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doyelikehaggis · 3 years ago

Note

For the drabble prompt list you posted... literally any of the gender neutral ones could be Jamie/John 🤣 but here's two, you pick your favorite.

27 screams Jamie/John shenanigans 😂

6 is a totally guilty pleasure John/Brianna 😳

Your wish is my command! 😉 Let's start with some Jamie/John shenanigans! (I'm gonna put them both under a 'keep reading' as John/Bree got away from me a little...)

A hand shoots out and grabs hold of Jamie's sleeve, tuggin' him back into the shadows of the big tree they had been crouched behind for ten minutes already.

'This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard,' John says quietly, clearly as a means of talking him out of it. His eyes are as wide as a well. 'Have you actually thought this through?'

Jamie would be affronted by the dig at his intelligence and the implication that he's thick, if it had been anyone else. With John, he knows he's just checkin' that there's nothing that might have slipped his mind. To satisfy him, Jamie takes a moment to ponder it.

Then he says, 'Aye. I have.'

John gives a great heaving sigh. His eyes close momentarily and, while his hand doesn't loosen on Jamie's sleeve, he catches the flicker of resignation on his face. When John opens his eyes again, he gives a sorta shrug.

'Then tell me again what I'm doing?' he asks, sounding much like he'd rather be back at the Ridge, basking in the rare day of sunshine on horseback or even playing a nice game of chess. Not that Jamie wouldn't like to do the same, but this is more important. They always have time for everythin' else later on; John won't have to leave for another three days.

He dives into an explanation of the plan that he concocted less than an hour ago with some help from Roger and Young Ian, both of whom decided to leave the actual hands-on work to him, laughing aw' the weel.

'And...' John falters when Jamie finishes up, still wearing an expression of something akin to bewilderment, 'you are absolutely sure that we can't just... ask the man for this horse?'

Jamie scoffs and gives him the same look he'd give a man wi' two heads upon his shoulders. John's expression twitches, but he brushes it off as distaste for such an ungentlemanly response.

'Shouldna have to. It's a born and bred Highland Pony, anyone can see tha'. And I've asked around about him. Apparently, he's known to import animals from what he thinks to be exotic places, then he doesna even take care of them. Mistreats them, beats them, and he charges a fortune for their meat at the market an' all. He's got at least a dozen Highland cows on that field, all of them too skinny to sell from being starved half-to-death.'

John heaves another sigh, drops his head forward to hang between his shoulders, then picks it back up with considerably more energy. 'Alright. Lead the way.'

Jamie grins brightly at him, and nods eagerly, before taking off from behind the tree. The plan goes almost completely as it was meant to. He nearly takes a shot in the leg but manages to avoid it thanks to John's intervention at the right time, something he thanks him for sincerely as they're hurrying down the field, trying not to be trampled by the cattle.

And now, oh sweet Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, time for an... interesting moment between John and Bree... 😳

Just from the way that Brianna enters the room, closing the door behind her immediately then turning to lean against it with her hands behind her back and a faint smile on her lips, John can take a guess at where this is going. A dozen and one caged birds flap beneath his ribs, sending a ticklish shock throughout his system.

She breathes deeply, sighing on the exhale with a look of utter relief. Every inch of her body seems to relax now. He can't quite tell if it's from finally being free of the social aspect, or from knowing that she no longer has to be in a state of fear. Either way, he's happy to see her without that dark glint in her eyes for the first time since meeting her.

'That was... certainly something,' she says, lifting a hand to her hair as though to run her fingers through it, only to stop short when she remembers the elaborate style that was forced upon her. She groans softly and begins undoing it as she walks forward, still smiling all the while. 'I have to say, I didn't think that getting married would feel so...'

She trails off, shaking her head as she fails to find a right word to describe the sensation. John understands. He has, after all, done this before. And just like then, with Isobel, there's this deep fondness for the girl standing in front of him who he now gets to call his wife, and knowing that simple fact leaves him with an indescribably joyous feeling deep in his chest.

'I know,' he simply says, for fear of embarrassing himself by voicing such a thing. As sure as he is that she, too, would understand and would agree with him, he doesn't want to scare her off with such sentiments too early on.

Brianna smiles at him. She lingers for a moment longer, then she moves to the bed, where her change of clothes has been laid out for her by Jocasta's girls. That change is a soft white shift, of course.

Even just the thought of seeing her wearing it sends a flush of heat up John's neck, and he already has the urge to turn away for further fear of unsettling her. It's not necessarily sexual, the feeling that he experiences, more so that he feels so fondly for her on a romantic level that simply seeing her wearing such a thing is an act just about as intimate as what comes next, at least to him.

'Aunt Jo said that my mum and... dad will arrive tomorrow,' she tells him lightly, her eyes flicking to him at the mention of Jamie.

He clears his throat, ignoring the further flush of heat beneath his skin. The most he can hope for is that it's not too obvious.

Judging by the way that Brianna's smile grows amused, his hope is fruitless. Still, she doesn't appear to mind his reaction, as she continues on.

'I have no idea how they're going to react,' she says. 'I always wanted my mom to be at my wedding, but with how fast we had to rush into this what with the baby coming early, there just wasn't a way to do it, and I...' She shakes her head again. 'I just hope she's not upset.'

'Oh, Brianna, I doubt your mother could ever be truly upset with you,' John soothes, meaning every word as much as he simply means to comfort her. 'If she's going to be feeling badly about anyone upon her arrival, it is most certainly going to be me. I don't imagine she's going to take too well to me marrying her daughter, without her permission or knowledge.'

'Well, at least you didn't marry her husband,' Brianna jokes, shooting him a grin to rival the Devil himself. 'Though, not for lack of trying, I'm sure.'

John gapes at her in disbelief, and that heat has spread to his cheeks. It's hard to feel too ashamed of how open she is about his feelings for her father though as she splits into angelic laughter, having to momentarily stop trying to untangle her hair.

'I feel that many would disapprove of such a conversation on one's wedding night,' John remarks, smiling. 'Hardly appropriate for the event, I would think.'

Brianna rolls her eyes, something he rarely sees a Lady do so openly. There's something so bold about her that drew him in from the first second; perhaps it's in her genetics. That rare Highlander charm, despite not technically being one herself.

'I think that many people would disapprove of our entire situation,' Brianna counters reasonably, 'not to mention us, as both a couple and also individuals.'

John tilts his head. 'You make a good point.'

Seeing her reach back up for her hair, John steps forward. At her questioning glance, he motions to the back of her hair with a slight raise of his eyebrows, and she happily accepts the silent offer. He begins undoing the complicated but very eye-catching hairdo, sliding out a number of things holding it all in place until it begins falling down, one soft wave of copper at a time.

'Since talking about my parents is clearly off-limits for tonight,' Brianna starts again, and he can hear the smile in her voice as well as the second roll of her eyes, 'maybe we should... talk about... you know. What we do next.'

John's breath catches in his throat. His fingers freeze briefly before he forces them to keep going lest she notices and gets the wrong idea.

'Our marriage isn't technically valid yet... right?' she asks, just to be sure.

He has to clear his throat again before answering, then manages to say, 'You're quite right. It isn't. Not until we've...'

'Consummated it?' Brianna suggests, with a quiver of another bout of laughter in her voice, apparently finding the whole thing rather amusing. Or at least the words used to talk about it. 'We have to have sex before we're legally husband and wife.'

'You are an incredibly outspoken young woman,' John remarks, mainly to cover up his breathlessness at hearing it put quite so bluntly. The words are carried in on the gust of wind that stole his breath and returns the swarm of birds to his ribcage. 'But yes, that is... correct.'

He unpins the last section of her hair and gently places the pin on the dresser. She makes a noise of blissful relief and drags a hand through the tresses. It's almost enchanting to watch how it shimmers in the light as she gently massages her probably aching scalp.

'Thank you,' she says to him gratefully, 'I hadn't realized how tight it was pulling me until now. '

'If you want, I can...'

John gives another motion to her head as she glances back at him.

'Oh, it's fine. I need to change out of all of this.' Then she inhales and focuses her eyes purposefully on him. 'You can help with that, though. If you want to.'

The implication is fairly clear. John doesn't speak. He's not sure anything would actually come out if he tried to, anyway, so he doesn't. He simply nods, sure he looks something akin to a fool.

Brianna makes the first move by sweeping her hair over one shoulder, giving him access to the back of her bodice. Dear god.

John briefly casts his eyes to the ceiling with a silent prayer, despite not being a particularly religious man himself. He's sure he's going to need some kind of forgiveness from some being, though, for laying with Jamie Fraser's daughter.

His hands work delicately but rather efficiently. One lace after another, unthreading them through the holes in the beautiful white fabric of the bodice. When at least he's able to slide the entire thing from around her and set it aside on the chair by the dresser, Brianna breathes like someone who had previously had their airways restricted.

'Oh, it feels so good to get that thing off after hours and hours of not being able to breathe properly,' she says. 'Have you ever worn a corset, John?'

The question would usually be a terrifying one to have asked of him, given the implications that may come with even the thought that lead to someone thinking it's a possibility.

But he doesn't flinch or pause, merely smiles and says, 'I'm afraid I haven't had the opportunity, and given what you just said, I rather don't think I'd enjoy it too much.'

Brianna makes a noise most unladylike that widens John's smile. 'No, you probably wouldn't. I can't imagine anyone likes wearing them, unless they're a masochist.’

'What is a masochist?’m' John asks curiously.

'Someone who enjoys pain, specifically when it's inflicted on themself,' Brianna answers.

'Ah. I see.' John goes about unfastening her overskirt. 'I think I may know a very good example of a masochist, then. Though, something tells me he wouldn't be too inclined to wearing a corset.'

'And I thought that talking about my father was inappropriate.' Brianna turns to him, her expression giving away the joke. 'I'm kidding! I'm kidding! You're completely right. Though, he might be more willing than you think. I definitely don't think he'd have to be forced.'

John wishes he had left his answer at three words now; his skin is flaming, so much so that he's sure Brianna can probably feel the heat emanating from him. If that's the case, then the girl has no qualms about playing with fire, as she places her hands over his, stopping him.

He peers curiously at her face, wondering if perhaps all this talk has changed her mind. She's staring at the floor with her lips parted ever so slightly, wearing a strange expression.

'John, have you...' She inhales, and it's a stuttered thing, making her waist twitch beneath his hands. He waits patiently in case she wants to try again, which she does, with more success. 'You've done this before, I presume? It's just, the way you talked before, you made it sound like you had, so I was...'

'I have,' John says, nodding even if she can't quite see him. And just to be sure there's no misunderstanding, 'With women. As you know, I have been married before. Isobel. And, as you pointed out, there are certain things that must take place before the marriage is seen as valid, so... yes, I have.'

Brianna nods and makes a noise in the back of her throat. Not quite the beautiful 'Scottish noise' that he's become accustomed to from her father, but certainly one similar.

Only, the response concerns him. He recalls what he knows. He would remove his hands from her waist at once, only Brianna's own still linger on them.

'We don't have to,' he tells her softly. 'If you do not want to do this, Brianna, then I promise you, I am not going to force you. We can simply lie. No one will know the truth, that we didn't validate the marriage. Our word is enough.'

Why he hadn't thought to suggest that in the first place is lost on him. He should have. He just got so caught up in the wedding, and when she came into the room, he was... well, enchanted.

To his surprise, Brianna turns suddenly to face him. She presses her lips together, and despite the wideness of her eyes, she gives him the smallest smile.

'You... are wonderful,' she says, moving their hands to be clasped between them, shaking them slightly. 'And I would never think otherwise about you. If you're okay with this then... I want to do it properly.'

'Are you sure?' he asks, shocked. 'I implore you to think about this, and be completely sure that you will not come to regret it or are simply forcing yourself to be okay with it out of some feeling of obligation.'

'I could say the same thing for you,' Brianna replies lightly.

John finally smiles back. 'I have thought about it, I promise you.'

Brianna raises her eyebrows. The twinkle has returned to her eyes, making her look full of life and joy, as someone probably should on their wedding night. They both laugh, and the feeling of simply being with her is a pleasant one.

As her laughter slowly fades out once more, Brianna moves his hands up to rest on either side of her neck. She nods, silently answering his initial question. Her every movement is filled with intention and sincerity, and when she kisses him, she does it with a purposeful slowness, to make sure he understands that it is her choice.

When she pulls back to look at him, he nods once more, and Brianna smiles. Her heart is beating away steadily beneath his fingers. There's something incredibly comforting about it.

Brianna begins unbuttoning his coat. Her eyes barely leave his, and she helps him shrug out of it before working on his cravat. When she finally has him shirtless, she reaches around behind her to finish undoing her overskirt then lets it fall to the floor. John helps with her petticoat. And then she's in nothing more than her shift.

Try as he might not to, his gaze moves down, taking on a mind of their own. He hurriedly lifts them back to her face, ready to apologize, but he finds there to be no need as Brianna appears amused by his reaction.

'I thought you said you'd done this before,' she teases. 'You've gone as red as a beet, and I'm not even naked yet.'

Once again, he's struck by her boldness and way of speaking. He tries to laugh but his throat is surprisingly tight.

'You'll have to excuse me,' he says. 'A lady in her shift, even to her own husband, is practically the equivalent to such a thing. And I am, as always, stunned by your beauty. If you do not mind me saying, my lady.'

Brianna hums gently then reaches back out. She strokes a hand down one of his arms. Across his chest. All while he holds his breath for worry of disturbing her, curious as to what her next move will be.

She flicks her eyes up to his and softly says, 'I don't mind. As long as you don't mind me saying that you're beautiful, too.' Her fingers lightly trace a thin white scar running down the side of his neck, her eyes flickering with a desire to ask about it. 'Do I call you 'my lord' or 'my husband'?'

'Call me whatever most pleases you,' he says without pausing to consider his answer, eliciting an impish smirk from Brianna. 'But I must admit, you do have a way of making my Christian name sound anything but plain.'

He's prepared this time when Brianna kisses him. She seems pleased when he responds, and more so when his hands settle back on her waist. Without all of the previous layers, his fingers press into every curve of her skin as though the shift isn't there at all.

In no too long at all, she's pressing him down onto the bed with her positioning herself above him. Her legs gently squeeze his hips on either side right before she finally breaks away, slightly breathless.

'We should be careful,' John breathes, his own laboured as he sits up to help her slip her shift up over her head. His eyes stay firmly fixed on her face the entire time even when he can't see it. 'If you get pregnant, your father will kill me.'

Brianna laughs in a way that would most definitely get her a scolding from Jocasta if she were to hear. Finally, she's free of the shift. John tosses it aside just as she presses her fingertips to his chest and says, 'I would kill you! I've only just had the last, if I'm pregnant again after tonight, I can guarantee I will do the honours myself.'

'Fair and justified,' he agrees. Something crosses his mind at her remark, and he massages his thumb along her hipbone as his eyebrows draw together. 'It has only been a few weeks. Are you entirely sure that you're physically up to this? I would never want to cause you any harm, even unintentionally.'

'I feel fine, and the usual recommend waiting time is three to six weeks.' Brianna shrugs. 'It's been about four.'

'Then I will just be even more careful,' he promises, to which she gently pushes him back down onto the bed.

So, uh... that got away from me. As Dianna said, 'Lord John had other plans.' And clearly, he was very invested in what was happening between himself and Brianna. As am I, apparently! I hope both of them, but especially the last, are up to standards! I'm only just getting a feel for these characters, hence asking for these requests.

#mistresspandorawritesthings #ask away earthlings!#outlander #jamie x john #john x brianna #john x bree #bree x john #brianna x john #jamie fraser #lord john grey #brianna randall

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jedinerd27 · 3 years ago

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I flirted with the Lord of Dreams in my Dreams... Turns out he's Real: Part 1/?(Short series) Morpheus x GN! Reader

Summary:

You always had strange dreams. You could never really control them, the passage of time, nor the direction they took. So, when you end up in a library looking at stories lost to history and unfinished novels, you bump into a handsome man. A man who quite literally is a man of your dreams.

A/N: Cross posted on my AO3

Word Count 1242

Neil Gaiman please do not read or interact! You may be a huge influence and inspiration for my writing, but I am begging you to please skip over this!

Dreams, something magnificent but also something terrifying. Something that can make sense but also something that can be utter bat shit crazy and doesn’t seem to make any sense.

Your dreams often were the latter, the most chaotic. Never a concrete story line or anything. One moment you would stand in a hallway, the next you're swimming down to the bottom of an ocean. You're walking through a city, next thing you know you can fly, and when you go around the block, it’s a different street. Everything changes. nothing stays the same.

Now whether that’s your subconscious trying to tell you something about yourself, something to do with understanding, or you just had a weird mind.

You have to admit, walking down a bridge into a castle was fantastic. There was even a dragon flapping its wings on the middle spire.

“That’s amazing!” You whisper to yourself as you feel yourself continue to walk towards the castle, and after what felt like a second, you were standing in the middle of the main entrance.

Oh, how your dreams loved to mess around with the passage of time. They were making everything so trippy.

Because what should have taken minutes to walk through the halls to find a library in a massive castle, but you just walked through one set of doors, and you are transported there.

How magnificent the library was, it seems that there are endless levels and shelves of books. Glass panned windows, and an arched ceiling that seemed to have fluffy white clouds wandered through the air.

AS you walk past the books, bound in leather, paperback and hardback, you read off the names of the books.

Sedition by Jane Austen, Love's Labor's Won, The Dark Tower by C.S. Lewis, Great Gatsby by Zelda Sayre…

Your eyes wander about this brown mahogany bookshelf, as you look confused. You were no Library, but you did love stories. And these stories were lost, never finished, or the last one had the actual Author’s name.

“What the hell” You swore, your hand instantly reaching for the Jane Austen title.

“Pardon me Mx. but are you interested in more unpublished novels or literature?” A woman’s voice echoed behind you.

Turning your head you saw a woman in a three-piece suit, shaved head, elf ears. She peered at you with utmost politeness and a little bit of curiosity

“Um, Hi” You waved politely, but a bit nervous.

“Hello.” She smiled. “Are you interested, in such books?” She pointed out the one that lay in your hands. “We have plenty more, and stories that have never been written down.”

“Oh, I wish this was real,” You sighed. “Any chance you got the little Iliad? Oh, what about anything from the library of Alexandria? House of wisdom? God, I wonder what my mind can come up with.”

“Right this way Mx. “ The Librarian turned and started to walk down a section between the tall shelves.

AS you follow after, the architecture changes. A more modern library and then as you pass another shelf it has Egyptian pillars with hieroglyphs, with scrolls in the shelves and flickering flames of lamps.

“Alexandrian Literature would be in here, and a few other books will be down the hallway. If you are looking for anything else just ask for me. My name is Lucienne, I am the librarian of the Library of the dreaming.”

“Library of the Dreaming? Wow, what did i eat to Dream of this, hah. Thank you so much!” You cheer smiling before you extend a hand, which Lucienne shakes. She watches as you run off and instantly reach for a scroll. As you unravel the scrolls, watching as the hairy Greek letters change and shift into something you could actually read.

“Lucienne?” A voice rings out. Turning your head you watch as a man in all black enter the room, as Lucien was organizing a shelf.

“Right here, my lord. Just helping another Dreamer” She walked over to him, having two books in her arm.

“A dreamer?” The man turned towards you. An unreadable expression upon his face. You wave awkwardly before you go back to reading the scroll.

The sound of your voice is sweet

Full like the taste of date wine

And I, a drunken girl in a tangle of flowers

Live only captive to hear

A love poem, how quaint. It was cute and sweet.

‘Oh, that one was not lost '' Lucienne said as she noted the scroll in your hand.

“Lost?” The man asked as you rolled it back up.

“I can put it back, right? I don’t want to mess up the organization.” You noted.

“Yes, you can just place it back there. What do you need Lord Morpheus.”

“You're looking at lost literature ?” HE asked me to take a few steps over.

“Uh, yes. I mean, however, my mind wants to create it in my mind.” Your laugh. You had to admit this was the first time in your dreams that a handsome man that was your type had appeared. Yes, wet cat emo-looking man was a type you appreciated.

“Hmm. Interesting.” His eyes scanned over you, and you felt heat blossom upon your cheeks. “Do you enjoy books?”

“Stories, but books fall under that category.” You smile, as you look fondly at the shelves, peering backward you look back and see the bookshelves you passed. “Always wanted a library for me, guess that's why my dreams are trying to tell me.

“What are your dreams trying to tell you?” He chuckled at your admissions. He leans a bit forward with dark eyes that seem to drink in every inch of you.

“I don’t know. Some physiological bullshit? Recreate the type of guy that I am into?” You confess, not using a filter you would have when awake.

The man in front of you seems taken aback, as he flinches away, with wide eyes, taut lips and creased brows.

“What?” You at first though he sounded offended, but the look upon his face was more of shock.

“Thank you brilliant mind of mine” You sigh fondly.

“This dream is over” The man, Morpheus, raised his voice as he raises a hand, swiping the air like a cat.

Next thing you know, you are in your bed. The room is dark, but you can hear the busy city streets outside. You can here the familiar noise of a local drunk singing at the top of his lungs.

“Back to real life then” You mutter to yourself, wrapping your arms around your front as a way to comfort yourself, but you clutched something in your hand.

A scroll.

The Scroll from your dream.

In the palm of your hand.

“What the actual-”

“WOOF!” came from your closed bedroom door. “WOOOF!”

Your eyes swipe back and forth, between the scroll and your bedroom door.

“Damn it, Achilles” You muttered as you pushed yourself off the bed and palace the scroll upon a night table. Exhaustion washing over you. As you open the door, your golden retriever rushes in and basically throws himself onto your bed. "C'mon boy, not tonight.”

Your dog lets lets out a pleading whimper, tilting his head at you. As you let out a deep breath, your realized your dog has won.

You lay down in your bed as Achilles lays over your stomach and you try to sleep.

You don't dream for the rest of the night.

Taglist:

No one yet, comment or Dm if want to be added!

#morpheus x reader #Dream of the endless x reader #The sandman x reader #the sandman netflix #the sandman comics #Lord Morpheus #Dream of the endless #x reader #reader insert

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notabled-noodle · 3 years ago

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Hi there! I think I have undiagnosed ADHD but I don't "tick all of the boxes," so to speak. Like caffiene gives me the same feeling that understimulation does, where I want to do ALL OF THE THINGS yet I can't do anything and I feel like I don't do *something* then I will spontaneously combust.

Yet I've also heard of delayed... sleep phases can occur? Like something something folk with ADHD commonly have delayed sleep phases and so their natural sleeping rhythm is around 2 am to 10 am. And this tracks with me exactly. I've always had insomnia since I was a kid.

I finally have an actual question for you. And I have immediately forgotten it as soon as I typed that lmao

But ah... Ok it took me a solid ten seconds or more but: how do I tell the difference between like.. so I know that I stim, right, but is it a constant thing that happens? Does it just randomly happen? And understimulation, like, what causes it? I can literally be just fine and then feel like I want to run laps around the backyard or something.

Also my mom and one of my older brothers both have ADHD, but I'm not in a position where I can ask them about their experiences without getting some... invalidating follow up questions from them.

Ah, sorry to bother you, you don't have to reply to this ramble unless you want to, thank you for reading if you choose to do so. Sorry I know it's been super scrambled and all that.

hi! you didn’t bother me at all! I’ve broken your ask up into categories so that my response is easier to read — feel free to let me know if I’ve missed something though.

sleep and caffeine

caffeine impacts every ADHD person differently, the same way it impacts every neurotypical differently. every brain is different, everyone has a different chemical make-up… and that will influence what happens when you have caffeine.

yes, delayed sleep phase syndrome is common with ADHD. you can have it without having ADHD, and not everyone with ADHD experiences it… but yeah! common comorbidity!

stimming

stimming is not a 24/7 thing. it can be random for sure, but it isn’t always.

it tends to just be something that happens when your body needs to release energy or process an emotion. some people only stim for emotional reasons — e.g. flapping their hands to release all their excitement. some people only stim for stimulation reasons — e.g. pacing because they’re full of energy. for most people it’s a mixture.

the thing to keep in mind is that everyone has different needs, so will stim a different amount, and that’s okay!

understimulation

I honestly don’t know what causes understimulation exactly — apart from not receiving the correct amount of sensory, intellectual, or emotional input.

my brain will also seemingly randomly switch from being fine with the current situation to suddenly NEEDING to move or do something more exciting. it can be hard to sort out, and a lot of the time no input feels quite right… so honestly. understimulation is a bit of a mystery to me

hope this all made sense! as always, feel free to send any follow-up questions you have!

#if it doesn’t make sense blame the illness #asks #adhd

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apparentlyaswarmofbees · 4 years ago

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Deaf MC vs Devildom

A HUGE thanks to @jaywalk-on-me for reaching out to me about this subject. I really hope I have given this it some justice.

Also, to avoid some of the controversies inside the Deaf Culture: I will not be referencing cochlear implants.

And a note for my fellow hearing people, there is definetelly not much difference between us and deaf/hard of hearing people, in fact, after reading about it, I can hardly consider it a disability seeing it can actually allow them to percieve the world in a much different way from ours and would not have any problems in their life if only us, hearing peers, were cooperative and understanding. Everything we need to do is literally minor details and does not hinder our own lifes in the slightest, in fact, it can even help us too! An example is captioning, there is literally nothing to lose, and honestly, even I put captioning on movies of my mother lenguage because sometimes I just can't understand what is being said and captions really help me with that and enjoy whatever I am watching to the fullest! So let's be more understanding. We are all humans, and can all learn from each other's perspective.

