to handle. Earlier that night was the drunkest he’d been since his first year of Hillerska. Simon put his phone on the charger and not long after he set it down he fell asleep.

***

“Hello darling, how’s your food?” Simon’s mother asked him as she took her place across the dining room table. 

“Amazing, as always. Your cooking never disappoints!” He’d said with a full face grin. After the whirlwind of emotions and events that had occurred this past weekend, Simon decided it'd be best if he just came home and spent some quality time with his mom. He loved coming home. It always felt as though his mother had a special  way of making all his worries disappear. 

He appreciated his father springing out the money to secure him and Sara dorms at Hillerska, but sometimes he preferred staying with his mother. He had everything he needed here. He didn’t want to argue with his father, so he just let him do this and thanked him for his kindness. Getting them in the dorms was the first big thing he’d done for them in a very long time. He just let his father have that little victory and just came home whenever he needed.

“Thank you love, how is school coming along?”

“Good. A little tough right now, overall good. Classes feel like they're never ending with homework and projects, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Simon replied.

“Well it seems to be that you have a good outlook on things. How is the rowing team coming along? Do you guys know when your next event is?”

“We don’t know an exact date yet, however we think there should be another next month. If we win that one we’ll qualify for regionals. That’s the one we’ll travel for. Regionals ”

“That’s great Simon. Make sure to let me know when everything is, so I can request off from work. I’ve been picking up extra shifts, and we can turn regionals into a whole little family vacation. If you’re up for it.” 

I smiled at my mom. The thought of a getaway was amazing. We hadn’t gone anywhere just to enjoy things and relax as a family since I was younger. “I love that.”

My mother and I carried on a conversation for a while. We continued talking about our future vacation plans and all the things we could do. It was just so nice to be here with her. Being home always brought me to peace. Eventually we ended up finishing dinner. I helped my mother clear the table and put away the leftovers. I washed the dirty dishes as Mom dried them and put them away. We took place in the living room. As we continued to chat, I reached for the tv remote. 

“What would you like to watch?” I said. Once the tv came to life, I noticed it was on a news channel.

“Anything’s fine with me dear.” Mom replied. 

I was about to change the channel when something caught my attention. Footage of a car wreck flashed across the screen. It was a terrible pile up with many vehicles involved. 

“Simon, you should change that.” Mom began.

“I know mom. It must be important if it made the news though.” I said.

“True enough, but don’t leave it on for too long. You know I don’t really care to watch stuff like that.”

“I won't, I just want to see what it’s about.”

“More in about tonight’s terrible crash. We’ve gotten updates about what caused the crash. It turns out the semi-truck involved lost control of his brakes. He couldn’t slow down in time to avoid the cars in front of him. This led to a pile up as several cars behind the truck did not see this coming in time and hit the truck as well”

“Simon sweetie, I really think you should go ahead and switch to something else. This is horrible.”

“I know Mom, I just want to know.”

“The truck was transporting nothing but gasoline, so upon impact of the two government cars in front of him, there was an immediate explosion. Four people were airlifted to the nearest hospital however everyone in the government vehicles died on the scene. This includes not only several Royal bodyguards but the entire remaining members of the Royal Family. It’s incredibly sad to think about. It’s been two years since the death of Prince Eric, as well as not even a week since Crown Prince Wilhelm took to social media announcing his self-disowning of the Crown, but now we are left with no one from the immediate family. It’s one of the worst days Sweden has seen-”

Simon shut the TV off. The silence that followed was heavy. His mother didn’t dare speak a word. Not that it would help Simon in any way right now. 

He should’ve listened. Why doesn’t he ever listen?

The lump in his throat was too thick to swallow. Simon kept trying to. He couldn’t help himself. His mind was on several planets away right now. He’d heard and seen alot of things this week. He had gotten way too drunk to handle. He practically made out with the grossest toilet he’d ever seen. He read Wilhelm’s coming out and resignation of sorts all in one post. Now here he was with the news that not only had Wilhelm been in a car wreck, but he was dead. 

He had so much life to live. He had too many things to finish. Too much world to see. Too many laughs to laugh, smiles to smile, cries to cry. As much as Simon hated the thought, too many other people to fall in love with. He will never fall in love and get to love shamelessly and fully. He will never start a family. He will never get to be prince, no matter how much he hated that. 

Simon’s mind was running rampant, but he started to reel in. 

Wilhelm won’t see college. 

He won’t graduate high school. 

He won’t be there for regionals, barely two months away. 

Wilhelm was gone. Wilhelm is gone. 

Simon didn’t realize it, but tears were streaming down his face. His breathing had become short and staggered. So short that he could barely catch it. It felt like he was starting to hyperventilate. Suddenly he couldn’t keep enough oxygen in his lungs and his chest began to sting. 

Despite the desperate calls of his mother being the only sound to fill the room, all he could hear was ringing. A high pitched ringing that wouldn’t stop. He tried to speak, but once again all he could hear was the ringing. Nothing else. Simon kept trying. Over and over again. He tried to shout out for his mother. For Sara. For Wilhelm. He could feel the sting in his throat from the yelling. He just wanted to hear himself, his mother, anything but this god damn ringing. Wilhelm. Wilhelm. He wanted to hear Wilhelm. Speak to him one more time. Look into his eyes as he held him. He wanted to be with him. He was stupid for ever breaking things off in the first place. So fucking stupid. All he did was rob himself of the last few years of his life, of his own happiness. 

“Simon, baby can you hear me?” His mother was desperate for a response. She had never seen Simon break down like this. It was to no avail. Simon was worlds away in his own grief. She quickly rushed to his side and wrapped her arms around him. Simon buried his face in his mothers shoulder and continued to sob. 

***

The early morning sun shone through the cracks in the curtains. Simon flipped over to get away from the light that hit directly on his face. He grabbed the closest thing to him and brought it to his chest. It was soft and squishy. Simon opened his eyes to get a good look at it. It was his childhood stuffed animal. Simon had slept with this toy for years. It was one of the last things his father bought him before him and his mother split.

Simon got a good look at it. It was a small tiger. The black stripes had faded beyond belief. There was a small tear at the tail where Simon used to swing the toy around. 

The first thing that registered when Simon woke up was the smell of pancakes. He realized he was still at his mother’s house. A yawn overtook Simon’s face and he just let in. Simon sat up, swinging his feet out of the bed. His eyes fell onto the fish tank across the room. Watching the bright colored fish dart past each other. He smiled. He was reminded of memories of him and Wilheim watching them and making up stories of what they were doing in there. 

Wilheim. As fast as the good memories came, they left. Thoughts of the crash resurfaced. The images were so clear in his mind it felt like he’d been there. Simon choked up a sob. He covered his mouth. He couldn’t even control it. It happened too fast for him to realize. Wilheim died last night. His Wilheim. Wilheim. Gone. Just gone. You’ll never see him again. You’ll never hear him again. He’ll never speak to you, call you, text you. Look at you. Nothing. 

Tears clouded his vision and the sobs took over his body. The more these thoughts flooded his mind the less he could comprehend past the pain ripping through his body. Simon’s legs collapsed beneath him and he fell to the ground. He didn’t want to alarm his mother, however he was a wreck right now. Simon cried and cried. He didn’t know what else to do. All he felt was grief and sadness. The love of his life had vanished so quickly. So unpredictably. He wished he could go back and rewrite their story. He would love him more. He would care for him more. Listen more. Try to understand him and see their situationship from his point of view. 

The more he cried the more selfish he felt. In a way he felt responsible for what happened. If only he would’ve listened to him. Maybe they would’ve been together last night enjoying the safety of each other in one of their dorms. The thought did damage. Terrible damage. He was crying so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. It felt like there wasn’t enough air in this room. He had to get out. He needed air. He needed space. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. Simon gathered all the strength he had to get off the floor. His legs were still shaky but at least he was up. He flung the door open and started running to the best of his ability. His mother was in the kitchen finishing breakfast. She attempted to call out for Simon but he rushed past her and out the front door. 

He didn’t know where to go but he felt like he couldn’t stop his legs now that they started to work. He ran down the street and the next one and the next one and the next. Houses and buildings were nothing but blurs as he kept pushing himself further and further away. He ignored the ache in his legs. He didn’t care about it right now. The wind on his face kept him going. He didn’t feel so trapped anymore and that’s all he cared about. He could breathe again. He could feel something other than the heartache that had been plaguing him since last night again. 

Simon started to slow down. The burning of his calves catching up to him. Eventually he came to a halt. He was breathing heavily and sweat poured off of him. He couldn’t recall a time when he’d run so fast for so long. Simon looked around him, taking in his surroundings. He was at a park across town at least 30 or 40 minutes away from his mother’s house. He began walking again, hoping to find a bench or table or anywhere to just rest after his trek. Just ahead of him he saw a picnic table. He found his place at the table. Simon put his head down on the table, taking deep breaths to soothe the sting of his lungs and the sharp prickling in his legs.

He didn’t know how long he’d been running. He’d lost all sense of time. He felt around his pockets for his phone, but came up empty handed. Guilt hit him like a ton of bricks. His mother was probably worried sick. He was never like this. Leaving so abruptly and in general just breaking down so badly. He needed to get home. 

Simon decided to try to make it back on foot. He wasn’t extremely familiar with the area, but he had been around a few times in his life. Before he attended Hillerska he had school friends that lived here. He had a vague memory of a few back roads that would send him in the right direction. After what Simon thought was at least fifteen minutes he found himself more familiar with the part of town he was in. If memory serves him correctly he’s not too far from his childhood best friend’s house. A few twists and turns later and he was approaching the house he’d spent some of his best days in. 

Simon knocked on the front door. He wasn’t completely sure if Elias or his family still lived here, but he figured it was worth a shot. A quick moment later he heard shuffling from inside the home. He took a step back from the door. He was met with the sight of his dear friend’s mother. Shock and surprise shone on her face, but happiness quickly replaced both of them. 

“Simmie, I have not seen you in ages! Come in, come in! Are you well? How are you? What are you doing these days?” She bombarded him with many questions. He didn’t know who to expect at the door, but the sight of her relieved his brief anxieties. “I’m okay Ma. Graduation is around the corner. I’m not into too much lately. Just school and I’m on the rowing team there.”

She hugged him as soon as the door was closed. “That’s wonderful Simmie! Are you studying hard? Oh my goddess how are your Mom and Sara? What are they up to? Gosh, It’s been too long really.” Simon laughed at her excitement. She was always a ray of sunshine. It was hard to feel down around her. “They’re fine. Good actually. Mom works at the hospital in town. Sara is good. She’s found good friends and enjoys school. She spends all her free time horse riding. Her favorite place to be is in the stables with her horses.”

Elias’ mother looked up at him, grinning from ear to ear. “That is so good to hear. It makes me happy. What brings you to this side of town Simmie? Your house is half an hour away right?” She questioned. 

SImon’s gaze dropped to the floor. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. He should’ve anticipated this question. He tried to come up with something convincing. “I was going for a run. I’ve been working on endurance and just stopped paying attention I guess.” He chuckled awkwardly. She seemed to buy his story, so he kept going. “I left my phone at home, but didn’t go back for it ‘cause I didn’t think I’d be gone too long. I was hoping I could use your phone to call my mom to come get me.”

“Of course sweetheart. Let me grab it for you.” Without hesitation the older woman was searching the room for her cellphone. “Ah and here it is.”

Simon grabbed the phone graciously. He quickly dialed his mother’s number. The phone barely reached the first ring before she answered. “Yes, hello?”

“Hey mom. It’s Simon.”

“Oh Simon! I almost had a heart attack when you raced out. You scared me so bad. I tried to run after you but you were just so quick. Are you alright? Where are you now?” She exclaimed. Her words came out quickly and they rushed together. “I called Ayub after you left and he’s out looking for you now.”

“I’m okay mom. Just ran to clear my head. I left my phone in my room or I would’ve called you sooner. Sorry to worry you. Can you come get me? I’m at Elias’ family home. I’m calling you from his mother’s phone.”

Simon could hear her sigh of relief over the phone. “Thank the heavens you are okay. I was so so worried something was going to happen to you love. I will be there shortly. I’m going to call your friend and let him know you're safe.”

“Okay Mom. I love you. I will see you soon.” Simon hung up the phone and handed it back to Elias’ mother. She sat at the dining table across the room and motioned for him to join her. She struck up a conversation with him. She began informing him of everything he’s missed over the years. She filled him in on Elias and his current whereabouts. Simon learned his old friend ended up studying abroad in another country. He was content in this moment. The two just went back and forth detailing their lives out until Simon’s mother got there. 

The journey home was much faster than the run over and for that Simon was grateful. His mother did not question him on his previous behavior, another thing Simon was grateful for. Once they arrived home he rushed inside. He wanted to take a shower and get changed. 

Simon turned the knob noticing it was unlocked. “Mom, I think you forgot to lock the door.” 

“I thought I had, but I was also in a hurry to get to you.” She said. 

“I’m sorry Mom, I really didn’t mean to worry you. I’m not even sure what came ov-,” Simon stopped mid sentence as he turned into the house. 

He blinked and he blinked and he blinked, but it didn’t change the fact that Wilhelm was standing in his kitchen. His arms were wrapped tightly around himself. Any words Simon knew left his brain. He couldn’t fathom the scene playing in front of him. Surely this was not his Willhelm. Surely he was confused. This couldn’t be the same Willhelm that he’d loved and laughed with. The one he’d cried with, cried over, cried because of. This couldn’t be the one he’d just started mourning last night. The very same Willhelm that he’d barely braced himself to never see again. 

“Simon,” He started to speak but he didn’t say anymore. His voice was hoarse as if he’d been crying or screaming for hours. Willhelm ran to him. He threw his arms around him urgently. Simon let himself fall right into Willhelm’s arms. Simon was still in complete shock. He couldn't understand what was happening to him. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. On repeat in his mind. It was the only thought in his head. He didn’t know how or why this was happening, but all he knew was he must be hallucinating his soulmate holding onto him for dear life. 

“Simon my mom,” Simon felt a wetness on his shoulder. “My dad,” As Willhelm tried to speak, his body shook on and off. “They’re dead Si.” He choked out. Simon still couldn’t find his words. He could feel the rapid drumming of his heart against his chest. His limbs grew weaker the longer the two stood together, wrapped around each other. 

“I was supposed to be with them. I blew up on Mom and screamed at her and stormed off. I was supposed to be in that car with them Si.” Willhelm barely made out the words between his sobs. He had never seen the bubbly boy so inconsolable in their relationship. His problems had always been bigger than Simon could imagine. Royal duties and an image to upkeep, but this was different. This was a much deeper than anything the two had taken on together. First his brother, his first best friend, the only one that understood him and cared about what he had to say. Now both of his parents in a single instant were gone. 

A trail of tears fell from Simon’s eyes despite his knowledge. He could feel the earth crumbling under Willhelm much like he’d experienced last night and just a few hours ago himself. He had no idea what losing your parents felt like, but he had experienced an unbearable sense of grief. 

“I’m so sorry WIlle. I'm so sorry.” It was all he could muster out, but it didn’t matter. Simon knew that. Willhelm continued sobbing and shaking. He didn’t have the energy for anything else. In the emotional chaos the two slowly ended up on the couch. Simon’s mother watched wordlessly. She had never been a part of a situation like this. She knew the boys were in two very different states of shock and anguish, but without any true way to help she just sat at the kitchen table waiting in case either of them needed anything. 

***

Simon woke up in a mountain of pillows and blankets. He was hot and sweaty and overall overwhelmed. His body was flushed with sweat and his clothes clung to his sweatier skin. He attempted to roll over and found himself stuck in place. When he looked over his shoulder he saw Willhelm curled up to his back. His face was buried into the top of his back. One arm underneath Simon’s neck and another wrapped around his waist. They’re legs were intertwined between the blanket mound. All of yesterday’s memories flooded back instantly. His breakdown, his run across town, coming home to see Willhelm, the two crying with each other until they passed out. 

Simon eased out of Willhelm’s grasp. He pulled away some of the blankets and began folding them. He turned behind him. In the kitchen his mother was still sat the kitchen table. She had fallen asleep there. She’d covered herself with a thick blanket. She had also taken one of the small couch cushions as a pillow. A pang of guilt struck him. She had to be so lost and clueless to the mess he was in.

Simon crossed through the small space to get to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and shook gently. “Mama,” He continued shaking until he felt her stir. “Mama, go lay down. We’re fine. Get some decent rest.” His mother stretched his arms high above her. 

“Are you sure my love?” She asked in a sleepy whisper. “Yes. Thank you for being by our sides, but you need to rest.” She stood up and collect her pillow. Before she left for her room she grabbed Simon’s face and kissed his forehead. She held his face in her hands, cupping them at his cheeks. “I love you so much Simon. I will do anything for you. Never forget it.” Simon nodded. Without another word, she went to her room. 

Simon turned back towards Willhelm. He still slept peacefully behind him. He joined the boy back on the couch, only sitting on the edge. He caressed his face carefully. He let his fingertips drift along the surface of the paler boy’s face. He’d missed him. He’d missed him so so much. More than he’d ever even realized he did. He’d missed his smile. The way his hair fell so softly against his face. He’d missed the way his hands felt within his own and how his skin always felt so soft underneath his fingertips. The smell of him. The smell he couldn’t find anywhere else no matter how hard he searched. He had missed this boy so much. 

The weight on his heart was lifted. Simon was beyond lucky that the tragedy that had struck hadn’t taken his love away. He couldn’t stop thinking about how less than a day ago he didn’t know if he would ever be okay again. He had no idea how he was going to live on without Willhelm. In this moment at least he didn’t have to think that way. Willhelm was here with him. He was right in front of him. On his couch. In his home. 

Simon felt Willhelm’s body. He was just as sweaty as Simon was earlier. He didn’t want to disturb the boy, but he didn’t want him to be so uncomfortable either. “Wille,” He ran a hand through his hair, and kissed his forehead. “Wake up Wille.” He didn’t budge. Simon kept trying to wake him. “Wake up Willie. Wake up love bug.” Simon started tugging at his arms. After a little while Willhelm began to rise. His swollen eyes fluttered open. He blinked multiple times as his eyes adjusted to the morning sun. 

“What time is it?” Willhelm managed out in between a long yawn. Simon looked around for his phone. It was on the side table on the other side of the couch. He didn’t remember putting it there. His mother must have done it. He retrieved it off the charger and unlocked it. He had many missed calls and messages from his friends. Everyone had sent some variation of “are you okay, we’re worried about you.” He decided he would reply to those later. 

“Eight am.” Simon finally answered. Willhelm brought his knees up on the couch and wrapped his arms around his legs, nestling them to his chest. Simon could see reality cascading back to him. 

The two sat in silence for a moment. Neither of them knew what to say or even what came next. Willhelm had no idea what his future would hold now or what he would do with it. Simon wanted to ask, but he knew that asking would probably send Willhelm into a bad spiral right now. 

“I’m sorry Si.” Willhelm mustered. 

“What are you sorry for?” Simon inquired.

“Bombarding you last night, but I needed you.”

“I’m not mad at you for anything, and you don’t need to feel sorry. I’ve needed you too.”

“I didn’t know if you were gonna be home and when no one was here after I let myself in I was gonna leave. I’d been here for about 15 minutes and decided to go before someone called the cops on me and then you came in.”

“This doesn’t feel real honestly. I never thought I’d see you again.” Simon’s voice dropped to a whisper. He’d finally vocalized the thoughts that had taken over his brain. 

“My whole plan was to get to you.” Willhelm’s eyes dropped to the floor. Him and Simon couldn’t get their eyes off each other as the conversation began, but now Willhelm was losing confidence. 

“I only wanted you Si. I didn’t care about being King anymore if that meant I couldn’t have you.”

Simon felt tears building in his eyes. He was tired of crying. He couldn’t help them though. Willhelm had just confirmed one of his nagging suspicions. Deep in his heart he knew that Willhelm had given up the crown for him. He felt so selfish for thinking it the first time it came to mind, but he just knew that Willhelm would do something like this. He had hoped for his sake he was wrong. He hoped he wouldn’t give up the only life he knew just for him. 

“But why Wille? You know I would never have asked that of you.”

“You didn’t have to.  I told you I’d do whatever it took to be with you and I meant it. You are the single most important person to me. It ate away at me everyday that you felt so shameful of our relationship and that I wasn’t doing all I could to prove my love for you, so I made the biggest move I could possibly make to show you I was serious.” Willhelm reached for Simon’s hands. He took both of them in his own and held onto them tightly. As if he was falling and he was desperate for him to hold on to him. “You deserved more. You deserve more, and I hope you can let me begin to make it up to you. If you don’t I can understand that. I can understand if you’ve moved on or just want to be without me. I would totally understand if you felt that way. Tell me no and I will leave you alone.”

Simon thought back to the day he broke everything off with Willhelm. 

“If you loved me I wouldn’t feel like this Wille. If you loved me like you say you do then I wouldn’t have to lie about our relationship to the whole world.”

He was so broken. He felt like his life was crumbling away with every word he spoke. Everything he had known, the life and the boy he’d grown so comfortable with was falling apart at his own hands. 

“I want someone to love me unconditionally and wholeheartedly and not worry about the consequences. They love me and they would stop at nothing or no one to love me. And I know that you can’t do that.” 

Simon remembered the pure anguish in Willhelm’s eyes. The brokenness of his spirit. He felt like he was looking into a mirror because everything he saw in Willhelm, he felt in himself a hundred times over. That was the last time they spoke before yesterday and here they were all these months later. The feelings he’d felt for him hadn’t left. Simon had spent everyday wishing and begging to himself for Willhelm to come back to him. He felt stupid every time he did it, but he did it anyway. All he wanted was a do over. A fresh slate to love each other how they both wanted and needed.

“Wille, all I’ve ever wanted is you. I want to spend every minute of every day with you.”

