#Pardon all my fancy words and reply as you see fit!

[caligoascendant]

@diktown With Lady's location so clear within the ever churning consciousness of the Overlord, Caligo finished tidying up the cozy living space he had prepared for Lady's arrival. A flourish of his hand produced a folded blanket upon the large couch he had brought in, cushions soft and cozy. A small fire burned in the fireplace just a little ways away, ensuring that the room felt plenty comfortable for his soon to arriving guest. A small room, but not claustrophobic, decorated with a myriad of starry patterns and pleasant milky ways. All plucked from Caligo's memories of travels, of world's long turned to naught but ash... But such recollections were unimportant as Caligo plopped down on the large couch, so littered with cushions and pillows. What truly mattered was Lady's arrival...which he so decided to herald with a curt downward slash in the space in front of him. Not more than a meter away from, the reality of his space and time was spilt asunder, directly into that endless oblivion between all realities which was known as The Void. But such darkness was fleeting as the next rift was rent asunder...to opened no more than a meter away from Lady herself. And once both these rifts were made, the Overlord slipped into a comfortable pose, leaning upon the couch's arm as he so softly cooed out. "Hey Laaaaaaady~"

[bokettochild]

Hmmm if you need ideas I always love cultural difference shenanigans so maybe Twilight and Hyrule or Warriors and Hyrule having jarringly different cultures?

I didn't really touch on cultures much, since I'm still learning a lot about the games in general, but here's three boys discussing the educational systems of their respective provinces!

(Asks are open still, if anyone wants a story, feel free to request it! I will try my best! (Crossovers aren't off the table, but I can't promise I'll write them))

From Ordon to Catalia

“So, you’re telling me,” Warriors states disbelievingly. “That you, the Hero of Hyrule, couldn’t even speak Hylian until mere months before you saved the kingdom?”

The traveler nods, a faint flush dusting over his browned cheeks at Warriors’ question.

Twilight shakes his head, a smile on his face. “Who’da thunk it? Chin up traveler, I didn’t even live in Hyrule when I saved it.”

“What?” Warriors turns to him, royal blue flickering with disbelief as he stares from one country hero to the other. “Seriously? Both of you?”

“Well,” Hyrule tugs at one of his curls, eyes glistening with mischief as he speaks. “I mean, Legend saved like, four other countries, and he wasn’t from any of them.”

“But the first country he saved was Hyrule.” Warriors asserts. “And at least he was sent to the other places or something, unlike you two.” The captain stares from one to the other. “Traveling through the kingdom and just happening to run into the Royal Nursemaid?” He turns to Twilight, disbelief still written clear on his face. “And chasing monsters, if I recall correctly. What the heck, guys?”

He can’t help but take a bit of pity on Warriors, the captain has only ever been outside of his Hyrule’s main areas when time traveling, and the poor man clearly has little to no familiarity with the provinces and kingdoms beyond his own home, save for whatever rich and stuffy nobles talk about when royalty from the other kingdoms comes to visit. But even so, Wars lacks the faintest clue of the world outside of Hyrule’s borders, and that's just a little bit sad.

He leans back on the bed that he and Hyrule are sharing, it’s been a few weeks since they were last at an inn and he fully intends on enjoying the plush beds while they can, even if it is a bit too soft for his own comfort. “We could tell you more about them, if you like?”

At his side, Hyrule nods, smile bright if not a bit wistful. “I’m always willing to share about my home.”

Warriors hesitates, caught between disbelief and curiosity.

“I don’t think even Legend has been to Catalia.” Hyrule muses, but Twilight sees the sparkle in Hyrule’s eyes, he’s tempting the captain in a way the both of them know is sure to work.

“That so?” Warriors muses. “Well, I suppose so. Although,” He turns a cynical eye to Twilight. “I’m not sure how much I actually want to know about farm life.”

“Your loss, city boy.” He scoffs in response, a wolfish smile pulling at his features.

It’s nice, he thinks as he leans back further, letting Hyrule pull his thoughts together and Warriors shake off the surprise of their previous words, to just sit and talk with his brothers. Time and Legend have roomed with Wild so he doesn’t have to worry about the Cub making trouble without him there to watch him, and for the first time in a long tie he can just sit down and talk with his other brothers. He doesn’t know why Time let Four assign rooms like this, but he isn’t complaining if the others aren’t.

“Well, what would you like to hear about?”

Warriors frowns, staring at Hyrule for a moment as the Traveler flushes darker under his curls. Maybe the healer wasn’t as ready to talk as he first thought. “How about, your family, what sort of people are they?”

Hyrule stares at the captain disbelievingly for a moment. “You’ve met my mom, remember? And I don’t really remember much of my dad, he went missing when I was a kid.”

“Oh,” Warriors flushes, a strained smile taking over his features. “Right.”

Hyrule giggles softly. “I’m not mad, Cap, just surprised that you forgot. Although to be fair, not many people probably think about it since I look like a Hylian.”

“Yeah, about that, how does that work?”

“Hylian father, I look more like him in this form. We may be from Catalia, but he was there entirely because he was fleeing the destruction of Hyrule. He met my mom in the Aver Forests, where she’d been wandering for the last few years. Great fairies can leave their pools if they so choose, but they do so rarely. Unfortunately, mom had too because of the increase of monsters in Hyrule.”

“What is the Aver Forest?”

“The biggest, lushest forest in all of Catalia!” Hyrule spread his arms wide as if to indicate how big it truly was. “I’m pretty sure it’s just the other side of the lost woods in my time, since it’s so close to the border. It nothing like Hyrule, but it is, was, home.”

“So, did yer ma follow you to Hyrule?”

“Not exactly.” The traveler replies with a small frown. “She came after Hyrule was made safer again. I can’t exactly leave the country freely anymore, so she came to see me. It’s a good thing too, since getting potions is far more difficult than just bathing in her pool.”

“Are potions really that expensive in your time?” Warriors asks, concern flecking his gentle gaze.

“It’s not about the price,” Hyrule frowns. “It’s more that most people don’t know how to brew them, and finding a person who can is difficult.”

“Ah, supply and demand.”

“Pardon, what?” The traveler looks up to the captain in confusion.

“Supply and demand, you know,” Wars states like it’s common knowledge. “When lots of people want something but only a few people can provide it? It’s the reason shops can get away with charging so much for things.”

Both country heroes stare at him.

“Have neither of you ever heard of it?” The captain blinks at them, leaning forwards on his bed. “How is that possible?”

“Not all provinces have a school, Wars.” He replies, chuckling softly at the surprise on Warriors’ face. “For farming communities we focus on animals and plants, don’t need no fancy education to plow a field.”

Hyrule stares between the two of them. “Alright, this might be a Hylian word I haven’t learned yet, but what is a scewl?”

“A what?” Warriors echoes, turning to face the traveler.

“A scewl?”

“A school?” Twilight translates, brow furrowed until the Hero of Hyrule nods in confirmation, after which he relaxes again. “It's a place people go to learn to read and write, and to count and do equations.”

“And here I thought there weren’t any in Ordon?” Warriors teases lightly.

“Get off it, Cap’. We don’t have schools, but we do have books, I know how to read and if I can learn more than I will.”

“Ah, self-taught?”

“Mostly.” He shrugs. “Hylian’s real different from Ordon-Standard, even if they’re essentially the same.”

“That makes no sense.” The captain deadpans, staring at him blankly.

“I mean, even though they have a lot in common, the way people speak and pronounce things, the vernacular and what not, is quite different that Hyrule proper.”

Hyrule blinks at the two of them owlishly. “What are equations?”

A glance is shared between them. “Math.” Warriors answers. “You know, adding, subtraction, multiplication and division?”

The traveler raises a brow, but he's shrinking in on himself in the way he does when he gets nervous. “What are those? Multipulycation and division?”

Warriors stares cautiously at the traveler, gaze gentle but concerned. “Hyrule, do you not know how to do math?”

“Do you know how to count?” Twilight tries instead.

“Of course!”

“Can you combine numbers?”

“That’s counting, but with bigger numbers.”

“Can you subtract it again?”

“Yes.” Hyrule answers slowly.

“Can you multiply?”

The traveler stares at Warriors nervously. “I just told you I don’t know what that is.”

The captain, bless his heart, looks genuinely hurt. “Good grief, what sort of mentor is Legend? Not making sure you know basic multiplication?”

And Hyrule flushes, but his brows furrow as he pushes himself straight, always defensive of his mentor. “He didn’t know, and he’s a great mentor! He’s been showing me how to grow trees!”

“Legend knows forestry?” The captain starts.

“He has an orchard.” Twilight reminds him, light laughter bubbling in his chest at the understanding that crosses Warriors’ face at the words.

“Right.” The captain turns to Hyrule. “How about this, Legend can teach whatever it is he teaches you, but when he’s done with that for the day, you come find me? Math is a wonderful thing, even if it is a tad complex, and it'd be a shame to let you go without knowing it.”

Betrayal makes itself known as Twilight pulls away from the two. “You like math?”

Horror blooms on Warriors’ delicate features. “You don’t?”

“Arithmetic is the bane of my existence and if I didn’t need to know how to count rupees, I would willingly forget it.” Twilight spits out.

“It’s wonderful!” Warriors defends. “Everything makes sense and has a logical explanation! You can count on it having an answer every time.”

One dark brow raises as midnight blue stare back at the captain, unimpressed. “Except when it doesn’t. Except when you have to graph equations but you can’t because they don’t have answers. Except when there’s two missing numbers and nothing fits in together, except when the numbers decide to become letters and you have to spit up the alphabet along with your equations.”

“How much math do you know?” Warriors raises a brow.

“Too much.” He isn’t even ashamed of the shudder that makes his pelt tickle against his cheeks. “Wild is a literal genius at it, and I can’t even number how many time he's decided to use it to explain some hare-brained scheme. Trajectory and angles and-” He shivers again. “No thank you. It’s like he ate a math textbook and just keeps spitting it back up, every time he wants to do something dumb.”

The captain whistles lowly, royal blue eyes sparkling. “You mean he has theories and reasoning behind all that? Dang!”

The glare shot the captain’s way is nothing short of threatening. “Do not encourage him, or so help me, Wars. I can hardly contain him some days as is, he doesn’t need someone else egging him on.”

“Oh, trust me,” Gloved hands raise in a non-threatening motion. “I just want to pic his brain, maybe he can help me tutor the traveler here.”

And Twilight almost asks him not too, almost begs that the captain not, before realization hits. “You know, that is actually a good idea.” He smirks. “I’m surprised.”

The deadpan look he receives is well worth it. “You wound me.”

“Were your skin not so delicate, I wouldn’t.” He returns, smile stretching wider. “But that aside, if Wild is busy tutoring Hyrule, he won’t be off blowing things up, and if Hyrule gets a better education out of it that's even better.”

“I’ll ask him about it.” Hyrule answers, eyes lighting up in a way that looks innocent, but considering the kid is Legend’s descendant there’s a very good chance that it isn’t fully. “Maybe he can teach me some tricks while he’s at it.”

“No!” The voices ring at once, but it’s already too late, Hyrule is tapping his chin and muttering low under his breath as a wide smile stretches over his face.

“What have you started.” Twilight whispers, horrified.

“I’m sorry.” Warriors returns, just as grim. “I won’t tell Legend if you don’t.”

[not-the-teen-witch]

Daddy Issues Lucius Malfoy x Daughter! Reader

Tiktok has done its magic and my obsession with Lucius Malfoy has sparked. Or it might just be my daddy issues acting up again, who know lol. Anyways, reader is Draco’s twin, a Gryffindor, and is basically the Sirius Black of the Malfoy family. She/her pronouns used. No warnings. Though you should know this is my first fanfic after going MIA on Wattpad and Quotev for a few years whoopsies.

Takes place over the course of first year. Listen to “Daddy Issues” by the Neighbourhood while reading to set the mood. 

I might make this into a multiple part story. But not follow the scenes strictly, just random drabbles here and there?? Idk, hopefully this won’t flop lol.

Daddy Issues

You ask me what I'm thinking about I'll tell you that I'm thinking about Whatever you're thinking about Tell me something that I'll forget And you might have to tell me again It's crazy what you'll do for a friend

“Now, Y/N. Just like your brother did it. Just run straight through that brick wall, and you’ve made.” Your mother, Narcissa, says gently patting you on the back to motivate you.

You bit your lips to hide your nerves. Straight through it, huh? Oh, merlin. What if it decides I’m not good enough for it. I’ll surely make a fool out of myself. 

You grip tightly around your trolley, “Are you sur-”

“We don’t have all day now, darling. The train leaves at eleven, sharp. Enough twisting with your thumbs and get a move on.” Your father cuts you off. 

You grimace. Your relationship with your father, the oh so great Lucius Malfoy, wasn’t the best, at least at the moment. Don’t get it wrong, you’re his precious baby girl, the absolute apple of his eye, but you have a few, in his words, tweaks in your personality that his purist mindset just did not share.  

Go ahead and cry, little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you I know that you got daddy issues And if you were my little girl I'd do whatever I could do I'd run away and hide with you I love that you got daddy issues And I do too

It began when you received your Hogwarts letter on your 11th birthday earlier that summer.

“Dad! I got my letter!” You say, racing down the steps of the Malfoy Manner to see your father.

He replies from his study room with a, “Don’t run, you’ll fall, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, always so overprotective. When you reach him you wave the letter in front of him, “Look! I finally got it!”

He stops reading his book and looks up, all while shifting from his area on the velvet green armchair to make room for you. You immediately take a seat in the small space. 

“Let’s see what we have here now, shall?” You nod your head at him as he opens the letter. “Ah yes, Hogwarts. Truly shocking how they want someone with the likes of you on their grounds.”

He has a twinkly in his eye when he says this. You know he’s joking though, that’s just the interactions between you two. 

You grab his face with your hands to get his attention, “Are you going to miss me?”

“Miss you? My own and only daughter who wakes up every morning with a mission to have my hair turn grey early. Miss you, you say?”

“Dad,” you groan.

He hides a smirk, “Happy birthday, my dear. You’ll make a wonderful Slytherin and teach those mudbloods who’s in charge.” 

About that..... “Dad, no.” 

“Pardon?” 

“Stop that, don’t call them mudbloods. And what makes you so sure I’ll be put in Slytherin?”

“Ha,” he lets out a bark of laughter. “There’s never been a Malfoy that fit in any other house. That’s absurd.” 

I tried to write your name in the rain But the rain never came So I made with the sun The shame always comes at the worst time

You look down.

“Y/N.” You look back at your father. 

His grey eyes that mirror yours perfectly, look at you coldly “Don’t bring shame to the Malfoy family. Remember that.” 

You ask me what I'm thinking about I'll tell you that I'm thinking about Whatever you're thinking about Tell me something that I'll forget And you might have to tell me again It's crazy what you'll do for a friend

“Make me proud.” Your father says, right before you enter the train. 

He flashes you one of his rare, genuine smiles and kisses you on the forehead. 

You heard him, Y/N. Make father proud. 

Go ahead and cry, little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you

You find the first empty compartment you see on the train. Your brother already went off with some of the other pureblood children. And you’re not exactly fond of them. 

There’s a boy with glasses and another with red hair when you enter. 

“Ehm, hi...” You awkwardly say. 

The boy with glasses smiles at you. “Hi there.” 

“Would it be alright if I sat here?” 

“Sure, take a seat.” 

I know that you got daddy issues And if you were my little girl I'd do whatever I could do I'd run away and hide with you I love that you got daddy issues

You learn the two boys you sat with were Harry Potter and a Weasley named Ron. They were charming, although you were sure your father would disagree. Luckily you didn’t tell them your last name. Who knows what outburst that’d cause from the redhead. 

You stand next to them as students get called up to get sorted.

Your stomach feels like it’s being shaken by mountain trolls and you try to control your breathing.

“GRYFFINDOR”

“RAVENCLAW” 

“HUFFLEPUFF” 

The sorting hat continues to call out the names of the houses as the students go up, one by one. 

Your twin gets called. 

Just as Draco takes a seat, the hat doesn’t even touch his head when it yells-

“SLYTHERIN” 

Draco has a look of pride on his face. Typical. 

“As expected,” mutters Ron to you and Harry. 

“Y/N Malfoy” 

Oh dear. Your turn.

“ -wait you’re his twin?” Harry look sat you confused.

You see your twin brother flash you a thumbs up.

You ignore them both and step forward. 

“Another Malfoy I see. But you’re more interesting than the rest. Unexpected. Ambitious? Yes, very much so but there’s also bravery. Lots of it too.” The sorting hat says.

No! You’re yelling in your head. Bravery? That’s Gryffindor. Please no. Father would disown me. 

“Slytherin then? No, no no. Tell daddy he’s in for a surprise because Slytherin not fit for you. You fit in-” 

“GRYFFINDOR!” The hat exclaims.

The whole hall murmurs. “A Malfoy? Not in Slytherin?” “Gryffindor? Merlin, someone alert the Daily Prophet.” 

You get nudged towards the Gryffindor table, slowly you make your way.

 You hear a voice, “Well Fred, you know what this means.”

“I sure do, George.”

“WE GOT A MALFOY! WE GOT A MALFOY!” They chant and slowly the rest of the table begins to cheer loudly. The Slytherin’s table watches in awe. 

Your brother refuses to make eye contact with you. Your stomach drop at that.

I keep on tryin' to let you go I'm dyin' to let you know How I'm getting on I didn't cry when you left at first But now that you're dead, it hurts This time, I gotta know Where did my daddy go?

“First years! Follow me!” 

You begin to line up with the other first years. You stand near Ron and Harry. Ron gives you a suspicious look.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt out. “I should have told you I’m a Malfoy.”

“You really shou-” Ron begins to say.

“No, it’s alright.” Says Harry. “You had your reasonings. Besides the point” he give Ron a sharp look, “You’re in Gryffindor now, that’s all that matters.”

“All that matters?” Uh oh, it’s your brother. “Wait until father hears about this. He’ll be mortified. You can kiss your spot on the family tree goodbye Y/N.” He looks disgusted at you.

“Leave her alone!” A first year girl with puffy hair and large teeth says. 

“And what are you going to do about it, mudblood.”

That sits off a rage off anger in you. 

“Oh shut it you prick!” Your brother looks at you, shocked. “I’ve had enough with your bigotry. Go ahead, tell father. We all know how much you want to be his favorite child, you kiss up!” You let out a angry sigh at that. 

“Well then, keep an eye out for a letter tomorrow morning by him. How does a Howler sound?” 

The girl with the puffy hair grabs your arm. “Come on”

“You know, I think you and I will get along just great.” 

I'm not entirely here Half of me has disappeared

It had been a few days since the sorting ceremony. Classes were already in full swing. 

You became very close friends with Hermione Granger, the girl who helped you out when your brother was acting like a complete, wild ferret. However, you and her got along quite well. You two had similar interests and were very dedicated in your classes. Granted you knew a bit more than her since you were taught were carefully by your father.

Speaking of father, you haven’t heard from him yet. But there’s no doubt in your mind that Draco hasn’t sent a letter yet. 

You shake out of your thought and make your way to the great hall. You spot the Weasleys and Harry and make a bee-line to them. 

“Hey there, mate!” One of the twins nod in your direction. 

“No mail yet?” You immediately ask the lot.

“Blimey, at least eat something first before you start interrogating us.” Ron mumbles, his cheeks filled with food. 

Harry shakes his head, “Not yet, expecting a letter?” 

“You could say that.” You groan.

You grab a piece of toast and spread butter over it when you hear the sounds of the owls flying into the great hall. You quickly scan them over, keeping your eyes peeled for any Malfoy family owls.

You look over to your twin, an owl drops a package of goodies. Must be from mother, you think bitterly in your head. You didn’t get a package. 

The thought makes your stomach drop. They must know then.

“Huh, would you look at that. It’s a howler!” Percy Weasley points out.

The twins glace at you.

“Y/N....” One of the twins begin to say.

The howler drops right in front of you. Oh grandfather Abraxas, please help me.

In fancy calligraphy that you recognize very well, the name Lucius Malfoy is written. 

“So... are you going to open that?” George asks with an eyebrow raised.

“The longer you wait, the louder it’ll be. But hey this is Lucius Malfoy so you don’t really have much luck any way.” Fred jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

You hands shake as you hold it, “Should- should i open it?” 

“It’s going to burst any second, no need for that.” Harry look bewildered.

“Oh to hell with it.“ You open the letter. 

“Y/N NARCISSA MALFOY!” Your father’s voice booms, the great hall quiets down to listen in. “A GRYFFINDOR?? NEVER IN THE MALFOY FAMILY NAME HAS THIS HAPPENED BEFORE. A BLOOD TRAITOR IS WHAT YOU ARE. IT DISGUSTS ME TO CALL YOU A CHILD OF MINE.”

Your face turns an unnatural shade of red but the howler continues in a calmer voice. “My own child, my little girl. Tarnishing the family name like this. Absurd. Don’t even think about coming home this winter. And enjoying the company of Mudbloods and other blood traitors? Tsk, a shame. Such a great shame. Don’t bother sending any letters, they will immediately be discarded of.” 

The letter explodes and the only evidence that it even happened it the looks of pity you getting from the three other houses. The Slytherin table is bursting with laughter. 

“Ignore them Y/N. Not worth your time. The Slytherin gits and your father. If you could even call a man like that a dad.” Ron shakes his head.

You catch your brother’s eyes, he has a soft, sad look but quickly switches when he catches you looking. 

“Did you bloody hear that? I could never be such an embarrassment to the wizarding name.” Your brother boasts. 

Your friends try to divert your attention but all you can think of is your dad. 

No. Don’t be sad Y/N, you say to yourself. You’re meant to be a Gryffindor, and you’ll prove daddy wrong. Right? You’re a Malfoy after all. 

Go ahead and cry, little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you I know that you got daddy issues

[soramel]

Chained to you (Part 3)

genre: angst, romance, unconventional relationship warning: eventual smut A/N: cross-posted from wattpad; updates are uploaded there first

1 2 3 4

Part 3 teaser:  Looking around, Taehyung was nowhere to be seen. Although this was just a casual dinner, he could at least have the courtesy to come with you in a family gathering.

Part 3  words: 3.9k

"I can't believe you ditched me for two weeks," Sunmi complained as she finished the coffee in her cup.

She went on a surprise visit in your office as you were preparing to get off your duty.

To distract her from her rampage, you told how your mom has been doing after the accident. Then you went on how your wedding with Taehyung will push through regardless. However, you didn't tell her the full story on how that one unfolded. It was a long story to tell and you don't have time for it.

You let out a tired sigh. "I'm caught up with a lot of stuff, Sunmi," you simply uttered.

She then replied, "A text won't hurt. But I get it, fine. You're always this cold anyway," she said as she rolled her eyes.

Glancing at your watch, it's already 7 pm. "Look, I have to visit my mom before going home," you told her, sending a signal that you really have now to go.

Your mother hasn't woken up yet but the doctor said that her reflexes are getting better. The other day, when her finger moved, relief washed through you. It's a little progress but it meant a lot. It gave you hope.

"And when are we going out again?" Sunmi asked, with a glint of hope in her eyes. You cleared your throat as you contemplated whether you should join her in one of her parties or not. The last time, she got you in deep trouble.

Sunmi wore her puppy eyes as she stalked towards you, "Please? I'm stressed because of my boss. I want to go out again with you!"

"Sunmi, I can't party all the time," you retorted.

"You speak as if you go to parties with me so often! It was just that night when I managed to get you that drunk," she complained. You laughed at her reasoning.

She then pouted, "You're a fun drunk... or I think you're really fun if you just let loose without alcohol."

"Being drunk is not fun. I'll think about it. If I'm free, I'll go with you," you resigned just to get her off your back.

You both headed out of your office then your bodyguard muttered something silently as he held his earpiece. Sunmi was taken aback by his presence.

"You have a bodyguard now?" she asked as you both headed towards the lift. You were used to having Saeho follow you around and learned to ignore him. Now that Sunmi pointed it out, you became conscious as you conversed with your friend.

Nodding back at her, you said, "For safety, according to Taehyung."

She chuckled back at that, "More like for him to keep track of you."

"I have to meet him someday, you know," she added, "If he looks as bad as you were saying, I could do something about it."

You bit your lip at her rambling.

She turned to you excitedly, "Oh, I have this model friend of mine, I can hook you up with him,"

"Sunmi..." you uttered, giving her a warning to shut up.

She raised her brow, "What? I can't let you get hooked by some rich SOB. I'll disown you."

"Or is he a DOM?" she asked boldly as she took your left hand near her face, observing the ring again.

Her question made you scrunch your forehead in confusion.

"Dom?" you asked.

She nodded back as she lets go of your hand, "Dom. Dirty old man."

The elevator doors opened at the lobby floor. You slowly walked out with her by your side and with your security behind you.

"A lot of them are driving in a fancy sports car. He exactly fits the description you gave me. Plus that kind of ring?" she took a deep breath and shivered.

At that, you purse your lips. You're sure the man behind you heard that, you just hope that this won't get to Taehyung's knowledge.

"I didn't tell you he's old. We're of the same age," you defended, trying to save yourself.

"Oh,"

"Are you coming with me? I can drop you off somewhere," you offered as you come out of the revolving door.

"Nah, I have my car down the street. I'll see you soon, okay?" she said, with threat in her eyes.

Just in time, a familiar black Benz rolled off in front of you.

Shortly after, Taehyung emerged from the driver's side. Surprise was evident in your eyes as you watched him walk his way towards you. He was casually dressed in a dark green sweater and brown trousers.

"Too bad, you're taken huh?" Sunmi whispered beside you. She was also ogling at him. For some reason, a blush crept up in your cheeks.

You were flustered as to how to handle the situation at hand, but firstly, you wonder what he's doing here.

"Let's go?" he casually asked as he stopped in front of you.

Sunmi is now watching you two with disbelief in her eyes. She looked at you then at Taehyung's hand which he nonchalantly reached out to yours, taking your hand in his. Sunmi noticed the rings you both were sporting.

You gulped as you watched her dumbfounded reaction.

"You liar," she muttered accusingly.

Taehyung turned his head to your friend, "Pardon?" he said, his voice sounded distant.

Before the situation gets out of hand, you decide to come clean. "Sunmi, this is Taehyung. Taehyung, she's my friend, Sunmi."

He looked like he didn't care, so you proceeded, "I have to go now, Sunmi."

She nodded back but it looked like she's out of it.

Taehyung then ushered you to the passenger side.

Once you were both inside the car, he shifted gear after glancing at the rearview mirror. You saw Saeho getting in your SUV as they pulled in a convoy.

#

"I'm meeting your father in the hospital," Taehyung simply told you while navigating through the bustling city.

"And I have to talk to you about the wedding,"

What? Is he backing out for real?

Your pride was crushed again at the thought of him abhorring being with you.

"My secretary booked a venue already. We can accommodate up to a hundred guests," you told him.

His forehead scrunched at the information, "Make it 300."

You were relieved at what he said but more so it made you scoff. You already think that a hundred was too much but given that you also have to invite some of your dad's colleagues, you and Jae settled on a hundred guests.

Also, you don't want a grand wedding that will be difficult to top off once you have your real one.

"300 is too much," you muttered, holding your tongue in your cheek.

"Aren't we having it in Waldorf? Your hotel? We can hold more guests if that's the case."

"Send me your list and I'll take a look at it," he added.

He made it clear that he's not into details. Why is he making a fuss about it now? But knowing the reason behind that was beyond you.

At the stoplight, he fumbled with the dashboard and browsed through his contacts. He stopped at one particular name and pressed call.

The person picked up after a few rings.

"Mr. Kim!" a voice of a man which sounded too girly for a baritone one was heard from the other line.

Taehyung smiled and greeted, "Charles, I have something for you."

"What is it? A yacht party? or do you want it on a ferry like the last one? I heard you're getting married!" the man named Charles rambled on the phone, his voice sounded more excited than before.

You watched Taehyung in disbelief.

"It might be too late to inform the guests about that. We're having it at Waldorf," he replied.

"Oh," Charles' voice sounded a bit disappointed, but he quickly recovered.

"In Incheon! That will be fine. What's your target date?"

"The soonest,"

Charles didn't even falter as he quickly asked, "Number of guests?"

"Three hundred?"

"A grand one! Make it a thousand!" your jaw dropped at where this conversation is going. You glared at Taehyung beside you who were having too much fun.

The traffic moved forward and you huffed in your seat.

"Make this event worthwhile for your portfolio. My wife is pretty chill with the details," you heard him say, his tone sounding mockful at the last sentence.

"Oh, thank you! Let me work my magic!"

"Alright, I'll give your number to her secretary. He's handling these kinds of things for her."

"Sure sure! Do that! Best wishes on your marriage!"

When the call ended, you threw him an irritated glance. "We already arranged things. Jae will be very disappointed," you glumly told him. He just threw your secretary's hardwork out of the window!

"I'm just making sure," he shrugged. There are times when Taehyung is bearable but this bossy and arrogant side of him ticks you off in all places.

"Then you should have volunteered earlier so I didn't have to go through all that fuss!"

"Your secretary is doing it all for you anyway and how sure are you that he can pull this thing off?"

"He's working with a wedding planner,"

"Charles is much more experienced. He hosts my mom's parties."

He then threw you a quick glance before letting out a chuckle. "You're so cute when you're mad," he uttered before biting his lower lip.

The remark only irritated you more. You badly want to strangle him using his seatbelt. If it were not for your dear life. It was a bad call. You cannot live with this man with this kind of attitude.

Taehyung rubbed you off the wrong way that night. You were pissed off that you ended up giving him a silent treatment. After arriving in your mom's suite, he and your dad went outside for a talk. For what is that all about, you didn't care.

"Mom..." you blurted out with longing in your voice. You blinked rapidly to stop your tears from falling. She looked frail lying on the hospital bed. Your mother was always radiant and looked best. Seeing her getting thinner as time goes by breaks your heart.

"Everything's fine. I'm handling things well with the board," you ran your hand on her head, gently giving her comforting pats. At least, the machines attached to her lessened.

"But you should wake up soon, okay?"

After some time, the two gentlemen walked back into the room. You stood up to face your father. He's been so busy that you barely had time to see each other despite him living in the same house.

"We can go home together if you'd like," you offered him.

He shook his head in response, "I still have a lot of paperwork to do."

This one made you frown, "Dad, please don't neglect your health," you told him, irritation laced in your voice. He might have been overwhelmed now that your mother is not there to help him. On your end, you're doing everything you can to keep your company afloat.

"We don't have enough time before the campaign starts. I'm making sure everything is well-prepared,"

You let out a sigh, "Alright. If I can do anything for you, let me know."

He let out a tired smile as he told you, "You're doing more than enough, Y/n."

Then your dad turned to Taehyung and said, "Drive her home, please. It will make me more at ease."

Taehyung nodded gently but you protested, "Dad, I have Saeho so you don't have to worry."

"It's fine. We'll get going now, sir," Taehyung retaliated, you sent him a glare but he just ignored it. Fine, he's the one getting tired anyway.

You then turned to your mother and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, "I love you, mom. I'll see you tomorrow," you whispered.

The whole car ride was silent. You chose to sleep on the way home instead of keeping him company. When the car turned into a halt, you woke up just in time to see that you'd arrived. The porch is dimly lit and the mansion looked sad.

Without a word, you simply unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbed your bag, then climbed out of the car. Taehyung climbed out too as your door slam shut.

"Y/n," the stern in his voice made you look back at him. He quickly sauntered to your side.

With furrowed brows he asked, "What's wrong with you?"

You purse your lips as you answered, "Nothing."

He clicked his tongue before answering, "You're acting like a bitch."

Your mouth fell agape at his statement. It painted your face red and you're now fuming mad at him. You pushed his shoulder back harshly but he stood in place. "Asshole. Get lost," you told him, irritation filled your tone.

He quickly grabbed your wrist before you could walk away, sending you stumbling into his chest.

"I won't tolerate this kind of behavior so you tell me what's wrong," his words dripped off like acid, almost scaring you.

You gulped then averted your eyes from his piercing gaze.

He tilted his head to the side, chasing your eyes but you couldn't bear to look at him.

He threw your secretary's hardwork off the window. That means he also threw your work away. Every output that Jae and the wedding planner has, it went through your approval. You would extend outside working hours choosing the catering, flowers, theme colors. You're also about to meet your designer for your wedding gown. Almost everything is settled according to your taste and Jae helped out in filtering down the list you can choose from.

But you would burrow your own hole first before Taehyung would know that you became pretty much hands-on in this affair.

You're not supposed to care, but at the end of the day, it's still your wedding.

"Y/n," he called out for the second time, his voice much more irritated than before.

You let out a resigned sigh, "I'm just tired," you told him dismissively.

You pulled your hand back out of his grip but Taehyung won't let go.

"Tae," you whined.

Your eyes grew a fraction when his eyes darkened in response. You didn't mean to call him that. You wet your lips before uttering, "It's getting late, you should go ahead."

But he didn't understand what you said. His whole attention was focused on your inviting lips, he hated to admit it but he still thought of that night he had with you, under his sheets.

Taehyung held your chin in between his forefinger and thumb, tilting your head up a bit. Before you could even react, he placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

Your eyes widened out of surprise, but you were still deep rooted to the ground.

He bit his lip as he watched for your reaction. "I'm sorry, I just missed you," he muttered. "Are we okay now?" he asked after. Taehyung then casually placed both his hands on your sides.

"I don't like that you're interfering with the preparations," you started,

"You should have taken the task before I handed it to Jae so he doesn't have to work extra for it."

Taehyung nodded in understanding.

"And he knows what I like, that's why I trusted him with that," you added.

Irritation flashed in his eyes but it was gone before you knew it. He let out a sigh, "Just have him work with Charles instead. Charles will make it better."

You purse your lips while contemplating on the compromise he offered.

"I don't want a grand wedding. Make sure he doesn't overstep, my preference will be followed according to what Jae picks. "

There was hesitance in his eyes before replying, "Your taste. Noted. But having it grand..."

"Taehyung," you called sternly. You cannot believe you're arguing with this kind of stuff with him. "Grand is not my taste," you retaliated.

He threw a smirk at your statement, "Coming from you, princess," he said looking at you from head to toe. He smiled at his own realization so he nodded, "Okay. I'll tell Charles about it."

You furrowed your brows at him, adjusting your gaze on his face as he seemed closer, "And don't call me princess. I hate it."

His smile grew which confused you. Is there something funny at what I said?

"I'm serious."

Taehyung nodded as he closed his eyes and let out a shuddered breath. You failed to notice that throughout the argument, he managed to pull you close to him. His hands were now encircling your waist.

Placing your hands on his chest, you took a step back, pushing him away.

"I'll go now," you finally said before turning your back on him and climbing up the porch.

#

After a shower, you dialed up Hoseok, your private investigator.

"Any leads?" you asked the man on the other side of the line. He made you use another phone just to make sure no one will rat you out when you're investigating everything on your own.

"The man knew the route he's taking. He managed to hide his face from the cctv cameras until he disappeared in the crowd in Myeongdong," he reported. It made you feel frustrated and cornered.

"So what now?"

"On the other hand, I found something interesting, Ms. Y/n."

"The cops are playing russian roulette with your father's potential opponents," he started.

Your brows furrowed at the stupidity of their action, "That will be a long list and how will they know?"

"I'm curious myself, here's more,"

"The Kims are doing things on their own. I just can't identify the path they're taking but from what I gathered they're looking at a different angle in this case. I have a hunch they're misleading the police with information while they figure things out."

That's impossible, you thought to yourself. With an inhale, you told Hoseok, "That's too far off, don't you think? They're the closest family friend we have, I doubt they'll do that."