And as always

Warning: Uncensored swearing lol, and reference to lesson 16

Lucifer

Ah, yes, he knew about it, was in your files, nailed it, he learned your local sign lenguage, all good.

Except his expressions are so damn stiff.

He signs a 'Welcome to The Devildom' and I kid you not, you will not be able to tell if he is trying to be welcomingly polite (and failing miserably) or threatening you.

It was definetelly both

He gets better at it-

Perks if you like classic music though, because you will be able to give him a whole different way of enjoying it.

He won't force you to speak if you choose not to, but he sure will never stop being delighted to hear your voice if you do.

It still baffles him how observant you are, may start trusting you to find details he missed on certain things.

Mammon

He definetelly forgot everything he learned on sign lenguage the moment he stepped out of the tutoring Lucifer made him and all his brothers, except for Levi and Satan, go through.

Yes he will mistake around 5 signs per day on the first week of your arrival in the Devildom.

And he will often forget that you most likelly cannot hear him (if his voice frequency doesn't match your hearing that is) and go off blabbing without signing and then just go "oi why ya ignoring me" and he definetelly is this close 👌to being wacked with the closest thing at range.

Again, he gets better too.

In fact, once he warms up to you (and that's like, real fucking fast) he will make so much effort to get things right, and he always pays attention to have captions in movie nights even without you asking??

He tries lip reading once when you told him it's not easy and, I will let it to your imagination what on hell he managed to lip read.

Leviathan

As mentioned above, he didn't need the tutoring. Why? Guess what, he already knew at least a few sign lenguages, all because of the many animes, games and shows he has watched portray it, even though the ammount of representation is small.(btw I recomend DARK, there is a deaf&mute character and oh boi she's awesome, it's on netflix)

So he definetelly had no problem communicating with you, in fact, he was almost relieved.

He doesn't need to speak verbally?? He basically would rather spoon his eyes out than talk on the phone so on drug levels texting instead is like heroin????

And oh lord you NEED to invite him to the music festivals on the human world catered towards deaf and hard of hearing people, be will LOVE it.

A little bit of downside though, some of his expression changes are very subtle, but as he spends more time with you, he will start incorporating character voices into expressions and body lenguage instead, and you bet he enjoys doing it.

He will definetelly make music just for you. You only hear high frequencies? Or maybe only low frequencies? Or just nothing at all but you enjoy the rythmic vibrations? He definetelly has spend an entire night making a full fucking album just for you.

Satan

Seriously, he knows so many sign lenguages it actually made his way of signing pretty unique!

Another fake ass who will give you gentlemany smiles at first. He may be a way lot more smoother than Lucifer but you bet his fake ass is not passing your vibe check, not with the way his eyes just feel a little bit not right.

Another one who gets better though.

It's kind of nice how he grows so used to signing while speaking that his hands often give off a sign or two even when he is speaking to hearing people.

He will definetelly roast quite a few half assed interpreters.

Also he may or may not have gotten a new obssession after you two watched a few silent movies together??

Asmodeus

Oh boy this one needs to chill out a bit.

If you can't interpret signs when done too fast then good luck because his hands will literally be able to spell a full fucking paragraph in 20 seconds.

And oh how he explores your other senses.

Definetelly goes to you first to judge how he looks.

Also he is the best option to keep yourself informed?? I mean, it's also something he can relate with, it doesn't matter if someone killed somebody or just broke their nail, he needs to know about it.

He may be a bit disappointed if you don't speak but he gets over it quickly.

Will ruin many people's carreer if they so much as refuse to attent to you just because you're deaf. There's just nothing wrong with it??? Stop being so petty!

He is now your biggest distraction in mid class and you will definetelly end each day carrying at least 10 paper notes in which he will try to speak with you. They definetelly smell like whatever he smells like at the time. And are definetelly written in colored pen. With glitter. And there are hearts. And possibly a kiss mark-

Beelzebub

Big boy definetelly has two types of sign lenguage he uses, and if literally depends if he is eating and what he is eating.

Normally he is just, normal lol. Since he is pretty much quite a bit of an amateur at it he will make use of speech filters a lot when he needs to remember certain signs.

If he's holding something big like a sandwich he will either just gulf it all in to have both hands free or try to make a simplified version with one hand. I'll admit the first scenario is quite amusing.

Yes some of the first questions he asks is how to spells certain foods.

And yes you bet you won't be able to know all of them because Devildom food is definetelly something.

Oh and get ready for a bit of chaos if anyone refuses your order because you're deaf.

Please tell him to flap his wings and proceed lay on him or hug him. The vibrations will be very much close to one of those massage chairs.

Belphegor

Oh boy.

First off, he did NOT know about you being deaf because thanks Lucifer.

You guys definetelly spoke in a lot of exchanged notes under his attic door.

He keeps them all hidden somewhere but he will never admit it.

If you're willing to teach him at least how to say 'hi', 'good night' or things like that, he will appear to not be very interested but once the entire lesson 16 fiasco happens they're definetelly the only signs he knows about for some reason when he finally gets tutored.

Still texts you instead.

Even in the same room.

That's what you get from the avatar of sloth I guess-

He does sign a few remarks at you per example commenting on how the new hairstyle Asmo decided to make made his bangs look like a poop behind his back.

Also this:

(The picture above actually happened and was translated to english from my mother lenguage)

#i literally spend DAYS brainstorming this #and then I searched for any other headcanons anyone else has made on deaf people on other fandoms and BOOM #I N S P I R A T I O N #obey me #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #sanaulgi this one is for u #707 #707 mystic messenger #lolololololol

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bevioletskies · 3 years ago

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dream a little dream of me

summary: Ryunosuke had never been one for gloomy, rainy weather, had always preferred the comforting warmth of a clear, sunny day. When a particularly heavy rainstorm keeps him and Kazuma in bed for hours on end, he finds himself slowly starting to think otherwise.

word count: 2.4k | read on ao3

a/n: For @asoryuu-week, day four of seven (prompt: "domestic"). This fic takes place post-Resolve; mild spoiler warning for Adventures and Resolve, where events may be alluded to but not described in detail. All names and honorifics are taken from the official localization, with the exception of Sherlock and Iris.

Fic title is from the song Dream A Little Dream Of Me by The Mamas & The Papas.

“Remind me, Ryunosuke, what is it they say about a heavy head? Because yours is certainly making it harder for me to breathe.”

Ryunosuke sighed, lifting his supposedly heavy head from his partner’s chest to level him with a sleepy glare. “Good morning to you, too. Must you demean me before we’ve even gotten out of bed?”

Kazuma’s warm, slightly raspy laughter soothed Ryunosuke somewhat, though he still couldn’t help but feel slightly irritated. “Well, it’s hardly my fault you’re so fun to tease. No one else reacts quite like you do.” Then, Kazuma cupped Ryunosuke’s jaw in one hand, running his thumb across Ryunosuke’s mouth. “And I mean that in all manner of things, if you get my meaning.”

“You’re terrible,” Ryunosuke informed him, though he allowed Kazuma to kiss him anyway, grunting slightly when Kazuma rolled over to straddle him, sinking his entire body into Ryunosuke’s, fingers digging into his sides. “Mm...Kazuma, th-they’re waiting for us downstairs - ”

“Let them wait,” Kazuma murmured, playfully nibbling Ryunosuke’s bottom lip. One of his hands had now moved to Ryunosuke’s thigh, caressing him teasingly. “It’s been too long since we’ve had some time to ourselves.”

“You were only here two nights ago,” Ryunosuke said breathlessly; Kazuma’s mouth had quickly made its way from his neck to his collarbone, leaving a heated trail of kisses down the length of his throat. “Remember? That’s when I finally agreed to - ”

“Ry-u! Kazz-y! Won’t you be joining us for breakfast?”

“Damn,” Kazuma muttered, reluctantly climbing off so he could smooth out the front of his jinbei. Despite Ryunosuke’s continued annoyance at Kazuma’s insatiable nature, if he wanted to put it kindly, he also couldn’t help but admire how flushed Kazuma’s ears, neck, and chest had become in the last few minutes alone. “We’ll be right there, Iris, sorry for keeping you!”

“That’s okay!” Iris called back, her footsteps already beginning to fade away. “Just as long as you’re both properly dressed, alright?”

Ryunosuke groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “This is all your fault, you know that?” Kazuma merely scoffed, rifling through his bag so he could find the fresh set of clothes he’d packed for his overnight stay. “Though I suppose nothing will ever be as bad as the time you pulled me aside in the middle of an investigation and - ”

“I thought we both found that to be a thrilling and memorable experience, but fine,” Kazuma said with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll see to it that we won't try anything that adventurous ever again.”

“We almost got caught!” Ryunosuke exclaimed, agitatedly flapping his shirt in Kazuma’s face. “Don’t you realize how much trouble we would’ve been in?”

Kazuma stared at Ryunosuke in complete and utter disbelief. “...Ryunosuke, you’ve committed treason. You’ve implicated so many government officials, exposed so many government secrets - ”

“...all the more reason not to take a chance?” Ryunosuke offered sheepishly. “Anyway, let’s get dressed before they come looking for us again. I swear I can hear Susato-san’s footsteps coming up the stairs.”

A little over an hour later, Ryunosuke, Kazuma, and Susato returned to the attic, pleasantly sleepy from the generous meal that Iris had prepared for everyone. The rain was still thumping against the windowpane, an erratic tap-tap-tap that filled the entire room, rendering the three of them barely able to hear themselves or each other.

“I know you were planning on returning to your own flat, Kazuma-sama, but I would advise against it in a storm like this,” Susato mused, momentarily brushing the curtains aside so she could look out over the soggy, sorry state of London’s streets. “And I’m sure Naruhodo-san wouldn’t complain if you stayed.”

“I’m sure as well, though Ryunosuke is clearly in no position to answer either way,” Kazuma said dryly, gesturing in Ryunosuke’s direction, where he was currently curled up on the floor by Susato’s tea set, half-asleep and hugging his daruma to his chest. Susato watched, giggling, as Kazuma walked over to gently prod Ryunosuke in the shoulder with his foot. “Come now, Ryu, don’t make me carry you back to bed.”

“We both know you’d like that,” Ryunosuke mumbled. Susato only just managed to refrain from rolling her eyes at them - she’d been privy to far too many of their supposedly private conversations for her liking - instead electing to pat Kazuma on the arm.

“I think this is the perfect weather for a nap, personally,” she said, looking at him meaningfully. “If you plan on returning to bed as well, I can let Iris and Mr Holmes know not to disturb any of us until dinner.”

“That would be great, Susato-san, thank you,” Kazuma said sincerely, though he secretly suspected she just wanted to leave them be. Once she disappeared back down the stairs, he looked down at Ryunosuke with an irrevocably fond sigh. “Ryunosuke…”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m getting up,” Ryunosuke yawned, reluctantly pulling himself to his feet. “Bed?” Grinning, Kazuma wordlessly took Ryunosuke by the hand and led him towards his bedroom - their bedroom, really, given how often he stayed over these days. Moments later, they clumsily tumbled back into bed, having changed into their sleepclothes once more.

“You’ve still got a bit of egg on your face,” Kazuma observed, wiping Ryunosuke’s cheek. “How does this keep happening to you?”

“Eat too fast,” Ryunosuke murmured, turning to kiss the palm of Kazuma’s hand. “Food...good.”

“Your grasp of both the Japanese and the English language is incredible,” Kazuma drawled, carding his fingers through Ryunosuke’s hair. He then pulled him closer, burying his face into Ryunosuke’s neck. “I thought you went back home to finish school, did you not? Surely you can do better than ‘food good’.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Ryunosuke said, sighing, letting out an exaggerated exhale directly in Kazuma’s face. Still, he turned over so he could wrap his arms around Kazuma’s waist, snuggling contentedly into his chest. “I really should just kick you out and make you go home.” Laughing, Kazuma kissed the top of his head.

“Not in this weather, you wouldn’t,” Kazuma replied. As if to illustrate his point, there was a loud, thunderous crack that practically shook the entire room. “If this storm keeps up, I might have to live here indefinitely.” Ryunosuke merely grunted in response. “Well, you don’t have to sound so pleased about it.”

“Oh - no, it’s not that,” Ryunosuke reassured him, sitting up somewhat so he could look Kazuma in the eye. Despite Kazuma’s typical brusque, yet affectionate nature, he could tell that Kazuma was slightly hurt. “I was just thinking about how much I dislike storms. Rain is fine on occasion, but...it seems as if London is in a permanent state of misery sometimes, you know? And it makes us miserable all the while.”

Kazuma’s clouded expression cleared up instantly. “It’s been ages since we’ve had sunshine,” he agreed, now dropping his head to rest on Ryunosuke’s shoulder. “It would’ve been nice to go for a walk together before I leave...whenever that is.”

“Like we used to do before class,” Ryunosuke said quietly, nodding. “You could never convince me to join you during your morning exercises, though.”

“Forget morning exercise, I had to literally drag you out of bed sometimes,” Kazuma snorted, tangling their fingers together. “I hear Susato-san hasn’t had any luck with getting you to exercise more, either.”

“I exercise enough,” Ryunosuke huffed, pinching Kazuma’s side; much to his dismay, Kazuma merely laughed in response. “I do plenty of pacing up and down during trials, you see.”

“I do see,” Kazuma teased. “I should look for permanent scuff marks behind the defense bench and the witness stand the next time we’re in court. You have a tendency to drag your feet, after all.”

Rolling his eyes, Ryunosuke made a show of yanking his hand out of Kazuma’s grasp and turning over with his back to him, pulling his side of the blankets over his head. “...I’m really starting to think you have nothing nice to say about me at all.”

Even when he wasn’t looking at him, he could tell Kazuma was smirking. “Oh, I think I praise you plenty. But in case you were wanting to hear it…” In one quick motion, Kazuma swept the bundled-up Ryunosuke into his arms, Ryunosuke’s back pressed against his chest, his breath ghosting the shell of Ryunosuke’s ear. “...I love you, Ryunosuke. And I’ll say it as many times as you’d like; all you need to do is ask.”

“Wonderful, now I just sound needy,” Ryunosuke said, sighing yet again, though he craned his neck to kiss Kazuma anyway, tossing the blanket around his shoulders so they were both enveloped in its warmth. Kazuma slowly lowered him onto his back, onto the mattress, knees braced on either side of Ryunosuke’s hips, fingers digging into Ryunosuke’s waist.

“You can insult me back, I don’t mind,” Kazuma murmured, sucking a bruising kiss along the crook of Ryunosuke’s jaw. Though they’d crawled back into bed for a nap, Ryunosuke was starting to feel more and more alert by the second. “Do your worst.”

Ryunosuke hummed, thinking. “...sometimes, you try too hard. You need to relax more, Kazuma. There have been some jurors and witnesses who’ve been intimidated by you, even though you aren’t trying to be malicious.”

“Fair enough.” Kazuma’s voice was low, raspy, sending shivers up Ryunosuke’s spine. “Anything else?”

“You have a bad habit of interrupting people,” Ryunosuke continued, prodding Kazuma in the chest with an accusatory finger. “Even Iris seemed annoyed with you last night, when she was asking us about our latest trial. I know you think you were helping, but I can speak for myself just fine. We’re not in school anymore.”

“...ah.” Kazuma looked humbled, almost remorseful. “I...I’m sorry, Ryu, I didn’t realize. I honestly thought we were just telling them about what happened together.”

“And you need to stop biting me like I’m a piece of meat - ”

“No one can see them!”

“Kazuma, you're doing it again - ”

“Doing wh - oh.” Kazuma burrowed his face into Ryunosuke’s chest, cheeks burning hot with shame. Ryunosuke couldn’t help but laugh; it wasn’t often that he got to embarrass Kazuma and render him speechless. “I...see that I’m not quite the partner I’d thought or, or hoped I was.”

“Last, but definitely not least - ” Ryunosuke abruptly took Kazuma’s face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks until his lips puckered “ - you don’t need to be quite so dramatic, either. I still love you all the same, Kazuma.” He smirked. “And I’ll say it as many times as you’d like; all you need to do is ask.”

Kazuma stared down at him with wide, imploring eyes. Then, he cocked his head to one side, his frown melting into a warm, radiant smile. “...again.”

“I love you.” Ryunosuke kissed Kazuma’s cheek, then the tip of his nose, then finally, his lips. Beaming, Kazuma kissed him back, a little sweeter this time, a little less sensual. “Especially because you’re a little needy, too.”

They fell silent for a few minutes, save for the steady sounds of the rain and thunder and wind whistling past their window, exchanging slow, languorous kisses and simply enjoying one other’s company. Though Kazuma spent more nights at Baker Street than not, in a way, it still felt as if they had months, even years, of lost time to make up for, even though they hadn’t been apart - or a part of each other’s lives, for that matter - for that long. It was times like these that Ryunosuke found himself reminiscing about their university days, the early days of their companionship, when they’d have spirited debates that ended in spirited laughter and meandering conversations about nothing in particular.

“I can hear you thinking, partner,” Kazuma murmured, brushing Ryunosuke’s hair out of his eyes. “Something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” Ryunosuke said, pulling away momentarily to yawn. “Only that we were supposed to be taking a nap, and instead, we spent the last ten minutes poking fun at each other. Though I suppose that’s just an extension of the way we speak to each other in court at times.”

“Susato-san has been scolding you about that as well, has she? Perhaps we do need to - I need to be more careful,” Kazuma corrected hastily when Ryunosuke leveled him with an impressively Kazuma-like glare. “Though we’d be in even more trouble if I were to, say, openly comment on how handsome you looked in court just last week, when your hair was a little bit longer in the back. I thought it suited you.”

“Why do we need to be in trouble at all?” Ryunosuke retorted, elbowing him a little harder than necessary. “I’d rather we do our jobs like the proper lawyers that we are - ”

“Well-behaved schoolboys, you mean,” Kazuma teased.

“ - and come home at the end of the day, where we can do as we please,” Ryunosuke finished.

Kazuma looked at him consideringly, his gaze impossibly soft. “Ryunosuke Naruhodo, are you implying you’d like me to move in someday?”

“What? I - ” Ryunosuke stared at him, momentarily stunned. Then, he relaxed, his head dropping back to his pillow, where Kazuma followed him down, their eyes still locked. “I, er...I thought that was a given. Though I worry that...that people might talk, as they’re wont to do.”

“Professor Mikotoba lived here with Mr Holmes for some time, did he not?” Kazuma pointed out. “Besides, even if people talk, why listen? All that matters is what we think of ourselves, as trite as that might sound.” He leaned in close, pressing a lingering kiss to Ryunosuke’s forehead. “So, just know that whenever you decide to ask, you already have my answer.”

“Then I think I’ll make you wait for just a little bit longer before I do...if only to get back at you for two nights ago,” Ryunosuke added with a smug smile, laughing when Kazuma glared daggers at him in response.

“And you think I’m the cruel one,” Kazuma muttered, pulling Ryunosuke into his arms once more so he could hold him rather possessively, their legs loosely intertwined beneath their mess of blankets. “You told me you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did, believe me,” Ryunosuke grinned, blushing faintly at the sudden vivid memory that had come to mind. “But just this once, I’d like to have the upper hand.” He then leaned in to kiss Kazuma’s exaggerated pout. “Anyway, we really should be getting to sleep now, or it’ll be time for dinner before we know it. I can barely keep my eyes open at this rate.”

“Agreed,” Kazuma said, yawning. He shuffled closer, dropping his forehead down to rest against Ruynosuke’s. “Good...morning, Ryunosuke.”

Ryunosuke shot him one last sleepy, fond smile before letting his eyes drift shut. “Good morning to you, too, Kazuma.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my fourth entry for Asoryuu Week 2021! We've moved on from sad Kazuma hours to semi-horny Kazuma hours, I guess? Blame it on Kazuma talking about getting Ryunosuke off and holding his hand over a hot plate and finding ways to shut him up; you can't tell me he's not doing this at least a little bit on purpose. Anyway, I always love writing plotless cuddling fics where they basically talk about nothing. I could've made this way, way longer, easy, but we've still got three more days to go!

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

#asoryuu #asoryuu week 2021 #ace attorney #asoryuu fic #dai gyakuten saiban #the great ace attorney #ace attorney spoilers #dgs spoilers #tgaa spoilers #tgaac spoilers #myfic #long post #this is just cuddling i promise!! kazuma's just being...kazuma

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captainimprobable · 3 years ago

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Alright I caved. Here’s chapter one of the still unnamed sequel to No Apologies, my Lumity coffeeshop AU. It’s been seven months since I finished the fic so I hope yall are still down for the ride! The chaos starts now :) ~

“This might be a bad time to tell you this, but roosters….kinda freak me out.”

“Amity, we are literally swimming in roosters right now.”

Amity hugged herself, shaking but still managing to roll her eyes. “We are metaphorically swimming in roosters.”

Luz snorted. “Whatever, Miss Accurate.”

They both looked at the rooster pen in front of them. A cow mooed in the distance, and they took a moment of silence to question the life choices that had led up to this moment.

It didn’t take very long. The pipeline went like this: Amity had decided to work part time at a coffee shop to piss off her parents, and two years later she was on a six month anniversary trip with a chaotic ball of energy, tripping on bird feathers at a barn many miles away from home. Simple.

“It...it was just supposed to be an air bnb,” Luz said helplessly.

“Luz, what did the ad say?”

Luz scrambled to take her phone out of her pocket, mindlessly swatting away the pig trying to eat it out of her hand.

“Uh…’stunning country views and a realistic farming experience.’” She stomped her foot. “That is so misleading!!!”

“I genuinely think I’m about to pass out.” Amity said, swaying slightly.

“Babe, don’t say that. The roosters can smell your fear.”

Amity glared at her girlfriend. “Ha ha,” she said sarcastically. “Fine, what’s next on the list they left us?”

Luz pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper covered in lines of print detailing exactly what they had to do in order to stay at the barn. It was politely decorated with a post it note that read “Good luck, suckers!”

“Inspect the roosters,” she read. “Check for obvious genetic defects. Separate these roosters from the rest.”

Amity held up a hand to stop her. “No. Nope. I am not inspecting roosters. I am not separating roosters. I am going back inside, and I am going to read a book, and I am going to pretend there are no demon chickens out here ready to peck my eyes out.”

Amity gingerly tiptoed around the roosters, taking care not to touch any of them. One brave animal attempted to peck at her skirt, but she let out an unholy shriek that scattered them all. Luz watched Amity flee the scene, sighing. She picked up the list Amity had dropped and scanned the next few lines. ��The roosters with these defects will be…” she trailed off. “Oh,” she said, realization dawning. “Oh no.”

Amity must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, it was dark and Luz was shaking her awake.

“Amity, wake up, we have an emergency.” Amity was up in an instant. “What’s wrong? Are you okay???” “Yeah, I’m fine!” Luz assured her. “It’s just uh…..” Luz rubbed the back of her neck nervously. “We have a...situation?”

Amity yawned and stretched, rubbing her eyes as she stood up. Immediately, Luz grabbed her hand and began dragging her outside. “Ugh, what time is it?” Amity asked, stumbling along behind Luz.

“Uhhh about one am I think? I had to wait until now to do this. It’s better under the cover of darkness.”

Immediately, Amity felt a sense of extreme trepidation. Whatever was waiting for her outside was definitely not something she wanted to see.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she was met with the sound of roosters clucking. When they reached the driveway, she stopped dead. “Luz,” Amity said slowly, blinking repeatedly to make sure she was seeing things correctly. “Why are there a dozen roosters in your car?”

“There’s actually fourteen,” Luz said, but faltered when Amity glared at her. “Okay, so the thing is, well….the farmers wanted us to separate the roosters because these are the ones with defects. And these are the ones they’re gonna sell for meat.”

“Oh god,” Amity groaned. “Don’t tell me-”

Luz’s grin looked almost evil in the moonlight. “We’re gonna save the roosters.”

“Luz, where the hell are you planning on bringing them??? Most roosters live in captivity!”

“So I looked it up, and it said that roosters thrive in forest climates, and the nearest forest is only two hours away!!!!”

Amity wanted to say she was surprised, but she knew Luz well enough at this point to know to expect this from her. She reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Luz,” she said gently. “I love how big your heart is, and I love that you want to save these animals. But roosters are supposed to live on farms. Also, you had chicken salad for lunch.”

Luz looked at her with puppy eyes. Fuck. Amity couldn’t resist that.

She sighed. “Fine,” she said. “We can save the roosters. But you know the farmers are gonna make us pay for them.”

“Ahhhh thank you!” Luz squealed, throwing her arms around Amity’s neck. She kissed her cheek. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Amity grumbled. “Now get in the car before I change my mind.”

It was going fine until they reached the gas station. The roosters were in the back, probably shitting all over Luz’s car, and Amity was in the passenger seat, gripping the door handle and trying not to freak out.

“Shit,” Luz said over the radio about a half hour into their ride, summing up Amity’s thoughts nicely. “We need gas.”

“I’ll get it,” Amity volunteered quickly. Anything to get out of the car, anything to get away from the ominous clucking emerging from the backseat. She opened her door. And that’s when all hell broke loose.

Fourteen roosters, smelling freedom and gas station muffins, burst from the back seat into the front, climbing over Amity and streaming out of the passenger side door. Amity shrieked and fell out of the car, scraping her arm on the concrete as roosters used her back as a jumping off point into the night.