“So is that a yes, you’ll let me make it up to you?” A pink blush took over Willhelm’s face as he popped the question. 

Simon had let a couple of tears fall as he was thinking, but Willhelm’s obliviousness made him laugh. 

“Of course that’s a yes.” Willhelm smiled. A true, goofy smile spanning from ear to ear. “Thank god.” He mumbled, lounging straight into Simon’s arms. He’d thrown his arms around Simon’s neck, enveloping him into a hug. Simon instinctively did the same. 

“I love you Wille.” Simon said into the crook of his neck.

“I have always loved you and I always will. I would crawl to the end of the earth for you.”

“I know.”

[dark9896]

Blue Bloods [Klaus x Reader]

Requested by Anonymous 🎩

After a rather nice lunch date, Klaus was almost too giddy to focus. There wasn't much to do in the office, but Klaus's mind was wandering.

Until Steven pushed a file into his line of sight.

"You really need to see this Klaus." Steven sounded worried, for once, "This looks an awful lot like [Name]."

Glancing down at the picture, Klaus stifled a sharp gasp. Lifting the file of a visiting royal, studying the face and trying to convince himself that this was merely one of your relatives, or perhaps that you simply looked alike. But every little detail lined up too perfectly for it to not be you.

A deep sigh burst the bubble of Klaus's happiness, "I don't know for certain. Though I suppose I should ask. The worse thing I would likely be saying is how [Name] looks like royalty."

"Better for you to say something than anyone else." Steven agreed, "Though the sooner the better. Our informants have heard about a kidnapping ploy to ruin Hellsalem's Lot's chances of entering the UN."

Klaus exhaled, even if you weren't the visiting noble... You'd still be a possible target just because of how similar you looked. At least it would be a quick phone call. Asking you to meet up would be the easiest thing in the world after all.

.

Sitting outside in the cafe's garden, you sipped a small latte while your lover looked deeply uncomfortable. You'd offered to say something, only to be stopped by a large hand. Hands that were currently twisting themselves over and over in a nervous winding.

"[Name], where are you from?"

Klaus's face flushed instantly. Of all the ways he could have phrased that, he clearly said the worst thing.

Tilting your head, "I'm from England. Why?"

"I... I noticed a photo in the paper." Klaus was still sweating a little, "A visiting noble person, and they looked rather similar to you."

"Hm, that shouldn't have been published yet." You frowned, "Though I am the noble being mentioned. I have business with the Ambassador on behalf of the UN. Since Hellsalem's Lot has been deemed separate from the US."

"Ah, I see. I didn't mean to pry, I was merely curious." Klaus hoped this was the end of it, "I..."

Having trailed off awkwardly, Klaus could only look at his hands. He should have come up with a better lie than reading it in the paper. But he couldn't disclose the nature of Libra, he probably wouldn't even see you again after everything was settled.

"Incidentally," You broke the tension, "I know this isn't the kind of thing one should keep as a secret. Though, I've had several people try to get close merely due to my status."

Klaus looked up at you as you kept talking, "I didn't want to cloud over our relationship with what I am. I was hoping someone could see who I was and still enjoy my company. Though I do understand if such a lie of omission is a step too far."

"Of course not Shatzi!" Klaus waved both hands, nearly knocking over his own drink, "I... I truly understand the dilemma myself. Though certainly not to the same degree."

You were able to relax a little, though not for too long as what Klaus said hit you like a truck. Face glowing pink at the sudden pet name, you hadn't been dating for too long after all. Though Klaus also realized what he said, but it was far too late to retract his statement.

Especially when he meant it.

[shallyne]

Feysand AU

A crazy lady wants to take all the power for herself (Amarantha, obvi) but she is bored of playing them all like puppets, so as she gained power over all the High Lords, she is throwing them in a dark pit with no way out. Leaving them all in that pit to die.

So they all live in darkness down there, waiting for death to claim them as Amarantha rallies her own army. There is no sense of time. Especially after the first initial time where there were fights and tears and sobs until it got silent. Just silent. The only time they get to see a bit of light is when Amaranthas cronies throw other people in this dark pit. Then the sobbing starts until it gets silent, again.

Rhys thought the hunger would be the worst thing to deal with but when he started to lose all sense of time, alone with his thoughts, he realized he would go insane before starvation would claim him. At one point, it could have been a day or a year, Rhys didn't know, he felt a shift. A shift in the world itself. He didn't know what the reason was, couldn't know that it was a human girl entering Prythian, as he held onto the last bits of his powers to protect his family on Velaris.

Feyre always dreamt since she was little to travel to the continent and become a knight to protect the royal family. She sneaked out in the middle of the night to train herself. Swords, daggers, bow and arrow. She had a secret hiding place for them all. It was far from perfect but if she kept training, maybe it was enough for someone to train her someday. She couldn't keep that schedule though, after her mother died she had to hunt for her family, her bow and arrow her only company

One day weird things happened and rumors spread about a blight in Prythian, behind the wall. People started packing their things and traveled as far away as possible. When word came that the High Lords were trapped, Feyre packed her own stuff. In the chaos she was able to steal a horse (Bryaxis). For some reason it liked her, good for her. She didn't rode from the wall though, she rode towards it. Something in her chest tugging her closer and closer, something telling her she had to do something. Anything. She had no idea what a mortal girl could do against powerful Fae, but still she followed that tug.

Somehow she defeats Amarantha together with her best friend Bryaxis and she saves Rhys and some of the other people that were trapped down there.

I did not think about the end but I like the idea.

[rowanaelinn]

Safe Place

rowaelin month day four : librairies @rowaelinscourt

warning: not descriptive nsfw content

Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius could be described as a calm male. Out of all his companions, he probably was the one with the most self-control and he thanked the Gods for it every time one of his friends said something stupid.

However, it didn’t apply when his wife was concerned. Around Aelin, Rowan’s self-control seemed to vanish. She had the ability to get him angry, to become a blushing mess or a soft idiot with just one sentence. There was no control around his mate and it was one of the reasons he loved her.

But when he woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, Rowan lost the little human part he had in himself. Rowan lost all control the moment he smelled a lingering scent of fear. Her fear.

Has she been taken again?

Has it all been a dream? Had he not got her back?

In a second, Rowan was standing, knives at the ready around his waist. He would fight to get her back if he had to. Not having Aelin by his side made him feel like all the air in the world was gone.

Rowan wanted to yell at himself for falling asleep, he should have protected her.

In all the times her Fireheart was in danger, Rowan was never there to protect her. What a poor excuse of a husband and mate he was. He still didn't know why his queen was keeping him and hadn't already thrown him out. He was useless. Completely useless.

He kept complaining because of the royal duties, kept saying he liked being a prince just fine because it didn’t bring him any mess. His only role as King Consort, mate, and husband was to protect Aelin and he had shown the world how bad he was at it. Multiple times.

She wasn’t okay, he could feel her sadness from her side of the bond. Rowan felt like a prick for being relieved at the feeling of her emotions just because it meant she was still alive and not in a damn iron coffin that blocked every chance for them to communicate.

First, he came out of the royal apartments, following Aelin’s faint scent. She had become so damn good at hiding herself with her magic, a trick Fenrys taught all of them. It was a useful skill to have, Rowan was relieved most of the time no one could track her with her scent but he wasn’t tonight. Not when he needed to see her.

Thankfully with Aelin’s condition lately, her scent was stronger which meant she couldn’t cover up all of it. He refused to imagine she had been taken away until he had searched the entire castle twice. She had to be here, somewhere.

He went first to the kitchen, hoping to find her behind the counter, a plate with chocolate cake in front of her. She would look up, fork still in mouth and she would smile guiltily at him. She would apologize, saying she was always so hungry lately and he would shake it off, taking another fork and join her even if he hated cake. Just to show her she wasn’t alone.

But when he opened the door, the kitchen was empty, making Rowan’s heart clench.

Next, he went to the throne room, hoping to find her sitting on her throne, a sad smile on her face she would try to conceal with a smirk. He would ask her what she was doing here and she would tell him she needed to be alone and to feel in power, and what better than her throne to make her feel powerful? But this room was empty too, and Rowan’s heart crushed a little further.

Maybe she was in the inside cemetery, kneeling between both her parent’s graves. She would look up at him and wouldn’t try to hide her tears. She would have a smile on her face, telling him she needed to feel close to them. To be between the two of them without waking up with blood everywhere. Rowan would nod and sit behind her, letting her rest her back on his chest and he would let her cry bringing her all the comfort she needed. But she wasn’t here, and Rowan didn’t know where to look for her now.

If they were in Rifthold, he would probably think she was speaking to either Sam or Nehemia, telling both of them everything about what happened in their court since the last time she spoke to them.

But they weren’t in Adarlan so it left only one place where she could be. His walk to the library was slow, slower than he wished. He could just shift and fly instead of taking all the stairs but if she was there she would make fun of him for it, she had enough to tease him already.

When he arrived at the library, as always, he was dazzled by the splendor of the room. The last time the librarians counted, Aelin and Rowan owned three hundred thousand books and that was a decade ago, just after the construction work was finished.

Aelin had cried and laughed and smiled for hours when she first saw it, walking through all the sections to see every book, then made love to Rowan on the floor, more tenderly than they were both used to, to thank him.

As if seized by a frenzy, Rowan walked like a mad man through the library to find her. He regretted giving her something so big, having to look at every fucking row. There were so many places to hide.

After what seemed like hours, Roan saw familiar blonde hair. He let a sob come out in relief. She wasn't gone. There was no Valg Queen that had pulled her away from Rowan, no, his Fireheart was just sitting on a couch that looked very comfortable, six pillows behind her back.

"Rowan?" She asked, raising her eyes full of concern. "Is everything okay?" Her eyebrows were furrowed.

Instead of answering, he rushed to her side, falling onto her lap to be on the same level as her and scanning her entire body to make sure she was okay and truly in front of him.

His eyes fell on a small scar on her right knee, a scar she had made during one of their training sessions. He remembered kissing the mark every night for weeks when he noticed it after enjoying his wife's goddess body. He hadn't noticed that she was injured during their workout and he felt terrible about it.

Aelin kept telling him he was fussing, but he knew deep down she liked it. She loved to be cherished and protected. He dropped his head to her lap, unable to fight a sob. She put her book aside, sitting straighter and one of her hands found her way in his hair. Rowan hated himself for the tears streaming down his face as he looked up at her, he hated himself even more for the look of agony on his mate’s face.

“Speak to me, please.” She begged him, her hand still playing in his hair.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even and strong but he couldn’t. “I thought you were gone.” He breathed deeply, trying to calm down and focusing on where he touched her, his hands and arms on her legs. “I woke up to an empty bed and your fearful scent and I panicked.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Rowan.”

“You weren’t supposed to go anywhere either last time but you still did.” He hated the poisonous words the moment they felt his mouth but his mate didn’t seem hurt, knowing anger was his way to cope.  “I’m sorry,” He hid his face on her leg, not wanting to see her hurt face.

“Don’t be,” Was the only thing she said as she kept stroking his hair. She was too good to him, she had always been. She had known so much pain her entire life but she was still an amazing person, Rowan didn’t know how much strength it must take her. The Gods knew Rowan lacked that particular strength when the time had come, he had turned into the worst version of himself. He admired his Fireheart.

After a moment, Rowan looked back at her and she smiled, his entire world brightened at this. She was okay, she was right here with him. She was safe.

“How are you?” He asked, feeling selfish for crying when she was the one who had a nightmare.

“We’re both okay, Rowan.” She reassured him as her free hand came to rest on her slightly rounded belly. Rowan’s heart swelled at the sight, he still couldn’t believe it. After years, decades, of trying Azlin was pregnant. She had been glowing for the past four months, even if she said otherwise.

“Is she still kicking?” He asked, one of his hands joining Aelin’s.

“Your son is restless, I hope you slept enough in your life because he’s not going to let us sleep much once he’s here.”

Both Aelin and him had a divergence of opinion on their baby’s sex. Aelin was sure it was a boy, whereas Rowan believed it was a girl. A girl had been their oldest in the vision he had for months when Aelin was gone. It had been too realistic to be a dream, had felt too real.

Yrene knew and had asked them if they wanted to know, but both of them agreed they wanted to keep it secret. They had too many surprises in their lives and none of them had been good, but this one would be. No more surprises unless it’s a good one.

“She’ll be worth every sleepless night.” His lips turned into a smile at the idea of a little Aelin and Rowan.

Aelin snorted. “Wait until you have to change diapers.”

At that, Rowan laughed, soon followed by Aelin. When he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, his smile faded. “What did you dream of?” He asked, needing to know why his wife had left their room after a nightmare instead of waking him up.

She lost her smile too, her body tenser than moments ago. “Nothing important.”

“Please, tell me.”

She took a deep breath and some time to answer. Rowan didn’t mind, he’d give her eternity if she needed as long as he knew what troubled his wife. He got up, lifted Aelin's legs so he could sit next to her, and then rested her legs on his while he caressed her thighs in comfort. “I was you.”

“With Maeve?”

She shook her head making his confusion grow. She had already told him about nightmares of him being taken on that beach, of him being whipped and tortured for months. He had held her as she cried, as she told him the pain of losing him would have been so much more than the pain she experienced all these months away from him.

“In Arobynn’s cave.” She whispered as tears pooled in her eyes. He wouldn’t take her in his arms, he would wait for her to do it first, no need to overwhelm her. “With your eyes missing, whole body destroyed and a cold body.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Fireheart…”

“Have you ever dreamed of me like that?” She asked and he knew she didn’t mean just dreams of her, dead.

“I did.” He admitted, his heart beating faster at the thought of it. “First in Wendlyn, when you left for Rifthold. Every time I closed my eyes I lived the day I found Lyria over and over again. But it wasn’t her small body that I saw, it was yours. It haunted me for months.” He took a deep breath, controlling his emotions. Aelin was crying, she didn’t need someone else to become a wreck. “Then when you told me you were pregnant, it started again.”

It happened more than he wanted to admit. He knew it wouldn’t happen, it was impossible, but he still could see her dead body in front of his destroyed mountain home.

Aelin didn’t say anything but she straddled him, his hands finding her waist as her fingers slipped through his hair. Her forehead came to rest on his as they both closed their eyes, enjoying each other’s company. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

His hand stroked her back, his fingers drawing the lines of his tattoo he knew by heart now. Every part of her body was written in his mind. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I know it’s rare lately.” Her warm hand cupped his cheek and he sighed in her embrace. “Whenever I don’t feel okay and you’re not around, I come here.”

“The library?”

“Or the theater if I feel like walking.” Which wasn’t a lot lately, his wife’s pregnancy was taking her so much energy they didn’t go to the theater in months. She was always so tired or in pain, he knew she missed it. “Whenever I’m here, I feel so close to you, as if part of your soul was here between these walls.”

His heart clenched at it, he lifted up his head, his lips settled gently on hers. He kissed her languidly, generously, putting as much love and passion as he could. He loved her so much he felt like dying. He would die without her.

Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt, her tongue continuing to play with Rowan's. The kiss turned from passionate to needy. He needed the reassurance she was here, she was with him, and his mate knew it.

In a matter of moments, Rowan was shirtless and had pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her naked body. Aelin had gained weight in the years since the war, her body that had once been too thin was now full. She had had a hard time adjusting, she had been starving most of her life. Even during her years with Arobynn, she was always under a strict diet to stay the best. She had never been in a stable enough place for her to thrive.

So when her flat stomach rounded out, thighs grew and cheeks filled out, it was a shock. Rowan had been there to worship her body day and night, reminding her that she was just living, and seeing her happy was the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

One of Rowan’s hands was teasing Aelin’s sensitive nipple, tearing little cries out of her perfect, delicate, lips. Her hands undid his buckle quickly as Rowan lifted his hips to slide his pants and underwear down, freeing his hard member.

Aelin didn’t waste time before taking him, her hand around him applying just the right amount of pressure. His hand slipped between her legs, directly finding her wet and warm entrance. They moaned together as Aelin’s hand movement quickened and Rowan plunged two fingers in her warmth, hitting that spot inside of her that made her scream every time.

As good as it was, Rowan craved something else, so when he groaned Aelin understood. He pulled out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste her. No matter how many years had passed since the first time, Rowan kept being surprised at how good she tasted. He moaned around his fingers as Aelin teased her entrance with his erection before sinking down, making both of their heads drop back.

Being inside of her had always felt so good, had always felt so right, as if he had been born just to do this. Her belly prevented their chests from touching but Rowan didn’t mind as he ran his hands on every inch of her skin as she started moving.

Aelin kept bouncing slowly on top of him, taking her time as she chased her pleasure, and once again Rowan realized how much he loved her. His Fireheart, his mate, his wife, and his best friend.

He loved her so damn much and he told her so, repeated it over and over again as they both fell over the edge, gripping the other’s skin as they reached the peak of pleasure.

They were both breathless as he lifted her up, pulling out of her and he used his shirt to clean her up. He didn’t want to get dressed not yet, anyway. He lied on his side, tucking his Fireheart next to him. That way, every inch of his front could touch her back. One of his hands came to rest on her belly as he took her book, opening it to where she had left a bookmark.

“What are you doing?” She asked him, her voice sleepy. He used his magic to extinguish most of the candles in the bookstore, leaving only the ones behind him lit to give him some light. "Shhh." He said softly into her ear, moving slightly to be more comfortable, and pulled her even closer to him. "You don't have to come back to reality now."  He told her then began to read her book aloud.

He couldn’t see her but deep down, he left her smile as she put her hand against his, both of them holding their baby as they hugged each other.

Aelin fell asleep quickly but Rowan didn’t stop reading, even if after many hours his voice became hoarse and his throat hurt. But if his Fireheart heard him maybe she would know he was still here, even in her sleep.

—————

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

[obae-me]

LMAO, okay so what if they discovered that Diavolo (or his dad) was MC's dad? Like they get scared and then boom, wings and horns.

This idea is *chefs kiss*. I’m assuming since this was sent in when my requests were open ages ago that this is a headcanon idea so here we go! Thank you for your patience, finally you can have some Demon!Mc content!

These are Headcanons for the Brothers, but I like the idea so much I might come back later and write some for the Undateables.

The Prince of Hell is My Half Brother?

Everything had been normal at first. Well, as normal as living in a modern version of hell with some of the deadliest demons can be. Something about it all...felt...comforting. Although MC knew that couldn’t be the case, they were unaware of what it was that alluded to the feeling of home. MC’s roommates and protectors were a little grateful when the human settled in with relative ease in their otherworldly situation, but even they questioned how the mortal could accept it all so simply. 

Diavolo himself had an idea of why. From the moment he first saw MC, something in his soul bound to them. He needed to test out this theory of his, but not by being direct, no, he would never get an authentic answer that way. Plus, it was no fun, and with his endless royal responsibilities, he felt he was due a little entertainment. 

So, he conjured up another one of his toyful ploys. With the help of Barbatos, the residents of Purgatory Hall and the House of Lamentation were trapped in the coliseum. Slowly, one of the chambers raised its protective gates, unleashing a demonic monster. It wasn’t till MC felt their life threatened when the change happened, something about their prolonged exposure to magic and the Devildom’s atmosphere managed to finally bring out the secrets in them. Their skin burned and the air around them seemed to spark...and then...they had been changed. New wings, a set of horns? 

A magical chain shot out from the empty room and dragged the creature back in, the metal gates slamming back down and locking itself into place. Diavolo and Barbatos seemed to show up out of thin air. The prince was booming in laughter while the butler tilted his head in amusement. 

“So I was right! I had a feeling,” The Demon Lord started. “Right before he went into slumber, my father had this grand plan to try to create half demon hybrids, although...I thought it had been declared unsuccessful...but you…” Something shone in his eyes, something like he’d just found something he thought had been long lost. “You are my kin! My family! Human and Demon! Exactly the sort of thing to help bring all our worlds together!”

Lucifer

This man has not been surprised by anything in centuries, whether it be due to his wits or drastically low expectations. But this...he wasn’t even sure he was seeing correctly. The human he had thought was weak and fragile suddenly had one pair of leathery bat wings and a set of horns curling around the back of their head. And...what had Diavolo just said?...Family?...Half demon?

First off, he has to drag the young prince away for a disappointed and thorough review of this ridiculously dangerous plan of his. What if he had been wrong? What if the human--or...half human--had died?! Secondly, what did this mean for the exchange program now that it’d turned out the human wasn’t quite so human after all? 

For the first time in a long while...he was unprepared how to handle this. Of course, Diavolo was elated and too caught up in the excitement of things to pay any mind to Lucifer’s woes. 

This would be...an adventure…

He’ll admit, he tried ignoring it at first, hoping that if he simply kept MC under wraps and out of dangerous situations, they’d keep the demon half under control. However, those plans were quickly dashed when one evening they’d sneezed at dinner, their wings manifesting out of thin air and smacking Lucifer square in the face. With their awakened demon powers unchecked, their own worst danger was themselves. So there was only one thing left he could do. 

He’d have to train them. 

The thought of having to devote even more time to work nearly drove him mad, but he quickly discovered that the time teaching MC was...heartwarming. Satan had been so hell-bent on teaching himself when he grew into his own form that Lucifer hadn’t taken someone under his wings like this since the Celestial Realm. It rapidly got to the point where he’d look forward to his sessions with MC. 

“You’re going to want to spread your wings wide and catch as much air under them as you can in one swoop. Flailing won’t get you anywhere,” Lucifer explained, feeling the half-human grip his hand tightly as they stood at the edge of the roof. 

They squeezed their eyes shut with fear, but he could feel their heart pumping with adrenaline at the excitement. “What if I fall?” 