"I'm not saying they're doing a bad thing, Ms. Y/n. It could be that or there's a beneficial reason for your end for them to mislead the police. I don't know if your dad knows about this. If he knows then your family is safe, if he doesn't..."

Then the worst thing happened. The situation piqued your curiosity, but you couldn't afford to talk to your father yet. There's a ceasefire, but you're not yet at ease to have a serious talk with him regarding the Kims.

"With that, I'm asking for your cooperation. You have to find it out yourself, Ms. Y/n. While I'll try to infiltrate the Kims to get my hands on this one. But that won't be easy,"

Hoseok's right. They own the most trusted security system company in Korea, how long will that take for Hoseok?

"I'm getting married soon, Hoseok, can you at least dig something out before that?"

The man laughed at the question. "I hate to admit this, but your marriage may help you infiltrate to get some info. You know how the Kims are," he replied, dropping the formalities.

You don't like the unspoken idea of Hoseok. Getting in too deep might-- you held on that thought and quickly erased it off your head. You'll just make sure everything falls into its rightful place.

#

The wedding was a grand affair. You hated it. You sent death glares to your secretary when you saw the filled banquet hall. The look in your eyes made Jae pull you aside and explain. According to him, this was the best he could do, he already made a lot of compromise with Charles. Your initially approved designs, everything, went through in exchange of making it a three-day event.

It kicked off with a laid-back welcome party on a Friday night.

"I thought it's just a family dinner," you muttered under your breath.

Jae pursed his lips. Suddenly nervous at the hysteric in your voice trying to lash out.

"Well, the country is a family to your father," he whispered in an attempt to reason his way out.

"You could have at least told me. You know I hate being surprised like this. I'm..." the sentence trailed off with a sigh from your mouth.

"I know, but I couldn't bother you with things like this. You were occupied enough with the board. Just pull yourself together for the night. Let tomorrow deal with itself,"

He's right. You thought to yourself. Looking around, Taehyung was nowhere to be seen. Although this was just a casual dinner, he could have the courtesy to at least make an effort to come with you in a family gathering.

You walked to your father with all of the composure you've gathered. Seeing him socialize nonchalantly with his colleagues, you tried gaining his attention by intently looking at him. You sent him a grim smile when he caught you walking up to their group.

"Y/n!"

A three-day wedding. Tonight is just a welcome party. Tomorrow will be the main event with all the ceremony and two receptions. Then a farewell brunch on the third to top off your misery.

"Dad," you greeted once reaching the group. As if on cue, you leaned towards him to kiss him on the cheek. Then turned to his colleagues afterwards for a curt bow.

The gentlemen said their congratulations followed by an inquiry where your fiance at. In which you smoothly replied, "He'd be here soon, I just went ahead to talk to my father. So, if you'll excuse us,"

The old man followed your steps after giving his colleagues a glance.

"What's the matter?" he asked once out of their earshot.

He didn't miss the hesitation that flashed in your eyes as you tried to come up with an excuse. You just used him to save yourself earlier. His lips pursed into a grim line.

Putting a hand on your arm, he told you, "Why don't you go up your room first and call him? His parents are somewhere in this crowd already. I was with them earlier."

You then nodded in resignation. Then silently waded your way out of the crowd, ignoring the casual glances being thrown at you.

Once out of the banquet hall, you took a right turn without much paying attention. To your surprise, you saw Taehyung talking to a woman. This made you step back and hide yourself against the wall, clutching your purse close to your chest.

Then a thought came to mind, why am I hiding?

"I'd call you. Don't show up like this," your fiance uttered in a low voice you've never heard before.

That's why. Because they looked like star-crossed lovers hiding from the villains. And you were one of them. In their story, you are. Even though it was just a blink, their closeness made you tread back.

The situation made you smirk.

The raging thoughts disabled you from hearing what his lover was saying but you caught on, "- are you kidding me?" the lady asked in a sarcastic voice.

"I have a lot of things on my plate right now, Lana. Please..."

Their exchange made you sick. It felt like you shouldn't be there right now, so you turned away.

But you didn't want to go back to the party. Heck, you don't even like the situation you're in right now.

With the fire exit to the opposite end of the hall, you harshly pushed on the door and went down the stairs. Until you found yourself in the basement parking.

[ickle-ronniekins]

just friends

request from anon: I desperately need a fake dating trope with our fav Georgie boy with a cutie Gryffindor girl <333 pls?!

word count: 6.7k holy hell mates

A/N: WAIT OMG i’m obsessed with fake dating trope stories—they’re so cute! and i’ve never written any before! i don’t think, at least lmao. thank you for blessing me with this request, am so excited, also sorry i got a tad carried away

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover | message me if you’d like to be added!

“Quick! Hide me!”

George Weasley normally doesn’t mind the fame, if you will, that comes with being part of the most well-known duo Hogwarts has ever seen.

In fact, he welcomes the attention. Maybe not as much as Fred, but he welcomes it, nonetheless.

That is, until a boisterous Ravenclaw is doing everything in her power to grab his attention. How many times can he possibly tell her, in the nicest way possible, that he doesn’t fancy her?

Maybe being nice, Fred explains to him, isn’t the way to go. He doesn’t need to be rude, but he needs to be aggressive—or, blatantly obvious in a way that she won’t be able to ignore. Why can he not seem to shake this girl? She’s undeniably obsessed, Ron laughs one day, as George does his best to push his headache away, his eyes tired from constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure that feisty Ravenclaw is nowhere to be found. He was finding it harder than usual to concentrate in classes—and not in a good way.

George is used to the teasing by now—from his brothers, from Ginny, from Harry, from you—the friendly, fellow Gryffindor prankster—giving Fred and George a run for their money.

He ducks closer to you when he spots her peering, and you nearly choke on your soup during the feast, as the Ravenclaw twirls her hair, watching George with what can only be described as googly eyes.

“Oh dear,” you begin sarcastically, elbowing George next to you, “someone’s in rare form tonight.”

“Ha-ha,” he replies sarcastically as he shifts in his seat uncomfortably, doing his best to block her out by adjusting himself so that Ron’s head covers her face. She notices this, and schooches over in her seat, until George is in her line of view again.

“Merlin’s beard,” he says through gritted teeth, looking down at his food, “I laugh at one of her jokes one time and she can’t seem to let it go.”

“These girls are crazy,” Ron says as he sips on his pumpkin juice, only to receive death glares from you, Hermione, and Ginny. “I—I mean, just that girl—not all women—” he uncomfortably clears his throat and smiles, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of scarlet.

“Have you tried landing yourself in detention more often than not?” Seamus Finnegan pipes up, “in me own experiences, girls don’t fancy a lad who’s always getting scolded,”

George shakes his head. “The more outrageous the prank, the more brutal the scolding, the more obsessed she becomes,” he tells you all begrudgingly, “I can’t bloody take it anymore.”

As the feast ends, George’s admirer stands up, eyeing him curiously, ready to make her move, yet again—but he finds himself scurrying out of the Great Hall as fast as possible—he’s flying up the staircase and it doesn’t even register with him that he’s not breathing until he enters the common room and lets out a huge sigh of relief. Only narrowly escaped that Ravenclaw, he did. He’s resting in an armchair as the rest of you wander inside a few minutes later, laughing at the flustered sight of him.

George doesn’t know what he’s going to do to get this girl off of his back. It seems as though he’s tried everything.

Unless?

A solution pops into his head very late at night whilst laying in bed, staring up at the curtains of his four poster in the darkness. He jumps up, checks his watch, and groans when he sees the time. In the bed next to his, Fred is sprawled out over his bedsheets, snoring quite loudly as if to say, I’m having a lovely sleep, thank you! George sucks in a breath and lays back down—his mind now swimming with ideas, his smile cheeky, his eyes widened. If this doesn’t give her the hint that he’s not interested, he doesn’t know what will.

It’ll just have to wait until morning, he supposes.

— -

“Y/N!”

You jump a little, not expecting to hear your name yelled across the Great Hall so very early in the morning. George spots you from the entrance, and after making sure there are no other unwanted guests around, he calls out to you and rushes toward the table.

“Hi, George,” you begin, smirking a bit, “you’re up early for someone who has a free period.”

“Needed to catch you before your Herbology lesson,” he places himself across from you and pours himself a bit of coffee—it’s aware to you now that he still needs a little bit of a pick me up. “I need your help.”

“Ah,” you reply and clap your hands together. “The time was quickly approaching—I’m in need of a good prank, you know! It’s been a bit since I’ve gotten involved in a bit of mischief, classes have been so bloody draining lately—so what were you thinking?”

George laughs at this. He does admire your sense of adventure and your equal love of pranking, but no. That isn’t what this is about. He sucks in a breath as he shakes his head, eyeing your curious look before opening his mouth again.

“I think I’ve figured out a way to get… you know who,” he eyes the Ravenclaw table suspiciously, “off of my back.”

You gasp audibly, bringing a hand to cover your mouth as your eyes widen. “Blimey, Georgie—you know who? Why didn’t you tell me that Volde—”

George nearly spits out his coffee due to a snort. Thank goodness he doesn’t. “Ha-ha, anyone ever tell you you’re absolutely hilarious?” He sinks into his seat and rubs his hands over his eyes, as if to brush away tears from laughing too hard. He then continues, after a bit of a laughing fit, “She just needs a push in a different direction, is all.”

You furrow your brow in confusion and bite into a piece of bacon. “And you need my help for that?”

“Precisely,” George tells you, scooping some eggs onto his plate. “Just hear me out.”

“That’s not a great way to start things out, you know.”

He scoffs and then grins cheekily at you. Then, he says, “You need to pretend to go out with me.”

You nearly choke on your piece of toast. “I beg your pardon?” you ask, completely stunned by his request. As you begin to laugh, George feels his insides tighten, and he wants to say, What the bloody hell is the big deal? but instead, he waits, and ends up laughing too.

“Oh, George,” you say after regaining your composure, spreading some more butter onto your toast, “you’re a riot, you are.”

When he doesn’t answer, but instead licks his lips impatiently and takes another sip of coffee and peers at you, as if waiting for your answer, you freeze.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“You’re bloody right I am.”

“So you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend so she’ll end up stalking me too?”

The two of you erupt into a fit of laughter. Then he peers solemnly at you with wide eyes, as if to beg. “Pleaaaase, Y/N?”

You eye him suspiciously. “What’s in it for me?”

He scoffs again. “Extra time spent with me,” a loud crunch comes from his mouth when he bites into his piece of toast, and he winks. “I know you can’t get enough.”

You snort. “Don’t flatter yourself, Weasley.”

He picks up his cup of coffee, holds it up across the table to you and asks before you have time to think things through, “We have a deal?”

You roll your eyes at this gesture, but he’s patiently waiting for you to agree. What will this mean, exactly—pretending to date one another? You’re about to ask him, but it’s almost as if you know—it won’t last long. Soon she’ll get the hint, and the shenanigans can end. You go against your better judgement, acting on the very fearlessness that landed you in Gryffindor house to begin with, pick up your cup of tea and clink it with his. Feeling very pleased with himself, he leans back in his chair and grins cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You narrow your eyes and say, “Fine—but only because you’ve asked so nicely.”

Just then, you both notice a giggling gaggle of Ravenclaws enter the Great Hall, and George is already feeling his insides begin to swirl nervously. He’s doing things before he can even fully register what���s going on—

He leans across the table and takes a chunk out of the piece of bacon you’re currently also biting into, his face just inches from yours. You nearly choke on it due to surprise of how close he is to you, and he can’t help but begin to laugh, yet again. Always laughing with you, he is. “Erm—excuse me! Eat your own breakfast, you git!”

Just then, you notice her eyes flicker back and forth very quickly between the two of you, before she slowly passes you both by on her way to the Ravenclaw table, careful to listen to whatever the two of you are speaking about.

George can hardly contain his nerves, but figures he might as well get started on this fake dating thing. The sooner she leaves him alone, the better off he’ll be, “Love it when you talk sweetly to me, darling.”

— -

“You two’re out of your bloody mind.”

Fred does not hold back his laughter later that evening when George divulges your plans. The unmistakable sound of Ron snorting bounces off of the walls in the common room, and he turns red in the face.

“You two? You two?”

“What?” you and George chorus together. George continues explaining to the younger redhead across from him, “It’s perfect—we’re best mates already, and we’re all in a bunch of the same classes together—maybe this will finally give her the hint,”

“It’s not going to work.” Ron replies, looking rather amused. He shoots you a look.

“Well, can’t make any promises, of course,” you tell the lot, “but I reckon we put in the work, it’s bound to fix the problem eventually.”

Ron, Harry and Fred continue to roar with laughter in the common room. “She will never fall for that!”

“Why not?” George asks a bit angrily. He’s nervous now—if this plan doesn’t work, he doesn’t know what the bloody hell he’s going to do. Transfer to a school on the moon, at this point.

“Because,” Ron starts, holding back a snort, “Y/N’s Y/N and you’re—you.”

You and George glance at one another, and then back at Ron. The common room is now buzzing with chatter and gossip and it’s becoming hard for everyone to focus on the conversation. “Meaning?”

“I dunno,” Harry pipes up. “You guys just don’t really look like you’d be a couple.”

“Exactly,” Fred agrees, “you’re too—close. Friendly. You’re just.. friends,” he leans back casually in his chair with his hands behind his head, “it wouldn’t work. But, by all means—” he puts his hands up in surrender, chuckling before he continues, “—go for it and embarrass yourselves. I’m in a good need of a laugh.”

— -

Charms is, by far, George’s favorite class at Hogwarts. If he could take that and only that, he reckons he would. But with Little Miss Obsessed on the other end of the corridor, watching him as if her life depends on it, he can’t help but count down the seconds until the lesson is over—or, at least, the seconds until you get here.

You walk up next to him, finally, with Fred on his other side. “Morning, you two,” you tell them through a yawn. Your few cups of tea haven’t seemed to help your exhaustion from the night before—multiple games of exploding snap and copious amounts of butterbeer until the late hours of the evening did not do you good. You lean against the wall and close your eyes. “Are we awake yet?”

“Morning, Y/N!” Fred says brightly, patting you on the shoulder, waiting for Professor Flitwick to arrive and open the door to the classroom.

“Merlin, Fred, it is far too early to be this bloody excited about anything.”

Next to you, George laughs sleepily and nudges you with his elbow.

“Oh,” Fred replies. You can hear the smirk and mischief in his voice, even with your eyes half closed, “I just thought you’d be more excited to see your boyfriend this morning.”

This certainly wakes you up. You jump slightly and peer at George, who’s rather alert now, as well. You’d almost forgotten. Nearing closer to the classroom entrance, you eye the Ravenclaw, who’s watching you both very suspiciously and whispering to her cronies around her. Before any of you can register what’s happening, you lean over and place a kiss onto George’s cheek.

Fred stifles a laugh, Flitwick is opening the classroom door, the Ravenclaw is fuming, but all George can focus on is what just happened. Through gritted teeth and a very cheeky smile he’s trying his hardest to suppress, he asks you, “What the bloody hell was that?”

“Just abiding by the rules of your request,” you whisper back, grinning at him. “If she’s going to think we’re a couple, we better act like it, haven’t we?”

George hadn’t really thought about this—embracing you, kissing you, holding your hand. If he was being honest, he didn’t think about it because everyone had already mistakenly taken you two for a couple just a few months prior, when all you two had been doing is exactly what you’d done all along—be friends. He kind of just assumed the same thing would happen.

“Right,” he says, the heat of the fleeting moment dying down. “Yeah, of course.”

The three of you waltz into the classroom and take your seats near the middle, with the Ravenclaw sitting a few rows ahead, trying her hardest to peer stealthily over her shoulder at the two of you. It seems as though she’s definitely noticed something.

Flitwick begins the lesson and you lazily lean your head against George’s shoulder, sticking the back end of your quill in your mouth and listening as Flitwick tells you the desired page to turn to in your textbooks. Teasingly, George asks, “What am I—your pillow now?”

You turn to peer up at him. In a low voice you tell him, “If I’m going to be your fake girlfriend, you’re going to let me lean on you when I’m sleepy. Deal?”

You turn your focus back toward the front of the class and George can’t help but smile at you, shaking his head in admiration. He slings an arm around you and props himself into a more comfortable position.

“Okay, then. Deal.”

— -

George is now finding it incredibly easy to pretend to be your “boyfriend”. The hand holding, constant embracing, and laughing into oblivion seems to come naturally—it doesn’t even feel strange to him, and he’s amused to see that you’re taking it the same way. Probably because you got on so well with one another before all of these shenanigans started. Right?

While his admirer’s persistence has seemed to die down a bit, she still winds up watching and cornering him in corridors from time to time—but it’s easier with you arm in arm with him. She doesn’t linger too long, or continue to flirt obnoxiously with him. It seems as though your plan is working. Now, if only she can find a significant other of her own to pay attention too—

You’re sitting in Transfiguration, working on the bird conjuring charm you’d been dying to perfect in your free time whilst McGonagall steps outside for a moment to meet with Professor Sprout, and you’re doing your best to ignore the glares from the other end of the classroom.

“How d’you reckon the plan is working out?” Fred asks you both.

“Well, she’s certainly not as persistent,” George tells his twin in a low voice, eyeing the Ravenclaw stealthily across the classroom, “but I’m not sure she’s entirely convinced.”

You break your focus on the charm and turn toward the twins. “Reckon she will soon.”

“Yeah?” they chorus together.

“Yeah,” you reply, picking up your wand, not giving them any further information.

Fred crosses his arms and looks at you quizzically. When you neglect to continue, he asks with a twinge of sarcasm to his voice, “And how, may I ask, do you know this?”

You stifle a laugh and practice your flourishing movements without conjuring the charm. “—‘cause.. she’s just got to, hasn’t she? I’m telling you—we keep this up for a bit longer, and she’ll forget all about you. Mark my words.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Avis,”

A puff of smoke emits from your wand, along with a loud blasting sound, and then a flock of birds twitters in front of you and you stand up straighter in front of your desk, feeling extremely pleased with yourself.

“Bloody hell,” Fred and George say together, peering admiringly at the flock of birds you’d managed to conjure. George continues, “That is N.E.W.T Level stuff you’re doing, Y/N!” He picks you up and spins you around, your hair flying into your eyes. You’re weightless to him. When he places you back down gingerly on your feet, he brushes the hair gently out of your face and says, “You’re brilliant, you are.”

Breathlessly, you answer him, “Thanks,”

His hand is still in your hair, his fingers delicately brushing your cheek. George can suddenly feel his insides tighten and his face go rosy—but why?

The entire world seems to stop around you both. It’s as if nobody else exists.

Thankfully, though, when both of you snap back to reality at the sound of McGonagall re-entering the classroom, you both see that nobody else has seemed to notice your small intimate moment.

You pull nervously at the edges of your sleeves and take your seat again next to George, who is running a hand through his hair. When he turns to look at Fred, who must’ve noticed this small exchange, George is relieved to see that there’s no cocky or amused expression on his face—he’s merely pouting due to the continuation of the Transfiguration lesson.

— -

The weather is surprisingly warm for a winter day. George is seated up against a tree near the water’s edge, fiddling with something in his hands—an invention, no doubt—when you plop down next to him with a slight groan.

“Long day?”

“Why in the hell did I decide to take Double Herbology?” you whine, letting your bag sink into the ground next to you. You place your head into your hands, grinding your knuckles into your temples to rid yourself of your headache. You elbow him slightly, “How come you didn’t stop me?”

George laughs, looking back down at this knick knack in his hands yet again. “You were pretty adamant about taking doubles,” he recalls, thinking back to when you’d originally picked these few classes, “don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, well,” you begin, breathing in the smell of the sweet air, picking at the grass in between your fingers, “I suppose it was sort of a silly decision, wasn’t it? I’m bloody exhausted.”

Up near the castle, Ron spots you two and is about to run down to join you both, when Fred tugs on his robes and holds him back, nearly choking him. “Oi!” he exclaims, turning back toward his older brother. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

“Before we all head down there to join the lovebirds,” Fred begins, grinning cheekily at Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny, “I’d like to pick your brains.”

“About what?” Ginny and Hermione ask together.

“Well, precisely what I’ve just said,” Fred tells them, leaning against the entrance of the castle, his bag slung over his shoulder. “The lovebirds.”

Ron and Harry glance at Fred quizzically. “What about them?”

“I’m starting to believe this whole fake dating nonsense isn’t really fake at all.”

Harry laughs at the site of Ron’s agape mouth, when Ginny just shakes her head at her older brother. “You’re off your rocker, Fred. No way they’re really together. They would’ve told us, no?”

Fred crosses his arms. “I’m not so sure of that.”

Harry asks him, “How d’you reckon?”

“I was watching them in Transfiguration the other day,” Fred begins to tell them, watching to make sure the two of you are still out of earshot. “We were all chatting whilst McGonagall needed to step out, Y/N was doing some really advanced type of magic—N.E.W.T Level,”

Still, Ron’s jaw is dropped. He’s seemingly impressed. “Blimey—really?”

“Not the point of the story, Ronniekins.”

Ron turns a bright shade of pink and goes very silent at everyone’s slight snickers. Fred continues, “Anyway—we were all talking about how this plan of theirs was unfolding—to be honest with you, I haven’t seen much of that Ravenclaw around, but George swears she’s still pining over him. So, Y/N does this really advanced charm and George nearly topples over, picks her up and spins her around—you know,” he turns toward his brother and sister, “like those scenes in those silly Muggle movies mum watches. Then, everything went really quiet between the two of them, and they were just—looking at one another, for a really long time.”

Hermione asks, “Like how, exactly?”

Fred thinks on this for a moment. Then he replies, running a hand through his hair, “Like they’re in love.”

Ginny narrows her eyes. “So? Doesn’t mean they’re actually in love. I mean.. they are supposed to be acting like a couple—that’s the point of all of this.”

“So,” Fred says, ignoring everything else Ginny has just mentioned, “I’ve got a plan.”

Ginny turns toward Hermione, “Never a good sign.”

Fred nudges his sister playfully through bits of hearty laughter from the group. “I think we should slip them both a love potion—see if anything changes—if it does, we know they truly are faking. I’ve got the antidote all ready to go.”

“A love potion?” Harry asks.

“Those pink bottles you’ve got all over your room at home?” Ron adds.

“Yes,” Fred says brightly. “Admittedly—it’ll probably be one of our most popular inventions in due time. But Merlin, they are dangerous—you know, when it comes to love, and all that.”

After nearly everyone agrees, Fred begins to put his plan into action—when it will happen, the time of day, just exactly how they’re going to pull it off—when Hermione decides to interject her opinion.

“Nothing’s going to change, you know.”

Ron nearly drops his bag onto the ground. “D’you know something we don’t?”

Hermione laughs. “No, of course not, but—well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” But clearly, it isn’t quite as obvious as it should be. “They’re already in love!”

Before Ron, Ginny, and Harry can interject their thoughts and objections, Fred turns toward her and says, “Cheers, Hermione.”

“You agree, do you?”

“I do,” Fred replies, now focusing his attention on the two of you down by the lake. It seems to him, he realizes, that while your love may be obvious to some, it’s the two of you that are completely oblivious. He watches as you sink back into George’s chest, his arm slung around your shoulder as you both continue to laugh animatedly about something. Fred points and says, ”Just look at them, would you! D’you see the Ravenclaw anywhere near here? No.”

“Fred,” Harry begins, “if you think they’re faking, then why in the bloody hell d’you want to waste a love potion on them?”

Fred just smiles evilly. “So it’ll be easier to get them to just admit it already.”

— -

“Okay then—enough homework for one evening, I’m absolutely knackered,” you tell the twins, folding up the parchment of your Potions essay and slipping it carefully into your bag, “you two coming back to the common room?”

“Yeah, in a bit,” Fred says, a look of absolute disgust on his face as he flips through his spell book, “this assignment is a right pain in the—”

He stops himself when he notices Madam Pince in the corner, eyeing him suspiciously. You ask them both, “You sure you don’t need any help?”

“Nah, that’s alright, I know you’re exhausted,” George tells you, appreciative of all the help you’ve given them already. “You go on.. we’ll meet you before you head off to bed.”

“Alright,” you reply sweetly, leaning in to place a featherlight kiss to his cheek. His hair at the nape of his neck feels so soft beneath your fingertips, “See you later.”

The Ravenclaw at the next table, Fred notices, isn’t quite as angry at this exchange as she would have been a few weeks ago. Has everything truly been working in their favor?

But George hardly notices—he just looks back down at his bit of parchment and continues to work on his conclusion, trying very, very hard, in Fred’s opinion, to suppress a grin. It’s rather noticeable alongside the cherry red color of his cheeks.

Only a few minutes pass by of silence between the twins before Madam Pince is hurrying everyone out of the library. The group of Ravenclaws make their way, albeit slightly reluctantly, to the opposite end of the castle toward their common room. George has never been so happy to be heading up to bed.

“Oi, Georgie,” Fred begins as they trudge through the corridors, “how long d’you reckon this thing between you and Y/N is going to last?”

“Dunno,” George tells his twin truthfully through a yawn. His four poster is so close, just a few more corridors to get through… “Until that Ravenclaw stops showing up everywhere I go, I suppose.”

Fred snorts at this comment. “Well, you can’t help class, mate.”

“Yeah, but, I mean everywhere else.”

Fred tugs on his brother’s robes and gets him to stop right before the entrance to the common room.

“C’mon, just be straight with me,”

George just glances at him with a confused look.

“About Y/N,” Fred prods.

“What about her?”

“You may be fooling everyone else, but you’re not fooling me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Fred’s feeling slightly annoyed at his brother’s obvious denial now. “I know how you feel about her, Georgie. I see the way you look at her. Why don’t you both just come out and say it so you can be together for real?”

George actually has to place his bag on the ground. He rolls his eyes—somehow, he knew this was coming. “What the bloody hell are you on about? We’re just friends, like you said—this is purely strategic.” George turns around, picks up his bag, and is about to say the password to enter the common room, but—

“Strategic,” Fred echoes his twin. “Right. So I guess I can go along with my plan, then, slip you both love potions, make sure there’s definitely a change in your feelings toward one another so we know you are truly faking—”

This certainly grabs George’s attention. He can feel his heart thundering in his chest. He turns back toward his twin with narrowed eyes and asks, “What plan?”

“Oh, sorry—forgot to mention,” Fred jokes, careful not to wake any sleeping portraits, “I told the rest of the lot that I’ll be conducting a.. bit of an experiment, if you will—for research, you know. Don’t worry—got the antidote ready to go for when you both, of course, fall madly in love—”

“Fred,” George says through gritted teeth, but lets out a laugh, as well, “I’m not taking a love potion. First of all, those are prototypes for the store, remember? Reckon I’d need to be barking mad in order to take one of those anyway—we know full well how powerful they are.”

Fred’s been ready for George to argue about this. “But I told you, I’ve got the antidote—” Fred’s grinning cheekily at his twin now, he doesn’t even mind getting cut off completely.

“The answer’s no, Fred. You’re out of your bloody mind.”

“What are you so afraid of mate?” Fred laughs and punches George in the arm. “Are you scared that your feelings are going to change?”

George doesn’t want to answer this. He quickly runs a hand through his hair and suddenly seems a bit on edge. He absolutely hates getting cornered like this—he can’t shake the feeling that there’s something sharp lodged in his throat. He opens his mouth to argue, but once again, Fred takes him by surprise.

“Or, I wonder—are you afraid of them not changing at all?”

— -

George hasn’t slept in days. Weeks, maybe. No, that’s being too dramatic—maybe three days, tops. But to him, it certainly feels like a much longer time.

He drags himself, quite reluctantly, toward the dungeons. He’s looking forward even less to the Potions lesson in front of him. He can barely pay attention on a normal day—now, when he’s sleep deprived and running on not much other than caffeine and his own musings, he’s almost certain he’s going to fall asleep just walking there.

Until he spots you, of course, strolling down the other end of the corridor. You see him, too, wave frantically, and bounce your way over to him. Perhaps, he thinks, Potions won’t be so bad after all.

“Hey,” he says brightly, nearly over the moon to see you.. even if it is early in the morning.

“Georgie! I’ve got news,” you say excitedly, poking him in the ribs and wiggling your eyebrows at him. “Guess what I’ve found out?”

George is peering at you, as if in a dreamlike trance. His voice floats through the air between the two of you. “Tell me.”

“It’s about you know who,” you tease, “got herself a boyfriend, she has.”

George suddenly feels very warm. Blimey, it’s hot. He loosens his tie a bit, a hitch in his voice, “Wait, r-really? Where’ve you heard that?”

“Saw them together in the Great Hall—some Slytherin bloke,” you tell him, clutching your spell books tightly in your arms, “she was nearly drooling all over him—reckon her obsession will move to him now, no?” When George doesn’t share the same enthusiasm you do, you prod him with your wand and joke, “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for this girl.”

“Merlin, no,” George answers quite quickly. You watch as his expression changes from sullen to chipper within a matter of milliseconds. “That’s great news! Gets her off my back, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly,” you reply, “and now you don’t have to hang around little old me all the time. Not that I don’t enjoy your company—” you add quickly when George furrows his brows, “I just mean, now you’re able to go after any girl you fancy, not worry about her anymore—”

“Yeah,” a laugh escapes his lips, “yeah.. reckon you’re right! Blimey, have got to tell Fred.. he was starting to get freaked every time she so much as glanced over at us.”

Students begin to walk a bit more speedily, and you both realize the sound of the bell is drawing nearer. You push playfully on his chest and say, “Anyway—wanted to tell you before class! Meet me in the common room before dinner, yeah?” And before he can answer, you flash a toothy smile and turn in the opposite direction, making your way as quickly as you can toward the library.

You want to tell him. You want to tell him that you’d heard him and Fred that night when they’d been discussing love potions and whatever Fred has up his sleeve—you’d gotten caught up in the corridor around the bend, chatting with another student about an assignment, and had heard the entire exchange. You reckoned it was best to just end it now, before things get really messy.

Things seemed to be working in your favor, though. You hadn’t lied. That Ravenclaw did find herself a boyfriend, so, it seems as though the plan you two had formulated had worked, and that’s a good thing—right?

It’s the first time in—weeks, months?—that you and George part ways without a kiss on the cheek, a tight, romantic embrace, and it makes him feel weird. Off balance. He doesn’t like it. Is he really.. missing those times? Doing those things with you? He shakes his head in defiance, begrudgingly making his way toward Potions. Fred’s words ring in his ears. Just friends. Even if he does feel those things, it’s obvious that you don’t, he realizes. You’re nearly bouncing off the walls knowing that this fake relationship is over. So, why doesn’t he feel the same way? Why does he feel so sad?

He swallows thickly before bumping into Fred. They make their way into the classroom, George’s head and heart feeling heavier than they have in weeks.

Little does he know, you’re sitting in the library, staring into space, a piece of blank parchment in front of you, feeling, if not more so, the exact same way.

— -

A few days later, George can finally sit in the Great Hall in peace without ducking behind anyone, crouching down in his seat, or skipping feasts altogether. His prior admirer seems so wrapped up with her new love, that George Weasley might as well not even exist. He feels relief wash over him.

He’s sitting with Fred, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione, but you—you’re nowhere to be found. In fact, he hasn’t seen all that much of you in a few days time. Guess he sort of got used to always having you around. Loads of Herbology assignments, you told him the day before with a cheeky grin, reckon Doubles is catching up with me.

“So Georgie,” Fred says brightly through mouthfuls of potatoes, “reckon we should get back to our regularly scheduled mischief now that our unscheduled hiatus has been lifted, yeah?”

“Oi, Fred, can’t you see that he’s not listening to you?” Ron asks before lifting a hand to slap George right across the face.

“Easy, you two,” Ginny scolds them and grabs Ron before he can do anything. Then she taps her older brother on the shoulder, “Hey, earth to George.”

“What?” George says, finally joining the group, the haze above his head lifting slightly, “oh, erm, sorry.. was—distracted.”

Fred eyes his twin curiously. There’s a tiny bit of sarcasm in his voice, “What’s going on, mate? You’ve been awfully quiet since your little plan wrapped up.” But even in his delirious state, George knows what Fred is trying to do. And he’s so bloody exhausted and tired of fighting everything that he doesn’t even argue. Instead, he takes the group by surprise, and stands up without touching his meal. “What’re you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done months ago!” he calls as he flies toward the entrance, maneuvering himself between students and professors alike. He’s doing things without fully registering what’s going on, he’s taking steps three at a time, he’s jumping through the portrait hole in a huff, he’s panting heavily with a very confused you in front of him, baffled at his state.

“Hey there,” you say brightly, “you alright?”

When George catches his breath, he takes you by surprise. “‘m doing just fine, love.”

“Love?” you ask teasingly, “you missing what we had, Georgie? Our fake little relationship?”

“It wasn’t fake.”

You shoot him a glance and freeze completely. George is almost certain he can hear the pounding of your heart reverberating off of the common room walls. He’s thankful, now that he’s recognized, the two of you are completely alone. “It—it wasn’t?”

“Of course not.”

You offer a nervous grin, and George knows he’s said the right thing. The tension between the two of you is rising and you ask him jokingly, “This isn’t a love potion talking, is it?” Realization hits him like a ton of bricks and he lets an exasperated laugh escape his lips. Damnit, Fred. He shakes his head no and waits with bated breath for your next words.

“So this,” you say, pointing back and forth very rapidly between the two of you, “it’s..it’s been real this entire time?”

“Of course it’s real, it’s always been real,” George is finding it difficult to breathe correctly now, “hasn’t it been real for you?”

But you realize, as you’re choking back tears, that by saying yes, you’ll only be delaying the inevitable—which is, of course, to kiss him into oblivion. And you’d both waited bloody long enough already, hadn’t you?

So instead of saying anything, you bite back a very large grin before stepping forward and pulling on his tie and pressing your lips to his. He’s not even surprised—if anything, he’s relieved, to finally know what it feels like to have your lips on his after many moments having dreamt about it. Immediately, you want to ask him why you two haven’t been doing this the entire time, but you can’t bring yourself to break from him now that you’re intertwined together. It’s slow and warm, his lips molding perfectly with yours, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek, soft moans escaping his lips, the rest of his fingers making their way through your soft hair. It sort of feels as if you’re floating, actually, bouncing delicately from cloud to cloud, high above the trees and the castle. Breaking slightly and pressing his forehead to yours, he says, “So, erm, silly question—but are we—?”

“If you even have to ask if I’m your girlfriend for real now, you’re out of your mind, Weasley.”

George’s head is spinning. He leaves trails of kisses along your cheeks, your neck, and your collarbone, all before finding your lips again, and as they form a smile against his own, he can’t seem to shake the feeling like he’s coming home.

A very amused voice startles you both, making you part at the mere sound of the clearing of a throat. “Alright then, Ron, Ginny, Harry—you all owe me two sickles each. Hermione—cheers again, reckon you did well to agree with me on this one.” And then, when he notices you two watching, Fred says, “Oi—well it’s about bloody time.”

“I’m sorry,” you begin, doing your best to not think about the scarlet color of your face, or the fact that they’d all seen quite possibly the most intimate moment you and George have shared together, “you lot placed bets on us?”

“Sure did,” Fred replies, looking rather pleased with himself as he’s handed his earnings from a very grumpy looking Ron and Harry. He slides the sickles into his pockets and crosses his arms in delight.

As Ginny and Hermione squeal excitedly and wink at you before heading up to the girls dormitory for the evening, George pulls you back into his arms, confidence engulfing him, and says to the others, “If you don’t mind, we were kind of in the middle of something here.”