Amity hissed as she used her arms to get up, her scraped elbow burning. Luz ran around the side of the car to help stop the roosters, but it was too late. They both watched helplessly as the birds flapped their wings and hopped away.

It was two thirty in the morning, and they had released roosters into the town.

They were both silent as they ruminated on what had just happened. The birds clucked in the distance, joining the cicadas in their unholy screaming.

“We need to go,” Luz said at last, far more calmly than the panicked look in her eye suggested. She helped Amity up, careful not to touch her injured arm and, without another word, they both got into the car and sped away.

Since they were fugitives now, they could no longer sleep at the barn. Forgetting the fact that the barn’s owners had their information and would no doubt charge them for the roosters anyway, they quickly picked up their things, got back into the car, and bolted. They drove for a couple of hours, trying in vain to ignore the strong smell of bird shit emanating from the backseat. The streetlights illuminated the scene: feathers in the backseat, feathers in Amity’s hair, blood gently staining the paper towel Amity was holding to her elbow.

After awhile they passed a sign for a Bed and Breakfast and Luz, having determined they’d gotten far enough away from the scene of the crime, turned the car in that direction. They were quite a sight as they straggled into the quaint house, but the elderly owners asked no questions as to why they had shown up at four in the morning covered in feathers, so Luz and Amity gratefully stumbled up the stairs, finally collapsing in their new room. Despite the summer heat, Amity was shivering, so Luz hurried to light the fireplace.

Once she’d tended to the fire, Luz sat down on the floor next to Amity. “Show me,” she said, gesturing to Amity’s injured arm. Amity wordlessly offered up her elbow, which Luz inspected. “You don’t need stitches,” she said gratefully, pulling out a Naruto bandaid.

“How could you possibly know that?” Amity asked quietly. Luz shrugged. “I was really clumsy as a kid.”

Amity raised an eyebrow. “Okay, fine, I’m still clumsy,” Luz admitted.

Their silences were usually comfortable, but this one most definitely was not.

“I’m really sorry,” Luz finally whispered, gingerly covering Amity’s wound with a picture of Sasuke Uchiha. “I didn’t mean to ruin our anniversary trip.”

They hadn’t spoken much since The Incident. Amity had stared stonily out the car window while Luz drove and occasionally attempted to covertly glance at her girlfriend. Hours had passed without Luz saying a word, a feat which Luz was secretly quite proud of.

“I really thought we’d manage to have a normal, nice time,” she continued, “but I ruined it, and now there’s a town being terrorized by roosters and it’s all my fault.”

Amity didn’t say anything for a few moments and then, unexpectedly, she started to laugh.

“Um,” Luz said. “Amity? Did you hit your head, too????”

“No, no,” Amity said between giggles. “It’s just- it’s so us. Who else would this happen to?????? We released fourteen roosters onto an unsuspecting town in the middle of the night, and your car is covered in shit. I really should’ve expected something like this.” “So...you’re not mad?”

“I was,” Amity admitted. “In the car, I was kind of pissed. I mean, you did wake me up in the middle of the night, which, as you know, is never a good idea, and we did have to flee our romantic trip like criminals. But then I started thinking, and, I don’t know.” She smiled almost shyly at Luz.

“I knew what I was getting into when I told you I loved you,” she said simply. “And I’m happy being with you, even if I did have to face one of my worst fears.”

“Oh my god,” Luz said, lower lip trembling. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“Don’t go all soft on me now,” Amity said, rolling her eyes with a smile.

Luz launched herself at Amity, and they fell over, rolling across the carpet a few times before finally landing next to each other on the floor. Luz touched her forehead to Amity’s. “I’ll always be soft when it comes to you,” she said.

“Gay,” Amity whispered back, but leaned forward and captured Luz’s mouth with hers.

After the day they’d had, neither of them had the energy to get up, so they ended up sleeping on the floor that night, cuddled up on a blanket next to the fire.

“Happy anniversary,” Luz mumbled sleepily into Amity’s neck right before she drifted off to sleep.

“Happy anniversary,” Amity answered.

Despite it all, they both fell asleep with smiles on their faces.

#lumity #the owl house #this will be posted on ao3 once im almost finished with the whole fic #it may be awhile but whatev #writins #i sincerely hope enough people remember my fic that ppl will read this

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sunsoothed · 4 years ago

Text

last love

prompt fill time! i got this prompt ages ago, i think when the show was still airing, and i just finished writing it in two days or so. it's turned out to be much longer than i intended, and i'm pleased about that. there is bye bye balloon date and a night spent in busan. warning for one instance of referenced internalised homophobia.

word count: 2294

read on ao3

enjoy!

Unfortunately sunny, the day reigns. There is a flyer slid cleanly under Jipurgi Law Firm’s door, inoffensive to the eye, nothing special. It is Chayoung who first takes note of it, hearing the paper flap as a draught sings through the office.

She stands in her heels, staring down at the complexity of colour, before she finds a very, very familiar face.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung says, as she bends down and picks the flyer up, “You didn’t tell me you got another job.”

Vincenzo furrows his brows, leans back in his chair to observe what Chayoung’s got her hands on to make her hypothesise such a thing. He leans back far enough to catch sight of the flimsy flyer, distantly notices the Bye Bye Balloon logo, and in his shock, manages to tip his chair back entirely.

Minutes later, Vincenzo holds an ice-pack to the back of his head, seated at the table in the middle of the office. Chayoung sits at the head of the table and Mr Nam opposite him, the both of them eagerly awaiting an explanation while the flyer sits innocently on the table. Vincenzo can see his own tired face reflected back at him.

“Seokdo-hyung asked me to model for him,” Vincenzo mumbles.

Chayoung leans forward, her hands clasped together and forming a triangle with her forearms. “I didn’t hear you, could you repeat that?”

Vincenzo shoots her a dirty look, and replies with a scowl: “Seokdo-hyung asked me to model for him.”

“Wow,” Mr Nam nods. “Wow,” He repeats, and then he claps.

With a deadpan expression, Vincenzo hits his head with the ice-pack.

Chayoung bites her lips to hide a grin. “Modelling, then?”

“He said I owed him,” Vincenzo mutters. “You can see I’m not happy about it.”

Chayoung ignores him completely. Her massage toy materialises out of somewhere and taps him on the shoulder.

“Do you get a free ride if you modeled for them?”

Vincenzo glares first at the toy, then at Chayoung. “How would I know.”

“Tch.” She glares back. “I’m going to ask them.”

Before Vincenzo has time to process what she’s saying, Chayoung skips out of the office. His panicked byeonhosa-nim! fails to reach her ears, and with a sigh he resigns himself to his fate.

It’s a week later that Chayoung drags him to spend a night in Busan, quite literally pulling him by the hand into the train at five-thirty AM. The one backpack of their shared necessities for one night slings heavily over his shoulders.

Seokdo-hyung had already started setting everything up at the port, or so he’d told them, when they’d called him last night. He also specified that they needed to arrive before nine in the morning, then he harped on about logistics of wind direction and whatnot, and Chayoung had put him off speaker and returned to going through Vincenzo’s cupboard.

Of course, she had shown up at his place uninvited, and of course, he let her do whatever she wished.

And so were the consequences: one bad cup of espresso at the train station and three hours in-and-out of sleep aboard the train. Chayoung shakes him awake fifteen minutes before they arrive, something unmistakably soft in her eyes as he removes his head from her shoulder.

“You’re like a cat,” She tells him, smile mild and indulgent. When he asks her to, she refuses to elaborate on it. “You just are.”

Chayoung takes his hand the moment they get off the train. Vincenzo stares down at their joint hands, then at Chayoung’s face, an obvious question in his raised eyebrows.

“You’ll get lost,” She explains. “I bet you’ve never been to Busan before.”

Vincenzo opens his mouth, always ready to argue with her, before he realises that she’s actually right. “I haven’t,” He acquiesces. “Lead the way.”

When Chayoung grins at those words, there is a blush high on her cheekbones, reflecting in the morning sunlight. Vincenzo wants to kiss her.

So it turns out Seokdo-hyung is actually competent at his work, for he had everything prepared when Vincenzo and Chayoung arrived on site, still holding hands. He had nothing to say to that.

“I’ll take you for a nice ride around the coast, but since you both aren’t actually using our service, you get none of the on-flight snacks and we’ll come down before we use up too much fuel. Clear?”

“Clear!” Chayoung exclaims, determined in the sharpness of her eyes. Vincenzo just nods.

Seokdo-hyung claps his hands together, then gestures for them to get on, scampering on once the both of them are standing in the basket. They’re high up in no time, Busan’s urban landscape majestically below them.

“I usually don’t do this,” Seokdo-hyung starts up, after they drift for a few minutes. “But it’s difficult to get licensed to pilot this, so I’m glad I can put my skills to use.”

“You have a very mysterious past, Mr Nutria,” Chayoung calls from across the basket. “How random is a hot air balloon license.”

“Ah,” Seokdo-hyung stares out into the distance, exclaims somewhere between wistful and egoistic. “I’m full of surprises.”

Vincenzo and Chayoung share a smile. Vincenzo shifts closer, so that they’re both sharing the same view, shoulder to shoulder.

“I’ve never seen something like this,” Chayoung tells him, voice soft. She leans into his shoulder to be heard, Vincenzo automatically leaning down to accommodate her.

“Me neither.”

Chayoung laughs, airy and giddy, her eyes on his face for just a second before she continues to take in the scenery. “It’s nice up here, isn’t it?”

Vincenzo blinks softly at her. “Mm. It’s a little cold, but yes, nice. Very nice.”

“You always underdress because you want to look cool,” Chayoung tuts. “I expected this.”

Vincenzo, who has never been so perceived and so personally affronted, only stares mutely as she produces a woolen scarf from her handbag. Before he has the opportunity to ask her exactly how she managed to stuff it in her bag, she’s throwing it around his neck, wrapping it tightly.

“Too - too tight,” Vincenzo winces, as Chayoung pulls the ends of the scarf; constricting his throat.

Chayoung’s eyebrows shoot up in alarm, then fall back down in annoyance as Vincenzo grins at her. She shoves his shoulder.

“Idiot,” Chayoung huffs, pointedly looking away from him.

“Wouldn’t it be funny,” Vincenzo starts, placating her with a hand on her shoulder, “If you managed to kill me like that?”

“You’re seriously asking to be killed now,” Chayoung replies, diluted astonishment. “With your mother’s scarf, too. You’re very dedicated to giving yourself a horrible end.”

“That won’t be a horrible end,” He says, toys with the scarf around his neck. “At least, not for me.”

“Not after all you’ve done?”

Vincenzo exhales and bites the flesh of his lower lip. Then he nods at Chayoung.

Chayoung drapes an arm over his shoulder. “Then we’ll go together.”

“Byeonhosa-nim —”

“We’ll go together,” Chayoung vows, leaving no room for argument.

Early evening, Seokdo-hyung has already made his way back to Seoul. Vincenzo and Chayoung have since walked enough to exhaust themselves and eaten too much off the streets of Busan to need dinner. Chayoung still stops him by a convenience store near the Hyatt, and puts two packets of ramen’s worth of bills on his credit card.

“I spent all my money treating you,” Chayoung explains, when Vincenzo holds his mouth open and eyebrows raised throughout the billing process. “Be grateful.”

“On no, of course,” Vincenzo sarcastically inclines his head. “It’s not like I’ve been carrying your luggage the whole day.”

He still holds the door open for her when they exit.

“If it’s too much for your old, weary shoulders, I’ll carry the bag.”

“When we’re outside the hotel?” Vincenzo smiles his fake smile while looking up at the building. “Thank you for your kind offer, byeonhosa-nim.”

Chayoung smiles back smugly.

Well, turns out she wanted him to suffer more.

“There’s only one bed.”

Chayoung just shrugs. Vincenzo scrunches his brows.

“Where will I sleep?”

“On the bed,” She replies.

“And where will you sleep?”

“On the bed.”

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Vincenzo begins, but he doesn’t know where he’s going with it. “Byeonhosa-nim.”

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung parrots back. “Is it a problem?”

Between Vincenzo’s quiet crisis over the bed and his stuttering, Chayoung has very happily dug her clothes and toiletries out of the backpack.

“I’m going to change,” She calls over her shoulder. “Don’t just stand there.”

Vincenzo, who had been planning to just stand there for a good few minutes more, does not budge an inch. In fact, he’s in the same position when Chayoung returns from the bathroom, mouth minty and feet bare.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” She says softly. “Is it really a —”

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Vincenzo interrupts her. “Can I kiss you?”

When the sun announces the first of its presence, it’s palpable through the translucent curtains of the hotel room. Chayoung awakens from her catnap against Vincenzo’s shoulder, her hair draped over his chest. She hums, content, runs a hand over his torso, eventually settling on the curve of his waist and clutching.

“You’re awake?” Vincenzo’s dry voice sounds from above her. “Did you sleep well?”

Chayoung smiles up at him. “Very well.”

Vincenzo responds in kind; he holds her by the waist, guiding her slightly upwards for a kiss.

“You would, after you exhausted yourself like that.”

“Why do I get the feeling you talk to all your hook-ups like that?” Chayoung wonders while she lightly traces his jaw with her free hand. “Is this how you usually do this?”

“This isn’t a hook-up to me.”

“No?” Chayoung’s fingers stop shy of his lips.

“No,” Vincenzo confirms, bends down to kiss her fingers. “It’s much more than that.”

She sighs against his chest. “For me, too. You’re not a hook-up.”

Vincenzo kisses her forehead.

“But…”

“But?”

Chayoung hides her face in his neck. “But I won’t say this is some first love thing either.”

That draws a laugh out of him. “First loves are overrated anyway.”

Chayoung peers at him. “Sounds like there’s a story behind that.”

Vincenzo tilts his head to look at her. Chayoung gets the hint, lazily boosting herself up on her forearms. Vincenzo, freed from his entrapment, takes a moment to relieve the cricks in his neck, then sits back against the headboard of the bed. Chayoung drapes the sheets over her shoulders and sits beside him.

“Back in Italy,” Vincenzo starts, after retrieving his lighter from his bedside, “There was this upperclassman at my high school. He was also Korean. He used to tutor me, in our school’s library, every Wednesday evening.”

Vincenzo clicks the lighter open and shut a couple of times.

“I realised I liked him and I had a crisis about it, like any fourteen-year-old would. I definitely detested that part of me for a good while. It wasn’t — isn’t something that was exactly… orthodox. And to a fourteen-year-old, no matter what you’ve seen, when you discover something for yourself, it’s always pretty monumental. So I… I tried to avoid him for a few weeks, but he found me each time, and he’d speak my mother tongue and cajole me into a better mood. He never asked what had me so down.”

Vincenzo closes the lighter and holds his thumb down.

“I thought of him day and night. The more I made myself avoid him, the more I’d think of meeting him, the more I met him, the more I’d want to see him again. It was like that. But that wasn’t why I really thought of him as my first love, I think. It was after he graduated, he gave me a present, a letter. He said he was proud of me. And then…”

“And then he left?”

Vincenzo looks at Chayoung with a reluctant smile. He nods.

“That’s when I knew I loved him. His absence hurt like my mother had abandoned me again.” Vincenzo swallows. “But you know how it is for fourteen-year-olds. I did forget him. I did forget that part of my identity as well. But I like to keep him in my memory. He was kind to me, I was so much more naive. It’s nice to remember him, because I can remember a different me. It’s somewhat a tribute to Park Joohyung, the boy I once was. Before my world changed forever.”

Vincenzo swallows into the silence once again. Chayoung sighs.

“I can’t compete with that.”

A laugh, punched out, but a laugh nonetheless. “This isn’t a competition.”

Chayoung sighs again, leans against his shoulder until her cheek is squished against it. “My first love was this boy who used to walk to the bus stop with me. He always had some kind of candy on him, and he always shared it with me.”

“How Pavlovian.” Vincenzo drily remarks.

“What did I say? Nothing that can compete with your sob story.”

Vincenzo scoffs lightly. “We won’t end up like that.”

“We won’t,” Chayoung agrees. “We’re old now.”

Vincenzo bends his head so that they’re eye to eye. “Your timing is horrible.”

“What? Were you going to confess your undying love to me or something?”

Vincenzo’s mouth hangs open in affront.

“You were,” Chayoung says, then covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my god, you were.”

“You ruined the moment,” Vincenzo curtly informs her. “Forget it.”

“You can’t do this to me —”

“I can,” He decides, and sits with his arms crossed and mouth sealed shut.

“Come on.”

“Byeonhosa-nim.”

“Vincenzo Cassano.”

“... Jagiya?”

That makes him look at her.

“I love you,” Chayoung seizes the opportunity. “Now say it back.”

Disgruntled cat that he is, it takes more than one try to get Vincenzo to say it back. But once he starts, he doesn’t stop.

#tvn vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong chayoung #chayenzo #chayenzo fic #vincenzo fic #bye bye balloon #whovie writes

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sooibian · 4 years ago

Text

Wherever You Are

Pairing: Kai x You as Lys ft. Baekhyun, Minseok, Yixing

Description: When you least expect it, love, quite literally, sweeps you off your feet

Themes: Romani AU, magical realism, romance, angst, drama ™ (i grew up on a healthy dose of Bollywood and it! shows!), secret relationship, heavily influenced by Mmmh Kai

Warnings: Blood, weapons, violence

Word Count: +9.5k (i’m sorry i haven’t had the time to proof-read this at all)

Tagging: @changshapatrol @rosetvler @bbyunz @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt @royal-aeris @bbhmystar @his-mochi-cheeks @littleflowercrown13

Part of the Steampunk Romani AU collab with @leewalberg @vampwrrr @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme

Pre-reading notes:

1. This is a spin-off for Lys from Star-Crossed but it can be read as a standalone oneshot. I’ve tried my best to translate the events of that fic into Lys’ POV but feel free to shoot me a message if something still confuses you.

2. Lys is a mind-reader, Baekhyun has the ability to influence physical objects with his mind, Yixing is a dragon and he’s the leader of the clan (Bulibasha), and Kai - as we all know - can teleport!!

3. Glossary: bulibasha - clan leader, dado - father, dya - mother, gadjo - someone of non-romani descent / origin, dragă - darling, iubirea mea - my love, lautari - a group of romani musicians, zakono - a key institution for enforcing the Romani Code.

“Dado, can I go along with Minseok?”

“Where to, dragă?”

“To the horse fair....the one in the village?”

“That’s no place for a pretty princess such as yourself -”

“But..but.. dado!”

“The camp has everything you’ll ever need, dragă.”

You woke up to the same old chirping of crickets, the same old crimson, black, and gold panels draping your tent, the same old wine stained goblet on your nightstand, the same old aroma of steamed xaimoko and hearty cornbread, and... the same old stinging in your heart.

Lips stretched into a habitual wide grin, you greeted the lass who brought you dinner with a drawn out “Morning”.

“It’s seven in the evening, Lys. You know how your father feels about you sleeping during sunset!” Vera exclaimed and gathered her skirts to sit on the edge of your bed, her gentle fingers combing through to untangle knots in her mistress’ long, dark hair.

Having mastered the art of repressing the emotions that threatened to colour your expression at the mere mention of your father, feigning excitement, you took her hand in yours and coyly quizzed her on the topic she was dying to discuss, “Tell me more about the whitesmith boy, Vera? Did he prove to be,” you cleared your throat and said in a hushed whisper, “worth his mettle?” and drew the question out with a roaring laughter.

“Hush, Lys!” Said Vera bashfully, biting on her lower lip to suppress the smile that was beginning to form on her mellow, innocent face. The whitesmith boy, better known as Kris, was the clan’s most eligible bachelor until yesterday.

Young girls, in pairs or trios, would hide behind the shrubbery by the river to catch a glimpse of him shirtless, bring him bent out of shape wares to fix and polish - even the ones whose weights their delicate hands couldn’t bear - and watch him at his job for hours at an end as sweat would drip down his neck, making his light, cotton shirt cling onto his well defined back.

As any young man his age would, Kris surely enjoyed the attention but he didn’t thrive on it. His heart belonged solely to his beloved. He settled for the most simple woman, some would say for the want of a better word, but you were convinced that none of them had experienced the sweetness that was love.

You had - but only vicariously. Love, trust, anticipation, joy - all vicariously. The only emotions you truly understood, first-hand, were longing, anger, and sadness.

“Lys?” A finger poking into your side broke you out of your reverie.

“Hmm?”

“I said, yes.”

“What for?” You asked, an innocent eyebrow raised in question.

She only giggled in response and darted out of your tent. Grinning wide, you turned to your meal and just then the aggressive tramp of horses’ hooves and sharp, piercing cries of pain and fear from men, women, and children reached your ears. Before you could make sense of the situation, your shell-shocked eyes followed Vera’s body as it fell inside your tent with a dull thud, an arrow pierced through her chest.

Your dinner tray toppled over as you ran to her aid and struggled with the bitter truth that you could do nothing to breathe life into the one person out of the very few that truly cared for you. With your hand on her teared stained cheek, you listened to her conscience ferociously chant, dya...dya...take care of dya!

“I will, Vera. I promise to take care of your mother.”

Only when she was reassured did Vera allow life to drain out of her eyes while tears started to line yours and grief clawed at your throat. You began to drag her limp body towards the bed and it wasn’t long before a familiar face barged into your tent. Throwing his crossbow to the side, your brother helped you hoist Vera’s body up onto your bed.

“What’s going on -”

“We’ve been attacked by a group of dacoits. Stay inside. Whatever happens, do not leave your tent! You understand me?” Minseok commanded, his dark eyes piercing yours while blood trickled down the side of his face.

“You’re hurt -”

He shook his head and repeated, panic betraying his voice, “Just... stay safe, Lys. Will you?”

Breaking down into sobs you nodded frantically as the ugly realisation of loss washed over you. Minseok pulled you into a tight embrace, praying fervently, “It could’ve been you. It could’ve been you instead of - of Vera! Thank God! Thank God, it wasn’t you!”

His every word felt like a punch in the gut.

He then marched out with his crossbow in hand, vengeance in his eyes and your heart clenched with fear for your brother’s life. Hiding behind the entrance panels, you watched the scene outside.

The settlement was barren except for the dacoits and a handful of men from the clan out on the field; the rest had scurried into the safe confines of their caravans and tents. Men on horseback, dressed in black robes, had their faces covered in black scarves. They spoke a different tongue but you understood that they sought revenge. A life for a life, they repeated over and over in broken Romani. They menacingly circled Baekhyun with arrows and daggers pointed to his heart. Baekhyun’s stance was alert with his jamdhar in his hand as a majestic black and gold dragon hovered over them, a tattered body dangling from his spine chilling, bloody mouth.

It happened within a matter of seconds - the dacoits lay slain - some with arrows pierced through their chests, some eviscerated into smithereens and the rest crumbled to black dust - the doing of Minseok, Baekhyun, and Yixing respectively.

With one flap of his massive wings, Yixing descended, gracefully landing on his human feet as a man-servant trotted to his aid with a black robe to cover his modesty yet, very little was left to imagination.

“They really thought -”

Before Yixing could complete his sentence, an unconscious Baekhyun collapsed - right in the centre of the bloody chaos. That jamdhar is going to be his undoing, you said to yourself. A girl with dark unruly hair rushed to his side - your fiancé’s side - the sight turning your limbs to ice.

Your heart sank to your stomach but the edges of your mouth curled up in a smile as you met her eyes from a distance with sheer contempt in your own.

A man you didn't recognise, supported by two others on either side, was being ushered into Yixing's private chamber.

You felt a hand against the small of your back. Minseok whispered into your ear, "Dado wants to see you."

***

In the centre of the room slouched a man on a wooden chair, his hands roped together at the back, face bruised and bloodied - evidently the doing of your own brother.

“What’s all this?” You asked the three men surrounding him.

“The bandits left their dog behind,” spat Yixing.

“So? What am I supposed to do?” You directed the question to your father.

“We need to know who he is, where he’s from, and...why we were attacked.” Replied your father, eyes forcefully trained on the unconscious man on the chair.

“You should’ve probably left him with some life in his body to answer your questions.” You said to Minseok indignantly.

“Lys!” Your father was prepared to reprimand you at your insolence in front of Bulibasha.

“Dado - ”

“Lys, just hold his hand and tell us what he’s thinking.” Minseok tried to lighten the tense atmosphere with his calm voice.

“I have better things to do than hold a gadjo’s hand and listen to the filth of his mind. I’ll leave you big and strong men to it.” You sauntered over to your father, the corner of your mouth raised in a smirk. Dusting the lint off of his magnificent black and red woollen cloak that was embroidered along the edges with the finest gold thread, you sang, “I’m nothing more than just a pretty princess, anway.”

“Lys, please!” Cried Minseok.

“What would you have me do, Minseok? Stay here with you all while my fiancé is canoodling with the Bladerunner by the pond?” You retorted.

Yixing shot you a puzzled glance while Minseok and your father averted their eyes.

"It’s known to be their usual hideout.” You half-shrugged at Yixing, your casual tone not doing much to ease the frown lines on his handsome face.

While you were busy squabbling with your family, the man on the chair lifted his head up, rope evidently cut loose with a push dagger, and immediately all four pairs of eyes turned to him. Underneath the caked blood and grime on his face, he flaunted golden skin, luscious lips, and sharp, distinct features. His eyes met yours and crinkled into crescents as his lips curved into a disrespectful smirk.