“You won’t. But, on the chance you do, I’ll catch you.” He released their fingers and stepped off the ledge, falling down for the briefest of moments before his wings outstretched and he fluttered up, remaining stagnant in the same spot in the sky a few feet away from the precipice. “Alright, come on. Those wings aren’t just for decoration you know.” MC was wary, nearly petrified with fear. He sighed, reaching out his hand towards them despite being so far from them. “Trust me.” With a breath, they closed their eyes and pushed their body off the ground with a single flap. It was choppy, and the more they panicked, the more distressed their wings became. But they moved forward, eyes glued to the ground far below them. Once they were in reach of Lucifer’s hand, they pulled him close, face planted in his chest while clinging onto him for dear life. “See, you did it,” he beamed, chest swelling with pride. 

The longer he held them against him, the more they were able to get used to how hovering felt, the more the fear melted away. They pulled apart from him, managing to stay level with him. “I...did...I’m-I’m flying.” 

Their pure awe and obvious statement elicited a chuckle from him. “You are. Quite an experience isn’t it? Come along now, you still have those new extensions to break in, and let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like a peaceful soar under the stars.”

Under his tutelage, MC would have themselves under control in no time. 

Mammon 

Of course he was shocked, why wouldn’t he be?! His little human was...half demon? What was the point?! How was he supposed to protect them, to be the world to them, to...He felt a little betrayed. But then again...he took a moment to ponder this new discovery. Diavolo’s family? Royalty? The potential access to the Demon King’s funds?! He and his pact-mate were one small step away from the most Grimm he’s ever seen! He sulked for a little bit but then was perhaps the most excited of the bunch. Well, save for Diavolo. 

The profits! The benefits! The schemes! Glorious treasures and buckets of money were all he could think about for a while. That was, until he noticed them nearly tripping on their own wings and getting things snagged in their horns. At the end of the day...this was still MC, still his...friend, and now it seemed he had more reason to protect them than ever. 

But money was still on the table...if MC wanted it to be anyway. 

As shocking as it was, he’d been taking a lot of the blame and brunt of MC’s mistakes. Wings accidentally popped out and broke a vase? He’d comforted them as they panicked and tried to convince Lucifer it was his doing. Horns manifesting themselves in the middle of the night and shredding their bedding? He’d pay for a replacement. After all, what kind of lousy ‘first’ demon could he be if he couldn’t even look after MC despite appearances? He was still pleased there were things he could do for them, that there was a reason to keep him around. 

Half-demon or no, MC was still his “stupid human”. 

Shaking his head, he allowed himself a heavy sigh and a shrug of his shoulders as he looked down at MC, struggling to free themselves from a tangle of curtains. However they got themselves in this position, only his father knew. Their wing was wrapped in the fabric and one of their horns snagged, unable to let them escape. “I thought I told ya to avoid dangly things till you can control this form of yours.” Despite his best attempts at looking disappointed, he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer, his bubbly chuckles bringing a blush to MC’s embarrassed face. 

“Don’t laugh, just help me out!” 

“That’s notta very nice tone to have for the only person around to help, ya know,” he teased, smirking down at them with a glint in his eyes. 

They groaned, tugging once again at the curtain that seemed to have a death grip on the rod despite their struggle. Their wing got bound tighter in the shift, causing them to wince and Mammon to drop his smile. “Mammon, please…” 

He dropped to his knees and grabbed their face with his hand as he kept them steady. Tearing a bit at the hole they’d already made with their horn, he helped get their head free. MC wrapped their arms around his neck and pressed their face against his chest while he busied himself observing the mess they’d gotten themselves in. “Man, how’d you even manage this…? It’s gonna have to go.” 

“The wing?!” MC shouted, eyes wide with fear. 

“Nah, you silly human, the curtain.” Gripping the tear, he pulled his hands apart, the sharp sound of breaking seams cracking through the room. The bottom half of the drapes had successfully been separated. With it, MC already felt the pressure lessen. “There we are,” he announced, unwrapping them till they were finally free. MC stretched their wings and grinned with relief. “What would you do without the Great Mammon, huh?” 

There would be plenty of mistakes to come, but Mammon would always be by their side to help them out of it...if he hadn’t helped get them there in the first place. 

Levi 

OMG are you kidding?! This is exactly like the plot in ‘I Had No Idea Who I Was Till I Awoke In A Strange Land And Now I Have Secret Powers! And Oh, Turns Out The Prince Is My Half Brother!’, it couldn’t get any closer than that! The twist! The shock! It was like he was living in a real life fantasy! (Apparently being a demon and constantly surrounded by magic and spells doesn’t quite fulfill his expectations)

Honestly, he’s having a little meltdown in his head, which is obvious to the others due to his fervent muttering and the eyes that never seem to focus. He thinks they’re cool already, so cool, but now they’re even better! Better than him! A cute human with now the powers and features of a demon, and technically a royal?! He can’t compete with that! How are they ever going to look at him the same again? They even have wings! He doesn’t have those! Envy hardly even begins to describe his feelings.

He needs to go have some time to cool down and clear his head, but when he comes back, he’ll be ready to call them a normie again. 

His...fickle and crippling emotions drives him to avoid MC for a while. He doesn’t know how to approach them anymore. What if they’d suddenly changed? What if they didn’t need him or want him around? Endless what-if scenarios ran through his head, not even TSL seemed to help. But, he had to come out of his room eventually. If not out of sheer loneliness, because he’d finally ran out of health-items (aka food and water). 

Besides...while he does his best to convince others that 2D is supreme, he can’t deny that he’s missed his friend, his Henry, immensely. 

During one of his supposed “supply raids”, Levi passed MC’s room, peering in through the open door. It was mid-day, well into school hours, meaning everyone but him should be gone, but...MC was there, sitting on their bed. They scrolled through apps on their phone, refreshing, closing and opening the same apps over and over again before finally setting their D.D.D. aside. He noticed they looked...bored...and lonely. A moment like this would’ve been the perfect time to throw the door open wide and go comfort them...that’s what anime characters usually did...it’s something his brothers had no issue with. But his anxiety overwhelmed him, and he instead tried to speed past the door. 

Apparently alongside their new features, MC had gained a keener sense of awareness. They quickly turned their head, watching the blur of him speed past their door. “Levi! Wait!” Dashing out into the hallway, their wing jammed against the doorframe, causing them to tumble to the floor. A sharp intake of air was sucked through their teeth, and Levi’s panic triumphed over his unease. 

“MC! Hey, are-are you alright?” He got to his knees beside them, his hands hovering over them but not having the courage to follow-through. 

“Y-yeah, I’m still not quite used to these yet,” MC frowned, curving their own wing around their body to rub at the sore spot. 

Lip twitching, he focused on an interesting spot in the carpet before speaking. “S-so, why...why are you home and not at RAD?” 

“Diavolo and Lucifer...thought it would be best that I stay at home until I get...adjusted,” They explained, their voice sounding low and distant. 

There were so many things he wished he would’ve said. ‘I’m sorry’, ‘well, at least you aren’t alone’, ‘you’ll get the hang of things in no time’. But what he really said was, “O-oh.” And now here they were in some awkward silence. Somehow, Levi had come up with the idea that MC would now be one of the most popular people in the realm. Demons fawning over them, their life instantly changed, a life they didn’t need him in. But here they were, lonely like he was, stuck inside like he was. “D-do-do you,” he stuttered. “Do you want to hang out in-hang out in my room?” 

A familiar smile painted onto their face, and it made his chest tighten. “If you’re okay with it, then sure!” 

He’d missed them. “Okay! You remember that show we watched last week? They came out with a new episode! Oh, and-and some new figures I ordered arrived, you can help unbox them with me if you want!” He helped them rise to their feet. “But uh...I can’t have you knocking over things in my room…” He released his tail, blushing as he carefully wrapped it a few times around MC’s torso, keeping their twitching wings carefully pinned against their back. 

Even though they’d transformed and been announced as Diavolo’s half-sibling...some things just didn’t change. 

Satan 

Very intrigued, so much so he began sputtering off questions immediately. How did this come about? How long is their lifespan? How powerful are they? What’s their soul like? How does the pact work? Are they resistant to demon and human weaknesses? Will they have some inheritance of the kingdom? He’s throwing out so many inquiries, even Diavolo has a hard time keeping up. 

The only thing the prince could tell Satan was that he didn’t know. The prince had never come into contact with a demon/human offspring before, he wasn’t even sure if there were others out there. Even if there were, the hybrids themselves probably wouldn’t even know. After all, it wasn’t until their arrival to the Devildom till MC’s powers had been ignited. Satan, unsatisfied with the lack of information, decided that he’d have to record, document, and discover everything himself. 

Which meant MC would hardly be out of his sight. 

Someone has to almost restrain him from experimenting too much on them, but he’s practically vibrating with excitement. Unexplored knowledge, something new for him to pursue. He decides to start off easy and safe, and by that he means taking MC into his room to have a deep interview session with them, not letting them go till they’ve told him every aspect of their lives up till now. Not only did he learn a lot about them that day, but he remembered that despite his vast knowledge...there was too much he didn’t know. 

Their updated appearance didn’t change his feelings about them, and he’d control his curiosity for the most part on behalf of their sake...and health. Although, not even Diavolo himself could get rid of the temptation completely. 

“MC!” Satan exclaimed, bringing in an armful of items into their room with a genuine gleeful curl to his lips. He set things down on their bed, items that...MC was wary about, but it was so difficult to deny him this when he was so elated about the whole thing. Plus, he’d given them endless hours of attention, and MC would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t enjoy it. “Now, before we continue...what are your thoughts on poison?” Singling out a vial, he presented it to the exchange student. “Or rather, I suppose the proper term would be ‘being poisoned’.” 

MC let out a loud exhale, shifting their shoulders as their wings twitched against them. “Satan, you know I’m very happy to help you with your research, but I’m not guzzling poison on the off chance that I have a resistance for it.” 

He swiftly pulled out another tiny glass bottle. “Even if I have the antidote right here?” MC’s eyebrows lowered. “No? Alright,” Satan conceded, “We can come back to this later.” Next he put on a thick pair of oven mitts, pulling out a set of tongs as he tilted his head back and reached into the box. MC’s thoughts raced with ideas of what this dangerous item could be. And then...Satan pulled out a Holy Book. 

“Wait, really? Just a book?” MC couldn’t help but huff over the irony of Satan being afraid of a book. “I’m pretty sure I’ve touched one before.” 

His face scrunched up in annoyance at being teased. “It’s not just any old book, MC, it’s not like demons reel back at any mention of our father. This one has been blessed by Simeon.” The demon of wrath brought it over, holding it within reach. With that...MC hesitated a bit. They wouldn’t get burned right? They at one point had been blessed directly by the angel! Taking a deep breath, they held out a single finger, letting it drift slowly toward the cover. Breath held, teeth clenched, they touched the holy book with their fingertip. Nothing, not even a tingling sensation, however, in a bit of revenge, they reeled back, exclaiming as they cradled their hand near their chest. 

Satan got so startled, he flung the book to the side, rushing over to grab MC’s wrist. “Hold on, hold on, let me see, let me-” He observed their skin, noticing no irritation, and then picked up on the mocking smirk on their face. Lowering his eyes and head, he took the hint. After all, even them just acting as if they were in pain reminded him that there was no way he could put them in danger. “You’ve bested me, no more tests…” 

“No more dangerous tests,” MC corrected, watching him splutter as they booped the end of his nose with the finger they’d ‘burnt’. 

Together, with his wits and MC’s patience, they’d discover what new surprises half-demon had to offer. 

Asmo

Shrieking with surprise, Asmo nearly fainted. The sleek horns, the velvety wings! He’d already adored MC from the get-go but now he was obsessed. He ran over and jumped up and down in excitement, begging to touch their new features. With permission, he ran his hands all over them. The horns were smooth, sharp, but he could tell they weren’t as strong as they should be, like newborn demon horns. The wings were powerful, beautiful. He ran his hand over the sheer skin and heard MC gasp. Extremely sensitive, as they should be. 

Did someone say shopping spree? Because he did! They’re going to need new clothes for their form. He can’t stand to see them try to tuck their wings under their usual shirts, and of course they’d have to replace a few outfit casualties as they’d been either rendered to shreds or riddled with holes. Getting stuff done with their new demon features is a whole new ballgame than they’re used to! 

But they had nothing to worry about, Asmo is there to teach them all about their new body. 

MC, of course, is a bit embarrassed at first, but without having anyone else to really depend on, and having zero knowledge on this type of stuff, they look to him for help with the delicate things. He helps them get dressed till they’re used to it. He helps wash and clean them, teaching them proper methods for horn and wing care/hygiene. Most of all, he really assures them that what they’re feeling is natural. Ever since the transformation, their wings have been twitchy and their horns have been infuriatingly irritated. 

He sympathizes, he remembers what it was like, he remembers the shock of it all. If only he had someone there to help him and his brothers through it when they’d changed. He won’t let that stress happen to MC, it’s not healthy!

The scraping and scratching could be heard from outside their room. Asmo’s chest filled with pity. As he opened the door, he observed them rub their horns against the bed frame. Gashes and missing chunks ruined the carved wood. As much as it pained him, he found himself scolding the exchange student anyway. “MC!” He’d left for just a few minutes, a few! And already they’d begun to do exactly what he warned them not to do. 

Eyes watery, they looked up to him with a painful expression on their face. “It won't stop, Asmo!” 

He pursed his lips, unable to be too harsh when he knew how irritating growing horns could be. “I know, darling, but your poor bed!” Placing down the things he’d brought over, he squatted down in front of them and cupped their cheek as he turned their head from side to side. “And your poor horns!” The top thin layer coating the new pesky things sticking out of their head now had small splinters of wood stuck in them. He tutted at MC, glad he’d had the foresight to bring along tweezers. Gently, he guided them up to their bed, sitting behind them as he began to pluck the splinters out. Anytime his hands got close, MC instinctively moved to bump their horns against him. “Try not to move, darling, the faster I get these out the faster you’ll feel better.”

“I’m sorry, Asmo,” MC groaned, tightening their neck and shoulders as they focused on remaining still. 

“Nothing to worry about, dear. You’re taking this new beautiful form of yours extremely well, all things considered.” Once the last sliver of wood had been removed, he brushed his hands over their smooth horns, rubbing the base of them between his fingers. They jutted their head against his hands, taking a deep breath at the sensation. But he wasn’t done yet, he’d brought over some special solution to encourage horn growth. Smearing the mixture in his hands, he then began to massage it into the new protrusions. They melted into his touch, grateful for some relief, but eventually gasping when the touch of his soft skin was exchanged with an odd firmness. Nearly purring, Asmo had changed into his own demon form to rub his horns against MC’s. It was like finally being able to scratch that one itch just out of their reach. “Better?” He cooed, giggling when all MC could do was hum in response, shifting their head up and down, faces side to side as they worked to rub their horns together at every angle. 

Demon form? Human form? He loved MC either way with everything in between, and he hoped he could help them feel that way too.

Beel

He started off more concerned than anything. Was he one of the only ones upset that they had been locked away and almost attacked in order to get this result? In fact, while everyone was taking their time with their own reactions and revelations, he went over to MC and made sure they felt safe. They’d been frightened enough to change without meaning to, and the added swarm of information and the shock of the sudden change drove them into a fit. Making sure they were okay was more important than discussing their new looks. 

Once everyone had settled and Beel made sure MC was home and comfortable, then he started thinking more about it. Does that mean they were stronger than normal humans? Could they start to do more things demons could do? He started thinking about all the foods he adored but were deemed poisonous to humans. Maybe they could eat those! He could share some of his favorites! But...he didn’t want to risk it. 

Without knowing for sure what they could and could not handle, he’d continue to treat MC as if they were a normal human anyway, which MC greatly appreciated sometimes. 

Although, Beel quickly discovered that continuing to act like MC was still a typical human...wouldn’t quite work out in his favor either. MC had quickly started to figure out what they were capable of, spiraling more and more out of control the more invincible they felt they’d become, which almost gave this boy a heart attack. Once, they’d figured out they could climb walls, but ended up getting their claws stuck in the ceiling and had to wait for Beel to tug them free. Another time, he’d walked in just in time, pulling MC away just before they could grab onto one of Satan’s cursed books. 

He’d have to watch them like a hawk to make sure they didn’t accidentally dive headfirst into danger. 

“Where’s MC?” Beel asked his twin, returning from a trip to the kitchen, the remnants of his snack still remaining on his chin. 

Belphie looked up from his pillow, eyes still glazed over with sleep. “Hmm? Oh...they must’ve left.” As he yawned and blinked away tired tears, the demon of sloth shrugged. “Last I remember, they said something about wanting to pet a puppy.” Nestling back into his pillow, he grumbled. “But they know...Lucifer won’t let us have any...ani...” And then he was back asleep.

Beel wiped away the last few crumbs off his face, licking them off of his fingers before feeling a jolt of panic. No! Certainly MC hadn’t meant…! Bolting, he rushed past some of his brothers with the intensity and muscle of a charging bull. Luckily, he caught up to them just as they attempted to go inside the crypt that was home to big grumpy Cerberus. He didn’t even give MC a chance to notice him before he grabbed them by the back of their shirt and slung them over his shoulder, one arm pinning their wings to their back so they couldn’t struggle. 

“B-Beel, wait! I just wanted to play with him! Hey! Hold on!” Their pleas were falling on deaf ears, but they were stronger than he remembered, allowing them to break free and leave him staggering for just a moment. That moment was long enough for them to fly up to the rafters, a frisky shimmer reflecting off their eyes. 

Beel folded his arms, starting off with a stern stare. “MC, it’s too dangerous.” 

“I can handle it! I know it! Please, Beel?” He watched them leap from beam to beam, his heart thumping wildly with every movement. “I just have this energy! This urge to do something crazy!” He blinked, taking in the words for a moment before realizing that all his hand-holding and protectiveness had stifled them and bottled up all their demonic urges till they finally boiled over. Everyone had been so focused on all the other aspects that he forgot how badly demons loved to just play. 

His face fell as he felt disappointment in himself for not noticing soon enough. He needed to stop constantly fearing for them. Then, he raised his head, nodding to them as he spoke. “Tackle me,” he stated. 

MC tilted their head. “What?” 

“Tackle me. Come at me as hard as you can. You won’t hurt me, I promise.” MC took some time to think, before a lively smile formed on their face. They dived from the rafters towards him, skidding against the floor as Beel avoided them with a single side-step. Beel gave MC a moment to figure out that he’d dodged before running away. Of course, he wasn’t at his full speed, giving MC a chance to catch up easily. He’d almost made it all the way up to his own room before a heavy weight threw itself on his shoulders. It wasn’t enough to send him to the floor, but he had to catch himself from falling over. MC crawled over him, playful growls rumbling in their chest as they continued to try to force him to the floor. “Not quite,” Beel laughed, pulling them off of his body and placing them aside. “Let’s try again.” 

Until it got out of they’re system, Beel hoped he could be a suitable replacement for all the chaotic things they wished to do. 

Belphie 

The first thing he did when he caught eyes on MC was blink and then sigh. What a crazy dream he was having. Getting trapped in the colosseum, almost getting mauled on by a fierce monster? And now MC was before him with wings and horns and Diavolo had just announced that he was essentially MC’s half brother? Yeah right. Someone needed to wake him up already, this dream was getting too weird. 

It wasn’t till they all got home and got a good night’s sleep till he realized it was real. Waking up to go to breakfast and see that they still were having a hard time with their form? It wasn’t a dream...they were...half demon? 

These crazy feelings and questions had already left him exhausted, and he just had gotten up from a solid 14 hours of sleep.

It takes him a while to adjust, after all, he’s got some baggage from events best-not-mentioned, and this new predicament has left him feeling pretty guilty. Although, something about it gives him hope. At one point, he’d adored the human world, and seeing that the human he’d begun to adore was also half demon? Maybe it was a sign that humanity wasn’t so terrible after all. Maybe Diavolo was right about the whole...peace between worlds thing, as tiring as it sounded. As long as he didn’t have to do much about it, he didn’t mind. It didn’t affect him much, right? He could still sleep. However...cuddling with MC now proved to be more of a hassle than usual. Whether their wings would pop out at random times and push him away, or their horns ending up almost poking an eye out, he wanted to find a solution quickly. 

The one thing he refused to give up was comfortable naps with MC. 

“Beeelllphiiie,” they whined. “I want to go to bed, this isn’t necessary.” 

He ignored them, trying to push past the fact that he found them especially adorable when they were tired. But he felt it was absolutely necessary, after all, this was the third time those pesky horns of theirs nearly left a scratch mark on his cheek. He couldn’t believe how inconvenient this was for him. (He’s kinda a brat like that, but he does his best) He continued to work, pulling multiple fluffy socks over their horns, stuffed with layers of the filling from the pillow they’d accidently torn open. “I’m almost done.” 

“Belphie!” MC shook their head, reaching up in an attempt to remove his work. “It feels weird.”

Grasping their wrists, he frowned. “So does getting poked with these in the middle of the night,” he quipped. His exasperation quickly turned into smug laughter as he observed his handiwork. With a palm, he squeezed the new protection over MC’s horns, unable to feel the sharpness of them. 

MC vigorously shook their head again, but the padding stayed. “I don’t like it.” 

“Then learn to control your form,” he retorted, dragging them back over to bed, holding in laughter again as they stumbled, the added weight to their head throwing them off balance. 

They didn’t take kindly to all his back talk and cheekiness. Grabbing his pillow from their bed, they decked him over the head with it. “If you can’t be nice, you can leave,” MC huffed, crawling back into bed with their back turned to him, attempting to find a comfortable position. Their lack of decent sleep after this whole thing had happened had left them in a grumpy mood. That, and well, maybe he did push things too far. 

“I’m sorry.” From sour to sweet in seconds. He sat on the bed, pressing his hand against their shoulder blades. “I know you can’t help it. It must be uncomfortable, huh?” He could recall what it was like, his horns and new tail had bothered him for quite some time after the change. He rubbed their back and shoulders, pleased with himself when MC turned over on their other side to face him. 