The tips of Ron’s ears turn extremely pink and he smiles warily. “Guess you didn’t have to use those love Potions after all, Fred,” Harry says.

With a wink at you both before making his way toward the stairs, Fred replies, “Was never going to, actually. Just had to make them think I was. Knew these two would break eventually.”

“Hate to admit it, but you’re kind of brilliant,” Ron says admiringly, but continues to pout when Fred slings an arm around his shoulders and tells him,

“Next time, Ron, just side with your wiser, older brother, yeah?”

You turn back toward George, your arms around his neck. When you make sure the others are finally out of earshot, you say to him, tugging gently on his tie again, “He’s outrageous, he is.”

“Got us together, though, didn’t he?”

“I suppose I’ll give him that one.”

“Oh,” Fred calls from the top of the stairs, “and Y/N? No snogging my brother until the wee hours of the evening, alright? He needs his beauty sleep.”

“Shove off, Freddie,” you call. A cackle of laughter floats down from the boys dormitory, but you find it easy to ignore. What do they know? The two of you have tons of lost time to make up for. You stand on your tippy toes, press your forehead to George’s before he kisses you again. He lets out a soft laugh when you say against his lips, to a Fred who can’t hear you, “Can’t make any promises.”

reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated, thank you for reading & requesting x

[frogtanii]

It’s wind anon. I know I should react to the Kenma part, but I just went through the update, saw Meiko’s portion and I have feelings that I need to get out because I’m so far gone right now—

I swear, I can break down every single text what the flip is this BS. Meiko, dear, do you,,,have a concussion. Are you thinking. What,,, this is like the time you were underdressed at the restaurant and you ended up getting drunk as heck.

Okay, let’s do the breakdown.

Coming in hot, we see Meiko with “tooru!!!!!!” (Yes, I did count the number of exclamation marks) firstly, the usage of his first name after ‘exiled’ where she raged at him and used Oikawa instead... mood swing much because I cannot believe the audacity of this... and really. First name basis. Trying to be close and to get rid of animosity, but not offering up anything like “hey, I’d appreciate talking to you for a sec if you’re free?” Or an apology for blowing up at him because he did indeed have your back, it’s just that you were the one problem. But yes, the exclamation marks too. A bit childish, obvious excitement...mmmm, I’ll move on to the next section.

Oikawa’s “oh. hey meiko” shows that he really ain’t up for this. First is the obvious low energy. I don’t want to go into depth about that but the “oh” shows that he paused. He saw her message. He answered. And he didn’t expect her to talk to him. Especially with that sort of energy. Mixed feelings towards her. And his “hey meiko”. I would say he is one of the more energetic of the House. He probably would’ve done something like “meiko!!! <3” in response before or something like that. He’s a bit flashy in that regard. But no punctuation. Just a downtrodden “hey” in response.

“don’t sound so enthused” she says. I mean, at the very least it seems she understands and can grasp tone from messages? But I am like “it would be more surprising for him to be enthused? I’m in awe of how you were able to become so enthused after you got yourself crushed into pieces by YN...” Besides that, even if Meiko wasn’t physically hurt, a confrontation of this sort would not lead to anyone having a happy mood? Me glancing between Meiko and all the therapists that were mentioned before because I really hope that we can figure something out because she gives off so many different vibes I am like... “what even goes on inside her brain...”

“can you blame me? you yelled at me the last time i talked to you” and this is the truth. He shouldn’t be enthused. You yelled at him, you disregarded his concern and you showed that you didn’t care for him as a person. Even if there was a circumstance where she didn’t yell at Oikawa, he would reach out first and be concerned about her health. Meiko has no grounds to try and blame him for anything right now. Frankly, I don’t think Oikawa should have even bothered answering her because I don’t think he is in the best place emotionally to deal with her.

“im so sorry sweetheart!!!! i didn’t mean it :(” lemme just day, wind anon cannot believe the BS that this message is. First, she says she is sorry. But really? Really. I can’t even look at her. Look, I don’t know what it is but “I’m so sorry.” Has the weakest apology energy. “I’m sorry.” Fine, decent, the classic and simplest. “I’m really sorry.” Also good! Shows regret. “I’m so sorry.” Sounds like you when you just learn that a person’s family member has passed away. There is something about “I’m so sorry” that doesn’t sound sincere to me and it’s infuriating. Next, the “sweetheart” I might’ve gagged a bit internally. Does she,,, talk like that? Normally? Is that a thing? She’s younger than him...and I don’t know but sweetheart sounds so condescending I literally can’t even— and finally, the “I didn’t mean it” yeah, well, you don’t mean anything because everything you say is BS that’s what you mean. Stop excusing your behavior. There is no merit behind it.

“you know i was just beat up and i couldn’t control what i was saying”. Okay, let’s break this down too. First, trying to incur sympathy by the “I was just beat up.” I cannot believe this gal. And the “you know” for a reference to a person’s knowledge of the matter, it lets them be more susceptible to beliefs. But the “I couldn’t control what I was saying” is complete utter hogwash. I mean, Meiko can’t control any bit of her because she is just impulse. But she excused her inability to control herself by saying it was because she was just beat up.

I don’t know what to say for the next portion. Alone, it’s cute, but put into perspective it’s just manipulation and she doesn’t love him. I’ll just move on.

“what do you need that you can’t ask iwa-chan?” Okay, so he didn’t reciprocate with an “I love you too” so that just shows what type of mood and how effective her words were. It also shows that she always messaged Oikawa when she needed something, because he caught on super quick to that. The “Iwa-chan” is interesting though. I wanna know if Oikawa talks to Iwaizumi after this conversation with Meiko because she is clearly going behind his back right now.

“oh well hajime is being very rude rn. he won’t let me leave my room!!!!” Okay, he had best interests at heart and Meiko...I know every single one of your rooms has a bathroom too. They’re bringing you food. They are letting people go into your room. Meiko, you wouldn’t have lasted quarantine if you’re this petulant now. It’s literally going to be like, 3 days max if you work to get an actual solution. I don’t want to break this down, I feel this is self explanatory. She feels entitled still.

“i know, it’s for your own good” he replies, and that is true but I am also of the belief that it is (hopefully) better for the rest of the house to not be in contact with her so I guess that’s that. Anyway, this shows Oikawa placating her, next

Meiko...being...not pretty. “ugh!!! but i wanna go out!!!!!!” Yeah, she would not have been able to be safe throughout the pandemic. Please,,, you’ll have fresh air if you open up a window,,, I know for certain you don’t exercise,,, please Meiko, shut up already you are making yourself look like more of a pile of garbage than you depict yourself as please I cannot handle the idea that the guys fell for this act—

“you have a black eye babe” okay, the black eye is actually Tooru trying to refer to knowledge that she has. As in, she should be trying to rest and get better right now. (Just curious, who treated her? For the injuries? She raged at Iwaizumi and Oikawa so maybe Daichi?) the babe gives off the placating vibe to me, still low energy, not very affectionate, but it’s there so I’m like “hm”.

“so??? omg are you calling me ugly tooru???????” Well...he didn’t call you ugly. But I might? Because you have the ugliest personality of everyone here. But also, shifting blame onto him. Gosh, I give Oikawa some water. He’ll get a migraine from this.

“of course not. i would never”. Low energy, not elaborating, I think he sees that she is trying to manipulate him, or at the very least he isn’t going to play that particular game. But actually, he runs a fashion channel on YouTube. We know Bokuto runs a fitness one and his header message was something along the lines of everyone’s bodies are beautiful, so chances are Oikawa has the same sort of idea for his channel too. He may criticize fashion, but he would never criticize the people wearing it or the people who made it in a mean way. He would be respectful, and he lets people do what they wish because it’s their choice. I mean, there has to be a reason why Meiko’s fashion is how it is—he doesn’t intrude on matters that aren’t his to intrude upon.

Okay, Meiko. I’m gonna stop trying to format the messages exactly how they are, autocorrect is making my time with them a bit too much, but she says she wants him to take her with him. Okay, starting off, you are really under the belief that he will take you on to a trip he has planned when he didn’t invite you in the first place? Pushy... but yes, her petulance again... me flicking water at her, “you got super drunk because you were underdressed at a fancy restaurant and now you have a face that looks like roadkill, how much do you want to embarrass yourself before you get turned into a pariah?”

Oikawa not knowing how she knows that is clear concern. Someone knowing your schedule when it’s none of their business and not public knowledge is major red flag. The “uh” shows that he is clearly taken aback. The ellipses shows that he doesn’t know what to think.

Okay, Meiko—she is actually able to notice something??? Good golly gee, I am baffled by how she did that when everything else she does is on fire. But the consistency probably gave it in. She may have been looking for him at one point, noticed he was out, and saw the pattern then. But actually, wouldn’t she be good at noticing the patterns of the guys so that she always knows which one to go to and use? Thoughts.... but I’m curious about the fact she said the “same group of absolute losers”. I highly doubt they always go and meet up directly in eye view of the house? Chances are they meet up at a bar or something? This potentially could be a thing where Meiko was stalking them? It would be interesting if she saw them while she was out as well—and if yahaba and kyoutani noticed her around before too. Also, her saying “you ain’t slick” like,,, Meiko, have you looked into a mirror. Can you see.

Oikawa defending his friends, we stan. Let’s move on though: “they’re so much younger than you?? and yahaba is def not cute lmao” me, doing like the... monkey meme where they look away because I am just like??? Meiko, you’re younger than Oikawa. I bet Yahaba and Kyoutani are your age. And anyone younger than you is a loser huh? That’s why you look at Bokuto and YN like they are dirt beneath your feet. (And Yes, I do remember that you put Bokuto and YN as the babies of the house, this reoccurrence is very well done). And she went and insulted Yahaba directly like...you’re talking to his friend? What are you doing? Excuse me? I beg your pardon?

And the ellipses strike again— and Oikawa is fishing for information because we have seen him—he listens to logic. And Meiko... her emojis... wind anon be flicking more water at her, she is too much. Also. Kyoutani. She is calling Kyoutani cute. This was the message that made wind anon start this long analysis. Kyoutani, cute? Listen. Kyoutani would take one look at this parasite hanging off his arm with her swollen black eye that was slathered with makeup and her lacking clothing sense, before looking at Oikawa who would be so haggard by then, and then Kyoutani would force her off his arm before grabbing Oikawa and running off with Yahaba following them. There is no way at all Kyoutani would involve himself with Meiko. I refuse to believe he would go for her.

Okay, the two messages after about wingmanning—I don’t want to do a large scale analysis of it. Oikawa really is shown to have good sense for Meiko’s intentions. His intuition is good. And we know that he cares and respects his friends and he focuses on their capabilities. He knows them. Meiko is just...childish in the worst of ways.

“You don’t see the issue with this”. Oikawa really digging in his feet. First, he wished to be in a relationship with Meiko. And here she is, asking for him to wingman to get her together with one of his friends, who may not even like her—and I bet that if it doesn’t go well, she would blame Oikawa for it like really—but I give Oikawa more water for the migraines Meiko induces.

“What?? It’s not like we’re actually together lol”. The laugh out loud at the end really shows how much of a joke she sees this as. She sees him as a joke. And she just crushed all his efforts and actions to try and get into a relationship. And actually...will Meiko ever get into a relationship with another? She has no loyalty. She definitely wouldn’t have ever got into a dedicated relationship with one of the guys. And she would be the type to get upset if they slept around, wouldn’t she? A hypocrite.

“Ugh don’t be like that!!! I’m sure you sleep around too!!” Okay, she is trying to defend herself while also potentially blaming him if he does. It’s just manipulation...I’m gonna move on...

Oikawa’s just done and his “I don’t” holds a lot of emotion. But Meiko’s response back I don’t believe at all. “Oh well that’s your fault, I don’t really give a sh*t if you sleep around hehe!!!” First, blaming him for his choice of only choosing you??? And I highly doubt the second part because she is shown to throw blame and ditch people for negligible reasons—I have no trust towards her words. I do not believe her. I believe she would care. I believe she would blow up at the guy before leaving him.

“Of course you don’t” And there is the utter doneness. He has given up on Meiko in this message. He doesn’t care anymore. He was already not in the mood for her when she first messaged him, he doesn’t want to see her at all anymore. He’s given up.

“So you get it!! Perfect!!!!” Please, wind anon has written so much already, her eyes are sweating everytime she has to look at Meiko being like this hhhhh. “I’ll be ready at like 9pm? Come by my room!! Actually no I’ll come by yours” and her usage of emoji. Get her away from me and everyone in PF. She’s toxic. Send her off with hazardous waste. Also, she deliberately changed from her room to coming by his. She is cutting off him so he has to go with her, he can’t just sneak out and not wait at her room (though she did offer a time so he could just go out now and ditch her presence completely). But it would be amusing if he did something like lock his door, (either after he’d go out or if he wold leave through window) and she would just be there waiting all decked out in her clothes and makeup pounding on his door. He wouldn’t answer and the others would see her out of her room (a misdemeanor). And then she would have to make an excuse. But it would be hard...because Oikawa has text evidence of Meiko going against Iwaizumi to just play like this.

“And if I say no?” Says Oikawa, who is testing the waters—very smart. We approve. “You won’t.” She replies, because she is terrible and we hate her controlling, manipulative, abusive self and we would all fight her. And she ends it off with a “great!! see you then!” Because she has to have her way and the last say.

Okay, wind anon is done

Completely. Utterly done with the analysis and reaction for that. Might not get to Kenma and YN analysis because I went off in this one but just know I appreciate it and I’ll try to get to it—just,,,not today.

I hope Oikawa sends these screenshots to like, Iwaizumi at the very least but it would be even better if he just drops it in a group chat with Daichi and Osamu instead and asks them to keep an eye on her for “her own safety” and ask her to stay in her room. She’s too daring and if she blows up on him after, he will receive more evidence of her being terrible. And of course, he’s smart. He’ll definitely block her number when he doesn’t want to bother with her anymore. Okay, wind anon is ending here. The ask is too long. I think it’s the longest ask I’ve ever sent. I wish you well fr0ggy. I hope your sleep is pleasant and you wake up very rested and refreshed!

WOO LONG POST!!!! i cannot nearly respond to all this!!!! but!!!! i am in Awe??? text by text???? i love this????? ur so amazing i <3 u

[verryberriess]

How the King of Elfhame Lost His Stories | Part 1

tap picture for better quality :3

Rating: M (NSFW)

Synopsis: As long as Jude didn’t go back to the human world, she would remain by his side. (CANON-COMPLIANT)

Word Count: 6,206

A/N: Sorry!!! I take a long time to write, but I’m really excited about this. Thanks again to @maastrash​ for helping me with edits<3 :3

Cardan looked back at his queen, sleeping soundly on the bed beside him. He examined her sleeping profile: her luscious colored lips that always kept him wanting more, long eyelashes he admired for framing her walnut-colored eyes, and the line of her jaw that he loved to kiss over and over again. He laid beside her, resting his head against his palm while his arm took up his weight. Despite its king size, Jude had somehow managed to wrap most of the duvet around herself, leaving Cardan the meager edges to lie under. 

Cardan didn’t mind. Some nights he would yank back the covers from her, a tug of war of sorts that usually lasted for hours on end, carrying on until someone fell asleep first. Sometimes the covers were tugged back unconsciously from the other’s grasp, which ended up leaving either Jude or him cold and freezing in the morning. Most nights, however, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, after a cozy entanglement of love making.

She was so cute, so beautiful, he thought. Curled up, Jude looked peaceful. Not a scowl in sight. This was Sleeping Jude, a side of Jude that only few are able to get to know well. A side of Jude that is sighted only when the sun is high and it is early twilight, where her breaths are even and relaxed and the stress of the night’s schemes didn’t hinder her. A side of Jude that only Cardan’s eyes were allowed to see.  

He peered at the pendant that hung around her neck loosely. Crafted unprofessionally and held together by a simple snake knot, the leather string was weighed down by a rusty brass coin that seemed hastily carved with the initials “JD x CG”. How the thing had not yet been lost to time or turned into dust, despite these thousands of years, was beyond him. He smiled. 

It was a cheesy gift, one that he had prepared quickly in the week before Jude’s coronation as queen. He gave it to her while he pulled her aside from the extravagance of the revel, wanting to have his newly crowned queen all to himself for at least once that night.

Cardan thought how utterly surreal it was since then. To think that he had spent thousands of nights since the coronation with this mortal woman that was his sweet nemesis, that he used to scorn and ridicule her just because she was disgustingly always on his mind. No, he couldn’t betray himself anymore. It wasn’t disgusting at all. He had welcomed those thoughts, and remembered how his eyes always seemed to find her form in the crowd, trailing after her, no matter the area or size of the crowd. And when she wasn’t in sight, her wicked presence had infested his mind, occupying the back of his thoughts like a parasite he would do nothing towards to resist. But now, she was next to him, besides him always. His wicked queen. 

It was rare for him to have woken up before her. She had been tired lately, sleeping in more than usual. He watched the sun dip into the horizon and a flurry of colors overcast the sky, illuminating a soft glow around Jude from the opening between the curtains. 

Slowly, she stirred. Her nose wrinkled and she shifted a bit, moving closer towards his direction. Her eyes puckered but they gradually opened. Jude blinked up at Cardan, while he stared back.

“How long have you been watching me sleep?” Jude asked accusingly.

Cardan smiled, his face of wicked amusement. “Never will I lose appreciation for my lovely wife’s incriminations, but I must admit that I’ve been awaiting your rising to kiss those hooded eyefolds of yours.” 

“When did you ever start waiting to do something?” 

“Since whenever it had to do with you.” Cardan put down the arm he had been resting his head upon, leaning in towards Jude. As he got closer, he watched Jude squeeze her eyes shut, allowing him to close the space between them. Cardan pressed his lips against the lid of her eye as promised, soon maneuvering to her neglected right. He pulled back and smiled. 

Jude opened her eyes again, “Well that’s certainly one way to fully rouse me. I feel like it was only last night when we first exchanged our vows.” She propped herself up and flipped over the covers. It was time for her to get out of bed and go about her royal duties, but Cardan didn't want her escaping his presence just yet. 

Rid of his tired daze, with a sudden haste Cardan catapulted himself out of the bed and made his way to the bathing room after Jude, who went towards the chamber pot, and bent over it. “Throughout our past thousands of years of marriage, I never believed that my kissing you would make you withdraw away from me.” 

He prepped himself at the sink, as servants readied the bath for him. He watched Jude undress, slipping off her sheer nightgown and letting the air taste her nude flesh. He couldn’t help but admire her as he stripped out of his own satin night shirt. He would never tire of her form. He’s always been fascinated by the simplicity of the mortal figure. Surrounded by the complexity of the fae, Cardan was used to seeing mixed forms, of which consisted of fae with animalistic or plant aspects, though he had long accepted that he was a slave to Jude’s sloped breasts and sweet lies. Despite their nightly activities, and the fact that he and Jude had fulfilled each and every one of his sexual fantasies, seeing her nude body dip into the tub of rose water renewed his raging fervor for her. It was like seeing her without those garments and petty underthings for the first time again. Again and again. Every night.

He joined her in the tub. The water, infused with a few dozen oils and scents he never took the time to learn the names of, lapped at his skin. 

“The depths of your desire is very apparent right now, Cardan.” Jude remarked.

“As always, dear wife.” He smirked.

Every now and then they would do this. He would wash her back, since he enjoyed the touch of her skin, while Jude arched against the tips of his fingers that lingered seconds too long. He never tired of the suds that he always popped and of Jude’s eye rolls at his childish behavior. They would banter before a silence befell them, soak up the essences of the water until their skins became raw and wrinkled, and get out of the bath to get ready for the night’s tasks.

Although Cardan knew she didn’t fancy it, ever since Jude had been crowned her wardrobe had become more extravagant than ever. He didn’t mind, especially since the range in lacy underthings had upgraded, much to his benefit. Though, Jude had added upon her own tastes as well: tops, pants, shorts, anything she’d be able to move fluidly in. Her collection of sword sheaths and belts further fascinated him, due to the pockets that fitted their respective array of knives, daggers, and other deadly poisons he wouldn’t dare wield.

Jude donned a pale blue court dress adorned with crow feathers, while he dressed in a black doublet with velvet cuffs, breeches, and a fur capelet. He tossed his own crown atop his hair, not worried about its placement. 

“What do your royal duties consist of today?” Cardan inquired. 

Jude set the crown onto her head and attached Nightfell to her hip as she strolled to the door, “The usual. Scheming, power-plays, and paperwork.” She pauses. “And, perhaps I may go out riding with Grima Mog.” 

Cardan replied, “Ah, yes, I forget we are knee-deep in affairs with the Court of Teeth. Taking Grima Mog would make a fine decision.” He lowered into a chair, “Should you need my presence on your ride, however, I would much oblige.” 

In response, Jude tilted her head and smiled, “I’ll keep that in mind. Join me for lunch, though?”

He thought of his own duties he would attend to today, but didn’t think twice about having lunch with Jude. He had never placed his work before her and wouldn’t ever even entertain such a ridiculous idea. “In the garden. With the silver-blue roses. Alone.” 

Jude grinned harder before she was off. Cardan waited in the armchair, allowing the servants to commence dusting his cheeks with gold and adorning him with an assortment of jewelry. Besides her crown, pendant, and Nightfell, Jude rarely embellished herself in the other brooches and ornaments he had gifted to her. He knew she didn’t place value in such “meaningless trinkets,” as she called them, but he loved to see her in finery. To observe the shine of gold she occasionally wore not even be able to compete to her even more illustrious presence. 

By the time Cardan yielded himself back to reality, the servants had already finished with him. He dismissed them.

Jude took command over his thoughts far too often the past few days. He was looking forward to lunch. Or, maybe it was because the anniversary of her coronation was coming up. 

Cardan stood up and left their chamber. 

He made his way to the study, meeting with a few members of the court to plan the final arrangements for the week-long revel in two days. 

~.~.~.~.~

“And since it is the 1600th year of our reign, I expect no less than grandiose. I want feasts, debauchery, and excess— golden beetle thread embroidered onto seats, glowlight vines, wine! Goblets and carafes of the best mortal wine—“

A courtier, scribbling as fast as she could on her leaflets of notes, interrupted, “Your Majesty-- ”

Despite the disarray of the small audience in the room, Cardan continued without regress, “Everything must be labeled. Faerie wine, rosettes of meat, hazelnuts, and bread and cheese alike. Should I set my gaze upon even an inkling of faerie fruit or hear the slightest hint of the treachery against the queen, it’s off to the Tower of Forgetting.” 

“Your pardon, our stores for mortal wine are depleted, I’m afraid.” Randalin, the Minister of Keys said worriedly, “The last time we’ve tried to replenish the stock was disastrous. According to the last Folk who ventured to the human world, the mortals had quite the frenzy discovering our… ah, differences.” 

But Cardan interjected once again, “If it’s such a problem, why have we continued to rendezvous with the kind for so long? We’ve had thousands of nights with the beverage at no hindrances. Continue to do whatever you have done before to restore the stock.” With that, Cardan took a long swig from his goblet. He set it down, before continuing. “Any state matters shall be discussed elsewhere, in the strategy room, so that my wife is present to consult with the rest of your woes.” 

The courtiers paled. Everyone in Elfhame was already well-aware of their queen’s reputation. Nonetheless, they respected her, as Cardan expected it so. Jude had grown into her power and legislation beautifully. Politics and schemes were in her favor, and cruelness and bloodshed at her behest. There was no room to humiliate, discredit, or taint her honor.

Cardan got up from his cushioned chair and made his way to the doorway. “Now, since this meeting has since been hours too long, I shall release myself. The pleasure of my world has been delayed long enough.” He left the courtiers to discuss among themselves the matters of the ball without him. They would be able to take care of it themselves. 

He shut the door behind him and walked out into the hall. Cardan had long been accustomed to ruling, but he still found said matters of state boring. Although he would have liked to refrain from admitting such, his attention span was the size of a honey cake and his mind often wandered elsewhere. Nevertheless, he contributed to council meetings. He entertained his court with his musings, and he also found himself confident in complementing Jude’s decrees with his own advising. They balanced each other out.

Cardan carried a certain poise in his step as he walked throughout the halls of the palace. The estate had never been a home to him until he made those vows with Jude. 

He got to the garden, satisfied at the sight of the picnic blanket and basket laid out upon the grass amongst the green scenery. He was glad that the Bomb had gotten his message about getting someone to set up the picnic for them. The meeting had taken three hours, and he couldn’t help but doze off at the thought of lunch the whole time. Although he and Jude ate together regularly, it wasn’t every day that they had cute setups. Cardan smiled in victory to himself. How victorious it felt to have come up with an excellent idea. A picnic in the garden! Where Jude had disposed of his deceased brother!

Settling himself on the picnic blanket, he waited for Jude’s arrival. The moon was bright tonight, allowing him an easy glance at the green around him, with the occasional difference in hue in the trees and flowers. Night sprites buzzed and sounded the air with a light hum. He tinkered with the woven twigs that made up the basket, poking and prodding at the delicate framework to pass the time. 

Too immersed in his new plaything, the crackle of laughter above him startled him. He looked up at Jude’s laughing form. She held her sides, looking like she was trying to hold herself together, and her body bent at some awkward angle. This was another side of Jude he appreciated. 

He had discovered her ability to laugh early in their marriage. Before then, in contrast, he couldn’t remember a time when she had ever laughed while in his presence. He knew he, himself, was to blame for who he was back then. The first time he had delighted at her laughter, he wordlessly promised himself he would try to encourage her laughter and happiness further. He wanted to hear the sound every day-- let it replace the honey wine he used to drown himself in. 

It was back when both he and Jude journeyed to the human world to visit Vivi and Heather. Cardan was fascinated by the tiny space that Jude had once lived in while in exile. He couldn’t believe his eyes at the way humans lived without magic, utilizing light and a continuous flow of charge to power their suspicious devices and supposedly, their whole world. He had been confused at the combination of tomato and cheesy bread, but deemed it appetizing. And when he had tried to glamour his attire to match that of the styles of what the humans wore, he was so utterly confused, he found Jude uncontrolled in a way that was full of energy, doubling over and eyes squeezed shut as she clutched at her belly. He guessed that his attire was what caused her reaction, so he replaced his doublet with some shirt that belonged to Vivi’s human friend. Regardless, apparently his newly upgraded state of dress appeared even more ridiculous because it had provoked Jude to laugh even harder. 

How unfair of her. She was as unsuited to the human world as himself, but he loved the glow of her happiness when she laughed. So he had grinned back in return. 

“You looked like you required no other company besides yourself and that basket of yours!” Jude called.

Cardan sensed a trend in Jude’s source of laughter.

“Well, I admit this basket makes fine company, but I wouldn’t think it would make for great long term companionship.” Cardan retorted. If causing Jude’s laughter was to be at his expense, he may perhaps go along with her foolery.

“Yes, and I would.” 

“You’re not wrong. It neither speaks nor sneers. It’s convinced me to not partake in pursuing this friendship further, however disappointed it may be.” Cardan watched Jude take a seat next to him. She proceeded to flip open the lid of the basket, going through the collection of assorted foods inside.

“A grave loss,” Jude confirmed. “What do we have here?” She asked incredulously, waving out the small cardboard box. The box was twelve inches in diameter. Its smell was extremely pungent but nostalgically familiar-- something he hadn’t had in a long time. He couldn’t decipher what it was. Jude set the box on the blanket between them and lifted up the lid. “Pizza?” Her eyes widened at him. 

“Ah, so this is how the royal kitchen interprets ‘savory for a human.’ I’m quite pleased, I hadn’t known that this is what they would plan.” Cardan answered.

“Its smell rivals that of humans'. Did they make it themselves?” Jude had already taken it upon herself to grab a slice. The strings of cheese were reluctant in parting with themselves in the other slices, but it stood no chance against Jude’s merciless attack. 

Jude looked so casual. She had flayed out her dress so that she could extend her legs across the blanket, removing her shoes in the process so she sat barefoot. Another side of Jude he loved, Cardan noted. How she could be so effortless in her movements and still be able to disarm him. To others, she was a fierce murderess. Conversely, to him, she was always a seductress in waiting, yielding secrets about herself to him in bits and pieces that he lapped up so eagerly and fervently. It had already been more than a thousand years, yet he still had so much he needed to know about her.  

“I’m confident that they did.” Cardan grabbed a piece for himself and bit into its tip with conviction. He knew exactly what pizza was now. And how to eat it. Cardan had accumulated an Insmoor’s worth of experience eating the savory dish throughout the first few times he and Jude visited the human world. “Many are too cowardly to simply fetch wine from a mortal department store.” He relished in the ratio between the sauce and cheese. He appreciated the effort the chefs had put in to add the prawns as toppings, allowing him to reminisce of their first journey there. 

“I suppose that it’s good for the stores to have depleted. I’d like to lay low on the liquor for a while.” Jude continued to bite into her pizza. Small specks of red sauce stained the area around her mouth. 

Not a strange request since Jude had never been a big drinker, but ever since they had gotten mortal alcohol that's safe for her to drink, Jude indulged herself on occasion. Cardan smiled at the thought. She ought to hold her liquor better. At their last event, while Cardan had downed goblets after goblets of faerie fruit cocktails to get himself past tipsy, she had already been a stumbling mess at the table.

“That would delight the courtiers in excess. Dear wife, so you do have a heart after all. ” He mused. 

 “In some circumstances.” With only three slices left, they had almost finished the pizza. “Do you remember when we journeyed to the hidden lake in Insmire a few weeks ago, where we conversed of forever together?”

Cardan answered, “... We have an eternity and a few. Why, are you worried that your days will have become a bore and that your love for me will shrivel? Fear not, for I will never allow that.” 

“I have been resting more often than late, but I have never been bored. In fact, things have actually become more interesting…” 

Weeks ago, Cardan took Jude through the Milkwood to visit the hidden lake he had used to traverse to by himself.

It was a secret spot, one only known to a few, and he took Jude there for the first time, to finally reveal one of his long kept secrets. Despite the title he had given it, the lake was more like a large pond, home to hundreds of forest and water sprites, pixies, and nymphs. 

When the moon was at its brightest, where it was closest to the surface of Elfhame in its orbit, the brilliance of the lake was unparalleled. Pixies and sprites alike illuminated the surroundings to reflect the moonlight that shone upon the crystal waters, overcasting a soft glow in the midst of the dark surroundings. It was at this time where not only the creatures and faerie of the Milkwood celebrated the glow of the moon, but the flowers, waters, insects, and soil participated as well. It was at only this time of year when the hidden lake’s flowers of gold and cerulean hues bloomed in full, casting off a shimmering spectacle of reflective light among the greenery.

But to wait thousands of years for the perfect time to show Jude, had been absolutely devastating to him. He had only wanted to show her his favorite spot when it was at its finest, disappointing himself year after year when he had to refuse her requests to venture to the lake. 

“It’s absolutely beautiful,” Jude whispered, her eyes taking in the sight of the hovering flower sprites. “To think that you’ve been hiding this after all this time. How cruel of you.”

“I just wanted to wait until the time was right-- when the moon is at its closest and brightest.” Cardan explained. “Every year I surveyed the stars, confronted Baphen of the state of the moon, waiting and waiting for the perfect time to take you. And when I finally got an answer that the time would be tonight, after more than four thousand years since the last Moondrop, I knew my efforts to outsmart your scheming, pesky stalking, and fake anguish would all be worth it. And it is. Your glowing, my sweet Jude.”

Jude grinned. Beautiful and wide. Lashes brimmed against the soft smooth of her cheeks when she smiled so hard, he could tell her cheeks strained. “I love you.” 

Cardan’s cheeks burned. His face felt so hot, and later the rest of his body. His tail had gotten out free, twitching back and forth excitedly, enamored by the buzz of his thoughts and feelings for the mortal woman before him. “I love you too.”

He tugged Jude against him, hugging her tightly against his chest. This-- having her soft body pressed up against his, molding to fit against his frame, and her soft pretty lips so close to his own he felt, rather than heard, the slight breaths that escaped her, and the hair that framed her face ticking his chin. By the gods, he wanted to kiss her so badly. He loved her so much, so, so much. The only figure who had shown him love in this life, how to love, and how it felt to feel desired and wanted. Everything was mutual between them. It was too good to be true. 

This mortal woman that he had tricked himself into hating for the longest time in his youth, was the one he wanted by his side forever. Cardan clutched Jude so tightly, like he was afraid she would disperse into thin air before him and take away every feeling of love she had permitted him. He clutched each of her declarations so tightly to his heart, never in his life had he felt so overwhelmed and obsessed with something. Only when it came to her. 

He started with her lips, not at all soft or light. He pressed his lips into hers fiercely, wanting to taste all of her. And when that wasn’t enough, he met her tongue in a passionate dance, that ultimately turned into a battle of wills between two stubborn souls, relentless and unyielding. They shared breaths, and Jude reached up a hand to run up the side of his taut muscles, his body hot and aroused from the scalding tension between them. 

Jude pulled away, though she was still near enough so he could feel her deep exhalations from their lack of air. She spoke softly, as if she had only wanted Cardan to hear the words she was about to speak, “Cardan, do you want to try?”

His mind rolled into blank space. He didn’t understand what else she wanted to try. He thought they had tried out all of the positions his and Jude’s fantasies had dreamt up of, but apparently not, however. “Try what?” He finally asked. He was a little annoyed. He felt feverish from the heat building up within him, and the sight of Jude right now only intensified his fervor. 

She rolled her eyes in response. “For a kid. For you to be a father, idiot.” 

Without further provocation, Cardan clasped his hands around her middle and pulled them towards the banks of the lake. He heard Jude let out a quiet gasp as he used his momentum to twist themselves off the edge. They were airborne for milliseconds, wrapped around each other until they heard the crash of the lake water envelope their hearing. Cardan had flipped them so that he would take most of the impact, using a bit of his magic to soften their crash through the water, which caused the surface of the lake to fracture in lingering ripples. But now, all they could feel was the sensation of their beings underwater, making a gradual descent from the surface until the pressure slowly pulled them upwards again. Their movements were languid against the syrup of the water, sounds muted, and only Cardan’s overwhelming glee and desire for his wicked queen mattered. He never realized until then how he ought to engage in underwater kisses more. 

They broke the water’s surface and had engaged in each other for the rest of the night.

Cardan watched Jude put down her goblet of water and slowly place her hands atop her stomach. 

His eyes widened. He couldn’t distinguish between what was louder: the stunned silence that blared between the two, or the rapid increase in booms that sounded from his chest. Sounds and feelings were elevated at headlong, where he was stuck in an indescribable state of everything and nothingness, that is, until everything rushed back at him. 

“Y-you’re…” Cardan blabbered.

Jude smiled, but her eyes misted, where tears gathered. 

And then Cardan continued the merciless assault against her he had cultivated on Moondrop. With intense love and devotion and adoration for the woman next to him, he descended upon her in a song of nervous anticipation and joy. Cardan worshipped Jude, her body, and her devastating power over him like the Queen that she was, in a certain reckless abandon that once his lips met hers the energy became so heated and hungry. 

In contrast to the fevered energy that pulsed around them, in the distance, chirping sounds relentlessly insisted a festive tune. A flurry of white and blue rose petals fluttered in the surroundings, carried by a cold breeze that Cardan welcomed against his hot skin. Cardan saw none of the Folk around them. They were utterly alone, in a sacred spot away from the fence of blooming elderflowers and the nosiness of tree sprites, away from any eyes that could spot them committing mischief. So they proceeded.