He gave you a casual two-finger salute goodbye and….vanished.

Breaking into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at the three men caught unawares, you turned on your heels and merrily skipped out of Yixing’s private chamber.

The next morning found you by the river, still trying to wrap your head around the events of yesterday. ‘Thank God it wasn’t you!’ Your brother’s gentle voice rang ominously in your ears. ‘But what if it was?’ you reasoned with yourself, ‘Would it have meant being finally free or trapped in a permanent state of oblivion?’ In tune with your mind, your feet wandered, taking you deeper into the viridian forest.

You stumbled upon something stock-still and landed on your back causing that something to stir and wince in pain as it slowly regained consciousness. You crawled as far away from it as you could only to recognize him by the pleated black cummerband around his waist. The gadjo struggled to hold himself up and flattened to the ground again.

His agony brought you some solace as Vera’s ashen face flashed before your eyes. Laughing, you exclaimed, "So this is how far you managed to get! A stone's throw from Bulibasha's tent."

The man winced again but a smile began to form on his lips. "Wa-water," he breathed but you leisurely rested your back against the trunk of a nearby tree and denied his request with a little shake of your head, “A life for a life, gadjo. Repay your debt. Your people killed my friend.”

“Not- not my doing,” he said throatily and began dragging himself towards the river. He was sculpted like the dancers of a lăutari - long and lean, elegantly broader along the shoulders and chest and enviably slim around the waist.

You offered him no help. Instead, waited with a bated breath for his soul to escape him. But his snail’s pace had started to exasperate you. So you begrudgingly volunteered to bring him water as his dying wish.

“Here you go, gadjo. Seeing the way my brother beat you up, a sip or two of water won’t be of much help, anyway.” You sneered, holding the edge of the cupped leaf to his bruised lips.

As he drank, colour slowly returned to his ghost-white, bloodied face. “Kai,” he said in a voice that was husky and deep.

“What?”

“It’s my name. You’d do well to remember it.” His face lit up with a smile and his eyes found your thick golden anklet bejeweled with iridescent beads. He flicked the bead trinkets with his finger and squeezed his eyes shut as if in admiration of a great symphony.

Before you could even make sense of the situation...of him...he vanished again.

Kai, you mouthed, curled up in bed at midnight.

“Kai,” you said the gadjo’s name out loud, the tips of your fingers tracing the movement of your lips and despite yourself, blood began to warm your face. It had been a week since you met him in the forest but the man had capsized your mind. You inwardly admonished yourself for not killing him when you had the chance - it was the least you could’ve done for Vera - but you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him.

You saw truth in his innocent yet compelling eyes.

A whirlpool of emotions rose in your chest as you tossed and turned in bed causing a bead of your anklet to tangle with a loose silk thread from your quilt. Groaning, you sat up to undo it, and heard a sudden, loud crack.

Kai had unexpectedly appeared, standing at the foot of your bed. Arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side, he smiled down at you.

Returning his smile, you said, “If I scream, there’ll be at least ten men here, in no time, with sharp objects pointed at your throat.”

Gaze intertwined with yours, Kai knelt before you as his deft fingers found the troublesome bead. Smirking, he slowly pushed the quilt out of the way, and you instinctively pulled your skirts down below your knees. His mouth found the loose thread and he bit on it to free you from the restraint as his warm breath fanned your ankle and his soft lips brushed ever so slightly against your skin. As delicate as the touch was, it felt like being imprinted with a blazing hot cast-iron.

“If you truly wanted me dead, you wouldn’t have saved my life. And I’m here to thank you for that,” he smiled, and took the bold step of sitting next to you, on your bed. He then clicked his tongue, fingers ghosting along the curve of your ankle, and piped cockily, “Besides, you know I’d vanish before your sluggish men even manage to get here.”

“You think you’re very brave, gadjo?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a fool for walking into the lioness’ den.”

His expression suddenly turned solemn. Studying your face intently, he whispered, “I’m sorry about your friend. I didn’t -”

“You didn’t what?” Your heart thumped wildly in your chest in a rather desperate anticipation of his innocence. So you immediately placed your clammy hand upon his trembling, cold one.

His voice grew thick with anguish as he explained, “I didn’t know those men were going to storm your clan. I’d only met them that morning. They said they were traveling south and I - I really had nowhere to go so I joined them without giving it much thought. I was desperate for company.”

His words were very much in line with his thoughts and memories. Images of the dacoits just as you’d seen them that evening, their boisterous banter, their journey towards the settlement, the food and wine and spoils they shared along the way, all flashed before your eyes.

You knew a liar when you saw one - their features were drawn out a bit differently, you’d believed. Baekhyun was a liar. He’d lied when you had asked him if he loved you. But Kai on the other hand…

“At the time you didn’t realize that they were plunderers?” You asked delicately.

“All I understood was that they weren’t men of strong character. But I didn’t care for their morality. I knew I could protect myself if worse came to worst.”

“Why didn’t you simply run...vanish when they besieged my clan?” As hard as you tried, you failed to keep the edge off of your voice.

The pitch of Kai’s voice rose as he continued to explain, “I grew numb...my hands and legs and...mind...I’ve seen war and suffering and I didn’t expect to cross paths with tragedy again so soon. So I - nobody noticed this at the time because of the chaos - but I fought on your side. I tried to save as many as I could.”

You contemplated on his words for a moment without realizing that his fingers were now laced with yours.

“- when my brother found you, you just -”

“I thought I - ,” his voice dropped and lower lip quivered slightly, “ - deserved the punishment.”

Fighting back your tears, you asked, “Why didn’t you explain this to them?”

“Did you see the look on your brother’s face? And the dragon’s? He was breathing fire even in his human form. They were ready to bring me to justice for the crimes I didn’t commit.”

You gave Kai a quick once-over. His face still bore bruises from the beating but his clothes were impeccable. Rich, even. He was dressed in a blue cashmere smock, red velvet pants, and his fingernails were coated in a deep teal. He wore a beaded bracelet on his right wrist that sparkled in the dim lighting of your tent - as did the platinum ring laced with exquisite tiny diamonds on his right hand index finger.

Had the dacoits looted him, they would’ve comfortably lived on the gains from the ring alone for a good part of the year. What was the need for them to tread such a great distance to loot your clan, you wondered.

Yet again, you grew wary of the man before you.

“Why are you telling me all this?” You asked.

“Because I don’t want you to resent me for the death of your friend.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you asked defensively, “Why do you care what I think, gadjo?”

“Kai,” he corrected you and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, he disappeared again.

The scattered morning light filtered through the thicket and descended in brilliant pearls in the unshackled stream of water amidst the medley of the trinkets on your anklet, the ballads of songbirds, and gushing water hitting rubbled mass as you tiptoed deeper into the forest.

A firm grasp balanced you by your arm as you hopped over rocks to cross the stream.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re tailing me, gadjo.” You teased him.

“Here,” he thrust some peeled almonds in your hand as soon as you got to the other side. Smiling, he said, “eat up. These extraordinary tiny things will help with your poor memory.”

He walked ahead of you, guiding, as you both slipped further into the capricious forest.

“You leave only to come crawling back so soon, Kai?” Although you uttered his name almost derisively, you felt heat rising up your cheeks as it fell from your lips.

“You see? The almonds help.” He stated matter-of-factly.

You merely scoffed in response.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” He asked, retaining a casual tone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you bombarded him with your well thought out mental list of questions in response. The questions that had plagued your mind since your very first encounter with him.

“Where are you from, gadjo? Don’t you have a home? A... girl waiting for you?” You deliberately held on to his arm on the pretext of steadying yourself ...and his mind drew a blank.

I can’t remember anything before you.

You were about to say something more but then stopped short, retreating until your back hit the trunk of a tree. He followed and halted only at a hair breadth’s distance from you, towering over, as sunlight danced on his skin.

He breathed, “You tell me. Do I?”

“Hmm?” Brows quirked, you stared right back into his eyes as his head continued to lower slowly and you, despite yourself, started going up on the tip of your toes, his hand around your waist holding you steady.

“Do I have a girl,” he whispered, his index finger lifting your chin up, his warm breath tickling your face and his lips ghosting over yours, “waiting for me?”

Your eyelids drooped almost instinctively as the back of his fingers gently caressed the side of your face.

“Kai -”

He chuckled, swiftly scooping you up in his arms. You felt your whole body squint and your ears popped rather painfully. It wasn’t long before Kai’s feet found firm ground in a meadow full of beautiful plume thistles while you stayed burying your face in the crook of his neck, eyes firmly squeezed shut.

He gently put you down but your legs gave out. Feeling squeamish, you berated him, “Warn me the next time, yes?”

He pulled you in a tight embrace, panic betraying his voice, he asked, “Are- are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize!”

“How do you survive this at all? It’s- it feels terrible! I feel horribly queasy and my spine is trying to claw its way out of my back!” You argued aimlessly.

“One gets used to it.” He said softly as you lay on your back and he lied down next to you.

“Where are we?”

“We’re very close to Cluj-Napoca. Prince Jongin’s would-have-been kingdom.” His vague and casual tone was starting to vex you a little.

“Prince Jongin?” You enquired rather haughtily.

He answered, “Yours truly,” and bent his neck down in a bow.

“You - you’re a prince?”

He turned to face you and you excitedly followed suit. Tracing your jawline with his finger he whispered, “Not anymore. I mean - forget it, it’s a long story.” He sighed and turned his face to the clear blue skies again.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you urged him to continue, “I have all the time in the world.”

He took a moment to contemplate on your words and then his own before indulging you with a wistful smile on his face, “I turned out to be someone..something nobody expected out of me. More capable than the rightful heir, more popular with the people, more popular within the court, and more popular with the King himself.”

“Hmm...I’ll need a little more than that.”

Kai chuckled, his eyes crinkling into half moons again. “Three months ago, Cluj-Napoca was attacked by the Kingdom of Bucharest. My father - the King - was recovering from an affliction of the nerves at the time. Although I am not much of a fighter myself...well, I wasn’t trained to be one but what I lack in strength, I make up for in agility.. I led the army into battle and we managed to protect our territorial integrity and independence.”

Kai had been continuously fidgeting with the lace on his black tunic while narrating the story of his bravado, leaving you utterly astonished at the duplexity of his personality.

“So what went wrong?” You asked, studying him closely.

“The thing is I am not the King’s legitimate son,” he laughed and continued the story in a slightly higher pitch as if imitating someone, “I was born out of love, says my mother. I’m the son of a concubine.”

“But, if after everything, the King was in your favour then why did you leave?”

“He was toying with the idea of making my half-brother renounce his title. So before matters could get any worse for her son, the Queen asked me to ‘disappear into the night’ as compensation for not driving me to the streets when I was a mere boy.”

Aghast, you enquired, “So you just left?”

He simply shrugged and replied, “I am not built for a life of frivolity and merely keeping up appearances.”

“But what of your mother?”

“She’s not built for a life otherwise than of frivolity and keeping up appearances. Besides, she’s been offered an elevated position within the court by the Queen after my disappearance and she intends on keeping it. And as for my father...well, he thinks I’m a traitor who abandoned his own people. That’s why on the day that your clan was raided...I couldn’t think straight. The war with Bucharest has clearly taken a heavy toll on me...suffering of others is far beyond the level of my tolerance.”

“But what about your subjects? Tell me, how are you so casual about this?”

“You’re the daughter of the richest man in the clan. Why do you want to leave?”

“It’s not the same. Also, how do you know what I want? And- and don’t answer a question with a question. It’s annoying.”

He huddled closer to you and bragged, “It’s all in your eyes.”

“Enough, gadjo, this is not about me.” Your face flamed and your stomach was in knots in anticipation of his answer.

He let out a heavy sigh and replied, “Life is an adventure that is best lived boldly. I can go wherever I want, whenever I like. Why should someone like me bear the stifling burden of a crown when I can be...free.”

True to his character, Kai yet again appeared out of nowhere, took the heavy jute tote out of your hand and asked, “Don’t you have a handmaiden for these things?”

He was dressed entirely in black - dress shirt tucked into fitted trousers - and his face was covered with a sequined veil mask, leaving only his alluring eyes exposed. To say that you were not used to his abrupt appearances would be a gross understatement.

“I’m picking up some specific things for Vera’s mother...also, we’re in the middle of a bazaar, gadjo! You’re growing bolder by the day.”

“Lys, did you forget to take your almonds this morning?”

You scorned, “Do you have a death wish? If my brother sees you here... or the dragon... or..”

“Your precious fiancé?” He teased. “The one who’s..what was it again? Yes, the one who’s busy canoodling with the Bladerunner by the pond?”

Suppressing a grin, you gave him the side-eye and asked, “So you’re different, then? Better than Baekhyun?”

“Vastly! Tremendously! Immensely! Extremely!”

Shaking your head, you shot him an offhanded remark, “I don’t believe you.”

He immediately grabbed you by your wrist and dragged you inside what seemed like a dingy storage room for grains and pulses. Setting the bag down on the floor, he looked you in the eyes and roughly placed your hand on his chest.

”Don’t you think I’m different? Don’t you believe that I’m better? Don’t you understand I can make you happy? Truly happy?” He asked, his heart pulsing against your fingertips.

The overwhelming words you want to say...talk to me comfortably...I’ll listen to you...loosen the boundaries...I’m like you, too.

Eyes glistening, he pleaded, “Fly away with me.”

“No.” You stated plainly while your head and heart hammered wildly at the words he so bravely uttered and the ones he didn’t.

Brows knit together, his face scrunched in comprehension of your answer. “Why not?”

“It makes me squeamish.” You shrugged.

“Stop being funny.”

“You’re being funny. Whatever happened to you wanting to be free?”

“I don’t understand.”

Arms defensively crossed over your chest, you looked away from him and muttered, “You know what I mean -”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I didn’t mean I wanted to be free from you!” Kai’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he continued to argue, “Please don’t tell me you’re in love with the idiot you’re engaged to.”

“Of course not! It was just an arrangement to keep his loyalties with the family.”

“Then what is it?” He asked in his softest voice.

“I can hear the words you don't say, gadjo.” You bellowed, nearly throwing him back.

He shushed you before asking in a whisper, “So?”

“Isn’t it terrifying?” You struggled to keep your voice low at his very tempting yet terrifying proposition.

“On the contrary, in fact. I’ve never been good at putting my feelings into words. I say the things I don’t mean and freeze when I’m expected to say something. I’m easily misunderstood, Lys.”

“But everyone has secrets that they’d like to keep...secret. And from where I stand, you’re a man of too many secrets, gadjo.”

“And you’re the woman capable of unveiling them all. Look, I have nothing to hide and I don’t even want to keep anything from you. The rest,” he gulped hard before continuing, “is up to you. Think about it, would you rather be trapped in a loveless marriage? You’re the bravest woman I know, Lys. Don’t try to run away from truth.”

Ever since you’d met Kai, he was all you could think of. With him you felt safe and happy - the two emotions that had eluded you for the longest time. You wouldn’t dare to admit this to yourself but as frightening as it was, you also felt loved. All these years caught in an airless vortex, you felt like you could finally breathe - finally someone wanted you for who you were and not what you pretended to be - but something was still holding you back.

***

Kai’s words kept you up all night.

Eloping with him was a solution to all of your problems but it meant bringing shame to your family. You knew for a fact that you’d never be happy at the cost of their happiness. Sleep and answers eluding you, you scraped your hair up in a bun and threw a shawl over your shoulders to go see your father.

The fragrance of sandalwood mixed with liquor pervaded the air as you knelt beside his sleeping form. Age had started to prominently line his skin yet he looked a lot youthful without a scowl painted across his features. You planted a soft kiss on his forehead and the back of his hand, perennially struggling with your feelings towards him. He was your father, after all, and you couldn’t say that he never loved you. You only wished that he tried to understand you better.

“Dado,” you whispered against his hand, “I love you.” and broke down, sobbing quietly.

Suddenly, his disturbing thoughts came unravelled to you, filling you with unbridled rage and fear.

Fear for Kai’s life.

“You ice-veined monster...” You whispered against his hand before storming out of the tent.

“We have to stop seeing each other, gadjo.” Avoiding Kai’s eyes, you broke it to him as coolly as you could, caging a maelstrom of emotions within you.

“Would you stop calling me that? It’s cold and impersonal.” He took your hand in his as you both continued to trod lightly into the forest.

“And you’d like me to be warm...and personal..with a gadjo.. Because?”

Hurt flashed in his eyes at your remark but at this point you wanted nothing more than to save his life. When you grew to be so protective of Kai, you couldn’t tell but you knew you would do anything to save him from your vicious father. And to be able to do that, you needed him gone for good.

“Because I’m not just anyone. I am...” Breathing heavily, he pinned you to a tree.

Yours, roared his conscience. Unambiguously.

A welcome warmth seeped into your veins but you maintained a stoic demeanour. If he could hear your thoughts he’d take you away...far, far away from this stockade you called home. Tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back, spilled from your eyes as he lowered his mouth to meet yours in a deep kiss.

“We can’t be together, Kai.” Breaking the kiss, you pushed him away and sank to the ground, weeping.

Despite your protests, he carried you in his arms. Smiling, he nodded to gain your attention and trust before yelling, “Three…,” You engaged your core at “Two” and at “One” you felt a familiar uncomfortable knot in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s dark here.” You remarked, while still in the protective comfort of his arms.

“It’s night time in this part of the world, dragă.” He explained putting you down on your feet.

“Oh..you just called me -”

“I’ve been learning your tongue, iubirea mea.”

You were grateful for the darkness as it concealed just how smitten you were. Swiftly changing the subject, you asked, “Where are we?”

“Somewhere far, far away,” said Kai and you heard the smile in his voice, “at the edge of a crater of a volcano. But not to worry, it’s an inactive one.”

“How boring!” You teased, as he carefully sat you down.

A blanket of stars glimmered above as you and Kai cuddled closer to each other, enveloped in a cool breeze.

“Lys,” Kai’s eyes shone brighter than the stars as he turned to face you, “whatever it is, you can tell me. We’ll work it out. My father once said that there is no problem so complex, nor crisis so grave that cannot be satisfactorily resolved within twenty minutes. And twenty minutes is all we have. Right?”

“I have to be back in time for -”

“For lunch, yes.”

“Let me tell you a story,” you said, and Kai lay down, resting his head in your lap.

“Go on,” he urged you, the tip of his index finger meeting your nose in a little pat.

With your hand on his forehead, you narrated, “There was once a couple who married for love, much against the wishes of the Elders of their village. Because of this, the newlyweds were driven out. They wandered for weeks without food and water, travelling far and wide, seeking shelter...and acceptance. One day they found,” you swallowed hard and Kai’s expression turned solemn. He gently caressed your face with his fingers, calming you down to help you continue, “they found us. Our clan, I mean and my father was Clan Leader at the time. The woman had grown fragile and sick and was in an urgent need of care but my father denied them shelter. ‘They’ve been expelled for a good reason,’ he maintained. He lacked the basic human decency to even offer them some food for sustenance. They camped outside the settlement, pleading with anyone and everyone who crossed paths with them...until...until the woman could take it no longer. She died in her sleep and the man vowed to annihilate all those who were responsible for her death - our clan included. The leader of the dacoits who brought you to the clan that day is the man in the story, Kai.”

Brows furrowed, Kai opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“My father - he - he recognized the man the day they stormed our settlement. And after everything, when he found you, it was like he’d struck gold. He was all set to incriminate you because our clan won’t rest until someone’s been punished. But truly - it’s all his fault. Had he not denied them refuge, the man wouldn’t have harboured resentment against us. Now he knows about us. He knows that you come to see me...he’s been keeping a close eye on us to be able to capture you at the right time. It won’t be long before he succeeds, Kai. So you must- I mean, we can’t -,” you huffed, “after all, I’m engaged to be married. Minseok and Yixing are going to pay Baekhyun a visit tomorrow to fix a date for the wedding.”

Biting on his lower lip, Kai contemplated on your words for a while before speaking again. “Seventeen minutes. I have a plan. Do you trust me?” He looked at you with mischief twinking in his deep, dark eyes and a smile teasing the edges of his lips. You replied with a hesitant nod.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” You said.

“Anything,” Kai said with a smile. He closed his eyes and placing your hand on his chest.

“You can be anywhere, everywhere and with anyone, yet-”

“Yet?”

“You know what I mean,” your voice trailed off.

“I can be anywhere and everywhere,” said Kai, cupping your face in his hands, “but I want to be by your side. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Don’t you see why it makes me upset when you say that we can’t see each other anymore? Don’t you see the irony? You can’t tell me that I can ‘port anywhere, except where I actually want to be. I love you, Lys.”

Looking straight into his eyes you said softly, “Love is a strong word.”

Brows quirked, he enquired, “Does it scare you?”

Your eyes glistened with tears as you responded, “As selfish as it may sound, I don’t want to bring dishonour to my family.”

“You won’t. I promise.”

“But what if your plan fails?”

“It won’t. And if at all it does, I’ll make sure you’re safe and sound. As for me, it’d be an honour to die for love.”

He loosened your fist open and placed a small china jar in your palm. You opened to find almonds in it. He grinned wide, and said, “Fresh ones.. in case you’d run out.”

If you loved Baekhyun you would’ve, without a doubt, stabbed the woman with the same knife that she sat polishing.

For the longest time you’d tried to hate her for being the object of your fiancé’s affections, admire her for her bravery, admonish her for her recklessness for if anyone were to ever find out… but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything for or against her.

Pivoting your attention to Kai’s best laid plan, chin up and voice firm, you said to her, “Show me your best blade.”

“What do you need it for?” She asked nonchalantly, entirely focused on the task at hand. Sure you’d grown softer since you’d met Kai but for her to not acknowledge a former Clan Leader’s presence fueled your anger.

You walked over to her and rested your hands on her shoulders, squeezing a little too harshly than you’d intended to. You wished she were thinking about anything other than Baekhyun but you weren’t surprised to find that she wasn’t.

“Lys!” She exclaimed, almost falling out of the little worn out wooden stool. She met your eyes, albeit with great difficulty.

Deliberately curling your lips into your best feature - a sinister smile, you whispered in her ear, “One that is good enough for carving a man’s heart out of his chest,” before tossing a piece of silver in her direction and strutting out with a navaja, a fighting knife.

***

“Do you have it?”

Kai appeared in your tent as you sat leisurely, snacking on peeled almonds.

“Solve a mystery for me. How do you always find me because I’ve never seen you wander in through the entrance panels. You just pop up out of nowhere.”

“We have an important task at hand.” He said, sitting down next to you, bearing the mannerism of an army general.

“No, I need to know. Now.”

Kai groaned at your unpredictable temperament and slapped his thighs.

“Alright, if you must know,” he said in a seductively low voice, leering at you as his nimble fingers drew circles along your foot. He slowly drew your skirts up with his other hand and you immediately smacked it down in protest.

“Fine,” he chimed. Letting out a sigh, he tugged at your anklet, “The sound of this has been burned into my memory. It’s how I find you everytime.”

“How very romantic. What if I were to take it off?” You asked playfully.

He tilted his head to the side, a hint of annoyance on his face. Firmly, he said, “Please, don’t.”

“Alright, alright!” You exclaimed at the sudden shift in his mood. “So what’s next?” You asked.

He removed an unassuming little vial from the pocket of his buckskin waistcoat and said, “This.”

You recognized the design of the vial - the opaque green glass bottle and its mouth closed with a black cork, “A spell?”

“The dragon’s wife is too trusting!” He exclaimed cockily.

“You went to see Bulibasha’s wife -”

“Assuming a disguise, of course!”

“Are you insane?!”

“Does it come as a surprise?”

“What did you tell her?!”

“I told her that this spell is the only way I can be with the one I love. And I wasn’t lying.”

“You really have a death wish, gadjo!”

“Kai!”

It took you a little while to calculate the risks of his audacity. Gaping at him, you finally spoke again, “Tell me what’s next. I have the blade.”

“Excellent.” He held the bottle up to your eye level and explained, “I’m going to sprinkle this on the Bladerunner when she’s on her way back home in the evening and her worst fears will come alive and start gnawing at her. And what do you think is her worst fear?”

“Losing Baekhyun.” You answered in a haughty disdain.

Kai chuckled. “Perfect. You said your brother and the dragon are going to visit your pretty little fiancé tonight? This spell will get the better of the Bladerunner and against her best judgement, she’s bound to go to see Baekhyun around the same time. The two men already have their suspicions about her and to catch her visiting Baekhyun at an ungodly hour will only reinforce their worst fears and this time they’ll not be able to wriggle out of it. Baekhyun and the Bladerunner will definitely be called into the dragon’s spine-chilling, morbid private chamber after that and a decision will be made.”

“What does that mean for us?” You asked, adrenaline making your blood quicken.

“Leave that to me. All you have to do is be there before they pronounce a decision and request a private audience with the dragon and your brother. And remember to,” he grabbed the navaja from your nightstand, its cutting edge reflecting the glint in Kai’s eyes. The corners of his mouth curled up, he quipped innocently, “use this well.”

The day unfolded exactly the way Kai had predicted.

Baekhyun and the Bladerunner had been called into Yixing’s private chamber at dawn. It was too early for the clan to start it’s day so you waited outside the tent just as Kai had instructed, listening closely for the right time to make an entrance. A loud and intense argument ensued between Minseok, Yixing, and Baekhyun - the three men who might as well be sworn brothers.