“I’m so tired,” they whispered. 

“I know.” Belphie pulled the covers back over them, settling in his own spot beside them before giving their fluffy horns one last squeeze. “Let’s get some sleep.” 

If there was anything he could help with, it was the luxury of comfort. Until MC settles back into their own skin, he’ll make the transition as cozy for them as possible.

[berrydoodleoo]

If Ignis were himself, he would no doubt have counseled them against the trip, or at least proposed some kind of clever work around. Gladio would have loomed and grumbled, and then would have been the first to bow at Luna’s bedside with some courtly, if gruff, remark. But of course, Ignis wasn’t himself, and really, neither was Gladio. And Noctis knew it was all his fault.

But Prompto was insistent, and he was trying so hard to be himself and keep things light. He'd taken over Iggy’s duties of cooking and planning their trip, and still found time and energy to help Ignis activate the handicap settings on his phone while keeping up a steady stream of light-hearted chatter. Not to mention visiting Luna and helping out with the rescue and relief efforts. It was like watching someone do a ballet in a field full of giant boulders – three of which were named Ignis, Noctis, and Gladiolus – he just kept moving, kept dancing, and you almost couldn’t see the toll it was taking on him.

Almost.

So Prompto brought up visiting Luna’s hospital room again, as-if casually, mentioning that he’d had word from Weskham as to where she was currently hidden, and that he was sure he could get them in without being noticed by Imperial spies. And besides, Pryna had licked his hand when he’d visited last, which probably meant that Luna was going to wake up soon, any day now, and wouldn’t it be something if she woke up while Noct was there? A kiss from Prince Charming, eh?

Gladio had snorted, an ugly, mocking sound, and Prompto had stuttered to a halt, with an expression like his heart was breaking. Ignis had averted his face, just slightly. Shutting the whole world out. And Noctis had dredged up a voice (his own? someone else’s?) from the vise clamping his chest and said sure, Prom, let’s go.

And so they did.

Traveling the streets of devastated Altissia in Lucian royal black was probably unwise, but Prompto seemed to exude a notice-me-not aura that, in conjunction with the chaos still gripping the city, was enough to let them travel unmolested. They kept to the areas packed with refugees where possible, where everyone had their eyes glued to the screens announcing ferries and how long the current wait lists were (some were hours, most were days) instead of at each other. It did nothing for his nerves, which were a constant jangle, but at least no one stopped them. Or worse, shouted, hey, Prince Noctis!

The hospital was mostly intact, at least from the outside. Upon entering, it became clear that it had suffered a beating, either from Leviathan or the Imperial forces. The first level was still flooded, the polished marble turned treacherous by a thin layer of mud. The smell of mold competed with the smell of hospital bleach, and Noctis almost gagged.

There was a crowd here, too, too many people to fit in the emergency room reserved for the most critical cases. Noctis stood aside as Prompto shuffled about, standing on his toes, trying to find the best way forward without attracting too much attention.

A little kid with a bloody rag tied to his forehead stared at them. Noctis met his eyes and then regretted it, trying to look away and act casual. When he glanced up, the kid had wandered from his sleeping mother to stand beside them, still staring silently.

Prompto almost collided with the kid, and then did a double-take. “Hey!” he exclaimed quietly, and he sounded happy. “Stanford, my man!” He crouched, careful to keep the edges of his jacket out of the water. “How you doin’? Still waiting for a doctor, huh?”

Stanford – he must have been a few years younger than Talcott, too young to be so injured and haunted-looking – nodded, popping his filthy thumb into his mouth.

“Can I take a look, dude?” Prompto asked, gentle, touching the bandage on the child’s head. He nodded again.

It made Noctis’ eyes water, seeing how gentle Prompto was with the kid. He unwound the bandage and checked the wound beneath – the sight made Noctis wince – and produced some wrapped bandages and antiseptic wipes seemingly from his pocket (Noct felt the tug that meant they’d really come from the Armiger). He talked the whole time – man, those are cool shoes, I love chocobos, and how old are you again, dude? like, sixteen, right? or seventeen, you’re in high school, right – trying to coax some words out of him. Stanford was clearly listening, half-smiling at Prompto’s jokes, but was otherwise unresponsive.

He submitted to the cleaning with only a little tearyness. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t about anything Prompto had said.

“Do you have more magic potions?” he asked hopefully.

Prompto winced, shooting a quick glance at Noct. They’d agreed early on not to share their potions with people – it was too easy to trace them back to Noct, and Ignis was always concerned they would run out at the worst possible moment (which, to be fair, they had done so more than once).

“Not at the moment, little dude,” Prompto was jittering, hurrying to finish wrapping the bandage, “but uh, maybe later, I can, uh–”

Noctis reached into his back pocket and summoned a potion from the Armiger, the same trick Prompto had just pulled. It was weak – he just hadn’t been able to summon the magic for a proper Elixir once it was clear they wouldn’t help Ignis’ eyes – but it would help ward off infection and help with pain management. For a little while.

Stanford’s eyes lit up, and he started to snatch the glowing bottle from Noct’s hand. But then he hesitated. “For – for me?” he asked, staring up at Noct with the hugest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Yeah.” Noct tried to smile for him, extending the potion a bit further. “Of course.”

Stanford accepted the bottle, hugging it to his chest as if were a precious treasure. Now his eyes glowed with happiness, watching Noct, and he stood obediently still as Prompto finished retying the headband that kept his bandage in place. “Can I share it with my mom?” he eventually asked.

Noctis glanced at the sleeping woman, and wondered what was wrong with her. Was she injured, too, or just exhausted? “Yeah,” he said again. “Just don’t tell anyone else, okay?”

Would the woman even accept it, if her son told her he had a magic potion from a strange man? Well, maybe she would assume it came from a doctor, or that it was still the harmless bottle of (Noctis checked) apple juice it had started out as. Albeit glowing apple juice. Well, marketing, right? Maybe it wouldn’t seem too weird.

It was Stanford’s to do with as he chose. If he wanted to give it to his mom, or a total stranger, or pour it down the drain, Noctis wouldn’t stop him. He just didn’t have the energy.

Stanford’s eyes went even wider, but he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said.

Brave little man. Noctis tried to smile for him again, moved his lips in the familiar gesture, and the kid tried to smile in return. If his own forced smile made him look as sad as Stanford’s did, Noctis mused, then it was no wonder people kept flinching away at the sight.

~

They found an un-monitored stairwell, the door blocked off with yellow tape. It quickly became clear as to why it was locked down – some tree branches and half a gondola were poking through the battered walls, tossed through marble and concrete by Leviathan’s rage. Worse, there were puddles of slimy water everywhere.

Prompto kept ahold on Noct’s arm – Noct realized he’d been doing that since they left their borrowed refuge in the Secretary’s home, as if Noct would drift away without the anchor – as they made their way up the stairs. “I don’t think he’s gonna keep it a secret, man.”

Noct had to blink himself back to the present. “Huh?”

“Stanford. With the potion.”

Noct shrugged. “Didn’t get the impression he was talking much.”

“Noct…”

“It’s not a big deal. We’ll be out of here soon.”

Prompto seemed deflated, guiding him up the stairs. “Yeah.”

Noct let himself be led. What did Prompto expect him to say? Maybe he wanted Noct to go back down the stairs and offer to help everyone else in the room. Give out their store of potions, grab some bottles of water and start enchanting those, too. Act like a king for once, instead of piece of luggage that had to be carted to and fro by people smarter and more capable.

“I just feel bad, you know?” Prompto said, his voice echoing a bit in the humid, smelly space. “I’ve never done anything to deserve you guys – traveling with you guys, using your magic, seeing the gods, I – I don’t deserve any of this – this magic, this specialness, I’m just –” He swallowed. “And then there’s kids like Stanford, and man, I just don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anything.”

Noctis let his arm slide through Prompto’s grip until he could squeeze his hand. They paused, side-by-side as they sidled around a piece of crushed stairwell, and Prompto squeezed back. Hard.

~

Noct started feeling floaty once they left the stairwell. Parts of this floor were still in use, despite the damage and the flickering lights. But Prompto knew the way, avoiding the lighted areas, and led him to a dark hallway behind more yellow tape.

Noct felt his steps slowing. He and Prompto’s arms, connected by their held hands, stretched like a rope between two ships tugged in opposite directions. They reached a door, Prompto produced a key, and Noct thought he might faint. He pulled free of Prompto’s grip to lean against the wall, heart laboring, spots filling his vision.

Luna. Luna was on the other side. Once he saw her, it would all be real.

He needed more time. Time to get ready, time to be better, time to be the King she believed he was. All he could picture was her face – somewhere between the child he’d known and the woman he’d seen in official broadcasts – crumpling in disappointment, and the fact that it hadn’t happened (yet) did nothing to lessen the pain. Gods. Gods. He couldn’t do this. More time—

Prompto’s face appeared, looking worried and frantic, and then Noct was being hauled into the unlocked room despite his sluggish limbs. He heard the door shut behind them, closing them in safely. And when he opened his eyes, he was in Luna’s hospital room.

“Dude,” Prompto was whispering. “Breathe.”

Noct nodded.

“Breathe. Breathe.” Prompto pressed a quick, awkward kiss to his forehead. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

Noct breathed, or tried to breathe. When he opened his eyes, he could see Luna in her hospital bed, traced in appallingly bright sunshine, and he swayed again. Prompto caught him, held him up, held him in place. Just held him, really.

For a minute, he had the inane thought that Clarus and Gladio were on the other side of the door, and if they came in they would see Noct snuggling with Prompto and the game would be up. And then he remembered that Clarus was dead, that Gladio wanted nothing to do with him, and that this wasn’t his father’s hospital room, after the stroke that nearly claimed his life a year ago. Something about the smell, the beeping, the seafoam green of the curtains and blankets, must have taken him back. And his dad was dead, anyway, dead like Clarus, dead like Ignis almost was, dead like Luna almost is….

“I can’t do this,” Noct whispered, when Prompto backed off to give him a little space.

Ignis would have said, yes you can, Highness. Majesty. Gladio would have said, don’t give me that crap, you’re gonna do your duty if it kills us both. Luna would have said, none of us know what we can do until we do it, or fail trying. But I do believe in you, Noctis.

Prompto just whispered, “I know, man.” Noctis met his eyes, briefly, and the love and sorrow there stole his breath. “That’s why I’m here to help.”

Noctis glanced back, thinking of escape, about making excuses and stepping out, running away, back to the Secretary’s house and the room where Ignis and Gladio tip-toed around each other and the smothering silence. And then he swallowed, and squeezed Prompto’s hand, and nodded, meeting his eyes one more time.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, and Prompto led him forward, into the light.

[innocentbi-stander]

I had a wild dream last night and an urge to write this out

Okay but... a pseudo Witcher Anastasia au that’s actually completely different?

The Romanovs were a prominent family on the Continent, royalty known for their wealth and good natural towards in-humans

They served all people well and were beloved by many

It was even rumored that they had fae blood running through their veins, and held royal position in fae courts as well

Members of the Romanov family possessed a powerful magic, usually based in nature

It was this powerful magic, their possibly inhuman status, and sympathy and kindness towards other inhuman people that caused some people to fear them

In the wake of the Great Cleansing the Romanovs realized they’d have to go into hiding

However they were ambushed while traveling to a safe house and the entire family was brutally slaughtered. All of their bodies were found, except for one of their youngest sons, 3 year old Julian Romanov

The slaughter of the Romanovs became a great source of tragedy even though their deaths were said to have been for “the good of the Continent”

Unbeknownst to the rest of humanity, a band of elves had discovered the carnage of the Romanovs long before anyone else, and more importantly, had found the young Julian Romanov hidden between the roots of the elm tree where his mother had shoved him moments before her death

The world was left to believe that all of the Romanovs, Julian included, were dead

Little did they know that the young prince was in fact alive and well in a secret settlement of elves and other inhumans who had felt the kindness of the Romanovs and would protect their own

Little Julian gained the nickname Jaskier and was raised fiercely in the name of his people

He was taught to fight in all matters of weaponry, the ways of the court and nobles, how to speak with a silver tongue and smile sharper than his throwing knives

Jaskier was taught how to be a warrior, but also how to be gentle, how to play a number of musical instruments, to weave flower crowns, and cook with little

Jaskier learned the ways of his powerful magic and how to control it, though it was something he often struggled with

He was raised knowing his name and his status, and members of the settlement who had known his family were all too willing to share tales of those fallen

Jaskier had lost a family, but managed to gain another

Eventually he was grown (as much as he would, the Romanovs had proved an ability to be rather immortal, or at the very least long lived) and Jaskier decided to set out into the world and explore it on his own, knowing the important of keeping his identity hidden

And so he left to Oxenfurt and became a traveling bard

Everything went to shit when Jaskier met Geralt in that tavern in Posada

He followed him around for twenty years like a loyal puppy, completely and utterly in love and knowing nothing would ever come of it

Geralt was unlike anyone Jaskier had ever met before, and the adventure that surrounded his life called to the bard like nothing else

Twenty years with Geralt and the witcher still thought him human, mortal and powerless and Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to admit to his lies (well not lies per say, but he was definitely guilty of allowing assumptions)

Jaskier loved the witcher like he had never loved anyone else, even when he abandoned him in favor of the purple eyed witch, he knew he could never tell him about his true status without scaring him off forever. Geralt hated nobles and all matter of royalty, human or not

And then the mountain happened

Jaskier decided to give Geralt his blessing, and so he left

The bard wandered the Continent on his own, dancing around the threats of oncoming war and trying his best to ignore the rumors whispering around him

About the White Wolf. The White Wolf, and the princess of Cintra, and a witch that traveled with them

He didn’t belong to any of that anymore

So Jaskier kept his head down, kept his throwing knives close, and made his way back north, towards the settlement where he grew up

The settlement had a magic barrier to conceal it from the view of unsuspecting humans, the only people that could raise it were those who possessed a powerful magic

He trudged to the entrance, exhausted and travel weary , lifting the spell with a tired wave of his hand

The familiar hustle and bustle of the settlement met his ears with a sigh of relief and he walked through the opening feeling at home for the first time since the mountain

Only to stop short

Because who was directly in front of him, in his fucking home mind you, but Geralt of Rivia himself, staring at him with a look of awfully concealed shock across his face

At his sides were Yennefer and Ciri, both of them looking at Jaskier with similar expressions

Well fuck him

Jaskier opened his mouth, preparing to give the most awkward hello ever seen on the Continent when Oscar, an older elf who had been one of his teachers growing up rushed over to sweep him up in a crushing hug

“Ah Jaskier, you’ve returned at last!” the man smiled without abandon, completely ignorant to the tension between the group. “I see you’ve encountered some of our guests, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerburg, and young Cirilla. We’ve offered them sanctuary from Nilfgaard for however long they need”

Jaskier loved the kindness of his settlement family, but fuck if it didn’t terribly inconvienence him at the worst of times

Oscar turned back towards Geralt and the others, “This is who I’ve been speaking about, may I introduce to you High Prince Julian Romanov, last of the Romanov family and descendent of the Winter Court.”

Geralt’s mouth opened and closed, if he was shocked before he was dumbfounded now “What?”

Jaskier coughed awkwardly, patting his mentor on the shoulder “We’ve actually met before Oscar. Though…. they didn’t exactly know that last part.”

“My apologies, Your Highness!” Oscar looked beside himself “I didn’t mean to overstep-”

“No it’s fine,” Jaskier interrupted, “I suppose it would have come out eventually anyways”

Oscar parted ways a few moments later, leaving only silence between them all

Yennefer was the one to break it. “Julian Romanov, alive after all this time. A great mystery solved.”

Jaskier scoffed. “I guess you could say that”

Geralt seemed to have finally found his words, “You never told me you were a Romanov”

Jaskier looked him straight in the eye. “You never asked. And besides the fact, I didn’t think Geralt of Rivia, Mr. ‘nobility is just a bunch of pompous idiots’ would be interested in me interrupting with ‘Hi, lost prince of a famously slaughtered family here. Also I’m not completely human and have magic!’. Didn’t think that would go over very well”.

Geralt took a moment to process Jaskier’s tirade. “I didn’t know you weren’t human”.

“It seems there’s a lot you don’t know about me. Good thing you’re stuck here for a while so you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out. If you’ll excuse me?”

Jaskier shouldered his way past the witcher because he was fucking tired and in desperate need of a hot meal and a bath. He could feel Geralt’s gaze on his back the entire way back to his tent. Figures he’d finally give him his undivided attention after he told Jaskier he wanted nothing to do with him.

Things weren’t perfect. There was still a mountain between them, words to be said, apologies to be made, explanations to be given, and feelings to unravel. But right now, as Jaskier slumped onto the soft furs of his bed and prepared to pass out for an undetermined amount of hours, he felt something that seemed like a lot like hope. And for now, that was enough.

Wow this turned out to be a lot longer than I intended. Thinking of maybe extending this into a fic, let me know what you think!

[what-the--curtains]

There Are No Wolves in the Desert

Part 2 - The Tell Tale Knife

(Oberyn Martell x f!reader)

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Summary: After the death of his paramour Oberyn seeks out a local mercenary known as the Shadow Hunter, but who he finds is more valuable than he could have imagined.

Authors notes: Thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs! I’ve loved Robb and Oberyn since I read the books like 10 years ago now (yes my parent gave me that book when I was like 13 😂) I’m so happy to finally write down whats been in my head for years! Thank you for letting me share it with you💕💕 as per usual let me know if youd like a tag (or untag)!

Tw: Alcohol, violence, threats of sexual assault, swearing, nudity (implied), mentions of sex.

Word count: 4.5 k

Tagged: @evyiione @ayamenimthiriel @xsadderdazeforeverx @agingerindenial (if i missed anyone please let me know im the worst for tagging!!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3 years later

The days passed slowly while you remained tucked away, out of sight from those seeking to do you harm. A generous payment kept you safe in the attic of a local blacksmith, the promise of more ensuring you wouldn't be sold out. Once the imminent threat of assasination was over you focused on staying alive, finding the dragon queen becoming a distant memory, one that would have to wait until a more opportune moment presented itself. You used the last of your funds to purchase a horse and sought out work where you could. For a while you served as a healer to those returning from the fighting pits and other skirmishes occurring between nearby cities, until a Lannister soldier showed up searching for you. After that you moved further out of town finding work at a tavern miles from the city walls catering to a variety of characters travelling from near and far.

The owners were good folk, a retired sculptor, her wife and two young children. You’d stopped in for a drink with plans on heading further south, but an incident changed your course. A man came in threatening the owners demanding a payout when you’d stepped in, the man thought it would be easy, and it was at least for you. You helped them bury the body and they’d asked you to stay and so you did; tending to bar, training the horses and offering protection when needed. In return they offered you a bed, hot meals and a small salary despite your insistence that room and board was more than enough. It was a quiet life, a simple life, but one you enjoyed greatly. The noise of war and murder a ditant cry. Only in your sleep were you reminded of the cruelty of the world. The restful days quickly turned to weeks and it wasn't long until a year had passed, as had the memories of who you were.

The rumour of your murder had spread slowly from king landing, uttered from between the poisonous lips of Cersei Lannister, a lie you prayed one day would come back to haunt her. The day the news reached the ears of your employers you knew it was time to leave, and you rode back through the golden gates of the city. You’d resold the horse to a palace guard whose wife worked with the royal stables, training them, breeding them, caring for them, a good place for a faithful friend to live out its days. Noticing the weapons on your back the guard offered you a fee to find and kill a man who had snuck into the palace and murdered three of his wife's favourite horses after their daughter had refused his hand in marriage. He was dead within the hour, and from there the word of your skill in both tracking and murder got around amougst the nobility, and you fell haphhazourdly into mercenary work. If there was one skill you could rely on, it was your ability to unabashedly kill and you quickly became one of Dornes finest assassins. You fell into the work, the ease at which you became accustomed to it frightened you at first, but you had been hardened by loss, and it wasn't as if you hadn’t killed before.

Any semblance of emotional morality long forgotten, unable, or not wanting to have it all come seeping back, fearful of what may surface as a result. Most of your money went to keeping you fed, well rested and off any enemy radars. After the first month, money became more lucrative and you had splashed out on new armoury and weapons, nothing flashy like some of the more ornate dornish assassins who made a show of their profession. They were harmless, though admittedly annoying and from what you heard, not nearly as impressive as they boasted. Your armour was simple, lightweight leather over loose, breathable cloth, and a dark cloak, Its hood heavy and kept drawn well up over your eyes obscuring your face from prying eyes at all times. A shadow on the wall. Your weapons were similar to your clothes, your short swords and longbow were well crafted and durable, no decoration but for a few carved vines wrapped around their ends. Your only remaining identifiers were your eyes, and the dagger belonging to your late husband which stayed with you at all times, always within reach. Any remaining money was hidden away about the city, a retirement fund if you will, assuming you lived that long.

There were bonuses beside finances in your line of work, your ability to disappear into a crowd kept you in touch with the rumour mill. Words and secrets would fall from drunken mouths carelessly. Most of it stank worse than the horse's field after rain, but there were some that rang true, and a few that even brought a rare smile to your face. A young woman had spoken loudly about Tywin Lannister's death and how he’d supposedly died on the privy, causing you to snort into your soup, a fitting end for a coward of a man.

A month later you heard that the prince of Dorne had gone to King's Landing to fight for Tyrion, where he supposedly defeated a man standing well over 12 feet tall. A tall tale of a tall man you think, knowing how royal always sought to increase the truth of their abilities. You had also heard the unfortunate news of Ellaria Sands poisoning , the venom not reaching her veins until the ship had sailed out, no remedy to be found on the vaste seascape. It was a shame, she and the Sand Snakes were skilled adversaries here and they had since scattered in search of answers and allies around the seven kingdoms, to help avenge their mother. The prince apparently had to be restrained to stop him from turning the ship around, that was a story you found more believable. From what you’d heard the prince may have many lovers but he would go to war for any of them. You’d never seen his face, except for on the back of coins or from a distance. If you had you may have noticed him enter into the tavern where you sat awaiting your payment from your most recent client.