His tongue glided along her bottom lip, demanding entrance, which Jude obliged heartedly. His tongue plunged inside the depths of her mouth, tangling with hers, probing and exploring. She moaned, which only heightened his desire and need. “Jude... I need you” Cardan breathed. His shaky grip on control loosened further. His head swam and he felt Jude’s own body sing for him, as she melted into him effortlessly.

He moved his palms up and down her skin, his thumb brushing down the slope of her shoulders to the length of her arms. Jude, in exchange, explored the muscles of his lean frame, as she had done more than a thousand times in her life. He nuzzled in closer, and was unable to form a single coherent thought, other than relishing in the taste of Jude and the utter beautifulness that was her. Jude quickly undid the buttons of his doublet. Afterwards, she got up to strip off her dress while Cardan shimmied out of his breeches. 

Cardan trailed his fingers along the lace of her black bra, expertly unhooking the offending material and discarding it into the grass. He gave her a predatory look, unable to hide his hunger and lust any longer. He moved to cup Jude’s breasts, gently squeezing, where she arched into his touch and elicited another breathless moan. She fell back again, allowing him further access, so he trailed his lips over the warm expanse of her neck, tracing her collarbones with his tongue, while his hands busied themselves deep within her. His tail unknowingly brushed against her ass, its sensual touch contributing to her pleasure.

But Jude, unable to allow Cardan to handle the reins for any longer, crouched over him, pressing her body against his and the ground. She kissed him again, sensuously, taking her time to first kiss his eyelids, the arch of his nose, lips, cheekbones, and the sharp planes of his face and body. She left a sloppy trail down his neck, along his chest and abdomen. Cardan groaned. His eyes rolled back into his head, an accumulating heat building up in him.

She positioned herself so that her entrance hovered above that of Cardan’s length. 

“Cardan,” Jude called. “I am beside you. Always.”

And that was his undoing. 

Cardan analyzed the unmasked elation in her gaze as he locked eyes with her. He climbed back on top of her and seized control from Jude. He wanted to attend to her-- to express every bit of passion and sentiment that that statement alone had stirred in him. 

He wanted to give her everything-- provide his child and his queen with everything: power, riches, love. He would give his child a boundless love that stemmed from a bottomless well that had accumulated over the years, in thanks to Jude. He would give his child the childhood he never had and never allow them to experience the cruelty and neglect that he had unknowingly accepted throughout his adolescence. 

Cardan held her steady, slipping inside with little difficulty. He rocked himself against her hips, and pushed against her harder, faster, until his name fell from Jude’s soft, cherry lips listlessly, like a sort of begging that furthered him into the abyss. 

~.~.~.~.~

Afterwards, Cardan and Jude left for their rooms. They showered--together-- and advanced their little ministrations and teases until they separated again, to finish the day’s tasks. 

Jude went on a ride with Grima Mog. He trusted her that she’d be safe, but now, he was worried for her safety more than ever. 

In addition to Jude’s anniversary of her coronation, he wanted to announce the existence of his heir. Shouting it into the skies wouldn’t be enough. He wanted to profess it to Elfhame-- the world-- of the news. But, he guessed a month-long revel of feasts and serenades would have to suffice. 

Cardan gazed at the ceiling, observing the candles and lights that illuminated the room. He had forgotten that the Minister of Keys was present, muttering indistinct nothings that he had long chosen to ignore before he focused on the faerie. He lowered the paper he had been analyzing, eyes narrowing and blacking by the second. The minister across the room managed to lower himself by another two degrees. “My King, everything is written in detail. A scribe wrote down a list of the specific themes and characteristics that will be administered at the celebration.”

He glared at the frail script of black on parchment. It was hard not to chew the inner lining of his mouth but he refrained the chagrin. “Enlighten me, Randalin, what does ‘Ask the mortal Devil-Queen for her preference in the color of flowers. Apparently the High King wants to obtain more mortal wine, but at the cost of a few of our Folk’s wits. It does not sit well with Cockroach-face, for he believes that the Queen should dance merrily to our festive tunes. He also proposes we shall try to let the Queen decide on what specific brand she most especially esteems--” mean to you? Does the word ‘surprise’ carry a different meaning to the lot of you?” Cardan crumpled the parchment and threw it into the fire. 

Randalin mutely winced. “I supplemented your scribe’s diligent notes in red ink for clarification, my lord. The exchange between you and Yorn and the other courtiers lasted for three hours. Your scribe’s stamina was stupefying. She scribbled non-stop.”

“And new, I presume.” Cardan retaliated.

“Certainly, my king. The scribe went off to our queen for her input, but with ill fortune, the queen has been out. The scribe returned with no information of importance.” 

Cardan glared ominously at the wordy fool.

Randalin sputtered, “Y- your Majesty! I shall rewrite the report.” 

 “We have been entertaining revels and gatherings with human refreshments for as long as I could remember. What makes this one so different that you lot have retracted towards such difficulties?” 

Randalin grew red. His form quivered in the increasingly displeased presence of his high king. “It-- well--” Randalin paused, unable to form words coherent enough for his tongue. 

“Nonsense,” Cardan remarked. “Times have changed. It is whatever, for now. You may relax, we won’t be having the presence of human alcohol for quite a few months. Refill the stocks as you can.”

Cardan watched the Minister of Keys instantly loosen, yet fright and tension still tormented his will. “That is… that is most incredibly generous of you, your Majesty. We are so utterly grateful for your extended benevolence.”

“As you should.” 

Randalin shifted, but asked tentatively. “But may I ask… what inspired this... sudden change?” 

“You will know in two night’s time.” 

“That is the celebration!” 

“Indeed, it is.” Cardan dismissed Randalin. He left the room with thundering footsteps; the door slammed shut. 

Cardan walked through the halls again, wanting to work alone in his study.

Royal guards and sentries lined the halls and bordered the gates of the private doors of the palace. 

Cardan studied documents and parchments in his study for hours before he resigned himself to dinner, where he took his meal alone. 

He regarded Jude’s whereabouts. It wasn’t unusual for her to go out for a few days at a time, but she usually told him beforehand about what she would be up to. He picked at his charcuterie plate, that consisted of breads, cheeses, grapes and a goblet of honey wine. He tried to shake off the uneasy feeling he felt in his gut, calming himself before he impulsively told his guards to call for Jude and his Grand General back to the palace.

“Dessert, your majesty?” A servant walked up to him to refill his wine.

“Thank you, but I’d like to do without tonight.” He replied.

“Of course. I’ll clear this for you,” the servant cleared the plates and boards from the table, leaving the carafe and goblet, before scuttling away. The servant’s whiskers twitched in dismay at the king’s sullen mood.

Cardan sat at the table, continuing to guzzle himself away. He attributed his raging worry for Jude towards the fact that their unborn child lay inside of her, but he was also excited for Jude’s return. He waited for hours in his cushioned chair at the dining table.

Later, he decided that he would retire early for the night, escaping into the bliss of his chambers that would surround him in Jude’s scent. 

He closed the curtains of his room tightly, leaving no room for the noon’s light to seep in. He changed into his sleep clothes, rid himself of makeup and jewels that peppered his being, and laid in the bed. 

By the time Cardan was able to fall asleep, he was awoken by a volley of furious knocks at his door. He could see the sun’s shine that casted a faded glow beneath the thickness of his curtains. Grumpily, he trudged to the door, and yanked it open. 

He looked forward to seeing Jude at the door, even though it was so bright and early for him to be woken at this time, but was disappointed to find The Roach and The Bomb in front of him.

Before he could utter a word out at their overconfidence to be at his doorstep that morning, they beat him in answering of Jude’s regards.

“Your Majesty!” The Roach cried. “Grima Mog has returned, but without Her Highness!” 

Cardan froze. His hands began to shake uncontrollably. His knees buckled under him, leading him to crash onto the floor, commissioning the rough of the oak floorboards to wound his knees. He was unable to discern whether he felt fright or rage, but without another word and with little strength, he got to his feet again, and ran out of the room.

Tags: @maastrash @b00kworm @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @fantasyfox101 @curlyredqueen06 

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[lailannajacobs]

If You’d Ever Had A Real Boyfriend, Maybe You’d Know What To Do With A Fake One | GIBP IV

Pairing: Fey!Loki x fem!reader 

Chapter Summary: You experience your first council event and get to know Loki a little bit better. 

Warnings: pure fluff

Word Count: 12.5k 

A/N: I know this took quite a while to come out, but I ended up writing far more than I’d intended and I spent a lot of time editing to try and get the fake dating as perfect as I possibly could. I hope you don’t mind the length so much and I’d love to know what you think of the chapter!! <3 

You had wanted to spend the whole hour in the bath, scrubbing the stupid Junabee from your hair, but Loki had given you an hour alone and you weren’t about to waste it soaking in a tub; no matter how luxurious or tempting it was. You’d chosen a dark silky blouse and fancy but comfortable pants, quickly noticing that Valkyrie had made a slitted compartment in the leg for your dagger. You hadn’t spoken about it with her and you didn’t know if that was her way of ominously warning you to stay safe or simply that she’d gotten a better read on you during your afternoon than you’d thought. Either way, you were glad to have it there.

Even though they clashed with the outfit, you’d kept your boots on underneath, refusing to part with them. You weren’t in the mood to get blisters from shoes you’d never worn before and needed to to know you could run and move if need be. Your steps were silent on the floor — another reason you’d kept on the boots — hopefully imperceptible even to Fey hearing. Leaning your ear against the door, you waited, listening for movement in the hallway. Nothing. Your hand was tentative on the handle. You gently pulled open the door and stepped out, eyes scanning the hallway. You bit back a groan.

Loki was leaning against the opposite wall, freshly changed into a dark suit, the cut and style similar to the likes of human fashion and his dark hair combed back. You were momentarily surprised he owned something like that, but with the mountain of clothing you received from Valkerie only hours after meeting her, you should have guessed she would have made something for him as well. It was a clever move on his part, and you wondered if it was him or his seamstress who had decided on the suit. Regardless of who’s idea it was, the clothes fit him so perfectly, even you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome. The thought made you scowl. He raised a brow.

“I thought you were going to be back in an hour,” you blurted then quickly realized how suspicious you sounded.

He shrugged, “I lied.”

The silence stretched on after his words and you turned them over in your mind. He knew you would try and leave. It was the only reason he would have lied about something so unimportant. And you stupidly believed him. You ran your tongue over your teeth, trying to hide your frustration — at him, yes, but also at yourself. You should have known that after sneaking off this morning he’d be watching you even more closely. If you’d have stayed put, maybe you could have gained his trust enough to search the palace on your own. Now, you’d only made everything harder for yourself. There was no way he trusted you before, but he sure in the Seven Hells didn’t trust you now. You should have known better than this. You had to be better than this. You felt tears burn behind your eyes and you struggled to keep ahold of yourself.

He cocked his head, looking at you more closely now, as if he could see beneath your skin if he tried hard enough. You avoided his gaze, watching the trees swaying outside through a nearby window until you were sure your voice wouldn’t crack when you spoke.

You tried to turn the tables on him Instead of trying to defend your own actions, and muttered, “that wasn’t very nice of you.”

He seemed to find that funny, his intense stare breaking as he pushed off the wall and approached with slow, lazy steps, “and what were you about to do, sweetheart?”

You took in a deep breath; pasted on a coy smile. You had to calm down and get your act together if you wanted to get through this. And you were going to get through this. For yourself. For Nat. You had no other choice.

You closed the door behind you.

“Find you, of course,” you replied sweetly.

His head dipped in a slow nod, lips pursed as if he was trying to fight a smile. You didn’t for a second think that he believed me.

“Well, sweetheart, you found me,” he crooned.

You couldn’t fake any kind of enthusiasm, the words dry when you said, “lucky me.”

“Lucky me,” he countered, lips curling into a wicked grin. His eyes were bright and taunting as if he was winning a game you weren’t aware you were playing, “and now that you’ve found me, what are you going to do about it?”

His voice had dropped so that his question sounded like a dare, words laced with danger and promises of something more. Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized how close you’d gotten now that he was leaning against your doorframe. You looked up haughtily, holding his gaze as you searched for something to say in return, but you had nothing. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and raised a brow, that insufferable smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Annoyed and all too aware of how close he was standing, you snorted and pushed past him. It wasn’t the most elegant or articulate, but it was the best you could come up with.

“Anything I should know about this party thingy?” you asked, hoping you could get back onto solid footing with some distance and a neutral question.

He was silent as he strolled beside you and you had to look up at him to make sure he’d heard. The only reason you didn’t repeat the question was the pinched look on his face and the way he began by saying, “I won’t lie to you,”

You stopped short, your hands on your hips. He paused and turned. When you didn’t back down, he nodded as if he’d just remembered lying to you less than an hour ago.

“Not about this,” he explained, though you weren’t comforted in the slightest by his answer. He was obviously comfortable lying to you and seemed to have it in mind that he would need to. Obviously, as king, he wasn’t going to tell you most things, but you wondered what that meant for your fate and Nat’s.

You kept walking, not wanting to get distracted and make a big deal about something you couldn’t change. For now. You motioned for him to go on.

“The council isn’t going to like you,” he replied bluntly, “they’re all part of the generation that burned down the temples of the old gods and almost half supported the discoveries that led to the war on purity.”

You closed your eyes for a few steps and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest. Several decades before Hayle inherited the throne, Dark Elf scholars from Alfhiem discovered that magic flowed through the Nine Realms like currents in a massive loop of energy. They had found that the each specific mutation that differentiated the races attracted certain currents of energy and allowed those mutation to interact with and manipulate the magic of the currents. Humans couldn’t interact with any.

Then, when Odin later took the throne, a human scholar named Brock Rumlow was found guilty of capturing and testing on as many of the other races as he could get his hands on to try and imitate the mutations to give himself more power. Odin had taken the opportunity to turn as many of the other realms as he could against humans, burning the temples the humans had built when they had believed the magic had come from the gods. They had set out to eradicate the ‘lesser race’ — humans who had no power and would inevitably try to steal everyone else’s. Anyone who had sided with Odin despised humans and were a threat to them, even hundreds of years after they had lost the war on purity.

You were in more danger here than you’d realized.

“Great,” you muttered. Then a terrifying thought occurred to you that he might actually agree with them, “if they’re part of your council, why haven’t you gotten rid of them?”

He looked down at me in surprise, “kill them?”

“Kick them off the council,” you snapped, “you were king for at least a little while. You could have changed that.”

You stopped yourself from saying that he should have changed it. The actions of one human should not have been enough to condemn the entire race for future generations and every other race that had sided with them. But you should have known when Asgard had abandoned everyone good in the war that they didn’t care for anyone other than themselves.

Loki remained silent as a beautiful Fey woman crossed you in the hallway and nodded politely as she walked past. Her eyes lingered on you and the space between you and Loki so you stepped a little closer to him as you walked, your shoulders practically touching. When you were certain she couldn’t see you anymore, you stepped away from him, afraid he could feel your anger radiating off you in waves.

“Their positions are for life,” he said with a shrug, “and unfortunately, that’s a long time.”

“Unfortunate,” you scoffed, then muttered, “maybe you should have considered the first option gave you.”

His steps faltered slightly, “I beg your pardon?”

You knew he’d heard with his Fey hearing.

“Nothing,” you chirped.

He looked at you warily before continuing, scanning your body from head to toe as if he was looking for the dagger you’d pulled on him the day before.

“Thankfully, the head of the court is impartial,” he finally said when he seemed satisfied you weren’t going to try anything, “and the ultimate decision is his. My advice to you is to ignore the rest of them and focus on making this convincing.”

You nodded. His plan made sense, but there was so much that wasn’t on your side simply because you were human. If this was a fight, you were starting it blindfolded and with a hand tied behind your back. You clenched your teeth, frustrated. He’d conveniently forgotten to mention how desolate our situation was before you’d agreed to it. Though you hadn’t really agreed to it. It would be a long time before you forgot the way he’d casually threatened your life and the pain he’d caused last night.  

“If you knew all this, then why in the Seven Hells did you drag me into this?” you snarled, unable to keep the emotion from your voice, “wouldn’t it have been easier to use someone who was Fey? I’m sure Valkyrie would have been available.”

You weren’t sure why you’d called out the seamstress, but now that you had, you wouldn’t mind him explaining some of the million secrets you knew they were both keeping from you.

He didn’t seemed fazed by your outburst, his face almost more impassive than it was before, “easier maybe, but it would have been too obvious. The fact that you’re so unexpected makes it the most believable.”

Your anger was dropped to a simmer for a moment when you wondered what he meant by ‘too obvious’. What kind of past was between them? Maybe something was still there and this whole situation was coming between them. Maybe your deal was ruining a perfectly decent relationship. You decided you didn’t care. You weren’t here to become invested in their lives. You had other — more important — things to worry about.

“This hallway leads to the council’s banquet hall,” he continued once he realized that you weren’t going to say anything else on the subject, “if ever I’m not here to escort you, this is the easiest way to get from our rooms to the hall.”

“There are other ways?” you asked, thinking that the better you knew the layout of the palace, the better your chances were of finding the Hand.

He glanced at you side-long, wary of your question. With reason, but you weren’t about to confirm that.

“I mean, what if I’m not coming from my room,” you supplied, hurrying along.

“You can always ask for help,” he said. His face took on a serious quality that you hadn’t seen on him before, “the walls have ears here. Unless you’re in your room, know that I’ll be able to hear you if you’d like help.”

You didn’t know what to think about that. You’d been talking pretty freely about your deal, even though it had been in hushed tones most of the time. But that meant that whatever you said could be overheard by anyone. You were going to have to be even more careful than you’d first thought.

He nodded as if he could read your mind and honestly, with the minute demonstrations of magic you’d seen so far, you weren’t sure he couldn’t. You didn’t know anything about Fey magic and because of it, you were even more at a disadvantage. If you were going to have to spend a few moons here then you were going to have to learn more about it. Maybe even put your pride aside and ask him about it.

“Do you think you can make it convincing in there, sweetheart?” he asked, pausing a few steps away from a set of double doors. You’d been so lost in thought that you hadn’t realized you were already at the banquet hall.

“YN,” you grumbled, “and I think I can manage.”

“Good. Then I think we should hold hands,” he said.

You rolled your eyes, though you were glad he’d had the decency to accept your terms and ask you first.

“How romantic. And original,” you laughed, though there was no humour in the sound, “did you come up with that all on your own, prince?”

“You did want a heads up,” he ran a hand through his hair, “and funny thing is sweetheart, love isn’t original. Or so I’ve heard.”

“Never been in love?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“No,” he kept his eyes on the door ahead, not giving anything away, his voice steady when he asked, “have you?”

A crazy kind of laughter bubbled in your chest at the irony and impossibility of your situation. Afraid it would turn into full blown panic, you managed to push it far enough down to say, “no. Looks like we’re perfect for this.”  

He rocked back on his heels, the corner of his mouth barely twitching upward, “I knew there was a reason I chose you.”

“I broke into your palace, I don’t think that counts,” you scoffed.

He offered his hand, “I let you.”

“Keep telling yourself that, prince,” you said, your frustration back as if it had never left. You tried to ignore that familiar itch blooming at your tailbone, “you people are so overconfident and arrogant that anyone with half a brain could break into this place.”

“And yet, here you are,” he pointed out, that infuriating smirk growing.

You crossed your arms, tucking your hands tightly against your body to hide your growing temper, “not because of your charm.”

He leaned in close, lips almost touching your ear when he whispered, “you’re no peach either, my queen.”

“At least I’m not a spoiled brat who coerces helpless humans into miserable bargains,” you whispered back, head snapping to face him and your composure slipping away faster than usual. We were so close now your noses were practically touching and you made sure to take a step away from him.

He shook his head and you felt a shimmer of magic surround you like a bubble. You looked around as if you could physically see it, but obviously nothing was there.  When you looked back at him, Loki’s eyes were ablaze.

“Like you’re helpless, YN. You obviously don’t like me and that’s fine, but don’t think for a second that I’m clueless. You can fool them, sweetheart, but not me.”

You let out another humourless laugh, easing the pressure in your chest slightly, “and there’s that overconfidence and arrogance I was just talking about.”

“Are there any other insights about me you would like to share?” he asked, that bored expression quickly replacing any sort of emotion you might have seen on his face.

“Not right now,” you snapped.

He huffed a sigh, “then we should go in.”

You took his hand. It was a rough, warrior’s, easily engulfing yours.

He smirked.

“Shut up,” you growled, tempted to rip your hand away, “this is a necessity.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he pointed out, though there was no doubt in your mind that he knew exactly what he’d done to get under your skin so easily. Just the thought infuriated you more.

“This is never going to work,” you muttered.

He paused, voice taunting when he said, “not with that attitude it won’t.”

It took all of your restraint not to punch him in the arm with your free hand. He was so cavalier about all of this that you had trouble believing he took any of it seriously. How were you supposed to get the book when this was over when his vanity seemed to take precedence over everything else? He raised your hands and placed a slow kiss on yours, his intense gaze never leaving you. You glared at him and could feel his lips twist into a smile on your skin. Before you could snap at him for being an arrogant prick, he pushed open the doors and was on the move again, tugging you along with him. You did your best to keep up with his long strides through the smaller hallway that led to fancy looking doors at the end. You didn’t know if you were late or it if it was you dreading the party, but it felt like he’d picked up the pace.

You kept repeating to yourself that the walls had ears and that you had a job to do. You had Nat’s face etched into your mind — the sheer panic, wide eyes and gaunt face of the day the two of you had gotten captured. You had to get her out. You had to. Which meant that you couldn’t go around hating the man you were supposed to love. At least, not blatantly you couldn’t.

“I couldn’t be happier than to be here with you in this moment, Loki,” you said as you approached the doors that looked even more impressive up close, “there’s no one else I’d ever want at my side.”

He stopped with his hand on the door and looked over at you with a curious, but slightly amused expression on his face. He leaned over so that his shoulder barely brushed up against yours and said, “commendable attempt, sweetheart, but you might want to remind your face of your intentions if you want anyone to believe it.”

Then he pulled you into the room with him before you could say anything else. You did your best to wipe the scowl from your face. It wasn’t easy to do when this was the last place you wanted to be, but every pair of eyes were on you so you had no choice. And there were a lot of them.

The banquet hall was filled with Fey in elegant evening wear, male and female alike, all dissecting you as if you’d intruded on their private event. The room was smaller than you thought it would be, though it still had high arched ceilings, wide stained glass windows and a long table set up in the back with an impressive spread of food. A quick scan of the crowd gave you the impression that there were almost fifty Fey here but not one friendly face among them. Your legs suddenly felt like jelly and you were surprised you were somehow still standing.

Loki looked down at you and raised a brow. It was a silent challenge as if he thought you were intimidated by his court — that you couldn’t keep up. The arrogant look reignited the furry that had been doused by the judging stares and brought you back to your senses fast enough that you didn’t stumble after Loki when he walked you toward the centre of the party. Because of course you were going to the centre of it. Where else would you go?

“Nice to see everyone,” he began, shooting them all courtly smiles, though he lingered slightly longer on the five men who stood a few steps apart from the others. Their tunics looked similar to most of the other men, but you could tell their designs were more carefully tailored for their bodies and the fabrics better suited for the cut of the shirt and pants they wore. These men exuded power and confidence, and you could only assume that they were the council members that you were supposed to impress.

But the council of stuffy old men that you’d been expecting was nowhere to be seen. Only two of them appeared to be over the age of fifty, all the other in their early thirties at most — though you didn’t doubt that most of them were at least a few generations of humans old. All were Fey, and objectively speaking, all of them were quite handsome. Their looks were sharp and angular, traditional of the Fey and alluring in the way that they were surrounded by an air of magic. But the moment you looked into their eyes you knew you didn’t want to be in the room with them any longer than you had to. These men might not have been cruel at the beginning of their lives, but any kindness that might have once lived within them was long gone. And judging by the way their lips puckered in disgust, Loki had undersold their hatred for humans. You didn’t know if Asgard had ever had a human queen before the war, but you’d been warned they weren’t keen on it now. You just hadn’t been ready for them to look at you with more disgust on their faces than most of the people in Odin’s realm did — that was, those who bothered to look at you at all.

“We didn’t realize you were back from your travels, prince Loki,” the Fey man in the middle sneered.

“I arrived yesterday, Tywin” Loki replied curtly, his face impassive as he ignored the jab, “my court was aware.”

You tried not to stare back and forth between the councilmen and Loki. You had assumed that the council and his court were interchangeable, but obviously if they had been, these men would have been aware of his return — his return from where though? And if he had arrived yesterday, then you’d gotten to Asgard not long after he had. Maybe if you’d gotten here sooner you wouldn’t be stuck in this mess…Regardless, you couldn’t help but wonder if your arrivals were a coincidence or if there was something more going on to this whole situation than just a fight for his crown? There had to be a million things he wasn’t telling you, but would any of those things affect your end of the bargain? There were too may questions you didn’t know the answers to and you had to keep your face neutral before your rising worry ruined your scheme and your chances of getting the Hand before it even started.

“And who is this human you’ve brought with you?” Tywin asked, never once giving you any of his attention. He spoke the word as if you were a shameful object Loki had brought with him to use to taunt the council rather than a living, breathing, conscious being.

Loki lolled his head to the side, shooting you a lazy look you took as a signal to answer the Fey’s questions.

You lifted your chin, staring them all down one by one, and spoke slowly, pronouncing each syllable clearly just to make sure they got it, “YN YLN.”

The man’s lip curled, but he didn’t get a chance to speak.

“She will be my queen,” Loki declared.

There was no hesitation or doubt in his voice. It didn’t matter that he needed their approval to take the throne or that they had clearly pointed out that the title no longer belonged to him, he was above these people. They answered to him. Even masked by the bored look on his face, the authority in his voice was so strong, you found yourself believing it. And judging by the frustration on their faces, they did too — even if it was begrudgingly.

“We’ll discuss the technical aspects later,” he decided, his tone suddenly flippant as if he hadn’t just commanded the whole room into silence, “tonight is not meant for business.

He cut through the middle of the crowd and led you to the banquet table at the back of the room, dismissing the rest of the council. The silence lingered and followed you to the table, but slowly, the chatter began again, taking on a life of its own. You let out a since once the music had started again and their gazes were no longer boring into your back. Loki let go of your hand and offered you drink.

You must have looked at the pale red liquid suspiciously because he said, “it’s safe for humans.”

You hated that he seemed to be able to read your expressions so easily.

You grabbed the flute form his hands, the liquid sloshing in the glass before you downed it in a few quick gulps. The taste was sharp and not overly sweet, and went down smoothly. Which meant you had to be careful. You were human. Although your abilities would inherently handle the liquor better than most humans, that was what you were at the moment. Human. One too many drinks and you might do something incredibly stupid.

“Don’t look too pleased to be here,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. You thought it looked like he wanted to tear his hair out, but the look flashed by so quickly you were pretty sure you’d imagined it. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. The arrogance on his made you sure that you had.

He handed you another drink, “try not to spill this one.”

“I hate this place,” you whispered.

“Mingle,” he whispered back, “then you can leave.”

You blew him a kiss and stomped off. It was a pitiful attempt at love and you knew it. You needed to do a better job at pretending to be his queen, knowing that if you didn’t, you would never forgive yourself. But of course, the things you knew and the things you did rarely matched up. It was the reason you were a human stuck in this stupid mess in the first place.

Loki stared at you from across the room but didn’t approach. You tried to keep from rubbing your temples. You’d been in Asgard less than a day and you were already exhausted. You chalked it up to stress, not wanting to admit to yourself what the real was and rolled your shoulders back. You smiled at a passing Fey woman. She smiled back. There. That wasn’t so bad. You had a job to do. Loki wanted convincing? You were going to make it so damned convincing he was going to let you spend the whole day sleeping in tomorrow. You tried not to grind your teeth at the thought that you still needed someone to ‘let you’ do whatever you wanted. You down your drink, set it on the table and grabbed two more from a passing waiter. Once you got this done, you wouldn’t need anyone to let you do anything. You were going to be free again. Nat was going to be free. You could this. You spotted Loki across the room and off you went. You could do this.

Only you didn’t get far. A member of the council stopped you with a hand clamped around your arm. You flinched at the vice-grip. If the Fey man noticed your discomfort, it didn’t bother him enough to let go.

“You’re quite pretty for a human,” he leered, drawing you closer.

He was the youngest of the council members by far, looking about Loki’s age. His sand coloured hair was cut short and styled in a way that showcased his pointed ears and accentuated his ocean blue eyes. He was tall and square, holding himself like a warrior. You didn’t doubt he was one. Nothing about him was kind. Everything was rough looking. The humans had a myth that the other races were all carved from stone by the gods and brought to life through their immortal breath, but this Fey looked like they’d forgotten to polish him off, the lines around his eyes harsh and unfeeling.

It took all of your restraint not to shove him off, only the thought of Nat fending off jerks like this in Flaik keeping your anger in check. You were trained for this. That training might have been buried deep beneath hundreds of years of memories but it was there and it was time you dug it back up and used it.

You patted his arm, your cheeks forced into a smile, “interesting that a man such as yourself would say that.”

HIs lip curled in disgust as if he was insulted you hadn’t swooned over his pathetic excuse of an insult, “why’s that?”

“Because I thought the Fey were supposed to have perfect eyesight. Quite pretty doesn’t cut it for your future queen” you ripped your arm out of his grasp and strode off to where you’d last seen Loki, but he wasn’t there.

Great. Of course he’d left you to fend off these vultures yourself. One day you were going to punch him and you weren’t going to be sorry about it.

“Nicely done,” Loki whispered, standing so close you were practically touching.

You almost jumped out of your skin. You had no clue where he’d come from.

“Don’t patronize me,” you snapped, shoving one of the two glasses at him,  “I don’t need it.”

He peered down at you, but didn’t try and defend himself, “understandable, but you may want my advice. If you can avoid Helio, do. He might be the youngest on the council but that doesn’t mean he’s any better than the rest of them.”

You snorted, “nice court you’ve got here, prince.”

“It’s a lifetime position, remember?” he said, nodding politely to the guests as you walked along the fringes of the party.

You knew he’d told you that before, but this time you deflated, feeling like you’d agreed to a situation that kept getting far more hopeless that you’d realized. He stopped and gave you a little shrug like he knew exactly how you were feeling. For once, there was nothing condescending in his expression and he genuinely seemed to understand. Maybe he did. He needed this to work too. But then again, maybe he didn’t. He was only loosing a title and not the person he loved most in this world.

He extended his hand. You tried to control the jittery feeling that was spreading through your limbs and through your body, making your breaths more and more shallow. Instead, you tried to focus on the fact that what you were doing wasn’t impossible. Improbable, yes, but not impossible. It would only become impossible if you didn’t take his hand and work with him. You didn’t have to like him. Seven hells, you didn’t even have to trust him. All you had to do was stop letting every little thing discourage you and do this with both feet in. You’d find a way to get the hand. You and Nat had gotten through worse. This time would’t be different. It couldn’t be.

You took his arm instead and stood a little closer for effect. The gesture put a little smile on his face. It was the perfect look to convince the council he was besotted and you knew you should do the same. Remembering the lessons from your childhood, you smoothed out the tension you knew must be on your face and told yourself that you hadn’t messed anything up yet. You were human in a Fey’s realm. It was only natural to be a little tense. You could play the part. You could lie just as well as he could.

“What’s the goal tonight?” you asked, voice low so that you wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention from the fey stealing glances at you.

His face was pleasant when he said, “I just need you to be seen.”

“With you?” you tried to clarify, a little put off by the way his tone didn’t match the look on his face.

“No. Just seen,” he brushed back your hair, leaning in so close that you shivered when his lips brushed against your ear, “I don’t trust any of them,” he whispered, “and neither should you.”

You wanted him to say more, but you understood enough to know that making sure you were seen by all the council was a failsafe to make sure nothing happened to you. If they all knew who you were and what you looked like, none of them could claim ignorance if you were kicked out of the palace — or worse. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. Yesterday he had made your deal seem like a piece of cake. Now you were sure he’d lied. Only the worry that your life might be on the line kept you from lashing out in anger.

“If I die, you don’t get to be king,” you reminded him through clenched teeth.

Loki backed off slowly, his movements measured and controlled, “if you died, I couldn’t imagine ever being sane enough to properly rule a kingdom.”

His words were a subtle reminder that despite your distance and the noise in the room, everyone here had Fey hearing and could listen in if they really wanted to — and they probably did. You mentally slapped yourself. You were going to have to start thinking before you spoke.

“Your words are too sweet,” you said, shooting him a pointed look, “but you’re far too strong to lose your sanity over  a human, especially that our love will live on for far long than I will.”

He seemed to realize his mistake and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You narrowed your eyes at him and he shrugged with a little smirk.

“It is your everlasting love that will make me the best king I could possibly be,” he looked like he was enjoying himself far too much and you waited warily for his next words, “after all, sweetheart, I know you’d scale any building for me.”

You placed your hand on your heart for effect. It was better than punching his arm.

“And yet your love is so irresistible, it’s almost as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” you shot back.

He grinned.

“Aren’t you two sweet,” a male voice sneered.

You almost groaned. This had to be another councilman. Loki smirked and mouthed tell it to your face before he turned so that you were facing a man who resembled a boulder both in shape and wit. You were glad it wasn’t Helio again, but this one didn’t seem much better. Still, you managed somewhat a decent smile.

He didn’t wait for either of you to speak before continuing.

“I’d heard a rumour a few moons ago that we were going to have two kings instead of a king and a queen rule Asgard this time. But I don’t know where such a rumour could have come from, especially that you two have known each other for…” he was waiting for an answer, looking between you with a smug grin. You doubted he could have made it more obvious that he was hoping to catch you in a lie because these people didn’t believe you were in love. Whether that was because you were human or because you weren’t the right sex, you were no longer sure. You snuggled even closer to Loki and looked up at him with an expression on your face that you hoped showed nothing other than love.

Loki licked his lips, teeth scraping against his lower lip as he tried to hold back laughter. Your gaze inadvertently dropped to his mouth for too long before you looked back up into his bright eyes. Judging by the strange expression on his face, you weren’t doing a very good job at conveying love, which only made it harder not to scowl.

“Every day I learn something new about her,” Loki crooned, “it feels like we keep meeting over and over…like we just met yesterday.”

There was a victorious little glint in his eyes that you hoped the councilman interpreted as love. All you saw was a challenge to keep up.

You widened your grin, partly afraid it might look a little crazy but going with it anyways, “and yet, at the same time it feels like we’ve known each other for an eternity. I can’t remember what it was like not knowing him.”

You both turned back to face the Fey man and he narrowed his eyes, trying to see beneath the act. You tried to snuggle in a little closer, but with Loki’s hands in his pockets, there wasn’t much more you could do to get closer. He seemed to realize that in the way he stiffened slightly, but neither of you moved, afraid too much fidgeting would make the councilman see something he wouldn’t have otherwise found.

You were afraid the Fey could hear your heart pounding and you waited for him to say something. Finally, it was Loki who spoke instead.

“YN, I would like you to meet councilman Lucius Bonnefort. Lucius, meet your future queen.”  

Lucius grit his teeth. He hadn’t been given a command, but the order from his king was clear. He was to treat you with the respect of any other Fey here. Loki raised a brow, waiting. It looked like Lucius might turn his teeth to dust he was gritting them so hard.

“Pleasure,” was all he muttered before sulking off.

You looked up at Loki and found a frigid expression on his face. His council may have been challenging him but at least they still respected him. The harsh lines on Loki’s face didn’t soften. Maybe it wasn’t respect. Maybe it was fear. You’d gotten a glimpse of his power last night that you didn’t want to relive. Maybe they knew better than to cross their king.