If you’d never met Kai, you would’ve thought that Baekhyun was being dramatic - fighting tooth and nail to save himself from heartbreak. It was a little selfish, you thought. Hearts mend, your father said to you when you had begged him not to put down your pet goat when she’d injured herself.

“But not without leaving a deep scar,” you muttered to yourself before barging into Bulibasha’s private chamber.

Seeing your father’s arrogant portrait next to the dragon’s in Yixing’s private chamber bolstered your bitterness towards him. Without another thought, you struck the portrait in its right eye with the navaja. That wasn’t what the knife was intended for but it was akin to killing two birds with one stone. As it went flying towards the portrait, it nicked the Bladerunner’s ear since she heroically pushed her lover out of harm’s way.

“Lys! You’ve ruined Father’s portrait!” Your dutiful big brother lambasted you.

Having dressed for the occasion in a red, black, and gold robes, and lips painted in a delicious scarlet, you walked with a deliberate swing in your hips, your dark, waist length hair emulating the movement. You allowed your fingernails to brush the Bladerunner’s arm as you sauntered over for the navaja under eagle-eyed stares.

With the knife in your hand, you came and stood before the Bladerunner, placed a hand on her cheek and whispered, “You have beautiful skin, Bladerunner. I’d hate to ruin it,” as you ran the edge of the navaja along her neck, pressing it just enough to leave her with a superficial cut. You were sure Baekhyun was bound to overreact, and he did.

He pulled you out of the way, standing like a barrier between the woman he loved and the one he tolerated. His firm grasp around your wrist was starting to hurt you but you maintained an unwavering demeanour. Your eyes landed on Baekhyun’s exposed sternum. It had been a while since you saw him without the basil necklace. The necklace was a testament of the promise you made to love and cherish each other forever but it was obviously no more than an accessory to him.

“Hand it over. It never looked good on you, anyway.” You whispered and extended your hand toward him. Without a word, he slapped the necklace into your palm. Your heart hammered widely against your ribs because things were going exactly the way they were supposed to but in your experience it was never a good sign.

You knew what Baekhyun was going to do next. The look in your eyes taunted and teased him until he finally snapped. Baekhyun grabbed the dagger from your hand amidst loud gasps from everyone present.

He’d done it.

One prevalent belief still held by the clan was that taking a knife straight from someone’s hand meant that the relationship between the giver and the recipient had been severed.

Baekhyun had finally severed his relationship with you. Despite the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, you smiled inwardly at Kai’s genius.

“Baekhyun! What have you done?” Yixing’s voice thundered, echoing loudly in everyone’s ears but the enormity of his action was clearly lost on the Baekhyun. He continued to plead, “If the Bladerunner is to be punished, Bulibasha, I deserve a harsher punishment. I don’t care what the Zakono says. You can’t go on acting like she was alone in this!”

Minseok seemed firmly rooted to his place as he shot daggers at Baekhyun, his cat-like eyes disapproving Baekhyun’s out-of-character rebelliousness.

Now’s the time, you thought to yourself before being the one to break the uncomfortable silence. “He seeks her when he’s upset. And even when he’s not.” You turned to bow before Yixing and appealed, “Bulibasha, I would like to request a private audience.”

***

An exhausted Yixing slumped to the floor with his back against his spectacular dragon portrait. Face buried in hands, he groaned, “You young people really know how to complicate matters.”

“I agree,” Minseok joined in the whining while pouring wine into three goblets.

“Yixing, you have to stop acting like we have decades between us. And Minseok, put that down! It’s too early in the day for wine! Tell me what you’d rather have me do. He’s been in love with the Bladerunner forever.” You tried reasoning with them but Minseok only shook his head indignantly at your words.

“Baekhyun can’t do this to us after everything our family’s done for him. We took him in, fed him, clothed him. This is not how he repays us!” Minseok exclaimed.

You couldn’t help but draw parallels between Kai and Baekhyun’s journey so far. While they didn’t have a lot in common, one thing was for sure. They’d forever been treated like outsiders in their own homes.

“Bulibasha -” You turned to plead with Yixing.

“This is a nice switch from Yixing for when you want to reprimand me to Bulibasha for when you need something from me.” Chastised Yixing, tilting his head to the side, expression blank.

Eyes downcast, you mumbled, “I don’t want to go ahead with the wedding.”

“The Lys I know would want revenge. The Lys I know would’ve asked for his head on a spike. And hers, too!” Yixing exclaimed.

“I’m just not the same Lys anymore. The both of you really need to stop trying to control everything and everyone around you. Minseok, you know we have better fighters now and we don’t really need Baekhyun anymore. And you can’t use me to keep him by your side forever. Besides,” you got up to fetch a goblet of wine for yourself, “forgive me but… i need some liquid courage before I -”

“Please don’t tell me you’re serious about the gadjo.” Minseok muttered nonchalantly, with blatant disregard for the surprise his statement had taken you with.

Steadying yourself by tightly gripping the goblet, you asked, “You know about him?!”

“Of course, I do!” Minseok exclaimed, “I mean, we do, Yixing and I both. You thought you’d disappear randomly and nobody would ever find out? The gadjo even procured a spell from the Clan Leader’s wife! It was foolish, if you ask me.”

You offered no further explanation and said instead, “Kai. It’s his name. You’d do well to remember.”

Fuming, Yixing bellowed, “Have you no shame, Lys? His people stormed our clan. We lost no fewer than eight lives that day! You lost Vera! Have you forgotten already?”

With no care in the world, you started to defend Kai, “I haven’t forgotten and I never will. But the monsters who raided us weren’t his people. He was just as surprised by it as we were. Whatever happened is Dado’s fault.”

It was Minseok’s turn to rebuke you, “Lys, I know you love to blame him for everything but this is a serious matter. You’re taking things too far.”

“No, Minseok, it honestly is!”

Minseok and Yixing listened carefully as you revealed to them the secrets your father had been harbouring and how it was his ruse to pin the blame of the raid on Kai. Neither of them spoke for quite some time, trying to assimilate the information you’d just shared with them.

“Lys,” said Yixing calmly, as Minseok sat with his hand over his head, “even if what you say is true, you know the Zakono does not permit you to marry a gadjo.”

“Bulibasha, say that I was snatched...taken...it’s better than saying that I ran away. I can’t bear to be here any longer.” You walked over to where your brother sat, shaken and furious. You took his hands in yours, looked into his eyes and cried, “Minseok, someone like me is not meant to be confined… I want to be out in the world, moving constantly, exploring, unearthing its marvels and wonders, its deepest ...the most well kept secrets, just- just living. I am begging you to let me live!”

“Lys, that’s enough!” Interrupted a new voice, bringing you a sudden surge of relief.

You turned around to find Kai in light-toned pink fitted trousers and a broad cummerbund around his slim waist that accentuated the elegant lines of his body. A relaxed chiffon and lace tunic in the same pale pink shade with flared sleeves that closed around his wrists was tucked into the cummerbund and his ebony hair fell in silken locks over his forehead.

He took confident strides towards Yixing, and stated with a sense of surety in his eyes, “If we wanted, we could’ve disappeared without a trace.”

“Get out, gadjo,” said Minseok in a dangerously low voice, “nobody needs you here.”

“The woman I love does,” answered Kai coldly, “so I will stay until she asks me to leave.”

Anger igniting his momentum, Minseok lunged forward and punched Kai in the chest with all the strength he could muster causing Kai to stumble several feet back.

“Look at him!” Spat Minseok as you rushed to Kai’s aid while he struggled to gain his bearings. “What a weakling! I cannot trust him to protect my little sister.”

Regaining your composure, you said to your brother in a threateningly calm voice, “Minseok...don’t make me say it.”

Minseok turned to you, face scarlet and eyes bloodshot. He demanded, “What is left to be said, Lys?”

Brows furrowed you looked him in the eyes as your heart threatened to leap out of your chest. “Father doesn’t have a lot of years left and... you know how bad it’ll be if word got out we were raided because of his misdeeds...the wrong decisions he made as Clan Leader.”

Minseok laughed darkly and shot you a disgusted look. “You’re right, Lys. You’re clearly not a child anymore. But what would you rather have me do, huh? Disrespect the Zakono? Give you away to a man who abandoned his own people? One who doesn’t have a place to call home?”

“Minseok, that’s enough,” commanded Yixing, causing Minseok to stop at once. Hands on hips, he continued, “Everyone has the right to choose their own destiny. And I’m sure you understand this better than I do, you can’t expect our headstrong Lys to change her mind easily especially when it’s set on something. We’ll let you have your way, Lys. But -” Yixing’s scrutinizing gaze met Kai’s kind eyes.

Yixing reached for the leather coffer which sat in an inconspicuous corner of the tent. You’d been to the private chamber multiple times for various reasons before but you’d never noticed the coffer. He crouched over it, rummaging for something specific. It was a few minutes before he rose to his full height again, a talisman in his hand, his face saying nothing in particular.

He split the talisman in two, fastened one half of it to a black thread and quietly tied it around your neck and gave the other piece to Minseok. The talisman was similar to the one he wore around his wrist. It was very much like a jade stone, flickering in various shades of green as if alive and breathing.

“The talisman will tell us where you are - at all times. It’ll turn red to signal us when you’re in mortal danger. If that is to ever happen, no matter where you are, you know I’ll find to you in no time. And when the light goes out - ” before the mood could turn somber, Yixing continued with a voice heavily laced with pride, “Don’t ever think about taking the talisman off. Well, the truth is, you couldn’t even if you tried. This thread has been strengthened by a number of powerful charms and spells..fashioned by my own wife.”

You responded only with an understanding nod, the realization that you were finally going to have it your way had not sunk in yet. Yixing and Kai shared a look before Kai walked over to him with a grave expression on his face. Yixing drew a dagger out the bandoleer strapped around his thigh and Kai placed his hand on the teakwood desk in the room.

“Make it quick, Bulibasha,” said Kai.

“What’s going on?” You whispered into Minseok’s ear.

Minseok sighed before responding in a clipped tone, “Proof that we fought for you when the gadjo was taking you away as revenge for the death of his dacoit friends. But the gadjo just.. vanished with you and all we managed to get was -”

Your conversation was interrupted by Kai’s muffled cry of pain as he collapsed at Yixing’s feet.

“- a little finger.”

In a state of blind panic, you rushed to be by Kai’s side, struggling to form words. You were aware that Yixing wouldn’t let you go without proof of Kai’s commitment towards you but you never imagined it would come to this.

“Take this,” Yixing held the mouth of a vial to Kai’s lips as he grappled with consciousness. Kai hurriedly gulped down the milk of the poppy which knocked him out almost immediately. While he was asleep, Yixing called for his woman to clean and bandage him.

***

You spent that time sitting next to a sulking Minseok.

Setting aside his pride, Minseok finally asked, “Will you atleast come visit?”

You rested your head on your brother’s shoulder and he instinctively huddled closer to pat it affectionately. “Every full moon, I promise,” you replied softly as a silent tear rolled down your cheek.

He pulled out a heavy drawstring pouch from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to you saying, “Keep this.”

You shook the purse in your hand until the coins jingled and then reprimanded Minseok, “Kai’s father is King for god’s sake! He can take care of me.”

“But I still want you to have it. I had so many dreams.. the wedding I’d planned for you..” said Minseok as tears sparkled like diamonds in his eyes, “please...keep it.”

You pulled your brother into a tight hug and sobbed, “Take care of yourself, always.”

“You’re a fine one to talk...eloping with a gadjo. Can’t say that I didn’t see this coming. Unconventional to the end, Lys.” He twisted your ear playfully while crying and laughing simultaneously.

“Let those idiots get married, Minseok, and set the fool who broke my heart free.”

“Lys -”

Pouting, you asked, “Won’t you do it for your darling sister?”

“Fine!” Minseok agreed begrudgingly, “Anything else, your highness?”

“Take care of Vera’s mother.”

“You know I already do,” said Minseok, flicking your forehead. “Promise me you’ll come visit? And you’ll always, always take care of yourself?”

You took Minseok’s hand in yours and pressed your lips to his knuckles, as his heart continued to weep.

***

It was nearly noon when Kai finally awoke.

You stood up as he walked over to you with a marked confidence in his demeanour like his little finger wasn’t carved out of his body just a few hours ago. He wrapped his arms around your waist, while Yixing and Minseok watched uncomfortably, and rested his forehead against yours.

With your hand on his chest you asked Kai, “Are you alright?”

“Never been better. You look like a bride, iubirea mea,” he said, holding you closer, tighter as his hands travelled the length of your back.

“Shall we?” He asked, lowering his head to press his lips against yours. He deepened the kiss and you responded with equal fervour as he lifted you off your feet, twirling you in his arms until you felt a familiar, intense drop in your stomach, one you’d soon have to get used to.

‘Cause I’m too wicked I want to take all of your heart Don’t you worry So soon, you have my world

You make me feel so Mm-mhm..

**********************

hello @diveinthebluewithyou this one’s for you...welcome to Romaniverse!! hope you enjoy <3

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pressedinthepages · 4 years ago

Text

Breeze

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Rating: T

Masterlist

a/n: reader request: [Hello! I read that you would like to write something other than x reader from time to time, so I have a (hopefully cute 😳) Geraskier-request for you: Geralt saving money and surprising Jaskier with buying him his own horse. And Jaskier is deeply moved by that action (maybe he's crying) and Geralt just laughs and gives him cuddles/kisses him. 😌] awe dumb softe bois

also thanks to @sometimesiwrite for being a wonderful beta :)

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: mild language, ~yearning~, geralt has to use his voice to communicate

Two idiots and a horse get another horse.

“Geraaaalt. Why aren’t we staying at the inn? I can literally see it from here, the soft bed and the warm bath beckoning to me through the dark. ‘Come to me, Jaskier,’ it’s saying, Geralt. It’s not like we’re strapped for coin, either. The alderman actually paid you pretty well for that bear ghost-”

“Barghest.”

“Yes, yes, exactly. But back to my earlier line of inquiry. I ask again, why in the shit are we staying out in the middle of the woods for what feels like the thousandth night in a row?”

Geralt sighs, staring up at the stars on the clear night. “I’m trying to save my coin.”

Jaskier scoffs, drawing a raise of the brow from the Witcher. “For what, pray tell?”

“New armor.”

“Oh, so the Witcher can get new armor every other week and it’s fine, but when I go and buy a new outfit for a performance, it’s a ‘waste of coin, Jaskier?’”

` Geralt hums with finality, listening as Jaskier just continues prattling on. There’s no real heat behind it though, and Geralt does feel bad making Jaskier rough it out here with him. But he knows that if he lets the bard wander into town on his own, Geralt will end up having a much larger and more annoying mess to clean up.

“Jaskier,” Geralt hums, listening as he stops his ranting. “Come get some sleep, I’d like to get down to Blackbough by the new moon.”

Jaskier huffs in response before he undoes the little buttons down the front of his doublet. He shucks it off of his shoulders and drapes it over a log on the ground, rolling up the sleeves on his chemise up to his elbow. Geralt tries quite desperately not to watch, but his eyes are drawn to every new inch of skin revealed under the low light of the embers.

Jaskier’s bedroll flaps loudly as he sets it between Geralt and the fire. He plops down onto it, stretching out and turning to face Geralt. The Witcher peers over at him, admiring quietly the way that the last few sparks of light dance over the high planes of his cheeks.

“Ah, Geralt. Another day, put to rest. Sleep well, dear Witcher.” Jaskier turns over with his back to Geralt, scooching back a bit, close enough that Geralt can feel the heat radiating from his skin. Geralt hums, his fingers flexing at his sides, itching to touch, to hold, to gather Jaskier into his arms and never let him go.

Instead, Geralt only gives a whispered, “Goodnight, Jaskier.”

***

The sky is black when they do finally arrive in Blackbough, bespeckled with stars far and wide. Jaskier leans against a post while Geralt checks over the notice board in the center of town, the bard kicking off one boot and digging his thumb into the tender skin of his sole.

“Fuck, Geralt. My feet are exhausted. Don’t get me wrong, I would happily trot along at your side until the end of my days, but I may need to invest in some new boots sooner rather than later if that’s to be the case,” Jaskier groans, sliding his foot back into the soft leather of his boot. Geralt hums as he tears a slip of parchment from the board, watching it flutter between his fingers.

“Wind’s howling,” Geralt rumbles, tucking the parchment into his pack atop Roach.

“Yes, dear Witcher,” Jaskier’s hair flaps about his face, “thank you for the weather update.”

“Why don’t-” Geralt starts, peering over at the bard. “Why don’t you head to the tavern, see if they’ll let you play for a night in a room. I’ll be out scouting this contract, so you should absolutely stay here.”

Jaskier looks back at the little building, noting the light shining from the windows and the voices still floating in the din of the evening. He nods, and Geralt raises an eyebrow at the lack of argument. “Oh shut it, Geralt,” Jaskier grins, “you know that I would typically be more than happy to traipse through spooky fog and poky underbrush. Alas, I am fucking tired. So, on this one occasion, I will admit that you are right.”

Geralt gives one of his rare smiles, a cheeky turn of the corner of his lip, and turns to lead Roach out of town. “I’ll come collect you in the morning. Try not to get into too much trouble.”

Jaskier scoffs half-heartedly, swinging his lute case around as he turns towards the tavern. Geralt listens to be sure that Jaskier is secure in the building before he changes course, heading instead to a large structure situated just on the edge of town.

***

Geralt stands in Jaskier’s room, surrounded by the dulcet tones of his deafening snoring. He has called out to the bard several times, but nothing has been able to wake him. That is, nothing until Geralt decides to grab a sweet bun from the innkeeper and a cup of steamy tea.

Jaskier hums when he smells the herbs next to his face, smiling a bit when he sees Geralt brooding in the corner. Jaskier takes a great bite out of the pastry, moaning quite obscenely at the taste. “Have a nice night, Geralt?”

Geralt hums, gathering Jaskier’s stuff from around the room. By the Gods, he was only here for a few hours. There is a doublet over a chair, trousers on the dresser, one boot by the door and one by the fireplace, and blankets and furs all over the place.

“Alright, Bard. Let’s go, I have something to pick up before we leave town.” Geralt chucks the pants to Jaskier. They hit him square in the face before falling into his lap, revealing quite the impressive side-eye.

Jaskier sighs, sipping his tea as he goes about getting dressed. Geralt watches once more, chuckling to himself as Jaskier tries to ruffle his hair into something that doesn’t quite resemble a harpy’s nest.

The two of them head out of the tavern soon after, the morning sun greeting them through the dew. “Geralt, where’s Roach?”

“Stable.”

Jaskier responds by strumming a chord on the lute with a look over to Geralt, confirming his permission to play for the time being. Geralt gives a short nod of the head and Jaskier begins, something quiet and slow as the world warms in the dawn.

The stableboy sees them approaching and ducks inside, leaving Geralt and Jaskier standing alone. Geralt closes his eyes and just listens to the tune that Jaskier hums, relaxing into the sweet tone that drips like rainwater off of a fresh flower.

The stableboy comes back out, followed closely by Roach and a second horse. She is palomino blonde and slender with a spring in her step. Jaskier quirks his brow at the latter, stepping confidently towards the stablehand, who most certainly does not get paid enough for this.

“Thank you sir, but it’s just Roach for us. Geralt, would you mind-”

Geralt tosses the kid an extra coin as he takes both sets of reins, passing the palomino to Jaskier. But Jaskier only looks at him, even when he gives the soft leather a good shake in the bard’s direction. Roach butts Geralt on the shoulder, wisely prompting him to use his words. “She’s uh...she’s your horse, Jask.”

“What? Geralt, I don’t have a horse. Did you get hit on the head or something, you silly Wi-”

“I bought her, Jaskier. I bought her for you.”

Jaskier finally shuts up, taking the reins from Geralt’s hand with a tentative grip. The palomino steps closer to Jaskier, snuffling his hair. He giggles, setting something quite tender alight in Geralt’s heart.

“Geralt, I-I don’t quite know what to say...I thought you needed new armor?” Jaskier’s voice is quiet as he scritches along the horse’s nose.

Geralt shakes his head, fiddling with the straps on Roach’s saddle. “No. Wanted this to be a surprise.”

Jaskier goes silent, and Geralt can’t quite bring himself to look over at him. But then Jaskier sniffles and Geralt looks up, finding tears on his cheeks and a soft look in his eyes.

“You-you got her for me?”

Geralt nods, struck by a sudden boldness. He moves forward, grabbing the soft fabric of Jaskier’s doublet at his wrist. “I don’t like seeing you hurt. You-” Geralt huffs, grappling for words. “You’re far too important to me.”

“I-do I need to actively hold onto the reins all of the time, Geralt?”

“No, why?”

“Because I would very much like to kiss you right now, and I would love to have both hands free for that.” Geralt’s eyes widen a bit and he nods, his breath catching as Jaskier drops the reins and surges into him. Jaskier’s lips are so much softer than Geralt had ever let himself imagine, and his fingers in Geralt’s hair feel like the closest thing that he will ever get to true paradise.

They part, but only far enough to look each other in the eyes. Geralt looks into those eyes, the clearest blue rivers rushing to raging seas. Geralt’s hands rest on Jaskier’s hips, his thumb rubbing little circles into his sides. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead onto Jaskier’s, reveling in the way that Jaskier’s heart speeds up and his breathing tightens a bit in his embrace.

“Thank you, Geralt. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you,” Jaskier whispers, light as a feather between their lips.

Geralt hums once more, still holding fast to the bard. “We should be leaving soon.”

“Can I have another kiss?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt can hear the smirk in his words.

“I suppose,” Geralt smiles as he leans back into him.

#geraskier #fluff #THESE TWO #i love them

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emilia3546 · 4 years ago

Text

Shadowsinger Part 7 -Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

*****

Azriel fought the urge to fidget, waiting, hidden in the shadows at the back of the room, not all the camp lords were even here yet, but they were still complaining. A clock in the corner struck nine and, almost as one, heads turned to the doorway, to Rhys' form appearing there, right on time. Azriel dispelled the shadows, and almost grinned at the clear surprise of some camp lords, and the outright fear of others, those who'd been toeing the line of outright treason. The moment Rhys stepped into the room, the camp lords stood, some smiled at him, others remained neutral, but there were a few who were glaring at him as if he were the greatest evil they'd ever seen. Rhys waved it all off, taking his seat at the head of the table,

"Sit down, and let's get on with it." Silence still reigned over the table as Azriel stalked across the room to stand behind Rhys, a hand casually resting on Truthteller's hilt at his side. "I believe there are some issues that you wish to discuss," Rhys started, but silenced an overeager lord with a look, "And I will listen, but my decision on matters will be final, is that understood?" He was met by begrudging nods and allowed the first lord to speak,

"Thank you, High Lord." Good, at least this one hadn't forgotten his manners. Azriel fought the instinct to glare at Ironcrest's camp lord, the arrogant shit that he was, "I do have some concerns about some of your new rules,"

"Laws." Azriel corrected him, "You don't get to belittle laws you don't like."

"My apologies, about your new laws. My daughter, she now has to train with the boys, and wear leathers, I can see them looking at her, and it disgusts me. I have to protect her, but I cannot if you insist that she is trained with the boys." Rhys nodded slowly,

"I understand your concern, but, that is exactly why she should be trained, so that you don't need to protect her all the time. Can she hold her own in a fight?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then you don't need to worry, but I will consider allowing all-female training sessions for those who prefer, and," he added seeing the uproar that was about to kick off, "I will ensure a plan is made to avoid limiting training time for males and the females who are happy to train with them." The camp lord narrowed his eyes for a moment, considering, but sat down, Azriel knew better than to believe he was actually happy, but there was no other way for him to push back. It seemed that, for now at least, he would be content. The moment he sat down another stood to take his place,

"You might be content to see your girls fighting, but I am not. I do not care that your mate fights, High Lord, it is not in females' nature to fight, they will get hurt, and will be unable to do the jobs that they are supposed to do."

"What? Get married and breed?" Rhys raised an eyebrow as he spoke, "I'd consider your answer very carefully,"

"No, but someone has to maintain the camps, do the cooking, make clothes, look after children. Males train and fight full-time, there is no time for that, females fighting is ridiculous, when that isn't what they are designed to do."

"Again, I do understand that you worry about the integrity of your camp, but, I assure you, with both males and females helping with household chores, there is ample time to train and maintain a home."

"I don't think you understand the time it takes, High Lord, it can't be done."

"It can be done, with both males and females helping. Cassian probably works and trains more than all of you, and his mate matches him minute for minute, but they still find time to cook, clean the House, and spend time with their family." The camp lord struggled for words for a moment, "I will have plans written up to help with this if needed, but give yourselves some time to adjust, and teach your sons how to help their sisters and mothers." The camp lord nodded, not quite satisfied, but contented again. Azriel almost winced, if only he knew exactly what they wanted, what exactly Rhys could do to prevent them from rebelling, neither of the two lords who had spoken were really happy, they were just going to wait until Rhys made a wrong move, and strike.