Your eyes stay on the table, your hood pulled up well over your forehead giving you a frightening silhouette beneath the candlelight that was beginning to glow more prominently as the sun set. The young man who commissioned you entered, he stank of wine and privilege, but he was rich and the payment promised was well worth putting up with his unsavoury personality. His true odor protrudes through the thin veil of perfume attempting to mask his stench, alerting you to his presence well before he’d sat down. Your time alone had heightened your tracking skills, a side effect of living under the constant threat of being hunted. The wiry man sits down next to you, his thin fingers snapping under your eyes in an attempt to get your attention, you inhale deeply, drawing yourself back to your displeasing reality and forced social interactions.

“Where's the money?” you ask, knife whittling a notch out of the table's leg with Robbs dagger.

“Where the head?” he retorts, and you pull out a small sack, shoving it into his hand watching as he pulls at the drawstring, opening the velvet bag. He raises his eyebrows and pulls out the index finger you'd removed from the corpse.

“Head was…. indisposed. I hope this satisfies,” you murmur, this job had been messier than you intended. You typically weren't so reckless especially with a noble.

“ Very much so, ” he says taking it and turning it in his hands

“The money then,” you restate, tone flat.

“Well there's one more... proposition I had.” He states, hand resting down on your thigh.

“I'll take the money for this job then you can hand me the next target,” you respond, sighing heavily, used to people getting handsy with you.

“You can make extra on this job if you play your cards right,” he whispers, hand running up your thigh. The other reaches up to pull back on your hood within seconds your dagger had impaled his hand, pining it to the table. His wail of anguish causes the heads in the tavern to turn briefly towards the scene before returning to their lively chatter.

“You stupid bitch,” he spits making a grab for the knife but you reach forward pushing it further into the table leaning in towards him.

“The money, or I cut off your head and mount it on the wall of this tavern,” you say, louder than intended.

Oberyn watches from the bar in amusement , the last time he’d seen fire like that had come from Ellaria. He needed someone to help get his revenge, someone willing to murder a man in front of witnesses, his birds had been right, this mercenary was the one for the job.

You rip the knife from the man's hand as he throws you the coinpurse you were owed you reach for it as he stands.

“Bitch,” he spits, liquid hitting the side of your face as he pulls down your hood “you better watch you back mercenary, I'll be taking you from behind in no time.” He snarls, as you hurry to pull your cover back up.

“Clever,” you retort, wiping your face, shaking out the purse and counting your pay out. Empty threats. Or threats you didn’t care about, you could kill scum like that in your sleep, and you had. You mutter another curse under your breath at being exposed, the latest delay in dye shipments had allowed the roots of your white hair to protrude through, lucky everyone inside was too drunk to notice. The money from the job was enough to keep a roof over your head for the foreseeable future, maybe even enough for a bath, it was getting to be that time. You go to stand, you had an ‘appointment’ in town, one with a handsome payout. Before you can stand you see a pair of hands adorned in jewellery slip into your view a scent of sweet fruit and honey indicating a cleanliness and a high status, a very high status, your appointment could wait.

Obery was observant, his eyes had been glued to you even while conversing with the beautiful patrons of the bar, not wanting to lose you in the crowd. “The shadow tracker”. That’s what you had been dubbed by those residing in the city according to his sources, clients of yours pleased with your services, services he was in need of. It seems you may bear more than one secret identity, it may have been for the briefest second, but the colour of your hair stood out against the dark fabric you wore. It intrigued him, white hair was uncommon in those of your age, very rare. In fact he only knew of one person still alive with such a trait. The other, one whom he’d sent a wedding gift to years prior, was long dead, or so the Lannister would have him believe, and when has he ever trusted the word of child murderers. He may have come here in seek of a mercenary, but what he found may prove to be even more valuable to his cause.

“Payments 50 for a nobody, rate goes up with each class, royals are above my paygrade, and nobles will cost you at least 6 of those fancy rings on your fingers,” you list, taking note of the martell sigil embellished on one of the larger rings.

“How much would it be to convince a wolf to take down a Lion,” he queries, hunching his head down to try and catch a glimpse of the eyes under the hood. Your heart drops.

“Above the pay grade, couple down at the docks have a death wish, you might try your luck there,” you explain, deepening your voice slightly in an attempt to disguise yourself.

“And what would be your wish, if you could have it?” he queries, leaning back kicking his feet up onto the stool beside you. As he does the yellow of his robes come into your peripheral the suns intricately stitched on, shining against the murk of the tavern's tile floor.

“To be left alone,” you chide, this was someone well acquainted with the royals here, you didn't deal with royalty, more trouble than they're worth.

“What's that old saying? The lone wolf dies, or am I mistaken? ” he returns, chuckling slightly.

“I don’t know who you think I am but I assure you…” you say, eyes finally raising, only then realizing the prince of Dorne sat before you, at least based on his impression on one of the coins in your hand.

“Lady Stark, I was hoping we’d meet face to face,” he remarks, the long forgotten address catching you off guard causing your eyes to shoot back down.

“Lady Stark died, the Lannisters ground up her body and fed it to the king's direwolf before killing it, haven’t you heard?” you say sarcastically, pulling your knife out of the table, unsure if he’d recognized it.

“Propaganda, set to diminish the power of the north,” he says, watching the blade intently as it's pulled from the table.

“I do not know if Lady Stark is alive, but for a price I could find out, granted you tell me what you need her for,” you mutter.

“I did not come here in search of Lady Stark. I came seeking a mercenary, the so-called “shadow tracker” however, this is a most welcome surprise, as for why I need you, or her, the answer is revenge plain and simple.”

“Is that what they call me?” you remark “ So you seek out a mercenary only to find something better, something you can trade?” you pose shaking your head.

“No, I needed an assassin, but found something better. Something more lethal.” He pauses.

“Which is?” you prompt, hoping to end this conversation sooner rather than later.

“One they think is dead. Besides I figured Lady Stark would want the opportunity to take down the Lannisters.”

“I assume she would, though she may think the offer stands too good to be true,” you state, gathering up your payment and making your exit he follows suit, stopping briefly to gently nudge his hand under the chin of an attractive man standing near the door, no doubt planning on returning later.

“The desert is no place for a wolf,” he calls after you, a significant distance between the two of you now.

“I shall let you know if I see such a sight, my prince,” you shout, dramatically curtsying before turning on your heel and walking off. He smiles before re-entering the tavern.

A week later

You stroll through the dark alleys of the city, a few years ago you wouldn’t have dared ventured out so late. The woods were known to you, their dangers and sights predictable, but the city was uncharted territory. While a bear could be trusted to do as bears do, the movements of man were less predictable. Your work kept you attune to the veins of the city and the people that coursed through them. You knew where to go and where to avoid depending on the day. You knew the sounds, able to pick out when something was amiss and tonight something was. The usual scurry of the rats below or the call of the parrots from above were absent, someone had been through here and not long ago. Your hand dips into the folds of your cape and you throw your dagger catching a man in the neck. You lean over and remove it from his jugular, the blood flowing out from the wound. Before you can turn him over, something hits you knocking you forward onto your stomach. You’re lifted from the ground by the nape of your neck. Your hoods pulled down and your head pulled up to see the foul smelling client and two other assassins standing before you.

“Dirron, Brant, always a pleasure” you snarl

“No hard feelings Shadow, you’re taking out all the business” Brant responds.

“How much is he paying you? Not enough I bet he didn't pay me enough. I'll double it if you let me walk.” you plead, but they shake their heads.

“I paid you more than your worth,” he spits, gesturing to the man behind you and he lifts you up slamming you into a nearby wall pressing your face against the rough brick. You can taste the blood beginning to gather in your mouth. He releases you, handing you over to the unpleasant smelling man who brings the dagger you’d dropped into your view, pressing the steel against your cheek as he begins to speak.

“This dagger belonged to Robb Stark.”

“Did it? I stole it from a client months ago,” you say, elbowing him in the stomach causing him to drop the blade. You catch it, and drive it deep into his knee. He falls, and you unsheathe his sword and throw it catching Dirron in the chest. The large brute gets to you before your next move knocking you in the stomach and pinning you back up against the wall.

“Told you I'd have you from behind,” the client says, limping over to you and spitting on the side of your face. As the moisture hits your flesh a spear pierces through his chest , pinning him to a nearby crate as the remaining two men scatter. You push yourself up spinning to see the prince standing in the alley picking up your dagger.

“Of all the souvenirs to keep, this…” he starts, examining the blade before continuing “ is the most telling. Even with your distinct traits, the Young Wolf's knife is well known, especially by those who saw it made. Dornish steel,” he explains tossing it in the air catching it by the blade and handing it back to you by its handle.

“As I just finished explaining to your dear friend there, I stole that,” you lie, taking it from him.

“No you didn’t,” he says, eyes bright even in the dark, a familiar smirk on his lips, clearly bemused by your attempts at lying.

“Yes I did,” you retort, refusing to let up on your façade.

“Shall we debate it over a drink?” he asks, retrieving his spear from the client's body which falls to the ground with an unpleasant thunk.

“A prince slumming it with the poor?” you ask watching as he uses the dead man's silks to wipe his weapon before turning back to you.

“My enjoyment of life precludes class,” he says offering you his arm

“As you speak from your riches,” you point out, watching him run his tongue along his upper lip.

“We are not as antiquated in our ideologies here, class here is less pronounced” he assures you.

“Is it?” you argue, pushing down on his extended arm and he shrugs his shoulder in defeat, pride faltering only for a fragment of a second at the notion of being rejected. The streets are busy tonight, the warm weather bringing the people out en masse to enjoy the city's nightlife. He brings his hand up to usher you into a nearby tavern by the small of your back, but thinks twice and drops it, not wanting to lose it. As you enter he raises his hand and winks at the barkeep before following you towards the back near the window sill.

“What will it cost you?” you inquire as he sits down, watching over his shoulder as the person behind the bar pours out a decanter of wine.

“What?” he asks, the downturn of his mouth and creased forehead painting a picture of confusion.

“To let me leave here, to keep this a secret, the two men who escaped know who I am now. My time here is up.” you confess as the decanter is placed on the table the bartenders hands trailing across his shoulders causing him to smile fondly up at them.

“I do not wish you to be found. It would ruin the plans I have,” he says, slowly turning his attention back to you, offering you wine. You stare at the decanter, then to him before shaking your head causing him to chuckle

“What? Have I said something amusing? “ you question, almost annoyed.

“Untrusting,” he remarks, taking a sip of the liquid before offering it to you once again. You reach over the table grabbing the cup from his hand.

“I am untrusting because in my experience people cannot be trusted,” you explain taking a sip.

“You husband certainly lied about marrying the Frey girl,” he remarks, leaning back into his seat, arms spreading out across the chairs back.

“I’ve never been married,” you state, wanting nothing more than to punch the smug look off his face.”

“You're good,” he says, eyes giving you the once over.

“At what?”

“Lying, well perhaps not good per say but committed, i'll give you that, you fight in a similar manner.” he presses, hoping to get a rise out of you.

“So, you think I can’t fight,” you say, shaking your head with a laugh

“Your words,” he states.

“I did not come here to be insulted by the likes of you, prince or not,” you scold, sitting up.

“I didn't mean to offend,” he remarks, eyes watching your movements, evidently he’d touched a nerve.

“Didn’t you?” you query, tilting your head.

“No, truly it was not my intention, I merely believe upon improvement,” he explains.

“Hard to improve without practice, hard to practice on your own,” you state, moving to leave, the prince drawing too much attention than you wanted on you. You down the rest of your wine and utter a ‘thank you for the drink’ before bidding him a farewell and exiting the bar. You don't make it far, seemingly unable to shake him.

“Why are you here?” he asks.

“That’s privileged information,” you say, turning to face him walking backwards along the cobbled streets. His eyes fall to you before looking up to the heavens, the stars were bright tonight illuminating his features. The rumours of him held true in one area undoubtedly, he was handsome.

“Come back to the palace with me.” He says, eyes still gazing up at the sky.

“I have no intention of divulging in your pleasure my prince, my heart belongs to another, I swore I wouldn’t stray from him even in death,” you reply, turning back to walk forward spitting blood out onto the street, sure one of your teeth must have been knocked out in the earlier fight.

“While I disagree with more than one of those statements I did not mean to imply, though I would be remiss to say it wouldn’t be of great honour. I heard the Young Wolf betrayed an entire kingdom for you.” he says eyes once again on you, trying to catch a glimpse of your features obscured by the hood.

“Are you suggesting I got my husband killed?” you muse, hearing him tut in disagreement

“You’re dirty, you’re tired, you’re injured and at risk of murder, the palace offers you a safe place to recuperate.”

“And what do you expect in return?” you ask.

“I simply wish to offer you a proposition once you are rested, if you decline, you are free to leave. I will ensure you are transported to a safe location where no one knows you.”

Perhaps it was the itching of your skin, or the way the dye was clinging your out of control hair or maybe it was being allowed to be who you once were, but you agree.

“This is Shana she will help you, unless you prefer a male companion, though I would gladly offer my services” he says, gesturing to an older woman of great beauty.

“I can bath myself, thank you though,” you say, turning and nodding to the woman who bows her head and exits the bathhouse.

“Whatever you wish, I'll have her bring you clothes while we clean yours... if we can clean yours” he muses, the remark cracking a smile in your icy demeanour. He leaves and you undress placing your clothes outside the door as requested. Your bare feet feel refreshed against the cool orange tiles of the bath house, the area evidently meant for the use of many people. Multicoloured tulip petals float atop the water filling your nostril with an aroma unlike one you’d ever known. The steam from the water rises in the cool air of the night and you dip your toe in water proceeding to the steps.

You stride into the water allowing your lower half to adjust to the heat before fully sinking in to cover your shoulder. Immediately the dye in your hair begins to leak into the water blending together with the built up mud and blood that has been stuck to you since your last clean. You scrub your skin until the scars scattered across your body are once again visible in the moonlight. Your hand pauses over the wound above your shoulder, memories of Robb flooding back in, as you assume your true identity for the first time in years.

You dunk your head under the water, scrubbing to remove grime from your face and to work out the last of the dye until it's all gone, your hair returned to its original state. You stay in the water for a while enjoying the heat, but sitting in your own filth is no longer a luxury and you stand up and dry yourself off. Pulling on a robe hung up for you as if they knew you’d be there that night. The cool air hits you as you exit, a welcome relief compared to the heavy heat carried around while wearing your armour. One of the palace guards leads you to your bed chamber, the bed is large and the room even larger. Tiles from floor to ceiling apart from the windows which opened up to the balcony allowing the breeze in at night. You step out onto it, hand trailing through the flowers growing along the bannisters. You thank the guard and he closes the large wooden doors leaving you to change into an orange gown true to the style in Dorne. The thin material leaves little to the imagination, but it would prove good for sleeping though not much else. You turn your head to the room's table where clothes better suited for your line of work sit. Your weapons had been cleaned and lined up across the corner of the room, your dagger shined and stabbed into the wood, holding a note in place.

“Dramatic,” you chuckle, pulling out the knife retrieving the note and opening it ‘winter is coming’ you recognize the handwriting immediately, it had been years but you'd never forgotten the letter you'd received the day at the docks. Perhaps the prince could be trusted after all. You hesitate before folding the note up and placing it back down on the table, walking over to the large bed and falling asleep with the knife tucked securely under your pillow, just in case.

[raleighcarrera]

what we do

the royal masquerade | kayden vescovi x mc (juliet rosario)

queen juliet rosario and former crown shield kayden vescovi meet up somewhere no one knows who either of them are. for @trmaw​ ❤️

~2.2k words | T

the sun was high in the sky when juliet stepped out of her carriage, though the light fabric of the casual dress she was wearing helped keep her cool as her feet hit the pavement.

there was no one with her to aid with her skirt as she moved about, no guards or security tending to the horses in an attempt to act casual while they continued to observe her.

it was just her and the driver, out in town, but soon enough, there’d be someone else meeting them, too.

soon enough she’d see kayden again.

they’d parked on the outskirts of a market, and as she made her way through the stalls no one spared her a glance -- there wasn’t a single flicker of recognition in any passing townsperson’s gaze for the queen of cordonia. 

that made the long journey she’d endured worth it all on its own.

wandering deeper into the market, she allowed herself to be swallowed up by the crowd, reveling in the simple freedom of walking around unattended, something she was never permitted to do at home.

life had become almost unbearably structured, as of late. she hardly had a moment to herself to breathe, let alone an entire afternoon to disappear. so she planned on taking advantage of every last second she’d have masquerading as a commoner, and that started with exploring the wares around her while she waited for kayden.

“miss?” her pulse stuttered as a vendor called out to her, certain she’d been caught. juliet turned slowly and relaxed as she saw it was only a young man at a flower stall, surrounded by dozens of brilliant blooms. he waved her over, and she went to him with a smile, happy to give him a sale.

but when she stopped in front of the stall, he didn’t try to sell her on any of the bouquets he had available. instead, he presented her with one wrapped set of roses and daisies and the deepest grin she’d seen in a long time. “a gentleman was here earlier,” the vendor explained, as she carefully took the flowers from his hands, “he said to give these to the most beautiful woman at the market, and that i’d know when she arrived.”

juliet scoffed, staring down at the bouquet she was holding in disbelief. she could feel her face grow hot as she looked up to glance around the market.

kayden was already here, then. somewhere.

“thank you,” she said, trying not to sound too flustered as she dipped her head to breathe in the sweet scent of the flowers. “they’re gorgeous, but are you sure they’re for me?”

“quite sure.” juliet stilled, realizing the boy at the stall’s mouth hadn’t moved. no, the deep voice who’d said the words was one she’d recognize anytime, anywhere. 

she turned slowly and met kayden’s eyes, feeling her rapidly beating heart jerk to an abrupt stop. 

kayden smiled softly at her as their eyes locked. “i knew he wouldn’t fail me,” he said, stepping closer. “it’s hardly a competition.”

the bustle of the market around them faded into the background as she moved forward, too, to meet kayden, shifting the flowers she was holding into one arm so her free hand could reach for his. “it’s good to see you,” juliet said quietly, biting back a sigh as kayden’s fingers twined with hers, the simple and innocent brush of skin on skin immensely comforting. “thank you for the gift.”

kayden lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the ridge of her fingers before gently leading her away from the flower stall. “it was nothing,” he said, “i’m glad it worked out.”

there was a pause as they paced back towards the outskirts of the town square. she knew they were both thinking the same thing -- how impossible it’d be for kayden to do anything as lovely for her, back home. how relegated he’d been to a private life, how they were barely even able to look at each other, anymore.

juliet shook her head, determined to cast the dark thoughts from her mind. this was not the time nor the place for such a discussion. their outings were few and far between; there should be nothing to taint them.

they reached a stone fountain out of view from most of the market. she glanced up and saw that the driver who’d accompanied her for security was nearby but doing his best to give her privacy, and relaxed as they both sat on the ledge. kayden moved to take the flowers from her and set them aside, then grasped her other hand, too. 

“it is a gift, to see you,” he murmured, seeming to realize he’d failed to say as much, earlier. “i’ve missed you terribly since we were last together.”

it had been quite some time. fabian had left the kingdom for foreign relations with a neighboring province and she’d been able to spend the night at hunter’s without drawing raised eyebrows. fortunately, hunter had remained a good and loyal friend in addition to his standing as her policy advisor, allowing she and kayden to meet in secret and revel in the luxury of privacy.

but that was nearly an entire month ago. her heart ached as she studied the weary lines of kayden’s face, his expression set with longing. how unfair, that a soul as vibrant as his should be forced to wait around for the half-romance she could afford him.

it seemed even being queen could not solve all injustices in the world.

“i’ve missed you far more than you know,” she agreed, her voice tight with emotion. juliet blinked, leaving her eyes shut momentarily to try to dispel some of the thick sadness shrouding her voice. the last thing they needed now was for kayden to be stuck comforting her on their one afternoon alone. 

but when she fluttered her lashes back open she saw him still smiling patiently, fondness in his eyes, and that just made her heart ache worse. 

“tell me you’ve been well,” he prompted, drawing a chuckle from her despite herself. only kayden could worry about whether she was eating or sleeping enough in the palace.

“as well as expected, without you.” his hands squeezed hers tightly, the rough pad of his calloused thumb dragging across the backs of her knuckles. part of him seemed almost pleased to hear she was unwell without him, though she knew she could hardly blame him for that. in her more selfish moments, she felt the same way. “and yourself?”

“the same,” kayden said quietly. though his lips were only slightly turned up at the corners, she could read the smile in his eyes perfectly, and marveled at how intuitive his once-stoic face now felt to her. after so long spent studying kayden, it seemed she could read him now with just a glance. so there was no missing the slight nervousness on his expression when he said, “i have some news.”