You strolled and mingled with some of the other party guests, but none of the other council members came to see you. It was clear they wanted nothing to do with the two of you, and although Lucius seemed to have bought your answer, you weren’t convinced any of them bought your act. It wasn’t like they wanted to, so why would they? The two of you standing close together wasn’t going to change any of that.

You stopped yourself from rubbing your eyes, trying not to let show how discouraged you were becoming. You’d never been in love. You’d never even had a serious relationship or anything that lasted longer than a couple nights. If this was going to work, you had to think. You couldn’t rely on your own experiences to get you through this. You needed something big. Something that would convince them, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were at least a real couple.

You glanced around the room, looking at all the people who refused to make eye contact with you. As much as you hated it, you needed them to look at you. And you needed to make sure that you did something big when they did. An idea began to take shape in your mind. You didn’t like it, but you were pretty sure it would work.

“Mind if I break one of our rules?” you whispered as softly as you could, catching Loki’s attention.

He leaned back, an amused look on his face. The dip of his head was barely visible but enough to give you the go ahead. You took the drink from his hand and grabbed a knife off the table behind him. Loki observed every movement curiously, no longer seeming quite so bored with the event. You gently tapped the knife against the glass, the hollow ringing echoing throughout the room. It wasn’t hard to get everyone’s attention when more than half of them had been stealing glances at you all evening. You placed the knife gently on the table and you free hand fluttered up instinctively to the pendent resting under your shirt. The weight of it was a strangely comforting reminder that what you were about to do was for the right reasons.

“Hello everyone,” you cleared your throat, hating the way your voice trembled, “I know a toast is a bit of a human tradition, but I was hoping, since I intend to be your queen in a few short moons, that I could say hello with a little tradition of my own. I just wanted to say what a pleasure it has been meeting all of you and I hope to get to know you better in the future. I love Loki more than any of you can imagine, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life here!”

The speech was premature and overconfident at best, but it wasn’t only a statement to prove that you be queen, it was also a message to Loki. You might have gotten caught off guard when you’d broken into the palace, but you were going to walk away with the Hand. You could play these games better than anyone here. You had no choice to, and you had the skills to prove it.

The tentative clapping wasn’t even done when you turned around, placed your drink on the table, grabbed Loki by the face and pulled him in for a kiss. He stiffened under your touch, lips frozen in place. You panicked. What did you just do? You were about to pull away and try to come up with a credible excuse for what had just happened when finally, his hands slipped around your waist and he pulled you closer, kissing you back. You melted into his touch. His lips were soft and gentle, and he let you lead the kiss until you pulled away slowly. You stared into his eyes, not quite sure that you’d actually done that. Loki didn’t say anything, his body oddly stiff. You couldn’t read his expression so you stepped back, his hands lingering a little longer before he let go.  Unnerved by this strange version of Loki, you bopped him on the nose with the tip of your finger, surprising yourself with the gesture. His eyes narrowed but you only grinned, taking your little victories where you could get them.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening!” you announced, reaching around him for you glass and raising it.

You were met with a few wide eyes and bewildered looks, but thankfully, everyone raised their glasses and took a sip. You nodded and smiled, meeting a few eyes before turning back to face Loki. His courtly smile masked whatever he was feeling, and you had no idea whether he was furious or not. He extended an arm. You took it but you didn’t know what to think.

This time, as you walked through the party, you got a few smiles and a few nice to meet yous. You shot a winning smile to a fey man as you passed. Not sure what to do with it, he immediately looked away, flustered. The reaction eased some of the pressure on your chest, but you knew the party was far from over. And judging by the way Loki was deathly silent, you were also going to have to contend with him later. He pulled you into a dark alcove at the far end of the banquet hall, the sounds of the party falling away. Apparently he thought sooner was better than later.

“So that’s how we’re doing this?” he demanded.

You had to crane your neck to look up at him you were so close, your chests practically touching. His eyes were emeralds on fire, and with the ghost of that fake smile still on his lips, the effect was terrifying. Despite the number of the drinks you’d downed, you were aware enough to be wary of it.

“I warned you first,” you blurted out. Hating how defensive you sounded, you took a deep, steadying breath but the way it closed the distance between you did nothing to calm your nerves. If anything, it was almost as if your magics were creating an electric current between your bodies. You didn’t know if he could feel it so you ignored it, “I made the right call. Look at them.”

He learned over you to see around the corner, looking at the crowd who was still talking about your little toast. He smelled like mint and summer nights and you tried not to breathe in the pleasant scent.

He settled back into the alcove and raised a brow, “all for the greater good, right sweetheart?”

The words were spoken like a threat rather than an observation, dangerous and cunning. You swallowed, wondering what you’d just gotten yourself into. Actually, you knew what you’d gotten yourself into and you were doing a damned good job of it. If he thought he could intimidate you out of doing your job and securing the Hand then he was very well mistaken.

You jut your chin up, your faces inches away now, “exactly. Maybe you should keep up Prince Loki.”

He chuckled, his breath tickling your cheek. You mimicked his arrogant brow lift, waning for an answer. He said nothing, leaning in even closer. Your breath hitched and you wondered if he was going to kiss you just to spite you.

“If you’re going to make this a competition,” he whispered with a wolfish glint in his eyes, “then I’m willing to play, sweetheart.”

He pulled you out of the alcove before you had a chance to reply. You didn’t know if you’d just made things harder for yourself, but you’d definitely made them more interesting. Though you weren’t sure more interesting was what you needed.

The crowd parted for you as Loki cut across the room and you cursed your short legs for having so much trouble keeping up. He led you toward the only Fey here who actually looked like an old man. His sharp cheekbones and tight skin had gone soft and wrinkly, and the long hair cascading down past his shoulders was as white as his long beard, both of which resembled the frozen landscape of Niflheim. The fey looked thoughtfully between the two of you as you came to a stop in front of him, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

“You two are certainly something,” the fey said.

“That’s love,” you gushed, taking the lead on the situation.

Loki placed a quick kiss to your temple before making the introductions. The fey was Eamon Loveless, the head councilman and the one who would have the final say on your relationship. For some reason, probably to get back at you, Loki had brought you to the most important person in the room. You straightened. You could do this.

“Prince Loki,” Eamon was looking at you when he spoke, “I must say, when you told us you’d found your future queen, I hadn’t been expecting Miss YLN. You hadn’t quite painted a clear picture.”

You weren’t sure what Eamon was accusing him of, but Loki didn’t look worried. With his hands still in his pockets as if he couldn’t be bothered to take them out, he gave a little shrug.

“I didn’t want to influence your opinion before meeting her,” Loki explained, “but I imagine you could only have been pleasantly surprised.”

Eamon smiled, “I’m glad you’ve found someone else who makes you happy.”

Loki’s arms tightened at his side, squishing your arm in between his. Any more and it would hurt. You tried not to look up at him in surprise. There had been someone else? Who? When? Immediately, Valkyrie flashed through your mind.

“YN is magnificent,” he grit out, obviously affected by the comment.

Suddenly, the two of you were too stiff. Too awkward. You tried for a fond smile. Eamon’s expression never changed so you weren’t sure if you’d achieved it or not. You felt the panic begin to rise. Where was the Loki who had lied so easily to Valkyrie? Where was the king who’d commanded the room? Where was the prick who’s taunted you seconds ago? The silence was dragging on and you had to fight the urge to fill it with useless babbling. Instead, you lifted Loki’s hand from his pocket and interlaced your hands, giving yourself time to think.

“He’s too kind,” you finally said, addressing Eamon, “it was his kindness that first attracted me to him.”

“And how did you meet?” he asked.

Your heart flipped in your chest. You thought you had come up with something clever to fill the silence but really you’d just dug yourselves into an even deeper hole. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. Snapping it shut, you let out a sharp breath that you hoped he misconstrued for a laugh. If this was a competition, then both of you were failing miserably.

“Why don’t you tell the story?” you asked, looking up at Loki.

He looked down at you, eyes glazed over and you weren’t sure he even saw you. You dug your nails into his hand. Hard. The pain must have snapped him out of whatever thoughts he’d been sucked into because that smug little grin returned. You’d never thought you’d actually be glad to see it.

“It feels like it was yesterday,” his eyes were bright as if he found himself amusing, “I was in Midgard visiting King Earl and she was a maid.”

“So he thought,” you interrupted, doing your best not to glare at him. At least he was out of whatever that was, even if it meant he was back to annoying you, “I was actually a soldier in the king’s guard and I knocked Loki flat on his ass for his mistake.”

The fey’s eyes widened. Loki chuckled. He didn’t seemed bothered by your comment. If anything, it looked more like he was warming up to the idea of your little competition.

“That was only because I was stunned by her incredible beauty,” he explained.

“And my skill apparently.”

You thought he was going to offer another counterpoint, but instead he nodded, “it’s all true. Though I must say, normally we’re more evenly matched.”

Eamon nodded slowly, dark eyes taking in everything, “and what happened next?”

“I asked her to dinner,” Loki answered simply and you thought that was going to be that, but he wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily, “but she said no.”

“No?” Eamon asked, surprised.

By now your little story had gathered a small crowd and everyone was looking at you expectantly. The human who’d turned down the future king of Asgard. You couldn’t glare at Loki, fearing you’d give something away, but you knew he was grinning, watching you squirm. You’d told hm to keep up. You should’ve expected that a king would play to win.

You shrugged, “I didn’t think we’d have anything in common. And I was busy.”

The last comment earned a few chuckled from the crowd and you lifted your free hand, palm up, as if to say what could I do about it.

Loki took over, “the next time I went back to Midgard, she realized that maybe she’d been too hasty to turn me down, and she asked me to dinner instead.”

“When someone looks this good, how are you supposed to say no,” you laughed, lifting onto your toes and kissing him on the cheek, “and he was so eager, it was adorable. He said yes immediately.”

He turned and stared at you as if you were the only person in the room. You were caught off guard by the intensity of it and you couldn’t look away. It was a dangerous game you were playing. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. You smirked.

“Eventually, we did go to dinner and got to know each other better,” he continued, turning to face the ever growing crowd, “turns out we had a lot more in common that she originally thought.”

The crowd laughed at his callback and you almost sighed with relief. The councilmen might not have bought the act yet, but at least the other nobles were beginning to seem convinced.

“It wasn’t love at first sight,” you murmured, knowing you didn’t have to speak loudly for them to hear, “but I think it’s something so much better than that,”

He tilted his head and looked at you with that half smirk and a glint in his eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you almost would have thought he was impressed. You grinned, hoping your smug look of victory came across as loving. You were good at this, and most importantly, now he knew it too. Just because he needed a queen, didn’t mean he couldn’t easily replace you if this wasn’t working out. You weren’t going to give him any reason to change his mind.

The councilman’s face was still silent and impassive. All you could hear was the heavy beat of your heart as you waited to see if he’d bought any of it.

A gentle smile softened Eamon’s expression and you almost squeed Loki’s hand with relief.

“You two seem to complement each other quite nicely,” Eamon said, “almost as if you were fated to meet.”

This time your smile was genuine. The orange moon was still far away, but at least you were headed in the right direction to get Nat out of Niflheim. Loki let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. You tried not to be stiff, but it was hard when you were hyper aware of every place that your bodies connected. You’d never been affectionate, even with Nat, so you found yourself over analyzing your posture, wondering how credible you could really be. Loki on the other hand seemed completely at ease, fingers drawing little circles on your side.

“I’m positive you will like it here in Asgard, Miss YLN. Although I’m sure you must find our realm a little strange,” Eamon continued.

His words let you know you weren’t doing a very good job at masking your discomfort.

“I’m fine as long as Loki is here with me,” you tentatively rested your head on his shoulder. It seemed like the right thing to do.

“YN is fine no matter what,” Loki affirmed, “she’s the strongest person I know, fey and human alike.”

You wanted to scoff at such a lie, but it was cut short when you saw the admiration in everyone’s eyes, even the councilman. For some reason, Loki seemed to be able to sell love far better than you could and you looked up to see just what you were missing. His eyes were wide and filled with puppy-like innocence that didn’t at all suit the fey you’d met and spent time with. The crowd didn’t seem to agree. It was a good reminder of his skills as a liar and how little you could actually trust him.

“I must admit that I was worried when I saw that your future queen was human,” Eamon shot an apologetic smile your way, “but I must say that your confidence has inspired me, Prince Loki. I’m looking forward to seeing how both of you manage with your trials in the future.”

Loki tensed at your side, but you didn’t know why. Eamon’s words were a good thing. He wanted to see how you’d overcome obstacles in the future which meant that he wasn’t ready to kick you out of the palace just yet. That might have only made one council member, but you had to start somewhere.

“And we’ll do it with grace and dignity,” you beamed, your cheeks sore from all the fake smiling.

Eamon nodded and wished you a good rest of evening, and with that, the crowd seemed to disperse as well. You stepped out of Loki’s arms and walked off to the banquet table in search of food and a reason to stand facing the windows, desperate for a break in the whole act.

“I think that went well,” you murmured when you felt Loki walk up beside you.

“Not bad,” he agreed, “you’re almost as good at this as I am, sweetheart.”

You snorted, “better, prince. Better.”

“We’ll have to see about that,” he promised, “get ready. Here’s another councilman. Three down, two to go.”

You sighed and popped a small berry that looked like a grape into your mouth. You rolled back your shoulders.

“Ready.”

You both turned around at the same time, wide smiles on your faces.

“So that’s it then?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe to the banquet hall.

Your legs could barely keep you standing and you could feel the soft pulses of a headache coming on. The party was dwindling, but all of the council members were still mingling with the remaining guests. When you’d asked, Loki had said that he’d wanted to stay until they had all gone. All you wanted to do was eat a real meal and go to bed. If you could, you wanted to try and find the Hand first, but really, there was nothing you wanted more than food and sleep. But none of that mattered. You were stuck here.

“You look tired,” Loki remarked, but when you opened your eyes, he was scanning the crowd thoughtfully.

“Human,” you answered and hoped it was enough of an explanation that he wouldn’t press for the real reason.

“True,” he hummed, “I forget sometimes by the way you stare down the council as if you’re ready to fight them all at once. It’s not wonder none of the other guests were brave enough to approach.”

You were about to retort but realized he had a point. And you were too tired to say anything. You let your head fall back on to the wall and closed your eyes.

“I’ll work on it,” you muttered.

He didn’t say anything. Only when you opened your eyes a few moments later thinking maybe he’d left you standing alone did he say, “why don’t we head out?”

You pushed off the doorway, “yes.”

He chuckled and offered you an arm, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this enthusiastic.”

“Well, you’ve never threatened me with a good time before,” you took his arm, surprised by how familiar the gesture had already become.

“And what do you think I’m offering you now?” he asked.

“A meal and a bed, hopefully.”

He raised a brow.

You smacked his arm, “not yours.”

“So yours then,” he smirked.

You smacked him again or good measure.

“We’re not saying goodbye?” you asked when you noticed you were headed away from the party.

“We can always turn back.”

You pulled him along, “don’t you dare.”

Loki slowed his stride and let YN set the pace. She looked exhausted and he felt bad for not having realized sooner the extent of what he’d asked of her. He should have warned her earlier about the councilmen or at least given her more information about what she was going to expect but he’d been too afraid she’d decide the Hand wasn’t worth it and leave him stranded. And despite all that, she’d done amazing in there. She’d even made a party with the council bearable, which was something he didn’t think he’d ever say. It didn’t matter that she’d made her stance on the whole situation very clear by glaring at him every chance she got, the crowd seemed to love her. Which was far more than he could saw of himself. As soon as Eamon had mentioned Cortese he’d frozen up, lost in memories. The only reason no one had questioned his behaviour was because YN had brought him back fast enough that it wasn’t too suspicious and the fact that he was king. Or used to be. If he didn’t start acting like he was in love, all the power in the world wouldn’t make him king of Asgard again. Hela had made sure of that.

Despite having a million other things to do tonight, he wanted nothing other than an early night and a peaceful sleep. But with Hela whispering in the council’s ear day and night, along with the imminent war Gamora had foreseen, Loki hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in moons.

He looked over at YN who’d been quiet since they’d left the hall. She’d done more than enough tonight. He didn’t have to drag her with him.

“YN?”

“Hmm?”

When he looked down at her, he realized her eyes were closed and that she was letting him guide her. Loki was only surprised for a moment before he remembered always seeing her with a glass in her hands. Obviously what she was feeling wasn’t trust.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

Her brows furrowed but her eyes still didn’t open, “when?”

“Right now.”

That got her attention.

“Eat and sleep,” she replied without thought.

She didn’t say it aloud, but Loki knew she also wanted to be alone. He could see it on her face and the way she’d let out a small sigh when they’d first walked into the silent hallway. He understood the need more than she could imagine.

“I can have dinner sent up to your room…or we can do something else if you prefer?” he added quickly when her face pinched into a strange expression he couldn’t read.

“No,” she blurted out and then stated more calmly, the first option’s fine. Are you joining?”

He shook his head, “only if you’d like me too.”

She seemed to hesitate, looking at the walls as if they physically had ears.

He saved her from having to find a clever way to turn him down, “actually, I have things to take care of tonight and I have to return to the banquet hall. Do you know the way back to your room?”

She nodded so quickly Loki almost laughed. She was a terrible liar. He didn’t know where the performance in the council room had come from, but he had no doubts she was lying to him now. The prospect of being on her own seemed to have rejuvenated her. She straightened, cricking her neck from side to side and scratching over her shoulder. She obviously wanted to take a look around — without him around of course.

“Explore or don’t,” he said, truly meaning it, “the council knows who you are now, so no one will kick you out of the palace if they see you snooping around.”

“Who says I’ll be snooping?” she yawned for effect, “I was planning on getting an early night.”

This time he couldn’t help but laugh, “sure. Goodnight YN. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Her face fell.

“Don’t worry, it’s only breakfast,” he reassured her, omitting the fact that they had a meeting after breakfast. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. It was no secret that she didn’t trust him. He didn’t blame her. He was lying and he didn’t trust her either.

“Only with you?” she clarified.

“Only with me,” he echoed.

That seemed to appease her and she was about to leave when something occurred to him. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She paused, “only if I can ask you one.”

“Fair enough,” he amended, “would you spar with me some time?”

Loki had been surprised when she’d said that she was a soldier and he was more than a little curious to know how many of her lies had been based in truth. She’d shut down all his earlier attempts at getting to know her better and he was certain she’d do her best to keep it that way. So he figured he would have to be more clever about it.

He was surprised, and pleased, when she nodded.

“I would like that.”

“Good,” he murmured, afraid that if he said anything else she might change her mind, “your turn.”

“What Lucius said about…” she didn’t finished her sentence but she didn’t have to. He knew what she was talking about.

“He likes to speak out of turn,” Loki paused, choosing his words carefully. There was no one else in the hallway, but this was information that his future queen should have already known, “some of the council members haven’t always been supportive of the fact that there was an equal chance that there could have been two kings on the throne or a king and a queen. Even if fate decided to bring you into my life, those council members still seem bitter about my personal preferences..

She nodded slowly, taking the information in. There wasn’t much other than a thoughtful expression on her face and Loki was relieved. This whole thing would have been finished if she had reacted any other way.

“Has there ever been two kings or two queens in Asgard?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he smirked, “but love is love. And in Asgard, that’s the only requirement. There’s nothing they could say or do about it.”

Her face softened and she took his hand. The gesture surprised him, even more so when she gave it a little squeeze, “as it should be. Goodnight prince.”

And then she walked off in the wrong direction.

When he pointed that out, she looked back over her shoulder, an innocent smile on her face that didn’t match the mischief in her eyes, “just taking a little detour, don’t worry about it.”

He was probably going to worry about it later, but he watched her walk away. He’d promised himself that he’d give her as much freedom as was safe for her and his realm. There was no way she’d find the Hand on her own, so he had to trust that she wasn’t really and threat and that she’d be safe after what he was about to do.

When he couldn’t hear her steps anymore, he turned back to the council room. No one reacted when he walked in.

Hela had made her move less than a moon ago, but the council had taken that opportunity whole-heartedly to remind him that he was no longer king. He was only a prince temporarily in charge of the realm, but he wasn’t going to lose his position. He refused to let his people fall into Hela’s hands. Loki had never wanted the crown, but now that he’d had it, he was going to make damn well sure that he kept it. His brother had asked for that much.

“Listen closely.”

Loki didn’t need to shout. His voice carried throughout the room, his tone reminding them that he had once been their king. And with reason. He was far more powerful than everyone in this room, even some of them combined.

“No one touches YN,” he warned, his words slow and deliberate. He found every set of eyes in the room, making sure they all felt seen, “she will be your future queen. There is no doubt about it in my mind. And she might not have a long lifespan, but I have a long memory. You will treat her with the same respect as you did my mother. You’ve been warned.”

He didn’t give them a chance to answer and walked back out of the room. Loki didn’t think any of them would go outright and kill her, but he knew enough of them were power hungry bigots to do something stupid. Thankfully, the council was still wary of him even if he wasn’t their king any more. He could rest easier knowing they’d been warned and his own court was keeping an eye on YN most of the time. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but he wasn’t going to lock her up or stop her from roaming the palace, even if it did cost him his title.  

He strode through the palace, not sure where he was heading and not sure what to do with himself. His whole body felt two sizes too small and he couldn’t shake the feeling. There were so many other things he had to do, but he couldn’t make himself decide on one. Only the thought of his bead was appealing, and even then, he was too restless to really consider it.

“I saw your queen,” Nebula said, falling into step beside him.

She was still dressed in her commanders uniform, dirt smudged over her eyebrow. She’d been sparring with the soldiers again. Not that he was surprised. She been so grumpy this morning that he pitied his army; though at least he knew they’d be prepared to face anything. There were very few things that were more terrifying than his commander when she was angry.

“Where was she?” he asked.

Nebula’s voice was clipped, her mood no better than it was this morning, “roaming the halls, looking incredibly suspicious.”

Loki threw up a magical sound bubble that would contain their voices. Knowing how suspicious it looked, he didn’t like to do it often, even if it was now the second time he’d done it today, but he knew she wasn’t about to let this go. Feeling the magic, she waited until it snapped into place.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said with a laugh, knowing that just because they couldn’t be heard didn’t mean they couldn’t be seen.

Nebula crossed her arms, keeping up with his long strides, “she wants the Hand, Loki.”

He waved away her worry, “it’s safe.”

“What makes you think she won’t get it?”

He shot her a look. They both knew who was guarding it. There was no way anyone was getting it — human or otherwise. His answer didn’t seem to satisfy her.

“Who says she’s not a spy?” she continued, her voice rising with irritation, “who says she’s not here for the book to give it to Hela? Who says we even have the right woman?”

Loki tried not to pinch the bridge of his nose. Nebula was right to be concerned; there was a reason he’d appointed her as commander. Still, he found himself saying with more confidence than he felt, “I wanted to know how to prevent Hela from winning over the crown and it gave me her name. She has to be the future queen.”

“Did you ever stop to consider that maybe we need to kill her and not work with her?” Nebula demanded.

The words were harsh, but valid. Yet Loki knew Nebula wouldn’t actually go through with it. As far as they knew, YN was innocent, despite wanting the Hand. And he was sure she was an ally, not an enemy. He couldn’t explain why he was so certain, but he’d decided it the moment he’d met her. However, it wasn’t like he could explain that to Nebula. She would need something far more concrete than a gut feeling.

“You’re being rash,” she continued.

He realized she was steering them toward the kitchen and his stomach growled in anticipation. He wasn’t sure how she did it, or if she was even aware she was doing it, but Nebula had a way of knowing what was best for their court, even if her harsh demeanour didn’t always make it very evident.

“Says the woman who wants to kill the future queen,” he countered.

“She wouldn’t be the future queen if you had thought things through,” she growled, stopping him a hand to his chest, “we’re walking a thing line here, Loki.”

“I know that! But I needed to present my queen today and she showed up just in time. Don’t you think there’s something to that?” Loki’s voice was rising and his control was slipping. The bubble around them almost dropped in the burst of emotion.

She poked him in the chest, but she’d lost all bite at his outburst. They were both tired and running through this blind. Arguing wouldn’t help any of them see things clearer.

“We had a backup plan,” she murmured.

“You would have been miserable as queen,” he shot her a smile, “especially that you would have to admit that you find me incredibly attractive.”

She punched him on the arm, “I’m a good liar.”

“Very true,” he laughed, “but this is the best option, Nebula. Trust me.” Loki wasn’t sure that he trusted himself, but he had to believe he was doing the right thing. And if he wasn’t, at least he knew his court was there to help with his mistakes — and to make sure he never forgot them, “and I’ll stay on my guard with YN.”

She sighed reluctantly, but finally looked convinced, “okay.”

“Okay,” he changed the subject, “what have the citizens been saying?”

“They’ll fight if it comes to war again. I tried to reassure them that nothing was wrong and that we were just gathering information, but they know something’s coming. They can feel it,” Nebula shrugged, “Hela’s arrival’s made them all uneasy.”

He nodded slowly and sighed, “better they’re wary than oblivious.”

“They’d better be wary,” Nebula said with a printed look, “you have a human for a future queen and she was stupid enough to agree to the trials. You’d better hope you were right about what that thing meant when it gave you the word YN.”

Loki could only nod and let the magic bubble drop. He was about to follow her into the kitchen when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. The hallway was empty, but he could have sworn he’d seen something. He listened closely, waiting to see if whoever it was might give themselves away.

“Are you coming?” Nebula called from the kitchen.

He heard the banging of pots and decided he’d better go inside before she decided to start cooking and accidentally set the palace on fire. With one last look around, he walked into the kitchen.

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

Fake dating/marriage + "Maybe, just maybe, if I get a free drink I might consider talking to you." for Rowaelin PLEASEE

note: thank you for the prompt, love! I'm so sorry this took so long. I'm a little proud of the way it turned out tho. if you'd like to check out my other fics, here's the Masterlist!

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Rowan is exhausted by the time he reaches his apartment—the sleepless nights catching up to him. He has had a bad week and he is looking forward to spending his weekend locked up in his bedroom when the sound of a text makes him groan to himself. Rowan only knows one person who still texts him, aware of his dislike for texting. He pulls his phone out to see a message from Aelin: I need a favour. Rowan is tempted to ignore the message but given her hatred for him, it has to be something important if she asked.

He replies: What have you done now? She is a little hellion after all. Rowan regrets the day he agreed to go on a blind date with her.

Lysandra insisted they go on a date together and he had always thought she was beautiful and he'd agreed. The date had gone horrible as could be. Rowan showed up late because of traffic, the food was cold and tasteless and Rowan managed to forget his wallet home. In hopes of redeeming himself, he proposed a romantic walk around the beach and get ice cream except the ice cream shop was closed and it rained, drenching them both in cold water. As if it wasn't bad enough, his car broke down in the middle of nowhere when he tried to drop her off. Ever since, Aelin texts him after every date to give tips on how to not be a total disaster.

And gods, the woman can get under his skin like no one else ever has.

His phone rings, Aelin's name flashing on his screen before he picks up, grateful that for once she decided not to text. She says by way of greeting, "Look, I ran into my ex and mentioned I have a boyfriend. He thinks I'm shitting him and I need you to come "pick me up" so I can shove our relationship in his face. Pleaseeee?" Rowan isn't sure if he's more annoyed or amused.

He settles on amused. "And why do you need me for this? Why only me?"

Aelin huffs in annoyance and there's complete silence on the other line before she admits, "I bragged a little too much about how hot he is and now, no one fits the bill but you." Yep, definitely amused.

"You think I'm hot?"

"You know you're hot. You shouldn't need me to tell you that." Another huff from her side. "So will you help or not?"

Rowan considers it. The idea of hanging up is tempting but she's desperate. He doesn't need her hating him more. "Maybe, just maybe, if I get a free drink, I might consider talking to you." He sits up, still dressed well enough to pick up his girlfriend. "I'll charge extra for pretending to be a perfect boyfriend."

"Name your price."

Rowan only smiles. "I'll let you know when I get there."

The nightclub Aelin's at is close enough to his apartment that it takes less than fifteen minutes to get there. It's an expensive place for people with lavish tastes—the kind Rowan would never be caught dead at. Everything from drinks to decorations screams Aelin. He's not surprised this is the club she hangs out at. It's as ridiculous and fancy and over-the-top as her. He spots her leaning against a wall, her face turned towards someone.

She wears an off-shouldered black dress with a dangerously high slit in it. Her blonde hair tied in an elegant side bun, she looks prettier than he remembered.

She looks in the middle of a tense, unwanted conversation when Rowan arrived. "Aelin! There you are." He hopes his smile is convincing enough.

Rowan doesn't like the way she looks with her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive manner, her lips pressed into a thin line and eyes trained on the floor. She has shrunk into herself, made herself small and fragile and timid. She looks unlike the fiery spirit who sends him tips on how to plan a good date every so often just out of spite because he fucked up one evening of her life months ago. He decides immediately that he hates whoever makes her feel like this person in front of him because this is certainly not the Aelin he knows.

To his pleasure, Aelin relaxes the moment she notices him. "Rowan! Just the guy I wanted to see." Then she rises on her toes, kissing him on the cheek.

Rowan hoped he looked better than he felt, his insides in a turmoil even once Aelin pulled back. "Sorry I'm late, love. Traffic was insane."

She placed a comforting hand on his arm, jerking her chin towards her companion. "Ro, that's Chaol Westfall. Chaol, this is Rowan. My boyfriend." As if to back her words up, she puts an arm around his waist and pulls him closer. Rowan lets her do as she pleases.

Chaol extends a hand. "Nice to meet you, Rowan. Aelin talks about you a lot."

"Yeah? She didn't mention you much and that's saying something considering we've been dating for almost ten months now." That was around the time the two of them went on that damned date. Chaol couldn't have dated her after the whole thing because thanks to Aelin's insulting little tips, he knows about all the guys she's gone on a date with and if he's as bad as he seems, he'd have remembered Aelin talking about him.

One look at her confirms his suspicions. Aelin quirks an eyebrow when he brings her a drink. You're having too much fun with this whole thing.

Yeah, well, Rowan shrugs, I might as well enjoy this. The guy's an asshole.

Aelin nods, taking another sip of her drink as the three of them decided to sit down for drinks. Rowan is feeling underdressed in this place, especially with Aelin looking like a literal goddess by his side.

Chaol beats around the bush with easy questions about his job and all until: "No offense, Rowan, but you don't seem like Aelin's usual type."

"None taken. People's tastes do tend to improve over time." Aelin chokes on her drink and Rowan feels a little bad for being mean to a man he barely knows but then he remembers the way Aelin looked when he entered and the flushed look on Chaol's face makes his forget about all the shit he's had to deal with this week. He probably shouldn't be having as much fun with this as he is.

Aelin loops an arm around Rowan's. "I think we should go home now." She downs the rest of her shot in one big gulp before rising from her seat.

She turns towards Rowan, eyes shining under the dim lights of the private booth. She smells of alcohol and something sweet and floral—jasmine, maybe?—eyes shining alight with a question he can read in her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. Can I kiss you?Rowan can feel Chaol's eyes fixed on his back but when he nods, he finds that it has little to do with pissing a stranger off and a lot to do with Aelin.

Aelin kisses him and his whole world erupts into fireworks. From the second their lips touch, there's only her and her lips and her hands roving his back and that gods damned scent driving him insane. He doesn't know why she's kissing him but Rowan is not kissing her to piss someone off or to prove a point. He wonders how this evening would've played out if that night hadn't gone to shit—if this kiss would have been real instead of pretend, if they would have lasted ten months. He's terrified of finding out.

Rowan almost groans when he pulls back. The grin on her face strikes him stupid. She whispers in his ear, "How's that for payment?" Aelin grabs his hand, leading him out of the club.

He doesn't spare a look at Chaol, doesn't miss a single beat as he replies: "Hmm, I need more for all the insults I pulled." They are almost outside when Rowan continues, "How about a chance? I want a chance to change your mind. You, me, another date. I'm sorry the last one went as bad as it did and you probably hate me and you're gonna say no, of course—"

"I don't hate you."

He's not sure he heard her right. "Huh?"

"I don't hate you," Aelin repeats. "None of that was your fault. It was a bad day is all. I waited two weeks for you to ask me out again to make up for it though. When you didn't, I took matters into my own hands to text you about the only thing I could think of."

Rowan gapes. "Pardon? You're telling me the whole tips ploy was what? A ruse?" His mouth hangs open.

"To keep us talking, yes. Besides, it was fun pissing you off," Aelin says.

He did always think it was strange how for someone who claimed to be so mad about having wasted one evening on a bad date, she sure spent a lot of time sending him tips and bantering with him over texts afterwards. He had apologized to her numerous times afterwards but he'd never considered that she might still want another date. To think of all the months he'd wasted.

He shakes his head but he's smiling. "Will you go on a date with me, Aelin?"

She chuckles, face brightening. "I can honestly say there's nothing I want more." As the two of them part ways, Aelin kisses him on the cheek. Rowan watches her leave silently, a big smile on his face. No more wasting time, he promises himself.

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[sinnamonn]

Welcome to Hell: Ch 1.

Word count: 2.8K

A 20 year old gets isekaied to hell and has to attend private school with a bunch of demons who’re assholes and they hate it here.

Gia did not want to be here.

Wherever ‘here’ was, exactly.

‘What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck!?’ Their eyes frantically darted around their surroundings, they were in some kind of courtroom? An overly fancy courtroom surrounded by a bunch of men.

Were...were they on trial? Did they finally commit a war crime?

“Welcome to the Devildom, Gia.”

The redhead jumped as someone spoke from their blind spot.

Their blind spot-? Oh god Gia didn’t have their glass eye in! Quickly, they shut their left eye tight and moved their hair to cover it. No one wanted to see their hollow socket, that was gross.

“...Oh, pardon me, feeling a bit shocked are we?” This person continued. Gia turned to see a tall, broad man in by far the ugliest military-esque uniform they had ever seen. He continued, more so talking at them than to them, “Well, that’s understandable, you’ve only just arrived after all. As a human it will probably take a little while for you to adjust to things in the Devildom.”

What the absolute hell was this guy talking about!?

“Wha…? Am I hallucinating?” Gia asked, finally breaking out of their shocked silence. That had to be the answer; Gia snapped and their fractured mind conjured up this delusion to cope. Or maybe it was the new ADHD meds? They didn’t remember any of the side effects being hallucinations, but you never know, right?

That statement earned a laugh from the man, “That...That’s such a human thing to say! Outstanding!” He happily exclaimed, “I have a feeling you might be just the sort of person we’re looking for!”

‘Looking for?’ Gia thought, more anxiety settling in them. Was this a human trafficking situation? Were they sold to these weirdos?! “Who are you? And where the hell am I?” They asked cautiously, if this was a human trafficking deal, then they would need to be extra careful, especially since this guy was kinda off. In kidnapping situations, the best way to guarantee survival is to not fight, earn your kidnapper’s trust, and wait for the right opportunity to escape.

At least, that’s what was drilled into them by their mother and the true crime documentaries they watched in their spare time.

“Right, I suppose I should start by introducing myself. I am Diavolo, the ruler of all demons, and all here know my name,” ‘Diavolo’ explained, “and as for where you are, you’ve more or less answered that yourself.”

Gia blinked a few times, processing what he just said, “I’m...in Hell?

Oh.

“Yes, but we refer to it as the Devildom, and soon I’ll be crowned it’s king.”

Oh!?

Gia looked around, their eye landing on a balcony overlooking a large town; and when they moved their head to the left a little more there was a giant castle.

This place was Hell?