Azriel watched silently, glaring at anyone who liked like he might start violence, and stepped closer to Rhys, ready to step in front of him if needed, but the room stilled when Ironcrest's camp lord stepped up,

"High Lord," he slightly inclined his head to Rhys, in a mockery of a bow, "Hello, Shadowsinger," he chuckled, "Our ability to protect our people comes from our ability to maintain order," each word was carefully chosen but Azriel knew what he really meant, he wanted to be able to control his people, "For protecting our females, that means keeping them in the camp, where they are safe, now they will be tempted to fly somewhere they cannot be protected, where no male knows where they are. We must keep them in the camp for their own safety, and not tempt them with flight elsewhere, into danger." Azriel almost snarled,

"Safety? Is that what you call it?" Rhys chuckled, "I call it control, and it makes you no better than those fae who kept humans as slaves, but you at least convince your enslaved people into thinking that you want to protect them. You don't fool me, but, since the threat of a female not being to defend herself outside of the camps is genuine, you have brought up the exact reason for my insistence that they also train." The lord's face fell for a moment,

"If they fight, they might start to think that they can lead,"

"They can lead, unless you're worried that you might become dispensable." The lord chuckled,

"Of course not, but I will not have my females thinking that they are more than what they are."

"And what is that?" Rhys' voice was a low warning,

"Wives and mothers, homekeepers, not warriors, that is and has always been, a male role, I will not allow you to destroy our culture." With that he stood and left, leaving silence in his wake,

"Anyone who tries to ignore any laws will be punished as such, if help is needed to adjust it can be provided, or if there are genuine concerns outside of 'females' place' do send me a letter, and I will address them as best I can." Rhys then stood, and rested a hand on Azriel's shoulder, winnowing them both back to Velaris.

Azriel almost stumbled on hitting the ground outside the River House,

"I'm sorry," he muttered, and Rhys blinked,

"What?"

"That was awful, you should have known exactly what they wanted and how to truly avoid a war, that just delayed it."

"I know enough to know that truly avoiding a war is near impossible,"

"But not impossible, not with the right intel."

"Az, you did everything right, anything more drastic would have been noticed," he placed a hand on Azriel's shoulder, "You didn't think you'd find much, don't worry," Azriel turned away,

"I didn't expect much, but I expected something, you shouldn't have had to go in there blind."

"Az, really, it's fine, your spies not being able to find anything tells us something else, we know at least that they're all being very careful with what they say, that they don't trust their own, and can't be unified." That was true, and Azriel nodded, "C'mon, we've got to make a plan, Feyre's waiting, and Cass will be here soon."

"No Nesta?"

"No, she'd already planned to go with Gwyn to visit Emerie." What? Rhys didn't miss the flash of worry in his eyes, "It's okay, Emerie says there's no hint of rebellion there, Mor dropped them off right at her house, and saw them go inside, no-one will attack them inside." Ariel nodded again and pushed the door open,

"Hold him," Feyre immediately brushed past him, dumping Nyx into his arms as she ran for the nearest bathroom. Azriel wrinkled his nose at the unmistakable scent of vomit, he held Nyx at arms length as the baby gurgled and hiccuped, still smelling, and Rhys chuckled behind him,

"He's not going to explode you know,"

"I know, he smells,"

"He's a baby, they smell." Azriel still held Nyx slightly away from his chest, but smiled when he narrowed his eyes, going still and then trying to leap for a shadow on Azriel's shoulder. With Nyx's tiny wings flapping, Azriel only just managed to catch him before he fell.

"Well he definitely takes after you, Mr Reckless." Rhys grinned again, and Azriel followed him through to the nursery, putting Nyx down and sending shadows racing around him, Nyx's shouts of joy as he chased them almost taking his mind off Illyria, almost, but not quite,

"Thanks, Az." Feyre grinned when she reappeared, armed with Velaris' best cleaning supplies as she made a beeline for her son, tickling him as she tried to clean him up, making faces at him to make him laugh and let her finish cleaning him. "Good boy," she muttered before releasing him to crawl after the shadows again. She flopped onto a couch next to Rhys, and he automatically threw an arm around her shoulders, "Meeting go well?"

"As well as we could have expected, they're all content for now, still grumbling, but they haven't got a decent excuse yet," Rhys explained, "We just need to brainstorm a few ideas about next steps now, so we can be prepared."

*****

Gwyn stifled a laugh as Nesta almost snorted out her mouthful of hot cocoa at Emerie's comment about one of their most recent books,

"He's not evil," she protested, "He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all."

"Wrong place at the wrong time?" Emerie snorted, "He's literally a war criminal!"

"Well, I think he's got potential, he just needs to see an alternative." Nesta insisted, and looked over to Gwyn, "C'mon, back me up,"

"I think," Gwyn narrowed her eyes, "That we don't really know him well enough to make a proper judgement, he could literally be evil, or he could be hiding his motives, perhaps it'll be clearer in the next book." Nesta cheered, and finished her mug of cocoa, staring triumphantly at Emerie,

"She didn't agree with you, either, Nes!" She shouted after her as she ran off to the kitchen to refill her mug, and grinned when she returned,

"Anyway," Gwyn started, "Enough about fictional males, how's mated life treating you? We haven't had a proper discussion yet." Nesta snorted,

"I've only been back for a few days,"

"Still," Gwyn raised an eyebrow, and Nesta laughed,

"It's like, well you know what we were like before, it's like that, but somehow more, with the bond there, really there, everything is so much more intense, y'know."

"Not really," Emerie smiled, "Care to enlighten us?"

"You know when you love someone so much that when they're not there, you constantly want to check that they're okay?" Both Emerie and Gwyn nodded, Catrin, Gwyn had loved her that much, differently to how Nesta loved Cassian, but she had loved her so much. "It's more than that, it's like looking in a mirror, like seeing my soul reflected in his eyes."

"And the sex is good, yes?" Emerie chuckled, and Nesta blushed, trying to dodge the question,

"You have no idea," she finally muttered, earning a howl of laughter from Emerie, "Right after you mate, there's like a pull, and well,"

"Don't tell me you spent your whole honeymoon having sex?" Emerie giggled gleefully, enjoying this conversation far too much,

"Not all of it!" Nesta insisted, "We went to a little house in the mountains, Cass built it himself a while ago, right after Rhysand became high lord, it was the first time he'd ever been able to buy anything himself, so he bought the materials for that house." Gwyn smiled, "It's right by a lake, and when the sky's clear, and there's no wind, it looks like a mirror, like the stars and moon are shining up rather than down."

"It sounds beautiful," Gwyn mused,

"It is, and, I don't think he noticed, but when we went down to the lake one evening, some of the stars, they crested just over his wings, and almost looked like a set of armor, but then it disappeared, right as he pointed out some of the constellations, Enalius, he's the one I remember best, but there was a lion one, and a pegasus, and," Nesta paused, and pursed her lips, trying to remember, "And, oh a wolf. And then, he picked me up, and flew above the trees, and the stars were shining over the mountains in the distance. We picked a star. It's our star, whenever I look at it, I have to think of him, and when he looks at it he has to think of me. I know it's a bit lovey-dovey, but I like having that, even when he's not right here."

"I think it's cute," Gwyn squeezed Nesta's hand, "I'm gonna get some more marshmallows," she gestured to the dismally boring mugs of cocoa, and slipped off to the kitchen, and swore when she saw that they'd run out, "Em!" She shouted up the stairs, "You got any more marshmallows?"

"Yeah, there's some in the parlor at the side of the house, I think," Emerie shouted back, before howling with laughter, presumably at Nesta's expense, and Gwyn chuckled to herself as she stepped outside, the cold air nipping at her face as she quickly skirted round the house, keeping an eye out before rummaging through to find the marshmallows.

A hand clamped over her mouth, and muffled Gwyn's scream as she was dragged backwards, no, no, no, she couldn't, not again, tears pricked her eyes as she fought desperately to regain her balance, her panic clouding her mind. She forced herself to stop, to take a deep breath in. It was dark, no-one else was around, Nesta and Emerie were too far away to help her. She glanced around as much as she could, there, Emerie had a wood-chopping block set up, and the axe was still there. She relaxed, and stopped struggling, waiting for her attacker to grow complacent. He didn't, just tugged her tighter against him,

"You're one of the bitches who thought that females can fight," a voice hissed in her ear, "We'll see what our 'oh so powerful' High Lord thinks when he finds out we have you." Gwyn shivered in fear, slowly trying to loosen his grip on her, but the moment he slightly let go, he spun her around and threw her to the floor, she was several hundred meters from the house now, even if she screamed nobody would hear her. Right as she tried to get up, he kicked her hands out from underneath her, pinning her wrists to the floor. She couldn't breathe. This was it. She was going to die, right here, right now, she was going to die. "Pathetic," the male hissed, "Girls like you should know better than to go outside in the dark on your own, even if the camp is loyal, some of us don't agree with the new laws." Gwyn ignored him, focusing on keeping her breathing slow, but each time he adjusted his grip on her, it sped back up. She had to distract herself, something happy. Nesta smiling, Emerie laughing, male in the dark. It wasn't working, miniature pegasus, male in the dark. Baby Nyx, male in the dark. Azriel. Azriel smiling, Azriel laughing, Azriel singing, Azriel holding her, flying over Velaris, Azriel teaching her silent fighting, Azriel, Azriel, Azriel.

Gwyn surged upwards, flipping the male off, and sprinted for the axe, wrenching it out of the wood, and hurled it at her assailant, only turning back in her mad sprint for the safety of the house at his grunt of pain. He stumbled, blood seeping out through his leathers as he inspected the gash in his thigh,

"Bitch," he hissed, and Gwyn flew for the door, latching it behind her,

"Nesta! Emerie!" Gwyn screamed, backing away from the door, Nesta was the first down the stairs, "We have a problem, call Cassian now, get someone here to fetch us early, he'll break down the door soon." True to her words, a banging started on the doors, and stopped, but then intensified, oh shit, he had the axe, she'd practically given it to him, and he was going to kill them. "You have any weapons, Em?" Emerie silently shook her head,

"Only kitchen knives,"

"That'll do," Nesta muttered, "C'mon, we should be ready for when he gets in." Gwyn followed Nesta into the kitchen, quite happy to let her plan, and position them all. The banging stopped, he was in, but then there was a thump, and the door squeaked open, so it was still on its hinges,

"Nesta? Gwyn? Emerie?" Mor. Gwyn stood out of her hiding place, and Emerie ran for Mor, her wings almost knocking them both off their feet as she crashed into Mor's arms,

"Thank the gods," she muttered, "We thought we were going to have to fight him off with cutlery." Mor snorted,

"Not on my watch, let's get out of here." Emerie wrapped her arms around Mor's waist, and Nesta and Gwyn each held an arm, only letting go once they reached the House of Wind, "There's not a spare room here, there's already one in the townhouse though, I'll stay with you if you prefer, Em." Emerie smiled and nodded,

"Yeah, okay, thanks." And held on to Mor as she winnowed them away again. Gwyn had barely registered arriving before Cassian hurtled through the door, and cupped Nesta's face in his hands,

"Are you hurt? Who tried to hurt you? I'll kill him, I'll kill him." Nesta reached up to cup his face,

"I'm fine, I'm fine Cass, no-one touched me, Mor was there quickly enough." Cassian gathered her into his chest,

"I'm never leaving your side again," he muttered, kissing the top of her head, and Gwyn almost wanted to leave, but that felt more awkward,

"That's a bit dramatic," Nesta giggled,

"I mean it, sweetheart, I'm going nowhere, from now on, I get to tag along on girls night." Nesta snorted again,

"Only if you let us braid your hair."

"Deal." Gwyn's attention was drawn away by a little noise behind her, and she turned to find Azriel waiting,

"How long have you been there?" She asked, and he shrugged,

"I didn't want to startle you," Gwyn just wrapped her arms around his neck, raising herself on her tiptoes just to reach, "Are you okay?" He muttered, noting the mud all over her clothes,

"Yeah, just a bit shaken, he didn't get a chance to actually hurt me, just scared me a bit." Azriel nodded, and squeezed around her waist a little, "I panicked,” she admitted, "All the training we've been doing, and the first time I got ambushed, I panicked."

"That's okay, it's normal, you still got away, that's still great." Gwyn sighed,

"I suppose, but what if it happens again, I mean it was a male in the dark, and I just froze," tears formed in her eyes when Azriel gently tipped her chin up to look at him,

"That is normal, Gwyn. You did so, so well by realizing that you were panicking and working through it to escape, you did, I am so proud of you for that." Gwyn smiled, just a little, but it made Azriel grin at her, "Do that again."

"What?"

"Smile." She did,

"Thank you, Az." She mumbled, letting him lead her back to her rooms and draw up a bath. He stayed sat on the bed while she washed, talking gently, almost nonsense, but his voice, just his voice chased away the remaining fear, and Gwyn found that she was exhausted, and was almost asleep when she flopped into bed, barely registering when Azriel brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her brow gently before leaving her to sleep. Gwyn tried to call out his name, to ask him to stay, but he was gone, and sleep claimed her quickly.

Tired as she was, dreams plagued her sleep, dreams of faceless males, in the dark, dreams that she hadn't had in years, dreams of Catrin's face, smiling and laughing, then crying silently in fear, dreams of the younglings she had to protect before they shared her sister's fate. Her eyes flew open right as that Hybern commander's face appeared in her dreams. She stumbled to the bathroom, staring straight into the mirror.

I'm safe.

It's over.

I'm in Velaris.

I'm safe.

It's over.

I'm in Velaris.

It wasn't working, her usual calming ritual wasn't working, she couldn't calm herself down, she splashed her face with water, deep breaths, deep breaths. The bed was drenched in sweat when she returned, sweat that felt like blood, Catrin's blood, just like the nightgown clinging to her skin now. Gwyn stepped back into the bathroom, and cleaned herself up before changing into a new nightgown. When she returned to the bed, it was clean, new sheets in place,

"Thank you," she whispered, just about managing to fall asleep until a voice filled her dreams

That one's mine.

Gwyn hurled herself out of bed, she had to get out, she had to just get away, she threw the door open, a sob rising in her chest as he eyes fell on the door across from hers, as the scent from that room reached her. Male, but safe, male, but safe, male, but she didn't fear it, no, she didn't fear it, she loved it. She threw the door open, the sobs finally forcing their way out of her as she ran fro Azriel. She sobbed as she crawled onto the bed, into his arms, and buried her face in his chest,

"Az," she sobbed, and he mumbled gently to her, she couldn't quite make out the words, but his voice was calm, soothing, and she snuggled into him, "I had a nightmare," she muttered by way of an explanation, and Azriel gently stroked her hair, "About Sangravah, I was scared."

"You're safe here," he mumbled, "I'm right here, no-one can touch you, not while I'm here." She nodded and sniffed again, fear dissipating with every word he spoke, and giggling when a shadow wrapped around her,

"They're protecting me," she giggled, and gradually drifted back to sleep, nightmares held at bay as she slept this time. She was safe here, with him. Gwyn slept the whole night snuggled against Azriel's chest, safe in his arms.

#fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn #gwyn acosf #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara

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headtothecoast · 5 years ago

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hogwarts!geraskier au

geralt is a hufflepuff and jaskier is a slytherin if you think otherwise be prepared to catch these hands. and maybe a lute.

geralt's appearance is very much meant to intimidate and jaskier's is meant to sooth. however, the sorting hat doesn't care about that. it cares about intent. jaskier intends to get famous. geralt intends to help people.

so picture this,

muggleborn jaskier who realizes he can literally enchant people with his music and wants to become famous. pureblood geralt whose father vesemir separated from their family when he was younger but takes in children that are unwanted in some way, be it birth/magic/social status.

the two meet on the train. geralt is sitting alone in a cabin and he's quiet and angry as a kid because his family didn't want him and his brothers are off somewhere having fun but he isn't sure he wants to go to hogwarts because he would much rather be at home with roach. he was scared he wouldn't be good at this whole magic thing, eskel had told him that's why his parents didn't want him so he may as well show up, not get put in a house, and take the train home back to roach. that's the plan anyways.

at least until he hears a commotion in the hallway of the train and sees two 3rd years holding a 1st year with wants pointed at him and wicked smiles on their faces and it doesn't matter that geralt's never cast a spell he's seen eskel and lambert practice movements and vesemir perform this one often enough around especially vindictive parents that geralt casts such a strong protego he sends the 3rd years flying and the small 1st year is staring at him with the largest eyes he's ever seen and a split lip.

geralt intends to just walk away because the 3rd years don't look like they're coming back and geralt honestly can't believe it worked except the other 1st year sticks his hand out and introduces himself as jaskier the famous musician! and thanks geralt for helping him and well no he didn't exactly have it under control and my goodness what year are you in because none of the older kids really wanted to help me the sods but you're much nicer than them aren't you and i don't really know how i keep getting myself into those sorts of messes and what magic did you just perform there? i've never done magic before! didn't know it existed until my parents got a letter and they were more surprised than me i guess by golly you are tall mr. oh my goodness i am so sorry i didn't ask your name, what is your name?

and geralt has a headache as well as a better understanding for why those 3rd years wanted this kid out of their cabin but also it's less lonely in his cabin now that jaskier is sitting next to him jabbering away and fidgeting a little because of the silence and geralt almost forgets he was asked a question but tells jaskier his name and is rewarded with more conversation and praise and if jaskier rubs his wrists where the other kids had grabbed him then geralt ignores it and definitely doesn't hand him a chocolate frog when the trolley comes around and smile a little when jaskier's eyes nearly burst from his head when the frog leaps right out of the box and into his hand. and then jaskier's sad because he doesn't want to kill the frog and geraaalt isn't that mean, to eat a real frog and geralt doesn't even get to weigh in that it's a fake one before the prefects walk around and remind everyone to change into their robes.

so geralt and jaskier are sitting again except jaskier keeps going on about his robes and then looks speculatively at geralt and asks if he knows anything about hogwarts. geralt says he has older brothers and sisters that have attended and have been sorted into every house. when jaskier asks him about the house system geralt tells him everything his brothers had told him, albeit haltingly. gryffindor is for the brave, slytherin for the clever, ravenclaw for the smart and hufflepuff for the loyal. jaskier asks how the hat determines which one you are and geralt says it reads your mind, talks to you sort of, asks you what you want in life. jaskier says he wants to be a musician and asks geralt what he wants. geralt says he wants roach. jaskier laughs and geralt prepares to be made fun of but jaskier says that's a wild name and asks what roach is and that it's so cool geralt has a horse or a foal because she's so little and goes off for a little bit before seeing the castle in the distance and sobering long enough to ask geralt if he thinks there's a bad house to get put in because he heard one of the older kids talking about slytherins.

geralt thinks for a moment because his brothers and sisters had been in every house. there were slytherins, gryffindors, ravenclaws, and hufflepuffs all over kaher morhen during the holidays, so many he was sure they could hold class on the estate and hogwarts need not open its doors. he knows that gryffindors are usually loud and boisterous, that ravenclaws are dedicated and single-minded, that slytherins always have a goal, and that hufflepuffs can always be found next to one of them. he tells jaskier that none of the houses are bad, that each one is different and that whichever one jaskier gets put in would be lucky to have him. slytherin just means you know what you want and you're determined more than anything to do it.

and suddenly geralt has his arms full of jaskier who is laughing and thanking him and telling him that he hopes they're in the same house because who wouldn't want to be in the same house as their very best friend.

geralt's eyes go wide because except for his siblings, who don't count, he hasn't ever had a friend. and maybe from the look on jaskier's face of wide eyes and an unsure smile he thinks neither has he. so geralt just nods and says even if they're not in the same house, siblings get put in different places all the time so it's not like they wouldn't see each other.

and suddenly they're standing in a hall with long tables and high ceilings and a short stool in the middle of stone floors while the headmistress explains some updates that geralt and jaskier are too nervous to hear but then the sorting hat sings a song about unity and trust and geralt elbows jaskier as if to say i told you so and suddenly he's sitting on the stool and talking to a hat.

another rivia. how interesting. you remind me of your father. geralt sits up straighter at that. the one thing vesemir had always refused to tell them was his own hogwarts house. he didn't want to admit to favorites. yes i can see that you would like that, or that you think you would like to be like your adoptive father. interesting. and yet the boy you met on the train earlier - jaskier, now there's a talkative kid if you've ever met one. and geralt remains mostly silent while the hat deliberates, he doesn't know if he gets to say anything or weigh in on the decision. of course you get a say. what house do you prefer? and geralt draws a blank. he doesn't know. supposes he doesn't care but that's not right he does care he just, never saw himself getting this far really. expected he'd be back home with roach by now and not actually having to pick a house. so geralt asks the hat which one is your favorite and the hat is surprised. geralt thinks its laughing on his head and then so much like vesemir before the hat shouts HUFFLEPUFF

and there's clapping when he steps down from the stool and he goes to sit at the table except jaskier hugs him and is smiling and geralt smiles back and says good luck and then he's sitting by kids dressed in yellow and waiting for his friend to sit beneath a hat.

ah. a muggleborn. jaskier. geralt's friend. you have an interesting mind. though i'm sure you know that. surprised you aren't talking my flaps off right now actually given how much i saw you talk in geralt's head. ah well. let's see. you want to be a musician correct? at the question jaskier startles and peeps a yes, because the hat didn't sound like it was saying things outloud but just in his head and it was a strange feeling and jaskier wanted to ask geralt what the hat said to him except the hat asked him something else which he didn't quite catch but he heard the laughter and then - yes your thoughts are so fast it's hard to keep pace, and i can read minds. well, given their speed and determination i guess we'll go with SLYTHERIN - the hat shouts and then jaskier is being wisked off to a sea of green.

and when the headmistress looks out over the tables and finishes her welcoming speech she claps her hands and says alright now off with you, arranged seating is only for the sorting ceremony, sit where you like

and geralt barely gets out an oomf before jaskier slams into him talking a mile a minute and geralt just smiles to himself and listens.

*sorry, these are always longer than i mean them to be. they’re too long to feel like a headcannon and too short to be considered a fic.

**not sure how/when to add yennifer sorry, maybe she’s a year above them and no one can figure out which house she’s in since she stole an outfit of each color because i wouldn’t put it past her

#geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #jaskier #geraskier #hogwarts!geraskier #slytherin!jaskier #hufflepuff!geralt #the witcher #hogwarts au #vesemir #eskel #lambert

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

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I Remember the Fallen, Do They Think of Me: A Rusty Quill Gaming fanfic

Also on AO3.

They’re none of them in very good shape, really. Well, except for Skraak, who seems to have managed to avoid getting a finger or tendril laid on him the whole time they were in Svalbard. He seems fine. The others might be fine physically, but that purple migraine that came out of the floorboards in the Council chamber did a number on their spirits. Cel’s the worst off, although they’re doing a bit better since their mutagen wore off, but they’re still edgy and tense and more strung up than usual. Azu just looks marginally grumpy, which isn’t a good look on her. Zolf almost wants to say something about how this party only has room for one sourpuss, but he probably won’t be able to make it sound like a joke, and it isn’t really a joke anyway, and Azu is quite capable of taking his head off, literally, if the mood strikes her. Which it well might. She looks like she’s itching to kill something and Zolf isn’t keen to be it. Hamid mostly looks tired, as well he ought with all the spells he cast. There’s a part of him that wants to compliment Hamid on his conduct back there, on strategic use of his spells to help his party members and keeping his head and not only finding the kill switch but figuring out how to use it to save them all, but it probably won’t come out right. Hamid will probably think he’s being condescending or something, or use it as an excuse to pick a fight. They’re both tired, really. And Zolf is feeling every one of the blows he took; nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure, he supposes, but at least that’s the worst of it for him.

So he doesn’t protest when Einstein teleports them back to Other London and Wilde insists they get some sleep in the back of Gragg’s old tavern rather than risk breaking the surface in the state they’re in. Skraak does, and surprisingly, so does Azu, but all Zolf has to do is point at Cel, looking miserable, and they back down.

“Got a room upstairs,” Gragg says, pointing upwards. “Lots of room for you all. I’ll be down here. Oh—Mr. Smith, right?”

“Yeah?” Zolf frowns at Gragg.

“Letter came for you. From the Poseidon lot. Their messenger said they thought I’d know where to find you.” Gragg shrugs, a little helplessly, and holds out an envelope. “I didn’t, but you’re here.”

Zolf sighs and takes the envelope with a muttered “thanks”. He’s done with the Poseidon lot, has been for close to two years now, but it seems they’re not done with him. He looks over at the others. “Go lie down, the lot of you. I’ll see what this is all about and then I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Surely it can keep until the morning, Zolf,” Wilde says. “Or whatever passes for morning right now. It’s kept this long.”

“Rather not try and sleep with this hanging over my head,” Zolf replies. “Won’t be but a minute.”

“Hmm.” Azu looks at him, then nods once and starts shooing the others up the stairs. Gragg gives him a nod, too, then disappears into the back.

Once Zolf is alone, he sinks down onto a barstool and immediately wishes he hadn’t. It’s not that it’s uncomfortable, or that it’s too tall for him, or even that now that he’s sitting he doesn’t want to get up. It’s that the last time he sat on one of these stools, it was less than twenty-four hours after meeting Hamid and Sasha (and, unfortunately, Bertie), back when he was still just a mercenary, or a Cleric pretending to be a mercenary, or a mercenary pretending to be a Cleric, or just a disillusioned and drifting person desperately looking for something to believe in. Back when Other London was a bustling city full of people trying to live their lives and Gragg wasn’t responsible for anything more than having enough food and drink to last the night. Back before Zolf doomed the world.