“oh?” juliet tried to keep her voice light even as her mind raced with possibilities. she couldn’t help but to assume the worst -- that kayden was leaving cordonia, that he was no longer interested in a secret relationship, that he was sick...

seemingly sensing her hesitation, kayden squeezed her hand comfortingly. “hunter is reinstating me as his head of security.”

she blinked. “he is?”

kayden’s lips spread into a real smile, then. he nodded. “he feels the decision will be well supported after some of the recent attention.”

hunter was probably right. over the last year, kayden had been working tirelessly with the local orphanage, relocating many of the children and providing resources for the rest. he’d spent hours doing work her administration barely took an interest in, despite her pushing. he’d very nearly singlehandedly led the effort to fix the problems from the inside out.

juliet was quiet momentarily as her head spun with the news. kayden’s return to his former role meant he’d be around more, certainly, and in an approved context. it would no longer seem suspicious to be seen with him; there would be a reason for him to be at the palace.

but it also meant he’d return, more prominently, to the public eye. the people would have a chance to get used to him again, to come around after they’d once turned their backs.

and that opened up a variety of possibilities.

she had to actively work not to get carried away by the news. she knew she couldn’t allow herself to be too excited just yet; possibilities always came with challenges and this new development was sure to bring problems along for the ride, too.

but the spark of hope she felt was thrilling regardless. her own face split with a grin, and juliet moved to clasp both of kayden’s hands together in hers. “he’s absolutely right. that’s wonderful news. for both of us, of course, but... for you especially. i can’t think of anyone more deserving.”

her nagging guilt flared up again. for so long, she’d stewed over the fact that she was in the palace while kayden faced derision, when all he’d ever done was protect her in an effort to help cordonia. the public that despised him had no idea how much he’d sacrificed for their benefit, so that she could lead them to a brighter future. 

thoughts of what more she could do to help him kept her up at night. she’d spent many hours planning ways to both steal time with kayden and work to help him without drawing attention, and finally felt a small step towards justice had been taken.

“it will be nice to get back to what i am familiar with,” kayden said humbly, but the bashful look on his face said he was pleased by her recognition. “and of course there’s the added benefit of getting to spend more time with you.”

one of his hands lifted to gently brush a lock of hair off her forehead. he leaned in closer, his eyes intense. “just being able to see you will put my heart at ease, juliet. finally i’ll have a break from wondering about you with my every thought.”

without pausing to spare a glance around the square, she leaned in and kissed him, pressing in close. the overwhelming affection within her swelled and burst as the familiar scrape of kayden’s stubble scratched her skin, the passion in his kiss so comforting she let herself drown in it greedily.

his hands tangled in her hair, pulling the careful curls out of shape. carelessly, juliet wound her arms around him, too, drawing closer and closer until there was nowhere else to go. she only realized she’d groaned into his mouth when kayden’s teeth caught her bottom lip in answer, clutching her body tighter to his.

she was suddenly desperate to be somewhere more private, and as kayden made it his mission to steal every last breath from her lungs she wondered if it would be inappropriate to drag him back to the carriage she’d taken into town so they could be alone. but her decision was made for her as kayden pulled back, eyes as bright as the smile that was still fixed on his face.

“i came here to hear your voice,” he said, laughing shortly, “i shouldn’t waste all our time together this way.”

“oh, but it’s very welcome,” juliet assured him with a grin, catching his mouth in one last soft kiss before drawing back with a content sigh. “hardly a waste at all. i know what you mean, though.” many of her dreams at the palace simply revolved around just spending time with kayden as they used to. who knew how long it would be before they would have some time alone together again?

she knew it would be slow going -- that it would take time for the public to get used to kayden again, that it might never be possible for her to establish what she had always wanted, from the very moment she made her first bid at queen...

...but it was hard to care when the here and now was so alluring, the man seated before her appearing so effortlessly as everything she’d ever wanted.

her teeth bit at her sore bottom lip as she observed kayden from beneath her lashes. he was looking back at her fondly, in a way that made her pulse gallop. “well, we do have the whole day,” she mused, humming as he took her hands gently in his again.

the sunny smile he was sporting boosted her own mood significantly. “let’s make the most of it, then,” kayden suggested, standing to pull her up, too.

juliet’s gaze swept the town square and the market beyond it, alive with food and strangers and opportunity, a rare luxury for two people who lived with secrets such as they did.

there was much to take advantage of, and the sun was high in the sky. she couldn’t think of a more advantageous situation to be in.

“let’s,” she agreed, gathering herself and her flowers to follow kayden back to life beyond their hiding place, her hope renewed. 

[harcourtholmesii]

Letters of Thanks

Fandoms: MCU / Avengers

Pairings: Slight / Referenced Thor X Bruce

Warnings: - References to Violence

Words: 2954

Please don’t expect this to be perfect writing. I tried, but as much as I do love the MCU, I am not great at writing their characters.

Enjoy!

Fan mail.

 Care packages.

 Letters of gratitude.

 The penthouse floors of Stark Tower were overrun with them. After the Battle for New York, everyone and their uncle seemed keen to say their piece and write something special to the Avengers.

 Since Bruce, Thor and Steve had nowhere else to go, the general populace had come to the correct conclusion that they could send their letters to Tony Stark’s letterbox. Since his address was public knowledge and since the defeat of the Chitauri, his home had been flooded with paper and cardboard boxes.

 Sorting through it all had been a hassle.

 With Thor off-world, the secret agents off on their respective missions and Rogers having left for his tour of America, it was left up to Tony and Bruce to sort through it all. It was a momentous task, but it was a welcome distraction.

 Over time, the piles continued to grow.

 Seven piles in total.

 Tony had, by far, the largest amount of letters written to him. They created an unsteady mountain range across his personal study, threatening to topple and fall if it weren’t for Tony’s effort to read them all.

 As quickly as they grew, they shrank. Tony read through his mail quickly and with fervour. Some nights, Bruce, Pepper and Happy had been unable to convince him to sleep. Some nights, he would spend researching the person behind the letter, and send care packages of his own to those who had written him.

 Unlike the majority of the other Avengers, Tony managed himself well. Even though most of it was kind or complimentary, there were those that expressed their disdain or their upset. When it got particularly bad, Bruce could see how it all weighed down on the man. He would wave away Pepper’s worry, and Bruce’s own concerns, with his usual snarky attitude, but it was obvious to all of them that he was most affected by those he couldn’t help.

 Steve’s pile was mostly complimentary. The younger authors tended to keep their letters short, with questions about him and where he had been. How was he alive after so long? Did he know about the moon landing? Had he seen Blade Runner? Most of the letters went from serious to curious in the span of a paragraph, but Steve had been no less flattered.

 Some letters were from older veterans or soldiers who cited him as their inspiration for joining the military. There were those that mentioned how their parents or grandparents had met him those seventy years ago, and how it was a piece of family history they loved to share.

 Steve handled them well for the most part, but he rarely went out of his way to answer them all. With his new career path at SHIELD, Steve only narrowed down his responses to those he felt were ‘genuine’. Specifically, those that asked less questions about what he did or did not know about the future, and those that seemed to take the Battle for New York as a serious, potential threat.

 Much like Tony, Thor’s pile was one of the larger ones, and it grew at a rapid pace from the start. A lot of the mail he received were care packages, cardboard boxes filled with everything from chocolates to alcohol, and other tokens of affection. Thor had been astounded when he first returned to Earth; his room, as large and royal as Tony could make it, housed a mountain of parcels and parchment awaiting his notice.

 He had spent overnight opening as many as possible and reading as much as he could. Some of the language and plenty of the references used caused him a great deal of confusion, and he would seek out Bruce for help. Too many of the letters, though very sweet and thankful, contained phone numbers or an Instagram link. Bruce had caught on quickly; a good portion of these were men, women and others of all types, were hopeless romantics, seeking the God of Thunder’s attention.

 No matter the intention or the person who had written the letter, Thor tasked himself with responding to each and every one. However, at the rate the pile was growing, and with Thor’s admittance that he wasn’t much a scholar, Bruce and Tony were roped into helping him in his quest. He wrote back, and had Tony show him how Facebook, Twitter and Instagram worked so he could publish quick responses online.

 Bruce helped him with those that didn’t leave behind online addresses or phone numbers, and wrote back what Thor asked him to write. Though, before each parchment was shipped off, Thor would be sure to sign it himself.

 The fourth and fifth piles were small by comparison; the both of them for Clint and Natasha. Without any idea where else to send them, the majority of these letters were quick and to the point. Short and simple. The writers would express their gratitude, perhaps explain their reasons for sending the letter, and then end the short paragraph.

 To Clint and Natasha, these were perfect. They couldn’t easily respond to them, as much as they wished to, so they kept them close instead. Natasha filed hers away in her room at Stark Tower, and Clint had sent his away. He didn’t mention where, just that they would be safe.

 It was fair that the master assassin wanted to keep it secret.

 Then, there was the general pile for all of the Avengers team. Most of these were sent by families and young children, from crayon sketches to some baked goods. The team, especially Thor and Clint were ecstatic with these ones in particular.

 They came together to read them, as difficult as that was. They would read out a single letter to the rest; they might have a slight chuckle and smiles would light up all their faces as they heard the praise. None of the mail addressed to the Avengers was negative, as it seemed any criticism was left to the specific ‘hero’.

 The smallest pile by far, belonged to Bruce Banner. Only a few letters had been delivered that were addressed specifically to him, and unlike the others, Bruce had avoided opening them. When Natasha asked him about his letters, he would say he would ‘get around to it’, and she would leave it alone for a while, disbelieving his statement.

 Thor asked him about it the most, always curious and always keen to hear what people had to say about the ‘second strongest’ Avenger. Bruce would just smile, already a little bashful under the other’s excitable gaze and warm touches.

 ‘I haven’t read them yet.’

 ‘You should!’ Large hands would take hold of Bruce’s own and he would be spun around so the other could look at him face-to-face. ‘There is much they have to say to you, and I am sure much of it is kind.’

 Bruce would just shrug his words away, very aware that the other would only try to see the best in him. He hadn’t been around when Hulk had first destroyed New York, and what the God had witnessed on the helicarrier had been next to nothing in the amount of damage the Hulk had caused. They had been lucky.

 Unlike the rest, Tony, though encouraging, didn’t pressure him to read the letters. He knew of Bruce’s fear, and though he found a way to bring it up subtly in conversation, he never demanded the meek scientist open his mail.

 Finally, they came up with an idea.

 ‘Big mean and green.’ Where Bruce had been hovering over the coffee pot, he clicked his jaw in annoyance, and turned his tired eyes over to the lounge. His teammates were all sat on the half-circle sofa, with a small pile of recognisable letters in the middle. He swallowed thickly around the nervous lump in his throat, and tried to laugh away his worry.

 ‘What is this? An intervention?’

 ‘Sort of.’ Clint said, offering him a polite smile. It seemed Clint and Steve, in particular, were both nervous about this. Then why participate?

 ‘We just wanna help try and release some tension here.’ Tony stated, gesturing to the pile. ‘It is no surprise to us, Bruce, you can’t stand to look at this. But you don’t have the heart to throw it all away.’

 Bruce’s eyes fell to the coffee he now nursed in his hands.

 ‘We don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’ Steve chimed in. ‘But… Well, we don’t want you to run yourself into the ground because you’re scared of what people have to say.’

 ‘I’m not scared. I just know what I would see, and I do not need more confirmation that I am a monster.’

 ‘No!’ Thor’s voice bellowed, and he was standing in an instant. He was by Bruce’s side in a mere moment and gently nudging him (as gentle as Thor could manage) towards the lounge. ‘You do not understand, Banner! We believe that these are all letters of gratitude towards you, and rather than you think the worst, we want to disprove your claim.’

 ‘Yes… Well…’ Bruce’s eyes landed on the pile in front of him. He didn’t find SHIELD as frightening as he had expected when he had first met Natasha. He had not been as overcome with fear when he had first seen the Chitauri. But this small, seemingly trivial pile of notes… The words of an everyday person that he had hurt scared him more than anything.

 ‘If you don’t mind it, we came up with a simple system. Nothing too bad, we hope, but just so we might ease your fears a little.’ Tony said, reaching and digging around in the pile for a moment.

 After a bit of shuffling about, he pulled out a small, pastel pink card, showing it to Bruce.

 ‘We just want you to know that you don’t have to be worried about this. We came up with this plan-’

 ‘Tony came up with a plan.’ Natasha interrupted.

 ‘- That we will each read out one letter to you. One random letter. And we’ll all be here in case you want to take a break or if you need to just…’

 ‘Talk.’ Steve finished.

 And just like that, Clint, Steve, Natasha and Thor reached into the pile.

 Clint pulled one, exceptionally thick, envelope from the top; perfectly pristine, well-kept, with ‘Bruce Banner’ written in fine, royal blue cursive.

 Natasha dug her hand deep into the pile until she pulled her hand away with a large, but thin, green folder. On the front, it read Bruce’s name in a collage of cut-out, magazine letters.

 Steve removed a small parcel from the pile, wrapped in dirty brown paper with a green ribbon around it. There was the sound of something gently rattling against the inside as Steve moved.

 Thor pulled one letter from the pile which had a large, child’s drawing on the back. Evidently, it was of a large, green figure holding what looked like a yellow car in his hands and roaring. Bruce did not look too keen.

 It was Clint that opened his letter first and had begun to read.

 “Dear Doctor Banner,

 You may not recall me well, but my name is Lucille Davidson. We studied together for a period in college, and I would like to consider us friends, or at the very least, acquaintances.

 You’re work in nuclear physics is astounding, and I have, for years now, have wanted to address your papers and reports of your studies.  I have never had the chance, as I had thought you dead after your disappearance.

 Imagine my surprise and delight when I saw you on the news. Well, not you exactly, but to then have it confirmed to be you in the interview following the events, I was not only relieved but I was over the moon. Hearing you would be staying with Mister Stark for the time being, I wrote to you immediately, and I do hope this has found its way.

 I wanted to just say how I am not only inspired by your work, but I wish that we could sit together for coffee and go over our theories on anti-electron collisions…”

 By this point, Clint started to look a little lost. He raised his eyes from the paper, with an apologetic expression and a half smile.

 ‘Sorry, but I can’t understand this kind of science jargon. I am not an expert on thermonuclear… anything… Whatever this person is attempting to say, it seems…’ He turned the paper over, and glanced at the other papers. ‘Yeah… They appear to have sent you a full thesis on whatever this is…’

 He passed it across to Bruce, who seemed shocked still. The coffee cup was retrieved from his hands by Tony, in case he should drop it, and placed on the coffee table. Bruce took the papers with shaking hands and read over that first part again and again, almost in disbelief. The worry in his face had lessened slightly, as he placed the essay down and looked up when Steve cleared his throat.

 ‘There isn’t, uh… There’s only a small card here, apart from the parcel. And it reads ‘to Bruce Banner and to Hulk. Thank you!” He passed the card and parcel over, so Bruce could open it.

 He did so slowly, hesitantly, with the movements of a man disarming a bomb. Once the ribbon was undone and the tape removed, the brown paper fell apart in his hands, revealing a plastic container. Through the clear plastic there was a small pile of about eight cookies, all of them, though a little smudged, decorated to look like the Hulk’s face.

 There was a chortle from Tony, and a guffaw from Thor as the God landed a hard smack to Bruce’s back. It hurt, but Bruce just smiled down at the strange but lovely gift. There was no return address or signature, which seemed a little disappointing.

 “To Mister Banner.” Tony started, a sly, cattish grin on his face. Bruce could already feel his own face going red. He raised his hands to his face in a terrible attempt to hide his embarrassment as Tony continued to read with some level of theatrical exaggeration.

 “I will admit, I’m a little embarrassed to write this, but I just needed to get my feelings down onto paper. I was working during the Battle for New York and we met very briefly. Well, you were Hulk at the time, but still… You saved my life. I was about to be killed by one of those weird, alien creatures when you crushed them beneath your fists. And I couldn’t help but salivate…” There was a muttered, embarrassed groan from Bruce as he snatched the letter out of Tony’s hand. The billionaire and the others shared a laugh as Bruce continued to read the letter.

 Indeed, it was just a little scandalous, and as flattering as it was… He quietly tucked it away in his pants pocket, not willing to discuss it at this time. That was fair, and none of the other’s held that against him.

 Natasha opened her own folder, her face brighter than Bruce had ever seen it. She showed it off like she was doing a presentation, opening the folder wide and reading it out. There were only two pages to it, the first with an image of a small building with a mural on one of its walls.

 The mural showcased the Hulk with his hands raised as if holding up the roof of the building. Beneath him, as if a shadow that stood before him, was a silhouette of Bruce doing the same pose. Beneath it, written in bright lettering with all kinds of little pictures, was the message:

 ‘To Doctor Banner and the Hulk, the heroes that saved our daycare and the children therein.’ The second page was a collage of parents and staff thanking him and the Hulk alike, with little signatures and drawings from the children.

 Natasha passed it over to him, and Bruce clutched it close, feeling himself near brought to tears.

 Thor didn’t read out the letter he had plucked out of the pile, but passed it to Bruce all the same. It was difficult to read, as it was a scribble of a child’s writing. Only the address was clearly stamped out, presumably by a parent.

 ‘Thank you Mister Hulk. You saved mommy and daddy from the monsters. I want to be a hero like you when I’m grown up. Could you teach me to be strong like you? From Markus’

 Turning the paper over to look over the image again, Bruce could now make out the scratchy faces of two people in the yellow car. At first, he thought they were screaming, but when he was able to make out the black line of a speech bubble amongst the dark blue crayon, he could read they were yelling ‘YAY!’

 ‘How cute.’ Natasha hummed.

 ‘That ought to go onto the fridge.’ Tony agreed.

 Bruce shifted in his seat, wiping beneath his glasses with his sleeve. A hand on his shoulder, warm and comforting, brought his eyes up to look at the Thor.

 ‘Would Banner like some time alone? To read and look through his gifts?’

 Despite what he had read, Bruce did not ask them to leave. In fact, he snuggled deeper into the lounge as he plucked one letter from the pile. The others didn’t mind being asked to stay. In fact, to them, it was a relief to see the doctor express anything other than worry or discomfort, and a joy to watch his face break into a smile.

[wafflesandkruge]

when you love someone

The Grand Palace was quiet at this hour with nearly everyone asleep, save for the two royals themselves. Although he’d gone to bed at his usual time, sleep had eluded him and he’d tossed and turned until he simply gave up. He’d slipped into the kitchens the same way he had when he was a boy, but instead of desserts, he found himself looking for something a bit stronger. But to his surprise, he’d found his soon-to-be wife already there, her personality more bracing than any liquor he’d ever tasted.

for @trackermal​​: “ehri and nik and ‘how come she loves you?’”

Ehri looked at Nikolai over her glass of brandy with obvious distaste. He couldn’t help but think she had spent a little too much time with Zoya- they had the same unimpressed expression seemingly reserved just for him, like he was a cheap street magician who kept bumbling his tricks. Which was rude, because he was perfectly capable of juggling.

“Should a wife really be looking at her husband like that?” He attempted to reach for his glass, then remembered Ehri had stolen it. She’d developed a taste for his favorite drink in her few weeks in Os Alta. With a sigh, he fetched another glass from the cabinet and poured another one for himself.

The Grand Palace was quiet at this hour with nearly everyone asleep, save for the two royals themselves. Although he’d gone to bed at his usual time, sleep had eluded him and he’d tossed and turned until he simply gave up. He’d slipped into the kitchens the same way he had when he was a boy, but instead of desserts, he found himself looking for something a bit stronger. But to his surprise, he’d found his soon-to-be wife already there, her personality more bracing than any liquor he’d ever tasted.

Ehri scowled. “Like what?”

“Like I just killed your childhood pet in front of you.”

“My sister did that once,” she mused.

“Makhi?”

“Correct.”

“Hmm. Elder siblings really are the worst, aren’t they?”

“I’ll drink to that,” she muttered as she clinked her glass to his. A bit of amber liquid sloshed over the side and onto the table, but she didn’t seem to notice as she brought the glass to her lips again. Nikolai wondered just how much she’d had before he’d walked in. When he’d entered the room, he’d found her sitting at a table under a window, the moonlight bathing her in a silver glow as she’d sipped at rice wine and stared out at the city with a melancholic expression. In her pale dress, she might as well have been a statue carved by a skillful hand.

He often wondered if he’d ever be able to love her the way a husband loved a wife. Attempted murder aside, he found he was quite fond of her; her sharp wit and sharper tongue were always worthwhile sparring partners and she was undeniably pretty in the unassuming manner of a spring blossom. But the fondness he had for Ehri never grew into anything more than the affection he'd feel for a close friend, not in the way it did with...her.

He cleared his throat loudly, suddenly not wanting to dwell on those thoughts. Ehri cut him a baleful glance.

“Yes, dearest husband?”

“I was wondering, sweetest wife, the reason for your late night visit. I’m assuming you weren’t here for the excellent view?”

Ehri scoffed and reached for the bottle again. “The view here is nothing in comparison to Ahmrat Jen. I am marrying into a backwater village.”

Nikolai clutched at his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me.”

“And I’ll do it again.”

He let her threat of regicide slide and sipped at his glass. As he’d hoped, she sighed and began to speak to fill the silence.

“I talked to Mayu today.”

Nikolai raised an eyebrow. The Tavgharad girl had been confined to a separate wing of the palace ever since she’d recovered from her self-inflicted wound. To his knowledge, there had been no attempt at contact from either of them. His puzzled thoughts must have shown on his face, because Ehri snorted and shook her head.

“It was that Shu guard of yours. Tolya. He snuck me into the east wing for half an hour.”

A bolt of panic went through him. Tolya? If his most trusted guard was helping plot against him, why would she reveal that? His grip on his glass tightened until his knuckles were white. But before his thoughts could spiral further, she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t look like that, you’ll get wrinkles. And what would you be without your good looks? He was within earshot the entire time to make sure we weren’t plotting anything. Ask him yourself.”

“But...” he started, his mind still struggling to grasp the magnitude of his friend’s betrayal. “Why would he help you?”

“Because he’s an incurable romantic,” she replied, her gaze shifting away from his face. Her hands shook as she raised her glass again and downed it in one go. He waited for her to say more, to finish her thought, but her lips were pressed into a thin line as she looked at anything but him.

It hit him a moment later.

“Oh.” He suddenly felt like the world’s biggest fool.