Diavolo kept speaking, “This is the Royal Academy of Diavolo...or RAd for short…,”

Gia only half listened. They were in Hell, the only way to get to Hell was by dying and that meant that Gia themself was dead. How did they die? Did their lack of memory imply that the redhead died in their sleep? That would explain why their eye was out and why they had on the oversized Rob Zombie sweatshirt their dad left them.

Beside that, Hell was a lot nicer than they expected. When Gia thought of ‘Hell’ they imagined way more fire, brimstone, and screams of the damned; not some fancy private school run by a monarch. Well, they supposed that private school was a type of hell in itself, but still this was unexpected.

“I’m the president of said council,”

Of course he was the one running things, then maybe he knew how they ended up here?

“So,um, how did I die...and why am I here?” They asked, god that sounded weird.

“Excuse me?” Diavolo asked

“How did I die and why am I here?” Gia repeated, “I mean, I always figured I’d go to Hell, but I wanna at least know how I got here.”

Another man came into their view, and he looked far more intimidating than Diavolo, “I will explain everything to you, first being that you’re still very much alive.” He said, Gia immediately didn’t like him, he had a high and mighty way of speaking, almost like he was talking down to them. He just had all around bad vibes.

“Gia, this is Lucifer, he’s a demon and the Avatar of Pride.” Diavolo introduced the Bad Vibes Man.

Well, no shit this guy was a demon, they were in Hell after all. But ‘Avatar of Pride’? What did that mean?

“He’s also the Vice President of the student council and my right hand man...not just in title, I assure you.” He continued

So they were fucking?

“Beyond that, he’s also my most trusted friend!”

That statement earned a sigh from Lucifer, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Diavolo.”

They were absolutely fucking.

Lucifer’s attention turned back to the redhead, a fake smile plastered on his face, “On behalf of the entire student body at this great and storied school of ours, I offer you a most heartfelt welcome, Gia.”

He totally memorized a script.

Gia stared up at him with a blank look, “Answer my other question, why am I here if I’m not dead?”

That earned a light chuckle from the demon, “Interesting, you’re quite different from Solomon.”

Who the hell was Solomon!?

Lucifer continued, “Diavolo believes we should start strengthening our relationship with the other realms. As a first step towards this goal, we’ve decided to institute an exchange program. We’ve sent two of our kind to the Human Realm and two to the Celestial Realm.” He explained, “And we’re welcoming four students to our school, two from your world and two from the Celestial Realm.”

Wait, Gia never signed up for any damn exchange program! You can’t just warp people to different realms without consent, right?!

“Ok...I’m connecting the dots now. But why me? I don’t remember signing up for anything,” they said, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of their sweatshirt, “much less an exchange program to He-The Devildom.” They corrected themselves.

“This isn’t something one signs up for,” Diavolo chimed in, “You just happened to fit all the criteria we were looking for.”

A one eyed, goth enby was what they were looking for? That sounded like bullshit.

“Your period of stay is one year,” Lucifer continued, “You will work on tasks you receive from RAD, and afterwards you’ll write a paper on your stay.”

“One year!?” Gia exclaimed, “I can’t say here that long! I have a life back in the human world and you can’t just rip me away from that!”

“Oh?” Lucifer’s gazed sharpened at them, “From our research, you’re life didn’t exactly have much going, you’re not in school, you work on commission, and you don’t seem to have any friends.”

He did not have to go there on that last part.

“My family will wonder where I am...and I still have people who depend on me.” Gia argued back, glaring back at Lucifer.

“‘People’?” Lucifer questioned in a way that made Gia know that he knew that statement was only a half truth, “You mean the stray cats that come crying to you for food every evening?”

Wow, Gia never wanted to throat punch anyone so badly.

“You forgot about the possum I’ve been domesticating and my garden snails.” Gia smirked, “What about it?”

This

Nope, they were not going to show weakness, not to some seven deadly sin motherfucker, not to some demon prince, not to anyone. Lucifer only shook his head, “Now, you should know that you won’t be alone here, you’ll be looked after by my brother Mammon, Avatar of Greed.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be an iPhone, placing it into their hands, “You’ll need this, it’s a D.D.D, it’s a lot like the cellphones from your world. It’s yours during your stay here.” Lucifer explained, “Now go ahead and call Mammon.”

“O...Ok....” Gia replied, opening the device with ease. Lucifer wasn’t lying, this thing was nearly identical to the cellphones back in her world. They easily found their contacts list and Mammon’s number. Now for the hard part, actually talking on the phone.

Don’t show weakness around the demons, if Gia did that they’d be eaten alive. Don’t be the person who sassed a high ranking demon but can’t talk on the phone. That would be embarrassing.

They pressed call, waiting with bated breath as it rang. After what seemed like forever ( it was twenty seconds), “Mammon” picked up.

“Yooo.”

Wow, this guy seemed nothing like Lucifer and Diavolo, maybe he was cool?

“Uh, hey…” Gia answered nervously.

“Eh? Are ya foolin’ around? Who the hell are ya?!”

“I’m the human from the ‘exchange program’,” they explained quickly, “and apparently your problem now.”

“Whaa? A human?” He sounded like he sighed in relief on the other end, “geez, I was gettin’ all chilly thinking it was Lucifer again. Ya should have told me earlier! Also, go be someone else’s problem, nothing’ in it for me. See ya.”

Nope, he was an asshole too. Great.

“Wait--! Lucifer called for you!” Gia stammered.

“Pfft, whatever,” Mammon groaned, “ya think THE Mammon would listen to ya just cause you’re tryin’ to scare me with that name?”

Before Gia could reply, Lucifer took the D.D.D from them, looking annoyed, “You’ve got ten seconds....nine....eight....”

Mammon must have changed his mind because Lucifer handed back the D.D.D, that signature fake smile back on his face. “You two seemed to have a nice chat.”

“Your brother is a dick.” Gia stated bluntly, earning some muffled laughter from the others they couldn’t see.

“That’s one way to put it…” Lucifer replied, rubbing his temples.

“”But you shouldn’t worry to much, Mammon won’t be the only one helping you out,” Diavolo added, turning to Lucifer, “you still need to introduce our new friend to the rest of your brothers!”

Gia could see the life leaving Lucifer’s eyes, “As much as I dread the idea of doing so, you’re right.”

Oh, god there were more of them? !

Suddenly, a new demon came into view, the only way Gia could describe him was soft. He looked like a soft boy™, his hair was a fluffy light brown and his bright amber eyes pierced through them. “Oh come now. Really? You should be honored to get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!” He pouted.

“Gia, this is Asmodeus, fifth eldest and the Avatar of Lust.” Lucifer completely ignored the other demon’s statement. Asmodeus didn’t seem to like that and complained more, truly a younger sibling at their finest.

“Hmph, at least he didn’t ignore you all together. How do you think I feel?” Questioned another, this one blonde and wearing a bowtie. Yet another soft looking boy, Gia was beginning to find it harder to see these guys as legit demons.

“And that one is Satan,” Lucifer continued, “he’s the fourth born, he may seem like responsible demon with a good head on his shoulders, but looks can be deceiving.”

Satan shot Lucifer a dirty look, “Really?” I’m the deceiving one?” He sneered, but it was replaced quickly by a polite smile when he turned back to Gia, “Nice to meet you, Gia, I’m Satan, Avatar of Wrath.”

Wrath? This guy was wrath? He didn’t give off ‘wrath’ vibes at all. To be completely honest Gia guessed he’d be the Avatar of Envy what with his green eyes, nails, and shirt. Archetypal symbolism meant nothing here, then?

Awkwardly, Gia extended their hand to the, “So...Lust and Wrath, huh?” They said though it came off more as a question. Satan went to reciprocate the gesture, but he was cut off by Asmodeus; he took the small human’s hand, lacing his fingers between theirs and completely invading Gia’s personal space.

“That’s right~! Lust is what I’m all about, including my power.” He cheerfully explained, “In fact, let’s give a little demonstration!”

The demon moved to close the gap between them.

“Hey--wait sec-!”

He ignored them, going to move the hair obscuring their eye, “Gia, could you-why are you closing your eye so hard? Are you winking at me?”

Gia yanked themself away from him, wanting desperately to put more distance between the two and avoiding eye contact with Asmodeus.

“No, I’m just missing it.” They replied simply. That statement seemed to take everyone aback.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that…” Lucifer stated

Just when Gia thought the whole ‘fitting the criteria’ thing was bullshit, Lucifer goes and says that.

“You studied me enough to know my only friends were cats, snails, and a possum, but not enough to know that I’m missing an eye?” Gia asked, sounding rightfully exasperated.

“W-Well in all your photos you had both of them.” Diavolo said, trying to defend Lucifer. Ignoring the very, very creepy implications of that Gia replied, shrugging, “That was a glass eye, guess I was summoned here before I had a chance to put it back in.”

“Eh? Why would you even take it out?” Asmo shuttered.

“Gotta wash it.” They answered.

They jumped as they felt a hand on their left shoulder, letting out a small squeak they hoped that no one caught. These guys were just gonna ignore the fact they were blind on that side, huh?

“Oh, sorry,” Satan removed his hand, “But word of advice; be wary of Asmodeus’s gaze, he can charm and manipulate anyone with it, and then use them to his advantage.” He warned, “If you’re not careful, he’ll charm you then eat you alive.”

So he was basically a walking roofie?

“...Duly noted.” They replied.

“Hey! Don’t badmouth me to the cutie!” Asmo pouted, “We’ll continue this later, right Gigi?” He winked.

“No.”

“Ok, that’s enough.” Lucifer sighed, turning Gia’s attention to an absolutely huge guy with a not-so-pleasant look on his face, “Now this is Beelzebub, he’s the sixth oldest.”

“Lucifer, I’m hungry.” He complained. It didn’t take them long to figure out he was the Avatar of Gluttony, his introduction punctuated with his stomach growling,“I’m Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony.”

“Cool.”

“And Mammon, the second eldest, will be here soon,” Lucifer said the other demon’s name in annoyance, Gia wasn’t exactly excited to meet him, “My other brothers aren’t here at the moment but...well, we can get to them later. All in good time.”

No, it was all in bad time because Gia didn’t want to be here and didn’t want to meet this Mammon or any other of his asshole brothers.

Diavolo added, “during your stay in the Devildom the seven demon brothers will lend you their strength, and you’ll be living with them for your own safety.”

Gia had a pretty good idea why, “because humans are food to demons?” They questioned.

“That and if anything were to happen to you it would be our responsibility,” Lucifer said, “I won’t betray Diavolo’s expectations.”

What a devoted husband.

“So, I will do everything in my power to make sure you survive your stay here.” Lucifer continued.

And how did he plan to do that? By making them exchange numbers on a messaging app like high schoolers. That was it? No demonic protection seal? No demonic guard dog? How lame.

“I’ll send you a message!” Diavolo said excitedly taking out his own D.D.D.

“Isn’t that nice, Gia? You’re going to be friends with the future king of the Devildom.” Satan spoke up. Yeah, great.

The D.D.D buzzed, Diavolo’s only message being a sticker of some...demonic penguin looking thing looking angry, that was quickly followed by an apologia text from him,

“Sorry! Ignore that! I’m still new to texting!”

Gia felt the corner of their lip twitch, ‘Hah, what a dad.’ In response, they sent back another demon penguin thing, this one looking a lot happier and Diavolo sent back the same.

Suddenly, Gia became aware of heavy, fast footsteps approaching the hall.

Lucifer groaned, “Well, you’ve got that figured out, and it seems the idiot has arrived as well.”

The double doors slammed open, hitting the walls with a loud bang; and in stormed a very pissed off looking twink.

“HEY! Just who do you think you think you are, human!? You’ve got a lot of nerve summoning the great Mammon!”

Like Lucifer, Gia immediately disliked this demon. Was this their personal hell? A kingdom of obnoxious rich boys that reeked of “I peaked in high school?”

Mammon got up in their face and Gia was immediately hit with the stench of axe body spray and insecurity all but seeping out of the demon's pores. It reminded them of the boys she went to school with who would get red in the face when they sat down during the pledge.

This was absolutely Gia’s personal hell.

[ourmixedrealities]

Mixed Signals (Part One)

~WARNING~ Alcohol / Swearing

Kai Parker and (Y/F/N) some would call us troublemakers while others would say I was the one who tamed the monster.

Kai and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. My first introduction to Kai was on the schools playground, I was seven years old minding my own business while I played in the sand box, I was quickly joined by Bryce and Devin, If you looked at them quick enough you’d easily assume they were twins.

 “I like your hair.” Snickered Devin as he ran his fingers through my hair, I shrugged him away quickly. “Yeah, Wouldn't it suck if someone put sand in it?” Bryce mocked as he scooped up a handful of sand. Before a single grain of sand could fall onto my head another little boy ran over shoving Bryce head first into the sandcastle I was building. Bryce gasped causing sand to fill his mouth. The new kid chuckled as he climbed off Bryce’s back. Devin took off running as he cried out for our teacher, Bryce quickly scampered after Devin as he spat wet sand onto the pavement, His eyes growing red as the particles irritated his eyes. “The names Kai. I’m sorry for destroying your castle.” He smiled as he began rebuilding it. “I’m (Y/N)” I replied shyly. “I won’t let anyone bother you anymore.” He vowed, Little did we know this would be a promise he would never break.

“Mr. Parker!” Mrs. Fieldsman scorned. I watched as Kai’s eyes grew wide and I specifically noticed how his smile never left his face. “Sorry! I gotta go!” Kai laughed as he jumped back up onto his feet and began running away from our teacher. I couldn’t help but smile for the rest of the school day, A strange sense of safety wrapped around me.

After that not a single day would go by without us seeing each other, Even if one of us were sick we would hangout through the window that divided us. My parent’s loved having Kai over since that was the only time he was ever truly well behaved. As time passed I realized he was spending more and more time over my house and I was rarely ever invited over to his, I began to think his parents didn’t like me. I was wrong...

As the years passed Kai became more troubled, He would get into a fight at least every other day. It got to the point where our school threatened to expel him. Of course the school didn't care to know the cause of each fight, They just cared that Kai was always involved in them. Somehow I was able to convince Kai to behave himself long enough for us to graduate high school. I quickly learned that things at home weren't great, His parents were constantly belittling him and claiming that he wouldn't amount to anything. Since Kai was so troubled his family decided that they couldn't handle him any longer, They figured since he was 18 he was old enough to go off on his own. My family acknowledged how mature I was and allowed me to move out at 18 too, Sure it took a little begging and bribing but it worked. Kai and I  decided to get an apartment together near the college I was going to attend. It worked out perfectly, We each had somewhere to live and I didn't have to live with a stranger.

Now here I am 21 single and still living with Kai who is very much not single, As a matter of fact he has a beautiful girlfriend who I also happen to be very good friends with! Her name is Harley and she’s absolutely perfect for him. She’s extremely adventurous, Patient, and overall a great person to be with if you needed to let off steam, Nothing scares her. An added bonus to Harley is she is extremely welcoming of Kai and I’s friendship, There’s zero jealousy or distrust. We can all hangout as a group or one on one, It’s great. As a matter of fact I’m the reason they even met, Harley and I needed a place to study for an upcoming test and of course I offered my home as a safe spot. Kai came home early and the rest is history, Truth be told he didn’t let us study much but we did end up passing the test.

(Present Day)

“Guess what!? Guess what!?” I squealed as I ran up to Kai who was in the process of making a sandwich. “What what!?” He replied as he jokingly tried to match my excitement. “James Buckland asked me out!! You remember him right!?” I gleamed. “Buckland? Yeah, I remember him.” Kai’s enthusiasm quickly diminished. “We are going out this weekend!” Kai took a big bite out of his sandwich, While he chewed he repeated “Buckland!? Why Buckland?” My excitement began to dwindle. “Why not? What’s wrong with James?” I asked cautiously. Kai shook his head after taking another large bite. “Nothing... He’s just not your type... I mean it’s Buckland!” Kai became extremely expressive as he spoke. I crossed my arms over my chest as I asked. “Oh? And who exactly is my type?” Kai paused, Clearly attempting to choose his next words wisely. “Well... For starters your type is a guy who needs to be intelligent which yes Buckland has that going for him, But he’s not exactly brave and he’s rather boring... You need a guy who can keep you on your toes, A guy who can keep your attention. Someone who can make you roll your eyes and then burst out into a fit of laughter, And that’s just not Buckland... You wouldn’t have any fun with him, He’s to safe.” Kai shrugged knowing he was right, But I was feeling even more confused. “Shouldn't I be with someone safe?” I commented back. “Well yeah of course... But no... See, Buckland is to safe meaning he wouldn't be able to protect you... Sure he wouldn't get into a bar fight or hurt you which is perfect but you need a man who can make sure you're taken care of. Safe.” I couldn't deny the fact that Kai had made valid points but I still refused to let him believe that he won, Either way James is a good guy and he deserved a chance, And I haven't seen him in years so I’m sure time has changed him.

After much anticipation Friday finally rolled around which meant it was the day of my date with James. I will admit that our texting conversation wasn't exactly what I was expecting but I was still excited nonetheless. We decided to meet at a fancy restaurant and he said it was his treat, I was becoming more excited by the moment. I showed up in my favorite dress, I was honestly feeling like a million bucks when I heard, “(Y/N)? Is that really you?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar. I glanced around the room until my eyes were met with a man whose glasses were much to large for his face. “Wow! (Y/N) it’s me... James!” He exclaimed. “Oh! Hi! Of course. It’s so nice to see you.” I smiled noticing how his tux was even to tight for his slender frame. “I suppose you thought this was a casual restaurant.” James mentioned as his eyes scanned up and down my body. I attempted to laugh it off but his face told me he was serious. The night continued to decline rapidly after. The whole night James would brag and use words that I don't even think he knew the real meaning of. I suppose he could of been insecure and thought all he did have was his intellect, I would of disagreed, I could of told him he had kind eyes but at this point even that would of been a lie. For hours James attempted to make himself look better than everyone else here, He even tried to make me feel like I should of been honored to be invited here. Kai was wrong about one thing, James sure did know how to make my eyes roll. “Pardon me” I excused myself mid sentence, I have no idea what James was going on about but I couldn't take it any longer, I grabbed my possessions and strut into the restroom. “You’ve got to help me!” I exclaimed feeling relived when Kai answered the phone. “It’s going that great huh?” I could hear Kai attempt to hide his chuckle. “Shut up, Do not tell me ‘I told you so’ I don’t want to hear it... I just need to to call me in five minutes with some excuse as to why I need to leave. Ok?” I pleaded. “Give me ten minutes and I can do even better, Which restaurant are you at?” He asked calmly. “The Moonshine Rose, Why?” I questioned less calmly. “See you soon!” Kai cooed before he immediately hung up the phone. 

I wasted an extra two minutes before making my walk of shame back to the table. It was like I didn’t even leave the table, James began rambling on and on about his oh so perfect life. I sat there picking holes into my bread while muttering the occasional “Ah... Yeah... Is that so? Nice.” This was not at all the James I remembered... If anything he was the exact opposite, He was loud and rude, He was overly confident and seemed to lack true ambition. I had never walked out on a date before so I was thoroughly glad that I would be leaving before we ordered anything.

“What are you doing here?” A voice said from behind me, I whipped my head around to see Kai standing there with his arms crossed. “I’m on a date... What are you doing here?” I answered back unsure of how to react.  He paused to walk next to our table where I stood up. “You look beautiful...” He added without thinking. “I...You have to go home, It’s important..” Kai’s act quickly changed leaving me more confused but I nodded. “Sorry James, I’ll message you sometime.” I left a twenty for our poor waitress who sadly had to deal with James for the entirety of our date and even more so now that I left.

Once the fresh air hit my skin I turned to Kai and said. “That was your big master plan?” I laughed as I nudged his shoulder. He let out a forced chuckle. “Honestly? No, But I really don’t wanna talk about it...” His voice grew more serious as he began walking to my car. I gave him a puzzled look but followed close behind. “May I ask what your plan was?” I questioned apprehensively. Kai shook his head. “I just wanna get out of here.” He mentioned. “Then why are you walking to my car? Shouldn't you go to yours?” I joked. Kai didn’t seem to think I was very funny as he replied. “No man should ever allow a woman to walk to her car alone. I have to make sure you’re safe, Remember?” I nodded again understanding where he was coming from. “Are you okay though?” I asked as I opened my car door. “Yeah, I’m fine... I just have plans with some friends... So I’ll be home later...” He mentioned as he walked further away from me. “Oh... Shit, Harley is supposed to come over tonight... Would you mind keeping her company?” He added sounding less excited than usual. I however was very excited, I could use the girls night. 

Harley and I decided to stay home for the night while Kai had his boy’s night out. Since Harley’s initial plan was to hangout with Kai we decided to just stay at Kai and I’s apartment that way as soon as he came back they could easily be together. Our plan was to have a horror movie marathon, Freak ourselves out and then to eventually pass out after watching the sun rise. Unfortunately for me Harley had a busy day and was able to fall asleep easily while I remained awake and scared. Even my phone ringing was enough to make me jump out of my skin, Granted it didn't help that it was two in the morning. “Hello? Is this (Y/N)?” A man vocalized, I could hear loud music and people cheering in the background. “This is she, Whose this?” I questioned back. “My name’s Dallas, I’m the bartender at Burgers and Beers Bar and Lounge. I’ve got your boyfriend here, He’s pretty far gone and has been begging random people to call you.” He chuckled obviously amused by my drunken friend. “Oh, No... That’s not my boyfriend, If he wants his girlfriend I can wake her up and have her come get him” I stated as I looked over at Harley's sleeping body. “I don’t know what to tell you, He was very adamant about calling you.” Dallas assured. “Oh, Well... Okay I guess, I’ll be there soon.” I stated feeling uncertain. Once off the phone I attempted to wake Harley up, But once I realized there was no use I got dressed, Wrote Harley a quick note in case she did wake up and set off on my adventure to pick up a blacked out Kai. 

Thankfully for me the bar was only a fifteen minute drive away, I was also able to find a parking spot right in front of the entrance, At this point I was feeling pretty lucky. Once inside of the bar I grew slightly nervous since it was packed but once I linked eyes with the bartender I was quickly able to spot Kai. I squeezed past the drunken crowd and finally next to my best friend. “You look radiant!” Kai gasped as he finished the liquid that remained in his glass. “Who let you drink more?” I questioned sternly. Kai pointed at the bartender who was smirking to himself. I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Let’s get you back home and in something that doesn't reek of whisky.” My face warped as the smell filled my nose. “Oh come on... Stay awhile. I’ll buy you something.” Kai offered. I shook my head. “I’d rather get you home where Harley can deal with you.” I admitted. Kai groaned as he placed a hundred dollar bill onto the bar. “Fine, Let’s go.” His demeanor went from happy to seemingly numb. I mouthed a quick ‘sorry and thank you’ to the bartender for dealing with Kai. Dallas smiled sweetly letting me know that Kai wasn't any trouble.

As we walked towards the exit of the bar a man smacked my ass and proceeded to say crude things. I tried to grab Kai but I wasn't fast enough, He was already on top of the man. “Kai! It’s fine, Let’s just go home.”  I called out. Kai looked in my direction. “No, And you know I would never just let this go.” Kai glared back at the man. “He’s not worth it though!” I exclaimed. “Maybe not but at this point I sincerely don’t care.” No one in the bar moved a muscle. “Kai... Please, I just wanna go home.” I answered back calmly. Kai released the man and slowly walked back towards me. “That’s right, Go back to your little whore.” The man scowled as he picked his drink back up before he could take a sip Kai was back on him, After one swift punch to the face he lifted the glass and bashed it onto the mans nose causing blood to spray everywhere, “Now we can leave.” Kai voiced, Quickly wrapping his arm around me. 

“Won’t you get into trouble for doing that?” I asked once we were by my car. “Nah, The bartender said that guy had been harassing woman all night, I just finally did something about it.” Kai shrugged as if it was nothing. I sat down in the drivers seat and turned to Kai. “You know, You scare me sometimes.” I stated with a smirk. Kai’s face instantly became serious.. “Wait, Really?” He began to sit up straight “No goofy, It’s an expression, You don’t actually scare me. Honestly I should be thanking you..” I voiced. Kai shook his head. “You never have to thank me, You know I will always do whatever I want.” He admitted. “This I know.” I laughed. “I’m just scared that one day you’ll get into serious trouble, I mean, You’re old enough to go to jail...” My body trembled at the idea of Kai in prison. Kai took my hand. “I promise, I will always do less than what will cause me legal issues.” He smirked. I forced a smile back. Kai’s phone began ringing wildly, As he took it out of his pocket I could see Harley’s photo. “We should get home.” I announced. “Yeah.” Was all Kai would say before he slid his phone back into his pocket. That’s when my phone began to ring, Before I could pull it out Kai stated “Please ignore it.” and I did. The rest of the car ride was quiet, Which is odd when it comes to Kai.

Once home Harley was waiting by the front door, Kai went straight into his room. “When you called I was driving and Kai passed out in the car.” I lied in hopes of not hurting her feelings. She smiled believing every word I spoke. “No worries, I’m just glad you both got home safe. She stated happily. I nodded as a rush of guilt washed over my body. I hated lying to my friends and I didn't even really understand why I lied, We weren't doing anything wrong. “Yeah, See you tomorrow.” I vocalized. I shrugged off my negative feelings as I assumed that was just from being tired. Harley left me after voicing a quick “Yeah... Ill see you tomorrow.”

Harley walked into Kai’s room feeling her heart grow heavier by the second. “Kai... can we talk?” She began knowing there was no going back after this. “I don’t know Harley.. It’s been a long night and I would really rather go to bed... Can it wait until the morning?” Kai asked trying to be compassionate. “Honestly? No... It can’t wait.” She admitted. “Alright, What’s this about?” Kai patted the spot next to him. Harley ignored his gesture. “It’s about (Y/N)...” She began. “What about her? Is she ok?” Kai scrunched his face completely unaware of where this conversation was about to go. “She’s fine, But you do realize that you’re in love with her, Right?” Harley stated. Kai froze. “I’m not mad.” Harley added calmly. “I... What..? Is this some weird joke?” Kai mumbled. “That’s why I’m breaking up with you. I love you both way to much to get in between you two, And I know that you’ll never be able to love me the way you love her. This is far from some joke.” She forced a smile. “No, Where is this coming from? I do love you.” Kai pleaded. Harley shook her head. “No you don’t Kai,  You love the fact that I can distract you from loving her, But we... We  both know it’s just a short term distraction.” Her voice began to break as she spoke. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way you look at her when she’s not even paying attention to you... You constantly compliment her which don’t get me wrong, I LOVE that, She deserves to feel beautiful... But that’s love and ill never have that with you. I will never regret our relationship, But I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for keeping you from her...” She admitted, Unable to make eye contact with him. A tear finally broke free as she realized how right she was. “You wanna know how I know you love her?” She questioned. Kai shrugged, Unable to find the right words to say. “Because you haven't denied it...” She spoke under her breath in fear that speaking up would cause her tears to escape further. “I do love you though!” Kai grew louder as if he was trying to convince himself that it was true. “I don’t doubt it, But stop fighting me on this. We both know you would be way happier with (Y/N)... So let’s stop pretending that you and I have a future Ok?” She paused. “Maybe sometime in the future we can be friends again, But Kai?” She added. “Yeah? What?” Kai was now staring at his feet. “Don’t come after me, I’ll be fine.” She added quickly before taking off. Kai remained silent as he watched her walk out of his life, He knew deep down that she was right...

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

So i know how you love writing for Valdo Marx, and I'm fond of him now as well, and not just cuz he's basically robert sheehan.... anyway...hahaha! how bout a plus size reader x jaskier, either already together or not up to you, and then Valdo is there somewhere. And maybe a bit of feral!jaskier! Thank you as always dear heart hope you're well! 💙💚💙

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x Plus Size ReaderWord Count: 2,941Rating: TTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @kemmastan @mycat-is-mylove @amirahiddleston a/n: Hello dearest. This went in a direction I was not expecting. I hope that you’re ok with how it went. I had fun writing it and hopefully reading it will be enjoyable too.

“Take me through this plan one more time,” Geralt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s a very simple plan, Geralt. I’m going to escort Y/N to the dance tonight as her wingman, no one we find will be good enough for her because no one on this earth is, I will dance and sing to her and woo her and by the end of the night I will give my big speech about no one being worthy of her but I love her deeply and truly and will spend the rest of my life endeavoring to prove it and she will fall into my arms and the rest is none of your business you cheeky devil,” Jaskier recited. His head was tilted back against the window he perched on, pale blue eyes gazing at the ceiling as if he were watching the scene play out.

“What if she finds someone she fancies,” Geralt asked.

“What?”

Geralt didn’t repeat himself, he just leveled Jaskier with a Look. Jaskier thought over Geralt’s words for a moment, apparently not considering this possible flaw in his plan before now, and then shook his head.

“No, Geralt, don’t be silly. We’ve been traveling with Y/N for months now and no one has even so much as caught her attention a little bit. That’s certainly not going to change now.”

—–

You had to make a change and you had to do it now.

You’d spent months pining after Jaskier, unable to summon the courage to tell him and finding no signs of interest from him. You knew that you could try and force yourself to share those feelings and potentially ruin the friendship, or you could try and move on. The dance seemed the perfect chance and when Jaskier volunteered to help find you a match, well, that was all the answer you needed. You usually dressed to blend in, years of training put into hiding your body or minimizing yourself in any way you could. Tonight, you chose to stand out. First because if you were going to find a new partner you would not waste your time on someone who didn’t see and want all of you. Second because you were feeling a little bold and excited by your choice to pursue someone. The benefit of traveling was that if things went horribly wrong you could just leave the next morning and never return. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but the knowledge it could helped bolster your courage. It was gratifying when you saw Jaskier go speechless, mouth agape and sky-blue eyes wider than you’d ever seen them, as you stepped out in the vibrant, emerald green dress. Your hair was plaited back in a simple but attractive way, framing your face in a way that enhanced your looks but did not try to hide its roundness.

“This’ll do then?” you asked teasingly as Jaskier stared at you until Geralt finally thwacked him in the arm to help bring him back to his senses.

“You look absolutely… Geralt I’ve forgotten words oh gods they are my whole livelihood…”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you laughed, blushing a little under his gaze.

“If you don’t take her arm I will,” Geralt hissed to Jaskier, eager to get the evening underway and over with. That snapped Jaskier out of it and he nearly leapt across the room to your side, taking your hand with unparalleled reverence.

“Here’s hoping someone else at court feels the same,” you said. Geralt watched Jaskier’s face freeze, a glimmer of fierce panic in his eyes before he recovered and offered you a smile.

This would be a long night.

—–

Valdo Marx had come to the ball for one reason and one reason alone – spite.

True he had been one of the first to receive an invitation but it was to attend, not perform, a slight he would not forget or forgive anytime soon. He had come to drink their wine and eat their food and scoff at their doubtless subpar performers. He hadn’t come with carousing in mind though he saw flickers of interest in the eyes of many he passed. He couldn’t blame them. He was aware of his effect on people, especially when he looked as resplendent as he did tonight in his black and burgundy attire. His curls were artfully disheveled and he’d smeared just a bit of kohl around his eyes to further emphasize them, not that they needed it. He’d trimmed his mustache and goatee and applied a tasteful amount of patchouli cologne to his neck and wrists. Still, it was all for himself and to know that he had appeared and provided the quality appearance that one could expect from Valdo Marx, even if all he had planned was some smirking and sipping of wine.

And then he saw you.

Valdo’s plans immediately pivoted. He moved from his haughty lounging to standing straight up, pressing out the wrinkles in his doublet and then setting down his goblet as he made his way to you. His eyes never strayed though yours surveyed the hall and he was vaguely aware that you were talking to someone. He didn’t look at their face, briefly taking in the quality cut of their black and cerulean lined attire with an appreciative glance, but when his eyes flicked back to your face it was inclined by the other and he stopped walking.

Jaskier.

Of course fucking Jaskier de Lettenhove, golden boy of Redania, would walk in with the loveliest creature tonight. No matter, Valdo told himself, taking up the chase again even as Jaskier led you onto the dancefloor. You may have arrived with Jaskier, but you would be leaving with him.

—–

“Jaskier if I dance with you all night I won’t find anyone,” you protested, though a traitorous part of yourself that wasn’t as easily swayed loved the feeling of his hand in yours and the way the oceanic eyes never left your face as he led you around the dancefloor.

“You’re right,” Jaskier said, though he kept a tight grip on your hand, “After this dance as ended I shall seek out some good company for you.”

You forced a smile. You’d secretly hoped he may say no, that he wanted to be your only dance partner, but you knew this was just a fantasy and if he really did do it you’d rankle at the unearned possessiveness. Still, you were a simple woman, and you wanted to feel wanted even if just for a moment. After the dance Jaskier did as promised, guiding you off of the floor and setting you up with a goblet of wine before heading out into the fray where he would circle a few times and then return to you. He would take the opportunity to check on Geralt who was where he usually sat during parties, alone and as far away from others as he could with refreshments.

You watched Jaskier’s retreating back and tried not to pout as you worked at finding that vigor you had earlier to find someone.

“It is too early for you to be here,” a voice in an accent you couldn’t immediately placed said. You turned to see a man standing nearby, leaning his long frame against a column and smiling at you with eyes that matched your gown.

“Pardon?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat as his mouth curled into a smile.

“Persephone is supposed to stay with Hades until spring, but here we still have a whole winter’s month left and yet you stand before us,” he replied in a voice that was so low it was nearly a purr. He spoke the words quietly as though it were a secret. As though he truly had spied a goddess out of place and was trying to coax her back before the other mortals caught on. You laughed and moved closer.

“Let me guess, you fancy yourself Hades?” you teased, the courage you’d lost coming back to you.

“Alas it seems I do not have that honor. But I shall let you cast me in the roll you see fit for me to play,” he answered smoothly. You stared at him thoughtfully as the bottle green eyes boldly, but not lecherously, swept the length of your body. You felt seen by this man in a way you hadn’t in some time. It scared you. You liked it.

“Eros,” you replied. He laughed, caught off-guard but delighted by your response.

“Indeed?” he said, “Oh you must tell me your justification.”

“You look the sort to tempt maidens in all kinds of trouble,” you answered, taking a sip of wine. His eyes fell to you lips as you licked a drop from the rim of the goblet and you knew he was wondering how the wine would taste if he kissed it from your lips.

“Tempting makes it sound like there’s some sort of coercion. I guarantee every maiden I’ve met was an eager devotee of my temple, love,” he replied, raising a hand using his slender, soft fingers to brush a lock of hair out of your face. He glanced up, something catching his attention, and his lovely features grew a little bit fiercer and more wicked and fool that you were, you only found yourself more enticed.

—–

“Geralt you were worried about nothing,” Jaskier insisted, though he addressed himself more than his friend who stared ahead with an expression that was a cross between bemusement and foreboding.

“Indeed,” Geralt said.

“Yes! We have had some lovely danced together and I left her with wine. Her favorite kind, I’ll have you know,” Jaskier insisted.

“And Valdo Marx was a part of your plan?” Geralt asked, eyes still gazing ahead. Jaskier scoffed and glanced to where Geralt look, opening his mouth to offer some witty retort but then he did a doubletake. You were standing inches away from Valdo whose eyes caught Jaskier’s. He looked delighted at the ashen pallor Jaskier’s face took. The color soon returned with vigor and before Geralt could rise from the table, Jaskier was halfway across the floor.

—–

“Y/N,” Jaskier said, appearing at your side so suddenly you squeaked in surprise.

“Jaskier!” you exclaimed, “Good gods where did you come from?”

“Hades,” Valdo murmured.