He allows himself precisely five seconds to wallow in the guilt of the past, then props his elbows on the bar and turns the envelope over in his hands. ZOLF SMITH, CLERIC is scrawled on the front in extremely shaky, spiky handwriting, along with a series of letters at the bottom that’s obviously in some sort of code, since it’s got far too many X’s and no vowels except a couple I’s. The back is sealed with some very old wax that looks like someone literally just dripped a candle on the envelope and pressed a seal into it. Zolf sighs as he recognizes the shape—it’s a dead match for the ring he still wears on his own finger, his last connection to his family. The Spade of the Harlequins. This letter might have been passed on by a member of the Cult of Poseidon, but it’s coming from a Harlequin.

Probably it’s Curie, writing to say she isn’t dead after all, although why she’d write to him of all people is a bit beyond him. He’s also not sure why she would feel the need to emphasize his Cleric status on the address. But...whatever. Might as well get this over with.

He slides a finger under the flap of the envelope and loosens the seal, then pulls out the folded papers within. It’s a thick sheaf and surprisingly heavy, and when he unfolds them, something slips from between the pages and lands on the bar with a thump and a clatter. Zolf looks down and sees a dagger, etched with some arcane symbols he doesn’t recognize. Great. A magic dagger. That bodes well. He huffs at it. If they want him to identify it, they’re going to be out of luck; that’s not his area of expertise. Maybe he’ll ask Wilde or Hamid in the morning.

He turns his attention back to the letter. It’s the same scrawl as the front of the envelope, scratched out in some places, odd splatters of ink in others, and there are a couple places where it looks like the ink’s run a bit. Gods, he hopes he’ll be able to read this.

Less than a line in, and his blood runs cold as the rest of the world drops away.

Zolf -

It’s gone bad. It’s all gone real bad. I don’t know when this letter’s going to get to you, except I know it’ll be sometime after you left in Prague because—well, you left. You wouldn’t have left if you knew all this before. But it all went wrong, and I need you to know what happened.

It didn’t go wrong right away. At first it was kind of okay. Hamid and I went out and tried to see how many restaurants we could go to, and that was nice. It helped us both, I think, because we both missed you already, but neither of us said anything about that. Like if we pretended it didn’t happen, it wouldn’t hurt. And it worked, at least at first. And then we found Bertie at the last one we went to, and he was causing a huge mess, you know what Bertie’s like. You were right about that. After that it just kept getting worse.

I woke up the next morning and I didn’t feel good again. Everything was bleeding again and I looked kind of bad, but I pretended I was okay and Hamid and Bertie didn’t notice. Well, Bertie never noticed anything that he didn’t want to, but Hamid, I think he was still upset. I dunno. Anyway, I went to the Temple of Artemis to get healed. The lady there wasn’t like you, she didn’t really make me feel all that...I think that’s just what the Artemis lot are like, though. Everyone I’ve met who’s from Artemis, they do what needs doing and go on to the next thing. I didn’t know that then, though. Anyway, I asked her why it kept happening, why I kept waking up hurt, and how to make it stop, and she made me tell her a bunch of stuff and then said it was because I got brought back to life wrong and I’d have to go to a Temple of Aphrodite to get healed right.

Then there were zombies. Loads of zombies, and they were attacking in the middle of the square. We went to fight them off and that’s when we met Grizzop, he’s—he was a Paladin of Artemis, and he helped us fight them. Bertie had this ring, he said it was supposed to make the undead go away, but instead it made them come closer to him. It made me come closer to him, too, and that was really not a lot of fun, Zolf, I didn’t like that at all. I fought it, though. I fought it really hard and it mostly worked. But there were loads of zombies, and even though we fought them off okay, the four of us, I was real worried about you. Part of me wanted to go find you and make sure you were okay, but I knew you didn’t want to be found, so I had to trust you would be all right. Grizzop said he was supposed to be hunting down a rogue mage that was probably making all the zombies, and we were still supposed to go up to the University and stuff, so we said we’d go with him in the morning.

Everything opened up again overnight, so I had to get healed a bit. Hamid kept asking me if I was okay, and I kept telling him I was, partly because I knew he couldn’t do anything to fix it and partly because I’m just so used to pretending I’m fine when I’m not, and partly because I didn’t want to worry him more than I had to. We went up to the University like we talked about, and it just kept getting worse and worse. Mostly by Bertie being Bertie, but also because the rogue mage, Franz Kafka, he had a book that came from Rome and it drove him crazy. He was a Harlequin, the council told us, and they were all Harlequins too, they had rings like yours and Rakefine’s, and they’d kind of lied to Grizzop because they didn’t want people to know it was one of them doing the zombie thing down in the city, but they asked us to go take care of it and we said we would. So we went back down to Prague and fought loads of stuff. We had a map with all the plague pits on them, Kafka was raising zombies out of them, so we decided to try and clear out as many as we could. Hamid had got tickets for the opera and the ley lines crossed at the opera house, so he thought Kafka would choose to try and spring his trap there, but Grizzop and I said it’d be better to take out the zombies before that. We got him to agree in the end, kind of, but we didn’t manage to get all the zombie pits cleared out before the opera was supposed to start.

It got really, really bad at the opera, Zolf. I don’t know if you were still in Prague then, I don’t know if you heard about it, but it was real bad. The basement was full of zombies and Grizzop and I tried to fight them off, but there were so many and a couple of them were really big and even though I had all these bombs I made and Grizzop had his bow and arrows and all that, we couldn’t kill them all, so we had to run up to the top. Then when we got up there, we found out that Hamid was right, that Kafka had tried to attack at the opera, and everybody was frozen and Bertie and Kafka were both flying and facing off each other, and Hamid—Hamid was gone. He was nowhere in the theater, and when I got to the stage I saw his bracelets and what was left of his clothes looking like they’d been torn apart and I knew, I knew Kafka had killed him somehow, and it was my fault because I wasn’t there to help him. And Kafka didn’t just have Bertie, he had Hamid’s sister—she was singing in the opera, it’s why Hamid wanted to go so bad—and he told Bertie that he had to pick whether he’d kill Bertie or Aziza. Don’t think it’ll surprise you which one Bertie picked.

But Kafka cheated. He killed both of them. I wasn’t fast enough, I couldn’t stop him—I tried, Zolf, I tried so hard, but even with Grizzop shooting arrows at him I couldn’t kill him fast enough to stop him from killing both of them. And, I mean, I kind of would have wanted to kill Bertie myself, or let Hamid do it, or at least let Hamid yell at him a lot, but even though Bertie wasn’t a very nice person, he didn’t deserve what happened to him. And his sister—she was just singing. She was just there and doing what she loved and Hamid was so proud of her, Zolf, and Kafka killed her just because he could. It wasn’t right. The guards finally showed up, but they were too late to help. Bertie was dead and Aziza was dead and Hamid...

Well, Hamid wasn’t dead after all. Grizzop found him on the roof of the opera house. Kafka put a spell on him and turned him into a monster, and the monster ran away. So at least he didn’t hurt anybody and not know it. He’d have hated that. I’d have hated that. Grizzop would’ve just killed him, I think, and then I’d have really been alone and I don’t know what I would have done. But he didn’t and I wasn’t, not then. They fixed us up and we had to tell Hamid about what happened. I didn’t tell him about Bertie getting to pick. He was hurt enough by what happened. And we almost got arrested or kidnapped or something like that by the Cult of Mars, but Wilde showed up and got us out of it.

As bad as Hamid wanted to go home with his sister and make sure Bertie was taken care of and all that, when they gave us a job to do, he agreed to do it before Einstein teleported us to Cairo. So then we went into Newton’s study and found his pocket dimension, and it turned out that there was somebody working there who’d been working with Kafka and Edison on Mr. Ceiling, or on something like Mr. Ceiling anyway. And it turned out that she was an old friend of Hamid’s. I think they were dating once. She really didn’t like him anymore, though, so even if she hadn’t done the work that meant Mr. Ceiling could happen, I wouldn’t have liked her, because she was really nasty to him. And he just stood there and took it. He didn’t fight her and he didn’t argue with her and he didn’t try to stand up for himself. He just kept saying she had to come with us.

You’d be proud of him, I think.

Anyway, after that Einstein sent us to Cairo. We wound up in the middle of a real bad sandstorm—Hamid thought we were probably in the middle of the desert, but then it turned out we were on the main street and not that far from the Temple of Aphrodite. That’s when we met Azu, and that was a pretty good thing, but that was the only good thing really. They told us at the Temple they’d been having lots of really bad weather, like they were having in Dover when we were there. I like the rainstorms a lot better than sandstorms, but it still wasn’t fun. And that was the easy bad thing.

This part’s not easy to talk about, and it feels really selfish when I think back on it, because I didn’t handle it in a way that you’d be proud of. I went to talk to one of the healer people about whether or not they could fix how I kept waking up hurting and that the person at the Artemis temple had said I was a little bit undead. He checked me over and said that I wasn’t just a little undead, I was really undead, and that I only had about a month left before I turned into something else. Hamid and Grizzop called it a lich—I hope I’m spelling that right, it’s not like they ever wrote it down, but that’s what it sounds like. Grizzop said they were evil, but Hamid kept saying that maybe I would be the first non-evil lich. Which, I mean, I guess that would have been okay, but...

Eren Fairhands said there were only three ways to fix me—to die all the way and go for a resurrection, to get a necromancer to follow me around and do magic on me to keep me just plain undead, or to get this artifact called the Heart of Aphrodite that the Meritocrats had all locked up because they don’t want powerful magic just floating around for anyone to use. I told Hamid and the others that I didn’t think they’d agree to let me use something that powerful, just for me; Hamid insisted they might because we’d saved the world a couple times, and also his other sister worked for the Meritocrats so maybe it would be okay. But I didn’t believe him. The world doesn’t work that way for people like me, you know? And the other two options...I might have trusted them if you were there to do them, but not someone I didn’t know, or a god I didn’t know.

Anyway, we went to Hamid’s family’s house. Hamid was really scared about seeing his family again, but, I mean, it had to go better than seeing Barret did for me, right? And it sort of worked out okay, at first anyway, but everybody was real upset, not that I blame them. They had the funeral the next day, and it went okay, but a tall figure in a hood like the one that hung out with Barret showed up. We watched it and then it disappeared, but it was after Hamid’s brother, and we didn’t want him to lose anybody else, so we were trying to protect him. And then it came back and we attacked it and we managed to kill it, but I just, I didn’t handle it well at all. I fell apart and then I just shut down. I think I gave up. I decided I was just going to die and that was all there was to it.

Like I said, I don’t think you’d be very proud of me for that. I had options, even if they didn’t seem very likely, but there was still a chance and I should have held onto that. You would have. But I didn’t and that means I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done.

Hamid’s brother was working for Barret. Kind of. He got in debt and he owed Barret money, and Barret wanted him to rob the bank that Hamid’s family works for to pay him back, but things went wrong and someone died. That’s what Barret gave Hamid the ring for, he wanted him to give it to his brother, but Hamid wouldn’t because he’s a good person and he didn’t want to make his brother suffer. But because someone died, the bank was going to arrest him, but Hamid’s father said he would take the blame instead. Hamid tried to make him not do that, tried to make him see that his brother needed to face the consequences, but his father did it anyway. Then Hamid came back and told us what was happening, and he asked us for advice, and I said a lot of really mean things about his family. Well, all of us did, I guess, but...it’s different with Grizzop and Azu, you know? They didn’t know him. Not like I did. I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have said because I was upset and scared and hurting and I wanted to make Hamid feel that way too, and I shouldn’t have because he already was and I should have known that and it wasn’t fair. I won’t say I didn’t mean what I said, because I did, but I still shouldn’t have said it. And I didn’t mean it about Hamid, at least. He’s a good person, Zolf, he really is, even with what he did before, and he wanted us to help him and all Grizzop and Azu would say was that his brother and father deserved to be punished and I said they could get away with not being punished because they were rich and...

I wish you were there. You would have known what to say, what to do. You wouldn’t have made such a mess of it like I did.

I thought about you a lot that night, about what you would have said and done, and the next day when we went down for breakfast, I tried to do like you would have. I asked Hamid and Grizzop and Azu how their talk went after I left, and Hamid apologized to them for trying to keep his brother out of trouble and mucking it all up, and then he told us what happened to him. He got kicked out of university because someone he thought was his friend tried to get him to make a potion as a prank, but he wrote it down wrong and then the not-friend made it bigger and a bunch of people died, so he joined up with you—us—to try and make up for what he did. He was really worried that all he did was make things worse, because he said you didn’t think what we did in Paris helped, and then he didn’t think he helped at all in Prague. But he did, and he’s trying, and Grizzop said that was what was important. And I pointed out how much better he’s gotten since we met, because I meant it but also because I think you would have said it too, and he said it helped, me saying that. So we had a little bit of good, at least. And Hamid said a lot of really nice things about me when we met Apophis later that day, and Apophis agreed that we could use the Heart of Aphrodite to fix me. And it worked, Zolf, it really did. I’m good as new. Better, even, Fairhands even grew my finger back for me. For a little bit, everything was great, and the only thing that would have made it better was if you were there too.

And then it went bad again. We had to go to Damascus because there was information in the vaults when we got the Heart of Aphrodite that Edison was doing a bunch of stuff with the factories there, and that it might be involved with the Simulacrum and everything. The first factory was run by goblins and they were real proud of what they were doing, and they even gave me a dagger made of adamantine. When we went to investigate the other factory, though, they wouldn’t even let us in and it was really suspicious, so we sneaked in in the middle of the night to have a look around. They’d fired all the people who worked there and they had monsters in the warehouses to guard them, and they were building things like the Simulacrum. Loads of them. We had to fight our way out and then, well, we were going to go back to Damascus and find Wilde and tell him what was going on when someone showed up at the door with two more of those tall things like we killed at the funeral, and I think it was one of Bertie’s friends, you remember those people with the carriage from the Simulacrum unveiling? Wellington. Him. Anyway, Grizzop shot at him and he went away, but then they dropped a body in, only it wasn’t dead. It was Barret and he was tied up and beaten up.

You’d be proud of Hamid. He was all calm and serious and firm, just like you used to do when you were getting information out of bad people. I half expected him to threaten to drown Barret in a bucket. Would’ve loved to see the look on his face if he did. Anyway, Barret eventually told us he was working with the Cult of Hades. They’re the ones who suggested he get in touch with us about the Serpentines, and they’re the ones who helped him take all the kids out of Other London that got sent to Paris to be used for Mr. Ceiling. Then he told us the Cult of Hades had infiltrated the Meritocrats, and that he had too, and he gave Hamid a list of names. Grizzop and Azu wanted to just kill him. Hamid thought he should be arrested, but then they asked me what I wanted to do with him. If you’d been there, I’d have said he was a good candidate for a sacrifice, but...that didn’t seem right. Not just killing him. It’d be too easy to be just like him, and I never wanted that. So Azu and Hamid took him to Damascus to give him over to the Artemis lot to be put in prison, and they said they’d talk to Wilde and come back while Grizzop and I stayed and watched the factory and made sure nothing else bad happened. I went and checked one of the warehouses, and it was like it was raining in there—there was an aqueduct and they were piping water through, which I thought was weird because water was so expensive and hard to find in Damascus. Wilde showed up and asked us to show him the warehouses, then said we had to go because he’d arranged to have the factory destroyed. He said things were getting really bad, that there’d been the riots in London and Other London and a whole bunch of other places too, and that with the Meritocrats being compromised he didn’t trust anyone but our group, which kind of made me feel good and bad at the same time.

I like Wilde. Didn’t think I would, but I do.

Anyway, Apophis came in and turned the whole thing into glass, but there was steam coming up from a crack in it, so we slept on it and then investigated in the morning. There were pipes and tunnels and all sorts of things, and we almost got caught in a couple traps, but we came through okay, and then we found the secret part of the factory where they were making the outsides of the Simulacra (Hamid called them robots, I kind of like that better, actually). It turned out they were stealing the river, too, to make the factory work, so we started destroying it, because they were evil, or at least using evil things to do the work. It was all going so well for once. We were really doing good, even when we had to fight off an assassin that kept trying to turn us into stone.

And then...and then we got a weird magic message. I can’t really explain it in detail, maybe Hamid can tell you about it better, but the Cult of Hades sent us a message and told us that we needed to stop, or else. When we tried to argue with them, they showed us what they’d done.

They took our families.

Bi Ming, and Azu’s big brother, and one of Hamid’s little brothers, and a goblin who must’ve been important to Grizzop (I never got the chance to ask him about that). They had them tied up and trapped, and they said they were in Rome, and if we didn’t go and rescue them they’d...

Well. We weren’t going to let that happen, were we? We couldn’t. At least Hamid and I couldn’t. I think Azu was a little torn, because her brother can take care of himself and all, but Hamid and me, we couldn’t wait. We thought we’d pop back up, tell Wilde what was going on, get him to send in people to take care of it, and get on to Rome. We knew it was dangerous, but we had to. Grizzop argued with us about it, he said the mission was more important, and in the end he stayed behind and took care of everything while we went on to Rome with Einstein.

I’m sure you’ve heard about Rome and what it’s like. You’ve been loads more places than Hamid or I have, you’ve got to know the stories. I don’t think you can really know what it’s like unless you’ve been there, though. Best way I can describe it is, remember when we got across the Channel and you were telling me about that place you sailed through in a storm once, where you could see all the shipwrecks and things? Like that, but on dry land. Nobody lives there but monsters and the ghosts of memories. The air felt bad, and it did weird things to magic, too. Sometimes Hamid’s spells worked really well and sometimes they didn’t work at all and sometimes they were normal, it didn’t make any sense. Azu couldn’t do many spells at all, because her magic comes from Aphrodite and the prayers weren’t working. She said it was like Aphrodite couldn’t hear her, but I think now it’s the other way around—that Aphrodite could hear Azu just fine, but Azu couldn’t hear Aphrodite’s reply, and I think that’s worse. Because it means whatever was strangling Rome wanted people to feel like the gods abandoned them, but also wanted the gods to suffer knowing that people who believed in them and all that were desperately reaching for them and they couldn’t do anything but listen.

It wasn’t easy. It was hot and hard to move around sometimes, and things kept attacking us, all kinds of monsters. Einstein was basically useless, so it was just Azu and Hamid and me having to fight, and I was really glad I wasn’t trying to do this and also not turn into a lich, ‘cause not being able to heal would’ve been really bad. Worse for Hamid, though. He nearly blew himself up and it scared me half to death, but I was honestly too happy he was safe to really yell at him for it. We hid out in a basement overnight to sleep and heal, and the next day we found the place where our families were being kept...kind of. We had to sneak into this big building, and when we got in, we found a big purple cloud, like a hole in the universe or something. I don’t know the details of the magic, that was more Hamid’s thing, but the people we loved were inside it, and there was this Paladin of Apollo there, too, someone who apparently knew Bertie, and he went in there and got stuck. Grizzop got there with Eldarion, she’s—she was my teacher when I was in prison, kind of in prison anyway, and she wanted me to stop running around getting in trouble and go back somewhere safe, but I told her I wasn’t going to do that. Eventually she gave in. Einstein said he’d wait for us to teleport us out when we got out safely, we didn’t know how long it would be, because the magic led to another plane and time might not move the same way there.

Actually getting everybody out wasn’t so hard. It was like a puzzle. I kind of like puzzles, actually. We had to fight a couple monsters, nothing too serious, except one of them broke my favorite ice dagger and I was kind of upset about that. But Bi Ming was okay, and so was Issak, and Azu’s brother, and Grizzop’s friend, and even Ed. We got everything and we got together in a circle and Eldarion transported us back.

And that’s when it went really bad. At least for me.

I couldn’t hold on. There was just so much going on, and my hand slipped, and then I couldn’t grab Bi Ming’s hand quick enough to stop from getting ripped away from the group and getting lost. I didn’t come back with the others.

But, obviously, I’m writing this letter to you and it’s going to get to you, I know it will, so you know I’m not dead and I didn’t go to another reality or anything like that. I landed on the floor, and I recognized the floor of the place I’d been in before, just...newer. Brighter-looking.

I went back in time, Zolf. Grizzop too, his grip slipped too. He said Eldarion stepped out of the circle before we left the other dimension—there were too many of us, she couldn’t guarantee she’d get everyone back safe if she didn’t let go, I think—but she’s not here, so I don’t know where she ended up. But Grizzop and I came here. To Ancient Rome, in the days before it was destroyed. Literally days. I’m alive, I’m healthy...and I’m trapped two thousand years before I was even born, or anybody I love.

It’s still fresh, I don’t know if I can talk about it, but I’ll try. We tried to help, Grizzop and me. We went looking for the Cult of Mars, and the Cult of Hades, to try and take them down and see if we could stop Rome from being destroyed and the world from getting bad in the future.

We couldn’t.

We tried, honest we did, but the fight...it was too much, it was too bad. I think I should have died, but Grizzop took a spear that was meant for me. And then he kept getting hit, but he wouldn’t stop, he was trying to take down the captain. He did, but...but they killed him. I was right there and he went down and then they knocked me out and when I woke up I was strung up from the ceiling like I was going to be fed to something and there were all these dragons and Grizzop was still on the floor and he was dead and I wasn’t and...

I can’t, Zolf. I just...I can’t. Not now. Maybe, maybe someday I can, but not today.

The point is that we didn’t stop the cults, and we didn’t stop the dragons, and we didn’t save Rome, and we didn’t save the world. Maybe we couldn’t have. And Grizzop died and I didn’t. I checked when I got free, after the dragons got away, but I’m not a healer and I’m not magic and I’m not...there was nothing I could do. And I couldn’t even take him with me. I had to leave him there or I wouldn’t have got out.

I think I shut down again. I don’t remember a lot of the walk out of Rome. I just remember telling this man we’d met—his name is Cicero—I told him to show me the way out, and I followed him, and I made sure he didn’t die, because he was the only person I knew anymore and I was not going to lose anybody else. And along the way, there were—there were other people trying to leave, trying to get away, and I just, I grabbed them and I brought them with us, because I wasn’t going to leave them behind, because I couldn’t. Maybe I couldn’t save everybody, but I had to save the ones I could.

That’s all we ever can do, right?

We found a place. It’s...it’s a home. It’s warm, and dry, and safe. I can stand on the roof and see for miles around, but it’s close enough that I can get supplies if we need them, and bring in more people. Refugees from Rome, mostly. People who need a place to be safe. There aren’t as many as maybe you’d think, a lot of people just stop here before going on somewhere else, but some stay. Mostly kids. The ones with families, parents and kids, most of them go on after a while, but the kids who don’t have anywhere else, anyone else, they stay, and I’m trying to take care of them. Trying to teach them a bit.

It’s all been a way of marking time, really, up until now. I know, in my heart of hearts, that Hamid and Azu and the others made it back safe and sound. And I know Hamid won’t give up on me. Every day I’ve been expecting to see him, or a magical effect of some kind. Something to get me home. I’m trying to be patient, trying to tell myself that just because time’s going on for me doesn’t mean it is for you lot. It’s not going to be instant, it’s not—it’ll happen, I keep saying. I’ll get another chance. I’ve just got to wait.

But today, I—Cicero and the kids, they surprised me with a party. I’d told them I didn’t know when my birthday was exactly, which is kind of true because the months aren’t the same here, but I didn’t think about it until today. I got back from a supply run and they’d set up a celebration for me. Cicero told me that since I couldn’t remember when I was born, they’d decided that my new birthday was the day he met me, the day my new life started, I guess.

It’s been a year. A whole year.

I made it through the party, somehow, but as soon as I could I got away and came up here to my room. I was upset and scared and missing you more than ever, you and Hamid both, and I thought suddenly that maybe you didn’t know I was alive, that maybe Hamid thought I was lost and didn’t know where to find me, so I was going to write Hamid a letter at first, but...but I really wanted to write to you.

I really needed you.

I’m a little bit calmer now, though, and I’m thinking a little more clearly. Maybe writing all this out helped some. I just imagined I was talking to you, and that helped, too. I’ve never been all that great with words, but I’ll try here. There’s some important stuff I think I need to say.

Hamid and I were the same age, did you know that? We talked about a lot of stuff while we were going to the different restaurants in Prague, and one of the things we talked about was our birthdays. We thought it was kind of cool that we both had the same birthday. We were both twenty-three.

We were kids, Zolf. Just a couple of dumb kids who thought we were grown up. I’ve got a bunch of dumb kids of my own now, and I know what I’m talking about. We thought we knew everything about everything, and it’s probably one of the reasons we didn’t always get on so much. We both thought we knew how the world worked, and because the way I saw the world and the way he saw the world were so different, we both thought the other didn’t know anything about anything. I’d never been out of London—I’d barely been out of Other London—and Hamid, for all he’d been places, he hadn’t really seen the world, just the part of the world that rich people let their kids go. We had a lot to learn.

We needed you. I don’t blame you for leaving, I know you needed that too, and I meant what I said about how none of us were forced to be there and you could leave if you wanted to, and we both trusted you’d come back when you were doing better. And maybe we both thought we’d be okay on our own. But I thought the whole world worked like Other London and Hamid thought the whole world worked like Cairo and Cambridge. Azu and Grizzop both saw how they thought the world should be, but the difference was Azu didn’t realize that it wasn’t like that, I think, and Grizzop just tried to make it like that. But you knew how my world worked, and how Hamid’s world worked, and how the rest of the world worked, and when you were there, it was a lot easier to see things how they really were and not just how they would have been if we were where we were used to, you know?