“Took you long enough. And I thought they said you were clever.” Her words were sharp, but there was visible relief on her face as she finally set her glass aside. He supposed he ought to have been touched she trusted him enough to let him in on so big of a secret. Though he supposed he didn’t have much to gain from it, not when he was the one who needed the wedding to happen.

“So how long...” his voice trailed off.

“Since we were seventeen. She’d just been assigned to my guard, and she was the only girl my age in the palace who wasn’t scared to talk to me.” She traced the grain of the wooden table with a finger, seemingly lost in her memories. “She kissed me first, actually. Stupid on her part, when she knew I could have had her executed for even touching me. But it all worked out. Until it fell apart again, I suppose.”

“What happened?”

“She said she wouldn’t be staying. That she’d go back to Shu Han the first chance she got because she couldn’t see me wed to another.” Ehri gave a brittle laugh. “Her jealousy is stronger than her oath of loyalty, I suppose.”

Nikolai averted his gaze. He had the distinct feeling Ehri wouldn’t appreciate it if he saw her cry. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. Well, actually,” she conceded, sniffling a little, “it is. But it’s not your fault we were born as two people who couldn’t be together in this life.”

He suddenly found his glass terribly interesting. He wasn’t sure if she’d meant to hint at his own personal dilemmas, but their conversation was getting uncomfortably close to turning on him. And of course, she decided to pounce on that.

“You and the general.” It wasn’t a question, or even speculation, but a statement. Nikolai tried not to wince.

“What about General Nazyalensky and I?”

“You care for each other.” Her golden eyes were bright with unshed tears, but they were still narrowed in triumph. Saints, did everything have to be a fight with her? Nikolai ran a hand through his hair and tried to keep his knee from bouncing.

“Of course we care for each other,” he said with a forced laugh, “As I’m sure you know, four years ago-”

“That’s not what I mean,” she interrupted. She leaned in closer until he could smell her floral perfume. He tried not to lean back. That would have been a loss for him. “The two of you are like Mayu and I. Zhiji. When they know you better than you know yourself.”

He thought about denying it, as he’d always done. But perhaps it was the drink, or the lack of sleep, or the company, that he gave a tired nod. It wasn’t his best decision, but it felt fair. Surprisingly, Ehri didn’t gloat. Instead, she looked even gloomier if possible. She slumped back into her chair.

“Why hasn’t she left, then? Will she still be seeing you behind closed doors even after we are wed? How can she still love you?”

How indeed. Nikolai reached for the bottle again, only to find it empty. They were both going to regret this the next morning. He sighed and folded his hands together so they would stop trembling.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her. If she tells me she wants to leave tomorrow, I wouldn’t stop her.”

Ehri’s brows furrowed. “You wouldn’t fight to keep her here?”

“No. Sometimes, love is about letting go.” And that was what all love was in the end, wasn’t it? The loss of it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Saints, he needed another drink. He pushed himself up from the table and started digging through the cabinets again.

She was silent as she turned that over in her head. Nikolai found a half-full bottle of kvas, probably hidden away by a kitchen boy to show off to his friends later. Not his favorite, but it’d have to do. He’d replace it with a nicer bottle the next day. He brought it back to the table and filled both their glasses.

“I don’t think I like that very much,” Ehri said, staring into her drink as if she could scry secrets from its surface. “Love should be something you fight to keep, no matter what.”

He offered her a tired smile. “Then you’re the braver one of us, Princess. Personally, I’m a bit tired of fighting at the moment.”

“You give shitty advice,” she accused.

“I’m drunk.”

“It’s an improvement.”

He decided to let her have the last word. They sat in silence as the moon climbed higher in the sky, the last bottle quickly polished off between them. There was a certain comfort in the quiet, an understanding that he only found with Ehri. It was rather nice. But if he ever told her that, she’d probably laugh in his face. Saints, he wished he’d meet a decent royal at least once in his life.

Ehri was the first to push away from the table first some hours later, the legs of her chair scraping against the stone floor with an ear splitting screech. Nikolai winced.

“Have a good night, o’ honorable husband,” she said as she brushed some dust off her sleeve. Her entire body swayed with the motion. “Don’t get assassinated. I don’t think I could manage to look mournful at your funeral.”

“Sweet dreams, darling wife,” he said with some amusement as he watched her stumble out of the kitchen. If he’d been feeling kinder, he might have offered to walk her to her room. But when he already knew what the answer was going to be, he didn’t have the strength to waste his breath.

[owlheartt]

HAHA Hey suckers I lied Star Sanses Extended chapter 1 done NOW (link to it on AO3)

It was quite the normal day.

Unfortunately. The Great Papyrus was bored. He had already recalibrated his puzzles twice, made pasta 3 times, scolded his brother 4 times, and was trying to figure out what to do 5 and 6 times (because threes are overused) when something happened. Well, not really. Sans took one of his shortcuts to appear right behind Papyrus, something he did often to try and surprise him. Have no fear, Papyrus can’t be surprised, so his brother never succeeded.

Papyrus turned around, ready to scold his brother for not simply walking. Really, his sentry station wasn’t that far from Papyrus’s. Except… that wasn’t Sans. It was! But, well, he looked different.

“SANS? BROTHER, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DRESS UP AS ME TO FEEL AS GREAT. I KNOW YOU’RE TRYING YOUR BEST.” Sans was wearing a chest plate with a light gray t-shirt peeking out. There was a bright blue scarf wrapped around his neck, tied back rather effectively into a bow. It fit him, but Papyrus felt that scarves look better when they can flow dramatically in the wind. He had on gloves that looked identical to Papyrus’s but in the same blue as his scarf. And, interestingly enough, his eyes were not his regular white but light blue. “THAT IS BETTER THAN YOUR USUAL ATTIRE THOUGH, SO I THANK YOU FOR TRYING.”

“AH,” the smaller skeleton said. He looked a bit uncomfortable. Sans was never uncomfortable around Papyrus unless he was hiding something.

“SANS? IS THERE SOMETHING YOU NEED TO TELL ME? IF YOU WANT INTO THE ROYAL GUARD, I WOULD BE HAPPY TO TELL UNDYNE!!” Papyrus gave his brother a toothy grin (what else can he give him? Skeletons can’t hide their teeth, silly) in the hopes of comforting him. But still, Sans shook his head. Ah well, if his brother wanted to keep another secret-

“I’M ACTUALLY NOT YOUR BROTHER,” Sans (not Sans? Stary Sans? Blue Sans?) looked down before straightening himself. Now that this skeleton mentioned that he wasn’t Papyrus’s brother, the bigger skeleton noticed how much different he sounded. For one, those definitely sounded like all caps. Sans hated speaking in all caps, though he’d told Papyrus that it made him sound much more commanding. Next, his posture was much better. Sans had a terrible habit of slouching. His eyelights were also a cyan color, like a lighter shade of Sans’s magic.

“IF YOU’RE NOT MY BROTHER…” Papyrus scrunched up his face. This, was a puzzle. A puzzle he intended to solve all on his own. He stared down at the skeleton, who appeared to be bracing himself.

“WOWZERS, IT’S A LOT HARDER THAN I THOUGHT TO TALK TO AN ALTERNATE VERSION OF MY BROTHER,” Not Sans smiled awkwardly and looked away before quickly forcing himself to look back at Papyrus. Papyrus paused, trying to fit in what Blue Sans just called him.

“AN… ALTERNATE VERSION OF YOUR BROTHER?” Papyrus felt ridiculous repeating back what not Sans said, but he couldn’t help it. What did he mean by alternate version? Papyrus vaguely recalled a training session with Undyne. They liked to chat while they were sparring, and this particular time Undyne mentioned something Alphys was studying in her free time. “AUs.” She said. After a bit of questioning, Undyne revealed that AU was an abbreviation of Alternate Universe, but she hadn’t really been listening beyond that. Papyrus despised abbreviations, and found it so frustrating that Undyne and Sans were so intent on using them, that the words had stuck with him despite their vagueness. “ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ALTERNATE UNIVERSES?”

Not Sans perked up, his eye lights popping into stars. His smile went from awkward to excited as he began to talk.

“YES, I AM! HOW MUCH DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THEM? USUALLY PAPYRUSES AREN’T AWARE OF THEM, BUT IF YOU ALREADY KNOW OF THEM THAT WILL MAKE THIS MUCH EASIER!”

“I’M AFRAID MY KNOWLEDGE IS LACKING. IT WAS MENTIONED BRIEFLY BY MY FANTASTIC FRIEND UNDYNE, BUT SHE DIDN’T KNOW MUCH EITHER.” Papyrus announced, slightly embarrassed. The blue Sans faltered, but quickly regained his energy.

“ALTERNATE UNIVERSES ARE EXACTLY WHAT THEY SOUND LIKE! THEY ARE ALTERNATE VERSIONS OF THIS WORLD. MINE IS CALLED ‘UNDERSWAP,’ YOU AND I HAVE SWITCHED PERSONALITIES THERE, SO REALLY, WE’RE THE SAME.” Not Sans concluded, looking adequately proud of himself for such a well worded explanation.

“…I SEE. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE THEN, NOT SANS?” Papyrus inquired. There was also the question of how Not Sans got here, but Papyrus was certain he would learn in due time.

“BLUEBERRY IS FINE! I’M A PART OF A GROUP OF SANSES CALLED THE ‘STAR SANSES’ SO MY FRIENDS AND I ALL HAVE NICKNAMES.” Nicknames, Papyrus’s worst enemy. Blueberry didn’t seem to mind though, despite him supposedly being an alternate version of Papyrus. “BUT TO GET TO THE POINT- I AM HERE BECAUSE I NEED TO ASK A FAVOR OF YOU, CLASSIC PAPYRUS.”

“IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO ADD A TITLE TO MY NAME, THE GREAT WOULD BE BETTER, THANK YOU.” Papyrus announced, not sure what Blueberry meant by “classic.”

“NO, NO. CLASSIC IS A REFERENCE TO YOUR TIMELINE. YOUR TIMELINE IS THE ORIGINAL, SO IT’S LABELED ‘CLASSIC.’ I’M AFRAID MULTIPLE PAPYRUS USE ‘THE GREAT’ SO IT’S NOT AS DEFINING. IF YOU HAVE A DIFFERENT SUGGESTION, I’D BE OPEN FOR HEARING IT?” Blueberry sounded apologetic. Papyrus, meanwhile, was thinking hard. What other title would he like? Classic just didn’t suit him. He had to admit, Blueberry’s reasoning was sound. It might be better than coming up with his own. Still, if he could figure out a better one…

“THEN YOU CAN CALL ME COOL GUY INSTEAD!” Papyrus announced proudly. Blueberry hesitated then smiled.

“A NAME TO MATCH YOUR PERSONALITY? FANTASTIC! IGNORING THE FACT THAT I’M COOLER THAN YOU, IT’S PERFECT!” Blueberry concluded. Papyrus was tempted to correct him, but he could guess that it wouldn’t go so well. They were alternate versions of each other after all, so it would be difficult to discover who was cooler (it was obviously Papyrus though).

“ANYWAYS,” Papyrus said. “YOU MENTIONED A FAVOR? I’M FANTASTIC AT DOING FAVORS, AND I’D LOVE TO HELP YOU. WHAT DO YOU NEED?”

“MY FRIENDS AND I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT JOB. WE PROTECT THE MULTIVERSE FROM AN EVIL GROUP CALLED THE ‘BAD SANSES.’ THEY’VE BEEN SUPER ACTIVE LATELY, AND DREAM THINKS THEY’LL ATTACK TODAY. UNFORTUNATELY, I’M BUSY ALL OF TODAY. I’M WORRIED ALPHYS WON’T THINK I’M FIT FOR THE GAUD OF I MISS A TRAINING SESSION, AND TODAY’S IS PLANNED TO LAST UNTIL LATE TONIGHT.” Papyrus had to hold back laughs picturing the short scientist holding one of Undyne’s spears with an eyepatch stuck on. He couldn’t seem to make it look anything short of ridiculous.

“BUT! BACK TO THE FAVOR, I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD TAKE MY PLACE TODAY. IF YOU’RE BUSY TOO, I UNDERSTAND.” Blueberry concluded.

“IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT JOB. WHY DO YOU STILL WANT TO BE A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD? DOESN’T BEING A STAR SANS GIVE YOU ALL THE LOVE AND AFFECTION YOU COULD DESIRE?” Papyrus said haltingly. Star Sanses protected the whole multiverse, the Royal Guard just protects the underground. If that didn’t give Blueberry enough love… What hope did Papyrus have?

“WELL, IT DOES, BUT…” Blueberry took a deep breath. “I HAVEN’T SHARED WHAT I DO WITH MY TIMELINE YET. IT’S KIND OF A HUGE SECRET. I’M THE ONLY MULTIVERSAL BEING WHO ISN’T AN OUTCODE. IT’S NOT SOMETHING INCODES ARE SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT. THERE AREN’T REALLY RULES BUT…” Blueberry trailed off, looking a bit upset.

“I’M SORRY I PUSHED. DOES THAT MEAN I’M NOT ALLOWED TO TELL ANYONE? MY BROTHER IS REALLY GOOD AT KEEPING SECRETS, MAY I TELL HIM?” Both brothers kept secrets from each other. Papyrus had his share, and he knew Sans had a pile. They had recently talked about trying to be more open with each other, and Papyrus wasn’t sure how he could keep his brother’s trust if he made a new secret. It was important to prevent new secrets from forming.

���LIKE I SAID, THERE ARE NO SPECIFIC RULES. IT’S JUST WHAT YOU FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH. BUT I WILL ASK THAT YOU COMMIT TO BEING ONE OF US BEFORE YOU TELL HIM,” Blueberry said firmly.

“OF COURSE! I WON’T LET YOU DOWN! HOW DO I HELP THOUGH? I’M NOT EVEN SURE HOW TO LEAVE MY TIMELINE.” Papyrus admitted. Blueberry looked relieved, and he stuck out his hand.

“I’M AFRAID I CAN’T OPEN MULTIVERSAL SHORT CUTS MYSELF, BUT IF YOU’D TAKE MY HAND MY FRIEND CAN BRING US OUT!” Blueberry widened his grin, and Papyrus reached out to grab his hand. There was a moment of stillness, where it was just the two of them in a snow covered forest. Some snow flurries falling from branches above. Papyrus shifted, the pause was uncomfortable. Just as Blueberry began to frown, a warm, distinctly yellow feeling began to spread through Papyrus’s bones. Blueberry even seemed to be glowing with the magic. Then pop, and he was somewhere new. It felt like a small jerk on his SOUL, more abrupt than his brother’s short cuts around the underground.

Speaking of, this wasn’t like anything Papyrus had seen in the underground. It was a large space with an orange gradient. It looked… undefinable, in the sense that it didn’t end. There were papers with small dancing images, and a number of them looked like Papyrus and his friends. Some were held up by strings while others hovered around the islands that floated about. It was a very dream-like place, like something Papyrus had imagined. It has been a long time since he dreamt something so serene, which was the only reason he could believe what he was seeing.

“Sorry about that Blue-” a new voice spoke, sounding a bit out of breath. Papyrus turned to find a golden Sans, laced with the same magic that brought him and Blueberry here. He had his hand wrapped tightly around another Sans. This one was incredibly short, he looked like a child compared to Papyrus (Not to fear! The Great Papyrus was fantastic with children!). He had a brush taller than him strapped to his back, and his outfit was all kinds of decorated- like a superhero! Both Sanses were.

“IT’S FINE. IS… IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT HERE?” Blueberry regarded the Golden Sans’s grip on the Sans with a brush. Oh dear, so many Sanses. Someone who wasn’t as brilliant as Papyrus might not be able to follow!

“Uh, yep!” The golden Sans smiled, but he looked a bit too stressed. The brush Sans, however, snapped his full attention to Papyrus. His eyelights bounced between color and shapes before finally landing on a bright sky-blue shaped as a triangle and a Royal purple as a star.

“HELLO!!!!! I’m Ink!!!!” Ink struggled out of the gold Sans’s gasp and bounced overs to Papyrus. It was disturbing how little he resembled Papyrus’s brother. “I’m the protector of the Multiverse!! You’re Classic Paps, right?!” Ink grinned wildly as Papyrus avoided cringing.

“HELLO, INK. PLEASE DON’T CALL ME PAPS, OR CLASSIC FOR THAT MATTER. BUT WOWIE, PROTECTOR OF THE MULTIVERSE SOUNDS LIKE SUCH A BIG JOB!” Papyrus couldn’t help but be in awe of Ink’s title. It sounded more important than Head of the Royal Guard. Ink’s grin grew and his purple eyelight turned yellow. He looked like he was about to respond, but the gold Sans cut him off.

“Yep, super big job, which is why he has us to keep him on track. Anyways, hello, my name is Dream. I’m the guardian of positivity. If you don’t want us calling you Classic, what should we call you?” Dream kept his smile up, but he looked exhausted.

“HE WANTS TO BE CALLED COOL GUY.” Blueberry announced. Dream managed to look more worn out before responding.

“That’s… a fun nickname. But this needs to be like a substitute for your real name? Just, please pick something different.” Dream sounded incredibly firm, and Papyrus didn’t want to wear him out anymore. So he listened.

“WHAT ABOUT COOL BONES?” Papyrus’s smile faltered as Dream’s eyelights flickered out.

“Papyrus, please, be serious.” Papyrus had been serious, but he decided not to mention it. “Just- here, think about our names for a moment? Ink, Blue, Dream,” Dream pause, looking up at Papyrus hopefully. Papyrus did his best to reconsider. He could find an alternate version of his name? Translate it into another language perhaps. There was also the history of the word itself, which he and Sans had searched up late one brotherly bonding night. While the word papyrus is a plant, it’s also a form of paper in Ancient Egypt. Paper has simply so many uses, and it’s so incredibly important (and obnoxiously underrated). The Great Papyrus wouldn’t mind being called Paper.

“I CAN BE PAPER!” He offered, and Dream relaxed into a more genuine smile.

“Oooh!!! Like the paper to my ink!!!” Ink grinned, absolutely delighted.

“No, actually-“ Papyrus (Paper?) tried to correct him. With all the meaning behind his choice, he wanted to give it the proper glory.

“WELCOME TO THE STAR SANSES, PAPER!!!” Blueberry said, cutting Papyrus off. He tried to place his hand on Papyrus’s shoulder, but after discovering he couldn’t reach Blueberry settled for patting Papyrus’s back.

“THANK YOU NEW FRIEND!!” Papyrus widened his smile, reveling in the fact that he had made not one, not two, but THREE new friends in less than an hour. He couldn’t wait to tell his brother.

“NOW THAT WE’VE GOT THAT OUT OF THE WAY,” Blueberry said, “I HAVE TO HEAD HOME, ALPHYS IS EXPECTING ME. GOOD LUCK PAPER!” Blueberry threw a glance at Dream, then he lit up with the same golden hue as last time and disappeared. Ink’s eyelights flashed to a different color as he focused again on Papyrus, who had noticed by now that Ink’s attention was short and his focus quickly shifted.

“So, buddy, what do you wanna do now?” Ink leaned forward, almost as if bowing, and he bounced a little on his heels before performing some kind of trick jump and landing on an island floating a few feet up. He was now roughly at Papyrus’s socket-level.

“We tell Papyrus how this is going to go.” Dream said, cutting Ink off. Ink frowned, one eyelight flipping to a purple question mark while the other changed to a dim reddish-orange square.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Papyrus wiggled his fingers, the fabric of his gloves rubbing. Dream sounded awfully serious, a stark contrast to Ink’s carefree nature.

“Blue’s already learned how to deal with… the Bad Sanses. Since we already know what does and doesn’t work, I’d rather skip the hard-learned lessons.” Dream gave a weak smile at the end, while Ink stuck out a rainbow colored tongue, nearly pouting.

“...WHAT MIGHT THOSE BE?” Papyrus began to worry for the first time since he accepted Blueberry’s offer.

“First of all, Blue’s already tried speeches.”

“MAYBE THEY JUST NEED MORE, OR HE HASN’T FOUND THE RIGHT ONE!” Papyrus said. Dream winced.

“Maybe, but we don’t have the time to give the speeches, and more often than not the Bad Sanses don’t even listen, they murder while you talk.” Dream said, the spot where his eyebrows would be tilting up.

“MURDER?” Papyrus faltered.

“Did Blue forget to tell you?” Ink asked. He had plopped down and was lying on his back with his skull dangling off his island, looking far too relaxed.

“TELL ME WHAT.” Papyrus didn’t want to guess this time. Dust isn’t a puzzle he ever wanted to solve.

“Our role as Guardians of the Multiverse is to protect timelines from being destroyed. The way that happens is the Bad Sanses wipe through the entire Underground, killing anyone and everyone they meet. Once they’ve killed enough, the timeline is unstable enough for them to destroy it directly.” Dream sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Or so we think. Timelines are weird, and there could be a whole slew of reasons for how things work!! It’s really interesting. I’ve been wanting to study it all but- OOH A BUTTERFLY!!!” Ink said, jumping up to chase the shiny indigo insect. Even though Ink didn’t finish his sentence, Papyrus could get a sense of why he wasn’t learning anything. Ignoring the eccentric skeleton, Dream just looked sad. He was staring down at the ground, one hand wrapped tightly around the fabric above his SOUL.

“WHAT HAPPENS IF WE DON’T GET THERE IN TIME?” Papyrus tried to say it softly, but he could never figure out how to speak in lowercase. At least it still sounded caring.

“The entire timeline dies.” Dream sighed. He looked up, finally seeing Papyrus’s expression. “Ah! Don’t worry though!! We win a lot!! I’m just trying to explain why I need you to listen to me!!” Dream waved his hands about, trying to dispel the dark mood that had settled.