“I just saw you talking with an old acquaintance and wanted to ensure that you were properly introduced,” Jaskier said coolly, his words directed at Valdo more than you.

“Allow me,” Valdo said, interjecting quickly, “Valdo Marx, bard of Cidaris.”

He took your hand and raised it to his lips though Jaskier looked at him as though he may physically tear his lips from his face if they touched any part of you. You looked between the two of them confused.

“Wait, you’re Valdo Marx? Oh Jaskier he’s nowhere near as odious looking as you said. Quite the opposite in fact,” you said. Valdo shot Jaskier a squinty glare which was duly returned.

“And Valdo, I know some things you’ve said about Jaskier which were equally false. And things you’ve done. Did you know that your little stunt of spreading that lie about Jaskier and the pox cost him a job which cost us the chance at staying in an inn one night?” you asked, jabbing your finger in his chest.

“If I had any idea that you were with him I never would have done such a thing,” he replied emphatically.

“Y/N come, let’s have a dance,” Jaskier said, taking one of your hands.

“Allow me to explain myself further,” Valdo implored, taking the one you had pressed against his ribcage, “I promise I’m not as bad as I’ve seemed. Or acted. And in some ways I can get so much worse.”

His eyes glinted with a promise that made your stomach flip and Jaskier’s insides burn. He roughly pulled you next to him, his hand moving to wrap a more possessive arm around your waist.

“Y/N came with me,” he snarled at Valdo.

“She’s leaving with me.” Valdo snarled back.

“If you’re quit done fighting over me like two dogs with one bone I have something to say,” you interjected, though a part of yourself you weren’t proud of enjoyed watching these men inch ever closer to a physical altercation over you. They looked at you expectantly though whenever their eyes caught each other’s they squinted into a glower.

“Jaskier I did come with you but it was with the express intent to find someone because gods knows you aren’t interested and it’s not fair of you to try and decide who I speak with now,” you argued. Valdo preened as Jaskier stammered a bit under your glare. This was not going how he expected at all.

“I am,” he said quickly, “Y/N, believe me when I tell you that I am.”

“Oh sure because now Valdo is here and it’s a matter of pride,” you argued.

“No,” he implored take your hand up again with his, the sky blue eyes gazing into yours as they had earlier that day and as you thought about it, as they had many times before though you’d dismissed them as a foolish trick of your own love for him. “Y/N I have loved you since nearly the very day we met. I didn’t know how to tell you or if I should and, I must confess, I thought I had more time.”

“Because you didn’t think another man would be interested?” you asked, hurt plain on your face.

“Gods no, because you didn’t seem interested in others,” he explained.

“Well why would you offer to help me find a partner if you wanted me?” you demanded.

“She raises a good point. A pretty shit plan if I may say so myself. Seems the lady would fare better with a smarter, more direct partner,” Valdo cut in.

“Shut it,” Jaskier bit out fiercely before turning his face back to you, tender once more, “It was, admittedly, a plan that sounded better in theory. I was going to do this whole elaborate speech about no one being worthy of you – myself included – but how much I wanted to try and work at it for as long as you’d let me.”

The sincerity in his eyes and the words you’d wanted to hear for so long brought a tear to your eye. If he had done this five minutes before it would have been the easiest, quickest answer. But he hadn’t, and you found yourself in the unprecedented position of feeling torn between two men. This always sounded exciting and enviable in stories but now that you stood here you just felt frozen.

“Pretty works, Jaskier, perhaps the first you’ve ever spoken. But the fact remains that you have had months to make these feelings known and didn’t whereas I identified her the moment my eyes laid on her as someone I must know. And I didn’t wait for silly games. So I ask you, Y/N, what would you rather have? Someone who goes after what they want when they want it, or someone who plays the long game, taking for granted that you’ll be hanging around waiting for them?” Valdo asked.

“I do love you Jaskier,” you said. You felt Valdo drop your hand gently and you turned to face him, “But.”

The word hung in the air as both men stared at you breathlessly.

“But I cannot deny that I’m drawn to Valdo as well,” you confessed, feeling oddly guilty, “And I know it’s not how it’s supposed to be but… It’s true.”

“Perhaps a sampling,” Valdo suggested.

“What?”

“You spend an evening seeing what Jaskier has to offer and you spend an evening seeing what I can do and you make your decision,” he explained.

“You’re not a platter of meats,” you scoffed. He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I could be,” he purred. You felt Jaskier’s arm tighten around your waist.

“Unless you’re worried that I would outperform you. Yet again,” Valdo said to Jaskier. Jaskier gave a sharp, humorless bark of laughter.

“Gods no. If anything I think of you and your poor, tender feelings. I fear you would never bring yourself to perform again after being so soundly shown up,” Jaskier sneered.

It wasn’t ladylike or right or moral but you had an idea. A scandalous, daring, wicked idea. Then again, you reasoned with yourself, men did it all the time.

“Perhaps this can be settled,” you said. Again two pairs of eyes landed on you, blazing green and cool blue. “Perhaps…”

“A fuck off?” Jaskier offered. Valdo rolled his eyes at the vulgarity but you brightened and nodded, grateful someone had spared you saying it. “Well I have no reason to fear it.”

He looked at Valdo challengingly and your heart pounded in your throat. The man looked back at you and as his eyes slowly scanned your body again you felt Jaskier’s grip tighten so hard it would likely leave marks. The idea thrilled you.

“Name the time and place,” Valdo said, “It will be an unequivocal pleasure showing you up yet again.”

—–

Geralt watched the three of you walk away, Jaskier’s arm around your waist and Valdo taking up your free hand. He debated with himself for a full five minutes about whether or not he should follow. If what was happening what he thought was happening, he didn’t want to be anywhere near it. Then again, there was an even chance that it would end in attempted murder. He took a long pull from his ale and shook his head. You could handle yourself.

[dhwty-writes]

Chapter 10 - The Contrast of Compassion and Contempt

This was a surprisingly easy chapter to write, given that I had absolutely no idea what was supposed to happen until I wrote it. Here's to hoping it won't mess up the timeline. 

Thanks as always to @persony-pepper for betaing!

Summary: Geralt is back at Lettenhove Hall and Jaskier is coping. Or at least trying to, as both Geralt and Ciri do their best to shatter the fragile balance on a razor blade that defines their relationship. 

Read on AO3

Prologue | previous | next

The alderman of Saltwall was a fool and a bloody coward, too. Jaskier was very pleased to discover that - so pleased, in fact that he greeted Geralt with a smile on his face when the witcher trudged into his study.

"'To The Right Honourable The Viscount Lettenhove, Julian Alfred Pankratz'," he recited as he leaned against his desk, crossing his ankles, "'I offer to you my sincerest apologies for the recent misunderstanding. It is my deepest regret to relay to you that the honoured Master Geralt of Rivia' — do you hear that, Geralt, I quite like the sound of it — 'indicated in no way that he was affiliated with you' — oh, fun, that's some fodder for the rumour mill." He cleared his throat and read on: "'I assure you, it was not my intention to slight you or yours. In hopes of amending this misstep, I send to you and your witcher this recompensation consisting of three hundred crowns.' Melitele's tits, Geralt, what on earth was the agreed sum?" Jaskier tossed him the coin purse.

"Hundred and fifty," he replied and weighed the purse in his hand. "I assume you want half of it?"

He dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Keep it. This is much better, listen to this: 'I trust that no bad blood remains between us, as you are one of my most esteemed neighbours.' That's the best he could come up with? Ridiculous. But wait, here comes the best part: 'Also, I extend the humble invitation to you and your household to come and dine with my wife and me in Saltwall.'" He lowered the parchment and grinned widely. "What do you think, Geralt? Should we accept? I'd love to see his face when I show up with the sixty-odd members of my household."

Geralt huffed what could almost be a laugh. "Fuck, J- my lord. What did you write in your first letter to get that kind of response?"

"Oh, that was easy," he said almost bored. "I politely informed him that you were there on my orders, and that I am greatly displeased with the lack of financial compensation for your hard work. I also reminded him that his liege and I had studied in Oxenfurt together, and that I am soon due to visit my old friend, who would surely be interested in his activities. Oh, and I might have implied that I slept with his unmarried sister."

Now he was certain that Geralt was laughing. "Poor man. He had no idea what he'd gotten himself into."

"What can I say? I am a master of my craft." He bowed with a flourish.

When he straightened his back again, Geralt was rolling his eyes fondly. "You're incorrigible."

"Maybe so," he allowed the teasing. "It gets me what I want, though." 

"Hmm," Geralt made and crossed his arms. "And what's that?"

An icy hand gripped his heart. 'I told you,' his mind screamed. 'I asked you to come with me. And you walked away.' But that had been a lifetime ago. "Well, that depends." Jaskier forced his expression to go blank. "Primarily, though, none of your business."

"Right. I'm sorry, my lord." He could tell Geralt was mocking him.

Still, he answered: "You are forgiven, my witcher."

They were silent for a bit, Jaskier unwilling to budge first. To his everlasting joy, Geralt caved. He talked a lot since their reunion - comparably at least. Jaskier enjoyed this development immensely. "Are you going to accept the invitation?"

"I'm thinking about it. It would be rather satisfying to have that bastard bowing and scraping to you, wouldn't it? That would teach him."

"Hmm," Geralt made. "Or he'd be twice the arse to the next witcher to get back at you."

Jaskier frowned deeply. "No, you're completely right. That would be awful, we won't do that." His fingers danced to a rapid rhythm on the desk while thoughts chased each other through his mind. Then, thankfully, one of them slowed down enough for him to grasp it. "Oh, that's better still!" He wheeled around, pulling parchment and a quill from his desk, and started penning the response.

He'd written one and a half pages already when he was startled from the daze he was in: "What are you writing?" Geralt asked and peered over his shoulder. Jaskier very nearly dropped his quill. The witcher was close enough that he could feel his breath against the back of his neck and the heat radiating from his body. A shiver ran down his spine, and Jaskier wasn't quite sure if it was pleasant or not. Geralt reached out and moved the page he was writing on, to better examine the one beneath it. He didn't retract his arm just yet, though, but put his hand next to Jaskier's hip, leaning on the desk, and thus greatly restricting his movement.

Once he would have rejoiced for any chance to get this close to the witcher when he wasn't gravely injured or dying. Now, it made his skin crawl. Jaskier scarcely dared to move, but turned his head to see Geralt frown. "What?" Jaskier asked, amused.

"Is it some kind of joke? I don't get it."

He snorted a laugh. "Yes, witcher, it is. You should ask your daughter about it, she'd understand it." The frown on his face deepened beyond what seemed humanly possible and Jaskier quickly kept on talking: "It's an insult, you see? 'As pleased as I am to get invited to the famed court of Saltwall, it would greatly trouble me to infringe upon your winter stores. Though, I do have plans to visit my brother-in-law in Goldfurt this winter and should be overcome with joy to meet you there to renew our fleeting acquaintance.' It's-" He waved his hand impatiently. "It's a reminder that visiting Saltwall is beneath me and that I have better options. It's also a remark on the fact that he wanted to scam you claiming he didn't have enough. And a whole lot of other things. Would take some time to pick all of that apart."

"Hmm. Not looking forward to seeing him in Goldfurt, though."

"What makes you think you'll be in Goldfurt?" he teased him and snickered when his face fell. "Don't worry, witcher, it's another taunt. The Baron of Goldfurt would never invite someone as insignificant as the alderman of Saltwall. No danger of us running into him there."

A smile tugged at his lip. "Clever."

"Compliments will get you nowhere," he scolded, a bit more harshly than strictly needed, perhaps. He waved his hand dismissively. "Go now. I have unfinished business to attend to."

Geralt sighed and leaned in a hairbreadth closer before pushing off the desk. "As my lord commands."

Only when the door closed behind him, Jaskier could breathe freely again. His knees gave out beneath him and he dropped onto his chair like a puppet whose strings have been cut. He ran a shaky hand over his face, trying desperately to sort his thoughts again. This was not good. First the worry, now the nervousness… This was not good at all.

It wasn't exactly as if being close to Geralt was unpleasant, quite the contrary. It was just that it was unbidden. Unwanted. Undeserved.

He had left all of those feelings behind him on that mountain. With his return to Lettenhove, he had rid himself of all his silly fancies in order to become the pretty, tame little songbird his parents had craved all along.

After everything they'd been through, it felt wrong. It was so awfully familiar when it shouldn't be. It probably would be easy to just act as if nothing had happened. To fall back into that familiar pattern of teasing each other, maybe even something more and yet-

Jaskier couldn’t pretend the mountain hadn’t happened. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t returned to the place he had vowed to shun of the rest of his life, and that he couldn’t leave again. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t spent ten long months nursing a broken heart over someone who had never been his in the first place, that he hadn’t heard a word from Geralt for one and a half years - that had never happened before, not in sixteen years.  He couldn't just forget that he had offered up his soul up on that mountain and that there still hadn't been so much as a talk about it, much less an apology. And he certainly couldn’t pretend that it was all fine.

Silence would be easy. Silence would be what they'd always done. They'd never talked about the djinn, never talked about Cintra, about any of the times when Geralt had broken his heart without even knowing. His conversation with Ciri came to his mind. That wasn't making up. That was suffering in silence. And he was done with that.

He stood and straightened his doublet. 'No,' he decided. Until they actually talked, there would be no repeat performance of whatever had just happened.

It was later that day when Jaskier almost fell to his death down the stairs of his tower as a giggling quartet of children raced past him. "Stop right there!" The Viscount shouted, and three of the four followed his command immediately. "What is it I have to see here?" He caught Ciri by the scruff of her neck. "What do you think you're doing, cousin?"

She giggled and writhed in his grasp. "Jaskier!" The three serving girls stared at her as if she'd grown a second head and one of them even mouthed 'Don't!' in warning. "We're just playing, let go of me already!"

He eyed the others warily, who quickly averted their gaze. They were certainly not company fit for the heiress to the Cintran throne. "Beggin' your pardon, m'lord," one of them. They made her happy, though.

"That's not what I mean," he said not unkindly. "I am talking to you, young lady, and about your foot."

"My foot is fine," she insisted. She pulled up her skirts and wriggled it around to prove it. "See?"

"Hmm," he said. "Did you talk to Wera about it?"

"I did!" she insisted. "She said it would be fine if I didn't jump and run around too much."

"And you think sprinting up my staircase is within the determined parameters?"

She looked up at him with large eyes. "Please, Jaskier," she begged. "Please let me play a bit longer. Only today."

'Oh,' he realised as a cruel fist clenched around his heart. 'She's lonely.' And how could he deny her when he had suffered the same strangling solitude of these cold grey halls for so long? "It's alright," he said and gently stroked her hair. "Run along now, we'll talk later."

Later turned out to be two days later after he had weathered another disagreement with Geralt — gods, as soon as the door closed behind the witcher he couldn't even remember what it had been about anymore. In that moment, he had understood the urge to batter something with a sword very well. He didn't follow through with it, though. He would most likely only make a fool of himself.

Instead he buried himself in his work. It had just been an excuse for the alderman at first, but the letter he had written had gotten him thinking. He probably should reconnect with his old friends from Oxenfurt — most were bards, just like he had been, but some held their own lands now. 'The jolly days of our youth are past,' he thought bitterly, 'we have to settle down if we don't want to die as we lived: strolling minstrels in an unmarked grave.'

So, he had begun writing them again, inquiring about fiancées he'd seduced and brother's he'd bedded, racking his brain for any kind of information about them besides their relatives he'd spent lovely nights with. He couldn't come up with a lot. He only hoped there would be some kind of payoff for all the trouble.

When he was just trying to remember the name of a particularly handsome set of twins he’d met at a  ball once, Ciri walked in without even knocking. "Hello, Jaskier," she greeted him and hopped onto one of the side tables.

"Hello, Ciri," he answered, continuing to write his letter. He was almost done when he noticed that his study was silent safe for the scratching of his quill — the usual chatter that began as soon as Ciri walked through a door suspiciously missing. He put the quill down and tilted his head. "Are you quite alright, darling girl?"

She shrugged and stared down onto her dangling feet. 'Oh-oh,' he thought, 'that's not good.'

"What's the matter, Ciri, talk to me," he beckoned. When she still did not answer he continued: "Are you unhappy?"

"That's not it," she said quietly.

"Then what is?"

"I think Geralt is sad," she admitted finally.

"Oh?" Jaskier stood and moved to sit on the edge of his desk. "Why do you think so?"

"I think he is sad that he can't train me like he did before anymore. He kept talking about how it all reminded him of Kaer Morhen. He doesn't do that anymore. He's also very grumpy." Before he could say anything, she held up a hand to shut him up — a gesture she seemed to have picked up from him — and continued: "Even grumpier than usual."

"Even grumpier?" he asked incredulously. "Dear girl, you have to be mistaken. That cannot be possible."

"It is!" she whined. More quietly she added: "Make it stop."

Whatever clever remark he had prepared died on his lips. She sounded so earnestly, so heartbroken, so- "Alright," he heard himself say. "I'll make it right again."

"Great!" she answered. Grinning widely, she pecked him on the cheek before running off again. He stared after her for a long time, wondering what on earth had possessed him to make such a promise he couldn't hope to keep.

It was almost time for dinner when he finally came up with a plan and made his way to the guardroom. "Evening," he greeted the gathered men cheerily. There were about five of them, gathered around a table where Geralt and Borys were engaged in a round of Gwent. They didn't even look up, eyes on the cards and the pile of gold between them. "Is Marin here?"

"In his room, m'lord," one of the others, whose name Jaskier couldn't recall, answered.

He nodded his thanks and made his way up the short flight of stairs to the Captain of the Guard's room. Without knocking he opened the door. Marin was sat on a stool, bent over a tarnished mirror, and shaving with a rather blunt razor. 'Should I increase the salary, maybe?' Jaskier wondered, but that was a thought for another time. He cleared his throat quietly.

Marin nicked himself and cursed loudly before turning to see who it was. "My lord!" He leapt to his feet and knocked the stool over in the process. "I didn't-"

"Relax, Marin," he said tiredly, "and sit down again, for Melitele's sake, She knows you deserve the rest."

"Right," he said warily and righted the chair, still hesitant to sit while Jaskier was standing. Instead of waiting out the internal debate of his Captain, he simply sat down on the shaky desk in the corner. Finally, Marin did as he had told him. "Why exactly are you here, my lord?"

"I wanted to thank you," he answered honestly. "For your advice, when-" his voice broke without his permission.

A kind smile spread on Marin's face. "You're welcome, my lord."

Jaskier wet his lips with his tongue. "I've also come to request another piece of advice."

"I'll be glad to oblige."

"How do you train your guards?" he asked bluntly.

"I- I beg your pardon? I-" Marin stuttered, clearly taken aback.

Jaskier tried not to sigh in annoyance. "No, you haven't misheard. How do you train your guards?"

"Well, there's drills. For longbows and crossbows, swords, too. Halberds, sometimes. I teach some of the lads how to ride, the most promising ones. And I have them trek through the forest with heavy bags. That’s about it."

"Hm," he said and frowned deeply. 'That's not exactly what I'm looking for here.' He took a moment before continuing: "And, theoretically, if you wanted to train their reflexes as well as their agility, how would you go about that?"

Marin raised his eyebrows. "Theoretically?" he parroted.

"Theoretically," Jaskier confirmed.

Slowly, he said: "Theoretically, as in... similar to balancing on railings or barrels?"

"Theoretically, yes."

"In that case, theoretically, I guess I'd build a structure I could put my trust in. Not too high above the ground, I'll wager. Beams and monkey bars, even a quintain or two, maybe. It would train her reflexes to respond to unexpected blows — theoretically, of course. And I'd definitely pad the floor with something soft. Bales of straw or something.."

"Hm." Now that was something he could work with. Well, not Jaskier himself necessarily, he'd definitely need help for that. "And, theoretically, could you draw the plans for that?"

Marin seemed to consider the idea for a moment. "Theoretically, I could."

"Good man."

"I'll have them by you within the week, my lord."

Jaskier flashed him a bright smile and opened the door. "I'm looking forward to it," he said with a wink, "theoretically."

He went back down to the guardroom and was greeted by wolf whistles by some of the older guards who he had known in his youth. 'When did the boys I grew up and trained with become the older guards?' he wondered absentmindedly. Geralt was still playing Gwent, although with another opponent.

"And what business did you have with the Captain, Master Julian?" Borys asked with a lewd grin.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied and made a show of blowing him a kiss.

The wolf whistles grew loud again and Borys laughed. "I believe I would, m'lord. Care to show me?"

His smile froze on his face. "Maybe later."

The guard sitting next to Borys jabbed him in the ribs sharply. "That's a no," he stage-whispered and the guards laughed.

Jaskier was still thinking of a smooth reply when Geralt suddenly threw down his cards and exclaimed: "Fuck!"

His opponent laughed heartily, quickly scooped up the coins between them, and hid them from Jaskier's view. Not that he cared. He still clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Gambling away your earnings already, witcher?"

"Not anymore," he grumbled and stowed his cards away. "I'm done for today." He stood and walked over to Jaskier who regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

"Waiting for something?"

"You're blocking the door. My lord."

"Right." Jaskier reached behind himself and turned the knob. "Enjoy your evening," he called to the guards before opening the door and waving Geralt through.

As soon as the door shut behind them, the voices started up again but Jaskier couldn't tell what they were saying. Geralt, though, turned beet-red and hunched his shoulders, apparently trying to get away as fast as possible.

"What are they talking about?" Jaskier asked with amusement.

"Nothing important," Geralt muttered and held the door to the courtyard open for Jaskier. They had almost crossed it when he spoke up again: "You aren't sleeping with any of them."

"Why the sudden interest in my sex life? You only ever cared about whose pants I kept out of not whose pants I got into."

"Hmm," Geralt made and eyed him up. "I thought I knew you, my lord."

He couldn't keep from flinching. 'You did,' he wanted to tell him. 'You were the only person I didn't put on a show for. And see where that got me.' But he wasn't quite ready to lead that conversation, yet. "Well, I changed."

"I'm aware," the witcher answered. 'Why does he sound so sad?' "I'm trying to get to know you again."

He bit his tongue, almost hard enough to draw blood again. But they had reached the East Wing now and he didn't want either of his sisters to witness whatever needed to be said between them. He sighed. "No, I'm not," he answered the earlier question. “Sleeping with them, that is.”

"Will you tell me why?" Geralt opened the door for him.

"Maybe later," Jaskier answered honestly. "This is no conversation for dinner." With that he shouldered the doors to the dining room open.

"Julian!" Ciri said excitedly, who had quickly learned not to call him Jaskier in front of his sisters. She smiled brightly, and after that it was easy to get into character, grinning widely and chattering away. The princess was a very useful prop when it came to him wearing that particular mask.

"Hello, cousin," he greeted her and went to press a kiss to her forehead. "How was your training today?"

"Boring." She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not allowed to run or do cartwheels at all. Only footwork. Geralt says I'll injure my ankle again elsewise."

"And he's very right about that," he told her and took his place at the head of the table as Geralt sat down at his right. He waved his hand to signal for the servants to bring the food and continued: "Just imagine if you twisted it again, or, Melitele forbid, broke it. You wouldn't be able to leave your room for weeks on end!"

The horror on her face made him chuckle and dig into his food, too, beckoning his sisters to talk about their days. Afterwards they moved their conversation to the Fireplace Room, where Janina and Józefa took up their needlework.

"So, witcher," Józia asked after settling into a steady rhythm, "you returned from your hunt in the woods."

"I did," he agreed as he sat down in the armchair across from Jaskier.

"Tell us about it, will you?" It wasn't a question.

Geralt's glance flickered to Jaskier, as if asking for permission. He raised an eyebrow and his lips curled into the tiniest of smiles. After a moment of consideration, he raised his goblet of mulled wine to Geralt, beckoning him to carry on.

Janina snorted rudely and stood. "Forgive me, my lord," she said tersely, "but I do not think I have to listen to that. May I retire for the night?"

He swirled the wine in his cup, contemplating it. For a moment he considered telling her no — she had lost the bet, after all. Then again, he wasn't cruel. Janina had her reasons for her resentment against witchers just like he had his for his reverence. It was a topic best left untouched within Lettenhove's walls. He waved his hand dismissively and she hastily fled the scene.

"What-" Ciri began but Józefa shook her head.

"Not now, child," she said quietly. Facing Geralt she asked: "Well?"

Jaskier could basically feel him grinding his teeth and was more than a little surprised when the witcher broke into the probably most detailed story about his adventures Jaskier had ever heard from his mouth. He even included details like the frankly hilarious name of the pig, Sam the Ham, he had shared a bedstead with.

When he was done, Jaskier was still feeling eerie as he always did after hearing a particularly compelling story and stood from his armchair. "Walk with me?" he asked Geralt.

The witcher looked up at him funnily. "Sure, my lord."

The night was crisp — freezing almost, and Jaskier gladly accepted the warm cloak a servant brought him hurriedly before they could climb the battlements. "My, my," he said quietly, "it seems like I'm not the only one who changed. Where's the taciturn witcher I fe-" He bit his tongue. "-I travelled with?"

"Hm," Geralt said and Jaskier was almost about to make another comment when the witcher already continued talking: "I don't know, my lord, but I was travelling with a bard named Jaskier. He might know the answer."

"You-" Jaskier gasped indignantly, fumbling for words. Geralt just raised his eyebrows. A challenge. An invitation. Jaskier was tempted to accept. But when wasn't Geralt a temptation for him? "Fine," he said curtly. "I'll ask him."

"Do tell me when you do," he leaned against the merlon as Jaskier sat down between two of them. "I'd like to have a few words with him myself."

He looked up and tilted his head, stubbornly ignoring the fluttering feeling in his gut and the song lyrics in his mind when he saw him bathed in silvery moonlight. 'I once loved a man as white as snow / His skin was deathly pale / His hair a silvery moonlit veil / His eyes two golden suns / After decades of scorn I was once again shunned / But I loved him even so.' He sighed and tore his eyes away. "All in due time, witcher," he whispered, "All in due time..."

"Hm," he answered and took to staring into the night as well.

It was a strange but still familiar silence that settled between them. Once upon a time it would have been filled with chatter and songs and jabs. But still, as the white puffs of their breath mingled in the cold, Jaskier relaxed for the first time in weeks. Because that was Geralt, the White Wolf, standing beside him and he was still Jaskier the Bard somewhere deep down inside, and that still counted for something.

"It wouldn't be fair to them," Jaskier broke the silence at last.

"What wouldn't be?"

"Sleeping with them. They are sworn to be at best, my subjects and property at worst. They can't refuse. It wouldn't be right. That's not the kind of lord I want to be."

"I thought you didn't want to be any kind of lord, my lord," Geralt answered and began inspecting him instead. It made Jaskier's skin crawl with unease. 'I'm weak, my love, and I am wanting,' another line came to his mind. 'Please,' he begged weakly, resisting the urge to recoil beneath the merciless glare, 'I cannot be found wanting again.'

"I don't," he said bitterly, "Alas, I already am. Might as well do my best."

"Hmm."

"My father was that kind of lord," he said without really knowing why, "my grandfather was, too. I suspect half the garrison consists of my siblings and cousins."

"He wasn't a good lord, then?"

"No,” he said quietly, “and he wasn't a good person either."

"Hmm." Finally, Geralt looked away. "At least his son turned out well enough. Don't know about you being a lord, but I know that you're not a bad person."

Jaskier blinked in surprise. "Thank you, Geralt," he said and resisted the urge to take his hand.

To his surprise it was Geralt who grasped for his fingers instead. "Hmm," he made, warming them between his palms. Jaskier ignored how his heart skipped a beat. "Get inside, my lord, and get to bed. Before you freeze to death."

"Right," he breathes, his words blowing out in the night air like the clouds of his breath. "Goodnight, witcher."

"Goodnight, my lord. Sleep well."

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/71387616

Chapter 48

Nick rubbed his cheek against Arthur's hair and closed his eyes with relish. "Have you got time, Nick or do you have to leave?", the other man whispered, full of hope. "I've got time..." Nick said quietly, leaning against his lover and relaxing. Arthur turned around to smile at him and Nick took the opportunity to involve him into a kiss. Suddenly, Arthur became nervous again.

"Uh...Nick...I have something for you...", he whispered. "But Arthur, you don't have to give me anything." "It's not an offering", he answered with a shaking head. "It's not even a real gift, but..." He lifted up a box he had put next to the bed, eyeing it unsurely. Nick's eyes lit up with curiosity. "It's so that we can move freely in the Garden District," Arthur explained and handed the box to his lover, who didn't hesitate to open it. Inside, he found something made of red cloth. "You bought me fancy rags?" Nick was surprised and lifted up the cloth to take a closer look at it. He loved to get clothes as a gift. He however froze when he saw the suit was torn.

"That's how you have to go about in the Garden District, if you don't want to be thrashed. It's not quite beautiful...I know, but it's useful", Arthur nervously told him. "I thought I'll give you one so you don't have to rip apart one of yours." "Oh Arthur, this is a gift! You bought this for me, just to make me a suit?" Nick was touched. He had so many suits, he could've easily shredded one of them, but Arthur as a Downer had spent money to get him a new one. "Uh...not quite...", Arthur interrupted his train of emotions. "When I was in Hackney's institute I...well...took a look around." "You shredded one from his new collection?" Now Nick was shocked. "No, no, it was already in the throw-outs. I don't think he'll miss it," Arthur calmed him down. "I hope it's your size, but when it doesn't fit perfectly, it's an even better disguise." Nick quickly changed into his new clothes. Kneeling on the bed, he viewed himself.

"How do I look?" "Smashing, actually...", Arthur said. "You can wear everything, even these tatters." "Huh." Nick slid from the bed and posed in front of the mirror. "I could show this to Davey, he'll turn this into a trend. Garden style." "Perhaps. I don't think everyone looks as good in it as you." Nick turned to him. "And where's your disguise? I wanna see you in it." "Oh...well...it's still in my shelter, I go get it."

Some time later he came back, already dressed in what was left of a former proper suit. "Oh, wild," Nick blurted out. He planted himself in front of Arthur and put a hand on the other man's half exposed upper body. "I love how much flesh you're flashing." Arthur's cheeks turned faint red. "I'm...I'm glad you like it...", he stuttered, then he gasped because Nick ran his teeth along his naked skin. Arthur had goosepumps all over his body, Nick felt it under his tongue. "Do you want to try it out?" Nick absently licked the bite marks. "Yeah...why not?" "I mean...in the Garden District...." "If you like," Nick muttered and kissed his skin. "No, I mean....you know what I mean." Arthur's fingers curled into Nick's hair. Nick chuckled. Wrapping his arms around the nervous man he looked him deep into the eyes. "As you wish, my king."

"Well...I thought we could try it today because you have time now and...", Arthur stuttered, hating himself for that nonsense he was jabbering. Nick's aura was irresistible, and he didn't want to talk him out of something. He just had the feeling that Nick would leave after bringing him to bed, and he wanted to spend at least a few hours with him. And it would be nice if he could take Nick with him to the Garden District without fearing he would be recognised as a Wellie. "You know what? We could take some food with us and have breakfast somewhere at a pretty place." Nick slowly let him go. Arthur was afraid to see disappointment in his eyes but his lover was still cheery. Nick was actually up for an adventure.

"Hey, I have an idea", he said and walked over to his collection of guitars. He took a brightly colored exemplar. "Do you think this is too flashy?" Arthur eyed it. "Could be too much of a risk. It could be stolen or damaged..." Nick thought about it. He put the flashy guitar back down and looked around searching. "In this case...I have a better idea...where did I put it? Ah, here." He showed Arthur another exemplar that was quite dapple and battered. "I think I mauled a hotel room with this...a long time ago", he explained, skimming over one of the scratches. "Oh, the memories...But this should do it, don't you think? It still sounds alright." To prove it, he vibed the strings. What Arthur heard sounded normal. "Yeah...I think that's ok...Now you look like you've had the concert of your life." He chuckled. Nick joined him. "Don't take a photo now." "Oh, no, that concerns no one else but us. So, are we going?" "With pleasure." They packed some of Nick's supplies and left the hideout.

"I think I remember the way...", Nick said. "Are you sure?" "Yeah, don't you believe me?" "Well, I wouldn't bet on it." "You cheeky brat, you'll see." Nick poked him into the ribs. "Hey...don't worry if your memory isn't the best anymore. You have other qualities." "That was almost a compliment, my king. And still, I'll lead you to our destination, believe it or not."

Nick really remembered the way quite well. In fact, Arthur was impressed by his ability to memorize things again, after he had first met him in a rather poor  and confused state. And even though he took Joy. His tiny pupils proved it. For a second Arthur pondered if it was thanks to him that Nick had recovered so quickly, but then he dismissed the thought as kitschy. After all, not every Wellie turned downright helpless from Joy. When they reached the right hatch, Arthur praised him: "Wow, you really remembered almost everything." "What did I tell you?", Nick replied proudly, tapping his forehead with his finger. "Your Nicky didn't kill all his brain cells with motilene."

But Arthur didn't hear his answer. He had the horrible feeling of a déjà vu. As if he had experienced something similar before...In his mind, he saw himself and his brother range tall grass, looking for scraps of metal. Of course, the contest. Percy had the best memory of them all, Arthur thought. Did he remember what happened at the train station? Did he think about it every day, asking himself why his brother abandoned him there? Did he blame it on himself? ...because I'm slow. Percy had never been angry at anyone, but this time he really should be. Arthur wiped his forehead, as if he could wipe away the memories. Percy called out for him in his mind. "Arthur! Arthur, where are you? Arthur!" Then he felt that someone was kindly shaking him. "Arthur? Arthur, can you hear me? Say something!" Blinking and shaking his head, he found the worried face of his lover right in front of him. "Nick....sorry...I was distracted." "Distracted? You've been miles away! I thought you drugged yourself! Are you okay?" "Yeah...yeah I'm ok...I was just...pondering something. Nothing important. Don't worry." Nick eyed him doubtfully. "Okay, but if there's any problem...if you feel funny, or we have to go back, just tell me." "I'm alright, Nicky", Arthur said somewhat too casually and quickly kissed him, hoping to lead his lover's thoughts into another direction. "Come on, let's go."

Indeed, the garden impressed Nick enough to cheer up again. Arthur smiled too, so it had to be alright. Weird, how good he felt in shredded clothes. "And you think we make a good impression like this?" "Sure. It's all upside down in here. Also, try to look sad when we meet someone." "And what do I say?" Nick's fascination for this strange district grew again. "Just be nice, like with everyone else...just never mention that you're taking Joy. Don't be too happy, and don't talk about the past. They know it, but they don't want to talk about it." "I can relate", Nick mumbled. "Pardon?" "I mean, I can manage."

They strolled though the district as if it was the most beautiful place in the world, passing by a few wastrels that ignored them. Their appearance was enough to create the illusion that the two visitors belonged there. Arthur tensed at bit, walking though the demolished town. He avoided all the spots that were covered with writing and graffiti. They could be too much for Nick, even though he was still happily strolling along. After all, he knew how fast a Wellie's mood could change. Nick, however, felt nothing but nostalgic bliss while viewing the ruins. They reminded him of his early days with the band, when they couldn't afford any rent and lived in a ruin instead. It had been a good time, maybe the best of his life, because it had been peaceful, and they had had all their dreams to look forward to.

"Nick?", he suddenly heard Arthur ask. "Are you alright?" Nick laughed. "Now I was distracted." "We better leave the town." "No," Nick waved him off. "I thought of something pleasant...something I remembered lately...", he explained, stopping in front of a demolished house. "I've been living in one of these, can you imagine?" "You mean, before the bombs fell?", Arthur asked and promptly wished he had bitten his tongue instead. Bombs, Arthur. Good job. Is your life as a Wellie really that long ago so you don't remember that some words are forbidden?