But it’s not just that. I didn’t get to be a kid, not really. And now that I think about it, Hamid didn’t really either. I had to be a thief and he had to be a banker’s son, and there were rules and things we had to do and things we were expected to be, and we didn’t get to figure out who we were and who we wanted to be. But you let us be that. You made it safe for us to start figuring ourselves out, even if it upset you sometimes, but you were there to catch us if we went too far. And even when you yelled at us, I think we could tell you weren’t really mad. We both had a lot of growing up to do still, even if we didn’t think so, but we weren’t going to do it without someone to show us how. And you’re the only person either of us ever met who was willing to do that for us.

I don’t know if you can get me back. I know I can’t get back to you from here. Magic isn’t what I’m used to, or the people who can do that kind of magic...don’t. I keep thinking about something Apophis said, about how the Meritocrats took a lot of magic things away from humanity because only the rich people could get at them, and I wonder if it’s not something like that, that I’m just not rich enough to get to someone powerful enough to send me home. But I think I’m going to have to wait, and hope. I’m not giving up that hope, because I know you wouldn’t want me to, but...but maybe there’s a reason I’m supposed to be here.

These kids, they need someone too. Like I did. And right now, I’m what they’ve got. If I leave, I don’t know what’s going to happen to them. So this isn’t me saying “don’t keep trying to find me”, this is me saying that if you can’t get me back...I think I’ll be okay. I just keep asking myself, every time I run up on something that I’m not sure about, I think, “What would Zolf do?” And so far I’m not doing too bad, except for the part where I had to tell Maximus he couldn’t threaten to drown his little brothers and sisters in a bucket every time they annoy him. I’m doing my best, though. That’s all I can do. I’m trying. I’m trying to be you for them.

And it’s a little bit like I’ve got you here with me.

But Hamid doesn’t. He doesn’t have you and he doesn’t have me, and his sister and his friend died, and his father and his brother are going to prison, and someone he thought was his friend doesn’t care that she was doing work that got used for horrible things. He’s still just a kid really. And Azu’s solid, but she’s not what he needs. She sees the world in black and white. Either you’re her friend, or you’re her enemy, and if you’re her friend, you’re a good person. Hamid needs somebody who sees him for who he is, and cares about him as a person and not as what he can be or do. He needs you.

So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to finish this letter, and I’m going to take it to the Temple of Poseidon up in the town, and I’m going to ask them to find a way to get it to you. And then I’m going to come home, and I’m going to get all the kids together, and I’m going to tell them stories. I’m going to tell them about the ocean and the rain, the stars and the sand. I’m going to tell them about monsters and mechanical men and magic. I’m going to tell them about Azu and Grizzop and Wilde and even Bertie, my friends, and I’m going to tell them about Hamid, my brother, and I’m going to tell them about Zolf, the best dad I could ever have asked for.

And what I want you to do—it’s a big favor, but I’m hoping this letter won’t get to you until you’ve had a chance to get right. I want—no, I need you to go find Hamid. Maybe it hasn’t been very long, maybe you’re getting this right after we left, in which case, go to Rome and meet him when he gets back. Or maybe it’s been a bit and you’ll need to ask Wilde. He’ll know where to find him. Tell him I sent you if you have to, if he won’t listen to you, but please, please go find Hamid. He needs someone to be there for him, and I have a feeling you need someone too. Someone who believes in you, too. I’ll feel better knowing you’re together, that you’re helping each other, keeping each other safe. Tell him I’m sorry, for what I said about his family. Tell him I miss him, and I love him. I miss you, too, and I love you, too. I mean that with everything I have in me.

We’ll see each other again. I know that. In your time or mine, in this world or the next. I know I’ll be able to see you both again. And I hope that when I do, I’ll be able to look you in the eye and know that I made you proud.

Love always,

Sasha.

P.S. I want you to have my fire dagger. It’s probably not safe to have around just now, it being magic and all, and I want you to have something to remember me by.

Zolf lowers the last page of the letter slowly to the bar top. For a long time, he doesn’t move, just stares at the sheaf of papers and the dagger without really seeing either of them.

Then he takes a deep breath, slides off the stool, and trudges slowly and quietly up the stairs.

The upper floor of what used to be Gragg’s tavern consists of what can only loosely be described as “rooms” because there are two walls, each going about a third of the way across the room, dividing it into nominally two separate spaces. There are a few crates of supplies scattered about, mostly blankets from what Zolf can see in the half-open ones, but one of them has Skraak curled up inside, sound asleep. It’s not hard to find the group, in a sort of nest of blankets tucked up against one of the dividing walls. Azu lies on her back, one arm flung over her face. Cel’s hair is just visible over the edge of a ball of blanket up against Azu’s side; Zolf can’t see their face, but he guesses they still feel pretty terrible. Sumatnyerl sleeps on her side on the opposite side of Azu, back to the party and face to the dividing wall. Einstein snores lightly, cuddling Azu’s outstretched arm like a teddy bear. Even Wilde is there, half-sitting and half-slumped against Azu’s side, a blanket loosely draped over his lap and one hand resting in the space next to it, looking for all the world like he was trying to sit up and wait for Zolf but fell asleep anyway.

Hamid is nowhere to be seen.

Zolf tries to tamp down his instinctive panic. There’s only one way in or out up here, unless Hamid climbed out a window, and he wouldn’t do something like that. Nothing could have got up here without Zolf hearing it, he’s sure—well, okay, he was lost in the letter, it’s possible, but surely the others would have heard something. Hamid’s got to be nearby. He’s just...not sleeping with the others, for some reason. Maybe as he gets more dragon-ish, he gets more like the kobolds and prefers to sleep somewhere he can’t be found easily. Maybe he just doesn’t want to sleep on the floor and has figured out how to make himself a little bed, or found a bed somewhere.

Unless an assassin with Sasha’s level of skill but no morals sneaked in through the window. Unless there’s another thing like the thing they fought in Svalbard that burned their clothing and damaged their spirits. Unless the one Hamid sucked into the kill switch got out somehow and attacked him. Unless Hamid did do something stupid, maybe testing out a new spell he’d discovered or ability he’d developed...

Zolf moves as quickly and quietly as he can into the other half of the room. It’s been mostly picked over and cleared out, those few boxes remaining pushed to the sides of the room. One, a longer and narrower box than some of the others, is up underneath a single window at the far end of the attic space. And there, sitting atop the box, is Hamid, staring out the window even though it’s pitch dark and he can’t possibly see anything.

Inhaling sharply with relief, shoulders relaxing, Zolf crosses the space. He’s still trying not to wake the sleepers, but he’s pretty sure Hamid can hear him. He sits at the other end of the box from Hamid. “Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hey,” Hamid says. He sounds the way he did in Paris after they destroyed Mr. Ceiling for real—weary and beaten-down. The thought makes Zolf hurt all the way through, partly hating himself for the person he was then and partly because Hamid’s got no reason to feel that way now and partly because it makes him think of Sasha, not that she’s far from his mind right now.

Hamid turns away from the window and looks in Zolf’s direction; he can’t possibly see him in the total lack of light, but Zolf can see him just fine. He almost looks worse than he sounds, and Zolf has a brief moment of wondering if he’s hurt worse than he’s letting on before he convinces himself he’s just being alarmist. It’s just the shadows and dim lighting making things seem worse than they are, combined with the stress of the last day.

Now that he’s here, Zolf has no idea where to start. He tries to think of the best way to begin, then gives up and decides to just say the first thing that pops into his head. The words that come out of his mouth remind him why it’s a bad idea to do that. “Did you seriously almost blow yourself up in Rome?”

Several emotions play across Hamid’s face, too fast for Zolf to read in the darkness. He expects a shrill protest, or an angry denial, or a stammering justification, but to his surprise, Hamid simply sighs and nods. “Sort of? We were fighting something invisible. It had just attacked me, so I knew it was near me, and Azu and Sasha weren’t, so...I cast a fireball centered on me. It should’ve been fine. I can stand up to fire pretty well, so I thought even if I couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, I’d be okay. But something in Rome made magic go...weird...and it was more powerful than I thought it would be. I got lucky, I guess.” He looks up at Zolf, and this time the look in his eyes is easy to read: guilt. Zolf’s not sure why. “When did Azu tell you about that?”

“She didn’t. I—” Zolf flounders for a moment. There’s got to be a better way of saying this. Finally, he just sighs and hands Hamid the letter.

Hamid makes a weary, practiced gesture, and Zolf blinks as the by-now familiar tiny dancing lights appear between them. Hamid blinks, too, then flinches. “Sorry,” he mumbles and starts to make the gesture to dismiss them.

Zolf reaches over and stops him. “It’s—fine. It’s fine,” he tells Hamid. “Nothing out there hunts by sight. Gragg says they can’t get in buildings anyway. I trust him. You’re fine.”

Hamid swallows and nods. Now that the lights are there, Zolf can see him a little better, and he reevaluates his previous assessment. Hamid does look worse than he sounds. He looks either ill or injured, with dark hollows under his eyes, which have a slightly bruised look to them, his skin ashen. There’s a smudge on his forehead of dirt or slime or blood or some combination of the three, he looks like he’s run his hands through his hair in frustration or despair, and his ever-present eyeliner is smeared down his cheeks.

It hits Zolf all at once that he’s literally never seen Hamid not perfectly groomed. Even in the catacombs under Paris, when he’d been injured and panicking, his first instinct had been a shaky prestidigitation to clean himself up. He fusses over his appearance more than anyone Zolf has ever met, with the possible exception of Wilde, and he remembers that Wilde always looked worse off than he was when he couldn’t use his own prestidigitation. It’s no wonder Hamid looks sick. Zolf resists the urge to comment on it and simply waits.

Hamid sucks in a sharp breath as he starts to read, and even more color drains from his face. His eyes fill with tears, but to Zolf’s slight surprise, they don’t fall. He smiles briefly a couple of times, barely more than a flicker, but Zolf also sees him retreat slightly into himself. And Zolf can tell when he gets to the part after they got separated coming back to Rome, because Hamid’s hands start shaking, ever so faintly.

When he reaches the end—apparently—he stares at the paper for a long moment, much like Zolf did, then takes a deep breath, folds the letter back up, and hands it back to Zolf. Zolf isn’t sure whether to be impressed or worried that Hamid hasn’t dissolved into a complete emotional mess.

“She’s right,” he says softly, and his voice is choked and shaking, but he’s not actually crying. “I was just a dumb kid. Still am, I guess.” He looks up at Zolf. “I keep—I think I’m getting better, and then I do something utterly stupid because I think I know what I’m doing, and then I argue with you when you call me out on it. And then I have the nerve to act like you’re—” He chokes off the word and looks away, taking a couple more deep breaths.

Zolf realizes, all of a sudden, what Hamid is doing. He’s trying to stop himself from crying, because he doesn’t want to be overly emotional. He’s trying to be sensible and practical and, well, grown-up about this.

Before he can say anything, Hamid looks back up at him. “I’m not—I’m not trying to justify why I’m right. I just want you to know where I...” He swallows. “When I was growing up, if I made a mistake or—o-or did something wrong, no matter what it was or how bad it was, all I had to do was admit it was wrong and apologize, and everything would be forgiven and it would go away. Like it never happened. And you—you’re kind of the opposite? At least, that’s how it looks to me sometimes. If something goes wrong, it’s in the past. Apologizing for it or—or acknowledging that it might have been a mistake doesn’t change that it was done, so there’s no reason to. Just...move on and try to do better the next time. And I know that’s the better way to handle it, but—”

“It’s not,” Zolf interrupts, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s—look, I don’t have all the answers either, you know. I act like I do, but deep down, I’m just as scared. And I don’t always know the right thing to do. When we were in Paris, I spent three days in my room wallowing, blaming myself for everything that went wrong, every mistake I’d ever made, not just the whole Mr. Ceiling thing, you remember that? The more we went on, the more I questioned everything I’d ever done, and by the time we got to Prague, I couldn’t get away from the doubts. So I walked away, from Sasha and from you, because I didn’t trust myself not to repeat my mistakes. And then Wilde tracked me down and told me you’d gone to Rome and you were gone and...” He swallows hard. “Look, you know how Sasha talks about her...shutting down and just blanking out? I did that, too, I reckon. I blamed myself, thought if I’d just stayed you’d have been okay, but...at that point, Wilde needed an ally and I needed a purpose, so I shut out the past and focused on the present. And it was easier to live like that, for a while, so I just kept doing it and it got worse.” He tries to smile. “There’s got to be something in between, right? Something between ignoring the past and dwelling on it?”

“Yeah,” Hamid says softly, looking down at his hands. They’re dirty, too, smeared with plant matter and ichor and grease, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “And there’s got to be something between acting like acknowledging a mistake makes it all go away and acting like—”

“—like not acknowledging it also makes it all go away,” Zolf completes. “And I think there’s got to be something between ‘this was the only right answer’ and ‘this was the right answer with the information we had so it’s fine,’ yeah? Like your fireball in Rome. You didn’t think that was the only solution, did you?”

“No,” Hamid whispers. “It was a calculated risk. And I didn’t think about magic going...screwy. But I wouldn’t have done it if Sasha or Azu or Einstein had been close enough that it would have hit them. I was the only one in danger, so I thought it would be okay.”

Zolf’s heart lurches, and he has to try twice before he can speak. “If you ever decide to do something like that again...just make sure I can’t see you, all right?”

Hamid looks up at Zolf and attempts to smile. “So you don’t have to yell at me?”

“So I don’t have to maybe watch you die.” Zolf keeps his voice down with an effort. “I can’t—I can’t do that, Hamid. Seeing Wilde’s body after the crash, I—that was bad. That was real bad. If I’d had to actually see it happen? I don’t know that even pushing things into the past would’ve helped. And next to Wilde, you’re the person I’d like to think I’m closest to. I don’t want to watch anyone die if I can help it, but you? Please don’t make me do that.” He swallows hard. “It’s why I took the risk of having us jump into the plant. I thought it would just...lead us straight through to wherever it was connected to, but it was that or watch you torn apart by a bunch of evil trees, and I was not going to risk that. So yeah, it was a bad idea and if I’d known what I know now I would have tried to come up with a third option, but with what we knew then, it was the best hope I had of not losing everything I cared about. Again.”

Hamid makes a tiny, pained noise that sounds like it might be a sob and goes straight to Zolf’s heart. He presses his lips tightly together for a moment, obviously forces back an emotional response, then nods. “I promise. And—and I promise not to yell like that again. I’m sorry. I am. I got scared and I took it out on you and that wasn’t fair.”

“I accept your apology, and I forgive you. And I’m not great with the whole...talking thing, but I promise I’ll try in the future.” Zolf takes a quick breath. “I do forget how young you are sometimes. And I don’t mean that as an insult, just...I forget you don’t always have the experience of the world to understand why I make the decisions I do, and then I get annoyed with you for questioning them, and that’s not fair, either. I’m sorry for that.”

“You don’t—I accept your apology, and I forgive you,” Hamid half-whispers. Zolf can tell he’s not just parroting the words, he’s sincere about them. And he appreciates that Hamid stopped himself from saying you don’t have to apologize. Because Zolf did have to apologize, and they both know it. Hamid looks down at the letter again. “She’s right about that, too. I did—I do need you. I’m...you make me a better person.”

“No,” Zolf says, putting the weight of an entire lifetime’s experience behind his words. “Nobody else can make someone a better person. You make you a better person, Hamid. I just believe you can be one.”

Hamid’s head comes up abruptly, and he stares at Zolf in genuine shock. Zolf is terrible at...people, and emotions, and all that, he doesn’t usually get them, but Hamid’s emotions are so close to the surface and so genuine that even he can read them. Nobody has ever told Hamid anything like that, ever, and Zolf is the last person he would have ever expected to hear it from.

And something inside Zolf breaks.

He reaches out and pulls Hamid into a hug, tighter and more desperate than the one he gave him right after the first quarantine all those weeks ago. Hamid hugs him back just as tightly, burying his face in Zolf’s shoulder. Zolf feels the tears begin hitting his skin, reminding him in a remote, distant way that that purple thing dissolved his shirt and coat and he’s sitting around in nothing but his breastplate, but he pushes the thought out of his mind for the moment.

“She’s right,” he says into Hamid’s hair. “I am proud of you. You stood up for yourself, and you stood up for Sasha. You didn’t give in even when it would’ve been the easiest thing in the world. And back there, in Svalbard? You did a good job. You kept your head and you didn’t argue, you figured out what that device was and how to use it. And you made sure the rest of us stayed safe. I might argue with you, I might yell, but I will never not be proud of you.”

Hamid cries harder. His emotions are usually loud and messy, but whether because he’s trying to keep quiet or for some other reason, his tears are silent. “I missed you,” he whispers, the words muffled into Zolf’s shoulder. “I missed you and I was scared something would happen to you in Prague, and then I got back from Rome and Einstein told us how long it had been and what was going on and I was scared you were dead, and then I saw you again and I was—I was so angry at you and I don’t know why—”

“It’s because I wasn’t there,” Zolf says with a rare flash of insight. “It’s because I left and suddenly everybody around you started getting hurt and dying, and then you came back and everything was different, and you didn’t know what was going on. You were confused and scared, and when you get scared these days you get angry. And I was there to be a good target. You couldn’t be angry at Azu because Azu was angry too, but me—”

“You were safe,” Hamid says softly. “I—I trusted that I could be angry at you, because I knew you’d—you’d let me be angry and we could still be friends after I was done.”

Zolf tightens his arms around Hamid, recognizing the truth in his words. “I missed you, too, you know. As soon as I walked away, I regretted it. If I could’ve taken you both with me, as stupid as that sounds, I would have, but I had to be on my own to get right. But I hadn’t been gone three days before I knew I’d be back. And then you were gone, they told me you were gone for good, and I—I wasn’t lying when I said I’d mourned for you both, but I never gave up hope. I’ve been studying the planes—I was determined, when I had a moment, I was going to go looking for you. I just, I couldn’t leave Wilde and...”

“No, I get it. I get it.” Hamid squeezes him again, then eases back and manages a weak smile up at him. “Thank you. For trying. For not giving up. Maybe...maybe that’s the only reason any of us made it back, was because you had hope.”

“Maybe.” Zolf settles back as well and manages a smile back. “I’m not giving up on her, just so you know. Even though we got that letter from her when she was older...I’m not giving up. Maybe someday...”

“Yeah. Maybe not any time soon, but someday.” Hamid wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. The gesture makes him look impossibly young. “I’m not giving up either. I can’t. She wouldn’t have given up on us.” He pauses. “Zolf—she didn’t know you weren’t with Poseidon anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s probably why the letter came through the Poseidon lot,” Zolf says. “They’ve probably been looking for me since I walked away, so to speak.”

“No, I mean she didn’t know you weren’t with Poseidon. If she lit a candle at the Temple of Artemis for Grizzop every year, and her letter to all of us came through the Cult of Aphrodite...Zolf, what if that’s why Poseidon kept trying to help you?” Hamid’s eyes are wide. “Because Sasha asked him to? Would—is that how it works?”

Ice water floods through Zolf’s veins, and he mutters a word in Dwarfish he hasn’t said since the cave-in. “It might. I don’t know. I’m not—”

“No, I’m not—I don’t think you should go back to him. I mean....clearly he wasn’t—maybe he was Sasha’s god, not yours. I just...wondered, that’s all.” Hamid rubs his face. He looks like he’s lost a fight with a fireplace, there’s so much dirt and kohl smeared over his cheeks.

“Maybe...Hamid, you sure you aren’t hurt?” Zolf gestures to his own face. “You...look a mess.”

“I...oh.” Hamid looks embarrassed. “Sorry, and I—it’s all over you, too. Here.” He snaps his fingers, producing the familiar flurry of handkerchiefs, which set to work on both Hamid and Zolf.

Zolf unbuckles his breastplate and sets it aside, wincing at the sticky sound as it peels away from his chest and the last fragments of his shirt and jacket fall away. “Thanks,” he says. “For the record, though, I wasn’t...complaining about you looking bad or whatever. I was just worried. Last time you didn’t immediately come out of a fight and tidy yourself up was...”

“Paris,” Hamid completes softly. “I know. I-it did feel...a bit like that, I guess. I just didn’t...I don’t know.” He glances over his shoulder uncertainly towards the other part of the room.

Zolf glances over, too. “They’ll be okay,” he assures Hamid, thinking he’s worrying about Cel. “Once I’ve had some rest, I can meditate and get access to a couple spells that’ll help. You and Azu, too. You said it hit you some?”

“Yeah,” Hamid says with a heavy sigh.

The handkerchiefs vanish, and Zolf sighs, too. “Right. C’mon, let’s go in the other room and get some sleep. You want to use the lights so you don’t trip?”

Hamid hesitates, for just a second, then says uncertainly, “N-no. No, I’m—I’m fine.” He snaps his fingers and the lights disappear. “Um...after you?”

Zolf stares at Hamid. He’s usually a skilled liar, almost on par with Wilde, but either because he’s tired or because of what that thing did to him, he’s not doing a very good job of it right now. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Hamid protests, even less convincingly.

“Hamid.”

It’s all he says, but it’s enough. Hamid’s shoulders slump. “I just...I don’t think I’m welcome in there right now. Azu’s mad at me. A-about the kobolds and—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Zolf interrupts. “She’s asleep right now, so she won’t be yelling at you. And she’s not....feeling well, is she? Whatever happened to you three, she’s—she’ll be fine once we get that taken care of.”

“She meant it, Zolf. She just wouldn’t have said it if she wasn’t...like this. And she wasn’t wrong.”

“She might not have been wrong, but that doesn’t mean she was right,” Zolf says firmly. He puts his hands on Hamid’s shoulders and looks him in the eye, despite knowing Hamid probably can’t see him. “Just like Sasha. Just like me. Just like you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Hamid whispers. Tears fill his eyes again. “I—I really didn’t—I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, Zolf. I’m sorry. I just—I guess I was still upset about what Aziza said and—”

“Wait, who—?” Zolf suddenly realizes that he wasn’t the only one who went through what he went through when they jumped through that plant. His shoulders slump slightly. “I’m sorry. I should’ve—we should’ve talked about this, but—”

“When have we had time?”

“Yeah, exactly. Look, I—when we jumped through that plant, before it tied us up and we fell through those planes?” Zolf sighs heavily. “I was back in the mines. With my brother. He blamed me for leaving, tried to convince me he’d still been alive when I...” He swallows. “So I was...kind of raw, too. Even though it was nothing I haven’t been saying to myself for decades. Even though I knew it wasn’t really him.”

“It wasn’t?” Hamid’s voice is small and fragile, like he was in the catacombs.

“Oh, Hamid.” Zolf hates this, hates every minute of it. “No, it wasn’t—it wasn’t them. Whoever you saw—your sister, right? The one who died in Prague?”

“Yeah. She—she said it was my fault she died. And that I hadn’t done enough to—after. That I was still making everything all about me and not—”

“Yeah, if it had really been her, she never would have said any of that, ‘cause it’s not true,” Zolf interrupts. “You were humming in the garden. I heard you. She was walking with you. That was really her. I could feel my brother with me too, I kept willing him to go away. Cel and Azu, I’m sure they were with someone they’ve lost too. What that—that thing showed us, that was a twisted version of them. Something to make us regret, make us give up. They were lies, Hamid. What happened to your sister, that’s not your fault. You did everything you could. Kafka’s the reason she died. Well, and maybe Bertie too.”

“I didn’t know that,” Hamid whispers. “About him—about Kafka giving him a choice.”

“Tell you what.” Zolf squeezes Hamid’s shoulders. “When this is all over, we’ll go find a necromancer, find where they’ve got Bertie buried, and have him turned into a zombie so we can kill him again ourselves.”

Hamid actually laughs, a bit wetly. “Only if you take the first shot.”

“Sure. We’ll use Sasha’s dagger.” Zolf pulls Hamid in for another hug. He’s not usually the touchy-feely, sort, but it’s just the two of them right now and Hamid’s one of three people he’d be willing to hug like this.

The fact that one of those people is someone he may never get the chance to hug again—or at all—makes his heart ache, but he tries not to think about it.

Hamid hugs him back, and Zolf feels him relax. After a few moments, he pulls back and manages a smile up at Zolf. “Thank you. For all of it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” Zolf smiles back, then slides off the box. “Come on. You need rest.”

This time, Hamid slides off the box too, and he matches stride with Zolf as they head back into the other room. He starts to go off to one side, but Zolf doesn’t let him. Instead, he grabs a blanket and pulls him over to join the pile that is the rest of their friends. Hamid looks reluctant, but he doesn’t argue. Zolf’s glad. He’s tired and strained and really doesn’t want to have to try to choose which of the two people he cares about most he’s going to try and protect tonight.

Wilde half-stirs when Zolf settles down next to him, but doesn’t fully wake, just shifts slightly to lean against him and shoves the blanket in his direction. Zolf tucks the blanket he grabbed around Hamid before accepting the other half of Wilde’s blanket, and he doesn’t object when he feels Hamid’s head drop onto his shoulder.

“Night, Dad,” Hamid mumbles, sounding more than half asleep.

A lump comes into Zolf’s throat. He has to try twice before he can choke out the words. “Night, Hamid.”

With one hand resting on Hamid’s head and the other gripping Wilde’s hand tightly, Zolf closes his eyes and drifts into sleep, feeling, for the first time in almost two years, like some of the grief has been lifted from his heart.

#ollie writes fanfic #rq gaming #rqg #Zolf Smith #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #angst and feels #spoilers for the entire podcast #we love our grumpy sea dad

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