“THAT’S ALRIGHT. YOU WERE BEING HONEST. IT’S IMPORTANT TO UNDERSTAND ALL OF THE PIECES OF OUR JOB. I’M GLAD YOU TOLD ME.” Papyrus crouched so as to come eye to eye with Dream. He used this tactic with his brother whenever Sans was upset. Papyrus had found that it’s easier to talk to someone who’s right there with you. Papyrus reached out his gloved hands, and wrapped the bright, cheery red around Dream’s hands. Papyrus realized for the first time that Dream wore gloves too. Maybe he was a swapped version of Papyrus like Blueberry. Papyrus made a note to ask him later, when he was feeling better.

“Thank you, Paper.” Dream took a deep breath before continuing. “We pride ourselves in not killing anyone, ever. Not even the Bad Sanses. A tactic we like to use is trapping them. Blueberry does that the most, because he has the most magic to spare, so you’ll be using a lot of blue magic. Is that ok?”

“ABSOLUTELY!! I HAVE FANTASTIC CONTROL OF MY MAGIC, YOU DON’T NEED TO WORRY.”

“The butterfly flew away.” Ink said, butting in. He had a pout again. Papyrus leaned toward Dream a little and whispered to him.

“DOES… DOES HE PAY ATTENTION ENOUGH TO NOT GET HURT?” Papyrus was genuinely worried, but Dream burst out laughing. His grin widened as he turned toward Ink, who had begun to… eat… grass..?

“Most of the time.” Dream said, not particularly reassuring.

[just2bubbly]

Breaking the news..

Masterlist

Rumors and Affairs Chapter List

// This is an update of  What was she thinking?! 

Cinder’s Perspective: 

She decided to go through the articles. Most of them were dated from when she had escaped out of prison with Thorne. They said how Cinder had run away with her ‘lover’ criminal Thorne. She cringed on the word lover. The more recent ones were about her and Thorne at the Ball. After reading many such articles, she came across the article that was the root cause of all the rumors. It had the picture of her and Thorne standing outside the hall while the ball was going on. He had brought her outside to tell her about how he was going to propose to Cress and Cinder had become so happy to see how far her best friend had come. She had hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. Being pregnant had made her super emotional; she could have a headache or laugh over the silliest thing. The media captured this specific affectionate moment between the two and right now she wanted to kill herself for her idiosyncrasies. She was just hugging Thorne why did they have to make such a fuss about this. Well after reading the entire article she came to realize that the media had misinterpreted the scene between the two. They had thought that the two were meeting outside to have a word without the Emperor catching them and it became a bit affectionate but Empress Selene restrained herself in the fear of getting caught.

Cinder recalled how she had confined Thorne that she was literally more scared of doing childbirth than leading the lunar revolution and he had assured her in a rather affectionate way, where he did hold both of their hands on her swollen stomach. The media had definitely misinterpreted and made a fuss about it. Plus Thorne was known for his flirty personality all over the world and also Luna.

All such times she hated how the press and mass media could not have any restrictions and limitations. Stars, they should not publish stuff that they did not have a clue about.

She was having a strong headache meaning that if she had tear ducts she would be crying now or maybe she was just having a headache from frustration. Either way it was not good for her or the baby. Last month they had a riot outside the palace gate about her cyborg-ness. The hatred towards Cinder had been high time since Kai and she had announced that they have been expecting an heir soon. Kai did his best to make her feel better but she was so insecure in moments like these. After all she had received this hate since she was 11. Memories don’t fade easily, especially bad ones.

She was walking in the gardens when the whole incident had happened. The riots were peaceful but Kai and Torin were all shaken up. It looked like they had been expecting this sometime sooner or later. Well saying that Cinder was not expecting this would be a lie for she had so many nightmares about her being close to a crowd and then a riot would start where she and the baby would be harmed in some way or the other.

Cinder herself had taken so much effort to remove cyborg prejudice. Even then she had to suffer through first hand cyborg hate taking in consideration that she was the Empress of the Eastern Commonwealth.

That’s when she saw it. It was Kai. He had commed her. In a normal and peaceful situation she would be happy and bubbly(I know I just made a reference) to see him but now that the situation was anything but calm and normal. She wanted to not pick his call. Not receiving his comm won’t help her though. So she gave in.

“Hey! You took a lot of time to pick up the comm, were you sleeping?”

Seeing him in front of her eyes she just wanted to hug him and let him whisper to her that everything was fine-

“Hail to Cinder! Are you there?”

“Yeah! Why?”

“Well respond so that I can understand”

“When are you coming back?”

“Oh! I see you were so lost in thinking about me that you forgot to realize that your dear husband Kai is there in front of you! Tell me Cinder, Am I wrong? Did you spend all your time thinking about me then?”

“Don’t flatter yourself Emperor. It does not suit you well.” Technically she had been thinking about him all the time but pregnancy had not made her lose her mind so far so she would not blurt out about how she was day-dreaming about her husband.

“C’mon Cinder why can’t you just accept that you missed me?  I do it all the time.”

“Okay Kai. Tell me when are you returning now?”

“I will be there in New Beijing besides you till tomorrow afternoon. I would have left tonight but Queen Camilla invited us to dinner at the royal palace. I don’t want to go-”

“What? You will be coming tomorrow?” she screamed, maybe.

“I thought you would be sad to know that I am delaying my flight because of some stupid dinner.”

“No Kai, it is not like that. Well I certainly do miss you and am happy that you will be there here tomorrow. Stars, it has been difficult without you here but I thought you had yet a week to come and stars above I have so much stuff to do and things to fix. I just don’t have the time to do it before you get back I can’t believe I am running late on my schedule Kai I want-”

“Calm down Cinder. I had asked you to do nothing if you remembered. Plus Torin told me.”

Cinder had covered her face with her hands. She peeked at him a bit scared of his reaction. Why the hell was he being good and not yelling at her if Torin had already told him?!

“What did Torin tell you?”

“Why? Is it problematic that my advisor tells me all about you?”

“That’s not the point Kai. What did he tell you?”

“Nothin’ just how you over-work yourself and do not rest well and keep zoning out between conversations. You really do get hopeless without me.”

“Oh! That’s what Torin told you. Thank goodness”

“Why? Was there something else?”

“NO! Nothing else…. for now at least- I can’t ...I don’t know” why couldn’t she lie towards Kai as easily as she did with the others. It felt like Kai could just look through her soul and realize the truth.

“What happened Cinder? Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Did something happen to you? Did Dr.Nandez say something about the pregnancy? Cinder tell me! ” He looked desperate and all the worst possible scenarios were running through his mind now. She could tell it.

“Kai, I am fine. The baby is fine. Everyone is fine. Well not everyone because Torin and I are all panicked because I did some mistake and screwed up big time….” she trailed.

“Oh! Only that much. Well I thought something happened to you and the baby.”

He sighed before continuing, “What did you do?”

“Well it’s related to the baby. In the head staff meeting I said something that made the entire Thorne-Cinder affair rumors worse.”

“Oh.” he had not expected that.

“Can you brief me about it if it is okay for you or should I ask Torin?”

“Well I kind of blurted out that the rumors about me and Thorne are true while I was zoning out and although I tried to assure them I don’t think that they are much convinced. Shit. I screwed up Kai.”

His eyes had definitely widened. Cinder could tell that without looking. He was trying his best to remain calm but she wanted him to talk. Bloody hell she wanted him to talk now. She was a mess on the inside. Thankfully there were no new rumors about her and Thorne or any news about today’s meeting on her newsfeed yet.

There was an unwanted and suffocating silence between the two of us.

“Well you did screw up big time Cinder but it's okay. Do they know that I know about these rumors?”

“I don’t know. Mostly likely not because I think usually courting outside of marriages are to kept a secret.

“Cinder please.” She should not use sarcasm in situations like these. She nodded and whispered a sorry.

“What should we do?” she asked again trying to take a hold over this bizarre situation.

“You really cannot do anything anymore. Whatever you say will not be given much importance and most likely be doubted so you would only give a single official statement in my presence when I return. For the rest, I will come up with a plan with Torin’s help.”

“Kai stop fighting my battles. You already have done enough by not kicking me out okay. I should take responsibility of my mistakes-”

”It’s okay Cinder. Everything is okay. You and I know that we are madly in love with each other. That’s all that I care about. You would no longer over work yourself. I guess you should stop holding meetings for time being as well, you know as a precaution.” he said the last part teasingly but yet I felt disheartened.

I was glaring at him but then the rumors about our child’s parentage hit me like some train. I could not tell Kai this. He would surely be disappointed. He would be heart-broken.

What should I tell him huh- Hey Kai! The media thinks that the child I am carrying is Thorne’s and not yours. Lol, but you know the truth right?

Sue me.

“There is something more Kai.”

“What?” he asked a bit concerned, a furrowed brow forming.

“They questioned about our baby’s parentage as well”

Upon hearing this he really looked so sad. His face had fallen and he avoided looking at her.

She heard some commotion from his side.

“Cinder I have to go. I am sorry we will talk later. I will figure it out with Torin’s help. Bye. Take care.” He was croaking. Cinder had a headache coming as well.

Before she could reply, he had ended the comm.

Glancing at her net-screen Cinder sighed. There was no news about today’s meeting anywhere. Torin might have done his miracles on the staff again.

__

A/N: I am thinking about a good damage control idea, so it might take a while. Needless to say, There is more!

( I also have an another Kaider fic named ‘ Nightmares’, if you like Kaider fluff you can check it out!!  🖤 )

Likes, Reblogs and Comments will be much loved!  🖤

P.S Can you suggest some baby names for Kaider child, both the gender please.  

[missjanjie]

Prompts + AUs/Tropes #9

because i just cant get enough of these lol. anyway, send in a number and letter with a ship!

“There’s something I should’ve told you.”

“I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

“Open the door, please.”

“I can smell the alcohol on your breath.” 

“You make me feel alive, like I was only existing until now.” 

“What, you think you can fuck me better?”

“You are a rotted, evil bitch.”

“Just say what you mean for once.”

“Your hands aren’t clean, I’ve seen your fingerprints.”

“God, that’s so nice.”

“Can we not fight anymore?”

“I’ll be honest, I’ve been undressing you with my eyes since you walked in.”

“I should tell you, I have always loved you.”

“Are you even human?”

“Just take one for the team.”

“I’d forgotten how to smile until you came into my life.”

“You are the only thing that’s right about this broken world.”

“I brought you a snack, can I come in?”

“You know damn well I was the best you ever had.”

“You hesitated...”

“How’d I let you slip away?” 

“Get that smirk off of your face.”

“Shit, the door won’t budge. I think we’re stuck.”

“Well, you took off your shirt and started dancing on the table, that’s when I had to carry you out of there.”

“Oh look, there’s only one bed. How cliché.”

“I can’t make it alone.”

“What do you see in them anyway?”

“I know you want to forget, I do too.”

“You’ll never know how much I really love you.”

“I thought you were different.”

“You can’t fraternize with the enemy.”

“I didn’t fraternize with the enemy, we just had sex.”

“Why does distance make us wise?”

“Damn, you can’t have shit here.” 

“Somewhere in my wicked past, there must’ve been something I did good.”

“You might have the rest of them fooled, but not me.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from me. You’re the worst at keeping secrets.”

“So... we’re gonna be parents?” 

“I always fall for the stupid ones.”

“They’re trying to make me jealous... and it’s working.”

“You just killed your last functioning brain cell.”

“If you’re so observant, how come you haven’t noticed they’re cheating on you?”

“I’m not saying you have to choose me over them. I’m saying I know you want to.”

“That’s a new look for you.”

“Oh, I still hate you, me being horny for you is unrelated.” 

“You’re shivering, take my sweater.” 

“Have you been avoiding me?”

“You are the only thing that’s right about this broken world.”

“This isn’t something you can fix, I just need you to hold me through it.” 

“You cried when your favorite sim died, you’re not exactly the pinnacle of stoicism.” 

“This is where you work?” 

“We can start over, just the two of us.”

“I never believed in soulmates before you.” 

“I can’t believe I still want you.”

“You’re so tense, let me help you relax.”

“They’re not gonna get away with treating you like that.”

“I wasn’t watching you sleep, you just happened to be asleep while I was still awake.” 

“That is wildly inappropriate. I’m into it.”

“Pull yourself together!”

“You’re burning the candle at both ends, let me take care of you for once.” 

“Not to alarm you, but I’m at the hospital.” 

“Don’t judge me, I needed to eat my feelings.” 

“Why are you always so concerned with my romantic life?”

“I miss everything about you.”

“You drive me crazy, in the best and worst way.”

“Oh my god, that’s so cute.”

“No one’s ever really stood up for me like that before.”

“What do you mean you’re not doing anything for Halloween?”

“This is a complete shit show.”

“I’m not going back, never again.” 

“Fuck off and die.”

“Maybe we’re not meant to last, but I don’t care.”

“Aw, this is our song.” 

“This is the dumbest idea I have ever had.”

“That’s way too much responsibility for me.”

A. Royal AU B. High School AU C. Hurt/Comfort D. Soulmate AU E. Accidental Baby Acquisition F. Criminal AU G. Enemies to Lovers H. Vampire AU I. Mythical Creature (non vampire) AU J. Secret Admirer K. Historical AU L. Tattoo Shop AU M. Fake Dating N. College AU O. Stripper/Porn Star AU P. Arranged Marriage Q. Prison AU R. Forbidden Love S. Flower Shop AU T. Party Games U. Coffee Shop AU V. Teacher AU W. Childhood AU X. Secret Agent/Assassin AU Y. Bookshop AU Z. Other (specify)

[trashcankitty12]

Nabu Headcanons

Meet Prince Nabu Wayne of Tides. (The realm closest in proximity to Andros.)

He’s a second born child, laid back, and relatively insightful. (At least, that’s what his friends tell him.)

Nabu had a bit of a sheltered upbringing, but he managed to have some fun adventures anyway, becoming a strong wizard and a great (future) king.

(All headcanons are mostly for my Left and New Company of Light verse. If you have any you’d like to borrow, feel free. :) )

-Nabu, the second born of the Tidese Royal Family, and the only son of the King and Queen of Tides.

-He has an older sister named Talia, who is the future Queen of Tides.

-Nabu had a fairly normal life for a royal kid, or at least, he wasn’t quite as sheltered as some of the royals…

-At least, he wasn’t until the attempts against Layla and Sky by remnants of the Ancestral Coven. After that, he was kept closer to the palace. (Unless under protective custody.)

-Before the attempts, Nabu was allowed to roam the palace and the outskirts of the palace with his sister.

-They admittedly would get into trouble, the two were pranksters against the guards and their parents and just… They love to laugh and they laugh together.

-When Nabu discovered his powers (and his sister discovered hers), their parents employed the best magic tutors/magic teachers they could find.

-Their teachers would often take them out of Tides and into other realms to learn how to adapt their magic and how to push the boundaries of their powers.

-(Yes, those field trips would continue after the attempts were made, but they were done with body guards and soldiers as chaperones.)

-Nabu is fluent in up to seven languages, but he seldom gets a chance to really speak most of them. (He did his best to find friends from other realms to speak with after Timmy unblocked his phone from the rest of the Magical Dimension’s internet.)

-He fell in love with airy/loose fitting clothes at a young age. It made him feel like he was the character from his favorite book series and he found it helps him be more agile when he’s doing his training. (And his parents found that it worked well with the Tidese Royal Robes. So win-win.)

-Nabu has no qualms or ill-will toward his sister for being the one next in line for the throne. In fact, he’s glad about it. It means less he has to worry about and less stress on his plate.

-He was also the first one to realize his sister had a secret-girlfriend and that she wasn’t a royal. And the one who did his best to bridge the gap between Talia and Anne and his parents.

-When he was 14, Nabu managed to talk his parents into letting him attend Coventry Academy for Wizards and Witches.

-This gave him more opportunities to learn about magic and the rest of the Magical Dimension.

-(Also, his roommate? Diaspro’s older brother, Jasper. And honestly, they actually got along pretty well.)

-Nabu found out just a month before Layla did about their engagement. He wasn’t happy and even brought up how his sister was allowed to choose her future spouse, why couldn’t he?

-He was so angry he ditched Coventry. (With some help from Jasper to keep his disappearance on the down-low, on the promise that he would come back after he had more information about Layla.)

-He tried really hard not to like Layla when he finally found her. He did. He wanted to hate her and despise her and find a way to terminate their arranged marriage… But he couldn’t.

-Nabu fell in love with her almost immediately. Her strong will, her independent nature, the strength with which she carried herself… How big her heart was for her friends and how quick she was to defend her home… He couldn’t have asked for a better match.

-(Yeah, they had a shit-ton to work through after they found out about each other… But in the end, they had both fallen in the deep end for one another and were more than willing to see how their relationship would go.)

-Meeting the guys and getting to know them was the reason why Nabu wanted to, and managed to after a long talk with his dad, transfer to Red Fountain.

-He ended up being roommates with Timmy. (Which doesn’t bother him quite so much… He just wishes Timmy would have a normal sleep schedule…)

-At Red Fountain, his best classes were magical defense and beast taming. His worst? Whenever he had to use a blaster or fly a ship… (Or use a compass… Nabu is good at a lot of things, but without his magic, he has a shit sense of direction.)

-Nabu actually enjoyed the camping trips Red Fountain took them on. It let him feel closer to nature and to his squad mates.

-At Coventry, Nabu was the best at illusion magic and divination. His worst here was anything that had to do with curses. He can’t summon enough negative energy for curses.

-(Not to say he doesn’t have negative feelings or that he hasn’t been extremely angry or upset before… But Nabu is just a naturally jolly person. And a logical one when things seem to be going downhill. He just feels that with his friends and Layla, he can handle anything.)

-(Also at Coventry, he and Jasper tended to get into trouble of their own. Pranks against fellow students and some of the teachers, nothing malicious. Though he did have Jasper keep him away from Diaspro. She had, at one point, attempted to pursue him in an attempt to show her parents she could secure a throne somehow. Which was not on Nabu’s list of things to do.)

-Nabu and Jasper are still friends, though more long distance these days since Jasper has really had to step up as the future King of Isis. (Especially since Diaspro got into trouble. Again.)

-Nabu got his tattoos when he was about 16. He completed a ritual on Tides that basically meant he had become one with the ocean and had the waters moving within him.

-(His sister has similar tattoos on her arms, though more bubble foam/like.)

-Nabu loves to surf and to swim and scuba diving. Honestly he just loves being near the water and having sand between his toes.

-He loves dance and often has Layla teaching him new moves. Sometimes, if your lucky, you’ll see them dancing in the kitchen while trying to get snacks for movie nights.

-Nabu is big on healthy eating and yoga. His mother just ingrained both into him at a young age.

-At least with yoga, he has friends who enjoy participating with him. And with the healthy eating, he’s great at making healthy alternative snacks. (Which Flora absolutely loves him for.)

-Riven and Nabu became unlikely friends rather quickly. Neither of them is quite sure how it happened, but both are quite fine with their arrangement. Riven shares things with Nabu he has issues sharing with others and Nabu gets to vent out some of his frustrations with Riven that he’s more nervous to voice with others.

-(They also get into competitive surfing competitions. But the kind where they can laugh at each other afterward.)

-Nabu loves animals and hopes to have pets in the future. (He couldn’t have any pets other than fish at home because his parents weren’t… Pet people. But he knows Layla has a soft-side for dogs, so he’s hoping they can find one they both love.)

-Once he officially joined the team, it kind of shocked him how often they got into trouble. Like he was pretty sure that the whole Valtor thing was a one-time instance.

-Like when he found out about the group’s freshman year, he nearly lost his mind. (“You guys fought a battle that nearly ended the entire Magical Dimension? At 15?! You out of your minds?”)

-And then when he heard about the sophomore year shenanigans. (“Layla, you went to ShadowHaunt, on your own, when Darkar was still in charge?!” “I had to save the pixies.” “And then everyone went after Darkar?” “Well yeah. Couldn’t let him have ultimate power.” “How are any of you still alive?”)

-When the Mandragora thing happens during their senior year, he just sort of accepts it. (“Oh look. Someone else who wants to kill us.”)

-And then the Black Circle shit… (“Can… Can we not have a single break? At all?”)

-Poor Nabu, he’d went to having a relatively quiet life of royalty to always having to try and save the world because if he doesn’t help, Layla will be doing it on her own anyway.

-He loves swapping royalty horror stories (and gossip, not that he’ll admit that part) with Stella and Sky. (Layla isn’t as big on it. She just doesn’t care at all who’s doing what. Though she does participate from time to time.)

-While he’s not a fan of video games, Nabu does like to cheer on Timmy and Tecna when they have a tournament going on. (And he even supplies them with snacks. Nutritional ones. They don’t seem to notice the difference.)

-Nabu and Flora tend to go on tangents together about nature conservation. He’s big on ocean protection, just like she is on forest preservation and together it’s just… Wow.

-(They have even been to a few protests together. Sometimes heated ones. Thankfully, due to Nabu’s status, they haven’t gotten into too much trouble.)

-After his near-death experience, Nabu tends to have nightmares. Strong ones. Ones where he does actually die and he can see Layla and his friends just losing themselves in morning.

-He wakes up crying and Layla just holds him tight.

-(She has nightmares too, about losing him after she had been so close to doing so.)

-(Which is why they pushed their wedding date up a bit. So they can be married before something does take them away from each other.)

-One somewhat good thing came from the whole experience… Nabu’s magic evolved a bit.

-He’s better at divination than he’d ever been before. With his abilities, he can sometimes get visions of things in the past or of things to come. (And sometimes, if concentrates, he can bring up the visions in pools of water so he can share them with others.)

-(When he gets the hang of it, he’s sure he’ll be able to do better once he understands how this part of his powers work.)

-Nabu hopes that with everything he and Layla have been through and survived, it’ll give them the experience and knowledge necessary to become the best rulers Andros has ever had. (Or at least, rulers as amazing as his parents and Layla’s parents are.)