Luckily Nick didn't hear it or something, he was still eyeing the ruin in awe. "No, I mean a house just like this." He pointed at it. "There were many of them in Hamlyn Village back then. And they were pretty useful for the band and me, when we were still nobodies. We've been free and we could do as we pleased." "I...I think I know what you mean...I've played in them as a kid...It was fun. Sally and I..." Arthur stopped. Now he really wanted to bite his tongue. Nick was surprised. "Sally? You knew Sally?" Arthur grimaced and crossed his arms. "We grew up together. We were friends", he uttered. "No way!", Nick was thrilled.  "The it girl Sally Boyle, your schoolfriend...perhaps even your girlfriend. You can't tell me she didn't fall for your charms, Artie." He poked him.

Not as much as she fell for my father's charms, Arthur thought. Loudly he said: "Look...let's change the subject, okay? I don't really want to talk about it." "Oh...", Nick said, figuring that he had awakened bad memories. "I'm sorry. Here, take one of my..." And without further thinking, he offered Arthur a Joy pill. Shortly after, he laughed nervously. "No, you won't..." He quickly hid the pill in his pocket. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to..." Nick was ashamed. "Hey, its okay," Arthur said and clumsily patted his back. He couldn't remember the last time someone had been ashamed because of him, instead of putting all the blame on him. "You're my Joy." Nick gave him a big smile. He had been told that by so many fans, but when Arthur said it it meant so much more to him. "How about another dose?", he asked and his lips came closer to Arthur's. Arthur engaged in the kiss, and they remained like this for long, enjoying it to the fullest.

Nick rubbed a leg on Arthur's. "I think I'm getting hungry...", he whispered, making Arthur's hair stand on end again. "I know a good place to rest..." "Alright, lead the way, my king." Nick let him go and Arthur was happy to finally leave the town. He led his hungry rockstar to the cliff coast, where most likely no wastrels came along. In addition, the view was scenic,  the ocean to one side and the nearly pristine nature to the other. "There. What do you think?" "Wonderful", Nick sighed. Full of anticipation, Arthur spread out the blanket and sat down on it. "Hmm, looks like the table is set", Nick purred, kneeling down to him and putting away his guitar. "And what a delicious meal it is..." He greedily kissed Arthur, pressing him down until he lay on him.

Arthur let it happen, helplessly roaming Nick's body. The shredded suits made it easy to reach naked skin. He didn't try to take the lead, he rather let Nick spoil him, who seemed to be really needy. Soon they were completely undressed and rolling around on the blanket, while Nick was treating every single centimeter of Arthur's body. As greedy as he was, he took all the time he needed to make the other man hungry. So hungry, that he could barely stand it any longer. "Nick", he gasped. "Nick, please...." Nick smiled, looking down at him. He held Arthur close and his hand ran along the other man's spine, downwards. "You want it?" he asked quietly. "Yes, please..." "Are you sure?" Nick's finger got dangerously close to his delicate spot. Arthur was breathing heavily and is cheeks were turning soft red. "I trust you." Nick gave him a gentle kiss, then he let his finger slide into him, testing if he was comfortable. Arthur drew breath. "Sshhh, my king...", Nick whispered. "Relax...". He massaged him slowly. "Is that good?" He educed a moan from the other man. Arthur began to move his hips, adjusting them to Nick's rhythm, while he clung to his lover and pressed his forehead against his chest. Nick used their rhythm to grant his finger a pause and get to the point. Arthur moaned louder and curved his spine. "Ssshh", Nick whispered, "You'll be fine." "That's a massive understatement," Arthur mumbled, feeling how a man filled him for the first time in his life. They turned into a sweating, panting and thrusting bundle until they came heavily. Arthur was sure he'd still feel it tomorrow.

When he had caught his breath, he struggled up. Nick lay on the blanket, smiling blissfully at him. Arthur enjoyed the view for a while, then he put his clothes back on. "Aww", he heard Nick say. "Why would you do that?" "Uh...in case someone walks by..." "That's not our problem, isn't it?", Nick answered and stretched out on the blanket, legs spread. "Nick...it could trigger them." "Oh, come on, they're half naked themselves." "But it's rather cold to be without clothes." "I feel warm." "Yeah, now, but you'll get colder." Arthur tossed Nick's suit at him, but Nick didn't move, except that he started to nonchalantly adjust his hair, acting as if he didn't hear him.

Arthur then grabbed the blanket and threw it over the stubborn rockstar. "Hey!" Nick's voice was muffled under the thick cloth. He freed his head only to stick his tongue out at him, what made Arthur giggle. He knelt down next to his lover to hug him tightly, wrapping the blanket around him. "You don't have to show yourself to everyone, Nicky. They wouldn't appreciate it as much as me", he whispered and pecked his cheek. Nick, wrapped into Arthur's care like that, began to fidget. "Then give me a sandwich at least. I'm really hungry now." Arthur pulled up the bag where they kept their supplies. "What's the magic word?" "I'm a star, I don't have to say please", Nick said with played vanity. "So?" Arthur silenced, picked up a sandwich, let it dangle over Nick's head for a second and then took a bite himself. "That's so good", he swooned, "if only the rockstar could say a nice word, he could taste it too." "What the hell? This is intolerable! I'll sue you, Mr. Hastings! You'll never set foot into your office again!" Arthur squeezed him. "Are you sure about that? Seems like I have you in my grip here. No way to sue me, and nobody's gonna hear your screams except some wastrels, but they won't care. I guess the cards are stacked against you." He took another bite from the sandwich. "Hmm..." Nick struggled harder, trying to free himself, but Arthur's arm remained wrapped around him. Now he remembered how he had choked the wastrel unconcious. He was really strong.

"No, no, no, my star. You'll stay and learn to behave, or I won't feed you." Nick tried his most pitiful hangdog look. Arthur was melting, but he didn't show it. "That doesn't work with me, I'm immune", he told him and continued to eat. Nick now craned his neck and almost reached his goal. "No", Arthur blurted out in surprise and held up his hand. Then he laughed. "You really are a piece of work, you know, but you won't get around this." He put down the sandwich and started to tickle Nick. "See, that's what you get." Nick laughed and curled, struggling out of the blanked little by little. They scrambled with each other until Nick went out of breath. "Stop...stop it...I can't....please." Arthur immediately stopped and lay down next to Nick.

"You're...something else", the rockstar gasped. Arthur eyed him. "Did I go too far?" "No...no, I had a blast." Nick untucked himself. "Here, let me spread this out again." "Uh...okay." "Did you see my clothes?" Arthur tossed them again and this time Nick caught them. "Fancy shreds", he said putting them on. "If you wear them, definitely." "Am I allowed to eat now?", Nick asked with an irresistible smile. "Sure", Arthur said and handed him a new sandwich.

[dreaming-gamer]

Magic Touch – Nero X V Chapter 3

Firefighter Nero x Massage Therapist V

The smell of oil and tires hit Nero’s nose the second he stepped into Devil May Drive, to find V’s piece of junk car suspended by a red car lift and Nero’s best friend checking its underside. Nico wore a yellow overall, the sleeves rolled up for the world to see her tattoos and oil coated her clothed fingers.

The front of the small car might be looking a bit steadier since last Nero had seen it, two days ago. Work had kept him away, but at least he was free today. And hoping for a chance meeting with a certain massage therapist.

“You can stop checking around, he ain’t here.” The mechanic stated, but she flashed Nero a grin. “So, I wanna hear all ‘bout it. Ya get another session or something?” She winked.

“Did you sniff too much gasoline?” Nero retorted. “I gave him a ride, nothing else.”

“At least ya got his number, right?” Nico teased, only for her eyes to widen as Nero hesitated just a second too long. “Yer shittin’ me! Are ya the worst person in the world when it comes to flirting or what?!” She demanded, both hands on her hips.

“Kyrie and I didn’t need flirting! This is just totally different, alright?!” Nero exclaimed, but quickly lowered his voice, stepping closer to his best friend. “Kyrie and I were friends for the longest time! I’ve met this guy twice! I tried asking his number! …but the timing was all wrong, he got out of the car without hearing me.”

“Uh huh… ya know, ya could ask yers truly and I’ll give it to ya, as a special order.” Nico said, her grin returning full force. Maybe she was taking pity on him. Nero wasn’t sure he wanted it or liked it.

“And what would that cost me?” He deadpanned.

“A favor to ask for whenever I please, no matter the cost?” Nico grinned, her eyes alight with glee. “Magic always comes with a price, dearie.”

“You quoting that show of yours again? And this isn’t even magic! Aren’t you breaking customer confidentiality if you give it to me?” Nero pointed out with a huff.

“Aww, does that mean yer worried about my job? Dante wouldn’t mind me helping his nephew, lemme tell ya!” Nico teased.

“You’re NOT telling him about this!” Nero exclaimed. Her teasing, he could put up with. If his uncle found out that Nero was starting to take fancy in someone, he would never hear the end of the Dante’s comments! Or the attempts of ‘advice’. “And if I’m going to get V’s number, damn straight I’m getting it myself! I’m not gonna sit around like some deadweight and get it handed to me!”

But the thought of asking V, well… it made his heart race again. A lot. First of all, he needed to actually meet the guy again, preferably here and hope with all his heart that V would maybe, maybe be interested enough in him to exchange numbers so Nero didn’t need to rely on chance meetings anymore. Sometimes he replayed V’s quote of poetry in his head, not that the poem meant much to him, but that voice…

He missed it.

“Pardon me.”

Oh great, Nero was even imagining it now, more vividly than he’d managed before, right behind him.

“I see we have run into each other, yet again. Good morning, Nero.”

Nero’s mind ground to a stop. There was only one pair of lips that made his name sound like more than it was.

No. Way.

He turned around to find the poet standing just a few meters behind them, a silvery cane in one hand, dressed in a black leather vest that gave off a strong gothic vibe but fit him amazingly. And the smirk on V’s face was quite amused. Either he had… heard Nero’s announcement. Or he was happy with gaining Nero’s attention, with his attire.

The tips of Nero’s ears turned red, whichever the case.

“M-morning!” He said quickly, dammit, what else was he supposed to say?! Had V heard him or not?! And if he had, was he totally fine with giving up his number?! Nero’s heart sped up, thundering in his chest while it felt like he had soaring butterflies in his stomach…!

Nico snorted, trying to hold back a laugh, making Nero turn quickly to face her, anger sparking in his eyes.

Her mirth said it all, she’d seen V come in. And not told him.

Nico just gave him a grin before seemingly taking pity on Nero, as she greeted her customer.

“Yo, yer early! Gonna take a few more hours to get this beauty completely fixed!” She announced, gesturing to the suspended car.

“Ah, my apologies. Your message specified today, so I was hoping…” V smiled politely. “I suppose I will have to return later then.”

“Come back at lunch and it’ll be greeting you with a roaring engine!” Nico grinned. Nero wondered if that car engine could roar at all, since… well, it looked way too old.  

V chuckled to her statement.

“I will look forward to that then.” He smirked as she went back to her work. Nico flashed Nero a meaningful grin, like a silent “Come on, jackass! Ya scared?!”

Nero grit his teeth, he wasn’t going to back down from that challenge! Fighting the urge to put his hands in his pockets and instead act natural, he approached V, putting a grin on his face.

“So, since the car’s gonna be a while… you wanna go grab a coffee? Brunch?” Nero offered, his heart beating fast in his chest. The pounding could almost be heard in his ears.

The second V looked at him, his lips turning into an apologetic smile, Nero knew what the answer would be. It made his heart sink, like a stone to his stomach.

“My apologies, Nero. As pleasant as your offer sounds… I have somewhere to be, right after this. I just came by… in hopes of finding the car finished early.” V replied.

Nero stumbled for a natural reply, with his previously soaring hope now crushing to the ground, within the same hour, it was hard to not seem affected.

“Yeah, no worries man, never mind that—“

“However…” V’s calm voice cut him off. “…if you would like to join me for a walk, to my destination…”

Nero’s hand, that had just been on it’s way to the back of his head, paused. His eyes widened, his tongue felt tied in his mouth. He was quick to nod.

“Excellent, shall we be off?” V suggested with a pleased smirk, taking the lead out of the oil-smelling shop. Nero kicked his brain and legs into following, feeling as if that hope he couldn’t let go of was currently on a rollercoaster. It didn’t stop the grin from appearing on his face. Nero let V take the lead, falling into step with the massage therapist.

Sunlight greeted them and despite the lack of sleeves on his clothing, V was dressed all in black leather. Wouldn’t he get really hot? Nero’s tongue seeming more willing to cooperate now, he opened his mouth to ask as he noticed another detail.

V had… sandals on.

For real? They didn’t really fit in with the rest of his look at all, they just didn’t! But V’s way of walking, as if they were the most appropriate thing in the world to wear… kind of made it work? It was rather confusing, to be honest.

V seemed to notice his staring.

“Is something the matter?” The massage therapist wondered.

Nero considered, for a moment to ask what the deal with the sandals was… but since they didn’t really know each other that well yet, he settled for another question on his mind.

“So why the cane? You need it or is it just to strengthen the goth look?” V stood out like a sore thumb compared to him, Nero was dressed in regular jeans, t-shirt and a short sleeved blue hoodie, perfect for the weather.

V graced him with a devilish smirk, that kind that made a shiver go down along Nero’s spine.

“I suppose… it is for aesthetic, rather than function. These days.”

“’These days’?” Nero asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.” V replied, holding the cane just under the head in an easy grip. It certainly didn’t look like he needed it to walk, since there was no limp to his steps, just a bit of slouch to his back. V didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. Like he’d rather keep it a mystery, or perhaps it was something he’d rather not speak about. Nero couldn’t really tell which, but he didn’t push it.

“Looks good, anyway.” He simply said, because it was true. V wielded the cane gracefully, as if it was an extension of his tattooed arm.

V’s devilish smirk remained.

“Why, thank you. What was your errand, at Devil May Drive? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Nero felt the tips of his ears change color again. V’s tone was teasing and he wondered, again, had the massage therapist heard him or not? Proclaiming he wanted V’s number…

“I just hang out there sometimes.” He tried for, it wasn’t a completely white lie. Nero did hang around, sometimes, since Nico worked there. And meeting his uncle from time to time was cool.

And I was kinda hoping to see you again. The words were in his mind, right there, ready to be said. And he opened his mouth to let them out, but they just wouldn’t come. He struggled, swallowed to buy himself time to try again. His heart rate was picking up again, whoa Nico must be right, he was the worst when it came to flirting!

“I see.” V didn’t seem to mind Nero’s difficulties. “I’m afraid… our walk seems to be coming to an end.”

Are you kidding me?! This time, I am getting that number before you— Nero put a brake on his own thoughts, when he realized just where they were. Sure, they have started to walk down a very familiar road, but still… This street was where he lived! On both sides of the road, apartment buildings loomed over them, the sun hitting the southern windows making them glisten. He’d expected they were just going to pass through, but V meant that they were almost there?

“Why are we here, exactly?”  Nero’s mind was trying to catch up. Was V visiting someone? Or…

Did he live here, that close to Nero? His eyes fell upon a blue moving truck, parked outside the apartment building across from his. The movers stood just outside, discussing the best course of action, just before they opened shutter to the truck’s storage unit.

“I am moving to this new apartment, today.” V pointed to the moving truck with the head of his cane. “I’m afraid that’s why I’ll be too busy to…” The black-haired man paused as he noticed Nero’s wide eyes. “Is something the matter?”

“You’re moving in, acrossfromme.” Nero blurted the words out, too quickly for them to be really heard. It felt like his thoughts were tying themselves into knots.

V gave him a quizzical look.

“…pardon?”

“I live there.” Nero tapped V’s arm with his hand, then pointed it out for him, the first window on the third floor, facing the street as well as the opposite apartment building. “And you’re moving in…”

“Third floor, facing the road…” V’s eyes widened slightly, in that expression Nero had started to see as V’s attempt to hide his surprise. It took mere moments for his expression to smooth out into that devilish smirk.

“Well, we appear to be running into each other a lot recently.” V noted, sounding amused.

“I think this one is on you.” Nero said with a cocky grin. It felt like his heart was going to start breakdancing. Was this luck even real?

“It would seem that way.” V agreed, that amused glint not leaving his eyes. Nero just couldn’t believe this. He knew that an apartment across the road been empty for about a month now, the party animal that had lived there having finally moved on to someplace closer to the city center and the partying he had so adored. Either that or he had been evicted, for disturbing the neighborhood so often. But that didn’t mean that he could have imagined, in his wildest dreams, that V would be the one moving in.

Two men in blue clothes, the same color as the moving truck with caps on their heads exited the apartment building and climbed into the opened storage unit to start lifting a black leather couch between themselves. Nero could see a lot of boxes in the storage unit as well and he briefly wondered if V’s apartment would be the same size as his, with two rooms and a kitchen, or any other size. The question was on his tongue, but V beat him to it.

“Well then, I suppose I must assist.” V said, gesturing to the moving truck with his cane. “The walk might have been… short, but I enjoyed it. Thank you for the company.” V’s voice was that silken tone that sent shivers down Nero’s spine.

“Hey, no need for thanks. Seems like we’ll maybe see more of each other from now on huh?”

“It certainly seems that way…” From the way V smirked in amusement, Nero felt hope soar inside again. “Good luck with the move. I’m off work today, so just knock if you need help with something, deal?” He grinned, still not quite believing his luck.

V chuckled, that smirk on his face ever present.

“Perhaps I will. Good day to you, Nero.” V said, walking towards his new residence with that slight sway to his hips and waist. Nero tried so hard not to stare. And failed pretty miserably.

“See ya! G’day to you too!” Nero barely knew what he said as he waved and walked towards his own apartment building.

He’s moving in, on the other side of the road. It felt like Nero had wings on his feet when he climbed the stairs to his own apartment, one or sometimes two steps at a time. And V didn’t sound like he had anything against seeing each other again! The grin on Nero’s face couldn’t be wiped off by anything now! 

It wasn’t until he stepped inside his own home, kicked off his shoes and pulled off his jacket while simultaneously pulling off some steps to the sound of the electric guitar in his head, that he noticed that his phone had gotten a message. With a flick of his thumb, the message screen greeted him.

“So how did it go? Got that magical number already?” The message was short, but had plenty of emojis a la Nico, including some he barely understood. And why a devil emoji? The words were what made Nero stop in his happy dance around the kitchen though.

V’s number…

The sudden reveal of V’s new home had made him completely forget!

“Fuck!”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

@la-vita and @thedyingmoon

[stydiaeverafter]

Two Ships in the Night

Tyler-Kennedy Strand and Carlos Reyes come from two different worlds. But what happens during one particular night, will change the course of their lives forever. It was written in the stars.

Written for @911lonestarweek Day 3 - Alternate Universe (AU) 

Read on ao3

Tyler-Kennedy was a very rich man and came from a very powerful line of Strands. But all the money in the world couldn’t buy happiness. Every day was the same. His servants woke him up. They got him dressed. They made his meals. And then he would be on his way dealing with one social event after another.

This wasn’t what he called happiness.

One night as he was walking solemnly on his beautiful grounds, he decided to take a walk deeper in the forest. He didn’t usually go without a companion, but he was feeling as though he just wanted to run away from it all.

It started off as walking but soon changed into a run. He didn’t know where he was going but it didn’t matter. Tyler was ready for an adventure, or a new life.

***

“How did you find the gold?”

“Did the wench have it after all?”

Carlos Reyes smiled as he put his black muddy boots up on the table, “A gentleman never exposes his secrets.”

“Good thing you ain’t no gentleman!”

“Don’t make me cut out your tongue,” Carlos whispered, his eyes narrowing.

Everyone in the tavern went quiet, but then they burst out laughing.

“What will you do with it?”

“The gold?” Carlos asked. When the men nodded excitedly, he smiled in return, “Well, give it to the poor of course. I’m tired of the rich taking over our land. We’re the ones that work it and take care of it. Meanwhile, they eat their fancy dinners and dance their ridiculously overdone balls. Enough is enough.”

They all whooped and cheered, chugging for their mugs.

Carlos looked out the window above the candlelight and saw the storm was starting to pick up. The wind was bellowing. He wouldn’t want to be a soul dealing with such a beast.

Just then, the doors of Hog’s Wallow opened up with a bang!

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound. There was a man standing with a cloak and hood on. Carlos couldn’t make out his face. But he didn’t seem to recognize the man from the stance.

Finally, the man revealed his face and Carlos inhaled deeply. “My God…” he whispered, for he had never seen such a handsome man in all the land. He sat up as if that would grasp the man’s attention.

He was just so beautiful with his long blonde hair and what looked like blue-green eyes. But Carlos also had to take notice that he wasn’t dressed like any peasant.

No, this man was all but royalty.

Change of plans. It was now a game of cat-and-mouse. His night was looking better already.

***

Tyler-Kennedy didn’t plan on going into this small town at all. His plan was to stay on the outside and look in at life he would never know. But fate, in the face of the weather, told him otherwise.

So he arrived without so much as a hesitation into the first place he could find. The tavern was warm and quaint but smelled heavily of the drink.

“Well, hello there,” a strong pleasant voice said. Tyler looked over and his breath came to a halt within his chest. “And may I inquire for a name?”

The man before him was so beautiful, that he forgot how to think. His skin was silk and dark, the curls on his head were as black as night, he had brown eyes that you could spend an entire century looking within, and he had thick broad shoulders covered with a tannish shirt opened at the neck, chest hair revealed. It made desire bloom within his chest.

Tyler had seen beautiful men before. But none like this before.

The man wasn’t at all what he’d normally be admirable too, but that didn’t matter. Whatever he was feeling at that moment didn’t make a lick of sense… but he went with it. That was the point of something different, wasn’t it?

He decided to be wise and not give his full name, for he didn’t know who this man really was… and when the commoners found out what title he held over their land, he was sure a ransom would be made in his honor.

“TK,” he answered with a nod, trying not to show how nervous he truly felt. He was in unknown parts; he wouldn’t fit in here. His appearance proved that.

“Interesting name,” the man smirked. “I don’t recognize you… are you new to our humble home?”

He nodded, “I live some towns over. I’ve never been here before. It’s nice.”

“Ah,” the man replied, rubbing his stubbly chin which Tyler had missed in his gaze. “The weather stopped your travels, I reckon?”

“You assume correctly, sir,” Tyler answered, getting rather annoyed by the dull conversation of why he was here. He was cold, tired, and wanted a drink. Eyeing the bar, he saw the man motioning to the owner who nodded and spoke to a waitress.

A woman with a large bust smiled with crooked teeth and brought him a pint, “Here you are, kind sir.” He handed her a bundle of coins and her eyes widened and stuttered. “That’s more than we ask for, sir.”

“Keep it,” he nodded with a genuine smile. He might as well give back while he was escaping his life.

Tyler looked back at the man standing in front of him. He was giving him the most unusual surprised expression. Did he know who he was after all? “What? Why do you stare?”

The man shook his head as if waking himself up from a dream, yet a gleam still shining in his eyes, “You just surprised me is all. That doesn’t happen often.”

As if feeling a pull to the man, he got closer without control of his actions. As he leaned in, he saw the man actually tremble slightly. The feeling shot through him like a dart flying to its target. “If you stay close to me,” Tyler whispered in his ear, “it won’t be the last.”

***

Dammit. This wasn’t going according to his plan at all, Carlos thought miserably. He had now spent hours into the night with this man of great fortune.

He thought the game would be easy. Seduce and steal. It was the game after all, and he’d played this round many times over. He wanted to take the man for all he was worth, giving back to his people… but TK wasn’t like anyone he’d ever meant.

He was rich, that much was certain, yet he was acting like it wasn’t so. But why? What did he gain from this? Did he know Carlos found the gold? At first, he thought the man was playing him, and he got defensive, he wasn’t the one to be played with. He was the master of deception after all. But as the night grew deeper, TK kept buying drinks for Carlos’ men and tipped the tavern hands well.

It didn’t make any bit of sense. He was puzzled.

TK, which he knew the name stood for something more, was witty and kind. A soul that Carlos was suddenly craving to know more of. Carlos found himself opening up, without truly wanting to. Sometimes he would push at the man to see if he could get some sort of exposure, but TK paid no attention to this.

Maybe the man was a very wealthy merchant… but that still didn’t explain his clothes. He also wore a few rings, just like Carlos’... he tried to ignore the stirring in gut burning for a small touch. A pauper like he wouldn’t dare get his dirty fingers on such a clean….

His thoughts on their own accord went into a place he almost welcomed. In his mind, his lips were feverishly kissing the man on his neck, sucking softly at the skin there. TK’s hands pulling his hair roughly as Carlos moaned and undid that black belt, fingers exploring to where they so desperately wanted to be… wanting more… touching more… owning one another’s body with sweat and lust… and….

“Did I lose you?”

Carlos’ head shot up, “Pardon?”

“You seem quite lost in your thoughts…” TK smirked, then his expression changed to that of puzzlement as he took a sip of his drink, “You know… you have yet to tell me your name.”

“My apologies, sir,” Carlos wiped his sweaty hands on his brown pants and cleared his thirsty throat, “My name is Carlos Reyes.” As they shook hands, Carlos felt something unexpected; something new. In all honesty, he felt scared for the first time in years.

“Carlos,” TK inquired, “My goodness, that is a beautiful name.”

What in the devil was happening? How was this man sitting across from him seducing him with his words and that stare of his? Carlos was starting to get annoyed by the situation. “It was the name I was born with, sir, do not make it an issue of indulgence.”

TK’s eyes widened in surprise, and Carlos immediately felt pain for hurting the man. But the man was quick-whipped, “You speak intelligent words for a—”

The fire fueled on. “For what, sir? A poor pauper?”

“I did not mean….”

“Oh, but I think you did,” Carlos replied quickly and he stood up from the wooden table, angry he had let this random stranger get under his ruff skin like this. He was beginning to feel like the mouse in this game, and he was always calm and collected—now he was anything but that. “I think our night has come to an end… TK.. if that is your real name.”

“Why do you question it?”

Carlos narrowed his eyes, “Please don’t trifle with me. You are not a commoner, you come from wealth.” He motioned to TK’s outfit, “Your appearance alone tells me all I need to know of who you really are. And for the simple fact that you most likely speak down to others. Others you'd consider dirt on your nice shoes.”

TK’s frowned, still looking achingly beautiful, and Carlos wanted to smooth his expression with his fingers. TK took another big sip of his ale. “You know nothing of who I really am, so don’t presume to know otherwise.”

“Whatever your aim is, I want no part in it.”

“Why do you assume I have the motive for such an action?” TK asked as he bit his lip. The motion itself almost knocked Carlos over with lust. “I thought we were enjoying the night, getting to know each other and talking of things with little importance, yet fun nonetheless.”

“Well, as it may… I’ve suddenly grown tired of this dull lack of conversation,” Carlos nodded towards him, “So I’ll take my leave. Good night.”

As he gave money to Roman on his way out he didn’t look back, even though every voice in his mind, and even more importantly his heart, was telling him to.

***

Tyler-Kennedy sat there not understanding what could possibly have happened. He had thought they were getting along nicely. For once in his 26 years of life, he was enjoying himself with someone else’s company. What did he say that was so wrong? He was a fool to feel as though he could pretend he was anything but what he was.

He left more coins and started to walk away upset. Just then an old man grabbed his arm... tightly. Tyler looked over defensively, “Let go of me this instance!”

“I just mean to tell you to not take his actions to heart.”

“Pardon? I do not…. “

The man smiled and wiped his toothy grin. “You are his match in every way that matters, and he fears that. I can see you two together as clear as I can see my hand, sir.”

“So you read fortunes then?” Tyler scowled, running a hand through his thick hair. The man shrugged, but there was something very unnerving about the way he stared into his eyes.

“He thought you were like the rest of them, but you proved to be something quite different. You felt the same about him, no?”

Tyler thought for a minute. What was this old man getting at? But then he thought of what he was saying. Tyler-Kennedy felt at home here, well, when he was sitting in Carlos’ company. He had become quite shaken himself, feeling something far deeper than he should’ve in such a short time. But he would not give in to temptation, “No. I do not feel the same.”

“You lie. You lie not only about who you truly are but your feelings as well. Just because you were born into a certain situation does not make you that. Follow your heart.”

Tyler looked down, “My heart is stone. Nothing can break its walls.”

Shaking his head, the man took a sip of his drink and muttered, “But he will… he will. You shall see, my Lord. It was written in the stars.”

As Tyler turned away, nonplussed, he knew that there was truth in the man’s words.

***

Carlos sat by the edge of the water close to the tavern. His reflection was waving towards him with the help of the moon’s bright light.

His life had been such a mess, but he had enjoyed it… for the most part. He was an orphan who had made something of himself. He was respected by others and feared by some. They looked up to him as they would in a leader; he took care of the people, the ones the other’s left behind. It was something he took great joy in.

Carlos had just forgotten the dream of sharing his life with a companion. For so long he brushed the notion that he needed another. He didn’t want that for himself, truly he didn’t. So why in God’s name was this stranger unnerving him so? He knew he was wrong to lash out at the man for no just reason… but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was changing… maybe within himself. Something called fate. What if he was meant to meet TK?

He laughed at the thought; life didn’t work that way. If so, he wouldn’t be dirt poor. And if he were to think of that notion it begs the question of and what would he do? Save him from his poor life? A man, a proper man, like TK would never truly look his way. Carlos had known that and it had also fueled the fire within. He was tired of not being good enough. Dammit… he hadn't asked for this life… this hand he was dealt. Just once he wanted something that was truly his.

Carlos grabbed a large rock and threw it aggressively into the pond as he swore angrily.

As another rock flew past him and into the water, he turned and pulled his small dagger out.

TK was standing behind him, looking more beautiful than was truly fair. It angered him once more.

“I did not mean to frighten you so,” TK said softly, holding his hands up in a retreating manner.

“Who said you frightened me? You did not.”

A small laugh made its way out of TK’s mouth and Carlos' heart fluttered at the sound. “Your sword towards my throat tells another story.”

Carlos shook his head ignoring his witty banter, “What are you doing here? Are you following me?”

“Well, as there is but one exit… and the storm has finally stopped. I thought I should be on my way.”

“Back to your fortress of money I presume,” Carlos sneered, knowing he wasn’t being fair or kind and feeling instantly bad about it.

“My goodness, I certainly hit a nerve, haven’t I?”

Carlos rolled his eyes, “I’m right, am I not?”

TK nodded, “Yes, I suppose you are. I’ll be swimming in my coins tonight. Is that what you wanted to hear? Yes, I come from great money. My name is Tyler-Kennedy Strand.”

No… it couldn’t be. “You… you are a Strand?”

“That I am. In the flesh.”

“What on earth are you doing here? Will I have my head on a platter for even speaking with you?”

“I don’t know… are you going to try to hurt me?”

“I would never!” The words came quickly out of Carlos’ mouth before he could stop them. “I mean… you have given me no reason to do so. So I shall not… tonight.”

Again, TK surprised him, “I enjoy your spirit, Carlos. You are quite fun.”

“You have no idea how fun I can be,” he replied, eyes growing hungry without meaning so. It was as if TK had control over his mind, body, and soul. He hated it.

“Intriguing…” TK sighed and they stared at one another for a long time. Carlos’ heart was pounding behind his chest the entire time. TK broke off the stare and walked next to him closer to the water. As he looked out towards the mountains, the moon was shining on his face, making him even more breathtakingly beautiful.

“I did not mean to be so cruel, sir,” Carlos expressed, rubbing his head, “I suppose you did frighten me.”

“How so?”

“I think you know….”

TK had nothing to say to this, and Carlos cursed himself silently. Why was he acting like such a fool? Here he was, expressing his heart when it was clearly not reciprocated.

“I ran away.”

Carlos' eyes widened, not for the first time. What had he said? He ran away? Maybe by being open with TK, he was doing the same, “But why? You have everything a person could ever want.”

TK looked over at him with sadness and whispered, “Almost everything.”

His heart broke at that moment, for he knew just what TK had meant. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than this man who stood beside him. Reason be damned.

Carlos looked in his eyes once more; those beautiful eyes that looked of sea glass were a siren calling his inner desires to come out and play. And by God, he wanted to play. TK licked his lips and it was all over….

His mouth moved towards TK’s as light as a feather, inviting his partner in if he wished. Carlos had never been so gentle, but then again, he’d never used his heart in this way either.

***

Tyler-Kennedy didn’t know what was happening, but all he knew was he wanted more of it as he kissed Carlos back. His lips moved slowly at first as a whisper, but when he felt a shock he pulled away.

Was the old man correct? Was this the beginning of what he saw….

As he faltered and stopped kissing back. Carlos pulled away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have inquired….” Carlos said quickly looking down. No, he was mistaken.

Pushing the fear of what could be behind him, Tyler gently tilted the beautiful’s man’s face up to look at him. “I’m happy you did.” He moved closer once more, “The only mistake you made was pulling away….”

Their lips crashed into one another’s more feverishly this time around, surrounded with passion, and Tyler kissed as though he had never kissed another before. In truth, he hadn’t. There had been one man years past, but that was nothing like this. There was a fire within these kisses that made him feel alive for the first time.

Time ceased meaning. Nothing else mattered. Tyler never wanted this to stop. He craved the man in his arms.

Their fingers grazed over one another like a fairy dance; a dance of heaven meeting hell. He wanted more of that fire.

As if Carlos read his mind with some sort of sorcery, he breathed raggedly into Tyler's mouth, “Stay with me tonight?”

He wanted nothing more… but he knew that if he slept with this man, nothing would be the same. It wouldn’t be a one-time thing. Not with how he was feeling about this man, about this night. But looking into the future, what life could he offer them both? He was expected to marry another noble with great fortune and a title. Carlos, the man that had knocked the wooden stool out from under him, was not that. But he was so much more, in all the ways that mattered to his heart.

If he did follow through with this desire, they might both end up broken-hearted… especially if the old man had been correct about their future together. He thought they might be intertwined...and the way this night had gone, was making him believe it so.

But he couldn’t…even though he wanted it more now than ever before. “I cannot,” he finally said, moving out of Carlos’ firm but loving grasp. “I’m sorry.”

Carlos’ look of disappointment was a dagger to Tyler’s heart. He felt tears well up within his eyes and cursed his family’s name. He so badly wanted to be anyone else.

“I understand,” Carlos whispered, looking towards the ground.

He knew that Carlos thought the worst, but how could he tell him what he was feeling so deeply and that he was scared to hurt them both? Tyler shook his head, “No, I don’t think you do… I—”

“Lord Strand! Lord Strand?”

His loud interruption caught him off guard and he looked in the distance. Philip, his lead servant, and four other men from their manor were on their horses calling out his name.

“It seems your adventure of freedom comes to an end,” Carlos replied with a sad smile, on that did not reach his beautiful face.

“It appears so,” he all but growled. He didn’t want to do this, now that he had a taste of what freedom felt like.

Carlos touched his back gently, “Whatever this was… meeting you on this night… I am grateful, Tyler-Kennedy.”

It broke his heart to know that this was their farewell. But all he could do was nod in reply, “You as well.” He smiled, “And it’s TK if you don’t mind.”

Now Carlos smiled again touching Tyler’s face softly, “TK, I do hope to see you again someday.”

Tyler leaned in to kiss him once more and felt that fire within flicker in delight. He pulled away breathlessly and smiled, “I’m sure our paths will cross again. After all, it was written in the stars.” And with that, he walked away from the man who had changed the course of his path forever.